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inkbybambi · 7 months

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bodyguard!simon riley who takes a bullet for you —

words: 2.9k rating: e warnings: nightmares, guns/shooting, gunshot wound, hospitals, smut, creampie, cunnilingus, mentions of threats against reader, threat against reader, lowercase writing — please let me know if i missed any! notes: 18+ content, minors dni. warnings have been provided.

he's been assigned to you for two-ish years now. you weren't thrilled at first, and neither was he — but he didn't make it as obvious as you did.

"i don't need a babysitter," you had damn-near hissed when he was introduced.

"i wasn't hired to be one," he counters coolly, which only serves to irritate you further.

actively ignoring his presence — as much as you could when your company moved him into your apartment — even though you begrudgingly made room in the counters and fridge for his things, even going as far as investing into a better kettle so he could make his tea and clearing out an entire cabinet for all his tea, sugar, and steeper.

he trails you quietly as he was hired to; keeping close enough to always have you in his sights but far enough away that people wouldn't be able to clock his association to you — or so he thought.

six months into his contract with you — an unknown amount of time left, as price never answered and soon he stopped asking — he wakes in the middle of the night from a scream he never thought would come from you.

he rushes into your bedroom, gun in hand with his finger resting on the side and not the trigger. the front door is locked as he had left it, windows unbroken. he almost thinks he might've associated it with one of his own nightmares, until he sees you.

curled in on yourself, face tucked into your knees, fingers threaded through your hair as you struggle to breathe properly, hiccups and sobs breaking between your stuttered breaths.

he knocks gently on your door, not wanting to startle you. you jump just a little, regardless, but lift your head to look at him.

"'m sorry," you mumble, voice rough, "i didn't mean to wake you."

and you hadn't. you thought you were done with these awful nightmares, the ones gnawing at the edges of your mind during the day.

"'s'alright," he replies, tucking the gun into the waistband of his sleep shorts, walking carefully towards your bed. "you okay?"

the look he receives damn near breaks his heart.

he learns, that night, that an attempt had been made on your life before. more than once.

they never got close enough to do any harm, you say, but then swallow thickly and clutch your bicep where simon sees a scar that he never took notice of previously. they didn't get close enough to do anything worse, you amend, chancing a look at him.

"i had security then, too," you explain, wiping your tears with your hand, playing with the blanket. "it didn't change anything."

something shifts after that.

he starts cooking for you — with you, when there's time — and you bring him a cup of tea each morning. the bookshelf in the living room, previously only half-filled, collects simon's books. you give him the login to all your streaming services, and ignore the pointed look he gives you when he sees some trashy reality tv show in your "continue to watch" queue.

he doesn't complain much when he stands behind you during an episode, arms crossed, asking a question here and there. you sigh, exasperated at having to explain everything, telling him to sit down and you start the series from the beginning.

nine months into his contract, your nightmares become more frequent, and worse. you don't understand why. you were getting better, you cry in simon's arms after a particularly rough night.

"sometimes these things happen," he tells you softly, gently carding his fingers through your hair, tucking you under his chin.

"make them stop, please," you beg, even though you know he can't. he wishes he could.

he starts sleeping in your bed.

he's so warm, your cheek pressed into his chest, feeling more secure than you have in months when the weight of his thick, tattooed arm slings around your waist. he presses a kiss to your forehead at night, and you burrow into his side.

he starts taking the balaclava off at night.

a morning where you blessedly don't have to be up early, grey clouds hang in the sky, the promise of a storm later.

"g'mornin'," he says, voice rough with sleep, feeling him flex and stretch beneath you, groaning as his body relaxes. a flash of heat snaps through you.

"morning," you reply, only half-awake, tilting your head up to drag your lips across his jaw, prickling with stubble.

his fingers are in your hair, thick and comforting, tilting you back until his mouth slants over yours. he cradles the back of your head as his tongue slips into your mouth, hot and heavy.

the sheets rustle as he moves to lay over you, free arm resting by your head as your legs hook on his hips, trying to draw him closer to you.

he nips at your bottom lip as he rolls his hips, the heat of his cock through his boxers frazzling your brain. you mewl, his tongue back in your mouth, moving his hand to grip your waist and drag you up against him, moaning low in his throat when he feels the wetness seeping through your panties.

"fuck," you breathe out as his mouth moves over your cheek, down your jaw, kissing the sensitive skin behind your ear.

"say please," he rumbles.

"simon, please," you whine, fingers curling at the base of his skull and scratching, and he snarls against your skin, sinking his teeth into the side of your neck as he tears your panties off, pushing his boxers down enough to free his cock.

you're so wet for him, slick coating your thighs as he drags his cock through your folds.

he usually takes his time — using his fingers and tongue to open them up first, wanting to feel the wet heat of their cunt and the spurt of their release to know they're relaxed and ready for him. he eats pussy like he'll die if he doesn't, will happily spend hours between your legs if you let him.

but you? he feels feral with need.

"it's big, sweet thing," he rasps into your skin, right above the mark he sucked into your skin, notching the head of his cock at your entrance. he's not trying to brag, it's just a fact.

you claw at him, the sting of open scratches burning his skin so pleasantly.

"it's okay, don't care," you pant, gripping him hard enough to leave deep crescent marks in his skin, angling your hips up to draw him into your cunt yourself.

he grips your hips with both hands, slowly pushing his thick length into you, nails digging even deeper the more he pushes in.

"feels so fucking good," he says, tongue laving over your throat to collect the thin sheen of sweat that coats your skin. "could fuck you forever," he groans, your breath hitching.

you make a strangled noise low in your throat. it's been awhile since you've fucked anyone, and you've never fucked anyone as big as him before.

the stretch feels so good, though. your cunt clenches around him as he sinks in deeper, mind glazing over as you focus only on him.

"fuck," he whines when he finally seats himself fully into you, nuzzling into your neck, overwhelmed by the heat and slick, "good fucking girl, taking me so well."

he swallows thickly, waiting a couple heartbeats to enjoy this — it's been awhile for him, too.

"think you can take it, love?" and his fucking voice. you would agree to do anything as long as you could hear that rough accent along your throat, teeth skimming your skin.

"yes," you breathe out harshly, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, needing him close, close, closer.

for a man of few words, simon has a filthy mouth as he fucks into you, accompanied by groans and growls into your collar.

"never had a cunt this perfect." "fuckin' made for me." "can't wait to get my tongue in you, feel you cum on my face." "no one else can have you." "you're mine."

and you, normally far more verbal than him, are reduced to nothing more than mewls and pleas and moans for more.

you mouth and nip at his jaw when you can, wanting to mark him just as much as he's marking you. you'll be his forever if he lets you, but you'll be damned if anyone else gets to have him either.

"simon — " is the only warning you give before you cum on his cock, head thrown back as you moan through the waves of pleasure, release coating his legnth and thighs.

"that's it, baby, good girl, give it to me," he says, blunt nails digging into your waist as he grinds himself deep into you. you feel so warm and pliant, the pleasure numbing your mind as he rocks himself into you.

"wanna feel you give me one more, angel," he bites at your throat on the other side, wanting to give you matching marks. he hooks your legs over his shoulders, fucking into you deeper, hitting that spot inside you that has you seeing stars and your toes curling.

you grip at him again, clawing as he fucks into you, the sound of your wet cunt taking each thrust creating a symphony with his groans and your cries. he feels so fucking good, splitting you open and making you whole, desperate for him to cum inside.

the way your nails dig into his shoulder is the sign that you're getting close, and he thrusts just a little harder, a little meaner, your cute whines growing more desperate as you walk the precipice of another orgasm.

no one's ever made you cum more than once — sometimes, not even once — and you've never been able to do it yourself either.

but simon? fucks a second orgasm out of you like it's his life mission, ankles tightening around his neck as pleasure lines your veins, shaking as he continues to hit that spot inside you as you cum, prolonging it as much as he can.

"baby — " he chokes out, sharp teeth on your shoulder, thrusts getting sloppy. the slick of your two releases sounds so loud in your bedroom, feeling the desperation as he thrusts, deeper, harder.

"cum inside," you mumble against his cheek, nails scratching at the base of his skull as he thrusts once, twice, three times — the warmth of his release flooding your cunt.

he fists the sheets in one hand, nails dragging down your thigh as he pumps deep into you, your slick and his release seeping out of your hole, dripping down his balls and your asshole.

you stay like that, lips brushing, breathing in each other's air as you slowly come down from the high.

simon gently — so gently — lowers your legs, carefully watching your face for any signs of discomfort, settling them on his hips, hands moving up and down your thighs. "y'alright?" he asks. you swallow thickly and nod, both hands now at the base of his skull, affectionately scratching at the nape of his neck.

he slowly pulls out, and you miss the stretch and the warmth immediately. you push up on your elbows, watching as the mixture of your pleasure leaks out of you, biting you lip.

"fuckin' beautiful," he says almost reverently, mesmerized.

he spends the next hour cleaning you up, and you think your nails create permanent marks on his shoulders.

time bleeds together.

his contract renews on the twelfth month.

he heard rumors that price might switch him out for another guard.

you're at the meeting — it's your bodyguard, after all, they figure you should get some input. price has two separate folders prepared. a sharp look from simon is all price needed to know about how he feels. the tongue lashing you give your higher ups has price raising his eyebrows, and simon sits forward a little more should he need to haul you out over his shoulder.

he wouldn't mind that too much, he thinks, but he'd rather not.

ten minutes later and you're angrily signing his renewal papers, a blotch of ink at the start of your name as you didn't even read the contract before signing, lungs burning from your rant about personal safety and what the fuck are you thinking and i didn't just buy an entirely new tea set for nothing.

you grip his wrist as soon as he signs himself, dragging him to the nearest bathroom.

his hand covers your mouth as he fucks you deep and slow.

"don't worry, darling, 'm not going anywhere."

eighteen months into his contract, and he's never felt so little control before in his life.

he's meticulous, prepared, tactile.

there's a gun in his holster for distance threats and a knife in his sheath for those who dare get too close.

he makes sure to memorize the exists before you even get to the venue, now making no effort to conceal himself.

he's like a shadow, or a guard dog.

you've never felt more secure. more protected.

until —

he doesn't know how it slipped past him.

he let his eyes linger a little too long on the curve of your neck, where a new diamond pendant lay with his initial engraved on the back. he admires the dip of the dress you wear, open-back that shows the enticing expanse of your back, the dress covering you above the curve of your ass. you look back at him briefly while whomever you're with speaks, eyes sparkling in the bright light of the room, a smile reserved just for him.

he hears the cock of a hammer and his eyes snap to a gentleman who brandishes a gun like he's never held one before in his life. his eyes, though. his eyes are like fire, black with rage, staring at you with such hatred.

you look one second too late.

simon is on you right after the click of the trigger, pushing you to the floor and caging you with his body.

"stay down and don't fucking move," he growls as he reaches for his own weapon, up in a flash.

you can't hear anything except white noise and screams that sound muffled, heart pounding and making it hard to breathe. two shots ring out, in tandem, and there's the telltale sign of a body hitting the floor.

simon is by your side, eyes scanning, frantic, looking for any signs of harm.

"you okay?" he asks, carefully outstretching his hands to let you stop him from touching you should you want. you don't.

"fine," your voice cracks, and you can't stop shaking.

"you're okay, you're okay," he says, cradling your cheeks, thumbs wiping under your eyes. "i'm so fucking sorry," he adds, guilt heavy in his chest.

you grab his wrists lightly, tears streaming down your cheeks as you look him over. you gasp, unable to catch a real breath, unable to look away from his stomach.

"simon — " you say, horror laced in your voice.

he looks down, seeing the red seep through his shirt.

fuck.

at least it wasn't you, he tells himself.

nineteen months into his contract, and he isn't dead.

while he's been shot before — a fact he tells you, assuming it would comfort you, but only got him a venomous glare in return — it's been awhile.

the hospital, the stitches, the gauze and needles. he hated it then and he hates it now.

price comes to you in the hospital — they're keeping simon for a little, to make sure there's no complications with his healing — offering another guard in the interim while simon recovers.

you've never shot down a proposal so quickly in your life. the nerve.

twenty-two months into his contract, and the last of the moving boxes are taped shut and labeled. some of them in your writing, the others in his. the keys to your new house are tucked into his pocket, alongside a black velvet box.

"why do we have so much shit," you whine when packing, only two boxes deep and so many rooms left to go. you're too busy stuffing a manatee shaped steeper into a box — mana-tea, you giggled when he opened it, him rolling his eyes fondly in reply — and don't see him pause, looking at you softer, never hearing "we" before like that. never dreaming he could hear it like that.

a lot of stalling on your part and encouragement on his, and the last box is packed and placed in the back of the truck.

he laces your fingers together as you drive to the new house, a bottle of champagne already chilled.

twenty four months into his contract, and you come home with something hidden behind your back.

you smile like you have a secret, which would be a first.

it's awkward to bring around from your back, but there's a large german shepard puppy wiggling in your grip, tail wagging furiously.

he feels his heart stop for a moment, unable to take his eyes off the puppy, and then the band that's sitting around your finger. he touches his own subconsciously.

you set the ball of fur down, who immediately launches at simon, whining and wiggling and trying to give him kisses.

there's a collar and tag already there, and you watch with your heart beating faster than ever, unable to stop the smile on your lips, as he wrangles the pup enough to read it.

riley.

#ink by bambi #simon riley/reader #simon riley x reader #ghost/reader #ghost x reader #simon riley/you #simon riley x you #modern warfare imagine #modern warfare fanfic #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #mondern warfare smut

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loveyourownsmiilee · 2 months

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Important things said about Buck and Eddie for season 7:

I just think it’s super important we take a look at everything that’s been mentioned by Tim, Oliver, & Ryan about Buck and Eddie. So here’s a comprehensive list of important things mentioned about their storylines and their relationship.

Tim Minear:

"I've had a lot of fun writing Buck and Eddie, and playing their dynamic," he says. "Their friendship is the core of that coupling. I'm trying to hit it in every episode.”

Oliver Stark:

"He's just looking for his happiness, and he's willing to put himself out there again and be open to feeling things. He just wants to be happy.”

“…this really open relationship where they can confide in each other and they can step up and be there for each other in a way that feels very soft. I just think that's a really lovely, and in fact (an) important thing to be able to show on this TV show."

"They've both become quite embedded in each other's lives. "I think they've kind of bonded and connected on so many levels, whether it be work, their personal lives and then add in that kind of fun dynamic where they clearly do just get on well. I think it's just a nice recipe for a good relationship, however you choose to see it."

“We've joked about it over the years of, oh, Buck 1.0, 2.0, 3.0. This is like a whole new upgrade. This is not just a new version. I think we're looking at a brand-new man.”

“I don't think it's a conscious "I know what I want, and I'm going to go and get it." I think it's more just I'm open to things, and I'm open to floating wherever the wind takes me. And if this feels good, great. And if it doesn't, we throw that out and we try something else. I think he's just in a very open phase of his life where he just wants to find the things that bring him joy.”

“Yeah, I feel like he's always had this image or this view of what he should be doing and how life should be looking for him, and I think that can actually be quite restrictive. By him dropping those beliefs and just opening himself up to the world, I think he's going to find himself in a much better position.”

“There's some really beautiful stuff between him and Eddie and kind of them being open and sharing things with each other that they may have been reluctant to share with—I know how that's going to be taken. [Laughs] But it's true. [They're] there for each other in a very kind of open and nonjudgmental way.”

