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hardlyinteresting · 2 months ago

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love's never lost when perspective is earned

Jake Seresin x Reader

“The moment you doubt whether you can fly, you cease forever to be able to do it.” Peter Pan, J.M Barrie

Peter by Taylor Swift S P E Y S I D E by Bon Iver Big Black Car by Gregory Alan Isakov Smother by Daughter

Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, Parentification of eldest siblings, bad first date experience, gets a little spicy towards the end (no smut), (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please)

This one shot was written for @arcane-vagabond Fairy Tale writing challenge with the inspiration of Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie, and the use of the word Scintilla.

Word Count: 6.7K Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

She remembers that summer wrapped in a golden glow. Back when hot, humid days were spent bathed in the sun’s vivid orange. Their fingers were sticky with jammy pie fillings, stolen from his mama’s kitchen. Cold water from the garden hose always tasted better after a day of chasing themselves around the properties.

What do you want to be when you grow up?” Jake had asked her as they lay in the grass behind his house.

“I haven't decided yet,” she told him matter of factly, “But, I’m gonna have a nice house, and I’m going to go far away from here”.

“I'm gonna be a pilot,” Jake said, “And I’ll fly wherever I want”.

She knew he was entirely serious, even as a little boy he’d never failed to accomplish what he put his mind to. The gentle waiver is his voice as his statement teetered around the edges of his true feelings and fears. “I wish I could fly away,” She told him, watching the clouds shift across the bright blue sky above them.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you with me,” Jake promised. And back then, a promise had felt like enough.

They were seven; her shins were always bruised from climbing trees and tackling the Seresin boy during their daily football scrambles; his cheeks were always sunburnt, and he lied every time his mother asked if he had put sunscreen on. In many ways, she thinks those two months running after Jake Seresin had been both the peak and the plateau of her childhood wonder.

September meant returning to school; finishing supper and homework before being allowed out to play, and with the autumnal turn crept in early sunsets and earlier curfews. In November, her stepdad moved in, and her mother told her to expect a little brother in the spring. The days of scraped knees and make-believe slipped away before the winter frost set in.

When he thinks about her now, he pictures her laughing like she did when they were ten years old. He misses the days when she had the freedom to forget herself.

At ten years old Jake Seresin couldn’t understand why his friend wasn’t as fun as she used to be. He watched from his kitchen window as she sat on the front porch with her little brother, settling next to her and feeding him from tiny jars of baby food. At a distance, it'd be easy to mistake her for any other girl playing make-believe with one of her dolls. But Jackson wasn't a doll, he was fussy and gassy, and he needed to be fed and put down for his naps before she had a moment of spare time to spend with her pal Jake.

Her little brother had been followed by a new baby girl two years later. Tire marks on the dirt driveway highlighted where her stepfather’s truck should have been most days. Jackson had finally gone down for a nap but Olivia had been teething and her wailing could be heard from a mile away.

“What do you want to do today?” Jake asked her as he made his way up her porch steps to sit next to her on the stoop. “I want to fly away,” she told him.

Without a second thought, he grabbed her hand as he took off running, down the stairs, across the lawn and into the field behind the house. The long grass tickled at their ribs as they ran as fast as possible, their arms outstretched on either side of them.

Circling, and jumping, hooting and hollering they made their way across the flat land with boisterous laughter bubbling from their lips. By the time they stumbled to a stop at the fence line their breath came to them in quiet gasps, their cheeks warmed by the exertion of their activity.

The sound of his pulse fell in time with her carefree giggles as she twirled around mimicking some kind of bird. Had it not been for the physical boundary of the wire fence he thinks they could have kept running forever, the promise of freedom they didn’t yet understand beneath their wings. In that moment he knew he’d chase that feeling for the rest of his life.

At sixteen she felt more like a substitute parent than she did a teenage girl. Her mind and her soul had aged beyond her years and stayed wrapped in a youthful vessel. School had become an escape from the responsibility she felt at home. While Olivia and Jackson clambered onto the school bus excited for first and second grade, she climbed into the passenger seat of Jake Seresin’s restored F-150. Each morning he'd pass her a wrapped sandwich made in his kitchen with his mother's fresh-baked bread. A replacement for the meal he knew she sacrificed to divide the last of the breakfast cereal between her siblings. He filled her with servings of farm butter and homemade jam, or ham and cheese. Their silent dialogue in brushing their knuckles during the exchange, as he always chose to ignore how she saved half for her lunch later in the day.

Pulling into the parking lot at school she had been keenly aware of the way the other girls looked at her as she walked hand in hand with Jake; the glares shot her way when he kissed her cheek as they parted ways to head to their classes.

Their jealousy rolled off them in waves, and she heard how they spoke about her in the locker room after gym class. Whispers about his gorgeous green eyes and boyish charm. What could the hottest guy in school possibly want from the strange girl in her secondhand clothes and studious persona? Surely he'd have more fun with a girl who wanted to party.

It was true. In the span of one summer, he'd grown 6 inches, towering over her now. His shoulders broadened. The lanky awkward limbed boy she'd known in her childhood grew stronger and more defined as he learned better how to pull his weight on his family’s farm. His masculine stature and maturity softened only by his flushed cheeks, and childlike grin.

And yes, he snuck beers from his father’s garage fridge and did handstands for ovations at parties hosted by the school football team. An absolute joy to be around. To know Jake Seresin was to love Jake Seresin, but didn't know him the way she did.

They didn't know he was terrified of thunderstorms until he was 12. They weren't there when he split his pants open trying to climb over a fence when they were 9. They had never had the privilege of listening to him read aloud from all his books about aircraft; his 11-year-old fingers tracing the letters as he sounded out the big words, the fear of being held back in 5th grade hanging over his head.

They had never held him as he tore into himself. The golden boy, raised in the shadow of an older brother who hadn’t lived long enough for him to remember; so deeply loved, but not enough to fill the ache in his parent’s hearts.

No one in those school halls would ever be able to tell the difference between his happiest days, and the smirk he plastered on always aiming to be better than what he believed himself to be.

He was so stubborn and far more clever than he ever let himself sound; she scolded him almost daily as he tried to shrug off his homework. “You'll need math and science if you ever want to fly a jet,” she would remind him, accepting the glass of sweet tea he offered her. Their textbooks and notes would lay spread across his kitchen table while Jackson and Olivia occupied themselves with blank paper and wax crayons, offering Jake scribbled drawings of airplanes, “wow! That's amazing, thank you,” he'd say every time.

She hadn't asked Jake to worm his way into her soul, and yet even now she knows some part of her soul belongs deeply to him. Their games of tag had slowly become time spent talking about their parents and watching the clouds; their hands intertwined between them as they listened to each other's dreams and desires for the future.

And on the nights when his life just didn’t seem to fit quite right, he’d tap on her window, willing her to join him in the bed of his truck a couple of miles from their homes; and she’d remind him who he was. The bright boy with a heart of gold, and a laugh that reminded her of everything good in the world. She’d rest her head on his chest, his fingertips tracing aimless shapes across her back, as she convinced him he was more than a collection of hand-me-down dreams.

His eighteenth birthday crept up to him before passing in a blur of candlelight and buttercream icing. His mother cried in the kitchen when she excused herself to ‘take care of the dishes’. His father clapped him on the shoulder. Their two sets of hazel-green eyes met as the older man offered a nod. The action itself did not speak to a relationship of closeness or specific affection, but still, it managed to convey a message of approval, apology, and love too difficult to speak.

She had knocked on the door shortly after dinner had been cleared from the table, the remaining half of his birthday cake being ushered into the refrigerator under a cling wrap film. Shivering in the night air, her hands clutched a package of brown paper with a shiny blue ribbon, his name scribbled in her careful writing. Quickly, he’d pulled her into the house greeting her with a kiss as deeply passionate as she deserved. “Happy birthday,” she’d whispered, pressing the gift she’d brought into his hands. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he’d told her. “I wanted to,” she insisted. With steady hands, he unwrapped the box. His question was silent, but the shocked expression on his face must’ve conveyed enough for her to be able to answer him anyway. “It’s the one from the antique store,” she grinned, “Mister Abbot let me pay for it in instalments”. He tipped the brass nautical compass into the palm of his hand, staid in his evaluation of both the physical and emotional weight of the gift. “This is too much,” he spoke after a moment.

Her eyes went wide, her smile dropping. “I love it,” he was immediate in his attempt at reassurance, “but, you’re saving for school. I don’t want you spending your money on me, darlin’”. He tried to pass the compass back to her, a woebegone ponderosity settling in his stomach at the very idea of rejecting any part of her. Insistent, yet patient, she curled her finger over his. The digits were so much smaller than his own, cracked and raw from washing dishes and cleaning tables at the local diner. The painful reminder of how hard she’d been working to climb her way out of her own life. “I want you to keep it. Selfishly,” she said, “I want you to always be able to find your way back to me”. How could he have argued with that?

Politely, she’d popped into the kitchen to see his mama, accepting a Tupperware of cake slices to take home for the kids to enjoy. His father met them at the door as Jake shrugged on his denim jacket. “Where are you kids off to?” he asked out of curiosity more than any concern. “Just going for a drive,” Jake told him, slipping his keys into his pocket. “Don’t let him get you into any trouble, ya hear?” he warned her with a teasing grin, the humour evident in his voice. “Yes sir,” she had agreed easily, knowing Mr Seresin’s penchant for faux sternness in the moments between his genuine stoicism. Seemly satisfied to see her smile grow, he had turned to Jake with an immediate pivot back to his natural sternness, “You make sure you get her home at a reasonable time. It’s a school night”. Jake’s compliance echoed her own, with no room for jest, “Yes sir”.

Parked in their usual spot, at the edge of a cleared field he wrapped layers of blankets around her shoulders, before settling down next to her. Their biggest dreams breathed between them and the night stars. “I love you,” he said. The statement was resolute, and immovable in its honesty. “I love you too, Jake,” she told him. Her words were spoken like a promise she desperately wanted to keep.

“When we graduate, I'll drive us across the country,” he tells her, “I'll buy us a house. You can go to school and I'll fly”.

“It’s a nice dream, baby,” she says.

Their drive home is silent.

She spent her nineteenth birthday sleeping in his childhood bedroom. He hadn't been home in months but the sheet still smelt like him. She scraped her knees climbing up the trellis to his window, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She’d laughed to herself examining the superficial wounds, enjoying the familiar bite of nostalgia. Memories of her childhood long since passed left tears at the corners of her eyes. Near manic laughter faded into a melancholy exhaustion.

Her eyes focused on the small book collection Jake had managed over the years. They had all been perfectly aligned in their homes on his bookshelf; set in alphabetical order by author. His need for structure despite his free spirit had been amusing until it became mildly concerning. Routine, crafted to satisfy the need to stay completely distracted from an overwhelm of feelings he had always been sure he didn’t have the capacity to express. The hope in her heart had always been that he might learn to hone his particular brand of presentiment. He’d always been so rough-and-tumble, so hard to worry after; determined to never let the mask slip as he raced through life with a smile.

1400 miles away she ached to be beside him; so lonely in her knowledge of him. She worked to comfort herself by tracing the titles on the spines of the books he’d left behind. Over and over. Over and over. With blurring vision and an unfocused mind, she slipped into a well-deserved sleep. The sun streamed so gently through the window of Jake’s room. A touch of light tugging her from her slummer had been a welcome change from the jarring wake-up call she had at home. Two siblings who had yet to figure out how to make themselves breakfast without bickering or clattering plates. The smell of fresh coffee and pancake batter wafted up from downstairs.

The bedroom door squeaked as she opened it, and underfoot the floorboards in the old farmhouse creaked, each step down the staircase punctuated with the sonance of more than a hundred years of life. In the Seresin house, the noises reminded her of the generations who had come and gone, it was easy to imagine the lives that had been lived within the walls. Across the yard, the similar shifts and groans of her childhood home echoed like ghostly calls; the whispers warning of a life liable to be wasted if she stuck around.

“Good morning, Sweetheart,” Mrs Seresin smiled, setting an extra spot at the kitchen table. His mother had always been the kindest person she’d known. Despite the undisputable reality that her son’s girlfriend had all but broken into her home, she welcomed her with open arms, asking if she wanted blueberries in her pancakes.

The longer they went without mentioning the elephant in the room the easier it became for her to slouch a bit in her seat, appreciating each bite of the breakfast that had been offered to her. Nineteen years of being in rooms out of necessity rather than desire had made it difficult to trust other’s interest in her well-being.

Feeling her shoulders drop in relief left her feeling something like a stray cat brought in to shelter from the storm; glad to accept Mrs Seresin’s kindness, but uneasy all the same. She had grown used to being weary of tenderness and generosity; always waiting to hear the conditions of the beneficence.

Sipping her coffee, Mrs Seresin smiled over the lip of the mug. “If you want to stay a little longer, you could help me go through some of Jake’s old clothes. Some of them would probably fit Jackson now”. Her words reached like an olive branch across the table, and for a moment she understood that perhaps the older woman wasn’t just benevolent for the sake of it, not on this day at least. With her only living child out of the house she had been lonely in her need to mother someone, and glad just for the company as unorthodox as the circumstances may have been. She’d been glad to learn that some glint of selfishness lingered in everyone, and in a strange turn, it only made her trust the woman more.

