#I think Thursday is the best option for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ty-bayonet-betteridge · 6 months

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two of the transfems youre friends with have been talking to you about the clinic they got their bottom surgery done at. apparently its dirt cheap, and the surgeon - despite some oddities and, your friends admit, poor hygiene - is incredibly talented. theyre more than happy to give you her phone number when you ask, and while it sounds simultaneously incredibly sketchy and way too good to be true, at this point youre just so broke, desperate, and tired of gatekeepers that you're willing to give it a shot.

you call on a thursday afternoon, and the call is picked up on the fourth ring, when youre just gearing up to hear an answering machine. the voice on the other end sounds like a middle-aged woman with a smoking habit trying to sound like a cheery, bubbly young girl, and mostly succeeding. hiiiii! what can i do for you? she asks. you say er im looking for a surgical clinic is this the right number? she says mhm! thats me. you say okay, i just have a few questions. she says shoot. you say do you take patients who arent referred to you? she says nobody refers patients to me so yes. then she giggles. youve never heard somebody pull off a giggle in real life. you ask okay, so ive been looking for a place to get my metoidoplasty done, can you do that here? she says i dont know what that is give me like five seconds. then the line goes silent. you can hear her typing on a mechanical keyboard and humming to herself as she reads. youre now convinced that this is not in any way a legitimate medical institution.

youre about to hang up when she comes back on the line. OH you need a dick she says. sure i can do that! does tuesday afternoon work for you? i have that morning free too but i HATE getting up in the mornings so id rather not schedule it if i have to. you say tuesday afternoon is fine, how long should i expect the visit to be? she says i dont know like seven hours? you say seven hours? she says yeah give or take a few, every person is different so i dont know what itll be like until ive got your cunt opened up. honestly probably best to take the whole day off just in case it turns out to be a tough operation. you dont respond to that immediately. she says oh shoot should i not use the word cunt, is that too gendered? sorry. you say no its fine. you say i thought i was just going in for a consult? she says i mean yeah if youd rather. i dont mind doing same-day but some people like having more time to think about their options. do you have somewhere to be tuesday night or something? you say no its just... no tuesday afternoon should be fine. she says okay great!

she gives you her address. she says knock three times so i know its you and not my parole officer. parole officer you ask? she says im being good i promise but i still hate talking to him hes boring. you say if you dont mind me asking what were you imprisoned for? she says the ones i plead guilty to at the trial were a hundred and ninety-two counts of first-degree murder with a parahuman ability, two hundred and fifty-six counts of physical and emotional torture with a parahuman ability, five hundred and six counts of intentional infliction of emotional distress with a parahuman ability, four hundred ninety-eight counts of aggravated assault and battery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty five counts of domestic terrorism with a parahuman ability and two hundred and twelve counts without, three counts of arson, two hundred forty two counts of burglary with a parahuman ability, three hundred eight four counts of robbery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty seven counts of abduction with a parahuman ability, a hundred eighty six counts of human trafficking with a parahuman ability, three hundred ninety counts of destruction of public property with a parahuman ability, eighty counts of possession of a controlled substance, more than three thousand conspiracy and complicity charges in various felonies, eighteen violations of the Geneva Conventions, and the unauthorized practice of medicine. i plead not guilty to the larceny, sexual assault, contempt of court, corporate espionage, and identity theft charges and the prosecutor didnt really try to fight it since i had already earned seventy life sentences from the other stuff so im technically innocent of those.

you dont say anything to that.

after three seconds of silence she says sooooooooo i'll see you tuesday? you say tuesday, yeah. what was your name again? Riley, she says. Riley Grace Davis. you say thanks again and then hang up.

you debate constantly during the intervening days whether you should go on tuesday. youre grateful your friend group is so slutty; it means youve already seen with your own eyes that this surgery is real and not just a lure to murder you. still, you have some reservations, which you think is perfectly understandable.

you call one of your friends whos been there already. she picks up and you say if this is a joke its only sort of funny. she says if whats a joke? you say the clinic. you say you DID give me the actual number to the place where you actually had your bottom surgery done right? she says yeah, dont worry the surgeons so sweet. you say she admitted to doing two hundred murders when she was on the phone. she says i dont know anything about that but i trust her. you say if i end up dead, kidnapped, or mutilated, its your fault. she says dont worry about it.

tuesday comes. you never agreed to an exact time so you show up as early as you can and still have it be "afternoon" in your mind - 12:30. you climb the rusted fire escape to the third floor door and knock three times. the door is answered by a woman six feet tall in casual but very nice clothes with frizzy brown hair and an expression you cant read. you say er, riley? she says nope. another girl pushes past her, exasperated. she's maybe five foot two and her wavy blonde hair is worn down, with a red bow in it. she's wearing torn jeans - naturally torn, not the sort that you buy with holes in them that youve always hated but the kind that were once normal jeans and now have worn through much of the fabric on the knees. her tshirt is faded and has stains that you cant quite place on it, but youre pretty sure it was once Eidolon merchandise.

she says damnit amy let me answer the door next time. the taller woman, amy apparently, shrugs and steps aside to let you in riley claps her hands together once youre inside and the door is shut. introductions! she shouts. amy, this is, er... I never actually got your name? you tell them your name. she says right! hes one of my clients. and this is Amy, my sister. dont worry about her, shes just a little awkward. amy says can you PLEASE not introduce me as your sister. riley says make me. then she grabs amys shirt and pulls her down, standing on her tiptoes at the same time. they kiss in a very un-sisterly way. you clear your throat politely.

riley breaks away and says right, yeah, sorry! i get distracted easy. youre here to get a dick right. you splutter a bit, both at the bluntness of the question and the fact that amy is still standing right there. riley follows your gaze. she says oh dont worry about her! sorry, i wouldve run her off earlier, i thought you wouldnt come by for another few hours. you say sorry. she says dont worry, its her fault. amy says you didnt tell me you had a client. riley says you didnt ASK. you clear your throat politely again. you say er yes, i did come in for metoidoplasty. she bites her lip and furrows her brow. she says metoido... oh right. well i dont really do that here but i can give you a dick. you say uh im not really interested in phalloplasty. she says whats phalloplasty? amy says its the construction of a penis, usually via tissue flap taken from another part of the body, often followed by the insertion of prosthetics to allow the constructed penis to achieve erection. riley says oh, huh. yeah i dont do that either. i can give you a dick though. she takes a second then puts on an exaggerated scowl. who would want that she asks? amy says lots of people prefer it to metoido for aesthetic reasons or because they dont think theyll be large enough for penetrative sex with metoido. riley says but it wouldnt feel like a dick! man, some surgeons are talentless hacks.

you clear your throat again. you say so if youre- riley says youre clearing your throat a lot, are you okay? you say im fine, its just- she says oh duh were being so rude! why are we all standing around here. come sit down in the living room, do you want anything to drink? she leads you into the living room. it has the unmistakable air of a room thats been cleaned recently, with vacuuming marks present in the carpet and the unmistakable scent of air freshener. the sofa that you're gestured to sit on is, by contrast, unbelievably filthy. stains of every sort are visible on it - some of them are obvious, like the patches of blood and vomit or the ring of a coffee mug. others take you a second to place, like the crusty streak along one cushion that you realize all at once is semen, or the sticky yellow parts that you hope to god are honey. some of them, like the muddy green handprint along one arm of the sofa or the deep black smudge along a seat, are completely foreign to you. you can smell it from several feet away.

amy notices your hesitancy. she says i keep telling her to throw that thing out. riley says and i keep telling HER that its a relic from earth bet! its an antique and itll be worth millions soon. it just needs a good deep cleaning. amy says what that sofa needs is a bullet, not a deep clean. you sit down. drink? riley asks. you say er what do you have? she says water, diet coke, vodka, coffee. no more beer though, SOMEBODY drank the last one. amy says you never said they were off limits! riley says they arent, im just teasing. you say waters fine. riley says aaaaaaaaaamyyyyyyy, could you pleeeeeeaaaaaaaase go get our guest a glass of water and me a diet coke? oh and can you grab the pill bottle on the second shelf of the spice cabinet. amy says sure, i'll be right back.

riley sits down next to you. she says sooooooo what do you want for your dick? you say sorry, if youre not doing phallo or metoido then what exactly are you offering? she says no offense but it would take like literally eight years to give you enough background info for you to understand my explanation, and i dont have that kind of time. im not getting any younger. except for when i am. she laughs louder than you thought a human could. you have no idea how to describe the sound of her laughter. she says just tell me about your dream dick and ill give it to you. trust me, im a doctor.

except that youre not, amy says, returning with glasses and pills in hand. she sets the water down in front of you and you immediately take large gulps, feeling very much lost right now. riley says am TOO, accepting the pill bottle and diet coke from amy. she frowns. why is it can diet coke, she asks? she says glass bottle is so much better. she says why did i even BUY can. amy says they are literally the same liquid, what do you mean its better. riley says theyre not the same, stop deluding yourself. amy says which of us is the REAL doctor? riley says both of us! the PRT finally issued me an equivalency. youre talking to doctor riley davis, MED. amy says oh really? congrats she says. riley beams. then she unscrews the lid of the unlabeled, dark brown glass bottle, grabs three pills, and pops them into her mouth.

what is that you ask. ectasy she says. you want some? you say no thanks. she says you sure? you say i probably shouldnt take drugs before an operation, what if it interacts with the anesthetic? riley says dont worry, i made my own anesthetic that has zero drug-drug interactions. amy says except with sudafed. riley says ok YEAH except with sudafed, how was i supposed to know? she glances at you. you dont take sudafed do you she asks. you say no. she says good. it was such a bitch cleaning the pus off the ceiling she says. you say huh? she says dont worry about it, you dont take sudafed. she says are you sure you dont want any ecstasy? i promise its pure. you say i dont want to get addicted. she says i can surgically remove the addiction pathway from your brain if that would help. amy says riley, no means no. riley says fine. do you want any ecstasy babe? she says no thanks. riley frowns. she says you guys are a bunch of squares. she pops a fourth one and starts chugging diet coke.

she slams the can down after drinking what must be half of it, wipes her mouth with her arm and grins. sorry, we keep getting distracted! she says. she says im getting into the start of a manic episode and that always makes me roll right over people in conversation. what do you want for your dick? you say um. i hadnt really thought about it. its not normally a choice beyond the type of surgery, you sort of just end up with whatever the doctors are able to make work? thats lame she says. why are normal doctors all so lame she says. ok, rude amy says. OBVIOUSLY im not talking about you babe riley says. and stop distracting me from my client! amy holds up her hands in mock surrender, an easy smile on her face.

you didnt bring a toy with you did you, riley asks. you say huh. she says sometimes people bring a toy that they want me to model it after and that makes everything a lot easier. you say no you didn't. you say i hadn't really thought about my preferences, can we go dealer's choice on this? amy pipes up. she says you REALLY dont want riley to go dealers choice. riley says shut up and get me another diet coke, i just finished this one. amy says yes princess. you honestly cant read whether it was meant to be mocking or endearing. riley turns back to you. ok, she says, lets start with basics. primate? canid? equine? suine? dolphin? i could give you a hyena pseudopenis but i dont know if that would be offensive. you say human is fine. she says please dont tell me you're gonna just be boring this whole time. you say define boring. she sighs deeply and starts massaging her temples. amy, having stepped into the room in time to hear the last bit of conversation, tousles rileys hair. she says sorry babe, customer's always right.

you work out the appearance of your soon-to-exist cock this way. riley asks questions about length, girth, hair, amount of semen generated, percentage growth when erect, and you try to give what you think are average answers every time. amy watches, bemused, the whole time. halfway through she leaves to get the bottle of vodka. she drinks five shots in fifteen minutes. you say i didnt think the human body had that much capacity for alcohol resistance. she says it doesnt. riley swats playfully at her arm.

eventually, riley grabs a set of crayons and a cocktail napkin. she says ok, i think we got it, scribbling furiously. she shows you a crayon drawing of a dick. this look good she asks? you squint at it. there are no measurements given and the medium does not allow you to make out any fine detail. you say yeah thats fine. amy tries and fails to hide a smile. riley chucks the napkin aside and rubs her hands together. boring parts done! she says. time to get messy she says. amy pours a sixth shot of vodka. she says dont forget the anesthetic first. riley rolls her eyes. she says OBVIOUSLY i didnt forget the anesthetic. she says ill be right back. as soon as she leaves the room, amy knocks back her shot. she turns to you. she says you mind if i stay and watch? she says i dont want to make you uncomfortable, but i like watching her work. shes cute when shes working. you say at this point youre not sure you would mind anything at all. you say at this point you dont think you would be fazed if she came back with a fully-formed dick wriggling around in her hand like a fish and sewed it onto me. she says dont tempt fate.

riley comes back with a black bag the size of her head, which she sets on the coffee table with a thunk. she points at you and says okay, clothes off. or pants off i guess. you can leave the shirt on. or take it off. i dont care. you take it off. she tells you to lie down and starts pulling things out of the bag. amy stands up from the sofa to give you the space to stretch out and sits on the coffee table instead, one leg pulled up to her chest with her chin resting on her knee.

riley pulls out a syringe from the bag, filled with pitch-black fluid. she says okay this will hurt for a second but only for a second. you say huh? she flips you over onto your belly and jabs the needle against your lower back, into your spinal column. it hurts like a bitch for all of two seconds and then you stop feeling anything at all in your lower body. you also cant move your legs, you realize. what just happened you ask, as she flips you onto your back again. she says i just killed all the cells in the nerves in your lower spine. she says its the easiest way to make sure none of the pain signals slip through, and she'll just replace them with living ones when she's done. you don't know how to respond to that.

she pulls more things out of the bag. a cartoonish array of different cutting implements come out. most of them are various sizes of medical scalpel, ring cutter, or saw, but you also see a pair of chunky pink safety scissors, a pizza cutter, a serrated bread knife, an x-acto, a drill with a comically long bit, a pair of wire cutters, gardening shears, and an awl. she says okay im gonna start operating so look away if you dont wanna see how your crotch looks while its being rearranged. especially if you think you might puke, i hate having to stop to clean up puke in the middle of surgery. you look away. you notice amy is watching transfixed.

for a couple of hours things go on like that. amy and riley make light conversation, with riley filling any silence by humming a wordless tune you dont know. the sounds and smells youre getting are enough to make you slightly sick; you continue not looking.

in the middle of hour two, riley stops. oh goddamnit, she says. what amy asks? riley says she forgot that shed need extra meat. amy says you started a surgery to give somebody a whole new organ and forgot youd need more tissue to do it? riley says shut up, im dumb. amy says no youre not babe. riley says ughhhhh now what. amy says just get his stem cells to grow the tissue you need. riley says nooooooo thatll take forever, and i have places to BE tomorrow, and if i stop putting pressure on him here hes going to bleed out through his cunt. you say wait, what? amy says well i dont know what you want me to do about this situation, i gave you my solution. riley says baaaaaaaaaaabe. amy says whaaaaaaaaaaaat. riley says i think we have some bacon in the fridge, will you pretty please with sprinkles on top go get it? amy says and what do i get in return? riley says a kiss. amy says id get that anyway. riley says my undying love and affection. amy says i have that already. riley says not making me angry at you so you can sleep under my roof without having to worry that ill turn your sweat glands into acid glands in the middle of the night. amy says that, plus i get to top tonight. riley says fiiiiiiiiine, just go get the bacon. amy gets up.

you say look uh i know you said not to question what youre doing but i kind of dont want a dick made of bacon, not to sound ungrateful. also did you say something about me bleeding out? riley says dont worry, if you bleed out ill put the blood back in, im a professional. you say thats not as reassuring as she thinks it is. riley says whos the doctor, mister? you say technically both of us. i have a phd in social sciences you say. she says wow, theyre just giving out doctorates for anything these days, huh? you say hey, rude. she says only teasing. you say anyway, uh, you didnt address the bacon dick thing? she says oh dont worry about it, my amys amazing, youll see.

amy comes back in with the package of bacon. do you need this in any particular shape she asks. riley says nah just give me a good amount of it. and make sure its spongy, so when he gets hard the blood can- amy cuts her off. she says dont worry, ive given you enough penises at this point that i think i know what penile tissue is like at this point. you say given her enough penises? what the hell does that mean? riley says hey, dont kinkshame! she sounds legitimately offended. you say sorry. amy pulls the bacon out of the package, holding it aloft in her left hand. you watch as the familiar look of a half-pound of bacon shifts and warps into a strange lump of fatty, spongy tissue of a waxy color. she hands it to riley. riley says thanks sis youre the best, love you! amy says no problem. riley says id kiss you if i wasnt elbow deep in this guys cunt right now. amy says kiss me after the surgerys done.

another two hours go by. the sounds of flesh being chopped, sawed, and stitched underscore riley and amys meaningless conversation about whether they HAVE to attend their acquaintance lisa's birthday party. riley says lisa probably wouldn't throw a birthday party if there wasn't some sort of scheme going on. amy agrees but says that doesnt indicate whether they should get involved with the scheme or not. you wonder dimly if you will ever feel your lower body again. you wonder if this is purgatory, an endless afternoon of lesbians bickering affectionately while one of them does surgery on you. you turn your head enough to look at the clock. its 5:26pm. where the fuck did the time go?

another hour passes. riley stands up. she is soaked up to her elbow in various bodily fluids - mostly blood, but youre not looking too closely. she says finally! she says just need to regrow your nerve cells now. you say is that going to take long? she says like twenty minutes maybe as she flips you over. you say ok. she jams a different needle into the same spot, injecting a strange yellow paste into your spine. she then flips you onto your back again. you feel brave enough to finally look at your crotch.

there is a completely normal human penis of average size there. you reach a hand down and touch it. you dont have any sensation in it yet since your nerves are all still dead, but it feels warm and soft under your hands. you smile, feeling tears come to your eyes. its over.

rileys talking. she says i followed your specifications except i had to cheat a bit on the nerves, you actually didnt have very many in your clit for whatever reason so your glans has maybe eight thousand fewer nerves than you wanted, sorry about that. she says i gave you balls in your scrotum for shape but since you said you didnt want kids they dont produce sperm. let me know if you want that changed she says. she says it should be fully functional in every respect, but if you notice any erectile dysfunction, incontinence, discoloration in urine or semen, priapism, or any other issue come back and we'll sort it out. if you notice it bleeding in ANY capacity, call me immediately. if im not answering call Amy, ill give you her number. if SHES not answering either then you can start seeing normal doctors, not that those idiots will know how to help you probably. if you want any changes to it call me and ill pencil you in to get it adjusted. get all that she asks. you nod. she says cool. she says itll be like $200, no rush if youre not able to pay right now. you say it might be a bit since youre still trying to pay interest on your student loan debt. wait, she says, they have student loans again? you nod. she says the world ended like thirty years ago, when did they set up student loans again? fuck, how much do you owe? you say a little under eighty thousand. she says jesus fuck, nevermind, its free. goddamn. you say thank you so much. she says yeah of course. do you want us to dress you or do you want to wait until you can move and do it yourself?

