#Jonathan Pine x Reader

[thezombieprostitute]

Royal Mess: Almost Perfect

Summary: Jonathan Pine has had a perfect career, except for you, a maid whose klutzy nature makes things more difficult.

A/N: Reader is plus sized and female. No other descriptors used.

Warnings: Injury, Work stress. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part of the Royal Vows AU.

Jonathan had been a butler in the service of King Rogers for almost his entire career. He'd gotten the role after serving alongside Prince Ari during his required military service. He'd impressed the Prince so much that, when Jonathan asked for employment at the palace, it was immediately granted. Since that time, he worked his way up to becoming the greatest butler in multiple kingdoms, if the royal guests were to be believed.

He's appreciated by the royals he serves and even the staff he employs. He's never been too good to roll up his sleeves and help out where needed. He pays attention to the staff and their needs and is often generous with praise. Work at the palace pays very well and Jonathan knows how to motivate employees to do their best.

But right now his face is in his hand as he tries to keep calm about the broken 100 year old vase on his desk. You'd cleaned up the mess but brought him the pieces in the hopes he knew some way it could be repaired. It probably could, but that was beside the point.

"This is the third item this month," he states in a tone that makes your face drop in embarrassment. "At the very least, I can say that's an improvement from the last month. I think keeping you out of the Garden and Ground floors has worked well."

"Thank you, Mr. Pine," you mumble, not trusting yourself to say more.

"What happened this time?"

"I was vacuuming the guest suite, as you ordered. Getting it nice and clean for the Princess of Carga. I...I tripped over the vacuum cord and reached out to catch my fall but...I...I ended up grabbing the cloth the vase was on."

Tears start forming at the corner of your eyes as you recall. You really didn't mean to break anything. You never do. It's been your one saving grace with Mr. Pine. He knows you're not malicious and that you really need the work. Some items can be repaired but always at a cost you can't afford.

He sighs heavily, "are you certain there is no other employment available to you?"

The tears start pouring. "I promise, Mr. Pine, I promise I've looked. But no one else can pay enough for me and my mother unless I spend years either going to school or building a skill with an apprenticeship."

"But that would be years without a steady income," he nods in understanding. "Well, as I said, only three priceless items broken in a month is an improvement." You shrink further into yourself at the reminder of how precious the items you've broken are. "And you are very diligent in your work, not everyone is so dedicated to getting every nook and cranny. So do not worry about your employment at this time."

You let out a sob of relief. "Thank you, Mr. Pine. I promise to keep improving."

He gives a curt nod. "Just please remember to treat every item in the palace as if it were as fragile as a butterfly wing?"

"Oh, that's a good way to think about it, Sir. Each piece is so beautiful but so fragile. I promise I'll get that to work!"

He simply nods again and gestures for you to leave. Thankfully he doesn't comment when you almost trip over your own feet.

It's all hands on deck for the Princess's arrival. Jonathan has been working overtime to make sure the Royal Family doesn't have to worry about any of it. Every member of his staff has their part to play and he's on alert for things going wrong. While it may not be humanly possible to achieve perfection, he will get it as close as he can.

Knowing you don't do well in fast paced, high stress environments Jonathan assigned you to the rooms where the Princess's servants would be staying. You were part of the team helping them settle in and showing them where things are.

The team lead, Arne, was not a fan. He's repeatedly told Mr. Pine that he should fire you and seemed to go out of his way to remind you of everything you've ever broken. When you found out he was leading the team, you gulped and made yourself as small as possible.

When the Princess and her ensemble arrive, Arne directs your team to the servants' entrance where you stand in a line and wait for a box to carry inside.

Your heart drops when Arne hands you one of the bigger boxes with a huff. You almost drop it immediately because of how heavy it is.

"Careful!" he yells as you struggle. "And hurry up. Gotta make sure everyone does their share of the work."

"Yes, Sir," you mumble, finally getting a firm grip on the box.

Trying to hurry without rushing only adds to the difficulty of the task. If you rush, you're more likely to make a mistake but if you're too slow, Arne will yell and make more trouble for Mr. Pine.

You're so focused on your task you forget about the small threshold between the top of the stairs and guest rooms. As you feel yourself start to fall you know you can't drop this box! Not just for the Princess but for Mr. Pine as well! You can't embarrass him!

You're not sure how you manage it but you twist yourself so that the heavy box lands on top of you instead of the other way around. You get the wind knocked out of you but you didn't hear anything break! Well, at least not from the box. You're definitely going to be bruised from this. But you don't let that damper your mood. You saved it!

"Keep it moving!" Arne yells from the bottom of the stairs. "Ain't paying you to rest your fat ass!"

Getting up you try to respond but you breathing is still not easy so you focus on getting the box moved. It's much more of a struggle than before but you're determined.

"Here, let me help," Max, one of your team members steps up. "That had to hurt. Maybe you should sit?"

"No rest!" Arne barks, now at the top of the stairs. "If she can't keep up, she shouldn't be here. Besides, she's got plenty of cushion to pad her fall."

"Sir, it landed on top of her!"

"Well it's about time she learned how to not break anything important."

Trying to ignore the argument you try to get back to work carrying the heavy box. Your lungs are on fire and your vision is getting blurry but you're determined to prove yourself. To not embarrass Mr. Pine. To do your part.

As soon as the box is in place you work your way back down to the truck. Max walks with you, continually asking if you're ok. When Arne tries to give you another of the big, heavy boxes, Max grabs it for you.

"Please, sir, I really think she needs to rest," he implores.

"If she needs a rest after tripping over her own feet, she should be docked her pay!"

"That's not for you to decide," you hear Mr. Pine say. All three of you look to his direction. "Today is supposed to go perfectly but I'm already getting wind of complaints from Her Majesty's staff, concerned about the working conditions of the King's staff."

He pointedly looks at Arne who turns red in the face. "There were concerns about a hurt servant being forced to continue working under threat of losing employment. Which is strange to me because, last I checked, I'm the one who makes those decisions. And I have not threatened anyone. Yet."

"She's not able to carry the damn thing, so why should she be here?"

"Mr. Pine, if I may?" Max approaches. Mr. Pine gives a nod and he continues. "She was given a box that was recommended for two people to carry for safety's sake. She got it up there on her own, after tripping in such a way that the thing landed on her. I think she's earned some rest, if not a visit to the hospital."

Mr. Pine looks to you and finally notices your breathing is off and you look faint. He rushes over to you and starts making mental note of symptoms.

"You will sit," he orders you, walking you over to one of the lawn chairs.

"Please, Mr. Pine," you say between gasps. "I can still work. Don't want to ruin today."

"You have done nothing wrong," he asserts. "If anything--"

His words are cut off as you blackout.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @peaches1958; @ronearoundblindly

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Time for Cheer

Warnings: non/dubcon, dysfunctional family, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: After your Christmas is ruined, you find an unlikely saviour.

Character: Jonathan Pine

Day Eight of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - finding your home away from home

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“It wasn’t the transmission, it was the fuel line,” your father snarls. 

“Then why did replacing the transmission fix the problem,” Aiden spits back. 

They’re having another of their pointless arguments. It’s more of a weighing of the egos. It’s not entirely unusual for them to spend hours trying to one up the other or prove the other wrong, but you thought Christmas might be a respite. That assumption seems foolish the more you think about it. There’s never been a good enough excuse to just stop. 

Your family has never been like other families. There are no cute matching sweaters or festive photos. The only tradition is to see who you can make feel the worst. You know better than to tell either of them to cut it out, otherwise you’ll just be drawn into their race to the bottom. 

Besides, you have bigger things to worry about. Dinner. Every year you fight to make the perfect spread and every year, something ruins it. Usually, your family. 

Last year, your dad couldn’t get over the ‘watery’ gravy and the year before that, your brother whined because someone put beans on his plate and he hates green beans. For an adult, he sure does act like the same seven-year-old brat that used to scream about bathing. 

You feel just as stagnant. The holidays are just the stamp on the year, sealing your lack of progress. Year after year and you’re still here. Still filling the hole your mother left all those years ago. You can’t even blame her. You can only blame yourself for not following her lead and running for the hills. 

Vivien arrives just as you baste the turkey and check the temperature. It’s only noon and there’s some hours to go. Your father and brother don’t stop arguing even as the churlish voices of children rise in the entryway. Your sister’s children are another obstacle to your endeavour. 

“Hey, Viv,” you say as your sister appears in the doorway. 

“Any wine?” She asks. 

“There’s beer,” you shrug. You don’t drink, she knows that. 

“Beer?” She mutters. 

“I don’t know. Dad could have some whiskey hidden in the garage--” 

“Whatever,” she huffs. 

“You can put the pies on the counter.” 

“Pies?” She echoes, “what pies?” 

You brace yourself and take a deep breath. You face her, “you said you were bringing pies.” 

“No, I said they had the pumpkin pies at the grocery, I never said I’d bring them,” she shakes her head. 

“No, you said--” 

“Why would I bring the pies? I have three brats to take care of a husband. I got enough to spend my hard-earned money on,” she sneers. 

You flinch. Hard-earned? You don’t remember the last time she worked. She calls you about every other week to complain that Chuck’s overtime still didn’t break even. 

“It’s fine,” you go to the cupboard and take out your emergency can of apples. “No pumpkin but I’ll figure something out. Maybe crisp?” 

“See, you got this,” she says as she goes to the fridge and steals one of your father’s Molsons. 

“Viv,” her husband calls from the other room as something crashes. 

“Ugh, he can never do anything by himself,” she mutters as she cracks the tab. 

You shake your head. Your father’s holler joins the chaos of voices. The kids whine as one of them cries, and your dad yells about whatever’s broken. 

You won’t be lured into the storm. Vivien couldn’t offer to help you in the kitchen. This is her chance to get drunk and let her husband wallow in the destruction. Your father never lifts a finger in the kitchen past opening the fridge and your brother would only get in your way. 

As you forge on, you can’t help but wonder why you bother. What do you ever get in return? Not even a thanks and you only end up cleaning the mess after. Well, what other choice do you have? You’ve been pushing the same boulder uphill for almost twenty years and you still haven’t gotten over the apex. 

You manage to scrounge enough together to fill a pan with the impromptu crisp. You have everything prepped and ready to cook in intervals; bean casserole, sweet potatoes, regular potatoes, corn, and carrots. Even if everything else is a mess, dinner should be good. 

You open the stove and slide apple crisp in next to the turkey. It won’t be your best work. As you shut the oven door, there’s a sudden clatter behind you. You spin as the bowls hit the floor and their contents scatter with the shards of broken glass. Viv’s oldest, Cameron, swings around his hockey stick, stomping over the mess. 

You stand stunned and paralysed. You blink as tears burn behind your eyes and your hands shake in horror and rage slowly builds from your stomach to throat. You can only stare at the clueless child as he wiggles the stick proudly.  

“See what I got for Christmas?” 

You sway. He’s eleven years old. He knows better. Or he should. 

“What the hell is all that nonsense?” Your father yells as he clamours into the doorway. “Now whatcha gone and done--” 

As he turns the blame on you, you wince as if you’ve been slapped. Cameron once more swings around his stick, playing with a sliced carrot like a puck. Your father’s voice fades into the back of your mind as your vision narrows. 

“You fix it. I’m done.” You shake your head as you swallow down your devastation. “I’m done.” 

“Done? What d’ya mean done?” He snarls as you brush past him. He follows you down the hall to the front door. 

“It’s over. I’m not doing it again. I’m not cooking for you animals anymore,” you rip your jacket off the hooks and shove your feet into your well-worn boots. “You want a Christmas dinner, figure it out yourself.” 

“You can’t just walk out.” He slurs. 

“I’m going.” 

“Where? Huh? Going to find your mother?” 

You stop and face him. He knows it’s low but he doesn’t care. He always throws her in your face, like you ever had a say in what she did. You scowl. Before you can explode with the fury boiling in your chest, a knock comes at the door. Great, now you have witness to the storm. You don’t need another police report. Better deal with the neighbour. 

“Well, maybe she’s nicer than you,” you retort and spin around. 