She hadn't expected a pile of folded sweatshirts to make her cry, and yet in a blink of an eye, she found herself sobbing. A flicker of hurt rushed through her with the realization that some things will always matter more to her than they do to anyone else. Just another piece of clothing to Jake, another part of her task for the day to his mother. But she was holding the world in her hands.

She remembers that sweatshirt well, red and worn out by time, always just a bit too tight in the shoulders, the seams stretching at the sleeves. He was wearing it the night he picked her up from her first date.

Bobby Dunbar had been two years older than her, and had no idea of the meaning of the word ‘no'. She left him alone in the movie theatre after he'd tried to creep a hand up her skirt for the second time. With a quick call from the closest payphone, Jake was on his way to pick her up without questions.

Together, they drove out of town and past their homes the sun dipping down below the seemingly endless horizon. Overhead the stars had begun to make themselves appreciable against the backdrop of the darkening sky. Parked, they lay in the bed of the truck looking up at the sky ahead. He took care to trace the constellations for her, naming them as he went. In the meantime, her fingertips copied the shapes with invisible lines across his chest. The well-loved red sweatshirt was soft beneath her cheek.

He kissed her for the first time that night. Not her first kiss, but the first one that mattered. Jake always had this ability to make her world stop spinning, even if just for a moment. Sitting on the edge of his bed sobbing into the sweater she wanted nothing more than to be near him, to hear him tell her everything was going to work out for them in the end.

“I got my scholarship,” she told Mrs. Seresin, “I'll start in the fall, and I'll be able to live on campus”.

“That's amazing news sweetheart,” her affirmation, so much like her son’s.

“It's a lot farther for Jake to drive. I won't be here to check on Jackson and Olivia. My mo--”

“They'll be alright. It's high time you live your dream, honey”.

At nineteen years old, she struggled to understand that sometimes the beginning feels like the end. A pit growing in her stomach, she clutched the bags of hand-me-down clothes as she headed home. The sky above was dotted with the same stars Jake had taught her about years ago, she stood still for a moment trying to remember the feel of his lips, or the comfort of his hand in hers, but only felt the cool evening breeze.

Twenty-one felt like wearing a costume. Joining the Navy. Getting good grades. Helping on the farm whenever he had an ounce of free time. Being a good son, being a good boyfriend. He was playing dress-up in a life that wasn’t built for him, and yet he found himself so desperate to play the part.

The first few months away had been excruciating. Most nights he chugged Pepto-Bismol before going to bed, hoping that the tearing feeling in his chest was just heartburn, and not just his soul stretching across four states. It had been the longest they’d ever been separated; smashing the previous record of the one week he spent with his aunt and uncle when he was ten.

He won’t blame her for the divide that grew between them, but he knows that the ache in his chest cracked into a chasm sometime after she moved onto her college campus.

The commute to see her was longer, his back was stiff, and his eyes were tired after driving hours, and crisscrossing state lines. The time they spent together was almost exclusively spent sleeping or skipping around their desperate need to return to what they once were, all while refusing to give up their dreams.

Two years into her degree he was exhausted. On base, his bed was assembled for practicality, not for comfort. Hard, uneven mattress and nights spent cold beneath the covers without the warmth of her body tucked against him. His bunkmates all snored, and the hustle and bustle of those still working during his allotted sleeping hours kept his mind alert even as his body dosed. In her dorm room, her duvet was plush and cozy, her pillows smelt like her shampoo, and she snuggled as close to him as physically possible on the nights he managed to make it to her. But her roommate was nosy and made it almost impossible for him to love on his girlfriend. Unable to touch her as freely as he yearned to-- and even worse, unable to speak as freely as he needed to, his feelings threatened to choke him. Lost without the level of communication that had become their life preserver for years, he felt as though he was drowning.

At twenty one he asked his father for his grandmother’s engagement ring. A family heirloom he’d always known he’d propose with one day. He would make good on the promises he made. They would get married and he’d buy them a house-- he had already managed to save quite a bit. It was not a lack of love that broke them, but perhaps an excess of it. A shared desperation to do more, and be better; both of them hell-bent on clawing their way out of the ruts they’d found themselves stuck in. And with so much to prove it had been impossible to climb without letting go of each other.

He was down on one knee when his heart was ripped from his chest. For a moment he felt it was impossible to breathe. His mind was silent, too stunned to think and too confused to speak. She was still shaking her head when he finally found the strength to look up at her again. “No,” she said. “I thought--”

“I’m sorry-- I can’t. I won’t. It’s not fair,” she told him. Certainly not fair, he thought desperate to understand. But when had life ever been fair? “I can’t,” she repeated. He watched, hopeless, as she shrunk in on herself. The bright, brilliant girl he’d spent more than half his life loving shied away from him, hiding behind a shame he couldn’t find a source for.

As he slowly made his way back to his feet, with the ring box shoved back into his coat pocket, she spoke again. “I think it would be better if we spent some time apart”. That he had not been expecting, and the words nearly had him keeling over; a brutal blow that knocked the air from his lungs. He found himself helpless, unable to do anything but nod. All his fight sat on the tip of his tongue, pinched between his teeth, betrayed by his pain, and misunderstanding. I’m sorry, he wanted to say. For anything. For everything. But the words never came out. “I’m sorry,” she wept as she ushered him out of her dorm room.

With one hand, and no force he held the door frame for a moment, one last longing look at the girl he knew he’d love forever. “One day we’ll be enough for each other again”. He hoped that was true.

She carries a spark of regret in her chest, it grows when she thinks of him, and it shrinks when she remembers she freed him too. She thinks now that her denial of Jake Seresin may have been hasty. Fifteen years older, and with more perspective than she had at twenty-one, she thinks their lives could have been different if she had been brave enough to talk things out.

Her fear of stagnation had been her only motivation for so much of her life. His proposal had been on the surface a desperate attempt to cling to a bond they had begun to outgrow. And while his intentions at their core had been pure, getting married would not have saved their relationship. She had only begun to live for herself, and he still didn’t understand that his life was his own. Their marriage would have only served as a new way to masquerade and play pretend; years of running away from the fears that kept them both up at night. He would have grown to resent her inability to live without planning, and she would have hated his unintended absenteeism. Being married would not have kept his side of the bed warm, nor would it have given him any new ability to quell her anxieties.

She still thinks of him often. From her apartment on a clear day her view of the sky seems to span for miles and miles. She pictures him up there, carving through the clouds with the dedication and precision she’s always known he’d be capable of. She imagines him happy, living his dream. She hopes he’s proud of himself, and she prays that he knows that she’s proud of him too.

Sometimes, she lets herself wonder if he ever settled down; offered his grandmother’s ring and his heart on his sleeve to some other lucky girl. She’s tried to move on herself a few times, but never made it close to feeling like she was in love. The last guy had been a year ago now, he was nice enough, handsome, had a good job, and a good sense of humour. On paper he was flawless. He’d take her out for dinner, and walk her to her door. Sometimes he spent the night. He bought her flowers, and held her hand. But on one too many occasions she felt inexplicably lonely sitting next to him. He complained that she wasn’t any fun. She struggled to explain the sense of responsibility she’d never been able to shake. She asked him about his dreams. He never seemed to have any.

And so the hint of any spark that had been there fizzled away into nothing.

She tells herself she’s happier on her own and decides to keep moving forward, ignoring the cracking of her heart. She uncorks a bottle of wine, dancing alone in her kitchen, looking out at the vast evening sky and the setting sun. As much as she enjoys the view from her rental, she’s been in California long enough that it might be worth buying into the housing market. Nothing fancy, but something she can truly call her own. She’s been making good money for a while now, and her siblings have made it through college themselves. Jackson moved to New York with his sights set on being an architect. Olivia moved to Austin and became a nurse. Her mother hasn’t bothered to call in ages. Her shoulders relax without the added pressure of caring for others. For the first time in a very long time, her mind is quiet--it’s finally time to write the last chapters in her own story and stop running.

He keeps an old photograph of her in the inside of his flight suit, right over his heart. He’s living his dream, and he won’t allow himself to forget that she’s the reason why. Driving home from base at night he passes houses much larger than the bungalow he’s been renting. He wonders where she went after she graduated, and what kind of job she has now.

He chooses to picture her happy even at the expense of his feelings; a devoted husband coming to wrap his arms around her while she stirs a pot on the stove. A scintilla of guilt makes itself known as he grows somewhat jealous of this life he's envisioned for her. The truth is that he knows she was right for turning him down. They were too young, too naive, and too frightened. Breaking up with him may have been the first time he had seen her truly put herself first, and in hindsight, he’s glad she did. He knows he’d never have been able to live with himself if he had been what stood in the way of her making her dreams come true. It took him a while to understand the gift she had given him when she sent him away. The freedom to be the man he wanted to be, and not the man anyone else needed him to be.

He’d fucked it up more than once along the way. At work, he had become too brash, too cocky, too full of himself. He put his walls up and wore the self-assured mask he thought people wanted to see. Unwavering confidence, and determination. His return to Top Gun had been a wake-up call. He’d been forced to adapt, to let his guard down and learn how to let people in again. And for the first time since he was a teenager he appreciated the difference between being valued and being important. The realization had come with a sense of belonging and camaraderie that he hadn’t expected but couldn't afford to forget.

In his personal life, he had failed time and time again to form long-term bonds. One-night stands didn’t hurt, but the idea of waking up next to someone left him nauseous. But the truth is he yearns for that connection. He wants to be seen. He wants to be understood. He stopped going home to visit his parents two years ago, the weight of self-placed expectation chewed through him and left him hollow; guilt filled its place.

Last week he stood back straight, with his heart full of pride as he accepted his promotion. The new rank came with a new role, and a new more permanent position. He'd be stationed in San Diego for at least five more years. He called his mother. He booked a flight home for his next break. He started browsing real estate pages. It’s time to stop running.

She’s only made it to a couple of open houses so far but she hasn’t been able to find anything she likes yet. Most of the houses she’s seen are out of her price range. Others have been too modern, some too outdated.

She remembers the Seresin’s kitchen, the buttery yellow walls and linoleum tiles. Their house wasn’t flashy, nor had it been renovated anytime in 1980, but it was cozy. She can remember the smell of Mrs. Seresin’s baking. In her mind's eye, she recalls the feel of the cabinet doors that Mr. Seresin had built himself when they moved in, and his wife’s initials carved into the bottom corner of the cupboard over the sink. In every way possible they had made that ordinary farmhouse a home, and she wants the same for herself now. Like everything in her life, she decided her house has to be perfect. She’ll know it when she sees it.

The house is a two-story craftsman, built circa 1935. The siding is a garish kind of coral colour, faded by the sun, and the trims stand out in a soft vanilla colour, chipped at the edges. She’s driving home from work when she sees the sign for the open house standing proudly on the front lawn. Without a thought she pulls over, throwing the car into park. Inside, it smells like freshly baked cookies-- a real estate trick she’s learned over the last few weeks. It’s easy to imagine a house is your own when it smells so inviting. She's come to expect this, and won't let it blind her.

Her heels click across the hardwood floor, the sound echoing through the empty house. She moves past the stairs into the surprisingly spacious living room. A large window looks out onto the quiet cul-de-sac, and the room sits bathed in the soft glow of the street lights outside. She imagines the room furnished, with soft drapery, a plush sofa, tv hung above the fireplace, and she can imagine herself unwinding here. The dining room is a fair size, and the kitchen has a sliding door that opens up to the backyard. The cabinets are brand new, and the owners have spent time renovating while staying true to the charm of the house. On the countertop, she picks up the real estate agent’s pamphlets about the home, amenities and nearby schools are listed, and she wonders if she might have the chance to raise a family here.

Overhead the sound of steady footsteps, and a pair of heels make their way down the hall and then the stairs. “If you decide to put in an offer, do not hesitate to call, in this market the early bird gets the worm,” a woman speaks. “I appreciate it, thank you,” a man replies in a low southern drawl, “do you mind if I take a look at the backyard before I head out?” “Not at all! Take your time, I’ll be out front just getting my signs if you need anything else”.

He’s barely stepped into the kitchen when he hears his name. “Jake?” a familiar voice wonders, her arms coming immediately to wrap around him. She hits his chest with a thud, but it does move him an inch. Her name is sighed into her hairline as he holds her close. “You made it-- all the way to California,” He smiles, pulling back to get a good look at her. She’s as gorgeous as he remembers, if not more so. Her features have sharpened over time, and he thinks her hair might be darker now, but she’s glowing. Her grin is wide and her shoulders relaxed as she reaches to trace his name and rank on his uniform. “You’re flying, Jake,” she all but whispers. He nods, his eyes softening as his hand comes to rest over hers, his heart racing beneath her palm. “Turns out I’m pretty good at it,” he jokes, and is rewarded with his favourite laugh.