#wormblr #parahumans #worm spoilers #riley davis #riley grace davis #bonesaw #nsft #amy dallon #panacea #MY BELOVED GIRL. IS BACK #our writing #dr riley davis mde

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magiccath · 5 months

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Pretending

tenth doctor x f!reader (no use of y/n)

summary: In which you take the Doctor to your brother's wedding as your "date"

warnings: f!reader (in a dress) who has a brother

“No mum, but I-” you let out an exasperated sigh, pacing about the TARDIS control room. As your mother chattered on through the phone you rolled your eyes, casting a quick glance at the Doctor.

He didn’t appear to be paying any attention to you, his gaze fixed on the console. He was messing with the buttons with no apparent rhyme or reason. He was probably just keeping busy while you tried to wrap the phone call up.

Unbeknownst to you, he was listening in on your conversation as much as he could without being obvious.

“Fine. I’ll be there, and…” you glanced at the Doctor again, relying on a hope that he would just play along with you, “I’ll bring someone.”

The Doctor pulled his attention to you, a questioning look plastered on his face. Did you have a secret boyfriend he didn’t know about? Who was this “someone” that you were going to bring home? The Doctor didn’t want to admit it, but he felt a pit of jealousy growing in him.

“I’ll see you soon,” you smiled, “I love you too,” you pulled the phone away from your face before slamming it closed with a sigh.

“What’s that about?”

“My brother’s wedding is this week, and my mom still expects me to bring someone,” you absentmindedly ran your fingers across the buttons of the TARDIS, “would it be too much to ask you to be my date?” you asked anxiously. You knew you were asking a lot of him, but you didn’t have any other options. You hoped he wouldn’t find it too weird.

“Not at all!” The Doctor grinned, Honestly, the Doctor was too distracted by the fact that you weren’t harboring a secret boyfriend to think before speaking. He was more than happy to do it, he would hardly have to pretend. He felt a dull pain in his chest thinking about being your boyfriend. He had to remind himself he was just a date to get your mom off your back. It wasn’t real.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “When is it?”

“Thursday at 4,” You smiled, surprised he was going along with this so easily. Usually, it took some convincing to get him to do the things that you wanted.

“Go get dressed,” he nodded towards the hallway with a smile.

You frowned and checked your watch.

“It’s Monday,” you laughed, ignoring him. He had absolutely no concept of time. It didn’t really matter when you were a space and time traveler. You had to remind him of important holidays like Christmas if you wanted to celebrate them. It wasn’t the kind of thing he thought about.

“Time machine,” he said as if reading your mind. He accentuated his point with a wink, flicking the switches on the console quickly.

You rolled your eyes but complied, leaving the control room to get ready. You pulled your best dress from the back of your closet. You never wore it, and you never had much reason to. You were always traveling with the Doctor, and a formal dress hardly seemed appropriate. Still, when you moved into the TARDIS you brought it with you. Just in case.

You’d bought the dress a month after traveling with the Doctor. You’d seen it in a shop window and the blue reminded you too much of the TARDIS to walk away from. The material was velvety and draped nicely, comfortably highlighting the natural curves of your body. If you looked closely at the fabric you could see the stars and planets etched into the crushed velvet.

Looking at it now it felt silly to buy a dress simply because it reminded you of a man you had just met. You tried to push these thoughts from your head and focus on getting ready.

When you were done you stood in front of the mirror, trying to make sure the girl looking back at you was still yourself. You couldn’t remember the last time you had dressed up like this. The last time you looked… this good.

You shook your head, pulling your focus back to the task at hand. You ran your hands through your hair anxiously before leaving. You walked down the hall carefully, stopping in the doorframe for a moment to look at the Doctor.

It was rare that you got to see him like this. His head was bent over the ship’s console, his brow furrowed in concentration. His spiky hair flew about in a million different directions. He had swapped his normal stripped suit for a plain black one. It was more properly fitted to his body, the black fabric draping over the sharp lines of his frame. You loved his normal suits, but there was just something about this one that had you captivated. Honestly, you found it hard to look away from him.

The Doctor turned towards you, the sound of your footsteps down the hallway pulling him from his work. The sight of you stopped him dead in his tracks, his eyes following the shape of your body in the doorframe.

“You look…” he trailed off, wide-eyed.

“Weird, I know,” you laughed, pulling anxiously at the hem of your dress.

“Beautiful,” He whispered, his honey eyes connecting with yours. The compliment made you turn away, a scarlet flush spreading across your cheeks.

He’d truly meant what he had said. Your hair fell elegantly around your face and shoulders, its color shimmering in the control room’s light. The Doctor couldn’t remember a time you had ever worn something so elegant or flattering. Not that your normal clothes were unflattering, there was just something special about seeing you in such fancy clothes. He was so used to your normal attire, that he found it hard to focus seeing you like this. He tried his best to keep his eyes from wandering, but it was hard.

You found you were having a similar problem with him and his nice suit. It’s not like you hadn’t ever seen him in a suit before, he wore one every single day. There was just a special kind of whiplash in seeing him in something he didn’t usually wear.

“Shall we?” You asked nervously, trying to catch the Doctor’s eye again. He swallowed anxiously before nodding in agreement.

He had already landed the TARDIS outside of the wedding venue while you were getting dressed. You took a deep breath preparing for what you were about to walk into. You truly loved your family, but they could be overbearing at times.

At the last moment, you held out your hand for the Doctor, a smile plastered on your face. Of course, he took it with an eager smile.

“What’s your brother’s name again?” He whispered as you walked out of the TARDIS doors. You slapped him lightly, assuming he was jesting. The Doctor didn’t want to admit that he really couldn’t remember. He wasn’t really good with names. Thankfully, the couple’s names were plastered everywhere, saving him the embarrassment of having to ask again.

It wasn’t long before your mother had rushed over, already dotting all over you. She fixed your hair and dress in places that didn’t really need to be fixed. The Doctor watched with a frown, examining the interaction like a nature documentary.

“You look darling,” she smiled, taking your face in her hands. Moving on from you, she pulled her attention to the man at your side. “Hello, Doctor!” She smiled, pulling him into an unsolicited hug.

“Mum,” you groaned, pulling on her sleeve. This was only her second time meeting the Time Lord, and she was already hugging him like family.

“Quite alright,” the Doctor grinned, hugging your mother back happily. He was a fan of hugs after all.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, how’s the traveling going?” she chattered on. You nodded along, not fully processing her words.

Surprisingly, the Doctor was still listening intently. He seemed to be enjoying her copious amounts of energy.

“She never really tells me where you go. I hope she isn’t too much trouble?” She continued. The doctor smiled politely and shook his head.

“If anything, I think I cause trouble for her,” he said, smiling at you adoringly.

Absentmindedly you slipped your hand into the Doctor’s. He rubbed reassuring circles with his thumb before removing his hand to wrap it around your waist.

You didn’t hear the Doctor’s answer or any that followed. The feeling of his strong hand on your waist was distracting enough. Holding hands was something you did all of the time. In a moment of great tension or danger, the Doctor would grab your hand without a second thought. If you were feeling lonely, you often would slip your hand into his. But he had never held you like this. Like you were a couple.

“Well!” your mother clapped, pulling you out of your haze, “I should let you show your date around,” she winked. She’d always liked the Doctor, even though mothers usually didn’t (according to the Doctor himself). Your mother was always trying to set you up with someone, so you could imagine how happy she was that you showed up with a date.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to the Doctor, turning in his arms, “they’re going to be brutal.”

“Oncoming storm, remember?” The Doctor smirked. It was typical of him to think he could handle anything. However, there was a major difference between your family and an army of Daleks.

“I’m the only remaining family member who isn’t married, my dating life is a big deal,” you warned, adjusting his tie anxiously. He didn’t stop you, he knew you just needed something to keep your hands busy.

“They’re all…” you looked up at him with an almost solemn look, “expecting of me.”

“Well,” The Doctor shrugged playfully, “you’ve got me here with you,” He smiled, pulling you closer to him, “You always have me.”

His words made you turn a scarlet red, and you were more than happy to see your brother out of the corner of your eye. If anything, he could serve as a distraction so the Doctor couldn’t see the impact his words had on you. You didn’t want him to assume you had an ulterior motive in asking him to be here.

You called him over excitedly, giving him a big hug before introducing him to the Doctor. The Time Lord smiled politely, introducing himself to your brother with an excited smile.

The rest of the evening went as such. You walked the Doctor around, trying your best to keep the introductions short and painless. He didn’t seem to mind though, he happily answered all questions and continued all conversations. The whole time he was touching you in some way. Holding your hand, wrapping an arm around your waist, hugging you when you really needed it. You couldn’t help but marvel at how well the alien played a boyfriend. You figured you’d have to edge him on a bit, grabbing his hand now and then. You had always just assumed that physical contact wasn’t something he consciously thought about.

Your family loved him of course. He charmed just about everyone in a mile radius without even trying. Before long he was laughing and talking like he was part of the family. It was weird, seeing your lives collide in such a way. Even still, it seemed so natural. You didn’t ever want the night to end. The cheerful laughter rumbled through you, the Doctor’s hand resting comfortably in yours.

Eventually, you left for a minute on your own, the Doctor following you shortly after. You had to admit, he was really selling this boyfriend thing well.

“You’re been an excellent actor,” you laughed when he came into your line of sight. You smiled at him, genuinely grateful that he had made this night enjoyable for you.

“I’m not acting,” the Doctor said, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

“It’s made this event so much more bearable and frankly-” you stopped suddenly. “What do you mean?” You asked confused. He wasn’t acting?

The Doctor looked at you wide-eyed, suddenly sensing he had said the wrong thing. “Nothing,” he mumbled, pulling his eyes away from yours. Something about the last few hours had given him the confidence to admit how much he enjoyed being with you in this capacity. But even further, something in your face now made him reconsider.

“What do you mean you aren’t acting? You hate this stuff.”

“What stuff?” He asked, deflecting.

“Romantic stuff.” You planted your hands on your hips, your stare relentless.

“Not with you,” He groaned, his eyes connecting with yours again. “I love doing this with you. Having you this close, having your full attention and affection.” He groaned, running his hands over his face.

“I don’t understand,” you laughed uncomfortably, averting your gaze.

“I want this. For real.”

You stared at the Doctor for a moment, letting his words register. Once it fully hit you, it felt like a weight was lifted off your chest.

You threw yourself into his arms, standing on your tip toes. You still weren’t tall enough, so you pulled him down to you, crashing your lips into his. He adjusted quickly, lifting you off the ground so he could properly kiss you.

As many times as you imagined kissing the Doctor, you never imagined it this perfectly. It seemed almost impossible that your lips fit together so well. His hands gripped you strongly as if he was afraid you would slip away. Your own hands tangled themselves into his hair, pulling at the locks slightly.

As he deepened the kiss a content sigh floated from your lips, eliciting a smile from his own. You couldn’t get enough of each other, pulling desperately to get closer. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted this, even if it was fairly obvious at this point. When you pulled away to gasp for air the Doctor stared into your eyes with a goofy grin.

“Can I stop pretending I’m not in love with you now?” He asked, and you threw your head back laughing.

#10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor/reader #tenth doctor/reader #10th doctor #tenth doctor #doctor who #david tennant #doctor who fanfic #doctor who fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

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ereardon · 5 months

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The Backup || Jake Seresin x Reader [teaser]

“That can’t happen again.”

“It will.”

You sighed loudly, flinging yourself backward onto the mound of pillows, knowing that he was right. Jake rolled off the bed, tugging on his boxers.

He grinned. “Any more bad dates planned for this week?”

“A blind date on Friday,” you replied, rolling onto your side to face him as Jake got dressed. “Someone that a secretary from my work knows.”

“A blind date, really?”

Ignoring his comment, you replied, “What about you?”

“No plans.”

“Which means that you’ll have a date lined up by Thursday.”

“And it’ll be a flop and we’ll be right back here on Friday night.”

“I’m serious Jake, this can’t keep happening.” You stepped out of bed, slipping on a silk robe and tying it tightly around your middle. “We can’t be each other’s fallback every time a date goes sideways.”

“So end it,” he said. “You’re the one that called me tonight, remember?”

“I’m weak,” you replied and Jake chuckled.

“You’re a lot of things, sweetheart, but weak isn’t one of them. Except when it comes to those mall pretzels.”

“Well those are objectively the best.”

“True.”

You watched as Jake finished getting dressed, tying his shoelaces, slipping on his jacket. “Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“Are we fucking each other up by doing this? Like are we the reason that every single date goes bad? Because I feel like lately they all end up sucking.”

“The dates are bad because our options are bad,” Jake replied. “We’re not cursed, Stinky. That’s just how these things go. You date and date and just when you think you want to fling yourself over the Golden Gate you find one person who suddenly makes things work. And then you live your weird Hallmark lives together forever.”

“You, Jake Seresin, believe that?” You raised your eyebrows. “What happened to the guy I met three years ago who didn’t realize that girls don’t want to come over to your fucking Tenderloin apartment and see a bed without a bed frame?”

“I loved that apartment and it was dirt cheap,” Jake argued. “Besides, you’re not much better. Remember when you thought guys actually liked girls who wore Birkenstocks?”

“They’re comfortable!”

“You looked like you were going to yell at me for not using a reusable jar to grind my own peanut butter at Whole Foods for twenty dollars an ounce. It was heinous. Also they smelled like ass.” Hence, the nickname that you hoped would die but never did.

“You’re just saying that because your type is girls who stomp around in size five Aquazzura heels on Market Street and have their daddy’s Amex card numbers memorized.”

“Better than your type. Mr. Couch potato, looks practically homeless and asks you to split the check at dinner because he’s too cheap to pay for your baked potato.”

“That happened twice, that’s not a pattern.”

“More than once is concerning.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re lucky you’re good in bed because I can’t fucking stand you.”

“Stop stroking my ego.”

“Goodnight, Seresin,” you said, walking toward the kitchen, your back to him. “Slam the door on your face on your way out, won’t you?”

“Night Stinky,” he said and you could hear his footsteps trailing down the hallway. “See you next weekend!”

You grabbed a half-empty bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the fridge door and slammed it, a little too hard, the sound of bottles inside rattling as you unscrewed the cap and chugged directly from the bottle. It was acidic, probably too old, but it would do the trick. Anything to block out Jake’s words that haunted the quiet air of your apartment even after he was gone.

