#i don't care that they have a year age gap in the book

[adalineozie]

Me after reading Thrillkiller and seeing another version of Dick Grayson die and Barbara and Bruce have a romantic relationship

[masochistartt]

Can you tell us your favorite age gap books

i am not even going to lie to you anon, the football brainrot has kept me from reading anything for longer than i'd like to admit, and i have a generally bad memory in the first place so it's kind of tough for me to recall things i have read.

the first one that came to mind was something to talk about by meryl wilsner, it's a sapphic book about a screenwriter who wrote one of the biggest shows on tv (i think again sorry shit memory i'm pretty sure she just got a massive job to write a movie when the book starts) and her personal assistant. who i think. i think is younger than she is.

parable of the sower has a pretty significant age gap relationship in it but that's not what you're there for if you're reading that book tbh - it's a great sci fi that i'd def rec, but it's not like. it's not like you're going to read a dystopian book about a girl who starts a new religion to try to survive a waterless hellscape just for the age gap relationship. unless you are. if you are good for you

i also want to recommend amberlough by lara elena donnelly. i can't remember if the mc and his love interest have an age gap or if they're both old men but whatever they've got going on is fucked up (complimentary)

on the same page of i don't remember if there's an age gap but whatever the mc and the love interest have going on is wild (complimentary), a memory called empire by arkady martine. this is also sci-fi (so not primarily focused on the romance, there's more shit going on), but there's also a power dynamic (complimentary) in this one.

that's all i can think of right now ?? i might be able to come up with more given time and less brainrot tbh but. i hope those are good enough recs ?? i hope ?? enjoy ??

[thedropsofblood]

A wolf in hunter's clothing

Warnings: Dub-con, age gap (????), mostly gender neutral but made with male reader in mind, size difference, started as rough -> slightly sweet mid-way, bratty reader, overstimulation, blindfolding, implied obsessive behaviour.

Word count: 8k

Minors DNI, do not report, I WILL cry /nsrs

Isekai, the act of transporting a person from earth to a different planet, world, universe, usually of a novel or a video game. It was a childish concept that you haven't bothered and never intended to look into, until you got 'isekaied' yourself.

Unlike what your younger siblings have told you, instead of beautiful vast magical worlds filled with sub-human species and a logical storyplot, you ended up in the most boring case scenario, a fairy tale. Specifically, the "Red Riding Hood" children's book that fell out of the shelf and onto the ground next to you while you were at a bookstore.

As any normal person does, you picked up the book, hoping to put it back to it's original spot, but got your body sucked into the pages instead. To be fair, it could've been worse, so, so much worse. You luckily didn't become the new Red Riding Hood, instead, you became the older brother of the Red Riding Hood.

It's not as bad as it sounds, like, you have a loving and caring family of both parents and an adorable younger sister, as well as a grandmother who you occasionally visits for the first 18 years of your life. What more could you ask for?

The life of your younger sister, that's what you could ask for. Even if they're technically not real, you couldn't help but care for them, care for the years of family meetings, the little happy moments, the vacations, even something as trivial as a meal together. And yet, imagine how your heart sunk in once you heard your mother tell your sister to deliver the cookies to your grandmother tomorrow after hearing rumors of the hunter being on break on the same day.

It made your anxiety levels go wayhire. Your sister's and your grandmother's life depended on the hunter after all, what would happen to them if there's no more hunter? Will they die under the wolf's hands? Can you even escape this book if they die?

.

.

.

Would you be trapped here forever then? What about your family outside of this? Would they even still remember you after 18 years? Worse, what if they just, hate you now?

Why should you even leave this place if that's the case?...

You crawled onto a ball on your bed, hugging onto the soft pillow in search of even a little bit of comfort. This place wasn't real, none of this is, your world was simply a scramble of words combined together by some random old man hundreds of years back, hell, you weren't even supposed to be here, why would you care if your supposed 'sister' and 'grandmother' dies?

Yet you found yourself restless. You had an idea on what to do, god knows if it'll work, but... It'll never hurt to try, right?

You throw your pillow away and change into warmer clothes, turning off the lights before sneaking out of the house through the window, heading directly towards the bright tavern in the middle of the town.

"Brother, why are you not eating? Do you not like it?" The voice of your sister knocked you right out of your thoughts, scrambling to take a bite out of the sandwich she made for you.

"No no- it's good, it's good, I'm just thinking about what I need to get for groceries." Your sister barely bought your excuse, barely. You can still see her crossing her arms and pouting in the corner of your eyes. She was glaring at you for a few solid minutes, as if trying to pry the truth from you. With a huff, she leaned back against the chair and muttered under her breath.

"Remember to buy some candy for me while you're at it then, I'm gonna go now. I don't wanna leave grandma waiting." You let out a mental sigh of relief, ruffling your little sister's hair. "You're just as childish as ever." You chuckled.

Before you sister leaves, she jumped into your arms to give you a hug causing a small smile escapes from your mouth. Your hand reached up to pat her on the head, if you had to be honest, you don't know if you regret your deal with the hunter or not anymore.

"Shit... If I knew slacking off would get you on my dick, I would've taken so many vacations."

The hunter chuckled, leaning in to place a loving kiss on your forehead. You pushed his head back to give him a glare, well, as best as a glare could be with the blindfold covering your eyes. You barked, gritting your teeth as you tried to kick him in the stomach.

"Shut the fuck up and just get it done with already. This deal was only for my family, bastard. Bet you can't even get anyone else to get into bed with you without forcing them into shitty deals-" Your words were cut mid way when he firmly slapped you across your face, his other hand gripping your ankle and hosteling your leg onto his shoulder.

You hissed in annoyance, yet a part of you felt pride for successfully pissing the hunter off. You can only assume what his face was like right now, is he glaring down at you like a lamb in the slaughter or is that stupid smug smirk on his face away? You didn't even have time to guess twice before he shoved his fingers into your mouth with a firm "Suck."

You held yourself back from laughing when you got your answer immediately, this guy was pissed as fuck. You decided to comply anyways, sucking on his fingers and making sure to bite them lightly as you pulled back.

"Sweetheart, did nobody teach you to not play with fire?" His hand wandered down to thrust his fingers roughing into you, his other hand gripping onto your chin to muffle your noises with a kiss.

This fucking bastard didn't even give you a warning before he turned you into puddy over his fingers, you bit onto the bottom of his lips, but instead of him pulling away, he continued on, ignoring the way you clawed onto his back as if you were trying to murder him.

Your hands reach up to try and remove your blindfold out of annoyance, leading to his hand snapping up to hold your wrists together, the other one pulling out of you to unbuckle his belt. "Good boys don't disobey their orders, sweetheart." He chuckled half-heartedly.

That scratched you in the worst way possible, but before you could even react, he thrust the tip of his dick into you, stealing all the air out of your lungs. "Fucking! Ugh- Warn me!" Your nails dug onto your palm, you felt like all your body strength just disappeared into thin air.

You didn't even have time to complain about it after he thrusted fully into you, huffing at the sight of your body shaking like a leaf under him. It was adorable how your attitude went away as soon as he entered, but to be fair, you would probably be more horrified when you realized his dick made a small bump on your stomach.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead as he started moving at a fairly gentle pace. He freed your wrists to grip onto your hips, leaning forward to place comforting kisses on your neck. "Come on, let me hear those beautiful noises of yours, sweetheart."

You bit the bottom of your lip to the point of drawing blood, your hands gripping onto the bedsheets underneath to the point of your knuckles turning white. Despite your efforts, some small muffled noises still managed to escape your throat, which was enough for him to speed up his ravage with a satisfied grin.

"You're truly so, so adorable, sweetheart." He groaned, hugging you and burying his face into your collarbone. Your hand moved to grip onto his hair to try and push him away, but it barely felt like anything to him due to the lack of strength in your body. Your antics didn't last long anyways, you were already a cock-drunk moaning mess under him, and at this point, he thinks he likes you better this way.

Those thoughts made him bite your neck roughly as he threw away all self control he had, prioritizing on chasing his own pleasure instead. You wouldn't have complained if you didn't get overstimulated from that, you already came a few moments beforehand, and he didn't even give you a break from abusing your sweet spot even more.

You couldn't be bothered to try and stay quiet when you felt like you would break under him. As a warm feeling filled your stomach, you felt lightheaded as you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down from the climax.

He pulled you into a hug, his hand patting you on the back of your head as he pulled out and rested you on your side. Before you drifted off to sleep, you felt a kiss on your cheek as he muttered something you couldn't make out.

A/N: This was supposed to be wolf X reader but I felt like writing some dilfs today, wondering if I should start writing more dilfs...

[ozzgin]

Yandere! CEO Headcanons

Just a little idea I had some time ago of a rather bizarre dynamic: a CEO with no time to spare, introduced to a young student his wife befriended. Perhaps he does have a moment, after all. (I need to dump my preference for a cultured older man somewhere) Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, NSFW, dating the wife is optional

[Yandere Masterlist]

Yandere! CEO who is in his mid 40s and terribly invested in his job. So much, that he and his wife agreed on an open relationship many years ago and barely interact anymore. Not a gloomy business by any means: she gets to meet new people and he can enjoy his work and hobbies in peace and without guilt.

Yandere! CEO who doesn't think much of it when his wife brings home a young student she befriended at a convention. He nods dismissively, returning to his papers and phone calls. At dinner, he just hums in acknowledgement and fiddles with the cutlery while the woman talks about you excitedly. "You know, (Y/N) reminds me a little of you." Nonsense.

Yandere! CEO with whom you scarcely interact: he's a borderline workaholic, and your relationship is cordial at best. That is until you're asked by the wife to retrieve some important documents from their ridiculously luxurious apartment. You quietly tiptoe past the office, but can't help glancing at the imposing library, stacked with books. The man's sudden arrival startles and you begin to mumble apologies, but he seems more interested in your curiosity than anything else.

Yandere! CEO who can't believe you both like the same authors. He discreetly removes the folder from your hands, tasking one of the assistants to deliver it to his wife instead. There are more important matters at hand. Have you had your coffee yet? Oh, you must stay longer. What's the hurry?

Yandere! CEO who has become awfully perceptive whenever your name is mentioned in conversations, innocently probing for more details. Naturally, he wouldn't mind meeting you again, but it's not...a need, per se. He was just pleasantly surprised to find someone he could so easily engage in conversation with. Hell, you're old enough to be his daughter. Don't be ridiculous, he'll scold himself sternly whenever his mind wanders too far.

Yandere! CEO who begins to feel like each encounter is a flirty tease. Is it just wishful thinking, or are you becoming cheekier by day? The way you bat your eyelashes, the way you cast your eyes down whenever he looks at you. The next time you're alone in the apartment, he's too far gone in his delusions to act rationally. How unusual for him to act so nonchalant. Unbuttoning your shirt with haste, trailing your neck with hot kisses, lifting your leg and pressing you against the wall. He never considered himself the type to fuck a much younger woman out of raw lust.

Yandere! CEO who loves taking you on dates despite his busy schedule. Art museums, theatres, the Opera. He is eager to introduce you to his interests and will answer any question or curiosity you have. Who would've thought everything is better in two? Of course, there could be other factors involved. Like the added bonus of watching you squirm in your seat and biting your lips to be quiet while he fingers you at the peak of Act 3. Then smirking to himself when everyone stands up for applause, and you have to rearrange your dress to hide the wet mess underneath.

Yandere! CEO who worries about you when he's on work trips, so he tasks his right-hand man to look after you and keep you company. If you ever get lonely, you can rely on his assistant to take care of all your needs. Now, he's not one to share, despite his marital arrangement. As bizarre as it sounds, he just sees the employee as a mere toy, an idle occupation who can temporarily entertain you in his absence. What he does perceive as a threat is swiftly taken care of. It's enough for you to mention another student flirted with you, and you'll never see that person again. You have to understand that he doesn't play around with his assets. One he has something, he holds onto it with ironclad strength. And he's never been more desperate to keep something in his possession.

Yandere! CEO who makes sure to remind you why dating him is your best (and only) choice. You would've wasted your time with boys your age. He can offer you the world and more, all you need to do is ask for it.

[motherofdogs1010]

Guys Not My Age I (Peter Parker x Reader)

Summary: They say sometimes older men are better when it comes to relationships, but Y/N finds that isn't always the case when she wakes up in bed with a certain younger man after breaking up with a certain Winter Soldier

Warning: 18+ only, age gap relationship, older woman/younger man!, everyone is over 18!, fratboy!Peter Parker, cheater!Bucky, computergenius!reader, hacker!reader, toxicex!Bucky, consensual sex, semi public sex, heavy smut, drinking, swearing, unprotected sex, eventual pregnancy

A/N: Re-write of 'Need to Know'

Series Masterlist

Banner @vase-of-lilies Dividers @firefly-graphics

Her head throbbed and pulsated as she begun to wake up.

The overall shittyness of a hangover taking over her body as the loud, blarming phone alarm rung hard in her ears as she groaned. She buried her face into the pillow as she felt movement coming from next to her, immediate confusion filling her mind as she heard, "Shit, sorry. Forgot that I had the stupid alarm on."

She recognized that voice even with it being laced with grogginess and sleep as she snapped open her eyes, wincing from the daylight that peeked over the curtains.

She was met with an unfamiliar room that looked like the standard college dorm: books and notes in an slight mess on the desk with a laptop hanging by it, posters on the walls and the distinct sound of boys laughing and footsteps coming down the halls.

Turning her head, her eyes widened as the memories of the previous night filled her as she resisted to gulp as she was met with the shirtless image of Peter fiddling with his phone.

The memories of the night before felt like a tidal wave washing over her as she remembered having gone out to drinks with the Avengers team to celebrate their latest takedown of yet another Hydra compound (she handled hacking into the tightly encrypted computers) and she knew Tony had partly also wanted to take her out to get her back out onto the dating scene.

She watched as Peter scratched his head for a moment, seemingly beginning to wake back up as she came to the realization of her naked body under the blanket and the realization of her memories being confirmed as she saw a glimpse of the scratches on Peter's back.

Sitting up as she tugged up the blanket, she wondered how the hell she was suppose to do a walk of shame out of her as Peter said, "anyway, want to get breakfast?"

"What?"

Peter tilted his head a little, "want to get breakfast? I thought since we were getting along so well..."

The ache between her legs from last night a reminder of how well they got along.

It wasn't like she didn't enjoy it or anything, but it was the realization that she had slept with someone nearly ten years younger than her.

"Peter, I'm-"

"I know. You're 30 and I'm 21, I don't care." Peter shrugged and she couldn't help but get distracted by his strong physique. "I told you I don't want a girl my age, I've wanted you."

It made her heart clench at statement.

"All I'm asking for is you take a chance", Peter pleaded, bringing their lips into a soft kiss.

It made her melt.

"Fine. One chance."

Peter grinned.

"But I refuse to be seen by a bunch of frat boys so you better make sure they clear out of here. I'm too old to be dealing with that."

"You're barely 30, no even that old."

Y/N downed the shot of tequila that Tony had passed her, laughing as she felt the burn in her throat and hearing Tony cheering. Say what you want about Tony, but he knew how to party as he had taken them to some nightclub that he bought for shits and giggles.

"Enjoying the burn", Tony teased, Y/N laughed.

"It's the tequila sweats that I hate", she said back.

Standing up from the little VIP booth Tony had rented for them all, Y/N scoped out her surroundings. She saw Nat dragging a bashful Steve to the dance floor, Steve was awkwardly moving around before he finally got the hang of it and began dancing with Nat. Y/N laughed as she watched Steve get down on the dance floor, she spotted Vision (who had his human form on) with Wanda near the bar as Wanda was getting another drink.

"Are you having fun?"

Y/N looked in the direction to see Peter standing there with a grin, Y/N smiled back at him.

"I wondered where you were", Y/N responded, "I always forget your 21."

"My baby face makes it that way", Peter joked.

Y/N had to admit, Peter Parker was a very attractive man, especially right now with his hair gelled back, a white button down that had the sleeves rolled up and dark slacks. Tony said Peter had changed a lot since high school, having managed to join a fraternity in his first year of college; she had only met Peter in the last year so hearing that he was anything but confident before was a little shocking since he walked around like a little mini Tony sometimes.

Peter moved a little closer to her as Tony announced that he was going to join Wanda at the bar.

Sam and Clint were missing, both men having taken some time off to go visit their families, especially for Sam since he wanted to be there for one of his nephew's birthdays.

Although, the person that everyone seemed to ignore that wasn't there was a certain Winter Soldier, but it seemed everyone was on the rocks with the man at the moment. But cheating and immediately bringing around the girl you cheated with will do that, won't it?

Of course that was the second main reason behind Tony bringing nearly all of them out to the club was because of her confiding in Tony about being ready to get back out there. She felt no issue confiding in Tony considering how close of friends they were, she was coming out in his upcoming wedding to Pepper in just a few months time.

"It's a cute baby face", Y/N teased, Peter chuckled.

"I'm glad you're having fun", Peter said, "you deserve it."

Y/N smiled as she tugged up the neckline of her red mini dress, the fabric clinging to her large breasts and hips. It was an off the shoulder dress that she chose just for the occasion with long sleeves and paired with some red bottoms that Nat was letting her borrow.

Y/N watched as Peter looked a bit indecisive as if he was second guessing himself before he blurted out, "Would you like to dance?"

"Don't you think you should be dancing with someone your own age?" she teased before Peter snaked a toned arm around her waist.

"Age is just a number, right?" Peter answered with a wink. "When it comes to two consenting adults, of course."

She wouldn't be an idiot to say she hadn't noticed the younger man's eyes roaming her figure. But she never thought much of it considering she had been in a relationship with Bucky, but that bridge was burned a lot time ago.

She was here to have fun, dance a little, drink... there was no harm in just a dance, right?

"Alright, Spiderboy", Y/N said, "show me what you got."

~

Wanna know what it's like (like) Baby, show me what it's like (like) I don't really got no type (type) I just wanna fuck all night

The sound of Doja Cat singing could be heard even in the women's restroom, the door locked in a rush as Peter pressed her harder into said door. Their tongues dancing across one another as she could taste the alcohol on his tongue, Y/N moaned as Peter slotted his knee between her legs, pressing against her wet cunt and beginning to rock her hips against him.

But Peter pulled his knee away and she whimpered, breaking the kiss for a moment before she felt one of his hands trail under her dress, finding her thong.

"You're soaked", Peter teased, she shuddered as Peter ran a finger down her slit. "I bet I could slid right in."

As if that was his cue, Peter slid a finger into her, Y/N let her head fall into Peter's chest as he slowly began to pump his finger in her.

"Don't tease", she moaned as she brought his face down to hers.

What's your size? (Size) Add, subtract, divide ('vide) Daddy don't throw no curves (curves) Hold up, I'm goin' wide (wide) We could just start at ten (ten) Then we can go to five (five) I don't play with my pen (pen) I mean what I write

She connected their lips again as Peter slid another finger into, fingering her harder now as he began to rub her clit in tight circles. Y/N cried out at the sensations as she rocked her hips in time with Peter's movements.

Peter began to trail kisses down her neck as her eyes rolled back into her head, her mouth falling open as pants escaped her mouth.

"Fuck you're beautiful", Peter said as he quickened his fingers. "Come on, Y/N, cum on me."

Y/N felt like she was in the Twilight Zone right now, but fuck it, she was enjoying it with the way Peter was fingering her. She could feel that tight knot building in her as Peter's fingers reached an area in her that made her nearly tear up in pleasure, his fingers practically massaging it as she began to tug on his hair as her toes began to curl.

"P-Peter", she panted, "gonna...cum..."

She saw Peter grin in satisfaction as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. She felt breathless and fuzzy as Peter fingered her through it before she whimpered at the overstimulation, which Peter pulled his fingers out.

"Still think I should find someone my own age?" Peter teased, she narrowed her eyes as she panted.

Peter slid his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them.

"I always knew you'd taste sweet", Peter said as she reached for his belt buckle.

Peter brought a hand up, squishing her cheeks together and forcing her lips into a pout; he pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips as she successfully managed to get unzip Peter's slacks, slipping her hand inside to begin to tease the younger man in front of her.

"Now, you wanna be a tease?" Peter groaned as he began to move her to one of the many sinks in the bathroom.

I just can't help but be sexual (whoa) Tell me your schedule (yeah) I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will) I do what I can to get you off (I will)

Peter had gotten her on the sink, legs spread and her thong stuffed in one of his pockets as he began to rock into her. Her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she felt Peter hike up her leg on him higher, sending him into deeper territory and brushing up against her G-spot as he began to rub her clit in time with his rocking.

"P-Peter", she slurred, eyes beginning to water from pleasure.

"Fuck, you're squeezing me so good", Peter whined as he gripped the sink below her.

His thrusts becoming rougher as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Might just fuck him with my makeup on (I will) Eat it like I need an apron on (yeah, ay) Eat it 'til I need to change my thong (yeah, ay) We could do it to your favorite song (yeah, ay)

Her makeup was ruined, she was sure of it from the amount of kissing, sweat and tears. Y/N shivered as Peter bite down on a part of her neck, making her clench around her even tighter and causing him to let out more groans of pleasure, his hips slapping into her even rougher.

The sound of skin slapping skin rung in bathroom, echoing off the walls as she brought Peter's face back to her own, smashing their lips together as she squealed when her second orgasm hit her, her legs shaking and back arching.

You're exciting, boy, come find me Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me" Fuck that feeling both us fighting Could he try me? (Yeah) mmm, most likely

She had pushed Peter onto one of the toilets in the bathroom, his dick red and leaking when she had straddled him before sinking down onto him. Y/N shivered as she felt Peter stretching her out again and she knew she was going to be feeling him the next day as she moaned and threw her head back at the delicious stretch his cock gave her cunt again.

Peter gripped her hips before grabbing her ass and smacking it, she pulled her face towards his, connecting their lips as she begun to rock her hips.

Oh, wait, you a fan of the magic? Poof, pussy like an Alakazam (yeah) I heard from a friend of a friend That that dick was a ten out of ten

She could someone knocking on the door, but she could care less right with Peter buried so deep inside her as his hands that gripped her hips so tightly began to help rock her.

Baby, I need to know, mmm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🕷️🕸️💻~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes Y/N wondered what Peter had been like before he went to Empire State and joined his fraternity, and in this moment as they sat across from one another at one of the on-campus cafes, she figured maybe this might have been it with how he fidgeted a little.

