#this is worse than the spicy scene
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just in: local killer found giggling, blushing, kicking his feet at the thought of his one-night-stand-turned-crush taking him out
#they're so disgustingly cute already i can't do this you guys#this is worse than the spicy scene#i'm blushing more at bison blushing than at them fucking nasty#and with socks on apparently#the heart killers#thk#kantbison
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Do you tell your friends / family that you write?
Okay here's the thing. My family knows that I am working on writing a book. They've read portions of it, its nearly 150 pages currently with an entire map & working government & a history that spans roughly 200 years back. I'm working on creating a religion for the book. So they know that process.
They do not, however, know that I'm a fanfiction writer OR that I still roleplay. They USED to know that I roleplayed bc I used to roleplay on fb ( and still do but it's different, they knew about the old accounts ).
So. Yes but also, no.
#ooc: [ off shore ]#;; munday#[ no one irl knows that i write ridiculously smutty fanfiction and im trying to keep it that way. ]#[ i cringe thinking about anyone i know irl reading my fucking book which is. arguably. worse than my fanfiction ]#[ bc my book has a few torture scenes & maybe a few spicy scenes. ill die when anyone i know reads that. ]
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Five Days of Joy
Gif from neekshq
Title: Five Days of Joy
Author: Tory / @tkwrites
Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts
Summary: Sarah joins Quinn at his family reunion. There’s laughter and tears and some spicy time as they sneak time alone. Sarah bonds with Jim over the loss of their mothers and explains why her dad loved Costco so much. She and Ellen bond over their partners being gone for stretches of time. A black bikini has Quinn practically drooling. The whole family goes on a beach adventure with Sarah in the lead. More than anything else, Quinn and Sarah fall more and more in love.
Warnings: Smut (18+ Only!) There are 3.5 sex scenes spread throughout this piece: Unprotected sex - p in v (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), Oral & Fingering (m & f receiving), car sex, semi public sex if you squint, Angst and Fluff. Really, we’re going through the whole gamut here.
Word Count: 16,400
Comments: This took an incredibly long time to write. Mostly because it's incredibly long. The longest fic I've written to date. I had so many days to encompass into this piece. There were several times when I thought a day was going to be quite simple, but the story demanded more.
I love the way it turned out and hope you enjoy it!
If you did, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing.
Anonymous asked: i cant wait to see sarah come to the family reunion
Anonymous asked: omg the famiyl reunion and all the little cousins immediately loving sarah and her siting on the floor with them just playing and quinn watching with a love sick look
Anonymous asked: sarah coming to the lake house for the first time and being so exicted to see the water life there and all different living things and quinn is just sitting and walking with her as she looks at everything! did that make sense? idkkk
Anonymous asked: I've thought about Sarah taking some of Quinns cousins on a little adventure on the coast wading through tidepools during the family reunion. I think this would fit what you're thinking of a little more. 💜 AWWWW! yes this is even better!
nicenamebutitsalreadytaken asked: Some fic ideas…. #2: more Ellen and Sarah girl time! I loved their talks while they got pedis! #3: Jim and Sarah bonding over the loss of parents. Jim filling some sort of fatherly void in Sarah’s life. I know she’s too old for a father-daughter dance, but something of that vibe.
I feel like there were more asks that are being answered in this, but in looking through them, I couldn't find more.
Five Days of Joy
A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot
Day 1 (The Arrival):
Quinn reached over to squeeze her knee as they pulled up to the cabin. Okay, so it was more of a house, but for all intents and purposes, to his family, it was a cabin.
“Ready?” he asked.
She pulled a deep breath into her lungs and nodded.
At the crunch of tires on the gravel driveway, his cousins came running from the backyard, all lined up and clamoring for a front row view of Sarah’s arrival.
“I’m sorry about this,” he said, glancing over at them.
“About what?”
“My cousins. They’re all really excited to meet you.”
“That’s sweet,” she said, glancing over at them.
“They can just be a little much.”
She shrugged, “they can’t be any worse than my nieces were to you.”
Ellen watched from the porch as Quinn laughed in the driver's seat of the car. It wasn’t that he was depressed without Sarah here, but he seemed a little looser with her beside him — quicker with a smile and a laugh. She hoped he would be a little more forgiving now that Sarah had finally arrived. Quinn always had a bit of a temper, but it seemed like she soothed some of it down.
They got out of the car and Andrew’s kids jostled to the front of the crowd, bouncing off of and hitting each other in a way that was so reminiscent of her own boys, it made Ellen choke up a little.
Walking around the front of the SUV, as Quinn pulled her bag from the back, Sarah waved. Even after a day of travel across the country by plane and then a two hour drive, her smile was still genuine.
The smallest of the cousins, Nova, ran to Sarah right away. She didn’t miss a beat, squatting down to gather the five year old into her arms.
“What’s your name?”
“Nova! What’s yours?”
“My name is Sarah. I like your dress.”
“Thanks,” she said, swinging her hips as she pulled on the skirt of her striped dress printed with balooga whales.
She ran back to her sisters, telling them in a whisper that could be heard from the next township, “she’s really pretty.”
Laughing, Ellen stepped off the porch and gathered Sarah into a hug “I’m so glad you could come.”
“Thank you for inviting me. It’s so beautiful here,” she said as Quinn walked up and took her hand. “I’ve never been to New Hampshire.”
Introductions were made, at least 50 of them. The hardest thing for Sarah to keep track of was how everyone was related. Both Jim and Ellen’s siblings were there, as well as some friends that seemed like they were basically family. All of them were staying in houses rented nearby. On the drive, Quinn told her this was the first year they were bringing both families together. It just so happened that both were planning reunions over the 4th, so when Quinn’s parents suggested they all come together, everyone had agreed.
“I hope it’s not too overwhelming,” one of his aunts said.
“My mom is one of nine, so it can’t be any more confusing than my family,” Sarah assured.
“Well,” Ellen said, picking up one of her bags, “lets get you settled in.”
Once everyone got over the novelty of her, Sarah excused herself to shower, saying she needed to “wash off the plane smell.”
“You ready?” Ellen asked, finding Quinn in the front room, reading.
“For what?” he asked at the same time she wondered, “where’s Sarah?”
“The store,” she reminded. “We’re all going to make sure everyone gets what they want?”
“Oh, shit I’m sorry, mom,” Quinn said, “I completely forgot. Sarah’s in the shower.”
Glancing at her watch, Ellen wondered if they could wait.
“Just go. We’ll go later if we need to. I don’t want to leave her here alone.”
His mom gave him a knowing glance and asked, “is there anything she really likes?”
“Peppered turkey if you’re getting lunch meat,” he said, “and hot Cheetos if you’re getting chips.”
Noting them on the shopping list, Ellen asked, “Cereal?”
“She really likes raisin bran.”
“Seriously?”
He shrugged, “she has it all the time.”
“Okay. Don’t have too much fun while we’re gone.”
Rolling his eyes, Quinn mumbled that they wouldn’t and watched them pile into the cars and drive away.
By the time he’d waited to make sure no one was turning back, Sarah appeared in the doorway. “Where is everyone?”
“The store. Mom wanted us all to go together, but I forgot.” If he weren’t so excited to be alone in the house with Sarah, he would call his mom to come pick them up. They couldn’t be far down the road.
“Oh.” Guilt twisted at her stomach.
“It’s fine,” he assured, “we can go tomorrow if we need to.”
“That’s not really the same thing,” she said as she walked to the couch.
“It’s okay,” he assured. “My mom still loves you.”
She flopped onto the couch next to him and took his hand. She missed these simple things - the ease of touching him and the comfort of having him near.
“I missed you,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder.
“I missed you too,” he agreed, turning to press a kiss into her hair.
It was so nice to just be close to her. This summer had to be this way, but it didn’t make missing her any easier.
The longer they stayed pressed close to each other, the warmer she got. Not only from his furnace-like body heat, but also his smell and the feel of his solid, muscular chest under her shoulder. An insistent want to really feel him was growling deep in her.
“What are you doing?” Quinn asked as Sarah climbed into his lap.
Knees bracketing his hips, she settled on his thighs. “I thought that was obvious,” she said, tossing her hair over one shoulder and leaning in to kiss him.
“Should we go upstairs?”
“Want it now,” she whispered against his mouth.
“What if they come home?” he mumbled before their kiss could ignite. A trip to the grocery store wasn’t a short thing with their family, but with all of them together, he imagined they’d try to get out as soon as possible.
“Just wanna make out for a while,” she said, lips feather light over his mouth. “We can have sex tonight.”
Quinn groaned, sinking fully into the kiss in a way he hadn’t yet allowed. It was difficult for him to convince himself to come up for air when they kissed like this, and letting that loose while his whole extended family was in the house wasn’t the best idea.
“We have to keep this PG,” she said, moving his hands from where they were pushing her shirt up.
“Why?” he whined.
“Because your family is coming home. And who knows when they'll be back. I, for one, don't want to face your grandpa with my chest out because you couldn't wait."
“Which is why we should go upstairs,” he argued.
“Just kiss me, Quinn.”
He obeyed, and as he pulled her hips flush to his own, decided he could wait until that night.
“Jack, can you go in first and make sure Q isn’t doing something indecent?”
Jack wrinkled his nose, “ew! Mom, no!”
“Go,” she hissed, “they haven’t seen each other in three weeks. I don’t want one of the kids to walk in on them accidentally if they got carried away.”
“If they’re having sex in the front room, they deserve to be caught.”
“Jack, just go,” she said, leveling him with an exasperated stare.
“Fine,” he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Upon entering the house, he found Sarah on top of his brother on the front room couch. They were, thankfully, fully clothed, but Quinn had a handful of her hair and a handful of her ass as they kissed. Sarah took a deep kissing breath. He could see her tongue, see the blissed set of Quinns features. He found himself smiling, glad that Quinn had finally found a girl to put up with him.
It was probably messed up, but this was the first time he’d found Sarah at all attractive. He felt pretty indifferent about her generally, but appreciated that she made Quinn happy and was willing to try with their crazy, extended family. Now, seeing Quinn hold her brought up torturous memories of Madeline - of feeling her curves and the solid weight on top of him.
One of his cousins came running up the front walk, and the sound of her sandals slapping against the concrete brought Jack back to the task at hand.
“Family’s home!” he yelled before Ellie got inside.
Shocked, they sprang apart as if caught naked or robbing a bank. Sarah backed away so quickly that her calves hit the coffee table, and she plopped down on it to save herself from falling over. She wiped her mouth, and Quinn pulled a pillow onto his lap. They were looking everywhere but at each other.
“Sarah,” Ellie asked, running into the room, “Sarah, did you put on lipstick?”
Her hand went to her mouth, eyes wide as she finally looked at Quinn, who blushed.
Jack laughed some more. “Nah,” he said, ruffling her hair, “that’s just what happens when the whole family has to go to the store to give you time to get it on.”
Sarah rolled her eyes and finally stood, adjusting her shirt. “We were not getting it on.”
“Looked like it to me,” Jack said with a shrug.
"Then you are watching the wrong kind of videos, my friend.”
Quinn barked out a laugh, and Jack felt his cheeks flame at being razzed by her. He didn't know she had it in her.
After a long dinner filled with grilled steak and chicken and an enormous amount of laughter, Quinn felt even more sure of Sarah. He melted a little each time she caught on to his family's humor, and it seemed everyone loved her. At one point, his grandpa had even elbowed him in the ribs with a conspiratorial quirk of his eyebrows when they were at the food table together.
Later on, he found himself playing games with Sarah and some of his cousins' kids. The kids had begged her to join them, and she went happily. Unwilling to leave her side now that she was here, he joined in, too.
“Can you show me all the fish?” Nova asked.
“Of course,” Sarah said, “The next time you come to Vancouver, I’ll give you a tour. I can probably even get you backstage to meet Walter.”
“You’ve never offered to take me backstage,” Quinn said, his tone teasingly hurt.
“I didn’t know you were interested,” she teased, “Nova obviously wants to see the fish.”
“Yeah, Q,” Nova said, sticking her tongue out at him, “I care about the fish.”
Quinn laughed but wondered why Sarah felt like he wasn’t interested in what she did. Was he giving off the wrong impression?
“Do you think Walter will like me?” Nova asked.
“I don’t know. He can be pretty picky about people. When you meet him, he’ll touch your hand with his tentacles,” she slowly wrapped her fingers around Nova’s arm to demonstrate. “Octopus use their suckers to suss out who’s good and bad.”
Mia looked fascinated but horrified, “what?”
“Yeah, they use them to taste and feel, and they can usually tell if they don’t like someone just by touching their skin.”
“Did Walter like you right away?” Quinn asked. He’d never thought of it before. He had to like Sarah. She worked with him so much, they had to get along.
“He was a little shy, but I kept coming back to do research, and eventually, he started to warm up to me.”
“Can we see fish here?” Mia asked.
Sarah glanced at Quinn, “we’re going to the beach, right?”
He nodded, “on Friday, I think.”
“I don’t know that we’d be able to see much in terms of snorkeling. It's mostly boring stuff out here - lobsters and fish for eating. It’s too cold for most of the fun stuff.” Mia looked instantly crestfallen, and Sarah continued, “but there’s always interesting stuff in tide pools. I’ll see if I can find us some to explore.”
Mia beamed for the first time since they’d arrived. Since she’d turned 12, she’d been a bit moody and sulky in that teen way, wanting to hang out with her friends rather than spend the week with her family. Sarah taking her interests seriously obviously meant a lot to her.
“Quinn, there's no lock on this door,” Sarah said that evening as she closed it behind her before crawling into bed.
“So?”
“So anyone — your mom, your grandpa, one of your cousins — could just walk in.”
“They won't without knocking.”
As if on cue, the door flew open. “Is Mason in here?” It was one of Quinn's aunts. Or a friend who was basically an aunt? It was hard to keep track of who was actually related.
“Nope,” Sarah said.
“Oh, I’m sorry you two,” she said. “I hope I didn't interrupt anything.”
Quinn gave her a tight smile, and she got the hint, closing the door softly behind her.
Sarah arched an eyebrow in Quinn's direction as if to say, see? What did I tell you?
“What does it matter if there’s no lock,” he asked, rolling on top of her, “we have to be quiet anyway.”
“We can’t have sex in here, Quinn,” she said.
“Why not?”
“As much as I want you to fuck me into tomorrow —”
Burying his face in her neck, he groaned loudly as if the very prospect was painful to him.
“We can’t. Not when someone might walk in. What if one of the kids came in? We’d scar them for life.”
He lifted his head and pouted, giving her his best begging eyes. “This is why I wanted to go upstairs before,” he said, trying to keep the whine out of his voice.
“How was I supposed to know a bunch of kids would be sleeping in the family room across the hall?” she hissed, “or that there’s no lock on your door.”
He knew she was right, but god, he couldn’t believe they were finally together and they couldn’t even have sex.
“I think we could…” her voice trailed off at the same time her hand slipped between them to cup him over his pajama pants.
“Don’t tease,” he said, jaw clenched.
“I’m not teasing,” she said coyly.
“Touching my dick when you won’t have sex feels like you’re being a pretty big fuckin’ tease to me.”
“Just because we can’t have sex doesn’t mean I can’t get you off.” Her voice was a seductive whisper in his ear.
He let out a kind of groaned whimper, tucking his face into her neck again. Fuck this room and it’s stupid fucking door without a stupid fucking lock.
Her other hand guided his mouth back to hers. He was immediately swept up. He wanted to kiss every inch of her.
Shivers coursed through her as Quinn’s lips trailed up to her ear.
“I can’t stop thinking about the way you taste,” he whispered, banking on the idea that she might loosen up a little if he got his mouth on her. Emphasizing his point, he lowered his lips to her neck, kissing and licking.
As heat engulfed her, his name came out in a desperate whine. “That’s not fair.”
When they were apart, it was fairly easy to pretend her own fingers were his, or her vibrator was his cock — they weren’t really the same, but her imagination could make up the difference — but nothing could simulate the feel of his mouth on her. She’d told him this just the week before when they were having phone sex while her roommates were both gone for the evening.
“Who said anything about playing fair?” Quinn asked, quirking his eyebrows.
Her eyes darted to the door, listening as footsteps grew louder, then faded in the other direction. When she looked back at him, he was sliding down her body, his hands slipping up her thighs under her sleep shirt.
“Quinn,” she admonished.
“I can stay under the covers,” he said, winking as he lifted the blanket over his head.
God, she wanted it so bad.
“What if Nova came in?” she asked, trying to reason.
“Nova’s staying in a different house,” he reminded. They’d left at 10, her dad, Quinn’s cousin Andrew, carrying the little girl who’d fallen asleep right at the card table.
Sarah made a frustrated noise and lifted the covers to look at him, “Quinn you know what I mean. Stop playing dirty.”
A wicked grin took over his face, “this,” he traced a finger over her underwear that she knew were already damp, “would suggest you like when I play dirty.”
She threw an arm over her eyes, “if someone walks in, you get to be the one giving an explanation, then.”
“I think my mouth is going to be otherwise occupied.”
A keening, needy noise left her lips.
When he hooked his fingers in the waistband of her underwear, he paused, waiting for permission. As much as he wanted to do this, he wasn’t going to force her into anything. If she wanted to wait, he would. Begrudgingly, but he would.
Sarah took a deep breath, her mind whirring and warring. Eventually, the side of her that wanted to make a good impression on his family won out. “I really, really want to, Q,” she said, “but —”
The resigned tone of her voice told him exactly how this was going to end. Sighing, he rested his forehead on her stomach.
“I just… your whole family is in the house. It feels too…”
If he thought with his brain and not his dick, he understood what she was getting at. It would be extremely awkward if anyone walked in on them. He wouldn’t put Sarah through that.
“Yeah,” he said, flopping into the bed next to her.
“But like I said, just because we can’t have sex doesn’t mean I can’t get you off,” she said, running a hand slowly up his thigh.
Quinn wasn’t entirely sure how getting a handjob from her was all that different than just having sex. The bed would probably squeak less, he supposed, but it would still be awkward if someone walked in. They’d go for a drive the next night, he decided, if they didn’t get the chance to be alone before then.
Her other hand slipped into his hair, nudging his mouth to hers.
Even though it wasn’t exactly what he wanted, feeling her fall apart around his fingers while she stroked him and panted into his mouth was still heavenly.
Day 2 (The Black Bikini):
The next morning, Quinn was talking with Luke when Sarah came out of the house, holding a jug of orange juice as she talked and laughed with his aunt.
“I think it’s a…” he trailed off, the thought he’d been explaining evaporating completely the moment he saw her bikini.
It made her look unbelievable - curvy and supple. The black cut beautiful shapes against her skin, and a shiny silver U linked the two halves together between her breasts. The high waistband of the bottoms peeking over the top of her undone denim shorts finished driving him out of his fucking mind. She even had her hair in a braided ponytail, just like he liked. God, he wanted to put his mouth all over her.
Luke turned to follow his gaze and said, "Whoa."
"Yeah," he breathed before realizing and smacking his brother upside the head. "That's my girlfriend, dick." It felt so good at that moment to call her his.
Luke held up his hands in surrender, "I'm not even interested in her, man. But if Ky wore a suit like that…" he trailed off, knowing better than to voice whatever he was thinking.
She walked up the steps to the sundeck then, and he felt breathless with wanting. The metal U winked at him with every step she took. Somehow, she looked even better up close.
Luke got up, mumbling something about needing to find someone. Sarah didn't catch who.
She stopped next to Quinn's sun lounger and looked down, shielding her eyes from the bright morning sun. “Do I not get a good morning kiss?”
He'd left to run around the lake with Jack, Luke, and Brendan before she'd gotten up that morning. She so rarely got to sleep in, he didn't wake her, despite the possibility of getting a few minutes alone before he had to leave.
He shook his head, “can't stand.”
“What? Why? Did you hurt yourself?”
He shook his head and glanced down, hoping she'd catch on.
She followed his gaze, her mouth falling into an O as her cheeks went pink, which made it so much worse. God, why did she have to be so cute, too?
She sat on the edge of his lounger, and he reached for her, gathering her against him, her back to his front. He wanted to hold her and also needed to cover exactly how excited this swimsuit made him.
She’d expected to lean back and feel his semi against her. Instead, he was hard and hot, fully turned on in a way he didn’t often get just from looking at her. Glancing over her shoulder, one of her eyebrows quirked.
“You come out here in this bikini when I haven't had you properly in nineteen days and expect me to just be normal about it?”
“Nineteen days?” she repeated. She knew it had been over two weeks, but she wasn't keeping a tally.
“I'm serious, Sarah,” he said, voice pained. “Do you have any idea how hot you look? How much you're driving me crazy?”
“I think I might,” she said, tracing a finger over his thigh, following the hem of his running briefs, exposed where his exercise shorts rucked up.
He was acutely aware of her touch, of everyone around them, of her body heat seeping through his shirt and of just how much of her skin was exposed. His muscles twitched.
“You're a tease, you know that?”
“I'm a tease? You're the one out here all sweaty in these little shorts,” she countered as the tip of her finger traced under the elastic, “Your thighs out for everyone to see.”
That knocked him a little breathless. He knew she found him attractive. She often told him how handsome he was, but this kind of lusty wanting felt new. He sputtered.
“We could always go inside and lock ourselves in the bathroom,” she offered, her voice light and conversational, as her not-so-innocent touch trailed to his inner thigh.
He made a noise in his throat as his body went to war with his brain. “You wouldn’t have sex in bed last night, but you’re fine with the bathroom today?” he asked, more confused than incredulous.
“The bathroom has a lock. I guess it might be a little weird if someone saw us come out, though.”
Quinn was struck with a vision of one of his cousins knocking on the door and how embarrassing it would be to have to walk out together, caught red-handed. Surely, his family knew how much he missed her, but there was only so far that understanding could go.
“Yeah.” Taking a deep breath, he mentally prepared himself for another day of wanting. If they couldn’t steal some time alone that day, he’d take a car and make a place for them to be alone.
“I should go shower before breakfast,” he said, pressing a few quick kisses to her neck before darting into the house, hoping no one was paying too much attention.
All day, Quinn felt possessive of her in a way he usually didn’t.
More than once, he’d pulled her into his lap as she walked by. It wasn’t that he thought his cousins were going to do anything. He knew they wouldn’t, and he knew Sarah would never, but he had this basic, neanderthal-ish need to let everyone know that she’d chosen him.
Every time he thought he was cool and didn’t need to remind everyone of their relationship, he’d catch someone checking her out, and it would rear up again, demanding to get his hands on her. She lets me touch her like this, the caveman inside him roared each time he did it. She likes me enough to let me do this.
Each time it happened, and Sarah suddenly ended up in Quinn’s lap, she laughed, chocking it up to finally being together after being apart for so long. To be fair, she didn’t want to go very long without touching him, either.
“Let the girl breathe, Quinn,” his dad teased when it happened for the sixth time, “Jesus.”
“I think it’s sweet,” his sister admonished. “Don’t you remember being that in love? I remember when Ellen had you that smitten.”
“I do remember that, but I wasn’t ever as clingy as this guy, was I?” he asked, pointing at Quinn, who was busying himself threading his fingers through Sarah’s belt loops.
“Oh, you were. You don’t remember mom telling you she’d never marry you if you didn’t give her some space to think?”
Jim laughed, his face splitting into a broad grin, even as heat flooded into his cheeks. “I’d forgotten about that. That was some good advice. Ellen told me later she was thinking about breaking up with me because I was getting too clingy.”
He glanced at Sarah, only for her to give him a weak smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Times like this, it always hurt to remember her mom wasn’t around to give sage advice and tease her about her new beau. She often wondered, even after her siblings and uncle had met him, how her parents would react to Quinn and to their relationship. The fact that she would never really know strangled her insides.
Reaching over, Jim squeezed her hand, a sad, knowing look on his face. He knew what a smile like that meant. “It was pretty terrible when mom couldn’t be there for Luke’s birth,” he said. “I know it’s not the same, but we’ve been there too.”
She gave him that same, sad smile, “thanks.”
Jim’s sister glanced between them, then seemed to remember. “Oh, sweetie,” she stood up and came to Sarah, giving her a hug.
Even though it was awkward with her sitting down and Quinn still holding her waist, the intended comfort still came through. “Thank you,” she said, wiping a few rogue tears from her eyes.
