#mr refreshing has arrived

[hinata-boke]

Drawing a randomly generated Haikyuu character (almost) every day until I give up

62. Sugawara Koushi

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #sugawara koushi #sugawara #my art #1hqaday #SUGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #mr refreshing has arrived

[giuliettagaltieri]

A Hundred Sleepless Nights

Pairing: Husband!Coriolanus Snow x Wife!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: The Beloved

Warning: perversion, explicit smut, unprotected sex, sexual euphoria

Word Count: 3985

5 of 7

Coriolanus thinks he might have made a mistake in choosing your honeymoon destination.

Mrs. Plinth apparently owns a private beach down in the south. She insisted that you spend your honeymoon there as it was more private.

Private.

A scowl made it to Coriolanus’ face the moment you arrived in the secluded beach town. He was still in his suit and you were still in your wedding dress.  Anybody with eyes can see that you were just married.  But the locals knew no shame.

The men, their skin bronze from being on the coast, fit from constantly moving, their faces sculpted manliness. And they seem to have taken a liking to you.

“May I help you with that, Miss?” A man asks you for the third time that night, referring to the handbag you carried. It has your personal effects, you would not trust anyone with it.

“That would not be necessary.” Coriolanus quips, his arm circling around your waist.  The man straightens up and looks Coriolanus up and down before he grins

“Her other baggage, then? You won’t be able to carry them all.”

Coriolanus scoffs and you politely smile at the man. You know Coriolanus is more than capable of lifting baggage but there is too much of it, it seems unreasonable to make your husband carry them all.

“Oh, we have more than enough help. Thank you.” You say sweetly and as if on cue, peacekeepers and porters appear to start putting your bags in the yacht.

The man frowns, his mind whirring before he comes to a realization.

“You’re those politicians who just got married.”

Coriolanus looks at him, his eyes now sharp.

“Does the Capitol news not reach this part of Panem?” He raises a brow.

The man chuckles as he rubs his stubble. “Nah, just don’t watch any of that bullshit.”

“You watch your words very carefully.” Coriolanus grins, the iciness in his tone not matching his charming face. “The Capitol is not very kind to those who call our affairs ‘bullshit’.”

You look at the man with much fascination. You have to commend how he stands his ground, now sizing Coriolanus up, but his lax posture was breaking apart on the surface. Ignorance really has a feeble power to it.

Despite the burliness of this person, you are not too worried about Coriolanus as he had his fair share of training. And the peacekeepers are just waiting for the man to cross that fine intangible line, their postures tight and ready to spring.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us. My wife and I have other places to be.”  Coriolanus leads you to the yacht where your luggage has been placed.

“The impudence of some people.”  Coriolanus spits.  “He does not even recognize the President.”

“I will talk to the mayor.” You attempt to soothe him but he clicks his tongue.

His jaw tightens before he takes a deep breath. “We agreed not to work while we are on our honeymoon.” He says but you can see how excruciating it was for him to say.

You grimace before breaking to a smile.

“If you say so, my love.”

You glance behind you and see the man still staring at you. You turn away when he sends you a boyish smile and a wink.

Coriolanus grunts when you cling to his arm tightly.

“Hurry, Corio.”

He straightens his back and slows his pace. “I see no purpose in rushing.” He’s not running away from anything.

It makes you roll your eyes but you match his pace anyways.  You enjoy the night stroll, the cool breeze refreshing your skin that is trapped in your wedding gown. You wanted to get out of it the moment the reception ended but Grandma’am almost dropped her turban when you mentioned a change of clothing.

Perhaps it was an old Panem tradition but she said only the groom must free you of your bridal gown.

Again with the superstitions but Coriolanus and you both decided you’d listen. A way to apologize after that stunt you pulled in the middle of the reception.  Coriolanus tightens his hold around your waist as you board the yacht.

“I’m hungry.” You tell him. 

He nods. “So am I.”

With the pressure of the ceremony and reception, you did not get to enjoy the food served despite them being of the finest qualities.

“I’d love to have that filet mignon again.”  You sigh as you sit on a sofa.  Coriolanus watches you with a smile.  Your face was full of disappointment and you looked adorable as your poofy gown swallowed you. “And posca.”

“Mhh, agreed.”  He sauntered over to the glass windows. Watching how the hydrofoil cuts the waters below.  The ruffling from your gown makes Corio turn to look at you once more.

You have occupied the entire sofa, now lying on your back as you stared into the tall ceiling. Your eyes have glazed over and he can see how your fingers picked at your gown.

“Tell me what you are thinking.”

Sighing, you close your eyes. He’s always so commanding.

“Nothing.”

He walks over to sit on the armrest. You look up to meet his glacial eyes with your own.

“There is definitely something in there, wife.”

Wife

You bite your bottom lip to contain your smile. Coriolanus raises a brow, his lips quirked up.

“Wife?”

You giggle as you reach up to pinch him but he easily swats your hand away.

“Are you regressing to your teenage self?” He pulls you up and slots himself under you so you are sitting on his lap.

“No.” You answer quickly. Too quickly.

You play with your ring as he watches you, still waiting for you to talk.

“I will hold you the entire night if you refuse to tell me.”

You shrug.  “I’m comfortable.”  His nimble fingers slip to your waist and your breath hitches.

“Yeah?”

You nod hastily.

“Tell me what is going on in that head of yours.”  He whispers against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver to crawl up your spine.

“Corio!”

“Yes?” He flashes you that charming smile again.

“Stop it.” You say, your cheeks are now bubbling.

He tilts his head to the side.  He is fooling nobody with this pretense.

You try to get off but he keeps you in place with a hand.  He is looking around the room now, acting nonchalant to your struggle.  He looks at you with his face passive and you eventually settle.

“Stop making me flustered.”  You raise a finger at him and he grins lazily at you.  The glint of those rather sharp looking canines had you retreating your finger back.

He sets a steady bounce of his leg, jostling you and you click your tongue at him.  “What are you doing?” You grab at his coat to steady yourself.

“Trying to calm your tantrum.”

“I am not a child.”  His sole returns to the carpeted floor and now just leans back on the sofa.  “I can see that.” You ignore how his eyes roam to your bosom.

“If you must really know, I was thinking of having a new signature.”

A perfect blonde brow was raised. “Signature.”

“I want to keep my maiden name in it but I also wanted to add yours.”

“Ours.”

“Ours.” You echo as you smile at him meekly.

“You are a Snow now.” He reminds you sternly and your cheeks warm up as you nod.

“I know that, Corio.”  You shift in his lap and he rubs your waist.

The air shifts, making it difficult for you to keep still. 

A knock pulls your attention to the door.

“Mister and Missus Snow, we have arrived.”

Coriolanus looks at you and raises both brows briefly as if making a point.

You roll your eyes and get off, he lets you this time.

The private beach.  Well, more like a private island.  It was like how every beach shown in brochures is.

The staff is already waiting by the docks, standing tall and in uniformed clothing.

“Don’t worry, Missus Snow.  The staff will be here only until seven in the evening.”  The head butler tells you as he escorts you and your husband off the yacht.

“The security?”  Coriolanus looks around the island, taking in every face that was present.

The butler nods, a proud smile on his lips.

“Stationed just in this dock and on the ocean.”

You would love to have privacy but not if it meant compromising you and your husband’s safety.

“Peacekeepers are also stationed on the coast.”  The head butler reassures you.  “This island is also being covered by the most recent security offered by District 3.  We have sonars covering the waters.  There is no need to be uneasy.”

It was these kinds of over the top operations that reminds you that it is the President you have married.  His security can easily topple the peace that President Ravinstill tried so hard to maintain.

“The staff will come to prepare your meals and leave after the dishes are cleaned up.  The day after tomorrow, the cleaning crew will take care of the linens and your laundry.”  The staff bows at you as you pass by them.  “Should you need something else.  We are a call away.  We are stationed in the ocean to respond right away to your every need.”

You share a look with Coriolanus.  It was a bit overkill, you both can agree.  But nothing less for the Presidential couple.

“Food is being prepared right at this moment.”  The head butler continues.

The villa is nice and airy.  Spacious and a perfect place to relax in.  And the smell of food, oh it is divine.

“The gods heard you.”  Coriolanus jests and you scan the table to see a glistening filet mignon.  Coriolanus pulls a chair for you and you thank him.  The head butler pours you a glass of posca and you smile gratefully.

Coriolanus and you eat your dinner quietly.  Giving compliments to the chefs who are standing in anticipation behind you.  You are generous in your praise, just to help in easing their anxiety.

You bid them goodbye as they all board a boat to take their leave.

When they are a considerable distance away, you and Coriolanus are able to drop the pretense. 

“Ugh.”  You groan as you grip your gown up to head inside the villa.  “I refuse to see anybody for twenty-four hours straight.”

Coriolanus follows after you, his hands clasped behind his back in a relaxed manner.  “Does that include me?”

You look at him briefly.  “What a stupid question.”  You link your arms to his and he glances at the clam expression on your face.

Now that he is standing so close, he notices just how much your childhood features remained in your face.  Your eyes and lips stayed the same.

“There was this one time I found you under the tables during a banquet held by our fathers.”  Coriolanus tells you and you don’t look up to him.  “I accidentally kicked you.”

You only hum to acknowledge him.

“I slipped under the tablecloth and joined you.”  He recalls.  “And you stole my first kiss.”

“Corio, stop talking.”  You groan.

“You told me you will be my wife.”

You purse your lips, not knowing how to respond.  

Sighing, you finally say,  “You were distraught.”  

“I was five.”

“In the Academy.  You hated me.”

“I envied you.”

Coriolanus opens the door and lets you pass first.  You continue to walk until you find the bedroom and he follows suit.

“Is that why you preferred Clemensia Dovecote’s company?”  You say sharply and Coriolanus looks at you as he leans on the vanity to undo his coat.

“She was pretty.  A nice accessory.”

You walk over to him, throwing your arms on his shoulders as you look deeply into his eyes.

“You think she’s pretty?”

He shakes his head.  “Not anymore.  She’s more of a snake than a dove now.”

“But you thought she was pretty.”

Coriolanus places a hand on your waist to steady you.

“That was because I did not want to admit my attraction to you.”

You pull away, doe eyes looking up at him meekly as your brows raise hopefully.  “You were attracted to me?”

“I am attracted to you.  How could I not be when everything about you tells the entire Capitol that you are mine?”

With utmost shyness, you focus your attention on his tie, not quite able to meet his eyes.  “You didn’t care.”

“The rosettes you used to wear in your hair were pretty.”  He smiles as he tucks your hair to the side.  “And so were the rosette patterns on the lace of your panties.”

Your movements have gone still.  Your eyes wide as you feel like a bucket of ice was dumped on your head.  Your eyes are frantic as you look up at him.  His face was passive, not betraying him.

“You think you were sneaky?”  He taunts as he starts to pull at your dress.  “You thought I would not know about your naughty little secrets?”

You gasp when he rips a stitch of your dress as he tugs it.

“Corio.”  You say breathlessly.  “How did you-”

“That initiation we had in our first year.”  He says gruffly as he pulls your gown once more until your breasts come spilling out.  “You were to exit the academy with just your skirts and blouse.”

Your face flushes.  “Y-you saw?”

“Everybody did.”  He tells you and you bury your face in his chest.  “It worked in my favor.  No boys came after you in the Academy.”

You cursed the wind that day.

Coriolanus pulls your gown and his fingers hook on the dainty fabric that cupped your innocence.

You place your hands on his shoulders as he tugs them down.  You cover your face as he gets the fabric off.

“Oh, will you look at that?”  He chuckles as he examines the lacy fabric.  “Still adorned with rosettes.”  He twists the fabric in his long fingers and you swallow as your throat has gone dried up at the sight.  You grab his arm when he brings it up his nose.  He looks at you sternly.  “Smells like roses too and feminine musk.”

You have had enough.  After securing your gown, you turn back to him and head to the closet, muttering angrily but he chases after you and pulls you to the lounge instead.

“You are a…a sick man!”  You say angrily as you pull away.

“If I am sick, then so are you for liking it.”  He laughs as he finishes his work with your gown until your torso is bare but he never quite got it off you just yet.  “Come here, my love.”  He sits on a plush chair and beckons you by patting his thighs.

You attempt to sit sideways but he clicks his tongue and with much reluctance, you straddle him instead.

He keeps his eyes on you as he holds your hips, his fingers digging in the large poof of your gown.

“You look so bridal.”  He says.  “I’d want nothing else but to ruin you while you still have the dress on.”  Coriolanus noses your cheek. 

“You’d let me, won’t you?”  He asks in a deeper voice, making you nod your head with your eyes closed and lip caught between your teeth.

He chuckles at your startled gasp as he prodded at your petals.  His fingers spread to your lips, creating a wet noise that had you wrapping your arms around his neck once more as you hid away.

“She’s wet.” 

You buck your hips against his when his thumb presses flat on your pearl.

“You like it?”  He smiles against your hair and you hum.  “Words, darling.”

“I do, Corio.”  You murmur against his chest.  “More please.” 

He swallows thickly as he lets a finger slip between your folds and he winces lightly when you bite his shoulder.  His finger was met with resistance but he pushed it further, willing you to relax.

“There you go.”  He says as you start to grind against his hand.  You throw your head back as your hands grip his shoulders.

“Mmh!”  You mewl, your eyebrows pinched as hot puffs of air escape your lips that have bloated after being nibbled.  “F-feels sooo good!”

Coriolanus watches your face as you move above him, his fingers dripping with your sweet honey.

The thickness of his fingers nudged at your quivering walls, it had soft sighs spilling from your lips.  He curls his fingers upward and you melt as it massages the sweet spot inside you.

You suddenly gasp, bowing your head as your hands grasp at his hair.  “C-Corio…I’m-…Oh!”

Your body seizes up as you pull him close, your walls pulsating around his fingers as you cum.  Your honey stains your thighs and he revels at the look on your face.

Coriolanus carries you to your bed as he dips his head to kiss you.  You are mewling his name through the kiss as his fingers keep massaging your walls.  He gently slips his fingers out of you, the sensation most frustrating.

He slips out of his coat and you admire him for a while before trying to tug your gown off but he glares at you and your hands retreat from doing it.  The gown is soon tugged from you and you find yourself covering your feminine parts as his eyes roam around your body. 

Warm rough hands cup under your knee to part your legs further.  You whine in embarrassment and you make an attempt to pull your knees together.  Still so shy from him seeing your body.

“Don’t.”  He warns and your bones turn weak, you feel shameful with how much your body responds to him.

“I’m sorry.”  You say meekly.

Both of you are thrumming in anticipation as he unbuckles his pants and you wait with bated breath as he frees himself.

Coriolanus grunts as he grips his cock, pumping until you feel a warm dribble land on your stomach.

You watch his face contort with concentration as he guides his leaking tip on your entrance and you bite back a moan as the tip catches, the head slotting itself between your petals.

“If you hold back on your sounds, I would get upset.”  He says pointedly and you nod at him, your hand running on his arm to soothe him and to get him to hurry.

Coriolanus hooks your legs over his arms, he holds your waist as he slips himself inside you.

Your pained gasp had him gritting his teeth. 

“Just a bit more, darling.”

But that was a lie.  He was barely in.

Your nails are biting at his arms, forming red angry crescent moons.

“Almost there.”  He groans and you let out a choked sob, feeling the burn from the tight stretch.

Coriolanus inhales sharply as your tightness keeps him from filling you.  He places your legs back on the mattress and he clicks his tongue at how your walls reject his size.  He glances at your face before he tongues his cheek.

“I’m sorry, my love.” 

You don’t get to ask why when he crawls on top of you, his corded arms slipping under you so he can grip your shoulders.  He pulls back slightly and your juices, now painted pink with the mixture of your broken innocence, slips to coat your inner thighs.

Coriolanus murmurs apologies on your hair and makes shallow thrusts, your hands gripping his nape with the conflict of pleasure and pain, making you wetter and wetter.  And in one full thrust, he sheaths himself.

Your eyes shot open as you clawed on his back, feeling yourself tipping before you came crashing down.  Your flower clenches as it pulses around him, your slick overflowing with his tip kissing your cervix.

You are making noises that Coriolanus never thought you were capable of.  Your words were more of like babbles as wet sobs spilled from your lips.

The sight of you, so debauched, makes Coriolanus laugh.  “You come from just being stuffed full?”

Your glare up at him but your tongue is still unable to form words as pleasure makes tears leak from your eyes.

“Yeah, feels good, doesn’t it?”  He chuckles while he rocks his hips against yours.

He watches with amusement at how you throw your head back when he pounds on you.  He can see your pulse jumping and he wonders if he knows how vulnerable you are right now.  He grazes his teeth on the thinness of your skin and to his surprise, you mewl wantonly, only tightening around him.

“Naughty girl.”  He chuckles but you look at him, offended.

“I’m not.”

He kisses your pouting lips.  “Hm?”

You shake your head.  “I’m not.”

“You’re not naughty?”  He snickers and you nod.  You are acting no different to a drunk.  “That’s right.  You’ve been a good girl, haven’t you?”

Coriolanus wonders if the look you are giving him are what they say heart eyes are.  

He realized that he feels most powerful when he is on top of you and making you feel good. 

Your feet absentmindedly slide to caress his leg and he smiles at your adorable display of affection.

Nobody would believe the sight of you right now.

So docile, so submissive.

The damp fabric under you was uncomfortable and it was too warm, but such tiny discomforts flew over your head when Coriolanus was making you feel too good.

Your big teary eyes look at him as your brows curl in pleasure, you were too adorable he had to kiss you.

You break the kiss with a whine, your heels digging on the mattress as your back arches off the bed.

Coriolanus understood and fucked into you rougher, trying to keep a steady pace but it was getting harder and harder for him to do when your soft wet walls rub against his sensitive cock.

“Corio, Corio please!”  You beg him as your hands cupped his face in desperation.

He seethes through gritted teeth, his hands leaving a red print on your shoulders as he crushed you with his weight.  You were sobbing, just needing him all to yourself.

And you cum once more.  You are lost as every coil in your body snaps.  You are unraveling beneath him and Coriolanus grunts, chasing his own high and he slots the tip of his manhood deep inside you and spills his seed.

You wince at the warm spurts of his spend and you pull him to share another kiss.

Coriolanus breathed heavily against your lips.  He felt invincible yet ready to go down on his knees for you.  No wonder why so many empires collapsed for women.  He would gladly die if you asked him to at this moment.

Your sob pulls him from his thoughts and looks at you with concern.

Coriolanus tucks your damp hair to the side as he kisses your cheek.  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?  Did I go too rough?”

You shake your head as you pull him closer, your legs crossing over his posterior, burying him deeper inside you, making him groan, the tendons on his arms popping in an attempt to control himself.

“I love you.  I love you, Corio.  It felt so good.”

He chuckles at your words and he nods, dipping low to kiss your lips once more.  “I love you too.”  He looks deep into your eyes and starts moving his hips once more, determined to make love to you again.

You give him a tired smile but you encourage him by tracing his nape sensually with your manicured nails.

You share a look of pure fondness, so in love and lost in pleasure.

It was then you realized that you need nothing else but each other and you would do everything to protect this love you found.

Quest for Happiness

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x reader #tbosas #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #husband coriolanus #coriolanus smut #hunt for glory #quest for happiness

[nebulaafterdark]

Exile (Part 4)

Summary: Y/N Undersee thought the games were over after becoming a victor. Unfortunately, life outside the arena has become just as dangerous. Prequel to Moves & Countermoves

Trigger warning: forced prostitution, explicit sexual content, alcohol/drug use and other mentions of trauma. 18+ ONLY

Part 3

The reaping for the 64th hunger games, brings forth their tributes, Denali and Maximus. The girl, is sixteen and her little brother, only fourteen. Orphans, surviving solely off of tesserae and profits made from pedaling contraband at the hob.

When Y/N comes to greet them on the train, Denali has her brother tucked behind her protectively, near the table of food. “Hello.”

Denali watches her with wary eyes.

“You should eat.” Y/N tells her. “Both of you. Get your strength up for the arena.”

Maximus reaches out for a dinner roll, but his sister slaps it from his hand.

“You first.” Denali demands. She needs to be sure it’s not poisoned.

Y/N closes the space between them, taking the abandoned bread and tearing off a piece. Placing it into her mouth, she chews and swallows.

Maximus presses his lips together, gulping hard. He can almost taste it.

“My name is Y/N. I’ll be your mentor-”

“Where’s the other one? The man?”

“Haymitch is down in the bar car.” Y/N tells them.

“He’s been doing it longer, we want him.” Denali says.

“Fine.” Y/N crosses both arms over her chest, toying with the bracelet on her left wrist. “But the two of you stay here, and eat. Please eat.”

The girl narrows her gray, seam, eyes, watching the woman leave. She’s seen her before, sneaking around where she didn’t belong. The man, Haymitch, was from the seam, before he won the games. He still comes down to the hob, Denali’s sold to him a couple times. Most recently, a bracelet, woven from stitching scraps. For his wife, he’d told her…and the woman, Y/N, is wearing it.

The victors return after a long moment, their hands intertwined. Y/N appears to be leading Haymitch toward them, against his will.

Maximus and his sister stare at him, expectantly.

Haymitch smiles, “I heard you wanted to see me.”

“Y-yes. You’re our mentor and we need strategy and-”

“Woah,” Haymitch stops the girl’s train of thought, “you’re barking up the wrong tree, sweetheart.”

“What?”

“That’s her department,” Haymitch jerks his chin toward his wife.

“Then what do you do?” Denali asks.

“Enjoy the refreshments,” Haymitch lifts his glass.

————————————————————————

Upon arriving in the Capitol, Y/N and Haymitch are collected to film interviews. Caesar always finds a way to make the most of their time here. But over the years, it has proven useful in gaining sponsors for their tributes.

“We’re happy.” Haymitch reminds Y/N. “We’re in love and so glad to be here.”

Y/N nods, blinking up at him through obscenely long lashes. Vanity has done a number on her this time. Y/N is her muse, the one who inspired her to leave her position as stylist for the games and design pieces for her victor full time.

The people of the Capitol cannot get enough. Anything Y/N wears, they want to wear. Tonight is a cotton candy pink dress.

“For the first time, on this very stage, we will be joined by Mr. and Mrs. Abernathy.” Caesar announces, riling the crowd into a frenzy.

Last time they were here was their wedding day and Snow obviously had better things for them to do afterwards than gossip with Caesar Flickerman.

“Please give our newly weds a warm welcome, Y/N and Haymitch.” Caesar motions toward them from the stage, their queue to join him.

Haymitch reaches back for her hand, waving out at the crowd as they cross the floor.

Y/N greets Caesar first. He likes her better than Haymitch anyway, most people do.

————————————————————————

“Where’ve you been?” Maximus asks his mentors, after the tribute parade.

“Clearly they have more important things to do than help us.” Denali turns up her nose in their direction.

The tributes are dressed as coal miners…again.

“Do you have any idea how much a bottle of water goes for in the arena? A loaf of bread? Medicine?” Haymitch cuts in. “Those things don’t come cheap, sweetheart.”

“So what?” Denali doesn’t understand how their absence would change that.

“There’s people here with a lot of money.” Y/N explains. “The more time we spend with them, the more money they’re willing to provide our tributes. I’m sorry that we had to step away, but that’s why I supplied you with the tablets. Did you have a chance to look over the strategy files?”

Denali shakes her head of dark curls.

“That’s ok, we still have time.” Y/N assures her, “let’s go up to our floor. We can discuss it over dinner.”

————————————————————————-

The district twelve escort, a woman named Cordelia Walters, who desperately hopes to be reassigned to another district; holds the elevator for them. “Chop, chop.” She claps her hands together. Like herding animals in a zoo.

“Always a delight.” Haymitch snarks, as they step into the confined space.

Y/N huffs a laugh, pressing her lips together. Their escorts seem to have a high turnover rate. She hopes that holds true.

Dinner is tense, Cordelia can’t be bothered with listening to defense strategy details. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Oh, sure!” Y/N pipes up, “let’s discuss the up in coming fashion for the spring. I have all of Vanity’s sketches.”

“Really?” The woman squeals, “you don’t think she’ll mind?”

“Not at all.” Y/N lies, “here, take it. You can bring it back in the morning.”

“Thank you.” The Capitol woman races away, closing the door to her suite behind her.

“That’s one way to do it.” Haymitch lifts a shoulder, poking at the peas on his plate.

“Now we can talk?” Maximus asks, shoveling another spoonful into his mouth.

“Yeah,” Y/N smiles. “You can start by telling me what you’re good at.”

“I’m a fast runner.” The boy tells her.

“Had to be, we’ve been running all our lives.” Denali adds, still unsure if Y/N can be trusted.

“And what about you,” Y/N asks, “what are you good at?”

“I’m strong and good with a knife.” The girl tells her. “We just need you to give us a chance.”

Y/N leans in, across the table, “we can train you, separate from the other tributes. We can supply you with anything you might need from a sponsor. We can prepare you for your interviews. No one is rooting for you more than we are.”

