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reiderwriter · 8 months

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The Us That Could Have Been

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader

Requested: yes - role reversal of the player!Spencer fic I posted here!

W/C: 5.7k

Summary: They say if you want to get over one man, you have to get under another. Spencer isn't so sure why he dislikes the idea of you doing that quite so much.

Warnings: Mentions of Maeve, spoilers for S8, mentions of minor character deaths, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, angst.

A/N: I'm not going to apologise for this one... Have fun.

Find the rest of my masterlist here.

If you were a genius, you’d know that it took you three hours, twenty-three minutes, and six seconds to fall in love with Spencer Reid. If you were a genius, you’d also know that it took him five years, seven months, twenty-seven days, and two hours to the second for him to break your heart. The thing you were learning about geniuses though, is that they were the most oblivious people on the planet.

Her name was Maeve, he had told all of you. And he needed your help to save her because he was in love with her. And of course, you went along with it, you tried your best even while your heart was cracked in two because at this point, you couldn’t stand the desperation on his face. The day he told you about her, only days before he died, you cried in the arms of Penelope Garcia for hours, letting her console you as you felt your world get flipped upside down.

“I don’t know why I’m feeling like this, god, Penelope. Five years, and I knew, I knew that if he liked me like that something would have happened already, but I just…” She rubbed your back as you laid your head on her shoulder, letting your tears fall freely as the sobs wracked through your body.

“I’ve been in love with him for five years and he never even noticed, and… Penelope he hasn’t seen this girl before and he’s desperate for her. What about me is so unlovable?” Your voice cracked as you broke down again, burying your head in your friend's arms as you let all the emotions hit you at once.

“Y/N you listen to me right now. You are not unlovable, you have never been unlovable. If Spencer cannot see what is right in front of him, then he is an idiot. You are the most amazing thing that has happened to him, you’re a great friend, you’re smart, you’re beautiful-”

“I’m not her. Penelope, I… I want to be her-” She held you as you emptied yourself for hours, crying until you were so physically exhausted that you just couldn’t anymore. You couldn’t say that you stopped crying per se, just that your body ran out of emotions to sustain you.

“Okay, Y/N, here’s what you’re going to do now,” Penelope said. She’d heard you out for long enough, but she wasn’t going to let you be miserable for long.

“You’re going to pick yourself up, take care of yourself. Get a haircut, dye your hair, whatever you need to do to get some change. And then you’re going to do your goddamn best to forget him, because if he’s too stupid to realize how special and amazing you are then he really doesn’t deserve you.” You sniffled a bit and nodded at her words.

“And then, you’re going to get back out there. Y/N, when was the last time you went on a date?”

“I don’t know it’s been… The last one I can remember was before I entered the BAU. I’ve just been so busy-”

“Bullshit. You’re going to put yourself back out there and find a man, or multiple men, who actually value you and want you. A wise scholar once said the best way to get over a man is to get under another.”

–X–

A year later and you’d probably taken Penelope’s words to heart a little bit too much. Maeve had died at the hands of her stalker not even a day later, and you felt terrible for Spencer, but he’d pushed you away, he’d pushed everyone away, so you’d decided she was right.

Your first date had been a few weeks later, and you’d have liked the fact that you’d taken him back to your place and then immediately kicked him out and never seen him again after that to stay a secret. But the BAU copycat didn’t let any of your business stay within the team for long. He had pictures of you with the first guy, the guy from a week later, and the guy after him as well. By the time you’d figured out who the copycat murderer who’d sent you all Zugzwang-themed threats was, he’d got pictures of you locking lips with five separate one-night stands.

The team had said nothing about it, of course, except Hotch’s private aside asking if any of the men in the pictures needed informing about the situation. You’d had to admit to them that you’d not seen any of them since, and, with no reaction from Spencer, you’d felt almost vindicated in taking this step.

If he didn’t care then, in those tense months where you were all leaning on each other for support, reeling from the death of Erin Strauss and the attacks on the team, closer than you’d really ever been before, then he wouldn’t ever care.

The thought was freeing. So you’d kept up with your constant stream of men, not letting them get close enough to hurt you in the way that Spencer had, using them and discarding them like broken toys, ignoring that maybe it was you that was the broken one.

It took a year for him to notice it. A year of you coming in with suspicious bruises on your neck that you laughed off, a year of your newfound confidence, a year of your conscious distance for him to notice that he missed you. It was slow at first. In those first few months, he just accepted that of course, you’d been seeing people. He’d assumed from the photographs everyone had seen that you’d been dating the entire time he’d known you, the feeling unsettling him a little, but he thought that was only because he’d never noticed.

Now it was all he could notice. The way you’d walk in sometimes smelling unfamiliar, having showered at a hookup's place before taking off, the way you were suddenly open to the flirting by the local PDs on your cases. The way a sadness seeped into his chest every time he saw you with someone else. Envy wasn’t a feeling he was familiar with, so it took him stupidly long to name the emotion.

You were back at O’Keefe’s after a local case successfully closed, and if you were drinking a lot, no one mentioned it. No one except Spencer, who’d made it his objective to keep you safe and by his side the entire night, for reasons he couldn’t even name. It was stifling, having him constantly hovering over you.

“Spencer, lighten up a bit, have a drink.” You smiled up at him, trying to get him to loosen up so you could escape the way his sudden care was making you feel. The bartender was eyeing you up from his place behind the bar, and while you were usually careful not to get involved with men whom you’d likely run across again, you were throwing caution to the wind that day.

“I’ll have a drink if you drink some water and slow down a bit, Y/N.” He handed you the glass he’d retrieved earlier and you sipped it slowly, squirming under the care in his gaze. He ordered a drink, and you eyed up the bartender as he did so, pushing Spencer’s hand off your hip as he approached, offering him a smile. He looked between you and the unfamiliar man, and felt a cold flash in his veins, waiting for his drink and then pulling you away back to the table with the rest of your friends, tangling your hand with his.

You pulled out of his grip but followed him dutifully. He guided you into your seat quickly, brushing your hair out of your eyes before falling back into conversation with the rest of the team. You hated the way he could still make your heart stutter, still have you feeling hot all over from a single touch, and you felt trapped in the booth, screaming for a way out.

Your chance came an hour later, when he excused himself to the bathroom, and you excused yourself as well, running back up to the bar. When he came back, you were gone.

“Where is Y/N?” He asked with a scowl, cursing himself for letting his eyes off you for even a second when you’d drank so much that night, having come back to suggest you turn in for the night, getting ready to offer you a ride home.

“Y/N? By now, she’s either in the back room with the bartender or she’s convinced him to get off early and head back to hers,” Morgan chuckled, taking a swig of his drink. “Took her only two minutes of conversation to have him inviting her out the back entrance, she’s been gone for like five minutes now.

The constricted feeling settled in his chest again, as his scowl deepened. Not knowing why he was feeling so goddamn destroyed by that statement, he let his head hang and left the bar himself, taking himself outside to get in his car and go home. Unbeknownst to him, you watched him leave from the alley behind the bar, the bartender placing open-mouthed kisses on your exposed neck as you buried your worryingly consistent feelings in the scent of bourbon and lust.

The next week is rough for both of you. You laugh and play along with Morgan’s jokes about your game, keeping an eye out for him the entire time and ending all the conversations as you feel him enter the room or step closer. It doesn’t stop him from hearing it all, though, all the details about your sex life tormenting him, as he boils with anger at how wreckless you’re being with your constant stream of guys.

“Mama, you were on fire last week. Took you only two minutes to disappear with that guy, you’re going to have to let me in on your secrets,” Morgan laughed from his perch on your desk.

“Sorry, a magician never reveals her secrets, and what I do is definitely magic.” Your tone was suggestive and set the man off in a booming laugh, but with your back to the door, you hadn’t heard Spencer’s entrance.

“The secret is that men are more accepting of casual hook-ups with strangers than women,” he snapped at you both, beginning to ramble as you both looked up at him in shock.

“Okay, kid, I was just joking-”

“When surveyed over 75% of men said they would be willing to have sex with a complete stranger, vs. 0% of women, and while that’s just one study, there are multiple others that I could quote that have similar results.”

“Spencer,” you chastised him, but he didn’t stop.

“What? Did you want to know when posing the question of an affair to people in a relationship that 18% of men reacted positively to having casual sex with a stranger, and surprisingly 4% of women also reacted in the affirmative? Did you ask that guy if he had a girlfriend before you fell into his bed, Y/N?”

“Okay, that’s enough, Spencer, take a walk. I don’t know what’s up with you today, but that was out of line. Hotch is looking for you in his office.” The words came from Morgan, but he kept his eyes locked with yours as he was scolded, memorizing the look of pain in your eyes as he finally backed away.

He didn’t know why he did it. He knew it would hurt you, and yet he continued anyway, even after you’d begged him to stop. He was hurt, and he didn’t know why, and he didn’t think he had any reason to be hurt, and somehow it was all because you’d been in the back of his mind constantly for as long as he could remember.

–X–

“Okay, girl’s night, my place, tomorrow night. There are no cases, and I managed to get Hotch to agree to let us put our phones on silent for the night, so it’s just me, you, JJ, and Blake, a bottle of wine and some good old-fashioned girl talk, what do you say?” Penelope asked you gleefully in the break room one day as you both prepared your drinks for a busy day of paperwork ahead.

“I’m sorry, Pen, I have plans already.” You grinned up at her as she pouted, promising to make it up to her another time. You didn’t offer an explanation though, just excusing yourself back to your desk and letting her know that you’d make it up to her another time.

Reid took your place as soon as you vacated it. Almost obsessively, he’d been following you around like a lost puppy since he’d exploded on you the other day.

“I know you said girls’ night but… Could... Could I come? I think I need some uh, girl talk?” He asked Penelope, an awkward, embarrassed look on his face as he smiled tensely. If anyone knew what was wrong with him, recently, it would be them.

Last year, he’d have said it was you, but the distance he’d felt recently, combined with the fact that he was almost 90% sure you were the root of his problems had him desperate for other opinions.

“Oh. Are you sure, Spencer, we’ll be talking about all kinds of gross women stuff?”

“I was raised by a single mother. I’m sure nothing you say could gross me out. Please?” She nodded her approval telling him what time to get there and to bring his beverage of choice, knowing he didn’t really drink wine all that much if he could help it.

He turned up twenty minutes late, after spending a great deal of time pacing outside of Penelope’s apartment building wondering if he had any right to unburden himself on them like this. Pacing he wondered whether you’d actually showed up despite your mysterious plans and whether this had been all for naught anyway.

When he eventually knocked on the door, Penelope opened it and greeted him with a warm hug. “We were wondering when you were going to knock on the door, one more minute and we were going to come out to get you.”

JJ stood up to hug him, wine glass in her hand, and Blake offered him a wave from her perch on the couch. He took off his scarf and coat and accepted the glass of water Penelope offered him, settling into a chair opposite the three women.

“Penelope said you wanted advice about something?” Blake was the first to enquire, the three of them getting straight into it, not letting him chicken out of it.

“Yeah, I think so. Lately, I’ve been having these, I don’t know, weird feelings…”

“Oh god, I thought I was a few years out from having the talk with someone,” JJ joked, but Penelope shushed her quickly after a quick snicker, letting him continue.

“I’ve been… I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been acting really weird around Y/N, and I can’t figure out why.” He finally pushed the words out, feeling a weight off his chest at the confession.

“You can’t?” The room was silent for a minute as they looked at each other, and he looked at them looking at each other, wondering what it was exactly that he’d missed.

“Yeah? I don’t know, every time I see her I just want to, I don’t know, have her attention on me, even if I have to say something a little mean to get it. And in the bar that time, I was so, I don’t know hurt, I guess, when she disappeared without saying goodbye.”

They just listened to him go on, not stopping to interrupt him, so he continued.

“And there’s been this weird distance between us lately, and I guess it’s been there for a while, but I miss her, but she’s still there. I can still talk to her, and I can still spend time with her but I miss her all the time.”

“Spencer,” Blake said with a soft voice. “Since when have you been feeling like this?”

“I don’t know, I guess it started after everything happened with Strauss and the copycat in New York. But she’s always been… I don’t know, closer than most people? But every time I think we’re getting back to normal recently, she pulls away again and there’s this… void where she should be.”

JJ put her drink down and leaned a little closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Spencer, I think you might be in love with her.” He considered the words for a moment, before getting ready to dismiss them.

“No, love is a good emotion, this doesn’t feel good, it feels… ugly.” Blake stared at him sympathetically, calmly talking him around.

“Spencer, think about it. You’re protective over her, you don’t like seeing her with other people, this all started right around the time the copycat sent those pictures of her with other people. It is love, and it’s jealousy, too.”

The words hit him like a tonne of bricks as he suddenly felt the full force of his words. He was in love with you.

“Oh god, what do I do?” He held his head in his hands, and Penelope scoffed a little from her seat, the rest of them turning to look at him.

“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to figure this one out on your own genius.” She said with a slightly sharp tone, and even the girls sent her questioning stares as she continued.

“You don’t just get to decide that you want her after all this time, not after how you’ve been treating her these last few months.” She turns her head away a little bit and sips her drink, her tough-love approach leaving him slightly defeated.

“Penelope, do you know something?” Blake asks firmly, trying to coax some answers out of her.

“If I did, I’d be under a strict oath not to tell anyone. And I wouldn’t want to considering how much pain she was in when she made me swear never to tell anyone.” It was clear from the tone of her voice that she really wanted to say something though, the words desperate to spill out.

“Penelope, your loyalty is commendable, but don’t you think what you have to say could help both of them?” JJ quietly coaxed out of her, and she finally gave in.

“Okay, but if you hurt her, Spencer Reid, I will never forgive you ever again.” He nodded quickly, hanging onto her every word.

“Think about what else happened a year ago.” She encouraged him, and for a moment, he was coming up blank.

“A year ago? We were in the middle of the copycat case. Strauss had just been killed. We were close to being pulled off the case-”

“You got a girlfriend, Spencer. You came in one day out of the blue and just announced that you were in love with someone you hadn’t met, and you didn’t realize that you were torturing her.” Penelope tried really hard not to snap at him, but his ignorance of your feelings was frustrating, to say the least.

“What Penelope is trying to say, Spencer, is that we think Y/N was in love with you, too,” JJ added, softening the blow. “And finding out you didn’t feel the same way so suddenly was, well it was a shock to all of us really.”

“What Penelope is trying to say is that she spent six hours with me crying into this couch, and then picked herself up and helped you try to save the woman you had chosen over her. So yeah, she’s been a bit distant, but can you really blame her?”

“She… She was in love with me?” His heart stopped for a second, dropping to the pit of his stomach as he thought back to those days, how you’d acted around him, the smiles that hadn’t reached your eyes, the reassurances that he’d brushed off, so desperate to help Maeve.

“Honestly, until you told us about Maeve, I thought you two had something going on,” Blake added.

“We used to have an office bet when Emily was around about which of the two of you would confess first,” JJ admitted shyly.

“Oh, god.” He let his head hang a little in shame. “Do you… do you think she still feels the same?”

They shared another glance at each other again, and he panicked trying desperately to decode whatever it was that had just passed between them.

“Look, we shouldn’t profile each other but… It’s not a coincidence that all of her hookups tend to happen after you pay her some attention.” Blake observed, letting Reid fill in the blanks of her statement.

“That might be my fault actually, I told her the best way to get over you is to get under someone else.”

“I don’t want her under someone else,” he stated then, cutting himself off before he could say anything else too damning.

“She’s not here tonight, why isn’t she here?” He panicked looking frantically around the room for answers, but none of them knew really.

“She said she had plans, but she didn’t tell me what they are.”

“Do you think she’s… do you think she’s with…” He couldn’t finish the thought, instead bolting upright and gathering his things.

“I need to go.” He let out, as the women cheered behind him, finally happy that he was taking action. Penelope shouted your address at him as he left as if he didn’t already have it memorized, running out in the rain, his feet carrying him to your apartment.

He saw the light on when he approached, thankful that you were still there, and bounded up the stairs to your floor, not giving himself time to second guess this before he pounded on your door.

You pulled the door open, a confused look on your face as you greeted him, his chest heaving, water dripping down his face. He looked like a mess.

“Are you alone?” He gasped out, having to pause between each word to catch his breath.

“Spencer, what are you doing-” The breath left your body as he leaned into you, catching you around the hips and walking you back into your apartment, your back hitting the wall behind you as he rested his forehead against your own, chest still desperately drawing in oxygen.

“Please, please tell me right now if there’s someone here with you. If there is, I’ll leave, if there isn’t…” His gaze fell to your lips and your entire body lit up, the haze of your confusion finally lifting as you took in each of his words. His lips moved forward, seconds from connecting with your own when his question was finally answered.

“Y/N? Who is it?” The voice was male, and it was coming from your living room, but it was all Spencer needed to know as he detangled himself from you, pushing his wet hair out of his face and putting some distance between you two, muttering apologies as he backed out of the door again.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I’m sorry,” he said, quickly turning away from you and leaving your apartment quickly.

“Spencer, wait-” You tried to yell after him, but it was too late. He had disappeared into the night, as quickly as he came.

You returned to the living room, cursing yourself for not answering quickly enough as you crawled back into the seat you’d just left.

“What was all that?” Your brother asked from his perch, shoveling popcorn into his mouth in a way that had you somehow even more pissed at him for the simple fact of his existence.

“That was Spencer. He… God, I think he thinks I’m in here with a guy.”

–X–

The next few days at work were tense, as you desperately tried everything to catch his eye. But you weren’t sure why you were putting in so much effort. He was the one who had burst into your apartment and practically begged you for your attention, why were you now the one chasing him?

Needless to say, you took your frustrations straight to Penelope Monday morning.

“And then he left without letting me explain that it was my brother, and he hasn’t talked to me once this morning, he keeps running away from me and I don’t even know what the fuck it was he was trying to gain from all that and- ughh he is so dense.”

Penelope had sensed the oncoming disaster the moment she’d seen your social media post about your brother’s visit Saturday morning, and you only confirmed all her fears as you unloaded onto her. She silently cursed Spencer as well, and once she’d given you some reassurance and reminded you that you had some case files on your desk that were urgent and distracting enough to calm you down, she practically lept from her seat to hunt Reid down.

“Spencer Reid, you get your ass in my office right this second,” she whisper screamed at him in the breakroom, his sunken eyes showing that his jump to conclusions had left him in a poor emotional state. He jolted at her words, as she watched to see if you noticed the two of them before practically frog-marching him off down the hall.

“What the hell happened? We sent you off to confess your feelings, and you what? Pin her to the wall and breathe down her neck before running off with your tail between your legs?”

He looked down guiltily before replying. “She had a guy there, Penelope, I didn’t want to… I didn’t want to get rejected like that.”

“She did not have a guy there, Spencer, she had her brother there.” She pulled up your post on her phone and thrust it in his face as she watched his eyes go wide at his own stupidity, clutching the phone as he read your words.

“And if you weren’t a coward, you’d have stayed and told her even if she did actually have someone over.”

He’d since tuned out her words though, the crushing weight of his almost-confession that had been stuck to him since the weekend dissipating slowly.

“This is her brother?” He looked up at you again, desperate to confirm the words she’d already said.

“Yes. You’d know that if you weren’t such a technophobic freak. I love you but this is the 21st Century and you’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, I am.” He handed her the phone back and slunk out of the office, and back to his desk. He had a chance to try again, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up this time.

–X–

You didn’t know how you knew that night, but when you heard the knock at your door, you knew it was him.

You hesitated before reaching for the door handle, pulling it open, and confirming your suspicions.

“Hi.” You said, and he returned the greeting with a mumble of his own before the two of you fell into silence again. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, but couldn’t, instead letting his gaze fall to your lips. You heard the hidden question in his look and opened the door a little wider.

It took only a moment for him to come crashing into you, hands holding your face as his lips met yours in a passionate embrace, drinking you in as again walked you back into your apartment, not even breaking away as he closed the door behind you.

You wrapped your arms up and around his neck, as you let his hands fall to your hips, your chest, your ass, exploring every part of your body he could reach as you stood caught up in each other. In your desperation for each other, you hit walls, and bumped into tables, finally stopping at your kitchen island as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he started pressing kisses down the hollow of your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered between kisses. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your brother and I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, and I’m sorry I’ve been so weird recently.” You pulled his face back up to your own claiming his lips in yours once again, swallowing each of his other apologies.

He pulled away again, looking at you tenderly as he lifted you into his arms and gently carried you into your room, laying you down on your bed.

“I love you,” he whispered, and the words broke you. You’d spent five years practically begging him to say them, and another year since trying to bury even the very idea of him feeling the same way deep inside you. Tears fell from your eyes and he kissed each one of them away, muttering confessions into your skin.

“I love you, please don’t cry.”

“I love you, you’re so beautiful.”

“I love you and I’m so so sorry.” You pushed him away again slightly, regaining enough of your composure to finally talk again.

“I need to know that you’re serious, Spencer. I can’t… I can’t do this if you’re not totally sure, because it will destroy me.” Your voice broke as the words stumbled over the knot in your throat, your hands balled into his shirt, legs still wrapped around him.

“I’m serious. I don’t want to hurt you ever again.” He pressed his lips back into yours again, and you let the kiss deepen, lips slanting over each other in desperation as the need to be joined overtook your body.

He lifted your skirt, trailing a hand between the two of you as he checked your arousal. You could feel his cock pressing into your thigh, desperate to be freed from it’s restraints. He began kissing his way down your naval, but you pulled him back up.

“No, I need you now. There will be time for that later, but if you don’t do this now I think I’ll drive myself mad with wanting.” His lips reconnected with yours again as you began divesting yourselves of clothing, and within another two minutes, he was pressing into you, muttering more adoring serenades into your skin as he began catching the tears escaping your eyes again.

“Yes, Spencer, more please,” you moaned underneath him, legs tight around him as he began thrusting into you with a ferocity you hadn’t felt from him before. It was tender, but you were both desperate, after months of separation, to come back into one another.

Your lips and teeth clashed together as you let the room echo with your moans, his moans, and the sound of your skin slapping against each other. His forehead came to rest against your own as he grew closer to his release, lips disconnecting as you just stared into each other's eyes in that moment, seeing each other truly for the very first time.

“Y/N, I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.” He pressed down into you harder, looking down to the place where you were joined and letting out a whispered curse as he watched you take every inch of him. His hips stuttered then, and you felt your own climax reach you as you felt him release into you, his lips softly tracing your own as you breathed each other in again.

He pulled out and immediately went to work making sure you were comfortable, propping you up on the bed, making sure the pillows behind you were plump and soft, and running off to find something to clean yourself up with. You watched him silently, again brushing some of the tears from your eyes.

“How do you feel?” He said shyly as he returned, having pulled his pants back on at least as he bought you a glass of water. You offered him a small smile and a thank you as you replied.

“I think… I think we need to talk, Spencer.” You said, not meeting his eyes as he looked down at you attentively.

“Why did you come tonight, Spencer?” You asked, voice so quiet you resisted the urge to repeat the question, knowing that he heard you perfectly clearly,

“I needed to tell you how I feel. It’s been staring me in the face for six years, and I somehow didn’t know, but once I did I just… I needed you to know.” You nodded at his words, standing still in front of you on the bed as you swung your legs off and asked him to pass you your nightdress back. You pulled it on over your head as you asked him your next question.

“Why did you run away the other day?”

“I didn’t know it was your brother, Y/N, I should’ve-”

“It shouldn’t have mattered who it was. If you love me, you should fight for me, right? The way you fought for Maeve.” Your tears start falling again as you open the wound that brought you this far.

“Y/N, that was… That was different-” You can hear the panic in his voice as he tries to come up with the words to explain himself.

“Spencer, if.. If it’s different then I think you should leave. If you don’t love me the same way you loved her, then there’s no point starting something.”

“Y/N, please.”

“No, Spencer. I have spent six years of my life filled with nothing but love for you. I wake up and think about you, I go to bed and you’re still there in the back of my mind. My every action is informed by your presence and I am so, so tired. So if you do not feel the same way, you need to turn around and leave this apartment.”

The silence between you is thick, as you stare up at him through your tears, face stern as you push him away.

He gathers his things. Moves towards the door and doesn’t say anything, and just as you’re about to break down, to let the sob burst from your chest in an agonized wail, you hear your front door close behind him, and you’re left alone in the empty apartment, stuck in the purgatory of your love for him, unable to move an inch.

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notjustjavierpena · 10 months

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The Making of Ellie - Part I

A/N: This DILF!Joel piece has rotted my brain for 24 hours straight. I have had absolutely no break from thinking about this, and it’s never been easier to write something.

Summary: A look into how you and Joel’s relationship is going two years in. Joel’s POV on his never-ending love for you and his extreme baby fever.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), Joel’s POV, domesticated Joel Miller, Sarah makes an appearance!!!, tooth-rotting love and fluff, they’re crazy about each other, talk about birth control and ovulation, pussy eating (joel is a cunning linguist), fingering, bit of praise kink, dirty talk, bit of body worship, breeding kink, daddy kink (if you squint real hard), slow and sensual piv sex, intense orgasms, creampie, God they are in love

Word count: 4k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051

Song inspiration(!!!): Too Lost In You by Sugababes

Baby-Making

Joel comes home from work around the same time each day now — and it’s never after dinner time. He has made it his mission to make time for Sarah and you, cut down work since you moved in, because two working adults living in the house means that he can slow things down.

His health has improved, his mood too, his fatigue has practically gone and Sarah has had more time to just be a kid, started playing soccer again, and has even taken up coaching the little league team now that she’s 16. It’s good for him. You are good for him. For both of them.

He loves it. He takes the afternoon post-work ritual very seriously. Always texts if he should pick something up from the grocery store. Sometimes brings you flowers too, remembering that one time you’d said that you didn’t actually mind the cheap cellophane-wrapped bouquets.

It’s interesting to him how natural it feels for him to slip right into domestic bliss with you because he never thought that he would get there again after Sarah’s mother. On top of it, he never considered himself a gentle thing, but after you, it’s like you kiss the calluses of him away. He is nothing but gentle now, even in his roughness.

He throws the keys onto the side table by the front door after arriving home, shrugs off his jacket, and bends down to take off his boots. The sound makes you appear in the doorway. Joel notices that you’ve changed into gray sweatpants and a tank top with a strawberry on it since arriving home, basically removed anything from you that is professional and uncomfortable. Joel loves you like this because he is the only one who gets to enjoy you like this; relaxed and beautiful, hair in a messy bun on top of your head and fuzzy socks on your always-cold feet. He smiles at your radiance, then pads across the floor to kiss you hello.