He was right. Somehow the two of you always fell into bed together. The dates always went belly up. Hinge, Raya, Bumble, League. No app worked. No blind set up. It was like clockwork: you’d spend an hour getting ready for a date, and within five minutes you’d know that at the end you’d call an Uber to take you to Jake’s. Or vice versa: he’d show up at your door with a pocketful of condoms and a smirk. It always ended the same way. For almost a year, you and Jake had been filling the gaps of your dating life with each other. Friends with benefits. No strings.

And, of course, you made a point to keep it from the friend group. Coyote would throw an absolute fit if he found out.

[Note: Special shoutout to @clancycucumber230 for the idea!]

#jake hangman fic #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin #top gun imagine #jake hangman x you #jake seresin au #jake hangman imagine #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x reader #top gun x you #top gun x reader

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maximumsass · 2 months

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Don’t Forget to Breathe

Synopsis: It’s PECSA weekend as much as Melissa is excited to get her relaxation and party on, her girlfriend (aka you the beautiful reader) is absolutely dreading it due to your social anxiety. But you can see that your anxiety is rubbing off on her and now she's more concerned about you, then she's excited about going to PECSA. Will you be able to use your coping skills and actually enjoy yourself at PECSA with Melissa by your side or will you be consumed by your anxiety despite your best efforts of trying to lower it and end up in the hotel room the whole weekend?!

Author's Note: First I have to shout out @woman-simp for requesting the idea of going to PECSA with Mel and the reader having social anxiety but really not wanting to hinder Mel's PECSA experience. I thank you for the request, I never would've wrote this on my own so many thanks! i just really tried to convey the immense care and just all around cuteness Mel and the reader's relationship is. Honestly it's the relationship that I want my next relationship to be like! And i want that for all you beautiful people too!! Hope you enjoy it! Like always share your thoughts! And send me any requests you have! Sending y’all all da hugs and love!

Word Count: 3.5K

——————————————

It was Thursday night, the night before PECSA weekend. You had your suitcase open on your bed and you were running around like a chicken with your head cut off throwing everything you think you might need for the weekend in it. As you throw your favorite red bikini in it, you hear a snicker from the other side of the bed. You look up and see your girlfriend looking at you over her cat eye glasses trying to suppress another snicker.

“I’m so glad you find my packing anxiety amusing!” You say with a mock hurt expression.

“I’m sorry hun, you’re just so cute! And you have to admit it’s a little funny that you’re acting like you’ll never step foot into your place again.” She teases you with a chuckle.

“Hey, I gave you the option of us spending the night separately and then seeing each other tomorrow!” You retort and then stick out your tongue at the redhead. You quickly turn on your heels to the bathroom to double check you have everything in terms of toiletries.

You open the mirror that doubles as a medicine cabinet as you stare at it doing a mental inventory of all the medications you need. You feel strong arms wrap around your waist and then feel Melissa’s chin on your shoulder. You feel an instant release of the anxiety that had been buzzing around you just a second ago. You never had anyone in your life make you feel the calm that Mel has made you feel since you two started dating.

“I hope you know that I will never turn down an opportunity to spend the night with you angel. Especially if I know that your anxiety is rearing its ugly head. I know that you don’t want me to see you when you’re anxious, but it’s not just you anymore, anything that you go through from now on, I’m right beside you, we’re taking it head on together, let me in (Y/N), let me help you, let me take care of my girl.” She says softly and then gently kisses your cheek.

You take a deep breath. “I know, baby. I’m really trying to break down my walls to let you in, let you see all of me. It’s just a long and scary process. It may not seem like it but I’ve let you in more than I’ve let in anyone else. So that’s definite progress.” You say as you turn to face her and then take her face in your hands and place a slow and gentle kiss on those gorgeous red lips of hers.

When you break away, you turn back to the cabinet and grab two orange pill bottles.

“I thought you packed all your meds hun.” The redhead says with a concerned look on her face.

“I did but you know I am not the biggest fan of big crowds of people like there will be there at PECSA. I’m debating if I should just take both bottles, so I know I’m covered for the weekend.” You say as you stare at the bottles.

“That’s your anti-anxiety and panic attack meds right?” Mel asks and you nod your head. “Take both bottles, if not for you, do it for me so I know you’ll be good.” She gently instructs you.

You nod. As you take her hand and lead her back to the bedroom and place the meds in your suitcase. “See I’m already letting you take care of me.” You say to her with a grin.

“I see that! Now keep it up.” She says as she playfully bumps you.

You get this sinister look on your face. You quickly zip up your suitcase and place it on the floor. And then turn back to her with an evil grin.

“(Y/N) don’t you dare!” she screams playfully.

“I’m just smiling, I have no idea what you’re insinuating.” You say as you slowly step closer to her and then you lunge at her, pick her up, gently throw her on the bed and then get on the bed and lightly tickle her, her shrieks and your combined laughter fill the bedroom.

This turns into a passionate makeout session, which turns into you taking each other’s clothes off and a totally different kind of moaning fills the bedroom. You both sleep great and you wake up to your alarm, with the redhead’s head on your chest and arm curled around you. This is probably the cutest thing Melissa does with you, before y’all fall asleep she always makes sure she’s holding you and then she will not let go of you, even in her deepest sleep she doesn’t let go of you, and if you somehow you break away from her, just give her a few minutes and she will be holding you again. Even when y’all need to get up, it takes a bit of convincing for her to let you go. For a badass bitch who no one messes with, the fact that you get to see this cotton candy soft side of her, you know is a real honor.

“Baby, it’s time to get up.” You say softly in her ear.

“Mmmmmm noo, five more minutes.” She mumbles into your chest.

“We really need to get up gorgeous. You know how Barb will be if we make her wait.” You say softly.

You try to slide out from under her arm, this just makes her hold you tighter.

“No I don’t wanna let you go!” she whines playfully.

“What would the others say if I said that Melissa Schemmenti was a complete and utter cuddle bug in bed?” You tease as you kiss her forehead.

“Well one you wouldn’t dare! And two they totally wouldn’t believe you!” She said in a matter of fact tone as she traced patterns on your chest.

“You’re right, I wouldn’t tell them. Mostly because I love it when you’re like this.” You say as you softly kiss her.

“I love that you love it, I wasn’t like this with Joe or anyone else for that matter. You make me feel so safe and so happy, and I just want to be close to you at all times, it helps me stay grounded because a lot of the time this feels too good to be real.” She says as she looks at you with vulnerability mixed with adoration.

“I promise this is real and that you deserve to feel so safe and happy. I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel those things every day. And will always want you to hold me. ” You say as you gaze into her eyes. And then kiss her passionately, tongues colliding, lips dancing with each other, you pull her beautiful naked body so it’s pressed up against your nakedness. You both moan as your bodies make contact.

When you break away to get oxygen, Jessical Rabbit gives you a smirk. “You Miss We Need to Get Up Right Now, are not making it easy to get up.” She says as she gets this devious look on her face, and then she is simultaneously sliding her fingers along your folds while simultaneously giving your nipple a playful nibble. And then before you can comprehend what’s happening, she is climbing over you and walking to the bathroom.

“Dibs on the first shower!” She calls back to you.

“Now that’s just cruel!” You exclaim with sexual frustration.

You hear her chuckle to herself in the bathroom. You throw on some PJ’s and then order some surprise coffees to be delivered for the redhead. Barb, and yourself.

When she comes into the kitchen, you can’t help but smile. She's wearing a green tank top with a denim button down shirt and black leggings that show off her gorgeous legs and of course that juicy ass of hers.

“Even though you were mean to me, I got you a surprise coffee.” You say teasingly as you hand her the coffee and take another bite of the french toast stick you made for yourself while waiting for her to finish.

“Oh my god. Do not tell me that’s the frozen shit you used to survive before we got together?! I was gonna make us but you especially breakfast! You need more nutrition and calories, Miss I am 100 lbs soaking wet!” She exclaims in an exasperated tone.

You put on the puppy dog eyes and a faux pout. “115 lbs wet, thank you very much! And I was hungry and I didn’t want us to be late because you would’ve insisted on making me something because god forbid, I go without a meal on your watch.’ You say rolling your eyes.

“You can act annoyed all you want, I know you love how much I fuss over you and take care of you. I wouldn’t have to fuss if you would make caring for yourself a priority. I know it’s something that you’re working on in therapy, but until you’re there, I will always make your well-being one of my highest priorities and make sure you are doing the things you need to so we can live a long healthy life together.” She says as she wraps you in a warm hug and kisses your head.

“I’m going to get ready. Thank you for always having my best interest in mind, especially when I forget to do that for myself.” You say as you kiss her cheek.

“Hey before you go, I thought of something in the shower. I remember you saying that when you’re in the midst of high anxiety, you forget to breathe. So I had an idea. When you feel yourself going into that high anxiety mode, just remember me saying to you, “Don’t Forget to Breathe” and then do three deep breaths. And if I can see your anxiety spiking, I’ll say Don’t Forget to Breathe and we’ll do three deep breaths together. Will you at least try it once with me now? And see how you feel?” She asks in a pleading tone.

“Okay, I’ll try it, just for you.” You say to her as you rub her arm.

You look directly into each other's eyes. “Don’t forget to Breathe.” She gently instructs and then as if your souls become one you take three deep breaths in unison.

You both stare at each other for a moment, letting the silence wash over both of you. You actually feel yourself tearing up, and see that her emerald eyes have tears in them too.

“You are the most thoughtful person I’ve ever met. And from just listening to my experiences, you’ve come up with a coping skill that I think will actually help me. I really do feel better after doing that. And the fact that you came up with it, just makes it all the more meaningful for me. I never thought someone could care this much for me. I’m so grateful for you Mel and you just mean the world to me.” You wrap her in a hug and just hold her trying to transfer all the gratitude and all the love you have for her. And then after you hug and kiss for a little bit you head to the bathroom to shower.

When you are all done getting ready, you grab Mel’s and your bags and bring them to the front door so you can just head out. You walk back to the kitchen and see Mel and Barb sitting at the table chatting. You watch your girlfriend smile so big and toss her head back as she laughs, you love seeing Mel like this, so free.

“Good Morning my two gorgeous ladies!” You greet them chipperly.

“(Y/N)! Good Morning! Melissa told me you were behind the coffee I so needed this morning. How very thoughtful of you dear!” She says as she smiles brightly at you. “You have a wonderful woman on your hands Melissa, if you have any sense which I know you do, you’ll keep her around for the rest of your life, because you deserve to be treated like the queen you are and that little girl obviously understands the homework!” She says as she looks at her friend with a I know best look.

“Aww Barb, that's so sweet of you to say! And for future reference it’s understood the assignment, not the homework. But you were close!” You say to the brunette.

As Melissa loads both of your bags in the car because she insisted that she get yours too, and who can argue with a little chivalry, you pull Barb aside.

“I need to ask you a favor. I’ve told you a little about my anxiety. Crowds like the crowds at PECSA aren’t the ideal environment for me. But don’t worry, I’m fine and I’ll handle it. My favor of you is to keep Melissa entertained/distracted so she doesn’t worry about me this whole conference. I know this is one of the few times she unwinds and lets her hair down and actually has fun, and I will not be the one who takes that way from her.” You say as you look at Barb pleadingly.

“Of course I will (Y/N). But if you’re not okay, please let one of us know so we can help.” She says with a concerned look.

You just smile at her because asking for help is the very last resort for you and the likelihood of you asking for it is slim to none.

The car ride there is great because Barb and Melissa just talk the whole way as you doze in the back.

Melissa looks at you in the rear view mirror she smiles to herself, you look so peaceful as you sleep, she wishes that she could make you feel that peaceful for the entire conference.

“I’m worried about (Y/N) Barb. Being around this many people isn’t good for her anxiety. I just wish I could take on her anxiety so she doesn’t have to go through this shit.” She says quietly to her friend.

“I know it’s hard to watch someone you care about struggle and feel like there’s nothing you can do to comfort them. But you and I both know what a strong, independent, intelligent, and very capable young woman (Y/N) is, I know she’ll be just fine and just having you there I’m sure is a great comfort to her.” Barb says as she gently squeezes the redhead’s arm in assurance.

You get to the hotel, you check in and then Mel checks in. Mel and Barb discuss making an appearance at the opening EXPO and making their presence known before they hit the pool. You already feel the anxiety building up within you just seeing the vast number of people in the lobby who are checking in.

You don’t notice Mel and Barb’s conversation has ended until you hear your name being called and you feel a hand on your arm. You snap back to the lobby, you look down at the hand on your arm and then you realize Melissa is standing in front of you with a very concerned look on her face.

“You ready to go?” You ask, trying to act like nothing happened.

She takes a deep breath trying to calm herself down. “(Y/N), I had to say your name five times and touch you until you could answer me. Don’t act like that didn’t just happen. Are you okay?” She says in a concerned and frustrated tone.

“I’m fine angel, just tired, let’s just go find our room.” You say as you take her hand and squeeze it trying to comfort her a little.

“Hey. Look at me. Don’t forget to breathe.” She says and then you proceed to do three deep breaths together. And then you walk to the room hand in hand.

We get to the room and unpack, I tell Melissa that since I have to go to the sessions for my Continuing Education Credits, I’m skipping the EXPO and going to the pool and she and Barb can meet me there. I put on my red bikini as she gets ready for the EXPO.

“You better make it very clear to everyone that flirts with you because of how irresistible you look, that you are very much taken, and your girlfriend would do slightly unethical things to them if they tried anything with you.” She says with a smirk, you know it’s 40% of a joke, 60% of her being serious and just waiting for someone to fuck around and find out.

“You know that you are the only person in the world who has my heart, and that’s a forever kinda thing gorgeous.” You say softly as you kiss her.

“How do you always know just what to say to make me feel better?” She asks after we stopped kissing.

“It’s my special talent.” You say giving her a grin.

“It sure is. Okay I’m off to get Barb. See you at the pool, pretty girl.” She says as she kisses your head and rushes out of the room.

The rest of the day flies by, you sit by the pool by yourself and just enjoy the mellow vibes playlist that sends you into a zen bliss. Barb and Mel find you at the pool and you sit on a pool lounge chair with Mel, her legs draped over your lap as you listen to Barb and her talk while rubbing your hands over the redhead’s legs, and of course the redhead cant keep her hands off of you especially since she’s drank some of her pina colada. You then go and get dressed, and then go find Janine and Jacob to endure the sessions with. It’s not as bad as you thought, the only thing that spikes your anxiety is when everyone is filing into the sessions. You hear Melissa’s voice in your head, “Don’t forget to breathe.” And then three deep breaths just like you did with her at your place and the lobby. Before you know it, it’s PECSA Party time, the thing you’ve been dreading the most about PECSA.

You get ready in your room, Melissa is still with Barb you assume, they probably got ready and are having the time of their lives at the party. You are in the bathroom doing your makeup, and you hear someone try once, twice, three times before the door comes flying open.

“Baby!!!” Melissa squeals when she finds you in the bathroom.

You can’t help but laugh at your clearly tipsy girlfriend.

“Well someone’s had a fun day.” You chuckle.

“It’s been so much fun! I love Barb! And I love mathorita’s!” She exclaims.

“I will definitely have to try one of those mathorita’s. Now before we go back down, you have to drink this whole bottle of water. Okay?” You say as you pull out a bottle of water from the mini fridge. You take off the cap and hand her the bottle. She nods and starts drinking.

“Okay I’m ready!” You say as you walk out, the redhead is looking at her phone, when she looks up her jaw drops. You’re wearing this tight black bodycon dress that accentuates all of your curves.

“(Y/N), you look absolutely stunning. How did I get so lucky to have the most gorgeous woman at this conference on my arm and that you’re my girl?” She says in genuine surprise.

“You are the most gorgeous woman at this conference, miss.” You say as you smile at her. She comes over and hugs you.

“You feel tense, babe. Are you okay? We don’t have to go to the party, y’know we can just stay here, order some food, I can take this gorgeous dress off of you and then please you until I see you in that orgasmic bliss that I can’t get enough of.” She says as she gives you a seductive look.

That is literally all you want to do tonight. But you know how much Melissa loves the PECSA parties and you won’t be the reason why she doesn’t get to shut a PECSA Party down.

“No, let's go to the party, I promise I’m fine. Let’s go get our party on with Barb!” You exclaim.

“Okay but we have to do one thing before we walk out the door.” The redhead says with a smile.

You lock eyes with her. “Don’t forget to breathe.” She gently instructs. And then once again you breathe deeply three times in unison.

The party actually isn’t as bad as you think. And when your anxiety did ramp up, Melissa would instantly feel it sometimes before you felt it and would whisper those four words in your ear and then you’d breathe in unison and then be able to ground yourself enough to enjoy the moment you were in.