The four of them talk late into the night, answering questions. Exchanging stories and discussing useful weapon tactics.

Haymitch’s number one rule is not to get attached. However his wife, either cannot or will not follow it.

When they finally retire to their room, Y/N makes a mad dash for the white pills, on the bedside table. The contents rattle in her shaking hand.

“Here, angel.” Haymitch takes it from her, “that won’t help.”

“But you said-” White is for pain.

He reaches for another bottle. “Take this.” He deposits a yellow pill into her hand. Then a blue. For her nerves and to help her sleep.

Y/N swallows them down, attempting to catch her breath.

“Come here.” Haymitch wraps her up in his arms. Placing a hand over her heart and rubbing gently, “that’s where it hurts, huh?”

She nods, praying that the pills take effect soon.

“The white ones can’t help with that.” He continues, attempting to soothe the ache.

“How do you do this?” Y/N leans into him. “It’s only been four years and I feel like-”

“Before you, those ten years after I won….I drank until I blacked out and I can still see their faces. I remember their names. I see their families, back home and it never gets easier. It never gets better. But you find ways to live with it.”

Y/N lets out a sob, “I can’t. I can’t.”

“I’ll help you.” I’ll do whatever it takes.

“I want to go home.”

“I know,” Haymitch breathes. “But the pills are gonna kick in soon. Then you’ll feel better.”

“I don’t want to feel better. I want to save those kids!”

“We can try.” Haymitch says, somberly.

“If I overdose, what happens to my family?” Y/N wonders, eyelids growing heavy as Haymitch shuffles her toward the bed.

“Snow wanted to have them executed after your games. As punishment for you not killing Tyson. He was only willing to negotiate a deal, in exchange for my…work. If you kill yourself, I have nothing else to offer him. No leverage. He’ll kill them and sell me; again.” Haymitch explains, pulling off her shoes. “But I wouldn’t blame you.”

Y/N sucks in a breath. She has something to live for. Her sister, her parents and him. She has Haymitch to live for. Therefore she cannot die. “It was only a hypothetical question, I wasn’t- I wouldn’t-” leave you.

Haymitch pats her cheek, the drugs have kicked in and her tears have subsided. “Goodnight, angel.”

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @ancientbeing10 @1-800-styles @l3xi3luv @lam-ila @druby2011-blog @liballer @readinginthe-am @rae-11 @champomiel @mariechristine00

#haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy smut #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch x y/n #moves & countermoves #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch smut #haymitch x reader #hunger games fanfiction #hunger games #the hunger games #exile

[joelmillerisapunk]

Beach Daddy II. Jet skis and the ocean breeze

Rich daddy!Joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist • Masterlist

Wordcount: 8,173

Summary: You and Joel have some alone time.

Warnings: 18+, some cute reader and Joel moments, mentions of cheating and parental loss, falling into the water and struggling.

Notes: Welcome back babes 😘 hope you enjoy. Comments and any feedback are always so welcome. Thanks for reading ily.

You wake up the next morning, feeling refreshed and excited about your first day on the ocean. Sometime during the early morning hours, someone slipped an itinerary under your door. As you read it, you can't help the pang of dread you feel when you see that Sarah has planned the whole day out for you, and you will be spending all day with Todd.

At least you have a few hours before you are expected at the poolside brunch starting at 10:00. So you call down for coffee to be sent to your room, and as you wait, you go to the sliding door to the balcony and open it to let the sound of the waves take over your room.

You get dressed in a pair of shorts and your favorite top. Before you have time to finish your makeup, there is a knock at your door announcing your coffee has arrived.

"Good morning, Miss," says the pool boy Sarah had snapped at the day before. He’s carrying a coffee tray holding a glass coffee decanter, cream and sugar, and a plate full of fruit. You love that each time you've called down for something simple, the staff adds something extra.

"Good morning; I don't think I caught your name yesterday," you say.

"It's Derek, Miss. Where would you like me to put this?"

"If you could put it on the balcony for me, I would really appreciate it. It looks amazing."

"Of course," Derek says as he makes his way onto the balcony. You don't think you will ever get used to this level of service.

"Thank you so much, Derek," you say, and he responds with a smile. You don't think the staff is used to Sarah's guests calling them by name.

You quickly finish getting ready for the day and make your way to the small breakfast table before your coffee gets too cold. In the light of the morning, you can see the ocean rather than just hear it like the night before. You watch the water closely as you take your time, sipping your coffee and enjoying the sweetest fruits you have ever tasted. You hope, at some point on the trip, you will be able to catch a glimpse of a dolphin. You've always thought they were beautiful creatures.

Five minutes before 10:00, you accept your fate, slip on your sandals, and make your way out to the pool deck. Smaller tables are set up around the pool, each only allowing two to four occupants. You sit at an empty table, happy that you don't have to make small talk.

You place your order with a waiter and sit in silence, watching the rest of the group. Many of them are clearly very hung over from the night before.

The blond, Hudson, has his head resting on the table, not responding to Megan, who is talking to him nonstop. A girl with short black hair sits next to them, carefully working on an omelet, shooting dirty looks at Megan, who must have been talking too loudly.

The group must have stayed at the dinner party drinking until the early hours of the morning. You're happy you were able to slip away. Even though you had that awkward run-in with Mr. Miller, your night ended up a lot better once you were alone in your room.

As soon as your mango mimosa is set on the table, the chair next to you is pulled out. You look up and are surprised to see Todd sitting next to you.

"So, Sarah tells me that you two lived together at NYU. What did you study there?" Todd says, continuing his game.

You look around for Sarah and shoot a glare at Todd when you notice she isn't on the deck yet. "You know exactly what I studied, Todd."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he says with a wicked glint in his eyes. Why had you never seen past his fake smile before now?

Todd leans over and whispers, "You look good, babe. That’s always been your color.”

You could have slapped him, and you might have if Sarah hadn't walked up right at that moment and sat on the other side of Todd. She looks flawless, like always, in a perfectly fitted sundress.

"Hey! You really missed out on a great party last night. Adrian nearly fell into the pool in her dress," Sarah says.

"Wow, it really does sound like I missed out. I had a headache, so I snuck out early, but I won't miss a thing today," you say and take a big sip of your drink.

"Daddy, come sit with us!" Sarah squeals. You nearly choke on your drink, but luckily, you have time to compose yourself as Mr. Miller makes his way to your table.

"This is my old roommate from NYU. Unfortunately, you didn't get to meet her last night."

"Nice to meet you, darlin’," Mr. Miller says with a smirk sneaking onto his lips. He raises one eyebrow playfully. "I hope everything and everyone on the ship has been to your liking."

"Everything has been wonderful, thank you," you say. You wish you could hide under the table instead.

"Mr. Miller, what do you think of the new design of aircraft that AmeriAir just revealed?" Todd says, breaking Mr. Miller's eye contact with you. You look over at Todd and realize that he has witnessed the strange moment between you and Sarah's dad.

"It seems like it will be a great little plane. I'm interested to see how it does in this market," Mr. Miller says, and the conversation steers towards his new airline.

Of course, you know that he's wealthy, but as breakfast continues, you quickly realize that his kind of wealth is more than you can even imagine. You try not to look impressed as he talks because you keep catching the look Todd is giving you out of the corner of your eye. Even in front of Sarah, he can't control himself.

It's hard not to be impressed by Sarah's father. Not only is he wealthy, but he is extremely attractive. You could have watched the way his lips moved all morning. Sarah would catch you making googly eyes at her father if you didn't get yourself out of there. You scan the deck for an escape route when you notice Reggie sitting alone at one of the tables.

You slide your chair back and stand as casually as you can manage while saying excuse me to the table. You quickly take a seat next to him, and he looks up from his breakfast.

"Hey, Reggie. Can I ask you for a huge favor?"

"Of course. What do you need?" he asks.

"Is there somewhere quiet the rest of the guests don't know about?"

"I know the perfect place," Reggie smiles and quickly gives you directions. You stand, ready to go to this secret spot before anyone notices you are gone.

"Where are you going?"

You turn to find Sarah walking over to you. "We're all heading to the sauna."

“That sounds great, Sarah. I’ll head back to my room and change.” This is the perfect opportunity to slip away from the group for a while.

Sarah smiles. "I'm headed that way, too. When you're done, the Sauna is on B deck towards the front of the ship."

—

You enter your room and change into a swimsuit. You throw your shorts back on overtop and grab a book from your luggage. You quickly make your way out of your room, ensuring you don't run into Sarah.

You carefully avoid the sauna and head to the very back of the ship, just as Reggie suggested. You enter the dining room and step out onto the balcony. The balcony leads to a secluded deck with two lounge chairs. On the table between the two chairs is a pitcher full of lemonade and a couple of glasses.

Reggie must have arranged for this to be brought here for you.

You make yourself comfortable and try to read the book you've brought with you, but the sound of the waves at the back of the boat is so loud. You have a hard time keeping your eyes open, so you set the book down on your chest and let the sun warm your face.

Just as you're about to drift off to sleep, a shadow blocks the sun from your face.

"Seems like you found my hiding place. You must've had the same idea," a deep voice says, and you open your eyes.

"Mr. Miller!" You sit up, fully awake.

He sits down on the lounge chair next to you, leans back, and places his hands behind his head.

"Call me Joel.”

—

As Joel rounds the corner, he's surprised to see your hair flowing off the back of the lounge chair. You look so relaxed that he feels guilty invading your solace, but he can't leave now. If you notice him leaving, he'd make an even bigger fool of himself than he'd done the night before.

"Mr. Miller, I don't know if -" You start.

"Please, I insist," Joel says before you can finish.

"Alright," you answer with a small smile. "I am so sorry if I took your hiding spot. I needed some time to myself, so your intern, Reggie, told me how to get here."

"You can stay as long as you'd like, darlin. Do you mind if I hide out here with you, though?" Joel asks.

You laugh lightly, "It is your boat - Joel."

"True, but finders keepers, right," Joel says, looking over at you and winking. Then, you laugh a real laugh, making him want to say anything to hear you laugh again.

"It would be nice to have some company. Reggie sent out some lemonade. Would you like some?" You ask as you sit up and start filling the two glasses.

Reggie told Joel about his run-in with you the night before and how he'd tried to smooth over his terrible blunder. He made sure he helped you back to your room, and now he was helping you find all the best spots on the ship. He was really going out of his way for you. Joel couldn't help wondering if the boy had a crush on you.

You hand Joel a glass, and he has to stop himself from staring at you in your swimsuit. Reggie would be crazy if he didn't have a bit of a crush on you.

"So you and Sarah met at NYU?" Joel asks.

"Yeah, we were roommates during our undergrad. After that, I stayed to get my master's degree in political science. I just graduated, so this trip came at the perfect time."

"Wow, congratulations. Do you know what you’re gonna do with your degree yet?" Joel is impressed. He had begged Sarah to continue school, even bribing her with a new convertible, but she flat out refused.

"I was actually accepted into Harvard Law. I’ll be starting this upcoming fall semester," you answer rather sheepishly.

You are unlike Sarah's other friends, most of whom live off of trust funds.

"That's real impressive, darlin. My father pushed me to get my degrees in finance, but had I chosen for myself, I like to think I would’ve gone to law school," Joel says. "I don't know if I woulda been able to do it, though. It takes a lot of effort and determination to become a lawyer."

You sigh a little, "I do spend most of my time studying, but one day, it will be worth it."

"I couldn't agree more. That just means you'll have to take every second you can before your next semester to relax, " Joel says.

"That's the idea. It's really why I said yes to Sarah's invitation. I just hope I can find time to relax between everything she has scheduled. I can't really keep up with the partying her friends are used to."

"Now that you mention it, how is it that you and Sarah became friends? You two don't seem to have very similar interests," Joel says.

You laugh again, and Joel can't help but smile.

"Sarah and I did spend our free time very differently, but she knew how to get me to get out and have fun. So I guess she really helped me find a balance between school and having a life."

It's nice to hear someone talk so positively about Sarah. Joel hopes that during this trip, if his daughter spends more time with you, he will get to see more of that side of her. The kind side that Sarah often hides in favor of popularity.

"Well, I'm real glad Sarah invited you to join us."

You quickly return to your glass of lemonade, feeling almost embarrassed, and you sit in companionable silence for a few minutes.

"So, what do you think of Todd?" Joel asks. "It's unlike Sarah to bring a guy to meet me, so this relationship must be important to her."

You're taking a long time to respond, so Joel figures you haven't heard him. He turns to look at you, but you're looking down, purposely not meeting his eyes. "Are you okay?"

You ignore his second question and say, "Um, he seems to make Sarah very happy." You still refuse to meet his gaze as you get to your feet and grab your book off of the table.

Joel is confused by the sudden shift in the conversation, and he hopes he hasn't made another blunder.

"I think I'm going to go back to my room and lay down before the party. Thank you again for sharing your hideout with me," you say.

"Of course. Please, use it any time you want."

Finally, you look at him and, with a weak smile, say, "I will. I enjoyed talking with you, Joel."

"I enjoyed talkin’ with you too. I’ll see you later darlin," Joel says.

You nod and walk away, clutching your book to your chest.

Joel can't help but to watch you as you walk away. There’s something different about you that is intriguing.

He’s not used to women who are beautiful, reserved, and kind. Usually, when a woman he’s talking with finds out how much money he has, it's all he can do to escape from them. Not being able to find someone genuine is the main reason he never dated anyone long-term. There is nothing he hates more than someone trying to get to know him for access to his wealth. Sarah’s mother was the first and only woman to fool Joel into thinking she was someone she wasn't because she wanted him for his money.

Joel closes his eyes and leans back in the lounge chair. He’s positive that the conversation he had with you was genuine. He gets the feeling that there is nothing about you that isn't one hundred percent genuine.

Lost in thought, Joel doesn't hear the footsteps behind him.

"Oh, hello, sir."

Joel turns to see Reggie standing behind the two lounge chairs, looking confused.

"Reggie, I need to thank you for looking after Sarah's guests. You really have gone above and beyond what is expected. You’re doing a remarkable job."

"No problem, sir," he says with a sheepish grin.

"That reminds me to show you those sales reports from last quarter. If you could email Pam, she will get those sent over. Oh, sorry, is there somethin’ you need from me?" Joel asks.

"No, sir, I was just looking for - never mind. I will go get those reports ready. Please excuse me." Reggie says and turns to go.

Joel is confused by the interaction until he looks down at the pitcher of lemonade and the two glasses. You did say that Reggie sent up the lemonade for you, but he sent you two glasses. Joel realizes he had probably intruded on a moment Reggie set up. The thought that Reggie wants your attention shouldn't bother Joel, but it does. It bothers Joel more than he cares to admit.

He remains on the lounge chair, replaying his conversation with you over again in his head.

Finally, after an hour, he decides its probably time he rejoins the guests. Sarah is planning a cocktail party for that evening, and Joel needs to check with the staff that everything is running smoothly. Sarah had ordered an ice sculpture to be made in her image, and she told Joel she would 'die of embarrassment' if it didn't turn out. Joel plans to go check it before she can. That way, if there is a problem, Joel will be the one to deal with it, and Sarah won't get a chance to terrorize his staff.

As Joel exits the dining room on his way to the kitchen, he hears his name being called from the other end of the hall.

"Mr. Miller! I've been looking for you," Todd says.

Joel turns towards him, wondering what you aren't telling him about Todd.

"I was hoping I could have a word with you, sir. Alone.”

—

You wake up on the fourth day of the trip to a fantastic view. Wrapping a robe around yourself, you make your way to the balcony. The yacht is no longer moving; it must have come into port sometime during the night. You're docked at a tropical island with white sand beaches lined with palm trees.

A squeal of excitement threatens to escape you. Sarah told you yesterday that you'd be going on a private luxury catamaran dolphin tour. You've always wanted to see a dolphin in the wild. Even being stuck on a smaller boat with Todd all day seems worth it.

You've become quite creative in finding ways to avoid Todd each day. You still attend every planned activity but manage to sneak away and spend some time relaxing. On a few occasions, Reggie saves you from talking to the other members of the group.

You've had a few decent conversations with Alison, the woman in your group with short black hair. You like her far better than Megan, who's caught up in impressing Hudson. Megan is one of those people who puts others down to get a laugh. Unfortunately, you've been the subject of too many of her jokes for you to want to get to know her any better.

But no conversation could match up to the one you had with Sarah's father, Joel. It was also the only conversation you kept thinking about; you have to be careful whenever he's around not to stare too much. Joel, like you, usually joins the group for a while but slips away as soon as he knows he won't be missed.

Quickly getting dressed in shorts and T-shirt over the top of your bikini, you head to the dining room for breakfast before you board the catamaran.

You're the first one there, as you should have remembered that to Sarah and her friends, on time is actually early.

You sit next to one of the windows overlooking the island and place your breakfast order. Each meal is prepared by a private chef who makes the best food you've ever tasted.

The waiter brings over your latte while you wait for your lobster frittata.

You sip at your drink and watch the tropical birds flying over the ocean. Joel fills the chair across from you, breaking your trance. You look over and smile at him.

"Mornin, darlin," Joel says, returning your smile. Your stomach does a small flip as his eyes meet yours.

"Good morning," you say, glad that you picked one of the smaller tables that only has room for two.

"This has got to be my favorite place to stop. It's a quiet little island between Florida and the Bahamas. The locals are amazing, and the restaurants are to die for."

"It is absolutely beautiful," you say wistfully.

"So, what does Sarah have planned for you today?" Joel asks.

"She has a private catamaran dolphin tour planned," you say, and your tone conveys how badly you're looking forward to it.

"Oh, that will be an enjoyable day. You seem excited about the dolphins."

"I have loved dolphins ever since I was little. My parents even bought me a little stuffed animal dolphin that I carried everywhere with me. I named it Dolly," you say and then quickly stop talking.

The memory of the loss of your parents still stings, and you do your best not to talk about it.

"Have you ever gotten to see one in real life?" Joel asks you with a slightly amused look on his face, probably imagining you with the little dolphin doll.

"No. There is a pod that lives year-round off the coast of Maine where my grandpa lives, but he doesn't get out much. So I never got the chance." You're not quite as happy now as you were before as thoughts of how much you miss your family fill your mind.

Joel remains quiet. You hope he won't ask why your parents never took you. You don't want to explain about them passing away. However, you're saved when your food arrives, which gives you time to change the subject before he can ask. "You'll have to help me spot the dolphins while we are on the catamaran today," you say, hoping to sound innocent.

Joel's face falls, "I'm afraid I have some business that I really have to attend to. I won't be able to make it."

"Oh," you say, trying not to sound disappointed. You had been hoping to spend some more time with him. He's one of the only people here you like to talk to.

"I'd love to hear about your first dolphin sighting when you get back, though," he says, running a hand through his hair.

"I'll make sure I get some good pictures," you respond with a small smile. You would love the opportunity to speak to him again, and that would be the perfect excuse.

Your conversation continues as more members of the group finally turn up. When you finish your meal, Joel excuses himself and heads to his private office on the yacht.

You're sad to see him go but fight the urge to watch him walk away. Instead, you focus your eyes on the ocean, imagining what it would be like to see a dolphin leap out of the water.

Sarah is the last to arrive at breakfast, wearing another glamorous bikini with a matching sheer coverup.

She spends a few minutes sitting near Megan chatting away while she eats. Then, she says the words you've been waiting for. "The catamaran is waiting!" Sarah squeals, lifting her mimosa into the air.

With a smile, you hop up, finally eager to take part in one of the activities.

—

A man dressed in a light blue polo hands you a glass of champagne as you board the catamaran. As the captain sets sail, you quickly find a spot next to the railing.

Sarah and Todd immediately find the net forming a hammock between the two hulls and claim it for themselves. You drain your glass of champagne and turn your eyes to the ocean, constantly scanning for any movement.

The party continues on around you, and Sarah and Todd are getting more and more handsy as the cruise continues. The crew members have turned on music, and the group is dancing, drinking, and enjoying themselves.

You keep your focus on the water and try your best to ignore your ex with his tongue down your friend's throat. You grab another glass of champagne as one of the servers walks by and sample some of the hors d'oeuvres until you accidentally eat a dip that turns out to be caviar. You're not a fan.

After a while, you notice that you've turned around and are on a reef not far from the yacht. Your heart sinks as the captain stops the boat. Hudson and Todd jump into the water and try to get the girls to jump in.

"Excuse me," you say to get the attention of the man in the blue polo.

"Yes, miss? Can I get you another glass of champagne?" he answers.

"No, I'm fine, thank you. I was just wondering if you could let me know when we will start looking for the dolphin pod again?" You ask.

"I'm sorry, but Miss Miller is getting bored of looking for the dolphins and has ordered the captain to stop so everyone can do some snorkeling and swimming. We can't resume our tour until Miss Miller gives us the go-ahead. This area is great for snorkeling, though; you can see a lot of wildlife swimming in the coral," he says with a sympathetic smile.

"I see. Thank you," you say, turning away from the man, trying to keep the tears of disappointment from welling up in your eyes.

You had been so close, and the thought of leaving without seeing a single dolphin is heartbreaking.

You hear screams of excitement behind you, and you head to the swim deck and dangle your feet in the water. Todd has convinced Sarah to jump in the water, and he is now kissing her while they are both treading water. He'd never been that romantic when he was dating you; you guess he was too busy cheating on you to show you that kind of attention.

You know you probably should have given up on your hope of seeing a dolphin, but you continue to scan the surrounding water. You notice a jet ski in the distance, and it comes closer and closer to the catamaran. As the rider gets closer, you realize it’s Joel. He pulls his jet ski next to you.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, we couldn't find the dolphins, though," you try but fail to keep the disappointment out of your voice.

"Really?" Joel says, watching you closely.

"No, everyone was getting bored of looking, so Sarah had the captain stop so we could snorkel over the reef," you say while you watch your feet kick back and forth in the water. You look over at the group, all swimming on the reef, and notice Todd watching your interaction closely.

"I bet we could find them. There's a cove not far from here that I know the dolphins have been spotted in before. We could ride over there together."

You look up at him with a bit of hope in your eyes. "Are you sure?" you ask, shocked at his offer.

"Darlin, I don't want you to miss out on seeing the dolphins. Come with me," Joel says, holding out his hand to you.

So, you reach out and grab his hand with a smile on your face. He helps you off of the swim deck and onto the back of the jet ski.

"Let's go find those dolphins," he says.

You take off, and you have to grab around Joel's waist to stay on the jet ski. You nearly jump when his skin meets yours. It's only then that you realize Joel is shirtless. You instinctively want to slide closer to him, to press your body against his muscular back. You constantly have to work to fight that urge. He’s your friend's dad, you scream at yourself internally. You switch your attention back to the water. The water is crystal clear and calm. Looking off the side of the jet ski, you can see to the bottom in some places. You pass over colorful sea life that is so captivating that it almost takes your mind off of Joel's muscular back.

Almost.

"There's a cove just up here where the dolphins are known to spend time. A boat would have a hard time getting back there, especially one the size of the catamaran, but this jet ski will be a perfect fit," Joel yells over the sound of the running jet ski.

"I can't thank you enough for trying to help me. It really means a lot."

You continue at a fast pace in the direction of the cove until you get close enough that you can see the narrow inlet. Joel slows the jet ski, and you coast into the cove. The circular cove is surrounded on all sides by beaches that ease into cliff faces. The cove is completely cut off from everything; you understand why the dolphins would find this place appealing. Joel cuts the engine, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore takes over.

"I have never seen anything like this," you say, staring around. "The water is so - blue."

"I stumbled upon it when I was a teenager. My dad was teaching me how to sail. He thought the best way for me to learn was to figure it out by myself." Joel chuckles under his breath. "He sent me out on a small sailboat all alone, and I got caught in a current and pushed in here," Joel says, a bit more seriously.

"That must have been terrifying," you say.

"It was. I sat on the boat for a long time, using every curse word I knew, and aimed them all at my father. After that, my anger started to turn to panic; I had no idea how I was going to get back or if anyone would be able to find me in this cove. Then I noticed the water rippling next to me," he says. "It was a big group of dolphins, and I watched them play and forgot about my problems. After they swam away, I was calm enough to figure out how to get myself back to the dock," Joel says, staring into the water.

"That’s an amazing story," you say, watching the creases on his brow relax. It seems as though the memory is very bitter sweet for him.

"It was a big turning point for me. I watched my parents be unhappy with each other for years, and their unhappiness trickled down to how they treated me," he says with a sigh. "The dolphins seemed so happy and were so in tune with each other. I swore to myself I would have a different kind of marriage and family life than my parents did."

You sit quietly for a long time, the sound of the soft waves lapping against the side of the jet ski. You find yourself still pressed against him, though you let your arms drop. You catch yourself constantly looking at him. It's undeniable at this point, you want Joel. You can't help but wonder if that is why he isn't with Sarah's mom, but you don't dare ask.