His free hand lowers to rest on her hip and she steps closer, familiarity allows them to skip out on formality. He’s missed this; a shared closeness loud enough for them to speak without saying anything. He knows her like he knows the back of his own hand, and even with years passed between them, he’s able to fill in the gaps. Her clothes are well made, and well fitted. Office wear. Her shoes leave her standing tall, reminding him of senior prom and the time they spent slow dancing. He knows what she’s overcome, and he’s never had any doubt about where she would end up. Clearly successful, and if the way her smile meets her eyes is any indicator, she’s happy too.

In all honesty, she’s not sure who leans in first, but she knows she’s kissing Jake Seresin for the first time in fifteen years. He kisses with hesitation at first but allows himself to give in to a passion grown with time. He’s more skilled than he was the first time they kissed, and she tries her best not to flush with jealousy. His cropped hair is soft where her hand reaches up to hold at the back of his head willing him closer.

One step at a time he backs her across the room until her back meets the wall. With fingers gripping the collar of his shirt she begs him to crowd her space. She swears he’s taller now. His shoulders are broader, his arms far more defined. He’s always been handsome but the boyish charm has been replaced by something far more deadly, and she’s convinced she’d die happy if it was him stealing her breath away.

She melts beneath him. His hand moves across her hip, down to feel the round of her ass, before his grip tightens at the flesh of her thigh, warm in her cute little dress slacks. Neither of them bothers to suppress the moans or sighs that leave them when begins to kiss down his neck. His knee slots between her legs, thudding when it makes contact with the wall, startling them both.

“Careful. You break it you buy it, Jake”.

“I think homeownership will be good for me,” he grins catching his breath.

“Not if I buy it first,” she quips, catching her bottom lip between her teeth as she blinks up at him. He groans, his knees weak as her smile grows. “Let’s talk it out over dinner,” He manages his counteroffer.

***

Their house smells like chocolate chip cookies, made from the recipe Jake’s mother passed down. The window in the master bedroom offers a gorgeous view of the San Diego sky. On weekends, she wakes up to the smell of coffee brewing, and Jake sliding back into bed, his hands greedy as he pulls her from her sleep with warm kisses and the promise of breakfast if they manage to make it down the stairs.

The floorboard creaks when he comes home at night, the weight of his day shed at the door. He greets her as if he's been gone for months even when it’s only been a few hours. And he holds as if he’ll never see her again when he returns from a deployment.

The gentle breeze that blows through the open windows of their little home carries away their lingering anxieties, and they allow themselves to soften in each other’s presence.

They lay in the grass in their backyard, paint smeared across their clothes, brows sweaty from a hard day's work. The siding is now a fresh, pale green, the trims glow in a soft white. Above them, the stars shine. The same stars they watched as children, and loved as teens. He watches her, enamoured, as she points to the North Star tracing her way around the night sky, recalling the stories he told her about each constellation. He wonders how many lifetimes are painted in the sky above them, how many lovers have admired the stars as they have.

She pulls him from his thoughts, rolling to settle with her knees at either side of his hips, her left hand resting on his heart. He looks at her as if he’s in awe of her, his wedding band cold on her back as his hand slides underneath her shirt. Leaning down to kiss him she’s certain this is the life she’s always been running towards.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin #FTWC #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun hangman

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bixels · 1 year ago

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Portal 2 is still the perfect game to me. I hyperfixated on it like crazy in middle school. Would sing Want You Gone out loud cuz I had ADHD and no social awareness. Would make fan animations and pixel art. Would explain the ending spoilers and fan theories to anyone who'd listen. Would keep up with DeviantArt posts of the cores as humans. Would find and play community-made maps (Gelocity is insanely fun).

I still can't believe this game came out 12 years ago and it looks like THIS.

Like Mirror's Edge, the timeless art style and economic yet atmospheric lighting means this game will never age. The decision not to include any visible humans (ideas of Doug Rattmann showing up or a human co-op partner were cut) is doing so much legroom too. And the idea to use geometric tileset-like level designs is so smart! I sincerely believe that, by design, no game with a "realistic art style" has looked better than Portal 2.

Do you guys remember when Nvidia released Portal with RTX at it looked like dogshit? Just the most airbrushed crap I've ever seen; completely erased the cold, dry, clinical feel of Aperture.

So many breathtakingly pit-in-your-stomach moments I still think about too. And it's such a unique feeling; I'd describe at as... architectural existentialism? Experiencing the sublime under the shadow of manmade structures (Look up Giovanni Battista Piranesi's art if you're curious)? That scene where you're running from GLaDOS with Wheatley on a catwalk over a bottomless pit and––out of rage and desperation––GLaDOS silently begins tearing her facility apart and Wheatley cries 'She's bringing the whole place down!' and ENORMOUS apartment building-sized blocks begin groaning towards you on suspended rails and cement pillars crumble and sparks fly and the metal catwalk strains and bends and snaps under your feet. And when you finally make it to the safety of a work lift, you look back and watch the facility close its jaws behind you as it screams.

Or the horror of knowing you're already miles underground, and then Wheatley smashes you down an elevator shaft and you realize it goes deeper. That there's a hell under hell, and it's much, much older.

Or how about the moment when you finally claw your way out of Old Aperture, reaching the peak of this underground mountain, only to look up and discover an endless stone ceiling built above you. There's a service door connected to some stairs ahead, but surrounding you is this array of giant, building-sized springs that hold the entire facility up. They stretch on into the fog. You keep climbing.

I love that the facility itself is treated like an android zooid too, a colony of nano-machines and service cores and sentient panel arms and security cameras and more. And now, after thousands of years of neglect, the facility is festering with decomposition and microbes; deer, raccoons, birds. There are ghosts too. You're never alone, even when it's quiet. I wonder what you'd hear if you put your ear up against a test chamber's walls and listened. (I say that all contemplatively, but that's literally an easter egg in the game. You hear a voice.)

Also, a reminder that GLaDOS and Chell are not related and their relationship is meant to be psychosexual. There was a cut bit where GLaDOS would role-play as Chell's jealous housewife and accuse her of seeing other cores in between chambers. And their shared struggle for freedom and control? GLaDOS realizing, after remembering her past life, that she's become the abuser and deciding that she has the power to stop? That even if she can't be free, she can let Chell go because she hates her. And she loves her. Most people interpret GLaDOS "deleting Caroline in her brain" as an ominous sign, that she's forgetting her human roots and becoming "fully robot." But to me, it's a sign of hope for GLaDOS. She's relieving herself of the baggage that has defined her very existence, she's letting Caroline finally rest, and she's allowing herself to grow beyond what Cave and Aperture and the scientists defined her to be. The fact that GLaDOS still lets you go after deleting Caroline proves this. She doesn't double-back or change her mind like Wheatley did, she sticks to her word because she knows who she is. No one and nothing can influence her because she's in control. GLaDOS proves she's capable of empathy and mercy and change, human or not.

That's my retrospective, I love this game to bits. I wish I could experience it for the first time again.

#ramblings #long post #not art #personal #also i know “did glados actually delete caroline” is debated cuz the credits song disputes this #but i like to think she did #it's not sad. caroline died a long time ago #it's a goodbye

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hoshizoralone · 24 days ago

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a post where i separate every woman in smash by how i would categorize them in relation to samus if she had a dating sim and they had to be assigned a character type (that im saving here in case i ever want to go back to think about this) . and other samus & smash girls shipping thoughts

firstly i originally posted this on bluesky so if you’re not following me there.. go do that!! @hoshizoralone.bsky.social

explanations for the tropes are as follows:

childhood friend - palutena (kid icarus and metroid game overlaps of which there are many. like come on man... this is a nobrainer)

energetic cute girls - peach/daisy/pyra (daisy is jock leaning)

jocks - wii fit trainer/alex/mythra

mysterious transfer student - sheik/mii gunner/rosalina/lucina (though samus is not in school. but i'm not sure how else to explain this trope. maybe just "mysterious character")

the love interest that openly flirts with the mc - bayonetta

(varying degrees of) nerds, the smart girls - byleth/robin/zelda/isabelle (like lets say they were put into a scenario with samus. they would be the brains of the operation. robin would have had the adam stuff in dread solved immediately)

i don't care - corrin (i really tried to think of what trope she could be but i don't even imagine samus would like her)

not viable (teenagers). these two become a background couple - min-min/leaf (well, i had thought this, but after making the post on bluesky someone told me leaf’s canon age is 11. i had thought she was nebulously teenaged…. so either age her up here, or forget this tier exists)

not viable (babies) - villagers/inklings/wendy/nana

i do think the idea of creating a sim revolving around samus would be fun, only issue is the pression has truly kicked my ass this year and i really am all out of writing ability. i have two other games already sitting in my drafts half finished…