"Nervous?" she mused, "this was your idea."

"I can't be nervous on a date with a pretty girl?" Peter remarked and she chuckled.

"Not after last night." Peter grinned and ran a hand through his fluffy, chocolate brown hair. "Besides, this isn't a date. This is you trying to convince me why I should go on a date with you."

"Sorry, it's just... I've liked you for awhile, but I didn't say anything because-"

"Because of Bucky?"

Peter looked down sheepishly and Y/N reached over to grasp his hand.

"And then when you two broke up, I didn't think it would be right to tell you because of how everything went down."

"You're doing a lot better than he did", Y/N said. "I appreciate that you waited, Peter. That's really sweet of you."

Peter grinned a boyish grin that Y/N couldn't help, but replicate back at him.

~

She had agreed to a date with Peter.

In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but think of the thoughts that others might have with her being seen with Peter. She examined her face in the mirror, trying to see if she had any wrinkles, age-related blemishes and sighed.

"You look stressed." Slightly startled, Y/N turned around to find Nat standing the doorway of her room with a curious look on her face.

"Just a little."

"Where are you off to? Hot date tonight?" Nat asked with a grin.

"About that", Y/N trailed off, looking at her outfit.

A white, blue-floral printed dress that cinched at the waist and was off the shoulder adorned her body with her keeping her makeup clean and simple, and her face loose and away from her face.

"Who's the lucky person?"

"Peter."

Nat was silent for a moment as Y/N felt the pit of anxiety in her stomach at the thought of her friend's judgement before Nat said, "well damn, didn't think the kid had the balls to make a move."

"What?" Y/N asked as she went to grab a pair of platform sandals.

"Anyone would working sense could tell the kid was eyeing your ass all the time", Nat nonchalantly said with a shrug. "Don't tell you didn't notice?"

"I noticed", Y/N defended, slipping her feet into the shoes. "I just thought it was because he was young."

"I also take it that you were with him when you disappeared from the club?"

Y/N's eyes widened as she looked away before Nat let out a laugh.

"Damn, you have to tell me all the details when you get back", Nat teased. "But I'm glad you're getting back out there again."

"You don't think it's weird? With me being older than Peter?"

"If men in their sixties can date women young enough to be their daughters, why can't you go on a date with a younger guy?" Nat shrugged.

Y/N gave Nat a smile and sucked in a breath.

"So, how do I look?" Y/N asked, posing for a moment.

"Like Parker will most likely fuck the shit out of you."

"Perfect."

Peter texted her not too long after that he had arrived and in an air of her favorite perfume, she met him out in the living room of the compound.

A sense of satisfaction fell over her as she noticed Peter's eyes raking over her body as she took in his appearance. His hair slightly gelled away from his face, a white button down shirt and black slacks framed his body.

They were alone in the living room, a rare event since the space always had at least one person present but apparently not today.

"You look amazing", Peter complimented, stretching out his hand and grasping hers.

He gently pulled her towards him as his eyes hungrily stared into hers.

"Thank you", she said with a small smirk. "I thought you'd enjoy this. Never worn it before."

Lost in their own world, they never noticed a certain figure hanging around the corner, seething as he watched Peter met her lips in a soft kiss.

His metal hand clenching into a fist as he turned away, fuming at the sight before him.

TAGLIST

@theoraekenslover

[jaal-ama-daravv]

dissecting the mortal emmrich argument scene (all routes)

dissecting the graveyard scene dissecting the mortal romance path scene how I think an argument reconcilation scene could've went emmrich x rook cinematic (mortal)

lich version dissecting the alternate romance path dissecting the argument scene (lich path) mortal vs lich romance path emmrich x rook cinematic

Emmrich Volkarin - Dissecting the Mortal Argument Scene

welcome back dearies

lets not dally with this one and get right into it -

starting strong with emmrich reviewing his will and testament/s -

important, but not yet, so do go on -

the emphasis on will tells us alot. coming from a storyboarding background, its easy to see why the emphasis was put on will. emmrich chose mortality, and will thereofre face death head on, as will rook. but due to rook being younger than emmrich (in any capacity), emmrich states that rook will outlive him. now he hasn't said it yet, but his fear is about to rear its head. keep in mind throughout all of this that this man is scared of how much he adores you.

but in the same sentence, we've got, "You've... grown to mean much to me..." - head over heels in love, rip my heart out and serve it to you in a platter, my heart, body and soul is yours type o' love.

I just wanna shake him, oh i just wanna shake him like a bag of treats, but very aggressively. he is so obviously LYING, rook makes a comment earlier in the game about how he is a SHIT LIAR. it sounds the exact same. BUT, and I say but with a hint of 'ah -ha!', lets read between the lines -

I care for you Rook! Deeply. - man has never been down as bad as he is - emmrich has never felt love like this. But there are such years between us - shut up rn I shouldn't heap you with that burden - HERE. he knows that Rook loves him, he can feel it. I imagine between quests they hold eachother's hand as the read books together on the balcony. as they make tea. as emmrich shows rook his mothers recipes. emmrich knows rook loves him, he just doesn't realize can nor accept how much rook loves him.

bonus, BURDEN ME, Im begging you, to BURDEN ME.

DIVERGENCE

god it hurt to replay this scene 3 times

Path 1 - Please don't worry, Emmrich.

he also broke my heart by worrying because i too, love him

fuck this line. i love you but look, I get where emmrich is coming from, but no. no no no, no no. whats fair would the world to be ending and being able to spend every waking moment in eachothers arms, to spend the final moments of 'what if' craddling your insecurities and nurturing love. instead we at the end of the world, arguing, because both rook and emmrich are fucking terrified to lose eachother. something about 'being fair' to someone by 'leaving' them irks meeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

solid and appropriate response

moving on because i have nothing nice to say

get his ass

emmrich is shockingly, overthinking the concept of death. ya know, that thing that cant be soothed or mulled over, pierces his heart and shakes his core? that, thing. yes shockingly, overthinking it. i get both perspectives here. Rook just wants to be taken serously and not for their age gap to come between the love they have finally found. emmrich so scared out of his mind he's trying to avoid it entirely. if you want a really gutteral playthrough before point of no return, pick this. I did, on my blind playthrough, it was a mistake, i cried alot.

unfortunately, very valid on both statement, but also true on both statements. Emmrich is both worried about Rook and insecure about dying. because either way, he loses rook, he loses his time with her. in this line of dialogue, emmrich is vry concerned with burdening rook with his death and the grief that will follow. Rook essentially tries to calm him in the worst way possible and it escalates. im not a fan of this dialogue path at all as the "at your age" comment is so out of pocket.

Path 2 - I mean something to you!

if you were to of told me that the purple rook option is the 'nicest' in these scenarios, I would...not believe you at all. It's still painful, but it's not an 'argument?'

strong start ngl

mans immediately defensive, but his tone of voice isn't raised like in the other scenarios. its more poised with care through it, more 'ugh, yes, i care about you, but this is about death'

in this dialogue path rook attemps to 'waylay' emmrich, aka, distract him and change the subject to something nicer, more comforting. though unfortnately, for people with crippling anxiety, nothing calms the mind when its in black and white mode.

eh, not what I would've gone with saying rook but ya know. eve before a battle, tensions high. still not great

emmrich wants to discuss being a burden to rook and rook is just not having it, im kinda into it.

again rook is trying to waylay emmrich into realising that he is overthinking things. however, to emmrich, this is real, rook may as well be dying in his arms rn. thats how real his fears are. we think back to emmrich being a child and losing his parents in a collapsed building accident. its likely he was there, and survived.

hence why it is so very important that we remember that his romance confirmation is the question, what would my parents want for me? and the answer is HAPPY WITH SOMEONE WHO CARES ABOUT YOU.

he is so terrfieid of death, and you and I both know, that when you have such a fear, it is amplified by 14747% when it is someone you truly care for. let alone the type of connection these soulmates have.

emmrich desperately pleading to talk about being a burden to rook, and rook is still just going, 'no', youre my burden now.

wee woo, a winner in my books because rook is not insulting his very existence or dismissing emmrich.

rook knows that emmrich is scared and would rather talk to him about being SCARED, instead of him being a burden because she fucking loves him and would never leave him.

rook is just as scared as emmrich but in this path, is trying to level with him. this is probably the one path where it concludes and I dont have a clear answer on who said the worst shit. i dont think any of them did, it was just riddled with concern, and a lack of communication.

Path 3 - Love scares you.

Rook pointing out the obvious. blunt and to the point. I do love that Rook is able to identify this straight away

Emmrich, taken aback by the comment by Rook, because it's the truth. he is scared because he loves rook. both by actually loving her and by how much he loves her.

"I can't... at my age" Is what this line is meant to be.

But once again, and we have discovered in previous posts, Emmrich has never considered himself 'worthy' of this type of love. And now that he has the love he has craved for decades, he considers himself too old. most likely due to his belief ssystem morphing over time to, "if it hasnt happened by now, it never will" probably in his 30's. Thats almost 20 years of doubt. We know Emmrich has been in relationships and involved with others since then, but nothing that even comes close to what Rook and Emmrich have. Keep in mind as well that Emmrich hasn't formed a connection with anyone in several years and has solely focused on work (i.e., lichdom) because what else do you do when you have given up?

straight to the point again

reiterating that this is a hard topic for him - kindness in this situation would desecalate emmrich and calm his mind, but unfortunately the end of the world takes no prisoners

man is terrified of love and the grief and vulnerability that embodies it

ouch

ouch

Rook's defensiveness and frustration reaches an all time high. rook wants the love of her life to tell her that he loves her, and emmrich doesn't want to burden his love with the grief that will embody her for the rest of her days. rook walks away feeling defeated, with a hole in her heart. emmrich is left with his overthinking thoughts, and most likely spirals.

Conclusion

In their facial expressions, and I have slowed them down to each frame per second whilst analysing, and both Emmrich and Rook share the same process of emotions after Rook's final statement.

Both Emmrich and Rook start out with a cross look on their face, eyebros tilted, eyes squinted, portraying anger, which is covering defensiveness, which is a defense mechanism for being vulnerable. After Rook says their final statement, this line is what 'pulls them out' of their defensive trances, but its too late, the damage has been done. Their facial expressions switch to a more, 'oh, oh that was just said', it turns to regret. the over arching theme of the game. they regret what they said, and their pride wont let them budge rn. the argument scene is important to the romance considering what happens next in the game.

"We'll talk when we get home, Emmrich. I promise." (the reconciliation line before fighting ghil)

hit me like a frieght train that did when i found out we were in the fade for weeks. emmrich, canonically, cries alone and has cold sweats at night when he is upset. do with that information what you will. it definitely happened when rook was gone. Hence why it takes Rook dissapearing in the fade for several weeks for their walls to collapse completely.

god fight, stuck in the fade, emmrich meticulously searching for rook, crafting the fake dagger, pulling them out.

At the end of the scene, Emmrich looks frustrated and devastated. the type of facial expression where it is clear he wish that conversation had gone differently.

Emmrich has low self-esteem, there is no simpler way to put it. This is apparent in the way he holds himself, in his mannerisms, and the way he reacts to rook expressing romantic interest in him. As two examples, consider the date with Emmrich, "apart from the compliment of your interest?", and in two flirt dialogue lines, he responds stating that he is surprised rook has shown interest in him. he wants this love SO BADLY, but he is so scared especially with how much death is around them. but emmrich is braver than he believes. it just takes, almost losing rook for him to embrace it.

phew, what a rollercoaster. ill have the mortal romance scene break down for you in coming days ♥

[haymitchsbunny]

Drink Me Away

dividers by @anitalenia

Series: Hunger Games (Suzanne Collins)

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x F!Reader

Warnings: Age gap, porn with so much plot, smut, vaginal sex, daddy kink, slightly weird dynamic, traumabonding(?), underage drinking/alcoholism in general

Summary: You were never more than just drinking buddies with Haymitch, until you came to him for consolation when your parents disowned you. He never planned to make a move, but you couldn't handle it. He was your favorite person- but that could never progress, right?

A/N: Absolutely no writing of the actual Games- just there for plot reasons. I've loved Haymitch for so long and theres absolutely no xreader fics with him, so I wrote my own.

Please let me know if i missed any warnings! happy readings ☆

You came from a well-off family, one that had never had to put their children in danger with tesserae, one that got the freshest bread, one that had no idea about their eldest daughter's after-school activities; heading to the hob as often as possible, paying anyone she could for a bottle of spirits. You began when you were 16.

Your only true drinking competition was Haymitch Abernathy- he had known your family for years, but as close as he was with your father, he had never known you. You never cared to approach him when he entered your house or when your parents spotted him in the square.

When you became a regular Hob attendee, you saw much more of him. Drinking competitions became a regular occurrence between the two of you when you were 17, praises of your tolerance always boosting your ego at 18. This lasted until you were 19.

Your father had a rough day at work. He had visited the Hob for the first time in year, accompanied by Haymitch. He had come to try and spot you before your father could and tell you to book it. It didn't work out that way.

Haymitch spotted you two seconds too late, after hearing the deafening screech of your father yelling your name across the Hob. You froze in place, glass in hand and arm on a man who's name you couldn't remember. The sounds around you died around somewhat, all eyes on the father-daughter exchange.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He hissed, approaching rapidly.

"I'm 19, dad, I'm allowed to have fun," you huffed.

"Since when is 'fun' illegal drinking in the black market?"

"A while now, actually."

"You're grounded."

"I'm 19."

"Then get your shit," he snatched the drink from your hand, throwing it back like water. "And get the fuck out of the house." He slammed the glass against the table, turning tail and leaving.

You sat, stunned at the confrontation. You slipped off your barstool and followed your father's path in a haze. You jumped when a hand clamped around your wrist, eyes flickering to Haymitch standing there, concern splashed through his features.

"What happened, sweetheart?" He questioned genuinely.

"Nothing, Haymitch, don't worry about it," you sighed, trying to pull away and not drag him into family business.

"I said 'what happened', kid. Not 'do you want to tell me'," he demanded.

"I- nothing," you stopped yourself. It was none of his business!

"I want to help you, let me, please." Well you never thought you'd hear him say please.

"My dad kicked me out- happy?" You fumed, a sudden rage building in your belly as you yanked your wrist away from him with all your might and began stomping off.

"You can stay with me," he called after you. "The couch is comfy." You turned on your heel back to him.

"You're kidding," you blanched. "Seriously? You'd let me stay with you? Why?" The questions spilled out, confusion and appreciation mingling.

"Because I care about your wellbeing, kid," he chuckled. "And if you're living with me you ain't gotta head all the way to the Hob for a drink or two."

And so began the complicated relationship between the two of you. Two unemployed day drinkers with no hobbies, no friends, and no family. You found out that your mother wanted nothing to do with you, and they wouldn't allow your siblings to see you. Haymitch had no family left alive. You were both stuck drinking away your sorrows together.

He didn't make you get a job- just run errands. Get food, get living supplies, relax. He got the liquor. He kept you from drinking too much, usually limiting you to three glasses at a time. A good majority of your time was spent cuddling. It wasn't weird. It was just.. comforting. For the both of you. Nothing weird.

The night you had moved in with him was the first time. You were vulnerable, and ended up sobbing on the floor with a bottle in your hand. He slipped it out gently, setting it on the ground next to you. He leaned down and picked you up off the ground with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms around his neck. He laid down on the couch with you in that position, letting you blubber and yap until you fell asleep.

When you awoke, you were squished between the back cushions and his body comfortably. His arms laced around your waist, holding you to his chest, his face in the crook of your neck. You dozed back off and when you awoke he was sitting at his armchair, unphased and watching the news.

it had been 6 months since that night. You drank with him almost every day, had two friends which were men you had drank with at the hob, and had hobbies and a black cat that roamed freely through Haymitch's house. Things were.. good.

And you were falling for your housemate.

He was nothing more than someone who you cared for. You were legal, yes, but he was so much older than you. He was a respectable man- sure, drinking the days away with a friend's disowned daughter wasn't exactly mature behavior, but at least he held you close every time you cried. But that was purely platonic affection, him caring for your well-being and holding you through the night being the only way he knew to comfort you.

That night, you drank your feelings away with him. He was getting louder and you were getting quieter, watching him carefully. Trying not to expose the vile thoughts running your mind into the dirt as he blabbed about his favorite liquor.

The heat in your tummy only got worse as you drank more, giving him professional fuck-me eyes by your 4th. If he noticed, he didn't say anything. But by the way his eyes never left yours, even when you looked away, you were sure he had.

"H-Haymitch," you hiccuped, certain you were bordering alcohol poisoning. You never drank this much- either you had enough or he stopped you. Not tonight. "I'm not, I'm really, uh," you couldn't get your thoughts straight. "Take me to our room, please." You managed to get out.

"Our room?" He questioned, brighter than you'd ever seen him. "Last I checked, we've never slept in it at the same time. If anything, the living room is our room." He sauntered over to you slowly, placing his bottle on the table in front of you. You reached for it and got your hand smacked. You were already feeling a little green.

"Just take me," you groaned, choking back a gag. "I'm sleepy." You whined at him.

"Sure you don't need to vomit, sweetheart? Do it before I tuck you in, if you would be ever-so-kind," you shook your head no, but then stood swiftly and shook your head yes. He guided you to the sink as you emptied the contents of your stomach in it. He held your hair. You tilted your head back up and turned the water on, washing the liquid away.

"Atta girl, let's get you some water, why don't we," you groaned and nodded, washing your hands and turning back to him as he handed you a bottled water. You chugged it, feeling a tad more sober, and you began to walk to the bathroom. Haymitch sat back down and swirled his finger around the lip of his cheap whiskey bottle.

You brushed your teeth and tongue thoroughly. You wouldn't have cared, you didn't. But something in the way Haymitch's fingers continued to linger on your skin made you start to. You exited the bathroom, swishing a bit of mouthwash through your teeth before walking to the kitchen sink and spitting it out there.

"Take me to bed." You requested, standing in front of haymitch in your big tee-shirt and shorts.

"Awfully bold now, aren't you sweetheart?" He rasped, standing almost as soon as you had asked. He walked towards you, leaning down and scooping you up bridal style. You were not expecting this- a belly laugh escaping from you as he began to walk you up the stairs.

You were drenched. Absolutely soaked through your panties. You just prayed he wouldn't notice anything off about your demeanor- maybe he would just chalk it down to the abundance of alcohol in your system?

"Haymitch! Do you have to be so rough?" You gasped as he nearly threw you and himself onto the bed. As you recollected yourself, he stood. "Leaving so soon?" You whined playfully.

"Not if you don't want me to, doll," he chuckled. His raspy voice sent a chill down your spine.

"Well, I mean," you sputtered. "I would- I don't, no. I don't." You finally got your words out, pursing your lips and peering up at him through your lashes as he laughed at you.

"God, you're a mess, aren't you sweetheart?" He mocked, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you. "I would almost think it's more than just the alcohol at this point, wouldn't you?" You inhaled sharply through your nose at the insinuation.

"What? No, I'm just really drunk, that's all-" he pressed his thumb to your lips.

"Quiet," he whispered, leaning closer to you. "Lying won't get you anywhere in life, sweetheart." God, he was so close. You could smell him, more than usual. Pine and whiskey, mingling into the sexiest thing you had ever had the pleasure to smell.

You whimpered out loud when he pulled away. He smirked at you. Your eyes went wide as he began stripping. "Wh- why, what-" You tripped over your words, nearly beginning to crawl towards him. He was clearly relishing in your newfound behavior.

"Calm yourself, doll," he chuckled, flopping down next to you on his bed. "I'm just getting comfortable- you wanted to sleep after all. Right?" He was asking for your honesty.

This was the make-it-or-break-it of the night- he was giving you the chance to tell him what you were feeling. "I, uhm," you began with so much confidence and hope. But then, your critical thinking kicked in. He didn't actually want you to respond like that! He was warning you not to act on your obvious desires.

"Yes, just want to sleep," you muttered, beginning to pull your shirt from your body. You stood before you could finish. "I'll go to the bathroom, sorry." You apologized, melancholy. He grabbed your wrist.

"You're fine, sweetheart," he was serious. Your heartbeat increased and you suspected he was feeling at your pulse with the way he was squeezing. "Lying won't get you anywhere." He intentionally repeated his words from earlier. A shiver ran down your spine and settled in your bones. You were on edge and dripping wet. You whimpered.

"Haymitch, please," you whispered. "Don't make me say it." You pouted at him with glazed eyes and he pulled you back onto the bed in front of him. You were looking at him with need in your eyes, and he nearly matched your expression.

"Well, if you're so tired, you'd better get ready for bed, right, sweetheart?" He rasped, and you felt disappointment settle in your gut.

"Oh, uhm, yeah, I guess," you spoke quietly, scooting yourself to be more comfortable as you reached under your shirt to unclasp your bra. You were looking away from him, trying to avoid facing the cause of the weight on your chest.

A featherlight touch on your abdomen drug your attention away from your failed attempt, arms falling to your sides as he replaced your hands, unhooking the garment with ease. The straps fell from your shoulders as he reached to the bottom of your shirt. You raised your arms and let him lift it, leaving you in nothing but shorts and your loose and unsecured bra.

You looked at him in curiosity. He noticed and smirked. "You have to be comfortable to sleep, don't you, sweetheart?" His gentle grip turned demanding and you gasped as he snatched the only thing covering your breasts. Your arms flew to cover yourself and he slowly reached to restrain your wrists, shifting his weight so he was holding himself over you, pinning your wrists into the mattress.

"H-Haymitch," you whispered, barely audible.

"Yes, love?" He matched your volume, leaning so close that you could taste the whiskey on his breath.

"Kiss me," you asked. "Please." He looked from your eyes to your lips, silent for a moment.

"There's no going back if we do this," he warned, staring into your eyes for any tell of your thoughts. All he could see was desire. The same burning desire that fuelled the hard-on in his briefs. "I won't pretend anymore, especially not if you let me do what I want right n-"

"Shut up and kiss me, Haymitch," you groaned, bucking your hips up and rubbing yourself against his clothed erection. "Before I change my mind." You giggled.

