#still waiting around for an author to lean into that particular age gap

[triviareads]

when an author whose book you reviewed makes a reel to the tune of a taylor swift song about how *some* people are shocked when they find out her romance novel is closed door but she knows the "right" readers will find it—

[kaleldobrev]

Daddy in a Different Way

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: A simple misunderstanding leads an older woman to believe that you and Jack are together, not you and Dean. But Dean does a “very good job” at clearing things up...But maybe not in the best way.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Age Gap, Light Smut, Daddy kink (if you squint)

Authors Note: Takes place in the same universe as Old Man | Flashbacks are in italics | Even though it’s light smut 18+ only please | MDNI | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You grabbed your black leather crossbody handbag from the hook next to the floor length mirror that Dean had installed in your shared room about two months after you had moved in.

“Our room is missing something.” You stated as you rolled onto your side, propping yourself up with your elbow and the palm of your hand.

“Oh yeah?” Dean asked, his eyes were still closed, not yet wanting to fully commit to waking up just yet. “What’s that Princess?”

“Floor length mirror.” Your tone serious.

Dean’s eyes shot open, automatically looking at you. “You’re serious?” He asked, not actually wanting you to answer.

You gave him your ‘of course I’m serious Dean’ face, followed by a simple smile. “It’s one mirror Dean.” You said, as you started to trace your pointer finger on his bare chest. “It’s the least you can do.” You paused, tilting his chin toward you. “I’ll make it worth your while.” You leaned in, barely brushing your bottom lip on his.

“You don’t have to owe me anything Sweetheart. You know I can’t say no to you.” He replied, closing the gap between you and kissed you.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you heard Dean come into the room. Seeing him come up behind you, you gave me a soft smile. “You look beautiful today, Sunshine.” His compliment genuine. Wrapping his arms around your waist, you placed your hands on his arms, enjoying the embrace that he had around you. His chin found itself on your bare shoulder before he gave your neck a somewhat seductive like kiss that sent a shiver down your spine. “You and sundresses always do it for me. I don’t know why.” The sundress that you were currently wearing in particular happened to be Dean’s favorite on you, even though he loved every single one that you owned. But for some reason, this sage colored one seemed to be one that he gravitated toward the most.

“I think you like the easy access that they give you.” You turned your head toward him, meeting his gaze; your lips inches away from each other, slightly smelling his spearmint toothpaste.

“That’s one of the reasons.” He confessed, gently starting to lift your dress up. He had gotten pretty far, getting to the point where you could see the waistband of your panties – green lace, the same color as your dress. One of Dean’s fingers found its way into the waistband, and your breath hitched, waiting for the contact that you were craving, despite just having sex with him a few hours before. Yours and his lips touched then, the kiss feeling just as needy and desperate as it was a couple hours before. Dean added another finger as he was hovering over your clit.

“Dean…” You moaned, his two fingers finally making contact as they barely dipped inside you.

“Aw Sweetheart, you’re wet ready?” He voice sounded like honey to you in that moment. “Was this morning not enough for you?” He smirked, slightly feeling how hard he already was against your ass.

“Clearly it wasn’t enough for you either handsome.” Your lips curving into a smirk. You started to move your hand behind you now, gently palming the front of his jeans.

“I’m ready to go when you two are.” Jack said, as you were midway through unzipping Dean’s pants. You and Dean froze in place for a moment, feeling yourself tense up around Dean’s fingers.

“Dammit.” Dean said, his voice sounding more frustrated than he probably intended it to be. He removed his fingers along with his embrace around you; your dress falling back into place.

Jack looked between the two of you, confused at Dean’s reaction. All of a sudden, realization hit them. “Oh.” Jack simply said. “You two were in the middle of having sex and I interrupted.”

You turned to face Jack, ready to say something to them, but Dean was the first one to talk. “We…We weren’t having sex Jack but…we were…being…intimate.”

“With the door open?” Jack asked. Their point was valid, but at the same time, you also weren’t expecting Dean to come up behind you and start fingering you.

“You didn’t see anything right?” You asked. Not that you were embarrassed if Jack had seen anything, but you also didn’t feel like explaining every single sexual thing that you and Dean had done right now to them. To your relief, Jack shook their head, indicating that they in fact didn’t see anything that you two had done.

“Does this mean you two are going to have sex when we get back?” Jack asked, very bluntly.

Dean walked over to Jack, placing the hand that he didn’t use on you, and patted Jack’s shoulder. “Oh, you bet we are.” He winked, before walking out of the room, leaving just you and Jack.

The drive to Target went by quickly, the entire drive filled with song after song that you had requested, as you were the only one besides Dean who had any say in the music that was to be listened to or enjoyed in Baby. “You’re the only shotgun that will always have a say.” Dean once told you.

Once Dean parked Baby, the three of you got out and made your way into the store. Getting inside, you grabbed a shopping cart, despite the fact that you knew you probably didn’t need it; but it was just a force of habit that you did each time you walked into the store, much to Dean’s dismay. “Can I push the cart?” Jack asked, a childish type smile on their face.

“Of course.” You gave them a smile back, releasing your hands from the cart so they could start pushing it. You didn’t know why, but you had loved seeing the enjoyment on Jack’s face when you had told them they could push the cart. With everything that has happened over the years, it was nice to see someone get excited over something so simple.

With no use for your hands now, you went to hold the strap of your crossbody. Seeing this, Dean held out one of his hands. “Hold my hand so you don’t get lost.” He teased. You playfully swatted his arm before taking his hand.

“This is so cute.” You said, grabbing a graphic tree from one of the racks and showed it to Jack. “Do you like this? I think it would look nice on you.” The shirt that you held in your hands was a nice mint color and had an array of different succulents.

“While you two do this, I’m gonna go look at the flannels.” Dean pointed to the small variety of mainly red flannels a few feet away.

“Dean, it’s July…in Kansas.” Kansas in July was honestly one of the worst months. It was always over 100 degrees, and the feels like made it 10 degrees warmer than that; and let’s not forget about the humidity: that was the worst part. Whenever you had left the comfortableness of the Bunker, you instantly felt like you were melting, despite the minimal clothing sometimes you left the Bunker in to try and conquer the Kansas heat.

“It’s always flannel season Sweetheart.” Dean smiled before leaving you and Jack in the graphic tee section.

You let out a frustrated sigh. You were happy to at least convince Dean not to wear his usual jacket today, even if he was still wearing Timberlands and jeans. Before you had met him, him along with Sam would tell you how they both wore jackets no matter the weather, and that honestly baffled you. You had no idea how two grown men would willingly wear heavy jackets in summer, let alone summer in Kansas no less. After you had become more of a stable being in his life, and the other boys lives, you had found yourself gently – sometimes aggressively – convincing Dean that maybe wearing a heavy ass leather jacket in 100 degree weather wasn’t the smartest move; that it was okay to wear a t-shirt and shorts. He had worn shorts in the Bunker, but refused to wear them outside; the place that you had told him that he needed to wear them. “I don’t want people staring at my legs.” He told you.

“I don’t believe flannel is a season.” Jack commented, interrupting your train of thought. “It’s a material last time I checked.” You adored Jack’s slight innocence at times like these.

“You would be correct. But, wearing any kind of flannel, despite a heat wave, is a long-standing Winchester tradition.” You held up the shirt again, holding it up against Jack’s body so you could try and imagine what it would look like on them without having to try it on in the store; something you knew Jack would be uncomfortable with doing. “I think you’d look cute in this.” You nodded to yourself and placed the t-shirt in the cart.

“Can I pick something out for you?” Jack asked.

“Sure. Let’s see what you got.” You smiled, both of you turning around to look at the rack.

As Jack looked through the t-shirts trying to find one that they thought you would like, you couldn’t help but look over at Dean who had quite a few flannels draped over his arm that he would be able to add to his ever growing collection; a few even looked to be in your size, something that made you smile. “I think you’d look nice in this one.” Jack said, holding out the black t-shirt for you to see. It was faded black in color and had the logo for one of your favorite bands: The Clash. “A very fine choice Jack.” You smiled.

Jack handed you the shirt and you placed it in the cart. “Can we listen to them when we get home? Or are you and Dean going to have sex?” Jack asked bluntly, but quiet enough so only you would be able to hear the question.

You placed your hand on Jack’s shoulder. “I’ll tell you what, we can listen to them on the drive home. How does that sound?” You smiled, coming up with a compromise that you knew they’d be good with. Jack nodded, liking your compromise.

“Well aren’t you two just the cutest.” An older woman who appeared to be in her mid to late 70s said. At first, you and Jack looked around to see if she was talking about anyone else that was around you, but the two of you were the only ones in sight. Seeing you two looking around, she laughed gently, amused. “Yes, I’m talking about you two.” She walked closer to you. “How long have you cuties been together?”

“Oh, we’re not together.” You stated.

The woman gave you and Jack a rather confused expression, as if she didn’t understand why you had said you two weren’t together. “Oh sweetie, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Trust me,” she leaned in to whisper, so only you could hear her. “I know true love when I see it.” You couldn’t help but give her a wide-eyed expression. “I used to look at my Harold like that.”

“We aren’t together.” You firmly said again. You looked over at Jack who simply just held their hands on the shopping cart, trying their best not to make eye contact with the woman. You knew that they were starting to get uncomfortable. “We get it all the time though.” You stated. Which was true. Whenever you and Jack did things together without Dean, it almost seemed like you and Jack were together given the fact that you two relatively appeared to be the same age, despite you being a few years older than they were. “I’m actually with that handsome man over there.” You directed her attention to Dean, who was currently holding up an interesting looking colored flannel with a disgusted look on his face. You had never seen a man look so disgusted while looking at flannels before.

The older woman turned back to you after looking over at Dean. “Sweetie, there’s no way. He’s old enough to be your father.” Her comment made your heart sink a bit, but it was a comment that you were relatively used to hearing whenever people had seen you and Dean together. You and Dean had a 15 year age gap, and you didn’t particularly look your age at times; it all depended on if you were wearing make-up or not, and the type of clothing you had on at the time.

“He’s not actually.” You firmly stated. “I know it looks like he is but –” You started to say, but the woman seemed to have no interest in your explanation, simply ignoring what you had to say because she seemed too invested in the ‘relationship’ that you and Jack apparently were in, in her eyes.

“How long have you two been together?” She repeated her question. You and Jack looked at each other, their cheeks starting to get a slightly light pink out of embarrassment.

“Again, we aren’t together.” Your voice sounding more firm this time.

In that moment out of your peripheral you noticed Dean starting to make his way back over to the three of you. His once happy expression quickly turned into what seemed like concern. “Everything okay here Sweetheart?” He asked you.

“Oh, everything’s fine dear.” The woman stated, not realizing that he was calling you Sweetheart and not her. She gently took hold of his arm, almost as if she was flirting with him; which you were pretty sure she was. “I was just complimenting your daughter here on how nicely her and her boyfriend looked together.”

Dean looked at the woman’s arm on his before looking at you and Jack for a moment. Dean let out one of the biggest laughs you had heard from him in a while. “What’s so funny?” The older woman asked.

Dean wiped his eyes, as if he had just been cry laughing. “What you just said.” He pointed at you and Jack. “Them two? Now that’s…wow, I needed that laugh today, thank you.” He said. The old woman’s expression grew even more confused than it was before.

“You’re not…her father?” She looked at the three of you, removing her hand finally from his arm.

“Biologically? No. But she does call me daddy sometimes in the bedroom.” He winked at the older woman, his comment making her gasp quietly before she left the three of you alone.

“Dean!” You couldn’t believe what he had just said. Well, you could, but you didn’t think he would say something like that to a woman that just seemed to be a bit too nosy for her own good.

“What?” He asked.

“Y/N, do you really call Dean your father?” Jack asked very seriously. Jack was aware of some of the nicknames that you and Dean had or would call each other. Sweetheart, Hon, Honey, Babe, Baby, Sunshine. But Daddy was a new one for them.

Dean was about to open his mouth to answer Jack, but you quickly covered it with your hand. “We’re not gonna talk about that.” You simply said, sounding just a bit defensive in your response.

Tag List: @roseblue373​

If you’d like to be added to a tag list, let me know ♡

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Teacher Bruno stumbles upon Y/N working on a set for theater for the school and talks to her. Upon realizing shes cold offers his ruana which she begrudgingly accepts. Bruno makes her horny somehow so she excuses herself to the bathroom. Bruno carries on what he was doing in the first place deciding he would come back later, going to his room he finds Y/N in the bathroom. Playing with herself with his ruana still on, biting it and inhaling it's scent.

Don’t Stand So Close To Me (18+) (Part 10)

Teacher!Bruno Madrigal x Student!Fem!Reader

Modern Day!Imagine

Non-Magic AU

Summary: Basically what the request says

Warnings: Smut, swearing, Age gap, inappropriate thoughts, teacher/student (STUDENT IS OF AGE), sir kink, Papi/daddy kink, slight bimbofication, praise kink, fluff, unprotected sex, public sex, bathroom sex

Word Count: 1665

Italics will mostly be his direct thoughts or his imagination

Author Note: I was a bit confused about the last bit of the request so I'll just take it that this is still happening while school or whatever is happening, sorry if this is not what you asked for exactly but I hope you still like it. I didn't finish this one till a lot later than I hoped but I had heaps of work due so sorry this might be late.

Don't Stand So Close To Me (Masterlist)

(Part 9) >(Part 10)< (Part 11)

(I do not own this gif)

Bruno POV

My last class of the day had just finished, leaving the rest of the day free for me to do whatever I wished. Most days, I would have just left and gone home, but I wanted to take Y/N out after so I decided to just stay here and wait it out. Since I had no other classes and it was a bit chillier than usual, I put my ruana over my shirt, not needing to seem professional anymore.

It was currently break time and I decided to go chill out in the staff room again. I had slowly managed to get along with some of my colleagues, especially the drama teacher. 

“You should come to watch the students practice their plays. They’ve all made their own characters and storyline and they are practising them today,” Miss Scott, the drama teacher said, drinking her coffee. 

“I don’t want to intrude or anything,” I chuckled, shyly.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, they won’t mind. Besides, they need an audience.”

I thought for a sec.

I guess it can’t hurt. Besides, I have nothing else to do.

“I guess I can come to watch.”

⌛

“Come around students, today, you will rehearse your plays for the first time and Mr Madrigal here has come to watch you rehearse,” Miss Scott introduced me. 

I nodded slightly, a bit nervous about these people not being my own students. I scanned my eyes over the students before stopping on one student in particular. My face lit up.

I never knew she did drama.

She smiled back, waving slightly at me. She had her usual pleated skirt and crop top on.

God, she’s adorable.

“Okay, the first group go up and the rest of us will sit in the audience,” the drama teacher clapped, everyone, rushing into position. 

I found a seat behind the rest of the people, not wanting to disturb them. I could see out of the corner of my eye, a student rushing down the aisle, sitting beside me. I didn’t even need to turn to know who sat beside me. 

“I didn’t know you took drama,” I whispered, looking at her.

“I didn’t know you’d be coming over to watch,” she whispered back, smiling at me.

I chuckled a little, feeling her lean closer into my side. I slid my hand up her leg, grabbing her hand, holding it mine, making sure no one was looking. Her skin was quite cold to the touch.

"You cold?” I asked, looking over at her. 

She shook her head, “not really.”

“Okay,” I said, not quite believing her. 

I focused back on the students on stage, performing their scenes. Not even 5 minutes later, I felt her slip her cold hand and mine to sit between her thighs, where it was much warmer. 

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” 

“I’m fine, really,” she said, trying not to shiver. 

I let go of her hand, taking my ruana off before handing it over to her.

“It’s fine Bruno, you might need it” she whined slightly. 

“Put it on.”

“Someone might see,” she whispered, leaning closer to me.

“They’re all focused on the play, it’s okay,” I reassured her. 

She huffed a little, putting it over her head. 

“Better?”

“Hmpf!” 

I laughed quietly, grabbing her hand again. She placed our hands back between her thighs, still probably trying to warm her hands up. 

About 20 minutes in, I noticed her start to squirm around in her seat a bit, breathing heavily.

“Are you okay, mi Vida?” I asked, worried. 

“Y-yeah, I’m good,” she stuttered. 

“Do you need to go to the bathroom or something?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” she said, standing up quickly. 

“Okay, don’t take too long,” I watched as she rushed to the bathroom.

⌛

I looked down at my watch.

She’s been in there for like 15 minutes. I should check on her.

I got up and walked down the hall toward the bathrooms. The bathrooms here were big single ones instead of multiple stalls. I got to the bathroom door and put my ear against the door to listen in. 

“Are you in there, Y/N?” 

I heard her gasp slightly on the other side. 

“U-uh, yeah!” she called out, sounding breathless. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Y-yeah! I’m okay,” she continued to breathe loudly.

I noticed that she had not locked the door.

She doesn’t sound good, I should go in. 

I opened the door slowly but she had obviously not noticed, cause if she did, she would have stopped what she was doing. I gasped. She was sitting on the toilet lid with one of her legs resting on the seat as well. One of her hands was right between her leg, fiddling with her most delicate parts. Her juices were leaking out of her, and the wet sounds of her pumping her fingers in her pussy echoed in the empty bathroom. Her eyes were closed with her head leaning back with my ruana between her teeth. 

Holy fuck. Is this a sight to see? 

I could already feel my member strain against my pants, taking in the sight before me. 

“So this is what you’ve been doing for 15 minutes, aye?”

She jolted upright, gasping loudly in shock. I turned back to the door, locking it before approaching her. 

“Hmm?” 

“S-sir,” she whimpered. 

“What’s gotten you so horny this time?” I asked, leaning down to get a good look at her flushed face. 

She couldn’t even answer, only moaning. 

“Come one, baby, speak,” I demanded. 

“Y-you.”

“Me?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded. 

“Oh yeah? What was it I did this time?” I teased.

“Smell good,” she moaned out. 

“Oh really?”  

I found that highly unlikely as I hadn’t washed my ruana in quite a long time but I question such a goddess. 

“Mhmm,” she whimpered as I delicately placed my hand against her jaw. 

“So you just couldn’t wait a little longer till class was over?”

She shook her head, a heavy blush making its way up her face. 

“Would you like it if daddy helped you out a bit?”

“Please, Papi,” she breathed out.

I tapped the side of her thigh, “hop up.”

She sweetly obeyed and I sat down where she previously was, tapping my thigh, indicating for her to sit back down. She plants her pretty leg on either side of mine. I run my hands up her plush thighs, giving them a squeeze a couple times. 

“What do you want daddy to do for you? Remember that we are still at school so we don’t have too much time.”

“Please just fuck me.”

I picked her up, pushing her against the sink, unzipping my pants to release my cock. I pushed my ruana up to reveal her pretty leaky pussy, throbbing for my cock. I panted a quick kiss on her lips while slowly pushing my dick into her. She gasped slightly while I went in. Grabbing the neckline of my ruana, I placed it between her lips.

“Can’t have the whole building hearing you, can we?”

I hadn't even started moving and she was already starting to moan. Just the sight of her with my ruana in her mouth made me breathe unevenly. 

God, I'm gonna end up being louder than her.

“Look at you,” I quickly pushed in further, trying my hardest not to just moan out.

“You gorgeous, gorgeous girl.”

I began to pick up the pace and I couldn’t hold back my sounds. Before I could get too loud, I bit down on her neck, trying not to hurt her, but also trying not to scream out. I watched as her eyes began to roll back from holding in all her sounds.

"Aw, don't go dumb on me now, mi Vida."

I could see her drool soaking through my ruana and felt her clench around me.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” I tried not to be too loud.

“Feels s-so good, s-sir,” she said, muffled with the fabric between her lips.

My thrusts became uneven and lazy, "I'm gonna cum, Cariño."

I brought my thumb down to her clit, rubbing it furiously. She let out a loud moan, pushing herself into me. I held onto her body, still rubbing at her little clit. 

"F-faster!" She whimpered.

I could barely keep a steady pace as I tried to thrust faster. She stuttered on her high pitched moans as I felt her velvety walls pulse around my cock, indicating her climax, bringing me to my own. I pumped myself dry inside her, wrapping her legs around my waist to hold her properly. 

"Are you okay, baby?" I asked breathlessly.

 She dropped her head into the crook of my neck, trying to slow her breathing down. 

"I'm okay…thank you," she said, panting.

I smiled to myself, rubbing circles on her back. 

"I love you, mi Amor," I kissed her neck, lovingly.

"I love you too." 

I held her for a little longer before pulling out and grabbing some toilet paper to clean her up.

"You okay, baby? You wanna just wait here for a bit?" I asked, sitting her down on the toilet lid.

"Yeah, you go first and I'll come in a sec," she said, sounding as if she could fall asleep any second. 

"Okay, mi Vida, don't fall asleep," I kissed the top of her head before walking to the door. 

"Bye-bye," she waved.

⌛

"Where have you been?" Miss Scott asked as I walked into the hall.

By the time I got back to the theatre hall, the class was over. 

"Sorry, I was just Uh…grabbing a few things," I tried to make up a story.

"Well you missed today's ones, but you could come to watch the rest tomorrow."

"Yeah, sir! I'll be doing mine tomorrow!" 

I turned to face the owner of the voice 

My girl.

She looked completely cleaned up as if I wasn't just fucking her in the bathroom.

"I…guess I could come around."

-

Author Note: Sorry I posted this one so late, I've just been really busy with essays and all that good stuff that I haven't had the time to write this. I hope you enjoyed this part and if you'd like to be a part of the taglist, just ask down in the comments.

Taglist: elfwoodfae diannaey rennaisancebaby fapqueen scarletambitions nik-barinova little-spooky-ghost-girl dylansoldhair r0ck3n1buk11 hoeboat101 nervoussubjectappreciator kuilty biafbunny sad0ni0n alinafaustina elitalover jessicarosequinzelfleck

[bruhstories]

Sticky, Saccharine & Sinful

Summary: Professor Jaeger asks his assistant to come over and grade some papers. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings & Content: language, protected sex, fingering, oral sex (female & male receiving), spanking, daddy kink, bossy Zeke, bratty Reader, tying up, bit of an age gap but no underage shit (we don’t do that here) Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: Huehuehue guess who finally wrote a daddy kink smut? Also I have looped Cherry Cola by Kuwada the entire time i wrote, proofread and formatted this bitch, I think it works with the atmosphere

"Y/N, I'm gonna need you to help me grade some papers later today." Professor Jaeger pushed his glasses with his index finger as he looked up from his book.

"You got it, boss!" You nodded as you entered the staff lounge room at Stohess Uni, two cups in your hands.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Zeke?" The man sighed. “Or at least call me professor.”

"But I'm your assistant, you're my superior, that makes you my boss, boss." Sarcasm dripping down your tongue as you placed his coffee down the table. "All black, two cubes of sugar."

"Thank you. And yes, technically I am your boss, but you're, what, six years younger than me?"

"Seven and a half." You pouted.

You've been working at Stohess University for a little over a year now as Zeke Jaeger's assistant. He was the best philosophy teacher, as well as head of the department, and you nailed your internship interview, aspiring to be like him one day. He even taught you Ethics during your masters, and currently you were doing your PhD research under his coordination. The man was a genius in his field, and you didn't dare disappoint him, but your personalities always clashed. He was calm and collected, you were bubbly and all over the place. He was nice and polite, you were sarcastic and rude. Zeke knew you'd make a horrible teacher for children, but undergraduate students would adore you.

"How can you drink hot coffee in this heat wave?" You asked him as you fanned someone's epistemology essay to cool yourself off.

"It's actually been proven that warm drinks hydrate better than cold ones during summertime." He inhaled the scent of freshly brewed coffee before taking the essay out of your hand.

"Whatever you say, boss." You shrugged and gulped on your iced tea, a few glistening amber drops dripping from the corners of your mouth, down your chin and your neck. "Ah, shit." You wiped the tea with the back of your hand, not catching Zeke watching you curiously. "Why did the AC have to break down today of all days?"

"Dunno." He shrugged and immersed himself back into his book. "Oh, I hope you don't mind coming to my place to grade the papers? I don't think you'll be able to focus in this heat. Besides, I want to take a look at your latest PhD chapter." Jaeger told you absentmindedly, eyes glued to the pages in front of him.

"Sure thing–"

"Don't say it."

"Boss."

"Jesus Christ..."

You adored pissing your ex-professor off, but deep down, Zeke couldn't deny the fact that he loved the authority he had over you. You were a very alluring woman, after all, and any sane man would kill to be as close to you as he was, let alone boss you around like he did. And he had the strong feeling you acted like a brat around him on purpose. You took your leave after downing the rest of your beverage, going to the library to borrow some books for your own research.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You rang the intercom and waited for Zeke to let you inside the building, dragging your feet down the hallway, tired from carrying so much shit with you – laptop, books, essays, papers, pens and highlighters – you were a walking, talking stationery shop and one could only wonder how someone with such a petite frame was so strong. Zeke waited in the doorway and took some of your things, relieving the weight as you sighed.