As Barb described the party the next morning “It was a film!” And you had to agree it was definitely a movie. One that did end with the redhead taking off your dress and sending you right into that orgasmic bliss.

#wlw #abbott elementary #fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #lesbian #queer #pansexual #biseuxal #girls like girls

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potatomountain · 2 months

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CIY- 8

Chapter Eight

📍pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader

📍word count: 3.3k

📍network: @pirateeznet

📍Warnings: mentions of mxm relationships.

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer, @yessa-vie and @daesukiii

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Before you knew it, a week had flown by and a routine was formed. Mornings were spent going to your deli and getting your coffee, where you started picking up San's as well. You weren't sure if you should grab it today since he informed you on Thursday that he had to go undercover for the weekend.

You hadn't seen Yunho or Mingi until Friday, which you expected when you heard Mingi the night before loud and clear. Of course, you bitched at him when you saw him, surprised by how easy the banter that followed and the insults. The same thing happened Saturday and even last night you had heard him. It was getting annoying, even if you had ways to block out most of the sound, you didn't like how it made you feel.

San didn't make it any easier, casually flirting with you, laying on the charm and compliments whenever he could just to leave you flustered but he was respectful about his timing. All week until he had left, leaving you frustrated in a whole new way with his absence. The fact you missed him during the weekend left a bad taste in your mouth, you didn't want to get attached. This position was temporary at best, the unlikelihood of it being permanent better than at first but still slim.

Two weeks didn't make you part of the team after all. Even if you had a growing routine and the reception was less icy, you knew that.

Getting your hopes up was a bad idea, yet here you were, standing in line at the deli for the coffee and breakfast you got almost every morning. You debated on getting San's coffee, since he said he should be there today. Would he be beaten up like last time? The bruises and cuts had barely healed before he went off and you had to admit you were a little worried.

That might be because of your old unit. Hyunjin would complain if he had a cut on his pretty face and Jisung couldn't handle a cold. Neither could Binnie, with both Felix and Minho mothering whenever anyone was injured or feeling sick. Then there was Chan-

Sighing, you shook your head, not ready to go down that road just yet. Today was the last day of your probation and you still weren't ready to talk to him or half of them- Hyunjin had been the exception because, well, he was Hyunjin. And he didn't give you the option to be ready, he insisted on being a part of your life as if nothing had happened: which you truthfully appreciated.

“Why’s such a pretty thing like you sighing? The week just started.” A voice behind you garnered your attention, so you turned to look. A pretty attractive man widened his smile, which surprised you wasn’t sleazy in the least; despite his outfit screaming a typical sleazy man. The animal print button-up, sunglasses pushing his dual-toned hair back, and the hint of a tongue stud as he licked his lips- normally it would have you sneering but on him it looked damned good. Maybe it was the eyeliner?

Either way, he was hot, and he called you pretty. “Mm no particular reason, maybe I’m just not feeling up to work today?” You offered a smile, deciding to take it a step further. “Definitely don’t want to now, not when my day just got more interesting.”

You were glad that his charming smile turned more flirty, even more so when he stepped up next to you. “I’d have to agree, not really in a hurry for my coffee now. You are much more refreshing, pretty girl.”

“Already onto pet names? Before I get your name?” You couldn’t help but tease.

He chuckled, holding out his hand. “Friends call me Mito. Nice to meet you-” Once you gave your name, he hummed thoughtfully. “Pretty name for a pretty girl. Gotta say I think I’d remember seeing such a beauty around here. New job brings you this way?”

You didn’t regret your words when he was looking at you like that, as if you were the best damned meal he ever saw and he couldn’t wait to get a taste. Hell, you were ready to let him have it. Maybe it was because he was the first in a while that had flirted with you? That was a lie, there were plenty. You just had your eyes set on someone else before… now just about anyone was up for grabs.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, I recently moved to the area too. Do you come here often? To this cafe?”

“A friend of mine told me to check it out, I usually go to another one about a block away.” He hummed out, stepping with you as the line moved. “But if you’re here, that’s plenty of reason to make this a regular stop.”

“Or you could just ask for my number?” The words were out before you could even stop yourself, fighting off the heat that flooded your cheeks. Were you that touch-starved that you would be so bold with a man you just met? Who didn’t even give you his real name, just a nickname?

Did that make you easy? Should you be ashamed? Maybe, but it really had been so damned long and it wasn’t like you were going to pull your clothes off for him right now.

“Then how about your number first? And I buy your coffee?” He finally offered once he pulled his eyes back to yours.

No harm in at least seeing where this goes right? “I’ll put my number in for you.” Holding out your hand, you couldn’t help but be a little giddy when he handed you his phone, contacts already open. Few seconds later and you sent yourself a text from his, handing it back just in time for the both of you to step up to the counter to order.

He rattled off four different drinks, while you rattled off two- one of them the same as one of his. You thought it was interesting, San having a common order. “Drinks for friends?”

“Co-workers. What about your extra?” Mito countered, a cheeky grin on his lips as the two of you stepped aside to wait.

“Co-worker.” One that definitely got to you in a way a co-worker shouldn’t… you could blame your sudden boldness on him. Yeah, this was all their fault. San with all his flirting and teasing and Mingi with his constant annoyance and sex sounds the past few nights.

You tried not to show how heated that train of thought made you, nor did you want to admit it any further than that.

“Mm well they’re lucky to get a coffee on me.” He winked, not at all bothered to have bought it.

“I’ll let him know the hottie at the coffee shop hopes he enjoys his coffee.” Laughing, you relaxed against the counter next to him, the two of you sharing a flirty glance. “I also appreciate it, it definitely makes my day better.”

He shrugged. “My absolute pleasure dear, I can always make your day better in other ways too. Help you relax at the end of a long day of work.”

Now that sounded really tempting. Before you could further flirt, your drinks were announced. “Well, that’s our cue, I really needed to get to work anyways.” You didn’t think they would care, but if San was there you did want to get him his coffee and check up on him. “Call me?”

You wanted to tell someone about the hottie at the cafe… was it too soon to text Hyunjin about it? Would San listen? You grimaced at that idea. Sure, tell one man you wanted to bone about a complete stranger that was much more likely to get into your pants and fast.

“Oh definitely. Good luck, beautiful.” He sent a wink in your direction before he turned to start grabbing a few of the good sugars and things. You didn’t stick around to see what he did with them.

It wasn’t until you were halfway down the street that you realized you had forgotten your usual breakfast; instead of turning around to go grab it, maybe giving you a chance to see him again, you shrugged it off. Just meant a bigger lunch or you could always order something.

Such an amazing idea for sure.

Sighing as you headed into the office, you could hear the voices in the back, but you weren’t in a rush to see them just yet. You took your time setting your bag down and your laptop before grabbing San’s coffee to see if he was back.

You might have gotten a little too excited to hear his laugh when you approached the office door, only for it to drain away when you did see him. “Fuck that looks bad.”

“I’m so touched, sweetcheeks.” He had fully taken the pet name from Hyunjin and made it his own- considering how it still managed to fluster you a bit even if you were rolling your eyes at him.

San glanced up when you hissed out, brightening up despite his black eye and arm in a sling. “I’ve missed that beautiful face.” With a dimpled grin he slid off the desk to make his way over to you, stopping only because of the glare you gave him. “What? It’s not as bad as it looks!”

Rolling your eyes you approached. “Sure it isn’t, that sling is just for show. Sit your ass down, I brought you coffee.”

“Aw, but you didn’t know I was going to be here today-”

“Can you two not with the damned couple bullshit?” Jongho sneered from his desk, currently cleaning his weapon. “If it’s not you two flirting up a fucking storm, she’s at Mingi’s throat and I can’t ever tell if they are gunna fuck or fight… or both.”

Yunho laughed from his spot, nudging his friend next to him. “Well that would be great to see regardless. Think you would come out on top?”

Mingi scoffed. “Of course I would, that tiny thing couldn’t handle me. All bark, no bite, like a damned chihuahua.”

“Chihuahua’s bite.” Yunho pointed out with a grin. “And I think this little pet would claw and do some damage. Might be hot as hell though.”

Jongho gagged, pointing his empty mag at the two. “Truth be told my money is on the chihuahua, we forget Mingi is scared of dogs that bite.”

You ignored their banter for the most part, considering it was becoming a daily thing for you, and instead made San sit at his desk while he was watching you with an expression that was almost sweet. “I was hoping you would be, sue me if that makes me soft but at the moment, you are the only thing keeping me from putting a bullet in half the idiot's heads here.” You matched his grin, taking his coffee over to the little coffee station to look for the sugars he liked.

There was a loud bang from a door down the hall, what you recognized as the back entrance, but you ignored it until an unfamiliar- or perhaps somewhat familiar- voice rang in through the office.

Only to freeze.

“I’m back, bitches!!” In a high-pitched singsong tone, a new person stepped into the office. Curious, and suspecting this to be the final detective of the unit you hadn’t met, you glanced over your shoulder.

The gaudy shirt gave him away immediately, the man from the cafe setting the coffee’s on the unused desk as he began talking a mile a minute. “Sannie my man, looking better from the fight already. Got us quite a bit of rep this time around and what better way to celebrate than with a great fucking pussy? Seriously met the hottest fucking broad getting coffee, had no idea such a beauty would be around here but like fuck- got her number.” He giggled like a schoolgirl, bringing a coffee over to San.

San grinned up at him. “You do seem to work fast but I’ll pass on the coffee. Got one already.” He motioned over towards you, Mito turning to finally notice your presence.

Seriously, what was with you and wanting to fuck your coworkers?

“How’d you get one- OH!” It was with great amusement, and perhaps dismay, that he dropped the hot beverage when he realized you were right there in the room. San was quick, catching it mid-air and cursing as he set it aside. “Holy fuck what is my luck today? This is that new job huh?”

Now you weren’t so sure you would take him up on his offer of after-work pleasure; not that you didn’t find him attractive just that you were attempting to draw a line. The whole reason you really hadn’t taken it past flirting with San; he was a co-worker.

“Hi there again, Mito. I take it you would be the famed Jung Wooyoung?” With a light laugh, you waved, attempting civility.

“You two know each other?” Mingi grumbled, leaning in as if this was juicy gossip. He wasn’t the only one, even Jongho had stopped cleaning the barrel of his gun to glance at the still-shocked detective.

Wooyoung recovered quickly, cheeky grin back. “The hottie whose number I got- was hers. Mmm, I get to see you in the office too? Damn- wait, how the fuck had no one told me we have a drop dead gorgeous Goddess as part of our unit now?” He swiveled on the others.

“Didn’t think it was relevant.” San bristled, glancing over at you and the coffee you brought. “Plus you were undercover.”

“Undercover?” Wooyoung asked in obvious confusion. “She doesn’t know how we do things does she?”

Something about the way he said it piqued your interest. You already questioned some things they did here, writing it off as part of the job and necessary: Like Mingi’s constant fucking, how bad the fights were with San, and how deep of an undercover this new detective had to be to have the same influence as Hwon- a known freelancer in the underbelly of the city. That seemed like a pretty solid reputation that would require some years, and better product than just one fighter to get.

You couldn’t help but scoff. “They set the bar pretty low, I'm sure you’ll be fine. Already making a better impression than most of them in the full two weeks I’ve been here.” You shrugged off his advances, turning to finish making San’s coffee which you just now realized you knew by heart… after barely a week.

So why did he act as if being undercover was news to him?

Before you could question him, Captain came in with Seonghwa right behind him. “She’s still in a trial run Wooyo, calm yourself. We were also waiting until you got back to see about field work…” The look he shared with his vice didn’t go unnoticed, not when you were on edge, observing every little tick between the seven of them.

“Oh so she gets to work with me now? Fucking sweet.” Cheering a little, he turned back to you with a wide grin. “So beautiful, I know I can’t compare to some of these fine gentlemen but I promise to treat you good- in the field and out of it.” With a wink he made his way over to you, more flirtatious than he had been back at the cafe. Which would have been nice if you weren’t actively fighting off attraction now.

Fuck.

Wooyoung whistled next to you. “Man were they that disappointing in bed? Wow their game must have dropped considerably. I can make it better for ya.”

Mingi and Yunho both looked up at his comment, stopping the little conversation they were having, just as you glanced up at him. “If you’re implying I slept with any of them, no. Aside from mostly San, they were more ready to kick my ass to the curb.”

You took a second to glance around the room, noticing that Yeosang had joined in and was grabbing a coffee from the few that Wooyoung brought. Seonghwa looked much more stressed than normal and even Hongjoong seemed a little ticked off, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. Jongho had gone back to cleaning his gun but there was an ever present smirk on his face while Yunho seemed to be enjoying the chaos unfolding. Mingi’s reaction struck you as the oddest, as he almost appeared as panicked as San did.

“WHAT?!” The holy shriek he let out had you flinching, but he was already turning to the others. “You are telling me that you have been gazing on this fine fucking beauty for two whole fucking weeks and none of you have even gotten a taste? Shameful. All of you are absolutely shameful.” He tsked dramatically, taking in the view as you brought San his coffee. “Not even you Sannie?”

“Not all of us think with our dicks-”

“Mingi does- Fuck not even Mingi fucking Malik had a taste? Ya’ll trippin. Where does she even sit? Was she at my desk? Please say yes-”

“Receptionist.” Seonghwa finally stepped into the conversation, fixing Wooyoung with a glare while Hongjoong was giggling under his breath behind him. “Wooyoung, can you please quiet it? It’s Monday-”

He was broken off by Wooyoung’s flabbergasted gasp. “Up front alone? Damn they really gave you the cold shoulder. It’s okay, beautiful, Wooyoung is here now. Need a nice warm seat, my face is available- or dick. Wouldn’t mind being a step stool either.”

It seemed he would have ranted more if San hadn’t ignored the coffee in your hand to reach out and grab the man’s jaw instead, squeezing it still. “Wooyoung- stop. Fucking stop. Do you think it’s nice to be talking about how you want to fuck our new addition to the unit in front of her?”

“No-” Wooyoung got out through the grip, glancing over at you as you watched with a lifted brow. “I really don’t get why you haven’t- yall fuck around a lot. And she’s beautiful.”

His constant praise was a bit touching, and a few things he said had been very tempting, but you were determined to keep it professional. “I don’t want to sleep with my unit members anyways.”

“Why not?”

“Complicates the job.” You admitted, finding yourself much more calmer despite the turn this morning had taken. Back to square one really.

Wooyoung scoffed, pulling out of San’s grip to look you right in the eye. “Can’t imagine how- or are you unaware that half the time we are on each other’s dicks? I mean Captain’s office is locked half the time because his pants are down and he’s having a grand ol’ time with-” His mouth was quickly covered by San who appeared panicked.

What the fuck were you missing?

“So what, you all fuck each other? In the office too?” You looked around for clarification but the only one who would look at you was Yunho and he just smirked wider.

San seemed even more panicked, glaring at Wooyoung only to be pushed back down on the desk. With his arm in the bind, he fell back. “See for yourself, beautiful.”

Out of all the things that you could expect, watching the new detective lock lips with San was definitely not on the list. Your mouth dropped open, eyes going wide as you tried to comprehend just what you were seeing.

You didn’t have time to process at all, Hongjoong calling out your name before he grabbed your arm and pulled you to your office. The only thought in your head was why were you getting pulled into the office?

Seriously… what the fuck.

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

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ijustreallylovethem · 3 months

Text

#12 cockwarming

the list masterlist

you were struggling. midterms were coming up and you had been spending every waking moment of your life with your nose in a book studying. connor was worried for you, honestly. he hadn’t seen you eat in a few days now and he wasn’t sure you had showered since thursday night. he was almost sure you had cut back on sleep to study as well.

he wasn’t sure what to do. he could pull you away from your studies but he was certain that would only result in you having a bad attitude. he could make you food but he couldn’t force you to eat it. could he force you to shower? before he could weigh his options on that, you came stumbling out of your room. he was honestly surprised to see you, and he was even more surprised when you clambered into his lap. you sighed as your body relaxed against his, his hand running gently up and down your back.

“hey, stranger.”

“hi,” you whispered.

“hungry?” you shook your head.

“i ate earlier. i think you were in the shower.” you knew he was in the shower, actually. you had been holed up in your room but you hadn’t been studying the whole time. you were also avoiding connor. you had recently come to the realization that your feelings for him were stronger than just best friends and roommates that hook up, and that terrified you. but you knew you couldn’t keep it to yourself and you knew you couldn’t avoid him forever. so you studied and avoided until you couldn’t take it anymore. and now here you were.

“oh, i didn’t realize. i thought i was gonna have to force feed you.” he laughed softly and you hummed against his neck in acknowledgment. then it was silent for a moment.

