#yes I wrote and posted this all in one day (the day of christmas)

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - Part 6 (the finale)

Our time has come, this labor of love is *finished* (at least for now, i could probably be convinced to return to these loves soon)

warnings: none pairing: lando x singlemom!reader word count: 2k words

- A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - A Package Deal - Part 3 - A Package Deal - Part 4 - A Package Deal - Part 5 - Master List

yourusername (private) posted

yourusername cold but happy carlossainz still can't believe you convinced Lando to spend Christmas in the cold. >>>yourusername oh it wasn't me! Stella said she wanted to learn how to ski, next thing I know he's booking a 2 week trip to Switzerland! >>>landonorris what my girl wants, my girl gets. 🤷🏻

Christmas, 2025 "Momma, are you sure Santa knows to bring my presents here this year and to not leave them at home?" The concern etched on Stella's face has you grinning into your wine glass.

"Yes, my darling." You assure her, patting her head as she snuggles deeper into Lando's side. "I wrote him a letter weeks ago, remember? You were with me when we mailed it! When you wake up tomorrow morning, all of your presents will be underneath that tree right over there."

This had been Stella's number one concern ever since Lando had announced that he'd booked a house at one of the most exclusive resorts in Gstaad, Switzerland for the Christmas holiday. You had spent a significant amount of time since discussing the fact that yes, Santa did know she wasn't going to be at home this year and yes, he would be able to deliver her presents here instead.

You had been in the mountain town for a few days now, spending nearly every waking moment on the slopes. It was beginning to feel routine, the way you all woke up around the same time and had breakfast together before getting your snow gear on and heading out onto the mountain. You had enrolled Stella in ski school that first day, despite Lando's protests that he could absolutely teach her to ski by himself, and she was thriving. It took a Herculean effort to get her off of her skis every evening but you were happy Stella was having fun.

Today you had managed to get Stella off the mountain early in order to go to dinner with Max and Pietra, who were also staying at the resort for Christmas. Max's initial reservations about Lando dating a single mom had long since evaporated into thin air, after he had seen how much both Stella and Lando adored each other this year. By the middle of the summer, you and Pietra had also become much closer as well, so you enjoyed traveling with Lando's friends who you now considered yours as well.

There was a crackling fire in the huge fireplace that took up most of the external wall of the large four bedroom chalet-style home and above the fireplace, Elf played on the tv. Stella was snuggled up between you and Lando, her head buried underneath Lando's arm, while her feet were stretched across your lap. Lando's arm is flung over the side of the couch, his fingers tangled in yours as his thumb brushes soft circles over the back of your hand. After a few days with a lot of activity, it felt nice to finally spend the evening relaxing in the quiet of your own space.

As the credits to Elf begin to roll, you tap Stella's feet, a signal that it's time to get moving. "Come on, baby girl, it's time for bed. Go brush your teeth and then I'll be in to read more of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and tuck you in, okay? The sooner you get to sleep, the faster Santa comes!"

Stella stretches out her legs and whines, sounding a lot like a cat after it wakes up from a long nap. "I want Dad to tuck me in tonight."

The entire world goes still as you suck in a breath at the name she just used for the very first time. On the other side of the couch, you see Lando freeze too, gaze snapping straight to you as his fingers tighten around yours. The request has your heart squeezing in your chest, a response to her question simply unable to form in your brain.

Stella senses the mood shift in the room and glances up first at you and then over at Lando. "What? Can't Daddy tuck me in just this once?"

Daddy.

Lando's stomach does a somersault up into his throat as he grips onto your hand for reassurance. Had she just...

It really shouldn't have been a surprise, he'd realize later once Stella was fast asleep and you were curled up in his arms in your shared bed. Ever since Silverstone back in July, Lando had practically moved in to your house in all but name. He'd decided to rent out his Monaco apartment to one of the new rookie drivers next season, choosing to remain full time in England where you were. The teachers and parents at school all knew him not as Lando Norris, Formula 1 driver but as the man that often picked up Stella from school whenever he was able to. Stella's teacher had even begun including him on her weekly email newsletters she always sent out on Friday afternoons. He was as ingratiated into this family as both you and Stella were.

But hearing her call him dad for the first time? The new title did something to Lando's heart that he wasn't sure he'd ever recover from.

Emotion claws at his throat as he struggles to find the simple words to answer her request.

"Of course he can, honey." You whisper, seeing the shock and adoration sit heavy on Lando's face. Your own voice is with thick with emotion too. "Do you need help finding some jammies to change into?" You ask as Stella slowly gets up from her little nest between you and Lando.

"Dad can help me." She says with a shrug, as if the name is the most natural thing in the world.

Lando moves to get off the couch as Stella pads down the hallway, the brand new teddy bear she had conned him into buying at a shop today tucked into the crook of her elbow. He squeezes your shoulder as you look up at him, brilliant smile stretching over your face.

"You okay?" You ask as he rounds the couch, following behind Stella, dazed look still on his face.

Lando rubs at the back of his neck, stopping for a moment before turning back to you. His eyes shimmer with tears as he glances behind him and then back at you. "I think so...is...is that okay with you? Her calling me..." He pauses, trying to work his mouth around the next word, "dad like that?"

You're surprised to see concern flit across his face, like you could possibly be upset at what had just happened. "Lando." You murmur, rising from the couch to stand in front of him. You slip your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. His lips are warm despite the fact that his kiss is hesitant at first. He quickly reads the emotion you pour into him though: confidence, love, desire. All of it positive and he knows without needing to hear anything vocalized that you're just happy about his new title as he is.

You tuck your head into his neck, nuzzling at the warm spot you love so much. "She loves you so much and so do I. You're the best thing that could have ever happened to us, Lando Norris."

Lando chuckles. "I think it's the opposite way around, my love. You two are the best thing that could have ever happened to me."

"DAAAAAAD" From the end of the hall, Stella's little voice calls out and you both can't help the laugh that pulls you apart. "I'm waaaaaaiting!!! Stop kissing Momma and come read to me!" She demands.

"The Princess awaits." Lando mutters before giving you one last peck on the cheek and turning away to walk down the hall towards Stella's room.

Over an hour later and you're 2 glasses of wine deeper than you were when Lando left you, still sitting alone on the couch. You're beginning to think he's fallen asleep putting Stella to bed only because you've done the same thing countless amounts of times over the years when you hear the door to her room whisper open.

"You were in there a long time." You murmur as Lando sits down on the couch before he pulls you into his lap. You set the wine glass down on the side table next to you so you can wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

"Stella and I had some things to discuss." He says lightly.

Lando's body relaxes as he tucks his head into your neck. If there's one thing you adore about your boyfriend you'll adore until the ends of time it's how affectionate he is. He's always touching you when you're near and he never gives half-hearted hugs, they're something he pours his full body into. The same goes with cuddling, it's never halfway with Lando when it comes to physical affection and you simply cannot ever get enough.

"Oh?" You laugh, grinning at him. "And what are you two plotting now?"

Lando shifts, glancing away as if he's nervous to answer your question. "Stella calling me dad just had me thinking about things..."

You lift an eyebrow. "Things?"

"Yeah" Lando nods. He takes a deep breath and pulls you closer into his chest. "I just got to thinking and maybe it’s time we make things official."

"What are you talking about?" Confusion has you pulling away from him so you can look at him. There's a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth and you have to resist the urge to kiss him, despite the fact that you are fully lost as to what he's talking about. "You’ve been calling me your girlfriend for months now?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, I mean official official. With this." Lando lifts his hips off the couch and pulls out a black velvet box from his pocket. For the second time that night, your heart stalls in your chest, world tilting a bit on its axis.

"Lan." You whisper before sucking in a breath as he opens the top of the ring box. Nestled in the black velvet sits the most gorgeous ring you'd ever laid eyes on. It's simple and perfect and something you would have picked out on your own had you been let loose in a jewelry store.

"Marry me, baby." Lando's voice is thick, anxiety and nerves evident in every syllable that comes out of his mouth. "I never want to go back to a world where you and Stella aren't in my life. Stella sees me as her dad, I hope you can see me as your husband and father of the rest of our babies one day. I love you so much l. Spend the rest of your life with me?

It's a wonder the sound of your heart clattering against your ribcage doesn't wake Stella up it's so loud. Blood rushes past your ears so loudly, the sounds of the house are muffled for a moment and all you can do is stare at Lando. He doesn't move, a look of anxiety and love and hundreds of other emotions sitting so plainly on his face you can barely form a thought.

"Of course. Oh my god. Of course." Your right hand finds his cheek and you frame his face with your hand as he takes your left hand before slipping the ring on your finger. A perfect fit.

"Yeah?" A wash of relief crashes over Lando because for a moment he thought you were about to reject him.

When he had finished reading a chapter of Stella's book to her, he had as casually as he could brought up the idea of them being a family for real next year. Stella had been a bit confused, asking him if the weren't already a real family but Lando had quickly explained he meant he wanted to marry you but only if Stella thought that was a good idea because she was part of their family too and what she thought mattered to him just as much as what you thought.

You nod, laughing through your tears before crashing your lips to his in a heated kiss. "Yeah." You mutter against his mouth.

"I was going to do this tomorrow morning" Lando pulls away, glancing down at your hand that's still captured between his. "But it just felt right tonight. Stella was so excited, she started asking what kind of dress she’d get to wear at the wedding."

"Oh Lando." You coo before you allow him to lay you down on the couch, kissing you as he goes.

yourusername (private) posted

123 likes liked by BFFSarah, CarlosSainz, yourdad, and others yourusername mrs. norris has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? 😘 BFFSarah OH. MY. GOD. I'm sobbing. Bestie. I love you. I love him. I love Stella. I'm so happy for you!!! >>>yourusername ❤️❤️❤️ thank you babes >>>BFFSarah sorry, back again to tell you holy SHIT that ring!! @/landonorris you did good!! >>>landonorris why thank you! ☺️

landonorris posted

1,098,874 likes liked by yourusername, mclaren, zakbrownceo, and others landonorris santa can't compete with my present this year zakbrownceo congratulations to both of you!!! we'll have to throw a little party when you're back in the new year! >>>yourusername thanks zak!! you are too good to us! user009 the gold digger got what she wanted...how long til she's knocked up with baby number 2? gotta get that bag somehow... >>>user221 seriously. bro fell for the oldest trick in the book. fucking gross. >>>user223 hey so this is a fucking WILD thing to say about someone you don't even know so publicly. JESUS. user928 OH MY GOD THEY'RE ENGAGED user230 we're going to get dad lando content FOREVER >>>user929 the way i live for stella/lando content and now we get even MORE??? Yes please!!!

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[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (25/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Having lunch with friends always leads to sharing information. And girl, those friends don't hold back.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of smut), fluff, Kika is the bestest friend on this planet, mentions of Carlos and his girlfriend (yes, I consider this a trigger)

Word Count: 3.3k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: I just reached 2.6k followers and wow!! thank you so much!!! I love you! and this one is for you!!! feedback is appreciated.

Although it's only a few days until Christmas, the sun is shining so brightly that it's pleasantly warm as you and Kika leave the furniture store. As planned - but still with an uneasy feeling - you have left the almost overflowing shopping cart in front of the checkouts and while Charles pays for your "early Christmas present", you and your friend walk to the restaurant.

"I hope all this stuff fits in the car." Kika curls her mouth into a grin. "The mirror I wrote on the note - you know, the one they have to get from storage - is pretty big."

"I'd like to have your guts," you answer her. "Just picking out a huge mirror without knowing exactly whether it will fit anywhere in our apartment."

Kika grins and points to her brown eyes. "Eye measurement, baby. Those marbles are that big for a reason."

You have to stifle a laugh. "If you say so."

While the Portuguese woman plans where in your room she will place which decoration, your thoughts drift off. 

It bothers you a little that Charles wants to spend so much money on you. And for no good reason. "I want you to feel comfortable" was his explanation, which is of course very courteous and loving of him. But you could have bought the things with your own money. At least a small part of it. 

Would he expect a similarly expensive gift for Christmas now? If so, what could you get him? What do you give someone who already has everything? 

"Are you mad at me?" Kika interrupts your flow of thoughts and grabs your elbow. 

Confused, you turn to her. "What?"

"I - I don't know." When she stops, you're forced to stop too. "I didn't tell you that Charles is a famous Formula 1 driver. You - you confided in me about Raphael and I kept you in the dark about your roommate." 

You exhale. "Kika..."

"I wasn't a good friend and I'm sorry about that. Charles had asked us all not to tell because he wanted to protect you and enjoy the time with you when he was just Charles to you. Even if it wasn't fair to you. I can understand if you're angry with me and-"

"I'm not angry with you," you interrupt her and smile at her. "You're Charles' friend first and foremost and I can't blame him or you for keeping his secret. It doesn't affect our friendship in the slightest."

"Promise?" Her tone sounds a little more pleased than it did a few moments ago. 

You nod. "I promise."

She hooks back into you. "Thank goodness for that. I felt super bad because I couldn't tell you. But it wasn't my secret and it wasn't my place to tell you. And I'm really relieved that you see it the same way." She rests her head on your shoulder as you continue walking. 

"So you're a model, huh?" you ask her. 

She nods. "Yes. Well, I put a lot of effort into it and it's very tiring at times." Kika shrugs her shoulders. "But because of that - and Pierre, of course - I get to travel a lot and see great places. And I really appreciate that." She looks at you. "Now that you're unemployed -" You give her a dirty look. "Maybe you'd like to take my pictures sometime. And then I can post it on my Instagram and maybe other models will want to book you."

"You haven't seen any of my pictures yet," you reply with a laugh as she grabs your hand and jumps up and down. "Of course we can. We can try it out if you like."

Your friend looks around briefly before letting go of you and moving away from you. "How about now? I know you don't have your camera with you, but you can use my phone. The photos won't be as focused as with a real camera, but it should be enough to get you started." 

She hands you her cell phone before standing opposite you against the wall of the house. You watch her uncertainly as she fixes her hair. "Are you sure about this? What if the boys are already waiting for us?"

"Let them." She pulls her black jeans up a little so that they sit loosely on her hips. "It won't take long. And I trust you. So here we go."

While Kika turns, repositions herself and smiles at the camera, you take as many pictures as you can. In between, you adjust her purple cardigan so that it sits in the middle of her narrow shoulders, tell her how her feet should be positioned to emphasize the curves of her body and even tousle her hair once so that a few strands fall loosely into her forehead. 

When you look at the pictures after ten minutes and favor three of them, she looks curiously over your shoulder. "They look great. Really outfit of the day vibe." You hand the phone back to her. "I like this one. And this one. You've captured my butt well," she grins and puts the phone in her black handbag before hooking it back up to you. "And now let's go. I'm really hungry and I don't want to keep your tiramisu from you."

Oh well. 

Charles' words - "Then lie down on the bed, mon amour. I'd like to see how you look on it" - haunt your mind and the images that appear in your head don't make the situation any easier.  

For example, Charles kneeling between your legs and his gaze wandering hungrily over your body. How his hands rest on your thighs to open them a little wider so that he can lie comfortably on his stomach between them. How he slides his fingers under the hem of your panties to slowly pull them off your legs. And the way his mouth moves up from the soft skin of your thighs to where you want it to be. Need it to be. The way he opens his mouth and licks his tongue over his lips before closing the distance between you and - 

"Watch out. You start drooling." When you give Kika a confused look, she pokes you in the side. "I didn't know you could daydream about tiramisu."

"I wasn't even thinking about tiramisu," you defend yourself, but Kika doesn't believe a word you say. 

"Of course not." You could even hear her grin if you weren't looking at her. She lifts her hand and puts it to your cheek, playfully wiping the non-existent spit from the corner of your mouth. "I hate to repeat myself, but you're really not very good at lying."

You chew the inside of your cheek and look down at your sneakers. "Is it that obvious?"

"That you're totally into tiramisu? Hardly," she replies wryly, but puts her arm around your shoulder. "Let's be honest. A trained eye like mine can spot something like that, but if you're worried about the boys seeing it - you really don't need to worry. They wouldn't even recognize a dessert if you put it right in front of them."

"I just don't know what to do," you confess to her. 

Kika purses her lips. "Would you be ready for tiramisu after everything that's happened?"

A question you don't know the answer to. After Raphael's betrayal, you had actually sworn off men for a long time for fear that something similar would happen to you again. You tried to build a wall around your heart, but Charles has broken it down piece by piece and now there is only him. He has spread inside you, in your head and in your heart, and you are hungry for him - a feeling that you have never felt for Raphael before. A feeling that takes you by surprise and overruns you like an avalanche and you are helplessly at its mercy. 

"It's not the end of the world if you're ready for it," Kika assures you and her smile is genuine. "And when you're ready to give the tiramisu its real name, I'll be here if you want to talk about it."

You hug your friend tightly, causing her to let out a loud gasp. "Thank you, Kika. Really."

"You don't need to thank me. After all, I'm going to make full use of the mirror in your room soon and use you for your photography skills."

A few minutes later, you arrive at the small restaurant. As you enter through the glass door, you can already see the two men sitting at a table at the back. And Kika was right - apart from the four of you, the restaurant is deserted. 

"Where have you been?" asks Pierre as you join them. While Kika sits down opposite her boyfriend, you take the empty seat next to her. "We've been waiting for ages."

"We had to stop for a moment because I wanted to take photos," Kika explains and shows them both one of the pictures you took of her.

Pierre grimaces in amazement. "Very good photos. I hope you tag her in them too."

Playfully indignant, she puts her hand to her cleavage. "Of course! What makes you think I wouldn't do that? It might even land her more photo shoots with other models." She leans in your direction. "But as long as I remain your favorite model, everything's fine."

"You are and always will be my favorite model, Kika," you reply and briefly lean your cheek against the top of her head before she sits up straight again. 

While Kika and Pierre argue lovingly, you feel Charles pressing one of his legs against yours under the table. When you look at him, he smiles. "Everything okay?" he asks silently, tilting his head. 

You nod. "Everything's perfect." You press your leg against his as well.

The risotto you ordered doesn't taste too bad, even if it is a little more fancy than your typical meals. The boys talk about their sport and you try to understand everything, but when the conversation eventually turns to engines, you stop listening. 

You watch Charles as he talks energetically and passionately to his friend about his job, while the French mainly listens. He tries to explain things with his hands, waving them wildly in front of his face, and if you didn't know him, you'd think he was a bit out of his mind. But there is something twinkling in his eyes, a spark that shines brighter and brighter the longer he talks about Formula 1.

It makes him so attractive that you have to swallow. 

"How are Carlos and his girlfriend doing?" Kika interjects into the conversation. "I saw on Instagram the other day that they went on a trip together."

You look from Kika to Charles. "Who is Carlos?"

"My teammate at Ferrari. The other driver," he explains briefly with a smile before turning to Kika. "I've seen that too. Santorini or something, wasn't it? It was definitely nice, but let's see how long it lasts."

You have to ask again. " How long will it last? That doesn't sound like you have much faith in the relationship."

Kika, who has taken a sip of her water, puts her glass back on the table. "Unfortunately, this has nothing to do with faith," she explains and takes her cell phone out of her bag. She taps on it a little until she hands it to you. 