"Coffee?" He guided you to his kitchen.

"Water, please." You plopped on a chair and unbuttoned the first three heart-shaped buttons of your lilac shirt, tiny beads of sweat bundled up at your collarbone.

"You sure? I'll be keeping you up all night." Jaeger laughed. He was obviously talking about the papers, but to you, the sentence had a different innuendo — not that you minded, you had your fair share of sinful fantasies with the older man. Come to think of it, you were wondering why he was single. Zeke was undoubtedly an attractive man, he could have any woman he wanted. Yet you’ve never seen him on a date, never seen a picture of a woman when you accidentally glanced at his phone, never heard him talk about a significant other.

"Hey, mind if I smoke?" You asked, noticing the ashtray on his table.

"Not at all, I'll join you." He sat opposite you, mug of coffee in his hand. You pulled out a pack of pink cigarettes from your backpack and placed one between your lips, pocketing your jeans for a lighter. His hand extended over the table, lighter in his hand, and you slightly bent your head forward, eyes glued to his. You inhaled the smoke, not breaking eye contact, and exhaled with a sigh. Something about Zeke lighting up your cigarette made your little cunt tingle.

"Thanks, boss." The corners of your lips turned into a barely visible smirk. You really, really liked to tick him off.

"Don't mention it." He told you before lighting his own cigarette. What, no comeback? No objection? "How's your paper going?"

"It's... going." You shrugged.

"You haven't written anything in your last chapter, have you?"

"No, I have," you half-whined, "it's just that I can't find my words. I think I encountered writer's block."

"'S alright, we'll figure something out." Zeke pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase and dropped it on the table.

"Wow, no shit you need help, that's a lot of papers." You twirled the cigarette between your fingers before taking one final puff and crushing it in the glass ashtray.

"Told you." He picked his resting cigarette back from the ashtray. "You can do the first years."

"I'd rather do something else." You whispered to yourself, eyes almost rolling at the back of your head.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, boss. First years, got it." Your manicured fingers pulled the stack of papers closer to you. The exams were already annotated according to subject and year and you took everything you needed before shoving them back to Zeke.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You were bored out of your mind, fiddling with the red pen in your hand and tapping your fingers on the table with no particular rhythm. It was already dark outside and you barely finished a quarter of your stack while Zeke was halfway through his.

"Could you please stop that?" He asked you without even bothering to look at you.

"Why?"

"It's annoying."

With a groan you rolled your eyes and stopped tapping your fingers, instead opting to fidget your leg, bouncing it up and down under the table. The wooden furniture shook at the movement and Zeke sighed, putting the pen down.

"I understand you're bored, but if you want to be a professor, this is part of the job description."

"I know, I know, but, like, can we take a break? Please? We've been at it for two and a half hours now and I'm just so bored." You looked at him with puppy eyes and a pout on your plump lips.

"Ugh, fine. What do you want to do?"

"I dunno. Got any board games?"

"Only a pack of playing cards." Zeke shrugged.

"Perfect! Literally anything is better than this. I mean look at what this kid wrote: the ship of Theseus ARE a thought experiment. Can you believe it? How can a nineteen-year-old not know proper grammar?"

"Careful, Y/N," he chuckled, "you made a pretty embarrassing error during your masters, too."

"Nooo, don't bring that up!" You got up and walked to the freezer, scanning the contents.

"Why not? It's funny."

"Yeah, for you." You rolled your eyes. "But I still proved my worth." You triumphantly told him, tongue playfully poking out of your mouth from behind the freezer door. Ugh, you were so cute, made to be ravaged. Your eyes settled on the single raspberry popsicle and you picked it up, closing back the door. "Can I have this?" Oh, he knew exactly what you were doing.

"Of course."

With Zeke's approval, you unwrapped the plastic, revealing the rose-tinted dessert, swirling your tongue around its tip. You were a sight for sore eyes, (not so) innocently licking at the popsicle, your gaze on him and his growing bulge. He didn't even bother hiding it, instead relaxing in the chair and drinking you in. It was no mistake that Zeke invited you over, and you weren't stupid enough to believe it was a mistake.

"Do you... want some?" You trailed off as the once cold dessert began melting from your hot lips.

"If you'd be so kind." He patted his lap and you accepted the invitation. His bulge was comfortably uncomfortable against your ass, and you put the popsicle onto his lips, one arm draped around his shoulder. Zeke's tongue moved languidly around the sweet snack and you leaned in, your own tongue licking both the dessert and his lips. It was sticky and saccharine and sinful, and your poor pussy couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you wanna fuck me, daddy?" You naively asked him. He wasn't surprised in the slightest by the name, already suspecting you had daddy issues, in fact counting on it.

"I very much do." His hands were already roaming your body. The popsicle was almost gone, and you deepthroated the last bit, taking the little stick out of your mouth with a pop. Finally, he crushed his lips onto yours and you could tell he had experience. You dropped the stick on the tiled floor, twisting your body to better straddle him. Zeke unbuttoned your shirt as you slowly began grinding your hips against his bulge, earning a groan from him. "Ugh, you bad girl." He threw his head back as you loosened the tie around his neck.

"Are you going to punish me?" You slowly, too slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

"What’s the point of a punishment if you’re going to enjoy it?" He mused, unclasping your bra. You had goosebumps all over your skin and Zeke took one of your nipples in his hot mouth, a hand pinching your other one. You whimpered at the slight stinging sensation

"Does it m-matter if I enjoy it?" His touch became rougher, almost animalistic.

"Of course," he stopped sucking your swollen, oversensitive nipple, "otherwise you won't learn your lesson." You got up and turned around, your back against him, taking your jeans and underwear off, bending down and exposing your cunt to him. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N." Zeke shook his head, removing his own trousers.

"Allow me." You tucked your fingers behind the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down as you kneeled in front of him. His throbbing cock tapped your face after finally being unleashed from its textile cage.

"I suspected you were big, but this? This is too good." You sneered at his member, mesmerised by its size.

"Just shut up and suck it." Zeke pretty much commanded you and you wet your lips, pressing your tongue against the velvety tip. You worked your way around his shaft, enjoying this more than you should've. You pulled back, a string of saliva and precum attached to your lips as you looked up at him.

"Am I doing good, daddy?"

"So good." He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pushed your head back. You eagerly sucked and slurped until he got bored of your mouth around his cock. Zeke pulled you up, spun you around and bent you over the table. He brought your wrists together and tied them up behind your back with his tie before taking a step back and admiring the view. Ass up, face down, just like he loved it. His foot pushed yours to the side, spreading your legs for him before he gave you a good slap over your ass cheeks. You shot up with a moan but his hand forced you back down against the table.

"I think I know exactly how to punish you." Zeke announced, two fingers spreading your folds as his tongue dove inside of you, lapping at your wet cunt.

"Oh, God!" You groaned in pleasure. No man has ever eaten you out like he did. Most guys did it as a chore. Zeke? He was enjoying every single bit of it, passionately fingering you, his tongue moving in ways you didn't think were possible. "Ah, fuck– so good! Daddy, please! I'm coming!"

The way he venomously laughed told you that no, you were not going to come any time soon. Just as you were about to let loose, Zeke stopped, removing his fingers, another slap on your ass. Tears pooled at your Y/E/C eyes, frustration written all over your face. "No, no, no!"

"I told you, Y/N, you're a bad, bad girl." He bent over and whispered in your ear, his cock pressing against your entrance, his hand in your hair.

"Oh, pleaseee, I need to come! Will you let me come?"

"Hm, it depends." Jaeger straightened his back, hands resting on your hips. "Did you learn your lesson?"

"Yes, yes, daddy, I did! I promise I'll be good!" You tried to turn around to look at him, oblivious to what he was doing behind your back, cheeks crimson, droplets of sweat on your forehead.

"Convincing enough." He shrugged and you heard the condom snap against his cock.  Unexpectedly and without any warning, the man thrusted into your wet cunt and you, again, shot up, but he pinned you back. "Stay fucking put, you little whore." Zeke demanded and you tried, you really tried, but your body had a mind of its own. "I see you refuse to learn."

"No, no, please!" You slammed your face onto the table, squishing your cheek in the process, desperate and helpless.

"That's better." He concluded, sarcasm dripping down his tongue as he rammed his cock deeper into you. The silken walls clenched around his hard member, and he grunted, no other woman pleasing him like your tight pussy did. "You like it when I take you from behind, you filthy slut?"

"Yes– oh my God, YES!" You bucked your hips against his for more pressure and pain.

"What would my students think if they saw you getting fucked like this on their papers?"

"Ah– I don't c-care!"

"What would the headmaster say if she knew you fuck your superior and- ugh- coordinator?" Jaeger thrusted harder and faster.

"Please, Zeke-"

His hand found its way to your neck, tightly squeezing it.

"Wrong name, Y/N."

"Shit, daddy!"

"That's right, I'm your fucking daddy and hell will freeze before someone else fucking touches you!"

"Fuc-k, fuuuck!" You both howled and panted as you climaxed, your entire bodies quivering. Zeke pulled out of you, carefully removing the rubber from his cock and giving you another slap on your perky ass cheeks. You stood up, arms still tied around your back, turned on your heels and pecked him on his cheek, giggling like a schoolgirl, marvelled by the fact that he chose you over anyone else.

"You know what, Y/N? Now that I've found you, I'm never going to let you go." He promised.

"I'm all yours, boss."

[seongsangi]

your girl calls me daddy too

pairing: johnny x reader

summary: the story of getting involved with your professor/classmate's dad 👀

word count: 4.5k

warnings: professor!johnny, dilf!johnny, daddy/sir kink, age gap bc johnny is older in this fic (reader is 21+, we dont do that barely legal just turned 18 shit) straight up smut, that's all we do on this blog

author's note: this took me from 8 pm to 4 am to write. idk if that's fast or not compared to some people but bitch... that's a record for me!

another note: idk if anyone's wondering but johnny is a single dad in this, no cheating or infidelity involved!

No one knows about your relationship with Johnny Suh, certainly not your family or friends, and certainly not his son who is in the same biology course as you this semester. The secret is kept strictly between the two of you, the thrill of hiding it making it that much more exciting.

The relationship began with him being your chemistry professor. The brief glances, lingering touches, and frequent visits during office hours became too much for either of you to deny the attraction. It felt so wrong, the professor-student affair being too much of a cliché that you were hesitant to follow through with it. But after a particular session discussing the assigned homework, you both realized it was now too late to go back.

***********************************************

“Professor, why are you looking at me like that?” you fiddle with your pen in your hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little distracted.” Mr. Suh lets his eyes trail down your figure, eyeing the neckline of your dress that reveals just enough to get his imagination going. He’s thinking about the way you waltzed in here with that damn sundress on, the way you bite your lip when you’re confused on a reaction mechanism, the way your innocent eyes look up at him when he’s explaining the concept. He feels foolish, unable to focus on your question when you’re sitting across from him looking like that, the dress hugging your figure in all the right ways.

“Should I come back another time?”

Mr. Suh clears his throat, giving you another glance up and down before collecting himself. “No, no, I promise I’m fine. Let me check your work right quick.” You hand him the paper, watching as he leans back in his chair examining the mechanism you drew. You let your eyes do the same thing to him as he did to you, taking in the long sleeve black shirt he wore today that hugs his biceps almost too well. It has your hands itching to feel them under your fingers, to take the shirt off and see him in all his glory. Your eyes roam his face, the sharp features drawing you in. You imagine his plump lips doing things to your body that are sure to take your breath away.

He does not fail to notice your lingering stare, or the way you’re fidgeting in your chair. He pulls the sleeves of his shirt up his forearm and grabs his pen, leaning in to show you where you went wrong. As he’s explaining, you lean in too, your perfume filling his senses. You can’t seem to focus on what he’s saying, too busy tracing the veins along his arms and hands. Oh, how they would feel wrapped around your – okay, bitch you have got to chill.

“Miss Y/N, is something the matter?” The way your name rolls off his tongue has you swooning, the added ‘miss’ making your tummy flutter.

You feel your body temperature rising with each second, fiddling with your hands in your lap, your mind going crazy with impure thoughts. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. “Uh, I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

Mr. Suh notices your attention is elsewhere, setting his pen down and looking you directly in the eye, making you feel tiny under his intense gaze.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game.”

The statement catches you off guard, your cheeks immediately getting hot. “I- I don’t know, wha- what do you mean?” you stutter, which he finds endearing seeing you all flushed.

“Let’s not act like we don’t know where your mind is at,” he sees right through you. “Cause I’ll be honest, I’m right there with you.” His voice drops a couple octaves, sending a wave of arousal through you at the sound of it. Oh fuck, is this really happening right now?

Your breath gets caught in your throat, unable to respond. What the fuck do you even say to that? Mr. Suh gets out of his chair, his long legs coming around the desk and standing in front of you. He leans down real close to your face, bracing himself on the arm rests of the chair you’re in, effectively caging you in. If you thought you were getting warm before, you’re on the verge of burning up now. He’s smirking down at you, enjoying just how riled up you’re getting.

“Are you gonna tell me you haven’t been thinking of things other than chemistry during our meeting?” He cocks his head to the side, challenging you with a tease in his words.

“Um, professor, I don’t think we should be doing this…” you trail, glancing at the closed door behind you. His face is too close for comfort, looking anywhere but at him.

“Then tell me to stop,” his lips now ghosting your neck, so close you can feel his breath on your skin. He’s watching your chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. Every fiber in your being is telling you this is wrong on so many levels, but it’s making your body tingle in a way you can’t ignore. You’ve been thinking about him and it’s obvious he has been too, what’s stopping you from going further? You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find any words to say, nothing to let him know you don’t want this.

“You have to tell me you want it then,” he pulls back from you slightly, waiting for your confirmation. If you don’t explicitly say yes, then he won’t push it any further.

You can’t take this any more, sitting up straight and saying “I want it” in one breath before crashing your lips against his. There’s no taking this back, you tell yourself as you let him take control. You sigh into the kiss, his lips feel so right against yours, letting the lust cloud your mind. He cups the side of your face, pulling you up by your waist to get a better angle to devour your lips. His hips push you against the desk, lifting you slightly to sit on the edge. Your hands bunch up his shirt, pulling him even closer to you. He bites your bottom lip as he pulls away, searching your face for any sign of regret. Instead, he’s met with your blown out expression, needy eyes asking for more.

Mr. Suh shakes his head in disbelief, almost chuckling. “You don’t know what you do to me, miss Y/N.” You love it when he calls you that. He steps back, turning around to lock the door. The sound of the lock only fuels your excitement, eager to see what he’ll do next. Your hands grip the edge of the desk as Mr. Suh stalks towards you, like a predator eyeing his prey. Oh, how you want him to eat you up right now. Your thighs press together at the thought, a movement he quickly notices.

His hands trail up the side of your thighs before resting on the curve of your ass. The fabric is soft to the touch but he bets your skin is softer. “What are you thinking of, you naughty girl?” His lips are back on you, letting your head fall to the side as he peppers kisses along your neck. “Just thinking about you,” you pant.

“I know that much. What do you want me to do, hmm?” he presses further.

“Anything you want,” falling further under his spell. He groans in your ear, ready and willing to take advantage of your submission. It’s more like you’ve got him under your spell. He knows this is wrong on a professional level, but fuck that right now.

“Turn around,” twisting your body before you can even do it yourself. His touch makes you so dizzy, bracing your hands on the homework assignment that has long been forgotten. He kisses your shoulder, pressing close to your backside as he admires you from behind, the dress doing wonders to accentuate your curves.

“You look so good in this dress doll,” kneading your ass in his hands. He gives it a tame slap, not wanting to be too rough since there are still other offices around his. “But I bet you’d look even better with it off.” The wetness in your panties is becoming unbearable, desperate for him to touch you where you need him.

“Touch me please,” your sweet voice begging him is more than enough for him to comply. He bunches your dress up over your waist to expose your soft skin, the thin panties you’re wearing showcasing your wet spot off clearly. His pants are getting incredibly tight, blood rushing to his member with each second. He lifts your right knee to rest it on the desk, trailing his fingers over the thin fabric.

“Right here?” he slides his fingers up and down your center, earning a shudder from you.

“Or here?” pulling your panties to the side and coating his fingers in your arousal. You let out an audible moan when he finds your clit, which prompts him to clamp his hand over your mouth. He cranes your head back to look you in your eyes, his hand still rubbing against your bundle of nerves.

“You’ll have to be quiet or else I’ll stop. Can’t have anyone around us hearing you.” You nod in understanding, eyes fluttering shut as two of his fingers slide into you with ease. You arch your back a bit more, pushing your hips further into his hand. It’s a good thing his hand is still covering your mouth because you can’t help your moans when his fingers are drilling into you so fast.

“You’re taking my fingers so well doll,” he’s gonna drive you insane with that nickname. You turn your head to get a better look at him, watching him part his lips as he watches his fingers disappear in and out of your core.

He slides a third finger in and you want to scream, the stretch makes you feel so full. You’re soaked now, the lewd sounds of your wetness making you feel self-conscious. Just then, his office phone rings. You gasp, looking at him with wide eyes. He lets go of your mouth but doesn’t pull his fingers out of you, pumping them in even as he reaches for the phone. You try to stay as quiet as you can with his fingers still working your core.

“Hello, this is Johnny Suh.” He looks you dead in the eye, telling you you better shut up without verbally saying anything.

“Ah, Jaehyun, what can I do for you?” Your legs buckle when he hits that spot, almost letting out a yelp. He shoots you another glare, pulling his fingers out and shoving them in your mouth to keep you quiet. He sets the phone down for a second, leaning in to your ear. “Play with yourself while I take this call. And shut up, I mean it.”

You can taste yourself on his fingers, the whole thing making you feel so filthy. Your hand reaches down to your core, rubbing yourself slowly as Mr. Suh picks the phone up again. You lick him clean, getting your own fingers wet now with your slick. He’s listening to the other person on the line but paying close attention to your hand in between your thighs. He likes watching you play with yourself, getting off on the thought of him.

“Okay, all that sounds great. Send me an email of the template and I’ll check it out. I’m with a student right now, so can I call you back later?”

When he finally gets off the phone, he shoves his fingers further into your mouth, almost making you choke on them. “Didn’t I tell you to be quiet? You couldn’t even do that?” You’re so worked up, you can feel your high approaching and you just want him to help you reach it.

You grab his wrist, pulling his fingers out of your mouth. “I’m so close,” bringing his hand back to your core.

“You want to cum? Beg for it,” he doesn’t make a move to touch you.

“Please sir, I wanna cum on your fingers, please please.” You stroke his arm gently, pleading with your eyes, anything for him to touch you again. How could he say no when you’re looking at him like that?

He tells you to turn around to face him, holding your leg against his waist. He watches your face contort in pleasure as he gives you what you want, rubbing yourself at the same time to chase your high. You try to keep your voice to a minimum, your sweet moans fueling him on. If his fingers feel this good in you, you can’t even imagine what else he’s got in store for you.

“Fuuuck, sir I’m cumming,” you cry weakly, closing your eyes and clenching around his fingers as you finally get that release. The sight of you coming undone on his hand is almost enough to take you right then and there, but he holds himself back. Your hand grips his wrist tightly, but he doesn’t stop pumping in and out of you until you open your eyes, worried he’s gonna try to get another one out of you so soon.

He finally stops, taking the chance to taste yourself by licking his own fingers clean. God, you thought sucking his fingers was hot, this is even better. He loves the taste of you, already craving more. Mr. Suh runs his hand along your inner thighs, taking a mental image of the sight of you spread open for him on his desk.

“Miss Y/N, I think it’s safe to say that we should keep this a secret between us.”

***********************************************

And that’s how your intimate relationship with your professor began. You’ve been in his office so many times after that, you’ve lost count, letting him take you on every inch of that desk. Before, during, and after office hours, you both crave each other’s touch. You know to keep your time together to a minimum though. You can’t be coming into his office whenever you want, or else it would start to get suspicious. Sometimes you catch yourself stealing glances at his son in biology class, wondering if he has even the slightest idea of what’s going on between you and Mr. Suh.

One day, when he’s at the front of the class teaching, all you can think about is his lips on you as he takes you from behind, whispering in your ear how dirty you are for letting him fuck you before class started. By the end of class, he passes the homework back out. You see a note written in red at the bottom of your paper.

127 Paradise Lane tomorrow 7 pm

It doesn’t take a genius to know what that means or what it entails. You quickly put your homework in your backpack before any curious eyes can see what’s written on it. You look up to see him steal a glance at you, making sure you got his note. Neither of you say anything as you walk out of class.

***********************************************

When you get to his house the next night, he welcomes you in with a warm smile, which quickly turns devious as he shoves you against the door immediately after closing it, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. You grab hold of his shirt as his hands roam your body, pulling him as close as you can. His hard bulge presses against your stomach, thoughts already wandering to how mind blowing his impressive length will feel in you. You want him, but one questions prods at your mind, pulling away from his lips slightly.

“Sir, what about your son? Is he gonna be home tonight?” You feel weird in your classmate’s house, but the fact that you’re about to fuck his dad as you’ve done plenty of times before is more overwhelming than your qualms about being here.

“He’s out of town with his friends,” running his hand up your back before grabbing your hair, pulling your head back so fast it surprises you. His breath is warm against your lips, “And when you’re in my house, it’s daddy.” You’re so used to calling him sir, knowing it turns him on but the new name in this new setting makes your insides tingle. You can’t hold back your smile, giving him your best “yes, daddy” to appease him.

Mr. Suh leads you to his bedroom, the king sized bed hitting your back as he throws you down. He towers over you, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. You sit up on your elbows, rubbing your thighs together as you eat up the man before you with your eyes. With each button that comes undone, you get more and more excited. He’s watching you intently, thinking of all the ways he’s going to ruin you tonight. He looks delectable with his shirt off, licking your lips at the sight of his well built figure.

“You’re gonna start drooling soon,” he teases, walking to his closet and pulling out one of his many ties. Whatever he’s thinking of doing with that, you have absolutely no complaints. You bite your lip in anticipation as he kneels on the bed, securing the tie around your neck into a makeshift collar. “Is this okay with you?”

You nod your head, but he pulls on the tie quickly, taking your breath away. “Use your words.”

“Yes, it’s ok,” you choke out. He doesn’t let up, asking instead, “Yes what?”

You’re gushing already, the control he has over you making your head spin. “Yes daddy,” you can barely get the two words out. He lets the tie go slack, coughing a bit at the sudden attack. His hand cups your face, “Sorry was that too much?” You nuzzle your cheek into his hand, telling him you loved it.

And that’s what he loves about you, that you take anything he gives you and enjoy every bit of it. You’re too much for him. He sits with his back against the headboard, tugging your arm to straddle him. “Did you wear this little dress for me?” his hands are sliding up and down your thighs, bringing out the goosebumps on your skin. You brace your hands on his chest, moving your hips against his jeans. The friction against your clit is oh so good and feels even better when he flexes his thigh after seeing your movements.

“You should see what I’m wearing underneath,” tugging the hem of your dress over your body, revealing your choice in white lingerie underneath, the color making you look angelic but is a stark contrast to the sinful things that are about to happen.

“Miss Y/N, what am I gonna do with you?” he asks as you pick up the pace of your hips, leaning down to press your lips to his neck. He lets you do what you want to him, encouraging your hips to move faster. Your small whimpers in his ear tell him you’re enjoying yourself, using his thigh to get off. You know not to leave any visible marks, opting for further down his chest to leave hickeys. His jeans feel so good against your core, finding more pleasure in riding his thigh than you thought, but it’s still not enough. “Want you to fuck me,” you moan breathlessly, pushing your chest into his face as you find that perfect spot to keep grinding against.

He hungrily pulls your bra down, attaching his lips to your hard nipple as he rolls the other one between his fingers. Your skin is so soft, he could bury his face in your tits all night. He leaves his own hickeys on your chest, admiring his work as he puts your bra back in place.

“Keep the lingerie on.” He pulls you down by the tie again, kissing you fervently as you fumble with his jeans. You get down on your knees, taking his clothes off so that he’s naked before you. His rock-hard member slaps against his stomach when you pull his pants off. You flatten your tongue against his member, locking eyes with him as you lick him from the base to the tip. You take him in your mouth, using your hands to fondle his balls to add to his pleasure. Using your tongue as much as you can to get him wet, you take him as far as your throat allows.

