#but seeing this was a two-for-one i figured WHY NOT
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hooola!! absolutely love the baby alonso series and i’d love to see her playing with penelope maybe?? or one of lando’s nieces!!
hope u have a great day 🫶🫶
Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!
-xoxo babygirl 💕
@piastappies
Best friends forever
The bustling paddock was alive with the hum of race car engines, chatter from teams, and fans eagerly seeking autographs. Amidst the energy of the Formula 1 weekend, two tiny figures stood out—Yn and Penelope.
Yn, with her sparkling pink bike that had streamers hanging off the handlebars, was busy adjusting her helmet. Penelope, on her equally dazzling sparkling purple bike, was already riding in circles, her giggles carrying through the air.
"Come on, Yn!" Penelope called, a teasing grin on her face. "You're so slow!"
Yn puffed up her cheeks in mock frustration, tightening the strap on her helmet. "I'm not slow! I just wanna make sure my helmet is perfect! Safety first, P!"
Penelope stopped her bike and crossed her arms dramatically. "We’re in the paddock, silly. No cars are gonna hit us!"
Yn finally climbed onto her bike, wobbling for a moment before finding her balance. "Fine! But you're not gonna win the race!" she said with determination, pedaling furiously to catch up.
The two girls zipped past team garages, their bikes glittering under the sun, leaving a trail of laughter behind them. Engineers paused to watch, some waving and smiling, others snapping quick photos of the adorable sight.
"Careful, girls!" Charles called out, leaning against a garage wall with a cup of coffee.
"We’re being careful!" Penelope yelled back, her voice high-pitched and confident.
"Yeah!" Yn chimed in. "We’re super fast, like Max and Fernando!"
Charles chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, just don’t beat them in qualifying, okay?"
The girls burst into laughter, though neither truly understood what qualifying was.
---
Later, Yn and Penelope decided to ditch their bikes and explore on foot. Hand-in-hand, they skipped down the paddock, their little sneakers slapping against the ground in perfect rhythm.
"We should go see the snacks table!" Penelope suggested, her eyes sparkling.
"Snacks!" Yn cheered. "I hope they have gummy bears. And cookies!"
As they approached the Red Bull hospitality, Max was leaning on a railing, chatting with Sergio. He spotted the duo and immediately straightened up, his tough demeanor softening into a wide grin.
"Hey, what are you two up to now?" Max asked, crouching down to their level.
"Snacks!" Penelope declared with a triumphant fist in the air.
Yn nodded eagerly. "Gummy bears!"
Max laughed. "Ah, I see. Well, the snacks are this way, but no eating too much, okay? I need Penelope to cheer for me later, not fall asleep!"
"I’m gonna cheer for Yn’s dad too!" Penelope said proudly, looking at Yn.
"Me too!" Yn added, squeezing Penelope’s hand.
Max ruffled Penelope's hair, a rare, tender smile on his face. "Good girls. Now go on, and don’t cause too much trouble."
---
The next stop on their grand paddock adventure was Fernando’s garage. The two girls peeked in cautiously before scampering inside. Fernando was sitting on a stool, studying data on a screen, but the moment he saw the two tiny intruders, his face lit up.
"Ah, mis pequeñas amigas!" Fernando exclaimed, opening his arms wide.
Yn ran straight to him, throwing her arms around his leg. "Papa! We’re having the best day ever!"
Fernando chuckled, scooping Yn up onto his lap. "I can see that. And Penelope, are you taking good care of my little one?"
Penelope nodded solemnly. "Of course. We’re best friends!"
"Bestest friends!" Yn echoed, reaching out to hold Penelope’s hand again.
Fernando looked at them with soft eyes. "You know, seeing you two like this reminds me of why we do all this. It’s not just about winning—it’s about family and having fun."
"Does that mean you’ll let us ride your car next time?" Penelope asked, her face completely serious.
Fernando laughed heartily. "Not quite, pequeña, but maybe one day."
---
As the day wore on, Yn and Penelope found new ways to entertain themselves. They drew with chalk on the pavement, leaving colorful hearts and stars for everyone to see. They played hide-and-seek around the motorhomes, with Lando and George willingly pretending not to see their bright clothes sticking out from behind crates.
At one point, the two girls sat on a patch of grass, sharing a juice box they had "borrowed" from the hospitality.
"Do you think we’ll ever drive like our dads?" Yn asked, her face thoughtful.
Penelope tilted her head. "I think so. But only if the cars are purple and pink."
Yn nodded solemnly. "Definitely."
---
By the time the sun began to set, the paddock had grown quieter, but the two girls were still full of energy. They convinced Max and Fernando to sit down with them for one last activity: a tea party.
Fernando looked hilariously out of place, holding a tiny plastic teacup between his large fingers, while Max did his best to balance a tiara Penelope had insisted he wear.
"More tea, sir?" Yn asked in an exaggerated posh accent, holding out an empty teapot.
"Why, thank you, madam," Fernando replied, playing along with a dramatic bow of his head.
Max sighed, though he couldn’t hide his grin. "This tea is excellent, Penelope. Did you make it yourself?"
Penelope giggled. "It’s pretend, Papa!"
"Ah, of course," Max said, nodding seriously.
---
As the day came to an end, Yn and Penelope finally started to tire, their eyes drooping as they sat on a bench together, wrapped in a shared blanket.
Fernando and Max watched from a distance, their competitive natures completely set aside as they admired their daughters.
"They really are something, aren’t they?" Fernando said quietly.
Max nodded, a rare softness in his gaze. "Yeah. Makes you realize what really matters."
The two girls held hands even in their sleep, their innocent friendship a bright light in the often chaotic world of Formula 1.
#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#xoxo babygirl 💋#fernando alonso x alonso!reader#fernando alonso x daughter!reader#fernando alonso x reader#max verstappen x reader#lando norris x reader#george russell x reader#dad!fernando alonso#alonso!reader#little alonso
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You tell me I'm a good boy or a good pet and I'll melt in your hands. - Jazz, probably, when he figures out that he's a simp for Zim even if he doesn't realize WHY he's obsessed with him.
Zim this, Zim that - he's all you talk about, Dib. Maybe you don't actually hate him. Maybe you actually like, wanna suck his dick or something --
GAZLENE --
what? Am I wrong?
Nnn-- I mean -- yes. Yes you're wrong Gaz.
Hey, have you noticed there's lots more planes flying overhead around here, lately?
Yeah, that'd make sense and all, considering what happened last week.
What happened last week?
...........Dib. You know what happened last week.
I don't, actually -- oh no...
What is it? Why're you acting so weird? Like, weirder than usual?
Fuck I overshot.
What do you mean, you overshot?
Gaz, what year is it?
It's 2001. Why?
Month?
September --
Of course! That's what happened, last week. Thanks. I forgot for a second. That's all.
How could you forget about it? All you've been talking about is how Zim was the one who did all of it --
BECAUSE HE DID, GAZ.
What?
That was ZIM - he didn't manage to sell any candy bars so he lost our bet. He was so confused why humans weren't falling to their knees, terrified. In those EXACT words. I have a recording of him saying just that.
What the hell, Dib --
:voice recording plays - Zim sounds absolutely devastated: "they didn't even blink an eye when I put that city in ruins. How can these humans be so.... Eh? I forgot the word, what was I saying?
Oh. Yeah. These hyumens aren't scared of my super scary simulation of me destroying one of their precious cities! They just shrugged and said whatever. I don't want your fucking candy."
Do you humans not get enough moneys to buy these things? These are....really good chocolate. Like, I expected them to be sand based on the name of them, but -- they're actually good? Is this a PRIVATE school?
[Dib's voice can be heard in the background; he apparently planted a bug that looked exactly like The Bug --, right where Zim tended to look at himself in the mirror. Because Zim likes to talk to himself out loud - but he's gotta see his reflection to do it. But Zim's eyes are fucking terrible and he can't see shit, even with his occular implants. Even though he is an Irken Elite. You're not gonna get anymore information from me than that. Either way, you hear enough to know that it's Dib speaking, even if you can't make out what he's saying. But Zim can hear him even if Dib is WAYYYYYY. Over there bc of his antenna. Like. You can hear a Dib when he is in his home. That is how much better Zim can hear than Dib]
Did you really just hijack me, space boy? I'm trying to tell my part of the story here as the fly on the wall of every single moment the two of you think you're alone.
Bobby Dawn what are you doing. (Barbie Dan?)(nah, Bobby Dawn. But if you wanna say it where people hear the name both ways, go for it)
Anyways, Steven asked for my assistance with the next chapter of class clown. This ain't the next, next chapter, but it is a chapter that'll show up later down the road. He's gotta finish a Mr. sludgey POV, first.
This just the super unedited version done while I'm high bc I love creating bonds and strengthening them via writing them. That includes my TikToks and my journal entries I ain't shared with y'all and all the writing we ain't shared with y'all, neither.
Gonna go get myself some lunch now, tho. Been at this long enough. ❤️ Have a good day now, y'hear?
All fanfiction authors have praise kinks in the form of comments and likes
#lmao serious tho#i got a comment this morning that was just KUDOS over and over and a keysmash#and i have been on cloud nine all day#like awww yay you wanna see where this fic is going?#man i hope you know you're in for a wild ride#because i dont know either#lolololol#❤️ love y'all#invader zim#encoder/recorder AU#class clown#work in progress#agent m#signing off
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I’ve been vaguely following TF2 comics (I’ve read 6 and 7 and know a few plot beats and the general storyline) and from the outside it seems like Engineer and Pyro have gotten way less “screen time” than anyone else
Pyro makes sense, there’s only so much you can do with them but Engineer feels way to engaging to be left out like that
so am i wrong or is Engie just not shown to much, and if so why?
Engineer is noticeably out of focus in the comics, and there are two important throughlines in his characterization contributing to this.
The first is that out of the nine mercenaries he's always been the most plugged in to the backstory- the comic where we learned his real name is the one that introduced the backstory, he's the only one of the mercenaries to have actually canonically met one the Mann brothers, the only one who for sure knows what the gravel wars are ostensibly being fought over- and that level of involvement with the background plot, coupled with his genius, level-headedness and comparatively high empathy, makes him difficult to position front-and-center as a protagonist without breaking a bunch of things.
The second thing setting him apart from the rest of the mercenaries is that while he's enough of an eccentric to rise to the challenge of the setting's gonzo insanity, he's almost never the instigator of any of it. His Meet the Team video consists of him sitting and relaxing while his sentry guns mow down waves of assailants, monologuing about the measured practicality of his escalating response. His response to the teleporter tumor problem in Expiration Date is a grounded and practical approach to a ridiculous situation (that's exacerbated by Soldier.) He's minding his own business when a rocket full of space guns lands on his back acre on Christmas Eve, he spends the entirety of Loose Canon flummoxed by Blutarch's amoral insanity (though importantly, he's nonetheless willing to take the man's money for services rendered.) He's a fantastic straight man when the narrative needs such a figure, but his isn't a flashy insanity. He's not Soldier, he's not Medic, he's not even Heavy as far as out-of-pocket gag behavior goes. Almost all humor involving the Engineer has to do with his reaction (or lack thereof) to the bizarre carnage around him.
These factors are reflected in the role he ends up playing in TF comics 6 and 7. He's kept in the background of the plot in a reactive role, doing his professional best as an Engineer to maintain the Administrator's life extender- a frustated care-provider to a deeply unwell patient who doesn't always take his advice, a grounded, practical facilitator of what ultimately turns out to be the most deranged behavior of the entire story, seeing his contract out to the bitter end. And this is the way in which his apparent groundedness wraps back around into a distinct brand of crazy, no better than anyone else. The Administrator's real plan is something he's a reasonable enough person to disapprove of in the abstract. He's clearly aware something is rotten at the core of all this- he describes Miss Pauling actually managing to recover more Australium as her having created a problem rather than having solved one, he was on some level relieved to realize this was all drawing to a close. But none of this was something he was willing to break his professional obligations over and thus something he (and two generations of his family before him) deliberately kept themselves in the dark about so that they wouldn't have to reckon with it or make that call.
This passivity and level-headedness allow him to play an extremely important narrative role once everything is out in the open- he's the only member of the main cast who can present Miss Pauling with her Road-to-Damascus moment over what to do with the remaining Australium with any credible gravity. He's the only character left in the main cast besides Pauling herself who's plugged in enough that his analysis of her situation carries any weight. He's the only one of the Mercenaries from whom "If you keep it, I won't help you" means anything at all or is even a believable ultimatum- the rest of the mercs might have been freaked out by The Administrator specifically, but do you really think they wouldn't have just kept following their friend Miss Pauling if she kept signing their checks? He does what he's always done- he examines the situation, lays out the available options, and leaves the final call up to others. The only thing that changes- and, to some extent, a sign of his off-screen character development- is this time is that he finally draws a line in the sand as to what course of action he'll lend his expertise to. He threatens to finally, finally remove himself from the situation unless Pauling decides that she wants him to help her finally, finally solve the problem once and for all.
#team fortress 2#the engineer#dell conagher#tf2#tf2 analysis#thoughts#meta#asks#ask#the days have worn away#tf comics#tf2 spoilers#tf2 comics issue 7#tf2 engineer#tf2 the days have worn away#his last line in the comic is agreeing to help with the practical specifics of solving the problem#it's poetry! It rhymes
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DOUBLE OR NOTHING
after countless empty promises spilled from his lips, you wanted to believe that he’d show up to your anniversary of all things.
FEATURING: toji fushiguro x wife! reader
CONTENTS: non canon compliant/au, marriage problems, talks of divorce, angst, smut, porn w/out plot rly, unprotected p in v, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, doggy, missionary against a wall, pet names (ma, princess, etc.)
WORD COUNT: 4.9k
AUTHOR’S NOTE: repost bc i need this dilf in my bed rn 😞
"I'll make it home to you by six, mama. Take you out on a nice date, get you some flowers, all that stuff you like. Promise."
The clock was nearing eight o'clock with no signs of Toji coming through the door anytime soon, your own patience starting to run out with every tick. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. The sound echoed through your ears since you'd sat down on the leather couch nearly two hours ago, waiting for Toji to fulfill the promise. A promise that he'd made after flaking out on the date planned prior to that one.
And prior to that one. And prior. It'd been more missed dates than actual ones that he'd taken you out by now—you weren't exactly sure why you'd hoped for tonight to be different. Well, you knew exactly why. Today marked three years of being married to one another. You knew that he didn't prioritize date nights with you as much as he should, but you had held some sort of foolish hope that your anniversary would mean something—anything to him.
The divorce papers felt like a dead weight in your hand, much like how your relationship would be the second that you brought it up. It all just seemed so final, seeing the terms laid out that would end years of marriage. Just by the flick of a pen. But the idea was almost like a reprieve, like something that was worth looking forward to. You shook your head, getting up from the couch to set the stack of papers on the kitchen table where Toji wouldn't miss them.
Another half hour of eerie silence and Toji still hadn't come through the door. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep some semblance of hope that he'd even show up at all, much less for your date. You admitted defeat, slipping off your heels and pulling up a throw blanket over yourself. Succumbing to the sleep that was weighing down on your eyelids.
You weren't even sure how much time had passed when you heard the door swing open, the door hitting the wall from the force. The thud of his shoes hitting the tile followed, a grumble leaving Toji's lips. "Fuckin' bastards rigged that race. Robbed me of fifty bucks," he muttered to himself, slipping his coat off before placing it up on the coat rack.
"You're home late," you called out, watching as Toji turned to look at the couch before flicking on one of the living room lights. "Jesus woman, you scared me," he grumbled, a large hand resting by his chest as he looked over in your direction. Toji rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion lingering on his face like a second skin. It was only then that he looked over at you, really looked at you, and what you were wearing.
Ah shit.
Almost as if he wanted to make the situation worse, he'd chosen to go with, "You got all dolled up just to fall asleep on the couch?" You could've sworn you felt your eye twitch at the question. He'd barely opened up his mouth and you were already wishing that he didn't even bother showing up for the night.
Toji knew he was in deep shit with each step he took into the living room, his mind already starting to work overdrive to figure out what he could do for what he'd missed. A date? No, you wouldn't have put on the very expensive pair of Louboutins for just any date. His mind was blanking on anything other than the numbers that he'd lost with earlier in the day. Come on, think.
"No, I got dolled up because I thought I'd be going out with my husband tonight," you retorted dryly, smudges of eyeshadow sticking to your hand when you went to rub at your eyes. You could see Toji's brows furrow, the wheels seeming to turn in his head for once, before a look of realization settled on his features.
"Look, I'm sorry. I got carried away at the casino," one of the many excuses you'd heard before coming back to bite you in the ass. The same excuse that he'd used last month when he forgot about a work party you'd mentioned to him. Which wouldn't have been too bad if it weren't for all the snide comments being whispered in your direction and all the unwarranted marriage advice.
Advice that you ended up forgetting about chugging down two glasses of tequila like water. "I'll make it up to you, I swear. You can pick the place and all that shit." There went another one. He'd really topped himself using the two of them in a row. You rubbed the bridge of your nose, looking over at him in disbelief. "Do you even know what today was? Why I'm so pissed off?"
"It's your birthday?" Toji spoke after a couple seconds, the answer clearly wrong just by the look on his face. You rubbed a hand over your face, standing up from your spot on the couch. "It's our wedding anniversary, Toji," you spoke up before he made another guess that would just piss you off even further, "And I have something I need to talk to you about. It's on the kitchen table."
Underneath the vase filled with wilted flowers—a collection more than anything that you kept around as a reminder that Toji used to care, was a stack of papers. He placed the vase down on the table with more force than necessary upon realizing what the documents were. "A divorce?" The words slipped out of him with such venom, such distaste, like the idea was unfathomable.
Toji slammed the papers down on the table, the salt and pepper shakers trembling before falling over. "Is that really what you want?" He stepped closer to you when you approached the table, his hands instinctively moving to hold your hips. Holding you close to his body. "No, I didn't get married with the intention of getting a divorce. But you've been neglecting this marriage for a couple months now."
"I'll make it up to you now," Toji spoke quickly, like he was afraid of losing you at any moment. Like you'd disappear if he didn't. And as much as you wanted to avoid looking over at him, the task had just become all that much difficult when you had nowhere else to look at. It only took one glance at his face to realize just what he meant by 'making it up to you.'
"You think you're gonna fix months of pushing me aside with just sex?"
"Nah, I know it's gonna take more. But you've been so tired, isn't that right? So tired of tryin' to keep this marriage from falling apart and nobody taking care of you?" His words were like a siren's song when he whispered them in your ear, your traitorous body leaning back to meet the drag of your fingertips. It was almost laughable at how easily your resolve had melted. "Lemme take care of you mama. Promise I'll make you feel good."
"You wanna call me a dick, never wanna see me again? That's fine, just don't deny me one last taste. Please," And while Toji wasn't a man to beg for anything in his life, he found himself saying the words anyways. "Thought this was you making it up to me," and as much as you were willing yourself not to fold, you felt yourself spreading your legs almost instinctively when his finger dragged up your inner thigh.
"Can't it be both?" Toji's teeth nipped at your neck, licking a stripe up the junction of your neck. Practically salivating at the taste of you, of the expensive perfume you'd put on just a mere hours beforehand. "One could say that you're just being selfish," your words quickly died out when Toji started sucking on your pulse point, your own heartbeat betraying you. You'd expected Toji to sass you back, say something about how your body was just so needy against his touch.
But instead, he dropped down to his knees in front of you. The wooden floor underneath his knees almost made him feel bad for all the times he had you in a similar position. Almost. Toji looked up at you, "Selfish only when it comes to you."
Every slow drag of his fingertips across your smooth skin seemed almost reverent— like you were something to worship. You were, he just failed to realize that until now. Until you were almost out the door. "I'm sorry," the first real apology of the night slipped out of his mouth, his lips pressed against your shin. "I'm sorry," he moved up to your knee, repeating the action. Hushed whispers of I'm sorry's and featherlight kisses moving up your legs, stopping only when he gets to your clothed cunt.
"I'm sorry," Toji uttered his last apology against your cunt, his eyes locking onto yours as he applied an open mouthed kiss on your clothed clit. Barely darting his tongue out, swirling it against the nerves that were just begging for one ounce of stimulation. And he was practically reveling in how needy he made you in the span of seconds. Your back arched to rest against the seat behind you, one of your hands going to rest on his head.
Toji's fingers dragged slowly in between your folds, feeling the wet patch already starting to form through the thin lace material. You refused to make eye contact with him, knowing that if you did, he'd be able to see just how desperate you were in just a manner of seconds. Even if the bastard probably had a clue already. "You sure your pussy agrees with the divorce?" His voice came out to something akin to a purr, the drag of his fingers slowing down.
Getting you even more worked up than you were already. "Fucking hate you, can't even apologize right," you let out a hiss, your hand going down to his hair. Pulling his head even closer to you despite your previous claim. "Fine, I'll apologize correctly," Toji sounded like you were the one inconveniencing him—to which you were. He wanted to take his time with his meal, have you begging for him to touch you. And normally, he would've.
If he weren't desperate to have your cunt on his face again after weeks, months? of just having his fist to work with. His fist and a used pair of your panties up to his nose like a pervert, hips humping the air in desperation. Imagining that it was your tongue flicking across his leaking tip instead of his thumb, that it was your soft hands in exchange of his rough ones. And as easy as it was for him to get laid—he didn't want to be with anyone that wasn't you.
Toji hadn't tasted someone as sweet as you, heard someone so angelic before, but now he supposed that maybe he'd have to put that theory to the test if you left him after all. Just the idea was maddening. That someone else would be doing the same thing that he's doing to you now, that they'd give you the affection that he should've given.
"Especially sorry to you. Been neglecting you for too long," he hooked his fingers around the side of your panties, pulling them to the side just enough to reveal your slick folds to him. Toji swiped the tip of his finger along your entrance, your slick glistening against the harsh kitchen lighting before he stuck in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it, licking away at it like the slut he was.
And like the deprived man that he'd been, Toji's hands went to the lace of your underwear and stretched it out until a loud rip echoed throughout the kitchen. "You always this wet for people you hate? Or is that just for me?" Toji taunted, pushing your tattered panties down to your ankles. Finally leaning in closer to where you were aching for him to touch you. To do something other than just tease you relentlessly.
Toji settled on his knees behind you, spreading your legs open like you were his favorite meal. His tongue swiped up on your dripping cunt, licking up your essence with sheer greed. "Mmph fuck, so good," his words came out muffled, his tongue swiping across your folds before darting inside of your cunt. Your grip on the table tightened, your hips working on their own accord to push back onto his face. Practically suffocating him in your pussy. Not that he minded. By any means.
Toji practically welcomed it, his hands pushing you down onto his face. Getting absorbed in your cunt completely. "A-Ah fuck, Toji!" You could already see the noise complaint hanging on your front door first thing in the morning. But how could you be expected to keep your voice down? Toji spread your folds apart with two fingers as if he were preparing for a feast, his tongue feverishly licking in between.
"Fuckin' soaked already, knew you loved me," The vibration of the low chuckle that followed his words shot currents up your spine, your ass jiggling all that much more in his face. With such a decadent taste coating his taste buds, dying by your pussy would be nothing short of a blissful way to go out. One of the fingers that he'd been using to spread your folds had been pushed inside of your cunt, your walls clenching around him.
Toji's tongue flicked against your clit, swirling the tip around the bud while his finger slowly pushed further inside of you. The loud squelch of your cunt was the only thing that filled the apartment, everything else completely silent. Your fingers dug deeper into his scalp, a low groan leaving his lips. "F-Fuck, Toji Toji," he pushed another thick finger inside, moving them in a scissoring motion to stretch you out.
"You think y're gonna find someone who can do this?" Toji looked up at you, his fingers curling up to hit that spongy spot inside of you almost perfectly. And if you didn't know any better, you'd almost say that he looked vulnerable while he made the question. Toji's lips wrapped around your clit, gently sucking on it as his fingers worked you closer and closer to your orgasm. You couldn't bring yourself to answer—didn't trust yourself to speak.
"Toji, Toji, gonna cum," you gave him a warning, your jaw falling slack and your lips parting in a o-shape. Soundless moans leaving your lips, feeling that coil in your lower tummy start to tighten up all the much more. With one final pump of his fingers, you were covering his lips with your release. His tongue swiped across his lips, across the scar that he hated, collecting every drop. Savoring what he imagined would be the last taste of you.
"Turn around," It was almost embarrassing how quickly you'd turned around per your soon-to-be ex husband's request.
Toji didn't take more than a couple seconds in unbuttoning his pants and taking them off, his cock hitting his stomach once it was released from its confines. Precum dribbled from his annoyingly almost pretty pink tip, dripping onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. His cock slid through your folds like a slip n slide, your previous orgasm coating his tip with every lazy drag. "Toji," your voice bordered on a whine, pushing your hips to try to meet his movements.
"Tell me what you want," Toji clicked his tongue, one of his hands moving to hold your waist. Keeping you completely still until he got what he wanted. You figured there wasn't any harm in whining—you were already fucking the man after you brought up a divorce. There truly wasn't that much more to lose. "Why do I have to ask for it when you're the one apologizing?"
"Because you're the one pushing your hips back against me. All needy 'n shit. So.. beg."
"Want you inside me, Toji. Please."
"Want?"
You let out a huff before correcting yourself, "Need."
"Come on, doll. You can say it nicer than that, right?" Toji's pointer trailed up your torso, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
So goddamn annoying. You swallowed whatever pride you had left before looking back over at him, "Please, Toji. Need your cock in me. Please."
Toji clicked his tongue, one hand wrapping around his cock and giving himself a couple tentative pumps. "Think you can beg better than that. But since I'm feeling nice, I guess I'll let it slide." So much for feeling apologetic. Toji pushed his cock inside of you in one swift motion, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. Even with the fingers that'd been inside of you, nothing could've really prepared you.
"You okay?" Toji dropped his head to rest on your shoulder, whispering the words in your ear. Staying still while your walls tried to adjust to the overwhelming stretch. "You try taking your cock," you muttered dryly, giving him a nod to start moving. "Why would I do that when you take it so well?" Toji pushed the rest of his cock inside, his hands resting on your hips.
Toji wasn't particularly known for being gentle—the one hospital visit after he'd injured your cervix more than enough proof of that, but he started off slow. Slow, shallow thrusts. Fucking you in a way that he hasn't since your honeymoon. "Toji, you can speed up," you assured him, your words getting cut off with a smack to your ass. "What I'd say about tellin' me what to do?" Ah, there was the mean Toji that you recognized.
"Wouldn't need to tell you what to do if my vibrator wasn't looking more appealing right now."
Famous last words.
The change was almost immediate. Mascara dribbled down your cheeks, the sight of your once composed makeup all ruined making Toji's cock twitch inside of you. "Fucking pretty like this, y'know?" His teeth sunk down on the junction of your shoulder, his teeth grazing across the sensitive flesh. His hips snapped roughly into yours, your breathing growing erratic. "Fuck, Fuck, Toji!"
The coldness of his gold wedding band hit your skin as soon as he went to grip your hips, holding you against him like he needed to be close to you. The two of you had been distant for some time and he hadn't bothered to take off his wedding band once, not even on the rare occasion that he actually did happen to take a job. Toji would never admit it, of course—but he was starved for the feeling of your skin against his own.
To confirm that you were still here after all.
Your hands reached out to grab to whatever you could grab—anything, and of course, it just happened to be the divorce papers sitting on the middle of the table. Practically taunting you as your own signature glared back at you. "This good enough for you, princess?" Toji taunted in your ear, his blunt fingernails digging into your sides. "Mhm, j-just like that," your voice came out in a mewl, all bits of defiance completely out of your system.
"There you go. Nasty fucking girl," Toji all but purred in your ear the moment you started to jerk your hips back to meet his own, your ass bouncing with each one of his thrusts. "Just needed Toji to take care of ya," all you could was nod your head fervently, your grip on the divorce papers tightening. And Toji, of course, took notice. He took the papers from you with one hand, giving them a once-over before passing them back over.
"Come on, since ya wanted it so bad, read me those divorce papers," Toji handed you the stack of papers, pointing to where you'd signed your initials just a couple hours prior. Your hands shook as you held the papers, your vision blurry as you tried to make out the legal jargon in front of you. Even the simplest of words seemed all too complicated to try to make out.
"T-Toji, I can't," your voice cracked, your grip on the papers tightening when his cock reached all that much deeper inside of you. Toji clicked his tongue, peering over your shoulder to read the first sentence from the document. "That's not what it says ma, try again."
"Without all the stuttering too."
You took a deep breath, willing yourself to focus on the words in front of you instead of Toji's cock sinking further and further into you. "S-Says that the divorce agreement was made today between us," you clutched the sheets tighter, your eyes almost rolling back when Toji bottomed out inside of you. The tip of his cock dripping precum, your walls fluttering as you tried to get adjusted.
"Mm, yeah, keep goin'," Toji really couldn't care—his focus solely on the way that your cunt stretched out to fit his cock. Leaking around his shaft, loud squelches when he pulled out overplaying whatever shitty soap opera was playing. "And what'd I say about the s-stuttering?" Toji mocked your words, his own hips stuttering mere seconds later while he tried not to get absorbed in your cunt. Not that it was an easy task by any means.
It was hard, especially with the way that you claimed to be over this marriage despite your pussy claiming otherwise. When you opened your mouth to speak, the only thing that left you was a moan. "F-Fuck Toji, right there," your eyes shut tightly at the touch of his calloused hand making itself in between your legs, his thumb rubbing at your clit in a speed that felt like it combated his own running abilities.
"That's not what it says, c'mon," Toji grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointer, turning your head to face the overwhelmingly long divorce papers. You wouldn't finish tonight if he intended for you to read the whole thing, you knew that much. A harsh slap against your swollen clit made the pleasure coursing through your veins mix with pain, a shaky gasp leaving your kiss-swollen lips.
Drool leaked from the corner of your mouth, the black ink smearing with each drop that fell from your parted lips. Your walls enveloped every inch of his cock perfectly, your cunt holding his cock in a vice-like grip. "That I won't try to t-take your things," you managed to get out, hoping that it would be good enough. You knew the two of you wouldn't finish today if he made you read the never ending stack of papers.
"Good enough," Toji sounded like he would've kept it going if he could, but you set them down as quickly as he spoke. It was almost like Toji was trying to remind you of why you'd fallen in love with him in the first place—the man reverent to your cunt and your cunt only. Every grip of your hips kept you closer and closer to his body, almost as a way for Toji to make sure you weren't slipping away.
"Wh—" Before you had the chance to complain about the loss of contact, Toji had already carried you without a smidge of struggle. His hands hooked underneath your plush thighs, hoisting you up against the wall. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his slutty waist, practically clinging onto him like a koala. "There we go, there's that pretty lil face," Toji placed his pointer underneath your chin, taking in the view in front of him.