You see an Instagram page of a Becca, also a model, it seems. 27 years old, model at the Bijou Management agency. Her last post is actually from Santorini and alongside all the pictures of her lolling by the pool is one of her with a man. Carlossainz55 is tagged in the picture.

"When you're famous, it's harder to have a relationship," Pierre continues. "Not everyone is so lucky and falls in love with someone who is a good match for them. Sometimes rumors surface about people that aren't true, but still damage reputations. And to counteract this, some people go into relationships that put them in a good light."

You look around in confusion. "So it's a marketing strategy? So that people can sell themselves better?"

Charles nods. "These PR relationships are very conspicuous and usually easy to see through, but even then they distract from the actual rumor."

"And Carlos and Becca are in one of those PR relationships?" Your friends nod. "And what's the rumor that needs to be put to rest?"

Charles bites the inside of his cheek. "Carlos was with a young, super-nice woman for years. When they broke up, there was a rumor that he had a secret family and even a son. That this was the reason for the break-up. And that triggered a few conversations at Ferrari." He shrugs his shoulders. "And then they pulled Becca in for him."

You furrow your eyebrows. "Pulled her in? How do you find someone to willingly agree to a fake relationship like that?"

Kika catches your attention. "Some racing teams have a cooperation with certain modeling agencies for such cases. Which of course makes the whole thing even more conspicuous. But just think how much publicity the girlfriends get from it. It definitely doesn't hurt the modeling job."

"But you also have to understand that millions of euros are attached to a driver's reputation," Pierre explains. "Fans buy tickets to see their favorite driver. They buy merchandise like shirts, caps or whatever to show their loyalty. And loyalty is not exactly low. Ask Charles. One priest has his whole Instagram page dedicated to him."

As you look at your roommate, he can only nod. "That's true. Fans put their favorites on pedestals, praise them to the skies and would defend them to the bitter end. But a rumor that is so serious and has consequences like falling sales figures - anything is better than fans who refuse to support their favorites."

"And why do you think it won't be good for much longer?" Charles looks nervously around the room as if he doesn't know what to say, and his friends also avoid your gaze and your question. "Guys, I don't know these people. So, whatever you tell me - I can't do anything with the information anyway. Is there another woman?"

"It's not exactly another woman," Kika mumbles into her glass and all heads turn in her direction. "What is it? Like she's going to run to the nearest news agency and tell them that the Spanish Ferrari driver isn't exclusively into women."

You raise your hands placatingly. "In case it's not clear - of course I'll keep everything that's said around the table to myself. I'm not crazy and risking our friendship."

"I didn't expect anything else," Charles replies with a smile that could melt glaciers. "I couldn't bear it if we weren't friends anymore either." 

As you look at him and mindlessly lick your lips, you feel Kika's elbow gently on your arm. 

"What do you think? Do you fancy some tiramisu?" 

Your gaze lingers on Charles and when he presses his leg a little harder against yours, your breath hitches. "I'm craving it."

And indeed. The tiramisu isn't as good as the one at the restaurant where you met Kika and Pierre, but it comes close. You try to look away from Charles, but every time you look at him, his eyes are already on you. Something that makes you even more nervous than it should. 

When you get into the car a short time later, unnoticed, you glance briefly over the seats back into the trunk. "Where's the new bed?"

Charles straps himself in and has the seat belt fastened against his torso. "They'll deliver it between Christmas and New Year and set it up straight away. Then I won't have all the work and Pierre won't have to lug it around with me."

"For which I am very grateful," replies the Frenchman, steering the car through the streets of Monaco. "I don't even know how we're going to transport this mirror without breaking it. It was already barely possible to get it into the car."

"That sounds like a you-problem," grins Kika, looking at her boyfriend through the rear-view mirror. "You're the strong men. You'll find a solution while we get all the little things into the apartment. Right?"

The question is directed at you, but apart from a nod, she can't expect anything else in response. Charles's fingers are once again wrapped around your calf, his thumb gently stroking your warm skin and you can't think of anything else but the feeling of warmth that spreads through you from this small touch. 

It takes a good hour for both the mirror and the rest to get to the upstairs in your apartment. After Pierre involuntarily teaches you several swear words in French and Kika decorates your entire windowsill with fake plants, they quickly make a run for it, worried that you're both going to take even more advantage of them than you already have. 

"We've had a good day so far," you call out to Charles from the kitchen as you pour you both a glass of water each. You don't know where he is, but he will probably have heard you anyway. 

"Definitely," comes his voice from the living room. As you follow it, you see Charles sitting on the large couch, his head back and his eyes closed. Only now do you notice how thick his neck is. Is it from all the training for Formula 1?

"Here." You hold his glass of water out to him and he opens his eyes to accept it. As you sit down, he takes a sip. You watch his Adam's apple bounce as he swallows. 

"Thank you," he replies quietly and rests his arm on the back of the couch. A sign for you to lean against him, which you definitely don't refuse. 

As you snuggle into his side and breathe in his unmistakable scent, you feel tiredness overtake you. "But it was exhausting."

""Mh-mhh." 

"Thanks again. For my early Christmas present. Even though it wasn't necessary," you joke, but as rigid as Charles is sitting next to you, he doesn't seem to be in the mood for jokes. And as you follow his stare, the roses on the white piano come into your field of vision. The reason why you suggested the trip to the furniture store. And suddenly your tiredness is blown away. 

"Do you happen to know anyone who has something like a fire bowl or something?" you ask your flatmate. 

This question seems to break him out of his spell. His gaze wanders from the roses to you and he raises an eyebrow in confusion. "A fire bowl?" You nod. "Joris has a rooftop terrace and we've had bonfires there before in the summer." He licks his teeth once. "What do you need a fire bowl for? You're not thinking about sitting around a fire with sticks and marshmallows in winter, are you?"

"Not exactly," you reply and get up from the couch. As you look down at him, you hold out your hand. "Come on, mon joli. I have an idea."

[meazalykov]

its more than a game

lena oberdorf x bayern!reader

part one here - part two here - part three (requested)

summary: you have to explain your relationship to the other team you're apart of

a/n: quickly wrote this last night so sorry for any mistakes!

the new year has come and gone, and with it, a sense of freedom and joy you haven’t felt in so long. 

you and lena are together now—a couple, something you still find yourself getting used to, but in the best possible way. ever since christmas, it feels like you’ve been given permission to love fully, without holding back, and lena, for her part, has become your biggest fan, cheering you on from the sidelines during training and matches as she continues to recover from her acl injury. 

life feels... right for once, and you’re leaning into that happiness more each day.

a week after the season resumes, lena’s back to posting her usual tiktok videos, little glimpses into her life as she rehabilitates her knee and follows bayern around. one day, she records clips at training—joking around with the girls, rookie playfully doing tricks in her backyard, and then the next clip shows you. 

in the video, you're doing dumbbell step ups on the benches, your focus intense as you lift effortlessly.

“and here’s my favorite person doing some easy dumbbell step ups,” lena’s voice says in the background, teasing and proud. 

“which i’m jealous of because i can’t do that for... obvious reasons.” the screen fills with a playful wink from lena, clearly referring to her acl injury. 

she watches you with adoration in her eyes, and it’s so casual, so natural, that you don’t think much of it—until later.

a few hours after she posts the video, your phone blows up with notifications. most of the bayern girls are commenting, teasing lena and cooing at how cute she is. especially with tuva saying that being a wingwoman worked. 

they all know now, and they’ve been nothing but supportive, joking that it was inevitable that you two would end up together. 

however, it’s your national teammates' group chat that catches your attention.

“hey, y/n,” one of your national teammates, sophia, texts.

“hi, yes!?” you respond.

“lena oberdorf’s tiktok came on my for you page, you are in it. what’s going on there?” sophia says.

“what tiktok?” naomi texts. 

sophia sends the link into the groupchat.

it takes about a minute before the next person texts.

“yeah, you two seem... close. since when?” emily questions.

you stare at the messages, your heart skipping a beat. you don’t want to explain everything over the phone, not like this. you quickly type back, keeping it vague. 

“we’ve just been getting along really well recently.” 

a couple of the girls reply with skeptical emojis, and you know they’re not buying it, but after a few playful jabs and questions, they let it go. for now.

when the end of the month arrives, you have to pack up and leave lena for a few weeks to join your national team for friendlies against australia. you hate leaving her, especially since you’ve gotten so used to spending every day together, but she’s supportive, grinning as she wraps you in a tight hug before you go.

“go kick some ass, okay?” she whispers in your ear, patting your lower back before you leave for the airport, her breath warm on your neck. 

“i’ll be here when you get back. and we’ll make up for lost time.”

“promise?” you murmur, hugging her even tighter.

“always,” lena says softly, and with one last kiss, you head out the door.

during the camp, you and lena text constantly, squeezing in messages and video calls whenever you can. 

you send her pictures from training, she sends you updates on her rehab and cute videos of rookie, and each time your phone lights up with a message from her, you find yourself smiling like an idiot. 

one day, you’re sitting in the locker room, scrolling through your phone with a huge grin on your face, when emily nudges you, peering over your shoulder. 

“okay, spill,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “who’s got you smiling like that?”

you hesitate, but there’s no point hiding it anymore. “it’s... lena,” you admit, still smiling. “she’s... my girlfriend.”

the room goes quiet, and you look around to see varying reactions—trinity, mallory, sam, and emily fox have their mouths open in surprise, emily sams, sophia and naomi are beaming happily, and tierna and crystal exchange knowing looks. 

you can see the questions forming behind their eyes, and it doesn’t take long for them to start asking.

“wait, like... lena lena? the same lena who you—”

“—yeah, the one who made you so mad at the world cup?”

you laugh nervously, holding your hands up to stop the barrage of questions. “yeah, yeah, that lena. and... i know it sounds crazy, but... she’s changed. and so have i. we worked through all of that, and i actually... i really like her. a lot. it wasn’t easy, but... we found our way to this, and it’s... it’s good. really good.”

ashley, who was there for the infamous world cup outburst, shakes her head in disbelief but with a grin on her face. “so... what happened? how did it go from... all that to... this?”

you shrug, still smiling as you think about the months leading up to this moment. “i mean... a lot happened. we started spending more time together at bayern, and... i saw a different side of her. she wasn’t the person i thought she was. i guess we both... let our guards down, y’know? i finally saw her as someone other than a rival, and... she saw me as more than just the person to beat.”

“and now she’s making videos of you doing dumbbell steps,” lindsey jokes, and the room erupts in laughter.

the friendlies against australia go well—your national team wins both matches, and you score a goal in each. throughout the games and celebrations, lena is always on your mind. you keep texting, sending voice messages late at night when you can’t sleep, laughing at each other’s dumb jokes. 

being apart is hard, but it only makes you more excited to see her again.

when you finally get back to germany, lena is waiting for you at the bayern training facility, leaning casually against the wall with that familiar smile on her face. 

she wraps you up in her arms the second you step through the door, and it feels like coming home. after weeks apart, being in her arms is everything you needed.

you’re back to training almost immediately, and the first thing lena suggests is some light running on the treadmill. 

“all the girls need to get a bit of cardio in,” she says with a shrug, a playful glint in her eyes.

you go along with it, not thinking much of it as you step onto the treadmill next to her. but then, as you start jogging, lena steps onto the treadmill beside you—and you nearly fall off yours in shock.

“what are you doing?” you say, panic rising in your voice. 

“lena, you know you can’t run yet—you’re going to mess up your knee!”

but lena just laughs, picking up the pace to a slow jog, looking completely unbothered. “that’s the thing,” she says, grinning widely as she matches your running speed. 

“i can run. i got cleared last week.”

your eyes widen as the realization hits, and you come to an abrupt stop, hopping off the treadmill and grabbing her arm to make her stop too. 

“are you serious?” you ask, your voice breaking into an excited laugh as you look at her, trying to figure out if she’s joking.

“dead serious,” lena says, her face lighting up with pure joy as she stops beside you. 

“i can run again, y/n. i’m getting back.”

you don’t think; you just act, pulling her into the tightest hug you can manage, burying your face in her neck as the happiness rushes through you. 

“oh my god, lena, that’s... that’s amazing,” you say, holding her close, feeling like your heart might burst from how proud you are of her.

“surprise,” she whispers, laughing softly against your ear as she wraps her arms around you. and you hold her even tighter, knowing that this is only the beginning.

masterlist

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

Teach Me.

D.R.W x S.F.K x Reader

Author’s Note: This is my Christmas gift to y'all! I've put together a full version of the two part Wild Wednesday posts I wrote recently. I really am so proud of how these came out and I wanted to put it into an easy read so you didn’t have to scour my WW tags and risk it just kinda falling to the ether. I may do this again in the future, depending on how this goes.

Synopsis: Being in a relationship with Danny and both of you having long lasting sexual tension with Danny 's best friend, Sam. A beautiful night of showing Sam what makes you and Danny feel good.

Word Count: 2.7K (quick and easy threesome)

Pairing: Danny x Sam x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Foul language, oral, threesome, light dom/sub, raw sex (Wrap it before you tap your boyfriend and his best friend)

Teach Me. -D.R.W x S.F.K x F. Reader

All I can picture is being friends with Sam and dating Danny. Always having this constant sexual tension between you, and seeing it also with Danny and his best friend. After a drunken evening with Danny, you find out that Sam and him kissed on New Years once. It was a one time thing, but it felt good. You keep thinking about the idea of Sam and Danny kissing, and you wish to be in the middle of it one day.

Somehow, some way, you find yourself in the middle of your fantasy. Danny loves showing you off to Sam, showing what makes you feel good, and you can't help but pipe up. "Can I show you what makes Danny feel good, Sammy?" You ask, standing there in the middle of the bedroom, both Sam and Danny watching you. "Yes, please." He whispers, a little nervously.

"Sit on the edge of the bed. Both of you." You ask teasingly. The friend's look at each other before sitting, you can't help but look at them like this. So toned, soft skin, side by side, hard and wanting. You drop to your knees between Danny's legs, moving your hair aside. "He loves to watch the way I suck his cock." You smile at Sam as you take Danny's hard member in your hand. "I pump his cock slowly at first." You say as you demonstrate, Sam's eyes glued to your motions. "Then I lick his tip just like this." You let your tongue gently lap at Danny's tip, relishing in the attention as Danny moans, letting his head fall back. "Then I take him into my mouth, like this." You whisper, before leaning in and taking Danny's cock down your throat, slowly taking him inch by inch. Danny groans, his hand in your hair as you bob your head up and down on him.

"Fuck." Sam breathes, his hand slowly pumping his own cock. You slowly come up and off Danny's dick and look up at Sam, "You wanna try?" You smile up at him sweetly, heart slamming in your chest. "I can show you, again." You tease as you make your way between Sam's thighs, replacing his hand with your hand, wrapping around his achingly hard cock. It's so pretty, soft and warm against your palm. "I think you should show him baby, Sammy's a visual learner." Danny smirks as he leans in and kisses Sam's neck. Sam's eyes roll back in his head as he loses himself for a moment, sandwiched between his two friends. "Pay attention, Sammy." Danny whispers in his ear. "Yes, sir." Sam quips, a lazy stoner smile on his face.

Both boys look back at you. "I touch him just like this." You say, pumping slowly, watching Sam's thighs flex at your touch. "Then I lick his tip like this." "Mhmm," Sam's voice shakes as he watches Danny's hands playing with his nipples. You let your tongue explore the soft expanse of Sam's tip, loving the feeling of salty precum on your tongue. "That's my good girl." Danny grins as you pull off, letting a gentle bit of spit cover his tip and down his length. "Then take him deeper into your mouth." You repeat, bringing your open mouth down Sam's cock, pumping the rest into your mouth as you begin to take Sam's dick into your throat. Moaning around him as you do. "Fuck sake." Sam breathes, his hand tentatively touching your hair. "Go ahead Sam, show her how much you like it." Danny assures. Sam moves his hand into your hair, so gentle still as he moves your hair to the side and guides you along his length, your nails raking up his thigh as you do so. "God, you're so pretty." Danny whispers to you, "So pretty." Sam agrees gingerly.

Sam surprises you by guiding you off of him, "Can I try? Please?" He asks eagerly. Your eyes glisten from taking him deep, "Mhm." You respond, excited to watch. You move to be next to Danny's knee, watching as your boyfriend follows Sam's movements to be on his knees in front of him. You move Sam's hands up to relax on Danny's thighs. "Start here, be sweet and kiss here." You whisper in his ear, watching as goosebumps raise on Sam's skin. His hands relax onto both Danny's thighs, gently feeling the muscles underneath. He leans in and places tender kisses against the skin of both inner thighs. "Good boy." Danny coos, hand gently running over Sam's cheek to his jaw, thumb turning over his bottom lip, slowly. You could cut the tension with a knife.

"And you do just what I showed you." You whisper, watching as Sam moves a hand to Danny's cock. "So soft." Sam murmurs to himself, getting acquainted with the feeling. Danny sighs as he watches Sam pump his cock lazily at first, increasing in speed just a tad. Sam leans in on his own, gently kitten licking at Danny's cock. Danny lets out a hiss as he tries to control himself, locking eyes with Sam. You can't help but begin to touch yourself as you watch, just taking in the sight as Sam lets a little bit of saliva dribble down Danny's shaft, wetting it for his hand and bringing his mouth down the length. "Go slow, pretty boy." You whisper, moving closer to Sam, eyes on Danny as you reach around and tug on Sam's own cock. A moan reverberating from Sam's throat and around Danny, making Danny groan, his eyes flutter shut for just a moment.

"Good boy, Sammy." You whisper, your hand slowly pumping his cock, making him sigh as he begins to take more of Danny. "Fuck, Sam." Danny's hand relaxes into Sam's hair, he gently takes his hair up into a makeshift ponytail, using it to guide him up and down.

Sam gags a bit on Danny's cock, but presses on, a tear rolling down his cheek. "There he is, good job sweet boy, keep going, just like that." You rasp against his ear, pumping him faster now. You can tell Danny is close, the way he moans, how his head falls back, his lips parted. "Come on Sammy, wanna watch you cum." You smile as your thumb rolls over the tip of his hard cock, Sam hums around Danny's length, making Danny's grip in Sam's hair tighten. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck." Danny mumbles out, "Want to watch you swallow it all." You say, egging Danny and Sam on, knowing just how bad they each want it.

Sam pumps Danny's cock into his mouth, using his hand for what he can't fit in his throat. "Baby the tip of his cock, Sammy. I know he loves it." You advise, also doing the same thing to Sam with your hand. You watch as he arches his back, moaning around the tip of Danny's cock.

Danny's hand is like a vice grip on Sam's hair, holding him still as he cums down Sam's throat. Sam eagerly swallows it all, every last drop, "Oh Sam. Oh fuck Sam." Danny whimpers as he cums, Sam can't help it, cumming in your hand. He pulls his mouth away, moaning and whining as he cums hard for you both.

