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strawbeelemonade · 2 years ago

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PLATONIC HEADCANNONS: being miles morales best friend but your also a bit insane (Part 2!)

i'm gonna try to remember to start specifying when something is intended to be platonic or romantic.

🕷- I was literally unable to cram everything I wanted to say in the first one.

🕷- Miles is really only comfortable showing you his drawings.

🕷- He's an incredibly awkward guy, but the words come so easily when he hangs out with you. he doesn't choke up like he does with other people at school.

🕷- When he gets his powers his first instinct is to call you. He’s literally halfway through punching your number into the keypad until he stops and decides against it. He knows your number off by heart now.

🕷- You appear and disappear like a ghost its so random.

🕷- Honest to god, he lowkey thought you were homeless until you invited him over to watch Barbie Mermaidia.

🕷- “Bibble is so me.”

🕷- He’s the only person you let over at your place. its small and in the basement of an old apartment complex. the landlord couldn’t get anyone to pay to live there. you live alone.

🕷- You struck a deal, and they let you crash there as long as rent was on time and you fixed their washing machine for free.

🕷- Miles asked how you got to live there for so cheap. You tell him it’s because someone died on the couch he was sitting on.

🕷- He sits on the floor.

🕷- Miles is so eager to share his new powers with someone.

🕷- No seriously, between all the stress and lying and anxiety its nice to let himself get excited about it. To let himself have fun and see what he can do.

🕷- You guys TOTALLY video tape him trying out his new powers for the first time.

🕷- I can imagine you finding an abandoned alleyway on some random ass street after school and filming Miles Trying to do a backflip LMAO.

🕷- You gotta fish him out of a trashcan after he tries to spider climb up the wall.

🕷- You know that thing where a group of friends duck tapes one of their friends to a wall for fun? You get miles to do that to you.

🕷- You guys can’t stop laughing, The best memories of your lives are in those videos.

🕷- He’ll take you up to the top of buildings to show you the graffiti art he painted!! he’ll let you sign it off with a dick and balls or a heart if you want. You guys do homework up there together as well.

🕷- ’M & (Y/I) were here’ has been painted on every available surface of New York.

🕷- You both have the bright idea to hop on his back and go web slinging around the neighbourhood. He can carry you easily.

🕷- Miles decides If you don’t tell him to slow down, then he’s not going fast enough.

🕷- You NEVER tell him to slow down.

🕷- “Faster!!!“

🕷- Now that he’s got super strength he can put you in an inescapable headlock, he doesn’t do it too tight but he holds you there until you tap out.

🕷- He takes you to the coolest spots with the best views.

🕷- You regularly cover for him.

🕷- “We were at Jamba Juice the whole time officer I swear.”

🕷- Miles side eyes you knowing damn well he was no where NEAR a Jamba Juice.

🕷- ’Thanks’ he’d mouth.

🕷- You and Petter B will get along like a house on fire.

🕷- While Miles is extremely unimpressed by him, you don’t seem to care about any pre-existing expectations one might have when you think of the guy behind the mask of Spider-Man, your cracking jokes and feeding your pet rat a couple of French fries while the three of you sit in the diner, planning your next moves carefully.

🕷- Peter B can tell you’re a good kid. He’s at an age where a lot of your batshit tendencies don’t really faze him as long as your not hurting yourself.

🕷- Speaking of which.

🕷- When him and Miles get the chance to talk alone he warns him that he needs to be careful.

🕷- He tells him that normal relationships aren’t possible anymore. And stresses to him what a life like this can mean for your loved ones. especially since you found out his secret. This line of work isn’t just dangerous for Miles, but for you as well.

🕷- Miles is a little shaken after the conversation, no matter how gently Peter tries to put it. But what he’s implying is clear. He tries to shake it off and enjoy the time you both spend together. He won’t admit to himself that Peter is right just yet.

🕷- It’s just so easy to tell you everything and rely on you.

🕷- There will be a moment sometime in the future when reality sets in, but for now Miles makes the same mistake every Spider-Man does.

🕷- He has a best friend. :(

🕷- On the other hand, Peter comes to the staggering realisation that your actually extremely prone to accidents and danger all on your own. And he appropriately does a complete 180 from ‘casually distant bum-uncle' to ‘I am your dad now’.

🕷- It’s Nothing personal, kid. now stop trying to get in the middle of fights with dangerous criminals and let the adult— or at least the guys with super strength, stamina, speed and resilience— handle it.

🕷- He demands you stay out of the crossfire, but, to no one’s surprise you don’t listen.

🕷- You’re willing to throw yourself in front of Miles to shield him from anything, much to your best friends terror.

🕷- You hold your own surprisingly well against opponents that would be considered reasonable threats otherwise. You’re resourceful, grabbing anything and everything you can get your hands on. you get a terrifying look in your eye.

🕷- No matter how impressed Peter is, He will slingshot you around with his web-shooters to propel you out of the way of oncoming attacks. He will do this for both of you, but feels the need to do it less for Miles. He knows he can take what’s on the other end of the punch. But No matter how untouchable you make yourself out to be, you can’t.

🕷- “Do I want kids?”

🕷- He takes you on as his responsibility just as much as he does Miles.

🕷- Spider-Gwen also looks out for you in battle.

🕷- She’s more laid back, and even a little suave about it too.

🕷- She secretly wishes she had someone like you in her universe. What she wouldn’t give to decompress with you after a long day of patrolling New York.

🕷- She’s actually the most normal about you having a pet rat. You know, the one you grabbed out of a garbage can in a subway station. Yeah, That rat.

🕷- Miles watches you both get along like a house on fire and just quietly falls behind you both since he’s not sure what to do or say.

🕷- He’s so awkward, poor guy.

🕷- Your tendency to go off for days at a time ignites everyone’s curiosity. it’s a concerning habit, and Gwen even endeavours to follow you to see where you disappear to so often.

🕷- She’s unsuccessful.

🕷- It's never said out loud, but when she’s facing the one-way ticket home she finds herself wanting to stay just a bit longer. Not just for Miles, but for you to… She wonders what you’ll get up to while she’s gone.

🕷- …

🕷- Peter Porker vibes with you so hard.

🕷- no wait don’t scroll away wait

🕷- he WILL gift you the freakishly large cartoon mallet. Sorry, but miles didn’t appreciate it for what it was.

🕷- He would be cracking jokes and doing bits with you through out the whole goddamn movie.

🕷- Miles can usually let you do your own thing without sparing a second glance, but the looney tunes laws of physics that Porker exhibits WILL rub off on you at least a little.

🕷- It’s contagious. And when you start flattening eachother into to perfect discs it freaks everyone out a little.

🕷- He’s got enough to worry about in the plot,,, Damn,,

🕷- Spider Noir teaches you how to throw a good punch

🕷- in exchange you let him mess with your phone as much as he wants

🕷- "how the hell do you work this thing?"

🕷- He likes you, he thinks you got a lot of guts.

🕷- You were actually the one to design Miles’ suit. He took inspiration from one of your drawings in your school notebook.

🕷- You've always believed in him, and that made him believe in himself too.

#spider man #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #miles morales #miles morales x reader #into the spiderverse #you guys are cutie patooties #spider noir #spiderman into the spiderverse #peter porker #gwen stacy #spider gwen

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mojogojocasahouse · 6 months ago

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Just in Time Part II

Satoru Gojo x f!reader (Principal Gakuganji's daughter)

On the eve of a wedding of your father's arrangement, you call upon your reliable yet agitating old flame Satoru Gojo in an act of desperation and defiance

words: 6.5k series content: infidelity (in an arranged marriage so does that even count?), angst, smut, unprotected p in v, oral m & f-receiving, face fucking, rough sex, minor choking, spit kink, creampie, jealous!Gojo, protective!Gojo (moreso in part ii), minor degradation 18+ only

Part I

You follow the sound out into the cool summer morning, Satoru leaning back against the railing with his head hung. He’s in shorts and an unzipped hoodie, his snowy locks still mussed from his pillow. He raises his eyes when he hears the door opening, blinking the agony from his eyes away before he smiles. Had you not been paying attention you’d have missed the switch.

“Go sit in the bedroom and stay there,” Satoru instructs, turning you by the shoulder and gently shoving you toward his room, “Actually, lock yourself in the bathroom or something…Okay, or just stand there…”

Fear has frozen you in place, but when he pushes down on your head you drop to the floor in a heap, leaning back against the counter in the middle of the kitchen as a call of your name on the other side of the door signifies the worst has come to pass. You hear Satoru mutter ‘Good enough, I guess,’ before he snaps his jovial, mischievous persona back into place, his sing-song greeting to your father outside barely audible just as the hinges close behind him. It takes you too long to drag yourself across the sleek wooden floor and hover your ear against the same place you’d been pressed to in very different circumstances earlier that night.

“I know she’s in there you insolent brat!” That’s your father’s voice, sounding as furious as you’ve ever heard him.

“Are you going senile in your old age?” Satoru’s wit never fails him, “We’re gonna have to strip you of that fancy position if you can’t keep your thoughts straight. I think I could be a principal, don’t you? Not that I really want to go to Kyoto but…”

The sound of blood spattering against a wall proves there’s a third out there with them, Satoru’s taunting laugh confirming he’d been the target of a blood manipulation technique.

“Woah, woah, woah, hang on, Gramps. Call off your little attack dog, you know it’s pointless. Unless you forgot that too…”

“She’s getting married tomorrow and this nonsense that’s gone on for too long already is finished! Stop harboring her like there’s anything you can do, what’s done is done.”

“But it isn’t done, is it?” The change in his tone is almost jarring. It’s menacing now, low and rumbling even through the barrier you're still pressed against.

“You have nothing to offer–”

“Ha! Don’t I? Does that shriveled raisin rattling around inside your skull not remember? I AM the Gojo clan. It’s all me! And no offense to Kamo’s cute little squirt gun technique, but we all know who’s winning this fight, right?”

It’s all murmurs that follow, the wood too thick to allow any legible words no matter how hard you press your ear against it. You fight the urge to wrench open the door…

“You know, Gakuganji,” you can hear Satoru respond after 30 seconds of eternity, his tone once again light and carefree, “A smart man would have tried to bleed me dry as a 15-year-old kid when you caught me sneaking out of her room at that first Exchange Event.”

“It didn’t matter. What could you give me, Gojo?”

“Now? Not a damn thing! And let’s be honest, probably not back then either. You’ve always been a slimeball. Go home, old man. You lost. No seat for you at the round table.”

“There’s nothing you can do-“

“You have ten seconds to leave, I don’t think I need to warn you about what happens if you don’t.”

The door knocks you flat onto the floor when he reenters the house, his hands quickly coming to right you as he drops to his knees. You’re just trying to keep yourself from crying, the pale stretch of his bare chest at your eye level and it takes every ounce of your waning self-control not to break down into him. His hands are warm and the arm’s length distance feels like miles, and he’s the only thing you want. But he’s something you can’t have.

When he’s certain you’re steady he jumps back to his feet, grabs his phone, and walks to peek out the window to ensure your unexpected visitors are gone. A flash of headlights flickers against the wall and you sigh in relief, your body still frozen in place.

“Nanami!” Gojo greets, phone pressed to his ear, “Yeah…yeah…No, I don’t need a ride … That happened one time six years ago! … Shut uuuup…No…Wai-wai-wait! I need something! … It’s important! … Is that apartment in your building still available? … It’s not for me…It’s not for me! … I got baby Gakuganji out, she needs a place… Okay, what about that other place… Uh-huuuh… Yes… No, I’ll just cover the year… Yeah, upfront… Here tonight… No, my place in the city… I’m staying up… Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

“You’re not paying for-” you begin to argue when you’re certain he’s hung up.

“I didn’t ask,” he quickly cuts you off, “Take the bedroom, I’ll stay out here. One of good ol’ Kento Nanami’s suit buddies is a building manager, says he might have a place. No promises the Kamo clan will let me into their little fortress to get your stuff, but I’m gonna call Yaga to see if he can swindle a deal.”

The typically childish, flippant Satoru was gone, and in his place was the intelligent, efficient man that so very few saw, including yourself. He was a strategizer, calculating and quick-witted not only with his sarcastic words, but solutions, too. In ten minutes he’d already freed you of your shackles and found you an alternative path; could you have just asked him for help years ago and gotten this same response?

“Get some sleep,” he urges again, lifting his phone back to his ear for his next call, “Nothing will happen tonight… Yaga, need a favor!”

His bed feels like quicksand as you settle beneath the silky sheets and plush blankets. Everything smells like him from the pillows and the shirt you wear to your skin that he scrubbed clean with a touch so gentle it had sent ripples down your spine. You can hear him still murmuring in the living room, the conversation growing heated and you want to run to tell him you’re not worth this trouble. Nine years as an intermittent visitor to his bed doesn’t qualify you for this, he should have just surrendered you to the men at the door.

“They tracked her phone!” He’d said that loud enough you were able to hear it clearly.

Has there been any one moment of your life where you had control? All this time you’d thought your moments with Satoru had been yours and yours alone, a secret kept between the two of you, but it wasn’t. Your father had known all along and let it continue, and you knew that it wasn’t for your benefit. The trip down memory lane leaves you sobbing into your hands, all the emotions of the night cresting over your weakening composure. You do all you can to keep quiet, choking and sputtering on the wails that want to break free, you can’t show weakness. Not now, not ever.

Even in your best attempts at discretion, you’re still too loud to hear the door slowly open, so when a long, slender body curls behind you it comes as a complete surprise. Satoru’s arm wraps tightly around your middle, his face notching into the curve of your shoulder.

Tears of despair turn into those of relief, your fingers threading with his on your stomach before you clutch his hand to your aching chest like a child’s teddy bear. It’s big enough to be one. Your muscles ache from tension, your resolve beginning to crack, and when he nuzzles his thin, pointed nose against your skin you finally lose the battle.

He holds you as you sob, the embarrassment, shame, and fear you felt running down your face. You can’t make out whatever he’s whispering in your ear but you swear it sounds like a pleading ‘stop’, and you can feel the way his arm pulls you even closer, your knuckles going white as you tighten your own grip. The burning in your throat is made worse with every gasping breath, and you can’t tell if it’s your body quivering or his until his palm swallows your jaw whole and pulls your chin up to face him.

The salt of your tears is bitter in a desperate kiss, his tongue coated with what had soaked your lips. There’s nothing gentle about his movements, they’re frantic and hard, the shock of his desperation enough to snap you back to reality. It’s him who’s trembling, his brow knit tightly for reasons you don’t and will likely never know.

“Stay…” you choke, throat thick with sorrow and strife, the thought of him leaving you in his bed alone dropping heavily into your stomach like a stone, “Please.”

“Sure,” he agrees, pecking at your lips again at a drastically softer pace.

Despite your turmoil, you doze off quickly. His embrace is an oasis, the feathering kisses he leaves along your neck, shoulder, and in the hollow behind your ear blooming like flowers and spreading their vivid warmth until you slip beneath the weight of sleep. He greets you here as he often does, the life you’d built in your dreams welcoming you.

It’s still dark when your eyes snap open, an arm pulling you tighter into a searing cocoon when your body jolts. Your long-held fantasy has burned to ash and crumbled into a nightmare, the image of white hair billowing in the breeze as tears ran from crystal blue eyes still painted behind your eyes.

“Toru?” you whisper as your fingers graze along the soft, smooth skin locking you in place.

“Hmm?” he hums, his tired voice like a balm.

“Are you here?” It’s delirium fogging your train of thoughts, words your mind has fabricated still echoing.

“Where else would I be?”

“Please stay…” You’re not even responding to him at this point, exhaustion has taken hold once again and thrown you right back into the fire. “Toru…”

The sun is blinding when you wake again, the bed cold and empty. A toothbrush is sitting on the bathroom counter when you wander in, a fresh set of shorts and a shirt that will be far too large for you perched on a shelf. Who knew Satoru could be such a gracious host?

There’s no sign of the man in the question even when you make your way to the living area save a mug of half-drank coffee sitting on an end table near the sliding glass doors leading out to a balcony. When you turn towards the kitchen, you spot another mug set out by the coffee maker, one for you, and that sinking feeling in your chest that had woken you up in the early hours of the morning returns.

“Then do something!” a distant voice shouts, “Do something!”

“Morning,” he greets in a jovial tone you know is a lie, “I left you a mug—“

“I know,” you cut him off, and here in the light of a new day, you realize something you’d known all along.

You’re in love with him.

The pain of that admittance is freeing. He’s cast in a warm orange glow looking every bit as ethereal as he was, and you press your cheek to the patch of sun shining on his chest, wrapping your arms around his slim waist and stealing this moment with him knowing it very well may be the last. His arms lock around you faster than your hands can knot at the small of his back, there is no hesitation, not even enough time to consider a different course of action, and when he notches your head beneath his chin and sighs, your mind goes quiet.

You’ll stay here as long as he allows it. Five minutes, an hour, it doesn’t matter. This feels good, it feels safe…

I love you, I love you, I love you… It’s like a mantra, and while you don’t dare speak it you hope the message gets to him somehow. Maybe in the tightness of your hold, the tension from your efforts, or the shallowness of your breath. The world is still quiet, giving you enough peace to soak this in. There’s no blaring of car horns or busy conversations floating into the sky to disrupt you, it’s just the steady thrum of his heart beating. You’re positive this is the first time anyone has just…held you like this.

When he pulls away you try to hide your disdain for the distance he creates, your eyes are still closed when he tips your face up towards him with the side of his pointer finger.

He catches you mid-breath in a kiss harder than you expect after just waking up. You can feel his failed restraint, it’s been years since you’ve welcomed a new day together, lonely nights after long taxi rides home have been the norm. Two hands grip behind your knees and hoist you upwards, your arms slipping around his neck as his tongue drags along your lower lip, urging your mouth open and a whine to slip free.

There are a thousand reasons to stop him, but none of them matter right now. He’s so warm and solid, his jaw slightly rough with stubble too pale to see. A smile spreads across his face when he finally catches himself in his frenzy, slowing his frantic pace to something much more gentle and languid.

“What do you want for breakfast?” he purrs into your mouth, sliding his tongue over your own before you can respond, “I want crepes.”

The sun disappears from behind your eyelids, and you feel the cool surface of his kitchen counter as he sets you on top of it. With free hands, he explores the soft stretch of your legs, slipping between them as you continue to tug at his lips greedily. The clock hasn’t even hit 9 AM yet, but the ache settling into your core is beginning to burn. There was something so pathetically irresistible about seeing him so comfortable, so unguarded, it felt like you weren’t just a visitor to his bed. And that was a dangerous precipice to be standing on.

“Are you always so needy in the morning?” he laughs against your throat, a whine slipping free from his tease, “This what I’ve been missing out on?”

When his tongue swipes over your searing skin, your fingers lock into his hair as he explores the throat you bare to him. It’s those open-mouthed, lingering tastes that he tortures you with that have your hips flicking in search of friction, so he gives you his thigh, pulling you down to perch on it and dragging you over the slim, firm muscle. You know you look desperate and unkempt, but he keeps you moving enough to have you spasming as you find release and go lax in his hold.

“So…” he practically sings, a lilt of conceit in his tone, “Crepes?”

“It’s too early for crepes,” you pant, confused by his choice of a morning meal.

“Pfft, for you maybe! You want any or no?”

After dressing in a hoodie and sweatpants, Satoru leaves with a quick peck to your forehead, promising to be quick before the door clicks and locks behind him. Seconds later, a fluffy head of white hair pokes back in, his keys still rattling in the lock.