The glazed over look in your eyes, the sweat beading up on your forehead, the makeup that he'd successfully ruined—everything about you was just so beautiful. How you tried to avoid looking in his direction for too long. "Don't leave me ma, need you in my life," the words were whispered into your ear, his cock pushing back inside of you in one swift motion. Toji's fingers went back to your throbbing clit, his pointer and middle rubbing against it at the perfect speed.
Not too fast, not too slow, and not too rough.
"Don't ask me to do that," you almost sounded pained as you spoke—not from him filling you up, but for the implication of his words. You'd practically babble anything right now, anything for him to keep going. To forget about the reality that awaits the two of you. Toji's lips found yours in an instant, the exchange between the two of you almost depraved. His mouth was feverish in the way that it moved against yours, like he'd never get the chance again.
Your hand went to the back of his head, pushing him closer against you. Letting yourself forget for just a little while longer. A string of saliva connected your lips to his when you pulled away—only to catch air. "I’m close, Toji, so close," you whined against his lips, your release coating his shaft a mere moments later. Toji only used that as lubricant, his movements quicker against your cunt to chase his own release.
"There's no one else for me, I'll stop goin' to t-the casino, stop gettin' into trouble," Toji had been reduced to a babbling the first thing he pulled out of his ass, if only to get you to stay. His head rested against the junction of your neck, basking in the remnants of proximity that he could get. Shaky breaths left his lips with each thrust of his hips, feeling himself getting closer and closer. "You've been saying that since we've been married."
"I mean it this time, I promise," you'd never heard a lie sound so pretty slipping from someone's lips before until now.
He bit down on the side of your neck, hard. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to where you'd probably have to use a tube of concealer to even attempt to cover up the bruising mark. Causing you problems even now. But you'd be lying if the sudden act of possessiveness had your walls clenching against him even tighter, if that was even possible anymore.
His cock was barely moving against the tight grip you held around his shaft, his pace stuttering. "Fuck, fuck, so tight," Toji let out a loud groan, completely at the will of your pussy. He threw his head back, a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks in this lighting. Ropes and ropes of cum decorated your cunt, his softening length snug inside of you. Toji ended up pulling out a couple moments later, scooping the drops of cum that leaked down your thighs with his finger.
Toji was shameless in the way that he stuck the finger in his mouth, a low moan leaving his lips at the combined taste of him and you. Before your rationality came back, before you got the chance to even think about regretting this, you leaned in and crashed your lips against his own. Tasting yourself on his tongue. The kiss lingered between the two of you more than it needed to, it was less rushed than the prior ones you'd shared.
Like a last taste.
"So, you still want to get that divorce?" Toji knew you would've just babbled whatever for him to keep going, saving the question until now. His movements were almost reluctant as he pulled his pants over his legs once again, making little attempt to fix up his hair. If anything, his fingers only ended up messing the strands even more. Despite knowing the answer deep down, Toji still held out hope. That maybe you'd had some eye-opening moment while he was balls-deep.
You stood up properly, looking over at the ruined sheets on the table before looking back over at him. "I do," you spoke after a couple seconds, grabbing your tattered panties from the floor and smoothing over your dress. Trying to maintain whatever semblance of dignity you had left. Even if it was probably just as tattered up as your underwear at this point.
"Why? You know I love you. You know that you love me. So why should we get separated?" You did know that. But you also weren't sure that he'd ever loved you enough to consider changing. To consider the fact that you needed some sort of affection outside of sex.
"Because you think that somehow every problem between us can be resolved with sex. You say that you want to do better and yet, you never do. It doesn't even feel like you're my husband half of the time," all the bottled up feelings from the past couple months spilled out of you in a manner of seconds. All the bottled up thoughts that maybe you should've told your husband about earlier. Though, you weren't even sure if Toji would've paid it any mind.
And almost as if he'd read your train of thought, "Why didn't you tell me about all this before just hittin' me with divorce papers?"
"Because the few times that I did, you told me to stop bitching. That I shouldn't have anything to complain about with a roof over my head and a fridge full of food," you started off, almost waiting for him to deny what you were saying, "And while I'm not saying that I'm not thankful for those things, I also don't want to feel ungrateful for saying that I miss my husband."
Silence lingered between the two of you, each second that passed by only confirming what the two of you already knew by now. That a divorce wasn't such a far-fetched idea. Toji knew there wasn't left to even attempt fighting for, so he simply just told you, "I'll sign 'em when you get the new ones."
#starzradio ✐ᝰ#↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ streaming: toji fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#toji fushiguro#toji fushiguro x female reader#toji fushiguro smut#fushiguro toji#fushiguro toji smut#toji fanfic#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x y/n#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#toji fushiguro fanfiction#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you#fushiguro toji x y/n#fushiguro toji x female! reader#x reader smut#x you smut#toji smut#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji x female reader#toji x f!reader
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How to cure a grump (3)
Summary: You’re losing your job on Christmas.
Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, grumpy Bucky, awful boss, mistaken identity, kinda fake dating trope, snowed-in trope
How to cure a grump (2)
Tonight, you don’t get much sleep. You toss and turn in your bed, knowing your boss, the man costing you your job and future, is sleeping right next door.
How dare he come here to demand shit from you after kicking you out two days before Christmas! Mr. Rogers knew about the password and PIN. He could’ve easily told your boss about it.
“Wait! That bastard!” You sit up on your bed and curse loudly. They are friends. Maybe this is some sick game they are playing. “I won’t be the butt of their jokes!”
When you get out of bed, you push your feet into the Santa Claus-themed slippers your mom got you for Christmas last year.
Looking down at your body, you chuckle as the shoes look so different from the high heels you wore for work. They look like Santa's face. They have a white, fluffy beard and mustache. A red Santa hat sits atop each slipper.
“Fuck it,” you mutter and storm toward the door. If Barnes wants to mess with you, he’ll pay for it.
You storm into the guest room without knocking, immediately switching the light on.
“What?” Bucky looks at you like a deer in the headlight. He sits on the bed, in nothing but his boxer briefs. While you try not to stare at his abs, muscular arms, or the prominent bulge in his pants, he’s less subtle.
Bucky looks you up and down in your red and white Christmas-themed pajama set. “Are you often wearing onesies?” He snorts. Bucky never spent time with a woman wearing anything but silky nightgowns, or only a smile for bed.
You’re wearing a long-sleeved pajamas onesie style, featuring a fair isle pattern with elves, snowmen, and Christmas trees on a red background with white accents.
You huff. “I didn’t know you hold power over me in the bedroom too. It’s soft and plush, and I don’t give a shit if you like it or not. I want to know why you are here! Is this a trick? Do you and Rogers want to make fun of me?”
“Rogers must’ve forgotten you left the password,” Bucky grunts while wildly gesturing toward you. “I talked to him, and he didn’t mention it. If I knew about it, I wouldn’t have come here to spend the night at a guestroom in the middle of nowhere instead of getting drunk on Barbados, two hot blondes in my arms.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Figures,” you huff. “I’ll call Walt. Maybe, he can help us get you to the airport so you can leave all the little ants working for you behind to spend an annual salary on your vacation!”
“Not my annual salary,” he dares to say. Bucky even smirks, and you lose your temper again. Right when he gets up from the bed to grab his pants, you jump into motion and tackle him to the ground. He yelps as you slap him across the face, once, twice, three times.
Bucky grabs your wrists in an attempt to stop you from hurting him.
“Munchkin is everything—” Your mother chuckles as she watches you sit on top of Bucky. “Oh, kids, I’m sorry. If only I knew you’re celebrating your reunion!” She closes the door behind her, leaving you and Bucky to your fight.
“Tomorrow morning you are gone, bastard,” you growl. “Now let go of me before I castrate you.”
He smirks. “Your mom believed we were having sex. Did you keep her awake often while you were still living here?”
“Says the man whore,” you wiggle in his grip, snarling as he won’t let go. “I’m not the one with an endless stream of women leaving my bedroom.”
“Not only my bedroom.” He still smirks when he finally releases your wrists.
You hurriedly get up and glare at him.
“I don’t care. In the morning, you’ll find a way to get out of my house, and my town. Use your money for something useful for once. And don’t contact me again! You are dead to me”
Slamming the door shut behind you, you huff. How can women fall for your asshole boss? You can’t believe they only see his pretty façade.
“Morning, lovebirds,” your mother chirps as you make your way into the kitchen. She’s humming Last Christmas while you are in a sour mood. Bucky Barnes has this effect on you. “Oh, where’s James?”
You take a deep breath, ready to tell your mother the truth. This is a serious case of mistaken identity. “Mom, uh—do you remember that I told you my boyfriend broke things up with me some time ago?”
“Of course, Munchkin,” she coos while flipping a pancake. “I’m all for second chances, Y/N. Maybe he finally realized how much you mean to him. But—” She points a knife in Bucky’s direction the moment he steps into the kitchen. “If he messes up again, I’ll castrate him!”
“Like mother, like daughter,” Bucky grumbles as he steps further into the room. “Good morning. Please don’t start the new day by castrating me.” He flashes your mom a stunning smile, earning a giggle.
“Oh, I was joking, James,” she says and goes back to preparing breakfast for a whole football team. “What do you like for breakfast? We have waffles, pancakes, bacon, and eggs, or French toast.”
“I usually only eat egg white.” Bucky pats his stomach, rubbing it. “I try to stay fit.”
“For the ladies,” you sarcastically say. “Mom, he won’t stay for breakfast. James will leave now and try to get a flight back to New York.”
“What? No! He must stay for breakfast,” she sniffles and uses her powerful puppy dog look to make your resolve to kick your former boss out crumble. “What about the Christmas dinner? I already planned everything. I was awake all night!”
“Mom,” you sigh. “He needs to take care of business.” It’s not a complete lie. Bucky wants to take care of a few things back in New York. “Do you think we can make it to the airport?”
“No,” she pouts before taking a large bite from one of the waffles. You watch her chew slowly before speaking again. “The streets aren’t the only problem. Maybe we could make it to the airport with your dad’s old truck, but the airport is closed.”
“I got a private jet,” Bucky throws in, earning an angry look from you. Of course, that rich bastard has a private jet.
“James, no plane will take off today, or for the next days. Not even a private jet,” your mother points out. “If you’d excuse me now, I must pick up a few things for Christmas.”
“Mom, what about the snow?” You hate to see her sad face. “Do you want me to get what you need? I was always the better driver.”
“Your dad was the best driver—” She stiffens, and you can see grief flash up in her eyes. No matter how long he’s gone, she’ll always miss your dad. “He taught me everything.”
“I know,” you murmur and hold out your hand to squeeze hers tightly. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“Yeah.” She nods while struggling to hold back a sob. “I forgot to add a few things to my Christmas list. The streets should be free for now. We should hurry before more snow will keep us from leaving.”
Much to your dismay, Bucky decided to join you on your shopping tour. His pilot told him there was not a chance to get back to New York anytime soon. Now he needs a place to stay over the holidays and boots. It’s too damn cold to wear slippers.
“Over there you can buy boots,” you say, and point at the only shop in town selling warm boots. “I’ll get the things on the list, Mom. You can wait here.”
“Alright, Munchkin,” your mom says while watching Bucky look at you, brows furrowed. He dips his head to watch you storm off. “Don’t take it to heart, James. Christmas was always hard for Y/N since her dad passed away, and John left her for some other girl.”
“John, huh?” Bucky asks as you are busy buying everything your mom has on her list. “What happened?”
“It’s not my place to tell you, James. All I can say is that they wanted to marry the next spring and John decided to cheat.” She huffs. “Y/N moved across the county to get away from him, their business, and the girl he chose over her.”
“Their business?” Bucky presses on. “What kind of business?”
“Oh, nothing special. They—” Your mother gasps loudly as John steps toward you at your aunt’s bakery. “No, no! This will ruin Christmas for Y/N!”
“What?” Bucky follows your mother’s eyes, seeing you stiffen as John stands in front of you to chat you up. “That him?”
“Yes, I must stop him from hurting her!”
“Leave this to me.” Your mother smirks when Bucky enters the bakery. She even chuckles as John’s fiancé watches your former boss walk toward you.
Bucky, on the other hand, doesn’t know what came over him until he shoves John out of his way to cup your face and kiss you fiercely.
You whimper against Bucky's warm and plump lips. It's been a while since someone kissed you, and this kiss is on top of your list.
“Dude, excuse me! We were talking,” John grunts as Bucky and you part. You stare at Bucky, unsure what to do. “Hey! This is not the place to make out!”
“What?” Bucky turns around to smirk at John. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there. I was missing my fiancé, is all.”
“Fiancé?” John hiccups as you are too stunned to react. What just happened? Why did your former boss kiss you? Why is John here?
“Yes, fiancé. And I’d appreciate it if you stopped distracting her. Her mom is waiting outside, and it’s damn cold. We don’t want this lovely lady to get sick, don’t we.”
“Sure, sure,” John awkwardly stammers. “It was nice seeing you, Y/N. Have a good Christmas.” John and the woman he chose over you leave the bakery in a hurry.
You’re still shell-shocked and just watch them leave. What else can you do? If you slap Bucky’s face now, John knows this was all just play pretend.
Meanwhile, your mother stands outside the bakery, smiling to herself as Bucky nervously rubs the back of his neck.
More tags in reblog.
How to cure a grump@cjand10, @nofingjustaninchident, @pettyjayy, @pattiemac1, @formulas-bitch, @winchestert101, @greatmistakes, @mrsnikstan, @jokersqueenofchaos
#bucky barnes#business au#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#x reader#How to cure a grump (3)
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I found a paper that detailed one specific instance of a unisnail (not a unislug) in 2017, but it also lists some other published and unpublished occurances of unisnails!
They don't know exactly how these things happen - whether each individual case is the result of genetic mutation, epigenetic influence (genetic/environmental interaction), chimerism/conjoined twin anomalies, or abnormalities with regrowing damaged or severed eye stalks - but unislug here seems to be the result of at least some genetic component, given we have a Unislug Jr.!
In the comments of the facebook post, the OP shows a picture of unislug's egg clutch - it's smaller than the egg clutches of other leopard slugs (which could be a one-off thing, or it could be a pattern where unislugs produce fewer eggs). From what i could see, there only seem to be about 7, maybe 8 eggs? (someone correct me if I'm wrong!!)
Left: "Chubby's" clutch (a normal leopard slug); Right: Unislug's clutch
This is just speculation on my part, but I'd bet that this merged eyestalk phenotype is the result of the interaction of at least two different genes. Presumably, unislug mated with itself to produce this clutch - which means that if this mutation was simply one recessive gene, each of its progeny would be guaranteed to show the same phenotype. (If a homozygous recessive genotype is uu, unislug would have the uu genotype in both sex cells, which can only produce uu embryos).
If the phenotype is caused by a dominant allele, then unislug could either have a Uu or a UU genotype. Self-fertilization would result in only UU embryos if unislug was UU, and approximately a 1:2:1 split of UU :Uu :uu embryos if unislug was Uu. In this case, only uu embryos would have the normal stalk phenotype, about 25% at most (and 75% would have the mutant eye stalk).
But only one of about 8 embryos showed the mutant phenotype (~13%), so that makes the dominant allele theory unlikely (not entirely impossible, though, especially given how few eggs we're working with here).
So given the admitedly very little data available, my wild guess is that there are a couple of different genes that are inherited independently from each other, each of which needs to have at least one dominant mutant allele to result in the mutant phenotype. The embryos that don't show the fused eyestalk probably each have one or two of these mutant genotypes, but all of the proposed genes have to have the mutant allele at once in order to produce the mutant eyestalk, which is why only one of these babies turned out to be Unislug Jr.
I am unreasonably invested in figuring out exactly what causes this. I should go to bed.
Oh my god this person found a leopard slug with its eyestalks fused together??? One super long stalk but it still has two eyes on the end. That's the cutest thing in the entire world. And then it had a ton of babies but JUST ONE baby inherited the mutation!!
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civil. (j.m.)
masterlist
desc: you can’t stand joel miller, and he can’t stand you.
pairing: enemies to lovers! joel miller x gn! reader
a/n: this is my gift for the pedrostories secret santa 2024 event!!! i had so much fun writing this for my giftee, @adora-but-ginger. thanks so much for introducing me to the absolute bop which is never let me down by depeche mode which inspired this lil fic. i really hope you enjoy it babes <3 happy holidays!
“You’re an idiot. A big, hulking idiot.”
“You think I’m big and hulking?”
You could hear the smirk in Joel’s voice, which made equal parts of anger and embarrassment flare up inside of you. You could admit he was… well-built. Sickeningly, disgustingly so. And right now, you wanted to snap his well-built body in two.
“I’m going to kill you.”
“I’d like to see you try, but we’re a little tied up at the moment,” his tone was sardonic, his meaning literal - the two of you were in the bed of some raiders’ truck, tied up and blindfolded, being driven to who-knows-where. It was probably for the best, as the restraints around your wrists were the only things stopping you two from choking each other out.
“And whose fault is that?” you hissed.
“I’m glad you asked. Yours.”
“Mine?!” you exclaimed, the anger pulsing through you growing stronger by the minute. “I told you we should avoid the cabin and you still dragged us right into this mess.”
Joel had insisted the abandoned cabin would be a safe place to rest. The raiders had the same idea, and were quick to pounce on the both of you after coming across your horses outside. They had ambushed the two of you, deciding to bring you back to their camp to figure out what to do with you later - probably nothing too pleasant. They had left your horses behind, and you had overheard them saying they’d come back for them later.
“Maybe if you didn’t fall asleep when you were supposed to be on lookout, we wouldn’t be here right now,” Joel muttered.
You sighed, a dull knot of ache forming behind your eyes. It was true. You had fucked up. But he had fucked up too. If it were anybody else with you, the two of you may have been able to admit that, kiss and make up. But you and Joel never got along. You bickered and fought on every patrol you were forced on together, and this was your last straw. You were livid, and he was too.
“We wouldn’t have been there in the first place if you didn’t-“
“Enough with the goddamn lover’s quarrel!” one of the raiders yelled out from the cab.
That shut you and Joel up sufficiently, but that word tinged the silence with a shy awkwardness.
“Lover’s quarrel,” Joel scoffed.
“Yeah. ‘Lovers’,” you mimic his veneer of nonchalance, poorly veiling the flustered tone in both your voices, “in your dreams.”
“In yours,” he shot back, immediately rolling his eyes at himself.
He was too old for this shit. Everytime he was around you, he acted like a petty teenager. You just ignited a flame within him, one that he mistook for the bitter burn of loathing, not knowing it was something else entirely.
“So, how are we getting out of this one?” you whispered.
“Why are you asking me? I thought I was an idiot?”
“I wish you could see the look I’m giving you right now, Miller.”
He lowered his voice to a whisper, unheard by the raiders up front over the rumble of the engine.
“Admit I’m not an idiot, and I’ll get us out of here.”
“Oh, come on-“ you started, gritting your teeth with exasperation.
“Or, you can always spend the rest of the day with our new friends here.”
“...You’re not an idiot.”
“And, who’s in charge?”
“Oh, fuck y-”
“I can always let you hitch a ride with these guys and see how you fare on your own,” his voice took on an annoyingly laissez-faire quality. You hated him.
“You’re in charge,” you assented.
“Correct. I hid my knife in my pocket. They missed it when they took away our weapons.”
Maybe you didn’t hate him.
“Maybe you’re not as big of an idiot as I thought,” you smiled.
“Flattery will get you nowhere. Get it out of my pocket, then cut my ropes. Then I’ll cut yours.”
You shimmied close to him, trying to ignore how the proximity made the heat rise in your collar. You tried to convince yourself it’s a physical reaction to your hatred for him. Like an allergy.
You managed to slide the knife out, only almost stabbing him in the ass once on a bumpy stretch of road.
“Hands!” He had grit through his teeth.
“Please, there’s nothing back there to cut. You’re as flat as a board,” you had whispered, immediately blushing and following your words up with a quick: “Not that I’ve been looking or anything.” (You had looked. A couple times. But you’d die before telling him that.)
Unable to see, you fumbled around a little, careful not to cut him as you sliced through the ropes binding his wrists together. Once free, he lifted his blindfold with careful, quick movements, sure to not let the men in the cab see him, before cutting off the remaining ropes keeping his legs tied together then doing the same for you.
With the ropes loosened in heaps around your wrists and ankles, you whispered: “What now?”
His voice was determined, but grim. “We pray.”
“I gotta take a leak.” One of the raiders mumbled a mere 5 minutes later, after you both had replaced your blindfolds and were acting like two good kidnapees in the back of the truck, in hopes that the men wouldn’t look too closely at the both of you and discover you had freed yourselves.
“Let’s hope our prayers have been answered. Do you trust me?” Joel asked.
“No.”
“You’re gonna have to. 3…2…1.”
The two of you ripped off your blindfolds.
The scuffle was over in a few minutes. Joel’s chest heaved from the exertion of the fight as he cleaned the bloody knife off on his shirt. He had subdued one of the men pretty quickly, which gave you enough time to grab your gun from the cab and deal with the other.
He had done a pretty good job, you had to admit, with hiding his knife and handling the raiders. Without him, you would have been royally fucked. You felt a twinge of gratefulness, and a pang of something else as you watched him, the slope of his nose and hardness of his jaw as he wicked the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. He had saved you.
Then, you looked down at the two dead raiders, and what glimmer of heroism that you saw in Joel’s figure distorted into frustration.
You aimed your gun at Joel.
“Jesus Christ! What is wrong with you?!” he yelled, the bullet whizzing past his head.
“Cool it, Texas,” you huffed, “Now, hold still this time.” You aimed again.
“I just saved your ass, and you try to shoot me because of it?!”
“I told you we shouldn’t have gone to the cabin-”
“Look who’s talking, sleepyhead!”
You started to walk.
“Where d’you think you’re going?” he called after you, his voice already receding into the distance.
“Jackson. Back to the village of which you are the idiot of!” you screamed over your shoulder.
“A bit of a convoluted way to put it, darlin’.”
You refused to dignify that with an answer.
You had only made it a few metres down the road when you heard the roar of the raiders’ truck, and the heat of the thrumming engine as it pulled up beside you.
You stared straight ahead, feeling Joel’s gaze rove over you from the driver’s window as he cruised alongside you.
“Get in,” Joel called out to you.
“No.”
“D’you know where you’re going? ‘Cause I sure as hell don’t.”
“I do. I think. I tried to memorise the turns they took while we were tied up.”
“Well, you aren’t getting back to Jackson anytime soon on foot.”
You ignored him, marching forward. The next few moments were clouded in silence as you stormed down the road, Joel driving slowly beside you all this while.
“C’mon, get in. Please?” Joel’s voice was startlingly soft, a flash of vulnerability that you hadn’t expected that stopped you in your tracks. He said his words slowly, like it was difficult for him to articulate. It definitely wasn’t easy for someone as stubborn as him to seek help from you. “I can’t leave you out here alone, and I need your help to navigate.”
You turned to look at him, not expecting to find the sincerity scrawled over his face. It softened you. But you liked to make him suffer.
“Who’s in charge?” you said.
“Oh, c’mon…”
“Miller. Answer me. Who is in charge?”
“You are. Now get in.”
You smiled in satisfaction, clambering into the passenger seat.
“You’re in charge of navigation, I’m in charge of driving,” he mumbled beneath his breath.
You chuckled at his comment. Suddenly his snarkiness, though annoying, seemed like a harmless dig after the events of the day. That laugh was utter release, a reprieve from the loathing for him that had been boiling your blood all day.
Peeking over at you, you watched his confused face turn into one that mirrored yours. One of cathartic happiness. He let out a laugh, unable to help it. You had never noticed his laugh, his smile. Like a silver lining. You liked it.
The rest of the drive passed in relative silence, save for your directions, though the air between you was different. Still electric in its energy, but not because of anger, or frustration. It was strangely warm.
The sun had begun to dip beneath the horizon, and with a satisfying click, he flicked on the headlights, making a turn. The lights illuminated the cabin and your horses. Your heart soared.
“Well, shit. You did it,” he whispered.
You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, and more laughter bubbled from his lips. Laughing with Joel seemed so foreign after spending every patrol together arguing or in heated silence. It was pleasant.
From here, the two of you would be able to find your way back to Jackson, no question. The two of you mounted your horses and started your way back. He turned to watch you, the delicate turn of your head as you gazed up at the vast sky, drinking it all in. He felt that same pang he always felt around you, what he always thought was annoyance. It hit him with that same ferocity, but it was charged with a different energy. It felt kind of nice.
You turned to lock eyes with him.
“I’m sorry,” the both of you said in unison.
You both dissolved into laughter.
“Well, I’ll go first,” Joel chuckled, “I’m sorry. I really am. I should have listened to you-”
“No, I’m sorry!” you said. “If it wasn’t for me falling asleep… and I guess trying to shoot you wasn’t very nice.”
“Wasn’t polite, was it?” he snorted, his smile reflecting your sheepish one. “Still, I fucked up. And the way you helped us find our way back… you saved our asses.”
“I fucked up too. And if anyone saved us it was you. There was no way we would have gotten out of there without you thinking ahead and hiding the knife.”
“I guess we make a pretty alright team, huh?” he said, the smile he shot you so hopeful and sweet you felt that hot, molten feeling in your gut again, though it definitely was not hate.
“Yeah, we do,” you sighed. “I guess if your brother’s gonna keep insisting on putting us on patrol together, we could at least be civil to each other. I think we work together better that way. Deal?”
“Deal,” he said. “You still drive me a little crazy though.”
“Ditto,” you smiled at him, and the smile he flashed back made you feel strange and floaty, a similar sort of light-headedness from when you used to get so mad at him on patrols you wanted to scream. You were starting to realise that feeling may have been motivated by a different emotion entirely. He was definitely driving you a little crazy.
“Where the hell were you guys? You missed the bonfire,” Tommy called out to Joel as the both of you arrived at the centre of Jackson, a dying bonfire crackling behind him.
“That’s the least of our problems,” Joel huffed, dismounting from his horse as you followed suit, thrusting the reins into his brother’s hands. “You deal with that.”
Tommy shrugged, leading the horses back to the stable.
The two of you stood side by side, staring into what little was left of the bonfire, now a flame that licked up to around Joel’s knee-height. The crowd that was surrounding it earlier that night had fully dispersed, leaving just you and Joel alone before the fire. He turned to look at you, the fire glazing your eyes with orange and red hues, setting your gaze alight.
“I have an idea,” you said. Your smile meant trouble. “Let’s jump over it.”
“What?” Joel asked, eyebrows shooting up incredulously.
“I read it somewhere. It’s an old tradition, supposed to bring about good luck and new beginnings,” you smile at him, a smile that instantly wins him over. “We need all the luck we can get. C’mon Miller, indulge me. Be civil.”
His laugh was hesitant, but when you reached for his hand he knew he could do it.
“Do you trust me?” you grinned.
“Yes.”
“Well, you’re gonna have to. 3…2…1!”
There was a moment there, with his hand in yours, at the very top of where the flames swirled, where it felt like the two of you were flying, suspended against the dark sky.
Then, you hit the ground.
You were lying beside each other in the dirt, panting in between gasps of laughter, the cuffs of your pants and the soles of your shoes singed. That electric warmth fired through the air, boiling your blood - definitely not anger. Something else. Passion and anger possess that same fiery quality.
It burned so brightly within the both of you that he couldn’t help it. He leaned over to kiss you. The fire was warm by your side, the sky dark and electric above you as a storm gathered. The two of you were definitely going to be more than civil.
#pedrostoriesgift24#pedrostories#joel miller imagine#joel miller x reader#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel miller#pedro pascal x you#pedro x reader#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal x reader#the last of us fluff#the last of us
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# HEAD OVER HEELS .ᐟ — yu jimin
pairing — yu jimin x female reader
after most of her relationships ending up in heartbreak, jimin foolishly swore to never fall in love again. you, of course, just had to charm her.
"god, what the fuck am i doing here?" truly, jimin didn't know how she got here, getting dragged out of her bed and thrown in minjeong's back seat like some modern day kidnapping. “of all places?”
minjeong only sends her a small smile, eyes flitting over to where the school's volleyball team warmed up before the last match of the regionals. "you needed to get out of bed. thank me later."
jimin rolls her eyes as ningning and aeri arrive with popcorn in hand, passing them to a beaming minjeong along with her wallet. "oh, you're here! what a miracle!"
"oh, please." jimin shrugs off a laughing aeri, while ningning scans the older's outfit, baggy sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, along with her glasses and hair pulled up into a messy bun.
ningning clears her throat. "so... how- how are you dealing with all... this?" the break-up was recent, a mere two days ago, and clearly, jimin wasn’t taking it well. everyone around her treaded carefully with the situation and handled it like a fragile piece of glass, and she’d had enough.
“shit. but i— ugh, i don’t want to talk about it right now.” jimin responded, noting how the court in front of her was the finals game of the volleyball season, the famed university they went to playing against their notorious rival. “let’s just watch this. that’s why you brought me here.”
minjeong nodded in understanding, though the rest of the girls seemed concerned and stared at her for about a few seconds before following suit, ningning already reaching in the bowl of popcorn in her hand, before passing it along. “who do you think’s going to win?”
minjeong hummed as she grabbed a handful of popcorn while aeri scrolled through her phone, snapping a quick photo of the court and posting it on her story. “i think we’ve got this in the bag. we did well throughout the season.”
“mm, but we’re talking about—” as the two droned on about volleyball, jimin couldn’t help but be zoned in on the player with her hair up into a ponytail, swept back tightly as the ball between her hands spun and was sent flying through the air and across the other side of the court, a loud bang echoong in the gym.
“hey, who is that?” the words have left her mouth before she could fully realise that she’d stood up from her seat and leaned over the railing, peering down at the player.
“hm? oh, her?” a small smile stretched itself across minjeong’s lips. “that’s y/n kim. vice captain of the volleyball team and right-side hitter. she’s got a mean right arm.”
“huh.”
“why, interested in her?” aeri’s voice pipes up as her eyes raked over jimin’s figure that leant over the railing, looking wholly interested in the warm-up session. “i’ll give it to you, jimin. you’ve got great taste. but… y/n, hmm, how do i put this? y/n is kind of your cliché jock. she’s real sweet though.”
ningning’s lips puckered into an ‘o’ shape, fingers snapping. “oh, right! you had that month long situationship!”
jimin raised a brow. “you did? how come i’m only hearing about this now?”
ningning flashes a sheepish smile. “well, we kind of were keeping it in the down-low.” god, this was interesting. but jimin would rather die than admit that she’d found ningning’s situationship with you (who she thinks is quite attractive) morbidly intriguiing. the girl’s had a lot of them, so why should the one with you be any different?