“You look so good with my dick in your mouth,” grabbing your hair and bobbing your head up and down on him. You let him use your mouth, parting his lips at the feeling of your warm tongue. When he lets go of your hair, you release him with a pop, sliding your hand along his length. “I bet I look even better with it in m—” you can’t even finish your sentence as he grabs you by the chin, shutting you up.

“I knew you’d say some shit like that. Why don’t you be a good girl and come ride this dick then?” He shoves your face away, but the roughness only turns you on even more. You straddle his hips, his hand pulling your lace panties to the side as you position him at your entrance. Both of you gasp as you sink down on him, the stretch quickly filling you up, your tight walls clamping against him.

“Fuck daddy, feels so good,” you whine. When he’s all the way in, you lean back on your hands in the cowgirl position, giving him the best view of where your bodies are connected. You feel so exposed in this position, but he can’t keep his eyes off your core as you move your hips, which makes you feel powerful under his glare. You know he loves it just as much as you do, giving him a show as you ride him.

A thought comes into your head, pulling out but quickly turning around so that your backside is facing him. You slide down on him again, his hands gripping your waist. You can move your hips faster in this position, setting a quick pace and slamming your hips against his. He’s lost in the way your ass bounces on top him. You let out a loud whine when his hand lands a hard slap on your ass cheek.

“I can’t do that when we’re in my office,” he lands another one to the same cheek, “but now I can.” He wants to see you red with his handprints, enjoying your little yelps at the sting. You clench around him each time he spanks you, doing so particularly hard but you can’t deny that you like the pain. By the last spank, your ass is on fire, but his large hands smoothing over them soon makes you forget about the pain.

Suddenly, you’re being yanked back by your hair, thrown on your side as he spoons you. Lifting one of your legs up, he slides into you from behind. The new position introduces a new angle for him to fuck you. “Oh shit, fuck, oh my god,” you can only curse as he abuses your core deliciously. Instead of using the tie, he wraps his hand around your throat to choke you. You grip his forearm, letting him use your body to his content.

“Your pussy is so good baby,” he growls in your ear. “So tight, so wet, I could fuck you all night. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You mumble incoherently as a response, too gone in the pleasure he’s sending throughout your body. You let out a choked scream as his hand that’s holding your leg up finds your sensitive nub, bringing you closer to the edge as he tells you how much he loves fucking you. Your legs shake as the pleasure overwhelms you, but he holds you close to keep you from going too far.

“Don’t run away, I know you can take it doll.”

“Daddy please,” you beg shamelessly but you don’t even know what you’re begging for. You want him to keep ravaging you, but you physically don’t know if you can keep up.

Mr. Suh makes the decision for you, pulling out of you to stand at the edge of the bed. He grabs your ankles, dragging your body towards him. He holds your legs together, pushing them towards your chest. He slides right back in, wasting no time in fucking you again. He loves watching his dick slide in and out of you, loves hearing you moan his name, loves how tight you get for him. You let your legs fall open, sitting up on your elbows to watch him fuck you. There’s something insanely hot about watching you take every inch of him, you can see why he enjoys it so much.

Your breasts bounce with each thrust, which makes him grab handfuls of your tits, pinching your nipples. “Baby, can I take a video of you? I won’t get your face in it, you just look so good in this lingerie right now.” You nod, feeling a surge of confidence at his words. He reaches for his phone on the nightstand, opening the camera and pressing record. He slows his thrusts, sliding into you slowly to show off how wet you are. The camera pans to your bra, giving them a squeeze for the video. He shoves your hand away, pulling your breasts out of your bra. He tugs on the tie, making sure not to get your face but still showing your makeshift collar off.

Without warning, he speeds his hips up again, earning a cry from you before ending the video and throwing his phone on the bed. He’s so riled up, he just wants to use you to finish. “You gonna cum for me daddy?” God, he loves hearing you beg for him. You sound so sweet saying the dirtiest things. “Cum for me please, I want it so bad, want you to cum in my mouth.”

“Oh shit baby,” he pulls out quickly, grabbing your hair and shoving himself in your mouth, his warm release all on your tongue. You swallow every last drop, sucking him off as he groans at the slight overstimulation.

He takes a second to catch his breath, noticing your not so innocent eyes looking up at him eagerly. A playful smile spreads across your face and he knows that look all too well.

You’re insatiable.

***********************************************

The next semester, you’re moving into a new dorm. Your parents are here to help you move everything in. You notice Mr. Suh’s son moving into the same dorm, looking around for a glimpse of him. He’s carrying a box of things from the car to the front entrance, stopping you for a quick “hello Miss Y/N, how was your break?”

He looks behind you, asking if those are your parents. “Maybe I should say something to them.”

“What are you gonna say?”

“Oh, I don't know, maybe something like: your girl calls me daddy too,” he jokes as you storm off, cheeks flushing red.

[reidgraygubler]

sounds like sweet talk to my ears (spencer reid/fem!reader)

Title: Sounds Like Sweet Talk to My Ears

Request: kinda, it was already written but someone asked for it to be posted

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: smut, fluff (18+ CONTENT!)

Content Warning:  age gap between two consenting adults (Reader is 22. So it’s 15 years), swearing, sexual content (fingering, bathtub sex (?), groping, penetrative sex/creampie, hand kink), falling in love with a sugar daddy, mildly ooc spencer, light drinking, Sugar daddy!Spencer, sugar daddy relationship, mentions of under-aged drinking (in the past)

Word Count: 4,507

Summary: Reader and Spencer go on vacation where their relationship develops.

A/N: few things, this authors note might be a little long. And im sorry for that. This was written for a full length fic with mgg as the person. But i have heavily edited it to be for spencer instead. So if there are any weird things, or spencer being way out of character, that is why. Like i said this was originally going to be a full length fic (this was previously written!!), but i have since stopped writing it, i think i have one other part that is right after this, so if this part goes good, i’ll probably post the next part. secondly, this was also written for a friend of mine, who is 22, that is why the age gap is so big between reader and spencer. It was also written an original character, but i tried my best to make it be reader insert friendly (lots of petnames and nicknames)...  someone on my nsfw blog (@reidsprincess​ ) asked about this, bc i found this gif that reminded me of this particular fic. Anyways… thanks for the love! Check out my masterlist! 

~*~* THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT!! *~*~

{***}{***}{***}

“This place is beautiful,” I gasped once we were both in the small beach bungalow room. It was more grandiose than the last place we stayed in. The whole place was cozy and comfortable. This was a place I was never expected to be in...

 The front door was connected to the living room, it was a comfortable room, two loveseats, and two armchairs. A flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall across from the furniture. And the kitchen was attached to the living room, separating the two with a breakfast bar and stools. The kitchen itself was better than the kitchen in my apartment. I was jealous of the owner of this home. Flowers and lit candles sat on every open surface.

The kitchen had a set of sliding glass doors, which opened up onto a patio. And that held outdoor furniture, and table and chairs set. Something told me it also housed a jacuzzi, and I was more than excited to utilize that later. The bedroom and bathroom were tuck elsewhere, but I had a feeling that it was as beautiful as the rest of the home.

The house sat on the beach. The sand was pure white and the water was perfectly blue. I couldn’t wait to run and play in the sand. As childish as that sounds… I’ve never been to the beach, so this is all new to me.

“Spencer,” I looked behind my shoulder and at him. He looked down at me with a smile as he set the luggage down on the ground beside him.

“How about,” Spencer pressed his lips to my ear and whispered. His fingers danced across my bare arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I shuddered and smiled softly. “I go run us a bath, while you order food? Dinner with dessert? Champagne?” he offered, dropping his hand to the hem of my shirt. I chuckled lightly and pushed his hand off me. 

“That’s your idea of a perfect evening?” I asked, turning around to face him. “Dinner and a bath?” I chuckled lightly. He was looking down at me; the smile on his lips told me everything I needed to know. That he needed me right now more than I needed him. Although, I don’t think it’s possible for him to need me more than I needed him.

“Any evening with you is a perfect evening,” he whispered, lifting his hand to rest on my cheek. His hand fell down the side of my cheek and rested under my jaw, his thumb rested on the apple of my chin. I grinned as the familiar feeling of butterflies grew in my tummy. 

“Oh you be quiet,” I whispered as I lifted my arms to wrap around his neck. He hummed before pressing a kiss to my lips. I hummed, pulling him down more so we were more so eye level. He wrapped his free arm around my waist and pulled me so I was close to his body. I breathed out a laugh through my nose. After a second, he pulled away from me and kept his eyes on me. “I guess you’re in luck then,” I smiled, placing my hands on his cheeks.

“How so?” he whispered, pressing his face into my hands. I smiled and went onto my toes.

“Because our perfect evenings sound very similar,” I whispered and pecked his lips, “Every evening with you is perfect,” I smiled before walking away from him.

“What… What are you doing, Sunshine?” Spencer asked in a complaining tone as I walked towards the kitchen. I looked over my shoulder at him as I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

“Dinner?” I waved my phone in the air, “What do you want?” I looked back at my phone and smiled.

“Whatever you want will be fine,” he came back up to me and kissed me again before going towards the bathroom, “Bubbles?” he called before stepping into the bathroom. I laughed as I pressed my phone to my ear.

“You know me so well, Spence!” I smiled and sat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. I looked around the kitchen and living room, taking in the beautiful decor. I wonder how he knew about this place...

I quickly ordered food before finding my way to the bathroom. And, the bathroom was just as impressive as the rest of the house. One wall was just a window that faced the beach. And a large white bathtub sat in front of the window. A shower was tucked in the wall, just so it was out of the way, but even that was beautiful. And of course, it had a toilet and sink. 

“Do you… Live here?” I asked, watching as Spencer was filling the tub. “Or like… Do you own this house? I mean… This is just. This is a beautiful house,” I leaned against the counter and looked at him. He stood up from the tub and looked at me. 

“Sometimes…” he paused as he looked around the bathroom. Sometimes? How do you sometimes live somewhere? “On the very rare occasion, when I have time off… I take my mother down here for a week. She loves the beach and the ocean and the sand in her toes,” he smiled as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt down. Okay, I guess that makes sense. “You order dinner?” he asked, resting his hands on the counter beside me. I looked up at him and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, dinner’s ordered and on its way here,” I nodded and rested a hand on his chest. He quirked an eyebrow and smiled softly.

“What’d you order?” he rested his hands on my waist. I smiled and cocked my head to the side, allowing his hands to wander up my sides.  

“I’m sorry, it’s a surprise. I don’t want to tell you,” I smiled at him. Spencer wrinkled his nose before kissing my forehead. I let out a breath of air and shrugged. “You’ll find out in 20 minutes. You should save some space in the bath for hot water,” I poked his nose before sneaking away from his arms. He grasped my wrists and pulled me back so I was in front of him.

“Where are you going?” he asked, looking down at me. I flashed my brightest smile and shrugged.

“Champagne,” I batted my eyelashes. Spencer laughed and nodded. “You still want a glass or do you want to get in the bath now?” I offered as I walked back towards the kitchen. 

“As always,” Spencer followed behind me. “I’ll grab a bottle, you get the glasses?” he asked, going towards a mini wine cooler. I nodded and opened a cabinet. I opened a few before finally pulling out two glasses.

“If this is your mother’s place, why aren’t there any photos of your family?” I asked, leaning on the counter as I sipped my beverage. Spencer turned and looked at me, leaning across from me on the counter.

“We rent it out on season.” He replied, looking down at his glass. I nodded.

“What does that mean?” I asked, feeling mildly stupid. He looked at me with a smile. “Sorry. But you gotta remember that I’m an elementary school teacher’s assistant… Who's poor. I have an apartment that I can barely afford… Not two houses, one of which I rent out.” I pointed out. Spencer laughed and nodded. “Or did you think I was just sleeping with you for fun,” I leaned over the counter to kiss his lips. 

“Hurt,” he placed his hand on his chest in a mockery of hurt. I smiled at him and cocked my head. He looked back at me with a small smile on his lips. “Basically, when we’re not here, we rent it out… But we don’t have too many people staying here,” he chuckled before sipping his drink. “As for sleeping with me just for fun? I didn’t know it was just for fun,” he pouted. I smiled and shrugged. 

“Can’t forget about that paycheck too,” I smiled at him and winked. Spencer looked at me with raised eyebrows, causing me to laugh. “And, I think the fun is just an added bonus feature…” I laughed, throwing my head back. “I thought what we were was just money and sex? Nothing more,” I whispered, leaning on the counter. Spencer looked at me and shrugged.

“It could be more than that,” he smiled. I lowered my glass to the countertop and stared at him.  I could feel my lips trying to pull into a smile, but the longer I stared at him, the more I wished this wasn’t a dream. Because that’s all it felt like when I was with him. A dream.

“Surely… You can’t be serious, Spencer,” I whispered, finally looking away from him. Spencer lifted his hand and rested it on my cheek, carefully turning my head back to look at him.

“I’ve never been serious like this before, Sunshine. And, please, don’t call me Shirley,” he whispered, poking my nose. I smiled and leaned over the counter again, kissing his lips. 

“Only if you’re serious, Spencer. I understand you’re a busy man yourself, with all that saving people with the FBI,” I whispered. He nodded, keeping his hand on my face. I wasn’t exactly sure if he was being serious, mostly because he’s a bit older than me and most people my age (and his age) don’t take such a big age gap.

A knock on the door caused us both to look that direction. I looked back at him and smiled. “Oh no. What’d you order?” He asked, watching me bounce towards the front door. I pulled the door open and met the delivery man with a smile.

“Thank you very much,” I smiled and took the food and pressed the door shut. “I got pizza because I really wanted pepperoni pizza,” I looked at him as I held the box up. Spencer laughed and nodded as he grabbed the two champagne glasses and bottle.

“I’m okay with having pizza,” he smiled before taking the lead back to the bathroom. I held the box in a tight grip as I followed behind him. “Although, I never pictured pizza to be a fancy dinner before a bath,” he looked over at me with a quirked eyebrow. I laughed before I sat on the ground.

“I mean, you are the one who put me in charge of ordering dinner,” I looked at him, watching as he sat on the ground across from me. He sat against the cabinets of the sink counter. I shoved his food towards him and smiled. “It just shows we have two different tastes. I mean, remember the first night we met. You ordered room service for steak and chicken alfredo,” I pointed out as I pulled my food out of the bag. “I’m a simple woman. I like pepperoni pizza,” I smiled at him.

“I think I’ll put you in charge of ordering food more often,” Spencer smiled at me as he went for a slice of pizza. 

“I think that’s a good idea,” I grinned. “I’ll be sure to eat quick. I’ve never been so ready for a bath in my entire life,” I spoke as I moved to sit closer to him. 

“Take your time. We have all the time in the world, Princess,” he smiled as he sipped his champagne. I felt my face warm up a bit as I looked away from him. Something about the petname he has for me just gets me going, and I love it. He definitely knew that too, that I loved the petname of Princess. 

“Glad to know that,” I giggled as I looked at my mostly-empty glass. 

{***}{***}{***}

“More champagne, Princess?” Spencer’s voice was low as he held up the bottle that was now mostly empty. I lolled my head back onto his shoulder and rested my elbows on his knees (I was sitting between his legs in the bath) and held up my glass. 

“I would love more,” I whispered, watching him pour too much into my glass. I hummed happily, telling him it was enough. He placed the bottle back on the stool and wrapped both arms back around my body. The bathwater was warm and matched with how much booze I was drinking, I knew I was beyond intoxicated. I’m sure Spencer’s presence only fueled that feeling. No, it 100% added to that feeling. I knew that. And, he knew that. He knew he had a way with me that no other man would have, or ever have even.

“You should pace yourself, Princess,” Spencer whispered, pressing his lips to my shoulder. I giggled before sipping my drink, telling him I shouldn’t. His breath of air fanned over my skin as he began pressing kisses to my neck. 

“You, Spencer, should stop giving me alcohol,” I looked up at him as best I could. He smiled and kissed me again. “Besides... you’ve had just as much... as me,” I spoke through tiny hiccups. Spencer chuckled and rubbed my shoulders before pressing his lips back to them. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as the unknown tension slipped away. Damn his touch.

“Okay, that’s fair,” he murmured into my skin. "However, I've been drinking for sixteen years. You, Sunshine, are only 22 and have only been drinking a year,” he stated like I would follow the rules. I held back the cackle that so desperately wanted to escape my lips. Me? Follow the rules?? Never ever… This should be a fun thing to tell him.

"True… But I have been drinking since I was 18," I smiled and nodded. I sipped my champagne as I rested my head back on his chest. Spencer made a sound of disapproval which only made me laugh. Oh yeah, that’s right… Under aged drinking is illegal… and he is an FBI agent...  “Okay, since when have you known me to follow the rules? I’m dating a man 15 years older than me,” I pointed out. 

"Oh, you naughty girl." Spencer playfully scolded me. I pouted before humming again.

“Yes, but I’m your naughty girl,” I laughed, arching my back a little bit. I felt his hand travel from my stomach and to my thighs. I hummed as I got a little more comfortable for what he was about to do. “Starting early,” I teased. Spencer let out a breathy laugh. He gently pressed his lips to my throat, right on my pulse point. I gasped lightly as he parted his lips and sucked a spot on my neck. I held my glass just outside of the tub. 

“I’d rather have champagne in the bath than champagne and glass on the floor,” he kept his voice low as he pulled my hand back over the bath. I laughed and shook my head. “Is this okay,” he asked as his other hand traveled a bit more upwards, towards me.

“It’s always okay,” I whispered, taking a deep breath of air. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, I wouldn’t be surprised if Spencer could feel and hear it. 

“Let me take this,” he spoke, taking my glass from my hands. I let out a sound of protest as he took my glass and pressed my head into his chest. He chuckled as he placed the glass on the stool beside the empty bottle. “You can have it back,” he spoke in a mocking tone. I pouted and dropped my head to my shoulder. “In a minute,” he added, his tone becoming a little bit more smug. I rolled my eyes and let out a huff of air.

“Fine,” I whispered. Spencer chuckled again and placed his hand back on my thigh. I hummed happily and looked up at him. “Do you have to be such a tease all the time?” I pouted at him. He smiled and shrugged before dragging his hand closer to my center. 

“Could be more than a tease,” he replied in a whisper. I rolled my eyes and let out a deep breath of air. I carefully lifted my foot out of the water and rested it on the ledge of the tub. “Oh no, you’re gonna get water all over the floor,” he scolded.

“Oh no,” It was my turn to mock him. I smiled as I waved my foot in the air. Spencer hummed before pressing his lips to the side of my head. “A little bit of wet never killed anyone,” I snickered. Except, that snicker became a gasp when he pushed a finger past my folds. My eyes fluttered shut as my jaw stayed slack open. I pressed my back into his chest, feeling his arousal on my lower back. I nearly slipped under the water if Spencer hadn’t had his other arm around my waist, holding me safely against his body.

“Calm down there, Princess,” Spencer laughed as he held me up. I glared over my shoulder at him. “Don’t need you slipping under the water. I think you’re wet enough,” he added as his finger slowly circled my clit. My hands gripped the side of the tub and then moved to rest on his knees. 

“I fucking hate you,” I muttered but moaned towards the end of my statement. Spencer laughed as he pressed his lips to the side of my head. His other arm was pressed against my chest, keeping me still as I wiggled and writhed under his touch. A breathy moan fell from my lips as he picked up his pace.  

“No, I don’t think you do,” he whispered, keeping his lips close to my ear. My eyes fluttered shut as I dropped my head to the side. Spencer took this as his chance to press kisses across the space behind my ear, causing me to gasp lightly. Spencer hummed, pleased with how I was reacting to any sort of his touches. 

I lifted both my hands and gripped his arm as he slowly eased a finger into my center. I pressed my nails so hard into his arm, I wouldn’t be surprised if come morning he’d have crescent-shaped bruises there.

A man like Spencer who has hands as beautiful as his, he clearly knows what he’s doing. It’d be a sin if he didn’t. A loss for all of womankind. I guess that’s why I’m so pleased that it’s me under his hands right now and not a different girl. I quite literally love his hands, and the way he can just work his magic with his fingers, getting me going in a matter of minutes. He wasn’t lying when he said he was a magician. 

“You alright, Princess,” he asked, keeping his tone low as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of me, curling them just right. I hope the gasp I gave was a good response because I don’t think I knew words right now. My brain was getting fuzzy, and my belly was starting to grow tense. Like a coil deep within me was about to break. 

“S’close,” I mustered out. I swallowed roughly as he began rubbing my clit with the heel of his palm. My whimpers, gasps, and moans weren’t evenly timid as he picked up the pace, finally pushing me over the edge. 

I was a mess. There’s no other way of putting it. But, I’m always a mess when I’m with him. 

Spencer slowly withdrew his hand from between my legs and placed it over top of his other arm, embracing me like his life depended on it. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my breathing. A giggle fell from my lips as I threw my head back against his chest. Spencer hummed as he looked down at me.

“I love your fucking hands,” I turned my head and looked at him. Spencer smiled at me and laughed before pulling his hands off me to look at them. I took one of them in my own and looked at it, entranced by his veins and freckles peppered over the backside. It felt right for his hand to be in mine.

“Thank you… I guess. I think that’s a compliment,” he mused as he placed his arms back over my chest and kissed my cheek. “You good?” he asked, his thumbs rubbing my shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go dry off and get water. Better see you in the bedroom.” I smiled at him. He pressed another kiss to my face before allowing me to get out. 

“As you wish, Princess,” he smiled at me as I grabbed a towel. His eyes lingered on me for a moment as I wrapped the towel around my body. “I’ll be right behind you,” he added as I grabbed our glasses and empty champagne bottle. 

I smiled at him as I left the bathroom, making my way across towards the kitchen. True to my word, I got a glass of water and drank half of it in one sip. I grabbed a second glass and retreated back towards the bedroom. 

Spencer wasn’t finished in the bathroom, I could still hear him splashing around in the water. I grinned and shook my head as I stepped into the bedroom. I placed the two glasses on the nightstand. I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to finish. 

Not even two minutes later, Spencer entered the room, towel around his waist. I stared at him, my eyes lingering on his shoulders, down his arms to his hands, before flicking to gaze upon his belly and torso. I felt my lips twitch as I stood, leaving my towel behind. He smiled as I basically sprinted up to him.

I placed an open mouth kiss over his lips, putting my arms around his neck to pull him down to my height. I could feel his grin against my lips as our noses smooshed together. His arms wrapped around my waist as he brought us to the bed. 

“You’re so eager, Princess,” he muttered against my lips. I hummed as I threaded my fingers through his hair. That action elicited a moan from his lips, making me smile. He gently pushed me against the bed, standing at the foot as I got myself to lie at the pillows. The way he looked at me told me he was pleased with how the night was going to end. And honestly, I understood. 

He dropped his towel from his hips, letting it fall to the floor, before kneeling on the bed. I took a deep breath as I stared at him, keeping my eyes on my face. I knew if they wandered any further, I’d become a puddle right there. Well, more of a puddle than I already was.

Spencer smiled at me as his fingers ghosted my legs. He gently placed a kiss on different parts of my body as he made his way up to my face. The bliss I felt was unexplainable as he grasped one of my hands and kissed my lips. 

He looked down at me, a small smile on his lips. My chest heaved as my breathing picked up once again. The kisses he pressed to the swells of my breasts made me feel like I was floating. That, or it was the softness of the mattress and bedding beneath us. 

“You ready for me, Princess?” he asked, pressing a knee between my legs, separating them so he could fit comfortably between them. I licked my lips and nodded, keeping my eyes on his. His nose twitched as a smile grew on his lips. He brought a hand to rest on my cheek. “I need to hear you say it,” he leaned close to my ear and whispered. 

“Yeah, yes… I’m always ready,” I swallowed roughly and nodded. Spencer pulled his hand from my face and moved it to my hip. I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him close to me. He smiled and kissed my lips, a simple distraction as he pressed his cock into me. The breath in my lungs was knocked from me, causing me to loud gasp. Spencer smiled against my lips. 

“You feel so good, Princess,” he groaned, dropping his head to my shoulder. It took a minute for either of us to move, adjusting to the feeling of each other. “Ready,” he asked, moving to place his forehead on mine. I swallowed and nodded, bringing my hands to rest on his cheeks. 

A smile twitched on his lips as he slowly started to move his hips. At first, it was an unsure rhythm but slowly grew in a slow and meaningful pace. His hands roamed my body before wrapping around my torso and holding me close. 

“Faster,” I panted, pulling my hands from his face and knotting them in his hair, again. He nodded, picking his pace. A familiar feeling in my belly, the coil winding, returned. The groans that fell from Spencer’s lips pushed me closer. 