"There's something about the show when you get to see these guys doing their job, but also the personal side and the way those kind of blend together,"

“They get to show up for each other in different ways. Moving forward there’s almost like potential for things to come up in a not so great light. But we get to see their friendship persevering, and them being there in ways they didn’t necessarily expect for each other. And I just, it’s a really lovely journey for them this season.”

Ryan Guzman:

“I think we really want to make an impact on this new network and give everybody exactly what they want, and then something they didn't know they needed.”

"He is actually starting to figure out who he is outside of 'I am an Army man who has a silver badge! ... He's way more than that. He's starting to live in that [feeling] a little bit more, and I think that's freeing to him.”

"It's the blind leading the blind. In a moment of chaos, Eddie doesn't really have a sense of direction, so he reaches out for the closest person, and that closest person is Buck.”

“Outside of Christopher, it was really Buck. He was the next go-to, and I love that friendship. I love how he's able to lean on another male figure and really be vulnerable with this man and allow himself to go there because in today's society, that's not really a thing. And I would love to see that more.”

“So I would say that, yeah, outside of Christopher, Buck would be the second closest thing that he can have as a relationship.”

“And Eddie was a mess. I think at that moment, the friendship had a turning point and now has allowed Buck and Eddie to really share as much or whatever they'd want, the scariest things in the world they could share with each other. And we're going to be seeing more of that this season.”

“I think Eddie's going to have a let go moment. He's going to have some fun, I feel. He is going to have a great time trying to just let go and see where that gets him.”

“Eddie's journey thus far has been fraught with highs and lows, but he's overcome many hardships and has continued to work on becoming the best version of himself and growing into the person he wants to be.”

"I believe these are all very relatable stories, and I don't feel like individuals necessarily find the right partner; I feel like they become the right partner,"

"He's able to be a little bit more honest with himself and maybe slow things down because he would much rather instinctually want to just get into another relationship and be monogamous with one individual and then hope it works out.

"He's taking more calculated steps, so ! believe there's some hope there for Eddie just based on the fact that he has a better sense of who he is."

"And then go to Buck and say, 'I trust you with my child, and I see how much you put in for my son; this goes beyond friendship, and I love you to the core. To have that sense of vulnerability is a sense of strength that has been shown.”

“Well, there’s something brand new for both of us. I can only say that much.”

#buddie #911 spoilers #evan buckley #eddie diaz #oliver stark #ryan guzman #tim minear #911 cast #911 on abc

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reiderwriter · 3 months

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hii! could you write smut where spence and reader are bestfriends and one day shes in his car and he snaps and is like “I LOVE YOU” and like they have sex in the car (like with sub spence) and can you include spence getting bj THANKYOUUU

A/N: Car love confessions always remind me of the electric love tiktok "I kissed my best friend" trend that I was OBSESSED with two years ago, and my GOD was this a full-circle moment for me.

Warnings: sub!Spencer, semi-public sex, slight voyeurism, oral sex (m recieving), slight cum play, car sex (bj only), like this was slightly self-indulgent and I had to post it right after I finished writing...

The air outside was cold, but the car had been running for an hour now as you listened to Spencer Reid talk about his day. Whether your cheeks were flushed from the heat coming from the fans or from his subtle attentions, you couldn't discern.

Spencer, your best friend of nine years, who had been around the country saving lives and facing the most horrendous criminals in the world, was currently sat in the passenger seat of your car excitedly mumbling about Star Trek.

“I can't believe you decided to watch it, and you did it without me,” he smiled at you, his body angled to face you just ever so slightly.

He'd started by filling you in on the case he'd just returned from, then moved onto books he'd read recently (a conversation you could absolutely contribute to, being a college librarian yourself, and the source of many of his books).

And then he'd asked you about your day, and you'd spilled about watching a few episodes of classic Star Trek, and all of his joy and knowledge had bubbled up to his lips without even a thought of pushing it down at all.

“I've been hounding you for several years, and you decide on a whim to watch it today?” He'd meant for the question to come out with an annoyed tone, but he couldn't hold back the smile passing over his lips as you laughed at him.

“Spencer, it's a TV show. We can watch it again together. In fact, why don't we do just that? Drive to mine, and we can sit through as many episodes of Star Trek as your heart desires.”

“I wanted to see your initial reactions, though. I wanted to tell you all the behind the scenes knowledge only true trekkies know about.”

You laughed loudly at this, especially as you saw the pout on his lips as he mumbled the word “trekkies.”

“Hey, stop laughing,” he said, but his chest was heaving with a chuckle of his own. And for the life of you, you couldn't. He was sitting there pouting because he wanted to see how much you'd enjoy his favorite TV show, and by god, did he look adorable.

“I'm sorry, Spence, I-” you tried to cover your mouth, but found your hands were both needed to hold your stomach instead as the laughs that wracked your body veered on painful.

“Y/N, really!” He said, fully grinning now, pout abandoned. But you didn't stop.

Nothing in the air changed or paused at that second, as his head swooped closer to you, but your body instantly reacted to his closeness.

It was as if all the hairs on your body stood on end as he tipped up your chin and quickly stole away all the oxygen in your body.

Before your mind could react, your hands were already tangled in his hair, making sure he couldn't pull away. But you felt him smiling into the kiss, and you knew he wouldn't ever want to pull away now that you'd accepted him.

With empty lungs, you finally had to separate, and to your surprise, a giggle still flittered from your lips. This time, you did clap a hand over your lips, though.

“You're laughing still? I just kissed you to shut you up, and you're still laughing.” He said, tucking the few strands of hair behind your ear but still refusing to move too far away.

“You should've seen your face. You were pouting and adorable and-”

“I love you.”

Your heart, that had previously been beating remarkably fast after his kiss (and likely from the fit of laughter preceding it), stopped at his words.

You'd heard people describing butterflies in their stomach before, but this was more intense. It was more like your heart was a pinball that had just been launched back into the machine and was bouncing around in your ribcage hitting objects and trying desperately not to detach from your chest and jump into his arms.

“I love you, Y/N.” He smiled, and it was sweet and simple, and even if you were not simple people and life had never been particularly sweet to you, you allowed your happiness to soar as you leaned back in and pressed your lips against his.

Maybe it was the nine years of waiting (though had you been asked, you'd have been totally oblivious to your quite obvious feelings for the man). Maybe it was again the heat in the car. Maybe it was perhaps the two weeks in which you'd not seen him that led you to venture a step further than you usually would.

But within seconds of tangling your tongue with his in his mouth, sending him reciprocated confessions with each passing breath, you somehow found the energy to pull yourself up and onto his lap.

“Y/N, we're in a car-” his protests were weak as you suckled your way down his neck.

“It's dark outside, and I love you.” His hands gripped possessively on your hips as you continued to shower him in affection.

“What if someone sees us?” He whimpered as you loosened his tie, discarding it so you could pop his buttons open and trail more kisses across his beautiful collarbone.

“Then I hope they understand enough to walk away and leave us alone to love each other.”

You'd managed to get all of his buttons undone and sat squirming in his lap as your fingers brushed across his pert nipples. His head was thrown back to allow you access to the part of his neck that, when you'd run your tongue along it, had him gripping your ass and rubbing your core along the now obvious tent in his pants.

“Y/N, please….” He panted, and you again returned your lips to his face, brushing over his eyes, his nose, his jaw, and his lips. You were blind and discovering your whole new world through your lips, mapping his features inch by inch.

His whimpers grew louder, more urgent. He was almost becoming whiny, and that pout from earlier shadowed across his face again, so delightful that you'd immediately wanted to kiss it away from him.

Dry humping in the passenger seat wasn't going to be enough you decided, and reluctantly drew away from him quickly.

“Y/N, what-” He weakly gripped the material of your pants, his quiet protests from earlier forgotten as he begged for your touch to return.

“Trust me, I love you,” you winked at him again, marvelling in his flush, the hand he wiped across his face to hide his quiet joy.

You shimmied yourself down so your face was hovering just above his cock, straining through his pants. You slowly undid the buttons and let his cock spring up, wrapping a firm hand around it when it was fully released.

His hand came down to cover yours, even as the other covered his flushed cheeks and eyes in embarrassment.

“Spencer, let me see your face. I want you to look at me, please, Spencer.” You cooed at him as you quietly removed your hand from under his, instead moving it to his so you could control his movements.

You let your breaths hit his cock as you controlled his hand, helping him to slowly jerk off as he gave into the pleasures you were so desperate to gift him.

“Spencer, please, for me. Show me your fucked out face, I want to see it so bad.”

With each slow stroke, his body seemed to grow heavier with lust until the hand on his face eventually fell, and you could lock eyes with him once again.

You smiled brightly at him and, without missing a beat, took him into your mouth.

The angle was awkward, but you only needed to see that shock and just in his eyes briefly, so you manoeuvred your head into a better position and began fresh.

You held his hand, holding his cock, and sunk your lips down as far as they'd go, before lifting slowly off. You did it again, and heard the hiss from his lips as he enjoyed the pressure.

You sped up slightly and felt his discarded hand land on your hair. It wasn't domineering or controlling, but more comforting, as he tugged your hair behind your ear, eventually bundling it up into a gentle pony tail to keep it out of the way of your task.

“Y/N, I love you so much,” he whimpered and moaned, and you squeezed his hand in response, intensifying the pressure on his cock while also responding to his confession.

You were going to show him just how deeply you loved him by giving him as much pleasure as you could muster.

“Pull off, Y/N, please, I'm going to-” He bit his lip, biting off the sentence, almost as if he were afraid of speaking the vulgar words into existence. You could feel his muscles going taut underneath your hands, though, knowing exactly how close he was to losing all control and giving into passion.

And you certainly weren't pulling away.

Instead, you pushed your head down once again, going further than you'd managed thus far, nose tickled by his pubic hairs as he shot his load down your throat.

You gagged, of course you gagged, and he let out a guttural moan, sensitivity apparent in each of his twitches and ragged breaths.

You made sure to keep as much of him inside your mouth and rose off his cock, looking up at him again through eyes half-lidded with lust. You made sure he was watching as you smiled and swallowed a mouthful of his cum, making sure to lick your lips after and watching his throat bob as he processed the entire scenario.

You again climbed into his lap, but this time, you just pressed your head to his bare chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, and listened to the thrum of his heart.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said again. You hummed a response and waited for him to say it again and again. Hopefully, for the rest of your lives.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n

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cup1dt3a · 1 year

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Do you still accept requests?

How would it be if the human reader has a little brother or sister who watches Wally's show, and well the reader like a good big brother the reader takes care of them and watches along with them, well what if Yandere wally falls in love with the reader, what would happen?

Tysm for the request this is the first one I’ve ever had for a story! And ofc! My request are always open unless stated otherwise. Also I mainly just do gender neutral!readers so the reader will be gender neutral!

” It’s starting! It’s starting! It’s starting! Come on you slow poke!”

“ Ow! Ok ok! Geez how you so strong for a seven year old?”

You muttered as your younger sister tugged you towards the Tv. Eyes gleaming with pure enchantment as the cheesy theme song of the puppet show they loved to watch. You being the good older sibling you were would watch it with them since your parents were too busy most of the time to watch the show with her.

“ Eeeeee! Look it’s Wally!” You cheered as the colorful puppet appeared on the screen.

“ Yup they’re your favorite huh?” You asked them with a chuckle to how excited they got.

“ Of course they paint very well and they look so cool!” They exclaimed while the puppets talked away.

As the show went on you just watched away with your little sibling. Sure it was just another little kids show but you had to admit the character designs were just so well done and amazing.

“Now what should I paint today?” Wally asked on the big screen looking towards the audience.

“ A rainbow rose!” They jumped.

“ A DANCING BLUE FLAMINGO!” You shouted just to mess with them seeing them angrily huff.

“ As if he’d paint that. Wally is so much more mature than that!” They crossed their arms as you giggled.

“ What an excellent decision! A dancing blue flamingo!” He cheered.

Your sibling ate their words with a pitiful glare as they looked up at you sticking your tongue out at them. You both watched the episode making a few jokes here and there to upset them. It was all fun in games for you two. It’s not really like your parents were ever around either. Sure it sucked but at least you weren’t alone as much as you wished but fuck it they’re fun to be around so why not.

You had put your little sister to bed a while ago. At least 2 hours ago and decided it was time to check on them due to their nightmares they have. As you went to their room you had heart their voice outside the room along with another’s voice it sounded familiar but you knew it wasn’t one of your parents. As you hurriedly walked over to where you heard the voices your heart beat fast. Rushing as faster than you ran to check on who the hell was talking to your seven year old sister.

“ Yeah! _____ loves that too!” You happily said as you turned to corner in a panic.

“ Mhm! You’re so helpful little one but I think it’s off to bed with you now. Go on sweet dreams little dreamer.” Wally said on the big screen with a smile and tilt to his head.

“ Oh geez. What are you doing up watching TV?” You sighed in relief.

“ Wally wanted to talk with me. And I didn’t want to be rude!” They replied looking up at you while you took them to bed holding their small hand.

“ Ok but next time Wally wants to “talk” with you tell him ____ said no.” You told them playing into their little fantasy.

“ Fine…Can you watch Welcome Home with me tomorrow still?” They sad with puppy dog eyes.

“ Yes yes. How about after work we go have a little sleep over in my room sound good?” You asked as they nodded with excitement.

As you went back into the living room you had noticed the TV was still on with Wally staring at you. Well it looked that way but as he silently stared you hadn’t noticed how much larger his smile got before you shut it off with a big yawn.

You had been having to take your younger sibling to work with you. It’s not like you wanted to but it’s not like you had a choice either. Because your parents were never home and your sister was to you get to be alone either way. Plus your boss was ok with it since they would bring their own kid to work. They would play together with each other a lot and we’re friends so it was a win win either way.

“ You having fun with charley?” You asked as they nodded playing with the other’s action figures.

It was getting late so you had to remind them to start wrapping things up. They sadly agreed upset it was the end of your shift before they remembered about your sleep over with them. They had said their goodbyes and hugged any other friends they had before you had left. They had skipped as they held your hand back to the apartment. You then came upon a display case of old TV’s they all displayed Wally.

“ Look! Loook! It’s Wally he’s waving at us! Hiiii Wally!” They jumped with glee waving at the puppet on screen.

Indulging your younger sister you also waved greeting the puppet before walking away with your younger sibling. Not noticing the out of order signs or the way the puppet had followed you both with its head.

” Sleep Over! Sleep Over! SLEEP OVER!” They chanted as you popped the popcorn and got a few apples for them too.

You both went back to your room rolling your eyes as they dashed over towards your room. You also has a TV in there to watch your own shows other than Welcome Home. Such as more horror shows and adult shows because you didn’t want to accidentally influence them with inappropriate things or have to answer the embarrassing questions of theirs.

“ So let me guess Welcome Home?” You guessed without a doubt as they exclaimed a gleeful yes.

You then set the Tv up to play the show as they started to munch on some popcorn. She then started to try and aim it at your mouth every time missing but you still encouraged them to keep trying until one lucky shot they finally got it in your mouth.

“ Wooo! I did it!” The cheered bounced up and down.

“ Good job little dreamer!” Wally clapped on point as if he was congratulating your sister with you.

“ Thanks Wally it was so cool right?” They asked expecting an answer.

“Oh why it was very cool! You think you can do it again?” He asked with a tilt to his head.

You sat there in concern as the two talked observing as they spoke to each other.

“ How are you doing that?” You asked them with a slight shake to your voice.

