#sorry this wasn’t meant to be such a silly answer but thinking about his thought process for that is so SURHSKNFLDOF

[theloveinc]

mm kirishima tries stuffing his balls inside puppygirl!reader as a makeshift knot :(

He is … so stupid!!!!!!

So caught up in your mewling for him that he totally forgets puppygirls need a lil extra just to get them to the end. You’re begging and pleading from underneath with your cute, dark eyes, asking for it— pleasepleaseplease, Eiji, please!!!

And it’s not like he’s a virgin but he’s only been with human girls and boys before and has always been so damn fumbly w/ them….… being with you is the first time he’s really felt like a man and he doesn’t want to disappoint you so he just… tries… since he knows you can take it and…

…then you feel his chubby finger wiggling around in your puss trying to get his balls to sit right and it’s just… lmfaoooooooooooo…

(It gets you off but it’s not as good for you as it is for him, and you end up grumpy and he’s SO sorry because you deserve everything he has to offer and more, and next time he doesn’t know what he’s gonna do and, and, and—)

[sailorholly]

Between Us Pt 5

Summary: You and Spencer had a casual relationship. A misunderstanding ruins it all.

Pairing: Spencer Reid × F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Friends with benefits. Angst. Pregnancy.

See my Masterlist Here

Part 4

“Pregnant? How did this happen? I mean, I know how it happened but - Wow!” He runs over to you, placing one large had on your nonexistent bump. “I can’t believe we are pregnant. How far along are we?” Anger and disbelief surge through you.

“First of all, I am pregnant. Me, not you.” Spencer’s smile drops, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” You sigh, this was a better reaction than you were expecting. You thought he would freak out. Although, you aren’t sure why. Spencer loves kids. He was never mean to you before. He wasn’t like the guys you normally dated.

“No, I’m sorry. These hormones are ridiculous. I know what you meant. And to answer your other question, the doctor said about six weeks. But, that was over a week ago. I’m probably almost eight weeks now. I have an ultrasound scheduled for the end of the week if you would like to come with me.” He looks hopeful, nodding his head as his smile widens. “Of course I would love to go. This is great. I gotta call my mom. I’ll clean out my spare bedroom so we can turn it into a nursery. I’ll need help moving some of my things into storage so we will have room for your stuff too. Maybe Morgan will help.”

“Wait, my stuff?” You ask, interrupting his rambling. “Yeah, you’ll be bringing your stuff too. You can put what we don’t have room for in storage with my things.” You cross your arms, preparing to argue. “Why would I bring my stuff to your place?” Spencer scrunches up his nose, “Because you’ll be living there?” He looks just as confused as you are.

“I’m not moving in with you, Spencer. Your spare bedroom is too small for me and the baby. There’s not enough room. Plus, you don’t need me there with our baby. That would be so hard to explain when you bring women home.” You mentioned other women because you were fairly certain his relationship with Ashley wouldn’t last. You place your hands on your hips, trying to understand his silly logic.

“I thought you could sleep with me, and the baby would have their own room. Why would I bring women home when I’m dating you?” Your eyes feel like they are going to pop out of your head. “Spencer, we aren’t dating.”

“But, I thought we would be a family now that you’re pregnant.” He explains. “We will be a family, but one that coparents. You’re going to be a great dad, Spence. I would never keep your baby from you. But, this doesn’t change anything between us. You didn’t want me before, and I don’t like that you only want me now because you got me pregnant.”

“But that’s not why I-“ “I don’t want to argue about this. We are really good friends and I would like it to stay that way for the baby.” “Okay.” He agrees, but you can tell you hurt his feelings, so you change the subject to what you will need for the baby.

You make a list, putting double the items down since Spencer will keep them at his apartment too. He’s going to ask for a leave for the first two months after the baby is born so he doesn’t miss anything. He will be staying at your apartment during those months. When he’s comfortable enough to have the baby alone, you will work out a new schedule.

Spencer orders some parenting books for the both of you online. He is so excited. You’re thankful that he’s the father, he’s a great guy. You just wish it could have worked between the two of you. “How are you going to tell Ashley? I don’t think it will go well.” You tell him, scrunching your face up. His face falls, “I forgot about Ashley.”

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @comboboo @134340ona @wannabewolf @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lover-of-books-and-tea @maybe-not-this @drewsandsebastianswife @lamentis-10 @lizzyk137 @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @rosylnsworld @amortencjja @ah-blossom @dreamsarebig @khxna @diasnohibng @nommingonfood @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @isakslilsmile @lavvylove @creaming4daddy @justdianaz @aubs444 @im-this-girl @xblueriddlex @spencerreidsgf420 @witchsbitchestime @lovelyygirl8 @chonkybonky @prentissesredtanktop

[auras-moonstone]

OMG CAN YOU WRITE A ETHAN LANDRY BASED OFF WILLOW PLS 🙏🙏 I LOVE UR WORK SM

i was writing invisible string when i got your request and i thought i could combine both songs! hope you don’t mind <3

invisible string — ethan landry

word count: 1,696

pairing: slytherin!ethan landry x ravenclaw!fem!reader

summary: ethan, who does not believe in soulmates, meets y/n, a hopeless romantic who is obsessed with the subject and makes him change his mind. later, they find out that all along there was an invisible string tying them to each other.

warnings: none, just fluff <3 it’s a hogwarts au but you don’t have to had watched harry potter to understand.

EVEN IN THE WIZARDING WORLD, SOULMATES WERE EXTREMELY RARE. Very few wizards were lucky enough to have a person that was quite literally meant for them. The amount of people who claimed had found their soulmates could be counted with one hand.

Being the hopeless romantic that she was, Y/N had always been obsessed with the concept of soulmates. She had read every single book about the topic, and her fascination never ceased.

Legend has it, if you had been blessed by Merlin with a soulmate, their initials would appear on your wrists when you turned 18—the legal age for wizards—, and if you happened to be near your soulmate, the thread that tied you to them would stop being invisible and would show its golden colour. No one but the two parts involved would be able to see it, so that’s why some wizards—the majority of them—didn’t fully believe soulmates existed.

Ethan Landry was part of the sceptic’s group. The wizarding civilisation was enormous, and only less than five people had found their soulmate? He called bluff. They were just trying to get some attention. Besides, the entire concept felt really silly to him.

“Do you mind if I sit here? It's the only corner where the sun doesn't hit” a sweet voice interrupted his study session. Ethan raised his head and his heart threatened to leave his chest when he came across two beautiful bright eyes and an adorable shy smile.

“Sure, no problem.” the Slytherin smiled at the Ravenclaw. That’s the most perfect smile I’ve ever seen, Y/N thought as she sat across from him.

That morning the sun was shining brightly and the temperature was perfect—neither hot nor cold—, so Y/N decided to read at her usual spot next to the Black Lake. With a content smile, she opened her favourite book and started her daily reading as she twirled her fingers around the green grass below her.

Ethan’s curious eyes took in the book cover and couldn’t help but chuckle as he read the title: The tale of the four soulmates.

Y/N looked up from her book and frowned at him. “Share the joke so we can laugh together.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just… do you read it for pure entertainment, or do you actually believe in soulmates?” he asked, scrunching his nose. And if he didn’t look so insulted by her beliefs, she would’ve thought it was a cute action.

“I do believe in them.” she answered, this time more politely.

“Why?”

“I don’t really have a certain reason. Isn’t it just so pretty to think that all along there was an invisible string tying you to your person?”

He wanted to scream ‘No, it isn’t!’, but he couldn’t, not when her entire being lit up as she talked about it. He wasn’t a monster, he couldn’t be rude to someone just because they thought differently.

“I guess it is… pretty, but I still don’t believe it. There hasn’t been any proof besides doubtful testimonies.” Ethan shrugged.

“That’s fair.” she said. “But, I mean, if you think about it, muggles think wizards exist sorely on movies and books. And yet, here we are. Why is it so hard for people to believe soulmates exist too?”

“You have a point. Unfortunately, I won’t believe it until I see it.”

“You won’t be able to see it, unless you have one.”

“I guess if it happens to someone I trust, I would believe their word.” Ethan said.

“I hope it happens. And when it does, remember when you laughed at the poor girl who sat by you next to the Black Lake.”

Ethan laughed, and it was the best sound Y/N had ever heard. “If it happens, I’ll look for you and apologise. How does that sound?.”

“Looking forward to it.” she smiled. “What’s your name, sceptic?”

The boy opened his mouth to reply when Chad, his best friend, strode towards him and grabbed him by the arm. “Snape is looking for you, and he seemed pretty angry.”

Ethan threw an apologetic glance at the girl. “See you are around, mystical girl.”

The girl rolled her eyes playfully “See you around, sceptic.”

NEITHER OF THE TWO TEENAGERS COULD STOP BUMPING INTO EACH OTHER SINCE THAT SHORT ENCOUNTER. If they hadn’t been so consumed by the electric spark that took over their bodies everytime they saw each other, they would’ve realized that maybe it wasn’t coincidental at all—it was their string pulling them together, because the time of the revelation was getting close and the tie grew stronger with the passing of days.

Ethan had already turned 18, and the unexpected happened—two initials appeared on the inside of his wrist. Y/N/I Y/L/N/I. There were lots of people with those initials, how the hell was he supposed to figure it out? He wished he could talk to that girl, the one who was constantly trying to change his mind about soulmates, but sadly they were on winter holidays.

Every encounter they had, she would tell him one fact about soulmates. And truth was, the more she said, the less he knew how to keep his sceptic mind. Her words had cut through him like a knife. And now that he had proof, there was nothing left to doubt. He couldn't wait to go back to Hogwarts and spill everything, but he also couldn't help feeling a bit disheartened about it. Ethan had taken a liking towards the girl, and he couldn't see himself getting to know anyone else but her.

He didn't know why, but his thoughts always bent towards her. He couldn't help it, it was like being lost in a current he could not free himself from.

Y/N's feelings weren't different from his at all. It was exhausting. Everytime she laid her head on the pillow, she could feel him sneaking in. And it weren't just dreams about him, her mind wondered about him throughout her whole day, and it bothered her a little. Firstly, because she didn't even know his name. And second, she just found out she had a soulmate.

"Mom, I'm going to go for a walk." Y/N yelled as she grabbed her coat.

As she strolled down the lighted up narrow street that was filled with dive bars, she thought about the revelation. It was supposed to be the happiest moment of her life. She had been waiting for her 18th birthday for years, but now she wished she hadn't been blessed with a soulmate. The prospect of finding them wasn’t so exciting anymore, and it was all because of that sceptic, brunet boy with wide eyes and radiant smile.

Y/N lowered her gaze down to her wrist and traced her fingers over the initials. E. L. "Will I ever find you?" and as she voiced the thought, she felt a pull on her body that made her come to a stop. She looked around the isolated street, but she didn't find anything. And then, she saw a flicker of gold in her periphery.

Her heart trumped as she followed the trail of the golden string. It came out of her wrist and it was guiding her towards a dive bar. This was it, her soulmate was there. Before she knew it, she was opening the door of the small bar illuminated by neon lights.

Her soulmate was staring right at her, and he wore the same appalled expression as her. Like compasses, their feet dragged them towards each other, meeting in the middle. Of course it was him, she thought, it had always been him.

“Hi, sceptic boy. What a turn of events, right?” she smiled at him. She was static, clouded by happiness.

“The best plot twist to ever exist.” Ethan mirrored her smile. “I guess, now in handsight, it was pretty obvious, right?”

Y/N let out a laugh as she nodded “So many clues we didn’t see.”

Ethan felt his chest might explode from happiness as he look down at their hands. The golden string was sparkling almost as much as the soulmates, who couldn’t get over the discovery. “I can’t believe this is happening. I’m so glad it’s you.”

“Me too.” she whispered, jointing their hands. Warmth spread through their bodies, and Ethan wrapped her in his arms.

“You wrecked my plans.” he said with a laugh, as he guided her to the stools. Y/N frowned in confusion, so he continued. “I was planning to wallow in sadness.”

“Why? What happened?” she asked worriedly. Ethan smiled at that, and then extended his right hand, showing her the initials. The girl’s eyes filled with sadness. “You didn’t want a soulmate?”

“Not if it wasn’t you.”

Y/N sighed in relief, pinching his ribs. “You scared me, asshole.” he laughed and muttered an apology. “By the way, we never exchanged names.”

“I’m Ethan Landry, ex-sceptic.” he winked at her.

“Y/N Y/L/N, and you, sir, owe me an apology.”

He stood up, putting his hands on her waist. She was sitting on the tall stool, making them be at the same height. “I’m really sorry for laughing at you.”

“Mmm… I don’t know if I should forgive you. Soulmates had always been a big deal to me.” she said playfully, fixing the already fixed collar of his shirt.

“Maybe I can bribe you?” he smirked, his hands trailed slowly from her waist to the back of her neck. “I’ve been told I’m a great kisser.”

Y/N frowned. “I don’t wanna know what your exes say about you” not to be toxic, but picturing him with other girls made her want to throw up.

“You’re so cute.” he laughed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. But I want you to know that ever since I met you, I have been all about you. No one else.”

“Good.” she said with a sufficient smile.

“You stink with jealousy.” he scrunch his nose in a teasing manner.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Shut up and kiss me, asshole.”

Ethan laughed and pulled her into a soft and magical kiss. “I’m in heaven.” he muttered between kisses.

“Wow, you went from aromantic to a sappy boy.”

“I know.” he sighed, acting frustrated. “I’m not ashamed though, I’m obsessed with you and I plan to show it everyday.”

“Now that sounds like heaven.”

[emsgoodthinkin]

~ never did this before | virgin!Eddie Munson x virgin! Thick!Fem Reader \\ modern au

This story is based off the song Wet Dreamz by Jcole **recommend listening to it first to understand the story// can be perceived/read regardless if you are a poc; as I am mixed ♡ [descriptions of reader having tan skin and brown eyes; so it meets in the middle if you are a poc or not]

• Summary: after weeks of flirting and crushing on each other, you finally pop a serious question into your bestfriend Eddie’s head, and he has a hard time providing you with an honest answer // this is more like a rom com

• Warnings: MDNI; smut (not too explicitly) fluff, both kinda experienced? soft Eddie, cocky Eddie, sassy reader, brief mentions of smoking and drinking, he’s a little bit of a perv, masturbation, 69, protected piv, premature ejaculation, heavy petting, grinding, confessions, slight insecure thoughts? (both are 18+) word count :3.4k //sry 4 errors

Eddie’s Pov

Calculus. The last class of the day. My favorite class overall.

There she sat, giggling on her phone, showing me silly photos she took of her dog Skittle, the sun shining just right on her honey toned tanned skin, hair laying just as perfect as ever in that simple, claw clip. Curls and wavy bangs sectioned to shape her face, brown eyes that matched mine and oh those glossy lips..

I wanna kiss you so fucking bad baby.

Her outfit of the day, that new pink and black checkered shirt she got at the mall that I drove her to.

It’s so tight on you sweetheart, your tits look beautiful today.

White Reeboks as I have, but very much cleaner…

Those 100% perfectly stretchy, acid wash jeans you wear every week that fit your ass so fucking bad.. fuck don’t bend over.. don’t—

“Eddie? what’s wrong with you?”

Fuck— didn’t realize the moan that I slipped out when she dropped her phone, she cracked it..but all I could focus on were the back of her thighs when she bent over

“Sorry uh- I think I’m just sore from carrying those amps last night”, he says now rubbing his not sore bicep with a pout

Lie.

“Oh babe I’m sorry, come by later and I can rub it out for you” she replies

Why the fuck would you say that to me right now—

“Oh yeah? You’d just love to get your hands on me always huh sweetheart? ” leaning back in my seat, with a cocky smile

You blush and shove my arm playfully “you’re so stupid, you know what I meant”

——

She’s been like this for the past month, after Harringtons party. Smoking and drinking under that patio umbrella, away from everyone else. Laughing, holding on to each other for dear life. I tell her jokes, she ugly laughs. I love her laugh, it’s not fake it’s genuine like her.

We met at the drink table, both preferring whiskey over the red shit they put out.

We talked about our intrests, I was very suprised and impressed with how she carried herself. How she talked about herself. How she sat comfortably on my lap; as if we knew each other for forever.

Obviously her thick hips in that royal blue, tacky dress she wore caught my attention first

It takes a certain kinda person to make me laugh but she.. she was probably the most funniest and beautiful fucking girl I’ve never seen. A few beauty marks as she would call it, scattered down her neck and arms. Eyelashes so dark she could always pass on the mascara, the sweet charm and sass she had to her.. she was something different.

She was fresh to town and it was relief to meet someone new. Similar childhood experiences, divorced parents but her dad stopped reaching out to them. Her mom was just a bitch to her. Very narcissistic person but, she had her kind moments. She definitely wasn’t the worse mother I’ve ever heard of.

All of that lead to a heavy make out session in the bathroom.

Sitting at the edge of the toilet, her scratching the back of my head with those sharp coffin shaped nails, me squeezing the fat of her ass on my lap. Hell, I was surprised how into this she was.. considering I’ve only kissed two girls in my life.

Sure I’ve watched my fair share of porn, visited sex stores, took a few notes; even got a handy under the bleachers last year from Carol. She forgot to pay for the weed I gave her, she offered, why not.

“Oh yeah, what’s your name again?” I ask kissing down her neck

“Y/N, but you can call me anything you want right now” she whimpers at the feeling of me nipping her throat

-“fuck you’re a r-really good kisser”

“-could say the same about you sweetheart” feeling the roll of her heat over my already strained dick.

I wonder how many guys she’s done this with

“Sorry, I don’t usually do this but, there’s just something so sexy about you”—

Biggest fucking ego boot ever.

“Fuck baby, if you keep talkin to me like that I’m gonna bust”

“Awe, am I making you feel some typa way Eddie?” She smirks looking down at me

“You know you are”

—

Unfortunately that ended quicker than it started, Robin got too hungover and needed our space.

She told me her classes and we exchanged numbers.

After that we talked everyday on FaceTime after getting home from school. I show her a new guitar riff and she shows me the new necklaces or shirts she ordered.

Sometimes she’d forget she was on camera and changed out of her bra a few times.

Hey, couldn’t help but to look come on, I am just a man

I can’t tell you the amount of times I’ve fucked myself to that imagine every morning.. and evening and night..

Slept on the phone together, hung out at lunch together.

I only ever seen her at lunch other than at the end of the day in Mrs. Wilson’s calculus class. Bringing us back to now

——

“Mr. Munson are you done chatting now?” Wilson knocks me out of my trance

“Sorry bout that, yes ma’am” giving her a thumbs up sitting back up straight as she rolls her eyes subtly.

You slide me note. Folded up, in blue highlighted letters

You ever have sex before? Circle Yes or No ♡

fuck—we never even discuss stuff like that! how haven’t we? Don’t embarrass yourself man

Course I have, why? what’s got you so curious? ;)

I watch her look away quickly, gulping when she covers the paper to respond back

Well.. you’re cute and shit & was wondering if you wanna come over friday..? My parents have been gone all week and..we can hang or do whatever.. ♡

Did she wanna fuck? I hope so —wait you’re a virgin idiot, wait is she? probably not

I’m already there babe ;)

I reply with an easy smile, hiding the fact I’m in a state of panic

Good.. and uh bring those handcuffs on your wall too.. ♡

No way she’s a virgin talking like that

She rushes outta the classroom at the bell, turning back with a wink

Holy shit I gotta talk to Harrington.

“-and that’s what I’m saying dude, just sweet talk her, treat her like a princess, rub her in all the right places”—

“Okay but what ARE those places? I know her like tits and shit.. and well under her panties but what does it feel like? Ya know putting in it? What if I cum too fast and she laughs or runs away and never talks to me again..”—

I’ve been pacing back in forth in Family Video, loud where all the customers could hear. Definitely loud enough for Robin to upchuck her lunch

“No Eddie- just, come back here— Rob? watch the front please?” Steve grabs me by the shoulder making a bee line to the stock room

Sitting on the empty table still trying to gather my thoughts of Steve’s advice. “Well?” I rush out

“Damn man let me sit down first” he scoffs pulling a chair over to me

“Alright, you wanna know what inside a vagina feels like right?”

“Jesus, can you just say pussy or some shit”

“Same thing” he glared

“Okay well it’s not really sexy to just say vagina-

-“god Eddie, do you wanna know or not?” I can tell I’m testing his patience, I shut my lips, nodding eagerly

“Okay, so It’s like this- well like wet and really, really warm, almost like hot bath around your dick or a tight hug”—

“Wow, a hot bath thanks for the analogy Steve, I’ll make sure to take one when I get home”

He deadpans at me. “You asked me and I’m telling you, it’s hard to really explain other than a tight, wet warm hug. Oh!” he snaps his finger”-and sometimes it’ll tighten around your cock when she’s about to cum and holy shit dude— you better hold your load because the first time I had sex, it lasted about 10 seconds” My eyes widen

“WHAT!?” I shout before him shushing me “King Steve was a minute man?”— I joke

“Hey I said at first, when you get used to having sex your stamina gets better and for me personally”— he leans in “I can last approximately 45 minutes and 27 seconds” he sits back proudly

Cocky bastard.