You can't help but grin as you look at these two gorgeous men. Sam wraps his arms around Danny, his head in his lap, Danny hunched over Sam, playing with his hair as they both catch their breaths. "So good. You tasted so good." Sam whispers, turning to look up at Danny. Danny kisses Sam deeply, tasting himself on his best friend's tongue. Danny hums against his lips. "Had a good teacher." Sam breathes, looking at you. You blush, moving closer to the two of them.

Sam kisses you before giving you to Danny to kiss. "So can we do this again, soon?" You ask looking to them. "Of course. I gotta know what makes you tick next." Sam smiles against your neck. "Why wait?" Danny speaks, kissing your neck. 

"No time like the present. My girl has done such a good job, being so sweet to both of us, I think she deserves some of our attention, don't you think Sammy?" Danny coos in your ear, kissing up your neck, his hand cradling your jaw. "Mm, the teacher becomes the subject." Sam smirks, kissing up the other side of your neck. You feel like you could burst into flames with the way their touches feel on your body. "Y-Yes please." You submit without a fight, not wanting to wait for your turn after being so terribly teased from watching Sam suck off your boyfriend.

"You're gonna love playing with her, she's such a good girl for me. You're gonna be a good girl for Sam, baby?" Danny asks, turning your face to him, your eyes hooded with lust. "Yes, sir. I can be good." You whisper, a subtle quiver in your voice, you can hardly wait. "Good, pretty girl." Danny whispers against your lips, kissing you deep. He pulls away from you, looking over to Sam, "You want to ask her to lay down, Sammy? I don't think our girl deserves to wait any longer." Danny says, ever the mind reader.

"Lay down, pretty girl." Sam smiles, lending you a hand to help you onto the bed. You relax into the pillows, your heart slamming in your chest. The two boys kneel on either side of your body, their eyes feasting over your figure. You should feel semi nervous, but you can't help but feel so safe. You know they only want to make you feel good. Danny's hand runs up your inner thigh, up to your pussy. You sigh out a moan, "Oh Sammy, she needs it bad." Danny smirks as his fingers run up from your pussy to your clit, the collective wetness on Danny's fingertips make your mind melt as he begins to swirl your clit under his middle finger with ease. "Just feel how wet she is for us." Danny invites Sam closer, his hand dragging along the expanse of your inner thigh. You spread your legs wider, showing off just how much you need it. Sam's fingers glide gently inside of you, you moan as his long, slender fingers press ever so slowly inside of you. "Oh fuck." Sam whispers, his cock bounces, so hard with need again. "You're soaked." Sam smiles, his eyes holding yours, you can't help but blush. The sound of your own wetness fills the room as Sam's fingers slowly move in and out. "That's my girl." Danny smiles at you, his fingers on your clit combined with Sam's make you cry out, your eyes fluttering shut as your hips buck.

"Not yet, baby doll. We're just getting started." Danny grins, his hand moving away, prompting Sam to follow suit. You can't help but whimper in frustration. "Danny, please." You whine, your thighs pressing together for some sort of relief. "Spread your legs baby, let me show Sam how you like to cum on my face." Danny asks softly.

You follow his order, letting Danny lay between your legs, making himself at home while Sam moves closer to your hip so he can watch. Danny's hands run softly up your legs and rest on your thighs, his eyes closed as he kisses you on your thighs. "She likes it when you start slow, don't you, baby?" Danny speaks quietly between your thighs. The warm air from his lips makes you practically buzz with excitement. "Yes, sir." You smile shyly. "Kiss her just like this, she feels so soft and warm." Danny explains, kissing you sweetly, pressing wet, lazy kisses up both inner thighs. "Then, slowly, bring your tongue up through her folds." Danny says, his tongue gently trailing up your wetness, making you sigh gently at the sensation of his cool tongue. "You see? She loves it. Don't you, princess?" You nod quickly, "Mhmm." You whine. "Then a few more times, just like that." Danny says to Sam, almost ignoring your whimpers. Danny's hands go to your hips, pulling you closer, your legs propping up out of habit, giving Danny a place to bring his hands, pulling your thighs to lay against his shoulders. "See? She knows how she wants it." Danny smirks to Sam, who is now lazily pumping himself as he watches. Danny closes his eyes, his tongue moving quicker on your clit, your back arches as he hums out a moan against you. Sam lends a hand to Danny, moving hair away from his face. It makes you go crazy watching them like this.

Soon, Danny pulls away and sits back up, kneeling next to Sam. "You wanna make my girl cum for you?" Danny asks Sam. Sam nods quickly, "God, yes, please." Sam answers. The two trade places, and you're already a dizzy mess. "Kiss her thighs, get her comfortable." Danny says, his eyes flitting up to you, his hand on your calf as he watches from your side so he can watch.

Sam kisses your thighs, his eyelashes tickle as he looks up at you and then over to Danny. He follows Danny's instructions, moving his tongue to your pussy, licking gently through them. You and Sam both sigh softly, "She does taste good." Sam murmurs, almost to himself. You can't help but blush as Sam loses himself in tasting you. Lapping you up, ever so gently. "Faster Sammy, right against her clit, she'll-" as Sam follows Danny's prompt, your hand moves into Sam's hair, your legs spreading open. "She'll do that." Danny grins as your hand tightens in Sam's hair, earning a moan from Sam. "Good boy." Danny whispers before kissing Sam on the shoulder.

It feels so good, your legs begin to shake, "Oh god Sam." You cry out, "There you go Sammy, latch your lips around her clit and suck." Danny comments, Sam follows. You cry loudly, eyes squeezed shut as your legs clamp around Sam's head. Sam moans as he presses his hips against the mattress, "She's close, dig your fingers into her hips and pull her closer, she tries to fight it but she knows she's close." Danny eggs Sam on, knowing just how you like it. Sam's hands grip tightly to you, his tongue flat as he moves his head back and forth, Danny's hand on the back of Sam's head, whispering in his ear, "Good boy, just like that."

You are losing your mind, crying out Sam's name. Danny tells Sam to move his fingers inside of you, filling you up while he laps quickly at your clit. You can feel your release coming fast, Sam's long fingers brushing deep inside you while his plump lips latch around your clit. Your grip in his hair is tight as your hips buck, but Sam's mouth never leaves you. "There she is. Good girl, let it go. Let him taste it. Let Sammy feel you on his tongue." Danny says, his voice like silk in your ears. You can't stop until you cum all over Sam's mouth, "Don't over stimulate her, just let her come down slowly, lap it up gentle and slow." Danny says softly, his hands caressing your face and moving your hair from your forehead. "Such a good girl for us. Always so good." Danny whispers to you, kissing your cheek, up to your lips.

You search for your breath in the haze. Losing grip on what's real. Sam lays against your thigh, just like how he did Danny's. You play with Sam's hair as you both come back to life. Sam slowly sits up, lips, cheeks, and chin shining with your cum. Danny smiles, pulling Sam into a kiss with his hand holding Sam's jaw. "She tastes good on your tongue." Danny whispers against his friend's mouth.

Sam moves to you, laying beside your form, kissing you deeply, his tongue in your mouth, letting you taste yourself. "Mmm." You hum against his lips. The three of you lay in a heap, you cuddled in-between your lovers, their hands softly wandering your body. "You did so good, Sam." You smile, your fingers running through Sam's hair, he grins at you. "I had a good teacher."

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Tag list:

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(If you'd like to be added or your handle has changed lmk!)

[wakebymoonsleepbysun]

My breakdown of the Doey timeline, cuz whynot

Combination of my own theories/conjecture and what's actually in the game.

We see Jack getting a Doey toy for Christmas of 92, as well as a trip to the factory. The trip to the factory happens in Jan of 93 and of course Jack falls in.

This makes Jack an unplanned experiment. My theory--since he wasn't trained/prepped in the Game Station or Playcare, and the scientists had to kinda scramble to get anything salvageable of him, that left proto-Doey in a pretty bad/unstable state.

The fact that he had a Doey toy that he already loved so much could be what saved him. Kids are shown to have "assigned toys" at the Game Station, which makes me think a bond with the character/toy is necessary for the kids to adapt to their new bodies, and maybe even make the child take on personality traits of the toy's character.

1322 was too unstable to survive on his own. So another child was selected--Kevin. It seems the scientists hoped Kevin's physical strength would balance out Jack's lack of physical training before the process, and Jack's good temper would balance out Kevin's (perceived) bad one. (I think there's more to Kevin than just "angry child angry and violent at everything". I think he was abused and probably neurodivergent, maybe autistic. Probably on the cusp of a very rough puberty as well. But as a 90s "problem child" myself, I'm not surprised he was just dismissed as a bad kid with no hope. Heartbroken, yes. Surprised? No.)

Sidenote here--I do wonder if they'd gotten the idea of using multiple subjects in the same experiment from the Prototype. Not sure if that would have been something the Prototype would have been doing yet at this point. But I do think it's interesting to call out that the Prototype is not the only experiment made from multiple sources. (I think Poppy may also be such a one but that's some wild conjecture on my part and a post for another day.)

We know Kevin is second because he's described as 1322B. However I think the incident with Jack's parents happened before Matthew was added.

Jack's parents get invited to see Doey. Now, who wrote that letter and why? I'm not completely sure on the details, but I think the main reason it got APPROVED was for the sake of conducting a test. I think it's POSSIBLE someone like Stella may have been making a genuine attempt to do good, but that wouldn't've been reason enough on its own to make this happen.

So Jack's parents rock up to Playtime so the scientists can see how 1322 will react. We've all heard the tape so we know the jist of it, but here's what I think happened internally with Doey. Jack and Kevin's personalities and memories were still muddled. Kevin saw Jack's mom, recognized her as "mom", not realizing she is NOT actually HIS mother. I believe his parents had been abusive, so what Kevin THOUGHT he was doing was fighting back at his own abusers, not some other kid's kind parents. Between that and being in a body he could barely control with a strength he can barely comprehend...Well. Again. We all heard the tape.

So, time to stabilize. Enter Matthew. Responsible, kind, and older. Perfect to wrangle the two younger boys into a fully functioning experiment, ready to be useful to Playtime co. (I kinda gagged typing that. Playtime Co is bastards.)

And y'know? I'd say it mostly worked. From his monologues in the prison, it sounds like Doey wasn't always the most cooperative. He had a bit of a mischievous streak. But I get the impression he didn't lash out or attack until Safe Haven was destroyed. And who wouldn't be broken by that?

[thought--bubble]

Confusion

Modern Aemond X Ex GF Reader

Word Count:1,520

For the 12 days of smuffmas (Prompts by @ewanmitchellcrumbs)

December 19th - holly and hair pulling - Lost motivation to post but I wrote them so they will all be posted eventually lmao

Smuffmas Masterlist

Modern Aemond Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Warnings: Dirty Smutty smut (P in V), Hairpulling, Rude Aemond, Some angsty angst.

You walk into Helaena's townhouse, knocking the snow off the bottom of your shoes. “I can't believe I agreed to come here,” you complain to yourself as you hang up your jacket.

Helaena was your friend first; at uni, she had been your rock, your confidante, and your very strange friend who always collected bugs.

“You're here!” she squeaks from the entryway to her living room, clapping her hands wildly. “I'm so happy!”

You smile and chuckle. “Course I am. Wouldn't miss it.” You hang your jacket on the coat rack and prepare yourself to enter the living room.

As soon as you round the corner, there he is: your stupid ex-boyfriend. He's dressed in nice dress trousers and a white button-up, shiny black shoes, his long silver hair partially tied back while the rest falls down around his shoulders.

His one good eye follows you as you enter the room, saying your hellos to everyone.

“Aemond,” you say with a brief nod of your head. You have to at least acknowledge his presence, right?

Naturally, he doesn't feel the same and simply sips his drink, ignoring you altogether.

You bristle at his blatant disregard for your existence and huff. “Figures,” you mumble under your breath as you start to walk away.

“What was that?” His voice grates on your nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard.

You turn back to him and open your mouth, scathing words of frustration balancing on the tip of your tongue.

Instead, you grit your teeth and plaster a saccharine smile on your face. You won't give him the satisfaction of setting you off at Helaena's party.

“Happy Christmas, Aemond.”

Aemond raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk that makes your stomach twist. “Happy Christmas? Is that what you think this is? A cheerful reunion?” His voice drips with sarcasm.

You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, but you refuse to let him see how much his words affect you. Instead, you focus on the festive decorations around the room: string lights twinkling, stockings hung by the fireplace, and a massive garland of holly draped along the mantle.

“Is that the best you can do?” you retort, crossing your arms. “Because if we’re playing the Christmas spirit game, I think I’m winning.”

Aemond smirks again, taking another sip of his drink, clearly enjoying your irritation. “Winning? Please. Is this your attempt at a Christmas miracle? Trying to prove you’re over me?”

You roll your eyes, feeling the urge to throw a nearby decoration at him. Instead, you take a deep breath, reminding yourself of your promise not to lose control at Helaena’s party. You turn to leave, but the moment you do, you feel a gentle tug at your hair, pulling you back to him, your back hitting his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, his voice low and teasing.

“I’m going to enjoy the party without your charming company,” you snap, trying to maintain your composure despite the way your heart races at his proximity.

“No, you're not.” He brings his mouth to the side of your exposed neck, his hand still buried in your locks, his other sliding up your side until he reaches your waist. “We have things to discuss.”

“Oh no, we do not!” you hiss, your voice nearly a whisper. “We did all of our talking. Time for talking is done.”

“Fine,” he barks back through gritted teeth. “No more talking.” He grips your hair tightly and wraps his arm around your back, leading you out of the room.

“Everything alright?” Helaena asks softly as the two of you pass her in the doorway.

“Yes,” Aemond answers briskly for the both of you.

He walks you up the stairs of Helaena's cute little townhouse.

“Aemond!” you hiss quietly. “I'm not trying to go upstairs and argue with you all night!”

Aemond chuckles lowly. “Who said a damn thing about arguing?”

He pulls you into the guest bedroom, and you can't help but look around the room. Helaena had made the room so beautiful. Garland around the bed banisters and holly adorned the doorway.

“What else would we do in here?” you sneer, fully fed up with Aemond's bullshit.

“I can think of a few things.” He lets your hair go and turns you around to face him.

Your throat suddenly goes dry, your lips sticking together. “Aemond…”

“Hmmm…” He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, breathing deeply. “I love the sound of my name coming out of that pretty little mouth of yours.”

He grazes his lips across the soft skin of your neck, sending goosebumps shooting down your arm in waves.

“We shouldn't,” you half moan; the hold this man has on you is like nothing else. He can somehow make you feel insane and hot at the same time.

“Why shouldn't we? Hmmm?” He starts to unzip your dress slowly yet with purpose. This dress is coming off one way or another.

“It could confuse things.” You let out a breathy sigh as your dress pools around your heels.

“I'm not confused.” Aemond lifts you by your thighs; you should refuse, tell him to stop. Yet instead, you wrap your arms around his neck, and each step toward the bed fills you with heat, your core already clenching around nothing before he has even touched you.

“Are you confused?” He lays you down on the bed, sliding your thong down your legs.

You nod and pull your ankles from the thin material, helping Aemond in his pursuit.

“Then let me clear a few things up for you.” He spreads your thighs and slots himself between them, still fully clothed.

He pushes his hardened length against you as he unbuttons his crisp white shirt. “I'm going to fuck you.”

You take a deep breath and watch as each button comes loose until his shirt is pushed open. You run your hands over the harsh planes of his chest, your fingers tracing the scars littered upon his body from his years of weapons training.

He grips your thighs, holding them tight to his hips. “I'm going to lose myself inside this tight little cunt.” He loosens his belt and unbuttons his trousers, pushing the material down to his thighs.

“And you, my darling girl, are going to enjoy it.” He frees his hardened cock from his boxers, stroking it slowly before sliding the tip from your opening up to your throbbing nub and back down again.

“So are you still confused?” he rasps into your ear as he eases himself inside you.

“No!” you gasp, your back arching up into him without your permission.

“Good girl.” He holds your thighs up around his hips as he begins to thrust in earnest, savoring each drag of his rigid cock against your soft walls.

“I should have known,” he chuckles cruelly, picking up the pace, the sound of his hips slapping against the underside of your thighs loud and unforgiving.

“That all you needed was some cock. All that talking bollocks-” he groans, leaning his head back, “a waste of time; my slutty girl just needed a good fucking.”

You grasp at his hips, your fingernails digging into his porcelain skin. You urge him to go faster, harder- something, anything; you just want more.

He grunts, the force of his thrusts pushing you up the bed. “Beg me to cum inside this tight little cunt,” he demands, his one pupil blown, his lips curled up in a snarl.

“Please, Aemond,” you whimper, your voice cutting out at the impact of a particularly hard thrust.

“What?” he growls, his thrusts sharper and quicker. He brings his hand between you, rubbing hard, quick circles around your nub.

“Ah ah! Fuck, Aemond!” You claw at his back as your toes curl. “Cum inside me, please.” Your head falls back on the bed, your thighs tightening around him like a clamp. Your head lolls against the pillow as you babble incoherent words, your eyes open wide as your pleasure hits you hard- a tingle that shoots from your core and down to your toes.

“Aemond!” You open your mouth in a silent scream as he jackhammers against you, chasing his own release.

“Almost there,” he grunts before he stills, a loud groan rumbling from his chest. “That's it,” he whispers into your ear as he collapses on top of you, the weight of his spent body pushing you down into the mattress.

You hum contentedly and stroke his hair, staring up at the ceiling. The problems between you still remain, but in this moment, you're happy to just hold him close.

He rolls off you and smiles. “That was bloody brilliant.”

You sigh before rolling your head to the side. “We still need to talk, Aemond.” You reach for his hand, but he slips it out of your grasp, instead rolling himself back on top of you.

“What did I say about all of that talking bollocks?” He grins before bringing his face back to the crook of your neck. “I guess I'll have to explain it again.”

[cryptidvaquero]

There's a Hole Where Something Was (Adler x Bell! Reader)

A/N: Omg am I actually uploading a fic rn? Yes, yes I am. I wrote this on Christmas day a few weeks ago under the title "A Very Solovetsky Christmas" because I'm lame. I ended up not finishing it, but I polished off the end and figured I'd post it here bc idk if I want to upload it to my ao3.

Warnings: Russell Adler (?), mentions of gunshot wounds/near-death experiences

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

You never thought you’d end up back here. Maybe it was supposed to bring you closure, but the sight of that rocky cliff just sits heavy in your chest. Not bitter, not angry, not venerated. Just… heavy. Like you know you should feel worse about this than you actually do. Waves crash against the shoreline below you. You spare a glance over the cliff’s edge. Distantly, the thought remains in your head: That could have been the last thing I saw. Maybe there could have been peace in that. Solovetsky is a pretty place. Maybe if you had chosen to die there way back when, it would have been quite nice.

It’s juvenile, but you kick a few rocks over the edge, watching them tumble and fall into the frothy sea below.

“Everything you ever wanted, Bell?” Adler’s boots crunch on the snow, packing it down as he follows your path to the cliff’s edge. Perhaps it’s the only time he’s ever followed you. Usually, it’s the other way around. And, admittedly, you’re not sure how you feel about not having Adler in your line of sight, dutifully watching his back. You turn and look at him over your shoulder, an expression of vague amusement making your brow quirk up.