Quinn wound his arms around her waist to pull her flush against him so he could be the one she could lean on. He hooked his chin over her shoulder and brushed a kiss to her jaw.
“I know when our mom died, I just wanted someone to give me a hug all the time. My husband started calling me a koala,” she said, laughing lightly. “Anyway,” she waved a hand in front of her face, “I just mean to say that if you need a hug, I’m always here.”
It was incredibly kind. Though Sarah knew she would go to Quinn or Ellen or even Jim first, just because she knew them more, it was still wonderfully thoughtful.
“I can’t imagine your parent’s wouldn’t be anything but thrilled to see how in love you two are,” she said.
In a way, it was kind of a throw-away thing to say. She’d never met Sarah’s parents, but, Sarah supposed, she was a parent herself and knew something of raising children.
“I know we sure are,” Jim said, squeezing her knee.
“Thanks. I just really miss her, you know?” More emotion than she’d been expecting choked her voice. She leaned into Quinn, glad for his solid embrace.
Jim nodded, “of course.”
“But more than that, I miss the potential. Like, I don't get to know what she or my dad thinks of Quinn or how they feel about my degree.”
“Well, I think I can say that they’d be incredibly proud of you for your degree,” Jim said, “I'm proud of you, and you're not even my daughter.”
Quinn hoped that one day she might be something close.
“And you know, Quinn won't get to know them,” Sarah continued, the thoughts bubbling up now that the cap had been blown off. “He won’t get to hear my mom laugh or go on a wild trip to Costco with us.”
“Costco?” Quinn repeated.
“My dad loved Costco,” she said, her voice taking on a dreamy, nostalgic tone. “It was a whole family affair. Every second Saturday. You better keep the evening free, cause we all had to go together. Even after my brother got married, he and Lucy still came with us.”
“Why Costco?”
“Part of it’s because both of my parents grew up in such big families. My dad’s one of 6 and mom’s one of 9. But I think he just liked that you can get such a huge variety of stuff there. He always liked to find the new things, and he felt very passionately about Costco hot dogs.”
Quinn snorted.
“Almost every gift he ever gave came from Costco.”
“Like what?” Quinn asked, trying to keep her talking. He loved seeing these snapshots of her family. If he wouldn’t get the chance to meet them, at least he could understand a little more through her memories.
“One time,” she adjusted to sit sideways in his lap so she could see his face, “he bought me an enormous bag of hot Cheetos for my birthday.”
He snorted.
“Don’t make fun. It was a very practical gift. He even printed this big label and stuck it on it that said,” she had to pause to control her giggles, “Sar-Bear’s mouth-killer birthday chips. Touch or die.”
A laugh sputtered out of his mouth.
“He got me my first golf clubs at Costco. And,” she emphasized the point by poking him in the shoulder, “he once built a rocket made entirely of stuff he bought at Costco.”
“A rocket?” Jim repeated, surprised.
“Yeah, he designed rockets for a living and wanted to do it to prove that he could. He uploaded this ridiculous video to Facebook and tagged Costco in it. They gave him a free membership for a year. He said it was the fifth best day of his life.”
“Fifth?” Jim’s sister asked.
“After his wedding and the birth of his kids.”
“Can we see the video?” Quinn asked.
She had family photos on a pinboard above her desk, and he’d seen a ton more when they visited her siblings. He knew she had her dads smile and her mothers eyes. But it was different seeing someone in motion.
Digging her phone out of her pocket, Sarah said, “I’m not sure his profile is still active… I think he might have tagged me in it.”
Glancing at his dad, Quinn found the older man looking at him with this proud, approving look on his face. It was a rare thing to get from Jim, and he was most often on the receiving end of it at the ice rink. It was nice to get it away from hockey.
“Here,” she said, handing Quinn her phone. The screen was cracked in the corner.
His dad and aunt moved to huddle around his chair, and he played the video.
Her dad, Michael, who was tall and reedy and wore wire rimmed glasses, introduced himself and went through an overenthusiastic explanation of where every part of the rocket came from in the store, and why he chose it, making sure to highlight what was on a special deal that month. He then assembled it with a younger Sarah’s help. Her hair was shorter, cut into a bob that hit around the middle of her neck, and she had braces.
Quinn paused the video, “how old are you here?”
She took the phone back from him so she could look at the date. “I’d just turned twenty-one.”
“You still had braces at 21?”
“I had them twice,” she explained with a self-deprecating eye roll. “I didn’t wear my retainer the first time, so I had to get them again when I went to college.”
“I think you look cute,” he said.
“Yeah, because nothing says, ‘hey, I’m old enough to drink’ like having braces.”
They all laughed, and his dad reached forward to start the video again.
The rocket was finished and shot off. It flew much higher than Quinn expected. “Woah.”
“And that,” her dad said, hands on his hips as he turned back to the camera, “is how you launch into a new month of Costco savings.”
“Oh my god,” Sarah exclaimed off camera. “You’re such a dad!”
“Good thing I am one, then,” he said, pointing at her with finger guns and a wink.
Ellen came over at their laughter, “what’s going on here?”
“We were just watching a video of Sarah’s dad.”
“Oh,” she tucked herself between her husband and sister-in-law, “I’d like to see that.”
The fact that they all were interested in getting to know her parents in this way eased a bit of the grief from its strangling hold around Sarah’s heart. As Quinn restarted the video, his free hand moved to her leg and squeezed her knee.
She glanced down at him, a thankful smile on her face.
After an afternoon on the docks and another raucous dinner on the lawn, Quinn grabbed a set of keys from one of the hooks in the kitchen.
“We're going for a drive,” he announced, pulling Sarah toward the front door with their clasped hands.
His parents and aunts and uncles shared some knowing glances from their place around the dining table, and a smile he knew wasn't going to end well took over his mom's face.
“Have fun!” she called out. “Use protection!”
“Lay down a towel!” someone else chimed in.
“Sarah, don't be afraid to put him in his place!”
He felt his ears get hot. It didn't matter how casual he tried to be, they knew exactly what they were up to.
Sarah pulled him off his determined course to go into the garage.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting a towel. That's a smart idea. I don't want to ruin whoever’s car this is.”
He laughed, “it's my parents' car.”
“All the more reason then,” she said, tucking a few towels from the clean bin under her arm and taking his hand.
The drive took thirty minutes, and they ended up at a lovers lane of sorts - nothing more than a dirt road at the edge of a tree lined pond. They were the only ones there. Sarah tried not to think about how he knew about it.
“I know this is really fucking cheesy, but can we get in the back seat?” he asked.
She nodded, glad they didn't go through the whole rigmarole of squirreling over the center console. Car sex was uncomfortable enough. No point in making it more so.
They both went to their perspective back doors, and she didn’t waist any time, crawling into his lap and kissing him.
“Sarah,” Quinn moaned when she moved on to his neck. He was so torqued up, his desire ratcheted so high he didn't think he'd ever had bluer balls in his life. He hadn't touched her in two and a half weeks, then they had finally shared a bed, but he'd only been able to get her off with his hands and vice versa because of the bedroom lock situation. Then she'd walked out that morning in that goddamn fucking bikini and he about lost his goddamn fucking mind. THEN it took ten hours before they were able to get away on their own.
He'd been riding the edge so long that she didn't even need to get him worked up. He felt crazy with wanting.
“Sarah, please,” his hands, clumsy, pulled at her shirt. She let him strip it off. He reached for her shorts, and she pushed him away. He whined in earnest, in too deep to be embarrassed.
“I want to blow you first,” she said, voice husky.
His eyes practically rolled to the back of his head. “Fuck, Sarah. Really?”
“Really.” She gave him a coy smile and maneuvered so she was on her knees in front of him.
“You can get me off while you recover,” she said.
“Yeah.”
He would have agreed with practically anything at that moment. She needed a new car? Done. Tuition? She wanted to skinny dip in this pond? She wanted to marry him? Done, done, and done. He'd do it all.
She made quick work of his pants, shoving them down until he could kick them off onto the floor.
And then her blissful mouth was on him. She felt so good - warm and wet, and the way her tongue moved made his breathing hitch. Part of him felt 12, ready to shoot off at any moment; the other part of him wanted to savor this.
Her hand slid up his thigh. He was so certain she was about to wrap her fingers around the base of his shaft that when she bypassed and cradled his balls instead, his hips bucked of their own volition.
He hit the back of her throat, and she pulled off coughing through the gagging sensation.
Shit.
Fuck.
No, no, no, no, no.
“I'm sorry,” he said. His voice was practically begging. “I'm sorry.”
Seeing the tears she was blinking out of her eyes as she sat up slammed him back into reality.
He cupped her cheek, “I'm sorry, Sarah. I didn't expect that, and I just…I lost control. Are you okay?”
She blinked a few more times to get rid of the tears and swallowed. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, he leaned against the car door. Having sex in a backseat was really never a good idea. They were too confined to get into any of their favorite positions.
Having sex in the backseat when he was this needy was a terrible idea — compounding all the issues with his impatience. That said, if it was the only way they would be together, he’d have sex in this goddamn car every night.
His eyes shot open at the feel of her lips wrapping around him again. He wouldn’t lie. The way she was sucking him off, on her knees, ass in the air, was one of the most attractive things he’d ever seen her do.
“Can I take a picture?”
She pulled back, looking up at him, “what?”
“Can I take a picture?” he repeated, fishing for his jeans and pulling the phone out of his pocket. “You look so fucking hot like this. I just want to remember.”
“As long as it’s not shared anywhere, yeah,” she said, leaning down to take him again.
Part of him hadn’t really expected her to say yes. His mouth had run away with his thoughts before he could vet them. Fumbling, he finally got his phone to unlock and adjusted the camera settings for the dark.
The app only clicked once before she pulled off. He whined.
“Hold on,” she said, undoing the button on her shorts and shoving them around her knees. “This'll make a better picture.” If she was going to allow it, might as well go all out.
As she took him in her mouth again, she perked her ass in the air, showing off.
“Holy shit,” he breathed. It took him a second to remember his phone in his hand and take another picture. In the dim light, it just barely captured the shadow of the lace.
“You're so fucking incredible,” he moaned.
Feeling her smile around him was something he’d never get over.
Using every technique she knew he liked, Sarah continued on until he was panting and moaning above her.
Gripping the seats, Quinn willed his hips to stay still. “I‘m gonna come,” he warned.
Hollowing her cheeks, she sucked a little harder, gratified when he let out the stuttered moan she’d been aiming for. She wanted to milk him dry.
When he came with a shout, she did just that.
Spent, Quinn collapsed against the door, breathing heavily.
There was no rustling or opening doors, so she could spit. As his eyes fluttered open, he asked, “did you swallow?”
“There wasn’t anywhere else to put it.”
“Damn,” he said, disappointment in his voice.
“What?”
“I didn’t see it.”
“It looks the same as when I swallow anything else,” she assured.
“It does not,” he argued. “You never swallow.”
She gave him a look that had him backtracking, “I mean, not that I mind that you don’t, but I just…would have liked to see it, thats all….” he trailed off.
“I’m sorry,” she said, coming forward to settle in his lap again. “Next time, I’ll wait until you open your eyes to swallow.”
“Next time?” he asked, quirking his eyebrows.
“Yes, next time. You know, as well as I do, that that won’t be the last blowjob I give you.”
“For all I know, it could be,” he said, though his voice was teasing.
“As long as you reciprocate, it won’t.”
“I better start reciprocating, then,” he said with a wink, sneaking his hands into the band of her underwear to push it down. He had been dreaming about her taste for weeks, and cleaning her release from his fingers the night before only made the craving worse.
“I don’t know if in the car…” she wanted his mouth almost as much as she wanted his cock buried deep inside her but she worried it wouldn’t work in the car, at least not the way she liked. She preferred to be laid out on her back so she could totally relax and he could have full access.
Pouting, Quinn stuck his bottom lip out and met her eyes in an attempt to get her on his side. “I don’t want to use my hands again.” It came out a bit of a whine.
“I love your hands,” she said, covering his with her own, pulling them up her body and to the clasp of her bra. He made quick work of the hooks and pulled it off, tossing it to the floor with his jeans.
“Plus, once you’re hard again,” she reached down and cupped his sensitive dick, “I want this inside me.”
“Yeah?”
“Fuck yes. I’ve been thinking about you filling me up for weeks.”
Moaning, he twitched against her palm. Not bothering to remove them, his hand slipped to the apex of her thighs, rubbing over her underwear.
Head thrown back, she moaned as her hips ground into his hand.
It didn’t take long for her juices to soak through the flimsy lace. The fact that he was doing this to her made his whole body feel like it was on fire.
“Quinn,” she breathed, “I want your fingers inside me.”
“Later,” he said, too intoxicated with the idea of her coming with this lace barrier between them. “I want to feel you come like this.”
A whine escaped her, but she continued dutifully rocking against him.
He stroked her pearl, then moved down, teasing her entrance with the tips of his fingers.
She huffed out a frustrated breath. “If you’re not going to put them inside me, stop teasing.”
“But teasing you is so much fun,” he said, pushing in, just slightly.
Both hands gripped his shoulders, and she moved her hips down, trying to force his digits inside her. The lace prevented him from dipping to the depth she wanted him, and she whined his name.
“Naughty,” he admonished, slipping his fingers back to her sensitive bundle, stroking it so slowly that it was more torture than treat.
Her beautiful mouth was open and panting. “Quinn, please.”
He usually envisioned that word coming from his lips, not the other way around.
Her hips ground down hard against his hand. He pushed back with equal force, and she winced, shrinking from his touch.
“Sorry,” he said, lightening his pressure. He’d been so caught in the moment, he forgot how sensitive she was, “sorry.”
Too intent on her orgasm, Sarah shook her head. Her hand shot to his wrist of it’s own accord, guiding him back to her. Finding his fingers again, she started grinding herself against them. The sensation of the lace between her clit and his touch was incredible. The fabric was so soaked now that the texture of it was no longer painful. It only added another layer of stimulation.
Quinn let her control the pace, content to watch bliss take over her body. Her head tipped back, and he leaned forward to lick one of her nipples into his mouth, hoping to give her that final push.
She moaned his name as one of her hands came up to cradle the back of his head. He felt the other grasp onto his shoulder.
He knew she was almost there from the pace of her breathing, the racing of her heart and the way her hips stuttered. He was still glad when she clarified anyway. “I’m so close.”
Switching to using his middle two fingers, he used the index to work under the lace. At the first sign of her orgasm, he swept the fabric aside and plunged his middle and ring fingers inside her.
Sarah screamed.
Feeling his fingers finally penetrate her as her orgasm began to pulse catapulted her pleasure into another dimension.
The grip she had on his shoulder tightened, and she chanted, “Quinn…Quinn…Oh my god, Quinn…Fuck!” The last word came out a shout as he brought his thumb to her clit, drawing tight circles around the sensitive bundle still swathed in lace. Her high, which had been easing off, exploded to life again.
He’d never heard her be so loud before. At least they were several miles from the nearest town and nowhere near his family.
Easing off when a soft whine escaped her throat, Quinn brought his hand to his mouth, eager to taste her release.
Watching him clean his fingers through hooded eyes, she said, “I want you inside me.”
“There’s a condom in my jeans,” he said, reaching for the material.
Pulling his hand back, she placed it over her breast. “Don’t care. Need to feel you.”
“You’re sure?” He knew having unprotected sex without a bathroom close would mean she would be dealing with the aftermath the whole way home on top of having soaked underwear.
Nodding, she hurriedly pulled her underwear out of the way. Taking it off would take too much time — time she wasn’t willing to give up, not when she was so close to finally feeling him again.
The way she moaned when she sunk onto him was going to haunt his dreams for months.
Relishing the feeling of having his hard cock inside her again, Sarah paused. Head tipped back, she panted.
She moaned as he adjusted, sending him further inside her.
“You feel unbelievable,” he said full of breathless wonder.
“Uh hu,” she agreed, starting to move, easing up and down.
Feeling her this way reminded him of that day in April she’d showed up at his house to congratulate him on making the playoffs. Remembering the way they’d made love that day, he spread his hands wide, ready to support her.
Instead of leaning back, she came forward to kiss him. “Want you on top,” she said against his mouth.
“Okay.”
As much as it pained her to, she pushed off of him so they could rearrange. He guided her onto her back, pulling the towel back in place as he did. She shimmied out of her panties.
Once his hips settled against hers as he slipped back inside her, she wrapped her legs tightly around him. It forced him into a more sensual rocking rather than fucking her hard and fast.
Tucking his face into her neck, kissing and licking all the skin he could find, Quinn marveled at how good it felt, even squashed into the back seat of a car, she still felt amazing.
Her hands slid up his back and buried themselves in his hair. Sarah tipped her hips so Quinn was brushing her clit each time he moved.
She gasped his name.
He grunted, too taken with her to form a more coherent response.
“You feel so good.”
The praise shot a mixture of pleasure and panic up his spine and into his mouth, “can’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Can’t say things like that.”
“Like what? That you make me feel good?”
He whined, nodding his head.
“Why not?”
“Gonna make me come.”
Sliding her hands to his ears, she pulled his face from her neck, so he was looking down at her. “Guess you better shut me up, then.”
Eyes widening in surprise, Quinn felt his breath shutter in his lungs. It didn’t take long for him to take the bait, crashing their lips together in a kiss that mimicked the way their bodies moved in and around each other.
His continuous, sensual rocking made Sarah’s whole body quake. Pleasure sparked in her core and rippled outward. God, everything about him felt incredible. His tongue, the hot length of his cock, the way his hips rocked into hers. She moaned into his mouth and he moaned back as if in agreement.
“Quinn,” she panted. “Oh,” her moan cut off as he thrust a little harder.
Unable to hold it any longer, she tipped her head back, crying out as her orgasm exploded into her veins.
Fastening his mouth on any skin he could find, he focused on the taste of her sweat and chased her racing pulse, working her through her high. As it edged off, Quinn slowed his thrusts to match the pulse of her core around him.
Collapsing against the seat, Sarah breathed, “holy shit,” as a sense of heady euphoria crashed over her.
Beaming down at her, he settled his hips against hers. Torsos pressing together with every breath, Quinn shook his head, “you’re fucking amazing, you know that? First the blow job,” his cock twitched inside her just remembering it. “Now this?”
She flushed.
“What?” he asked, laughing.
“I needed to get you off, so you'd last for this. Don't get me wrong, I love giving you pleasure, but I'll admit, the blow job was mostly for me.”
“Minx,” he teased, but there was no heat in it. He understood her reasoning, and it was smart, really. Plus it’s not like he’d minded.
She laughed, and he bit his lip as her core flexed.
Her legs loosened around him, and she reached up to brush his hair from his face.
“What do you want?”
He gulped. “Wanna come inside.”
“Of course,” she said as if that wasn’t even a question. “How do you want it?”
His brain ran away with his mouth, “wanna fuck you.”
She nodded.
It was the only permission he needed. Bracing himself above her, he immediately set a pace that made both them and the car shake.
“Want to feel it,” she said, pushing her hips up to meet his every thrust.
Had anyone else but Sarah heard the pathetic little whine that came out of his mouth, he would have been mortified.
“Come for me, Quinn.”
Each thrust ended with her name on his tongue. When his orgasm finally shattered, he flooded her with a shout. Burring himself to the hilt again and again, he kept going until his limbs gave out, and he collapsed on top of her.
Day 3 (The 4th of July):
The morning of the 4th was spent puttering around the bay in a two-person kayak before stopping on a far shore to eat the picnic she’d packed for brunch.
Then they had to get back to the house so Sarah could make her dads favorite chocolate tart. Jim had suggested and requested she make it, so she and Quinn had stopped at the store on their way back from their lovers’ lane rendezvous the night before. She’d never been so thankful she’d remembered a hairbrush.
In the middle of the afternoon, as the crust was baking, they found themselves in the house alone.
Glancing out the window, Sarah saw the family gathered at the bay shore behind the neighboring house and locked what looked like an intense volleyball tournament.
“Looks like the house is empty,” she said casually.
Quinn perked up.
She picked up the timer, “we’ve got a bit of time before I need to pull this out of the oven if you want to —” She broke off, laughing as Quinn sprinted around the island, took her by the waist and pulled her against him.
“Yes,” he said breathlessly, “I want to.”
She laughed again and pulled him down the hall to his room. Once there, she pulled the blinds closed before turning back to him. He was shutting the door, looking at her like he was ready to pounce.
Glancing at the timer, she said, “we’ve got thirty minutes,” before stripping her tank top off, revealing her blue bikini top.
He was going to spend every one of them with his face between her legs. God, he missed the way she tasted, the noises she made when he went down on her. There was nothing like it.
“Thirty minutes,” he repeated, “just enough time to get you off a few times.”
He tackled her into the bed, immediately wrestling with her shorts and the bikini bottoms she had on underneath them.
“And you,” she said, reaching for his swim trunks, “I want to feel you, too.” Before she could get a good grip to pull his board shorts down, he was kissing along her stomach, intention clear.
“Quinn,” she breathed, “you don’t have to —”
“Want to,” he mumbled into her skin as he spread her thighs to lay between them.
A whimper escaped her chest.
“God, I’ve missed this,” he moaned when he finally got his eyes on her. She was already glistening for him.
“Really?” she knew he didn’t mind giving head, but to miss it? She missed getting him off, sure, but she’d be lying if she said she missed giving him a blowjob more than anything else.
“Fuck yes.”
She let out a small moaned whine as her hips tipped toward his mouth.
He didn't need any more invitation than that. Stuffing his face into her center, he moaned, feeling his eyes roll back. She smelled and tasted like heaven.
When he got over the initial jolt of pleasure at finally having his mouth on her again, he looked up to find she'd pulled her bikini top to the side and was toying with her nipple. The other hand was over her mouth, muffling the noises he loved so much.
“Want to hear you.”
Was that his voice? He sounded drunk. In a way, he supposed he was.
“I don’t want to…” she broke off, panting. “Don’t want to draw attention,” she managed. “What if someone comes in the house?”
Not bothering to respond, he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked.
Her hips tipped into him, and she moaned.
“That’s it,” he groaned into her, “just like that.”
“Oh my god,” she breathed as the hand that was over her mouth fumbled into his hair. The other stayed at her chest, pushing her bikini off of her other breast so she could tweak and twirl that nipple, too.
Fuck, she was so sexy.
Two orgasms later, Quinn showed no signs of stopping, despite rutting his hips into the mattress every time her body and breath shook with pleasure.
“I want you.”
He didn’t make any moves to break away from her center. He was practically drinking her release, but his thirst wasn’t yet quenched.
“Quinn, I want you inside me.”
When he didn’t follow her request, she wrapped her fingers into his hair and tugged.
He grunted and let out a pathetic little whine, but let her pull him up to her.
Kneeling, he shoved his shorts down before hooking her right leg over his arm.
“Quinn,” she moaned when he hovered over her. It stretched her farther than she could on her own, but it wasn’t unpleasant.
“You want it?” he asked, nestling just the tip against her entrance.
“Yes,” she moaned, head thrown back.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, Quinn. I need your cock inside me.”
There was only so far a man's resistance could take him, and Quinn had just run out of rope. Leaning down, he caught her mouth to capture her moans as his hips drove forward, sheathing himself in one hard thrust.
Their shouts crashed together, their lips muffling the sound.
After only a few harsh thrusts, she was pulling away, head tipped back against the pillows as she panted.
Guiding her hand between their bodies, he instructed, “touch yourself for me.”
He’d usually build her up slowly, but there was no time for that kind of slow seduction.
“Fuck,” she whispered, body on fire.
He felt her walls spasm around him and knew she'd made contact with her swollen bundle of nerves.
“Feels good?” he asked, voice strained to a whisper in her ear.
“So good,” she babbled, “you feel so, so good.”
He growled something deep in his throat.
“Yes,” she panted, not knowing or caring what she was agreeing to.
He chuckled.
“I’m almost there,” she said. Pressing a fraction harder, she skated that delicate line of getting off faster without causing pain.
“Come for me, Sarah,” he commanded.
She gasped. He never talked like this at home. Something about the possibility of getting caught brought it out of him, she was sure.
Mouth next to her ear, he growled, “come all over my cock.”
She had no choice but to obey. His filthy mouth, combined with a few more punishing thrusts, had her careening into orgasmic bliss.