Shit.

How long will I last? Will jerking off more boost my stamina?

——

Since that afternoon I did as much research as a I could, making a DIY sponge fleshlight.

That was a fail, got carpet burn.

Even bought condoms from the corner store, didnt know what size i was so, i grabbed all 4 boxes

Practicing my stroke game, using my pillow as a hole.

Down. Glide. Up. Down. Guide up.

Ow, fuck, cramp, cramp

This shits hard. My back hurts.

Throwing away the 8th used condom of the day, tossing myself in my desk chair, forehead sweaty, wrists throbbing; hearing my phone go off

FaceTime from Crush🖤

“Ah, fuck”— grabbing a shirt, wiping off the excess sweat off my skin, putting my pants back on, setting the phone up on my night stand, grabbing the guitar quickly setting it on my lap— “Hey! Sweetheart, what’s up, what are you up to?”

“I could ask you the same thing why is your face so red?” She asks giggling, laying on her tummy, tits spilling out , kicking her socked feet from behind

“Just took a hot shower is all”

“But your hairs not wet?” you give me a suspicious look, “Oh yeah, I just tied it up..sooo still want me over tomorrow?”

“Hell yeah! I picked up cookie dough the edible kind because I know you like that anddddd”- she reaches over her phone to grab something—“I rented whole stab franchise for a throwback”- showing me her laptop screen

“Well, that sounds like a party to me”

“You got that right..” She replies, biting her lip as if I didn’t notice,- “Anywaysss, just calling to remind you, see you tomorrow im tired, goodnight dummy *mwah*

She always ends our calls with a kiss on screen

Fuck I’m hard again

“Can’t wait sweetheart, sweet dreams” ending the call, looking down at my bulge

Welp, gotta jerk off again

Friday. THE day I might lose my virginity to the sexiest girl in school. My best friend.

I wake up earlier than usual, do my morning ritual, a joint. My nerves making me shower twice.

Should I shave?

Would she care?

A little trim wouldn’t hurt

May or may have not nicked my balls. Not too bad, maybe she won’t notice. Finding my nicest pair of jet black jeans I own, I only wear ‘em for special occasions and a wife beater? Nah that’s too much right? A flannel would help. Yeah. Definitely.

Hey I look kinda good, checking myself out in the mirror

Alright, wallet, keys, condoms, I glance over at the cuffs on the wall. Can’t forget those, stuffing them in my back pocket

—

My palms are sweaty, fuck even my ass is sweating.. 3 cigarettes already in, on my way to her house; of course I have a bad fucking hair day today, so I just opted for a low bun.

Before I could even knock, you open the door my jaw already on the floor

“Hi dummy!” You jump giving me a hug, pulling me inside.

What the hell is she wearing

A transparent green knitted, cropped sweater

is that her nipple I see? Those goddamn Nike shorts are doing her a favor—“Someone’s excited to see me?” Kicking off my shoes

“I’m always excited to see you.. also nice hair”

and neck goddamn, what is hell is he wearing you think, already feeling horny from the sight of my neck being so exposed

those jeans are doing his fine ass a favor

fuck I’m wet already

“Come on, already got it all set up for us”

“Lead the way princess” following behind you

I need to bite those fuckin legs.

——

We always sit like this on movie nights. Me against your headboard, back against my chest. I don’t remember how it started but I love it.

“Didn’t David Arquette also play in Spree?”

I squint back at the tv, “Uh yeah yeah he did, he was Kurt’s dad I think”

She replies with a mouthful “omyeah”

My hands have been holding both sides of her hips the whole time, occasionally rubbing them with my thumbs; every time I do it your breath picks up

Something else is about to be up—

“Huh?”

“Did you even hear me? You’ve been zoning out a lot recently”, you say sitting crisscross

“Something on your mind Ed’s?”

Gulp

“No no just— “ sigh

“Yeah, you. You’ve been on my mind.”

She smiles looking down, cocking her head to the side

“Oh yeah? Been thinking about me have you?” She grins

“You have no idea. ”

My breath hitches when you straddle me

Fuck me

“Wanna tell me these thoughts you’ve been having?” she asks twirling a piece of my bang

Remember what Steve said, sweet talk her

“Why don’t I just show you pretty girl”

Her smirk instantly falls, cheeks crimson “shit.. okay”

Running my hand up your thighs firmly, wrapping my arm around your lower back, my free hand pulling your face closer into my lips. “Like that baby?”

Who the fuck are you she thinks

“Fuck, yeah kiss me again”, I stare blankly until my eyes turn to pure lust, pushing her down to her back climbing on top to ease my tongue back into her mouth, my hips grinding into yours, hearing you whimper…

You’d think that’d make me harder but it’s when you grind back into me that did it

“You’re so beautiful you know that baby?.. fuck been missing these lips for weeks..”

“Shit, me too, been needing you so close to my body recently it’s been killin me,” she whines, rubbing her hands down my chest

—“that’s why I asked you to come over, could tell you were feeling me too”

You’re right about that, I mumble sucking your neck,

I’ve practiced giving myself hickies on my arms freshmen year.

Eddie, score

“That tank top Eddie.. t-take off the flannel let me see you? Please?” You ask giving me doe eyes. I sit up eagerly throwing it about, she sits up on her elbows, throwing off her sweater

The goddamn groan I let out

Jesus Christ

You lie back down bashfully covering yourself

A whore being shy huh?

“Whattt? She asks feeling self conscious,

“You’re..fuck.. just let me get a closer look please?” I plead, you nod shyly

Squeezing your breasts hard in my palm, licking my lips, nipping them, kissing them, hearing you gasp “holy shit -

“What??”

I do it again, in combination with my tongue, She doesn’t stop me she moans, making me feel bolder, “ Lemme take these off?” My thumbs already ready to yank your shorts down

You don’t answer

“Hey, it’s just me you know you’re beautiful to me, right?”

“Yes..you can take em off” she whispers

Thinking it’d be hot to yank them down quick like those sex movies

I try it..

“Ow! Fuck what the hell?” She jerks

I didn’t know she had the goddamn drawstring tied. , “Ow..you pout rubbing your hip, “Shit I’m sorry! I’m sorry”

I’m already fucking up, “It’s okay.. it’s just tied” she says undoing them pulling them off herself, holding her hands in her lap

I lean down to kiss both hips as an apology, looking up at you slowly undoing your hands

Cute little hair she has

“Can I um..”

She looks down at me gaining back her confidence, “You wanna eat me don’t you?” My eyes widen, gripping her side, “Yesss.. really bad” but I don’t know how to —

“Can I see you too?” again with that lip bite

“Of course” okay.. here goes nothing whispering to myself , yanking my jeans and all down in one swift motion, staring at the spot on the ceiling

You scoff with the sour look, “Oh my god”

WHAT WHAT WHAT

“You’re packing Eddie”

“Oh..thank fuck, really? I wouldn’t say that but..” I sit back in front of her

“Can I touch it?” You ask still staring at my cock

-..But I wanna taste you.. what if we..you lay on me but backwards..? Like 69?” I recommend

She nods eagerly, nervously but very excited, “Okay.. just don’t look at my asshole.. there’s a spot on it that looks like I didn’t wipe but it’s not what you think! It’s a freckle..”, I chuckle, rubbing your cheek nodding

Laying down flat, you swing your legs over my face

Oh god fuck, “Such a pretty pussy” i mumble

Suck a pretty cock you think

You’re both horny as fuck, both licking on each other immediately —“Jesus fuck!” I shout, hearing and feeling you choke on my dick

“Y/n, y-you done this before?”

“Yeah—“

Damnit.

-“But it was with a guy at my old school, said I was the best head he ever had” , you say rubbing my balls

Hot.

Okay Eddie do what feels right

so that’s the clit? how cute

Bringing my lips around your nub, licking you, tasting you, “Oh god why do you taste so good, you smell so..sweet?”

“Was that a question?” You ask popping my dick outta your mouth

“No, no just the sweetest pussy I’ve never tasted”-

the only pussy I’ve ever tasted

I’ve never smelt anything like this, I think I’m addicted

Flicking my tongue a few time feeling you react in a high pitched moan, sucking and massaging it lightly, my eyes flutter spotting your ass hole winking at me

“Holy shit” she’s pretty everywhere

“What?”

“You have such a pretty ass” blurting out

“Eddie! I told you not to look!” She whines trying to climb off, “Shut up I do what I want”saying firmly, pulling you back down by your thighs; sticking my pointer finger in your cunt,

so that’s the squeeze Steve was talking about

“Ohmyg— fuckk yes please” she vibrates around me, a guttural moan purging from my throat, curling my finger like they said —

“Oh! Fuck yes keep doing that Eddie baby please”—

“I am, I am baby you just suck my dick”—

Holy shit who am I—

“-Eddie I think I’m gonna cum yep, I’m gonna cum..”—

“Wait really?”

“Yes!”

“Really?” Asking again “YES EDDIE SHUT UP AND KEEP GOING, FUCK”—

Thrusting faster, licking faster I feel your wetness roll down and down into my mouth instantly making me cum in yours

“Fuck baby like that, fuck did you..just swallow?—“ I ask but you proceed to keep sucking-“OKAY OKAY, stop, s-shit!”

Pleading trying to stop you from overstimulating me further, “Shit.. sweetheart, that dude was right, that was the best head I’ve ever got”

The only head I’ve ever got

She lays back down beside me with a large grin,” Was that your first time getting head? You came so fast for me”

Lie.

Not replying I get up, finding the condom in my Jean pocket, “What’re ya doing?” You ask with a questioned expression, “Condom?” I hold up “Oh, oh yeah yeah right duh”—

Fuck I forgot with which way it goes on— got it

Turning back to you, cock still hard, nudging your core

You give me a small smile, watching me hesitantly about to slip my tip in

“Wait! Wait!”-

“What? Sorry, I didn’t ask”—

“Eddie I need to tell you something..”

“Yeah?”

“I can tell you definitely know what you’re doing but I just.. be gentle because I’ve never done this before..”

never done this before, never done this before

I stare like a deer in headlights, the weight off my shoulders lifted. I laugh sarcastically to myself , “That’s, well.. I should probably tell you I’ve never done it either.. like ima”—

“Virgin too?”

“Yeah, surprise?” feeling embarrassed, “How did I not know that? We tell each other everything” shrugging, “Not sure, but I’m glad you told me before I stuck ya”

“Ew don’t say stuck me weirdo”

“Look, I don’t know what I’m doing at all, I had to ask Steve for advice.. I figured you would know more I mean since you wanted my handcuffs”-, you bite your lip, head shaking

“I said that because, I figured you’d know how to use em”

“There actually just for decoration sweetheart, looked kinda metal”, we laugh in awe with each other , “But here we are..” I say biting the skin on my lip—

“Yeah here we are” you look back up at me, hopeful, “Do you wanna stop?”

“No..do you wanna stop?”

“Nah, been hoping you’d be my first actually”, you blush at my statement pulling me down for a deep kiss , “Let’s do it..”

“..but what if I cum too fast? that would be humiliating”—

- “I understand how it works.. don’t feel bad if you do, I promise I won’t laugh Ed’s” she squeezes my hand lovingly

My heart is erect

I nod, looking over all of you again, spreading your thighs a little wider, “I’ll go slow”

Furrowing my brows in consentration, slipping my tip in, surprisingly not easy mother fuck—

“Holy fuck you’re so-

“Tight? I know I have a hard time fingering my self as is”

“Why would you tell me that at this very second,” I try not to laugh, holding my shit together, “that’s so hot by the way,” bottoming you out, we gasp in sync

“Oh god”-

“What?”

“Holy god”—

“What!?? You alright?” She asks , “I’m about to cum already”—

“I told you, it’s okay”

“I know but that’s so embarrassing”

You clench around me on purpose, suddenly your eyes widen, feeling a warmth from inside, while also hearing me grunt almost in pain above you

Silence.

“Im so sorry fuck,” pulling out, shocked at how full my condom is, “Did you cum?”, she scrunches her nose, “No silly”

“But you squeezed me?”

“Yeah but, I didn’t have an orgasm”

Fucking Steve

-“But Steve said when a girl cums she clenchs around us” explaining further—

“First off, I’m gonna need you to not take advice from Steve and second, I mean according to my girlfriends we do.. it’s like a few squeezes but apparently we really squeeze for a long time when we do cum? Maybe even shake? I’m not sure but I think I’d know when I felt it”

Well shit

He looks like a sad puppy this won’t do you think

“But hey, we can try again right? Don’t be embarrassed if anything it’s kinda hot”

“Really?”

“I mean yeah, I made you cum in under like 1 second, biggest ego boot ever” you lighten the mood, nudging my shoulder smiling at me, pulling me for another kiss, “Don’t ever tell anyone that” holding my forehead to yours

You smirk, holding your pinky up “I promise”, Interlocking mine, noticing your body shifted closer, staring at your lips, “Let me try again Sweetheart” your eyes also on mine, nodding, crawling back to you, chasing your touch, taking each others breath—

Was that a car door??

“Is someone here?”

“Honey we’re home!”

FUCK, not now!!

(again recommend you listen to Wet dreamz by Jcole; it’s a bop)

reblogs appreciated // this was fun. let me know your thoughts? I do realize the smut was kinda rushed? Should there be a part 2? Suggestions? Comments? Feel like I should have kept going for them to restart again but I dunno🤷🏽‍♀️

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi!! Can i request a hurt/comfort hotch x reader?

Reader is starting to feel lonely in the relationship cause for the past 2 months hotch has only been home for a week total and she really misses him. They haven’t had time to themselves cause even when hotch is in virginia he’s in the office and him getting called out on a case during his day off happens more often than the both of them want to. and even when they text and call it’s not the same.

anyway hotch comes home in the middle of the night after a case and he just finds reader on the sofa crying cause she just really misses her boyfriend and the two of them finally talk about it.

You have permission to break my heart with the angst and put it back together. I know its long and i have no clue if it made sense so im sorry😭😭 enjoy your day💕

༉‧₊˚. 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

― pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

― summary: you knew that being with aaron meant that his job came first, you just hadn't realized how badly it would actually affect you. now, your life and love is on the line.

― warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST!!! you have been warned!, thoughts of breaking up, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, hints of depression.

― wc: 905

⋆ a/n: my first long fic back being angst LMAOOOO. i'm not going to lie, writing this kind of bummed me out a bit but that's how i knew it was going to be good LOL. but never fear, i got a few smutty things in the works, so keep a silly little eye out for that!! i love you guys so so much and thank you for your request!

masterlist | AO3

The room felt melancholic. Empty. 

The sounds of laughter that had once bounced off of the walls of your home now rang silently, one of the only people that knew of the joy that once made your house a home was long gone on a case right now.

You don’t know what to do. How could you last like this? How could your relationship? How could Jack?

Jack, the precious little boy that you had taken under your wing even before you and Aaron had ever made it official. You knew he missed his father dearly, but with every large life milestone the boy had completed, Aaron had missed out on. It had gotten to the point where Jack doesn’t bother to ask you if he could call his dad to tell him about it, because nine times out of ten, he knew that Aaron wouldn’t answer.

So now as you sit here on the couch in the dark with your head in your hands, you can’t help but think that maybe this was it, that it was time to consider the very dreaded other option. 

You tried your best to make your relationship with Aaron work, God did you try, but having to sit there and endure weeks of radio silence, of not knowing whether or not he was alive was excruciating. When he did have time to text or call you, every conversation was more and more distant. 

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, and your bottom lip trembled. You crossed your arms and placed them on your knees where you leaned on them, staring out into the abyss of your dimly lit living room. You had just put Jack to sleep, and you didn’t want to risk waking him up.

Your eyes solemnly scaled the walls where the pictures of your little family hung, frames upon frames of happy smiling faces. 

What happened?

It was the fact you were absolutely drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t hear your front door unlock – something that your boyfriend would deeply frown upon. 

Aaron wasn’t surprised to find the apartment quiet, what he was surprised to find was your silhouette illuminated by a single lamp. What really set off the alarms in his brain was your shivering shoulders, which could only mean one thing.

“Sweetheart?” His deep voice pierced the thin air hovering above you. You just shook your head, any happiness that would have left your mouth died in your throat, the words leaving you was, “We have to talk.”

You hated doing this, but who’s to say he won’t get called in tomorrow? No, you had to do this now.

Aaron felt his heart fall into his stomach as he made his way over towards you, gently sitting down on the cushion next to yours, almost as if he was afraid to scare you.

“Of course. Are you okay?” He inquired in concern. You just shook your head again. “This isn’t working, Aaron.” The pain lacing your voice was unmissable. “What?” He’s completely caught off guard, because this was the last thing he’d expected to come home to.

“I can’t do this anymore… unless – unless we can figure something out but even then I-” He rushes to grab your hand, and it lays limp and cold in his warm and calloused one. “Honey please, what’s wrong? Tell me what I can do.” Holy shit, he’s panicking. 

“You’re never here anymore! I - I can’t remember the last time in the past two months that we’ve been able to have any alone time together! Most of the time you’re either gone in a whole different state or stuck in the office!” You couldn’t stop the word vomit from leaving, all kinds of emotions that had been kept dormant finally coming up to the surface.

You heaved out a deep breath, your body slumping in defeat. “Did you know that Jack learned how to ride a bike today?” You asked quietly. “No.” Aaron gulped, “I didn’t.”

A heavy silence settled between the two of you.

“What do you need me to do?” Finally, you looked at him.

There were unshed tears in your eyes, “What I want you to do, you can’t make it happen.” His eyebrows furrowed. “You want me to quit my job?”

“No,” You said with a disbelieving laugh. “I just want you to be there.”

“Who says I can’t do that?” His head tilts, his eyes boring into yours, desperately trying to read you. It was like his profiler skills didn’t exist. “Every time you’ve had a day off you’ve been called into the office one way or another.” Your tone is hopeless, like your situation can’t be helped. 

With a harsh squeeze of your eyelids, the tears began to fall, but Aaron was quick to swipe them away.

“Honey, look at me,” He cups the side of your cheek, his thumb brushing away the liquid. Hesitantly you did, and you instantly fell victim to the warmness of his irises. “I will fix this, because I am not losing you. My behavior has been completely unacceptable, and I swear that I will be here for you and Jack more consistently, I promise.”

“How do I know if this won’t happen again?

“I’ll make sure of it.” 

It was the finality in his voice that fizzled out the anxiety in your gut, setting your nerves at ease.

“Don’t make me regret this, Hotchner.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[suyacho]

midnight love ft. kakucho

when a knock on your door at midnight leads to you taking care of your ex

content warnings: minors/ageless blogs dni - gn!reader - ex!bf kakucho - blood & wounds mentions, reader patches kakucho up (i’m no pro) - soft to sexual tension ig - cursing - fight mentions - 1,7k words

i thought a had a writer’s block and then this happened, plus it was supposed to focused more on the sexual tension but i just wanna post this LMAOO

Quiet nights with the sound of rain pouring while you caught up with your favorite manga was all you ever needed to be at peace. Yet something was missing, someone was missing and the fact that you were reading romance didn’t help the lonely feeling.

Months had passed since you and Kakucho broke things off, still he lingered on your mind. How could you ever forget him when he meant so much to you? The dates, the late nights, the sex, the cooking together, the chaotic days and most importantly, the way he loved. 

Why did you two let some silly arguments and stressful moments ruin the beautiful thing you once had? 

A sigh left your lips as you closed your manga, tears welling up in your eyes as you got up. “I should sleep.” you mumbled to yourself at checking the time, how was it 01:32 already?

You made your way into your once shared bedroom, freezing in your steps once you heard a knock on the door when you were about to flick the lights on. Nervously swallowing a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

It’s okay, I’ll just pretend I’m asleep, you thought to yourself, goosebumps running up your spine. Who in his right mind would be knocking at your door at this time?

Once again one more knock was heard and you swallowed yet another breath, grabbing scissors from your desk and clutching onto your phone. Slowly making your way over to the door, making sure to not make a single sound.

“Please be home.” A voice mumbled quietly from the other side, too quiet for you to identify who it was. Your hands were shaking as you looked through the peephole, dropping both the scissors and your phone once you noticed who the person knocking was.

What the actual fuck? Talk about coincidence. 

