#maybe i should send her an email tomorrow and see if she has any suggestion for something I should adjust | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

raibebe · 4 years ago

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Love Is On Air

Genre: fluff & smut Words: 8.722 Prompt: radio host Johnny x secret admirer female reader Warnings: soft dom Johnny, oral (f receiving), safe sex, dirty talk

A/N: Finally: My entry for the February event of my lovely network @neosmutcollective. This is totally not the fic I planned on writing. In fact this was started way later after I realized I was never going to finish my original fic on time. Not that this one is on time... Special thanks to everyone who sent our lovely DJs some music recommendations @sly-merlin, @moonctzeny, @lenaluvs, @lucas-wongs, @burtonized and to @ncteaxhoe who helped me figure out this idea. I hope you enjoy this even though it’s wayyy too late.

You hurried home to your apartment after your last class of the day that was horrifically late because of whoever had fucked up your schedule this semester. Panting heavily, you busted into your room and threw your jacket and backpack somewhere onto your couch, diving straight for your laptop that was perched on your desk. Cursing the old thing, you waited for agonizing minutes until it had booted up and your browser was open. You quickly opened the familiar page of your university’s campus radio just in time to hear the familiar voice saying: “Hi I’m John-D, welcome to NCT Night Night.” After that both hosts chuckled lowly before Jaehyun spoke: “Tonight we’ll read some of the letters you wrote us over the week again and we will try our best to help you out with whatever problems you throw our way.” “Exactly. Right after we play this song that was suggested by evangelie_99 over on our Twitter, it’s Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County and she said that she loves our show. We’re glad you like it so much, darling. This one is for you,” Johnny softly said before the soft tunes of the song filled your little one-room apartment.

Sighing, you leaned back in your chair, carelessly toeing your shoes off. Listening to NCT Night Night was your escape at night from the stress that classes brought you. The two DJs that were on air every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday were your favorites though. Not only did they have great chemistry but they both could be incredibly funny as well as soothe all your nerves with their calming voices – especially Johnny or John-D as he was called on their show. You might have developed a slightly embarrassing crush on the fratboy with a heart as sweet as his voice from what you knew about him from his radio shows and your shared classes. Since they had started their weekly segment where they would read out letters that students could send them, you had gathered the courage to send Johnny little messages about how you were crushing on him and it had quickly become a running gag on the show. Jaehyun would tease Johnny about it every week while Johnny kept insisting that his secret admirer should just talk to him. But how could you do that? Johnny was everything one could want in a boyfriend. Not only was he ridiculously tall and devastatingly handsome but he was also smart, always seemingly staying on top of his classes and he also went to the gym regularly if his thirst traps on his Instagram stories were anything to go by. When he wasn’t giving out advice in a gentle voice on their radio program, he was out partying with his frat brothers on the weekends more often than not complaining about headaches on their Sunday show. How could you just walk up to him and talk to him? Right. You couldn’t. So you had to resign to sending him anonymous love letters through his radio show.

“Welcome back, hi,” Johnny chuckled once the song had gently faded out and you couldn’t help but giggle along. “That was Pluto Projector by Rex Orange County,” Jaehyun tried to stay on script but you could almost hear the grin on his face because of Johnny’s antics, “If you want your song to play on today’s show, please suggest something over on our Twitter with the hashtag,” Jaehyun paused momentarily and let out a dramatic sigh before continuing, “hashtag JohnDplaymelikeaviolin.” Jaehyun hadn’t even read the whole hashtag out loud when Johnny was already bursting out in laughter and how could you not laugh along with his melodic laughter. “I swear to god I am never letting you choose hashtags for our show ever again,” Jaehyun groaned while Johnny sounded like he was still dying in the background. “Don’t be mean to me Jaehyunie,” he whined and even though today’s episode was not viewable, you could vividly imagine how he was pouting. While the two friends were busy bickering and talking about what they had done since their last show, you pulled up your own Twitter to send a recommendation in.

“Aaaah, I see we’re already getting plenty of suggestions. Sly-merlin suggested us Sexy Dirty Love by Demi Lovato – a great song – and added ‘I wish John-D would actually play me like a violin.” After a potent silence, Johnny broke out in laughter again. “And this is why you won’t choose any more hashtags,” Jaehyun groaned again. “Baby,” Johnny rasped into his mic and even though you weren’t wearing headphones, it sent tingles down your spine, “Just come to our frat party on Friday and I’ll see what I can do.” “Stop plugging our parties on the radio,” Jaehyun scolded the elder, the slap audible over the radio, “Also sly-merlin has to stand in line. You still have your number one admirer who has sent in a letter yet again.” “She still hasn’t come up to me,” Johnny shared, “I can only keep up my chastity for so long. I am saving myself for this girl.” You know he was joking but you were just a simple woman and even in your secluded home, you felt heat rising to your cheeks, your thumbs stopping on your keyboard where you had typed out your song recommendation. Both DJs shared a quiet laugh before Jaehyun asked: “And you really don’t know who she is?” “I really don’t man,” his friend sighed, “Like I have my suspicions because she has to be in my major if she sees me in class that often. That or she’s a stalker which I do not want to think about. But for real, hit me up. I’ll take you out for a coffee.” “Now everyone is going to come up to you and claim that they’re her.” “I’ll take that risk,” Johnny laughed, “Maybe I’ll finally meet the love of my life and settle down.” At that Jaehyun snorted loudly. “The woman that can make you settle down gets free coffee for like a month from me.” “Watch me have a wife and kids at 25 Jae, just to spite you,” his friend snorted, “But up until then, let’s play sly-merlin’s song recommendation: Sexy Dirty Love by Demi Lovato.”

While the song was playing, you finished up your own tweet and hit post before you grabbed your bag that you had carelessly thrown away before to get out your notes. You actually had to start a project for one of the classes you and Johnny actually did share. The professor had announced that he would announce the pairings for a group project tomorrow and you didn’t want to seem like an actual idiot if your group would decide to already meet up and discuss after class. So while you listened to your favorite DJs discuss the questions and worries of whoever had sent them to their email address, you worked through the notes you had taken over the last couple of weeks, trying your best to organize them to remember the key points.

“Oh John-D, I have a very special letter here,” Jaehyun said, waving the paper in front of the microphone so it would pick up the wiggling noises. “What could that be?” Johnny asked with over-exaggerated interest. “It’s from your secret admirer, John-D. So I think you should read it out.” Just like every time, they read your letter, your heart began beating faster and faster in your chest until you were sure, it would break free from your ribcage. “Okay, here I go,” Johnny announced while Jaehyun was playing the same cheesy music he always played when they were reading your letters, “Happy Thursday, John-D. The weekend is almost in reach, keep up the energy for the last day of classes! – she’s so sweet, I’m holding up alright – One of my professors will announce the pairings he made for a group project soon and I am nervous. I don’t have many friends in the course and I’m praying that I will get good group mates I can work well with.” “Oooh, I get that struggle,” Jaehyun interrupted, “I once had to work with a bunch of stoners and ended up doing all the work for a presentation that made up 30 percent of my grade. Worst experience of my life, would not recommend. But we’re wishing you all the luck.” “But you know what’s more interesting about this story?” Johnny tuned in, “Coincidentally my professor for my literature class is assigning our group projects tomorrow as well. Say, my sweet admirer, are you perhaps in the same literature class as me?” In your otherwise silent room, the panicked squeak you let out was loud even to your ears. There was no way Johnny could figure out who you were, there were probably at least 20 more girls with a crush on him in that class alone, so you were safe. “Oooh, so maybe she’s a lit major so that’s why she’s writing love letters.” “Could be but lots of people from different majors are taking that class,” Johnny argued, “Anyways, back to her letter. But I won’t let that disturb me! I will be doing my best regardless! – That’s the spirit – I’ll work through my notes as I listen to your honey voice so I can be prepared. I’m glad you don’t do viewable radios on Thursday’s or else I wouldn’t be able to get anything done, you’re just too distracting John-D,” at that Jaehyun let out a fake gag while Johnny just giggled softly, “Thank you secret admirer, I do clean up quite nicely if I do say so myself. – On last Sunday’s episode you melted my heart when you hid in your hoodie for half the show. – God that was the worst hangover I had in a looong while, I was so miserable.”

“You should have seen him at home,” Jaehyun laughed, “I had to physically drag his whole 180-something-centimeters body first into the shower, then into the car and into the station. He is the biggest crybaby when he’s hungover.” “Don’t expose me like that, Jaehyunie,” Johnny whined loudly, “I was dared to drink a bunch of tequila and my mother didn’t raise neither a quitter nor a coward.” “No, but clearly an idiot,” the younger DJ laughed his deep laugh. “Let me read my love letter in peace,” the other grumbled, “I couldn’t follow for half the show because I was so focused on watching you. Not in a creepy way of course! – Of course not,” Johnny chuckled, “I hope you finished that essay you had to work on after the show in time and still had some time to relax. – I did, don’t worry.” That you already knew when Johnny had handed in his essay in another class you two shared just before you had handed in yours and he had thrown you a little smile that had kept you going through the whole day. “Take care of yourself and keep smiling your beautiful smile, I look forward to seeing you again on Sunday or in classes. And fighting to Jae-D as well of course! – I look forward to hearing from you again, secret admirer. I bet your group project will go just fine, don’t worry too much. If anyone is mean to you, just expose them here and we’ll fight them for you.” “Love that she acknowledged me in one sentence as well,” Jaehyun grumbled, cutting off the cheesy music abruptly. “You’re just jealous you don’t have a sweet admirer who sends you cute messages,” the other teased his friend. “Yeah, yeah, shut up and put that letter in the box under your bed.” “It’s in my sock drawer, thank you very much.”

Giggling, you listened to the two friends bicker, your chest warm with a feeling you were scared to put a name on. “Anyways, I think it’s time for another music recommendation you can still send in via our lovely hashtag JohnDplaymelikeaviolin. This one is from lenaluvies and she says: Please play Hurts So Good by Astrid S thank you. No, thank you for sending something in darling. This one’s for you,” Johnny announced and you couldn’t help but laugh a little pained laugh. That song title hit a little too close to home for your liking. The rest of the radio show went by smoothly and Johnny and Jaehyun tried to help a handful of more students with their problems that couldn’t be more diverse. From a boy who had fallen in love with his best friend which had send him into an identity crisis over to a girl who was failing her classes because she claimed the professor hated her to a freshman who wanted to apply for a fraternity but was scared because of the rumors surrounding them which the DJs quickly debunked since they both were in the same fraternity. In the end they had to cut themselves short, asking their viewers to vote on a poll they would make if people wanted a whole Tuesday episode surrounding fraternities.

“So.” “So,” Johnny copied his friend. “We’re almost at the end of our time with you guys. We couldn’t get through all of your submissions but we hope our team picked a few good ones and at least some of you could get some advice.” “As always you’re free to send us your own stories to our e-mail [email protected] to get some advice next Thursday from your favorite DJs: John-D.” “And Jae-D. Every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday on your campus radio on 127mHz. On NCT-“ “Night Night,” they said their ending together and just like every night with them, you said goodnight to your computer screen, closing the tab which draped your little apartment in silence. Sighing loudly, you looked over your notes that needed a little more work if you wanted to make a good first impression on your fellow students tomorrow. Because you couldn’t stand the silence, you opened your Spotify to play the NCT Night Night playlist Johnny and Jaehyun had made with the songs that had been recommended to them, still missing the new additions from tonight.

The next morning found you in your literature class, sitting two rows behind Johnny, staring at the back of his head while doodling on your paper rather than taking notes on whatever the professor was saying. If you were to let your eyes wander, you’d see that almost everyone in the big room was paying as much or even less attention as you were; the students in different states of excitement and anxiety over the group projects he had yet to announce. “I’m sorry professor,” Johnny’s voice suddenly cut through the room, “I’m sure you have already noticed that no one is paying attention to whatever you’re trying to teach us right now. Could you please just announce the groups for the project?” That moment you swore you would be able to hear a pin drop until your eccentric professor chuckled lowly. “I like you, Suh. I was waiting for someone to mention it,” he spoke, getting the dreaded list out of his bag, “Listen closely now, you’ll be assigned in groups of four and each group will get a specific novel to work on. Deadline will be by the end of the semester and your individual paper combined with the group presentation will make up 40% of your final grade.” That made a bunch of people, including you, gasp out loudly. A group project with this much credit to your final grade was always dreaded. “I don’t want to hear any complaints, that’s how it’s always been. Now listen carefully, I won’t repeat myself but the list will be hung on our blackboard as well.” With that being said, the professor began listing names and novels in the most monotone voice he could muster. To say you were basically vibrating off of your seat was an understatement when he got further and further down the list and neither yours nor Johnny’s name had been called yet. “And lastly, an all-time favorite: Romeo and Juliet.” You didn’t even register anything else after the professor had announced that the group featured both Johnny and you along with two other students you didn’t know. Your brain was reduced to static noise while everyone else was getting up around you to pick up the books that had already been stacked in a corner, probably by a poor TA. Only when a person bumped into you, you broke from your stupor to quickly pick up your stuff as well to hurry down to steps to where a crowd of students had already gathered.

Luckily Johnny towered over most of the other students and you could easily spot him and the rest of your group that were two other boys you didn’t recognize. “Hey, you’re the last one we were missing,” Johnny smiled and handed you over your copy of the book. “Y... Yeah, sorry for making you wait,” you stuttered, clutching the small book tightly in your hands. “No big deal,” Johnny played it off, “Do any of you have any more classes today?” When everyone declined, you all agreed that you should get a head start on your project as it would be hard to make a good project out of such an overused love story. While walking over to the student center to decide on a concept, conversation flowed easily between the four of you even though you were still really nervous to be around Johnny. God, you really hoped he didn’t think you were stupid or something just because you were nervous.

The little study session went by in a blur and only further confirmed that you were so whipped for Johnny it wasn’t even funny anymore. You found yourself attentively listening to all of his ideas and laughing at every of his stupid little jokes and only mildly spacing out while looking at Johnny when the others were discussing ideas which had led to one or two mildly embarrassing situations where you would lose track of what you were actually discussing, your mind blank of any input when they asked for your opinion.

Soon you found yourself parting ways with your groupmates, leaving you and Johnny alone because his frat house and your little apartment were located in the same general direction. “Anything fun you’re doing this evening?” Johnny asked, trying to make some light conversation to fill the silence. “No, I’ll just binge watch some shows maybe or listen to the campus radio,” you shrugged it off. While today’s show wasn’t your favorite, you quite liked the DJs soft and gentle voice. “You listen to the campus radio? I have a show on there,” Johnny smiled. “I like listening to you and Jaehyun,” you confessed, trying to fight the heat that was licking at your cheeks. “Oh.” “You seem surprised.” “Yeah, it kind of still seems weird that people enjoy listening to Jae and me rambling for hours on end. You know with him it just feels like I’m hanging out with my brother rather than work.” “Your voices are really soothing, you know,” you tried to explain what you were feeling when listing to them, “And your friendship is kind of adorable. Like we can feel how much you care about each other and you always genuinely try to help your listeners without making fun of them.” For a while Johnny didn’t say anything and you thought you had fucked it up, that he thought you were weird now. “Thank you,” he suddenly said. “Huh?” “It means a lot hearing that. We do lurk on Twitter to see what people think of our show but hearing it like this is something else entirely.” “It’s nothing,” you mused, playfully hitting his arm, “No need to get this soft.” “Hey,” he laughed, “I’ll have you know that I am 180 centimeters of walking softness despite what people might say about me.” Smiling softly you caught his eyes for the first time since you two had started walking and the way his honey eyes were smiling back at you momentarily took your breath away.

“I- My room is right around here, sooooo,” you stuttered. “It was nice working with you. Even though you were spacing out half the time,” Johnny teased, “Thinking about a special someone?” You. The word sat on the tip of your tongue, the low light of the afternoon sun making you bolder than you actually were and Johnny just made you feel incredibly comfortable. “No... No- I- I’m single.” “A crush then?” “Something like that,” you mumbled, your fingers nervously playing with the hem of your jacket. “Talk to him. Or her. Or them,” Johnny advised. “I really can’t,” you sighed, “He doesn’t even know I exist.” “Well you don’t need to confess your undying love for him,” he laughed, not knowing he was the boy in question, “Just you know. Casually talk to him. Get to know him.” “I’ll try?” “Is that a question?” “Yeah?” “Have more confidence in yourself,” he gently nudged you, “You’re nice and very easy to talk to.” “Nice... Wow.” “Shut up,” he laughed, “I usually give better compliments but I have yet to get to know you better.” “Would you... Would you even want that?” “Sure,” Johnny shrugged and your heart skipped a couple of beats, “I have to get going or everybody will already be drunk when I arrive. So... I’ll see you in class? And you’ll hear me on Sunday?” “Yeah sure. Don’t drink too much or you will be miserable all show like last week,” you giggled. “Don’t remind me,” he groaned, “I’m never going to drink tequila on a Saturday ever again.” “Goodbye Johnny,” you smiled, really liking how his name sounded when you said it out loud. “Bye,” he waved before going his way.

Once you were sure he was out of hearing distance, you let out a little happy squeak and jumped up and down excitedly. You did it. You had actually done it. You had talked to your crush. And managed to not make a complete fool out of yourself in front of him. Which was a win in your books. A huge win. With a little spring in your steps, you stepped by one of your favorite pizza places to treat yourself before heading home where you spend your evening daydreaming about none other than Johnny while watching reruns of old dramas.

“Hi, I’m Jae-D.” “And I am John-D. Welcome to NCT-“ “Night Night.” “John-D.” “Yes, Jae-D,” Johnny chuckled. “It’s Thursday again which means it’s time to tend to our listener’s worries,” Jaehyun read off of the script, not getting distracted by his friend’s antics, “And today is a very special episode.” “Special?” Jaehyun barely repressed to roll his eyes at his friend’s over-exaggerated acting before continuing: “Yes, since tomorrow is a day off for all students, we have decided to make this episode extra lengthy and-“ he shortly stopped to flash the camera a peace sign, “Viewable despite it being Thursday.” “Do we look okay?” Johnny laughed, checking himself out in the video that was playing on one of their monitors. “Aaaaah, the comments say we look good tonight, thank you,” Jaehyun mused.

And they really did. Not that either of them had to do a whole lot to look good but today they were both wearing white button-downs with their sleeves rolled up to expose their forearms. Jaehyun had even gone so far as to put on some fake glasses. “And if you’re following us on our Twitter you also already know that this week it’s all about love on our campus radio and our show today is no exception,” Johnny read his part of the script. “Today John-D and Jae-D are Loveholics, trying our very best to help you with your problems surrounding love,” Jaehyun completed, “You can send in song recommendations through the hashtag JohnJaeLoveholic just like taryn1026 did – I hope I said that right – but they recommended Paris in the Rain by Lauv to set the mood for today.”

The soft tunes of the song made you relax a little into your sofa where you had chosen to watch today’s episode of NCT Night Night. You had to say that you were kind of nervous for today’s episode. Just like every week you had written your letter to Johnny, telling him about your week and cheering him on for your group project. At this point it should have been pretty obvious just who exactly you were and judging by how Johnny was acting towards you, his flirting leaving you flustered after your study sessions and your group mates mildly annoyed, he seemed to already have put together the pieces. But yesterday while writing your letter you had felt extra bold (and maybe also extra riled up and horny from Johnny’s shameless flirting) and had written him a message that should confirm all his suspicions and would hopefully lead him straight to you and into your bed. But until the end of the show or at least until they read your letter, which you really hoped they did today as well, you had to wait sitting in your apartment, for once not in comfortable clothes but in a nice shirt and pants.

“That was Paris in the Rain by Lauv, recommended to us by taryn1026 through our Twitter with the hashtag JohnJaeLoveholic,” Johnny’s raspy voice filled your apartment when he leaned close to the mic, “Jae-D are you ready to make some love happen?” “I already had my love juice,” Jaehyun answered, showing his pink Starbucks drink to the camera, “And my reading glasses are on.” As to prove his point, he hiked his glasses up his nose before scratching his eye through the holes in the frame, making both DJs chuckle. For the next hour Johnny and Jaehyun tried to solve several relationship dramas as well as a very tricky friends-with-benefits situation and telling a boy to break up with his cheating girlfriend which had been a rather heartbreaking discussion. “So after this,” Jaehyun sighed, “Let’s play another song recommendation. Burtonized has sent in a very fitting song, I hope you all don’t mind a little Korean: It’s God Damn by I.M – a song about heartbreak.”

While the foreign song was playing, the two DJs stretched their backs and sipped on their respective drinks: Jaehyun still on his pink sugar concoction and Johnny already on his second iced Americano. Jaehyun must have found something funny on his phone, nudging his friend to look at him but Johnny was busy typing away on his own, only acknowledging his friend after he had typed his message. Just after that, your own phone buzzed with a message, showing Johnny’s name on the screen.

From: Johnny Are you watching our show?

To: Johnny Sure, you look good today

From: Johnny Make sure to listen closely ;)

“That was God Damn by I.M suggested by burtonized over our Twitter hashtag JohnJaeLoveholic,” Jaehyun’s smooth voice tore you from your spiraling thoughts about the winking face Johnny had sent. “Sadly our show is coming to an end even with our extended airtime.” “But John-D a very important letter is still missing before we close our show. Dare I say it could be the highlight of our show,” Jaehyun joked, already playing the cheesy music he was always playing when Johnny would read your letters. “You’re right Jae-D my lovely secret admirer has sent in another letter,” Johnny mused, arranging himself so he could read the printed out letter while being as close as possible to the mic for it to pick up the rasp in his voice, “Happy Thursday John-D, I hope your week has been more exciting than mine. I have just been going from class to class without much thought, the only high points are my group meetings for the group project we have to hand in soon – That seems very familiar, baby – But since today is all about love, I’ll tell you about a little problem I have: – get your love juice ready, Jae – There is this boy in my group. And boy isn’t really the right word to describe him, he’s a man really,” at that Johnny couldn’t hold back a low chuckle, “I’m sorry, I’ll be serious – And he is flirting with me. Has been for a couple of weeks now. And it has gotten to the point where our groupmates are kind of annoyed at us. He has also walked me home a couple of times but he never so much as touched me. At this point I am so frustrated with him. Is he just playing with me? Or is his mouth bigger than his actions actually are? He has been riling me up all day today and I was ready to let him have his way with me but he only wished me goodnight and left again, leaving me to deal with what he had done all by myself – oh wow, I,” Johnny stuttered, sharing a gaze with his friend who was only barely repressing his laughter, “Wow, okay, I hope we’re in the good for reading this out and it’s late enough,” clearing his voice and raking a hand through his hair, Johnny continued, “John-D I hope this man hears what he has done to me and will deal with the consequences of his actions. Would you play Animal by Jin Yosef and RIELL for me? Just in case this letter hasn’t gotten my point across? – Y... Yeah sure, darling. We’ll play that once our show is over.”

“So John-D,” Jaehyun grinned while loudly slurping on his ‘love juice’, “What would you advice your secret admirer to do about this problem?” “Well if I were her,” Johnny started, his gaze going straight to the camera where he knew you were watching and it felt like he was looking straight into your soul, “I’d wait for him. I’m pretty sure he can prove that his actions speak even louder than his words.” For a while it was quiet between the two DJs, safe for Jaehyun’s obnoxiously loud slurping noises but even if they would have been saying anything, you weren’t sure if you could have comprehended any words with how furiously your heart was beating. “Anyways,” Jaehyun eventually broke the silence once he was sure there was nothing left in his ‘love juice’, “I’m afraid that was it for tonight. This has been your extra lengthy episode of Jae-D and John-D and we will leave you with this wonderful song recommendation: Animal by Jin Yosef and RIELL. If you’ve liked today’s show, we’re here every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday night on your campus radio on 127mHz to listen to all of your worries on NCT-“ “Night Night,” Johnny joined in and they both waved into the camera as your song of choice started playing. The video stream didn’t cut off immediately, showing the boys gathering their things and if your eyes weren’t betraying you, you swore you saw Johnny tense up when the song turned a little more explicit. The two DJs waved to the camera one last time before the stream cut off, leaving the screen of your laptop dark.

That was when it dawned on you what you had done. Shit. With how Johnny had sounded, you probably had about fifteen to twenty minutes until he would be at your doorstep. Oh god. Shit. Taking a couple of deep breaths, you tried to ground yourself before hurriedly closing your laptop and cleaning everything that seemed messy in your little one-room apartment. That was until you heard a knock on your door.