He pressed his lips to yours fervently, touching you in a way that all the hours you had spent together could have never prepared you for. His hands flew from your wrists and his weight shifted to his knees, pressing your heat to his cock as he practically dry-humped you through your makeout. He was rubbing his thumb into your hip, squeezing it so tightly but you relished in it. His other free arm was pressed into the pillow next to your head, keeping him from crushing you under his weight.

"Good God," he groaned out needily, pulling away from your lips to begin kissing and sucking on your throat. He threaded his fingers through your hair, tilting your head for more access to your quickly purpling neck. "Sweeter than candy, you know that?" He grumbled against your skin. Your hands were settled in his hair and on his broad shoulders, taking in every sensation.

"There's something I would like to taste," you smirked slyly, pushing at his shoulders gently, sitting up with him.

"Oh, really? And what might that be, darling?" He reached up and held your hands as they sat on his shoulders. You reached down to his briefs and pulled them until his cock sprung from the waistband. You gasped at the size of it, watching it slap against his stomach with a soft sound.

"Y-You're so," you stammered. "I'm not sure I can take all of that, Haymitch.." He chuckled, replacing his hand in your hair as he pushed you towards his cock, pulling you with him as he readjusted against the headboard.

"You'll learn." Was all he said as he pulled you until your lips were wrapping around his broad head.

"You're so," you spoke around his tip. "So girthy, Haymitch.." He laughed at your muffled words, spoken with his cock bumped against your cheek. You began to swirl your tongue around his tip and he sighed, letting his laughter die down. He shifted his hand and shoved his dick straight into the back of your throat. You gagged and sputtered, pulling off and coughing with your cheek against his rigid member.

"It ain't Haymitch to you anymore, sweetheart," he growled. Your eyes widened, not sure what his next words would be. "It's daddy. Got that, doll?" You gasped- how vulgar, why would he ever think you would call him something so, so-

"Yes, daddy," your own words caught you off guard. You picked your head up and proceeded to gag on his cock until you felt as though you could throw up. A few times, you were enveloped in pure bliss. Those were the moments when he groaned and shoved your head down so far that your nose buried in the thick hair at the base of his cock. You felt so used and proud of yourself.

"Atta girl," he praised, lifting your head off his cock and smirking at you. You were panting, saliva and precum coating your chin. "So gorgeous like this, should get you drunk like this more often." He kissed you gently, contrasting the roughness of which he just fucked your throat.

"Please," You begged quietly. "Please fuck me." Haymitch chuckled at you.

"Say my name, darling," he growled. You began to say Haymitch, but he interrupted you. "Not that name, doll." He corrected, grabbing you and pulling you on top of himself until you were straddling him. You were slightly caught off guard, grinding down on him and moaning. You were still clad in your shorts and panties.

"Please, daddy," you whimpered. He chuckled, gripping your hips and pressing you harder against him. "Please fuck me, daddy!" You cried out, throwing yourself forward into a kiss. He flipped you over, pressing your back into the mattress. He sat up and yanked your shorts down before ripping both sides of your underwear. You yelped in surprise and scolded him.

"Consider it a souvenir, sweetheart," he chuckled at you. "A souvenir from the first time you're getting fucked by me." You gasped, feeling him begin to align his thick head with your entrance. He pushed in slowly, and you cried out.

"Daddy! Be gentle, plea-" You were cut off by a silent moan getting caught in your throat as he bottomed out. "Mmhm, please wait a- a momen- mm." You could barely speak, he wasn't thrusting but he was circling his hips ever so slightly, giving you friction in parts of your pussy you didn't even know you had.

"Oh, I'll be gentle for now, sweetheart," he groaned, beginning to thrust gently. "But I can't promise that'll last." He kept a slow and rhythmic pace, bottoming out with every lingering thrust. You let out a sharp breath every time.

He picked up his pace, your breath hitching with every thrust. You did your best to hide any moans, but could barely contain yourself. He began suckling on your neck and unintentionally digging his fingers into your hips.

Then, he pulled out. You whined at the unwanted emptiness, but then he grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your stomach. He began pounding into you, faster and harder and deeper than before. You became a slurred, moaning mess. He didn't stop, ignoring all of your moans and pleas of pure pleasure.

He had already begun to bruise your hips, squeezing and pushing and pulling to fuck you oh-so-nicely, penetrating you over and over.

He started getting rough, leaning over you and removing his hands from your hips. He started fucking you with the force of his whole body weight, leaving you moaning like a whore underneath him.

"I'm close, sweetheart," he growled. "You?" Not taking a break to let you answer, if anything going faster.

"Ah, uh, mm-mhm!" You cried. "K-keep, nn, going! Please daddy!" and with that, he lost all tempo and fucked you ruthlessly. He picked you up, put you on your back, pressed your knees into your chest, and slid back in one smooth motion.

This new angle was so deep, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You cried out, reaching to Haymitch and gripping your hands in his hair.

"Daddy! Please, please, please, PLEASE," you screamed, begging for release with all your might. He reached down, playing with your clit for a moment, and you burst.

You felt the heat in your tummy rush to all your pleasure points, overwhelming you. Haymitch didn't slow down, but when you began to squeeze his cock like a vice, he pulled you close and started with short, deep thrusts.

You fell asleep immediately.

When you awoke, you were alone in the bed. You looked around groggily, no sign of your newfound lover. You slipped your feet to the side of the bed, attempting to stand. Your knees gave out, but you caught yourself on the bed.

You noticed that there was no trace of your earlier activities- a clean bed that you had just been tucked nicely into, your legs had no residue of either yours or his juices. Your hair was neatly combed.

You heard the sound of water shutting off, and figured Haymitch had been showering. A few minutes later, he exited with damp hair and a towel around his waist. You were intrigued.

"Good mornin', darlin'," he chuckled at the way you were looking at him. "Looking so eager for another round, huh?" He teased. You settled back into bed.

"Soon," you told him. " But for now, come lay with me." You smiled, scooting further into the bed to give him space. He dropped his towel and walked towards you. You dampened at the sight of his semi-hard cock.

He slipped into bed next to you, flipping you over so your back was to his chest. His cock rested between your legs, the head bumping your clit.

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he whispered, moving his hips and making his cock bump your sensitive nub. "That's what you wanted, right dear?"

A/N: hope you enjoyed! please leave asks/requests! BEGGING YOU!!!

[slimybeth69]

"i'll be here."

rating: explicit- for drinking and joel's dirty thoughts. This is pure fluff NO SMUT and it's probably kinda corny but I DON'T CARE.

summary: Joel wants to make sure your New Years Eve isn't lonely.

tags: jackson!joel, Joel's POV, no use of y/n, no physical description (just an outfit) fluff, so much fluff, pining, age gap, him being handsome and perfect, mentions of food, drinking, being intoxicated so maybe dub-con (but not really)

w/c: ~3.6k

a/n: the holiday was hard as hell this year and it really didn't feel like christmas at all, so i wrote this for myself because i was sad. i hope any of you all that needed Joel to come and sing you songs and play gui-tar find some comfort in this.

thanks for @creepycorbeaux for reading this over. thanks to @thelastofgala for those beautiful gifs and thanks to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

Joel wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing walking to your house with a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and his guitar in the other, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what you had said last night on patrol. 

“Whaddya end up doin’ f’Christmas?” 

The face you make when you look over at him almost makes Joel smirk for a split second. The way your nose scrunches and the corners of your mouth turn down slightly. Like you’re confused and upset with him ,and all he did was ask you a simple question.

Then you respond, “Whachya mean?” 

Joel doesn’t know how to answer that because… what do you mean? Your eyes are still squinted— like there is some sort of distrust in your soul. Like Joel is playing a joke on you right now.

“Uh, well… Ellie and I went to Tommy and Maria’s...” Joel is uncomfortable suddenly; he forgets that not everyone is as lucky as he is to have family here in Jackson. He doesn’t know you nearly well enough, so now he feels like an ass. He shouldn’t be asking you anything like that.

Or anything at all not pertaining to patrol. 

You don’t say anything for a while, you just hold onto the strap of your rifle over your shoulder, and then adjust your grasp on the reins with your other hand. “I just stayed home,” you answer him quietly, almost like you don’t really want him to hear you. “Made myself a nice dinner, read a book and went to bed.” 

That ‘put your foot in your mouth’ feeling creeps into Joel’s stomach and he wants to ask if you’d like to give him a nice rocket to his left jaw. He doesn’t stay quiet for too long, he doesn’t want you sitting in this awkward smog he’s created. “That doesn’t sound t’bad, honestly. Whaddya make?” 

Joel watches you out of the corner of his eye as you once again adjust the reins in your hand, waiting for you to either respond to his question or tell him to shut the fuck up. 

He wishes you would tell him to screw off because he never tries to make small talk, and this is why! He always regrets it!

“Just a venison roast with veggies from the greenhouse.” You finally tell him with a little more life in your voice this time, like you were actually proud of what you cooked yourself. “What did you and Ellie do at Tommy and Maria’s?” 

“Had a few drinks, ate some food. Nothin’ crazy.”

Joel didn’t have the heart to tell you that Tommy and him spent most of the day drinking and reminiscing, laughing about being young, stupid kids. Or that Ellie and Maria baked all day, listening to Christmas music someone had found a while ago. He didn’t wanna subject you to all that, knowing now you were home alone.

Since that night on patrol, Joel can’t get the image of you sitting at home on a holiday all by yourself. 

Probably being sad. 

There isn’t any particular reason why he feels so compelled to come knock on your door, there are plenty of other lonely souls that spend every holiday with no one else around. 

There was just a pull. Something inside of him that said go go go. 

Go to her.

He doesn’t really even know what he’s going to say to you if you decide to open the door for him. Hell, he’s not sure you’re even going to let him in! You’ve only ever gone on two patrols together. Y’all never really talk outside of that, but that’s mostly because he doesn’t see you around.

Not like he’s looking for you, or anything. 

When he knocks, it’s like his heart might hammer right out of his chest. Why is he so nervous? He’s just here to offer you a couple drinks so you don’t have to ring in the new year all alone. 

Ellie was with Dina and the rest of her friends, Tommy and Maria wanted to call it an early night because of the baby, and so Joel had two options: the bar, or sitting at home alone. 

It’s not that Joel didn’t like being alone. He had been alone since Tess, and that was still something he didn’t like to think about too much.

Too much loss for not enough of — whatever they had been. Losing her had almost been the final nail in the coffin, and if it hadn’t been for Ellie -

Don’t think about it.

Now Joel finds himself on your front porch, holding the screen door open with his large frame, and knocking lightly with the ass end of the bottle of whiskey.

From inside he can hear you moving around. His breath hitches in his throat when you finally open up for him. Joel watches your eyes scan him very quickly, taking in the picture in front of you. Your eyes go wide for a second like you don’t understand why he’s here.

Joel Miller on your front porch with a bottle of whiskey and his guitar. 

“Whaddya doin’ here?” 

Joel holds the bottle up for you to inspect closer as you wrap your arms around yourself like you’re trying to hide from him. 

Joel’s never seen you without your winter jacket, hat and gloves. Right now in your house, you have on a blue sweater, a pair of tight elastic tights that Joel wishes he could see you in more often, and the warmest looking socks he has ever seen.

His eyes scan the length of your body again involuntarily. His gaze lingers on your pants once again– so tight and they hug your curves (that Joel didn’t even know you had) in all the right ways.  

“Well, I reckon I came over here hopin’ you had cooked another roast, since it sounded so damn good when you told me ‘bout it on patrol–”

Joel continues his bullshit rambles about why he came over here as you start to smirk, and take a step back so the door can swing open a little wider and he can make his way in.

“The guitar?” You ask as Joel toes off his boots so he doesn’t track snow through your house. He hands you the bottle of whiskey, shifting the guitar between his hands as he takes off his jacket. 

“Figur’d if you wanted to share any of the food you made– I could share the whiskey… maybe play a lil gui-tar for ya.”

The last time he played the guitar for anyone besides Ellie– Sarah was still alive. 

Who is this man?

There was just something about the way you said ‘I just stayed home’. Joel was thinkin’ maybe you didn’t read a book and go to bed. 

Maybe you cried a little, missing whatever you remember from home. 

Joel knows all about that, all about the sleepless nights when you just can’t turn your brain off. You can’t stop thinking about the people that are no more, about how different things are now and how you’d give anything for them to go back to the way they used to be. 

Joel has Ellie and Tommy. Who do you have?

“You’re in luck because I did cook tonight,” you’re smiling at him and he thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen you smile, too. 

So many firsts for Joel, he feels like a teenager as you lead him further into your house - which is clean and smells phenomenally good - and into the kitchen. 

Joel hadn’t expected you to actually offer him food, he didn’t know if you cooked dinners like that for yourself all the time, or only on special occasions. 

You take the guitar from him and pull out a chair at your kitchen table. For a moment he feels like his brain malfunctions and he’s not sure how to react. 

“You can sit,” You’re already in your living room. “I’m just gonna…” Then you trail off. 

When Joel peers around the corner to check on you, you’re very carefully leaning the guitar against the wall, holding your hands out to catch it in case it leans too far one way or the other.

Joel feels heat creeping up his chest and neck as he watches you, slightly bent at the waist. The tightness of your pants— 

Nope.

Once you’re satisfied that the guitar won’t fall, you turn around and smile at him, even though he’s just standing there watching you like an idiot– blushing!

Blushing?

Part of him thinks this was the worst idea he ever had. How could you be doing this to him and you’ve done absolutely nothing? 

He should go home. 

“Sit!” You urge him to take a seat at the table while you basically prance into the kitchen to start serving him a plate. Everything is still sitting on the stove in the pots you cooked in.

You explain that you already ate because you weren’t expecting company. 

Joel almost tells you not to worry about the food, but then what would he do? Play guitar for three hours? Getting drunk and talking all night seems like a terrible idea. 

What the fuck was he thinking? This was the dumbest thing he’s ever done, it really was. 

He shuts his mouth though when you set down a plate of steaming food in front of him. 

“Dig in! I have more than enough if you want a second plate.” 

The way you talk so casually, like you’ve known Joel your whole life while you walk back into the kitchen makes him jealous. 

How are you so nice? Sweet? 

You haven’t even been here for four months and this is the first time either of you have said more than ten words to each other that didn’t have to do with patrol. 

It’s the way your body moves when you walk without all your winter gear on. You sway… almost like you’re floating.

Knock it off, old man. She’s half your age. 

Joel has to squeeze his eyes shut for two seconds until he hears your feet padding back to the table. When he opens them, you’re pushing one of the glasses in his direction.

“You brought the booze, so you have to pour it.” 

The smile on your face makes Joel feel a mix of pride and guilt. 

What are you expecting of him? He can’t give you more than just tonight. He knows that, he hopes you know that too.

Joel opens the bottle and pours each of you a decent, sippable glass.He should have poured himself less. 

Probably should have poured you less.

The food tastes better than Joel’s had in years. He even finds himself asking for seconds, something he rarely does.

You’re making small talk as he eats, asking about his travels and how long he’s been in Jackson. If he likes it here, how old is his daughter.

Joel decides not to tell you that Ellie isn’t really his daughter, because biologically she isn’t, but it hasn’t felt that way in a long time.

As he eats, and you chat, Joel starts to relax a little. Your presence is calming, and he finds himself enjoying your company more than he thought he would. He pours both of you another drink, his regrets of pouring less last time completely forgotten.

The food is gone and you’ve cleared his plate. But the two of you are still sitting at the kitchen table. He’s not sure if it’s the fact that this is another first— seeing you up close like this. In the light of your kitchen Joel can really take in your features; your cheeks when you smile, and the way your eyes light up when you laugh at some dumb joke he tells.

You ask him about his life before the outbreak, and Joel hesitates before giving a very brief summary of his past. He doesn’t like talking about it all, and he avoids bringing Sarah up completely.

Not tonight. Probably not ever.

You listen attentively and ask Joel questions that show you’re actually interested in what he’s saying.

Joel continues to pour the two of your drinks each time your glasses are empty and you never tell him to stop. You suggest moving to the living room where it’s more comfortable, and Joel agrees without hesitation.

Go home. This is going to end badly.

There is a fire going in your fireplace, and Joel can’t sit down until he puts another log or two on, and he has to move some things around to get it going again.

“I can do it myself,” you say from directly behind him, sounding a little offended.

Joel doesn't even look at you when he responds, "I know you can. Just helpin'."

When he finally turns around, you quickly look away. Joel can’t help but smirk and feel that familiar in his lower belly.

Had you been staring at him?

Joel watches as you sink down into the brown leather couch, curling up with your feet underneath you. He settles beside you with just enough distance to be polite.

“What songs do ya’ know?” Your voice is soft and your words are slightly slurred. The alcohol has definitely started to affect you, but Joel doesn’t think you’re that drunk yet.

Joel looks at the clock on your wall and it reads 10:45 PM. He can do this. An hour and fifteen minutes left, then Joel can escape.

Not that he wants to. He has to or something bad is going to happen. Something he regrets. 

Something you might regret. 

But when you ask him about songs, he can’t help but smile. The alcohol is going down too easily, way too easy for both of you.

Joel clears his throat. "Whaddya wanna hear?"

You shrug, your cute blue sweater sliding off one shoulder. Joel has to fight himself to keep his eyes on your face as you mindlessly tug the sweater up. It’s like you didn’t even realize it happened. You kept your eyes on him the entire time.

"Somethin' that makes you happy."

The fact that you’re moving your feet to tuck your toes underneath Joel’s right thigh is sending electric shocks to his brain. He leans and grabs the guitar off the wall– careful to not move too much so he can keep the contact between the two of you. 

Shit. What is he getting himself into?

Joel holds the guitar, fingers tracing the old wooden curves. It's been a while since he's played at all. The strings feel ice cold under his calloused hands.

Joel strum a couple cords, “Know a few songs,” he says, clearing his throat. “Might be a lil rusty though,” he smirks at you and gives you a sideways glance. 

You smile from behind your whiskey glass and Joel feels something shift inside him. Something he hasn't felt in a long time. 

Something dangerous.

Your eyes are glittering in the firelight— different than they had looked in the artificial light of your kitchen. It casts a warm glow across your face, softening the edges that Joel has only ever seen sharp and alert on patrol.

He clears his throat once again and continues to move his fingers along the frets. The first few notes come out slightly off-key, but Joel quickly finds his rhythm. He starts with a Garth Brooks song.

Joel knows he’s not the best at the guitar and he doesn’t play it nearly as often now that Ellie is so busy with her own life. 

You don’t seem to mind, and sometimes Joel misses a chord or messes up completely because he can’t stop glancing over to watch you watching him.

He starts to sing, his voice low and gravelly. It's not a perfect voice - never was - but there's something raw and honest in the way the words tumble out.

… Blame it all on my roots, I showed up in boots And ruined your black tie affair The last one to know, the last one to show I was the last one you thought you'd see there

You shift slightly, your toes still tucked under his thigh, and Joel catches you watching his hands. Even as he continues to sing. You never take your eyes off of him. Not once.

… 'Cause I've got friends in low places Where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away And I'll be OK Yeah, I'm not big on social graces Think I'll slip on down to the oasis Oh, I've got friends in low places

Joel's voice falters for a moment when he notices the concentration of your gaze. His fingers momentarily stagger on the guitar strings, creating a clashing note that lingers in the air for a moment before he continues.

You don't seem to notice, or care. Your eyes are locked on his hands, watching how they move across the guitar with a kind of reverence that makes Joel's breath catch. 

Joel finishes the song, letting the last chord ring out softly in the quiet room. For a moment, neither of you moves. You're still watching him, your eyes heavy-lidded from the whiskey, but there's something else there too.

Joel’s eyes fall on the clock on your wall and it’s only 11.

He’s completely fucked.

Joel becomes acutely aware of how close you are.

Your toes are still tucked under his leg, and the warmth of your body seeps through the denim of his jeans. Joel swallows hard, trying to ignore the way his heart is racing.

"Another song?" you ask, your voice soft and slightly husky from the whiskey.

Joel clears his throat. "Sure," he manages, repositioning the guitar.

Joel starts strumming again, this time a slower, more mournful tune. His fingers find the familiar chords of an old country ballad, something he used to play for Sarah when she was real little. Before the weight of being a single dad started to apply pressure.

The memories threaten to overtake him, but he forces them down, focusing instead on the way the light flickers across your face. He can feel the heat of your body against his leg, the whiskey making everything feel soft and blurry around the edges. His voice is lower now, almost a whisper, like he's singing just for you.

Joel sings a couple more songs, a few at your request.

"That was really good," you say softly, your eyes meeting his. There's something in your gaze that makes Joel shiver - it’s a weakness, a longing that mirrors something deep inside himself.

When he looks at the clock again it’s 12:30.

“We completely missed new years,” Joel points to the clock and chuckles. He had completely forgotten that’s why he came over here originally. Once the music started, everything else kind of faded away. 

It was just the two of you while the rest of Jackson, and possibly the rest of the world stopped existing in that short time. 

“I was havin’ a good time,” you’re still smiling at him and now he can see how glassy they are from the whiskey. 

“Y’look like y’were havin’ a good time, darlin’.” Joel smiles and starts to stand up from the couch. It’s not until he’s standing directly in front of you realize what’s happening, Joel watches your eyes shift and change. 

Are you panicking?

“Are… were–” you cut yourself off and shake your head, waving a hand at Joel dismissively. “Nevermind. Thank you for coming over.” When you turn to look at him, your eyes are rimmed with a glossy sheen. The whites of your eyes had turned a hazy shade of red.

“S’wrong?” 

You shrug your shoulders, your sweater falling off your shoulder again. You don’t notice and twirl your whiskey glass in your hand slowly. “Nothin’. I had a good time… just sad you gotta go.” 

Joel knows he shouldn’t, but he gently replaces your sweater, his fingers lingering on the warm skin of your collarbone for a moment before he pulls away. “I’m all outta songs, sweetheart.” 

“You don’t wanna stay?”

Joel swallows hard and then cuts you off, “For what?” Joel whispers it and you snap your head up to look at him, almost as astonished as he is. Joel knows that the liquor and the way you had been looking at him all night is a recipe for disaster. 

Make me leave, please. Kick me out. Don’t ask me to stay again because I won’t be able to say no.

You finish the last of your whiskey before setting your glass down on the coffee table in front of your couch. 

“You know what.” 