“It’s alright,” you muse. “Cold as hell, though.” The cold bites into your cheeks like a dog snapping at a toy. It won’t let go, won’t ease. Of course, you wore a balaclava the last time you were here; no wonder it feels colder.

Adler’s nursing a cigarette, as always. The wind drifts the smoke in your direction, a tantalizing warmth to the plumes that make your mouth water. It’s gotten harder and harder to stay away from the pack these days. You joke to Adler that it’s because the brainwashing is wearing off, and his smirk usually turns tight-lipped.

But had it really? You still see flickers of Vietnam on television screens. Red doors still make you shiver. You haven’t kept up with your shots since then, either. And, of course, you’re still watching Adler’s back. Either you’ve always been this crazy, or Adler’s made you a pretty good case study of codependency. There are worse things, you think to yourself. Worse things than being brainwashed?

“You’re the one who asked to come here,” Adler states, his tone blunt. He takes a final drag and flicks out the butt into the snow, stalking to your side. He lets out the breath he was holding, sending more clouds of cigarette smoke through the air and up your nose. Something tells you that it was purposeful.

“I know what I asked for, Russ.” You take a deep breath, just as purposeful. Adler doesn’t fail to notice it, and his hand lands heavily on the back of your neck, giving you a squeeze. Is it affectionate? Maybe it’s more like tugging on an eager dog’s leash.

When you asked him to take you back to Solovetsky, Adler was reading the newspaper. You remember him looking up over the pages, eyeing you (“trying to go for round 2, then?”), and you shrugged (“I don’t need to be in Solovetsky to pull a gun on you, Russ.”)

Why hadn’t you just gone by yourself? No need to drag out Adler. It might just remind him of the shit you’ve been through together - for better, but most likely for worse. You just had to make sure that you hadn’t really met your demise here. Maybe if you took a good look at the untainted ground, you’d realize that the past few years haven’t been another MK-Ultra pipe dream. Maybe if you took Adler with you, he’d be there to reassure you that you’re real, it’s all real, and that you won’t wake up with an aching pain in your eye socket.

Adler’s hand moves to the back of your head, purposefully tilting your face in his direction. He stares at you silently, analyzing you. You wonder if he hears a bell ring when you make eye contact with him. You wonder if your mouth should water every time you see him, waiting for your treat.

Eventually, he speaks.

“How’s your shoulder feel?”

Your brows furrow together in confusion. When you tilt your head, trying to discern what he means, Adler’s other hand pokes you in the shoulder, right over your gunshot scar.

Right. Just had to rub it in.

“You’re one for subtlety, huh? Fuck off, my shoulder feels fine.”

He chuckles, surprisingly. Earning a laugh from the ‘mysterious’ Russell Adler is a rare and coveted achievement. At least, for you it is. There shouldn’t be anything funny about being shot in the shoulder, but the outcome hasn’t been so bad.

At least, compared to the alternative.

[rewh0re]

PATIENCE ; NANAMI KENTO

—wc: 1.9k, angst, canon compliant, death, nanami is married (to you) and has a child (with you), implied female reader (mrs and mama used), fluffy in the beginning dw, crying yuuji hmm that's it :D REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!!

—a/n: i have an exam and I'll prolly be posting it right before that so...yea lwk I wrote this cuz I was so fucking stressed but anyways enjoy:D

pic creds: pinterest

Patience.

Patience was never something you would say you were good at. You had always been a very impatient being since you were but a mere child. You would always tap your feet and whine while waiting for your food to be served as a child which often led to some disciplinary words from your parents. You would sit at the edge of your seat in movie halls, waiting impatiently for the climax of the movie. You could never hold your excitement when it came to receiving presents on events such as birthdays or christmas. You simply couldn't.

“Never lose patience, y/n. Great things always come to those who are patient enough to wait,” your father had once told you, holding your tender, childish hands softly in his. You had promised then to practice your patience.

Then came Nanami Kento. Nanami came into your life when you were almost done being patient with finding love. You had waited and waited and done nothing but waited to be loved and adored passionately, to be treated with gentleness and care and all the affection that the world could provide. For the longest time it felt like the universe did not want that for you. Men after men who you had held nothing but love for had left you stranded and lovelorn, a crying mess at three in the night with your romantic heart broken in pieces. Shattered even.

Then came the man who showed you what it was like to be loved unconditionally. Meeting the love of your life at a bakery was something you believed happened only in fiction. But it happened to you and after what felt like an eternity, you could say you felt grateful due to your patience. 

Nanami was a simple man. He worked a corporate job with a salary that got him by. He hated working overtime because it took away the time that he would rather spend lounging around with you in the comfort of your home. 

He later told you he was a jujutsu sorcerer and all you could take out from that conversation was that being a jujutsu sorcerer is a very difficult job. But he was strong—he told you—not the strongest, that title was held by his annoying senior but strong enough. You did not know if that comforted you but he came home every night. He came home to you and the moment he held you in his arms, all your worries dissipated into thin air.

He baked when he was anxious which you learnt quite late. For example, he baked cupcakes before he proposed marriage to you. You did not know the occasion that entailed the many cupcakes kept on your table with a very distressed Nanami at the table. It was only when he dropped the ring while asking you to marry him that you knew that under all his cool and poised persona, your Kento was quite clumsy. You said yes, ofcourse. The next incident you remember of your husband baking would be when you were going into labour. It was a chaotic scene, it was your due date, and Kento was immensely stressed. So, like any stressed person would do, he started baking a chocolate cake. And as endearing as it was, in the middle of it you went into labour and your husband was frantic. Well, at least your daughter came into the world that day and nothing could beat the relief and happiness that washed over Nanami’s face as he held the little sleeping baby in his arms.

“I love you. I love you so much and I love our little girl, no one else matters,” he rubbed the back of your hand as he kissed your forehead.

“We love you too. So much. Thank you for teaching me patience for it led me to you,” you beamed up at him and he smiled at you and that was all that mattered. Your family.

Thus, you learnt patience while being with Nanami. For once you held your father’s belief, that great things do happen to those who are patient enough to wait.

It was Halloween of 2018 when your patience was tested once again. Your daughter loved Halloween and she loved spending it with her father. For the two years that she had been on earth, she and your husband decorated your home with jack-o-lanterns and candles and streamers and what not. Your husband was a great storyteller with how he enraptured your daughter with his stories. 

It turned out your daughter inherited your trait of impatience for she could not wait for her father to return from his important work so that they could finally go trick or treating together.

You, on the other hand, were impatient for a different reason. You were worried. It was a vague call saying Kento was needed immediately at Shibuya due to urgent business. He denied relaying the exact cause of his dispersal but you were smart enough to understand that it was something related to the jujutsu world. The first sign of worry came when he didn't tell you the exact reason. 

“Where are you going, dada?” your daughter held Nanami’s leg, looking up at him with curious eyes.

“Dada has important work, baby. Celebrate with mama and then we three will watch anything you wish to when i return, okay?” he crouched down to her level, gently patting her head.

“Promise you will return soon?” your daughter held out her pinky, a toothless grin making its way on her face.

Hesitance was clear on your husband’s face as he gulped and did his best to smile. That was the second sign of worry.

Nanami linked his pinky with his little beam of sunshine, “I will try my best sweetheart.”

And that was all the reassurance your daughter needed as she ran back to her candy stash in the kitchen. It wasn't enough for you.

“Kento, will you be okay? I’m worried,” you held onto his wrist unable to look up.

You felt his finger on your chin tipping up your face as your teary eyes met his.

“I will try my best to finish this as soon as I can and return to you both,” he gently kissed your temple in a comforting manner but nothing about the situation felt even remotely comforting.

“Promise me you will come home safe Kento,” you touched your forehead to his, looking him in his eyes.

“I have never lied to you and I never will y/n. I cannot make a promise whose surety I cannot guarantee. I love you and I love our daughter and I will try my best to return home to the both of you,” he whispered and you wanted to understand his situation, but you were scared.

“Do you absolutely have to go?” the tears fell from your eyes as he engulfed you in the tightest hug. 

That was the longest he had hugged you and it felt like all his being was screaming that no, he did not want to go but duty calls. You hugged him back just as tightly and the finality of it all did not sit right with you. 

Then with whispered declarations of love from the both of you, he left for his job and it was just you and your daughter.

The third sign of worry washed over you when it was well past eleven at night. You put your daughter to bed amidst her constant crying and whining for Kento and your comforting whispers saying he will return. You could not help but sit at the kitchen, your fingers tapping the marble kitchen island in an impatient manner. Your eyes kept averting to the clock. When would he come back? Your daughter’s soft snores filled the silence along with the clock’s frantic ticking. It was dreadful, nothing about this silence screamed peace. You just wanted your husband to come home and complete your family.

And then the doorbell rang. A sharp ring that echoed throughout the house and for a second relief washed over your body. Kento was home. He returned home. To your daughter. To you. You almost tripped as you ran to open the door.

“Kento it's so late you had me worri—” it was not Kento. Looking at you from the other side of the door was Yuuji. A very bruised and battered Yuuji. His pink hair was a mess with dirt and blood stuck on it. There was a big gash on his face and his clothes were bloodied. 

“Yuuji what…what happened? Are you alright dear? Come in let me clean the wound,” you gently held the boy’s hand and he could not meet your eyes. His lips wobbly and hand limp in your hold.

“Yuuji, is everything alright?” Is Kento alright? That's what you wanted to ask.

“Mrs. Nanami, I am so sorry,” the boy sniffed.

“Is Kento…” you could not say it, saying it would give it a shape, a form, the truth is always a hard pill to swallow.

“I am sorry. He…he wanted you to know that he loves you and your daughter more than anything in the world. It's my fault, I am so sorry. I was useless. I could not save him,” you could not cry in front of a boy who was clearly breaking apart. You could not do it.

It was difficult to process, everything felt unreal. You hoped, wished for Kento to come and say it was just a silly prank and Yuuji agreed to go with it. But none of that happened. It was just you and a broken teenager standing in front of you blaming himself for something that was not his fault. You could not cry. Not now.

So you took the boy in your arms. You hugged Yuuji tightly and gently stroked his hair.

“Thank you for telling me Yuuji. I may not understand much about his work but he loved you. So much. As do I. And as does our daughter. I know none of it was your fault and you must not blame yourself for it, Kento would not want you to. You are just a boy, it will never be your fault. Just know he was proud of you, so am I. Thank you for relaying the news, sweet child,” you kissed his temple and looked him in the eye, a watery smile on your lips.

Nanami and you were parental figures to Yuuji and the last thing you would want was for the boy to blame himself for the inevitable.

You knew you would break once Yuuji left, you would cry in the home you had built and god you did not even want to think about your daughter’s reaction to the news. She was a daddy’s girl after all. But right now you needed to make sure the boy in front of you was okay, he had to go fight again and save the jujutsu world, you could not lose him too. 

So you hugged Yuuji and let a few tears escape your eyes as he sobbed in your arms. You both needed each other. You allowed yourself a moment of company before you would be left alone again, sobbing and breaking at the thought of your husband not coming home. Before you had to tell your daughter and witness her tears and loneliness.

This time patience did not bring something great. This time, patience snatched away the one thing that mattered the most to you.

[freckliedan]

omgomg What hornyposting have they done - same anon :3c

check out my fuck energy tag for receipts on varying levels of overtly horny moments to things that ping for me but possibly not universally. but also, an in depth but not exhaustive list:

they have a bondage bar on their bed which dan has flippantly replied to a tweet about

sister daniel video

the april fools nude

dan probably agrees that phil is naturally ginger despite his hair color being an auburny brown at best due to pube color. sorry that i said it out loud rather than keeping it implied.

interactive introverts shock buzzers shown im witl were bought from an online sex store, dan told us on twitter

halloween pumpkin carving video has "so horny they're stupid" energy, dan's in a mesh shirt

this ii era liveshow in australia; the next video on the gaming channel was of the dumber ways to die mobile app.

ii era "getting that d vitamin" shirtless dan selfie ft clothes in the bushes behind him. photo taken on a brief break from touring when dnp + martyn and cornelia were spending a few days on vacation. "lapping up the d vitamin" comments about phil as well in a liveshow afterwards

phil's ii era side to side by ariana grande insta story

phil's mysterious white stain on his costume shirt insta story from the lead up to ii

"please be gentle with the handcuffs, i have sensitive skin" from witl/ii—sensitive skin is usually about like.. being sensitive to scented soaps and stuff. this is not an intuitive connection to make. it leads me to believe that's knowledge they have from experience

when the ii dvd was released, the bbc rated it whatever it rated it (can't remember) because of a couple engaging in erotic roleplay (amongst other reasons) which dan acknowledged on twitter and did not disagree with at all

dan's horny attitude about dentist visits

handcuffs and videogames sims moment

dan's kinky tumblr reblogs from the era when it was normal to rb softcore porn on here, including a fair amount of horny qbout blood posts

in that light: dan wrote and published the urge

phil bringing up mpreg as often as he does pings as horny for me; the hand falls into this category in a deeply bizzare manner imo

phil recognizing a delivery guy from gay emo porn

dan hogtied in christmas garland on their breakfast bar in manchester

dan's 2009 nakedbooths—nudes posted largely to flirt with phil. particularly the nakedbooth dan posted of himself in phil's bedroom where phil's holding lion in frame to censor dan's dick

phil's "milk" dailybooth

dan's "i WANT you to tie me up" dailybooth comment on phil holding up a belt

dan on formspring answering whether he swallows or spits

dan replying to someone in the comments of a phil vid pointing out hickies he had after dan visited him in 2009

uma thurman tweet

formspring answers about cherry & piña colada lube + cherry reference in the vday vid + sleuths online spotting specific lube in one of their suitcases at one point

phil used to post constant thirst traps before dan came into the picture have you SEEN ry @dnphobe's emo boy edit?? have you seen phil's check yes juliet and toxic vids????

thank you for coming to my ted talk, i know i'm missing loads.

[resurrectionist3]

Timex

Daniel Cleaver x fem!Reader (18+)

✒️ - 12/25/2024 🔏 - 01/08/2025

⏳ - 5,563 words

⚠️CW - 18+ NSFW, oral stimulation (p in mouth), no p in v (yet), general smut, Daniel Cleaver and his sliminess (his presence deserves a warning)

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

📜 - A fairly new hire is getting ready for a very important meeting at her job as the co editor in chief at Pemberley Press. To her surprise, she seems to have lost her favorite wristwatch.

At work, she manages to find it ... on the desk of her most insufferable colleague.

Author's Note - First fan fiction posted to Tumblr, I cannot believe it's for this man. It is actually inspired by the fact that I lost my favorite watch just before Christmas - don't ask how my brain decided to write a fan fiction because of it. I did manage to find it while I wrote this so, that's a win for me. Yes, Frankie is inspired by Francis Abernathy from The Secret History. And yes, the presence of an author named Miles Finch does indeed imply that this fan fiction and this version of Daniel Cleaver do exist in the same universe as the 2003 Christmas comedy film, Elf, starring Will Ferrel. Our beloved Mr. Reed will be here soon, I promise. But I fear I must get this freak out of my system before I can focus on the other one.

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

“Chilly morning in London today, with a high of 4 degrees and a low of -1° tonight! Expect light flurries this evening with-” The cheerful English news reporter said in his routine chatter about the weather forecast. I poured out a decent serving of cat food for my sweet Argo and sat down to my own breakfast. Turning down the television volume and opening my work notebook, I reviewed the notes from the previous day regarding today’s very important meeting, with a very important author. 

I furrowed my brows as I read the author’s scribbled name, Miles Finch, trying to remember where else I had heard of him outside of work. 

My eyes drifted lower on the page to a different name that I had written down - one that made my heart race and my cheeks blush. Daniel Cleaver, my insufferably attractive colleague and co-editor in chief at Pemberley Press. Our boss, Mr. Fitzherbert, thought it would be some wonderful idea for us to work together preparing for this meeting; the loyal employee of several years teaching the new hire ‘all the way from Boston, Massachusetts’. Weeks spent working a little too closely with Daniel, all leading up to today. To be completely honest, it took its toll on me. One can only take so much of him and his arrogance. 

And his smile … his eyes … his voice … his-

“Ugh,” I caught my mind wandering and stopped, nearly choking on my morning coffee. “Enough of that, (y/n).” I said to myself as I stood from the table. 

I carefully chose a CD to play while I got dressed, settling on one burned by my friend back home. The first song, some obscure 80s pop tune, filled my room as I made my way to the closet. 

“Miniskirt and blouse,” I pondered out loud, pulling the outfit from the rack. “Or, black suit dress?”

Eyeing both choices, I tried to decide which outfit would warrant the best response during the meeting. I looked again at the miniskirt momentarily, blushing as I recalled the … effect it seemed to have on my intolerable associate when I last wore it. 

The way Daniel eyed me that entire day was undeniable. I had been rather used to his stares after 6 months of working with him, but that was different. The way he bit his lip as those icy blue eyes wandered to places they definitely shouldn’t…

“No,” I said quickly, dropping the skirt onto my bed. “Absolutely no distractions today. Suit dress it is.”

After finishing my outfit and makeup, I only had a few minutes before I had to leave. I gathered my things, listing off everything important: ‘notebook, car keys, bag, coat, scarf…’

I prattled off  my belongings in my head as I stopped at my vanity one last time. ‘Necklace, rings, wristwatch-’ I named each item as I put it on, but-

‘Wristwatch…?’  I froze mid-list as I realized my favorite watch was nowhere in sight. I opened every drawer, brows furrowed as I searched all over the apartment. I thought of anywhere it could possibly be, and yet, still nothing. 

I stopped and sighed at the new mess I had made in my hunt. Clothes and jewelry strewn over my unmade bed after my unceremonious rummage around. 

‘I wore it yesterday.. I remember that,’  I thought to myself, stood amongst the disarray. ‘Then.. where did it go afterwards?' 

Figuring it would be easily found on my desk at work,  I relented. I took all my things and left the apartment, throwing on my scarf and coat once inside the elevator. 

In the car, my mind drifted back to the watch. After earning this perfect job at Pemberley, I bought anything I wanted. Expensive jewelry, designer clothes, a new car - even my fancy apartment in London after relocating. I could probably buy 7 of the same basic black and gold Timex watch, but this one was special to me. 

“I’m being quite honest, Frankie, I can't find it anywhere,” I sigh over the phone to my best friend. “I looked all over my apartment, all over my work desk, even asked our security guard if he’d seen it. I fear it’s gone.” I slouched a little in my desk chair as I came to my upsetting realization. 

“Please, (y/n), it’s not that serious. It’s a small thing, I’ll buy you a new one if you like.” Frankie said, his voice as cool and unconcerned as always. Franklin Arkwright; assistant to the CEO of our partner publishing company back home in Boston. He was my oldest friend, and the one who managed to get me the job at Pemberley in the first place. 