“ Doing what…Omg you’re so dumb just talk to him like any other person ____! ____ can be so dumb sometimes right Wally?” They asked looking over to the puppet.

“ Now that wasn’t nice? You should apologize to ____ they must feel very sad now.” He told the small child.

They hurriedly apologize just as the puppet asked. He was a puppet. He couldn’t have known your name. Your little sister isn’t smart enough to even think of a prank like this. They’ve been doing this. This has been going on for weeks! Finding them in front of the TV talking to the puppet with glee.

“ ____? You ok?” She asked you tugging on your sleeve with concern for your silence.

“ Yes, Yes I’m fine…So wally how long have you two been talking.” You asked in disbelief still pale.

“ I think the second day you both watched the show! You’re such a good sibling always going on with the little dreamers antics you almost make me envy you with how cute of a sister you have.” They replied.

That’s not part of any script. This wasn’t normal!

“ Yeah! Wally would ask me to go and talk to him about you!” they said with a smile on your face while yours remained pale.

“ Yes I couldn’t help myself and they always sneaked up late at night for a snack and mischievous little thing they are started to just talk to me. I couldn’t help but ask about you. Always so hard working and kind to the little one.” You dreamily sighed.

“ Uh huh.” You said.

You felt sick. How could you not have noticed this!? How did you let this slide for months? Are you that neglectful? God you’re almost as bad as your parents! Your little sibling has been talking with some puppet who sounds obsessed with you as they go on and on about how perfect you are. You had noticed your sister start to yawn cuddling up on the bed. You took her to her room as soon as she passed out wanting to have your own conversation with the puppet. As you came back there he stood int the dark screen with that sinister smile peering into your soul.

“ What exactly have you been asking of my little sister?” You asked him with a slight grit to your teeth.

“ Just about you. Your likes, interests, hobbies, insecurities…. Everything about you really!” He stated.

“ Why though?” You asked feeling insane for doing this.

“ Because you’re all I can think about. All I ever dream about! All I ever want. Just look at yourself. So perfect so free like a song bird.” He sighed looking as if he was drooling.

“ You’re just so perfect. I love and want everything to do with….Why are you trying to turn the TV off?” He pouted with a tilt as you tried to turn your Tv off.

“ No No! My sweet dreamer you’re finally acknowledging me! I won’t let you stop now! We’ll be together forever! Just me you and your sister!” He gasped getting closer to the Tv.

“ YOU CANT LEAVE ME! I LOVE YOU! I LIVE FOR YOU! I BREATHE FOR YOU! YOU CANT LEAVE ME NOT AGAIN!” He cried out smooshing his face to the TV.

The screen then constantly displayed love me on it over and over again while the puppets eyes shook. “ Please love me! I need you!!I promise I won’t harm them at all just please keep listening to me! I need you!” He yelled banging onto the screen.

You had no idea what to do or to listen to him as he constantly cried out of any ounce of your attention. Almost like a touch starved animal.

“You…promise?” You asked as he nodded smile growling bigger by the second. What have you done?

Tysm again for the request they are open! Hope you’re all having a good day/night or that it gets better!

Part 2 ( Enjoy<333)

Sincerely- Cup1dT3A💌

#wally darling #welcome home #yandere wally darling #welcome home wally #wally darling x reader #welcome home x reader

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gojoath · 5 days

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ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ ARE YOU STILL WATCHING? OKKOTSU YŪTA

your boyfriend, yūta, doesn’t ever like sharing what’s his. apparently that statement goes for your fictional crushes too.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. aged up characters. jealousy -> over fictional characters. fem oral receiving. yuta gets jealous over your fictional crushes. possessiveness. toxic relationships. wc, 3.2k.

note. another repost (did not realise how much i wrote for this)

yuuta loves your nights spent together. the ones where it’s just the both of you— as it should be, wrapped in each others embrace, pressed into his side for movie marathons and new episodes of your favourite tv show just moments after they’ve aired.

it’s like nights of proof, evidence that he’s all you’ll ever need because he’s never seen you laugh or smile like you do when you’re with him. he hopes you’ll eventually be able to see that this is the happiest you’ll ever be, the type of joy of being with him. wrapped in his love.

it’s a night quite like this one, yuuta gives you a sweet smile as he pushes through the living room door— greeted with your soft figure on the sofa, already flicking through the netflix homescreen and the sofa dips under his weight when he sits beside you.

hes watching you so intently, his still gaze cutting through your features and the feeling urges you to turn to meet him just as you decide on your entertainment for the night with a giddy smile.

“hi, yuu-“ you grin as your boyfriend yuuta presses into you, laughing into the kiss he smears against your lips and he thinks you feel so warm under his touch. his hands are cold against your skin but you don’t run or shy away from it when he squeezes at your waist, your lips moving seamlessly against his until he’s letting his eyes peer towards the tv softly to see what you’ve chosen.

only then does he pull away from you, with a soft frown on his pretty features but his hands still hold you before he’s turning to sigh.

“but baby, i thought it was our night.” the show on the tv isn’t yuuta’s usual choice for your nights alone. he much preferred the romcons or chick-flicks that you normally chose — the ones that gave him the opportunities to inch closer, to squeeze into you during confession scenes or steal a kiss alongside your on-screen idols.

“but yuuta, please— they just released a movie, you know how much i love the series.” you’re looking up at him with a slight glow to your gaze, deliberately tracing your hands across his shoulders — pushing them through his hair like a silent little plea. “and you know who is in it.” you continue, but your words make your boyfriend stiffen this time — something harsher to his gaze because he knows exactly who you mean when you’re biting on your lower lip to hide your smile. his smile, the one that’s reserved for him. it’s supposed to be his.

you know who, being your favourite character from your favourite show. you’ve never openly admitted him to be your on-screen crush but yuuta knows better than anyone that he definitely is. he can always see the way you fidget whenever he’s on screen, doing something heroic and oh so insufferable— he doesn’t see the appeal. he doesn’t know why you do either when you have him by your side. he’s been made deliberately handsome, to play into naive, sweet girls like you’s fantasies but you don’t need someone like that. isn’t he already enough for you?

maybe it’s the thought of being saved by a hero but your boyfriend could do that for you too. he could be your hero — it wouldn’t be hard to draw you into an alleyway with a cursed spirit or maybe two, he’d jump at the opportunity to save you — to reveal himself in all of his glory.

although yuuta promised he would never let anything bad happen to you, it would all be part of his carefully curated plan to have you pliant and scared. you’d never be in any real danger — just enough to be begging for your true hero. you’d cry for him, right? not for anything else?

but despite all of that and because he loves you, he can never say no to you. not when you’re blinking up at him deliberately sweet and starry eyed, tracing shapes into his sensitive skin until the tips of his ears are red and his answer is pushed between the next press of your lips against his. “o-okay, we can watch it.” because he wants, needs to make you happy.

“really? you’re the best!” the smile and praise yuuta’s answer earns from you is so warming and he’s convinced himself it’s because of him, and not because hes letting you watch the movie for your favourite character instead. it’s because you love him, that’s it.

so he lets you kick your feet cutely as you get yourself comfortable beside him, letting him pull you tight into his side like hes staking a claim against the pixels on the tv — like some territorial show of a wild animal claiming it’s mate as his dull gaze focuses on the tv infront of you.

but it doesn’t take long before he’s irritable and fidgeting. two minutes into the opening credits and his eyes are on you because he can almost feel the way you’re beaming at the screen— catching the first glimpse of you know whoand already yuuta wants to kill him. what would it take for him to prove he wasn’t all that you imagine him to be?

would you want to watch your boyfriend tear him apart in the name of love?

but instead of that, he finds another means of bringing you back to him. he lets the cool trace of his fingertips press beneath your shirt as you shudder into him. your eyes are still on the screen but your body leans closer, like an instinct of sorts that feels like it burns him.

another breath and yuuta leans down into you, pressing his lips beneath your ear then across your jawline and he can feel the way your body seems to rise in temperature with every kiss. you’re not pushing him away yet but you’re not looking at him either, so he continues — tracing messy, twisted hearts into your skin between suckled kisses, until his lips are leaving sensitive little marks down your neck and you’re panting against him softly.

“yuuta, the movie.” is all you finally manage but he doesn’t care, couldn’t care because you’re his and he needs to prove it, as silly and twisted as it may seem. he needs to, and you let him.

“sorry, i— i just need you. i cant help it.” theres a strain to yuuta’s voice as he answers you but he feels you shudder when he’s pushing himself onto the floor between your thighs— leaning up to continue his onslaught of kisses before he’s trailing lower gradually, painfully slow until you’re finally looking at him.

he can still hear the effects of the movie in the background but your attention is on him and he feels something burn in his heart at that. that you chose him over everyone else, he knew you’d never abandon or betray him. you really dolove him like you say.

yuuta’s teeth nip at your collarbones before he’s tugging at your shorts to pull them down then your thighs after, letting you lie back more on the sofa as he presses himself beneath them. he pushes them apart to spread you almost too quickly with his next breath as his eyes break from yours only to take you in.

you’re left in only your shirt and panties, so exposed and pretty as they cling to the warmth of your intimate skin and it makes the coiling pleasure in yuuta’s gut tighten delightfully as he admires you.

“yuuta,” your lips part to moan and it makes him shudder before he’s covering it with a sweet smile and his hands are on you.

it happens so fast when you feel yuuta push your panties to the side messily and the first swipe of his finger between your folds is purposeful, but rushed. it’s like he’s desperate to feel you beneath him, warm and wet as he drags the rough pad of his finger beneath the hood of your clit to roll the sensitive bud. you twitch, cutely, grabbing onto the fabric of the sofa cushions beneath you as the press of his touch makes you whimper softly.

“you sound pretty.“ he hums before he’s deliberately pressing down onto your puffy clit harder, hungrily, like he’s trying to force more of those sweet sounds out of you, only for him, as he spreads you even wider. he keeps up the same pace and pressure until you’re wet enough for him to push two fingers inside, almost whining when he’s not met with much resistance.

yuuta’s fingers are long, long enough for you to hiss at the stretch but your walls still squeeze and mould around them so effortlessly as you take him in. it makes something blissful flutter in his tummy when your head rolls back at the pleasure. so he shifts one of your thighs over his shoulder as he keeps you spread, ready and accessible for him while he gazes up at you from under long lashes and leans into press his first soft kiss between your folds.

but what your boyfriend doesn’t expect to see with his next blink is your eyes on the tv, even if only for a moment— it’s a moment you’re not even looking at him despite the way he’s pushing his fingers into your cunt. he wonders if you’re imagining your tv crush to be the one between your thighs right now, pressing into the spots inside of you that make your walls squeeze and quiver. he hates this, he hates him. do you always think about him instead of your boyfriend?

“baby?” you hum like you’re aknowledging the call but your eyes are still on the screen over his shoulder despite the way your ever loving boyfriend is between your thighs. his tongue is on your clit, tracing it in messy circles and all you can give him in return is a soft pant — why arent you looking at him when he’s treating you so well? why are your eyes still on someone else instead.

“baby.” he calls again but it’s accompanied by a deliberately deep press of his fingers into your walls as he pushes himself up, pulling his mouth away from you and deliberately kneeling infront of the tv until you’re forced to meet his dark gaze. but the depth of frost it seems to hold almost makes you shudder beneath it. it’s lacking it’s usual dull glow despite the way his fingers still press hot between your folds.

“do you want me to stop?” yuuta hums, voice soft despite the way he’s looking at you, holding your gaze like he’s asking you to beg for your life instead of the simple, easily answered question that rings true.

“n-no,”

“then why won’t you look at me?” he’s not unaware of the way the drop in his tone makes you squeeze around his fingers, the obedience earns you another languid press of the digits into you — so deep you can feel the cold touch of the promise ring on his ring finger. the one you wear too. you remember the promise you both made, don’t you? “i thought you liked this.”

“i do, yuu.. please, it’s so good.” your voice takes a higher pitch than normal as yuuta pulls his fingers back out of you, almost teasing you with the reminder he could pull away entirely as you give him a teary eyed blink.

“but you’re not looking at me. you’re watching him,” his gaze deepens, lidded and sleepy when he leans closer to you — ghosting his lips against yours until you’re pressing back into the cushions and your lungs squeeze on your next breath. if it wasn’t for the way your pussy was trying so desperately to pull him back in, he’d think you were scared.

“no, no it just distracted me. i love it,” your toes curl from where they’re resting in the air but your answer pleases yuuta enough to draw himself back again before he’s back between your thighs. his gaze remains though, watching you so intently — you wouldn’t look away again, would you? another saccharine press of his fingers into your walls and he scissors them, making you moan before he’s asking his next question.

“what else? what else do you love?” his warm breath rolls over your slick folds, his dark eyes wavering from yours slightly to shine on where his digits sink into you.

“i love you, yuu— just please, keep going,” the love confession is enough for him, for now and your gaze stays true on his own as his head lowers and his tongue curls against your clit before he’s dragging it back up.

yuuta feels sticky at the words still and he groans, angling his fingers inside of you up with twisted purpose, like he’s showing off how well he can work you — play with your body infront of the screen like he’s making your favourite actor watch. “then watch me.” he brushes them against the spongy spot inside of you, his request murmured between your folds until your hands are in his hair to pull him deeper. “please,”

it’s languid, filthy the way he pumps his fingers in and out of your wet heat, complimenting it with kitten licks because he knows exactly how to pull the pleasure out of you, the pleasure he owns. the sound effects from the movie are doing little to cover up the lewd squelching sounds accompanied with his slurps and smacks as his eyes lift to touch yours again.

“he can’t touch you like this, baby” yuuta continues to sink his fingers into you as he speaks, swirling tantalising circles into your clit with his tongue while his fingers drag more slick out, making a sloppy mess between your thighs as he laps it back up. it’s a little cruel the way he doesn’t give into your fantasies but why should he when you’re his, so he buries his face into you with a loud swallow—every noise so much messier and wetter than the last, your hands grab and curl in the dark mess of hair and he hums as he urges you to answer. “it’s only me, remember?”

“y-yes, only you.” you reply like you’re hypnotised, in some sort of hormone-drunken trance but oh he loves you like this. it’s like your pretty little head can’t even thinkabout anything else that isn’t your hopelessly devoted boyfriend with every flick of his tongue and twist of his wrist.

“what are you thinking about, hm?” it’s fucked up the way he wishes he could look into your mind, to tear you apart for your thoughts and secrets — to strip your bare and peer into your soul.

“w-what?” your hips stutter, shake beneath him but yuuta finds it too easy to hold you there — pressing more of his weight onto you as he presses your ass into the cushions, and he takes a deep inhale of your pussy with his next lewd suckle on your clit. he could get high on your scent, on your taste and your being.

“do you think about me?” but still, he continues because he needs to hear you say it. to tell him it’s only him you think about when you’re on the brink of orgasm, when it warms and licks at the base of your spine — when you’re so sickwith pleasure and want is it him that’s on your mind? tell him it’s him.

put him at ease after all hes done for you. after how he loves you.

“mhm,” you stutter as yuuta licks into your pussy with a hunger that’s so uniquely him, and you almost choke on a babbled cry of his name as you tremble. you feel him flatten his tongue against your sensitive bud before he’s sucking it gently between his lips and pulling away with an exaggerated pop that has butterflies pooling in your stomach. he’s trained you so well, mindlessly coaxing you into feeding into his obsession because you know it’ll earn you a sweet reward.