You watched as the person was about to knock once more, speaking up before he could. “What do you want, Kakucho?” you sighed, the man you had been thinking about, drenched and covered in blood, standing in front of your door.

Relief almost immediately washed over Kakucho as he heard your voice, letting his hand fall down, his other hand putting pressure onto presumably a wound. “I’m so sorry, I know this is asking too much but could you please let me in?”

Hesitantly you opened the door, moving aside so he could make his way in. He sounded desperate so he must’ve had a proper reason to come here. 

“Why are you here?” you questioned bluntly, crossing your arms as you looked at him, noticing how exhausted he looked.

“I got fucked up in a fight nearby and this was the closest place that I could think of.” Kakucho answers, letting out the small fact that it was because this was the one place that felt like home, something he already lost once before. Your once shared apartment was also the one place where he felt safe. 

“Go to the bathroom and wait for me.” you sighed, not daring to look him in the eyes as you went and grabbed the emergency kit, something that you purchased pretty quickly into you guys dating.

“They really fucked you up.” you chuckled, grabbing everything you need, having learned how to treat proper wounds, even going as far as knowing how to do basic stitches. “Thanks for pointing out the obvious.” he laughed, ending quickly as he winced in pain.

The way he winced made you worry considering he wasn’t in pain easily. “Go rinse off and call me when you’re done.” you told him after turning the shower on, making your way out of the bathroom, only to be stopped by him.

“Hey, thank you.” he smiled, sincerity lingered in his tone and you just nodded, pulling your hand away, ignoring the burning feeling the touch made you feel, tension rising in the air, oh how you had missed his touch.

Just what was going on? Who in their right mind would let their ex come in but then again, were you supposed to leave him like that? A deep sigh left your lips as you massage your temples, your feelings being all over the place.

Without overthinking it more, you walked over into the guestroom aka the place you stored all his stuff he left at yours. You grabbed a clean set of clothes and a towel before walking towards the bathroom again.

“I’m coming in.” you warned him after knocking, making your way into the bathroom, your eyes falling on the necklace and ring, one you got for him and the other was something you two bought matching. Why was he still wearing those? 

“Thank you, l-” Kakucho stopped himself before he let the nickname slip, glancing over at you with those loving eyes, a smile plastered on his face. One you didn’t notice because you didn’t dare to look up.

You didn’t say anything as you put the clothes down, fighting back the urge to check him out. It wasn’t something you hadn’t seen before, it was a view alright, but you couldn’t do it. Not when you were in this situation, no matter how you missed seeing him like that because you knew your thoughts would only go further, thinking about his body and the times you spent together in the shower.

Just as you were about to walk out, you were once again stopped by a hand, this one a wet and warm one, making your heart skip a bit. “I’m done.” Kakucho taunted, a playful tone lingered in his tone and you could swear you felt him smirking. 

“Then get dried up.” you mumbled, throwing the towel at him, the room growing warmer and the air getting thicker with each passing second. You shouldn't feel like this, not with your ex. He's an ex for a reason.

“Alright, sorry– I’m done.” Kakucho told you, sitting on the counter with just a towel wrapped around him. “This might sting.” you mumbled, putting the rubbing alcohol on a cotton pad and turning around, being taken aback in from the view. He was so fine, he always had been.

You swallowed a breath as you moved closer to him, starting with disinfecting the wounds on his hands. Carefully cleaning it up as you held his big hand, the big hand that used to fit perfectly in yours, the one that always touched you all over and knew all the right spots. “I think that should be good now, right?” Kakucho asked as you tapped the cotton pad on a clean spot, chuckling lightly. 

“Oh– sorry.” you mumbled, putting it aside as you grabbed a bandage, wrapping it around his hand gently. Kakucho watched you with every move, how gentle you were with him like he was the most fragile thing ever, the sweet touches with care, the ones that only made him fall for you deeper.

A silence fell as you did the same to his arms, it was a perfect balance between peaceful and awkward and his eyes were still glued on you. However, something was much more different compared to the moment he stepped into your apartment, both in the tension and in you two as individuals, it was like you were unintentionally yearning for each other. 

“Hey…” Kakucho started, making you pause in your movements and look him in the eyes for the first time tonight, making you realize how close you actually were to one another as your heart skipped a beat. 

“Yes..?” Hesitation was vibrant in your voice as you caught yourself staring at his lips and then back at his eyes, missing the way he would kiss you or place kisses all over your body.

Kakucho didn’t say anything yet he moved closer to you, your lips being centimeters away to the point where you could feel his breath ghosting over yours.

The rational part in you was screaming at you, telling you to pull back and just focus on patching up. The other part was somehow yearning for his touch, like your body was moving on its own.

You shook your head, taking a few steps back as you gave him a bittersweet smile. “We shouldn’t do this, Kakucho.”

Kakucho, no longer Kaku or love, something he’d wished was different. 

“Yeah, you’re right, sorry.” he apologized and you shrugged it off, cleaning up the supplies hurriedly. “Are you not fixing this one?” Kakucho asked awkwardly, moving back a bit so you could see it better.

It was the worst wound yet somehow you wanted it to be over. The way the towel was wrapped around his hips, just enough to hide it but still show his v-line and happy trail, it was almost like he did it on purpose.

“This might sting a little.” you warned him again, disinfecting the wound on his lower abdomen, Kakucho groaning slightly at the feeling, trying to keep his mind from wandering further as you touched him close to where he wanted you to.

Kakucho was way too quiet compared to earlier but you didn’t say anything as you wrapped the bandage around it. Your hand ghosted right over the towel and you could swear you felt him tense up.

“All done.” you smiled proudly, fixing up the last thing and looking him in the eyes once again, knowing those dark eyes better than anyone. 

“Are you sure..? Don’t you need to check a little further down.” Kakucho questioned, having you closer to him with one swift move as you let out a shaky breath.

“Kaku..” you mumbled, praying he didn’t hear your heart beating like crazy or notice the way you’ve been rubbing your legs together the past few minutes.

Although Kakucho knew you better than anyone and noticed it before you even realized. “Sorry, you can curse me all you want later.” he apologized, his hands now being on your sides.

This wasn’t like him but it had been too long, too long since he last was with you. On top of that, he had so much pent up sexual frustration considering Kakucho didn’t sleep with anyone else, even if months had passed, his heart belonged to you, the one he let get away.

“Please…” you mumbled, moving his hand down while one of yours was placed on his chest. You didn’t say more, your body language told him all he needed to know and frankly, he didn’t know how much longer he could hold back.

Maybe he should thank those guys for beating him up.

[itoshiexx]

mi vida

synopsis: sae never thought someone could become his life, but that changed when you came.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 749 | warnings: established relationship, fluff

notes: welcome back to "things i wrote on a whim when my boss wasn't at the office"!! apparently i write a lot better in english without much planning, so yeah. this idea came to me based on a personal experience, since i call my boyfriend "minha vida" (which is the same for "mi vida"/"my life" in portuguese) and i never really thought i could consider someone to be my life before him.

i really really hope you like it, and i wanna thank you all so much for all the love you've given to Unworthy (but chosen), every note and follower made me super happy! &lt;3

and also, i'm so sorry if my description of the spanish culture is not accurate and for any english mistakes!

during his time in spain, sae learned a lot of things. mainly, how to improve his soccer career even more, striving to become the best in the world after already being the best in his country. 

he was a genius, of course, so it wasn’t really hard to learn the language or get acquainted with the city of madrid, which was a lot warmer than japan — in many ways. however, it was really fucking hard to get used to the customs of the spanish people and its culture, considering it was so different from the japanese. they were extremely welcome, and sae was anything but. if anything, he was even more closed than typical japanese people. 

in spain, people were always greeting each other with a kiss on each cheek, showing off bright smiles and making conversation with strangers. friends talked loudly among each other, giving hugs and always touching somehow. the concept of personal space? totally nonexistent. in short, it was weird. 

but nothing was weirder than couples. 

the concept of love was already foreign to sae. he didn’t understand how a feeling could envelop one so much and make it forget about the rest of the world. he didn’t know how such an abstract thing, with no sense of logic whatsoever, could be so overwhelming to the point of taking one’s life completely, until all you could see, think and feel was your significant other.

most of all, he couldn’t fathom how someone could become your life. 

“te amo, mi vida,” was what he used to hear an old couple say to each other. they were the owners of sae’s favorite restaurant, a small little place in the suburbs of Madrid, and always treated him with a kindness he didn’t deemed himself worthy of. 

at first, he wasn’t able to comprehend what the sentence meant. he could barely write it on google translate to try to get its meaning, and he didn’t really care enough. though, as the time went by and sae became more fond of the couple, he eventually gathered the courage to ask the woman about it. and he was very surprised to hear the answer. 

“it means ‘i love you, my life’,” she said, smiling from ear to ear and handing a glass of salted kombucha tea to sae. it was one of the reasons he adored the place so much — it was the only restaurant he found that served his favorite drink. 

the older itoshi could only stare, dumbfounded, and mumble, “…why?”

the woman laughed at the boy’s naiveté. “why, you ask? because that’s what he is to me.” 

sae only stared in silence, too stunned to speak.

“i… i don’t understand,” he confessed. it sounded silly, and kind of pathetic, but at that moment he didn’t really care. the woman gave another smile, this time an understanding countenance, and placed her wrinkly hand on his shoulder. 

“you will understand one day, boy. and when your person comes, make sure to bring them here, right? i’d like to meet them!” 

the soccer player wanted to tell her that it would never happen. that the itoshi sae had no time for foolish things like love, and he most certainly would never love someone so much to the point of seeing them as his life. his life was soccer, and his goal was to become the best in the world. 

there was nothing else. 

oh, how he bit his tongue. 

it was at the age of twenty two when he entered the restaurant once again, and this time, not alone. you were walking by his side, with your hand intertwined in his, chatting excitedly while he just listened. a small smile was on his face, and his features were impossibly soft, in a way they only got around you. 

you, who were light in the darkness, who were comfort after a long day of practice, who was the one he loved most. you, who was the definition of home in every sense of the word. the only one that could make his heart swell so much it made it hard to breathe. 

he pulled your chair for you to sit like a true gentleman, and sat right next to you, always in need to touch you somehow. a hand was placed on your thigh while the other one opened the menu. and he turned to you, voice gentle like you could break:

“so, what would you like, mi vida?”

you, who was his life.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[daredvssy]

Gloves

Saw an absolutely sinful photo of Copia's old grucifix gloves earlier and immediately set off to write this. Thank god I'm not all that interested in seeing heaven's gates because I'm definitely never going to make it there now! If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here :)

Ship: Cardinal Copia x Reader

Rating: 18+!!!!!! No minors PLEASE!

Wordcount: 2047

Warnings: smut, fingering, glove kink, f!receiving oral sex

It’s not like you meant for it to happen, really. When your beloved had come to you and asked if you could aid him in sorting through some documents he needed to translate, you had been quick to agree to help. After all, he always did so much and so rarely asked for any sort of assistance, and you definitely wouldn’t ever pass up a chance to spend a little extra time with him, no matter how that time was spent.

So yes, you had genuinely gone to his office with the best of intentions, truly meaning to help the Cardinal in any way that you could. And you would have, save for one problem. No matter what you did, you couldn’t seem to focus.

Those damn gloves he always wore were the problem. The smooth black leather stood out so blatantly from the red fabric of his cassock. Combined with the decorative grucifixes that adorned the backs of them, they served to automatically draw your attention to his hands.

And oh, what incredible hands they were. His hands were quite large, and by this point in your relationship you were all too aware of exactly how talented he was with those long, thick fingers. Just thinking about it was enough to have you squeezing your thighs together in a pathetic attempt to fight off a surge of arousal.

As you stared at his hands while he worked, you couldn’t help but wonder exactly how those fingers would feel inside you if he were to leave the gloves on. You already knew the leather was sinfully, luxuriously soft; you were well accustomed to the feeling of his gloved hands caressing your face or holding your own. The thought of that texture instead being used for less innocent touches had left you in a state where it was almost impossible for you to get any work done, or pay attention to anything else.

You were yanked out of your reverie with a jolt when you realized that Copia was looking at you expectantly, apparently waiting for you to answer a question he had asked.

“Sorry, what did you say?” you asked meekly, a little embarrassed to have been caught staring so intently that you hadn’t even heard him.

“I was asking if you are okay, cara,” he replied. If he was slightly annoyed by your strange behaviour, he very graciously didn’t show it. “You look like your thoughts are elsewhere, should we take a little break?”

“Maybe that’s a good idea,” you agreed, grateful for the suggestion. “I apologize Copia, I’m just a little distracted right now.”

“Distracted? Is something bothering you?” he asked, furrowing his brow in concern.

“I’m fine Copia,” you replied, a small smile gracing your lips. He was always so quick to react if he thought you were feeling even the slightest bit off. “It’s just something silly, really, you don’t need to worry about it,” you reassured him. Copia narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. “Mi amore, if it is bothering you then I am sure that it’s not silly. Tell me, what has you so preoccupied?” he pressed, unwilling to let the subject drop.

You flushed bright red, realizing he wasn’t going to let this go until you admitted exactly what it was that had made you so distracted. You took a deep breath in an attempt to steel yourself.

“Well,” you started, staring determinedly at a spot on the floor to avoid meeting his intent gaze. “It’s… your hands, I guess. Or… your gloves, actually.”

“My gloves?” said Copia, mystified. He reached over to you, one of the offending gloved hands gently guiding you by the chin to lift your head and look him in his duochromatic eyes. “What do you mean, cara?” he urged.

“Well it’s just… Your hands look so good in them, and they feel so nice and soft whenever you touch me in them… I guess I was just wondering what they would feel like if you touched me with them… somewhere else,” you admitted, the words flying out of you all at once.

Realization finally dawned on Copia’s face, and you were sure you were going to burst into flames in your embarrassment. You attempted to turn your gaze downward again, but were prevented from doing so when his grip on your chin tightened, insisting that you continued to look him in the eye.

“Come here, bella ragazza,” he directed you, moving his chair back and guiding you to stand in front of him, his desk behind you. “If only there was something I could do about this… distraction,” he said, pretending to be deep in thought. As he spoke, he ran both hands down your sides, coming to a stop with them resting around your waist. You shuddered slightly, his actions only fanning the flames of the arousal you had been feeling since shortly after you arrived at his office.

Copia removed his hands from your waist and leaned back, considering you. Almost unwillingly, a soft whimper escaped you at the loss of his touch. He smirked knowingly at the sound.

“Take this off,” he said, tugging at the hem of your dress. The tone of his voice left no room for argument, not that you would have protested anyways. You loved the times when he got like this, demanding and domineering. Quickly, you did as you were told, pulling your dress off over your head, not caring if you mussed your hair in the process. You were left in nothing but your bra and panties, shivering a little in the cool air of his office.

“Bene,” he said. He gestured towards his desk behind you. “Take a seat.”

Not needing any further instruction, you hopped up on his desk. Just as you had earlier, you squeezed your thighs together to alleviate the ache between your legs.

“None of that, bella,” he tutted, as he moved his chair forward to position himself closer to where you were perched on his desk. “Let me see you,” he demanded.

You huffed a little in response to his scolding, but made no further comment as you opened your legs a little for him.

“More,” he demanded, his hands coming up to your thighs to urge your legs to open even wider. He kept his hands in place as if he was holding your legs open. As he noticed the very clear wet patch that had formed on your panties, the smirk returned to his face.

“Yes, just as I expected,” he said, studying the wet spot intently. You were almost certain you were blushing redder than his cassock, at this point.

“Copiaaa,” you whined, drawing out the last syllable of his name. “Please touch me,” you begged.

“So needy,” he chuckled, teasing. “Don’t worry bella, I will take care of you.” He slowly, very gently dragged one of his gloved hands up from its place on your thigh to softly rub at your clit through the soaked fabric of your panties.

You mewled at the contact, gripping the side of his desk hard. You squirmed a little, trying to coax him to touch you with a little more pressure, to no avail.

He studied your face carefully as he continued to trace feather-light circles around your clit through the ruined fabric, like he was determined not to miss any of your reactions. He continued with this for a little bit, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Copia please,” you blurted out, well past the point where you would have felt any shame about how desperate you sounded.

“Please what?” he replied, feigning confusion. “What do you need, amore?”

“I need you to touch me!” you grunted out in frustration, trying again in vain to wiggle your hips in an attempt to make him touch you with more pressure.

“I’m already touching you, cara,” replied Copia. “You are going to need to be a little more specific.”

You whined again in distress at his refusal to cooperate and make things easy for you. “Harder, Copia please,” you begged.

Copia regarded you for a moment, as though he was considering his options. Just as you thought he was going to ignore your pleas and keep teasing you, he stopped altogether.

“Okie dokie,” he said cheerfully, hooking his fingers in the waistline of your drenched panties to pull them down. He discarded them quickly, and then finally, blissfully brought his hand back up to touch you again, firmer this time.

You hissed at the sensation of the soft leather of his gloves gliding smoothly around your clit, the sensation making you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Is that better, amore?” he asked as he rubbed you, coaxing gasps and moans and all sorts of other noises from your lips.

“Yes, yes Copia,” you moaned out. Satisfied with this response, he turned his attention to your entrance, gathering some of your wetness on his gloved fingers before slipping one of them inside of you.

You keened in approval as he began to pump his finger in and out of you, quickly adding a second finger alongside it. The added thickness of the gloves on his fingers combined with the smooth texture of the leather felt divine, and it wasn’t long before you had to squeeze your eyes shut, overwhelmed by the sensation.

While you weren’t looking, Copia took the opportunity to lean in and lap gently at your clit with his tongue, never one to pass up an opportunity to eat you out. Your eyes flew open at the sensation, your hands moving without your permission to grip his hair, moaning loudly.

Copia continued to curl his fingers in and out of you as he licked and sucked at your clit, the wet sounds it produced absolutely filthy.

One particularly well-aimed thrust of his fingers pressed perfectly against your sweet spot, ripping a gasp from your throat. “Fuck Copia!” you cried out, your legs beginning to tremble as he continued to attack that same spot over and over.

“Are you close, brava ragazza?” Copia asked, pausing his tongue’s ministrations to your clit momentarily to await your response.

“Yes, yes I’m so close Copia please please please!,” you practically sobbed.

“Good,” he replied plainly, before returning his mouth to you, sucking hard as he continued to curl his gloved fingers to rub against your sweet spot.

This was enough to send you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you in waves as you clenched around his fingers, a litany of curses and his name leaving your mouth as he worked you through it. He kept going until you could handle no more, one of your hands pushing at his head to signal your oversensitivity. He pulled back, panting heavily as he brought his other arm up to wipe some of your mess off of his face. He slipped his fingers out of you, holding them up to examine the mess you had made of his glove.

“Come here,” he said, his voice wavering a little with his lust. You slid down into his lap, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, securing you in place with little concern for the wet spot you were most certainly going to leave on his cassock.

He held his fingers out for you to see the wetness he had collected on his gloves.

“Open,” he commanded you. Immediately, you opened your mouth for him, allowing him to slip his fingers in. Without further prompting, you closed your mouth around them, diligently sucking them clean.

“Good girl,” he praised, when he finally removed his fingers from your mouth. He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, the chasteness of the action contrasting sharply with what he had just finished doing to you. When he broke the kiss, you leaned forward to rest your head against his shoulder.

“Copia?” you asked as he held you.

“Yes, amore?”

“That was very good, you know, but I’m pretty sure I’m never gonna be able to get any work done now.”

Copia chuckled at this. “Ehe… Well, I say fuck it for now,” he said. “Besides, I just thought of something better we could spend our evening doing.”

You smiled into his neck. You were in for a long night.

[ash5monster01]

Do you want me?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x FemReader

Warnings: angst, fluff

Summary: As a girl who had often been single and found herself in crappy relationships, it’s hard to get into a new relationship without knowing the full intentions of the other. So when Rooster starts to show his attraction in more physical ways it’s hard to just let it slide. (just a short little blurb but I relate very much to it considering most men who kiss me go for other girls anyways, so I wanted to make Rooster a comfort character)

word count: 744

Masterlist

If you were being completely honest you weren’t sure when your relationship with Rooster had turned into something more. First it was simple, just friends. Then touches started to linger, eyes began to stare, and compliments meant so much more. So here you were, sat on the couch of his apartment, watching a movie you had seen a hundred times, as he popped a fresh bag of popcorn. The flirting had been going on long enough now that both of you were aware of the attraction, so when Rooster came back he wasn’t so shy about sitting directly next to you. His arm wrapped around the back of your spot on the couch.