With shaky hands, you slowly opened the door and while you knew who would be standing on the other side, you weren’t ready for how he was going to look like: Johnny was leaning against the doorway casually with his arms crossed over his chest so the tight button-down he was wearing would strain over the planes of his chest muscles but what really reeled you in was how dark his eyes looked when he raked them over your body. “Good evening miss,” he drawled. “Hi,” you breathed. “Tell me what you want so I’m not misinterpreting any of this,” Johnny all but growled, one of his hands coming up to cup your face. “I want you to have me.” If you thought his eyes were dark before, they turned into bottomless black orbs once the words had left your lips. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, baby.” “Please,” you whimpered and that seemed to break Johnny’s resolve as he pulled you close to him and all but crashed his lips into yours. The kiss wasn’t delicate in any way, shape or form with how Johnny was licking into your mouth the second a moan left your lips. His tongue was intertwining with yours messily and in no time both of you were panting into each other’s mouths. “Inside. Now,” you rasped. “All with due time,” Johnny chuckled but let you pull him into your apartment, slamming the door shut to crowd you against it, one of his strong thighs slipping between your legs like it belonged there, “If you’re a good girl and listen well, I’ll give you anything you want.” “Fuck,” you cursed before slamming your lips together again, a new neediness bleeding into the kiss as you tugged on the longer strands of hair at the back of Johnny’s neck which made him growl lowly. “Anything off-limits?” Johnny breathed into your skin as he kissed down your neck to suck a mark there while his hands were busy pulling your shirt from your pants so he could rake them over your naked skin. “Just,” you had to cut yourself off with a moan, “Don’t be mean to me.” “Never,” he promised, “You’ll be my pillow princess.” His sweet words were in stark contrast to how hard his hands were gripping your hips and how his teeth were grazing over your neck that must be littered with marks already. “Take me to bed,” you heaved breathlessly, positive your legs would give out if it wasn’t for Johnny holding you up.

Listening to your demand, he slowly started walking you backwards towards your bed until the two of you were toppling down on top of the covers, his lips never leaving your skin. Whoever had spread the rumors about Johnny being a great lover had been absolutely right, he knew just how to touch you to have you gasping for air and judging by the grin on his lips he hadn’t even started yet. “Please,” you whimpered, arching into his touch, not exactly sure what exactly you were asking for but Johnny seemed to know all the better when he freed you from your top and pants to leave you in your matching lace set while he was still fully clothed in his by now wrinkled button-up and pants. “All for me?” He chuckled and pressed a kiss right between the valley of your breasts, his big hands cupping the soft flesh to squeeze it gently. “Have me,” you gasped out and you could feel the growl he let out vibrating where you were pressed together. “I’m going to ruin you,” Johnny promised, pulling down the cups of your bra to wrap his plush lips around one of your nipples to tease the soft nub until it hardened under his ministrations, sending waves of pleasure down your spine and straight to your core where you could feel your wetness starting to seep into the fabric of your panties. “Johnny,” you mewled and arched into his every touch, his calloused fingertips setting your skin alight when he let them travel down your body to tease over your lower stomach. As if by reflex, you let your thighs fall open for him to finally touch you where you needed him the most. “Such a good girl,” he smiled, blowing cold air over your spit-slicked nipple to watch you squirm beneath him. Your remark got stuck in your throat when he finally cupped you through your panties, feeling how damp the fabric had already become. “Naughty,” he chuckled, his eyes never leaving your face as he circled your clit through the fabric, watching your eyes fluttering shut when his gaze became too intense.

“Johnny,” you sighed, forgetting all other words except for his name. “Relax, princess,” he rasped and kissed his way down your body, leaving love bites on the sensitive skin of your stomach and thighs that shook with anticipation. If you’d say you hadn’t dreamed about his lips on you like this, you would lie and you weren’t going to miss the sight of this for nothing. Fighting back the fog that had started to cloud your mind, you forced your eyes open to look down to where he had settled between your open thighs to find him staring right back at you. “Good girl,” he praised you again before pressing a kiss over your clothed sex that made your head fall back already, the anticipation of what was to come making you push up your hips which made Johnny chuckle lowly. He didn’t leave you any time to feel embarrassed by how needy you were when he hooked your panties to the side unceremoniously and licked a broad stripe up your center, tasting your arousal. “Oh fuck,” you breathed out, your hands flying down to tangle them in the long strands of his hair. Johnny worked his tongue in slow and clever strokes, leaving your mind reeling with pleasure and taking his time to take you apart piece by piece, not even paying attention to your leaking center or your aching clit. But when he did wrap his lips around your clit to gently suck on the nub, your mind almost went numb with how intense his touch was, your thighs clamping shut around him. To make it even worse, he started humming around you while prying your thighs back open, holding you down with his large hands. You felt your orgasm approach almost embarrassingly fast now that he was altering between teasing your clit with his tongue, lips and even his teeth and fucking your velvety walls with his tongue, setting your nerve endings on fire. “Johnny I’m close,” you warned him but instead of slowing down, he stretched his jaw wide to press his tongue further into you, his nose bumping into your clit in the process and with the combined sensation and his doubled effort, it took no time for your first orgasm of the night to wash over you, a scream of his name leaving your lips as you shook through it, your mind going equally as numb as your legs.

When you came back to it, Johnny had straightened up between your legs and he was grinning down at you while he was unbuttoning his shirt, his face still shiny with your arousal. “That was the first one,” he spoke darkly. “Come here,” you whined, making grabby hands for him until he took pity on you and covered your body with his before connecting your lips in a bruising kiss. You could still taste yourself on his lips but that somehow just made it even hotter.

“Want you inside me,” you panted against his lips when Johnny broke the kiss in favor of raking his teeth over your racing pulse. “Yeah?” He rasped and ground his hips down into yours, making you feel him strain against the fabric of his pants. “Need it,” you moaned at the sweet friction. “Think you can take me?” He laughed as he leaned back on his hunches to pop open the button of his pants, pulling down the zipper agonizingly slow. With wide eyes you watched him push his pants down his narrow hips, leaving him in just his navy boxers that showed the sizable imprint of his hard cock, the fabric against the head dark from where he had leaked precum. Chuckling, he stroked over the outline and just the sight alone made your mouth water. “Show me,” you breathed, spreading your thighs so he could see your needy core, clenching around nothing. “Hmm,” he hummed, dragging one of his fingers that wasn’t preoccupied with teasing himself through the mess of arousal and his saliva between your legs, only barely dipping it into you to feel the muscles trying to suck him inside. “Don’t tease me,” you whined high in your throat. “But I like seeing you squirm,” Johnny grinned but took mercy on you and sunk his finger into you up to the knuckle, gently pumping it inside you. Still sensitive from how intense your last orgasm had been, you were torn between pulling away and wanting more but Johnny made the decision for you when he pulled his finger out, wiping your arousal onto your thigh.

“Eyes on me,” he commanded and finally freed his cock from his briefs. “Fuck.” The curse left your lips without even noticing at the sight of his flushed cock, too heavy to properly stand up against his toned abs. The tip was tinted red and shiny with precum that Johnny generously spread down that whole length, his eyes not leaving yours as you watched him lazily jerk himself. “Like what you see?” You eagerly nodded your head. “Want it inside me.” “Yeah? Show me.”

Throwing all caution out of the window, you quickly sucked two of your fingers between your lips before guiding them to your weeping core to slip them inside you, letting out an over-exaggerated moan as you crooked them. “Oh you’re so naughty, baby,” Johnny groaned, squeezing the base of his cock tightly as he watched you fingering yourself and if you had even one coherent thought left in your head, you’d have the decency to be embarrassed because of how intensely he was staring. “It’s not enough,” you pouted, pulling your fingers free and spreading them to look at the slick covering them, “I’m so wet for you.” “Such a dirty mouth,” he groaned, quickly grabbing his pants to fish a condom from his wallet to roll over his hard length. “Please, Johnny,” you hiccupped, winding your legs around his waist to pull him closer to you. “Sssh, princess,” he soothed you, running his hands over your torso before bending down to press tender kisses to your stomach, “I’ll take care of you.” “Please kiss me.”

Dropping his elbows next to your head to support his weight, he covered your body with his and caught your lips in a kiss much too tender for your current situation, taking his time to explore your mouth until you were perfectly pliant beneath him. “Tell me if it hurts,” he whispered into the small space between you while he snaked a hand between your bodies to guide his cock to your core. When the head slipped in without much resistance, both of you let out twin moans of pleasure. Painstakingly slowly Johnny pushed inside you, centimeter by centimeter until his hips were flush to yours. “Breathe, princess,” he reminded you because you indeed had held your breath and had buried your nails in his biceps. “Shit, you’re big,” you cursed. “So I’ve been told,” Johnny chuckled and peppered your face and neck with little kisses while he slowly ground his hips so you could get used to him inside you.

“Move,” you demanded after a while. “What’s the magic word baby?” He grinned. “Please, Johnny,” you whimpered, clenching down on him. “Once more.” “Don’t make me beg.” “But you sound so pretty when you do,” he chuckled, only barely moving his hips. “Johnny please,” you whined, trying your best to move on his cock on your own but the angle was just not working out. “Oh, you want to do the work?” “I want you to move,” you groaned, pawing at his chest.

“But I think you’d look so pretty riding my cock,” Johnny rasped and in one fluid movement, he had sat up and pulled you onto his lap. Shit, it felt like he was even deeper now. “Come on, princess.” Whining, you wound your arms around his shoulders and pulled your legs beneath you so you could lift your hips up to make his cock smoothly slide out, the friction just right before you slowly dropped back down again, earning you an appreciative groan from Johnny. “That’s right, baby,” he praised you as you slowly found a comfortable pace, swiveling your hips until the angle was just right. Tightening the grip you had on his shoulders to use it as leverage, you began riding him in earnest, impaling yourself on his cock over and over again until your head was spinning and your thighs started to burn. “Come on, doll,” Johnny grinned, catching one of your nipples between his lips. Whining, you rolled your hips faster until your thighs began shaking. “Need help?” He just grinned, his big hands holding onto your hips to help you move up and down his cock at a steadier pace. “Please Johnny,” you hiccupped, hiding your face in his neck to ground yourself, “Please fuck me.” “Am I not doing just that?” He chuckled, filthily grinding his cock inside you. “Do it right,” you panted into his skin, “Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Then get on your hands and knees for me, baby.” He didn’t have to tell you twice, it was almost comical how quickly you obeyed his command and arched your back for him. “Hmm, that’s it,” he praised you, tracing the curve of your spine with his hands until he reached the space between your shoulder blades where he gently pushed down to make you arch even further. “So good and pliant for me, just waiting to be filled.” “Please,” you just whined again, past the point of caring about how pathetic you sounded, begging for his cock. “Say it baby,” he demanded, slapping his cock against your wet folds. “Please fuck me Johnny. Please. I want your cock inside me so badly. Want you to fuck me until I can’t even remember my own name anymore. Please I need it. I-“ your frantic rambling got cut off by the surprised moan leaving your lips as he thrust into you without any warning. “Don’t hold back baby,” Johnny rasped before gripping your hips tightly to finally fuck you in earnest, the sound of skin slapping together loud in the otherwise silent room. “God, your ass looks amazing,” he moaned, burying himself in your tight heat over and over again, mesmerized by how his cock was glistening in the low light and how easily your body opened up for him, “You’re basically made to take my cock.” You could only mewl at his dirty words and fist the sheets tightly in your hands as you tried to meet his thrusts as best as you could while you felt like you got your soul fucked right out of you.

“Feels so good,” you slurred when you felt the familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap, clenching around Johnny’s cock. “God baby, if you keep clenching like that I’m gonna cum,” Johnny cursed, grabbing you by the neck to pull you up against his chest, the pace of his hips only getting faster. “Please Johnny. Want it inside,” you whined, letting him use your body how he wanted to relish in the low moans he let out. “You want me to fill you up baby?” “Want it so bad, Johnny,” you mewled. “Then cum for me. Cum on my cock and I’ll give you anything you want.” And oh god. You had never thought that the strained sound of a couple of words could be enough to actually trip you over the edge but the rasp in Johnny’s voice had you falling apart in his arms, your orgasm ripping through you so hard it had your thighs shaking. “Such a good girl,” Johnny praised you before he let out a low guttural moan and fucked into you once – then twice – before his hips came to a halt, emptying his cum inside the condom.

For a while you two just panted loudly before Johnny gently laid you back down onto the mattress, chuckling lowly when you whined at the loss of his cock. “Shit,” you giggled while he quickly got rid of the condom, throwing it in the general direction of your trashcan. So tender you could have missed it, Johnny pressed a row of kisses down your spine until he reached the swell of your ass. “Cuddle me,” you pouted, making grabby hands at him. “We’re sweaty, princess,” he laughed but gave in when you kept pouting. “I don’t care,” you whined, fitting your head beneath his, wrapping your arms and legs around his body to cling to him like a koala. “You’re cute,” he smiled, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“For how long did you know?” “Know what?” Johnny asked, clearly confused. “That I was your secret admirer.” “I didn’t.” “It was so obvious,” you groaned. “Okay maybe I got a hunch after we started that group project. But you never said anything.” “What was I supposed to say? Oh Johnny, by the way, I’m the one who has been writing you cringey love letters for like half a year already. Please go out with me?” That made Johnny laugh, the sound melodic in the quiet of your room. “I would have said yes, you know?” He spoke lowly, “I’ll miss your letters.” “What makes you think I will stop writing them?” “Because you can tell me all that stuff in person now when we go on dates.” “We’ll go on dates?” “That’s what people do when they like each other, princess,” Johnny chuckled, “And I really like you. Both as my secret admirer and my classmate.” “Oh my god stop,” you whined, hiding your hot face in his chest, feeling shy all of a sudden while Johnny was just laughing.

“I like you too,” you eventually mumbled once it had gotten quiet again. “I figured,” he teased you. “I changed my mind,” you immediately shot back, rising from where you were cuddled into his chest but every other protest died on your tongue when you saw his dreamy expression, his honey eyes finding yours and completely ignoring the fact that you were still very much naked. “Date me,” he said. “Okay,” you answered, easily meeting his lips in a sweet kiss that wouldn’t be the last one you two shared tonight.

“Hello and welcome back, that was Middle Of The Night by Monsta X, suggested to us by raibebe through our Twitter with the hashtag JonJaeLoveTalk. We’re your DJ’s John-D.” “And Jae-D on NCT Night Night. Hello again to all of our listeners. John-D.” “Yes Jae-D,” Johnny chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Something is off today. I looked through our mail and there was no letter from your secret admirer.” “Oh really,” he feigned surprise. “Either they didn’t send anything in or our director got sick of the pining.” “I can calm you right back down Jae-D,” Johnny smiled, “Because she simply doesn’t need to send any more letters. I finally found her.” “No way. For real? And you didn’t tell me? I have to find out through our radio show? Friendship is dead,” Jaehyun sighed dramatically and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Jae-D you know you’ll always be the number one in my heart, you know that.” At that Jaehyun let out fake gagging noises that made both friends chuckle.

“No but for real. I finally found her and asked her out. It’s going great so yeah,” Johnny shrugged, “In case you’re listening baby: I’m dropping by later and bring sushi.” “This is so domestic already,” Jaehyun sighed dramatically, “Where is my secret admirer?” “Maybe you could find love as well if you stopped acting like the textbook example of a frat boy.” “What is that even supposed to mean?”

Smiling, you leaned back on your sofa and listened to your boyfriend bickering with his best friend. Boyfriend. That sounded good even though it still felt unreal. Love Letters weren’t dead after all it seemed.

1K notes · View notes

maybege · 3 years ago

Text

Work Song

Summary: You meet once again.

Pairing: hot dad!Boba Fett x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4.2k

Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom/sub relationship, use of sex toys, dirty talk, consensual degradation and namecalling, multiple orgasms, double penetration, oral sex (m receiving), come play, sexting

When I was pondering which to post (bodyguard!Paz ord hot dad!Boba), I figured: why not both? So tonight I am serving you some delicious hot dad!Boba smut and tomorrow or Tuesday evening you will get the next part of The One! I am really excited to share this with you and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated and I hope you enjoy it!

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Work was boring.

Or rather, it wasn’t boring but your thoughts kept drifting to much more exciting prospects. Like the next meeting at the motel.

Boba had messaged you that he had gotten scheduled for the midnight calls almost all through the next month and had suggested you meet on Fridays instead. But since Fridays were your yoga course days, and the only real opportunity for you to go out and meet new people and potential friends, that was not an option either. And so, you had remained on Saturdays - even if it meant he wouldn’t get to stay the night.

Even over the phone, you could see the reluctance he had to agree to it. (“I’d prefer if I could buy you breakfast the way I buy you dinner,” had been his exact words to which you had only smiled.)

So now it was Thursday, almost the end of the week, and you could not wait to get back home, to get to the end of the week and into the motel and, most importantly, to Boba.

With a groan, you let your head onto your desk in your cubicle. All around you, you could hear the tapping of the keyboards, people talking, phones ringing, the alarm of the printer going off when there was – once again – not enough paper there. Even sitting at your desk among a sea of people you never felt so alone.

“What are you thinking?” Nat, chewing a piece of gum, popped up on the wall of your cubicle, resting her chin in her hands. You flinched in surprise, looking up at her cheerful face. “Dreaming of mystery man from the bar again?”

If only she knew.

You smiled, “I, uh, I was just checking over these numbers again, I think I might have to start from scratch and ask marketing for the raw numbers.”

Nat popped her gum, clearly disappointed that you did not seem to share any details. “Well, Marketing really needs to get their shit together,” she grumbled, “I had to ask them for the full numbers – twice! – last week. can you believe that? Twice!”

“Now that I have them in front of me, it’s not that hard to believe,” you grinned, leaning back in your chair and looking up at her, “But that is not why you came to talk is it?”

“Well,” she sighed dramatically, sending you a wink, “Since you don’t let me live through your love life – you want to come for drinks this Saturday? Me and the girls want to check out a new restaurant in town, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“I’d love to but I already have plans,” you declined, your heart skipping a beat at the thought of whom you had plans with, “Maybe next time?”

For a minute, you were afraid that maybe she would be suspicious. That maybe she would keep asking you about Boba and you would have to dodge your questions.

But thankfully, Nat seemed to have completely forgotten all about your love life.

“Sure!” she perked up, throwing a look towards the kitchen, “Wanna do lunch together? I’m starving.”

You nodded, smiling when you heard her basically skipping her way to the kitchen from her cubicle. Grabbing your phone, you went to follow her.

Nat kept talking about one thing or another, completely oblivious to the internal fight you were just hashing out in your head.

Never had your phone looked more menacing.

You did not know when or how exactly but somewhere in the two minutes it had taken to microwave your food, a tiny little thought had manifested itself in your mind.

Boba had asked for your wishes the last time and you had been too nervous to think about them. But surely, with the safety of a screen between you, you would be able to articulate at least some of them?

Then again, would he even want that? After all, it was not Saturday and maybe he did not want to have that kind of contact out of your agreed meeting hours?

You tapped your fingernails on the table top before deciding to just fuck it.

You: I want you to fuck my mouth.

There. It was sent. It was done. You had half a mind to switch your phone off and never look at it again, you felt that embarrassed. But before you could do so you saw how the read notification popped up and now it was like a car crash you couldn’t look away from. Boba had seen it. It was too late now. Shit, what had you done?

Boba: So princess has some dirty wishes after all.

Boba: Any more things you want to try out?

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head towards Nat who looked at you questioningly. “My friend just sent me something funny,” you waved off while making sure no one would be able to get a look on your phone screen.

Toys. you typed out, I’ve never got to try any and I want to try them all. Want you to use them on me.

Now I’m thinking about getting you a dildo, little one. Maybe even two. One for that tight little kissy and the other to train your mouth.

The implication made you clench your thighs and you took a deep breath, hoping no one would notice how you were almost squirming in your seat.

Lunch forgotten, your eyes were fixed on your phone as the three dots kept moving on the screen. You weren’t really sure if this counted as texting per se but you had never been this explicit with someone over texts and your heart skipped a beat as the next message appeared.

Boba: Does that turn you on?

You: Yes.

Boba: Where are you?

You: On my lunch break. Why?

Boba: Because if you’d been home I’m this close to take a half-day and fuck you silly in your own bed.

You shuddered, your thighs clenching.

I’m this close to going home sick if that’s what awaits me.

The read notification popped up but you saw how he wasn’t online anymore and frowned. You tried to avoid your thoughts of how maybe you had been too forward or too awkward or maybe he thought you were weird now for being willing to go home in the middle of the workday just to get in bed with him. But the truth was you were.

Work was boring today and while you appreciated Nat’s attempts to get talking, you didn’t really feel in the mood to talk. Besides, you knew she was just out to get more info about the bar mystery man as she called him and even though you liked her you really didn’t want to talk about Boba to anyone. So yeah, the thought of being able to go home and be able to feel Boba against you instead of going through the different numbers sounded like heaven to you.

Reluctantly, you got back to your pasta salad, aware that you only had a few minutes on your break left and trying to not spend them checking your phone constantly. How much more pathetic could you be?

“Ready?” Nat asked suddenly beside you as her friends got their dishes into the dishwasher and you nodded with a smile.

“Although when is one ever ready for work?” she asked, faking a British accent and you grinned, pocketing your phone in the pocket of your dress.

“Never,” you replied, “one can just hope it’ll be over soon.”

The dark-haired women turned to you with a conspiratory grin before twirling into her cubicle, leaving you alone to go back to your desk. You stood at the entrance of your cubicle for a moment, eyes roaming over the papers on your desk, ruined with your scribbling as you tried to decipher whatever numbers marketing had sent you.

You rubbed your hand over your face, forcing yourself to smile with the hopes that it would release endorphins or some shit. You could do this. There was no need to feel overwhelmed by this. What would be the first step to make this better?

Typing the email to Brenda from Marketing should not have been as hard as it was. But your mind was swirling with trying to find the right balance between polite and insistent because you could not afford to lose any more hours of work over something that simply could not be worked with.

Just as you were ready to give up, your phone pinged.

Boba: Sorry, business call. But believe me, little one, I can’t wait until this weekend. Would you be okay with me buying some toys for you?

You smiled, answer already ready.

“Shit, little one, you looked so good like that. You like that?”

You gasped for breath, eagerly nodding. A thin layer of sweat had built all over your body as you knelt on the end of the bed. You were so intoxicated by these feelings, by him, it felt like everything was on fire, getting ready to burst.

As soon as he had arrived – you being the first in the room this time around – he had framed your face in his hands and kissed you until you both been breathless. And then he had shown you the toys.

That was how you had ended up here, on the bed, completely naked, moving yourself on one of the dildos he had brought for you.

“Look at you, such a good girl for me, hm?” Boba murmured, his hands moving once again and you choked, tears stinging in your eyes from the effort of trying to relax your throat and keeping your hands behind your back as he had instructed.

Boba had not just brought one toy. He had brought two. And you while you were fucking yourself on one, thighs shaking with the effort, Boba had pushed the other down your mouth. “To train you to take me,” he had rumbled with a glint in his eyes.

A particularly hard thrust down your throat forced you lower on the shaft between your legs and you moaned, tears of pleasure and despair pricking your eyes. He was still completely closed, looking as dominant as ever and you could feel your clit and y our nipples aching wanting to be touched and played with.

You whined, drool slipping down your chin and Boba showed mercy, slowly pulling the toys away from your mouth. “What is it, little one?” he asked, “What’s got you all teary-eyed, hm ?”

“My – my nipples are so sensitive,” you pleaded with him, “Please, please touch them, Boba.”

He grinned darkly, running the tip of the dildo over your wet lips. “So, touch them.”

You shook your head as best as you could, wanting to remind him of the one rule he had set for you but then he pushed the toys back into your mouth. Your back arched as you leant forwards, humming when the dildo shifted inside you and even more so when your chest brushed against the rough material of his shirt.

It was like little pricks of pleasure coursed through you.

Boba looked down at you, the blue dildo still in his hand and you felt heat seep into your cheeks. From shame? Maybe. But all you felt arousal as you saw the admiration in hid ryes.

“How desperate you look,” he mused, his fingers holding your chin, “How pretty. Just for me.”

“Yes,” you gasped, mouth falling open as you sank down on the toys again, your nipples brushing over the harsh fabric, “J-just for you.”

“My pretty little fucktoy,” he smiled, leaning down and kissing you open-mouthed. You gasped into him, pleasure overtaking you and when his hand wandered down to your right nipple, pinching and pulling it sharply, you came. Everything in your body tightening before it felt like you were bursting at the seams, the sudden wave of pleasure making you whimper.

Where you had been so precariously balanced on top of the dildo, now you lost your balance, completely falling against him but Boba was there to catch you.

“Good girl,” he mumbled, his hand still squeezing your tit, “Think you have another round in you?”