He swallowed her moans and trusted her to catch his cry of pleasure when he came hard inside her.
After riding out their highs, he flopped beside her, and her leg fell off the side of the bed.
“Holy shit,” she whispered.
He huffed in response.
After a few moments of panting breaths, she asked, “could you go get a washcloth?”
“I don't think I can move,” he confessed.
She giggled, “that good, hu?”
“Fuck,” he moaned. “It was unreal.”
“It was, or I was?” she asked, quirking her brows teasingly.
“You always are,” he said earnestly as he rolled over to throw a heavy arm over her stomach as his mouth connected with her shoulder.
The timer beeped once.
“That's the one minute warning,” she said quietly, tucking her breasts back into her top. “I need a towel or something to wipe off so I can get dressed to pull the crust out.”
Fuck this room with its stupid fucking walk in closet that should have been a en suite bathroom.
Quinn convinced himself up with a groan and found a clean t shirt she could use, “I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly, handing it to her.
The timer went off just as she was finishing wiping up. She threw on her bathing suit and rushed into the kitchen.
The back door opened as she was pulling the crust out of the oven. She kept her eyes down, knowing she must look ridiculous pulling a pie out of the oven in her bikini. She hadn't even looked in a mirror yet. Her hair was likely wild, and she was probably flushed and looked over kissed. She may as well have been wearing a sign that said freshly fucked.
“God fucking dammit,” she recognized Jack's voice, “have Quinn text me when we can come back in the house,” he said, voice too loud and dripping with annoyance, before the door snapped shut.
She giggled and, upon coming back to the room, found Quinn freshly showered.
“How did you do that so fast?”
“Do what?”
“Shower. I was gone for like three minutes.”
He shrugged and whipped the towel from around his waist to drag over his hair.
She didn't try to hide her stare, admiring his hip lines, which were more defined than they'd been at the start of the summer.
“My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”
Heat flooded her cheeks, but she pulled her eyes to his. “Jack wants you to text him when it's safe to come inside.”
He laughed. “Does that mean we can go another few rounds before I tell him anything?” he asked, slinging an arm around her and bringing her close against him.
“I’ve got to shower and finish the tart,” she said, patting his chest lightly. “Plus, I think we’ve pushed our luck enough for one day.”
Begrudgingly, he agreed and dressed as she went to take a shower.
When Sarah wandered back to the kitchen, hair wet, but pulled back in a french braid, she found Quinn at the sink, watching his brothers play volleyball paired up with some of their cousins.
“You should go join,” Sarah encouraged.
“But you’re not —”
“I can finish this on my own. It’s not a big deal. Go have fun.”
“You're sure?”
“Yeah. I actually wouldn't mind having some time to myself for a minute.”
“You’ll let me know if you want me to come back in?” he confirmed.
She nodded, and he pressed a lingering kiss to her mouth before heading outside.
After Quinn went out to join in the tournament, absorbed onto the same team as his brothers, people cycled through the kitchen as they came in to use the bathroom or grab something to drink. Each one of them offered to help, and Sarah always responded with a bright smile and an, “I'm alright. Thank you, though.”
It wasn't until Ellen came in that the answer changed.
She was the first one who broached the barrier of the island, coming around to lay a hand on Sarah's upper back. “Are you okay in here, sweetheart?”
It was such a motherly thing to do that it made emotion swell in her chest.
“Yeah,” Sarah said with a sigh, “I'm fine. Just a little overwhelmed.”
“Ah,” she nodded knowingly, “it's a lot to take in.”
“Yeah. I'm kind of glad to have some time to myself.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No, you can stay if you want.”
“How can I help?”
Sarah set her to washing the raspberries while she watched the caramel over the stove.
“Things are going okay, though?”
“Yeah. It's a little less huge every day. I feel like I’m finally remembering people’s names.”
“And they're okay with Quinn? I know he's really missed you when you're apart.”
“Yeah, I've missed him a lot, too,” she said. “It's been kind of a rough go.”
“Well, it seems like a good sign to me that you miss each other so much.”
“Yeah. It's kind of weird. I feel like I miss him a lot physically, but I didn't realize how much I missed the little interactions until they were gone.”
“What do you mean?”
It felt a little strange to be talking about this with Quinn’s mom, but she was asking. “Like, I miss running into each other as we’re going through his apartment. Like, if I’m studying, he gives me a kiss as he passes by. That kind of thing.”
Ellen felt a knowing, happy smile spread over her face. Jimmy often did things like that to her, and knowing that Quinn had picked up on one of his dads sweetest habits made her heart swell with pride.
“He told us he invited you to move in when he gets back.”
Smiling down at the caramel, which was starting to turn golden, Sarah nodded.
“Are you going to?”
“I think so. I mean, I will unless something changes.”
“Quinn’ll be so relieved. I’m pretty relieved, too.”
Sarah glanced up at her.
“He’s been all alone in Vancouver for so long,” Ellen explained, shaking the water off the berries, “I know he’s got hockey and his teammates, but I realize now how different it’s been for Jack and Luke to have each other. I’m just glad he has someone he can rely on.”
Intense pride and acceptance filled Sarah’s chest. She knew Ellen liked her, but for her to be relieved she was in Quinns life was something totally different. It dispelled some of her lingering anxiety.
“It’s really, really nice for me to have someone to rely on, too.” Before she could stop them, words continued bubbling out of her mouth, “I’m a little worried about living there while he’s on the road, though.”
“Yeah?”
“I just…I’ve never lived on my own, and — I don’t know if Quinn’s told you about what happened after my mom died?”
“He mentioned you went through some hard things,” Ellen said, trying to be tactful. Quinn had told her about Sarah moving in with her sister and then her uncle because she was worried about her mental health.
“I know it’ll only be for short stints, but I’ve never done that before.”
The older woman nodded in understanding. “I think I went through something similar when Jimmy started traveling with his coaching. I had the boys at home, and we were really busy, and at times, I just wanted to rip my hair out.”
“How did you get through it?”
“I had friends, and I took time for myself when Jim got home. It’ll be a transition for sure, but I think you’ll settle into it just fine. And you know I’m always just a phone call away.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course,” she said, wrapping her arm around Sarah, who leaned her head on Ellen’s shoulder. “Sometimes, it’s nice to have some time away from each other, too. It cuts out the mundane.”
A laugh chuffed out of Sarah’s mouth, and she pulled the caramel off the stove to pour into the pie crust.
“How’s your research going this summer?” Ellen asked.
“Since I’m not in school, and the aquarium is so much busier in the summer, I do more work than research, so I’ve been doing a lot of education tours. I had to re-up my scuba certification this year, so I did that last week.”
“Why?”
“Sometimes we have to dive into the tanks,” she said. “It’s pretty rare, but they like all of the zoologists to have it.”
Ellen nodded.
“But my research is going well. It’s right on track. I’ve started writing my thesis, and as long as I can get it done, I should be able to graduate at the end of the year.”
“Oh, that’s so exciting.”
“It’s kind of daunting,” Sarah admitted. “I’ve been in school for so long, I don’t really know what I’ll do with myself when I’m done.”
“I remember feeling that way when I was in grad school. It’s just new. You’ll figure it out as it comes,” Ellen assured. “Do you have to defend your thesis?”
“Yeah.”
“I hope you’ll let us know when you do. We’d love to be there to support you.”
Sarah beamed. “I’d like that.”
They finished the tart together right before Jims sisters came in to take over the kitchen. As Quinn’s families house was bigger and more recently renovated, almost all of the cooking took place there. It also didn’t hurt that it had the largest lawn for outdoor dinners to be set up.
Sarah joined in the last game of volleyball, a battle of the sexes. The girls won, but that was mostly due to the fact that three of Quinn’s cousins played college volleyball and coached everyone else in what to do. It didn’t stop Sarah from gloating to Quinn when they embraced after the game was done. He took it all in stride, teasing her about her missed sets.
After a cookout dinner of burgers, dogs, and all the fixings, dessert was set out, and Sarah’s tart, despite being sliced into tiny servings, was gone before everyone was done eating dinner.
Once the sun set, they moved down to the beach to watch the fireworks, which were shot off across the bay.
Sarah and Quinn shared a blanket. He invited her to sit between his legs so she could lean on his chest, but she opted to sit beside him. She’d always wanted to kiss under fireworks, and sitting side by side made that more of a possibility.
Halfway through the show, she glanced over at him to find him watching her.
Their mouths tipped together, and it was even more romantic than Sarah had imagined. Finally, the world outside matched how she felt kissing him.
“He’s never done that before, you know,” Luke said, catching up with her as they meandered back to the house to light sparklers with the little ones before they had to get to bed.
“What?”
“Quinn. He’s never made out with someone in public like that.”
“Really?” It’s not like they made a habit of kissing in front of people, but they’d kissed in front of both of their families after he won the Norris, and their first kiss hadn’t been very private at all.
“Yeah. He’s usually more reserved.”
“It’s probably just because we’re with family.”
Luke shook his head, “No. He’s brought other girls to the 4th before, and he never kissed any of them like that.”
Sarah felt her eyebrows raise.
“It’s just nice to see him so comfortable with someone,” he said, knocking his shoulder into hers.
A smile beamed over her face. “You an Kylee looked pretty cozy, too.” They’d started kissing even before the fireworks started, and from what Sarah saw, they never broke apart. Though they must have if he’d noticed her and Quinn.
His face flushed as he gave her a chagrined smile. “Our first kiss was on the 4th of July. It’s kind of an anniversary,” he said, watching Kylee dance around with some of his cousins.
“Yeah? Ellen made it seem like you guys didn’t start dating until you started your senior year.”
“We didn’t. I was trying, and we kind of got somewhere over the 4th, but she didn’t think I was serious.”
“Why not?”
Kylee came up to them then, hooking her arm around Luke’s waist. “Luke’s so shy at first, I couldn’t really tell if he was into me. And Jack talked to me all the time,” she explained. “He always brought Luke up, but never, like, facilitated a conversation between us.”
“Why didn’t he just let you figure it out?” Sarah asked, tearing her eyes away from where Quinn had Nova perched on his shoulders so she could waive her sparkler higher than everyone else.
Luke rolled his eyes, “I think he was trying to wing-man, but it backfired constantly. We only kissed on the 4th because Jack was gone.”
Kylee giggled, “I felt like I had it figured out, and then in comes Jack chatting me up again.”
Upon hearing his name, Jack looked over, “what about me?”
“We’re just talking about what an awful wingman you are,” Luke called back.
“The worst!” someone else chimed in.
Jack’s cheeks, which were already pink from having one too many beers, flushed darker.
“Now that I know him better, I know he really was trying to talk Luke up, but I was just so confused,” Kylee explained with a laugh. “He’s so chatty, it comes off as flirting sometimes.”
“It wasn’t until he moved to New Jersey that she started taking me seriously,” Luke said, casting a fond glance at his girlfriend.
“I was trying,” Jack called out across the lawn.
“I know!” Kylee yelled back.
Sarah wondered how her relationship with Quinn would have been different if Jack had behaved this way. She supposed they were already in love by the time she met Jack. Instead of the overly friendly, flirty Jack, she got the sullen, don’t take my brother Jack. At least he seemed to be getting over that particular fear. He didn’t treat her like a sibling like he did Kylee, but at least he wasn’t as standoffish as he had been and was beginning to joke with her.
After the kids were finally in bed, some of the adults sat around the living room, planning the beach trip for the following day. Sarah was on the floor, leaning against the couch between Quinn’s splayed legs. His hands were resting comfortably on her shoulders. In an attempt to stop herself from kissing the inside of his leg, she leaned her head on his knee.
“Mia mentioned wanting to go through the tide pools,” she said. “I looked it up, and it looks like the best beach for tide pools is Great Island Common. I don’t know how close we’re going to be to there, but it could be fun to go.”
“Its not too far from the beach we're going to.”
“Awesome. Low tide is at 5 pm, so it would be best to do tide pooling between 2 and 5 when the tide is receding.”
Everyone glanced at each other quietly.
“What?”
“You looked all that up?”
“Yeah. Mia said she wanted to go,” Sarah repeated.
“I just,” Jenny began, “I’m surprised you looked up the best times to go tide pooling for a twelve year old.”
“It was just a few quick google searches. I’d bet the other kids would like it, too. All my nieces and nephews really love it. We might as well go at the best time if we can swing it.”
When they fell into bed that night, Quinn pulled Sarah on top of him, just to feel her weight pressing him down. “I love you,” he said, mouth sleepily brushing her jaw.
“I love you, too.”
They fell asleep mouth to mouth.
Day 4 (The Beach):
“Look over here!”
Quinn watched the kids run to gather around Sarah, a smile on his face. They’d all been tired, sun drenched and ready to go home when they got to Great Island Common, but Sarah’s love for the ocean and her knack for finding interesting creatures soon had them all invested in the hunt through the rocky tide pools.
“Mia found a small octopus in this pool,” she said, pointing to a craggy divot in the rock. “Can you see it?”
Sam reached forward, and Sarah gently caught his hand, “we can’t touch, remember? We’re in his house. He’s not in ours.”
Sam nodded, a shy blush spreading over his cheeks.
Even the adults were gathered around now, along with some people they didn’t know.
“I don’t see it,” his uncle said.
“Octopus camouflage really well, so they’re hard to see, but if you look really closely,” she traced the outline of it with her finger above the water, “you can see where it looks just a little different from the rock, and then you can find the legs and suction cups.”
After a moment, Quinn could see the creature, legs curlicued underneath itself, rows and rows of tiny suction cups just lighter than the body.
“And you can see the urchin there,” she pointed to the purple creature on the other side of the pool. “Those are poisonous if the spines go through your skin, so make sure you don’t step on any of them, okay?”
The little kids nodded seriously.
“Sarah! There’s a crab!”
“Where?” she asked as if she’d never seen one before.
Sam proudly pointed to the crab crawling along the bottom of an adjacent pool.
“Good job, Sam. What else can you see?”
They fanned out and reported their findings.
“What’s this?” Jason asked.
Sarah walked over and laughed. “That,” she reached into the pool and plucked something out, “is a plastic bag.”
“Oh,” he said with a laugh, “I thought it might be a jellyfish.”
“No. Jellyfish don’t like the shallow water, so they usually don’t end up in tide pools unless they get caught, and they look more like a pile of Jello if they do. Most things in tide pools like to be there because each new tide brings fresh water and fresh food. It’s sort of an all you can eat buffet without having to go very far.”
“Sarah!” Nova screeched.
She immediately turned around, nearly toppling over in her haste.
Quinn caught her arm and held her steady.
“Thanks,” she said with a grateful smile before searching for Nova. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” she asked when she spotted the small girl, squatting over a pool.
“There’s a star in here!”
Sharing a conspiratorial smile with Quinn, she made her way over.
“You’re right. That is a sea star,” she said. “Oh, and look, it’s lost an arm.”
“Oh no,” Nova said, hands coming up to her pudgy cheeks.
“Its okay. That happens to sea stars sometimes, but guess what?”
“What?”
“They grow right back. If we come back in two months, she’d have a brand new arm.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Watching her go from pool to pool to talk to the kids about what they’d found, he understood why the aquarium liked her to do the octopus talks. She was patient and excited and willing to talk about even the most boring of topics.
He already knew she was smart and patient and kind, but seeing all of those things directed at people he loved made his heart feel fit to burst.
Her sister leaned over, and Ellen leaned in to hear her conspiratorial whisper, “I’ve never seen Quinn look so lovestruck before.”
“I know,” Ellen agreed, smiling.
“It’s a good look on him. She’s a great girl.”
As they walked back to the cars, ready to get dinner and head home for the day, Jack caught up with Sarah. “Can we do that in Hawaii?” he asked quietly so no one would overhear.
She smiled over at him, “sure. Or we could go snorkeling. There are a lot of really good snorkeling coves around the island. We could find some really interesting fish. Probably even some sharks or turtles.”
His face lit up in a beaming smile, “yeah, that would be cool.”
Day 5 (Goodbye is the hardest word):
Quinn let himself sleep in the next morning. Savoring the last few hours he had with Sarah.
They cuddled in bed, falling in and out of slumber until someone knocked on the door.
“Yeah?” Quinns voice rasped, and he cleared his throat.
“Is it safe?” Luke asked.
“What do you want?”
Figuring he wouldn’t have responded if they were engaged in other activities, Kylee stuck her head in, breathing a sigh of relief to find them cuddled together but fully clothed.
“Sorry,” she said. “Ellen wanted me to remind you breakfast’s almost over, so if you want food, you need to come out now.”
When they stumbled onto the lawn, still in their pajamas, someone wolf whistled. Quinn flipped them off.
After eating, they ended up back in bed, content to hold each other for a little while longer.
“I’m gonna miss you so bad,” Quinn whispered.
Sarah agreed.
“Twenty-nine days,” he breathed.
“What?”
“That’s when I can see you again.”
Sarah opened her mouth to dispute but remembered Jack’s plan and snapped it shut. “Maybe it won’t be so bad,” she said instead.
“No?” he asked. “Because it sounds pretty fucking awful to me.” There was a harshness in his tone she didn’t recognize.
Easing away from him, she propped herself up so she could look into his face, “why are you mad?”
“I’m not mad.”
“Bullshit. I can hear it in your voice. Why are you mad?”
Feeling caught and cornered, Quinn blew a breath through his nose. “I just…we’re not going to see each other for 29 days - probably longer than that, and you’re telling me it’s not going to be so bad? Do you not even miss me?”
Shocked, she sat up, moving further away from him. “What the fuck, Quinn? Of course I miss you.”
“But not as much,” he crossed his arms over his chest as he sat up, too.
“I miss you an enormous amount. I miss you every day we’re not together.”
“But it’s going to be fine when we’re apart?”
Sarah felt her defenses go up. “That’s not what I said.”
“But it’s what you meant.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Quinn,” her voice went hard.
He glared at her, and it shocked into her stomach.
Fighting against the urge to put more space between them, she said, “I don’t understand where this is coming from.”
“I’m saying that I’m going to miss you,” his voice tipped into a borderline mocking tone as if he was trying to explain something to an unruly child, “and you’re telling me to buck up because it won’t be that bad.”
Damn Jack and his surprise. It would make everything so much easier if she didn’t have to keep this a secret.
“I didn’t say that,” she said. Anger at being mocked and told what she was thinking simmered inside her, making her heartbeat race.
He dropped his gaze to his hands.
Pressing her palms into the mattress, she tried to ground herself as she thought. Ever since they’d talked about the summer and he’d asked why she always ran away, she’d been working with her therapist on sitting in these tense, uncomfortable emotions. Taking a deep breath, she tried to sort through her thoughts. What did she actually want to say?
“Quinn, I love you.”
He didn’t look at her, but she saw his mouth twitch.
“This summer fucking sucks. I wish all of it was like this,” she ventured to put a hand on his knee. When he didn’t shrink away from her touch, she continued, “I miss you all the time when we’re not together.”
He sighed, focusing on the warmth from her palm on his leg.
“All I meant was that we made it through this 17 day stint —”
“19,” he corrected.
“19,” she repeated. “I know 29 days isn’t the same as 19 by a long shot,” also they would see each other in 22 days, but he didn’t know that yet, “but we made it this time. I’m not saying it won’t be hard, but we’ll figure it out, just like we’ve figured out everything else.”
He lifted his head, and to her surprise, the sunlight streaming through the window was shimmering off of tears pooled in his eyes.
“Oh, Quinn,” she said, scooting closer to him so she could gather him into an embrace.
He tucked his face into her neck and took some deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. Her fingers slid into his hair, rubbing soothing circles on his scalp.
“I’m sorry,” he said into her skin. “I was just thinking about how much it’s going to suck driving back from the airport without you.”
She hummed in agreement. She’d been thinking about the long flight home without him, too. The anticipation of seeing him wouldn’t be there to soothe the ache down this time.
“I know we made it, but now that I know how hard it is to be without you for nineteen days, it just feels like,” he lifted his head to look into her face, “it feels like now I know exactly how hard it’s going to be to wait twenty-nine.”
The pain in his eyes ripped her heart in half. If Jack hadn’t made her promise to keep it a secret, she’d tell him right now.
Instead, she slipped her hands to cradle his jaw and said, “it’ll be hard, but we’ll get through it together. We’ll talk every day.”
“Maybe I’ll come out for a weekend,” he suggested.
“Sure.”
Leaning forward, he tipped his mouth to hers.
They stayed there for a long time, kissing in that slow, loving way, as if they had all the time in the world.
When his hands snuck under her top, she let him strip it off.
It was only when his mouth went to her neck that she remembered, “Quinn, the blinds.”
He made a dismissive sound.
“What if someone sees?”
Even as he thought, then let them see, he knew Sarah wouldn’t be comfortable with it. She didn’t say anything about the door, hopefully because she’d also noticed no one had opened it without knocking since that first night.
Convincing himself to pull away only with the promise that he'd be back in bed momentarily, he got up to close the blinds. The window looked out into the forest behind the house. He supposed someone could stumble upon it - it was on the ground floor - but he hadn’t ever noticed anyone walking by. Still, if it made Sarah more comfortable, he would do it.
He closed the shutter doors and slid the blinds up, making sure the magnets caught so they wouldn’t fall open.
Sunlight crept in through the cracks so that when he turned back to the bed, he found her bathed in a dim, bluish light.
As Sarah reached for him, she murmured, “lets make the most of the time we have.”
He didn’t waste any covering her body with his own, welcoming the electricity that sparked between their bare chests.
They kissed and touched, exploring with a kind of rushed reverence. They had some time, but there was only so long before someone would come looking for them.
Quinn gently rocked his hips into hers, and she responded in kind.
“I love you,” she whispered, tangling her fingers in his hair as he licked and kissed the sensitive spot that drove her mad. When she’d arrived, his facial hair was just over the cusp of stubble. Now, it was a pleasant scratch against her tender skin.
“I love you,” he responded, so quietly she felt his lips under her ear more than she heard the words.
“Quinn,” she breathed.
“I love the way you say my name.” His voice was dim.
It wasn’t so much that they were trying to be quiet, as it was that this moment was just for them, and neither felt the need to speak any louder than necessary.
“How do you want me?” she asked before he could. He asked all the time, and he deserved to get what he wanted just as much as she did. Plus, the least she could do while keeping this secret from him was give him what he wanted.
He moaned something into her skin. She’d asked him this before, but it still made him lightheaded. “How do you want me?” Not just how do you want sex, but how did he want her — her body and mind and soul.
“Want you on top,” he whispered. He wanted the vision of her riding him to be the last thing he remembered from her visit.
She let out a pleasured hum, helping him roll them over.
They made quick work of shedding the rest of their clothing, and she slowly sunk onto him.
A quiet whine escaped his throat as he said, “you’re so perfect.”
She leaned forward slightly so her clit brushed against his pelvis with every roll of her hips. Her eyes fluttered closed. “You’re so perfect for me, Quinn.”
A beam of light caught his eye, and he glanced over. The closet door was open at just the right angle, so the full-length mirror mounted on it reflected her, showing him a side of her he'd never seen before.
He was mesmerized. Watching Sarah — the sway of her back rising from the white sheet pooled around her hips — he didn't think he'd ever seen anything so lovely.
“God, you’re so beautiful.”
She ground against him a bit harder, and he moaned, eyes snapping back to her face just as hers flittered back open.
The memory of their first - well second - time having sex crashed over Sarah as they held eye contact.
Moving her hips back to sink him deeper inside her before rocking forward again, she moaned his name. She was sure their emotional connection was a big reason behind it, but no one had ever felt as good as Quinn. The love and acceptance she'd always found in his eyes gave her permission to go after what she wanted.
In this blue-gray light, she was rendered a painting — a vision — a dream he wanted to relive every night when he closed his eyes.
His hands made a slow exploratory study of her body. Over her luscious thighs to squeeze the flesh of her hips before gliding up the curve of her waist to her lovely breasts.
The sound she made as she arched into his touch etched itself into his brain.
Bracing her hands on his chest, she rocked with a little more intent, chasing the spark, now glowing brighter inside her. It tightened her belly and hitched her breathing.
“Quinn,” she whispered.
His hand slipped up to push some of her hair out of her face. “Let go.”
“I —” The fire caught, and her whole body tightened as it licked through her veins.