“We can watch something else” he told you, his face so close it was almost hard to breath. For the first time since you guys had started flirting you felt the panic set in. It had been a long time since you had kissed someone and it actually mean something. Rooster took your silence as a different answer though. “Unless you don’t want to watch a movie?”

“Sorry” your apology was pathetic because there was nothing to apologize for. “I was stuck in thought”

“Oh yeah, about what?” the suggestive smirk on Roosters face brought a red tint to your cheeks. You had never been shy to men flirting but you knew you deserved more than what you had in the past and with how confusing this whole new relationship had been, how were you to know his true intentions?

“Wouldn’t you like to know” you teased nudging your shoulder into his chest now that he had turned his body to face you a bit more.

“I would because if it’s about me kissing you then that’s what I was thinking about too” you felt your heart sink and you wish you hadn’t been so disappointed by men in the past and this moment would be much more exciting than depressing for you. Rooster could sense this change in your demeanor and he pushed some hair behind your ear. “We also don’t have to if you don’t want to”

“It’s not that” you sighed pressing your face into your hands. You felt so silly and dumb but it had been so long since you had actually felt wanted and even then it was just a feeling.

“You can tell me Y/N” he liked you, more than he thought he did, and he wanted this to be perfect. But if you were having second thoughts he didn’t want to get too attached.

“It’s just if you kiss me it has to be because you want to kiss me. I can’t pretend that being just some other girl, another checkmark on a long list of ladies satisfies me. If we do this, if I open up to you, I’m making sure I’m not wasting my time on a guy who has other options that he knows he would choose over me. I have to be the only choice because I’m so tired of being disappointed” Rooster had not expected this response and he felt his heart ache at the fact someone amazing as you had never been treated the way you should be.

“Y/N I don’t even have another option in mind. To be perfectly honest with you my feelings for you snuck up on me. But right here, right now, you are the only girl I want on my couch. And you are definitely the only girl I want to kiss” your heart began to pound at this confession. But it also continued to hammer against your chest because this almost guaranteed he was going to be kissing you.

“Promise?” you whispered, the anticipation now killing you.

“I promise” he told you before pressing his lips against yours. His mustache scratched your face but you could care less because it didn’t even compare to how amazing his plump lips felt against yours. Now that you knew he wanted this as much as you it felt like you could breathe. The taste of his cherry lips was better than you had imagined and he quickly pressed a firm hand into your back, pushing you further into him. Who cared about the movie now because this was so much better than anything else in this world.

“Yeah, I don’t want to watch the movie anymore” you said as you pulled away and he grinned before closing the gap between you once more.

[mayfast]

Little Blurb while I Work On the Next Part of My Aocorro Series...

Note: This is all subject to change. Just wanted you guys to know I am, in fact still working on it.

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

“…” The thought is catching on the younger’s tongue, Jake sees it. He sees how the little twitches around his mouth get snuffed by a second thought. “Am…Am I in trouble?”

It’s not what he was expecting. Is he really all worked up over some paint? He feels whatever tension building up in his temple fade away.

“No,” The word falls gently, because why would Spider be in trouble? He’s learning, and exploring and expressing himself, the way kids are suppose to. “Why would you think that?” He takes another hit of the mask. Heavier air filling his lungs properly.

“It’s just that, you came over this morning after yesterday,” Spider’s thumb rubs over his mug’s handle and he looks way, “You’d just never said anything about the paint yesterday, sir.” The bitterness lingers over his tongue and slips down his throat, wrapping around it. Another twitch his eyes barked at him for his son to call him sir. Like he was an officer, or a drill sergeant. Not his fucking Dad.

It takes him a moment to just look at his baby. Eye’s still heavy with bags, and matted hair. He smaller hands wrapped around the warm mug like it’s the only thing protecting him from the big bad scary wolf sitting across from him. Maybe Spider really feels like it is.

The head tension is back with a vengeance now as guilt berates him. Spider thinks him wanting to spend time with his son alone, is to punish him. Eywa forgive him. That’s…that’s not what he meant to do.

“I’m sorry bud, I shouldn’t have just pulled this out of the blue,” Spider’s lips flatline and he realizes maybe that wasn’t the best word choice, “But I just wanted to…spend more time with you.” The bouncing knee cuts its movement and Jake can see the way he tightens his grip on the mug. He brown eyes still looking out the window beside them.

“…Thank you for, uh, trying” The sigh was less out of annoyance, or exhaustion, and more of not knowing what to say, tittering off towards the end. Those warm brown eyes shyly meet his. “I appreciate it.” Somehow, with the gentle orbs focusing in on him again, he can tell the words are forced, no matter how sincere they sound. No matter how pleading those eyes look at him, he can tell somewhere in his soul, Spider’s just telling him what he thinks Jake wants to hear.

He's failed before he could even try.

“Can I ask you a question?” He perks up as the words echo the hallow shack. He feels a prick in the back his neck. Spider wants to ask him something?

“Of course,” He trails off, almost letting some form of affection slip. Would Spider’s be okay with petnames or silly nicknames? Would it annoy him like Lo’ak?

He smells fire as Spider collects his words a bit more, eyes glazing over before refocusing in cycles as he mouth twitches to open before closing again. Jake’s stomach twists. What has his kid so worked up that he feels like he can’t even speak around him?

“It’s it true that your old call sign was Cerberus?” Air knocked right out his lungs. Who taught him that? Who told him that? Who let his kid know what he had been? What he vowed to never return to? Who told Spider about his time with the marines. Who told him about what happened in Venezuela. Who- “You don’t have to answer.” Spider’s meek, his eyes widen as he’s staring right at him. Jake lowers his lips, covering his bared teeth. He barred his fangs at his fucking baby. He blinks, before blinking again. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck

He stood as the heavy thumps echoed in his head, reaching over the table to calm his baby that he just snarled at. The other throws himself backward, coffee filling the air as the boy scrambles away. The chair is skewed on the floor, the mug rolling away from his child. Coffee stains grow on his shirt, eyes wide with fear.

He pulls back immediately, realizing he's scaring his son. His ears pull back, vainly trying to shut the echoes up.

‘That boy knows everything.’ Didn’t he scream that months ago when they took off?

THUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMPTHUMP

He watches as Spider hyperventilates, his body starting to shake. First in the hands, then his lungs as he draws breath, growing from his shoulders to his torso and to his twitching feet. His head twitches left, twice, pulling him forward and back. Yerik's eyes stare at him from across that river. Blood in the water, and down his nose. The iron scent coats the room so fast as it dribbles thickly over his lip. Lamb to the slaughter, he felt a heavy weight settle in his chest, suffocating him with the iron tang of blood and the acrid scent of spilled coffee.

Jake is taut, his son is on the floor freaking out and bleeding. Your fault. Spider was not like this before they left. Your fault. Spider was not scared of him, certainly never flinched at a raised arm. Your fault. Spider never had nosebleeds. Your fault. He knew what the RDA would do to a prisoner. Your fault. Hadn’t he done that to prisoners too? Your fault. Spider didn’t know his name was Cerberus before then. Your fault. No one knew that. Your fault.

The kid knows everything.

_________________

Yes, yes, yes, I know. Not very Aocorro here. But little Jake & Spider interaction for the soul huh? Anyone huh? No? Okay. Anyway, there will be cutesy Spider/Ao'nung stuff at the end, probably a forehead kiss, because GOD. @lovermyme, their art is so fucking good! He makes me feral with his depictions of Spider and Ao'nung.

[papayatori]

Don’t Blink! (P3)

LN4 x fém!reader

No warnings

I’m not sure how long I’m going to carry on this series, I guess it depends on how well it does. I’ve got nothing but positives so far, so I hope it stays that way. I also take requests! Feel free to leave me some! (This one is kind of shorter, I’m sorry. Longer one next time!)

My alarm interrupted my peaceful sleeping. I was beyond pissed and could have thrown it across the room had it not simply been doing its God-forsaken job. I decided that, at the ungodly hour of 7am on a Saturday, that I would get up and make breakfast like normal human beings usually do.

How incredibly jealous I was of said human beings.

In about thirty minutes, I had started things in the kitchen. I had my morning cup of Chai and was ready to take on the world; and by the world, I meant the frying pan.

Pancakes were a delicacy that could not be coveted, an art that took decades to master. Pancakes with bacon were even better. Not to mention, keeping my apartment from burning down as an added plus. With that said, I gave all of my attention to the stovetop.

After a long battle with the floury pancake mix and attempting to turn it into a batter(there was now a huge mess to clean up later, yet another reason I have yet to master the art of pancake making), I had finally managed to have a breakfast fit for a king.

Or better yet, a breakfast fit for me.

I had decided to leave the mess to clean up later, I was hungry and it could wait. Though, I was proud of myself and couldn’t help but snap a picture of my breakfast and post it on Twitter.

I ate in a comfortable and relaxing silence. I had earned this after yesterday. Though, I hadn’t really stumbled upon last nights memories until now. Lando and I had texted for a while after I had gone to bed, him insisting that I never answered his ‘question’. At first I was really sure what he meant, but then I had come to the realization that he was asking when our next date was.

Silly me.

I would be lying if the thought of our time yesterday hadn’t sent me into a mess of smiles and butterflies every time I thought of it. Sure, I had always found Lando attractive, but never had I thought anything more than that. Why would I? I hadn’t met him until yesterday.

I’m starting to believe I might be going insane, and I will be blaming Lando for legal purposes.

Ding!

Startled, I looked down at my phone. I usually didn’t get many replies on Twitter, this was new.

And you didn’t invite me? I thought we were friends 💔

At first I was confused as hell, and then I read the name of the person who had replied.

Lando Norris

I shook my head with a small smile spreading across my lips. I wasn’t sure how he managed to find my social media, or why for that matter, but I suppose it wouldn’t have been too hard. I decided to reply anyway.

Maybe next time Mr. Norris

…

…

…

My laptop open, camera plugged in, I knew for a fact that these were going to be the easiest photos I’d ever edited. I plopped myself back down on my couch, satisfied with my breakfast and cleanup afterwards, one hindered percent determined to be productive today.

Woo hoo!

Okay, maybe that was a bit of sarcasm. Though, i wasn’t lying about these photos being easy to edit. The hard part, however, would be keeping my eyes off of Lando’s face for long enough to edit his photos.

Who knew such a thing could be so insanely difficult.

It was honestly frustrating trying to keep my mind away from him. I’ve dated my fair share of men, and I don’t think I’ve ever had this much trouble keeping my thoughts in check. This also begs the question, what exactly were we now? I’m not sure if our date had any romantic implications in the first place. He could have just been being friendly. I would be a fool to mention it.

A knock on the door pulled me completely out of my rambling thoughts, and a part of me was thankful. I got up to open it, curious as who the hell could be knock in on my door at 9am.

The door revealed the most beautiful pair of blue-green eyes I had ever seen.

“I brought you things!” Lando said excitedly, not waiting on me to let him in a pushing past me to the table in my kitchen.

“Good morning to you too, Lando.” I chuckled, following closely after him.

“So, first things first. I’m mad at you.” Lando pushed his bottom lip out, giving me a pout I couldn’t help but giggle at.

“And why would that be, Mr. Norris?” He glared at me.

“You know exactly why I’m mad at you.” He clicked his tongue. “Fortunately for you, that isn’t why I am here.” I tilted my head, urging him to continue.

Lando pulled some bits of paper out of the sack I hadn’t realized he was holding. His eyes were too much of a distraction for me to even notice. He smiled then, holding my gaze for a little longer than I had anticipated before finally breaking the silence once more.

“Sign these.” He slid the papers towards me.

“What am I signing exactly?” I asked. As he handed me the pen, our fingertips touched for a moment, sending electricity through my body. My face heated up and I reverted my eyes back down to the paper to keep from falling into his.

“It’s a contract. I worked my magic with Zak, you’re welcome, and he’s written up an official agreement for you to work for McLaren.”

“You’re lying.” I gasped, reading through the paper that said just about the exact same thing Lando had just described to me. “I thought you were joking.”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up like that, not even after you had pancakes without me.” I rolled my eyes at his smirking figure. I ignored his comment.

“I just can’t believe it’s actually happening. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted something like this.” This time I looked up at Lando with the biggest, genuine smile he’s ever seen me wear, and instead of smirking, he actually gave me a genuine smile back.

“I’m sure you can believe this then.” He reached further down into the back, balling it up afterwards. “Paddock pass for Bahrain. You won’t need to worry about the flight or the hotel situation, you’re going to be staying in the same one as Oscar and myself. I think Zak will probably also be there this time around seeing as it’s the first race of the season.”

Before I could really think about what I was doing, my arms were wrapped around him in a tight embrace. He was quite taller than me, leaving my face buried into his chest. His muscles were tense, slowly easing as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Thank you, Lando.” I mumbled, my voice muffled from his chest.

“Anything for you, darling.”

Coming to my senses, I pulled away a bit quicker than I would have liked.

“Fuck, I’m sorry-“

Lando was laughing at me now, probably seeing how red my face was.

“I got a bit excited.” I continued to try and explain myself without sounding like a fan.

Well, I was a fan, but that was beside the point.

“Just don’t get so excited that you forget to sign those papers, Miss y/ln.” I looked down at them to find that he was right, I really had forgotten to sign the papers.

His hand squeezed my shoulder as I was writing, causing me to hesitate slightly before continuing. His touch sent waves of heat through me, heat that I could explain but most definitely couldn’t deny either.

I looked up at him when I finished, praying my face wouldn’t give away the things his touch did to me. He smiled sweetly.

“I can’t wait for next week.” He said, as if he were the one who had just signed contract papers with McLaren as their primary photographer.

“Neither can I.”

…

…

…

“This picture? Really?” Lando gave me a look as we pulled my laptop away from me on the couch. I should’ve learned my lesson last time he took something from me, but apparently I had not.

“I like that one! It brings out your eyes.” I stated proudly. He smirked.

“You like my eyes, do you?” I paused, not expecting for that sort of question after the moments we had spent in the kitchen.

“Maybe, maybe not; but one thing is for certain, and that is that the LN4 Twitter fan girls are infatuated with them, and that’s all I need for my entire career to blow up.”

Who was I trying to fool, myself? Lando sent me a knowing look.

“Staring contest, go!” I was completely caught off guard by this, not prepared in the slightest.

His eyes bore into my own, blinding me without any light whatsoever. They were full of so many emotions that I couldn’t place, though the joy behind his iris’s couldn’t be contained. I almost smiled at the thought that maybe I was the reason behind the joy he was feeling.

Don’t blink

I lost myself in his eyes, in my thoughts, perfectly content to stare into him for the rest of our time together. I hadn’t realized that that we had slowly drifted towards each other, my mouth parted slightly in instinctive anticipation. Was this really happening?

Then he stuck is tongue out at me.

I blinked in confusion at first, laughing at his action before realizing I had lost the staring contest.

“Oh fuck off!” I laughed, throwing on of the couch pillows at him.

“You’re just mad because I’m right!” He laughed along with me, seeing the dawning look of realization grow on my face.

The only reason we had a staring contest was just for him to prove the fact that I liked his eyes. This bastard knew what he was doing. Honestly, I was starting to like that.

Or maybe I was just starting to like him.

…

…

…

The late afternoon had rolled around after spending the entire day joking around with Lando.

So much for being productive.

I led him to the door on his way out. I’m not really sure why I didn’t want him to leave; but, his presence sure beat the hell out of being lonely and editing his photos all day.

“Thanks for today, I had a lot of fun.” I said, giving him a small smile as a thanks. He chuckled.

“So did I, other than the part where I didn’t get pancakes.” I rolled my eyes before an idea popped into my head.

“If you won’t hold this over my head anymore, maybe you could come over for breakfast tomorrow morning?” Proud of myself, I gave him a wink. He blanked, surprised I even offered.

“Sure! As long as I can consider it our second date.”

“A deals a deal.” I offered him my hand. He shook it with a triumphant smile, bringing my hand to his lips before gently kissing the back of it.

“I suppose I’ll see you in the morning then, darling.”

And with that, he was gone and the door had shut behind him. The only thing he left behind was the faint scent of his cologne.

[mangoguy]

Displacement (2/2)

John "Soap" MacTavish('09) x Reader x John "Soap" MacTavish('22)

Warnings: Mentions of character death (Ghost and Roach), no y/n used, no pronouns other than they/them used a few of times.

You can't help but find it difficult to get used to your new surroundings.

_

It's finally here!!! I meant for this to be out a week after the first part, but school got busy lmao

Read the first part here

There are a few things you have noticed after being thrown in here.

One, the year is 2023.

Two, You are married to John (or Johnny as he likes being called) in this timeline.

And three, you don’t work in the military, you are no longer with Task Force 141.

That third one hit particularly hard. Your task force was a huge part of your life along with John.

You faked memory loss, thinking it was a smart move for now. You doubted they would even believe you if you started spouting that you were not from here. Even to you, that sounded crazy.

‘Because it is…’ you thought bitterly.

This universe wasn't in World War III, you weren't complaining though, that was the mission after all. You still had a hard time adjusting, especially with him around, Johnny. The man who wears your husband's face. Well, you guessed you're even… since technically you were wearing his wife's face? That's how you saw it anyway.

He was worried about you, often asking if you were okay. You could never really answer him, just stare and nod. You felt so foreign here, out of place, and you missed John so much it made you ill. You wondered what happened to him? Was he okay? Something told you he wasn’t. With where your mind was going this was going to be a long hospital stay…

It's been two months since you've woken up. Your mind convinced you it was some weird coma dream.

‘People have those, don't they?’ You thought, staring out the living room window. You felt silly mourning the loss of some older version of yourself and Johnny. It was morbid of your brain to think of how Ghost would die, or mourn the loss of two others you ‘barely knew.’ You found it funny how Price looked in your dream, older, a little unhinged. Gaz was what scared you the most in terms of dream Gaz, you didn't want to think about it.

You met them briefly, Task Force 141, Johnny's teammates, and friends. They all seemed very concerned about you, maybe even a little guilty like they caused the accident. You assured them you were fine and mentioned that the doctors said you were healing quite nicely.

“Aye, but they… have memory loss, can't remember a damn thing… the doctor said it looks severe,” Johnny spoke in a hushed whisper when you went off to fetch something.

“They can't remember anything?” Kyle spoke.

“Yeah, and I'm talkin’ like their whole life, it's like they're a new person… Can't even remember our weddin’ day, our first meetin’, or… anythin’” Johnny could feel his heartbreak just speaking it out loud. A painful reminder of what happened, he thought maybe someone was punishing him. Probably was, for the things he's done. He gave a deep sigh, as Kyle gave him a reassuring pat on the back. Price and Simon both frowned, giving the Scot a sympathetic look, that's when you decided to enter the room again.

“Bonnie yer… are ye okay? Ye've been starin’ out the window for a while…” you heard Johnny speak softly. You turned to look at him, nodding your head softly.

“Yeah sorry, just… I guess I'm reminiscing on some weird dream I had while in that coma,” you admitted.

“Hm? Dream ye say? Do ye want tae talk about it?” John sat near you on the couch and pulled you into his arms. It was comforting being in his embrace.

“Hm, not much to say other than… I guess I just dreamt of a whole other life for us? You were there, though you were a bit older… definitely more handsome in my dream,” you gave him a cheeky grin.

“Looks like I've got some competition,” he paused to chuckle softly. “But older you say? Were ye dreaming of tae future or somethin’?” Johnny asked.

“Hm, you could say that… though there are differences in dream John and you in real life.”

“Aye… and what's that?”

“Well for one he was a bit taller than you,” you snickered.

“Aye!”

“And well he didn't have an arm tattoo, like you do he had one on his neck, a revolver,” you paused to think, your mind was getting a little muddy on details.

“Oh! And your scars are different, that's all I seem to remember at the moment...” you finished. Johnny was silent for a moment, absorbing this new information. It was nice hearing you talk again, even if it was about this mysterious other version of himself.

“Damn, sounds like one handsome bastard…”

“Johnny…”

“What I'm bein’ serious,” he muses.

Something weird was going on, you couldn't place your finger on it. It all started with a pair of jeans. What scared you was that you vaguely recalled wearing them somewhere. You placed them down on the floor and stared at them.

‘Of course, I wore them somewhere they're pants…’ You thought, thinking it was silly you were worried about jeans. You shook your head, grabbing them off the floor but that's when something slipped out from the pocket. One fell with a hard thunk and the other fluttered to the ground. You pick them both up. One was a simple wedding band on it was an engraving, two sets of dates

xx-xx-‘07

xx-xx-‘09

The other item made your heart drop in your stomach. Time seemed to stop as familiar sets of eyes were on you. John Price, Ghost, John “Soap” MacTavish, you. In the corner of the photo were the words ‘OP Kingfish.’

This was it.