Your eyes fell to the very obvious bulge in his pants and you nodded eagerly. Even with your legs still trembling from your orgasm, you were already carving more. More of this, more of him and the pleasure he could give you.

With calloused fingers gently wrapped around your forearm, he helped you up.

You followed willingly, letting him turn around until you were facing the bed, sheets messy where you had kneeled.

“I’m going to let you choose, little one,” he murmured into your ear, his warm body pressed against your back. You could hardly concentrate with your hands on your skin like that, one hand holding you by your throat while the other dipped between your folds. “Which toy do you want to fuck now?”

First, you were disappointed that apparently you did not get to fuck yourself on his cocks but then his finger swiped over your clit and you shuddered.

“Answer me, princess,” he growled, his hand slightly tightening on your throat, “Or are you too cockdumb already?”

“Nuh-uh,” you tried to shake your head just as much as your legs were shaking from the pleasure he was giving you. You tried to focus on the toys. The one you had used already and the one he had had you suck off. The blue one was glistening from your juices and your thighs clenched at the thought of having it inside you again.

But the other one, the purple one, was much thicker than the blue and you knew it was closer to what Boba’s cock actually felt like.

“The purple one,” you murmured, head leaning back against his shoulder and he mouthed at your neck, humming in satisfaction.

“You’re so kriffing sexy, you know that?” he whispered, planting a playful bite on your shoulders before leaving you alone in the middle of the room. You whined, pressing your thighs together as you saw him so meticulously prepare for what seemed to be the next scene he had had in mind.

With a soft towel spread on the floor in front of the armchair, Boba looked at you as he sat down, legs spread wide before planting the dildo on the towel. “I think good girls deserve a treat,” he murmured, working on his pants before getting his weeping cock out and you swore your knees were that close to giving out underneath you.

You gaped at him, practically falling on your knees with your hands placed on his thighs. The impact made a dull sound and your heart skipped a beat as he immediately leant forward, fingers gripping your chin as he searched your face for any sign of pain.

“I know you’re eager to suck my cock, little one,” he smirked, “But no need hurting yourself over it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, feeling a little embarrassed for how needy you were being.

Boba smirked, leaning back in his seat but not before running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. Your eyes flicked down to his weeping cock, your mouth watering at seeing how a drop of precome had already collected at the tip.

Without thinking any further, you sank down on the dildo, mouth falling open at how it stretched you. You ducked down, closing your lips around his shaft and taking him as deep as he would go in one smooth movement.

Boba groaned loudly above you, one hand going to the back of your neck to keep you there. Just like your pussy, he filled your throat completely, your tongue feeling as if it was running out of space so you did your best to press it against the underside of him, wriggling along the prominent vein he had there.

Tears gathered in your eyes again and you moaned as the toy inside you hit a spot the previous one couldn’t. Your hips stuttered, slowly starting to grin against it in hopes of it hitting that spot again. You did not move your mouth from him.

“Fuck you look good like that,” he praised you, his free hand coming around your throat and you tried to swallow when you felt his thumb rub over the bulge in your throat. You had not even realized how far you had taken him but when you saw the grin on his face, his eyes glazed over in pleasure, you felt proud of yourself for making him feel like this.

Slowly he pulled you off his length and you followed, gasping for breath when you could. A trail of saliva connected you still to him and through your lashes, you looked up at him. Even now he was a sight to behold, jaw clenched, a glint in his eyes.

You would do everything to please him.

“Don’t think I can last long, little one,” he grumbled, lips twitching as he spotted how you still moved your hips, “Think you can come before that? Don’t want to leave you hanging.”

You nodded, rising on your knees again just like before and sinking back down, moaning when it hit that sweet spot.

“Good,” he smiled, warping his hand around his cock, “You can touch yourself how much you. Just want you to come for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled, obediently opening your mouth to take him in again. Your fingers went to your clit, circling it to spread around the wetness that was already making its way to the towel. You gasped, hips jerking at the pleasure.

Boba groaned, rubbing the head of his cock along your tongue, precoma coating your taste buds. He pushed your head down again, quickly building up to a rhythm that had you choking and gagging, spit trailing down your chin, making you feel filthy and desired.

One hand came up to your chest, pinching your nipple and throwing you off the cliff. Your moan got interrupted by Boba shoving himself down your throat even more and you shook where you sat, your wetness coating the toy until all you could hear were obscene squelching sounds from between your thighs.

“Where did you want my come little one?”

“On my face, please,” you gasped.

A deep, guttural groan left him and you opened your mouth even wider, sticking your tongue out as your fingers played with your nipples. Hot roped of come splattered on your face, landing on your brows, your nose, your tongue, dripping down your chin and onto your chest. Boba continued pumping his shaft milking himself of every last drop and collecting it on his thumb before gently spreading it over your cheek.

“Did I do good?” you asked, heaving for breath.

“You were perfect,” he rumbled, scooping some of his come onto your tongue and you swallowed eagerly.

You shifted on your knees, wincing when the dildo moved inside you.

Boba leant down to you, his hand carefully holding you by the elbow as he stood up slowly, taking you with him. Your legs were shaking from the strain and your knees hurt from straightening them. You shivered.

A soft kiss was pressed to your lips and he led you back to the bed. The fabric was cool under your fingertips and you took a shaky breath. His warm hands were on your shoulders, thumbs brushing the skin as he looked down on you.

“Let me get you something to clean up, okay?” he murmured.

You nodded silently. He disappeared for a moment and you simply sat there, wringing your hands and trying to focus on your surroundings. Everything was fuzzy still, pleasantly warm from your orgasms but you also felt could now that it was over.

You heard the sink run in the bathroom and a moment later, Boba was in front of you again, a warm cloth in his hands that he gently ran over your face.

“Look up at me, little one,” he murmured and you did, closing your eyes as you tilted your face towards him. With gentle movements, he cleaned your face but you were too tired to smile. You felt drained but in a good way, like your limbs were too heavy from pleasure to really move and so you just let the feelings wash over you.

When he was finished, his hand came up to cup your cheek and you leaned into him.

Boba hummed, “Would you like to take a shower or a bath?”

“Bath, please,” you croaked, flinching as you heard how hoarse you sounded. Boba’s lips quirked up and he nodded. Slowly he guided you to the tiled bathroom, sitting you down on a towel at the edge of the tub before getting the water running.

You frowned, the rushing water almost too loud in your ears. Boba turned around, spotting you curling in on yourself and just like that he had you in his arms.

“It was a bit intense, wasn’t it?” he asked quietly, his lips brushing against your ears and you nodded, burying your head in the fabric of his flannel.

“I – I don’t know why I feel this way,” you whispered, “this … sensitive.”

“You’re coming down from a high, little one,” he explained, thumb brushing the back of your neck, “It’s normal to feel a little exposed. But I will make sure, you’re okay, okay? Anything you need, princes, you just tell me, yeah? Anything.”

“Okay,” you whispered, already feeling a bit better with him here.

You did not know for how long you stood there, but when the water shut off and Boba helped you in the tub you sighed in content. The water was just the perfect temperature and you sunk in with closed eyes, the only thing guiding you being Boba’s hands.

“I will get us some food, okay?” he asked quietly, sitting at the edge of the tub and holding your hand. You had never felt this cared for. “I will get us the same order as the last time, does that sound good?”

You nodded with a smile. He stood up but you held onto his hand, only letting go when the distance became too much. Stars, you were really fucked out good, weren’t you?

With your eyes closed in relaxation, you could only hear his low chuckle as he got ready to leave. The door to the room closed not long after. You soaked in the tub for what felt like an eternity. The water was warm and you were positively surprised by the scent of the motel shampoo. It certainly was not as bad as you thought it would be.

Slowly you felt yourself coming back to reality, feeling more energized and more awake and aware of your surroundings. Boba had not come back yet so when the water got a little too cold for your liking, you decided to get out anyway.

You got dressed in your nightgown you had taken with you – thankful that Boba had left it for you on the counter in a moment of foresight –, hurrying barefoot over the carpet into the bed.

Just as you turned on the TV, the lock of the door turned and a whistling Boba came in, arms laden full of brown paper bags.

“You got more than last time,” you stated, frowning as you saw him put down a second paper bag on the small TV desk.

“Well, I won’t be able to buy you breakfast tomorrow, now will I?” he replied, “Thought I could take care of that now and then you don’t have to worry about it tomorrow.”

“Oh really?” you asked, sitting up on your knees, not minding when the blanket fell down, so you could at least make an attempt to peer into the bag.

Boba chuckled, indulging you by handing you the mysterious food bag and immediately you took a peek. There, neatly arranged, was a croissant, a chocolate muffin and what looked like a little breakfast sandwich.

“I’d keep the sandwich in the fridge,” Boba commented from the other side of the room, already taking out the familiar smelling food containers. He did not seem to know how your heart swelled in your chest at the sweet gesture.

You knew he had wanted to be here for breakfast – he had literally told you so on the phone – but when it was clear that Saturday would remain your meeting day of choice, you thought he had just shrugged it off. Maybe it had just been a flirtatious remark?

But the fact that he had gone out of his way to somehow show you he had been serious about what he had said made butterflies appear in your stomach.

“It’s very sweet,” you murmured, looking at the way the muscles in his back moves as he fished for the plastic utensils, “You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” he replied easily, still smiling when he turned around and carried the food with him, “Now let me slip under that blanket, princess, what will we watch?”

You giggled, watching this giant man carefully position himself on the bed, before stretching out his arm, offering you the food to eat and his chest to rest against once again.

“I could get used to this,” you murmured, taking a bite of the pita.

“Me too, princess,” he rumbled, “Me too.”

#maybege writes #boba fett x reader #boba fett x fem!reader #smut

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seraphdarlimg · 4 years ago

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wish I were (pt2)

harry acts like everything is good and dandy but reader sees Heather wearing the sweater

part 1 here

‘heather’ by conan gray WARNINGS - ANGST WORD COUNT - 1,892

A/N: hehe because it was december 3rd, I just had to get this chapter done to post even if it might be a little late but here ya go

____________________________________________________________

My guitar rested on my thigh as i brought my head down to lay on the fret, staring at the blank piece of lined paper in front of me. I sighed, turning my head away and just bathed in the silence of the separate room from the main studio. The weight on my chest might of suggested the frustration out of my creative block, unable to produce words or lyrics for the past weeks. Or that I was progressively losing the will to even pick up an instrument, as strumming the strings took a lot of energy for me to do.

The oversized hoodie I brought kept me warm, but i knew that wasn't satisfying enough. However the idea of wearing one of his hoodies I've place in a closed box in the corner of my apartment hurt too much and that now I'm back in the studio after weeks of trying to avoid coming here at all costs. After the New Year's party, I've done nothing but wallow up in my apartment alone, trying to come up with songs as quickly as possible just so I could get this project done and over with. That proved to be difficult however, especially with Harry trying to call on a normal basis.

"Helllooo bubs, why haven't you been showing up at the studio eh?" "You said at the beginning of this project that I could work at home whenever I want. I'm just taking you up on that offer." "Of course, you'd remember me sayin' that. How've you been love, haven't seen you in a while though." "Fine, just been doing my job." "Well yeah, can't write all these lovely songs without your talent, can I? You gonna come in tomorrow then?"

I hesitated for a second, biting my tongue when I felt my eyes pool up again. "I'll just send a pdf of lyrics to you Harry." "O-oh. Well that would conventionally work... yes but you have to come in tomorrow though." "Why? Just text me what you like and don't like about the verses and I'll fix them." "Bubs you know how I feel about in person collaboration. Plus the deadlines are coming up and it'll be easier and faster to have you in the studio." "Okay." He hesitates this time and I could see his brows furrowed together as well as having a hand on his hip. Most likely wearing lose sweats and the knitted cardigan he's been falling in love with over the months. His hair a bit longer than it was last time I saw him and his pink lips quirked to the side in thought. Maybe the bags under his eyes are gone, has been looking more happier lately. More happier than I could of made him to be over the months. "Are you okay?" "I have to go Harry, I'll see you tomorrow." "Oh see yo-"

He was the first one to greet me when I arrived, and I wanted nothing more than to burst out sobbing when I see his smile. It took everything not to do so, giving him a tight lip smile and quick side hug before sitting down farthest away from him. For the first hour and a half of discussion, I didn't say much and zoned off a lot, tuning in and out of the conversation Harry leaded about a song he had written recently. I felt his glances on me when I turned away, probably sensing my unwillingness to comment so he was considerate enough to not put me under the spotlight in the discussion. In the middle of it, Harry's phone started ringing and he didn't waste a second to excuse himself to answer it. "Hello? Oh hey darling, you almost here?" I froze when he grows a cheesy smile on his face as he walks further to the other side of the studio before telling us to continue without him. I took a deep breathe, not mentally prepared to be in the same room as her. Has she always been coming to the studio or did I just choose to worse day to finally come in? I try to focus doodling in my little notebook, but it grew harder and harder to focus on anything else but the way he crosses his arms and laughs while on the phone with her. From the corner of my eye, it was definite he's completely captivated just hearing her voice and I could just picture the angelic tone of it. I didn't realize I was tapping my pencil till I hear Sarah calling out my name, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Are you okay, haven't seen you in a while." I nodded, putting on a smile. "Yeah sorry, been getting a lot of work opportunities and just a bunch of family stuff that's exhausted me." Sarah gives me a look that resembles one of a mother who knows their child isn't telling the full truth, but she nods and pats my hand. "Completely understandable. But that's exciting, new artists been reaching out to you n' all that?" "Ha surprisingly, considering saying yes to all of them." my smile was growing genuine a little, thinking about how content I was with my career. Being a lyricist and songwriter was a definite risky path to take in terms of stability, but it made me happier knowing I was able to to do. "Oh of course, you can totally do it. Probably wanted to see what all the hype was about when Harry couldn't stop talking about you at every social gathering he's been at." Sarah chuckles, rolling her eyes playfully. "Yeah?" I quickly looked down, feeling my eyes water as the pang in my chest came back. "Mhmm, acts like Thomas and Mitch don't even exist." I laugh lightly at that, fiddling with my fingers as I focused down on my notebook. I found myself in an awkward situation, not knowing how to continue the conversation but knowing I didn't want to try. I love Sarah, but I was close to break down right there if I tried and it was not the place to do so. Not when everyone is trying to meet deadlines and Harry was about to walk in with Heather at any moment. "Hey, I actually have a lot of emails to respond to so I'm gonna be in the other room." I stood up, taking a guitar and my notebook. "Might actually be better for me to focus in." "Sure, we'll let Harry know." I gave her a grateful smile, walking out into the hallway to a different room. I let out another shaky breath, feeling overwhelmed once I was finally alone. But before I could close the door, I hear her. I peak out to see both her and Harry standing at the entrance of the building, huddled close together. "Sorry I forget it gets this cold in LA sometimes." She says, looking up at him while he rubs the sleeves of his sweater that was wrapped perfectly around her. It was a simple orange stripped sweater. A vintage that Harry bought in Vienna and became one of his favorites. It was just a simple polyester sweater, but it became my favorite too. So it was hard to give it back after wearing it that night we kissed, but fuck was it harder to see her wearing it. Now as I sit alone with no sense of motivation to do anything else but wallow in my own pity I thought about a lot of things. I should be angry, be fuming and cursing at Harry for how he's been acting. I should confront him, make him feel as hurt as he made me for choosing her. Or maybe I should hate Heather, despise her for taking the chance I had with him. But deep down I know I couldn't hate Heather. She's such an angel, it wasn't her fault he's still hung up on her. And as much as the image of his arm wrapped around her kills me, I couldn't hate him either for the same reason. She looked prettier in his sweater than I did. "You okay in here bubs?" As if the tears welling up in my eyes and heavy weight on my chest wasn't enough, the sound of knuckles against the door and his voice calling out my name made me almost sob. "Yeah, I'm good. Door's open." I quickly try to compose myself when he enters the room, giving me that warming smile of his. "Just wanted to check up on ya, been quiet since you got here." Harry looks at me with concerning eyes as he places a hand on my shoulder before crossing his arms and leaning against the wall in front of me. Keep your hand on my shoulder, the second it was there all the nerves went away. I wanted to say but instead I fake a smile again, waving it off and shrugging. "Oh no, just have a lot on my plate don't worry." He nods, feeling his eyes on me while I try to avoid his by opening my laptop and skimming through my inbox. "Sarah told me about different singers reaching out to you." He points at my laptop before taking a seat on the chair to the side. I nodded, humming while I typed out quick responses. "Yup, thanks by the way but now I gotta sort out a whole schedule for this year." I took a glance up to see him focused on my song journal on the table in front of us.

“So...you and Heather huh?” The sheepish smile he has tugs my heart strings but I tried to keep from fumbling with my fingers.

“Yeah uhh...” He scratches the back of his neck, keeping his eyes on his hands and looking like a young kid with a crush. “Started talking again and catching up, been working out stuff between us since the party.”

I tilt my head to the side, motioning him to continue. “She’s gorgeous...”

“She’s amazing.”

I finally looked away from him and onto my screen, letting out a little chuckle.

“So you guys are back together?”

“No no, we’re just sort of figuring things out at the moment.�� Though it was an answer I was hoping for, the look in his face was none the less comforting.

“Well, hope everything goes great. You guys look perfect together.” I managed to say, going back to typing while he only responds with a nod and hum.

There was silence. Does he not feel it too? Uncomfortable silence was never a thing between us but it was prevalent here. "Not gonna leave early are you though?" He says out of no where and I stopped typing for a sec to give my attention to him. "Not going to ditch me for someone else of course." He says it with a laugh, playing it off like an obvious joke... but the way he looked at me. Part of me wanted to scream at how oblivious and selfish that statement sounded coming from him, as if he has no idea the drastic shift our relationship has taken. But I see the vulnerability in his eyes, sensing the subtext in his question that is practically asking me to stay. Stick by his side and help finish this passion project he's dedicated to put out, not only for his fans but for himself. Be with him to figure out what to do next, even if I would be in a different county or continent and working with someone else. Keep in touch throughout because I've become an important person in his life. Even if that person who used to fill that spot came back, he's still here and asking me to stay with him in a similar sense. It wasn't the kind of love I wanted, but never the less, it was still love from Harry. Did the smile I wear at that moment reach my eyes? When I placed my hand on top of his in reassurance, was the hesitance obvious? Maybe he did notice the little signs, but he took my hand in his anyways and placed it against his heart.

"Of course, 'm always gonna here Harry."

____________________________________________________________

part 3

A/N: guys my heart hurts writing this lol. There’s gonna be one or two more parts of this series, but thank you for reading! feedback is appreciated :)

#Harry Styles #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #one direction #harry styles blurb #heather

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mymelodyheart · 4 years ago

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Miles Between Us Chapter 1 ~Stories She Wrote~

PICTURE SOURCE

PART 2 OF WONDERWALL SERIES

Hey guys, I'm back and thrilled to give you part 2 of WONDERWALL series, Miles Between Us. It is a continuation from my holiday ficlet, All I Want For Christmas Is You. If you haven't read the first part, I suggest you do if you wish to get an insight into Jamie and Claire’s history (Here is the link) Otherwise, this ficlet can also be read as a stand-alone.

I know All I Want For Christmas Is You ending was bittersweet, but it had to be done. Otherwise, there wouldn't have been a Part 2 in this series. I had to leave the story open to possibilities if it is to have a chance of growing. And besides, making this into a series allows me to take breaks from writing and refresh my brain in-between ficlets. So I hope this next part of the story will make up for leaving you hanging all these weeks.

Anyway, before you continue, I'd like to thank you for reading, commenting and giving feedback to my stories. They're all very appreciated even if I sometimes don't comment back. As a hobby writer, I always look forward to your response, and they spur me to continue writing. Without the readers, I wouldn't be here. So thank you for being part of my writing journey.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

So now everything is said, without further ado, I wish you all happy reading. ❤️

Previously ...

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp and James Fraser met and fell in love during the Holiday Seasons. Unfortunately for their budding relationship, after two weeks of a whirlwind romance, Claire has to return to London to finish some work commitment that could take a year to fulfil. It doesn't help matters that Jamie's PTSD condition prevents him from visiting her as loud city noises can trigger panic attacks. They are both in love with each other and are willing to find out where their relationship will head to. But can they find a compromise to bridge the gap of hundreds of miles to give their love a chance?

After sitting on her bed most of Saturday working on her laptop, Claire Beauchamp rolled her neck and stretched her back, her arms extending above her head. She flinched when her joints cracked.

Over the past few days, her boss, John Grey, forwarded manuscripts and drafts from the author she was working with. She hadn't eaten anything all day, and her stomach was beginning to grumble, and her eyes blurry from reading.

She'd read so much in the past hours, she was practically cross-eyed, and the bridge of her nose hurt where her specs rested. Words upon words had sifted through her brain, but now the lines were beginning to blur together.

She glanced back down on her laptop and opened a file in her document folder, her eyes scanning through lines she knew by heart. She'd been going through her own work lately wondering if she had what it takes to be a writer. Someone who would give her an honest opinion ought to read it before contemplating getting herself a literary agent if she was to start a new chapter of her life and take that leap of faith in her dream career.

A sudden urgency took over, and she needed Annalise to read her work, like right now. Which reminded Claire, her friend was away with Willie, shopping and sight-seeing. He was staying over their place for the weekend for the first time since she and Annalise left Lallybroch. After declining their invitation to join them earlier, the loved-up couple left her to her work with the promise of dinner when they returned.

She was about to reach out for her cold coffee from the bedside table when Raiders of the Lost Ark's theme song blared from her phone. At the same time, a picture of her uncle Lamb appeared on the screen. He was wearing a high-crowned, wide-brimmed, weather-beaten fedora hat and had a lopsided grin plastered to his thickly stubbled face. Rugged, she thought, just like her favourite pair of distressed leather boots, and very Indiana Jones.

Smiling, she tapped the answer button and put the phone on speaker. "Uncle Lamb! Long time no speak!"

"Sweetheart," he started in a deep familiar voice, "how are you?"

She frowned and pushed her laptop aside. Something was off. "Oh you know, same old ...just finishing work and ..."

"On a Saturday?" he asked, cutting her off.

"Look who's talking."

He chuckled. "You're young. You should be out. There are so many things to do in London ...especially on a Saturday. "

Claire rolled her eyes but opted to change the subject instead. She wasn't ready to give her reason for working overtime nor share her future plans nor talk about the handsome Scot she met during her holidays. Not just yet, anyway. "So ...to what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your voice, dear uncle?"

"What?" he said gruffly, pretending to sound offended. "Can't I call my favourite girl in the world and check up on her?"

She mentally sighed. Something must be up since her uncle never called. It was always she who usually phoned, and when he did call on a rare occasion, it was either because something had happened or he was in London. She dismissed the latter since she knew he was in Papua New Guinea. The next conclusion she landed on was his health but thought it absurd. Her uncle was strong as an ox, ate healthily, only smoked the occasional cigar and regularly went for doctor's check-up, a requirement in his job as an archaeologist travelling to remote places.

Unless. "You sound suspiciously chipper. Let me guess ...you met someone. There's a woman in your life."

He coughed like he was choking on a drink. "No! Why would you say that?"

Alright, he sounded repulsed by the idea enough. Or was that denial? "I don't know. You seem so ...how shall I say it ...unlike yourself. You normally skip the niceties and get to the point."

He lets out an impatient breath. "Claire, darling, am I really that awful?"

"No," she replied, ignoring the ache in her throat. She missed their time together but tried not to make it apparent in her tone. He was a busy man, and the last thing she wanted was her uncle worrying. "You don't seem like you're rushing off to anywhere. It's rare you sound this relax."

"It's way past my bedtime already," he sighed. "And besides, work is on stand-by at the moment until we get the license to start digging on site. People here are so damn laid back, and nobody seems to be in a hurry to process the paperwork. I'm not about to hand out cash to speed things along even if bribery is rampant here."

"I see. So you're in Port Moresby then?"

"Yes. As soon as we have the license sorted out, we'll be flying to Lae first thing tomorrow. Hopefully, anyway." He cleared his throat. "Speaking of paperwork, I received an email from my lawyer. Your trust fund has matured, dear. I'll send you the details where to go to and who to contact, and maybe you can start planning your life. Perhaps take a sabbatical and travel with me if you wish."

Ah yes, the trust fund.

After her parents died, everything they had owned was put into her trust fund by her uncle to secure her future. She'd already received a small lump sum when she turned eighteen, and the money had afforded her, though small and cramped, a decent rental two-bedroom apartment in London with high windows, which was premium in this expensive city. And Annalise, her best friend and roommate made enough money to help pay the ridiculous expensive utility bills. Her own wage just about covered the other expenses with almost nought left for savings, but she hadn't worried knowing there was money in place in her name. She was counting on it to support herself when she pursued her dreams of writing.