She constricted around him, and her name rushed out of him as she stole his breath, “Sarah.”
Her hips rocked and weaved through her high, siphoning his release from him with soft insistence.
Tenderly lowering herself, Sarah tucked her face into his neck as their skin pressed together with every jagged breath.
His arms slid around her, keeping her close as his heartbeat slowed.
“I love you so much.”
She pushed herself up, keeping him seated inside her. “I love you, Quinn,” she whispered, running her fingers through his hair. “I miss you so much when we're not together.”
“I know.” Tears sheened into his vision again, “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head, sending a few pieces of hair slipping out of her bun. “You don’t need to…”
“I just hate being without you.”
Slowly, she lowered herself to lay over him again, taking care to not move too fast. She didn’t want to let go of the feeling of him inside her just yet. “I hate being without you, too,” she murmured against his lips.
They stayed in their little cocoon as long as they could, but Quinn was right. Eventually, someone did come looking for them. The knock on the door startled his mouth away from hers. She licked and pursed her lips.
“Quinn?” it was his dad.
Breath hitching, she scrambled off of him, taking the sheet to cover herself along the way.
“Yeah?”
The door handle didn’t move, and Sarah practically collapsed beside him.
“Just letting you know lunch is ready, and you’re going to have to leave soon to get Sarah to her flight on time. The airport security looks really busy.”
The fact that Jim was checking up on the security lines at the airport was so tender to Sarah. It was such a fatherly, responsible thing to do.
“Okay,” Quinn responded, “we’ll be out in a minute.”
He waited for his dads footsteps to recede before throwing on a pair of boxers and racing to the bathroom to get a washcloth for her. When he got back to the room, he found her, still wrapped in the sheet, adding the last of her things to her suitcase. That ache reopened in his chest. They would get through it, but he would miss her every second.
“I was thinking,” Sarah began as Quinn handed her the washcloth.
“Hm?” he asked, watching her clean up.
“Why don’t you have Jack or someone ride along to the airport? Then at least you won’t be alone for the drive back.”
“And what if I wanted to have a quicky on the road?” he asked playfully.
She couldn’t stop the snort. “You don’t have to, I just thought it might help with some of that loneliness.”
Her care for him stopped taking him by surprise a long time ago, but he was still bowled over by it sometimes. “You wouldn’t mind?” he asked.
“Mind what?”
“Two hours in the car with Jack?”
“I think I can manage,” she said with a smile, “especially if it means you won’t be so lonely going home.”
Though she was halfway through dressing, he didn’t hesitate to wrap her in an embrace.
The tender moment shattered when Quinn slid his hands into her underwear to grope her butt. She laughed, but jerked away from him. “If we start that again, I’ll definitely miss my flight.”
Hands on her hips, he pulled her back, “maybe that’s the idea,” he said, quirking his eyebrows.
Laughing, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, deep and slow, until guilt gnawed at the back of her mind. She pulled back, looking into his eyes. “You know I don’t want to leave, right?”
He nodded, one of his hands still cradling her rump.
“I wish it didn’t have to be like this.”
He was spoiled having her this way for four whole days, and now that he’d experienced it, he didn’t want to let it go. He wasn’t rushing to practice, and she wasn’t running to school. They weren’t racing to activities or commitments. They got to just be together.
When she finished packing, Quinn reluctantly took her suitcase to the car as she went out to the lawn for lunch and to say her goodbyes.
To Sarah, goodbyes were always the hardest part of vacations like this. She still wasn’t exactly sure how everyone was or wasn’t related, but she knew most peoples names at least.
She hugged everyone she could, stopping to squeeze Nova and Mia extra tight. “You’ll come to Vancouver over break, yeah?” she asked. They’d discovered their fall break fell over a home game stint.
Mia nodded, flashing a metal filled smile that had come out more and more as the days went on. “I talked to dad. He said he thinks he can get work off.”
“Great. You have my number, so call me when you’re ready to talk.” Part of the way through their beach day, Mia had asked if she could interview Sarah for her science class. She was supposed to ask a scientist about their use of the scientific method.
Sarah had laughed and pointed out the sticker on her water bottle. “You can’t use this in school. But this is basically the theory.” The sticker had the steps of the scientific method in a circle with the words ‘fuck around and find out’ around the outside. “I’ll give you some more eloquent answers, though,” she’d promised, knocking her shoulder into Mias as they laughed.
As he watched Sarah interact with his family, Quinn asked Jack if he wanted to drive with them. He agreed if they could stop for dinner in the city on the way back.
On the drive, Sarah made Quinn explain how everyone was related again. Jack jumped in to help when he forgot something, or he had a different way of remembering who belonged to what family.
Watching Sarah recite their family tree from the passenger seat, a sense of deja vu passed through Jack. Like seeing how she reacted after the loss, seeing her dedication to knowing how everyone their family loved fit together, he understood how his brother had fallen so hard and so fast.
When they arrived at the airport, Jack took care of getting Sarah’s bags out of the car so she and Quinn could have a few moments alone. Stepping onto the curb, he noticed several girls with their cell phones out, twittering and gossiping. All of their cameras were pointed at Sarah and Quinn, who were sharing a sweet goodbye. It could be a coincidence, but Jack put himself between the girls and his brother anyway.
When they finally parted, Sarah turned to Jack and wrapped him in a tight hug. He responded in kind, briefly lifting her off her feet. “See you soon?”
“Yeah.”
Turning back to Quinn, she threw her arms around him again. “I love you,” she whispered against his ear.
“I love you, too.”
Pulling back to look into his face, her hands moved to his jaw. “Only three weeks.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, keeping his voice quiet enough that Jack wouldn’t hear the emotion choking it.
“I’ll call when I get home.”
“And on your layover.”
“And on my layover,” she agreed before leaning up to press another soft kiss to his lips.
Watching her disappear into the crowd was the worst part. He sniffed.
Jack’s hand slipped onto his shoulder, and Quinn felt a comforting squeeze.
They got back into the car to head back to the cabin.
As Quinn pulled onto the freeway, Jack said, “I like her. She’s good for you.”
Though he knew Jack wasn’t feeling quite so defensive anymore, it was the first time he’d openly said he liked them together.
Quinn beamed, holding out a fist for Jack to bump.
“So can she come to Hawaii?” Quinn asked as they pulled off to go to the Chipotle.
Jack choked on the water he was drinking. “I don’t —” his mind scrambled for the reasons he gave before. “I mean, Sarah’s gonna be on every other family vacation until the end of time, right?”
Smiling, Quinn nodded, glad that Jack was picking up the vision.
“Can we have this this one just us? For the last time?”
He understood Jack’s reasoning, even if it did mean he wouldn’t see Sarah for another two weeks. Sighing, Quinn nodded.
Jack smiled to himself, knowing this surprise was going to be epic.
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Hey, I love your writing style a lot so I wanted to ask if your open for a Joseph Morgan request?
Here’s what I had in mind:
Reader is new on set of The Originals and on one of her first days, she has to film a spicy scene with Joseph. She feels uncomfortable about doing that with a co star she has a little crush on and generally have to undress for a scene. He calms her and guides her through it, always looking out that she’s comfortable. Just a cute Joseph please and the end is very up to you :)
Thank you <3
Camera Shy
Joining the Originals set was a long shot for me, I hadn't actually expected to be casted and casted as a love interest was more than I had even auditioned for.
Getting to know everyone on set was a little scary but everyone was lovely, and funny, some of them (Daniel) were especially funny and Daniel and Joseph together were a right sketch.
Claire, Phoebe, Riley and Danielle had been great at helping me feel apart of the group despite coming in late.
Scenes sometimes took a few takes and a lot of time but seeing them put all together made every second worth it.
The most difficult scenes had been the more romantic scenes with Joseph. The first make out scene had been so awkward, completely my fault, and therefore every other scene seemed to make me worse.
The amount of makeup they had to put on me to hide the way my cheeks blushed was embarrassing and even then sometimes I swear I could still see it on the camera.
The embarrassment was high enough just kissing let alone stripping down to my underwear in front of a dozen cameras, costars and directors. But the most anxiety raising part of it was knowing Joseph's hands were going to be the ones pulling my shirt off, tugging my jeans down and I was going to have to do the same to him.
They have us a half an hour break right before the scene, everyone was getting a coffee or whatever but I couldn't even thing about relaxing.
I felt sweaty, I felt like he would be able to smell me and tell that I was turned on and terrified all at once.
My breathing was rushed and broken as I looked at myself in the mirror. I couldn't cry, makeup had spent hours making sure I looked flawless.
But I couldn't help it as the nerves bred fast. My fingers tapped the desk in an unkept pattern, my eyes blurring up and nose getting stuffy.
I really hadn't expected the hands on my shoulders, the soft touch rubbing along my arms both gently and firmly.
"Do you feel okay, love?" He asked and I sniffed. "Do you need me to tell them you'll be off sick?"
"No..." I mumbled, trying to blink away any tears but he had it covered when a folded square of tissue tapped under my eyes carefully. "I'm sorry, I'm just being silly." I laughed but he only frowned.
"You're scared?" He murmured, arm wrapping around my waist in the gesture of comfort that I needed.
"I don't know...I've just never had to take off any clothes for TV before you know? I haven’t-" I swallowed down my words and he pulled me to a hug.
"I understand" he nodded, rubbing my back. "I can talk to them, we can change the scene or move it."
"We can't, I have to do it and I want to do it for the viewers but it's just really hard and people are gonna look and me and say things-"
"The only things anyone will say is how beautiful you look." He interrupted, eyes boring into mine like the ocean during the night, "Nobody will want you to do this scene if you feel this uncomfortable, I promise you they'll understand."
I sniffled and shook my head. "It's gonna be good for my career, I need to" I mumble and he squeezed me a little.
"I'll be right there for you, the whole time. I'll be gentle-" He tried to reassure but I knew the directors would retake.
"Klaus is rough, the script specifically says that-" I argued
"I'm not though and I don't care what the script says, it's not like they can fire me this late. So I'll be gentle and I'll take care of you." He told me firmly and I could only nod.
I looked as though nothing had happened by the time I was back out there. Cameras rolling, zooming in on us, I could feel them. But Joseph made sure I could feel him there too, sometimes when I looked at him during a scene I just saw him as his character but in that moment I knew it was just us, no Klaus just Joseph.
So when our lips met I let it be our lips, his hands on my body and my body only. Not who I was supposed to be. When my top was lifted from my body and his eyes looked into mine I knew what he was asking. When his hands popped the button on my jeans and slid them down my legs, I knew his intentions weren't to push me just to guide me. His touch encouraged me to return the favour, plucking his clothes from his skin like feathers from a bird. Like the feathers that covered is shoulder.
My fingers touched the tattoo, stroking it softly as his hands slid up to my waist and warmed my skin. I could faintly hear the camera crew calling cut as the scene faded out of picture.
But he didn't just leave me vulnerable and alone on the set. He didn't pull his clothes back on and go off laughing with the guys.
He rubbed my arms like he had earlier and asked if I felt okay and I did. His smile reached my heart and the kiss to my cheek somehow felt more intimate than the way his tongue had pushed at my lips moments ago.
A blanket from the set was wrapped over my shoulders as he lead me away and kept talking to me, just being there for me.
He made me feel safe; comfortable.
#joseph morgan x reader#joseph morgan#joseph morgan fluff#joseph morgan smut#the originals#the vampire diaries#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson x reader#klaus mikealson fanfiction#klaus mikaelson one shot#klaus mikaleson imagine#elijah mikaelson#rebekah mikaelson#the vampire diares imagine#kol mikaelson#niklaus imagines#tvd klaus#niklaus mikaelson#klaus m#klaus mikaelson x y/n#klaus michaelson#tvd universe#hope mikaelson#klaus mikaelson headcanon#klaus mikaelson fluff#klaus mikaelson yandere#klaus mikealson smut#klaus mikaelson x yn#klaus mikealson x reader#soft!klaus mikaelson
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can i request timmy and reader being costars and they have to film a bit of a spicy scene where they’re supposed to make out and basically dry hump each other. he ends up accidentally making her cum in her flimsy panties under the skirt she‘s supposed to be wearing. he doesn’t notice at first but then he sees the signs, the way she tenses up, how her hips stutter, the more authentic moans than the ones before, the look in her eyes as he kisses along her neck like scripted and one tiny, barely audible whimper of his name. his real name. not his characters name. which surprises him but turns him on like crazy. he ends up getting hard and reader notices after she‘s down from her high. then after the scene they’re really awkward towards each other at first but they end up fucking
Perversion//t.c.
Warnings: smut obvi, degradation, little bit of praise, cursing, light spanking, smoking
There were worse things in life than having to do a sex scene with one of Hollywood’s most promising actors. Timothée Chalamet was often referred to as his generation’s Leonardo DiCaprio. But you had gotten to know him as just Timmy.
You had big crush on him, as did a lot of people that worked with him, probably. He had this way about him that made you feel seen and special. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t excited about your intimate scene with him today. It may be the only time you’d ever be so close to him. You had to remind yourself that it wasn’t real, though, and that there were cameras and crew members all around.
The director instructed you to get on the bed, lying on your back. Timmy stood nearby, shirtless with a pair of jeans on as he chatted with a producer about the scene. It was dark outside, and the night was dreamy.
The director called action and Timmy climbed on top of you, kissing you upon contact. The directions were to make out and touch each other all over, with some dry humping on his part.
It felt so good being under the weight of him. His lips were soft and gentle, but he devoured you like he was starving. Timmy nestled between your legs. The only barrier keeping him from you was your thin panties you had on underneath your skirt.
His crotch grazed against you over and over as the scene progressed. He moaned, but it was just acting. He grabbed your ass, and groped your boobs.
Your body tensed up. His actions and his sounds were consuming you. You were soaking your panties.
Timmy’s soft hair brushed your cheek as he kissed and nipped at your neck. You felt the wetness of his mouth, his warm breath, and his teeth ever so gently on your throat. He squeezed your thigh, and that was it.
Your hips stirred and you moaned, but it was real. “Oh, Timmy.” you whimpered softly, only for him to hear.
It was then that he looked at you, breaking character himself, and he realized what happened. It was real for you. He made you come without evening knowing. You moaned his name, not the name of the character he was playing.
“Cut!” called the director, “That was great guys. Let’s move on.”
You rested against the throw pillow under your head, and you steadied your breathing.
Timmy stayed still for a second, his hands rested on your hips.
You looked down and saw that he had a hard-on under his jeans.
Without saying a word, he got up and walked directly off the set.
………
Later, there was a dinner for the cast and crew. You and Timmy sat together as usual, as you had become friends since working on the movie together. But it was awkward between you now. You didn’t know what to say to him. You didn’t want to make it any weirder than it already was.
He was very quiet, and fidgety, nothing like himself. He didn’t talk to hardly anyone. Especially you. You were so disappointed, so scared that you ruined everything. Fucking hormones. Fucking feelings.
You decided to try to give him a compliment, to break the ice. “You were great today, by the way. You always do an amazing job, Timmy.”
“Oh, I can kiss? Thanks.” Timmy snarled in sarcasm. He finished eating and off he went again.
His remark left you feeling even more uncomfortable than before, and you really wanted to make things right. You took it upon yourself to go find him in his dressing room and talk this out.
You knocked on his door, “Timmy? I’m sorry about earlier, okay? Let’s talk.” you begged.
You stood there a moment and just as you were convinced that he wasn’t going to answer, the door opened.
“Hey.” you said, “Can we just pretend that what happened earlier didn’t happen?”
He shook his head, “No, y/n, we can’t.” he answered sharply.
“Fuck,” you sighed, “I’m sorry. I should have controlled myself. But I thought we were friends. I was hoping we could look passed this."
“Well, it’s hard to be friends with someone after they give you a boner, and then all you can think about is fucking their brains out.” his eyes flicked up at you.
Your eyes widened, “What?”
Suddenly, he grabbed you by the back of your neck, forcing you into the room. His mouth was on yours before he slammed the door shut. It was a strange contrast to how he was in the scene. His lips were acting fast and harsh, "Take off your clothes." he ordered, his low voice hardly resembled his natural tone.
Fuck, you wanted this. You wanted him. You'd do anything he said. He let you go so he could lock the door and you began to undress like he told you to.
Once you were down to your bra and panties, he shoved you against a table, "You're still wearing the underwear you came inside of earlier?" In one movement, he unclasped your bra and pulled it off of you.
You let out a huff as he shoved you face down on the table. You whimpered as you felt the coldness of it on your nipples. You placed your hands on the tabletop, and your cheek rested on it.
"Little slut wants to be fucked by me so bad." he grumbled, yanking your panties down.
The air was cold on your soaked pussy. You shuddered at the sensation.
"Holy shit." Timmy said under his breath, he touched your clit, letting his fingers run along your labia.
You gasped as he entered a finger into your sensitive hole, "Fuck." you muttered. You shifted on your feet, feeling so needy, and so dirty.
"You're so desperate. So pathetic." he spat. He shoved in a second finger, pumping them in and out of you. A light smacking sound hit the air between you and him. He rubbed your clit softly, achingly slowly. He did it to tease you, to edge you, you knew it.
You'd take his insults, or whatever abuse he wanted to heed against you. You wanted him so badly. You could feel his clothed boner rubbing against your ass. His fingers were removed from you, and without warning, the palm of his hand came down fiercely on your ass cheek, leaving a stinging pain on your skin.
As you cried in ecstasy, you heard his zipper come undone, and he shoved his cock into you in a matter of seconds.
"I'll fuck you like the needy little whore you are." he growled, pumping his hips into you, his waist slapping your ass loudly.
You moaned and muttered small cries of pleasure. Once his fingers met your clit, as his cock rammed you, it was just a minute before you came. Your legs grew weak, but he held you up. You had no choice but to keep yourself on your feet.
Timmy grabbed a handful of your hair, he didn't pull, but he got you to raise up some. You looked ahead of you, seeing a mirror. Oh god, you could watch him fuck you!
You saw your own reflection as well, your hair was madly disheveled, your skin flushed with color, as well as the skin of your lover. Timmy let out an exhale, and you noticed some sweat on his neck. He didn't look into the mirror; his eyes were fixed on you. He'd alternate between fucking you roughly, and then giving you shallow pumps of his cock. He gave little tugs on your hair, but not enough to really hurt. He was being playful.
He smacked your ass again. The muscles in his torso flexing and bulging as he rocked into you. You felt like you were watching porn, but it was you that he was fucking, so you felt all the effects. It was incredible.
He pulled you closer, your back against his chest now. He let go of your hair and placed his hand on your throat. He pulled you into a kiss. Soft pumps into you now, but he was hitting you deep.
"mmm." you moaned into his mouth.
Timmy slipped his tongue in, letting it roll with yours in a heated French kiss. He palmed each of your tits roughly and nibbled on your bottom lip.
He pulled away from you after a moment, his hands left you, but his cock remained in your pussy. He tapped your hips lightly with his fingers, saying, "Fuck me, y/n."
You then used the little amount of strength you had left to throw your ass back against him. You whimpered loudly as his cock railed your insides. Your butt cheeks slapped his waistline, and you heard him chuckle lowly in satisfaction. He held your hips and started to pull you to him with each of your thrusts.
"Ah fuck, so good." he praised.
You weren't sure what turned you on more: his insults or encouragement.
His fingers met your lips, and you opened them. He wet his fingertips with your spit, then slid his fingers down the front of your body to find your clit again. You couldn't keep moving, so he took over for you, ramming his cock into you as he rubbed your clit. Your body shook with overstimulation, and you came again.
Timmy pulled his cock out of you, and turned you around, and put you on the table. He jerked his cock for a few seconds before his cum busted out in several ropes.
You gasped as his creamy seed collected into tiny puddles on your abdomen. You relaxed against the flatness of the table, trying to catch your breath, coming down from your high.
Timmy muttered some curse words under his breath before leaning over you, his hand planted right next to your head. He smirked and kissed you, moaning onto your lips.
He then walked over and picked up a t-shirt from somewhere in the room and tossed it on you.
You used the shirt to clean up his mess, and you heard the flick of a lighter. You looked over to him and watched as he lit a cigarette.
He closed his eyes, leaned his head back as he inhaled. He blew out the smoke and opened his eyes, catching your gaze.
"Those are bad for you, ya know." you said as you sat up on the table. You couldn't help but smirk at him as you thought about what had just occurred in the dressing room.
"I think you're worse for me." he joked, grinning as he took another drag.
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar
#timothée chalamet#timmy chalamet#timothee x reader#timothée imagine#timothee chalamet smut#timothee chalamet#timothee chalamet imagine#timothee chalamet fanfic
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I Found Love (Where It Wasn't Supposed To Be) Pt. 3
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen/ Rhaenyra's Daughter!Reader
Summary: You and Aemond had always been close, even after he lost his eye and your mom moved your family to Dragonstone. What will happen when your grandsire dies and Aegon takes the throne from your mother? Will you and Aemond be able to stay together? Or will family drive you apart?
Authors Note: Cross posted on AO3, Aemond and Reader are of legal age during all spicy scenes.
CW: Uncle/Niece, Secret Relationship, attempted SA
Part 1 Part 2
Your whole body trembles as the cold stone of the dungeon cuts through to your bones, the thin sleep shirt doing nothing to help warm you as you pull hopelessly at the chains that bind you to the wall of the cell. The cuffs have started to rub uncomfortably against your wrists from the struggle.
The sound of multiple sets of footsteps draws your attention. You shrink back against the wall, heart hammering in your chest, as King’s Guards open the cell door and part allowing King Aegon to enter.
Aemond roared, embedding yet another throwing ax into the chest of a training dummy. The training yard around him, usually bustling with people, was empty. Those that had been there quickly abandoned what they were doing as Aemond stalked out of the doors to the yard. He had been in the training yard all morning, taking his anger out on the hay-filled sacs formed to resemble a person. By the time he was done, sweat-soaked and out of breath, the sun was high in the sky. Straws of hay and fabric scraps littered the ground, alongside a few wooden training swords that had been snapped in half.
Running a hand through his hair, Aemond sighed heavily, leaning against a wall and sliding down to sit. Resting his arms over his knees and his head back against the wall, Aemond allowed his eyes to close. Running the various hidden paths with the best chance of getting to you and getting you out through his mind.
“My prince.” Aemond opens his eye, squinting up at Ser Criston Cole. Cole bows slightly in greeting, “The Dowager Queen requests your presence, she has asked me to escort you.”
Aemond scoffs, standing and brushing the dirt and dust from his clothes. “She requests me.” He repeats, voice sardonic. “That implies that I can decline her.”
He struts past Cole, walking up to the bottom of the staircase leading inside. Pausing, Aemond looked over his shoulder flippantly and mockingly saying, “Lead the way Ser Criston.” Swooping his arms dramatically and bending at the waist.
You grunt, coughing harshly, as another kick makes contact with your already bruising body. Spitting blood out on the floor, you pant, frantically pulling in air.
You yelp in pain as your hair is roughly gripped at the roots. The hand in your hair yanks you up, forcing you to look at the man.
Aegon smiles cruelly at you, his eyes wide and crazy. He says something, probably an insult, but you can’t hear him over the ringing in your ears. He turns his head away from you, looking behind him at the guard who had entered. You can hear muffled yelling as Aegon argues with the guard before his face twists up in disgust. He drops your head, leaving the cell. Your body, weak and unable to hold its weight, slumps to the ground.
Aemond enters his mothers chambers, a guard announcing his presence. His mother stands near a hearth, biting at the nail of her thumb. At his arrival, she drops her hand quickly. Aegon and, to Aemonds surprise, Helaena, sit on the couches near their mother. Aegon soothingly massages his foot with his hands, hissing slightly every couple seconds or so. Helaena embroiders across from Aegon, unbothered and uncaring of the room around her.
Aemond sits down next to Aegon with a huff, “Must you do that now, brother? Your feet smell worse than the streets of Flea Bottom.”
Aegon barks a laugh at his brother, “And what would you know of the smells of Flea Bottom?”
Before Aemond can respond, Queen Alicent speaks. “Enough.” She sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We need to speak about the possibility of war,” she continues.
“Isn’t this a conversation better suited for the council?” Aegon voices, for once aware of the situation.
“It will be in due time. But this is something family,” she casts a pointed look at Aemond, “should know first. Rhaenyra has sent a letter.”