“You’re doing so good, Princess,” his voice was low and rough as he spoke. 

I pulled a hand away from his head and brought it between our bodies. I began rubbing my clit, pushing me closer to the edge. Spencer’s thrusting grew more erratic.

“Come with me, please,” I whimpered, keeping my arm around him. He nodded and groaned as I clenched around him.  After a moment, we both became a mess. Moans and gasps of each other’s names filled the silent bedroom. 

Spencer stayed put above me for a minute, his arms around my body and holding me close. We took our time coming down from our shared high. A whimper escaped my lips as he pulled out from me and collapsed on the bed beside me.

“I got you water,” I panted, vaguely gesturing towards the two glasses of water on the nightstand. Spencer chuckled as he reached for a glass. I watched as he drank the water, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. I smiled at him, keeping my eyes on him. I knew I should look away, but I couldn’t. “You’re right, I don’t hate you,” I swallowed roughly and shook my head.

“I know I’m right,” he looked down at me with a smile. I rolled my eyes and watched him get off the bed. I furrowed my eyebrows and sat up. “I’m always right, Princess,” he looked over his shoulder and at me. I smiled and nodded as I got off the bed. 

“So much for taking a bath,” I rolled my eyes as I felt our mixture roll down my legs. “I’m gonna shower,” I smiled at him as I walked towards him. He pecked my lips and nodded. 

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” he poked my sides as I grabbed for my towel. I squealed and shook my head. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I smiled at him.

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @thebluetint​

[discoscoob]

Love’s Labours Won | Loki x Female Reader

Loki (Marvel) x Doctor Who

The TARDIS arrives in The Dark Ages where the Doctor tries to solve a mystery involving witchcraft. During your stay your relationship with Loki begins to develop due to a mix of a Shakespeare, jealousy and one bed.

Part Three | Part Five | Chapter Index

Words: 7.7k

Warnings: unwanted advances, mild homophobia, death: very minor characters, jealous Loki, swearing, angst, fluff and then more angst

Read on AO3

You were sat crossed legged in front of your floor length mirror, applying eyeliner when the whole room began jerking, which caused your hand to slip and left a long black line smudged over or eyelid. 

 You huffed in annoyance, as you pulled out a makeup wipe and began cleaning up the mistake, you decided that there was no point in attempting to try again as the whole TARDIS continued to quiver. 

 You climbed to your feet, still wiping your eye, as you stormed out of your bedroom with half your sight blocked by your makeup wipe. You failed to see Loki walking down the corridor at the exact same time and with the help of the turbulence, Loki lost his balance and stumbled into you, sending you both crashing into the wall.

 “Good morning.” You greeted Loki, almost sounding out of breath from the shock of your back impacting with the wall. His face was mere inches from yours, as you were trapped against the wall between both his arms, unlike the last time you found yourself in this position with the God, it was purely accidental this time.

 From the proximity you realised that today a light citrusy and floral scent surrounded him and from what you could see, he was wearing a solid black suit with a matching shirt and tie. The outfit made him appear even more powerful and intimidating than he usually did and despite the fact you were meant to be trying to push away any desires you had towards the God, your mind was encouraging you to just lean forward those last few inches and close the gaps between your lips.

 Before you could follow your own minds advice, Loki awkwardly cleared his throat as he took a step back away from you, while straightening out his suit jacket.

 “Good morning.” He repeated.

 You both continued your way towards the control room, occasionally bracing yourself against the walls whenever you felt as though you were about to lose balance. 

 “Did you have to pass a test to fly this thing?” You asked the Doctor, who was literally sprawled across the console, with his foot pushing a leaver, while his arm stretched out to the opposite side to turn a dial.

 Donna was clinging onto the rail for dear life, while you and Loki attempted to reach her side without falling flat on your backsides.

 “Yes, and I failed.” The Doctor distractedly answered. 

 “I can tell.” You replied, as the TARDIS jerked to an abrupt stop, you instinctively grabbed onto Loki’s arm to steady yourself and he put his own hand under your elbow to ensure you were stable.

 Behind Loki’s shoulder you saw Donna watching you and the God closely, you could tell that she still didn’t trust Loki. Feeling conscious of her stare you mumbled a quick thanks towards Loki before you extended the distance between the two of you, while the Doctor ran to the doors of the TARDIS.

 “Beyond this door lies a brave new world.” He announced with his back against the TARDIS doors, enthusiastic as ever.

 “I’m up for anything, as long as there aren’t any volcano’s and none of us get possessed.” Donna seemed happily pleased.

 “Oh Donna, the chances of that are low but never zero.” The Doctor cheekily smiled, before he turned on his heel causing the tail of his long brown trench coat to fan out behind him as he ran out the door. “Come on!” 

 When you stepped out of the TARDIS behind Donna, the first thing you noticed was that it was night but still humid, leading you to believe it was summertime and you noticed that you were surrounded by other humans which lead you to the conclusion that you were still on Earth. 

 The sound of horses hooves clicking against the cobblestone of the lively street, the attire of the people who occupied it and the medieval architecture of the buildings which aligned it all informed you that you had travelled backwards in time. 

 If you required further more indication, the foul waste which came pouring from the sky, barely missing you before Loki pulled you back, was the final confirmation you needed. You could hardly hold back the gag that threatened to rise at the back of your throat.

 “We’ve arrived somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Good to know.” The Doctor commented.

 “Listen, I’m all for time travel yeah, but that’s disgusting. I’m gonna nip to the loo on the TARDIS before we explore, I don’t wanna end up shitting in a bucket.” Donna announced before she retreated back inside the blue box, the door squeaked shut behind her.

 “I always knew you were a primitive species but that is truly a testament to how far you have come in your short lives, it is positively awe-inspiring.” Loki remarked and you glanced at him with narrowed eyes, as you tried to decipher whether to be offended or take it as a compliment. 

 “So, this is London?” You eventually asked the Doctor, while you all waited for your auntie outside the TARDIS.

 “Think so,” the Doctor let his eyes wander over the street, “round about, ooh... 1599. If I’m right, we’re just down the river, by Southwark, right next to the Globe Theatre, brand new, just opened! Though strictly speaking, it’s not a globe, it’s a tetradecagon, because of its 14 sides.” 

 “What’s that?” Donna asked, after stepping back outside the TARDIS, having caught just the end of the Doctors sentence.

 “I was just saying, the Globe Theatre isn’t technically a globe, it’s a tetradecagon, it has 14 sides.” The Doctor repeated to Donna, who pulled a face.

 “You’re always so pedantic,” Donna shook her head. “Why would they ever call it the Tetra-thingy Theatre?” 

 “Tetradecagon.” The Doctor corrected.

 “See, pedantic.” Donna pointed out, and the Doctor looked insulted.

 “As I was saying,” the Doctor returned to his original point while he glared at Donna, “the man himself should be there tonight.”

 “Shakespeare?” Loki’s interest peaked.

 “You know who Shakespeare is?” Your eyebrows lifted with surprise as you turned to Loki.

 “Believe it or not, unlike everyone on Earth, we aren’t sheltered on Asgard. What can you tell me of the Nine Realms?” Loki paused to give you a chance to answer, but your lips remained sealed as your eyes bounced around in thought. “That’s what I thought.” 

  ***

 The Doctor had lead the way to the Globe Theatre and managed to sneak all four of you inside with the use a wallet, containing a blank piece of paper, which he had explained was called psychic paper. It allowed the person who looked upon it, to see whatever the Doctor presented it as, when he had said it was tickets to the performance you were let in without any bother.

 Inside the theatre was filled to the brim, the four of you were cramped near the back of the stalls. The smell wasn’t particularly pleasant, unfortunately deodorant and other essential hygiene products weren’t invented yet but since you were stood by Loki’s side his delicious and fresh scent performed as a buffer over the foul odour and you found yourself almost snuggling into his chest as the play went on.

 Once all the cast were bowing at the end of the performance, the crowd began chanting ‘author’ commanding that Shakespeare himself make an appearance on stage.

 With his arms raised above his head and a flamboyant skip, William Shakespeare entered the stage and the cheers, whistles and applause grew even louder. He blew kisses toward the crowd, as he confidently walked back and forth across the stage, occasionally he leant down to brush the hands of the audience members below, who desperately reached out their arms in the hopes they might get to touch the renowned poet.

 In the flesh, Shakespeare appeared to be a lot more attractive than any of his portraits ever suggested. He had a head full of wavy golden brown locks and a beard to match. 

 “He’s a bit different to his portraits.” You commented to no one in particular, as you continued to enthusiastically clap along with everyone else.

 “Genius. He’s a genius. The genius, the most human human there’s ever been. And now we’re gonna hear him speak! Always, he chooses the best words, new beautiful, brilliant words...” The Doctor excitedly spoke.

 “He is one of the finer Midgardian poets. I have read most of his work, he is truly gifted with his language.” Loki added.

 “Shut ya big fat mouths!” Shakespeare merrily exclaimed to his audience, who erupted into laughter, while the Doctors and Loki’s faces fell with disappointment and they halted their applause. 

 “Oh Gods, he sounds just like my brother after one too many.” Loki realised with alarm.

 “I know what you’re all saying, Love’s Labours Lost, that’s a funny ending, isn’t it? It just stops!” Shakespeare clicked his fingers to put emphasis on the abrupt ending. “Will the boys get the girls? Well, don’t get your hose in a tangle, you’ll find out soon.”

 “When?” The audience eagerly chanted.

 “All in good time, you don’t rush a genius.” The poet lowered himself into an elegant bow before he abruptly shot back up again. 

 “When?” Shakespeare repeated his audiences question. “Tomorrow night!”

 The theatre erupted into raucous applause.

 “The premier of my brand new play! A sequel, no less! And I call it Love’s Labours Won!” You and Donna continued clapping, oblivious to the suspicious glance the Doctor and Loki shared with one another over your heads.

 ***

 “I can’t say I have ever heard of Love’s Labours Won.” Donna announced, as you were exiting the theatre, still huddled in a large crowd.

 “Me neither, is it one of his more obscure works?” You looked over your shoulder to inquire with the Doctor, who easily stood a whole head and shoulders above the crowd surrounding you, as did Loki, who was walking beside you.

 “Well, the thing is, it doesn’t exist, only in rumours. It’s mentioned lists of his plays, but never, ever turns up and no one knows why.” The Doctor explained, adding a tone of mystery to his voice as he quirked his expressive eyebrows.

 Your interest peaked almost instantly, you noticed Donna’s had too as you both shared an inquisitive look, eager to discover more about this missing play.

 “But how did it disappear in the first place?” Donna asked.

 “Well... I suppose we could stay a bit longer and find out.” The Doctor suggested, to which you and Donna shared excited smiles. 

 ***

 You collectively made the decision to spend the night in one of the inns, to not only get the full experience but the Doctor knew of which one Shakespeare occupied, this allowed him the opportunity to keep a vigilant eye on the poet, in the hopes of discovering what caused the disappearance of Love’s Labours Won.

 “Hello! Excuse me, not interrupting, am I?” The Doctor asked as he knocked on the side of the doorway, “Mr Shakespeare, isn’t it?” 

 You followed into the room behind the Doctor with Loki close behind you and Donna entering last, to find the famous writer lounging at a desk as he drank from a tin cup, with two of the actors from his play sat in front of him.

 “Oh, no. No, no, no, who let you in?” Shakespeare pinched the bridge of his nose. “No autographs. You can’t be sketched with me and please don’t ask where I get my ideas. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove...”

 Shakespeare finally removed his fingers from the bridge of his nose and raised his hand into a shoo motion, but as he lifted his eyes to look at the Doctor they instead landed on you and his words died on his tongue. 

 “Hey nonny, nonny,” the playwright addressed you, as he suddenly sat up straight and gestured to the seat beside him. “Sit right down here next to me.” 

 Your eyes slightly widened at the interest Shakespeare displayed in you, while behind you no one noticed the way Loki had begun looking upon the poet with a shadow cast over his eyes. The innkeeper entered the room and placed her hands on the shoulders of the two actors, who were sat before Shakespeare.

 “Come on, lads, I think our William’s found his new muse.” She encouraged them to make themselves scarce, while Shakespeare rose from his seat.

 “Sweet lady,” he continued to address you as he beckoned you over to the chair one of the actors previously occupied, you politely smiled at him as you lowered yourself into the chair and he sank back into his own. 

 The Doctor sat down in the chair beside you and Donna sat on his other side, so he was sandwiched between the two of you, while Loki lingered in the back, where no one could notice the way his gaze menacingly lingered on Shakespeare.

 “I’m Sir Doctor of TARDIS and these are my companions,” the Doctor listed off your names, as he held up his wallet containing the psychic paper, which he had used to enter the Globe Theatre with, in front of William.

 “Interesting. That bit of paper, it’s blank.” Shakespeare pointed out, it appeared he was immune to the papers psychic powers.

 “Oh, that’s... very clever.” The Doctor raised his eyebrows as he let his hand holding the wallet fall limp. “That proves it. Absolute genius.”

 “Who are you, exactly?” William rested his elbow on the table and leaned forward as propped his cheek upon his fist, while he returned his attention to you. “More to the point who is your delicious lady?” 

 Donna raised her eyebrows as she looked between you and the poet. “She’s my niece.” Your auntie stated, capturing the writers attention.

 “Your niece is very captivating.” Shakespeare informed your auntie.

 “And you’re very married.” Donna countered, clearly disapproving of his flirtatious manner towards you.

 Near the back of the room, Loki’s lips lifted in a proud smile as he watched Donna shut down Shakespeare.

 “Excuse me! Hold hard a moment!” A large, heavy and bearded man, wearing a pleated collar, black robes and an elaborate gold necklace which rested over his shoulders, invited himself into the room and grabbed everyone’s attention.

 “This is absolutely abominable behaviour, a new play, with no warning! I demand to see a script, Mr Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me, before it can be performed!” He lectured the playwright, who stroked his beard in an idle manner.

 “Tomorrow morning, first thing, I’ll send it round.” The experienced writer calmly answered. 

 “I don’t work to your schedule, you work to mine! The script, now!” The man demanded. 

 “I can’t!” Shakespeare finally raised his voice.

 “Then tomorrow’s performance is cancelled. Love’s Labours Won will never be played.” The man concluded, before showing himself out the room.

 “I guess that answers our questions about Love’s Labours Won. I thought it was going to be a bit more exciting than that. It usually is with you, Doctor.” Donna sighed disappointedly.

 Almost as if on cue, the shrill sound of a woman’s scream was heard from the street outside and you all stood to attention.

 “Sounds like I spoke to soon.” Donna remarked, before the Doctor sprung from his chair and dashed out the room with the rest of you following on his tail, including Shakespeare.

 Once you were all out on the street, you saw the man who had declared the cancellation of Love’s Labours Won, stumbling around and clutching at his neck as he repeatedly threw up what appeared to be water. 

 “Leave it to me, I’m a doctor.” The Doctor announced, as he rushed to the man’s aid, although he barely reached him before the man collapsed to the floor with a choked groan of pain, as water continued to pour out his mouth. 

 The man lay motionless on the straw covered cobblestone street and it appeared to be too late for the Doctor to do anything as he checked his pulse with a grim expression.

 The Doctor stood to his feet to address the innkeeper, who had come out to witness the commotion.

 “Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural, if unfortunate demise. Call a constable, have him taken away.” The Doctor instructed her, before he crouched back down by the body. 

 You followed Donna as she joined the Doctors side, you knelt on the opposite side of the body across from Donna and the Doctor and Loki settled beside you. 

 “What actually happened to him?” Donna whispered to the Doctor, understanding that what he had told the innkeeper was a lie.

 “If I’m not mistaken, it looks like witchcraft.” The Doctor suspected, his tone deadly serious.

 “Before anyone points their finger at me, I’m not a witch. I’m a sorcerer, there is a difference.” Loki proclaimed his innocence.

 “No one is blaming you.” You assured him.

 “I’m usually the first suspect when something goes wrong.” Loki explained, with a small laugh to keep it light but you still frowned, imagining how frustrating it must be to constantly be seen as the black sheep. 

 ***

 You all solemnly returned to the inn, the unexpected death of the man who had wanted to cancel Love’s Labours Won, had inspired the Doctor to stay in order to get to the bottom of it. 

 The innkeeper had accommodated the four of you with the last two unoccupied rooms of the inn, however almost looked ready to kick you all out onto the streets when Donna had suggested the Doctor and Loki take one room, while she and you take the other.

 “Two men will not lie together under my roof.” She muttered ever so quietly, as if it were far too scandalous to be said out loud.

 “The dark ages.” The Doctor sighed, while he dragged his palm down his face. “Miss Noble likes to jest,” he assured the innkeeper, who eyed the four of you suspiciously before reluctantly leaving. 

 “I broke that rule a long time ago.” Shakespeare spoke through a chuckle.

 “Oh, 57 academics just punched the air.” The Doctor muttered to himself, causing you to let out a small snort of laughter.

 ***

 Due to the innkeepers rules surrounding sleeping arrangements, this resulted in the Doctor and Donna sharing one room, while you and Loki shared the other, the rooms were situated on opposite sides of the inn.

 You and Loki stared at the double bed, both wondering who was going to be the first to break the silence. Inside your mind you were freaking out, but you didn’t let it show on your exterior, you were meant to be trying to forget these thoughts about Loki which occupied your mind, sharing a bed with him for the night would only make it worse.

 The God wordless walked further into the room, the floor loudly creaked beneath each step he took, as did the mattress once he lowered himself onto it in a sitting position, with his back turned to you. 

 He removed his tie and hung it around the post at the bottom of the bed, followed by his suit jacket and then his shoes, your heartbeat was rising with every item of clothing he removed wondering how much further he would go, but luckily he stopped there rested back onto the bed, with his pillows propped against the headboard.

 “Are you going to stand there all night?” Loki casually commented, noticing you hadn’t moved an inch since entering the room.

 You swallowed and softly moved towards the bed, noticing the floor boards didn’t creak as loudly beneath your feet and once you sat on your side of the bed, with your back turned to Loki, you copied his previous movements and began removing your shoes.

 “Shakespeare seems fond of you.” Loki remarked, as he picked at some loose thread on the blanket beneath him and you paused your actions. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could sense a certain edge to his voice that made you believe that he wasn’t only making casual conversation. 

 “Those are words I never imagined would be said towards me.” You lightly chuckled, as you resumed your movements, before you slowly shuffled up the bed to lie beside Loki.

 “It must feel nice to capture the attention of such a renowned figure of your realm.” Loki continued, and you wished instead that you could’ve captured the God’s attention in the same way.

 “I suppose,” you shrugged, despite the fact that you could admit the man was far more attractive in person than he is depicted in any of his portraits, his attempts at flirting with you hadn’t so much made you swoon but rather made you feel awkward.

 “He reminds me of my brother, you would like him.” Loki told you. “The same golden hair, the same confidence-”

 “He’s not really my type.” You quickly admitted, causing Loki to pause for a moment.

 Without looking you could tell Loki had turned on his side towards you, as you felt the uncomfortable mattress shift beneath your back. He had propped his head up on his elbow, while his other arm rested on the dip of his waist.

 “What would you describe ‘your type’ as?” Loki curiously inquired.

 You. You answered in your mind, while your lips remained sealed as you pretend to be giving it some thought while you focused on nervously fidgeting with your fingers over your stomach. 

 Eventually you lifted your eyes to Loki, his were already unapologetically focused on you. As you silently watched him from under your lashes, you willed him to read your mind from your stare alone and from the way his eyes darted over your face, you could tell he was trying.

 The candlelight which luminated the room, cause his eyelashes to cast shadows over his defined cheeks when his gaze paused on your lips for a moment too long, he drew his own lips inward to moisten them as his eyes slowly rose back to yours. 

 You leaned towards him, ever so slightly and nervously swallowed as he moved the hand he was using to support his head, to brush some loose strands of hair away from your face. His other arm made the mattress dip beside your waist, as he used it to support his weight as he leaned his upper body over you.

 His long hair fell untidily around his face and you hesitantly reached out your own hand to tuck one side of it behind his ear, surprised by how silky it felt against your fingertips. You let your palm cradle his sharp jaw as he slowly lowered his own face towards yours and both your eyelids fell shut as you waited to feel the sensation of the others lips moving against your own, but just as you felt his warm breath fan against your skin, an ear piercing scream caused you to shoot up with alarm and your forehead to smack against Loki’s.

 “Fuck!” You both cried in unison as you cradled your throbbing foreheads in your palms. The sound of loud footsteps running past your door from the hallway outside, reminded you of what caused you to startle in the first place and you quickly jumped from your bed, ignoring the way the pain in your head protested against it and rushed after the sound of the footsteps down the stairs. 

 “She died of fright.” You heard the Doctor conclude, as you turned through the doorway to the study Shakespeare was working in, to find the time lord leaning over the innkeeper’s dead body. Your auntie was stood at the open window, as if searching for something, and Shakespeare looked dazed as he sat at his desk with confusion written all over his face.

 “I don’t like how this is turning into the plot of Clue.” You commented, before you jumped when you heard footsteps behind you, only to relax when you saw they belonged to Loki.

 “Doctor!” Donna called from the window, and he immediately rushed over to catch what she was looking at but unfortunately it seemed he wasn’t quick enough.

 “What did you see?”

 “A witch.” Your auntie answered, as if she could hardly believe herself.

 ***

 During the early hours of the morning, the innkeepers body had been removed by a coroner and the Doctor had stayed up until the crack of dawn began to peak through the inn’s windows, trying to figure out how the sudden deaths and the witchcraft all linked to the disappearance of Love’s Labours Won.

 You and Loki provided little help, hardly listening to the Doctor as he voiced his thoughts loud. You were both to occupied with distracting one other, as you kept glancing at each other from across the room, the tension between the both of you had been building ever since your chance to share a kiss was stolen away from you. 

 Looking around the room, you could see everyone was caught up with trying to come up with explanations for what was happening and you realised you could probably slip out the room without anyone noticing or at least not paying it much attention.

 Giving Loki a look which made a crease form between his eyebrows you rose from your chair and quietly made your way towards the door leading to the hallway, you paused once more under the arch of the doorway and gave Loki another look, which caused his eyebrows to rise with understanding, before you disappeared into the hallway.

 You walked up the stairs and entered the room you and Loki were sharing, hoping he would figure out where to find you, you sat on the bottom of the bed as you waited.

 It wasn’t long until you heard footsteps approaching the room, no one could ever hope to move around quietly on the floorboards of the inn. The doorway to your room was lower than the others, which meant when Loki walked through it he had to duck his head. After he gently shut the door behind him, he turned and paused with his back to the door, you were looking at him, from where you sat on the bed, with a wide smile as giggles threatened to rise from your stomach at the secrecy of it all.

 “I was meant to follow after you, right?” Loki checked, as he walked further into the room.

 You nodded as you rose to your feet and met him halfway.

 “I’ve never done this before,” Loki bashfully admitted, as he looked down. “Sneak away with someone in secret, I mean.”

 “You never had anyone to sneak away with in that big old palace on Asgard?” You asked, putting little effort into hiding your surprise. “I assume you lived in a palace, I don’t actually know…”

 “Yes, I grew up in a palace,” Loki chuckled, “and no, there was no one to sneak away with in it, that was more Thor’s arena.”

 “I’ve never done this either,” you confessed, “I had visions of myself waiting here and you not showing up because I didn’t make myself clear enough and then having to return to the room pretending I just took a piss in a bucket.” 

 Loki’s laughter grew louder and his smile wider, as crinkles appeared at the side of his eyes which lit up his entire face, you decided you would like to see this expression on him more.

 You reached your hand up to his face and gently rested your palm against his cheek and in return you felt his large hands engulf your hips as they gently pulled you closer. Your other hand rose to his shoulder and brushed along it until you curled your fingers around the back of his neck to slowly pull his face towards yours.

 This time you felt his lips mould against yours without any interruptions, his right hand left your hip to brush up to the small of your back, the back of your shirt slightly rode up with his hand, and he pulled you closer so your chests were flush, while your whole arm snaked around the back of his neck and you felt the tips of his soft hair tickle against your bare forearm.

 Blindly Loki guided you towards the bed, never lifting his lips from yours for one second. Once he felt the back of his calves hit the bed frame, he let himself fall onto the mattress, it let out a squeak as did you, and you giggled against his mouth as you made yourself comfortable in his lap with your legs resting on either side of his hips.

 His hands moved to hold you firmly around your waist as your palms rested on both his shoulders. Reluctantly, you pulled away from the kiss, and turned your head away to let out a yawn, exhausted from staying up until dawn.

 “I’m that boring, huh?” Loki joked, as his hands soothed up and down the sides of your ribs.