The evidence that your ‘coma dream’ wasn't a dream after all. How could you think it was a dream? How dare this world make you think your John was a dream, your world. You assumed it was the universe trying to make you ‘fit in,’ but that begs the question, how did your stuff get here? You shoved the ring and photo in your pocket as you heard Johnny walking over to where you were.

“Hey Bonnie, are you almost done gettin’ ready? Simon texted saying he was at the bar already,” Johnny watched you as you put the jeans back in the closet.

“Yeah I'm ready, can't keep the man waiting,” you smiled though it didn't reach your eyes.

While watching Ghost and Johnny converse you felt the ring and photo through your pocket for the tenth time. You worried they would disappear and yet they never did. You stood up from your seat, getting the attention of the two men at the table.

“Just heading to the bathroom,” you spoke, walking towards the small hallway that housed the restrooms. You entered, taking a quick breather, your emotions were everywhere tonight. It was starting to annoy you, if you were being honest all you wanted was to just relax and enjoy the evening…

Even it felt fake.

Doing your business and leaving the bathroom, you noticed Johnny had a conflicting look. But when you approached he smiled at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you sat down.

“Everything okay?” You asked and he nodded, though you noticed it was stiff.

You ended up drinking, not a lot but enough to get a bit tipsy. You barely remember the car ride home, though here you are, in bed and snuggled into the blankets. You were reaching out towards Johnny’s spot but found he was not on his side of the bed. It’s cold, meaning he was gone for a while. You slowly sat up, groaning from a slight headache. You called out for him but didn’t hear an answer. You got out of bed and walked towards the living room, spotting him sitting on the couch with the table lamp on. He was staring at something, upon closer look it was the photo, your photo with your team. Your John.

You blinked once, then twice.

When did he get that?

Shit.

“What are you doing with that?” You asked, slightly on the defence.

“What am I doin’ with it? What are ye doing with this? What am I even lookin’ at?” He asked, looking over at you his expression inconceivable.

“It's… complicated Johnny, you probably wouldn't understand.”

He went quiet after that, rubbing his face in frustration, he then stared at the photo again. You needed to figure out where to go from here. You bit the inside of your cheek in thought.

“So, are ye from the future or somethin? Because that's what it looks like… we all look older in this photo… Plus why the hell are you in this photo anyway?” Johnny spoke up finally after a long silence.

“No… it's complicated…”

“Then enlighten me!” You could hear him getting frustrated.

“Fine… I'm… not from here, I don't know how to explain it! One moment I was someplace else then the next thing I know I'm here, in Scotland… In a hospital with someone who looks like my husband but isn't!” you didn't mean to sound so harsh, but all your feelings were bursting out.

“But I am yer husband, didn't you tell me ye were dreamin’ while in that coma?” Johnny tried reasoning.

“I lied, at first I thought maybe it was all a dream but how do you explain the photo and this? I know for a fact I wasn't dreaming I had a completely different life,” You pulled out the ring, showing him the engraved dates.

He stared at the ring, at the dates that were engraved then at the photo. He seemed a bit distant, thinking, processing.

“Is that why whenever I look at ye… It feels like I've lost someone… lost my Bonnie,” Johnny lamented. You were caught off guard by that. But you couldn't deny that you also felt a huge loss whenever you thought of John. The two of you stayed silent, grieving but didn't want to think about why. You refused to think your John didn't survive that explosion.

“I… guess you could say I'm from an alternate universe, god… that's even more confusing but makes the most sense” you decided to change the subject. Johnny finally looked up at you, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Aye… that sounds crazy… maybe-” he didn't finish his sentence but you knew he was probably still trying to find a reasonable answer. You couldn't blame him and this is exactly the reason you didn't bring it up. You decided to take a different approach.

“That photo was taken on a joint mission with Task Force 141 and Delta force, we were going after this guy named Vladimir Makarov, Intel claimed he was in this facility in Ukraine but he wasn't and it ended up being a trap… That's when John or my Soap, I guess I should say, got injured and Price was captured,” you explained. You were starting to sweat a bit, speaking that mission out loud sounded insane. It sure did catch Johnny's attention though. A dark look crossed his face at the mention of Vladimir Makarov but it quickly faded.

“Huh…” was all Johnny managed to get out, it was a hell of a story. You could tell he needed more convincing.

“Well, one person in that photograph isn't alive… Ghost, along with another member Roach were shot by a man named Shepherd…” Your eyebrows furrowed and you frowned deeply.

“Betrayed by him and his shadow company…” you seethed. That seemed to make Johnny perk up. From the looks of it, that story of yours seemed to hit a little too close to home. He gave you a thoughtful look albeit a concerned look.

“Well, shite… that just all but confirms your theory… But the question remains why are ye here? And how come yer body in yer time stayed there?”

“I don't know… it's not like I have the answers. I was literally on a mission to assassinate Makarov but then an explosion went off behind us and I ended up in that hospital.” You explained.

“Ye know… that sounds similar to what happened to my spouse, well they didn't work in the military but there was an accident that involved both me and them, they ended up taking most of the damage which is why they put you in a coma… but you already knew that,” he mumbled that last part.

“I wonder if that's related… but that still doesn't explain why I'm here…” You crossed your arms, sitting opposite from him on the couch. You stared at your reflection on the TV for a moment, observing your new skin, you often didn't look at yourself for too long. You found it troublesome and dare you say uncanny.

This whole situation was confusing, but you found some comfort now that Johnny knew and seemed to believe you. You did grow fond of him over the couple of months you've been here. It was slow, sure, unfairly comparing him to your John but you quickly came to realize that although they might share the same name and hair- they were different. That also made you realize something else though, something unpleasant.

"Johnny… I understand if you want me to leave, I am technically wearing your spouse's face..." you suddenly spoke. Johnny turned to look at you with a bewildered look on his face, silently asking if you were for real.

“That's a way to put it…” he mumbled with a long pause before speaking again, "...But I don't want you to leave."

"...Why?" It was your turn to be bewildered now.

"Well, is it bad I still want to be with ye? I know you aren't the version of my Bonnie I married but... you're still you whether you're fighting in the big fight or here making the house a home... I loved you in both timelines,” he suddenly proclaimed, bringing a hand over to caress your cheek. There was hope that maybe this could work.

That couldn't be a bad idea.

The universe brought the two of you together for a reason.

Words: 2,337

[alovesreading]

'tis the damn season | Part 2

Summary: Christmas has been your favourite season since you met Ross MacDonald back in Year 9 when you had just moved to Wilmslow, coincidentally on the same road as him. He becomes your very best friend for the rest of high school, but when that ends, life happens and you just can't stop it. And life is certainly cruel to you and Ross. Every December is a reminder of it, somehow always bringing a chance to ruin things even more. After so many mistakes, how can you get back the times you've always cherished with the silly boy with the dimpled smile?

Word count: 12.7k

Warnings: the tiniest bit of angst.

A/N: Here it is! I hope this one makes up for that first part lolllll. Will warn you that there's a sprinkle of angst at the beginning though... Don't kill me *runs and hides* Anyway, enjoy!!!!!

Masterlist

Part 1

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“Shit,” you curse under your breath when his words hit you harder than the cold winds of December.

But maybe it’s the realisation that you just know nothing about him anymore that hits you even harder than what he has just said or the cold weather.

Entirely aware of how bad it can look, you pout up at him and add with heavy sorrow for him, “Oh Ross, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“S’alright,” Ross says with a shrug like it is nothing.

Your brows furrow, half in worry he’s bottling everything up and half in awe of the way he can cope so well with the situation—you know you could never do it.

After last year’s horrendous holiday break, when you were on your way up to Wilmslow, you had decided on making things right by everyone this year. End 2009 the right way and go into the new year with the joy of grasping onto normalcy back in a place you held dear.

It certainly did help that you have your boyfriend coming back home with you. Not alone anymore, and feeling the deep excitement for him to meet everyone you loved so much in Wilmslow.

That’s why as soon as you had managed to escape your parents and settled everything down in your room, you left your boyfriend to settle down while you ran down the stairs and up the road until you reached Ross’ house.

You certainly hadn’t expected him to turn down your idea of a double date of sorts because he and Katie weren’t together anymore. You thought that when he said he wasn’t sure it could be done, it meant you would have to make a bit more of an effort to get Ross’ friendship back.

You’re deflated by the news, thinking about how sad you are that the gifts you had gotten Katie would not make it to her in the end.

“Who’s he then?” Ross asks with a raise of his brows, bringing you back out from your thoughts.

Your mouth opens as you try to answer, but you stupidly stutter before giving him a vague answer, “Oh, erm, a classmate.”

It isn’t like you’ve come here to dump about your relationship though, and the idea of pouring facts about your boyfriend seems like poor taste after what Ross has just told you. But Ross is kind and you know he’s asking because you obviously were excited for him to meet him if you had come here to suggest going out on a double date.

It is your turn to be kind to him after two years of ruining shit with your stupidity so you let him get out of it by letting him know, “I’ve asked Matty and he said it was fine if I brought him by on Boxing day so I guess you’ll meet him properly then.”

“Right,” he nods first, but when a beat of silence goes by, he adds, “Sure.” His lips are pressed tightly together, the corners of his mouth barely lift up when he tries to fake enthusiasm as he finally adds, “Can’t wait.”

You can’t keep to yourself the shock, or better said, it’s easy for your mum to get what you’ve just found out due to how awful you feel for reminding Ross of his recent breakup, one you had no idea about.

And another thing you’ve got no idea about is that, after you tell your mum how bad you feel about what had just happened, she called Ross’ mum and invited her over for Christmas dinner the following day.

A truly horrible idea that you scold your mum about when she tells you about it the morning of the 25th.

“Mum, what?! How’s it gonna help him to have dinner with us when he’s just broken up with Katie?!”

Of course, your mother is oblivious to what you mean, “He’s gonna have company! All of us together will make him happy!”

Unfortunately, you can’t explain what had happened the past two years, the way you had behaved, and how it seems incredibly unfair to have him have Christmas dinner with you and your boyfriend in the room.

So, to try and fix the mess your mum has unknowingly made, you take it upon yourself to make sure dinner doesn’t end up in a situation like the previous two years.

You keep the pda with your boyfriend to the minimum, make sure to include Ross in every conversation—basically spend most of the time boasting about the guys’ band to your boyfriend—, and keep asking Ross and his parents all about how they’re doing.

Ross is smiling and participating in conversation, which you really appreciate and you relax a bit halfway through dinner when noticing that Ross is doing far better than you had ever done with Katie.

And it’s then that guilt starts creeping back up.

But the thing that you don’t know is that Ross is just good at acting and putting on a smile, because seeing your boyfriend’s hand on your thigh all throughout dinner and the way he takes every opportunity he can to kiss your cheek, is killing him.

Ross gets it then. He gets why it had been so hard for you to keep your feelings to yourself back when you met Katie. Because he can feel that horrendous burn rising up his throat, burning in his chest every glance that he takes at you and sees that the reason for every smile and giggle is the lad beside you.

You have always had a hard time not letting your every thought show on your expression, Ross took the piss about it so often, though he really appreciated it because it meant he always knew what was going through your head.

However, he had the ability to hide everything behind a blank face or a half smile and not be questioned about it.

Exactly like in this very moment when he’s half smiling into his cup of cider as both your parents—as if they hadn’t met him already when they went down to London during summer break—and his parents grill your boyfriend with loads of questions that the poor bloke stutters to answer most of the time.

His fingers clutch the cup tighter every time he hears him call you baby, and he dies a bit more inside when he sees your boyfriend mumble “I love you,” in your ear when you come to his defence after your dad makes a stupid joke about him that has you gasping.

“Love you too,” you reciprocate and give him a quick peck to which everyone coos.

Everyone but Ross.

Ross, who settles you are both even now, who tries washing down the bitter taste of jealousy with more cider until your dad brings out a bottle of whiskey and opens it for everyone to enjoy, and it is then that the bassist starts gulping down the dark alcohol with an ease that your dad jokes about.

What he doesn’t know is that it burns every time Ross takes a gulp back, his throat raw and aching, but the feeling is just strong enough to overcome the horrendous way seeing you this happy and in love makes him feel.

Such an idiot, Ross thinks about himself. He’s an absolute fucking fool.

And then, your mum is calling it’s time for Christmas pictures and when you and your boyfriend go first and the first time your mum presses the shutter is when your boyfriend kisses you under the mistletoe, Ross can’t take it any longer and he excuses himself to walk back home alone.

It isn’t until he has thrown himself on his bed, groaning about how he feels like he’s gonna be sick all over his sheets, that he realises he’s walked out before even getting a picture with you.

Ross falls asleep thinking he needs to make it up to you on Boxing day when you bring your boyfriend over to Matty’s.

“Hope she isn’t too much of a handful,” George jokes when they all fall into easy conversation and banter with your boyfriend.

“She’s a good handful,” your boyfriend jokes, letting his hand fall down to your ass and squeezing it with eager fingers.

You gasp and push him off you while he cackles loudly, the room follows along. A choir of laughter around the place from the lads and their own girlfriends, though the deep rich laughter from Ross is missing.

Your gaze sweeps the room until it falls on him and you give him an apologetic smile. He offers you a tight lip grin and a shake of his head, like he’s trying to say it’s okay.

Nothing really is because with every minute that passes and he sees how well your boyfriend gets along with everyone, Ross dies a little inside. And, in spite of how lovely Boxing day is going, he can’t find himself enjoying the togetherness like he usually does.

An invitation is made for your boyfriend to join you for the gig the band is playing at a pub in Manchester tomorrow night.

Enthusiastically, you both accept and when you go back home, you can’t stop smiling at the prospect of these two sides of your life merging with an ease that makes your heart swell.

You’re early to the gig, since you had convinced your boyfriend to take the chance to go around Manchester before you were due at the pub to see your friends, and you chat with the boys as they set up in a makeshift stage.

At the start of December, their manager Jamie had founded Dirty Hit, a label of his own so he could finally sign the band himself.

You are so unbelievably proud of your boys, tears well up your eyes watching them perform flawlessly on that stage: smiling so hard at Matty’s passion when singing, the funny faces George has always made when playing the drums, the clever riffs Adam managed to play easily and, of course, the suave Ross had when playing that bass.

You, amongst the almost sixty people in that pub, are entranced by them and you sing along the songs you’ve witnessed being written, put together and practised throughout the years.

When they play ‘Robbers’, you can’t help but cry. The memories it brings to you are so overwhelming, your boyfriend ends up hugging you from behind to soothe you as you sing along to the incredible lyrics Matty had somehow come up with at 18, the summer before you went off to university, when everything was alright.

Ross catches a glimpse of you and his heart aches when seeing the tears rolling down your face. The hurt only gets stronger when your boyfriend is the one to wipe them off your cheeks.

He brings his gaze forward again but when he’s unable to clear his thoughts by focusing on a stranger’s face, he lets his head hang and his eyes fall on his fingers playing the strings of his bass.

The same one he had shown off to you the first time you had gone to his house on Boxing day and you stayed there, perched on his bed as you watched him show off his skills on the instrument.

Ross isn’t sure then how much longer he can cope with this, seeing you smitten with somebody else, craving their touch and not his, needing their company and not his.

He’s so relieved when you go back home with your boyfriend after the gig, swiftly getting yourself out of a night of drinks with the guys since you have plans for the next morning that you can’t get out of.

The hangover Ross nurses the following day is entirely worth it for he managed to drown his sorrows with alcohol without being questioned about it, he hid it behind being overly enthusiastic about a new year with a now signed band, the one thing they had been dreaming since they properly formed the band in 2002.

But it doesn’t matter that he had managed to conceal his real feelings and intentions behind drinking that night, for when New Year’s Eve comes around, he’s entirely transparent as he knocks back glass after glass from the moment you arrive at Matty's.

Unlike a year ago, it is time for Ross to get plastered since he’s totally incapable of coping with you being all over your boyfriend now that alcohol is in your system and, since you’ve seen Ross’ reactions for the past few days and you have assumed the bassist is entirely fine with everything, you don’t have to hold back anymore.

For a miraculous change, George is the one to take care of Ross when midnight approaches and he just can’t stay in the room to watch what he knows will happen the second the countdown reaches one.

Ross’ body reacts on its own when he hears the room he’s left erupt in a chorus of “Happy New Year!” and he rushes to the nearest bathroom to be sick when the ruckus of greetings change for one of whistles and teasing, a confirmation that you’re definitely kissing your boyfriend like you had kissed Ross all those years ago.

Hiding away in the bathroom, Ross spends the rest of the night there, sitting against the door and ignoring every knock and attempt of opening it.

He wakes up passed out on the bathroom floor the next morning, wishing he had drunk even more to forget why he had been drinking to begin with. But not even drinking more would’ve helped with him avoiding seeing you and your boyfriend cuddling on one of the settees when he walks out to leave the Healy's house.

When you come knocking on his door later that day, he groggily answers the door. Your goodbye hits him like a gut punch but, despite being sad about seeing you go, he can’t help being a little relieved his chest doesn’t have to ache to the sight of you in love anymore.

At least not until next Christmas.

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Around May of 2010 you graduated university.

That nightmare was finally over and the only good thing that had come out of it other than your degree, and the fact that you managed to land a job before graduating, was that you weren’t alone anymore.

Your mum and dad went down to London for the ceremony and it brought tears to your eyes to see them in the crowd as you walked onto the stage to get your diploma. Loads of pictures had been taken and though you felt elated, overflowing with joy, it wasn’t until you finally had time to check your phone and see the messages your friends from back home had sent you that you felt complete.

Adam’s message had made you coo and tear up, whilst George and Matty’s messages made you laugh like an idiot. Ross’ message had made you smile nostalgically, a tear slipping down your cheek when you had read it again.

Cannot believe you’re graduating today, sweetheart. So incredibly proud of you :)) You were always the smartest one of us after all. Hope you’re having the best time celebrating yourself today, you’re fucking brilliant Y/N/N. Love you lots, see you soon I hope xx

Truth was, your parents had invited him along but he had declined, excusing it on work and something band related that your mum and dad didn’t ask too much about. Still, they were sad they couldn’t surprise you with Ross’ presence on such a big day.

Ross had really regretted his decision when you posted a bunch of pictures of your graduation day to your Facebook page. Though, the ones where your boyfriend was right next to you reminded him just why he had said no.

He was a coward, he wouldn’t deny it if he were to be called out for it but he was doing it for the best of the situation, for the best of your friendship—or at least to the bits of it that still lingered to which he was holding onto tightly.

Because somehow, despite how the last Christmas time had turned out for himself, Ross found himself holding onto the hope that everything would be alright this year when you came back home for the holidays. And there was a little annoying voice inside his head that laughed at himself for it, but he was holding onto you desperately, like water in his hands, hoping you wouldn’t slip fully through his fingers.

So he had held on and on, day after day, onto that hope until December was around the corner and when a text of yours came through to the group chat you had with the guys, that hope plummeted down and shattered on the floor.

Guys I’ll be spending the holidays in London so please don’t worry about a present for me this year. I promise I will make this up to you very soon!! Miss yous so much and love yous even more!! xx

The first feeling that shows is sadness. Ross frowns, reading your message over and over, his heart sinking and settling on the pits of his stomach as despair overcomes him. He really had spoiled the only chance he would get this year of seeing you, just because he hadn’t really wanted to see you with your boyfriend again.

But now, all he can think is that he’s willing to endure that horrendous jealousy and anguish just to see you again. And he’s especially desperate because it's Christmas! It’s your time of the year, your and Ross’ time, or at least that’s what it had always been until 2007.

Ross wants to pull his hair out of his head then, not only dreading having to spend this season without even seeing you from afar, but just from being reminded of how this will be the fourth year in a row where something has happened and shaken the dynamic you had shared and cherished since 2002.

And then, nosy Matty asks why you’re staying in London because it’s certainly very rude of you to abandon your best friends in the entire world to spend the holidays in the south—that’s exactly what the curly headed boy sends on the group chat.

Which prompts you to answer with a string of laughing emojis and then the truth: you’re spending the holidays with your boyfriend’s family this year.

Reading that message is what turns Ross’ sadness into anger in a split second.

Because you’re breaking the promise you had made before you left for uni, the promise you had swore to never break when Sara, Danielle, and Jodie eventually did.

Hope is gone. A tiny lit flame that has just been blown out and there’s nothing left of it but the string of smoke rising up into the air.

Ross knows this is it then, the end of it all.

He could’ve never predicted it would take eight years to lose you entirely, and he sort of wishes he could warn his past self so he could shield himself from anything he could develop for you when you first met.

He chucks his phone somewhere on his bed, fully ignoring any other messages coming into the group chat afterwards.

Nothing mattered anymore.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

It certainly is a shock to see you walking out of the house when Ross is walking back to his from the shops.