“do you want me to save you?” your pussy throbs around his digits and he breathes a warm sigh across your skin, your eyes clenching tight as your thighs quiver against the width of his shoulders and your head drops back as his dark gaze cuts up into you. you feel him drag his tongue in slow, thorough swirls over your clit as your hips rock side to side. “p-please, baby. tell me,”

“y-yes, ‘m gonna cum— save me,” you tell him and your mind feels like it filled with cotton— thick with pleasure but yuuta smile’s against your folds as he works you with practiced precision. he’s watching your hips twist under his touch and feeding on your reactions, devouring you entirely with every lav of his tongue as he breathes into you.

it only takes a few more twists over your puffy clit, accompanied by the deep graze of his fingertips against the sensitive spots inside of you until you’re cumming, so hard and good it almost makes you see white completely as your toes curl and ache. your thighs squeeze around his cheeks and it’s eager the way he buries himself even deeper into you, slurping greedily at the cream his fingers urge to push out of you and he moans at the feeling of you making a mess of his mouth and cheeks.

every whimpered whine against your folds makes you feel even better — prolonging your blissful state and yuuta fucking loves it, so he doesn’t stop until he’s full. not until you’re stuttering out his name and pushing at his head with the overstimulation that makes you burn with every drawn out flick of his tongue. his fingers ease away from the tight, saccharine squeeze of your walls.

you’re adorable as you come down from your high, all dazed and drowsy and your boyfriend admires you as he lets his cheek rest on your still quivering thigh, gazing up at you despite how heavy his cock feels against his sweats right now. your hands are in his hair still but they’ve stopped pulling at his roots, instead you’re busying yourself with brushing the dark hair back from his features as he gives you an adoring blink.

you smile, albeit a little sleepy but it warms yuuta completely at how much love he swears it holds, “yuuta, now we have to restart the movie,” you’re pouting now but you’re pretty, so pretty it earns you a kind smile from your boyfriend despite your want to still watch that same movie he just did his best to pull you away from.

“but, baby, i don’t feel like watching anymore.” his words are soft, accompanied by his fingertips trailing up the inside of your thigh to squeeze and you’re still so sensitive the touch makes you shudder. his next touch is a little higher, just short of your folds as he tests the waters and despite the lingering remnants of your orgasm— you don’t push him away, even when his finger is swiping through the sensitive petals of your pussy once more.

he really didn’t have anything to worry about, did he? you really do love him. the realisation makes him smile again before he’s twisting gently to bite at the inside of thigh— suckling at the skin to leave a mark until you jolt at the sting.

“i found something else to do that’s better for both of us. it’s our night, right? so come, give me all of you.”

#cw yandere #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #okkotsu yuta smut #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta smut #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #okkotsu yuta x you #yuuta smut #jjk x you #yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x you #yuuta x you

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xcherryerim · 18 days

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Strange Fascination

Part two: The Shadow Under the Bed

part one

Stalker Mike x gn!reader

“And your dreams, Won't you say that in there I'm yours and keep you safe? Say you're mine. I'll always be there.” — Monster Under the Bed by Emily Mei

Notes: I would recommend reading the first part, as it explains Mike’s obsession and stalking behavior, but in summary, After not seeing you to pick up your brother he panics and goes around the area where you live to see the reason of your absence. At night, he decides to break into your place.

Also idk if it’s obvious but Mike is too high and sleepy that he thinks he’s having a sex/wet dream but he isn’t. If you wanna skip to the smut part look for the “❥”

"Not feeling like going to school today, bud?" You asked gently, settling onto Gregory's bed. Placing your hand on his forehead, you winced at the heat radiating from his skin. Sickness was a rarity in your family, making it all the more frightening when it struck.

He shook his head weakly, a small cough escaping him. His pale face was marred with beads of sweat, his eyes brimming with pain, looking like a Victorian man on his deathbed.

…

Despite your brother's reluctance to eat, you managed to coax him into trying a few bites of his favorite meal - mac and cheese. The comforting aroma filled the room, mingling with the laughter from the TV as you played his favorite show, South Park.

You chose the most lighthearted episodes, hoping to distract him from his discomfort. The colorful animation flickered across the screen, punctuated by the show's signature humor. It wasn't much, but it was something.

"Can we get pizza later?" Gregory pleaded, those puppy dog eyes working their magic. You rolled your eyes. Sometimes, it was impossible not to cave in.

"You're pushing it," you responded, but even as you spoke, you knew you were losing the battle. His eyes held a pleading look, a silent promise that maybe, just maybe, he would start feeling better soon.

"Please," he begged, and there it was - that hint of vulnerability that got you every time. You exhale, relenting.

"Fine, for dinner, we can get pizza."

Gregory's face broke into a grin, the first genuine smile you'd seen today. Relief washed over you, knowing that you'd made him happy, even in this small way.

As you sat next to your brother, watching him slowly pick at his food, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy. You remembered how it felt to be sick, how even the simplest tasks seemed impossible. But you also remembered how comforting it was to have someone there for you, offering support and understanding.

So, you continued to sit with him, occasionally laughing at the absurdity unfolding on the screen. And as the hours passed, you hoped that your presence, along with the familiarity of his favorite things, would help him feel just a little bit better.

….

After tucking Gregory in, you wished him a good night, feeling a sense of happiness wash over you.

❥ Despite everything, tonight had been a relatively normal evening. Yet, as you settled into bed, your exhaustion refused to cooperate. Sleep evaded you, a cruel tease dancing just beyond reach.

Frustrated, you stood up, making your way to the medicine cabinet. Melatonin pills, their potential untapped. With a sigh, you popped a few, waiting impatiently for the promised drowsiness, To no avail.

Instead, you found yourself pouring a generous portion of liquid sleeping aid down your throat, mimicking the carefree college days of the past.

“This is ridiculous,” you thought, tossing and turning under your covers.

However, the combination of pills and syrup began to take effect, lulling you into slumber. But as the night wore on, you found yourself awake once more. Tired of fighting, you clicked on the lamp beside your bed, casting a warm glow across the room.

Walking to the window, you gazed upon the waning crescent moon hanging low in the sky. Something was comforting about its steady presence, a constant among the chaos of life. A yawn escaped you, and with it, a realization. Perhaps your sleeplessness stemmed from worry. Worrying about Gregory, about the future, about everything in between.

With a deep breath, you decided to address the root of your restlessness. Stepping out of your room, you headed towards the kitchen, determined to make yourself a calming cup of tea.

Once you returned, clutching the steaming cup of tea, you paused near the window. In your haste, the cup tilted slightly, spilling hot liquid onto your leg. A sharp yelp, almost a full-on scream escaped your lips, but you stifled it immediately, not wanting to disturb Gregory.

At the sudden scream, Mike’s panic gnawed at his insides, threatening to consume him whole. He had pushed his luck too far, he thought. Invading personal space without consideration. Now, he waited, trembling and exposed, anticipating the inevitable confrontation.

Hot tendrils of pain radiated from the spot, but you forced yourself to focus on your breath. Slow, deep inhales and exhales carried you through the discomfort, easing the sting. Soon enough, the heat subsided, leaving behind a dull ache.

When you achieved a semblance of peace, you pulled out your sage green journal. Flipping to a blank page. Chronicles of your day poured onto the paper, each sentence capturing the highs and lows of your day. It was therapeutic, a way to process the chaos of life.

And then, there it was - mention of Mike. Your words were casual, almost carefree. “I didn't get to see Mike today though, hopefully, I can tomorrow.” You mumbled just two sentences, but they carried weight. You remembered his name, and you wanted to see him again.

Underneath the bed, Mike's body stiffened. How had you retained his name after such brief encounters? The thought filled him with equal parts pride and embarrassment. You, who knew him so little, desired more interaction. This revelation shook him to his core, Was he just a stranger in your eyes, or did you hold a place for him in your heart?

"Mike, Mike, Mike." Your voice was soft, laced with a mix of exhaustion and longing. As you reached for the nightstand, your hands quivered with anticipation. Mike watched from his hiding place, his heart pounding in his chest.

The moment you pulled out your toy, his eyes widened in shock. This was not what he had expected but, as you began to use it, your body writhing with delight, he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction.

The combination of drowsiness from the pills and syrup, along with the physical release, created a heady mixture of sensations. You moaned softly, your voice ringing through the room. Each sound was like a siren's call, drawing him closer to the edge of his sanity.

His adrenaline surged, his body tense with anticipation. As you repeated his name, his heart swelled with an emotion he couldn't quite name. It was a strange mix of pride, longing, and something else entirely - something dangerous.

He felt himself leaking precum, the mere sound of your voice driving him to the brink. Disbelief washed over him; you were thinking of him during your moments of intimacy. He was grateful - no, relieved - that he wasn't alone in this longing.

Without another thought, Mike unzipped his pants, lowering both trousers and boxers just enough to free his aching erection. Semi-naked to the cool night air, his need pulsed with every beat of his heart. Every whimper you uttered drew him closer, matching the rhythm with feverish intensity.

As if entranced, he stroked himself with fervor, mirroring your satisfaction. The air was thick with appetite, heavy with the scent of forbidden lust and connection. Your cries grew louder, almost like you were urging him on, and he responded in kind, matching your pace with increasing fervor.

The boundary between fantasy and reality danced a tantalizing waltz within him, as though the sleeping pills had crafted a mesmerizing dreamscape. His frenzied strokes built the tension to a fever pitch, and as his name echoed through the night, Mike emerged from his hiding spot. A predatory grin graced his lips, and ragged gasps betrayed the satisfaction coursing through him.

"Mike?!" you stammered, your eyes locked onto the object of your fantasies. The man standing before you proudly displayed his erection, taunting yet gratifying.

"My sweet, sweet angel," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he closed the distance between you. "I knew you wanted me."

His fingertips danced delicately across your features, like an artist carefully sculpting his next piece. "You've been thinking of me, haven't you?" The question hung in the air, a declaration that shattered the façade of secrecy. No longer was he a stranger observing you; instead, you were two souls entangled in a passionate embrace.

"I've waited so long for this moment," Mike confessed, his breath warm against your skin. "To have you all to myself... to hear you call my name like that." Hunger glinted in his eyes, a testament to his craving.

With a sudden, possessive hold, Mike clutched your chin, demanding eye contact. "But now that I have it... I'll never let you go." His words carried a weighted promise, a tether connecting you both in a web of his obsession and yearning.

“Mike what are you—“ you began, but before you could utter another word, Mike silenced you with a gentle kiss, his lips firm yet tender. His tongue slipped past your parted lips, igniting a firestorm of sensations within you.

"Shh," he whispered, breaking away from the kiss just enough to speak. "No more questions. Tonight, we belong to each other, and nothing else matters."

His skilled hands traced every curve and contour of your body, exploring with a purposeful tenderness that left you breathless. "Tell me... do you know how long I've dreamed of this?" he asked, "To have you, all to myself, like this..."

Mike claimed his position above you, his throbbing length pressing insistently against your outer thigh. The mere touch sent ripples of desire coursing through him, and he started to slightly hump.

"You've consumed my every waking thought," Mike’s breath hitched, the weight of his obsession finally surfacing. As months of longing and secrecy culminated in this single moment, Mike's need became palpable. His breath hitched with each ragged exhale, proof of his pent-up desperation.

“I've waited for this, dreamt of this," he added, his voice low and husky.

For a moment, the outside world ceased to exist. You and Mike were entwined in a dance of eagerness and confusion, lost in the euphoria of the moment. The distinction between reality and fantasy didn't matter; it was irrelevant in the face of your connection.

Fixating on the silhouette of your body, he noticed your hand wrapped around the toy. Acting on instinct, Mike adjusted the device gently, synchronizing its rhythm with yours. His arousal surged at the sight, causing a low, guttural groan to escape him.

"You look so good like this, darling," Mike whispered, his warm breath dancing across your skin. "I've wanted this for so long... to touch you, to be with you..."

With delicate precision, Mike brushed your most sensitive spot with his thumb, earning a sharp gasp from you. "I know you feel it too..." he whispered, his words laced with raw truth.

The coolness from his hand traced up your thigh, causing your body to shiver involuntarily.

"Let me pleasure you, the way you deserve," Mike whispered, his fingers moving with slow, calculated strokes. He increased the pressure, his thumb tracing the throbbing between your legs. Drawing closer still, he left a trail of scorching kisses along your jawline, nipping gently at the delicate skin of your neck. His other hand explored your curves, mapping them with meticulous care.

"You're perfect... I want to worship every inch of you," he murmured, his breath hitching as your responses to his touch grew more pronounced.

"Tell me what you need," he urged, his gaze locked firmly on yours. "I'll give you anything you want, just say the word."

"Fuck me, please," you whined, the vibrating toy making it difficult to talk.

Mike's eyes flashed with raw hunger at your impassioned plea. Leaning in, his warm breath hit your skin, and a low, rumbling growl escaped his chest. "As you wish."

In a deliberate movement, he removed the toy from your trembling body. "I'll give you everything you crave."

With a grace born of fervor, Mike positioned himself between your quivering thighs. He gently lifted your legs, granting access to your awaiting entrance. The head of his cock pressed insistently against you, demanding entry.

Savoring the exquisite tension, Mike paused for a fleeting moment before burying himself deeply into you. A rough groan escaped him. The sensation was indescribable – a potent mix of pain and pleasure that stole your breath. His pace was both fierce and controlled, striking a delicate balance between his untamed passion and your comfort.

"I'm going to make you scream my name," he warned. A promise hung heavy in the air, fueling the flames of passion between you both.

Gripping your hips, his fingers bit into your skin as his pace quickened. In a display of brutal possession, he claimed your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing your cries of ecstasy.

"You're mine," he proclaimed, the words laden with ownership. His eyes bore into yours, leaving no doubt about his claim.

you clutched his shirt desperately, searching for something solid amidst the tempest of sensations. "All yours," you whimpered, your body responding to his rhythm, yearning for more.

"All mine..." Mike answered possessively, digging his fingertips into your hips.

Driven by your need and his unquenchable thirst, he sinks into you with unbridled intensity. The sensation was a revelation - an exquisite fit, an intimate conquest. Your bodies merged, creating a symphony of gratification.

"You feel so good around me like you were fucking made just for me," Short of breath, his hips snapping forward in relentless pursuit of bliss. Each stroke brought him closer to the pinnacle, fueled by your mutual hunger.

"Oh god..." you cried out, clutching at him even tighter as the pleasure built within you.

Panting heavily, Mike's voice transformed into a guttural growl as he neared the precipice. "I'm going to fill you up, mark you as mine," he promised menacingly. Bending his head, he grazed your neck with his teeth in a primal claim of possession.

His grip on your hips tightened further, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrust deeper inside you. "Take all of me, baby. Let me claim every part of you," he commanded, his eyes locked onto yours.

With each powerful thrust, both edging closer to orgasm, the tension coiling ever tighter. It was as though no other concerns existed – no consequences, no worries, only the two of them, entangled in a web of unrelenting carnal nature.

You cried, your nails raking down his back, clawing at his slick skin for stability. Your bodies moved as one, driven by an irresistible force that defied logic and reason. The scent of vigor filled the air, mingling with the sound of their labored breaths.

As the final moments stretched out before them, Mike's drive grew frantic, his eyes locked on yours in a hypnotic dance. Your cries grew louder, each one a plea for release, for the sweet relief that lay just beyond reach. And then, with a sudden jolt, you peaked, your body convulsing around him, a triumphant cry escaping your lips.

Mike's eyes widened as he felt your body twitch, his name echoing through the room. Unable to resist any longer, he followed suit, burying himself deep within you as he found his release. His world narrowed to the feel of you surrounding him, the sweet embrace of your warmth.