Aemond perks up slightly, his eye watching his mother closely. His jaw tightens and Aegon makes some snide remark about the ‘Whore of Dragonstone’.
“She has made demands of the throne, and in turn, threatened the rightful king. Claiming that she shall have his head should her spy of a daughter not be returned to her.” Aegon scoffs as Queen Alicent finishes.
Aemond laughs as well. He laughs like a madman at his mother and brother, who both look at him quizzically.
“And what do you find so humorous, brother? Is the thought of my head on a stick that entertaining to you?” Aegon jests, jabbing his elbow against Aemonds side.
Aemond stands, ignoring his brother completely. “I find it laughable that you pretend to have no part in this,” He says pointedly at Queen Alicent. “Acting as if your actions haven’t directly caused these threats. What did you expect to happen? Throwing her eldest child into the dungeons.. did you think Rhaenyra would simply roll over and submit?”
“I did only what was necessary to protect–“ Queen Alicent begins to say, walking towards Aemond as if he were a frightened dog.
“Protect what?” Aemond sneers, out of the corner of his eye he sees Helaena pause. “She had done nothing wrong! You imprisoned her simply for your own personal vendetta against her mother.”
“Son, we– I had reasonable suspicion that her presence meant no good.. I was– am looking out for you.” Queen Alicent placed a tentative hand against Aemonds cheek, only for it to be slapped away harshly.
Aemond scowls at his mother. Closing his eye and taking a steadying breath before turning and leaving.
Aemond strides through the dungeon of the Red Keep. Head held high and his shoulders relaxed. He had learned early on in life that if you acted like you belonged somewhere, people tended to not question your presence.
He glances into each cell as he passes, checking for you in each one. Nearing the end of the long corridor, Aemond listens as faint, muffled talking becomes more clear.
“Ya think he killed her? I ain’t seen her move since he left.” A guard says. Aemond notes the lack of white armor, Not Kingsguard, he thinks to himself.
“Nah, I can still see ‘er breathing.” The second replies. Both guards stand leaning against the wall, relaxed and at ease. Neither had noticed Aemond yet.
Aemonds steps slow momentarily, growing quiet, as he stalks towards them. No noticeable weapons, they were either unarmed or had hidden daggers on the person.
“Can’t be that far off though..” The first guard comments. The other one nods, humming his agreement.
Aemond clears his throat, announcing his presence. The guards stand from the wall, frantically scrambling into position with their hands behind their backs, heads straight, and eyes forward. Aemond stands silently, watching the guards shift on their feet uncomfortably.
“You are dismissed.” He says. The guards visibly relax, if only a tiny bit, and begin to leave. Hugging the wall as the pass Aemond. “One last thing,” Aemond continues.
The guards stop in their tracks, turning slightly so as to not face Aemond directly. “Give me the keys to that cell.” Aemond finished, indicating with his head towards your cell while holding a hand out.
One of the guards smirks, unclamping the keys from his belt. “Want to take yer turn with ‘er, my prince?” He teases, “she ain’t gonna be much fun though.. little fight left in ‘er.”
Aemonds jaw clenches as he scowls. “I would watch my tone around those higher than I, guard, what I do or don’t do with the prisoner is none of your concern.” He growls. “Leave, before I decide I want your tongue for speaking out of turn.”
The guard's smirk fell and his face went pale. Quickly mumbling an apology. Dropping the keys into Aemonds palm, both guards scurried away with their tails tucked between their legs.
Aemond pauses a few moments, waiting until he can no longer hear footsteps, before turning on his heel and hastily unlocking the door to your cell. The sight of you laying on the floor in a bruised heap simultaneously breaks his heart and makes his blood boil. He carefully crosses the small distance between you and him, kneeling down in front of you. Your eyes are open, but distant and unfocused. If it weren’t for the shallow breaths you occasionally took in he would think you were dead.
“Issa jorrāelagon (my love),” He speaks softly, brushing some hair away from your face. You flinch back, blinking your eyes back into focus. “Shh, my dear… it’s just me.”
“Ae–mond?” Your voice is rough when you speak.
“Yes, love, it’s me…” His brow furrows, taking in your disheveled state. The trembling in your arms as you struggle to push yourself up into a sitting position, the wince as you cradle an arm around your midsection. He can’t see any noticeable cuts or bruises on your face or neck, which soothes him a little. But he can tell from how carefully you protect your stomach that, should he lift the fabric of your sleepwear, he would see dark bruising taking form.
Gently, Aemond reaches out and lays his hand over your arm. “Who did this? Tell me which guard it was and I shall have their body hung from the gates.”
You’re shaking your head before he can finish. “Wasn’t a guard..” you reply weakly.
“Who, then… if not a guard.. who?” He softly pry’s.
“I can’t say…” Your words are nothing but a painful whisper as tears roll down your cheeks. Aemond carefully gathers you in his arms, pulling you against his chest and stroking your hair.
“Please, love, tell me.. if you do not know the name, describe them to me and I will find them.” He whispers.
You take a slow steadying breath, “Promise me that you won’t do anything rash.”
“I don’t make promises I cannot keep,” He replies, and then after a beat of silence, “I promise to try.”
“It was Aegon…” Your words hang thick in the air around the two of you. You can feel Aemond’s chest quickly rise and fall as he struggles to remain calm.
“Aegon did this?” His words are strained and his grip on you tightens ever so slightly. You nod against his chest and Aemond brings one of his hands to cup your face, moving you until he can look into your eyes. “What did he do? Did he–“ Aemond swallow’s, his body tense as he asks, “did he touch you?”
“Not… not in the way you imply..” You watch as his shoulders relax and he releases a breath. “The only part of him to touch me was his boot.”
“I should return the favor to him… for daring to hurt you,” Aemond snarls. Panic flashes in your eyes briefly as you start to speak before he stops you, reassuring, “I won’t do anything rash, love. I am smarter than that.”
He tucks you back against his chest, his arms once again encircling you, protecting you. Aemond rests his cheek against your hair as the two of you sit on the cold stone floor. It isn’t until you hear voices talking in the distance that Aemond speaks in a hushed voice.
“I have to go, Issa jorrāelagon (my love).” He places a featherlight kiss against your forehead before standing. “I will come back for you.. that I can promise.”
“I know you will,” You say back, the threat of tears burning the back of your eyes. “Just don’t take too long..”
“I won’t.” Aemond shuts the cell door behind him and clicks the lock into place with a heavy heart, stuffing the key in his pocket.
With his head held high and his shoulders squared, Aemond strides out of the dungeons. Only slightly relieved that the voices you both had heard belonged to a small group of cleaners. He ignores them as they part for him to walk past, heading towards the stairs that lead to his room.
Passing by Helaena, Aemond nods in greeting. Step faltering only for a second as he hears her muttering to herself.
“In the flames of sorrow, a dragon's mark is lost”
Aemond sits at the council table, listening to Ser Tyland Lannister complain about… whatever it was he complained about normally. After a sleepless night of worrying and plotting, Aemond really couldn’t care less.
He listens half-heartedly as the council moves past Lannisters whining and begins discussing things that are actually important; procuring food for the dragons while also not starving the small folk, training the newest round of guards, et cetera, et cetera.
Aemond glances towards his brother, who is laughably in over his head. Aegon sits at the head of the table, eyes wide as he fumbles for solutions that don’t sound as if a child has thought of them. Aemond scowls. This was the person–the bastard– that had hurt you.
“Now then,” Lord Jasper Wylde starts. “We should discuss what to do with the princess.”
Aemond snaps from his thoughts, now paying close attention to the conversation at hand. His eyes scan the expressions on each member of the council, even looking briefly at the few guards that stood against the walls. Each man shifted uncomfortably in their seat, barely looking at one another and out right refusing to look at either Aegon or Aemond.
It’s Grand Maester Orwyle that speaks first. “Perhaps we should send her back to Dragonstone. We could use it as a sign of good faith, claim it as a mistake.”
“And admit we were in the wrong?” Aemond‘s grandsire, Ser Otto Hightower, spoke. “You would wish to make a fool of your king? Grand Maester?”
“No, Lord Hand… I would never!” Maester Orwyle spoke quickly, eyes going impossibly wide and shifting fearfully between the members of council and the kingsguard.
“Perhaps we could send her off to marry,” Ser Tyland Lannister suggested. “As the king and her uncle, it is well within your right to secure an alliance through marrying off the females in your bloodline.”
Aemonds blood boiled. These men wished to marry off. Send you away to spend your days with some old pig. What enraged him most, however, was the look of consideration Aegon had. The bastard was actually considering it. Aemond couldn’t stop the scoff that escaped his lips.
“Something funny, Brother?” Aegon jests, his eyes narrowing.
“It is a stupid plan.” Aemond replies simply, his eye staring back at Aegon in a silent challenge.
“And what else would you suggest? Aemond the Fierce” Aegon was mocking him. He only used that title, that nickname, as a way of belittling Aemond.
“I have been in contact with the pretender,” Aemond lies, “She is willing to bargain for her daughter's safe return home.”
Aegon study’s Aemond for a moment, trying to work out if the lie was just that, a lie. When he finally speaks, it’s slow as if the words are being carefully chosen.
“You’ve been conversing. With the pretender. And you didn’t think to tell me?” Aegon rests his arms on the table in front of him, folding his hands.
“Gaoma oznehurkta mīrēbagon aō bēvules. (You had more pressing matters to attend to.)” Aemond replies, leaning back in his chair casually. “Skorkydoso istan ziry? Naejot ōdrikagon nykeā ābra bona istan ōregion ilagon? Gōntan ziry mazverdagon ao kraj? Kostōba? Issi ao jōzigon hen skoros ao gōntan, lēkia? Skorkydoso kostōba jāhor ao sagon lo nyke gaomagon keskydoso naejot ao? Nyke pendagon. (How was it? To hurt a woman that was held down? Did it make you powerful? Strong? Are you proud of what you did, brother? How strong will you be if I do the same to you. I wonder.)
His voice eerily calm as he speaks to his brother, taunting Aegon in his own way as the elder had never quite gotten a grasp on the language. He watched Aegon slowly work through what each word meant and try to form a rebuttal. The rest of the council silently watched the two brothers, stock still and muscles tense.
Aemond quirked a brow, tilting his head, “Sȳrī…skoros iksos aōha udligon? (Well… what is your answer?)”
Aegon’s face turns a light shade of red and his jaw clenches. Abruptly standing, he addresses the rest of the council. “I will need to think over all of the options given today. We will meet again in the morning.”
The members stood, waiting for their king to leave the room first. As Aegon passed Aemond he paused, leaning in to whisper, “Be careful, brother. Your heart is showing.”
You claw desperately at the hands around your throat. Your legs thrash underneath you, trying to kick away the Kingsguard that had you pinned against the jagged stone wall. You could feel the stone digging into your back, cutting and scratching against the flesh.
“Not so high and mighty now, eh, but princess.” Ser Criston Cole sneers, his grip tightening. There would be marks left, you briefly thought.
You reach out a hand and scratch at his face, your nails leaving angry red lines in his cheek as he hisses and lets go of your neck. You drop to the ground like dead weight, coughing and wheezing as you try to catch your breath.
“You bitch!” Ser Criston growls. He grabs a fistful of your hair at the roots and yanks, forcing you to your knees. The back of his hand connects with your cheek, the armor cutting into your skin and you feel as blood trails down over your jaw. His lip curls in disgust, “The council met today. They discussed what to do with you.”
He releases the grip on your hair, glaring down at you. He rolls you onto your back with the bottom of his shoe before stepping down on your stomach. You groan in pain, trying to lift his foot off of you.
“They mentioned sending you away to marry. Probably an old pig.” Ser Criston mocks. “Or maybe…” he moves his foot, stepping over you and kneeling, straddling your mid section. He leans down, bracing his hands on either side of your head, and whispers against your ear. “Maybe, we should send you back to your mother as used goods.”
He laughed, watching your eyes grow wide in fear. You thrash underneath him, fighting to push him off of you. Ser Criston gathers your wrists in one of his hands and pins them above your head, using the other to turn your face to the side. He leans down, licking up the side of your neck before biting down on the flesh where your neck and shoulder meets.
Tears stream down your cheeks as he continues, roughly pulling the top of your sleepwear down to uncover you. Ser Criston hums in appreciation as he trails his tongue over your breasts.
“Please… stop,” You whimper.
He covers your mouth with his free hand. “Whores. Don’t. Speak.” He spits out before roughly removing his hand.
Without letting go of your wrists, he maneuvers your bodies. He now kneels between your legs, which are spread around his waist. His free hand trails down your body. You try to scream for help but his hand returns to your mouth, muffling your cries as his fingers dig painfully into your cheek. Your wrists are freed from his grasp as he begins to hastily work at removing his cock from his trousers.
And then suddenly, Ser Criston is no longer above you. His hand no longer over your mouth, his body no longer between your legs as Aemond yanks him away and punches him squarely across the jaw. Aemond hits him again, knocking the Kingsguard to the floor. He kneels over top of Ser Criston, repeatedly punching his face. Blood splattered against the floor and bones break with sickening crunches as Aemond all but roars in anger, not stopping until the Kingsguard is laying limp and unrecognizable.
Aemond stands slowly as he uses Ser Criston’s white cloak to wipe the blood off of himself, panting harshly as the adrenaline leaves him. Pushing out a breath of air, Aemond turns to you.
You had barely moved from where Ser Criston had you pinned, only shifting to cover yourself. You stare, wide eyed like a doe, as Aemond crouches before you and cups your cheek gently.
Resting his forehead against yours he apologizes, “I’m so sorry…”
You shake your head, “it wasn’t your fault..”
“I still feel guilty all the same..” He shifts, lightly grasping your wrists and unlocking the chains that keep you bound to the small cell. Standing, Aemond holds his hands out to help you stand, “We need to hurry, can you walk?”
You stand on shaky legs, taking a tentative step before your legs give out beneath you. “It appears not…” you joke, laughing dryly before wincing and clutching at your stomach.
Aemond bends, placing one arm behind your knees and the other around your waist. He mutters a quick, “Place your arms around my neck,” before lifting you.
As quietly and quickly as he can while holding you, Aemond makes his way towards the opposite end of the hall from the entrance. Against the wall hangs a large portrait of Maegor I.
“Love, can you pull the portrait from the wall?” Aemond quietly asks. You nod, reaching out a hand and pulling at the frame.
After a few tugs at it, the portrait finally shifts as the unused hinges groan. Behind the portrait sits a passageway that appears to have been forgotten for some time. Spiderwebs cover the ceiling and dust gathers in the corners. Torches line the walls but few are actually lit. Aemond had lit them before coming to you, he explains.
“Use your sleeve to cover your mouth and nose, it’ll be easier to breathe.” Aemond says as he steps into the passageway before the portrait swings shut with an echoing thud.
The trek is slow, but eventually you reach an old door at the end of the hallway. Aemond carefully sets you down, “I’m going to make sure it’s safe, I’ll be right back.” He whispers, placing a kiss against your forehead.
He disappears beyond the door for a moment and you hear deep rumbling sounds that vibrate the earth below you. When he reappears moments later, scooping you up into his arms again and swiftly exiting the hidden passageway, you are met with the sight of Vhagar. Carefully he lifts you up onto her saddle, with help from Vhagar as she shrinks down as close as she can to the ground. It takes some careful effort but eventually you are seated in front of Aemond as he guides the dragon into the sky.
As Vhagar levels out above the clouds your body relaxes. No longer feeling the need to be on edge. With your body relaxing, the adrenaline running through you dissipates and a sharp pain rips through you. You scream out, in equal parts shock and pain. Curling in on yourself as you clench your eyes shut.
“What is it?” Aemond asks, concern lacing his voice. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t–“ Another scream of pain is ripped from your throat, “I don’t know!” You sob, tears running down your cheeks.
“Adere (Quick), Vhagar!” Aemond urges the dragon to fly faster. “Endure just a little longer, Issa jorrāelagon (my love), we will reach Dragonstone soon..”
Your eyes snap to his, “Dragonstone?! No.. Aemond they will– argh!… they’ll kill you..”
“It’s a risk I’ll take for you.” Aemond says. He knew the risk he was taking by bringing you back, but he knew your mother enough to think he would be able to converse and explain himself. He hopes he’s right in his assessment of Rhaenyra.
Upon nearing Dragonstone, Aemond spots the yellow scales of Syrax and the red serpent-like neck of Caraxes waiting for him on the outermost rocks. He circles Vhagar lower until she can carefully land on the uneven terrain.
“It’ll be alright love.. you’ll be okay.” He whispers into your hair as he places, what might be his last, kiss against your forehead. He slides off of Vhagar’s back, turning to help you down. Once you are safe within his arms, Aemond turns towards your mother and Daemon.
“I come in peace!” He calls to them, “She is hurt, I know not how badly..”
Your mother is the first to close the distance, rushing to where you are cradled against Aemonds chest. “What happened to her?” Your mother hisses.
“She was beaten while in the dungeons.. but there is time to discuss that later. She needs a maester.” Aemond responds curtly. Your mother opens her arms and moves to take you from Aemond, who’s grip tightens around you. You curl further against him, your hands clenching the fabric of his shirt tightly, and whine as another jab of pain runs through you.
“Aemond…” You voice weakly. He looks down to you, face wet with tears and brows scrunched in pain.
“I will carry her.” He says to your mother in a way that leaves no room for argument. Her jaw clenches, but she nods and turns to lead him to your room.
The maester’s tests were there own form of torture. All the poking and prodding had you screaming from the pain until you eventually passed out. They cleaned your wounds and dressed you in something warmer to fight off the chill that took over your body. It’s when they removed the dirty sleep shirt you had been in, that they notice blood between your legs.
“We believe that the princess was with child,” the maester relays to Aemond and Rheanyra. “It is likely that the source of her pain was the death of the babe. My deepest sympa–”
Aemonds hearing muffles. He can see the maesters lips moving as he speaks, and Rheanyra’s as she responds. But he can’t hear the words over the ringing in his ears.
You were pregnant. You were pregnant. He was going to be a father… wasn’t, not anymore.
His feet were moving before he could tell them to, carrying him down the hall to your room. To you.
Opening the door and shutting it as quietly as possible he turns to face you. You’re laying in the middle of your bed, propped up by multiple pillows, sleeping. He crosses the room to you, carefully climbing into the bed and curling around you.
“Mm.. Aemond?” You ask groggily, looking at him. You notice the far off look in his eye and reach a hand up to his cheek, startling him slightly. “Is everything– are you okay?”
“I have some bad news, my dear..” He says quietly. Taking a deep breath he tells you, “You were pregnant.. but the trauma you endured… you lost the child..”
You stare at him, mouth parted slightly. “I was… I…” You stutter, struggling to wrap your head around it.
“Yes, love… you were..” Aemond says. He pulls you closer to him, tucking your head against chest. “But, we’ll get through it.. together.”
“Together…” You whisper.
Part 1 Part 2
#aemond x reader#aemond imagine#aemond x you#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen imagine#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x you#hotd#house of the dragon#hotd imagine#hotd x reader#house of the dragon fanfiction#ewan mitchell
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Strictly Business Pt 1
Summary: Spencer wants to gain sexual experience before asking his out his dream date. You just want a way to release stress. What could go wrong?
Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. BAU Reader
Warnings: Descriptions of crime scenes/cases. Friends with benefits. Eventual smut.
W/C: 1.5K
You roll your eyes at Officer Brewer. The handsome cop came on pretty strong with his cheesy pickup lines. Each one was more inappropriate than the last. It’s not that you didn’t find him attractive, but in your five years at the BAU, you had learned not to hook up with the officers you were assisting.
You had only been with the team three months when you were called in to help Portland’s local police on a case. Deputy Julian Lopez had been assigned to assist you on the field and you quickly fell for him. It took six weeks to catch the unsub. During that time, you and Julian were sneaking around, having a secret relationship.
You were heartbroken to learn he had been using you for information he fed to the media to make himself look like the sole hero on the case. What made it worse was the scolding Hotch gave you. You should have known better.
You and your favorite coworker, Spencer were on your way out of the small police station to see the medical examiner. A jogger had stumbled across two bodies in the woods on their daily route. The two of you were going to see if you could find any similarities between them.
“Hey beanpole, take care of my girl for me.” Brewer called out to Reid, winking at you in a way that made bile rise in your throat. “You don’t actually like that guy, do you?” Spencer asked once you left. “No way! I just flirt with him to make sure he cooperates with us.”
Spencer took his plump bottom lip between his teeth. You watched the innocent act wondering what it would feel like to have his teeth sink into your lip like that. You were attracted to Spencer, there was no denying that. It was purely sexual though. You knew the kind of hectic life JJ and Will had. You wanted no part of that.
You didn’t understand why there wasn’t a pile of women at his feet at all times. But so many thought he was too awkward or talked too much. You found it endearing when he shared the information his brain retained from reading something only once.
The two of you were closest to each other out of everyone on the team. You read together on the way home from cases. You would let him look at the latest book you were reading. He would finish it in three minutes, then continue with his own. Once you had finished, he would discuss it with you. You loved that about him.
You mostly read smutty romance, and you looked forward to the blush that would flood his cheeks when he read a particularly spicy scene. Sometimes he would clear his throat and shift in his seat. Those were your favorite moments. You spent most of your spare time together watching movies, you were teaching him how to cook and he taught you how to play chess. You paled in comparison to his skills, but he enjoyed playing with you.
When you returned to the police station, Spencer started giving statistics about the unsub. You watched as he scrunched his nose when he got to a part he found particularly interesting. You were practically drooling when he started talking with his hands. You couldn’t help thinking of what they would feel like against your skin.
You squeeze your thighs together trying to suppress the throb in your panties. Most everyone hated when he went off on a tangent, spilling every detail he knew about something, but not you. You never interrupted him once he started. You thought it was incredibly sexy how much endless information was stored in that brilliant mind under his messy curls.
After four long days, the case was finally solved. Morgan had captured the unsub when he went back to visit the crime scene. The whole team and the local police went out to the closest dive bar to celebrate. You were three shots in when Officer Brewer asked you to dance.
You decided it wouldn’t hurt, and you felt a little bad for shamelessly flirting with him all week. To your surprise, he was a great dancer. He spun and dipped you like a professional. When the song ended, you both walked over to the large booth both of your coworkers had settled in. Brewer placed his hands on your hips pulling you tightly against his body. He pointed at Spencer. “That’s how you woo a lady, Einstein. I’ve seen how you look at her. Just know she’s in good hands. She will be sleeping with a real man. She’ll be screaming my name tonight.”
You quickly remove his hands from your body. One glance at Spencer was enough for you to know that the jab had hurt him. Luckily, Brewer wouldn’t be able to tell. But you could read Spencer like a book. You grabbed the nearest drink off the table, splashing it in his face.
“You pompous ass! I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on Earth. For your information, Spencer is more of a man than you’ll ever be. He’s the perfect lover. He knows the female anatomy like you know your ABC’s. He can spell out Webster’s Dictionary in its entirety with his tongue when he goes down on me. He’s incredible.”
Spencer looks at you in disbelief. His brown eyes widen as he takes in what just happened. You take his hand in yours. “I’m ready to go.” He stands and walks out with you. You go back to the hotel spending the rest of the night watching rom coms on TV.
When you were back home, everyone was talking about what you said at the bar. Most importantly, you had to explain to Hotch that you and Spencer were not involved. He didn’t want to deal with all of the paperwork or the drama if it didn’t work out.
Penelope, Emily, and JJ cornered you by the coffee wanting every dirty detail of your hookup with Spencer. They were understanding when you explained you made it all up to defend him. Rossi seemed amused by the gossip. When you tried to set the record straight, he said “What you kids do behind closed doors is your business.”
Morgan was a different story entirely. He greeted Spencer with a high five. “My man! You could have told me. You and Y/N, huh? I’ve seen you two all cuddled up after cases. I should’ve guessed.” Despite Spencer denying anything between you, Derek couldn’t be convinced otherwise.
A few weeks passed, the gossip had been long forgotten with all the cases you had been working on. Your first free weekend, Rossi invited everyone to his house for a cooking lesson. The wine was flowing, even Spencer had a few glasses.