it could make for a fun rom hack though. Maybe instead of the chozo giving you power ups its the other girls . And at the end you have to Save The Girls not the animals. Someone make that happen.

~~~~

the above isnt arranged by how much i ship it but the below is. imagine gandrayda (of metroid prime 3 fame) right under samus and then a massive powergap and then the rest of the chart:

two professional girlfailures are facing off head to head in this 500 chapter slow burn sam/palu fanfiction - palutena (palutena is a girlfailure at everything but samus only falls into that category for women. it would be an extremely long time for samus to realize palutena likes her . could they make it work when they're both so busy? read my nonexistent fic to find out)

samus has a one sided crush - peach/rosalina/wii fit trainer. (samus will never confess. peach has mario and samus isnt messing w that. samus thinks she's not cool enough for rosalina. wft is already in a relationship consult the lone wii fit trainer lore)

(in my head samus’s one sided crushes are justified like this:

peach - she is literally so pretty it’s blinding. peak femininity is making samus short circuit

rosalina - parentless lady from space who has been left alone/feels lonely resonates hard

wft - she gives constant positive feedback which i think samus is starved to hear)

i used to love sam/bayo but bayo3 sucked so i kinda dont care about it anymore - bayonetta. sad day.

one sided crush on samus - alex/robin/zelda/lucina

samus-neutral - sheik/byleth/isabelle/gunner/pymythra/daisy/corrin. (they probably wouldnt pass up the opportunity to kiss samus if given one but they're not having their thoughts occupied by her)

one sided childhood crush (thinks she's cool) (not reciprocated) - min-min (samus is sort of like a celebrity. it's sort of like having a crush on zac efron when hes 18 and youre 7)

i consider samus in her 30s so every teenager and baby who doesn't have a cute unreciprocated crush is out of the running - leaf/villagers/inklings/nana/wendy

someone had asked… where’s dark samus. for me as one of the five samus x gandrayda shippers, i think if there was a dating sim and dark samus was in it samus would immediately halt the events of the dating sim to go hunt her down as repayment for everything + the whole killing her girlfriend thing. like she cant exist in this world.

the only other samus thing i ship that isn’t mentioned here already is samus x cortana. it could be cute. i do Naut ship her with any guys. lesbian samus for life

aside from samus x gandrayda which will probably always be my ride or die ship, i think the ship with the most interesting stuff to explore is samus/palutena… they aren’t alike characterwise at all, but it’s just that their series are linked in a metatextual sense, so its fun to imagine them together. in a “we’ve been hanging around each other for a while!” kind of way. well, opposites attract..

anyways that was my post. If you read this and have thoughts let me know. Maybe i’ll draw some stuff in my freetime. Cool thanks love ya bye.

#save tag #i dont wanna tag this but its gonna show up in that tumblr search function anyways right. whatever

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blondieeu · 2 months ago

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comfort inn. aizawa s.

a/n; early christmas content?!

being in a long term relationship with aizawa shouta and eventually making him a holiday person even though he denies it.

"shouta, you're still the most talented gift wrapper I know," you teased as you peaked under the absurdly large and fully decorated christmas tree that had actually no business in your small apartment.

more specifically, you were peaking at the nicely wrapped and carefully lined up boxes placed under it. on the other side of the christmas tree, were your clearly not so neatly wrapped presents.

as you both laid on the couch, him on the L side of the couch with his arms lazily behind his head, your small tuxedo cat- terra took over the other half of the couch (literally just the arm of the couch) and you, not too far away from him but not touching as you both laid there in one another presence.

he wore a long sleeve black shirt and some pajama pants. his hair was in a nice low sleek bun you did for him while he brushed his teeth. he doesn't ask you to put his hair in a bun for him anymore, you just do it because you know he appreciates it.

shouta narrowed his eyes at you. "someone has to maintain elegance in this chaotic apartment." he mumbled, almost under his breath but he knew you could hear him. the lower half of his face was covered by a fluffy white throw blanket.

"maintaining elegance is crazy work, you know that right?" you chuckled out loud peeling your eyes from the impeccably wrapped presents to your boyfriend, laughing loudly when you made eye contact and he cracked a smirk that quickly went away. "besides, your elegance looks a lot like perfectionism to me shouta."

"same difference." he didn't even move from his position on the couch, arms still behind his head. aizawa had been wrapping gifts like that since your very first christmas together, he wrapped you one on your first date.

your large christmas tree shined brightly from the corner of your living room. many colorful decorations, lights, ornaments and a bunch of other shit could be seen on it. it was so big and extra and unnecessary, especially for your apartment - you loved it so much.

"..are you social distancing now?" you smiled at his subtle request for you to come closer, obliging him as you settled back into the warmth of your couch. you weren't really cuddling, just laying beside one another. you relished in the feeling of the heat radiating off your boyfriend.

eventually, your gaze swept across the small apartment you and shouta made into a home throughout the years of your relationship. currently, it turned into what looked like someones grandma's house over the holidays - specifically yours... and it may or may not have been because you stole a bunch of her stuff years ago and wont give it back.

sparkly christmas lights, and sneaky mistletoes placed above the more frequently used door frames. the smell of baking cookies filled all the unoccupied spaces in your home. 'ridiculous' color changing lights danced around on your ceiling too, something you personally insisted you have in the house this christmas.

"up to eight christmas' man. " you began, affection filling your voice. "i can't believe I ended up turning the king of emo into a christmas pro." you fell into a fit of laughter as you continued to poke fun at him, he kept his eyes glued to the television mounted on the wall. terra yawned and leaped off the couch before disappearing behind the kitchen island.

the pro-hero raised a bushy brow, ignoring the fact that she left. "emo..?" he seemed a little taken aback that someone would tell him that. "im a little quiet, I'll admit." "a little?-" you sat up on your elbow, turning towards him with raised eyebrows.

"I speak when necessary. there's nothing 'emo' about me."

"what about that drawing koda made of you?" you both thought back to a week prior; visiting the wild wild pussycats and finding a crumbled picture of shouta poorly drawn as the grinch, which was ironic because you were only visiting to ask what koda would want this christmas. a snicker was heard from your side of the couch, a side eye was also received directly after.

shouta turned his head at the mention of the piece of paper, trying to hide his faint smile. "koda's artistic skills are.. a little questionable." you laughed again. "and I'm not a 'christmas pro.' I just enjoy.. some aspects of the holiday." "yeah, like what?" you threw a leg over his as you cuddled into him to steal his blanket.

"don't let me find out you really do like our sparkling rainbow ceiling lights shouta!" your long-term boyfriend instinctively put an arm around your shoulder as you laid your head on his chest, then fixing the blanket on top of the both of you. "I tolerate them."

"you're my closet christmas king" he looked down at you with an unexpected chuckle, his breath tickled the bridge of your nose. "don't tell anyone that." you happily held up your pinky, he obliged and curled his with yours as you sealed it with a kiss. "secrets safe with me baby"

blondieeu xx

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kumkaniudaku · 2 months ago

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Stay A While (BONUS)

Summary: A peak into the future.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 1,865

Warnings: None. Fun fluff!

A/N: Sorry, y'all. I had some more left in the tank.

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

As a bright sun began to set over the Fayetteville horizon to transform the bright cerulean sky to one glowing with orange and purple hues, 22 young men huddled at the 50-yard line of Francis High School’s freshly lined football field. The wind lightly blew around them for a welcomed cool breeze while they ran through yet another play before their first playoff game of the season.

“Defense, we in man coverage. Offense, run a Go. We need to tighten up this late-game execution. How you gon’ react under pressure? Show me somethin’ boys!”

While the head coach rattled off instructions to the team, Terry stood nearby with his arms folded and eyes intently focused on the two wide receivers occupying the field. Cam and CT Wilson were tall and lean twin boys who reminded him of how he looked by senior year except they were sophomores with room to grow. He told them on day one that they were physical specimens with unreal speed and high IQ made for a few semesters at Clemson if they could focus through the head-spinning four years that made up their high school experience. He promised their father that he’d be there to guide them through it all save for a few months during Spring practices.

“Cam, you goin’ inside on this one. You remember the count,” he hollered out from the sideline.

“Locked in!”

Terry answered with a thumbs up and adjusted his stance for optimal comfort. The child-sized weight on his shoulders was starting to get heavy but he knew the tongue-lashing that awaited him if he dared to make a false move.

“He goes too slow. Make him count fast so he won’t drop, Daddy.”

The small voice from above made him look up for confirmation to find her already looking down at him with a scrunched nose and missing teeth that resembled her mother when she was that age.

“You sure?”

“Just watch.”

Together, they watched the play unfold. Terry counted along in his head to time when the ball should leave the quarterback’s hand in comparison to where Cameron should’ve been on the field. Sure enough, he was a step slow causing the quarterback to throw the ball slightly ahead of him for a bobbled pass.

“Hm,” he grunted more to himself than anyone else. “I’ll be damned. Aye, Cam, come here for a second!”

Above him, perched on her throne, Nyla Naomi Richmond rested a smart tablet on her father’s head to watch film from the previous game like she always did. Her mahogany skin was shiny under the bright white LED lights illuminating the field from her mother’s overzealous lotioning before they left home. Per her request, Terry had braided half of her hair back to give way to a collection of moisturized zigzag coils for first-grade picture day. Glasses rested at the tip of her nose with a bright yellow strap to keep them attached to her face. She kept her attention focused on the tablet’s screen, even as Cam jogged toward her and her father on the sideline.

“Yeah, Coach? I do something wrong.”

“Too slow,” Nyla answered without looking up. “Speed up. You’re like a turtle out there. We gotta win, man!”

Terry and Cameron chuckled together as Terry tapped the top of Cam’s helmet.

“A little quicker on the count, man. If you get there when you’re supposed to, that’s a catch all day. Make ‘em beat you. Don’t beat yourself.”

“Type shit. I got you, Coach.”

“Hey! Don’t say bad words.”

“My fault, Coach Ny. Can I do my pushups later?”

“Yeah yeah yeah.”

Cam laughed at her dismissal before accepting a fist bump from Terry and rejoining the field. Terry couldn’t contain his smile as he reached up to tickle his firstborn's sides for that high-pitched giggle he loved so much.

“Be nice, MiMi. Remember the rule?” He craned his neck to look up at her for the lesson he’d been struggling to get through her head since she began joining practice.

She sighed dramatically and frowned. “Be hard on the work, not the person. I know, I know.”

“Be better next time, champ. We’re here to help, not hurt.”

“Yes sir.”

“Yes sir,” he repeated to mock her childish grumble. “You’re so mean like your mama. Gimme a kiss.”

Like she always did, Nyla lifted her daddy’s cap to kiss the crown of his head before placing the hat backward atop her own head.

From the day she first showed herself in a routine sonogram, Terry knew she’d be a firecracker. She refused to show her face to him and Patrice. She carefully concealed her features during an expensive 3D scan and almost hid her gender had they not caught her during an in-utero nap.

She came into the world kicking and screaming at a long 24 inches and a head clean as a whistle just like her pops. With Patrice, she was the perfect baby. She slept all night, cooed and babbled when spoken to, and grew into a little girl who loved to cuddle into her mommy while they watched Pixar movies on the weekends. With Terry, she was a hell-raiser. Loud and rambunctious with a love for NFL games on Sunday afternoons and playful wrestling on the living room rug.

Their smart girl had her hand in everything imaginable and, when they’d listen to other parents complain about the difficulty of raising young ones during playdates and birthday parties, they always came away feeling like they’d lucked out with Nyla.

Across the way, Patrice stepped onto the newly refinished running track with the cheerleading team for warm-ups. Under her school t-shirt, her belly protruded enough to tell anyone looking hard enough that she was expecting. Behind her, she pulled a cooler meant to supply the football team with cold water and snacks for the next day.

“Mrs. Richmond, you want me to help you? You always be actin’ like you Superwoman or somethin’.” her captain called out from behind her, jogging to catch up with Patrice’s long stride.

Patrice waved her off. “Nuh-uh. Y’all start stretching. I need to drop this off personally.”

“Uh-huh. You going to your little boyfriend. Being fast!”

“I learned from you, Z.”

“Not you in my business!”

Patrice’s loud laughter created an echo in the stadium, becoming a bat signal for Terry and Nyla’s attention.

“Hey, Mommy!”

Nyla rushed to hop off Terry’s shoulders like he was a jungle gym, unconcerned with any harm she inflicted with her long legs as she shimmied down his body. He winced in pain until she was safely on the ground before lightly trotting behind her to greet his wife.

Seven years of marriage hadn’t changed much of their love. They’d navigated the growing pains of newlywed life and parenthood to come out stronger on the other side. So much stronger that they’d neglected to follow through on contraceptives to keep their family of three from growing to a family of four. Their parents called a second pregnancy a blessing. And though they mostly felt the same, they also knew that baby number two was the result of too much booze and ignoring the cycle tracker during a kid-free night in Charlotte.

Patrice braced herself for impact once Nyla got closer and wrapped her body around her legs.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted, rubbing circles at the center of her back. “You look so pretty. Did you finish your homework?”

“Mhm! I got 100 on my math test, too!”

“Alriiight! That’s my smart bestie. Now you gotta pick a place for dinner this weekend.”

“Can we get piz-”

“A place that is not buffet pizza again. Pick something else.” Terry interjected, making Nyla groan. Dad’s word was final whether she liked it or not. His eyes flickered to Patrice’s still for extra confirmation. Mom’s word was final final.

She offered a small smile while zhushing the back of Nyla’s hair. “Try something new, Naomi. Maybe chicken tenders this time?”

Nyla accepted her parents’ redirection with another dramatic sigh that made Terry and Patrice stifle laughter.

“I know, mama. It’s so hard being six years old. We can write a book about it tonight when we get home so you can help your little sister or brother when they get here.”

“I hope it’s a girl. Boys are boring.”

Neither of them could muster a response before Nyla abandoned them to supervise the cheerleaders as they started to run through cheers.

They waited in silence until she was out of earshot to face each other with equally broad smiles.