You pull open the door and swiftly flit out, swinging it shut to muffle the bluster of shouting and smashing. Worse than Paula coming to complain about the noise, it’s the landlord. Of course. 

“Oh, Mr. Pine,” you greet in a fragile tone. 

“Hello, I see Christmas is in full effect,” he remarks kindly on the rabble behind the walls. 

“Sure is,” you utter. You look him over as he holds a wrapped basket. You don’t expect him. Especially on the holiday. “Um, what are you doing here?” 

“I bring holiday tidings. I hate to disturb you and your family but I’ve been making the rounds of my tenants and it’s been a bit more taxing than I would expect.” 

“Oh?” You furrow your brow. 

“This is for you. And your family,” he pushes the basket toward you. “Just a little gesture.” 

“Uh, wow, you...” you slowly take it, admiring the ribbon tied around the red plastic wrap, “that’s very generous but... I don’t have anything to give you.” 

“It is not given in the spirit of reciprocity,” he assures. “You know, I sadly could not make it home for the holiday but I’ve got many to share it with here so I thought I would.” 

“Well, that’s lovely,” you say. “I’m uh... on my way out actually so I’ll just leave it here.” 

You turn and put the basket on the wicker chair near the window. You feel Pine watching you. You turn back to his pensive gaze. He wears a nice grey coat and a deep blue scarf with silver edging. He is a perfect contrast to the disaster of your appearance. 

You zip up your coat to hide the food smear across your sweatshirt. You pull your hat from your pocket and tug it down over your hair. You near him and force a smile. 

“Thank you so much. I’m sure we’ll enjoy unwrapping all that later.” 

“Well, where are you off to then?” He sidles to the end of the steps, making way for you. 

“Um. Just going for a walk.” To be honest, you don’t know where you’re going. You didn’t make a plan. You just need to get out. 

“Would it be terribly rude to invite myself? It isn’t often I get to stroll through the neighbourhood.” He dips his chin down as the bitterness turns the tip of his nose pink. His blue eyes are pale but bright in the snowy atmosphere. 

“Uh, sure. Not much to see around here,” you shrug and descend the stairs. Your anger subsides for the roiling embarrassment nipping at your nape. 

He follows you down and you drag your treads along the walkway heavily. You turn down the street and he comes up next to you. You’re quiet as you wallow in agitation and humiliation. 

“Sounded like a very hectic affair,” he muses through the whistling winds. 

You snort. You can’t help yourself. “Yeah.” 

He hums as you carry on in a lull. You can appreciate that he doesn’t push it and yet the silence, welcomes your annoyance. You sigh. 

“It’s awful,” you breathe. 

He chuckles, “family can be a lot.” 

“Yeah, well, mine is just... we don’t even like each other.” You rub your cheeks as you speak. “I shouldn’t complain. It’s not your problem.” 

“Well, as you can see, I don’t have anything pressing to attend to. You are my last stop.” 

“Hm,” you sniff. You mull your temper and consider going back. The thought just sparks another flare in you. You shake your head at the idea. “They ruined dinner. Again. Every year--” you stop and click your tongue. “I can’t go back. Not today. So, I guess I’ll figure something else out.” 

“No? But surely, they would miss you.” 

“No, only what I do for them,” you roll your eyes. “Like I said, we’re enemies more than we are family. Not that it’s your problem.” You get to the end of the street, where the dead-end sign stands. “Look, you’re really nice bringing that by but you should go enjoy your Christmas somewhere warm. Alone. In peace.” 

“Ha, it seems we envy each other for what the other has,” he remarks. “You romanticize my solace and I can’t help but covet your lack of.” 

“Yeah, sure. Well, I should get the car cleared off. I’ll probably drive it down to the train station and sleep there.” 

He tilts his head. You realise what you’ve said as his forehead creases, “you say it as if it common.” 

“Won’t be the first or last time,” you say. “Look, you’ve heard enough of my problems. Really, I’m already embarrassed so please, just go.” 

He clicks his tongue, “and yet I fear I cannot.” He insists, “you see, I was raised to be a gentleman and that includes never leaving a woman in despair so, I cannot allow you to spend your Christmas behind the tracks. So, either I stay and we shiver together,” he gives a moment to quake in the frigid air, “or you come with me, gather your wits, and maybe a bit of warmth.” 

You scoff louder than ever, “and why would you do that?” 

“Well, it is Christmas,” he suggests, “and I am your landlord so is it not my onus to house you?” 

You laugh sardonically. He grins. 

“Come on, I have to confess, I don’t do well in the cold and I cannot feel my hands,” he drawls. 

You drop your chin and turn your hands out, “alright. Twist my arm.” 

“I would if I could bend my fingers,” he jibes. 

🎄

Pine lives further than you expect. You suppose you never thought much about it. Where he’s concerned, you only ever worried about making rent. Yet, subconsciously, you built up a man in his sophisticated condo, like a king in a tower. 

Instead, he drives past the city limits into the sparse rural lands where houses are set far apart around thickets of trees. It’s not entirely without sense. Out here, the wealthy can build without the confines of a city lot. 

He turns off toward a countryhouse with brown and white siding with black trims. The Tudor-style stands out amid the more farmhouse style facades. He pulls into the plowed lot as you stare up at the immaculate structure. The property he lets to you stands in a lowly contrast. You can’t help another twinge of insecurity. 

“Um, thanks... for this. I really appreciate it.” You wring your hands as he shuts off the engine. “I feel a bit stupid now.” 

“I wouldn’t. Sounds like you’ve a lot to be unhappy about. To think you’ve put up with so much for so long, a weaker person could not. Myself included,” he assures. 

He undoes his seat belt and you do the same. You mirror him in all your movements, taking his lead as you step onto unfamiliar ground. You come up the front steps of the house and he unlocks the broad wooden door. 

He lets you inside and you take your time slipping free of your boots. He leaves his salt-stained leather shoes on the mat and hangs his jacket on the rack in the corner. He takes your coat and puts it next to his. You pinch your thumbs between your knuckles anxiously as you look around the spacious and finely curated interior. 

“I’ve tea. Or hot cocoa. My mother sent me a specialty frother as a token of her absence,” he offers. 

“Oh, I'm okay,” you twist around as you examine the walls. “It’s a very nice house.” 

“A very nice but empty house,” he agrees. “I spent so long with the design and construction, I hardly thought of filling it up with more than things. Far too much for only one person.” 

“I guess everyone has different problems we don’t think of,” you say. “Like you said before, I’m whining about my family yet yours is so far away.” 

“Ah, yes, funny how we rarely get what we so desire,” he slithers. “So we covet what others have so much we cannot see any possible flaw.” 

“Right.” 

He waves you further inside. You’re quiet as he takes you on a brief tour; a front room, dining room, a large kitchen you could die for, a den, a back office, and that’s just the first floor. He brings you upstairs and shows you a guest room. 

“You might stay in here. I’ll find some clean sheets.” 

“No, I’m sure it’s fine.” You insist. “Thanks, again. Uh...” 

“I’m not much of a cook, but I could put together something. Cheese toasties and soup always do me well.” 

“Sure, that sounds great. I could help,” you suggest. 

“Only if you truly wish to,” he says. “But I don’t mind.” 

“I’d rather stay busy.” You reply. 

He nods and takes you back down to the kitchen. The meal isn’t very hard to put together. Melted cheese on toast and a jar of the gourmet soup they sell at the more expensive shops. It’s tasty too, warm and comforting even.  

Yet, you can’t help the glimmer of guilt in the back of your head. Your sister is probably throwing a fit, your father too. They’re ranting and raving about you walking out. Comparing you to your mother, as they always do to the worst people they know. It’s that dagger they keep sheathed until they’re ready to cut deep. 

Pine jars you from your worry as he takes your empty bowl and plate. You sit up at the table and thank him. He gestures you to stay before you can get up. 

You wait in the dining room. You put your hand in your hands and yawn. You feel like you did when you were a kid. When one of your friends invited you over and you realised how much better their house and their life was. 

“Tired,” Pine muses, “well, I will make up your bed then.” 

“Really, you don’t have to do all that,” you lift your head and bat away the fatigue. 

“I do,” he counters. “Shouldn’t take me very long. Feel free to explore. Or if you are so inclined, I've left a bottle and glass on the counter.” 

“Oh, uh, that’s sweet of you.” 

He goes and you stay just as you are. You feel like you could taint this place if you stray too far. When he returns, you feel sluggish. 

“Is there anything else I can get for you? A book to read?” 

“No, I think I’ll just lay down,” you get up and push the chair in. “I’ve already taken so much.” 

“Taken, you say, as if I’ve not given freely,” he smiles. “I’ve left you something to sleep in as well. I’m afraid my selection is limited.” 

“Thanks, uh, again,” you rub your neck. At this point, it’s becoming a chant. Thanking him for everything. 

You go upstairs and gently close the door of the guest room. He’s right, the house feels sonorously empty. It’s so big, that it’s almost desolate. You replace your clothes with the button-up he left over the duvet and climb into the lush bed. Even that makes your own seem like little more than a wooden pallet. 

It doesn’t take you long to sink into a sleep full of violent illusions. You’re back at home, your father yelling as you try to pick up the spilled potatoes, only for the glass to cut your fingers and stick in your flesh. No matter what you do, you can’t do more than slice yourself up, the blood smearing your skin and dripping onto the cracked tile. 

You wake with a start. Your heart races as you’re startled at the unfamiliar surroundings. It sets in that you’re not at your father’s house anymore and you calm. You languish beneath the fluffy duvet and dread climbing out from beneath it, but your bladder demands it. 

You finally get up and near the door. It has to be late. You inch open the door and listen to the hallway. You creep out, expecting the floor to creak like the boards at home, but your feet only pad lightly on the polished hardwood. 

You find the bathroom down the other end of the hall and swiftly pop in and out. On your way back, you stop near the side table where a small boxy clock stands. The digital face shines the time. It’s just after midnight. 

You squint as the background changes behind the numbers. Fancy. You tap the screen curiously and the time disappears. It’s one of the smart devices you’ve seen in the Black Friday ads. But the next image, startles you. It’s all too familiar. 

You blink at the sight of your family’s living room. Your father’s passed out in his old recliner and the corner of the rug is bent over. There’s wrapping paper strewn across the floor and Chinese food containers littered over the table. Cameron is sleeping on the couch as your brother continues to drink in the armchair and stares at the television. 

But why is there a camera in your house? You shakily bring your hand up to touch the screen again. A menu comes up; Favourites. You tap the first option ‘bedroom’. The next image nearly makes you scream. It’s your bedroom. Your sister’s taken over the bed with her husband. The moonlight shines on them through the window as the camera’s night vision limns their slumbering figures. 

Your heart hammers. How could this be real? You pinch your thigh and squeak. You’re not waking up. 

“Restless?” Pine’s voice has you stalk straight. You lurch on your feet and face his shadow as it looms at the other end of the hallway. 

“Mr. Pine,” you greet. 

He slowly struts out of the shadows. You wince and lean back on your heel. He clucks as you try to cover the screen with your hand. He stops and puts his hands on his hips. In the dim, you can see the outline of his naked torso above a short pair of boxers. You gulp. 

“It isn’t how I wanted it to go,” he says quietly. “I meant to woo you a little...” 

“What... Why...” 

“Why... what? Darling? Why would I want to give you a proper home? Why would I keep a close eye on such a sad soul?” He hums, “well, as I said, I was raised to be a gentleman, and this house is dreadfully empty, don’t you agree?” 

You gape at him, horrified and confused. What he says cannot be true. It cannot be real. Why? Why you? Has it all been a ploy? Was he just waiting and watching for the moment you cracked? 

“Mr. Pine,” you utter. 

“Please, darling, call me Jonathan,” he comes closer and swipes your hand before you can allude him. “It only feels right, doesn’t it?” 

You writhe in his grasp but cannot escape him. You look around at the walls and the isolation of that place sets in. No, it didn’t make sense, after all. A man like him should be in a condo, in the city, not out here where the trees hide him from civilization. Where the roads are endless and treacherous. It doesn’t make sense, not unless he means to go undisturbed. Unless he means you to go undiscovered. 

