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themultifanshipper · 15 days ago

Note

I don’t know if your down but I need more mark webber smut or jenson or even both I just can’t find anything for older divers except seb (don’t get me wrong I love them but fuck I need mark and jenson ones so bad ) also love your fics but the foursome one was next level

After Danica got fired, Jenson hoped there would be no replacement. That he’d be paired up with one of his other SkySports colleagues.

Instead, you showed up. All pretty eyes and bashful glances, and he didn’t know quite what to do with himself.

(Yes that is an old pic of Jenson to which I added a beard, you're welcome)

Warnings: smut, age gap, masturbation, making a sex tape, multiple orgasms, Ted Kravitz being cringe at the end (but that’s why I love him don’t @ me), not proofread

Jenson knew you were always nervous around him. Understandable, given how much disdain he’d shown his previous colleague.

You were incredibly sweet to him, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t immediately smitten with you. Very early on he decided to not get too close to you, for a number of reasons. You were young, definitely too young for him, and he didn’t want to come off as the creepy older colleague infatuated with the woman under his wing, so he kept a reasonable distance.

It didn’t take you long to get used to the job. You were young, but you were incredibly mature. Never distracted, always asked pertinent questions in interviews, and in no time you felt right at home in front of the cameras. A true professional.

Which was more than could be said for what went on inside Jenson’s mind every time he looked at you. He didn’t know how to act around you. He didn’t want to come on too strong or you might get the wrong idea, and he didn't want to scare you off.

Unfortunately, that didn’t translate very well on camera, and just made him look like he didn’t like you at all.

He admired you, in a way, being one of the youngest in the biz. He knew he stared at you way too much, but you didn’t seem to notice.

He was sure everyone else probably noticed, so he decided to stop staring, and instead tried to look as neutral as possible whenever he was around you.

“She’s so much nicer than Danica, I don’t get why Jenson doesn’t seem to like her”

People on twitter didn’t know how to react.

“Why is Jenson looking at her like he wants to run her over with his car 😭”

You would spend quite a lot of time reading tweets about you. Sue you, you wanted to see if you were well received by the fans, knowing full well how critical people could be.

“If Jenson wants to quit his job I’ll gladly take his place if I can be next to her”

And they were half reassuring, half mortifying. Because yes, they seemed to like you, and appreciate you replacing Danica, but you indeed started noticing how Jenson looked at you during interviews.

You had no idea why he didn’t like you. You couldn’t remember doing anything to annoy him, and he sure as hell hadn’t said anything to you whenever you talked to him alone, so why did he look at you like he wanted to run you over?

The actual problem, was that Jenson’s mind wandered. And it wandered into very dangerous territories.

He knew it was wrong, and he knew he should stop it immediately, but something about having forbidden fantasies about his colleague was too exciting to stop.

So when he was feeling particularly riled up, or bored, or whenever he was at home, really, he’d think about you.

About your soft lips that he couldn’t help staring at. About your hands, your delicate fingers wrapped around the microphone while you held it up to whoever you were interviewing.

He thought about those infuriating shirts you wore. They weren’t low cut, but they were tight.

He thought about the time he’d been working out in the hotel gym at night, when you sauntered in, in nothing but a sports bra and tight shorts. He didn’t know whether to be thankful or spiteful of the hot Singaporean weather.

“Oh hi, Jense!” you’d called out cheerfully.

Jenson’s hips stuttered and he came all over his hand at the memory. Damn you and your tendency to give people affectionate nicknames.

Sometimes, when he needed... material, he’d pull up your instagram. You had a few photos on there of you in tight dresses at events, and... some of you at the beach, wearing bathing suits with varying degrees of coverage.

He never lasted long when he pulled those out.

It never took long for the guilt to set in either, gnawing at him while he did his best to go about his business. He knew he had a problem, but he didn’t know what to do about it.

He was in half a mind to quit his job, but even that idea failed him when he saw your sweet sweet face look sad when he’d mentioned his retirement.

So months went by, and you got closer. One could even say you were friends. You got on well, and when you were alone the banter flowed naturally, despite the generational divide. You had the same sense of humour, often jokingly flirting at each other. He called you ‘young lady’, and you called him ‘old man’... and in a way it helped him stay on track, not get too absorbed into the chemistry he had with you.

But the guilt still gnawed, and when the cameras rolled, he put the stick back up his ass and pretended you were nothing more than Danica’s replacement.

Who the fuck decided it was a good idea to race in Vegas, in november?

He felt like he was stuck in a loop. An endless cycle of guilt and pretty eyes and twitter comments.

...

Whoever it was deserves to get their head bashed in, Jenson thought as he huddled against some tyre warmers.

Evening sessions were a nightmare, and they just got colder as the days went on. The tyres may have been cold, but you and Jenson were freezing your proverbial nuts off while you waited for the drivers to get out of their cars after qualifying.

The interviews were fine, but it was clear everyone was just desperate to get back to their hotels to warm themselves up.

Everyone except Jenson, it seemed.

...

You ran into him in the lobby of your hotel when you went down to ask for blankets.

Apparently, the biting cold was fucking with the electricity, so the heating wasn’t great in some of the rooms. And the phones were dead, so you had to go to the lobby if you needed anything.

It was around 2 AM, and Jenson was at the bar having what appeared to be a whiskey on the rocks.

“Jense? What are you doing down here?”

His eyes snapped to you immediately and he sighed.

“Could ask you the same question, young lady.” he chided, and you rolled your eyes.

“The heating’s not working properly so I’m going to ask for blankets” you took a seat on the bar stool next to him “What about you, old man?”

He huffed out a laugh, taking in your polka dot pyjamas peeking out from the fluffy dressing-gown you had on.

“The heating’s completely off in my room. And they’re out of fucking blankets.”

Your face fell, the blankets had been your last hope.

“Shit...” you eyed him as he took another sip. “That’s rough...”

“Yup” he popped the ‘p’ dramatically, fingers wiping at the condensation on the side of his glass.

“And your plan is... to stay here and drink until tomorrow?”

He chuckled. “No, my plan is to drink as many of these bad boys as it takes to not feel the cold anymore, and by that point, I should be slightly happier about being here”

He winked at you and downed the rest of his glass. You knew he wasn’t a fan of Vegas, and neither were you, so it had become a sort of inside joke.

“That’s a terrible plan. It’s better to have company in the cold than drink it away on your own.”

“So... what? Are you going to drink with me?” he chuckled “You going to give an old man some company?” he cringed at his choice of words, the whiskey must have already affected his judgement.

You leaned in closer with a cheeky smile. “No... I’m inviting the old man up to my hotel room.”

Jenson’s brain stalled as he stared at his empty glass.

“I uhh...” he gulped “I’m not sure that’s a good idea”

“Why not? I’m sure we can find some way to keep warm...” you muttered, sliding off your chair.

This couldn’t be happening. Jenson tried to keep his cool while his mind went a million miles an hour. He was just imagining things. You were not flirting with him, it was the whiskey making him interpret your words as something else. You weren’t suggesting-

“If we work together, I bet we’ll be sweating by the end of the night” you purred.

‘Don’t do it Jenson’, his brain supplied, she’s only joking. She doesn’t want you in that way, you’re much too old for her! Don’t throw your career away over-

“Besides, what’s the point of touching yourself to my instagram photos, when the real thing is waiting in the next room.”

Your hand on his thigh made him jump slightly. He turned his head to look at you questionningly.

“You’re not as slick as you think you are” you smiled, fingers brushing against his rapidly growing bulge. “Did you know that when you accidentally like a pic, then unlike it, it still sends me a notification?”

Jenson gritted his teeth, but made no effort to move your hand. “Obviously not, no”

“And did you know” you grinned, movements growing bolder as you rubbed him through his pants “that you’ve liked the same 4 posts about 50 times, and always at night?”

Your body was pressed against his side, and he was basically throbbing under your touch as he tried to keep his composure. “And you seem to really like the ones of me in Bali...”

He tried to choke out an excuse, but you cut him off. “I know you want me...” your faces were inches apart, he was panting against your lips as you teased him. “So come and get me”

You retreated completely, turning on your heel to walk across the lobby. Your heart was beating through your chest at what you’d just done.

You pressed the button for the elevator and waited with bated breath, not daring to turn around.

It felt like an age before the doors finally opened, just as you suddenly felt his presence behind you.

He undid your robe silently and slid a hand into your pyjama pants, and his breath hitched when his fingers came in contact with your wetness.

He quickly pushed you inside, clicking the button to your floor before pressing you against the mirror.

“Fucking hell... you’re soaked”

“Jenson, please” you begged, and he didn’t hesitate to slip a finger inside you, curling it perfectly as you mewled under him.

“Desperate little thing, aren't you?” he cooed, adding another finger.

Your eyes rolled back, breath fogging up the mirror as the obscene sound of his slick fingers filled the small space.

By the time the elevator got to your floor, you were trembling and gasping for air.

You couldn’t keep your hands off each other all the way down the corridor, slamming each other against various walls and probably making a racket while you were at it, but neither of you gave a damn when it felt so good to be touched.

...

Clothes were thrown haphazardly all over the place, and he wasted no time spreading your legs to get a taste of you.

Well, he got more than a taste. He buried his face between your thighs, not once coming up for air as his tongue dragged you to edge of a mind numbing orgasm.

It wasn’t too long before you started to feel the burn of his beard insistently rubbing against your inner thighs as he ate you out with gusto, but his mouth felt so good sucking on your clit, you didn’t care, if anything, it made the sensations more intense.

But he didn’t stop there, he kept going, sliding his fingers into you, that he curled expertly against your g-spot.

His extra years of experience hadn't been wasted, you thought. After all, everyone knew what he was like back in the day... and he certainly knew his way around.

That’s how he got you to your second orgasm of the night, thighs clamping down around his head as your hips bucked against his skilled tongue and fingers.

He crawled over you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, in which your could taste yourself, and feel your wetness cling to his face. The kiss quickly turned sloppy when your hand went down to stroke his cock, thumbing at the tip to spread his precum around.

“This is definitely better than your holiday in Bali” he groaned and you giggled at the statement.

He lined himself up with your dripping cunt, ready to slide in and make all his fantasies come true, when you suddenly had an idea.

“Wait!” you gasped, pushing him away and looking around wildly. “Where’s your phone?”

“What?” he panted.

“Or mine, either will do” you spotted one of the two on the floor just next to you so you reached down and took it, turning the camera on. It was Jenson's.

“What on earth are you doing?” he asked, hands wandering across your thighs impatiently.

“Giving you some new material” you propped it up on the nightstand and started recording. “Lie down”

You shuffled around until he was laying on his back and you were straddling his hips, his tip poking at your entrance.

“Ready, old man?” you smirked.

He scoffed, swatting your hips. “Have some respect for your elders”

You rolled your eyes playfully and sank down on him.

Despite your earlier orgasms, it was quite a stretch. His girth was enough to get a punched-out groan from you as you took him all the way to the base.

You steadied yourself on his chest and rode him slowly at first, getting used to the feeling of his thick cock splitting you open, then set a faster pace, angling your hips to take him deeper.

“That’s it... bounce on my cock, good girl” he moaned, rolling his hips in time with your thrusts.

You looked like a goddess, towering over him, brows knit together in pleasure and he couldn’t believe this was real. He half assumed this was a whiskey induced wet dream.

One of his hands came up to pinch your nipples, and you squealed at the rough treatment, but it only made you wetter as you picked up the pace of your hips.

His thumb went to circle your clit lazily and you whined, biting your lip at the added intensity of his stimulation on your puffy oversensitive bundle of nerves.

“Jenson” you gasped. You could feel yourself nearing another orgasm, and he felt you tightening around him, so he wrapped a hand around your neck to pull you down for another kiss, and took the opportunity to thrust up into you.

You swore loudly, seeing stars as you came around him while he jackhammered his cock into you, chasing his own high.

You pushed yourself back up, leaning over him to turn his phone off before looking down at his satisfied, dopey smile.

He came inside you with a low growl, bouncing you on his cock a couple more times before releasing his grip on your hip and neck in favour of cupping your face and deepening the kiss.

Your body slumped over his, and you reveled in the absolutely filthy kiss he was giving you while one of his hands travelled to your ass and gave it a harsh squeeze.

“You cold?” you asked, trailing a finger through the sweat on his heaving chest.

“Nope” he panted, grinning at you.

“Up for round two?” you smirked devilishly.

“Definitely” he smiled “Give me a minute though, I’m not in my twenties anymore”

You giggled, finger trailing lower, along the bumps of his toned abs.

“I don’t know... I think you’re pretty fit for an old man” you teased.

“Please don’t call me old man when my cock is inside you”

...

“Helloooo”

The cheery voice of Ted Kravitz interrupted your thoughts while you were having breakfast the next day.

“Hey Ted!” you greeted “What’s up?”

“In my life... not much. How about you? How’s it going with Jenson? Found any common ground yet?”

In the beginning, back when Jenson didn’t speak to you much, you’d struck up a friendship with Ted, and told him about your worries.

“Not much... I still don’t think he likes me very much, to be honest” you sighed.

“Not really. We don’t see each other much outside of the paddock.”

“Really? Nothing more than that?”

He looked at you with a knowing smile. You decided to play stupid.

He snorted.

“Riiiight.... so it wasn’t you two that I saw stumbling through the hallway last night with your hands down each other’s pants... guess it must’ve been somebody else, it was pretty dark, I suppose.”

He smirked, getting up and plucking a donut off your plate.

You were forced to watch him strut off, and almost run into Jenson in the doorway.

Jenson said hello, but Ted just cackled and walked away.

"What was that about?" Jenson asked you, noting your terrified expression as your eyes stayed glued to the door.

"I think we have a problem"

#my thots #jenson thots #jenson button x reader #jenson button smut #jenson button #f1 #formula 1 #request

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baronessvonglitter · 2 months ago

Text

Bad Santa

sleazy mall Santa!Joel Miller x fem!Reader

Word count: 2.3K

Summary: Frantically seeking relief during the Christmas rush, the Santa at your local mall is the last person you'd expect to help.. and the only one who can.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Reader is a hot and horny mess and wears a short skirt. Mall Santa is a perv, but he's your perv. Semi-public masturbation (f). Squirting. Cockwarming. Semi-public sex. Infidelity. Unprotected piv. Oral (m & f receiving). Analingus (f receiving). Possibly illegal use of a candy cane. Creampie. Come swallowing. Santa Joel is a menace and a sleaze but that's what we all need, right?

Author's Note: one of the first things I learned about @strang3lov3 is that we share a deep love for Bad Santa (and Billy Bob in general) so this is written in her honor. Bug, I hope you enjoy Santa Joel, and don't forget to leave out some cigs and whiskey for him on Xmas Eve. (And the latest edition of Hustler. He's an old-school magazine man.)

JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

You're home on Christmas break from college and all you want to do is fuck the boyfriend you left behind and have been faithful to for four long, painful months. But the only thing on Derek's mind is doing last minute Christmas shopping.

The mall on Christmas Eve is the last circle of hell.

Derek guides you through the crowd. "Sleigh Ride" plays over the speakers, tinny, bright and cheery. You hate it. You're impatient. You're horny. You need to find a way to get him alone, even just a fingerbang would suffice. For now.

You pass by the huge Christmas tree in the center where the mall Santa waits with bored-looking elves. There's no line, which is surprising given it's the last day for photo ops.

Santa watches as you pass, cheap plastic beard hanging off, revealing gray scruff, his red suit wrinkled and stained. You track his gaze roving over your figure, fully concentrating on the jiggle of your ass under the short skirt you'd picked out in the hopes of getting a quickie.

"God damn," you hear him mutter. "Merry Christmas, babygirl." he calls out.

You glance back and see him pull the beard down, wiggling his tongue at you in a lewd manner.

Fucking sleaze. But your pussy is wet and throbbing, and this is the first bit of attention you've had all day. You respond by stuffing your tongue in your cheek and making a blow job motion. Santa licks his lips and subtly palms his cock over his fluffy red pants.

Derek, oblivious, is walking you towards a department store.

"Mommy said she'd like a new bathrobe for Christmas," he says, bringing you past the awful perfume and makeup counters. You heard right.. Mommy. What the fuck?

"Didn't you already buy her a foot massager?" you ask, barely hiding your disinterest, looking around for a corner where you can blow him.

"She said she wants the robe instead," he says, diligently checking each one on the rack. Pink, green, blue, they're all in ugly prints and you wonder how little he must think of his mom to actually buy her a bathrobe instead of something nice.

But the bigger problem is your aching cunt.

"Derek, come on, just pick one out," you beg him, whispering in his ear, giving his lobe a little bite.

"Calm down, we're in public," he chides you over nervous laughter.

"So? That makes it more exciting." Closer to him as the clothing rack hides you, you cup his crotch, disappointed to find he isn't even remotely hard. Not a problem. You know exactly how to get him started.

"Let's go to the dressing room," you tell him before he can remove your hand. "I'll let you do whatever you want, please, I just need you now.."

"Get a hold of yourself," he whispers harshly, finally pulling your hand from him.

"Derek, what the fuck?" you whisper back. "Your horny girlfriend wants you to fuck her in a semi-public place and you're limp as a fucking noodle. Don't you want to at least watch me get off?"

You're not even allowing him time to think about it, leading him to the men's dressing room, where you're less likely to set off an alarm than the women's. You step into the first stall and push him against the wall, caging him in with your arms.

"Sweetheart, what the hell?"

"Fuck me," you tell him. "Jesus, Derek, I'm pussy on a plate right now." You lift your leg, rubbing against him, but only the fly of his jeans provides any feeling. "And you can't even get hard??"

"You're coming on a little strong," he says faintly, as if he's being cornered by a feral animal. And in a way he is.

You lean back on the little dressing room seat, hiking up your skirt. "At least eat me out, for Christ's sake," you whine, fingers dipping into your dripping-over cunt.

"Darling! You're acting like a crazy person," he says, shielding his eyes as you desperately finger yourself.

"You're such a pussy," you grunt out, breath hitching as you fuck yourself on two, then three fingers.

"You're not wearing any panties??" he says too loud, but you're past caring who hears, or if anyone even walks in. You'll gratefully fuck the store manager and the security guard who'll probably come to haul you away.