"About that, I think I'll let that sit in the bank for a while. It's not like I need the money right now, nor do I have the time to spend it."

"As you wish," her uncle replied. "And another thing I need to discuss with you ...South Lodge ..."

"What about South Lodge?" South Lodge should have been her family home if her parents hadn't died, and she knew it was a highly coveted property because of its historical significance. It was never put into the market for sale since her uncle thought it wasn't his place to decide. It was put on a twenty-year lease to a high profile politician, its payments going towards her trust fund.

"The lease is up, and the occupants will be moving out soon. Unfortunately for you, that information made it to the local news and you were mentioned as the legatee. So don't be surprised if you're bombarded with offers now that your name is out. I'm willing to bet, property investors and developers will be itching to get their hands on it."

Claire took off her specs and pinched the bridge of her nose. God, she hated adulting, paperwork and dealings with lawyers. Maybe she should just sell South Lodge and be done with it, so she could concentrate on her future plans. What do I need a five-bedroom house with one acre of garden in Oxford for? "I'll think about it, uncle. I just have a lot of things going on at the moment. I'm quite sure those things can wait."

"Of course dear."

"Thank you for letting me know." She thought of Jamie, and the Highlands and how much life was a lot simpler there. She really needed to double her effort to tie up loose ends in London and have a heart to heart talk with Annalise. Is her relationship with Willie serious? If not, her friend would have to eventually find a new roommate. After quickly glancing at her bedside clock, she realised they would be here soon and hopefully with a takeaway. Annalise did mention something about sorting dinner out tonight.

"And Claire?"

"Yes?"

"Your upbringing hasn't been the most ideal. Enjoy the money and treat yourself. Don't spend your life doing things that don't bring you joy."

She smiled. Her uncle must have had a rude awakening of some sort to sound so philosophical. Or probably, he did meet someone special. Either way, she wasn't going to push for any answers for now. She really needed to get out of bed, do a few stretches and have a shower before Annalise, and Willie arrived. "I'll try," she finally said.

"Good. I'll let you get back to whatever you're doing."

"Sadly, yes." She shut her laptop and got out of bed. "Take care of yourself, alright? And I'll phone you sometime next week after I've figured out our time differences."

"Absolutely, sweetheart. Talk soon."

"Love you, uncle Lamb."

"Love you, too."

She terminated the call with a swipe on her screen and rubbed her eyes. She'd been working for seven hours straight, and her eyeballs felt like they're made of sandpaper. Glancing at the corner table, she smiled when she saw Jamie's gifts. Willie had brought them with him when he arrived last night from Inverness. She knew Jamie was making up for his absence, but it couldn't be helped when there's the danger of his PTSD condition worsening in the city. To her delight and surprise, he'd sent her a leather-bound journal, a framed selfie photo of them together, driftwood bookends he made and a box of her favourite Lindt chocolate.

With a contented sigh, she made a mental note to call Jamie after dinner. And to ask her boss first thing Monday morning if she could take her work to Scotland the following weekend to surprise her boyfriend. After all, she was just taking her uncle's advice, and after the work, she'd put in the last couple of weeks, and the extra hours she planned to do the next few days, she deserved a little joy in her life.

..........

Claire leaned forward, and nervously examined her best friend's face. Annalise was hunched down, scrolling her laptop, tongue darting out as she read the paragraphs on the screen.

What's that look for? Doesn't she like it? She couldn't tell. It was the first time she's showing her work to anyone, one of the stories she had written during her spare time before embarking a career as an editorial assistant for Dreamcatcher Publishing Company. She needed to hear her friend's opinion to know if she even had a small chance of becoming a writer.

Annalise took her sweet time, and Claire wasn't sure if her inscrutable expression was a deliberate act to prolong the suspense, or if she genuinely had no reaction to what she's reading. If it was the latter, Claire would definitely kiss her dream of being a writer goodbye. If it's the former, she's going to strangle her friend for making her suffer.

She heard the door to the apartment open and close, followed by the sound of keys jangling and heavy footfalls, announcing the arrival of Willie. He'd stopped by to order some food at a local Indian takeaway while Annalise headed straight home to prepare the table for dinner. Instead of calling out to him, she held her breath for Annalise's response.

Just when Claire was starting to accept her hope of being a writer would never amount to anything other than a pipe dream, she saw the reaction she impatiently waited for. Annalise's mouth formed a comical O, followed by her eyes' widening and random shallow sighs.

Yessssssss!

This was massive. Despite Annalise having seen works from established authors Claire had edited for, she'd never witnessed her friend looked this excited. Annalise simply couldn't hide her gobsmacked expression, even if she tried.

"Oh, dear Lord," she whispered, her gaze flicking to Claire and then back to the screen. "Why didn't you tell me you had this? I knew you wanted to be a writer, but this ..."

"So?"

Annalise took a massive deep breath, her fingers almost shaking. "Oh my God, Claire."

"Oh my God, wot? Oh my God good or oh my God, bad?" Claire asked, even though she already knew deep in her bones, what the answer was. But she desperately needed to hear the words.

"This is bloody good," she said, as she went back to a previous page, and reread it all over again. After a couple of minutes more, a slow smile started to spread across her face, as she stole a few cheeky glances over at Claire.

Claire knew she could rely on her friend to tell her the truth. If her work had been bad, friend or not, Annalise would have been forthright and told her the hard facts. Nevertheless, she tamped down her own growing excitement. "The question is though ...is it good enough for the mass?"

Without hesitation, Annalise nodded vigorously, her blue eyes big as saucers. "Oh, Claire, are you kidding me? You really have no idea, have you? Of course, it is! I need to read the rest. Please tell me it's finished."

Claire relaxed for the first time and slumped back against the headboard of her bed, relief soothing her wild heartbeat. "It's finished."

Annalise let out a whoop as she gripped the laptop tightly. "Oh my God! Give me everything ...I won't be able to sleep tonight if I don't read at least one more chapter of this story."

"I've got ten more finished materials."

"Oh my God, oh my God! You're killing me. I want it all."

Willie poked his head by the frame of the doorway to her bedroom and eyed them suspiciously. She wasn't sure what he expected to find, but his eyes narrowed when he saw Annalise's flushed face.

"What are ye both up to?" he asked, frowning. "Ye sound like ye're looking at porn on the internet."

Annalise grinned and motioned him over. "Sort of."

Willie hesitantly entered the room. "Sorry?"

"In actual fact, much better than porn ..." Annalise announced, smirking at Claire.

"Annalise!" Claire wheezed when it dawned on her, her friend must have been reading the sex scene part.

Annalise reached out and reassuringly squeezed Claire's hand whilst looking at Willie. "Take a look at this. Claire wrote it."

Annalise handed the laptop to Willie, and both of them earnestly watched his face to gauge his reaction. As he sat down on the edge of the bed and read, Claire knew he would be the real test. Willie being a bloke, she didn't expect him to have the same reaction as Annalise, but she hoped he would appreciate the storyline and plot. Claire already understood, if her story was going to be good enough to be published, its success would be based on women's purchasing power. If he liked her style of writing even a smidgen, then she would be laughing.

Claire held her breath in anxious anticipation, and approximately a minute and a half later, she got her response.

His eyes bulged out, and then the tips of his ears glowed with red. In all sort of ways, he was so similar to Jamie but yet so different. But there's no mistaking how vibrantly their ears always lit up when they're embarrassed. Or moved.

"Kind of explicit," he commented hoarsely, before tucking a tongue into his cheek as if trying to find the right words to say. "But it is an intriguing story with great flow and interesting characters. It's no' the genre I would typically read, but the first few paragraphs of what I've seen so far are riveting. It makes me want to read more."

Annalise, enthusiastically nodded in agreement and waved a hand in the air. "There it is."

"Ye have a gift, Claire," Willie added, eyes still fixed on the screen and working overtime as his focus became more intense. "The dose of mystery ye've woven into the lines is remarkable and intelligent."

She felt herself beaming in vindication. "Thank you."

He briefly glanced up at her. "Now that I remember, Jamie did vaguely mention ye wanted to be a writer."

"That's the plan," she beamed.

"Good. Because if ye can produce something like this, then yer talent is wasted on editing other people's work."

"She's got ten more finished stories," Annalise piped in.

Willie arched an eyebrow at Claire and continued reading, and when he finished, he shook his head and let out a low whistle. "Is Jamie the inspiration for this story?"

Her face heated. "I ...ah ...wrote that years ago. And ...um, I've revised and edited it a million times in the past. I wanted Annalise to read it first and find out if it's good enough to be published."

Annalise grinned at Willie, still looking a little flush like she was having a physical reaction to the few lines she'd read earlier. "So what do you think?"

Willie didn't miss Annalise's excited reaction to the story. "It's verra good but I didnae realised graphic scenes affected ye so much. Ye're beet red!"

"Only when it's very well written," Annalise smirked, taking the laptop from his hands and moving towards him to sit on his lap.

Willie pulled Annalise closer and kissed her, and Claire sighed. It's both beautiful and terrible being in the presence of people, so in love. While she's ecstatic to see her best friend smitten and happy, it made her sad that Jamie couldn't be here with her. She missed him terribly, and it's only been a fortnight since she had last seen him.

After a few seconds of watching them unashamedly snogged in front of her, Claire clapped her hands, and they both immediately pulled away. "Right, that's enough you two. So, where's the dinner I was promised?"

Suddenly looking self-conscious, Willie promptly lifted Annalise from his lap, plonked her down onto the bed and jumped up, and Claire couldn't help but grin at him.

"Right on it," he muttered, before disappearing from her bedroom.

Annalise laughed and playfully shoved her shoulder. "Passion killer."

Claire ignored the jest. "So you really think I should publish my story?"

Her friend nodded excitedly. "Absolutely! You should have let me read it sooner. From what I've seen so far, you have good, solid material, and I'm convinced, when I read the rest, it will not disappoint." She stood up and smiled. "Come on, in as much as I'm all fired up after reading your story, I'm famished." She got up and left the room.

Instead of moving from her position, Claire stared at her work for a few seconds and just breathed. Although Willie and Annalise were sincere with their praises, she couldn't help but still feel nervous. This next step in her life could either turn out to be huge, or it could get her mocked out of a dream career she loved.

Pushing aside her doubts and thinking of Jamie, she quickly compressed a copy of her story's file and sent it to him via email to read, hoping he would like her written work too. Who knew, maybe, after reading it, he would be as fired up as Willie and Annalise.

After hearing the whoosh of the email sent, Claire launched herself off the bed to join her friends, looking forward to Jamie's reaction later and daydreaming of a future in Scotland with her love.

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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acklesforlife · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday Danneel Ackles!

It’s Danneel Ackles’ birthday, so we thought for our continuing celebration of Supernatural Spring Break week, this was a good time to both wish her a happy birthday and share the rather amusing story of one of our first times meeting her.

There have been a few memorable times since, including the party celebrating ‘Supernatural Day’ in Austin with Mayor Adler, which was just plain fun and an opportunity for some real conversation.

And I’ll be forever touched that Danneel wanted a copy of Family Don’t End With Blood (and how incredulous she was that Jensen actually had a chapter in it!) and that she has read our other books too.

The actual first time we met Danneel was a long time ago – at the after party following the premiere of indie movie Ten Inch Hero, which was at a club in LA back in, I think 2008. We all left the premiere and walked over to the club, invited by director David Mackay – the cast and the audience all together.

We had a lovely little chat with Danneel there about the film, met screenwriter Betsy Morris who’s still a friend today, and asked actor Matt Barr (now of Walker) to watch the rest room door while I in desperation used the men’s room because there was a huge line at the women’s. (He was lovely about it and it makes me laugh now every time I see him as Hoyt).

It was a momentous party, what can I say? After that, my co-author Kathy and I interviewed David over a three hour brunch in Vancouver for the first book we were working on, and mentioned that we’d love to chat with Danneel too. To be honest, we didn’t really think that would happen. But a few months later, while we were in LA for the Supernatural convention, we got a call from David.

I’ll let some excerpts from our second book, Fangasm! Supernatural Fangirls, take it from here…

… he let us know that Danneel Harris had actually agreed to an interview too. This prompted some hyperventilating and a rush of euphoria that left us grinning like fools. Jensen Ackles’s girlfriend was going to meet with us? Really? David had given Lynn’s cell phone number to Danneel so that she could call us tomorrow, the same day the boys came back to town. SWEET.

Given the pattern of the weekend so far—great things happening and then going horribly wrong—we should have known what was coming.

[On the Sunday of the convention, while everyone was in a fever pitch of excitement over Jared and Jensen being there] Lynn was obsessively checking her phone. “Noooo!!” she gasped. It was the plaintive moan of a beast in distress.

Kathy assumed that Lynn was passing a gallstone from the sound of it.

“No reception!” Lynn said, wide-eyed.

For Kathy, who hates phones (really, what doesn’t Kathy hate?) this didn’t seem like a big deal. The world really is too connected anyway. An hour out of cell phone reception seemed like a welcome respite, an opportunity just to enjoy the moment.

Lynn wasn’t as philosophical. “What if Danneel calls?”

Kathy honestly didn’t hold out much hope that this would actually happen—a yellow on the threat scale at most—so she wasn’t concerned.

Lynn was taking up her slack by flailing around, banging buttons on her phone as if somehow this would jolt it into action. “How can there be no cell phone reception in LA??”

Lynn had a point. We’re reasonably certain that there is cell phone reception in the Arctic Circle, but there was not a bar to be had in a hotel in LA. LA!! The town where everyone’s people are calling everyone else’s people, where iPhones are accessorized to coordinate with the day’s outfits, where a missed call can ruin a career. Jared and Jensen distracted Lynn for the duration of their time onstage, but as soon as it was over Lynn made a bee line for Jared’s girlfriend, Sandy (the woman sitting in front, wearing a hoodie so no one would recognize her—except Lynn apparently). Lynn wildly explained our dilemma to the stunned and probably scared actress. It was a good thing the Men With No Necks (MWNN) were only being paid to guard “the boys” or Lynn would have been face down on the carpet.

While Lynn was doing this, Kathy was pretending that she did not know Lynn.

Sandy was sympathetic, but didn’t know if she’d even see Danneel. Lynn thanked her for the sympathy and moved on to the next person who might be able to help. She attempted to enlist convention photographer Lizz, to no avail, and finally Creation owner Adam.

“I’ll try Lynn,” he said, sounding slightly exasperated. “But I’m kinda running an entire convention here.”

Thwarted again, Lynn pulled out all the stops. During her Jensen photo op, she stopped everything to explain the situation to Jensen himself.

“Hi, Jensen,” Lynn said, hoping that her voice wasn’t sounding too shaky. “We have an interview set up with Danneel today for the book we’re writing on fandom, and she’s supposed to call us, but I don’t have any reception on my phone, so I’m afraid she won’t be able to.”

The photo-op process screeched to a halt, and the room fell silent. Photo ops, you see, are not a place for conversation. They are highly valued by fans, who pay top dollar for the privilege of standing next to a celebrity, and they are relentlessly organized. The entire experience lasts about twenty seconds, and during that time you’re expected to say hello to the celebrity, smile, perhaps get an arm around your back or lean into said celebrity’s very firm bicep, and then move the hell out of the way and let the next person crowd in for the next picture. The photo ops allow no room for deviation. So when deviation happens, no one is very happy. The photographer wasn’t happy. The other fans weren’t happy. And the MWNN looked ready to move into swift and potentially lethal action.

Not that any of this stopped Lynn. “Can you put us in touch with her?” she continued, oblivious to the threatening stares all around her.

“Oh right, the interview,” Jensen said.

Lynn just nodded, though inside she was stuck on “OMG Jensen knows about our interview and our book, ohmygodohmygod.”

“Maybe she can email you,” Jensen continued. Then the conversation abruptly ended as Lynn was grabbed unceremoniously by the back of the neck and “escorted” from the photo-op room. Uh oh. She hadn’t experienced that feeling since being a two-year-old caught trying to get away with her baby brother’s coveted teddy bear. Lynn was most definitely in trouble—and even worse, she’d made no progress in getting in touch with Danneel, who didn’t even have our email address!

Lynn, ever the intrepid researcher, was not deterred. She thanked the Man with No Neck for his assistance and got right back in line for her next photo op, the “sandwich” photo (as in sandwiched between Jared and Jensen, which is vaguely dirty and thus very popular). As Lynn walked up, Jensen immediately tried to continue their conversation.

“So do you want to . . .” he began, while Jared looked confused. After all, the celebrities know the no talking rule as well as the fans.

Lynn held up a hand defensively. “Shh, I’m not talking to you. I totally got in trouble for it before,” she added, as the MWNN hovered threateningly.

Jensen laughed. “I got in trouble too,” he protested.

We doubt the MWNN were involved.

“Can Danneel get us her email?” Lynn managed as she was once again “encouraged” to leave the room as quickly as possible.

There was no time for an answer. Damn. Thwarted again. We were disappointed, but Lynn was relieved that she wasn’t escorted out of the entire con (the specter of the Flying Fangirl from Asylum still looms large at these events after all). We were still feeling like an interview with Danneel had been too good to be true anyway, so we tried to swallow our sadness and settled in to watch some of the other guests. Midway through the next panel, Lizz the photographer came out into the audience and passed us a note—from Danneel. It just said, “Send me an email, love danneel” and included her email address. Being a bit clueless about the popularity of smartphones in 2008, we figured this meant that she wanted us to get in touch with her later for an email interview. We were disappointed that we wouldn’t get to talk to her in person but incredibly excited that she’d given us her email address. We wandered back outside after the panel and tried not to be too miserable about the Danneel interview not happening that day. We were hanging out in the hallway chatting when photographer Lizz suddenly appeared and yanked us away in the middle of a sentence with an exasperated, “Come with me!” She led us down a small side hall.

We still weren’t entirely sure what was going on. Were we in trouble again? Had the MWNN decided to kick us out after all? Moments later, Danneel emerged from the side door, introducing herself with a smile. Somehow we managed to compose ourselves and smile back. Apparently Jensen had facilitated the interview after all! Danneel suggested that we all grab some coffee, so we headed upstairs to the hotel’s Starbucks, where Danneel insisted on treating.

Coffee in hand, we went back downstairs to start the interview. Danneel suggested that we go backstage to talk, and then came a weirdly symbolic moment. The very same Man with No Neck who had tossed Lynn unceremoniously out of the photo op for daring to speak to the talent now held back the curtain to the backstage area, solicitously helped Danneel and us step over the various wires and cables snaking across the floor, then closed the curtain behind us to seal our crossover. The irony wasn’t lost on us.

Kathy whipped out her trusty voice recorder just as she had done for every other interview we’ve conducted, turned it on, and . . . nothing. We were interviewing Jensen Ackles’s girlfriend and there was NOTHING. It wasn’t the batteries, which had been checked and rechecked. Kathy tried to maintain some semblance of professionalism. She would quietly figure out what was wrong and then she would just as quietly fix it. Deep breaths. Okay, the recorder was FULL. Not to worry. She excused herself, leaving a confused Lynn to entertain Danneel.

First the cell phone, now the voice recorder. Sunday turned out to be the day technology failed us. This, for Lynn, is an everyday occurrence. For Kathy not so much. She loves technology. She embraced the Internet years before it got pretty, she used a “portable” PC to write her doctoral dissertation (portability is of course a relative designation—relative to muscle mass and stamina), and she gets gleeful over the prospect of using every new toy her university has to offer. So yes, technology was her friend. Until it wasn’t.

While Kathy dashed upstairs to grab her laptop (wishing that she could grab a shot of tequila), Lynn attempted to keep up a conversation with Danneel without actually asking any of our carefully prepared interview questions. Without a recorder, there was no way she’d remember a damn thing that was said—so that left small talk as the only option. Luckily, Danneel and Lynn connected over their mutual love of writing, swapped college stories, and then Lynn (as always) managed to talk about her children. Danneel proved herself a great listener. Minutes went by—lots of them—and Lynn realized to her horror that Jensen and Jared were almost done with their autographs. After that, it was off to the airport—and we would lose our interviewee to her boyfriend as she left with Ackles. Where was Kathy???

Finally, shortly before Lynn had moved on to telling Danneel about her daughter’s first steps, Kathy returned and hurriedly tried to download everything onto the laptop while time quickly ran out. Come on!! All Kathy could focus on was how long it was taking for everything to download. That and the rising nausea that threatened to overtake her. Lynn, in desperation, started asking the interview questions (which, since they weren’t recorded, are lost to posterity—and to this book).

Suddenly Jared Padalecki walked by, meaning that autographs were over and people were getting ready to leave. We despaired of a recorded interview, heartbroken over the squandered opportunity. And then, quite unexpectedly, Jensen Ackles was standing there, smiling and saying hello. Even more improbably, he held a fluffy white dog in his arms. For a moment, Kathy was sure this was all part of the nightmare, because fandom at the time had no clue that Jensen even owned a dog. Icarus, however, was quite real—and quite fluffy. Icarus was almost as excited to see Jensen as we were—he’d apparently been whining backstage every time he heard his owner’s voice during the Q&A. We hugged Icarus while Jensen hugged Danneel and tried to talk her into riding with him to the airport. All Kathy heard in those words were that it was too late—she’d blown it.

Danneel, however, had other ideas. She blew Jensen off. No wait. This part can’t really be happening either. More of that dream? Kathy was contemplating poking herself with a sharp object, sticking her finger in a wall socket, anything to jar herself back into reality. This was surely just her own anxiety-ridden psyche toying with her. Must be. Who says goodbye to Jensen Ackles so that she can talk to US?? But Danneel really was excusing herself to say good-bye to Jensen, Icarus happily following, with assurances to us that she’d be right back to finish the interview. Kathy gathered together the few shreds of sanity she still had, sorted the problem, and figured out how to record directly onto the laptop.

Danneel returned, true to her word, and the interview finally began. We relocated to the “green room,” the cloistered room where the guests are confined between stage appearances. The green room, as we were well aware, is a private space—more or less a “No Fans Allowed” clubhouse for the celebrities. We immediately felt like imposters, occupying a space where we clearly shouldn’t be. The room offered a small banquet of food, a bit of which we gratefully sampled, and a table stacked full of fans’ gifts for “the boys.” The coolest of these was a hairdryer that looked exactly like Dean Winchester’s favorite gun—and yes, it actually worked!

Danneel, of course, was quite comfortable in the green room and turned out to be very good at making us comfortable as well. Lynn asked questions. Danneel answered. Kathy breathed. Everything was going to work out just fine. Somewhere the unicorns of fandom were neighing happily.

And then the laptop went dead.

Kathy again tried to be unobtrusive as she flailed around trying to find an outlet. No point in making a bigger fool of herself, right? Sooner or later, though, it became apparent that she was in need of assistance and everyone, including Danneel, was up and scouting for an outlet, crawling under tables and moving furniture to do so. Danneel, we decided, had the patience of a saint. She never lost her sense of humor either, shrugging off our apology for keeping her from accompanying Jensen to the airport by wryly noting that “Jared would have been in the limo anyway, it’s not like we could have made out on the way to the airport” and jumping up to knock on wood when we asked her about the possibility of marriage.

In the midst of all the sitcom mishaps we did manage to carry on an interview…

You can read the rest of our misadventures (and the interview itself) with Danneel in the book, but Kathy and I left that day with a respect and affection for Danneel that has never faded.

Jensen posted a photo of her plunging a clogged toilet today for her birthday, and I laughed because it makes it clear that she’s still as genuine as she was that day she got down on the floor and crawled around looking for an outlet right along with us.

I’ve had the opportunity to chat with Danneel several times since our hilarious interview, and I think most people who have run into her at the brewery would say this too – she’s not afraid to be real.

I’m so glad Danneel was able to be part of Supernatural as a cast member before it ended, but really she’s always been part of the SPN Family. Happy birthday, Danneel – thanks for keeping it real!

–Lynn

Source: [x]

#THIS IS SUCH A SWEET STORY 🥺#danneel ackles #jensen ackles #the ackles #Fangasm #danneel:with fans #real life angel #ackles:stories #ackles:encounters #sandra mccoy #danneel:with jared #j2:cons #ackles:cons #ackles:with fans #jensen:with fans #j2:with fans #cute lil dork #danneel:cons

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lancermylove · 4 years ago

Text

Sleep? What’s That? (HC)

Fandom: MLQC

Pairing: Victor x Reader, Gavin x Reader, Kiro x Reader, Lucien x Reader,

Warning: Gavin’s hc gets a little suggestive.