"My parents tried to take me to see dolphins in the wild. They planned an amazing trip for my sixteenth birthday. They were going to take me to San Diego, and we were going to stay in this cute little beach house."

"But you didn't get to go?" Joel asks.

"They were going to surprise me with it, but they never got the chance. They got in a head-on collision with a drunk driver on their way home from picking up takeout. I found the tickets and travel plans in an envelope in my mom's nightstand," you say. You feel comfortable sharing part of your past after Joel was so open with you. A very small number of people knew about your parents passing, but you feel safe with him.

"Baby girl I'm so sorry," Joel says and then pauses, clearly not knowing what to say.

"Thank you. It was a few years ago, but I still miss them every day," you say. The silence returns as you continue to scan the water. "Joel, look!" You nearly throw yourself backward off of the jet ski because you see a ripple of green-grey under the water.

"It looks like you are going to get your wish, darlin," he says with a huge smile on his face. It seems as though he is enjoying your excitement more than watching the dolphins.

A large pod has entered the cove and is swimming all around the jet ski. The water is so clear that you can see each dolphin individually. Some are playing a game of chase with each other. There are mamas with their babies swimming close to them. Others are even brave enough to come close to the jet ski, investigating what you are.

"They are common bottlenose dolphins. Oh, look over there, Joel!" You squeal in delight as two younger dolphins that are racing each other jump out of the water. "I so badly want to get in and swim with them, but I am afraid it will scare them away," you say.

"Their beauty is best observed from a distance. If you try to move too fast, it can ruin what's happening in the now," he responds quietly.

He says it so quietly that you wonder if you weren't supposed to hear him.

You sit and watch the dolphins play for almost an hour until they are ready to go, and they make their way out of the cove. "That was the most incredible thing I've seen in my entire life," you say breathlessly.

"I was thinking the same thing," Joel responds, but he is staring at you.

"I don't know if I've ever been this happy before. I'm so happy I could kiss you," the words escape your mouth before you can stop them.

Joel laughs, "Don't get my hopes up."

You smile but quickly look away. Your face feels like it's on fire. Joel kindly gives you a few minutes to recover and for your face to stop burning.

"Would it be horrible if I said I'm not ready to go back and join the rest of the group yet?" you ask.

Joel laughs, "It might be, but I agree with you."

He starts the engine again, but instead of heading out of the cove, he takes you to the beach at the far end of the cove.

He takes your hand and helps you down into the water. It's up to your waist when you jump down, and you wade to the beach while Joel anchors the jet ski.

You let your feet sink into the hot sand. It clings to your feet and legs as you sit down and rest your weight on your elbows. Joel walks over to join you and stretches out next to you. You both sit in silence and let the waves hit your feet.

"Did you ever go sailing again after what happened when you found the cove?" you ask.

"I didn't sail again for a long time. I resented my dad, so I purposely hated everything he loved. He loved to sail, so I refused to do it," he says with a small smile. "That's actually why I started my own business ventures in air travel. Flying always terrified my father, so I picked a business he would have no interest in."

"But you did sail again, right?"

"I did in my late twenties, only when my dad was out of town. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he was right," he answers.

You laugh lightly with Joel and return your attention to the cove. You want to take a mental picture of everything. You hope that when you look back on today, you will be able to remember exactly how you felt.

"I don't know how I will ever repay you for such a perfect day," you say.

"You don't owe me anything. I'm just glad you’re enjoying yourself."

"I will find a way," you say defiantly with a smirk.

"You are not what I expected, darlin," he says.

You laugh, "I hope that's a good thing."

Joel slides his hand toward yours and brushes your pinky finger with his. A jolt of hope rushes through you. You want to grab his hand but settle for the brief touch of your fingers against each other.

"It’s a very good thing. To be completely honest, I was dreading this trip after Sarah invited all of her friends. But, my time getting to know you has been well worth it," Joel says.

You slowly slide your hand away from his after he mentions Sarah. It's so easy to forget that Joel is Sarah's dad when you're alone together. However, that doesn't change reality. Are you awful for finding him so irresistible?

"It's probably best if we head back. We're all having dinner together at one of my favorite restaurants on the island. I think you're gonna love it," Joel says while getting to his feet. "Do you want to drive the jet ski back? I’d be happy to teach you if you'd like," he says with a hint of mischief behind his smile.

"I don't know. I've never driven anything like that before. Are you sure you trust me not to tip us both in the ocean?" you say with a shy grin.

"I trust you. Plus, I'm a strong swimmer," he says with a wink. He reaches his hand down to help you to your feet.

Before grabbing his hand, you pick up a small pink shell sitting next to you on the beach and slip it into your cover-up. You want something to remind you of the day and seeing the dolphins.

—

"This lever here is the gas, and you steer just like you would with the handlebars on a bike," Joel says from behind you on the jet ski. "Just take it nice and slow out of the cove. You can get up to a higher speed when we get to open water, and you feel more comfortable," he continues.

You can feel his warm breath on the side of your neck, and it sends goosebumps all across your body. You imagine his lips pressing to your neck where his breath is warming. You wonder what his hands would feel like on your body -

"Ready?"

"Oh, um, sorry, what?" You say, pulling yourself out of your daydream.

"Are you ready to go?" Joel says with a small chuckle. You're glad he's sitting behind you, so he can't see your face.

"Yes, I think so," you say with slight hesitation.

"Don't worry, I'm right here," he assures you. "Just take it slow."

You ease your thumb on the throttle, and slowly, you start moving. You remain at a snail-like pace until you're completely out of the cove and a bit beyond.

"Try givin’ it a bit more gas," Joel says softly next to your ear.

You aren't prepared for your stomach fluttering at Joel's closeness and not thinking clearly you hit the throttle way too hard. Your hand slips from the throttle, and with a rush of air beneath you, you go sailing through the air. A moment after you hit the ocean, you hear a second splash and know you've thrown Joel off of the jet ski, too.

As you sink into the water, you begin to panic. You can't tell which way the surface is. You fight to swim to the surface, disoriented and fighting for air. With a gasp, you emerge from the water and look around frantically for Joel. He pops out of the water next to you.

"Joel, I am so sorry! Are you okay?" You ask.

Joel's mouth breaks into a giant smile, and he starts laughing. He laughs one of those deep, uncontrollable laughs; he has finally relaxed enough to truly let go. You can't help but start laughing, too.

"See, that's why you have to wear the kill cord on your wrist. That way, if you fall off, the jet ski doesn't keep going without you," he says and starts swimming over to the empty jet ski.

You start swimming after him and watch him as he pulls himself back onto the jet ski. His back muscles flex as he gets back on, and the water droplets dripping down his body emphasize the definition between each muscle. You can't help but imagine running your hands down his back as he hovers over the top of you.

Joel reaches his hand down to pull you back on the watercraft. You have to catch your imagination before you let it wander off too far. He pulls you up effortlessly, and you sit down behind him.

"I think I'm going to let you drive us back now."

"Are you sure you don't want to take the reins again?" he says, gesturing to the handlebars.

"I think it'll be safer if I let you take over. It seems like I only have two speeds," you say with a small chuckle.

"Fine, but we're going to have you driving one of these like a pro before this vacation is over," Joel says with a small smile. You wrap your arms around his waist, and he sets off.

As Joel drives, you replay watching the dolphins swim in the cove. You're so distracted that it isn't until he stops the jet ski that you realize he hasn't gone back to the same dock where the yacht is waiting for you. Instead, you're at the edge of a small coastal town, where each side of the streets is lined with the glowing lights of shops and restaurants.

"Oh, I thought we would go back to the yacht before dinner. I can't exactly go to dinner dressed like this," you say, gesturing to your very wet swimsuit that is clinging to your body.

Joel looks you up and down and smiles, "I don't think you would hear many complaints, but don't worry, we can stop at one of the shops and get you something dry."

Your heart sinks. You have very limited funds, and getting new clothes is definitely not in your budget. Not wanting to admit this, you nod your head and follow Joel down the street. You'll have to pay him back because you haven't brought any money with you.

Joel leads the way into a boutique called, AmoreBelle, and you can already tell from the window displays that the store is way out of your price range.

The smell of fresh lavender drifts out through the door as soon as it opens. The walls and floors are the brightest white, so all of the customer's attention is drawn to the glamorous dresses hanging on the racks. You feel so out of place in your simple and very wet clothes. You pray that you won't drip on their floors.

"Well, hello, welcome back," says a saleswoman as she comes to greet you. She smiles at Joel, clearly recognizing him.

"Jane, s’good to see you still work here. This is my friend," Joel says, introducing you. "I need you to help her find some new outfits. As you can see, we need to get her out of these wet clothes."

"Anything for you. I already have some great pieces in mind that will go perfectly with her hair. I will go get you a room started, hun," Jane says and walks away.

"I'm going to head over to the men's store next door, but I think you should try this one," he says as he grabs a cocktail dress in a deep midnight blue and hands it to you.

"Your room is right this way," Jane says and gestures for you to follow her.

"I'll see you soon," Joel says and turns to leave, but before walking out the door, he stops to talk to one of the other women on the sales floor. She immediately starts gathering dresses off of the racks.

You walk around the corner, and there is a pedestal in the middle of the room surrounded by mirrors and changing room doors. You've watched TV shows where women try on wedding dresses in a setting similar to this, but you never imagined yourself in a place like this.

"I put some things for you to try in the first room on the right. Can I get you anything? Champagne?" the woman asks.

“That sounds lovely,” you say while trying to hide your shaking hands. You turn and shut the door of your changing room as soon as the saleswoman leaves. The changing room is already lined with outfits for you to try on. You take a deep breath before looking at the price tag on the dress Joel had handed you. You could have cried and probably would have had it not been for a soft knock on the door. You open the door, and the saleswoman Joel spoke to before leaving is standing there, with her arms full of elegant dresses.

"Mr. Miller asked me to make sure you leave in a semi-formal dress. I brought some great options. My name is McKenzie." she says as she starts hanging up the dresses on the hooks in the dressing room.

"Thanks," you answer. You consider running out the door and waiting by the jet ski until Joel returns, but you know you will have to explain eventually.

"Well, please let me know if you need anything."

"Actually, McKenzie. I have something to confess," you say nervously.

McKenzie looks confused but lets you continue.

"Everything in this dressing room is way out of my price range. Honestly, I probably couldn't afford a pair of underwear."

McKenzie smiles and giggles a little. Your face drops; you can't believe she is laughing at you for being broke.

"I am so sorry. I am not laughing at you; I totally understand your concern. I just figured you already knew. You don't have to be able to afford anything here."

"What do you mean?" You ask, still confused.

"Joel already has everything covered. He told me I am not allowed to let you leave this store until you have found a dress and at least ten new outfits," McKenzie says, amused with the shocked look on your face.

"I can't possibly go along with this," you say, your voice cracking.

"You have to. If you don't, we won't earn any commission." McKenzie leans closer and whispers, "I can't afford the underwear here either."

You are uncomfortable with the idea of Joel spending so much money on you, but you refuse to be the reason that these women miss out on a huge commission. You immediately feel better, knowing you have much in common with McKenzie and possibly Jane.

"Okay, where do we start?" you say with a small sigh of defeat.

"Let's start with the everyday outfits and move on to the gowns after," she says and then adds, "Oh, we can also spend some time looking at the underwear if you'd like."

That's when you realize how this must look to these saleswomen and how it would look to anyone. You start to wonder how many other women he's done this for; the saleswomen seem used to this type of thing. You quickly push the thought out of your mind. It doesn't matter what this looks like; Joel is just a kind person. Plus, there is no way he would be interested in someone like you.

After many outfit changes and finding more new clothes than you've bought for yourself in an entire year, all that is left to pick out is a dress. McKenzie and Jane have outdone themselves in giving you beautiful options. You try on every single one and are met with many compliments from the sales team as you model them on the platform in the center of the dressing rooms.

Jane refills your glass of champagne and asks, "Have you decided which one you want to go with?"

"I have one more left to try on before I decide," you say and slip back into the changing room.

As soon as you put on Joel's choice, you know it is the one. The midnight blue silk slides over every inch of your body like it is molded specifically for you. The dress brushes the floor, but a slit up one side makes it easy to move in.

"Wow," two voices behind you say in unison.

"I'll take this one.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal #joel miller smut

[lotus222]

I have a theory…

Everyone is up and arms about the elriel v. gwynriel debate so if you get easily triggered about those ships pls avert your eyes cause I’m gonna be unapologetically brutal.

I just finished reading CC2 (ik I’m behind) and it opened my eyes to something SJM has been saying since the beginning.

Now, while reading this massive book, I had a continuing foreboding feeling that Hunt was going to be replaced by Ithan as Bryce’s love interest. Bc as we know SJM always switches up the MMC after one book or so, so I was scurred. BUT

I was pleasantly surprised to see that SJM did all in her power to reinforce the idea that these two are endgame, by having Bryce CHOOSE Hunt and vice versa — going against her arranged marriage, the royal lineage requirements, and the added complexity of mates for fae, angels, and wolves

It was refreshing to see Bryce and Hunt come together out of true love as opposed to SJM’s usual trope of “oh they were destined so they have to be together”. Don’t get me wrong, I love her other couples too - but Bryce and Hunt have always been my favs bc of this fact.

Then, imagine my surprise when I see that Bryce and Hunt CHOOSE to be mates. Simply bc the title bf & gf didn’t work for them. THEN, they’re revealed to be true mates, and their love for one another simply forged this unbreakable bond where now they have the same strength (if not stronger) then preordained mates.

Here’s where the ACOTAR ships come in…

Now…i don’t care who mrs Maas decides to put together. I have loved every single couple she has produced so ik I’ll love the next inner circle couple. BUT ik in my heart of hearts and based off of common sense that it’s going to be Elain + Azriel

(Also pls keep in mind that the ACOTAR fae are the ancestors of the CC fae, which means whatever Bryce and Hunt can feel/do/etc, first originated or was discovered in the ACOTAR world) which means this true mates thing that Bryce and Hunt have can have originated with Az & Elain

CC3 takes place after ACOSF, where we all know there are things needing to be addressed. Bryce wakes up on the lawn of the townhouse where Az is and there’s fresh bread & roses in the air…then everyone else arrives later. Meaning Az was at the townhouse by himself…with the bread & roses (Elain).

Some of y’all might think that’s a stretch or irrelevant, but I think it’s fully intentional that SJM put CC3 before the next ACOTAR book. It’s bc everyone in the ACOTAR world up until this point has followed the rules of “be with your mate and love them”, but now Bryce is there as a clear example of having a mate not chosen by some stupid bowl, but by herself and her heart. Which is something I think will strike a chord with Elain and Azriel.

Az has NEVER been chosen, and I don’t think (even if gwyn is his mate or his backup singer or whatever y’all are calling her now) he will be satisfied by someone being thrown to him, forced to love him bc of a bond. He wants them to choose to love him like his dad and Mor didn’t (sry Mor stans but she didn’t, she admitted so herself in ACOWAR)

Rhys (sry cause I also dislike him after ACOSF) is just like Bryce’s bio dad and is trying to place a barrier between the couple in the name of politics and what is usually done, but just like Bryce (I.E. WHY THERE IS A BONUS CHAPTER W HER, AZ, AND NES (THE ONLY 2 (-Rhys) WHO WILL KNOW ABOUT AZ’s FEELINGS)) Az/Elain will choose to divert that standard, motivated by the love Bryce expresses for her chosen mate, Hunt.

Plus, can I mention y’all also acted this way with Cass met Emery at the end of ACOFAS…and thought they were gonna be together before ACOSF came out and now y’all are doing the same to Gwyn. I personally think Gwyn has been traumatized beyond belief by men, and I don’t think what she needs in her life to heal from that is the man that saved her from that trauma. She doesn’t need to be saved or reminded of that time in her life anymore. Like, girl could still not bring herself to leave the house of wind at the end of ACOSF. Idk about y’all but I wouldn’t fall in love with the cop who saved me from that kind of crime, I’d move on and find love for myself.

No matter if you’re a gwynriel stan or not, we can all agree that the kiss at the end of ACOSF cannot be ignored, and this relationship between Az and Elain has been building up for THREE BOOKS. Gwyn has only been here for one. Take it from me my lovely gwynriels, and be prepared for disappointment.

NOW, where does Lucien fit in all of this? I think Lucien takes the same stance as Ithan from CC. Elain doesn’t know the sassy, caring Lucien we know bc the only interactions she’s had with him were when he sold her out to Hybern (mind you: when she was ENGAGED) and when he’s been around her bc he felt this need due to a mating bond. It’s fair that she doesn’t love him, just like it’s fair that Bryce doesn’t love Ithan. Just because there’s a bond, in whatever form, doesn’t mean that entitles another to that female’s love.

Lucien deserves someone who wants to be with him and as a fan of his character, too, I don’t want him stuck with Elain. Especially when she’s made it so clear she doesn’t want him. I think Lucien accepting Elain going with Azriel will lead him back to the Spring Court (cause it’ll still hurt, and he’ll need space) and give y’all that Tamlin redemption arc you’ve been dying for for some reason.

Either way, the answer of who is Az’s mate is a big topic, so I think SJM doing the same thing with him that she did with Bryce and Hunt in CC2 would be so bomb. Plus, she’s always said that the books she writes will be with the female at the forefront, so sry babes, there’s no Azriel book.

So book 5/6 (incl ACOFAS) in the ACOTAR world will be Elriel, then it’ll be Morr/all of the couples, and the novella will probably be Spring Court (i.e., Vaasa/Tamlin/Lucien). Don’t quote me on anything past the next ACOTAR book, I’m just guessing on those

Anyway, that’s how I think it’s going to go but I’m not the author or anything, so take this as you will

#elriel #acotar #ACOSF #acowar #acofas #acomaf #sarah j maas #crescent city #bryce quinlan #hunt athalar #feysand #nessian #rhysand #feyre cursebreaker #nesta archeron #cassian #archeron sisters #book theories #a court of thorns and roses #gwyneth berdara #azriel #amren #books & libraries #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of wings and embers #sjm #house of flame and shadow #lucien vanserra

[bhaaldursgays]

It is a busy day as Karlach, not-quite-an-adult and not-quite-a-kid, follows her employer closely through the streets until they arrive at a tavern where Gortash has booked a room. The man stops by the door, turning to her with a stern gaze.

"You are to stand guard while I prepare for the meeting and let my associate in when she arrives. She doesn't like small-talk, so do try not to be as chatty as usual," he instructs, running a hand through his hair. "Do not let anyone disturb us. If any workers offer refreshments, send them away." Karlach catches him looking at the faint reflection of himself in the window on the opposite wall, adjusting his collar just a little.

"Will do, sir!" she smiles, and when he fixes his hair again she can't help but to chuckle. This earns her a look. A raised eyebrow and a challenge in his glare. "Don't worry Mr. G, you look fine!" she says, smiling wider as his eyebrows shoot even higher.

"Excuse me?" he prods, and she knows she's walking a fine line between banter and insubordination. Fortunately, she has worked with him long enough to know the line quite well.

"You're fidgeting. You keep fixing your hair and clothes. You've been doing it since we turned the corner. I'm sure she'll think you look just fine!"

For a moment Gortash just stares at her, then - to her great surprise - he huffs out a laugh and smiles. Real wide too, wider and warmer than she's seen!

"I suppose you are right," he admits. "I could be covered in oil and filth and she wouldn't care, but here I am. Fidgeting, as you put it."

"Don't sweat it, sir! She probably won't mind. And if she does, that hair-ornament you picked up earlier from the jewelers will probably make her forgive you." She dares to give him a little wink, a little tease.

That draws a smirk from him - and a quick pat on his pocket to see that the box is still there. He nods and opens the door.

"Remember; don't let us be disturbed."

"Roger that, sir," she salutes.

It takes a little while before her boss' lady friend arrives. She wears a cloak with a hood that covers her face, but she knows the password Karlach had been given.

After an hour, almost two, the woman leaves. Her hood is down this time, but Karlach doesn't get a good look of her face.

The ornament glints beautifully in her hair, however.

#baldurs gate 3 #durgetash #enver gortash #karlach #karlach cliffgate #ficlet #my writing

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 14

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+! Word Count: 9.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Cute and cocky Max, the triumphant return of Cutie the Bat, so much fluff, dancing as foreplay, discussions of sex. Summary: An unexpected invitation yields surprising revelations, and Max has some help in planning a night that neither of you will ever forget. Notes: This week enjoy a colorized photo of Cornelius Vanderbilt II and wife Alice's palatial primary residence at 5th and 57th in Manhattan. Sold in the late 1920s, the mansion was later demolished and the current Bergdorf Goodman's location built in its place. At the end of the chapter I've added in a black and white photo of the house's ballroom, which makes a special appearance in this chapter!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13

The entirety of the journey traveling from Newport to the Vanderbilt’s house on Fifth Avenue is far more tiring than you had anticipated, and when you walk in the front door of the grand mansion — with its palatial fireplace that you have only seen in photos from the Metropolitan Museum of Art — it suddenly makes a lot more sense why people talk about travel being such an undertaking in the past. You are, in point of fact, exhausted. And dirty, which is unexpected. The kicked up dust and dirt from train terminals, unpaved roads, and all manner of other frustrations has your wishing for a bath.

That will have to wait, though, as almost the moment you walk through the door Mrs. Vanderbilt is by your elbow with an envelope. “This arrived for you this morning, dear,” Alice tells you with an impressed smile. “It seems you have been summoned.” The look of confusion on your face must be particularly lustily unintelligent because Alice Vanderbilt’s smile softens into something maternal. “Mrs. William Astor has asked you to tea, I suspect. You must have made quite an impression on her at the Brown’s ball.”

“Oh!” The imposing woman in her fifties had made quite the impression on you, as well, and you carefully open the envelope that Alice has pressed into your hand. It is exactly as Alice predicted, and you look up at the grandfather clock in the hall. “Just a few hours…” you murmur, looking over at Max, Annie and Emmanuel with concern pursing your expression. “It…seems to only be addressed to me?”

“Because the invitation is just for you.” Alice hums, as if the answer is obvious. “Do not be alarmed, most often highly statured ladies like Mrs. Astor prefer their socializing in smaller circles.” She leans in and lowers her voice. “Less gossip that way.”

“I will do my best not to embarrass any of you with poor manners.” It’s an honor, in this time and this place. You know that. But that doesn’t mean you’re not seriously nervous.

“After watching you charm a ballroom, I would never dream of such a thing.” Alice waves away your concern. “Come. You must be exhausted by your journey. I will have some tea and refreshments sent to your rooms.”

While Annie and Emmanuel are shown to separate rooms on opposite ends of the long second-floor hallway, you and Max are let into a green-and-white decorated guest room on the third floor that sports one slightly larger bed. The footman who showed you the way leaves you with a bow and closes the door to give you privacy, leaving you standing with Max in the middle of the luxurious room.

“Swanky.” Max hums as he looks around the room. “I have to admit, there’s something missing in modern decor. It’s just not as…elegant.”

“I like that we have the whole newlyweds thing going for us,” you admit, looking around the room while you lean into his side. “They just assume we want to be close to each other. And they’re right.”

Max smiles smugly. “Of course you want to stay close to me.” He brags, winking at you playfully. “You want my body.”

“If you’re going to be cocky about it, I’m not going to tell you what I’ve been thinking.” Raising one eyebrow at him, you dearly wish you were in comfortable jeans and a sweater so you could just plop down on the mattress and stretch out. The traveling dress you have on definitely won’t permit that.

He eyes you wickedly and bites his lip. “Yeah?” He hums. “You don’t want to tell me that you’ve imagined me under that dress of yours? Tongue at work while you pretend to be prim and proper?”

“I’ve been imagining more than that.” It seems like every step you take with him only spurs you onto the next a little faster. Knowing that his tendency toward caretaking with you isn’t just a show or just to get in your pants means more than you can really say. Max loves you, fully and without ulterior motive. And you love him the same.

“Oh yeah?” He snags your waist, pulling you close and grinning as he pulls the bow around your waist loose. He’s teasing you, but he also knows you must be desperate to get out of your dress.

“Maybe.” Flustered and dreamy-eyed, you put your arms around his neck and let him hold you as close as he wants. “Are you really gonna get me all riled up before I have to go have tea with the Mrs. Astor?”

“Why don’t I relax you before you have tea with the Mrs. Astor?” He poses. “Make you cum while you clean up.”

“A very dirty way of getting clean.” You hum, tipping your head back to silently ask for a kiss. “And maybe…a preview to tonight?”

“My wife is greedy.” Max boasts happily. “Wanting to sleep with a tongue inside her.”

“I was thinking maybe…” You can’t help it, biting your lip to keep the grin blossoming across your face from getting too big. “Of a different part of you…”

“Fingers?” Max lifts a brow at you and grins when you shake your head. “Toe? I’ve never tried that before, to be honest.”

"I'm ready." You tell him, warmth in your cheeks and in your smile. "If you are."

“Are you sure?” Max asks seriously, reaching up and brushing his fingers over your pulse. “I don’t want you to rush because you think I’m impatient.”