Derek keeps his gaze averted as you continue shamelessly fucking your hand, reaching inside your dress to twist your nipple. "Derek.. fuck.. you just gonna stand there and be useless?" You shove a fourth finger in your snatch, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your boyfriend is deeply afraid as he risks a peek from between his hands covering his face. "You look possessed! You have to stop or someone's going to hear you!"

"Baby, please, put your cock in my mouth," you beg, still working yourself into a frenzy. "Jizz on my face, anything, please!" You're on the floor now, riding your own fingers, your other hand madly strumming at your clit like a perverted version of air guitar.

There's a knock at the dressing room door, to which you answer "Go away, we're fucking" Then you come, squirting all over the bathrobe Derek was going to gift his dear mommy.

"You're lucky that guy didn't turn us into the police," Derek says, tight-lipped as he leads you back towards the center of the mall. "Got it all out of your system?" He's leaving the store embarrassed and minus any gifts.

"Yes," you sigh in exasperation, though it's a bald-faced lie. The need is growing again and you're just a slave to it. Your hands itch to go up your skirt again, to relieve the tension before it becomes unbearable.

And there he is, right where you left him before. Fucking Santa Claus. Like he's been waiting for you this whole time.

"Let's take a picture," you pull on Derek's hand. "Please? End the day on a good note?" You do your best to look contrite but all you're thinking about is sitting on that sleazy man's lap, maybe getting felt up. It'd be fucking amazing to have someone touch you besides your own fingers.

Before he can even protest you're practically skipping past the velvet rope and traipsing up the candy-cane lined walk to the big green chair where Santa sits. His eyes already on you, he pats his lap, tongue peeking out between his lips.

Derek follows after, but is stopped by one of the elves, who tells him he has to pay in advance for a photo.

"And what's your name?" Santa murmurs, discreetly adjusting himself as you seat yourself on his lap. "Does it matter?" you ask, subtly lifting the back of your skirt as he pulls his thick hard cock. "Guess not," he chuckles low and deep, then hisses as your slick tight cunt envelops him.

"My fucking god," he says lowly, doing all he can to keep from thrusting up into you as your boyfriend comes up, all smiles as he watches you get cozy with Santa. He makes as if to sit on Santa's other thigh. "Not you," Santa grunts, his hands on your waist as you clench and throb around him. Derek holds a smile and stands to the side opposite you.

This, this is what you needed. His cock isn't even all the way in, the way you pulse around him pushes him out a little until his hands grab your waist, as if to pose you for the camera, and pushes you down, bottoming out within your sopping wet cunt.

"Gonna leave a mess on me," he murmurs. "Already got my lap soaked. And the suit's a fuckin' rental."

His breath smells like cigarettes and cheap booze and it's only making you want him more. "Fuck, I needed this.."

"You been a good girl this year?"

"Not at all."

He leans in and whispers: "Good girls get presents. Bad girls like you get to sit on Santa's fat cock." He shifts his lap up a little, jutting up into you and you bite your lip to barely suppress a moan.

Your picture is being taken with Santa but you could give a shit. Cockwarming him while he's whispering filth in your ear is the most fun you've ever had.

"Does baby girl want a candy cane?" he asks when it's time for you to go. Derek goes to pay, leaving you alone with Santa again. "We have some more in the elf cottage, You gonna come get one? Gotta earn it first.." His gloved finger traces your arm. "C'mon, ditch the wanker."

The elf cottage is a sparse room for the Santa's Wonderland employees to take their breaks, and right now it's filled with the sounds of flesh slapping on flesh, your moans muffled by the fluffy red hat he put there to quiet you as he bends you over the folding table and rams his holly jolly dick into your stretched needy cunt.

"That's it, baby, fuckin' take it. Let Santa stuff your tight lil' stocking," he grunts.

You moan around the red fluff of his hastily discarded hat, throat burning with all your pent-up screams. Christ, you've never had anyone so disgusting, so eager, so perfect to satisfy this itch that you've been unable to scratch yourself.

And lord, his cock is the most filling thing you'll ever have. You already know he's going to leave you gaping for the next few days.

He watches the ripples of your ass as you throw it back on him, taking his entire fucking shaft so that with each thrust his balls thwack against your inner thighs. "Tight and wet.. lil' bitch in heat, ain't ya?" he teases, circling his hips so you feel him against every square inch of your aching snatch. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, finally spitting out the stupid hat.

"Fuck me Santa, fuck me Santa, fuck me Santa," you chant in broken moans, pushing your hips back, demanding it hard and fast, which he gives even as you come, clamping down all around him in a vise grip.

"Jesus," he growls, pulling out and kneeling behind you. He purses his lips to your dripping cunt, wiggling his tongue against your folds before licking a wide stripe upwards, teasing your asshole with his tongue. You practically shove your ass against his face, his gloved hands spreading your cheeks to get better access.

Grabbing a candy cane from a basket on the table you unwrap it with your teeth and hand it to him. It's thick and hard, and Santa knows just what to do with it. Feasting on both your holes, he takes the candy cane and watches it disappear into your glistening pussy. Hearing your gasp encourages him to keep going, fucking you as his tongue keeps rimming your ass, delving into tease you.

There's a knocking at the makeshift cottage door, then a moment of silence and a "God damn it, Joel, not again!" from the other side. "Fucker's always doing something," the person, most likely one of the elves at the cash register, mumbles and walks off.

He's back inside you, sliding the candy cane between your lips, moving it in and out just as he moves in and out, keeping you spread open so he fill you with every inch. "Babygirl likes havin' somethin' to suck on, don't she?" he mutters, pumping steadily into you. "Gotta be a good girl and tell me where ya want it."

"Inside me," you beg, and he moves double time, hands on your shoulders as he ruts up against you, slamming every inch until you cry out again, knees buckling as you come hard and Santa Joel follows soon after, his jizz painting your insides in warm sticky ropes.

"Lick me clean, baby," he murmurs, and you immediately go to your knees, taking him deep into your mouth, your jaw aching as the tip of him hits the back of your throat. When you gag he keeps you there, your mouth filling with saliva until it spills out from your lips, mixed with his cum. You bob your head on his length, eyes watering as you look up at him, your cunt still throbbing as you start to leak him on the floor.

"Fuuuuck yes," he growls, hand on your head, teeth sinking into his lower lip as you suck him off, and it's a Christmas miracle he's hard again, and he's about to come. He holds your head still and facefucks you, your hands cupping his ass to stop him from going too shallow-- you need to be deepthroated for once in your life.

Santa Joel lets out another curse as he uses you to come, spurting his Christmas magic down your throat. "There's a good girl. Babygirl's thirsty for what Santa's got, huh?" he teases as you greedily swallow every bitter, salty drop.

Clothes are straightened before you leave the little elf cottage, but the look of satisfaction is plain on your face as you suck on the candy cane that you'd been fucked with only moments before. Santa Joel puts his hat back on his head and shuffles over to the helper elves. "I'm goin' out for another smoke break," he tells them.

The head elf puts her hands on her hips. "Joel, you're not allowed to take ten smoke breaks an hour!" But by then he's already on the way out, both middle fingers in the air to salute her.

Derek joins you, looking puzzled as he studies the holiday photo -- there's something off about the face you're making in it. "Did Santa give you that candy cane?"

Grinning, you slurp up the sweet peppermint that still has traces of your own flavor on it. "And then some."

dividers by @saradika 👑

Tagging those who showed interest: @clawdee @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @myownwholewildworld

@penascigarette @hoelaris

#joel smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fan fiction #bad santa!joel #mall santa!joel #pedro pascal character headcanons #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal cinematic universe #ppcu #ppcu fanfiction #ppcu fandom

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zevrra · 2 months ago

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hi! jayce x reader where she (or they whatever) is working in the lab w him and the experiment goes a little haywire, getting her hurt? please make my man as pathetic wet dog guilty as possible bonus points if you mention the beard please thank you

includes: [fluff!] something goes wrong in the lab and jayce feels really bad about it!

ft. jayce x gn!reader

extra(s): i hope i wrote jayce pathetic enough for you anon!! thank you for the request and i hope you enjoy it!! (also i love the beard and will take every chance i can to mention it KSHSKH jayce is SO FIONE)

you had wanted to surprise your lover, jayce talis, so you showed up to the lab with some lunch for the two of you. he hadn’t expected you and was so happy to see you. soot covers the side of his cheek as he wears his cute little goggles, hair a mess as he turns his back on his latest project to greet you.

“baby!” jayce chirps happily. his hands find your waist as he settles to stand before you, leaning down to place a kiss against your lips.

you smile and roll your eyes at your goofy boyfriend. moving his goggles out of the way before kissing him back. “thought i’d drop by with some food. is that okay?” you ask as jayce wraps you up in a hug. you move your thumb across his face, wiping away as much dirt as you can with a furrowed brow; it was never easy cleaning his face with his beard now. “maybe you should shave?” you tease him with a soft laugh, wiping your hand across his lab coat.

jayce pouts at your words, running a hand along his bearded chin. “what, you don’t like it?” he asks with a lifted eyebrow before shaking his head to get back onto the topic of food. “anyway, you have perfect timing actually! i could use your help with this…thing while we eat.” jayce sighs as he gestures towards the project he’s probably been slumped over for too long; hence the length of his beard. you smile as he joyfully takes the food you offer him before moving back to the lab’s desk while dragging you along with him. “i just don’t know what i’m missing.” he mutters as he takes a bite out of the snack you’ve brought him, leaning against the desk. his eyes glance from his notes, to whatever hex project he’s got sitting on his desk, before looking over at you.

you settle in beside jayce with a smile as you reach to pick through his notes. your eyes scanning over his messy handwriting as thoroughly as you can while jayce rests a heavy hand on your waist, needing to keep you close at all times when it’s just the two of you. something you dearly loved about the man. “have you tried upping the voltage?” you ask as you read through the notes; to which jayce nods in response, mouth clearly full. “what about switching the plus and minus here around?”

jayce stops his snacking for a minute, clearly thinking about your proposal, as he considers the option. he sets his lunch down and turns around to face the notes in your hand, reading over where you point to. “no but…here, i think channeling energy here instead might work!” jayce states with a newfound confidence, slipping his goggles back on as he fully turns to the hex project.

and then it all happens so fast.

seconds within jayce toying with the rune, an explosion sets off. the light blue shimmer of magic raises every hair on your body; and it sends a cold, dreadful shiver down your spine. you barely have time to react to get away but luckily, jayce does. his hands are grabbing your body, yanking you away while turning his back towards the explosion, pulling you entirely into his chest to cover you from the blast. thankfully, by some miracle, before the “big boom” the rune fizzles out and dies, and only a very small shockwave shatters some nearby glass; leaving you and jayce intact but shaken up.

after it quiets down, you manage to peel your face off of jayce’s shoulder and look around. his desk is a mess, notes mixed with broken glass lay all over the floor— meanwhile smoke rolls silently around the project. jayce, suddenly realizing that he and you were both, in fact, still alive, gasps, squeezing you a little tighter before barely pulling inches away.

“oh gods,” jayce mutters as he quickly scans over your face. he pulls you gently further away from the blast, hands roaming your entire body to inspect you before caressing the side of your face. his thumb wipes gently along your face as he inspects a cut you didn’t know you had. “shit!” he curses under his breath, hazel eyes full of agony and sorrow as he looks at the wound inflicted upon you. “are you ok? does it hurt anywhere else?”

your heart beats hard in your chest but you shake your head at his question, still in shock from moments ago but relatively you’re physically okay. your hand slightly trembles as you manage to reach up and touch where his hand gently caresses you, feeling the sticky of your blood from your open cut. it stings, pretty good, but not deep enough to need any kind of stitch work. jayce holds your face dearly in his hands as his eyes fill up with tears. “i’m so sorry. my god i could’ve killed you.” jayce practically sobs as both of his hands hold your face gently now, pressing his forehead against your own. “i’m so sorry love. please forgive me.” he mutters, defeated as he holds you.

you take a deep breath in, hold it for a second, then release it; squeezing jayce’s hand gently. “jay, it’s not your fault. please, are you okay?” you whisper in a worried tone, pulling away just enough to look at him.

“i don’t care about me!” he responds with a tremble to his voice; seemingly biting back his sobs.

you shake your head, giving his hand one more squeeze. “well, i care. now come here.” you frown before taking a step back and dragging him along with you. without struggle, he let’s you lead him further away from “ground zero” and finally allows you to check him out now. and thankfully jayce has only suffered a few small cuts to the long coat he wears. and if it weren’t for that damned lab coat he wore, things could've been a lot worse. “you’re okay.” you sigh with relief, smoothing your hand across his jaw and neck. “no serious bleeding or any open wounds that i can see.” you add with a soft smile.

but his eyes continue to tell you how upset he is. unhappy at all about the injury on your face but he remains unscathed. he can barely look at you; and when he does, he stares at the scratch along your cheek. “i can’t believe i got you hurt.” jayce says, drooping like a wilted flower as he looks up at you through his eyelashes as he sits down in a cleaner area.

“jayce, darling, you didn’t do anything. you can’t control the uncontrollable.” you hum softly, taking his face into your hands as he settles himself down. and at your touch he melts into your palm, puppy dog eyes staring up at you as one of his big hands covers over one of your hands.

“i am so sorry.” jayce mumbles with a sad pout.

you frown a little, pouting, as you move the flat of your palms across his beard, scratching his face just a little as you try and will his self blame away. “maybe this beard is just bad luck.” you grumble but the tease manages to get jayce to crack the tiniest smile. you chuckle as his face softens in your hands. turning his lips to kiss the inside of your palm.

“ha, nice try. i’m not shaving.” jayce teases with a smile he hides behind your hand. you mirror his smirk as he pulls you down to him, pressing his lips into yours in a tender kiss.

yeah. you two were going to be okay.

592 notes · View notes

beybaldes · 2 years ago

Text

it was simple, it was sweetness, it was good to know

Roy Kent × Fem!Reader

word count : 15.1k a fucking whopper I started writing and couldn’t stop this is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written in my life

summary : the 5 times Phoebe got dropped off at your house and the 5 times Roy realised he was in love with you.

content warning : tooth rotting fluff with the whole Kent family line, a little angst if you squint really really hard, allusions to smut towards the end but non actually written, me calling Roy’s sister Molly but I can’t remember where I first saw it, no use of yn.

masterlist

a/n : if you want to see a spin off based on any part of this please dot because writing this has broke my writers block!!!! I’d love to write some more Roy <33

1. the first time

It had taken Roy about 15 seconds to decide he was going to drop Phoebe off with you.

When Molly had shown up on his doorstep at 5am, with an asleep Phoebe in her arms, citing she'd been called in for a surgery, he mentally rearranged his whole day to accommodate for his favourite girl. It wasn't until lunchtime rolled around that he remembered an important meeting with Ted and Beard that he, unfortunately, couldn't get out of. So, while brainstorming who on earth he could leave Phoebe with, his mind quickly settled on you.

You were sensible and probably good with kids considering he could remember a couple of mentions of a niece of your own, and he knew - given it was the weekend - that you'd probably be free to look after her. And, not to Roy's surprise, you'd quickly said yes when he called to ask if that was okay.

While it had only been 20 minutes since Roy called, he was already at your doorstep, Phoebe's hand held tightly in his as they waited for you to answer the door.

"Is she pretty?" Phoebe asked, eyes unmoving from the unfamiliar front door as she spoke to her uncle Roy.

Roy scoffed at the question, unsure where it had come from and why his niece couldn't have asked this in the car. If she'd asked in the car he would've given an enthusiastic yes, a smile creeping on his lips as he thought about you, and how you always looked pretty - even if you were in a Richmond pullover and sulking in your office - especially then, actually. "Why does it matter?"

Before Phoebe could answer him, your front door swung open, you behind it with a wide smile. No sooner then it had opened, you'd crouched down to Phoebe's level, giving her a small wave and a bright smile. "Hi Phoebe! I hope you don't mind that you've got to spend the day with me instead of your uncle Roy."

"I don't mind at all," Phoebe shrugged, the straps of her backpack moving greatly with the movement of her much smaller shoulders. "I see my uncle roy all the time."

The laugh that bubbled past your lips made Roy's heart skip a beat, and for a moment he forgot why he was even standing on your doorstep.

As you stood up straight, you gently took Phoebes hand in your own, pulling her closer to you and your home and giving Roy the opportunity to head off for his meeting. "We should let your uncle Roy get going then, shouldn't we?"

"Thanks again for doing this, I owe you one." Maybe I could take you to dinner as thanks? Roy wanted to add, but wasn't brave enough to do so. If he wasn't so head over heels for you, maybe it's be easier to do something about it.

"Don't worry about it," you brushed him off, gently pushing him off of your doorstep and back in the direction of his car, knowing he had places to be. "I'd like to think you'd do the same for me."

"Bye uncle Roy!" Phoebe shouted, giving him one last wave before running into your house, you quickly following after her to make sure she didn't injure herself exploring the new territory.

Thankfully, she made a b-line for your couch, climbing onto it and emptying the contents of her backpack out on the seat next to her. She pulled a colouring book into her lap and grabbed a fist full of pens, quickly pulling off the caps of her favourite colours and getting to work on her masterpiece.

"Have you had any lunch yet, Phoebe?"

"No, uncle Roy was about to make me lunch when he called you."

While you knew Roy was rushing to his meeting, you didn't realise he'd seemed to forget about it completely.

Phoebes lack of lunch had you searching through all your cupboards for something suitable to feed a 7 year old, and when you couldn't find anything you'd have wanted to eat at 7, your turned to her with a smile. "How do you feel about a trip to Tesco? You can pick out whatever you want for lunch?"

"Perfect!" Phoebe cheered, pushing her pens to the side as quickly as she'd picked them up, running back to your front door to put her shoes and coat on. As soon as she was dressed, you opened up the front door, grabbing your car keys from the dish by the door and directing her in the direction of your car as she ran ahead of you in her excitement.

"Phoebe, you don't need a booster seat do you?" While you had your own niece, she was still young enough to be in a carrier everywhere she went, so you weren't entirely sure what the protocol was for 7 year olds.

"I don't have one in my uncle Roy's car." That was good enough for you.

Phoebe spent the whole car ride to the shops chatting your ear off, bringing you up to speed on everything that was happening at school and football and how many times she'd been red carded this season alone. In many ways, she was like a miniature version of Roy, so it was easy to love being in her presence.