There’s something in your eyes; a flicker of mischief as you grab his wrist to look at his watch. With a grin that nearly sets his heart into overdrive, you hold his hand up so he can look at the time too.

“It’s five minutes past,” you tut.

“Right, but I got ya something,” he says, reluctantly turning away from you to rummage through his jacket pocket. He fishes out a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and you immediately snatch it from his hands, holding it close to your chest.

“Gremlin,” he teases and you stick out your tongue at him, “No needa hide it. ‘S too sweet for me anyway.”

“I shall save it for later then,” you walk to the kitchen and open the top cabinet that holds the mugs. You stand on your toes to reach into the very back, shirt riding up just a little, and stash the chocolate cup for later consumption.

“Hidden from Sa-rah, the candy thief,” you purposely pronounce her name wrong for dramatic purposes. Then you lower yourself onto the soles of your feet again, not bothering to pull your top down again. Joel watches the slight reveal of the dimples on your back.

“Right,” he chuckles.

Dear Lord, he loves you so much that it is ridiculous. In a way that makes the future look better than it ever has because it’s no longer filled with uncertainty. He knows what’s going to happen; he’ll build a house for the three of you, he’ll marry you in the Texan spring and he’ll give you as many babies as you want. He’d do it all today if he could.

“How was work?” You interrupt his thoughts by wrapping your soft hands around the nape of his neck, resting them there. You have rosy cheeks, feel warm against his skin, with love radiating from your fingertips.

“Good, told Tommy to handle the next few clients. Some hotshot guy comin’ into the office tomorrow,” Joel tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. He thinks that you don’t actually care about any of this, but there’s no indication of boredom on your face.

“He building a castle or something?” You ask.

“Somethin’ like that. Guy’s filthy rich but not from his own doin’, looking at blueprints at the end of the week. Should be interesting,” he continues, “Not that you care about that.”

“I do actually like hearing about your job,” you kiss him on the lips, peck them repeatedly until he cannot help himself and lifts you up to hug you tight. His arms rest along your back and his hands on your sides, fingers sprawled out underneath where your bra had been in the morning. You must’ve taken it off too. He loves you comfortable.

“You just love my hands,” he retorts, nose against your cheek, “Don’t deny it. I see right through ya.”

“It’s definitely not completely wrong,” you admit when he sets you down again.

You walk back to the kitchen, too tempted by the knowledge of what is in your kitchen cabinet. You only take half, proclaiming some bullshit that you have to watch out for your blood sugar since one can never know when it’s going to get you.

Joel rolls his eyes, following you, “I can give ya some sugar.”

“Joel Miller!” You pretend to look shocked. He tastes the peanut butter in your mouth, pushes you against the counter.

“Gross,” a teenage girl’s voice says.

“Oh right, Sarah’s home,” you announce sheepishly.

Joel pulls away to look at his daughter, “Hey kiddo. How was school?”

“You don’t care about that,” she smirks, “But if you must know, it was fine. No homework.”

“That don’t sound like Mrs. uhhh…”

“Green, it’s Ms. Green, Dad,” Sarah says dramatically as she moves across the floor to put on shoes. Her tone turns taunting, “Go ahead and make out with your girlfriend. I’m going to soccer practice.”

“Have fun, Sarah! We’ll have dinner ready,” you chime in.

“See ya, honey.”

The door closes behind her. The house grows quiet for a moment, but then the mischief is back in your eyes, “She’s seeing a boy.”

Joel nearly gets whiplash, not sure why his pulse spikes. He trusts his daughter to make good decisions and has taught her how since she was just a baby, “Nah, she ain’t. Just said she’s going to soccer practice.”

“Joel,” you sigh loudly, “It’s Tuesday.”

“So?”

“She has practice on Thursdays.”

“Christ,” he runs a hand over his stubble, tries to keep his composure, and ignores the urge to send her a text.

“But you know what?” You’re back in his personal space, tugging at his arms to make him hold you close again, “Such a fun coincidence. I’m also seeing a boy.”

Joel can feel the tension seeping out of him in an instant.

“Really? ‘Cause I’m seein’ a girl. She’s real pretty,” he wishes that he could show his past self how tooth-rottingly sweet he is being with you because he’d hate it. Though if past-Joel found out who he was treating like this, he’d instantly become a goner just like present-Joel is now.

“‘S her sweet tooth, unhinged behavior that I love the most though,” he continues.

You whine in his arms, lean your head back and it earns you a kiss on your neck, “Don’t be like that. Not when I’m ovulating. I’ll climb you like a tree.”

Oh.

It may seem innocent but Joel knows this is how you play dirty. It suddenly explains a lot. The sweatpants, the rosy cheeks, the way you glow, no bra, the cravings, why Joel wants you so bad.

Joel wouldn’t say that he is controlled by biology, and he hates the men trying to argue their way out of acting like cavemen. But looking at you right now in your stupid strawberry tank top, knowing that you’re horny and ready because your body wants to make him a daddy... Joel’s head swims.

Something shifts in the air. You can see it on him, but Joel assumes that you wait for him to act on whatever is bubbling up in his chest and below his belt.

And act, he does. He distracts you with deep, long kisses until he can snatch you up from the ground and carry you upstairs. You squeak out a giggle but don’t fight back, enjoying the freedom of being alone with him.

“That’s why you’re so fucking sexy,” Joel says after placing you on your shared bed. He is already shedding himself of his shirt, undressing hurriedly to get close to your skin with his own as quickly as possible.

You crawl back on the bed, untying the strings of your sweatpants and yanking them down your legs. You match his urgency, but still decide to tease him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shut your mouth,” he yanks the rest of your pants off as soon as he is naked in front of you. He throws them in the pile of his own clothes, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, dirty girl.”

You’re just about to take your top off before Joel stops you with a hand curled around the hem. He knows you’re sensitive at this point in your cycle, but it’s not why he wants to keep it on, “I love how cute you are in this shirt. Keep it on like this.”

He crawls properly onto the bed to demonstrate and tugs the shirt up over your tits so he can still see the stupid animated fruit on the front. Afterward, he tugs your panties down your legs and off your feet. He will swear to a higher power that he can even smell it on you, sweet like strawberries and honey between your legs and it makes him feel like an animal.

He has had baby fever for a while now, even told you his plans on giving you a whole bunch of babies and you’ve merely giggled at him, especially when he told you that twins don’t run in his family, but he is sure that nature will give him a whole litter with you.

“Want me to eat you out?” He asks to which you whimper and nod. He doesn’t give you what you want right then and there, instead climbs up to cradle your head in his hands and gives you a long, slow kiss. He sucks on your tongue, hums into your mouth, and gets you worked up and wet before he’ll treat you right.

“Tell me,” he says when he breaks the kiss, nosing along the bunched-up fabric of his new favorite top of yours. He sucks at the skin between your breasts, places open-mouthed kisses along the swell of the left whilst cupping the right.

“I want you to eat my pussy,” you moan softly, running a hand over his hair as he licks a nipple. You slide your fingers into it, but you don’t tug at it unless you feel like you need to hold onto it for dear life.

“God, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growls before going further down your body, his spit leaving a shine where his mouth has been, “Can’t believe I own these tits.”

He goes further down, lets out a satisfied noise when he can see between your legs, “—and this pussy.”

“Yes, it’s yours, fuck, baby,” you sound delirious already, happy and eager to be touched, on the verge of a giggle even, “Joel, need your mou—“

You gasp loudly into the quiet bedroom. Joel has covered you with his mouth, eyes almost rolling back into his skull at the taste of your ripe cunt. He is too lost in you, a complete idiot with how head over heels he is for you, and he shows it by devouring you like he is starved.

“Baby!” You cry out, sensitive, “Fuuuck— just like that!”

He watches your thighs twitch in his peripheral, holds you down by placing a strong hand just below your belly button, and uses his thumb on said hand to pull the hood of your clit back. He sucks the little now-hard nub into his mouth, sending you into a state where he is unsure if you can even sense the sheets underneath you. If you had superpowers, he surely would’ve made you lift off the bed as if you were possessed.

He bobs his head a little, probably looking obscene as he hums against your clit and wiggles his head too. He looks up at you through his lashes, sees the red flush on your chest, and knows that you are close. Christ, he hasn’t been this into someone before.

“I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ you say like always, announcing your departure from reality. He keeps going, feeling your stomach jump in a stuttering manner underneath his palm with how uneven your breathing has become.

“Fuck, I’m coming!” You sob with a yank of Joel’s hair and suddenly your thighs are shaking violently without your control. Joel can feel you coming before you announce it, your cunt clenching rapidly against his lips and your clit pulsing in his mouth as he sucks your folds into his mouth. You taste so good as a gush on slick smears his lips and chin even more. He laps it up.

You push him away when he gets too much, and he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh. You finally release the giggle that you’ve been suppressing, drunk on dopamine and Joel falls in love with you a bit more.

“You’re fucking incredible,” you say. The hand in his hair slides down so you can affectionately run your knuckles over his cheek. He responds by gently rubbing your thighs, soothing you on top of putting such strain on your heart and your breath. You hum, “I love you so much.”

Without warning, he smacks your thigh and you sit up straight. He grins, “Love ya too, sweetheart. Think you can give me one more before I fuck ya?”

“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” You ask genuinely as you lower onto your back again.

“Wanna fuck a baby into you,” he replies, voice an octave lower than normal. He senses your shiver without having to look at your face, “Please. Wanna get her red and puffy so it fucking sticks.”

You let out an involuntary moan at the idea. You want this as much as him, he hopes, and he slides two fingers into your neglected pussy whilst he waits for the green light to fill you up. He crooks them upwards, fingers the spongy spot that only seems to have been discovered by him, “Lemme in. Lemme come in you.”

You’ve been off the pill for a while with the reasoning that it wasn’t doing any good for your body. Joel had stocked up on condoms since then, actually filled the top drawer of his nightstand to the brim because honey, we’re young and healthy, red-blooded Americans. But it had planted the idea in his mind that he could potentially knock you up, and suddenly the stash of condoms was being used rapidly.

“Okay,” you say with a half-moan, “Fuck, okay.”

Joel immediately sits up on his knees, still fucking you open on his hand. You squirm underneath his touch, trying to get a hold of your breathing this time, holding eye contact with him as he drags another orgasm from you.

It is much less hurried and a lot more intense, muscles clamping down on his digits rhythmically as you bite your lip and close your eyes with a soft gasp. He can’t decide if he finds this more sexy.

“Did you mean it?” He asks as he trails kisses up your belly. He kneels between your legs and places an elbow on either side of your chest so he can hold both your breasts in his hands. He squeezes them together, sucks on a nipple until you sigh deeply, and then watches them bounce back into place.

“Yes,” you say and your voice doesn’t sound unsure at all, “Fuck yes, I want your babies. Wanted them since I saw you. Want you to make me a mommy.”

“The prettiest momma out there,” he says, euphoria evident on his face. He slides his arms underneath you, rests his head on your breasts, and hugs you close to his chest, “Wanna fuck ya.”

“Please,” you say softly, spreading your legs open for him but he has other plans. He releases you from his arms to sit up again, spreading his knees a little. His hands wrap around your ankles to lift your legs up onto his shoulders, your feet behind his ears. He leans over you afterward and bends your flexible legs backward until the front of his thighs are against the back of yours. He can go deep like this, fill you up with his come how he has wanted to for months.

He takes hold of his cock, eases it inside of your spent and warm cunt inch by inch. You feel incredible around his dick without a piece of rubber separating the two of you. He can feel the head of his dick nudge at your cervix, moaning quietly as he is engulfed by your wet, pulsating heat.

“How are you still so fucking tight?” He groans, resting his forehead against your calf as he gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch. He knows he is big, gets a thrill out of how well you take him each time as if you were made specifically for him. There had been one time where he’d called you a trooper, and you had laughed so hard with his dick inside you that it had made him come.

“You feel so big like this,” you say as you look down between the two of you, already sounding out of breath. Joel kisses your calf repeatedly and softly, trying to soothe your overwhelmed body.

“Goddamn. You’re so sexy,” he praises, placing both hands on the sides of your head so he is hovering above you. He finds your hazy eyes, “Look at you.”

He gives an experimental roll of his hips that makes you whimper, both hands reaching for the backs of his knees. You hold onto him, staring up into his eyes with that siren-like look in them, and then you moan softly.

Joel starts fucking you desperately at that. He doesn’t hurry though, keeps his hips’ movements slow and sensual to have you moaning and gasping ever so slightly at the intensity. He knows he could just give in and fuck you rough and fast, but the heavy-lidded gaze that you are giving him with your mouth hanging open is too good to spoil.

“Joel,” you cry but it’s barely audible compared to what he sometimes drags from you. He can feel your nails dig into the flexing muscles of his thighs, creating half-moon shapes in the flesh. He switches to a rocking motion, and it sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You moan with your bottom lip between your teeth, “Mhm—“

“I know, baby, let it out,” he can see your pulse jumping wildly underneath the sensitive skin of your neck, feeling the heat of his orgasm pool at the base of his spine. He needs to be closer to you.

“Lift your legs down to the sides,” he tells you gently, thrusts coming to a halt and him realizing that you’ve heard absolutely nothing. He repeats himself, waits for you to follow his instructions, and then hooks his arms underneath your knees.

Joel gets closer to you by resting his weight on his elbows, his own body on top of your slightly contorted one. You reach for him, grabby hands in the air until he allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. You cradle his face, make him feel safe in your arms.

“I love you, baby,” he breathes deeply. The new position gives him an opportunity to reach deeper inside of you, and it’s accompanied by each upward snap of his pelvis causing his cockhead to push into your g-spot. It makes it difficult for you to continue kissing him, eventually simply breathing into his mouth as he has you speared on his dick. Never once do you let go of his face, thumbs on his cheekbones, and tip of your nose against his.

“I love you,” you whisper, unable to catch your breath. Joel can feel your walls flutter around his dick, threatening to pull his own climax from him too soon. You pant, eyes burning, “You— baby, shit… you’re gonna make me come.”

“Yeah?” He speeds up a little, carding a hand through your hair and gently tugging on the bun. He coaxes you, “Gonna milk my cock into you? Make me a daddy?”

“Yeah,” you whimper wantonly, tightening your legs into his sides as you try moving with him, “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you a daddy! Fuckfuckfuck. Ah— I’m, I—“

Joel doesn’t know if he’s ever made you come like this; without all the muscle and rough touches, without the fast-paced snaps of his hips and the foul taunting from his mouth of how dirty you are. But come you do, with your brows furrowed, gaze on his and a controlled breathing that suddenly becomes erratic and uneven after you let out a high-pitched cry.

“That’s it,” he admires you, “So good f’me.”

You clamp down on his cock so hard that he sees stars, fucks you through each convulsion of your cunt. His mouth drips with filth as he works himself toward his own pleasure, “You make me so fucking horny, baby. Wanna knock— ngh, wanna knock this pretty pussy up all the time. Give ya a whole fuckin’ litter.”

He tips over the edge not long after, heart pounding in his chest and the sensation in his balls tightening. He releases with a groan, settles deep inside of you to make sure he doesn’t waste a single drop. His orgasm pulses through his cock, swirls in his belly, and warms the small of his back.

“Fuuuck,” he pants. He carefully removes his arms from underneath your legs before he collapses, allowing you to stretch out underneath him. You look completely fucked out, gasping feebly as he teasingly gives you another thrust before pulling out.

You wrap your arms around him as he falls onto you, nose against the shell of his ear. He can barely lift his head when you speak, humming into your neck that vibrates as you talk, “You think other people have sex this good?”

“Nah, ‘s why everyone is so fuckin’ miserable, why they gotta build mansions with their parents’ money,” he murmurs.

“Stop thinking about the hotshot client in bed,” you tease as you cradle his head in your arms, lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. It seems you cannot get close enough, “You should only think about sticky, sweaty me.”

Joel finds that he doesn’t care about sticky, sweaty skin and you feeling like a furnace after three orgasms. He lays with you like this for a while, sure that you’ve drifted off to sleep at one point, until you push at his shoulder, voice back to your normal pitch as the post-orgasmic bliss has faded slowly, “Gotta pee.”

“Sure,” he rolls off of you. The sight of your waddle to the bathroom makes him smile, eyes following the way the fleshiest part of your ass and thighs jiggle with each step.

When you’ve closed the door behind you, Joel finds the strength to rid the bed of the dirty sheets and start dressing again. He’ll have a shower before bed, he decides, ignoring the sensitivity of sliding on boxers and jeans again.

Hurriedly, he bounces down the stairs to the kitchen. He gets the rest of your peanut butter cup, places it on the nightstand with your clothes right beside it.

He checks the time. There’s no point in trying to cook something up for dinner if Sarah is home from ‘practice’ soon, so he goes down into the kitchen to order pizza, heart thrumming in his chest as he hears you shout a thank you from upstairs at the discovery of the other half of your favorite snack. He is happy. So so happy.

Especially as he writes ‘pregnancy test’ into his Notes app shopping list.

@elissaaa @queerponcho @casa-boiardi @gracieispunk @hiddenbabynyc @hopelessromantic727 @livingdeadmaria @its-nebuleuse @milly-louise @cool-iguana @pawnshopbluess222 @joeldjarin @queenbrownie18 @scarletsloveletter @ladyburberry @swiftsgirlfriend @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sunnywithachanceofjavi @strang3lov3 @hellishjoel @toxicanonymity

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Text

WAVE OF YOU, C. LECLERC.

PROLOGUE — NEXT CHAPTER. [ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

PAIRING. charles leclerc x female reader.

CHAPTER ONE SUMMARY — It looks like any other shift at the coffee shop until the presence of a brown haired boy with dimples changes everything. The same boy you meet at the beach several days ago — the one who stood you up.

CONTENT WARNINGS. female reader, use of Y/N, alcohol use, fluff & friends being a menace.

GWEN’S RADIO MESSAGE. OH MY GOD! i'm so sorry it took me so long, but i was in the worst writers block of all times and couldn't get out of it :( but i forced myself to finish this today and ta-dah! i really hope you like it, your comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. remember that if you want to be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post, send me a dm or leave it in my ask box!

“Come on, girl! We can’t be late today.” You groan in frustration, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you watch Daisy shake the sand out of her fur. She sits and looks up at you with her tongue out, head slightly tilted to the side. “Good girl.” You say, giving her one of her favorite dog treats. You put the collar on her and she happily starts walking by your side.

It’s a short walk, around ten minutes, from the beach to the coffee shop you started working at just two months ago. You like it so much that you probably spend more time there than in your own apartment. It’s cozy and family owned, and there is always a pleasant atmosphere even though there are always people coming in and out, one of the perks of having the shop so close to the beach.

And everyone loves Daisy too, so you’re allowed to bring her with you. While you work behind the counter, she chills by the door in her bed with her favorite bunny plushie. She brings joy and bright smiles to every single person that visits the coffee shop.

You can’t believe this is your life.

It wasn’t easy at first but making the decision to drop out of school and travel around the world wasn’t as difficult as breaking the news to your parents. And after everything you went through in these two years you deserve the good things and peace that is coming your way.

It was all worth it, missing your family, waking up in the middle of the night wondering if you made the right decision, the good and the bad… it was all worth it. You wouldn’t change a thing because it brought you to this; to Australia and to the wonderful people you’ve met.

“Good morning, Fred.” You say to the owner of the flower shop right next door to where you work. He smiles, waving goodbye to a client, before walking out to meet you.

“Hello, sweetheart.” His smile is contagious. You like to pass by him before going to work everyday because seeing someone be so happy and positive every single day is exactly what you need. “How was the beach today?”

“I had to drag her out of there before she got into the water.” He laughs, crouching down to pet Daisy and, in return, she licks his face.

Fred laughs and stands up, grabbing a bouquet of tulips. “These are for the shop,” He says before turning around and grabbing a single sunflower. “and this for you.”

Fred is a French man in his fifties that came to Australia following the love of his life. He didn’t have a plan, he just left everything behind; they’ve been married for thirty years.

“Always so sweet, Fred.” You place a kiss on his cheek, waving goodbye with the promise to bring some coffee for him later. He watches you walk away with that same big smile on his face.

You open the door of Brew’d Awakening, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries welcoming you, as well as the bulldog resting next to the door.

“Hello to you too, Roscoe.” He huffs like telling you to hurry up. You let Daisy go and she immediately finds comfort next to Roscoe.

There aren’t many people — it is still pretty early — just a couple of regulars that like to grab their first cup of coffee before heading to work or the beach.

As you make your way to the counter, you find Kika sitting at one of the tables enjoying a cup of coffee while typing away on her laptop.

“What are you doing here so early?” You ask, plopping down on a chair next to her.

“Lewis wanted to discuss some things about the social media content,” She leans slightly to give your cheek a kiss. “and you’re meeting my boyfriend today.”

You gasp, turning to look at her with wide and surprised eyes. “What do you mean I’m meeting him?”

“I told you he’s gonna spend the summer here.”

“Yes, but I also remember you telling me that he had to go back?” Daisy nudges your leg with her nose, and you immediately know what she wants. “So, he’s back then?” Kika hums while you look for Daisy’s plushie in your bag.

“He’s coming because I left some things at his apartment.”

“So that’s why you didn’t come home last night.” She blushes, sticking her tongue out. “Whore.” Kika gasps, hitting you in the arm.

“Hello, pretty ladies.” Your co-worker, who practically lives in your apartment now, leaves an iced latte in front of you.

You take a sip of the drink, looking directly into his eyes. “I’m surprised I didn’t hear you sneak out this morning.”

“What do you mean? I wasn’t there this morning.”

“Alex, I literally heard you and Lily laughing at three in the morning,” Alex groans, sitting in front of you.

“In my defense,” He points a finger at you and really tries to think of something, but comes out with nothing. “Whatever, you like me too much to kick me out.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right.” You stand up when the door opens and a new customer enters.

“Good morning, kid.” Lewis gives you a pat on the back when you join him behind the counter, you kiss his cheek in return.

You spend the morning taking care of the customers while Alex and Lewis are responsible of preparing and serving the orders. It is a quiet and nice morning, like most Saturdays are, and you love it. You owe Kika everything, because if it weren’t for her you wouldn’t have found the coffee shop in the first place. She recommended you and it was all Lewis and Nico needed to hire you.

Lewis and Nico are a gay couple that, just like you, decided to settle down in Australia after traveling to different parts of the world. They opened Brew’d Awakening just five years ago but it’s going so well they have the opportunity to expand, but refuse to do it, knowing that the warmth and coziness of the Brew’d will be lost. You respect them for that.

You’re about to swap shifts with Alex when Kika shows up in front of you, a shy smile on her face.

“He’s here. I like him, okay? So, be nice.”

“I’m always nice!” You exclaim a little offended.

“I know, sorry. It’s just — I’m nervous.” She looks around before leaning closer. “He brought his friends because apparently we’re doing this ‘trade’ thing where I meet his friends and he meets mine.”

You hold your laugh, “Cute.”

“Stop making fun of me and come here or I’ll go mad.”

“I’m taking my break, is that okay?” You ask your boss, at which he nods, giving you a thumbs up.

You take off your apron as you walk around the counter. Kika is waiting for you in the middle of the shop, looking like a nervous wreck.

“I’ve never seen you so nervous before.” You place a hand on her shoulder, massaging to help her relax a little.

“Meeting the friends is a big deal.”

Well, she is right. You just didn’t realize how serious her relationship actually was until now.

Daisy wags her tail as she makes her way to you. And you immediately lean forward to scratch behind her ears.

You’re too busy to pay attention to the guy wrapping his arms around your friend and kissing her lips as a greeting. It is only when Kika clears her throat, kicking your leg to draw your attention, that you force yourself to let Daisy go.

“This is Pierre.” She says as you straighten back up. “Pierre, this is my friend Y/N.”

You look at the guy in front of you for a couple of seconds. His blue eyes are a little too familiar, but the more you try to remember from where you know him, the more you think that is probably just a coincidence.

“Oh my God, you’re Y/N!” Pierre laughs, making you and Kika frown. “This is fantastic.”

“What is fantastic?” A voice draws your attention, making you look behind Pierre.

Your heart skips a beat the second you see a pair of green eyes.

The green eyes of the surfer boy you met a few weeks ago at the beach.

Charles; who you never saw again.

It turns out that Charles wasn’t at the beach the next morning. You sat on the sand longer than necessary, thinking that maybe he was running late. But he never came. You didn’t see his friends either, so you simply picked up what was left of your dignity and walked back to your apartment with Daisy by your side.

The morning after that you decided to confront him, but he wasn’t there.

He never showed up at the beach again. And for a minute you thought it was all in your head, but that option was discarded when you bumped into the group of teenage girls sitting on the sand, wondering why the hot guys weren’t there.

At least you weren’t the only one looking for them.

You hadn’t thought about Charles in several days.

And now he’s standing in front of you with a big smile on his handsome face.

Ugh, you had forgotten the dimples.

“Y/N?” He asks, taking a step forward. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here.” You mutter bitterly, not wanting to engage in a conversation with him.

It’s childish, you have to admit it, but why is he gonna ask to see you just to not show up? And, okay, you were going to the beach the next day either way but you got all excited for nothing. You really wanted to get to know him, maybe even ask for his number. He seemed like a nice guy and his accent made butterflies erupt in your belly. But that was before he stood you up.

Kika looks between you and Charles with a confused expression on her face. You make the mistake of making eye contact with her because the next moment she’s gasping, her eyes wide as she finally puts the pieces together.

“Charles is the boy you met at the beach?!” You want to cover her mouth with your hand but you can barely move. You love her, you really do, but right now you want her to shut up.

Even from a distance, you can see the way his blush spreads over his cheeks. Charles runs a hand through his hair. You would pay a million dollars just to tangle your fingers in it to see if it is as soft as it looks.

You’re dragged back to the present when the doors open and Charles’ friends walk inside.

“Oi look who’s here!” One of his friends says — the curly-haired one — and they wave in your direction before walking to a nearby table. Daisy recognizes them, even though they were barely a few minutes in her presence, and she walks over to them.

“Nice to meet you, Pierre.” You plaster on a smile, turning to face him and Kika. “I wish I could stay and get to know you better, but I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” Pierre smirks, nodding along. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to get back to work.”