“see, the whole time we were talking—”
“heads!”
oh, shit.
pacing in front of the nurse’s office with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, you couldn’t help but grimace at the sight of the nurse’s ice pack pressed on the back of jimin’s head. god, you did damage.
“i am so, so, sorry. i didn’t mean to hit you, nor did i know that the ball was going to bounce off the floor too hard and hit you on the back of your head.” you’d rushed out in a breath, all panicked and— it’s kinda cute.
“it’s fine.” jimin had dismissed your words like it was nothing, which it probably was or she was just so sick of your antsy behaviour and the hit on her head had taken a massive toll on her that she wasn’t bothered at all to do anything about the forming lump on her skin. ouch.
“really. calm down.” god, who knew that when minjeong had dragged her out of the house and flung her into her backseat that she’d end up sitting in the nurse’s office longer than she’d stayed at the gym.
“i’m just— this has never happened before and i feel so bad because it looked like it hurt and—”
“—y/n, calm down. i’m fine. you need to take deep breaths.” what was meant to be a simple statement ended up with the other girl obeying, earning a raised brow from her. why are you obedient? it was odd, or maybe she’s just been around too much distasteful mem that such a simple action made her heart warm.
“i’ll stay here with you until you’re feeling better.” you’d mumbled after taking deep breaths, pulling up a chair and sitting near the edge of the chair.
“what? you’re going to miss the game! and it’s against our rival school—”
“— it’s fine. i’d rather look after someone i injured than play against those egotistical bastards.” your eyes are sparkling and oh my god why do you look like a golden retriever? no wonder aeri had interest in you.
she huffs. “fine. have it your way.”
your team ended up losing that night by just a smidge. though, on the bright side, you got a pretty girl’s number!
“this is the third time this week.”
“maybe she likes you.”
“or she feels bad about hurting you?”
“no, i think it’s because she likes jimin.”
“guys, please.” jimin raises a hand to quiet to girls, shoving the chocolate box and flowers in her bag as she slammed her locker shut, hastily speedwalking down the hallway.
“hey— jimin, wait up!” the three struggled to keep up with jimin’s pace, who was seemingly eager to get out of school the moment the bell rang, feet gliding across the polished floors like a woman on a mission. which she was, in a way.
“why are you walking so fast—”
oh, you’re there. oh god, you’re there.
you leant on the side of your motorcycle, looking like every other walking toxic red flags yet something from the way you’d perked up upon seeing her enter your line of vision made you a whole lot distinguishable from the rest.
“jimin!” oh, god. oh, hell no. god, you smell good. wait, you’re right in front of her?! “care for a ride?” and how is she supposed to say no to that?
you’d been driving around for twenty minutes now, her arm still wound tightly around your waist as she pressed her body against your back, heart pounding harshly against her ribcage and she couldn’t differentiate if it was from the fast pace that you’re cruising the highway on or from the lack of promixity between your bodies.
after what seemed like ages, you’d come to a slow stop and her arms slowly unravelled around your mid-section, standing on wobbly legs as she struggled to hold in the puke from the fast speed. oh god, jimin. keep it in.
she was too busy trying to keep her lunch in her stomach that she’d failed to notice you setting up a picnic under the tree that overlooked the hill they were on, shooting her an oh-so-sweet smile that she’d flopped onto the fabric like a fish out of water.
god, the view was gorgeous. “uh, i brought you here because i still feel bad about hitting you with that volleyball.” you don’t really beat about the bush, huh? “and i was hoping that bringing you here and asking if i could continue to keep giving you flowers and chocolates would make up for that night?”
jimin blinks, the situation all too sudden yet somehow exhilarating with the way you were practically *fussing* over her while she’s too busy flushing and struggling to get ahold of her shit. “i, uh, sure.”
“great!” there’s that smile.
days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and oh, before jimin knew it, she’s horribly head over heels for you. no wonder you attracted so many people. you were so incredibly addicting that once she got a taste, she couldn’t get enough.
fuck. no, no, no, no. she can’t fall in love again. no, it’ll just end up like last time. no, but you’re so sweet, and nice, and caring— but the last guys were like you too. the only difference is, you’re not a guy. you’re not some foolish guy who’ll play around with her feelings and give her false hope. you’re actually considerate, and you actually care about what she thinks, and you actually put her first for once in her life.
god, this is quite literally the bare minimum and, what the fuck is that beeping?
jimin heaves a deep gasp and wakes up, body taut as she sat up hastily on the bed, space empty beside her, wide eyes blinking as she was left to simmer in silence before tears built up in her eyes and oh, she’s crying. were you all just a dream?
the door creaks open and you walked in, dressed in the baggy pyjama she’d bought you a few months ago for your birthday, your lips parting for a yawn that was interrupted upon seeing her figure swaddled in blankets that stood frozen like a deer caught in headlights, tears drying just a bit. “jimin?”
you were here. you were here with her, with your arms wrapped around her body and comforting her, whispering the sweetest of nonsense as she melted against you. christ, she’s horribly head over heels.
guys i'm not gna lie to yall rn but idek what this oneshot what supposed to be. i js like of sat in the couch and js started typing whatever came to mind.
masterlist.
#cinnamanz's works .ᐟ#divider by soulari#aespa#aespa x fem reader#aespa karina#aespa winter#aespa giselle#aespa ningning#aespa x reader#karina#yu jimin#yoo jimin#karina aespa#yu jimin x reader#yu jimin x fem reader#kpop gg oneshot#kpop gg x female reader#kpop gg
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Call of Christmas
Aka the holiday season with 141
COD characters x F reader (One shots!) + smut
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧
Captain John Price smut
You hurriedly raced through chores, much like being put on a continuous autopilot. Throw the tabs of detergent into the laundry while making sure to separate the light and dark clothes. Put the leftover dishes from the sink inside the dishwasher, vacuum up the collecting fuzz that started to gather on the carpet, and so on.
However, the most important task was yet to be done. Pushed to the edge of your to-due list and collect dust.
Wrapping the presents.
Dear lord. Where would you even start, not only was gift wrapping the most tedious task on earth but most of the time it had a 98% chance of going wrong.
How could such a jolly and festive activity as simply wrapping a gift turn into the worst part of the holiday season? In your case, surprisingly easily.
It was a guessing game on your part, to figure out which wrapping paper to adorn a present in (different wrapping paper for different people of course). Cut the perfect measurements for said gift, and wrap it in some way that would look presentable.
Almost every time you would screw up the last two steps, the cutting and wrapping. You would either cut way too much paper or not enough to cover the gift. And when you finally did get an acceptable length the paper would fold every which way and the tape wouldn't hold it down.
Now, why not go with the simple fix of putting it inside of a gift bag? The short answer was that it was the lazy man's way out.
And this year you were determined to make it work. Your husband John always teased you about your passion for the holidays, but what could you say? You were a driven woman.
So you found yourself near the end of the day sitting inside the living room of your house. A diverse spread of gifts scattered around you beside poles of wrapping paper, tape, scissors, and rulers.
The soft thrum of Christmas music playing in the background for motivation. You were especially proud of the gifts you had gotten this year. One for each of your friends, close family, and John. Having a good gift for him was something to behold on its own. Gift shopping for the man was like pulling out teeth.
“Why would I want anything? I pretty much have everything I need…”
“I’m okay love, don't bother with me…”
“I don't want anything, maybe some socks or something…”
John's words echoed in your ear, but you weren't giving up that easily. This year, you landed on a nice silver watch with a leather band. The one he wore was…distressed to say the least.
So, this seemed like a great choice. You smiled down at the small box that held his new watch. John would love anything you got him, even if it was a scrap of metal he would give you his teddy bear smile and shower you with praise.
But this year you were particularly proud of your choice.
And with the newfound motivation you started on wrapping. You did your best to cut accurate ratios of paper to present, fold it as crisply as you could, and tape it down so it stuck. Somehow, by the grace of God, you found yourself getting into a sort of rhythm.
You looked at work after an hour in, in awe of the fact that it wasn't that bad. Actually, it was nearly perfect! These looked like real gifts, like the ones you'd see in those Christmas catalogs sitting under an 11-foot-tall tree.
You smiled, only one gift left to go. Lo and behold it was John’s gift. The small blue box that hid his watch, looked so menial. You sighed and stretched, easy peasy.
Or so you thought.
That little blue box might as well have been possessed by a Christmas-hating demon.
You huffed, silently cursing at yourself as you accidentally ripped the wrapping paper while you were trying to tape it down. This had been your fifth attempt at wrapping his gift, and every time something had gone wrong.
You stared down at it in disbelief, nearly in tears of frustration. There the box sat, laughing at your feeble attempts at wrapping it.
Just as you were about to go for attempt number six, you heard the chime of the front door opening. It was John.
Like a flash, you pushed the box under the couch until it was out of sight. It was a surprise after all. Just as you turned back around John appeared in all his glory. Slack jeans with his cotton t-shirt and his ruggedly handsome face. His eyebrows raised at the scene before him.
“Love, I think you're supposed to wrap the gifts, not get into a fight with them.” He said, bemused.
You felt your already hot cheeks redden, looking at the mess of wrapping paper around you. It did kind of look like a war scene with the addition of glitter and ribbon. Letting out an exasperated sigh you looked back up at him. “Would you believe me if I told you they started it?”
John's lips curved up into a soft smile that raised his mutton chops. And you couldn't help your heart from swooning at the way his mustache smiled with him. He chuckled and stepped into the room, crouching in front of you to slide a hand across your cheek. Pulling you in for a warm, chaste kiss. Your frustration slightly ebbed away, yet the lingering annoyance remained. John seemed to notice it and gave you a funny look as he pulled away.
“What's wrong?” He said knowing.
Curse him, he knew you too well. You knew giving him a bad lie wouldn't do much so you sighed. “It’s the gifts, I was doing so well wrapping everything but I got to yours and it didn't seem to want to cooperate with me. And well, you can see how it played out.” You breathed, nodding to the mess around you.
John raised an eyebrow, “why not just give it to me as is?” He asked, confused. To which you rolled your eyes as his practicality, typical.
“That’s not the point. Making presents look nice is a labor of love, it shows I care to make it look presentable.” You defended your point, making him shake his head and smile warmly. A fondness in his eyes as he looked at you.
“Baby, you know I know that you care about me. I don't need wrapping paper to prove that.” He said, his other hand guiding yours to his mouth to press his lips over your ring.
You pursed your lips in a tight line, trying not to let him melt your resolve into a sappy puddle. “Yeah, but it's still a nice gesture.” You grumbled, eyes darting away from his gaze.
You heard the familiar thrum of his laugh echo in your ears. You turned your eyes back to look at him as he pressed a kiss to your temple, “Thank you for trying love. You know I’d like anything you’d give me. But having you is all I need.” You couldn't help the smile that crept up on your cheeks.
For being such an intimidating person and having the reputation he did, he could really be a sap sometimes. Not that you'd have it any other way. His loving nature was a gift in itself.
You hummed and leaned in to kiss him again, his lips meeting yours in a soft embrace. Slowly you pulled him in, hands snaking around his neck to cup the back of his head. He tasted of tobacco and whiskey, not the bitter kind, but the warm fragrant kind. Almost like a spicy cocktail, one that burned at first sip but settled in your stomach.
It was almost second nature when you kissed him. Like your body craved the feeling of being fitted against his larger form. And when his tongue slid over your bottom lip, practically begging for entrance, you had no choice but to oblige.
The soft hum of Christmas jazz still lulled in the background, dulling your senses like sweet syrup. John’s tongue delved into your mouth, the slow rhythmic motion of his lips turning the thoughts in your head to static. His large hands slowly traveled down to your waist, his thumb pressing against the bone of your hip. Without warning his hands suddenly airlifted you up and onto the couch. You gave a small squeak of surprise, breaking the kiss.
“John wha-” You were cut off by another steaming kiss.
After a minute he pulled away, hot breath fanning against your lips. “You were working so hard, figured I'd give you a thank you.” His sly smile told you everything you needed to know. And if they didn’t, the way his hands slid down to grope on your ass did.
Your cheeks burned, and another type of heat bellowed in your stomach. Sending small sparks across your spine. “It's just wrapping a gift, and I didn't even finish yours.” You said sheepishly.
John rolled his eyes, his head dipping down to trail kisses over your neck. “What was it you said before? That it’s about the gesture or principle of it all?” He murmured, large hands kneading your behind. His words made your lips turn up into a smile. To be honest…you could use a break, and this opportunity was one you’d never turn down.
A small giggle escaped you, rolling your eyes at his persistence. “I guess I’ll take that ‘thank you’ then.”
Turning his head back up, he gave you a wolfish grin. The large hands that previously held your behind slid up to hook the hem of your top. With one fluid movement, he coaxed your arms above your head and slipped your blouse off. Then with just as much sneakiness, he undid the clasp of your bra. Tossing the offending garment somewhere else in the room.
Without a moment to lose, his mouth was on your breasts. You shuddered at his warm wet tongue and the way it danced around your nipple. The scruff of his facial hair tickles Your chest.
Your hands threaded into his hair, pulling and guiding him where you wanted. With every small tug or grasp he groaned, enthralled by the way you led him. From where you were sitting, John knelt at the edge of the couch between your spread legs. Hands gripping at your hips as he suckled at your peaks. “So beautiful baby-” He rasped, “-fucking love this gorgeous body.”
Your lips pushed into a tight line, exhaling through your nose. John’s hands migrated down to grab onto your pants, tugging them down slowly. You helped him slip them off until the only thing covering you was your cotton panties. An embarrassingly obvious wet patch now soaking through its fabric.
John’s thumb gently grazed over your clothed center. Earning a soft moan on your part, the pad of his finger sending a jolt of heat through you. His navy eyes flickered up to you as his thumb slowly circled your covered clit. “Tell me what you want sweetness.” He murmured.
You had trouble processing his words for a moment. “I want your fingers, John.” You breathed, looking down at the man on his knees for you.
The corner of his lip turned up, “Yes mam.” Slowly he pulled your panties to the side, exposing your glistening core. You saw his adams apple bob as he stared at you, like he wanted to devour you alive.
With his middle and ring finger, he dragged them through your lips. Coating the skin in a layer of slick, the lewd sound of it makes your ears turn red. “Look at this wet pussy, so needy.” John gruffed. With no warning, he gently pushed his middle inside you. Your walls constricted around him like a hungry snake.
Your lips fell open in an ‘oh shape, whimpering at the burning goodness of his finger. “Fuckfuckfuck-” You panted, the muscles in your legs flexing as you tensed.
With ease, he pushed his ring finger into you as well. Falling into a slow rhythm of pumping his fingers in and out of you coupled with his thumb brushing over your clit. Your brain felt foggy, like how a bathroom mirror fogs up when you take a hot shower. John watched you like a hawk, studying your every movement to see if you were enjoying it.
“John, need your cock now.” You panted breathlessly, impatient for your husband. He gave you an amused look, keeping his fingers at a steady pace.
“You sure?” He asked, bemused. “-I can wait sweetheart.” But you shook your head, desperate for the stretch of his dick.
You blinked and gave him a look, “I'm not asking.” You replied. Making him chuckle, his fingers sliding out of you and leaving an empty feeling in their wake. He stood up, tugging off his shirt and unzipping his trousers. All the while, you watched like it was your favorite TV show. Your eyes drank in his muscles, he was built for fighting, that was for sure.
His pants shrugged down as he pulled his briefs away with it. His large bulbous cock sprang free, the sight almost making you drool. John smiled at you as he wrapped a calloused hand around it, stroking. “Makin’ me feel special when you look at me like that.” He said, giving his dick a few more pumps of his hand.
He nodded at you, “Go ahead and lay back, I want to look at your face when I make you cum.” He said, the words ringing in your ears. You tried not the let the giddy smile show on your face as you nodded and fell back against the cushions. Hastily, he climbed up on the couch, caging you in with his body. Hands planted on either side of your head.
He gave you a knowing smile before using one hand to guide his cock against your slit. Slowly dragging it up and down, making your breath hitch. Fireworks already going off inside your brain.
He leaned back a tad, using his other free hand to stroke your thigh, patting it lightly. “Come on, raise these for me love, want them on my shoulders.” You did as you were told, hiking your legs up on his shoulders. His head was encased by the meat of your thighs and the tip of his cock pushed against your aching hole.
With John’s guidance, he slowly pushed into you. The entrance of his thick cock fills up every crevice in your walls, making you moan. He was right there with you, “bloody hell-” he grit out. His voice was strained and thick like syrup.
“Tell me-” He panted, “-Tell me I can move. Please.” He breathed, voice barely above a whisper. You swallowed, your body burned and ached, yet it felt so good at the same time. And you craved more of it. So much more.
You nodded, “Yes, please.” Per your request, John slowly started to move his hips. His hands are placed on either side of your head and your thighs are locked around his head. The further he pushed into you the more you felt like being folded in half.
Slowly, his cock dragged in and out of your walls only to plunge back in. You moaned and threw your head back into the cushions, a shivering running through you. Every time his thick tip pressed against the spongy bundle of nerves deep inside you, your walls tightened as if to hold him in.
“Fuck, that's it- so tight and wet, like this pussy was made for me.” John groaned, steadily increasing the speed and force of his thrusts. Every time he pushed himself back in you felt like seeing stars. The delicious pleasure of feeling his girthy dick drag against your walls and stuff you full was something you could never get used to. Every time it felt a new shade of amazing.
Soon, his thrusts had gone from slow and drawn out to fast-paced slaps of skin against skin. Your hands dragged against his back, leaving trails of red lines in their wake.
A familiar coil began to burn in your stomach, tightening by the minute. Your head was swimming as you let him mold you to the shape of his cock. “John- can’t hold it, I'm gonna cum soon.” You sputtered.
His response was to only increase the force of his thrusts. Snaking a hand down to your clit and rubbing his thumb in circles around the sensitive bud. You jolted, clamping down around him which in turn caused him to twitch and pulse. “S’okay love I know, I'm right there with you. Let me make you cum, cum on my cock.” He moaned.
The white-hot pleasure turned to burning magma as he played with your clit. Waves of euphoria crashing down on you like a violent tide. Your pussy spasmed and your body went taunt like a bow. John fucked you through it until his orgasm took hold of him. His cock twitched and his hips stuttered, flooding your walls with thick ropes of cum. After a few more forceful thrusts he let up, holding you still as you both came down from the high.
A few seconds later he slid out of you, carefully lowering your legs off his shoulders. “Merry Christmas love.” He breathed with a wolfish smile, a hint of humor in his voice. You hummed, blinking your eyes open just as he pressed a warm kiss to your temple.
A soft chuckle escaped you, still caught in the afterglow. Your hands gently carded through his slightly tousled hair, “Merry Christmas John.”
He smiled, raising his head to look around. Unsurprisingly the room was still a mess of wrapping paper and ribbon. “Guess it falls on me to clean this up eh?” He said knowingly.
You smiled back, “Yep.”
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧
Simon Ghost Riley Hurt-comfort
For most, Christmas time was a season of giving. It meant spending time with the ones you loved and putting the cheer back into the more depressing months of winter. It also meant engaging in bonding activities like ice skating or decorating the tree for Christmas, maybe even baking cookies.
For others, including Simon Riley, Christmas was a bitter reminder of what they lacked. It wasn't a cookie-cutter checklist for everyone, but the brunt of it was a lack of Christmas cheer, connection, or lack of loved ones to spend the holidays with. And for Simon, it was all three.
Out of every holiday, Christmas was a loathsome one. It felt as if everyone in the world was brimming with happiness while he was cast out into the dark. Like dangling a shiny new toy in a dog's face knowing that said toy would never be given to it.
So what did he do? What he does best. He closed himself off from the world. During the holiday season, Simon often felt more Ghost than he felt like Simon. After all, it was easier to disassociate and pretend he was Ghost again than to face the bitter memories that Simon went through.
But this year was different, why? Because this year he was spending Christmas with you.
It took a lot of convincing on your end, but he eventually settled for spending the week through Christmas at your flat. Which for him, was a big step. He had stayed over multiple times and vice versa, but considering he never spent Christmas with anyone was saying a lot.
It wasn't even until a year ago that Simon told you the whole story of why he disliked Christmas. By that time both of you had mutually understood that your relationship had shifted from casual dating to a more long-term and serious one.
So now you were determined to make this Christmas a good experience for him. Which turned out to be no easy task. But for your boyfriend, there wasn't anything you weren't willing to do.
It started with small festive activities like taking him to a park to see the Christmas lights. Or letting him pick out the shirt that he had been eyeing as an early gift. Your personal favorite had been getting him to help set up and decorate the small Christmas tree you kept in the living room.
Slowly but surely, he was beginning to assimilate with the Christmas spirit. You had even managed to get him to sit down and watch Home Alone!
Things were finally starting to look up…until now. Christmas Eve.
It was as if all the progress you had made vanished in an instant. Almost like he turned into a Ghost. He had barely said a word to you, didn't want to go out, wasn't eating, and was avoiding you. Simon was hauled up in your room and had been there for most of the day. The only time he had gone out was to smoke from your doorstep. Despite your comments about not liking his smoking or coming inside and eating he brushed it off with a grunt.
He had effectively barricaded himself in his mind. And you were sick of it, sick of the secrets, the going non-verbal with little to no explanation, and sick of the fact that he didn't trust you enough to tell you what was going on in his head.
Enough was enough, so you walked up to your bedroom door and knocked a few times. As expected there was no answer, so you pushed it open. Greeting you was Simon, sitting on the edge of your bed, looking down at his skull mask. You had only seen it a few times, not wanting to invade his privacy. Simon was a large proponent of keeping his work and personal life separate.
And why wouldn't he? His work was violent, it was the worst of what humanity had to offer. And you were none of those things. He mentioned to you once that his mask allowed him to be someone else, so that way when he did come back from deployments Simon wasn't the one with blood on his hands.
In other words, to your understanding, the mask was a mentality. A place holder that could do things that the Simon you knew couldn't.
You bit down on the inside of your cheek, carefully making your way over. You climbed up on the bed behind him, till you were knelt facing his large back. Gently you slid your hands around his waist, pressing the side of your face to his spine in a soft hug. You swallowed, an underlying nervousness boiling deep inside you.
“Please talk to me, I can't know how to help if you don't tell me.” You whispered into him, a soft plead.
He didn't respond for a good minute, and a part of you feared that he was just going to brush you off like before. Eventually, he did respond, except it wasn't the response you wanted. “I think I should go back to my place in Manchester. Just for a few days.”
You frowned, this wasn't what you wanted. Not at all. You had been making such good progress too, you didn't understand how it could all reverse in a second. “Simon that's not fair, you at least need to tell me why. You've been silent all day and now you want to leave? You promised you'd stay until Christmas was over.”
Simon turned a bit to look at you, shrugging your hands off of him. The warm look he always had when he looked at you now long gone. “I know what I said. But I told you that I don't spend the holidays with anyone, you knew that.”
Your hands bawled on your thighs, “But- just yesterday you were fine. I don't understand what changed.” You said eyebrows knitting together.
His eyes narrowed, “Then have you considered maybe I just don't want to be around you?” He said, his tone harsh and unforgiving. A knife to your heart. You stared at him in silence, shocked that he would say something like that so brazenly.
Your lips pursed into a thin line, trying to regain your composure. “If you don't want to be around me then tell me, don't ignore me for half the day like a child.” The hands that held his skull mask tightened, bunching up the fabric in his grip.
“Alright, I'm sorry. Happy now?” Simon couldn't have been less sincere even if he tried. Yet another stab to your chest.
You shook your head no, “Of course I'm not happy. You're not telling me anything, I’m trying to listen and understand you but you're just shutting me out. It's like you barely trust me at all.” You said sternly.
Simon pinched the bridge of his nose. You watched how his face scrunched in irritation, the bags under his eyes sticking out like a sore thumb. “I do trust you, but…I’m just not ready.” He said irritably.
Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Not ready? Not ready for what?”
“For you, for this-” Simon snapped, gesturing to the air around him. “-fucking caring about somebody. Because every time I have it’s ended up like shite, I don't even know if I can. Or if I ever will.” He said, his voice brimming with a flurry of emotions. Ones you couldn't decipher, but you were still hung up on the meaning of his words. You knelt there, a cold wave washing over you that felt like ice.
He went on, “You shouldn't even want what I am [Name]. I know you think you do but you don't.”
You shook your head, a lump developing in your throat. “Yes, I do-” You tried weakly, your limbs starting to numb up and grow cold.
Simon stood up, turning his back to you. Walking over to the large overnight bag he had packed, kneeling, and started to take clothes that were scattered near it and shove them inside. You felt your stomach drop, clambering off the bed to stop him. Grabbing onto his suitcase and ripping it away to keep it behind your back.
“Simon tell me what’s going on.” You demanded, your voice suddenly raw.
Simon's eyes were wide, the brown pools of warmth replaced by a dark abyss. Looking up at you with surprise and anger. He stood up, towering over you with his massive frame. Almost like an intimidation tactic. He looked scary.
Slowly he outstretched an open palm, deadly silent. “I'm not going to ask you again, give me my things.”
You shook your head, taking a few steps back until you were pressed against your closet door. Blinking away tears into the back of your head, “No. Tell me what’s going on.” Your hands holding his suitcase with an iron grip behind your back.
His eyebrows furrowed, jaw working in frustration. The veins in his neck tensed for a moment. Almost without thinking his outstretched hand seized forward to grasp your arm, yanking you away from the wall with an alarming force. The suitcase dropped on the floor as he tore you away and you stumbled forward.
You made a noise, one akin to the sound a small animal would make before it was eaten. His grip on your arm was hard by any means, but the minute you made eye contact with him again he broke off. His hand released you like he had been burned by a hot iron, terror written across his face.
He looked more horrified than you did, looking between you and his hand like it was somebody else’s. The silence between you was so loud it rang in your ears.
You felt something wet trail down your cheeks. When did you start crying? You didn't know. You looked back at your boyfriend, he had looked so big before but now he only looked scared. You raised your hands as if you were approaching a wild animal. “Simon-” You breathed, “-It’s okay. I'm okay, you didn't hurt me.”
He didn't say anything, basically frozen in time. You walked up to him, praying he didn't walk back. Thankfully, he didn't. Gently, you cupped his face, forcing him to look down at you. “Please.” You pleaded, “-Tell me whats going on. That's all I ask, if you still want to go after, you can.” You breathed hoarsely.
You watched his face, how it was so full of uncertainty and fear. His bottom lip quivered lightly, “I’m so sorry.” He said, “-I didn't mean…I wasn't thinking.”
You gently rubbed a thumb over his cheek, trying to soothe him to the best of your ability. “I know you didn't mean to, you're not your dad Simon. I'm not worried about that, what I am worried about is you just getting up and leaving because you decided that I don't matter to you anymore.” You said, trying to remain firm to the best of your ability. Even when your voice was quivering and you felt like sobbing.
Simon shook his head, “What? Of course, you matter to me.” He breathed, shaky hands still at his side.
“Well, that's not what it looks like from my perspective. You just said you wanted to leave, you said you didn't think you could ever fully care about me.” You said, looking up at him.
His eyes scanned your face, “I know I'm sorry- I'm… fuck love, I'm scared. I'm scared of caring about you as much as I do, whenever I do it just…” He swallowed, “My mom, and Tommy…they're gone and I can't get them back, and if you leave I have nothing. Because you took everything,” He breathed.
“-You already have me, every part of me that I wanted you to see and every part of me that I don't. And that scares the shite out of me, and I try to keep pushing and pushing but you keep coming back to me.” You felt his hands on your face, large calloused palms warm against your cheeks. “Because that's just how you are, you're good. And I thought by creating more distance you'd see that.”
You opened your mouth but he cut you off, “-And this week you worked so hard, just for me. To give me a good experience,” Simon laughed bitterly. “And here I am, barely keeping my shite together.”
You frowned, “Simon.” You cut him off, your voice stern. He stopped, looking at you. “You don't tell me what I can and can't do, nobody does but me. So if you think you have any chance of convincing me to leave you're mad. I want this, I want you. No matter what baggage you come with.”
There was a moment of silence, filled with a thick tension that you could cut with a knife before he pulled you in. Pressing your face against his chest, cradling your head against him. Holding you tight as if you'd disappear if he let go. Your hands wrapped around his back, digging into the cotton of his shirt and inhaling his scent. One of cigarette smoke and pine. His face pressed into the top of your head.
It was intimate, emotions running high, and the force of his embrace. For a while, you stayed that way, grounded by the large arms that held you to his chest. “I’m so sorry, I should've told you from the beginning.” He whispered into the top of your head, his voice that of genuine remorse.
You knew that this wasn't the end all be all of his problems. Just because he addressed things did not mean everything was magically solved. But it was a big step in the right direction. You maneuvered your head up to look at him, chin pressed against his chest.
“I told you that I wanted to make this a good Christmas, for both of us.” You said, “-If you'll let me, I think we can still make the most of it.”
Simon stared at you, his lips settling in a relieved smile. “Yeah.” He breathed, “I wouldn't have it any other way.”
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧
Kyle Gaz Garrick Fluff
Your room was a complete mess. Clothes were thrown about like a tornado had taken your closet and dispensed its content for everyone to see. But the state of your room was the last thing you could focus on. Because you had thirty minutes until your neighbor two doors down would pick you up for a date.
You felt your cheeks just redden at the thought. A date! Especially with your very hot and very out-of-your-league neighbor Kyle.
You groaned, tossing yet another shirt on your bed. Nothing seemed to fit as it should've, what was one even supposed to wear on a date? It was December so obviously crop tops and shorts were off-limits. You nervously chewed on your nails, cursing at yourself immediately after for forgetting they were painted.
As you slipped on something acceptable (a nice pair of jeans and a coat), you made a beeline for your bathroom. You looked in the mirror, taking a few minutes to look over your makeup for the umpteenth time. Then moving over to fix your hair, tweaking it here and there, and maybe smoothing out the few strays.
You didn't even understand how you got into this predicament, it was all a blur. Kyle had just gotten back from deployment, a normal occurrence, and being the good neighbor you were, you brought him food. (Who wants to cook after they just get home from a long trip anyway?) And being the gentleman he was, he invited you inside. However, due to your inability to act normally around hot men, you panicked and refused.
Swearing up and down that he was probably exhausted and didn't need you to disturb his peace and quiet. You cringed just imaging how red your face must've been.
Instead of taking the hint like a normal person, he doubled down.
“Oh, okay then, why don't you let me take you out sometime as a thank you?”
After that, you were too stunned to say anything so you just shut up and nodded your head. And now you're here, standing in front of the mirror fretting over your appearance like a teenage girl.