Terry spoke up first as he reached down to take the cooler’s handle from Patrice’s hand.

“Didn’t I tell you from the jump she’d be a second you?”

“Oh no, she’s a second DeeDee. She might have my mom’s middle name but she is your mama through and through.”

“Touché.” Terry chuckled. That’s why the duo got along so well. They were twin flames in more ways than one.

A lull in the conversation made Patrice subconsciously bring her hand up to her stomach for a soft rub. Terry looked on with a fond smile, proud of the way her wedding ring reflected the light back into the night sky like a star on the ground.

He pushed the cooler to the side and grabbed her free hand to pull her into a side hug. He kissed her temple several times over, making Patrice giggle like a schoolgirl at the sensation.

“We make a cute kid, don’t we?”

Patrice hummed and closed her eyes for a brief second to feel the full press of his chest on her body and his arms squeezing a little tighter than before. “So cute. She talks too much, but that’s okay.”

“Wonder where she gets that from?”

“Her damn daddy.”

The vibration from Terry’s deep baritone encased in laughter tingled against Patrice’s arm to cover her in warmth from head to toe. A whistle and call of his name from the field snapped both of them from their semi-private moment, making them reluctantly pull away.

Terry leaned down to kiss the corner of her lips as a parting gift before slyly sneaking the tip of his tongue into her mouth. She playfully pushed him to save them from the embarrassment of taking it too far in public.

“C’mon, MiMi, we not done yet.” Patrice watched Nylah quickly ditch her squad to meet her daddy’s outstretched arms for him to place her back on his shoulders and rejoin the team. He called back over his shoulder for her attention. “I love you, baby! Go get off your feet!”

“Sit down, Mommy!”

“Yeah, sit down, Mrs. Richmond!”

Patrice wore a semi-serious scowl on her face and threw her hands up to stop the barrage of demands.

“Woah, woah, woah! I am grown,” she hollered back to everyone in the area. She began the slow journey toward her team and clapped her hands. “Just for that, let me see that Hot To Go routine. If you mess up, you owe me a lap.”

A collection of teenage girl groans made Patrice crack a smile.

Maybe Terry was right.

---

TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @onherereading @hrlzy @becauseimswagman1 @thiccc-c @urfavblackbimbo @blackburnbook @ashanti-notthesinger @xo-goldengirl

#terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge #aaron pierre

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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A Formal Reprimand | Hangman x Reader

Summary: Above all else, Jake prided himself on his spotless Naval record. When his wife inadvertently causes him to be formally reprimanded during a deployment, he plans to give her a fair share of the punishment when he gets home.

Warnings: Fluffy smutty fun

Length: 3000

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

You clung to Jake's body, your eyes welling up as you held onto him. He kissed your beautiful lips one last time, swiping away your tears. He should have probably already been aboard the USS Nimitz, but he just couldn't seem to pull himself away.

"I'll miss you." Your broken sob had his heart aching as he held you tight. Everyone bustling around the dock just knocked the two of you closer together, but he didn't mind that one bit.

"I'll miss you more, Darlin'," he promised. "It's just two months. You'll hardly notice I'm gone."

His crooked smile made you smile and laugh through your tears. "I think I might notice that my sexy husband isn't around," you told him, wiping your eyes on the collar of his uniform. "But two months isn't so bad." Your voice was soft and so familiar, and Jake took a moment to close his eyes and memorize it. Because falling asleep without your voice in his ear would be the hardest part about being away from you.

"Seresin!"

Jake sighed. "I need to go now, before I get a reprimand." He kissed you softly and whispered, "I love you so much." And then he was finally tearing himself away from you, turning back to watch you crying and waving. It was just two months this time, but it still hurt him to leave.

---------------------------

It was so bad. Jake did almost nothing except look forward to the moments when he could talk to you. But even the rushed facetime calls just made him miss you more. You held up the dog to wave at him and told him about work. You looked like you were doing just fine, and Jake pretended he was, too.

But at the end of each call, he'd lean in closer to the screen and ask you to say something that he could think about before he went to bed. Sometimes your response was sweet. Sometimes it was decidedly dirty. But he always loved watching your lips as you responded.

A few weeks in, he was talking to you, and you looked so good, Jake felt himself stirring a bit. "You gonna tell me something I can think about before bed, Darlin'?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, slowly unbuttoning your blouse as he leaned in closer. He figured he was probably drooling, but it didn't matter. You weren't wearing a bra, and when your peaked nipples came into view, you whispered, "If I were with you, I would have your cock in my mouth right now. And I'd let you cum all over my face, just the way you like to."

You were running your fingers along your tits, and Jake was throbbing for you. 'Darlin'," he grunted, "I'm gonna need that kind of special treatment when I get home."

"Anything you want. I hope you've been enjoying those polaroids I tucked into your bag."

"Almost every day," he promised, and you blew him a kiss.

When the call ended, Jake hustled awkwardly back to his bunk, praying that Fanboy was still at dinner or the gym. Empty. Perfect. He quickly locked the door and unzipped his pants while he reached for the collection of polaroids he had hidden with his clean laundry.

And there you were, with his cock in your mouth during an anniversary trip to Bora Bora. And again with his cock buried in your pussy. And another one with your hands on your tits. He spread the photos out on his bed and wrapped his hand around his length.

"Fuck," he groaned, focusing on a photo of you using a pink toy on yourself that he had taken a few months ago. Those gorgeous tits and your perfect face on display. He jerked himself off a little faster, thinking about your voice and your warm hands. He was so close, so fucking close. Jake reached for a handkerchief and finished in it, panting as he thought of the way you'd be giggling as he blew his load onto your face.

He missed you so much. Missed everything about you. As he zipped up his pants, he wondered when he'd be able to call you again. And then he heard a key in the door, followed by Fanboy's voice, and Jake started to panic. He scooped up the polaroids and looked around.

"Shit," he gasped, shoving them between the pages of the murder mystery paperback he'd brought with him to read when he got bored. He tossed the book back onto the small nightstand just as his bunkmate came bounding into the room.

"Hangman!" Mickey greeted him. "Get changed. Let's hit the gym."

Jake swallowed hard and tried not to look as suspicious as he felt. "Sure," he agreed, turning to his dresser before his friend could see that his pants were still unbuttoned. He pulled out some gym clothes, and a few minutes later, he and Fanboy were on their way to workout.

-----------------------------

A week later, Jake had completed a strenuous mission, and he was exhausted. But by the time he returned from the showers, ready to crawl into his bed, Fanboy was already sound asleep and snoring. Loudly. Jake groaned and grabbed that book he never got a chance to start. The lounge would probably be deserted right now, and maybe, if it was empty, he could sleep a little while in there.

It seemed like he passed every single admiral aboard the aircraft carrier on his way, and he stopped to appropriately address each of them. When the lounge was in sight, Jake turned just in time to smack directly into Admiral Simpson. He watched in horror as his paperback went flying out of his hand, and as the pages separated in midair, Jake's brain short circuited. In a fraction of a second, he recalled what was depicted in each one of the eight polaroid photos he had forgotten were tucked in there. And then he got to watch as each one came loose from the book and sailed through the air.

He could actually see the photo of you bent over the kitchen counter in nothing but his dog tags as it soared past Cyclone's head. "Fuck!" Jake shouted, eyes wide as he raked his fingers through his hair in a state of extreme panic. He lunged for the closest photo, but Cyclone's boot came down on it before he could do anything about it.

"Lieutenant Seresin. You will not use that foul language in my presence. Do you understand."

"Yes sir, Admiral Simpson," he managed to choke out, standing at full attention. But Jake's eyes were scanning the floor, trying to locate the other seven polaroids. If he could just get them before Cyclone or anyone else actually looked at them...

But it was too late. He watched as Admiral Simpson moved his boot and bent to pick up that goddamn filthy looking photo.

"Explain this, please," Cyclone demanded, holding it up.

"Sir," Jake began, blood rushing from his face. "I...."

"Is this pornography?"

Jake took a deep breath and shook his head as he said, "It's not porn! It's my wife! Sir."

With absolutely no expression on his face, Cyclone held out the photo for Jake to take. "Pick them up. I never want to see them again. And meet me in my office at 0700."

"Yes, sir," Jake ground out, and as soon as he walked away, Jake was crawling around on the floor, making sure he located each and every beautiful photo. He tucked them back into his book, silently thankful that none of his masterbatory materials had been confiscated or seen by anyone else. It was bad enough his commanding officer got to see your ass and tits. And now, as he headed back to his bunk, the apprehension set in. He didn't know what to expect at seven in the morning.

-------------------------

Cyclone was still pissed. Jake made sure his uniform was spotless without any creases. Every single pin was straight. There was not a hair out of place on his head. But Simpson still scrutinized every part of him.

Then he surprised Jake. "I know what it's like to be away from your spouse, Lieutenant. I know how...challenging that can be. However, you will not be caught with that kind of material again. Or your formal reprimand will turn into a potential discharge."

A formal reprimand. Jake didn't have so much as a tardy note on his flawless record. Until now. "Yes, sir," he agreed, picturing the photos all wrapped up in an oversized envelope and tucked away in his duffle bag. Whatever his punishment was going to be, it was not good.

"Lieutenant, you'll give me three hundred pushups every morning while I drink my coffee on deck for the remainder of your deployment. And once we are back at Top Gun, that will continue in lieu of your lunch breaks. For a month."

"Yes, sir," Jake responded, shoulders squared.

"We'll start today," Admiral Simpson replied, and Jake followed him out onto the deck. The sunlight was bright, and he would have rather been dressed in anything other than his khaki uniform, but Jake did three hundred pushups while everyone working on deck watched. He did them while Cyclone sipped his mug of coffee. He did them while counting them off for himself. And he didn't complain. There was no time for him to change before his meeting, so then he got to sit in his own sweat for a few hours.

This went on for eighteen more days. By the end of his deployment, everyone knew Jake had been reprimanded. Everyone enjoyed the chance to watch his morning pushups and give him a hard time afterwards. But nobody knew how he had earned them. Not even Fanboy.

In fact, there was only one person who Jake would allow to know the truth, and he planned on making sure his wife took a little bit of the blame. And maybe a bit of her own punishment as well.

----------------------------

One more hour. Just an hour and Jake would be back. You were already waiting at the dock, hopelessly desperate to see your sweet husband. "Jake!" you shouted his name, jumping up and down and trying to fight through the crowd to get to him as soon as you saw him.

Oh, he looked so good, and when you finally reached him, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. "Jake, I missed you so much," you whispered against his lips, dragging your fingers up through his hair and then down his arms. "You're huge! How much were you working out?"

He wrapped one big hand around the back of your neck and you moaned for him. Right there on the dock. You whined his name as he held you in place. "Darlin'," he drawled, his big, thick fingers wrapping around your neck until you had to squeeze your thighs together. "I'm a little sore from all the push-ups."

"Push-ups?" you asked, reaching for him again, but his hand was firm on your neck. "Jake?" you whispered. "Please, let's go home. I need you."

But he just shook his head, kissed your forehead once and said, "You need to be punished. That's what you need, Darlin'. Now let's get you home and get started on that."

"Punished?" you asked, but he didn't say another word. He guided you through the crowd, his hand slipping down to spank your butt through your dress before he squeezed you.

"Yes," he replied, and once he got his bag and both of you settled in his truck and started the engine, he smirked at you. "You really loved the idea of me jerking off to those polaroids, didn't you, Darlin'?"

You moaned and ran your hands along your bare thighs as he drove toward home. "Yes. Did you love looking at them?"

"Oh, I sure did. But do you know who did not love looking at them?"

Your eyes went wide and you turned to look at him. "Who? Someone else saw them?"

Jake laughed sardonically as he glanced at you. Your head was swirling with embarrassment, but nothing prepared you for when he said, "Admiral Simpson caught me with them."

You gasped. "Your boss saw them?"

"He sure did, Darlin'. And he gave me a formal reprimand. On my perfect record."

"Jake," you whispered, your brain supplying a million questions. He prided himself on his perfect record, fifteen years in the making. He also prided himself on his relationships with his commanding officers. "How many pushups did you have to do?"

"Thousands."

"Oh shit. And it's going on your permanent record? Will you have more punishments when you go to work on Monday? What else happened? How did he see the photos?"

Jake pulled into the driveway and parked his truck. Then he unbuckled both his seatbelt and yours before reaching for you a little roughly. "You know what? I don't think I'm going to answer any of your questions until you share a little bit of my punishment. After all, you're the one who sent me away with the polaroids."

"Jake," you gasped as he squeezed your thighs and kissed you hard. He climbed out of the truck with you clinging to him. "I'm sorry, Jake. I didn't know you'd get in trouble."

"Hmmm," he hummed, setting you down as he dug out his house key and unlocked the door. He pushed the door open and followed you inside, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. "Seems like I remember you telling me how you'd love to suck my cock."

Your moan was loud and needy, and when you glanced down, you could see that your husband was hard in his uniform pants. "Let me do it," you begged. "Let me give you a blowjob."

He grasped your chin in his hand and forced your gaze back up to his green eyes. "You will," he promised, and you had to bite your lip to keep the pathetic little noises you wanted to make at bay. He kissed your forehead and added, "Just exactly the way I want it. Every day until my punishment has been lifted."

He pulled you closer still grasping your chin as you softly asked, "How do you want it?"

"Rough," he replied, and you whimpered as he guided you to the floor in front of him. "I want it rough, Darlin'. Think you can handle that?"

You were already unzipping his pants as you looked up at him. "Of course. But Jake... is it really a punishment if I want it so fucking badly?" you asked, dipping your hand inside his underwear and pulling him free. He was huge and hard and you had missed your husband so much. And you knew he'd take you to bed and give you whatever you wanted after you got to do this for him.

"You want it rough?" he asked, green eyes focused on your lips as you parted them and took his cock. When you nodded, sucking on his thick length, he grunted. He wrapped one hand around your neck and the other around the back of your head. "You feel so good. I'll make it rough for you."