“I do… but we’ve been drinkin’... ‘n I don’t want ya’ regretti–”

“What is there to regret?” you whisper. Your hand snakes into his and Joel doesn’t pull his away or nothing. “You gotta know more songs.”

Joel sits down beside you again, sighing loudly like this is a giant inconvenience to him, but a part of him knows that this isn’t going to end–

Not at all. 

Once he takes you upstairs, it’s over for the both of you. It’s like he can taste it in the air. 

“One more,” Joel nods his head at you. “Then I’m leavin’.” 

He and you both know that’s not true. 

His fingers find their holds on the neck of the guitar and he looks over at you before he strums the first note. 

You shy away from him, tucking your toes back under his thigh. Joel lifts his leg slightly so you can slip them deeper under his leg. 

There's no stronger wind than the one that blows Down a lonesome railroad line No prettier sight than looking back On a town you left behind There is nothin' that's as real As your face that's on my mind

Joel changes the lyrics just a little, and he doesn’t know if you notice, or even if you know this song. He's not ready to sing about love, not at all.

He confidently sings you the next part though.

Close your eyes I'll be here in the morning Close your eyes I'll be here for a while

hopefully y'all had a better time than I did.

love you all so so much

[msunitedstatesjames]

You know, I gotta say, nobody has ever done the immortal boyfriend with a mortal girlfriend trope better than the Emily Wilde books. Their relationship isn't some edgy, drama filled sex romp where everyone is unbelievably hot and cool. (Not to hate on those stories if that's your thing, to each their own.) They're literally two people who respect each other for their respective abilities and personalities. Emily is a devoted academic with little interest in anything but her area of study (which sort of happens to include Wendell). Wendell, despite being an exiled prince of Faerie, is just a lazy, slightly ridiculous dude who likes nothing better than being cozy and following his girlfriend around while she does research. He also happens to be insanely talented with a sword and with magic, but somehow that never makes him seem like a badass, just even more ridiculous.

And though the Fae in this book are often described as sort of unearthly beautiful, it's really never meant to be sexy. They're beautiful by and large in a cold and terrifying way. Like, they might drag you around partying for a while, but then they slit your throat and hang you from a tree with no warning at all, and your friends and loved ones never know what happened to you. And the story does address this as a legitimate concern in terms of Wendell's and Emily's relationship. It's totally possible that he could some day become a mad King of Faerie, and her friends try to warn her repeatedly. Wendell is aware of their warnings, and in some stories the love interest would storm about in anger and disbelief that anyone could doubt him or he would laugh it off, but Wendell being Wendell, he's pleased that her friends care enough about her to voice their concerns and he acknowledges that this is a real threat. In the end, he knows Emily is a genius, and he trusts her to stop him from tumbling headlong into disaster, as she's done time and time again. And Emily does consider these concerns as well. But if Emily is anything, she's confident in her knowledge and abilities. She doesn't refuse to believe that her beloved is incapable of being like other Fae, quite the opposite, she acknowledges his occasional strange, uncanny otherness multiple times and the fact that he could go mad. She does everything in her power to keep this from happening, and we have every reason to believe that this will continue to be the case.

Then there's the age old issue of human/immortal age gaps that so many similar books face. Emily Wilde books side step this issue nicely by making Wendell very similar in age to Emily. He's not some 500 year old dude hitting on a 30 year old, he's a teenager when he's driven out of Faerie, and he ultimately comes of age in the human world at about the same time as Emily. This takes away the kind of creepy aspect of someone hooking up with someone young enough to be their great-great-grandaughter, and it gives a nice excuse for Wendell to be less cruel and mad than other Faerie monarchs as well.

And even though I keep saying these books don't make the Fae sexy, that's not to say the books are sterile and chaste. Emily and Wendell do eventually have a sexual relationship, but it comes along very naturally, from people who start out as coworkers and academic rivals and grow to become friends and then partners and then co-rulers and spouses. When they have sex it just feels like two people who love each other and enjoy each other's company, not like some wild outburst of edgy, sexy, repressed desires. (Again, no hate if that's your thing.)

And maybe the best thing about their mortal/immortal relationship is that Emily doesn't have to change herself or abandon everything she held dear for Wendell. Emily goes through a brief phase where she tries to fit into the beauty standards of the Fae, and then she quickly realizes that's stupid and she's better off being herself. And Wendell never cared about any of that at all, he's too busy just adoring her scholarly obsessions. Many stories ask the mortal heroines to leave behind their loved ones and lives for their immortal lover, but again, Emily Wilde does it better. Wendell immediately recognizes that academia is Emily's first love. He sets her up with a library, endless journals, and most importantly, multiple points of access to the mortal realm, where she can go to research in peace, continue her connection with Cambridge, publish her work, and of course, present at the occassional academic conference now that her career has taken off.

Emily Wilde got her man, a throne, and a flourishing career. Our girl really can do it all.

[barleyo]

Girlfailure.

Older BF! Toji X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: i hate toji sm, why did i write this :( anyways, to any of you who like this sick fucker, i hope this does him justice

Tags: pwp/some plot, age gap, cunnilingus, fingering, scumbag toji, overly cheesy pet names, etc.

Wordcount: 1.2k

When you came home for spring break, the only two things you could think of were one, how many hours would you have to work to afford the upcoming semester, and two, how badly did you just fail all of your midterms?

The answers to those questions became extremely clear as you crunched the numbers in your head. Sitting at eleven-fifty an hour for eight hours a day, five days a week, you'd just barely scrape by with tuition and textbooks. And as far as midterms went, shit, at least you tried. 

If you were more delusional, you'd say your professors had it out for you, but ever the realist, you knew you simply fucked yourself over this time. Hours of studying in the library, and for what? A fourty-two in calc and a fifty-point-something that your organic chem professor didn't even have the decency to round up? 

Stepping into your boyfriend's— was that what he was?— apartment, you felt the desperate craving for a square root curve on those exams, and dick. Always dick. 

All a financially irresponsible, deadbeat father of an older man could offer a "bright" girl like you was just that. Lots of it too, seeing as how you stuck by Toji. 

He was nice enough to invite you to stay at his place over spring break, for the purposes of having a warm cunt nearby at all hours, and to get you out of the shitty dorm room you stayed in any other night. 

"Oh, smart girl's back," Toji said, lazily murmuring at you from his couch. "Had a nice drive?"

You dropped your luggage at his door for him to bring to his bedroom later. His muscles weren't just for show, so you reckoned he could get off of his fine ass and put his thick arms to work. 

"No." Tired feet shuffled your body over, plopping you over his lap, face down. "Well, yeah, the drive was fine. I just don't feel like much of a smart girl."

He snorted indifferently, hardly registering your words as his greedy hand rested over your ass.

"Teacher's grading you too hard, or are y'just gettin' lazy on me?"

"Tch. Did you even graduate, asshole?" You pushed yourself up onto your elbows. "What do you know, anyways?"

Unimpressed, Toji yanked a bit of your hair. Gentle, but enough to force you to look at him. 

"Don't be a little shit. I did, and even if I didn't, it's the real-life stuff that matters. Bein' a book nerd never did anyone any good." He dropped your hair. "Street smarts and all that."

Street smarts. Jesus, what a joke. You cringed internally, remembering how the soon-to-be dropouts from last semester would claim that's what they had. All well and good to be street smart, you thought, seeing as the path you were going down would probably put you on the street. 

This was just the beginning. Whether you were overthinking or not, you were sure that if you didn't pull through for finals, you'd end up failing out. Maybe you were pretty enough to strip. Could be a back up plan, if only you could lose the "Freshman Fifteen" you quickly gained on campus, compliments of the stress eating and cheap, sugary energy drinks you found yourself addicted to. 

"I'm gonna fail out," you said suddenly, nibbling your bottom lip. "I don't know why I thought I could 'do' college. My dad was right."

Toji hated when you got like this. Not because he cared about your stress or ever-present anxiety. That's actually what he liked least about you, that and the fact that your college was forty, far minutes away. No, he hated having to deal with your self-doubt. No time to throw a pity party. No patience to reassure you.

That's the hard part about dating younger girls. He got older, and as he liked to think, wiser, but they stayed young and emotional. Such a drag. A real bummer for a thirty— okay, thirty-eight— year old man who was simply too old for this shit. 

If he wanted any, though, he knew he had to play the game. 

"C'mon, tootsie, it's not all bad. You're a smart one, yeah? And y'only got a couple months until you're done for a bit."

"Hmph."

Damn it. Women. Nothing he said would be good enough. At least there was something he could do that he knew would help. 

"Oh, I missed that baby. That's real good." You felt his warm breath fan over your thigh as his fingers plunged into you. 

Curl and twist, pump, pump, pump. That's all he could really do for you, you knew it. 

If you could ignore how well Toji made you feel, you would probably see what a bum he was. Living in a shitty apartment at his age, gambling and drinking as if money was no object, smoking enough to stain his couch with the smell of ash. Even knowing what his profession was couldn't quite deter you. 

In a life where everything was so dull, so predictable, you sort of liked the danger of a man like Toji. The risk. The wild ride that was his life. You weren't exactly Mary, Queen of Scots, but the old you would have a few questions about your current relationship with the destitute brokey that was glued to your cunt. 

The you now, through, was holding on for dear life, soaking up every second of slick, wet warmth that Toji could give you. Thick fingers prodded deep, curling against the tip of your cervix. Thick scent from a long gone cigarette lingered in the air. 

He was amused really. He would laugh, if he wasn't so desperate to be in your pussy again. Times like this, when he got a taste of you, made him wish he would go and visit you on campus. He wouldn't though, god knew he wouldn't. Every couple of months was good enough for him, lord forbid he use up his mileage to drive out of the city.

"Stop pushing me away," Toji mumbled, pulling your hand from his forehead. "Brat."

His tongue was sharp and purposeful. There were times when he would be messier, play with his food a little, but he was focused. Just not in the way you wanted him to be.

He set a rhythm for himself, a strict guideline. Every time you sucked in a deep breath, he pushed his tongue down harder against your clit. Every gasp was rewarded with a curl of his fingers. Each squirm was punished by a little nip. 

It worked, bringing you close to the edge, just to deny you. If you had it your way, his tongue would lather you and glide over your clit uninterrupted. Sadly, he was in charge, and as the bastard he was, he wanted things his way. That meant a bullying force behind each pump of his fingers, and a teasing swipe of his tongue to ease the brutality, just a bit.

There was no way he could hold you off forever, no matter how fun that sounded, so eventually, when you hands started to grip his hair too tightly, he gave a loud slurp to your pussy. 

If orgasms were money, you'd be a Vanderbilt, but they aren't. For the time being, you were happy enough just being Toji's girl. 

"Hey, To'?" Your messy hair and smudged mascara were a prize to him, a totem of his raw, sexual prowess. He hummed in response. "So, about my textbooks for next semester...?"

He sighed deeply, dragging from his well deserved post-fuck cig. 

"We'll see. Maybe if my parlay hits, doll."

[nikalaeva]

It's easier for me to criticize than to praise, but I'll try. And to make it more interesting, I'll compare my favorite fantasy romances with most empty waste of my time.

Your Feyre became High Lady by marriage, devaluing the title of Cursebreaker. She had magic of seven High Lords, but it didn't help at all in most important war, and she has no friends or allies of her own.

My Jude became Queen of Elfheim because the land chose her, saving from death. She outsmarted her father, the most cunning and cruel general, ruled in secret as seneschal, and made advantageous alliances.

Your Rhysand is supposedly the most powerful, surrounded by strongest fighters, his army is the best of all, but he couldn't protect his wife's sisters, fucked up with Book of Breaths and almost lost the war.

My Cardan is a pathetic loser twink, very young and almost always drunk. But he is cunning as hell, saved the woman he loved from underwater captivity, avoiding the war, pal up with her allies while being their prisoner, and created an entire island.

Oh, Jude is still human. And Cardan is a true fairy, not just a guy with pointy ears.

Your Feyre left the man she died for in a fucking message and married her rapist. My Rose went to a strange, faraway country to save her man, but to kill him if she couldn't. Not to turn into a bloodsucking killer to be with him forever - kill him.

Your Rhysand thought for a second that age gap between him and his wife more than between her and their son. My Dimitri was going crazy and pushing away his love because he was her teacher just several years older. He is more responsible than 500+ years old ruler.

Oh, and despite being coolest, Dimitri became a monster. And Rose had an "alternative" - Adrian, who wasn't turned into an abuser and asshole, to show how beautiful love with Dimitri is.

Your Feyre hasn't done a damn thing for women (or anyone), her "feminism" is to be proud of role as a thief, saboteur and half-naked toy of a powerful man. My Vasya Petrovna (I'll die and rip anyone's throat out for her) dresses up as a boy and defends her right to be a witch, challenges ancient monsters, and saves everyone she can with her brains, courage and unbending will.

Your Rhysand chose to die with his mate, leaving his son an orphan, and at 500+ years old he's an infantile sexoholic. My Morozko, the ancient god of death and winter, make a deal with his enemy, a monster of chaos, choosing to be an eternal prisoner without memories about his love, saving woman that he loved as he could.

Whoa, Morozko didn't rape her in order to "protect" her. And it wouldn't be Vasya who would have to change - he would have become a mortal for her. One PG-13 sex scene was hotter than all the sex in ACOTAR series.

Why am I only comparing to Feyre? Well, she's the FMC, three books were enough to show her. I just don't believe Nesta would go to HoW with Cassian, and not decide to die in slums or run away. Elain is so side character that most of discussions about her will be fiction, not canon. Rhysand and Cassian were not even close to any of the men mentioned above. They are not otherwordly, old creatures, not morally gray, but only insulting to women whom they supposedly love more than life.

Romance in ACOTAR is vulgarity, violence and gaslighting, feminism is a mask and illusion, and the characters are too "cool" and therefore boring and flat.

Respect yourself. Read books where authors give a care about the plot, worldbuilding and development of unusual, fairytale love.

[talaok]

Keeping up

Pairing: No outbreak!Joel Miller x reader

Summary: You convince Joel to go on a hike with you, but being that he's 56 years of age, he gets home barely in one piece, which means he needs a massage, which may lead to something more...

Warnings: age gap (reader's 25 and Joel's 56), a lot of sexually allusive jokes and stuff, and very soft and fluffy smut (unprotected p in v sex)

"Keep up, Grandpa!" you called, turning around and catching him taking yet another break.

He had his knee popped to the side and his hands on his waist as he pretended to take in the view while really just trying to calm his heavy breathing

He had fallen behind a while ago, but kept insisting you continued at your pace.

It took a lot of convincing to persuade him to go hiking with you, some unconventional, but definitely effective methods of persuasion were used, and finally, this morning, you had managed to make him cave in.

It was only a two-hour hike, but he was acting like he'd been walking for ten days and nights with no food and water.

"I'm coming!" his voice sounded through the woods.

"You sure?" You couldn't help but grin, watching his chest rising and falling way too quickly

"I just need a moment"

Letting out a breathy smile, you retraced your steps on the makeshift track to reach his side.

"Tired?" you asked, already knowing the real answer, and the one he was gonna give you.

"Nope" he lied, making you chuckle.

He was so predictable

"Ah" you hummed, mocking him "so you're choosing to walk ten steps behind me"

He turned to look at you, his hazel eyes sparking with mischief

"Well, I don't mind the view these leggings of yours are giving me..." he arched a brow as his hands reached for your ass through the fabric.

"perv" you smirked

"Yup, that's me" he nodded, bringing you in for a kiss.

He could never get enough of you.

He had no idea how he had managed to make you fall in love with him, and so he acted accordingly, kissing and touching you every chance he got in case one day he was gonna wake up and this turned out to be just a dream.

"at least you admit it" you joked, biting his bottom lip playfully.

Oh how he fucking loved you

"C'mon now, we're almost there" You smiled that stunning smile of yours that made him almost forget how tired he was.

"You said that an hour ago too, angel" he reminded you

"I did, didn't I?" you smirked, starting up the hill again, and leaving him behind to wonder how the hell he had ended up there.

But then of course he knew... his ability to say no to you seemed to disappear every time his cock was in your mouth.

__ __ __

"goddamnit sweetheart" he groaned, laying on the bed face down.

He didn't bother to change into his clothes simply because he couldn't, the towel around his waist was gonna have to do.

By the look of it, your advice of "A hot shower will help you out" hadn't really worked.

"Poor baby" you cooed, setting your book down on the nightstand to pay attention to him.

"I'm never hiking with you again" he sighed "I'm hurting everywhere"

"I'm sorry" You stifled a smile at his pained expression "Here," you said, getting an idea "How 'bout a massage?"

"Mh that does sound good" he considered

"Yeah?" you asked, getting on your knees beside him

"Yeah darlin'"

You smiled, as you gingerly straddled his hips, not wanting to hurt him.

You rubbed your hands together to make them hot and then gently pressed them against the very top of his broad back, slowly starting to make your way to his shoulders to rub his pain away.

He groaned in pleasure beneath you

"fuck that feels good" he breathed once you applied more pressure.

You chuckled "I've heard that one before"

"Mh, I'm sure you have, angel" he grinned, closing his eyes as you took such good care of him.

You smiled as you started massaging his lower back too, drawing circles with your thumbs and relaxing his muscles one at a time.

"You're really good at this sugar," he spoke, as his hand found your right leg and started caressing it slowly to try and pay you back a little bit.

"Why thank you" Your lips pulled into a smile "I'm a woman of many talents you know?" you murmured sultrily, bending down to gently press a kiss to his neck.

"I know that very well, darlin'"

"Good" you nodded, finishing up his back "Now turn around"

"Yes ma'am" he obeyed immidately once you got off of him, just to climb back immediately once his back was on the mattress.

His heart couldn't help but skip a beat at the sight above him.

You looked so fucking sexy drowning in that shirt of his, and the fact that he was pretty sure you only had a pair of panties underneath it, only made it worst for him.

You didn't seem to notice the way he was practically eating you up with his eyes as you started massaging his chest.

God those hands of yours deserved their special place in heaven

He watched you biting your lips to concentrate as your fingers made all his pain disappear for just a moment.

Suddenly, he noticed a smirk splitting your face as you looked up at him.

"I see somebody isn't as tired as you" You raised an eyebrow before gently rubbing your core against his growing bulge.

"oh fuck" Joel breathed heavily 

"Sweetheart..." he murmured pleadingly as you did it again

"What?" you teased

"Trust me I'd love to fuck you right now, but I'm afraid that if I move one single muscle I'll have to go to the emergency room"

The chuckle that left your throat sounded more like angels singing to Joel.

"Who says you have to move a muscle?" you asked mischievously, as your hand slowly reached for the towel around his waist, undoing it in one swift move.

"Oh darlin'" he grinned lazily, "I'll never know what I did to deserve you"

You laughed softly at how happy he looked, before getting rid of his towel and taking his cock in your hand.

He was throbbing already

You stroked him a few times before you let your fingers find your panties and quickly pulled them to the side.

You wasted no time sinking down onto his length.

Giving him this massage had worked you up just as much as him.

his groans merged with your moans at the motion

"f-fuck" you muttered

No matter how many times you had sex with him, your pussy never really got used to the stretch.

"goddamnit darlin', you feel so good" he breathed

You smiled down at him before deciding to take off your shirt.

You didn't want it to get all sweaty...

He groaned even louder at the sight.

Your perfect tits bare before him, your perfect cunt hugging his cock so well, your perfect mouth parted as you sucked in ragged breaths, and then finally your perfect blown-out pupils staring down at him like he was the most handsome man on earth.

You were a fucking vision.

"fucking christ angel-" he growled as you started moving up and down his shaft "Look at you" he whispered, not able to stop his hands once they reached for your waist "How are you this fucking perfect?"

You just let out a breathy chuckle, continuing to bounce on his cock.

God, it felt good.

He always managed to hit that spot inside of you that made you feel better than anything else.

Your nails clawed at his chest, no doubt leaving some scratches, not that he minded... he loved when you marked him up.

Suddenly, you sped up your movements, making him tighten his hold on you

"Jesus Christ sugar" he groaned "How do you still have any energy left?" 

I mean every muscle of his had given up even trying, while you... well while you still had the energy to ride him like a damn pornstar.

And he would have liked to say this was the first time something like this had happened, but the truth was that the difference of age between him and you had made itself heard more times than he liked to admit.

He wasn't a teenager anymore, his back wasn't the same, his stamina wasn't the same, and you... Well, you were the exact opposite.

You were unstoppable, and fuck but you were insatiable

Before you, Joel got laid maybe once every six months, and now he found himself having sex at least twice a day.

Not that he was complaining obviously, it's just that he sometimes still wondered how the fuck you managed to pull it off.

"That's what being 25 will do to ya" You smiled, leaning closer to him to kiss his neck

"Mhh" he hummed, as one of his hands reached upwards to grab your tits "You're saying I'm old?" 

The soft sound of your laugh tickled his ear 

"I'm saying I'm young" you answered, rubbing your nose against his beard until his mouth was right in front of yours and all you needed to do was kiss him.

One of your hands had to grab at his shoulders as you felt your orgasm approach.

"oh fuck baby" you breathed, ghosting his mouth

"you coming?" he asked, watching as you shut your eyes, lost in pleasure.

"mh-mh" you managed to nod, before you hid your face in the crook of his neck and bit down onto whatever piece of skin you could reach.

"That's a good girl" he praised as his left hand found your butt and gave it a good squeeze "Give it to me angel" he urged

And without another word, you did, squeezing him and making him come just as you were coming down your own climax.

If he had to be honest he had been close since you had taken off your shirt.

"mhhh" you hummed satisfied, as you leaned away a little to look at him.

His lips looked way too delicious, so for good measure, you met them with yours for a brief moment.

"goddamnit sweetheart, you're gonna kill me one of these days" he smiled, gently stroking your sides

"Yeah..." a mischievous smirk erupted from your lips "and that day might be today"

"What are you talking about?"

You grinned

"Ready for round two cowboy?" 

[chanandlersstuff]

Bubble and Moose, pt 2.

Pairing: Hayden Christensen x Reader.

Story summary: The timeline of how Hayden gradually fell in love with her until he was madly in love, to the point of no returning.

Chapter summary: Having her close to touch was divine to him. That magic moments with her had left him wanting for more, wishing for more.

Word count: 13.036

Warnings: Not much actually, age-gap, a slow burn and a "steamy" part.