Matty had sent him out to buy decorations for the New Year’s Eve party because, suddenly, he decides the party needs to be a proper one with decorations and props and cone hats and silly 2012 shaped glasses that definitely don’t look feasible to look through.

So he’s toying with the frame of one of the glasses, thinking about how quickly 2011 has gone by, when he sees you walking out of your house with a skip in your step.

Since there was no message on the group chat, he didn’t really know if you were coming back home or not.

Not that he cared.

At least, that’s what Ross had been telling himself.

But it’s clear he indeed cared because when your eyes fall on him and a gorgeous smile breaks on your face, there’s a hint of relief that floods his system.

“Ross! Hey!” You are wary of the distance that’s there between you, not only physically because he’s still yet to cross the road towards you but also emotionally because you two haven’t spoken at all in the entirety of the year.

Well, you had if the short birthday messages you sent the other counted.

“Hi, Y/N. Y’alright?” he finally asks when he crosses the road and stands just a few metres away from you.

You nod, “Amazing. You?”

“Pretty good.”

You hum because he doesn’t sound so sure about it. Your eyes fall on the bag in his hand, catching the look of the New Year’s themed goods.

“Those look nice. Matty’s decorating this year?”

Ross chuckles softly, “Yes, apparently the party needs to be proper from now on.”

You snort at that and roll your eyes at the image of Matty saying that in your head. He was so annoying, you truly adored him. “Ha, right. Well, I’ll see you then!”

Wow what a good lengthy chat, Ross thought sarcastically. Still, he didn’t let how that made him feel show. With a soft smile, he nods and says, “See ya’,” before resuming his walk and making it back home.

He makes a great effort not to look down the road to see where you’re heading. That quick, awkward chat is enough to know where you stand and in what state your friendship is. Gone.

Ross comes to terms with the fact that it just will never be the same. It’s all gone: you, the holidays you’ve grown to love, all the traditions that only entailed the two of you.

It hurts his chest and he wonders if it hurts yours as well.

He doesn’t even see you the day after, on the 25th. There’s nothing delivered to his house—your mum had done it the year before, but the lack of it this year meant the official loss of that tradition—and since your boyfriend and his family are over at yours, or so Ross’ mum told him, the MacDonalds leave your family to it and don’t interrupt by sending anything over to your house.

The next time Ross sees you is at Matty’s on Boxing day, which goes as smoothly as it can. It’s only refreshing to have the rest of the boys there along with their girlfriends, and little Louis Healy is a funny distraction from the turmoil that clouds Ross’ brain when in the same room as you and your boyfriend.

When New Year’s Eve comes, alcohol makes for that miraculous distraction instead, but this time he’s more careful about it. Not blacking out but, instead, numbing himself with every drink until the countdown happens and seeing you and your boyfriend sharing a passionate kiss doesn’t make him want to run into oncoming traffic.

You leave on the 3rd of January this time, giving your boyfriend’s family and your own time to enjoy the start of the year together.

This time, when Ross answers the front door after hearing incessant knocking and he sees you standing there with a soft smile and a goodbye on the tip of your tongue, saying goodbye back feels more significant.

As he says goodbye, still half hiding behind the door, it feels like he’s bidding farewell to your friendship and all you two ever were.

What you never had been.

Ross wonders then if things would’ve been different if he had done something about the two of you when he kissed you under the mistletoe in 2006, how you two could be in such a different place if he had made a move after kissing you when the clock struck midnight at the very start of 2007.

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

The first week of August 2012, the first official music project by the band came out. It was a bit odd knowing the boys had an official name now, but The 1975 sounded fucking brilliant—you had assured Matty of it when he sent you a picture of it freshly tattooed below his Mortal Kombat tattoo saying that he had gotten the new name tattooed so he wasn’t allowed to change his mind anymore.

You had gone to the closest HMV to your office and bought the CD, sending a picture of it to the guys on your group chat and gushing over how fucking good it was after you had listened to it four times in one sitting.

And you had gone just as crazy when November rolled around and on the 19th the Sex EP came out. A quick message was sent in the middle of your short lunch break, you’d written it with the biggest smile on your face.

Holy shit guys, that was incredible!!!! I’m so unbelievably proud of yous :’’)) Who would’ve thought you’d go from changing your band name every other month to having two stunning EPs out!!! I need yous to sign my new CD!! Cannot wait to see you brilliant, talented lot on Christmas. Love youuuuu!!! xxxxx

It was odd that after all that time, Ross could still hear your voice in his head saying all that while he read it. Like he just can’t truly let go of you, and a flicker of hope that still lives inside him then becomes obvious, he can’t help but think, maybe, just maybe, you won’t miss Christmas at home this year like he’s been expecting you to all year long.

It felt almost like he had been holding his breath since that notion became apparent in his mind, the anticipation of not really knowing if his hopes were gonna lead him to be disappointed or if he would actually be right.

Ross lets out a sigh of relief when he walks out of his house and he catches a glimpse of you walking in through the front door of your parent’s house with a bag in hand.

He’s not aware of what he’s doing until his quick strides lead him all the way up to your front door and he’s harshly knocking on it.

You’ve barely been able to shout hello to your mum, who’s upstairs, and let your dad take your bag up to your room when you’re startled by the knocking.

Turning around on your heels, it’s merely two steps you take until you can grab the handle and turn it to open the door and show a speechless and surprisingly enthused Ross bundled up in a cosy flannel coat and a beanie, the tip of his nose tinting pink from the cold, and his cheeks matching the shade.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him. You have no idea why he’s just standing here, how on Earth he had managed to know exactly when you would arrive or if he had been expecting you, but you can’t stop the need to feel him closer than this the second you see him.

Basically throwing yourself into him, you gasp and wrap your arms around his waist, his arms coming to envelop you in a hug over your shoulders and you melt into him completely.

“Oh my god. I missed you so much,” you whisper into his ear.

His heart squeezes in his chest, leaving him weak enough to admit, “Me too. So much.”

He knows it’s not time for inquiries but he’s honestly taken aback by the fact that you’re here so his questions leave him without him wanting them to, “Are you okay? How’s London treating you? How’s your boyfriend, is he spending it here again?”

Those are heavy questions, lots to explain that just leave you without a word to utter. Except for the last question. That situation’s status was clear enough that you pull back and take a deep breath to be able to answer through the pain of thinking about it, “No. Ermm, we broke up.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t–,” Ross starts apologising but when he sees your chin start to wobble and tears filling your eyes, he pulls you back into him as he says, “Don’t cry, C’mere.”

“It’s all my fault,” you can’t help but admit. Not really about the breakup, that was certainly not your fault if you looked at the bigger picture, but the horrendous pain that fills you when you think about how your attempts to fill the emptiness from being away from home had crumbled down and left you feeling even lonelier than ever. You shake with a sob in Ross’ arms and admit, finally, “I hid so much from you guys.”

The confusion in his breathy, “What?” is clear and you know this is the right moment to just come clean about everything, before this opportunity leaves you like a train does a station.

“Do you…” you sniffle as you pull back to look at him.

God, you must look like a mess and a right idiot. Ross thinks that despite how his heart is breaking seeing you this upset, he’s never seen a person more beautiful.

“Do you wanna come in?” you suggest, thumb pointing behind you into a house he hasn’t stepped foot inside since Christmas day 2009, 3 years ago. “I feel like I owe you a lot of truths.”

Carefully, he nods and that’s when you put your hand out for him to hold and walk into the house.

Electricity runs to his fingertips where he holds you, painfully aware of how your absence has made your proximity now erupt a wave of feelings inside him that he had thought were gone.

Once he’s inside the house, you close the door. He expects you to guide him to the living room but, to his surprise, you take him up the stairs and into your room.

Even your dad is surprised to see Ross in the house after all this time for he stops in his tracks when he sees the now very tall lad walking hand in hand with you on the way to your room, which he’s leaving after leaving your bag neatly on top of your bed.

“Oh hello, Ross. Missed seeing you around here, kid.”

Ross smiles but before he can respond to your dad’s greeting, you speak out, “Thanks for helping me with the bag dad. I’m gonna chat with Ross for a bit if you don’t mind.”

Your dad notices the tears in your eyes then, with the slight waver of your voice so he knows this is a serious matter and he nods, giving you both a smile before walking past you into his room where your mum’s still hiding. She must be really entertained with what she’s doing since she hasn’t run to your room to crush you in a hug like she always does, but you won’t complain right now because it seems like everything is about to spill out of your mouth.

Closing your room’s door behind you, Ross makes his way into your room when you drop his hand. He sits at the edge of your bed and you do the same, looking into his eyes for a second before letting your gaze drop to your lap, where you fiddle with your fingers nervously.

A sigh leaves you.

This is it then.

Looking back up at him, you take in his worried expression and start telling him everything. How you knew university would be hard from the very second you moved into your dorm. How you had been so horribly homesick, you got depressed and had to talk to a therapist on campus for quite a while. The amount of times you had thought of dropping out throughout the first year, but had refused to come back home empty handed and regretting giving up when you have always been academically driven.

And how, despite your efforts, the second year had been just as bad.

You couldn’t make friends but not by lack of trying, it was harsher in uni to find people you felt in tune with when everyone was so focused on themselves and the groups established there were far more stronger than in high school; so many people knew each other from school already, it felt like trying to be friends with them was causing a disturbance to their friendships.

And then you came back to London from Wilmslow, that time Ross had told you to go back and you had left right after the gift exchange at Matty’s, and you met this guy. He gave you just the amount of attention and kindness to lure you in and grow attached to him after craving proper human connection for so long.

He had become your boyfriend easily, because he gave you attention and made you feel needed, despite both of those notions having meant in a sexual way more times than not.

It wasn’t the best relationship and you knew that, but you would take anything, even if faulty, just to not feel alone like you had the two previous years again.

So you made due with what you had and fell in love with him, though you knew he didn’t feel the same as you did, and if he ever did say it was just because he wanted to keep you. For convenience really, because if he said he wanted you, you would drop anything for him, even if you didn’t want to say yes, you did because you feared being left alone.

And then he realised he could make you stay by reminding you how badly you had been going through it before he appeared into your life, and now you could point out how emotionally manipulative he had been, but right then, it had gone right past your head.

That was why it had been so easy for him to cheat before you two graduated, and it had been even easier for him to get you to forgive him. He would say you wouldn’t survive without him, without his love, without his presence in your life; he reminded you just how far away everyone was, how you had lied and kept things to yourself so no one worried and how selfish of you it would be to call and talk about yourself and your issues which you could resolve easily, just by forgiving him and taking him back.

So like a brainless fool, you did.

And then you graduated and you moved in with him, and though you had a job of your own, he convinced you to do everything for him. His kisses, the sex, the cuddles, him making time for you, it all was your reward. Showing you affection had become a reward for you keeping the flat clean, cooking meals and paying half the rent, it had become something to exchange for your efforts rather than something that came with a loving relationship.

You knew he had cheated at least twice after that first time but kept quiet. You knew, but the only thing you could do was ask him to wear a condom every time you fucked, just because that was the last bit of love and concern you had for yourself.

That was until a few weeks before your birthday, when you got off work early because you were feeling a bit poorly and the feverish, dizzy feeling that overcame you was enough for your boss to send you home immediately.

It had been nothing compared to the feeling that washed over you when you quietly came into the flat and walked blindly down the hall to your bedroom, only to find your boyfriend balls deep in some girl.

Your horrified gasp and confused mumbling wasn’t enough for him to stop, instead he kicked you out of the room and you left running back to the living room where you stood almost dry heaving as you replayed the moment over and over again, wanting to be sick but not being brave enough to walk up to the bathroom with how close to the bedroom it was.

Still, he took a fair few minutes to come out of the bedroom and face you. From what you heard, you knew he hadn’t even taken the consideration to stop and had chosen to finish before he could even begin to explain what was going on.

Not that it needed explaining, really.

But it was the absolute lack of remorse in his face when he came out to the living room that brought you out of the hypnosis he had caught you in for so long. The fact that he hissed through his teeth why the fuck you had come home so early. The fact that he sounded more apologetic to the girl than to you, his girlfriend of three and a half years.

And it was the realisation that you would rather feel this hurt because of breaking up with him than because he was trying to convince you that it had been nothing and you could forgive him yet again.

So you did. You broke up with him that very second. Going to the bedroom, which made you feel even more disgustingly nauseous, you quickly packed everything you had there in a big suitcase you had thankfully kept. All that you had in there as best as you could and the rest shoved in a big bag of yours that didn’t fit inside the case.

You had felt more alone than ever, without your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend now—, without any friends because all of your friends had been his first and you knew he would manipulate them enough to make them switch on you the second they found out, without a roof to live under.

But you felt free, oddly, and it was that which drove you to call up one of your co-workers and ask for their help.

Emma was the sweetest and let you stay in her flat for the week and a half it took you to find a place you could rent. You hadn’t been exactly choosy with it, just going off necessity and settling for the better most convenient option, both for your pocket and the proximity to your job.

So you were now living in some shitty flat in a very unsafe area in London, but it was close to the tube station and it was only a thirty minute commute to your office, which you were growing to appreciate.

It was the fact that for the first time in a while you felt like your own person that made you smile on the daily.

And now the fact that you had finally come clean about everything to one of the most important people in your life.

Ross is speechless. He’s lost his breath with every bit that you’ve told him, and yet the way that you fully leave him stupefied and unable to breathe is the smile that you give him when you’re done with your story.

That toothy grin he has missed so much, accompanied with your tear stained cheeks and glassy eyes.

His heart is utterly broken for you, someone so beautiful inside and out being absolutely destroyed and mishandled by people who never appreciated you for who you truly are, stuck in a situation that you kept shut because you’re selfless like that.

Ross feels like his heart had been shattered in a million pieces, but he feels a new wave of heartache when he remembers how cruel and unfair he had been to you when, unbeknownst to him and everyone else, you were going through such a nightmare.

He wants to bang his head against a wall.

But not more than he wants to crush you in a hug and tell you it’ll be alright now.

So he does.

His arms feel heavenly around you, melting into his chest and hiding in his neck comes to you like second nature just how it had always been back then, before everything happened.

You can’t help but cry, and though some of your tears come from the ache in your chest, most of them are spilled because you feel relieved that you can shed yourself of the weight of everything that you’ve been keeping to yourself, relieved that you can mend things back home and you can try and get back those friendships you have always cherished.

Ross doesn’t let you go, not when you calm yourself down and stop crying, not when you yawn and rub your tired eyes, not when it starts getting dark out.

He’s hesitant to let you go when you go to move your bag out of your bed so you can lay down. But he follows when you pat the spot next to yours on the mattress.

His arms wrap around you and he pulls you closer to him. You two haven’t done this in so long, it’s hard to even point out when was the last time you cuddled, but your legs tangle with an ease that makes your heartbeats stutter.

With eyes fluttering as you two succumb to slumber, the last thing you remember before falling asleep is the feeling of Ross’ lips pressing on top of your head.

“I had missed this,” you admit groggily when you wake up to his fingers rubbing circles on your lower back.

The darkness of your room envelopes you like a blanket, pale moonlight sneaking through your blinds to give you the faintest bit of sight.

You can barely make out the dimples on his cheeks as he smiles down at you with a puffy face and sleepy eyes, “I missed you.”

Whole. That’s how you feel when he says that with a warm conviction that melts your insides. You hum, “Yeah. Me too.”

A knock on your door makes the two of you look in the direction of it, and slowly peeling it open, your mum peeks her head through to smile at you.

“Haven’t seen you like that in ages,” she recalls with a coo. “You two are so grown up now.”

You smile just by remembering the pictures your mum would take of the two of you cuddling on the settee after falling asleep watching a film. The nostalgia makes you wish she would take a picture right now just so you could compare it to them.

“Sorry to interrupt darlings, you two look cosy, but could you do me a favour?”

That’s how you end up at the shops with Ross, giggling as you walk through the aisles trying to find the things your mum had forgotten to get on her last shopping trip for tomorrow’s dinner.

It’s hard not to get distracted when you walk around, seeing all the Christmas sweets and treats, even harder when Ross makes you laugh as you go about the place and you keep forgetting what it is that you’re looking for.

“Hey, you better not forget these,” he jokes, grabbing a bag of potatoes that he ends up placing in your basket.

It’s hard hugging Ross goodbye after you come back from the shops and put everything away together, but it makes you so incredibly happy to know that it feels normal again—your arms around each other feel like finding your way back home after getting lost on the way.

You go to bed feeling content, the smell of him lingers on your pillows and you nuzzle your face on them with a loopy smile on your face.

It is when you wake up and go downstairs for breakfast that you properly feel giddy, though, because your mum tells you she called Ross’ mum and they had agreed to have Christmas dinner together.

A loud kiss is smacked on your mum’s cheek at the news and she smirks as she looks at your dad when you run to the kitchen to see if you had all the ingredients to make some type of dessert, leaving your coffee to get cold on the dining table.

Having the MacDonalds over is a joy, as per usual, with Ross’ mum being the loveliest person ever and Ross’ dad making you all laugh hysterically, dinner goes wonderfully.

Everything’s tasty, warm in your bellies and your hearts with the hours you all spend together. Nothing feels more right than this very moment.

And then your mum springs up her chair and calls, “Time for pictures!”

Just like you’ve known to do since the very first time, you and Ross move to the bottom of the stairs right beneath where your mum always hangs the mistletoe. The sight makes Ross smile brightly, his eyes crinkling at the edges and dimples pinching his cheeks beautifully.

Your mum frowns at her film count on display as she takes the camera close to her face, “I’ve got one in here, so I’ll take the first and then go get another pack of film to take the rest.”

You bite your tongue not to smile too brightly when it reminds you of a certain moment, years ago.

As your mum takes the camera up to her eyes, Ross wraps an arm tightly around your waist, fingers digging on your clothed flesh as he presses you flush to his side. You wrap an arm around his waist and just as you’re about to rest your head on his shoulder to pose for the camera, your heart begs you to do something else.

You turn to look at him and pucker your lips to press them on his cheek. Your mum captures just the moment bliss breaks out on his face, melting his smile into a parted mouth as he exhales a sigh in content at the feeling of your lips on his skin.

The second the whirring of the polaroid printing out sounds, you pull back and he peels his eyes open to look at you with adoration, or so you think from the way his brown eyes gleam as he looks into yours.

You have to separate when your mum walks in between you to run upstairs to get some more film, all the while she’s shaking the just printed picture in her hand.

Suddenly, Ross blinks and he’s back in 2006, when your mum was making a mess upstairs as she looked for a new pack of film and he finally got the courage to cup your face and actually kiss you under the mistletoe like he had been wanting for so long.

It’s a memory that flashes on both your minds in that moment, and it’s written all over your faces.

Your mouth parts in anticipation and he carefully brings up his hands to your face, holding it delicately as he starts leaning in.

It’s stupid, and maybe way too fast on his part but he can’t have you looking all beautiful standing in front of him and under the mistletoe and not kiss you. You’re magnetising and he can’t fight the power you have over him, he’s so entranced he just wants you close.

This time it is different, it feels more intense. Not desperate, because the second your lips meet in the middle, it’s not like you lose control and try to quicken the kiss. It just feels way more intent, it’s deliberate and with so much more meaning now. You have each other back and the pieces of the puzzle fall into place perfectly just like the slotting of your lips together.

You’re the one to deepen the kiss as your tongue pokes out to tease his bottom lip and you lick into his mouth when he parts it to welcome you.

A hum reverberates through his chest when you taste each other, and he swallows a soft moan that you let out at the feeling of his beard brushing against the soft skin of your face as you two move rhythmically in a kiss that leaves you dazed.

When Ross pulls back, your breaths mix as you pant out, lips so close together, noses brushing. He drops one last peck on your lips before saying, “Had to do it properly.”

Your mum’s footsteps echo through the hall as she dashes back downstairs with a new film pack in her camera, ready to snap away.

In the pictures you can clearly see your swollen wet lips, but no one comments on it when your mum lets you two see the results of the quick photoshoot she’s just thrown for the two of you. Heat rushes up to your face, just like Ross'. You almost wanna coo and pinch his cheeks at the sight of him flustered like that.

It’s fair to say you’re both incredibly smiley when you go back to the dining room to share hot chocolate and the cookies you had made earlier. You half regret not making the same ones you had made the year you had met Ross, but it’s all fine when Ross says, “Delicious as always, sweetheart.”

You wanna pounce on his lips when he finally goes back to calling you that again.

There’s no way you can stop your lips from falling into a pout when it’s time for Ross and his parents to go. You almost want to convince them to stay a bit longer but you already had and they’d stayed an additional hour than they’d planned.