"I'm sure." His sweetness is part of the reason, but you know he would deflect if you said so. "I love you, and I want to celebrate that."

“It will be good.” He promises sincerely. “Like you’ve never experienced before.”

“If it’s good then it definitely will be like I’ve never experienced before,” you joke, rolling your eyes in exaggeration to make him laugh. “Honestly love, please don’t feel any pressure. I just…I want to share this with you. That’s all.”

“I’ve felt plenty of pressure.” Max jokes, smirking at his innuendo. “But if you’re ready, the perfect place to make love to my wife for the first time, would be in the bed at the Vanderbilt’s mansion.”

“Time travel bragging right.” Every time he gets so proud to call you his wife it gives you a little shiver and you grin.

“And it’s not like we are breaking into a museum to do it.” He chuckles and turns you around to start unbuttoning the back of your traveling dress. “It will be quite the ‘feather in your cap’ as your grandfather likes to say.”

“And we’re even in the time where people actually wear feathers in their caps.” His nimble fingers are quick to undo the outer layer of your dress, pulling away the top to let you stretch a little more easily in just your corset cover and corset above what seems like miles of petticoats. Without those big sleeves it’s a lot easier to move.

Max snickers. “I’m just grateful we didn’t come to a time where wearing tights was fashionable.” He jokes.

“Why not?” You smirk at him over your shoulder. “You’ve got great legs.”

“Yeah, but it would leave nothing to the imagination, package wise.” He snorts.

“Those big ‘ol pantaloons they wore over the tights would.” It reminds you of a Shakespeare show you saw once, and the idea of Max back in that time scraping out thees and thous makes you giggle. “Maybe I’ll get the hang of this time traveling stuff and we’ll be time tourists. Who knows?”

He hums, knowing that you both can be time travelers in your own time as well, watching history unfold as you both remain ageless.

Max helps you out of your skirt, letting you shed all those extra pounds of beading and embroidery for a little while before you have to put on something suitable for Mrs. Astor. You have very little idea of what Renée packed but you’ll manage, just enjoying the freedom of lighter layers for now. Petticoats and a bustle don’t weigh too much, you’ve been surprised to find.

“Better?” Max loves the sight of you in the undergarments of the time, honestly playing into the time period movies that he had watched when he was younger. Sometimes hoping to get laid, but that one – Pride and Prejudice – that was just a guilty pleasure.

“It’s so hard to move in the full dresses.” Which is why you’re wiggling happily and stretching everywhere now that you have a little freedom. “At least we didn’t come back to the age of six-foot crinolines. You wouldn’t be able to get near me at all.”

“I don’t know what that is, but a crinoline sounds horrible.” He gives you a mock look of horror. “Don’t sent us there.”

“I promise.” He gets the giggle out of you that he was hoping for, and you turn to lean against him because you still have the bustle underneath your petticoats tied in place so you can’t just back up into his arms.

“How come the history books never talk about how dirty traveling is?” Max snorts, knowing that both of you need a bath.

“Because no one wants to read about horse shit and dust everywhere.” You laugh along with him. “I wish I had time for a bath but apparently travel by horse-drawn carriage takes foreeeeever.”

“You want to get clean, baby doll?” Max smirks. “I can clean you up real quick.”

“Speed bath?” You raise one eyebrow at him.

He chuckles. “Perks of moving fast, sweetums.” He had overheard the nickname on the dining car last night and had fallen in love with it, to tease you with, of course.

When you roll your eyes it’s entirely joking, but you cross your arms appraisingly and smirk. “Alright. Go for it.”

“Done, baby doll.” He snaps his fingers as if he were a magician, drawing your eyes away from the trick before he begins to move quickly.

When he wants to be, Max is a whirlwind. Before you know it your petticoats are strewn around the room and your corset seems to disappear in a flash, along with your chemise and stockings, all while you barely feel him touch you. The tornado of movement carries you so easily to the bathroom and within minutes you’re scrubbed clean and dry again.

When he stops moving, it’s obvious that Max has also cleaned up while taking care of your quick wash. Grinning and not even breathless as he eyes you. “Believe me now?”

“Baby,” you smirk, the expression rolling over your features with glee. “I never doubted you. I just wanted to see you show off.”

“Good.” He winks at you and shrugs. “Now you are all clean and can enjoy your visit with Mrs. Astor.”

“Wish me luck?” Walking over to the set of buttons built into the carved wood detailing of the guest room, you press the one marked to connect to you maid and sigh. You are definitely going to need Renee’s help picking out a dress.

“Of course.” Max snaps his fingers again. “I could come with you.” He offers with a coy grin.

“I don’t think the Mrs. Astor would take kindly to a bat in her house.” Though you grin broadly at the idea.

“I would make a fashionable hat accessory.” He huffs, miffed that you might deny him the opportunity.

“If you think you can hold still for an entire tea visit, I’ll take you with me.” It’s sweet of him to want to come with you, though you know it’s also because he’s an incorrigible gossip.

He tuts because he knows you’ve got him there. There’s no way he wouldn’t ruffle his wings or trill at you in his bat form. “She might like bats.” He grumbles.

“She might.” When he pouts you can’t help but kiss him, and your hand on his chest feels the thrilling thud of a single heartbeat as your lips brush his. “And if she does, I’ll bring you next time. If there ever is a next time.”

“Ooookaaaaayyy.” He rolls his eyes, playing up the pouring before he shrugs. “Tea sucks anyway. Kind of like me.” He jokes, waggling his brows. “Get it?”

“Har har har.” The exaggerated laughing noise makes both of you bust out into giggles just before a knock sounds at the door and Renee enters.

“You rang, Ma’am?” She asks politely, stock still in her own immaculate uniform. No doubt she had already cleaned herself up from the trip.

“I was hoping you might have packed a nice tea dress for the trip, Renee.” Standing in your chemise and robe in the middle of the room is more than a touch unconventional, but so are you. “I’ve had an invitation from Mrs. Astor.”

“Ohhhhhh.” Her eyes widen slightly and she nods eagerly. “I have a beautiful teal tea dress that would be perfect.” She insists.

“Well,” you flash both of them a smile, with Renee zipping right past you to the closet where your and Max’s clothes have been stored. “Here goes nothing.”

******

More than an hour later, after all the fuss of redressing, restyling, saying your polite ‘good afternoon’s to the Vanderbilts, and being bundled in and out of a carriage all on your own to take you a mere twenty minute carriage ride from number 1 West 57th Street to 350 Fifth Avenue. The house is even grander than the old photo on the damn Wikipedia page you’d seen ages ago, and you swallow thickly as you walk up to the door and ring the bell. Somehow you’re just certain Mrs. Astor’s butler will be the most intimidating possible version of that career choice.

Instead of the butler answering the door, Mrs. Astor herself is the one that pulls the door open. She had been sent word that you had accepted her invitation and had been looking out for your carriage to arrive. “Mrs. Phillips!” She beams as she opens the door wider and steps back. “I am so pleased you decided to accept my invitation.”

“It was very kind of you to ask me.” Astonished to find the woman herself standing in the front hall of her house, you falter and damn near curtsy as a footman appears to whisk your gloves and reticule away. The small hat perched on your head — not adorned with a particular bat — stays firmly in place.

“When Alice Vanderbilt told me you were going to be in town, I knew I had to have you to tea.” She slides her arm through yours and notices you craning your neck around to look at the interior. “You and Mr. Phillips will be building homes, correct? Let me give you a tour? We have so many modern conveniences.”

“We haven’t decided where to build yet.” Polite conversation seems the way to go, as Mrs. Astor escorts you around the first floor of the fashionable and enormous brownstone they call home. “We may make our home in Newport year round.”

“I would love to have a permanent home.” She admits easily. “Packing up everything I need from one home to another is so tiring at times.”

“But the summers are not always pleasant here, and winters can be isolating in Newport.” She leads you through the hall to a stunning sitting room and it’s really all you can do not to stare the way you did your very first day at your home in Newport. “There must be some advantages for being able to travel where the weather is nicest?”

“Of course there are. I know that I am very fortunate to be able to escape the intolerant weather.” She knows that she is privileged and is thankful for her children’s sake. “I would love a frolicking bath in the gardens. Or a pool, but William says that it’s too much effort.”

“Max doesn’t particularly care for the beach. I think he would probably love a pool instead.” Although, the thought of him indignantly turning into a bat just to be out in the sunshine to see you in a swimsuit almost makes you giggle.

“Then perhaps you will have an indoor pool?” She suggests. “You can swim no matter the weather outside.”

“Perhaps.” She seems delighted for you at the prospect so you smile. “And if we did, you would certainly be welcome to visit.”

“I would be visiting often.” She admits with a grin as she guides you back towards the parlor where the tea is being laid by one of the footmen.

If you had any intention of staying in this time, it would be an immense compliment. But as it is, you have to take the fact as what it is — if you get stuck here, then Lina Astor is a valuable ally to have. “You will be most welcome, pool or otherwise.”

“You are kind. And that is a refreshing thing to find.” She hums, smiling as she settles you both down on the sofa. “Very refreshing indeed.”

“It was an honor to receive your invitation.” It is, and you’re aware of that, but you’re still wondering why she invited you here other than the fact that you’re staying with the Browns. It’s not as though she knows you’re their granddaughter.

“Then I am happy you accepted.” The footman has disappeared, and Mrs. Astor leans forward to pick up the teapot. “It is not often I find other kindred spirits in my circle.”

“I—I’m sorry?” The comment takes you off guard, and you feel a little like a deer in headlights at the moment.

Her smile turns slightly coy and she tilts her head. “I don’t think that I’m mistaken.” She tells you conversationally. “Another time traveling witch?”

The mistake you made was reaching for the teacup that the footman had set beside you before leaving the room at exactly the moment Mrs. Astor said the words ‘time traveling’. Your hand clatters past the cup and saucer, nearly upending the small table beside you as your eyes grow as wide as dinner plates. “E—excuse—” Oh, Max is going to be so mad he isn’t here for this. “How could you possibly—?”

“Know that you aren’t from this time?” She muses and sets down the tea set to tap her brows. “You must have just waxed your brows before you travelled back.” Her eyes are flashing with intrigue. “What year had you left?”

"I—" It automatically makes you hide your hands, like she could somehow know that you had just taken off your nail polish the day before. "Um...2023..." you murmur, feeling very oddly like you've been caught by the Time Travel Police or something equally insane.

“Ohhhhhh.” She smiles excitedly and leans in. “Tell me about it, please?” There’s a plea in her voice that is barely noticeable under the excitement.

You don’t even know where to begin, swallowing hard and realizing that the conversation might not make any sense – in an insane sort of way – without context. "When...when have you, um...traveled to?" This time you manage to get the teacup firmly into your hands, but you're sure they must be shaking violently as you can't tear your eyes off the prim and proper madam of New York society.

“I think you misunderstand.” Lina shakes her head and reasons that it’s not a logical conclusion. “I was born in 1965. This is the time I travelled to.”

"What?" When you almost drop the delicate teacup all over again, you just shove it back onto the table.

“I would never have believed it myself.” She admits easily, continuing to talk. “However, how do you deny yourself in photographs from decades before you were born?” She asks. “I know some might think there a doppelgängers, historical figures that look like other people in different times, but I believe, like me, they are witches who have travelled to their proper times.”

"Does that mean...that once we travel...that we're stuck?" You ask, eyes widening impossibly yet again. "We go back to our proper time and stay there?" The possibility hadn't occurred to you, but it seems alarmingly real to hear her talk about it.

“Perhaps that it the wrong wording.” Mrs. Astor concedes. “Because I could have chosen to go back, but why would I when my soulmate was in this time?”

"I suppose that would account for the decision." The way your mind seems to be scrambled is the only thing that makes perfect sense at the moment, but shaking your head doesn't seem to set any of your thoughts straight at all – except one. "So there is a way to go back, then?"

She frowns slightly, tilting her head. “You mean you didn’t come here on purpose?” She asks softly, trying to understand why you would travel through time if not for a reason.

"It was an accident," you admit, feeling all the more amateurish for it. "I was trying to cast a protection spell and it...sort of imploded around me. Instead of banishing the person from where my soulmate and I were, it brought him here with us."

“Oh my.” Her eyes widen slightly and she knows there must be more to the story. “Hopefully, that person is no longer a bother to you and your soulmate?”

"No." A fact which has brought you no small amount of relief. "No. He certainly is not." This might be the most insane situation out of all of the insane situations you've ever found yourself in, and you lean forward in your seat unconsciously. "So..if you were born in 1965...do you mind if I ask where you were born? I'm endlessly curious now."

She grins and leans in. “California.”

"This is just...absolutely insane." The shake of your head still doesn't align your thoughts, but at least this time when you laugh in disbelief you don't feel foolish for it. "And you just...saw yourself in a history book?"

“Imagine my surprise.” She snorts and shakes her head. “But I just knew that it was me.”

"And I thought my story was crazy," you huff, exhaling like it's the biggest relief of your life.

“Believe me, there’s few who know my story.” Lina laughs, reaching over and covering your hand with your own. “How do you explain a colored rose tattoo on your pelvic bone to a man who has never even thought of a tattoo?”

“Oh my god.” Barely managing not to snort when you burst out into giggles, you cover your mouth and manage to recompose yourself. “That…that would not be easy,” you admit readily. “Although I guess at least it’s somewhere easily hidden.”

“Yes. William has accepted that I am from a different time, but my maid believes it is a strange birthmark.” She snickers.

“That is a remarkably detailed birthmark, Mrs. Astor,” you snicker softly, shaking your head. “Mine is essentially a blob.”

“Just so.” She agrees. “How are you acquainted with Mr. and Mrs. Brown, really?”

“I suppose it’s a moot point, to ask you to keep my secrets when you’ve already shared yours. We’re in this together.” And what a fucking weird person to even say that to, you think with an internal huff. “They are my grandparents. But only Mr. Brown knows who I really am.”

“Grandparents…how delightful.” She hums as she picks up your cup of tea and hands it back to you. “I expect that it’s easily possible because of your vampiric bloodline, your mother waited to give birth to you?”

“I should not be surprised that you know so much, I suppose?” It’s astonishing to you, but maybe it shouldn’t be. Doesn’t everyone have friends who keep their secrets? Especially within the magical community. “Yes. She did. She waited quite a while.”

“Your grandmother is the leader of her coven in Newport.” She reminds you. “I am the leader of the coven here. William has actually talked to your grandfather about immortality.”

“Really?” Imagining the Astors in the future makes your head spin a little, but how is it any weirder than you coming back to this time? “If you ever find yourself in 2023, come and visit.”

Picking up her own tea, she adds a sugar cube and stirs it. “Your soulmate is immortal? Or just a lucky human? I wasn’t quite able to tell.”

“Max is immortal.” And you almost laugh to yourself, thinking again how much he would love to be here for this. “My grandfather was his sire…either several years ago or it will be many years in the future. Depending on how you look at it.”

“How fascinating it all is.” She wonders, blowing on her tea and taking a small sip. “What a wonderful connection. I hope that your time here is fruitful?”

“I hope so, too.” You admit, blowing out a sigh of your own. “Of course, if I can never figure out how to get us home, our time here will be permanent.”

“Yes,” at the mention of that, Lina straightens. “That is why I asked you to tea. To get to know you, but also inquire if you are well versed in the spells.” She sets her tea down and stands, moving over to the bookcase. “I have all my own spells here, including the one to bring me to my William’s time.”

“I am not particularly well versed in any spells at all.” The idea of an Astor family grimoire piques your interest as you watch her move amongst the shelves, pulling things out quickly in a very particular order until a hidden panel in the wainscoting pops open. Of fucking course Mrs. Astor has a secret compartment for her grimoire. “My magical education came late in life.”

“The perhaps I might give you a copy?” She asks, knowing that you might not have your own family grimoire. If her own could assist you in creating one, she would be delighted.

"Are you serious?" At least the more modern phrase won't sound too foreign to her as you stare at the petite figure of Lina Astor over your teacup. "I—I mean—that would be so incredibly generous of you."

“I will start writing it out immediately.” She promises as she brings the leather-bound book over to the sofa. “By the time of your grandmother’s ball, it will be in your hands.”

"Then I suppose we're here until at least Samhain." A few weeks in 1885 won't do you any harm, but it makes your smile flicker slightly at the thought of missing your own Samhain ball. It makes you wonder how Allison and Eddie are doing – what they're doing – and if Yayo has even explained what's going on.

“Delightful.” She winks at you, even as she speaks properly. “You and I will have to have tea again then. I will call on you?”

"Any time." In the back of your mind you vaguely recall that the appropriate length of a social call in this time period is something absurd like fifteen minutes, and you figure that period must be up. "We're staying with the Cornelius Vanderbilts until Friday, then returning to Newport."

Nodding, she understands your reasoning and bites her lip. “I will be attending the opera tomorrow night, will you be attending as well?”

"My grandparents were kind enough to let us use their box." An actual box at the opera sounded like a beautiful night to you and Annie had been over the moon to bring Emmanuel to the Academy of Music. "My soulmate has never been to an opera before, so we should be in for a fun night."

“Then I will see you at intermission.” Lina decides with a warm smile. “I have to admit that I am very glad you came to tea. It had been a long time since I have talked about…things.”

"I'm glad I wasn't too nervous to accept." Standing from the sofa, you have just enough time to compose yourself before a footman steps up to the drawing room door. You can see your gloves and reticule lying on the table in the foyer and you know that that's your signal. "Thank you for having me, Mrs. Astor. I look forward to seeing you again."

“Call me Lina.” She demands softly, setting the book down and leaning in to give you a quick hug. “We are sisters after all.”

"I will see you tomorrow night, Lina." You squeeze her back gently before striding from the room and accepting your things from the footman with a smile. Whatever you had expected this visit to be, it was nothing like that at all, and you're all the more glad for it as you get into the carriage.

As soon as the door closes, the bat that had been sitting up on top of the curtain flutters down and lands in your lap, squawking.

"Well, hey Cutie pie. I know you." It's all you can do not to burst out into giggles, but you scoop Bat Max up in both hands and let him snuggle into your chest as the carriage lurches and starts off down the street to take you back to the Vanderbilt's house. "You're never going to believe the visit I just had," you tell him honestly, blowing out a deep sigh.

Max turns his head and practically sticks it down your bodice, thankful that the tea dress is lower cut than your traveling dress. Flapping his wings and squeaking in response to you.

"If you wanted to grope me, you could do it in human form," you snort, giggling at the little bat's antics. "So it turns out..." you cuddle your soulmate's animal form as the carriage bumps and jostles along the road, hand wrapped around his small body to keep him safe against you. "The legendary Mrs. Lina Astor? Is a witch."

Snuggled happily between your breasts, Max trills, hating that he has to pull away, but he can’t transform in your dress. “What?!?” He demands as soon as he is very much in a human form again, eyes bugged out in surprise.

“I swear on every god I can think of,” you promise, holding your hand up like it’s some kind of solemn oath. “But it gets crazier. She’s a fucking time traveler, too!”

“Bullshit.” Max huffs, not thinking you are a liar, but who can that be?

“I swear!” The way you practically double over cackling — or you would have doubled over if not for the corset — tells him how dead serious you are. “She was born in 1965. Saw herself in history books and knew she had to come back.”

“Isn’t that a mind fuck?” Max’s eyes widen. “One of the most historical female figures in America is a time traveler.”

“She’s going to make me a copy of her grimoire,” you murmur, voice full of awe as you lean into your soulmate’s side. “I can’t fucking believe I found another time traveler. And by accident!”

“It seems as if she recognizes something about you.” He worries about that slightly, but with Mrs. Astor as an ally, it would smooth a lot of issues for you should they arise.

“She noticed my eyebrows.” It’s such a stupid detail to you that it’s laughable, but it’s completely on point when you look at it. The fact that you had gone to the salon with Allison just the day before everything happened is what made your appearance stick out to a woman who actually knew what eyebrow waxing was. “She said she’d help me. So I can get us back safely. But…the copy of her grimoire won’t be ready until Samhain. So it looks like we have two more weeks in 1885.”

“I won’t mind that.” Max admits with an easy grin. “Although you might.” He snorts, lifting a brow. “You start your period in two weeks.”

“Pain killers in this time have cocaine and heroine. I am not taking a damn thing.” You’re not surprised at all that your blood drinking soulmate with a superhuman sense of smell already knows your cycle, so you just bypass that face completely. “I will be begging for hot chocolate, though.”

“All the hot chocolate you can drink.” He promises with a smirk. “I think your mother likes my hot chocolate too.”

“She does.” And of course he’s smug about that. He deserves to be. “But you can’t cave and give her the recipe. She used to make me Swiss Miss when I was a kid.”

“Oh no.” He huffs. “This is my secret recipe.” He insists. “You only get that when you’ve been married to me for a hundred years.”

"Real married or pretend married?" You tease, grinning as you snuggle deeper into his side.

“Real.” He snorts. “Have to make sure you’re with me for me and not my hot chocolate.” He teases. “Although, before I forget….do you want to dance tonight?”

"I'd love to." Your hand slips gently into his, fingers threading together, and you squeeze his hand in yours. With your head on his shoulder at the carriage bumps along the road, this is pretty damn close to bliss.

“Good.” Max’s fingers caress your palm. “I hired a little band of musicians to play for us after Alice said I could use the ballroom tonight.”

"You hired a band?" Reeling back to look him in the eye, your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline in surprise. "What's the occasion? Did I not know it was your birthday or something?"

“No.” If he was still living, his cheeks would be scorching hot, but he does look a little embarrassed. “Since it’s…since you want to…” he waggles his brows suggestively in an endearing immature way. “I wanted to make it special. A night you wouldn’t forget.” He also wants to show you that you deserve some to put in the effort for you.

"Honey..." Your gasp, you have realized since being with someone who doesn't need to breathe, is so uniquely human. He might be looking slightly embarrassed, but your jaw is on the floor of the carriage and tears have sprung up into your eyes as you stare at him. "You—really?" It's so far outside of the realm of what you could ever have expected that you don't even know what to say. "For...me?"

“Was it dumb?” He had been sure that you would love it. “It’s dumb. I should have asked, right?” He panics and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Dolly, I just wanted to make it special.”

"Max." Tugging on his hand slightly makes him look at you, and you shake your head fiercely even as you reach up with your free hand to touch his cheek. "That is the sweetest, most thoughtful, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me and if we weren't already engaged I'd been asking you to marry me right here in this carriage." The watery shine in your eyes is nothing less than pure happiness and pride, and you lean forward to kiss him with soft surety. "In fact, I'm prepared to say fuck it and get married right here in 1885, just so I can proudly call you my husband for real."

He stares into your eyes for a moment, the unease fading and he bites his lip. “I just wanted you to feel special.” He admits quietly. “You are special. And I want you to believe it.”

"My whole adult life, no one has ever believed in me or loved me the way you have." It's somehow simultaneously exhilarating and humbling, the magnitude to which Max's love is worn entirely on his sleeve. It's obvious, not just evident, and you never thought that you were worth someone's entire devotion the way Max has given every ounce of himself over to loving you. "I hope I give back even half of what you do. And I'm glad we have literally all the time in the world for me to learn to love you exactly as well as you love me. Because you're special too, sweetheart."

“Of course I am.” He flashes you a smirk that is pure bravado, and more than a little facade, but he won’t argue with you. It would be pointless when you would say you weren’t worth it to him.

"I just never want you to doubt it, that's all." Max deals with his insecurities in very different ways than you do. You know that. So instead of huffing at him or rolling your eyes or anything of that sort, you just smile and kiss the corner of his mouth again.

“I knew I should have gone with you.” Max pouts, but he knows his presence might have derailed the conversation.

"Today will hardly be the last that we hear or see of Lina Astor," you remind him with a grin. "She might even pop up to 2023 to see us sometime."

“That would be pretty fucking cool.” Max muses. “Her husband has certainly made enough money to support them.”

"I don't know if he's ever actually time traveled with her, but it would be pretty fun if they popped into the future to visit." The two of you lean back again in the carriage, resting against each other's sides as it pulls around the corner of the avenue. "Can you imagine throwing a ball in 2023 and having an Astor show up?"

“No one would know who they were.” Max points out. “They could move through the time in complete anonymity.”

"Unless we find the one person who is like...an Astor family historian or something." That person must exist, you're sure of it. But thankfully, you definitely don't know them. Although if you did? That would be an interesting introduction. "You do know that if I get my time traveling down as well as hers, we could do that, too?"

“Has she travelled to other times as well?” He asks, confused as he wonders. Could that explain why the Astors had a golden touch in business?

"Visits are so short here that I didn't really have time to ask," you admit sheepishly. "But I offered for her to come and visit us in our time and she didn't immediately shut me down or anything, so I have to think it's possible. It's magic not like...a wormhole or a tear in the space-time continuum, right? So theoretically a witch who can master it should be able to pick their destination just like Marty McFly plugging a date into the Delorian."

“Do they make it in a broom model?” Max jokes, chuckling at his own humor when you roll your eyes. “It’s funny and you know it.”