As you arrived at Tesco, you made Phoebe promise she'd stay close to you at all times, not wanting to lose her as soon as Roy had entrusted her in to your care - that wouldn't be good for anyone involved. Phoebe was quick to pull you by the hand in the direction of the frozen aisle, clearly set on something in particular for her lunch.

She broke free from your hold as you reached the end of the aisle, heading straight in the direction of the frozen chicken nuggets and pulling as hard as she could to open the door. Once she'd managed to pry the door open, she climbed inside of the freezer, attempting to reach one of the higher up shelves in search of what she wanted.

"Phoebe, sweetheart, let me help you." As you stood behind Phoebe, you put your hands under her arms, picking her up and bringing her to your height so that she could grab whatever she'd been looking for. "Turkey Dinosaurs? Good choice."

"The only correct choice, bruv." Isaac was right behind you, Colin on his left and Will on his right.

"Oh, boys, hi!" Phoebe leaned in closer towards you as the sudden appearance of the three men. While she'd exhumed confidence from the moment you'd met her a few hours ago, she seemed to shy away slightly at the sight of the three footballers. "What're you doing here?"

"Day off, innit." Isaac, never a man of many words, was quick to answer your question, though had one waiting for you in return. "Who's this?"

Phoebe's grip around your neck increased slightly again as Isaac pointed directly at her. You shifted her in your arms so that she'd face the three a bit better, knowing non of them posed any threat to her. "This is Phoebe. Phoebe this is Colin, Isaac and Will; say hi."

Now that she'd been introduced to them, a wide smile curled onto Phoebes face, her toothy grin making an appearance that had Colin and Isaac smiling right back.

"I didn't know you were a mum." Will spluttered out, staring at you and Phoebe with a rather surprised look on his face.

"Oh, I'm not," you were quick to reassure, though immediately regretted it as you had no clue how to explain how this child they'd never seen before had come into your care. You knew Roy well enough to know he loved his privacy more then anything, so you decided the best course of action was to keep it. "She's my niece."

"Cool." Isaac nodded, prompting the others to nod on silent acceptance of the knowledge they'd just gained. "Can you pass me a bag of the turkey dinosaurs, Phoebe?"

As soon as Isaac got his bag of turkey dinosaurs, he, Colin and Will were quick to leave, waving a goodbye to the two of you and getting on with the own shop. Once they'd left the aisle, you let out a loud sigh, pent up tension from the sudden reunion seeping out of your body. Phoebe dropped the turkey dinosaurs into the basket you'd picked up, wiggling out of your grasp and taking your hand instead.

"Why did you tell them I was your niece?" Phoebe guided you further down the frozen aisle as she questioned your actions, walking a few paces in front of you, your connect hands dangling between the two of you.

"Your uncle Roy is a very private person," you started, unsure exactly of what was the right thing to tell a 7 year old on such a matter. "I didn't want to tell them you were Roy's niece in case they decided that meant something more"

"Something more?" Phoebe wandered out loud, stopping in front of the ice cream section and pulling the door open. "Like if they though that meant you were dating my uncle Roy."

Jesus Christ, 7 year olds were so much smarter and observant then you'd thought. "Yeah, something like that."

"And why aren't you dating?" You didn't know what to say to that, instead opting to pick Phoebe up once more so that she could reach the specific tub of ice cream she was searching for. "My mum says uncle Roy should date someone nice and you're nice."

"Well I'm glad you think I'm nice, pheeb's." You ruffled the blondes hair as you placed her back on the ground, allowing her to place the ice cream in the basket before grabbing her hand once more. "How about we grab a pizza too? Just incase you're here for tea?"

Phoebe loved the idea, sprinting down to the end of the aisle in search of the pizzas with a wide smile on her face.

The rest of your day with Phoebe had flown by, you'd come home and eaten your lunch of turkey dinosaurs and potato waffles, done some colouring in, played knights and dragons, eaten your ice cream, and watched a movie. As the first spy kids had come to an end, something you'd put on at phoebes request all though you were heavily invested in it the whole time, you put the pizza she'd picked out in the oven.

"Phoebe," you shouted from the kitchen as you made your way back into the living room. "It's getting kind of late, sweetheart, do you have any pjs in your bag?"

"No," she instantly replied, licking her spoon clean of ice cream even though it only really added to the rim of vanilla that had formed around her mouth. "I don't pack pjs in my bag because I have some in my room at uncle Roy's house."

If you'd have had the common sense to ask earlier, you might've picked some up while the two of you were in Tesco, but you hadn't, and now you had to make do with what you had. "You want to get in some of my pjs pheeb's? I'll get into pjs too and then we can be all comfy while we eat our pizza and watch spy kids 2."

"I won't fit in your pjs." Phoebe countered, but got off the couch nonetheless, placing her empty bowl on your coffee table and joining you by the kitchen door. Lacing her fingers through your own she allowed you to guide her in the direction of your room.

She dove straight for the bed when you opened the door, similarly to how she'd made a b-line for your sofa earlier in the day when she'd arrived, but was quick to hop right back off of it when you opened your wardrobe doors. You stood quietly behind her as she picked out one of your T-shirts to act as a night dress.

"This one!" She proclaimed, quick to swap her current outfit for your top before sprinting out of your bedroom. Before you could ask what on earth she was doing, the oven started to beep. "Pizza's ready!"

You picked up the pile of clothes Phoebe had left behind, throwing it by her shoes at the door so that you wouldn't forget to pack them up whenever Roy came to collect her. Then you went back to the kitchen, clicking the timer off to stop the loud beeping and pulling the pizza out of the oven. Phoebe stood behind you doing some kind of 'pizza dance' as she'd called it as you cut it into 8 slices, grabbing one big plate to place it onto.

"Race you back to the sofa." Phoebe didn't need to be told twice, running for the sofa and throwing herself into the mess of blankets, pillows and felt tip pens. As soon as the two of you were comfortably settled, you put spy kids 2 on, the pair of you tucking into your dinner without a thought spared as to where Roy was or just how late it was really getting.

Though you didn't remember falling asleep, a knocking at your front door had you waking up. Sometime between pizza and now, Phoebe had crawled into your lap, and instead of waking her to go to the door, you scooped her into your arms, resting her on your hip as you stumbled sleepily from your sofa to your front door.

When you opened the door, Roy looked like he'd been prepped with an apology, something about how he'd never meant to come back so late and how he really owed you one now but his words befell him at the sight of you and Phoebe on the other side of the door.

It was a sight to behold, especially to a lovesick Roy. Your hair was all tousled and you still looked half asleep, Phoebe was fast asleep in your arms and in what he guessed was one of your shirts. "Roy," you crooned, opening the door even wider. "Come in, I just need to pack up Phoebe's stuff."

Roy shuffled into your living room, his hands still tucked stiffly in his pockets as you began to pace around the room packing phoebes things while she was still in your arms. It was a level of domesticity Roy hadn't been prepared to see when he came to pick up his niece, and it sent his head whirling.

It was almost too easy to imagine you in this position with him, and a child of your own in your arms instead. He shook the thought from his head, bending down to pick up phoebe's day clothes and shoes from beside the door as you put all her felt tips back into her bag, along with her colouring book - save the first drawing she'd done which she'd torn out, demanding you keep it to remember your day together.

When you were certain you'd collected everything from the couch that had come in her bag, and put it back where it belonged, you turned to face Roy with a sleepy smile. "How was your coaches meeting?"

A smile curled on Roy's lips, something rare that almost surprised you to see. "Good. Long. But we got shit done so I can't really complain; although it would've been nice if it could've wrapped up before fucking midnight."

"Oh my god, is it that late?" You passed Phoebe's backpack to Roy, watching fondly as he slid one strap over his shoulder like clockwork. The thought couldn't help but slip into your mind that it was a sight you'd like to see more often.

"What did you two get up to today?" Roy asked, pulling Phoebes coat from the hanger by the door and slinging it over the crook in his elbow.

"Well, we went and got some lunch, and did some colouring, and played knights and dragons and watched spy kids 1 and 2. She kept me nice and busy, don't you worry."

Roy reached out for phoebe, taking her slowly and gently from your hold in his best attempt to keep her asleep as he took her home. "Not too busy I hope."

"No just the right amount." You bit back a laugh, cautious to not wake the sleeping child now that she was safely in her uncles arms. Pushing a strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail back behind her ear, you thought back fondly on the day you'd shared and how easily It was to get on with Phoebe. "She's a great kid."

"Yeah, she really is." Finally, Roy was back on your doorstep, Phoebe in his arms and the pitch black of night behind him. "Thanks again, I really owe you one."

"It's no issue, really, I had a great time." You closed your door too, you leaning against the edge of the it being the only thing keeping it open. "Always happy to do it again, if you need me."

A million different responses crossed Roy's mind, some just inappropriate and some really fucking corny, so he settled on the easiest one to say. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." You responded with a small wave, creeping back into the darkness of your house without another word.

As Roy made the short walk down from your front door to his car, he tried to control the erratic beating of his heart less it wake Phoebe up. Though you'd offered to take Phoebe in again if he ever needed it, he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to take you up on the offer, not when the domestic scene of you with his niece made his feelings for you even more intense.

—————————————————————————

2. the time when Roy had too many appointments

Though Roy had sworn he wouldn't drop Phoebe off with you again for the sake of his own feelings, he was calling you up to ask if you could look after her again less then a week later. Molly had been called into work again last minute, and it just so happened to be on the day when Roy decided to get all his check ups out of the way in one fell swoop.

You'd assured him through the phone that it was okay, and that you'd absolutely love to hang out with her again, however, when you'd asked how soon he'd be dropping her off the line went quiet.

"That's the thing," Roy started, a hesitance to his tone that told you he was reconsidering this whole request and on the verge of rescheduling his 5pm dentist appointment. "You'd need to pick her up from school. I can pick her up from 7pm, at the latest, so you'd just need to pick her up from school and give her some tea. I hope that's not too big-"

You didn't let Roy finish his sentence. "It's no problem Roy, really. Send me the address and I'll be there at 3pm?"

"Pick ups at 3:10, but that's perfect, thank you." You couldn't even see him and you could feel the smile that was pulling at his lips on the other side of the phone. "I really fucking mean that too, thank you."

"It's no problem Roy, really, I'll see you later."

You had an hour before you needed to pick Phoebe up, so you made a run for Tesco, picking up a jar of pasta sauce incase she didn't want the half a bag of turkey dinosaurs and potato waffles that were still in your freezer, a bag of popcorn incase she didn't want ice cream again, and a set of kids size 8 pjs.

Though Roy said he'd be back for her by 7pm, you doubted she'd want to stay in her school uniform, and it'd be better to get a size 8 and it be too big then pick up a size 7 and it be too small.

On a second thought, you grabbed a second pair of the plain pjs, and some tiny slippers, knowing it wouldn't harm anyone to keep a spare pair of comfy clothes and shoes for her incase she came by again at the last minute. While you were in the kids clothing section, you picked up a pair of jeans and a pack of plain T-shirts, wanting to be prepared incase she were to ever show up in her pyjamas instead of her day clothes. Deciding you'd got everything you needed, you sped through the checkouts and got in your car, not wanting to be late to pick up Phoebe from school.

Luckily, you arrived with 5 minutes to spare, lingering around the gate with the other parents that had come to pick up there kids. Only then did it dawn on you that you may have needed some kind of note to prove you weren't kidnapping Phoebe and as you pulled out your phone to text Roy in a frenzy, you'd discovered he'd already sent you a message.

Teacher knows you're coming, I got Molly to send a message. might ask you to sign some shit confirming you picked her up though.

Even though Roy wasn't here, you felt ten times calmer, moving through the gate as it opened and towards the classroom door furthest from it, as Roy had told you to go to. A loud bell rung and suddenly kids came sprinting out from all directions, some running straight to and out of the main gate and others nervously looking around for whoever was picking them up.

You watched as a head of blonde hair in two neat plaits lingered in the classroom door, eyes scanning the playground for a familiar face, her mouth dropping open in a gasp as she made eye contact with you. With a cry of your name, Phoebe came running from the classroom, a bright smile on her face at your sudden appearance outside her classroom. "What are you doing here?"

"Your uncle Roy has got the dentist, so we're going to go back to mine for tea - if that's okay pheeb's?"

"That's perfect! Lets go home." Phoebe tried to pull you out of the playground and back to your car, but you pulled her back to stand in front of you.

"One minute sweetheart, got to make sure your teacher knows I'm not kidnapping you." Phoebe lead you right back to the classroom door, calling on her teacher, Ms Bowen, as she dragged you into the room. "Hi, Ms Bowen, I'm here to pick Phoebe up; I think Molly told you I was coming?"

"Ah yes, Mrs Kent, it's a pleasure to meet you." Mrs Kent Mrs Kent Mrs Kent. Molly, Roy's sister, had told Phoebe's teacher that you were Mrs Kent. It took everything in you not to absolutely spiral with the new piece of information.

"Yeah, lovely to meet you," You tried to avoid Ms Bowen's gaze, it having an edge to it that suggested you weren't entirely welcome here. "Roy said I might have to sign something, so you know I'm not fucking kidnapping her or anything." As soon as the words slipped from your mouth you were apologising for them. "I'm so sorry that just slipped out."

"Well, at least I can be sure you're Mrs Kent. You and Phoebe are free to go." You barely had time to say goodbye to Ms Bowen before Phoebe was dragging you towards your car, impatiently pulling at the handle in an attempt to get in quicker and spend even more time with you. If you weren't so caught up in the fact you'd just been called Mrs Kent, then maybe you'd find her excitement even more endearing.

"So, how was school, pheeb's?"

The car ride back home was filled with another update from Phoebe on what you'd missed in the 4 days you hadn't seen each other and the 3 days of school she'd had since the weekend. Since it was a slightly longer drive back home then from Tesco, you'd even got to introduce Phoebe to some of your favourite songs.

As you pulled onto your street, Phoebe was already buzzing in her seat, desperate it seemed to get inside. Letting her make a run for the door as you got out of the car, knowing she couldn't get in without your key, you made your way around to the boot, pulling out your bag of goodies. "Got you some stuff to change into pheeb's," pulling out both the pyjamas and the normal clothes, you handed them to her, keeping the slippers in the bag still. "Go get changed and bring me your uniform when your done, yeah? I'll pop it in the wash for your mum and we can put on a movie or something until tea time."

Phoebe was sprinting off in the direction of your bedroom to change within seconds of you finishing speaking. In the two times you'd had the pleasure of meeting Phoebe she always seemed to be rushing and running about, but that was what kids were like, you guessed; even if she was the calmest child ever - and she was pretty calm compared to some of those other kids you'd seen in the playground today - you reckon you'd think she was all over the place, especially compared to yourself.

When Phoebe came back out in the plaid, pink pyjama bottoms and a plain white t-shirt, she declared she wasn't hungry yet and wanted to watch spy kids 3; telling you it was basically mandatory for you finished the movie series now you'd watched the first 2. You were happy to oblige of course, Phoebe cuddling into your side as you took a seat next to her on the sofa.

Half an hour into the movie, you whispered the question of what to have for dinner to Phoebe and she perked up at the mention of pasta, allowing you to bail on the second half of the film in order to make it. It didn't take long of course, but you were wary of the fact Roy was picking her up sooner rather then later this time around.

Roy. Roy. Even thinking of the handsome coach you worked with had your thoughts spiralling. Once you'd managed to crack your way through his hard exterior, you'd found one of the most thoughtful and caring people you've ever met, and if you didn't like him already, that side of him had you falling head over heels. The Roy that brought you coffee in the mornings when he stopped to get his own, the Roy that would buy you lunch without asking if you wanted any but would kick up a fuss if anyone else tried to get him to add to that order, the Roy that left sticky note reminders on the door of your office because he knew you'd forget something, the Roy that trusted you so much he was willing to leave his niece with you on multiple occasions. Your brain had been so consumed by Roy that you'd made him up a plate of pasta, and instead of putting it back into the pot, settled with covering it in tinfoil and giving it him to take home. However, before you could call Phoebe in to ask if she wanted cheese on top of her pasta, there was a knock at your door.

In an instant, you pulled the tinfoil back off of the extra plate of pasta, and opened the bag of grated cheese, then rushed to the door, opening wide to find Roy on the other side. "You're just in time for dinner." Without thinking, or so much as a hello, how are you, or how was the dentist, you grabbed Roy's hand, pulling him inside your house and into your kitchen. "Pheeb's dinner!"

"Uncle Roy!" Phoebe shouted, running into the brunettes arms, him bending down to pick her up. As soon as she was perched in his hold, she was quick to recount the days events like she had with you a couple of hours earlier, only pausing to answer your question of 'cheese?' and taking a fistful to sprinkle on her plate whilst finishing her recap of the day.

It was only then did Roy notice that you'd already played three bowls of pasta up, even though you shouldn't have been expecting him soon enough to eat with the two of you. Carefully he put Phoebe down, handing her her bowl of pasta and urging her to get back to the sofa and eat, promising that the two of you were right behind her.

"You made me up a plate?" Roy asked, part confused and part in complete adoration. The simplicity of it; such a small action meant so much to the retired footballer. Even in his absence you'd thought of him, made extra food for him, plated it up perfectly in time with his arrival. If he allowed his thoughts to wander, he would've revelled in the warmth of the action, in how loved it made him feel - as though normalcy was something completely within his grasps. As if it was something he could easily have with you.

"Yeah, of course I did. Can't have my favourite coach going hungry, can I?" You squeezed at his hand when you called him your favourite coach, and only god knows what would've happened if Phoebe hadn't called your name from the room over. Roy was certain he would've made a move; told you exactly the kind of effect you had on him, or squeezed your hand back, or even kissed you. Though he wasn't entirely sure, he knew he wouldn't have let the moment slip through his fingers so easily.

Although, when he walked into the living room, palate of pasta in hand, he received something better then anything that could've happened in your kitchen. You and Phoebe were curled up together on the couch, her little legs thrown over your lap and a pillow on her lap for her to balance her pasta on. Phoebe's head rested against your shoulder as she ate and you turned to see where Roy was, a smile curling on your face as you saw him in your kitchen doorway, pasta in hand.

You craved the domestic scene that was now playing out before you, like something straight out of a dream.