“Merry Christmas, darling,” he purrs as he brings his hand up to cradle your head, “I give to you the greatest gift at all. A true home, a true family. We will build it together.” 

[muddyorbsblr]

forever & always

See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @silverfire475 | View request here

Summary: On the way home after his shift at the hotel, Jonathan stumbles upon a coffee shop that might have just given your lives a turn for the better

Pairing: Jonathan Pine x Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warning/s: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, do not try me); unprotected p in v; shower sex; implied oral sex (f receiving); scenes mentioning terminal illness; scenes implying consideration of assisted death; potentially inaccurate depiction of mythical drinks; language [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: magical coffee shop au

Dick-tionary: » smut scene starts at "What are you up to, sweetheart?" and ends at "I love you so much." » fade to black oral smut scene starts at "You grasped the collar" and ends at next story divider

The lack of your presence in bed when Jonathan woke this morning was no cause for concern. In fact, hope bloomed in his heart that today would be the start of events taking a turn for the better.

It had been far too long since the two of you had one of those days.

He made quick work to pull a shirt over his head and run a hand through his hair, excited to fix you a decadent breakfast before he left for his shift at the hotel.

What was a cause for concern, however, was how he found you in the living room the moment he stepped out of your shared bedroom. Your mouth pressed into a grim line as you hung up the phone, a notepad and a pamphlet on the coffee table in front of you. The logo and the name on the front had his heart pounding away in his ears.

Dignitas

"Sweetheart." His throat closed up, almost unable to form any words. "We still have time. And there's no need to make a reservation, I don't think they stay occupied for long."

You gave him a somber smile at his dry attempt of a joke. "I…I know, babe. I know. I just…I wanna make sure of all the details so you don't have to worry as much after--"

"Y/N, stop." He crouched in front of you, tears welling in his eyes. It pained him beyond belief that you even had to think of details like this considering what you were already dealing with. The only thing that should be occupying your mind was building your strength. Hoping that whatever medication the doctors try out will finally start turning things around for the better.

But he also knew you were both steadily running out of time. And your words from around nine months ago began to echo in his mind, his heart feeling hollow at the memory.

We'll give it a year of our best effort. But if things don't look great at the end of it, I don't want to let this thing get the satisfaction of withering me into a shell of myself. I wanna go out on my own terms, while I'm still strong enough to make those choices.

"We still have time," he said again desperately. Three more months. You promised me at least that. "Maybe this round will have better results."

Your tearful expression nearly mirrored his perfectly, reaching over to frame his face in your comparatively smaller hands before pressing a kiss to his lips. "Jonathan, we have to come to terms with the possibility that things won't get better. That…there might be no beating this."

"Please no," he was barely able to choke out., fighting back the sobs that wracked his chest. "We've only just found each other, we haven't had enough time."

"I know, I know, sweetie. And it's not fair that we don't get to have more time." Hot tears began to stream down your face as your thumbs traced his features, and it broke his heart realizing what you were doing. You were memorizing his face. "But this is the hand we were dealt. And it's a shitty hand but there's no changing it."

He placed his hands over yours, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist. "All I ask is that we don't make any plans to go to Switzerland before the year's up," he murmured against your skin. "I want all the time I can get with you. I don't want to lose you a moment sooner than I absolutely have to."

When you nodded, keeping your eyes glued to the floor, he pulled you into his arms, laying your head on his shoulders as your body began to shake with your suppressed sobs. "I'm sorry," you told him, your words muffled by his shirt. "I love you."

"And I love you." He gently lifted you back onto the couch, making sure to take the pamphlet far away from you. "We'll revisit this together if the time comes. Until then I'm keeping this far away from you." He placed the offensive piece of paper into his back pocket before grabbing his phone and his keys before crouching down in front of you again. "Now…what would my beautiful fiance want for me to bring her home tonight?"

You gave him a smile that couldn't reach those somber eyes, and that cracked away at his heart even more. Those eyes that used to be so full of life, so excited to face the day ahead and go on new adventures hand in hand with him…now that light barely flickered, just enough to show that there was still someone in there. But whether they were fighting or simply waiting was anyone's guess. "Surprise me," was all you said.

The first thing he did when he got to the hotel was make a beeline for the back office facilities and put the Dignitas pamphlet through the shredder. He didn't even want to know that it was still in one piece, let alone within your reach, for at least the next three months.

He'd gone through the next nine hours essentially on autopilot, coordinating anything that the hotel guests may need, delegating where needed, and brushing off any advances from those that were far too forward by flashing a prop wedding band around his left ring finger and informing them that he was "a happily married man". It was a half-truth, but one he had every intention of turning into your reality before you decided that your time together had reached its end.

Jonathan would marry you. He'd marry you tomorrow in the chapel down the block if you were up to it.

He only began to perk up once he'd changed out of his hotel suit and was on his way back to you, stopping by at the new coffeeshop that had just opened a few doors down. Maybe he could bring you home a nice little pastry. Or a sweet drink.

The barista gave him a bright smile as he walked in, the establishment only housing two other patrons, one that was sketching away on a pad, and the other that had their nose buried in a giant tome of a book. "Hi there! I'm Eva, what can I get started for you?"

"Oh erm…I'm not really all that adept when it comes to ordering these kinds of drinks, that's usually my partner. What would you recommend?"

"I see…how about this, then, Mister…?"

"Pine."

"Right then. Mr Pine…why don't you tell me about your partner and I'll make something that I think would suit both her and you?"

A pressure seemed to lift from his shoulders. This…this I can do. "For one, she loves books. Completely loses herself in a good story. She used to love spending the day outdoors just happily flipping away at the pages of her latest paperback or breezing through her Kindle."

"Used to?" the girl caught on quick. "What happened?"

His shoulders slumped again, the weight on them returning. "She got sick. And it spread faster than we could get a handle on it." His heart constricted in his chest as he found the words tumbling out without much difficulty. "She has three months."

Eva became misty eyed over his story, and seeing how it was tearing him apart to even talk about what was in your tragically near future. "I'm so sorry," she said softly before turning to face the bar, fixing together two drinks that seemed to have a generous helping of a milk and honey mixture. Then after she placed the drinks on the counter, she placed a rather delectable looking slice of apple pie in a box. "Best with a heaping scoop of vanilla ice cream," she said while she rung up his bill. "She'll get much better after a really good dessert."

Jonathan gave her a sad smile as he paid his bill, brushing off her comment about getting better. The sentiment was sweet, but sadly he knew better.

The chances that there would be a light at the end of this tunnel…were slim to none.

He found you sitting at the exact same spot where he left you when he walked through the doors of your home. You perked up a touch when you looked up at him, seeing the drinks and the bags in his hands. And then you sniffed the air. "Apple pie?"

He couldn't help but chuckle, placing a kiss to the tip of your nose before placing the box down, as well as a pint of vanilla ice cream next to it. "That nose of yours is truly a marvel."

You took your drink from him with both hands, taking another sniff. "Smells like honey. Expensive honey."

He nodded. "It looked like honey, but I didn't ask what it was." You tapped your cup to his before you both took a sip, the rich and creamy sweetness coating your tongues upon contact.

It had to have been a trick of the light, but he could have sworn you became a touch less pale after a few sips. Even more so when you took a bite of the apple pie with the ice cream, letting out a soft moan at the taste of the decadent buttery crust and the perfectly thick apple filling. "You really know how to spoil a girl, Mr Pine."

He reached over, swiping his thumb at the corner of your mouth as he gave you a bittersweet smile. "Anything for the future Mrs Pine."

You woke the next morning with a strange newfound strength. A kind that you hadn't felt since getting that curse of a diagnosis. Maybe even before then.

You tentatively stood up from the bed, shocked to your core to find that no part of you felt weak or straining. Rather your muscles simply just felt the way they did when you had spent far too long being sedentary, and they itched to be used again, wanting more than anything to go on a jog. Or perhaps show up to a dance class.

What had you even more shocked was discovering you could stretch without your insides threatening to make you double over in pain. You didn't just not feel weak, you felt strong. Brimming with energy that begged to be expended.

The sound of the shower had you deciding in no time just how you wanted to spend this newfound strength. You made quick, fumbling work to divest yourself of your sweats before joining your fiance in the shower.

"What are you up to, sweetheart?" You could practically hear how he smirked as he asked you.

Instead of answering him, you stepped closer behind him, taking a prolonged moment to appreciate how the hot water droplets traveled down his perfectly sculpted back muscles. You wrapped your arms around his midsection, your hands roaming the well-cut defined lines of his abdomen before traveling up to roam his chest.

"You're playing quite the dangerous game, my love," he rasped, placing his hands over yours. His muscles shivered, a shaky breath escaping him at your touch. When you pressed your lips to his back, softly humming against his skin, that seemed to break him, your fiance letting out a guttural groan before turning to face you. "My sweet Y/N, if you keep this up I may not be able to control myself."

You threw your arms around his neck, his hand instinctively splaying over your back as you rose to your tiptoes to pull him into an impassioned kiss. "I woke up today feeling good. Really good. Best I've felt in a while," you told him, moaning into his mouth when he pulled you even closer before kissing you again, his hand moving lower to grasp your thigh before hooking your leg over his hip. "And all I can think of right now is how to feel…even better."

Your hand moved down, softly caressing his chest and abdominal muscles again before moving even lower, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his hardening length. There was a thrill that shot through you, seeing how your touch affected him, his eyes fluttering closed as pleasure washed over him. He moaned your name, moving to press you against the wall. "Hold on to me, sweetheart."

You bit your lip as you followed his instructions, holding on to his water-slickened shoulders while he adjusted his hold on you. He lined your hips together before reaching between you and positioned the tip of his length at your entrance, his shuddering exhale warming your face as he moved it up and down your slick folds.

"If you start feeling faint, you need to tell me right away, am I clear, Y/N?" You managed to nod before you threw your head back, arching into him when he started to enter you in shallow thrusts, each taking him in deeper and deeper. Once he bottomed out he buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting out an obscene moan. "Fuck, sweetheart you feel divine." He kissed along your collarbone, nipping and sucking a bruise onto the base of your throat. "It's been too long, my love, I don't think--"

You knew exactly what he meant. "I know, I know--Oh f-fuck!" Your joint moans filled the bathroom as his fingers found your clit and started rubbing in tight circles. It was like your entire body came alive like a live wire as your orgasm washed over you, your walls clenching and milking his cock as he filled you with his release.

His thrusts slowed, and he pressed his forehead to your temple, kissing your cheek. "I love you so much."

It warmed your heart how gently he handled you afterwards, finishing up your now joint shower and wrapping a towel around you before stepping out of the bathroom hand in hand.

Once he was dressed for work he pulled you into his arms one more time, kissing your temple before whispering in your ear, "That was an incredible start to the day, sweetheart. I'll see you tonight."

Jonathan couldn't seem to wipe off the smile that spread across his face through the first hours of his shift, his mind constantly drifting back to his time in the shower with you. To say that it caught him by surprise would be an understatement, but the surprise was more than welcome. The last few months, you could barely stand up and walk to the other side of the apartment without getting winded. And as far as he was concerned, the newfound strength was the best sign he could ask for that maybe things were finally taking a turn for the better.

Even the sight of the hotel guests that were starkly different from what he had grown accustomed to didn't seem to faze him. He gave the creatures with the near translucent wings, the vibrantly colored skin, and pointed ears the same bright smile, looking them in the eye which seemed to brighten their days as well.

Most humans still couldn't seem to adjust to the new reality of living with creatures they'd only read about in books, but ever since a battle took place someplace in Northern Europe, certain barriers between worlds had been taken down and hoards of mystical creatures now roamed the Earth freely. Some had even begun to put up establishments of their own, the last time he checked the news on their acclimation.