He was chatting with Derek about some girl he met through his Dr Who fan club. Spencer described her as his dream girl, but he was nervous to ask her out. Derek slapped him playfully on the back. “At least you’re not a virgin anymore, Pretty Boy. You should have plenty of confidence with the ladies now.”
Spencer’s face fell. He stormed out of the house. You followed after him, concerned for your friend. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You catch up to him, sitting on the step beside him. “I’m just tired of all the comments on my personal life. Just because I don’t have a different girl in my bed every night doesn’t mean I’m a virgin. Can I ask you something?”
“Sure, anything.” You reply laying your head on his shoulder. “Why did you say all that stuff at the bar?” He places his head on top of yours. His mop of messy brown hair flowing down your cheek. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just trying to stand up for you. I wasn’t going to let anyone talk to you like that.”
“I know that. I meant… Never mind.” He lifts his head and scoots over, distancing himself from you. “What is it? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” He sighs looking everywhere but at you. “Why did you say I was a perfect lover and that thing about the dictionary?”
“It just kinda came out. I guess I said it because that’s what I always imagined it would be like.” Finally he looks at you. “You’ve imagined doing that with me?” His voice raises several octaves when he asks. You nod your head in response. You could tell the conversation was taking an awkward turn so you change the subject.
“So tell me about this dream girl. You’ve been keeping secrets!” He smiles sheepishly. “Her name’s Chloe. She’s brilliant. We like a lot of the same things. She speaks three languages. I want to ask her out on a date, but all that stuff Morgan said is messing with my head. What if I’m not enough for her? I’ve only been with one woman. I’m not exactly skilled in that department.”
He swallows hard, self doubt sketched all over his soft features. “I would like to have more experience before I take her out. So I can be more confident.��� “I have a crazy idea. You can say no if you want. But what if we slept together? You want more experience and I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. It would be great practice for you since we are comfortable with each other. I would tell you what you need to improve on. And it would be a good stress reliever for me. What do you think?”
Spencer studies your face carefully looking for any signs of this being a cruel joke. When he is certain you meant it, he answers. “What about our friendship? I don’t want to mess this up.” He gestures between you.
“Of course we will still be friends. It’s not like we are going to fall in love. Think of it as a business transaction. We won’t let emotions get in the way. It will be strictly business.”
“No feelings?” He asks reaching his outstretched pinky towards you. “No feelings.” You confirm hooking your pinky with his.
Part Two
Tags (if you want to be added let me know)
@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85
#spencer reid#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!readr#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid fanfiction#Spencer Reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#strictly business
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Culinary Catastrophe
Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader
Warnings: none
Five Hargreeves was not one to shy away from a challenge. He had faced apocalyptic threats, time travel mishaps, and family drama with a calm demeanor. But tonight, he was taking on a different kind of challenge: cooking a romantic dinner for his wife, Y/N.
Five had meticulously planned the evening. He had chosen a recipe for her favorite dish, set the table with candles and flowers, and even picked out a nice bottle of wine. He wanted everything to be perfect.
As Y/N was out running errands, Five started in the kitchen with an air of confidence. How hard could it be? He had faced the end of the world multiple times; surely, a simple dinner would be a piece of cake. He rolled up his sleeves and got to work.
Things began to unravel almost immediately. The first sign of trouble came when he couldn’t find the right ingredients. He had forgotten to buy fresh basil, and the grocery store only had dried herbs. “No problem,” he thought, “I’ll make do.”
Then, he realized he didn’t know how to properly dice an onion. What should have been a quick task turned into a tearful, uneven mess. By the time he had the onion somewhat chopped, his eyes were stinging so much he had to take a break.
Determined to press on, Five moved to the stove. He was supposed to sauté the onions until they were golden brown, but he got distracted looking for a misplaced spatula. The onions burned, filling the kitchen with smoke.
“Damn it,” Five muttered, opening the window to clear the air. He tossed the charred onions and started over, this time paying closer attention.
Next, he tried to make the sauce. The recipe called for a delicate balance of spices, cream, and tomatoes. Five, thinking he could eyeball the measurements, ended up with a concoction that was either too salty, too spicy, or just plain odd-tasting. Each attempt got progressively worse, and he was rapidly running out of ingredients.
Meanwhile, the pasta was supposed to be al dente, but Five misjudged the timing and ended up with a pot of mushy noodles. He groaned in frustration, his once pristine kitchen now a battlefield of dirty dishes, spilled ingredients, and a burned potholder.
Just as he was about to give up, the front door opened, and Y/N walked in. She sniffed the air, her brow furrowing. “What’s that smell?” she called out, heading towards the kitchen.
Five, who had flour on his shirt and sauce splattered on his face, turned to face her with a sheepish grin. “Uh, surprise?”
Y/N took in the scene: the chaotic kitchen, the failed attempts at dinner, and her frazzled husband. She couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “Oh, Five, what happened?”
Five rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed. “I wanted to cook you a nice dinner, but it turns out saving the world is easier than making pasta.”
Y/N walked over and kissed him on the cheek. “It’s the thought that counts. Thank you for trying. It means a lot.”
Five smiled, relieved that she wasn’t upset. “How about we order takeout and call it a night?”
Y/N nodded, still chuckling. “That sounds perfect. We can even eat it by candlelight.”
As they waited for the delivery, Five and Y/N cleaned up the kitchen together, turning the mishap into a fun, shared experience. They ended up sitting on the floor, eating pizza by candlelight and laughing about Five’s culinary catastrophe.
“I guess I should stick to what I’m good at,” Five said, taking a bite of his slice.
Y/N shook her head, smiling fondly at him. “You’re good at a lot of things, Five. But tonight, you’ve proven that you’re also good at making me feel loved. And that’s what really matters.”
Five pulled her close, grateful for her understanding. “I love you, Y/N. Even if I’m a terrible cook.”
Y/N kissed him softly. “I love you too, Five. And for the record, I think you’d make a great chef with a little practice.”
Five laughed, holding her tighter. “Maybe. But for now, I’m just happy to be with you.”
The night might not have gone as planned, but it ended up being perfect in its own way. Five and Y/N realized that sometimes, the best memories are made when things go hilariously wrong.
#five hargreeves imagines#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves x you#number five imagine#number five x reader#the umbrella academy#number five#number five one shot
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WE BOTH BE SIMPS FOR SKY ✨ THE PRECIOUS BEAN <33333 He has my entire heart, I love him smmm
But also now, got me sad for Sky cause poor baby deserves to get the experience of self expression through tattoos </3 which I think would work especially well in, say, self aware au, cause I would get to take him to get his first tattoo <33333 paid about $900-1K for all three sessions for my entire sleeve, I will gladly pay whatever for anything he wants done <333 especially if he wants a colored tattoo <3333
But also I’d love to know more of your thoughts on the whole Human vs Hylian thing, what are some key differences between hylians and humans that you haven’t had the opportunity to bring up yet? Doesn’t even have to be key differences, I’d just love to learn more on what your thoughts are <3
~🍀 anon
YEAHHHH SIMPS FOR THE BEST BOYYYY <333
I think sky would actually really want to get a tattoo after learning how they're pretty common for humans (he'd also want to either get one to match one of yours or a new matching set with you <3) but I think he'd want it to have an important meaning - his first one (only ones with self aware sky) has something to do with you, say your favourite flower or something that reminds him of you I also think he'd get something symbolic of crimson (also that price range for a sleeve sounds like a steal from the prices near me ong)
as for other headcanons about humans/hylians? One thing that I've been thinking about but haven't brought up is spice tolerances, and how Hylian spice tolerance is utterly abysmal compared to humans
remember this scene with the goron spice being used as a threat? I think that goron spice is about on par with a mild curry/chili powder.. Wild - They're using something that for most won't really register as spicy to punish the chain for the whole thing with the vai outfit.
Sky probably has a pretty low spice tolerance too but his is more because he's never had anything remotely spicy in his life, he could grow to have more of a tolerance whereas wild has had his body changed a lot by the sheika juice so I think certain tolerances of his got bumped up by a lot too - cal would want to eat it and struggle through but wild just eats it like no ones business In general I think that hylians just have a worse track record with anything you'd eat caffeine, poisons, alcohol, spice and even mint can make them struggle sometimes (Do NOT give wind an energy drink so help you)
I also think that hylians have a pretty weak immune system compared to humans, however it's also rarer for a hylian to get sick than it is for a human to cause of ✨magic✨ if any of the chain were to catch just the common cold from you or sky it will take them OUT, for humans the symptoms are just a runny nose, sore throat, cough and a fever for the hylians all of those things are dialled to one hundred - you get a sniffle? Time can't breathe. sky has a mild cough that he's trying to milk to get you to give him hugs? Warriors sounds like he's hacking up a lung and is that blood he just coughed up!!??
I also think hylians are unable to knowingly lie, like white lies are possible and if they fully believe what they're saying is true then they can. But an outright malicious lie or something like the turncoats? It isn't possible without dark and/or potent magic affecting them in some way. (or by having a human spirit instead of a hylian one >:3c) this also means that most hylians cannot use sarcasm, or at least not very well do with that what you will <3
#I think most of the links are capable of sarcasm btw#it just isn't common#legend gets assumed to be serious a lot of the time#because hylians just DON'T GET SARCASM#moss✦answers#🍀 anon#linked universe x reader#yandere linked universe x reader#yandere linked universe#link x reader#linked universe#yandere link#sky x reader#lu sky#lu sky x reader#humans v hylians#ough need a prper tag for thatttt#humans are space oddities#humans are space orcs#human sky
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bison is literally blushing, giggling, kicking his feet at the thought of kant taking him out 😭😭 help, i love him so much already
#i can't do this guys. this is worse than any spicy scene they could possibly film#the heart killers#thk#kantbison
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Adventure Time and Fionna and Cake Theory: The Victimhood of Simon + How the Series Might End
Prerequisite Watching for this Theory:
Adventure Time: Temple of Mars, Betty, Come Along With Me, Broke His Crown, I Remember You, Holly Jolly Secrets Part II
Gonna start this loaded theory with a bit of a hot take. I’ve never liked how Simon and Betty’s stories concluded in Come Along With Me.
For Simon, I’ve always had trouble considering Simon and the Ice King as the same person. Holly Jolly Secrets and I Remember You, the pinnacle of depicting the dichotomy of the two characters is built on us seeing Simon as suffering irreversible memory loss and how his loved ones can grow to accept that. The context is most apt when viewed as a metaphor for dementia, Alzheimer’s, or simply old age.
The scenes in which Ice King reacts so superfluously to characters desperately wishing for his old self to return are striking because of the cruel finality of his condition. Alternatively, the ones in which his loved ones hang around with him despite his condition are sweet in their own right.
One of my favorite Ice King scenes is in Broke His Crown where Marceline invites her girlfriend to meet her surrogate father.
Bubblegum: What's this?
Ice King: It's a present, to bribe you for coming over!
Marceline: You don't have to bribe us silly, we're here because we WANT to hang out with you.
Ice King: No one has ever said that to me before.
*snatches present*
Ice King: You didn't say no takebacks.
There was a real poignancy to depicting an old man with memory-loss slowly having people come to accept him and realize that he’s still a swell guy to hang around. It may be depressing to see this good person who was once so unconditionally caring into a buffoon who could forget your name so easily and turn on you in the flip of a coin.
But even he deserved love from others. And in time, as a result of that love, he did improve.
Which is why, even in Fionna and Cake, I find myself still disturbed seeing Simon in his normal state and Ice King completely erased from Ooo. It kills me that Betty and in extension, the show itself could not accept Ice King as he was and felt that his best course was to undo it all.
All of his experiences for 1000+ years all of a sudden no longer matter, and the acceptance of his peers no longer mattered as well. He's just back to who he used to be in a world where everything he's known is gone.
Happily ever after
Even worse, however, is remembering the wish that allowed Simon to be cured. The person who sacrificed her individuality to get that good person back, because she couldn’t accept reality as it was.
And I’m going to put a second hot take. A spicy one. Simon needs to take the fault in Betty's fate and Fionna and Cake (the show not the characters) seems aware of this.
Throughout Adventure Time, Simon Petrikov was never developed as a character. As far as the audience and the characters within Adventure Time knew, the only traits about Simon that mattered were: that he was intelligent, he was a kind man, and he loved Betty.
This wouldn’t really be a compelling character on its own, but when juxtaposed with the Ice King it’s a tragedy that he lost these traits. The compelling part of Simon was his victimhood to the ice crown and not really him as a person.
It’s why Obsidian’s version of Simon feels somewhat empty, he’s back to his intelligent, kind self but there’s no real hints to how he’s mentally adjusting other than that brief glimpse in Ice King’s robes again.
And he looks really weird in this special too. Color me surprised when Simon Petrikov reads out the problems I've had for years about his ending while also making Simon into his own person. In many ways it just completely redos what we see of him in Obsidian.
He's still a kind man but even he can't handle being so maladjusted to a world so beyond his time. He's still intelligent but his passions aren't reciprocated, and that seems to have always been the case even in the past. Rather than a guy who doesn't take shit from guys like Marceline's ex or a first responder to his daughter's problems, he's a normal guy unable to handle the threats of Ooo's world even after 12 years of living in it. Rather than singing to large communities in bliss, he's a lonely alcoholic who can't even relate to his fellow humans anymore. He loves his adopted daughter but there are even some days he can't muster the courage to be honest with her. And most importantly, he doesn't seem to know how to live beyond his curse or his loneliness.
His mutual obsession with Betty is the only character trait of his that's ever had some distinct flaw and with this new show, the writers must have finally found a way to tackle the subject further. Betty is ultimately a greater victim than Simon. She ends up in a far worse fate than Simon has ever been in. Perhaps more disturbingly, she willingly chose to strip herself of her individuality.
Fionna and Cake brings a contradiction to light about Simon and Betty’s seemingly perfect relationship. Simon and Betty's love is real and they do make each other happy. But there does exist a co-dependency that has worsened throughout the series as a result of their insecurity of letting a bad memory conclude their relationship. Betty's patterns are pretty clear throughout her tenure as Magic Woman but not too much with Simon. Not until now.
In Jerry, Simon stops Betty from pursuing her dreams because he didn’t want her goodbye to be his last memory with her.
In Betty, Simon rewrites history and inadvertently summons her to Ooo because he didn’t want Betty’s look of contempt to be his last memory of her.
And through all of Fionna and Cake, Simon has turned into a suicidal man willing to resummon GOLBetty regardless of the reasons she can’t see him again. All because he didn’t want her sacrifice to be his last memory of her. Despite the fact that Betty’s final wish was to keep Simon safe.
There's also this uneven power dynamic between the two. Simon was far more accomplished as a professor with PhDs even if no one took him seriously. Betty was just a student offering some help, knowing she wouldn't take any credit for helping.
I’ll preface that Betty is a consenting adult in the relationship and made many self-determined rash choices that Simon would never approve of with full context. We’ve enough scenes to show that Simon actively refuses Betty’s help if it means endangering her.
However, Simon’s perception of Betty and his own inadequacy did influence her personality for the worse. Fionna questions Simon on two occasions about how strange it was for “someone she just met to drop everything to go with you”. Even within the flashbacks Betty verbally describes her internal conflict between her individuality vs. her infatuation with Simon and the guy never picks up on it.
Whether he’s aware of it or not, Simon always ends up becoming the center of attention during Betty’s greatest life-changing events because he’s always suffering in some way. And sadly in-character, Betty always prioritizes him first because of how sorry she feels for him.
Simon: Just hold my hand to your face, this will be my… last sensation.
Betty: Don’t be a wimp, Simon!
I don’t want to be too hard on Simon, his suffering is cosmologically depressing. An undeniable tragedy that no one deserves to be alone on. It would be unfair to say he’s being dramatic about something most if not any human would ever go through. He’s not a leech for desiring help, especially from his significant other.
But I do think it’s important to point out that he does have a major flaw in not reflecting on the consequences of Betty’s choices.
Fionna: Damn, that’s romantic. So, you got on the bus with her?
Simon: Yup. Uh what? No. No. Why would I-
This is the reason this post exists. This is the show explicitly telling us that Simon has never really thought about what Betty lost because he thinks his love was greater than the passion Betty once had.
Let's go back to Betty once again for what is honestly the most justifiable takedown you could make of Simon's character prior to the miniseries.
As stated earlier, Simon opens a portal to ask for Betty's forgiveness with a few seconds on the clock. And in that time, he essentially just unloads a giant drama bomb, trauma dump of his suffering leading Betty to ask what she can even do without him. And if the plan went as it was, Simon would've just left her a hundred questions that she'd never have answered for the rest of her life.
Simon: Just know that I love you and I forgive you for leaving me. Author's Note: I dunno, isn't there something a bit off about how he worded this?
Now Simon didn't ask for Betty to jump into the portal, but he certainly was asking for it subconsciously. How else would he have expected a person who loves him dearly to act after this?
Taking any measures necessary and finding a way back together obviously. That's what he's doing too!
And reiterating again, this is the reason why Betty goes on her ego-suicidal quest. This is Simon's greatest mistake, his greatest moral failing as a person and he doesn't seem aware of this.
He’s not wrong that Betty lived happily with him. In spite of losing her dreams, Betty and Simon did love each other unconditionally. But he’s missing the bigger picture about how he could’ve been self-centered in deciding Betty’s fate for himself.
And maybe to stretch somewhat, I think even the quest to become Ice King again is somewhat motivated by his inability to live as anything more than a victim. Some of it is because the citizens of Ooo were being a bit inconsiderate about how much they liked Ice King yes, but Simon should be perfectly aware that Marceline, Betty, and now Fionna would be extremely concerned about him for doing this. Yet, he doesn’t really consider their feelings too much on the matter. He’s too used to the suffering.
Please have one scene with Marceline, I'd be sad if we don't get to see at least one.
This leads me to how I believe Fionna and Cake may rewrite Simon’s ending.
The key is in the episode Temple of Mars.
Upon rewatching the episode, I’m convinced that the Adventure Time cast had a greater plan with the Betty and Simon arc that just never came to be due to production constraints. A lot of Betty’s history and the deconstruction of her relationship with Simon in Jerry are surprisingly details that have already been told.
I thought it was an animation error that Betty’s glasses were different in Jerry but it turns out the continuity director is just that good.
The trip in six months, Simon stopping her, and the realization that Simon superseded her identity. Seeking independence from Simon is the lesson that Normal Man was trying failed to teach her.
Betty: I’ve spent so much time dedicated on Simon that I’m not even sure if there’s any “me” left anymore.
But the most telling detail is how Betty passes Normal Man’s test.
Finn: Even if you are a lost cause, she is not!
Betty: No, Finn’s right. You’ll thank me for this later past Betty.
In an alternate pocket reality, she changes her trip to the day before, preventing Simon from stopping her. And I think Simon will have to change fate once again to do the same.
If Simon comes to realize that he was the one who set Betty to her terrible fate, that all this time his rose-colored lens of their relationship had been detrimental then he could give her identity back. But it can’t be as simple as changing the moment Betty turns into GOLB or Magic Woman or even bringing her through the portal in Betty.
He needs to let Betty go on the bus. Alone.
It’s the only way for Betty to have her life back. If not for his Betty, maybe at least to save one in the multiverse doomed to the same fate.
They both need to cherish their time on the Enchiridion trip back when it wasn’t too late for Betty to go on the trip. Back when they were both equals and not tied to Simon’s needs.
Jerry is absolutely setting up something big with Simon and Betty’s relationship for next week and now that we’re going to the GOLB dimension, we’ll see how he remembers these moments again.
Personally, as someone who has been skeptical about Simon's peace for years, Fionna and Cake's second episode was like a sigh of relief. Simon hasn't found his ending yet, and my hope is that this epilogue will help me see the man happy without having to relive Betty's sacrifice for the rest of his life. Just like the rest of Adventure Time, it'll have to end with him cherishing the time he had with Betty regardless of the inevitability of losing that relationship.
PS. Isn’t quite strange that at one point in time, Simon sought after magic objects that ostracized him from the normal world and now, he lives in a house full of 1980s-1990s objects that ostracized him from the magical world? Maybe he was never really satisfied with where he was in the present.
PSS. I really wanted to write something on Fionna for the Ep 3-6 releases, and I still have the idea, but I couldn’t make it coherent due to how much my brain overthinks everything to the point of cognitive collapse. If there’s enough interest, I’ll go back to write it again.
#fionna and cake#adventure time#simon petrikov#betty grof#fionna and cake spoilers#adventure time spoilers#animation#art#hbo max#fionna campbell#theories#character analysis#discussion#petrigrof#golbetty#simon and betty
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I am so close and yet so far from being done with The Chicken Salad War, argh. I have the entire rest of the book plotted out, and there's a little less than a quarter of it remaining to write, I think, but it's going to be an intense quarter. And then the rewrites will be a little more extensive than usual because I've basically been skipping scenes I don't want to write, which isn't a lot but isn't zero.
Anyway, have a scene where Ylias and Simon realize that attempting to make an edible sauce using davzda and harissa paste may be an error.
It took a few more minutes of scraping and blending, but in the end the warm, fragrant harissa paste was scooped out and into a bowl, and they both examined it.
"Now…davzda," he said, sounding excited and doomed at once, like someone about to attend an execution but fortunately not theirs.
"I'm wondering, should we just try to loosen it up with the raw hooch?" she asked. "Or actually make some shakshouka and stir the davzda into that?"
"I think to start, we make a sauce -- some beautiful paste, some davzda, and some broth," he said. "I will reserve some for further experiments."
She carried the bowl to the stove and set out a saucepan, spooning some of the harissa into it and then shuffling aside so he could add broth; he whisked them together cold, then added a careful pour of davzda from the ubiquitous gray-green bottle. The smell that rose from the mixture was…herbal, but it began to fade into something more pleasantly spicy as it heated.
[insert brief hold music here for a part of the scene I don't want to spoil yet]
"Now, I must begin prep for dinner, I think, while this simmers."
"Can I help?" she asked.
He blinked at her. "Oh -- it is my job and I am too accustomed to it. But..." he added, considering, "You won't go yet, will you? You must taste this sauce. And I have been accustomed to company, but not so much with Eddie now looking after the little ones."
"Can I criticize your technique?" she asked, grinning, and he laughed.
"Only in French, and I will not be gracious about it," he replied.
"I'd worry if you were," she said, stationing herself at the stove to mind the sauce while he gathered ingredients. By the time he was done assembling the meatballs, the sauce had thickened and darkened to an almost mahogany color. Simon procured some twist-bread and fetched crudite from the fridge ("I keep carrot sticks for Joan, and His Majesty will enjoy the leftover cucumber at dinner,") and she spooned some sauce out into a bowl, dipping the bread while he tried a piece of carrot.
At the first taste, he looked thoughtful, chewing the carrot and harissa sauce with a blank look on his face. Ylias, taken off-guard, coughed and nearly choked when she finally tasted it.
"Oh, no, oh dear," she said, taking a long sip of water while he grinned, still chewing. "It's...so earthy."
"The flavoring in the alcohol, I think," he said, finally swallowing and rinsing his own mouth out. "The oil in the chilis brings out the mushroom in the davzda."
"Ugh, but the worst part," she managed. "That's awful. It's not even bitter, really, not like davzda is, it's just...almost cloying."
"Yes, but..." he considered, eyes narrowed. "There is good flavor there too, just not in balance."
She tapped her tongue against the roof of her mouth, chasing stray hints of the sauce, then braced herself and took another, smaller taste.
"You can almost get to it," she agreed, considering more deeply. "I never bother with mushrooms in shakshouka because they're just texture at that point, the flavor's too delicate for the spice. But maybe...if you could just cut the flavor a bit."
"Less davzda?"
"Defeats the point, but maybe. Or..." she considered. "There's a lot of tomato coming through, but it's the acid. Do you think a sweet note would help, or would that just make it worse?"
"Make this worse?" he asked, amused, but he was already reaching for a jar on the counter. "The family likes muscovado in their coffee," he said, using the little spoon in the jar to lift out a mound of golden-brown sugar. "Yes?"
She gestured for him to give it a try; he added a few spoonfuls and then stirred it with the whisk again. The sauce darkened further, but when they tasted it this time, the horror had receded.
"Oh, that's...actually nice," she said. "Salty-sweet. You could even use molasses -- or a sherry if you wanted."
"Yes. Very good," he agreed, and then he leaned in and kissed her.