And then with one smooth thrust, your hands were grabbing at his thighs as he hit the back of your throat. You sucked in a breath through your nose, and Jake stroked your neck with his thumb as you gagged. "Fuck," he gasped, pulling himself out until you were left licking and sucking on the tip, and then he rammed himself deep again.

You were trying to say his name as you gagged. Tears filled your eyes and saliva dripped down to your chest and the front of your dress. But your husband told you that you were such a good wife, the only one he wanted, and then he went a little faster.

"Jake," you gasped, taking a deep breath when he withdrew. But he used his big palm at the back of your head to push himself deep once again. He was groaning, and when you cupped his balls with your right hand, he went even faster. Quick little strokes gagged you, and the wet sounds were making you clench around nothing.

"A formal reprimand," he growled, and you took him the whole way and held him there as he licked his lips, and whispered, "Fuck, Darlin'." He gave you no warning. You gagged on his hot cum as he filled your throat. You tried to swallow him down, but you felt it drip out of the corners of your mouth. And then he withdrew and with a few strokes of his hand, he painted your face with the last of his ejaculate.

"Oh my god," you groaned, your throat sore and raspy as you wiped his cum from your cheek. But he was already pulling you to your feet, one arm wrapped around your waist as he kissed your neck.

"You okay?" he asked softly.

"Yes," you promised, licking your lips clean. "I loved that."

He groaned next to your ear. "I knew you would. I knew it wouldn't even be a proper punishment."

You wiped your face and licked your fingers clean. "You promised me I'd be getting punished as long as you were. You promised me, Jake."

Your husband kissed your lips and swiped his tongue into your mouth. "You really want to do that every day for the next month?"

"I can't believe you got in so much trouble for the polaroids," you whispered against his lips. "But you're crazy if you think I'm not going to take my own punishment like a champ."

"I love you," he crooned, holding you close. "It's good to be home."

"I missed you. And I'm sorry your photos got confiscated."

Jake chuckled, appraising you with those pretty green eyes. "Oh, I still have them."

"You still have them? But I thought Admiral Simpson-"

He kissed you hard again before he said, "I got off easy, Darlin'. I'd take a hundred formal reprimands as long as I get to keep those polaroids."

You rolled your eyes and took his hands in yours. "We can always make more."

"That's what I'm counting on," he drawled with a smile. "Now go grab the camera like a good girl and meet me in bed."

---------------------------

Thanks for reading! I kind of missed writing for Jake! Maybe I'll do this a little more often. Thanks for @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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thealtoduck · 11 months ago

Text

The One Where A Model Moves In Upstairs

Joey Tribbiani x Male Reader

Warnings: Implied abuse from your ex, the guys assume you’re a girl…

Summary: The guys find out that a model moved in to the apartment above Joey and Chandler’s…

——

Rachel and Monica walked towards the enterance of their apartment building where they saw a moving truck parked outside filled with boxes and furniture. ”Is someone moving in?” Rachel questioned. ”Yeah, i heard that someone got the apartment above Joey and Chandler” Monica explained.

”Come on, let’s go welcome them” Rachel said, Monica uttred a quick ”Yeah” in agreement amd the two made their way over. A young man came out from the apartmen building and picked up one of the boxes.

Rachel and Monica immediately noticed how handsome he was. Rachel could have sworn she’d seen him before somewhere. ”Hi, excuse us, are you the one moving in to this building?” Rachel asked. ”Yeah, i am, do you live here?” you questioned cheerfully.

”Yeah, we live on the third floor, I’m Monica and this is Rachel” Monica introduced the two. ”Nice to meet you two, I’m Y/n, I’m moving on to the fourth floor” you told them. Rachel then had a moment of realisation. ”Oh my god” she exclaimed. ”Now i remember you’re the model Y/n L/n” she said excitedly and you nodded in confirmation.

”I loved the photoshoot you did for Vogue last month” Rachel said. ”Thank you so much, it’s always nice to meet people who appreciate my work” you thanked her. Monica then gave a look at the truck behind you. ”Would you like some help bringing up all the boxes?” she offered.

”I mean if you don’t mind some help would be really nice” you said. The two then helped you bring all the boxes up to the apartment.

——

Later that day when Rachel and Monica were back in their apartment Joey entered taking some food from the fridge as usual. ”Hey Joey” Rachel greeted. ”Hey Rachel” Joey said mouth full of food. ”Did you meet the model?” she asked.

”The model?” Joey questioned, his interest peaking. ”Yeah, a model moved in to the apartment above yours” Monica told him. ”Really? Was she hot? Bet she’s a real smoke show” Joey asked and started fantasizing.

”Uhm… Joey the model is a gu-” Monica tried but Joey cut her off saying excitedly ”I gotta go tell Chandler” and he walked out the door back to his own apartment. ”Should-… Should we tell him?” Rachel asked. ”No, he needs to learn to listen. Plus, this will be more fun” Monica said.

——

While you were unpacking cardboard boxes there came an eager knock on the door. You got up from the floor and walked to the door. You opened it and your eyes were met with three rather handsome guys, one of which were leaning against the doorframe, all their eyes widened slightly once they saw you.

”Hi, can i help you?” you greeted. ”Uhm, is your sister home?” One of them asked. ”I don’t have a sister” you answered awkwardly. ”Is your mom home?” Another one tried. ”No, she dosen’t live here” you told them. ”The model! Where’s the model?!” The guy who had been leaning against the door yelled in deperation.

”Oh… I’m the model” you told the three, making their eyes widen again. ”Welcome to the building” a guy with brown hair said nicely and a guy with short black hair added a quick ”Yeah”. The two then sprinted away in embarassment. Leaving only the guy who had been leaning against the doorframe.

His suprised face then turned in to a flirty smile and he said ”How you doin’?”. ”I’m fine” you said a bit stunned from the interaction with the other two. ”Heard from my friends that you just moved in and wanted to personally come welcome you” he explained. ”I’m Joey Tribbiani, and if you ever need anything i’m just one apartment below” he introduced himself charmingly.

”Nice to meet you Joey, I’m Y/n L/n” you told him.

——

Joey was having a major crisis, he had been flirting with a guy. He’d never done that before in his whole life, but you were so breathtakingly beautiful he couldn’t help himself. Now he didn’t know what to do.

He entered the central perk where the others were waiting. ”Hey Joey, what’s up?” Phoebe greeted. ”Hey, it’s nothing, it’s just this guy Y/n, he’s so awesome but in like the way chicks are awesome, it’s so confusing”. The friends gave each other a look before looking back at Joey.

Monica then voiced their thoughts by asking ”Joey, are you trying to say you’re ”intrigued” by a guy?”. ”Maybe, i’m not sure” he said. ”Well-Well-Well looks like Joey the ladiesman has become Joey the mansman” Ross joked.

”Hey Joey Tribbiani is for everybodies enjoyment, okay?” Joey stated seriously.

”Are you gonna ask him out?” Rachel asked. ”I don’t know, how do you even go about asking a guy out?” Joey questioned, which was followed by a long thinking silence. ”How do you girls ask guys out?” Ross asked looking at Rachel, Phoebe and Monica.

”We don’t know, guys usually asks us out” Phoebe said and the other two nodded in agreement. ”Guess you’ll just have to figure it out” Chandler said leaving Joey to his thoughts.

——

Next time you and Joey met he would get his chance to talk to you. You were awkwardly dragging a large package up the stairs. Joey then appeared from the bottom stairs saying ”Hey Y/n, what’s in the package?”.

”It’s my new dinner table, could you help me get it up to my apartment?” you asked. ”Of course” Joey said eagerly, immediately grabbing the package and helping you carry it. Once you entered the apartment you put the package down.

”Thanks you so much for the help, Joey” you said gratefully, you kneeled down and started opening the package. ”No problem, will you be fine from here?” he asked helpfully. You then picked up a thick building manual from the package as realisation kicked in, you looked up at Joey from the ground and said ”No, i don’t think so”.

”I’ll get some tools” Joey said opening the door and went down to get a toolbox in his apartment.

”Thank you” you called after him.

——

After several hours of trials and tribulations you and Joey had managed to put together the dinner table. ”Thank you so much, Joey, anything you need just ask, i promise i’ll do something nice for you” you thanked him gratefully. Joey smiled and saw his moment.

”Well there was one thing i wanted to ask you-” he started but was cut off by a large banging on the door.

”Y/n! Are you there?” A male voice asked, Joey went to open the door but you stopped him saying ”Don’t open the door, it’s my ex, i really don’t wanna see him”. Joey noticed how tense you had become.

Another set of violent knocks came. ”Y/n! I know you’re in there! Open the door!” his voice came again, louder this time. ”Go to your room, i’ll take care of him” Joey told you. ”Joey, I-” you started but Joey reasured you ”Don’t worry i’ll handle him”. You did as told and went in to your bedroom.

Joey opened the door and was met with another man. The man seemed suprised seeing Joey ”Who are you?” he asked. ”I’m Joey. You should get out of here, man, Y/n dosen’t wanna see you” Joey told him patiently. ”I just want to talk to him” your ex said and tried to make his way in only for Joey to block his enterance with his arm.

”I said he dosen’t wanna see you” Joey said sternly. The guy grew annoyed and hissed ”Hey, this is none of you business, man, so stay out of it and let me in”. ”It is my business if you’re harassing one of my friends, so get out of here now before we call the police” Joey threatened.

Your ex glared at Joey before stomping away angrily, Joey closed the door and locked it. You came out of you room saying gratefully ”Thank you, Joey”. ”Hey, no problem-” he was caught of guard as you wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug.

Joey then hugged you back saying ”If he comes back, you let me know and i’ll deal with him, okay?”. ”Thank you” you said putting you face against his shoulder. ”Was there something you wanted to ask before?” you then remembered.

It hardly felt like the right time to ask you out so Joey settled for ”Me and the others were planning on grabbing some pizza and rent a movie, would you like to join us?”.

You smiled and answered ”I’d love to”.

#joey tribbiani x male reader #joey tribbiani x male!reader #friends x male reader #friends x male!reader #x male!reader #male reader #x male reader #male!reader

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schmidtsbimbo · 1 year ago

Note

if you’d like to you should def do a ethan x reader where the reader has a super shitty boyfriend and is enemies with ethan, making fun of him nd stuff like that

so what if to get back at the boyfriend, ethan fucks the reader and in like the middle of it ethan whips out his phone/her phone and calls the readers boyfriend, making him listen to her whimper/whine ethan’s name 😛😛

★Jealous Boy - Ethan Landry ★

𖦹Warnings: MDNI 18+, afab reader, unprotected piv, cunnilingus, cheating, pet names, hair pulling, fingering, slight dumbification if you squint

⋆｡°‧Requests are open! Comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated ♡

―୨୧⋆ ˚A/N: i love you for this idea anon, i kinda hate everything about this especially the ending, hope this still turned out okay! , made this so much longer than I originally planned or wanted to, pls let me know if i missed any warnings!

Word count: 1.9k

This has not been proofread^_^

Just hours ago you were arguing with your boyfriend at a stupid frat party you never wanted to go to in the first place.

Now you’re standing here in your kitchen, breath hitched in your throat as you stare at the man above you.

Pinned between his body and the dining table, his arms completely closing you in.

You look down, eyes landing on your phone that’s in his hand as watch message from your boyfriend coming in.

You hear a short and dry laugh come from the man above you as you move your eyes between him and the phone.

“Look at what a fucking loser you’re with y/n” Ethan says as he moves his arm, turning the phone towards you so you can read the messages.

You stare at the messages before you look up at Ethan, the sight of him smirking above you making you lightheaded and weak in the knees.

You stay quiet for a moment and get a split second of clarity as you look away from him.

“We shouldn’t be doing this Ethan” You say, voice full of doubt as you look back up at him.

You feel a shiver go down your spine as he inches closer to your face, his lips brushing past your cheek as they hover over your ear.

“I still don’t understand why you chose him when I’ve been right here” he whispers, lightly nipping at your ear and sending goosebumps down your entire body.

You stand there completely frozen, trying to form a single coherent thought as your chest is rising and falling trying to control your breathing before you feel his lips smashing against your own.

You let out a small shriek at the sudden impact but quickly sink further into it, making Ethan smirk into the kiss as he places his large hands onto your waist, pulling your lower body towards his.

He breaks the kiss and trails kisses down your neck as you part your lips at the sensation.

“Jump” he simply mumbles against your skin before he brings his lips back to yours.

You instinctively jump into his arms and let him lift you up, placing you on the table and never breaking the kiss as you spread your legs, letting himself position himself right between them.

He starts to trial soft and sloppy kisses down your neck, his hands running down your body as they reach the top of your jeans, tugging on them lightly as you eagerly lift your bottom off table with your hands, making it easier for him to slide the jeans down your legs till they’re discarded somewhere behind him.

Ethan’s lips make their way back up to yours, completely engulfing them like a starved man as his hands find their way to your chest, his thumbs rubbing small circles against the peak of your breasts, earning a small whine from you as your hands make their way up his shoulders and wrapping around his neck.

He breaks from the kiss and drops to his knees, grabbing your legs with his hands and pulling you closer to the edge of the table, your clothed heart right in front of his face as he lets out a groan.

“Just as pretty as I imagined” he says looking up at your face as he brings his hand up to your core, rubbing small circles onto the bundle of nerves under your soaked panties, making you throw your head back and hold back at the sensation.

His words send jolts of electricity and need straight to your core as you bite your lip, trying to refrain from letting out a whiny gasp.

He smirks at your reaction and starts planting slow and soft kisses up your thigh, almost torturing you with how slow and delicate he was being before he finally reaches your core, moving his hands from your thighs to the top of your underwear, ripping the fabric from your body with his bare hands and instantly diving his head between your thighs.

Giving you almost no time to react as he licks a flat stripe up and down your folds as you let out a gasp and throw your head back, your reaction making him smirk as he wraps his lips against your clit.

“Look at me” he mumbles against it, roughly sucking on your clit as he hooks his arms around your thighs to keep you in place.

You let out a whiny moan at the harshness against your clit and bring your head back up to look down at him, your hand reaching down to his curls and gripping them as you watched him eat you out like you were the most divine thing he’s ever tasted.

You tug on his hair again, making him groan against your clit, the vibration of it making your brain foggy as the feeling of desire in you continues to grow.

“Ethan” you moan out as you involuntarily buck your hips up, earning another groan from Ethan as he tightens the grip on your thighs, the thought of his fingers leaving bruises on your thighs threatening to send you over the edge.