So when a woman with lilac skin and pink freckles approached his desk, he initially thought nothing of it and proceeded with his usual script of welcoming them to the hotel. "I'm not here for a room, Mr. Pine. I'm here to speak with you," she spoke with a frantic tone. "My name is Astraea, I own the coffee shop you went to last night. I believe my employee Eva worked on your order?"

"Ah yes, I remember. I was going to drop by after my shift to thank you all, it seems whatever drink Eva made for us put my fiance in a much better state this morning." Once again he couldn't fight back the smile; it didn't take much for his mind to wander back to the shower.

"That's actually what I came to speak with you about," the coffeeshop owner told him in a near apologetic tone. "You see, Eva thinks herself something of a problem solver, so when someone walks into the cafe with teary eyes talking about how he's about to lose the love of his life, she just…can't help herself."

"I'm sorry I'm not quite sure I follow--"

"Your drinks, yours and your fiance's, contained ambrosia, Mr. Pine. And while its short term effects will very much work to your favor, it's your life in the long term that I came here to discuss with you. The drink not only cured your wife of her illness, but it granted both her and yourself a prolonged lifespan."

Jonathan couldn't find it in him to focus on most of what she was saying. All he heard was cured. "She's not sick anymore?" Just saying the words nearly brought him to his knees, he had to hold on to the hard surface of the front desk to keep himself upright.

"Well, yes. Both you and her are now immune to any earthly sickness, but it's the other part that I've come here to discuss with and apologize for. The drink has prolonged your lifespan by an…indefinite amount. Possibly centuries…at the least. We don't know yet how this drink is to affect someone with a mortal composition. Mr. Pine I sincerely apologize for my employee's rashness--"

"There's no need," he cut her off, raising his hand in front of him. "You've done nothing but give me the best possible news I could ever ask for. The woman I love is healed, and I get to quite possibly spend centuries with her." He held his hand out to shake, and he cafe owner seemed relieved with his reaction. "Thank you. Please send my regards to Eva as well."

It wasn't long after Astraea left the hotel that a new worry began to take root within Jonathan. How would you react to this turn of events? Of course, he was certain that you would be ecstatic over the news that the days of hospital visits and experimental treatments were over, but it was the latter half of this new reality that he was unsure of your reaction to.

The vision that greeted him when he opened the doors to your home had his heart soaring. Soft music was playing and you'd just emerged from the kitchen with a bowl of ice cream in hand. You were wearing a cotton dress instead of the sweats that had become a bit of a staple over the last few months.

And God you were radiant, the spark in your eyes that once lit up the entire room had returned full force. You looked over to him standing at the door, a wide grin stretching across your face and reaching your eyes as you put the bowl down on the coffee table and walked over to him. "Welcome home."

He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to him so he could capture your lips in a tender kiss. You sighed contentedly, pressing your body against him as his lips moved with yours, a muffled squeal escaping you when he lifted you with a single arm and carried you across the living room, sitting you down on the couch. "I need to talk to you about something, Y/N."

"Uh-oh," you blurted out. "No good conversation ever started with that." You turned your attention to the flowers in his hand. "Jonathan, what's wrong?"

He took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles before pressing a much longer kiss on your engagement ring. "Nothing's wrong, sweetheart. Well…hopefully after this conversation that will still be the case but if it isn't then I'm sure we'll find a way--"

"What happened?" Your question cut him off. "Did my doctor go to see you? Ohh God it's bad, isn't it? That explains the flowers and the--"

"Y/N, slow down." He placed the small bouquet down so he could frame your face, the rest of your words muffled by his kiss. "It's nothing bad, I promise you that much. It's just…" He let out a sigh, resigning himself to the fact that he wouldn't be able to explain this without looking like he grew a second head. "You know those reports we've been seeing on TV? With the barriers between worlds coming down and all these new kinds of people settling down and setting up shop around us?"

You nodded your answer and listened as he recounted his conversation with the coffeeshop owner Astraea. About how the drink he brought home last night might have just brought about the miracle you'd been hoping for for the last year of your life.

"Are…are you telling me I'm not sick anymore?" the words came out of you in a heavy exhale, as if they tasted foreign on your tongue. "No more doctors, no more needles, no more ingesting God knows what in the name of an experimental drug for a trial headed by a doctor with a dream?"

This time all he could do was nod, tears in his eyes as he pulled you into his arms and lifted you up, your feet dangling inches off the floor. "No more, sweetheart. It's over, the nightmare's over."

"What did she put in that drink anyway?"

He took another breath before answering you. "Ambrosia."

Jonathan could practically see the wheels turning in your head, recalling the countless books you've read and your knowledge of mythology pieced together from both textbooks and novels. "The Olympians consumed that for immortality…" You looked up at him with panicked, and yet curious, eyes. "What happens to us?"

"I don't have the answer to that, my love," he said truthfully. "Astraea's best guess is that it prolonged our lifespans by a few centuries…at the least. I'm so sorry if I knew--"

"Hang on." You placed a finger over his lips, putting a stop to the rest of his apology. "What're you sorry for? I told you way before this nightmare began that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Jonathan Pine. And last night, I thought that that was just three months." Tears welled in your eyes as a face-splitting grin lit up your face. "Now you're telling me that that's…more. So much more. You have nothing to apologize for."

You grasped the collar of his shirt and pulled him to you for a kiss that he more than happily returned, his hands grabbing the backs of your thighs to lift you up again and back you up against the nearest wall. When he pulled away all the worry had gone from his face, replaced by a darkened, lustful gaze. He shifted his hold on you, a sinful groan slipping from his lips when your hips aligned and your core brushed against his hardening length over your layers of clothing.

"Ohh…" you sighed, your eyes fluttering closed as he rolled his hips again. And again. "Oh fuck, sweetie, what are you doing to me?"

"We get to spend the rest of our lives together," he said simply, carrying you into the bedroom and setting you down on the bed. "And I know exactly what we should do first." He rid you of your panties, throwing the little scrap of fabric haphazardly behind him somewhere, before running his hands up your thighs, inching the skirt of your dress upwards as he sank to his knees. "It's been too long since I've tasted you, my love."

Three months later

You walked through the doors of the Langham, taking a moment to pause in the opulence of the lobby before making your way further into the hotel to seek out the front desk. There was an extravagant bouquet on display right as you entered with vibrant colors. The lighting made them look almost like jewels.

It took you a minute, but you eventually found the front desk through the throng of people, mortal and mystical alike, that filled the lobby. The manager seemed to be fending off the attentions of one of the guests, her tits practically spilling out of her two sizes too small bathing suit.

"It seems you've had a bit too much to drink, Mrs Davies. Perhaps it would be best for security to bring you up to your room."

The woman pouted as a six-foot-seven security personnel began to escort her towards the elevator. Meanwhile the manager locked eyes with you, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, making him even more devilishly handsome if that was even possible, as his eyes greedily roamed your figure. Suddenly you were even more appreciative of the way you'd begun to fill your clothes again the last few months.

"May I help you, madam?"

You flashed him your brightest smile, fighting back a blush as he held your gaze. "Yes, I'd like a room for the night."

He didn't type anything down into the system. Instead he just grabbed a keycard from inside a drawer and made his way around the front desk, jerking his head towards the elevator. "Very well, then. Follow me." He led you to a private elevator to the top floor before walking down a long hall that only contained a handful of doors. "I hope this…will be to your liking," he said, his voice taking on a huskier tone as his breath hitched when you brushed past him as you walked through the doors.

Everything about the suite exuded luxury…with a touch of sensuality. There was a large heart-shaped box of truffles situated on the coffee table, a soft piano melody filled the space, and a trail of rose petals led to the open door of the bedroom, where even more rose petals laid atop the sheets in the shape of a heart.

"A honeymoon suite…" you said slowly, your breath hitching when you felt Jonathan's hands on your waist, his breath warming your neck. "You really know how to spoil a girl, Mr. Pine."

You let out a squeal as he turned you to face him, your faces now mere inches apart. "Only the best for you, Mrs. Pine."

A/N: Okay, so I stitched together two requests back when I was planning out the stories for the 500 follower celebration, but I can't for the life of me find the first request that covered the bit about Reader being sick 🙃 Anyways, I'm so happy to finish this one and cross out another request! Now I'm off to jump straight into the next, which is a fluffy lil comfort piece with our favorite god 🥹👀

'everything taglist': @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki @lulubelle814 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @huntedmusicgardenn @steaa90-blog

[holdmytesseract]

a/n: Welcome to my Hiddles characters masterlist! Have fun reading!

🌙 Afterglow

🌙 I Won't Let Go

🌴 Dangerous Paradise

🍸 I got a Man - but I want You {18+}

🍸 Miracles

🍸 All The Right Moves

🕯Mine

🕯In Love and Pleasure {18+}

🕯Hearts Aflame

🕯Attraction

🔍 Knight With Curls and Blue Eyes

[alicedopey]

Husband's orders

Pairing: Soft Dark! Jonathan Pine x Wife! Reader Warnings: Dubious consent, oral sex, fingering sex...sex in general. Words Count: 1572 Summary: You disobey your husband and faces the consequences of you your actions. A/N: I am blaming @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for this.

The door slammed and somehow, you knew you were in deep trouble. Your husband never slammed any door, he never raised his voice. Come to think of it, you had never seen him lose his cool during the six months the two of you had been married. 

You heard him walk up the stairs in his usual determined pace, halt in front of your bedroom door and tell your bodyguard to go downstairs in a harsh voice. You heard him walk away and the door opened, revealing your husband wearing black pants and a shirt whose top buttons were undone. You lightly frowned at his unusual disheveled appearance but quickly composed yourself when you met his stern glare. He put his hands on his hips, ready to lecture you as if you were a rebellious teenager.

You gulped in spite of yourself. Those type of looks were usually reserved to his business partners or his staff when he was unhappy. You suddenly felt guilty when you thought about what your so professional bodyguard would have to endure because of you.

“Don’t blame him.” You abruptly stood up from the bed you were sitting on and faced your husband. His eyes were burning with fury and you took a step back as he approached you. He instantly cooled down at your discomfort and let out of a sigh of frustration.

“He was supposed to keep an eye on you and he failed. He is to blame.” He replied coldly. 

His words made your insides boil. You were tired of this situation, tired of this cocoon he had built around you since you were forced to say yes at the altar by your fathers for the union of your families. Both nearing your forties, both single, both determined to stay that way and yet, you were the perfect candidates to fill in this obligation. 

You would lie if you said he had been a bad husband so far because he basically let you live your life as you wished. That is, as long as you stayed home or go out with your bodyguard flanked to your sides. You wanted to get your freedom back and it was about time Jonathan Pine found out you would get it. 

“Keep an eye on me?”. You shrieked. “What am I? A child?”

“What do you call someone who puts herself in danger to go to the nearest bookstore and buy books on a whim?” He asked sharply. Once again, you froze at his tone. He had never talked to you like this. Even if you were a scared and a bit intrigued by this new attitude of him, you had to stand your ground. 

“A whim? Jonathan, I am an author. I need to read, I need to go and take a walk by myself. It gets me inspired and helps me work.” He opened his mouth to reply but you cut him off. “You can’t just lock me up in here and think for a second that I would not try to leave again. You get to live your life as you please but I can’t and why?”

“Jeopardizing your safety to buy books is not what I call living your life, darling.” He snorted and you winced at his term of endearment. You knew he was just trying to get you to calm down, clearly not used to such an outburst coming from you. “Everything I am doing is to….”

“Protect you.” You cut him off again. “Gosh…I get why my father agreed to this crazy wedding idea now. You sound just like him. But you know what?” You got closer and pointed a finger to his chest. “I also know the only one you are doing this for is yourself. Just like my father. You want to show what a good husband you are, protecting your wife against a potential attack when you don’t actually care. I’ve seen this all my life. Drop the act.”

“Just don’t leave the grounds alone again, darling.” He smiled indulgently, looking at your pointed finger and your angry glare. 

He turned away from you and made his way to the door. You were infuriated by his behavior. He was really treating you like a child and you had enough.

“Or what?” That made him stop “What happens if I go and run some errands alone? Again.”