I stood from my chair and paced about my office, the phone cord pulling as I walked around my desk. “It’s not just a small thing, Frankie. You know how much I love that watch, and I don't enjoy losing my belongings.” My hand went to my (y/hc) hair as I sighed again. I turned around, going to the opposite side of the room when I accidentally locked eyes with him. 

Daniel Cleaver’s office sat inconveniently right beside mine, both spaces walled completely with floor to ceiling glass (I preferred more privacy myself, but the sleek and modern look was just so in these days).

My heart quickened for a moment, sending a strange pulse through my chest as his blue eyes met mine, a smirk appearing on his face. I managed a smile back as he waved, still talking to whoever was on his own phone. He eyed me up and down as he always did, his gaze lingering on my choice of dress; the dress that I suddenly realized had such a low neckline. 

I scoffed and looked away from his irritating stares, my eyes moving to his desk instead. Frankie continued on in my ear about something his mother had said as I scanned the organized mess of Daniel’s workspace. Stacked papers and folders, pens and pencils, a paper coffee cup, my watch, a stapler-

My watch?

My eyes widened at the undeniable sight of my wristwatch sitting on the desk of none other than Daniel fucking Cleaver. The black leather wristband and gold rimmed clock face was recognizable even from where I stood. I looked back up to him as he paced about his own office, talking away on his phone. He seemed either unaware that it was there, or he at least didn't care. 

'How on earth did it get there?’ I thought to myself as I wracked my brain, finally remembering yesterday’s encounter. 

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

In the meeting room, Daniel leaned against the long table as I went over my checklist for a final time. “Right, the presentation is finished, I wrote up my little spiel. Do you have yours ready, Cleaver?” I asked and instantly rolled my eyes as I caught him staring where he shouldn’t. Again. 

“Yes, yes, (y/ln), I’ll get on that straight away,” He said briskly, reluctantly meeting my eyes. I could tell he was very distracted, and likely hadn’t heard a word that I said. 

“Daniel, please just know that if you fuck up this meeting and make a fool of me, I will have your head for it.” I said in a casual voice, returning to my written list.

“Noted. Thank you, (y/ln)” Daniel responded coolly. I caught his eyes wandering again and shot him a glare. Perhaps he felt bad for not listening to me, or more than likely, he was trying to play off his stares as he leaned off the table and walked closer. 

“You know, (y/n), I never noticed how nice your watch is,” He said, tilting his head as he looked at the clock on my wrist. “I think I like it.”

 I furrowed my brows at his out-of-place comment and looked at him skeptically. “Well, I do wear it everyday, Daniel. How have you not mentioned it before?” Daniel just shrugged in response, eyes still on my wrist. 

“The gold suits you quite nicely,” He said pensively, almost as if he didn’t mean to say it out loud. Daniel gently reached out for my hand, and asked for a closer look. Confused, I set down my notebook and pen, taking the watch from my wrist. Our hands brushed momentarily as I set the watch in his palm, making my heart skip annoyingly. As he examined it, I went back to my list and finished going over everything for tomorrow. 

Before I could say another word to Daniel, Mr. Fitzherbert had entered and asked for me. The last thing I remembered was taking my notebook and pen, and hurrying out - leaving my favorite watch with Daniel. Fucking. Cleaver. 

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

“(y/n)...? (Y/N)??” Frankie repeated over the phone, taking me out of my memory. “Are you still there, babe?” 

I let out a laugh and took a breath as I realized I was still on the phone with him. “Y-yea, I’m still here, Frankie.. But I think I should go. I, uhm, I found my watch.”

Without another word, I said goodbye and hung up the phone. Daniel had also finished his own phone call and was standing by the window, reading some documents. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose as I contemplated actually going over there. After all, it IS just a watch. But, it was still my favorite one. 

I readjusted my dress and made my way to Daniel’s office, entering politely. “Afternoon, Mr. Cleaver,” I said with the nicest smile I could manage. “Today’s the day! Big meeting with Miles Finch. I hope you’re ready!” 

Daniel flashed me a smile - that terribly charming smile of his. “Good afternoon to you, Miss (y/ln). To what do I owe this lovely intrusion?” 

From the look he gave me I could tell, he knew what I was there for.  My eyes went from him to my watch, sat right on his desk beside his computer, almost displayed like some kind of trophy. I lost my fake smile and relaxed, crossing my arms. “I’m here to see if you're prepared. And to take my watch back; I’ve been looking for it all morning.” 

Daniel looked confused and taken aback by my statement. “Your watch..? (y/ln), you must be barking, I don’t have your watch.” 

I narrowed my eyes at him and walked towards his desk. I wasn’t in any mood for his games today. “Yes, Daniel. This watch, it’s mine.” I reached out to take it, just as he bent over the desk and picked it up himself. 

“Oh, this watch? Odd, what is it doing here? Are you sure it’s yours?” Daniel said while he examined it just like he did the day prior. I rolled my eyes at him and his antics. 

“Yesterday.. The meeting room? You asked to see it and then I had to go.” I recalled briefly, still irritated with his little act. “I really have been looking for it all morning, I’ve been worried half to death.” 

Daniel’s eyes widened in fake shock. “Half to death? God, (y/ln), it’s just a watch,” He said, turning it over in his hands. “Why do you wear it everyday? It's a bit worse for wear, isn't it? Scratches in the glass here, creasing in the wristband. And, oh dear, is that a crack? Surely, they pay you enough to buy a nicer one.” 

I glared at him from the other side of his desk and huffed in anger. “It’s very special to me, Daniel. My dear friend, Frankie, gave it to me before I left home to move here. It used to belong to him; he knew I loved it so much,” I stopped myself and sighed. Something told me that it was futile to try and explain the emotional value of a wristwatch to someone like Daniel Cleaver. “It’s .. sentimental. Perhaps you’d understand if you had friends of your own, now I’d like to have it back please.” 

The emphasis on my statement didn't seem to matter as Daniel just smiled to himself and looked back at my watch. “How dare you presume to know the status of my personal friendships,” He said after taking a gasp of fake offence. 

I held my hand out for him to give the watch back, a silent plea for him to end this ridiculous nonsense. But to my confusion and irritation, instead of offering it back, he pulled back his sleeve and put it on. “You know, I think I'll hold onto it for you. Just for today, what do you think, (y/ln)?” 

It was my turn to be taken aback now. “What, no- Cleaver, just give it to me,” I said, my already thin patience running thinner. “This isn’t grade school, what are we, confiscating each other’s belongings now..?” 

Daniel said nothing as he walked around his desk and stopped in front of me - a little too close for a colleague. “You can come back and collect it at the end of the day. Stay later tonight.. If you want it back, then you’ll know where to find me, hmm?” He said, his voice patronizing. Yet, quiet and … suggestive. He was so close, I could smell his cologne - a familiar fragrance from Jo Malone. He lifted his hand and I held my breath, ready for him to do something deranged, like brush back my hair or caress my cheek. Hell, he was close enough to lean in for a kiss.

 Instead, he looked over my shoulder at my watch on his wrist to check the time. “Well look at that.. It’s time to meet Miles Finch,” Daniel said with a quick smile as he stepped back to his desk to pick up some documents. According to the clock on his wall, he was right - ten minutes until 3pm. A few people from different departments even walked by Daniel’s office and into the elevator, clearly on their way to the meeting room. 

Daniel walked past me quickly and I followed behind to retrieve my own things from my office, just as he stopped and turned back.

“Hot dress, by the way, (y/ln),” He started, making my cheeks blush red. “With a neckline that low, I’m sure you won’t even need your notes in order to convince them.”

I gasped and tried to interject as he made his way out to the elevator. 

The meeting came and went, ending on a high note with Miles Finch agreeing to our proposed contract for his upcoming book series. It was truly a triumph; after weeks of hard work and preparation, it actually paid off. The entire meeting room filed out, talking happily and shaking hands with one another with a few minutes to spare before the end of the work day. I was approached numerous times by colleagues and representatives visiting from our New York location, congratulating me and Daniel on a job well done. As the building slowly emptied, I retreated back to my office and opened my computer to start on some extra work. I hadn’t forgotten about what Daniel said. And I certainly hadn't forgotten about my damned wristwatch. 

There were five separate invitations to go out for drinks with everyone from the meeting. And I really did wish to attend. Perhaps for a chance to earn a spot within Miles Finch’s good graces (he was said to be a difficult man to please), but I declined every single one. “Such hard workers, you and Mr. Cleaver are. You make an excellent team, I’m quite glad to have hired you.” Mr. Fitzherbert said when he heard that Daniel and I wished to stay late to ‘get ahead’ on the next big project. 

‘Oh yes,’ I thought to myself. ‘I'm sure we’ll be working very hard tonight.’ It was the only thought I had in my mind as the boss praised us. Checking my email for a final time before I got to work, I noticed a new message. The sender’s name made me sigh and curse as I clicked it open. 

 ‘45 minutes, floor will be empty. 

50 minutes, after George does his rounds, you know what to do.

-DC’

The wall clock ticked away at an agonizingly slow pace. A few times, I even caught myself instinctually turning my wrist to check the time, and cursing under my breath when I found nothing there. When the time finally arrived, George, the security guard walked casually past my glass-walled office. We exchanged polite waves and I watched him walk through the room and out, heading for the stairwell. I recognized my moment, and turned off my computer. I took my things as if I were ready to leave: packed my notebook and pen into my bag, gathered up my coat and scarf, and made the dreadful walk of shame to Daniel’s office door. I felt his eyes on me as I hesitated outside, wondering again if this was all really worth it. I knew I wasn’t just going to walk in, collect my trinket, and go. It would never be that easy with Daniel. 

“About time, (y/ln), took you long enough to finally open the door. Having second thoughts?” Daniel said, without looking up from his computer screen. 

“Actually, yes,” I confessed, putting my belongings down on the chair by the door. “Am I going to regret coming in here, Cleaver..?” I gave him a sincere look of worry. His expression visibly softened as he stood from his desk and walked over. He stopped in front of me, just like he had done earlier. Except this time, there was no one around to see us. No one to watch him do something deranged… like brushing back my hair, or caressing my cheek. Or..

“Daniel,” I whispered, pulling away when he leaned in. My hand went to his chest, ghosting against the bare skin where his dress shirt was left unbuttoned. “Please - don’t risk our positions, or our jobs, for this silliness.” Daniel responded with a soft smile as his hand went to my cheek, caressing it gently. 

“It’s only a problem if we’re caught, (y/n).” Daniel began, his other hand trailing slowly up my side and to my waist. He pulled me against him and I stumbled a little, falling against Daniel’s chest and fully into his arms - right where he wanted me. “And if we are, which we won’t be, I’ll take the blame. It’s my idea after all. I’ll risk my position and my job… not yours.”

Somehow, Daniel’s own version of a sacrifice was endearing enough to make me blush furiously. I opened my mouth to protest, just to be met with his thumb gliding gently over my bottom lip. “It’s alright, (y/n),” He whispered with an amused smile on his face. He winked and I couldn't help but return the smile. Daniel backed away briefly, pulling me by the arm to his desk where I settled against it. He resumed his place in front of me, pulling me back into his embrace. “I’ve got it all figured out… and I've got you.”

I felt myself physically relax at Daniel’s words - more relaxed than I’ve ever felt while being with him. I raised my eyebrows at his statement, sighing against his lips. “You always have everything figured out, don't you Daniel?” Before he could give me one of his clever responses, I closed the gap between us and pressed my lips to his. Just to shut him up. 

His hand settled on my hip, keeping me pinned against his desk. I let my own hands move up his chest, and over his shoulders. One hand rest on the back of his neck, while the other went up into his hair, getting tangled in his dark locks. He let out a moan against my lips, and I couldn't help my mischievous smile.

“Excuse my enthusiasm, (y/n),” Daniel began, pulling away only enough to form words. “But I have been fucking dying to get you like this since the day I met you.” It was my turn to be amused now. I smiled and bit my bottom lip, delighted to see him this flustered. “Oh, I can tell, Daniel,” The feeling of his growing erection against me was enough to know that he was serious. I let my hands fall from their work in his hair, dropping one to his shoulder and the other to the desk behind me. It rested beside Daniel’s left hand, my fingers ghosting over his. “To make a confession of my own, I’ve always found you rather attractive - hot as fuck, even. But your insufferable arrogance was often far to much for me to bear.” 

Daniel laughed against my neck as he dipped down to kiss the sensitive skin there, earning a breathy moan from me. I moved my hand from the desktop, gliding over his hand and to his wrist, where I felt the undeniable outline of my watch. I quickly moved my hand up, tightening around his forearm as he nipped at my neck, hoping he wouldn’t get suspicious. “Daniel…” I moaned to him, making him hold my waist tighter in response. My other hand slid off his shoulder and down his back to distract him while I began to remove my watch from his wrist. 

‘Almost…’ I thought and let out a sigh when I felt the leather strap slide from the small buckle. Daniel bit into my neck harder than he had before, and I gasped sharply. He paused, bringing his quest to cover me in love bites to a close. “Don’t stop, please,” I pleaded, nearly whining for him. Not only was I close to finally getting my watch back, but the physical contact actually felt too good to lose. I felt Daniel smirk against my lips as he pulled away from me completely, my hand drifting off his shoulder and lingering outstretched for him. 

“You almost had me, (y/n),” Daniel said while he fastened my watch back onto his wrist. “Don’t make me restrain you, (y/ln). Play fairly and you’ll get what you came here for.” 

I roll my eyes and groan, crossing my arms in front of me. “Fine, Daniel. What must I do to get my precious watch back?” Daniel put a hand to his heart and gasped. 

“You wound me, (y/n), honestly,” He paced to the side of the desk, leaning on it bringing our faces inches apart once again. “I had hoped that what you wanted from me wasn't just your watch.” 

“Daniel-” I scolded, as if he were a child. He was surely acting like one. He just laughed and held up his hands in surrender after taking a step away. “Alright, (y/ln), alright. I need you to do something for me. A favor, I suppose.” His voice dropped in volume as he finished. I chewed the inside of my lip, eyeing him cautiously. 

“Like what? Take over a project for you? Cover for you while you run off to some broom closet or storage room with one of the interns?” Daniel approached me with that damned smile on his face again. The one that first made my heart race. The one that could convince me to do anything. 

“Bold of you to assume I’d be running off with anyone other than you, (y/ln). But no, nothing like that,” He paused, seemingly thinking. His tongue traced his bottom lip as his eyes scanned over my face while his hand absentmindedly rubbed my thigh beneath my skirt. “Well, you are quite good with this mouth of yours.” 

My eyes widened and my lips parted in my shock. ‘Oh, surely not.’ 

“I don’t suppose you mean I have a chance of talking my way out of this?” I asked, trying desperately to avoid what I knew he was implying. Daniel shook his head, still enamored by me as he resumed his kissing along my jaw and down my neck. “Come now, (y/n), don’t play innocent. It’s a poor act, and it doesn't look good on you.” 

He kisses and roughly nips at a spot just below my jaw, making me crane my head back and sigh. He pulled away again and looked at me. I had never seen his blue eyes look so dark. 

‘No. No. No way. Tell him no, say-’

“Fine,” I nodded to Daniel’s desk chair, telling him to sit as I pulled my hair back. I bit my lip to hide a smile as he scrambled to take his seat. I stole a pen off his desk and stuck it into my makeshift updo, securing it in place. 

I left my spot on the front of the desk, rounding it to stand between Daniel’s legs. The outline of his cock was apparent even through his dark trousers as I lowered myself down between his legs. The only sounds for a moment were heavy breaths and Daniel’s zipper sliding down. He shifted in his seat, pushing his trousers down slightly. I took a breath and paused when I slid my fingers around the waistband of his underwear. I hesitated for a moment, making Daniel hum in amusement from above me. I looked up at him, eyes locked with his. 

“You’re really doing this, (y/n)?” He said, surely meaning to challenge me. His arm was propped by his elbow on the armrest of the desk chair. My Timex watch sat, still fastened to Daniel’s wrist, looking almost like it was meant to be there. The gold hardware glinted in the low lights in the office and I felt my chest tighten at the thought of Daniel Fucking Cleaver keeping one of my most treasured possessions forever. “Of course I am,” I say, settling onto my knees and slowly letting my hands slide under Daniel’s dress shirt, up and down the sides of his torso. “I want my fucking watch back.”

Daniel nodded and readjusted himself in his seat, leaning back like a king on his throne. “Go on then Miss (y/ln). Use that pretty mouth of yours… take what you came here for.” I smiled back and rolled my eyes, letting my gaze settle on Daniel and his endearing grin. “Yes, right away, Mr. Cleaver.”

I slid my fingers into his waistband again and pulled them, no hesitation this time. My eyes widened a bit when his cock sprang free from its constraints. He was admittedly very large. Daniel let out a groan as I took him in hand and licked his tip playfully. I continued my teasing, enjoying the sounds of Daniel nearly whimpering. 

“O-ohhh, (y/n).. enough of that, please.” He begged, dropping his left hand to my face. Daniel held my chin up with one, and with the other began to stroke his cock, positioning it in front of my mouth. “No more teasing if you want your watch back.” I nodded obediently, which pleased him. 

“Now, (y/n), if you’d be so kind, just- ohhh, fuck,” Happy to quiet him, I took him into my mouth, going as deep as I comfortably could. I breathed slowly and deliberately, ensuring that I didn’t choke too severely. 

I felt Daniel’s hand snake around to the back my neck and hold me, tangling into the hair at the base. I moaned as he began to guide my head back and forth; slowly and gently. I shut my eyes for a moment, focusing on my breathing again. He was so much … more than what I had experienced in the past, and I was not accustomed to it. 

I felt Daniel move his hand from my chin and I opened my eyes slowly. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, his groans and whispers filling his office space. I pulled off his cock and trailed my tongue along the length of it, earning a hiss and a long moan of my name. I looked up again, hoping to catch his gaze and instead was met with the clockface of my watch on his wrist as his hand held the base of his cock. I stared at it before me, as I closed my lips around him again. 

‘He’s doing it on purpose, surely,’ I thought as his moans became a bit louder. 

“(y/n), fuck. I’m close, darling, so close-” Daniel groaned, his hold tightening on the back of my neck. I hummed and hollowed my cheeks as I took him, enjoying the sounds of his cries. 

I glanced up through my eyelashes and watched as he reached his climax, finishing into my mouth. I shut my eyes, swallowing what I could as Daniel’s hold on my neck loosened completely and his hand fell while he relaxed. 

“God, you are good Miss (y/ln). Fuck,” He groaned, fixing his clothes and redressing. I paused and patted his thigh gently, while I turned and spit the rest of his cum into the wastebin beneath his desk. Daniel watched as I casually stood and wiped at my mouth, rubbing off what remained of my lipstick. “Too much for you, darling?” He said, making me roll my eyes. I leaned forward, resting my hands on the chair’s armrests. My lips grazed Daniel’s tauntingly as I let my tongue glide over his bottom lip. “Is there anything else you require of me, Mr. Cleaver?” I asked with the best demure voice I could manage. 