Author’s note: Hello again, thanks a lot for the paitence and the love I've been reciving. I strugle a lot with writing when I don't have the right motivation and that was what happened with this part, I had it for months but only one part was missing and it didn't feelt right to post it.

With that being said, I'm nor sure, but there will be two more parts to this story and I will gladly recive request of what could happen or what you want to see, on the comments or in messages. The timeline will span until the press from Ashoka serires.

gif credit @hayden-christensen

← Previous part // Next Part →

December 2020, that time of the year.

December was the month of festivities, everyone knew that. It was the time to make your house feel cosy and prepare for the celebrations of Christmas and New Year's with your family. Hayden watched as Bubble struggled to set up her Christmas tree, and he couldn't help but laugh at her failed attempts.

“You are not being very supportive right now, Moose,” she said, playfully scolding him.

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “But this is really funny.”

She dropped the lights, that were around her, in frustration and glared at him. “How so?”

“You look like one of those elves from Rise of the Guardians with the lights all around you.” He kept laughing, his eyes shut tight as he crouched from his laughter.

Hayden’s masculine laugh was so contagious that she started laughing too. He had a point, she did look like one of those elves in the tangle of lights and limbs.

She was so concentrated on the talk that they were having while she tried to fix the mess she made at the beginning of the year when she took all the ornaments down, she ended up making a bigger mess and got caught in the middle.

While they kept laughing, she almost fell and that was when his laugh died. "Please don't bash your head on the floor, Bubble." He said looking at her a little bit worried.

"Relax, I'll be careful." She said, grabbing the arm of the sofa to brace herself as she walked to her seat and worked on the mess of lights. "You already put up your tree?"

"No, Bri and I will put up together next week when she stays here, so I'm waiting for her." The soft smile on his lips when he talked about his beloved daughter made her smile too.

The conversation kept going as she kept fighting with the lights making him laugh. "What are you going to do for the special day?”

“It’s my turn to host this year, so we are going to celebrate here.” He shrugged. “You?”

“At my sister’s but it’s a tradition that the kids come here to look for their presents, so that’s why I’m currently an elf tangled in lights.” She giggled and he smiled at the sound. “New year’s is my turn to be a hostess.”

They kept talking, telling each other what they planned to buy their respective families and every little nonsense that passed through their minds.

Finally, Christmas arrived and Hayden and Briar were sitting criss-crossed on the floor ready to open the presents, his parents watching them with a smile on their faces. The little girl had a bunch of presents around her, opening one by one with sparkles in her eyes. 

“I think this one you are going to love.” In his hand, he had the package he had received a couple of days before and a big smile on his lips.

With all the excitement of the world, Briar opened the present and squealed with delight. In her hands were an Anastasia book and a tiara. “I love it!”

Hayden laughed, “Want me to put on the tiara?” The little girl nodded excitedly. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” she hugged him.

But he shook his head, embracing her. “It wasn’t me, Bri.”

“Was it a Bubble?” He smiled, nodding. “Send her a picture, Daddy, and thank her for me!” Hurriedly the little girl posed with the book, the tiara on her head and a big smile on her lips for him to take a pic.

Obeying quickly he took the pic and when he was about to send it, Briar put a present on his lap. “Open it, it’s from Bubble too cause it has the same wrapping.”

Delicately, he pulled the wrapping paper off and immediately laughed at the packaging. “Oh God.” Briar was jumping up and down to see what it was so he gently took the present out of the box and showed it to her, making her laugh too.

In his hands was a spatula with the face of Darth Vader and the handle was a lightsaber and to put a cherry on top a matching apron that resembled Darth’s uniform. They were all giggling but his attention was on the note inside the box. 

To take your cooking skills to the dark side, but not too much cause it’ll burn. Happy Christmas Moose and Princess, wishing you all the best and lots of tasty food. 

With love, Bubble.

“Come on Daddy, take another photo.” Briar pulled from his hand and he, being such a girl dad, did as she said.

As father and daughter posed, everyone around them was interested in who this Bubble was and why she had them smiling so much. 

Her phone rang in her pocket, pulling her away from her conversation. 

Hayden M

Photo

Photo

Photo

She loves it and says thank you very much

A smile appeared on her lips when she saw the photos. In the first one, Briar was posing very princess-like with the book and the tiara in her head. The second one was a father-daughter selfie, Hayde was showing very proudly his spatula while Briar hung from his chest. The third one made her heart warm, and her knees buckled a little if she was honest. Hayden poses with the apron with a big smile looking directly at the camera. 

It was my pleasure, truly 

By the third photo, I’ll assume you liked yours

Of course, we find it very funny.

I accomplish my mission then 

And you? Did you like yours?

I’m going to open it as soon as I arrive home with the kids

Cause it’s tradition that we open our presents together

True to her word, as soon as she arrived at her house the kids ran towards the tree dragging her with them. “Come on, hurry up!” Daniel kept pulling from her hand, making her laugh. While Brianna and Daniel were sitting around the tree piling up their presents and opening them, their parents and she were sitting on the couch eating snacks and chatting.

In the sweetest way ever, Bri put a box with wrapping paper of bubbles in different colours and sizes, probably chosen by Briar, on her lap. “From…” Her sister peeked over her shoulder. 

“Not your business.” She stuck her tongue out to her as she pulled the box closer to her chest, making them all laugh.

Delicately, she pulled the paper off and an immediate smile appeared on her face. Hayden’s gift was perfect, a beautiful frame with a Singin’ in the Rain phrase, tracing the edges she read. “The show must go on!' Come rain, come shine, come snow, come sleet, the show must go on!” 

He remembered their conversation all those months ago and that made her happy, and a little teary. In the back, it had a note that kept the smile on her lips. He’s too fucking sweet.

“Someone special?” Her sister asked. 

The smile on her lips was answering the question itself, but she just shrugged. If her concentration wasn’t on her phone, she would have seen the looks between her sister and brother-in-law.

Bubble

Best present ever 

Seriously?

You liked it?

Love it

You are the best present giver

I guess by the wrapping paper that Briar had something to do with it too

Yeah, she hand-picked it and all

Photo

Hayden opened the photo and smiled. It was a selfie of her with a big smile, to the point her eyes were almost closed, and behind her the frame on a big bookshelf. 

Already placed in the important part of my house

Love the big smile, looks amazing on you

And I’m very happy that you like it

January 2021, you and me from the night before.

First day of a new year, the first hours technically. Hayden was coming back from celebrating with Briar at her mom’s house when an idea appeared in his head, so a little detour from his house was due.

He parked his car and took a deep breath, drumming his fingers against the wheel. What are you doing Hayden? The clock on the dashboard reads 01:55 AM. Grabbing his phone, he went to his contact and bit his lip nervously. 

Should I go in or is it too much? I don’t need to walk up there, maybe it's better if I just wish her a happy new year with a call. Hayden's gaze shifts to Bubble's house, where he can see the faint glow of lights through the windows. He takes a deep breath, contemplating his decision. Fuck it. 

One beep, two beeps, thre-. “Hello Hayden, hi!” Her cheerful voice reached his ears.

“Hi, Bubble.” It was impossible for him to not smile. “How’s everything?”

The noise died down a little, “Amazing, how was your night with the Princess?” 

“Very good, she had a blast and used the tiara as a part of her outfit.” They laughed. “Listen,” she hummed. “Are you home?”

“Yeah, we are all here, the kids asleep.” Hayden's heart races as his idea of seeing her possibly come true.

“Can you possibly…” he drummed his fingers against the wheel again “Step outside for a bit?” I'll go and wish her a happy new year, just like any friend would, just that.

“Outside my house?” She asked, confused.

“Yeah…” Instead of an affirmative response, it sounded more like a question.

“Sure, give me a second. I have to grab shoes.” She said quickly. 

The possibility of hugging Bubble, feeling her warmth and sharing a moment of celebration, made his heart race for some reason. Hayden glances at himself in the rearview mirror, adjusting his appearance, making sure he looks presentable before stepping out of the car. As soon as his feet touched the pavement, he took a moment to steady himself before walking towards Bubble's front door. As he made his way there, his heart was pounding with anticipation. 

When she opened the door, a mixture of surprise and delight washed over her face, Bubble stepped outside her house with two glasses in her hand. The second they saw each other a smile instantly spread across their faces. 

She looks absolutely beautiful. Simple tailored black pants hugged her waist with a corset with sparkly details and embroidered patterns, her hair was free and slippers were on her feet. Her lips with wine stains that gave them a particular colour that made her even more beautiful in his eyes.

"You didn't have to come all the way here, Hayden. You could have just called me," Bubble said, her voice filled with warmth.

They closed the distance between each other. "I wanted to see your face," Hayden replied, his eyes sparkling with affection. “And wish you a happy New Year." 

Bubble's eyes softened, and she couldn't help but smile. “I wanted to see your face too.” Putting the glasses down, Bubble pulls Hayden into a warm embrace without hesitation.

Hayden's worries melted away as he held Bubble tightly, feeling the warmth of her embrace, his hand gently tangling in her hair as she rested her face on his chest. Her jasmine scent hit his nose and made his knees tremble a little. Oh how fucking much he had missed that smell, her smell.

Maybe it was all the wine in her blood and how fucking gorgeous he looked under the lights on her porch, but she snuggled against his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat syncing with hers. They stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, savouring the quiet and tender moment. 

After who knows how long they, against everything their feelings screamed at them, pulled away from each other, but not too much. Maybe two feet away from each other, not much.

“Let’s just toast.” Quickly she grabbed the glasses and gave him one with a wink. “Don’t worry, it’s kids' champagne.”

Hayden laughed, making her smile more. “Always thinking about everything.”

“To what we toast?” She pursed her lips.

He mugged her, pursing his lips. “To... friendship?” Friendship? Really? Are you an idiot Hayden?

She groaned, tilting her head back, “Oh, come on, Moose. We can do better than that.” Her tone teasingly. 

Hayden chuckles, realising Bubble's playful challenge. He took a moment to think, his eyes dancing across her features and involuntarily he took a step closer to her again. “To taking chances.” He asked softly. 

Bubble's eyes lit up and she took a step closer to him too, her voice filled with warmth. “I like it.” Moving her glass towards his she smiled, “To taking chances, and embracing the unexpected.”

They clinked their glasses together, the sound echoing in the quiet night. As they sipped, their eyes locked, a mix of anticipation and affection passing between them.

How beautiful her eyes look under these lights. “I'm glad I took the chance to come here tonight, Bubble.”

She smiled bigly, “Me too, Hayden. I missed seeing you in person.” It was as if her hands had a mind of their own, or they were led by her heart because she hugged him again. He didn’t oppose and rested his cheek on top of her head as her arms circled around his waist.

March 2021, jealousy? Jealousy.

Hayden was at the coffee shop near her office, ready to pay for their breakfast when a hand beat him to it. “What the-'' Ready to turn around to face the owner of the money, the sweet voice he heard even in his dreams reached his ears and that hand he was dying to have intertwined against his own appeared on his line of vision. She was standing by his side with a smile on her lips. Oh how much I missed that smile. “I was going to pay for that, you know.” 

She put the change in the tip jar “Well hello to you too, Hayden” and moved out of the way.

“Bubble.” He smiled at her and she did not only smile back but kissed his cheek too. Oh how soft her lips were but how ephemeral the sensation was on his skin. Come back, come back and kiss me all over again so I can cherish it properly. 

His eyes fell on her outfit. Blue Converse, black tailored pants and a black tank top with a big light blue shirt on top. 

I have a similar shirt. He couldn't contain his brain from creating the scenario of her with bed hair, his shirt, nothing underneath and her sweet smile. 

It took Hayden a few minutes to come back to the real world but when he did, he just cleared his throat and blinked a few times. “You didn’t have to.”

But she simply shrugged. “It was our breakfast, let me treat you, Moose.” Our breakfast, how sweet.

The opportunity to tease her was right there. “How do you know it was our breakfast?” He asked with a brow raised.

She put an offended look on her face. “You go around buying every girl breakfast?” Her hand travelled to her chest where her heart was. “I’m wounded. And here I was, thinking I'm special.”

You are special. I only bought breakfast for you. And Briar and my mum and maybe my sisters if I’m in a good mood. “Cocky much?” They laughed. 

After ten minutes or so, they got their order and jumped into his car to drive the rest of the way to her office. She talked all the way while he basked in her presence, her jasmine scent invading his nostrils, hoping it would stay on his car, and how clear her voice sounded in person. After Facetiming for months, her clear sweet voice was music to his ears. Having her close to touch was divine to him. That magic moment at the beginning of the year had left him wanting for more, wishing for more.

The scene was so fucking domestic, so cute. They were riding to work together, her attention on him, her body angled in a certain way that the sun hit her in the eyes and even though the visor was down her height prevented it from properly functioning.

As soon as they reached the studio’s garage he opened the car door for her, every door that came their way actually, as the gentleman he was, and talked a little bit about everything on their way to her office.

“Hello, you two.” Charlie’s voice brought them back to the real world. “Nice to see you again, Hayden.” The boy smiled her way, “Boss” and shared what seemed to be a knowing look with her. From the corner of his eyes, and above her height, he saw how a pink colour adorned her cheeks, it suited her.

She placed a coffee in front of the boy and rolled her eyes. Did she always carry that extra coffee? I was so lost in her face that I didn't notice the extra cup? Trying to not think much about it, a little scared of the answer, Hayden followed her to the office.

For some reason her office still lacks photos, it was more personal than, almost, two years ago that was for sure, but still no photos. The drawings were there, the video camera too, even the jasmin- she stopped in her tracks and he almost crashed against her. “Sorry, Bubble.” He said with his hands on her waist. Her look was fixed on the little desk where the jasmines were supposed to be but instead, there were red roses on it. He tilted his head to the side confused. “Are you okay?”

She nodded but he didn’t buy it because she was looking at those flowers like they were carnivorous and in any second they would eat her. His hands were still on her waist and for some reason, drew soft circles there, on top of her clothes, and that seemed to bring her back to the real world. Taking a deep breath she got close to them, but not too close, just to grab the card that was peeking from them.

His blue eyes watched her attentively as her nose was scrunched, which only meant that she didn’t like flowers. “Friend?” The curiosity was killing him. Who was sending her flowers she clearly didn’t like?

To her scrunched nose, add pursed lips and a bored look on her face. “Ex actually.” She said through gritted teeth.

“Still in touch, so civil.” He mumbled taking a sip of his cup. Why did you say it when it was clear that wasn’t the case? Are you jealous?

The offended look on her face was not fake that time. “Not even close.” The card on her delicate fingers was made a ball and went directly to the bin below her desk. “I don’t know why he sent them.” Her reaction had him raising his eyebrows. Was she mad? That was her mad face? She purses her lips when she’s mad? She’s so fucking cute when she’s mad. “Charlie, can you come here and take something away please?” She said through the phone.

The dad alarm on his brain, the one that told him when something was wrong or something was dangerous, went off. “Are you allergic?” He said quickly getting up from his seat and walking towards her, stepping between the flowers and her, looking attentively at her face in case she stopped breathing suddenly and stretching his hands to take her from her forearms, afraid she would fall. 

She frowned at him but with a smile on her lips. “No, I’m not.” Her hands were on his forearms too. “Relax, I’m okay.”

He looked at her just to be sure and then to the flowers right when Charlie entered. “They are pretty.” It was true, they were, but Hayden preferred jasmine.

“I guess.” She shrugged and both of them looked at her confused. “I actually don't like them.” The brunette frowned his brows. “They are too cliché for me.” Hayden laughed and she did it too, still holding onto each other.

The moment that was created around them would become a core memory, the sunlight entering through the window illuminating the space, the synchronised laughing, the warmth of the other’s hands on their skin and, as if they were fifteen all over again, the racing hearts with flushed cheeks.

His laugh died a little earlier than hers and her laugh was melodic to him, even though it wasn’t. How beautiful you are laughing in my arms. 

Nothing broke the moment, it died down on its own. Slowly, almost reluctantly, they let go of each other and kept having breakfast. Ewan came at some point to see her, to discuss something about timing and stayed with them chatting. 

“How’s the Jedi training?” She asked, looking at them.

“Wonderful.” “Really fun.” They said at the same time and she smiled happily. “You should come, you know,” Hayden added and Ewan agreed but her head was tilted to the side, frowning. “To see how everything is going.”

“Oh yeah, I will go around one of these days but you are not going to make me train.” She warned the two of them, pointing a finger. “I do not train, under any circumstances.” The pair laughed and nodded. Hayden was with them, her, until it was time to do the wardrobe fitting so he left them to discuss their important matters. 

Trying the Jedi robes again, the saber in his belt, every little second of that process of putting on and taking the costumes made him extremely emotional. Going back to being Anakin put him on a roller coaster of emotions and now, more like for a while, he had to throw into the mix the feelings he was having for her. To say his heart had been going through a lot lately was an understatement.

The fitting was finished and he was walking through the studios, going back to her office, to see if she wanted to have lunch with him when he bumped into Ewan. “Hey, how did it go?” 

They walked side by side. “Good, lots of memories.”

The Scottish nodded. “Yeah, tell me about it.” They laughed. “The sabers and everything, it’s amazing.” The brunette nodded. “I felt like a kid all over again.”

Hayden felt the exact same way, not only because of all the filming and reminiscing but with his feelings. He was a fifteen-year-old with a massive crush again, her mere presence around him made him smile like a boy and felt light. Thinking about her and there she was, standing a few metres away from them talking with someone. 

Whatever his dear friend was saying didn’t reach his ears because his attention was solemnly on her, like always. She looked uncomfortable, her body language screamed it and he noticed it right away, even if her back was towards him. She wasn’t facing directly at the person in front of her, her arms were crossed and she kept looking around, like searching for something, for someone. Who’s that? He stopped walking to inspect the scene, and Ewan stopped a few steps ahead of him.

“Who’s that?” Hayden interrupted his friend, who looked where he was looking and shrugged. “That one, right there. Who is it?” His eyes were fixed on the guy in front of her, too close to her for his liking, and that kept trying to get her attention.

“Don’t know.” Ewan shook his head “Why?” and raised an eyebrow looking at him.

But the question fell on deaf ears because Hayden kept looking towards her and when her eyes connected with his, his protective side emerged. She seemed relaxed as soon as he found him but a second later she raised her eyebrows, opened her eyes wide and then looked back at the guy in front of her. Walking past his friend, he went directly towards where she was. 

He stood tall, making him seem taller than he already was, chest puffed and chin raised. In a few strikes he was standing behind her, his hand found his rightful place on her back and she relaxed against him as soon as he arrived. “You alright?” His tone was low for her to only hear, his breath ghosting in her neck, but no response came and instead only a few seconds' look from her that clearly indicated that it wasn't the case. “We were looking for you, are you ready to go?” He said a little louder.

The guy in front of them shut up the second Hayden arrived, but he didn’t pay attention to him. His eyes were on her and only her. Please tell me if something is bothering you. “Hey, I’m Tyler.” The guy stretched his hand towards him.

Blue eyes looked at him up and down and kept staring him down. “Hayden.” Oh, how he wished that his voice mimicked Vader’s at that moment because it would, for sure, make the idiot in front of him fear him, but a strong grip would do the work. All that with his left hand was still on her back and her jasmine scent calming him down, her warmth keeping him centred.

She looked up and gave him a tiny smile. “Tyler was leaving and so were we.” We, as in her and me. Not you dude. “Goodbye.” She didn’t wait for an answer and turned around, walking in another direction. Leaving him missing her closeness.

Hayden stood there, for a few seconds, still staring him down with a serious look on his face. The only moment he didn’t look at him was when his eyes landed on the nearest exit and then slowly looked back at the guy. Take the hint and walk away. Not wasting more time he followed her, leaving the guy behind, where he was supposed to be.

When he reached her side, his eyes raked her up and down, searching for some bad thing. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Hayden. I'm fine." The soft use of his name grounded him. Say my name again, say it a thousand times, say it in French. 

He nodded. "Who was he by the way?"

Her mad face became present in an instant. "My ex." She turned around to look at where he used to be.

"The roses guy?" A frown appeared on his face and she nodded. "What did he want? What was he doing here?" The protective mode was on again.

She looked back at him, with a tiny smile and her head tilted to the side. "He came to a casting and wanted to say hi or something like that, I don't know and I don't care." Her tone was firm, "I'm just glad you came and he is gone" but the softness of those words was something else.

You want me to die? You surely want me to have a heart attack. Unnoticed by him, the smile that appeared on his lips was worthy of an obvious fool in love and his hand almost cupped her face.

The cute moment was broken when her phone started ringing, he took a step back and let her answer. How close were they standing to each other? His mind was racing, his heart was racing and, being honest, he needed those few minutes without her near to properly be a functioning human being again and not a fool led by his feelings.

"I got to go, there are a few things I need to take care of at the office. But I came to see how the fitting went." She played with the phone on her fingers.

How sweet. "Great, lots of feelings." That’s an understatement. 

Her hand travelled to his bicep "Tell me over lunch?" and gave it a little squeeze with a smile on her lips.

Caught by surprise, he raised his eyebrows, and before she could back down he nodded. "Of course, yeah." They smiled. "My treat though, cause you already paid for breakfast, Bubble." 

"Deal." She said laughing, he did too.

His eyes followed her while she walked away, a smile on their lips and Ewan approached him with a smirk on his lips. "Well, I didn't know you were the jealous type."

"What?" He gave her one last look before turning to his friend, blue eyes with clear confusion, who had a flat look on his face. “I’m not jealous.” Hayden shook his head frowning. “I’m being absolutely reasonable, she looked uncomfortable so I went there to help." He defended himself with a tone a little higher than his normal one. 

The Scottish, with his hands in his pockets, raised his shoulder and pursed his lips. "Sure, she looked uncomfortable, but admit you were jealous." 

The brunette pursed his lips too. "I wa-”

"And you were a little protective too." He interrupted him.

"Wha-”

"I get it." Ewan shrugged again. "I would be the same way with my wife if something like that happened."

He frowned. “What? Who talked about marriage?” His mind was racing at 100mph.

But his friend laughed. “Look at you all worked up.” Even though Hayden tried to deny it, Ewan kept laughing. “You are so jealous.”

“Am not!” Am I? No, not at all.