You had zero idea where he was taking you. Which, in theory, was cute. But you were so anxiety-ridden that you couldn't find the time to look into it. And just as you were clumsily slipping on your shoes you heard the dreaded knock on your front door. You whirled through your apartment, opening the door with a little (a lot) too much force.
Standing there like a male supermodel was Kyle. Clad in worn-out jeans that he somehow pulled off, a flannel, and a jacket. He smiled, his perfect teeth adding to his handsome charm. “Hey,” He said, looking at you up and down. “-You look great as always.”
You wanted to die, just looking at him was like staring at a beacon of light. But for the sake of your social skills, you forced yourself to respond. “Thanks-” You breathed, trying to smile as normally as you could. “-Uhm you look great too.”
Kyle smiled, the dimples in his cheeks growing more prominent. “Thanks, I appreciate it, love.” He said, looking behind you and then back to you. “-I’m ready when you are, but take your time. We’re not in a rush.” He said casually, hands in his jean pockets.
You nodded, “Oh right- let me just grab my purse.” You breathed, doing a 360 to run back to your kitchen counter and swipe your bag from off the surface. Quickly making a run back towards him, stepping outside “Ready!” You said, trying to work up as much confidence as you could. To which Kyle chuckled, reaching behind you to close the door.
After the initial stress of stepping out the door, Kyle led you out of the complex. To which the subtle awkwardness faded into a comfortable conversation. It was easier with him than with most, it had always been. You'd always had an underlying crush on him but you never actually thought it'd go anywhere. You were more comfortable just looking and making friendly small talk than actively perusing.
After a few minutes of conversation and walking about the town he stopped a few feet away from a large tent. Christmas lights strone about and small lines of people waiting to get inside. And it instantly clicked what he was taking you to do.
“Ice skating?” You asked.
Kyle gave you a boyish grin back, “Yep.” He said confidently, “-thought it matched the Christmas spirit.”
You laughed, to be honest, you hadn't stepped onto an ice rink in a while. You'd never been terrible at it but you weren't exactly a pro either. He gently nudged you with his shoulder, “Scared?” He asked you.
Shaking your head, you smiled back. “You wish Garrick. I think I can hold my own on an ice rink.” You bantered.
Kyle’s shoulders hiccuped as he chuckled, “Alright then. Let’s get in line.” He said leading you over to one of the lines of people. It wasn't a terribly long wait, maybe twenty or fifteen minutes before you made it to the front. And of course, he insisted on paying for your skates even though he had been the one to buy the tickets.
You continued to talk as the both of you laced up your skates. But when it came time to actually get on the ice you found yourself apprehensive. Kyle had already gotten on with ease and was now waiting for you at the small gate entrance.
“Need any help there?” He asked, amused. To which you shook your head, determined to prove to him that you could do it on your own.
“All good.” You breathed, holding onto the gate as you stepped on the ice. “-just uhm, getting my footing.” For some reason, under his gaze, you felt your whole body begin to malfunction. Like you were getting performance anxiety.
You sheepishly let go of the gate, standing statue still. And Kyle simply stood there, an amused smile played across his lips. Arms crossed in front of his broad chest. You swallowed, taking a shaky step forward. And because your life seemed to be one large cosmic joke, you felt your skate slide out and you fell forward.
You tried to put your arms out to catch yourself, shutting your eyes tight with a small squeak before you felt something take hold of you. You blinked as you realized that your face didn't collide with the hard surface of ice but with something else.
Kyle’s arms had caught you just in time, your face pressed up against his warm chest. Large arms encircling your waist, you heard him whistle. A red blush crosses your cheeks from embarrassment. “Careful there, thought you said you could hold your own?”
You were mortified, you had practically thrown yourself at him! (not intentionally of course, but still)
He helped you stand back straight as well as fix your coat. You swore you could almost feel steam coming out from your ears. “I’m sorry, that was an accident I swear.” You babbled. He didn't seem to mind, however, simply holding his hands up and giving you a soft look.
“Hey, it's okay love, I know. Happens to the best of us.” He reassured. Once again you tried to brush off the pet name so as not to implode. Kyle held his arm out to you, “-Why don't you hang on to me for the first couple of laps yeah? Just to be safe.”
You looked between him and his outstretched arm. “I-uh yeah. Sure, sounds good.” You said, taking hold of his arm for more support. He flashed you a smile before slowly skating forward. You tried your best to keep up, and with his support you did.
The two of you did loops around the skating rink, people-watching, talking, and laughing. The thing was, your arm still held his, even after the first couple of loops, he made no effort to detach from you. And neither did you, but that was neither here nor there. You actually learned a lot about him, about his family, his interests, and even a little about his work. Which in his words was “Nothing that you should ever have to hear about.”
You managed to open up to him as well, sharing more of your life with him. Eventually, your time at the rink ran out. But the conversations between you and Kyle still kept up. By the time you were walking back to your complex with him, his hand had managed to sneak its way into yours. Some part of you was still in disbelief that it was even happening, however.
You swallowed, glancing at him from the corner of your eye as he walked shoulder-to-shoulder with you. “Thanks, by the way. It was really nice of you to take me out like this. But you really didn't need to, it was just a meal. A thank you would've sufficed.” You commented.
Kyle glanced back at you, raising and eyebrow. “You think I asked you out just cause you cooked me dinner?” He said, making you stop.
You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “…yes? What other reason would there be?” You asked, utterly lost.
At that, Kyle fully turned to face you. Staring at you for a few seconds, his face trying to deduce if you were joking or not. When he realized you weren't kidding, his face broke into a smile. “[Name], I've been trying to ask you out for weeks.”
You blinked, his words only confusing you more. “What? No, I would've picked up on it.” You said.
He chuckled and shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes actually, multiple times,” Kyle said. Looking at you with an expectant gaze.
You tried to dive back into all of your memories with him, searching for a time that would've counted as him asking you out. But, you came out empty-handed. “Give me an example then.” You said, brow furrowed.
Kyle raised his eyebrows, “What about the other day when I invited you inside to eat dinner with me after you brought me food?”
“Well, that doesn't really count. That's just something people say to be polite. How was I supposed to know?” You challenged.
He continued, “…Or about that time I told you I had an extra ticket to a football game if you wanted to go?”
You felt your cheeks get a bit rosy. That one did sound a bit more like asking you out when you thought about it. “I- I was under the impression that you were just giving me a ticket. I didn't realize you meant together,” You flushed.
Kyle kept going. “And that time I caught you coming back from a bad date and I said I could show you a better one?”
Okay yeah, you were seeing it now. You bit down on your cheek, trying to stop yourself from melting into a puddle. “I thought you were just being nice.” You said lamely. You saw his mouth open to respond, but you held your hands in front of his face. “Okay, but yes, I get it! I realize now that there might have been some signs.”
You heard him chuckle, he gently lowered your hands. You sighed, feeling your cheeks burn red from embarrassment. How could you be so clueless!? “I'm sorry for not noticing that you were trying to ask me out.” You murmured, trying your best to avoid his eyes.
You then felt his warm hand slide over your jaw, cupping the side of your face to raise it. Your eyes met his, mirth swimming inside his dark brown irises. “It's okay love, you're worth the wait.”
You felt your face burn, realizing the significance of what was happening. His eyes darting between your lips, the way he held your face, the utter cheesiness of it all. And God you were eating it up like your own personal rom-com. But to your dismay, nothing was happening! Like you two were frozen in time. Kyle had been the one to ask you out, to make the first moves, so maybe it was only fair you did this small thing.
Throwing your timidness out the window, you leaned forward. Shutting your eyes and locking lips with him. It only took a moment for Kyle to press back against you, tilting his head and sliding his hand over your cheek to cup the back of your head. It was pure bliss.
You stayed like that for as long as you could, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of his lips. Yet all good things end as you still need oxygen, so you did eventually have to pull away.
Your eyes were wide as you stared at him, face flushed. He looked a little better, but it was cute the way he looked post-kiss. Kyle’s lip turned into a boyish grin, “Does this mean I get another date?”
You couldn't help but laugh, “I guess so.”
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧
Jhonny Soap McTavish Smut
Curse your boss for putting you on the late-night Christmas shift. What kind of fucker does that? A greedy one, you supposed. It wasn't like you didn't have plans, not with family, no, but with friends.
But no. He just had to schedule you for Christmas night.
Bartending for a group of sad, lonely, old men wasn't what you had in mind when you thought of Christmas. And even though you tried to get out of it, (bribing every co-worker and staff member you could and asking them if they would cover your shift) you still ended up behind the counter.
You grimaced, dish rag in hand as you cleaned the sticky countertop. It was pretty dead, but not enough that you were free for time. A few regulars sitting at the bar, and others were scattered about the place. Some talking or watching the different channels projected on the TV. Overall, it was a quiet evening. Though some part of you felt a little bad for wanting everyone to leave, after all, some people here didn't have families or friends to go home to.
You heard the doorbell chime as somebody walked inside. You didn't bother looking up, more concerned about the patch of mystery substance that wasn't going away. You furrowed a brow, working your muscles to press into the surface and scrub.
Heavy boots creaked across the wood, getting closer with each moment. Yet you still hadn't made any progress on the counter. With a heavy sigh, you rolled your eyes and looked up. A frown that could scare off any customer played across your lips.
“Jesus, Bonnie, Christmas shift that bad aye? Y’look like you're about to kill me right where I stand.”
You halted. Standing before you was Johnny McTavish, or Soap, as his other friends christened him. (don't ask, you didn't know why either) He was a part of the semi-regular military group that came in a few times a month. There was a large base a few miles away, so it wasn't abnormal to get your fair share of soldiers now and again. However, what was abnormal was the fact that he was here alone.
Normally, Johnny came in with three other guys. Gaz, another more gruff man who they referred to as ‘Cap,’ and a big scary-looking bloke who always wore a balaclava.
You stared at him for a good few seconds.“I uh, sorry you caught me off guard there.” You breathed. “-And no, it’s not bad in here, just prefer not to be working on Christmas night.”
Johnny hummed, walking up the the counter and pulling out a stool right in front of you. His large arms settled against the wood, “Too bad. Bossman put you on the shift, did he?” He asked, apparently very amused by your grim attitude.
You rolled your eyes, throwing the rag under the counter. “Yeah, I even tried to bribe everyone to cover my shift but nobody would take it.”
He smiled, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Well then maybe this was fate.” He joked, “-Anyway, since it is Christmas, would you mind pouring me a glass? Y’know, as a present?” He said, grinning at you.
You felt your heart stutter a little.
Oh yeah, the other thing about Johnny was that you may or may not have the biggest crush known to man on him. It wasn't even your fault, he charmed his stupid way into your heart. With his ridiculous mohawk, (which wasn't even really a mohawk) pretty blue eyes, and his huge biceps. Very annoying. Not even to mention his rough voice with that thick Scottish accent.
To say you had the hots for him was a giant understatement.
You breathed out a laugh, “Alright, coming up.” You turned around to grab the bottle of vodka, fixing together a Cape Codder. Then sliding the glass over to him. He gave you a funny look, concussion written across his face.
“This isn't my usual.” He pointed out, still taking the drink nonetheless.
You flashed him a smile, winking. “Merry Christmas doll face.” You said sarcastically. To which he simply took a sip. You eyed him as he did, “Where are the rest of the guys?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
Johnny cleared his throat, setting the glass down and leaning forward. “Gaz and Price are back at base, everyone had drinks earlier and they wouldn't make it. Ghost’s not the biggest fan of Christmas so he didn't want to go out either.” He said casually.
You nodded, “If you had drinks earlier than why are you back here?” You asked.
Soap smiled, his jaw working in a way that made you swallow. “Never said I did, the others drank, but I held off until now. Thought I'd be better if I got shit-faced here where you could see it.”
You laughed, leaning against the back counter. Your arms crossed over your chest. “And you were just betting on me working tonight?”
Jhonny shrugged, taking another sip. “I had an inkling.”
You breathed out another small chuckle, walking back over to grab the towel you'd thrown before. “Y’know, I'm only giving you a free drink because it’s Christmas. Can't pull that trick on anybody else, so be grateful you got me.”
He nodded, licking his lips. His eyes followed you as you walked around. “Trust me Bonnie I am, not every day I get you all to myself.”
Your train of thought stuttered a bit, Jhonny was a flirt, yes. But for some reason, it felt different. His tone had changed, and the way his eyes were tracking your every move felt more real. You glanced back at him as you scrubbed the countertop. “Who says that all my attention is on you?” You quipped with a smile.
Jhonny grinned, shaking the ice in his glass. “You know what I mean.” He set in drink back down on the table. “But for the record, I don't see you givin’ any attention to the other blokes here.”
You shot him a look, trying to hold in your laugh. “Unfortunately, half of the people here are either probably married or well above the appropriate age bracket.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Too bad, here I was thinking I’m getting special treatment. Better think of a way to get on your good side, I suppose.”
You cocked an eyebrow at him, intrigued at the sentiment. “Yeah? What did you have in mind?” You asked.
“Depends.” He said, staring at you with way more intensity than you were prepared for. “-What do ya’ want Bonnie?”
You stared back, at a loss for words. There were many things you wanted, or more specifically, things you wanted him to do to you. Your throat suddenly went dry, your train of thought ruined by a barrage of filthy images flashing in your mind. It wasn't until another minute went by that you remembered you were supposed to be responding to his question.
You cleared your throat, “I uh- a solid cash tip would be nice. Or maybe you could cover my shift.” You joked, trying to play the silence off.
“S’not what it looks like to me.” He stated, throwing his head back as he downed the last of his drink.
You halted again, caught off guard. Furrowing your brow in confusion, “Excuse me?” You asked.
He put the drink back down on the table, leaning forward on his arms. His signature impish smile on his stupidly pretty lips. “That's not what it looks like to me.” He repeated, enunciating each word. “Nobody looks at somebody like you just did to me, then makes a joke about covering a shift.”
You felt your heart speed up, so he had noticed your stare? You forced a frown, keeping a skeptical face. Placing a hand on your hip, “I wasn't looking at you like anything.”
“Oh yes, you most definitely were Bonnie.” Fuck that stupid nickname he always called you. It only weakened your resolve.
You rolled your eyes, “And how exactly was I looking at you?” You said, frowning at him.
Johnny’s smile twitched up a little, something akin to hunger flashing in his eyes. “Like you wanted to shag me.” He spoke casually. “-Can’t say I'm not guilty of’tha either though. The drinks here aren't the only reason I'm always stoppin’ by.”
If your face wasn't red before, it definitely was now. You looked around as if somebody was listening in on the conversation. You looked back at him, wide-eyed and flushed. “I-what? I wasn't-” You cut yourself off from stumbling over another word. “You…want to fuck me?” You said slowly, skepticism leaking through your tone.
Without a beat, he nodded. “Yes.”
You stood statue still, absolutely floored by his lack of filter. For a few moments, you didn't know what to say. What could you say? ‘Yeah, I do too now let's have sex right now.’ Yeah right.
…
Well maybe.
You looked around again, there was barely anyone in the bar. They probably wouldn't notice if you disappeared for twenty minutes, right?
You looked back at Johnny, “Meet me behind that door one minute after I go inside.” Without another word, you turned on your heel and marched your ass into the back room behind the drink display. The heavy door shutting with a thump behind you.
You blinked, holy shit. You had just told Johnny to meet you in the back room. What the hell were you doing?!
Just before you started panicking, the door swung open and Johnny marched straight in. “What the hell? I thought I told you a minute later.” You whisper shouted at him.
He chuckled, “Sorry, but I don't think waltzing in here a minute after you would make what we're about to do any less obvious. It was a nice thought, though.” He said, almost patronizingly.
Suddenly, his strides had backed you against one of the back walls that were lined with cardboard boxes. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, “You're such a-” You cut yourself off, sighing heavily. “For the record, I'm only doing this because I'm pissed off about working and I need something to fill the time.” a lie.
Johnny’s large hands slid against your waist, holding you there. “Sure, Bonnie, whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Just as you opened your mouth to argue back his head dipped down to capture your lips. You let out a surprised noise but quickly adapted, your hands snaking around his head and pulling him closer. He groaned into you, pushing his hips against yours as his tongue slipped into your mouth.
The kiss was needy, desperate even. Like he wanted to consume you whole. Every moment seemed to heat the tension between you as he slowly ground himself into you, letting you feel the hardening tent between his legs.
He gently nipped at your lip, causing you to gasp. His large hands made quick work of your top by sliding it over your head. As soon as he saw you in your bra, he groaned, “Fuck, this is what I've been thinkin’ bout’ for the past few months.” Without another word, he reached behind you to unclasp your bra. Groping and pawing at your chest like a cat.
You tried your best to keep your sighs and moans down. “You've been thinking about me?” You breathed.
“Every day Bonnie.” He said, kissing a trail up your neck. Red hickeys blossoming in his wake that would undoubtedly remain for the next few hours. But you couldn't find it in you to care, at least not in this moment.
Without warning his kisses began to drop until he slid down between your legs. Kneeling before you like he was ready to worship the ground you stood on. You looked down at him, surprise in your gaze. However, he paid you no mind as he undid your pants. Pulling them down your legs until they pooled at your ankles.
You swallowed, “Johnny you don't have to-”
“I want to.” He cut you off. His breath fanning against the material of your panties, blue eyes staring up at you with haze. His hands gently pulled down the elastic of your underwear until you stood bared to him. “-Fuck, you gorgeous thing.” He breathed, in awe of you.
His mouth was on you at a moment's notice. His hot tongue licking circles around your clit. Your hands immediately went to grab at his hair. Curling around the short locks of brown hair, your other hand slapped over your mouth. Muffling the puffs of air and moans falling from your lips.
It was almost like he was enjoying it more than you were because the way he ate you out was akin to a starving man desperate for water. Johnny moaned into you as he sucked and licked at you, hands holding your hips, keeping you in place.
You panted, absolutely lost for words as he delved into you. You'd never had any man desperate to taste you, so this took the cake. And the way his stubble scratched into your skin made you dizzy. This man had ruined you for anybody else in a few short minutes with his tongue alone.
“Jeez, Johnny- you're gonna make me cum if you keep going like that.” You panted out through your moans.
He detached for a second, looking at you. His cheeks flushed red, his eyes glazed over, and his mouth slick with your juices. “Good,” He panted. “Means I'm doing my job right.”
Before you could say any more he went right back at it, flicking his tongue over your clit. Your hands squeezed his hair tighter, pushing him further. Johnny moaned, letting you guide his face for your pleasure. One of his hands slid away from your thigh to your pussy, pressing a finger into your hole.
You let another moan slip, not being able to hide it as his thick digit pushed into your walls. It was too much, the pressure of his finger curling inside you as his tongue worked against your clit.
“Holy shit- m’gonna cum. M’gonna cum.” You panted, voice going up an octave as your body tightened. A burning heat sending shocks through your spine.
Johnny groaned in response, working his finger faster inside you. You threw your head back with a silent cry, legs shaking as you came. Heat burning down your body and lighting fireworks inside your stomach.
After a few more seconds, he slid his finger out of you, leaning back on his knees. His breath was almost as heavy as yours. Your mind was still hazy but somehow you found it in you to look down at him, gently carding a hand through his hair. “Fuck, McTavish, you surprised me.”
He grinned back at you, practically pussy drunk. “Yeah? Does that mean I get another free drink?” He asked, amused.
You smiled, helping him to his feet. “I’ll do you one better.” You murmured, feeling the fog of your orgasm slowly fade a little.
He raised an eyebrow, his mouth opening in question as you switched your position. Now in front of him and sliding down to your knees, eye to eye with his bulge. Your hands palmed over him, making his head tilt back with a soft groan. “Fuck- [Name], eating you out like that already did a number on me.” He panted, “M’not gonna last long if you do anything to me.”
You smiled, gently unzipping his pants and pulling apart the fabric. Jeez, he was practically tearing a hole straight through his boxers. “I can live with that.” You said teasingly, sliding down his briefs to let his dick spring free.
Your eyes drank him in, pleasantly surprised to find out, yes, he was big. You gently took hold of him, his cock sticky and beading with milky precum. His head fell back against the wall. “You really know how to make a guy feel special, don't you?” He half laughed, half moaned.
You hummed in acknowledgment, licking a stripe up his cock. Then swirl your tongue over the reddish tip, lapping up the fluid like syrup. His dick twitched, making you smile. Slowly, you took the head of him into your mouth, inching your way down.
Johnny cursed, his hand reaching down to grab your hair. Holding you as you slid down his dick, your throat wrapped around him. “Bonnie, I told you I wasn't gonna last long.” He moaned, his breath heavy and hard.
You moaned in response, bobbing your head up and down his cock. Letting the tip hit the back of your throat. Your eyes locked on his face scrunched up in pleasure as you sucked him off.
Soon, he was practically whimpering at nothing. His hands held your hair with a vice grip as you bobbed up and down on his dick. “Fuckfuckfuck- that's it, keep going. You're so gorgeous, just taking my cock like that.”
You moaned, feeling his cock twitch again in your mouth. With another curse, he came down your throat, painting your mouth a milky white.
Slowly, you detached from his softening dick. Swallowing the fluid, it was salty, kind of earthy too. Not bad though, thank goodness. Johnny stared at you, looking wrecked. You probably didn't fair that much better.
“Was that better than a free drink?” You chuckled, wobbly standing up.
Johnny laughed, nodding. “Way better than a free drink.”
There was a moment of silence before he spoke up again.
“…so, you free after your shift?”
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧
Merry Christmas or Happy holidays!
Or if it is the day after Christmas then happy late Christmas. Anyway, just a collection of a few one-shots for the festive season :)
This isn't my usual content, it’s normally more long-form stories but I hope it was okay!
Not too much to say other than thank you for reading and all your support, I love each and every one of you.
And don't forget to like or repost, maybe even leave a comment if you so choose. Toodles!
( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧
#christmas#call of duty#cod mw2#fictional men#military#smut#cod smut#fandom#fanfic#ghost call of duty#ghost x reader#captain price x reader#john price x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#johnny mctavish x reader#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#enemies to lovers#fluff#cod fic#cod fanfic#ghost smut#price smut#soap smut#gaz smut#oneshot#holidays
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I think it's also important to note what it means that this is so prevalent in online venues where it's impossible to verify who people are and almost disappears completely in meat space:
This is almost certainly the result of sockpuppet campaigns by TERFs and other strains of fascists trying to insert wedges and split the queer community against itself.
It's the same thing they tried to do against the asexual spectrum folks (of which I am one, demi to be specific). It's the same thing they tried to do against bisexuals and other multispectrum folks (of which I am one). It's the same thing they tried to do against transgender folks (of which I am one) from the rest of the queer community.
And it's what they are doing now by trying to split intersex and trans from each other as well as trans masc and trans femme from each other, trans women from nonbinary from trans men.
They are trying to split the larger queer community which is strong and large and can get real progress made... Into a bunch of warring factions which can't effectively defend themselves. That's also why they are trying to inspire queer people to reject the umbrella term of queer, the most effective collective activist label we've ever had, the term we matched with on banners as a proud community to fight for lives stricken by AIDs and apathy, which we marched with on banners to protest our lack of rights and the criminalization of our love and the criminalization of every kind of sex which isn't that of straight cis perisex people.
Please don't believe there is any kind of widespread rejection within the queer community of any of the categories I mention above. In physical queer communities there may be pockets of such among the terminally online who are reacting to things said online about their groups, but... It is not widespread.
My in-person queer communities are the most life-giving parts of my existence. They are where I see love and solidarity and activism and mutual aid on a scale I see nowhere else.
Don't cut yourself of from all of that because of what you see in online spaces where TERFs have proudly bragged about how effective their sockpuppet campaigns are. Don't help them isolate you. Please.
My own immediate friend group includes half a dozen nonbinary folks at this point: I helped two of them move house recently and one other move some months back. One of my transmasc friends (they/them) who is the strongest person I've ever met comes over and opens jars for me and my wife when we are unable to open them, and I help them with trimming the trees in their backyard because I'm taller than they are. I have a weekly craft night which includes three non binary folks, three transfemmes, two transmascs, a sapphic bisexual cis woman, and a bisexual cis man (and a partridge in a pear tree, sorry, couldn't resist). Several of us are somewhere on the ace spectrum. We arrange labour trading, body doubling, transportation, one time I drove a bicycle an hour from one of my queer friends to another because the former is no longer in a situation where they can commute by bike and was happy to donate their old bike and the other needed a bike to commute (not that transporting the bike was a hardship for me, I was meeting up with both of them anyway, the only difficult thing was figuring out how to put the bike rack on my car).
The point being: we have historically had each other's backs and we still do when it comes to in-person queer communities. Just please, go offline and beyond the bars and the clubs and form friend groups, find or form activist groups, find queer coffee shops and books stores, find your queer elders in your communities.
Please, don't let yourself be isolated and cut off from the lovely support and community which is yours to contribute to and benefit from as queer people. And also, there will be people who tell you that only people with your label will understand you and will stick by you. It's not true. If I had cut myself off from everybody who isn't a trans woman, everyone who isn't demisexual or bisexual or or or... I would be so much the poorer for it in my friends and my community.
Take care out there my queer family:
We may not know each other, but I wish the best for you 💜
I’ve been feeling really sad lately bc after this latest rise in anti transmasc sentiment I’ve had to unfollow some trans women I’ve been following for literal years bc they started reblogging and posting really nasty and very uncharitable things abt transmascs on my feed. And like. These are women whose voices I very much respected and listened to, and to hear them basically say they consider me an enemy who can’t be trusted bc I want to talk about my experiences, but all of our issues are really just splash damage from bigotry directed at them and talking abt my own experiences without acknowlefing that it’s not really meant for me is wrong. It’s like. So hurtful. And it makes me feel really hopeless about the future of the trans community.
How do I fight back against that hopelessness?
it really sucks and i'm sorry you're also being affected by this. i hear people talk about this every single day and i really don't like that this is just becoming a default in the trans community in general. it seems like the default mode of most online queers is hating transmascs and trans men as if that will somehow make cishet society accept them more. it's selfish behavior.
i'm an intersex trans woman and it's hard for me to interact with the online transfem and trans woman communities, because we're seeing a new experience in the form of transradfeminism, where trans women proudly adopt the anti-man ideals from rad feminism and spread it like it's the truth. it's a sad and painful thing to say, but these trans women are doing this because they believe rad fems and women who hate men are the only "Real" women and desperately want to be seen as "real" women. it stems from their personal dysphoria rooted in manhood, how they take out their own dysphoria in being seen as men on men and mascs. it comes from a place of pain, and it is misguided. instead of directing their hatred toward transmisogyny, they keep it inside the community. it's vile.
it's really sad but trans women and transfems are not immune to being indoctrinated by rad fems and terfs. applying those ideals to being trans isn't progressive. dictating who is and isn't trans is an act of policing. feeling as though one has the right to sit there and claim to know every trans experience, claiming to be the authority on transness... it's fascism.
i'm just plain tired of hearing people make fun of afab trans people and trans men and to talk about them like they're a blight on the community. im tired of people saying things like "do we really need more men?" i'm really sick and tired of chronically online people saying that trans men "aren't real trans people". this one really pisses me off. implying that trans womanhood and transfemininity are the only "real" ways to be trans is also identity policing. what is "unreal" about trans men? i'm tired of trans men being treated like they're unreliable. i'm tired of people wearing their misogyny on their sleeve to constantly treat trans men like they are not reliable narrators. i'm tired of people thinking somehow the instant you begin identifying as a man, you benefit from patriarchy.
i'm tired that people seriously think trans men and mascs can't coin terms for their own experiences. why the hell not? they happen, just because you don't see them personally doesn't mean they don't happen. i have met and lived with so many transmascs over the years, and we've all shared very similar stories about the discrimination we face. it's not spitting in the face of anyone to coin terms like transandrophobia and antimasculism. they happen just as often as transmisogyny does, and happily participating in it only increases trans violence
these talking points are old and it sucks to see more and more trans women get indoctrinated into literal rad feminism. hating trans men will not make dysphoria around being seen as a man go away. hating trans men does not dismantle the patriarchy. hating afab people isn't progressive, it's misogynistic. hating intersex trans men isn't progressive, it's transphobic -and- intersexist. trans men deserve so much better than this. trans men are trans. trans men are people. trans men are not evil by virtue of existing
i say try to do your best to connect with and appreciate the other trans men and mascs in your life. we have to stick together. if you have transfem friends who are on your side, make sure to be there for them, too. not every trans woman is like this fortunately, most trans women are very chill about trans manhood. this is a vocal minority of people who want to be fascists and want to control and police other trans people. transradfeminism isn't progressive, it's just as bad as regular rad feminism, if not worse, because now there's an even bigger focus on hating trans people.
hating other trans people will never get you ahead in cisheteronormative society. try to take care of yourself as best as you can. really relish trans joy when you experience it. take time to affirm your gender. know that manhood is a blessing. manhood is beautiful. it is varied, nuanced, and complex. it is a wonderful thing to experience. men are not evil. men are not bad. we should never remove the accountability from individuals.
hating trans men makes you transphobic. there's just no other way to it. whether or not you accept that it's called transandrophobia, it is still transphobia, and you really should care. the trans community isn't here for just 1 type of trans person. it's here for all of us. good luck, stay safe out there. be good to yourself
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Tutoring caitlin in college
word count : 552
warnings : nothing but fluff
summary : caitlin was always a trouble maker.
“well maybe you would want to go out to eat after this?” the brunette clearly off task as you tried to help with her incomes graph for her upcoming managerial counting test as you tried to expressed how important it was for her to pass.
“Why would I do that, Caity?” teasing her as you run the backs of your fingers you and down her thigh painfully slow for a ‘tutoring’ session. you and caitlin both worshiped each session looking forward to the next one as it was every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
“because i would give you a night to remember” challenging you refusing to take no for an answer places her hand over yours making your fingers stop on her upper thigh. you enjoyed every second of your tutoring sessions, even though most of the time it was caitlin doing anything she could to get your attention.
“is that right? Why don't you get focused on the graph?” you inch closer and closer to her face as you see your little freshman get flustered by your presence. begging for your affection she leans in almost connecting your faces together before you teasingly pull away leaving her stumbling over her own movements.
“Can I take you on a date?” already ignoring your command, she is again trying to change the subject from her managerial counting homework. caitlin conned you into helping her about two months ago when she said she would help you by working at your small business downtown. she didn’t want paid or any reward, she just wanting your attention and tutoring.
“I'll give you ONE date if you're right, Caitlin. Now, please focus on your homework. That's the reason I'm even here,” challenging her as you accepted your defeat playing into the young ones games. you figure to give her an easy question as you secretly wouldn’t mind a date with her. but i mean who would.
“okay, ask away” the confident but insecure smile that came from her face along with her rosie blush filled cheeks made your heart melt for her. you couldn’t believe that this basketball star was practically puddy in your hands as she is head over heels for you.