You walk back to the counter without looking at Charles again. Lewis looks at you with a raised brow and you shrug, that must have been the shortest break of all times.

You’re putting on your apron in front of the cash register, a line of customers ready to order, when you see Charles joining the line and waiting for his turn.

“Is that Kika’s boyfriend?” Alex whispers next to you while making an order. You look at where they’re sitting, the same table where all of Pierre and Charles’ friends are. They’re actually cute, unable to keep their hands to themselves.

You nod, busy writing the last order. “Hi, welcome to Brew’d Awakening, what can I get for you?” When you look up you’re met with Charles' blushed face, a small smile directed at you.

“Can we talk?” He looks genuinely nervous, and you feel a little guilty for making him feel that way. He’s the last one in line, so you nod. “I’m really sorry,” Charles breathes, closing his eyes. “I really wanted to be there the next morning but Pierre had to fly back to France and I couldn’t leave him alone.”

Your expression softens. He didn’t mean to stand you up then.

“We came back literally two days ago.”

You feel really bad now.

“Oh my God,” You let out a laugh, feeling embarrassed and so, so guilty. “I’m sorry. I guess I was a little hurt because I thought you stood me up — not that it was a date and we explicitly agreed to see each other.” You feel blood rushing to your face.

“I wanted to text you but I didn’t have your number,” Charles frowns, a nervous smile dancing on his lips. “and I couldn’t find you on Instagram.”

Your entire body shivers and the corners of your mouth curl up. “You really looked me up on Instagram?”

“Yea’,” He chuckles, shrugging. “I wanted—no, I want to know you. You are really pretty—cool, I mean.”

“So you don’t think I’m pretty?” You lean forward, hands resting on the counter and supporting your weight.

Charles' cheeks heat up as he tries to think of something to say, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

You take him out of his misery by giving him a little push on the shoulder.

“I’m joking.”

Charles looks at you for a second, and then says, “You are. Pretty, I mean.”

It is your turn to blush furiously. You have to look away if you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him.

“Are you gonna order or not?”

You both turn to look at the person standing behind Charles, clearly annoyed for having to wait too long. He apologizes before turning back to you.

“I’m gonna,” He points to the table where his friends are, and you nod, disappointed for being interrupted.

It’s a little awkward because he stands there for a whole minute just looking at you before waving goodbye and walking away.

The customer clears his throat and you’re dragged back to the present one more time.

You hear Alex and Lewis laughing behind you.

“Hey, we’re going to the club tonight.” Kika says as you clock out.

“Who is we?” You ask, grabbing your purse and the iced latte you made for the ride home.

“Pierre and a couple of his friends,” She takes a sip of her own matcha latte and sits on the counter. “You, Lily, Alex.” Kika pokes Alex’s ribs, who’s cleaning the counter next to her.

You chew on your bottom lip, the question is hanging from your tongue but you’re not able to voice it out. Kika must see the struggle on your face.

“Charles is coming too.” She has a knowing look on her face, but doesn’t make fun of you or ask what is going on with his boyfriend’s best friend. “So, are you coming?” She knows you’re going even before you nod your approval. “Someone left this for you.”

Kika hands you a napkin with a number written on it, a “Charles x” underneath a phone number.

Your heart starts hammering in your chest and you waste no time in pulling your phone out of your pocket to save his contact. You hesitate whether to message him or not when, suddenly, your screen lights up with a new message.

If you can’t stop smiling on the way home from the coffee shop and while you get ready for a night out, nobody (besides Kika) needs to know.

On the way to the club you think about every little moment and decision that has led you here, to this uber with your friends ready to spend a good night with new friends, and a pretty guy who’s clearly very interested in you. If someone would’ve told you two years ago that this was going to be your life, you would’ve laughed.

You feel nervous, getting out of the car and walking into one of your favorite clubs in the city.

The first thing you notice is the mass of people dancing along to the loud music. You think you’re gonna make your way to the bar as you always do the minute you walk inside but, instead, Kika guides you to where all the VIP booths are, near the back of the club and the DJ.

“Baby!” Pierre shouts over the music, drink in one hand. “And baby’s friends!”

“Oh my God, I think he’s already drunk.” Kika groans, making her way to her boyfriend and kissing his cheek before whispering something in his ear that makes Pierre blush. Okay, gross.

There are a lot of people in the booth. You recognize some of Charles’ friends and a few other people you’ve never seen before. Everyone’s talking with everyone and you’re wondering what to do when someone places a hand on your back.

“I was waiting for you.” Charles whispers with a low voice, and you feel weak in the knees immediately.

You turn around to face him and are blinded by his bright dimpled-smile.

“Hi.” You say, looking into those two green orbs you’ve missed. Just a little. “All my friends dumped me,” Looking behind Charles’ shoulder, you see Lily and Alex making out in the middle of the dancefloor, while Kika is sitting next to her boyfriend and talking with some of his friends. “so you’re stuck with me for the whole night.”

“Ugh,” Charles says, bringing his hand to his heart and pretending to be affected. “that’s horrible. Stuck with a pretty girl all night? I’ll just have to deal with it.”

You lean your shoulder into Charles’ side playfully and he moves a little closer, his hand still on your back. Apparently, blushing comes like a second nature to you ever since you met Charles.

“Wanna grab a drink?”

He doesn’t need to ask twice.

Charles guides you to the bar, keeping you close with his hand that has dropped from your back to your waist. His closeness is intoxicating and you can’t help but lean closer. Charles seems comfortable with the proximity, so you stay glued to his side as you walk to the bar, where you’re forced to pull away.

He asks the bartender for your drinks — after asking, very politely, what you’d like to drink — and leans against the counter with you by his side.

You tilt your head and observe him for a little while, Charles too busy grabbing your drinks to notice the attention. It is only when he turns to hand you the glass that he notices your gaze on him, his cheeks heating up immediately but his eye contact doesn’t waver. He just stands there with two drinks and people bumping into him, looking at you as if you’re the only person in the world.

You shake your head, grabbing your drink. “Thank you.”

You don’t really know how much time you spend at the bar chatting with Charles, but you don’t want it to end. Charles tells you about his life back in Monaco, you learn that he came very close to the racing world before his father passed away and he decided to quit — not his younger brother though, who is currently racing in Formula 1 — and dedicate his life to his other passion: architecture. And in return you tell Charles more about your decision to travel the world and not going to college, he shares some of your opinions and you’re surprised how easily you’re able to share things about your life with him.

“I don’t know where life would take me,” You take a sip of your second drink, resting your elbows on the counter. “but I’m happy where I am right now.”

“You should think about visiting Monaco, I’m sure you’ll fall in love with it.” Charles has a strange glint in his eyes that forces you to look away.

“Hey, lovebirds!” A guy throws his arms around yours and Charles’ shoulder. You recognize him as one of his beach friends.

“Dani.” Charles groans, but relaxes against his friend’s chest. “Where are Max and Lando?”

“With the DJ,” You both turn to look at the DJ booth, and right there next to him is Lando and, to his other side, the blonde guy you remember as Max. Both of them look very drunk. “Oscar wants to take them home but I said that as long as neither of them throws up, we’re good.”

Dani asks for a couple of drinks and makes small talk. He’s absolutely hilarious and doesn’t stop making fun of Charles.

“He kept asking us if we’d seen you. Every. Single. Day.” Charles pushes him away but that doesn’t stop him. “And sent like a thousand selfies pouting and trying to bribe us to look for you around the city.”

“Daniel!” Charles exclaims, mortified. He squeezes his eyes shut and drops his head forward.

Dani just laughs and, once his drinks are ready, walks away. Still making fun of his friend.

“It’s cute.” You confess, feeling brave enough to lift his chin up with your hand. “I’m glad you were trying to find me, even though I thought you had forgotten about me.”

“How could I?” He smiles, his dimples on full display. “Afraid of sounding like a complete psychopath, I’m gonna confess that the only thing on my mind while I was away was our interaction at the beach.” His cheeks are blushed as he plays with the buttons of his shirt. “And how sorry I was for not asking for your number.”

You’re one second away from falling to the floor and melting onto it.

Charles is definitely not helping with the racing of your heart and the need to be a normal and a functional person.

“I’m sorry,” Charles’ voice is gentle.

“Don’t be,” You place a hand on his forearm and squeeze softly before letting go. “Afraid of sounding like a complete psychopath,” You repeat his exact same words which makes him laugh, his whole face lighting up. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it either. Well, until I was beginning to get angry at myself for thinking about it even after you stood me up.”

Charles groans, putting his face in his hands.

“I’ve a lot to make up for.”

He looks back up and you make eye contact until Charles glances down at your lips, then back up at your eyes. And the room suddenly feels too crowded and too hot.

“You’ll have plenty of time for that.”

𓇼 — WAVE OF YOU, TAGLIST: @lovrsm @itsjustkhaos @evie-119 @sadbeautifuleva @c4tc0re @sargeantdumbass @brune77e @arian-directioner @lavisenri @starsnxva @a1leexxa @therealcap @anniee-mr @kakorrhaphiophobia @madd1115 @toxicdreamer296 @coffeebae0 @tempo-rary-fix @luca-is-a-pengu @charleslover24 @vettelsbees @iienstein @mehrmonga @ferraridepartment @fictional-l0v3r. 𓇼 [cursive means i couldn't tag you]

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#𓇼 — series: wave of you.#f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #f1 grid x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc smau

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annwrites · 26 days

Text

exactly what he needs, pt. 2 ♡ ⋆｡˚ | pt 1 | pt3 | pt 4

— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

— type: ficlet (multi-chapter)

— summary: you & nate hang out in your room (after he snoops through it right in front of you), then ask each other questions, & he dresses & does your hair before you head out to spend the evening together.

— tags: conversing, getting to know one another

— tw: sexualization, lying (nate manipulating the truth), dollification

— word count: 6.2k

— a/n: I edited this numerous times, but fucked myself over by writing part 1 in present-tense to begin with, which I'm not always great at. So, if I messed up the tenses anywhere, please ignore it. Going forward, I'll probably be publishing further installments in past-tense.

Next post will be reader & Nate going shopping & having dinner!

The next morning when you wake, it only takes a few minutes for you to remember that Nate will be there in a little less than an hour, and the nerves immediately set in.

Surely people will see you getting out of his truck. What will they think?

You shake your head. It doesn't matter. Not really, anyway. You don't much care what any one person of the student population thinks of you.

You know high school is just a blip—a very brief moment in time, where it seems like every little thing you experience can be the end of the world, but it's really all just the beginning.

People will think whatever they like. It's not your job to try and change their minds. Not that trying to do as much would work anyway.

Once you've quickly showered, dressed, pulled your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your way, and eaten breakfast, you don't even have time to wait by the door as Nate's truck pulls up. You quickly pull on a pair of boots and step outside, locking the door behind you.

When you look up, your stomach does a flip when you see Nate holding the passenger-side door open for you.

You walk over to him. "You don't have to get my door for me, you know."

He shrugs, taking your backpack from you, setting it in the backseat with his. "I want to."

You tell him thank you as you climb inside and he shuts the door behind you.

Once you're on the road, he's the first to break the silence. "You can listen to whatever you want on the radio."

In truth, it's a bit too early for music for you. "I'm ok."

"Did you eat already?"

You nod. "I had a bowl of cereal."

He gives a slight frown. Not a very healthy start to your day. Something full of sugar.

"Do you want me to pick you up something on the way?"

Your eyes go wide. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though. It's nice of you to offer."

He decides tomorrow he's bringing you breakfast, and he won't be asking for permission beforehand.

You're both silent again for a moment and the truck slows as he pulls up to a red light. He briefly wonders if you know how to drive. If not, he'd be a more than willing teacher.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something personal. If you do, just tell me to fuck off and you don't have to answer."

You look at him. "Ok..."

The light turns green and the truck picks up speed again. "I noticed neither of your parents were home yesterday. Were they both at work?"

You grow quiet for a moment, a pregnant pause settling between the two of you as you look out the window at the passing houses.

"My dad was...is. He travels a lot for work, so he's not home much."

He nods, deeming it good news, at least for him. "And your mom?"

You're quiet for even longer this time. Then, "I've never met her."

Minus Lexi, you've already divulged more to him in that short sentence than you have to anyone else at East Highland.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He's not sure that he means it. He despises both of his parents and, if anything, in this moment, is envious of you, due to your lack of relationship with both of yours.

You shrug. "It's fine."

He wants more than just 'it's fine'. He wants to know more, as it's clear it's something which bothers you. He wants you to give him emotional vulnerability for just a moment. Something he can use in the future to work his way in closer to you.

"Do you know anything about her?"

You shake your head. "My dad refuses to talk about her. After a few fights when I was younger where I tried to get him to, I gave up. It's probably for the best. She made her choice, and I think me knowing anything about her would just make things...more difficult. My life, I mean."

Even if you still felt like you were chasing shadows sometimes.

He nods. If nothing else, it's one less person he'll have to go through to be with you. Two less, from the sound of things.

Finally, he turns into the school parking lot, taking his usual spot and he shuts the truck off.

"I'll get your door for you," he states before getting out.

You unbuckle yourself, not sure what to think of his insistence with the whole door thing. It just doesn't seem to be something men much concern themselves with anymore—getting a girl's door for her—at least not teenage boys, that is. But perhaps he's different. Maybe it's just the way he was raised.

Nate opens your door and grabs his backpack, sliding it over his shoulders, then grabbing yours as well.

You get out and go to take it from him, but he continues holding it.

"Turn around."

Your brows furrow for a moment, but do as he's asked. You quickly realize what he's doing and adjust your arms as he slides your bag onto your back. He's really going the extra mile to be a gentleman, you think.

Once the truck's doors are closed and he's locked the vehicle, he places his hand against the small of your back as you walk into school together.

You look perfectly calm on the outside, but on the inside, your anxiety levels are rising with each pair of eyes turning your and Nate's way.

When you spot Lexi, the look on her face is nothing short of bewildered. Next to her sits Cassie, who's fuming.

You're torn away from looking in their direction by Nate coming to stand in front of you. "See you in third period."

You nod and give him a small smile, going to sit with Lexi, despite Cassie giving you that same glare from yesterday. A worse one, really.

"What the hell was that?" Lexi asks, her tone full of concern as you sit down beside her, setting your bag on the table.

"Nothing. He just drove me to school, that's all."

"And home," Cassie says, voice full of malice.

Lexi looks from her sister, then back to you. "The two of you are not hooking up."

You flush. "No. He just gave me a ride, that's all."

"Ok, but why would he do that? The two of you never talk. You're not even friends."

You do your best to ignore Cassie's unsettling stare.

"I'm just—" You immediately shut your mouth. You should've thought further ahead, should've thought about what excuse you would give people when they inevitably ask why the two of you are hanging out all of a sudden.

Nate asked you to keep it a secret and you aren't about to betray his confidence. If you do, you're sure he'll fail and never bother asking for help again.

"Just what?" Lexi prods.

"We're just hanging out. It's not a big deal. I promise."

Suddenly, Cassie stands, angrily grabbing her bag, jerking it off the table and storming away.

Lexi rolls her eyes. "Just ignore her. I don't know why she's still hung up on him, anyway. He treated her like crap." She shifts in her seat, facing fully toward you now. "What I can believe even less, however, is the fact you're giving him the time of day. He's an asshole. He was abusive toward Maddy and wanted to keep screwing Cassie so long as she kept it a secret. He uses people, Y/N."

Abusive? You knew he and Maddy had argued quite a bit, but nothing that severe.

"What do you mean by abusive?"

She shrugs. "I don't know much, since she and Cassie obviously aren't friends anymore. But I know a good portion of it, at least, was emotional. Maybe verbal, too. Then again, I don't think she was any better." Lexi glances behind you, and you don't dare turn around, now worried the subject of your conversation is who she's looking at. "She gives as good as she gets."

Once the school day is over and you go to drop off your books at your locker, you find Nate leaning up against it.

He smiles when he sees you and you give him a shy smile in return.

You put your things away, then look to Nate.

In truth, what Lexi told you had gotten to you a bit. You try to tell yourself that it's all nothing more than hearsay, and you're only tutoring—not dating him—so whatever had occurred between he and Maddy and Cassie is none of your concern.

"You ready?"

You nod, and, just like this morning, he places his hand firmly against your back.

Once you're in his truck, you notice Maddy staring at you today, just a few cars away. She and Kat are both looking in your direction, Maddy clearly getting worked up and Kat obviously trying to calm her down, and your eyes widen when she begins heading in Nate's direction.

Before she can reach him, however, he gets in the truck and pulls out of the lot, leaving her standing there, staring after the two of you.

You're glad whatever was about to happen has just been avoided.

Over the next week, you and Nate go to your house every day after school to study. You gradually get to know more about one another, like you learning he has a brother—which you'd somehow managed to forget over the years—and he tells you how passionate he is about personal fitness, something to which you don't much relate.

It'd been abundantly clear since day one that he dislikes his father. But that dislike—even if he talks about him very little—clearly, somewhere along the way, became loathing. It's all in the tone he uses, the language he uses when he's brought up.

But the thing that always seems to calm him—make him happier—is talking about you.

He asks you every question in the book: favorite food, color, flower, song, type of music, art, what you want to be when you graduate, the kind of house you want to live in. The list is endless.

And then the day came when he asked to see your room, with you standing awkwardly in the doorway as he surveys every inch.

He starts with your bed, your fluffy white comforter with small pink flowers printed across it, and your plethora of pillows. And then he notices the small brown teddy bear leaned back against said pillows. He briefly picks it up, smirking to himself, then looking at you.

“Do you sleep with this?”

Your face goes blood-red. “Y-yes.”

He studies it for a moment longer, making a mental note to one day buy you one himself, wanting you to sleep with one that’s come from him instead.

In truth, while you think about you sleeping with a stuffed animal as embarrassing—at least for another person to now know about—it’s a major fucking turn-on for him. You’re that innocent that you still sleep with a teddy.

He sets it back down, throwing a “that’s very sweet” your way before moving on to your bookshelves.

Not that he’s read or heard of the grand majority of the novels you have, he can tell by the titles and covers alone that they’re all either romance or fantasy. He supposes he understands that: you trying to escape through stories. Stories where you can go somewhere else, be someone else. Have a new family, new friends.

And then he thinks it incredibly sad—just how lonely you are.

It’s not like he isn’t already aware of it, because he is—has became more and more so as the last week has gone on. Everyday he’s come to your house it’s been empty. But to see your shelves crammed full of books—your one attempt at escaping into a better life—he vows in that moment to start working faster at bringing the two of you together into a relationship.

You need him.

You like stories about princesses trapped in towers and white knights coming to save them? Then that’s exactly what he’ll be for you. He’ll rescue you from the lonely hell you’re living in and give himself to you fully. He’ll dedicate all of his time that he can to you. And he plans to spoil you fucking rotten.

He looks over the various trinkets you have set on—and on top of—those shame shelves. Porcelain figurines of unicorns and cats, a small jeweled crown, some candles and a few faux plants.

He turns back to you. “Which one is your favorite?”

You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “The Lord of the Rings, actually. I…I really like Éowyn and Faramir’s story.”

He nods.

He’s never watched the movies, and has obviously never read the book, so he makes a mental note to at least do some reading on the characters you’ve mentioned to understand you better.

He then looks over your entertainment center and the small collection of DVDs you have alphabetically organized in one of the cubbies. Beauty and the Beast, Ever After, Stardust, The Last Unicorn, The Princess Bride, among a few others.

He then steps over to your closet and pulls the doors open without even asking your permission first.

You don’t much react to him doing so, supposing that everything in there you’ve worn to school at some point anyway.

He’s met with skirts and sweaters and dress blouses. Another thing he’s going to have to change—your wardrobe. It isn’t exactly “frumpy”, but it isn’t feminine enough for his taste, either. He wants your clothes to reflect who you truly are. Sun and baby doll dresses, and tennis skirts with the right pretty tops will suit you far better. Sandals and delicate flats. Your hair curled and actually down for once, perhaps with a bow in it. And he’ll buy you a few nice pieces of expensive jewelry as well. Maybe take you on a shopping trip to Tiffany one day.

He closes the doors in front of him.

What he really wants is to go through not just your bedside table, but also the top drawers of your dresser. He's curious if you've ventured into the territory of lingerie and sex-toys yet. And if so, what your preferences are.

He doesn't like to imagine you using more than a vibrator on your clit to get yourself to orgasm. As for lingerie, he doubts that you own any, but he often pictures you in lacy panties and pastel teddy nightgowns.

He adds such things to his mental shopping list of things to one day buy you.

Speaking of orgasms, however, he'd come thinking of you nearly every night for the past week.

He imagined you on his bed, naked, your pussy soaked for him, your legs spread wide as he teased you until you were begging for him to put himself inside of you.

He imagined all the things he'd teach you in bed, sure that you're inexperienced.

And only after you promised him that you're his—belonged to him and wanted no one and nothing else but him—did he finally join your two bodies together.

Finally, he sits on the edge of your bed. He then glances to the chair which hangs from the ceiling in the back left corner of your room, directly facing where he now sits.

You walk over, sitting in it.

He then lays back on your bed, feet still planted firmly on the floor, arms folded behind his head—God, he’s so tall.

“Do you not get lonely here?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.

You lift one of your socked-feet onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your bent knee. You shrug.

He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”

Your brows furrow. “Do what?”

“Act like you being left alone all the time doesn’t matter. It matters; you matter.”

You remain quiet. Then, “I’m used to it. I like being alone.”

He refuses to believe that, knows it’s bullshit.

You’d only spent a week together, and only a little over an hour every day at that, but it’d not taken but a couple of days for you to—at times—talk his ear off. At one point, it’d nearly gotten on his last nerve, until his stomach dropped and heart broke when he realized why: how fucking long had it been since you’d had someone—anyone—to really talk to? Someone who bothered to truly listen? How long had you stayed silent, withdrawing further and further into yourself, until you’d built up an entire fantasy world within your mind and soul, which became your new reality?

And so he promised to himself—and mentally to you—that he’d never, even if it were true—tell you he doesn’t care what you have to say. He won’t be just one more person to hurt and let you down. Just like he knows you won’t be as much to him.

You’re good for him. He could tell as much from the first day he spoke to you.

He stares at you for a moment, making you squirm. “I don’t believe that.”

“Ok.” You don’t particularly feel like arguing. He can believe whatever he wishes.

He frowns. He dislikes that you don’t seem to much care what his opinion of you is. He supposes it’s a strange dichotomy. Going from Cassie who, it was all she cared about, to you, who clearly can’t care less.

“You’re really telling me that talking to barely anyone at school, except occasionally Lexi, and being alone in this house all the time doesn’t ever get to you?”

You shrug. “It’s just what I’m used to.”

In all the talking to him you’d done over the past week, all of it had been surface-level. About history or the new book you were reading, or something you’d read in a news article. None of it was actually truly about you.

If his plan to get in deeper with you—to know you like no other person on the planet does—is going to work, then you need to give him more.

“What if it wasn’t?”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs, looking up to the ceiling. “What if we started hanging out more often than just when we study after school? We could text or something, too.”

You appreciate his being concerned for you, you think it really kind of him. Even if makes you the least bit uncomfortable. You tell yourself it’s simply because it’s something you’re not used to: someone showing genuine concern for you.

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

He looks at you again. “You wouldn’t be. I like spending time with you.”

You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say thanks.

“I feel like for the last week I’ve done nothing but ask you questions about yourself. Is there anything you want to know about me?”

He’ll never admit it, but your lack of interest in him hurts his feelings. It makes him feel like you aren’t nearly as attracted to him as he is to you.

“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He smirks. So that’s why. Always so fucking considerate; his sweet girl.

“You won’t.”

You think for a moment. The things you really want to ask him about are too personal this early on (even if you’d told yourself such things were none of your business, you can’t help wanting answers). Like why he despises his dad so much, and what happened with him and Maddy and Cassie. And what happened at that New Year’s party which landed him in the hospital?

You start smaller. “What made you want to play football?”

He considers giving you some bullshit answer—which will seem a plausible enough explanation—and giving you the actual truth. Finally, he decides on both. “It gives me something to do, for one. A reason to push myself harder. It gives me something to focus on. And football is a contact sport. So when I’m pissed off, I finally have something to take it out on.”

“Like when you’re angry with your dad?”

He grows silent.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

He shakes his head. “It’s ok. It’s not like I’ve exactly been subtle about my dislike of him.”

He doesn’t elaborate further than that.

“So…what’s your favorite color?”

He laughs. “I don’t know. Black, I guess.”

Somehow it seems fitting for him.

He looks at you, able to read you. “But that’s not the kind of question you want to be asking, is it?”

“I don’t want to overstep boundaries.”

He leans up on one elbow. “Then how about we make it fair? You ask me one actually personal question, and then I ask you one. And we both have to answer. No matter what. As soon as one of us refuses to, I head home.”

You think about it for a moment, worried about the sorts of things he may ask, but you have an out. “Deal.”

He smiles. “Alright, ladies first.”

“Will you tell me what happened during New Year’s?”

He sits up fully then. “Fezco smashed a bottle over my head, then beat me within an inch of my life. He got the upper hand immediately by doing what he did with the liquor bottle. He almost fucking killed me, all for a worthless druggy.”

Your brows furrow. “Who?”

“Rue went to him with some made-up story about me harassing her and some friend of hers online. When in reality I want nothing to do with her. So then he threatened to kill me and finally fucking tried to.”

“Why would she do something like that?” It feels like he isn’t giving you the whole story. He’s laid out the edges of a puzzle, but is withholding the middle.

He shrugs. “She’s a drug addict, how should I know?”

Before you can reply, can think of a polite way to say: so what’s the real story here, he takes his turn.

“How come we were never friends?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve known each other since we were five-years-old. We grew up together, have known each other for over a decade now. And only in the last week have we really finally talked, or spent any amount of time together.”

You lean back in your seat. “Well, just because you grow up with someone doesn’t mean that fact has to serve as some prerequisite to becoming best friends or something. Sometimes people, even from a young age, just don’t click. You were always running around on the playground, playing sports with others. I was always sitting off to the side and reading or coloring or playing with toys. I guess you were just more outgoing than me.”

“You know what they say: opposites attract.”

You tell yourself he’s just referring to friendship.

He lays back again. “Well, it may’ve only taken eleven years, but we’re friends now. I just… I just wonder what things might’ve been like had it happened sooner.” He sighs, then, “Your turn again.”

To an extent, you wonder that, too. Mostly just what it would’ve been like to have a best friend for that long.