“hey con?” now he was the one who hummed. “i need to tell you something.” you were still quiet and he didn’t like the tone you spoke in. his mind was immediately moving at the speed of light thinking of anything and everything you could possibly have to tell him.

“what’s up?” he feels you take a deep breath, your arms tightening a bit around his neck before letting go again.

“i think… i think i like you as more than my best friend.” the entire room is silent after your confession. that is, until you start to do damage control. “it’s okay if you don’t feel the same but i really needed to tell you and it was getting to the point where i couldn’t do anything else until i told you. i couldn’t even focus on my study guides and i really need to study so i just had to tell you. i’m sorry. i-“ his hand ran up your back, grabbing the back of your neck and gently pulling your head from his neck.

“stop. don’t apologize.” you swallow harshly, looking directly at him.

“con-“ he cuts you off again by leaning forward and connecting your lips. the kiss is slow and passionate, both of you pouring your emotions into it. when he pulls away, he rests his forehead on yours.

“i like you as more than my best friend too.”

“you do?” you lean back so you can see him fully.

“i do.”

“you do,” you whisper. connor can’t help but smile widely.

“so what do you say we make things official? how does that sound?” you nod quickly, pulling him into another kiss. this time when he pulls away, he just admires you. or at least, he plans to. but now he can tell just how tired you are, how much this has taken a toll on you.

“stop looking at me like that,” you say, reaching up to hold a hand over his eyes. he scoffs, pushing your hand away.

“you need a nap, babe.” you’re immediately shaking your head.

“not right now. i just got you! we’ll, officially got you. and i don’t wanna let go of you just yet.”

“is that so?” you nod.

“just want you.” the shells are instantly turning in connor’s head, an idea formulating.

“well, you know, i think there’s still something left on my list.” you cock a brow at him.

“there is? it’s not too much is it? because i am tired, i just don’t wanna leave you.” he shakes his head, lightly pushing your hips to get you to grind against him a bit. he can’t help his reaction to the movement and the soft moan you let out.

“don’t worry, baby. you don’t have to do anything.” he pulls her in for another kiss, this one slightly more heated than the last two, as you continue rocking back and forth on his lap. after a few moments, he breaks away from the kiss and halts your hips.

“connor-“

“shhh. i got you.” he taps your ass twice and you lift herself up on your knees, giving him the space to pull his sweats down just enough to free his length from the confines of the fabric. then he pulls your sleep shorts and panties to the side, using his other hand to line himself up as you slowly sink down on him. you moan when he bottoms out, loving the way you feel so full. he wraps his arms around you, which you assume is to keep you in place as he fucks up into you, but he never moves. so you wiggle your hips.

“connor,” you whine. he just shakes his head.

“nope, just gonna stay here.” suddenly it clicks in your head.

“oh. okay.” you lean into his chest, letting your head fall back into the place between his neck and shoulder. he reaches up and cards his fingers through your hair.

“take a nap, y/n,” he whispers. “i’ll be right here the whole time.” you yawn, nodding the best you can.

“okay. goodnight, connor.” he turns his head, kissing your temple.

“goodnight, y/n.”

#raegan talks about blurbs #connor bedard #the list

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mynameismckenziemae · 2 months

Text

In Case You Didn’t Know

Part 11

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: Stress and whiskey loosens Jake’s lips.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, mutual masturbation, toy use, discussion of kinks, a little cliffy at the end there.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“Okay, okay Jake,” you scold, laughing breathlessly as he ruts against you in the kitchen as you’re trying to make mimosas. “Your mom and Emma are gonna be here any minute. Do you really want them to see you with a boner?”

He sighs before nipping your ear and stepping back. “Yeah, you’re right. I just can’t get enough of you. And knowing you’re gonna be my wife in 2 short weeks is making me crazy.”

“I know, I can’t wait either,” you smile over your shoulder at him. Oh, did Bradley book his flight yet?”

“Yeah, he’ll be here the Tuesday before to help out and make sure his suit fits. The rest of the squad won’t be here until Thursday afternoon. We just gotta figure out a way to keep him and Emma separated,” he jokes.

“You know, they would make a cute couple,” you muse.

He hums in agreement. “They would. I just don’t want to see him get hurt. He plays the carefree himbo well, but he’s got a big heart. He’d worship the ground she walks on if she’d let him in,” he sighs, wrapping his arms around you again and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Y’all fucking or are-ow, Ma!” Emma calls from the front door.

“We’re in the kitchen, fully clothed!” You laugh.

“That’s a first,” Emma mutters, rubbing her arm where Ruth pinched her.

“Learn to knock and you won’t see anything you don’t want to,” Jake replies hugging her before turning and doing the same with Ruth.

“How’s the new job?” Emma asks as she hops on the counter.

“Pretty good. A bit stressful learning the ropes myself and constantly having to tell the new recruits what to do, when to do it, and dolling out push-ups when they mess up. I feel like I’m babysitting most of the time. It’ll get better though once I get used to things,” Jake replies.

“It will. Give yourself a break, baby,” Ruth pinches his cheek. “Your daddy’s outside with Cash. I swear he loves that dog more than any of us,” Ruth sighs.

“Can’t blame him, he’s a good dog. Mimosas?” You offer.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Jake jokes, reaching for a flute, but you push it out of reach and give his denim-clad butt a swat.

“No sir, don’t you dare. They’re for us girls, now get outta here so I can try on the dresses.”

“Yes ma’am. I like it when you’re bossy,” he winks, rubbing the spot you popped him before he pecks your cheek and heads out the door.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“Wow, how many did you buy?” Emma asks wide-eyed as she looks at the dresses in your arms.

“12,” you laugh. “The website has free return shipping. I wasn’t sure what style looks best on me, I haven’t worn a gown since prom.”

“You can pull off anything,” Emma smiles. “But it’s good to have options.”

Ruth dabs her tears with each dress you try, but her tissue can’t keep up when you come out of your room with the 10th one. It’s fitted, with a low back with loose lace sleeves and it fits like a glove.

“Oh Charlie, you’re glowing,” she whispers.

“Yup,” you smile. “This is the one.”

“I agree,” Emma murmurs, coming up behind you to get the button you couldn’t reach. “Jake won’t be able to keep his eyes or his hands off you.”

You grin and look at Ruth. “Think mom would like it?”

Just as you say it a breeze floats through the living room window and you swear you smell her sweet perfume.

Emma and Ruth look at each other and then at you with wide eyes; they smell it too.

“There’s your answer, hun,” Ruth says with a watery smile.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“Charlie-darlin’, where you at?” Jake calls as he comes in the front door hours later. “Casher, where’s your mama? Find mama, buddy.”

That Texas drawl coming out tells you he’s been drinking and you burst into giggles as Cash comes running, smothering you with kisses.

“Working out, I’ll be done in a few. There’s a plate in the fridge if you’re hungry,” you reply once Cash lets up, running back to the kitchen to find Jake at the word ‘fridge’.

“Hell yeah, meatloaf!” Jake says excitedly as he opens the fridge. He joins you after heating it up. “Find a dress?”

“Mhmm, you’re gonna love it. What did you and your dad do?”

“I bet I will. I bet I’ll like takin’ it off even more,” he smiles, eyes raking over your body in your sports bra and shorts. “Shot darts and played pool. You know, guy stuff.”

“Seems like alcohol might’ve been involved?” You ask with a knowing smile as you begin to stretch.

He pinches his fingers together. “Maybe a little whiskey. God, this is good. You’re a good cook, Char. Hey, you know what I said earlier?”

He’s so dang cute when he’s like this.

You smile up at him from your place on the floor before you shake your head. “Remind me?”

“When I said I like it when you’re bossy. I meant that” he says with a blush, leaving to put his plate in the dishwasher to return a moment later. He leans on the doorframe as he continues. “Like…if you want to take the lead sometimes, I’d be up for that.”

You rise to your feet and saunter over. “Mmm, I’d definitely be up for that,” you hum, pulling him in for a kiss by his belt loop. “Take a shower with me and we’ll talk more?”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

“Not that I’m complaining,” you smile as you rinse your hair, “but what brought this on? Or is this something you’ve always wanted to try?”

“That little bit of bossiness this morning got me thinkin’ bout how sexy it’d be in the bedroom. Work’s been stressing me out and thought maybe it’d be nice if someone was giving me the orders,” he says with a blush.

“So you want me to tell you what to do? Maybe tie you to our bed and have my way with you?”

“Yes, all of that,” he sighs as you wrap your hand around his erection as the warm water runs between the two of you.

“What else?” you ask before leaning in and taking his nipple into your mouth, teasing it with your tongue and teeth. He groans, stumbling back a step until his back hits the wall. You nip at the bud when he doesn’t answer. “What else, Jake?”

“Anything you want,” he pants as you continue stroking him. “Use me to get yourself off, play with my ass some more…what’s it called when you get someone really close and then you back off? Edging? I think that’s what it’s called. I like it when you pull my hair. Just…anything. Anything you want.”

You smile as the tips of his ears turn red and a flush rises up his neck at his admission. “What were you and Tom drinking? Whiskey?”

“Yes ma’am, how’d you know?” He smiles before kissing you.

“All your secrets come out when you drink whiskey. I want to do all of that and more. What about if you don’t follow my rules? Do you want me to punish you?”

He flushes even further but nods, eyes drifting closed at the pleasure from your hand.

“You never have to be embarrassed or ashamed with me Jake. No one has to know what you and I get up to,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss up his throat as you increase the speed of your strokes.

His abs begin to tense and his breathing shortens, signaling he’s about to cum, you pull your hand away.

Your neglected pussy clenches at the whimper that leaves him.

“Wha-why’d you stop?” He pants a moment later, opening his eyes to look at you in confusion.

“I’m not ready for you to cum yet,” you reply with a cheeky grin, turning off the water behind you.

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

You bite your lip to keep from laughing as you dig out your box of toys from under the bed that Jake’s currently lying on, practically vibrating with need.

Finding the items you want, you crawl onto the bed, putting a dollop of lube in your hand before coating Jake’s still-hard cock while you lean forward to kiss him.

He gasps when you bite his lip at the same time you place the stroker on him.

“You can take over from here, but don’t cum,” you murmur against his lips before you lean back against the pillow you placed on the footboard.

“Whatcha got there?” He asks huskily from his mirrored position against the headboard.

“This is a rabbit vibrator. It was my favorite toy until we got together,” you reply, holding it up for him to see. “This part goes in my pussy,” you sigh as you push it in with a lewd squelch, “and this goes against my clit. Then I turn it on.” Your back arches off the pillow with a keen as you demonstrate.

“Holy fuck,” Jake gasps, gripping the base of his cock as he watches you pleasure yourself.

“I didn’t say you could stop,” you instruct breathlessly as find the vibration pattern you like best.

He grimaces and takes a shaky breath as he continues his stroking.

“I don’t know how many times I got myself off just like this thinking about you, watching porn imaging it was us, reading my books wishing we were doing all those dirty things together,” you sigh as you already feel the first tells that an orgasm is approaching.

“Oh God, that’s so hot,” Jake moans, eyes closing as he imagines it.

“Eyes on me, Jake. I want you to watch,” you sigh as your toes begin to curl.

“I-I can’t. I’ll cum, Char,” he grits out, refusing to open his eyes and look at you.

“No, don’t you dare cum yet,” you warn breathlessly. “Now open your eyes and watch me.”

He whines but forces his eyes open just as you hit your peak with a cry, so consumed by your pleasure that you don’t hear Jake’s reluctant groan.

You slump back against the pillows with a sigh as you pull the vibrator out, not at all satisfied yet.

“I tried Char, but I couldn’t stop it. You’re just too fucking gorgeous when you cum,” Jake sighs guiltily.

You open your heavy lids and a new rush of arousal goes straight between your legs at the sight of a wrecked-looking Jake; his damp hair sticking up where he ran his fingers through in desperation, an embarrassed flush staining his cheeks, and the stroker on his still-hard cock, full of his creamy spend.

“Jake, Jake, Jake. What am I going to do with you?” You repeat his words from when the roles were reversed a few weeks ago.

“You’re not gonna spank me, are you?” He remembers, repeating your words huskily, but with a quirk of his lips. He doesn’t think you will.

He jolts, gasping when you reach over to grip his oversensitive cock, giving him a few pulls.

“Turn over and find out.”

•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•.•*•

A/N: A little cliffy there! Sorry if you’re not into spanking or when the woman takes the lead. Apparently a bunch of you do like it though according to the survey I posted from a few days ago. 🤷🏻‍♀️😏

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs.

Tagging:

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@its-the-pilot

@dizzybee03

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@shanimallina87

@blindedbythelightt

@getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth

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#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction

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bullet-clubs-bitch · 5 months

Text

Eat The Acid II

Summary: It had been 14 months since the fight, the worst 14 months of her life and finally she thought now was the right time to share her side of the story but all she can think about is the return of CM Punk at survivor series not even 48 hrs ago. What happens when she reminds him of the fact he's going back to a promotion that fired him on their wedding day?

Word count: 2,538

Warnings include: Swearing, violence, toxic relationships, manipulation and those kinds of things

Part 1 Part 3 Main Masterlist CM Punk Masterlist

Inspired by "Eat The Acid" by Kesha

Survivor series

I knew I would keep quiet when all of the news of what happened at All Out went public. I knew I would say something stupid or let my emotions get the best of me. I can’t believe I stayed out of it for over a year, this was me breaking my silence. Phill and I had filed for divorce months ago, only now getting the paperwork started. I felt anxious as I sat in the chair, it reminded me of the one that got thrown during the fight. Renee Paquette invited me on her podcast to talk about my career and how things were going. She knew about the divorce before Phill got served so with my permission we would talk about the situation. Figuring it had been the right time to finally hear my side of the story. At this point everyone knew, in fact they couldn't stop talking about it. Dying to know my thoughts, feeling bad for me after what happened. We both knew what could happen, how this would backfire, but I told myself I would never speak bad about Phill, sure he was my ex-husband but I could never say the things he said about me, about him.

“So Y/n, I know you have some things you would like to get off your chest” Renee said “The floor is yours”

I felt my heart rate increase, I grew anxious. It wasn’t like this was a live recording, this was me and Renee in the comfort of her and Jon’s home. Sitting with two microphones, creating a recording we could do multiple takes of or even cut things out. I looked at Renee and she gave me a comforting smile, assuring me things would be ok.

“So, I’m sure by now you must have heard that CM Punk and I are getting a divorce” I knew we were getting divorced, but every time I said it outloud my mind couldn't comprehend that it was real. “This was a really hard decision but I really didn’t know what else to do Renee. I tried, I tried so hard…I..I just can’t do it anymore. It’s unfortunate because I really loved Phill and a part of me will always still love him. The whole situation ruined my family, I can’t even look at him the same after what happened. I really didn’t want to get a divorce but it was the best option.”

I looked to Renee who said nothing, offering a warm smile encouraging me to continue but I couldn't focus. All I could think about was the event that took place less than 48 hours ago.

I woke up feeling like I got hit by a bus then rolled over by a train. My body was sore, I wrestled Full Gear a few days prior and felt fine despite having one of the most grueling fights of my career. It wasn’t until I woke up Thursday morning after I wrestled on Dynamite the night before that I felt it. It was weird walking up in Chicago alone, I spent many years here with Phill, it just felt wrong without him. I knew survivor series would be happening in a few days, finding it funny how AEW and WWE were both in Chicago less than 3 days apart. I decided to stay the week in Chicago wanting to catch up with old friends I haven’t seen in years.

Half asleep and in pain I heard my phone ring. After struggling to find it, lost in the mess that was my hotel room I answered the call half asleep, not even bothering to see who it was before I picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Hi” the voice on the other line was soft, so quiet that I almost didn’t hear the response

“Who is this?” I responded, climbing back into the warm sheets

“It’s me” the voice said a bit louder this time

“Oh hi, Phill. What’s up?” I asked him, oddly calm, almost like nothing happened between us

“I need to talk to you, It’s important” He said quietly

I didn’t know what was going on but I knew it must have been important. “Is everything alright?” I asked

“Can you stop by sometime today, this is an in person type of conversation” I agreed to his offer, deciding to go to our once shared Chicago home to figure out what was going on.

***

I stood on the steps of our once shared home, debating whether or not to ring the doorbell. It felt weird, like this was a foreign space despite all of the memories I’ve had here. When I entered the home I noticed it looked the same as it did the last time I was here. The only thing different was my missing items. I sat down on the couch agreeing to a coffee as I watched a very anxious Phill Brooks make two coffees. “So, tell me what’s bothering you” I told him honestly as I grabbed the mug from his hands, placing it on a handmade coaster I made years ago. A smile on my face noticing he kept it. “I’m coming back” was all he said and I knew exactly what he meant.