“what is y=mx+b?” caitlins quickly shushes answer was about to be said before the librarian cut her off telling you both to be quiet or to leave if you kept causing disruptions.
“Mx is the slope, and the b is the y-intercept,” her slow answer, she hesitated on, was right, accepting your defeat. You removed your eyes from her, blushing, and she realized her answer was correct when you run your fingers through your hair.
“So dinner tonight. 6 pm sharp, I'll handle everything and pick you up.” Her giggles followed behind as she placed a kiss on your cheek picking up her study books heading out through the library doors not forgetting to tell you how excited she is for tonight.
“if you to want to gossip then you can go outside and do it” the librarian gave caitlin her second warning only for caitlin to slam the doors causing a scene as everybody stared at the interaction making you laugh at her antics. as well as making you realize that you actually have to start getting ready for tonight.
#lesbian#lgbtq#wnba#caitlin clark#caitlins going through it#i love caitlin clark#caitlin clark fanfic#caitlin clark series#caitlin clark fluff#caitlin clark x reader#caitlin fluff#caitlin x reader#caitlin clark fic#wnba series#wnba imagine#wnba masterlist#wnba x reader#wlw fluff#wlw
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Been thinking about dirtbag! Danny around the holidays. If y'all went to see your family at say a party or something, would he be the perfect little saint? Or would he be his normal self? And when you two "accidentally" get caught under the mistletoe, would he hold back, or would he ravage you right there in front of everyone?
I'm having so many thoughts
-🐍
— why would you choose dirtbag!danny as a plus one to your family’s Christmas party? Well, you thought he was the best, safest option compared to a random date you didn’t know well, he’s the closest thing to a boyfriend without the label after all. 18+ content below
Daniel was supposed to be your safest option, the perfect fake boyfriend to bring home for the holidays. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges, but he was charming when he wanted to be—a people-pleaser with a quick wit and a dazzling smile. Your family wouldn’t question him, and you figured he’d play along without a hitch.
But you’d made one fatal miscalculation: Daniel was a menace, a dirtbag to his core.
As far as your family knew, he was perfect—polite, helpful, even borderline sweet as he laughed at your dad’s bad jokes, helped your mom carry in trays of cookies, and even complimented your aunt’s questionable fruitcake.
But the moment he was out of their line of sight, his true colours shone through.
“You look so sweet when you pretend to behave,” he murmured, leaning in under the guise of whispering something festive. His lips brushed the shell of your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Makes me wanna bend you over the dining table and see how fast I can ruin that innocent little act.”
Your cheeks burned, and you shot him a warning glare, but his grin only widened. His hand found your waist, fingers grazing just low enough to make your heart race, and he gave a small squeeze before stepping away, leaving you to stew in the heat he’d ignited.
Later, when no one was looking, he cornered you in the kitchen. His hands caged you in against the counter as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your neck, just below your ear.
“Bet you’re wearing something cute under this dress,” he muttered, his voice a low, teasing rasp. “Maybe I’ll find out later. Slip my hand up your thigh while everyone’s busy singing carols. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Danny,” you hissed, pushing at his chest, but he didn’t budge.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he said, his grin infuriatingly cocky. “You’re the one who dragged me into this little charade. Might as well make it fun, yeah?”
He stole a quick squeeze of your ass before stepping back, leaving you flustered and furious as he returned to the living room like nothing had happened.
It wasn’t long before someone spotted the mistletoe hanging above the archway, and of course, Daniel wasted no time dragging you beneath it. “Well, well,” he drawled, his grin wicked as the room erupted into cheers and teasing whistles. “Looks like we’ve got no choice, love.”
Danny,” you hissed, your face already flushing as your cousins and parents egged you on, half-laughing, half-embarrassed. “Just a quick one, okay?”
He smirked, tilting his head, the devil gleaming in his eyes. “Quick? Oh, sweetheart, you wound me.”
Before you could respond, his lips were on yours—hot, demanding, utterly unrestrained. He kissed you like the room wasn’t full of your family, like no one else existed. His hands slid down to grab your ass, pulling you flush against him, and he groaned into your mouth, deep and shameless.
Someone gasped. Someone else laughed nervously. But Daniel didn’t care. He kissed you like he wanted to leave a mark, like he needed everyone to know exactly who you belonged to.
When he finally pulled back, your lips were swollen, your head spinning, and his smug smirk was back in full force. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Then, quieter, just for you: “Later, I’m gonna have you bent over your childhood bed, biting that pillow to keep quiet. Bet you’ll be thinking twice about calling me a safe option.”
want more dirtbag!danny? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days
#dirtbag!danny#🐍 anon#di’s dirty drabbles#thef1diary fic#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfiction#f1 story#f1 blurb#f1 drabble#f1 one shot#f1 rpf#f1 x you#f1 smut#daniel ricciardo blurb#daniel ricciardo oneshot#daniel ricciardo fic#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo smut#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo drabble#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo x female reader#f1 au
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Nightshift rewritten pt1
Having Gojo and Geto as roommates was a problem
Tags: smut, mdni, college au, roommates (obviously), f!reader, rich kid Gojo, the reader is a bit shy and introverted, jealousy, Gojo and Geto are playboys, mästurbation, getting caught, humping, kinda mean Geto (cuz I like him like that *bite lip*), a little bit of misunderstanding but they fuck at the end because of it so we're good, fïngering, thighs fuckïng, the reader have boobs, praises, teasïng, Gojo having a (not so) little crush on you,
Author's note: Personally, I believe that those two can't pull even if their lifes depends on it, 100% zero play. But I like to be delusional so I'mma just close my eyes.
Pt2 Pt3 masterlist
roommates masterlist
You knew that living in a dorm had more disadvantage than benefits, but you didn't think that you'll fight with your roommate the first day you moved in. You lived in a shitty place filled with shitty people, so you couldn't understand why she was trying to cause problems instead of trying to maintain the peace.
You were both adults, you should have think rationally and at least ignore each other. But no, she decided to bring guys over, fucking them in there, sometimes even when you were in the room asleep. One time waking up to her getting fucked in her bed since she decided to be so loud for the whole floor to hear.
She would throw her trash into your side of the room just to not clean, and start arguments left and right because it was fun for her.
What made you snap was when she started stealing your stuff. It started with small stuff like a few pencils here and there, or supplies that you payed money for it. Until she started stealing your clothes and wearing them, showing them off like you didn't know who the right owner was.
You had enough of her, so, you packed your stuff one time when she wasn't there and moved them into the back of your car, spending the next few days at a friend. One more day in that dorm and you'll sure commit murder.
You were embarrassed of your situation, can you believe your really ended up like this? Not having a place to call home and wandering around looking for a place to stay, even your friends were helping you and it made you feel more guilty.
Couldn't you had seen this problem before it happened? You were so excited at first, still remembering the way your heart was beating while sitting in front of the dorm, admiring the building and day dreaming about how wonderful your life would be. And now your hitting your head against every single wall you see, cursing yourself out for being such a fool.
"I know a guy that can help." one of your friends said, trying to reassure you. "We'll figure it out, don't worry." if you weren't surrounded by good people you would have quit and go home. However, you didn't expect to meet that guy the same day. He appeared a few minutes later like he knew he was needed. "Y/N, this is Satoru, the guy I told you about."
"Hi." you kept your words very minimal, trying to study his appearance and figure out what kind of person he was before you decided to accept his help or not. But can you blame yourself when your trust have been broken?
He was tall and well build, broad shoulders and a cocky smile on his face. His white hair was matching his shirt, and it was making him shine under the sun light, attracting all the attention to him. Round glasses on his face, a big designer logo could be seen on the sides of it. He didn't said a word, tilting his head to the right and looking down at you.
You looked the total opposite of him. While he looked like he was bathing in the blood of virgins maidens to remain forever young, you looked tired, like you haven't been able to sleep in the past few days at all. You hair all over the place, not wanting to cooperate with you today and the more he looked at you the more defects he can find. However, you catch his attention.
Even if you looked like a lost puppy left out in the rain, you looked so cute. It only made him feel like he could fix you, shower you with affection and get you at your best. Or, he could give you a few issues that you'd never be able to recover from. Or even worse, you end up fixing him, make him realize how much of an idiot he is and make him to finally settled down.
"Have you found anything yet?" your friend asked him, seeing how both of you looked at each other without saying a single sentence.
"Find what?" he couldn't take his eyes off you, mouth half open as he's still thinking about the possibilities.
"A place for Y/N?" if he's being honest, he totally forgot.
"You can stay at my place." he said, still being affected by your gaze. All that he can remember is the color of your eyes and your lips.
"I can?" you asked, not sure that you heard him right. Will your problems end up this quickly or was he fucking with you?
"Yeah." he said without even thinking.
"Let me see the place first and I'll give you an answer after." now he was finally coming back to his senses.
What have he done? Like, seriously, what did he just say? He can't believe himself, letting himself being swiped off his feet by some girl he just met for the first time.
And now he couldn't help but feel anxious, trying to remember in what state did he left the house, or what if you don't like it.
But he took you there, showing you his not so humble abode and presenting you every single room in the house. Talking about the lore and stuff that happened in there. A few parties here and there, how he ended up buying a new couch or how he got his TV broken. You know, just normal stuff.
"Then.. When can I move in?" you asked when he walked you out, expecting you to say that you'll think about it, or how you're thinking of another place. Anything but the words you just said.
"Whenever you want." he said, still not believing how smooth everything was going.
"I already have all my stuff ready, I can bring them here any time you're free." even better.
"How about now?" he said, wanting to feel your presence for a little longer.
"Sure." and by the end of the day you're already moved in, now unpacking everything in your room.
You were finally at peace. You had a place to stay, your own room and the guy you're living with is a busy person, so he won't even be there most of the time.
That night you finally managed to get a good night sleep. Placing your head on the pillow and shifting into the dream world instantly, dreaming about fluffy clouds and jumping from one to another, even biting some of them to see how they taste.
Everything was so peaceful, enjoying your time, walking around with cute stuffed animals by your side and laughing at your hearts desire.
It didn't lasted long because you heard a loud thunder, making you turn around to see someone far away, looking in your direction, waiting for your next move.
"Don't go, don't go." the squeaky animals said, trying to stop you from going in that person's direction. But you didn't listen, you kept walking forward, getting closer and closer to the mysterious figure.
You didn't even payed attention to the stranger, being more curious of why that place was different from the rest, why it's was so off settling. You looked back for a moment, still seeing the cute stuffed animals calling you back, but once again, you ignored them and turned your head away, continuing waking forward, now finally trying to see who that mysterious figure was. But to your surprise, the whole place became dark. The white clouds now black, the comfortable atmosphere now being suffocating, and the individual walking forward, getting closer to you.
You took a step back, trying to breath, but the closer he got, the more intoxicating the air became. "You're trapped now." a masculine voice could be heard from the person in front of you, leaning down to whisper those words in a mean manner right in your ear.
You gasped for air, finally waking up from whatever that dream was supposed to mean.
You were sweating, clothes sticking to your body and your head was hurting. The whole room was spinning and you couldn't help but think about what just happened.
It must be from the stress, all that negative energy building up, making you feel vulnerable. And now that you finally had time to rest, all that anxiety finally caught up with you. Yes, that must be.
You didn't even question the guy outside your room, waiting for you to get out and make a move.
"What's with all those boxes?" a masculine voice could be heard from outside your room, but it didn't belonged to the white haired man. After all, how could you forget his voice? It was haunting you even hours after you met him.
"About that." now, you could recognize that voice, there was no way it didn't belonged to Gojo.
"You what?" the other person said out loud, making you open your eyes. It was dark outside, who was making so much noises late at night?
You turned around in bed, looking for your phone and turning it on. It was 3 in the morning, tomorrow was a work day and no matter how much you think about it, there shouldn't be a commotion happening. Especially at this time.
Should you go and see what's going on? But it didn't sounded like you needed to get involved. In fact, your presence wasn't even required from the way the other guy was insulting Gojo. It was none of your business, whatever he did, he did it. You're not a witness since you only got here today, you don't know anything about that guy besides his name and the fact that he owns this place.
You'll see what happened tomorrow, it can't be that bad. And even if it was, it was none of your business.
So, the next day you got out your room. For once you managed to wake up early on your own accord, and you decided to see what happened last night.
You doubted that he would be there, especially this early. But the white haired man was in the kitchen, sipping something from his cup with another guy sitting a few chairs away from him.
"M-" you open your mouth, but you couldn't say a word when both of them turned to look at you. You cleared your throat, embarrassed at the way your voice cracked. "Good morning." you bite your lip, lowering your gaze and cursing yourself internally for making the moment awkward.
"Did you sleep well?" Gojo was all a smile, looking at your bed hair, happy to see you in such way.
The one next to him didn't looked happy tho, and if the way he cleared his throat to catch everyone's attention wasn't enough, then he doesn't know what more he needed to do.
"Ah, right. I forgot about you." Gojo laughed, but he was welcomed with his friend looking even angrier than before. "So, like, I don't know if I told you before but I share this place with my friend."
"You didn't mention this before." you said, making the dark haired man to raise an eyebrow, looking at you for a moment and then looking back at the one sitting at the table.
"Well, I said it now." the white haired man tried to excuse his behavior.
"Did he scammed you too?" the long haired man asked, shaking his head in disappointment. "How much did he ask for rent?"
"Not a lot." he told you to pay less than 50 bucks, per year. You were about to run from there when he said that, but then he explained to you how he doesn't need any money and how he's doing this to help you. Which was even more suspicious. "He told me that I can stay here for free." you said, remembering about how he didn't even wanted to accept money at first until you said you'll leave.
"Oh, really?" the dark haired man looked at his friend, still as unhappy as before.
"You're not even paying rent so why are you complaining?" Gojo rolled his eyes, annoyed at how Geto was acting.
"Are you asking me for money?" the way the man said that sounding threatening, like he ready to fight for real.
"Are you going to pay me?" they both stared at each other, questioning each other like they didn't already knew the answer. "Then why do you keep arguing about this?"
"It would have been nice to know before hand that someone is moving in."
"I'm sorry about it." you said, playing with the hem of your shirt. "He showed me the place yesterday, I already had everything packed and he said that I can just move in." the dark haired man just sighed.
"Well, whatever. It's already done." you knew it was crazy too, but you were desperate. But at least now you got to meet your other roommate.
This sounded so bizarre, it was too convenient for it to be a coincidence. Meeting some gorgeous guy, moving in with him the same day and then meeting another guy who's just as good looking as the other. And besides that, Gojo was filthy rich too, which makes this situation even more unreal.
Was this one of those situations of how I met your mother? Or was this some sort of prank and you were going to appear on tv for the whole world to see how stupid you are?
You'd believe it if at the end of this someone appears out of nowhere talking about how this was a big elaborate scheme to take revenge on you. Because there was no way this just happened out of nowhere.
Well, anyway. Now that you know who your roommates are, it was better to stay out their way. Mostly to not embarrass yourself in front of them. One wrong move and you'll throw yourself out the window, it was better to not test the waters at all to save some face and dignity.
And like this, a week passed. The house was as quiet as ever, your presence wasn't even felt and it's like both of them forgot you even existed if it wasn't for the shoes at the door.
It was Friday night, 11 something, almost midnight when you sneaked out your room, making your way to the kitchen. You were hungry, and if you didn't eat anything in that moment you feel like you'll pass out.
All the lights inside the house were turned off, it didn't feel like you were living with anyone. But you understood their schedule at this point. They were always out, only coming back home to sleep for a few hours and then disappear as soon as they wake up.
So, you didn't expect someone to walk in 10 minutes after you sat down at the long dining table. You were enjoying some leftovers and what else you found in the fridge, watching some funny video on your phone and giggling at it.
You almost choked when you saw Suguru walking in.
"It's you." he said, not even looking surprised to see you. But you on the other hand was dying, trying to swallow the food so you could run from there. "I haven't seen you these days." he walked to the fridge, opening it, then turned around to look at the table you were sitting at. "That was mine." you looked terrified, how comes you didn't thought about this before? "It's alright, don't worry. Satoru takes my food all the time." he said and walked towards you, sitting down next to you and taking something from the table to eat.
His friend whined the whole week about not being able to see you. He haves no idea what classes you were taking or at what hours, and now Satoru couldn't even talk to you in his own home.
Geto didn't understand what he saw in you. You were the total opposite of the women he hangs with. He knew his friend inside out, how could he not especially when they have the same type.
You didn't showed off, you didn't wear revealing clothes that made your body pop out. No, you were comfortable, wearing baggy clothes, not even bothering to doll yourself up for them. You weren't faking your personality and you weren't afraid of showing how you felt. You weren't trying to please them in any way, heck, you didn't even looked in their direction.
"You know, I wanted to talk to you about something." he said, seeing how you were trying to escape from there.
"Hm?" you tilted your head, deciding to stay for a little longer to hear him out.
"Me and Satoru shares our chores here. We don't do them everyday as you can see, but we do them once or twice a week." what a dull excuse. "Let me know what you wanna do next time." he doesn't believe shit he's saying.
"I see.." you didn't believe him either, did you? "I didn't know."
"Give me your number. I'll make a group chat so it would be easier for us to talk." Gojo better be grateful for all the work he's putting in.
"Alright." you gave him your number without thinking much about it.
"This is my number, and that's Satoru's. You can just save mine, forget about him." the dark haired man looked at you with the side of his eye, pointing at the phone numbers from the group chat he just added you in. He was testing you, to see what you'll say or do. "Just joking." he said when he saw you weren't reacting. "He'll be sad if you don't add him too."
"I don't think he will." you said, saving their numbers in your phone. Ah, his poor friend, you didn't even knew how you got him acting up in hope to catch your attention.
"Want to see how he'll react about it?" you shook your head. Right, you were a pacifist after all, what did he even expected. "Anyway, are you going anywhere this weekend?" you shook your head again, not having any plans and wanting to rest more. "I'm going to a party tomorrow. Why don't you come with me?" you looked displeased at his words, he noticed the way your nose scrunch.
"I don't like parties." of course you don't. He already knew the answer, but he was hoping he could get under your skin, play with you for a moment just to see his friend's reaction.
"Don't you get bored inside all day?" he would. He feel like he's suffocating staying in the same place for too long.
"Not really. I'm more comfortable here than outside." he really doesn't get what Gojo saw in you. You're so.. bland. You were too domestic.
"Well, the party offer is still available. Text me whenever you change your mind." he'll prove that you're the same as others. You just need a little bit of pushing, and he'll push you over your limits as much as it's needed.
But you didn't texted him that night. He waited and waited and he didn't got a single message from you. And the next day you had the audacity to appear in the kitchen, wanting to talk to them.
"About what we talked yesterday." you said, looking at the visibly annoyed man, and then at Gojo who was half asleep.
"What did we talked about yesterday?" the white haired man said, only remembering about the party he attended last night.
"I could do the groceries next week." you planned on going out to buy a few things anyway, so you're basically killing two birds in one stone.
"You're sure? There's a big list of things you have to buy." the dark haired man said, trying to push you into asking for help.
"Yeah, don't worry. I have a car, it's not like I'm carrying them from the store here." what a disappointment.
"Wait, what are we talking about?" Gojo finally came to his senses, seeing you appear out of nowhere and talking so casual, for once you didn't looked tired or scared to be there.
"Our chores. Suguru told me about it." all Geto did was to look at his friend, trying to telepathically talk to him, but his face said more than enough. Play along, that's all he had to do.
"Then I'll do the laundry." the dark haired man said, a smile appearing on his face. "And Satoru is doing the dishes."
"What, why me?" this was absurd.
"Because I'm doing them today."
"Anyway, I'm glad we managed to settle this." you said, turning around and ready to go back to your room.
"You could have texted, that's what the group chat is for after all." well, yes, but it was better to do some stuff face to face.
"What group chat?" Gojo was so far behind with this.
"Check your phone." that's all the dark haired man said, making his friend to get his phone out immediately.
"Anyway, I'll go now." and you disappeared from there.
Your life was supposed to be peaceful, wake up, do your usual stuff and then go back to sleep only to wake up and do the same thing again. Some would say that it's boring, but that's how your life is, and you don't want to change it.
However, the devils outside your room said otherwise, texting and texting even though it's not necessarily. Asking if you want to go out, or some other stuff that involves too much physical effort. You get it that they're trying to be friendly, but there's some boundaries and they don't seem to mind stepping over that line.
Your roommates are working full time trying to get you out your room. Sending you risky texts (nothing out of pocket, just stuff they wouldn't usually say), being extra extra nice with you, talking to you in a baby voice and if you're being honest, it's annoying. But you didn't said a thing, trying to help them save some dignity, knowing they probably don't even mean those words.
The stupid might not be so stupid after all. They been observing you, studying you, your likes, your dislikes, your body movements and you as a person. Their study so detailed that it had been a month and a half since you moved in, and now they're putting their plan in action.
It was almost midnight when your phone buzzed, your oh so lovely house mate Suguru send you a text. "Got some takeouts" and a photo of your favorite attached. You recognize the package, it was from your favorite restaurant. "Was on my way home and passed by that place, got something of what they still had left" he texted again. Lies, him and Satoru been placing orders left and right for all kind of food, the ones you like especially.
You thought nothing of it, walking out your room with a smile on your face as you went to taste whatever they have got home.
The next day it was Gojo's turn. Getting home a lot earlier, a bag with some black boxes inside, the name of a fancy restaurant written with gold on them.
"Y/N." he called your name, a smile on his face as he waited for you to come running to him. "Y/N." he said your name again, but you seemed nowhere to be found. God, what were you doing to him.
He left the bags in the kitchen, getting out of there and walking towards your room, opening the door without a warning and looking at you who sat in the bed.
You looked at him, looking a lot more relaxed than when he first met you. You were finally getting some sleep, and he feared that some random fucker would try to steal you from him.
You blinked a few times, eyelashes moving prettily, eyes as big as ever, and he had to mentally slap himself to keep his composure. Forget about the food, he wanted to eat you.
"I-" he took a deep breath, trying to figure out why he came to your room in the first place. "Got some takeouts from this restaurant I've been to." he had no idea what he was saying, he couldn't even hear himself. The way you look at him got him mesmerized.
"Okay." you got up, walking towards him, then into the kitchen.
The package looks expensive, and so did the food. You couldn't help but stare in awe, wandering if you're even allowed to look at it in the first place.
"Got invited to this restaurant that just opened." the white haired man said, looking at you eating. He's indifferent about the food, all he cares about is what you think.
"I see." you could only nod, taking a bite of another thing, tasting it and debating which one tasted better. "It's good." you said.
It didn't matter how much your stupid roommates would try to lure you out, if it wasn't food then it wasn't working. But they kept trying and trying, and they always failed.
Invitations to the movies, parties or even just a walk outside, you'd always decline. It didn't matter if all you had to do is cross the street, you'd say no. A part of you being too embarrassed to go out with them, I mean, what would people say if they see you together? Just look at them, you'll attract all the attention and that's terrifying no matter how much you think about it. Or what if people think you're fucking them or something? Oh god, what would your roommates say?
It wasn't like you wanted to keep that distance, it's just.. they're intimidating. The way they look down at you, corner you at the dining table and sandwiches you between them. The man spreading was real, taking all the space you had, making you feel so so much smaller. They would even take the air from your lungs if it was possible.
Was it wrong to say you liked it? How both of the men bend down to talk to you, or just look at you. Broad shoulders that were double your size, big chests that made you look down way too many times than you'd like to admit. It made you feel bad every time you think of it, but at the same time was it really your fault when they were some nymphs?
They don't seem to do a move, and even if they did, you couldn't figure out if it was some sort of hidden hint or if your overthinking it. They were nice, they were good roommates, but sometimes you wanted more than just little hello's here an there. You gotta do a move, but for the moment you have to think of a plan.
"You're home?" you said, walking into the kitchen and looking at the two men who were still in pyjamas.
"We're not going anywhere today." the dark haired man said, taking something out the fridge and walking next to you, wanting to go back to his room. "You're going somewhere?" he asked, looking at the dress you had on, making his friend look up his phone.
"I'm going out with my friends. I'll be back late." how did the tables turned. "Anyway, see you later." you walked out of there, finally going out for the first time in days.
Everything was going good so far. The weather was nice, you were having a great time, and so did your friends. But just like always, something haves to come up and ruin your mood.
"Y/N, you live with Gojo and Geto, right?" a friend of yours asked, finally letting everyone know of your living situation.
"Yeah." you said nonchalantly, not seeing why your friend should bring your roommates into the discussion.
"It's true? Spell the tea, and don't miss a single detail." another person said, but you weren't even sure of what to say.
"Which one have you slept with?" you saw your soul leaving at that question. "You haven't?"
"You didn't? Why?" you weren't sure yourself.
"We just live together, nothing more than the same old small talk." but you couldn't deny that they were tempting.
"You could have done it everyday since you live with them."
"Why are we talking about this?" you asked, confused on why you got in this situation in the first place.
"Don't you know?" you shook your head. "They're known for sleeping around." they are? Who could have guessed? You thought they had zero game.
"They're always out to party, in fact, you can't even call a party party if they're not there." one of your friends said, finally answering why your roommates were out all the time.
"They're so popular, there isn't a single person who doesn't know who they are." this have to be an exaggeration.
"So like.. About them.. You know, fooling around." you can't help but be curious. "How much are we talking about it?"
"I heard they take home a girl everyday." you never saw a single girl in there?
"I heard that they don't sleep with the same girl twice." what eccentrics.
"Haven't you heard about that girl that slept with Gojo three times? She's basically calling herself his girlfriend." what? He's in a relationship?
"No way. I saw him two days ago at a party. I almost went home with him." huh? Even your own friends?
"And you didn't invited me?" your other friend gasped then started laughing.
You were curious, just curious. And this cliche of a plot only got you in your thoughts. So, basically, your very hot roommates who seemed out this world had their own planet where they bang everyone but you. They go party all night and then leave with god knows who while you're at home in your room doing what you usually do.
It was none of your business, and yet you can't help but feel bad. What was wrong with you? Do you not have any kind of sex appeal? Was this why Gojo even asked you to move into his place? Because he knew he could leave you be? He should be happy that you looked in his direction to begin with.
More questions appeared, and you kept sulking for the rest of the day, even when you got home.
You shouldn't had asked, you should have minded your own business because now you can't help be sad. Why couldn't it be you?
"I'm back." you said while opening the front door, wanting nothing more than take a shower and then sleep for as much as possible.
"Welcome back." you heard Suguru's voice while you were taking your shoes off. "How was out?" tiring, but he didn't needed to know.
"Fun." you said, pushing your shoes to the side, out the way so no one would trip over them. "Got takeouts." you bought some without even thinking. It became normal for them to get something home that you did it without thinking twice.
"I'll get them." he got closer to you, picking the small bag from your hand.
He looked at you with a blank expression. You tried to mimic his face, not wanting to let anyone know about your foolish feelings, this jealousy that was eating you inside. And he picked it up fast, realizing you weren't feeling well.
"You're alright?" he tried to mask any kind of concern, not wanting to show that he cared.
"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?" you couldn't even smile, even if you wanted to.
"Did something happen while you were out?" that's the only explanation he could came up with. Why else would you feel bad if it wasn't that?
"It's just the weather. Don't worry about it." why was he asking if he didn't cared about you? His dumb pity wasn't making you feel any better.
"You can talk to me if you want. I'm always free for you." he talks like he's not free for others as well.
"It's alright. I'll go take a bath and then I'll feel better."
"If you say so." honestly, he was so annoying.
You walked away from there, to your room when you remembered about that bath. Some warm water and the smell of your body wash would work so good in that moment. So, you turned around, going towards the bathroom.
You were so tired, still in your thoughts, overthinking about this whole inexistent situation that you didn't heard the water running.
You open the door, expecting to see an empty bathroom, but instead you saw that somebody was inside. Back towards you and taking a shower, you could recognize that white hair anywhere.
For a moment you froze in place, your body refusing to cooperate with you when you kept yelling internally to run away from there. Your eyes however still worked, and it wander for a little. It traveled from his head, to his neck, and then on his bare back that was exposed to you. He extended his hand, grabbing the closest bottle that was next to him, your shampoo, and putting some in his hand, making you silently gasp.
Forget about your bad mood from earlier, now you were mad at the fact that Satoru was using your shampoo, next thing you know that he's using your towels as well. What if the other man was using your stuff as well? Was that why his hair was looking way too good lately?
You ran out the bathroom, going back to your room, too angry to even change clothes. You just jumped in bed and fell asleep, hoping to wake up and forget about everything that happened.
The next day came, and you woke up a lot earlier than usually. You were hungry, thirsty and your head hurts. You didn't even drank any kind of alcohol yesterday and yet it felt like you were feeling the worst hangover ever know to mankind.
With small steps you walked out your room, eyes still closed as you were trying to find your way to the kitchen.
"Morning, sleepyhead." that colorful voice, as much as you liked Gojo you really couldn't handle his teasing at the moment.
"Mm." you hummed something, looking for some water.
"Do you feel better?" the dark haired man could act like he doesn't know a thing, but instead he chose to embarras you.
"You drank too much yesterday?" Gojo asked, feeling left out by the fact that you went out to drink and you didn't think of inviting him. He wasn't that much of an alcohol fan but he could have come as emotional support.
"Didn't even seen a single drink yesterday." you said, opening a bottle of water. If you would had looked in a better conditions, you would have looked believable, but no. Your hair was in all directions, you looked tired than you should be, and your dress had seen better days.
"Where have you been last night?" Gojo's voice was too serious, and even his smile disappeared. Geto would have put the same question if he didn't saw you yesterday.
"Here, where else?" it's not like you had anywhere else to go. "Fell asleep the moment I sat in bed."
"What happened yesterday anyway?" Geto asked, trying to find out what got you in that mood.
"Did something happen yesterday?" why was Satoru the last one to find stuff?
"She came back yesterday looking sad."
"Did someone did something to you? Is that why you look like that?" seriously, Gojo was over reacting.
"Fell asleep without changing." you were too relaxed about this. While the men were concerned about something bad might had happened, you didn't even seemed to care. "Was too tired yesterday."
"And why is that?" they're too insisting, and you didn't understand why. This is only ruining your mood. If they don't care about you why are they acting so nice? Now you can't but overthink again.
"It's nothing, really." everyone could see the sudden change, from tired you looked a lot sadder now.
"I'll deal with it, just tell me the bastard's name." you wanted to laugh but you were afraid Gojo might actually do something.
"It's not like that."
"Then?" the dark haired man crossed his arms to his chest, leaning against the wall as he looked at you.
"I heard something I didn't like." that was all? They thought someone was bullying you or picking on you. "I mean, I don't know if it's the truth but it makes sense and that's what I don't like."