“Yes you are, and to that add the worst liar for being an actor too.” His friend slapped him on his shoulder and walked away. Leaving Hayden standing there while he felt like his friend slapped him with facts left and right in the span of seconds.

Jealous? Me? Pff. Never. But wait, maybe I am. No, I can't be. Definitely not jealous. She looked uncomfortable with that guy and I did what I thought best, just that. Nothing more.

May 2021, little intruders on set.

The shooting started a few weeks ago, but Hayden was going to keep training for the fighting scenes, determined to make them perfect.

The day was almost coming to an end and he didn’t see her at any given moment, her too engrossed in filming and him with the training. So, he was making his way to his office, to see her at least for a few minutes.

“Hello, Charlie.” The boy behind the desk smiled at him. “Is she inside?”

“Yes, go.” Charlie had a mischievous smirk on his lips, but he paid no mind to it.

Walking a few metres from the reception to her office, he could hear the happy squeals from inside and her characteristic laugh. After knocking on the door, it died down. “Come in,” Her sweet voice said.

As soon as he set his feet inside, surprise gasps received him. “Anakin.” Being recognized as Anakin never fails to make him happy, after all, it was a character he held dear to his heart.

Sitting in the middle of the office, papers and coloured pencils scattered around the floor, were two kids, a boy and a girl, looking at him in awe. He looked at them with a smile on his face and walked further inside the room.

With them, sitting with her legs tangled was with one of her big happy smiles. “Kids, Hayden.” She caressed the heads of the little kids. Oh, what a sight. “Hayden, Brianna and Daniel.” They were looking at him with big eyes in awe.

They were quickly standing up and he crouched down a little in front of them to look at their eyes, he extended his hand. “Nice to meet you guys.” They shook it quickly. “I heard so much about you two.”

From up close, they looked identical. “Really?” They asked at the same time.

“Yeah, your aunt talks all the time about both of you.” He could see how she smiled at the scene. Brianna blushed at that and Daniel smiled happily. “Are you visiting the set?” The pair nodded. “And? What do you think?”

“Amazing,” Brianna said. “Everything is incredible,” Daniel looked at him as if he was a superhero.

Hayden saw her getting up and extended his hand to help her. When she was on her feet, he pulled her closer to hug her, the scent of jasmine in her hair invaded his nostrils. “Bubble.”

Her soft giggle reached his ears. “Moose.” The nickname made him laugh. “What are you doing here?”

They stood close, the two kids looking at them with eyes opened big. “I didn’t see you today, so I came to say hello.” He wanted so badly to move the loose strand of hair out of her face.

“Did you know that she used to have a poster of you in her room?” Daniel said, looking at him with curious eyes.

“Really?” Hayden raised an eyebrow, teasingly, at her and the little boy nodded.

“I was a kid.” She tried to act as if it was cool but the blush that started creeping to her cheeks gave her away, “Where did you get that?” and looked at the twin surprised.

“Mum told us,” Brianna said, still looking at Hayden.

“Why that doesn't surprise me.” He heard her mumble under her breath, that close they were. “What else did she tell you?”

“That you were a nerd.” The little girl said, raising her shoulders nonchalantly.

Her mouth fell agape. “I was not!” She said offended. 

But the little boy nodded. “She said you were.”

Hayden was finding the whole exchange hilarious. “Your mother was a cheerleader, of course to her I was a nerd but I wasn't.” She crossed her arms, like a little girl when she was mad.

“You kinda are.” Brianna looked at her with a puppy eye look and Hayden laughed, she had to bite the inside of her cheek to not laugh too.

She crouched down to look at them, “I'm the one who can get you free tickets to Disneyland and conventions, so if I were you I would think my next words very carefully.” and narrowed her eyes threateningly, it was clear it was a joke by how much she was pressing her lips to not laugh.

The kids looked at each other for a few seconds “You are our favourite aunt” and said with sweet smiles on their lips, too sweetly.

She pressed her lips to not laugh. “Say that your father's sister and we are cool.”

They shook hands. “We always say that to her.”

Hayden laughed at the conversation. “You two are my favourites.” She kissed their heads.

“Now go with Charlie.” The twins happily obliged. “And don’t cause havoc!” She said, popping her head out of the office. 

After exchanging some words with Charlie she looked back at him for a few seconds and then at the grown.

He waited for a few seconds but the need to tease her beat him. “So....you were a nerd.”

A groan left her lips and he couldn't hold the laugh that escaped him. “No, I wasn't.”

“What were you then?” Tell me about you, I want to know everything.

Nonchalantly, she pursed her lips “Normal” and walked towards the mess of papers and pencils on the floor.

“You were one of those that get along with everyone?” He raised an eyebrow and helped her pick everything up.

But she shook her head “Far from it,” making him frown “but I didn't stand out so it didn't matter.”

Impossible. “I highly doubt you didn't stand out, but okay.” She rolled her eyes. “If you were normal, what makes your sister say you were a nerd? Apart from being a Star Wars fan.”

The brunette picked up the pencils while she picked up the papers. “She was a cheerleader, everything apart from that was a nerd to her.”

“Come on...did you do cosplay?” His blue eyes were full of curiosity.  

“No.” She shook her head.

“Dungeons and dragons?” Again, another shook off the head. “Maths tournament?” 

She looked at him biting the inside of her cheek, a little embarrassed. “Champion for three years by my hand.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Impressive, very impressive.”

The fact that he wasn’t teasing her, or making fun of her, made her visibly relax “I know” and a smug smile appeared on her lips. 

“Theatre?” Different departments of his school years popped into his brain.

“Had to.” The frown on his brows made her explain. “I can't act to save life, but I had to do it so I could gather experience.” He nodded understandingly. “I acted in a play as a tree once though.”

They laughed. “The most beautiful tree for sure.” It escaped his mouth too fast for him to even think what he was saying. But it’s true. The blush on her face made him smile proudly. “The yearbook?”

“No, but I had a friend that was there and I went to help him out sometimes.” He passed her the pencils “Thank you” and she smiled at him. 

“The band?” He got up and helped her stand up too.

The tingles from hugging her minutes ago were still there and touching her hand for a second time, even for a few fleeting seconds, made his knees weak. Teenager behaviour Hayden. 

She shook her head. “I can't even play the triangle.” They laughed.

“I’ll teach you to play the piano, sometime.” He winked and she blushed. She leaned on the table and he stood in front of her, their height difference more prominent. And he loved every second of it. “Any sport?” He asked, looking down at her.

Her lips pursed, while she nodded. “Gimnastic, three years.” Flexible, that’s interesting.

Horny behaviour, Hayden. Shaking his head to get rid of the inappropriate thoughts. He asked again. “You have a thing for number 3?”

But she looked curiously at him, for a few seconds, tilting her head to the side. “It's my lucky number.” She shrugged. 

Hayden paid attention to her outfit. White simple long-sleeve t-shirt, showing off the curves of her torso, green cargo pants, that fitted her well in the waist and her Doc Martens. He loved her style, since day one.

“Back to school topic,” she nodded, “you weren't a nerd.”

“Told you,” she said in a singing tone, making him roll his eyes. “I just went there, passed grades as fast as I could to finish and got the hell out of that place to go to university and do what I like.”

He looked around her office. “Seems like you are doing it.”

A smile appeared on her lips. “The crazy little Star Wars fan that I was would have jumped on the couch the moment someone told her this is what she was going to do when she grew up."

He laughed at the idea of a mini her jumping all over the place. “I would have loved to meet her.” His tone was so soft, almost like the way she was looking at him. “More than anything because of my poster on her bedroom wall.” 

She groaned, hiding her face in her hands, “Oh god” and he laughed, pulling her into his embrace. It was a natural response, the magnetic feeling in between them was too much to deny it. The need to have her in his arms, just like at the beginning of the year, was stronger than his critical thinking.

Unknown to him, the deep sound of his laugh, the way his chest moved against her cheek and the way he was holding her, all made her weak on the knees. The mix of his perfume and cigarette drove her straight to her wildest dreams, that took place on that specific July night but the only difference was that they were under the same roof, in person. Close enough to tear each other's clothes. 

He was coming down from his laugh when he looked down at her, blushing adorning her cheeks, and she looked up at him. Your eyes are beautiful. Your smile is one of my favourite things in this world. A smile plastered on their faces.

“I'm going to kill my sister because those kids are too cute.” She said, still a little embarrassed about the poster incident. 

Delicately, as if she was the most expensive work of art in the whole universe, he tucked that wild strand of hair behind her ear. “Don't change the subject.” You are still holding her, Hayden.

Your embrace makes me dizzy. After a few seconds, where she was lost in his eyes, trying so hard to not lean into his hand, she spoke again. “I already told you. I was a fangirl, what else do you want me to say?”

Everything about you used to do. You used to kiss the poster? I can kiss you now if you ask me. Technically, if I lean down a little, I coul- WHAT?!

“I thought you were a fan of the movies, not me.” 

“Don't feel special Moose,” he raised an eyebrow. “I had a poster of Obi-Wan too.” She laughed at how he rolled his eyes.

“And that's how you kill the mood.” He acted offended and took a step back. Come back. Hold me again. Hold me for a million days. But they laughed. 

“For real now,” she looked sincerely at him “I am a fan of the movies but you were my favourite of them all” and winked an eye.

That simple gesture, brain short-circuited him. “Thank you, Bubble.”

Feeling a little bold, she took a step closer to him, head tilted to the side. “And I used to have a massive crush on you.” Such a liar, you still have a massive school-girl crush for him.

If his brain was short-circuited, now there must be smoke coming from his ears. “Used to?” He choked out. Would you like to have it now? So that way I'm not the only one having a crush. 

“Yeah,” she nodded. Is it me or suddenly we are in the sun? And his lips parted a little, her eyes falling there.

The cute, a little hot, scene was cut short by her phone ringing. “Shit.” She mumbled under her breath. “It’s Charlie, I gotta take it.” 

He cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, yeah” nodding. 

They talked for a few minutes, she even laughed a little and then hung up. “They are in the gift shop and Charlie is afraid they are going to try to buy the whole thing.” Hayden couldn't laugh at that. “I’m going to pick them up and take them home.”

“I’ll walk with you.” He said quickly. “I’m finished with the training for today, so I’m heading out too.”

She nodded “Yeah, okay” and pointed over her shoulder. “I’ll grab our things and we can head there.”

After a few minutes, they were walking out of her office. He held the door open for her, as usual. While they were walking around the set, they talked about their days and how they went.

The brunette found it extremely cute how she moved her hands while she explained something. Too absorbed in her storytelling and too focused on him, he hopped so, she didn't notice the golf cart coming behind them nor the prop guys in a hurry towards them, so swiftly Hayden put his hand on her back and swapped places with her.

She was walking on the wall side and him on the street side. His hand still ghosted on her back, guiding her around. The feeling of wanting to kiss her skin from that night in July still burns in his memory and now it was mixed with the closeness they were having. That definitely would hunt him in his sleep.

June 2021, girls team.

His day had started early, having been woken up by Bri due to her excitement for the day that awaited them. The little girl asked him like a hundredth time if she was finally going to meet the Bubble in person and each and every time he said yes with a smile on his lips. 

 “I can’t wait to see her,” Bri said as she jumped in the passenger seat. 

Hayden chuckled, “I’m sure she feels the same, sweetie.” 

And it was true. He had to carefully pick the day to bring her to the set and Bubble helped him, clearing the entire day to just shoot Anakin scenes. Briar was young, she still hadn't seen the dark parts of the Star Wars prequels, she knew her daddy was Darth Vader but had not seen it with her own eyes.  

His heart beat with anticipation at the day they were about to have. Briar had been the centre of his universe since her birth, and bringing her to his workplace, to the one where he had to be his favourite character, the one he held most dear to his heart, felt like merging his two worlds. 

As he was preparing for the upcoming scenes, sitting in the makeup trailer, with Briar spinning on the chair next to his, the familiar scent reached his nose first and then he saw her. 

“Oh my!” She gasped. “Why did nobody inform me we have a princess on the set with us today?” Quickly her eyes met Hayden’s and gave him a fleeting wink before looking directly at the little girl.

There she was and a smile appeared on Hayden’s lip, just like in Briar’s. 

“Bubble!” The girl smiled at her, Briar said with a glint in her eyes. As if she knew her from her whole, short, life, the girl jumped from the chair and hugged Bubble’s legs.

Her melodic laugh reached his ears as she caressed the little girl’s hair. “Hello Princess, it’s lovely to properly meet you.”

While the two of them talked, Hayden eyed her without the worry of being caught. She was wearing blue cargo pants, her characteristic Doc Martens, a black tank top, two braids keeping her hair tamed and a black cap to complete the outfit. 

“Are you excited for today?” Bubble crouched down to Briar’s eye level and the girl nodded eagerly. “I have a very important task for you,” the girl’s eyes widened. “If you are up to it, that’s it.”

“Of course,” the little girl put her small hands on her shoulders, making the grown-ups laugh a little.

Oh, how sweet was the sight of that smile? “Splendid,” Bubble said. “Would you be my assistant director today?" she asked, her eyes twinkling. 

Briar nodded enthusiastically and then looked at her father. “Did you hear Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetie,” Hayden nodded, smiling, something he seemed to not stop doing since the jasmine-scented woman walked through the trailer doors.

“Can I Daddy, can I?” She pleaded, even though she already agreed. “Please, pretty please.” She ran to him and clutched his legs. 

Caressing softly her hair, which matched his in tone, “Of course, sweetie.”

Bubble’s heart melted in that instant; she had seen Briar grow through her cell phone screen during their daily Facetime, and seeing her in person, with Hayden treating her so gently, with so much love in his eyes, felt like witnessing the most tender and authentic moments of life, the kind that were too precious and real to be scripted. How I wish I had my camera here.

Without waiting for a second, Briar ran back to her and grabbed her hand. “Okay, I’m ready.” She nodded confidently and looked up at her smiling.

“Perfect,” Bubble touched her nose. “Mr Christensen here, has a little more time in the make-up chair?”

He scrunched his nose at how she called him. It sounded strange coming from her lips, he had been Moose for so long, Starboy prior to that, and Hayden in more personal moments, and he didn’t like to be called anything else than that. Okay, maybe one or two other ways far more personal, but never Mr Christensen. 

“I think so, yes.” Briar nodded. 

It was true, Hayden sat not long before she arrived and the process stopped entirely when she walked through the door, and he still had to pass through the wardrobe.

“You are correct, Miss Christensen,” he played along. 

Bubble smiled widely at the situation. “Very well, we should be going to see if everything is prepared on set and we’ll see you when it’s time to shoot, Mr Chistensen.” 

He saw how hard she was trying to keep a serious face, how hard she was pressing her lips to not laugh and how with a simple raise of brow from his part almost made her burst in laughter. 

“Very well,” he repeated. “I’ll see you when it’s time to shoot, Directors,” and reassured. 

He saw them walk away hand in hand pleased and if it meant seeing the big smile on Briar and Bubble's faces, Hayden would play along for the rest of the day.

After another two hours, Hayden was finally making his way to the set and met Ewan there. “Where’s Bri?” The Scottish looked around.

He told her how his own daughter left him the second Bubble appeared, but rather than being sad, he found the whole thing funny and cute. Loving how despite Briar’s shy ways, much like him, she seemed to shine in the presence of the jasmine-scent-cheerful woman.  

“Ah!” Ewan laughed. “Another Christensen falling for our Director’s sweetness I see.” 

Before he could question what he meant by that, his eyes fell on the tall and small figures not too far from him, matching headsets around their necks, and as he walked closer he realised that the cap Bubble had when he saw her was no longer in her head but in Briar’s instead. Hayden watched them with a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, but he was sure it was there to stay for the whole day. 

The pair pointed at them and Ewan clapped his back, bringing him back from the daydreaming, “Let’s go, they are calling us.”

“Here they are!” Bubble said with a smile on her lips. “Ewan, I want to present to you my number one assistant director, Briar Rose Christensen.” 

His friend crouched down a little and shook his daughter’s hand. “Very pleased to meet you, Miss Christensen.”

“Hello,” his little girl sounded so confident and from up close he saw that she was carrying a badge with her name and the “Assistant Director N°1” on it. 

His blue eyes found her’s and without uttering a word he conveyed what he was feeling at that moment with a soft smile and she seemed to understand because she smiled just the same and winked an eye again. Unknowingly to him, her hands itched to touch his arm just to make her point clear but chose to restrain from it and just bury them in her pockets.

Oh, how lovely it was to see them interact. How soft and attentive she’s with her, how Bri clings to her side, to her hand and every word that leaves her sweet lips. He witnessed how those two spoke during their daily Facetime, but seeing that in person, how easily they liked and shared things, was something far more beautiful. 

They were about to start shooting their scene in the Jedi temple so everyone went to their positions, Hayden stayed back to kiss Bri goodbye for the moment. “Be the best Jedi knight out there, Daddy!” She called sweetly, warming his heart.

“Of course, sweetie.” He kissed her forehead and caressed her hair. 

He locked eyes with Bubble and she gestured with her head to the side, making him follow her. “Yeah?”

“First,” she looked him up and down. “It’s really good to see you in Jedi robes,” her fingers traced delicately the black leather material from his sort of Jedi vest. 

“Thank you,” he took a small step closer to her, wanting to feel her warm embrace as much as he could. “It feels good to wear them.”

She smiled at him and his knees trembled a little. Surely, it’s jitters from the scene, not for her sweet sweet smile. 

“Second,” her voice brought him back. “Are you okay with me asking Briar to be my assistant and the headset thing?” He noticed the nervous ticks on her, and how she played with her nails. “I know it’s late for asking but I got carried away and I want to make the day memorable for her, and and-”

“Bubble,” delicately, he placed his big hands on her small shoulders, his touch calming her down instantly. “It’s more than okay.” He reassured her with a smile, “You are making her day, truly, she hasn’t stopped smiling for a second.” 

“She has your smile,” she blurted. Incredible, girl. Tell him how you have his beautiful smile tattooed on your brain. Hayden chuckled and she smiled. Oh, that sweet sound. 

He said something but he couldn’t register it, his heart racing too loud inside his chest due to her comment. And after a few seconds of trying to calm it down, he could finally be back to normal. “Relax, everything is fine, Bubble, you didn’t overstep at any moment.”

She exhaled relieved, but his thumbs kept caressing her shoulders softly, leaving a tingling sensation as they traced her skin. “I planned to let her call cut if that's okay with you?” 

He smiled, nodding, “She would love it.”

Just like she asked him, Bubble offered the task to Briar as she knelt in front of her, always looking at her eye to eye. “Want to call cut when they finish filming the scene?” 

Hayden had the front row to see how his little girl’s eyes shined at the proposition and eagerly she nodded, jumping at the chance. “Of course, yes!”

They all smiled and went to their positions, Ewan and Hayden to their marks while Bubble and Bri were behind the monitors. 

From where he was standing, he caught the second she helped the little girl sit in her chair, the director’s chair, how she sat straight, proud to be there, and Bubble, standing next to her, guiding her gently, their heads close together as they discussed the scene while pointing at the screen.

It took him more than usual to get into character, being unable to stop smiling at the pair of girls, his heart beating out of his chest every time his clear eyes fell on them.

Concentrate, Hayden, for fuck’s sake. You are a professional, act like it. She’s your director, nothing more….maybe a dear friend, a very dear one. With a sweet smile and a jasmine scent that you could recognise anywhere, but surely nothing more.

"When I say 'action,' you watch your dad, and when he does that cool move we talked about, you get to yell 'cut!'," Bubble instructed. Briar's role was serious business, and she performed it to perfection, her small voice shouting "Cut!" at the perfect moment confidently, causing the crew to applaud, her father more proudly than anyone there.

In the brief moments between takes, where the crew milled around adjusting equipment and discussing the next scenes, Hayden and Briar found themselves enjoying a moment together, by the monitors, catching up.

Briar was eating her favourite snack, strawberry yoghurt with chocolate cookies, that were suddenly available on set, a thoughtful gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Hayden, as she swung her legs back and forth, her small feet not reaching the ground. Her eyes, wide and observant, had been taking in every detail of the vibrant set, but it was the moments spent with Bubble that seemed to captivate her the most. 

"Dad, she's more beautiful in person!" Briar exclaimed with that child-unfiltered honesty, her voice a whisper of awe and fondness for the woman.

Hayden glanced over to where Bubble was standing with a couple of the crew, discussing the next shot. The afternoon light filtered through the high windows, casting a halo around her, softening her features and highlighting her gentle expressions.

His eagerness from the year prior to wanting to see her shine in her element was nothing compared to the satisfaction of being actually there, being witness to her greatness, personally and professionally.

"Yes, she is..." Hayden replied softly, his voice trailing off as he watched Bubble laugh at something one of the crew members said.

How privileged would be the person who gets to hear that sound over and over? COME ON HAYDEN! Where is there professionalism? Long gone now, that's for sure.

Briar giggled, snapping Hayden back from his monologue. "She even showed me how to check the camera angles, and gave me heatseat!" Briar's excitement was palpable, each word punctuated with an enthusiastic bounce. “Did you hear me call cut?”

“I'm glad you're having a good time, sweetie," Hayden responded, his smile tinged with affection. Oh how happy she makes Briar, she’s too sweet for this world.

"She said I was a natural, like you!" Briar continued, unaware of the complex emotions stirring in her father.

Hayden laughed, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind Briar's ear. "Maybe one day you'll be directing films too, huh?"

"Maybe," Briar mused, "but only if I can do it with Bubble. We'd be the best team!"

"Indeed, you would," Hayden agreed, his gaze drifting once again to Bubble. As if sensing his gaze, Bubble looked over, her eyes meeting his across the distance. And, as it had been since day one, a silent communication passed between them, a shared smile that spoke volumes.

The day was finally coming to an end and Hayden was arriving at Bubble's office to pick Bri up and call it a day, he knocked softly before pushing it open. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a small lamp on the desk. There, in a scene that melted his heart instantly, was Briar, asleep with her head resting gently in Bubble's lap. Bubble, with one hand resting on a script and the other lightly stroking Briar's hair, looked up and met Hayden’s eyes with a soft smile. Calm down, you stupid heart.

Bubble carefully shifted, easing Briar's head onto a cushion she placed on the chair, and stood to meet Hayden halfway across the room. They moved in a quiet, shared understanding, their steps soft to not wake up the little girl, who was clearly too exhausted from the day’s adventures.