Phoebe's favourite place on your sofa had quickly become the corner, meaning the only space available was next to you. Roy, for once in his life, took full advantage of the opportunity, sitting as close to you as he could claim was suitable and allowing himself to really enjoy the moment.

Even when dinner was long finished, the three of you were curled up together. Spy Kids 4 had been put on in order to appease Phoebe's demands that you finish the series and Roy's arm moving to the back of your couch cushions, and in turn over your shoulders, meant he'd slowly moved closer to you. The two of you spent the movie talking in quiet whispers, you filling him in on any context needed from the first three movies and him telling you about his day full of appointments. The pair of you would've happily stayed there, on your couch, cuddled up together, forever, but Phoebe's gentle snores told you it was best for them to get going.

"She's already in pjs, so you don't have to worry about that and - oh!" You left Roy in your doorway, an asleep Phoebe in his arms in a mirror image of 4 nights before. "I washed her uniform so Molly wouldn't have to."

Roy's heart was bursting at the seams at the evening you'd shared, and now this? While it may not seem like much to most people, to Roy it was everything. Not only had you offered to look after his niece on multiple occasions at the last minute, you'd gone out of your way to buy her pyjamas that fit just because she was coming by, and you'd washed her uniform to take a weight off of her mum's shoulders - who you'd yet to even meet. It's like you were trying to make him fall ridiculously in love with you.

Love.

That wasn't a word Roy was supposed to use; at least not when you were only friends. But how could he not fall in love with you? He was sure that anyone who spent more then 10 seconds in a room with you fell in love with you; how could they not? You were so easy to love; selfless and caring in a way he'd never seen before, someone truly one of a kind.

"Seriously, thank you." Roy's face entirely softened as he spoke, tension seeping out from his features to a degree you'd never seen before. "I don't think you know exactly how much this means to me and Molly."

"Oh please Roy, It's nothing-"

Roy cut you off, his hand coming to rest on your arm, his thumb running up and down your forearm. "No. It's a fucking lot - and it means a fucking lot. Just accept the thank you, yeah?"

A bashful smile creeped onto your lips, your head ducking as you suddenly became very aware of the fact Roy was looking at you and touching you. "Okay, yeah, you're welcome."

"Perfect." Once again, you got a glimpse at the dazzling smile that Roy kept reserved for only the most important people in his life, the look of it alone making your knees weak. They only got weaker as Roy leaned in closer to you, placing a chaste yet scratchy kiss to your cheek. "Goodnight."

In a daze, you murmured a 'goodnight' back, this time waiting until he'd driven off before going back inside; and even then, you stood behind your door, processing exactly what had just happened and why you hadn't returned the sweet gesture.

Roy Kent and his adorable niece were going to be the death of you.

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3. the time you were meant to be going on a date

So far, in the three hours you'd been getting ready, you'd done your eye liner, wiped one side off, redone it, wiped the other side off and redone that, at least 200 times. You just couldn't get it to look right. And when you'd expressed to Keeley that maybe this was a sign from above you shouldn't be going on this date, she'd insisted, yet again, that you had to go because she was your perfect match.

Though you'd never met the girl, Keeley was determined to set you up with her, claiming from the very second she'd walked into KJPR asking about a job, she knew she was the one for you.

Part of you thought she just wanted to help you get over Roy, especially since this was the 9th blind date she'd set you up on since you'd confided in her about your feelings for the ruggedly handsome coach. Each one she'd claimed was your soulmate and each one, so far, had turned out to be a complete and utter douche bag. Despite her failure to actually find someone compatible for you, you greatly appreciated her enthusiasm and effort.

A knock on your door had you screeching down your phone at Keeley that you weren't ready for this, but one last twirl in front of the camera, and a 'you look hot as fuck babe' from the matchmaker herself, had you ready to face your date.

To your surprise, however, when you opened the door you were met with Roy, Molly and Phoebe, all in pyjamas and Phoebe's little hands curled into tight fists that twisted into the fabric of her uncles T-shirt. It took you a second to process the scene before you before you could offer a rather confused, "Hello?"

Though this wouldn't be the first time Roy had shown up with Phoebe on your doorstep, it was the first time he'd ever shown up unannounced and with his sister in tow. "This is a bad time, isn't it." Roy's sister, who you'd come to recognise as Molly, whispered, her gaze flickering across your knee length, fitted, red dress. "You look stunning though."

"Oh my god, thank you." With the silence finally broken, it was like your brain had brought the rest of your body up to speed, offending a hand out for Molly to shake. "Molly, right? It's great to finally meet you."

"Great to meet you too, I've heard great things." General pleasantries we're exchanged between the two of you, though it wasn't as awkward as it usually was when you were meeting new people, instead it was like bumping into someone you hadn't seen in a few years but genuinely missed.

In the noise of your small talk, Phoebe took the opportunity to whisper three little words into her uncles ear. "She's so pretty."

Roy's cheeks burned as his niece said everything he couldn't, and so easily too. It was obvious you were dressed up for a date in that long, burgundy dress that hugged you just right, and he was struggling to take his eyes off of you.

"So what brings you to my doorstep at 6pm on a Monday?" You asked, hesitant to ask at all incase you touched a sore spot. Molly had never shown up with Roy when he dropped Phoebe off, which told you this was potentially more serious then his other last minute drop offs - especially when he'd never shown up unannounced before. "Not that I'm upset that you're here or anything, just a bit confused."

"Clearly, you're on your way out, so we won't bother you, we just-"

You didn't let Molly explain, pulling out your phone, and sending to a quick message to your date and to Keeley, explaining some family stuff had come up last minute and offering to go out some other time. "My evening just freed up, actually." You offered Molly a genuine smile, taking Phoebe from Roy's hold and into your own. "Why don't you go and get into your pjs Hun, and then we'll pick out a movie?"

"Do you still have my ice cream?" Phoebe asked, tilting her head to look at you better. Now she was closer, you noticed her eyes were rubbed red, almost like she'd been crying.

"Of course I do sweetheart, and I've still got turkey dinosaurs if you've not eaten dinner yet."

A sniffly 'yes please' left phoebes lips before she got down from your hold, running into the direction of your bedroom without so much as a goodbye to her mum or her uncle Roy. When Phoebe was out of earshot, you closed the door a little, talking in hushed tones. "Is everything okay? What's going on?" And with a second thought, you added. "You don't have to tell me, I didn't mean to pry."

"Phoebes dad showed up." Molly simply stated, folding her arms across her chest protectively. "He knows he's not allowed around her, and we didn't know where else to take her while we dealt with him." Your heart ached for the little girl. In the short time you'd got to know Phoebe, you'd quickly come to absolutely love her to pieces - and you couldn't understand how anyone wold want to hurt her. Phoebe was a complete and utter ray of sunshine and, considering she was only 7 years old, was one of the kindest and smartest people you'd ever met. "You didn't have to take her, if we'd have known you had plans we wouldn't have just fucking shown up."

Molly sharply dug her elbow into Roy's side as she spoke, clearly signalling that she'd thought that Roy had had the decency to ask you if you would watch Phoebe before they showed up in your doorstep. A laugh bubbled past your lips at how offended Roy got by his sisters words, a comeback never leaving his lips as you interrupted him with a smile. "It's fine, really, I love hanging out with Phoebe. Besides, I wasn't really looking forward to this date anyway."

Now that caught Roy's attention. "Why not? You look fucking great, you'd have probably had a great time too."

Rather selfishly, Roy was incredibly thankful that they'd show up unannounced, he didn't want you to go on a date, and it seemed as if you didn't either. "Keeley keeps pushing me to go on these blind dates, it's not really my thing, but she keeps insisting she's found my soulmate, so I keep going on them to appease her." You leaned in closer to the two incase Phoebe heard your next words, though considering she was related to Roy, you knew she'd heard worse. "All of them have been fucking pricks so far though."

"Good thing we showed up then, yeah."

"Yeah."

Molly looked between the two of you with a smile bit back between her teeth, trying her hardest not to give anything away as she watched the two of you. "Well, we better get going, deal with this so we can take her off your hands as soon as."

Taking Phoebe's back pack from Molly's outstretched hands, you slung it over your shoulder. "Oh don't worry about rushing back, she's more then welcome to stay the night here. Do you need me to drop her off at school in the morning?"

"Oh no, she's all finished for summer now, so you don't have to worry about that." Molly's gaze lingered on you for a while, then she pulled you into a tight hug, cradling you in such a way you felt like a kid again. "Thank you so much for this. I really mean that."

Tears threatened to pool in your eyes at the genuine thankfulness to her words. Roy had told you before that he and Molly greatly appreciated you looking after Phoebe every now and then, but this felt so different to that - it made you understand why he'd told you to just accept the thank you.

"Yeah, of course, like I keep telling Roy, anytime you need me, I'm here."

"Oh, wait." Before Roy and Molly could head back to his car, he handed you a carrier bag that he'd been holding at his side since he appeared on your doorstep. "Your tshirt, and those pyjamas. I wasn't sure if you had anymore, and kept meaning to return them to you anyway."

"Ah, thank you!" Though you never said anything when Phoebe raided your closest, she'd picked your favourite sleep shirt, and you were glad to have it back. "I got another pair of pyjamas for her in my wardrobe anyway, or she could've just used another one of my shirts; she would've been fine either way. But, thank you Roy, I appreciate it."

"Yeah, no worries, washed them for you and everything so, they're all good to go." Molly shouted a goodbye to Phoebe who had made herself comfortable in her spot on your couch, and then said one to you, thanking you again for your help. You said one last goodbye to both her and Roy, waiting on your doorstep to wave them off before going back inside to tend to Phoebe.

Once Roy had driven out of your street and had started on the journey back to his sisters place, she turned to him with a shit-eating grin on her face. Molly had been waiting years to be able to tease Roy about someone he liked, and while he'd had plenty of flings over the years, nothing was ever serious enough, and non of them were ever nice enough, that Molly felt like she could get a rise out of Roy by teasing him. This time though, she knew it was different.

"She's incredible." Molly started, keeping her gaze intently on her brother, though his remained firmly on the road. "She cancelled her date to look after Phoebe, already had a change of clothes and food for her, and she's fucking hot." Molly let out an overly loud sigh as Roy ignored her words. "So tell me why on earth you haven't made a move on her yet? Because if you don't, I certainly will."

"Fuck off." Roy grunted, his grip on the wheel tightening at his sisters words. "She's obviously not interested in me like that if she was going on a date with a fucking stranger." Now that he'd started talking on the matter, Roy was worried he'd never stop. He'd not yet had the opportunity to talk about his feelings for you, the matter being as simple as he wasn't sure who he could tell. He even went as far as considering calling a diamond dogs meeting to get the weight off of his chest, but luckily, or rather unluckily for Roy, his sister had beaten the diamond dogs to it. "I wouldn't want to ruin what we already have anyway. She's so... good, with, like, everything. She's so kind, and she cares so much about everyone else; did I tell you she made me dinner when I asked her to pick Phoebe up when I had the dentist? And Phoebe! She's so good with Phoebe and I just- fuck!"

"That hard to get the words out, huh?" Molly teased, poking her brother sharply in the arm. "You must really like her." Before Roy could interrupt with what Molly knew would be another iteration of 'fuck off,' she added. "She likes you too, y'know."

"I'm sorry," Roy gasped, eyes tearing away from the road for only a second to stare at his sister incredulously. "Did you forget she was about to go for dinner with someone who isn't me?"

"Yeah I know that stupid," Molly scoffed, folding her arms back across her chest as she sunk into the seat of her brothers car. "But I did see the way she was looking at you - the way you were looking at each other - and I'm telling you, she likes you."

"Shut the fuck up." And that was that. Molly didn't need to tease Roy any further because she knew she'd hit a sore spot. Roy really liked you, and not that it mattered but Molly really liked you too - and Phoebe absolutely loved you - but Roy was still too scared to ask you out. That was punishment enough.

Phoebe hadn't seemed phased by the departure of her mum and uncle, and a part of you was thankful for that. Though you didn't really know anything about Phoebe's dad, apart from what you'd learnt in the past 10 minutes, you were surprised to see she'd bounced back pretty quickly.

"So pheeb's, you want dinner now, or in a little bit?" Throwing yourself next to the blonde on the sofa, she was quick to cuddle into your side, wrapping both her arms around your bigger one.

"Can we have dinner now, please." She whispered into the warm skin of your arm, her fingers scratching at the fabric of your dress.

"Of course we can sweetheart." You squeezed her in for a tight hug, before standing from the couch, quickly putting on the oven and pulling the turkey dinosaurs and potato waffles out of the freezer. You lingered in the doorway as you waited for Phoebe's dinner to cook, watching as she searched for a movie to put on while the two of you ate. She seemed so much more relaxed then when you first opened the door, and you hoped it's stay that way now she was here and safe. At the beeping of the oven, your turned away from her, plating the two of you some dinner and quickly returning to the sofa.

With a pile of dinner plates and ice cream bowls on your coffee table, and a movie minutes from ending, you turned to face Phoebe with a soft smile. Brushing back the hair that had fallen into her face, you gently woke the girl, telling her that it was time for bed now. Too sleepy to fully wake up, you picked Phoebe up, opting to carry her to your guest room instead. However, when you'd tucked her in and tried to leave, she'd gripped tightly onto your hand.

"Can you stay with me?" If her quiet and sleepy state didn't have you agreeing, the knowledge she was in an unfamiliar environment would've. Even though Phoebe had been in your house plenty of times now, she'd never stayed the night before, and it was easy to understand how that might freak her out - especially on top of the night she'd had.

"Yeah. Come on then." Instead of sleeping in the guest room, you picked Phoebe right back up, carrying her to your room and putting her down on the left side of your bed. Finally having the opportunity, you sat down at your desk, pulling out a packet of makeup wipes, and wiping off the eyeliner you'd worked so hard to get right. Even though your date never got to see it, Roy did, which was even better as far as you were concerned.

Just as you'd finished brushing your teeth, in fresh pyjamas, and making a mental note to buy a toothbrush for Phoebe next time you went to Tesco, you heard a shrill cry of 'mum.' Running back into your bedroom you found Phoebe wide awake with tears in her eyes, looking around in an urgent search for the woman she'd just cried out for.

"Hey, Pheeb's," you soothed, flicking the bedroom light back on before you approached her, not wanting to freak her out more. When she recognised your face past the haze of sleep, she was quick to reach out for you and you were quick to cross the room to meet her, pulling her into a hug and rubbing soothing circles into her back. "We're at my house remember, your mum and uncle Roy had to do some stuff so you're having a sleep over with me, okay?"

It took a good half an hour for Phoebe to fully calm down, but once she had, she was out cold again. This time, you lay in bed beside her, keeping an arm wrapped around her shoulders to make sure she knew she was safe. Before you went to sleep yourself, however, you sent Roy a text, leaving out the details of phoebes nightmare and just keeping him updated on things.

Phoebe's out cold so don't worry about picking her up until morning. Breakfast is at 8. There will be a plate for you and Molly whenever you get here xxx

You didn't wait see if he replied, and didn't worry yourself over if three x's at the end was too many, setting an alarm for 7am and putting your phone into do not disturb.

Thankfully, you beat Phoebe and your alarm to waking up, giving you a head start on making breakfast. If you knew anything, it was that kids loved sweet stuff, and given Phoebe's affinity for ice cream, you knew waffles were exactly what she needed this morning. Ted had given you a waffle machine as part of your present in last years Secret Santa and promised you you'd find a use for it eventually, and you were slightly surprised to find out he'd been right.

You got right to work on the batter recipe that came with the machine, letting Phoebe sleep in until the point you were ready to cook them. Though she'd been reluctant to wake up at first, at the mention of waffles and ice cream for breakfast, she sprang out of bed, hesitating in your hallway as she heard a knock at the door.

"You wait here while I get it, yeah pheeb's?" Phoebe nodded silently, creeping down the rest of the hallway so that she'd be able to hear who was at the door without being seen. Although you were 90% sure it was Roy and Molly on the other side of the door, you didn't want to risk anything.

Looking through your peep hole, your suspicions were proved right. "Good morning Roy, Molly." Phoebe came sprinting round the corner at the mention of her mums name, running right into her arms as you opened the door wider for her. "Waffles and Ice cream for breakfast, think we all deserve it, yeah?"

Molly mouthed a thank you at you as Phoebe directed her towards your couch, Roy allowing you to close your front door then following you to the kitchen.

The image of you, still sleepy and in your pyjamas, hair mused and making breakfast for him and the rest of his family, made his heart twist and his stomach churn. In some cruel twist of fate, everything he wanted was right in front of him but it wasn't that which he could call his.

"I know it's non of my business," you started, placing two scoops of mix into the two waffle shaped holes in the machine Ted had bought you then closing it, flipping it over, and scooping up another spoonful of mixture ready for when these ones were done. "But, is everything okay? Are Phoebe and Molly okay now?"

Why did you have to care about his family so much? Moments like this made Roy think you knew of his feelings for you, and that you were doing every thing you could to push him to tell you. Surely you had to care for him, at the least, not everyone would do what you did for him, and definitely not with the same level of enthusiasm and genuine happiness to do it.

"Yeah, everything's okay." Roy kept it short, knowing that ultimately, it wasn't his story to share. "Are you okay? I know we kind of ruined your plans last night."

"How many times am I going to have to tell you that I didn't even want to go?" The laugh that bubbled past your lips had a smile forming on Roy's face. He loved how easy it was between the two of you here. Sure, you made him smile and laugh at Nelson road all the time, but at Nelson road he felt like he had to be Roy Kent: here, he could just be Roy, Phoebe's uncle. And you really liked Roy, Phoebe's uncle. "Besides, I had a better evening with Phoebe, and the 10 minutes I spent with you and Molly, then I would've had on the date anyway."

"How can you be so sure of that?" Roy's voice was even deeper then usual, not that you'd ever thought that was possible, from tiredness, and you'd only just noticed that he was still in his pyjamas, much like yourself. "That you wouldn't have enjoyed yourself?"

Roy leant over you, not noticing how blood rushed to your cheeks as he took the first two waffles out of the machine for you, allowing you to get the second lot started without hurting your fingers from picking up the fresh waffles. "My hearts not in it, you know?" You turned to press your back against the counter top, now chest to chest with Roy in the closest proximity you'd ever been. Neither of you made an effort to move. "The whole dating just to date isn't for me, I don't think. And if I'm going to date to, um, to marry someone, I'd much rather it be someone I know, someone who knows me."