I didn’t know what to say, my throat was dry, my brain unable to form a thought. “No one knows, only Hunter and I know. I thought you should know about it and in person” He said softly trying to read the non existing expression on my face. He didn’t say anything waiting for me to speak knowing how I can struggle with expressing my emotions.

“I don’t know what to say. How is this even possible?” I asked unable to comprehend how after everything he would return to a promotion that made him want to kill himself. “I remember when they fired you on our wedding day. Do you remember that, how that made you feel? How you swore to never wrestle again, never mind return to the enemy? You shit on WWE for years, not even six months ago you were talking about how horrible that place is and now you're coming back?”

“I can’t believe it either love, if Hunter and I can make up I have hope that we might be able to make things right. I promise I will explain everything but I don’t even know what’s going on. I know you don’t love me and that’s fine but I just thought you should know about it”

I could feel the tears fall from my face, I didn’t know why I was crying but I was. I felt betrayed, I felt like this was personal even though I knew it wasn’t. I had been by his side for the past 10 years. I remember when he told me he was miserable at work, I remember when he called me in the middle of the night when I was in Japan to tell me about the pipe bomb he dropped. I remember how they fired him moments after we said I do, I remember being by his side when he told me he wanted to start UFC, I remember being so proud of him despite his loss, I remember the tears we shared as I mended his wounds. I remember when he told me he wanted to start wrestling again, I was by his side through his whole stint in AEW. So hearing he was going back to a company that almost killed him, killed me, feeling like I had been living a lie.

All I wanted to do was cry, over what I’m not sure exactly. Maybe it was the return, maybe it was about the fight, maybe it was the fact that he didn’t fight for us. I felt like a small child, I just wanted to cry and have Phill hold me like how he used to but that was wrong. That was then and this is now, when I looked at the man who sat across from me I saw the old Phill. Something inside him had changed, his hair starting to grow out, the gray in his beard returning, the love in his eyes. This was the man I fell in love with.

I could tell that he wanted to hug me, he still knew me and he knew what I needed, he always did. He didn’t know what to do so I did it for him. “Can I have a hug?” I asked him softly ashamed of how vulnerable I was. “Of course love”

We stayed like that for a while, holding each other in a loving embrace, in a comfortable silence, neither one of us wanting to let go but knowing it was wrong. There was something so comforting about it, being back in the place I called home, with the man I onced loved, lying on an old couch that was falling apart but neither of us wanted to replace. It was like old times, I felt at peace, I was scared, terrified but this told me that things would be okay.

Phill was the first to break the silence “You have no idea how much I missed this” he said softly as he began to draw shapes on my back, something that never failed to calm me. If anything it made things worse, it was too much. Everything felt too normal. He must have noticed that I had gotten more upset as he let go. “I’m sorry, this is too much isn’t it?” he asked. I didn’t respond.

“What’s wrong Y/n?” He knew I was thinking about something. “What if I made a mistake?” I told him truthfully. To be quite honest up until this very moment I was still mad at him.

“This doesn’t feel real Phill. Up until half an hr ago I still hated you but us sitting here in a home we used to share, this old couch, fuck you even kept all of my artwork. This feels too normal. You know that things can never go back to the way they were, I’m sorry but I can’t forget that fight. Do you even realize the long lasting effects that has left on me and everyone involved. You know I don’t care about that Perry one, you know that I thought he deserved it but for god sakes Phillip I watched you beat the shit out of my own brothers. There is something about this that feels too good to be true. It feels wrong, I miss you, I miss you so much, but I also hate you so much that I fucken love you. You just had to fight The Elite, why not The Dark Order or JAS, why me? Why after 10 years of loving it is all being thrown away after a silly little fight you started?”

With every word I said I could see the guilt in his eyes, it was almost like he wanted to cry but didn’t want to show the vulnerability. “My love, I have tried everything to make things right, I know neither of us truly want this divorce but like you said it’s what's best. I’m sorry I didn’t fight hard enough for us, I thought it would have made things worse but by me doing nothing created damage I can never repair. If it means anything I will personally apologize to both Matt, Nick and Kenny, fuck I’ll even apologize to your dad. I know he always hated me”

“What about Adam?” I cut him off “This whole thing started over your hatred for him. You never once apologized to him. Did you see his match with Swerve? That’s what he has to do to get the fans back behind him after you destroyed that cowboys career for no reason”

“Y/n?......Y/n?.... You alright?” Renee called out, breaking me from my trance

“Oh yeah I’m fine. Just thinking” I responded

“We can wait, we don’t have to do this now. I know there’s alot going on” She told me reassuringly

“I’m just still trying to process everything that has happened Renee” I told her as I looked at the grandfather clock that sat across from me reading 7:40 pm. “Raw’s on soon, do you think I should watch it, see what he has to say?” I asked Renee as I began nervously twisting my hair.

“It’s up to you. I don’t want to be rude when I say this or anything but we both know he will probably talk shit about everyone during whatever it is that he has to say” Renee was right, Punk had a thing for shitting on his former employers and friends, I know this time would be no different. Knowing that The CM Punk would be on Raw tonight just felt weird, it was almost 10 years since he was fired. Even though I knew about his return it was way different hearing him say it then seeing it with my own two eyes.

Since I knew about the return, why was I in such shock once I heard his theme play. It was indeed real, the fans going crazy as the impossible was made possible. Chicago's son was home, home in the WWE almost 10 years later. My emotions were all over the place, on one hand I was excited, so proud of him like I always would be. The other part was scared, scared of the impact this would have on AEW, sure ratings were down but how could you compete with the return of Randy Orton and CM Punk in the same night. Part of me felt betrayed, after everything I did for him for what All Elite Wrestling did just to get stabbed in the back and join the other place. Another part of me wished I was there, hidden within the crowd, in some disguise being able to immerse myself within the crowd, getting to experience one of his returns in person once more. Looking into his eyes you could tell that this is what he needed, he was truly home. He was happy, still in shock himself that he was back in a company that not even six months ago still had him banned.

I thought about what Phill told me earlier, ‘If Hunter and I can make up I have hope that we might be able to make things right.’ After that talk I couldn't get him off my mind. I knew if he wanted he could just use that Chick Magnet charm and I would come running back but I needed to remind myself of the pain he caused me. How the past 14 months of my life had been an absolute hell. Everyday I look in the mirror and am shocked that I made it out alive, how somehow I was strong enough to tell that little voice in my head to shut up. I knew that chasing the feelings that were coming back was a suicide mission. I knew I shouldn't watch Raw but here I am getting home just in time to find my ex lover on the screen. I mean how bad could it be?

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wangxianficrecs · 2 months

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a thousand fragile and unprovable things by theLoyalRoyalGuard

a thousand fragile and unprovable things

by theLoyalRoyalGuard

G, 5k, Wangxian & Mo Xuanyu

Summary: It’s a sunny Thursday when Mo Xuanyu runs away from the latest crappy foster home. He’s fifteen and he’s done. Until the day he tries to pickpocket the man in the powder blue suit. Or Mo Xuanyu gets tired of foster homes and ends up with Wangxian instead. Kay's comments: Inspired by emergent properties by luckymarrow which I have recced and loved as well. Really loved this story of Mo Xuanyu stumbling into Wangxian's life and them searching for the best way forward for him and giving him all the love and support he needs and deserves. I wish they were my parents too. Bonus feature: adorable A-Yuan. Excerpt: Lan Wangji frowns at him, thoughtful, a tiny crease between his brows. “This isn’t technically proper,” he says, slow and deliberate, “but you could come with me.” Mo Xuanyu gives him a sidelong look, weighing possible dangers. The guy doesn’t seem like a predator, but then, they usually don’t. On the other hand… he doesn’t have a lot of better options . “I, uh, I have some friends I can crash with…” the lies stick in his mouth. It’s so obvious Lan Wangji isn’t buying a word. “The friends who got you arrested for robbery and aggravated assault?” He lifts one eyebrow just the tiniest bit, and Mo Xuanyu wilts. Lan Wangji checks his watch. “My husband should be awake by now,” he says, in that careful, deliberate way like every word is calculated to matter. He doesn’t waste them. “He's making baozi.” Mo Xuanyu’s stomach rumbles. He hasn’t had real baozi in… well, since he was a kid. Despite himself, the picture in Lan Wangji’s wallet rises in his mind, the smiling man and the toddler.

pov mo xuanyu, modern setting, modern no powers, lawyer lan wangji, trans mo xuanyu, married lan wangji/wei wuxian, adopted lan sizhui, foster care, implied/referenced child abuse, homelessness, angst with a happy ending, families of choice

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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justagalwhowrites · 4 months

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Holly Jolly - Ch. 3: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Joel and Sarah celebrate the holiday with you and Sharon. The final chapter of Holly Jolly, a modern no-outbreak TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: None really!

Length: 4.8k

AO3 | Main Master List | First Chapter | Previous Chapter

“You think this is the way to go?” Joel asked, looking at the drawing in his hand as he sat on a video call with you in the middle of a Home Depot.

“Yup,” you said, glancing back to the living room to see Sarah and Sharon deep in some adventure with Sharon’s Star Wars action figures. There were active blaster noises followed by a very dramatic sounding explosion. They were pretty occupied as you stood in the kitchen, leaning against your counter, waiting for the oven timer to ding. “I think if you go totally in this direction and just build something that’s perfect for the arbiesbay and how she plays with them, it’s even better than a reamday ousehay.”

Joel was quiet for a second.

“Did you just speak pig latin?”

“You try hiding things from the irlsgay without switching languages,” you replied.

Joel snorted.

“Alright, well, just tell me what you think of these paint colors,” he said. “You’re the one with the vision.”

Something smacked into the wall with a thud in the living room and you looked up from your phone. The shoebox the girls had been using for a space ship was across the room.

“Hey,” you said. “Let’s not throw things, OK? If we throw things that means we can’t play with them anymore.”

“But how is it supposed fly?” Sharon groaned.

“Pretend,” you said. “Not by hurling it.”

“Fine,” she huffed before getting up and getting the box, running it back across the room and bringing it in for a landing with a dramatic, explosive sound.

You laughed and sighed, looking at the mess of dolls and Legos scattered all over the floor after a few hours of the girls playing together.

“I need to get a toy box for the living room,” you said. “This is getting out of hand. Alright, let’s see the paints.”

Joel held up three samples of pink.

“Um…” you squinted at the screen. “Middle one, I think.”

“I was thinkin’ that too,” he said. “Looks closest to the box color for the arbiebay I already got her.”

“Was that pig latin?”

“Utshay upyay. What about this one?”

He held up a few purples as you giggled.

“First one,” you said. “That will play best with the first one we picked.”

“Right,” he said. “Alright, just need two more…”

He held up a few options for the white and then a few for a green.

“OK,” he said. “Think that’s everything… Thanks again for your help on this, I really don’t know what the uckfay I’m doing with this.”

You had to fight to not snort laugh at fuck in pig latin.

“Any time,” you said as the oven dinged. “And I need to go pull out gingerbread. See you soon?”

“Yup,” he said. “Just gotta check out here, pick up pizza and headed your way after.”

“Oundssay Oodgay.”

Joel laughed.

“Ebyay.”

You pulled the gingerbread out and set it aside to cool and just watched the girls playing from the living room.

Considering that you’d never met Joel and Sarah Miller before Thursday night, you were suddenly spending a lot of time with them. You and Joel had lunch together while Christmas shopping and you were surprised to learn that you got along better than you thought you would. Joel was oddly funny in a dry, clever way, every teasing moment and wry one liner feeling like an inside joke even though you’d only known each other a few days. You had the same concerns about raising girls as single parents, especially as young single parents who still felt a lot like kids yourselves. He was almost strangely insightful for a man, especially one who was damn near a perfect stranger. He seemed to understand the meaning behind your hesitant pauses or why you chose the words you did. Communicating with him was so straightforward and easy going, unlike anything you’d ever really experienced with someone so quickly before. You really liked Joel and Sharon adored his daughter. You really hoped you could help give them a great Christmas. They deserved it.

You’d drawn up a plan for the Dream House on Sunday night, going in a different direction than just trying to recreate what was on the shelf at the store.

Instead, you’d made a Barbie-fied version of Joel and Sarah’s house. You’d found their house on Google Maps - it felt a little too weird to look it up on Zillow - and took a guess at the layout based on what you’d seen on the inside and what the footprint of the house was from above.

Joel had stopped by your apartment Monday after work to pick up the plans and you stepped into the breezeway outside your door, leaving Sharon watching a cartoon in the living room.

“I hope it’s not too weird,” you bit your lip as you handed the blue prints over. “If it is, I can redo it tonight and I don’t think it’ll put you too far behind…”

He took the pages and frowned as he flipped through them. Your heart sank for a moment.

“Is this… our house?” He asked, looking up from the papers to look at you.

“Yeah,” you said. “I thought… since, you know, you just bought it and you bought it to give Sarah a better life, that kind of makes it a dream house, right? And I thought she might like to have her Barbies in a house that was like hers… I’m sorry, I over stepped, that’s not…”

“This is amazing,” he said, looking back down at the plans. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

You smiled, shoving your hands in the back pockets of your jeans.

“Yeah. I think so, anyway. I would have, when I was her age. I think she will, too.”

Even though you’d just seen him three days in a row, you were looking forward to spending the evening with him tonight, too. You had the supplies for making peanut butter cookies set out - as well as the peppermint bark shortbread you’d made every year since you were 20 and looking for something simple to make in your first apartment kitchen - and Joel was coming over to bake with you and the girls.

You had a little surprise for him, too. When he’d first dropped Sarah off that afternoon, you’d gotten the girls to help make some Christmas decorations he could bring home with him. Paper chains and cut out snowflakes and Christmas trees made out of plastic spoons. Once the girls got bored you let them loose on the toys and told Sharon to bring the adventure to the living room so you could keep an eye on them as you made gingerbread. They were having a blast and you now had enough gingerbread to build a small village of houses, plus a small box of homemade decor to give to Joel. You just hoped he liked it.

The girls were so involved with whatever they were playing - lightsabers were out now and Sharon was standing on the couch - that they barely noticed when he got there with an armload of pizza.

“OK definitely feelin’ like I got off pretty easy in this deal,” he said, setting the pizza down on your breakfast bar.

“It’s fine,” you waved him off. “My downstairs neighbors work in the afternoon and evening so they’re not bothering anyone. And they’ve stayed out of my way so it’s been no trouble, truly.”

“Daddy!” Sarah yelped, dropping the lightsaber and running for him, leaping into his arms like she hadn’t seen him in weeks, instead of just a few hours. “We made stuff and played Barbies and now we’re playing wars…”

“Star Wars,” Sharon corrected, jumping off the couch and stumbling forward as she landed. “It’s so cool, it’s this real old movie…”

“Alright,” Joel cut them off. “I’ll stop ya there, I remember when some of those came out, don’t need you saying they’re that old…” He set Sarah down and turned to you. “Didn’t take you for a Star Wars fan.”

You shrugged.

“Gotta introduce the kid to classic film.”

“Oh lord,” he rolled his eyes and laughed. “Think you’re the same age as me, better watch what you say about classic film…”

You got the girls to sit still long enough to plow through the better part of a cheese pizza and some carrot sticks while you and Joel split a supreme, sitting so close to each other that your knees brushed below the table.

The first time it happened, you jerked your leg away on instinct but Joel didn’t react. So you let your leg relax a little and, bit by bit, your knee drifted until it was against his thigh and your heart was in your throat.

After dinner, you pulled two chairs into the kitchen for the girls to stand on and you supervised as they combined the ingredients for peanut butter blossoms, their little faces getting covered in a dusting of flour and a smear of peanut butter ending up in the middle of Sharon’s shirt. They gleefully rolled the balls of dough in sugar and you handled putting the Hershey kisses in the middle of each one as the cookies neared the end of baking as Joel helped the girls secure the structure of their gingerbread houses.

“This much frosting seems dangerous,” Joel said after you’d joined them back at the table, cookies cooling on their racks on your packed counter.

“Oh, it is,” you said before you put your tongue between your teeth to concentrate on adding a small chimney to your house. “This is why we do it at the end, so you can get one sugar addled child and I get the other and I’m not wrangling both of them.”

He laughed a little, adding a Twizzler window frame.

“Daddy?” Sarah looked up from her sagging house. “It’s not staying up.”

“One sec Baby Girl…” He got up and went around to help her and you watched as he carefully adjusted the roof and added a little support beam. “See, that’ll help distribute the weight better, makes it more secure. Make sense?”

“I think so,” she said. “Can I add more M&Ms now?”

“Yeah, you can add more M&Ms,” he laughed a little before sitting back next to you. You let your knee drift to his thigh again.