“She crashed just after you left. It's been quite a day.” Bubble whispered, her smile reaching her eyes. 

“Yeah, it has,” Hayden replied, his voice low and warm. “Thank you, for everything today. For making today special, not just for Briar, but for me too.” A soft smile appeared on her lips, paired with red on her cheeks. “It was amazing.” You are amazing. His words lingered in the air, laden with unspoken feelings, hinting at the layers of meaning behind them. “She hasn’t stopped talking about today. You’ve made quite the impression.” He added.

"It's easy to make days special with you two," she replied softly. “I loved every minute of it and I’m glad she did too. She’s wonderful, Hayden.” You're both wonderful. “Just like you.” 

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The air between them was charged with an unspoken understanding, the kind that comes from shared looks and smiles that linger a little too long.

But before anyone took a leap of faith and said what they were feeling, the silence was broken when Bri turned around, mumbling something in her sleep. Hayden nodded towards her, “I should probably get her home. She’ll be wondering where she is when she wakes up.”

She nodded and stepped out of their way, but watched with a smile on her lips how he gently scooped Briar into his arms, careful not to disturb her slumber. 

As Hayden held Briar close, Bubble stepped forward, her presence comforting and familiar, the jasmine scent involving him, and leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on Briar’s crown, a tender gesture that made his heart race again. 

His blue eyes got lost in hers, they were so calm, so peaceful, that it was just what he was looking for amidst the chaos of his mind, of his heart, he wanted to dive in them and never be found.

Then, standing so close to Hayden that he could feel the warmth of her breath, she raised herself slightly on her tiptoes and placed a sweet, chaste kiss on his cheek. “Goodbye, Hayden,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes holding his for a lingering moment.

Kiss me until I know every millimetre of your lips, but let me keep kissing them in case I forget a detail. The simple kiss sent a ripple of warmth through Hayden’s body, the kind of warmth that spreads slowly but reaches deep. The proximity, her scent, and the feel of her lips on his skin, all conspired to heighten the tension between them.

“Goodnight, Bubble,” Hayden managed to say, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. With Briar in his arms, he turned towards the door, carrying more than just his daughter, the idea that he was losing the battle between rationality and emotion.

Bubble watched them leave, her hand touching her lips briefly, the memory of the kiss lingering like a promise, like hope. The office felt suddenly too quiet, too empty, but filled with a hopeful anticipation of what tomorrow might bring.

July 2021, fulfilling dreams.

One of the last fighting scenes was coming up and Hayden wanted it to be perfect, so he trained all the time for them, so much that he lost track of it. Long ago he stopped feeling the ache in his limbs, or any sensation at all, and the world outside the four walls of the immense training room he was in disappeared.

Unknown to him, he was not alone. She was leaning on a wall looking at him, lost in the way he moved swiftly around the room, how his muscles flexed. She was fascinated by him, but not only by what he made her feel, in terms of her silly little -not little at all- crush, but by how dedicated he was to his part, by his work philosophy. 

The horny part of her was thinking how someone wearing a brown henley and black loose pants could look so fucking sexy, but he could pull it. At some point he tilted his head back, the light hitting on his hair, making his skin glow and her eyes travelled across the curve of his jaw, to his neck to the point where it met with his clavicles, which was showing thanks to the two undone buttons, and she pressed her legs together, gulping.

At the worst time possible, in the silence of the room, she sneezed and he turned around confused as hell. “What the-?” But relaxed when he saw it was only her. “Bless you, Bubble.” 

“Thank you,” she had a tight smile on her lips. “Sorry to interrupt you.”

“Not at all,” he cleaned the sweat from his forehead with his shoulder sleeve. “Break from filming?”

She tilted her head to the side, looking at him frowning, “The filming ended hours ago.” At those words, he frowned too. “It’s dark outside, since when are you here?”

He looked surprised. “I don’t know,” She shook her head, walking towards him with a water bottle in her hands, “late afternoon I think.”

“Here,” she passed him the bottle and he smiled at her, putting the lightsaber on her hands. “Well, all those hours worked extremely fine.”

He gulped the water like a dehydrated man. The main thing that was killing her, that was making her so fucking hard to focus, was how his Adam's apple kept bobbling up and down when he swallowed his drink. “You think?” Truth be told, he was insecure about a few things, his performance being one of them.

“Yes” and nodded sure. “From what I see, and from what the stunts and trainers tell me, it’s perfect.” She smiled kindly at him, “You are more than ready.”

“You sure?” What she had to say about his performance, about him, meant a great deal to him. 

Taking a few steps closer to him, she maintained eye contact. “You are going to kill it, Hayden. I say this as the director, I can already picture how perfect the scene is going to be.” Those words meant a lot to him, but on top of that, how soft she reassured him was what put a smile on his lips. “And as a fan, I already have chills just imagining how it’s going to look.” 

He chuckled at that, “Well, I trust you so I’m going to believe you.” She nodded satisfied and he drank again. 

With how close they were, he saw the exhausted look on her face. The mark of her glasses on the bridge of her nose made him want to pass his fingers there, to relax the frown adorning her features. His eyes diverted to her outfit, always loving how she dressed. Tall black sneakers, paired with also black loose leggings and a fitted blue t-shirt, her hair held by a clip in an extremely messy way. Blue eyes traced back to her face, but she was looking at the saber in her hands, a tiny smile on her lips. “What?”

“I’m trying to not let my little me have a mental breakdown,” she said her eyes still not looking at him

The brunette’s lips curved up in a smile. “Why?” 

She shook her head, hiding her eyes from him. “It’s lame.”

“No, it’s not.” He said quickly. “Talk to me, Bubble.”

Slowly, her eyes met with his and he could notice right away the sparkle in them, but when she looked at him from beneath her eyelashes, he was almost knocked out of his feet at how much it affected that simple gesture. His eyes fell at her lips the seconds she wet the lower one and made it prisoner of her teeth, his heart started beating uncontrollably. Too fast, too hard, that he was sure she was able to hear it.

“I’ve always wanted a lightsaber, but I never had one, and you're giving me yours, even if it's just to hold it, it’s-” she laughed, shaking her head “It’s…um… I don’t-” she giggled nervously “I don’t know how to explain it.”

You are so cute it had to be criminal. Hayden was seconds away from dropping to his knees from how cute she was, from how giggly and happy she looked.

An idea popped into his brain, putting the bottle of water away, he smiled brightly at her. “I know you say you don’t train, but I’m going to teach you something.” She looked at him frowning. “Anakin’s signature move.”

Her eyes shone like a little kid, “I'll make an exception," he raised his eyebrows. "Only for you." A big smile appeared on her lips and all her tiredness flew away.

Her jasmine scent surrounded him, welcoming him when he stood behind her. His chest touching her back, the great difference of one head gave him the opportunity to look down on her. It would be easier to show it to her and that each of them had a lightsaber? Probably. What was the fun of that?

Oh God. She took a deep breath, his closeness clouding her thoughts. A mere inch in between their skins. “First,” he said in a low hushed voice, “don’t arch your back” he heard her holding her breath, “legs a little open.” Shivers ran through her back as he whispered in her ear. “Now,” slowly, his hand travelled to her left one, “a basic spin.” She nodded, pressing her lips to not let a giggle escape her mouth because his breath tingled her.

His fingers intertwined with hers on top of the base of the saber, “relax.” His fingers travelled lower, to her wrist, “Don’t be stiff.” Gently, he massaged it a little, loosening it. Gently, he started twirling his own hand, it took them a couple of minutes to find the right rhythm. Because, one, she was left-handed and it came naturally to him with his right hand, but with his left one was another thing, and two, it was really hard to concentrate for either of them being that close to the other.

Yeah, the ache he was feeling before? Disappeared, completely. It was nonexistent the second they invaded the other’s personal space.

To the endless list of things he noticed about her add, confirming his theory, that her skin was soft. And yes, her touch shocked him to his very core. A simple hand touch, simple fingers intertwined, made him weak in the knees. 

Her lips were a little agape, fully concentrated on the task at hand. After a couple of spins, where he gathered she already mastered it, she was ready for the second step. “Second, you are going to tuck it behind your back pointing your knuckles to the ground.”

“Huh?” She moved her head to the side, looking at him with a frown on her brows.

Their lips centimetres from each other, making it extremely hard to concentrate. For both of them. Lord have mercy on me. 

It was like they were in sync, they looked at the other's lips at the same time, not realising what the other was doing. The sudden need to trace the curve of her lips almost overcame him, almost becoming too much for him to breathe properly, to the point his grip on the saber loosened a little but her firm one brought him back to the real world.

“Basic spin,” she led that part, “Point your knuckles to the ground,” his hand guided hers, “and tuck it behind the back.” Delicately, to not injure her, he moved their arms behind their backs. “Got it?” She nodded, liking her lips and that time, he was the one who took a deep breath, earning a little smile from her.

“Now what else?” Master. She asked looking ahead trying to hide her blush, but failing miserably because he could see it. 

His hand found his place on her waist, he felt her take a shaky breath, “Turn slightly to the side,” and moved her. The movement made her shirt lift a little, his cold fingers touching her warm velvet skin and a little laugh escaped her lips. “What?”

She pressed her lips together to not laugh, “I’m ticklish,” but failed miserably. Her head fell on his shoulder, her throat completely exposed and Hayden’s eyes fell there, instinctively licking his lips. Oh, that laugh. 

Even though she wanted to control her laugh, she couldn't and after a few minutes, when he came out of his entrance with her, he laughed too. His chest rumbled against her back. His masculine laugh made her weak on the knees. 

The closeness they were having disappeared, but not because someone took a step away, but because they were glued together, not an inch of space separated them. Who took that step? God knows, but her back was glued to his front, his grip on her hip was gentle but a little possessive. 

Finally, their laughter died down. How can I have so much luck and at the same time none? “Show me again, please?” Her tone quivered a little and the most masculine, soft, giggled left her lips. To my very core, thank you.

What he found on her face instead of a frown, was a smile. Not only that, but her eyes were looking at his mouth too. “Knuckles to the ground, tuck behind the back while moving your hip.”

She nodded and did the move. Still guided by him, with his hand on her hip. Hayden’s breath caught in his throat the second the movement of her hips made her ass graze his crotch, he tried to put his mind black, to think about anything else other than the sweet torture he was enduring, other than the tightness he started feeling in his pants. Every touch, every movement, It's overwhelming.

He couldn't ignore the intense physical sensations that surged through his body. The closeness of her body against his sent a jolt of electricity straight to his core. He felt his breath hitch and his heart rate quicken, unable to deny the undeniable attraction he felt towards her. Hayden desperately tried to push these thoughts aside, to suppress the growing desire that threatened to consume him. Looking up, he invoked all his willpower not to succumb to his desires to make his very vivid sexual dreams come true at that precise moment. But deep down, he knew that his sexual dreams were just that— dreams. He couldn't let them cloud his judgement or jeopardise the trust they had built. Control your impulses, Hayden. Stay in control for the love of God.

Feeling his grip losing a bit, her hand grabbed the forearm of the hand that was on her waist. It seemed involuntary, like she was grounding herself and it made his heart start racing. She was intoxicating for him, her mere presence made all around him disappear.

After who knows how long, because he was trying to make his hard-on disappear, her voice reached his ears. “You okay?” She was looking up at him over her shoulder.

Busted. He nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, I was about to sneeze and I didn’t want to.” She nodded, not too convinced. 

“What now?” The way she was standing, with where their hands were, he was hugging her from behind. His long arms engulfed her small figure. 

The mix of his perfume, mint and cigarette impregnated in her skin, clouding her. All around her was Hayden and that was drowning her but calming her at the same time.

“Back to the starting position.” At that point, he was still behind her, hand in hand, because it was too difficult for him to part ways. He was too selfish to do it. “And do it all over again.”

Confidently, she made the whole move successfully. “Oh God.” She looked at him with her eyes widened. “Oh my God!” One more time, she did it. “I did it!” She turned around towards him, face to face, with a big proud smile on her face.

“You did it, Bubble.” He smiled proudly too. 

Without thinking twice she jumped into his arms, saber forgotten, along with any clear thought. His arms hugged her by the waist and spun around. Their laughter filled the air, her head tilted to the back and the most beautiful smile on her lips while his eyes admired every second of it.

When her feet touched the ground, his arms were still around her waist making him crouch down a little, her hands on her shoulder. They were breathing the same air, their noses were mere centimetres from touching. She was swimming in his blue eyes, he was living in her lips. Gently, his head tilted to the side, still looking at her lips, and her hands travelled to his neck, her thumbs ghosting his Adam’s apple. 

Timidly, they started shorting the distance. Her hands tangled in his hair, and his fingers went under the hem of her t-shirt, touching her skin and making a shiver run down her spine. His eyes caught the moment the tip of her tongue wet her lips and his knees almost gave in. 

With how close they were, their eyes met. How beautiful her eyes shine. Not even the calmest, most clear ocean, could compare to those eyes. Slowly, he nuzzled her nose with the tip of his and she closed her eyes pleased, her lashes caressing her cheeks. Her nails ran down his scalp and it was his turn to smile pleased, his head falling back and the feeling of a single wet kiss under his jaw blurred his brain. 

He called her name like a prayer, in a whisper, as if it was his only angel and he didn’t want anyone to hear him, to steal her from him. She pressed herself tighter against him. Even with layers of clothes in between them, he could feel her nipples against his chest. The breathless way she said his name, the way she purred it, made him die and go to hell and heaven back twice.

Only the finest of papers could be between their lips, that close they were. Hayden felt the curve of her lips on his, slightly, and that was what brought him back to the real world. What the hell were you thinking? Are you that out of your mind? Painfully, dying inside, he pulled himself apart from her. Putting as much distance as he could because he knew that succumbing to his desires at that moment would be inappropriate and could potentially ruin the sweet relationship that they had built.

Confusion adorned her sweet face. “I’m sorry, Bubble.” She tried to take a step closer to him but he took one back. “I-I ca-I can’t.” His eyes watched how pain took over her features and it was like a knife twisted in his heart. For a few seconds, she looked down. “Bubble-”

Looking at him, with watery eyes, “I get it” She took a step back.

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. “It’s not like that, I-”

“I’ve got to go.” The way he saw his demeanour change, like that day in October back in 2019, when she built walls inside her, killed him. He never wanted her to build those walls for him to not be able to see her true self, hell he never wanted her to feel any kind of pain and certainly not because of him.

“Goodbye.” No Hayden, no Moose. Simply Goodbye. Well done, idiot. Well, fucking done.

He wanted to scream that it wasn’t her the problem, that his insecure self was the problem. That he wanted her, but his feelings were a mess, that he was a mess. That his last real relationship went so bad that he was afraid of fucking things up with her and losing her.

Next Part →

TAGLIST: @frommywindow17 // @lillianacristina // @shyartisanvoidwagon // @watersquirtpewpewboomm // @yomommaandyogranny // @shqwqrma // @florence-vikander // @bryjohn98 // @its-sappho-biotch // @mysardencut // @fan-goddess // @weallhaveadestiny // @hueanhdang // @ittybitty-rt // @fromasgardandback // @mmb-09 // @elisamoons // @harryisacuties // @little-diable // @angie2274 // @fallinlovewithevil // @mrsmikaelsxn // @naginithemage // @maleahcastro3 // @gwendolyngonzalez // @drawingdroid // @darkestnite // @ooostarwarsfandom501st // @lonelywitchv2 // @chixnugg22 // @moni-cah // @4-everm-0-re // @hesvoid34 // @princessvader15 // @nevess // @ilovenarrystoran4ever // @mecrazybish // @blueeyedbesson // @syko-juice // @thetinylittlebird // @b4b3tte // @chixnugg22 // @lily-strnlo // @leahdrads // @niclove // @bloatedandalone04 //

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reaction to an older s/o

Request: Hi, Celeste! Just gotta say, it's been months of me following you, and I absolutely live for your content! 💜 I just came across your "Younger SO" for SVT, and I was wondering if you can do the opposite: SVT with an older SO? Thank you for considering!

A/N: Whether it’s a few months or a few years, these boys would absolutely thrive with a ‘noona’ s/o who has a little extra life experience + I think they're very cool with both younger and older s/o. Also, hi hi!! Tysm, I’m so happy you enjoy the content and stuck around this long.

Seungcheol: He is a leader with so many members to handle, so being with someone who’s just a bit older, gives him a sense of calm. Loves when you guide him through decisions or offer wisdom, but also gets adorably sulky when you tease him for being younger. “I’m still oppa in this house,” he’ll say while reaching for your hand in public.

Jeonghan: You being older? He’s using it. Teasing you? Constant. “You should take care of me~” He lives for the dynamic. Always playing it up, but deep down he respects the maturity and insight you bring to the relationship. Plus, he finds older s/o's incredibly attractive; something about the confidence and experience just does it for him.

Joshua: The “age is just a number” kind of guy [ahem, que that fancall]. He’d love having deeper, mature conversations and would appreciate the emotional intelligence you bring. He’s probably calling you “baby” just to balance the dynamic a bit, but when things get hard, your ability to stay grounded makes him love you even more.

Jun: I don't think he actually doesn’t notice the age gap. You’re older? Oh. Cool. Jun is too much of a vibes/personality-first person to really care. He’s charmed by your poise, but also still drags you into pillow fights. If anyone points it out, he’ll just blink and say, “So?” Because to him, your soul feels like it matches his.

Hoshi: He jokes that you’re “the boss” in the relationship, but he adores it. He’s all about affectionate teasing, spontaneous affection, and showing off for you. He also really wants to impress you and is always a little extra excited when you praise or encourage him. You bring out the more grounded side of him without dulling his sparkle.

Wonwoo: He’s so so soft for someone who brings emotional clarity and maturity into his life. He’s not the type to care about age gaps at all, but he’ll note how soothing it is to be with someone who has a stable energy. Will 100% ask for book recommendations and sit with you in peaceful silence like it’s love language gold.

Woozi: You being older makes him feel a little relieved, he doesn’t have to over-explain his workaholic tendencies or emotional blocks. He values how self-aware you are, and he absorbs your perspectives like a sponge. Plus, he finds the way you handle conflict so hot. If anyone comments on the age thing, he gives them the death glare.

Dokyeom: He’s all giggles and heart eyes, older s/o or not, but he definitely benefits from your emotional maturity. When he gets overwhelmed, you know how to help him reset. He’ll call you “Noona~” in the most singsong way, but still treat you with total love, babying and respect.

Mingyu: Will still insist he can carry all the groceries himself. He’s a bit extra about wanting to prove himself, especially if you’re accomplished or confident. Loves it when you guide him but also wants to be the one taking care of you. Over time, he realizes you don’t need “taking care of,” and starts just enjoying how easy it is to be himself around you.

Minghao: Old soul meets old soul 😌😂 He goes the best with someone older anyway. He’s all about mutual growth, and an older s/o is often more emotionally steady, which suits him perfectly. He appreciates the lack of drama and the introspective conversations you bring. He’d never flaunt the age gap, but he would brag about you non-stop.

Seungkwan: At first, he might be shy or overthink things, wondering if he’s “enough” for you. But once he’s reassured, he’s in. Loves having someone who can match his emotions but handle them a bit more maturely. You make him feel secure and loved, which is everything he really needs.

Vernon: To Vernon, age doesn’t equal power; energy does. If you match his energy and give him space to be himself, he’s head over heels. He’ll appreciate that you’ve probably figured yourself out more, and he finds your confidence very attractive. Bonus: he never forgets your coffee order or how you take your ramen.

Dino: He loves older s/o's but can get a little flustered about proving he’s mature enough. You’re a source of motivation for him, so he wants to meet your standards and show you he’s grown. Will occasionally pout if you “Noona” him, but secretly loves it. Your stability + his ambition = power couple.

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @illiana-mystery

warnings: mention of the hunger games, swearing, age gap (everyone's legal), smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), first time (reader is a virgin)

AN: I am back on my bullshit cuz guess what book I bought.

The door to the compartment slid shut behind me. Haymitch looked up from the bar cart in his room. I rung my hands nervously as I looked around his room.

"They're all the same darling." Haymitch muttered. "What do you want? Come to yell at me some more?" I shook my head. "Then what?"

"I don't..." My voice cracked and I winced. Haymitch's expression softened slightly. "I don't want to go into the arena..." I paused and looked up at the ceiling.

"No one wants to go into that arena. There's nothing to stop it now though." Haymitch took a drink and looked at me. "You never get off this train. Win or lose."

"I know that." I huffed. Crossing my arms and taking a deep breath, I finally looked at him again. "I don't want to go in there a virgin." Haymitch nearly choked on his drink. "I'm legal. Well legal as far as the Capitol is concerned. You wouldn't be doing anything I didn't want." Haymitch put his drink down.

"And why don't you ask the other one?" He nodded towards the door. I scoffed.

"The other one, as you so kindly put it, is 11." Haymitch grimaced. "Yeah. That's not quite what I had in mind."

"Why me?" He asked, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms. "You couldn't wait until we got to the Capitol and find someone willing there?"

"I don't want anyone to know." I shot back. "This is for me. No one else. ME. To not go into the arena feeling like a scared little kid. To go in feeling like an adult, someone who maybe just maybe has a chance no matter how small." Haymitch nodded with a small smile.

"You might just have one anyway sweetheart." He said, raising an eyebrow at me. "Alright. I can't promise I'll be the best of lovers..."

"I don't care. Just make me feel something aside from the fear and anger." I said. Haymitch nodded as he moved towards me. Gently gripping my neck, he paused.

"Have you even been kissed?" He whispered, breath fanning my lips. I nodded.

"There was someone back in 12. But it was a dare. Never meant to mean anything." I said, eyes dropping down to his lips. Haymitch nodded as he rubbed circles into the spot where my jaw met my neck. "I guess that's my lot in life. Nothing is ever meant to mean anything."

"Our lot in life sweetheart." Haymitch chuckled darkly before kissing me. He forced me back against the wall as my hands came up to tangle in his hair. "Nothing that happens to us will ever mean anything. Not until this ends." He whispered as he pulled back, smirking when I chased his lips. "Is that something you are prepared to live with? Or do you want to change it?"

"Fuck the Capitol." I whispered, eyes shining in the low light. Haymitch smiled. "Fuck the Games."