“Don’t use your phone,” he instructs, “Or open the door.”

You passed the time tidying the space up. There isn’t much that needs to be done, but you get into a steady rhythm that you’re all too familiar with, wiping down counters, picking up laundry, and you almost make the mistake of leaving the apartment to take out the trash before remembering his warning to not open the door.

As you begin to wipe down the bathroom, the sharp scent of the cleaner burning at your nose, you realize the ease he’d infused into you this morning has all but dried up. You watch as your hand trembles around the rag, a terrified reflection coming into view as you circle the white foam off the glass, revealing the truth of what lies beneath the crumbling facade.

“What are you doing?” a smooth voice asks from behind you, causing you to yelp and your heart to skip a beat, “Are you cleaning my bathroom?”

“Uh…” you stammer, still reeling from the shock, “Yeah.”

“Don’t… You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh. I’m sorry–”

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry.”

With that he walks off, yelling over his shoulder that food was here and to hurry up before it got cold. You’d become so accustomed to being scolded for not being busy tidying something up that having him go and do the opposite had thrown you for a loop. When your own house had been too clean to keep you working, you’d been sent somewhere else to help, your existence nothing more than a housemaid for the Kamo clan. You’re own fault, you’d been told, with such a useless cursed technique what else would there be for you to do?

“C’mon!” he calls, “I’m being nice and waiting!”

Where a pile of cream-filled crepes sat in front of Satoru, a much more normal option was beside his on the table, a paper bag sitting on the couch in front of it. He paid you no mind as you cautiously pulled the bag towards you, peering inside to find a dress and jacket that cost far too much money.

“Satoru–” you scolded, squashing the leap your heart did into your throat, “I can’t pay–”

“Didn’t ask you to,” he cut off again, “You can’t go out in that.”

Right. You’re going to see an apartment today. Suddenly, what little appetite you’d mustered was gone, but you slink down onto the couch anyway, trying to eat as much as you can with a boulder in your stomach.

“What’s a’matter?” he asks with a full mouth, “I thought you liked that place.”

Adding a heaping pile of guilt to what you were already carrying threatened to shatter you, but you set a smile on your face and force the food down. His knee rests against yours, his long legs spread wide, his focus honed on his phone as he types away with one thumb. The furrow of his brow has you wondering if it’s just more trouble you’re causing him, technically now with clothes proper enough to be seen in public wearing, you could leave him free of whatever burden you’d inadvertently placed on his shoulders.

When his phone begins to vibrate with a call, he throws his overly sweetened crepe back onto its wrapping and wipes his hands on his shorts, greeting whoever it is with a cheekful of whipped cream and dough.

“If you’re calling me with more shit news…oh really!? So kind of him…I’d love to hear how that conversation went…Tell me…It is important…It is…Because I said it is…God damnit, Yaga!...”

The next bit of the conversation even you could hear thanks to tempers flaring and voices rising: “He said she’s your problem now.”

You can’t leave the apartment fast enough, even in nothing but Satoru’s baggy clothes. He yells at you to wait as you run to the door, circling down the stairs as fast as you can with tears dripping down your face. When you make it out onto the sidewalk, a solid chest and two long arms pull you in immediately, and you don’t need to see the person’s face to know exactly who it is. It’s easy to forget what he’s truly capable of. He probably leapt right off the balcony.

“I’m too tired for this,” he sighs, the agitation he was masking slipping through, “Go inside. Please.”

“No,” you argue, trying to shove him away, his hands easily catching yours and trapping them in cuffs of long, dexterous fingers.

“I just want to sleep for two fucking hours! Please, go inside!”

“You’re free to go–”

“Oh my God! Shut up already!”

It’s embarrassing how easily he hoists you over his shoulder like a tantruming child and carries you inside, sitting you on the couch and flopping down beside you, his head falling into your lap like it was a pillow.

“You piss me off,” he mumbles, curling an arm around you as his eyes drift closed, “I never do anything I don’t wanna do. Thought you knew that by now.”

A lingering drop falls from your cheek into his still tangled hair, your fingers instinctively moving to swipe it away but instead digging deeper, scraping against his scalp soothingly. He rumbles in appreciation, already drifting off, and so you continue. The steady, slow breaths exhaled through parted lips assure you he’s getting the sleep he desperately needs. You know he’d stayed awake all night anticipating another uninvited guest to his door, and who knows if he’d even managed the night before. He claimed he never slept on missions, unable to relax enough to find even a semblance of peace away from home.

Three hours later, he hasn’t moved. A small braid sits across his temple, keeping some of the strands that had been falling into his eyes neatly twisted away. You’ve barely been able to keep your eyes off of him, your wandering touch having moved from his hair to trace the sharp features of his face ever-so-gently to not wake him.

“I love you,” you whisper to ears that can’t hear you, hoping it alleviates the weight bearing down on your chest. It doesn’t.

You can’t see him again. At this point, being with him only has the potential to throw you deeper into this void you’re hurtling down. After seeing this apartment, you’ll find a hotel and take the weight of your problems off his shoulders. You know he has more than enough of his own to handle, sometimes you can’t help but think it’s a miracle he’s still standing.

The thought makes your chest tighten, and it’s simply more evidence this cord needs to be cut. He’s got his little black book and you’re simply just another number. You’re not even fun anymore, the baggage you carry is too much to bear to still be considered a good time. Whatever responsibility he feels for you is displaced, just because it all blew up right outside his front door doesn’t make this—you—his problem.

“Hmmm,” he hums twenty minutes later, his face nuzzling down into your legs as his arms around you tighten, “What time is it?”

“Two-ish…” you reply, trying to keep your voice level, but when his fingers pull up the hem of his shirt you’re wearing and his lips press softly against your stomach there’s no helping the sharp gasp that betrays you.

Within seconds he’s twisted you onto your back against the armrest, greedy hands tugging your borrowed shorts still loosely hanging off your hips down and off. White hair fills your fists as your spine arches off the couch, Satoru’s lips locking around your clit and suckling hard. All thoughts of never seeing him again are quickly thrown out the window. His palms hold your thighs spread wide as his silver tongue finally tastes what you’d denied him last night. He’s the only man who ever has, and he’s the only one you ever want to.

His thin, sharp nose drags over your clit as he laps at your entrance, your legs begging to clamp down around his ears as searing heat boils in your belly. It’s pathetic how you’re already trembling, but it only spurs him on, your eager response to his affections is always his greatest motivation. Despite his tongue being buried deep, it isn’t enough. You still feel so empty and your body instinctively asks–begs–for more by rolling your hips over his face, searching for anything to satiate the hunger. There is no surrender in his appetite, however. In a battle of wills, he always comes out on top, and today is no exception.

“You taste so good,” he hums against your soaked core, half-drunk on nothing but you.

“Please,” you whine, keening when he teases your back entrance with a taunting flick.

“M’gonna take care of you.”

Something foreign and tranquil washes over you in a steady wave, and Satoru immediately pauses when you go slack beneath him and sink into the plush material of the couch. As he presses his lips in a reverent trail from your hip to your throat, pushing the baggy shirt you’re wearing up to clear his path, you relax even further.

You trust him. You love him.

Your fingers are still locked in his hair when you hear his quiet request beneath your ear: “Can I?”

It’s such a stupid, juvenile thing, but it’s something you’ve been denied in all the years of this… situation, so you nod, taking a deep breath in a poor attempt to calm your nerves. Your pulse is thrumming with anticipation beneath his mouth, and the moment he clamps down hard enough to sting, he thrusts into your wet heat as blood pools beneath the fragile skin his tongue soothes over.

He does it again, decorating the dip of your collarbone as the spongy head of his dick kisses your cervix, and you’re limp, taking anything and everything he’s willing to give. Let him decorate you, claim you, fuck you until you’re incoherent, it doesn’t matter. Just as long as it’s him and he doesn’t stop.

“So wet…” he praises, groaning when his words cause you to tighten around him.

Always for you, you think as his tongue dives between your parted lips, the taste of yourself still lingering. The gentle way he cradles your jaw is the complete opposite of the speed of his hips battering into you. He’s chasing something he can’t quite reach, whether that be a sensation or an emotion you can’t tell, but he’s looking, willing himself to find this answer even if it kills him. Every stolen kiss seems to connect his wayward thoughts, but when he starts to whimper into your mouth and his pace begins to falter, you know the friction of his cock dragging along your walls has consumed him.

“I can’t–” he stammers when you lock your ankles on his lower back, tightening around him further, “Fuck, baby, that’s n-not helping.”

“Give it to me, Toru.” One last time. “Pl-please, I want it.”

There’s barely time to take a breath before you’re on your stomach, ass being pulled straight up into the air, his shaft filling your gaping hole so deep you can feel the pressure in your chest. Long, slender fingers find your swollen clit and being moving in steady, quick circles, and at this point all you can do is scream and cry out until he’s shooting hot, thick ropes of cum into your spasming cunt, your own orgasm ripping through you, leaving you boneless and drooling.

“Shit…” he pants, his phone vibrating on the table in what has to be a third attempt at a call in the last two minutes, “Gimme a second.”

The bedroom door closes as you slump down into a heap, the mess between your thighs getting sticky and uncomfortable as you adjust to the emptiness returning. It’s tempting to sneak out now, if it wasn’t for your current debauched state. You’re still so surrounded by him, the couch smells like his stupid cologne, your thighs are quivering, and you can still feel the tips of his fingers digging into your hips. Maybe you’ll never be free.

“Okay, princess,” he coos, lifting you off the couch bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom, “Quick shower then we gotta go.”

By four o'clock, you’re heading out the door, donned in a new dress accompanied by Satoru in sleek black pants and a silky black button-down, bag in hand. It’s an overnight bag, you can tell from the size and also because you caught him packing it in a rush. He hadn’t seen you, well, at least as far as you could tell, and as much as you wanted to believe he was heading out on a mission, you couldn’t convince yourself of it. The phone call he had to talk out of earshot, the fancy clothes he wore just to go tour some shitty apartment, the bag…you’re well aware of what it all means. You don’t even let the fact he’s opening your car door for you distract you from the knowledge he’ll be doing the exact same gesture to another tonight.

“Okay,” he sings out as he slides into the driver’s seat, “Ready to go?”

All you do is nod, keeping your eyes focused out your window.

“Why’re you so quiet?” he complains–whines–five minutes into the drive, “It’s boring.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest, “Where is this apartment?”

“What apartment?”

“The one we’re going to see?”

“Oh…riiiight. That apartment. You don’t really want to go look at that, do you?”

He can sense your anger bubbling in the cramped space, but he laughs when he looks over to find you staring daggers at him, nostrils flared.

Relax!” he chuckles, “So worked up over nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Satoru!” you yell back, groaning when your body betrays you for a moment and relaxes when his hand falls to your inner thigh, his thumb rubbing softly up and down over your exposed skin, “My life is a wreck!”

“When hasn’t it been?”

“You arranged that apartment. And now we’re not going?” You have to change the subject before you combust.

“Well, you said I couldn’t pay for it, and you can’t pay for it. Not yet anyway–”

“Yeah, thanks for the reminder. So, what now then!?”

“Dinner!”

The car comes to a screeching halt outside of a ramen place, and you burst into tears.

“Hey…” He’s frantic, leaning over the center console to take your face in his hand, “Hey…no-no-no. Don’t do that.”

“What am I supposed to do?!” you scream at him, your cheeks already soaked and eyes swollen, “Just go in there and eat ramen like nothing is wrong!?”

“I mean…yeah. Why not?”

“Fuck you!”

It’s a battle when you try to get out of the car, his left hand continuously locking the doors as his right attempts to stop you from pulling at the handle at all. He’s grunting ‘stop’ and ‘listen’ and ‘calm down’ but his words fall on deaf ears.

“Why won’t you just let me go?!” you finally sob, both of you panting and flustered.

“Because…” he replies quietly, threading his fingers with yours, however unresponsive they are, “Will you stay in the damn car?”

You don’t answer, but you don’t move to leave either, and he takes that as confirmation. With a heavy sigh (and an empty stomach) he takes off down the road until you’re outside the city, finally pulling into a large gated property. Flowers surround you on all sides, and the sound of a fountain in a pond pairs serendipitously with the birds singing the sun away as it begins to dip closer to the horizon. The house nestled amongst the gardens is massive, winding paths of stone leading through the rainbows of blooms, and you can’t help but be entirely awestruck for a moment before confusion settles. Satoru opens the door with his keys, pulling you inside the manor that’s every bit as impressive on the inside as it is outside.

“Where are we?” you ask harshly, pulling your hand free of his.

“The Gojo Estate,” he answers so casually you want to throw a shoe at the back of his head.

“What are we doing here?”

“I’m showing you around. It beats Kento’s buddy’s apartment, dontcha think?”

Not even the coldest winds could have frozen you in place so quickly. He’s brought the overnight bag from the back of the car in with him, tossing it onto the kitchen counter before opening the fridge and grinning when he finds a bottle of strawberry soda waiting for him on the shelf.

“There’s more to the place than the foyer!” He’s moved out of sight now, but not far judging by how close he still sounds, “C’mere! Don’t be shy now.”

He’s waiting on a porch overlooking the pond you’d heard earlier, koi fish gently swimming in the clear water without a care in the world. If you’d thought the city suited him before, it was nothing compared to the sight of him framed by lush greenery and the unhindered glow of sunset. He looks every bit the part of clan head here, oozing authority and confidence as he leans with his back against the railing, smirking as you cautiously approach.

“What are we doing here?” you ask again, meek and quiet, all signs of anger gone.

“Giving you options,” he answers, gloating almost, but trepidation is still laced with what you recognize as false conviction.

“I can’t live here.”

“Why not?”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not. I mean, you wouldn’t be living alone. No one should live alone here, that’s why I don’t. What if I slip in the shower and no one finds me for days? Ha! Could you imagine…”

“Satoru!”

Does he know what he’s asking? Does he know what it means? If it means nothing to him, fine, but you? The idea of it has you tensing and pushing back tears, your bottom lip trembling as you allow the fantasy of a home and a life to slip through the cracks forming in your barriers you keep it behind. His fingers are chilled from the glass bottle he’s been holding, the sharp contrast against your burning cheeks causing you to gasp and you’re met by infinite blue eyes staring down at you.

“Look,” he begins, his tongue darting out to wet his perfect pink pout, “I…” He sighs, closing his eyes to gather his thoughts, “Why didn’t you ask me to get you out of there sooner?”

The question hits you like a ton of bricks. You’d been asking yourself the same thing since it all blew up last night.

“I didn’t think you’d want to,” you answer truthfully, “If it’s not me, you have someone else–” “There is no one else. There never has been.”

“What?”

“There is no one else.”

No one else? His lips press softly against yours as you stand in stunned silence. All these years thinking you were second to twenty, and there had never been another?

“Say it again,” he breathes into your slackened jaw, and your brow furrows in confusion.

“What…” you blubber, meeting the galaxies living in his gaze once again.

“Tell me again.”

A tight grip on your wrist tugs your hand up to what remains of the braid still twisted in his hair from his nap earlier, you hadn’t realized it had survived both the shower and what transpired before it, but it had clearly held on tight. Too many thoughts buzz around in your head for you to comprehend what the hell he's asking for until he requests it one more time, his voice cracking like his life hinges on knowing if what he’d heard was real or a figment of his overactive imagination.

And then it clicks. Your heart comes to a skidding halt as fear runs cold through your veins, and you try to run but his arm curls around your waist, holding you in place.

“I…” your tongue is paralyzed, a phrase you’ve never uttered to another person knotting and twisting, “You were asleep.” It’s such a cop-out, and the way his face falls shatters your heart.

“Right, thought so,” he concedes, “Okay. Well, do you want to see–”

“I love you.”

The words spill out so suddenly you’re clasping your hands over your traitorous lips, the urge to flee burning in your legs, and he smiles. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he leans in, pulling your wrist to free your shock-slackened lips from their cage, and kisses you.

This kiss is different. It’s softer, lingering, it’s the kind of kiss that welcomes you home after a long day and melts the toils and tribulations you faced away. While your hands shoot to the kitchen counter behind you and your knuckles go white in an iron-like grip, the tips of his fingers brush down your cheek so gingerly a shudder shoots down your spine. You’ve never been touched so softly, with so much…you can’t think it.

“Again,” he whispers, and you reply with those little three words in just as hushed a tone, “Again.”

With every repetition, the words fall with more grace and his smile grows. Your cheeks are burning, nerves fluttering to life in your belly, but when he asks for the fifth time to hear you say that phrase, you close the distance between your bodies, grab his jaw in both hands and finally with conviction you tell him the truth: “Satoru. I love you. I don’t kn—mmph!”

As quick as it is, the force of his lips crashing into yours is bruising. There’s nothing tactful about it, he just needs contact and he needs it now.

“Love you,” he murmurs, and you understand immediately the incessant nagging to hear those words over and over.

You know someone, at some point, had said that to you, but time has robbed you of the memory. This is the first time you can ever recall hearing it, and something breaks down inside of you faster than you can keep up with. His chest is there to collapse into as the tides roll in, tears pouring from your eyes as relief washes over your storm-stricken shores. The space carved out in his embrace fits you like a glove, your head tucked neatly below his cheek as he leans down to swaddle you in tight. You’re shaking and sobbing but this time he doesn’t ask you to stop, because he understands. It’s the same for him.

“Can we go to dinner now?” you sniffle, wiping your nose on the back of your hand, gazing up at him with glassy eyes.

“Nah,” he brushes off, “I’ll order something. There’s a shirt for you in the bag, take your pick.”

Donned in a t-shirt that hangs down to the middle of your thighs, you’re perched on the couch beside Satoru with a spread of food on the table before you once again. He puts on some movie but you aren’t paying attention, all you can concentrate on is trying to convince yourself it’s over. It’s done. You’re home. But too many years have passed, and it’ll take time.

“What, Yaga?” Satoru barks into his phone, “I’m not going…I’m not going…Find someone else.”

“What was that?” you ask as he tosses it away, looking over at you with eyes glowing in the dim light.

“Oh, a mission abroad. It usually goes to me but…”

There are more important things now.

“They can figure it out,” he chuckles with that signature aloof, pompous lilt, slinging his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in.

Maybe it won’t take as long to get used to this as you think.

Sorry this took so long!!!

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo fanfic #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fanfic #jjk smut

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lordsukunas · 8 months ago

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“i think forever would be nice with you.”

synop. kunigami wants to be with you for life.

tags. fem!reader (called ma’am once), fluff fluff fluff, uh a bit of angst if u really really really squint, reader is a tease and kind of a pessimist (or maybe a realistic idk up to u), kunigami is head over heels, dont ask when this would happen in canon bc idk, not proofread

note. ngl im tired asf... if this is incoherent, im sorry. the ending is vv awkward, mb. uhhhh man idk what else to say kunigami is the sweetest boy alive. this is inspired by one of those timtok slideshows, the one thing that app has done good forme

you flop back on the sand, chest heaving up and down from trying (and failing) to race kunigami. sweat rolls down the side of your face and neck, and you can feel the gritty sand clinging to your bare feet and legs.

“tired?” he plops down on the sand beside you and reaches for your hand. his larger, thicker fingers intertwine with yours, and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, as if to comfort you after your shameful loss.