Ross’ mum and dad hug you tightly, wishing you a merry Christmas and saying that they hope you like your present, as if you haven’t loved every single one they’ve ever given you throughout the years.

When it’s time for Ross to hug you, he makes it a show of almost crushing your bones as he does so. Swaying in your place, your parents laugh behind you as the two of you cling onto each other like you haven’t done in years.

Neither set of parents have it in them to tease or complain because they’ve missed witnessing it.

But perhaps, the biggest shock of all is that when Ross pulls back after wishing you a merry Christmas, he presses his lips on yours on a sweet chaste kiss that makes the four adults around you loudly gasp and, therefore, make you and Ross become flustered like a pair of kids caught holding hands in the playground.

And just like a kid, Ross peels himself away from you and quickly escapes back home with his parents following behind him, leaving you foolishly stunned and wide eyed.

When the front door finally closes, it is your mum saying, “Finally!” that makes you snap out of your trance.

The loopy smile stays on your face as you open presents, though.

Blindly, you pick up your phone when it rings on your bedside table the next morning. You don’t even read who it is as you answer it so your shock makes you open your eyes wide when you hear Ross’ voice on the other side of the line.

He says he’s been texting you to ask if you wanted to hang out, and truthfully you just wanna sleep in a little longer, but you also wanna have his presence.

Who says you couldn’t have both?

You let him know he can come over, whispering as you tell him to ring you when he’s outside because your house is quiet as your parents still sleep.

He surprises you when he says he’s already at your door.

With your eyes still heavy with sleep, you make it downstairs, still in your pyjamas, and when you open the door, you grab his hand to drag him upstairs and into your room.

There’s not even a chance for him to greet you with a hello when you get back in bed and lift the sheets on the empty side for him to get under them and join you.

Ross doesn’t take more than a few seconds to take off his shoes and shed himself off his coat, getting in your bed and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you into him and let you cuddle yourself into him.

You basically sleep until your stomach growls as you become hungrier the more you’ve been ignoring it most of the morning, pushing aside your basic human needs to stay a little longer in Ross’ arms.

He brings you the cookies that were left from yesterday in a little plate and a glass of water, at your request, whilst you go to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

When you come back into your room, you shove one cookie into your mouth before starting your gift show and tell.

A warmth spreads through the both of you as you show him the most mundane and unimpressive gifts you’ve gotten, except for the pretty little necklace his parents got you of course, but it makes you laugh how since the last time you had done this, your presents went from an iPod mini, books and pretty dresses, to a pair of fuzzy socks and a set of floral pattern baking utensils.

You finish getting ready after you show him your presents, and he watches your every move attentively from your bed, which he has made very quickly before throwing himself over it again.

He grabs a pillow and places it over his eyes when you go to lift up your pyjama shirt, it’s not like you haven’t changed in front of the other before, but it’s been so long that he feels the need to offer you privacy.

He hears you snort at him as you sort through your wardrobe for a shirt, a jumper and a pair of jeans. And he smiles into the pillow when you mumble, “Silly,” as you finish buttoning your jeans.

“You can look now,” you say as you finish putting your shirt on.

And Ross catches a glimpse of the skin of your stomach when he lowers the pillow back onto the mattress.

He shifts from his side to his front to hide the way you affect him. He would’ve put the pillow on his lap but it would’ve been too obvious. He hopes he has a second to adjust himself without you looking when you’re about to leave.

You offer him the biggest of smiles before turning to look at yourself in the mirror and fixing your hair, putting a bit of makeup on your face to look decent for when you go to exchange gifts with your friends at Matty’s house.

Ross is entirely entranced watching you through the mirror, he can’t stop thinking about how he’s always thought you were pretty. But somehow, with time, you’ve only grown more and more beautiful.

As if that was even possible.

You’re just unreal, truly. He can’t understand the mystery of you. And he doesn’t really need to, all he wishes to do is to witness it.

When you go downstairs, Ross follows behind a bit slower since he stayed hidden behind your door adjusting himself for a few seconds while you went ahead, you shout to your parents that you’ll be going to Ross’ and then Matty’s so you’d probably come back home after tea.

They say, “Alright, have fun!” back and you’re off.

But not before Ross catches your wrist before you can walk away from the bottom of the stairs.

You stumble into his chest and he swiftly cups your jaw, tilting your head in the perfect angle for him to lean in and catch your lips in a soft kiss that steals your breath away. It’s slow and delicate, like he’s taking in the way your lips slot perfectly together, trying to memorise how your mouths move with each other.

You’re speechless when he pulls back, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth before he points upwards, “Mistletoe.”

A scoff slips past your lips. “Didn’t know you were such a rule follower,” you tease. He’s so smooth it makes you want to scream.

He shrugs, “Depends on the rule.”

Despite the fact that you assure Ross’ mum that you’ve had breakfast—Ross snitches on you saying it was just cookies and a glass of water—, you’re fed a healthy amount of leftovers for breakfast the second you walk into the MacDonald’s home.

Only thirty minutes later, you’re upstairs in Ross’ room with a mug of hot chocolate as he shows off the gifts he got this year. Which, again, makes you laugh because it’s yet again more proof about the fact that you’re too old now and all you get is adult gifts.

You can’t help but snort when he shows off the beanie and scarf your parents got him, but ultimately admit he looks adorable all bundled up in the matching cotton set.

He wears the beanie proudly when you both walk up to Matty’s, while you have the scarf wrapped around your neck after you quickly snatched it from his room before leaving his house.

When you get to the Healy residence, it’s enough of a shock to see the two of you arriving at the same time. George is the one to ask with a frown if you had walked up there together and you nod with smiles on your faces.

Matty elbows Adam when he notices your accessories match.

The curly headed boy really tries his best to hide his curiosity but he can only last fifteen minutes into the catch up you’ve all fallen into before he asks, “Where’s your boyfriend?”

It’s a shock when you nonchalantly answer, “Oh, we broke up.”

And even more of a shock when you beam after the words leave your mouth.

Ross smiles just as big, proud of you for being so strong about that situation. No one really knows about it and it shows. Yes, you had been confiding in Matty about your struggles feeling extremely lonely in uni but you had never told him the reality about your boyfriend, knowing damn well how it looked that you got into that relationship because you were so desperate to feel something.

You had so much to tell everyone, but this wasn’t the time. Not yet.

The change in the dynamic between you and Ross is obvious, especially after consecutive years of clear, growing distance in between the two of you. But no one comments on it because they don’t want to disturb the return of a friendship that had been, from the very beginning, the core of the unity of your friend group. Even if the girls aren’t here celebrating with all of you anymore, Ross and you had been the ones to bring all of you together once upon a time, and it’s certainly refreshing for the boys to see that restored.

So when the New Year’s Eve party comes around, the group is a little more rowdy and you and Ross don’t stray far from each other’s side.

It might be because it feels like you’re all back in 2006 when you were still in high school and nothing had changed just yet, that Matty and George cause more and more ruckus. It’s certainly entertaining to watch but when George is stopped by a drunk Hann from doing a frontflip from the top of the stairs, and possibly breaking his bones, Ross pulls you outside for some peace and quiet as it’s really close to midnight.

The cold air makes you shiver and sobers you up a little, but god bless Ross MacDonald for offering you a cigarette then.

You place it between your lips and let him light it up, he struggles a bit with the strong wind but you help him by cupping your hands around the end of the stick.

Taking a long drag, you let the smoke in your lungs start to relax you and bring you the warmth you so desperately want right now.

The mess going on inside is still loud despite Ross closing the door, and suddenly, the memory of that 2006 New Year’s Eve night comes flashing back to the forefront of your mind.

“This is giving me some serious déjà vu,” you say as you hold in the smoke for a few seconds before letting it out upwards.

He knows exactly what you mean, he’s been thinking about it from the second you stepped foot in the house, but he still plays dumb, “Hmmm, really?”

You nod, taking a drag before saying, “Yeah. If I remember correctly, it was 2006 and we had come out to escape a very drunk Matty and George thrashing everything inside so we could have a calm countdown. We were sharing a fag, and the countdown started.”

As if rehearsed, you hear drunk voices loudly starting to countdown from ten inside the house.

Ten, nine, eight…

“And?” Ross pushes you to continue.

Biting your bottom lip, you try your best to hold back from smirking as you casually add, “And I said happy new year.”

He hums, “Not forgetting something?”

“Am I?” you play dumb, holding the cigarette between your fingers as you look at him.

Seven, six, five, four…

He turns to look at you, taking one little step towards you to invade your space, and nods, “I reckon, yeah.”

Your brows furrow and you cock your head to the side as you feign confusion.

“Mind refreshing my memory?”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

He pounces on your lips harshly, and it’s this time that desperation shines through the movement of his mouth on yours. His tongue doesn’t waste a second to slip past your parted lips and he groans when he tastes the tart tobacco on your tongue along with the vodka cranberry you’ve been having all night.

His trimmed beard itches your skin in a way that drives you mad and you can only think about how you would really like to get used to it. Your mind betrays you thinking about how it could feel brushing between your thighs, your arms swing around his neck and your fingers run up his scalp, making him moan into your mouth.

Three, two, one…

Your lungs burn with the lack of oxygen and you pull back, panting, but a smirk doesn’t fail to break on your face and you breathlessly quip, “Ah yes, I remember now.”

Your cheekiness has him groaning again before he dips back for another kiss, his arm wrapped so tightly around your waist that you’re pressed impossibly close to his front, you cling onto him just as passionately and let everything you’re feeling in the moment show through the way your mouth moves along with his.

Revelling in the taste of him, the feel of him.

The two of you tune out the loud drunk voices wishing each other a happy new year on the other side of the door.

“Happy New Year, sweetheart,” he says against your mouth when he pulls back slightly.

Your breaths mix, becoming one as you try to get back oxygen into your lungs. Your nails dig into his scalp, wishing for there to be a way for you to melt into him. You can think of a few ways you can even come close to becoming one with him.

Your pupils are blown when you open your eyes and look into his, “Happy New Year, Ross.”

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

The pride that swells your chest every time Ross sends you a picture of a place he and the boys are touring is impossible to explain with words.

You burst into tears every time you talk about your talented boys travelling around the world after the hit their debut album had been. The scolding you got for missing a day of work to go up to Manchester and celebrate their first number one album was definitely worth it, for celebrating their talent and the success they deserved was one of the best fucking days of your life.

After a few months of touring, the boys have finally come back home for the holidays. The 17th of December they played their last gig of the tour in some festival in Virginia, and on the 18th they had come back to their shared flat in Manchester.

So you were up in Manchester too.

“Love, you need to dial it down on the speed,” you tell Ross when you come back into the kitchen after taking your stuff to Ross’ room.

The second you got to the flat, you had been greeted with loads of hugs and kisses from the boys and far too many stories for you to hear in one afternoon. Your bag had been left forgotten by the door where you dropped it when George came running to crush you in a hug that you welcomed gracefully, and then the rest of them followed.

Ross had been quite distracting with the amount of kisses he stole before the guys gagged enough times to have him leave you alone and then they took you to the settee where they sat you down and told you all about the tour.

But then Adam’s girlfriend came over and they went off on a date, George went out to meet his girlfriend at a restaurant, and Matty was off to his parent’s house to visit them and little Louis who had been missing him loads.

That was when Ross finally had you all to himself, and despite the fact that he was itching to get you in his room, he hadn’t been able to say no to baking cookies with you first.

The same cookies you had made him and his family the day he gave you the potatoes back on Christmas day 2002. It just felt right to choose that recipe in particular.

Ross frowns as he looks at the mixer quickly, maybe too quickly, mixing the sugar and butter together, “Why? It’ll be over faster and we can go to my room.”

The smirk on his face makes you chuckle, and you shake your head as you walk up to him. “Oh, you’re awfully confident,” you tut before wrapping your arms around his neck.

He wraps his arms around your waist and dips his head to kiss you but you pull back slightly, he raises his brows in question, “Thought you had missed me.”

“I did,” you assure, your eyes falling to his lips, but you pull back again when he dips down for a kiss once more. You love to tease him you’ve found ever since you got together at the beginning of the year, and so you do, “But I think you missed me more, didn’t you?”

With that voice of yours, it’s impossible for him to deny it. He fights a groan but lets his hands fall slowly down your waist and lower back to your ass and there, he squeezes harshly as he says, “I certainly did.”

You swallow a moan but the hunger in your eyes is clear and a mirror of his, but before you can get too carried away, you let your hands run down his chest and you pat it twice before demanding, “Okay, stop it. Let’s finish this first.”

“Alright, sweetheart,” he agrees easily.

Just because it’s you. It’s hard for him to be stubborn when it’s you.

When the cookies are in the oven, he tries to distract you with those kisses of his that leave you breathless and needy, but you really have to remind yourself of the danger it would entail if you let yourself fall into your boyfriend’s charms and leave the cookies to burn.

It’s only when all three batches of them are out and on the cooling rack, which Ross definitely bought just for the times you came around and wanted to bake, that you and Ross run off to his room and make up for the time you’ve spent apart.

That’s how most of the days that you’re back together go: either tangled in between the sheets, indulging in each other’s touch and letting the devotion you feel for the other translate in your bodies becoming one, or cuddling as you watch film after film—or rewatching the three seasons of Game of Thrones, which he’s certainly obsessed with, and you definitely tease him about how much you fancy Jon Snow as if he doesn’t resemble him.

You go Christmas shopping together but split for an hour in the middle of your afternoon to buy each other your gifts, coming back giggling as you hide your gifts from the other but definitely try to guess what you’ve got as you go back to the flat.

The best time is when you’re all getting ready to go back to Wilmslow, like a big happy family you take up every seat in Matty’s car and it’s a chaotic thirty minute drive that makes your heart swell inside your chest.

The afternoon of the 24th, it is starting to snow outside and you two are cosied up on the settee with a shitty American Christmas film playing in the background as you go through your pictures throughout the years.

“Ross, look at you!” you coo loudly when you find a polaroid of him with a birthday hat on which is dated June 6th 2003. “A baby!”

He grimaces at the look of his long hair, styled to the side of his forehead and brushed down and straight like a cow had licked it, “Ugh, that’s a mess.”

You scoff and chat back, “No, you were so cute,” before going back to pouting over the picture of him.

He hadn’t started growing proper facial hair yet and he looked like a baby after he had shaved the patchy beard he always got back then. Nostalgia hits you as you remember how cute you thought he was back then and you still do. Somehow, your crush on your boyfriend only gets stronger with time.

“‘Were’?” he questions you with a raise of his brows.

You want to laugh at him for sticking to that bit of your words but swallow it to tease, “Yeah, ‘were’.”

A screech leaves you when his fingers come to mercilessly tickle your sides and you thrash around the settee as he comes to hover over you and continue his attack.

It’s a mix of shrieks and cackles and begs for him to stop that fill the room and overpower the sound of Will Ferrell’s voice, the pictures have all spilled on the floor as you kicked your legs and waved your arms around helplessly.

“Baby, stop!” you beg again and this time he listens, leaning in to press a bunch of kisses all over your face before pulling back and helping you sit back up on the settee.

The two of you start gathering the pictures from the floor then and sorting them through the years. But it is then that you notice the gap in between years, when you had been so foolish to ruin things all because of your bitterness.

The sorrowful words leave you as you flip through the handful of pictures from 2006 and the clear difference with only the few from 2007 and then the lack of them from 2008 to 2011. “So many years with no pictures…”

Ross blames it on him though, “I was an idiot.”

But you won’t let him take the blame all on his own, “Oh babe, I was too.”

He smiles sadly at the pictures but when he looks at you, his smile grows wider, “We’ll make up for it.”

His hand brushes your hair behind your ears and you nod, agreeing, “Definitely,” before kissing the palm of his hand softly.

Your boyfriend’s face melts in adoration and his voice drops an octave as he speaks, “I’m never letting you go, you know that right?”

The stupidest smile tugs at the corners of your mouth then before you reply, “I wouldn’t dream of ever leaving.”

Carefully setting the pictures aside, he shuffles closer to you and kisses you soft and sweet. His lips move on your with the same intent that his fingers dig into your cheeks.

Your hands come over his, wanting to keep his touch there, for him to never stop holding you like this and he confirms that he’ll never even think of doing it when he pulls back and mumbles against your lips, “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

The fluttering in your belly and the electricity that buzzes through you never dwindles, no matter how many times you hear him say that.

Nothing’s been easier and felt more natural in your life than saying it back, “Love you so much more, babe.”

You love telling him how much you love him and you love even more seeing his cheeks tint pink when he hears you say it. He always struggles maintaining eye contact after you let it slip past your lips like he can’t help but become putty in your hands when you utter those three words to him.

And you can’t help but giggle at the effect you have on him.

He basically throws himself forward and hides his face in your neck, but he forgets his size and strength for he makes you tumble backwards and fall on the settee with him over you, stealing your breath away.

He doesn’t move when you groan about him crushing you, he only nuzzles in your neck more and you just let it happen. Having him on top of you is your favourite feeling in the world after all, so you just let him melt over you and you even bring your hands up to his head, scratching his head and massaging his scalp. He moans and groans, getting you all flustered in the process.

You can hear his breathing evening out and his heartbeat becoming more regular, so you know he’s about to fall asleep and you smile at the thought of falling asleep like this right now, but the front door opens and your parents walk back into the house with a handful of bags each.

“Did you buy everything mum?” you ask like you have every year since the potato fiasco in 2002.

“Yes,” she calls back with an annoyed sigh like every year.

But you keep taunting her, “Didn’t forget a thing?”

She indulges you as she sing-songs, “Not one.”

You hum, continuing to play with Ross’ hair, “How about the potatoes?”

Ross smirks at your taunting and shakes his head. But then your mum tiredly answers from the kitchen, “They’re here, who do you think I–...”

The trailing off has you and Ross holding your breaths, and then you hear your mum’s loud cursing, “Oh bollocks!”

And the two of you can’t stop the cackles that leave you.

Trying to speak in between laughter is hard and your mum can barely make out your words when you ask, “Did you forget the potatoes?”

“Yeah…”

Tears spill from your eyes as you continue to laugh, “You’ve got something against them I swear, woman.”

“Could you go get some, please?” your mum asks, seeing that there’s still some time left before the shops close down.

You sigh tiredly but actually give in, “Sure.”

Ross leans in and kisses your lips softly and, unfortunately, very briefly.

“Don’t worry. I got it,” he whispers against your mouth, a hint of cockiness in his tone that makes you smirk and play along to what he’s trying to do.

“Will you take some Christmas cookies in exchange for them?” your fingers continue playing with his hair, but you pout to try and play onto the pity you want him to take on you.

He hums like he’s thinking about it but he settles for something else, “Actually, I’ll take a kiss.”

“Just one?” you question with your brows raised.

He gasps like it’s a miracle you’re offering more than one, “Oh well, if you’re feeling generous.”

Your fingers trail down the sides of his face until you can rub circles on his cheeks with your thumbs, “Christmas is all about giving, isn’t it?”

The words echo inside his mind, and he smirks harder knowing what he’s meant to say, “I guess it is.”

A breathy chuckle leaves you, and he steals it by smashing your lips together. Every time he kisses you, you lose track of time and everything around you loses its meaning. You’re completely blinded by him, overcome by his existence, full of everything he has to give you.

Unfortunately, you can’t continue losing yourself in him for your mum shouts from the kitchen, “Oi! Go get the potatoes, you two!”

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

A/N:  This was actually so much fun to plot but a bit tricky to write, so I truly hope you enjoyed the final product!! Kinda wishing I wrote more holiday themed fics now, but I promise I'll try to bring more of them soon, as many as my heart can take lol. I'll take this opportunity to thank you for reading and sending in your reactions, for accompanying me through this crazy year. Love yous so much and I wish you all the happiest new year!!! MWAHHH xxxx

Taglist: @imagine-that-100 @kennedy-brooke @abiiors @everythinggetsfuzzy103 @on-administrative-leave @ughgoaway @harryssiren @2kwreck @obses-sedd @scarlett-grace-2 @taylorswiftsrep-blog @solitariodecartas @cherryofmydesire @momentum2023 @soggynoodles02 @poisonmedaddy13 @k4tie75

[callsigndragon]

Home | Jake "Hangman" Seresin

A/N: Thanks to @bibissparkles for requesting this! Sorry for the delay, I've been bussy lately. I'm not really sure i like the final result but here it is so enjoy it!

A/N 2: Also i'm sorry for all the random things i just throw out there as 'your favorite things' if you don't like those things, just imagine your own answer <3

Warnings: fluff, mentions of alcohol, nothing more i think?