You try to hold it together as you try to form a single sentence, not being able to let out a single word but a pathetic whine, “Ethan, please”

At this he pulls away for a moment, your sleek making his lips shine as he looks up at you expectantly.

“Please what, baby?” He says as he leans back in between your thighs, planting a soft kiss directly on your clit that makes you buck your hips again, a small moan escaping from your lips, earning a chuckle from him as he pulls away again and looks back up at you.

“Use your words, princess” he whispers as he loosens his grip on your thighs, his lips hovering above the skin of your thighs as he waits for you to respond.

You let out a whiny moan at his teasing and bite your lip, not being able to form any words from how dizzy the sight of him on his knees with his head in between your thighs makes you.

He immediately stands up as the sounds leave your lips, engulfing them in a kiss as one of his hands wrap around your waist, your hands traveling towards his shirt and tugging on the hem of it as you hear the sound of his zipper coming undone and his pants dropping to the floor.

He breaks the kiss for a second to quickly remove his shirt and you follow right behind him, adding your shirt to the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

He dives straight to your neck as he starts leaving marks and bruises all along your collarbones, his hand reaching down to your aching heat as he dips his fingers in between your folds, earning a quiet moan from your parted lips.

Within seconds you feel yourself lose control all over again at the feeling of his rough fingers rolling the small bundle of nerves in between his fingers.

You instinctively reach down for his wrist, not wanting to come undone so quickly.

“Ethan, please” you mumble against his lips as you move your hand from his wrist to the edge of his boxers.

“Please just fuck me” you finally moan out as you tug on his boxers, any feeling of embarrassment gone as it’s overpowered by the feeling of desire.

He lets out a groan at your words and breaks the kiss to plant sloppy kisses on your neck as he tugs down his boxers.

“So needy, just begging for more, begging me to fuck you” he says in between kisses as he grabs your hips with his hands, moving his head up so your foreheads are touching as he lines himself up with you.

Giving you almost no warning he slams himself into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size as you let out a gasp, throwing your head back as you feel him stretch you out in the most delicious way possible.

He quickly sets a steady pace, fucking into you fast as his arms hold you flush against his chest, making the table shake with every thrust as he snaps his hips into yours.

He tucks his head against your neck, letting out groans that instantly threaten to throw you over the edge, your own moans being muffled by the skin on his shoulders before he lets go of your body, pushing your back onto the table, never losing his rhythm as his hands hold a strong grip on your hips.

“Such a pretty girl” he says, slowing his pace down a bit, causing you to let out a small whine at the loss of friction his skin made against your clit.

“What would Jacob say if he saw you like this? Begging whining for me to fuck you?” He asks as he keeps his pace slow.

His words send waves of heat straight to your core as you claw at his arms, trying to get a hold of anything to try and control yourself to no avail.

You knew how wrong this was, cheating on your boyfriend with the one guy he told you to stay away from.

You knew how wrong it was and yet you’re crumbling beneath him, wrapping your legs around his hips, keeping a greedy hold on him as he fucks into you.

You watch him reach for something next to your head through your teary eyes, not being able to focus on what he’s holding.

“How about we call him, huh?” He asks as he starts picking up his pace again, making you clench around him as more moans start slipping from your lips again.

He groans at this and drops the phone next to your head again, quickening his pace as you start to unravel beneath him.

You hear the phone ringing and Jacob picking up within seconds, you no longer had any control over the noises you were making as the moans freely fell from your lips, not caring if Jacob or even the neighbors could hear you at this point.

You hear muffled yelling coming from the phone that gets completely tuned out with your moans and Ethan’s breathy grunts, letting out a small gasp as he grabs one of your legs and throws it over his shoulder.

Your eyes widen at the sudden change of angles as his tip brushes right against your sweet spot, making yo feel lightheaded as your climax is approaching fast.

“C’mon, let him know who’s got you this needy and whiny” Ethan says in between grunts and breathy moans, the words spilling from his mouth earning a whimper from you.

He reaches one of his hands up and tangles it in your hair, slightly lifting your head from the table as he grips your hair.

“Hmm? Too fucked out to talk?” He asks as he leans down to whisper in your ear, his words making you clench around him as you feel yourself seconds from climax.

“Ethan, I’m gonna come, please” you whimper out, not even thinking about what you say as the words leave your lips.

The pressure of the new angle and his filthy words sending you over the edge as you arch your back, chanting his name over and over again like a prayer.

His climax follows right behind yours as you start seeing stars from how sensitive you are, squeezing his arms trying to stabilize yourself with anything you can grab as he collapses on top of you with one final thrust, completely filling you up with his warmth.

You slowly start coming to your senses as the high starts to fade, becoming aware of your surroundings as the muffled yelling coming from the phone starts playing in your ears again.

Ethan gently lifts himself off of you and pulls out slowly, causing a small whine to fall from your lips at the loss of contact.

You watch him as he grabs the phone from the table and puts it up to his ear, a smirk playing on his lips as he lets out a chuckle before throwing the phone back onto the table.

He leans down and pulls your bruised and swollen lips into a kiss, breaking away from it as he puts his hand on the back of your head, placing your foreheads together.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry fic #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #jack champion fic #jack champion #ethan landry scream #ethan scream 6 #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry x female reader #scream #scream vi #scream smut #scream fanfic #Rosie writes ―୨୧

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garciaasfluffypen · 3 months ago

Text

only have eyes for them

pairing: jemily x reader, but its only established jemily in this oneshot word count: 2.4k warnings: HI I FINALLY HAD INSPO FOR THE BEGINNING OF THE SERIES!! am i writing it out of order? mayhaps. do i care? absolutely not. anyway, reader is a bit aloof but they find it endearing, hotch is being a dad (as always) and emily is cheeky

the hum of the lights above jj filled her senses as the words of the most recent case blurred together on the page. running a hand through her hair, she shifted in the armchair she had perched herself on next to her wife’s chair at the round table. the two of them had been looking over the profile for about an hour now, waiting for hotch to say the official invitation from the maryland pd had come through before calling in the team. she, emily and penelope had offered to stay and get a head start on the profile, but jj now found herself wishing she had gotten more than just a bag of cheetos from the vending machine an hour prior to get her through the briefing. penelope had already holed herself up in her office to start a geoprofile, leaving jj and emily to go over the file instead of going out to dinner like they had originally planned. jj looked up from the case file she and emily were reading over, the darkness of the bau causing her eyes to go a little blurry from straining so much. the end of jj’s pen left her mouth as she tilted her head, brows furrowed in confusion as she looked to her wife. something was on her mind.

“em??”

emily cleared her throat. “so do you… you remember how we talked about finding someone together to ask out, yeah?” ”

“… yes?” jj wasn’t entirely sure what emily was getting at. “how is that…?”

“y/n is single.”

oh. that’s what emily was getting at.

jj closed the file in her hands, setting it down on the table as she looked over to the brunette. her elbows moved to rest on her knees, realizing that they clearly were having two different trains of thought at the moment. not that it was a bad thing, per se. emily wasn’t wrong at all- she also thought y/n was one of the hottest people she had ever met. what jj couldn’t figure out was how emily’s mind had gone to them instead of staying focused on the case. she’d have to talk to her about it tonight.

“okay, you’ve intrigued me. explain.”

“i think.. i think i’d like to ask them out.” emily looked at jj nervously. “you can veto it but-“

“no no,” jj sat up straighter. “go on.”

“i just feel like they’d be a good fit for us.” emily adjusted in her chair. “they get along with both of us, they’re queer, and as a bonus they’ve been flirting back with us.”

“with you, my love. they’re flirting with you.” jj chuckled. “i haven’t tried flirting with them since we technically don’t know how they feel about polyamory.”

it was a new part of their lives even they were still exploring, if jj were being honest. hooking up with women at the gay bar was fun to an extent, but there was something missing. something more both women hadn’t fully talked about. when tara told them about the prospect of polyamory, both women's interest had peaked, leading them to stay up much later than they intended on a saturday night to read up on it. it had only been a few months of this new part of their relationship, and it seemed to be making it a lot easier for both emily and jj to sit down and talk about their boundaries and feelings than it had been in a long time. jj felt like she could bring problems to emily, and emily was able to get better at expressing her emotions and talking about them. it hadn’t been a long time doing the whole polyamory thing, but it did put them on the same page about one thing. they wanted to share the same partner.

emily still had hints of jealousy and commitment issues that she was working through, and jj simply didn’t feel right not letting emily in on her dates and nights with the other women. it had been customary for emily and jj to do everything together, and this wasn’t about to be any different.

“we’re technically their superiors. they’re only a supervisory agent.”

the brunette shrugged. “so we have hotch request for them to get a raise and a title change.”

“have you been thinking about this the whole time instead of reading the case file?” jj raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

“...i plead the fifth.”

“em-uh-lee”, jj enunciated the syllables of her name. “we’re supposed to be working.”

“to be fair, it's eight pm and i usually turn off work emily at seven thirty.” emily raised a manicured eyebrow at jj. “besides, what’s the point of window shopping if we’re not going to be on the same page?”

“okay but you were the one who suggested we get started on the profile before the rest of the team came.”

“you offered to stay.”

“yeah, you got me there.” jj gave emily a soft smile. “so, enlighten me. how do we go about this?”

“start flirting with them.”

“i don’t follow.”

“let’s see how they react to both of us flirting with them. and we go from there.”

jj simply nodded, trying to figure out how she would make this work. there were only so many times she got to be alone with you… she had to find more opportunities.

“i’ll ask hotch to pair me with them for this case.” jj looked to emily. “switch up the partnerships, i’m sure alvez won’t mind being paired up with someone else, maybe with you?.”

“you sure?” the blonde nodded. “alright, i’ll do it. don’t go too crazy, though.”

“that’s your job.” jj joked, smirking. “i’ll go check on pen, let me know when hotch is ready.”

“you know it.”

meanwhile, you were halfway home when you got the call to turn around and come back. after stopping for some chinese, you made your way back to quantico to meet up with the rest of the team. you hoped that the offering of crab rangoons you got satisfied not only your hunger, but the subtle disappointment that you know everyone would be showing due to being called in an hour after leaving. making your way straight to the round table room, you shot luke a smile as he grabbed his tablet from where he left it charging on his desk an hour prior. stifling a yawn, you placed your peace offering on the table before settling into a seat next to jj, your head falling onto her shoulder as you felt your eyes flutter shut.

“hey sunshine,” jj’s voice roused you from your half slumber. “you okay?”

“mmm… sleepy.”

“did you eat before coming back?”

“i had chinese.” you hummed. “bought rangoons for everyone.”

“do you want me to go get you a redbull?”

you started to nod, then froze as jj started to rise. “no, stay. you’re a good pillow.”

jj shot a quick text to emily to grab you a redbull from the vending machine before coming over to the round table room, doing her best to keep you awake. she knew you only got chinese when you planned on going straight to bed after eating dinner, which made sense since the case you all had just finished had taken a toll on everyone. the team all looked worse for wear as they filed in, some chuckling at the sight of you half asleep on jj’s shoulder as she talked to you in an effort to keep you awake. as long as you could make it to the jet, you’d be fine. the breifing was short, since the maryland pd requested the bau to come as soon as possible, which was how you found yourself once again curled up into jj’s side in the back of a fbi sanctioned van, wrapped around her arm.

thankfully, emily and tara were the other two in the vehicle with you, since everyone else was able to pile into the other car without a problem. it was a blessing and a curse, seeing as tara had been the one to originate the polyamory conversation. however, she had no clue it was you that the older women had their eyes on. emily caught her glancing at you curled up with jj a handful of times during the ride, but shot her a look when she was about to say something. once at the jet, jj’s hand stroked your hair a few times to rouse you from your half-assed slumber to get you out of the car. in your sleepiness, you clutched to jj’s arm, not wanting to let her go. jj shot a smile to emily, knowing their plan was working.

“come on, babe, let’s get you into the jet.”

she shook her head quickly and climbed up the stairs after you two, putting her and jj’s go bags with everyone else's. she found you and jj at the four seater in the middle of the jet, wrapped around jj’s arm in the smallest ball possible with the blanket jj usually used draped over you. jj sat on her phone next to you, smirking up at emily as she sat across from them next to luke.

emily had to hold back a chuckle as she looked across the table to you two again, a smile forming as you curled up closer to jj in your sleep. you had always been a cuddler, but had never had the chance to just let go and relax in front of the team like this so nobody ever knew. nobody except for emily and jj, that is. you had fallen asleep on their couch quite a few times now, especially since their house was closer to quantico than your apartment was. they had always offered you their guest room whenever you came over, knowing that you disliked having to drive the extra thirty minutes back to your apartment when their house was only fifteen minutes away from the bau building. most of the time you would decline, however, more often than not you found yourself wanting to go over more and more.

it was a sign, you thought, to look into apartments closer to quantico.

you were roused from your sleep once again as the jet landed in maryland, but this time you felt a bit more refreshed than you did back at quantico. you stayed by jj the whole time, knowing that she had your back when it came to making sure you would get to the cars without loosing your head. you were always in a bit of a daze when you woke up, needing about ten or so minutes before you could actually get out of bed. you trusted jj to be able to guide you to the car while you woke up, considering that her hand never left yours the entire time it took you to get into the backseat. it was nice, feeling cared for. but at the same time, you didn’t know how to handle it at all.