“I’m getting a bumper sticker for abuela’s fancy car when we get home,” you inform him, laughing under your breath at your own bad joke. “My Other Ride Is a Broom.”

“You would not put a sticker on that car.” Max is horrified in a decidedly male way about that, his eyes wide and anguished. “My car’s probably been towed off, or stolen.”

“I’m sure Yayo had it picked up. After all— he knows where we are.” The carriage rolls to a stop and you stretch as much as your dress allows. “Home sweet temporary home.”

“What a temporary home it is.” Max snorts, admiring the grandeur of the facade. “I could see having a gothic style architecture if we were here permanently. Play up the spooky vibes.”

“Maybe we should build a house anyway,” you joke with a grin. “Come and go as we like once I figure out how to get us back and forth.”

“Which house in history has an ambiguous past?” Max asks, lifting a brow curiously.

“There’s a lot of them.” Off the top of your head there’s things like Boldt Castle in New York and the Winchester Mystery House. “And I bet Yayo would take care of it for us.”

“Hmmmm.” Max is thoughtful a moment before he shrugs one shoulder. “Perhaps it’s one of ours.” He tells you. “Stranger things have happened.”

“Maybe we’ll get back and Mrs. Taylor will hand us an extra set of keys.” The thought makes you grin, and the carriage jostles just as one is the Vanderbilt’s footmen comes out to open the door and lend you a hand. What seemed unnecessary and dramatic in period films now makes perfect sense. If you didn’t have help getting out of this carriage you’d never be able to find the sidewalk for all the dress you have to wear.

Max managed to turn into a bat before the footman opened the door. That way he will not cause any questions amongst the staff about how he wasn’t with you and then he was. Luckily for stealth, the dips and flounces hide your bat-ified soulmate from sight and you just climb the steps into the house neatly after saying thank you to the footman without anyone being any wiser.

Max smirks a batty little smirk and clings to the folds of your outfit, enjoying being carried into the house with no one the wiser.

******

When Mrs. Vanderbilt also falls in love with an idea, she isn’t one to sit on it. Max asking for the ballroom to dance with his bride sounded like the most thoughtful and romantic thing that she had ever heard of. She had pointed him in the direction of a small orchestra, and had personally gone to the kitchen to have the idea of a dinner for two planned out with the cook with a footman assigned to serve the quiet meal.

There were flowers everywhere. She must have sent Renee out to purchase every flower from every corner within a ten block radius. Bouquets of them set around a small garden table that has been laid out for two, a champagne bucket beside it. The candles and glass lanterns low enough to give the enormous room a romantic, intimate glow. You had been hustled through another bath, a fresh ball gown that had to come from somewhere, although you don’t remember seeing it amongst your purchases even though it is vaguely familiar, and some of Alice’s own jewels around your neck when you are escorted into the room to find Max waiting for you. His own bath done and his tailored tuxedo making him look every inch the dashing, handsome vampire that he is.

“This is a lot more than just dancing…” you gasp, one gloved hand going straight to your heart as you look around. The Vanderbilt’s expansive ballroom looks like it has been taken over by a fairy kingdom with the way it overflows with blossoms, and you look to Max in awe. “It’s stunning, love. You’re… you’ve…” There really aren’t words for the way your heart swells in your chest, and you walk over to him with sure steps to wrap your arms around him. “My soulmate is the sweetest man in the whole world,” you murmur against his chest.

“I didn’t do all this.” Max admits with a shake of his head. “I just mentioned that I wanted it to be special.”

“No?” You pull back from him, incredulous, and look around then down at yourself. “This dress?”

“Well…” he shrugs. “I asked Alice if there is a dress that was suitable for a night of dancing.”

“So I need to write Alice the world’s best thank you note for hosting us. That’s what you’re saying?” Looking at the pair of you together in the nearby mirrored wall paneling, though, your eyes widen in recognition. “I know this dress!” You realize just a second later.

“Really?” Max frowns for a moment and tilts his head. “From where?”

“From the attic.” Your eyes are wide when you look back at him and you practically giggle. “The day that we all dressed up and went to the mansion?” It seems like years and years ago that you were first getting to know the girls in the Newport coven, and the pang of missing them hits deeply. “Allison wore this.”

“How interesting.” He guides you over to the table and pulls out a chair for you to sit down.

"I guess it goes to show that this was supposed to happen?" When he sits down across from you, the two of you exchange a shared, soft smile. "Maybe we shouldn't be surprised anymore? Since life has thrown us so many curveballs already."

“It’s been nothing but adventure since you’ve arrived.” Max admits with a chuckle. “But I’ve enjoyed the ride. How about you?”

"I wouldn't change a single thing." And you really wouldn't. Even the parts filled with uncertainty or fear have brought you closer together, but more than anything he has given you strength and confidence that you never had before. Loving Max has made you a better person, inside and out. "And I'm very excited for every adventure that is still to come."

Smirking proudly, Max takes the bottle of champagne from the bucket and looks at it and then at you. “Sweetheart….do you want me to have this taken away?” He asks softly. “I don’t think Alice knew.”

"If you want to have some, it's okay." He likely won't, having insisted since the day he found out why you don't drink that he will abstain right along with you. But it's also not like this meal will hold much interest for him considering his preferred diet, so you give him the choice.

The bottle goes back in the bucket and he shakes his head. “I’m good.” He knows that you wouldn’t want any, but he always wants to continue to make sure that you know that if you want to have some again, you have that option.

The footman, confused by the turn of phrase, seems to understand that champagne will not be necessary and steps forward to remove the ice bucket and its contents. “I’ll let Alice know that we don’t drink alcohol when I thank her for tonight,” you tell Max. “It’s…all of this is absolutely beautiful.”

“Whatever you want to tell her, baby.” Max from before would offer advice, but he has learned that you just want to explain and not have your feelings or ideas overruled. “Tonight is about you and I want it to be perfect.”

"Tonight is about us." It's about growing closer and about this last, large step forward. You can't be sure if it's taken longer than you thought or far less time than you would have imagined, but having now spent enough nights actually sleeping with Max along with getting to know him, the time for euphemistic sleeping together feels exciting.

He might not feel that way, but he doesn’t argue. Knowing that it’s important for you that he also be included. His soulmate is actually very considerate and he is grateful for that. “Do you want to eat before we dance?” He asks with a grin. “Or work up an appetite?”

"I would hate to interrupt the chef's schedule." According to your abuela, meals in this time are a well-orchestrated dance all in their own right, and you look to the footman for any kind of confirmation or denial of a firm schedule existing. "Might we have time for a turn or two before the meal begins?"

The man smiles at the question, thinking briefly, and almost bows to you with his deep nod. "I will make sure of it, Mrs. Phillips. Please, enjoy yourselves," he says before excusing himself.

The tails of the tuxedo are something that Max believes should still be around in his own time, flicking them out as he stands and glides around the table. “Will you waltz with me, Mrs. Phillips?” He asks, bowing as any gentleman of the time would. Your Yayo had spent time to make sure that Max fit in and did not make any social blunders.

"Mr. Phillips, I would be delighted." You're both up and out of your chairs again, and the leader of the small band that has been hired takes Max's cue to strike up a lively but simple waltz. The man clearly took working up an appetite literally, and you have to smile as Max puts one hand around your waist and draws you in close – a perfect ballroom frame supporting both of you in place before he leads you into the dance.

Like every time Max has danced with you, he is struck by how seamless it is. It’s as if you and he become one at that moment and move in perfect coordinated unison. There’s not a split second’s hesitation, no faltering. Working easily as if you had been partners for a lifetime, which one day will be true.

The swells in the music become dips and turns, the swaying of your frame in Max's keeping you in time and making sure no feet ever get stepped on. The movement is smooth as silk and completely entrancing, although you know that some of your favourite moves are impossible in a gown this large. All that matters is that you and Max stay connected, moving together with fluidity and grace. Sometimes it feels like the happiest you've ever been are these moments dancing with Max, and you wonder if tonight might somehow equal that or make it feel even more magical than it already does.

The mood is already romantic, the music and the dance coupled with the lighting and what both of you know is to come. It’s fairy tale quality and still Max wishes for more. Wanting you to remember tonight forever, looking back at the moment that you truly became his and he became yours. For all his easy flirtations and past liaisons, he wants to continue to romance his soulmate, for everyday to be an opportunity for you to fall more in love with him.

"You're thinking awfully hard about something," you murmur when he pulls you back to his chest after a turn. His expression of concentration is so easy to pick out, and always makes you want to smooth your thumb over his forehead to soothe the creases away.

“Thinking about you.” He admits easily. “How you deserve so much more. How special you are.” He knows you will protest, but he will just have to dance with you more.

"The perfect example of why we're soulmates." Humming softly, you squeeze his shoulder with your off hand and offer him a soft smile. "We think the world of each other and nothing of ourselves." He has masked it with bravado for pretty much his entire life, but when it comes down to it, he has just as many issues with how he perceives himself as you do. "I love you, Max. Completely. You're the most special thing in the world to me, so if I'm as special as you say we're a hell of a team."

The words are the soft, sweet ones that he has craved his entire life and he savors them. Tucking you against his body and closing his eyes. “We are a hell of a team.” He insists. “Now we just need to find out what dancing between the sheets looks like for us.”

He manages to say it quietly enough that it doesn't echo across the ballroom, keeping it for your ears only, and you giggle with soft delight. You're actually excited for this, which isn't something that you were sure you would ever feel again. "I think it'll be very rhythmic," you tease.

He chuckles and nods. “A steady, continuous rhythm.” He promises. Unlike any previous lovers, Max doesn’t get tired. Any changes in the pace would be because he fumbles or he wants to change, not because he’s unable to keep it up.

"Mr. Phillips, I think that counts as scandalous," you hum, fanning yourself with your own hand dramatically and wishing that just this once you actually had one of those fancy hand fans to tease him with.

"You would faint in shock at all the scandalous things that I would do to you, Dolly." Max snorts playfully, sending you a hot look as he dips you low and presses his face into your breasts before slowly dragging you upright again.

“Maybe I would.” Considering there is an entire group of strangers in the room, you demure a little even though you’re shivering with anticipation on the inside. “Perhaps I am terribly proper and ladylike and this is where I’ve belonged all along.”

“I can see that.” He growls, flashing his fangs at you playfully for a split second. “And I am the wicked vampire ready to defile you.”

When you giggle and have to smother a snort, it’s because you’re sure that anyone overhearing this would assume you were really into sexy role playing or at least fantasy foreplay. When the fact is, it’s just who you are. A little silly, a lot romantic, and entirely devoted to making each other happy.

Around the room, your skirts swish and sway as he leads you. Speeding up and then slowing down along with the music. His eyes always on you as he twirls you around the dance floor. Aware that some of the Vanderbilt staff have peeked in, but it doesn't bother him, never minding an audience.

They're peaking in from around the corner screen and through the pocket doors at the end of the room, and you're dimly aware of their presence without ever minding it for a single second. Renee is probably with them, which makes you smile, and you hope she is enjoying the attention of fielding all sorts of questions about Miss Brown's mysterious new friends.

Max spins you again, taking this as seriously as any dance competition. He’s not expecting perfection but it seems that together, you move flawlessly. Making him proud of your abilities and he beams as he pulls you close again.

When the song draws to a close, Max holds you close to his chest instead of going for some dramatic end pose, letting the last strains of music fade away with you held fast to him as your heart beats wildly out of time. After a moment you become dimly aware of a soft clapping and glance over at the band, all of whom are politely applauding your performance. Your cheeks burn hot instantly and you laugh, but curtsy. It must not be often that they get a private show like this.

Max grins, proud of you and his movement shows it as he guides you back to the table for the first course. “My little ballroom dancer.” He coos softly. “So perfect.”

“I’m just following your lead, love,” you remind him softly. There is nothing but pure love in your eyes.

“Nothing I love more than to lead you around the dance floor, and hopefully something more tonight.” He smirks slightly and helps you sit down.

“I think we’ve moved past hope and into certainty.” As you sit down you give his hand a squeeze. You’re ready. Completely ready.

“Never want you to feel like you can’t end things immediately.” Max sits down and he immediately reaches for your hand.

“I know.” And you appreciate it more than you can say. “But I don’t think that will be the case.” If you’re honest, you’ve started to crave the closeness of him, so tonight is exactly what you want.

“I guarantee it won’t.” He winks at you playfully. “But I do want my wife to tell me exactly what she expects of her husband.”

“I promise.” And you will. Just…not where an army of servants can overhear every detail. That conversation is reserved for when you’re actually alone.

He can see the way your eyes flicker to the staff and he hums. “As you wish, Queenie.”

Dinner is gorgeous. An intricate dance all its own, executed with a precision that you really have to admire. Alice’s staff is amazing and the food is to die for. The band plays several more lovely songs for you, and you and Max dance well into the night. When you finally thank them for their time and go upstairs for the evening, you feel like you’re floating on air.

Max marvels at how warm and soft your hand is in his. Waiting for you to start sweating or even get slightly clammy from nerves, but you never do. Just soft sighs of happiness and beguiling smiles as you look over at him. "Tired, sweetheart?"

"Not at all." You've said goodnight to Renee and to Emmanuel's valet already, telling them you don't need help getting ready to sleep tonight, and that leaves just you and Max alone in your room together with a fire to keep you warm. "I do want to go to bed, though."

______

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #time travel #mysterious inheritance #witches #vampires #it's the Gilded Age bitches!

[novaonhere]

Quiet Nights

Relationship: Cal Kestis x f!reader

Summary: Cal has a dream that totally goes against the Jedi code. During his panic, you come to check on him and find him in a comprisable position.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: ITS SMUT TIME FOLKS, 18+, oral f! receiving, no condom, cussing, choking (duh the force?)

A/N: Delicious, I drank a full 32 oz of water after this

Prompt: Imagine your OTP where one of them had a dream about the other person and tries to act normal, but fails miserably, so the other one notices and gets curious about what the dream was about.

(gif not mine)

————————————————————————

You yawn, filling up your cup with water from the bathroom sink. You gulp it down, refreshing you as much as a glass of water at 3:34 am could. It was nice having a bigger bathroom; you're used to the small Mantis bathroom instead of this spacious one on Jedah. You, Cal, Bode, and Greez have arrived to the Hidden Path's base to touch base with Cere and learn more about this Tanalorr place. It seemed intriguing, but you were still on the fence if such a place could even exist.

Now here you stand, staring yourself down in the mirror, filling up another glass of water. As soon as you turn off the tap, a very faint and quiet noise echoes throughout the halls. Curious, you open the door, the noise just becoming ever so slightly louder. Time to investigate!

---

Cal twists and turns in his guest bed, his entire upper body reddened. Soft moans escape his lips. He was burning, and he couldn't bring himself to wake up. Hell, he didn't want to wake up. This was the best dream he had ever had!

You had surprised him with a night for just the two of you, walking through the forests on a planet he could not name. The trees towered above you, vibrant with their green leaves. They bring in just enough light to highlight the rugged dirt path. You both were holding hands, just enjoying each other presence. Now, the dream changed, and it most definitely explains Cal's reddened complexion as he lies in bed.

You're now hovering over him, in a beautiful matching set, perfectly complementing your skin tone. Lace runs up and down your body, showing off your curves and parts that Cal only wishes he could actually touch. You leaned in for a passionate kiss, straddling the man. He could basically feel you in his subconscious.

---

The sounds started to become louder the closer you got to you and the guest bedroom next door. Who was staying in there again? Is that Cal? You tip toe up to the door, placing an ear beside it. Yep, that's him, is he alright? You knock quietly, waiting for a response. The response never came. You knock a bit louder this time. A gasp fills the room, as well as some frantic shuffling.

"Cal?" You whisper to the door, the shuffling stopping immediately. "Are you alright?"

"Come in," He blurted, immediately regretting it. You hesitantly open the door, the light from the hallway showing a line of brightness on the man. He's sitting against the headboard, the blankets ruffled around his crotch and legs.

"Nightmares?" You ask, taking a step in and quietly closing the door behind you. "Would you like to talk about it?" You squint your eyes to get a better look at him, your eyes still adjusting to the dark. His are as wide as possible, extremely dilated from the darkness and the dream.

"I'm okay, thanks for checking, goodnight." He rambles, trying to sink into his bed. This only makes you more curious. As you eyes get more adjusted, you notice that his cheeks match his hair.

"Oh," You realize, blushing as well. "My apologizes." You giggle, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. "Who?" Cal just blinks.

"What?"

"Who was it! Mr. Jedi, Mr. I can't ever think about another person in a romantic or sexual way." You tease, playfully hitting his foot. He purses his lips together, causing your grin to only become greater. "Oh, come on Cal! This is big! Who?"

"Why is it so important?" He grumbles, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Oh my god, do I know them?" You cross your legs, fully facing the clearly embarrassed Jedi. He rolls his eyes, but the redness only darkens and spreads. You giggle gleefully. You hum, trying to think of who it could be.

You really hoped it was you. For months you've been trying to hint to him about your feelings, sometimes very vague, but other times very blunt. The rest of the crew caught on immediately, but the gears in Cal's brain just didn't seem to click. You've tried asking about dating and his romantic life, but he always brought up the Jedi Code, making your want for him only increase. You've had dreams, dreams of you being together, living through the rebellion, being together, domestically and intimately.

You're expression must softened as you were thinking because Cal coughed to get your attention. Now it was your turn to blush.

"You going to guess or let me go back to sleep?" He asked, rubbing his eyes. Now, you had a choice. Respect his want to go back to bed and continue about life, or be VERY BLUNT. You were tired, so there was only one right option.

"Was it me?" You ask, glancing around the room, trying to not meet his gaze. Cal's breath hitched, the blanket becoming too hot for his body. From the lack of response, you also started to heat up, clearing your throat. From the lack of response, you could only assume it was you. You. YOU?

You whip your head to face him, locking eyes. You... He wanted... you. You honestly couldn't believe it.

"Was it just a dream?" You mumble, Cal giving a questioning expression as you shift in your seated position. "Or do you actually have feelings?" You vulnerability seemed to easy Cal a bit, noticing how uncomfortable you were. He wanted to say the truth, but he didn't want to make it weird. Would it be weird? Eh, tonight was the "going for it" kinda night.

"Months." He simply states, trying to relax against his headboard. You perked your head up from your gaze into your lap. You cheeks redden, your breathing quickens, and something feels, different. The atmosphere feels intoxicating, but in a you shouldn't leave way. With the prolonged eye contact, you feel ass if Cal notices the feeling as well. You notice his hand are now at his sides, and there's an obvious lump by his lap. That weird feeling starts from your stomach and falls down your body, closer to your belly button.

"Months?" You repeat, raising an eyebrow. He purses his lips and nods. You hum. "Well..." You both grow silent, quiet. This had to be the quietest you too had ever been with each other. You waited for each other to make a move, but in all honesty, Cal was too vulnerable, physically. You start to feel the awkwardness subside and you feel yourself giggle.

"Hey, it's not funny." Cal frowns, while you shake your head.

"No, of course not." You compose yourself, scooting closer to the red head. "It's funny that we are telling each other we like each other with your dick out." Cal's face reddens completely, trying to compose himself as he places his hands over his lap. You outstretch your arms, pushing his hands away, causing the freckled man's eyes to widen dramatically. "Need any help?"

Cal practically springs up at you, locking your lips together in the most "I need you" kiss you've ever experienced. It was HOT. Like, you already started to sweat as your tongues fought each other. You needed him, you needed him so badly. He could feel that need from you, he wanted to provide that for you more than his dreams ever could. He pulled your up and into his lap, never once breaking the kiss. Your clit brushes against him, causing you to quiver in pleasure. He notices your movements and moves your hips back and forth on him, earning himself a quiet moan from you. He chuckles, retracting his lips from yours and goes for your neck. Your arms are around his shoulders, dragging your fingertips through his hair. You continue to moan and gasp into his ear, trying to stay quiet.

"You're wearing too many clothes for this," He comments, lifting the bottom of your shirt. You instantly comply, throwing it over your head and onto the floor. He goes back for your lips as you also tug on his shirt.

"Match?" You ask, giving him a small smile. He gladly follows through with your request, throwing his shirt toward yours. Your eyes wander down to his toned chest, scars and freckles decorating his body. You feel a fluttering sensation down there.

"Well if we're going to match you need that all off." He motions to the rest of your body, causing your to giggle and raise an eyebrow.

"You dont wear pants to bed, but a shirt?"

"Hey, my arms get cold. Allow me," He states going back in for a kiss. You immediately deepen it, allowing his tongue into your mouth to explore. All the while he waves his hand and your bra unclasps. Startled you pull away.

"Force?" You ask, tossing your bra away. He smiles, nodding, staring at you. He's never seen you like this, and boy was he going to enjoy and savor it. "Well, what else can you do?" He picks you up and slides you to be propped up where he once was, with the blanket still covering his lower half. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts, but before he does any more, he looks up at you. This causes your to blush, appreciative of the asking for permission. The knot in your core only tightens, god he was hot. Nodding, he slips them down with ease, along with your underwear. He crawls up to your face, giving you more kisses. He starts to trail down your body, more moans and gasps leaving you as he goes over your bare body. Finally he reaches below your belly button. He places light kisses to your thighs as he opens your legs with his free hand. You're practically dripping with anticipation by this point. He continues to kiss you, going closer to your inner thighs and to your opening. Propping your legs open with his body and arm, he proceeds to trail more and more kisses closer and closer.

Your arms are clutching the sheets by your sides, the amount of pleasure awaiting you but just out of your reach. The amount of teasing is excruciating; you need him. You moan louder and louder the closer he gets to your clit. Then, he proceeds to rub his tongue around your clit in circles. Your breathing hitches and becomes irregular.

"Fuck-" You cry out, making Cal only want to do more things to you. You were already so wet that he easily slid a finger into you, causing you to moan. He pumps in and out of you, slowly, making sure to curl his fingers up into you. How he knew how to do this you'll never understand, but holy shit was he doing a good job. He slides in another finger, starting to pick up the pace. Your hips start to have a mind of their own, fighting against him to push him deeper.

"Tell me," he states, looking up at you. His chin is glistening with you, his eyes so dilated they were almost black. His mouth hung open slightly, totally getting off to pleasing you.

"Deeper," You whine, and he grants your wish. He pushes deeper into you, causing you to whine out in pleasure.

"Holy Shit, Cal," You cry out, breathing erratically. The knot in your core tightens more, needing to find a good time to release. He quickens the pace, leaning over you to bring your lips together. Oh yea, that did it. You feel yourself just let go and this amount of pleasure and warmth rushes over you. It's so much that you moan out more expletives and his name repeatedly. After your high, you just see him. You need more, and god did you want to get more.

"Fuck me," You command, and he obliges. Pulling you closer to him, he uncovers his member, resting it on your stomach as he gets situated. He pulls a pillow and rests it under your lower back to make sure you don't hurt yourself, and keeping your ankles over his shoulders. You couldn't look away from him. Even his dick was freckled, which was kinda cute, but all you cared about was him and the fact you needed him in you.

"Are you ready?" He asks, noticing he has his dick in hand, ready to line himself up.

"Fuck, please," You groan, already closing your eyes in anticipation. He slides in, both of you moaning in pleasure.

"Holy shit, (Y/N)," he breathes out, barely over a whisper. His head is tilted back, holding onto your ankles. Your hands are by your lower stomach, trying to feel him in you from the outside because holy shit was he filling you full. He slowly starts to pump in and out of you, fully in, and fully out. Every pump in, you moan in delight. Sweat rolls down the both of you as you fill the room with heat and the sounds of pleasure. He starts to go faster, holding onto your thighs to bring you even closer.

"Cal~" You moan, holding your hands to your mouth because you knew you were about to get pretty loud. Without much thought, he pulls out and flips you onto your stomach. You push up onto all fours as he makes his way between your legs, entering you once more. Your arms give out, pushing your face into a pillow. This was helpful for covering your moans, but Cal wanted to hear them as he railed you. Carefully, he commanded the force to pull you up, by the neck. At first, only gently to not hurt you but to get up. You clenched in pleasure, moaning even louder. So, he also tightened his grip. Damn, so this is what he could do. After a bit more relentless railing, you felt your core have that same tightening sensation.

"Cal, I'm gunna-" You moan as he quickens the pace, causing you to moan out.

"Me too, fuck." He whispers out, nearing his release. Hearing him cuss like that over you sends you over as you scream out in delight. You clench onto him and release, an explosion of pleasure ruptures over yourself. His force lets go of you, making your head topple into the pillows. He grabs your hips and pushes him all the way, releasing into you. It's such a warm sensation, filling you up to the brim.You both stay like that for a few moments, catching your breathes. He pulls out, his cum leaking out of you.

"Holy shit," You say in unison. Cal chuckles, reaching for his towel that is on a nearby chair.