 “I’m sorry,” you hummed, as you gave him a small peck, “I guess my lack of sleep finally caught up with me.” 

 “You should rest,” Loki suggested, as he attached his lips to the column of your neck to leave feather light kisses, you let out a throaty groan in response as the tips of your fingers dug into his shoulders.

 “Will you stay with me?” You asked with closed eyes, as you tilted your head to the side to give him better access to your neck, you felt his hand climb up your spine, before his fingers buried themselves into your hair as he cradled the back of your head. “I know you don’t need as much sleep as humans do, but will you stay with me while I do?”

 Loki lifted his head from your neck to look at you, while his fingers which were buried in your hair, gently massaged over your scalp which sent a calming sensation running straight down your spine, relaxing you even further and making your eyelids heavier. 

 You couldn’t see it on his face, but Loki was shocked by the fact you trusted him enough to wish to sleep beside him. His lips parted ever so slightly, as he stared up at you through his lashes with wide eyes full of wonder. He didn’t know what to say, so he simply nodded, which caused you to tiredly smile and give him another small kiss as thanks.

 As you both moved up the bed, the mattress creaked and squeaked beneath you. Loki rested on his back and you crawled up to him and rested your head on his chest, you could feel it softly rise and fall and you could hear his heartbeat while his calming sent surrounded you, and they all worked together to help lull you off into a peaceful sleep.

 Before you drifted off, you felt Loki’s arm curl around your shoulders while the tips of his fingers softly brushed against your arm, causing goosebumps to rise where they travelled. 

 Loki planted a kiss on the top of your head, before he let his own eyes fall shut, deciding to give sleep a try even though he wasn’t feeling particularly tired.

 ***

 You were abruptly woken up by the sounds of screams and lightening coming from the street outside your room. Due to the fact none of the candles were lit, it was filled with darkness, the only thing luminating the room was an unsettling red glow, which shone through the windows of the inn. You shot up immediately and discovered Loki had fallen asleep, kneeling on the mattress beside him you put your hand on his shoulder and shook him awake.

 “What is it?” His voice sounded croaky from his sleep, he soon heard the screams and noticed the sinister red glow of the room, he jumped from the bed and rushed to the window and you followed after him, your jaw dropped and your hand came up to your mouth at what you saw.

 From your second story window of the inn, you had a perfect view of the Globe Theatre and right now storm clouds and lightening swirled around it, while luminous crimson smoke rose from the centre. On the streets below groups of people desperately rushed away from the theatre crying and screaming.

 “Donna and the Doctor are probably already at the theatre, we have to go!” You rushed back to the bed to pull on your shoes and Loki did the same.

 Once you were both ready, you ran out of the inn and into the chaos on the street. Loki took your hand in his as you both began running towards the Globe Theatre, so you wouldn’t get separated by the large crowds running against you. 

 When you reached the theatre, you saw the stage door was slightly ajar and ran straight towards it, pulling Loki along with you. 

 As soon as you reached the stage, and saw your auntie, the Doctor and Shakespeare all stood on it, you dropped Loki’s hand. You missed the way the God’s brows formed a crease while he looked down at your hand, as you were too distracted by the terrifying sight before you. 

 Your hair blew around your face wildly, as in the centre of the theatre there was what only could be described as a hurricane of scarlet mist and lightning bolts and dark horrifying figures flew around inside the swirling phenomenon.

 “Donna!” You called, as you rushed to her side.

 She called your name when she turned over her shoulder and saw you and pulled you towards her.

 “What’s going on?” You yelled above the commotion, Loki stood closely beside you and listened to the conversation.

 “They want to end the world, take over and build their new empire.” Donna explained with tears in her eyes, “we’re too late, there’s nothing we can do.” 

 Your lips fell slack and you looked back towards the swirling flaming red mist with terror, realising it was a portal, to unleash evil upon the world.

 You looked up at Loki, his long black hair waved around his face from the gusts caused by the portal, he was staring at it with a thoughtful expression before his eyes locked with yours and he saw the fear in them. 

 With a determined look, Loki walked towards the edge of the stage, you noticed the luminous emerald mist already starting to form in his palms before he lifted them towards the centre of the theatre. His right foot came backwards, to support his weight, as his magic pushed against him but he leaned his upper body into it.

 With one hand he focused his magic on the centre of the theatre, before he moved the other to direct a burst of magic towards the royal box, your eyes followed the green mist and widened when you saw three witches who you hadn’t noticed before. With his magic focusing on the witches who were the source of the power, the portal began to deteriorate and was easily engulfed by Loki’s magic. 

 The God raised both his arms into the air, and a green surge of light shot into the night sky, taking the portal with it, the force caused the doors behind the stage to fly open and hundreds of loose pages flew into the air and with a resounding boom everything vanished, the only evidence left behind was a faint green mist which slowly began to dissipate. Even the three witches who had been sat in the royal box were gone, the only thing left behind was a crystal ball which sat on the edge of the balcony.

 The remaining members of the audience, who hadn’t managed to escape, began to slowly clap until they erupted into enthusiastic cheers and applause. 

 From the side of the stage, you watched Loki glance around at the audience, as he momentarily appeared to be caught off guard but he quickly regained his composure and lowered himself into an elegant bow with both his arms spread wide and the audience began applauding him even louder.

 Shakespeare appeared by your side and took your hand in his, your other hand was already holding Donna’s and he guided you both to the edge of the stage, beside Loki and the three of you bowed in unison, however the entire time your eyes were locked on Loki as he stared at your hand which was held in the poets, and that dangerous shadow cast over his eyes again as his jaw clenched.

 ***

 Loki had avoided you for the rest of the night. When you all returned to the inn, due to the fact most of the guests had fled the town in fright when the portal opened, there were suddenly a lot more rooms going spare. Loki had vanished to one of the rooms without a word, despite the fact everyone was trying to bestow him with gratitude and praise for literally saving the world, he ignored it all.

 You had stayed in the common room, with Donna, the Doctor and Shakespeare as they explained everything that had happened. The witches in the royal box had possessed Shakespeare last night as he was writing the end of Love’s Labours Won and wrote a spell into the script, the innkeeper must have witnessed this and died from the fright. They had killed the man who had tried to cancel the play as they needed it to be performed and for the actor to read the spell out loud on stage to open the portal, which would’ve allowed millions of their kind to travel through and invade Earth, the Doctor had called them the Carrionites. 

 The entire time you couldn’t keep Loki off your mind, the look on his face when he saw your hand in Shakespeare’s, kept appearing behind your eyes, making your heart sink deeper each time. As soon as Donna and the Doctor had finished explaining everything to you, you excused yourself and headed upstairs to the rooms and stopped in front of the door which you had seen Loki disappear behind.

 “Loki?” You softly knocked on the door, but there came no response. You tried the handle, but it was firmly locked.

 “Can we talk?” You tried again, and you waited, but still nothing.

 You rested your forehead against the door in defeat and sighed. 

 “Goodnight, Loki.” You whispered before you retreated to your room.

 ***

 The next morning the Doctor had decided to return to the theatre to see if he could help Shakespeare salvage any parts of Love’s Labours Won, but it seemed as though all traces of it vanished when Loki destroyed the portal, finally solving your mystery of how it disappeared. 

 Loki still hadn’t emerged from his room, even when you had knocked on his door to inform him that you were all heading to the theatre and then from there you would be returning to the TARDIS. 

 You were beginning to feel incredibly worried about him while you sat on a wooden box on the stage of the Globe Theatre as your concerns raced through your mind. 

 “What troubles you?” You startled, since you had been too distracted by your worries to even notice that Shakespeare had taken a seat beside you on the box.

 You contemplated whether or not you should actually tell the poet what was troubling you or if you should dismiss him, you realised that you couldn’t really voice your worries to Donna or the Doctor since neither of them knew about what happened between you and Loki yet. At least with Shakespeare he would be out of your life for good within the hour, so you decided you could share it with him.

 “It’s Loki,” you sighed sadly, “he has been avoiding me.”

 You suddenly felt the weight of his hand on your lower back, as he pulled you closer and you stiffened.

 “If Loki won’t give you his attention. Why not entertain a man who will?” Shakespeare proposed, before he began leaning his face towards yours. 

 Your eyes widened and you immediately brought your hands to his chest to push him away.

 “It seems I arrived at the wrong time.” As soon as you heard Loki’s familiar deep voice, your heart plummeted in your chest. 

 “Loki,” you looked over your shoulder at him, guilt already filling your eyes, despite the fact you hadn’t actually done anything wrong. You weren’t going to kiss Shakespeare, you had been milliseconds away from pushing him off the box.  

 You rose to your feet and tried to walk towards Loki but he took a step backwards to maintain the distance and you got the hint.

 “Good props store, back there!” The Doctor caught your attention, you turned and saw him and Donna returning to the stage, dressed in various different props and costume pieces.

 “Not sure about this, though.” He held up what appeared to be a large animals skull in his left hand, you couldn’t depict what it was, but it looked ghastly. “Reminds me of a Sycorax.” 

 “Sycorax.” Shakespeare repeated. “Nice word. I’ll have that one off you as well.”

 “I should be on 10%.” The Doctor muttered. 

 “Mobius.” You heard Loki gasp from behind you, and your attention turned to his line of sight, to find a fair haired man, with a moustache and wearing a plain brown suit enter the theatre by one of the stalls entrances, followed by a group of armed officers. You instantly recognised him as the man Loki had been hiding from in Pompeii.

 “It’s nice to finally see you again, Loki.” The man spoke, sounding like an old friend, but there was definitely something far more sinister hiding in his tone. 

 By now the exchange had captured everyone’s attention, as you all glanced between Loki and the new stranger Loki had addressed as Mobius. 

 “How did you find me?” Loki asked, as he stepped towards the edge of the stage. 

 “It wasn’t too hard, we’ve been tracking seismic activities of your magic. You lead us right to you.” Mobius smiled, it seemed that composed smile never left his face. From how uneasy Loki appeared, you decided you disliked him already.

 “I’d just like to know, who would be idiotic enough to give you, of all people, free rein through all of time and space.” Mobius asked Loki, who had parted his lips to answer but before he could, the Doctor stepped up to the edge of the stage beside him.

 “That would be me.” The Doctor announced, still dressed in all the props he had found back stage, including a pleated collar and an oversized beret while he still held the disturbing animal skull, he looked quite the spectacle.

 Mobius was speechless for a moment, as his eyes dragged up and down the Doctor’s tall form.

 “He’s a time lord.” Loki proudly lifted his head, as one might just before they lay down their cards to reveal a winning hand.

 Mobius smile finally dropped, and you couldn’t help the smirk that lifted at the corner of your lips, proud to see Loki have an advantage.

 “Impossible. They’re all gone.” Mobius tried to hide any traces of confusion from his face and tone and instead feigned confidence in his statement.

 “All except me.” The Doctor explained, and you practically saw the realisation hit Mobius at full force.

 “You’re...” The words died on Mobius’ tongue, before his eyes filled with horror.

 “I’m beginning to get the feeling that they don’t honour me as much as they do the other time lords.” The Doctor whispered to Loki, who was now frowning.

 Mobius commanded something you couldn’t hear to the armed officers around him and they raised their weapons.

 “I think that is our cue to run.” The Doctor decided as he slowly began backing away, he threw the animals skull at Shakespeare, who quickly caught it, then took Donna’s hand in his own as he rushed past her and lead her out the stage door with you and Loki following closely behind him.

 You followed the trail of the Doctors long brown trench coat, through the busy streets, glad that he seemed to memorise the way to the TARDIS because you had no idea, while you had flashbacks of running for your life through Pompeii, except this time you were running from the exact same thing Loki had been. 

  Once the familiar blue box caught your eye, your legs began carrying you even quicker as you made your final sprint towards it. The Doctor was already at the door, holding it open, you made it in first and then Loki closely after you.

 The Doctor wasted no time and immediately rushed to the controls to get the TARDIS out of there as soon as possible, while you leant over the rail, as you tried to catch your breath. You felt the sharp pain of a stitch in your side and brought the tips of your fingers up to your abdomen and dug them into your skin where you felt the pain, in an attempt to ease it.

 Just as the familiar tremors and the sound of the engine wheezing filled the control room, an outside force caused the ship to jerk harshly and sent you crashing to the floor.

 “Shit.” You cursed under your breath, as pain shot through your hip from the impact of hitting the hard floor.

 Glancing around it seemed everyone else had managed to maintain their balance, the Doctor was still frantically working at the controls, Donna was glancing at you with concern from the other side of the control room and Loki looked lost in thought while he held on tight to the rail.

 Eventually the tremors subsided and the TARDIS settled into a tranquil state and the Doctor collapsed into the seats with his feet rested up against the ships console, looking exhausted as he finally pulled the pleated collar from off his neck with a heavy sigh.

 “Well… now we’re all on the run from the Time Variance Authority.” The time lord concluded. 

[footballfanfictions]

The thrill of the chase - Chapter Three

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Authors Note: Apologies again for how long this has taken to write, life has been absolutely manic the last couple of weeks. As always, I hope you enjoy this and feedback is gratefully received.

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 He’s pinning me down against the bed, leaning over me. His hands are everywhere, touching and caressing me wherever he can reach and his mouth is on my neck, sucking a patch of skin to mark me.

My hands are in his hair and I’m tugging at it to get him to look at me, so that I can connect our mouths again, but when I pull his face to mine, it isn’t Ben anymore. It’s Rory.

I wake up from the fantasy in a cold sweat, my bed sheet stuck to my slick back and my pyjama top crumpled. I put my head into my hands and sob quietly. I’m not crying because I’ve had some sex dream about a footballer that snogged me. I’m crying because once again, I*’m thinking about my ex boyfriend and it’s becoming obsessive.

I sit up in bed and find myself checking his social media. His facebook has him check in to some fancy hotel in the Cotswolds with his girlfriend. They had met not long after we broke up. In fact, the gap between us breaking up and them supposedly meeting was so slim that it made me wonder if he had been talking to her before we called it quits. I had no proof of that of course, but that didn’t make me feel any better about any of it. I imagined the two of them sharing a bed together in their hotel room, enjoying the comfort of sleeping next to someone. It had been so long that I barely remembered what that felt like. 

I almost texted Bri, she would have been happy to talk even if I woke her, but I wasn’t quite ready to share what I had been thinking about recently. It would be hypocritical of Bri to judge me for thinking about Rory when all she went on about at the moment was making her ex jealous. That made me think of Billy and how much he liked her. I had this awful feeling that if he did ask Bri out that she would use it as an opportunity and not give him a fair chance. Billy did not deserve to be used like that. 

I ran my fingers through my damp hair and collected it into a ponytail, tying it with the band that I had kept around my wrist since letting my hair down before bed. I had this weird habit that whenever I was feeling stressed, needed to really concentrate on something or make a decision, I would always tie my hair up. Rory had always thought it was nuts. I had noticed from their instagram pictures that his girlfriend never really wore her hair up. I always called her that, his girlfriend because giving her a name would make her feel real, and maybe there was a part of me that didn’t want her to be real and still clung onto the idea that we were just on a break, exploring our careers and travelling only to come back together again, get married and have three kids and a dog. 

My parents had tried really hard to hide their devastation when I told them about the break up, telling me that there were plenty more fish in the sea and that the timing just wasn’t right for me to meet someone. They had then of course both reminisced about their university partners which had led to a row when my dad spoke about his university girlfriend Mandy a little bit too fondly. 

I stared down at my phone, deciding that I needed a distraction, and the best distraction was work. I logged out of my own instagram account and clicked on the first saved profile in my list. It was the player that I had been posting for the other day before Billy had his accident. I checked his recent posts and likes and nothing seemed to be out of place, except perhaps for the fact that it was around 3am and he was getting regular messages, the name Sam appearing on my screen once again.  By this point in my maddened, ex-stalking state I will admit that I was curious. I clicked the icon that took me to his inbox and began to read. 

They were conversing about his impending separation from his wife and about how they couldn’t wait to be together. I felt like throwing up in my mouth that one of the players that I worked with would behave like that, although I hadn’t really met this player in particular. His name was Jorginho and he was known as somewhat of a joker.  I kept out of his way for that very reason, not being a big fan of practical jokes and pranks.

I was about to close his inbox when another message came in.

What do we do about Ben?

I blinked and re-read the message several times. Ben? 

What on earth could Ben have to do with Jorginho cheating on his wife and leaving her for this woman, I wondered.

I clicked on her profile then and scrolled back through her pictures. She was a stunning brunette and her posts were mainly bikini pictures with the odd paid promotion thrown in here and there. I scrolled until a picture stopped me dead in my tracks. It was a picture of her with Ben, both smiling into the camera, their arms around each other and a caption that read ‘my everything’.

There were a few more pictures of them together and it was very evident that she had once been Ben’s girlfriend. At first I felt a bit numb, then I felt a pang of jealousy, and then I felt angry that she was conducting an affair with one of his team mates right under his nose and probably planning on lying to him about it.

I didn’t know what to do with this information.

He never has to know. I’m spending one more season here then my contract expires and we can go anywhere. 

I read his response, that confirmed what I feared. They were going to sneak around and hide this from Ben, probably until the divorce was finalised and then they would disappear off to another country and Ben would be left to read about it in the press. Unless i did something about it. 

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

I had a meeting with Marina this morning. She commented that I seemed really distracted and I commented that I needed content other than Mason Mount to post onto social media. Marina had laughed and said that he was increasing our social media engagement and that we had new fans and shirt sales as a result of his appeal. I muttered something rude under my breath about what I thought about his appeal.

Marina and I had a really good working relationship and could banter with each other whilst still acting professionally and having a great deal of respect.

We had decided that I could capture my own content for our social media whenever I liked and would be provided with equipment such as a camera to enable me to. I had agreed to this to get me out of just posting Mason, but it did mean extra work for me, doubling up on the job of the club photographer and that I would need to spend more time outside on the pitches with the players, something I wasn’t sure I particularly fancied doing.

I hadn’t spoken to Ben since he kissed me, and now I felt even worse about it because I had been thinking about Rory, and had discovered that his ex and his team mate were sleeping together.

It was only the first of September, but I had started thinking about content for Halloween and maybe even thanks giving as we now had an American player at the club. 

I was just messing around with different shades of orange in photoshop when there was a knock on my office door. 

I got up from my desk slowly, silently praying that it wouldn’t be Ben because I couldn’t face him without blurting out the secret. 

Instead I had the displeasure of opening the door to find Mason Mount stood there.

“What do you want?” I sighed. 

“God you are sunshine and rainbows this morning. You look like you haven’t slept.” he said grinning. He was trying to make me laugh by jokingly insulting me and then cupped my face with his hands and started to stroke beneath my eyes with his thumbs. I was about to ask him what the bloody hell he was doing when he said “just smoothing out the wrinkles”. 

I shook him off and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Sorry.” he mumbled. 

I let him in then rather than the two of us just standing in the door way. He walked over to my desk and perched on the end exactly like Ben had done before he had kissed me. Except surely Mason wasn’t going to do that.

“What can I help you with?” I asked, trying my best to be polite to him. He had tried after all to make me laugh. It wasn’t his fault that I was so worried about everyone and everything else going on around here.

“I have a bit of a problem. My girlfriend is in this girl band and they are doing a music video next week that she wants me to be in so that they can get more views. The thing is, I’m not sure it really fits with my brand.” he explained, looking down at his shoes and the carpet, his eyes darting back up to me every few seconds while I considered a response. 

“Well footballers have been in music videos before without it affecting any of their sponsorship or brand deals.” I responded, thinking about the music video Fernando Torres had been in for a spanish band years ago. 

“Maybe it’s not my image i’m necessarily worried about. I feel a bit used but don’t know how to tell her.” as he spoke he looked vulnerable for the first time and the cheekiness was all gone. 

“So if I’m getting this right, they’re a band kind of breaking through and you being in the video would get them a lot of views and might get them really famous. Don’t you want your girlfriend to be successful?” as I asked him, he looked thoughtful, and then sad.

“I don’t really want to be with someone that now only wants me because I’m famous, and wants to leech fame from me.” he shrugged. 

I remembered the rant I had at him about how privileged he was for being rich and famous at such a young age, but I now started to consider that it must come with some drawbacks like not knowing if the people closest to you actually like you for who you are or if they want to use you for fame and fortune. 

“Well if you like, if they ask us for permission I will say no and that i need you for one of our campaigns whenever it is scheduled for and that it’s non negotiable because the club pays your wages.” He grinned and hopped off the edge of the desk. 

He made to step towards me but I held out my hand to stop him.

“No need to thank me.” 

He nodded and proceeded to head towards my office door. I stopped him just before he grabbed the handle by saying “Can I give you some advice? I don’ think that you should be with someone like that either.”

Without turning back to me, he sighed and responded “I don’t think that you should be with someone like Ben Chilwell”.

Before I could say anything else in response he opened the door and left

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By lunchtime my brain was completely scrambled. I had busied myself with my idea for a thanksgiving tribute to Christian Pulisic the American player and planned special catering for the day to include a full turkey dinner in the canteen for him. That would of course give me the perfect opportunity for a post about how we are so thankful for him and want to make him feel at home. Marina would love it. 

I thought about hiding in my office until everyone returned to their jobs or their training and then going to the canteen, but I knew if I did that there would surely be no food left.

I was just loading my tray up with small items from the tapas menu when someone tapped me on the shoulder. Looking over it, I saw that it was Billy. His smile was 50-watt and could light up any room.

“Hey Billy, are you okay?” I asked him.

“Oh yes.” he nodded. “I’ve got a plan to ask ye friend out. Wanted to run it by you if you’re free?” 

I looked around and most of the tables were free so I agreed and said we could sit together and talk about it over lunch and that maybe Bri would join us if there wasn’t some kit emergency keeping her away. He smiled at that.

We sat down at a table by the window, a nice amount of sunshine came through it which warmed my back and the back of my neck nicely.

Billy went off immediately into explaining his plan to ask Bri out. He was going to have one of the lads accidentally rip his training shirt during the morning session so that he would have an excuse to go and see her.

“Hang on - tell me what day you’re planning this and I can distract her dad for a bit.” I interjected.

“Already got that covered sweetheart. He’s on a conference all of next week!” he grinned.

I looked puzzled and he laughed at the expression I was pulling. What kind of conference would a kit man need to go to? Were they brining out a new range or under armor or something like that?

“I know it sounds mad.” 

“It doesn’t just sound mad, it sounds like a good opportunity, go on.”I encouraged him.

He was going to fill one of the old unused offices with flowers and somehow convince Bri that she needed to follow him there so that he could ask her. It was so sweet and completely something that Bri would go for so I told him that his plan sounded brilliant and that I would help him in any way possible.

“I’m going to get her thinking about you in preparation you know.” I said, showing Billy a freshly edited picture of him on my phone screen that I was planning on posting that afternoon when I got back to my desk. “This beauty is going on all our social media pages. By the way, why did you never tell me that you used to model?”

He blushed bright scarlet when I brought up his modelling career and then we both descended into fits of laughter over it.

“You’re a really good friend, you know” he smiled. “If I can call you that.”

“Of course I’m your friend Billy.” I agreed.

“Well seeing as we are now best pals, do ye want to tell me what’s on your mind?” he asked.

I gulped, my mouth and throat suddenly feeling dry and uncomfortable. I couldn’t tell him what I had learnt about Jorginho, but maybe I could at least be honest about Rory.

“I had a really bad break up about a year ago and it’s still bothering me. Just you know, seeing other people happy and wondering what could have been.” I shrugged, trying to seem not fussed. I was bothered though and talking about it made the pain in my chest when I thought about him that little bit worse. I felt tears threatening to form.

Billy put his hand over mine and squeezed it.

“If you’re still following him or still friends on facebook, you need to delete him so that you can move on. Do you want me to do it for you?” he offered, holding his hand out to me for my phone.

Billy was right, I needed to let go of the part of me that still missed Rory, the part that felt jealous every time I saw what he was up to, and I could never get over that while it was accessible to me. 

I gave Billy my phone and told him Rory’s social media names even though he was the top person in all of my search history.

“Oh Katie, I’m sorry. It can’t have been nice to see him announce his engagement on here.” he said sympathetically.

It took a second for my brain and heart to catch up with each other and I felt sick to my stomach as I ask him to repeat himself.

I hadn’t heard him wrong and he showed me the post. I must have missed it by being so preoccupied with Ben’s situation. He had taken her to that fancy hotel in the Cotswolds to propose to her. Their grinning faces staring back at me from the picture didn’t feel like people I knew anymore.

“That’s that then. The end of that chapter of my life, officially.” I scraped my hair back and tied it up quickly.

“He’s gone from your virtual life too now.” Billy said, passing the phone back to me. 