Hangman met Jackpot at the academy. Jackpot (call sign given by the rest because if they wanted an easy win at poker, they just needed to go against you. You really sucked at the game) was a good girl, better pilot and one of those sunshine people you want to surround yourself with. He didn't think it was necessary for him to brag around you. You didn't care who was better. And that was something new in Jake's life.  

His family was full of veterans. They were expecting him to be the best everywhere he went. To finally found someone who was willing to ignore his rank, his medals and his skills... It was a relief.  

He could be him, for once. And even though that was exciting, to finally be able to express himself and show his true colors was something scary if you have never done it before.  

Luckily to Hangman, you were the nicest, kindest, warmest soul to ever cross paths with him. He allowed his heart to do as he pleased. And his heart did the most unthinkable thing: it fell in love you. Jake had never thought it was possible to love someone as much as he loved you, but he did. It was a love that kept him awake at nights, that made him search for you whenever he entered a room. It made him learn everything about you: favorite songs and movies, books that you loved, how did you have your coffee in the morning and what were your favorite snacks so he could always have some around in case you got hungry. It made him put you behind his body whenever a creepy guy approached you, even though he knew that you were capable of defending yourself. He just wanted to make sure you were okay. He just wanted to make sure that you were happy.  

And because of that, Jake Seresin could never allow himself to confess his feelings. He was scared that you only saw in him a friend. He couldn’t even imagine a world without you in his life. So... he kept his feelings hidden from the world.  

For him, you were like some kind of forbidden fruit that he could never get. The hugs became longer. His hands were always attached to some part of your body, normally hips or the small of your back. He would whisper silly things on your ear to make you laugh. At that point, everyone thought you two were dating.  

And at some point, you wanted those rumors to be true. When you two became close, you thought he was way out of your league. That man could pull any girl and you knew he wasn’t interested in you. He just wanted a good friend. And that’s what you became for him.  

However, the way he treated you, how sweet and caring he was, how he always seemed so interested and whatever you had to say, even though if you were just babbling about the last chapter of your favorite Netflix show... it made you fall for him. But you knew that your feelings were one sided and you had to keep them to yourself.  

When the academy program ended, however, each one of you had to return to their own base. That meant that you had to say goodbye to Hangman. It hurt, though, having to leave someone that had become such an important part of your life in so little time. You cried; he laughed a little trying not to cry too and after a long hug that felt like it would be the last, each one walked away.  

After that, you two kept in contact through text, calls and face time if you two had the time for it. But sometimes it is complicated to keep a long-distance friendship. You two worked, got deployed, signal was a nightmare and, eventually, you two talked less and less.  

Now you texted once a week if you were lucky.  

You got an offer to be an instructor at Top Gun. You accepted immediately, and got there in time to learn that some of your old friends were back, and in the middle of a difficult mission in some carrier in the middle of the ocean. You hoped for them to be okay and come back safely.  

A few days later, you are at the bar with Penny when you hear the voice that followed you in dreams, the one that you had almost forgotten.  

Jake  

“Oh, c’mon Rooster, I saved you ass I shouldn’t be paying any drink tonight” you hear him say, walking straight to the pool table.  

“You’re not gonna let that go” retorts Rooster with a tired voice.  

“Never”  

You watch him intently. He hasn’t changed a bit. Well, his smile is less cocky and more genuine. He seems to be doing well with his team, sharing jokes and playing around. You smile. You are so glad that he’s able to be his own persona and not the arrogant douchebag he was all those years ago.  

You grab your beer and get close to the team. “Care if an old friend joins in?” you say out loud for all of them to hear.  

Phoenix is the first one to realize that you are really here. She hugs you really tight and calls the rest of the team to make some introductions, as you don’t know all of them. Rooster also hugs you, even Coyote. Hangman, however, remains behind the rest, looking quietly at you.  

“You know I don’t bite, right?” you joke, looking at him.  

“It’s just... weird. You’re here.” he admits, walking closer and stopping right in front of you. You thought he was going to hug you, but he doesn’t.  

“You didn’t know she was coming? I thought you were best friends” questions Rooster looking at the both of you.  

“Let’s say we really suck at being long-distance friends” says Jake, not once moving his eyes from yours.  

“...you’re really thinking that I'm going to disappear”  

“At any given moment” he whispers, his voice trembling a little.  

“Come here, you big boy” you laugh, hugging him and patting his back. He puts his arms around your waist, bringing you closer. Your heart beats faster, like you were back at the academy again, secretly in love with a cowboy.  

“I missed you” he mumbles close to your ear.  

“I missed you too”  

You spent hours with them talking, bringing up memories from the academy days. Some of them remember how Hangman and you were always together. Joined by the hip. It seemed that you were the only person who didn't had to suffer from Jake's cockiness. Every single story about Hangman they had to share with the new members of the group had you in it. You were always there for him.  

“I bet he still remembers a lot of things about Jackpot” says Phoenix while elbowing Hangman. 

“Try me” he simply responds.  

“Okay. I’ll make the questions” says the brunette, leaving his beer on the pool table. “Favorite ice cream”  

“Ben & Jerry’s Cookie Dough”  

“Favorite book”  

“Pride and Prejudice”  

“Favorite color”  

“Blue”  

“Favorite song”  

“At Last by Etta James” 

“Wait, you still remember that?” you ask him, really impressed by all those trivial things he seems to remember about you. 

“Honey, I always had that song in my phone so we could listen it together” he says, smiling.  

You smile shyly, sipping from your drink. The rest of them keep talking, you and Hangman look at each other, his hand softly caressing your arm until his fingers intertwin with yours. It’s like you are in your own bubble, leaving the world outside and just relishing each other’s presence. You don’t even talk. There’s no need for words, just need for contact. Skin to skin. Knowing that you’re still there.  

“Bag man, can you admit that you’re in love with her already so we don’t have to see you two being all lovey-dovey in front of all of us, single people of the world” whines Rooster.  

“He’s not in love with me, Rooster. I’m his friend” you explain, letting go of Hangman’s hand.  

“Are you sure?” says Hangman, making your heart skip a beat.  

“About you not loving me? Well, I think that I would know if you were to have such feelings for me”  

"It took me being years separated from you and put randomly in a room with you again to know"  

"Know what?"  

"You're my home, y/n. You've always been. All the time I spent away from you; something was missing in my life. I forced myself to stop texting you so often. I always asked you the same questions: ‘how are you’, ‘how’s work’, ‘how’s your family’... and I was scared you thought I was annoying when all I wanted was to know how were you.” he confesses, talking fast and with a lot of emotion in his voice.  

“Jake...”  

“I had to keep you as my friend because I didn’t want to risk everything and lose you if I confessed my feelings and you didn’t feel the same”  

“You wouldn’t have lost anything, Jake” you reveal to everyone. “I never said anything because I thought you were out of my league and you would never date someone like me”  

“Sweetheart, all I've ever wanted it’s to date someone like you” he smiles coyly.  

“Can you just kiss already” says Bob, tired of all your conversation and lack of action.  

Jake laughs and shakes his head while reaching for your hand. You grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him down to kiss him. You can feel his smile against your lips.  

“I guess he just hit the Jackpot” says Fanboy.  

You pull away from Jake to look at him, the rest of the group doing the same. “Way to ruin the moment, Garcia” you say, going to the bar to ask for some new beers for you and your best friend. Well, boyfriend now.  

[centralperkchenford]

Chenford + lie detector scene but written as pre-canon and feelings are exposed/revealed.

I thought of this earlier and I had to write it before I lost it 🤭🤍

Chenford pre-canon + take the lie detector test (6x02 spec)

Chenford + lie detector scene but written as pre-canon and feelings are exposed/revealed.

Anywhere you're gonna be, that's where I wanna be

“This is silly.” Says Lucy as she sits across from Tim who is looking down at the lie detector. She is already hooked up much to her chagrin, she guesses this is what happens when she takes a bet from Tim and then loses it. The bet wasn’t even that big of a deal, she had been riding with him that day and she had bet him that she could hand out more tickets than him. And if she won he would be hooked up to the lie detector. And if he won she would be hooked up and she regretted it.

“This was your idea Lucy.” Tim says a shit eating grin on his face. She glares at him, smug bastard. He had beat her by one ticket.

“Whatever.” She says. “Let’s get this over with.” Tim grins and asks the normal starter questions.

“What’s your name?” He asks.

“Lucy Chen.” She answers. Truth. Tim nods looking down and then up at her. He still had that shit eating expression on his face.

“Where do you live?”

“Los Angeles, California.” She replies. Tim nods and doesn’t look up at her. He’s quiet for more than a few seconds.

“Are you single?” He asks. She winces a little and he still doesn’t look up. The truth was she had broken up with Chris a few days prior and hadn’t told Tim. Not that it was his business, but he probably thought she wasn’t single and things had been weird between them since Vegas.

“Yes.” She says and Tim does look up this time his blue eyes wide as he searches her face and then looks back down at the machine.

“Since when?” He asks and she swears there’s hope in his voice. She swallows a little bit as she glances down at the table. There were a million reasons why she broke up with Chris, he was self centered, he didn’t recognize her trauma. He always made her do stuff she wasn’t particularly comfortable with. And the biggest one of all, her feelings for Tim. She was still trying to work those out.

“A few days ago.” She answers simply still not looking at him. She hears him make a soft noise.

“I’m sorry.” He says.

“I’m not.” Lucy says truth. “Chris was an asshole.” Truth. Tim looks amused and nods his head a little.

“Okay.” He says and he pauses a little as if he’s thinking about what to say next. She watches him as he scrunches his nose a little and then relaxes. He taps his fingers on the table, “When we were in Vegas.” He starts and her heart starts beating fast. “You said it was just basic biology. It didn’t mean anything. Was that true?”

Lucy swallows and she looks up at him, he’s serious now his lips turned down in a small frown waiting for her answer.

“Tim…”

“Answer the question Lucy.” He says. She swallows again pushing a loose piece of hair out of her face.

“I mean it was basic biology.” She says and winces as the machine goes crazy. Lie. Tim frowns at her tapping his fingers on the table.

“Answer the damn question Lucy.” He says and she can tell he’s getting frustrated. She sighs and licks her lips. What was the harm in telling the truth?

“I lied.” She admits. “It wasn’t just basic biology or pretend. It meant something but I was scared. Everything was happening so quickly and you just—caught me off guard.”

Tim looks down at the machine, his lips twitching up into a smile. Truth.

“Okay.” He says. “So you had feelings for me.”

“I have feelings for you Tim. God one of the reasons I broke up with Chris was because of you. You are in my damn head all the time. Your stupid handsome face and your lips against mine and—”

She stops suddenly when she sees the look on Tim’s face and she swallows. Fuck she said too much.

“I’m sorry.” She says trying to backtrack. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to—” Tim stops her and reaches out to put his hand on hers.

“Did you mean all that?” He asks. He has emotion in his voice she hasn’t heard for awhile. She swallows once and looks up at the ceiling and then back at the man she would do anything for. The most important relationship in her life, the one person she always wants to be around.

“Yes.” She says fiercely. “I did but if you don’t—” Tim stops her again and stands up coming around to gently unhook her. His hands on her even through her clothing send shivers down her spine.

“Tim…”

“Not here Lucy.” He says softly. She nods and looks around suddenly remembering where they were. At work.

She gets up too once he’s done and her hand touches his. He smiles at her, a soft smile that she loves that he rarely shows but she thinks he should because it makes him glow.

She follows him out of the room and back into the bullpen, and then outside to a small wall. She sits down next to him but there’s still some space between them.

“Lucy.” He says softly. He takes a deep breath and lets it out. “You meant all those things?”

She nods and he scoots closer, there knees touching. “I understand if you are mad at me Tim.” She says. “For lying I just—”

“I’m not.” He says quickly. “Lucy, I have wanted this for longer than I’m willing to admit. And maybe I was frustrated but if you want this.” He gestures between them. She nods and he smiles again.

“Then I want it.” He says his voice determined. And god she’s not sure how she got so lucky to have someone like Tim in her life. And she does what this, she has for awhile and she just has never been able to admit it out loud.

“But if we mess it up.” She starts and he shakes his head at her scooting closer.

“It’s worth the risk.” He says and she blows out a breath. “You are worth the risk.” She feels her whole body relax at his words.

And everything is happening at once, one minute she’s hooked up to a lie detector and the next she’s admitting her feelings for Tim.

“Okay.” She says and she sees his body relax too. “It’s worth the risk.” He nods and glances around before gently kissing her. It’s soft and short but it’s perfect.

“So.” He says sitting back. “Would you like to go out on a date with me?” Lucy nods reaching out for his hand. She laces her fingers through his and squeezes.

“I would love to.”

And maybe this bet wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

[oceans-goddess]

Tyler Galpin x Reader Pt. 5-- An Interruption

A/N: So sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out! It has been a busy week, and I have been sick. Anyways, I wanted to try something a little different today, so this is more from Tyler’s POV. I hope you enjoy!

Link to Pt. 4

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Coming to the Weathervane became a daily routine for you after your first date with Tyler. You would walk in, take the booth closest to the counter, and pull out your homework while Tyler brought over the usual: a hot chocolate and a croissant. Both of you looked forward to seeing each other every afternoon.

At times, when it was a quiet day, Tyler would have a few moments to sit with you as you worked, and though you enjoyed his company more than anything, it was Tyler who truly felt at peace once you walked into the shop. He would never tell you outright-- he was afraid that being too forward would scare you off-- but seeing you was the best part-- his favorite part-- of every day. You were his escape from school, from work, from home. You brought him so much peace without even trying.

“Whatcha workin’ on today?” he asked, lowering himself onto the booth across from you. You looked up through your eyelashes in a way that made his heart flutter no matter how many times you did it.

“Just some notes on this book we are reading. Not much other homework tonight,” you responded, looking more relaxed than usual. On some days, Tyler would watch as your brows pulled together in frustration over confusing material. Other days, the exhaustion would make itself known in your shoulders and under your eyes. Though you always smiled at him when you came in, it worried him that your school work often became too much for you.

“Oh, good,” he responded, grinning. “Then you have time for a walk at the end of my shift?”

You answered with a simple nod, then pulled his right hand across the table. After a moment of confusion, he realized that you were drawing a smiley face onto his wrist with the pen you were using to take notes.

It wasn’t fair, he thought, that something so small, so silly, could make him want to melt into the very booth.

When you were done, he held your hand in his, squeezed twice, and stood up to clean up behind the counter.

From there, he could sneak peaks at you as you both worked. He loved the slight side smile that tugged at your lips when you read, and the way you shook our hair out of your eyes even though it always fell back into the same place. He loved that your toes tapped against the linoleum floor when you got impatient, and the way little red flowers blossomed across the table when you were frustrated. He loved the way you’d pull your sweater up to cover your nose on particularly chilly afternoons, and the way yellow wood sorrel petals would slither from under your sleeves when he managed to say something particularly suave. But most of all, he loved when you’d catch him watching you, for two reasons:

1, because you looking at him meant that you were thinking about him too, and

2, because it gave him a chance to smile into those calm y/e/c eyes for a moment-- to get completely caught up in all of you, even if the two of you were across the room from each other.

When the two of you looked at each other like that, the rest of the world felt so much brighter.

_______________________________________________________________________

“We can walk down a few blocks, make a left, and do a big circle, and then I can walk you back to school,” Tyler suggested, shrugging on his jacket outside of the coffee shop. You were glad his shifts never ended too late; it meant that you got to have full conversations with him afterward instead of talking to him at work when he was busy with orders.

Walks like these were much easier than the first. After all that you’d told him, Tyler didn’t bring up your past. He assumed you would tell him anything you wanted him to know in time. Instead, the two of you gushed over books, played new songs for each other, and talked about nothing.

It was perfect.

“Sounds good,” you said now, and you blushed when he smiled at you. The two of you made to walk down the sidewalk, only to be stopped short by a man in a dark uniform turn the corner from the small parking lot and begin walking toward you.

“Tyler,” the man said gruffly, then, upon seeing you holding Tyler’s hand, paused. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“I, uh, who is this?”

You smiled a lopsided half-smile, but looked down at the hem of your skirt. Tyler shifted his weight uncomfortably. He hadn’t expected to see his father until much later that night.

“Uh, dad, this is y/n. Y/n,” he said, turning to you, “this is my dad, Donovan.” You nodded and smiled wider, but in focusing so hard on not bursting into flower petals where you stood, you failed to say anything.

“Well, it’s, uh, it’s nice to meet you, y/n,” Mr. Galpin said. After a moment of awkward silence, he took a step forward and leaned in slightly.

“Listen, Tyler, I don’t mean to, uh, interrupt, but I came to get you. We need to get home and talk. It’s important.”

Now was anything but the time to call him home, he thought, cringing at the thought of you seeing him be dragged home by his dad.

“Can it wait? I promised y/n I’d walk her home--”

“Ty, now’s not really the time to argue,” Mr. Galpin responded quickly, and though the urgency was clear in his voice, his dismissal of his son seemed to ring in your ears. Tyler had mentioned a few times that he didn’t get along well with his father, but seeing the strain on their relationship in front of you felt entirely different.

“But, dad, it’s already dark. She can’t just--”

“Fine, we will drive her home, and then you will come home with me.” The officer turned on his heel and began walking in the direction from which he came, clearly expecting you both to follow.

Once you were tucked into the back of the cruiser with Tyler, which was just as uncomfortable as it looked, Mr. Galpin asked you where you wanted to be dropped off.

“Uh, the front gates at Nevermore are fine,” you said quietly. Mr. Galpin immediately stiffened, and you knew you’d said the wrong thing.

“You... you’re a Nevermore student?” he asked. Tyler wanted desperately to be anywhere else, and his anger burned hot on his face. It took a long time for you to respond.

“Yes,” was all you said. The rest of the ride was completely silent.

____________________________________________

Tyler didn’t know which was more intense at the moment, his anger at his father for being so rude to you, or his embarrassment at not being able to do anything about it. He’d watched with a lame, apologetic grimace on his face as Mr. Galpin kept his gaze from you and sped away from Nevermore.

The moment you were out of sight, he swiveled his head so his gaze was no longer out the window at you, but instead on his father.

“What is the problem?” he asked, though he wished he’d had the courage to ask it more belligerently.

“We’ll discuss it when we get home,” Mr. Galpin reminded, but Tyler rolled his eyes.

“No, not the problem from before. You seem to have a problem with y/n. You all but ignored her the whole ride!”

His father huffed before speaking.

“I don’t understand why you are so set against me, Tyler,” was all he said. Tyler put his head in his hands.

“What are you talking about?” the boy asked, his fingers threatening to pull strands of hair from his scalp in frustration. Mr. Galpin never took his gaze away from the road.

“I let you have that silly little job at the coffee shop, I let you keep your secrets with that ridiculous therapist you see, and now you want me to let you hang around with a bunch of delinquents? How do you think everyone else in this town will see me now that you’ve spent your time in public with that girl?”

Speechless, Tyler felt the tension between them bubble as Mr. Galpin turned right onto a quiet road.

“You,” he said after a few agonizingly awkward moments, “You can’t seriously feel that way about Nevermore students.” Mr. Galpin scoffed.

“Are you kidding? Tyler, just go hang out with normal kids. Why do you always have to make things difficult?”

For the first time in a long time, Tyler had felt at ease in Jericho; you had brought so much calm everywhere you went, despite your ability to get flustered easily. And now his father expected him to give it up?

“I’m not making anything difficult! She’s my—“

He stopped himself short, and quickly steered the course of the sentence in a different direction, silently promising to revisit the exciting idea of you as his girlfriend another time.

“—friend,” he finally managed. “The best friend I’ve had in a long time. You can’t just—“

“Yes, I very well can!” interjected the officer mercilessly. “That girl, that thing, things like her, they make nothing but trouble for me in this town, and I don’t need my son getting any more awful ideas from them.”

Thing?

The brunet felt stung. Breathless at his father’s language. He’d heard him say things like this before, but not about anyone other than his son. To hear him speak so wretchedly of you made his hands shake in anger and agitation.

“Let me out of the car,” Tyler said slowly. A wry chuckle passed Mr. Galpin’s lips.

“No, I told you, we have—“

“Let me out, now,” Tyler demanded. His father’s brows furrowed with rage, but he had no time to respond, because in a moment, Tyler’s hand was clasped around the door handle and pushing the door open.

“Boy, close the damn door!” the sheriff shouted, but his son was already unbuckled. He had no choice but to stop the car so as to keep Tyler unharmed. The moment the tires stopped rolling on the pavement, Tyler was out, the door slamming behind him with a loud C R A C K !

Mr. Galpin laid his head on his hands as they rested on the steering wheel, willing himself not to cry out in frustration.

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A/N: okay so that was a little more angsty than I originally planned, but I’m enjoying this, and I hope y’all are too!

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