Daniel groaned again, seemingly close to giving into me. “(y/n), darling…” He whispered, holding my face gently. “I thought I told you the innocent act isn’t your thing. Besides, as badly as I need to bend you over and fuck you on this desk, George’s next round is going to start soon and I’m confident that you don’t want him to find us like that.”

I stood and let him stand from his chair. “How do you know the security guard’s patrolling routine so well?” 

Daniel grinned. “My sweet, (y/n), why do you think?”

I didn’t give him an answer. Instead I scoffed at him and fixed the collar of my dress, crossing the room to pick up my belongings. “Oh, now I’ve earned the silent treatment have I?” Daniel leaned against his desk, watching me put on my scarf and coat. I failed to hide a smile when I watched him attempt to seem as though he wasn’t crying my name a moment ago. I crossed the room again, back over to Daniel and extended my hand wordlessly. He rolled his eyes and sighed, carefully removing the watch on his wrist. 

He lowered it into my palm and I nodded. “Thank y-,”

“On second thought,” Daniel began, cutting me off and pulling my watch away again. “I think I’ll hold onto it a little bit longer. Just until tomorrow evening, that alright, (y/ln)?”

My cheeks went warm while I watched him put the watch into his pocket and put on his own coat. I huffed, admittedly like a child, and crossed my arms. “Oh, was I not good enough?” I asked, a little too loudly. He shook his head. 

“Oh no, darling, you were wonderful. Too good for me to let this little game end right now. What do you say to … The Ritz? Tomorrow evening?” Daniel took his own things and walked to the door of his office. “I do owe you after all. I fear I’ve robbed you of a lovely night of drinks with our colleagues.”

I followed him out of the room and over to the elevator, waiting for the doors to open. “I'd say I've never been,” I confessed. “You do know you can ask me out to dinner without holding my wristwatch hostage, right?”

Daniel shrugged, sliding his arm around my waist as we watched the numbers of the floors descend. “Sure, but this is just more fun,” He leaned down, his lips grazing against my ear as he whispered, making my chest tighten. “It’s like getting back at you for those revealing outfits you’ve been wearing here - especially that little miniskirt you have.” I shivered as his fingers made gentle circles on my waist. 

He lifted his head, and stood up straight just in time for the doors to open again. George was indeed on his second round of the empty building, having left the other security guard at the front desk. We waved goodbye and were met with a cold wind beyond the front doors of Pemberley Press, the flurries mentioned on the news this morning already making their appearance. I paused to button up my coat, as Daniel examined my Timex watch yet again. 

“You know, (y/ln), I really do think this watch suits me nearly as well as it suits you.” He said, putting it back into the pocket of his trousers. I rolled my eyes and faced him. “Oh sure. Perhaps once we’re all done here you can get one of your OWN.” I heard Daniel’s laugh echoing behind me as I walked away from him. As I reached my car, I got inside and started it up wondering how on earth I was going to explain this situation to Frankie when I called him on the phone at my apartment.

✧─── ⋆⋅ ✧⋅⋆ ───✧

I hope you all enjoyed!! Potentially scheming a Part II at some point, but please let me know what you think!

[exonerin]

Picking Up Strays [Obikin | A03 | ✓]

This year, I made a poll to decide what fic I would write for Christmas. Cat!Anakin was the (rightful) winner of this poll. So, I wrote and posted this fic over the previous days leading up to Christmas. This fic is now completed!

(Yes, I'm a day early. My math didn't add up. Merry Christmas if you celebrate, and otherwise a very happy end of December). Also, there's bonus content at the bottom of this post!!

Synopsis:

A mission on Dathomir to find a rumored Sith Temple turns wild when Anakin is transformed into a cat. Obi-Wan, unaware of this transformation, believes Anakin has been kidnapped by the night sisters. Called back to the Temple, he returns with a cat rather than his Padawan.

Anakin is in the unique position to learn his Master cares about him from Obi-Wan's shoulder. He also learns why animals take a shine to his Master. Obi-Wan is very good with animals, Anakin included.

Tags: Top Obi-Wan Kenobi Bottom Anakin Skywalker Praise Kink Cursed Anakin Skywalker Fluff Animal Transformation Anakin Skywalker Is An Adorable Cat (According To Obi-Wan) Mutual Masturbation

(Also, there's no beastiality. I realize I never specified that)

The boy refused to look him in the eye, staunchly turning his head when Sidious tried to catch his gaze.

It was infuriating.

If the boy tossed him one more scornful side-eye, pouting like Sidious had killed his family -- wasn't that an ironic observation? -- Sidious would do something he would regret.

Kenobi sat by the boy's side, clutching the boy's hand. Or the boy clutched Kenobi's hand. Sidious couldn't tell, and he really didn't care. There was no explanation for anything that had happened.

When they had parted, the boy had looked at him with soulful eyes, pouting that he couldn't reveal where he was sent next. Sidious had noted that once the boy was his apprentice, he would have to clarify that one should never mention one was sent on a secret mission.

The naivety served him well currently, though.

Yet, the boy wouldn't be his apprentice now. No, a decade of hard work was ruined by an event Sidious wasn't part of. The boy refused his calls and turned his invitations down. When Sidious tried to visit the Jedi's temple, the guards turned him away, too.

The humiliation burning in his stomach was a powerful emotion that would help him snap Kenobi's and Skywalker's necks instantly. It was only the reminder that he was more powerful than they could imagine that kept him in his seat.

As a last-ditch attempt to talk to the boy, he had engineered peace talks with the Separatists. Skywalker and Kenobi were the obvious Jedi representation after Sidious had dropped a few hints.

He hadn't seen the boy since he was sent on a secret mission, but he had returned with new ears. He also purred when Kenobi grabbed his thigh, and it had taken all of Sidious' decennia of training to refrain from lashing out.

They were disgusting. Everything about this farce was wrong.

Amidala had wiggled her way into these negotiations, and the Bonteri wench was making fast friends with her. No, this was not going according to Sidious' plans at all.

He could adapt, though. His plans were as flexible as his mind. He would prevail here. Whatever perceived evil misdeed had the boy in such a tizzy, he would smoothen out. He had done so before.

During a break in a meeting that strayed further and further from his plans, he finally intercepted the boy. The boy had remained glued to Kenobi's side throughout the meeting. As a precaution, Sidious had volunteered Kenobi to show the appointed Separatist negotiators the coffee area.

"Anakin," he called out to Anakin, pitching his voice grandfatherly. The boy always reacted well to his warm voice.

Now, the boy jumped a foot in the air, twisted, and hissed.

He hissed at Sidious.

This revealed two sharp incisors.

Sidious regained his composure quickly, forcing his expression to remain placid.

"Anakin, would you mind escorting this old man to the restroom?" he asked.

"No," Anakin refused.

Movement in Sidious' periphery caught his attention. A tail swished in a slow pattern, reminding Sidious of a predator eyeing its prey. This was a warning -- or perhaps a threat.

"No?" he echoed dumbly.

He knew people watched, their shock palpable in the air to a Force-sensitive.

"No," the boy repeated smugly. "I will not."

Then, he turned around and hurried in the direction Kenobi had taken the Separatist representatives, almost tripping over his feet and tail in his eagerness.

This wasn't supposed to happen. For the first time since Sidious had stood over his Master's corpse, he felt ill-equipped to deal with a situation.

The remainder of the day went worse, all his scheming amounting to nothing. Skywalker and Kenobi still held hands as they left the Senate Rotunda, not even trying to be subtle.

It didn't matter. Sidious would find a way. He always did. He would also get his revenge for the utter humiliation of picking Kenobi over his most generous offer. The Jedi were weak; he would show them true power.

When he returned to his office, his nose itched. Irritated, he slumped in his seat, brushing animal hair from the furniture futily.

Did the boy shed in Sidious' office?

Oh, this was a disgrace. Sidious sneezed multiple times in succession, a headache building above his nose. His revenge would be sweet.

[greater-than-the-sword]

Inspired by a post about aliens within a Christian worldview, I wrote this short story for the @inklings-challenge Christmas challenge. Well, 10 pages, that's as short as it gets from me. Genre: Sci-fi Takes place at Christmastime? Well, it's set in space, where Earth dates are unclear, but sure, why not.

The Blind Astronaut and the Sun

(title under revision...)

              They hung silently in the orbit of the pulsar. Below them, the star made a noise like a hundred million atomic bombs exploding all at once, but none of them could hear it.

              Soft beeps and hushed radio static were the only noise on board the ship. It was as much night-time as it ever was in space.

              Judd and Roberts floated by the window. It wasn’t a very large window, only a couple of feet in diameter, and slightly bowed out. Roberts stared pensively.

              “So tell me,” he asked. “How does a blind man get interested in space?”

              Judd chuckled softly.

              “I mean, you’ve never even seen the stars. Let alone this star. And yet here you are.”

              “Well…”

“A sight that plenty of people would kill to see, right in front of you. And you can’t even see it.” Roberts paused. “I don’t mean to be rude, I’m sorry…”

              There was a tinted screen on the window that made it possible to see the pulsar. It was a roiling sea of fire, too vast to comprehend. Dots of swimming red wave-tips speckled an ocean of gold light. The patterns shifted continuously, never quite the same.

              “I’ve been awake twenty hours,” said Judd, in his deep, swelling voice, the one that Roberts always found so calming, like that of a documentary narrator. “Nothing seems rude to me at the moment. I suppose you might as well ask. I can hear them.”

              “You mean you heard about them?”

              “That’s what I told everyone at university. But no. Just between you and me. They make a sound.”

              “Ah, you’re talking about the wavelengths…?” Roberts sounded uncertain.

              “That’s why I became a radio technician. Yes, there’s the radio waves. The shortwave frequencies and the microwaves and every wave you can think of. But that’s not what they really sound like.” Judd smiled faintly.

              Roberts did not inquire further, he was almost creeped out. Judd did unnerve him at times, with his strange romanticism. He changed the subject back a little. “But don’t you wish you could see it?”

“Oh, every day. Unimaginably. So bad it hurts. I want to get closer.”

“You are closer now than most people will ever be to a star, Judd.”

“Closer. I need to be swallowed. Consumed. I want to take that light into my body and let it burn my eyes out, until I can feel the sound that they make in every cell of my body and I want to be closer than a human can be and see more than seeing.” He paused, and Roberts frowned. “Besides,” he said, “I can’t see it now, but I can feel its heat.”

Roberts put his hand on the window. The shielding was functional, of course. It was cold. “Well. Perhaps it’s time to go to bed.”

Hendricks came around the corner, interrupting them. “Hi Hendricks,” said Roberts. “You’re finally awake.”

“Anything from the pulsar?”

“Other than the usual… no.”

Hendricks was what they called a “true believer”. Roberts was not.

“I keep telling you,” said Roberts, “We’re not going to get anything to prove your theory. At best, some more novel particles or wavelengths or something –”

“Is that how you describe our communications with Alpha 1? A novel wavelength?”

“Well, no, but it doesn’t really resemble anything we recognize as—"

“If alien life evolved elsewhere in the universe, it would have been under such a vastly different set of conditions than earth that humans may not even be able to comprehend it as life.” Hendricks did a slow cartwheel in the air, his arms lively.

“Evolved? This is a star. How could it evolve? What were its parents? What kind of natural selection- predators – death- genetics-” Roberts protested.

“That’s just it, isn’t it? It’s so alien we can’t imagine. Perhaps it’s an ascended form of some other life-form that evolved elsewhere… passed on to a kind of immortality…” Hendricks spread out his hands.

Roberts, and now Judd too, looked skeptical.

“Can you imagine what kind of intelligence such a race must have had to evolve like that? I wonder if it knows we’re here. It must. And what sort of powers might it have? I wish we could communicate with it.”

“I have sent the transmissions you asked for,” said Judd.

“Oh yes, I know. But either it can’t interpret them – or more likely in my opinion – we’re simply beneath the notice of such a vastly higher being. An entity of pure light—it really makes you think. Judd, if there was alien life, would it affect your belief in God?”

“Hmm… I’m not sure,” said Judd. “I don’t think so.”

“It would go to show that humans aren’t the center of the universe, wouldn’t it? Shatter all of our little delusions about our significance.”

“Maybe.”

“And those aliens, what do you think they believe in, hm?” Hendricks raised an eyebrow like this was the most groundbreaking question ever asked. “If they’re more advanced than us, perhaps they’ve reached enlightenment and don’t have a need for such belief systems anymore.

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it,” said Judd, but his tone indicated that he wasn’t really looking at it.

Hendricks’ theory wasn’t completely groundless. The pulsar was something of an impossibility to begin with, it should have been pulled apart by two neighboring black holes, but the scientists at Alpha 1 had noticed that it exerted something of a stabilizing force, self-correcting pulses of energy that kept the star together when mere entropy should have dissolved it a billion years ago. The seemingly intelligent behavior had led some scientists to believe life-forms might be repairing their star. But when expeditions had ruled out life on any neighboring planets, a new theory formed. Some believed the star itself housed some sort of alien intelligence. And so, the expedition that had gotten all three of them on a research mission to analyze radio waves coming out of a pulsar had been launched from Alpha 1.

***

It was some hours later that Judd awakened. He was being lightly shaken by Hendricks.

“Wake up. Wake up, bro. There’s a new signal.” Hendrick’s voice was a whisper, but it was full of excitement.

Judd’s body, dull from sleep, came to life. He pushed himself from the bunk room and through the portal to the comms. He donned the headset, bidding Hendricks be silent, and listened.

Roberts was still sleeping. He could hear the faint snores from the far bunk. There was also radio static; the massive barrage of junk signals that a star generates by virtue of its existence. These had to be damped and modified until they were faint. And of course, as usual, there was the steady drum of the pulsar, like a heartbeat, pounding again and again like waves against a shore.

But underneath all of that, there was something new. It was soft, almost musical. A complex, weaving sound, up and down, back and forth. But as Judd listened, he realized this too was repetitive, despite its complexity. It kept perfect time with the pulsar’s heart. But it was faster – no mere byproduct or resonance of the electromagnetic fields. There was something asymmetric about this— with internal congruencies—

“We couldn’t hear it before,” started Hendricks tentatively. “We weren’t close enough. I think it must be coming from a deeper place inside the star, maybe towards the core.”

“This is a language,” said Judd.

“What?!” Hendricks hit his head on the ceiling. “How could you know that?”

“Trust me, I know. It’s complex, repetitive—it’s—well, just a feeling, maybe—but it’s a message. I know it is.”

“But it’s repeating. A repeating message. A broadcast?”

“Maybe.”

“A distress signal?”

“…….not sure.”

“But if it’s being intentionally broadcast, why can we only pick it up from within close range?”

“Mmmmm.” Judd puckered his lips. “I don’t know.”

Roberts was finally coming awake. He saw them both huddled over the comms panel. “What is it?” he mumbled, rolling midair.

“Judd thinks it’s a broadcast.”

“Your words,” said Judd.

“A language. A message.”

“From who?” Roberts asked.

“The star.”

Roberts looked askance, ever the skeptic. “Saying what?”

“I don’t know,” said Judd.

“How can you say it’s a language if you don’t know? Tell me what it says, if you’re so sure. Decode it.”

“Hand me my tablet, then.”

Roberts handed Judd the tablet. It was not, in fact, a device, but the wax tablet that Judd used to write on with a small stylus.

Judd sat there for some time, scratching away.

Hendricks and Roberts didn’t have too much time to waste, they eventually had to get busy on the daily maintenance tasks of inspected the EVA suits, for damage, checking the food stores for spoilage, composing briefings and reports, and cleaning particulate matter off of practically everything.

Later in the day they eventually got back together. It was around lunch, or what the ship time said was 2pm. The time was neither Earth Time, Alpha 1 time, nor related in any way to their orbit of the pulsar, but it was necessary for human sanity to maintain a consistent day/night cycle.

“I’m not really a linguist,” said Judd finally, crunching his freeze-dried strawberries. “There’s not much to go on, anyway, since the message is so short. I’m not really sure what you’re expecting me to turn up.”

“Fair enough,” said Roberts.

“We could try to communicate,” said Hendricks. “Send something back, you know.”

“We already tried that.”

“I mean, maybe we’re in range now.”

“Maybe.” Judd looked unconvinced.

Suddenly he got a funny look on his face, and sailed back toward the headset.

“What?”

He didn’t say anything, just slipped the headset on. A moment later he took it down. “Closer… we are closer, that explains it.”

“What?” asked Hendricks again, patiently.

“It seems to have gotten… clearer. There’s more in between. More…” he waved his hands. “Some parts of it are still too faint to make out. Maybe if I had more… we need to get closer.”

“We can’t,” said Roberts.

They both turned toward Roberts.

“We’re as close as we can get now,” said Roberts. “If you bring the ship any closer, our shields will be overwhelmed and we could burn up.”

              That was the end of the discussion, at least for the time being.

              They went back to their work, and even Judd left the transmissions alone for a while, choosing to clean the air filters instead.

              It was later in the day that Roberts saw a bright flash outside the window. Immediately a number of small beeping noises commenced from all quarters of the ship.

              Hendricks kicked off and started moving from panel to panel, checking the light indicators.

              Judd swore. “What’s going on?”

              “Solar flare,” said Roberts. “Came pretty close to the ship. All our antennae have got misaligned. That’s the beeping. Checking for possible damage now.”

              A minute later, Roberts had gotten the readout. “It looks like we lost part of a solar panel. It hit the siding and knocked off a panel cover.”

              “That’s all?” said Hendricks. “Could have been worse.”

              “Could have,” said Roberts, “but if we don’t cover the panel, the wires could corrode within a day and we’ll have damage to the cooling systems. It’s caustic out there.”

              There was silence for a moment.

              “All right,” said Judd. “Fine.”

              They both looked at him, though he didn’t perceive it.

              “Fine what?” said Hendricks, finally.

              “I’ll do it,” said Judd.

              “Are you s—”

              “You know damn well that I’m the only one who can. That’s the reason they sent me. It wasn’t just for my transmissions expertise. I’m the only one who doesn’t risk going blind.”

              ***

              Judd donned at last the helmet of his EVA suit. Roberts and Hendricks had finished the inspection, and now stood ready to operate the airlock. He clutched the tool kit. It was time to go.

              Through the airlock into the decompression chamber. The door shut with a sucking thud. The sound of the vacuum came on. It took about 2 minutes for the chamber to empty of air, as much as it could be emptied, and Judd felt his suit puff up.

              When the outer door opened, he pushed off, one hand on the toolbox and one on the tether, as he lightly brushed the wall. He swung around the corner and caught the grip rung. Bingo, right on target. He began to climb.

              He could feel the sun at his back instantly. It was warm, even with the shielding fields about 5 feet away from the hull, almost too warm for comfort. If he could see—no he couldn’t. It would have been a blaze of white, enough to burn anyone’s eyes out. Roberts or Hendricks could have come out here with eye protection, but they’d have had to do the job blind anyways, and they were hardly as practiced in it as he was.

              Judd moved from antennae to antennae, straightening them where they’d been pushed aside, bent or even flattened against the hull.

              As he adjusted the last one, the radio crackled on in his helmet.

              “Radio’s fixed,” he said. “Testing. Over.”