He slowly turned around and cocked his head on the side, silently challenging you to say more. Your insides boiled again. “What happens, then? Will I get punished? Grounded?  Will you send me to my room? Maybe spank me a little for my tantrum?”

A curious glint appeared on your husband’s face and he smiled, slowly making his way towards you. 

You were suddenly stopped by the bed and you realized that you had taken a few steps back without realizing it. You almost fell on it but Jonathan circled his arm around your waist and pulled you against his body. A surprised squeak escaped from your mouth and you put your hands against his firm chest. 

“My sweet darling wife.” Jonathan cooed, pulling you even closer. Your noses were brushing against each other’s and you could feel his hot breath on your mouth as he spoke. “If you wanted my attention, all you had to was ask. I gave you some space because you seemed so tense and cold around me but it was just a way to catch my eyes.”

“That is not….” Your words died in your throat. Your husband was rubbing his nose against your cheek, slowly descending upon your neck where he softly kissed your skin. He ran a hand along your leg and slowly lifted your skirt until you felt his fingers on your skin. You gasped, trying to push him away but his arm around your waist tightened. 

“Jonathan...”

“Shhh, darling.” He whispered in your neck before kissing you one more time. “Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

His fingers sneaked into your panties and you closed your eyes in shame. You were aroused and now you both knew it. Two of his fingers rubbed your clit and you whined. Your hands on his chest were now gripping his shirt. You head fell backwards and you let out a few pants. 

“Yes, this is what you want. Enjoy the ride, darling.” His fingers rubbed you a little faster which sent electricity through your whole body. Your whines turned needy and you felt yourself stroking his skin through his shirt, enjoying the feeling of his toned chest under your hand. Jonathan purred against your flesh and kept tantalizing your body. Your pleasure rose and you trembled against your husband when it reached its peak.

He did not stop his sweet torture though but gently pushed you so that you lay down on your bed, that bed which had only been yours for the last six months since you said I do to that man, who was now kneeling between your legs, ready to devour you. He hiked up your skirt, pulled down your panties and threw them behind him before grabbing your hips to pull you closer. You felt his hot breath on you again, then his tongue dived into you. Your lips opened on a silent scream and you arched your back from the bed. He played with you, eating you out like a starving man. Your whole body felt like it was on fire as he sucked, licked and nipped at your skin. It was not long before you came a second time, then a third, a fourth until you lost count and babbled incoherently under his attacks. You were panting like a woman possessed, frantically gripping the sheets between your fists.

“Jon…Jo…Jonathan, please.” You tried to whisper in between shallow breaths. “I can’t…not anymore. Jonathan.”

“Husband.” Jonathan ordered, kissing your thigh. “I’m your husband, darling. Call me husband when you want something.” He rubbed his nose against your oversensitive clit which was enough to send you into another whirlwind of pleasure. 

In your delirium, you felt Jonathan grabbing you again to put against the cushions. You heard him getting rid of his clothes and when you finally managed to catch your breath and open your eyes, he was lying down next to you. Your eyes met and he smiled at you, leaning over you to kiss you senseless. You got a taste of yourself on his tongue and it made your insides clench. Your body was asking for more even though you were feeling exhausted. 

“Husband, please.” You whispered against his lips.

“Yes, darling?” He kissed your nose. “You want more?”

“No, I…I can’t.” And yet, you scooted closer. 

Jonathan peppered your face with kisses. “But you wanted my attention, remember? You have it now, darling. Entirely.” He pulled you under him, hooking one of your leg against his hip. “We can’t stop now.” 

His body heat was suffocating and yet, so arousing. You wanted more. So much more. But you were so exhausted.

“Husband, I….”

He thrusted inside of you in one swift motion, groaning and you whined in response. “I know, darling. Just a little bit more. You need to be punished, remember?”

He pulled out just to push back in. You whined again, feeling a new wave of pleasure rising as his thrusts became deeper, stronger.

“Trust me when I’m done with you, my sweet darling wife, you are going to wish I would have given you a spanking session.”

Tagging: @thezombieprostitute @naaladareia

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Updated: 2024-02-01

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Johnathan Pine stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning

✑ Andy & Liv by ladyfloriographist • 〔F᜶M〕 •

✑ Cleaning Up by thezombieprostitute • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: Something is budding between you and the new night manager at the hotel.

✑ Duty of Care by muddyorbsblr • 18+ • 〔A᜶C〕 •

Summary: "After Pine rescues you from a bloodthirsty mafia leader, he confesses his feelings for you while tending to your wounds."

✑ Holiday in Cario by iwillbeinmynest • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Your friend invites you on a trip overseas but when she all but [ditches you] you find yourself in a rather uncomfortable position. Lucky for you the hotel [night manager] comes to your rescue."

✑ I Won't Let Go by holdmytesseract • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: “Angela convinced Jonathan to attend a event - held by the Riverhouse, to take his mind off his lovesickness. Unbeknowst to him, you have a gig on exactly that event...”

✑ Leave Me Wanting More by the-purity-pen • 18+ • 〔E〕 •

Summary: Months of mutual pining finally culminate in a passionate encounter, but Jonathan makes sure to leave you wanting more…

✑ Mission Comes First, the by holymultiplefandomsbatman • 16+ • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ • 🚫 •

Summary: "Jonathan met you long before he came in contact with Angela Burr. When he goes undercover, you join him. Unfortunately, Roper catches and then tortures you to find out who sent you... while Jonathan has to stand by and watch, just like he promised you. The mission comes first, no matter what."

✑ Mr. Pine by sserpente • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Imagine surprising… your boyfriend at his workplace,… a fancy hotel in Switzerland and getting him all worked up by repeatedly calling him Mr. Pine.

✑ My Dearest Diamond by five-miles-over • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "After nearly two years… [you and Jonathan] rekindled your love via handwritten letters, until you [plan a] trip to London to see him. As he prepares [for your arrival], Jonathan reflects on his relationship with you …[carrying] out one last errand before you land."

✑ Paris by muddyorbsblr • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: "After spending the last few hours pretending to be a loving couple while on a mission in Paris, Jonathan decides to lose himself in the fantasy of having you to himself."

✑ Pine by devilbat • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: After rescuing you from kidnappers, your father hires Jonathan to be your bodyguard allowing the two of you to grow close. One night, he breaks into your room, asking you to trust him, and although the attack left you wary of the world, you know one thing for sure: Jonathan will always keep you safe.

✑ Saviour by sserpente • 〔E᜶F᜶A〕 •

Prompt(s): "Imagine Jonathan Pine saving your life after you end up going after the same target."

✑ Secrets￨Prt. II by strangerquinns • 18+ • 〔E᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Prompt(s): "So desperate for it, aren't you? Well, if you want it so bad you'd better start taking it." + "Look at you, grinding against everything, you're really desperate for it. Aren't you?"

✑ Sleepy by thehiddlebums • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Prompt(s): "Your lover is snoring quietly and you can't help but giggle because it's so cute" + "Laughing at their messy hair in the morning."

✑ Slow Your Roll by ladyfluff • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: Exhausted and confined to the house after surgery, Jonathan shows you unwavering care and support on your shared journey to recovery.

✑ Summer in Majorca by smolvenger • 18+ • 〔F᜶A〕 •

Summary: "A trip to Spain alongside Roper and his crew had you cross paths with a man mysterious as he is kind and heroic as he is handsome. He goes by Thomas and then Andrew [but is] secretly named Jonathan. You find yourself blossoming feelings for him. [However,] it seems he has eyes for Jed and not you..."

✑ A Complete Surprise by wickednerdery •

✑ After Glow by holdmytesseract • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Buh-nana. by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ Dirty Talk by fadingfics • 18+ • 〔E᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Good Enough to Eat

✑ Home Before You Know It￨Prt. II by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Life with You by lokispet-blog1 • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Not Alone by holdmytesseract • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Paper Hearts and Glitter Glue by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ Photographic Evidence by ladyfluff • 〔A〕 • ♡ •

✑ Short and Sweet Fuse by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Sneaking Around by anonymousfiction211 • 16+ • 〔E᜶A〕 •

✑ So Much More by five-miles-over • 〔F᜶M〕 •

✑ Step Outside by ladyfluff • 〔E᜶C〕 •

✑ Way You Look at Me, the by jewels2876 • 〔E〕 •

✑ Welcome to the World by holdmytesseract • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ Will You Marry Me? by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Within the Strongbox of My Heart by frostbitten-written • 〔A〕 • ♡ •

✑ You by imagine-upon-a-star • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ •

See Also: Navigation || Jonathan Pine Master Index

Authors: @anonymousfiction211 || @devilbat || @fadingfics || @five-miles-over || @frostbitten-written || @holdmytesseract || @holymultiplefandomsbatman || @imagine-upon-a-star || @iwillbeinmynest || @jewels2876 || @just-the-hiddles || @ladyfloriographist || @ladyfluff || @lokispet-blog1 || @muddyorbsblr || @smolvenger || @sserpente || @strangerquinns || @the-purity-pen || @thehiddlebums || @thezombieprostitute || @wickednerdery ||

[liminalpebble]

Lock and Key: Part 1 of 2 (A Professor Pine Story)

Part 2 link

AN: Part 1of 2, older/ instructor/Jonathan Pine x student/agent/femme reader

CW: Minors DNI. Smut in the next part, my loves.

“Again,” said Pine, glaring down at you through the dark frame of his glasses.

You slammed down the lock and picks in frustration, then rubbed at your temples where a headache was creeping in. Your hands reeked of metal and WD40. You'd been at this, stuck in his office, all afternoon.

“It took 10 minutes, Pine! That's not half bad.”

“Professor Pine...and it's not half good either. Ten minutes is too long in field work.”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, as he simply stared you down.

Silences never felt awkward for him, never seemed to make him the least bit uncomfortable. He had a way of observing so closely and quietly that it was absolutely preternatural.

“Do you ever blink?”

That actually did make him laugh, a tiny puff of a thing under his breath, the slightest flex of a smile on his unbearably handsome face. He fidgeted with his glasses; one of his few tells. It communicated, without a word, that the stoic Jonathan Pine was deeply concerned.

The addition of lenses to his face was a recent, not to mention reluctant, one. He told himself that was the cause of his frustration, his unease; just that annoying little touch of plastic against his skin, a tiny chafe reminding him that he was older now. He told himself that's all it was, that it had nothing to do with you. He wasn't fooling himself.

Pine didn't think you'd notice, but you did.

You noticed a good deal more than he thought.

He moved toward the stopwatch again, then neatly and precisely placed the utensils back in front of you. His deft, practiced, fingers reset the lock in no time. He raise an eyebrow, his finger hovering over the button, silently asking if you're ready yet again.

You sighed and stretched your neck and back, rolling out a few sharp creaks and pops. You wiggled your fingers and took a deep breath. He tried not to notice the curve of your throat and collarbones as you moved, the way your deep breaths raised and lowered your soft chest in a mesmerizing rhythm.

“Can I at least talk to you this time? It might make it easier to get out of my head...find some kind of flow. I'm overthinking and I'm panicking...maybe...I don't know.”

He grimaced. Ideally, this should be silent. It would have to be on an assignment and he worried about that; about you.

That's why you were here, after all. Pine demanded your attendance in office hours because he was concerned for you...more than he ought to be, more than he had any right to be as your instructor. It had grown into much more than a professional interest.

It weighed on his conscience. In this line of work, he knew better than anyone how fatal attachments could be. You were a firecracker and he watched you in splendid wonder, even though you could burn him to the ground. His feelings for you were his deepest secret, and he kept it guarded like Fort Knox.

Jonathan combed a hand through his curls. They were growing quickly, getting unruly and it irked him. Pine wasn't used to wearing the styles and trappings of another man's life yet; he was a spy...the spy that took down Richard Roper, and now he was a man behind a desk, lecturing to future agents. It felt strange to be replaced in the field. He missed the adrenaline, the pumping blood, the danger...all things he was now beginning to associate with you.

Finally, after the deafening silence of his ruminations, he put his hands on his hips and huffed out a, “sure, okay. But just this once.”