“What happened between you, Maddy, and Cassie?”

“Not going to give me an easy one, huh?”

You let out a small laugh.

“Me and Maddy had been together since sophomore year. I guess we just grew comfortable with one another, even if we weren’t always happy. Even if it wasn’t always healthy. It didn’t start out toxic. We were happy at first. For awhile. A long while. But she just…it was like she wasn’t pleased unless we were fighting and then making up.

“It was just a constant cycle of her beating me down, then trying to build me back up again through sex. She just…she made me feel like shit about myself. As both her boyfriend and a man. It was like it wasn’t bad enough: the shit I dealt with at home with my dad. She just had to become one more problem in my life that I was forced to deal with.

“I’d hoped that if I loved her hard enough, if I gave her enough, she’d love me back the way I wanted to be loved. The way I loved her. Turns out I was just a fucking idiot.”

Tears sting your eyes. You feel so sorry for him. To be so young and to have already known an emotionally abusive relationship was heartbreaking. It was one reason why you refused to date at such a young age. You were all too young to understand yourselves, nevermind another person. Not in the context of loving and taking care of them, at least. You all were barely even fully-formed people yet.

So that was what Lexi had been referring to before. Just like everything, there were always two sides.

“And Cassie?” You ask, softly.

A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Just a giant fucking mistake. We first hooked up a couple weeks after Maddy and I had broken up…again. It happened on New Year’s Eve. I just…maybe I was trying to get even for what Maddy had done to me at the beginning of the school year—fucking a guy in the pool at McKay’s house—right in front of everyone.

"And then we hung out more, and at first I thought she was different. Maybe better for me. Until she started blowing up my phone with hundreds of calls and texts, screaming one night in my room about how crazy she was, how she’d never let me be with anyone else. How she was better for me than all the rest.”

Your brows raise. That unhinged? Cassie had always seemed so sweet and demure to you. But you’d also hardly ever been around her outside of school.

And dating—being in relationships—seemed to sometimes bring out the worst in people. Facets they themselves didn’t even know they had.

“I’m sorry, Nate. I never knew Cassie was so…” You trail off, until he fills in the rest for you.

“Psychotic?”

You laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it like that, but…” You shift legs, wrapping your arms around your other one now. “Your turn.”

He remains lying back, wanting this question to come off as something he’s casually asking. Whereas, in reality, he’ll be holding onto every word of your answer.

“Have you ever dated before?”

You feel like you suddenly want to use your out, but refrain. It’s a simple enough question, with a simple answer. “No.”

He looks over at you. “Never?”

You shake your head. “Nu-uh.”

His brows raise. He’d never known you to have a boyfriend before, but until recently he’d not exactly kept tabs on you.

It surprises him.

“Have you never kissed anyone or had sex?” He prays the answer to both is no. Also hopes you don’t cut his questioning you short.

You’re quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring at one another. Until, finally, you decide to answer. “No. And I’m not ashamed to say it. Not having done either of those things is a choice, just like having done them is as well.”

He sits up, hunching over to try and hide the erection he can feel forming.

No one has ever been inside of you—not in your mouth, not in your pussy, and not in your ass. Another pair of lips have never even touched your own, another tongue has never tasted you. Another pair of eyes has never explored your lovely naked body.

He wants to know what you do, then, to satiate yourself when the mood strikes. Do you rub at your clit until you come? Do you finger yourself—he wonders if your hymen is still intact? Do you bunch a pillow up between your legs, humping it until you've finished and the case is soaked? Or do you take and rub your teddy against your wet, needy pussy until you’re sore and can’t take it anymore?

God he wants to know what you fucking taste like. Wants to feel your fingers in his hair as he goes down on you. Needs to know what your perfect pussy feels like around his cock.

But he knows it’s too soon for any of that. For you, at least.

“That’s not something to be ashamed of. Not nowadays. You should be proud of yourself for having held out this long. I admire it.”

You shrug. “It’s not that hard to do.”

He smirks. “That’s because you’ve never done it before. Once you’ve been with someone in that way…giving up that kind of intimacy is difficult.”

You think any kind of intimacy must be hard to let go of after having it. Whether it’s emotional, intellectual, physical…sexual. Maybe it’s one more reason you keep most people at arm’s-length. If you never let anyone in, then you’ll never have to worry about losing them.

You clear your throat. “My turn.”

He lays back again.

“Can I ask about your dad?”

He flexes his jaw. “What about him?”

“Why do you hate him so much?”

There’s a long pause and then he finally sits up. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”

You plant both of your feet on the floor, now sitting on the edge of your swing-chair. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I was just curious. Since he always seems so…perfect, you hating him, I guess, is just a source of confusion for me. Then again, maybe that perfection is the source of it: your hate. I don’t know.”

“That’s part of it. But not all.” And that’s all the answer he’s willing to give you.

Letting onto his hate for his father in the first place was a mistake. But that loathing sometimes seeped out. And he feels like he can be honest with you. He trusts you. So, sometimes he lets go a little. That lid he keeps so tightly screwed slips loose sometimes in your presence.

He stands and you fill with guilt.

You’d gone too far. You’d known better—that asking about his father would end up being a mistake—but you’d brought him up anyway. And now you’d ruined the day.

“You really don’t have to leave. We can talk about something else?”

He pretends to consider that for a moment. When in reality, he’s all too-pleased that you’re so eager for him to stay.

Then, he steps over to you, standing in front of your seat, towering over you as you look up at him. He briefly thinks that this would be a perfect position for the both of you to be in as you take him into your mouth.

Then, he kneels down. One week was all it had taken for you to bring him to his knees.

He reaches up, grabbing either of the ropes the chair hangs from from on either side of you. “It’s Friday.”

You smile nervously. “That’s very observant of you.”

He smiles, letting out a small chuckle. “I just mean that it’s only four o’ clock; still early. We could go do something together.”

He begins to lightly swing you, just barely.

“Like what?” You ask quietly.

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I could take you to dinner, take you shopping. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, even if you just want to drive around.”

You don’t know how to respond to his offer. “You don’t have anywhere else you need to be?”

“Not at all.” He wants so desperately to touch you, but he sees you like a newborn fawn, easily frightened; skittish. So he refrains. For now at least.

You glance to the set of glass doors beside the two of you which lead into your backyard. At the sun still high in the sky and tree branches blowing lightly in the wind. And then you look back to Nate, seeing no good reason to waste such a beautiful day cooped up inside.

“Okay.”

He smiles. “Good.” He stands, offering you his hand.

You take it, doing the same. “I’ll just be a minute, I need to change again. Don’t really want to go out in sweats.”

He nods, going to leave, then stops by your closet. He pulls the doors open and you watch as he pulls out a light-pink sundress, then turns back to you, holding it out in your direction.

“You don’t have to wear it, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on you at school before. Just thought it might look nice.”

You gently take the dress from him.

He speaks before you can tell him no. “I’ll be waiting in the living room. Take your time.”

Once the door has shut behind him, you look down at the dress in your hands, then at the things you usually wear—the clothes you feel most comfortable in—beckoning you from your closet.

While you dress, Nate leans back on the couch, hoping you wear what he’s picked out for you. In truth, he wants to dress every inch of you. He wants to do your hair, your makeup—even if you never wear any. He wants to pick out a cute matching pair of lingerie for you—so only he knows what’s under your clothes—your shoes, your jewelry, even your perfume.

He isn’t sure why it means so much to him—perhaps it’s just another thing he feels the need to have control over. He wants you to look nice. He knows you’re capable of matching his ideal picture of what he wants you to be in his head.

When you finally emerge from your bedroom fifteen minutes later—you’d spent half of that time sitting on your bed considering putting the dress away—he’s left speechless.

You’d put on the dress, along with a cute pair of sandals, your toes already painted a pleasant shade of pink, which just so happens to match the item you’re now wearing. And between your breasts hangs a necklace.

You stand in the entryway awkwardly, one of your hands clutching your other arm. “I feel ridiculous,” you whisper, your face red.

He stands, coming to position himself in front of you. “You look beautiful.”

You’re surprised by his response. Wearing something which shows off so much of your body makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

You’d considered putting on a cardigan to cover your arms, but it’s almost ninety-degrees outside. So you decided against it.

He reaches around to the base of your ponytail, his thumb, index and middle finger gripping your hairband. “May I?” He asks, looking down at you.

You feel dumbstruck by the sensation of the base of your hair in his grip, so you just nod.

He gently pulls the band free, your hair falling over your shoulders and down your back, coming to rest just above your ass.

He’s never seen hair as long as yours before. Why the hell do you keep it up all the time?

He flexes his hand, the holder now firmly around his wrist and he reaches up with both of his hands, running his fingers through your soft hair, massaging your scalp as he styles it.

You just stare up at him, his face the picture of concentration as his fingers work against your head, through your long strands of hair. Your eyelids droop just a bit out of the feeling of relaxation that comes over you, goosebumps rising on your arms.

Nate takes note of that, as well as the quiet whimper in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against the base of your neck for just a moment. He likes that you like the way he’s touching you. He wants to know what other places his fingers and hands could explore that would get him similar results.

Finally, once he deems your hair presentable to his personal satisfaction, half of it falling down your back, the other half split evenly over both of your shoulders, he slips one hand into his pocket, the other coming to rest under your chin, making you look up at him again.

He feels blood rush to his cock at the flushed, lax look on your face as your hooded eyes stare up into his own.

“Why don’t you wear your hair down more often? It looks very pretty like this.”

“It gets in my way,” you state, your voice now having a dreamy quality to it.

He really likes you like this. All soft and submissive and dressed how he likes. He wants you wrapped around his finger sooner rather than later. Completely his in every single fucking way imaginable.

Today will be one step closer to getting that future.

He deems what you’ve said a good enough answer, but he knows you’ll have to get used to it. Your hair being down suits you far better than it being up.

He steps away, walking over to the door, holding it open for you.

Once you’ve locked it behind you, he holds open the passenger side door of his truck for you, same as always, shutting it firmly once you’re inside.

#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader)#nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs imagine #euphoria x reader

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rosielovesf1 · 3 months

Text

adventures in baby-sitting | LN4

sorry can't talk, at a tea party

word count: 1.1k

warnings: so. much. fluff.

author's note: thank y'all so much for the love on my last post!! sharing stuff i write has always been difficult for me, so it means a ton. hope you enjoy this one!!

“Maybe we should’ve chosen the pink one.”

“Lando, my love.” The corner of y/n's eyes crinkled as she turned to face her boyfriend. He was turning over a small stuffed dog in his hands, fiddling with the soft fluff on its ears. “She’s four and loves animals. She’s going to be ecstatic.”

He grunted and kept his gaze focused on the stuffed animal.

“You’re so cute,” she couldn’t help but laugh at him, even in his distressed state. He finally looked up and met her eyes at the soft touch of her fingers under his chin. “Don’t be nervous, lovie.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” he whined, despite melting into her touch. “I’ve been less nervous to walk into big meetings. I don’t know why the thought of Maisie not liking me is making me shit myself.”

“Because you have a huge heart, you’re kind and caring-” Lando’s eyes locked onto hers and softened, the fading daylight bringing out flecks of brown and green. “And happen to be intimidated by a four-year-old.” She kissed his nose playfully before he could pull away.

“Now come on. She hates when people are late.” That got him moving, pulling her closer to him so he could squeeze her hand as they walked up her sister’s paved driveway. “Ready?”

He nodded and she kissed his cheek before knocking on the door. It opened pretty much immediately, Lando sucking in a breath as the couple had to look down to see their host. Maisie stood in the entryway with a toothy grin on her face and her hair pulled up into two wispy pigtails.

“Auntie y/n!” she squealed, launching herself forward to wrap her tiny arms around y/n's legs.

“Hi, sweetpea.” y/n bent at the waist to hug her back. “I brought a friend with me, too! Oh-”

y/n's sentence was cut off as Maisie ducked behind her legs, peering up at Lando from between them.

“Maisie, darling, remember that you only open the door with Mummy or Daddy,” y/n's sister, y/s/n, clucked affectionately at her daughter.

Maisie didn’t look the least bit sorry from her hiding spot.

“Hi, you guys,” y/s/n said, squeezing y/n into a hug before moving over to hug Lando. “Thank you so much for babysitting!”

“Anytime, y/s/n,” Lando smiled, his eyes darting curiously back and forth between y/s/n and Maisie.

“Mais, Auntie y/n and Uncle Lando are going to stay with you tonight, okay?” y/s/n said, beckoning her daughter out from behind y/n's legs. Lando’s cheeks warmed at y/s/n's verbal confirmation of his place in their family. “Can you say hi to him?”

Maisie waved shyly, still clinging to her mum.

“Hi, Maisie!” Lando said, bending down to her level. y/n couldn’t help but giggle at the change in his tone of voice. “Your auntie and I brought you something.”

He brought out the dog from behind his back, and Maisie’s eyes widened. She let out a squeal of delight and rushed forward, happily accepting the stuffed animal from Lando’s outstretched hands.

Maisie hugged the dog tightly, tucking it under her arm. “She’s pink!”

y/n bumped Lando’s shoulder as he stood back up, saving her “I told you so” for later.

“Lucky girl. Alright, I’ll be back by nine, and all of the emergency info is on the counter.” y/s/n beckoned them into the house and grabbed her purse from the table by the door. “Thank you both, again. Call if you need anything.”

“Of course,” y/n said, running a hand over Maisie’s hair. “Say bye to Mummy!”

Maisie waved goodbye, the door shutting softly behind y/s/n after she blew her daughter a kiss, and all of a sudden the house was quiet. y/n waited one, two, three seconds and blew out a sigh of relief when it seemed that the risk of the little girl crying at the departure of her mum was low.

Maisie looked up at them, seemingly taking a second to assess their presence. Her mind made up, she grabbed both of their hands, leading them over to a tiny table with two chairs and a pink teapot. “You sit here with doggie,” Lando was led to the chair on the left, and she placed her dog carefully in his lap. “And auntie goes here.” y/n sat down in the chair next to him, shifting to get comfortable in the toddler-sized seat.

“This is Maisie’s tea party!” She exclaimed excitedly, dashing around to fill their cups from the teapot. She waited expectantly for them to drink and they both compiled, lifting the tiny cups to their lips. y/n winked at Lando over her cup, and he nudged her foot with his under the table.

Their moment was interrupted by their host, who chastised Lando for not pointing his pinky out while holding his cup. Lando happily complied, and the trio enjoyed their tea party as the clock ticked closer to Maisie’s bedtime.

After y/n and Lando had their fourth cups of tea, y/n set hers down and turned to face her little niece. “Hey goober. We gotta get to bed.”

“Can doggie come to bed, too?” Maisie asked, sticking out her bottom lip at Lando.

“Of course,” he replied, passing the stuffed animal over to her.

“Okayyyy.” Maisie got up from her chair at the head of the table, one hand securely wrapped around her stuffed animal, and the other reaching up to grasp Lando’s. His eyebrows raised in surprise at y/n, and she grinned at him, mouthing “I think somebody likes you.”

Lando smiled down at the little girl and let her lead him over to her ocean themed room, complying with her request to be tucked in. He took extra care to make sure that the dog was securely tucked under the blankets as well. y/n just hung out in the doorway, her heart swelling at the sight of her boyfriend being so tender with her niece.

As Lando said goodnight and y/n turned off the lights, Maisie mumbled out a sleepy “Good night, Uncle Lando.”

“Good night, Maisie,” he called back, a wide smile breaking out across his face as he walked to stand behind y/n in the doorway.

“Did you hear that?” he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “She called me Uncle.”

“I did, love,” she smiled, turning her head to meet his eyes. “You’re so good with her.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled at the compliment, and he moved so he was facing her. “Maybe Maisie needs a cousin,” he said with a cheesy grin.

“Hmm, maybe.” She stood up on her tiptoes to brush her nose against his, before capturing his lips in a kiss. “It’d be fun to have another little one running around.”

“I can’t wait.”

@landonorris: sorry can’t talk, at a tea party 🫖

@y/nl/n: auntie duties 🫡

#f1 fanfic #f1 x y/n #mclaren f1 #f1 fic #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #f1 x reader

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velvrei · 11 months

Note

for jay from descendants, i want a smut bc he’s so scrumptious- sooo him and reader have been fwb for at least a month, and one day after jay’s tourney game it feels different? SMUT PLS LMFAO tysm i’m in luv your writing 💋

omg YES i’ve been wanting to write for him, also if your request hasn’t been posted yet i’m going down the line! sorry for the wait <3

benefits

pairing: jay x reader

fandom: descendants

summary: jay & the reader are friends with benefits but one day after tourney everything changes

warnings: smut, switch!jay if you squint, oral (m receiving), pet names, somewhat pda, no sex but it’s still filthy

nsfw below the cut .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

usually jay wouldn’t see himself as much of a sexual guy. that was, until he met you.

when you were first introduced to him, by ben, there was obvious chemistry. he was the “bad boy from the isle,” while you were the “good girl from auradon,” (which wasn’t true at all) but you couldn’t help but notice how he got nervous whenever you entered a room. he was basically head over heels for you.

there was even one time, where you overheard him masturbating and he was saying your name. that was what got you.

so that quickly turned into something, flirting, and teasing each other. then you both discussed it one night after mutually masturbating with each other, and you both agreed to become friends with benefits.

you were sat at his tourney game realizing how far you both had come, literally.

you watched in awe as he scored the game winning goal, making you smile as he was lifted up by his teammates and the whole crowd started cheering.

the group carried him into the locker room, cheering, and your smile stayed displayed on your face.

a couple minutes later, you felt a nudge at your shoulder, turning to see evie.

“i saw you staring at him. the whole game.” she spoke with a giggle, wrapping her arm around you. you rolled your eyes and smiled, “he’s hard not to look at. i was just watching the game.”

evie scoffed. “whatever you two got going on, friends don’t look at friends that way. go convince him! the worst that could happen is that he rejects your offer and you continue fucking occasionally.” evie laughed.

you smiled at her, “okay, fine.” you quickly ran to the locker room and made sure all the other guys were out. jay was the only one in there, you could tell, he was humming a deftones song as he washed his body.

you watched, trying not to giggle as you slowly started took off your clothes. you were fully undressed as you walked over to him and he turned, saw you and jumped.

“you almost gave me a heart attack!” he spoke with a laugh, holding his hand over his heart. “why are you in here!?” he whisper yelled, remembering where he was.

you smiled, “you won, jay, i’m here to celebrate. remember what i said earlier?”

jay felt his cheeks get hot, remembering what you said. “that if i won i would do whatever you wanted me to?” you nodded and wrapped your arms around his chest, hugging him and gently placing your lips onto his.

“what’s it gonna be, captain?” your words made him smile, and immediately get hard, “i don’t know, maybe you should kiss me first.”

as cliche as he sounded, you could never resist his touch. your lips smashed onto his, his hands roamed to your waist, using his hands to apply force and push you against the wall. he was always more aggressive when he was hornier.

your tangled your fingers in his soft, raven hair, smiling into the kiss as tugged and he gasped into the kiss, then moaned.

you slowly pulled your lips away, earning a small whine from him. he stopped and watched as you slowly got onto your knees. “baby…” he trailed off, as if he didn’t want you to.

you shushed him, “don’t even start, love. unless you don’t want me to…” you started to slowly stand up. he stopped you.

“no, please do. i just don’t want you to feel like you have to. that’s all.” he spoke. his words made you smile.

he watched as your face changed, and you smiled, completely changing your whole demeanor.

his mouth fell slightly open as you spoke, “baby, i like pleasing you. especially when i get to hear those pretty sounds you make. gets me wet every time. fuck my throat. do whatever you want to me.” his hips practically buckled as you spoke. he rested his head on the shower wall, “fuck, okay.”

he tried not to melt as he felt you run your tongue the underside of his cock, looking up at him with doe eyes as he swore loudly, his voice slightly louder than before.

you moved your tongue along his tip many times until his hips stuttered, “fuck. i’m sensitive, please,” his pants only made you more eager to tease him.

jay wasn’t normally one to beg, but when it came to you, and he was extra horny, he loved letting all his filthy little words fall from his mouth.

“be patient, baby.” you spoke. your hand gripped firmly, very slowly pumping his cock. his slit was leaking with precum, he was already so worked up by you.

he watched carefully as your lips wrapped around his tip, you kept pumping him but this time at a faster pace. “fuck, feels so good,” he managed to mutter along with his whimpers and pants.

you started to bob your head on him, resisting the urge to moan as he moaned. the realization was sinking in. the hot guy in front of you, was moaning and whimpering because of your mouth. you couldn’t imagine anything hotter.

he looked at you with half-lidded eyes, he was already a moaning mess and she knew he wouldn’t last much longer. he had a thing for being dirty in public and he also just loved the sight of you on your knees for him.

“keep stroking it while you suck it baby… i’m so close, fuck.” his voice was almost slightly high pitched, the whine he let out after added the affect.

you bobbed your head faster before holding your head at the base of his cock. he practically lost his breath, “oh fuck, you want it don’t you.” he said, throwing this head back. he moved his hands to the back of your head and held it there, keeping him at the back of your throat.

he started thrusting his dick in and out of your throat, practically using you as his way to release. “i’m cumming, oh my god!” his whine sent shivers straight to your core.

he held your head as he came tensing up before he shivered and loosened his grip after his high came to its end. you swallowed all you could, a few drops leaving your mouth and washing away with the water into the shower drain.

jay was still out of breath, shivering as he realized what just happened. “are you okay? did i hurt you? i’m sorry-” he immediately began to ramble, realizing how much his arousal took over.

“that was so hot,” was all you said as you stood up. jay sighed and watched as you just smiled at him, no sign of hurt or discomfort in your expression.

he pushed your wet hair behind your ear, “are you sure i didn’t hurt you?” he used his other hand to softly lift your chin.

you shook your head, “no, my love. i actually enjoyed that.”

jay sighed and stepped out of the shower. he grabbed your clothes and handed them to you before he got dressed himself.

when you were dressed, he turned to you with a grin.

“how about you let me take you out on a real date?” you could tell he was nervous, his hands were shaking, could’ve been from the breathtaking orgasm he had not even two minutes ago, he was still out of breath, and when he tied his towel around his waist he failed twice before actually tying it.

you smiled, ready to tease him again, “are you asking me that because of the blowjob or because you like me?”

jay rolled his eyes, “because i like you, y/n. you know you don’t always have to be so difficult and demanding.” as he finished his sentence his towel fell down once again.

you couldn’t help but giggle, “well, you seem to like it when i’m demanding, you were moaning at my words not even 2 minutes ago.” you slowly walked up and him and ran a hand through his hair, “handsome boy.”

his dick hardened immediately as he watched her walk away. “goddamnit, y/n!”

#jay descendants #disney descendants #jay jafar #smut #jay smut #descendants smut #descendants fandom #booboo stewart #booboo stewart smut #descendants x reader #jay x reader #jay x reader descendants #jay descendants smut

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jymwahuwu · 5 months

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I feel like I have goldfish memory but good news, I remembered what scenario I was thinking about for once.

So what if reader was trapped in a samsara like the sabzeru festival (is that how you spell it?) But instead of a festival setting it's the day where she got kidnapped by our beloved general.

On this day she got kidnapped it was just supposed to be another ordinary day but then the kidnapping happens and the next morning she sees that's she's back at home and now throughout the day she's been trying to find different ways to prevent the event but always fail in the end.

The only twist here is that Jing Yuan starts to notice how we start to predict his moves and whatever he's going to do so he starts to catch onto what's happening and tries to stop us from going into another samsara but since we don't know that he knows about this time loop he just pulls a move that we weren't expecting and kidnaps us again.

Idk if you've done this but my ✨insomnia✨ ain't letting me sleep till I type this whole thing out 😭

🍰anon

I'm starting to worry about your sleep 🍰anon 😭🥺 You seem to be as sleep deprived as me.

And never thought time loops could be so interesting! This reminds me of a gaslighting post I read before where a girl broke up with her boyfriend and he kept manipulating her by pretending that they never broke up. But this is really a time loop >_<

-CW: yandere, kidnapping, non-con, breaking into your home

On the day of the kidnapping, the sky was overcast, and the continuous dark clouds organized and gathered, swallowing up the sun. Just an ordinary day, a rainy day. The lights of passing spacecraft and the crowds. You complete your daily activities as usual, such as working/resting/shopping/walking/dining. Opening the door, you took off your shoes and packed your rain gear in the hallway, not noticing anything unusual at home…and then…you fell into a coma.

When you wake up, you're in a luxurious room with a cute cartoon tape covering your mouth. You mumbled something incoherent, thrashing around in panic. The huge figure turned - who was that? Who is that? This stranger had long, layered white hair, broad shoulders, and muscles that seemed to be hidden under the armor and cloth. As soon as he saw you waking up, he immediately approached you and spoke softly. "Oh, you're awake. I've already taken a bath for you. Don't worry." The rain fell pattering outside the general's mansion.

What bath? What bath!? For you? Your eyes widened, tears of horror running down the tape. A flash of lightning flashed across your face quickly and then disappeared. Jing Yuan held your face and looked at it for a while before kissing the tape on your lips. "Sh- don't be afraid. I'll be good to you."

If you respond tactfully, there's a chance you won't get fucked immediately on the first day. After a good night's sleep, you find yourself back home, like you've never been kidnapped!! You thought you were having an immersive dream and didn't care, but you've been kidnapped again. What happened happened again.

Check the time on your phone:

[same date].

You have searched several times and calendars on the Internet, but all of them are stuck on that day and have not moved forward. Maybe this is an opportunity to change the kidnapping? You start searching and investigating who that person really is. Of course, Jing Yuan told you the name (lovers will know each other's names.) You found his introduction on the Space Online public think tank… Uh… Jing Yuan is one of Xianzhou's generals.

Xianzhou Alliance, isn’t that a well-known space civilization alliance? He kidnapped you…does anyone believe it?

Within the time loop of the same day, you tried more than ten ways and routes to avoid being kidnapped, including returning home at different times, sleeping at a friend's house, preparing weapons, taking friends home, renting a hotel room to rest, etc. . Without exception, all failed. He can always resolve and recognize your defenses and lead you away.

Jing Yuan actually knows this time loop and all the struggles and precautions you take. He can't help but see how far you can go, how smart you can be, but doesn't want you to actually escape his chessboard.

Until, after you were kidnapped again, you thought you would wake up and return home…but no. Moreover, Jing Yuan has found a way to end this day's time loop, preventing you from entering another loop. He has Xianzhou technology support after all. You look around the room - this is still the General's mansion.