Yet, his need for you remained insatiable. Collapsing on top of you, he embraced you possessively, your bodies sliding against each other, chasing every tremor of your shared climax.

His movements were ragged and sloppy. "Mine... you're mine!" he whined and groaned your name against your lips, capturing you in a deep, fiery kiss. Overstimulation faded into the background, swallowed by the heady rush of their union.

This was a dream, wasn't it? A dream world where you belonged to him and him alone.

Huffing and puffing, Mike whispered, "I love you," his voice laced with genuine emotion. Nuzzling against your neck, he claimed your lips once more in a searing kiss, his words a confession born of obsession and desire. All those hours spent observing you, planning this moment... they were finally rewarded.

His heart beat wildly against your chest, matching the rhythm of yours. You both lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, lost in the afterglow of devoting love and possession.

…..

Mike woke up to the warm glow of sunlight filtering through an unfamiliar window. Confusion furrowed his brow as he shifted his body to the side, revealing your sleeping form next to him.

Panic welled up inside him, his mind racing to piece together the fragments of last night. Had everything that transpired between you truly happened, or was it all a dream fueled by his overuse of sleeping pills? Deciding there was no time to waste, He carefully extracted himself from the bed, moving with the silence of a thief. Gathering his belongings, he paused to steal one last, longing glance at your peaceful face.

In a sudden burst of impulse, he approached your dresser, quietly opening a drawer and snatching a pair of your underwear. A gleam lit his eyes as he slipped them into his pocket. Then, without another word, he climbed out the window and melted into the morning shadows.

As he disappeared from view, doubt lingered in the air. Was it real or merely a product of his overactive imagination? Regardless, the daylight served as a harsh reminder of the risk he had taken, the line he had crossed.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of the window closing. A coy smile spread across your lips as you watched Mike's retreating form, amusement twinkling in your eyes.

"So predictable, my dear Mike..." you murmured to yourself.

You knew full well that he was oblivious to the security camera discreetly positioned just outside. The unlocked window - an open invitation he simply couldn't resist - had been your doing. And, as expected, he had fallen right into your trap.

Shifting onto your side, you let your fingers trail across the rumpled sheets, still warm from his embrace. A contented sigh escaped you as you nestled back into the pillows. You reveled in the knowledge that Mike was utterly ensnared in your web. And with a devious glint in your eye, you vowed to keep him there, anticipating your next encounter with eager delight.

After all, you had no intention of letting him go.

Thank you so much for reading! should I make a part 3?

Originally it was going to be two parts but if you guys liked it I can make another part (mainly smut). If you have any questions don’t be afraid to ask them since i know the story might be confusing.

If you guys like the story and want to be added to the possible part 3 let me know so I can add you to my taglist!

taglist 🍒: @lile6969 @fatinhadesiners06 @jhutchismyl0verb0y @lefteagleblizzard @freak-accident419 @joshhutchersonsgf @valreanakuroo @jhutch-bf @cassiecasluciluce

#mike schmidt smut #strange fascination mini series #strange fascination #mike schmidt stalker #mike schmidt #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fanfic #mike schmidt headcanons #mike fnaf #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schimdt x reader #mike schimdt smut #mike schimdt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x gn!reader #stalker mike schmidt

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koostarcandy · 1 year

Text

whole damn world

summary: a night where jungkook and you just can't fall asleep. ensue the cutest night you've ever had, including karaoke, chicken, watching modern family and loving on your adorable son.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, fluff and fluff.

wc: 923 words (issa baby 🤕)

a/n: guess who's gonna drop this and then pull a jungkook :]

"you're just fake snoring now, it doesn't even help!"

"i counted 837 sheep, sprayed our pillow mist and even played the dreamy lofi playlist we made and it got over. i have to resort to other measures, sweetheart."

you gasp, sitting up and throwing off the comforter, suddenly running to the living room. jungkook's tired brain short circuits, glancing around the room to see if you running wasn't something he dreamt of.

"baby?" he throws on a tshirt and quickly follows after you, "why are you running? did we miss an episode or something?"

"you said we tried everything but you forgot one thing, silly!" your eyes look akin to those of a detective who's pieced a puzzle they've been chasing to solve, fingers rapidly flying over your keyboard. he watches you in amusement and adoration, settling behind you and wrapping his arms around you. his eyes match yours now when he finds you ordering chicken from his new favourite restaurant.

"damn," jungkook lets out, "soy garlic chicken supremacy, okay?" he says aggressively and cutely, you note, his furrowed eyebrows letting you know that he was finishing the box, even if the moon laid to rest and the sun came up to start its daily duties. you're absentmindedly tracing the clock tattoo on his upper arm, midnight chicken and beer getting you quiet and sentimental.

your human pillow notices the comfortable silence from you, starry eyes following gloria delgado's rant about how the men in her family don't talk to her. "can see and feel you staring, koo." you turn your head to his side, lips lifted up at his adoring attention, eyes still focused on the tv. jungkook removes his gloves, downing the last of his beer. he nuzzles your neck, taking your homey and comforting scent. he pulls you impossibly closer, scattering kisses on your neck, tracing up to your cheeks. your eyes finally fall on his, peeking through his long bangs. its at level 3 now, you remind him proudly everyday, tying tiny braids and squishing his cheeks for your weekly change of wallpaper.

"you wanna play with my hair, don't you?" jungkook reads your mind, smiling when you nod sheepishly, already taking out the silk scrunchie which was holding his hair back in a sprout. he sits in between your legs, settling in comfortably. this is one of your favourite activities, carding your fingers through his soft and silky hair, watching the curls bounce when you brush through them.

you have nothing particular bothering you today, watching him grab the remote and shift to youtube, pulling up the karaoke version of dreamers, "lemme put on a show, baby, just for you," he says sincerely, getting up and letting bam sit on your lap now. he waits for the song to start, laughing when he looks at you looking unbelievably small behind bam.

you both never fail to cheer him on, giving him song requests and watching bam run around him, keeping up with his intense choreography. jungkook dramatically falls on you, giggling at your open mouth, mind still stuck on his sudden cover of unholy. "cat got your tongue, sweetheart?" you punch his arm weakly, "you've had too much to drink tonight, honey," you retort back, laughing at your equally weak attempt to get him back. he straddles your lap, letting himself fall on you like a weighted blanket. and he's your favourite type, made of love and cosy comfort.

you look down on him, the beer chugging finally catching up with him, his droopy eyes catching yours. "hi, my love," he giggles, turning his head to find bam nosing him, "and hello, my bamie!" he sits up slightly so he could shower the pup with kisses, booping his brown nose with his finger.

you watch the interaction with endeared eyes, finding your day incomplete without seeing the both of them, happy and content. you weren't planning on crying tonight, it wasn't in today's plot of your unusual night and you certainly didn't expect tears to fall down like waterfalls down your cheeks when you hear jungkook say, "you both are part of the most important people in my life, never forget that, okay?"

you immediately lift your arm to cover your eyes, sniffling and crying like your husband just returned from war. said husband from war is on you in an instant, holding your face tenderly. "i didn't mean to make you cry," he says, leaning his forehead on yours and willing himself to not cry. "happy tears, koo, we're fine," you reassure him, pulling back to place a kiss on his lips. you push his hair back from his forehead, tying his hair in a loose ponytail. his eyes trace your feature with starry fondness, pulling your neck so you're looking at him again.

jungkook sighs, making you tilt your head to the side in curiosity. he kisses you tenderly, leaving another one on your forehead.

"bamie, house, it's late and i just remembered we have to go to the doc's, so sleepy time, okay?" he says firmly yet gently, giving the doberman a forehead kiss. he doesn't go until he gets his customary forehead pat from you, which you lovingly give him promptly.

"he knocked out quickly," jungkook says quietly, getting up and settling on the couch. he pulls you up so you're on his lap now, nosing his way to your neck and sighing in content. "he got that from me," you say, giggling when you get a playful glare and apologizing half-heartedly, squishing his cheeks in retaliation when he starts tickling you.

jungkook holds your waist, making you go still, "god," he breathes, "how is it that when i look at you, i see the whole damn world?"

pt time: @armys-dna ; @junsai-tree ; @soobhyun ; @shatzkrinslinzki ; @jinsquishes ; @cherishoshi ; @fragmentof-indifference ; @indgio ; @jjkeverlast ; @parkdatjimin ; @yoogijk ; @starlight-1010

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #jungkook oneshot #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts jungkook #bts jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #bts imagine #lessgo i finally wrote smth #pat on my back for writing this #and finishing one semester how did i do that #okay bye <3 #mwah ily

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corrodedcoffins-blog · 4 months

Text

Celebrity crush

jack hughes x youtuber!reader universe

note: i love this one, it's just cute and short!

“Do we have to watch ‘Nowhere Boy’ again?” a very annoyed Jack asked his obviously excited girlfriend, before he continued, “We just watched it last month.”

“Yes. But that was a recreational watch, this is a watch for research.” the girl said, already pulling up the familiar movie, knowing Jack will cave, he always caves for her.

“What research do you have to do?” the younger brother asked from the kitchen, for one of his trips to get food, between playing his video game.

“So glad you asked Luke!” she said, turning her body to face behind her at the boy, her boyfriend rolling his eyes (as he usually does) his head falling into place on the couch cushion behind him, as Y/n continues, “It’s the end of the year, and with the end of the year comes my ‘crush recap’ podcast episode. It’s my favourite time of year!”

“I didn’t know that was why we were watching this! I don’t want to watch a movie were the entire time you just note everytime he does something hot!”

“That is not what I do.”

“Who are you taking notes on in this one.”

“Who do you think?” the girl says, giving her boyfriend an ‘are you serious’ look, as she turns back to the TV abd turning on ‘don’t worry, darling’

“What I mean is Harry Styles and Florence Pugh, so which one?”

“This is good for you, two birds one stone.” Y/n replied, impressed he remembered who was in the movie. But thinking more of it, she did not shut up about it in the months leading up to the movies release (and many months after the release)

“Good.”

Sitting in the living room, Y/n was recording a podcast. Both the boys were at practice, leaving the girl a good time to record.

“She is so hot! Ahhhhhh!!…. I’m sorry, the Julian Baker thing is really getting out of hand. But like I’m in love with her so I don’t know what you want from me.” Y/n mumbled, looking as if she just got caught red-handed. Which she had, she was just too busy to notice.

“Who-Wha-” Jack said, before giving up and walking into their shared room to get ready to shower off the practice.

As Jack walked into the living room, looking for his girlfriend he comes to find her sitting on the couch. Blushing. This was nowhere out of the realm of ordinary for Y/n, but never this much.

“Who has you blushing this much?” the boy asked, coming to look other the older girl’s shoulder, only for him to bot be able to get a look as Y/n quickly turns off her phone. Now this was weird, she never has a problem telling him who her celebrity crush this week is, so why not now?

“It’s nothing.”

“Why won’t you show me.” he questioned, pouting slightly in hopes of getting her to crack.

“‘Cause it’s nothing.” she replies, her eyes following Jack as he rounds the couch.

“Really?” he asks, in a rhetorical sense, bringing his hands to her sides where he knows she’s ticklish. Wary of his hand placement the girl responds with, “Yes. Really.”

“‘Cause I don’t think so!” He announced, bringing one hand to reach for his girlfriends phone, while the other begins to tickle the girls sides.

“No! Jack! Aghh, stop!” Y/n struggles out, laughing and trying to wiggy out of Jack’s grasp. Yet, she’s to late as Jack grabs her phone, standing from the couch and running into the kitchen. Y/n recovering then running after him.

“Me?! I made you blush like that?” the boys yells, rewatching the edit of himself that previously had his girl a blushing mess.

“Shut up! Give me that!” the girl says, back to being said blushing mess, while grabbing her phone from the younger boys hand.

“Aw, am I this weeks celebrity crush?” Jack teases, following Y/n out of the room.

~taglist~

@inejghafawifesblog @dancerbailey3

#jack hughes x girlfriend!reader #jack hughes x youtuber!reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x you #jack hughes #jack hughes x fem!reader #youtuber!reader

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mrsjobarnes · 1 year

Text

What’s the worst thing that can happen?

Summary: Jake and you have been secretly together for 5 months, what is the worst that could happen?

Jake Sersin x Mitchell!Reader

Word count: 1.8 k

Warning - 18+, Angst, Fluff, Illusion to Smut

Likes, Comments and Reblogs are welcome!

Please do not steal my work!

“Hey, baby, I'm pulling into the parking lot now. Are you sure you don’t want to come clean and tell Bradley?”

“Y/n have you lost your mind? Rooster and Maverick would kill me if they found out I was dating you, and I don’t know about you but I’d like to live” you giggled at what Jake had just said.

“Okay but if they ask I’m not lying anymore,” you said.

“Deal, at least if they kill me I’ll have witness” you can’t help but laugh at the stupidity of your boyfriend

“If they see how happy you make me, they can’t hurt you. That’s the perk of being the only girl but in all seriousness, it doesn’t matter what they think, you’re my boyfriend and I love you. That’s all that matters” you quickly say your goodbyes and lock your car. As you walk into the bar you look around for your bean pole of a brother. After you spot him you walk over. “Hey, guys this is Maverick's daughter and my sister Y/n!” Rooster said. Everybody went around introducing themselves when Coyote aks the million-dollar question

“Soooo are you like adopted or something because you look nothing like Maverick,” he asks. Rooster goes to answer when you cut him off.

“Am I adopted Bradley, how could you lie to me?” you say, the group goes dead silent. He rolled his eyes, while Jake bites his lip to keep from laughing. “I’m just kidding, yeah I'm adopted,” you say. Everybody lets out a collective sigh and hardy laugh.

“Long time no see,” said Nat while she gave you a bear hug. “Seriously where have you been? '' she asks.

“Well unlike you guys some of us have regular 9 to 5 jobs,” you say smiling.

“Y/n you and I both know you don’t work a 9 to 5,” Bradley says. It’s true you don’t, you’re an elementary teacher so you work overtime quite often.

“Tis true brother, however winter break is around the corner! Thank god, I love kids but some of these crotch goblins are giving me a run for my money” you say with a serious look. Everyone burst into laughter. Nat offers to buy you a round and you graciously accept. The team goes on to talk about things that you could care less about. All you care about is the joy you see on Jake’s face when he gets to talking about something he is passionate about. You know how your brother feels about Jake. they didn’t have an excellent start to their relationship but he saved, your brother, and dad. They are working on building a relationship, which makes you very happy.

As the night goes on you end up playing pool with Jake, Bob, Nat, and Bradley. You are bending over for your shot when Bradley asks “what the hell happened to your neck and chest Y/N” he asked with a very concerned tone, ready to beat whoever did that to you.

“Oh this, it’s nothing.” you try to play it off but Nat interjects and tells Bradley that they are hickeys. Your face turns beet red as you tried to think of a way to change the conversation. Jake starts panicking because of the conversation you had in the car. “So has anyone seen the new episode of house of dragons?” a tv show you knew Bradley liked.

“You’re not getting out of this Y/n,” Bradley says with a stoic look on his face. He has always been super protective over you. He thought that if you were seeing someone you’d tell him. To be honest he was a little hurt.

“Its, not a big deal, I’m seeing this guy and he got carried away. It’s not my fault I’m irresistible. Plus I’m a grown woman and if you think I look bad you should see him” you say. Jake smile remembering how she got those and why it looks like his abs and back were attacked by a cat. “Now can we move on to why you still have a caterpillar on your lip,” you ask. The group erupts in laughter. Pleased with the fact that he gets to live till tomorrow Jake buys the table a round. While he’s at the bar ordering a girl comes up and strikes up a conversation with him.