He pushed the button and the clicking began; the regular, measured ticks of the watch versus the more firm and frenzied clicks of metal against metal as you finessed the pins.

“Gently!” he advised placing a hand on your shoulder. The sound of his crisp baritone and his proximity were doing nothing to help your focus. “I'm going to start calling you Attila the Hun!”

“What?”

“You work in a frenzy, you know? You're whip-smart but you're...reckless.”

click....click click

“Hrmm. Well, Director Burr seems to remember a time when you could be reckless too.”

He frowned and stopped his pacing. “She told you that?”

Click. Click. Tick tick tick.

“Hrrmm...not in so many words. I read between the lines. Do you like this new life? Are you less...reckless...*click* these days?”

Pine crossed his arm and resumed his slow journey to nowhere.“We're not here to talk about me, we're here to make you a competent field agent.”

You shrugged. “Well, that's going swimmingly, isn't it? *click click* I don't see why you're so obsessed with this analog stuff. I can bring a Fortune 500 company to its knees with a few keystrokes and you think this is something that I'll need to do?”

“Hacking can't help you if you're beaten and locked in a cellar.”

“Come on, that doesn't happen anymore.”

A needle-sharp, blue-eyed glare met yours.

“Does it? Did it happen to you?”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

“Time” he declared, ending the conversation, to his great relief and your frustration.

You gave a cocky little twitch of your head, meeting his appraisal with a smirk. You gestured to the lock.

“There. Open in five. Acceptable?”

He sat down next to you and brought it closer to his face.

“You've stripped it completely though. You might as well have used a bolt cutter.”

“So?”

“So, it's best not to leave evidence.”

“No one would notice that!,” you argued indignantly.

“I did.”

“You're....you're...an evolutionary anomaly.”

He chuckled, really chuckled this time, and it startled you. “What? I beg your pardon?”

“You're...different, Jonathan. You're too...everything...”

Your mentor sat, scooting closer. You could smell his aftershave. You could see that his pullover was not, in fact, black, but a subtle navy blue...fine and soft. Fine and soft as that vulnerable skin peaking out at the collar, the milky, pale, dip between his throat and his chest.

God, you wanted to touch him, wanted to run you tongue along that valley and devour him, feel his deep groans through the skin and sinew of his long neck as you'd kiss it...suck on it.

Your throat went dry and you cleared it to speak quietly, more uncertain than he'd ever heard you.

“You...you're perfect. You can't understand what it's like to struggle like this.”

“I assure you, I am very far from perfect...If you only knew.” He shook his head sadly, recalling some scar of a memory you couldn't discern.

You turned to face him, mere inches from each other.

“If I only knew what, Professor Pine?”

His Adam's apple bobbed with a swallow and he forced his breathing to slow. “That I am very...very...far from perfect. I'm only human. I make mistakes.”

Those lovely ocean eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips.

“And I think I may be about to make another one.”

@smolvenger and @muddyorbs and @gruftiela this is for you! I don't know who else might give a fuck, but feel free to share if you like it! Thank you for reading! Part 2 (the last one) coming soon. I promise not to leave you hanging too long.

[lokidbadguy]

the intro 🤭

jonathan pine x bathroom = perfection

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Crushed Masterlist

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings. (Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine)

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

[thezombieprostitute]

Hey Zombie, quick question about Tech Tuesday. Do you intend for Rose to cross path with one of her former boss again so that Jonathan might find out how she was treated ?

Tech Tuesday: Jonathan Pine

Summary: A dinner date with Jonathan is interrupted.

Warnings: Implied age discrimination, Implied smut. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is 40+ years old and female. No physical descriptors used.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Previous

It doesn't matter that this isn't your first date with Jonathan. That you've slept together already. That the entire office knows the two of you are together. The butterflies are still fluttering with nervousness as you get ready. Maybe it's the place he's taking you to? It is higher up on the fanciness scale than you've ever been to before. You got a look at the menu online and warned Jonathan you couldn't pronounce half of the items! He assured you he'd handle the French words for you.

Your face heated up a little in embarrassment at how his fluent French makes you swoon. You have no idea what he's saying but it sounds so lovely. Especially when he says them with such reverence towards you. He could just be reciting a recipe but the way he says makes you believe he's actually saying you're beautiful. Quite the accomplishment for him to get you to believe, especially given your history.

You shake your head. Now's not the time to think of all those horrible bosses you had. All the ones who fired you so they could get more time with young, skinny, pretty newer secretary. But you're with someone better now. A boss who actually treats you with respect. Who wants you to stay. And he thinks you're beautiful. He's even been getting you to think that maybe, just maybe, he's right. It's why you bought yourself the bold red dress you're wearing tonight. It makes you feel almost as beautiful as he keeps saying you are.

Stepping out of your building to get into Jonathan's car, you relish the hungry look he gives you as he opens the car door for you. He kisses your hand, giving you a meaningful look, before helping you into the car. Yeah, he's almost got you believing.

Ever the gentleman, Jonathan holds out your chair for you to sit before taking his own seat next to you. You appreciate that he didn't take the one opposite. While it's good for eye contact, you prefer the closeness of having him next to you. It also makes it easier for him to whisper in your ear the scandalous things he wants to do with you. Whispers that have you squirming in your seat as he smirks.

True to his word, Jonathan handled the ordering of the food. His voice and clear pronunciation giving you heart eyes when you look at him. Does he know how silky smooth his voice is?, you wonder as you gently bite your lip.

The appetizers are served and Jonathan, with your prompting, explains what each one is. He also reiterates that if you don't like something he's picked you are more than welcome to say so. He will not take offense, "especially as it just means more for me." The entire time one of you always has a hand on the other. Whether it's your hand on his knee or his hand caressing your face, or his arm around you. You're always touching and it makes you feel like he truly doesn't mind being seen with you.

Soon after the main course is served your fun is interrupted by someone shouting your name. You drop your fork as you recognize the voice.

You turn towards the source. Sure enough, it's him. "Mr. Stark? What are you doing here?" You feel Jonathan go rigid as he squeezes your hand. A silent indicator that he's ready to stand in as you need him.

"I'm here to eat," Stark replies. "But then I see you here with a boy-toy and I decided to come over and ask if you wanted your old job back."

"No," you huff, before turning back to your food.

"No?" he exclaims. "Listen, I'm not one for admitting I make mistakes---"

"All the more reason for me to not go back to working for you," you interrupt.

He hisses as he breathes in through his teeth. "Look, I lost a lot of clients when I fired you. Hiring you back on would go a long way towards winning them back. So much so, I'll double what I was paying you."

"What happened to the perky little thing who you gave my job to?" Your tone is innocent but you already know what he's going to say.

Rolling his eyes he tells you, "turns out she was better at being bent over the desk than she was working at it. Her incompetence cost me a lot."

"Your incompetence, Mr. Stark," you retort. "I was fine to let her be your plaything while I did the actual work but when she got worried about being fired by HR for not doing her actual job she whined to you and you fired me. Her incompetence is one thing, but you chose to fire me. You fell for her sob story about feeling inadequate. You cost yourself those clients."

"And now I'm apologizing," Stark snipes back. "It's not my strong suit, but fine. I made a mistake in firing you. Come back and I'll triple your pay."

"Not a chance," you shake your head. "My current job doesn't pay as much as you're promising, but I'm treated with the utmost respect for someone of my skills and experience."

"Fucking hell," he sighs. He looks to Jonathan, 'you just gonna sit there? Not gonna defend your girl like a good boyfriend would? Or are you just an escort she hired to make herself feel better?"

"The lady doesn't need my help," Jonathan calmly answers. "Her thorns are quite sharp enough to take you down. Though, if you don't leave us be, I will be forced to ask that you be removed from the restaurant. Perhaps you should go back to your meal? Maybe you'll think more clearly on a full stomach."

Stark gives a huff and an eye roll before turning back towards his table. As soon as his back is turned you let out a shaky breath and Jonathan feels you trembling.

"Are you alright? Do we need to leave?" he asks as he gently turns your face towards his. His brilliant blue eyes are full of concern.

You put your own hand over his, holding him to your cheek. "I'll be okay. That was just...I've been wanting to tell him off for so long."

"Considering the nature of your firing, I'm not surprised," Jonathan admits. "How could someone be so shallow?"

You give a little snort, "it's not just him. Look over my resume. Pretty much every boss I had fired me for shallow reasons as soon as a prettier assistant became an option. Prettier, younger, skinnier, whatever."

He looks pained as he realizes what you've been through. "I have to admit, this does explain several things. And it makes me all the more grateful you've been willing to give me this chance to be with you."

Jonathan cups your face and brings you in for a deep, loving kiss.

Next

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @kmc1989;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @peyton-warren; @ronearoundblindly; @stellar-solar-flare

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Office Space 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you're an assistant to private and corporate investigator, Nick Fowler, and find yourself brought into the fold of his shady professional life. 

Characters: Nick Fowler, Jonathan Pine, this reader is known as Elfie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Another thick folder falls on your desk. You look up as Mr. Fowler strides without a word into his office. No explanation, no directive, as ever he's elusive but demanding. 

You sigh and push your mouse aside, bringing the folder in front of you. You open it up and find stacks of hand-written notes, receipts, and reports. You get the happy task of digitizing each one and sorting it into the electronic archive for investigation.  

Your boss closes himself into his office as you sit in the vacant silence of the small lobby. It's no walk-in location. PI work doesn't exactly operate that way. Corporate investigations are even less advertised. Fowler does more than find the corruption, he scrubs it when necessary. 

You expect the discretion of the work is why he hired you. You don't talk much. You do you work without question and clock out. Still, it doesn't keep you from after hours or early arrivals. He texts and you're where you need to be. 

You sort through the thick folder. Chronological or by type? Some don't have dates and what would you categorize a cocktail napkin as? You get up and haul it all into the copier room. It's the smallest room in the rented space, made tighter by the filing cabinets and the industrial printer. 

You unhook your laptop and bring it into the copier room. You put it on the narrow table and go to task. It's mindless work. You fall into the pattern of scanning, numbering, and cataloguing. The copier hums in the empty static. 

No music, no noise. Your request for white noise was declined without consideration. You accept without argument. Fowler isn't the type to entertain pushback. He's the boss. 

Whatever, you wouldn't trade the silence for the top ten on repeat at your previous retail gig. The people are enough to make you tolerate the isolation. Besides, it's a job, it's not meant to be fun.  

You get your kicks after work; a drink with your fellow corporate drones down at Retro's. Thinking of, it's been some time since you had a spicy margarita. You pause your work and go to retrieve your phone from your purse. As you find it hiding in the middle pocket, Fowler's door opens and he promptly marches over to stamp his mug down on your desk. Shoot. 

"Emergency?" He wonders as his blue eyes narrow at your grip on the phone. 

"No, sir, checking the time," you lie and drop the cell back in your purse and hide it in your drawer. "Coffee?" 

He doesn't answer, merely taps the brim and walks away. He leaves his office door open as he retreats. You give a tight smile to the empty office and snatch up the dark blue cup. 

You take it into the little room meant to be some sort of break space. You don't take breaks and neither does he. You approach the expensive nespresso machine and go through the motions. Cappucino. You've become a pseudo-barista since you started the job. 

The smell of coffee tempts you. You're permitted to have one of your own but you have to supply your own coffee and dairy. It's easier to hit the cafe on your way or pack a cup from home.  

You carry it out and tentatively approach Mr. Fowler's door. You peer inside and clear your throat. He sneers at his phone without acknowledging you. You near and place his cup on the marble coaster beside his apple mouse. 

"We have an extra mug?" He asks without looking up. 

"Yes, sir, I think--" 

"I don't need you to think, I need yes or no." 

"Yes," you swallow down his bluntness. As you least you never have to wonder what's on his mind. He'll tell you. 

"I'm in expecting someone in twenty minutes." 

That's it. You have the pieces, put it together. His visitor will require their own beverage. Lovely. A rare drop-in is hardly exciting, more stressful. If they're important enough to come in, they're important enough to be concerned. 