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Hello!! Can I request an MLQC headcannon with an MC whose like “haha, sleep? Never heard of it” because she’s working at the company, and helping out other people? Maybe fluff? Haha- I think it’s quite fitting because of your name- be as creative as you like and alter whatever you need to do! Thanks in advance ✨

A/N: Hi! I wasn’t sure which guys you wanted, so I picked the main 4. Haha, I just went with my blog’s name for this hc’s title. I got a bit carried away with Victor’s hc...is my bias-y showing? XD

———————————————

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You thought someone was trying to break down your apartment door.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

Picking up your pace, you flung open the door, ready to give the visitor a piece of your mind.

"Ms. Chips! Are you okay?"

You were shocked to see Kiro standing at your doorstep. He was out of breath, and small beads of sweat covered his face.

"Kiro? What are you doing here?" You stepped aside to let him into your home.

"Savin told me that he saw Willow's post about you not sleeping enough! I rushed here as soon as I could."

You watched your boyfriend place a few bags on your coffee table before plopping onto the sofa.

"Kiro, what's all this?" You couldn't help but wonder why he was carrying so many bags.

"Well, I thought you could use a little help," he started taking the items out of the bag and placed them on the table, "so, I got some chamomile tea, melatonin gummies, a few fruits with magnesium, lavender oil, passionflower tea, a few vegetables that have glycine, and over-the-counter sleeping pills."

"Kiro, did you buy the entire grocery store?"

"Sorry, Ms.Chips, I wasn't sure which item would help you, so I just got everything." He flashed a toothy grin, causing you to laugh.

You couldn't help but hug your sweet boyfriend. "Sorry for worrying you, Kiro. I have been extremely busy with the company and helping people around town."

"Princess, you need to sleep!" Kiro placed his hand on his chin, "You know what? I have an idea."

He pulled out his cellphone and dialed Savin. "Hey~! I am going to take the rest of the day off, take care of everything, okay? Thanks!"

Just as Kiro was about to hang up, you heard Savin screaming from the other side, "KIRO! YOU HAVE A LOT OF COMMITMENTS TODAY!"

"Kiro, are you sure that was a good idea? Wait, why do you want to take the day off?"

"Savin will handle everything. Ms. Chips, let's go to bed and not wake up until tomorrow. Actually, I don't want to hear anything...we are sleeping for the rest of the day, and that's final."

Kiro left you no choice as he threw you over his shoulder and carried you off to bed.

No getting sleep was nothing new to Victor. After all, he was the CEO of a very well known company, and on top of that, he had a reputation to maintain.

When Victor learned that you were not getting proper sleep, he wasn't surprised. Whenever you emailed your reports, Victor made a mental note of the time.

The first few times, Victor didn't think much when he saw 1 am, 3 am, 4:30 am. He assumed you were procrastinating, but when this became a frequent occasion, he began to worry.

One day, you received a text from Victor asking you to come to his office asap. No excuses.

You immediately thought that Victor was going to reprimand you for not sending in a proper report, but when you walked into his office, he seemed more worried than upset.

"Victor, is something the matter?"

"Yes. From now on, I want you to send in your report before 10 pm."

You expected Victor to give you a reason, but instead, he remained silent, awaiting your reply.

"T-That will be difficult to do." You bit down on your bottom lip, knowing well that your response was not going to go down well with your boyfriend.

"Why is that?" His face remained expressionless.

"Well, you see..." you started but decided to stop.

"Why are you always tired?" He asked and examined your face, "Your dark circles have gotten worse, and it seems as though you've lost weight."

Victor opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a stack of paper. He looked straight into your eyes before placing it in front of you.

"V-Victor, I..."

"You were in the hospital last week. Did you truly believe that you could hide this from me?"

"I am s-sorry. I knew you were busy and didn't want you to worry."

"Why are you not getting enough sleep?"

Taking in a deep breath, you told Victor the truth, "I have been volunteering, and there is a lot to do around the company. Anna has been sick, and Minor has to take care of a sick family member, so I have to do their work as well."

Victor sighed, "Did you think that I would get angry at you if you told me the truth? Your well being is more important to me than anything."

"Victor..."

After making a few calls, Victor turned his attention to you, "For the time being, you will solely focus on your company. I have asked Goldman to send a few employees of LFG to your company. As for volunteering, you will take a break from that."

"But-" Before you could make any excuses, Victor interrupted you.

"There are others in the city that can volunteer in your place. Also, you are still responsible for sending your reports in on time."

You were waiting for him to say this, but what Victor said next caught you completely off guard.

"Send your report to Goldman in bullet point form, and he will convert that into a formal report."

"What?" You gawked at Victor, thinking that you may have misheard his words.

Victor chuckled, "Dummy."

He rose to his feet and made his way to your chair. Victor picked you up and walked to the sofa in his office.

"Now, I want you to rest." He gently lowered you onto the black and white sofa before taking off his suit jacket.

Victor covered you with his blazer and took off your heels. He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

After a few minutes, Victor turned his attention from his laptop to you only to find you sleeping peacefully. A rare smile appeared on his lips, "Sleep well, my beloved dummy."

After what felt like an eternity, you finished your volunteer work. Anna had warned you to think carefully before working on a show that required you to volunteer. You couldn't help but think that you should have listened to her.

The clock read 1:10 am, and your report was far from being finished. You were almost tempted to call your employees and ask for their help, but you decided against it. After all, the company was your responsibility.

You decided to take a break and walked over to your open window.

"Having trouble sleeping?"

You nearly lost your balance, but Gavin caught you.

Even though this was usually Gavin's way of visiting you, for some reason, you could never get used to it.

"Gavin? What are you doing here?" You regained your balance and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You have not been sleeping for the past few days."

"Huh? How do you know that?"

"I come to check on your every night." He gave a smile.

"You do? Are you that worried about you?" You pecked his lips.

Your action caused Gavin's cheeks to turn red. He averted his eyes and cleared his throat before speaking, "I always worry about you. Would you like to come out with me?"

"Well, I have a report due, but..."

Gavin smiled and lifted you out of the window. "It won't take long."

The night air was crisp and refreshing. The moon's brightness made the ocean shimmer. The cool air brushed your cheeks, causing you to wrap your arms tighter around Gavin's neck.

"Cold?" He asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

"No, the air feels good."

By the time you got back, you felt so calm that you were able to finish your report in no time.

All the while, Gavin sat on the sofa and watched you with a smile.

After you finished, you took a shower and changed into your nightclothes. When you walked out, Gavin couldn't help but stare at you with wide eyes.

You had completely forgotten that Gavin was still there and had accidentally worn your revealing nightwear.

Your boyfriend rose to his feet and slowly walked towards you, taking in the beautiful sight in front of him.

"Gavin, will you be staying? It's pretty late."

You failed to notice the mesmerized look on Gavin's face. He wordlessly lifted you and carried you to bed.

After placing you on your bed, Gavin brought his lips closer to your ear and whispered, "You look beautiful. Don't let any other man see you like this."

After saying those words, Gavin quickly walked into your bathroom.

In your tired state, you had failed to notice a tent in Gavin's pants.

The next morning, when you saw yourself in the mirror, you realized what Gavin meant. Luckily for you, your dear boyfriend wasn't there to see you turning a hundred shades of red.

It was 3:45 am, and you were typing away on your laptop. Your mind was too preoccupied to hear a knock on your apartment door.

The sound of your text notification nearly made you jump from your seat.

My dear kitten, I know you're awake. I can see the light under your door.

You were confused for a second, but it suddenly hit you that the only way Lucien can see the light under your door is-

Rushing to the front door, you opened it to find your beloved boyfriend, smiling.

"I have been knocking for a while. You had me worried."

You let Lucien into your apartment while explained that you were too focused on your report.

"Dear kitten, sleep is an important commodity. Do you wish to impair your brain functions?"

"Of course not, but Lucien-"

"Have you forgotten that I am a neuroscientist? Sleep deprivation will negatively impact your body."

"But Lucien, your awake as well, and you don't sleep enough."

Your straightforward response startled your boyfriend. "I realize that, but my dear kitten, I do sleep. It does not seem as though you have slept recently."

"I have just been so busy, and I need to get the report in before morning!" You sighed and rested your head on Lucien's shoulder.

"Then shall we get your report finished?"

Though Lucien was a firm believer of "one has to do their own work", his concern for your health forced him to make an exception.

With the help of your genius boyfriend, you managed to get the report finished in half an hour. As soon as you submitted your report, Lucien carried you to your bedroom and placed you on your bed.

"Do excuse me for a second." He made his way to the bathroom, and after a few minutes, he returned.

"Lucien, are you staying here?"

"But of course. How else will I be sure that you receive adequate rest?" With those words, he got into your bed before pulling you close to him.

Your comfortable bed, Lucien's warmth, and his comforting scent were enough to help you relax. Soon, sleep began to consume you.

Lucien gently ran his fingers through your hair as he studied your sleeping face. "My love, do take care of yourself. You worry me more than you realize."

———————————————

➣ MLQC Masterlist ➣ Buy me a Ko-fi or Commission?

#mlqc victor #victor x reader #mlqc lucien #lucien x reader #mlqc gavin #gavin x reader #mlqc kiro #kiro x reader #mlqc headcanon #mlqc

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cancerbiophd · 4 years ago

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Hi, I need some advice please. When I was an undergrad, I did research with a professor who is now my master's thesis advisor. My advisor is literally one of the nicest people I know, and I would even consider us to be friends. However she is super "hands off" when it comes to her students' research; she generally expects us to be very independent and rarely checks in with us. This was fine when I was an undergrad, but I feel lost as a grad student. Since our uni shut down... (1/2)

Since our uni shutdown, my advisor started doing one-on-one meetings with me and my lab mates. During the last meeting, she asked how my thesis writing was going. I panicked and lied and said that I'll have a draft ready by the end of July. The truth is I haven't even started writing it because I don't know how to start, and I think that it's going to turn out horrible. And ofc I feel awful that I felt I had to lie to someone who has only shown me kindness. Should I come clean? (2/2)

Hello there! it’s ok, you’re going to be ok. let’s take this one step at a time and see what the best, most doable plan is moving forward, yeah?

Let’s first start by talking about what a “Draft” is and is not. It’s not a final completed polished work of art and it’s not something that’s made perfect in a day; it’s not the 3-tier photograph-ready wedding cake you will eventually be making.

A draft is basically: a vision to bake a cake and what kind of cake you want, a collection of ingredients for said cake, knowledge of your kitchen equipment, and maybe a few specific steps here and there (eg. what temperature to set the oven at). And with each version of the draft you’ll slowly build that cake, step by step.

So for your thesis, it is absolutely acceptable for your first draft to be that pile of ingredients and a vision, aka an outline. Outlines are a great (and necessary, really) place to start. Because it’s a casual collection of words and phrases, you don’t have to deal with the overwhelming task of putting together sentences and paragraph and all that nonsense. Here’s a great resource about making an outline.

And once you start making your outline, you may find yourself putting in more and more detail, until you basically have some parts almost completely written! Here’s more about that.

Turning in a detailed outline first is also a great way to make sure you’re on track for what your PI envisions your thesis to look like. And be sure to put that in the email when you send over the outline: “Can you let me know if I’m on the right track with the direction of the sections in my thesis?” and/or “Please let me know if you have any suggestions for additional sections”--stuff like that.

Now, as to how to make sure you have that outline done by the end of July (or sooner! Wouldn’t that be a pleasant surprise for you and your PI):

Don’t wait for inspiration to strike--instead, treat your writing time like a regularly-scheduled class. “Habit has written far more books than inspiration has”. Set aside a block of time each day (and/or a few times each week) to write. And writing isn’t always typing on a word processor; looking up source material, editing, brainstorming--that all counts as writing!

Break your task into doable chunks. Staring at a huge task is overwhelming, so let’s break it down into less overwhelming tasks that are perfect for the block of time you have set aside for writing. How about let’s outline the Introduction tomorrow, and then do Section 1 the next time, etc.

And plan out all these tasks on a calendar starting today until your July due date, so you can plan ahead and see how much you have to work (eg. do you need only 1 hour a week to write in order to meet your goal? or 5 hours a week?). I prefer doing it on an electronic calendar, in case I need to make changes as time goes on.

Other tips:

Have a reference manager. EndNote is a popular program, but it costs $$ so I use Mendeley and its Word plug-in to do my in-text citations and references. (It will save you a lot of time if you already have in-text citations ready to go when you’re making your outline--plus your PI can also see what sources you have, and can make suggestions for ones you’re missing)

Save everything you delete onto another document, and save each manuscript version as its own document. That way, if you change your mind about a section, you won’t have to rewrite it. Before I do any major work on my manuscript, I save it as a new doc with that day’s date in the file name.

Seek other mentors. If your PI truly is very hands-off and wants to stay that way, but you need more help, you can seek out the advice of others. This includes, but is not limited to: other grad students in your lab, cohort, or program; other members in your lab like post-docs or other researchers; your committee (if applicable); other professors you’re familiar with. Even if it’s just to have a second pair of eyes to look over a section because you’ve been staring at it for too long.

If you do want to talk with your PI about your predicament, then go for it. It sounds like your PI will absolutely be understanding. You don’t have to say you lied, just that you’re experiencing some challenges with your writing and would like some help. I would suggest making a few points as to what you can both do to change moving forward, like: maybe dedicate a few minutes during your regular meetings to talk about your writing goals and process (or maybe even have more regular meetings), turn in more regular drafts for your PI to check, and get suggestions for writing resources or potentially other sources of writing mentors.

How’s that plan? I hope that’s something that find doable, or gives you a few ideas on how you can best move forward :) Good luck! You got this hun!

#Anonymous #writing advice

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ootori-sibs · 4 years ago

Text

Kyoya's second shot

Episode three: Return of the bully

"What are you doing here?"

"I'd like to request Tamaki."

The twins paused, sharing a glance before looking at the girl once more. "You're blacklisted, remember?"

"No I'm not." She crossed her arms, looked like he'd have to step in.

Kyoya was at the twins side almost instantly, book in hand. "She was blacklisted last year yes, but this year she's done no wrong. You remember Tamaki's philosophy don't you?" He glances down at the twins, watching them frown and shrug, wandering around.

"The boss is weird, we don't trust her." They left to return to their post, disagreeing but conceding.

Kyoya looks down at Seika, his gaze crueller then she could ever manage. "Just tell him your banishment has expired, he'd be happy to welcome you back."

"Using Tamaki's philosophies against him?" She raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you a manipulative little homo~."

"Our agreement shall not be spoken of here, keep to yourself, princess." Kyoya gives a fake bow, gesturing towards Tamaki's table. "Have fun."

She approached Tamaki's table, Kyoya sighed and went to sit down, staring at the numbers on the screen. He glanced around for a moment before taking out his phone.

Shadow king: Eclair, have you spoken to that woman yet?

Woman: No, I've been busy. I don't see why I should talk to her when you're not even dating Rene yet.

Child: Who?

Woman: You'd know him as Tamaki.

Child: ah

Shadow king: It won't take that long, and convincing that dreadful woman will.

Woman: Ugh, at least get some progress done before you start hounding me you bitch.

Bitchboy: Speaking of which, my article is ready to print.

Shadow king: Send me a PDF.

An email arrived in Kyoya's inbox, with a link to a pdf file. He opened it, scanning down the page with a critical eye, opening a seperate application in order to edit it. No basic spell check, at least this fool knew how to spell and use grammar. But Kyoya did need to edit out most parts that painted gays in a bad light, making the story focus more on Haruhi and Renge and less on the fact that they're both women. He even attached an image of the duo holding hands, knowing full well that holding hands can often be platonic, but the girls at this school are basic, and will do anything to believe a scandal. He sent an email back, with the new link, and sent a message to the chat.

Shadow king: Post it.

At lunch, Haruhi complained that her new phone had none of her photos, she was sad to have lost all those memories. Kyoya had to sympathise with her there, he'd sort of assumed she used the cloud. Then her complaints changed when she realised her lunch box was missing from her bag- it had been stolen. As expected, Tamaki instantly rushed to her side, promising to buy her lunch for today, and she agreed, apologising as they left the club room. Huh. Tamaki didn't ask Kyoya to join today…

But it was ok, he was alone now. He made his way to Tamaki's bag, it contained two cards, Tamaki's own money, and the club's budget. Kyoya had the details memorised of course, that wasn't why he needed it. He quickly snuck over, and slipped the card into Haruhi's wallet, next to her own. He smiled cruelly, ready to play his part. He'd spent all night thinking about what he would actually do in that situation, so he's more than prepared for his starring role. Of course he'd prefer to not have the starring role, but he is the one who's in charge of finances, he has to react like he actually would.

He sits back down at the table, he needs a reason to ask for the card… he looks on his laptop, finding a little cafe in town that sold custom food platters, entirely customizable… oh, Tamaki did suggest a commoner food theme, maybe a customized platter for each host would be a good idea, and he and Tamaki could even go in person. Oh it was all coming together now! Kyoya had wanted to try some new makeup things, he'd mostly been doing the same face every day, it wasn't exactly catching any eyes by the second week. He should do something special for their day out.

Kyoya was practically bouncing in his chair, clicking his pen as fast as possible when he heard the door quick, scrambling to look busy, and normal. The other hosts entered the room, getting to their seats and doing the usual finishing touches to their appearances before the door opened. Kyoya watches Tamaki comb his hair carefully, his hair almost sparkling in the light. He called over to the king, "Tamaki! Get over here, I want to show you something."

Tamaki hurried over, leaning over Kyoya's shoulder. "What is it mon ami?" He looked at the screen, then glancing to Kyoya. Kyoya smiles softly, switching his window to the website of the little commoner store he'd found.

"Remember when you mentioned that commoner food theme? We could get customised platters for each host?" He suggested the idea, looking at Tamaki closely for his reaction. Tamaki's face lit up, clearly finding the idea a good one.

"Ooh that's perfect! Weldone Kyoya!" He pats Kyoya on the head gently, condescending but oh did it make Kyoya feel actually proud. Funny how that works. "We can all go! A club day out!" Ah. Kyoya's moment of joy evaporated at the king's words, he definitely didn't want that… but Tamaki seemed to notice how Kyoya defeated, looking at him in slight worry. "Is something wrong?"

"Well…" he started, sighing when he realised how stupid it sounded, "I'm sorry Tamaki, I was under the impression we would go alone, it does seem like a more behind the scenes type action as opposed to something we want everyone there for." He wasn't sure exactly what he was saying, he just definitely didn't want to spend time with all the hosts outside of school, that would almost definitely overwhelm him.

Luckily, Tamaki seemed to understand, he smiled, nodding. "Oh of course! It's been so long since I've spent some good quality time with my bestest friend in the entire world." He chuckles and hugs Kyoya, pressing his cheek against Kyoya's face. Said shadow king's face was heating up, feeling a pit drop at the word friend, but feeling still proud to be Tamaki's favourite person, he can ignore Haruhi's existence for a second for bliss.

"If we're going in person," Kyoya began, knowing exactly what his lines were, "you should probably get the club credit card out of wherever you've hidden it." He looked up at Tamaki, watching the recognition spark on the king's face.

"Oh! It's just in my bag, I never take it out." He hurried over, searching through his bag, Kyoya's phone had vibrated so he checked it.

Bitchboy: We're having trouble with the printer, it should be fixed by tomorrow?

Shadow king: Alright, post it tomorrow then.

He looked back over at Tamaki, smiling when he saw the colour drain from the monarch's face. "It's gone!" This caused all the other hosts to look over at him, he looked around at all of them in turn. "The club's card! The one with access to all the club funds! It's gone missing!"

Time for Kyoya's starring roll, his eyes widened, and he spun around in his seat as fast as he could. "What do you mean it's missing? How idiotic to you have to be to loose the club's money!?" His words, or at least the way he'd said them, seemed to spark panic in the other hosts, if Kyoya was worried then surely they should be too.

"Where did you last have it??"

"Doesn't Kyo-chan handle the money?"

"Did you check again?"

Words from the hosts echoed around the room, everyone was sent into a bit of a tizzy. Only shutting up when Mori speaks, quietly, but speaking nonetheless. "Calm down, check your bags and pockets, it may have been dropped and picked up by someone else." Oh, he was a voice of reason, when he managed to find that voice. Kyoya might be head over heels for Tamaki but he can't help but admit that that voice makes him a little weak at the knees.

The hosts do as he tells them to, searching through bags and pockets, Kyoya does so only to keep suspicion away from himself. He was listening for it, he knew it was coming, "oh…" and there it was. He glanced over, to see Haruhi holding the little card, and looking extremely confused. Kyoya got to his feet and was by her side in an instant, plucking the card from her fingers, face contorting into a look of disgust, one he'd cleverly practiced all night.

"So you're a thief now too?" His voice was cruel, and if any of the hosts weren't looking before, they were now. Haruhi looked up at her, eyes widening by the second. "I know you live in squalor but please, don't take us for fools."

"Wh- what?? Senpai, you know I wouldn't do that! I'm not a thief!" Clear panic on her face as she glanced around, realising that Kyoya's word ranked above her own. Kyoya knew this too, but he also knew the other hosts adored Haruhi completely, so time to take a better tone.

His voice sunk into sounding hurt, he was in charge of the money of course, but he was still a friend. "Haruhi please, you don't have to lie to us. You know if you needed money, you could have asked Tamaki, he'd be more than willing- as would most of the others." He glanced to the side, the others were nodding, Tamaki looked hurt as he rushed to her side.

"Are you ok Haruhi?? Is anyone threatening you into paying them money? If you're having troubles we can help you! We would always help you!!" He clasped her hands in his own, eye full of sadness and pity.

"Senpai… I really don't know how the card got into my bag I promise, I wouldn't steal from you guys…" She looked slightly annoyed, but it was clear there was panic behind her eyes. Kyoya was about to say something more, put another nail in her coffin- when the twins spoke up.

"Maybe it was princess Ayanokoji, she loves to bully Haruhi." They spoke in unison, frowning, hands tilted just a little. They weren't wrong, they just didn't quite get it, they were close though, and that scared Kyoya.

"Oh yes," Tamaki stood up, his pondering clear, "she recently told me her blacklisting had expired…" He looked at Kyoya, with eyes that unwittingly make the shadow king's hands shake, "was that something we wrote into the rulebook?"

Kyoya swallowed dryly, nodding once. "Yes," he gestured vaguely, "you said something about redemption and growth whilst we were discussing the club back in the planning stage, so I wrote it into the rules. I'm surprised you don't remember." Yes, that was a good idea, put the spotlight on Tamaki, what kind of a king doesn't remember his own rules.

The twins spoke again, "there's a rulebook?" They frowned at Kyoya, ugh, idiots.

"I gave everyone a copy when you first joined, the big binded file? With the colour coded ribbon?" It was true that he had given everyone a rulebook, and he was quite insulted they couldn't remember, he'd spent a whole week on those.

"Oooh," Hikaru began, a look of recognition on both faces as Kaoru finished, "yeah we threw that out." Kyoya was incredibly angry at that, but simply turned to go and sit down, clicking his pen in a more negative manner, he couldn't lose his temper, he couldn't lose his cool. Not right now.

14:25 - the card was found in Haruhi's wallet, the twins saved her. They don't care one bit for any effort I had put into the rule book, it seems my efforts are an expectation for them.

"That wasn't a very nice thing for you to do, Kyoya had worked hard on those rulebooks. I watched him bind those folders himself, there was glue everywhere!" He could hear Tamaki scold the twins for him, feeling a little better for all Tamaki cared.

"I never got a rulebook when I joined senpai?" Haruhi spoke, clearly sounding slightly shaken.

"Oh!" Tamaki exclaimed, clicking his fingers, he didn't even need to say anything else, Kyoya knew what to do.

"...I'll send you a pdf." He said flatly, going through his google drive, he was going to have to make an edit or two…

Halfway through the session, a sound was heard. Kyoya glanced over to see Tamaki coughing and spluttering, from what little he heard, it seemed Haruhi had put salt in his coffee, or rather Seika had switched the sugar for salt, he knew this was true by her smirk as she watched Tamaki scold Haruhi for being so out of it today. To Kyoya's surprise, Haruhi actually sounded stressed out when she responded. When the session ended she didn't stay behind to help clear up, she just grabbed her bag and hurried off to class.

Tamaki sighed, "I'm worried about her… she's so out of it, I wonder if she's feeling alright."

"She got caught stealing," Kyoya began, not meeting the king's eyes, "only got saved by the twins, got scolded for screwing up something as simple as coffee and didn't even bother to help clear up? Sounds to me like she's trying to spite you for something."