He looked at you for a second, a soft look in his eyes, and you thought about taking your leg back but you didn’t.

“In case I haven’t said it,” he said. “Thank you for just… everything you’ve been doin’. Sarah’s been so happy this last week and I know you and Sharon got a lot to do with that. I’m real glad Sarah met her.”

You smiled a little.

“I am, too.”

Joel took a deep breath.

“And I’m real glad I met you, too.”

Your heart picked up.

“Yeah?”

You leaned in a little closer to him.

“Yeah.”

“Aunt Cocoa, look!” Sharon piped up from across the table and you turned away from Joel to look at her gingerbread house that was dripping frosting and sprinkles.

“That’s amazing!” You said. “You’re doing a great job girlie pop, definitely better than mine.”

When the houses were done, you and Sharon helped carry everything down to Joel’s truck, including the box of decorations. He frowned at it when you handed it to him to put in the cab.

“What’s this?”

“Just… open it when you get home,” you smiled. “Let me know what you think.”

He lifted Sarah into her carseat and buckled her in before closing the door and turning to you.

“So, I was thinkin’,” he said. “My brother was supposed to host Christmas dinner but now he’s going to some girlfriend’s place and it doesn’t sound like you’ll have anywhere to be… would you two want to come over? Don’t have to if it’s weird, I know we just met but…”

“I’d love that,” you cut him off, smiling. “Just let me know what I can bring? Or I can volunteer a dessert…”

“Dessert is great,” he said. “Just… mostly just want you there.”

You smiled bigger.

“Then I’ll be there.”

He smiled, making his cheek dimple.

“Good,” he said. “Can’t wait.”

***

Joel sent you one final picture of the dream house.

Think it’s done.

He half expected you not to respond. It was after midnight, officially Christmas Day. By all rights, you should be asleep.

You texted back anyway.

That’s perfect! Sarah will LOVE it.

Joel smiled at his phone like a damn idiot and scrolled through the messages the two of you had sent each other in the short time that he’d known you. There were the pictures he’d sent of his living room after he put up the decorations you and the girls had made him, pictures you’d sent of the gingerbread houses on your breakfast bar as you documented evidence of Sharon slowly sneaking pieces off of them, pictures he’d sent of the progress he made on the dream house.

He clicked on your contact photo and made it fill his screen, the selfie you’d sent him the first night he’d met you. He smiled a little. He couldn’t help it.

You were so pretty he wondered how he didn’t see it at first, even with the ridiculous sweater and the antlers. He must have been in a real shit mood to have not noticed because, over the last few days, he found himself pulling the picture up again and again just to look at you.

He did it when he had a break at work and was checking his phone for other messages. He did it when he was waiting for Sarah to finish breakfast as she dawdled before school. Most often, though, he did it just before he fell asleep when he felt oddly lonely and wished you were there.

It was a strange thought for him. He hadn’t really been with anyone since Sarah’s mom. There just hadn’t been time, he was too busy with work and his daughter, and he’d never longed for someone he’d never even kissed before. At least, not since he was a fucking teenager.

But he wanted to be next to you. He damn near melted the first time your knee had brushed his thigh, had to fight the urge to put his hand over that knee, trail his fingers along the inside of your thigh. And fuck, had he wanted to kiss you. You were so close and you smelled like vanilla and sugar and he knew - he just knew - that your lips would be soft and sweet.

He’d only seen you two days since then - plenty, considering you just met, but it felt like so little. Once, when the two of you had taken the girls Christmas shopping and traded kids so they could get something for each of you, and another time when you’d taken the girls to the playground together. The two of you had tried to sit on a bench and watch them play but the girls weren’t satisfied, pulling you and Joel up to play freeze tag.

Joel was looking forward to Christmas now. He’d actually been able to get Sarah what she wanted - or hoped she wanted, anyway - and he was getting to see you. He wasn’t entirely sure how but he’d gone from a man who was all but dreading the holiday to one who was almost as excited as his daughter for the day to come.

You sent him a picture of a Millennium Falcon set up for Sharon under the tree. Joel laughed a little and smiled.

She’s going to love it.

You followed it up with a picture of a sticker sheet.

She might like this more, who knows.

He wondered if it would be weird to ask you for a selfie. Probably. Still, he considered it. But he just texted, instead.

You did a great job. Really.

Why are you still up? You should go to bed, Joel. Santa can’t come if you’re still awake.

He tried to picture you saying it, the serious look you’d try to keep on your face as your lips curved up at the edges.

I will if you will.

Alright, you convinced me! See you tomorrow.

You sent a little heart after your last message and Joel tried to not read into it as he went to bed and pulled up your picture one more time, just to look at you, drifting off wondering how you’d feel curled up next to him.

Sarah tackled him at 6:17 a.m.

“Daddy!” She shook his whole body. “Daddy, wake up, I think Santa came! Daddy, get up!”

“Alright, Baby Girl,” he groaned, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “M’awake, gimme a minute, we’ll go see if Santa came…”

He shook his head a little as he sat up, his hair falling over his forehead, and he got a shirt from his dresser before pulling up the camera on his phone.

“Alright Kiddo,” he said. “You stay right here at the top of the stairs for just a minute so I can get you on video…”

He went into the living room and turned on the lights, the paper chains you’d made with the girls dangling cheerfully from the doorways.

“Alright,” he said, starting recording, suddenly nervous about Sarah seeing the homemade dream house. What if she hated it? This might be the first Christmas she really remembered, what if he ruined it? “Come on down, Baby Girl.”

Sarah thundered down the stairs and into the living room, her curls bouncing as she ran. Her eyes went wide and her mouth made a small “o” when she saw the house sitting next to the tree. She ran over to it and dropped to her knees beside it, a Barbie and a Ken standing in the kitchen, ready for her to play with.

“Daddy!” She gaped at him, a look of awe on her face. “Daddy, that’s our house! That’s our house but Barbie!”

“Is it?” He asked.

“Yeah!” She said. “See, that’s the kitchen and we’re in here in the living room…”

“Do you like it?” He asked, hoping he didn’t sound too hesitant.

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever seen!” She looked back to the house. “Barbie has a house like us!”

“Yeah,” Joel said, trying not to tear up. “Yeah, she does.”

It took Sarah a while to even want to move on to her stocking - loaded with candy - and the gifts under the tree. Joel had never been happier to see Sarah happy and it tugged at his heart knowing that he couldn’t have done it without you.

There were two things under the tree for Joel from Sarah, one that she let him have then and one that she insisted on waiting for you to be there for.

The first one was half of a butterfly best friend necklace and he frowned a little at it.

“Hold on!” She scampered off to her room for a moment before she came running back, flopping on Joel’s lap as he sat cross legged next to the tree. She held up the other side. “See? So when you go to work you can remember me!”

There was the burning pinch of tears in his eyes when he pulled her in to kiss her cheek.

“I always remember you, Baby Girl,” he said, voice wet. “But I love it so so much, thank you.”

He put it on, the chain much shorter around his thick neck than it was around her little one. She giggled and put her half of the butterfly against his before going back to playing with the Barbies.

Joel had to pull himself away from watching her play to get dressed and make breakfast before making her get dressed, too, and then handling all the holiday things that needed doing before you arrived.

He was putting the ham in the oven when the doorbell rang and Sarah shrieked before running for the door, Joel only catching a glimpse of a red dress as he ducked back below the paper chain between the kitchen and the living room.

“I saved it just for you,” Sarah said conspiratorially as he made it to the door. You smiled at Joel over his head. “I wanted you to see, too!”

“That was very sweet,” you smiled at her. “Have you had a good Christmas?”

“The best,” she said. “Santa made a dream house just for me!”

“He did?” Sharon’s mouth dropped open. “That’s so cool! I brought a Barbie, can she come over and see it?”

“Yeah!” Sarah took her hand and the two girls tore into the living room, almost running into Joel on their way past.

“Hey,” you smiled, your eyes bright and beautiful, in a green sweater that was so far from the one he’d first seen you in. This one was a dress that clung to your frame, hugging all the parts of you he’d thought about far too much. You moved to hug him, a little awkwardly with a pie plate in your hands, but he didn’t care. He was just happy for the excuse to touch you, hoped you wouldn’t hear his heart pounding in his green flannel shirt.

“Hey,” he smiled as he gave you a squeeze.

“Told you she’d love it,” you whispered before you pulled back, giving him a wink.

The two of you went to the living room and watched the girls play, your legging clad legs brushing against him and he wondered if you even noticed, if it was all just an accident or if you were as aware of every time you touched like he was.

“Oh, Dad, I have one more for you!” Sarah went and got the other small box from under the tree. “Miss Cocoa helped me pick it. And helped me buy it because it was more money than you gave me.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” he frowned at you.

You just waved him off.

“I had coupons,” you said. “And Kohl’s Cash. And then it was only like $15 more dollars. Nothing crazy.”

He unwrapped the box and opened it. Inside was a watch with a black face, green band and a metal case, one that would actually hold up to his job.

“I wanted to get you the pink one,” Sarah said. “But she said she didn’t think it would fit you.”

“Yeah, your dad is a big guy,” Joel could hear you smiling. “That pink watch looked a little small. I think this one will work better.”

“Try it on!” Sarah said, bouncing a little beside him. “I wanna see!”

“Alright,” he said, taking off his old watch that had seen far better days and sliding on the new one. He turned his wrist in the light, admiring it. “It’s perfect, Baby Girl.”

“You like it?” Sarah asked, her eyes wide.

“I love it,” he said, pulling her in to kiss her on the cheek. “Thank you so much.”

She clapped before going back to playing with Sharon.

You were looking at his wrist, a small smile on your face.

“Really shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “It really is perfect, but…”

You smiled bigger.

“She was just so excited about it,” you said. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Well,” Joel said. “I do have somethin’ for you, too.”

“Yeah?” You asked brows raised.

He stood up from the couch, holding his hand out for yours. You took it and he tugged you to your feet.

“You two behave yourselves for just a minute,” Joel said. “We’ll be right back.”

They didn’t even seem to notice, too busy moving the barbies through the house.

“C’mon,” he said, still holding your hand and guiding you toward the garage. “Now if you don’t like it, I can redo it…”

He led you to his garage workshop and turned on the lights, your gift sitting under a sheet on his workbench.

“Couldn’t really wrap it,” he nodded to it. “But it’s under there.”

“I can just…” You raised your eyebrows at him and he laughed a little.

“Yeah, go for it.”

You made an excited little sound before pulling back the sheet. You gasped at it and Joel smiled as you went to run your hands over the sides.

“This is gorgeous!” You said, looking from it to him. “What is it?”

“Well,” he said, coming and standing so close to you that he could feel you breathing. You smelled like sugar and cinnamon and clove. “When we were on the phone while I was at Home Depot the other day, you mentioned needing a toy box for your living room. Seemed like you care about things like your furniture and things so I wanted to make you one that looked like it’d be your style. It opens at the top…” He demonstrated, lifting the lid. “Put some bumpers on the lid, too, so if Sharon throws it around it won’t hurt anything… top can be a bench if you wanted, too, you got all those nice pillows on your couch and stuff… Anyway, like I said, I can change it if you don’t…”

You turned and threw your arms around his neck, pressing your warm, soft body against him. He hesitated for a moment before he hugged you back, his fingertips gripping you tight.

“I love it,” your voice was muffled by his shirt before you pulled back from him just enough to look at his face. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me, where did you find the time?”

“I ain’t slept much this week,” he laughed a little. “But that’s OK. It’s… it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and warm and soft and all he wanted to do was kiss you. Joel thought it might be the only thing he ever wanted to do.

“Joel,” you breathed, pressing yourself a little closer to him.

“Is it OK if I kiss you now?” He asked softly, one of his hands slipping from your waist to gently hold your face. “Because damn, do I want to kiss you.”

You nodded eagerly and he tightened his hold on you, tilting your head just so to press his lips to yours.

You felt just like he thought you would but somehow so much better, your mouth so soft and warm against him, the taste of mint on your tongue. Your lips fit on his own the way that no one else’s ever had, he’d never kissed anyone and felt this desperate to keep kissing them, keep doing just about anything with them.

Eventually, you pulled back from him, breathless, and trailed your fingers through his hair. He smiled a little at you, panting a bit himself.

“Think we can get a babysitter and go out sometime?” He asked. “Just the two of us?”

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. “Yeah, I think we can.”

The two of you went back in the house, holding hands as you sat watching the girls play, giggling and chattering back and forth like they’d known each other for years. But Joel understood that now. He’d never seen Sarah latch on to anyone so fast but then, he’d never had feelings like this for someone so fast, either.

At dinner, he sat next to you, all four of you laughing, Christmas music on the background. When your knee came to rest against his leg, his hand slipped below the table and cupped your knee, his thumb stroking your thigh. You looked at him and smiled a little before your hand drifted below the table, too, giving his leg a squeeze.

When the girls wore themselves out, he left Sarah asleep on the couch, The Grinch on in the background, before he loaded the toy box into your trunk and then carried Sharon out, lowering her gently into her carseat. You buckled her in as she sleepily clutched her Barbie in one chubby hand and her Princess Leia action figure in the other.

“Thanks for comin’,” Joel said, stepping close to you. “And for everything you did for me and for Sarah the last few weeks.”

You smiled, leaning back against your car and tugging Joel against you, he smiled and laughed a little.

“I was happy to,” you said, eyes shining in the moonlight. “So what do you think? Good Christmas?”

He searched your eyes for a moment and slowly leaned in to kiss you again. Your smile broadened and you met him halfway, your fingers knotting in his shirt as you held him against you.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling just far enough away from you that he could look in your eyes again. “Best Christmas ever.”

A/N: Thanks for reading this little holiday fic! I hope you enjoyed it, even though it went up a few days later than I'd really hoped.

Wishing you a beautiful holiday season with lots of love and laughter. Thank you for being here and spending some of it with me ❤️

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #holly jolly

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sgiandubh · 3 months

Note

He's been in Los Angeles since Tuesday. Work friend saw him in Malubu Tuesday night. She said he was with a couple people no mention of Caitriona.

Dear Tuesday Anon,

I am sorry to pop your balloon here, but I'd be reserved on this. It could fit, but barely.

You all know I am terrible with timelines, but here is my take on things:

Sunday 28th, red carpet in Ostende, Belgium. Afterparty, etc. Perhaps not the best idea to pop in a car all'alba/at daybreak for an almost 5 hour ride to Paris.

Monday 29th, not much. We can speculate, but I would need an Advil. Most probably on this way to Paris. I doubt the Eurostar (the train formerly known as Thalys) was worth a Brussels detour and, while they used to have an Ostende-Paris direct link, it was dropped off around 2015. Why take a 90 minutes' detour (119 km!) to get to the Bruxelles Midi Train Station and hop on the Paris direct Eurostar link for the 90 minute ride, when you could only add (roughly) an hour by car and leave directly from Ostende?

I am immediately having visions of the horrendously impractical hullaballoo at Bruxelles Midi and to me, it's a firm no. @margareth-lv 's guess of a direct car trip is the most logical one and I am sticking with it. Paris pic was posted on Wednesday morning and he was staying at the Hôtel Lutétia, as I heavily hinted in my post (it used to be the Nazi Abwehr/Military Intelligence HQ during World War II). Probably one of the corner suites (angle of rue de Sèvres and Boulevard Raspail), hotel has a very good seafood restaurant, too.

Everything fits: the outside view, the reel/story angle. On my screenshot, x marks the spot on the map and the arrow, the outside view of the corner suites. I should know, it was my playground, many moons ago:

It is possible the reel was taken Monday evening upon arrival, but for being intimately familiar with Parisian nights, my best bet is on Tuesday morning, very early (jogging? leaving?). Just an intuition, and I could be wrong and I am ready to correct and edit, as we go.

We then assume a direct CDG-LAX flight. Since it's not possible to check past flight schedules, we work with a random February Tuesday. First and Business class yield different results (Shipper Mum, a former airline executive, helped me with those over the phone: hi, mum!).

Traveling First Class (very possible, damn expensive, but money is no object and Frequent Flyer mileage - always redeemable):

Traveling Business Class (reasonably possible and two more options):

Factoring in arrival/border/luggage procedures and city/airport, then airport/city transfers, it's not impossible, but to any normal human being who was Batman only on stage (even very fit)... a bit of a stretch.

This is my take on your info. Please don't take it personally (or at least try). I simply think he might have arrived in LA yesterday, Thursday, when the Los Feliz pic was taken, with his luggage in tow.

But you know what, Tuesday Anon? One thing I am sure of, is that this is exactly what he wants us to do, right now. Cue in the Yellow Ski Outfitgate, for fun. Schuss on top - that was a blatant von Trapp latergram and my mind immediately pictured a sidesmile.