"Take that fire into the Games and you just might be able to break the board." He promised. I nodded. "Now..." He looked me over as he stepped back. "Show me what else that fire can do." I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it off. Haymitch looked me over appreciatively as I did the same with my pants.

"Your turn." I said as I stepped back into his space. Haymitch cupped my cheeks as he kissed me again, less forceful this time but just as commanding. He deepened the kiss as he guided my hands to the top of his shirt. I pulled back to look down at our hands. Haymitch watched me as I hesitantly started to unbutton his shirt. "Everytime I see you in the Hob, you're dressed like everyone else. Why do they do this to you?" I whispered. Haymitch chuckled dryly.

"Like I said sweetheart. You never get off this train." He settled his hands on my hips. "I am still their plaything. All these years later." I looked up at him, watching the way his eyes were guarded even if he was letting me in. "That is never gonna change unless we break the board." I reached up and pushed the shirt off his shoulders. Haymitch watched me carefully as I reached for his belt. His hands slid to the small of my back as he leaned in to kiss my neck.

“Oh. Haymitch.” I whined as he dragged his teeth over my pulse point.

“I can’t leave any marks. Which is a shame honestly.” Haymitch chuckled as he pressed an open mouthed kiss to my shoulder. “Get out of the Games alive and I’ll make it up to you.” I chuckled as I pushed his pants down with his boxers.

“Giving me pretty good incentive to survive the arena.” I teased. Haymitch pulled back and cupped my cheeks before kissing me.

“Good.” He smiled. “Now that I’ve got a taste, I don’t want to give it up.” He hoisted me up into his arms and pressed me back against the wall. My legs wrapped around his waist on instinct. Haymitch grunted as he used his weight to pin me against the wall next to the door. I brushed his hair back behind his ears as he looked up at me. "You sure you want to do this sweetheart? There's still time to back out." I nodded.

"I'm sure." I whispered before kissing him. Haymitch hummed as he reached between us, gripping his dick before rubbing it against my entrance. He slowly thrust into me. My fingers dug into his shoulders as my head fell back against the wall. He grunted as he slowly pushed in until he bottomed out. I whined and tried my best to breath through the pain as my head fell forward. Haymitch's head fell to my shoulder as he took deep breaths.

"Just keep breathing sweetheart." He whispered, kissing my shoulder. "It'll pass." I nodded as his thumb rubbed circles into my skin. "I've got you." I took a deep breath and closed my eyes before resting my head on the wall. The pain started to subside, being replaced with the feeling of being completely full. I whimpered again as I slowly shifted my hips. Haymitch's breath caught as he raised his head. "Ain't so easy up there is it?" He teased as he pulled out only to slam back in. I moaned and dug my fingers into his back.

“shut up Abernathy.” I whined as he thrust into me and ground against me at the same time. “Oh shit.” I breathed out as haymitch repeated the action. He grinned as he pressed his face against the base of my throat.

“hold on a little longer sweetheart.” Haymitch breathed out. “I know you’re close. Probably better than you know yourself. Just a little more.” I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt the pressure grow.

“please. Haymitch.” I breathed out as he kissed along my throat. He growled as he pinned my wrists to the wall. “Please. Please. Don’t stop.”

“didn’t plan on it sweetheart.” Haymitch dragged his teeth over my collarbone as the door slid open.

“Haymitch don’t you…” Effie gasped as she took in the scene before her. Haymitch stilled as he turned his head to look at her, annoyance clear on his face. “Haymitch!”

“can’t this wait?” He panted, raising his eyebrows at her as I weakly tried to grind against him. Haymitch didn’t bat an eye as Effie squeaked and ran out of the room. With a sigh, he started thrusting into me again. “Sorry about her.” He groaned out. “Always in my business.”

“mine too.” I panted, trying to hold onto the fraying thread that was holding me together. “Ever since I stepped on this train.” Haymitch chuckled as he jerked his head to get his sweat soaked hair out of his face.

“Better her in your face than an escort who couldn’t give a shit about you. At least she tries. Not like mine.” He admitted. For a second, the mask fell away and I saw the man haymitch was underneath. A hard thrust had me jerking against the wall as my orgasm washed over me, letting his mask go back up.

“haymitch.” I breathed out as he continued to thrust hard and fast into me.

“(Y/N).” He growled as he finally came, sagging against the wall and pinning me under him. Haymitch gently eased my legs back down as he stood there panting, trying to catch our breath. “I’m going to get you out of that arena if it’s the last thing I ever do.” He promised after a while. I nodded at him, tucking his hair behind his ear before cupping his cheek.

“I know you will.” I said and kissed him softly. “I have faith in you.”

“it’s misplaced sweetheart.” Haymitch said as he let me break away. He watched me as I got dressed.

“come find me at the tower.” I said, squeezing his hand and kissing him one last time before slipping out of his room and down the hall to mine.

[threadbearsweater]

lemonade | rafayel, love and deepspace

you're the neglected wife of a financial mogul, left to your own devices for weeks at a time while your husband is away on business. rafayel is the cute, much younger maintenance man who takes care of your pool. it's been a long time since you've felt the touch of a man, and rafayel is eager to change that.

tags: female reader. age gap- rafayel is in his early 20's, reader is in her late 30's; reader and her husband are financially blessed (they're rich asf); infidelity and the guilt that comes with it; cunnilingus, making out, overstimulation, dacryphilia if you squint. 3.9k words (i don't know what happened)

Your husband comes to bed hours after you retire most nights, and is long gone before you even open your eyes most mornings, leaving only the scent of his aftershave and expensive cologne hanging in your bedroom. He’s always sure to leave a kiss somewhere– on your shoulder, your cheek, your forehead. It’s sweet and tender, sure. He’s sentimental like that in a morbid sort of way; what if it’s the last time he’ll see you, and one of you has to go the rest of your life without the other, knowing that there wasn’t some sort of affectionate exchange when you last saw each other? 

You wish with all your heart that he would wake you to make love. Or that he would– at the very least–  sit down to have dinner with you once in a while before you slide his plate into the microwave and ready yourself for bed. Of course you love him, and you know that he loves you; the lack of intimacy, however, makes you stir crazy, worried, agitated. You knew when you married him that much of your life would be spent without him, but it doesn’t change the fact that you began to feel neglected and forgotten. No amount of money he could spend on you could ever make up for the basic biological need to be touched, to be loved. To feel desired. To know that your husband– the man you promised yourself to so many years ago– wanted you for more than just a sense of security and a pretty face waiting for him to come back home.

This morning was no different from any other. You wake slowly and pull the silk sleep mask from your eyes to find that it’s already past nine. You curse yourself silently for sleeping longer than you intended and slip out of bed to open the blinds. There’s already a sultry summer haze that seems to have settled in, making everything appear out of focus when you look out across the expanse of your property. Nothing moves to indicate that there’s a breeze of any kind at all. You sigh and stretch your arms above your head, deciding that today will be a pool day. 

The pool was dug last spring as an anniversary gift, and your husband spared no expense in creating a little slice of paradise for you to enjoy. You had hoped it meant he would spend a little more time at home with you, but so far he’s only been swimming in it once. You, on the other hand, enjoy it almost daily in the warmer months. Alone, most of the time, excepting the periodic presence of a groundskeeper, your cleaning lady, or the pool maintenance guy. 

You're expecting to be alone today, so after breakfast you choose one of your more revealing swimsuits and a sheer coverup, figuring you’ll work on a nice, sun-kissed glow while enjoying the controlled temperature of the water. You bring a book, some tanning oil, and a few snacks to avoid having to return to the house until you’re sun and chlorine soaked enough to satiate yourself for a little while. The poured concrete patio is already hot, so you tiptoe across barefoot quickly, your steps punctuated by little exclamations (“ooh! ouch! shit!”) as you make your way poolside. The cool water is a balm as you lower yourself in, breathing a sigh of relief before treading out into the middle of the pool.

For a little while you float with your face turned toward the sky. The sun isn’t quite directly overhead, but it’s late enough in the morning that you feel the heat on your skin, the humidity already heavy in the air. You breathe, you relax. You take in the moment, appreciating it for what it is, and vow to make your husband swim with you when he comes home this weekend.

You spend a little time in the water, then a little time reading, snacking, and sunning yourself on a patio lounge chair. It’s peaceful and easy, and since you don’t really have any other plans for the day, you let yourself enjoy the leisure and luxury without worrying about the time. At some point while reading, you drift off to sleep like a cat on a sunbeam, warm and content.

~

“Madam?” 

You blink awake and frown, a little disoriented to see someone else’s face so close to yours– a relatively unfamiliar one, at that. Instinct tells you to push away this person who intrudes upon your personal space, so you shove your palm against his nose and sit up quickly. The culprit yelps in pain, his own hands flying to his face and pushing yours away.

“Hey, what was that for? I was just trying to wake you up so you don’t get overheated out here.” His voice is a bit nasal and hollow sounding from where he has his hands cupped around his nose, but you recognize him immediately once you’re fully awake and coherent.

You apologize profusely. “Rafayel! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was you!” You cover his hands with yours and pull them away from his handsome face, scanning for any damage you might have done. Thankfully, all looks well, except that maybe his nose is a bit red, but that could also be from sun exposure. He rubs it and pouts, almost as if he wants you to believe that you did indeed hurt him. “You don’t usually come on Thursdays. I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here today.”

Rafayel has been taking care of pool maintenance for you since the beginning of this year. Your other maintenance guy was a local university student, and when he graduated and moved on, your husband hired Rafayel to take his place. He’s been a reliable employee so far, hardworking and trustworthy; not to mention, he’s easy on the eyes, and you’d shrivel up with embarrassment if he knew how many mornings you spent admiring him from the kitchen window. 

He gestures toward the enclosure where most of the pool mechanics are hidden. “Needed to change one of the filters I didn’t have with me last time I was here. I was at your neighbor’s house this morning and figured I’d stop here too.” 

“Well thank you.” You rub your eyes and yawn, shielding your eyes as you squint up at the sky. “How long was I out?”

Rafayel shrugs and perches on the side of your lounge chair, resting his elbows on his knees. He wipes a sheen of sweat from his forehead. “Couldn’t say. I’ve only been here for like, ten minutes? And you’ve been asleep the whole time.”

You lean down to grab your cover-up that fell onto the patio at some point during your little cat nap. Rafayel swoops down to grab it first and hands it to you with a cheeky smile. You thank him and slip it over your head; if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you saw a shadow of disappointment pass through his gaze, but it’s gone before you can be sure. 

“Don’t let me keep you from your work,” you tell him, gathering the rest of your things. “I’m sure you have other things to do this afternoon besides save old housewives from heat stroke.” The latter part of your statement is very tongue-in-cheek. You certainly don’t see yourself as old, but you do have a few years on Rafayel.

He scoffs and stands up, offering a hand to you, which you accept. “Please.” He calls you by your married name, and you correct him to use your first name instead. He says it very deliberately then, and you watch the way his mouth forms, his eyes fixed on your face so intently it makes you feel warm down to your chest. “I’ll change the filter and be out of your hair in no time.”

“At least stay and get a drink before you go,” you insist. Rafayel raises an eyebrow. “What do you like? Lemonade? Iced tea?” You’re already stepping backwards toward the house, feeling buoyant, giddy. The way he smiles, the way his pretty eyes shine as he stands there in the sun stirs something almost foreign in your belly. Something you haven’t felt in months– perhaps even years. It’s almost overpowered by a gnawing sense of guilt, but you rationalize it as just a harmless flirtation. Some silly, girlish feelings brought about by the temporary rise of your body temperature from laying in the sun too long. You explain it away in your head, waiting for Rafayel to stop looking at you like he wants to say something other than what he likes to drink.

“Lemonade,” he says slowly, stepping toward you, keenly aware of how the sleeve of your sheer cover-up has fallen off your shoulder. It feels scandalous for him to witness your bare shoulder with nothing but the strap of your bikini between him and the softness that beckons. He’s thankful for the sun that has kissed his cheeks peony pink because it hides the flush he feels when he wonders how you smell. If he could just–

“Great! I’ll get you a glass while you get the filter changed. Shouldn’t take long, right?” You smile brightly at him and retreat as fast as you can into your house, closing the sliding glass door with a shuddering sigh before slumping against the wall to calm yourself. Your heart flutters. An anxious energy seems to bubble up from your throat and you giggle in spite of yourself, covering your mouth as if someone is going to overhear. 

Outside, Rafayel blows out a long, cool breath and goes about the business of changing the pool filter with trembling hands. He doesn’t want to overstep, but he can’t deny the way he feels when you look at him. He thinks it’s a damn shame that your husband works so much and misses out on seeing you every day. Whether you’re lounging by the pool, wrapped up in one of your books, chatting with friends on the phone, or otherwise keeping yourself entertained, he finds you beautiful in ways that put girls his own age to shame. And you’re all alone in this sprawling house with no one to talk to. He’s doing you a favor by showing up unexpectedly. 

The air conditioning kicks on just as Rafayel slides the door open to find you at the kitchen counter, mixing a fresh batch of lemonade. You offer him a seat at the counter. “So you’ve already been to the neighbor’s house?” you ask, trying so hard to come across as though you don’t have a reason for asking. Pure curiosity, that’s all. Polite conversation.

“Yep. I’m free for the rest of the day,” he says with a stretch and a satisfied sort of groan, leaning onto the counter as if he owns the place. He rests his chin in his hands and watches you taste the lemonade, wondering if you know how cute you look when you wrinkle your nose at the tartness. You add a couple more teaspoons of sugar and mix again, meeting his adoring gaze and feeling suddenly shy.

“What are you going to do? Any fun plans?” You taste again, satisfied this time with the sweetness, then pour a glass for Rafayel. As you pass it to him, he reaches for it at the same time. His fingers glide over yours and you gasp. Rafayel looks at you, and something passes between the two of you that feels like a live wire. You draw your hand away quickly– too quickly– and the glass topples over on the counter, lemonade lost.

“Oh!” You scramble for a paper towel, forgetting where you keep them in your panic. Rafayel is quick to help, noticing a roll of them on another stretch of countertop behind you. He grabs them as you’re using your hand as a dam to stop the stream of lemonade from carving a path to the floor. He steps in directly behind you and slaps down a fold of paper towels, and they soak up the mess on the counter immediately.

You know he probably didn’t mean to step so close, but his chest is against your back and his breath tickles the side of your neck. He huffs out a laugh– he sounds just as breathless as you feel, though you chalk it up to panic about the spill more than anything else. 

“Sorry. I’m so clumsy,” you say, silently willing your heart to beat just a little bit slower.

“Nah, you’re okay. Accidents happen.” His voice is so close to your ear you’d swear he was inside your head. He wipes the mess away, then takes your hand, leading you to the sink to rinse it off. He’s tender and deliberate, taking meticulous care to lather the soap so there’s no sticky residue left on your skin.

“Thanks,” you tell him, your face positively on fire. “You should, ah– you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” You reach for a hand towel and dry yourself quickly. 

Rafayel looks offended. “You sure? I’d hate for you to have another accident and there’s no one to help you clean it up,” he teases.

It makes you laugh in spite of yourself. “I’ll be fine,” you insist. “I’m sure you have friends waiting. It’s a beautiful day. Go, take advantage of it.”

Feeling bold, Rafayel steps closer to you again and lifts your chin so that you have to look at him. You’ve never noticed before the depth of color in his eyes– iridescent, incandescent. He is mischievous and devious all at once, and it would take a real idiot to not see what he very clearly has in mind when he steps so close to you that you could count his lashes. He begins to call you by your married name again, but you stop him with a whispered plea. 

So he says your first name– deliberate, slower still than when he said it before. His lips are so close to yours that they touch when he speaks. “May I kiss you?”

Whatever happened in the moments leading up to this one leaves you speechless, searching for the reason that you’re standing here in the middle of your kitchen– the one that you custom designed with your husband, purchased and decorated with his money– kissing the years younger man who maintains your pool. If you try too hard to rationalize it, you’ll never forgive yourself as long as you live.

Oh, his lips are impossibly soft. Silk and gentle heat, breath that tastes faintly of bubble gum, a clever tongue that slips between your lips and over the sharp edges of your teeth while his arm threads around your waist to draw you closer. Your body seems to move of its own volition; you slide a hand across the back of his neck and comb your nails up through his hair, and he moans so unabashedly it almost makes you laugh.

You’re first to break the kiss; breathless, reeling, you weakly paw at his chest, and when you don’t meet his penetrating gaze, he lifts your chin again and speaks so earnestly to you that you wonder if he’s said these words before to some other lonely housewife whose husband also left her alone too often. “This…doesn’t have to mean anything.” He brushes his knuckles across your cheek and you lean into his touch, seeking, cat-like. “Just let me make you feel good.”

You shove the guilt aside. If it’s wrong to feel desired, you don’t want to be right. Not right now. Not with Rafayel kissing along the graceful column of your neck, his hands already wandering underneath your little cover-up to knead the soft, supple curve of your hip and the round of your ass. You let him touch you, and you soak it all in like the desperate, affection deprived woman you are. 

Rafayel is fascinated with you, and you feel it with every slide of his warm skin against yours. He traces a path across your cheek and along your jaw with just the tip of his nose; he blinks, and his eyelashes whisper against you while his fingers fan out across the side of your neck. You grow bold and curious enough to lift the hem of his shirt, sighing into his mouth when your fingers trace the toned contour of his abs, the subtle indentations between ribs when he sucks in a breath at the onset of your touch. He kisses you as if to devour you. You kiss him back with the same fervor, and when he reaches to grab the back of your thighs, you let him lift you. Arms linked around his neck, legs squeezing his waist, he asks you between kisses, where is your room?

Down the hall, you murmur, fingers in his hair, lips on his brow. Second door on the left.

He carries you there, and when he kicks the door shut and lays you out on the bed, he looks at you with a reverence that nearly brings you to tears. With painstakingly slow movements, he peels away each piece of your swimsuit, breathing out in wonder as he studies each curve of your body. “So beautiful,” he whispers, kneeling on the floor in front of where you lie.

A younger version of you would have played coy. Perhaps you wouldn’t have been as confident in how your body appeared to an attractive man who wanted nothing more than to take you apart in the most carnal sense of the word. But as you lie there under his watchful gaze, as you feel his beautiful mouth tracing a path from the arch of your foot to your knee, to your thigh, you know you’re beautiful. You feel beautiful. You feel like a goddess of the highest order. And Rafayel has most certainly helped you feel that way.

So you whisper a thanks that turns into a satisfied sigh when his hands press you open and you feel the tip of his tongue between your folds. Rafayel groans and presses his open mouth to you, his grip on your thighs strong and sure. You link your ankles across his shoulders and bury your hands in the softness of his hair again, making sure that he doesn’t move farther than you want (need) him. 

And like the giver he is, he stays there. Shirtless, his pretty face buried in your cunt, strong hands pressing your legs open to keep you pliant for him. He’s so desperately turned on for you that his hips rut into the side of the mattress. He releases one of your legs to reach down and stroke himself when the need becomes too great.

He’s good with his tongue, even better with the suction of his mouth when he draws your clit between his lips. You ride the waves of your pleasure, kneading the soft flesh of your own tits, lifting your hips to press yourself further into his mouth when he moans for you. It’s been so long since you’ve felt the touch of another that you’d forgotten what it was like. Your toys worked well when the need became too great to bear, but they were nothing compared to this. 

Rafayel pulls back to gaze up at you, chin and lips shining with evidence of you. The loss of him makes you whimper and scoot toward him. “I just wanted to look at you for a minute,” he says with that teasing lilt in his voice that you’ll never quite get used to. “Do you still need me to touch you?” 

You’re not above begging– not in this state. So you ask him, please, to touch you, that you’re almost there, just a little more. He laughs through his nose and slides two fingers inside you, marvelling at the sticky, wet sounds your body makes for him. He curves those fingers once he’s inside and you arch so pretty for him that he thinks he’s going to lose his mind. 

“Mouth, Rafayel. Need– neetd y–” You can hardly form a coherent thought, let alone actual spoken words.

He gets a kick out of that, but keeps those fingers moving, slow and steady, really enjoying the way your body seems to suck him in. “You need my mouth, cutie? Is that what you want to say?”

You nod. Oh, please. Please yes, and he nudges your clit with his nose before sucking it back in his mouth. You cum with lightning intensity, both the penetration and the stimulation entirely overwhelming. Your vision goes white, your breathing ragged and hoarse. Rafayel, like the good samaritan he is, grips your thighs like a vice to keep you open so he can drag his face through the silky softness of your climax, overstimulating you to the precipice of madness. You try in vain to push his head away, but he won’t be moved.

“Need to clean up this mess,” he says. His face glistens with your pleasure, and you think you’ve never seen him more beautiful.

Vaguely aware of a tear that runs down your temple to rest in one of the folds of your ear, you lie back and let him take care of you. The aftershock of your orgasm dies away eventually, though the muscles in your thighs twitch involuntarily until he decides he’s finally satisfied with his work and crawls up to lie beside you. 

Neither of you say a word for a long time. You let him hold you until your heartbeat returns to normal. He rubs your back in long, slow strokes, and you cup his face in your hands, tracing the strong line of his jaw, hsi gentle brow, the delicate fan of his eyelashes. 

“We don’t have to tell anyone,” he says, as if he can read your mind. “You just seemed so lonely today. More than usual, I mean.”

You scoff a little, though you know what he says is obvious. “More than usual? Do I really mope around here that much?”

He shrugs and shifts a little to lie back, pulling your hand across his chest. “I’m only here once a week, but you always look so sad. You were practically begging to be kissed today.”

That makes you laugh, and you give him a playful shove. “You’re one to talk.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about it before?” He quirks a brow and turns his head to look at you.

Busted. “Maybe once or twice. But we can’t–” You sigh. The damage has already been done, if you can call it that. You’re the unfaithful wife. A literal stereotype. There’s no way you can rationalize it to yourself. “We shouldn’t have done this.”

Rafayel hums, tracing his fingertips up and down your arm. “But did you like it?”

You nod before you can overthink it. Your body still pulses with arousal, despite knowing you should be feeling anything but. “I really did.”

“Me too,” he says. “So, if it happens again, is it really so bad?”

You decide that it really isn’t so bad, especially when your husband calls later that evening to tell you he won’t be home this weekend after all.