"Then don't listen to it." you shook your head.
"I had my speculations and now everything is confirmed." you could only sigh.
"Is your boyfriend cheating on you?" boy who?
"I'm not in a relationship." that's reassuring.
"If you don't like the truth just close your eyes. It's easy to ignore what you don't like to see." that explains a lot of their strange behavior, but at the same time you didn't want to do just like Suguru just said.
"It's hard to ignore it when it's right in front of me." what would they know when they're the cause of your distress? "Honestly, I feel much better knowing that I was right. Now I can avoid causing problems." somehow, neither of the men liked how that sounded. "Anyway, I'm going to take a shower and then go back to sleep." why did you even consider their opinion was a mystery, but you do feel better about yourself knowing that you're just being delusional. Live the way you did before meeting them, easy.
You're playing with their feelings, and yours as well. While they're all open for your opinion, and actually growing to have a soft spot for you, you turn your back on them.
What more did you needed from them? They're trying their best to understand you, they've been so understanding and holding back way too much, but you still don't get the hints.
But they also don't get your almost non existent hints. I mean, can their actions be counted as hints? But perhaps that's what's wrong, the fact that no one is actually trying to imply something.
Can this situation get fixed? You refuse to get out your room until you sort your thoughts out. It got to the point where no one have seen you in a week already and Satoru is so close on kicking your door down to drag you out of there.
Frustration keep building up, from both sides. And it manifested in different ways for everybody. While you went out a little more than usually, trying to enjoy some fresh air, your roommates were out getting from bed to bed, making their name more known that it already is.
It didn't lasted long for you though, and soon you went back being a lazy cat. Your social battery drained quicker than you thought, but not theirs. And one day you woke up with strange sounds in the middle of the night.
You were sleeping peacefully when it happened. Being long gone in the dream world when you felt like you were being dragged out of it. Confused, you looked around, trying to understand the situation, what exactly was going on. You got out of bed, walking back and forth in your room, thinking only the worst about this situation.
Your neighbor is hurt, and those sounds are because of it. Or worse, someone broke into the house and your home alone because of course you are, what do you even expect from the two men who lives under the same roof as you.
You open the door slightly, still paranoid, but you were trying to understand what was going on.
You picked one of the house slippers you had next to your bed, ready to hit who ever came close to where you were.
Feminine moans, and you still couldn't figure it out if it was pain or something else. But you finally understood what was going on after a while.
Who dared to wake you up because they couldn't keep it down? Right, how could you forget about how promiscuous those two guys were. What if you come home with a guy one day? At least you had the decency to think of going to a hotel or something, not here where everybody could hear.
Your mood is ruined once again. Can you believe the audacity? How could you have dream about banging one of them, or both? The thought is still nice, and you're not crazy enough to pass such an opportunity, but still.
It was almost noon when you woke up the next day. And as much as you didn't want to see those guy's faces, you were curious about the girl. What did she had and you don't?
Shy, you got out your room. Opening the door of your room softly and walking as quietly as possible.
You walked past the living room when you saw what a mess it was, making you stop in place and reconsider what happened. Maybe somebody did broke into the house yesterday?
Cautiously, you walked towards the couch only to see Gojo sleeping peacefully on it. A blanket over him and it wasn't even covering him. He was also not wearing a shirt, and you could only imagine how he was feeling in that moment. After all, it was always cold in the morning.
Feeling a little bit of sympathy, you decided to do something good for once, even if he was annoying at times. Lowering yourself, you grabbed the blanket and dragged it over him. What happened last night did ruined your mood completely, but this was his house. Your jealousy can be put aside for a moment.
"Mm." he groaned, turning around to face you. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times and looking at you, then blinking a few more times and trying to figure out if you're real or not.
"Did I wake you up?" your soft voice only made him feel guilty, for everything he did. For the fact that he open his door for you with not so clear intentions and the fact that he kept looking at girls who resemble you in a way or another. Just like he did yesterday, meeting someone who looks too much like you in the dark, bringing her home and fucking her on the couch because he didn't want to bring her into his room, and for you to hear. Good thing he stopped himself from bending her over the dining table, right on the spot you like to sit at or else he wouldn't be able to even look at you right now. "Sorry."
"I was awake." he's not even sure if he got any sleep at all.
"I thought you might be cold." the only thing he's feeling at the moment is stupid, and somehow regret but he's not really sure about that.
"I'm not." he said, finally getting up, sitting on the couch and looking around to see if the place looked the same as he remembers. The blanket fell off him, revealing too much of him. You could see his bare back, and a bit of his thighs which were just as naked as his upper body. He looked at you, noticing the way you were trying to figure out why there was so much skin showing. "I'm not wearing any clothes." he answered to your unasked question. "I'm naked." the look you had on your face was something he haven't seen before, and honestly, this small interaction alone was doing more to him that anything he had done for the past few weeks.
You took a few steps back, making him laugh.
He rested his back against the couch, he wasn't even looking at you but he knew exactly what expression you had. "Why did you ran? Don't you wanna see more?" all he got in response was the sound of you walking away, hurried steps getting out the room and leaving him alone once again.
He's not good at communicating, and he's trying to mask that by a goofy facade, hoping you and everyone else won't notice. But man, it kinda hurts. He can't explain why, since he doesn't know why. He just feel dumb, useless for doing things he doesn't want to and still expect stuff to be the same, or even better.
Can you forgive him? He'll try to do better from now on. Either this or he'll bring girls over and over in hope to catch your attention.
"I'll go out, doubt I'll come back until tomorrow." Geto texted in the group chat.
"Me too :(" Gojo also sent something. "Don't miss me too much." you looked at the texts, and you can't be more thankful. You needed some time alone, like, all alone. Just you,the whole house for yourself and the sound of nothing.
"I'll stay home. I don't have any plans for today or tomorrow." and you're happy with your life.
"Don't get too crazy while we're out." the only wild thing you can do is take a cold shower instead of a hot one.
"I won't." and now you were waiting.
Your day was peaceful, watching a movie and then scrolling on social media. You didn't even noticed when it got dark outside, and now you're bored.
You have the whole house for yourself, you're all alone. No one is here besides you.
You're used to them being out, but now it just feels different. You were alone, and you didn't liked it. It was a shame to not have company on such a beautiful night.
Was it wrong to say you craved for some human touch? To feel the warmth of someone else, and perhaps the embrace of said person. It doesn't even have to be something sexual, or romantic. It can be just a simple interaction, no words needed.
You didn't even realize when you started rubbing your thighs together, your body feeling too hot for your own good. And the more you think about it the more it bothers you.
You're alone right now, aren't you? No one is there to disturb you. You can just.. indulge yourself, I guess?
With a quick movement, your pants were somewhere in the room, your shirt up your body, revealing your breasts and your panties to the side. Some porn playing on your phone and it wasn't much for help. That was until you saw one particular video, a man that seemed familiar in a way or another over a much smaller body. Your pussy twitching at the realization of who that man looks like. It looked just like one of your roommates and you were so ashamed for being turned on, but you couldn't help but look for similar stuff.
You needed more of them, anything that resembles your roommates, you needed to see it. It can be the hair, the body, or the way they just fuck. Anything that sparks something in your head, anything that screams them. You can't help but moan just thinking about it.
With a hand between your legs, you tried to mimic the movement of who ever was on your screen, moaning quietly when your imagination was going too wild.
Lost in your own world, you didn't even heard the front door opening, or the steps that were getting closer to your room. You didn't got a text that would warn you about someone coming home, so you weren't worried. Instead you were focused on that orgasm that kept building up, it was so close and you're trying really hard to keep your mind focus, away from those roommates of yours.
The man outside your room froze in place, your door was slightly open and he had a clear view of your bed and your little alone time. He could say something, but at the same time he didn't want to. Seeing you in that situation was too fascinating. Like, who would have thought the little angel that keeps herself from the world would do something like this?
It got him curious, what were you watching? What got you like this in the first place? The moans you leave out from time to time, not sure yourself if you should let them out or not.
What got him to almost open the door and get in your bed was when you came, holding back a moan that he just knows it would get him weak in the knees. You were trembling, eyes closed and biting your shirt to not let anything you might regret out. And you kept going even after you came, this time looking more desperate than before.
He couldn't keep it like this, he haves to do something. So, without thinking, he turned on his phone.
"Something came up, I'll be back in a few minutes." you got a text, looking at the name of the person that sent it and then letting out the moan you were holding back earlier. Suguru.
It only got you feeling more fucked up than you were already. Letting go of your phone and focusing on that annoying aching from between your legs. "Fuck." you cursed without realizing. Letting out small please as you tried to cum at least one more time before he 'came back'.
To his disappointing, you didn't came a second time, putting your clothes back on quickly and trying to make it look like nothing happened. He had no choice but to walk back to his room and try to sleep this off or else he won't be able to leave you alone for the rest of the night.
He couldn't sleep at all, thinking about your reactions, how his text got you moaning harder than before. What were you watching? Was it something he should be aware of? But he couldn't just take your phone and look at what you were looking.
He refuses to live with this information and let you go off easily. You had to pay for your actions. I mean, how could you not ask for help? And how could you let him see you like that when you didn't planned on letting him have any.
So, imagine how surprised he was to see you act like nothing happened the next day. Making him think there was something wrong with him for staring at you way too intensely. But he got a plan. You had to give up at some points, and he'll just help you give up sooner than later for your own good.
"I'm on groceries duty this week?" the dark haired man asked, already knowing what he he'll do.
"Yep." his friend said, looking in his phone.
"You're coming with me, Satoru." he said, a smile on his face and all he could think of was the sweet taste of your pussy on him.
"Why?"
"Just do it. Don't ask so many questions." and the two guys were off.
Now, Geto's plan would work only if you do as he planned. All he haves to do is deny you for a few days, cockblock you and leave you hanging just enough to become dumb for him. Then he haves to act like the knight in shining armor and help you, since he's a gentleman.
That's why he got Gojo with him, leaving him in the middle of the store and running home just to see what you'd do. And to his surprise, you were acting just like he wanted you to. Stuffing yourself full of your fingers, all in a hurry to release yourself from the previous time you couldn't. A hand over your mouth, trying to not let anything out, to not get too comfortable with this. But it was so hard, and you couldn't help but let a few sounds out once in a while.
He really doesn't get you. Why not asking for help? Both of the men were easy, a few nice words or just a nod and they'll be all over you. Heck he's the easiest person he knows. Give him a pretty look and he'll fuck you just the way you want. So why do you keep refusing to acknowledge them, or him at least?
He gulped, biting his lip before he open his mouth. "I'm back." he said it in a quiet tone, to make it look like he was further away than he actually was.
He loved this, the panicked look on your face and trying to gather your composure. Oh , he'll enjoy playing with you.
At first he would just pop out of nowhere, making sure you don't get any time alone, at least without acknowledging his presence. But now he would invite himself in your room whenever he walked past it. Slightly opening the door to catch a glimpse of whatever you were doing. It didn't matter if it was in the middle of the day or at night when he was supposed to sleep.
He can see how frustrated you were, and he couldn't be more happier than this.
"I don't wanna go." Gojo whined, looking at his phone only to sigh. "They'll force me to stay over the night." he pushed his phone far away from him.
"Then don't go?" you didn't understand why he was complicating himself when he could just stay home.
"Another of your family gatherings, huh?" the dark haired man said, making you realize that it was more than it looked like.
"Ah.." you scratched your neck. "We'll miss you." if he had to go, he had to go.
"I wish that I could take Y/N with me, but they'll never let go of it if I take someone with me." the white haired man groaned.
"Good luck." you can't really say much since you don't know how his family was like.
"Are you doing something tonight?" Geto asked, looking down at you and waiting for an answer.
"No."
"Really? Because you look very busy to me." you didn't understood his words. "Why don't you watch a movie with me then? I don't have anything better to do."
"I also wanna watch a movie." the white haired man whined.
"We'll watch when you come back." his friend said, but he wasn't really sure of that.
"I mean, sure." oh, if you only knew what your sweet roommate actually had in mind.
The time went painfully slow. But now it was dark outside once again. And Suguru could feel his palms sweating. What if everything goes as he wanted? He knows he kept thinking about it, but he can't see himself in an adulterous situation with you.
You're just there. You don't do much, you don't talk much and he's used to that. He's used to think about it, always putting what if in front of his day dreams. He was making fun of his friend for being such a dork but now look at him, actually concerned about this whole situation. What if nothing goes as he planned? Or what if it does?
Fucking without any feelings, that's what he's used to. But now this got him thinking that he should run to the closest flower shop to get some roses. Maybe some candles too?
"Suguru, are you awake?" a soft knock on his door woke him up from his thoughts.
"Y- Yeah." his voice betrayed him. "I didn't even noticed the time." he lied, finally opening the door and stepping into the hallway.
"What are we watching?" you moved your eyelashes so prettily. He's afraid he won't last that long next to you, especially since you're alone.
"I don't know." he didn't think that further yet.
In the end, you turned on the TV on a random channel, watching whatever it was on. A movie about a man trying to be a hero, the same old generic plot, with the same over the top acting and action. Lots of explosion and lots of unnecessary stuff. But it was the perfect movie for your situation.
No love included, no sweet words or couples. It was enough to make the two of you forget about the awkwardness between you two. Or so you thought. Because halfway through the movie the female lead appeared. And some time later the two actors were getting it on.
You couldn't help but stare in disbelief, the sex was so dry that you're surprised they let the scenes in the movie. On the other side of the couch, your roommate was trying his best to not look at you or else he might do something out of pocket.
You, however, didn't feel the same as him. So you turned your head towards him, looking at how uncomfortable he was. "You're alright?" don't look at him, don't look at him, don't- "This movie is stupid." you laughed, thinking that's what he wanted to say as well but he decided not to. "Wanna watch something else?" right, how did he not think of that?
Taking the remote, he changed the channel. And this one was even worse. Without any warnings you were looking now at two other actors making out like there was no tomorrow. And as much as he wanted to see your reaction, he changed the channel without hesitating.
Third time with luck. No explicit actions, just two actors out in the city, walking next to each other.
"I always wanted to tell you this, ever since I first met you." the male actor said, looking at his costar a bit too lovingly.
"I also have something to say." the female actor said, looking a bit shy and red in the cheeks.
"You go first." the male actor said, biting his lip and holding back whatever he wanted to say.
"Do you think this is a spy movie?" you asked, trying to alternate the plot even if it was obviously what was going on.
"I like you." one of the actors said and it made you sigh.
"Never mind." you shook your head.
"It would have been funny it if was." at least he was on the same page as you. And once again, he changed the channel, for your own goods.
"Thanks god it's ads." you could finally breath in peace.
You watch some cartoons and then change the channel again when it got too boring. The movie from earlier where those actors were confessing their love was now filled with obscene scenes. And unlike before, they actually looked they really were in heat. Touching each other like there's no tomorrow, the kisses looks so real that you won't be surprised if they actually start fucking. Even the moans sounded real.
Not wanting to look at that for any longer, you turned off the tv, breathing heavily and hoping you don't look like you're affected by it.
You gulped, wanting to see how the man next to you was doing, but at the same time you didn't want to look because you knew this was going to be a long night the moment you gave him any attention. And he was feeling the exact same, not daring to move an inch because he knew he couldn't keep his hands away from you for much longer.
Curiosity got the best of you, and in the end you ended up turning your head towards him, at the same time as he looked at you.
No one said a thing. The silence was too audible, but somehow comfortable.
"Come here." he said, resting his back against the couch and waiting for your move. You'd probably run, like you always do. That's what he expected you to do, but imagine his surprise when you got closer, looking at him with big eyes and waiting for his next command. He's not convinced yet, I mean, this was too good to be true, there haves to be a catch. "Here." he pat his lap, waiting to see if he could have you for the night or not.
You got on his lap, your legs on either sides of him and your hands on his shoulders. His hands travelled on your hips, moving them up your body, grabbing one of your boobs for a moment before he let go. He dragged you closer, lowering his head just enough to get a better look at you before his lips touched yours.
He's testing the waters, trying to see what you allow him to do, where your boundaries were before he'll let you have more of him.
But you didn't pushed him away no matter what he did. He could explore your body freely, there was no forbidden zone, he could touch all of your body and that only made him greedier.
All the shyness from earlier evaporated, all the awkwardness and doubt went out the window the moment the kiss became a much deeper one. Now you were eating each other out, hands all over the place and dragging the other closer whenever one got a little away.
"Let me take it off." he got away for a moment, taking your shirt off with a single movement. His lips were now on your neck, going down to your breasts and biting them, leaving marks all over the place.
This wasn't his usual style, marking his territory and making out. He usually just gets to the business. And he been lying if he said he didn't like what he's doing now.
One of his hands went to your ass, dragging you closer, moving yourself right on his hard cock that wanted to escape from his pants. He's about to lose it but at the same time he wants to take his sweet time because he haves a feeling that you'll run away from him tomorrow.
He guided you at first, moving you on him so both of you could get some friction, a little bit of relief before the big thing happens.
He kissed you, again and again. From your lips to your neck, sucking on your nipples and then back up. He wanted to know he been there before anyone else or at least before his absent friend.
You moaned quietly, letting out sounds bearly audible, holding back anything louder than that. But it was alright, he'll make you louder later.
The image of you stuffing your pussy with your fingers, desperately to cum was now playing in his mind.
He wants to try that, his cock is twitching just thinking about how warm and wet you must be.
He got you off him, getting up and looking at your disappointed face. "Take off your pants." he tried to keep his words minimal, but it was more than enough to get your face change in a instant.
Your actions holds more power over him than you think. It got his mouth watering just looking at you.
He took you in his arms, walking towards your room, almost kicking the door down so he could get in faster. He placed you at the edge of your bed, taking your panties off and stuffing them in his pocket, not even caring if you noticed him or not. Then he took his shirt off.
Pushing you in bed and hovering over you, placing your legs over his thighs so it would stay open. With a finger, he traveled in between your folds just to see how wet you were. How can he hold back when he haves you like this? He doesn't even think he can put his dick in just yet, who knows when he'll lose his composure and fuck everything up. One moment inside your warm pussy and it's over for him.
"Stop staring, it's embarrassing." your small voice didn't helped him with the demons inside of him.
He bite his lip, getting two of his fingers slowly inside your pussy. It was hard to hold back whatever words he had to say, he especially didn't wanted to let out any praises after you played with his feelings.
You feel a lot better than he expected, and his bars were already high. Somehow you manage to always exceed his expectations. Can you blame him when he started to move his fingers deeper and deeper? He just wanted to see how far he could go, see where your sweet spots are so he could give them the attention it needed.
Curling his fingers to see how you'd react, moving in and out at a fast speed only to slow down and curl his fingers again. You almost started crying when he started rubbing your clit. He was so focused on torturing you, showing you that it was better with him giving you what you needed than doing it yourself.
And when you came it wasn't even better, he kept his hand movement, overstimulating you just to show you that he can. But you too could play his game, tugging at his shirt to drag him closer to you and kiss him, making him stop for a moment. Ah, right. You probably wanted more than just his fingers after all this time he kept tormenting you.
He took his fingers out of you, making you feel empty. Now focusing on kissing you. The way he takes everything so slow was annoying, and you tried to grab his shirt, to get it off him. But that only made him laugh. "I'm not going anywhere." he said with a smile on his face, surprised at how impatient you were.
He can't say he doesn't get it, because he understands how you feel perfectly. And as much as he wants to tease you more, he can't. So he did as you pleased, taking off his clothes. Your eyes on him the whole time.
He got on top of you once again, getting in between your legs and staring at you. His cock resting on your lower stomach, just to get an idea of how much he could fit inside and man, looking at the size now you're a little scared, but still very much aroused.
As much as he wanted to turn a blind eye on this, he couldn't. Not when he sees how you look at him. Guess he was right about not being able to go all the way in today. He'll have to take small steps and he's afraid he doesn't have that much time.
So, he pressed your legs together, placing them over his shoulder, getting his cock in between your thighs. "You can't handle it." his words didn't made you happy. I mean, even if it was true, wasn't he supposed to suport you? Compliment you and tell you how good your doing, that you can take it.
He moved his hips slowly, ignoring the expression you're giving him and focusing on the friction. God, next time he'll get his hands on you he won't leave you alone.
You calmed down, now examining his face, his movement and how you could see the tip of his cock every time his pelvis touched the back of your thighs.
An idea appeared in your head, and you flexed your thighs, looking at the way he groaned, gripping your skin harder.
"You like it?" you were curious, just wanting to know how he feels, but he interpreted your words differently. "Should I do it again?" are you mocking him? Because if you continue like this he'll make this harder for you.
Your eyes had something innocent in them, like you were genuinely curious about his pleasure, yet he refused to believe it. I mean, you had him in such a desperate state, there was no way you weren't laughing at him.
"Close your eyes." he placed a hand over your eyes. He was feeling too embarrassed for his own good.
"I like looking at you." you tried to take his hand away. "You're cute." all he did was to groan in response. "Let me look at you, come on." you spend way too much time thinking about this to not be able to see him.
"Stay put or I'll fuck your pussy so good you'll forget your own name." he kept barking something between his teeth. But you didn't listen to his empty words. You wanted to see him in action not just talking.
"Come ooon." you whined, not listening to his threat.
Instead of any more words, you were met with him spreading your legs and his cock right against your pussy. You wanted to look at him? Then look.
Your heart was beating way too fast, and he wasn't even paying you attention. Slapping the tip of his cock against your wet folds, rubbing it up and down, and the slapping your poor pussy again. Taming brats was one of his favorite activities after all.
No matter how much he wants to show you that he's not just talk, he's true to his words. He'll let this slide this time.
So, to show you that he can still give you something without his cock deep inside of you, he got his body closer to yours. Pressing his thick length against your pussy, right onto your clit, and moving his hips slowly for you to get used to this feeling.
You did know your place after all, and yet you liked pressing his buttons. Lucky you he enjoyed your company or else he wouldn't have taken your teasing that lightly. But the more he thinks about it the more it gets on his nerves.
He started to let some of his weight into you, pressing his pelvis into yours harder, moving his hips faster. His hot breath against your ear, letting nothing but filthy sounds out, moans just for you to hear. And he was met with your nails into his back, dragging him closer, wanting to feel more of him on you, your legs wrapped around his waist and you wished nothing more but to see him from a third view, to have a better look at his back and just him in general.
Your moans, he wanted to eat them up. He was trying his absolute best not to kiss you in that moment. Because if he does, it's most likely he'd get used to it, and he doesn't want that.
"Suguru." the way you said his name got his cock twitching. "Kiss me." he groaned. You'll be too spoiled if he fulfills every single one of your requests. "Please?" he had to bite your shoulder in order to keep a moan from coming out.
Stop playing with him, for fucks shake. Can't you see he's unwell? Look at the way he's moving his hips, always doing what makes you feel good. He's not acting like his usual self. He's not selfish, he's not seeing this as a quick way to get off then say goodbye. All you could do in that moment is not give him attention, make him feel indifferent but instead you want more of him and it pissing him off because he wants more too.
"I want to cum inside you so bad." he let his thoughts out, too lost on how wet your pussy was, leaking out so much that it got on his dick without doing anything.
"Don't." you shook your head, not wanting to deal with any surprises.
He let you have unnecessary request, and yet he's not allowed that much? Perhaps you're the greedier one here. And he too can be mean.
Without much warning, he smashed his lips against yours, devouring you as his cock rubbed against you harder, in a much friendless pace. Trying to suck the soul out of you, muffling any sounds you might let out.
One of his hands on the side of your thigh, rubbing it up and down and sending chills down your spine. His tongue in your mouth and you can't hold it together for much longer.
Wrapping your hands around him, you left out a broken whine, that only got to him. You were so close to your release, he could practically pull that orgasm out of you if he's trying a little bit harder. But he'll be merciful tonight, mostly because he'll lose his mind if he doesn't.
You didn't lasted much longer, and seeing you cum makes him want to cum. And man, he came all over your belly, breathing heavily and resting his head against your shoulder.
"You did good." you said, going with your hand through his hair.
For a moment, he allowed you to praise him, closing his eyes and bathing in your scent and you kept petting him. But it didn't lasted for long because he came back to his senses, getting off you and helping you clean yourself.
He still can't believe he came that hard from nothing. If he stayed in your arms for any more longer he would have screw everything up. Even if he wants to leave you alone, run out your room and don't look back at it at least until tomorrow, he stayed. Watching you fall asleep before he left quietly, doing the walk of shame to his room and rethinking his whole life and everything he did wrong until then.
#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#gojo satoru#gojo satoru smut#gojo smut#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#geto smut#geto suguru#geto suguru smut#jjk geto#suguru geto#geto x reader#gojou satoru x reader#jjk gojo#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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TLOU fic: See Me After
Merry Christmas @auteurdelabre! I'm your Secret Santa for this year's @pedrostories exchange and I have a little gift for you 🥰 Most of my writing is light and fluffy so it was a fun challenge to get a prompt like forbidden relationships and figure out how to spin it, haha. I had already been thinking about sex pollen and then you told me you love that trope, so here we are. I hope you enjoy this, and that you have a very happy holiday!
Title: See Me After Pairing: Joel/f!Reader Rating: Explicit Word count: 2.4k Content/warnings: Pre-series, reader is Sarah's teacher and around Joel's age. Sex pollen, masturbation, sex, breaking of school district policy on multiple levels lol. Unbetaed but thanks as always to @fleetwoodmactshirt and @mourningbirds1 for their invaluable advice and cheerleading.
Mrs. Taylor, the third grade math teacher, had told you about the fraternization policy your first week at the school—and the incident back in ’97 that necessitated it in the first place.
“I’ll tell you what,” she’d said conspiratorially, “I’m not so sure it would’ve made it into the handbook if the dad Miss Kayla was stepping out with didn’t happen to be married to the PTA president’s sister.”
But he had been, and it’s there now in black and white on page 16 of the packet you’d received from HR: District Policy 3A(1) On fraternization with students’ family members. In short, dating parents is not allowed.
Amid lesson plans and curriculum revision, dating is the last thing on your mind anyway and you don’t think much about it beyond the opportunity for break room gossip. You’re too busy learning the ropes at a new school, and when the weekends come you’re focused on getting your laundry done and seeing your friends. Romance falls by the wayside and you barely miss it.
Then the fall term starts, and Sarah Miller joins your class.
Mr. Miller is one of the most attractive men you’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s all broad shoulders and deep brown eyes, thick hair falling in soft curls over his forehead and a comfortable Texan accent from his mouth. He repeats your name as you shake hands and between his deep voice and the large, calloused hand firmly gripping yours, you feel your knees start to buckle and you know you’re fucked.
A little fantasy never hurt anybody. There’s no District Policy 3A(2) On fantasizing about that one hot dad. This is what you tell yourself at the end of Curriculum Night, after you’ve gone home and showered and climbed into bed, ready to decompress from meeting every new student and their parents in one whirlwind evening.
What were those hands so big for if not to imagine how they’d cup your hips, how firmly they’d grip your thighs and part them to discover you? Why have a voice that deep, that little bit rough around the edges, if not to hear it moan in your ear and tell you, come on, baby, just like that?
You don’t mean for it to turn into a fixation. It’s just an easy, unattainable fantasy. Cooking him dinner and him thanking you by fucking you on the kitchen table, coaxing a new orgasm from you until you’re so wrung out he needs to help you to bed. Him picking you up in his truck and driving you somewhere quiet, like two teenagers sneaking off, straddling him in the cramped space to ride his hand, and the beard burn you get on your neck doesn’t even sting. It’s a dopamine boost.
Sarah’s dad is kind of a dick.
You catch him outside on a Friday, waiting to pick up his daughter after school. He’s leaning against the door of his truck, arms crossed over his chest, sunglasses hiding his eyes. You try not to let your gaze linger too long on his biceps and how his t-shirt sleeves strain to contain them.
“Mr. Miller.”
He starts when you greet him and you wonder if he’d been dozing behind the shades, despite the cacophony of schoolchildren spilling out onto the sidewalk around you. But he gives you a polite nod in return.
“I just wanted to remind you of the parent volunteer opportunities for this year,” you say, holding out a printed flyer.
He accepts the paper, glances down at it, and grimaces like you’ve asked him to sign up for a root canal.
“Thanks.” He doesn’t crumple the paper but he drops it through the open window of his truck onto the passenger seat, where you imagine it getting lost amid the standard car detritus of fast food napkins and gas station receipts.
You wait a beat, but he doesn’t say anything more.
“Okay, well. Have a good weekend,” you tell him. He nods again, silently, and you think his eyes have probably already shut again as you turn to go. But then you hear a quiet, “you too,” like an afterthought, and for some reason—insanity, perhaps—you feel a blush rising to your cheeks as you walk away.
That night, he turns a little mean. Selfish. He puts you on your knees at his feet, offers you his dick to suck, teases his foot between your legs so you can grind against his shoe for relief. You press hard against your clit and focus on his cock, imagining how he’d fill your mouth, salt-skin-heat on your tongue, and it’s mortifying how quickly it makes you come, alone and muffled against your pillow.
There’s a rumor going around school that the fifth grade chemistry teacher, Mrs. Fontaine, is a witch. If it’s true, she must be one of the good ones, because she’s only ever been nice to you.
It’s a Tuesday and you come across her in the break room, perusing a newspaper and drinking coffee out of a mug decorated with a black cat. She’s never seemed too concerned with dispelling the rumors.
“Ah, here,” she says, nodding hello as you head to the fridge. “Your horoscope. What you are dreaming of will find you, whether or not you think you’re ready for it. Embrace your destiny, even if it means breaking a few rules.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Breaking rules? Are you sure you’ve got the right sign?” you joke.
She laughs knowingly. “The stars are telling you to let loose; maybe you should listen.”
“Maybe these celestial bodies don’t really know my business,” you counter. Mrs. F just shakes her head, like you’re the one being silly here.
Sarah’s dad blows off your scheduled parent-teacher meeting and sends her uncle in his place.
It makes you prickle with irritation.
Tommy Miller is nice enough. He’s younger than you, and a natural flirt, quick with a smile and a polite yes or no, ma’am when you ask him a question. He also has no idea what subject you teach or which grade Sarah is in, but he seems sincerely pleased to hear she’s doing well in your class, and he promises to share your report with her father, who will definitely, definitely follow up.
You’re not holding your breath.
In the final week of the semester, Sarah hands you an envelope on her way to her seat. Your name is scratched on the front in boxy letters. Inside, the note reads:
I’m sorry I missed our one-on-one. I had a work project go overtime and couldn’t get away. Thanks for meeting with Tommy instead. He told me Sarah is keeping up and about your reccomendation for the competition. That’s very cool.
I know you all want parents to volunteer. Ain’t nobody wants to eat my bake sale cupcakes but if you have anything that needs fixed around the classroom I can do that for you. Tommy mentioned there was some loose tile by the door.