Tamaki paused, looking at Kyoya in clear interest, Kyoya refused to let Tamaki peer behind the curtain like he had so often done. "Are you mad at her? Do you really think that?" Oh great, he'd done it. Once again, Kyoya was angry at this man being able to see straight through him.

"Well, she did try and steal our hard earned funds, you can forgive me for being on edge." It wasn't a question, he wasn't asking to be forgiven, and Tamaki knew that. But Tamaki didn't care, he just sighed. Kyoya didn't stop, "it seems to be like there's something else on her mind, something opposing you." He didn't want to mention Renge, cause he feared that might lead Tamaki to realise he had something to do with the upcoming news.

Tamaki frowned, looking genuinely worried, "she has been distant lately…" Oh, and there was the sound of Kyoya's heart breaking, as much as this was his goal, he hated seeing his love in pain. He sighed, putting his laptop down, throwing his own pain away.

"Hey, I'm sure it's fine Tamaki, even if she is hurting you, you are so far above her, it's only natural she'd seek to lash out." He smiles softly, taking Tamaki's hand in his own. "You've got nothing to fear."

"So… you're saying she's lashing out because she feels inferior?" Tamaki tilted his head slightly, looking confused, Kyoya sighed, sure, that was close enough, he nodded. Tamaki frowned, "oh… she shouldn't, I should think of something to cheer her up. Perhaps I'll take her on a date this weekend!"

"Not before our day out?" Kyoya frowned, hating the outcome of this situation, becoming confused when Tamaki chuckled.

"Oh of course not Kyoya, don't worry." The king smiled, reaching up and ruffling Kyoya's hair. "I missed spending time with you, even if you can be a little demanding at times."

Kyoya had to chuckle at that, feeling reassured that Tamaki was still going to prioritize him. "You're one to talk, remember when we first met?" He didn't even need to elaborate to have Tamaki laughing, knowing full of what Kyoya had referred to.

There wasn't a hosting session at the end of the day, there'd been too many accidents that Tamaki had decided to hold an impromptu meeting. Haruhi was late, so where the twins but that was irrelevant. Kyoya frowned as she walked in, crossing her arms. "A thief and a truant? Are you planning on playing the delinquent this year?"

"Shut the hell up Kyoya!" Hikaru snapped at him, causing Kyoya to all but squeak in alarm, he hadn't been expecting resistance. "She's being bullied if you hadn't noticed, and your stupid comments aren't fucking helping!" Kyoya glanced around the table, it seemed he'd gone a little far, but no one cared about what he'd said, in fact he was being completely ignored in favour of their precious Haruhi being bullied.

"You're being bullied??" Tamaki stood, looking so very worried. "What happened?"

Haruhi didn't say anything in response, choosing only to sigh. It was Kaoru who spoke up, "someone spray painted on the window outside the classroom, essentially calling her a gay whore."

"Oh ouch." Wait shit, did he say that outloud? The other hosts were looking at him, at least they'd stopped ignoring him?

"Yeah…" Kaoru began, letting Hikaru finish, "we stayed with her to talk to the teacher."

Haruhi went to sit down, burying her face in her hands. "I just want to go home and take a nap…" God, Kyoya hadn't expected to feel for her, but Ayanokoji had gone way too far, this was disgusting.

Shadow king: WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU??

A GAY WH*RE? DID YOU REALLY FUCKING CALL HER A GAY WH*RE?

Child: cranky cause you're also a gay whore aren't you?

Shadow king: You're like 13 shut the fuck up.

Woman#2: You told me to make her life hell, that's what I did.

"It's ok Haruhi, you can leave if you want…" Tamaki started, frowning, eyes full of sadness. But he paused, looking down at Kyoya, "who are you texting?" Uh oh.

Kyoya spoke plainly, not letting the other's see his eyes behind his glasses. "I'm putting Seika Ayanokoji back onto the blacklist, at least until she proves it wasn't her." He pauses, noticing how Tamaki appears to approve. "I will also have a talk with her about why she was removed from the blacklist, and how she can get back off of it."

"Hm, good idea Kyoya." Tamaki nods in approval before turning back to Haruhi and going to hold her, she lets him for once, but doesn't reciprocate.

Shadow king: I've put you back on the blacklist for the time being, the hosts are on to you.

Woman#2: But our agreement???

Shadow king: Is only valid if you're actually useful.

So try being useful.

Everything but the graffiti was alright.

And don't forget the school has cameras.

Woman#2: Don't be such a baby.

Shadow king: Don't be so insolent.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. Tamaki glanced at him, clearly on edge, and Kyoya decides this silence is too unbearable to stand. "Well, I think this meeting has been enlightening. But I'm sure we're all tired, so, Tamaki?" He didn't have the power to dismiss the hosts, but he had the power to ask Tamaki to do so.

And who was Tamaki to refuse him? The king nodded, sighing and curling a lock of Haruhi's hair in his fingers. "Of course, you're all dismissed, you may leave if you wish."

Most of the hosts got up and left, mumbling condolences to Haruhi as they did so. Kyoya began slowly packing his stuff away, he could feel Haruhi's eyes were on him. He didn't feel shame, only pity. He stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He glanced down at Haruhi, "I hope you have a better day tomorrow," he spoke curtly, almost mocking her in a roundabout way, but genuinely meaning that, the news story won't affect her nearly as much as the graffiti, and at least she'd get a reprieve.

Shadow king: Before I forget, don't go after her tomorrow, the article will be enough.

Woman#2: So much for making her life hell, you coward.

#tamakyo #ouran high school host club #ohshc #kyotama #kyoya ootori #hikaru and kaoru #kaoru hitachiin #hikaru hitachiin #haruhi fujioka #takashi morinozuka #mitsukuni haninozuka #tamaki souh #kyoyassecondshot

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cordonian-literature · 4 years ago

Text

The Aftermath - Ch. 3

More Visitors

Summary: The Beaumonts find out about Riley’s condition

A/N: I know the last chapter was Liam and Drake, but their first encounter with Riley is actually here, in the preview. Check it out if you haven’t yet!

Word Count: ~3.4k

Warning: Mention of character death

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here!

Tags: @captain-kingliamsqueen @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @gkittylove99 @lovablegranny @loudbluebirdlover @mom2000aggie @kingliam2019 @queenrileyrose @shanzay44 @cordonianroyalty @hopefulmoonobject @hopelessromanticmonie @cinnamonspongecake

- Maxwell -

“If it be true that thee shall not cease insulting mine own family nameth, then I dare thee to a battleth!”

“A hurlyburly thee sayeth? Well, then I'll seeth thee on the dueling ground!”

“Ah, but this isn't a normal battleth, because I dare thee to a breakdance hurlyburly!”

“But I knoweth not how to doth the breaketh danceth!”

“Thou art a blinking idiot, and were bound to loseth!”

“Uncle Max, why do I always have to play the character that loses?” Bartie tosses his copy of the script on the coffee table.

“Because I’m the one with the killer dance moves!” Maxwell strikes a pose. “You only get to where I am after a lifetime of practice, muffin, and you’ve still got a long way to go.”

“But can’t you lose to me at least once?” Bartie picks up the booklet and starts flipping through the pages. “Like how you pretended to lose to Count Appleton in a rap battle, but then won against him in another rap battle in the next scene!”

“That was to catch him off-guard! I gained his trust and then his respect,” Maxwell argues

“Don’t you want my character’s trust and respect?”

“Your character keeps insulting my character’s family name!” Maxwell cries.

“Whatever.” He throws the booklet back down. “I’m going go to my room for a little while.”

“Wanna run through your fork placement again?”

“No, I’m okay. I’ve got it down. Thank you, though.” Bartie heads up the stairs towards his room.

“I’ll see you at dinner, muffin,” Maxwell calls. He plops onto the couch and begins to reread his script as Savannah walks into the room.

“So how was rehearsal?” she questions. “Did you get a chance to teach Bartie that move you were talking about?”

He shakes his head. “No, we didn’t get to it. Don’t think the little muffin is interested in breakdancing, so I won’t bother him anymore.”

Savannah doesn’t say anything. Maxwell had started working on his breakdance opera years ago after he tried to finish his novel but then gave up on it, claiming the topic was too depressing. He tried his best to get Bartie interested in his opera, even though Bertrand said it wasn’t appropriate for a boy of his status to be learning how to breakdance instead of perfecting the Cordonian Waltz. In the beginning, Bartie was thrilled that he got to spend more time with his Uncle Maxwell, but as time went on the boy became bored and started to look more towards Uncle Drake for some fun — which Bertrand thought was even more inappropriate (”My boy should be learning how to properly host the royal family, not learning how cut wood or put up a tent!”), though he allowed it after Savannah insisted — and so Maxwell felt increasingly alone at Ramsford.

He could spend some time with Liam and Drake in the capital, but both men were so closed off lately that the air around them would become stifling. He wanted to plan a trip to Shanghai so the Beaumonts could visit Hana, but Bertrand was always so caught up with maintaining the estate — and he never let Maxwell help him — that a moment to relax as a family was uncommon.

At dinner, Bartie half-heartedly explained to his father how his lessons had gone. Bertrand asked Bartie if he wanted to do some work with him tonight, just to get a feel of what it was like to run the estate, but Bartie simply shrugged and walked off without finishing his dinner.

Bertrand was about to go after him and demand Bartie to return to his seat, but Savannah put a hand on his shoulder and told her husband to let the boy go.

“He’s not feeling too well lately,” she reasoned. “Let him go. If he wants to talk to us he will.”

“There is no reason for him to be behaving in such a manner. I will remind him tomorrow morning, and I will make sure he sits with me... he needs to learn how to run the house sooner or later, and the former would be most preferable.” Bertrand took a sip of his wine.

Even though House Beaumont’s finances had improved tremendously over time, Bertrand was still obsessed with keeping everything in order, almost desperate to make sure there was no chance of any sort of decline happening again. He wouldn’t hear anyone who tried to tell him that he should take a break or loosen up a little.

“Go easy on him,” Maxwell suggests. “He’s been working really hard on his lessons and barely gets any time to go outside.”

“He needs to spend his time learning all he can so he can be a reputable duke when the time comes!”

“Bertrand, please,” Savannah says. “He’s just having a couple bad days. It’s normal.”

Bertrand sighs. “I don’t understand why he feels this way. Just last week he was fine. What happened now?”

“He went to Drake’s this weekend, so maybe he misses him,” Savannah speculates.

“I’ll call him up later,” Maxwell declares. “It’s been a while since I’ve talked to my old pal. I kinda miss him, too.”

The three finish their meal in quiet, but Maxwell sits impatiently for the moment he could jump up and go call Drake.

After their plates were taken away, Maxwell said his good nights to Savannah and Bertrand and raced up the stairs towards Bartie’s room.

He knocks on the door and waits for Bartie to unlock it. “Yes?” Bartie says.

“I thought we could give Uncle Drake a call! It’s been a couple days since you’ve seen him and it’s been a while since I’ve talked to him.”

“It’s barely been two days,” Bartie scoffs. “But alright, I guess.”

Bartie goes to sit next to Maxwell on the edge of the bed and leans in while they wait for Drake to answer the FaceTime call.

He declines the call. Maxwell calls again, Drake declines again.

“Maybe he’s busy?” Bartie wonders aloud.

“It’s more likely that he just doesn’t want me bothering him.” Maxwell’s phone vibrates. “He texted me!”

On flight. Will call in morning.

“He’s traveling? Where? Do you think His Majesty sent him away again?” Bartie asks.

“I don’t really know. Hopefully he’ll keep his promise and call back in the morning. Until then there’s not much we can do.” Maxwell sighs and stands up, ruffling Bartie’s hair. “Good night, muffin. Sleep well.”

In his room, Maxwell lays in bed thinking of all the places Drake could be going. Olivia was the one who led independent investigations and never told anything to anyone else until she was sure of what she had, so it was unlikely Drake had gone to find something upon her suggestion. Maxwell had tried to reach out to Riley through social media, but soon after he contacted her, she’d deleted all of her accounts, blocked his number, and blocked his email — then when they tried to trace her number through Olivia’s phone, they reached a dead end.

Drake on the other hand, did work together with Maxwell and Olivia, but also with the division of the King’s Guard that Liam had made to search for Riley. Their king was constantly sending out people to thoroughly examine every place that yielded even the smallest hint of a lead. Rarely was anything found, and when it was, it was either useless or highly questionable.

Recently, they were having difficulty finding new leads — they had already checked so many places around the world that it was hard to think of any place they may have disregarded. That was when Liam and Drake started distancing themselves even further. Maxwell knew they usually spent time together near the end of the week, but when Drake suggested Bartie visit over the weekend, Maxwell knew that both men had started losing hope.

The next morning during another quiet meal, Maxwell noticed Savannah stealing glances at her son.

“Did Uncle Drake call you back yet?” Bartie directed his question towards Maxwell.

“No,” Maxwell said, his mouth stuffed with blueberries and waffles. “I’ll check in on him in a few.”

Bertrand continued the conversation by telling everyone what he planned to do for the rest of the day. Maxwell could tell that he was trying to get Bartie to want to work with him. He was glad Bertrand wasn’t pushing Bartie too much, and was sure that Savannah had probably talked to him about it last night.

After breakfast, Maxwell gave Drake a call, but it went straight to voicemail. Maxwell left a message asking Drake to get back to him.

In an attempt to get Bartie out of the house before his tutor showed up, Maxwell went to his door and tried to persuade his nephew to go on a jog with him.

“Maybe later,” Bartie called out from inside his room. “I’m a little tired right now.”

Some time after noon, Drake still hadn’t called back. Finishing his lunch, Maxwell decides to give Drake a call to make sure everything was alright.

The phone rings for so long Maxwell thinks Drake isn’t going to answer, but then hears his voice from the other side: “Hey, Maxwell.”

“Drake!” Maxwell shouts. “What’s happening? You said you’d call this morning but then you didn’t.”

“Sorry about that,” Drake’s voice doesn’t seem directed at Maxwell, who can tell that he’s distracted. “Got caught up.” There’s people talking in the background, but Maxwell can’t tell who it is or what they’re saying.

“So where did you fly off to?” he asks.

Drake doesn’t answer. The people in the background keep talking. After a few seconds, Drake’s voice is more purposeful when he says to Maxwell, “Listen. Liam and I are in New York. We’re with Riley.”

The rest of Drake’s monologue cuts out as her name echoes through Maxwell’s mind.

Riley? Our Riley? They found little blossom? How long has it been? Ten years? Almost eleven? Feels like a hundred.

Are they there to bring her back? Does she even want to come back? Would she want to see me, the person who set in motion the series of events that led to her name being dragged through the mud, to her disappearance, to heartbreak?

“New York?” Maxwell finally brings himself to speak through the lump in his throat. “Little blossom’s in New York? When did you find out?”

“Like I said, we found out just last night.” Maxwell didn’t want to mention that he wasn't listening when Drake had said that.

“Is... is she alright? Have you talked to her? What did she say?”

“Pay attention, Maxwell,” Drake scolds through his teeth.

“I was paying attention! But if you would be so kind as to repeat what you said....”

“She was visiting a museum and there was a bomb. She’s in New York Presbyterian, and we’re here, too. She got a serious head injury and had surgery on Sunday. Her legs are pretty beat up, but the doctor says some rest will help her get back on her feet within a few weeks.”

“Where is she?” Maxwell yells. “Are you with her?”

Drake sighs. “No, not at the moment. The doctor and a nurse checked her and said they wanted to take her for another CT scan to see if there was anything they might have overlooked.”

“So you... you didn’t speak to her at all?”

“I didn’t, no, but Liam did before they took her away. He won’t tell me what she said.”

“So she is talking, right? She’s alright, technically? Nothing permanent?”

“I don’t know, Maxwell. I’ll let you know what happens when they bring her back.”

“Let me talk to her. I want to see my little blossom,” Maxwell requests. Drake says something, but his voice is far away. He’s talking to someone else, and doesn’t bring the phone back to his ear. “Drake? Hello?”

The line disconnects. Maxwell stands there, shocked. His feet were rooted in place as he stares down at his phone.

Did they really find Riley? If they did, could they convince her to return?

I was the one who convinced her to come to Cordonia in the first place. I should be there helping bring her back.

“BERTRAND!” Maxwell shrieks, running out the room towards the study.

“What happened?” Savannah screams as Maxwell flies past her.

“BERTRAND!” he calls again, announcing his arrival.

When he opens the door to the study, Bertrand is on the phone, staring at Maxwell with a grim face. “My apologies, sir, but I will have to call you back,” he says to the person on the other end, hanging up. He stands. “What on Earth was that Maxwell? I’m on an important phone call and you come dashing in, screeching my name like a banshee! Do you understand how incompetent that looks?”

Maxwell knows he’s about to be at the receiving end of another one of Bertrand’s never-ending lectures, but he doesn’t care. He’s jittery and out of breath, but in between pants manages to say, “Liam and Drake found Riley. They’re with her right now. We have to go.”

Stunned, Bertrand takes a step back. “Riley?! Uh, er... Lady Riley?” He clears his throat, composing himself, but can’t get the words out. “They’ve... they’ve.... Where is she? His Majesty is with her?”

“In New York. Yes, he's there with Drake.”

Bertrand blinks. He finally manages a solemn voice and asks, “She is well, I hope?”

Maxwell shakes his head. Moments pass, with Bertrand deep in thought. Maxwell worries about what his brother will say next.

“Everything alright in here?” Savannah walks in. “Saw Maxwell run past and wanted to make sure that nothing was wrong.”

“His Majesty and Drake have found Lady Riley.” Bertrand’s voice is more prominent now.

“What?” Savannah brings a hand over her mouth.

Confidently, he declares, “Maxwell and I will be joining them in New York as soon as possible. I am sorry to leave you and Bartie, my dear,” he sighs, “but we must go. She is still House Beaumont, after all.”

After a moment, Savannah says, “We’ll come with you. I want to see her, too, and I know Bartie would enjoy the trip.”

Bertrand’s mind is already racing, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell his wife that he wants her to stay here. She seemed certain of herself, and so he would not dissuade her. “Alright then,” he replies.

“Aw yeah!” Maxwell cries. “Family vacation!”

“Yes, yes, now go pack,” Bertrand commands. “I’ll prepare a flight for us. We must go quickly. Time is of the essence.”

...

On the flight, Maxwell and Bertrand anxiously look out of their windows. Savannah talks to Bartie about the appeals of New York — after him and his mother had come back from Paris, the family had never taken Bartie out of Cordonia, and since Bertrand was persistent in having Bartie receive his education at the hands of tutors, the boy was never given the time to travel with his family, nor did he have any friends who could either relate to him or tell him tales of their travels.

Eventually, Bartie gets tired and takes a nap. Maxwell feels tired as well, but the excitement to see Riley again doesn’t stop sending jolts through his body. They were so close to her. So close to having her with them, and having everything be the way it should have been from the beginning.

Hours later, he wakes up Bartie and tells him that they’ve landed.

Once they’re out of the airport, Bertrand manages to tag down a driver. They drop off Savannah and Bartie at the hotel where they got a last minute reservation. When Maxwell and Bertrand are outside the hospital, Maxwell jumps out of the car and races inside.

“Maxwell!” Bertrand calls in a stiff whisper. Maxwell slows down and matches Bertrand’s pace. They walk up to the receptionist, who’s having a discussion with a doctor. They wait for her to notice them, and after a few moments Maxwell debates running off to try and find Riley’s room himself, but Bertrand clears his throat and asks, “Excuse me, could either one of you direct me towards Miss Riley Brooks? She’s a patient here, I believe.”

The doctor looks up. “Are one of you her designated support person?”

“No, not exactly—.”

“We’re family.” Maxwell chimes in. “We just heard what happened and flew in from Europe.”

“Visiting hours are over,” the doctor says. “You fellas can come back at nine in the morning. ‘Til then I can’t help you.”

“You will tell me where she is or you will face the wrath of House Beaumont’s lawyers!” Bertrand shouts.

“Beaumont? That your last name?” the doctor interrogates.

“Yes and—.”

“The lady’s last name is Brooks. Clearly, you guys aren’t family. I’m gonna need you two to leave. Unless you want me to get security?”

Bertrand looks at the doctor, fuming, ready to give him the worst tongue lashing the man has ever experienced, but someone grips his and Maxwell’s shoulders.

“They’re with me, Doc,” Drake says. “I’ll take them to Miss Brooks and there’ll be no more trouble. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Drake leads the two of them away from reception and towards the ICU.

“Drake!” Maxwell exclaims, putting an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Thanks for that. We really needed it.”

“Yes,” Bertrand adds. “It was much appreciated. Now, where is Lady Riley?”

“Did they find everything alright after the CT scan?” Maxwell asks.

Drake sighs. “Riley’s asleep right now. Today must have been stressful for her, I imagine. You guys can talk to her in the morning.”

Maxwell is about to repeat his question when he notices Liam sitting in the ICU waiting room, looking at the floor. “Liam!” he calls.

When Liam looks up, Maxwell looks in shock at his red, swollen eyes.

“What happened?” Maxwell breathes. The air in his lungs is suddenly painful.

“She—,” he looks back down and speaks slowly, as if every word sent a stab to his chest. “She didn’t remember me. She looked me right in the eye and asked me who I was.” His voice cracks, and he puts his head in his hands.

Maxwell takes a seat next to Liam, but says nothing. Bertrand stands in shock, staring at his king breaking down. Brows furrowed in confusion, he looks at Drake. “What does that mean?”

“She lost her memory.” Drake answered in a quiet voice. Every word seemed to break him. “The doctors didn’t tell us everything, but they told us that they doubted she even knew who she was. After they brought her from the CT scan and explained everything to her, she started crying. Her mother was there, too. She’s actually a nurse here. They’ve decided to question her tomorrow, to try and figure out what she remembers and doesn’t remember. Some detectives are also coming in to question a couple victims. They’re hoping to find some information, or at least something that’ll help them connect some dots.”

“Little blossom doesn’t know who we are?” Maxwell asks, as his shoulders begin to shake.

Bertrand manages to maintain his composure, though his voice cracks a couple times when he says, “Well. There’s nothing... there’s um... nothing we can do at the moment.” He clears his throat. “Have you two been able to acquire any accommodations?”

Liam sits up, his face wet. “Yes.” He sniffles. “Though we haven’t actually been to the hotel yet. We’ve been here for... oh, a little less than ten hours.”

“Your Majesty I believe it would be wise to spend the night at the hotel and rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day. Perhaps the doctors will let us ask questions as well.”

"Thank you, Duke Bertrand, but I would rather stay. Drake, if you want, you can go and get some sleep. I'm sure you need it. I'll be fine right here."

Drake, Maxwell, and Bertrand share a silent look, then take a seat near their friend. Bertrand sends Savannah a text, telling her that him and Maxwell will not be returning to the hotel tonight.

#the royal romance #cordonia #liam x mc #liam x riley #kingliam #liamrys #drakewalker #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevrakis #trr #trr riley #rileybrooks #choices fanfiction #trr fanfic #trr fandom #theroyalromance fanfic

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thevikingwoman · 4 years ago

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AU-gust 2020 - Prompt 1: Coffee Shop AU*

*Joker pick, instead of Fantasy AU

I love AUs, so I will fill some of the prompts for the @augustwritingchallenge. Most of these will be short stories in my typical style.

AU-gust masterpost.

I decided with a joker pick for day one, as Fantasy is not much of an AU for Dragon Age. I’ve never done a proper coffee shop AU, and I don’t know if this isn’t more of a pastry AU, but here it is.

Fandom: Dragon Age Words: 862

Solas x Iwyn Lavellan | Coffee shop AU | romance Rating: Teen (low T). Flirting, cuteness, pre-relationship, kissing, pastries.

“Tall mocha and a brownie for – Iwyn.” The barista’s voice is deep and warm, and he’s new. She would have noticed him if she’d seen him before. He has sharp cheekbones, a defined chin, and blue eyes. And he’s bald, which somehow accentuates all his features into something intense.

“Thanks,” she says, and grab her items.

“You should try to brownie from the bakery across the street. The ones here are just thawed from the factory.”

“I don’t think you should be telling me, but thanks.”

Iwyn wonders how long he will last here. He looks too old to work here, or not old enough. He looks like someone who would work at a hipster place downtown, one that roasts their own beans, not a chain like this.

The barista shrugs, and smiles, and it’s a nice smile.

She can’t help smiling back.

He doesn’t get fired, he’s there every morning when she stops by on her way to work. Solas works every weekday, except Friday, and in very short time he has her drink started as soon as she walks through the door. She sometimes picks up a treat for her afternoon break, and he keeps suggesting pastries from the bakery. She has to admit he is probably right, but they don’t serve coffee, and she doesn’t have time to stop by two places on her way to work.