“very,” you huff out. your lungs burn as you gulp down air. “how do you— how do you do this every week?”

he shrugs. “habit. started when i was kid, found it fun, so i kept doing it. helps me stay in shape whenever i don’t wanna go to the gym or just need some time alone.”

his free finger doodles the face of a polar bear in the sand. you smile — it’s cute how he knows how to draw that from memory.

your eyes roll to look at him. his face is shiny with sweat, and the pale moonlight softens his features, giving kunigami almost a boyish look.

there’s no one else here. just you, kunigami, and the sounds of the waves lapping against each other and the shore. the beach is clean, too. not a crumpled beer can or a plastic wrapper in sight.

“does anyone else even know this place exists?” there’s that familiar teasing lilt in your voice, but he knows you’re serious.

he scratches the back of his head. “nah. i mean, there’s the occasional fisherman or maybe some elderly couple, but i don’t think anyone our age knows about this.”

“huh.”

a pause, and the warm breeze blows across your skin, dusting the sand away.

you grin. “so you’re just gonna gatekeep this for eternity, huh?”

“what? no!” you can practically feel his cheeks heating up from here. “i didn’t wanna ruin it by bringing the wrong people here, y’know? they might trash it or somethin’.”

“and what if i trash it?”

“you won’t.” kunigami’s reply is instant, the words shooting out of his mouth and into the night’s atmosphere. “you’re special.”

whatever goofy reply you had on your tongue instantly melts, and you’re pretty sure your heart skips a beat or two. how can he say such romantic things so... so casually?

“i, uh...” he sighs and goes back to tracing shapes in the sand, his hand still holding on tightly to yours. “you wouldn’t do something like that. even if you did, i’ll be right there to clean it up.”

you push yourself up so that you’re sitting criss-cross. your entire body is facing him now. “but what if we break up? or you move away?”

“i won’t. we won’t.”

your brows knit together. “rensuke, you don’t know that.”

something is bound to happen. something always happens. nothing good lasts forever, right? he’s in blue lock, dedicating weeks at a time to train and play in tournaments to be the world’s best striker — at some point, he’s going to have to choose. you or his football career.

even to yourself, you sound pessimistic. but you just have to be honest with yourself. life isn’t a fairytale, despite kunigami being your knight in shining armor.

“i want forever with you.”

his gaze meets yours, determination burning in auburn irises. “i’m not gonna sit here and lie to you or be embarrassed about it, ‘cause it’s true.”

you blink, and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs.

kunigami, your boyfriend of two years, wants forever with you.

it’s ridiculous, fantastical, a hundred other synonymous terms. both of you are seventeen — you have decades and decades ahead of you to decide when you want and who you’re going to spend forever with.

and he chose you.

his adam’s apple bobs, but his gaze doesn’t waver. “do you want forever with me?” his grip on your hand tightens.

“yeah.”

you don’t have to think about it. there’s nothing to think about it. it’s dumb and unrealistic, sure, but when has kunigami ever broken a promise? when has he ever lied to you?

it doesn’t take decades of being together to know that kunigami loves you with all of his heart, and you love him just the same.

your lips curl into a smile, and you can’t tell whether your vision is getting blurry from happy or sad tears. “i want forever with you.”

“okay.” he adjusts himself so that, now, both of you are facing each other. his shins touch yours, and his other hand grabs yours.

“‘okay’? that’s it? after you basically just proposed to me?” you raise an eyebrow. “with no ring, either! you could’ve gotten me a ring pop.”

kunigami chuckles, the tension seeping out of his bulky form. “sorry. i’ll get you a ring pop on the way back.”

“two ring pops, actually, and they better be the right flavor.”

“yes, ma’am.”

#﹒writing #blue lock #blue lock fluff #bllk #bllk fluff #blue lock kunigami #bllk kunigami #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #kunigami rensuke #kunigami x reader #kunigami x you #kunigami rensuke x reader #kunigami rensuke x you

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mythicmin · 2 years ago

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Overwatch NSFW Alphabet(s)

MDNI!! If you are under the age of 18, please DNI. Character requests are OPEN. Just slide into my ask box and specify which character you’d like to see :)

𝑱𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆 𝑴𝒄𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒆 / 𝑪𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒚

A = Aftercare ;

McCree is a firm believer in aftercare. Chances are you aren’t getting up to do ANYTHING for at least an hour. (unless he has somewhere he needs to rush to.) Need to pee? He’s gonna carry you. Thirsty? Hungry? Give him a second, he’ll be right back with your favorite drink/snack.

B = Body part ;

You can’t look me dead in my eyes and tell me he isn’t an ass man. He’s practically obsessed with it. Doesn’t matter where you’re at or who you’re with, chances are he’s got his hand on your ass or in your back pocket.

C = Cum ;

Bro is definitely a slut for facials if he can’t cum inside of you. There’s just something possessive about it, like he’s marking you as his.

D = Dirty secret ;

Secretly wants to get topped, cmon he’s a cocky little shit. Put him in his place and make him beg for you. ❤︎︎

E = Experience ;

I am a firm believer in thinking he’s got some kind of old fashioned way of thinking. He knows what he likes, but doesn’t have much experience with it. I know we all love fuckboy McCree, but him being a virgin makes me giggle.

F = Favorite position ;

Doggie. Need I say more?

G = Goofy ;

Bro is a whole clown in bed and you can’t change my mind. He knows how to act serious when need be, but he always wants to see you smile. Even if he’s balls deep in you.

H = Hair ;

I think he manscapes a bit, he’s never bare though. There’s always some sort of hair framing his cock, clean shaven just isn’t his style.

I = Intimacy ;

Lil western baby treats you like the princess/prince you are. Sure he loves fucking your brains out, but making love to you is another favorite past time.

J = Jack off / Masterbate ;

I don’t really know to be honest, I feel like he’d think he’s too busy to get himself off. But maybe it’s just hidden cockiness that only you can get him off.

K = Kink ;

Anal. I know this man eats ass as well. I just know it. Bro also definitely has a daddy kink. (or maybe that’s bc i’m projecting bc he’s so fine.)

L = Location ;

Anywhere.

M = Motivation ;

He really gets going when you slowly touch his arms/chest while making eye contact.

N = No ;

Sadly, threesomes. I think he’s just too possessive.

O = Oral ;

He loves both giving and receiving, but he enjoys making you fall apart with his mouth. Playing with that cigar should’ve warned you he was gonna be a beast with his tongue.

P = Pace ;

Whichever you want. He can deliver both fast or slow.

Q = Quickie ;

Loves them. Especially if y’all are out and about doing something.

R = Risk ;

He literally doesn’t care if y’all get caught with him balls deep in you.

S = Stamina ;

I feel like he cums fairly fast, but can go for a few rounds.

T = Toys ;

He’s iffy on them. He wants to be the one to make you feel good, but watching you thrash against the vibrator he’s holding gets him feeling some typa way.

U = Unfair ;

He’s so mean sometimes, bro is a WHOLE ASS tease and he knows it.

V = Volume ;

I don’t feel like he’s overly loud in the moaning or groaning criteria, but he’s definitely a smooth talker blowing your back in.

W = Wild card ;

Pull his hair while he’s giving you head and bro is putty in your hands.

X = X-ray ;

6” soft , a lil over 7” hard. (circumcised)

Y = Yearning ;

I SWEAR THIS MAN CAN TURN HIS SEX DRIVE OFF AND ON DEPENDING ON HOW MUCH OF A COCKY BASTARD HE WANTS TO BE.

Z = Zzz ;

Always waits until you’re asleep first.

god i love this man.

hope you enjoyed!! lmk who y’all wanna see next ! ❤︎︎

#overwatch x reader #overwatch #overwatch smut #mccree #cole cassidy #jesse mccree #cole cassidy x reader #jesse mccree x reader #mccree x reader #cassidy x reader

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hellojuiceboxbaby · 6 months ago

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I saw a post by another user getting into the already prevalent shipping discourse about Crystal and Charles and how she’s “getting in the way” of paynland. Please read their post, they talk about how it’s a load of bullshit.

I want to talk about why Crystal and Charles work, the potential longevity of their relationship and how it doesn’t affect the paynland ship anyway. (And this is coming from a paynland shipper and someone who wanted Crystal to be crushing on Niko lol).

First of all, when I watched the show within 10 minutes (like most people did) I very much assumed that Charles and Edwin were gay for each other. I’d hoped in my heart it was going to be a potential plot line because it was so obvious the boys were in love with each other. Their already established dynamic made it easy to see that.

Then Crystal was introduced and shifted their partnership dynamic. She challenged Edwin in a way Charles never did, ultimately being one of the catalysts to his self discovery the led to paynland actually being a possibility (everyone say thank you Crystal). Edwin didn’t hate Crystal because she was stealing Charles away from him. There’s no doubt in his mind that even if Charles and Crystal were to stay together that Charles wouldn’t still love him and prioritize their relationship, and Charles reassures him of this constantly.

What Edwin is bothered by is having to deal with an inexperienced human, who has no idea why they do what they do, getting in the way of them solving cases that matter to them. Which is figured out pretty quickly when she proves herself to be an asset to the agency and they enter into a sibling like dynamic with wonderful banter I love to see.

What I enjoyed most about Crystal and Charles (if I’m completely honest) is their very out in the open flirting and the way she rejected his advances multiple times but he persisted anyway. Charles gives off a “will go for anything that breaths in his direction” vibes especially when he defends Crystal by saying it’s fun to have someone their own age around.

Also it’s so refreshing to see a black girl being paired with someone who isn’t white (I’m black lol). The bwwm ship dynamic is so overdone in media. In fact the woc x white man dynamic is so prevalent in media today that I just assumed they wouldn’t actually get together. I thought the show runners were just dangling forbidden fruit in my face lol. They do work as a couple because they give off mean bisexual gf with her golden retriever bf to me.

I’m just gonna say it as well because it’s worth thinking about before this fandom gets too crowded and opinionated, but why do you see a woc (especially a blk woman) being in a relationship with one of the mmc and immediately see them as ruining your favorite ship or as causing queer erasure? If we all watched the same show you’d know that Crystal didn’t get in the way of anything. And why don’t you feel that way about Monty of the Cat Kings pursuing Edwin?

Im not gonna dissect paynland as a ship because im so bad at understanding the nuances of male relationships lol as a bi woman. I can talk at lengths about the potential for Niko and Crystal if yous want me to though.

Anyway drink water lovely people <3

#dead boy detectives #charles rowland #crystal palace #edwin payne #the dead boy detectives #niko sasaki #the cat king #monty the crow #paynland #painland #steph speaks

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thewriterg · 1 year ago

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐍𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐀𝐛𝐜𝐬

pairing(s);hobie brown x fem!reader, hobie brown x male!reader

summary; you see the title!

word count; around 2k

warning(s); everyone mentioned is 19+, smut.

A/n;—GIFs; @cowboysfuck— The debates going down with the age of everyone in atsv has me shaking in my boots so just know Hobie is a good and legal yummy adult in this 💀

🕷️Aftercare

Being completely and totally honest, babe he’s not cleaning you up.

I know the truth hurts but we have to stop the lies :(

If you meet him at one of his sets or the pub something like that? He’s viewing it as a quick fuck

He’s. A. Whore.

I mean we all seen that slutty ass waist right!?

He’s ran through! 😔

but I’m gonna feed into just a little 🤏🏽

If you happen to be in a relationship/fuck buddies he’s definitely a little more caring

After you both finish hes spooning you pawing his loads back in your cunt when it begins to seep out while lying kisses and bites up you shoulder that will darken by sunrise

Or you’re on top of him your cock slightly twitching inside of him acting as a plug so none of your cum is leaving him hes definitely panting feeling so full of you you as your head rest in the crook of his neck him rubbing his palm over your head down the nape of your neck

He’ll throw the blankets over you both maybe give you some water from the water bottle that sat on his nightstand for a week

🕷️Body Part

Hobies favorite part of you isn’t a body part but your beliefs!

Everyone’s entitled to their own opinions he supports that much BUT

If you can have your own opinion and stand on it!!?

like could see the opposing sides argument take it into consideration and still go to war for your own personal value

On his knees.

He’s that one viral sound where’s its like;

“And I’ll be there for them. With open arms, open legs, and a open mouth 🙂”

Is definitely dropping to his knees to give you head in the next fifteen minutes no matter where

The wrap up of todays lesson he’s just not into shallow people

His favorite part of himself however is his hands more specifically his fingers

If he need to learn a faster tempo place for a song he’s trying to learn you’re going to be his study buddy

“You’re helpin’ me so much thanks lovie” He muttered his index and middle fingers working at a god like pace in and out of your holes beginning to work you up to three as you tried to blink the dots out of your vision moaning at a pitch

He finally got down the song <3

🕷️Cum

Anywhere on your body where he can visibly see

For my girls he’s definitely going for the boobs he’s a tittie man!

For the guys he’s still going for your chest/stomach area

Cum on his face!

Soon there will not be a drop left

hes gonna be that “I eat it all” cat meme

“Gonna c-cum on you’re pretty fucking face, you fucking s-slut” You’re groaning while he’s looking up at you with his big puppy eyes your clit bumping against his nose or when his mouth finally reaches the base of your angry cock whining against the length massaging your balls while being hard as a rock himself a puddle of pre cum resting on his abs

🕷️Dirty Secret

HES A SWITCH.

Goes perfectly with the whole not believing in consistency

I can’t picture Hobie sticking to one roll anyway 💀

I will gladly die on that hill alone if I have to I don’t care.

One day he’s bending you over in a alleyway forcing your hands on a brick wall muttering about how much of a fucking whore you are for dressing in that wife beater your nipple poking through the thin fabric and getting him hard

Next day he’s pathetically humping your loafer/heel under your desk while you have a meeting on your laptop above muffling his loud whine against your leg before you feel his tears on your leg when you shrug your foot away from his aching cock ruining his orgasm

Take this with a grain of salt if you please

But-

You can not sit up here and tell me him and his band members haven’t fucked at least once

This band specifically! Turn down your volume 😟

LIKE!?

that story however is for another day

He has a dick piercing.

A Prince Albert one maybe?

He did it himsel

“Feel tha’ cold ‘ittle bar in your pretty ‘ole?” He would groan pressing down on your abdomen where he can feel himself bottoming out of you before thrusting in deeper than humanly possible grabbing your jaw forcing you to stare into each others soul as he fucks you deep

🕷️Experience

He’s is/was a whore depending on your relationship

He’s ran through, passed around, fucked out.

Loves when you show you’ll always be his best though

“Can’t hear you speak up whore” You hissed wrapping your hand around his neck lifting him up causing his back to arch pleasure painfully as you stop ramming into his hole causing him to whimper as you cock/strap stills in him

“No one f-fucks me like you do, please” He’s whining pathetically moaning in relief when you continue abusing his hole tears slipping past his eyes down to his cheeks

🕷️Favorite position

#1 Missionary!

It’s where either of you can get the deepest

“Look a tha’ feel me in your fuckin’ belly?” He would groan taking one of your hands pressing it against your abdomen as his cock moves in and out of you slowly hitting you spot repeatedly with your ankles crossed against his back

#2 Spooning

Has a lot of lazy mornings of when he’s waking up hard

You happened to already have the same idea 🙀

(#1 somno partaking couple)

Hobie would whimper in his sleep as he felt something warm around his cock and pressure on his lap of you backing up into him wouldn’t wake up until about the third time you’d lower down

In the mornings/where he doesn’t really have a sense on mobility or surrounding is where you’d easily pull the most noises from him

“You feel s-so good, so good birdy”

He’s cumming quick.

🕷️Goofy

Other than like a crack of a smirk?

I’m not really getting a goofy vibe from Hobie

Probably would just tease the fuck out of each other

🕷️Hair

HE HAS A HAPPY TRAIL.

His hair down there is curly and coarse he’ll trim it every once in a while but other than that doesn’t really bother

Most definitely does not give a flying fuck if you decide to shave or not

“Maybe another night ‘bee I didn’t get to shave”

And he’s just like

🤨.

≥))≥

| \_

“Your point?”

🕷️Intimacy

The thought makes him cringe internally

He can get down with it though but it’s mostly saved for important dates like anniversaries, birthdays, achievements, etc.

If you aren’t that intimate of a person that’s even better

But sometimes just take the time out to pull him aside slipping your hands down his jeans and into his boxers gently stroking his cock running your thumb over his slit whispering about how proud you are of him

“You’ve been doing so well I’m so proud of you”

DIHERHBRRIDIN he’s brain dead you murdered his brain into mush

🕷️Jack off

Will when he’s on a mission that takes longer than expected will probably take a video muttering how much he misses you while stroking his aching cock

But something else?

He can be a good boy when he wants

Put a cockring on him tell him if he lasts all day he can get a reward?

Struggling hard asf but will not touch himself cause what’s better than being your good boy!? ‼️🦅

🕷️Kink

Probably almost everything in the damn book but here are his mains

#1; Praise/Degradation

Just the right amount of both driving everyone up the wall

“Look at you takin’ my cock like a fuckin’ champ, that’s wha’ sluts do isn’t that right?” He mutters flash light kissing your skin as he records you on his phone pushing the back of your head down on his dick as you gag around the bask saliva and precum all around your mouth and cheeks

#2; Slapping/Spanking

I’m getting heavy rag doll vibes

Will purposely get you rilled up and jealous before slipping away before you can reach him essentially a game of cat and mouse

when you finally catch him you’re grabbing him by the back of his neck to a bathroom or alleyway

“You wanna be a fucking whore I’ll show you what they get” You hissed and he’s more than aroused as you pull down his trousers him thinking he was about to get the roughest railing/fingering of his life just for you to land a harsh slap on his ass!?

Rock hard.

“Please ‘m sorry, please” Would end up crying cause it hurt yet felt so good

brain was foggy asf

When you deemed it enough for now you pulled his pants back up dragging him back to whatever function you were at ignoring his subtle gestures to get you both back to his side place

You force his ass to go sit tf down somewhere 💪🏽‼️🦅

Smirking like a mf when you watch him subtly groan feeling the distance stinging pain on his ass while trying to get through the conversation

#3; Being/having a cum dump

This is kinda icky for some people and I get it so read with caution ⚠️

Not only is he going to fill you up!? He’s going to plug you up .

Will literally make you go out all day with your cum in him

If you’re a spidey?

Will have your walking around the spider society looking a bit “bloated” little does everyone know you’re literally plugged with Hobies loads

Or when you’re at home will come behind you and rub his palms over your full belly

Feral.

But sometimes he need to be check so switch the roles

How this would happen is, he would talk big shit and place a bet of who was gonna cum first when both of you had a vibrator pressed against your designated places

He lost.

Would definitely try to hit you with that “I don’t believe in loosing 🙄” shit

But

A bet is a bet

And so

For a whole 24 hours both of you having to go on a mission that day he had dildo shoved up his ass

It’s very funny seeing him slightly limp when he walks as the fake cock sits snugly in his ass kissing his prostate at any slight turn or bumb in the road or when he turns the corner too sharply while swinging

by the end of the day HES DEAD.

would definitely do it again

🕷️Location

Boobs.

🕷️Motivation

When you hype yourself up or carry yourself with confidence!?

Hobies like

🗣️ “SIGN ME TF UP!”

Gets off on it so quick

🕷️No

This might be a little controversial and me self projecting but

Do not pull his hair.

His wicks are very delicate and as POC Caribbean native/Black to be specific not a big fan when it comes to messing with our hair

Scratch his back, slap him, spank him, choke him, anything else but pulling his hair.

🕷️Oral

Oral fixation

On some rough nights where he can’t sleep!? His moth will end up on your clit/cock

Is a Cock/Pussy drinker!