Call me to schedule it and I’ll show up this time, promise.
-Joel
The promise gets you. You sigh, thinking you might forgive him after all, and get started jotting down a list of the loose tiles and crooked cabinet doors your maintenance guy has been ignoring for the past year.
He shows up in a tool belt and work boots, on Saturday morning as you’d arranged. The building is deserted and it’s almost serene walking through the empty hallways, silent but for the click of your shoes and the heavy tread of his.
You feel slightly self-conscious, being alone with him in person after all the time you’ve spent with the thought of him in private, but you try your best to push that down so you can appear professional.
Mr. Miller—Joel—seems at ease, rambling about the history of the district school buildings’ retrofits and how many decades it’s been since they’ve been properly updated. It’s endearingly uninteresting, reminding you of countless students who have subjected you to impromptu lectures on their own special interests over the years, and you’re biting back a smile by the time you reach your own classroom.
He takes in the room with an expert’s eye, systematically going through the list you’d made him and making notes to himself, finally tucking his pencil behind his ear for safekeeping when he’s done.
You’ve got your own list to get through, to close out the term and ready for the upcoming one—lesson plans to print and organize, task cards to laminate, books to sort in the classroom library as you swap out this year’s unit for the next. You busy yourself while he gets to work and there’s a companionable silence in the room, broken by the shuffle of papers and books on your end, hammering and the occasional muttered curse word from his.
You allow yourself to watch him when his back is turned. You watch his back, in fact—the sturdy slope of it down to the little patch of bare skin that reveals itself when he reaches forward and his shirt rides up. His skin looks soft. Lush, you think, and you luxuriate in the vision of him until you realize you’re biting your lip and force yourself to snap out of it and get back to alphabetizing.
Coming to a break, you stand up and stretch, then slip off your shoes and wiggle your toes. Yesterday, Mrs. Fontaine had dropped off a tin of cookies and in the rush of wishing your students a happy break, you’d forgotten to grab them on your way out. They’re still sitting on the corner of your desk, and you perch next to them and open the box.
“Cookie?” you offer. “My co-worker made them.”
Joel has been re-hanging cupboard doors to make them sit straight, and he looks up from his screwdriver. “Thanks.”
He washes his hands with care at the corner sink and comes to settle by your side, a respectful distance away. You munch on the cookies, looking around the room to admire his work. The changes are subtle, but for as many hours as you’ve spent in this room, they stand out to you. Little things like the cupboard doors closing properly, and the wooden border around your white board looking good as new instead of cracked along the edge.
“It looks great,” you tell him. “I appreciate your work.”
He shrugs, like it’s nothing, but you see the smile on his face and can tell he’s happy you’re pleased.
It hits you first, you think. The strangest sensation, like a ripple through your body awakening every nerve.
“I feel…” you start, unsure.
What is it you feel?
You look at him and you watch as it strikes him too, as his jaw drops and his breathing goes shallow.
Your body feels drawn to his like there’s a magnet pulling you in. The air is suddenly thick, sticky with arousal brewing between you. Your eyes are locked with his and you see his pupils dilate, his gaze turning heavy with intent.
“Maybe we just… need some fresh air,” you suggest. It’s a struggle to turn from him to walk to the door and when you reach it your body aches. You look back at him, seeing the pained expression on his face and how tightly his fingers are gripping the edge of the desk. Your eyes drop—you can’t help it—to see the bulge in his jeans, and as if your body has taken over all decision-making, your fingers reach past the knob to engage the lock instead.
He kisses how you thought he would. Intense and focused. But his hands are nicer, gentler, than in your imagination. They smooth over your curves, settle on your back and your ass to pull you closer, into the space between his legs. His arms are a solid grip around you and your body melts against his until he’s the only thing holding you up.
He turns the two of you around so you can sit on the desk while he stands over you, panting when your lips break apart.
“I’ve never felt like this,” he whispers. “I feel—I need—”
He kisses you desperately and slides his hands under your shirt. The touch of his fingers on your body is like a dam breaking; now that you’ve felt it you need every inch of his skin against yours. Your hands knock as you rush to remove each others’ clothes, and it would be almost comical if you didn’t feel like you might die without him inside you soon.
He’s nudging his cock at your entrance, a spellbound, breath-held silence between you and a wanting ache in your gut.
“Please,” you whisper. It was chilly this morning but now you’re flushed with heat. His skin is glowing with sweat—it almost distracts you, noticing how the hard angle of his collarbone is softened by the sheen of it. You lean forward, set your mouth to his skin to taste him, and he groans.
He grinds against you, the thick length of him riding over your cunt. It feels like a tease, but it’s not; he’s holding himself back.
“Tell me you want it,” he breathes.
“Joel,” you moan. “Please. I want you.”
Your body arches as his cock drives you open, pleasure buzzing through your veins. He bows his head, mouth at your neck, the soft scratch of his beard pressing into your skin. With a gasping breath, he murmurs, “I wanted you—all this time,” and you think you might see stars.
You ignore the phone ringing, but when the answering machine switches on and you hear the urgency in your friend’s voice, you reluctantly drag yourself to the kitchen to pick up.
“Tell me you didn’t eat those cookies,” Mrs. Fontaine says.
You open your mouth, wondering what you should say, but she barrels on without you, explaining the mix-up with the special batch she’d made for date night with her husband and how she’s only just realized the mistake, and maybe she’s making a big deal out of nothing but you didn’t eat the cookies yet, did you?
You look up and see Joel leaning in the doorway to your bedroom, naked but for a pair of shorts, and abruptly you decide you don’t have time for this conversation.
“You know what? I’m gonna have to call you back,” you tell her, and with that, you hang up the phone.
#my fic#joel miller x reader#the last of us fanfiction#pedrostoriesgift24#pedrostories#joel miller#pedro pascal#fanfiction
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒✮
"𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧. 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰. 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐘𝐨𝐮!"
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
Pairing: Monster trio! x reader!
Prompt: The gifts you give to the trio and the gifts they'd give you!
Warnings: just mostly fluff and fun
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮
𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘
I feel like Luffy would treasure anything you gave him, like how he is with his hat
So he wouldn't mind whatever you got him and didn't understand why you got so stressed when it came to you getting him a gift
So on Christmas he was excited to see what you got him munching on gingerbread man
He absolutely SUCKS at getting someone a gift
He would think it a good gift and honestly you don't have the heart to tell him it's bad
Once you both exchanged gifts he had a bright gleam in his eye as he watched you open your gift
His grin grew much wider as you smiled at the small necklace he got you it had a little 'L' on it (Nami totally didn't throw away his gift and switch it out)
He hurried and unwrapped his gift his grin dropping as he sees a framed picture of him and his brothers, and two necklaces one with your first initial and the other one with the initials 'ASL'
You were worried you may have made him upset but when his arms wrapped around you tightly you smile as he tackled you into a hug, comedic tears running down his face
"Th-This is the best gift ever!" he shouted smushing his cheek against yours
Safe to say he liked your gift
𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎
I can't see Zoro as someone who gives thoughtful gifts, like at all...
He would "gift" whatever he found laying around
No joke he literally got you one of his weights put it in a lazily wrapped box and handed it over to you
It wasn't until AFTER Nami cracked her fist over his head that he started putting in more effort but ONLY for you
He would be stuck and would need help from Nami and Robin to get you a gift
But it wasn't of much help Nami spouting "get them something pretty! Or expensive!" and Robin stating "Get them something they like, or something with important meaning"
So he left the women figuring they wouldn't be of much help
And don't get me wrong he would know everything you liked and dislike
He heard alll your long rambles about what you enjoyed, what you hated, your favorite food, favorite drink everything and you would never know
Which is the only reason he was so stumped, he knew too much now he didn't know what to get at all so he bought literally everything he thought you would like hoping it would make you happy.
Now you on the other hand already knew what to get him, but luck wasn't really wasn't on your side as you made your way down to a shop in town but some petty thugs tried to rob you but you weren't fazed even in the slightest you just wanted to get back to the ship
But these guys really made it hard for you, they just kept pestering you, and it's not like you could do much because you left your weapon back on the ship
Zoro leaving a store, had spotted you being surrounded by some random men
He dropped the many boxes and bags seemingly appearing behind the men and cutting them down with ease
You smiled at him throwing your arms around his shoulders "my hero!"
Zoro pretended not to be fazed by your words but the small smile said otherwise
Later he showed you the gifts he got you but you sighed leaning on him "oh you're the best gift I could ask for" you said placing a little bow on his head
"So does that mean I can take all this stuff back?"
"No♡"
𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈
Tried to get you a ring.
I'm not kidding, he would be dead set on proposing to you, but when Robin said that'd be to much he dropped that plan, (he still kept the ring....just in case)
I could see him as someone who thinks too much about what to get you
It was very tiring for him so settled for something nice, something he was good at, cooking. Cooking like a little fancy dinner for the two of you
But that plan was also shot down when you trotted into the kitchen dressed in a cute Santa outfit while he was trying to cook
Coming up behind him, he knew you were there BUT he didn't know you were gonna touch him so he did a little when you wrapped your arms around his torso pressing your cheek again his back
He froze in his spot as if he had turned to stone, you peeked around him "Merry Christmas honey" you muttered sliding a box next to him, he could feel his heart rate increase as he heard your voice
Slowly turning to face you he knew he'd be blinded by your beauty but this! As soon as he laid eyes on you it was over
Falling back he kicked the bucket blood gushing from his nose
You only sighed at his antics as you went and got chopper
Upon waking up Sanji looked around "maybe it was just a dream..."
Oh but it wasn't looking to his right he saw a medium sized box on his nightstand
Placing it in his lap he saw a little note on top that read 'Hope you like love you!'
He smiled at the note and set it aside opening the box he was stunned on top there was a heart shaped locket, opening it it was a picture of you and him his smile grew bigger as he looked through the rest of the box, it was filled with memories of you and him mostly different photos
One stood out though, it was a picture of you and him, you were hugging his side and kissing his cheek as his face was beat red
Holding the picture close to his chest he smiled
You really were his one true love.
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮
A/n: I'm so mad I couldn't put this out on Christmas RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhh
#fem reader#one piece x reader#sub one piece#luffy x reader#zoro x reader#black leg sanji#monkey d. luffy#one piece#one piece luffy#roronoa zoro#zoro roronoa x reader#luffy x you#one piece smut#straw hat pirates#fluff fic#fluff headcanons#fluff prompts#one shot#one piece fluff#gn reader#male reader#christmas#happy holidays
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Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P7
pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader
summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?
a/n: MERRY CHRISTMAS MY SEXYS!!!!!!! For the holidays thought I'd ramp things up, Let's see, Y/n's a bit of a diva in this tbh, she's a little cheeky, get it ig she's just a girl after all. Midsummer's is well underway, little feature from the gangs group chat and y/n and rafe? well cue careless whisper and shut your eyes *wink wink nudge nudge*. I've never actually written smut before so cut me some slack but it's lowkey inspired by Chappell's 'Picture You' iygwim... Love you all so so so much, enjoy and have a great holiday!!!!!!!!!!
warnings: nsfw! smut, self pleasure (rafe), kinda pervy rafe? (idk idk don't shoot me) dismissive mother figure (y/n lowkey got mommy issues ngl), drugs, smoking, alcohol, driving under the influence, suggestive behaviour (y/n).
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Midsummers was lingering around the corner, Y/n pacing at her front door anxiously as she waited for the courier, peering out the window by the door in hopes of sighting the van pulling up by the gates. If he didn’t show up in the next five minutes she was going to have a meltdown. Her phone ringing loudly made her jump, she looked down to the device vibrating on the counter as she picked it up the name ‘Rafey’ shining up at her,
“Hey Princess”
Rafe was sat in his room, lounging back on his bed, mindlessly staring up at the ceiling fan which was revolving in slow turns. It was Midsummers today, and he was feeling antsy, knowing he needed to get a gift for the girl, he wanted to get her the best gift possible, their little tradition starting when he got her a small bouquet of flowers a few years ago, he liked to say that it was her early birthday present, but it was truly just an excuse for him to get her something. Of course this year it had to be better, after the night a few days ago, after his.. realisation that the girl was more than just a ‘best-friend’, he knew the evening was his chance to talk to her.
If that's what you wanna call it then-
Y/n pressed the phone to her ear, her voice slightly breathless as she answered, “Hey, what’s up?”
“Where are you?” Rafe’s voice rang out over the phone, straight to the point as usual.
“At home. Waiting for the courier.” She started pacing again, one hand holding the phone, the other tugging nervously at the hem of her shirt as she started to ramble.
“They’re late, and if they don’t show up soon, I’m screwed. I need this dress or I’m literally not coming. I’m not coming Rafe -do you know how embarrassing it would be to wear the sam-“
“Relax,” Rafe said, his tone steady but with the faintest hint of amusement. “You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.”
“I can’t relax!” she snapped, her frustration spilling over. “Do you know how much this means? If I don’t have it ready by tonight-”
“I know, I know,” he interrupted, the girl was prone to overthinking, his voice softening. “It's a big deal. You’ve been talking about it non-stop for the past two weeks but freaking out isn’t going to help.”
Y/n groaned, slumping against the wall near her door. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one on the verge of public humiliation.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, then he spoke again, quieter this time.
“What’s really going on..?”
She hesitated, her fingers tightening around the phone. She opened her mouth to respond, but the sound of a car pulling up outside made her stop. Her head whipped toward the window, and she exhaled in relief.
“Courier’s here,” she said quickly. “I gotta go.”
“Y/n—” Rafe started, but she hung up before he could finish.
Whoopsies
Fucking brat
She shoved the phone into her pocket and opened the door, stepping out onto the porch as the courier climbed out of their van. The man carried a medium-sized box toward her, looking apologetic.
“Sorry for the delay,” the courier said, handing it over.
“It’s fine, thank you.” Y/n muttered, clutching the package to her chest like it was a lifeline. She watched the courier leave before heading back inside, shutting the door behind her. Her phone buzzed again, and she pulled it out to see another call from Rafe. She sighed, debating whether to answer. Part of her wanted to ignore it and focus on the package, but the other part of her knew Rafe wouldn’t just let it go -he was probably going to scold her for hanging up.
“Hi, again-”
“-Don’t ‘hi’ me,”
Rafe shot back. “You hung up on me. What’s going on?”
The girl sat down on the couch, setting the box beside her. She took a deep breath. “It’s just… a lot, okay? Everything has to be perfect tomorrow, and mom’s been on my back about it and I’m scared I’ll mess it up.” She trailed off, biting her lip.
“Right” Rafe spoke out, though she could already hear the knowing tone creeping into his voice.
“Shut up,” she mumbled, though her cheeks were already burning, she felt embarrassed she was so bothered,
Always overthinking
Just a dumb party
“Listen,” Rafe said, his tone turning serious again. “You’ve been stressing yourself out, I get it—you want to impress everyone.”
She didn’t answer, but the silence spoke volume.
“Y/n, you’re already... pretty amazing,” he continued. “You don’t need some big, grand gesture to prove that.” His words caught her off guard, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. Finally, she whispered,
“Thanks, Rafe.”
“Anytime,” he said lightly. “Now go open that box and finish whatever masterpiece you’re working on. And stop overthinking.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, a small smile creeping onto her face. “Talk later?”
“Always,” he replied before hanging up. Y/n set the phone down, staring at the box beside her. Rafe’s words lingered in her mind as she reached for it opening it, fingers sliding over the soft silky material.
You better look good bitch
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The girl sat at her vanity, dabbing a final touch of highlighter onto her cheekbones, as her hands moved down to tighten the belt around her waist of the fuzzy robe she had on. The soft music filled the background as she admired the dress hanging nearby, waiting to be put on. She picked up her phone, her fingers tapped against the screen, nails causing little clicks to rise into the air of the room, mixing in with the soft sound of the music playing in the background. She typed to the group chat,
Princess. : Lowkey might be late …
She hesitated for a moment, then hit send, her phone buzzed almost immediately.
Young Rich & Sexy (1 unread message)
Rafey : u got ur whole life planned out to the minute tf u mean ur late
Princess : Fashionably ofc
Kels : Why are you such a
Kelc : Wait what is it she says
T-man : Diva
Kels : Yeah
Kels : Why are you being a diva
Princess : You guys are so dramatic. I’m just finishing up, okay?
T-man : Nah
Rafey : “finishing up” means ur still running around in a robe and slippers
Princess : It’s nothing!!!
Princess : Just running a little behind
Rafey : Oh, so you’re spiralling
T-man : Got it
Kels : How many outfit changes are we at? Three? Four?
T-man : Five Minimum
Princess : I hate all of you
Rafey : Big words.
Rafey : Are you actually leaving, though?
Kels : Yeah, just get here before Rafe starts flirting with himself in the mirror
Rafey : Shut up
Rafey : At least I don’t take an hour deciding on a bowtie like you
Kels : ...
Kels : Fuck you
T-man : Y/n, this is what happens when you’re not around to keep us in line
Princess : Are you guys drinking already?
Rafe : Yes
Kels : No
T-man : Yes
Kels : Oh
Kels : Yes?
Kels : BAHAHAHAH
Princess : You’re all hopeless
She grabbed her clutch and slipped her phone into it, giving herself one final once-over in the mirror before heading out the door of her bedroom to meet her parents downstairs. The group chat continued buzzing, but she ignored it, feet padding down the stairs to slip on her heels.
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The driver eased the car to a smooth stop in front of the country club, a line of luxury cars wound behind them, each filled with kooks dressed to the nines, ready to celebrate… what was it again?
Something about tradition, about status-
She stepped out of the car, the setting sun warm against her skin as she adjusted her dress. She followed closely behind her parents, her father offering a polite nod to the valet while her mother stepped forward, her sharp eyes scanning the scene. Before the girl could take another step toward the entrance, her mother’s hand landed lightly on her arm, stopping her in her tracks. Y/N turned, surprised by the tight grip and the serious expression etched on her mother’s face.
“Wait,” Marie said in a hushed tone, her voice low but firm enough to cut through the murmurs of the other guests near the entrance. She straightened, smoothing an invisible crease on her dress before turning her full attention to her daughter. Y/N raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
Her mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I want to remind you to be on your best behaviour tonight.”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m always on my best behaviour.”
“Don’t be clever,” her mother snapped quietly, her tone just sharp enough to sting. “This isn’t just some casual get-together. It’s important. People are watching, Y/N. People who matter.” She emphasised to the girl.
Classic
“Watching for what, exactly?” Y/N shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“To see if I chew with my mouth closed or if I trip on my heels?”
Her mother’s jaw tightened. “To see if you’re worthy of standing in this room. To see if you reflect the family we’ve worked hard to build. You think reputation doesn’t matter, but it does. It matters more than you realise.”
Y/N crossed her arms, her posture defiant. “Right, because it’s all about what they think, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” her mother said sharply, her eyes narrowing.
“You don’t have to like it, but you will respect it. Your father and I have done everything to ensure we’re respected. I won’t have you undo it with some thoughtless remark or petty argument.”
Y/N clenched her jaw, biting back the words bubbling on her tongue. She hated these conversations- hated being reminded that she wasn’t just herself but an extension of her family’s carefully constructed image. Her mother’s gaze softened slightly, but her voice remained steady.
“This isn’t just about us, Y/N. One day, it will matter for you, too. You’ll see that eventually.”
Before Y/N could respond, her father’s voice cut through the tension. “Are we going in, or are we standing out here all night hmm?” The man could never notice the tension between the two women, he only saw his caring wife and sweet daughter. He leant down pressing a kiss to his wife’s cheek before wrapping his hand around Y/n’s waist pulling her towards him holding both women closely, “my girls.”
Her mother straightened, her composure snapping back, she gave Y/N a once-over, her expression unreadable, before turning toward the entrance taking her husbands hand and walking with him. The man turned his head back shortly, sending a wink in the girls direction, her fathers action brought a small smile to her face. With a deep breath, she pushed her frustration from her mother comments aside and followed her parents into the club, the sound of clinking glasses and polite laughter greeting them as the door swung open.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The scent of champagne and roses hung heavy in the air as Y/N stepped further inside, clutching the stem of a freshly poured flute. She felt the weight of eyes on her as she moved through the room, the navy fabric skimmed her body, hugging her waist before cascading to the floor in soft ripples. It was all so curated, so polished, but Y/N barely registered the scene. Not until her eyes landed on Rafe. He was standing near the bar, leaning casually against the counter, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His sharp jawline caught the light as he turned slightly, his shoulders broad under the perfectly tailored suit jacket he wore.
As if sensing her gaze, he looked up. Their eyes met for a split second, his brow raising slightly as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
His grip on the glass tightened as he straightened subtly, his attention narrowing entirely on Y/N as she entered the room. She was impossible to miss, even in the crowd. The navy satin of her dress shimmered under the light. His eyes trailed upward, catching on the delicate V of the neckline that framed her collarbones, which glowed faintly with a soft sheen. Her hair, threaded with tiny white flowers, was swept back to reveal the curve of her neck. She looked…
Wow
His throat felt dry.
Rafe’s gaze followed her as she moved toward the bar, her posture poised but relaxed, her fingers curling around a champagne flute. As she made her way towards the boy, she noticed Topper and Kelce standing behind him, eyeing up a group of girls giggling by the tables.
“Surpriseeee.”
She sang out as she did a little spin in front of the boy, the silk swaying with her. “Only,” she looks over to the clock on the wall, “15 minutes late.”
His eyes ran down over her body as her movement, a little smirk on his face before he chuckled at her comment,
“15 minutes? Might as well have not showed” He teased her as he tilted his head, looking down at her once again.
“Asshole.” She mutters out shoving his shoulder slightly before she looked over at him.
Damn
“You look good,” she spoke genuinely, her hand coming out to smooth down the blazer she’d shifted as she pushed him, she spoke playfully,
“handsome.”
He watched her as she smoothed the non-existent wrinkles in his blazer, his heart faltering at her compliment.
Handsome huh?
“You look….you look beautiful Y/n” He spoke out quietly, leaning in a little closer to her, his eyes roaming over her face.
A pink hue lifted to her cheeks at his words as her hand trailed down from his chest where she’d smoothed the blazer out, down his arm, to his hand, where her fingers brushed against his, a warm feeling settled in his stomach as her fingers danced over his hand.
“Thanks.” She spoke out quietly. Their moment was interrupted by the sound of a wolf whistle, Topper and Kelce stumbling over towards them as they looked Y/n.
“Kook Princess does it again!”
“Looking good.”
Kelce and Topper speak out to her, both stepping forward, one placing a kiss on her cheek as the other wraps his arms around her in a hug.
“You look like you just stepped out of a magazine. Like, one of those fancy ones with the shiny covers.” Kelce started to babble, Topper following soon after,
“Like the ones you collect what are they cal-“
“Vogue?” The girl asked amused smile on her face at their antics.
“Fuck yeah you look fresh out of Vogue.” Kelce spoke with a shake of his head.
Never heard that one before
“You two always know how to make a girl feel special.” She shot them a playful wink of her own, clearly unbothered by their banter.
“Well I’d hope all those hours of getting ready weren't for nothing.”
She speaks as she looks over to the group of girls huddling together, a hushed giggle breaking out as Topper and Kelce turn around to look at them, one of the girls lifting her hand and wiggling her fingers in a small wave. She spoke to the two boys as Rafe watched, leaning back against the bar counter,
“But you guys clean up well, heard you’ve been turning heads tonight..”
“More like giving head..”
The girls eyes widen as she lets out a loud laugh hand coming up to cover her mouth.
“Are you being for real?” She whispers out in a hush as the boy next to her shrugs his shoulder in a nonchalant manner a smirk rising to his face, she pushes Kelce away from her, his hand dropping from her waist,
“Ew you freak” she giggled as she shakes her head.
The boys rambled to each other defensively as she shook her head rolling her eyes at them turning back to Rafe. Y/N reached up absentmindedly to adjust her necklace, a habit she couldn’t seem to shake, only to freeze when her fingers brushed against bare skin. Her brow furrowed as she searched for the familiar chain, but it wasn’t there.
Shit
“I forgot my necklace.” She spoke out frown on her face.
Rafe, who had been watching her from the corner of his eye, leaned in with a teasing smile, the missing chain on her neck was one of the first thing’s he’d noticed when she’d gotten closer to him.
"You wear it everyday? How’d you forget it tonight"
"I don’t know. I just got distracted.” She shrugged as hint of disappointment in her tone.
Rafe’s smile softened, and he raised an eyebrow.
Perfect
“Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”
“What is it?”
Y/N glanced up at him, surprised her head tilting slightly.
He flashed her a grin “C'mon," he said, gently taking her hand.
"Follow me."
The girl slipped her hand into the crook of his arm which he held out for her as he led her away from the main group, stepping out from under the harsh lights and into the quieter side of the party, where the music felt distant and the crowd’s chatter muffled. She followed him curiously, the sound of her heels tapping against the floor drowned out by the thrum of the distant bass. When they reached a secluded corner, Rafe pulled away from her and slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his blazer. Y/N raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued.
“Here.”
He pulled out a small, velvet blue box, holding it out to her.
“It’s your Midsummer’s present."
Y/N blinked, taken aback. "What?" She hadn't been expecting anything, especially not tonight.
What-
Rafe’s smile was genuine, one that didn’t appear often.
“Our tradition? We’ve been doing this for years, -yeah well I have I guess"
Y/N’s heart fluttered in her chest. A small gift- something thoughtful, not extravagant, but always meaningful. And somehow, she’d forgotten about it this year, she’d been so fussed with her dress and her mother, the boy being occupied with his family's business, she didn’t think Rafe would bother this year.
Her fingers brushed over the soft velvet as she took the box from him, her heart skipping a beat as she opened it. Inside lay a dainty, golden necklace, delicate but elegant, with a tiny heart-shaped pendant hanging from it. The pendant was engraved with their initials-
Y/N . R
Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at it for a moment, a soft smile tugging at her lips. The necklace was beautiful, but what really moved her was the thought behind it. It was a symbol of their years of friendship, of the connection they shared that went beyond just tradition.
"Rafe… this is…" She looked up at him, her voice soft with gratitude. “It’s perfect.”
“Yeah? You like it”
"I love it Rafe seriously.”
Y/N held the small velvet box in her hands, her fingers still lingering over the necklace inside. Rafe stood in front of her, a soft smile on his lips, watching her with a quiet intensity that made her heart race. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but something about the way he was looking at her made the whole moment feel different—more meaningful than it was in the past years when he’d given her presents.
He smiled, his gaze tender. “I’m glad you like it.”
She nodded, the gesture simple but meaningful. She felt a lump form in her throat, a surge of warmth filling her chest. “Thank you.” She closed the box and stepped forward, pulling him into a tight hug. “Really. I love it.” Rafe returned the hug, his hands resting gently on her back. When she pulled away, he held her at arm's length, a playful glint in his eyes.
“Want me to put it on for you?”
Y/N laughed softly, feeling a mix of warmth and comfort from his presence. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Without breaking eye contact, Rafe gently took the necklace from the box, the soft gold chain catching the light as he held it in his hands. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he was savouring every moment. He stepped a little closer, and Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart fluttering in her chest. She felt his warmth before she even saw him move, the proximity suddenly making the air around them feel heavier, charged with something unspoken. His hands were steady, sure, but there was a tenderness to them as they reached out, the chain dangling between his fingers.
Rafe’s fingers gently grazed the back of her neck as he moved to place the necklace around her, his touch barely there but still enough to send a shiver down her spine. She held her breath for a moment, feeling the heat of his skin against hers, the soft brush of his fingertips making her skin tingle.
There was something so simple, so intimate about it.
"Hold still," he murmured, barely audible.
She felt the coolness of the chain against her skin, and then, the soft click of the clasp as he fastened it around her neck.
“There,” he said, his voice low but warm. “Perfect.”
When he stepped back, his gaze never leaving hers, Y/N’s heart was still pounding in her chest. She touched the pendant, feeling the cool gold between her fingers, but her mind was still caught on the feel of his touch.
“You look beautiful,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.
“Rafe,” she said, her voice thick with emotion she hadn’t expected to feel.
“This… this means so much.”
"I’m happy," he began, his voice lower than usual, as he fidgeted with the cuff of his blazer.
"I didn’t know what to get you this year, so-“
“You didn’t need to get me anything.’
“-I wanted to.”
He swallowed hard, trying to gather his thoughts. He hesitated as he looked at her, the necklace catching the light, glimmering as it rested against her skin. His bowtie suddenly felt awfully tight his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips, his breath feeling short. His shaky hand raised to his neck, finger shoving between his shirt and neck to loosen the material. Standing there right in front of him, he couldn't look away from her. His gaze lingered on her, a mix of admiration and something deeper—something he had been fighting to ignore for a long time. His heart was thudding so harshly against his chest he felt like he was going to pass out, he stepped just a little closer, his breath catching in his throat.
Say it now
He needed to.
“Y/N,” he started again, his voice quieter, but no less intense, he hesitated, his pulse racing as his eyes met hers.
"I lo—"
“Y/N!”
He jerked his head up, the words dying on his lips as he looked toward the source of the loud voice.
Wheezie yelled out as she pranced over to the girl happily wide smile on her face, Y/n’s head turned to look to her arms reaching out to catch the younger girl who’d bounded straight into her arms.
Fuck
Y/N’s expression softened immediately, and before she could even say a word, Wheezie was already wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist, pulling her into a tight hug. Y/N let out a strained laugh and returned the hug.
Any time but now...
“Y/N!” Wheezie squealed, her voice full of excitement. “I missed you so much! I haven't seen you in like forever!”
Rafe stood there, frozen, watching them. His heart thudded heavily in his chest, the weight of the moment hanging thick in the air between them. His confession- his almost confession- had been so close.
So close, in fact, that it almost felt like it was still hanging there, unspoken.
Y/N smiled down at Wheezie, her arms around her tightly. "I know, I’ve missed you too, Wheezie," she said warmly.
"Things have been a little busy lately,” her eyes glanced over to Rafe as she spoke out. The boy cleared his throat, trying to shake off the tension, obvious to his sister. His eyes flicked from Wheezie back to Y/N, the opportunity was gone now.
The words he had almost said to her- words that had been building in him for weeks, months even- seemed to slip away, lost in the noise of the party around them.
He gave a tight smile, feeling a mixture of frustration and amusement. "Yeah," he said, trying to sound casual, even though his voice felt heavier than usual.
"Real busy."
Y/N, sensing the shift in the air, gave him a small but reassuring smile. She knew him too well, probably more than anyone else did. Wheezie ignored their silent interaction, eyes wide with excitement.
“You will not believe what I just found out!” She looked back and forth between them.
Rafe groaned at his sister.