You were worried you'd been a little too on the nose in your explanation, but Roy didn't seem to mind. He leant forward slightly so that he could rest his palms against your countertop, caging you in between his muscular arms. "Is that right?" You nodded silently, allowing your gaze to flicker down to his lips now that he was inches away from you. There was no way you were reading too much into things this time. "And, would that someone, would they have to be anyone in particular?"

"Yeah, yeah they would." You answered breathlessly, tilting your head back up so that your gaze would meet Roy's but instead brushing your nose softly against his.

Roy was finally going to do it.

A cry of your name and the padding of footsteps had Roy stepping away from you, Phoebe running into the kitchen with Molly hot on her tail. "Are the waffles ready?"

"You came at the perfect time!" You answered, brushing the moment off of you, and turning back to the slightly cooled waffles, sliding them down the counter towards Phoebe and Molly along with the ice cream scoop. As they plated up their waffles, you took yours and Roy's out of the machine, putting them onto plates and giving them time to cool before you added your ice cream on top. You watched intently as Molly and Phoebe plated up their food, your fingers drilling against the countertop in wait.

The second they'd left the kitchen and headed back to the living room, you turned to face Roy, leaving him no time to think as you grabbed the front of his shirt and pressed your lips to his. It was hot and messy, the two of you fighting to condense several months worth of building tension into one moment. At even the slightest of noises from outside the kitchen, you pulled away, turning your back to Roy immediately and scooping some ice cream onto your cooked waffle.

"Want ice cream on yours?" You asked Roy, turning to face him. His cheeks burned red and breathes heaved from his chest as though he'd just run a mile, his hair was a little more tousled then it had been when he first walked into your house and his lips were red and wet.

"Fuck the ice cream."

Roy grabbed you by your waist, twisting his fingers into the fabric of your sleep shirt to keep you close to him as he pressed a firm kiss to your lips. Roy's free hand moved up to caress your cheek, his other hand snaking around to rest on your lower back, pulling you even more into him. Moving one hand up to his hair, you kept the other on his shirt, keeping him close to you. While you'd imagined Roy to be a smooth kisser, you'd never imagined the day would come where he would actually be kissing you.

At a call of both your names from Phoebe, you broke apart once more, passing Roy his ice-cream-less waffle and pushing him out of your kitchen, taking full advantage of the fact that if he sat down first, you'd have no choice to to sit basically on top of him. You were sure he wouldn't mind.

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4. the time when Molly dropped Phoebe off instead

"And that's why the two of you need to get married."

Roy had been actively avoiding you since your kiss in the kitchen two weeks ago. And this was the 4th time in two weeks that Molly had asked if Phoebe could come over; two of them due to the fact both her and Roy were busy, and the other two being due to the fact Phoebe needed to have 'girl talk' with you. So far, girl talk had consisted of Phoebe listing reasons as to why you and Roy were perfect for each other.

"We're not going to get married, Pheeb's."

"But why not?" Phoebe dramatically collapsed into your sofa cushions, ignoring the fact her over the top tumble had knocked over one of your piles of folded washing in favour of going back to questioning you. "He talks about you all the time. And I see the way you look at him when he drops me off and picks me up."

"But he hasn't picked you up or dropped you off in two weeks sweetheart," you were back in the uncomfortable scenario of exposing something to a 7 year old, and you were trying your hardest not to let your confused feelings towards Roy interfere with what you wanted to say. "So, I don't think he wants to see me anymore. And that okay! But it also means we're not going to get married."

"But why not?"

"Phoebe." Your sterner tone had Phoebe sitting up right, her legs dangling over the edge of the sofa. Putting down the freshly washed t-shirt, you knelt down in front of Phoebe, taking her hands in your own and squeezing gently. "It's not that simple, sweetheart," pushing a strand of hair back behind her ear, she met your eyes. "I wish it was, but it is isn't. Me and your uncle Roy aren't going to get married, Pheeb's, but I'm sure he's going to find someone amazing someday, and you're going to love them."

"But I don't want him to find someone else amazing." Phoebe sulked, tears brimming at her eyes as she thought about a future without you and Roy together. While she was definitely thinking of the worst possible outcomes, the potential it could come true alone was enough to send her to tears. "I want him to find you! I don't want my uncle Roy to marry someone else because then I'll have to hang out with them and not you and- and- and-"

"C'mere." You pulled Phoebe fully into your arms, adjusting yourself so that you were both sat comfortably on your couch. "When your uncle Roy finds someone he loves, and he wants them to be a part of your life, I'll still be here. And you can always come and hang out with me, whenever you want. That isn't going to change Phoebe. I care about you a lot, okay?"

Phoebe couldn't find the words to express what she was thinking. She wanted to scream that you were the person her uncle Roy wanted be a part of her life, that you were the one he loved. Even though she was only 7 years old, she was certain that she knew what love was: and love was the way you and her uncle Roy had sat together, eating waffles for breakfast and talking with her mum, love was the way you and her uncle Roy talked about your day in a whisper over spy kids 4 because you wanted her to enjoy the movie still, love was the way it took her uncle Roy exactly 15 seconds to decide he wanted you to look after her on that Saturday 2 months ago. But she didn't know how to say all that in a way she could get you to understand. She'd tried everything and you still wouldn't digest the crumb of Roy's love that she was trying to explain to you, so she settled on the saying the best thing she could.

"Promise?"

"On my life." You ruffled her blonde hair, causing a smile to pull at her lips. You went back to folding your washing and Phoebe went back to watching her movie, like the two of you always did.

The peaceful moment was unfortunately interrupted by a loud and quick succession of knocks at your door. You put down the shirt you'd been folding and even Phoebe paused her show to come and see who was at the door.

"Jamie? Hi, what- what are you doing here?" Phoebe seemed to have some idea, walking past you to grab Jamie by the hand and pull him to sit on your sofa.

"I invited him." You had too many questions to counter that statement, mainly how she'd contacted Jamie and why he didn't bat an eye at being invited to your house by a 7 year old. "We need to discuss uncle's day."

Phoebe had told you about uncle's day - a day to celebrate her love for her uncle Roy - but you weren't entirely sure where you and Jamie fit into that puzzle. "Why do you need me and Jamie to discuss uncle's day, Hun. I don't think your uncle Roy would want either of us to celebrate uncles day with him."

"Of course he would!" Phoebe cried, pulling out her notebook and one of her felt tip pens, flicking to a blank page in her notebook and writing 'uncles day' at the top neatly. "Jamie is his best friend and Uncle Roy loves you, of course you've got to be there!"

Before you could remind Phoebe that you'd just had a conversation about why that wasn't the case, Jamie turned to face you with a wicked smile. "I knew you and Roy had something going on."

"We don't."

"Is that why he's been all moody at training for the last two weeks?" At your silence, Jamie took it that he was correct, a gasp slipping past his lips. "Did you turn him down? Of course it's okay if you did, but why?"

"No. I didn't turn him down." Phoebe's ears pricked up at that, making you realise exactly how what you were saying sounded. "I can't turn him down if he never asked me anything."

"But something happened?" Jamie pushed, leaning his elbows on his knees, Phoebe sat in a scarily mirrored image of him beside him.

"Fuck off." You scoffed, a smile curling onto Phoebe's lips. In the weeks you'd spent hanging out with her, she'd filled you in on every inside joke she shared with her uncle Roy and everything that made him the best uncle ever. "You can bill your uncle Roy for that one Pheeb's." Phoebe flicked back to the front of her notebook, adding a line to a very long list of tally's that had accumulated there.

Jamie tightened his gaze on you, readjusting his headband so that it kept his hair out of his eyes better. If it weren't for the unwavering, and slightly creepy, nature of his gaze, you were sure you would've just kept it to yourself.

"I kissed him." You'd attempted to mouth the words at the striker, but he hadn't picked them up, instead mouthing them to himself over and over again until he loud out a loud gasp, repeating the words out loud. Phoebe let out a squeal, jumping up and down on your couch cushions in complete and utter joy. An hour ago you'd told her you and her uncle Roy would never get married and know you were admitting that you'd kissed - things were coming up Phoebe, she'd decided. "But, he hasn't spoken to me since."

"Yeah, but that's what Roy's like, you know?" Jamie extended an arm to you, encouraging you to crash down in between him and Phoebe on the couch. You took him up on the offer, curling into his side and letting Phoebe curl into yours. "He's like, super mean and cold on the outside and once he lets you get to know him, he's all... all soft. And I don't think he knows it's okay to be soft sometimes." You let your head fall against Jamie's shoulder, Phoebe nodding beside you at Jamie's words. "I think you've got to show him it's okay for him to be all soft. Cause he really does care about you, I just don't think he knows how to tell you that."

"That was," you didn't even have the words for it. Somehow, Jamie had crawled inside your brain and soothed the exact source of your worry. "That was very insightful Jamie, thank you."

"No worries, I'm proper smart when I want to be me. Plus, when you spend so much time around the guy, it's hard not to see past that façade he puts up." Jamie removed his arm from around your shoulders, rubbing his together and then loudly clapping. "So, uncles day-"

You, Phoebe and Jamie spent the rest of the after noon feasting on whatever snacks they could find in your cupboards and planning out every little detail about uncles days. The pair had convinced you to make an appearance even if you and Roy hadn't reconciled come uncles day; Phoebe wanted you there and that was enough for you. By the time 5pm had rolled around you'd offered to get started on dinner for the 3 of you, but Jamie said he'd best be heading out and Phoebe reminded you her mum was picking her up soon enough anyway.

"Pheeb's, go and get your bag your mums here." When you opened the door, however, you were surprised to find Roy on the other side of it, his hands shoved into his pockets and half facing away from you. "Oh Roy, hi, I didn't know you were picking Phoebe up."

"Me either," he grunted, staring intently at the floor as he let out a long sigh. Finally, he looked at you, shifting nervously under your gaze. He's practiced what he wanted to say at least 200 times on the way over; he knew Molly asking him to come pick Phoebe up was her pushing him to talk to you. All he wanted was to talk to you. But he was too scared of fucking things up and loosing you entirely that he'd resigned to the fact that he would just have to avoid you for the rest of his life. For once, Roy needed to just do it, to tell you how he felt and throw sensibility to the wind. If you liked him, and that kiss wasn't a heat of the moment thing, then great; if you wanted nothing to do with him? He'd figure it out. All he had to do now was-

"Jamie? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Jesus, Roy, hello to you too." Jamie scoffed, pushing his hair back and out of his eyes then folding his arms across his chest. "I was just dropping off something for Keeley. Don't get all jealous on me old man, I'm not here to steal your missus." Jamie then turned to you, wiggling his eyebrows at you suggestively now his back was turned to Roy. He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek before running down your driveway, presumably to escape the clutches of a pissed of Roy. "See you later love, you too Phoebe!"

"Bye Jamie!" Phoebe shouted, waving enthusiastically at her new friend then turning to her uncle Roy with a frown. "You owe me £1, uncle Roy."

"Bill me." He took Phoebe by the hand, taking her backpack in his other and walked away from your doorstep without so much as another word to you. Phoebe yelled a goodbye before she get in Roy's car but Roy continued to ignore you, even as you waited on your doorstep to wave them one last goodbye.

Roy spent the whole drive back to molly's and the rest of the evening absolutely kicking himself. Part of him wished he'd just come out and said it while he had you alone on your doorstep, but the worse part of him - the part that didn't believe he was worthy of you - told him Jamie being there was a sign it wasn't the right moment. And maybe, he thought, the right moment would never come.

Jamie was right. You were going to have to be the one to show Roy it was okay to be soft; especially with you.

—————————————————————————

5. the time where Roy told you how he felt

Phoebe had kicked up a fuss when she found out she was going to have to spend the night at her uncle Roy's, which was a massive surprise to everyone involved. It was well known that Phoebe loved spending time with her uncle Roy, and no matter what Molly or Roy said to her, they couldn't get a confession out of her as to why she didn't want to sleep at her uncle Roy's tonight.

When Molly had dropped her off, for the first time in years, Phoebe cried at the though of her mum going to work, and that told Roy enough that he was in for an eventful night.

He'd tried absolutely everything. He'd offered pizza, turkey dinosaurs, spaghetti, ice cream, popcorn and every favourite food she'd ever had in an attempt to wipe that frown off of her face, but nothing had worked. He'd even willingly been the princess in princess and dragons, put on a fucking tiara and tutu and she still didn't budge from her place on his couch. When bed time finally rolled around, he'd spent 6 hours in silence with Phoebe, a frown etched onto her poor, little face that all he wanted to do was turn into a smile.

The first sound he got out of Phoebe all day was a loud and shrill cry of your name at 4am. Roy ran for the first time in months from his bedroom to hers, terrified as to what could have his niece crying out for you in the early house of the morning. When he arrived on the scene, he was met with Phoebe sat upright in her bed, tears spilling down her cheeks and her hair sticking up in every direction. Her tiny fingers were death gripping a teddy bear that Roy had bought her when she was a baby and when she saw Roy in her doorway, her sobs only got louder.

Roy was quick to cross the length of the room, scooping his niece into his arms and holding her tightly against him, whispering soothing words into the crown of her head and running his fingers up and down her arm. Usually, this method would have Phoebe back asleep within half an hour, but as the clock pushed closer to 5am then 4am, he knew things were different this time. With each sob came a long pause, filled with shaking of shoulders and sniffles galore, and the occasional whimper of your name. Whatever had upset her, clearly wasn't going to be fixed with the usual uncle Roy remedy, and so Roy picked Phoebe up, slipping on his slippers and walking out his front door with his car keys in hand.

While the drive to your house had never been quick, it felt even longer then usual today. Phoebe spent the whole drive over still sniffling, and even though her tears had stopped flowing, the ache it caused in Roy's heart made it feel like they'd never stopped. In his whole life, he'd only seen phoebe this inconsolable a handful of times, and even then, she'd always been responsive to his attempts to find out what was wrong. The fact she kept calling out your name amidst her tears made his heart ache all the more.

It was no secret that since he first dropped phoebe off at your house all those weeks ago, the two of you had become practically attached at the hip. He loved phoebe, and as much as he tried to deny it, he loved you, and he loved that two of the most important women in his life loved each other, but he didn't think he was ever going to be brave enough to let you in in the way the he wanted to. Phoebe had happily voiced her opinions on the matter the last time he'd picked her up from your house, happily proclaiming that the two of you needed to get married yesterday and live happily ever after with 2 dogs and a family trip to Disney world. Roy had told her the two of you weren't going to get married and Phoebe had scoffed, saying that you'd said the exact same thing and she didn't understand why when you loved each other.

If he wasn't so distracted by how distraught Phoebe seemed, he'd have maybe taken the time to consider this was some wicked scheme she'd concocted.

When he pulled up outside your house, like he expected for 5am, all your lights were off, but with a still teary-eyed phoebe in his arms, he didn't think twice about knocking on your door with enough vigour you'd think his life depended on it. As far as Roy was concerned, it did.

Once he saw your hallway light flicker on, he let out a sigh of relief, a weight being lifted from his shoulders as you approached the door. The soft glow of the hallway light far behind you made you look more like the Angel Roy thought you were, your hands wiping at your eyes as you tried to wake up. Before you could ask what was going on, or why Roy and Phoebe were on your doorstep so early on this summers morning, Phoebe was throwing herself from Roy's arms with a cry of your name, blubbering into you shoulder the most words she'd said in the past 12 hours. "I had a nightmare."

In that moment as Roy watched you take his niece into your arms and comfort her more in 10 seconds then he had seemed to be able to do in an hour, he knew Phoebe was right that day in the car.

He was in love with you, and he was pretty sure you were in love with him too.

Roy closed your front door behind him, following behind you as you carried phoebe towards your bedroom. He couldn't hear what you were saying to her, but he could see how easily she relaxed in your hold - it made him relax knowing that whatever had plagued her nightmares was being calmed, even if it wasn't by him.

As you finally entered your bedroom, your bedsheets tousled from when you'd got up to answer the door minutes ago, Phoebe had dropped back to sleep in your arms. You weren't entirely sure if it was your words that had sent her back to sleep or if she'd tired herself out from crying so much, but you didn't dwell on it, tucking her into your bed and pressing a kiss to her head. Turning around, you found Roy leaning against your doorframe, the tight, grey shirt not leaving much to the imagination as to what was underneath it. Taking him by the hand, you pulled him back down your hallway and into your kitchen, leaving him in the doorway, you clicked the kettle on and pulled two large mugs out of your cupboard.

"Can't believe you got her talking." Roy whispered, suddenly very conscious of the fact it was 5:30 in the morning and you were no where near awake as he was. "I couldn't get a word out of her, except your fucking name."

You nodded as he spoke, putting a tea bag into each before and then, when the kettle had whistled and clicked, filling them 3/4 full of hot water. "So, she didn't tell you what her nightmare was about?"

"Wasn't even entirely sure it was just a nightmare until I heard her say it here."

"She thinks you're not going to let her see me anymore if you marry someone else." You'd both heard tearful stories from Phoebe about how scared she was that you two weren't talking anymore, but you'd never realised just how much it was affecting her. "I've talked to her about it before, you know, promised her I'd always be apart of her life even when you found someone you were going to marry, but I didn't think it was stressing her out this bad."

Roy didn't take a sip of his coffee when you passed it to him, instead looking at you confused while you took a long sip of yours. "What makes you think I'm going to marry someone else?"

"Well, you know what I mean Roy." You took another long sip of coffee, waking up more and more with each drink. "We're not going to get married, and I don't want phoebe thinking that you're not allowed to live your life and keep me in it."

"Why are we not getting married?" Roy's question had you stuttering and stumbling to try and make a sensible and coherent answer. It was one thing for him to show up at the crack of dawn and speak to you for the first time in weeks. It was another for him to now be suggesting he wanted to marry you. "I'm not sure if you realised, but I don't just go around introducing Phoebe and Molly to everyone... and I don't go around kissing just anyone either."

"Well, that's rich," you scoffed, using both hands to bring the warmth of your coffee closer to your face. "I'm not sure if you realised, but a normal person doesn't kiss someone like that, and then go no contact with them for nearly a month."