Why?

Jing Yuan enjoys the fruits and sweetness of victory. Putting you at his mercy - stopping your resistance, his warm palm rubbed between your swollen thighs, spreading your buttocks. He holds you with your legs spread forward, holding you like you were a cute puppy, and penetrates you with his cock. Your heart skipped a beat at his words.

"The only timeline is that we fell in love."

#jing yuan x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #yandere hsr #yandere hsr x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere jing yuan #yandere jing yuan x reader #honkai x reader

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yokohamapound · 6 months

Note

howdy! can we get some hcs for ranpo, chuuya, and akutagawa missing (or forgetting) their s/o’s birthday?

FungusWitch: Hello! My best bish, UnluckyAmulet, has once again graced us with a guest post of delicious headcanons, so I hope you enjoy!

Please check out her AO3! She also writes for Bleach, BNHA, Durarara, Dangan Ronpa, and JJK, among others!

Characters: Edogawa Ranpo, Nakahara Chuuya, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Contains: NSFW, birthday sex, bondage

Edogawa Ranpo

Of the three, Ranpo is far and away the smartest, in both intellect and emotional intelligence. It's very unlikely you can hide how you feel about him missing your birthday from him - even if you haven't been dating Ranpo for long, if you're his s/o, he knows you. He can read your mood like a 3-D pop-up book. It's disconcerting but also oddly comforting.

It is very unlikely he forgot your birthday - it's more probably that he was doing a job for the Armed Detective Agency and got so wrapped up in it that he temporarily set aside everything else until it was finished. When Ranpo is chasing an interesting case it's nigh on impossible to get him to focus on anything else.

Once his hyperfixation ends, though, he does feel a little guilty. You ARE the s/o to the World's Greatest Detective, after all, so logically that means you ought to be celebrated! He gets right to it, roping in poor hapless Atsushi and other members of the Agency into decorating the office for your birthday. Of course he knows what gift you want (and probably makes Atsushi, Kunikida or someone go out and actually buy it. What? He'd get lost if he had to take the train to the mall!) He still takes credit when you praise him for being so thoughtful.

Ranpo tends to be a little lazy and spoiled, but for you, on your special day, he very nobly puts that aside to spoil you for a change. You wanna go do something fun like visit an amusement park or go to a concert? Great! He'll have Fukuzawa pay for tickets! You want to do something more lowkey, maybe chilling at home cuddling and watching movies with him? Awesome, he'll get popcorn! You wanna go out partying and getting shitfaced? Well…he's not much of a drinker, but he'll still come with to dance with you and hold your hair back when you puke. (He'll make Fukuzawa come pick your drunk ass up.)

And don't forget a long, long night of some truly incredible oral - Ranpo's best asset in the bedroom is that tongue of his, so he's going to go to town on you~

Remember to lavish him with praise over what a great boyfriend he is. He needs the validation, okay?

Nakahara Chuuya

With Chuuya he was probably doing a mission for Mori and simply didn't have time to be there or he did forget. His way of making it up to you is simple - gifts. Chuuya is very wealthy thanks to being a high-ranking Port Mafia agent, so whatever you want is yours. That new Prada bag? Done. You want a spa day with all the works? Already booked. Fanciest resturaunt in town? He can just waltz in and get a table whenever he wants.

This may sound all fine and great, but Chuuya may not immediately notice how you're feeling about him missing your birthday - he'll apologise but in a "Oops, sorry, babe!" kind of way and you'll have to be upfront with him if you're actually upset. Chuuya does have a bit of a bad habit of buying your affection when he's too busy to spend time with you, because he's used to people depending on him and being seen as a provider. If you like gift-giving as a love language then you might not consider this an issue, but he does somewhat use his money to assuage feeling guilty and avoid discussing it because he doesn't like seeing you upset.

Also, Chuuya has no memories of before he was seven years old and I doubt very much he got to celebrate his birthdays much when he was running around Suribachi with the Sheep. Sure, he can afford to go ham for his birthday now, and his subordinates gives him gifts (Koyo always buys him wine), but he might not quite grasp the emotional significance of birthdays. Sit him down and explain to him that you appreciate the gifts, but you want him, YOUR BOYFRIEND to be with you, not a credit card.

To make it up to you, Chuuya will give you a birthday fuck that goes on all night. If you have a position or kink you haven't got around to requesting from Chuuya, now's the time, because he intends to make you feel so good you can barely walk the next day.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

I'm gonna be honest, Akutagawa is not particularly understanding or sympathetic. At least, not right away.

He grew up in the slums with his kid sister, surviving off scraps and learning to fight from a very young age. Akutagawa likely had no concept of what a 'birthday' even was except just being another year he's managed to survive in the hellhole he was born into. Even now he's an adult and can afford to do whatever he wants to celebrate if he so chooses, he's not a very birthday person. He always buys a gift for Gin and will get something for his superiors as a token of respect (because it's expected of him), and he'll begrudgingly tell Higuchi "happy birthday", but overall he doesn't consider them that important. He does appreciate being given gifts, but doesn't think of them as a necessity.

So if you get upset or angry with him, he's liable to bite back at first. Akutagawa has trouble apologising because he was never apologised to when he was treated poorly, so he's generally not good at owning up to his mistakes. Like Chuuya, you need to explain to him that even if he doesn't place much importance on birthdays, you do and it hurts you that he doesn't seem to care.

That will get to him. For as grumpy and quick to violence as he is, he does care about his s/o greatly and he doesn't want to lose you. He doesn't even know why you love him in the first place, but he isn't willing to throw your whole relationship away over something trivial like this. So, he'll treat you to whatever you want. He's got the money to really spoil you and he doesn't take much time off, so he'll be able to free up his schedule. (Gin will also remind him next time or help him set up a reminder on his phone so he doesn't miss it in future.)

Try not to force him to come clubbing or some other loud, crowded activity. He won't refuse because he feels bad, but he'll ruin the mood by brooding in the corner like a wilting plant and he gets overstimulated and grouchy quite quickly. But he doesn't mind treating you to a posh meal or going on a holiday or something like that.

I hope you don't mind being tied up, because once somebody explains to Akutagawa the concept of birthday sex, he will go find you immediately and use Rashomon to hold you still for hours while he works you over - that's one birthday tradition he doesn't consider frivolous~

#yokohama pound #guest post: UnluckyAmulet #UnluckyAmulet #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd headcanons #bsd imagines #bsd x reader #Edogawa Ranpo #Nakahara Chuuya #Akutagawa Ryuunosuke #Ranpo x Reader #Chuuya x Reader #Akutagawa x Reader

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therhythmafterthesummer · 1 year

Note

IF you ever change your mind and your fingers are itching to post the pretty getting a backhanded compliment Drabble just know that I’ll be willing to receive

previous ask for reference

you know what??? sure. this is way longer than i remembered it to be so i'm not sure i can call it a drabble anymore lol

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series, but you don’t really need to read any other instalments to understand/enjoy this one). | Word Count: ~3k | Themes & Warnings: fantasy/supernatural AU · smut | established relationship | physical descriptors of the reader such as: being curvy/chubby and having an absolute dumptruck · annoying co-workers · usage of the word fat in a very neutral manner · Chris in a suit (figured that warrants a warning) · alcohol consumption (very moderate) · possessiveness · pet names · oral [F.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv. no barrier method used, but reader is presumed to be on some form of birth control] · praising · creampie · breeding kink

You hardly ever attended events related to work. You only got along with a few people there who you even hung out with outside of the office sometimes, people who coincidentally also hardly ever attended these events. But for some reason, your boss really wanted you to come to this party, and when she told you you could bring a plus one, you figured having your lovely boyfriend there with you would make things much more bearable.

And it did.

It was a fancy event, and seeing Chris all dressed up stirred butterflies in your belly. The white button-up shirt, the tie, the perfectly fitted black suit… He looked absolutely delectable. The only thing you weren’t too fond of was the fact that he’d asked you to straighten his hair. It was fine, he looked dashing as ever, but you just loved his curly hair so much more.

Even with the eyebrow slit he’d recently gotten, he still looked like he belonged at the event, and being honest, you did, too.

You chose to wear a lovely black dress, strapless, with thigh slits, sheer tights, and heels. The dress hugged your figure pretty much perfectly, and you were one-hundred percent sure of it the second you were going into the event venue, and you felt Chris’ hand on your lower back just as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. ‘Can’t wait ‘til we make it home so I can rip this fucking dress off of you and eat you whole…’

Everything was going fine, you were doing an outstanding job at pretending you cared about anything anyone was saying to you, and Chris, unsurprisingly, had charmed everyone up. As soon as more than two words left his mouth he already had people at his feet, and you honestly couldn’t blame them.

Two whole hours after you arrived you left your boyfriend at the bar to go to the toilet, and when you came back, just like you had predicted, there was someone already chatting him up. It was this girl from your department that hated your guts, and, boy, if you were ready to give her a metaphorical slap in the face.

“Hi, Gina”, there was a polite smile on your face just as you wrapped your arms around Chris’ waist. One of his arms immediately wrapped around your shoulders so he could pull you in to kiss your temple.

Gina was clearly taken aback by your sudden presence, she looked like a gaping fish, and it almost made you laugh.

“Hi, baby. What’re you drinking?”

You directed the question to your boyfriend, who simply handed you his glass. “It’s a mocktail. Try it, pretty”.

“I must say”, Gina started, just as you took a sip of your boyfriend’s fruity drink. “When Chris said he was here with his girlfriend, I didn’t think it’d be you”.

Ah, there it was.

Gina had an excellent way of delivering her messages… In which they’d always sound incredibly diminishing and condescending. You didn’t care much, though. You were used to people like her, so you just brushed it off, like you didn’t even pick up on it. Chris, on the other hand, had gone a bit quiet. The polite smile was gone from his face, and his eyebrows were pulling together the tiniest bit.

“Yep, that’s me”, you replied simply. Chris offered to get you a drink, and you figured a mojito wouldn’t hurt, so you took his offer. He immediately signalled the bartender just as you diverted your attention back to Gina. “You look really beautiful tonight”.

She did. She looked incredibly beautiful in her outfit, so you felt like telling her. Your plan of action with Gina was to kill her with kindness, so you always tried to treat her almost like you treated everybody else–sometimes you did get a bit sarcastic, you’d admit, but it wasn’t the case with your original statement.

Gina forced a smile, and she took a sip of her drink before speaking again. “Likewise. That’s a very revealing dress. You’re really brave for wearing that”.

Of course. A back-handed compliment was always Gina’s way. In her eyes, you were brave for wearing a dress like this one because you were fat, and fat people never felt beautiful or confident enough to wear something that showed skin.

You could now practically feel the anger rolling off of Chris. This could potentially get really ugly, really quickly, so you immediately placed a hand on his chest, stopping whatever it was he was about to say. “I don’t think I understand, Gina. Why am I brave?”

Playing aloof was something that always drove her crazy. You’d lie if you said you didn’t like to do it on purpose.

Gina blinked a little, and you saw her left eye twitch. “Well… You know…”

“I’m afraid I don’t? This is just how I normally dress for events like these, to be honest with you. So if anything I just feel like I usually do”.

Gina stumbled over her words, mumbling some pathetic excuse before she left altogether, and you finally heaved a sigh of relief as you took the stool she was previously sitting on. Chris’ form relaxed a bit, but you could tell he was still tense.

He thanked the bartender for bringing your drink, and he handed it to you. “What the fuck is that girl’s problem?”

“She just hates me and likes to be annoying about it”, you took a sip of the drink. It wasn’t particularly strong, for which you were grateful. “What was she talking to you about?”

“Honestly? No clue”, Chris took one last swing of his drink, placing the empty glass on the bar right after. “After I introduced myself and noticed she was trying to hit on me, I just stopped listening”.

“Can’t say I blame her for hitting on you”, you chuckled, taking another sip of your drink, placing a hand on your boyfriend’s thigh. “You look absolutely delicious, baby”.

It wasn’t like you liked when people hit on your boyfriend, but you could certainly understand why it happened. Chris was just unfairly handsome. Supernaturally so. Not only that but his entire aura just drew people to him, so at this point you weren’t surprised when someone tried to make a move.

To you, it didn’t matter anyway. Chris was yours, and yours only. Which was something you had absolutely no doubts about. After all, he had made sure to show you time and time again how true that was, so it didn’t make you particularly insecure if people hit on him, it mostly just annoyed you.

A smug smile spread on Chris’ face, and he placed one of his hands on top of yours on his thigh, hiking it further up. “Do I?”

“You do”, you looked him in the eyes as you said it, taking a sip of your drink. Chris’ gaze shifted, to that predator look of his you knew so well, which immediately had the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

You crossed one leg over the other. The slit of your dress exposed the skin of your upper thigh, and Chris’ eyes zeroed in on the movement. The tights might as well have not been there. One of the many love bites he’d left on your skin a couple of days ago was perfectly visible below the nylon, exposed only when the slit opened up more than it should probably have.

He stood up from his stool, moving to stand right in front of you, bringing a hand to your hip. Your soft flesh dipped under his tight hold, and you held your breath in anticipation when he leaned in to press a lingering kiss on your cheek before whispering in your ear. “Don’t try to rile me up now, pretty… Not unless you want us to get arrested for public indecency”.

You chuckled, but the way your thighs clenched to ease some of the ache that was quickly building between your legs didn’t go unnoticed. When Chris buried his face in the crook of your neck, brushed your pulse point with his nose, and inhaled deeply, you knew that the smell of your arousal probably didn’t go unnoticed, either.

“Say…” Chris spoke once he finally pulled himself away from your neck. “What if we get the fuck out of here?”

“Took the words right out of my mouth”, was the last thing you told him after you dawned the rest of your drink, before you pressed a brief kiss on his lips.

“Oh, fuck…”

After you and your boyfriend stepped through the door of your home, It took probably less than five seconds for him to push you against it and kiss you breathless.

His suit jacket ungracefully hit the floor when you pushed it off of his frame. You hastily untied his tie to also drop it somewhere on the floor just as he was rolling his sleeves up his arms, not detaching his mouth from yours for a second.

You didn’t even manage to unbutton two buttons of his shirt before he was taking a hold of your hips and turning you around so he could press his crotch to your ass. His lips attached your neck, making you whine, making you grind your ass on the very prominent tent in his trousers. His groans whenever you so much as put pressure on his growing erection would always be one of your favourite sounds in this world.

“Fuck, pretty…” Chris pulled you further against his crotch, just as he pressed kisses on your shoulder. “Can’t fucking believe the audacity of that woman…”

You couldn’t help but laugh. Of course Chris was still angry at Gina, you hadn’t expected any less of him. After all, you were comfortable in your body, but Chris was particularly proud of it himself, so he took these things personal. You supposed it was an instinctual reaction.

Before you knew it, he was on his knees, pushing your dress out of the way and ripping your tights. You gasped, surprised. “Chris!”

“I’ll get you new ones…” He replied simply, just as he attached his lips to your buttcheeks so he could suck and nibble your flesh, so he could leave his mark all over. “Fuck…look at this ass. I’ve been going crazy all night just seeing it in this fucking dress, baby…”

Chris gripped both buttocks tightly in his hands, making you whimper. He let go of them only to land mild smacks on each cheek, holding them again to attempt to soothe the sting. You were sure you were dripping already, and your suspicions were proven correct once your boyfriend pulled your thong to the side and got a good look at your bare centre.

“Shit… Push your hips back a bit more, pretty. Arch your back…”

You did as asked, and immediately, his mouth was on you. You swore, loudly, resting your forehead against the cold door of your flat as Chris lapped you up.

Reaching behind you, you buried your fingers in his hair and gripped him tightly, pushing him further into you with a whine. A low growl resonated from Chris, one of those animalistic growls that had goosebumps raising on your flesh, and his movements sped up with your motions.

Everything was a blur after that. You could only register your boyfriend’s devious tongue on your clit, your slit, your ass, anywhere he could reach. It didn’t take long for him to have you coming, to make your legs tremble as your orgasm raked throughout your body.

As soon as he stood back up from the floor, you turned around and pulled him to you, enveloping him in a sloppy kiss. You felt him fumble with his belt and his trousers, and a groan escaped his lips when you lightly scratched his scalp with your fingernails.

“Sofa. Now”, Chris mumbled against your mouth, right before he pulled himself away from you and started getting out of his bottoms.

You were taking too long to get to your destination, clearly, because as soon as he was bare from the waist down, he took your hand and pulled you towards the sofa. When he sat down, he tugged on your hand, urging you to straddle him. So you did, right as you cupped his cheeks to pull him in for a fervent kiss.

Chris pulled you as close to him as he could, reaching behind you to further break your tights open. Somehow, your thong got caught in the cross-fire, and you would’ve complained about it had it not turned you on so much. He could break all your clothes, for all you cared.

“Need you inside me. Now”, you mumbled against his mouth between kisses, moaning at the feel of his fingers digging on the supple flesh of your ass, at the feel of his shaft dragging through your folds with every roll of your hips.

“Fuck… Go slow, then, pretty baby…”

You’d gotten better at coaxing your boyfriend into giving you his cock with less prep than he’d usually prefer. You were always fine, you were used to him already, considering how often you had sex, so it hardly ever hurt as long as you did go slow.

Separating your bodies a bit, you took his length in your hand, feeling him throb in your grasp as you gave him a couple of pumps. Chris groaned, throwing his head back, and your mouth watered. Both at the feel of him in your hand, and the sight of him, all dishevelled, desperate for you just like you were desperate for him.

“Fuck, perfect little cunt, huh?” Chris mumbled when you started to sink on his cock. He’d told you before, many times, how perfect he thought your cunt was. ‘It’s like… So plump on the outside, just like the rest of you… But so fucking warm and tight on the inside… Makes me wanna eat it all the time, baby, it really does’.

“Your perfect little cunt, Chris. Yours”, you whispered in his ear, whining once he was fully sheathed within your warmth. “Perfect little cunt for your big, alpha cock. Hm?”

Chris hummed, holding your hips tightly so he could guide you to start moving back and forth, letting your clit deliciously rub against his pubic bone. “Your alpha’s cock, pretty. All for you”.

With trembling hands, you unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way so you could press your palms against his heated skin while you kissed him.

Chris always made you feel so full. Not only with his monster cock, but also with the undeniable love he had for you. There was just absolutely no doubt in your mind that this werewolf under you loved you with all of him, and, quite honestly, you had no doubt in your mind that you loved him just as much. You hoped he knew.

“I love you so much”, you gasped, rolling your hips harder against him, and his grip on your hips tightened.

If he didn’t know how much you loved him, you’d remind him. You’d remind him as many times as necessary.

“I love you, too”, Chris replied simply, kissing your cheeks, groaning a bit. “Wanna come again like this, baby? Grinding against me with my cock deep inside you?”

You just nodded, burying your face in the crook of his neck to press kisses on his skin, whining, moaning, feeling your mind empty out, leaving nothing but your boyfriend behind.

“Fuck, I want that, too… Want to feel you come around me, and then rail you on this very sofa. Would you let me, pretty? Let me fuck you dumb?”

You nodded again, speeding the movement of your hips, claiming your boyfriend’s mouth in a heated, sloppy kiss to muffle all the sinful sounds coming out of your mouth.

After a while of this, of just kissing and grinding against Chris, when you started to feel the familiar build up of your orgasm in your belly, you felt Chris’ hands move away from your hips. He dragged them all the way down to your thighs, your calves, and back up, squeezing as he went, humming and groaning into your mouth.

“Pretty, these heels… They make your legs look extra scrumptious”, he dragged his short nails over the fabric of your tights–or what was left of them… “Been–fuck… going insane all night”.

“I–I know”, you replied simply, whimpering a bit as you started to grind even harder against his pubic bone. “That’s why I got them… Why I wore them to go out with you tonight”.

Chris laughed at that, throwing his head back and everything. It made you laugh as well, with the only difference between your reactions being that yours ended in a breathless moan as your boyfriend bucked his hips. “I might be the monster here, but you’re certainly the dangerous one, love”.

“Mmm… My dear monster boyfriend…” You were honestly not even making much sense to yourself, but you vaguely noticed Chris’ gaze softening, which somehow had your lower belly tightening further. “Baby, I’m so, so close…”

“Good”, Chris replied simply, kissing you again.

You needed something extra, though. You knew you could come like this soon, but you were craving a bit more stimulation. “Chris?”

“Mm?”

“My tits”, you mumbled against his mouth, and Chris inhaled deeply, detaching himself from you.

“Want me to play with your tits, love?”

As soon as you nodded, Chris was pulling the front of your dress down so he could cup your breasts without barriers. He dragged his fingers over your stiffening nipples, making you roll your hips harder, faster, and mumble a barely audible ‘More…’

It took only a couple of rolls of your nipples between his fingers for you to finally come crashing down, moaning your boyfriend’s name and burying your face in the crook of his neck. Chris just held you close, mumbling words of praise against your hair as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

When you caught your breath enough, you pulled away from his neck, smiling brightly at him and bringing him in for a sweet kiss.

“Feeling okay, my love?” Chris asked, pressing lingering kisses on your cheek.

“Perfect, baby”, you replied simply, melting under the motions of his lips.

“Good. Now, let’s get you out of this thing…”

Chris helped you get out of your dress, and as soon as he’d shrugged his shirt off, you were on all fours on your sofa. Knees firm on the cushions, elbows on the armrest, and your boyfriend right behind you, shoving his werewolf cock time and time again within your sensitive core.

In no time, Chris had you a whimpering, moaning mess again. His hands were everywhere, on your hips or your waist to pull you back to meet each one of his precise thrusts, on your shoulders or the back of your neck to hold you in place, or even digging on the supple flesh of your thighs.

“Can’t believe…some people would even dare imply…” Chris brought a hand to your shoulder, pulling back towards him and wrapping an arm around your waist so his chest could be flush to your back. His lips attached to your neck, eliciting more moans to fall from your mouth. “…that this body of yours is anything less than perfect, fuck… So, so perfect. All mine to enjoy… I’m so fucking lucky…”

His relentless pace had your mind completely disconnected from everything outside of your flat’s walls. It took a moment to register what he was saying, to remember the encounter with your co-worker earlier in the evening. It was so insignificant to you, but it struck a nerve of Chris’, clearly.

Bringing a hand behind you to take a hold of his hair, holding onto the backrest for stability with the other, you started to push your hips back to the best of your capabilities in this position, just as quiet moans spilled freely from your lips. If there was anything you were good at at this point, it was knowing what to say to your boyfriend to calm him down in situations like these.

“All yours, Chris…” Your grip on his hair tightened, his thrusts sped up, and you were honestly on the verge of tears. “My soft body all perfect for you and your puppies, hm?”

“Oh, shit–Fuck, fuck. Gonna blow–”

“Stuff me full, Christopher. Gonna stuff me completely full of your pups, right?”

His hair tickled your skin when he nodded. One, two, three more thrusts and Chris groaned, filling you to the brim with his cum, panting, borderline growling against the skin of your shoulder. His other arm also wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to his body, and you immediately relaxed in his hold.

“Your…” Chris started speaking, a bit breathless. “Your soft body all perfect for me and our puppies…”

You giggled at that, feeling yourself flush.

“Get back on your elbows, pretty…”

You did as asked, lowering yourself again. Chris pulled out, and his cum started leaking from your now swollen hole. You heard him swear, barely a whisper before he started wiping you clean.

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I seriously hope you’re not using my black dress to wipe your cum off of me”.

Chris laughed, and he asked you to lay on your back. That was when you noticed it wasn’t your dress, but his shirt he’d used.

“‘Course not, silly”, he started untying your heels to get them off. What was left of your tights came off after, finally leaving you completely bare.

Chris hovered over you for a second, pressing a brief kiss on your lips before he snuggled closer, laying his head on your chest. “I love how you look in that dress, wouldn’t want to ruin it…”

You hummed, burying your fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp. The tips of his hair had started to curl again from his sweat, and it made you smile.

“You looked incredibly handsome tonight, baby…” You couldn’t help but compliment him, kissing the top of his head. “You always do, but tonight especially…”

Chris kissed your chest, finding his way to your neck to lick and kiss your pulse point as well. “And you looked gorgeous, love”.

After a while of cuddles, of a comfortable silence spent catching your breaths, Chris shuffled down your body, kissing his way all the way down to your tummy where he placed loud, lingering kisses there before he stood up from the sofa altogether. He scooped you in his arms, and pressed a brief kiss on your lips, making you giggle.

You found yourselves in your bathroom seconds after, where your boyfriend started drawing a bath while he dropped the words you’d been waiting for all night. ‘Okay, I need you to tell me who was who tonight. I need to put faces to all this office gossip you’ve been telling me for months, baby, or I won’t be able to sleep tonight…’

figured i’d tag anyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know ! If you want to be added to the tag list, you can fill in this form. be aware that you must have an indication that you’re an adult in your blog if you want me to tag you in my works

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hamiltonaf · 1 year

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Bitter | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: Sexual tension / Teasing

A/N: Apologies for being MIA, slowly getting back into writing after a busy few weeks. Will hopefully be posting more oneshots soon. Hope you babes enjoy .xoxo

(Y/F/N) - Your Friend’s Name

What started off as a chilled day, unfortunately didn’t end that way. The day had started off with Achraf coming over, we caught up for some time before I decided to leave him and Kylian alone. I walked off to our room in hopes of either being productive or finding something entertaining to kill some time.

I was settled comfortably in bed with my phone in one hand and TV remote in the other, I skipped through movies whilst scrolling through Instagram simultaneously. It wasn’t until I got a call from (Y/F/N) that I put my phone on speaker and continued skipping through movies. “Heyyy !” she said enthusiastically. “Hey girl ! What’s up ?” I greeted. “Nothing much, just getting ready at the moment. How about you ?” She asked. “Getting ready ? For what ?” I furrowed my brows. “For Jason’s birthday dinner ! Aren’t you coming ?” She asked in shock.

“Oh shit.. that’s today” I hit my forehead. “Duh ! Didn’t you read the invite ?” she said in an obvious tone. “Obviously I did, I just didn’t have any intention to go…” I trailed. “Why ? Is it Kylian ?” She asked concerned. “No no. Don’t you remember he used to like me ? What would Kylian think if I’m attending a party of a guy that used to like me ?”