“Thank you.” I said quietly. 

It’s hard to describe how you feel the second your hope for something shatters. The reality was that Rory was never going to realise that he had made a mistake and come back to me, because the reality was that we weren’t the same people we had been when we had first met at university and we had genuinely drifted apart. I could point the finger and blame him for possibly cheating, sure, but what good would that do me? Truth is we weren’t meant to be together and he hadn’t made a mistake. He had done the right thing to lead him to the person that he was supposed to be with. I just wished that I didn’t feel this way. I was sure that if I had moved on and met someone else my reaction would have been different. I might even have congratulated him. 

That evening I went home and cracked open a bottle of wine, and once I reached the bottom of it I cried myself to sleep.

[official-weasley]

The Extraordinary Dragon (Part 4/6)

A fluffy story about Charlie training a dragon with a sad and mysterious past.

Warnings: A dragonologist being hurt by a dragon Word Count: 2,534

“Asterin, we have been at it for a week, how about we make some progress today?”

I was exhausted, standing alert, waiting to see if the dragon will calm down. Nothing, in particular, happened that would startle Asterin but she decided to roar in my face 3 times in the last 10 minutes and she even snapped at me. If I wasn’t fast enough she could’ve bitten my head off.

It’s been a week since Asterin arrived here and I am sad to say that I haven’t made any progress with her. I am disappointed – disappointed in myself. Everybody was counting on me to make her feel safe and comfortable here. Three reserves were waiting to see any progress and I didn’t do anything.

I couldn’t even get her to feel so relaxed to not dig her claws in the ground beneath her. She still roars at me – less at me than anyone else but she roars nonetheless. She scratches anyone who dares to come close to her and the second she sees me in protective gear her nostrils start smoking.

The only thing that has changed since the day of her arrival is that she eats chicken blood and brandy and thus we can see progress in her growth.

My boss understands and is patient with me. He constantly reminds me that I have all the time in the world as long as she doesn’t hurt me. I know I have to take it slow and give her time but I can’t shake the feeling it would be easier if I knew what exactly happened to her.

I wish I could find a way for her to trust me, to feel safe at least, and to start eating anything else than liquids. She is growing but not at the rate she is supposed to, to reach the correct size for her age.

Every day when I come home from work I make myself some dinner and take out blank pieces of paper and start contemplating ideas what else I could try.

I tried talking to her, singing to her. I imitated roaring and rolled on the ground. I left her completely alone for a whole day, observing her from a nearby hill but she didn’t move, being a curveball for the entire day.

I brought her different types of food – venison, chicken, boar, even a wolf. I gave her bread, all kinds of fruit and vegetables but she merely sniffed anything.

I even pretended that I was a dragon – trust me it was the most awkward thing I have ever done.

When I told Matthew of the idea he needed every muscle in his body not to start laughing. He helped me make the costume I put over my protective gear. I carefully walked to her habitat and I piqued her interest the second she saw me. Matthew got a recording of roars from the researchers and when I stopped in front of her, I turned it on so that it appeared as if I was making the sounds. Then I took out my wand and cast a few fire spells so that she could see I can breathe fire.

To my surprise, she didn’t get territorial but laid on the ground observing my every move. Matt reckoned she knew it wasn’t a real dragon. I had a feeling she was playful but it didn’t make any sense. Dragons aren’t playful around other dragons at this age – they become defensive and aggressive. I could feel she was still tense and she didn’t move – not even her tail – but she looked intrigued which was the first time after I brought her the blood and brandy the first night in the forest.

I was running out of ideas. I asked other dragonologists that have more experience with dragons, Hebridean Blacks in particular, but none of them told me anything new. They indeed are the hardest to tame but none are this afraid. Being one of the mightiest dragons, Blacks usually have little reason to be scared of anything.

I understand that she had a bad experience when she was a baby dragon and who knows how long she was alone before the MacFusty family found her. None of us knows what happened to her or who did this to her – we only have her scars to tell us the story with a lot of gaps in it.

I tried putting myself in her shoes – to imagine how scared she was all alone, what she had to endure, and how I would act if I was brought to a place like the Sanctuary. I realized that a week isn’t even close to start being comfortable after being transported across the continent.

Since Hebridean Blacks are very rarely found outside Scotland and the MacFusty clan keeps track of dragons on Hebrides Islands it’s clear that someone who doesn’t have the authority to take care of a dragon brought her there.

I was still standing in front of her waiting for anything to change but it didn’t. I know I wasn’t timed on when I make some progress with her but in a week’s time she has to go through her health check-up and since I am the only one she doesn’t seem to want to kill when she gets approached, I can’t see that happening.

“We are supposed to go see the healers so they can see if you have any broken bones and check your teeth and give you an assessment and I can’t let them do that because you get all murderous with your bites and fire.” I playfully rolled my eyes at her getting nothing but a tail movement in return.

“Do you want to eat me? Or scratch me?” I raised my eyebrows. “It would be better than just standing still,” I mumbled to myself.

Asterin didn’t react to anything I said.

“I have to be here because this is my job and you have to be here because this is your home now so how about I take a seat.”

I turned around and looked at the nearby rocks. I took out my wand and levitated one closer to me so I could sit down.

Before I could finish the spell I felt a sharp pain in the middle of my back. I gasped for air before letting out a screech. I turned around as fast as I could and saw Asterin standing right in front of me. She roared with her head toward the sky, and then looked down at me with smoking nostrils.

“Asterin, please, calm down.” I took a deep breath as the pain in my back overwhelmed my entire body. “I…I didn’t mean to hurt you…with that rock.”

I could hardly stand but I bowed my head anyway and started walking backward.

“It’s okay…I…I mean you no harm.” I blinked hard a few times, starting to see black spots.

The dragon roared again, louder this time, and lifted her paw to stomp on me.

“Protego!” I shouted.

I didn’t want to use a defensive spell on her that could hurt her. The last thing I needed was to frighten her some more.

“Asterin, please, you hurt me. Let me walk away.” I took a few more steps backward but with each one, she took another step forward.

I groaned from pain, trying to keep it together. I knew that I’m a dead man if I faint in front of her. It’s true that she was on a liquid diet but I don’t think she would mind eating a human.

“Ventus!” I cast another spell. I needed to put some distance between us without hurting her so the Wind spell seemed like the best option.

“Charles, what is going on?”

I have never been so happy to hear my boss’ voice.

“She…she attacked me when I turned my back to her.” My voice barely audible.

“I told you it was foolish not to wear any protective gear!” He barked. I could hear the panic in his voice.

I looked up and saw him take out his wand.

“No, please don’t do anything to her.”

“Are you mad, Charles? She almost killed you!”

“I must’ve done…something to trigger her. I turned my back to…her before and she has never done this.”

“We can talk about this later. I have to get you to the infirmary!” Matthew kneeled next to me and helped me get up.

I clenched my teeth from the pain that lifting my body caused me but I knew I have to endure it.

“Blimey, Charles, the cut looks really bad,” Matthew said concerned.

“I’ll be fine.” I swung my hand, wanting him to stop worrying about me.

“This has gone too far. You have to start wearing your gear when you’re with her or I am assigning her to someone else.” Matthew frowned as we started walking away from the dragon.

I could hear her roar – cry almost – as we walked away and out of her sight. I couldn’t believe that the Wind spell did the trick and made her stay put. I was sure she was going to come after me again, more determined, and try to finish me off.

The second we saw the infirmary, Matt started to shout for any of the healers to hear him. Two of them came out, saw in what state I was, and helped Matt move me inside.

“What happened?” I heard one ask.

“The new Hebridean Black clawed him on the back,” Matthew answered.

“It’s pretty deep, Matt,” the other said as they laid me on the hospital bed and cut my shirt off. “Why wasn’t he wearing any protective equipment?”

“Don’t ask.” Matt sighed. “Is he going to be okay?”

That was the last thing I heard before my body finally gave in to the pain that was only getting stronger as the healers looked at my wound. I closed my eyes and all noise around me disappeared.

When I woke up, I saw Matthew sitting in front of me. The second he saw my eyes flutter he stood up and leaned over me.

“Charles, how are you feeling?” He couldn’t contain the concern in his voice.

“I’ve been better.” I tried chuckling but my back was still in too much pain. “How long have I been out?”

“3 days. The healers barely saved you. The cut was very deep. In the middle, the claw got to one of your vertebrae. It was so bad they couldn’t use magic on you, they needed to use stitches. You’re lucky to be alive!”

“Go ahead, scold me.” I made the effort to fully open my eyes so I could see the expression on his face.

“You are going to need months to fully heal and the healers said that even though they were able to mend your wound and stitch you up, the injury will leave one nasty scar. Let that be a reminder to you that dragons aren’t Crups, Charles.” He furrowed his brows at me.

“I am sorry. I might’ve taken it too far but I am getting desperate, Matt. Nothing I do works. Every idea I come up with, flops. I don’t know what to do to help her and I can’t fail this. I can’t.” I wanted to lift my arms to bury my face in my hands but I couldn’t move them that much.

“I know you can’t, Charles. Why do you think I was so strict with you not letting you work with the higher-class dragons?”

“Because I don’t have enough experience?” I guessed.

“No. I can’t even believe you fell for that. You’re one of the most talented dragonologists here. You’re more qualified to work with the most vicious dragons in this Sanctuary than some of my men that have 20+ years experience behind them.” Matthew pursed his lips. I could see it in his eyes that he never wanted to tell me this but I guess me almost dying changed his mind.

“Then why not let me?” I wanted to know.

“Because even though your burning love for dragons comes in handy in many ways, when you are dealing with a challenge you are ready to risk everything, even your life, to get it done.” He sat back down, shaking his head.

“Okay, I admit that I went a bit overboard letting my guard down with Asterin so quickly but I have never seen such a stubborn and frightened dragon.” A look of concern creased my face.

“Charles, we can’t take the right approach if we don’t know what exactly happened to the dragon.” Matthew sighed.

“How long can’t I work?”

“I told you, at least a few months. First, we have to see if your stitches are going to be okay – we can’t risk you getting an infection. Then you have to get the stitches taken out and then maybe I can let you back to work with Hel, Lasair, and Rocker.” Matthew said with his eyes narrowed, thinking of the possibilities.

“How about I do something else when they release me from the infirmary?” I was biting my lip nervously. I wanted to ask him about this for days but I wasn’t sure if he would be up for it. Now that I am laying in front of him, barely able to move, he might just think it’s the only way.

“I’m listening.” He lifted his left eyebrow, his eyes locked with mine.

“As you said we can’t take the right approach because we don’t know what happened to her. How about I go and pay a visit to the MacFusty clan, take a look around, and ask them some questions. Maybe I can learn something that could help me with Asterin.”

“They will give you the same story they told me, Charlie. There is nothing else to find out.” Matt’s lips curved down.

“Please, just let me try. I have to try and it is less dangerous than working with her.” I grinned at him as much as I could.

“You won’t take no for an answer, will you?” He shook his head playfully. “No, I will not.”

“Fine!” He sighed. “But only when your stitches are out and the healers deem you ready for such a long journey.” “You’ve got yourself a deal, boss!”

I couldn’t believe he will allow me to do this. I trust the MacFusty family but what if they missed something? What if there is something crucial for me to know to properly approach the dragon? I know that there is a low chance of succeeding. The family is known for being huge dragon lovers and enthusiasts and I doubt they would just give up on her without trying everything that comes to mind first.

I know they were thorough with their investigation and tried their best so there is a very small chance that I will find something they couldn’t. But I have to go. I have to give it a try. I can’t give up on her. This plan simply has to work. I am determined to find something and succeed with her if it’s the last thing I ever do.

[unjourjeseraideretourpresdetoi]

9/10 Chapter 1 - Malt

I started writing a bit of a Harry/Kim fanfic??? Because why the hell not. Anyway, here’s the first part of it. I’m kind of just making it up as I go with a few specific ideas scattered in my head. Spoilers for various plot points. Here’s a sample before the cut. Feel free to send any suggestions or critique, since it’s been ages since I have done much writing. Still working on getting a feel for Harry’s skill voices.

YOU — After a little while, your voice finally returns. “Why are you so nice to me?” KIM KITSURAGI — He takes a long pause and leans back in his chair. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just stubborn too.” PERCEPTION — You turn to look at him as you finally untangle yourself from your chrysalis of arms, and he looks different somehow. You don’t know if it’s your eyes being sore as hell, or the dull ambiance of the hazy bar lights. Somehow, he looks so light. His bomber jacket is slightly pulled up by his folded arms behind his head, seeming to break the bulky illusion it usually projects over his slim torso. Like suddenly seeing a gap in a suit of armor. SUGGESTION — You should tickle him. ESPRIT DE CORPS — He will kill you in mere seconds if you do that.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Hello again, Harry boy. The midnight train to Fuck-All-Borough is boarding once again, and you’ve pre-paid your seat. YOU — Okay. ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Yes, that’s right. Let’s drive right into the sweet, succulent sopor of oblivion. Let no feelings come to pass, no sensations, just the pure bliss of the radiating void. YOU — But aren’t you here? ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — That’s just it, Harry. I’m nothing. I am the pale of the mind, I am the deafening silence, I am the black canvas that stretches taut when you close your eyes. I am the swaddle that cradles the mind and the ocean you will drown in. I am born of you and someday, you will die in me. LIMBIC SYSTEM —  But not yet—something still stirs in this weighted sack. Something heavy, and sore, and full of noise that steadily rises into a crescendo.

PERCEPTION — And then you open your eyes. And it fucking hurts. PAIN THRESHOLD — Dear god, it’s like a jackhammer on a pogo stick on another jackhammer. PERCEPTION — You realize there’s a smell you haven’t smelled in a few weeks now that’s uncomfortably emanating from your form. Al Gul. COMPOSURE — Oh. You finally did it again. You fucked up.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — So we got a little smashed. Who cares. You know what’s a great way to stop feeling sorry about it? Getting smashed again. AUTHORITY — No. YOU — Why am I always fucking things up? HALF LIGHT — Because life is terrifying. LOGIC — He’s right about that one.

YOU — What was I doing last night? ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Like I said, getting smashed. CONCEPTUALIZATION — Painting the world with a palette of sugary booze and sad, old rock and roll for sad, old rockstars.

YOU — Who did I hurt this time? DRAMA — Mostly, just yourself. VOLITION — A small miracle, if so. You’re used to self-immolation. YOU — But why? Why now? We were doing better. ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Speak for yourself. LOGIC — You do know that you can’t just ride out two decades of practiced chemical drowning on a workhorse of piety and guilt, right?

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — This ceaseless dependency on cocktails of narcotics and spirits has weakened you shamefully. PERCEPTION — You look around your dimly lit bedroom, eyes half-closed anyway to quiet the searing pain in your cerebral cortex, slowly putting the pieces back together as the rest of your body wakes up.

YOU — I was having a shitty day. I was stuck on a case and my mind just kept drifting into half-remembered past mistakes. After work, I decided to do it. I called her again, like an idiot. I thought to myself, I can do this, I can let her go, and I’ll tell her I’m finally over it (almost). INLAND EMPIRE — But that is not how it went. She had prepared for the next time you would call. The last time was terrifying enough, torn awake at 3 in the morning, listening to your desperate lies, digging through past trauma. 

YOU — “Hey, uh, Dora. It’s Harry. I’m sorry—“ PERCEPTION — A sharp sigh breaks your concentration. DORA — “Let me stop you there, Harry. Because I’m tired of this. You’ve been doing this six years now but it feels at least twice as long. So since you can’t put an end to it, I am. Don’t call again. You won’t be reaching me at this number anymore.” PERCEPTION — Before you can react, there’s silence. And a dial tone. YOU — Fuck. Fuck shit fuck.

COMPOSURE — You stumble through dialing the number again, fingers slipping the first time from nerves and connecting the second, with no answer. You try again. And again. And then you stop trying. It takes everything in you not to smash the phone where it sits. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — You need to smash something. If we can’t smash the phone, we HAVE to smash something. REACTION SPEED — Your feet are already taking you away from the pay phone, one thought ahead of the rest of you. You barely round the corner into the alley before you plant your fist full force into the nearest brick wall. PAIN THRESHOLD — Your hand spirals into a fractal of pain, blood dripping down your busted knuckles, slowly running down the dirtied wall. You can feel the cracking of your knuckles, like a brittle lacework of glass strapped down only by the leather of your worn-out hands. HALF-LIGHT — Get out of here. ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Now that you’re done smashing your fist, it’s time to get the rest of you smashed. YOU — “Fuck it. I’m getting a drink.”

CONCEPTUALIZATION — From there, it was a blaze of sweet, hot fire down your throat and back up again, run ragged from shitty karaoke and mild alcohol poisoning. But the film reel is running thin, and you’re struggling to get anything else from your memory bank.

YOU — How did I get back? I don’t remember walking home. ESPRIT DE CORPS — You asked for help.

HAND-EYE COORDINATION — You pat at your pockets, searching for the right one, not quite remembering what you’re doing but knowing the answer you thought of for a fraction of a second is somewhere in there. After a moment, you find it, carefully tucked away but nevertheless damp with sweat from your slacks.

“If you need to talk— 005-93-88-651 Lt. Kitsuragi”

INTERFACING — Your hands are a bit shaky, but you dial out the number on the slip of paper in your hands. PERCEPTION — It rings once. Twice. A third time. And then you hear the receiver click. KIM KITSURAGI — “Hello?”

SHIVERS — In a small apartment in Central Jamrock, not too far from Precinct 41, and not too far from the Jamrock Public Library, Lieutenant Kitsuragi sits on his bed, some light reading in hand, winding down for the night. His new apartment is still filled with cardboard boxes here and there, in no particular hurry to be unpacked. The lights of the city pierce through like little pinpricks in the glare of his bedside window, still insistent on their presence even in the quiet of a cool spring night.

YOU — “Hi, Kim, I uh…” Your voice shakes and you lose your words for a moment, because some part of you really didn’t expect him to pick up. KIM KITSURAGI — “Detective? It’s after midnight.” DRAMA — It’s already that late? You must’ve woken him up. A bad start. YOU — “Uhh… sorry, I uh. Wasn’t looking at the clock. We can just talk tomorrow—“ KIM KITSURAGI — “You’re drunk.” COMPOSURE — Fuck. There’s nothing coming out of your mouth anymore. Another bad phone call. It takes everything in you not to cry. You do anyway.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Where are you?” YOU — You manage to croak out enough to say “Sunshine’s Hideaway. Bar on 12th street.” KIM KITSURAGI — He pauses a moment, thinking. “...I’ll be there in a few minutes.” ESPRIT DE CORPS — He’s thinking about the best route there. LOGIC — He doesn’t have his motor carriage right now. He’s going to have to walk it, and it’s cold out. YOU — “I… you don’t have to do that, I’ll just—“ KIM KITSURAGI — “Harrier, just shut up and park your ass somewhere warm until I get there.” AUTHORITY — He’s doing it! He’s doing the eyebrow thing but on the phone! I didn’t know he could do that! YOU — “Yessir.”

It probably takes about 15 minutes for him to arrive, though each minute feels like five. You feel like a child waiting for their parents to come pick them up at school. You’re pretty sure everyone is staring at you. You can’t really see through the blurry bokeh of your stupid tears. But you can just barely make out the door of the bar opening, followed by a silhouette marked by orange slipping through. Lieutenant Kitsuragi spots you after a moment, and you quickly try to wipe your eyes like you haven’t just been crying the whole time as he approaches. KIM KITSURAGI — You can hear him pull at the chair next to yours, calmly settling into place. “Hello, detective.”

YOU — You try to pull up some words, but you just find yourself nodding appreciatively as you try not to grimace. COMPOSURE — Somehow, the moment his eyes fall on you, you feel like someone just ripped the rug right out from under your feet. You slide down on your elbows, face pressing down onto the table in humiliation, locking your hands together on the back of your neck, like you’re trying to hide in a little tomb of your own arms.

KIM KITSURAGI — You hear the lieutenant take a deep breath and sigh. He unzips his jacket, stifling him in the warm interior of the bar. “That rough, huh?”

YOU — You don’t want to say anything, but your mouth opens before you can stop it. “I’m such an asshole, Kim. I keep fucking everything up, over and over, no matter how hard I try. I just. Keep falling back into my bullshit.” Your voice shakes as you get the words out. “Is this just as good as it’s gonna get at this point? Have I fucked up entirely too much, entirely too long, am I just… this constant trainwreck now and forever? How much of myself have I wasted away into nothing, doing this shit? Acting like a child. Acting like an animal. It feels sometimes like all I have is more downturns. More hurting people. More hurting myself. And I’m so, so fucking tired… and I don’t wanna do this anymore. If this is how it is, I don’t want to… be.” Your voice stops making any noise by the time you reach the end of that.

HALF-LIGHT — And then there’s silence. You know this silence. It’s the sound of someone deciding they’re sick of your shit. This is the moment he realizes he really, truly does not know you and you don’t know him. And he knows he has to get out of here, before you take him down with you, like you’ve done to so many others. EMPATHY — But then there’s a hard pat on your back. Thumping against a hollow drum, ringing through your electrified lungs. KIM KITSURAGI — “It’s okay, detective.” PERCEPTION — His voice is soft and careful.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Honestly, it’s astonishing you’ve held out this long. It’s barely been two months since Martinaise. Since the Whirling. Throughout my time in the RCM, I have seen many good officers break over less. I didn’t know you before March. I don’t really know what kind of officer you might’ve been before that. But who I am familiar with is the Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor Harrier Du Bois, the officer I met two months ago, who is probably the strangest man I’ve ever met, but he is also the most relentless, the most stubborn, the most annoying, and honestly, the most sincere man I’ve ever known to grace the RCM. He is a man who cares enough to find the time in his busy workload to help people he just met, whose troubles he sniffs out like a bloodhound, offering them the help that no one else would. No matter how trivial, or how complicated. I don’t know if this selflessness is something you picked up because you don’t know how to help yourself, but I do know there’s a real effort in there. There’s a real, true love for the people of Revachol. And I know how much this job takes out of people. You can’t turn every mistake around in just a few months. Probably not even a few years. But I think what matters is that you are trying, and I can see how much it hurts you to feel like you’ve failed in that. Please don’t think that tonight is a sign that you can’t do better. Tonight is a dam breaking in the expectations you’ve built up for yourself after staring down your own potential.”

PERCEPTION — Are you laughing? Or is that crying? INLAND EMPIRE — It feels like there are ghosts escaping your every breath. Like parts of you are desperately rushing to the surface, tearing through flesh and bone, clawing at a chance for freedom. The lieutenant’s arm still rests heavily on your back, the only anchor your spirit has left as it dissipates into vapor and rushes through the night.

VOLITION — You cry until there’s nothing left in you anymore.

YOU — After a little while, your voice finally returns. “Why are you so nice to me?” KIM KITSURAGI — He takes a long pause and leans back in his chair. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just stubborn too.” PERCEPTION — You turn to look at him as you finally untangle yourself from your chrysalis of arms, and he looks different somehow. You don’t know if it’s your eyes being sore as hell, or the dull ambiance of the hazy bar lights. Somehow, he looks so light. His bomber jacket is slightly pulled up by his folded arms behind his head, seeming to break the bulky illusion it usually projects over his slim torso. Like suddenly seeing a gap in a suit of armor. SUGGESTION — You should tickle him. ESPRIT DE CORPS — He will kill you in mere seconds if you do that.

KIM KITSURAGI — After a moment, he realizes you’re staring at him, then adjusts in his seat, leaning forward and settling his arms in front of him. “How are you feeling? Do you think you can walk?” YOU — “I uhh... probably. My leg doesn’t hurt as much right now.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Mm.” He mutters, getting up from his seat. “At least there is that small grace. How far is your place?” PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — You’re pretty sure he’s offering to walk you back. You’re not a child, you can get home perfectly fine on your own, thank you. YOU — “Ten blocks.” COMPOSURE — You quickly try to rise to your feet, but it becomes immediately apparent that the floor has been replaced with a rickety old carousel, and you promptly lose your footing. REACTION SPEED — Before you can even attempt to figure out what is happening, you realize that Lieutenant Kitsuragi has wrapped one of his arms around your back. PERCEPTION — His grip is tight and you can feel the muscles tensing in his forearm against your back. Once again, its presence stabilizes you, a beacon for your twisting senses to converge upon. It takes a few moments for everything to slot back into the correct place. KIM KITSURAGI — “Are you sure you’re alright, detective?” DRAMA — His concern is quite sincere. YOU — “I just gotta sleep this off.” You say as you steady yourself back upright.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Let’s get going, then.” He nods to you as he zips up his jacket again, then stretches his right arm out behind your back. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — No, dude, fuck that shit, you’re sick of people propping you up because of your stupid leg, we can do this shit on our own! YOU — “Thanks.” You steady yourself against his arm and extend your left against his back as well. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — Hey, what! DRAMA — By now, the lieutenant knows when you’re just trying to bullshit and act like a tough guy. It’s time to drop the act, for now. He knows you need the help. You wouldn’t have called him if you didn’t.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — That’s all I got. The rest is just black. YOU — Ugghhhhhh damn it. Like Kim hasn’t seen enough of me making an ass of myself by now. EMPATHY — On the bright side, his mental image of you can probably only improve. Hopefully. Maybe. YOU — Whatever. What time is it? PERCEPTION — You look around for your alarm clock, and find it knocked onto the floor beside your bed. It says 9:53. YOU — Shit. Did I have work today? ESPRIT DE CORPS — No. Your hours have been temporarily reduced during your recovery period. YOU — Right. Okay. I should probably get up and do something about this headache.