Holds down your thighs when you cum and he keeps going to keep you from retreating or bucking your hips

Gives head for his own pleasure tbh

🕷️Place

EVERYWHERE

Will fuck you anywhere and everywhere grinning like the god damn chesire cat

We’re gonna get more into this in ‘Risk’

🕷️Quickie

Absolutely

Behind stage before he goes on will without a doubt have you propped up against something fingering you at an alarming rate

“Gotta make sure my fingers don’t cram up yeah?”

🕷️Risk

What we’ve all been waiting for 🙀

You’ve probably fucked all over London and New York if you’re a spidey person lmao

One of the most jaw dropping places you’ve both had sex was probably the top of an abandoned building as the sun was beginning to set

“See tha’? Almost looks as pretty as you lovie” Hobie muttered thrusting his cock into your hole as your hands grip onto the railing moaning breathlessly before he groans from behind

Then probably an alley

“Shut up before you get us caught, but you would like that wouldn’t you?” You hissed your back pressed against the cold stone wall while Hobie thrusted into you hips bucking occasionally letting out a too loud whine

If you’re a spidey you’re really just talking because your senses would guide you to when someone’s coming or not

Hobie usually is able to sense it to but he’s seems too fucked out to even care

ONCE YALL DID IT IN A POOL BATHROOM!?

“Baby we can’t there’s to many kids around here”

Hobie is the #1 🗣️ “FUCK THEM KIDS” cheerleader

Does not, will not, still can’t not seem to give a single fuc-

🕷️Sext

Yes

You have made him cut band practice short more times he cares to count

‘3 attachments 1 video’ just something to get you through until practice is over <3

IS GETTING TF ON

Coming home to you with a pep in his step

He has and will send you videos of him jerking himself off when either of you are on missions or if you’re at work

“See how fuckin’ hard I am for you birdy? Cock misses you s’much we need you” You can hear his gruff voice cracking behind the camera as he strokes his cock running his thumb over his slit

He will send you whimper audios once every blue moon

anyways both of you guys are yummy!

🕷️Toys

Yes, yes, and yes

I have plenty examples already

So we’re just going to leave this as yes

…

Tbh he has a fuckin VARIETY

Stop I need to go now 😔✋🏽

🕷️Unfair

The biggest fucking tease ever

If you can keep up with him it’s for the greater good if you can’t, you must be left to the wolves 😖

One time you came home from Work/patrol tired as ever and he was on you the minute you were in the door

“Not tonight hon I’m too tired” You muttered taking your shoes off my the door followed along by your jacket etc

“I’ll do the work you can just flop down and star fish it out” You we static at the thought

Just for this mf to deny you at least four time before you fucking lost it flipped positions shoving his face in the mattress all tiredness out the window

“Said you were gonna take fucking care of me but since you wanna be a little whore we’ll see how you like it”

It was a long night

🕷️Volume

Hobie can be very vocal when he wants Mewls, moans, cries, whimpers, whines you name it

He knows his sounds get you off but sometimes he’ll be an asshole brat and keep them from you

But you’ll fix that shit up real quick I believe in you!

🕷️Wild Card

HIM AMD HIS BAND FUCKED/FUCKS.

🕷️X ray

He’s definitely a shower!

7.5 inches 8 when he’s hard

🕷️Yes

Mark him up

Hickeys, hand prints, bruises he needs it all

Does the same for you

Especially if you’re a spidey the bruises won’t stay long with your inhuman abilities

So y’all are running back to each other when they quickly begin to fade

🕷️Zzz

Hobie thinks he’s nocturnal

He’s not sleeping on the normal night so he’s not really sleepy on a intimate one either before he met you

Only time he’s really knocked is if he was in a subier space

Which he’s commonly in

So you’re putting him to sleep one way or another

💌💌💌💌

Oh wow funny seeing you here after two weeks 😅

I have so many drafts of my baby Hobs

Anyway if you could answer the poll down below much would be appreciated!

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brainrot #hobie brown x you #hobie brown smut #spider punk #spider punk smut #atsv smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #romance #fluff #smut #fem!reader #male!reader #gn!reader #i love you #geegeeisawhoreontherun #thewriterg #2023

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rainbowchaox · 1 year ago

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QSMP! Phil Character Analysis and How It Relates to Pissa

Okay so this is primarily coming from my tired thoughts in the discord run by the true pissa general aka @pepper-mintzyy. I’m gonna flesh it out here with much more detail.

I first came to this whole analysis because Phil always makes subtle characters. Most of his characters don’t verbalize what his motives or emotions. And his characters are always on the show not tell. And this is important because this trait of our his characters is the same in Qsmp!Phil and it’s a important to realize how this is so important to the pissa ship as whole . Because it’s literally why cubito Phil reacts the way he does towards those he especially loves (Aka Missa)

Phil loves to be subtle with his characters. Like I said above he is a show not tell with his characters. Usually his characters are layered and complicated. So much so he is never really honest with his own emotions. Primarily as a way to make sure he is ready for the next threat. The next enemy. He worries so much for the possibilities of danger he feels he can’t be distracted by emotions. He rather repress emotions then those he loves and cares for actually be in danger because he couldn’t get his emotions in check.

So knowing this of course he got paired with Missa whose emotions bleed out like ink. For the better or for the worse (Maybe I will eventually do a twin analysis on Missa character and how it relates to the pissa ship on a later date.)

And this is unknown territory for Philza. Because Philza as a character is always in survival mode. Sure Missa is emotional and illogical at times. But Missa is kind and gentle. And Philza is not used to this. But Missa as a person brings calm and comfort. Philza doesn’t feel like he could be in fight any minute when he is with Missa. Sure Missa can’t protect him in terms of fighting mobs. But Philza doesn’t need him to do so. Philza just wants him there.

So of course Philza will start to see Missa differently. And I think he knows he loves Missa. Philza isn’t dumb to his own feelings. He just can’t bring himself to say it verbally in case of possible danger. It’s hard for him to do things that go against his idea of being ready, of being strong, of being able to not be weak. Even if his perceived weakness is actually a strength.

So his love for Missa primarily comes out in loyalty, of waiting for him to come back when anybody else would have given up, in gifts, and in simple gestures that look like nothing but is actually everything. In the fact he matched his backpack to fit Missa. The fact he was so worried about him when he came back. I truly believe he knows he loves Missa. But whether it’s the paranoia or stubbornness he can’t bring himself to show that fact so clearly.

He isn’t a idiot. He isn’t emotionless. He knows who he hates. Who annoys him. And who he loves. But showing that emotional side out in the open. To others who might use that fact against him to harm those he loves. He can’t have that.

So he never says I love you in words. He says I love you with new armor. He says I love you bandaging wounds. He says I love you watching your blind spot and protecting you in battle. He says I love you by giving you his utmost loyalty. A gift hardest to get and the hardest to lose. And maybe he never says I love you to Missa in words.

That doesn’t mean he loves Missa any less. They are equal in their adoration. Philza emotions are a flame under the ice. Intense in passion and loyalty. I think a part of him is scared of his own emotions. And it probably took him ages to get to a point where he could control the pyre so to speak.

But he is just a person. And people are all selfish to a point. He is a brewing contradiction of a man. He wants both worlds. He wants to proclaim he loves Missa on top of a mountain. He want’s everyone to be jealous of him and Missa. He wants a true commitment.

But also we wants safety, he wants logic, He wants not to be weak and to protect without being overwhelmed by his own emotions. He is a complicated contradiction of a man. And his actions hurt him more than anything. He wants to be with Missa so badly but he can’t bring himself to fully let himself. But the fact is he adores Missa. He will possibly do anything for Missa and his family. And maybe one day he can see. He can be the protector and have Missa in the way he actually wants. That he so called WEAKNESS might be his greatest strength. That loving someone doesn’t mean he will lose them right after. He loves Missa. And he fully want to scream that fact.

#qsmp #pissa #Deathduo #shipping #PEPPER look what you made me do #pissa newspaper

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caufield193 · 7 months ago

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Just being honest here but I am trying so hard to not hate Judith… not because I hate her but because of all these yt feminist who only started liking her because RJ exist. It’s hilarious how they use her to hide their racism. Idk if it’s just me, but anytime someone says anything untrue but harmful about Rj, no one bats an eyelash… there are literal hashtags of people bullying the real kid but that’s okay. His Instagram is filled with folks calling him the N word.Yet the moment someone says something true about judith, who is FICTIONAL!!! NOT A REAL HUMAN BEING.( her not being ricks, and being the product of Shane ) man they get soooo upset… and we all know why!

Rick wanted RJ… this isn’t the same for Judith, but he learned to love her.

RJ is ricks legacy, and Judith is not. Yt feminist are accustomed to seeing themselves as wanted, as desired, and when a melanated little boy was desired and planned for, and not the child of a love affair between a white Baby mama and her baby daddy… their true colors show. Historically and stereotypically, a baby mama was a black woman begging to be free… except Michonne is so loved, and chosen, and declared to be the love of ricks life. So often, a black woman has a baby with no support, a baby by a different man, yet Rick truly wanted and planned for his little namesake. Michonne was content, Rick is the one who Wanted RJ. So when you have a flipped narrative where Lori, a white woman is the baby mama to Shane, bringing a white child to Rick that by yt feminist standards, Rick should want her and not have mixed feelings like we saw him have in the beginning, considering he couldn’t even look at Judith when she was first born. (considering that a normal human would have a hard time accepting a child that will forever remind you of how shitty your wife and best friend were) usually it would be a black child in Judith’s shoes, but it’s not. Rick has two kids, and the black one was wanted, planned for in a two parent and healthy home that wasn’t toxic, unlike Judith, who comes from a background usually associated with blackness

They use exscuses like, “ he’s not badass he doesn’t do anything like Carl .” But let’s be honest. RJ is 7… we’ve never seen Carl that young.. yet we’ve seen Judith at Carls age, and yet she hasn’t done anything remotely cool like Carl. So if anyone’s got plot armor it’s her… or they’ll say, RJ had awkward lines, when his made the most sense as he always considered his father the brave man. That is the only thing he knew him as.

Listen, I love how Michonne loves Judith because she truly adopted her, not because she had to but because she wanted to…. But I am so happy that Rick, a white man who married a black woman wants his biracial son, cared about his personality, and not just whether he was alive or not, because it really is making these dude bros upset… and yt feminist

It’s the fact that you can make fun of any child on the show, but god forbid you make fun of Judith or say something that’s the true, it’s the end of the world… a hit dog gonna holler

Have you ever noticed.. it’s okay to say RJ doesn’t deserve the hat… despite him being a grimes. It’s okay to say “RJ live execution.” It’s okay to say that RJ is lame and weak, despite him being 7. But if you point out that Rick has a hard time accepting Judith in the beginning, if you point out that he dreams of Carl and Michonne to stay alive at the CRM, but dreaming of Judith never even crossed him mind… if you point out that everytime Rick asked about Judith it was only to ensure that she was alive… which is on brand considering he told Michonne, “ I had to accept that… so I could keep her alive.” Not so he could love her or bond with her… if you point out all these little nuggets that shows that Rick, a fictional man, struggled to accept a fictional child that will forever carry the DNA of Shane and Lori… suddenly every yt feminist within two mile radius becomes triggered.. I’m just sick of it. Truly I hope there is a S2, where RJ is older and more marketed… purely just to piss certain people off.

#richonne #rj grimes #rick and michonne #michonne

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spiderlilyserendipity · 2 years ago

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The 57.1% Bad Idea 🔞

WC: 3602 (3.6K)

Genres: fluff, smut, E2L

Tags: slight corruption kink, oc is a virgin, dom! yoongi, sub! reader, dom/sub elements, no titles set for this so not proper bdsm but yk, big dick yoongi, praise!!!!!!, oc is a tomboy in the streets and a pillow princess in the sheets send tweet, i am going to hell for this but i blame yoongi’s sexiness for it, this was supposed to be a lot kinkier originally but i’m too soft for soft dom yoongi.

Warnings: tipsy (but consensual!) sex, protected sex, age difference in reader & yoongi (10 years), oc is 23, myg is 33.

You might be new to the industry, but you know when someone is fucking with you.

Of course, you’ve heard all the rumours. How the legendary BTS are workaholics, working up to 18 hours a day when they first debuted. You get that, and to be honest, you respect it. But they’re not newly debuted kids anymore, damn it! It is 2026 already, 13 years since their debut, but all of the members are still grinding their damn gears like it’s day one. And fine, you can respect the dedication, but that doesn’t warrant the hell a certain Min Yoongi — also known as Producer Min — has been putting you through.

You don’t see the celebrity face to face due to his killer schedules, but you get many annoying emails from him ever since you started working as one of the new in-house producers. Redo this, this isn’t what I’m looking for, the members don’t like the key on this one, and over and over.

You let it slide the first 5 or so times, but it’s getting old now. You’re only 23 years old damn it, not an old man like that Min Yoongi guy must be, that all he does is sit and write music! You have a life.

But no one cares because this is the oh so great BTS you have to serve hand and foot.

You’re out for dinner with your friends when Min Yoongi emails you at 8pm. Who is even logged into their work email that late? This multi-millionaire, apparently.

You sigh, putting down your utensils to pick up your phone. You brace yourself for another email where Yoongi tells you that you don’t meet his high standards. Go figure.

Hello Miss Y/L/N. I looked at your arrangement, but it still needs some cleaning up.

If you recall, this is the 5th email I have sent you and we are still not communicating. Can you call me instead?

You want to bang your head against a wall. It is a Friday night. Who the hell wants to call a man 10 years their senior and be lectured on a Friday night?

“Y/N, where are you going?” Your friends ask.

“To deal with an asshole named Min Yoongi.”

“Min Yoongi?!?” Your friend gasps. You sigh internally. You forget some of your friends are ARMYs, hence why you never complain about how annoying Min Yoongi is to them. “Did he give you his number? Are you going to see him? Can I get a—”

“Yes I have his number. I don’t know if I have to see him tonight. And no, I won’t get you a signed album.” You answer, reading your friend’s mind. Your other friends all laugh as Sunmi looks disappointed. You sigh, smiling at her. “Work is work. I love you but sorry. I gotta go.”

Understanding work, your friends let you go.

You get out of the restaurant, still cursing Yoongi. You get in your car and dial the number Yoongi gave you.

“Hello?” Yoongi picks up on the third ring. You scowl. As if he didn’t know I was gonna call.

You plaster your work smile on, knowing you’re really fucked if you piss Min Yoongi off. You might not like the guy, but a girl has bills to pay. “Hello Producer Min. It’s me, Y/N.”

“Producer Y/L/N.” Yoongi corrects you, and you roll your eyes. “Where are you at the moment?”

“I’m out right now with my friends.” You set boundaries firmly. “I am not at work, but if you can show me what you meant, I will fix up the arrangement accordingly.”

Yoongi scoffs. Your blood boils. “How will you know what I mean unless you have your laptop out? You’re awfully cocky for a new hire.”

You clench the steering wheel tight with one hand. “I am not working at the moment, Producer Min. It is 8 pm.”

Yoongi laughs at you. Like, actually laughs. “Do you know we need this song recorded by Wednesday? If I don’t have a clean instrumental, how is my team supposed to record it?”

There it is, the inevitable scolding. You pull down the little fold-away sun blocker/mirror thing in your car and check your makeup. You got dressed up cute tonight, a white floral dress and light pink eyeshadow and matching pink lipstick. Your hair is even styled back in a cute half up half down hairstyle. You don’t usually look so girly, preferring comfortable clothes like sweats and tshirts, though you respect girls who put in that effort every day. But for you, the reason is your friend from college, Nate, is stopping by later tonight. You had always had a crush on him since you sat in lectures together.

You hate the idea of Yoongi being the one to see you so cute and especially hate having a meeting with him instead of getting to see Nate tonight.

But a girl has bills to pay. “What would you like me to do?” You ask.

“I have an at-home studio that I work in on the weekends. Stop by just for thirty minutes and then go back to your friends.”

You roll your eyes. You already told your friends goodbye. Besides, it would be weird to just butt back in again after leaving. You close the mirror and fold it up. Guess your only date tonight is Min Yoongi. “Please text me your address. I will be there soon.”

🎀🎀🎀

You hate the look on Min Yoongi’s face when you walk up to him in the underground parking lot. You hate rich people and their fancy apartments. It took you forever to convince the security guard in the front that yes, you were a guest of Min Yoongi despite your run down car from college. And then, when you get through that hassle, you find Yoongi waiting at the elevator with a card in hand to swipe you in.

If you were gonna be nice, you could’ve told the security guard I was coming. You frown, bowing hello.

“I should’ve told the security guard you were coming, huh?” Yoongi grins at you, tapping the card to get inside. You jolt in surprise, wondering if this mean producer is also a mind-reader. You eye him suspiciously as you get in the elevator. It’s a fancy elevator with luxurious looking buttons and the logo of the fancy apartment complex this building is in. But you’re more nervous about the fact that Yoongi just read your mind.

Seeing you look shocked, Yoongi presses the button for the 7th floor. “I saw you showing your work ID to the security guard at the front.” He says. You clench your teeth. If he knew, why not help you? Damn rich people.

You follow Yoongi when the doors open on the 7th floor. The apartment hall looks kind of like a fancy hotel until you get to Yoongi’s door and he taps his own passcode to get in.

The house is deceivingly large for an apartment, all black and white coloured vases, art on the walls, and black marble floors that are definitely worth more than your life savings. You follow Yoongi, walking on eggshells already. He leads you past a fancy living room with white sofas and an all black kitchen and upstairs to the second floor. With his back to you, you openly marvel at how cool everything is. You guess being a crazy workaholic does pay out for some people.

🎀🎀🎀

It’s nearing midnight now and you’re still stuck here with Yoongi. The work is finally done, but at the cost of your sanity and Yoongi’s incessant nagging.

Feeling your irritation, Yoongi makes the rare attempt at a peace offering. “Should we have a glass of whiskey now that we’re done working?”

Tired but unable to resist the temptation of some good alcohol, you take up his offer. “Sure.”

Yoongi steps away from his computer, walking away down the hall to the kitchen. In a few minutes, he returns with a bottle of alcohol and two small glasses. “It’s 57.1% alcohol. Can you drink that strong?” He asks, arching a brow. Your ego flairs.

“Yes.” You reply confidently, knowing good and well you’re a lightweight. You let him pour you a glass, then take a sip. As expected, it burns, and not particularly in a good way.

“Who are you all dolled up for anyway; is it a guy you like?” Yoongi asks curiously.

“No, that guy has a girlfriend.” You admit, not sure why you’re having this conversation with Yoongi.

Yoongi frowns. “So? Can’t you be pretty for yourself?”

You sigh. “I can, but it’s still disappointing. I wanted to be his really bad.” You mumble.

“...In...Be his in what way?”

You drink down the rest of the alcohol, shocking Yoongi, who stares at you. You muster up your courage, feeling the alcohol already starting to sink in. “What do you mean, exactly?”

Yoongi clears his throat, continuing to work. “Never mind.”

“I wanted to date him.” You admit, sober enough to know you’ll regret saying this tomorrow but tipsy enough to not care at this moment. “I wanted to get close to him and maybe… I don’t know.”

“Maybe what?” Yoongi pushes you.

You look down at your phone. “Maybe...do that with him.”

Yoongi is frowning at you now. “You mean sex?” You fluster so bad at the word you drop your phone, right into a pile of cables under Yoongi’s desk.

You sigh loudly, no longer hiding how frustrated you are. You get out of your chair and onto your knees, lowering your head to look around for your phone. Just your luck, it’s stuck in a pile of wires.

Noticing you fumble with it, Yoongi’s legs turn toward you. “Need some help with that?”