It surprised them both, she could tell; she didn't pull away -- he was a very good kisser -- but when he leaned back, he looked startled by what he'd done.
"Ah, perhaps inappropriate," he said. "Only -- I like this very much, this experimentation. With the sauce," he added in a stammer. "Although, of course -- "
She held up a finger and he fell silent, looking relieved.
"I like it too," she said. "A little warning next time, maybe."
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Nightmare Comfort
Part 2
Okay ya'll, it's been a very long time since I've found a character that has made me want to write like this. Once I got to romancing Gale in the second act I was hooked. I've read so many good stories lately that I decided last night to write and see what comes out. Please keep in mind I am still only in act 2 of the game so I don't know the ending. So some details may not be accurate.
I will warn you, it's a little depressing to start but apparently it's something my brain needed to get out. I would probably label this as sad, mixed with fluff and if enough people want me to continue, there could be a spicy second part.
To set the scene, picture this: It's been a few months since you returned to Waterdeep with Gale after the end of your travels. Ever since slowing down your mind has been racked with guilt, feeling like you don't deserve comfort you start to push Gale away.
Please be kind:
First person
Gale/Reader
Word Count: 2332
Nightmares had, in some way, always had a hold on you. But once returning to Waterdeep with Gale, they seemed to have gotten worse. It started with small, repeated dreams of the battles you fought together that pushed you to do things that normally would have been out of character for you. Haunted by lives you couldn’t save, the people you had failed. They would slip into your dreams every few weeks, reminding you of where you had been. It didn’t matter how many you did save, in your mind, only the ones you failed mattered deep down.
When you would wake, for just a moment, you would think you were back there, in the heat of battle. But as your body regained its senses and you’d open your eyes, you’d see Gale’s slumbering face, listening to his soft breathing. Just having him so close would bring you back to reality. It made you glad that you didn’t move much in your sleep. The shame you felt over this, you couldn’t tell him. You knew he’d listen but you also knew he would want to fix it but in your own way, you felt like this is what you deserved. So you let the dead haunt your dreams, doing your best to hide your growing exhaustion.
As the nightmares became more frequent, it felt almost like it was becoming a ritual to wake up and just take in Gale’s sleeping face. You would spend hours just gazing and scanning every wrinkle, dimple, freckle and scar he had. The thought crossed your mind that if you did this long enough you could memorize the slope of his nose and the curve of his cupid's bow and maybe, just maybe, the picture perfect image of him in your mind could chase away the bad dreams.
Tonight's nightmare was especially bad. You stood there, the day you thought you had lost Gale forever. The moments replaying in your mind as you watched him die, shedding tears over his body because you weren’t sure he could be brought back. While your party had found a way to revive the love of your life, the feelings of mourning were still all too real. When you awoke, you felt tears on your face and when you opened your eyes the comfort you sought wasn’t there.
Panic arose in your chest as you sat up quickly to see where he could be. Your eyes scanned the room, coming upon the open doors that lead to the balcony. There, in the pale moonlight, you could see Gale standing shirtless, leaning slightly against the door frame, his back to you as he gazed upon the stars. While you couldn’t see his face, his body language and the energy you felt from him, you could tell something was wrong.
Quietly you removed the blanket that covered you on the bed you shared. The air was warm on this night so you had gone to sleep with nothing on other than one of Gale’s tunics. Slowly you raised yourself off the bed, walking slowly up behind the tall striking man in front of you. As you reached him you wrapped your arms around his waist, your hands gently placed on his belly, leaning forward just enough to rest your forehead against his back. In automatic fashion Gale’s big hands rested over yours as a long sigh left his lungs.
You could feel the guilt in your throat coming up like bile, wanting nothing more than to tell him everything you had been feeling but you still couldn’t bear drowning him in your issues. You need to be strong, perfect, beautiful, all the things he tells you you are every day. If you couldn’t do that then you failed him too. So instead you pressed close into his back, tightening your arms around him, worried that at any minute he could just drift away into a cloud of smoke.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” He asked, ever so softly. So softly that you almost missed it but you had felt that familiar rumble from his chest as he spoke.
“You knew?” You asked. A lump in your throat forming as you try not to speak louder than a whisper. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I wanted you to come to me… I… I knew something was wrong but I could tell that you wanted to handle it yourself so I didn’t push. You are beautiful beyond comparison but you are also stubborn and bullheaded. But the longer this has gone on My Love, your nightmares aren’t as silent as you think they are. It breaks my heart to see you struggling like this and I can’t just sit back and wait anymore,” He said, turning around to face you, still holding your hands. “I’m starting to think you don’t trust me.”
Gently he raises each of your hands to his lips, leaving small kisses along your knuckles before placing each one so you're holding him around his neck.. The hair on his face tickling your skin almost made you smile but you found yourself still looking at the floor, your heart at your feet. With another sigh, Gale laid one hand against your waist, keeping you close to him. The other carefully raises your head by the chin to look at him. Gale’s eyes look longingly into yours as his hand cups your cheek.
For a moment you relax, tilting your face into his palm, feeling your body relax for just a moment. The heat from his hand felt comforting against your skin.
“I’m sorry, none of this is your fault. You have done so much for me. I didn’t want to add another burden to your plate.” you say, lip quivering. “I must look pathetic… I am pathetic.”
You watch as Gale’s brows furrow and the corners of his mouth point downward. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip to calm its quiver. His eyes search yours for understanding, recognition. “Where is the strong brave Druid that I fell in love with on the road?”
You can feel your gut clench, you didn’t have an answer, he was right, this wasn’t you. “I’m afraid I lost her,” You replied, your fingers twisting curls with the hair on the back of his neck. You were sure Gale was going to end this, ask you to leave because you weren’t the girl he fell in love with anymore. Tears flowed freely down your cheeks now. It felt like a dam had burst behind your eyes.
At the sight of this, Gale wrapped both arms around you, with one smooth motion he lifted you into his arms, carrying you back to bed. You were sure he would just lay you there and walk away but instead he sat on the bed, resting you carefully on his lap, cradling you in his arms.
“Every day you tell me how you love me, you reassure me about the choices we’ve made. Why won’t you let me do the same for you?” He asked softly. “You can’t keep bottling up all these feelings. I don’t understand why you insist on suffering in silence but if that’s what you need then…. I want you to cry for as long as you need to and I will hold you for as long as you need me to.”
With his words, suddenly a flood of emotion burst forth. Pressed against his chest you let yourself sob, groan, and scream. Muffling yourself against his skin, you let out the rage and anxiety that pent up for the last few weeks. He was right, you shouldn’t have bottled this up, the heat in your chest made you feel like you were in the throat of a dragon.
It took a few minutes but you soon realized Gale was whispering in your ear. Straining your ears to hear the soft words he spoke. Between your sobs and frustration, you could hear him say, “I love you.” “my heart has never ached more for anyone than it does for you.” “I will be here for you always, you just have to let me in.”
For the first time you could admit the truth. “I’m scared,” You said, finally regaining control of your breathing.
“What are you scared of, my sweet?” Gale asked, now rocking the two of you back and forth.
“Of everything.” You said, taking deep long breaths now as you come down from the all too embarrassing tear filled journey you just took in Gales arms. Moving ever so slightly you rest your head on his shoulder, wishing your nose wasn’t now stuffy so you could breathe in his scent.
Softly you let your lips kiss the soft skin of his neck, admitting to yourself that this really had gone for too long. So, you started to let it all go.. There in Gale’s arms you tell him your whole story. You admit that before the whole venture started you had been alone for quite some time. It has made you view sharing things with others a burden because who could you trust when you were mostly alone. You spoke about those you failed and how they haunt your dreams but the biggest fear of all, was the fear of waking up and realizing Gale had only been a dream the whole time.
At the mention of himself, Gale chuckled. “You aren’t going to lose me. The road we traveled was a rough one, and even with everything I know, I would trade all the stars in the sky, all the air in my lungs, even all my books just to spend every last moment I live with you.”
Your eyebrows raise as he mentions his book collection. “You’re really serious,” you said, lifting your head to look at him with surprise. You search his face for anything other than the serious look he now wore.
“I don’t joke about my book collection sweetheart,” he said, gently placing a kiss on your forehead.
“I don’t deserve you, I feel like all I’ve done is trick you.”
This time Gale placed his lips against yours. Slow and soft, his hand moving to rest on the back of your head, his fingers running through your hair. You’ve known Gale was one who showed his love more than he spoke about it, but he was good at both nonetheless. You could feel the pure emotion he put forth in his kiss. He took his time kissing each section of your face, wanting you to feel as loved and precious as he viewed you. When his lips found yours again it was like your heart was suddenly being filled with more love for this wizard than you ever thought possible.
Once your lungs ached for air you finally pulled away from his lips. Gathering your composer you finally explained the rest of your insecurities, you finally explained your fear of losing him and how it felt to feel your heart break into a million tiny pieces from the uncertainties of his survival that day.
“Every day I get with you feels like a dream… and when I sleep… the nightmares are my reality. Everything has just felt too good to be true. I’m sorry Gale… I know this side of me isn’t what you signed up for,” you tell him, your eyes meeting his.
Gale leaned forward, kissing your forehead for a long moment before pulling back and resting his own against yours so you could share each other's breath. “My love, when I asked you to marry me, I meant it. There is no one in this world or in the heavens that I have loved so fully and who has made me feel like just being me is good enough. I want to stay beside you, no matter what life brings. Be that nightmares, blissful dreams, fights, love making, every moment I get to spend with you makes me feel like the luckiest man alive.”
“I have never loved someone the way I love you,” you say in return. “That’s why it scares me so much. Now that all of that is behind us, it’s like my mind won’t just let me be. We’ve been through so much, we’ve shared so much. What if I ruin this?”
“I won’t let you,” he said simply. “I will just have to remind you how loved and cherished you are.” With that Gale tilted his head and caught your lips in another kiss. Gentle and sweet. You could feel love move through him, making your heart skip. “I have an idea that might help… maybe not right away but with time I think we can change the way your mind has tried to trick you.”
“I’d do just about anything to make this end and get to just live… here with you,” You say softly.
Sitting up straighter Gale smiled down at you in his arms. “Good, I love you… we’ll do this in two parts. First, every morning, I want you to tell me five things that make you happy. It doesn’t matter what they are or why they make you happy. You just need to remind yourself that there are plenty of things that bring you joy. Then second, I want you to tell me something we could do together that would make you feel better.”
Your cheeks flush from the first thought that crossed your mind when he said this. A small smile creeping onto your lips as your teeth start to lightly chew on your bottom lip. “Like making love under the stars like we used to?” You mumbled. Sex felt like it should be the farthest thing from your mind, but the stolen nights the two of you shared on the road were some of the most comforting and happy moments you remember having in your whole life.
With a smirk and a chuckle Gale nodded. “That my love, I can provide.”
#fanfiction#bg3#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#bg3 gale#bg3 fanfiction#wizardboy#manwife#gale fluff#squishy wizard#gale bg3 x reader#gale romance
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“Wintered”
Jacob Black x Fem-reader
Soulmates
Fluff, slight NSFW, mostly fluff 😊
A/N: This is similar to my previous Jacob x reader post. My head cannon is where the reader is part of the pack and imprints on Jacob, but he doesn’t immediately imprint on her back. Anyway, this scene takes place before the confrontation with the Voltori in BD pt 2. Jacob has finally imprinted on Y/N after you have a near death experience. (I refuse to accept the storyline of Jacob imprinting on Ratatouille 🤢) and the two of you station yourself out in the clearing to scout the area before the rest of the Cullens and wolves arrive. A blizzard comes in and forces the two of you to make camp within the woods. This allows for some fluffy conversations to occur. 😉
Might make a NSFW scene as a part 2 to this story. 🤷🏻♀️ Jacob Black has my heart so expect one 😉
Edit: I did make part 2 😬 here’s a link. Okay byeee
Part 2
Enjoy 🤘🏼
You had been careful. Maybe too careful these past few weeks after the birth of Bella’s daughter. It had been a chaotic period of your life. You had chosen to break apart from the pack in order to follow Jacob. Your new Alpha. Your imprint. Your soulmate. Even from the beginning it was never really a choice, but still, you were proud of his decision to leave.
He was fighting to save Bella, as he always did. And even though it broke your heart to see the man you loved more than anything in the world fight so hard for someone who would never love him like he deserved, you stood by his side through it all. Even when the fight became deadly.
It had been a risky plan. But the Cullens needed to feed. Distract the pack. Protect the Cullens. That was the plan that fateful night. But it turned sour real quick. Bella had gone into labor, and Sam’s pack had launched an attack on the remaining Cullens. Paul had the small vampire, Alice, in between his giant wolf mouth. She had been weak and hungry, and even her immortal strength began to give way. You couldn’t let her die. Despite knowing Paul’s size and strength over powered you every time you trained with the pack, you didn’t care.
You had launched yourself at Paul, your claws and teeth slashing at his neck, forcing him to release Alice, allowing her to escape. Paul was enraged with you then. You could feel the rumble of his growl deep in his chest as he set his sights on you and pounced.
“Y/N!” Jacob’s voice called, snapping you out of the memory.
The wind was whipping all around you. Flurries of snow bit at your face and clung in your hair. The sun was beginning to set and the landscape was quickly turning dark. Jacob came up from behind you, his bare chest unfazed by the chill weather. You stood unbothered as well, the warmth of your wolf blood fought against the cold, especially after shifting. You turned to look at him, and as always your chest tugged at you to close the space between you. But you fought yourself and stood your ground.
“The weather is getting worse,” he nearly had to yell over the wind. You nodded. Alice had said this would happen. A winter vortex would come in and blanket the clearing with snow and ice. Then, after the sun returned, the Volturi would arrive.
“Should we head back?” You asked. It would take no time at all to head back to the Cullen house, but Edward had wanted eyes on the clearing to make sure there were no surprises.
Jacob shook his head and pulled over the backpack he had been carrying. “This storm shouldn’t last too long. Alice said it would be over by tomorrow morning.” He looked at you with a strange sparkle in his eyes. “I brought us a tent,” he continued, “I mean only- if you want to.” You arched your brow at him in amusement. You had never seen him trip over his words before, and lately he seemed to be doing that a lot around you.
“Yeah, okay. Let’s find somewhere out of this wind.” You reply.
The two of you found a nice spot within the trees, up against a large rock that blocked out a great deal of wind. You helped him set up the tent between the trees and found yourself glad to take refuge within. Jacob was close behind you, taking great care to zip up the tent, securing the two of you inside.
You sat across from him in silence for a moment. There seemed to be an electric charge buzzing between the two of you. It sent a strange sensation down your spine when you noticed how he looked at you. His lips parted slightly, as if he was going to speak, but to break the tension you finally reached over and yanked his pack away.
“What else are you hiding in here?” You teased.
Amusement warmed his face. He leaned back and crossed his arms and you searched his pack. “Oh you know, stakes, cloves of garlic, usual leech killing gear.”
You snorted. “Oh that’s what that smell was? The whole run over here I thought it was your breath.”
Jacob let out a laugh, a real genuine laugh. It had been a while, it had been months, since you heard that laugh of his. It warmed your heart to hear his laugh again. You pulled out the contents of his backpack, and found that he had packed the two of you an extra set of clothes, in case transforming caused any wardrobe issues. There was a handmade quilt that you pulled out and set aside. And a few granola bars and a few waters.
You tossed him a bar and a bottle and let yourself stretch out across the tent as you ate. The two of you chatted mindlessly a bit as you tried to ignore the growing tension that seemed to build within the tent. It was as if you could reach out and touch the electric waves that buzzed between you. Finally, you let yourself stretch out on the tent floor, using the quilt as a pillow. Jacob hesitated a moment before joining you on the floor, your bodies inches apart from each other as the wind picked up outside of the tent.
You turned on your side to face him, and were shocked to find him already facing you. His eyes seemed deep in thought as they scanned your face. You felt your face redden slightly at the intensity of his gaze.
“Jake?” You ask softly. His eyes snapped up to look at yours. “Hmm” was all he answered. You couldn’t help but smile at him. “Are you okay?” You ask with a small chuckle, “You’ve been acting—different ever since Ness was born.” At that Jacob’s smile wavered a bit but his eyes kept roaming your face.
“I’ve just been thinking,” he murmured, “ a lot of things have changed since then. It’s an— adjustment.” You expected that in some capacity. You were prepared to help Jacob once Bella became a vampire, to help distract him from the pain of that, but it never came. He seemed to almost welcome Bella into her immortal life, taking satisfaction in the fact of her still being alive in some capacity anyway. It had shocked you how— calm he was about it all.
“Does it hurt being around her?” You nearly whispered. Normally would wouldn’t have dared asked such a question, but his silence these past few weeks had been maddening. Confusion swept Jacob’s face for a moment before he realized what you meant. And then he chuckled.
“Around Bella? No. Not anymore. That’s— not the change I meant, although it has been an adjustment getting used to her new life. But that isn’t what I meant. ” He said. You scrunched you brows at him in confusion and then abruptly sat up. Jacob propped himself up on one arm to meet your gaze, his eyes searching your face to see what he had done.
“Then what do you mean, Jacob? Why else have you been acting so weird lately?” Anger tipped on your words, but you found yourself unable to restrain your emotions. Jacob waited for you to continue, his lips pressed together as if he was holding back.
“For weeks now you’ve been so calm, so careful… I thought you would be upset or angry or something! Leah and Seth won’t tell me anything, but I know they know something. Even Edward seems to know what it is but for some reason you refuse to tell me? Jacob, you’ve just been so quiet around me lately and I can’t understand why. What changed? Did I do something to you?” At the last question you felt tears fall down your eyes.
Without hesitation, Jacob’s hand we on either side of your face, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, “I was afraid that if I admitted the truth— that if I told you—“
“Told me what, Jacob?” You pleaded. You grabbed his hands that held your face.
“I—“ he struggled to say, “I imprinted.”
Suddenly you were back in that moment. You felt Paul’s teeth clamp down on your neck, the sharp crunching pain of his canines crunching down on bone. That pain was excruciating. But even then, the pain and shock allowed you to pass out from it. Death was a numbing relief to the pain, or so you imagined. But this pain had no relief. You dropped your hands from Jacob’s and felt your heart collapse.
“On who?” Your voice cracked. “When did you—?”
Jacob froze at your reaction. You could no longer hide the pain that radiated from your chest. You felt as if you might vomit. Would it be better to know? Who she was, how he now felt for her? His world now revolved around her. How would you survive?
“I need to leave,” you choke out. You tried to fumble with the zipper but Jacob’s strong hands gripped you and pulled you away.
“Y/N, please,” he voice was oddly strained, “let me explain—“
“I cant!” You cried, “i can’t do this anymore Jacob! I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay, when my heart is breaking! I can’t keep pretending that I don’t love you. That you are everything to me, my purpose, my entire existence! Please, let me go!”
The words you promised to never say were out. Your body heaved in violent sobs as the weight of your soul poured out before him. You expected him to release you. To be horrified by what you just said. But instead you felt him move closer, the space between you disappeared as he wrapped his large arms around you tightly and securely.
“Oh Y/N,” he murmured against your hair, “oh sweetheart, my love, my everything, no, no, no, no.” You stilled under him, his words piercing your body with every syllable. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why didn’t you tell me you imprinted?”
You pushed yourself away from him far enough to look into his eyes. You searched his wildly waiting for him to explain. He ran a hand through your hair, pushing it away from your face. “That night, when Paul nearly killed you—“ his voice cracked at the memory, “ I thought I would lose you. Something snapped in me that night, something deep and primal in my blood. Suddenly, you were the only pull I felt. Everything in my heart, body, and soul was fighting for you.”
You weren’t sure if you were breathing then. Tears fell down your face as Jacob continued. “I knew it was the imprint, I felt it deep within my bones. When you finally woke up, I waited to see if maybe the bond had snapped into place for you too… but nothing had seemed to change for you. I wasn’t sure how to tell you— so I waited and kept my distance. I didn’t want to force this on you, or scare you away. But I never thought…” he trailed off. His thumb traced down the side of your face, stopping at the edge of your bottom lip.
“How long have you known?” He asked.
“I’ve always known,” you whispered.
And with those words alone, any restraint, and uncertainty Jacob had had vanished. In an instant his hand cupped the back of your neck as he pulled you closer and kissed you. The contact of him made stars dance in your vision, but immediately you found yourself melting against him. You threw your arms around his neck and anchored yourself to him. He growled against your mouth in reaction, and deepened the kiss.
His tongue explored your mouth, intoxicating your senses with the taste of him. Your fingers knotted up in his hair, and you pulled his head closer to yours, needing more of him in your reach. He reacted to your touch, a soft groan escaping his lips as he nipped your bottom lip. His free hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer. You gave out a small yelp in surprise and you couldn’t help but giggle.
Jacob moved his lips from your mouth to trace the line of your jaw, peppering you with kisses as he made his way down your neck. “Whats so funny?” He murmured against the nape of your neck. You tilted your head back to give him easier access, the warmth of his lips were inviting. “You have no idea—“ you said breathlessly, “how long I’ve wanted you to kiss me.”
You felt him smile against your neck, his teeth grazing you as he pulled away slowly. He looked at you, desire burning in his dark eyes, his face oddly flushed with red and warmth. “I’m sorry for not realizing sooner. I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting. All this time,” he said, both of his arms slipped around you, pulling you as close to him as possible, “I thought it was friendship that made our relationship so strong.” He said the word as a curse. As if he realized now that what the two of you had was more than that. More than any word used to describe this feeling.
“I thought it was a different kind of love you felt for me,” he admitted, “I never imagined it was— this.” You slid one hand down from his neck and traced the line of his jaw. Gentle touches you had always restrained yourself from. He leaned into you, shivering at each touch. A smile spread across your face as you held your heart in your hands. All of the heartache these past few years had suddenly vanished from your mind. None of it mattered. Not anymore. “I suppose you have time to make up for then,” you challenged.
Jacob’s eyes bore into you, waiting for you to make the next move. He would bend to you, only you. Your thumb traced the outline of his lips. Two words. One command of him. The one thing you had sought after since you met him. A whisper within the wind.
“Kiss me.”
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'What If It's All A RomCom?' - A Ted Nivison X Reader
{{-Ooooh we gettin' juicy in Chapter 5 folks, next one might be a lil' spicy ;^))). If you wanna catch up on how we got here, I'd recommend starting at Chapter 1 and go from there! All old *AND* new Chapters will always be linked at the very bottom ♡ Thanks so much for bein' here and enjoy! :^) -}}
//General Warnings: 18+ fic, Reader implied to be afab and under 5'5.
Chapter Warnings: Heavy language, implied sexual thoughts ig
Word count: 4.6k\\
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@k-k0129 & @callsign-scully
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Chapter 5: You're Going To Be Trouble.
The rest of that day on set was spent filming a few more scenes with the extras. I found it a little strange at this point that we had filmed almost nothing with some of the main characters. Turns out, some of the extras could only be up here for the first week, so Tanner was getting all of the filming done with them first. It was fine by me, I needed a little break after that first kiss anyway.
God, that first kiss.
We did too much, I know we did, but...I can't say I regret it. Not at all. Ted was a better kisser than I was expecting. Suddenly, I find myself wanting to be one of 'the homies' he claims to smooch up so much. Truthfully, I know I shouldn't be feeling this way. Joseph seems to be cool with the idea of Ted and I fooling around now, but maybe he wasn't wrong before. I couldn't relax for the kissing scene until we were alone, and then I practically jumped on him. Tanner admitted it wasn't what he was expecting, but he liked it anyhow. Still, these feelings are starting to affect my job. What even are these feelings?
They could just be coming from the film, right? What if this isn't real? Or even worse, what if it IS real? Ted seemed to be struggling just as much with that kiss, not to mention all that flirting. Does he feel this tension as harshly as I do? What if we do find some twisted way to sleep together? What happens when it's a wrap on the whole film?
What if we have to part ways?
What if I don't want to?
I lay awake at night, staring up at the ceiling like I had done yesterday, once again thinking about Ted. All of these thoughts are racing through my mind, and I can't properly grasp any of them. When I close my eyes, I just see Ted kissing me. I feel his hands around my waist, I feel his stubble against my fingertips, his lips refusing to part from mine, his implied desire to go further, 'be louder'. I take a deep breath, breathing out through my mouth to calm myself. Even if all I do is kiss the guy for the next 2 and a half weeks, I'll be thinking about it every night. I know I will.