“Oh look, hangman found someone already. He was doing so well too, almost 4 months.” Javy said. Everyone lets out a chuckle. You turn around and see Jake talking to a girl. You try hard to not get jealous because you know he is a good guy. Before anyone else could comment they saw Jake shut down the girl’s advancements and head toward the table with their drinks. “Whoah Hangman are you sick,” Javy asks.

Jake furrows his brows “No?” he said questioning why Javy would ask that, then it dawned on him. “Oh I just don’t feel like it tonight,” he said.

“That’s been your excuse a lot recently, are you sure you’re okay” Javy ask genuinely concerned. Jake felt trapped, he could either fess up or keep lying. He looked at you, hoping you could give him an answer. You look at him as if giving an encouraging nod. He quickly musters up some courage.

“I am seeing someone” Jake said with a bashful smile. You smiled as well, although it wasn’t the full truth it was a step in the right direction. The group was silent until Bob congratulated him and said it was about time. The group quickly moved conversations to talk about the most recent football game.

You walked over to Jake and whispered into his ear “Hey do you want to get out of here and come to my place?” He gave an enthusiastic yes and told the group that he was going to head out. 15 minutes later you also bid your goodbyes to the group and raced to your house to meet Jake.

As you pulled into your driveway and parked Jake hopped out of his car and raced to you feverishly kissing you. Once he was done he put his hand out asking for your keys. Once he had them he threw you over his shoulder giving your ass a nice smack which elected a moan from you.

—

You are awoken by the sun streaming through your blinds. You turn over and snuggle into Jake’s chest to hide from the sun’s harsh rays. He brings you closer as if that’s possible. “Good morning darling,” he said with his voice thick with sleep and southern charm, you smile and look up at him.

“Moring,” you say kissing him, he kisses you back like a man starved. You giggle and straddle him and kiss down his neck when you hear the lock to your front door click and a pair of boots stomping around.

“Y/n, are you up? You are late to brunch” your dad shouts

“Hurry up im starving” shouts Bradley stomping up the stairs. You quickly look at your clock and see that it’s 12:30. You are 30 minutes late to brunch.

“Shit shit shit” you whisper as you get off of Jake and try to find a shirt. “Uhh give me a second, i'll be right out” you shout. Whispering profanity and telling Jake to get dressed and hide in the bathroom. It’s too late because Bradley opens the door right as Jake is getting out of bed to put his boxers back on.

“What the fuck” Bradley yells frozen in the doorway, you hear another round of feet coming up the stairs.

“What is it, Bradley,” your dad asks sounding super concerned. Once he appears at the door and lets out a grone. They both look ready to kill At this point, but the shock has worn off of you.

“First of all knock”, you say in a stern tone. “Second of all calm down,lets talk about this when I’m fully dressed” shutting the door in their faces. Looking back a Jake you expect him to freak but he doesn’t he just pulls you in for a kiss.

“It was nice to know you doll,” he says kissing you again. You roll your eyes and put on some PJs. Once you are both dressed you head downstairs into your kitchen.

As soon as you walk in they start asking questions. You hold your hand up and say “First of all stop yelling, Second would you all like coffee?” you walk towards the coffee maker and turn it on. Jake stands at the door looking ready to run if they come after him. As the coffee starts to brew you go about making your cup while Bradley and your dad just stare at you knowing not to mess with you until you’ve had a cup. As soon as you’ve taken your first sip they start bum-barding you with questions. “Okay let me start from the beginning you say” walking over to the table and grabbing Jake along the way, as you all sit down. “Jake and I met at the Hard deck 5 months ago, he was very kind and not like how you all described him,” you say looking at Bradley.

“YOU’VE BEEN DATING FOR 5 MONTHS” Bradley stands and shouts. You give him a look that screams ‘shut the fuck up’ he quietly sits back down and you continue explaining the ins and out of your relationship. Once you are done you all sit in silence while the two men across from you process this new information. “I still don’t like this,” said Bradley. You kick him under the table and glare.

“I don’t care if you like it, it's my life and I can date who I want,” you say looking at Jake with doe eyes. Bradley just glares at Jake

“Does he make you happy,” your dad asks. You shake your head yes. “Then that’s all I can ask for, but I swear Jake if you hurt my baby I will kill you,” he said.

“Yes sir,” Jake said. “She is honestly the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love her and would do anything for her.” He said kissing your forehead. You look up at him and snuggle into him.

“Okay, then that’s all I can ask as a father,” Maverick said sincerely. You smile at your dad and then look at Bradley.

“I'm not happy that you kept this from me, however, if you are happy then I'm happy. Just keep the PDA to a minimum please,” he said with a small smile on his face. “I'm going to text the group that you don’t have an STI,” he said looking at Jake.

“What,” the group said collectively. Bradley explained that when Jake stopped sleeping with a new girl every night, the team got concerned and Bob suggested that he may have gotten an incurable STI. They all burst into laughter.

“Well, why don’t you two get dressed? We can go get food, I'm still hungry and I know Bradley is probably dying” said Maverick, you and Jake agreed and went to get ready.

“See that didn’t go that bad,” you said, handing Jake some clothes.

“Wait till they find out that I’m moving In,” he said, kissing your neck.

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin smut #jake seresin x you #jake hangman x reader #hangman seresin x reader #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #jake hangman x you #jake seresin imagine #top gun #top gun maverick #dagger squad #pete maverick mitchell #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin

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vctrvn-ls · 7 months

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You cuddled into Sharky's sweater, smelling the faint and almost faded signs of the cologne he always used in the morning.

You had a cup of warm tea in your hand, waiting for it to cool down before you could drink it.

It was pouring outside, your windows were covered in a thin layer of fog that built up because you had turned the heater on.

Typical London weather.

Just this morning it was bright and sunny, now it's dull and grey.

You were on the couch, watching a Kdrama called Blind.

Honestly, you were surprised by your own self, considering the fact that you'd always called all the shows "cheesy, corny and annoyingly similar to almost each kdrama that existed".

All of that quickly disappeared after Sharky finally convinced you to watch Blind.

It was a drama, but a thriller and detective story as well. And after getting a taste, you couldn't get enough of the plot. You liked it so much that you happily rewatched the episodes you and Sharky had already seen together, not wanting to watch anything without him.

You sighed, as the last episode, you both had already watched finished, picking up the remote and pausing the tv. You glanced at the window, seeing the sky light up.

Where the hell was he?

You picked up your phone.

10:34

No calls, no texts, no nothing. He said he'd be back late, but he didn't say how late. You wanted to call him, find out if he was ok and make sure he's on his way home.

But, on the other hand, you didn't want to come off as clingy or needy. You'd only been dating for half a year…Didn't really make sense since you moved in together. And you knew that it didn't make sense, but you'd rather not risk anything that might push him away.

Like being too clingy, so with another sigh, you put your phone down and clicked on a different show to kill the time.

Soon, after finishing your tea, you dozed off and fell asleep with Big Mouth playing in the background.

Your eyes opened to the sound of your front door squeaking open, followed by a series of ruffles that sounded like a coat being taken off.

"Baby?" You heard a whisper "You asleep?"

You blinked a few times before sitting up and seeing the hallway of your apartment lit up behind the living room wall.

"Sharky?" You groaned, getting up and making your way to the door.

"Heeyy," you were greeted by a big grin and smiling eyes "Did I wake you up?"

You looked him up and down, seeing a a wet umbrella on the floor and a puddle on the mat beneath Sharky. He was soaked.

You let out a tired chuckle.

"What?" He murmured with a smile, leaning down to take off his boots.

"You look like you've just got out of the pool."

"Have you seen the weather? It's been raining since noon!"

"What was the point of your umbrella then?"

He put his shoes on the rack and looked up at you, shrugging innocently. You shook your head before tiptoeing over to him, making sure not to step on the puddle, and pull him into a lazy hug.

"Oh I missed you too," he snickers, closing his eyes and resting his chin on your head for a couple of seconds. "I'm a bit offended you didn't call." He says as you step back, letting him finish undressing. "It's almost midnight and I've just come home."

You remembered your previous thoughts from today "I didn't wanna..." you paused "I mean I knew you were gonna come home. I didn't wanna like," you shrugged.

"Distract me?" He jokes sarcastically.

"Yeah..."

He saw the uneasy expression on your face.

"You know," Sharky began "I like it when you call me out of nowhere." He pulled off his hoodie.

Your eyes widened hearing his words "Really?"

He smirked "Yeah. It makes me feel wanted."

Wanted? Not annoyed?

"Oh." You felt a small smile tug at the corners of your lips as you realized something. Maybe Sharky didn't mind you being a little...clingy.

"I'm gonna go take a shower." He says, picking up his bag off the floor "We gon watch another episode? Or are you tired-"

"No!" You replied quickly "I really wanna know what happens next."

"Aha, alright. Don't fall asleep though."

"I won't."

That was the liest of the lie lies.

You went back to the couch, and while waiting you stared at the window, droplets of water hypnotizing you as they trickled down the outside of the glass.

"Hey, ba-" Sharky cut himself off as he stepped into the living room, seeing your eyes closed and head rested against a cushion.

"Oh, girl," he whispered, taking the blanket from beside you and covering you with it. He switched off the hallway lights and the tv, before sitting down beside you, closing his eyes and drawing small swirlies on your arm as he dozed off after you.

#beta squad #youtube #sharky #sharky oneshots #sharky x you #sharky imagines #sharky x reader #betasquadfanfic

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dgct2 · 8 days

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MAJOR SPOILERS FOR CRIMSON SKY

When Blackthorne stepped up to be her second as she was about to commit seppuku (suicide) in Shōgun‘s pivotal Episode 9, that was the “moment she realizes that what they share is much deeper than what she had anticipated,” Sawai tells TV Insider. “That’s the gesture that changes everything.”

Seconding her seppuku means striking the fatal blow. Mariko would first stab herself in the gut, and then Blackthorne would decapitate her as the tradition mandates. That he was ready to do this for Mariko was the ultimate symbol of Blackthorne’s evolution from the beginning of the series to now. It’s the highest sign of respect that he can give, as it prioritizes her cultural customs and loyalty over his own desires for her to keep living. And he begged her to keep living.

“He’s taking her over his own religion and beliefs,” Sawai explains of the powerful moment. “A couple scenes before that he’s asking her to keep living for him. And so I think that it just shows that he really, really cares, and that is the most romantic thing that you could ever do for someone that you love.”

They slept together once more after the thwarted seppuku. The energy between them in that moment was a defiant refusal to deny their feelings any longer, initiated by a yearning Blackthorne. But even if Buntaro had died, Sawai doesn’t see a world where Mariko and Blackthorne would have ended up together forever. “I don’t think it was realistic for that to happen,” she admits.

Mariko was never in denial about her love for Blackthorne, even if she hid it deep within herself. “Circumstances are not going to let her be with him, and so you can’t keep chasing something that you’re not going to be,” Sawai says. “It’s not healthy to keep wanting to chase it, but it’s undeniable what they share. That connection is truly just their own thing. It’s very, very intimate.”

Mariko never believed they would end up together, but Sawai reveals that her translator definitely “holds onto” their connection as a comfort in tough times. She doesn’t let her guard down again, however, until circumstances push her to let go of all restraint.

Mariko’s seppuku was stopped at the last moment by Lord Ishido (Takehiro Hira), but he sent a group of assassins to kill her later that night. When she, Blackthorne, Lord Yabushige (Tadanobu Asano), and other women were cornered and outnumbered, Blackthorne desperately tried to protect them from canon fire in a shed, whereas Mariko accepted death. “Anjin-sama, let it come,” she told her lover with tears in her eyes. You could see every ounce of love Mariko had for Blackthorne in this brief, tender moment before the blast killed her. Sawai played that scene as Mariko’s one chance to let all of her love for Blackthorne pour out.

“I remember just looking at Cosmo/Blackthorne and feeling like this is her goodbye. She’s not going to be able to come up to him and hold his hand and say this stuff,” Sawai shares. “It was wishful also to just accept your fate because that’s something that Blackthorne couldn’t do. He’s trying to control everything, and she’s just someone who’s like, we live and we die. We control nothing beyond that. She’s just looking at him like, I’m going to go, but thank you. And I hope you understand.”

#shōgun #shogun fx #shogun #shogunedit #mariko #akechi mariko #lady mariko #anna sawai #john blackthorne #cosmo jarvis #mariko x blackthorne #blackthorne x mariko #john x mariko #my gifs #crimson sky #these scenes are really dark so my colouring is off #spoiler alert #interview

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light-yaers · 8 months

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Take Care: Chapter Eleven

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes

A/N: it's been over a month i have no excuse other than MY BRAIN HURTS and I AM SO TIRED but i am so glad to be out of this rut. get ready for more, and get excited for this incredibly roy centric chapter

Word Count: 7.2k

Chapter Eleven

A month or so later you sat, rigid and tense, in the green room at Sky Studios. Up until then, the fanciest or most intense place you’d ever visited was that of AFC Richmond, the Dogtrack, but these studios kicked Nelson Road out of the fucking stadium. The only way you could describe it was sterile. Like a hospital, or some morbid place where people came to sit and be quiet, except you weren’t here for either of those things.

You were here to see Roy, and that was the most intense part of it all.

In the green room was a screen with a live relay from the stage, where you saw Roy, Jeff and Chris sitting at their familiar, unusually large, commentary table. They were taping some bits for an upcoming episode of Soccer Saturday, the parts where they weren’t required to be there live and in person.

The breath hitched in your throat whenever Roy appeared on screen. It was still entirely new and off-putting, yet the internet had blown up when they’d seen the ex-Captain on the show. Finally, Roy Kent was back in the football world. Not playing, or coaching, but commentating. It was a good alternative, and he rocked it during the show, even despite his way with words and his… not entirely enthused demeanour. To anyone that didn’t know Roy, they’d probably think him crude and rude and blunt, all the ways he’d been described in the past in the press. To those that knew Roy inside and out, watching him on TV was like a breath of fresh air. Those closest to him had been saying the same thing for years– I could listen to you talk for hours and not get bored.

You were no different, and in fact, had known Roy for over a year now. It was crazy how time flies, wasn’t it?

When he’d texted you an invite to the studios, you’d said yes immediately. Your time with Roy was short enough already, but now that he’d landed the gig his time was being soaked up more and more. You found yourself now, sitting at your desk at Pluto Press, just thinking about when you’d next see him. Any opportunity that arose you took by the fucking balls, and that’s exactly what went down when he’d asked you to the studios.

Right guys, that’s a wrap for today. See you at the weekend.

The show director said over the live screen, and you watched intently as Roy and his co-hosts had their microphone packs removed. The sound switched off immediately, but Chris approached Roy and stuck out his hand. The two legends shook hands quickly, and you noticed the smallest of smiles appear on Roy’s face as they pulled away.

It made you smile back at them, bashfully, to yourself. There was something warming about seeing Roy interact with others like this. It was rare to catch him in a good mood at any of his prior jobs– which you knew very well from working alongside him at the Dogtrack– but seeing him enjoy his time, become buddy-buddy with Chris fucking Kamara, and all the rest made you exceptionally happy.