Fucks sake
“Wheezie, not now…”
“You know Audrey and Max? They’re hooking up! For real!” She threw her hands up dramatically, as if she announced the discovery of the century.
“I heard them talking at the bar. They think they’re being all secretive, but—hello?!
Y/N’s brows furrowed slightly as she processed the gossip, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “Wait, seriously?”
“I was like, what? Audrey and Max? So sneaky!” Wheezie shook her head. The younger girl smiled smugly, then turned her attention to Rafe, who was standing there, still trying to regain his bearings. She raised an eyebrow, noticing the odd tension hanging in the air.
“What’s going on here?” she asked with a sly grin.
“Are you two like, having a moment?”
Rafe blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift in focus. His heart was still racing and now, his younger sister was teasing him about it. He forced a smile, shaking his head slightly.
“No, just… catching up,” he said, his voice a little more strained than usual.
Wheezie raised an eyebrow, her playful expression shifting to something more teasing, glancing back and forth between them. She squinted at them, clearly working out what she thought was going on.
“Are you guys fuc-”
Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly,
Uh-
“What!? No, we’re just…” She stumbled over her words, clearly trying to keep things casual.
“Wheezie, don’t be ridiculous.” Rafe spoke out to the girl in a disapproving tone.
Really not helping here.
Wheezie just raised her eyebrows, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh, sure, sure. But just so you know, I’m, like, really good at reading people.”
Y/n laughed awkwardly as she looked over at the girl, “right well-”
Wheezie suddenly grabbed the girl by the arm and began tugging her away toward the drink table. “Come on, let’s get a drink. I need to fill you in on the drama.”
Y/N, looking apologetic, glanced back over her shoulder. “Sorry,” she called, offering him a small smile.
“It’s fine,” Rafe quickly replied, forcing a smile, even though a part of him was disappointed as he watched his sister drag the girl away, the navy fabric sewing around her legs as she got lost in the crowd of brightly coloured dresses.
It’s not fine.
He had almost said it- almost told her how he felt, how much she meant to him. But now, the chance had passed, and the more he thought about it, the more he felt like he’d missed it. That perfect moment was gone, stolen by Wheezie’s innocent oblivion. He sighed, shaking his head, trying to push the frustration aside. He had another chance, right? He just needed to be patient. The music continued to thump in the background, and the party went on, but Rafe couldn’t shake the feeling that the one thing he wanted most had just slipped through his fingers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rafe lingered by the edge of the party, his gaze fixed on Y/N as she laughed and talked with Wheezie,
“You okay, man?”
Rafe was startled out of his thoughts by the voice of Topper, who had appeared beside him, a beer bottle in hand. Topper's eyes were trained on the boy's expression, clearly picking up on the tension. Rafe swallowed hard, forcing a smile.
"Yeah, yeah. Just... tired,"
he said, but even to his own ears, it sounded hollow. He cleared his throat, wanting to change the subject before Topper could press. He glanced over at the group of girls, including Y/N, who was chatting with the boys sister.
“You’ve been kind of quiet all night.”
Rafe shifted on his feet, feeling the weight of Topper’s observation. "I'm fine," he said quickly, brushing it off again. But this time, it wasn’t as convincing.
“Okay, man,” Topper said with a skeptical smile. “If you say so.” He took a long swig of his beer, then added, more casually,
“Y/n liked her necklace?”
Rafe’s breath caught, and he nodded stiffly.
“Yeah, why?”
Topper shrugged, seemingly nonchalant, but Rafe could tell he was watching him closely. The boy let out a sharp laugh, but there was no humour behind it.
Seriously?
“What's the problem.”
Topper just grinned, his tone dropping to something a little more playful but still serious. “Look Rafe, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but you should just… say something.”
Rafe’s chest tightened at the words, like a weight had just settled on his ribs.
“What’re you talking bout Top-”
“Come on.”
Topper leaned against the nearby wall, clearly in no rush. “I’ve known you long enough to know when you're into someone. And I know how much you care about her. But don’t wait until she’s looking at someone else..”
The boys eyes drifted over to Y/n, who was now talking to Cooper, a smile on her face as she pushed her hair over her shoulder, laughing at what the boy was saying. Her hands reached out fixing his slightly bent tie, before the boy pulled her towards the floor where couples were dancing, he spun her clumsily to which she shook her head at him happily, her hands now resting on her shoulders.
“You think it’s that easy?” Rafe muttered, as his hand rubbed over his face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The lights strung up around the club now flickered softly, casting a warm, inviting glow over the crowd. Y/N, with her head tilted back in laughter, let out a genuine chuckle as Topper dramatically reenacted a conversation from earlier in the night, his exaggerated gestures making everyone laugh even harder. Kelce was leaning against the bar, his smile wide, eyes gleaming as he added his own commentary. The girl brought her hand up wiping away at the tear in her eye, maybe she had one too many of those champagne flutes that were being walked around. A warm buzz started in her chest and radiated outward, making everything feel just a little giddier. She glanced around, half-focused on the conversation unfolding before her, the words blending together in a pleasant, almost melodic hum.
Her gaze wandered for a moment, eyes catching on Rafe. The way his smile lit up on his face, the way he looked at her, even from across the room, made her chest flutter, but in a way that felt hazy. Maybe it was the alcohol.
Maybe it’s him?
She wasn’t sure. But everything seemed just a little more intense, despite the slight fuzziness clouding her thoughts.
A grin tugged at Kelce's lips, and he straightened up, pulling a blunt from his blazer pocket with an almost practiced ease. He held it up casually, letting the group see it, a playful smirk dancing on his face.
“How about a little fresh air, some space to breathe?”
His gaze lingered on Y/N for a moment, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth,
“I’m feeling like the beach is calling my name.”
Rafe, still nursing his drink, glanced at the others, his gaze drifting back to Y/N, a bit of quiet time away from the buzz of the club felt like a good idea. He met Kelce’s eyes for a second before shrugging.
“Couldn’t hurt,” he said. Kelce, sensing he was starting to win the group over, gave a knowing nod and flicked the blunt again.
“Exactly. So, what do you say? Beach, fresh air, good company—
“I’m down” Cooper spoke out as he stood up from his seat, Topper nodding along in agreement. Y/N hesitated for a second, but the thought of the beach, the quiet, cool night air felt tempting. She finally nodded, her lips curving into a small smile.
“Why not?”
She glanced at the group, who were already starting to make their way toward the door, then back at her mom. She wasn’t sure how long they'd be gone, and she didn’t want to leave her mom completely unaware of her whereabouts. The girl took a deep breath and made her way back to the bar, where her mother was still chatting away with a few friends, her laughter ringing out louder than it should have.
"Hey, Mom," Y/N said, leaning in close, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.
Her mother turned toward her, blinking as if surprised to see her daughter standing there. A wide grin spread across her face, and she let out a small giggle. “Oh! Hi sweet girl," she slurred lightly, “You havin’ fun?”
Y/N smiled, already feeling that familiar warmth spreading through her at her mother’s carefree attitude.
“Yeah, gonna head to the beach with the others... get some fresh air.”
Her mom squinted at her for a moment, still a little disoriented but clearly not at all concerned. She waved her hand dismissively,
“Oh honey, that’s fine, go, go... fresh air is good. Go. Have fun." She paused before pulling her daughter into a quick, tight hug. Y/N squeezed her mom back, her heart a little lighter.
“I will. Love you,” she said, stepping back. Her mom waved her off with a lazy grin, already turning back to her conversation.
"Love you too, baby!"
Her heart clenched slightly, her mother was only ever that way when she was drunk, and she wished it was more often that she got to see her like that. The drunken version of her mom- full of giggles, playfulness and affection- was a rare sight, one that always disappeared by morning. Y/N turned and walked back toward the group, as much as she loved her mom, as much as she appreciated everything she did, there was always a part of her that wished she could hold onto this lighter version of her just a little longer, that maybe one day she could see it without the help of alcohol or the haze of exhaustion. She turned back toward the door, catching up with the group stepping outside.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She walked a little further toward the back of the club, the sound of her footsteps soft against the path leading to the beach. Her eyes caught sight of the others already moving down the sandy shore, their figures distant in the night, laughing, talking, stumbling around, but someone was waiting for her by the edge of the club’s back entrance. Rafe leaned casually against the brick wall,
“You makin me wait, huh?”
Rafe teased lightly, raising an eyebrow as she stopped in front of him, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. The tensions of the early evening seemed to wash away, he couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol he’d drank over the night or if it was the girls presence, she seemed to put him at ease in a way.
Y/N smiled, feeling a little self-conscious as she glanced at him. “I had to tell mom where I was going,” she said, a slight shrug. “You know how it is.” Rafe’s smile softened just a little, his eyes flickering over her. “Yeah, I get it.”
As they stepped away from the club, the noise and lights faded behind them, leaving just the quiet hum of the ocean and the soft rustle of the wind through the trees. The beach stretched out before them, waves lapping gently at the shore. Rafe was moving ahead of her, his stride confident, hands tucked into his pockets. He glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of her slowing down a little, her heels sinking into the sand with every step. He smirked, clearly noticing the struggle, but there was a softness in his eyes that made it seem more endearing than anything else. Y/N sighed, shifting her weight to one foot as she tried to pull her heel free from the stubborn sand.
“Great”
She muttered under her breath, her gaze on the ground as she wiggled her foot, trying to free herself from the sinking trap. The sand wasn’t ideal, shifting beneath her with every movement, and the heels she wore weren’t exactly beach-appropriate. Rafe took a few steps back toward her, his grin wide but his expression amused.
“Need a hand, princess?”
He teased, the nickname slipping from his lips, she rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.
"I’ve got it,"
She said, trying to sound determined, but the truth was, the more she tried to pull her foot free, the more stuck she seemed to get. Before Y/N could respond, or even protest, Rafe’s strong arms slipped around her waist. With one swift motion, he lifted her effortlessly, pulling her off the ground and into his arms in a bridal hold.
Y/N let out a surprised hum, her breath catching at the suddenness of it. She instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself, her heart skipping a beat as the world shifted.
That was unexpected
“What—Rafe?” she exclaimed, voice catching with a mix of shock and something else she couldn’t quite identify. The surprise was quickly replaced with a strange sense of comfort, the boy shot her a teasing grin, his arms strong around her as he held her securely,
"You didn’t think I’d leave you stranded in the sand, did you?"
Y/N blinked up at him, still a little stunned. Her voice came out slightly breathless as she muttered,
"You better not drop me."
His smirk deepened, and without missing a beat, he glanced down at her with that same playful gleam in his eyes.
"Drop you?"
He repeated, as though considering it. Then, just as Y/N was about to give him a skeptical look, he slackened his grip just slightly, as though he was going to drop her entirely. Y/N’s eyes widened.
"Rafe!"
She squealed, her hands instinctively tightening around his neck, pulling herself toward him. The sudden shift in weight had her clinging to him tighter, her heart skipping a beat as she could feel the way he was teasing her.
Oh my fucking go-
"Don’t you dare!"
"Gotcha,"
he laughed, lifting her back up his grip firm again as he steadied her. Rafe’s grin only deepened as she clinged onto him.
"Yeah, well, you’ve got a death grip on me now," He teased, his lips almost brushing against her ear as he spoke. "Maybe next time, I’ll actually drop you.” Y/N rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face was undeniable.
“I’ll remember that,” she said, but the words came out softer than she meant. As the others came into view, Kelce, Cooper, and Topper all gathered in a loose circle, passing something between them, Rafe slowed his pace.
"Alright, princess," he murmured with a small, amused smile, "this is where I put you down."
How about you don't?
Where did that come from-
Y/N, still nestled in his arms, raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You mean you’re done showing off?"
Rafe's grin softened just slightly,
"Something like that."
With a small chuckle, he gently lowered her feet to the sand, his hands lingering on her waist for just a moment longer than necessary, like he didn’t quite want to let go. Y/N felt a slight chill from being on her own two feet again, but the warmth from his touch lingered. Rafe’s gaze flicked up to the group as they passed the blunt around. Kelce was the first to wave them over with a grin.
“Took you long enough, you guys finally fuck or what?” He said, his tone light and teasing, his eyes already hazy from whatever it was they'd been smoking.
“You wish,” Y/n spoke back as she flicked her middle finger up at him. She glanced at the blunt in Kelce’s hand,
"Thanks for sharing,"
she said, her voice casual, though there was a slight challenge in her tone as she reached out for the blunt taking it from Kelce. Holding the blunt, she exhaled a soft laugh before bringing it to her lips. She took a slow drag eyes fluttering close, feeling the familiar, slightly heady warmth settle in her chest as she held the smoke in her lungs for a second before releasing it into the night air.
Kelce grinned, watching her. "That’s what I like to see," he said with a wink, before reaching for it again.
Y/N passed it off to him, the buzz from the first drag already making her feel a little lighter. She turned her attention to Rafe, who was watching her with a slightly amused, almost thoughtful expression. His gaze that lingered just a moment too long.
“See I can handle myself,” she teased, nudging him with her shoulder as she leaned back against the sand.
"No need to carry me around like a princess all night."
Rafe chuckled, shaking his head, but there was something almost protective in his demeanour as he shifted closer, taking a seat next to her.
"I’ll carry you whenever I feel like it," he said with a shrug, his grin returning. "Besides, I think you secretly liked it."
Y/N rolled her eyes and she gave him a small smile.
“Maybe. But don’t get used to it.”
The night had stretched into a lazy, hazy blur, the joint passed around clouding any coherent thoughts. The group was lost in their high now, their conversation drifting like the smoke in the air. The beach was quiet, save for the soft sound of waves crashing against the shore, and the occasional laughter that spilled from one of them, the sound of the party behind them occasionally breaking the calmness. Y/n, thoroughly buzzed from the weed and the champagne, was nestled against Rafe, her body leaning into him seeking his warmth. He was resting on his elbows, his posture relaxed, his gaze shifting between the distant shore and the girl every now and then; the sea breeze tousled his hair slightly, but he didn’t seem to mind, his usual tension gone.
The girl, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with laughter. Everything seemed funny to her- Topper’s latest comment, the random thoughts floating through her mind, even the way the sand beneath her seemed to shift with every movement she made. Her giggles were light and contagious, Rafe’s eyes flickered down at her, the corners of his mouth curving into a small smile.
Her fingers, wobbly, were fiddling with the buttons of his shirt, moving from one to the next as though they were the most fascinating things in the world. His shirt was loose, the fabric stretching slightly as she moved her fingers, Rafe felt a light tension coil in his chest. He couldn’t quite explain it, maybe it was the way her fingers traced his shirt, or the sound of her voice when she spoke.
He didn’t pull away, though. Instead, he let her keep fidgeting with his shirt, his focus shifting back and forth between her and the sound of Kelce and Topper laughing as they waded through the waves. They had made their way to the edge of the water to cool off, their carefree chatter and occasional splashes rising over the sound of the ocean.
Y/n shifted, her fingers brushing under one of the buttons on his shirt again, causing her hand to graze his skin. The brief contact made Rafe’s breath catch slightly, and his body went rigid for a split second, though he did his best to mask it.
So warm
“Stop fidgeting with my shirt,” he said lightly, though there was no edge to his tone, just a quiet humour in his voice. The girl looked up at him then, her lips curled into a, playful smile.
“I can’t help it,” she replied, her voice teasing, her eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and warmth. “I’m bored…” She whined. Rafe chuckled, his gaze flicking between her and the others in the distance before he let his eyes rest back on her.
“Bored, huh?” he repeated, leaning just a little closer, the warmth of his body mixing with hers.
“Maybe I could entertain you...”
There was a pause, a charged silence hanging between them. Rafe’s words were a playful invitation, but his tone had shifted ever so slightly, an underlying edge of something more subtle in between them. His gaze softened as he looked down at her, his eyes lingering on her lips for just a moment before snapping back to her eyes.
Y/n didn’t seem to notice the shift, her giggles still bubbling from her chest, softening as her breath caught, fingers pausing on his shirt, her hand resting lightly against his chest for a brief second.
“Maybe you should,” she said, her voice a little dreamy.
Her heart was racing, thoughts a little jumbled from the joint she'd kept bringing back to her lips, she cursed herself for her lack of self restraint. She could still feel the heat of Rafe’s body beside hers, his arm brushing against hers as he shifted, his eyes never left hers, and the soft amusement in his gaze now mixed with something more intense, more uncertain.
Don't do it-
But what's the harm?
Her fingers trailed up to the top of his shirt, her eyes looking at the black bowtie done up under his neck, her finger looped around the material loosening slightly, watching as it falls around his neck. Her teeth bite at her bottom lip as she pops open his top button, trailing down to the next two opening up the material, his skin now exposed to the cool sea air, her breath hitched but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned in just a little, her lips barely grazing the skin of his jaw. The move was slow, almost hesitant, but it was enough to make Rafe’s eyes narrow just slightly. He seemed to hold his breath for a moment, as if he was waiting for her to make the next move.
His hand, without thinking, shifted a little closer to her. His fingers brushed lightly against her side, a soft touch that sent a jolt through her. As she pulled away from his jaw slightly, her breath shallow, Rafe could see the flush spreading across her cheeks. Her lips were slightly parted, her pupils dilated, the hint of glassiness in her eyes betraying the effects of the drug. The subtle tremor in her fingers as she rested them on his chest didn't go unnoticed, and neither did the way her gaze wavered—she was there, but not entirely there.
Rafe’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched her, the air between them thick with an electric tension. She seemed so close, so present- but at the same time, there was a layer of fog surrounding her that made him pause. The way she looked at him, her eyes soft but unfocused, her body language so open and trusting… it created an urge within him, something that made him want to pull her in.
But the longer he looked at the girl, he came to terms with what was going on and his stomach tightened slightly. This wasn't right.
She's high you gotta stop
It wasn’t that he didn’t want her, God, he wanted her more than he could put into words—but in that moment, he saw the vulnerability in her that he hadn't before. The haze in her eyes, the way she was almost floating in her own thoughts, disconnected from the world around her. He could see the haze in her expression, the slight confusion, the softness in her gaze that wasn’t entirely hers. She wasn’t fully present. She wasn’t fully aware of what was going on, not the way he needed her to be.
His hand hovered at her waist, but he didn’t pull her closer now. He couldn’t. He was aware- too aware of what this moment would mean if he crossed that line without her consciousness.
He wasn’t that guy. He never would be.
Her fingers brushed his chest again, but this time, he didn’t respond the way he normally would. His eyes took in the way she looked up at him, her breath still shallow, the lightness in her smile tugging at his heart.
He exhaled, fighting the urge to pull her in, his heart beating louder with every passing second. She deserved more than this, she deserved clarity, not confusion. He could already see the trust in her eyes, an unspoken invitation in the way she looked at him, but it wasn’t real- not in the way it should be.
“Y/N,”
Rafe said quietly, his voice steady but with a hint of concern. He reached up, his hand brushing her hair away from her face as his thumb gently stroked her cheek.
“Don’t think this is a good time princess” His words were soft, but they held a weight. She blinked slowly, her expression still dreamy, and for a moment, Rafe couldn’t tell if she’d even heard him. But her lips parted, her eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to focus.
“Why not Rafey,” she mumbled, words slower than usual, the lack of clarity in her voice made his chest at her vulnerability.
So fucking stubborn
He could feel the tension building again, the desperate longing inside him clawing at his chest. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to pull her into him and lose himself in her. But something inside him, a voice that was louder than his impulses, told him to stop. He was starting to realise why she only smoked when he was around, he didn’t want to imaginer like this, so innocent and trusting at a party by herself, surrounded by people she didn’t know.
The thought made him nauseous.
He leaned back, his gaze holding hers, steady, but with an edge of hesitation.
“Not like this,” he said softly, almost to himself, but loud enough for her to hear. She tilted her head in confusion, her lips pursing as if trying to understand, but Rafe shook his head slightly. He could wait. He could wait until she was fully aware, he wouldn’t take advantage of her- he couldn’t- he'd never even think of it.
“Y/N, look at me,”
he whispered, reaching out gently to hold her face, his thumb grazing her soft skin. “I’m not going anywhere. But I’m not doing this with you like this.”
For a moment, there was only the sound of the waves and the distant laughter of the others in the background, and then, finally, she nodded, her expression soft, a slight pout tugging at her lips. She was still out of it, but she understood the sincerity in his voice, and it made something flutter in his chest.
With a sigh, Rafe pulled back just slightly, releasing his hold on her but keeping his gaze on her face, his heart still hammering in his chest. She didn’t say anything more instead she leaned into him ever so slightly, head resting on his shoulder, just enough to let him know she wasn’t pulling away, but she was still there, still trusting him.
And that was all he needed.
The boy took in a slow breath, then dropped his hand back to his side. He could feel the pull, the heat, the temptation to kiss her, but he resisted, allowing the silence to settle between them.
She's won't remember any of this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Rafe pulled outside the girls house, the soft hum of the engine and Y/n’s occasional delayed mumble of the song lyrics playing were the only sound between them, the night air seemed thicker now, charged with something unspoken. The glow of the streetlights flickered over the girl's face, catching the soft curve of her jaw, the faint flush still lingering on her cheeks. He had barely said a word to her since the conversation on the beach, unsure of what to say, his mind still buzzing from the way things had shifted and he knew she hadn't noticed, too preoccupied in her own little world.
He's got a nice nose
You know what they say about big noses-
Girl shut the fuck up
The car slowed to a stop in front of her house, but neither of them moved immediately. He kept his hands firmly on the wheel, trying to calm the sudden pressure that had started to coil in his chest. Every little shift of her body, every soft breath she took, seemed emphasise in the silence between them. Y/N didn’t seem in any hurry to get out, her fingers fiddling with the slit of her dress as she looked out the window, exposing her thigh to the air of the car. She leaned just a little closer,
“Thanks for bringing me back,”
she said softly, her voice sweet and laced with a quiet giggle that clung to the walls of the car. He nodded, his throat tight, trying to keep his composure.
“Of course. You okay?”
He asked, though he noticed the way her fingers were now tracing the fabric of his seat, the way her gaze lingered on him a little too long. She turned to face him, her lips pulling into a playful, almost mischievous smile.
“Yeah, I’m good,” she said, her voice insistent, as if she were trying to convince herself. She leaned toward him just slightly, her shoulder brushing against his arm as she shifted closer. Rafe felt the heat rising in his body, a surge of something he was desperately trying to control. She was still so touchy, so close. Her hand, which had been absentmindedly resting on her lap, now slid to his arm, her fingers lightly brushing his shirt, making his pulse hitch.
The light touch sent a spark through him, one that made him clench his jaw. He had to remind himself that she wasn’t fully in control of her actions, but it didn’t make it any easier. His muscles tensed as her fingers lingered for just a second too long on his forearm before slowly tracing up his sleeve. The soft caress sent an undeniable shiver through him, one that made it harder to concentrate.
He swallowed hard, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as her fingers trailed up to his shoulder, her palm resting against the side of his neck. It was too much—too much of her, too much softness in her touch, too much of the way she was looking at him like she wanted more. Her gaze, still slightly unfocused, held a curiosity, a gentleness that was intoxicating. She pushed herself slightly closer to him over the centre console, her dress dragging down slightly, the v-neck exposing her skin to him, the low cut revealing more of her chest than he was expecting.
"Rafe..." Her voice was barely a whisper now, like she was testing his name on her lips, her fingers now slowly sliding over the side of his neck, her touch sending goosebumps across his skin. His jaw locked, his teeth grinding together as he fought the growing desire inside him.
“Y/N, stop,” he said through clenched teeth, his voice low and strained, but firm. He turned his head toward her, his gaze intense, trying to pull her back into reality.
“Need to go home yeah? You’re not yourself right now.”
Don't wanna go home want you
She didn’t seem to hear him- or maybe she didn’t care, he couldn't tell. Her hand slid around to the back of his neck, her fingers brushing the nape of his hair, it almost made his resolve crumble. He forced himself to meet her gaze, but his heart was hammering in his chest, and he was so aware of the way her body was leaning closer, the heat radiating off her.
She smiled up at him, leaning in, her lips brushing against his neck in a soft, teasing kiss. “You’re so serious all the time,” she murmured, her breath warm against his skin.
“Why can’t you just relax?”
His whole body stiffened. His grip on the wheel tightened so much his knuckles went white. He tried to focus on anything but the way her lips lingered near his neck, the way her breath caressed his skin, how close she was.
“Y/N, you need to get out of the car,” he said, his voice strained, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
“Go inside, I’m not going to do this with you, not when you’re not yourself.”
She pouted, her gaze flickering down to his lips and back up to his eyes. “You’re no fun...” she said with a playful giggle.
Rafe let out a long, slow breath, he didn’t want to hurt her feelings,
“C’mon princess” he said quietly, his tone more affectionate, yet still firm.
“Go inside for me, yeah? You’re not thinking clearly.”
She didn’t resist.
After a long beat, she finally pulled her hand away, glossy eyes looking at him as she pushed open the door. Before she stepped out, she turned back to look at him one last time, her smile still lingering but faint; she pushed herself back into the car and placed a soft kiss onto his cheek.
“Goodnight, Rafey.”
She whispered, her voice wavering and slightly off-balance. She wiggled her fingers at him in a wave before closing the door behind her, and Rafe watched as she staggered up to her front door, her steps a little less steady than usual. She fiddled with the doorhandle, and he debated whether he should get out and help her open the door. Somehow she managed to crack the door open, she turned back to him blowing him a kiss before closing the door behind her.
Once she was inside, Rafe sat there for a moment, his jaw still clenched, trying to shake the weight of everything that had just happened. Her touch had been too much and as much as he had tried to keep his distance, it didn’t matter because his body was betraying him.
He shifted uncomfortably in the seat, feeling the tightness of his slacks against him, and he swore under his breath. The pressure between his legs was undeniable, a constant reminder of how wrong it all was.
She's high.
AND she's not herself.
He dragged his hand through his hair again, frustration gnawing at him. He had to leave. But the thoughts came anyway- the image of her lips, the soft weight of her body against his, the way her smile made his chest tighten. He could feel the pressure building again, the ache in his body, and for a split second, he imagined what it would be like to pull her back into the car, to kiss her until she forgot everything except him. To hear her moan his name, to feel her hands on him the way they were on his neck...
Rafe’s breath hitched.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The boy's hands gripped the wheel tighter as he rolled into the driveway of Tannyhill, the tires crunching over the gravel as he parked the car in front of the empty house. The quiet of the night surrounded him, only the distant hum of a few streetlights and the rustling of leaves in the breeze breaking the stillness.
He sat in his car for a moment, head resting against the steering wheel eyes closed and jaw clenched tight as he tried to push away the memory and the feeling of her touch. He felt guilty, but he also couldn't shake the feeling of wanting more. His body was still trembling as he remembered the way she'd touched him, the way she'd looked up at him with hazy, glazed eyes. He shifted awkwardly in his seat, slacks straining against him.
A glimpse of pink catches the corner of his eye, Rafe’s gaze lingered on the pink jumper in the backseat, the soft fabric wrinkled from weeks of being tossed around in the car, yet it still carried the faint scent of her. His heart thudded in his chest, and he couldn’t help the surge of desire that bloomed inside him. The memory of her wearing it, her figure draped in the soft jumper, rushed back with vivid clarity.
He reached over slowly, almost as if he was afraid it would disappear if he moved too quickly. His fingers brushed against the fabric, and the sensation sent a small shiver down his spine. Grabbing the jumper, he lifted it from the backseat, holding it in his hands like it was something precious. The soft material felt almost too delicate against his skin, his breath caught in his throat as his mind wandered. He could almost feel her body against his again, the way her soft hands had pressed into him.
He let out a shaky breath, the air in the car feeling warmer than it had moments ago. His fingers traced the edge of the sleeve, the softness reminding him of the girl. Rafe’s grip on the jumper tightened, and his chest rose with a slow, deep breath as he brought the soft fabric up to his face. The scent of her hit him again- intoxicating and something uniquely Y/n that made his stomach flip. His eyes fluttered shut as he inhaled, the softness of the material pressing against his nose, his lips. The familiar scent settled deep inside him, and he couldn’t stop the grunt that slipped out, low and unguarded, his head tilted back against the seat.
His mind swirled with visions of her, of what could have happened, of how easily he could have pulled her back into the car; the heat between them had been undeniable- much too strong to ignore.
He could feel the burn in his chest, the low, insistent throb heavy between his legs.
Rafe’s jaw clenched as he pulled the jumper closer to his face again, breathing her in deeply, letting her scent consume him. His hand drifted down his body, fingers fiddling with his belt as he loosened it, the rattling of the metal buckle filling the car.
He lifted his hips up slightly, shaking hand slipping his trousers down past his hips just enough. His breath was harsh and ragged, his body burning, the feeling of her scent surrounding him; the memory of her touch still fresh in his mind, making him twitch with want, he groaned aloud as he wrapped the jumper around his hand, needing to feel the softness against him.
The jumper was wrapped around his hand in a tight, desperate grip as he moved it down to his crotch, palming himself slowly through the fabric, the friction making his breath come out in quick, uneven huffs.
He let out a low, moan his voice thick with need, but it wasn't enough, it wasn't what he really wanted.
In a hurried movement, he slid his hand inside his briefs, grasping his length, and began to stroke himself, eyes closed as he let out a guttural groan, his head falling back against the seat as his body responded to the touch of his hand and the soft material wrapped around it.
He imagined the girl in the passenger seat, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire, her lips parted in anticipation as she was moments before he’d told her to leave.
He swallowed harshly as he circled the tip of his throbbing cock, beads of pre-cum coating his thumb.
His mind flickered back to the golf course weeks ago, the girl on her knees in front of him, innocent doe eyes looking up. He pictured the night going differently, his sweet best-friend leaning over, her lips wrapping around the head of his cock, her tongue swirling and teasing his tip, cheeks hollowing around him. He let out a heavy breath at the image of the girl in his mind, his hand gripping himself tighter. He imagined his hands threading through her hair, pulling it up into a ponytail as her eyes fluttered shut, pushing his hips towards her, the girls nails dragging down his thighs as she gagged around him. Her whimpers and whines echoing in his mind, his hand, still holding the jumper trembled slightly as he pressed it harder against his face, as he thrusted himself up into his fist at the smell of her. Rafe's strokes grew faster, his breath coming out in short gasps, his hips bucking up into his hand frantically as he envisioned the girl pulling away from him, eyes teary and glazed over like they were tonight, looking up to him her mouth open for him awaiting, lips reddened and wet with her spit.
“Fuck y/n” he groaned shakily as the slick sounds filling the car came to a stop, warm ropes of cum landing over the soft pink material wrapped around his hand.
Rafe's heavy breaths filled the car, windows now fogged up. The boy sat there motionless looking down at the mess in his lap, mind reeling.
What the fu-
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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