"Kiss someone like that, huh." Roy placed his untouched coffee down on your kitchen counter and took two steps closer to you, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he was now right in front of you. Though when you thought on it, he always had been. "And what exactly does that mean." Roy let his thumbs run over the exposed skin between your T-shirt and your pyjama shorts, the gentle motion sending tingles down your spine and causing you to arch yourself slightly into him. The smirk that formed on his face told you things were playing out how he wanted.

"You know," you whispered, letting Roy take your coffee cup from your hands and place it beside you on the counter. "Like," he gently cradled your hands in his larger ones, moving them to rest on his shoulders becket letting his fall back to your hips. "Like you want to be with them, like you-"

Roy cut your words off by pressing his lips to yours, using the momentum of his movement to tilt your head back, allowing him to get a better angle as he pushed his tongue past your lips. Quickly, you pushed him off of you, not giving him the chance to get a word in edge ways before you began to speak. "You can't keep kissing me like that, or at all actually, if you don't want this, us, whatever we are, to become something. Because I want it to become something." Jamie's words echoed though your head. Maybe you had to be the one to show Roy that it was okay to be soft sometimes, to let people in.

"I love how kind you are beneath all the gruff and cold exterior you try to put up. I love how fiercely you love Molly and Phoebe. I love how you leave little sticky notes on my office door so I don't forget to do things. I love how you bring me coffee in the mornings when you get your own. I love that you buy me lunch and get all grumpy when someone else tries to add on to the order." Sweeping your thumb across the middle of his brown, you brushed away the tension that had clearly been building there since the moment you'd pushed away from his kiss. "I love how your face gets all scrunched up when your confused and how you have the most wonderful smile I've ever seen but only let the people you love get a glimpse at it. I- I love you, Roy, but I can't handle you liking me one minute and ignoring me the next. I need you to open up to me about what's going on inside you head."

Roy pressed a kiss to your forehead, moving one hand up to cradle your face. If his heart wasn't already so full of you, it would've been now. Even though he'd known he was in love with you before this conversation in your kitchen, it had really consolidated to him why he was in love with you. You loved Roy Kent, Phoebe's uncle, lunch buyer and wonderful smiler.

"I've never been told I have a wonderful smile before." He pressed another kiss though this time it was to your temple, and the another to the end of your brow. "That's probably because you're right, I only show it to the people I love." Another kiss was pressed just below your eye, the scratchiness of his beard against your cheeks eliciting a giggle from you. "And I really fucking love you."

Roy leaned in for another, proper, kiss, though you dodged it allowing it to land on your cheek instead. "Is there anything else you wanted to say?"

Roy let out a loud groan, your head thrown back in laughter at the image before you. He shook his head at you though the wide and bright smile you loved never left his face. "I'm sorry I ignored you for 3 and a half weeks because I was a grumpy sod who couldn't talk about his feelings like a fucking grown up."

You hummed happily, nudging your nose against his, a smile now curled onto your own lips. "Yeah, that'll do just nice." Standing on the tips of your toes, you wrapped both your arms around his neck, pulling the two of you together. "Now, C'mere."

Roy happily complied, pressing his lips firmly to your own in a mess of groans and tongue, only pulling apart when you couldn't contain your smile any longer. Even then, he pressed a series of quick kisses to your lips moving them up across your cheek, along the tip of your ear and then down the side of your neck. You tilted your head to rest against his left shoulder, giving him better access to the right side of your neck, but before things could escalate any further, you gently pushed him away from you. "Phoebe is a room away."

"You've got a guest bedroom though, right?" Roy purred, resuming his attack on your neck, the scruff of his beard scratching against your skin sending shivers down your spine.

"She'll be up in an hour or so." You tried to deter Roy further although you didn't particularly have your heart in it, wanting more then anything to continue what you'd started now that the pair of you had everything out in the open.

"I can do a lot in half that time." He countered, his grip on you tightening a fraction and the kisses he was pressing against your neck now having scrapes of teeth to them.

Grabbing Roy by the chin, you turned him to face you, pressing a soft and slow kiss to his lips. "Please, with what I've got in mind, it's going to take at least twice the time we have." You revelled in the look of pleasant surprise that crossed Roy's features, pressing another kiss to his lips. Now that that was something you could do whenever you wanted, you weren't sure you were ever going to stop; he was just so kissable. "Want to help me make breakfast?"

"Where do you need me?"

You and Roy danced seamlessly around each other as you prepared breakfast for the two of you and Phoebe, sneaking kisses between exchanges of ingredients or just because you could. When things were nearly ready and it was just past 7am, you went to wake Phoebe up, careful not to startle her after the long night she'd had. Since you hadn't discussed with Roy anything about you telling Phoebe, you didn't mention it, letting her sandwich herself between the two of you as you ate breakfast together over reruns of adventure time.

Part of you couldn't believe that everything had pretty much worked out how you wanted it. Sure, it wasn't a nice feeling when Roy left you in the dark after sweeping you off your feet, but ultimately, the two of you were together, and with Phoebe snuggled between the two of you on your couch, you had a glimpse of the domestic life you'd dreamed of.

Roy was thinking something similar, looking at you and phoebe beside him. Something so simple as eating breakfast together had him dreaming of a future, that a few months ago, he never would've thought would be within his grasp. He could already picture a scene like this but with you slightly older, and still as beautiful as ever, two kids snuggled between you and a dog or 3 curled up at his feet. He hoped one day the image would be as real as the one before him right now.

"Shit, what time is it?"

"8am."

"We need to get going soon." Both you and Phoebe turned to Roy in confusion, heads similarly tilted in a way that had him fawning over the both of you. "Your mum is picking you up at 9am and you need to be dressed and ready to go, Pheeb's."

"Tell Molly to pick her up from here," you said, taking Phoebe's empty plate and stacking it on top of your own. Placing them both down on the coffee table, you turned to Phoebe with a soft smile. "There T-shirts, jeans and some shoes in my wardrobe, next to where I keep your pj's, yeah? And you know where your tooth brush is, don't you?" Phoebe nodded her head, still chewing her food, but with a kissed pressed to her temple, she was sprinting off in the direction your bedroom.

"You have day clothes here for phoebe? As well as pyjamas?" Roy whispered, a bright smile forming on his face for the millionth time this morning. This was a sight you were never going to get sick of.

"Yeah. I picked the day clothes up when you asked me to pick her up from school the first time, and then after you and Molly took her home after she slept over, I figured it couldn't hurt to also get a tooth brush and some other stuff. Just incase she ever needed them."

You'd never seen so much love and adoration in one persons eyes. "I fucking love you, did you know?"

Before you could respond, the padding of feet all the way down your hallway and across your living room filled your ears. "So you are getting Married?"

a/n : if you made it this far hello!! thank you for reading my first ted lasso fic, feel free to leave feedback and/or send in a request to my inbox!! much love <33 mwah

#ted lasso x reader #roy kent x reader #roy kent imagine #roy kent one shot #roy kent

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its-time-to-write · 1 month ago

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happy new year, ig

don’t hold me like you know me

“Remember when you broke up with me and suddenly my instagram feed was all about how you fucked a model?”

Jamie grimaces. “Do you have to bring that up every fucking time we’re together?”

“Yes,” you reply. “It’s funny to me. And it’s my revenge for you being stupid.”

“Pretty sure you and mum are the only two who find it funny,” he grumbles.

You snuggle closer to him. It’s cold outside, but you’re both bundled up and under two blankets. Plus there’s a fire going and sure, it’s warmer inside where your families are, but it’s quieter out here.

You say, “Nah, Simon thinks it’s hilarious too,” and Jamie groans.

“I’m a fucking idiot, okay? I get it.”

Your mum looks out the window and you pretend like you don’t notice. Yeah, you probably shouldn’t be out here with him. But she’s the one whose friends with Georgie and she’s the one who made the plans to spend Christmas together knowing full well what you and Jamie had been up to for the past year.

So she can’t really say anything.

It’s stupid.

It’s so, so stupid. You swore off situationships but apparently Jamie is the exception and you rationalize it by saying you know exactly what you’re doing so it’s fine.

It’s fine.

You’re only here a few days and then Jamie’s going back to training and you’re going back to work.

“Got any plans for the year?” you ask. Jamie shrugs and it moves you around.

“Nah, got some brand deal shit Keeley’s set up but mostly just keep training. Got the fuckin’ World Cup this summer, so…” he trails off.

What he doesn’t say is, so I’ll be near you. You let it hang in the air.

Instead he says, “What about you?”

You watch the flames from the fire curl into the sky. “Yeah, I’ve got a lot going on, I guess. Mostly work. And I’m moving to London in the fall.”

Jamie makes a noise. “Don’t read into it,” you warn before he can say anything. “It’s not for you.”

He sighs. “The fuck are we doing? Shouldn’t be this hard. We both fucking like each other. What if we tried again?”

You laugh. “Jamieee. Absolutely not. We barely made it out last time. I’m actually not sure we did, to be honest. And our mums would be fucking pissed if we messed it up again.”

He’s quiet at that. Too quiet.

“How’s Roy Kent?” you ask in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Hairy old prick,” Jamie mutters out of habit. “Wants us to fucking win the Prem and the Champions League, like we ain’t fuckin’ trying.”

You laugh. “I’m assuming he’s also thinking about the World Cup?”

Jamie groans. “Don’t fucking remind me. I want to win all that shit too, but Royo’s sadistic. Got us training extra. Beard isn’t any better, either. Always got his nose in some fucking book.”

He’s complaining, but you know he doesn’t mean it. He loves this shit. And you’re glad the team’s stable from Ted’s move back to America.

“Got you something,” he says after a few more minutes of silence. He gently pushes you off him so he can reach into his pocket.

You take the box from his hand and open it. It’s surprising. You’d already finished opening gifts, nothing particularly extravagant, and you certainly hadn’t expected anything else from Jamie. And definitely not as direct as this.

“Jamie,” you breathe, “how did you know?”

He grins as you look up to meet his eyes. “Asked around,” he replies. “Knew you’ve been wanting that bracelet forever and you’re too fucking stubborn to get it for yourself, so.”

He motions for you to hand it back to him, and you do. He takes it out and you extend your wrist. He fastens it gently. “You’ve gotta do more shit for yourself, yeah? Promise me.”

“Maybe,” you whisper, and he gives you a look. “Fine. But Jamie-”

“Kid,” he sighs.

“Don’t call me kid,” you warn. “You’re younger than me.”

“That’s why it’s fucking hilarious.”

“Jamie,” you try again. “Do you actually want to keep doing this? We see each other at the most random, inopportune times then we… you know…” you trail off.

“Fuck,” he interjects and you smack his arm.

Ow, he mouths.

“Look. You never date anyone. Everyone’s always speculating about it, and you never do. And I just wonder- I mean, I don’t want to presume but it seems like-”

“It is,” he says. “Can’t fucking be with someone else when I think about you all the time, can I?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Jamie Tartt. That is the stupidest line you’ve ever pulled.”

He’s already shaking his head before you’re done speaking. “Ain’t a line.”

Georgie looks through the window and smiles at the pair of you. It’s getting colder, and you’ll have to go inside soon, but you want to finish this conversation. You aren’t sure when you’ll have Jamie like this again.

“Why did you break up with me?”

He looks away at the fire, the sky, anything that isn’t your face. “Dunno.”

“Liar.”

He looks back. “You need someone better. I got scared. Same shit as always.”

You wrinkle your nose again. “That’s shit. Try again.”

Jamie toys with the bracelet on your wrist. You should slap him away, you should.

You don’t.

“I did get scared,” he says again. “Fucking… terrified. Been in love with you since I were eight and following you around, weren’t I? Everyone says shit like I don’t know what I’m doing, I fucking need to play the field or what fucking ever, and I guess I… listened. Then felt fucking guilty as shit.”

Neither of you are crying. It’s not that type of conversation.

“So.”

“So,” he echoes.

“We’re getting married,” he comments when you don’t say anything more, and that makes you laugh.

You push yourself out of Jamie’s arms and head to the door. “That’s ridiculous of you to say. And I’m cold. I’m changing and then I’m going out, want to come? Luiza texted.”

Jamie looks at you, and you can tell he’s debating his options carefully.

“Sure,” he finally says, the words puffing out of his mouth into the freezing air. “Sure.”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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mammoth-clangen · 10 days ago

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Behold! Big Kitties!

I wanted to make one of these for fun mostly, also because I wanted to slightly update how I draw the Fleets to fit the Homotherium mummy; mostly in the lack of carpal pads and that brown is the wildtype colour uvu

Notes that didn't fit: - Eye colours can be anything natural-looking except in Ice Fangs, which are always blue (that's actually where their name comes from) - None of the colour variants are sexually dimorphic (though some may be sex linked) - All species can be fluffier than shown here (especially in winter), I just shaved them here to show the varied anatomy - All the cats probably have a melanistic and albino variant but there aren't any in Kindred so I didn't include them - I'm never gonna draw the characters in Kindred with detailed patterns as shown here, that would take 554637 hours per page cx

Don't @ me about paleo inaccuracies bc there's a lot of intentional exaggerations e.g. how variable they can be, for the sake of making characters actually fun to work with + the Tuft Tails are basically just lions because their skeletal anatomy is sooooo similar but bigger (and lions are pretty)

Image ID

"Kindred of the Mammoth- Pleistocene big cats"

Fleet Fang- Homotherium serum. Tireless hunters of the steppe. Male: Tom Female: Molly Nonbinary: Motte Young: Cub Grouping: Kindred A drawing in a slightly more realistic style than Kindred of a brown Fleet Fang with green eyes and extensive barring running down her sides. There is a headshot of a tom with shaggy grey and white fur, who has his mouth open in a slight pant to show dental anatomy. Notes read: "Inverted neck hackle Patterns run laterally. Tufted ears Heart-shaped nose. All teeth are serrated No carpal pad Claws don't retract fully Skin usually dull pink Paler under-tail No sexual dimorphism Huge incisors, tiny lower canines Tundra morphs shaggy and pale grey" There are a few natural variants shown as well: dilute few spots, joined-barring (lateral stripes instead of broken spots), Open-saddle ginger, melanistic with paler grey markings.

Ice Fang- Smilodon fatalis ssp. Powerful hunters of the north. Male: Boar Female: Sow Nonbinary: Urs Young: Cub Grouping: Sounder A drawing in a slightly more realistic style than Kindred of a white, grey striped Ice Fang with blue eyes . There is a headshot of a boar with pale golden fur and a darker beard under his neck. He has his mouth open in a slight pant to show dental anatomy. Notes read: False eyes on small ears Powerful neck/shoulders Vertical stripes Very short tail Bear-like lower lip Only sabers are serrated Very large dewclaws Skin usually dull pink/brown Boars have a goat-like 'beard'. Wide nose, sideways nostrils. Huge incisors, tiny lower canines. There are a few natural variants shown as well: Faded stripes with a pale warm grey coat, Few stripes only on the shoulders and rump, Tawny morph with broken stripes (they form vertical bars), Abundism- heavy stripes that are interlocking and covering the whole body.

Tuft Tail- Panthera leo atrox Coordinated hunters of the plains. Male: Lion Female: Lioness Nonbinary: Leo Young: Cub Grouping: Pride A drawing in a slightly more realistic style than Kindred of a golden tawny Tuft tail (lioness) with amber eyes. There is a headshot of a lion with greyish fur and a tawny underbelly. He also has a darker mane around his neck. He has his mouth open in a slight pant to show dental anatomy. Notes read: Larger ears Long, flexible spine Nose darkens with age Robust non-serrated teeth Dark pawpads Patternless or faintly spotted Long, tufted tail Lions have a mane (but less full than African Lions) Lions much heavier than lionesses. There are a few natural variants shown as well: Completely spottless warm grey with a tawny underbelly, orxy type dark markings that outline the paler underbelly, retained juvenile spots and a reddish tint, fully grey morph that is entirely desaturated.

A note at the bottom reads: Kindred of the Mammoth, art, and these speculative depictions belong to PencilPavlova [END ID]

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sunny44 · 9 months ago

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Pornstache

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Girlfriend!reader

Warnings: smut.

Summary: Carlos puts on a moustache and it seems the effect was better than he imagined.

I woke up alone in bed in the morning, which wasn't unusual considering it was a race weekend, but Carlos got up earlier than usual so I started to get suspicious.

But since I didn't have to get up now, I went back to sleep and left it up to the alarm to wake me up at the right time.

When the alarm finally went off and it was time to wake up, I got up and went straight to the bathroom to have a shower before we left and as soon as I walked into the bathroom, I saw my boyfriend with just a mustache.

"Oh my God." I said shocked, looking at him.

"Tadam." He says and I'm still shocked.

"Why did you shave it off?"

"Well, we're in Italy and it's Luigi's home race so I decided to pay homage." He says excitedly. "You didn't like it?"

"I still don't know if I like it or not." I said and looked him up and down and saw that he was only wearing his underpants.”

"The mustache is up here." He says playfully and I roll my eyes and run my hands over his face. "So?"

"It's weird." He laughed. "But I have to admit you look very sexy like that."

"Yeah?" He asked, putting his hand on my waist and starting to kiss my neck.

"I need to take a shower."

"What a coincidence, me too." He said, taking off my blouse and making me laugh.

Instead of going to the bathroom, he picks me up and carries me to the bed and gets on top of me. Without much foreplay, we were both completely naked and Carlos was already inside me.

"You know what?" he stops.

"How about you get in on the action?"

"I thought you'd never ask." I switch positions getting on top of him.

I rest my hands on his chest as I begin to move up and down slowly.

He holds my waist and lifts his own, thrusting into me hard and fast, making me moan.

I start again with slow movements and gradually increase the speed, until I feel my apex approaching and the thrusts get deeper and faster, he grabs my breasts with his hands and squeezes, when I let out a louder moan, signaling that I've reached my apex.

I continued moving faster, and he reached his peak and so did I.

We caught our breath and he had a smile on his face.

I sit on his lap without taking his member out of me, just looking at his mustache.

"Can you take another round?" he asks and I agree.

As I was already on top of him, he just pulled me up, making me sit on his face and without giving me time to think, I felt his tongue on my pussy, and it was at that exact moment that I thanked God he had that mustache. I'm sure the feel of him in me made me come even faster.

When we'd finished, we decided to take a shower.

As soon as the hot water hits our backs, I feel the relaxation coming on.