You were proud of his successes, and understood his plunders. You wanted to feel that he felt the same about you in return, but you’d started this thing where you tried not to think about him like that. Assumptively, or overly-affectionately, or anything that reminded your heart of how you really felt about the man on the screen before you. It was just like you’d said to Keeley and Rebecca– you would never mention it, never tell him, and you were okay with that.

You were okay with that.

You jumped suddenly when the door to the green room burst open. A production assistant entered, headset donned and clipboard in his hands, shoved into his chest like he’d die without it. “Roy Kent’s plus one?” he asked.

You looked around the empty room. You were the only one in there, but the assistant hadn’t even met your eye yet. You cleared your throat and raised your hand in the air, like a schoolgirl in class. The production assistant finally met your eye, and then clicked at you abruptly.

“You– right. Come on, you’re wanted on set,” he said.

You wasted no time standing up and pushing past him at the door, heart in your throat. The two of you navigated the backstage corridors of the studio, until you finally emerged on the set of Soccer Saturday. The lights were bright, too bright, and exceptionally warm to stand beneath. Camera operators, gaffers and runners still milled about the set, but you blocked them out as you went to step onto the stage.

“Can I?” you asked the production assistant from earlier. He glanced up and went to object, opening his mouth wide, but stopped as soon as a hand descended on his shoulder.

“‘Course you can,” Roy said, peering down at the production assistant. “Isn’t that right, Jacob?”

Jacob nodded, no doubt sweating profusely as Roy hoarded himself over the skinny kid. He was definitely younger than you by a number of years, probably fresh out of university. “Y-yes, of course, Roy.”

You looked away, not wanting to laugh so meanly at the ordeal. It was just so Roy of him to intimidate crew at the studios, probably just from standing and doing nothing. It made your chest compress painfully, as you forced yourself away from the all-encompassing nostalgia of being around him all the time before, at the Dogtrack, and seeing it in person a whole lot more.

God, you thought you needed a fucking lobotomy with how much you still clung onto the past. It only made you feel more childish, more pathetic, with every flashback that hit your brain and made you swallow away the want to cry.

You stepped onto the stage a bit more, and looked out towards the several cameras. They all pointed in your direction, camera one and two and three, and however many more. “Jesus fucking Christ,” you muttered, scoffing at it all as Roy joined you on stage. “This is intense.”

“I never know how to react when I realise people can see my beard in 4K,” Roy said, as a small smile curled onto his face. He peered down at you softly, his gaze flicking across your features as you looked around the set curiously. “It’s good to see you.” You turned to him and looked up, smiling at him bashfully.

This was just it– those little moments where you’d happily melt into a puddle on the ground beneath him, but you couldn’t.

You coughed, laughing awkwardly, before you gently poked him in the chest. “You too,” you said, trying to keep things as playful as possible. Roy perked his brow at you questioningly, amused, but didn’t comment. Instead, he watched you panic subtly as you continued around the set, until you’d rounded the desk to his chair.

“May I?” you asked.

Roy bowed at you smally. “Be my fucking guest.”

You sat down in his chair slowly, and leaned your elbows on the desk before you. You shuffled your shoulders, and puffed out your chest. “Oh, I could get used to this,” you said, feeling powerful. Roy growled at you gently. “Come on, sit in Jeff’s chair.”

If Roy wanted to object in any way, he didn’t. He obediently made his way around the desk and sat in Jeff Stelling’s chair, all the while looking at you like you were gold. You sucked in a deep breath and cleared your throat. “So, Jeff– what did you make of AFC Richmond’s last game? When will these fucking tied games end, hm?” you said, putting on your most gravelly voice possible in an attempt to imitate Roy.

He sighed, but he still didn’t object. A small smile was still curled on his lips, and it made your gut coil. He leaned forward, and adopted Jeff’s stance. “Well, Roy,” he started, taking on a much cheerier voice than his own. It was off-putting. “Richmond has been hit hard, but not as hard as their mascot Earl was a few months ago. Poor fuck–” He coughed, and recomposed himself. “Poor dog.”

“Well fucking said, Jeff,” you replied, but burst into giggles as soon as you did. “What do you reckon is the reason for their tie records on top of it, though? And what about that prick, Jamie fucking Tartt, sculking around the club after his stint in the reality TV game?”

Roy furrowed his brows at you quizzically. “Jamie fucking Tartt is trying to get signed to Richmond again?” he said, his normal voice cutting through.

You waved him off. “I’ll tell you later. Keep going,” you said quickly, bringing it back to the game.

Roy growled, and went back to his Jeff impression. “Well, it could be a number of things, Roy.” You smiled to yourself, elated just to be around him again. “Your retirement, for starters, has left the team utterly abandoned and in the dust.”

You perked your brow at him.“I’m not sure that’s entirely true, really–”

“They’re devastated by the loss,” Roy cut you off again, and you burst out a giggle. Roy swallowed away his amusement then, as he met your eye. “That, and the loss of their social placement was definitely a hard pill to swallow.” You froze as the words fell from his mouth. “I– inside sources– have told the press about how hard it’s been after she left. Her fanclub made up of Isaac McAdoo, Colin Hughes and Sam Obisanya haven’t been the same since her placement ended.”

You swallowed painfully, as Roy’s gaze stayed stuck on your own for a second too long. Neither of you looked away, but your heart swelled to twice the size beneath your ribcage. This fucking sucked– cutting yourself off from feeling all this– fucking sucked. But, you felt it was necessary. You didn’t want to lose Roy again– couldn’t– and this would ensure he stuck around.

Still, as he looked at you with a softness reserved only for people he truly gave a shit about, you couldn’t help but give in just this once.

You dropped the act, and reverted your voice to your own. “I seem to remember there being more people in the fanclub,” you said. “Who else hasn’t been the same, hm?”

Roy leaned back in his chair, and crossed his legs. You thought he’d tense up, or lean forward, but you knew that position was a sign that he was truly comfortable. Meanwhile, you were trying to hide the fact your fingers were shaking.

“I can think of one more.” He shrugged. “Want a name?”

“No,” you said instantly, abruptly, taking back everything you’d put out before. You recomposed yourself, and smiled as normally as you could. “I think I already have a good guess.”

Roy opened his mouth and sucked in a breath, before he nodded at you in understanding. It felt like a situation similar to that first night, after the charity ball, when you’d offered another time. Roy could easily count how many times you’d held yourself back from him. He didn’t know what to say to reassure you that this– you and him– was okay. He wasn’t one for being mushy, but he figured there was a reason as to why you hadn’t made it clear yet.

So, he stayed put. He waited, and he wondered if you ever would, and if you never did– then that would be that. It wasn’t worth blurting out his feelings in a, no doubt, blunt and plain way if it meant risking this all. Seeing you, being around you, taking it on the chin everytime you scolded him when he deserved it.

You were one of the only people out there that could tell him to fuck off. He liked it that way.

As the two of you drove home, you stared out the window on the passenger side. Being around Roy always made you feel warm, but since he’d become a pundit, things had felt heavier. Thicker, tenser, like you’d be able to cut the atmosphere between you with a plastic butter knife. Maybe it was due to you setting yourself invisible boundaries, but something still made your stomach flip whenever he indulged.

Innately, you told yourself to shake it off. If things stayed as they were with you both meant nothing would change, but you admitting your feelings to him would. It was still out of the question, but you had to be stronger around him. You sucked in a breath, and it cemented things in your brain. No longer would you crumble at his warm remarks, his soft stares, his playful behaviour. These were just things that Roy did with you, and hell, you enjoyed it platonically just as much as you would romantically– so what did it matter?

Roy pulled up outside your building, and you clicked off your seatbelt. You didn’t get out of the car, however, and placed your hands in your lap instead. “Thanks for–”

“What are you doing next Wednesday?” Roy cut over you. Your brain short circuited.

“Uh– finish work at five, like normal. Why?”

“I’ve got Phoebe that night. We were going to grab a chinese and watch Ice Age. You in?”

You smiled to oblivion. “I’d love to. Why Ice Age though?”

“Because she’s fucking seven, and I’m unashamed to say that film makes me cry every time.”

You scoffed abruptly, surprised. “Really?”

“Really,” Roy said seriously. “That baby is still fucking ugly though.” You laughed, and nodded in agreement. Roy tapped the steering wheel, expelling happy energy. He growled in approval. “Fruit Shoot pre drinks are at six, so you better not be late.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you said, before you opened your door and got out of the car. Roy rolled the window down when you hopped up on the pavement on his side, and stuck his elbow out like a trucker.

“See you later,” he said, though not with his usual hostility and unbothered attitude. This was a see you later that had feeling behind it.

You swallowed bashfully. “See you.”

On Monday, Rebecca met you at Pluto Press. She strolled through the building with purpose, shoes clicking intently on the hardwood floors, until she loomed over your desk fiercely. “I’m here to see the best writer in the building,” she said.

You peered up at her and smiled profusely, before you shot up and gave her a colossal hug. “God, I’ve fucking missed you.”

“Me too, darling,” she said, before pulling away. She kept her hands on your shoulders for good measure. “Come on. Pasta and wine won’t eat and drink itself.”

You liked getting dinner with Rebecca alone. She was an important figure to you, despite the previous way she’d felt about the club and people like you in general. She twisted her arm around your own as the two of you made your way out of Pluto Press, and you had to admit that you felt confident when in stride next to Rebecca. She was well-known, a prominent businesswoman, a strong person, and you were glad to have her in your life.

Especially, when she had gossip to spill.

“He’s called John. He treats me nice. He’s good looking and intelligent and everything good, but…”

“But?” you questioned, feeling giddy during girl talk.

“Well, after Rupert and all the other bozos I’ve been with, I want to make sure he is everything I think he is.”

“Ah, you want your friends’ approval, is that it?”

Rebecca picked up her wine glass. “Absolutely, I do.” She sipped at the contents, before placing the glass back on the table. “I had an idea of a double date with you and Keeley pretending to be girlfriends.”

You scoffed abruptly. “We wouldn’t even need to pretend that much. I love her and she loves me.”

“Exactly my thoughts! But, Keeley is away in fucking Edinburgh this weekend, so that’s a no go.”

You thought through your options. Who could you bring as a possible fake date to this double date situation if it wasn’t Keeley? You snapped your fingers. “Oh, I know— I could bring Ted!”

Rebecca looked like you’d run over a child with Roy’s Jeep. “Absolutely fucking not.”

You recoiled. “Oh, come on. Who the fuck else then?”

“Just bring Roy!” Rebecca exclaimed. Your cheeks warmed intensely.

“Oh, fuck off,” you spat out, bringing your wine glass to your lips and trying to ignore the way your gut had lurched.

Rebecca leaned towards you, a mischievous smile on her face. “Just imagine it. You and Roy already look and act like a fucking couple sometimes–” You swallowed your wine abruptly.

“No, we do not—”

“Yes, you do!” Rebecca said strongly. “But push that aside for just a moment, and this could be a good experiment.”

You placed your glass down strongly, curiously. “Go on.”

“If he feels for you the way you feel for him, then this is a good way to show it. Might give you both some clarity, because Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t take this back and forth much longer.”

Your defences were on high. “There is no back and forth—”

“Yes, there is! When are you going to grab that fucking hairy man and just kiss him!”

“Rebecca!” you exclaimed. There was subtle anger in both of your voices, but it was drowned out by the extreme hilarity of the entire situation.

Despite your eyes being wide and your brows being perked wildly, both you and Rebecca had small smiles plastered on your faces that only meant one thing— I love you and I love this. She understood you, and understood your concerns and feelings and all the like, but that didn’t stop her from wanting you to get out and emerge from this funk.

“Just… think about it?” she suggested.

You smiled at her warmly. “This is Roy we’re talking about. He probably wouldn’t even do it.”

“That’s a possibility, for sure. But it’s still worth asking, isn’t it?”

You tapped your wine glass thoughtfully, before you nodded strongly. “You’re right. I’ll ask him, and if it means we can help you, then it’s worth the emotional embarrassment.”

Rebecca smiled back at you. “And who knows?” she said, with a twinkle in her eye. “It might be fun.”

You raced home from work on Wednesday, and knocked on Roy’s door quickly, a bit after six in the evening. You were late for Fruit Shoot pre drinks, but the tube was to blame. He opened the door strongly and laid a blunt stare in your face.

“You’re late,” he said.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“The Fruit Shoots are almost gone,” he said, smiling just a little.

“Then let me in quickly so I can fucking have one!” you exclaimed playfully. Roy let you in, and you slipped off your shoes in record time.

Roy’s house was so familiar to you now. The atmosphere inside made you feel safe and comfortable, and always brought you back to past times when you’d been inside or passing by his road. He strolled in toe next to you as you made your way to the kitchen. There were a number of Fruit Shoots and some snacks on the island as you entered.

“Phoebe!” Roy called as you grabbed a drink, and the pitter patter of feet erupted from the living room and around the corner.

When Phoebe bound towards her uncle you could hardly contain how happy you felt. She was someone special to him, really special, and he’d chosen you to meet her. That must’ve meant you’d done something right, surely?

Phoebe stopped before her uncle, but peered at you in curiosity. “What is it, Uncle Roy?”

“I want you to meet someone,” he said, before the two turned back to you. He placed his hand on her head affectionately, before he met your eye. “Phoebe, this is my friend—”

“Are you the one that wrote that story about my Uncle Roy?” Phoebe cut over him, and you scoffed abruptly from how confident she was at only seven years old.

You leaned down slightly. “Yes, I am. Has your Uncle Roy talked about me before?”

“All the time!” Phoebe exclaimed, and you peered up at him playfully. Roy growled, embarrassed at his niece spilling all his secrets. “He told me that you wrote a story about him in the newspaper,” she said.

“I did. Lots of people read it.”

“He also told me that he’s annoyed at you because you’re the only person that can tell him when he’s done something bad,” she said it so surely that it caught you off-guard. You scoffed as you straightened out, and shot a playful look at Roy.

He looked thoroughly embarrassed. His jaw was clenched, and his shoulders were square, and you knew he wanted to yell or hide away in that moment. It only made you laugh even harder, as a few giggles trickled from your mouth.

“I’m definitely not the only person who tells him off, but I might be the only one he listens to about it,” you said. “Come on, what else has he said about me?” you urged playfully.

Roy stepped between you and Phoebe. “That’s fucking enough.”

Phoebe gasped suddenly, and your eyes widened. “That’s a bad word, Uncle Roy!”

“Yeah, sorry,” he said, as if he’d apologised for the same thing a thousand times. He probably had.

“You owe the swear jar a pound!” Phoebe pointed at Roy threateningly, chastising him.

Roy messed up her bright blonde hair affectionately. “Add it to the rest of the bill.”

After a huge chinese dinner, where you all opened fortune cookies and laughed at the fact Roy got life will get better, just wait in his own, the three of you sat in the living room. Phoebe and you sat on the plush rug in front of the sofa, while Roy took the sofa. He crossed his arms for the duration of Ice Age, staying quiet as you and Phoebe bonded over how funny Sid the sloth was.

When the baby came on screen, you grimaced immediately. You’d forgotten just how ugly it was. Roy was absolutely right. You twisted yourself around to meet his eye, and furrowed your brows. “You’re right. It’s still so ugly.”

“Told you,” he said, before you turned back around to the TV. Phoebe jumped up onto your lap as you did, and you snuggled her close to your chest as the film continued.

Behind you, Roy was twitching. Despite only seeing the tops of your heads, and the shake of your shoulders when you laughed, there was something brewing within him when seeing you with his niece. He didn’t often introduce people he knew to her, because of the impact it would have on her when those people could inevitably leave. It had happened with her piece of shit father, and from that moment, Roy had started involving himself even more– just to give his sister a break, just because he loved his family so fucking much.