You look up as much as you can from under the table. You find yourself looking right into Min Yoongi’s piercing black eyes. They’re dark from a hazy look in them and the shadows cast by his bangs. You have only just realized you’re sitting between his legs. When Yoongi smirks at you, you bang your head on the underside of the desk. Yoongi laughs under his breath at you, but doesn’t move.

You grab your phone and push up on Yoongi’s knee to stand. But just your luck, you slip on your stockings.

Before you can fall flat on your face, a pair of large hands wrap around your waist and pull you into Yoongi’s lap. You let out a noise as you fall, but Yoongi is unfazed as you fall against him. His strong arms wrap around your back, holding you sideways on top of him.

“S-Sorry.” You blurt immediately, turning away from his face. Too close!

You try to get up, but Yoongi’s arms tighten around you. “What are you sorry for Y/N?” He asks in a low, deep voice. A shiver runs down your spine at how he’s looking at you. Then, he smirks. “Drunk from just one sip of my whiskey?”

You shake your head, trying to get up again. You absentmindedly place a hand on Yoongi’s chest to get up, but freeze when you feel his strong muscles through your shirt. A little tipsy, you’re not very quick-minded and linger a moment. “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“Producer Min…” You whisper, swallowing audibly. “I think I need to go home.”

“Makes sense since it’s late. But I drank so I can’t drive you.”

“I can get a cab.” You say, looking at your hand on his chest. Was his chest always that wide and strong? You blush.

“What about your car? You will have to leave it here if you catch a cab. Won’t you need that for work on Monday?”

You pout. “Can’t I come get it later?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Guest parking isn’t allowed for more than 12 hours. It’ll get towed if you leave it here”

You frown. “Meanie.”

Yoongi grins at how cute you look. “Sorry doll, I didn’t make the rules.”

You sigh. You don’t know who to call to come get you either. Most of your friends are probably drunk by now since it’s Friday night, and it’s not like you can tell your parents to pick you up drunk from a guy’s house at midnight.

“...Producer Min.” You start hesitantly. Yoongi continues grinning at you, which is oddly scarier than if he was frowning. “C-Could I borrow a room tonight?”

Yoongi’s eyebrows lift. “You’re the youngest producer in our company and I’m the most senior artist. Do you think you’re allowed to do that?”

You wriggle in Yoongi’s lap in frustration, making him tighten his hold on you. His smile falls away to a dark look. “Behave.” Yoongi says, stirring something inside of you.

“I know I’m not allowed but it’s not my fault! You’re the one that made me come here.”

“You’re the one that didn’t do a good job in the first place.” Yoongi rebuttals.

You let out a whine in frustration. “Yoongi! Can’t you ever be nice to me? I did my best, I really did!” You don’t know why the hell Min Yoongi’s standards are so high in the first place, you always did amazing on your assignments when you majored in music!

“Yoongi?” Yoongi repeats. He leans in, making you flush and look away. As you bury your head in his shoulder, he whispers in your ear. “Is that what behaving looks like, doll?”

“Ugh, just tell me if I can borrow the room!” You demand but Yoongi doesn’t entertain you at all.

“Do you know what I think this looks like?” Yoongi’s low voice sends chills all over your body. His hands slowly rub circles in unison, one on the back of your thighs and the other on your lower back. You stay completely still, although you’re not sure why, anticipating what he is going to say. “I think you’re acting up because I got in the way of you losing your virginity tonight.”

You gasp at how Yoongi reads your mind again. You hadn’t told anyone that, not even your best friend but somehow Yoongi knew. Yes, in your ideal case, Nate would return your feelings and you could hook up tonight. It’s not like you’re waiting for marriage, just that you’ve never liked a guy enough to do it yet.

So why are the insides of your thighs so sticky just from Min Yoongi(the man you hate)’s words?

You whimper against the side of Yoongi’s neck when his hand on the back of your thigh brushes close to the space between your thighs. If he presses any closer to your core, he would feel how wet you are.

“Is that true, Y/N?” Yoongi whispers, dangerously sweet. You whine again as he pulls one of your bra straps through the material of your dress and lets it snap against your back. “Give me an answer.”

“Y-Yes. I wanted to lose my virginity tonight.” You admit, embarrassed at how breathless you are.

“Should I make up for it then?” Yoongi asks.

You gasp. You push off and this time Yoongi lets you. You stand up, blushing.

Yoongi stands slowly, no longer cheeky. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes sincerely. He looks away. “I-It must’ve been the whiskey. God, what am I doing? You're ten years younger than me. Here, let me call you a driver.” He rambles, pulling out his cellphone.

You put a hand on his wrist, startled by his sharp change in attitude. Yoongi stills under your touch. He looks at you with worry. “Do you want to go home? Or you can borrow my room. I-I mean the extra one. It has a lock on the door, don’t worry.” Yoongi flusters, talking faster now.

“Y--Min PD.” You say, finally making him look at you. “It’s okay.”

Yoongi still shakes his head. “No, I was...I was overconfident. And I crossed a professional boundary tonight. It’s not okay, and you don’t need to forgive me for making you uncomfortable--”

You silence him with a kiss.

Yoongi pauses, then pulls away from the kiss. He holds you at arms length. “Y/N.” He says it extremely seriously. “What did that just mean?”

You look down. “...Isn’t that what I should do to s-start us?”

Yoongi cups your face and makes you look at him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said something so insensitive. Personally, I don’t really think virginity is a thing, but if it matters to you then it matters. I won’t force you.”

“Yoongi, I want to.” You say sincerely. Yoongi blushes. “I haven’t been waiting for anyone special or anything. It’s… I never decided to go all the way.”

Yoongi hesitates. “Are you sure?”

You nod. Yoongi sighs in relief. “Thank god. I was going crazy from how pretty you look.” He admits, before leaning in to kiss you senseless.

You shiver at his touch, pulling him in closer.

“Like that, baby?” Yoongi kisses your neck. You whine and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Yes, yes.” You answer, and he scoops you up into his arms, leading you towards his bedroom.

“Good.” Yoongi chuckles. He lays you down gently like a bride, then begins looking for a condom in his bedside drawer.

“W-What about you?” You ask.

Yoongi returns with the condom and a bottle of lube beside him, peering at you curiously. You flush at the sight of his hard cock which he easily slides a large condom on top of without breaking eye contact with you. “What do you mean?”

“A-Are you okay?” You ask, not sure how to sexily reaffirm consent. Yoongi laughs, really laughs. He leans down and presses a delicate kiss to your forehead.

“Yes sweetheart.” He chuckles.

When you wriggle under him, his gaze darkens. “Behave.” He whispers in your ear, nipping at your earlobe. You yelp, making him laugh again as he rubs his hands up and down your sides.

He works three fingers inside you again, checking that you’re not still tense before he presses the head of his cock to your entrance. You whimper at the stretch, making Yoongi hesitate. “Need more time, doll?” he asks, pressing his forehead against yours.

“N-No.” You reply, squeezing your eyes shut. Slowly, Yoongi enters inch by inch until he’s in to the hilt. You grip his shoulders, waiting for the slight burn to fade. Yoongi does a great job warming you up, but his cock is just a bit too big for you to take comfortably. “Y-Yoongi.”

Yoongi lets out a breathy moan. “Yes baby?” He asks.

“F-Feels so full.” You breathe out, making Yoongi grip your hips tighter.

“Yeah baby? Feel full of me?” He urges you on, voice deep and husky from arousal. He waits until you’re comfortable, looking up at him with hazy eyes to start moving. He starts slow, making you arch up but he holds you down firmly. “Want me to use you up properly since it’s your first time, huh? That’s why you keep acting like a brat.” He punctuates the word with a deep thrust that has you scrambling for purchase in the sheets.

You whine and Yoongi finally has enough of it. He takes both of your hands in one of his and pins them above your head. He picks up his pace, eyes never looking away from your body. He watches you strain to arch up against his hold with a cocky smile, before pressing kisses to your breasts. “Good girl.” he praises when you stop fighting for control, dissolving completely into a pile of whimpers. “So good. So fucking wet.” Yoongi growls, picking up his pace.

“Y-Yoongi!” You cry out and he silences you with a hot, powerful kiss.

“I know, baby.” He reassures, unspoken promise in his voice. “I’m here.”

“Y-Yoongi.” You warn a few moments later, and Yoongi gives your cheek a kiss.

“Trust me, baby. I’ll let you come.” He promises, and you nod, believing him.

Finally, Yoongi’s hips start to stutter, and he reaches between your legs and rubs your clit. He pulls you flush against him when you come, trembling from how good it was.

“Good girl. So sweet for me.” He praises, peppering your face with kisses. You wrap your arms around his middle and sigh in satisfaction.

The two of you lay there like that for an indefinite time, until you speak up. “Yoongi?”

“Yes, baby?” He asks, rubbing the back of your head.

“Am I gonna get fired for this?”

Yoongi pulls back and looks at you. “Why would you get fired for us dating?”

You’re surprised. “We’re dating?”

Yoongi blushes. “I mean, unless you don’t want to. Either way, no one will find out because it’s just between—”

“Can we take it slow? My head is spinning right now.” You giggle. Yoongi smiles warmly at you.

“Of course. But first let me clean you up.” He says, and you let him carry you to the bathroom.

In the shower, Yoongi once again proves he is true to his word. He cleans you up and changes the bedsheets. While he’s changing them, he brings you a cup of tea while you wait and kisses your forehead.

“Yoongi, have you had a crush on me this whole time?” You ask, once situated in bed again.

“Haven’t you?”

You think about it, then grin. “I guess I just needed some liquid courage to realize it.”

Yoongi snorts, pulling you in closer. “That was the best purchase of my life.”

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts smut

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sentientcave · 14 days ago

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Hit Me With Your Best Shot

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Chapter 3- Busted

<Prev Chapter -

Contains: OC x Gaz, Lorelai "Rory" "Scout" Blackmoore-Price, Age gap romance (Scout is roughly 25), Annoying old men, Schemes and Plots, Mentions of John Price's many divorces, Poor decisions, alcohol mention, embarrassing conversations with a parent, Brandon (Derogative), Inadvisable Flirting x2 electric boogaloo, Gaz does not know what he wants and he makes it everyone elses problem

~6.4k - 18+ Only - MDNI

“Mornin’, Scout. Goin’ for a run?”

Rory screwed the top onto her water bottle and turned slowly, frowning at Gaz. He was, for some unfathomable reason, dressed for a run himself, and grinning a little too widely. “Uh. Yeah.”

“I’ll join you.” Not even an ask, just an statement. “See if you can keep up with me.”

Rory really didn’t like the purr of suggestion in his voice. That spelled trouble. “Listen, you—”

“Good morning,” John said, clapping Gaz on the shoulder as he came into the kitchen. He gave Scout a half hug and kissed the top of her head.

“When did you get in?” Rory asked. “I didn’t hear the door.”

“Late. Things didn’t work out with Carrie, so I went back to base to do some paperwork and debrief Soap and the kids when they got in.” He shrugged. “Go have your run, if you’re feelin’ nosy I’ll tell you over breakfast when you get back.”

“Alright. I’m probably not going to feel nosy, but I look forward to you telling me anyway. Be back in an hour or so.” Rory pushed past Gaz and headed for the door. He followed close on her heels, like he was worried that she’d take off without him if he didn’t. Which was fair, because she would have skipped her warm-ups and taken off if it meant shaking him loose.

She shot him a glare from between her legs when she dipped down to touch her toes. He was very openly ogling her, hands on his hips.

“Do you mind?” she asked.

He grinned, entirely “No. I don’t mind at all.”

“What’s your problem?” she asked. “You’re all over the place.” She didn’t wait for a response before she bounded away, light on her feet.

Gaz leapt into action, quickly catching up, setting a pace that looked infuriatingly easy beside her. She resisted the urge to run full out so early, before her muscles were fully warmed up, but it was so tempting when Gaz opened his mouth again. “Look, there’s obviously something here. Neither of us wants there to be, but I think it’s pretty hard to deny at this point.”

“There isn’t. Could you try not to imprint on the only woman in your immediate vicinity? You’re embarrassing yourself.”

He laughed, shaking his head, but he dropped it, blessedly, until she stopped for a water break at her usual halfway point. He motioned for her to toss him the water bottle.

“Why didn’t you bring your own?”

“Aw, come on Scout, didn’t we learn our lesson about sharing last night?”

“Apparently not! I think the lesson was that we shouldn’t or Ghost will point a gun at your head. I don’t want your old man germs anyway.”

“I’m not afraid of Ghost.”

“Then you fell out of one too many helicopters,” she snapped, but she handed over the water bottle anyway. It was too early to get into an argument.

“There’s a good girl,” he said.

“Garrick, I’m going to kill you if you keep that up.”

“You could try. You gonna come out with us tonight? Soap’s back with the rest of the kids, and we always go out for drinks. You’d get on with ‘em.”

“Uh, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“With Soap and Ghost there to keep an eye on us? I think you’ll be just fine.”

“I’ll think about it. Might see what Bill’s up to. I’d rather hang out with her, if I’m being honest.”

He handed back the water, shrugging. “It’s no big deal if you don’t want to. Just thought I should offer.”

“I’ll think about it. Now come on. I need a coffee before I can deal with any more nonsense from you.” She tucked the water back into her sling bag and hit the road again, looking very forward to getting into the shower and getting a moment alone. He was going to be a pain in the arse if he kept this up.

John was, as always, drinking his coffee and smoking a cigar when they returned. Scout hit the ground to do her usual stretches, and Gaz headed straight in for a shower.

“You two gettin’ on alright?” John asked. “You look a bit sour.”

“He’s just—” Scout thought about what she could say that wouldn’t get either her or Gaz in trouble. “He’s just an interruption to my routine. I’ll adjust.”

“Got a routine, do you?” John asked. “Not just layin’ about?”

Rory rolled her eyes. “Dad. You know I’m not. I’m a Blackmoore-Price, we don’t know how to do nothing. I literally just published a new book yesterday. Do not ask to read it.”

“That’s five now, and you still won’t let me read them?” John asked. “Has Sadie read them?”

She grimaced. If he knew that her mum hadn’t just read them, but read first drafts and advised her, he’d start getting a lot more insistent. “No,” she lied. “Mum’s too busy to read my silly little stories.” Another lie. Sadie always made time for her.

John made an unconvinced noise. “Scout, I just want to support you. You should let me.”

“It’s just embarrassing. I’ll think about it, okay? You can read my next one. Even the rough draft if you want, it’s kind of a spy thriller, you might like it. I was going to try publishing it under my own name and everything.” Rory grinned. “And mom hasn’t read that one at all.”

John hummed, blue eyes sharp. “I thought you said she hadn’t read any of them.”

Busted. “Yeah, alright, she has.”

“I thought as much. If you don’t let me read the rest I’m going to get nosy, and you won’t like that.” He pointed his cigar at her, the threat meant lightly, but serious enough that Scout knew he meant business. He was already a nosy old man and thought that was normal, if he was going to get what he considered nosy then Scout would have zero privacy. Not ideal for a grown woman living with a parent.

“Fuck. Fine. I’ll drop them on your desk. Do not speak to me about them. I don’t think I can handle the embarrassment. I’ve a delicate constitution.”

“No you don’t. Thank you, pumpkin.”

Rory rolled her eyes and pushed herself back up onto her feet. “If I die from humiliation it’ll be all your fault.”

He hummed, shaking his head with amusement. “Go get changed, I’m making pancakes.”

Rory bounced up the stairs, reaching the top just as Gaz exited the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his hips. He was unfairly fit, lean and muscled like a classical statue carved by a very loving hand. The few scars that marred his skin only made him look better, adding a dangerous edge to an almost too perfect body. She dragged her eyes off the bead of water that slid down his chest before it reached far enough to get her in real trouble.

“Put some fucking clothes on!” she hissed.

“I’m about to. You worried you like what you see?”

“I’m worried that you’re a whore, Garrick! Get out of my sight!” Rory whirled around and firmly shut herself in her own room, grimacing. Maybe she should move back to London. At least there she wouldn’t have to worry about this.

She’d have to worry about other things, of course, like the press and the events and the lack of freedom. Out here, even with an overbearing father and his stupid protective friends, she could do a lot more without anyone bothering her about it.

She had a quick shower once she heard Gaz head downstairs, and got fully dressed before she left the bathroom. She wasn’t even going to risk a repeat of last night. Gaz was never going to catch her half-dressed ever again, that was for sure.

“Alright, what happened with Carrie?” Rory asked, throwing herself into one of the island chairs, leaving two seats between her and Gaz, just in case. “You’d been trying to get her to go out for ages.”

John wrinkled his nose. “Turned out she was usin’ me to make her ex jealous. Found out as much when he stormed into her flat when we were havin’ a drink. Didn’t need to be asked to go more’n once.”

“What a bitch,” Rory said, turning a small narrow-eyed glance at Gaz so he knew that her next words were meant for him too. “That’s just childish.”

“Well. It is what it is. How’s your mother doing, Scout?”

“Dad. You can’t keep throwing yourself at mom every time it doesn’t work out with someone else.”

“I suppose she hasn’t changed her mind anyway. Sadie’s even more stubborn than I am.” John handed Scout a mug of coffee and a plate of blueberry pancakes. “Just miss her. She never played games like this.”

“Thanks dad. And honestly, you need to meet someone nice, someone that doesn’t know you as Captain or Major Price, that you can just be, you know, yourself with. Maybe someone without any ex husbands. You have more than enough marital baggage for two people.”

John laughed. “You know anyone?”

“No! I am absolutely not going through that again. My friends are off limits.”

Gaz snickered. “You dated one of her friends?”

“She was older!” John said defensively. “She was a TA for one of Scout’s classes, and they lived together for a bit so we met— That’s besides the point. I’m not the one who’s love life we should be talkin’ about.” He looked at Gaz. “You got a game plan for Billie yet?”

“Not yet. Gonna give her some space, let her realize she misses me. Maybe I’ll bump into her at the grocery store or coffee shop, if I’m lucky.” Gaz dug into his own pancakes and chewed thoughtfully. “But I’m not going out of my way. Might try going on a few dates myself, honestly. Maybe Bill was right. We had a good run. Maybe we should call it.”

“You’re just gonna let her go without a fight?” John asked, sitting down with his own stack of pancakes. “That’s not like you.”

“No offense sir, but I don’t want to be sittin’ where you are down a few years down the line, still chasin’ an ex-wife who doesn’t love me. Maybe I should start lookin’ for someone new.”

“Sadie still loves me. It’d be easier to let her go if she didn’t. It doesn’t all just go away because you sign a few papers.”

“Sometimes people can’t give each other what they need. Love isn’t enough,” Rory said. “It’s just one ingredient. Common goals, clear expectations, communication— These are things that make a relationship last.” She knew that she was talking to some of the thickest men alive, but she still had to try to set them back on course. “You both have to stop thinking about it like that. The ‘she loves me, she loves me not’ shit is for kids on the playground. You’re grown men, and you need to start acting like it.”

John sighed, but Gaz looked down at his breakfast, contemplative. Rory was pretty sure her father was beyond help, but Gaz might not be.

She dropped her books on John’s desk after breakfast, and holed up in her room most of the day, texting her out of town friends about everything that had happened, and checking in to see if Billie was free to hang out that night. She wasn’t, which sucked. Rory wasn’t really keen on the idea of going out with Gaz and his task force, but she liked the idea of staying in the house less.

She was getting restless. Settling into a new place and a new routine had staved off the itch to behave badly for a little while, but she needed to blow off steam or she’d do something really stupid.