              “Receiving,” said Hendricks. “You good out there? Over.”

              “All good so far. Over.”

              The sun seemed to flush hotter against his back. He thought of it again. This was as close as he could ever come… wasn’t it? He was frightened of it. Terrified, even. But he wanted more. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to see it, even though he knew that even seeing it would be a futile endeavor because it would be the only thing he’d ever see in his entire life. But it would be worth it. Probably.

              He had made it all the way up to the panel. Sure enough, the cover was torn off. The sharp edge of mangled metal scraped against his gloves. He opened the tool kit and found the roll of aluminum tape.

The sun seemed to pulse in its intensity. It was as though he could hear that same musical pulse through the radio… But not quite. Surely not.

“Found the panel. Covering it now. Over.”

He stretched out the tape and cut it, stretching it piece by piece across the space in the hull.

The sun was calling to him. Hot at his back. With a feeling of brightness that he could not see, but still almost sense. The siren song seemed to pulse through his body, through his ears, he felt that the radio static was echoing it, it was there, surely he was not imagining it.

“Do you hear that? Over.”

“Hear what? Over.”

              It was not, strictly speaking, that Judd was certain in any way the voice was calling to him directly. And yet it was. It was the voice that he had heard all his life. It was the voice of the stars that he’d heard when he was a child on Earth. Now he felt them begin to align for the first time in his mind: the age-old voice; the transmission from the star. They were one, they were the same, but he hadn’t recognized it before.

              He put the last strip of tape over the panel. A strange excitement, a strange and fierce joy seized him. Oh, I can’t be doing this.

              “Judd,” Hendricks was saying. “Judd, do you copy. Over.”

              “I’m… I was just…” He hesitated.

              “Judd.”

              “I can hear it.”

              “Come back to the airlock.”

              This is what I was born for. This is what I was created for.

              “Judd! Judd!!!”

              He let go.

              ***

              Hendricks’ last cry trailed off.

The two of them sat frozen in dismay inside the ship. The empty radio buzzed in their ears. There was no sign of whatever Judd had heard. They had heard no signs of distress from him; but he was suddenly either out of range or—

              Destroyed, Roberts thought. His comms had been destroyed, his vital signs tracker had been destroyed as well.

              There was a heavy silence, laden with grief and a strange horror.

              “He’s gone… We lost him…” he couldn’t believe what he was saying.

Closer to the surface, Roberts began to foment a more selfish sort of fear. Judd was gone for good—and how would they get home without a 3-man crew? It was technically possible— maybe.

“He let go,” said Hendricks.

“He must have,” said Roberts dully.

“On purpose,” said Hendricks, like a child stating the obvious. “He let go on purpose.”

Roberts wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t argue. The sun beneath them suddenly felt alive, and its presence ominous. It had swallowed Judd, and its open maw was waiting for the rest of them as well.

              ***

              Judd was falling through the sun. Faster and faster he went, until he was streaking like a meteor past dust and particles and ever stronger solar winds.

              He hit the surface with a gaseous splash, and a sensation that he felt, but not in the way that he might have expected. It was cold, or so-hot-it-was-cold, like the shock of falling through ice, but with an afterglow like alcohol and mint that spread through his entire body.

              His EVA suit was destroyed. It had been melted or burned away. But he seemed to be breathing—though he wasn’t entirely confident that what he was breathing was air. Not only was he not in pain, he seemed to be more alive every moment.

              The world was hotter, cooler, and hotter again. He wondered how long he would have to fall before getting to the core. He wondered if he was close now. He had lost track of time, but it seemed as though he had been falling for an age. Somehow he knew that he was close. There was something here. A presence. A being.

              He saw light.

              It wasn’t an image of any sort. It was just like the light had finally become so strong it had pierced to his very soul. He was conscious of being in a very bright space. He knew that he was intruding. As best he could explain it, he had the sense of being in somebody’s house.

              But he was still falling.

              Judd understood something now about the nature of the Star, for the star it was. It was not lonely. Neither was it bored. It was happy, although happiness felt too trite a word. This Being, whatever it was, had lived in continuous and incomprehensible bliss since the beginning of time.

              And the Star noticed him. It felt like a spotlight turned directly on him in an instant, which was something that he could only now describe.

              WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE.

              Judd was dumbstruck, he could not answer.

I HAVE EXISTED FOR 4 BILLION YEARS. NEVER HAVE I BEEN REQUIRED TO DO ANYTHING EXCEPT SING MY SONG. UNTIL NOW.

Judd stared at the light.

WHY HAVE YOU COME.

He spoke, barely able to form the words, but knowing with a sudden certainty what he wanted to say. “Your song. What does it mean?”

ARE YOU NOT ABLE TO UNDERSTAND? AH. I WILL TRANSLATE IT INTO YOUR LANGUAGE.

***

Roberts and Hendricks had picked up where Judd left off, testing the connections on the control panel and recalibrating for the new positions of the antennae. They worked as silently as they could. Neither of them wanted to talk about what had just happened, but they couldn’t bring themselves to talk about anything else.

The mood was depressive. Judd was dead, and they were alone. Alone with the sun.

Coolant systems were online, everything was working. Hendricks wanted to have some sort of ceremony or something, but he wasn’t sure how. There wasn’t even anything to bury.

It was dinner time, a scant 30 minutes allotted for a square meal. They sat, as it were, reluctantly near the minifridge, but neither of them wanted to eat.

There was a flash of light.

When the flash subsided, Judd was standing there in a t-shirt and shorts.

Roberts screamed and kicked the mini-fridge, throwing his mandarin through the air, almost hitting Judd in the face, though he didn’t notice. Hendricks made a similarly undignified noise and awkward flail.

Judd was rubbing his face, and breathing heavily. He was trembling; he looked as though he might have stumbled; but given the lack of gravity he simply rotated haphazardly until his head was down.

“We thought you were dead,” Hendricks managed.

“Don’t freak out,” said Judd. “It sent me back.”

“You… spoke to it?”

“Yes, it said—” Judd opened his eyes.

The two men screamed again, and recoiled in horror.

“Your eyes!” Roberts yelled.

“What?!” Judd demanded. “What about them? I’ve always been—stop freaking out, I know I startled you, but I’m not a ghost, it’s just me—”

Judd’s eyes were like the high beams on a Ford F-50.

“Don’t you want to know what the transmission said?” he asked, confused.

It was Hendricks who pulled himself together first. “What did it say?”

“Glory to God in the highest, and on Earth peace, and goodwill toward men.”

[dragonflylady77]

Terminally Straight

Harringrove | 7k | Rating: M | best friend's brother, fluff

I wrote this fic almost 2 years ago now... All 10 chapters are now up on Ao3.

@passivenovember needed some fluff today so I decided it was time to post it.

Gift for @passivenovember, @heck-in-a-handbasket, @fizzigigsimmer @ihni and @shieldofiron

Summary:

Robin's mom married Steve's dad at the end of Robin's senior year and Robin is not happy about it. Thankfully her new stepbrother is off to university. Robin's best friend Billy wouldn't have minded getting to know the famed King of Hawkins High. Eight years later, they meet again and it goes better than Billy had anticipated.

read on Ao3

Hawkins, Indiana

July 2015

Billy’s crush had started at the end of senior year. He’d recently turned eighteen and landed himself a summer job with his bestest friend in the world before they started their graphic design studies.

Robin was throwing a pool party to celebrate the end of high school. Billy and Robin had clicked the moment they’d met, on Billy’s first day as a transfer from Cali, halfway through the previous school year. Their respective gaydars had pinged hard and they’d become instant best friends.

All the popular kids had decided to show up to the party because no one passed up on free booze at a pool party, even one thrown by the band geek, especially when it afforded them a look at the former residence of Hawkins High School legend, the famed Steve Harrington, Robin’s new stepbrother. To Robin’s neverending dismay, her mother had recently married Steve’s father and they were conveniently away on their Christmas honeymoon in Florida.

The sun was shining high that day in Hawkins, Indiana, and Billy was working on a decent buzz, red solo cup resting on the pool chair between his legs as he rolled a joint for him and Robin when someone angrily called out his friend’s name. 

Robin flinched on the end of the lounger and Billy looked up from his task to find the prettiest boy he’d ever seen stalking towards them. Thick brown hair, huge brown eyes that sparked with anger, gangly arms dotted with moles peeking out of a sage green polo shirt, long legs hidden by jeans and white trainers.

“Robin, what the hell is this?”

“Hello to you too, Steven. What does it look like? It’s a pool party. Surely you remember what a party is?”

“Yes, thank you, I know what a party is. I’m also willing to bet that a bunch of people here are under age.”

“What’s your point, pretty boy?” Billy couldn’t help himself, the words slipped out and he could have sworn Steve’s cheeks turned pink but it was hard to tell from behind his aviators. 

A second later, Steve bristled. “What do you mean, what’s my point? And don’t call me that.”

“Steve,” Robin interrupted, her hand landing on Billy’s forearm in warning, because she knew he wouldn’t leave it at that if given half a chance, “I know you went to parties all the time when you were in high school, so you can get off that fucking high horse of yours for a minute and let us enjoy the fact that we made it through senior year.”

“There’s still stories around school about the party the year you graduated, princess,” Billy added, just to see the pink on Steve’s cheeks again, and boy, was it a pretty sight. Totally worth Robin digging her nails into his arms.

Steve Harrington’s name was whispered at school like he was royalty; there wasn’t anything he hadn’t done or got away with. Billy had always taken the rumors he’d heard with a grain of salt but seeing Steve in person, he wanted them all to be true.

Steve glared at them, his lips pressed in a thin line, then he turned around and stalked off. They heard a door slam inside then the roar of an engine. Billy and Robin looked at each other, trying not to laugh, before Billy went back to finish rolling that joint. He lit it and took a long drag, leaning back in his sun lounger.

“So that’s your new brother, Rob?”

“Uh huh, aren’t I lucky?” Robin said, the sarcasm thick in her voice. “So glad he got into U of Illinois and moved to Chicago. He’s a ray of freaking sunshine.”

“He is hot as fuck is what he is,” Billy said, wondering how far down Steve’s blush went.

“He’s also terminally straight, so don’t waste your time, Billy.”

Billy let out a huge sigh. “Why does this keep happening to me? I’m telling you, Rob, I’m cursed!”

Robin cackled, taking the joint off him. “Poor, poor baby.”

[suhnflowerstay]

game night

mark lee x afab!reader

a/n: this is based on a real life situation so it might not be super relatable (no description of what reader looks like besides the fact that they’re afraid of sitting on his lap)

and it is not representative of any characteristics the idols have or anything lol it does require the knowledge of Jackbox Games. quiplash is a game where you get a prompt and you anonymously write down what you think is the funniest answer and everyone votes for the funniest one. i'm posting this twice because i originally wrote it for mark but my sister thought it was well suited for chan as well soooo yeah!

wc: 2.9k

tags: toxic situationship vibes (like really toxic), smoking (barely mentioned, high emotions, angst, smut, sad ending

----------------

You and Mark had known each other for a few years. You had initially met on vacation and got each other's contact information to keep in touch. You were talking all the time and FaceTiming nearly every day. You were friends, such close friends that you decided to go to the same university. Once you moved to his area for college, you were spending all your time with each other. Eventually, the sexual tension between you began to build and before you knew it, your situationship began.

A few months before your friends with benefits relationship with Mark began, he had been sharing with you how messy his previous arrangement went. You had seen other girls come and go because they could never handle him sticking by his word and refusing to commit to them. You were also not interested in commitment, so you felt comfortable going into it. You knew exactly who you were friends with, so you assumed you would be fine. You were just friends who had a sexual attraction to each other. There was no reason that having sex would have to complicate things, right? Wrong.

Yes, there are people who can have a healthy friends with benefits style relationship. Sex is easy to detach from for some more than others. Your relationship with Mark was anything but detached. You were best friends who had sex, and the gray area was extremely gray. You were practically dating without the label, and that brought a lot of negative feelings bubbling up. But you both didn't want commitment. You were terrified of being vulnerable in that way and he, well… he just loved the attention.

Mark's cousin Haechan was hosting a game night with some friends, and Mark wanted you to come along and meet everyone. When you two arrived at Haechan’s house, you introduced yourself, and the first words out of Haechan's mouth were:

“Are you the one that called on Christmas?”

Immediately, Mark jumped into action to try to shut Haechan up. He stood in front of you and blocked Haechan from view, mumbling, “No, that was someone else.” You knew he had a previous situationship leading up to your situationship with him; this was no secret. You knew this because you were the one to talk him through the end of that relationship. You just hadn't realized how intense it must've been if Mark was bringing that "friend with benefits" to meet the family.

You had small talk with Haechan, asking him what his major was, and he asked yours. He offered you drinks and snacks, and you took a seat on the sectional with Mark taking the seat right next to you. You two were in your own little world, giggling about god knows what while he had his arm around you, when all of a sudden the door behind you swings open.

“MARK PLEASE TELL ME YOU HAVE DONE THE ENGINEERING HOMEWORK!” the disheveled boy yelled. You giggled because of how insane this random man appeared with his backpack barely slung over his shoulder, hair a mess, running up to take a seat on the couch diagonal to you two.

“Y/N, this is Jaemin. Jaemin, this is Y/N.”

Jaemin’s brain is going a million miles an hour, and the first thing he thinks to ask is:

“Are you two dating?”

You and Mark look at each other, and he says, “No, we’re just friends.”

“Oh," Jaemin says, "Well, it looks like you two are dating.”

Jaemin proceeds to talk to Mark about whatever homework they had, and his whole demeanor has you nearly falling off the couch with how hard he has you laughing. He has major himbo energy and says everything with so much passion. At one point, he ends a story he's telling with, “WHATEVER FUCKOOO!”

Soon, more of Haechan and (kind of) Mark's friends start showing up. A tall guy who catches your eye greets you. He says his name is Johnny and makes light conversation with you, asking how you know Mark and Haechan and asking how long you've lived in the city. Two guys walk in who are semi-shy and kind of just talking to each other. Mark tells you they're younger and more on the shy side, especially with people they don't know. They are, however, ready to play games and are super impatient, not willing to wait for the rest of the group. There are also three guys in the corner smoking, waiting for more people to show up. One of them catches your eye as his dimples are on display while giggling with his friends. Eventually, the rest of the group shows up, and the party can begin.

Haechan loads up Jackbox Games, and your group plays Trivia Murder Party for a few rounds, and then, a guy named Yuta says he thinks the group should play Quiplash. There are a few rounds where you make some pretty good jokes, and all of the guys hype you up, telling Mark he brought someone super funny to game night. You even make a quip at Mark's expense, and Jaemin high-fives you. At this point, you've had a few drinks, and you aren't drunk, just tipsy. But you absolutely need to pee. You ask Mark where the bathroom is, since this is his cousin's house, and Mark leads you to the bathroom, waiting for you outside the door. Once you’re done, he drags you to the empty bedroom across from the bathroom and lays back on the bed, pulling you down you on top of him.

“Are you having fun?” he looks up at you.

“Mhm," you hum, "are you?”

“Yeah."

"Your friends are nice. Jaemin's super funny. I can't believe he's real,” you giggle.

"Yeah, he is... ok, c'mon. Let’s go back before they think we’re having sex or something," he says abruptly. You thought his response was weird, but you didn't think too much about it.

Upon returning to the living room, you see your seat on the couch was stolen by a few of the guys, and you are now forced to sit on a recliner in the corner to watch the game from there. There’s only one seat though, so you just stand while Mark takes the seat.

“What are you doing?" he questions, "Come on. Sit down.”

You pause. “I-I'm okay. I don’t want to like hurt your legs or anyth-”

Mark pulls you down on his lap, so you’re forced to sit down on him. He asks if you want to smoke, and you take a singular hit, not really interested in doing that, and watch the game from afar. Jaemin has his eyes trained on you two, and you feel his stare. You turn to look at him, and he yells from across the room, “Are you sure you guys aren’t dating?”

You giggle saying, "Yes, we’re sure we aren’t dating."

He tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy and proceeds to ask “So, are you guys cousins?” and you cannot stop yourself from keeling over because what does he MEAN?? What kind of line of questioning is that? Why would his brain jump from dating to cousins? You look at Mark incredulously as you both laugh and confirm once again that you are just friends.

You two keep watching the game, rather than participate, and go back to your own little world until Mark decides he’s ready to go home. You follow him out, saying a single goodbye to everyone in the room. Everyone bids you goodbye in their own way with many of the guys saying how nice it was to meet you and how you should definitely come to game night again. You two walk out and Mark unlocks the car before remembering he has to go back in to get something from Haechan. You sit and wait in the car, smiling to yourself, and text your best friend about game night. You make sure to mention the beautiful man you met and how funny it was that he asked if you and Mark were cousins.

Once he enters the car, he slides his hand onto your thigh.

“Did you have fun?” he asks, leaning in to give you a kiss.

“Yes, actually. I really didn't think I would, but that was so nice and all of your friends seem so cool! Jaemin is such a himbo it’s so funny... I can’t believe you guys are taking the same classes.” you add.

You don't notice, but Mark's hand clenches the steering wheel. He doesn’t say anything and begins the drive home. You stop by the grocery store on your way home to pick up some snacks, and everything between you and Mark seems pretty light hearted.

You get back to Mark’s place, shower, and change into pajamas. You two sit on the couch for a bit longer watching shows and just snacking, cuddled up together. You get up to go to the restroom, leaving your phone behind on the coffee table, and when you come back, Mark is in a noticeably different mood. His body language is tense, and he’s moved away from your original spot.

“Markie… what’s wrong?” you ask, still standing.

“Nothing. What are you talking about?”

“It just seems like... like there’s something bothering you,” you insisted.

“Why would anything be bothering me? You’re literally making something out of nothing!” he snapped.

Now, you're officially in a bad mood.

“Fine then! Forget I even asked,” you huffed, collapsing onto the opposite side of the couch to go through your phone.

Half an hour later, your anger has subsided, and you're back to being invested in the show you’re watching. Then, the leading man betrays his love interest.

“Ughhhhhh," you drone, "Why does every man suck? Like even him? You have to be joking.”

“I bet Jaemin would never do that…” Mark mumbled mockingly from his side of the couch.

“What the actual fuck did you just say?” you snarled.

“Nothing.”

“Please do not fucking tell me that you’re upset over Jaemin, a man I only just met a few hours ago,” you scoffed.

“Oh, so you’re counting the hours,” Mark said, not even looking at you.

“Mark, shut the fuck up! What are you saying right now? What is your deal? I don’t even know or care about Jaemin!”

“You sure seemed to care when you texted your friend about how hot and funny you thought he was,” he said, finally looking up at you to see your reaction.

“Motherfucker, you went through my phone? Again? Are you fucking joking? Why would you do that?”

“I didn’t! I saw you texting it,” he tried to say, but you knew that was a lie because you had texted your friend right when you got into the car. He absolutely went through your phone, but this was not the first time.

“You’re a fucking liar, Mark. I know you didn’t see me texting it. And either way, what does it matter to you? Newsflash! In case you weren't aware, I’m not your girlfriend! You made sure of it, and you also made sure everyone knew that tonight!”