Seeing you with her, getting on so well in this way, made him swallow away his deepest wants. In a perfect world, he would have made his way down beside you both on the floor. You would have leaned into him, sharing the weight of the child in your lap, and he would have draped his arm over your shoulder and held you close– but no.

Roy inhaled a laboured breath, and forced himself to focus on the screen for the rest of the film; knuckles white, body tensed, trying and failing not to feel everything.

Phoebe was fast asleep by the time the credits rolled. You held her in your arms as Roy got up and switched off the TV, before turning back to you both. You glanced down at Phoebe’s dreaming face as you frowned awkwardly. Roy’s expression was somewhere between stoic and glowing. His jaw clenched when you peered up at him in subtle pleading.

“What do I do?” you whispered.

“Fuck all. You’re stuck like that until she wakes up,” he replied, crossing his arms. You gulped away your nerves, looking back at Phoebe in your arms. Roy took his opportunity to smile without you seeing.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you whispered harshly, but you inwardly accepted your fate. You peered back at Roy, and his face flattened. “So, are you just going to stand there?” He shrugged. “Roy!” you whispered strongly.

That was enough for him to finally crumble. His hard expression faltered and was replaced with the smallest of smiles. He dropped his arms to his sides as he started towards you. “I’m fucking kidding,” he whispered deeply, as he knelt before you. “I’ve got her.”

You would have looked away as Roy picked up his niece if you had the chance. He was soft, and gentle, as he slotted his hands beneath her and hoisted her from your lap easily. He draped her over his shoulder with such care, as her cheek squished sleepily against his shoulder. His hand found her back and stayed there warmly.

“I’ll tuck her in,” he said, before making his way out of the room and up the stairs.

You stayed put after he left, cleaning up the snacks from the coffee table and straightening out the sofa cushions just from habit. You chucked away empty crisp packets and yoghurt pots, and threw some finished Fruit Shoot bottles in the recycling bin. It was comforting as you familiarly navigated all the cupboards and drawers in Roy’s kitchen. You knew your way around his house very well, and often found yourself jealous of the space. It’s not that you didn’t like your apartment– of course, you did– but Roy’s house was proper.

It was funny. Without trying at all, you were able to slot yourself alongside Roy here. Living alongside each other, cooking dinners, drinking beers on his back patio, watching shitty movies on the sofa. You slammed another Fruit Shoot bottle in the recycling as a way to snap yourself out of it. No good came from imagining more between you and Roy, especially after everything that had already occurred.

You let out an angry huff at yourself as you leant upon the kitchen island, looking out towards the dining table. You wracked your fingers through your hair, as your eyes settled upon his bookshelf in all its glory. You enjoyed looking at it, no matter how many times you’d already scoured the overflowing shelves. Squinting, you gently approached the dining table as your eye hit upon something new; something that hadn’t been there previously.

On the middle shelf, right between cards from Phoebe and Roy’s sister, your article had been framed and placed for all to see. At the top, next to the title, was that classic picture of Roy from the first game of football you’d ever seen. His foot was on the ball, his stare hard, his hair trimmed in that robotic way that he’d used to do.

You couldn’t believe he’d kept it, and framed it, and put it up– all of it. It made your heart thump incessantly in your chest. It made the logical side of your brain completely disappear; the side that told you not to jump, that held you back, that told you not to complicate things.

“You noticed it, hm?” Roy said suddenly, appearing in the kitchen as you stayed glued in front of the dining table.

You turned to him, wide-eyed and full of love. “You kept it?”

“‘Course I did,” he said, walking towards you slowly. “It was your big break, and the nicest thing ever fucking written about me. Why wouldn’t I keep it?”

“I don’t know, I just–” you started, but chose to stop part way through. You settled, and smiled. “It’s nice that you did.”

Roy nodded, and growled subtly. Silence trickled over you both, as the obvious tension between you was cemented even further. This always happened when you were alone, together, looking at one another like you were memorising the lines on each other’s faces.

“Fancy a drink?” Roy asked coarsely. He had to cough slightly to stop his voice from breaking.

You breathed out deeply. “Yes. Please. Yes please.” You found your voice again, and the tension dissipated slightly as he headed towards the fridge.

You sunk into one of the chairs at the dining table, watching closely as Roy opened the fridge and grabbed two green bottles of beer. It was nice that you didn’t have to say what it was you wanted, didn’t have to even direct, he just knew. He knew you, and you knew him just as well. He popped the tops off both bottles, before sitting down opposite you. He slid you a beer, and your fingers touched his own as he made the pass. It went unsaid, and you ignored your heart in your chest.

The two of you sipped at your drinks in unison, transcending into a different realm of awkward (and) or sexual tension. It was always this way, this feeling. You’d grown so used to it from being so exposed to being watched, analysed, affectionately stared at, by Roy’s gaze, that you didn’t bat an eye when you looked at him– only to find him already staring at you.

You squinted at him playfully. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said.

You raised your drink to your lips. “Fine.” You drank, and let his lingering eyes watch as you gulped back more beer. As you placed your bottle down, you smiled. “Thank you for letting me meet Phoebe.”

“It was about time,” he said, leaning forward. “Like she said– I apparently don’t shut the fuck up about you.” He smiled smally, before the two of your drank in unison, just to fill the happy silence.

You thought of Rebecca then. Of her strong jaw and broad shoulders and confident strides. If it’d been her, she would have taken matters into her own hands a long time ago. Before Roy’s retirement, before the article, she would have launched herself into this all strongly from the moment he’d invited you for a drink after the charity ball.

As Rebecca’s gorgeous face shone behind your eyelids, you remebered your lunch. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered suddenly, as you recalled her double date situation.

“What?” Roy questioned.

“Well,” you started. You leaned forward to bridge the gap between you, and innately psyched yourself up to broach this idea to him. You couldn’t believe what you were about to ask of him. “Rebecca is seeing a man– John.”

“John,” Roy repeated.

“And, well,” you said, stalling for time. You grimaced, just for lack of how to even get it all out. “She… well, she–”

“Are you having a fucking stroke or something?” Roy asked, before he slammed his hand over your forehead abruptly, searching for a fever.

You burst out laughing as soon as he did, and swatted away his fingers. “Jesus Christ, I’m fine!” you exclaimed.

Roy removed his hand from your head. “Then get to the fucking point!”

“Okay!” you exclaimed, getting worked up. “Rebecca is seeing this man, and she wants her friends’ approval to be sure he’s not a fucking weirdo.” You sucked in a deep breath, and reworded your entire question until it wasn’t one anymore. “You’re going to pretend to be my partner, so we can judge if this guy is a psycho or not.” After you blurted it out, you half expected Roy to scoff. Surely he wouldn’t say yes, surely he would protest, and whine, and sulk, and everything else that his thirty-six year old arse would do when forced into this kind of situation.

Instead, he stayed still. He stayed calm, and his express didn’t falter. “When is it?” Roy asked.

“This weekend.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” You stared at him, utterly boggled.

Roy furrowed his brows, as if saying yes was the most obvious answer of all. “Who else would you fucking take? Fucking Ted?”

You chose not to tell him of your first choice, or of Rebecca’s obvious dislike of the idea. You leaned back in your chair and took a surprised gulp of beer, before clutching the bottle to your chest. “I can’t wrap my head around why you’re fine about this,” you said honestly. “Are you having a fucking stroke?”

Quickly, you reached your hand out and laid it upon Roy’s forehead, mimicking his earlier behaviour. You thought he’d push you off, or laugh, or copy the way you reacted. When he gently leant into your touch, you froze.

“I feel just fine,” he said lowly, his stare glued on yours. Gently, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist, and you dropped your palm from his head. Quickly, Roy shuffled his hand so his thumb hit your pulse point. “Are you alright?”

You felt your heart rate accelerate, which meant Roy felt it, too.

Quickly, you pried your hand out of his grasp, but not before your fingers swiped over each other’s. You moved your hand to your lap, just to avoid staring at it as your mind raced.

“I’m fine,” you said, despite the fact it was an obvious lie. That’s when Roy’s lips curled into a small smile. “But– great. This is great.” You tried to redirect the conversation to the double date, tried to keep things professional. “Rebecca gets the answers she wants, we get a free meal, and I get to dress in something other than the same five outfits I wear at work every week… but,” you said, tapping your glass anxiously. “We have to pretend to be a couple.”

Roy shrugged. “We’ll live.” He wasn’t ready to admit to you that he knew it would be easy. Maybe you might make it harder, but if all Roy had to do to be convincing was occasionally hold your hand, or sit close to you, or bicker like an old married couple, then he was already there.

You squinted at him, still confused. “You’re seriously okay with this?”

Roy shrugged again, but it was only with the sole intention to have you roll your eyes at him. He succeeded.

As Saturday approached, it properly dawned on you what was about to happen. You and Roy had to pretend to be together, while simultaneously navigating not just Rebecca, but her newest man, as well. You found yourself wishing that Keeley wasn’t away, but that definitely would have been the easy way out.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go on a fake double date Roy fucking Kent– that in itself was something that (ashamedly so) made you so fucking excited that it was miracle you’d been able to contain it for the remaining days before the weekend. It wasn’t about the possible awkwardness that you could both feel at having to be noticeably affectionate, or the fumbling fingers that you would both have during those first few tries.

It was about the aftermath.

It was about the possible shift that could happen as a result of this little charade. It was about the marathon you were already running to keep at bay every single feeling you had for Roy (and the ones he held for you that you had no clue about). It was about being able to leave that table at that restaurant still knowing that everything would be normal and unchanged and not fucking complicated.

That’s what you focused on for the rest of the week, and when Saturday morning turned to afternoon, and when that afternoon turned to early evening, you felt stronger. As you got ready to go into this shitstorm, you were determined not to let all hell break loose.

Just down the road, Roy pulled a black t-shirt over his head. He paired it with black jeans, the usual, but opted to spray his most expensive cologne over the top— not the usual. It was true that he was excited about this. Just the opportunity to make you blush was enough to make him smile, and after he felt the upbeat pitter patter of your pulse he was beginning to doubt that you harboured no romantic feelings for him.

Either way, no matter the outcome, he was going to grab hold of this situation by the throat. It was funny; being given the opportunity to be close to you, to imagine being together, and all the rest; but even just being allowed to pretend and put on a show for one evening made him feel satisfied.

Innately, though, he told himself not to go overboard. As much as your pulse had betrayed you, he wasn’t about to put you in an uncomfortable situation for the sake of it. Roy was almost a decade older than you, he harboured experience galore— what with being an ex-star footballer— but he still knew you weren’t the time to fuck around.

He glanced at his watch; he had a little under an hour before he was due to pick you up. This evening was certainly going to be one he’d remember for a while, even if he ended up wanting to fucking forget all about it by the end.

Roy’s Jeep pulled up outside your flat. You heard it from your living room window, and quickly slung a small bag over your shoulder before leaving through your door. Roy cut off the engine before he jumped from the driver’s seat. As he rounded his car, the squeak of your building door sounded. He peered up, and what met his gaze was only the first step of his night fully starting.

As you shut the door behind you, your dress blew up to just past your knees. Compared with the charity ball, you’d opted to wear a jacket over it in this cold, which almost made Roy laugh to himself. You descended the steps as he took a relaxed stance by the passenger side door, and when you finally glanced his way, he was already looking at you. This was a running theme, you thought, catching Roy’s eye, only to find him already looking at you gently.

“Hey,” you said, slightly breathlessly from the cold but also from him. You trickled your gaze over his body. He wore nothing different than normal, his usual combo of black on black, but this time it felt different. It was oddly reminiscent of the night of the charity ball, a year ago now, but with a slight twist.

You felt older, you knew each other better, and that unspoken tension hadn’t cropped up until later that fateful night. Now, everything was different. But in the best way.

“Hey,” Roy said lowly, his voice gravelly. “Ready to go?”

You nodded sweetly, smiling at him as you stood face to face. You inhaled, and as you did, his cologne hit your nose. You had to ignore how fucking good he smelled, even more so when you both clambered into the car.

A few minutes into the journey, Roy cleared his throat. “So,” he started, and you sensed some trepidation in his tone that made you look at him slyly. “This double date thing… how far are we taking it?”

Abruptly, you choked on your own spit. You coughed loudly and turned towards the window, until the tickle in your throat finally ceased. “What?” you croaked, panicking. Roy smiled to himself quickly, before he clenched his jaw forcefully.

“This guy, Jim, or whatever. He thinks we’re an item, right?” Roy continued.

You furrowed your brows at him curiously. “Yes.”

“So, how far are we taking this fake relationship shit?” Roy asked again.

Your heart plummeted into your stomach. “I don’t fucking know.” You tried to act casual and unbothered. It was fucking difficult. “Far enough for it to be believable, I guess.”

“So,” Roy said. “Can I hold your hand?”

You swallowed. “Yeah, obviously.” You kept your eyes ahead of you, but could feel Roy’s stare hit your profile every few seconds, only when he wasn’t looking at the road.

“Okay,” he said. “Can I touch your waist, or– I don’t know– your thigh under the table, or some shit?” Roy attempted to lace stoicism within his words. He didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, but he also wanted to know what he could and couldn’t do. Just for clarity, just so you were on the same page.

You glanced out the window, looking away from him. You didn’t want him to see the warmth that had appeared on your cheeks. It was a miracle he couldn’t hear the butterfly wings that ravaged your stomach. “I don’t see why not.”

“Alright, fine,” Roy said, clearing his throat afterwards. His knuckles had turned white on the steering wheel.

You sucked in a deep breath, but all it did was remind you of his cologne. “Anything else?” you asked assumptively, tensing yourself involuntarily.

Roy stopped the car at a red light. “Yeah,” he said sharply, turning to you strongly. You turned to look at him, too, catching his eye with as much confidence you could muster. “Can I kiss you?”

You stopped breathing. The urge to look at Roy’s lips was unavoidable. You wanted to stay calm, to stay cool, to stay composed, so your initially thought answer of yes, God, yes had to be contained on this occasion. You’d spent three days internally preparing yourself for this, but as soon as Roy started asking his questions your walls practically crumbled. His prying had a feeling behind it, intent, and you knew Roy well enough by now to know that he wouldn’t ask these things lightly. That was the first hurdle to jump over.

The next– the way he was looking at you made you want to abandon your evening with Rebecca and John altogether. If it were up to you, you’d tell him to pull over the car on any desolate street he could find, just so you could finally give in to this silly crush. It was obvious this wasn’t just you anymore, that this small unspoken thing had developed further inside both of you, until it had left you in this fucking situation.

A fake date, with real feelings. What a fucking nightmare.

“I–” you started, but couldn’t get another word out as Roy’s gaze darted to your lips and back.

Oh, the fucking bastard. He was good, really good, and he knew it, too. Was this what he did with the Spice Girls? Because it was fucking working. It was enough to make you want to spill everything, to not hold back any longer.

“Roy.” You breathed out.

He looked at you so softly. “Yeah?” he said lowly.

“I need to tell you something–”

The shrill boom of a car horn from behind made you gasp. Roy twisted himself abruptly to the windshield, and the light that once was red was now green again. The car honked its horn once more, and Roy let out a growl. “I’m going, you fucking twat!” he yelled, before smashing his foot down on the accelerator.

And just like that, the conversation had to take another back seat. You still had parts to play, and hearts to bear, and lots and lots of wine to fucking drink.

CHAPTER TWELVE

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