“Damn I actually forgot about that” she stifled a giggle. “Well that was in damn high school, we’re all adults now. I’m sure he moved on and besides that, I don’t want to go alone and I don’t want to talk to anyone else there” she whined. “Ugh I don’t know” I pursed my lips. “Oh come on man. Nothing bad is gonna happen and god forbid anything does, I’m here to throw hands” she reassured. “I feel bad though” I pouted. “If you really feel that bad, bring your mans with” she suggested. “I could but Achraf is over at the moment, I don’t know if he’s leaving anytime soon so it’s a bit of a sticky situation” I said. “Come on… pleaseeeee” she whined. I thought about it for a bit before sighing and agreeing to go. “I love you ! You’re the bestest. Call me when you’re here. Ciao” she said lastly before ending the call.

I groaned as I got up from my comfy position on the bed and headed to the bathroom to have a shower. I had plenty of time since it was a dinner anyway so I took my time to do my hair and makeup, before slipping on my skirt and top.

I sat at the edge of the bed to strap on my heels when suddenly the door burst open. Kylian’s gaze immediately fell on me. He whistled as he walked over to stand in front of me. “Mon amour is this all for me ?” He wiggled his brows playfully. “Not today babe” I said as I stood up and walked over to my dresser to spray on some perfume. "He raised a brow in confusion, “Then where are you going ?”. "Remember that dinner party thing I was telling you about earlier this week and I didn’t want to go… Well, it's today and I need you to drop me off please" I said as I walked over to stand in front of him whilst he was seated at the edge of the bed.

“What made you change your mind ?” He asked curiously. “(Y/F/N) refuses to go without me” I sighed. “Then tell her to not go” he said obviously. “You know her, she doesn’t take no for an answer. Besides that, she’s kinda curious to see where everyone is at all these years since high school. I mean its been like 6 years so it’s also a reunion thing” I said as I caressed his hands which he then stood up. "Okay" he let out a sigh. “Thank you baby!” I pecked his lips before I walked over to my dresser to grab my purse. His hands then wrapped around my waist with his face nuzzled in my neck. “I wanted us to spend alone time” he mumbled.

“Why do you have to look so good” he pouted as he then kissed my cheek. “I’m all yours later” I then placed a kiss on his cheek and turned to face him, whilst I was still held by him. "Who's going ?" He asked. "I don't believe you know anyone there that's going besides (Y/F/N)" I said as I grabbed his hand and pulled him along with me downstairs. As he always does, he held the passenger door open for me and shut it once I was in the car before going to the drivers side. I checked the time on my phone and I couldn’t believe that I had so much of time, and I was currently running late.

The ride to the restaurant was fairly quiet, only the music playing softly in the background had filled the silence. It was a comfortable silence though, not alarming, considering he drove with one hand on my thigh and one hand on the steering wheel. He of course had to rev the car when we stopped in front of the restaurant. Show off. "Oh my god everyone's looking" I said under my breath. "That's a good thing" he said from beside me.

My friends were all stood outside...I wonder why ? A few guys were out here as well, I could see Kylian’s jaw clench when he saw, Jason. Kylian doesn’t know about Jason liking me ages ago, I never bothered mentioning it because I never thought I’d see him again and not to say I dated the guy anyway. If I mentioned it on the way here then you bet Kylian is making a u-turn back home.

The car clearly caught everyone's attention as some people wanted to know who was going to come out of it. "You’re coming along right ?" I turned to look at him. He didn’t answer as he just looked at the guys outside. “Ky” I called. “Hmm” he hummed then turned to look at me. “Are you coming ?” I repeated my question. “Yeah yeah, you can jump off if you want whilst I go park” He smiled at me as he watched me step out of the car. He rolled down the window as I shut the door, just then Jason walked towards me to pull me in for a hug. "Hey! Thanks for coming" he smiled. "Thanks for inviting me" I smiled back. He then looked behind me to see the car.

"Hey man, sick ride !" Jason said as he leaned against the car door to talk to Kylian. "Thanks" he said plainly. I tried to hold back my laugh, he clearly doesn't like him. "Why don't you join us ?" Jason asked. That's when I stepped in because I know Kylian is going to give him a sarcastic answer. "Sure, he’d love to" I said as I stood beside Jason. "Great, we'll see you inside" Jason said. Kylian then sped off to park the car as everyone walked inside the restaurant. I excused myself as I decided to wait for Kylian outside. Little did Jason know is that Kylian was going to come regardless of an invite.

I had my arms crossed over my chest as he walked towards me with a smug look on his face. "What ?” I raised a brow. “Nothing…” he trailed and stood behind me to whisper in my ear. “Walking towards you and seeing you in that skirt is doing things to me, all I can think about is what we’d be doing if we were at home right now.” I could feel the heat suddenly rush to my cheeks. “Please don’t start” I said as I shut my eyes and tried to shake off the dirty thoughts away. “Well, let’s see how long you last before you’re rushing me to go home” he smirked. “Hmm we’ll see about that” I said as I turned to briefly look at him behind me. He then grabbed a hold of my hand and led the way.

Yet again all eyes were on the both of us, the only empty seat that was left for the both of us was one next to Jason and some other guy whom I didn't know. Since I knew Jason, I was just about to pull the seat to sit next to him but Kylian sat in place I gave him a look before sitting down next to him. "So I didn't catch your name" Jason spoke as he turned to look at Kylian. I pressed my lips together so hard to stop myself from laughing. "Kylian" he answered. "Jason, but I bet you already knew that" he smiled. "As a matter of fact, I didn't, (Y/N) never mentioned you until now" Kylian said oblivious. This liar. I lightly hit his leg under the table intentionally. “By that he means I knew about the invite but I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it because Kylian has training and matches” I said with a smile.

"What do you do mate ?" Jason asked him, now he's intrigued, completely oblivious to who Kylian is and what he does. Can’t blame Jason, he’s lived in the USA pretty much his whole life until he came as an exchange student and after about a year he left back. "Football player…but you’re still studying right ?" Kylian asked. "I was but I dropped out a few months ago, my parents are pretty rich so I thought why should I waste my time" he chuckled. Kylian then glanced at me in signal to lean in closer, "Is this a joke" he whispered. I stifled a laugh but kept myself together. "So you mean soccer ?" Jason asked. I thought I should answer that before Kylian gives in a cold reply back. "On the European side it’s known as football, Jason. He plays for PSG" I smiled proudly. I placed my hand on top of his in signal to stay calm.

"Is that where you guys kick the ball into the net ?" Jason asked. I could see Kylian clench his jaw and roll his eyes, he's so done with him. I was about to speak up but Kylian decided to answer that instead, "Yeah man, we waste about 90 mins trying to get the ball into the net. Sounds like fun doesn't it ?" Kylian said sarcastically. "No" Jason chuckled, he didn't catch on. When Jason turned to have a conversation with the girl next to him, Kylian turned to look at me. "Just look at this idiot" he said as he gestured to Jason. "Calm down Ky. He’s not European so he doesn’t keep up with sport" I giggled.

The whole night Jason was trying to become friends with Kylian but he was having none of it and just wanted to leave, he was already offended by his assumption of playing football and the fact that he called it soccer. Whilst Kylian was talking to Jason, I ended up making friends with Scott beside me. I learned that he was Jason’s best friend from the US as well. The whole 5 minutes I learned about Scott was all going well until I felt Kylian’s hand laying on my thigh. I quickly looked at him beside me and he was still chatting to Jason. I didn’t react and continued my conversation with Scott until I felt his hand ride up higher on my thigh, his thumb caressing my inner thigh. I felt like I was melting internally. When his fingers travelled under my skirt I placed my hand on top of his to stop him. “Would you excuse me please” I said as I abruptly stood up. “(Y/F/N) care to join me ?” I asked. She took a hint and followed me along to the bathroom.

“What’s wrong ?” (Y/F/N) whisper yelled. “Just needed a breather from Scott” I lied. I faked a sigh of relief as we got to the bathroom. “What happened ?” She asked curiously. “He was just boring me and I felt the need to leave” I shrugged. “Ahh shame. Bummer he’s really cute though” she pointed out. “He’s all yours” I smiled at her and gave her a pat on her shoulder. “Bet, is he single” she raised s brow. “You bet” I smiled. “Then please do the honours of being my wingwoman” she pouted. “Babes, I’m already on it” I said as I freshened up before leaving the bathroom and pulling her along with me.

As we walked back, everyone’s attention was pulled to Jason’s story telling. I took a seat in my spot and felt Kylian’s gaze burning through me. He leaned in close and mumbled, “Missed you” then placed a kiss on my cheek. “I’m sure you did” I said low enough for only him to hear. Missed me for very obvious reasons. I then played around with the napkin on my lap before purposely dropping it on the floor. I reached below the table for it with one hand whilst my other hand slowly moved up his leg and stopped mid thigh. I could feel him stiffen under my touch as he held a firm grip on the arm of the chair. I sat up straight and crossed my legs over pretending that nothing is going on. My hand traveled further up his thigh until his hand firmly gripped mine to stop me. I then thought of continuing my conversation with Scott before Kylian could say something.

I played my role as wingwoman for (Y/F/N) as she asked. I could feel through the entire conversation Kylian was literally burning me with his gaze. He’s itching to leave and I’m not. Since he still held my hand and I couldn’t fight his grip, as a tease I thought of gripping his thigh. He was tensed and shifted a lot in his seat because he was getting annoyed.

After everyone finished eating their dinner and paid up, Jason had suggested that we all take pictures outside. I went first since Kylian wanted to leave ASAP. I was caught off guard when Jason wrapped his arms around my waist from behind with his head on my shoulder. I could see Kylian clench his jaw again, he was fuming and that's when he decided to speak up. "That picture is missing something" he said. "What ?" Jason asked as he released his grip on me and had his hand on my lower back. "Me" Kylian said in an obvious tone.

"Wait" Kylian yelled before the guy could take the picture. Kylian stood in between Jason and I, satisfied he could place his hand on my lower back instead. Jason seemed a bit disappointed but anywho. "Stop being so jealous will you ?" I whispered loud enough so only he could hear. After the guy took the picture, Kylian hadn't let go of my hand whilst I hugged Jason. Kylian then pulled me aside as he asked, "Why do you have such stupid friends ?". "Just because you don't like one of them, doesn't mean you can call them all stupid" I raised my brows at him. “Hey !” (Y/F/N) whined as she butted into our conversation. “Except for you” I said as I looked at her. “Made a new friend, Kylian ?” She asked him. “Never could be friends with that guy” Kylian scoffed. “Anyways, we gotta go” he said as he waved everyone off and as did I. I pulled (Y/F/N) for a quick hug and greeted her goodbye, before my hand was entwined with Kylian’s again as he walked me to the car.

“Soooo” I trailed once he got into the car. "Jason is an idiot, let's not get into it" he said as he sped off. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing, “Ky, he was just trying to be your friend” I playfully said. “Friend ? By laughing and saying football is where you kick a ball into the net ? Was that a joke and I missed it ?” He asked with a raised brow. “In all seriousness, he wasn’t joking. Just let it slide, he’s from the US so he doesn’t know much” I leaned my head against the glass window. “Doesn’t know much ?” He scoffed. “He was literally staring at you, I mean who the hell is he to hold you like that ?”

I pressed my lips together firmly to hold back my laugh. “Forget about Jason, what was that stunt you pulled ?” He raised a brow. “What stunt ?” I innocently asked. “You wanna play that game ?” He asked as he stole a glance. “Don’t know what you’re talking about babe” I said as I crossed my legs over. “Alright then, I’ll jog your memory when we’re back home” he said as he then placed a hand back on my thigh.

(A/N: I’m so sorry for ending it like that, it’s so late rn and I had this in my drafts for too long .xx)

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nyrasbloodyclover · 11 months

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dragons, blood, fire & sex (daemon targaryen x stark!reader)

cw: blood, knifeplay, overstimulation, daemon being daemon, breeding kink, underage

a/n: i wrote this a couple of months ago and posted it on here, but tumblr deleted it and here i am, posting it again

I was sitting in my chambers after very uncomfortable dinner with the King and his family. It was my second night in King's Landing and I already wanted to go home. My husband was still in The North.

We weren't married that long. I was seventeen. My mother wanted me married as soon as possible and that was immediately when I turned sixteen. Not that I blame her.

I wanted to get away from him. His voice, touch, his mere presence made me sick. He was a good match for the family, but a horrible man for a husband.

I bedded him only once, on our wedding night and I was so sure I did something wrong then, but the more I thought about it, I realized he couldn't stand me and the feeling was mutual. So that made our sex life miserable.

I came here partly to visit Rhaenyra, but I also grew bored of the cold. King's Landing was beautiful and completely opposite of the Winterfell. I liked a change.

I looked at myself in the large mirror. Nothing unusual. Then why did I still feel like my face was on fire?

I remembered the dinner. Prince Daemon was giving me looks the whole night. I couldn't say that I didn't like it. But I also couldn't say that I did. We were both married and he was much older than me. It would be weird to think anything of it.

But then again, why was the thought of him so appealing? He was older, yes, but also more mature. More experienced. I was already aching to be touched. At least I knew how to do that. When your husband's like mine, you learn many things.

I needed to sort my thoughts out before facing anyone. Involving myself with him could only mean problems. And trouble. And I didn't need any of that.

There was a loud knock on the door that pulled me from my thoughts.

"Yes?!" My voice sounded hysterical. Dear gods. No one answered, but the door opened and as soon as I saw silky white hair my stomach dropped.

He was wearing the signature colors of his house. Red and black. His hair was shorter than it was when I arrived. Instead of his usual back lenght, it was little below his shoulder now. I had to admit. It suited him more. His hard features were covered with amusement when he stepped into my chambers.

"My prince," I bowed my head, "What are you...What do I owe the pleasure—" It was embarrassing how I suddenly forgot every word in the existence. I felt like prey under his gaze. Like he was waiting to eat me alive.

He was trying not to smile, "My lady. You forgot this at the table." He said, giving me a small object the size of my palm. My bracelet. My heart was beating rapidly. It was a wedding present from my husband. I put my hand through it, but he seized my wrist, stopping me from doing so.

This was the first time I looked him in the eyes. I put the bracelet on my bed.

"Thank you. But," I started, but didn't dare utter a word after that. Who was I to question his actions? He was unpredictable, he could put my head on a spike for all I know.

"But what?" He cocked his head to the side. His voice was just curious. Not threatening. I swallowed.

"It's nothing. I'm really tired. I should start getting ready—" I started picking up my brush and undoing my braided hair. He was carefully observing my every step.

"You wanted to know why I came here myself. And didn't send a servant. Or anyone else, for that matter." That wasn't a question. He looked like he was drunk. So carefree, like he was untouchable. But he wasn't. His brother made sure of that. I nodded, not meeting his gaze.

"The answer is simple, zoklītsos," I recognized that word. We studied a bit of High Valyrian in Winterfell. Little Wolf. My mouth went dry. "I just wanted to see...How long would it take until I fuck you in front of that mirror." I tried not to panic, while my face burned.

"That," I breathed, "is rather inappropriate. You know I'm married."

He stepped closer. "And your husband is a pathetic excuse of a human being. How old is he? Sixteen? Seventeen?"

"Nineteen." I didn't see what his age had to do with anything, but I didn't argue. His presence made me so nervous I wasn't sure I knew how to breathe anymore.

"It's alright. After I'm finished with you, you won't be so flustered. You know why is that?" I shook my head, feeling out of my body.

His hands moved from my shoulders to my wrists. "Because I'll show you how a real woman must be treated. That boy— Your husband," he spat the word like it meant nothing, "doesn't know what to do with you." He was much taller than me, I had to look up. "Thank gods I do." His finger traced the side of my neck, sending shivers all over my body. He took something from his pocket— A knife. I inhaled sharply and didn't dare move. He cut his fingers, then his palm. What is he doing?

Daemon took the back of my head and seized my hair, "Open your mouth." My scalp was burning from his hold. I did as he said. I was too scared to tell him no, but one part of me was curious. So what if I end up dead after this?

He put his bloody fingers in, letting me suck them, tasting his blood.

They said Targaryen's are closer to gods than they are to men and I was certain of that now, as his blood dripped down my chin.

He used his thumb to wipe it, "Now, there is Targaryen blood in you."

He didn't need to say the rest of the sentence. If i accidentally get pregnant. He is doing himself a favor by putting it in me. I wasn't sure it'll help, but licked my lips anyway. I needed to loosen up if I wanted to enjoy this.

I took all of my dignity, all that I had left and uttered the words, "What should I do?" His hand was still bleeding when he reached to my face and cupped my cheek. I felt warm liquid drip down my face and the smell of iron filled my senses.

"Turn around." I obeyed without question.

His touch was gentle at the beggining. When he massaged my back, or when he kissed the spot between my shoulder and neck.

My head slowly went backwards, almost touching his shoulder, but he unexpectedly put distance between us. Before I could see what was happening, I felt his hands on my back.

Ripping my corset.

I let out something between a moan and a gasp, as his knife made through the hard fabric. His cock was digging into my back, every time he ripped it a little bit more. My core was aching with unfamiliarity.

I wanted him to fuck me senseless.

Once it was completely off I couldn't help but feel exposed. More than I've ever been in my life. My hair was covering my breasts, so he couldn't see anything in the mirror.

The rest of my skirts went down and I swear I could picture him smiling from behind. I was holding onto the chair in front of the large mirror. I tried not to look at myself, but it was hard. My face was half-bloody and my hair was in the questionable state. I had no clothes on and The Rogue Prince was preparing to fuck my brains out. I heard him unbuckle his belt and I had the urge to stop him right there, but something was telling me no.

Maybe it was him ordering me to bend down, while still holding the chair for support. There was no hiding now, I was completely naked. In every sense of that word. And before I could think of anything, he entered me with full force, making me grunt. I felt every inch of him in me, pulsing with desire as he went out than in again.

I was ashamed of myself. If anyone finds out I could lose everything.

But that thought disappeared from my mind as soon as he grabbed a handful of my thick hair in his fist, pulling it as hard as possible. I moaned, my neck arching backwards. Soon enough, my head was thrown back, it started spinning, but I could see him. Smiling down at me as my mouth opened again, letting out another moan. And he took a chance and spit in it, making me clench around him. It was like he knew what I wanted and did exactly that. But not even I knew that I would like that.

I swallowed his spit and before he let go of my hair, he lowered his mouth to my ear.

"Rene."

Oh.

How did he know? How did he know that was the exact word people in King's Landing used to describe me, not realizing I could understand them?

"I'm not a slut," I said into his mouth. He thrusted into me, even more violently and I couldn't help it, I kissed him. His mouth was warm and sweet, while mine still tasted like his blood.

"No, you are not," he said, breaking the kiss, then added, "Except when you're with me. Now look, Little Wolf. Look how good you look with me inside you."

I wanted to turn my head away from the mirror, but he put his hand around my jaw, not letting me move. I was forced to look and the picture looked like something out of a brothel. No. Something worse.

His dick was deep inside me thrusting with unknown violence. His hand was around my throat, not so gently squeezing, I was gasping for air. But the rest of my body? It was bloody. My stomach, my neck, my shoulders. My face.

Covered in Targaryen blood.

"Daemon," I moaned, my eyes rolling back. I was so close to the edge it would only take a few seconds more, but he pulled out.

I whined preparing to satisfy myself, even in front of him, if I had to. But he had other plans.

"Sit," he pointed to the chair, "And spread your legs."

I had to be honest. It was a struggle walking like this, but I managed. I spread my legs, not sure what he had in mind. He kneeled in front of me and spread my legs even further, my thighs started to ache. His hard hands were holding them in place, as his head went down, closer to my cunt. I had no time to process what he was doing when I suddenly felt his tongue, licking me up and down. I squirmed a little, biting back another embarrassing moan. He was hitting one specific spot that made me gasp for air. Then he bit it. I screamed in pain, gripping his silver hair.

He was feasting on me and it felt fucking good. I pulled his hair, as he did mine a few moments ago, and felt him groan into me. I almost smiled, then made a mental note, Prince Daemon liked his hair pulled.

My hips rose to his face, but he put me down quickly, not letting me move, as I came all over his face. My hand covered my mouth and my eyes rolled back, and instead of stopping, he unexpectedly changed our positions.

He was sitting, while I was straddling him. It felt too intimate, I was immediately uncomfortable. I had to look him in the eye after we just did. I was still slightly shaking from his tongue, but instead of letting me recover from it he decided to use me.

"I didn't finish, sweetheart." I think that was the first normal nickname he used tonight. His lips were wet and rosy and just one thought of his head between my legs made me want to do it again.

"I'm going to have to use you and your pretty little body," Now I was nothing. Just a hole he could put his cock into. But it didn't matter.

I was still sensitive, maybe even too sensitive to do anything again, but he did not have patience for me. He grabbed my hips and positioned me over his cock, then violently pushed me on him as I cried out in pain. My back arched at the too much sensation between my legs. He moved my hips as he liked. I shut my eyes, feeling overwhelmed by his touch. He threw back his head, enjoying all of this a bit too much. I could feel he was close and instead of pulling out, he spilled all of it inside me.

I was furious with him. "Are you out of your mind?" His face looked smug.

"We better start rehearsing wedding vows, Little Wolf."

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #daemon x y/n #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader

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chasedbyatlantic · 4 months

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from the dining table, joel miller

summary: IN WHICH — ellie brings dina home to you and joel for the first time. joel thinks it's too soon and tries his best to protect her, but it doesn't go as planned.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!joel, gender neutral!reader, implied relationship, dom!joel, joel protecting reader and ellie :sob:, husband/wife bickering from reader and joel, dina hate (unfortunately), handsy joel, fluff/angst, swearing. lmk if i missed anything!

wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: u guys, 100 notes on my first two fics?!?! i am literally sobbing thank u sm it means sm to me ily mwah mwah. i sincerely hope u enjoy this one because it was SO much fun to write. i'll upload a couple times throughout the week so stay tuned (follow to make sure u catch the uploads ;)). please like, comment, and reblog! xoxo

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"Hurry up and wipe the dust off of it, they'll be over in five minutes!" You couldn't remember when you had a guest over last, a real guest. Well- sort of real, it was Ellie's new girlfriend visiting for the first time. Besides, you had never spoken to the girl face to face, only seen her in town or heard about her through stories from Ellie, so a guest it is.

Joel let out a small groan as he almost threw the fork out of his calloused hands. "For fuck sakes, darlin'. If I didn't love ya' so much I'd fuckin' punt this thing over fence." He sort of- dropped the fork on the table, not bothering to place it identically to the others.

You couldn't help but let a chuckle escape your lips. Before you said anything, you gave him a peck on the lips, "You know I appreciate your help. It's just- they have to be around an inch apa-" Before you could even finish your sentence, you were interrupted. "I'm going inside."

From the angered tones used toward you, you could tell Joel was pushed off the edge from this comment you had made. Not to worry though, he never stayed mad with you for longer than about thirty seconds, and he took the pieces of uncooked meat with him which was a total plus. Unfortunately, you weren't blessed with the cooking gene (despite your parents owning and operating their own restaurant before the world ended). If Joel wasn't around, you would've starved to death.

Pushing past the silly argument the two of you just had, you fixed up the dining table with the correct cutlery in the correct places, the nice middle piece you had traded for in the town's trade centre now sitting on the table, and some fancy napkins tucked under the cutlery, ones that had beautiful flowers decorating the edges.

It definitely took Ellie and Dina longer than five minutes to show up. You had time to (quickly) get changed into a nice shirt and your favourite pair of jeans. You also had a spare second to brush through your hair and fix it the way you like. Once you heard the door unlock from up in your room, you scurried to get up and run down. You had two different shirts in your hands, picking one for Joel to wear. You had ended up laying out a nice maroon one over your shared bed before booking it to the staircase.

"Hey- hi!" You came to a halting stop, sounding out of breath (you were, to be completely honest) in front of the two girls. "You must be Dina, it's so nice to meet you. Ellie has told me so much about you." You didn't really think about what you were saying, you were too caught up in the moment, and on making a good impression, that it slipped your mind.

You immediately pulled the girl in for a hug, not giving her anytime to reply. She didn't pull back, in fact, she wrapped her arms back around you. "I am, yeah- your house is gorgeous. Thank you for the invite for dinner." You let go as Dina said this, and you matched her smile. Ellie had her hands pocketed, a small smile threatening to peak through her neutral expression.

Soon after, you could hear the familiar voice call from the kitchen. "Food's ready, darlin'!" Joel definitely didn't know the two girls were over, because if he knew, he wouldn't use any of his nick names for you in front of them. The two girls looked at each other, breaking out into quiet laughter. You couldn't help but grin to yourself, watching the two girls. You couldn't remember when Ellie was this happy.

"Alright, show her to the backyard, Ellie. Everything's already set up'n everythin'." Ellie placed her hand on the small of Dina's back as she guided her out to the patio, through the living room (avoiding the kitchen, where Joel was). You made your way to the kitchen, looking at Joel with his absolute ridiculous apron on. Everytime Joel cooked, you forced him to wear this (ignoring the fact he despised it).

"My handsome man," you greeted him, moving over to hug him from behind. "I met Dina, she seems sweet." He only hummed in response, as if he couldn't care any less. Deep down inside, Joel was upset. Upset that his little girl, the little girl he protected for years, was growing up. He would never let these feelings unravel though, despite it being obvious to you.

"You'll approve, I just know it." You mutter, barely loud enough for him to year. With a small sigh, he nods. "I know I will, just don't want some corrupt girl messin' with Ellie's all." You tap Joel's stomach, giving a bit of a don't worry, it won't reassurance. "Alright," you let go from him, standing up, "I lay a shirt out for you, go up and change."

He turns around, a slight glance down as he was taller than you were. "After you do what the thing says, sure." The thing Joel was referring to was the apron, and it said "Kiss The Cook" in bold. You completely take this opportunity and smash your hungry lips into Joel's. You couldn't help it, he was so hot when he was like this. Your hands managed to sneak down the apron, making your way down south. Joel had to pull back from the kiss before things got too heated.

Your cheeks were bright red, which spoke for itself. You left the kitchen with no further words to Joel, as he already knew what you were thinking. You hoped and prayed Dina and Ellie hadn't seen this encounter through the windows into the kitchen, because it would not have made a good first impression from the both of you.

As you sat outside with the two girls, you were the one keeping conversation going. Ellie was the only one engaged in it, Dina was definitely more reserved and you didn't want to push anything- but you couldn't help it.