He hugs me from behind and we stay like that for a few minutes.

"You know what we didn't do?" he looks at me confused, after I turn to him and just kneel in front of him, he already knows what's going to happen.

As soon as I reach the head, I suck slowly while he grabs my hair.

I start sucking him slowly and quickly, alternating between the two, keeping eye contact with him.

As I make the movements, he bites his lip and rolls his eyes, then he makes me go a little faster until he comes in my mouth.

He's a little shaky as I get up and he kisses me very hard.

Anyway, we finished showering and while I was in front of the bathroom mirror finishing my skin care, I felt him hug me from behind.

"Look, we've done enough exercise for the one hour we're awake. Actually, the one hour I’m awake." He laughs.

"I'm not after that. At least not now.” I laughed and wiped my face dry, then turned to face him. "Did you really like my mustache?"

"God knows how much." It was his turn to laugh. "Seriously, it feels completely different with just a mustache than with a full beard."

"Good to know."

"Now I can remember what I thought you looked like."

"Like what?"

"You look like a mob in a movie, or maybe a pornstar." Then he starts laughing.

"If we'd recorded what we were doing a while ago, I'd certainly be classified as a pornstar."

"We should have recorded it then."

"Are you serious?"

"If I didn't have to live every day in fear of someone finding it or it leaking, I'd definitely record us having sex." He's impressed and kisses me. "Get dressed because we have 20 minutes to be ready.”

"All right, I'll be right there." He releases me. "Have you sorted your clothes?"

"Not yet. But I already have something in mind."

He agreed and left, I did a quick make-up and then left the room to get dressed and that's when we left the hotel room to go to the race track.

…

As soon as we arrived, we could already see people's faces of shock and amazement when they saw Carlos' new style.

Either people would love it and think he was hot (like me) or they would think it didn't look good and that he looked strange without the rest of his beard.

"Woooooow, look at that." Charles says as soon as he sees him. "Y/n, you look lovely as always and you... What inspired you to leave just the mustache?"

"I thought I'd do something different, I was inspired by Luigi."

"Oh yeah, should we dress up as Mario and Luigi for the race tomorrow?"

"Absolutely." I say, making them laugh.

After chatting for a while, we went into the garage and I went to my usual corner while Carlos and Charles went to their driver's rooms to change and start qualifying.

The excitement on the race track was palpable as everyone prepared for the qualifying session. After my brief chat with Charles, I went to my usual corner in the garage, where I could watch all the action up close without disturbing anyone. Carlos and Charles, on the other hand, went to their driver's rooms to change and prepare for qualifying.

The atmosphere in the garage was one of total concentration.

Engineers, mechanics and strategists moved in a synchronized ballet of precision and efficiency. I knew that qualifying was crucial, and everyone was determined to do their best. I felt a mixture of anxiety and excitement as I waited for the session to begin.

When it finally started, the screens around me were filled with images of the cars leaving the pits and entering the track. Carlos was one of the first to leave, and I couldn't help but feel a shiver of anticipation and the worry that was always present in me.

"Come on, Carlos, you can do it!" I muttered to myself, clenching my fists tightly.

The first few minutes of qualifying were intense. Carlos was visibly focused, doing fast, precise laps. The team was in constant communication with him, providing data and adjusting the strategy as necessary. I watched every lap with my heart in my mouth, hoping that he would manage to stay among the best.

"Carlos, we're seeing good lap times. Keep it up." The engineer's voice echoed through the speakers.

He responded with a simple "copy", but his determination was clear. The track was hot and the conditions were ideal for a fast lap. Carlos made the most of it, driving his car with skill and precision. Every corner was a masterpiece, every straight a battlefield where he sought every millisecond.

As the minutes ticked by, Carlos continued to climb the timesheets. The tension in the garage grew with every lap. I could hardly breathe, so absorbed was I in the action. Then, in the last sector of the track, he did something incredible. Carlos set a perfect lap, beating all the other times and putting himself in P1.

"That's it!" I shouted, unable to contain my excitement. Some team members flashed me complicit smiles, sharing my joy.

Carlos' engineer was also elated.

"Great job, Carlos! Pole position! Stay focused, we're going to review the data.”

"Got it. Thanks guys." Carlos' voice sounded firm, but I could sense the satisfaction in it.

The final minutes of qualifying were a mixture of tension and anticipation. Other drivers tried to beat Carlos' time, but he remained unbeatable. Each attempt failed to surpass his brilliant lap. When the timer finally went off, confirmation came: Carlos Sainz had secured pole position.

The garage erupted in celebrations. The team was hugging each other, celebrating the extraordinary result. I too couldn't help but shout with joy, jumping up and down with excitement. Carlos got out of the car with a triumphant smile, and was immediately surrounded by his team.

"Congratulations, love! You were amazing!" I said, as he approached.

"Thanks, Hermosa." He replied, his smile widening. "I told you I'd do my best."

He winked at me, and I felt my face blush again. Carlos was overjoyed, and I knew that this qualification was just the start of something even bigger. He was determined to win, and I couldn't wait to see what else he could achieve.

As he walked away to take part in the post-qualifying interviews and appointments, I couldn't help thinking that the first questions would be related to his new look.

"And what about your new look, what made you do it?" I could hear a journalist asking.

"Because we were in Italy, I decided to do something different and I took inspiration from Luigi for my look."

"And your girlfriend, what did she think?"

"She liked it a lot." He says with a suggestive tone that only I seem to understand.

"That's great. Thank you very much and congratulations on your pole position."

It was the last interview so he came straight to where I was waiting for him.

"I'm going to have a quick shower and then we can go to the hotel."

"All right." He kissed me and I started laughing.

"Why are you laughing?"

"It tickles." I said, referring to his moustache.

"You didn't complain earlier when I was sucking you..." at the same time, I put my hand over his mouth, preventing him from almost finishing.

"Eww." We heard Charles as he passed us. "Save that for when you're alone."

"He didn't even finish his sentence." I said.

"Yeah, but from his sentence and the fact that you covered his mouth so he wouldn't finish it, I can already imagine what it was." Then he went into his room.

"I didn't complain before and I'm not complaining now, it was just a statement of fact." I said.

"That's good because we're going to do a lot more than we did this morning."

"Good to know." I kissed him. "Now get in the shower because I want to go back to the hotel, put on my pajamas and eat a hamburger."

"Wow, and where am I on this plan?”

"You'll be next to me in bed eating a hamburger too."

"The day before the race? What a risk."

"Then you eat soup." He laughs.

"Okay, I'm going to take a shower now."

...

In the end Carlos had to stay longer so I came to the hotel early. I took another shower before putting on my pajamas and going to bed.

I was watching TV and was almost asleep when I heard the door opening and I hoped it was my boyfriend because I wasn't in the mood to run away.

"Hey." I said to him as soon as I turned around and saw him taking off his sneakers.

"Hey, did I wake you?"

"No, I was almost there, but I hadn't slept yet."

"Sorry it took so long, it shouldn't have.”

"It's okay, I know how race week’s work." He kisses my forehead, changes his clothes and lies down.

"Come here." He pulls me on top of him and I nuzzle my face into his neck. "Good night hermosa."

"Good night, love."

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“I love the Pornstache guys.”

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bigification · 25 days ago

Text

Big Bears Beer

"Oh... I think I might have gone to the wrong place. Sorry." You tell a large bear of a man as you double check the address your agency sent you.

"You're here for the photoshoot right?" He asks you.

"Yeah..." You look up and meet the man eye to eye.

You jump for a moment. The man looks exactly like your manager, just buried under a couple hundred pounds of fat and a bushy beard. It's clearly not him though.

You eye the man up and down. He's massive, like American trucker stereotype kinda fat. And he has a big bushy beard with thick dark hairs from his chest, if you could even call those man tits a chest, poking above his collar. He seems like a far cry from the slender, well groomed men who usually run your shoots. In fact, everyone in the studio seemed to be similarly obese and hairy.

"Great, come follow me." The man says as he turns to walk away.

You struggle to hide the disgust on your face as you watch the man waddle in front of you. Your manager is gonna get an earful for setting you up with a bunch of obese brutes. But you go along for now because you need the money. Your manager said it shouldn't be a long shoot, so you tell yourself to get in and get out as fast as possible.

"Here grab this and go sit on the bench." The man says as he hands you an open beer bottle.

You audibly scoff when he offers you the bottle. It was getting hard to hide the anger and disgust in your face. Why would your manager set you up for a beer commercial, shouldn't some overweight middle aged dad do this. You roll your eyes and snatch the bottle from the man. They couldn't even bother giving you an empty one, or at least one that's filled with water. You wince as the rank smell of the beer reaches your nose.

You sit on the bench in front of a fake floral backdrop. All the negative emotions showing in your face disappear when you put on a super fake smile for the camera.

"We're just gonna need you to take a swig from the beer." The photographer shouts from behind the camera.

Everything in you wants to smash the beer bottle on the ground and walk out, but you need the money. You turn your face slightly away from the camera and lift the bottle up to your mouth. You brace for the disgusting taste of the beer to enter your mouth, but you relax slightly when you notice it doesn't actually taste so bad.

"Perfect! Love it." The photographer yells.

The camera starts flashing, and it feels just like any other shoot you've done. The beer is even starting to taste good, so you keep going. You barely even notice the fact that your clothes are starting to feel a bit tight, especially around your stomach and thighs.

"You're looking beautiful, big guy!" The photographer continues.

A warm feeling fills your body when he calls you 'big guy'. That dude is massive and he's calling you big guy, that must mean you look really buff right now. Wait, when did you care about being buff. It doesn't matter right now, you're focused on the shoot. The pressure releases in your stomach when buttons start pooping off your shirt, and the same happens to your thighs when your fly rips open. It feels good being able to just relax instead of sucking in your gut all the time, like other photographers make you.

"Stop holding back on us, we want to see the real you!" He yells.

You tilt the beer bottle completely vertical, that'll show them. You feel the cold breeze on your skin as your clothes begin to rip to shreds. Your big gut and broadening chest pop the last of the buttons on your shirt, and your thick biceps rip right through your sleeves. Your widening ass tears right down the back of your pants, and your tree trunk sized thighs shred the remains of them.

"Really let that bear out!"

One last surge of growth flows through your body. Your beer gut doubles in size, sagging into your lap and obscuring your thick cock. Your soft pecs swell into full on man tits that rest on top of your gut. And your ass thickens once more, now filling out all the space on the bench.

"I said I want to see the bear. Let him out!" The photographer yells with passion.

As you reach the end of the bottle, you feel a strange sensation covering your face. An intense itchiness erupts all over your fattened face and even on your thick neck. You can see the growing mustache tickle your upper lip as you drink, and the wiry hairs of your beard scratch your chest. Though the new warmth on your face is now contrasted with the coldness on your head as the hair thins, which leaves you looking much older than before.

"He's almost out, let go of your past and embrace the bear!" He yells one last time.

As the last drop touches your tongue, that familiar itchy feeling spreads all across your body. A forest of thick dark hairs now covers your arms, legs, back, gut, and especially your man tits.

You finally pull down the beer bottle, now making it look tiny compared to your hulking body. You look over at the familiar faces behind the cameras and smile, you're part of a family now.

"There he is. I knew it would be a good idea to set you up with this gig." The man who greeted you at the entrance says with a devilish grin.

"Now hold up the bottle and point to it, then we can finish up the shoot." The photographer asks.

"Soon I bet we could go international with this beer."

#male tf #masculine #male transformation #fat tf #hairy #reality change #male wg #age progression #fat belly

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therealslimshakespeare · 4 months ago

Text

|| Lizards

Benny x Lu full blurb

Without thinking, because she is twenty four now and has been to the beach and has swam with friends and has lived a life, Lu shucks her dress, her shoes, her slip and dives into the lake, nylon undergarments ruined and only just sufficient to be considered a covering. It’s fine, it’s normal, she comes up to the surface and she knows, somewhere far back in her mind she knows, her chest and its scar is visible but it doesn’t matter. The sun is bright, the water is reflecting so strongly she has to squint and through it all Benny is tossing his hair out of his eyes and laughing between puffs of exertion at treading water. He is laughing at having jumped in, at the fact she went for it, too. It doesn’t matter that her body is on display, as a gruesome curiosity or an incitement to desire.

She is swimming with Benny and it’s all just fine.

It makes the moment so utterly enjoyable Lu feels like all her longing to be out here, to be surrounded by this big vast world— it’s been close to right, very near what she’s needed, it’s just made a little better with him and that’s unfortunate as he lives in Chicago. Benny shouldn’t be in the city, he should be in a sparkling lake with minnows assaulting his feet and diamonds of water caught in his lashes.

They’re laughing at each other, so much so they’re close to drowning, and they don’t have to say why. It’s perfect.

She could count each of his lashes as she swims around him, so close and so circular she’s half minnow herself, Benny’s eyes don’t leave her face and he’s stopped laughing enough to look mildly wary at her antics. She’d like to count his lashes, she realizes, she never really thought of how many there were, distracted perhaps, by his beard at other times.

Back when he had a beard: she knew that about him. Back when she stuffed cardboard into her brassieres: he knew that about her.

She keeps circling him and can’t make any progress on counting his lashes because he begins to laugh again, but it’s short and aggravated and she waits for him to explain it, she knows he will.

“What’re you, half mermaid?” there’s quashed competition in his voice, he’s betrayed at her leaving off their giggle fit to actually swim.

“You sure aren’t.” she laughs back, his neck is almost fully in the water, “Those big strong shoulders can’t hold you up? Am I going to have to tow you to the rock?”

Benny takes the teasing well, his face clears if anything, quick to laugh at himself. “You’ve got an advantage, you come here a lot. I’ve been rottin’ in the city.”

Lu gives an approving nod at his conclusion, it aligns with her own. “Yes, so you’ve gotta fix that. You should come out here more often.”

He doesn’t need to come here. Here with her.

There’s all manner of woods and water and nature just outside his stupid city but that’s not an option somehow, not with the way he’s here with her when he could be in the woods with Jack or out on a boat with Maureen. He chose here, instead.

“Yeah, I should.” Benny just agrees because they don’t have to say all that, say that it feels right and different. It just is for now and they can let it be.

She watches him lay back in the water, floating along with the gentle ripple and his ears are below the water and his eyes are on the big blue sky above them and Lu thinks that’s a perfect idea so she floats back too, staring at the sky they once knew so well, wondering if he misses it like she does- in a way that’s half agony of separation and absolute terror of ever being made to reunite with it.

Bucky doesn’t get that; he’s still flying.

Ida and Gale would still be if their governments weren’t so shit to them.

Jack never wanted to but he’d done it for the country, for his people, because it was right. From how often Benny and Jack see each other, like they’re dosing each other up by sheer proximity, Lu guesses they shared that singular motivation.

She turns her head, one ear clogged and filled with water, her other cheek so far into the lake it’s almost lapping up her one nostril; but she can see Benny floating near her, he has his eyes closed.

He gets it, she thinks, heart so full she could cry from happiness for once.

“-don’t you want to fall asleep like this?” she wants to ask him, says it aloud only because she knows his ears are under the water, his face doesn’t even twitch, his eyelids are smooth without a crease of a squint or a frown around them, his nose is ever so gently upturned and Lu wants to place her hand under his head, keep him like this forever, let him enjoy it like she does, “You could, I’d keep you up, make sure you don’t drown.”

When Benny turns his face to her she blushes hot even in the freshwater lake, he looks like he’s caught her at something she shouldn’t be doing, a chiding look of kindness but it reminds her she shouldn’t be treading water and staring at his face like she loves him. If only he could see himself. He’d understand it then. Anyone would.

It’s Benny. And it’s perfect and before he pulls his head up fully he lets himself sink a little and does a slow lazy flip in the water and she feels him tickle her foot on the way back up.

It’s much the same laying on the toasty flat limestone rocks on the lakeshore. Benny and her, burning their backs on the rock, tender bellies getting scorched by late afternoon sun, underwear drying out as crispy as the grass. He’s got his eyes closed again, lashes fanned out on freckling cheeks. And Lu is watching him once more and thinking how much she’d like to be a couple of lazy lizards with Benny.

She snickers at the thought.

“What’s that?” he hums.

Lu shakes her head, disbelieving that she’s about to embarrass herself like this but at least he still has his eyes closed, “I was thinking that we’re a pair of lizards.” And that she’d like to keep being a lizard with him and have a lizard family.

Benny doesn’t laugh at her, his nose crinkles in a mildly disgusted way but he looks like he’s gotta agree despite it all, she feels so fuzzy by that. “I think my back is gonna stay on the rock when I sit up.”

The clasps of her bra are digging into her spine but, otherwise it’s burning and fabulous and she wants to stay forever. The look on his face, lazily tilted towards hers on the rock with his eyes half masted and open, agrees so eloquently Lu wants to— she doesn’t know. So she settles with reaching out and resting her hand on the browned meat of his pretty shoulder. Benny’s eyes droop further and they chide her ever so gently for the fire it ignites in them both all at once, and Lu would love to be two lizards and stay here forever.

#those who can #Benny x Lu #blurb #Benny Demarco #masters of the air #mota #tallulah smith

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lokis-army-77 · 1 year ago

Text

Live from Hawkins

Older!Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Eddie watched as you are stood up on a date and without a second thought, he brings you home.

Warning: 18+. Eddie is in his late 50s to early 60s, reader is 20s to early 30s. p in v, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, sir kink, pet names, a few spanks, fingering, mention of a partner having died.

A/n: Thank you @munson-blurbs for hyping me up to write this and for thinking of the funny little thing that happens at the end hehe, I love you <3 also my version older!eddie is inspired by @ farmerusedto on tiktok and Instagram.

Masterlist Part 2

The fun of nightlife had escaped Eddie when his biological clock started making him go to bed at 8:30 p.m. instead of 2 a.m., but tonight was an exception. After an extraordinarily shitty day, he thought a drink or two at his old haunt would cheer him up. It didn’t, not entirely. The whisky he had been nursing tasted like shit and the crowd in the bar left little to be desired, except for you.

Eddie had clocked you when you entered the establishment at eight on the dot. His eyes raked over the pretty silky red dress that stuck to the curves of your body as you made your way to a tiny circular table with two chairs and sat down. Your head was held high as you watched the front door.