"Here, to clean up." He throws the towel onto your exposed behind. You blush, cleaning up yourself as you sit up on the towel, just in case. You cover yourself with his blanket, a sudden chill running all over you. Cal slips his boxers on from a nearby dresser and sits down beside you.

"I never thought we'd do that," You state, leaning into him. He happily wraps his arms around you.

"I'm glad we did, because wow. Jedi's are really missing out." This causing a laugh to escape you, causing him to also chuckle. You start to stand, but Cal holds you down.

"Stay tonight?" He asks, motioning to the pillows. He smiles warmly, and how could you say no? You return the smile, shuffling yourselves under the blankets and heads on pillows. He lays on his back as you cuddle up onto his chest, wrapping your arm around his torso. His arm lounges behind and around your back, rubbing it up and down.

"Well, we can do that as much as you want," You giggle, cuddling into him more.

"I'd like that, but also the cute romantic stuff." He chuckles, leaning down to kiss your head.

"Maybe a date?"

"I like the sound of that, in the morning?"

"Oh, let's go to the bakery down the street, I heard the have wonderful food." You smile, your eyelids feeling heavy.

"It's a date, goodnight (Y/N)." Cal whispers, closing his eyes. You hum back, already falling asleep. The smile never leaves your faces, even as you dream of what the future could hold for you two.

#cal kestis #cal kestis jedi survivor #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x y/n #cal kestis x you #jedi survivor #reader insert #star wars #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi survivor #star wars x reader #star wars x y/n #star wars x you #y/n #smut

[weirdworldofwinnie]

Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part Five: Party

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader NSFW 18+ only

Summary: The Oppenheimers' host a party at the house and Robert is as crowd pleasing as usual, especially with the ladies, while you find yourself doubting the relationship and in the midst of a sudden surprising rumor going around.

Word Count: ~4,548

Warnings: Age gap, period stereotypical gender roles, slight infidelity and talk of, gossip, martial angst

Usual disclaimers apply, obviously NOT based on complete real life historical accuracy, i.e. characters such as the Thompsons are made-up and as a whole, this fic is essentially very much a dramatization and AU fantasy/fiction with Cillian as Oppenheimer, Josh Hartnett as Ernest Lawrence, etc.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Tag List: @forgottenpeakywriter, @frozenhuntress67, @immyowndefender, @szde8-blog, @bypurple, @irenethewoman, @uniquetacofun, @noirrose21-blog, @gridmouse86

If you'd like to be tagged, let me know.

May 1943

The yard was brightly awash in sunlight as you found yourself on your hands and knees digging in the garden plot, preparing to plant and transplanting a couple shrubs. You weren't above physical labor and it was nice to be productive outside of the house and in town; anything involving the earth directly was refreshing.

Life in Los Alamos had smoothed out into a sort of normal routine with Robert working and you studying while keeping house and babysitting the Thompson children multiple times a week. It was a bit isolating day-to-day, but you didn't mind much considering how important this venture was and there was less pressure on your end at least once everyone was settled. Since the kitchen had been remodeled, tonight would be the largest gathering at the house since Robert's 39th birthday bash last month (which marked the occasion by a fine meal of steak and asparagus for dinner and a large cake, lit with an array of candles and nearly everyone in attendance wore shiny party hats). For this evening, the scientists and their significant others were just looking to converse but more importantly relax and have a fun time, so you made sure everything was set and enough drinks were to be served with Robert having shown you how to prepare one of his dry martinis correctly, which you'd be serving to the guests.

At six o'clock, the Thompsons arrived first with their two boys and you led them inside. Little Duncan immediately spotted the batch of sugar cookies you had baked earlier on a whim.

"Cookies!" he yelled, racing to the plate on the coffee table and hungrily grabbing at several with his chubby hands, causing his mother to chastise him with a shocked scold.

"Manners, please!"

But in his excitement, the plate went crashing to the floor and you cringed, quickly bending down to clean up the cracked halves and cookie crumbs scattered onto the rug. Thankfully you had no shortage of serving plates, used to the occasional broken dishware by now.

"No, no, it's okay," you assured the toddler as his bottom lip wobbled and you handed him a cookie which he gobbled up guiltily.

"Duncan, what do you say?" Mrs. Thompson asked sharply.

"Tank you," he mumbled around the mouthful and you smiled, swiftly chucking the plate into the trash.

"I'm so sorry, he can be very careless often," she apologized, but you waved a hand dismissively.

"It's alright. He might as well take the rest since it's likely they will go stale before I alone have the chance to eat them all."

"Doesn't Robert enjoy your baking?"

"Oh, he doesn't really eat and he isn't as fond of any dessert without chocolate in it."

"He still hasn't been eating much?" she asked out of mild concern.

"Well, always rather minimally. He only has a real meal if it's a special occasion or I coherence him to... He usually just has his morning coffee and toast, maybe an orange. I like to think he is just too preoccupied with life and work to consider the normal consumption of food. He's just mentally too full."

"That is still peculiar, though. Good for you to put up with it, heaven knows how annoyed I would get if I cooked and baked all day and my husband ate a measley fraction with hardly any appreciation."

"No, he is grateful about it," you corrected, but she raised a skeptical brow and then you were distracted by more guests arriving.

Once night fully fell, you took up precedence in the kitchen at the counter making drinks and assuring there was enough martinis and appetizers to go around. From the sounds of it, the atmosphere was getting a bit rowdy out in the main party area of the living room: music resounding from the record player, Richard Feynman banging on his bongos, and the sound of shoes dancing the fox trot.

"I see Oppie has put you on drink duty tonight."

You turned to see Dr. Ernest Lawrence standing a few feet away with his signature smirk and you smiled, gesturing with a glass to his direction.

"What, you actually want one?" you teased a bit sarcastically and he winked, the room lights glinting off his round glasses.

"You bet." He accepted the cold drink and took a sip, nodding in approval.

"Never had a better martini," he praised and you took a sip of your own, swirling the strong flavor on your tongue as he leaned against the counter, causally observing about how it was a good turnout.

"It's nearly as many that came for his birthday," you agreed with a nod.

"It's nice to be able to get out of the work atmosphere of the laboratory for a hot minute and relax," he commented.

"I bet. Robert's not giving you too much grief over there, is he?"

"No, just the usual frustrations that I can't talk about, pardon it. You could partly guess it though; it started with my Rad Lab, the unionizing and differential ideas... But I will say as much as we respect each other, Oppie needs to not act so much like a Communist sometimes; it's detrimental to all of us and especially him, the damn brilliant fool," Lawrence said rather bitterly and you raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean by that oxymoron?"

He shook his head of whatever thoughts he had and finished his drink too hastily, giving you back the nearly empty glass. His fingers brushed your hand for a few seconds, causing both his and your wedding rings to briefly clink together, before he pulled away and smiled again.

"Thanks for the drink, Y/N." He walked out of the kitchen and absorbed into the wider huddles of people in the lounge as you looked on curiously.

About an hour later, you took a break from the kitchen to go converse with a few lady friends and couldn't help but notice Robert seated comfortably on the sofa, bumping knees by being sandwiched in-between his close friend Dr. Ruth Tolman and her husband Richard. She was blonde and attractive, whip smart, and currently listening intently and hanging onto every word and expression he made while conversing and you felt a small prick of unexpected... envy? You knew Ruth personally and she was a pleasant intelligent woman in a challenging field, which made Robert deeply respect her, but it also reminded you of the comparisons and why he admired her. She was significantly older than you (and even had ten years on him) and was trailblazing in her occupation while you were struggling through obtaining a nursing degree despite being plunked down in the middle of government sanctioned nowhere and shoehorned into housekeeping and hosting. You clenched the drink in your hand, nails driving into the glass as you watched them, distracted from your conversation with the ladies, and Robert was animatedly explaining something as she leaned closer, a tinkle of laughter reaching your ears. You excused yourself from the gaggle of women and drifted closer while trying to remain somewhat inconspicuous and watching carefully as he focused intently on her, completely oblivious of you standing no more than eight feet away.

"The damn brilliant fool."

Maybe Lawrence was right? You weren't sure why you were feeling so protectively paranoid all of a sudden. It had to be nothing, but you still felt a tiny smidge of annoyance seeing how much she was clearly enjoying Robert's presence tonight and vice versa (given a few drinks of course) but many women in general were not immune to his strange charm, so it was to be expected. Hell, they had been positively fawning over him at his birthday last month and many in town marveled at his leadership, gentlemanly qualities, and magnetic charisma despite his eccentricities and intimating intellect.

Robert could talk for hours about nearly any academical subject, philosophy, Greek mythology, politics and ideologies (although that was a bit stamped out here due to the secrecy and military oversight), religion, science obviously, any personal matters and interests (except sports), and basically anything that warranted an opinion. And people always listened, no matter if they had precise knowledge in the subjects or not, and the appeal was undeniable to most women you knew, heterosexual or not. He was something special, that was for sure, and you were afraid Ruth might be taking advantage of this as she placed a manicured hand softly on his knee, laughing with him.

You retreated back somewhat to avoid awkwardness in case either him or her noticed you staring (which they never did) and considered checking up on the state of the kitchen, when four-year-old Douglas came excitedly running over, weaving between the legs of the adults.

"Mrs. Oppen-hemmer, come look at what I found!" He abruptly took your hand and pulled you away to the front door and outside into the front yard, plunking himself down on the rock pathway. The glowing yellow lights from the windows and house made shadows cast across the ground in eerie splinters and dark patches on the ground.

"What is it?" you asked, squinting in the dimness to see exactly what he was so invested in and he poked at a black bulbous miniscule shape lodged in the space between the slabs.

"Oh, it's just an arthropod. A common ground beetle, I believe," you told him, disguising disgust as he kept poking at it with interest until you gently batted his fingers away.

"Don't bother it too much," you told him and he sighed, rolling onto his side and staring in fascination that was lost on you, but whatever humored him was fine.

You went to take a seat on the front step, listening to the bubble of conversation, music, and glasses clinking inside the house as you absentmindedly watched the little boy, ruminating on a few past snippets of conversation you remembered having with friends and family, who were commenting critically at the time on your rather fast relationship with Robert before you practically eloped.

"You're making a mistake with a premature marriage, you need to prioritize your education first, a man second."

"Well, didn't you pick one of the highest hung fruit of the land. Dr. Oppenheimer, I must say! You make the rest of us seem subpar."

"But Jean and him make such a impassionate, powerful couple. He calls her his truest love and has proposed marriage to her before you, so he'll only be settling for you if you accept him, don't forget that."

"Sweetheart, listen to me. You know I love you and will accept whomever you choose, but think about this dearly before you exchange vows. A physicist, this older man's a physicist. What on earth are you going to have in common with a scientific genius like that? He'll support the hell out of you with his teaching, I understand, and I like that he's a wealthy born New Yorker, but... and I say this with love - love - you're just not perhaps up to such standards? I want the best for ya honey, I do, but you couldn't match with, say, a businessman instead? Someone who doesn't have his brains up in the high clouds, all this theoretical talk of dark matter and black holes... Do you even understand any of that? You have as much in common with his interests as the moon and he'll never have use for you intellectually, only fundamentally. My daughter's not Marie Curie, forgive me."

That last one had been from your father and you had been personally affronted, insisting angrily that it didn't matter, for Robert didn't only love scientists with very high IQ scores, for goodness's sake.

"Father, he doesn't need me for his fill of physics, he has many outlets and he's not only a man of science; he so dearly loves poetry, art, classical music, equestrians, global and national history, Hinduism - he can read Sanskrit for God's sake! - and any matter of politics..."

"He's too good for you, sweetheart. That man has more knowledge than an encyclopedia, you'd need an index just for reference in his causal conversations. Now, come home back east if this whole college venture doesn't pan out in California... Remember the Paulson's? Jack has a son who just turned twenty and is majoring in finance, he'd love to meet ya, someone closer in age and caliber."

"But I'm not into finance, I'm pursuing medicine and psychology."

"You'd just be a quack in that field, I'm telling you. Follow the market money, not dilly-dallying in dating theoretical physicists and Freudian psychiatry. You need a man who knows his numbers in a practical sense, who will make a stable husband and you a nice homemaker. You're my only child, so I'll be awaiting grandchildren."

It was safe to say your father could be a bit... pushy and simple-minded. You hated the way you were easily boxed in, setting up your life already yet scoffing at when it was too good. You weren't a chemist nor would you be a bank teller (besides, your father was only so fixated on that because he almost lost his entire fortune due to the Great Depression) and yet being only a housewife seemed to be selling yourself short. Since the war began, you saw the need for help in the medical field and if psychiatry wouldn't have you, then you could at least become a nurse with the hopes of eventually excelling to physician with extra schooling. But of course, Robert had obtained his doctorate years ago and his younger ex-girlfriend Jean had graduated from Stanford recently while you were stuck here.

"He's too good for you, sweetheart."

You swallowed, beginning to wonder if that was possibly coming true... Did he only keep you around for the sex, usefulness in the home and kitchen, and for probable inevitable breeding of children? He didn't truly respect you, did he? Were you just an arm piece, the beautiful secure wife to come home to after he, the theoretical celebrity, saved the world? If you had none of those aforementioned qualities and were a "mere, plain waitress" like he would say about his brother's fiancée, Jackie, would he discard you as quickly as last week's newspaper?

Were you only a lovely wife and nothing more?

"We can't all be the spirited intellectual fancy Communist Miss Tatlock," you mumbled unhappily to yourself, hardly noticing that Douglas had come over and was standing in front of you, leaning his body from side to side as he stared at you.

"Okay?" he asked and you blinked, wiping your face quickly to hide the blatant emotion. You hadn't even realized you'd been shedding tears.

"Oh, yes, I'm okay."

He held up his hand gently curled into a fist with his thumb up and wiggled it around.

"I do this when Momma sees me fall, but I'm not hurt. Thumb means okay!" he explained proudly and you laughed, making your own 'thumbs up' and he giggled, bumping his knuckles to yours and making a goofy face, to which you did back, making him giggle in turn.

"Can we play a game?"

"What do want to play?" you asked and he scrunched up his face before exclaiming.

"Hopscotch!"

"Oh, but we don't have the sidewalk chalk for that and besides, it's too dark," you tried to tell him, but he had already made up his mind.

"Lemme go get Dunky and we can play together!" he proclaimed, using the nickname for his little brother and he dashed into the house, coming out a moment later with Duncan in tow behind him.

The boys however proved chalk wasn't necessary and rather only their imaginations as they used the pathway, tossing a rock, jumping, and counting happily. Douglas led the game, his brother following and inadvertently copying his footsteps, and when they insisted for you to join in, you considered the fact that you were in one of your best dresses and worried to be seen as too silly.

"C'mon!" Douglas shouted, doing a gregarious hop a few feet forward, nearly stumbling over his own shoes, and you hoped he wouldn't injure himself and make you liable. You glanced down at your high heels and shrugged.

Oh, screw it.

You removed them and carefully joined the boys all the same, doing a bit of hopscotch until you bored of it and sat back down, slipping your mildly sore feet back into the heels, and were amused at their energetic antics.

"Want to adopt them? I'll ask," Robert's lightly sarcastic voice made you startle and you glanced over your shoulder as he came out of the house and took a seat down beside you.

"I'm kidding," he smiled and you waved a hand fondly over at them.

"They're good boys," you stated as he looked on, sighing wistfully.

"They still haven't felt the sharp sting of the world's cruelty yet nor were they born cruel," he observed.

"I sure hope they never become like that, although as long as we are at war, who is to say?" you replied quietly and he looked at you fondly.

"You're good with them, they trust and like you quite a lot," he remarked, gesturing to the kids with his martini glass.

"I suppose we have formed a fast kinship somehow and I do my best," you replied humbly.

"I can tell. The Thompsons will be leaving soon, why don't you call them in? I believe it is way past bedtime for the young ones."

"Boys?" you called, gesturing and after a moment, they came hurrying up.

"How about you find your mother, okay? I think it's time to go home for bed," you told them and they whined a bit, insisting they weren't tired.

"You don't want to get in trouble, do you?" Robert asked sternly.

"Nuh-uh," Duncan replied, sticking his bottom lip out and Robert patted him on the back, sending them inside and as soon as they left and you and Robert bid goodnight to their parents, he went back outside and sat down in one of the chairs in the yard and you joined, breathing in the smoke from his tobacco pipe. You wondered why he was out here instead of being at the center of the party inside, it was unlike him.

He glanced to you, wary, and the question that came out his mouth next caught you unprepared.

"Have you ever considered having an affair on me?"

You stared at him, any emotional warmth evaporating in the cool night air.

"God, no, what? Robert, you know I have always maintained I'm not interested in other men. Why... Has someone said something?"

"There's a fresh rumor going around that you have a mutual interest in Ernest Lawrence; I heard from one of the women back in there declare that you were clearly flirting with him in the kitchen over a drink."

"A rumor? That's just a bold faced lie! I wasn't flirting in the slightest, we were merely having a plain conversation!" you exclaimed, standing up but his hand caught your waist, gripping at your dress and you sat, glaring and breathing heavily. How dare she... You had a hunch it was the same wife from the first week here who was snarky to you when you were doing the laundry.

"It was just a passing comment, nothing to get worked up over," he quickly backpedaled as you grew visibly angry.

"But that could spread like wildfire in this bunch. I have to speak to that wretched woman!"

"I already told her and those around us that it was utter absurdity. You barely even interact with Ernest causally and I've never picked up romantic inclinations between the two of you," he assured, but you shook your head in disbelief.

"I just can't believe this blasphemy!"

"I couldn't either, which is why I came to you to confirm," he replied.

"I'm glad you did. I would never think of flirting with a married man and all I did was give him one drink as a hostess in our own house. Does he know about this?"

"I spoke to him just before I came out here. He's a bit punchy from the martinis, so he laughed for a minute straight at that accusation, and then when I asked him if he personally considered you to be a pretty woman, he told me that I am a 'pretty man'," Robert answered, uncertain of the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth and you stifled a laugh.

"I see. Well, he's not wrong there, you are dashing."

"Thank you," he murmured and you checked your watch, noticing it was getting late and the guests were beginning to leave. Robert noticed your restlessness and placed a cautioning hand on your arm, squeezing comfortingly.

"Let's avoid confrontation. You just wait here until they're gone," he advised and you pursed your lips, but let him go be the one to bid goodnight and usher everyone out.

After several minutes of watching small groups of friends, acquaintances, and pairs of couples exit down the path to the road one by one, you finally stood and walked back into the house, forcing a smile at a few stranglers left - Robert's men - filing out and helping a couple up from the table as they could barely stand up and walk, having had one martini too many. As you turned around in the hallway, none other than Ernest Lawrence himself bumped into you seemingly out of nowhere and he looked decidedly drunker than you'd ever seen him.

"Excuse me," you muttered, starting to duck around him when he grabbed your wrist and leaned down so swiftly to lock lips, his glasses banging into your face as he smashed onto your mouth with surprising force. You instinctively shoved him back, blinking in shock as he stumbled slightly and steadied himself with a hand on the wall.

"Fuck, get away from me!" you hissed in shock.

His eyes were a bit glazed and he shook his head, wiping his mouth sloppily of your lipstick with the back of his hand.

"No wonder Oppie married you straightaway, the girl can serve a mean martini and a decent mouth-to-mouth," he muttered.

"I'll take that as a compliment, now get the hell out of our house," you ordered, pushing his broad back towards the front door and he didn't resist.

"It's Oppie's world... you and I are just living in it," Lawrence grumbled as you shoved him out, slamming the door, and feeling grateful that his wife had already left with others.

You went quickly to the bathroom and rinsed out your mouth and smeared off the ruby lipstick. You thoroughly washed your face over and over with cold water, frowning when you glanced up with your mascara running and saw Robert's shadow in the mirror behind you.

"I feel as though I've been set up. Your best pal Lawrence just stole a kiss before he left, I thought you'd like to know!" you exclaimed loudly as you wiped your face of makeup with a cloth and he made a noncommittal gesture.

"He was drunk, forgive him."

"You're not upset with this whole nonsense?"

"He never would have done it otherwise if he wasn't under the influence, that's the loosest he gets and frankly I think it's good for him to step outside his stiffer cautionary boundaries. But I'll speak about it to him tomorrow if he even recalls. You have nothing to worry about unless you happen to fancy him, then we do have a problem to fix."

"No, I do not find him as fetching as you. Quite honestly, I'm tired of tonight and wish to go to bed. Goodnight, Robert." You dried your face and brushed past him to change out of your formal dress wear and he stood, watching.

"It feels different when it's the opposite sex, doesn't it?" he inquired in a passive aggressive tone and you snapped, throwing your heels into the closet harder than necessary.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, when it's me and Jean or me and Kitty or-"

"Don't bring up those other women to me, you'll regret it. Please shut up and come to bed when you're ready," you ordered grumpily and slipped into bed in just your bra and panties, covering your body with the sheets and rolling over so you didn't have to see him. You were tempted to ask about Ruth, but that potential fuel for an argument would have to be saved for another day and besides, she was just a long time friend. She never had spoken a bad word about you and was always so supportive to Robert... Perhaps it was only the alcohol that had infected everyone's judgement tonight.

You thought uncomfortably about Ernest's warm drunken mouth suctioning onto yours and you glanced over your shoulder at Robert removing his shoes and relaxing back on the bed, striking up a cigarette and sighing when a terribly naughty thought came to you. What if you stirred up expectations and purposely fed into this "rumor" (or perhaps actual one-sided attraction on his part, you weren't so sure now) just to unnerve Oppie, give him a taste of his own medicine? You had lied a bit earlier about not being interested in other men, of course you glanced at times when someone caught your attraction, but you never actively sought them out and certainly not Lawrence. He wasn't half bad looking, but the idea of provoking this further was tempting yet you knew it was impossible without consequences and you hated to offend his wife. People would find out and you'd be painted in a bad outlook, and you certainly did not wish to be the adulteress of Los Alamos, flirting and hooking up with every male scientist who so as looked at you. Of course, when a man cheated, it was typically not completely condemning of his character, whereas a woman would be splashed with a bold scarlet letter on her chest for the rest of her life. Of course, you wouldn't even be having these thoughts if Robert hadn't said anything and Lawrence hadn't done what he did.

You felt a sudden tug on the sheets and gritted your teeth, yanking them back from your husband who was trying to get comfortable beside you.

"I hope you're not cold," you remarked snappily and he huffed, rolling over very close despite your standoffish attitude and he was likely quite drunk, although he was never one to show it obnoxiously since he took alcohol unusually well.

"I'm not the one lying here nearly naked. Our nights have been so dry, even Sundays, and you know I'll have less and less time the farther we get along in the project. Have you considered we haven't had proper intimacy since my birthday?" he bemoaned.

You ignored that fact, mildly annoyed he apparently needed sex more than once a week and after this evening's events you were hardly in the mood without imagining Ernest's lips on yours.

So much for thinking everything was going well and undramatic... Couldn't even a simple get-together be decent and clean around this place? You supposed not.

#j robert oppenheimer x reader #oppenheimer au #ernest lawrence #ernest lawrence x reader #josh hartnett x reader #cillian murphy #oppenheimer x reader #oppenheimer 2023 #oppenheimer fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x reader #j robert oppenheimer x you #oppie #cillain murphy #oppenheimer smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy smut #robert oppenheimer x y/n #oppenheimer film #oppenheimer x y/n #part of a series #part 5 #don't like don't interact #don't like don't read #my writing #winnie's writing

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

sooooooooooo for the NRC family day interactions, i'm curious to see what would happen if riddle and step-dad ashengrotto met in the wild, because riddle has expressed that recently he's gotten interested in law. it would b cool for him to chat with the canon lawyer who taught azul about laws n contracts.

plus the whole, riddle being unsure actually because his whole life his parents had plans for him and planned for him on becoming a healer like them, but now he's interested in something else. n while i kno he reads about law, it would give him a lot of insight to actually, speak to someone who does this for a living, who maybe even suggests ideas of finding a way to combine both medicine and law, like medical law (branch of law) or medical jurisprudence (branch of medicine).

and other stuff too.

idk i just think a conversation between the two could be interesting, even outside of like, riddle's own interest in law; like another interesting thing would b his whole, family/homelife situation & the fact that riddle hints that his parents don't really get along that well + knowing that step-dad ashengrotto met mama ashengrotto while she was filing for divorce... just lots of ideas in me brain i think.

idk hopefully this isn't unintelligible sdfjsdklfd thank youuuuuuu

Thank you for submitting this really interesting idea ^^ This one is really long compared to the others, so I slapped a cut in to make scrolling by easier. This fic borrows ideas from a theory that I talked about a few days ago?

I don't know if I've ever mentioned this before, but I think it's cool that Azul not only has a stepdad, but actually gets along with him. Rarely do I see divorce portrayed as a positive thing (I mean, how often do we see wicked stepparents or a child that refuses to accept the stepparent), so Azul's family was really refreshing to see.