"I'm seriously telling you guys! We would line up for hours and hours to be able to get against the barrier at these concerts. I remember doing it with my friends for Destiny's Ch-" You were abruptly cut off by Ellie, when she took notice of Joel coming through the patio doors. "Jesus Christ, finally! I'm starving, old man." If Dina wasn't visiting, you would scold Ellie like she was a little girl for interrupting you so rudely, but you didn't want to embarrass her in front of her girl.

Joel had placed the food down in the middle of the table, and finally took the seat next to you. He was in fact not wearing the maroon shirt you laid out for him, but instead one of his more casual and less dressy shirts. You tsked silently to yourself, he would definitely hear about this from you later.

"Wow, Mr. Miller- the food looks delicious, thank you so much!" Dina beamed. All three of you (you, Joel, and Ellie) stared at Dina. She looked around after realizing this, looking absolutely mortified. "Mr. Miller?" was echoed between the four of you, Joel and Ellie in sync expressing this. You let out a small and quick laugh, as Dina flushes bright red.

"Joel'll do, Dina." He said, sounding completely unphased. Dina had made small eye contact with Ellie as she was just laughing her ass off, it looked as if tears were threatening to spill from her eyes. "Holy fucking shit! Mr. Miller- Joel I'm crying." It was true, you could hear it in Ellie's voice.

"Alright now, stop embarrassing her Ellie." You shoot her a 'shut the fuck up' look, as if she suddenly became oblivious to her girlfriend. "Sorry 'bout this, Dina. You're going to have to get used to this." You shoot the girl a smile, and she breaks her sad look with a small smile reflecting yours.

After the absolute ridiculous laughing fit from Ellie, the table grew somewhat silent as everyone had fixed themselves portions for their dinner. The food was absolutely amazing, as per usual - thanks to Joel's cooking. There was a side of roasted potatoes and a nicely tossed salad. Usually the two of you never ate like this, it was always some sort of canned food from twenty years ago- but who were you to complain about this amazing meal you man had prepared?

"You know," Ellie began, stuffing her face with potatoes as if she hadn't eaten for weeks, "I think comfortable silence is so overrated." Dina shot her a look, almost complaining on why she had broken the comfortable silence by that comment. "I agree." Joel stated, as he leaned back in the patio seat. He laid one of his hands to rest on your thigh (under the table, in secret) and the other by his side. "What are your, how do I say this, intentions- with her?" Joel eyed Dina.

Jesus Christ, if this couldn't have gone more in the shit heap. You swatted the man beside you in the side, basically asking him what the fuck that was for. He ignored you, and kept his eyes trained on Dina. "Jesus fuck Joel!" Ellie raises her voice at him, he furrowed his eyebrows. Poor Dina looked like she was going to cry. You didn't blame her, if a man like Joel had asked you what your intentions were with someone, you would already be in tears.

Dina's plate was almost empty, so you used this to your advantage. "Dina, honey, mind helping me with something in the kitchen?" Without her giving you a response, you stand up (Joel's hand visibly falling off of your thigh) and grab Dina's hand, bringing her with you inside.

Once the door was completely shut, and the bickering between your man and your child grew louder, you sighed. "I am so, so sorry. He's just- Joel's just Joel." You had let go of Dina's hand, leaning against the kitchen island as she stood in front of you.

"It's no worries- I swear. My sister would be just like him too. Well, she was when she met Ellie." Dina hadn't sounded as horrified anymore, maybe because Joel wasn't in the room. "He's just looking out for her." The girl stated, and you nodded. You were in total agreement with Dina, Joel didn't want anyone hurting Ellie so he was extra cautious.

"He'll warm up to you, don't worry. Next time he'll welcome ya' with open arms, I promise." You reached out and patted her shoulder. "You know what, I think you should come over again next week. I found this cool vintage make-your-own-pizza thing that we could all do as- what, family bonding? Whatever they call it, you know what I mean." Dina laughed at this, she absolutely loved the idea.

As peace and a better relationship was being obtained inside of the house, Joel and Ellie were arguing outside, for the entire fucking neighbourhood to hear. It had just been so back and forth, until Joel put his foot down.

"Fuckin' enough!" He boomed at her, and she actually shut up for once in her life. "All I do is fuckin' care for ya'. I don't want ya' hurt, alright? Is it so hard for ya' t'understand?" Joel's voice was breaking, and Ellie heard it.

"Okay- fuck, fine. I know you are Joel, I just hate being wrong." Ellie tried to joke around with him, but he was not having any of it. "Sorry." She muttered, after taking note of this.

Now, Joel had felt bad for snapping at her - for snapping at Dina. The girl didn't do anything wrong, he was just having a rough day seeing his girl all grown up. With a long sigh, Joel spoke up. "Don't apologize kid, I should be the one apologizin'."

He was doing everything to avoid eye contact with Ellie. He had muttered something under his breath that Ellie didn't catch. "I didn't hear you, say it again." Joel finally met her eyes, inhaling. "I said, don't go around doin' anythin' I would do. Be careful with this girlfriend've yours." This immediately sent a smile shooting through Ellie's face. "Oh Joel, you big fucking softie."

"And," He became serious for a second, "Don't do anything- bad with her under this roof. I'on wanna hear any of it while I'm try'n sleep." Joel fell silent, and Ellie's mouth fell agap.

"You know, you are one to talk. I can hear when you and-" There was a cutoff in Ellie's sentence from both you and Dina remerging from the kitchen. You two were laughing quietly to each other, "Anything we miss?"

Dina had just left, and Ellie went with her to walk her home. You were proud of Ellie, for finding someone to love and being such a kind person to her. You were proud of Joel, for allowing Ellie to live her own life, as much as he wanted to always protect her.

"She's a nice girl." You stated, as you and Joel were sitting on your sofa together. Your head was rested on his chest, and you were playing with the ends of his flannel. Joel only hummed in response. You gently pulled on the fabric, "She is, Joel."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He managed to let escape his lips, trying his hardest not to sound mad at you. He wasn't mad at you, or Ellie, or Dina, he was mad at the fact that growing up was happening so quickly.

"Anyway," You began, "You're going to have to love her as your own. I've invited her for dinner next week again, and I'll probably invite her over again for the week after next." You can only smile to yourself, as Joel rubs his index finger up and down over the exposed skin on your waist.

"If Ellie wants me to love her, if you want me to love her, I will. It'll take time, but it'll happen." You feel the weight of Joel's head now balanced on top of yours. He would do anything in the entire world and more to make the two most important people in his life happy; Even if that meant letting someone else into his small circle of people he trusted.

"Joel." You hum, but there is no response. This doesn't stop you, "She'll always be your girl, Ellie. She'll always need you- and I will to. We're more appreciative of you then you think." After a minute of silence after you had said this to the man right next to you, you had deemed Joel had drifted off to sleep. Good, you thought to yourself, he didn't need to hear you being vulnerable for the millionth time again.

But, what you said was true. Joel opened up to Dina with the weeks to come - he trusted her, he loved her like she was his own. Not only did this make Ellie fucking ecstatic, but it made you over the moon. Joel would do anything for the people he loved, even if that meant opening himself up to strangers.

—

from the dining table, harry styles

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fanfic-obsessed · 10 months

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Merge the Timestream AU.

This came about because the amazing @bitter-chocolate-stars muse for the AU idea Merging the TimeStream flew out and bit me. I would highly recommend reading it first, because it is awesome and I could not do it justice.

Now onto the madness.

It is a mission to a Force Temple, old enough that no one knows which side of the Force it was for (or if it was for a specific side). There were rumors that there was an ancient artifact that could change the tides of the War, so The 212th and the 501st were dispatched to get it before the Separatists.

Five people went into the final chamber to search(There was a description of the artifact in the temple. Only four words had been able to be translated-Past, Present, Future, and Knowledge): Obi Wan Kenobi, Anaking Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano, Commander Cody, and Captain Rex.

It was these five people who were caught by the artifact. Each of these five were split into three. The present version of themselves, a future version, and a past version.

I bet you all can see where this is going.

Obi Wan’s past version is from Melida/Daan, two days before Cerasi died. The future is Old Ben, coming directly from his own beheading on the Death Star.

Anakin’s past is nine year old Anakin, hours before he would meet Qui Gon Jinn and Padme Amidala for the first time. The future is Vader (I hope none of you are surprised), a month after he cut off Luke’s hand, and just after he fully realized that it meant his and Padme’s child had always lived.

Ahsoka’s past is three years old, just Found by Plo Koon. Her future is Rebels Era Ahsoka, aka Fulcrum, before she found out that Vader was Anakin.

Rex’s past was a physically four year old cadet, the only survivor of his batch (who were decommissioned because of their blonde hair mutation-Rex’s scores were so high that he was kept). The future is Old Rex, post Empire (I always headcanon that Rex survives to see the end of the Empire because of spite).

Cody’s past is ARC Trainer Cody, after the war had started but before he was assigned to be Obi Wan’s commander. His future had just deserted the Empire and doesn’t even know about the chips yet.

Frankly it likely would have been better if one or more of those people had arrived unconscious. Alas this was not to be.

Upon arriving, Little Ahsoka immediately started crying to the visible concern of both Cadet Rex and Child Anakin (both were concerned about punishment at the noise). Before anyone could even think to do anything, Vader pointed a dramatic finger at Old Ben and went ‘You’ and followed up with ‘Why didn’t you tell me my son lived?’

Old Ben caulked his head, ‘Even leaving aside I thought I had left you for dead for a decade, Darth, why would I trust you with your children after the march on the temple?’

Now Darth Vader rocked back on his heels, “Children?” and then a moment later “Leia Organa”

Old Ben sighed deeply, ‘Surely we can both agree that the fact you tortured your daughter does prove me right to keep them from you.’

‘I cut off Luke’s hand too’ Vader said absently

Old Ben just buried his face in his hands.

Now all of this was with the background tune of little Ahsoka still crying. Former padawan Obi Wan is the one who reaches her first, and picks her up, smoothly herding Cadet Rex and Child Anakin behind him, away from the adults in the room. Former Padawan Obi Wan is radiating a vicious, desperate protectiveness.

The movement caused Old Ben to look away from Vader at the rest of the room. His brow furrows. He looks back at Vader, “Do you remember this?”

Vader’s black mask turns to take in the rest of the room, his breath rasps somehow louder than the crying Ahsoka. At last he says ‘I do not’.

Post Empire Rex snorts and says, with an unimpressed deadpan ‘It is probably Force Shit’.

It takes another half hour to get any kind of semblance of calm and start to piece together what is going on. In spite of the fact that neither Old Ben, nor Vader want to admit who they are (for different reasons), no one in the room is actually stupid.

There is a moment when Rex is obligated to give Old Ben shit for the fact that he told Luke that Vader killed Anakin Skywalker, to which Ben responds ‘I was just passing on what he’ points at Vader, ‘told me’.

At another moment Fulcrum throws up her hands and shoes at Old Ben ‘I thought you were dead, again. Why didn’t you tell me you survived.’ Old Ben blinks at her, ‘Leaving aside I also thought you were dead, my dear, for the last decade I have had the single highest bounty in the empire’ Old Ben looks to Vader, who nods solemnly after a moment, ‘I would have thought that would be telling.’ Fulcrum actually pouts and mutters, ‘I thought that was a plan by the Rebellion to draw Vader’s attention.’

There is just…so much trauma in this room. Like it is possible that this group has the highest concentration of trauma in the entire galaxy.

Deserter Cody appears to be having multiple concurrent panic attacks, his face swinging between Old Ben and General Obi Wan almost constantly. Between the residual guilt of having his general shot at, the horror of the long held belief that Cody had caused Obi Wan’s death, the combination of relief and horror at the news of the chip in his head, the combination of relief and confusion at Old Ben (who is proof that Obi Wan Kenobi did not die on Utapau), the confusion of being confronted with two other versions of himself all culminates in the fact that Deserter Cody is going through some things.

ARC Trainer Cody is going through less, mainly horror at the chips. He is also very much a shiny as far as his reactions to the Jedi are concerned. He is confused at being transported from Kamino, and does not know if he was transported to the future or they were tanspote to the past. Frankly by all measures ARC trainer Cody is one of the most stable people in the room.

Current Cody is sure that his younger self should not meet any members of Ghost Company on the basis that he would never live it down. He is also facing the horror of the chips, confusion at the triplicatation that is going on. His horror is that much deeper than his younger self because he knows and cares for Obi Wan (Light CodyWan for the win). He is also quite worried for his older self.

Melida/Daan Obi Wan is still not sure if he is willing to let any of the adults in the room near the other children. He is also doing slightly better with the fact that he grows up to be a general then the fact that he went back to the Jedi. He is also very much a child soldier with all the trauma therein.

Old Ben is not sure if this would be his heaven or his hell. On the one hand he could feel in the Force that he was before Order 66, all the lives he had felt snuff out were alive and well. On the other hand, there were three Anakins in the room, at least one of which hated him. Also he thought getting beheaded would get him out of dealing with more Skywalker BS.

General Obi Wan Kenobi is more than a little horrified. His connection to the Unified Force means that he is perceiving echoes of Order 66 through the future counterparts AND the variety of trauma that exists in the younger counterparts simultaneously. In addition, both his younger self and Anakin’s younger self are each triggering unresolved trauma.

Padawan Commander Ahsoka Tano is staring at her older self in awe, when she was not staring at Vader in horror. She has also been herded to one corner of the room by Former Padawan Obi Wan, despite the fact that she is 16 to his 14.

Fulcrum makes the decision that she CANNOT deal with the Vader/Anakin revelation at this point and is blocking it out. Instead she is staring at Old Ben. And glancing at her younger self, wondering how much being Anakin’s padawan had damaged her view of the Order.

Little Ahsoka has calmed, now that she was securely held by a warmer than average Cadet Rex.

Post Empire Rex is so, so done. This was supposed to be retirement. Being dragged back to the clone wars is not retirement. It was nice to see Fulcrum again though.

Cadet Rex is the definition of stress. He is not sure what test is going on, nor who these new trainers were but he would not fail.

Captain Rex is not sure what to do with the proof that he would survive the war. Nor the fate of his general as he stares at the tall black clad being.

Darth Vader, in addition to all the issues he always carries, is looking at his younger self covetously. Had he had a way he would have tried to possess his younger self, who has everything he wants. At the same time he wants to sit this younger version down and tell him exactly how to avoid everything that Vader is (It should be noted that Vader has no idea how to avoid all that Vader is). He is also boiling angry at every version of Obi Wan, though distantly looks at the little angry version and wonders if this was a way to get his brother back. The knowledge of Luke’s survival is drawing him back toward the single selfless thing he has done in decades, but he is still very much a Sith.

Child Anakin is deeply confused and frankly ecstatic that he hasn’t blown up yet. It is very clear they are not on Tatooine and nowhere near Watto. He is also not impressed that he somehow escaped slavery only to become enslaved again (in his perception Vader is also chip controlled and thus enslaved).

General Anakin Skywalker is freaked out by Vader, who is radiating a weird greed at him, and also by the implications of everything the future people have said. He is also heartbroken over Palpatine being evil (even Vader agrees, in his own way, that Palpatine is evil). Everything strikes deep enough that Anakin actually decided he needed a therapist (There is something about the casual way that Vader talks about torturing Anakin and Padme’s children that cements that decision).

It turns out that the Artifact is the entire temple, so removing it is not feasible.

Like in the original idea, I am not sure if the past and future versions find themselves eventually returning to their own times, or if they are stuck in the present. Though there is something that is amusing about the Jedi now having to deal with three of each of these five people, one of which is a Sith. Particularly since Vader both wants to kill them all and wants to protect them all (to prevent Anakin’s Fall).

It does change so many things though.

#star wars the clone wars #star wars #fanfiction prompt #star wars au #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #codywan #anidala #bamf obi wan

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jrob64 · 3 months

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Pet for Rent, Chapter 1/4 (The Meet Cute) A CS Modern AU Story

For those of you who read "Sowing Seeds of Trust", you might remember that my dog Zeke had a starring role in it. To my great heartbreak, he died of cancer last June. When we rescued him, the shelter had named him Ernie, and he will be referenced with that name in this story.

Life without a dog proved to be very lonely, so at the end of August, we rescued another dog. The sad story of the dog in this story is what really happened to our new dog. He was named Norman and we renamed him Winston, just like in the story. That's actually him in the pic set with his 'ducky'.

This was supposed to be a short, sweet story, but somehow turned into 4 chapters. Updates will be once a week.

Special thanks to my beta @hookedmom and also to @beckettj and @zaharadessert for helping me understand the football (soccer) system in England.

SUMMARY: Emma Swan tries to cheer up her heartbroken son by 'renting' a dog from the local animal shelter. When she attempts to do it a second time, she makes a mistake, and realizes the dog has been rented by someone else the same day - a very handsome man named Killian Jones.

RATING: M (for smut in the last chapter, which can easily be skipped if that's not your thing)

WORDS: 7754

ALSO POSTED TO A03 & FFN

Story begins under the cut

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Emma Swan flopped down onto her sofa with a sigh. Since their beloved dog Ernie died three weeks ago, she had come to dread her eight-year-old son Henry’s bedtime. Every night when he said his prayers, he ended with, “God, please tell Ernie I love him and miss him, and please send me another dog. Amen.”

Her son knew the chances of getting a dog were slim to none because of his soccer practices and games, and Emma’s schedule for her new job at the sheriff’s station. They had no time to train a puppy.

Understanding why he couldn’t have a dog didn’t make his heart hurt any less. Her heart was just as broken, knowing the sadness and loneliness Henry was experiencing.

After decompressing for a few minutes, Emma’s searching hand located her phone on the end table. She unlocked it and opened her Discord app, selecting the icon representing the parents’ group of Henry’s second grade class. Sitting up a little straighter, she typed a message: Does anyone have ideas of how to help Henry get over the loss of his dog? He keeps praying for a new one, but it wouldn’t be fair to the dog to get one with our busy schedule.

She watched the screen intently for a couple of minutes, but when no names appeared to show that someone was answering, she tossed the phone onto the couch and went into the kitchen to load the dishwasher.

Forty minutes later, after cleaning up the kitchen, going through her nightly routine and changing into her pajamas, she went back into the living room. Television held no interest for her, and realizing she finished her last library book the previous evening, she picked up her phone to mindlessly play a game. Upon unlocking it, her screen opened to the Discord page and she saw three replies to her question.

The first two simply expressed sympathy for the loss of Ernie, but the third one offered a helpful suggestion. Have you thought about ‘renting’ a dog for a day? The animal shelter just outside of town offers that option. We did it for my mother when her Maltese died. The post ended with the web address for the shelter.

Emma immediately pulled up the site and, after searching the homepage, clicked on the tab for ‘services’. Scrolling down the list, she saw ‘Rent-a-Pet’ and selected it. As she read the description of how the program worked, she idly twisted strands of blonde hair around her index finger.

It sounded like a great compromise for their situation. For a donation to the shelter in the form of money, bags of pet food, treats or toys, one of the available animals could come home with them for several hours. The dogs and cats were guaranteed to be docile and house-trained, and could be adopted by the ‘renter’, if desired.

Clicking on the link taking her to the bios of the pets currently housed at the shelter, she filtered it to include only canines. Pictures of nearly two dozen dogs filled the screen, each more adorable and aww-worthy than the last.

Quickly ruling out any that were guaranteed to shed fur all over her house or were bigger than her son, her search was narrowed to nine prospects. She knew her rambunctious son would be keen to play outside with the dog and walk him or her to Storybrooke’s dog park, so a tiny fru-fru pup was out of the question, too. That left six.

She selected one at a time, reading about their breed and temperament. When she brought up the picture of the fourth candidate, the big, chocolate brown eyes and happy expression nearly made her heart melt.

‘Norman’ was a mixed breed and very little was known about him, because he was found tied to a stop sign in the middle of Portland, Maine. He was guessed to be a cocker spaniel mix and was approximately 1-2 years old. His black fur looked sleek and Emma knew he probably wouldn’t shed. A short video showed him romping and playing with another dog in the fenced play yard of the shelter.

Saving the page, she brought up the calendar on her phone and checked their schedule for the rest of the week. Henry had an early soccer game on Saturday, which would be over by 10:30, leaving the rest of the morning and afternoon free. Switching back to the shelter website, she hit the ‘Rent-a-Pet’ button again and began filling in the information, selecting ‘Norman’ when it gave her the choice of animals.

She decided not to tell Henry about the plan, opting to surprise him with it instead.

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“Great game, kid,” Emma complimented her son, ruffling his sweaty hair. “Your pass to Avery was a nice assist. That goal turned out to be the game winner.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Henry grinned around his mouthful of granola bar. “That’s the first time all season we beat the orange team.”

“I know, and I think that calls for a celebration, don’t you?” Emma fished her car keys out of her jeans pocket, before picking up her lawn chair and water bottle.

“Are we gonna get ice cream?” he asked, before cramming the rest of his snack into his mouth.

“You just ate a granola bar and a banana, and lunch will be in just an hour or so,” she laughed. “I have something else in mind.”

“Whaisit?” he queried, the unswallowed food muffling his voice.

“Well, I know how much you miss Ernie, and Violet’s mom told me about a program at the animal shelter that lets you rent a pet for a few hours,” she answered slowly, watching his reaction out of the corner of her eye. “So, I signed up to get a dog for you to play with until three o’clock this afternoon.”

Henry stopped in his tracks, swallowing down the rest of his snack as his eyes grew wide. “Really? You can do that?”

“Yeah, we’re scheduled to pick him up at eleven. What do you think about that?”

His exuberant shout of joy and sprint to the car was all the answer she needed.

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Emma couldn’t keep up with her son once he unstrapped his safety belt, exited the car and bounded toward the front door of the shelter. He was already ringing the little bell on the counter for service before she made it inside and chided him lightly for not waiting for her.

A tall, broad-shouldered man with sandy hair and light blue eyes entered through a door, the barking of dogs stifled when it clicked shut behind him. He gave them a dazzling smile and greeted them warmly with a hearty ‘good morning’.

Emma reached forward to shake his hand. “Hi, I’m Emma Swan and this is my son, Henry.”

“David Nolan,” he responded, shaking her hand, then doing the same with Henry.

“My teacher’s name is Mrs. Nolan, the same as yours,” the boy told him.

“You wouldn’t happen to be in second grade at Storybrooke Elementary, would you?” David asked.

“Yeah,” Henry confirmed.

“Ah, well, that means your teacher is my wife!”

“Wow, cool!” Henry exclaimed. “She’s the best teacher I ever had!”

David’s grin grew even wider. “That’s good to hear. She tells me all about her students every evening and she thinks yours is the best class she’s ever had!”

“It’s quite a coincidence, meeting you here,” Emma commented with a smile.

“I’ll be sure to tell Mary Margaret I met the two of you. Now, what can I do for you today?”

Emma pulled her phone out of her purse, unlocked it, and tapped on the screen a few times. Then she laid it on the counter and turned it to show David. “I signed up for the Rent-a-Pet program. Here’s the email with my confirmation.”

David peered down at the screen and used his finger to scroll down a bit. “I see you chose Norman,” he commented, looking up at her.

“Um, yeah. Is he a good dog? I don’t want any messes in my house or car.”

“He’s a great dog,” he assured her, reaching back to the wall behind him to lift a leash off of a hook. “Gets along well with other dogs, seems to love kids, and is generally a very happy little guy.”

Henry bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “Can we take him to the dog park? Ernie always loved going to the dog park.” His countenance dropped, a small cloud of sadness passing across his features.

David shared an understanding look with Emma. “Of course you can take him. I’m sure he will love it! Would you like to come back with me to get him?”

The boy turned to look at his mother. “Can I?”

“Sure, kid. I think I’ll come back, too, if Mr. Nolan doesn’t mind.”

“The more, the merrier,” David said cheerfully.

He waited until they joined him on the other side of the counter, then opened the door to the large room full of animal cages. Immediately, the sound of barking, howling and meows filled their ears.

“They get very excited when they know someone is coming back here. I think the animals closest to the door are spies and tell the others,” David joked, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

Emma walked behind Henry, watching him turn his head left and right to peer at the occupants of all of the pens.

“Aw, Mom, look at that little puppy! He’s so cute! Aw, that dog seems sad. I bet he doesn’t like being in a cage. Look Mom, they have cats here, too.” His litany was continuous as they slowly walked down the aisle between the enclosures.

Finally, David stopped in front of a pen and turned to them, gesturing toward the dog inside. “This is Norman. He has a sad story, but he’s kept his sweet temperament, haven’t you, boy?”

As if in answer, the black dog stood up, his tail starting to wag as he realized the man was talking about him. Henry dropped to his knees in front of the cage, placing his hands against the wire. “Hi, Norman! My name is Henry. Would you like to come home with us for a little while?” The dog’s tail was wagging so fast, his entire body wiggled. “I think he understands me, Mom!” Henry said excitedly.

As David slipped inside the pen to clip the leash to Norman’s collar, Emma asked, “Has he ever been rented before?”

“Several times,” David answered, straightening up once he had the leash attached. “He’s always done really well.” Opening the door of the kennel again, he allowed the dog to go ahead of him, out to where the boy still knelt.

“Hi, boy,” Henry crooned, running his hands over the dog’s head.

Emma bent down and stroked the sleek fur on Norman’s back and sides. “He’s so soft,” she commented.

“He appears to have the coat of a cocker spaniel,” David said, “but he’s definitely a mixed breed.” He watched the boy and dog interact for a few seconds before holding out the looped end of the leash. “Would you like to lead him out to the lobby, Henry?”

He looked up at Emma with hopeful eyes. “Is that okay, Mom?”

“How is he on a leash?” she asked David. “He won’t pull my kid’s arm out of the socket, will he?”

David laughed. “He does fairly well, but if he gets excited, he can get pretty rambunctious. He’ll be fine just going to the lobby, but you might have to walk him out to your car instead of Henry.”

“Sounds like a deal, kid,” she said, giving him a nod of approval.

Henry eagerly accepted the leash and started off down the aisle. “Come on, Norman. Come on, boy. You’re gonna like it at our house. We still have some of Ernie’s toys and balls.”

Emma and David trailed behind. “How long ago did you lose your dog?” he asked.

“Almost a month and Henry is really struggling with it. He and Ernie were best buds.”

“I’m sorry. That’s rough, especially for a kid.”

“And his mom,” Emma added. “I never realized how much I loved that dog, until he got sick and I knew we were going to lose him.”