You throw the blanket off of your body and gradually roll yourself out of bed, bones creaking with aches and pains, limping across the room and dodging various discarded clothes and shoes that litter the floor. You twist the doorknob and open your bedroom door, making your way across the living room, towards the bathroom.

REACTION SPEED — Wait! There’s someone… on the couch? PERCEPTION — A figure of a man lies on the couch, covered with an ugly patchwork blanket, still sleeping. Next to the couch, an orange bomber jacket rests. Wait… is that Kim? HALF-LIGHT — OH MY GOD, you’re half-naked, GET BACK IN YOUR ROOM AND PUT YOUR PANTS ON BEFORE YOU HUMILIATE YOURSELF. SAVOIR FAIRE — You quickly backpedal, trying not to make any noise, and press your door shut firmly, hoping that you weren’t noticed. YOU — Why is he here??? I thought he just walked me home? HALF-LIGHT — Stop thinking and get your damn armor on! VOLITION — Armor? We didn’t find any armor pants in Martinaise. DRAMA — He’s being metaphorical. You hurriedly stuff your legs into the closest pair of semi-clean trousers before peeking out the door again.

PERCEPTION — The lieutenant is still asleep on the couch. SAVOIR FAIRE — Alright, go time. You sneak through the living room and into the bathroom, carefully trying not to creak the medicine cabinet as you get yourself some painkillers. ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Down the whole bottle! Party time! VOLITION — No. We are not doing that.

After taking the recommended dose of painkillers, you peek out into the living room again. PERCEPTION — Lieutenant Kitsuragi is still resting quietly on your couch, lying on his back, tightly wrapped in the ugly spare blanket from your linen closet. You suddenly realize there’s something different about the living room… such as, there’s less garbage everywhere. EMPATHY — Did he clean the room up for you? Or maybe for himself?

You exit the bathroom and slowly cross the living room, stopping halfway through, looking at the lieutenant again. PERCEPTION — He looks peaceful, and his face relaxed and still. With his glasses off, you notice more of the shape of his brow and his tired eyes. His breathing is slow and measured, with quiet sighs. One of his arms dangles out from under the blanket, his hand just barely off the floor. His fingers are thin, bony, weathered from work, with little scars and blemishes that have mostly faded away.

SUGGESTION — Hold it.

YOU — What?

No one replies. You stare for a moment, feeling a tension in your chest. Curiosity snakes through your skin. You step closer towards the couch, then slowly crouch down, meeting the lieutenant’s eye level.

SUGGESTION — Hold it. Please.

You reach forward, and the lieutenant suddenly stirs.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Mmnh…” His eyes flutter open. “Oh, good morning detective.” YOU — “Uh, yeah. Good morning.” You casually withdraw your hand and rest it on your leg. “Why are you here…?” KIM KITSURAGI — “You don’t remember?” He asks with a hint of concern. YOU — “Well, mostly. I remember you helped me walk home, but after that, it’s fuzzy.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Ah, so just the normal amount of alcohol-induced forgetfulness.” The lieutenant nods at you, then sits up on the couch. He reaches for his glasses on the side table, then folds them open. “I decided to stay here on the couch, just in case...” He trails off. EMPATHY — To keep an eye on you. In case you started doing worse.

YOU — “...Thanks. I’m sorry for interrupting your night.” KIM KITSURAGI — “No need to apologize,” he says with a slight smile. “Honesty, I’m… glad you asked for help instead of isolating yourself. That would have been…” He pauses, looking for the correct words. “Not ideal. What time is it, anyway?” YOU — “Bit after 10.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Already that late? Good thing I’m not working today.”

YOU — “Sorry to make you clean up after me.” You say, glancing across the room. KIM KITSURAGI — “Well, no, it’s not your fault or anything. You didn’t expect company.” He seems a bit self-conscious suddenly, looking away. “I suppose it’s more like I don’t know how to leave a mess alone.” SUGGESTION — You’re not sure which mess he means—the apartment, or you. EMPATHY — It’s both. You feel a slight embarrassment tingling across the surface of your skin and decide to change the topic.

YOU — “You said you have the day off?” KIM KITSURAGI — “Yes, I have a few errands to run, part of some loose ends to clean up for my transfer to 41. But I can get those done any time during the day.” SUGGESTION — You should— YOU — “Do you wanna go get breakfast? I know a good place down the street.” You say it before you can even finish thinking. KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant sits quietly for a moment, adjusting his glasses. “Hmmm… sure, why the hell not. I’ve got some time to spare.” SUGGESTION — Jackpot! YOU — “I’m gonna go get dressed, you’re welcome to the bathroom if you need it.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Sounds good.”

You walk into your bedroom and shut the door behind you. 

CONCEPTUALIZATION — Time to get stylish! LOGIC — Not that stylish, it’s just breakfast. Don’t make it weird. INLAND EMPIRE — Hey, weird is our thing! YOU — I think I’m just gonna wear whatever’s clean and doesn’t smell repulsive. CONCEPTUALIZATION — Oh, sorry, didn’t know we were Boring Cop today.

After taking a quick glance at what’s available, you decide to just go with a simple, pastel gingham button-up and a fresh pair of jeans. Glancing at your coats, you grab a blue blazer with a checkered lining.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — Oh my god you look like a nerd. RHETORIC — No, he looks smart. Ready to have a battle of the wits. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — Yeah, like I said, A NERD!

You quietly ignore the high school bullying going on inside your head as you exit the room. Lieutenant Kitsuragi glances at you from next to the couch, in the middle of putting on his jacket.

KIM KITSURAGI — “No disco today?” He says with a slight smile. YOU — “All my disco’s due for the wash.” KIM KITSURAGI — He tugs at his collar and settles his jacket into place. “It’s almost odd to see you in something so… tame.” YOU — “I mean, I still got the jackets from Fuck the World and Piss F****t if you change your mind.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Somehow I doubt the waitstaff would be understanding of the artist’s statements at breakfast.” He lets out a small chuckle. EMPATHY — There’s a surprising softness in his response. KIM KITSURAGI — “I’m all set to go if you are.”

The two of you head out of your apartment and set out down the road, your destination just two blocks away. The streets of Jamrock are already lively with pedestrians and motor carriages milling about. Before long, you arrive at a staircase with a weathered, striped canopy hanging above, quietly announcing its presence with simple text saying “The Lazy Daisy”. You and the lieutenant head down the stairs and enter the little eatery, pushing past the door and being met with the sweet and salty smells of this morning’s meals. You wave to the waitress and take a seat at a little table in the corner.

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant takes his seat across from you, his eyes studying the surroundings. “You know, I never noticed this place before.” YOU — “Yeah, it’s easy to miss amongst all the other businesses on this road.” KIM KITSURAGI — “But you remembered it?” YOU — “I think my feet did.”

WAITRESS — A cheerful, pudgy woman in her forties wearing a striped apron walks over to the table, little menu books in hand. “Good morning officers! Thanks for stopping by the Lazy Daisy today. Can I get you something to drink while you look over the menu?”

YOU — “You wanna get a pot of coffee, Kim?” KIM KITSURAGI — “Sure, that sounds fine.” WAITRESS — “Alright, I’ll give you a moment to look over the menu!”

You already know what you’re going to order: skillet hash with a side of toast. You watch the lieutenant look the menu over and find yourself wondering what he’ll order. YOU — “You seem like an Eggs Benedict kind of guy to me.” KIM KITSURAGI — “I was thinking about trying this malted waffle actually. It’s been a while since I had a good waffle.” He replies, not looking up from the menu. “But you are correct, I do enjoy a good Eggs Benedict.”

YOU — “Can’t go wrong with either one.” WAITRESS — The waitress returns, a full pot of coffee in one hand and two mugs in the other. She gently places the pot of coffee at the center of the little table and places the mugs down on either side. “Alright, so what can I get for you boys?” YOU — “I’ll go for the skillet hash with a side of dry toast. And the lieutenant here…” KIM KITSURAGI — “I’ll take a malted waffle with a side of bacon.” WAITRESS — “Sounds great! I’ll bring it out when it’s ready.”

You turn your attention to the coffee and partially fill both of the mugs, absent-mindedly adding a sugar cube and a little cup of half-and-half to yours and stirring, watching the color spread and blend. You look up and notice the lieutenant surveying the restaurant again.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Hmmm… yes, this place certainly seems your style.” YOU — “What, sad and old?” KIM KITSURAGI — He smiles slightly, but his brow betrays his discomfort. “No, I was thinking more along the lines of… eclectic, stubborn, lively.” He glances at the walls covered in various posters, art, and rock and roll memorabilia. YOU — “Disco.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Disco.” He nods affirmatively.

You absently stir your coffee and lift it to your mouth to take a sip, mulling over topics of conversation. RHETORIC — Go for a standard sort of icebreaker, what’s the latest with him, that sort of thing. ESPRIT DE CORPS — Let’s talk work. Trade some gritty case stories with him! INTERFACING — Maybe you could talk torque dork to torque dork? EMPATHY — Neither of you have motor carriages right now. That would just be a bummer. INLAND EMPIRE — Ask him to tell you a secret! AUTHORITY — That one never works.

YOU — “You just moved into your new place, right Kim? How is it?” KIM KITSURAGI — “Hmm, it’s not bad. I had to make a few concessions but… there’s a bit more floor space than my last place. I finally have a good space for a proper desk.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Now the only trouble is getting a desk up three flights of stairs.”

YOU — “I can lend you a hand with that if you want. I have reason to suspect I may be a former gym teacher.” PERCEPTION — You can’t really hear it, but judging by the steam rolling away from the mug at his lips, you can tell the lieutenant let a light chuckle out through his nose before taking another sip of coffee.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Maybe I’ll take you up on that when I find something suitable.” RHETORIC — Great job! Look at you! You’re so good at talking like a normal person!

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant casually withdraws his notebook from his jacket and starts perusing it while he slowly sips his coffee. YOU — “Hey, no working until we’ve had breakfast.” KIM KITSURAGI — He barely moves, glancing upwards at you and cocking an eyebrow. AUTHORITY — It’s fine, that brow is only operating at about 25% capacity. You got this. YOU — “Take a break, lieutenant.” You place your hand on top of his, gently encouraging him to lower the notebook onto the table. He nonchalantly relents, quickly withdrawing his hand and tucking it under his other arm, which rests casually on the table. His glance wanders away from you and out towards the windows. EMPATHY — It’s hard to tell if he’s annoyed or just playing up indifference. Perhaps you shouldn’t have grabbed his hand like that.

You take a moment to look around the restaurant, passively taking in the surroundings that feel intensely familiar to your instincts, but strangely recent to the rest of you. It’s a weird feeling, one you’ve been experiencing just about everywhere you go in Jamrock. Places that you know but have never seen. Drifting shadows of the person you once were, and still are, half-buried in a haze. Your head fluctuates in the pressure, a mix of pristine images just out of reach and faint illusions gripped tightly in your palm.

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant’s low voice suddenly pulls you back to reality. “Everything alright, detective?” INLAND EMPIRE — There is a hole in my brain. YOU — “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about the usual.” You pause, contemplating your next words. “Grinding the bourgeoisie into sausage for the proletariat and whatnot,” you lie. KIM KITSURAGI — “Ah, so nice of you to join us, Comrade Mazov.” YOU — You quickly bust out your trusty finger guns and fire off two shots, clicking your tongue as you snap your fingers. KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant is unphased by your reckless discharge of live rounds that undoubtedly rain chaos upon the once peaceful restaurant. DRAMA — C’mon, he probably thinks it’s at least a little cool. EMPATHY — It’s not, man.

RHETORIC — Let’s get back to the list. What else can we talk about? YOU — “Tell me a secret about yourself.” KIM KITSURAGI — He sighs. “This again?” YOU — “You know it.” KIM KITSURAGI — He pauses for a moment. “No.” YOU — “Aww, come on.” KIM KITSURAGI — He raises one eyebrow. AUTHORITY — Oh god, we have full capacity brow-raising. I repeat, full capacity!

KIM KITSURAGI — His brow lowers slightly, offering a challenge. “You’re terrible at keeping secrets. Maybe if you can think of a single piece of personal trivia you haven’t already divulged entirely unprompted to any random passerby, we can come back to this topic.” ESPRIT DE CORPS — He does not believe that his terms can be met. He is secure in that. SUGGESTION — Challenge accepted! YOU — “Deal.” DRAMA — You’re gonna need to work on this for like, at least 8 hours probably. Maybe more like 20.

WAITRESS — The same woman reappears with a tray in hand, radiating the unmistakable smell of hot, fresh breakfast. “Here you are, sirs!” She gently slides the plates in front of each of you. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need! Enjoy your food!” PERCEPTION — You notice the name on her apron: Denice. YOU — “Thanks, Denice.” WAITRESS — She offers a polite smile before leaving.

You immediately start digging in, shoveling the mixed bits of potato, egg, bacon, and cheese into your mouth, savoring the salt and fat of a hearty breakfast. It’s your favorite meal, but you don’t always have the time or energy to get anything decent most mornings.

SUGGESTION — Hey, I just had a great idea! Offer Kim some of this shit. YOU — You finish the bite you have in your mouth quickly. “Hey, Kim, you wanna try some of mine?” KIM KITSURAGI — He blinks. “No, thank you. I’ve got plenty here.” He looks down at the colossal waffle on his plate, barely dented. YOU — “Yeah but this is like, stupid good. I’ll even let you have some egg yolk.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Very generous of you.” He smirks, then studies your plate for a moment. “Hm… sure, why not.”

You slide your plate a bit closer to him. He holds his fork up, surveying for the ideal sample size. Then, he strikes, claiming an entire egg for himself.

YOU — “Woooow.” You feign offence. KIM KITSURAGI — “Sorry, detective. I’ll need to confiscate this. I believe it may be connected to a case I’m working on.” He tries to keep a straight face but the corner of his mouth is slightly turned upwards. In seconds, he files the evidence into his mouth and promptly destroys it.

YOU — “Can’t believe the corruption I am witnessing here.” In a counter-attack, you jab your fork into one of the untouched corners of the lieutenant’s waffle. KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant stabs his knife down across from your fork, as if ready to engage in combat. He stares you down, brows furrowed with the illusion of authority. “Detective, I would tread carefully if I were you. You have entered enemy territory, and I have the high ground.”

PERCEPTION — You can feel your face turning red in the heat of the incredibly stupid breakfast battle you have entered. AUTHORITY — Do it! Let loose the dogs of war! Get that fucking waffle! KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant narrows his eyes at you, his concentration unwavering. The authority levels are building in his brow. They are charged to 50% capacity. DRAMA — I have an idea, sire.

YOU — You relax back in your seat, looking behind Kim. “Oh, hey Captain Pryce, here to enjoy the best breakfast in Central Jamrock?” KIM KITSURAGI — He quickly turns his head to look behind him. SAVOIR FAIRE — In an instant, you slice a corner of the waffle free from Kim’s plate, casually sliding it onto yours. KIM KITSURAGI — Realizing the feint, he snaps his attention back to you, glaring.

YOU — You pull your plate back, then pick up your mug, gesturing towards the lieutenant with a slight smirk. “Truce?” KIM KITSURAGI — Studying you for a moment, he reluctantly picks up his mug and clinks it against yours. “For now.”

[curiousconch]

Rose-colored Glass 

Chapter 11 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: As winter began its rein in Boston, Heather finds a way to cope with her trauma, discovering the truth while remembering her past. 

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song)

Words: 1.8k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / emotional trauma, death

Author's Notes: This week has been hard for me, and writing this chapter was unimaginably difficult because of it. Thankfully, like Heather, I found a way to cope, and people to help me get through with it. So instead of moping around, I finished this, inspired by the hauntingly beautiful classic song La Vie En Rose (I listened to this particular version on repeat). So, this is for you Nina, rest well in heaven. 

Thank you so much for taking time to read this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song. I also do not claim ownership over the lyrics of La Vie en Rose embedded in this chapter.

Heather's discharge went smoothly, contrary to the time she spent in recovery. Her friends needed to stay behind to complete their shifts, and although Kyra offered to take her home, she refused. She needed to do something first. Heather did agree to let her bring her things back to the apartment, with one exception.

 Her slimmed fingers tightly gripped on the straps of the small bag she was carrying. The sunglasses she brought along tucked on the collar of her salmon sweater, not needing it anymore due to the cluster of clouds that blocked out the sun. Although it was almost noon, the chilly weather provided some semblance of shade as the heels of her boots thumped softly against the soft white snow-covered ground. 

Her gray coat was sprinkled small flakes of snow, as she navigated herself easily amongst the unmarked path, that if a spectator observed, they would readily know that she visited this place often. 

Heather's steps halted as she neared a willow tree, standing in front of a moss-colored headstone, aged by the almost seven years of Boston rain. 

Despite the gloom of her surroundings, Heather's lips curled into a smile, as she kneeled down to gently place the bouquet of pink roses she bought along the way. 

"Hi mom," she said, as the tips of her fingers skimmed the name carved in stone. "I'm sorry it took me so long to visit again. Things have been a little rough." 

She went still for a moment, relishing the poignant silence in remembrance. 

More than her ambition of being trained by America's top diagnostician, this was the reason why she chose Edenbrook. To be near her, to be in her mother's home city, it somehow filled the emptiness of missing her so much. To walk on the same pavements, to spend time in the same parks and places she's been to brought Heather nothing but the strength and determination to make something out of her once miserable life. Whenever she doubted herself, or when she was about to give up, the thought of her mom fighting a sickness no one should endure, gave Heather the much needed relief and energy to get back up again. 

And that's the reason she stood there that cold winter morning. She needed her mom to come through her once again. 

Heather closed her eyes momentarily, letting the rush of the nauseating trauma of the past few weeks resurface. Her whole being has run out dry, weakening her knees. She just felt so numb inside. 

So without inhibitions, she recalled the recent events that turned her life upside down. She told about the threats over her life, and how close she was to her own death. She spoke about Raf and their recent fallout, how heartbreaking it was but relieving at the same time. She brought up Bryce last. 

"This man, mom... I can't even begin to explain how I feel about him," Heather said as she rubbed a hand over her temple. "There's something about him that I just couldn't describe. It's been there since I've first met him, and it's still here until now..." 

Her head dropped low in between her shoulders, as she remembered with fondness the emotions that Bryce stirred within her the first time they met, leading up to their frustrating confrontation. Heather irked as the thought of her failure came. 

"But somehow, I messed it up. I picked someone else, because I was too afraid..." she revealed. She knew what she felt around him, but did her best to bury it. "Although I often wondered of what we could be, or what we could have been, the deep-seated fears of heartbreak, of what you and dad went through... I just couldn't act on it." she admitted. 

"Yet when I was faced with the choice between life or death, all I had was his words, no one else's," she paused, recalling how she soldiered on towards her own escape, empowered by the same declaration during their day out in the trampolines. 

"But now I'm afraid I'm too late, mom. I may have missed out on something great... Your daughter is a coward," she bit her lip, her eyes glistening. "Am I really too late?" 

The question felt like a cliffhanger, never to be answered. 

Sighing deeply, she collected her remaining energy to unzip the small bag she brought with her. She wrapped her hands around the neck of the instrument, pulling out a mahogany-stained ukelele. It was the last gift that she received from her mom, the very same she used to play her songs during their rare downtime.

She tucked its body between her arm and chest, as she tightened its strings with the tuners. With one satisfied strum, she began to sing the song that she and her mom always sang during the roughest period of their lives. 

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me heaven sighs, 

And though I close my eyes 

I see la vie en rose

In a rush, those simple words tingled her sensations in reminiscence from flashes of her adolescence - the late night talks, the bonding over ramen noodles, her alcoholic initiation by soju, those times that they saw a movie together, the smell of pancakes and eggs in the morning. 

In the few short years they were given, Heather treasured each memory more than anything in her life. Even the tragedy of watching her mom deteriorate because of her sickness, of those last months spent in a cramped hospital ward, she wouldn't trade it even for a pot of gold. Though in pain, her mother would whisper promises that she'll always be there for her, no matter what. Until her last breath, she held her daughter's hand. Those were priceless, shared souvenirs of a life well-lived. Of a life Heather hoped she could lead. 

When you press me to your heart

I'm in a world apart, a world where roses bloom

And when you speak, angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

Within those short verses contained the life lesson her mom taught her over and over again - to see life through rose colored glasses. Singing it reminded her that even if she was long gone, the memory of her will be embedded within, whispering that no matter what, there's a reason to continue living. 

Smiling through her tears, her head tilted up to the heavens, praying that the divine could carry her thanks to her mom. For once again, in the most difficult time of her life, she did follow through. 

As a sense of peace weaved itself through her, she opened her eyes and felt the clouds dissipate. With it were the frayed edges of the shadows of fear, regret and anger. And although she knew that it will still haunt her, she was content that healing has at least begun. 

After a few more moments of silence, she placed the ukelele back into the bag and glanced endearingly upon the headstone. She skimmed her fingers over her mother's name, vowing to come back soon. 

She swiveled herself to the opposite direction and began the path back to the cemetery gates, when her hazel orbs fell upon a pair of familiar leather shoes and gray slacks, making her stop in her tracks.

When she titled her head to see the face she expected to see, a pair of amber eyes met hers that made her breath hitch. They were filled with warmth and affection that heated the cold air and melted her inside.

"You're not too late," Bryce finally said, breaking into the quiet. His mouth formed a lopsided smile, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black coat which edges reached to his knees. 

"Seems like it," Heather replied, snapping out of the daze that suddenly came over her, lips curving. "Wait, you heard everything?" 

Bryce couldn't stifle a chuckle as he nodded, the adrenaline that rushed through him earlier as he tried to track her down slowly draining from him. A new and overwhelming feeling took its place as he planted the soles of his shoes on the soft snow, bridging the gap between them. 

Once he was near enough, he gently wrapped an arm around Heather's waist, pulling her close. The knuckles of his other hand brushed her jawline until his thumb grazed her chin. His gaze lingered down on hers, completely magnetized by the depths of the windows of her soul, begging for her consent. 

Heather's palms settled onto the nape of his neck, her lips parting to grant him permission. 

In a heartbeat, Bryce tenderly pressed his lips upon hers, releasing the long-running yearning they buried so well. Unspoken words no longer need to be said aloud, clarity dawning in them both as their mouths crashed. Soft moans escaped from them as they deepened their passionate kiss, unrestrained in expressing their newfound freedom. 

When at last they stopped to catch their breaths, Bryce leaned his forehead on hers, understanding that his unrequited love was never unanswered, only delayed. That after a year of pining, here she was, standing in front of him, a realization of a dream that for so many times he willed to come true. After all the nights of hoping and hurting, he couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the sight of her in his arms. A thought poked into his mind as he started to recall where they were. 

"Well this is awkward..." the young lawyer muttered,  with a sudden shift in his voice. 

"Hm?" Heather's eyes snapped open, dumbfounded. 

"I know I always wanted to kiss you," he grinned as he paused, before continuing, "but never in a million years did I think that the first time I did is in front of your mom."

At first her brows furrowed, but seeing Bryce's mischievous expression, Heather couldn't keep herself from laughing. 

Inspired by the music of her genuine laughter, Bryce joined in. The sound of their giggles echoing through the poignant space around them. 

Heather can't remember the last time when she laughed this hard. There were so many things that hung over her head that she almost forgot how to do it. But with Bryce, it came so easily. A sense of joy began to bloom in her, and when she saw the same glint in his eyes, she knew he felt exactly the same. 

With their fingers intertwined and arms around each other's, they walked the path that only earlier they trudged separately. And now with their hearts finally out in the open, their tracks carved into the thin sheet of snow, unveiling the lush greens of the grass hidden beneath, eager to leaving what's behind, together.