the night faded into day as you all worked hard as you could to put the pieces together on the unsub, unintentionally staying as close to jj and emily as you could muster. there was something pulling you towards them this trip, but you couldn’t figure out what. hotch made sure you had everything you needed to work properly, including a space to decompress for when it got too much. there was only so much hustle and bustle you could endure before needing to go find somewhere quiet to sit- was it a downfall? possibly. but hotch always made sure you had that space you could go when you needed it, which was appreciated. even if you couldn’t find the words for it.

emily and jj had started fighting for your accommodations too. mainly when hotch was out and not available to talk to the local officers in your place. a majority of the time they took advantage of your meekness and unwillingness to stand up for yourself, but emily and jj had started putting a stop to that. they would make sure that nobody would treat you like shit and if they did, they ended up with both of them in their face while you hid in a corner. you didn’t know how to thank them at all, it was something you were still getting used to. but it was nice, and it made you feel loved.

you hadn’t felt loved in a long time.

the rest of the case went by smoothly and you had the guy apprehended by lunchtime on tuesday. which meant you could be back in dc by four and home by eight. it was perfect. you found yourself back with jj in the car, the two of you chatting away while you swiped at the colorful candies on your phone screen in an effort to get farther than her in the game. emily watched you two fondly from the rearview mirror, sharing a knowing look with jj. you were receptive to jj flirting with you. even if you thought it was just her being nice for now, you were accepting it and they could start moving forward with their plan.

back at quantico, the team had split up to their receptive spots to do paperwork, leaving emily and jj to sit in the round table room. you had gone to sit at your desk, but both women knew you would end up with them within the hour. jj had excused herself to go to the bathroom, leaving just emily to stare at you out the window of the room, smiling fondly once again as you bit anxiously at the top of your pen. hotch caught this out of the corner of his eye and made his way over to the round table room. emily, in her daze, barely registered hotch coming up behind her until he cleared his throat.

“fuck-!” emily placed a hand over her heart. “oh, sorry sir.”

“y/n’s pretty attached to jj right now.”

emily nodded. “they are.”

“be careful with them.” emily’s head whipped around to look at hotch. “they went through some rough stuff, and it isn’t my place to explain anything to you guys but…”

“no no, i get it. you care for them deeply.”

“and i can see you guys do too.” hotch gave emily a rare smile. “i don’t know what’s going on, and don’t need to know unless it turns into something more. but tread lightly.”

“is there anything you can tell us? just out of curiosity.”

“i know they care for you two, quite a bit. you guys are probably some of the only people that fight for them to get proper accommodations. they’re not used to handling the feelings that come with it but they appreciate it. a lot.”

with that, hotch walked back into the bullpen, leaving emily alone with her thoughts.

taglist: @jayden-prentiss @idkwhatever580 @multifandomlesbianic

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9w1ft · 6 months ago

Text

i declare

thinking about the tortured poets department the song, and the charlie puth line, and how maybe like, the act of declaring he should be a bigger artist helps place the song into the greater timeline.

because it’s a sort of weird thing to say in 2024 of an artist that’s no longer up and coming.

charlie puth got his start in youtube in the late 2000’s and released his debut single in february 2015. and leading up to that he had several EP’s and promotional singles. it made me curious, at what point might the people en masse start to pay him attention? i checked google trends and as you can see here he gets a huge jump between the 2014 and 2015 data.

(he then gets a further jump toward 2016 when he did a promo single featuring megan trainor, and then doing “see you again” with wiz khalifa. (coincidentally this song becomes one of the guest duets featured in the 1989 tour movie))

and i was looking around at articles from this time period, when i ran into this tasty morsel:

so i clicked on through

take a little ride with me

so to summarize, charlie puth had his breakout star peak over the course of roughly 2014-2016, during which he was up for an award at the 2015 MTV VMAs. he doesn’t win, and in fact, he loses out to taylor herself! later on in the article it talks about him going to an after party and hanging out with taylor selena and others. so it had me thinking, i could almost imagine taylor talking with her friends that year or that night, or even declaring to charlie himself in the wake of his loss and her win, in a giddy manner, at the party they are reported as having talked at, that he deserves more success than he gets. in this way i came to the conclusion that the timeframe of 2015-ish (rather than 2023) really fits the spirit of the lyric “we declared charlie puth should be a bigger artist”

and

yes.

yes fam.

the 2015 vmas was that vma’s.

that vmas.

let me pull quote an excerpt from the billboard article as i included above, just to emphasize:

4:40 PM: Charlie has the good fortune to walk the carpet in the wake of Taylor Swift’s gaggle of supermodel friends, including “Bad Blood” star Karlie Kloss, leading photographers to alternately yell “Charlie! Karlie! Charlie! Karlie!” as if it were a hectic version of Name Game. While on the carpet, Puth chats with multiple news outlets, and later he says of the dealing with the paparazzi, “It’s amazing that we view people in unnatural states and just love it. I don’t really understand it — it just makes me very uncomfortable. But, whatever. I’m so appreciative to be here.”

such a fun convergence of events, don’t ya think?

and just a few extra points i thought i’d add:

first, i don’t know how many of you remember how taylor was behaving that evening, but don’t you think she was giving major golden retriever energy??

both in how she was chasing after karlie that night,

and also… call me crazy but, her hairstyle??

(also she’s in a houndstooth print, har har)

and i can kind of envision this taylor, who brought the whole bad blood music video crew as her entourage, having more than several bars of chocolate at hand for everyone that night, but ending up eating them all herself 😆

and another thing that helps tie the song to this time period (maybe some of you have guessed?) the line “who else decodes you?” is extra apt because… *da da-da daaaaa*

🤗 karlie had just embarked on her coding journey!

on a more solemn note? i don’t think it requires too much of a stretch of the imagination to see “but you awaken with dread” “i chose this cyclone with you” among other lines pointing to the new layer of stress taylor probably was harboring around being with karlie in public. because this is all taking place in the year directly following kissgate 🥺

so there you have it folks! this is why the tortured poets department is a kaylor song to me 😌

#kaylor #some extra stuff in the reblogs 😌

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sunraies · 2 years ago

Note

hiiii can u do rafe x reader? she is really shy and a very nice person and maybe she is jj twin and one day she is just browsing on a second habd bookstore cause obvi she cant afford to buy books all the time and rafe sees her there cause he took weezy there and he buys the books that she looked more interested at and later he approaches her and jj all protective

idk where i want it to go🤣 u can be tyr judge

thank uuuu

This is so cute! I hope this does the request justice. x

Second-Hand Books

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings - Fluff, protective JJ, Reader is JJ's sister, but no description given. Hints of Luke being a shit dad.

As requested above

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You loved the second-hand bookstore in Kildare. It sometimes felt like a second home. Its name and sign was by no means magical "Secondhand Books" written in cursive golden letters, but the atmosphere was.

The old converted shop was a treasure trove of wonders, tucked away in a little side alley. It smelt like an old library with its shelves filled with countless stories and adventures waiting to be picked up and read. There were plants dotted all around, and even ivy tangled amongst the fairy lights on the ceiling.

Mixed matched lamps, tables, and plush armchairs were scattered around. If you caught Ms. Peggy, on a good day, she would let you sit and read until closing. The old lady enjoyed your company, often making you tea and giving you cookies.

You returned the favour by helping clean, unbox shipments, and take orders. You never accepted a penny from her, even if it was desperately needed it.

"Wheeze, why are we here?" You knew that voice as it carried through the aisles. "The store up the road has brand new books, not these dusty, old shit ones."

"They aren't dusty. Some are old. But none are shit." the youngest Cameron's voice protested. "I like it here. Plus, there is no chance of finding first editions of classics in that one"

"Just look online." Rafe sighed as you peaked around the corner.

He stood close to the door, which bell had jingled as they entered, with his hands stuffed in his shorts pockets. The backwards baseball cup gave him a boyish charm as his sunglasses were tucked into the collar of his pink tee.

He looked a little out of place, but only by his uninterested expression. Rafe Cameron would most likely fit in anywhere if he wasn't jugding his surroundings.

Wheezie, on the other hand, had a smile so bright as she practically skipped into the store. "There is no fun in that. You can't smell the books"

"You're a weird kid, Wheeze." Rafe shook his head, but you caught the small smile as he watched his baby sister happily search the shelves.

"Shut up and help look for Little Women." Wheezie called over her shoulder. "Make sure it's first edition"

You were shocked as Rafe chuckled and held up his hands before helping Wheezie look. He checked the higher shelves that she was unable to reach.

One problem with Ms. Peggy was her store had no order to it. You had offered to organise and arrange in alphabetical order, but she claimed it took away the magic of finding the perfect book.

"Here." You smiled as you approached Wheezie. Rafe had given up looking about 20 minutes ago and was slumped in an armchair, scrolling on his phone. "It's not a first edition, but the cover is beautiful."

"Oh. It's beautiful!" Wheeze smiled, taking the book and admiring the cover. "It's ok, I just said that, so it would give me more time in here." she whispered, making you laugh.

Your laugh caught Rafe’s attention as he quickly glanced up from his phone. His eyes looked you up and down.

Damn, how did you look so beautiful. He was sure he'd seen the crop top you were wearing on Kie before, but it looked so much better on you. He loved the way your shorts hugged your ass and waist. He even smiled a little at the shell anklet at the top of your greyish white Converse.

"You find it?" He asked, having shook the thoughts from his mind and tucking his phone into his back pocket.

"Yeah, Miss Maybank helped me," Wheezie smiled, remembering her manners, even if you were the same age as Sarah. "But I wanna look around some more."

Rafe sighed and rolled his eyes at her pleading look. "Alright, fine. One hour, and then we gotta go."

As Wheezie bounced around the store, he flopped back into the chair, even picking up a book from the table and glancing at it.

What you didn't realise was that as you looked away, he would glance over the top of the book every so often and watched as you moved around the store. He noticed that you would read the back of a book, flick to the first page before smiling and tucking under your arm if you like it.

"Just the one, Ms Peg." You smiled at the old lady behind the till before digging into your old, tattered, looking tote bag and pulling out your purse.

"I can put the others to the side for you, dear." She offered as you had walked up to the till with a pile of five.

"It's ok. If they are gone by next week, then it wasn't meant to be." You said as handed her the cash.

You didn't know why you even admitted to buying all five as you should have known your card would bounce. Maybe this time, you had just been hoping that Luke, your father, hadn't run up the credit bill.

You wished a goodbye to Wheezie as she walked up the counter with a pile of books and even gave Rafe a smile and wave as you left the store.

*-*-*-*

The sound of a dirt bike coming up the road broke you out of the world you were emersied in. You had been reading your new book on the creaky old porch swing on the porch outside. Enjoying the evening coolish before sunset.

At first, you thought it was JJ coming home, but then you realised he'd come home an hour ago with John B and Pope. You could hear them laughing in the house.

"JJ?!" You called into the window open as you stood up, placing your book on your blanket. "Are you guys expecting anyone?"

You were a little nervous as unplanned visits from people not in the Twinkie or Kie's car normally meant your father or JJ had caused trouble.

The rider stopped a few feet away, and your eyes widened in shock as Rafe Cameron removed his helmet. His hair tousled from the helmet and his cheeks little pink.

"Rafe?" You frowned and hugged your hoodie around your body as you hid your hands in your sleeves.

He looked a little unsure of himself as he walked over to you, a cotton tote bag in his hand. "These are for you." He held the bag out to you as he glanced around, not looking at you directly.

You took the bag, completely confused before gasping as you looked inside. It was the books you had to leave at the store.

Before you even had a chance to question it or say thank you, the screen door burst open as JJ came flying out "What the fuck are you doing here, Kook?"

You tried to pull him back as he got right in Rafe’s face "Jayj. Stop"

JJ looked between you and Rafe "What the fuck did he say to you?" He asked you before turning to Rafe again "What'd you say?"

"What's it to you, Pogue" Rafe looked like he was trying to hold back his anger but with JJ right in his personal space it was hard.

"Stay away from my sister, pretty boy" JJ pushed Rafe a little "Get the fuck outta here"

John B and Pope appeared in the doorway but before they could back up JJ, you got between the two that were squaring up to each other.

You stood with your back to Rafe as you spoke to JJ but could feel him breathing heavily behind you.

"Jayj. Go back inside" You sighed and got annoyed as he stared at Rafe over your head "JJ, go the fuck back inside. I will call if I need you"

It took you actually pushing JJ a little for him to snap out of it. He looked at you before nodding "He tries anything. We beat him. He's on our terf now"

You rolled your eyes "I'm sure, he won't. But sure, you boys can protect your territory if needed"

You knew Rafe was taking a risk being in The Cut, especially after the stunt he pulled the other week. You knew why the boys were bitter as you hadn't been too happy either after finding out he'd jumped Pope at the Country Club.

You watched JJ walk backwards and stand on the porch with the others. You sighed before turning to face Rafe.

"I can't take these." You held the bag out to him, but he stook his head.

"They're yours," He said, rubbing the neck of his neck. He seemed nervous and not because of the boys glaring at him from the porch. "Bin them, read them, do whatever you want with them."

You looked in the bag again before smiling. "Thank you, Rafe." You smiled at him.

"I better go." He sighed after nodding at your thanks. He looked like he wanted to say more but walked back to his bike

"Bye," JJ yelled. "Don't come back. The Cu- Ow!" You cut him off as you shoved into his shoulder

"You guys are fucking unbelievable" You muttered walking into the house, leaving them looking offerened at each other.

As you sat on your bed, you pulled the books out of the bag before finding a note, tucked into one of them. Your heart fluttered as you read it.

'I would buy you all the books in the world, just to see that smile - R'

#rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #outerbanks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #outerbanks fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fic

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