I wake the next morning to the sound of a lot of people moving around downstairs. Many members of the film crew were searching the entire living room. Some had lifted up the sofa, some were looking around the kitchen, moving cameras, practically pulling the place apart. I could see Tanner, Joseph, and Dan were helping out, Joe especially. He seemed upset.
"Is there a fucking bomb somewhere in the house?" I asked with a chuckle, coming down the stairs to walk to Joe. "What's happened?"
"Your clothes are gone." Joe admits with a frown, rummaging through some of the kitchen cupboards. He must've been desperate if he was looking through the kitchen for clothes.
"Uh...no they're not?" I furrow my brows in confusing, gesturing upstairs. "They're...in my room, I just changed."
"No no no no, the ones I brought. Your film wardrobe. They're just--they're just gone." Joe groans, closing some of the kitchen cabinets. Uh oh. That's over half of my clothes for this trip. My personal suitcase was way smaller than the one Joe had brought and had barely a week's worth of clothes in it. We had spent days getting all of those other outfits together for 'Kara', and I was supposed to take it all home when the film wrapped. Everything I was going to wear for the next 2 and a half weeks were gone.
"Alright, we've checked...literally everywhere. I even went outside.." Ted approached Joe and I, wearing a baby blue t-shirt and some brown slacks kept up by a nice black belt. I believe this fit was one of his own. I could tell. Ted had a nice sense of style. "I didn't leave it outside." Joe huffs, crossing his arms as he leans back against the kitchen counter. "It was down here by the kitchen, away from the camera's, in a bag."
"...It was in a bag?" Tanner asks from across the room, stretching his neck out a bit so he could see us. "Yeah, the suitcase I had it in fucking broke when I brought it upstairs last night, so I had to put it all in a bag until our hangers came in." Joe explained, running his fingers through his hair. "I couldn't drag it up the stairs by myself so I left it in here."
Tanner frowned, coming over to join the 3 of us in the kitchen. "What kind of bag?" Tanner asked with a nervous smile, gesturing his hands out in front of Joe.
"I had to throw them in--" I see realization hit Joe like a ton of bricks, his expression changing from frustration to near anguish. "I'm a fucking idiot."
"What?" Tanner frowns again. "You're not an idiot."
"I'm an absolute fucking idiot."
"Why?"
"Tanner?"
"Yeah?
"Did the garbage get taken out today?"
"Yeah."
"The garbage was her clothes."
"...OH..."
Joe places both of his hands over his face and moves his finger up into his hair to pull at it with another groan, a frustrated smile and a chuckle leaving him. I honestly felt pretty guilty, even if I had nothing to do with this. Maybe if I hadn't been the first to turn in for the night, I would've been able to offer to put the bag in my room.
"How many outfits we talkin'?" Ted asks, placing his hands on his shoulders. "Like...10? I think?" Joe answers, shaking his head and swallowing thickly, making an audible 'gulp' noise. "I don't know man--I'm just--I'm overwhelmed. I'm fucking sorry."
"No no, it's okay, we can fix this.." Ted speaks to Joe in a comforting tone, holding his hands out with his palms pointed to the ground. "We're literally 5 minutes away from the city, we can get new clothes, right?" Ted asks, turning his wrists in a little shrug.
"I'm not letting either of you front any of those costs." Joe replied, shaking his head. "Oh, they don't have to." Tanner chimes in, looking at Joe. "I got an emergency credit card literally for when something like this was gonna happen."
"Emergency credit card?" I repeated, furrowing my brows again.
"Yeah, it's got a little under a thousand in it right now." Tanner explained, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his worn leather wallet. "I signed up for it a couple weeks ago just in case we needed it. My instructor recommended it."
Joe and I look at each other and I smile at him. I see a sense of relief wash over his body, but he's still a little reluctant. "Tanner, I--I don't want to spend a thousand of your money because of my fuck up."
"See, that's the best part: It's technically not my money. It's the school's." Tanner smiled, pointing at Joe. "As long as it's related to this film and I can prove it was an emergency, they cover it."
Joe gives a humorous smirk and shrugs. "OK that's different, I'm OK spending your school's money." He chuckles, getting a laugh from Tanner.
After informing everyone to stop the search, the 4 of us have a talk and agree to split up for the day. Tanner and Joe will stay here and take the time to get some of the last solo shots with the extras done and over with, and Ted and I will head out in his Tacoma once again to go outfit shopping. In reality, Joe could've been the one to go with me, but he lied about wanting to watch Tanner be a director. I know he was lying because he winked at me as Ted was busy putting a long sleeved brown shirt on. It was meant to be a little chilly today anyways.
As soon as we stepped out, it was just Ted and I once again.
After pulling out of the driveway, we're once again on the road to head into the city. It's a Friday, so the roads are a bit more packed than usual. At one point we even ran into some traffic, which caused Ted and I to start an out of the blue conversation detailing interesting facts about each other. I had told him a few interesting things about myself, but boy did I feel boring compared to him. He told me all about some of the things he had done for YouTube content, like his trips to the Rainforest Café and Margaritaville with Eddy, his 400mg Nerd Rope incident, when he watched all the barbie movies, all of It. Anything I said, he'd immediately upstage me. But the one thing; the one thing that surprised me about him the most was...
"Your whole name is Theodore?"
I turn my head to look at Ted as he kept his eyes on the road, or more like on the still SUV at the red light in front of us. "Theodore Nivison.."
"Junior, too. I'm the sequel." Ted grins, glancing at me for a moment. "I almost introduced myself to you as 'Theo', actually, but I figured Tanner had already told you about me."
"Oh yeah, that would've made you sound even more like a prick."
"Well, see, I had this idea that I needed to be charming, but now I see you're a fucking wench, so.."
"Wench!?" I start laughing, tilting my head back. This mother fucker. He does not need to be this funny. He can't be handsome and funny. It isn't fair. "You're a fucking tool, Theodore"
"Oh I hate hearing my full name in your voice." Ted cringes playfully. "Don't do that."
"I'm gonna start calling you Theodore now."
"Please, don't. I'll take 'Theo' and 'Teddy', those are fine."
"I thought you didn't like Teddy?" I make my voice sound a little higher and lean my arm against the storage compartment between us, batting my eyelashes at Ted. He turns his head to look at me and say something, but he pauses. Our faces are close again and I think I see him blush for a moment, but he rolls his eyes and turns his head away to look out the front window again. "I don't mind it from you."
"Awe, Theodore! You do care!"
I'm giggling to myself in the passenger seat as the light turns green, adjusting myself so I'm fully seated. Ted gives me playful smacks on the arm before he starts driving again, pestering me to be quiet as he drives. I'm lightly whacking at his hand whenever he tries to pester me, giggling like an absolute fool. I just love messing with him. I absolutely love messing with him.
We drove around for a little bit, trying to decide where to go to get these clothes. We didn't want to spend hours and hours going from store to store and we certainly didn't intend to max out Tanner's card, even if it wasn't his money. Ted mentioned that he usually just goes to Old Navy, so we settled on there. The closest Old Navy was in a strip mall, so we had to find a parking spot and walk around inside for a little bit just to get to it. A lot of the smaller stores we passed by were either completely empty or closed down entirely, yet there were a lot of people walking around just for the food court. Valid.
"You wanna get lunch after?" I ask Ted, glancing up at him as we walk. He's so tall. "You askin' me out?" He remarks with a smirk. "I'm asking if you're hungry. I'm hungry."
"...Yeah, I could eat, but not here." Ted agreed with a little shrug, slipping his hands in his pockets. "I'll take us somewhere better later."
"Not the Rainforest."
"...Alright, but you're no fun."
We spend the entire late morning and half of the afternoon together in that mall. The entire time we're joking with each other and laughing together. It felt like it did on the very first day when we had to get breakfast: little to no tension, just good vibes and even better chemistry. As much as I enjoyed getting weak in the loins by his charming looks and deep voice, I also enjoyed just casually getting along with him. I enjoyed having this friendship
This friendship has A LOT of sexual tension in it, but still, I like being his friend.
I had tried on a TON of clothes at that Old Navy. Turns out, not a bad place to shop. They had some sort of flash sale going on, so we got a lot more than just 10 simple outfits. Even Ted had decided to buy a new shirt, letting me help him decide between a few before we'd pay for our stuff and leave. We took a lot of photos, too. At one point, Ted had completely underestimated if whether or not a shirt would fit me. I came out of the dressing room with it about half on. It barely covered my bra and completely showed my midrift. There was no way I was able to pull it down, I looked like an overgrown toddler. I looked ridiculous, but man, were we laughing about it. At another point, we accidentally took the long way back around to the entrance we came in from, so we passed by a fairly busy Victoria's Secret. Ted sneakily moved over to a full set of pink lingerie and held it up to his body, gesturing over at me with a humorous smirk.
"You're not buying that for me." I snicker, crossing my arms at me. "It's for me, bitch!" Ted remarks with a cringey, feminine lisp, hooking the lingerie back up where it belonged to scurry back to me before being seen. I laughed hard enough for my voice to start echoing across the mall. Everything he did today was making me laugh. Even when we were leaving the mall and I realized Sweet Escape was playing, Ted was making me laugh with his...unique idea of dancing. Maybe he liked making me laugh, I don't know. I wasn't complaining.
We get back to Ted's tacoma just before it starts raining. Ted has to rush to throw all of the new clothes in the backseat before he can get in, some of the rainwater weighing down his tall hair a little as he sits down in the driver's seat and closes his door with a huff.
"Look at us, getting caught in the rain." I grin at Ted, watching as he ran his fingers through his now damp hair. "Yeah, super romantic, I'm sure.". Ted playfully scoffed, starting up his truck to pull out of the mall parking lot. He'd drive a little slower once the rain would pick up, keeping his eyes on the road. This particular drive was quiet, but that changed once we parked by the restaurant we were planning to get lunch at.
"No way am I walking in that.." Ted speaks, taking his seatbelt off so he can relax back against his seat. "I don't think it'll last much longer." I reply, taking my seatbelt off as well. "It's probably just a passing storm. We can just kill time.." I lean forward to look up through the front window, trying to see how dark the clouds above us are.
"That works, got a question for you anyway." Ted spoke, shifting his body a little so he could face me more comfortably. I gesture at him to let him ask his question, checking my phone's weather app to see how long the storm was estimated to last.
"Why couldn't you kiss me yesterday?"
I stop scrolling through the weather app to look at Ted, raising a brow at him with a smirk. "From what I can remember, I had no problems kissing you yesterday.."
"Yeah, once we were alone." Ted smirks at me, tilting his head a little when I didn't give an immediate answer. I stare back at him for a moment before adjusting in my seat to face him more, leaning a bit against the storage space between us once again. "You couldn't kiss me either." I smirk back at him, squinting a little as if to examine him. "You're the one that said you could kiss the--"
"Yeah I know what I said, 'pretty lady' I know. I know." Ted interrupted me, holding his hand up in between us. "I'm asking you, I have my own reasons."
"And what reasons are there?"
"I'm asking you, princess. Don't dodge around it."
"No no no, now you've got me curious."
"I don't fucking care what I've got you, I'm not telling you shit until--"
"You're the one that was supposed to give the tell, Ted."
Ted and I lock eyes once again, my smirk turning into a knowing smile. It's true. All of those nerves? Ted technically started it. At first, Ted was too nervous to give the tell on camera so Tanner wanted us to do a practice kiss. That's where I was personally messing up.
"Why couldn't you kiss me, Theo~?"
Without even realizing, my eyes linger down to his quaint blush toned lips, quickly darting my eyes back up to meet his once more. Did he notice? I hope to god he didn't notice. I had been thinking about that first kiss for nearly an hour last night, but being alone with Ted makes me think about it again. My stomach feels fluttery just looking into his eyes. I have to hold back the urge to giggle anytime he smiles at me. Part of me even wants to kiss him right now.
Ted's silent smirk turns into a charming smile, raising his chin a little.
"...I don't think it needs to be said at this rate, does it?" Ted finally responds, his eyes seemingly searching my face. That certainly isn't going to help the butterflies in my stomach, but it's the closest thing I'm probably going to get to a clear answer about Ted's feelings, at least for now.
"Well...I guess we're both disappointments, then." I say, resting my chin on my hand.
"Guess so.." Ted shrugs lightly, keeping his gaze on mine. I glance at his neck before looking at his face again.
"You're going to be trouble for me, aren't you?" I ask in a gentle voice.
"I kinda hope so, yeah." He grins back at me, lowering his chin to fully meet my gaze. "That's what I'm goin' for."
The sun's harsh rays slowly move over to practically light up the inside of the truck, revealing that the storm had finally passed. I wonder what would've happened if that storm had lasted just a little bit longer. I probably would've kissed him. God, I wanted to kiss him.
Ted and I finally exit his Tacoma to go inside and grab some lunch, deciding to dine-in despite knowing we had been out longer than anticipated. I brought this up to Ted, but he assured me Tanner wouldn't care. I'm starting to think Tanner and Joe are trying to set us up. Even as Ted and I sit at our booth and continue to talk casually about ourselves, I get a sense that Ted and I have a timer between us. I don't know what it's counting down to, but either this tension is going to just fizzle out as harmless flirting and we go our separate ways, or it's going to explode in our faces. Yesterday's kiss makes me feel like it's going to be the ladder.
I had a big storm of my own on it's way.
After lunch, Ted and I returned to set with everything we had bought, plus some leftovers for Tanner. Joe and I spent the rest of the evening getting all of the outfits together, making sure to keep them all hung up in my room this time. Next thing I know, the day is over and I'm once again in my room, just looking over social media on my phone. I'm wearing a flowy nightgown to bed tonight with only pajama shorts on underneath, but I'm comfortable, even though it's late. I probably should've put my phone down an hour ago, but it was hard to fall asleep. It sounded like everyone else was out cold, it was dead quiet out there.
Suddenly, there's a knock at my bedroom door.
I look up from my phone, furrowing my brows a little. Who could that be? Joe?
"Yeah?" I ask in a confused tone, resting my phone in my lap.
"Can I come in for a bit?"
Holy fuck
It's Ted.
At my door.
At my fucking door.
"...Why?" I ask, sounding even more befuddled. Ted responds back with something, but I can barely hear him over the door. "Open the door, I can barely hear you."
Ted slowly opens the door, in the same blue shirt he was wearing earlier with some sweatpants on instead and a laptop in his free hand. "Tanner fell asleep in my bed and his door is locked."
"How did Tanner fall asleep in your bed?"
"We were playing Smash Bros on his switch and he--he just conked out, like magic."
As ridiculous as that would sound to the average person, I believed him. Tanner does just fall asleep sometimes. It's funny.
"What does his door being locked have to do with this?" I ask, pointing down.
"Well, I was gonna just take his bed, but I can't get in."
"Uhh-" I let out a nervous chuckle. "You're not fucking sleeping in here, weirdo."
"No, I--keep fucking dreamin', alright? I just need a space to rest my back while I finish this script. I'm sleepin' downstairs."
"Why can't you work downstairs?"
"Because that couch fuckin' sucks. Can I chill here for a bit or not? Like an hour, tops."
I let out an annoyed huff and roll my eyes, patting the empty spot on the bed beside me.
"Thank you." Ted mockingly bows at me before entering the room, closing the door behind him. I scoot a bit further away so he has more room, watching as he sits down next to me and stretches his legs out in front of him, placing his laptop in his lap.
"I don't see how the couch sucks." I shrug, looking down at my phone again. "It was pretty comfortable the other day."
"Oh cool. Can I steal your bed for the night, then? You can take the fuckin' couch." Ted looks over at me with an amusing smirk.
"Oh now you wanna sleep in my bed?"
"Not if you're yappin' in it."
"I wasn't yappin' in it till' you started fuckin' yappin' in it."
"Well now we're both yappin' in it when I need to be yappin' up my fuckin' work, princess. Quit your yappin."
"I'll stop yappin' when you stop yappin'."
"Alright."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Good."
"Good."
I let out a huff as I hold back the urge to laugh, but Ted starts laughing quietly, making me start chuckling as well. I shake my head to myself, lightly wiping my eyes.
"God, we never stop, eh?" I chuckled, looking at Ted again. "No, I don't--I don't think we can sometimes." Ted admits with a grin, running his fingers through his hair briefly before returning to his laptop, scrolling through what looked to be a long page of words before moving to the bottom to start typing again. I look back at my phone and smile to myself. I'm so comfortable with this man. It's a little jarring to me sometimes, but I am.
Ted works quietly alongside me for a few minutes. I'm scrolling through Instagram with my audio muted, so the only sounds are Ted's fingers clicking down against his laptop keyboard and the occasional hum that leaves him. After a little while, the clicking stops, and he decides to spark another conversation. Writer's block gets the best of us, I suppose.
"What do you think about filming so far?" Ted asks me, turning his head once again to look at me. I like the way the laptop is illuminating his face. "I've really enjoyed it." I admit with a soft smile, settling my phone down in my lap once more. "I like...how challenging it's been, y'know? I wasn't expecting this to be the easiest thing in the world or anything, but the amount of problems we've had to solve and the anxieties I've had to push through...it's all been fun. I'm having fun."
"Yeah, it's been a ride for sure, so far.." Ted nods at me, lightly licking his bottom lip. "I've liked getting to hang with Tanner and Joe again, I got to meet you, Dan's a little strange at times but I think he's openin' up. I think he's chill. I like this....tight little group we've developed. I like it. Um..."
Ted pauses for a moment, glancing at his computer screen before looking at me again, his eyes searching my face as if he was contemplating something. "Can I be honest for a sec? Just...between you and me?"
I feel those butterflies in my stomach again, meeting his gaze with a gentle blush along my cheeks. He's so dreamy. "Absolutely.." I speak in a soft tone, giving him a little nod as well.
"Who was it that was supposed to be me again? Mason, I mean. Carl?" Ted points at me as he tries to guess Conner's name, shaking his head at himself. "No. Con-Conrad?"
"Conner." I correct him, a giggle escaping me.
"Conner. Thank you." Ted chuckles a little, looking down at his hand for a moment before bringing his soft eyes up to look into mine once more. "I'm...I'm kinda glad he didn't make it up here. No I am. I am glad he...didn't make it."
I'm met with an incredibly genuine smile from Ted, making me smile back with a quiet sigh, as if one of those butterflies in my stomach flew up and out of me. I didn't need to guess what Ted was implying there, I knew. I just knew what he meant, and it was incredibly sweet. Probably might've been the sweetest thing a guy has said to me in a long, long time.
"But don't tell Joe I said that, he'll probably smack me upside the fuckin' head." Ted makes a smacking gesture to his head, getting another flirty giggle out of me. "No worries, I'm great at keeping secrets." I reply with a confident grin.
"Oh are you?"
"100%.."
My gaze lingers on him, my soft smile relaxing as I gaze into his dark, earthy eyes. The lights were off when Ted had initially entered the room, so the only thing really illuminating us were the screen lights of his laptop and my phone, but still, I could take in every detail of his handsome face. His dreamy eyes, the unique curve of his nose, the plucks of his growing stubble, the little moles along his cheek, the small dimples he creates when he smiles, his quaint but inviting lips, the shape of his jaw, all that hair on his head...
"...Did you just look at my lips?"
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|| Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 6 (smut) || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 (smut) || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 (smut) || Chapter 15 ||
#ted nivison x you#ted nivison fanfiction#ted nivison fanfic#ted nivison x reader#ted nivison#ted nivision#youtuber x reader#youtuber fanfiction#jschlatt#chuckle sandwhich#AllARomCom
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I guess it`s somehow an addition to the previous post with crazy pairings, but this time it`s not about dices deciding on our future but me. So, I present you the worst and the best questionable pairings from Warhammer 30k. The position of the character in the *name*/*name* thing is important.
Sanguinius/Rogal Dorn and NOT the other way around.
Sanguinius, just as Vulkan, can be paired with anyone if you`re brave enough, but I think he looks the best with that Imperial Fist in his ass. The Siege of Terra is the basis of their relationship because nothing attracts people to each other better than shared suffering and the same tragedy.
Sanguinius is the soldier who`s general doesn`t want to let him go to the field because he values him too much personally. But he still goes, yet, as he was asked from the general, never says “goodbye”. And Rogal is dying inside while trying to keep track of everything that is going on in and out of the Palace, receiving special reports about the Angel`s wellbeing. He just cares about him too much, and, since he technically has the right to prevent Sanguinius from throwing himself out only to be eaten by a bunch of heretics, he uses it quite often. Even if it doesn`t stop the Angel at all.
The hawk boy is just happy to come back to someone who waits for him from the battlefield.
I sincerely believe that the future in which there`s only war we desperately need some angsty fluff, and those two make the best of it.
2. Vulkan/Ferrus, for the balance of universe.
The previous couple was all about softness and fluff, about how feelings bloom in people in spite of the Great War. But these too exist only because they match.
They are both from death worlds, and both Medusa and Nocturne, if I remember it correctly, are not actually considered to be death worlds, but they are. It`s probably because Vulcan didn’t want to send people away from their homes and Ferrus was just to lazy to apply for the status of his homeworld.
Ferrus also needs someone who`d kick his ass, and there was a scene in canon that showed how desperately he wanted to fight with Vulkan in his special training cage for strong opponents, but Vulkan refused. Probably because he knew too well that Ferrus` pride would not hold against the reality in which he`s not the perfect one.
But I think eventually he would agree, after Ferrus made him a little too frustrated with his demeanor. He`d brutally beat him and then calmly explain to him why it`s so important to be polite and respectful to people.
Fulgrim also does not deserve Ferrus so let the forge boys stay together please.
3. Roboute Guilliman/Perturabo
That`s pretty simple actually. I don`t remember who exactly said it here, but Roboute is just Forrix with no spice, and Perturabo, being Greek, probably hates spicy food. Roboute has a thing for fixing everything around him, and Perturabo desperately needs someone who would fix him.
Or they can become worse together, it depends on how you look at the couple.
They both are also two representatives of high-functioning depression, but Roboute is someone who tries to hide his condition by throwing off formal parties and dressing in colorful clothes, while Perturabo shows it off, bearing his burden proudly in front of everyone (it makes everyone uncomfortable). They have incredibly similar personalities if you look closer, their perfectionism, their intelligent sarcasm and their intelligence and education in general.
Also, Roboute is not that calm and collected as he is usually shown. He`s got a short temper just like Perturabo, his rage rises in a matter of seconds. He just knows how to control it and most of the time does not allow his frustration to affect his actions. Unlike Perturabo.
They make a great team in work and for both of them this fact is very important. Roboute likes to plan everything, Perturabo likes to follow plans. Perturabo is a tactician and Roboute is a strategist. Roboute is the sword and Perturabo is the shield.
I can see them having a noble slow burn with lots of long conversations about philosophy, art and history, during which Perturabo finally gets to talk about the things he actually like and Roboute gets to know the man behind the armor. They fall for each other slowly but surely.
And Roboute can keep Perturabo loyal, not to the Imperium, but to himself.
4. Mortarion/Lorgar Aurelian
This might be the strangest pairing so far but don`t worry it`s the last of them. I`ve already mentioned that to me there`s no greater basis for the relationship than shared suffering and I want to add hate to everyone around the couple to it.
Mortarion is a gentle soul. He has a tough personality, but he`s soft in hearts, so he protects them at all costs. And Lorgar knows too well how to treat gentle souls properly.
Aurelian probably sees Mortarion as his own younger self, treating him like he would like to be treated in his past. He listens to him, allows him to rant about the grudge he holds against the Emperor and simply gives him the much needed understanding.
They have a few similarities in their pasts too, they both were raised by some freaks and that traumatized them. They could discuss and treat each other`s daddy issues. It`s like mutual masturbation but it starts with their minds.
Speaking of mind, Aurelian is a psyker and Mortarion is allergic to it. But with time he could see that there`s no monster behind those powers, and although he`d still prefer Lorgar without them, he can tolerate it.
I hope one day they will team up, kick their first captains` asses and have their happy ever after.
#warhammer 30k#warhammer 40k#sanguinius#perturabo#roboute guilliman#rogal dorn#lorgar aurelian#mortarion#vulkan#ferrus manus
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