It was Brandon that tipped the scales in favour of going out, texting her out of the blue late in the afternoon.

Brandon: Gonna be in London for a week. Would love to see you, Lorelai.

Scout: I don’t live in London.

Brandon: I’d still like to see you. I miss you every day, you know. I get that you’re seeing other people now, but I think we can still work things out.

Seeing other people? Where had he gotten that idea?

Oh, right. Soap and Ghost answering her phone a few weeks ago.

Scout: I’m not. The guys who answered my phone were my dad’s friends.

Brandon: Oh?

Brandon: So you’d be free for dinner next Saturday? I’ll come to you.

Brandon: Hereford, right? If you’re staying with your father.

Rory groaned and tipped herself off her bed. She was definitely going to need a drink now.

Scout: Yeah. Sure. Great.

Brandon: Wonderful (: It’ll be good to see you. And to talk.

Ominous.

She thumped downstairs to make a tea, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen, taking in the view of Gaz shaking his hips to some top one hundred pop song on the radio, chopping up some veg to throw into a bubbling pot that smelled enticingly of curry. He grinned when he noticed her, and reached over to turn down the music. “Hey, Scout. You decide if you’re comin’ out with us tonight?”

She slid past him to grab the kettle and fill it with water. “I think I will. Tea?”

“Please. What changed your mind?”

“My ex is badgering me to go out to dinner with him next week. I’m annoyed by him and I need a drink.”

“What’s his deal, anyway?” Gaz asked. “You were together for a bit.”

“Oh, he’s like, a rich asshole. We met at some fundraiser my mom got invited to, and he was the only person there who was remotely cute, so we hung out all night. And then he wanted to keep hanging out, and then he wanted to date, and I couldn’t really come up with a good reason not to. And then the next thing I knew, we were living together, and his mum started trying to get to know me, and when she started getting all weird, I knew I needed to get out before Brandon proposed. So I moved out over a weekend I knew he wouldn’t be home, and left him a note.” Rory huffed. “Cowardly, I know. But I knew he’d talk me down if I did it face to face.”

Gaz frowned, the few faint lines on his forehead creasing slightly. "That's not what I was expecting."

"I hesitate to ask, but what did you expect?"

"The opposite, I guess. Figured he was some immature college kid who didn't want to commit. Didn't think you would be the one runnin' away."

"With parents like mine?" Rory laughed bitterly, pulling mugs down from the cupboard. "I'm not the rushing in half-cocked type. I'm not going to marry the first guy who makes an offer just 'cause he's there. I don't ever want to go through a divorce, so I'm going to wait until I find someone who gets me. Give myself the best chance I can."

"Admirable. But it doesn't always work out that way. I thought Bill and I got each other."

"That's why I said that common goals and communication are important. You and Billie want different things. You want someone to come home to, and she wants a partner she can grow with. That doesn't work if you're not there."

"How are you such an expert?"

"I listen to what people say to me." The kettle clicked off, and she made tea, letting the radio and the soft domestic sounds of the kitchen fill the space. He was a lot more bearable when he shut his pretty mouth and kept his opinions to himself. She slid one mug to him when she finished, and carried one out to the living room, setting it on the end table next to John. He was reading her book, glasses balanced on the end of his nose.

He murmured his thanks, barely glancing up from the page, and Rory quickly retreated back into the kitchen.

"How d'you know how I take my tea?" Gaz asked.

"It's a splash of milk, its not exactly hard to remember." Rory sipped her tea, wincing when she scalded her tongue. “Do you want me to wash rice for dinner? Since you’ve got everything else covered.”

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s not a lot of effort, Gaz, I think I can handle it.” She didn’t wait for confirmation before she started on the task, gently pushing him out of the way so she could grab the rice cooker out from the island cupboard.

He stayed quiet until she’d finished and pressed the button to start the little machine. “I’m sorry about last night,” he said, and his pretty brown eyes were sincere, voice lacking the usual sardonic edge. “And this morning. Keep actin’ a right tit around you. Gets me right in the ego when you say you’re not interested. And you shouldn’t be— I shouldn’t be. Think I’m just worried that Bill was my only shot, and I’m tryin’ to prove that I still have somethin’ to offer.”

“Refreshingly honest, Garrick,” Rory said. “Keep that up. I’m gonna go shave my legs and figure out what I’m wearing tonight. I’m hoping to get laid. I was texting a guy for a while but he went dead silent on me, so I’m back to square one.”

“I don’t need to know that.”

“What do you care? All I need from you is to keep Captain Clean and Mr. Bones off my back. I already have one over protective dad, really don’t need you lads taking up the task too.” She picked up her tea and headed back upstairs, shaking her head.

She sifted through her closet for the right outfit, laying a few out on the bed while she shaved her legs and ironed the near-permanent ponytail crease out of her hair. It was hard to decide without knowing where they were going, so she asked over dinner, earning a raised eyebrow from John.

“Are the two of you goin’ somewhere?” he asked, the slightest hint of you’d better fuckin’ not be colouring his voice.

Rory pretended not to notice the undercurrent in his voice, even if a flicker of panic skittered across Gaz’s face. “Ghost and Soap invited me to come out and meet the kids. I’m looking forward to meeting Nitro. She sounds fun.” Rory was an expert study in the art of giving her parents just enough information to settle them down. “And I haven’t really been out to see the nightlife in this town yet. I’m pretty sure you can rely on Ghost to keep me out of too much trouble.”

“We’re going to that bar we went to last month,” Gaz said. “But Nitro and Lucky might manage to drag us out to that club they always want to go to. We’ll see.”

“Are you driving?” she asked. “Or are we taking a cab?”

“I’m drivin’,” he confirmed. “If we have to take a cab back or hitch a ride from Ghost, we will.”

“It’s a nice walk too.” Rory hummed, re-evaluating her short-list of outfits. “But that depends on what shoes I’m wearing.”

John nodded, content to leave it at that, just happy that it wasn’t what he had initially jumped to. It was a bit funny that he trusted Gaz so little, although it was hard to say if that was based off of their behaviour, or if he was just remembering some wilder, younger Gaz before Billie. Gaz was a charmer now, but Rory suspected that with looks like his, he could have been a real fuck boy. Probably had been.

With that in mind, she picked a tight black dress that showed off miles of leg, and pulled a pair of black jeans over top. Grown woman or no, she knew her father— There was no way he’d let her out of the house with that much skin showing. She didn’t need to waste energy on a losing battle with John Price before she even made it outside.

She pulled on her shoes while she waited for Gaz, eyeing the book sitting on the coffee table. The bookmark was close to the middle already, but John was keeping his end of the bargain and pointedly not talking about it. He’d been buried in it most of the day, which was terrifying. It was a very weird feeling, sharing her creative work with John. Sadie had always been the parent she opened up to.

Luckily Gaz didn’t take too long to hop down the stairs, wearing a nice button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

“Don’t wait up,” she called over her shoulder as she shuffled Gaz out the door, barely giving him time to snatch his car keys off the hook.

“You know I will,” John called back.

“What’s the rush?” Gaz asked. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

“I know! But dad is reading one of my books and I can’t deal. I need a drink to cope.”

Gaz raised his eyebrows, grinning. “That’s your book?”

Rory groaned, throwing herself into the passenger seat. “Please don’t tell me you’ve read it.”

“Alright,” he said peaceably, turning the keys in the ignition. “I won’t.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Ghost really likes ‘em, recommended them a few times. Hadn’t got around to readin’, but I certainly will now. Does he know you wrote them?”

“No! And please do not tell him. Also, don’t read them. This is all plenty weird enough.” Rory shifted in her seat, kicking her shoes off so she could wriggle her jeans down her legs.

“What— What are you doing?” The panic in Gaz’s voice was very funny.

“I only wore these jeans so I could get out the door without a fight. I told you I was trying to get laid tonight.” She shook her head, folding the discarded denim neatly and tossing it into the backseat. It was like he hadn’t even been listening.

“Fuckin’ hell. You’re a menace.”

“That’s what I’m going for, thank you.”

“You don’t need to show that much leg to get attention, you know. You’re plenty hot with your trousers on.”

“Of course I am,” Rory scoffed. “But I’m not looking for some guy who’s going to appreciate me for my brains and wit, I’m looking for an easy lay in the back of a car from a big stupid military lunkhead who barely respects me.”

“Why?”

“Because if he’s an ass I don’t have to feel bad about using him, and we all get what we want and never speak again.”

“You can do better than that,” Gaz protested.

“Obviously. This isn’t about better, or about long term, or about anything except for sex. Didn’t you have ill-advised hook-ups with girls and boys you didn’t care about when you were my age? I know it was a long time ago, but I’m sure you can think back that far.” Rory shoved her hair over her shoulder and pulled her shoes back on.

“I mean— I guess some. But it’s better when you care about each other.”

“Well, yeah, obviously. But I’m not about to throw myself into another relationship just so I can get some dick. That would be stupid.”

“And fuckin’ some meathead in the back of his car is a real bright idea, yeah?” By the tension in his jaw and the way he gripped the steering wheel, Gaz was really unhappy with her plan for the evening. Was he jealous?

“What’s your problem?”

“Are you so hard up that you’d rather jump on the first cock you see instead of waitin’ for someone that you actually like?”

He was jealous. She really needed to find a way to nip this behaviour in the bud. “It could be ages before I meet someone I actually like. And It’s important to get laid before I see Brandon or he’s gonna work his way under my skirt. He sucks, but not at that.” When he didn’t respond, glaring out the windshield like the road ahead had personally offended him, Rory sighed. “Oh don’t take it personally, Garrick. I’m just looking for easy and uncomplicated. You’re hot, but I think we both know that this” — She gestured to the space between them— “would be extremely complicated. And possibly deadly, in your case.”

He shot her a look that was a little too affronted. “I wasn’t talking about me.”

“Of course not.”

He worked his jaw loose, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel, letting silence fill the space for a long minute. When Rory reached for the radio, he spoke again. “I think you’re right, you know. About needing to think about what I actually want. I was just holding onto the way things were because it was comfortable. I knew what to expect with Bill. And it’s nice to come home to predictable and familiar when you’re dealing with all the shit I do in the field.”

“Well, I’m here if you need to talk through it. Just not tonight, on account of the me getting laid thing.”

He laughed, turning the car into the lot down the street from the pub. The street parking closer looked all full up already. “Right, yeah. Don’t fuck any of my soldiers, by the way. I don’t want to deal with that.”

“Of course,” Rory agreed, hopping out of the car and pulling her dress down a little further. “I think I can handle that, unless they’re really cute.”

They walked the short distance to the pub side by side, and Gaz opened the door for her, following her in. It wasn’t too busy yet, but Ghost and Soap were already there, staking out a space in one of the larger booths, with two women sitting across from them.

The taller one, a short-haired tank of a woman, grinned at them. “Hey Captain! Who’s the smokeshow?” She had a faint Welsh accent, a little bounciness to her words that would be delightful to listen to all night, and a slight gap between her front teeth.

“I’m Rory,” she said, stopping at the top of the table and sticking a hand out. “Some of the old men around here call me Scout.”

“Spencer. Call me Nitro. This is Alex— Shivs.” Shivs was a slender, serious looking young woman, her dark hair pulled back in a braid, revealing the blondish roots around her hairline. “Lucky and Roach should be back in a minute,” Nitro continued. “They just went out for a smoke.”

Soap slid out of his seat next to Ghost and pointed to it. “Scout. Yer sittin’ where we can keep an eye on ye. Yer up tae no good, dressed like tha’. Surprised the old man let yeh out of the house.”

“She was wearing pants when we left,” Gaz said tiredly, dropping into the seat beside Nitro. “Nearly crashed the car when she started takin’ ‘em off.”

“I can see why. Those are some nice legs.” Nitro winked at Rory. “Wouldn’t mind seein’ ‘em—”

“Lieutenant,” Gaz said warningly. “That’s Price’s daughter. Off limits.”

“Scout, sit your arse down,” Soap said, glaring over his shoulder. “Best keep yer eyes tae yerself, lads, or Ah’m gonnae pry ‘em out.”

Rory glanced back at whoever Soap was talking to, frowning at the three men who were very pointedly looking anywhere else now. “Oh come on, Mactavish, let a girl live.”

“Sit,” he repeated firmly. “I’ll get ye a drink. Wouldnae be safe to let you near the bar.”

Rory sat, sighing heavily when Ghost pulled her tight against his side. "We're not 'avin' any funny business from you. If you can't behave I'll drag you back 'ome myself, got it?"

"Oh cut her some slack, Riley," Nitro said. "She's young and hot. Let some meatheads buy her drinks. If I looked like that I'd never pay for alcohol again."

"You look pretty good as is." Rory leaned forward, her eyes making an unsubtle sweep of Nitro's thick arms. "I'd buy you a drink if Mr. Bones wasn't holding me hostage over here."

“Scout.” Gaz pointed at her sternly. “No.”

“They’re so mean,” Rory complained. “Think that just because they’re friends with my dad that they have to act like this.”

“They’re worse than my dad,” Shivs said sympathetically. “And he dangled one of my first boyfriends over a second story balcony.”

“He was nice to me,” Nitro said.

“That’s because he doesn’t know we’ve fucked.” Shivs sent a sly glance down the table at Gaz. “Before she was my Lieutenant, of course. No fraternizing here.”

“Oh relax, Shivs. I’ve fucked three out of five of the people at this table right now.” Nitro pulled Shivs into her lap and slid further down the bench to make room. “But give it time.”

“You— When?” Shivs looked from Ghost to Soap to Gaz, eyes wide, trying to decide which two of the three men seemed the most likely. “The captains?”

Nitro shrugged, grinning. “Maybe.”

“What are we talking about?” A young man that looked a lot like Nitro settled into the seat beside Gaz.

“None of your business, kiddo,” Nitro said, hooking her chin over Shivs’ shoulder. “This is Lucky, by the by,” she added for Rory’s benefit. “And the lanky son of a bitch that looks like he’s seen a ghost is Roach. Lads, this is Rory. If you hit on her Soap will pull out your eyeballs and eat them.”

Rory glanced up at a familiar freckled face and propped her elbows on the table, dropping her chin into her hands. “Oh, hi Gary,” she said. “You never texted me back.”

He gave Gaz a slightly panicked look before returning his attention to Rory. “Um. Yeah. I should’ve. I’m sorry, I just, uh—”

“Ah told him he’d better leave ye be,” Soap said, sliding past Roach and onto the bench, setting a glass in front of Rory and sliding one further down to Ghost. “He’s a good soldier, I cannae ha’e yer da stranglin’ him tae death.”

“I’m sorry,” Roach said, grimacing. “I was going to— I just hadn’t figured out what to say yet.”

“It’s fine, really,” Rory said, peering around Soap’s bulky frame. “I know how these arseholes can be.”

“Jest bought ye a drink and yer callin’ us names.”

“I would gladly buy my own drinks but you’ve banned me from the bar. What is this anyway?”

“Dark an’ stormy. Gingerbeer an’ rum. Ah’ll switch ye if ye’d rather ha’e the scotch, but Ah think ye’ll like it.”

“I love gingerbeer. Good pick, Captain Clean.”

It was easy to fall into the easy camaraderie at the table, even if Gaz or Soap scolded Nitro every time she said something remotely flirty (which only made Nitro do it more).

She needed a plan to get Soap and Ghost off her back, however. They weren’t going to budge if she went at them head on, so she needed to get them to want to get a little distance. Just annoying them wouldn’t be enough, so she would have to go with the nuclear option.

After a couple more drinks, when everyone was relaxed and settled into the conversation, she put her hand on Soap’s thigh. He tensed up, giving her a wild-eyed look, which caught Gaz’s attention. None of the others seemed to notice, although Nitro gave Rory a sly look from across the table. She launched into a story, pulling the eyes at the table towards her, and Rory dug her nails in, not hard enough to do any damage through his jeans, but enough to make Soap inhale sharply, eyebrows snapping together when he looked at her. Scout kept her eyes on Nitro, pretending to be fully engrossed in what Nitro was saying, leaning forward to sip her drink, looking at Soap only when she already had the straw between her lips, eyes wide and innocent.

Soap sent a panicked look over her head, and Ghost shifted his arm down to hold her arm tight to her body so that when he pulled her toward himself her hand was pulled from Soap’s thigh. Ghost leaned in close, his breath stirring her hair when he spoke. “What are you doin’?” he asked, voice so low that even she barely caught it.

Rather than try to break away, she just snuggled in closer. “Nothing.”

Ghost sat up straight in his seat, every muscle locking up tight. “Let’s play a couple rounds of darts,” he suggested. “You’re gettin’ restless.”

Rory tipped her head back against his shoulder to look at him. “Mm, good idea. I do need to stretch my legs.” She stretched her legs out under the table, sliding the toe of her shoe up the inside of Gaz’s calf, putting him on high alert as well. If she played this right, they’d all be watching each other too closely to notice when she made a break for it.

There was another pub a couple blocks over. She could make it there and find a bit of fun before they realized where she’d gone. Or, judging by the look that Lucky was periodically sending her way, she might not have to go that far. She held eye contact for a beat, just long enough to let him know it was intentional, and then followed Soap out of the booth. It was too bad that Gary had turned out to be a dead end, but Lucky was cute too, a bit wilder looking. He had the same grin that Nitro did, one that spelled trouble and a lack of concern for consequence.

“What do you think you’re up to?” Ghost asked, eyes narrowed while he watched Soap throw the first few darts.

“Why do you think I’m up to something?” Rory asked.

“You’re actin’ like a little tart,” he said flatly.

Rory tapped the ends of her cluster of darts against his chest, tipping her head to the side and smiling up at him. “Maybe I am a little tart. You gonna do something about it?”

“You don’t want me doin’ somethin’ about it, princess.”

The thrill that his growl sent down her spine was unexpected. In truth, she’d never considered the possibility that Ghost would entertain even the thought, but suddenly she was the one thinking about it. “That’s okay. I’ll ask Gaz to do something about it.”

“No ye willnae,” Soap said, pushing her into place so she could throw. “Yer barkin’ up the wrong trees, Scout. Barkin’ in the wrong forest. Ye dinnae want anythin’ ye’ll find around here.”

“I don’t know about that.” She squared herself up, sending the darts flying in quick succession. “I figure there’s enthusiasm around here in spades, if it comes to it, but I prefer experience.”

“Somethin’ wrong with ye,” Soap grumbled. “D’ye no’ want a nice boy yer own age?”

“Roach is a nice boy my age. You told him to get. Gaz’s cousin was a nice boy my age, and you tossed him into the garden. So who exactly do you think I should be flirting with?” Rory went to fetch the darts, handing half off to Soap. “Who among us is worthy, John?”

Soap sent Ghost a helpless look that said you deal with her. Rory hummed, turning her attention back to Ghost, head tipped to the side expectantly.

“We’re lookin’ out for you.”

“Oh I know. But if you don’t give me enough space to find a dick to ride I’m gonna be looking to you three for a volunteer.”

Soap’s last dart hit the very edge of the board and fell to the floor. He gave Rory and Ghost a wide, blue-eyed stare, the game already half forgotten. “Did ye just say what I think ye did?”

“I don’t know.” Rory switched places with him so she could line up for her turn. “Your hearing isn’t what it used to be. What do you think I said?”

“Ah think yer a wicked wee temptress, is what I think,” he said. “Tryna get us kilt by yer da, you are.”

“Johnny,” Ghost said, grabbing him by a belt-loop and pulling him in close. Johnny’s face flushed red when Ghost’s other hand tipped his chin up, the picture of a man with strained patience scolding his dog for digging around in the flower beds for the third time this week. “Price ain’t gonna ‘ave any reason to kill you, is ‘e?”