Not me taking inspiration from the divorce lawyer in Enchanted and various characters from Ace Attorney for stepdaddy Ashengrotto—

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

The cafeteria was packed, and the ghost chefs were working overtime to feed the influx of hungry guests. Staff, students, and their family members had been coming in and out throughout the day, leaving not many tables open and the food line long. Some had taken to sitting cross-legged on the floor or spilling out into the hallway to make space for new arrivals.

One look at the gaggle of people along the walls and on the ground, and Mrs. Rosehearts had turned up her nose. "I won't have you sitting like a barbarian, Riddle. We'll find you a proper seat. Look, there’s one now. You sit—I’ll see what they have available on the menu and fetch you an appropriate meal.”

“Yes, mother.”

Riddle shifted uncomfortably at a cramped table. He dared not falter in his posture. Back straight, head high, hands neatly folded in his lap. He was a rose among those deemed the weeds called riffraff.

… It’s noisy, Riddle noted.

Indeed, it was. The cafeteria buzzed with activity, students exchanging chatter and laughter with their loved ones. Sharing bites of food and stories, nourishing their bellies and their souls.

A memory clad in flowers filled his mind.

“Riddle!”

He was back in the Heartslabyul gardens, colorful decorations and card soldiers in every direction. Flamingos and hedgehogs at the ready, the roses painted red, a dormouse in the tea pot. Cakes, tarts, and finger sandwiches sliced up and served with tea.

Ace and Deuce were arguing over something silly again. By the sumptuous spread of snacks, Cater was snagging pictures before so much as a bite. In the memory, Riddle made to tell them off, only to be stopped by the vice dorm leader at his side.

“They have so much energy,” Trey had remarked. “It’s livelier than usual today.”

Yes, that was the right word for it. Not noisy, but lively.

How curious that dining at Night Raven College is like this. At home…

There was a lone platter set for him, a sad, limp little square of food in the center. His mother, arms folded, to the right. His father, trembling in his chair, to the lift. Raised voices and scathing remarks.

Some days the dining room was empty altogether, save for himself and stacks of textbooks. When he did crossword puzzles and sudoku, the vocabulary and the numbers kept him company.

His heart twinged. Riddle frowned and curled a hand over his chest, as if trying to soothe the pain.

What is this? Why… do I feel this way?

"Excuse me, young man."

He jolted upright.

An older gentleman in glasses was beside him. His hair, peppered with streaks of white, was neat, and he was dressed in an even neater suit. He smelled like salt wrapped in a sea breeze, faint citrus and sunshine.

The stranger gestured to the spot beside Riddle. “Pardon me if I disturbed your train of thought. I wanted to ask if this seat was taken. I need a quick place to rest my legs, then I’ll be out of your way.”

Riddle took a quick glance at the line—which still snaked around the room, but at least his mother had vanished from view. Relief. “It’s open. Please, sit.”

“Thank you.” The man slipped in next to Riddle. He sighed, just as relieved as the boy was. “Much appreciated. I hope I’m not stealing this seat from one of your parents.”

“Not to worry, sir. Only my mother is with me today, and it seems like it will be quite a while before she returns," Riddle reassured him. “My father is preoccupied with work, so he was unable to attend."

It was partially true. Whenever possible, his parents actively avoided each other. Strategically taking specific hospital shifts just so happened to be a means to that end.

"I'm here with my wife and son myself, they're perusing the food. A shame about your father. Really. Perhaps he'll be able to attend next year."

"Perhaps."

Riddle hoped not.

He looked away, dodging the man's eyes. Fearing that his own would betray him.

A glint of gold snagged his sight, and Riddle's heart leapt. Pinned to the stranger's lapel was a small pin depicting the scales of justice.

The man took notice. "I see you've spotted my bar association badge."

"You're a lawyer, sir?" Riddle's question came out small.

"That's right." He tilted his head to one side. His smile was slight, yet encouraging. "Might you have an interest in law, young man?"

"Ah, well..." Riddle instinctively looked to the line again before his gaze darted back to his conversational partner. "Y-Yes, I suppose you could say that. However, I'm aware that it is a big commitment, and I have already resolved to pursue magical medicine."

"A career like that can be fulfilling as well," the man said kindly. "I have colleagues that specialize in medical malpractice and negligence. We also sometimes work with forensic scientists for certain cases.

"There is most certainly crossover between the legal and healthcare sectors. You could consider looking into those fields as a middle ground between your two interests."

Riddle blinked.

"Did I overstep my bounds?"

"No, I just..." Hesitation. "I'm not used to speaking like this."

"About your future?"

No, Riddle wanted to correct him, it's being given advice and suggestions, rather than expectations and orders.

"About straying from the path," he said, a quick half-truth. "It's difficult to compromise, even if the options exist out there."

"Hmm." The man nodded understandingly. "Changing course can be scary, yes. I don't fault you for thinking that way. If it would help in any way, you are free to ask me questions about my own experience. I'm no medical lawyer, but hearing it from the horse's mouth has helped some of my clients before."

"You would offer such a thing...?"

The man's eyes shone with the trace of a contained laugh. "I don't charge for the first consultation," he joked.

"Then..." Hope crept into Riddle's voice. "Could you tell me about your own specialization?"

"My firm mainly deals with cases of divorce."

Divorce.

The word was bitter on Riddle's tongue as he swallowed it. But the lawyer spoke it with such ease, like it was nothing more than the weather forecast for the day.

Divorce, divorce.

It had always been an option for Riddle's parents since the first problems had started between them, but never seriously considered, never discussed. His mother would sooner die than confess she was anything but right, that she had made the mistake of choosing the wrong man. And what would the community think? What would they say?

As a child most foolish, Riddle had prayed to the Queen of Hearts to share her secret to a successful marriage. No answer ever came, and it was then that he realized: divorce was never in the cards for his parents.

The man carefully took in Riddle's frozen expression. "It happens. I see it a lot in my line of work—and it is one hundred percent normal. People are like castles in the sand, you see. They change, their feelings change. They fall out of love. Part of my job is to ensure that the separation occurs smoothly.

"There is stigma attached to the concept of divorce, that it ruins families and brings them great shame. But sometimes a family is better apart than together, and they can find new happiness once they've picked up the pieces. Cutting ties can be the most liberating feeling in the entire world.

"I speak from experience myself. I met a lovely, bright-minded woman while she was going through her own divorce proceedings. Now that woman is my wife, and her son, my own."

Riddle's brows knitted. Disbelief and confusion crowned his features. "It almost sounds like a fairy tale. Can such a drastic change truly lead to happiness?"

"For me, it did. It may not be the case for you, because you and I are different people."

"Th-Then tell me!!" Riddle stood, slamming his hands on the table. Food and silverware rattled, people stared. He didn't care, his volume spiking. "How? How do I do that...? Please tell me. I don't... I don't know how to do it myself."

"That, I cannot say."

"Why not?! You... You said you would help me!"

"I did say that, didn't I? I said I would help you by talking about my own experiences. Tricky thing, wording. It's easy to overlook the fine print." The man pointed at him. "The rest is in your hands."

"I can't do a single thing," Riddle protested. It felt like roses were choking him. "My hands are tied. My path was determined a long time ago. Change is absolutely unacceptable."

The lawyer regarded him coolly. "Let me tell you something, young man. The law is the law because there is a human element to it, no matter how impartial, how black and white, we try to be. We write the laws, act on them, and interpret them. Likewise, you, too, are responsible for that interpretation.

"What is right, what is wrong, and what role you must play therein... these are things you alone determine, whether that be in career, in love, or in life. You are your own judge, and the decider of your own destiny. It is something only you are capable of, and no one else but you."

Riddle reeled his head, reacting as though he'd just been decked.

Right and wrong... The role I must play... Something only I can do?

Someone had told him something similar not too long ago. The words harsher then, and paired with a sound punch to the face.

"Is that all you are?!" Ace had demanded, fist clenched, still raw from making contact with his dorm leader's cheek. "An extension of your mom? Can't you think for yourself?"

The twinge to his chest had returned. Stronger, sharper. Like thorns tearing into his skin.

"... I see," Riddle said slowly. "I think I understand it a little better now."

"I'm glad to hear it." The man's smile broadened. He looked at something beyond Riddle, then rose from his seat. "Well, if you'll excuse me... It seems my family has finished their business. We should get going now."

"Of course. Thank you very much for speaking with me, sir." He humbly lowered his head to the man,

A voice came from behind the redhead. "Oya, what a surprise. If it isn't Riddle-san."

He immediately bolted up in horror. The dorm leader of Octavinelle stood before him, lips cocked into a smirk. A woman with the same silvery hair was next to him, cut in a sleek black gown and with seashells in her jewelry.

"Wha--?! Azul...?! What are you..." Riddle faltered with both his words and his calm.

"Oh? Is it a crime to come collect one's stepfather?" The merman sighed dramatically. "I was going to come over sooner, you know—but it looked as though you two were having quite the engaging conversation. I thought it rude to interrupt and cut it short."

Riddle's head whipped back to the lawyer. "Th-This is your stepfather?!"

"Azul, I didn't realize this lad was your friend. We were just having a nice talk about career goals."

"Career goals, you say? My, that sounds so interesting." There was something unsavory, slimy even, about the way Azul emphasized his interest. "I'm jealous, Riddle-san. We've shared our dreams with one another before, but never on such an intimate level."

"And just who in their right mind do you think would willingly divulge that information to you? Don't act as though we're friends."

Azul smiled wryly. "Aren't we? After all, we've been through both hell and high water together."

"It sounds to me like you boys are good chums," Mr. Ashengrotto remarked, exchanging raised eyebrows with his wife, "though you certainly have a strange way of showing it."

"Why haven't you told us about him, Azul?" his mother asked. "I'd love to have him over for dinner."

"Riddle-san can be surprisingly shy. I wouldn't wish to cast a spotlight on him."

"Who's shy here?! All you've been doing since you showed up is put me on the spot!"

Mrs. Ashengrotto put a hand over her mouth, stifling a chuckle. “If you visit us, Azul could invite his other friends—do you know them? The Leech twins. You could all get to know each other, and that could help you get out of your shell.”

“N-No thank you, ma’am!!” Riddle said (perhaps a little too loudly, and too quickly). The farther away I stay from those sketchy brothers, the better!! I wouldn’t be caught dead trying to cozy up to them!

“No? Maybe another time then. The offer is always there. Come to us when you're comfortable with it, dear.

"I guarantee you won't regret it," Mr. Ashengrotto chimed in. "She makes the best food I've ever had under the sea. Azul could pack away an entire bucket of her fried..."

Azul loudly cleared his throat. "While this chat has been amusing, I believe it's time we stopped hounding the poor, unfortunate soul and moved to the next item on our itinerary. I'm sure that Riddle-san is busy with his own matters as well."

"Yes, my mother will be back soon with lunch."

"That so? We'll be on our way then. Wouldn't want to disrupt your time together." Mr. Ashengrotto tenderly squeezed his wife's arm. His other hand found its way onto Azul's shoulder. "Have a happy Family Day, Riddle."

"Happy family day to you too."

With that, Azul and his parents departed. Their mouths moved, their expressions changed, playing off of one another. Saying things Riddle couldn't hear, nor understand even if he could hear.

The rose-red ruler, entrenched in a sea of people, was left with many thoughts racing through his head. Those gathered in the cafeteria, Heartslabyul, the Ashengrottos...

One question lingered like the last vestiges of sunlight on a lazy summer day.

Are these... what families are meant to be like?

#Riddle Rosehearts #Azul Ashengrotto #twst #twisted wonderland #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #NRC Family Day #disney twisted wonderland #Trey Clover #Ace Trappola #Cater Diamond #Deuce Spade #Heartslabyul #beyond the looking glass

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Oddball reader is so perfect like I need more

Bruce glanced down at his phone and smiled a little. He'd spent quite a while hunting for that specific book. And he was pleased- beyond pleased, really that he could get it into your eager hands.

He could still see your eyes shining in the street lights. Like new coins reflecting in the yellow pools of light as you painted pictures. Tracing a road map for him of the wonderous and the strange. It didn't matter if it was real. It didn't matter that your beloved Alchemists had been supplanted with newer, better science.

It was a good story. And he could feel it. Your voice drawing the threads of the past close around him. And as he just let it wash over him, watching your face, he decided he'd find a way to take you anywhere you wanted to go- or show up where you happened it be. As long as it meant doing this again.

He'd love to hear more. About anything. Everything.

"Sir?"

"Yes Alfred?" Bruce said, looking up from responding to your 'thank you' text- pondering what he wanted to say. How to convey interest without sounding creepy.

"The other book you ordered has arrived."

"Excellent," Bruce said, "If you could-"

"I have it here, sir," Alfred said glancing at the cover. "A new case or-"

"I met the Author recently," Bruce said, cheeks darkening. "She helped us piece together the map during that last nonsense."

"Ah yes," Alfred said, "That friend of Mr. Kent's, was it?"

"Yes-"

"She seemed lovely," Alfred said neutrally, "if a bit- odd."

"Odd?"

"Well yes, all this business with Alchemists is a bit... strange-"

"Her best friend is a space Alien and she now personally knows an Amazon, and a vigilante with a child sidekick."

"Fair enough," Alfred allowed, "I suppose she would have a rather more-elastic view on reality."

"Most of her interest is academic," Bruce assured him.

"Ah," Alfred hummed, "So you secured two tickets to an event in Prague and personally flew her there for Academic reasons?"

"Alfred-" Bruce broke off cheeks darkening. "I also wanted to speak with-" The butler gave him a knowing look and his blush deepened. "It seemed like a good way to thank her for her help."

"And purchasing that book was?"

"A better way to thank her," Bruce said, smiling a little in spite of himself. He could still hear you lamenting how hard it was to find. He could still hear you practically salivating over how much you could learn... For no other reason than the joy of knowing something and it made him feel warm.

"Certainly," Alfred said, putting his new copy of one of your books down on the desk. He wasn't sure what Bruce was doing with you. But it was refreshing to see him trying to court a young lady with more than diamonds.

#Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne x reader #odd duck!reader #ask answered #minors dni

[storiesforallfandoms]

happy birthday ~ javi gutierrez;the unbearable weight of massive talent

word count: 2841

request?: no

description: in which she gets her husband the best birthday gift of his life: nic cage

pairing: javi gutierrez x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two, three)

It felt almost impossible to come up with a good gift for Javi. What do you get the man who has everything? Literally everything. Javi had more money than most people could ever dream of, and he used that money to buy whatever he wanted. It was infuriating. I could never think of good birthday gifts for him because whatever I could think of, he got it for himself.

There was one gift I could possibly get him that would blow his mind. It was a long shot, but if I could pull it off then I would be giving him the best gift he’d ever receive in his entire life.

“Gabriela, I need your help,” I said to her one morning just after Javi had left with Lucas. “I want to try and get Nic Cage to come make an appearance at Javi’s birthday party.”

Gabriela’s eyes widened. “That’s...a huge deal, (Y/N).”

“I know, and I know it’s a long shot because he’s a big actor who is probably very busy, but I know Javi would lose his mind if we could make this happen. I’ll do whatever it takes. However much money he wants, free accommodations at the mansion, I’ll even try to pay for whatever his passion project is to be made. Anything he wants.” I took Gabriela’s hands in mine. “Please, Gabriela. Javi would love this.”

She thought for a few moments before squeezing my hands. “I’ll look for the contact info for his agent online.”

Turns out, it’s not that hard to find Nic Cage’s agent’s contact info online. Actually, it was the first thing that popped up when we Googled “Nicolas Cage agent contact info”. We wrote his agent a lengthy email, basically begging for Nic Cage to come to Javi’s birthday party. I even threw in an offer of one million dollars just to show up to the party. We hit send, waiting with baited breath for a response.

Of course, I knew we wouldn’t get a response right away. But as the days passed and still nothing, my anxiety began to grow. I was constantly refreshing my email, hoping that a new email would arrive already. I was trying not to be too obvious, but Javi noticed that I was distracted very quickly.

“Is everything alright, mi amor?” he asked me one morning when I checked my phone during breakfast. It was very unlike me to be on my phone at the table, but I wasn’t thinking about anything besides getting a response to this damn email. “You seem...distracted.”

“I’m sorry, honey. It’s just...something I’m planning for your birthday.”

His eyes brightened. “For my birthday, you say? Any hints?”

I smiled and leaned in close to him. “Absolutely not.”

He playfully groaned, but closed the small gap between us to kiss me.

A week had passed by and I started to give up hope. I had let go of the idea when my phone chimed, signaling an incoming email. When I opened it I had to refrain from screaming with joy.

The email read, “Dear Mrs. Gutierrez. Mr. Cage has accepted your offer to appear at your event. Please provide us with the details as well as location and travel details.”

It was hard to contain my excitement around Javi. I didn’t want to give away the surprise, but every time I looked at him I kept thinking about how excited he was going to be when he saw the Nic Cage at his birthday party. It was going to be the hardest secret I ever had to keep.

The time flew by, luckily, and before I knew it, I was on my way to the dock to meet Nicolas Cage. I had assigned one person to pick up Nic in the boat to try and minimize the chances of Javi finding out about the surprise. Besids me, only two people knew: Gabriela and Oscar, one of Javi’s men who I had escort Nic to our home. I watched as the boat came closer and closer. I could see Oscar driving while an unfamiliar figure was slumped in the back of the boat.

Nic fucking Cage.

I tried to keep myself composed as the boat docked and Oscar helped Nic to unload his luggage. He was so tall. He was almost intimidating in person.

“Mr. Cage,” I said. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to pass up a gig that’s offering a million dollars just to show up,” he responded. “What’s the deal with this party, anyways? Because if the couple is expecting me to engage in some form of voyeurism, or something along those lines, they are going to be very disappointed.”

I was taken back by his suggestion. He was looking at me, waiting for a response, while I stood there looking like an idiot with my mouth hanging open.

“N-No,” I finally said. “It’s nothing like that. My husband is a huge fan of your work. I wanted to surprise him with an appearance from you for his birthday. You just have to be there, talk to him, share some stories from the sets of your movies maybe.”

His face went pale. “You...you’re Mrs. Gutierrez?”

“Yes, I am.”

He was left just as speechless as I felt. We looked at each other for a long time, an awkward feeling in the air. Finally, I gestured for him to follow me and Oscar to the car that was waiting to take us back to the house. I got into the front seat as Oscar loaded Nic’s luggage into the trunk as Nic got into the back seat.

The ride was silent for a while. I was still more nervous over the fact that I was in the same car as Nic Cage than I was upset over what Nic had said. But I could tell he was embarrassed. I just wasn’t sure how to put his mind as ease when I was too starstruck to string a sentence together.

“Listen,” he said, finally breaking the awkward silence. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. You have to understand that this was a bizarre request I got to come to a birthday party, for a large sum of money. I had no idea what to expect.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I understand. Honestly, I didn’t even think your agent would respond, so I didn’t plan out your appearance much until you said yes.”

“So, what is the plan?”

“The party isn’t until tomorrow evening, so we have the guest house set up for you to stay in. Gabriela, mine and Javi’s assistant, will come and get you, and usher you to the party without Javi noticing. I have a speech planned, that will be your entrance.”

Nic was nodding along as I spoke. When I finished, he said, “You must really love this Javi to go through so much effort for a birthday gift.”