Ah, a date, He thought. Then he began thinking about all the dates he had been on in the long past years until he had met his wife, and then the lack thereof after her passing twenty-some years ago. He’s never had time to date. Raising kids two kids as a single dad while also being a simi-successful musician turned producer, looking for romance added a whole new thing to worry about so he just didn’t, but now, in his later years of life, with his children grown and moved out, he could afford the chance to indulge. Sadly though, you were apparently taken.

Even after he had finished his one glass of alcohol, he waited. Watching you as your posture slowly became slouched, you sipped on some fancy beverage, and your head stopped peaking up when the bell to the door chimed as it was opened and closed. You were beautiful and didn’t deserve to be stood up.

When the clock struck nine, Eddie stretched his aching joints and stood from the bar. Sauntering his way over to your tiny table.

“This seat taken?” He asked, hand resting on the back of the chair.

You lifted your head from your phone startled and shook your head. “Unfortunately, no. You can take it.” Sighing, you look back down at your phone, expecting him to take the lone chair and pull it up to another table. To your surprise, he actually sat down in front of you. “Um… can I help you?”

“Sorry, I just saw you sitting here by yourself for a while and thought you might like the company. A pretty girl like you in a pretty dress like that shouldn’t be sitting alone in a bar like this, some weirdo could show up.”

You blush, almost as red as your dress. “And how do I know you aren’t the weirdo?”

“Good question. You don’t.” He laughed.

The deep timber of it had your stomach flipping. His facial features were hidden under a nicely kept beard, full of salt and pepper hairs, more salt than anything else. The shaggy, slightly curly hair atop his head looked the same. He was definitely older than you by a couple of decades, but hey he was nice looking and obviously, the guy you were supposed to be seeing wasn’t coming. What harm could come from flirting with this guy?

“But hey, a bit of mystery can be a good thing, don’t you think?” He asks.

You can't help the giggle that passes your lips. “Oh, really?” You look him up and down. His outfit was something reminiscent of the eighties, only more subdued. Tight black jeans, motorcycle boots, and an Iron Maiden shirt that had been ripped at the hem. Before he had sat down you even spotted a black and white skull bandana in his back pocket. “I’ve heard that with age comes wisdom. Are you here to enlighten me then?”

He lets out a more hearty laugh this time, his head falling back. Your eyes scan the contours of his neck and watch as his Adam's apple bobs up and down. “I don’t know about wisdom, but I do have a few decades under my belt. Maybe I was the one hoping to learn a little thing or two from such a charming young lady as yourself.

Your hand lifts to cover your smile and you look away almost bashfully. “Such a smooth talker aren’t you?”

“As smooth as I can be…” He leans forward, hand resting on the table, fingers laced together. You see the many rings decorating them. The flip in your stomach drops and you clench your thighs together. “Why? Is my charm winning you over?”

“So that’s what you’re trying to do, huh?” You smile.

“Well, it was either that or all the vintage dad jokes I know.” He smiles back.

You can feel your mood being lifted from the once sour thing that it was into something more bubbly as you listen to him. “Vintage dad jokes? Sound’s intriguing. Maybe I’ll stick around for now.”

He nods. “That’s a good choice Sweetheart. Who could resist the allure of outdated humor and a bit of gray hair?” His hand tugs at his beard.

“You know, I could be out having an adventure with the guy I was supposed to be meeting here instead of chatting with a silver fox.” There is a permanent grin etched into your face as he gasps in faux offense.

“You wound me, Sugar. Isn’t it usually the unexpected adventures that turn into something unforgettable?” Eddie couldn’t lie to himself, he was laying it on pretty thick, but it was all in hopes that maybe, just maybe you might come home with him.

“Well, I do have to admit you are intriguing, maybe I’ll take you up on this adventure.” It was childish, the way your heel-clad foot slid its way past the single, center leg of the table and halfway up the man’s calf.

When he feels your foot rubbing on him, he has to steel his face. One of his hands slipped from the table and slithered its way down his leg and caught your foot. “What do you say we get out of here?” His hands were so big and his fingers so long that they wrapped with ease around your ankle. The pads of his fingers pressed in gently and you hoped he couldn’t feel how fast your pulse were thumping throughout your body.

Your mouth suddenly turned dry, words evaded you. All you could do was nod in response. He let go of your foot and stood, reaching out his hand. You take it and he pulls you up as well. “My name’s Eddie by the way.”

…

The drive to Eddie’s suburban home was filled with chase touches and lingering hands. His large palm warmed your thigh, his fingers dug into the plushness there. You cozied up to him, lips trailing up his neck to his ear where you nibbled on the lobe.

Eddie groaned as he white-knuckled the steering wheel. His breath caught in his throat when you inched a delicate hand into his lap.

“Now, little girl, don’t be starting something you can’t finish.” He chided. His hand on your thigh moved ever closer to the already high hem of your dress.

“Little girl?” you whisper into his ear. “I’m not a little girl, old man.”

You feel every bump and jerk of his 1960s Ford pickup as he practically jumps the curb and slams the brakes in his driveway, screeching to a halt. Eddie unfastened his seatbelt and turned to you. His hand immediately found purchase on the back of your neck and he pulled you in for a kiss. His lips were soft and plump and his beard tickled. You giggled into the kiss but that was cut short when they turned to gasps as soon as Eddie caressed his tongue into your mouth.

“Eddie…” You moan into him, fingers latched onto his shirt, pulling him into you.

“What is it, Sweetheart?” He pulled away from the kiss.

You looked him in his eyes, the street lamp outside aiding in deepening their already dark hue. “Touch me. Need you to touch me.”

He smirked. “Alright baby, I’ll touch you.”

Then, he backed away, hooking you from himself and slipping out the door. A pout worked its way onto your features as he walked around and opened your door. Tisking he shook his head. “What’s the frown for sugar?”

You took his outstretched hand, he was ever the gentleman. “You stopped kissing me.”

Leaning down he gave you a sloppy peck on the lips. “Well, I can't touch you how you want, Sweetheart, unless we go inside.” He chortled as he guided you to his front door. As soon as the lock was undone and the knob twisted, you pushed the two of you inside. You were hot and worked up and needed something to help the pounding ache that had made itself known between your thighs.

Inside, you try your best to tug Eddie’s shirt up and over his head but he is quick to catch your hands, pushing you back against the wall and holding them above your head.

“Not so fast. You’ve got to ask for the things that you want.”

You shake your head in defiance. You knew where this was going from the way he gripped your wrists. From the way his voice became stricter, more dominant. Need pools in the pit of your stomach. This was what you had been craving, what no other man could make you feel.

“Please.” Your plea comes out just above a whisper.

“Tsk, Sweetheart, I think you can do better than that.” Eddie maneuvers both your wrists into the hold of one hand while he lets the fingers of his other run down the open skin of your neck tantalizingly slowly. Goosebumps begin to prickle on your skin as the fingers wander down your chest and over the tops of your breasts, cleavage on display, heaving as you take sharp breaths of air.

“Please, Eddie.” Voice cracking. “Please, I want you. I want you to touch me, I want to feel you.”

He groans, hips pressing you to the wall harder. “What a good girl you are.” He captures your lips in another heated kiss.

The night had barely begun and you already felt like you were drowning in him. The scent of menthol cigarettes, whisky, and something almost woody filled your nose and all you could think of was the man pinning you to the wall.

A staggered gasp caught in your throat when Eddie dropped your wrists and heaved you up by the waist. Your legs cinched around him and his arms held you close. “Why don’t we take this to my room? I can put some nice mood music on.” He kissed up your neck as he carried you through his home.

“Mood music, hum?” You whimper when he sucks on a sensitive spot. “What, gonna play the Temptations greatest hits? Or how about the Chordettes? Don’t they have that song with your name in it?”

You yelp when his hand smacks your ass. “M’not that old, Sweetheart. It’s more like eighties rock ballads but that’s not what I’m choosing.” The smirk that contoured his lips was wicked.

“Mmm, and how old are you?” You ask, words muffled by your lips meeting his.

“Old enough.” Eddie pushes his door open and it hits the wall with a thud. He walks to his bed in the darkness and practically throws you on top of the sheets. He doesn’t follow, instead, he flips the bedside lamp on and the room fills with a soft yellow light.

His room isn’t what you thought it would be. It's all dark colors, blacks and grays. Three electric guitars hang like decorations on the wall in front of you. A few picture frames are scattered over the dresser to your left, too far to see the images clearly in the dim light. You watch him like a hawk as he walks to that very dresser and turns on a speaker.

He really wasn’t kidding about the mood music. You think.

“Get comfortable Sugar… Just got to figure out this damn phone.” You chuckle as you watch him fiddle with the touchscreen and cheer when the music fills the silence. You laugh even louder when Eddie fumbles the phone in his hands and drops it to the floor. “Shit.” He bends down to pick it up and when he does he props it against the mirror of the dresser.

“Is it okay?” You ask, hand covering the giant smile plastered on your face.

“It’ll live.” He shakes his head. When the giggles die down, he slowly comes toward you, crawling up the bed. The way his hands travel up your bare legs gives you chills. He pries you open gently, your dress hikes up your thighs, and the wetness of your pussy is on full display.

“Well, aren’t you a naughty girl… No panties?” He asks, hot breath on the inside of your thigh as he nips at the skin.

You shake your head as you explain. “No, not wearing a bra either. You can see the outline through the dress”

He grins a devilish grin and slowly teases his way up your thigh. The hot air from his breath caresses your skin white his beard tickles you. He pushes back your dress a little more before looking you in the eyes. “Ready?”

The whine that comes from you is almost unrecognizable, all desperate and needy when his mouth attaches itself to your pretty cunt. Your hand flies to his head, gripping his silky hair between stiff fingers.

“Fuck. E-Eddie.” You rasp. He hums the vibrations add to the cacophony of pleasurable feelings between your legs.

Eddie’s tongue rolls along your folds, wetting every inch of skin. The gentle sucks he performs on your clit pull moan after moan from you. Your back arches and your hips push down into the bed. Eddie’s hands push your thighs farther apart, the plush of them pooling through his spread fingers.

He loves the feel of you. Loves that he can make you writhe under him with just his tongue. His ego is through the roof, having not been this intimate with someone in years.

It's been all but a few minutes, to you its been hours, Eddie is expertly working you up up up and to the edge. One hand smoothes down your leg and under his chin. You feel the subtle touches of his fingers as they linger around your cunt. His other hand pushes your leg back more, creating more room. You heave a cry when two fingers breach you, stretching you out at a leisurely pace.

In and out, in and out, in and out he went, fucking you deeply with those long thick fingers of his, covered in rings. The metal soon became warm as they began to be covered in your slickness and his spit that dribbled down to meet them.

With the way his fingers pushed up into your walls, poking the fire in your belly. The ember that it once was, was not a full-on flame. It was wild and hot and needed something more to feed on.

“Eddie!” You cried, clamping down around him. Body ridged, ready to let go.

“That’s right baby, say my fucking name.” He pulled back only to reattach to your clit and pump his fingers tenfold.

His words were tender to the flame, making it rage out of control. “Eddie!” You cried again, wonton moans following as you feel the fire spreading. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you chant like a prayer.

He’s greedy as he laps up every ounce of your release, you have to push him away gently, too sensitive for him to keep going but the crooked smirk he gives you as he kisses up your body tells you he wants more.

Your breathing is rapid as you come down. Your legs feel like jello and you’re hot, super hot. The fire in your veins had rekindled and the dress, conforming to your body, was becoming uncomfortable in the heat.

Eddie can see the way you tug at the garment and gives it a tug of his own. “I hate to see this little number go but I need to see all of you.” He manhandles you onto your stomach, snatching the tiny red zipper and pulling it down to reveal the soft skin of your back.

His hands rub into your muscles, thumbs catching on knots and smoothing them out. It was intimate, something you had never experienced in a one-night stand. He removed the tiny straps from your shoulders and kneaded until you were sighing contently into his sheets. Lower and lower he went, tugging the fabric with him and eventually taking it off, throwing it into the abyss. Rough fingers squeezed at the fat of your ass.

Unknowingly, Eddie had bent down, and as he was massaging you bit down playfully on your ass cheek. A weak squeal erupts from your throat. “Eddie, what are you doing?”

“I can’t help it if you look good enough to eat.” He bites down again and you buck your hips back. A hand quickly smacks down on your ass. “Quit being a brat. First not asking for what you want and now this? What am I going to do with you?” Condescension drips thickly from his words.

You wiggle your hips in his grasp. “M’sorry.”

Another smack. “I’m sorry what?”

The fire burns brighter with this fuel.

“I’m sorry, Eddie.”

He spanks you a third time. “Try again, baby.”

Your stomach flips. “I’m sorry… Sir.”

He hums in satisfaction. His hands wrap around you and pull you to your knees, ass in the air. With your head buried in the covers, you can only guess what he’s doing by the subtle movements behind you.

Eddie has taken his shirt off and unzipped his pants. His cock achingly hard and straining against his black boxers. “Gonna fuck this pussy good, baby.” You whimper in response. He shickers, “You like that, Sweetheart? You want my cock in that pretty pussy of yours?”

“Please,” You mewl, aching to finally have him inside you. The roughness of his hand steadies you as he inches closer. His hard cock on the other hand. He presses it against your folds, the head slipping through easily. You release a shaky breath when he nudges your clit. “Need you inside, please Sir.”

“Gonna give it to you baby,” Eddie replies, pushing into you. His breathing shudders at the warmth surrounding him. Your cunt squeezes him tightly, sucking him in and not letting him go.

He feels amazing stretching you out. He's bigger than you thought, wider. The tip pushes into your walls as he begins to thrust into you, the most wonderful grunts and growls filling your ears from behind.

"So fucking tight, Sugar." Eddie fucks into you at a hard brushing pace with stamina you didn't know he had. His hands grip your hips so hard you know there will be visible marks there later but you don't mind.

You turn your head slightly and look over your shoulder as best you can. Eddie has a wild look in his eye, streaks of gray hair falling into his face. Your eyes catch on the plethora of ink etching his skin. You had seen the ones covering his arms but you couldn't have imagined this. Your mind wandered to what the rest of his body looked like. We're there more pieces yet to be seen or did alabaster skin win out as you go further down his body? The thought of seeing the rest of him has you bouncing your ass back into him, meeting his every thrust with fervor.

The fire Eddie had lit within you was once again roaring out of control. The way his cock filled you deep has you shaking in delight.

"More, more, more," you called out to him, fists clamping down onto his sheets so hard it was a wonder you hadn't ripped them.

“More? Is that what you want?” He patronizes. His right hand moves from your hip and he bends forward, snatching your hair up at the base of your skull. The dull throb that accompanies his tight hold has you wailing. Your stomach flips and flips, pressure building up. You’re going to cum and you tell him as much.

“Please, keep going Eddie, fuck. Keep going, I’m gonna cum, Sir.” Big blubbery tears have started to streak down your face, once pristine makeup now smeared.

He pulls on your hair. ‘Don’t cum baby. Wanna watch that pretty face as you cum on my cock.”

Eddie pulls out of you and it feels like forever until you are flipped onto your back and he inserts himself back inside. The new angle has your legs clamping shut around him and the head of his cock brushing against a sensitive spot which makes you keen into him.

You make eye contact with him, his gaze is feral. He’s looking at you like you’re a buffet laid out for him. His hips rock into you with such force that your body is slowly jerking up the bed. You reach out for him, hands open and close, needing to have him close to you. That fire is still burning within you and it is scorching.

Eddie leans into your touch, relishing in the feeling of your nails dragging long scratches down his pecks and stomach. He catches one, entwining his fingers with yours and pinning your hand back into the mattress. Another intimate moment that had butterflies erupting alongside your fire.

“Please,” you whimper. “Wanna cum so bad.”

He leans down more, pressing a chased kiss on your lips. “Alright Sweet girl, you can cum.”

When you let go, Eddie can’t help the absolutely hedonistic moan that comes forward. He’s rutting into your constricting cunt like an animal. The look of absolute ecstasy that washes over your face had him fighting off his own release.

“Where do you want it, Baby? Where do you want my cum?”

It’s absolutely crazy, the place that comes to mind, but some deep, dark, nefarious place inside you wants it so badly. Craves is.

Without thinking, brain foggy with a greediness only comparable to the deadly sin itself, you blurt, “Inside.”

Eddie’s hips stutter and his mind goes blank. Inside? Fuck, She wants it inside. He groans, fighting himself. He shouldn’t but he wants to. Oh, how he wants to. Thoughts of what your pussy would look like leaking his cum have him going ridged, his conscience losing out against a primal need he didn’t know he had.

“Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck ah!” He’s a moaning mess when he finally gives in and lets himself cum.

You can feel his release as a warmth spreads out from your tummy and envelopes you. Eddie falls careful not to let all of his weight squish you. His kisses make you giggle as you try and catch your breath.

You’re exhausted, warn out in a way you never have been. “Thank you,” you say, kissing him back. He looked at you with soft, round eyes.

“Why are you thanking me, Sweetheart?”

You sigh, content. “You saved me from a night of wallowing in my self-pity.”

He shakes his head. “Beautiful girl like you deserves to be treated right, that guy’s a bastard.”

“Tha-” You’re cut off by the loud ringing of his phone, still connected to the speaker. Eddie cringes at the volume and turns slightly to eye the phone but does not move to get up. It stops ringing a moment after.

“I think I should get going…” You whisper and give him another kiss.

“Mmm, you could stay the night. I can take you back to your car tomorrow.”

You pout at him. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“Sweetheart, I’m asking you to stay, you aren't imposing on anything.”

You giggle and go to answer but you are interrupted by his phone ringing again. Eddie says quietly, “What the hell?” before pulling himself out of you. He hesitates a moment, watching as his cum leaks past the puffy, used lips of your cunt, then grabs at his phone.

‘HARRINGTON’ Is flashing across the screen.

“What do you want man? I’m in the middle of something.”

Eddie still has his phone connected to the speaker and the next few sentences make Your smile fall and your face bloom into a heat that could rival the sun.

“Oh, I know you are. Half the fucking world does you dipshit!”

“Wow okay Steve, calm down. No need for name-calling.”

“Eddie I swear to god, do you know what you’ve just done?”

“No…?” Eddie scratches his head, looking at you and shrugging his shoulders.

“You just fucking broadcasted you having fucking sex LIVE on fucking Facebook!”

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