“Weel—”

“Johnny.”

“She’s grown, we cannae tell her what tae do,” Soap protested. Funny how quick he was to change his tune when she suggested that she might try to sleep with him. “An’ maybe it’d be better for one of us—”

“Bloody ‘ell, Johnny, use your upstairs ‘ead. You’ve got enough will-power t’say no, don’t you?”

“I dinnae ken if Ah do, Si. Tha’s a lot of leg.”

Rory tossed a look over her shoulder at the table, meeting Lucky’s eyes for a moment. He winked. She tossed her hair over her shoulder as she turned back toward the board, throwing another tight cluster of darts close to the bullseye. Soap was having a bad game, his head clearly somewhere else. She went to collect the darts, bending at the waist to pick up the fallen one.

“Steamin’ Jaysus,” Soap groaned, leaning his forehead against Ghost’s shoulder. “Ah’m a dead man.”

“Don’t worry,” Rory said cheerfully. “At least one of you will survive to look after your kids.”

“Don’t be so sure. If I let go of our lad’s leash and let ‘im ‘ump you, I’ll be in ‘ot water too. Just behave yourself.”

“Oh alright. You’re no fun.”

She handily beat Johnny, and purposefully lost to Ghost (although she had to admit that she might not have won against Ghost even if she had been giving it her all) so that Ghost and Johnny were set to play against each other. Once they set up, she slipped off through the back hallway and out into the alley. She was good at melting into the background when she wanted to, it would take a minute for them to realize that she was gone and not at the table with the others either.

They’d be glad for the reprieve. So was she. It was hard work walking the line of keeping Soap just riled up enough that Ghost’s attention was on him instead of her.

She started walking toward the street, buzzing with victory and drinks she hadn’t needed to buy herself, when someone stepped into the mouth of the alley, blocking her path.

“Hey, Scout,” Gaz said, placing a cigarette between his lips, smirking at her as he brought the shivering orange flame from his lighter up. “Are you goin’ somewhere?”

Busted.

Image Credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - Banners by @/cafekitsune

#Cave Writing #hit me with your best shot #COD MW fanfic #Gaz x OC #OC: Rory “Scout” Blackmoore-Price #Age gap romance #Rory vs three old spec ops men who wins #(My money's on Rory)#Sorry posting 2 things in one day because I'm in the mood to get things done a bit

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crystlizabeth · 1 year ago

Note

Will we get a pt 2 of Cowboy Cassanova? 🥹

Cold without you…

Phillip Graves x Blackfem!Shepard!reader

Warnings: angsty, cursing, self neglect, arguing, age gap(24&32), fluffy. Again not proofread.

Summary: months later winter seemed colder and now sad what used to be your favorite time of year was now your most dreaded. But everybody gets surprises during the holidays.

P.1 cowboy Casanova

You were so angry with him, you wanted nothing more than to scream and cry. Your father tore him away so fast just as you had him so close. How could he seek to hurt you so much your own father, he watched you fall apart and he knew it was because of his doing. He did it wanting to keep his little girl from heartbreak but he was the one that broke it he knew that as soon as you arrived back to your family home. Still in your outfit from the night your tear stained face and bloody red eyes, your broken tone.

You cried and cried to him pushing him away when he came up to comfort you acting stupid as if you didn’t know, yelling all he could say it was for your own good. That Graves isn’t a man to be involved with let alone he was ‘to old for you’. That you needed to accept this and theres so many people in the world for you that school should be your main priority not some man who was taking advantage of you. He made you seem so naive and he knew better he knew that you know what you wanted what situations you got yourself in and that if he really was taking advantage of you, you would have sure as hell known.

Right there was when he knew he lost is babygirl. That he broke her heart into a million pieces not Phillip. Him. He watched as you wailed into your mothers arm mumbling out to him ‘how could you..’, ‘why would you do that..’ and ‘im not your little girl anymore.’ . Your mother comforting you not knowing the full situation but knew her husband had fucked up bad.

Now it was December you where back in Texas from school. The southern winter was different, it used to be your favorite the memories of playing in the snow with your siblings staying home from school and Christmas. But you had a feeling Christmas was going to be different, quite even.. the streets covered in inches of snow the night colorful lights on the trees and buildings around it as the snow fell from the sky. Eventually your older brother picked you up from the airport to take to home.

“You ready to go, see dad?” Caleb asked, the sound of his daughters in the background talking to one another singing the carols that came from the radio.

You sighed softly looking away from the window to face him, the street lights shiny on his face sometimes you forget how easily he lost his color in the winter his freckles becoming lighter his hair short the curls still noticeable. “Not exactly who I want to see.. but everyone is home right now so I don’t just have to see his face.” You laughed lightly knowing all of your siblings were gonna be there.

He hummed in response. There was the silence everyone knew what you dad pulled and why you were so mad at him even after the months passed.

“You know sis, you do look I dont know— good I guess?” He said quietly.

You pressed your lips together. “Im fine just school is hectic.. just be a break..” you mumbled looking down checking your phone.

“Has he tried getting in contact with you.. I gave him you new number.” Caleb said.

Oh? You faced him your eyebrows frowned, “no.. no he hasn’t has he said he’s going to..?” You asked.

Your brother shook his head unsure “I don’t know but he ask about ya, specially since I bring you up near him iv been tryin’..” he spoke.

Phillips been asking about you. But he hasn’t even reached out knowing that you wouldn’t hesitate to pick up the phone, well how could he? You’ve been away for collage and he had been deployed.

“ I have to be honest, your face looks sickly thinner, and you just don’t seem like you..” Caleb spoke.

Winter could be rough sometimes but you had been falling apart just a soon as the wether started to get colder. You had more than enough people around you that gave you comfort and all the love you needed yet it was still so cold without him. This was about the time Phillip and yoh started messing around talking more, going out, eventually sleeping together to him coming to your family’s Christmas party. Spending the new year together and soon enough becoming a couple. But now he wasn’t with you anymore, you never hated the cold as much as you did right now the Christmas light that’s hung from the houses and the music that played it made you want to cry and curl up in a ball.

Upon arriving to your family home the big white farm house decorated, walking in you were welcomed by everyone your sisters and other brother. Your mother happily taking you into a hug kissing your face, then your father he smiled lightly at you hoping to maybe get a hug maybe even a hello but you just nodded at him giving him a half smile.

“I know mama but I’m tierd and have a raging headache.” You spoke to your mother as she tried getting you to get some food, saying the same as your brother that you looked sickly and food was what you needed. She soon gave up letting you escape to your room for the rest of the night.

Opening your doors it looked the same besides the white Christmas lights hung around your room giving it a little bit of light, but in your bed laid a small present and letter with a note on top of it ‘made sure your daddy didn’t get to it - love mama’. Made sure he didn’t get to it? Putting the note to the side you took off your big jacket hanging it on your closed door along with your boots.

Walking up to it it was a small gift wrapped up in sparkly blue paper with a gold ribbon. There was a letter under it so you opened that first it read.

“With you I was so warm you were the source of my warmth and just as I knew it you were gone. It got so cold, did it for you? I have so much I was to ask and tell you I know, everything reminds me of you I find you in every small thing. But this was my favorite, something that reminded me you were my warmth my Sun. So every time you feel cold remember this gift. Merry Christmas My dear.

-Lip”

You read through the note the small tears falling off your face onto the paper, you analyzed his cursive written so delicately. Slowly placing the letter down you grabbed the box unwrapping it slowly, you wanted to savor this moment. The blue paper tarring off revealing a little velvet box, opening it your eyes met a gold necklace. The necklace having a sun on it.

Pulling the necklace up you pulled its cushion revealing another small note.

“may you shine brighter than the sun ever could.”

Oh Phillip.. the way he could break your heart all over again. You brought the necklace up to your mouth your lips pressing a kiss against the cold material. You sat there for a moment trying to pull yourself together soon enough being able to get up and put the letter and not on your night stand with the box, you had put the necklace on it sitting a little past your collar bone.

For the next week that’s all you could think about, you sat wondering if he was in the country maybe you could get into some sort of contact with him. Your brother was your only option to go to, but you didn’t exactly know how to approach him you weren’t sure if Caleb had Phillips number. But it never hurt to ask right?

Pulling your brother to the side you asked. “Do you have Phillips number? Email? Anything Caleb please.” You pleaded.

He looked at you, you could sense the light feeling of worry, “I don’t..” he spoke. You groaned out in frustration knowing he had changed his number as well but you never thought of getting Phillips email.

“But I do know he’s home.” Caleb said holding his daughter.

He haven’t moved, you mentally screamed at yourself of course he hadn’t moved and you knew where to find him. Was is risky yeah but he definitely couldn’t come here. After hours of mentally preparing yourself you grabbed the two notes along with an old box that held more letters that you had written and he had written. you borrowed your sisters keys walking out the door. The drive seemed so dreadfully long you began to think maybe you should go back doing this all you would be doing is causing more problems. But you couldn’t let the thought of your fathers disapproval hold you back anymore. You were grow and able to make your own decisions either is be physically or mentally, your love life had both to do with your father. But as of now you risked throwing away your relationship with your father for a man. A man that treated you so gently, a man who even spent months away still communicated so damn well, a man who made sure you stayed focused on the things you wanted to do, a man that loved every inch of you and could handle your mood swings. Maybe it would all be worth it in the end, maybe your father would turn out to be right to remove him from your life that was a risk you were willing to take.

Glancing over at the clock it was almost 10 when you pulled you to his gate. His property was covered in snow a path way could been seen of his truck coming in and out, you could see the light in his house but there were no Christmas decorations on display. Opening the door the cold air hit you as you opened the gate quickly getting back in the car driving up next to the his GMC.

Taking one more deep breath you turned off the car. Getting out walking up his porch, the sound of the dogs barking made you smile light you finally heard his voice telling them to quiet down and ushering them into the side room. His footsteps quickly came back the sound of the locks of the door being unlocked.

His face soften as soon as his eyes meet yours, silence not a word. The cold December air blowing but it didn’t seem as bad as before, it wasn’t freezing. His blue eyes looked over you gently taking you in his hand reaching out he pulled you inside quickly closing the door behind you. He’s hand didn’t leave your arm, he just continued to look at you he looks as if this was his breaking point that he had been just a cold with out you.

“You can’t be here..” he whispered, his brows frowned.

You stood there looking at him with big eyes that if you were to look away he would disappear. “I got you gift Lip…” you said quietly watching his face closely looking for any signs he didn’t want you here. But there wasn’t anything.

“Surprised your dad didn’t get to it first…”

“My mom did, she put it on my bed.” You reassured.

You saw the corner of his lips rise a bit. His hand didn’t leave your arm you felt his thumb start rubbing against your sleeve lightly. Neither of you needed to speak as of now just needed this to be in each others space, the comfort of each other was all you needed.

You felt his warm hand touch you, the coldness that covered your face absorbing his warmth. “You’re not taking care of yourself are you..?” He asked his eyes running over your features.

He could saw how full you’d become you didn’t have that glow he saw you with last, the bags under your eyes still noticed under your makeup. He could tell your habits of self care had changed, he let his other hand leave your arm touching your face. He was so gentle with you his calloused hand held your face close, you wanted nothing but to pull him in and feel his lips on yours but you controlled yourself just letting the moment pass.

“Lip..” you spoke softly.

He hummed, “Do you think we can try again-” you said he quickly gave you a look.

“You know what your dad-”

“No, no I don’t care what he thinks I will make sure you keep your rank. I’m old enough to make my own decisions especially when it come to my love life. Phillip your all I want, I mean that I can’t see myself with anyone else we both know this would happen me right back on your front step.” You said your hand laying on top his forearm.

He knew you where right he’ll you both said I love you when he left. He knew sending you a gift would bring you right back to him, shit if he could have done it the other way around he would’ve been on your front step as soon as you got back from college. Little did you know he had fallen apart just as much as you, but he managed it differently. You both knew that being with each other right now was enough to build that warmth once again.

Five months that’s how long you both went without eachother, but it wasn’t the same no letters, no calls nothing. And you where right your father had no reason to control your love life, and Phillip knew how much you meant to Shepherd he wouldn’t let his little girl leave compromise was something he could work with.

His lips came close to yours, your lips quivering just to feel the touch of his chapped lips. He waited ther watching you hold back from kissing you “Are you sure?”

You nodded, “No darlin’ I need you to use your words..” he whispered his hot breath hitting your lips making you lick them slightly.

“Yes, Im sure.”

That was all he needed to hear his lips touching yours softly letting himself sink into your kiss, you put the box to the side letting your hand wrap around his neck him adjusting moving his hands dow to your waist holding you in a tight embrace as you both kissed. God did you miss his taste, the strong coffee and whisky always seemed to linger on his lips such a different combination but so addicting.

To put it simply you didn’t go home that night.

His arm wrapped around you as you laid on his chest. For once you were warm again, warm with him. But the peace has to me distrusted at some point, you phone buzzed again groaning you realized you still have your sisters car your location is off and you’ve been gone all night.

Quickly getting up you rushed over to your sweat pants grabbing your phone out of the. ‘23 missed called Mama’, ‘16 messages Nessa’ and ‘54 missed calls Daddy’. Shit..

For all they knew you where dead. “Whats wrong Darlin’?” You heard lips voice say.

“Nobody knows where I’m at.” You spoke sending a text to your mother and Sister quickly.

“You didn’t tell them where you were goin’? What bout nes?” He asked sitting up.

You shook your head wiping your eyes putting your phone upside down on his dresser giving your full attention back to you.

Through out the morning you both caught up, the two of you catching up. So much had happen in the last five months you opens up about your mental health throughout it and the downfall of your and your fathers relationship that you had turned 24 and lived in campus now your apartment from before empty and most of that stuff in a storage unit and at home. Also That you even made a attempt to move on failing horribly, he admitted the same that he couldn’t find a smile that lit him up. That he was going down mentally as well this made you two realize that maybe you two were co dependent on each other but also just heart broken.

“What do you plan on telling your father?” Phillip spoke sipping on his coffee his hand on the small of your back.

“Well he’s not gonna like what I have to say honestly but I could careless and I plan on taking you if that alright?” You explained picking at your breakfast.

He hummed “ I wont get shot on sight right?” He half joked.

You slapped the back of your hand to his chest playfully. “Shut up. Plus mama keeps them locked away when we have guests because she has curious grandbaby’s for their safety and now yours.” You smiled at him kissing his cheek softly.

“Let do this yeah?” He said giving you a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, as long as your with me.” You said softly your voice slightly shaky.

“Always.”

You both had driven separately him following behind you, he did the same while walking into your family home stayed behind you as you gave your keys back to your sister. Nessa giving you a look as she saw the man, your mother shaking her head slightly “he’s in his study upstairs.” She said he face turning to Phillip giving him a sympathetic smile. She knew all hell was about the break loose.

Walking into your fathers study he saw you the relived happy look quickly changing.

“What is-”

“He’s here because I asked him to, because I went to go see him after 5 months of no contact.” You said cutting your father off.

He stood up going to say something but you quickly spoke before him.

“Sit down. —For a man who raised me to be independent you hind me back. It was never him, or me is was you. Because your scared to lose me and if you couldn’t tell when you told him to leave me I lost all sorts of respect for you you lost me right then and there.” You said, you heart racing.

“I want to make this clear i really do dad. I am 24 years old, one of the highest and hardest worker in my classes and through out the years. I have done everything to please you and when I finally have something of my own you take it from me. You— you threaten his rank a rank he’s spent years to get to something that means so fucking much to him I made sure he picked that because if I didn’t he would have dropped that job turned in his rank and gone home to me. But you couldn’t come to that fact that I a grown woman had found someone I loved I’m not naïve dad.” You spoke sternly you didn’t want to cry but god was your heart beating out of your chest.

“I need you to understand that if you want to continue to see me you will treat him with respect in and out of the base. You will not make any remarks about my relationship about him you will keep your negative opinions to yourself because you are the only one that has a problem. And if you don’t I will leave, I’ll keep in contact with mom but I will not. I will not fucking speak to you do you understand.” You spoke looking into your fathers eyes.

His brows frowned but he nodded “I understand.” He spoke softly.

“I really hope you do..” because if he didn’t you wouldn’t talk to him maybe ever and that hurt you. But he can’t control you and you had to make that clear.

You walked around his desk hugging him your fathers arms holding you tightly. Even if you were a daddy’s girl he was the only man that had broke your heart, and that’s what hurt the most. He knew how bad he had hurt you yet didn’t regret what he did but now he had to come to terms with it, you weren’t his babygirl anymore.

But that you were Phillip Graves, that man would hold your heart gently never seeking to break it.

Winter wasn’t sad anymore, yet the joy had come back to it. Spending the remainder of Christmas break with Phillip and your family, everyone officially meeting him as your boyfriend. You had your glow back, crazy how one person can bring you back so quickly. There was no thought of him leaving again he wanted to down every last moment with you, and he planned on it. The winter once again had become your favorite.

And you weren’t cold without him anymore.

Soo here’s part two I know it’s not alottt of Phillip and reader but I wanted it to be dramatic and I love a Christmas/winter themed fic!

#x black reader #phillip graves x reader #phillip graves x black!reader #phillip graves cod #cod philip graves #philip graves #phillip graves #graves call of duty #graves x you #philip graves x reader #graves mw2 #graves x reader #phillip graves x you #cod graves #shepherd cod #black fem reader #black female characters

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zinphandel · 18 days ago

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If you’re reading this it’s too late - Drake

heyyyy guys! welcome to the FINAL episode of dan howell’s albums of the year listen through and rating with kate @zinphandel : 2015 edition! (i really need to think of a catchier name) today album is…

Initial thoughts?

girlsssss i’m not gonna lie i am not looking forward to this. i am NOT a drake warrior. his kind of over commercialised hip hop of some of least favourite and drake would never be an artist i listen too out of choice. However, all of dan’s choices so far have been good so im hoping this one is a pleasant surprise!!! Having drake on his favourite albums of the year list is the straightest thing dan has ever done.

Is this a first time full album listen through?

Yes, although i know some drake songs, and as this was released in 2015, which was prime drake era (i don’t like him but you have to admit the hold he had on rap music circa 2013-2018 was unmatched). I don’t really know much about this album at allllll so im going in pretty blind to be honest! Let’s get into this listen through!!!

Listen through:

• right girls gays and theys let’s into this! at 17 songs and 1hr 8mins this is a loooooooong one

•track 1: legend, i’m enjoying the beat, fun lyrics, sounds like every basic song from the mid 2010s (not surprising, drake is very much the blueprint) as album openers go, i think it’s a great intro into the album

• okay track 2 is ‘energy’ which i am familiar with. enjoying this one much more! i can tell why 15 year old white boys went crazy over this in 2015.

• okayyyyy lol maybe i am much more familiar with this album than i thought whoops i kinda vaguely know quite a few of the tracks

• the drop in know yourself is chefs kisssss

• although this is reallllllly not my type of music i can appreciate that this does what it sets out to really well!

• i’m unsure how well this mixtape has aged. i feel it would have hit better listening on release but nearly 10 years later it feeeeeeels dated

• ngl im bored quite a few tracks sound repetitive and the minimal production is not my favourite especially when his lyrics are kinda mid and not that interesting, im hoping it improves as the album progresses as we are not even halfway through

• this could have been a 45 minute 10 track mixtape and would have been much more enjoyable in myyyyyy opinion

• this is not a party album, it’s quite depressing and lonely (A Theme I Have Spotted In The Albums Dan Has Picked So Far,,,,,.)