They also talk about other things, and she learns that Solas is both opinionated and curious, and that he has very nice hands to go with his vey nice eyes and his very nice smile.

Iwyn is just finishing up and sending an email she had no desire to write, when she notices the unread email in her inbox.

FRONT DESK: Your visitor has checked in and is waiting you.

Visitor: Solas Wolfe

Here to see: Iwyn Lavellan

Check-in time: 15:07

Regards, reception at Millenium Park A

Solas? What is he doing here? Maybe she left something in the coffeeshop this morning? She has talked about her work, so it’s not surprise he knows to find her here. She can’t imagine what she could have forgotten that can’t wait until tomorrow. Her house has a keypad, she can’t even loose her keys.

She looks at her watch. 15:15. He might have left, and handed her stuff to Lace, the receptionist. Iwyn hurries to the stairs, she hopes he has stuck around. She enjoys seeing him in the morning, and the thought of seeing him again today makes her smile. Her heart beats a little faster.

He is still there when she comes down, and she nods at Lace, then turns to Solas.

“Hi Iwyn,” he says.

“Hi.”

“I thought it was a shame you never got to taste anything from Hill’s. The local bakery. I went to pick something up after my shift, and decided to bring you something too. I won’t take much of your time, I do know you are busy.”

Solas holds out a small bag, and she takes it with a thank you. Inside the bag are two tiny tarts, a lemon with a bit of meringue on top, and a raspberry one decorated with fresh berries and chocolate. They look delicious.

“They do look good,” she says. “I – you didn’t have to. Thank you, Solas.” No one has ever thought to bring her treats, just because. She’s used to doing things on her own. “I appreciate it, a lot,” she adds.

Solas shakes his head, and smiles.

“It was not any trouble.”

She doesn’t want to say goodbye, and she already thanked him, and Lace is scrambling with some papers behind her, and suddenly it’s awkward and too long time has passed. Solas is blushing a little, and fuck it, she really hopes she hasn’t misread him.

Iwyn steps forward and kisses him on the cheek.

He stiffens, and she panics, about to apologize, when he lets out a quiet sigh. He pulls her close, and kisses her on the mouth, hard and then softer. She kisses him back, and his lips are as wonderful as she imagined, and she opens her mouth easily, seeking more of him as he seeks her. His long body presses into her, hard and hot.

They’re interrupted by a low whistle from Lace, and they pull back, both of them out of breath. Solas is so close and she wants to kiss him again, and bite his lips.

“I have to go back to work,” she says.

“I understand,” he says. “I apologize, that was very rash of me. I –”

“Maybe we can meet on Saturday, and share some cakes from that bakery, and talk?”

“I’d like that,” Solas says. “I’d like that very much.”

They exchange phone numbers, and say their goodbyes. Iwyn wonders what kind of person kisses someone before they even know each other’s contact information, but she decides not to dwell on it.

She walks Solas out of the lobby, and when she returns, Lace has raised her eyebrows, her freckled face full of smiles and questions. She’ll have to share the cakes, she supposes, though Lace is not someone to spread gossip.

#au_gust_2020 #solavellan #solavellan fanfiction #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fanfic #solavellan fanfic #solas and iwyn #solas x iwyn #solas and iwyn flirting awkwardly #viking writes #published 8/1/2020

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flowerfan2 · 4 years ago

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Part of You Indefinitely - Ch. 6

David x Patrick, 18k so far, M, A03.

Summary: An accident sends Patrick to the hospital and terrifies David. What follows changes their relationship in ways David and Patrick never imagined. A story of love and its challenges.

Chapter 6

They’re in the car, on their way to physical therapy, when Patrick abruptly turns off the radio. “I need to tell you something.”

After their too short but still satisfying make-out session earlier this morning David doesn’t think Patrick’s about to ask for a divorce or anything, but it still doesn’t sound good.

“Okay,” he says, glancing over at Patrick, who is looking determinedly out the front window. “What’s up?”

“I haven’t been going to physical therapy.”

This is patently untrue. “Um, yes you have, I’ve been driving you there.”

“Yeah, but…” Patrick taps his hand on his knee. “I haven’t kept the appointments.”

“What, exactly, do you do after I drop you off?” Patrick has insisted on going inside by himself, and David has been spending the hour systematically trying out every half-decent coffee place in a five-mile radius from the hospital.

“I sit in the cafeteria.”

This is a strange revelation, and David takes a long breath, trying to keep an open mind.

He slows down and pulls over. One good thing about living in the sticks, there’s always a place to pull off the road. He tries to focus on a practical response, while his mind spins. “Okay, then… there’s not much point to this trip. It’s certainly not worth going to Elmdale for the coffee. Should we go home?”

Patrick looks at him. “You’re not mad?”

David does a quick mental inventory to be sure. He’s not mad. He’s confused, and actually a little impressed with Patrick’s out of character refusal to color within the lines, as ridiculous as that is. “Nope. Your body, your decision. Thank you for telling me.”

“Don’t you want to know why?”

David sighs, leaning his head back. “Of course I do. I want to know everything.”

“I’m not sure I can really tell you.”

<i>Then why did you ask?</i> David thinks. “Mkay.”

Patrick just sighs miserably.

“Ronnie thinks we’re going to break up,” David says, not sure where this comes from – it has been spinning around in his head all morning, but it seems like a non sequitur.

“Because we can’t talk to each other?” Patrick asks, and yeah, that’s how it fits in.

“Pretty much.”

“Do you think that?” Patrick asks. He looks small, and scared, and just as lost as David feels.

David thinks maybe it’s time to bring up the elephant in the room. “You know, there’s a thing couples do sometimes, when they’re having…”

“Problems?” Patrick suggests.

“Challenges.”

“You think we should go to counseling?”

David has been considering it. On the one hand, he’s not really interested in sitting on a couch with Patrick while some old white guy picks apart their relationship. On other hand, he’s really not interested in any universe where he and Patrick no longer sit on the same couch, so giving counseling a try is a risk he’s willing to take.

“Yes.”

Patrick breathes out slowly. “Okay. Then take me to PT. I don’t want to have to tell the counselor that I blew off another physical therapy session.”

*****

David has a feeling that Alexis convinces Dr. Lee to pull some strings, because they get an appointment with a couples’ counselor a few days later.

Margo is young, probably even younger than Patrick, and has several earrings in each ear. She’s not at all what David expected. Further, she’s quick and witty, and seems to understand what’s going on with them right from the start.

“Unfortunately, it’s not unusual to go through a period of depression after a trauma,” she says to Patrick, who looks like he’s ready to jump out of his skin. “Or for situational depression to have a detrimental effect on a relationship, especially where your partner is doing the lion’s share of the caregiving.” She goes on in this vein for a while until they are both calm enough to hear it, and encourages them to talk to each other after the session about what has been discussed.

But for all that things have been going better between them, they still can’t seem to delve into this stuff outside of Margo’s office.

At their next session, Margo asks them how their follow-up conversation went.

David tries to stop himself from rolling his eyes, but Margo calls him on it anyway.

“If we had been able to talk about it with each other we wouldn’t be here,” he says, trying to keep his voice light.

“Do you agree, Patrick?”

Patrick’s gaze has been firmly fixed on his hands since they arrived.

“I don’t know if talking about it will help,” he says finally. “I’m still…”. Patrick waves his hand vaguely at his legs. “Talking about it won’t change what happened.”

“But would knowing how David is feeling about it, how he’s feeling about you, and sharing your feelings with him, possibly affect your feelings and your mood?”

Patrick glances up at David, who tries to smile at him despite the inner terror he’s feeling. “I guess.”

David reaches over and grabs Patrick’s hand, trying to figure out the right thing to say. “I know the situation sucks, but you’re doing better all the time.” He looks at Margo and then back at Patrick. It’s awkward as hell, but David’s dealt with awkward before. “I love you, Patrick.”

Patrick remains silent. It makes David feel a little ill, to get no response at all to this.

David turns in towards Patrick, trying to block out his view of Margo. “Hey,” he whispers. “What’s going on? What do you need?”

A tear rolls down Patrick’s cheek, and David just sits there, momentarily paralyzed. This Patrick is so far away from the Patrick he knows, his confident, competent husband, and it scares him. David reaches out and puts his arms around Patrick’s shoulders, pressing Patrick’s head against his cheek. Patrick grabs him and squeezes back, hard, his face against David’s collarbone. This is good, David thinks, he said he likes it when I hug him. I can at least do this. He drops a kiss above Patrick’s ear, right by his scar, and holds on.

“This kind of thing can be hard to articulate,” Margo says. “Patrick, will you try to think about David’s question?”

Patrick straightens up and nods, wiping his face, and they move on to other topics. Margo asks David about how they are doing at home, taking the attention off of Patrick for a few minutes. Patrick chimes in after a while to talk about how he’s figured out how to coordinate with Johnny on the books for the store, doing some of the work himself and showing Johnny how to use his spreadsheets; David doesn’t mention how Patrick curses at the laptop when his hands get tired, or pretends that it’s fine when vendors leave him off their emails to David.

They don’t return to the topic of Patrick’s distress, but Patrick keeps a grip on David’s hand for the rest of the session. David doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, but at least it seems like Patrick wants him there for it, whatever it might be.

******

“My parents want to come visit,” Patrick announces one night over dinner.

David finishes his last bite of crab Rangoon. “When? I’ll reserve a room at the motel.”

“I didn’t say they were coming,” Patrick answers.

“Okay, that’s fine.”

Patrick blinks at him. Apparently he expected an argument. “You don’t think they should come?”

“Well, they’re your parents. And god knows I know what it’s like to want a little distance between oneself and one’s parents.”

“My mom keeps emailing me. She’s worried. She says she won’t be able to sleep until she sees me in person.”

David stabs his fork into the beef and broccoli. “You could zoom her. It might satisfy her for a while.”

Patrick considers this, then picks up his phone and starts typing.

“Why thank you, David, that’s a great idea,” David says, and Patrick laughs.

******

They’re in the car on their way home after a physical therapy session when Patrick clears his throat and says, “I was afraid it wouldn’t work.”

“Pardon?”

“PT. It’s supposed to get me back to normal, if it works. But it might not work, there’s no way to know how much things might improve, or not. So I didn’t want to go, because if I went and I did what they said and I still couldn’t relearn how to walk, then that’s it, it’s over. I’m in the chair forever.”

David’s heart stutters in his chest, and he opens his mouth to argue, but Patrick beats him to it.

“I know that’s not rational, but you deserve to know why I skipped my appointments. That’s why.”

David is still processing this when he feels his phone buzz repeatedly; Patrick’s does too.

“What’s going on now?” David wonders, hoping it will be about something less fraught than his husband’s all too understandable fears.

Patrick reads the texts as David focuses on driving. “Stevie’s stressed because our student intern unpacked a box of lip balms and got them all mixed up.”

David lets out his breath. This is a problem he can deal with. “Mixed up with what?”

“With each other. Apparently there are five or six different kinds listed on the invoice, but they all look the same-”

“Because they’re all-natural and don’t have any artificial coloring.”

“So Stevie can’t tell them apart, and so she can’t label them, and if they aren’t labeled, she can’t sell them.”

“Tell her to sniff them – but don’t take off the cap, then they’ll look used.”

“She says she tried that, but she still can’t tell which is which, and there are hundreds of them.”

David sighs. “Well that’s clearly an exaggeration, the box holds a gross.”

Patrick types, and then waits for Stevie’s reply. “She says there are two boxes.”

“Whatever. I suppose it’s no surprise that she’s hopeless at this. Tell her I’ll come in tomorrow. It’s Saturday, we don’t have to go to Elmdale, so I can get to the store early.”

“Maybe I’ll come too.”

It’s all David can do to keep his eyes on the road and not squeal with glee. He can’t help the smile that tugs at his mouth, though, or chancing a look at Patrick to see that he’s smiling softly too. Patrick hasn’t been to the store yet since his accident, and here he is volunteering to come in.

“Sure, that’d be nice. You never know what else Stevie’s messed up that we need to fix.”

The next morning they get up a little earlier than usual, David making sure to get the coffee going before he gets in the shower. When he comes out, Patrick is in his chair wearing one of his favorite blue button down shirts and his briefs. His jeans are down around his ankles.

“Don’t laugh,” Patrick says, and David assesses the situation, deciding that this time a joke might not actually lighten the mood.

“You could wear your sweats,” David says carefully. “No one would care.”

“This from the man who didn’t want me to wear sneakers to work.”

“I’d like to think we can make an exception to our dress code from time to time. We can write this one in right after the Stevie Budd flannel shirt amendment.”

Patrick is unconvinced. He tugs on the waistband of his jeans, but can’t get them up past his knees. Patrick has gotten much better at moving around, and hardly ever needs David’s help to get from their bed to his chair or vice versa, but this is a task he hasn’t tried yet. Luckily Patrick doesn’t seem too thrown by the unexpected challenge of putting on his jeans. “So, are you going to help me or what?”

“Happy to,” David says. It takes a little wrangling, but between the two of them they have Patrick fully dressed a few minutes later. David notices that Patrick has chosen not his Levis but a pair of jeans David bought him – designer, but subdued. They do great things for his ass. Not that Patrick’s ass is particularly visible from his chair, but still. David appreciates the effort.

The hair on the side of Patrick’s head is now long enough to cover the red scar over his left ear. Last week David gave him a trim so that both sides matched. It would be hard to tell that the left side had ever been shaved, if you didn’t know.

“You look great, honey,” David says, leaning down to kiss his husband. “And you smell good, too. Is that my aftershave?”

“Couldn’t find mine,” Patrick says, a light blush coloring his cheeks.

“Mmm, I like it.” David loops his arms around Patrick’s neck and breathes him in.

“Let’s go,” Patrick says.

“Okay, but it isn’t even eight o’clock. Do you want coffee, or something to eat? I could make French toast-”

“No – let’s just go.”

Patrick’s clearly nervous, but for once his nerves don’t seem to be accompanied by a side of bitchy apprehension. David will take it.

They park right in front of the store, and David moves as quickly as he can to get Patrick’s wheelchair out and the two of them inside. He’s pretty sure that no one spots them, although he wouldn’t really mind that much if Twyla came by with some breakfast. But it’s Patrick’s first time in town in the chair, and David would prefer for it not to be complicated with visits from random busybodies.

David’s been by the store a handful of times in the past few weeks, and he’s pleased to see that nothing looks too terribly out of place. He has made both Stevie and Jocelyn facetime him so he can supervise whenever they set out a new product, but it’s not the same as seeing it in person.

David can’t help but watch as Patrick wheels slowly around the store. It’s an odd sight, most of his body hidden from view as he moves past the display tables. Then Patrick pauses by the register. He can’t quite fit the wheelchair behind the counter, and even if he could, he’d be too low to work there very easily. David cringes – he should have thought of this and at least checked to make sure the place was accessible. He watches Patrick force a neutral expression on to his face, and it hurts to see it.

“We can move that,” David says, knowing he’s taking a risk by acknowledging the problem, but the store is Patrick’s baby too, and it’s just wrong that he can’t work the counter, or maneuver his chair into the small office space behind it.

“No, it’s fine,” Patrick says, backing himself out and turning around.

“We can sort the lip balms over here,” David says, clearing an already mostly empty space on an easier to reach back table.

“Yeah, okay.”

“And I’ll look for a new counter tonight. More of a table than a dresser.” Patrick needs to be able to get his legs underneath.

“It’s okay, David,” Patrick says, his voice tight.

“It’s not, actually,” David mutters. He lets the subject drop, and finds the two boxes of lip balms in the back room. They spread them out and start sorting.

It turns out it’s not quite as easy as David expected. Their best seller, honey vanilla, is easy to identify, as is the lavender sage. The apple rosemary is fairly individual as well, with a sweet fresh scent balanced by the deeper aroma of rosemary. But the last two – pear basil and cucumber thyme – seem to be almost identical.

After about an hour they have finished a first sweep through one box. The honey vanilla, lavender sage, and apple rosemary are all separated into baskets, ready to be labeled. But then there’s still a big pile of “not sures.”

“We could label them all cucumber pear,” Patrick suggests. “Cover all the bases.”

“Putting aside the fact that then we’d have to order new labels, that completely ignores the admittedly not very noticeable notes of basil and thyme.”

“Call them cucumber pear herb, maybe?”

“Why not just go with ‘fruit and/or vegetable’ and call it a day?” David sighs. It’s his own fault for letting this vendor get overly creative.

“’English garden’ might work,” Patrick says, smiling.

David laughs. “Natural beauty.”

“Nature.” Patrick takes a long sniff of one of the unknowns. “Just nature. Here, try it. It definitely smells like nature.”

“Hey kids, what’s so funny?”

They look up at the same time to find Stevie coming in the front door. She joins them in the back and examines the piles of lip balms, sniffing at each of them.

“You can’t tell them apart either, can you?” she asks mildly.

“Of course we can,” David says, at the same time Patrick replies, “Nope.”

Stevie grins and then pushes past David to hug Patrick. “Good to see you,” she says quietly, and hangs on to him for a long moment, her dark hair falling around Patrick’s face.

“Thanks.”

Stepping back, she surveys the scene. “Looks like you made some progress. Wanna take a break? I stopped by the café, and Twyla’s dying for you to come in.” She addresses this comment to Patrick, who gives David a panicked look.

Always good at reading a scene, Stevie backs off. “Or I could go pick us up something and we could eat here?”

“That would be great, Stevie,” David says, laying a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “We didn’t have a chance to eat before we left the house, and I’m famished.”

“Shocking,” Patrick says, and David has to hide a grin at Patrick’s inner little shit showing his face at last.

“Just for that, I won’t let you have any of my pancakes.”

#schitt's creek #schitt's creek fic #David Rose #Patrick Brewer #Hurt/Comfort #Stevie Budd

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purintarts · 5 years ago

Text

Han Jumin’s Luck and Prayers One Shot

(Any suggestions for a title? ^^; )

Using a wet tissue, I wipe the black stains under my eyes due to eyeliner. I put on my lipstick and fixed my hair with the hairbrush on the bathroom counter.

I always love Jumin’s bathroom, it has nice lighting and the mirror makes you feel good about yourself, no wonder Jumin always feels confident.

“Are you leaving already?”

The darked haired man leaned at the door frame wearing his dark blue pure cotton bath robe with white lining that was poorly tied so it revealed his bare chest and the length reached his knees.

“Yea, I have to go before it gets too late. I get sleepy on the road when I drive late night”

I stood up straight to see if everything looks good but obviously I won’t look as good as when I arrived but it was doable enough to hide the passionate moment you two just had.

Jumin came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, he buried his face into my neck as he let out a sigh.

“Why can’t you stay the night?”

“You want my parents to kill me?” I retorted

He propped his chin on my shoulder, staring into my eyes from the mirror. He looks like a young boy in a man’s body.

“I’ll talk to them”

“You are signing my death wish,” turning around I gave him a kiss on his lips, “I’m going now”

“Wait, let me change so I can send you down”

“I can go down myself”

“I insist”

Seeing the tall figure leave the bathroom, I leaned on the bathroom counter as my eyes never took off from his back.

He was never okay with doing this before marriage but well we weren’t even dating in the first place. After a session of drinking, things just got heated, well I made it heated. I was feeling sexually frustrated after not doing it for a while and there was an attractive man with me, could you blame me?

The Jumin that usually would refuse felt powerless in my hands and next thing you know, we did it.

That is how I took Han Jumin’s virginity.

Since then, Jumin was somehow released from his cage after experiencing something he wishes he had done earlier that he ended up asking for more.

We ended up doing around 2-4 days a week with several rounds each time. Since I’m living with my parents, I would come over to his house each time.

After the first time together when he came inside, I panicked as I told him I need to get a morning after pill. Seeing how frantic I look, the next time I came over, he had everything prepared.

Knowing him, he would not buy this himself so I wonder who was the poor soul who had to get those different types of condoms for their boss.

We’ve started doing this for the past 6 months now, time flies fast.

To be honest, I don’t know what we are.Every time I wish to bring it up, I feel embarrassed.

What if he finds me as a cheap woman who seduced him? The person that changed his ideals and broke his sacred rule.

What if the moment I asked, he goes away, taking a way the heaven that he granted upon me every time we are heated in his bed?

What if he feels disgusted to be with me?

What if this What if that

Letting out a deep sigh, I walked out from the bathroom to meet the man who was putting on a t-shirt. He looks sexy and elegant in his normal business suit but he looks cool and refreshing in a t-shirt.

Seeing him in casual clothing makes my lower region heat up.

“Let’s go”

I quickly left the bedroom before I ended up extending my time here.

“For the next party, I was thinking of inviting a couple of shareholders from a business partner’s company. They are involved in a lot of charity work. I’ll send their emails to you soon so you can send them invites to our next party,” Jumin stated.

“Yea sure, let me know”

We both stood in silence in the elevator ride down.

As the elevator reached the basement, Jumin walked me to my car and waited for me to heat up my engine as he leaned down at the driver’s door.

“When is your internship ending?” he asked

“Another couple of weeks”

“Let’s go to Bali afterwards, I have some business to attend there and maybe you might want a break”

“That’s considerate of you but I need to handle my internship report first and I’m not sure if it is an appropriate time…”

“It’s just for the weekend”

“Still… my parents. Going on a trip with just the two of us? Might not sound good to them”

Jumin let out another sigh.

“How can I convince your parents for you?”

“By marriage, I supposed” I let out a laugh.

It was true but me? Married to Jumin? I can barely hope for a relationship, what more of a marriage.

“Oh my engine is warm, I’ll see soon, Jumin!”

I put on my seatbelt and put my hand brake down.

“...Drive safe”

And so, I drove off.

As my internship ended, I couldn’t go to Bali as expected. My internship report has a lot to write and I only have 5 days till the submission. I also like to write everything in one go so the flow would be good so hence, a lot to write up in those span of 5 days not to mention the documents and feedback from my company that took a couple of days to process as well.

On the bright side, I’ll be graduating soon.

I might take a month of break before I pushed myself into the working force.

Jumin was disappointed that I couldn’t follow but he understood my responsibilities.

By the time I had completed the report, Jumin was already flying over back home.

Getting the text to meet up soon, my lips naturally curled up in a smile.

Maybe I should meet him tomorrow right after I submit the report?

Jumin: I can’t tomorrow, I am having dinner with my father.

Jumin: He said it might take a while due to some business discussions.

Jumin: Maybe the day after tomorrow?

How disappointing. Replying a “Yea, sure! Rest well”, I locked my phone and put it aside.

I’ll just meet him the day after.

I’m also excited after not meeting him after a week, a day more won’t hurt.

I ended up not meeting him on that day, or the next day.

I ended up not meeting him at all that week.

Han Jumin from the Han Corporate will be getting engaged to Park Boram, daughter of the Park Soohyun of the Park Corporate-

No wonder he was so busy.

Swallowing the pain in my heart, I finished the article before pressing the x button to close the window.

Two rich people from the same world, that’s good for them.

Park Boram looks like a beautiful lady from the picture in the article, they are both attractive.

From the outside and the backgrounds, they looked like the perfect couple.

I hope she loves him well because he deserves it, how lucky they are.

---

“When I meant I wish to get married, I don’t mean this, father!”

Jumin raked his hair back, he was so frustrated with his father at the moment. This is the most angry he had been with his father.

When he got back from Bali and his father wanted to have dinner with him, it was all going smoothly until his father asked him.

“Son, do you wish to get married?”

Jumin paused, right after you mentioned the word marriage, he was thinking about it every day and night.

Ever since you both shared the first night, he felt intense passion for you but he held himself back when you talked about how you wish to be married after you get a job and become more stable and now you want to focus on getting your degree and graduating.

But every time you were in his arms, he almost slipped out something about relationship but he knows he won't be satisfied with just a normal dating relationship, he wants more.

He wishes to tie you down to him.

You will be graduating soon and he thought about asking you if things went well.

The four diamonds with a big sapphire gem in the middle silver ring which was hidden in a velvet blue box in his safe was waiting for you.

He had bought that after 3 months, when he woke up from his nap with you. You were glowing in his eyes that right after he sent you back, he stopped by the jeweller.

Absolutely. He wants to marry you so badly.

“That’s wonderful!” his father rambled on.

Jumin got distracted by the thoughts of you saying yes and him slipping that ring on to your finger.

“Are you free tomorrow night? The Parks have arranged a dinner meeting tomorrow”

He wishes to meet up with you tomorrow but Jumin is sure it won’t end too late.

“Yea sure”

The dinner meeting ended at 11pm, too late for him to meet up with you. The next day, he was asked to help send Park Boram home after he had a meeting at the Park’s company, saying how he was along the way and as business partner he did his duty to be nice.