You go to find a second cup. You have your own, a red travel mug without a handle. You’ll leave the silicon lid in your drawer and give it a quick rinse.  

You wait behind your desk, the mug clean and sparkling beside the nespresso in anticipation. You’ll go back to your scanning once you have the visitor settled. You know Fowler wouldn’t want them walking into an empty desk. In the meantime, you sift through another case file on your screen. 

When the door opens, you pop up, overly alert. That’s not your usual state. This place makes you sleepy. You stand up to greet the man as he steps through. 

He’s tall, taller than Fowler, but slender. While his shoulders are broad, the rest of him is trim. His blonde hair is kept neatly and his blue eyes are crystalline where your boss’ are dark and stormy. This man is like sunshine compared to the usual grim cloud over this place. 

“Hello, uh, sir,” you smile, “you must be here to see Mr. Fowler.” 

“Yes, that’s me,” he says breezily, “Jonathan Pine.” 

“Okay, erm, I’ll let him know you’re here,” you round the desk, hitting your hip on the corner but hiding the pang it sends down your thigh, “uh, would you like a coffee?” 

“How kind to offer, but no, I’m more of a tea drinker,” he replies, “pardon, but I didn’t get your name.” 

“Elfie,” you utter instinctively, “er, excuse me, I’ll just go let Mr. Fowler--” 

You scurry to the office door and it opens before you can reach it. Mr. Fowler steps out and sends you a sardonic look. You wince and step back out of his way. He struts by and approaches Jonathan, Mr. Pine properly, with his hand out in offering. 

“Pine.” 

“Nick,” the man answers familiarly, “long time.” 

“Not long enough,” Fowler counters as they shake hands firmly. He’s a few inches shorter than Pine though hardly falters at the fact. “Elfie, coffee.” 

“She did offer,” Pine intones, “I politely declined. You know it isn’t my style.” 

“Mm, yes, I know your style too well,” Fowler rebuffs and lets him go, gesturing him through his office door. As he follows, he glances back at you and arches a brow. What did you do wrong this time? 

[cynic-spirit]

the stubble

Jonathan had always been meticulous about his appearance, never allowing even the slightest hint of stubble to mar his clean-shaven look. But lately, he'd let it grow out a bit, a subtle change that added a rugged edge to his otherwise polished demeanor.

One evening, as they were spending time together, Yn couldn’t help but notice the difference. The light dusting of stubble across his jawline gave him an air of casual confidence that was impossible to ignore. She found herself staring a little longer than usual, admiring how it softened his sharp features while somehow making him even more attractive.

"You're staring," Jonathan remarked with a knowing smile, catching her in the act.

Yn smiled, unbothered by being caught. "I was just noticing something... different about you."

"Oh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, genuinely curious.

She reached out, lightly running her fingers along his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble against her skin. "This," she said softly, her voice tinged with admiration. "I like it. It's... sexy."

Jonathan's smile widened, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He hadn’t given much thought to the stubble, but hearing her say that, seeing the way she looked at him, made him reconsider. "Is that so?" he murmured, his voice dropping a notch, amused and flattered by her unexpected compliment.

Yn nodded, her fingers lingering on his face. "Very."

He leaned in slightly, closing the distance between them, his gaze intense. "Well, if you like it, I suppose I can keep it a while longer."

His words sent a thrill through her, and she couldn’t help but smile. She loved how effortlessly Jonathan could turn a simple conversation into something charged with unspoken emotions. The stubble was just a small change, but to her, it made him even more irresistible.

Without hesitation, Yn climbed onto Jonathan’s lap, her movements bold and filled with purpose. The intensity of her sudden closeness took him by surprise, but he welcomed it, his hands instinctively settling on her hips as she straddled him. Her lips met his in a passionate kiss, the kind that left no room for doubt about what she felt for him.

As she pulled back for just a moment, her lips brushed against the stubble on his jaw, her breath warm against his skin. “It makes you look rugged and wild,” she whispered, her voice a mix of admiration and desire.

Jonathan's grip on her tightened, a low hum of approval escaping him as her words fueled the fire between them. She didn’t give him a chance to respond, diving back in to kiss him again, her lips trailing along his jawline, down his neck, savoring the roughness of his stubble against her soft skin.

Every kiss was charged with passion, her affection evident in every touch. Jonathan, usually so composed, found himself completely undone by her fervor. His hands moved up her back, pulling her closer, deepening the connection between them as their world narrowed to just this moment, to just the two of them.

The wildness she saw in him matched the untamed desire she was unleashing, and he couldn’t help but let go, losing himself in the heat of her kisses, in the way she made him feel—rugged, wild, and completely hers.

Yn continued her trail of kisses down Jonathan's neck, her lips moving slowly, savoring every inch of his skin. Each kiss was soft yet full of intensity, sending shivers through him. Jonathan closed his eyes, letting the sensation wash over him, enjoying every moment of her affection.

His breathing deepened as she pressed closer, her kisses growing more insistent. The warmth of her breath against his neck, the way her fingers curled into his shirt, all of it made him feel like he was on the edge of control.

Then, she whispered against his skin, her voice hushed and filled with desire. “It makes you look like… you’d take me anytime, anywhere…”

Her words sent a surge of heat through him, and he couldn't help the low, almost primal sound that escaped his throat. The idea, the imagery she painted with just those few words, struck something deep within him.

His hands slid up her back, fingers tracing the curve of her spine as he held her close, almost as if to steady himself against the overwhelming desire she was stirring in him. "And you wouldn’t be wrong," he murmured back, his voice rough with need.

The tension between them crackled, the unspoken promise in her words fueling the fire between them. Jonathan leaned in, his lips finding hers again in a kiss that was anything but gentle, a kiss that matched the wildness she saw in him. He wanted her to know that she was right, that he would take her anytime, anywhere—because when it came to Yn, there were no boundaries, only pure, unbridled passion.

Jonathan's hands, still warm from the closeness of their earlier kiss, gripped Yn's waist with a confident, possessive strength. As she continued to kiss his neck, he took a deep breath, savoring the intimacy of the moment. Without a word, he lifted her effortlessly into his arms, his strong embrace both reassuring and thrilling.

Yn's arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, her lips brushing against his ear as he carried her through the house. Her heart raced, each step he took feeling like a step closer to an even deeper connection.

Jonathan’s stride was purposeful, each movement filled with a sense of urgency and desire. The path to their room seemed to disappear as he focused entirely on Yn, his eyes dark with intensity and affection.

When they reached the door to their room, Jonathan paused for a brief moment, his eyes meeting hers with a look that was both loving and possessive. Without breaking eye contact, he pushed the door open and carried her inside. The room was dimly lit, creating a romantic, intimate atmosphere that only heightened their shared anticipation.

As he gently set her down on the bed, his hands lingering on her body, his lips met hers once more, this time with a passion that matched the fierce energy of their earlier moments. Every touch, every kiss, was a promise of the intensity and closeness they were about to share, a testament to the depth of their connection.

After their intense session, Jonathan remained on top of Yn, both of them breathing heavily from the passion they had just shared. The room was filled with the soft glow of the dim light, and the warmth between them was palpable.

Jonathan’s gaze softened as he looked down at her, a smirk playing on his lips. "I could have had this long before, you know," he said, his voice low and tinged with both satisfaction and a hint of playful regret. "If I’d known this would be the effect."

Yn’s breath hitched slightly at his words, her eyes meeting his with a mix of affection and amusement. She reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead, her touch tender. "You always had the effect, Jonathan," she replied softly, her voice filled with warmth. "It just took this to show you."

His smile widened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her lips, his eyes filled with a newfound tenderness. "Well, I’m glad it finally did," he murmured against her lips. "Wouldn't trade this for anything."

As they lay together, the intensity of their connection lingering in the air, Jonathan’s words were a promise of the depth of his feelings, and the unspoken assurance that this moment, this connection, was something he cherished deeply.

[holdmytesseract]

☆ Campfire Sleepover

(APRIL 2ND - APRIL 7th)

2K Follower Celebration ☆

Dear crew members, readers and friends,

you are all invited to join in on my campfire sleepover starting on Tuesday (April 2nd)! From that day until Sunday (April 7th), you are more than welcome to send me asks/prompts/etc from the following topics/themes into my askbox:

FMK (including all characters of Hiddles, TWD, Doctor Who - or whoever you like!)

Q&A with the characters from my Baby Fever universe! 🍼

Q&A with the characters from the Ice Flower universe! ❄️

Let's talk music! I am an absolute music freak, so hit me up! Tell me your favourite song, a band you wish to see live - whatever you want!

Drabble/Blurb request - Give me a character, prompt and / or line from a song and I'll write a lil' something for you! (PLS be patient!)

Assumptions! Tell me assumptions you made about me, and I'll confirm or deny them!

Song of the day! Send a 🎧 emoji into my askbox, and I'll ask my music game to give me a random song for you - a.k.a, your song of the day! Could be fun, eh?

Characters I am going to write the blurbs/drabbles for:

☆ BabyFever!Loki

☆ IceFlower!Loki

☆Loki

☆ Magnus Martinsson

☆ Tom Hiddleston himself

☆ Daryl Dixon

☆ Kylo Ren?

Tags: @fictive-sl0th @gruftiela @anukulee @theaudacitytowrite @alexakeyloveloki @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @chennqingg @muddyorbsblr @glitchquake @mandywholock1980 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @mochie85 @dryyoursaltyoceantears @chantsdemarins @loz-3 @eleniblue @goblingirlsarah @icytrickster17 @crimson25 @lokidbadguy @hunny-beann @stupidthoughtsinwriting @midgetdemon17 @kimanne723 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokidokieokie @lovingchoices14 @valencia-rou @kikster606 @frzntrx @lokisgoodgirl @huntedmusicgardenn @linaax @km-ffluv @sheris532 @jiyascepter @salvinaa @lcolumbia1988 @blackholeofcreativity @soulpiercing @lou12346789 @loonalockley @liliac-dreamer @simping-for-marvel @jaidenhawke (Continuing in the comments!)

[alicedopey]

Sending a snuggly sweater for the cooler season

Soft to the touch

A/N: So errr... I did a thing. It has haunted me since I got the ask. I hope you are proud of yourself, Roo :)

No warning under the cut, just some bad written stuff.

You softly knocked on the mahogany door of your CEO and opened it after hearing his prompt and professional, “Come in.”

You opened the door and entered the room. The sight that greeted you almost took your breath away. Jonathan Pine was standing in the middle of the room in all his glory and you thanked whoever had decided to create this “casual Friday” tradition. Your boss had replaced his traditional suit for a pair of jeans and what looked to be the softest and comfiest sweater you had ever seen. The blue grey shades were mirroring his kind eyes that matched his so soft and charming smile. His hair had grown since the first day he had been introduced to the staff six months ago. He had let his curls loose and you fought against yourself to not raise your hand and let it run through them. 

He cleared his throat and you startled, suddenly realizing you had been staring for too long.

“is there something wrong, Miss Y/L/N?” He asked and you swore you could feel the smile in his voice.

“No, Sir.” You also cleared your throat to try to regain some composure and chased an invisible dust on your blouse. “I was just admiring your sweater. It seems very…comfy.” So very tempting to the touch too.

As if reading your mind, he casually slid a hand down his sweater. “It is and it is also perfectly warm for the season.” 

Perfect for snuggles too, you could bet. But there was no way you would say it out loud. “It looks like it. You wished to see me, Sir?” You asked to change the subject and rescue you from your own humiliation. 

“Yes, I did. I’m sorry for making you wait so much, especially on a Friday night, but I wanted to finish my few corrections on your different accounting reports.” 

“Is there something wrong?” If there was one thing you were sure of, it was your team. You knew they were working well and you always knew you were not often inclined to make any mistake. 

He handed you the files you had given him earlier this afternoon and threw another one of his ever-charming smiles your way. “Not at all. They are absolutely perfect. It seems your team is one to be trusted.”

“Thank you, sir”. You smiled back and hugged the precious files against your chest. 

“I must apologize again for keeping you so long here.”

“It’s quite alright, Sir. Work has to be done. It will make me enjoy my weekend a bit more.”