At any rate, don't be a stranger. I answered you with all the care and caution in the world. And thank you, whoever you are. It was a fun phone call to Bucharest and Mom, who is laughing like a drain and told me I was probably bonkers.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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holdinbacksecrets · 5 months

Text

seventeen: chapter 1 to page 218

♡it’s a tuesday when you receive the keys to your new apartment. the city feels like a brand new book: edges crisp and vibrant, title alluring. the first chapter’s name keeps a spotlight in your mind, and he’s sitting in the lobby. he sees you with your suitcases. there’s three; they’re periwinkle. your mother sent them- the last package to arrive before your move. he’s on the phone, but he smiles at you, softly, like he knows the scent of waterfront landscape hasn’t yet embedded you, but it’s going to (jeonghan, jun, mingyu)

♡the life behind his door floods through the wood, through the light escaping from the crack just above the floor. you wonder how that happens. how a life is so radiant. you wonder for weeks. the thought keeps you busy on every elevator ride until your paths meet, and one focused gaze unravels understanding. a pool of brown, so inviting. a ring of golden hugs each pupil. you take a step forward as if a dive into them would hasten the journey to his heart, like it’s a possible option, entirely within reason. patience. be patient (hansol)

♡he’s moonlight, somehow. nothing else feels right. no other description melts into his name, into his aura quite the same. but he hates the darkness nighttime brings. he hates any moment clouds cover the glowing, guiding satellite. he hates the sky for reminding him of you. it never used to, not before his next door neighbor became his best friend, became his lover, became a craved, crescent disaster (minghao, seungkwan)

♡you gave pieces of yourself away every time he came inside. a leaky faucet. a squeaky door. he wondered if you even tried to fix the broken things. he wondered if they’re even bothersome, or if you’re lonely, seeking another in the space that can’t quite reach Home. there are too many corners it’s yet to seep into, but he’s a distraction. he hides the hollow spaces, sprinkles warmth before he goes. it lasts. you think of him, he lingers longer, and then you’re asking him back for more. he alters the pitch. his tone creates a welcomed depth. so yes, he helps: you’re baking again; you’re barefoot, drinking tea on the balcony each morning; you’re seeping into the corners, and it feels like home (seungcheol, joshua, chan)

♡there’s a spiderweb on your ceiling. you only know because you’re laying on the floor. you watched the fan spin spinning, ready for takeoff, and then your eyes shifted. the spiderweb is missing its dweller. you wonder where it’s gone. if it’s hiding, collecting supplies, letting tiny, spider-curiosity guide a spontaneous journey. you smile: you have a roommate. the smile sticks through your travels to the mailroom where you ask the man who’s always there on thursday evenings after dinner if he wants to see something. he lays beside you. he wonders aloud if this something is the ceiling fan. you giggle. his heart melts. you point to the spiderweb. “i have a roommate until you agree to live with me.” “can it keep my side of the bed warm?” “sleeping quarters don’t include my bedroom. did you hear that, little guy? we’re not as close as he and i.” “thank god. i was starting to worry.” “ mmm, predictable.” “…can i keep your bed warm tonight?” “the night of a snowstorm? absolutely.” (soonyoung, wonwoo, jihoon, seokmin)

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ereardon · 5 months

Text

The Backup || Chapter 1 [Jake Seresin x Reader]

Summary: No strings attached sex never works, right? You and Jake Seresin have fallen into a bad pattern of seeking each other out for sex after dates go awry, but a year of being friends with benefits with Jake hasn’t been good for your dating life. Especially when the two of you are hiding your antics from your lifelong best friend Coyote and the rest of your tightly knit friend group. But what happens when you decide to take a step back and end the cycle with Jake to focus on your dating life? And why is it that all of the sudden Jake looks more irresistible than ever when you know he’s off limits?

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader

Warnings: Implied smut, cursing

WC: 3.2K

Masterlist here

[Please see note at the end, tag list is closed but please follow/turn on notifications for my library page @ereardonlibrary instead]

“That can’t happen again.”

“It will.”

You sighed loudly, flinging yourself backward onto the mound of pillows, knowing that he was right. Jake rolled off the bed, tugging on his boxers.

He grinned. “Any more bad dates planned for this week?”

“A blind date on Friday,” you replied, rolling onto your side to face him as Jake got dressed. “Someone that a secretary from my work knows.”

“A blind date, really?”

Ignoring his comment, you replied, “What about you?”

“No plans.”

“Which means that you’ll have a date lined up by Thursday.”

“And it’ll be a flop and we’ll be right back here on Friday night.”

“So end it,” he said. “You’re the one that called me tonight, remember?”

“I’m weak,” you replied and Jake chuckled.

“You’re a lot of things, sweetheart, but weak isn’t one of them. Except when it comes to those mall pretzels.”

“Well those are objectively the best.”

“True.”

You watched as Jake finished getting dressed, tying his shoelaces, slipping on his jacket. “Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“Are we fucking each other up by doing this? Like are we the reason that every single date goes bad? Because I feel like lately they all end up sucking.”

“I loved that apartment and it was dirt cheap,” Jake argued. “Besides, you’re not much better. Remember when you thought guys actually liked girls who wore Birkenstocks?”

“They’re comfortable!”

“You’re just saying that because your type is girls who stomp around in size five Aquazzura heels on Market Street and have their daddy’s Amex card numbers memorized.”

“Better than your type. Mr. Couch potato, looks practically homeless and asks you to split the check at dinner because he’s too cheap to pay for your baked potato.”

“That happened twice, that’s not a pattern.”

“More than once is concerning.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re lucky you’re good in bed because I can’t fucking stand you.”

“Stop stroking my ego.”

“Goodnight, Seresin,” you said, walking toward the kitchen, your back to him. “Slam the door on your face on your way out, won’t you?”

“Night Stinky,” he said and you could hear his footsteps trailing down the hallway. “See you next weekend!”

And, of course, you made a point to keep it from the friend group. Coyote would throw an absolute fit if he found out. He had made a point the first time he introduced you to his friend group, which had later adopted you as one of their own, to steer clear of Jake.

“Before we go in, there’s one rule.”

You frowned, looking up at him. His face, normally so relaxed and chill, was creased in concern. The two of you had known each other for more than half of your lives, growing up in houses across the street from each other. At night, sometimes you would flick the lamp on your desk off and on as a kid to get his attention. He would do the same, powering up the old Walkie Talkies your mom had given the two of you one summer so you could whisper to each other in the darkness, your own secret club. This was all before cell phones were stapled to every kid’s ear, even before AIM or Facebook. Javy had been your friend for what felt like every minute of your life.

“Don’t fall for Jake’s bullshit, OK?” Coyote said. “He’s suave and shit, but he’s going to hurt you if you let him.”

“I’ll be fine.”

He shook his head. “I mean it, Y/N. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Coyote had seen you at every low point in your life. When your prom date stood you up and he stepped in. When you almost failed out of sophomore year because your math professor had a chip against you. When your dad died after freshman year of college and the two of you stood side by side in your backyard in the rain, not speaking, but you knew he was there and that was enough.

Coyote had been there for all of it. You knew, deep down, that he had your best interests in mind.

But then you had walked into the bar on 22nd Street and Jake’s golden head had been thrown back in a laugh and you felt your heartbeat speed up in your chest. The way he looked at you that first night — it was like you were a prize and he was operating the claw machine with an endless supply of quarters. You flirted with him, to Javy’s disdain, but at the end of the night when he slipped his hand onto your bare knee you pulled away with a grin.

You weren’t going to make it easy for him.

At first that’s all it was. A chase, flirtation. Coyote’s eyes darting angrily between you and Jake as the two of you argued over the pool table or in a game of darts. The time all six of you — Jake, Coyote, Phoenix, Bob and Bradley — rented bikes in Golden Gate Park and the last mile was just you and Jake, ahead of everyone else, racing as fast as you could until your lungs threatened to give out and the greenery of the park opened up onto Ocean Beach.

The two of you had ditched your bikes, plopping down into the sand, gasping for breath, the waves slapping softly along the shore.

“You win,” Jake said.

“I know, I got here a solid ten seconds before you.”

He looked over with a grin. “No, I mean you win, Y/N. I’m not going to try and sleep with you. We can be friends, or whatever the hell it is that girls want.”

You shook your head, laughing. “All it took was getting beat in a physical competition and you’re giving up? Jake Seresin, I’m appalled.”

He laid back against the sand and you did the same, heads only a foot or so apart.

“What girls want,” you added, “is to be pursued not chased. Is to feel wanted but not smothered. Sexy but still intelligent.”

“That’s too much to ask for.”

“You asked what we want, not what’s attainable.”

“Is that what you want, Y/N?”

In that moment, you wanted him. You wanted to feel his hard, sweaty muscles pressed against your body. Feel his silky golden hair beneath your fingertips. His rough voice in your ear.

You rolled over on top of Jake, surprise lacing his face, your hands digging into the sand on either side of his head. Your hips grazed over his, just a hint, and Jake reached up one hand, brushing the hair out of your face where it had fallen from your ponytail.

“I’m not going to tell you what I want,” you whispered, smirking. “More fun this way.”

“Oh you’re evil,” Jake grinned, rolling the two of you over until you were pressed against the sand, his much larger body pinning you down, this time his hips grinding you down against the soft beach. You could feel him everywhere and it took everything in your body not to moan out into the open air for all the families and tourists to hear. The rush knowing that any minute the rest of the group could catch up and find the two of you only made your heart beat faster in your chest. “I’m up for the challenge.”

“You better be.”

The two of you laid there, Jake’s arms boxing you in, his chest lifting against yours. If you reached up a few inches you would be able to slide your lips against his.

But instead, you shoved him off and he landed in the sand as you laughed. You saw it in his eyes at that moment.

You had Jake Seresin’s interest. For now.

***

“Hey, you’re early for once.” Coyote leaned in, kissing your cheek gently.

You grinned. “Snagged a front row parking spot.”

“Grab a table, I’ll get us some coffees.”

“Flat white?”

He nodded, heading off toward the counter. You picked a spot in the corner, a big round table. The door swung open and Bob and Bradley walked in. You waved, Bradley sliding into the booth with a grin. “Hey Stink,” he said and you rolled your eyes. The nickname had stuck, despite your best effort to shake it over the last few years.

“Bradshaw. What did y’all get up to last night?”

“The usual,” he said as Bob sat down with two black coffees and slid one to Bradley. “Started out at the bars in Richmond.”

“And ended up in some twentysomething’s bed in the Marina,” Bob finished.

You shot him a smile which he returned with a shy grin. “Just you two idiots out on the town.”

“Phoenix was there, and Jake.”

His ears must have been burning, because the moment his name was said, Jake sauntered through the door, looking far too fresh for nine in the morning after a night of drinking and debauchery.

You should know. The two of you had, predictably, landed in bed together after your blind date. Just like Jake said you would. Just like you had hoped you wouldn’t. He spotted the three of you in the corner and smirked, lifting a pair of sunglasses onto the top of his head and heading toward the counter.

Coyote slid into the spot next to you. “Flat white. And I got you a croissant. You look hungover.”

“You’re a dick.”

“Just smile and look pretty,” he replied and you grunted, ripping off a piece of croissant and stuffing it into your mouth. “Where’s Nat?”

“Running late,” Bob said, checking his phone.

Jake took a seat across the table from you, a cup of hot coffee in one hand, a donut in the other. He took a bite, powdered sugar coating his upper lip in a faux mustache. “So everyone here got some last night?”

You rolled your eyes, arms crossed over your chest. Bob’s face glowed pink. Coyote dragged a wet tea bag out of his cup. “Could you be cruder?”

“Yes.” It rolled off of his tongue effortlessly.

You scowled and took a sip of coffee. Phoenix crashed through the cafe doors, flinging herself into the remaining chair and swiping the last of your croissant, shoving it in her mouth. “Hey.”

“Morning Princess,” Bradley said. “Long night? We lost you after the second bar.”

She shrugged and leaned over, taking a sip of his coffee. “Ew, no cream, really Bradshaw? Anyways, I ran into Nina.”

The group groaned. Nina was Phoenix’s ex-girlfriend and it was communally agreed that she should stay an ex. If Natasha’s belongings on a curb and her box of coats on literal fire weren’t proof enough, Nina had also stolen from her once and racked up a monumental credit card bill that Phoenix later managed with the bank.

“She’s changed!”

“Nobody changes,” you replied.

“Well how was your night, Stink?” she asked. “That blind date work out?”

“He smelled like Fritos and told me his goal in life was to quit insurance sales and start a Lord of the Rings themed coffee bar.”

“That’s lowkey kind of cool,” Bob replied.

“Let’s just say it didn’t work out.”

“So you went home alone?”

Across the table, Jake smirked. You hid your face in your coffee mug. “Yeah. Alone.”

***

“So you work at a bank. That’s cool.”

You sighed, taking a sip of wine. “I’m actually a hedge fund analyst.”

Bill, your date for the night, frowned. “Bob told me you worked at a bank. I thought you were a teller or something. So you work.”

You were going to kill Floyd. Bill was tall, you’d give him that. But this was the third hint he’d dropped that screamed of misogyny. The first was when you ordered a steak and a glass of red and he asked why you weren’t getting a salad. The second was when you ordered a second glass of wine and he frowned, saying wasn’t it bad for your fertility to be drinking so much? “Yes, I work,” you replied. “And do you work?”

He puffed out his chest. “Of course. I’m a real estate agent.”

“And does that pay well?”

He went ashen and then a bright fiery red. You tried to hide your grin behind your wine glass.

“I’m going to use the restroom.” You slid out from your chair, grabbing your purse and heading toward the front of the restaurant. When Bill looked away, you darted right, out the front doors, practically jogging around the corner. “I’m going to murder Floyd,” you said into the phone.

Jake’s laugh on the other end was warm. “Again? I thought you were still mad at him for that sous chef-turned yoga instructor who tried to crack your back in the middle of the restaurant.”

“Just come pick me up?” you begged, looking around. “I’m at some place in the Mission, I’ll send you my location. And hurry, before my date comes out here and tries to get me to put on a costume from Little House on the Prairie.”

Five minutes later, you were stretching out in the passenger seat of Jake’s car. He had one hand on the wheel, the other on your thigh, cruising down Van Ness toward the Marina. You resisted the urge to study him: his golden hair illuminated by the headlights of oncoming traffic, the way he smelled like pine and fresh laundry and the smirk that you knew was practically tattooed on his lips.

Those lips that, try as you might, you couldn’t stop aching for.

It always ended the same. You and Jake in a pile of tangled limbs in crisp white sheets, sweat pricking at your skin, hair a mess, a soreness already starting to form between your legs. And you’d do it again and again, even if it was wrong. Even if hiding things from Coyote and the rest of the group was becoming next to impossible. Because ending the night with Jake was a hell of a lot better than being alone in your apartment.

“Stay,” Jake said as you pulled on your jeans, buttoning the top button and turning around in your lacy bra, searching for your shirt that had somehow been flung onto the coffee table.

You yanked it over your head. “What? No, that’s rule number three.” The two of you had started a list of informal rules for your friends with benefits situation. Rule number one: no getting attached. Rule number two: keep it a secret. Rule number three: no sleepovers.

“Rules are made to be broken, babe.”

“Don’t babe me, Seresin,” you grunted, slipping on one stiletto and then the other, examining your hair in the mirror above the dresser.

“For once, what if you just pretended to like me for more than five seconds when we’re not horizontal.”

“It’s not an act, Jake,” you replied, whipping around to look at him. He was sitting up in bed, sheet covering his lower half, top half ridiculously muscular and drenched in a thin layer of sweat that only made him glisten in the dull light from the lamp. “You and I? We’re two totally different people. We have good sex and we have the same friends but the similarities stop there. I want someone to actually be in a relationship with. Not just a booty call.”

“Feeling pretty used over here.”

“You use me and I use you,” you replied, “that’s how this works. Two-way street.”

“For a girl who claims to want more than this, you seem to be jumping into my bed a lot.”

“Fuck you,” you said, but it was lighthearted.

“I mean it, Y/N,” Jake replied and there was something serious in his tone. “You say you want a real relationship but you don’t even give guys a chance. You find something wrong with them, every single time.”

“You literally said not two weeks ago that everyone in this city is insane and that’s why none of our dates ever work out.”

Jake stood up, slipping on a pair of boxers. “That’s true, too. But you’re part of the problem, Stinky. And I think you know it.”

“I’m leaving,” you said, stomping down the hallway toward the front door.

“You'll be back here in a few days,” Jake called out.

You slammed the door behind you. There was nothing but silence on the other side of the door. Jake wasn’t the type of guy to rush after you, say he was wrong.

And why would he? Because the truth was, he was right. And you both knew it.

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