However, Park Boram ended up dragging him around, making him annoyed beyond measure. He didn’t know a woman could make him so drained just by dragging him around.

The next morning he received a call from his father how Park Boram liked him so much that she agreed.

“I see, that is good”

Agreed to what? Business proposal? Business agreement?

He will ask his Assistant Kang about it later, he is running late and he just wishes to end the phone call fast so he can rush out to make it to his meetings in time.

That afternoon, his phone was buzzing with notifications and that is when he saw it.

‘Han Jumin from the Han Corporate will be getting engaged to Park Boram, daughter of the Park Soohyun of the Park Corporate’

Han Jumin does not curse in public but the first thing he said when he checked his phone inside the full meeting hall he is in was;

“What the fuck?”

“You said so yourself! I asked if you wanted to get married and you said ‘yes, absolutely’ then I told you ‘Good, the parks wishes to meet you’ and you said ‘sure’. So we met them since they wish to meet you personally, and their daughter wishes to spend personal time with you so you agreed to send her back home. When I mention that Park Boram agrees you said ‘good’. I don’t see how this is my fault when you agreed to this whole ordeal?”

His father furrowed his eyebrows at him.

That's all it was about?

Jumin thought it was some kind of business proposal not marriage proposal

“Cancel the engagement, father”

“Are you crazy? The Park’s image! OUR image! You can’t simply just cancel an engagement!”

Jumin felt a headache coming in.

He needs to get his shit together or that ring in his safe will not make it to your finger.

Oh lord, help him.

I felt sick.

It was the third time I vomited this morning.

Did I eat something wrong?

Laying down on the bed, I message my mom that I wasn’t feeling well and that I am going to the clinic just in case she is wondering where I went when she gets home from her breakfast session with her friends.

Reaching the clinic, I waited at the waiting room. There were a lot of people today, so I played with my phone.

Opening my period calendar, it’s been 11 days since I last got together with Jumin.

He hasn't been texting me either since he got back from Bali 6 days ago. He hasn't replied in the group chat, not even when everyone including me, congratulate him in the group.

Scrolling up, we did it quite often and I am feeling a bit frustrated at the moment after the abrupt changes but I can’t go and search for him now-

Wait a minute…

Has it been 5 weeks since I last had my period?

I’m late for 2 weeks.

I can feel myself turning pale and going tense.

“Shit”

I grabbed my back and ran out of the clinic and went to the pharmacy. I took a couple of pregnancy tests and went to the nearest public toilet which was at the gas station.

I can’t risk taking it at my house with my parents there, it’s too dangerous.

I did as the instructions said and waited.

Hoping that no girl will need to use the toilet.

The wait was so stressful but the results broke my heart into pieces.

Double line

Both of them showed a double line.

I broke down, crying alone in the middle of the gas station’s toilet.

Hearing a knock, I quickly cleaned myself up to leave, muttering a small apology to the annoyed girl in front of the bathroom and rushed to my car.

What now?

Jumin was tired. He’s been racking his brain for the past 3 days and he doesn’t know what to do. He may be good in business stuff but for life stuff, he is clueless.

He is a brilliant man but he is also dense in this kind of stuff.

He wishes you were here with him to tell him what to do but he wasn’t sure if it was right and his best friend is M.I.A once again.

Always gone when someone needs him.

He sighed as his driver pulls in to the parking spot, just as he feel the fatigue seeping in it was gone when he saw you were standing at the elevator entrance.

What is she doing here?

Jumin checked his phone and noticed there were no messages from you. He knew something was wrong so he rushed out.

---

I didn’t know where to go.

I was scared to go home and I was so scared to call Jumin but I ended up in his basement parking, crying my eyes out inside the car, waiting for him to come home.

It is barely afternoon so I knew he won’t be home anytime soon.

I waited for a couple of hours and went out to get food because I was hungry and came back, forcing myself to eat even though I have no appetite.

I took a couple of naps waiting for him when I’m tired or thinking.

I wonder how it happened… We were always careful.

Sure we did unprotected ones every now and then but that is when my period calendar says I’m having a low chance unless…

Was it the day when he accidentally came inside again?

But I took the morning after pill that time as well...

I snapped out of my thoughts when I saw his car rolling in.

He came home early.

Thank the gods.

I quickly rushed out and stood at the elevator entrance, my arms crossed as I waited tensely. I feel the anxiety creeping in that I just feel like running away.

He needs to know or at least he needs to tell me what to do.

I don’t know what to do.

Jumin rushed to me, calling out my name.

“What happened? Is everything alright?” Jumin looked so worried that I couldn’t help but to throw my arms around his torso.

“We- We need to talk”

---

He sat me down on his sofa and gave me a glass of water.

Taking his coat off and setting it aside, Jumin rolled his sleeves up and currently donning only his shirt and vest, as he sat down beside me.

“What’s wrong?” Jumin softly asked as he brushed my hair back.

Finishing the glass of water, I slammed the glass down to so-called give myself some strength and determination.

“Jumin… I know you are engaged but I need to let you know this before-hand. I fear that it may cause you and your future wife problems so I just need to tell you and I need you to let me know what I have to do and I’ll do it”

I look over to him and hold his hand, taking a deep breath.

“Jumin, I’m- I’m pregnant”

I can feel Jumin freezing up in his spot, his body was tense.

“I thought of keeping it a secret from you but if I ended up having the baby then later on it will cause you and your new wife problems. Then again I don’t even have money for the baby- oh god my parents will kill me- I thought an abortion will be the only way but-”

“Abortion? Why are you having an abortion?” Jumin snapped out from his thoughts.

“Because I’m pregnant? With your baby? Your wife won’t be happy to hear about an illegitimate child and I don’t have a proper income and no I am not asking you to pay-”

I got cut off when he smashed his lips onto mine. His arm snaked around my waist as he pulled my close to him, hugging me so tightly as he kissed me with so much passion that it made me fell in love with him all over again.

“Say it again” he whispered between the kisses.

“I’m getting an abortion?”

“No no, before that!”

“My parents will kill me?”

Jumin facepalmed himself.

“No, the part where you are pregnant with my baby”

“I am pregnant with your baby?”

Jumin suddenly stood up and scooped me into his arms.

“Ju-Jumin!”

Jumin carried me into his bedroom and laid me down on his bed before he crawled towards me, trapping me under him.

“You are pregnant with my baby”

“Yes… I am? Jumin, what are you-”

He leaned down and kissed me again. The kiss was so intense.

Jumin hardly let me breath before he claimed my lips again.

“Do we… Can we do it? Will it affect the baby if we do it?” Jumin muttered.

“Jumin!”

I pushed him away as I scrambled to sit near the headboard, trying to create some distance which obviously made him frown.

“You are engaged! You are getting married! Engaged men don’t do this with other girls!”

“You are not other girls”

“I am not your fiancee! God, Jumin! Your fiancee will be disappointed!”

“Then good for her”

Jumin rolled his eyes as he crawled to me.

“Jumin! No! I do not wish to sleep with an engaged man!”

I closed my eyes and took a pillow to shield me from him.

Jumin let out a sigh, taking the pillow away. His other hand pulled my shirt up as he leaned down to place a kiss on my stomach.

“Child, your mother won’t make love to me. Your father is very upset”

“Jumin!”

He leaned back up and placed another kiss on my lips.

“It is arranged,” Jumin sit beside me before pulling me into his chest, “the engagement is arranged. It started off from a misunderstanding and I’m trying to annul the engagement”

He kissed the top of my head.

“I’m stressing out to think of a way out and luckily the gods heard my prayers and this little thing here,” he put a palm on my bare stomach, “Just showed me the way out”

He kissed my forehead, my nose and my cheek.

“Wait, you are not angry?”

Jumin laughed as he hugged me tighter.

“The woman I love and who I truly wish to marry just told me she is pregnant with my child, why should I be angry?”

His sentence stunned me.

What did he say?

“Ah wait a moment”

Jumin got off the bed and ran out of the room, leaving me alone to my thoughts.

What did he mean by the woman I love?

He loves me?

So many thoughts came to mind including his arranged engagement and how our future will be like.

Jumin came into the room and held out his hand before leading me to the side of the bed.

Suddenly, he got on one knee and revealed the most beautiful ring that I have ever seen.

“Will you marry me?”

My tears fell once again as I hugged my arms around his neck.

“Yes,” I sobbed “I do”

Jumin’s smile was so bright that you yourself can feel happy from his happiness.

He slipped the ring onto my finger and came up to kiss me.

I pulled him close and I won’t be letting go any time soon.

BONUS:

“Jumin! You can’t just annul the engagement!” His father harshly spoke.

“I can, I have a solid reason. My lover is pregnant with my child, I will be a father and congratulations father, you will soon be a grandfather,” Jumin grinned as he patted his father’s shoulder.

His father’s angry face turned to a big surprise.

“What do you mean you have a lover?! Me? Grandfather?!”

“Yes, that is why you must annul the engagement”

“How did you make a baby so fast within these few days?! It is not possible!”

“Father, she is over a month pregnant”

Jumin sighed. Did his father think he got you pregnant right after the engagement announcement.

“YOU HAD A LOVER SINCE THEN?!”

Is it so surprising that I have a woman?

Jumin wondered.

---

‘Jumin Han from Han Corporate engaged but not to Boram Park’

‘Jumin Han’s fiancee: Who is she?’

‘Jumin Han and his fiancee: Wedding date to be set in 2 weeks time’

‘Jumin Han is now off the market’

‘EXCLUSIVE PHOTOS: Jumin Han’s wedding’

‘Jumin Han and wife spotted on honeymoon’

‘Shotgun wedding of the Hans: is there a reason?’

I chuckled as I read the headlines today. They listed such amusing reasons, some are a bit critical but one of the reasons was correct.

The ring twinkled when it hit the ray of sun as I put my hand on my protruding belly. I am currently in my fifth month.

“Your tea,” Jumin handed me a cup of peppermint tea as he took a seat beside me, sipping into his own cup of tea.

“What were you laughing at?”

“An article about the assumed reasons why we had a shotgun wedding”

Jumin hummed as he rested his chin on my shoulder as his arm wrapped around me.

“Were they correct?”

“Only the part that I got knocked up by you”

Jumin chuckled, pecking my cheek.

“And?”

“And what?”

“No other reason that was correct?”

“Like what?”

“I’m in love with you?”

I hummed as I tapped my finger on my chin.

“Do you love me because of me or do you love me because I took your virginity?”

I teased making the man laugh.

“Both”

#mystic messenger #han jumin #jumin han #purintarts

53 notes · View notes

rohad93 · 5 years ago

Text

Authority Online: ch 7

"I don't know…"

"Oh, come on, Celeste. She'd be perfect for the job." Rose insisted.

It was about 11:30 on Monday morning and since there was no school for some holiday or another Celeste couldn't remember, Rose and Steven had parked themselves in the bakery kitchen while she worked for the day.

Out of the two of them, it was the one that was expected to be in the way the least that was the most in the way.

Rose had plopped herself on an empty counter, talking about this and that while Steven sat in the corner at his spot, coloring quietly.

She'd mentioned that she was going to start looking for a second assistant after talking it over with Sky who had agreed to oversee the new trainee when she couldn't.

Rose had immediately suggested a friend who was also a teacher and had been looking for some part-time weekend and evening work.

"She's a bona fide type A personality… honestly, she probably has OCD I think, either way, she'd be perfect for this," she insisted.

Celeste hummed noncommittally as she mixed together a batch of ingredients.

"At least talk to her. I really think she is what you're looking for." Rose wheedled.

"Fine, fine. If you give me her number I will call her," she finally acquiesced.

Rose grinned and typed out the number on her phone and sent it to her sister who felt the device vibrate in her pocket and rolled her eyes, but said nothing. Sometimes it was just easier to give in to the exuberant younger woman’s whims than to fight it.

‘So…” Rose started, resting her chin in her palms and looking slyly over to her, and Celeste had a good idea of what was coming. “have you heard from your new girlfriend yet?” She grinned at the annoyed look on her older sister’s face, but especially at the faint pink color, her ears were turning.

“I’m not sure I’d call her my ‘girlfriend’ just yet...” Celeste mumbled, starring much too intently into the bowl of batter she was mixing.”... and no, not yet.”

Rose hummed and kicked her feet back and forth.

“Maybe you should text her? Whose job is it to call first in a lesbian relationship?” She cocked her head curiously.

“Rose…” Celeste rolled her eyes.

“What? I don’t know. Is there a guide to this?” she asked with a laugh.

“There’s a class. It’s extracurricular in college and if you fail you don’t get your lesbian license.” Celeste quipped as she moved to pour the batter into the prepared cake pans.

Rose stuck her tongue out at her back.

“What exactly does that license qualify you to operate? A motorboat?

"Oh my god!” Celeste turned to her, face a bright pink as Rose giggled uncontrollably. It took a good three minutes for her to stop looking at Celeste’s flushed face and not start all over again. Celeste turned and ignored the giggling school teacher until she had finished.

“Heh, anyway, why don’t you text her? I thought you liked her?”

“I do like her, but I also don’t want to come off overeager or something.”

“There’s nothing wrong with letting someone you like know you like them and want to see them.” Rose’s voice turned more serious. Steven took the opportunity to trot over with a drawing.

“Look!” He held up the picture and smiled that gapped tooth smile. Showing them a stick figure with a mullet and guitar. “It’s dad.”

“That’s lovely, sweetie.” When he gets home this weekend you’ll have to show him.” She smiled, pinching his cheek and making him giggle.

“This job lasts all week?” She asked, surprised. Rose nodded.

“He hates to be gone so long, but it pays well.” She frowned with a shrug.

“He’ll be home before you know it.” Celeste smiled reassuringly at her sister who nodded.

It was then that Sky popped her head into the back.

“There’s a delivery in the lobby,” was all she said before disappearing back out front.

“I don’t have any deliveries scheduled for today.” Celeste frowned, forehead wrinkling in confusion as she wiped her hands on her apron and walked out front.

Rose followed her out and gasped.

Sitting on the countertop was a black vase of bright white lilies with pale blue centers.

“I think Greg sent you some flowers.” Celeste smiled as Rose moved forward to inspect the flowers.

“Oh wow, blue heart Lilly’s.” She leaned forward to smell them and pulled out the little card nestled between the petals. “Weird though, he usually sends me roses… he’s clever like that.” She joked, looking over her shoulder at Celeste and Sky who only giggled before looking down at the card and her eyebrows shot up before she turned to her sister with a devious grin.

“These are for you.” She held out the little card and Sky grinned along with the teacher.

“What?” It was Celeste’s turn to look surprised, face turning colors again. She walked up to the counter and took the little paper card.

Celeste,

Have a good week.

~Jaune

“Well…,” Rose was grinning at her. “...not the most romantic sentiment, but at least she knows how to let someone know she likes them.” Rose laughed.

Celeste reached out and ran her fingers over the delicate petals. They were beautiful and she couldn’t stop the smile that was pulling at her lips even if she wanted to.

~ ~ ~

Jaune sat at her desk, hunched over her laptop, clicking through a long list of emails, determining at a glance which were garbage and which were actually important.

So far her inbox was filled with garbage.

Clients constantly asking for updates on their cases.

Once a week? Fine, doable.

Every. Damn. Day?

No.

Anyone she talked to Friday went into the garbage today. This usually freed up her inbox for actually important emails.

Today however it seemed, would be a slow day. Once the garbage was gone there was nothing left of importance for her to look at.

There were no updates on any of her cases and no clients to meet with for once.

It seemed that she found herself in possession in one of her rare days where there was nothing pressing to do.

Normally she would have been elated by the brief break, today however she was chomping at the bit for something to do.

She had ordered those flowers first thing this morning and afterward doubted whether or not she should have done it. She certainly didn’t want to come on too strong but she also wanted to make her interest clear.

She glanced at her watch. Fifteen till twelve. They would have been delivered by now and she tapped her foot agitatedly.

For all the times for there to be no work to bury herself in, of course, it would be now when she needed it most.

She still needed to talk to her mother about the little stunt she had pulled Saturday, but she just could not get up enough energy for that fight right now and had been in far too good a mood when she had gotten back home after dinner.

She supposed she could get a head start on some things she would need tomorrow.

Five minutes into writing up some papers for a meeting she had tomorrow her phone buzzed and she reached for it distractedly, only glancing at the screen before doing a quick double take.

It was a text from Celeste.

Jaune would never admit that she felt nervous as she opened the message.

“Do you like turkey sandwiches?”

Jaune stared long and hard at the text, blinking.

~ ~ ~

When she pulled up in front of the bakery the sign was flipped to closed and no one was inside, but the door opened when she pulled on the handle, making the bells jingle.

Celeste’s head popped around the doorway to the kitchen and she smiled brightly at the sight of the lawyer, whose stomach flipped at the beautiful smile aimed at her.

“Hey…” She walked around the corner, wearing a dark blue apron covered in splotches of flour and a variety of batters, her hair pulled up into a bun and Jaune couldn’t help but admire her beauty.

Saturday night she had been undeniably breathtaking, but there was something genuine in the way she looked now that was equally attractive to the lawyer.

“Hey…” She cleared her throat when she realized she had been staring and the knowing little smile that had moved onto Celetes face said she had indeed noticed.

“Come on back.” She nodded and went back into the kitchen with Jaune following.

The bakeries kitchen smelled of various baking goods and it made the lawyer’s stomach growl.

Loudly enough that she heard Celeste’s stifled giggle and flushed.

“Have a seat.” She gestured to the stools placed around the butcher block table in the corner where only twenty minutes ago her nephew had been coloring before Rose had swept him upstairs with her, giving her a knowing look, as had Sky when she sent her on her lunch break.

“Are you certain you weren’t busy?” she asked, going over to another counter and picked up two plates.

“My office was positively dead for once.” Jaune assured her as she slid off the black sports coat and sat, laying it in her lap, leaving her in the white button down. “Also, my PA has instructions to call me if anything that really requires my attention comes up.”

Which was true, but Jaune didn’t mention that she had turned her phone off the moment she’d gotten in her car, having no intention of taking any calls or texts.

A plate was set in front of her and the turkey sandwich on a croissant looked picture perfect and her hunger returned full force.

“Thank you.” She smiled appreciatively at Celeste as she sat down across from her with her own plate.

“I should be thanking you. The flowers are beautiful, you shouldn’t have.” She was giving the blond a warm look that immediately made her stomach twist.

Yes, the flowers had definitely been a good idea.

“It was nothing.” She ran a hand through her short blonde locks. Something Celeste had quickly picked up on as being a nervous habit it seemed and her smile widened. For all Jaune’s serious stociness, she was incredibly easy to fluster.

Something she found endlessly endearing.

“I appreciate it nonetheless, so thank you.” She was smiling at the blonde from beneath her lashes and Jaune felt like her tongue was too swollen to talk at the look.

“You’re welcome…” She managed before Celeste, mercifully, moved those bright cobalt eyes off of her, turning them to the food. She breathed a sigh of relief and picked up her own food.

She wasn’t sure if it was her infatuation with the baker or was this really the best sandwich she’d ever had? Just the fact that the croissant was still warm told her that the woman across from her had baked these.

They chatted quietly in the nearly otherwise silent kitchen, occasionally an oven timer went off and Celeste would hurry over to check on whatever was making all the wonderful aromas in the air.

"It seems you might be the one who's busy.” She commented.

“Oh, no.” Celeste assured her with a wave. “This is just, everyday.” She shrugged and sat back down, picking up her sandwich.

She was nearly finished tearing through the food when she heard the small giggle and looked up to see Celeste looking at her with a little grin.

“What?” She blinked.

“You have mustard on your face,” she chuckled, pointing at the corner of her own mouth. “Let me get you a napkin.” She walked over to the counter and suddenly there was a commotion in the stairwell of crying and thundering steps.

Suddenly Steven appeared, crying at the top of his lungs…

And completely naked and splattered with mud.

The six year old tore through the kitchen as Rose hit the bottom of the staircase.

“Steven! You are getting a bath!” she yelled, chasing the boy and suddenly seeing her sister and the lawyer, flushed brightly.

“I’m sorry, pretend we’re not here!” she yelled as she chased her son out into the store front, his screaming echoing through the building.

“I don’t want a bath!”

“Well, that might be difficult…” Jaune mumbled, watching the spectacle with wide eyes.

Only a few seconds later the boy was back with his mother hot on his heels.

Celeste jumped in, trying to cut him off but at seeing her, he ducked under a table as he weaved around the kitchen equipment, still crying and screeching as he eluded his mother and aunt.

After a full minute of this he turned sharply, running along her side of the kitchen. Just as he ran past the table Jaune whipped the blazer off her knees and snatched the boy up in it, cocooning him in her arms as he flailed and wailed.

“Thank you…” Rose huffed, trying to get her breath back as she walked up to them and wrangled the boy out of the suit jacket.

He continued to cry even as she took a tight hold on him and quickly sent Celeste an apologetic look before hurrying back upstairs with her tearful son.

Jaune inspected the garment and frowned.

The once pristine white lining was now spotted with mud and dirt. As well as a yellow smudge of mustard on the outside, having been wiped off her face when the boy was thrashing around.

Unfortunately, Celeste also saw the state of the coat.

“I'm so sorry, Jaune. Please, let me have it cleaned.” She offered, stepping forward and looking almost pained.

An expression that Jaune couldn’t stand on the woman's face.

“Don’t be sorry. I spilled coffee on the sleeve this morning and intended to have it dry cleaned regardless.” She tried to reassure the distraught looking baker but she continued to frown, hands clasped together at her waist. Reaching out she laid a gentle hand on the two clasped ones. “Really, it's fine, Celeste.”

She still didn’t look happy but she nodded.

“If you’re sure…,” she trailed off.

“I am.” She nodded.

When they finished eating she turned her phone back on to see several missed calls and a few emails. She needed to get back to the office.

Celeste walked her out to the front, her ruined suit jacket hanging in the crook of her arm, she laid it in the back seat of her car and closed the door, before rolling up her sleeves.

Might as well make her new look appear intentional.

She turned back to see Celeste, biting her bottom lip and although the sight did something wholly inappropriate to her she knew the face wasn’t a good thing just by the look of her eyes. She was still fretting over the coat.

“Are you busy this weekend?” she asked, stepping away from the car and closer to Celeste, who looked up at her with those seemingly bottomless pools of blue.

With Celeste in flats and Jaune in her heels, their already noticeable height difference was blown to even greater disproportions.

“I’m not. Did you have something in mind?”

“Not yet… but I was hoping to see you anyway,” she said and the smile that appeared on the bakers face, along with the tinge of a blush on her cheeks was enough to dispel any lingering doubts she might have had about Celeste’s own feelings toward her.

“Well, when you figure it out, I can be free anytime after 4pm on Saturday,” the flirtatious tone made Jaune grin even as it made her knees weak.

“I’ll text you.” She stepped off the curb to walk around to the drivers side door when the shop's front door opened, the bells jingling.

“Hold up one second, please.” Rose stepped out with a clean and clothed Steven in her arms. She walked over to the car and set him down on the edge of the curb at the lawyers feet. “Steven has something to say.” She looked up at the blonde, with her own apologetic face.

Even standing off the curb, in her heels she towered over the boy who was frowning mightily with his head ducked.

He looked back at his mother, who gave him a very stern look, hands on her hips. He turned back around to look up at the blonde with his downcast face.

“I’m sorry I got your shirt dirty, miss tall lady.” He mumbled, looking up at her from beneath his mop of curly black hair, truly contrite.

It was all the sisters could do not to crack up at that. Rose hit her lip and Celeste slapped a hand over her mouth.

Jaune kept a remarkably straight face though.

“It’s alright, no harm done this time.” She patted the boys head before lifting a hand in goodbye to the two women and climbing in her car and driving off.

Once she was gone Rose shooed her son inside and turned around to face her sister.

“I. Am. So. Sorry!” She grimaced. “Would she let me pay to have it cleaned?” the teacher asked. “I feel awful. We ruined your lunch date...and part of her suit, her very expensive looking suit!” she fretted.

“It’s alright, Rose. She wasn’t upset...,well, by the look on her face, she wasn’t happy, but she wasn’t upset and I offered but she wouldn’t let me have it cleaned either. You didn’t ruin anything either. Actually, we're going out again sometime this weekend.” She smiled as they moved back inside the bakery.

“I’m glad” She let out a sigh of relief that she hadn’t ended her sister’s relationship before it ever really got started. “I guess she really likes you.” Rose smirked at the far off look on her sister’s face.

“I really like her too.” She smiled, flipping the open sign on the front door.

#bellow diamond #blue diamond #yellow diamond #AU #humanAU #white diamond #steven universe #SU #fic #Authority Online

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