“Hopefully, Norman will give you both a few hours of enjoyment and help ease the heartache a bit,” David said, before hurrying forward to pull the door open for Henry and the dog.

While David printed off the paperwork, Norman sniffed around Henry, who sat cross-legged on the floor, giggling when the dog licked his ears. “Ernie used to do that too, remember, Mom?”

Emma smiled down at him. “Yeah, you must have very tasty ears. Maybe you should start washing them better.”

“I won’t need to, after Norman washes them!”

She turned back to finish signing the papers. “It’s nice to hear him laughing again. He hasn’t done much of that lately,” she confided to David.

“I think this will be good for both of you and Norman. He really likes being around people. I’m very surprised he hasn’t been adopted yet.”

“Do you think there’s a reason for that?”

David shrugged. “This tends to be a slow time of the year for adoptions. Summer is over and school is back in session, so people don’t have as much time to welcome a new dog into their house.”

“That’s the boat we’re in right now,” Emma commented.

“Once it gets closer to Christmas, people will come in looking for pets to give as gifts. That’s good, but also bad, because about a quarter of them are brought back when they realize a pet is more work than they anticipated.”

“We got Ernie from the shelter when Henry was two. He was already five years old, house-trained and had all of the annoying puppy behaviors out of his system.”

“Most people want puppies instead of adult dogs, but there are a lot of advantages to getting an older dog.”

“Norman doesn’t seem to be very old.”

“I’d say at least two, but he’s pretty chill. Once he runs out of energy, he becomes a couch potato.” David collected the paperwork and tapped it on the counter to straighten it. “Well, that’s all I need from you. Norman is yours until three o’clock.”

“Yay!” Henry shouted, causing the dog to start barking.

Emma reached down to take the leash. “Don’t get him all riled up right before we put him in the car, kid.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Henry apologized. “I just can’t wait to get him home! Can he sit in the back with me?”

“Sure, but first you need to thank Mr. Nolan.”

Henry popped up from the floor and looked back at David. “Thanks, Mr. Nolan! I’ll take good care of Norman, I promise!”

“My pleasure, Henry. Have fun!” David grinned.

Mother and son exited the building, with Norman leading the way, tugging excitedly on the leash. “Slow down, pup,” Emma laughed.

Henry ran ahead to open the door of the yellow Volkswagen Beetle, sliding the front seat forward and clambering into the back. As soon as Norman reached the car, he hopped in and sat on the seat beside Henry like he’d done it every day of his life.

“Well, that was easy,” Emma commented, removing the loop of the leash from her wrist and tossing it beside the dog. After closing the door, she circled around behind the car to get into the driver’s seat. She looked into the rearview mirror and choked up at the sight meeting her eyes. Henry had his arms wrapped around Norman’s neck with his eyes closed and his head resting against the dog’s.

Emma was sure the time with Norman was going to be good for both boy and dog, but she couldn’t help but worry about what would happen when it came time to bring him back to the shelter.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma was barely able to get Henry to eat when they got home, and had to reprimand him for sneaking Norman bits of his sandwich. The dog, for his part, sat politely while they ate, not begging or whining. She was impressed with his behavior, remembering how she had to break Ernie from begging at the table when they first adopted him.

Henry and Norman bonded quickly as they chased each other around the small backyard, playing with a tennis ball and squeaky toys from Ernie’s toy basket. Emma sat on their small patio, thoroughly enjoying the sounds of happy barking and her son’s laughter. She pulled out her phone and took a picture, posting it to the Discord group and tagging Violet’s mom to thank her for the idea of renting a pet.

Just after two o’clock, Emma suggested taking Norman to the dog park before going back to the shelter. They played there for forty minutes, then the three of them returned home and piled back into the car. Once again, she caught sight in the mirror of her son hugging the dog and sighed, but instead of dreading Norman’s return, she decided to enjoy every minute of happiness it was bringing to Henry…and herself.

Their time with the dog was over all too soon. After Emma parked the car at the shelter, Henry got out of the car and trudged to the door with the leash gripped tightly in his hand. Norman seemed to sense the boy’s mood and walked slowly beside him, his head hanging low.

David was at the desk to greet them again, an understanding look at his face at the dejected look of all three of them. “Was he good for you?” he asked.

“He was great,” Emma answered, rubbing her hand soothingly over her son’s back. “Wasn’t he, kid?”

“Yeah,” Henry quietly agreed, his eyes trained on the floor.

“You know, you’re welcome to rent Norman, or any of our other dogs, anytime you want,” David said.

Henry looked up. “But what if someone adopts him?”

“Well, that would be a good thing for Norman,” Emma reminded him.

“I guess,” Henry sighed. He knelt down beside the dog, wrapping him up in another hug. “I’ll miss you, boy, but maybe I’ll see you again.” The dog licked his cheek, eliciting a small giggle. Then Henry stood and held the leash out to David. “Thank you, Mr. Nolan. I had a lot of fun with Norman.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” David said, accepting the leash and moving around the counter. Patting the dog on the head, he added, “I hope we’ll see you again, soon.”

Henry turned pleading eyes to his mother. “Can we do it again next weekend, Mom?”

“You have Avery’s birthday party next Saturday, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Henry nodded, then bit his lip in contemplation. “The next weekend, then?”

Emma laughed. “We’ll see.” She leaned down to pet the dog’s head. “Be a good boy, Norman. You’re welcome at our house anytime.”

After saying their goodbyes, they watched David take the dog toward the door leading to the back. Norman turned and gave them a sad look before following the shelter worker through it, tearing at Emma’s heart even more.

She swallowed hard and said, “Come on, kid. Let’s go home.”

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

The sadness soon wore off and for the next several days, Henry talked almost incessantly about all of the fun he had with Norman. Emma checked their schedule and saw that Henry had another early game three weeks later, which would be the last game of the soccer season. She relayed that news to Henry, asking him if he wanted to rent Norman again that day, and was answered with a very enthusiastic ‘YES!’

She nearly forgot to make the reservation, only remembering three days before, while waiting to pick Henry up from practice. Quickly, she pulled up the website and filled out the form, glancing up often to see if Henry was coming off the field because she always liked to meet him as soon as he did, instead of waiting for him in the car.

Emma was especially glad they decided to rent Norman Saturday, since Henry’s soccer team lost their final game by one goal. His downcast look was soon replaced with excitement when she reminded him that they would be going to the shelter.

When they arrived, he bounded out of the car and waited impatiently for his mom to join him, before practically sprinting to the door. It took a couple of minutes before David emerged from the back, beaming a smile when he saw them waiting at the counter.

“Henry! Emma! I’m very happy to see you again!”

“We’re here to get Norman,” Henry said excitedly.

A puzzled look crossed David’s face. “I’m sorry, but Norman is already being rented by somebody else today,” he informed them.

“What?” Henry asked, a slight tremor in his voice. Then he turned to Emma. “But Mom, you said we would be getting Norman.”

Emma was already pulling the email up on her phone. “There must be some mistake, Mr. Nolan. I reserved Norman when I filled out the form. See?”

She turned her phone for the worker to see it. David looked at it carefully, then pointed to the screen. “It looks like you didn’t ask for a specific dog.”

“I didn’t?” she questioned, then looked at her phone more closely, her heart dropping when she saw the blank space beside the ‘requested animal’ inquiry. “Oh, Henry. I’m so sorry. I was in a hurry when I filled it out and I must have missed that question.”

“We have several other dogs,” David consoled. “I’m sure you’ll have just as much fun with one of them.”

“No I won’t,” Henry pouted. “I only want Norman.”

“Henry…” Emma started, but was interrupted when the door behind her opened.

“Good morning, Dave,” said a deep voice with a distinctive British accent.

Emma turned to see the newcomer and nearly swallowed her tongue. The man standing before her had to be a mirage, because surely someone that handsome didn’t really exist. He had a lean physique clad in dark jeans and a maroon henley, with a tantalizing view of chest hair peeking out of the unbuttoned neckline. A black leather jacket completed his ensemble. His chiseled jawline was covered with a pleasing amount of scruff and his dark, windblown hair was falling over his forehead. He sported a wide grin and, between that and his deep blue eyes, Emma was mesmerized.

She was suddenly very aware of her own appearance. Henry’s early game meant she had thrown on a pair of sweatpants, donned an old hoodie and stuffed a beanie over her barely brushed hair that morning. Her face was free of makeup, unless you counted a few stray flecks of mascara that stubbornly refused to come off when she washed her face the previous evening.

“Hey, Killian,” David greeted.

The man’s - Killian’s - eyes had settled on Emma, a glint of curiosity evident in them.

“Oh, um, come on Henry,” she said, after several moments of silence. “Let’s get out of this man’s way.”

“But Mommmm…” he whined.

Emma put her hand on his shoulder and guided him away from the counter. “We’ll figure something out, kid.”

“I’m in no hurry, Miss,” Killian began.

“No, it’s okay,” she hurried to assure him. “I’m afraid I created a problem that might take a while to straighten out, so please, go ahead.”

“In that case, thank you very much,” he smiled. Turning his eyes to David, he asked, “Is Winston ready?”

Emma was surprised to see the genial shelter worker furrow his brow at the other man. “Why do you insist on calling him that?”

Killian shrugged. “He looks like a Winston to me, and he answers to that name when he’s at my house.”

David glanced at Emma and Henry and opened his mouth to say something, but apparently changed his mind. Grabbing a leash off of a hook, he said, “Give me a minute,” then he pushed the door open and disappeared into the back.

“Are you adopting a dog today?” Henry asked Killian.

“Alas, no. I just moved into a small apartment here three months ago and am still trying to get everything organized and put away. Being in a new town has been a bit lonely at times, so I’ve been coming here now and then to borrow a dog for a few hours.”

“That’s why we’re here, but somebody is taking the dog I want,” Henry grumbled.

“Henry, that’s enough,” Emma reprimanded. “You haven’t even looked at any of the other dogs.”

“None of them will be as good as Norman.”

Killian’s brows raised. “Did you say Nor-”

Just then, the door behind the counter opened and David came through, trying to control a very excited dog.

“Norman!” Henry cheered, dropping to his knees. The dog started jumping toward him, wildly licking his face as soon as he reached the boy.

“I thought you said he was already rented today,” Emma questioned David.

“He is,” he replied, looking pointedly at Killian.

Emma followed his gaze and saw the other man watching the interaction between Henry and the dog with a sheepish look on his face. The pieces began to click together and she asked, “Wait a minute - is Norman the dog you’re renting today?”

“Aye,” Killian confirmed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Looks like we’re here for the same dog.”

“But you called him by another name,” Emma continued.

“He’s the dog I’ve rented every time and he just doesn’t seem like a Norman to me, so I started calling him Winston,” Killian explained.

All three adults stood looking at the whirlwind of fur jumping all over Henry, who was giggling so much, he could hardly catch his breath.

Finally, Killian spoke. “It seems as though Win-, I mean, Norman, has made his choice. Please let Henry and…his mother have the dog today, Dave.”

“Emma,” she informed him. “My name is Emma Swan, and you don’t have to do that. You had him reserved first. Besides, Henry needs to learn he can’t always have his way.”

“I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my time with the dog, knowing how sad it would make Henry,” Killian responded. He took a step forward and offered Emma his hand to shake. “I’m Killian Jones, by the way. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Emma.”

As they shook hands, David cleared his throat. “Um, I have an idea of how to work this out. It’s a nice day, so why don’t all of you take Norman to the dog park together?”

Emma and Killian both whipped their heads around to stare at him. He seemed to shrink back a bit before stammering, “I mean, that way you could all spend time with him and get to know each other at the same time. You’ve been saying you’d like to meet more people in Storybrooke, Killian, and that’s where Henry and Emma live.” Looking at Emma, he added, “I’ve gotten to know Killian pretty well because he sings in the church choir with me and Mary Margaret. He’s a good guy.”

Emma slowly turned her eyes back to the very handsome man whose hand she suddenly realized she was still holding. She dropped it quickly, as she felt a blush heating her cheeks. Then she looked at Henry, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor with Norman sprawled across his lap. He was looking up at her with hope in his eyes.

Meeting Killian’s gaze once again, she asked, “What do you think?”

“I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position, Emma.”

“You wouldn’t have to go all the way back into Storybrooke,” David said. “There’s a small dog park at the end of the walking path, where a lot of people take dogs they’re thinking of adopting.”

“Please, Mom?” Henry pleaded. “Norman would like that, wouldn’t you, boy?”

Emma took a look at the pair and groaned, “It’s bad enough when you use the puppy dog eyes on me, kid. Now you’ve got the dog doing it, too.”

Killian chuckled lowly, the sound of it making Emma’s stomach flip in a very pleasant way. “I would hate to disappoint the two of them, so I’m game if you are, lass.”

Emma chewed her lip in contemplation for a few seconds, before saying, “Okay, but on one condition - you let me pay half of the rental fee.”

“I already paid the fee online,” Killian said.

“So did I, so I guess that takes care of that.”

“Not really,” David said. “You both paid, but you’re only renting one dog. I should reimburse each of you half of the fee.”

“Keep it,” Emma and Killian answered at the same time, then both laughed.

“The shelter can always use a little extra money, can’t it, Mr. Nolan?” Emma asked.

“Please call me David. And of course we can, if you’re both sure you don’t mind.”

As soon as they affirmed their answer, David walked around the counter and picked up the end of the leash. Handing it to Emma, he said, “In that case, Norman-slash-Winston is yours for the next four hours. You can bring him back sooner, if you like, but I’m sure he’s going to love getting out for a while. Oh, and if you get hungry, there’s usually a couple of food trucks near the dog park on Saturdays. Have fun!”

Emma and Killian thanked him, then went out the door with Norman straining at the leash, and Henry skipping along beside him. They quickly found the sign marking the path and started walking it.

After several paces, Killian turned to Emma and asked, “Is it me, or do you feel like David just set us up?”

“One hundred percent,” Emma laughed.

“How long have you known him?”

“David?” she questioned. At his hum of affirmation, she said, “Henry and I rented Norman three weeks ago and that was the first time I met him. David, I mean, not Norman. Well, it was the first time we met Norman, too. His wife is Henry’s teacher. Again, I mean she’s David’s wife, not Norman’s.” She knew she was rambling, but the thought of spending several hours with the gorgeous stranger was making her nervous.

Killian laughed. “That’s a relief. I borrowed Win-, uh, Norman three times and he never once mentioned being married.”

It was Emma’s turn to laugh - mostly because what he said was funny, but also in relief that he responded to her embarrassing prattling with humor, instead of judgment.

“So, if Dave just met you, he probably doesn’t even know if you’re married or dating anyone. That was a little presumptuous of him.”

“Are you fishing for information, Mr. Jones?” Emma teased.

“Killian will do,” he grinned. “And…perhaps?”

Before she could answer, Henry ran back to join them. “Can I take Norman, Mom? He’s walking really well on the leash, so I don’t think he’ll yank my arm out of the socket.”

She looked at Killian, who raised an eyebrow with a bemused look on his face.

“That’s something I said when we picked Norman up the last time,” she explained. Handing the loop of the leash to Henry, she said, “Don’t get too far ahead of us, kid.”

“We won’t,” he tossed over his shoulder.

Emma turned her attention back to the man beside her. “To answer your non-question Killian, no, I am not married or dating anyone. It’s just Henry and me, and always has been. When I told his father I thought I might be pregnant, he didn’t even stick around long enough to find out if I was or not.”

Killian absorbed this news for a few moments before responding, “If you don’t mind me saying, it sounds as if the two of you might be better off without someone like that, anyway.”

“Oh, definitely. Henry is more mature at eight than his sperm donor was as an adult. I was young and foolish, but I had to grow up fast once I became a single mother.” She watched her son trying to get Norman to walk beside him, then turned to look at Killian. “Sorry, that is a lot more information than I’m sure you wanted to know.”

“No need to apologize, Emma. I did ask, in a roundabout way.”

“So what’s your story? Did you move here from England, or am I misreading your accent?”

“You got it right,” he chuckled, then took a deep breath. “There was nothing left for me in England. My brother moved here soon after our mother died two years ago, and once I found out my girlfriend was actually a married woman, I needed a fresh start.”

“Ouch,” Emma commented.

“Aye, and now I’ve probably shared more than you wanted to know.”

“We’ll call it even, and promise to talk about much lighter subjects for the rest of the day,” Emma said.

“Deal.”

“You said your brother moved here. Does that mean he lives in Storybrooke?”

“Aye, he followed his heart and it led him straight to this quaint little town.”

“Who does he date, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“He’s engaged to the town librarian, Belle French.”

“Liam is your brother? I guess I should have figured that out since your last name is Jones.”

“It’s a very common name, lass. Yes, Liam is my brother. I gather you know him?”

“Belle is one of my best friends, so I know him through her. She used to babysit for Henry quite often, when I was a waitress at Granny’s.”

“Ah, the famous Granny’s Diner!” Killian exclaimed. “I visit that establishment frequently. She makes the best lasagna.”

“I think you meant to say the best grilled cheese and onion rings,” Emma grinned mischieviously.

“I’ve yet to try those particular delicacies,” he smirked.

“Try them,” she advised. “I guarantee you’ll love them.”

Looking ahead, they saw they were nearing the dog park and picked up their pace. They caught up with Henry and Norman just before reaching the entrance. There were about a half-dozen dogs running around the park, some loose and others on leashes.

“I think it would be a good idea for Mr. Jones to take Norman before we go in,” Emma told Henry. “He’ll be able to control him better if he gets too excited.”

“Okay,” Henry said, willingly handing over the leash.

“Thanks, lad,” Killian smiled.

Henry went through the first gate, holding it open for his mom, followed by Killian and Norman. When they were all in the buffer zone, Henry opened the next gate leading into the main part of the park.

“You’re raising quite the gentleman, Emma,” Killian commented, after he entered with the dog.

“He has his moments.”

They all watched Norman as he began sniffing around excitedly, then pulling on the leash when he noticed the other canines sharing his space. He nearly yanked Killian off of his feet with his enthusiasm to meet new friends.

The next twenty minutes were spent chasing the dog and trying to settle him down. After a few of the other owners left with their animals, Henry found a tennis ball and engaged Norman in a game of fetch. The adults sat on a bench to observe the pair, laughing at the clumsiness of the dog.

Emma noticed Killian rubbing his shoulder. “Alright there, Jones?”

“I think he might have pulled my arm out of the socket, Swan,” he quipped.

“Very funny, smart guy,” she said, making him laugh again. They watched for a few more minutes before Emma asked, “Do you have a job in Storybrooke? I started working at the sheriff’s station three months ago and I don’t remember seeing you around town.”

“I’m an architect. I was able to keep my job with the firm in England by working online and attending meetings with clients and my colleagues via Zoom. All of my time is spent in my office at home. It’s not ideal, but I appreciate my boss being willing to make concessions for me.”

“Do you plan to get a job here eventually?”

“Aye, if I decide to stay.”

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“I’m used to the hustle and bustle of a big city. Living in Storybrooke has been quite an adjustment.”

“I get that. We moved here from Boston when Henry was two. Granny’s granddaughter, Ruby, was our neighbor there, and when she decided to move back, she talked me into coming with her. At first, I had a hard time getting used to the peace and quiet. That was one reason why I adopted Ernie - just to have a little more noise in the house.”

“Ernie?” Killian questioned.

“Oh, he was our dog. We had him for six years, but he died a couple of months ago.” She pulled her phone out of the pouch of her hoodie and swiped to reveal her lock screen. “This is a picture of Henry with him.”

“Beautiful animal,” Killian commented sincerely, taking in the photo of the brown and white spaniel. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks,” Emma sighed, locking her phone and returning it to the pocket. “Henry grew up with him and he’s had a really hard time with it. Someone suggested renting a pet from the shelter to help him work through it, and that’s how we ended up renting Norman.”

“They seem to really like each other.”

“Yeah, they got along great the first time. That’s why I signed up to get him again, but I was in a hurry when I filled out the form and forgot to ask for a specific dog.”

“Ah, that explains the mix-up,” Killian remarked.

Another half hour passed while they chatted easily, until Henry came over and flopped down on the ground, quickly joined by Norman. “I’m hungry, Mom. Can we get something to eat?”

“Sure, kid. Put Norman back on his leash and we’ll go find those food trucks Mr. Nolan mentioned.”

They soon located the food trucks just down the sidewalk from the park. After discussing their options, they decided to get pulled pork sandwiches from the barbeque place. It was obvious that people who took their pets to the dog park frequented the food trucks, because each one had bowls of water set out in front of them and containers of dog biscuits on their condiment tables.

While they waited for their food, Henry tried to teach Norman to sit, rewarding him with pieces of the biscuits when he obeyed.

“He’s very good with him,” Killian noted.

“He prays for another dog every night, but our schedule is so busy right now. Plus, it’s such a big responsibility and I’m not sure Henry is ready for it. I might be wrong about that though, seeing how he is with Norman.”

After eating, they followed the sidewalk a little further and spotted a playground. Emma and Killian sat on a bench, with Norman sitting between them as they watched Henry play on the equipment.

“You know, we’ve lived in Storybrooke for six years and I never knew this playground existed,” Emma commented. “We don’t come this way very often, because whenever we go out of town, we take the road going south.”

“It appears to be fairly new,” Killian observed. “Perhaps they constructed it when they built those apartments over there, because they don’t look like they’ve been there very long.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I remember when they were being constructed a couple of years after we moved here, which means they’re less than five years old.”

They lost sight of Henry for a few seconds when he climbed a ladder up into a tower. Suddenly they heard him shout, “Hey, Mom! Look what I found!” and saw him coming down a twisting slide with his arms over his head, clutching a tattered looking soccer ball.

He landed at the bottom and came running over to them. “Someone must have forgotten this at the top of the tower. Wanna kick it around with me?”

“Sure, kid,” Emma answered, hopping up from the bench. “It looks a bit deflated. Are you sure it’s even going to roll?”

“It’ll be fine,” he assured her. Placing it on the ground, he gave it a kick and watched it roll across the grass. “See?”

A black streak flew past him, with Killian following close behind shouting, “Wins-, I mean, Norman! Come back here!”

The dog ignored him, but stopped when he got to the soccer ball. He was trying to pick it up in his mouth when the three humans reached him. Killian was able to kick it away from him, directly to Emma, who stopped it with her foot, then booted it over to Henry. Norman ran from one to the other, in hot pursuit of the elusive ball.

The ‘keep away’ game kept them entertained for a long time. They ran, shouting instructions to each other and laughing until all of them were completely out of breath. Norman was able to intercept some of their passes, but they always managed to get it away from him before he was able to pick it up and run off.

Finally, Emma declared that she had to take a break. Picking up Norman’s leash, she said, “I think we should take him back to the food trucks to get a drink and buy a couple of bottles of water.”

“Aww, Mom,” Henry complained. “I’m not ready to go yet. Can’t I stay here? Killian will stay with me, won’t you, Killian?”

“First of all, you should call him Mr. Jones, and secondly, you’re putting him on the spot, which isn’t cool,” Emma admonished.

Henry looked appropriately chagrined. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jones.”

“Thank you, Henry, but if I may be so bold, I don’t mind you calling me Killian. That is, if it’s okay with your mother.”

Henry looked to his mom, who considered for a few seconds, then gave him a nod of approval.

Killian put his arm across Henry’s shoulders and walked him the short distance to where Emma was standing. “I’d be happy to go get the water, Emma.” He took the end of Norman’s leash from her. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”

While he was gone, Emma sat on the bench watching Henry continue to kick the soccer ball around. Killian and Norman returned a few minutes later, handed her a bottle of water and sat down beside her.

“Do I owe you anything for this?” Emma asked, unscrewing the lid.

“Not at all. I think I can afford to buy a lovely lass a bottle of water.”

She refrained from rolling her eyes at his use of the adjective, still rueing the fact she met such a handsome man while looking like she just rolled out of bed. As she was getting ready to take a drink, Henry kicked the ball and sent it sailing over their head, causing Emma to duck and spill some of the water in her lap.

Henry ran over, stopping in front of her. “Oops. Sorry, Mom. I was trying to kick it at the teeter-totter.”

Emma brushed at the water droplets, looking around to locate the teeter-totter, which was at least twenty feet away from the bench. “Not even close, kid.”

Killian stood up. “Perhaps I could give you some pointers, lad. I was a rather good football player when I was younger .”

Henry’s forehead creased in confusion. “I play soccer, not football.”

Killian chuckled as Emma explained, “Killian grew up in England and over there, soccer is called football. They call what we play ‘American football’, don’t they, Killian?”

“Aye, lass. Sorry to confuse you, Henry.”

“Oh, I never knew that. So, how good were you?”

Killian rubbed a finger behind his ear, ducking his head a bit. “I played in a semi-professional league for a couple of years and actually tried out for a professional club, before I decided to go to Uni and become an architect instead.”

“Wow! Cool!” Henry exclaimed. “You probably know even more about soccer than my coach!”

Emma laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure he knows a bit more than a volunteer coach for a youth league team.” She took the dog’s leash back from Killian. “Norman and I will sit this lesson out.”

Killian attempted to wink at her. “As you wish, Milady. Come on, lad. We’ve got work to do.”

She smiled fondly, watching the two of them passing the ball back and forth for a while, before pulling out her phone to catch up on her social media apps.

When she looked up a few minutes later, she saw Killian giving Henry instructions for controlling the ball as he dribbled it down the field. Apparently, they were using two trees as the goal and Henry was moving toward them quickly, while trying rather unsuccessfully to keep the ball under control. When he kicked it from quite a distance away, the ball hit one of the trees and ricocheted away.

Killian went to retrieve the ball and took it back to where Henry was waiting. He squatted down in front of the boy and began talking to him, gesturing now and then to different parts of the field.

Henry listened intently, nodding once in a while. When Killian finished speaking, he stood up and did a short demonstration of how to move the ball back and forth from foot to foot. Then he patted the boy’s shoulder, walked the ball further away from the trees and set it down.

Henry lined himself up behind the ball and looked up at Killian. After getting a reassuring smile from him, Henry started dribbling the ball across the ground with shorter, more controlled kicks, while Killian jogged beside him, shouting encouragement. This time, he got the ball much closer to the trees, before giving it a powerful kick that sent it shooting right between them.

Killian whooped as Henry raised his arms in victory, giving a triumphant cheer. What Emma saw happen next put a lump in her throat. Henry flung his arms around Killian’s waist, hugging him tightly, and Killian returned the hug, rubbing his hand over her son’s head as he looked down at him with a proud smile on his face.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

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