He chuckled and you felt yourself shiver at the sound. “Good thinking.” He took a few steps towards you. “I hope you will have a nice one.”

“You too, sir” You gave him a nod as goodbye and walked to the door. You were about to reach the handle when his voice startled you. 

“Would it be very unprofessional of me to ask you to have dinner with me tonight?”

You spun around so fast, you let go of the files and lost your balance. Luckily for you, Jonathan was just a few feet away and instantly circled your waist. “Are you alright? I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you that. I don’t want you to feel any pressure…”

“No!” You almost shouted, resisting the urge to touch him again so that he would not let go. “I mean, I don’t feel any pressure at all. As unprofessional as it may be, I would gladly accept your dinner offer.”

His arm tightened a bit around your waist. “Wonderful. Do you have any preference?”

“No, as long as I’m with you.” You instantly felt mortified and let out a squeak. Why on earth would you say such a thing out loud? You were so going to get fired. 

To your surprise, your boss chuckled again. “It’s quite alright. I also like your company, Darling. Let us enjoy this very unprofessional evening. Who knows what it has in store for us?”

Your belly did a tiny somersault at the term of endearment. This evening was not turning out as you had planned but you were certainly not going to complain. A nice dinner with your boss sounded way more exciting than your usual Friday nights with your salad and an old sitcom to watch on Netflix. Who knew indeed what the night had in store for you? But the way Jonathan Pine was looking at you gave you the tiniest hope that he could maybe feel the same attraction towards you. Maybe you would not sleep alone tonight either after all. 

Your hands finally found their way on his sweater and you almost purred at the softness you met. It was as good as you had imagined. Softest to the touch, perfect for snuggles and…more.

“Promise me, one thing Mr. Pine.” You looked up at him, your hands still running on his sweater dreamily. “Whatever happens, do not take off your sweater.”

Your boss smiled and leaned down until his lips were almost touching yours. “A lady’s wish is my command.”

Tagging: @thezombieprostitute @naaladareia

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Updated: 2023-12-18

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Johnathan Pine stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning

❆ Christmas Boyfriend by sserpente • 〔F〕 •

❆ Christmas in the Mountains by sserpente • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Imagine spending Christmas in the Mountains with Jonathan Pine, spying on a Greek drug dealer… wouldn't it be romantic if he actually knew you were in love with him."

❆ It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas￨by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: "Jonathan loves Christmas and this is his first one working at the Meisters. A chance encounter [with you] gives Jonathan more Christmas joy than he could hope for."

❆ Christmas Miracle by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Last Christmas by jewels2876 • 〔A〕 •

See Also: Navigation || Jonathan Pine Master Index

Authors: @jewels2876 || @just-the-hiddles || @ladyfluff || @sserpente ||

[liminalpebble]

Lock and Key: Part 2 of 2 (A Professor Pine Story)

Part 1 Link

AN: Part 2 of 2, older/ instructor/Jonathan Pine x student/agent/femme reader

CW: Minors DNI. Smutty smut smut. Time to get bothered, hoes!

Lock and Key, Part 2

“You...you're perfect. You can't understand what it's like to struggle like this.”

“I assure you, I am very far from perfect...If you only knew.”

He shook his head sadly, recalling some scar of a memory you couldn't discern. You turned to face him, mere inches from each other.

“If I only knew what, Professor Pine?”

His Adam's apple bobbed with a swallow and he forced his breathing to slow. “That I am very...very...far from perfect. I'm only human. I make mistakes.”

Those lovely ocean eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips.

“And I think I may be about to make another one.”

“Professor Pine...,” you said faintly.

He inched closer until, suddenly, you found yourself in a tiny, intimate space, hermetically sealed from the outside world. Time slowed, and where there had been the insistent ticking of a stopwatch, your beating hearts kept the tempo instead.

In that moment, that elongated moment, all you could feel or sense or breathe was Jonathan Pine and his beautiful, careful, attentive, silence. Nothing could touch you here, under his protection, in the shelter of him; the work, the pressure, the roles of teacher and student....nothing.

You could smell his subtle cologne with his skin so close; woody, fresh, and warm. His nose grazed yours ever so slightly, the heat of your mingled breath radiating in the charged air between you.

He whispered softly,“Just Jonathan...please.”

Please...

He was asking so cautiously, solicitously. His fingers moved to cradle your cheeks; holding your face in both hands as if you were made of porcelain.

Please, let me break open for you.

Please, forgive me for it.

Please, say my name.

Please, remind me who I really am, because every day I'm a little further off.

And finally, after all these years, he remembered.

He remembered as you said his name gently, like an incantation. He remembered as you closed the distance, lips meeting as the entire comforting weight of you pressed urgently against him.

His long arm circled your waist as your lips slotted together perfectly, as if made for each other. Mouths opened, unlocking and granting entrance; jaws that had been clenched so tightly releasing to pant each others names in mounting need. Your hand slid up his immaculately shaved jaw to cradle his head, so heavy with worry, with the burdens of exceptional morality. You ached to alleviate it, And he would let you....god, he would let you do anything, compromise any amount of his considerable moral fortitude, if only you'd stay in his arms.

You had no intention of being anywhere else, as he hoisted you easily onto his desk, sure hands gripping firmly into the pliant curve of your ass. As your eyes fluttered open once more, you watched his expression. Pine's eyes flickered with sparkling sapphire lust, but behind it such vulnerable uncertainty...such desperate need for you, telegraphed in nothing more than the inquisitive peak of an eyebrow. An unspoken question; Please, will you let me inside?

How had you never read it in his face before...that he wanted you so badly and for so long?

Your hand combed through his soft curls and gripped, coaxing a hungry growl from somewhere deep in his chest, and deeper in his soul. His head tilted with the guidance of your hand, exposing that beautifully sinewed throat for you to kiss. His glasses began to tip back, sliding off. You smirked and carefully removed them.

He smiled timidly, chuckling out a “thank you”.

“You're welcome,” you said, as you planted two gentle pecks to the little red marks the frames had left on the sides of his nose and began to rub his temples.

He hummed and you could feel his tightly-muscled body begin to relax under your touch. “Mmm...that's so nice. I was starting to get a headache.”

“I know. I was the cause of it.”

He smiled and rolled his eyes, then met yours again with a more serious expression, stroking a lock of hair away from your face.

“It's been a very long time since anyone's touched me with such tenderness.”

You shook your head, stating definitively, “that's an absolute travesty, professor. You should be touched like this every day of your life.”

You kissed him deeply, sweetly, sincerely.

“You're a good man, Jonathan Pine. The best.”

You gently unzipped his sweater, revealing more of his clavicle and sternum, then traced the newly-exposed skin with your lips and tongue. Your hands skated beneath the hem, fingers exploring the warm ridges and valleys of his musculature as you read him like braille; his firm belly, the ridges of his broad ribs, his hard chest and sturdy shoulders. Then, finally, the garment dropped to the floor and you drank in the splendor of his revealed body. He was a stunning tactile anatomy lesson, and you were dying to learn, to touch more and more.

He unbuttoned your blouse, every bit as nimbly as he locked and unlocked the training contraption. You couldn't help but notice that he had the most exquisite hands, and you weren't about to wait any longer to have them against your skin.

Finishing his work for him, you yanked the shirt off hastily and guided his palms over your shoulders, then to soft curve of your breasts, and lower to the succulent flesh of your belly as you begged, “Jonathan, please, touch me. I can't wait. I need you.”

His lips met your neck without a word as he guided you back against the lacquered surface of his desk, while his hand traveled lower still. The smooth chill of it prickled against your hot skin, but you couldn't care less. You would lay down on a bed of nails if it meant laying beneath Jonathan.

You let out a sharp little gasp as he parted your sensitive lips, gathering your wetness on his fingers and massaging it over your clit in circling presses.

He watched. He was an apt pupil of your pleasure, noting every hitch of your breath and arch of your back beneath his movements. He was gasping with you, panting in awe of you, spread out before him as he had fantasized when he could no longer resist the temptation. He could hardly believe this was real, that you were really here, opened up before him.

His cock ached, watching you writhe in ecstasy because of him. The engorged red tip dripped with insistent need. You slid your hand to where it strained against his clothing, hastily unlatching his belt and gaining access. You moaned at the sensation of his heavy length in your hand, while his came up to gently cup over your mouth.

“Shhhh. The door's locked, but we have to be quiet, darling,” he whispered into your ear, then kissed the soft skin beneath it, making you whimper softly into his palm.

You ran your tongue up his long, lovely fingers and begged, “I need you inside of me, Jonathan. I need you now. I can't wait any longer....please.”

He wasted no time freeing his cock, meeting your gaze as he stroked it a couple times, easing the delicious ache. He swung your legs over his shoulders, soothing you with gentle strokes and kisses to your calf as he rubbed his length between your soaked lips, then pressed inside.

It took all of your self-control not to scream his name as he stretched you slowly, the delectable fullness of the sensation setting you on fire.

Instead, you whispered in a desperate hiss, “Yesss...god...Jonathan. Yes. Move...please, move.”

He nodded, and pulled your hips sharply against himself. You slotted perfectly together, like a lock and key; utterly and entirely made to open for each other.

He began to move in the most perfect rhythm. The sight of him fucking faster and harder into you while your legs bounced against his his strong shoulders had you rapidly approaching your peak. You could see in the way his mouth dropped open and his eyes closed, savoring the sensation, that he was approaching the same.

He pulled you up, sliding your legs down so that he could hold you close against him while you reached the precipice.

He groaned, begging, “Please...god...please. Come for me, darling. I want to watch you fall apart.”

You climbed higher and higher as he watched. When you finally let go, you bit his shoulder to muffle the scream that would have surely come from you otherwise.

The sensation of your gripping cunt and the sting of your teeth only sent him hurtling faster towards his own release. He grunted into your ear, saying, “I'm...ahhh. I'm close. Where....where do you want me, darl...”

You held his face, met his eyes, and whimpered, “Inside...stay inside, please.”

That was all he need to hear as he buried himself to the hilt inside of you, spilling with hot trembling pulses. You could feel his whole frame shudder where you were pressed so firmly against him.

----

Curled together in the afterglow, slumped against him, you could feel the undulations of his slowing breath and the lively beat of his heart. He cradled your head against his chest, stroking your cheek with his thumb. He kissed the top of your warm head, and breathed in the scent of your hair, committing every detail of you to memory.

He was desperate to remember as he thought sorrowfully...

What if this can never happen again? What if this was a mistake?

As if you could hear his thoughts, you met his eyes and assured him, “Jonathan, I don't regret this. Please, don't regret this either.”

He held you closer still, suddenly terrified that you would slip away from him, like everything and everyone else he had ever loved.

“How could I?”, he asked. “I could never regret this. I only regret that I've seriously compromised your training.”

“I...um...I think I'll tell Director Burr that I want to remain headquarters staff tomorrow. I don't think I want to be a field agent.”

Pine sighed heavily in relief, but said, “Please, don't do it on my account. You're actually quite promising. I just wanted the extra training with you to be sure you'd be prepared. I was so worried about you in the field, too worried. It was unprofessional of me....selfish...God...I'm so sorry. I should have...”

You cut him off with a finger to his lips. “Jonathan. I didn't want to be a field agent, anyway.”

“What?” He said, eyes wide in surprise.

“I...I didn't have my heart set on becoming a field agent. I didn't really want it. I did want to learn new skills, but mostly I wanted,” you averted your eyes, embarrassed, “I wanted more time with you.”

He tipped your chin up to look at him and smiled, “I'm flattered....and you got your wish. And I hope you'll spend a good deal more time with me now?”

“I'd like that...Professor Pine,” you said with a coy smile.

@smolvenger @muddyorbs @gruftiela @gigglingtiggerv2 @unicorn-of-mischief @annoyingsweetsstranger @eleniblue @bookworm-christina @loz-3 @queenoffiresign88 @goblingirlsarah @sweetsigyn

Thanks for reading along, loves. I hope this little two-parter was everything you hoped for.