I smiled. “Well, I married him for a reason.”

~~~~~~

The next night, I was stood in front of one of the full length mirrors in mine and Javi’s room. I had changed into the dress I had found on our bed that afternoon, with a note attached to it that said, “Wear this tonight, mi amor xo”.

Typical of Javi to buy me something to wear on his birthday.

I had to admit, Javi’s taste in dresses was always phenomenal. I had one closet dedicated to all the dresses he has bought me in the past. They had never been wore more than once, but they were too beautiful to let go of. This one was no different. It was a long, off the shoulder, velvet dress in a deep red color. I pulled a pair of champagne colored heels from the closet to wear with it, and a gold necklace Javi had gotten for me won our first anniversary.

Two arms wrapped around my waist as a head of curly brown hair buried itself against my neck.

“You look beautiful, mi amor,” Javi said as he pressed a light kiss on the nape of my neck.

“Thank you,” I said. “Helps that I seem to have a husband with the best fashion sense in the world.”

I turned my head to look up at him. He kissed my lips as I leaned back against him. His hands ran over the soft material of my dress, exploring my body as his tongue ran across my bottom lip.

“What if we ditch the party and stay up here so I can take this dress off of you instead?” he suggested.

I giggled. “Ditch your own birthday party?” He nodded and began kissing my neck again. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

I turned in his arms to look up at him. “Because there are nearly a hundred people down in our courtyard waiting to celebrate you. You can’t just ditch them.”

Javi groaned, burying his head in the crook of my neck. It felt nearly impossible to reject his offer when he was kissing me in the right spot, touching me in the right spots, and in general just looked so fucking handsome. I just wanted to let him take the dress off of me and do whatever he wanted to me.

But my mind drifted back to the special guest I had waiting to make an appearance, and that was enough for me to push Javi away.

“We can’t miss your party,” I told him. “Besides, I have an amazing present for you.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “One that requires us going to the party?” I nodded. “Well, now you’ve managed to convince me.”

I kissed his nose and took his hands in mine, pulling him out of our room and to the party that was kicking off down below.

We were met with cheers and a chorus of “Happy Birthday!”s. Lucas passed both of us a glass of champagne and made a quick toast in Javi’s honor. There was more cheering. I looked up to see Javi was positively glowing with happiness. I smiled at him, knowing that his gift was going to up this happiness even more.

I let Javi socialize for nearly an hour. Actually, it was hard to get him away from someone once he had started talking, but I figured it was his party so he deserved to talk to whoever he wanted for however long he wanted. But, the more time ticked on, the more anxious I grew. I didn’t want to interrupt his conversation, but I didn’t want to leave Nic waiting too long to make his entrance.

Luckily, Gabriela was the one to finally draw everyone’s attention as she got on stage and tapped a fork against her champagne glass. The crowd went silent and turned towards her.

“Ladies and gentlemen, before we continue with the festivities tonight, there was someone who wanted to say a few words in honor of the birthday boy,” she said. “Everybody, please give it up for (Y/N) Gutierrez.”

The crowd cheered as I made my way towards the stage. I put my arms out to Gabriela to pull her into a hug, and she whispered in my ear, “He’s ready.”

I mouthed “Thank you” to her as we pulled away before turning to the crowd of people who were looking at me.

“Hello everyone,” I started. “I don’t usually make a spectacle like this at Javi’s birthdays, but this year is different. For one, I believe that a man as incredible as Javi deserves the spectacle of his wife giving a super sappy speech about how much she loves him and how amazing he is. He deserves it, but that’s not the speech you’re getting tonight, so don’t hold your breath.” The audience chuckled. “Although, I will say that Javi is one of the most kindhearted men I have ever known. Getting to share my life with him has been the greatest privilege for me.”

I met Javi’s eyes in the crowd. He was smiling, admiration showing on his face. When I first started dating Javi, Lucas would say that Javi looked at me the way Disney princes looked at their princesses. I used to laugh it off, until I actually noticed it one day. I think that was the moment I knew Javi was in love with me, and the moment I realized I was in love with him, too.

“And all of that brings me to the second reason I decided to make a speech tonight,” I continued. “Because Javi is such an amazing person, I often try to give him the best gifts I can think of. That’s not exactly easy when you’re husband is richer than God and tends to like buying things for himself. But, tonight, I think I have finally figured out what the best gift in the world for Javi would be. And it’s definitely something I knew he has never tried to purchase for himself.”

I looked behind me. Nic was stood far enough away from the stage that no one would notice him unless they were actually looking, but close enough that he could hear me talking and knew when he would come in. He met my eyes and gave me a thumbs up. I smiled back at him before turning back to the awaiting crowd.

“Javi, here is my gift for you.” I made a grand gesture with my arms and said, “Nicolas Cage!”

A collective gasp floated through the crowd as Nic stepped up onto the stage. I looked back at Javi to see that his eyes were so wide they were nearly popping out of his head. He was paralyzed in place. I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing. I stepped off the stage and extended a hand to him.

“Come meet your hero,” I said.

“You got Nicolas Cage?” he questioned, his voice so quiet I almost couldn’t hear him. “You got the actual Nicolas Cage to come to my birthday party? This is what you’ve been planning for all this time?”

“I said I wanted to get you the best gift ever,” I reminded him. “Happy birthday, my love.”

He was finally spurred into movement. He took my hand and let me lead him towards the stage, where his hero was stood waiting. Nic smiled and extended a hand to Javi. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Javi. Your wife told me all about you.”

Javi shook his hand, but didn’t speak. I lightly nudged him, which snapped him out of his starstruck trance and got him to start talking.

The rest of the night was spent with basically everyone wanting to talk to Nic. Eventually, Javi was able to pull himself away so that Nic could speak to the crowd about whatever they wanted to hear. Javi found his way back to my side and pulled me close to him. I leaned into his embrace, watching his child-like wonder towards the man he had loved and admired for so long. I knew this whole thing was a success, and that’s all that mattered to me.

The night finally came to an end as the crowd, still also starstruck by the sudden appearance of a celebrity, reluctantly began to leave. Javi offered Nic one of the spare rooms in our mansions and called for one of his men to collect Nic’s things to bring up. I thanked the actor again for coming before leaving the two men so I could get ready for bed. As much as I loved seeing Javi’s happiness, the heels were starting to hurt my feet and I was started to grow tired.

I didn’t expect to see Javi before I fell asleep, so when he came into our room just as I was getting into bed, I was a little shocked.

“You mujer hermosa,” he said, crossing the room to stand next to me. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“Was it the best gift ever?” I asked.

“Better than the best gift ever. I don’t know how anyone will ever top what you gave me tonight,” he said.

I beamed with pride. “Well, that’s all that matters to me then. I’ve finally figured out something to give you that you haven’t gotten for yourself yet.”

He cupped my face in his hands and pulled me in for a kiss. It was sweet and passionate, and his hands found their way to the small of my back to pull me as close against him as I could. I started to giggle against his lips as he backed us up towards the bed, then we both toppled over onto the soft mattress.

“I love you so much,” he said. “I’m the luckiest man in the world to have such an incredible wife.”

“I love you, too,” I said. “And you are very lucky to have me.”

He chuckled and kissed me again so feverishly that I completely forgot about being tired.

#javi gutierrez #javi gutierrez imagine #javi gutierrez x reader #the unbearable weight of massive talent #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[boydepartment]

MY ONLY LOVE: Jake Sim x Reader: Ch. 15

description- y/n is an upcoming soloist in belift, she was previously in a disbanded group and the company decided to give her a chance. one day she runs into ex-boyfriend, jake sim, in the canteen. it was awkward and embarrassing and for weeks she tries to avoid him. you can’t avoid people forever though, especially when the company who gave her a chance tells her she has to fake date her ex boyfriend publicly.

genre- exes to lovers, fake dating, idol AU, romcom, fluff, comfort

includes- enhypen, y/n (obviously), bahiyyih (kep1er), hikaru (kep1er), p1 harmony, different idol cameos (i.e probably mark lee, bangchan, new jeans, etc)

WRITTEN CHAPTER- 500+ WORDS

“YOU TAKE WALKS TOO?”

when you got to jakes house, arriving with him, you were taken back by his mom putting you in a bone crushing hug.

“Y/N! DARLING!” she laughed as she wrapped her arms around you, layla got up from her dog bed and started to wiggle at the commotion.

“hi again mrs. sim!” you hugged her back and knelt down to pet layla.

“she remembers you!” mrs. sim smiled down at you and the dog. jake just stood there awkwardly at this interaction, it was difficult to take in you guessed. i mean, it’s not everday that your ex girlfriend from trainee days is in your home again, and now she’s your fake girlfriend.

“and you! you need to try to come home more often!” jake’s mom hugged him after that and let you both farther in the house.

it was just as you remembered it, the family portraits, old trophies from school, even the décor was the same. it shouldn’t be surprising to you, it was more homey than surprising.

you and jake sat at the table as his mom started giving you life updates about the sim family, it was really nice to be around familiarity. you didn’t get that often anymore. what really scared you was that this felt right.

“sooo jaeyun told me about the contract.” she flipped around and leaned against the counter, “is it going okay? they aren’t being weird towards either of you right?”

jake’s mom always looked out for you when you were a trainee and it was refreshing that she was still looking out for you even now, “yeah… i am okay, the only really bad thing was the whole group drama and the fansign…”

from the corner of your eye you saw jake tense up. in fact anytime the fansign was brought up he seemed to become tense.

“i know honey, jaeyun was telling me that some stuff like that was going on with you.” she sighed and handed you a cup of water. you thanked her and took a sip, jake was silent and his ears were pink.

“jaeyun it is not embarrassing that you made sure she was okay!” his mom had a shit eating grin on her face, you couldn’t help but smile behind your cup.

jake blushed harder and groans throwing his head back, “mom stop! you don’t need to tell her!”

his mom started laughing, “anyways, i will leave you two be for a bit alright?” at that she walks off to another room of the house.

“so you kept tabs on me?” you asked, smiling. jake side eyes you and you start laughing.

“its not funny! i just wanted to make sure you were doing okay but i was too shy to approach you! i thought you hated me so anytime something bad would happen to you i would go walking because i was always so stressed because-“

you were smiling and jake stopped talking, embarrassed, “you take walks too? when you’re stressed?”

jake nodded silently

“maybe we should start taking walks together then.” you smiled at him, “if that’s okay.”

“YES- i mean yes, yeah that’s cool. we can do that!”

you took another sip of your water, “good, i’m glad. we should visit here more often too…”

jake’s mouth dropped before he smiled, “sounds good y/n… sounds good…”

___

MASTERLIST

taglist- open :)

@bloofairyfox @enluv @kaykay11sworld @tumblemumblr @haisuken @bluxjun @breadlover01 @ghostiiess @filmofhybe @yourmomscuntis2tighy @beomgyusonlywife @enhaz1 @surefornext @stellarpsh @peachyun02 @softiehee @miniature-tragedy @forevrglow @imsodazed @darlingz99 @isawritesss @xoxo-jeans @firstclassjaylee

comment, dm, or send an ask to be added

PLEASE only ask via comment to be on taglist on the masterlist chapter, or teaser

a/n: i am sorry this chapter took forever and the fact it is short af

#jake sim imagines #jake sim enhypen #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enha #kpop #jake sim fluff #jake sim icons #jake sim x reader #jake sim #sim jaeyun #jake x reader #jake enhypen #enhypen jake #enhypen jake sim x reader #enhypen scenarios #jungwon enhypen #yang jungwon #lee heeseung #park sunghoon #jay park #kim sunoo #nishimura riki #yang jungwon imagines #lee heeseung imagines #kim sunoo imagines #jay park imagines #nishimura riki imagines #soul p1harmony #p1harmony

[jongseongsnudes]

fifteen.

warning; 😔😔😔 1k words.

masterlist.

you mindlessly watched all the rain outside the kitchen window, falling down and covering over the beautiful garden in the back yard. it was truly a new and refreshing sight compared to the city view you were so used to from sunghoon’s penthouse.

it had been a couple of hours since landing in japan and arriving at one of the park’s many residences here in tokyo with sunghoon. the man never spoke a word to you the entire time and you were somewhat thankful for that.

some peace and quiet was really what you needed right now before having to attend one of mr park’s acquaintance’s ball later tonight as a whole family. the yearly nishimura ball, if you remembered it correctly.

“what the hell is this?”

“what-” your question is interrupted by sunghoon chucking a big box onto the kitchen counter, spilling its contents out, revealing a beautiful pink gown inside. there’s no doubt that you’re confused about the situation, until you spot a white note lying amongst the fabric.

“hope to see you in this dress tonight when i propose to you.” - b choi.

propose. that one word stuck out like a sore thumb, that one word that obviously caught your step brother’s attention and also yours.

“this is what my dad spoke to you about, isn’t it? your wedding?”

“it’s- it’s none of your business,” you turn away to continue making your tea but sunghoon grabs your wrist, pulling you back. he has been doing this a lot lately.

“is this what you really want? to be married off like some object to someone like beomgyu?”

“please...” you don’t dare to look him in the eye, knowing well enough that tears were beginning to form in the corners of your own. you’ve always been weak in front of your step brother but for once, you didn’t want to be seen that way. “i’m doing my best to stay out of yours so please stay out of mine.”

you silently pray for the man to just walk away but he does the complete opposite instead, stepping forward until he’s standing right in front of you. the man is so close that you unknowingly hold in your breath and grip tightly onto your t-shirt in hopes of calming your nerves. but nothing works, especially not with that familiar scent suddenly filling the air around you... the familiar scent of his cologne that you’ve grown to love.

“ah for a moment there, i forgot what you really like,” he scoffs and leans in, his face is just inches away from yours, trapping your body in against the counter, “money. you and beomgyu actually suit each other a lot if you think about it.”

you manage to fight back the tears that threatened to spill, swallowing down every one of his hurtful words instead. you’re not dumb, you know you should’ve fought back but fighting with your step brother wasn’t something your mental state needed at the moment. besides, he wasn’t all that wrong.

you were nothing compared to him anyway.

“yeah... i agree with you,” your words seemed to have surprised the man, whose expression immediately changes a questioning one. not wanting to continue the conversation, you swerve around him and make your way up the staircase.

“wow...”

you couldn’t really believe that you were looking at your own reflection in the wall sized mirror.

even after living as a park these past few months, you still weren’t used to all of this. the make up, the hair, the little, priceless tiara on top of your head and the beautiful pink gown that beomgyu had sent over earlier. you just weren’t used to any it. this lifestyle in general.

“you look so beautiful miss park,” the stylist (that mr park had arranged) says to you from the side, her eyes full of admiration. “you’re going to be the the belle of the ball.”

“thank you... it’s all thanks to you of course,” you say with a gentle smile, bowing your head slightly to thank her, “you made me like this.”

“miss, you are already so beautiful. i really didn’t do much.”

she bows at you and exits your bedroom, leaving you and your thoughts alone. it didn’t really matter what you looked like, it’s what’s coming later that bothered you. ever since receiving the gift and note from beomgyu, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about it.

he was going to propose and knowing beomgyu’s personality, he’s going to make a scene at the ball tonight in front of everyone.

glancing over at the wall clock, you realise that it was almost time to leave so you quickly grab your clutch and head down the staircase. after your conversation with sunghoon earlier, you’re almost sure that he would’ve left for the ball himself instead of going with you as planned.

it was probably better that way anyway, to keep a distance from him for now.

after managing to not fall down the stairs in your heels and long gown, you surprisingly spot sunghoon sitting in the massive living room, on his phone. seeing him in his black tuxedo almost had you tripping over yourself because...

wow.

how was this man even real?

how could he take your breath away time after time?

you don’t bother saying anything and head straight for the door, seemingly catching his attention. he looks up at you for a split second then looks at you again. he looks somewhat confused... or dare you say, surprised at your appearance but you have no idea why.

maybe this dress didn’t look as pretty on you as you thought it did?

the entire car ride to the grand tokyo hotel where the function was being held was a complete blur to you. to say you were nervous would’ve been quite the understatement with the way you were clutching at your dress, almost ripping the delicate fabric apart. you actually wanted to throw up at this point.

your grip only tightens once the grand venue comes into view, along with the flashing of hundreds of cameras that surrounded the entrance. as expected, many photographers had gathered here tonight, ready to take photos of all the famous people arriving. no wonder why mr park wanted you both to be here tonight, to display his family man image.

“what’s there to be nervous about? you’ll get to see beomgyu soon,” sunghoon suddenly grabs onto your hand, making you jump in surprise, “this is what you wanted, isn’t it? you said so yourself, baby sister.”

you both hold each other's gazes for a few moments, no one saying a thing. although his words were obviously provoking and filled with distaste, his expression seemed the complete opposite. it was as though he was... dare you say, worried about you, his furrowed brows, soft eyes and tight grasp of your hand the very evidence of that.

... but why would sunghoon be worried about you?

right?

of course he isn’t, you’re just being delusional. this was park sunghoon you’re talking about, a man who has hated you from the start, a man who enjoyed toying with you... a man who couldn’t wait for you to get out of his life.

and that is exactly what you’ll be doing.

“yeah sunghoon... i guess it is but it’s what you want too, isn’t it?”

end.

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#the enha universe #enhypen #enhypen drabble #enhypen fanfic #enhypen scenario #enhypen reaction #enhypen smut #sunghoon #enhypen imagine #enhypen fic #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon #park sunghoon imagine #park sunghoon drabble #sunghoon angst #sunghoon smut #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon fic #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon; step brother #jongseongsnudes

[sorceresski]

Post Shower - Ruben Dias

Reblogs help push my fics out, thank you!☺️

Pairing; Ruben Dias x gf!reader

Summary: Champions League man of the match, Ruben comes home in a celebratory mood.

Tags: nsfw…basically

It was another champions league night, but you had been held up at work meaning you couldn’t support real time at the stadium. Which was why you were sat in the living room of your shared apartment watching the match. The match ended with a win, the team progressing to the quarterfinals and Ruben named man of the match. You couldn’t be more proud.

As they cut to the post match interviews, you took that as your sign to freshen up and prepare for Ruben’s arrival. He was sure to be buzzing with excitement. You felt giddy just thinking about it.

The hot shower was just what you needed. You stepped out feeling refreshed, wrapping yourself in a towel just as you heard the front door shut close. Seconds later, he bust into bathroom, he’s eyes lighting up as they settle on you.

“Hey, hey, I just had a shower,” you say, giving him a halfhearted shove as he gathered you in his arms. “Outside clothes!” Ruben ignores you and begins placing kisses on every area of bare skin he could find, earning a giggle for his ministrations.

“Hm, me, an empath, sensing you’re happy,” you tap your chin thoughtfully. His smile grows even wider.

“I’m full of joy, we had a great night.”

You nod, “I saw, you played beautifully.” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, pulling back as he sought to deepen it. Ruben’s arms got even tighter around you.

“I know how we can make the night even greater,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“I’ve just showered Ruben.” Another weak shove for the bit, but you unconsciously clamped your thighs together at his words.

He rolled his eyes, “That’s never stopped us before has it?”

“But…” You started, but the world spun as he hoisted you onto his shoulders effortlessly. The next thing you knew, he was between your thighs, hovering above you on the bed. The man of the match trophy stood on your vanity, glinting in the ambient lighting, demanding attention.

He kissed you, hungry, dragging your attention back to him. You groaned in frustration as he pulled away. “Ruben.”

Ruben flipped onto his back, pulling you on top. The towel fell away, the flimsy knot you tied finally giving up. His eyes raked over your body, taking it in like it was your first night together even after all this time.

He threw a hand behind his head, the other coming to rest on your hip, a smirk ghosting his lips. “Would you look at that? I’ve been overpowered.”

You shifted above him, feeling his hard on through the dark blue City sweats he still had on. He stilled at the movement and you suddenly had an idea how you wanted this night to go.

You pinned his hands to the bed beside his head, fully aware that he could flip you back under him at any moment. “I might have some plans for you Mr Dias.”

He let it happen.

#Ruben Dias x reader #Ruben Dias #Ruben Dias fanfic #footballer imagines #footballer fic

[blossom-works]

Home For My Heart: It’s a Family Thing

More of my Mbappe stories can be found here

---

Since you and Kylian are from two different countries and cultures, you love to mess with each other. When you really want to mess with him, you will purposefully call football, “soccer”. Without fail it annoys Kylian and you take great pleasure in it. One time you put on an American Football game and called out to your then boyfriend, “Hey, babe! Let’s watch some football!” Kylian glared at you when he came downstairs. He snatched the remote from you and put on a true football game. 

It is no surprise that the Mbappe family loves football. Heck, all their sons play the sport. It will not be long until the Mbappe family line is full of professional athletes. You have no idea what the family talks about more than football. Whenever his family gets together, Kylian and his brothers will have a 1 v 1 v 1 game. Their father, Wilfriend, will act as the referee. Sometimes they will drag you and Melissa into their game. 

When your nephew found out that you were dating a professional footballer, they did not know how to react. Especially when they met Kylian in person for the first time. Your boys were shy and even shyer when Kylian asked them if they wanted him to teach them how to play “soccer”.  After they warmed up to him, Kylian ended up teaching them a couple of tricks. Your oldest nephew ended up joining his school’s soccer club too. 

You remember going to one of Kylian’s matches as his girlfriend for the first time. It was a game in England against Manchester. Kylian told you to clear your schedule for one week and he flew you to the British country. It was also the first time you met his family. 

---

Landing at Heathrow Airport, you try to navigate your way through the big building. When you eventually reach the bagging area, you feel like you are playing “Marco Polo”. You think you found your bag, but it is someone else’s. Spotting another light gray suitcase, you check the tag and yes! It is your bag! Hauling it out of the luggage carousel, you head to the main exit and find a man holding a sign with your name on it. 

“Mr. Lewis?”

The uniformed man smiles. “May I see an ID ma’am?”

“Sure.” You pull out your wallet from your carry-on backpack and take out your driver’s license. Still smiling at you, the man hands you back the card.

“Allow me, miss.” He takes your suitcase and starts leading you to his car. “Mr. Mbappe has instructed me to take you directly to the hotel. He has also instructed me to tell you that you’ll be having dinner with him and his family. Six I believe.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Man... this feels weird. Never have you had someone take your luggage for you and tell you what your agenda looks like. Not only that, but to have a total stranger chauffeur you around (you are not a fan of Ubers or Lyfts). 

Mr. Lewis opens the door for a Mercedes for you and once closed, puts your luggage into the truck. The vehicle has leather seats and looks brand-new. It even has a parting window in it. You feel like Mia Thermopolis from “The Princess Diaries” when you think about playing with the buttons. 

The ride to the hotel is smooth. Mr. Lewis even starts a conversation with you without getting personal. He tells you that he is from the countryside, but he moved to the city for work. He even met his wife here and they now have three children. When you arrive at the hotel, bellhops open the door and takes your luggage out. Mr. Lewis tells them your name and to your surprise, the bellhops know who you are. Like they have been expecting you. 

‘God what money can do.’

One of the bellhops escorts you to the front desk and before you can thank Mr. Lewis, his car is gone. The receptionist checks you in and hands you a keycard. She informs you that your luggage should already be in your room, and that another employee will bring a refreshment to you soon. When you get to your room, you are amazed at how big it is. Most of your hotel stays consist of Holiday Inns or The Marriott. Kylian did not let the opportunity to impress you slip by. There is even a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers on the dresser with a note that says, “Welcome to London, bébé”.

You remember Mr. Lewis telling you about the dinner plans and scrambling to get your phone out. You have about five hours until you have to leave your room. Enough time for a three-hour nap. Taking your shoes off, you plop your bodyweight on the comfortable bed. Just when you are about to lose consciousness, someone knocks on your door. Opening it, an employee with a cloche and tray greets you and places the snack on the table. He asks you if there is anything you need and you tell him no. Thanking him, you shut the door and open the cloche. A cup of hummus with fresh pita bread and vegetables is beautifully arranged. As good as the snack looks, sleep is what you really need. You set a timer for three hours and knock the fuck out. 

Thank goodness you decided to put your ringer on full blast or else you would not have heard it. Though, it does make your heart race from the sudden, loud noise. You have to coach yourself to not fall back asleep. Feeling an uncomfortable wetness, you lift your cheek and smell saliva on the pillow. Way to go you...ruining a perfectly good pillow in less than half a day. Shaking your head and wiping your cheek on your shirt, you roll out of bed and open your suitcase. Luckily Kylian told you to pack at least three pairs of nice clothes and maybe a dress or two. Pulling out whatever you think is nice, you set it on the bed and get started with your makeup. You opt to keep your hair simple by just straightening it. You put on some dainty earrings with a matching necklace. Your dress is a modest, black body con dress. From the top compartment of your suitcase, you pull out a pair of Jordans Kylian got you for your birthday. 

As you are checking yourself out in the mirror you realize that you have no idea where you are supposed to go. Fuck! You forgot that you are meeting his family all together! Jumping back, you make sure that your attire is appropriate enough to meet your boyfriend’s family. Is your makeup too much? You like to keep it natural and minimal as possible, but everyone has their own definition of natural. Maybe wearing shoes Kylian got you is a bit much. His family might think that you are showing off Ky’s money. Oh, God, you hope they at least like you. 

Before you can continue playing your own Devil’s Advocate, someone knocks on your room door. On the other side of the door is a nicely dressed woman. 

“Hello, miss. I’m here to escort you to the restaurant.”

‘Oh, thank goodness.’

Thanking her, you make sure you have all you need, not forgetting the key card, and follow the lady to the elevator. She leads you up to the fifteenth floor and makes a sharp right. The restaurant she takes you in has a modern and dark look to it. Instead of leading you to a table, she takes you down a secluded hallway. Opening one of the doors to the left, she motions you to enter. You quietly thank her with a racing heart. 

Kylian is the first to spot you and he smiles. 

“Bébé!” His taller figure appears right in front of you, and he gives you a couple of pecks. 

“How are you doing? How was the flight? I’m sorry I couldn’t get you myself. We had to practice once more before the game.”

“C’est bon.” It feels good to finally see Kylian after being months apart. He plants a final kiss on your temple and moves to the side so he can introduce you to his family. You give them an awkward greeting with a small wave, hoping that you do not look stupid. It’s alright.

His mother, Fayza, gets up and greets you with a hug. His father, Wilfried, is next. He gives you a handshake before hugging you. They both say “Hi” to you in English. Kylian’s brothers give you a wave and Melissa offers you a hug. She tells her kids to say “Hello”, which they obey. It is kind of crazy to see them all grown up. You remember seeing them on Kylian’s Instagram years ago when they were only two or three. Holy crap...Does that make you old? Needless to say, meeting Kylian’s family is a surreal moment for you. 

Kylian’s family asks you about your family life and job in America. You tell them stories of your childhood and they told you Kylian’s in exchange. He tried to stop his mother from showing you a picture of his baby self in the bathtub, but it did not work. She just slaps his hand away and shows you the image in her phone. Wilfried and you talk about your education. What schools you went to and about your internships. You even expose that you are a history nerd. It takes you a while for you and Ethan to get comfortable around each other, but you find some things to talk about. 

Jires and Melissa ask more about your family. You come from a big family. Four older siblings while you are the abby. You and Melissa bond over feminine topics and even your experience with kids. Since your whole dream job deals with children, you ask her about tips you can put to use. All the while you talking to the Mbappe family, Kylian cannot keep his eyes off you. Nor can his smile leave his face. Yeah. You will fit in just fine. 

---

Excited that your package has arrived, you run to the kitchen to open it. Pulling out the product you awe at the craftmanship. You start to get a little emotional over the sentimental value of the product. Getting a mailer box you got a week ago, you jazz it up. Placing the crafted items right on top of the fillers. You close the box and leave it on the wooden table.

You decide to take a walk around the area where you live. Ever since you moved to Europe, you have fallen in love with its architecture. Unlike the US, European cities are more condensed, so people prefer to walk rather than drive. You love that you do not have to drive at least fifteen minutes to a shop, bakery, restaurant, or park. European cities are like a cleaner and less noisy Washington D.C. 

Going to a nearby fresh market, you pick up a few small desserts and fruit. With two bags in hand and a cup of gelato, you head back home. Your apartment building doubles as a hotel. The hotel consists of the bottom three floors and the upper four are apartments. Residents use separate elevators than the hotel guest. Their elevators are right in the front lobby while the resident’s elevators is in a private lobby that is closely monitored. 

When you and Kylian got married, you agreed that you two will wait to buy a house when you have two kids. It is not that your penthouse is small (it is far from that), but you have always wanted to have a backyard. One that your children can run in. You prefer real grass, but faux grass is fine too. As you walk inside your home, you put the desserts and fruits in the fridge. Every now and then on Instagram, you see these moms who buy organizers for their fridges, and you just cannot bother. The same can be said for your pantry. 

You throw your gelato cup in the trash and put on your favorite show. It has been your favorite for a long time, and it never gets old. Kylian does not understand how you can watch something over and over again in a one-week period, and then do the same thing the next week. You get lost in a couple of episodes when the front door opens. 

“Hey, bébé.”

“Hey. I accidentally opened one of your packages. I left it on the kitchen table.”

Kylian is not bothered that you opened something mailed to him, but he is confused because he is not expecting a package to come in. Maybe a company sent him a PR package. Kylian kisses your cheek from behind the couch and sees the white box. Pulling the tabs out and lifting the top. It only takes a couple of seconds for him to register what the “package” is. Jumping in joy, he whips his head to the couch and sees you leaning against the back of it, widely grinning. 

Your husband of just four months takes out the plastic stick and makes large strides to you. 

“Amour! Are you serious!”

“Mm-hmm.” You nod. 

Kylian hugs you by your shoulders. If you could, you would bet that Kylian is happier than when he wins the World Cup. Truthfully, no trophy can top what the “package” contains. Inside the white box is a pair of small crochet cleats, a small crochet football, and a positive pregnancy test. It looks like football really does run in the Mbappe family. 

Two Months Later:

Your pregnancy has been easy to hide since your stomach has not grown a lot. It only looks like you just overate a bit. Kylian has been waiting to tell his family and friends about the exciting news, but you asked him not to. You know and know people that have had a miscarriage early in their first trimester. Plus, doctors say that the first trimester is the most critical because most miscarriages happen during this stage. After your first trimester ended, you and Kylian decided that now is time to tell your family. 

There is no major holiday coming up so you cannot announce the pregnancy in one go. Getting creative, you decided to copy the way you told Kylian. Just a little different. You made a list of all your immediate family members (Kylian’s combined) who have their own residence and made a coordinating number of boxes. Each box contains copies of your latest ultrasound photo and a note that says, “Little Kicker, Coming August 20XX.”

#kylian mbappé #mbappe x reader #Kylian Mbappé imagine #Kylian x reader #football #fanfiction #x reader #football imagine