• drake complains and whines a lot on this album it’s definitely a sad boy album (hi dan!!!)

• thank GOD we’ve reached some features on the album (PARTYNEXTDOOR) it really breathes some life back into the songs, and the production seems to be ramping up as well which i’m enjoying

• lil wayne feature always improves a song!!!

• really enjoying 6 man, much more interesting sonically than the rest of the album so far

• ngl guys it’s dragging now i can’t wait for this album to be over it’s far to long the man needs an EDITOR!!

• and he’s pulled it back with the album closer. 6pm in new york is great!!! much more what i was expecting from the album

Favourite song(s)

star67, 6 man, 6pm in new york

Least favourite song?

no tellin’

Would i listen again?

probably not i’m not gonna lie, drake just really isn’t for me and listening to this record proved that to me, and if i WAS gonna listen to drake, it would defo be his more upbeat hype stuff

Do i recommend?

not personally but it is a fantastic time capsule of 2015 commercial rap if you are feeling particularly nostalgic

What would I rank it out of 10?

5/10

well that’s 2015 DONE!!! i hope you guys enjoyed :) i will be back very shortly to start on 2016s list!!!

I have created a playlist with my favourites from each album, which you can listen to here

read my other reviews from 2015 here

#dan and phil #phan #dnp #dan howell #phil lester #amazing phil #dip and pip #dan album review: 2015 #dan album review #kate zinphandels dan howell album of the year review and rating #album review #drake #if you’re reading this it’s too late

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ereardon · 2 years ago

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My Girl [Chapter 5][Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC]

Summary: Jake Seresin could be the answer to all of your dating woes. He’s the full package: steady job, mature, dependable, attractive to a fault. The polar opposite of every guy your age and he’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner. But there’s one roadblock: he’s a single father to four-year-old Ellie. Jake is looking for a level of commitment you’re not quite sure you’re ready to give, and he’s not willing to bring someone into his daughter’s life who isn’t there for the long haul. And even if you are stepmom material, is Jake ready to let someone back in his life while still mourning the recent loss of his late wife?

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC [Lawyer Natalie West]

WC: 3.8K

Warning: Age gap, cursing, smut, mention of death

Series masterlist here

Please fill out this form here to join my tag list

“This is our estate Cabernet Sauvignon.”

You lifted the glass to your lips and copied the sommelier — swirling the wine around in the glass and taking a deep sniff before taking a sip.

“You’ll taste the rich, dark berry profile, as well as a hint of tobacco. Now this wine in particular has a medium tannin build, so it’s slightly dry, but with a very smooth finish.”

Jake took a second sip of his wine and you could have sworn he worked for the CIA for how little information his facial features gave away about whether or not he enjoyed it.

“Now I’m going to go grab our next bottle from the cellar and we will open that in fifteen minutes,” the sommelier, a tall man with broad shoulders, said. “I’ll let you enjoy the cab.”

You smiled as he passed your table before turning to Jake.

“What do you think?” you asked him, nodding toward the selection of wine glasses on the table. You had tried four different bottles over the course of the last ninety minutes, and the alcohol was going to your head.

“Can I be honest?” Jake whispered softly, leaning over the table, the collar of his polo almost skimming the lip of one of his discarded glasses.

“Of course.”

“They all taste the damn same.”

You laughed, a loud cackle, and had to lean back with your hand pressed over your mouth while Jake’s face cracked into a smile. “You’re going to get us kicked out,” you whispered after the laughter subsided and Jake simply shook his head, leaning back and pushing his sunglasses back over his eyes. He was effortlessly handsome. You had watched multiple women follow him with their eyes as he got up earlier to use the bathroom. There was something almost primal in the pride you had knowing he was yours. .

After the tasting wrapped, Jake took your hand and led you out to the gardens. “Are you having a nice time?” he asked softly.

You stopped walking, pulling him in closer and knotting your hands behind his neck. “Jake, I’m having the absolute best time. Thank you for bringing me here.” As you leaned up to kiss him, his fingers found your waist, pulling you flush against him and you moaned into his mouth as you felt his erection brush against your upper hips.

Now that you knew what it was like to fuck Jake, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to go back to anything else. Anyone else.

“What’s next on the agenda?” you asked, your lips still bruised from the night before.

“We have dinner reservations at 8:30 in St. Helena,” he said. “They’re supposed to have a great halibut.”

You nodded. “That sounds nice. Or, we could go back to the hotel, order room service, and eat in bed naked.”

Jake’s eyes widened and you felt his hand slip down to the pocket of your jeans, squeezing your ass. “God, woman, you read my mind.”

Your chuckle was cut short by his mouth on yours, and when he pulled away you felt a gust of fresh air that left you cold and needy. “Where are you going?” you whined as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Calling to cancel our reservation,” he said, “and to have the driver pull around. I’m taking you home now.”

“But the cellar tour doesn’t start for fifteen more minutes!”

He shook his head. “We’re not gonna make it, sweetheart.” You saw the lust in his eyes. “Tell them we’ll take three bottles of the 2015 estate cabs.”

Jake ducked and pressed the slim phone to his ear and you smiled as he walked off, admiring him from afar.

Once the flood gates had opened, it was hard to keep your hands off each other. Jake’s fingers inched dangerously close to your core as he rested his hand on your leg during the drive back to the vineyard, the driver up front blissfully unaware of how badly you wanted to straddle Jake in the back seat.

“I can’t wait to be inside of you again,” he whispered into your ear as the car turned onto the resort’s main road and you felt yourself pulsating around nothing, growing more desperate as the minutes ticked by.

The sun started to dip down as Jake tugged your hand, practically dragging you into the room and you giggled as he shut the door behind him, a tent already forming in his pants.

“Aren’t you a little eager,” you tutted, running your hand over his crotch and he whimpered, shutting his eyes and leaning back against the door.

“Don’t tease me, baby,” he whispered gruffly but you knew that he loved it.

“That’s all I know how to do,” you replied, already shrugging off your jeans and sweater, shoes long discarded, and Jake licked his lips, ripping his shirt off and meeting you, breathless, in the middle of the room, your bare chests pressed together.

When you broke apart, your hands were already on his belt, pushing down his pants. Jake grunted into your shoulder as you took him into your hand, slowly pumping down his full length.

“Sit down,” you whispered softly and Jake took a seat on the edge of the bed, fully naked. You knelt down between his legs, fingers skimming over his thighs, before leaning forward and taking his cock into your mouth, tongue pressed up flat against the underside of his tip.

He threw his head back with an open-mouth moan, which only spurred you on more. You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, tipping forward and taking him deeper into your throat and one of Jake’s hands came out to brush your hair out of your face, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail. “Fuck, Nat, you’re so good at that. Such a pretty little mouth all over my cock,” he whispered, his voice breaking as another moan ripped through him.

You felt Jake’s hips lift up from the bed, trying desperately to get you to take all of him in your mouth. It caused you to choke, a strangled sound bubbling out of the corners of your mouth along with saliva as he rammed hard into your mouth, and Jake immediately pulled back once he saw the wetness in your eyes, lifting your face off of him and wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Shit, honey, are you OK? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” There was a hint of panic in his deep voice.

You chuckled and leaned back on your ankles. “Jake, it’s fine, honestly. I’ve been choked by dick before.”

The hardness in Jake’s eyes scared you. He wasn’t laughing with you. For a second, you were almost worried he was going to get up and walk away. You’d been judged by men in the past for your sexual history. There was an unfair bias against women who had experienced multiple partners, but for men it was a point of pride.

You just had never thought Jake would be one of those guys. Maybe you were finally unearthing one of his red flags.

You stood up, wiping at your mouth. “What is it?” Your voice was hard, unrelenting. It was difficult to feel powerful when you were standing in nothing but a light blue thong but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had caught you off guard.

Jake shook his head. “I just never want to be the kind of guy who does something to you that you don’t enjoy, solely for my benefit.”

Those were the last words you expected to fall from his mouth.

Jake stood, cupping his hands around your cheeks. “Natalie, sweetheart, you deserve the world. Inside and outside of the bedroom. Now come here, let me make it up to you.”

His hands slid down and grabbed you under your ass, pulling you into his arms, pressing his mouth against yours and your body instantly reacted to him, fingers tugging at his hair, wetness pooling in your panties as his cock dragged across your pelvis.

He laid you down gently on the bed, snuggling in next to you until you two were spooning. Jake pulled your panties down and flung them over the edge of the bed, settling his large fingers between your legs. While lying on your left side, you lifted your right leg over his, giving Jake more access to your core, and he pressed down on your swollen clit, making you gasp. “Like that, baby?” he whispered softly in your ear, trailing light kisses down your neck and you laid back against him, moaning under his tongue. Jake sped up his pace before dipping lower, circling your entrance and finally pushing two fingers in, filling you up as you chanted his name. His other hand slid beneath your body, holding your waist firmly, and you could feel how hard he was against your ass.

“Please, Jake,” you moaned, “need you in me.”

Behind you, Jake grunted and you shifted your hips back against him, feeling him line himself up with your entrance. The tip of his cock was warm and wet and he swore lightly as he pushed the head inside of you, feeling your walls suck him in greedily. “Shit,” he murmured against your shoulder.

“Yes, baby,” you muttered, gripping the sheets as he pressed in deeper.

Jake’s hand moved up to cup your breast, fingers tight across your nipple, as his hips snapped against yours from behind. “Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Jake whispered raggedly in your ear, picking up his pace. “Such a good girl,” he muttered, rutting into you harder and you gasped as his cock hit deeper inside of you.

You could feel yourself edging closer to orgasm, even without Jake touching your clit, the pressure building as he repeatedly hit your front wall. “Jake, yes,” you moaned as his fingers trailed over your stomach and pressed firmly into your lower abdomen. “Fuck, please, make me cum.”

“Cum for me sweetheart,” he murmured against you, arms tightening and pulling your body against him as his hips smacked against yours, the loud sound filling the room. “Want to feel your perfect pussy clenching around me.”

“Shit!” you cried out, convulsing against Jake as he grunted, hand digging into your hip, cock sliding in and out faster as he chased his own high.

“Fuck, Nat!” he sobbed, pushing into your deeper one last time and you felt his cock twitch inside of you as he poured into your core.

Jake didn’t pull out immediately. Instead, he moved his arms up until he was holding you around the middle, kissing your shoulder.

“Baby,” he whispered softly and you closed your eyes. “I am so damn lucky.”

Your fingers pressed against his. You didn’t need to say anything. He knew what you were thinking, because he was thinking it, too.

You loved Jake Seresin.

And you were pretty sure he loved you back.

***

“I think it’s time.” Jake’s voice was velvety over the phone.

“Time for what?” you said, yawning. You were lying in bed, about to go to sleep. It had been a long day at the office and your brain was scrambled eggs.

“For you to meet Ellie.” You shot up in bed to a seated position, your eyes wide. You and Jake had been together nearly three months at this point. “Are you sure?”

“I’m just deciding things as I go, Nat,” he said quietly into the phone. “I haven’t done this before. As a parent, you have to be really careful about who you introduce to your child. You need to make sure they’re someone who is going to stick around. I can’t bring people into Ellie’s life who are just going to be fleeting characters.”

He paused.

“So I guess I’m asking you, sweetheart. Are you ready?”

You nodded and then realized he couldn’t see you through the phone. “Yes, Jake, I want to meet her. I’m ready.”

***

Standing on the wrap around porch of Jake’s house, you could almost feel the warmth inside. Jake had invited you over for their annual Christmas tree night: set up the tree, bake cookies, watch a movie. You got the feeling that it was a tradition that he and Ellie held very dearly, and you were honored to be included.

Taking a few deep breaths, you lifted your fingers and knocked on the door.

It swung open to reveal Jake wearing a green cable knit sweater and jeans, smiling broadly.

“Hi,” you whispered softly.

“Hey there,” he said and you had expected him to lean in for a kiss, until you saw the small fingers wrapped around his leg. “Come on in.”

He shut the door behind you and you smiled, Ellie’s small golden head peeking out from behind Jake.

“Ellie, honey, this is daddy’s friend Natalie. Can you say hi?”

You crouched down and smiled and Ellie slowly let go of her dad’s leg, stepping to the side. “Hi!” Her voice was squeaky and delightful. She wore a small red dress with white tights, her lips a shiny pink, her blonde curls pulled back from her face with a small bow clip.

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you,” you said softly. “Your dad has told me so much about you.”

She smiled. “You’re pretty.”

Jake laughed and held out a hand, pulling you to standing. “Yes, she is,” he said gently. “Come on, sweetpea, let’s go check on the cookies.”

Ellie grinned, and you saw Jake so plainly etched across her features, before darting down the hallway toward what you could only assume was the kitchen. Jake turned to you and once Ellie was out of view, pressed his lips to yours softly.

“Thanks for coming,” he murmured.

“Thanks for inviting me.”

He placed his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the kitchen. Jake’s house was traditional, with white walls and mid-wall paneling, soft wooden accents, and hardwood floors. It felt straight out of a southern magazine. You had to stop yourself from searching for photos of Lizzie to make comparisons with yourself.

In the kitchen, Ellie kneeled on a stool, her small hands pressing into a blob of pale cookie dough and she had somehow managed to get white flour all down the front of her dress in the thirty seconds it had taken you and Jake to follow her down the hall.

“Sweetheart, did you spill?” Jake asked softly, crossing the room and pulling Ellie into his arms, dusting the flour from her dress as she laughed.

“Daddy!” she squealed. “Let me go!”

He set her back down on the chair she had been kneeling on, and waved you over. “Come help us, Nat. We’re terrible at cutting the cookies.”

“I’m making Santa hats,” Ellie said, looking up at you. You recognized Jake’s green eyes looking out at you from her delicate face and stepped closer, rolling up the sleeves of your sweater and turning to the sink.

“Wow Santa hats,” you said, washing your hands and patting them dry with a towel before returning to the other side of the kitchen island. “How are you going to decorate them?”

“With frosting!”

Her smile was infectious. Jake patted her head softly. “The frosting is her favorite part. Well that, and eating the raw cookie dough.”

You watched Ellie sneak an edge of raw dough in her mouth and give you a sly grin. You reached down and popped a scrap of sugar cookie dough into your mouth and Ellie giggled. “That’s my favorite part too,” you whispered.

It felt almost surreal watching Jake interact with Ellie. You knew that he was sweet and kind, but this was a new side of him that you got a front row seat to. The way he grinned at her and laughed as she wiped her flour-covered hands on his sweater. How his voice dipped into a softer register when he was showing her how to transfer the cookies onto the baking tray, the way he seamlessly chatted with her while mixing food coloring into the frosting bowls.

Jake had tied an apron around you, but by the time the cookies were done baking you were still covered in flour and frosting and sprinkles. At one point you had accidently dropped almost an entire bottle of green sprinkles on the counter, and Ellie proceeded to dip her Santa hat cookie in it, resulting in a hybrid of elf hats alongside the red Santas.

“We’ll be right back, sweetheart,” Jake said to Ellie, patting her head where she sat on the couch. “Going to find Natalie a clean shirt to wear and when I come back we can start getting the Christmas tree decorated, OK?”

She nodded excitedly and he pressed the TV on, starting The Grinch, the Jim Carrey version, and placed his hand on your lower back, leading you upstairs to the master bedroom. Jake opened a drawer and pulled out a soft flannel button down.

“Does this work?” he asked, eyeing your dirty sweater.

“Perfect.”

You reached out and took it in your hands, skin brushing against Jake. For a moment, you could tell there was something he wanted to say. But then he simply smiled. “I should get back down there,” he replied. “Come down whenever you’re ready.”

You nodded and watched him disappear down the stairs. Stripping off your dirty sweater, you pulled on Jake’s flannel, which fell to your knees but you didn’t care. You folded the used sweater and placed it on the ground before standing up and coming face-to-face with a wedding photo of Jake and Lizzie.

To your horror, she looked just like the woman from your dream. She was unapologetically beautiful. Creamy skin, shiny blonde hair that fell in silky waves, bright white smile, piercing blue eyes. Her nose was slightly crooked, like Ellie’s, and the way Jake looked at her in the photo made your heart plummet in your chest. You had never once seen him look so happy. So at ease. It broke your heart a little to know that Jake had lost someone who made him look that way.

The knowledge that you were standing in the bedroom that Jake once, in not the too distant past, shared with his wife was too much. It felt stifling. You took a deep breath and hurried down the stairs.

From around the corner, you saw Jake bent over a green storage container, handing a small woven ornament to Ellie. She grabbed it lightly and then you watched as he picked her up, holding her out so she could place it on a branch at his eye level. When he put her back down she excitedly reached back into the storage container for another ornament.

Watching them felt like looking at a stopped movie frame. Fire roaring away, a Christmas movie playing in the background, the scent of fresh cookies still clinging to the air.

It scared you how much you wanted to stay there in that moment. Just a slice of time, perfectly frozen.

How much you wanted to be part of their lives.

The rest of the night was spent helping Jake and Ellie decorate the tree. You loved that they used colored lights, and packed the ornaments onto every available space. There were ones from places they had traveled together, like a Disneyland ornament from the year before, and homemade ones Ellie had done at daycare.

When you sat down to finish the movie, Jake seamlessly handed you a glass of wine from your Napa trip, pulling Ellie onto his lap, her tiny feet in her white stockings kicking at his legs until he whispered into her ear and she giggled before settling down.

By the time the Grinch had returned the Whos’ Christmas gifts and decorations, you looked over to see Ellie asleep on Jake’s chest. He leaned over and pressed the remote, pausing the movie, and you saw Ellie stir in his arms.

“Daddy?” she whispered softly. “Is it over?”

“It is,” he said back quietly. “Time for bed princess. Did you have a nice night?”

She nodded and wiped at her eyes with small balled up fists before turning to you. “Natalie?” Her voice was soft and groggy.

“Yeah hon?”

“Will you come back for our next movie night?”

Your heart swelled. Above Ellie’s head, you saw Jake’s eyes light up. You reached out and patted her knee. “I’d love to.”

“Good.”

Jake lifted her up into his arms, her chin resting on his shoulder. He mouthed to you. I’ll be right back. And then they were disappearing around the corner, up the stairs.

You drained the rest of your wine by the time Jake came back downstairs. He caught you leaning over the sink, eating an elf hat cookie and wiping the crumbs on his flannel and he laughed.

“Busted.”

You turned around, cookie crumbs on the corners of your mouth, and Jake stepped forward, wiping them away with his thumb.

“There, all clean.”

“What can I say, the kid makes a damn good cookie.”

He reached down and threaded his fingers in yours. “You were amazing with her.”

“She’s lovely, Jake. Honestly. I wasn’t sure what to expect but it’s obvious you’ve done a phenomenal job raising her.”

There was a pause and you saw the lump growing in Jake’s throat. “It was mostly Lizzie,” he said softly. “Up until last year, I was barely around. I didn’t even know her, really. She grew so much every time I would see her between deployments, it was like she was a whole new person every time I came home. But now that I’m here with her, every day, it’s different.”

“You can take some credit,” you whispered, leaning up and wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re an amazing dad.”

He smiled but you saw the sadness that had made itself a home in his eyes.

“Thank you for letting me meet her,” you said quietly. “For taking a risk on me.”

Jake leaned down and brushed the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. His lips pressed against yours softly before he pulled away, leaning his forehead down against yours. “You’re worth the risk, Nat,” he murmured softly. “You’re exactly what I didn’t even know I was looking for.”

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