Mark scoffed, “What did you want me to say to them? 'Oh yeah we’re fucking’?”

“it doesn’t matter what you say to them because we aren’t anything. And that means you don’t get to be upset over me texting my friend that i thought your friend was attractive," you emphasize, "You’ve done far worse or would you like me to remind you about your sexting with Winter or sending good morning and goodnight texts to Arin when you couldn’t even find two seconds to text me back even if it was just to let me know you were busy?"

Mark sits there knowing he can't say anything to that.

"You have even less of a right to be upset because of all the shit you pull all of the time, so I’m not going to apologize for sending my friend one text about a cute boy I will probably never see again." you finish.

“So you would want to see him again?” he tries to say steadily, but his voice cracks.

You look up and see that Mark is looking at the ground now and has tears in his eyes.

“Mark…” you put your arm around him and embrace him.

“I get it, though, like he’s so much more than I could ever be," he sniffles, "He’s so funny without even trying, and he’s just so cute and attractive and everything about him screams 'y/n's type.' I don’t blame you for being interested.”

He pushes himself up to lock eyes with you. “It’s only you, you know? I know you saw the texts or whatever with other girls, but I only care about you. No one else could ever be you. I promise that at the end of the day, no matter what, I only want you.”

He looks down at your lips and hesitates before he kisses you. The kiss starts off slow and slowly progresses into a more passionate, needy one. Mark is grabbing at your hips, your stomach, your arms, whatever he can get a grip on. He starts whining and pulls away, “Please take off your clothes, sweetheart. I need you.”

You both strip down in his living room. Mark carefully lays you down on the couch and lines himself up with your pussy before slowly pushing himself in all the way without any issue. You guess high intensity and emotional situations just make you wet now after all the arguments you've had with this man.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight," he praises, "You always make me feel so big. it always feels like the first time.”

You moan and beg Mark to move, and slowly, he does. While there’s still a desperate neediness in the air, Mark is moving slowly and intentionally. He keeps his eyes fixed on yours while caressing your body. He praises every inch of you that he touches, littering you with compliments. He traces a finger along every curve and focuses on tracing circles on your tits, teasing your nipple ever so slightly before finally taking the buds between his fingers. He squeezes them, eliciting moans from your "pretty little mouth" as he calls it. He keeps one hand focused on your breast while he uses the other arm to hold himself up as he leans down to kiss you, maintaining the slow but steady rhythm. You wrap your legs and arms around him, pinning him to your chest. This position makes it so much more intimate, and you swear that he's hitting even deeper. The combination is pushing you right up to the edge. By the way Mark starts moaning, you can tell he feels the same.

“Fuck baby, I'm so close,” he groans

“Please cum inside me, Mark. I need it so bad.”

“Ugh, f-fuck, beautiful, I can’t until you do. Please cum with me baby and- fuck- and I’ll fill you up as much as you want.”

His words send you over the edge, catapulting you into a strong radiating orgasm. Your hands are grasping at his arms and back, leaving scratches in their wake, you're sure. It’s very different from what you’ve previously experienced, muted but long lasting, and you can feel it all over. Your orgasm triggers his, and he continues to fuck you through it until the overstimulation becomes too much. He pulls out of you and grabs some wipes to wipe you and himself down. He lays you down in bed and makes his way to lay down right alongside you. He sits up and places his hand on your cheek, turning your head to make you look at him.

“I-" he hesitated, "I’m sorry I went through your phone again,” he says, rubbing his thumb back and forth along your cheekbone.

“It’s okay, Mark,” you reassure him.

“I just- I knew you’d like him. I could tell from the way you were looking at him and how he was looking at you. That kid is never interested in other people’s relationships. I knew he was asking if we were dating, so he could ask you out, and it made me freak out," he sighs.

“You have no way of knowing that, Markie,” you reason.

“Regardless, I meant what I said. I know we aren’t official, but I'm only loyal to you.”

He lays back down, and you say nothing.

You say nothing because this is a conversation you have often.

You say nothing because as much as you want to commit to Mark, you probably also aren’t ready.

You say nothing because the previous statement is probably a lie you tell yourself to make yourself feel better in this relationship you have with him.

You say nothing because you know there will be more instances of you finding text messages with other girls in which he gives them more compliments/attention/time than he gives you.

You say nothing because you know he isn’t loyal to you at all, and you’d rather not start another fight tonight.

You say nothing because there is nothing here to fight for.

You say nothing as he falls asleep in your arms, and you see his phone light up with a text.

jaemin: yo so is your friend single

[logan-fields-official]

Anyways, I wanted to ask how the sbg crew would react to reader style is 2000s that includes low rise jeans, styling thongs,piercings, etc? In which, they always think she’s a bitch for her style but is the most sweetest person ever? Please and thank you if you have the time!!

GUESS WHOS BACK! BACK AGAIN! Random appears 2 days before Christmas! ANYWAYS SORRY I HAVENT BEEN POSTING LATELY I HAVENT HAD MUCH MOTIVATION PLUS HAVING TO MAKE PEOPLE STUFF FOR CHRISTMAS!!! Anyways I’m probably gonna just slowly update this post so if all of the main six aren’t on here it’s because I haven’t gotten to them yet.

SBG Main Six x 2000s style reader

Ashlyn: Ashlyn doesn’t really care about your style or you in general before she gets to know you and all that savanna stuff, but sometimes finds it kind of weird when you appear around school wearing some graphic t-shirt, belts, and hoop earrings.

Now from the way you dress, act, and the people she sees talking to and around you, she thinks your a total bitch. So when you were put into her group for the Savanna field trip she was pissed. Not only did she have to deal with people Aiden, but she has deal with you to.

But after spending the day with you throughout the field trip she figure out that you might not be a rude person like she thought you would be. Though she’s still skeptical of you.

That completely changes though when you end up shoving her and Taylor ahead of you and putting yourself between them and the phantom. That was when she figured out that you were 100% a lot nicer then she thought.

To say she was surprised was an understatement. I mean how could someone as nice as you hang out with those jackasses? That was the moment Ashlyn had seemed to open up a hint more to you.

Aiden: Aiden was 100% intrigued by your outfit choice and honestly would probably judge you a bit. He would just watch you walk around school oddly confident and talking with some of the hugest dicks at school like there the nicest people.

Now being the blunt and doesn't think anything through boy he is, he just randomly walked up to you one day and goes "Hi im Aiden, I've seen you around school a couple of times and was wondering if you were as much as a bitch as you look." You just stand there awkwardly very confused.

Then after a moment you tell Aiden that you personally don't think of yourself as a bitch and you don't know where he heard that from as no one at the school usually calls you a bitch. He'll just answer with something like "oh I just assumed because the people you hang out with are dicks."

After that I feel like he would try to hang out with you and try to take up as much of your free time as possible. He does that so you don't hang around all those mean kids. Introduces you to thr group and though they were a bit skeptical of you they eventually warm up.

Ben: Can't really judge your style as he's seen usually in just a grey shirt and jeans. Ben would be quite wary of you because of your bitchy vibe. He'd probably try to avoid you to the best of his ability.

Until one day you guys get paired up for some work project, which is house you ended up at his Aidens house and it just so happened to be a day Lily was gonna be there. Ben kept a close eye on you as he didn't want you around his little sister.

Though at some point throughout the project while Ben's in the bathroom Lily happened to want to play a game with Ben and this mystery person he brought in. Of course you said yes, but while you were playing Ben had walked in he was a little nervous and ready to kick your ass because of Lily's little screams.

But he's just meant with you and Lily playing a game together and that Lily's not screaming, but squealing. That moment just changed Ben's whole perspective on you. Ben was actually a lot nicer and wrote stuffed down in his notebook to communicate with you more.

Logan: This boy would not judge you at least to your face. He’ll probably think your styles a bit weird sometimes especially when you style your thongs.

Of course he’ll be hella nervous about talking to you or anything like that because well he sees you around all these big bullies, including Barron.

That all changed though when one day Barron was being the bully he is and had Logan pinned against a locker, punching and hitting him. Logan was just face down trying not to cry cause damn the punch fucking hurt.

Now Logan didn’t expect anyone to stand up for him, until you did. You had marched right up to Barron shoving him off of Logan and asking Barron is he was out of his fucking mind. Logan was just standing there watching you and Barron argue.

You at some point ended up just punching Barron and dragged Logan away with you. After you dragged Logan away from Barron, you lead him into some empty classroom. You then preceded to patch him up and make sure he was okay and that was when Logan realized that just maybe you were a kindhearted person.

Taylor: Taylor as we know is a huge sweetheart. So Taylor would probably not judge you at all. Correction She wouldn’t judge you at all. She would though you seem like a mean person believe that you just look mean and are actually a nice person.

Though she would question how nice you actually are because of you being around people like Barron. She would be nice to you though anytime you talk to her.

This all changed when Taylor was walking around the park one day to see you playing with some of the younger kids pushing them on the swing and everything.

Tyler: Tyler being the usual ass he is will 100% judge your looks all the time. He might not say it directly to you unless you start shit with him, but he 100% thinks you look goofy.

Believes your the biggest asshole ever because of the whole thing with Barron and his goons. He won’t talk to you and no matter how sweetly you try to talk to him or act around him it won’t change his opinion. He still thinks your a dick.

He started to think differently when some bitch tried to start shit with Taylor and before Tyler or Taylor could say shit you immediately jumped in and started cursing the hoe out. Tyler was shocked like what the fuck? He thought you were a bitch, but maybe you aren’t?

You had managed to befriend Taylor and Tyler didn’t quite like that, but he had some respect for you because of you helping his sister. Though his respect for you only grew more when you ended up coming over to their house and being an absolute sweetheart to their mom.

HOLY YAP! I never realized how much I could talk. YAY I FINISHED IT!!!

[haveateadude]

bleak horizons ii.

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ christmas and hot chocolate

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ depression, family issues, and i think that's it?? it's mostly fluff??

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ why is it christmas you might be wondering... well i don't fucking know okay??😭😭wrote this when i was in another country and it was cold and it reminded me of christmas so i wrote this. anyway. this one is boring as FUCK... just saying. i'm embarrassed about posting this actually. also, i accidentally put this on chat gpt and it gave me more than 10 things i had to fix so. don't get your hopes up LMAO

hope y'all have a great day, night, morning or whatever. take care of yourselves!!!!!!! if u don't you're an asshole.

AND THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT ON MY LAST POST!!!!!!!!! i love everyone who liked it :)) even just knowing people have read it makes my heart warm. i really thought it would get cero recognition, y'all are amazing <3

(readers mental health gets addressed in the next chapter btw)

(not proofread either, sorry if there's any mistake)

pt1 — pt2 — pt3

i don't wanna talk about anything

i wanna kiss, kiss your eyes again

wanna witness your eyes looking

For Christmas, I go to Ellie's house, and I lie to my mother about having too much work. She says it's fine, which weirds me out. I never thought she would say yes. I’m excited and happy to go to Ellie’s house, anyway. This is important, I feel—meeting her family, I mean. She never speaks much about them, but I know she's adopted, and that she gets along with them. She also never met her mother. She says she had her aunt to teach her all that Joel couldn't, like what periods were, how to wash her clothes, and how to paint her nails with her left hand.

I think a part of me is afraid to go because I'm afraid I'll get attached. My mother never taught me what periods were and my father never seemed to know what empathy was. Her family sounds like a dream to me.

"We’re here," Ellie says with a smile on her face as she pulls up on the side of the road next to a white house. It’s got a green lawn, it looks nicely cared for, and a white picket fence. I take a deep breath, I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I think Ellie senses that. She puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it, which feels comforting. "Hey, just know my dad is really fucking chill. It’s just going to be us, and my uncle's family. They’re going to love you, I promise."

"Okay," I nod because I know it and that's what I'm afraid of. I look outside the window. It’s Christmas Eve. It's already snowing. I then stare at Ellie's eyes and smile. I kiss her and when I pull apart I speak. "I don't want to go out, it's cold."

"C’mon, let’s go inside then. I don’t want you to freeze in this car."

I nod and fix my hair in the mirror before I go out. The cold makes me unable to feel my face or my hands, so when I go inside I'm a bit surprised by how warm it is. Ellie makes me hand her my coat and my stuff, and she puts mine and hers aside.

The house inside looks way better than it does outside. The lights are dim, the Christmas tree has colorful lights wrapped around it, and it smells like an apple pie is cooking. It feels like an actual home, and the chimney is decorated with socks, and next to it, on the wall, are pictures of young Ellie.

"You look cute," I tell her, speaking about the photos, as she walks towards me.

She blushes, her ears go red, "Uh, you weren't meant to see that."

"Oh, stop it," I chuckle. "You look adorable.”

"I bet you looked way more adorable than me."

"I looked like a disfigured mosquito with a big ass."

Ellie laughs as her hand goes to my hip, "First of all, if you were a disfigured mosquito—which you're not by the way—I would still like you; second of all, I love your big ass."

"Oh, so that's all you love about me?" I ask, teasingly, slightly tilting my head. "Just my ass?"

I feel Ellie's hands move downwards, nearly gripping my butt, before I hear someone clearing their throat. I'm so red I'm not even a tomato... I probably look like a fucking chili pepper or something.

I know it's Joel because Ellie has a picture of him with her on her nightstand. She looks at Joel as her hands linger on my hips for a second, then she takes them off and walks towards him.

"Joel," Ellie says, hugging him. "Hey, old man."

"Kiddo, you've grown so much."

"I look the same as last month."

"Yeah, just thought it’d make you feel better."

Ellie laughs as she pulls apart. I just stand there, awkwardly behind Ellie. Finally, Joel looks at me.

"Oh, hi," he says, now looking at me. "Ellie has talked a lot about you."

I nod, "Thanks for letting me stay, Mr. Miller."

"Just call me Joel."

"Well," Ellie interrupts. "We're going to my room, I'll talk to you later."

"Okay, I'll tell you when Tommy and Maria get here."

Ellie takes our bags, which she insists on doing alone, and leads me to her room.

Her room, it's… so her. Posters of bands cover every inch of her walls, and her desk is stained with paint.

I sit on her bed and look around as she sits next to me.

"I like your room," I tell her, feeling her knee bump against mine. She's so close to me I can feel her breath on my neck. 

"It’s messy, though." She’s looking at me, but I can't dare to look at her. 

I feel guilty for not being at home now, it gnaws at me. Is mom alone? And why do I care? Why do I feel guilt over the person who made me hurt more? She always wants to fight—there's always constant battles between us, battles she always wins. So why do I miss her and why is it hard to accept?

"What are you thinking?"

I chuckle, "It’s nothing."

"Well—alright," she lets the subject the subject slip. She kisses my cheek and then my lips and her hands roam my body. We just make out, though.

Christmas dinner goes fine. Better than I thought it would. The Millers are like a real family, they talk to me like they've known me for years, even though I feel like an intruder in their house. I don't want to be fond of them, or else I'll cling to them like they're family.

Maria and Tommy have a baby and most of the night is spent with Ellie cradling the baby and me sitting next to him. We drink hot chocolate with marshmallows. This is the happiest I've ever been at Christmas.

At night, I leave Ellie's warm embrace to go for a glass of water. I can't sleep, my mind is racing and it won't shut off.

When I go downstairs Joel is sitting at the kitchen table, I don't know what to say to him. Which is okay, because he speaks first.

"Can't sleep?" He asks.

For a moment I think he has confused me for Ellie, because why is he talking to me?

"Yeah," I say, getting my glass of water.

"I won't give the 'hurt my daughter and I'll kill you' talk if that's what you're worried about."

I try to laugh, "Thanks, I guess. You're—you're a great dad."

"Well, you're a great kid."

"Thank you," I answer because I don't know what else to say. He's indeed a great dad. He's funny and nice and caring. I've seen the way he talks to Ellie. Unlike my father he doesn't look at her daughter like he's trying to fix their relationship, therefore their conversations don't look forced; Ellie has referred to me as her girlfriend at Christmas dinner, and all Joel did was smile. It made me want to throw up, even if I felt welcomed.

"Hey—uh, I'm sorry if I approach this in the wrong way… but Ellie has told me that your mother is causing you trouble."

"Yeah," I don't know what to say, again. How do I answer this? How should I feel about this? "She's been a little difficult, but you know. It's the normal mother-daughter fight, nothing to worry about."

"Okay," he nods. "If you want you can talk to me, or Ellie—she's… she's been a little worried."

I hadn't seen that coming. Is Ellie's worried?

"I—I will talk to her. Thank you."

She doesn't want you. She's your friend, she doesn't want you. She will fall in love with you, not your brain nor your scars, and when she finds out about the way you think she'll leave.

I want to say Mr. Miller but I know he wants me to call him Joel—which makes me a little awkward. "I'm going to sleep now."

"Get the rest you need," he smiles. "Leave the cup on the table, I'll wash it."

I wake up being the little spoon.

Ellie has her arms wrapped around me like she's afraid I'll leave. As I slowly open my eyes I can also feel Ellie shifting behind me.

"Morning," she speaks in her morning voice, the vibration of her voice against my neck sends shivers down my spine—in a good way.

I smile, "Hey."

"How did you sleep?"

"More than good. Your bed is very comfortable."

"Yeah," she pulls me closer to her front, "I could stay here forever."

We don't stay there forever, though, because we open presents. It's just Joel, Ellie, and me. Surprisingly there's one for me from Joel, and Maria and Tommy.

Ellie gave me a necklace and a ring, which might seem simple to others but I had been planning on buying it for a fucking long while. It always was out of sale. And the ring had a moon on it.

"Fuck, Ellie," I say as I look at her, sitting on the floor with my legs crossed. "This is amazing, I love this."

"Yeah?" She asks. She's sitting next to me, her legs stretched out, resting her weight on one of her arms behind her. I notice she looks flushed. Her cheeks are slightly more pink than they always are.

I nod, kissing her, "Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

She chuckles after I give her one last kiss, "Time to open mine now, I guess."

I look at her as she opens what I gave her. It's small, compared to what she gave me. Is just one of the first pictures we took together framed, just after I moved in. I also gave her a white silver beaded bracelet I had made.

"I remember this day," she says, looking at the picture. "I remember I was trying to impress you all day long, you know? I just wanted to make you laugh... and well, you did."

I chuckle, "I did laugh at all your jokes, but I think that's just because I have a very shitty humor."

"I'm glad we share it."

Ellie looks at the bracelet and the framed photo with a tender smile, her eyes glistening.

"I love it," she says softly, as she puts the photo down, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love you."

Her words make my heart race, and I feel my cheeks heat up.

"I love you too," I reply, my voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside me. I think this is the happiest I've ever been; I think I'll remember this moment forever.

We spend the rest of the morning together, laughing and sharing stories. For the first time in a long while, I feel like I belong somewhere.

After breakfast, as Ellie and I sit on the couch with our fingers intertwined, Joel comes over with a cup of hot chocolate.

"Merry Christmas, you two," he says with a kind smile, handing us the mugs.

"Merry Christmas," I say.

Alright, yeah. This might be the best Christmas I've ever had.