Tags: @eleanorbloom @ramsey-lahela @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[verai-marcel]

I found you on AO3. Love your work! I was wondering if you could do something with Arthur and Abigail during John’s yearlong absence. Smut it up! Please and thank you! 😊

Just This Once (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur x Abigail, 18+)

Summary: It’s been 11 months since John left the gang. On a cold winter’s night, Abigail sits alone and cries silently, heartbroken and lonely. In a moment of weakness, she does what she never thought she would do again: seeks the warmth of another man.

Author’s Notes: According to the Red Dead wiki, Arthur and Abigail have a 14 year age gap, making her 19 and Arthur 33 in 1896, which is roughly when John is gone. I saw the whispers of this relationship in game and I think this was the second relationship that was cut from the story. So I’ll explore this what-if through my writing.

Tags: angst, smut, plot, age difference, RDR2 spoilers

AO3 Link is over yonder.

——————–

Abigail slowly lay Jack down to sleep in her bed, brushing his hair with her tired hand and smiling softly at her baby. She loved her little boy, more than anything. If only… if only John loved him too. If only he loved her enough to stay.

She quietly left the tent and walked to the edge of the nearby stream to take a moment to herself. She had to be realistic. It had been almost a year. John wasn’t coming back. She had fallen for him, loved him hard, perhaps too hard, and now she had lost him. Staring up at the starry sky, she let out a sigh, wrapping her shawl around her tighter against the winter chill. 

She heard the crunch of leaves and twigs under heavy boots and recognized the particular gait of its owner. Turning to him, she attempted to smile, but even she could tell her lips wavered.

“Better get back inside, it’s cold out here.” Arthur looked as if he wanted to say more, but waited for her to respond.

“Just a moment longer. I just need… a moment.”

He took another two steps to stand next to her. “I have some whiskey, if it’ll help.”

Arthur didn’t share his personal stash of whiskey lightly. He knew she was missing John fiercely, and he hated watching the light slowly fade from her eyes over the past few months. Where was that fierce woman who stood up to the world and spat in its face? Seeing her like this did something to his insides that he didn’t want to examine any further. He just wanted her to be happy again, like she was when she… well, when she had started to fall for John. He kicked himself mentally for where his mind had gone.

Abigail nodded. “I’ll take you up on that, Arthur.” She quietly followed him back to his tent, which he had closed up to keep the warmth in as much as possible. He pulled out the bottle from a box underneath his cot and handed it to her.

“Sorry I don’t have no fancy cups or nothin’,” he mumbled.

She took the bottle and took a very hearty swig. “Thank you,” she said, making a face as the alcohol burned her throat all the way down. Handing the bottle back to him, she sat down on his cot and let out another deep sigh. “Can I… can I ask you somethin’?”

He sat next to her and took a drink of whiskey. “Sure,” he said, although a bit hesitantly.

“I miss him. How… how do you cope?”

Arthur let out a deep sigh of his own. “You jus’ hafta take life one day at a time. And if you’re still livin’ the next day, then you got to deal with it then too.”

She looked at him, a sadness filling her eyes. She understood; Mary had left a giant hole in Arthur’s heart. Tilly was irritated whenever her name was brought up, and Hosea would glare at anyone who brought her up in Arthur’s presence. And then losing Eliza and Isaac only tore that hole further.

Placing her hand on his knee, she just nodded. “It… It hurts. Even after all this time.”

Before he could think better of it, Arthur wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling Abigail into his arms for a comforting hug. She felt so small in his embrace, so warm and soft. A protectiveness surged in his heart, and Arthur, unable to stop himself, laid a soft kiss on her temple.

Abigail held her breath. Her heart belonged to John, but her body reacted to the physical comfort that Arthur brought. She leaned into him, remembering the way he had felt beneath her.

Had it only been two years since she had joined the gang? Uncle had introduced her as a working girl, to help with chores and occasionally warm beds to keep morale up amongst the men, in exchange for a safe place to live and food to eat. Most of the men had bedded her; even Arthur had, but only once, after he came back drunk and depressed. He never said why he was so unhappy that night; only that he took her hand, led her to his tent, and asked to have her. He had been so gentle, so giving, and when he was done, he had curled up around her and cradled her close to him as he slept. She had wondered what kind of man he would have been if he hadn’t been in this kind of life. 

Then John started to fall for her, and she for him, and she started doing more chores to make up for her no longer wanting to warm beds, which Dutch and Hosea agreed with. She could say that most of the men she had been with had fucked her, but only two men had made love to her: John… and Arthur.

“Can… can I stay?” she whispered as she looked up at him. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Arthur pulled back and met her eyes, torn between craving the physical intimacy and his own resentment. She loved John, not him. She was just feeling lonely and wanted someone, anyone.

“Just this once. Please, Arthur.”

He couldn’t leave her alone, not when she was looking up at him with a loneliness that mirrored his own. After a few moments, he sighed and nodded.

“Alright, but no kissin’ on the lips. That’s my only rule.”

She nodded, not wanting to question him, and leaned her forehead against his shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered as she reached up to unbutton his shirt.

“O’course,” Arthur said with a wry smile as he let her remove his clothes, sitting back and taking in her beautiful form as she did the same. Watching the shirt slide off her shoulders, the skirt flutter down from her hips, he felt his blood burn with desire; it had been so long since he’d laid with a woman, and Abigail was certainly a fine specimen. Her skin was soft as he caressed her shoulder and arm, taking her wrist and pulling her close. Grabbing the blanket, he covered them both as he laid down on his back, draping her over his body. She held him close, snuggling against his warmth as he stroked her back, his hands trailing along her skin, giving her goosebumps as she sighed with pleasure.

He trailed kisses on her neck and earlobe as she sat up and straddled him. Cupping her generous bosom, he pinched her nipples just to see her reaction. Abigail bit her lip, controlling her voice as she leaned forward into his touch. She rolled her hips against him, his cock straining to enter her inviting heat.

“Been so long,” he mumbled.

“Me too,” she sighed as she slowly lifted her hips and lowered herself onto his length, reveling in the intimate embrace, of feeling filled up by a man. She had missed this feeling of physical connection, and even though Arthur wasn’t the man she loved, she trusted him with her life. If ever she was in danger, she knew that Arthur was the sort of man who would save her. It was a deep feeling, a different kind of love.

When she was fully seated on his member, Arthur gripped her hips and started to guide her pace. As she started to ride him, he controlled her speed, keeping her slow at first, but as their desire built higher and higher, he couldn’t help his own movements as he moved her faster on his cock.

“I need more,” he murmured before pulling her close and rolling over so she was beneath his body. Lifting his hips, he took her from this new angle, watching her throw her head back and pant. She tried to keep herself quiet, but the strength of his thrusts drew out a small mewl from her, and he quickly covered her mouth with a big hand. 

“Hush now, don’t want anyone knowin’ about this,” he whispered. She nodded in agreement.

He wrapped his other arm around her and buried his face into her neck. Smelling her unique scent, Arthur sucked on her neck and collarbone, losing himself to her lush body, the heat enveloping him. Her muffled moans of pleasure sounded like heaven in his ears. For one swift moment, he wished she was his.

If only. If only Abigail would forget John, as if she could. If only Mary didn’t invade his thoughts, as she too often did.

His mind replaced Abigail’s face with Mary’s for a second too long, and to his deepest shame, he almost shot his spend inside. Pulling out quickly, he buried his moans into her chest as he spent himself on her belly instead.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Arthur mumbled as he collapsed next to her. He trailed his hand down her body until he reached her core, and started to stroke her. “Lemme help you.”

Abigail turned towards Arthur, clinging to his shoulders as he touched her in just the right way, just like he did that one night long ago. She came in his arms, shuddering and biting down on his shoulder to stifle her sounds of release.

Afterwards, they lay together, just breathing deep, Abigail’s head buried in Arthur’s chest, her body tucked against his for warmth.

“Thank you,” Abigail finally whispered.

He nodded, then after a few silent moments, he spoke, almost too low for her to hear. 

“If you ever need me, Abigail, I’ll be there. Always.”

***

Arthur awoke to feel wetness on his chest. Looking down, he watched Abigail murmur in her sleep, a few tears sliding down her face.

“John…”

He sighed. Of course. Even though he knew what he got himself into, it still hurt to hear another man’s name on the lips of a woman he just laid with, and his heart burned with even more resentment. That dumb bastard had no idea how lucky he was.

***

In 1907, on a cold winter’s day, John finally, finally, opened Arthur’s journal. Being an idiot, he read the last entry first.

“John, protect Abigail and Jack.”

He nodded; he could almost hear Arthur in his head saying those words to him. Then he flipped to the beginning of the journal to read from there. So engrossed in his brother’s entries, he didn’t hear Abigail as she sat down on the bed next to him and looked over his shoulder.

“Is that me?" 

John blinked and looked over at her, and then looked down at the page he was reading. "Yeah.”

“Arthur… drew me?" 

"And the boy too.”

“What does his entry say?" 

John debated lying to her, but that wasn’t his way. Honesty above all else, even if the rest of his morals weren’t as crystal clear. So he took a deep breath, and read it out loud to her. 

He looked up to see Abigail holding her mouth closed, fighting back tears. He put the journal down and held his arms out to her. She fell into his arms, clinging to him tightly as she took shuddering breaths, trying to regain her composure. 

"He did a lot for us,” John whispered. “I, we, won’t ever forget him.”

John felt her nodding. He just held Abigail close, feeling her warmth, her softness. He felt incredibly grateful that he was able to live on and be with her, that she still stayed with him after all his mistakes. After a while, a wistful smile spread across his face as he thought back to the past.

Arthur was right; he was the luckiest man alive.

——————–

End Notes: I hope I did this request justice, @jesusismyhostage​. I really wanted this to be as canon-compliant as possible, because I want to believe that this could totally have happened in game. Anyway, let me know what you think!

[imagine-loki]

Wedded Bliss

TITLE: Wedded Bliss CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 40 AUTHOR: MaliceManaged ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Odin determined to find Loki a wife in a misguided, though somewhat well-intentioned attempt to ‘mellow him’. … RATING: T _____________________

Loki ended up having to magick the glitter off himself and Edith, else they never would have gotten rid of it in time for the party that evening, there was so much of it. When the cake was mostly gone and more than a few jokes were made about Loki’s age that got Tony quite a few slaps to the shoulder from Pepper; Natasha and Pepper whisked Edith away to get themselves dressed for the party while Tony took charge of the guys. Edith had, as she usually did, worked with a seamstress early in the month to design her dress and even had some input for Natasha and Pepper’s, so they had the dresses brought up to the penthouse for a final fitting along with some champagne.

“You guys seemed a bit closer,” Pepper commented as the seamstress made a few tiny adjustments to the back of her royal blue dress, “I take it he liked your present?”

“He did,” Edith grinned then bit her bottom lip, “We may have shared ‘I love you’s…”

“Oh, my god, that’s great!”

“Yeah. Thanks so much, you guys, for helping me with that; hiding it until then by myself would have been impossible.”

“Well, what are friends for if not hiding things from your boyfriend?” Natasha joked, winking and taking a sip from her glass, earning laughs from the other women.

“I’ll drink to that,” Edith replied with a sip of her own. She eyed Pepper up and down as she struck a pose once the seamstress was done, “Oh, niiiice! Sexy!”

Pepper laughed. “Why, thank you! I really like this colour, and your taste is impeccable as always.”

Edith basked in the praise happily before waving at Natasha to stand up. “Come on, you next, Nat!”

Natasha rolled her eyes but nonetheless stood and walked over behind the screen set up in the room to change, coming out a bit later in a sleeveless dress of a grey so deep it was almost black, though it shimmered red as she moved. “Well, it looks like you finally did it,” she commented amusedly as she stepped onto a low platform so the seamstress could shorten the hem a bit and looked at herself in the mirror, “You finally got me into something shiny.”

“I told you I’d do it,” Edith replied smugly.

“How in the world did you keep that little detail a secret?” Pepper asked, more than a little impressed.

“Bribes, Pepper. Bribes.”

“Ah, of course; a time-honoured tradition.”

Edith’s dress was a dark red halter top that fitted her closely to the lower waist then flared out into a sea of crimson and yellow skirts cut in such a way as to look as though it were fire, and Pepper gasped as she walked out from behind the screen. “And here I thought your prom dress was perfect,” she managed, “You look so beautiful.”

“You’re going to give that boyfriend of yours a heart attack,” Natasha commented, twirling her finger to prompt her to turn.

“Stooop,” Edith laughed, blushing, giving a little twirl that caused the skirts to fan out around her, “You guys are going to make me cry.”

With the fittings done the seamstress left, thanking them for both their patronage and being her most delightful regulars, then between the three of them they did their hair and makeup, with Edith doing most of the latter since no one would contest that she was the best at it. Once that and their accessorising was finished they took the elevator down to the parking level, where Happy waited by a limo to drive them to the venue Tony had booked for the party. They chatted idly along the way, then Pepper and Edith posed for the photographers that had predictably amassed outside the building; Natasha had mysteriously vanished, though they ran into her again as soon as they were done.

Inside was full of guests, though Tony was hard to miss, standing on a stage greeting everyone in his usual fashion of telling everyone to have fun and get very drunk. Steve was close to the doors, going over to greet them and telling them where he’d last seen the others; Pepper went over to get Tony off the stage before he said something regrettable, Natasha went looking for Bruce, figuring he might not be too happy by himself in a crowd, and Edith sought out Loki, wanting to see if Tony had managed to convince him to wear a suit as opposed to his own asgardian formalwear.

He saw her first, coming down from the second floor where he’d been looking over the balcony at the rest of the crowd, though when she spotted him she couldn’t help but to let out a laugh; Tony had indeed managed to get a suit on him, though she should have guessed Loki would never agree unless it involved a long coat. She met him at the bottom of the stairs, giving him her hand to kiss with a soft giggle before leaning up to kiss him, her heels making that significantly easier than usual.

She took one end of the scarf he was wearing and hummed. “You know, I figured you’d go back for this.”

“What can I say? It called to me,” he replied, earning a laugh. He looked her up and down, “You look… would ‘radiant’ be too on the nose?” Edith snorted before laughing out loud, getting a few amused stares. “I am going to hazard a guess that you had a hand in creating this dress?”

“Eh, maybe a little bit,” Edith replied, lifting a hand and holding her thumb and pointer finger about an inch apart, causing him to laugh softly. “You look criminally good in a suit, it must be said.”

“I am glad you approve,” he replied, practically preening at the compliment, then offered his arm, “Shall we find something to eat? As delicious as that cake was, it was entirely too long ago.”

“Too true,” she agreed, taking his arm.

As the night wore on they ate, drank, danced and mingled; Edith and Clint poked fun at Loki for the fans he seemed to have amassed at some point that he seemed more bemused than anything at and Steve had to intervene with a very drunk guest that attempted to get hands-y with Natasha before she murdered the man, but otherwise there were no incidents of note.

It wasn’t until about twenty minutes to midnight that that changed; Edith had been talking to Pepper and the CEO of a corporation aiming to do business with Stark Industries when there was a scream quickly followed by a gunshot and then more screams, and she whipped her head in their direction to see two masked gunmen carrying more SHIELD tech coming in, with more covering the other doors. They began shouting at the quickly panicking guests to get down on the floor, and Edith bent to grab a pair of knives from the thigh holsters she was wearing before urging Pepper and the businessman to find cover.

Slipping her heels off, Edith crept as stealthily as she could towards the nearest gunman before coming up behind him and jabbing one of her knives into the gap between the vest he was wearing and his underarm, causing him to cry out in pain and alerting the rest of them to her presence. As they turned to her, though, several darts rained down on the nearest from Clint up on the second floor balcony.

Natasha came up behind another gunman, jamming her ‘bracelets’ – which were actually her Widow’s Bite – into his neck and knocking him out, while Steve grabbed a serving tray and threw it at another, knocking the gun out of his hand, before moving to tackle another. Loki threw a shield up over the crowd as another gunman tried firing on them, swiftly closing on him and disarming him before knocking him out with an elbow to the face; he looked over to where he’d last seen Bruce, but the man had wisely removed himself from the situation as soon as the first shot had been fired, instead helping herd people towards the back of the building away from the potential crossfire.

Tony had, of course, brought one of his suits, and though he couldn’t risk firing his repulsors with the civilians there he could still fight the gunmen hand to hand. His main priority was to distract them until the guests were out of the way, coordinating with Loki, who was using illusions to disorient the enemy further. With their combined efforts the gunmen were subdued, and Natasha was calling in SHIELD when they heard a sharp gasp; looking over, one last enemy had grabbed hold of Pepper and was holding a gun to her head.

“One move, and she dies!” he threatened, only to cry out in pain as she drove her heel into his foot. Not a second later, Clint threw a small throwing knife he’d gotten from Loki earlier, hitting the gunman right between the eyes.

“You okay, Pep?” Tony asked as he shed his Iron Man suit and went over to her.

“Fine,” she replied, straightening her dress out with only a hint of a tremor, “Impeccable aim as always, Clint, thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

“This all of them?” Edith asked nobody in particular.

“Looks like.”

“Bruce? Where’s Bruce?”

“Here,” Bruce replied as he walked back over, “I’m good. The guests are shaken, but I don’t think anyone’s hurt.”

“Good work,” Steve said, patting his arm as he passed him.

Once SHIELD took away the gunmen and the guests were seen to, the team returned to the tower and cracked open a couple bottles of champagne, determined to celebrate regardless of interruptions.

“To an uninterrupted New Year’s,” Edith toasted, “It’s gotta happen sometime.”

“Wait; this happens every year?” Bruce asked incredulously as the rest cheered.

“Pretty much; apparently the bad guys think we’ll be too busy partying to be prepared for attacks?”

“Huh.”

“I want to know how they keep getting SHIELD weapons,” Steve commented.

“No,” Tony said firmly, interrupting the beginning of Natasha’s reply, “That’s morning problems; right now we’re celebrating.”

Steve conceded, raising his hands in surrender, and Natasha rolled her eyes but let the matter drop.

[holidaywishes]

Telling Mom and Dad

Part three: telling mom and dad

  Summary: pretty much what it sounds like

  Warnings: angst, swearing maybe? Some steam I think

  Author’s Note: i’m glad that this one’s getting some love, I’m actually very much enjoying writing this series. I think mostly because they’re short and I don’t have to think too much on them -- they’re more like blurbs I guess. But they’re fun. Hope you keep reading what I write and that you enjoy it! Thanks loves!

  P.S. The whole Mamì thing might get taken out because I’m not sure how i feel about it but let me know if it sounds weird or creepy and that’ll help me make up my mind about it.

  You had finally agreed to talk to Ema and Brian about the pregnancy. Auston assured you it would be fine, that there wouldn’t be any judgement from them but that didn’t stop you from thinking of the worst possible scenario.

  “Look, your parents love you. They won’t want you to ruin your life with this…” you said as you paced back and forth, “what if they force you to leave me?” Auston rushed to you, wrapping you in a warm, reassuring hug

  “They won’t do that. Even if they said it, I wouldn’t listen,” his hands rubbed up and down your back, trying to soothe you, “I love you too much…” You finally pulled away, faking a smile as you walked into the kitchen, away from Auston.

  “Are we going to go to Arizona? Or they coming to Toronto?”

  “They’ll come here…” he hesitated, “that way we can escape if we need to.” His words made you smile and you let out a sigh of release. You were also glad that his sisters wouldn’t be there -- they had never really taken to you; the age gap was a problem for them. You just weren’t prepared to cater to them as well during this confession. Auston called his parents and you heard him greet his mom happily, so you crept around the corner to spy on him, watching his face light up with every response Ema was giving him. When he was finally off the phone, he rushed over to you and told you they’d be in Toronto the following week.

  “That’s so soon!”

  “It gives us a little time to sort out any questions we think they might ask…”

  “Aus, babe, I don’t think they’re going to ask any question other than, ‘how?’ or like why…”

  “Just trust me baby, we’ll be fine.” You tilted your head, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek gently

  “You better be right…” you whispered in his ear, sending a chill down his spine and you felt his hands grip your waist a little tighter but you pushed them away, turning on your heels to walk away when Auston slapped your ass and you let out a small squeal.

  “Get back over here and do something about it” he teased and you shook your head, teasing him right back, swaying your hips back and forth as you sauntered away. When you got to the kitchen sink, you could feel his eyes on you and when you turned to look at him, his eyes were dark and lustful.

  “Auston?” you said cautiously and he pushed himself off the couch where he was leaning, his large gait getting him to you quicker than you could move away

  “What do you say we go upstairs?” his one hand found your waist while the other snaked through your hair and his thumb swiped across your cheek, “take advantage of the alone time we have together. Before my parents get here, before Baby comes…” You were kind of entranced by the way his thumbs moved across your skin so featherlightly and your breath was staying in your throat; you hadn’t even thought about the fact that your sex life might potentially completely vanish during the pregnancy and you wanted to pounce on him right then and there. Still, no words came from your throat, only moans and whimpers, which Auston smiled proudly at, grabbing your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist and carry you upstairs. Your lips connected to his immediately, locking him into a heated kiss that almost distracted him enough to crash into the wall opposite his bedroom but he managed to get both of you safely to the bed, placing you down gently. He lifted your arms up so he could pull your shirt off but you put your arms down to take his shirt off first, biting your lip as you stood up to press your chest against his body.

  “I want to strip for you…” you said, now unbuckling his belt and moving him so he was sitting on the bed, he just nodded; his silence was his approval. You began a small strip tease for him but when the silence made it 100 times more awkward, you went to put on some music. That’s when you saw Ema’s message on your phone.

  “Excited to see you, my dear, it’s been so long!” your heart sunk slightly, wondering if her feelings to you would still be the same after you told her you were pregnant

  “I’m excited to see you too, Ema!” you typed back, biting the inside of your cheek nervously

  “What’s going on?” Auston called from the bed, leaning forward when he saw the nerves on your face

  “I’m talking to your mom…” you answered and before you knew it, he was beside you, peering over your shoulder

  “We’ll all go out for a nice dinner, maybe go see a show? Just spending time with each other is good for us. We miss you both, Mija.”

  “She ruined the mood didn’t she?” Auston mumbled as he kissed the top of your head. All you could do was nod. She had ruined the mood but only because the idea of her texting while you were stripping for her son felt a little too… invasive.

  “I’m sorry, Aus…” you finally said, turning to give him a hug, holding there for a minute before you felt him kiss your cheek.

  “Nah, it’s okay. Just know…” he warned, “the longer you wait to have sex, the more likely it’ll be that you don’t get it…” You furrowed your brow and laughed at him, knowing he was probably right but you weren’t feeling it anymore. Your phone dinged one more time but this time it was a text from Brian

  “See you soon, girlie” you smiled at his nickname for you

  “Looking forward to it” you typed slowly, unsure if those were the words you really wanted to send, you wandered over to the bed with your phone and cuddled next to Auston. A few minutes later you got a reply from Brian

  “Auston said you two have some news for us? Ema and I are trying to see if we can guess it before we see you… lol”

  “YOU TOLD HIM?!” you shouted to your boyfriend, noticing his eyes go wide and his face attempt to find an excuse, settling on “just that we had news, not what the news was…” which earned a smack from you before you shoved him back; now clearly annoyed at his presence.

  You and Auston stood outside the Airport terminal waiting for Ema and Brian, you faced Auston with your arms wrapped tightly around his waist while his fingers interlocked around your waist as he watched the door open and close.

  “Is the plane late?” he asked, still watching the doors intently, “it seems to be taking a long time…”

  “Auston,” you pulled his chin down so he was looking at you then tucked your arm back around his waist, “everything is fine. It’s probably just crowded..” He smiled at you and nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead before going back to eyeing the doors, making you laugh and shake your head, nuzzling your head into his chest to warm yourself up from the cold Toronto air. When Auston finally saw his parents walk out of the terminal, his face was overcome with happiness; a huge smile spreading across his cheeks.

  “Mamì!” he greeted, pulling Ema in for a tight hug, while Brian walked over to you for a small hug until Auston was free

  “(Y/N)!” Ema turned to you, bringing you close for a hug similar to the one she’d just shared with Auston, “you look beautiful! But let’s get into the car. It’s freezing!” you nodded enthusiastically, walking to the car arm-in-arm with Ema; Auston close behind, guiding you with his hand on the small of your back so you didn’t fall. You hopped in the back of the car with Ema while Brian got into the passenger seat

  “Everyone in?” Auston checked receiving a round of ‘yeahs’ before heading out of the airport, “so what’s the plan?”

  “I thought you were the one with the plan, Papì” Brian laughed, shoving Auston slightly

  “I was just checking if there was anything in particular you guys wanted to do while you were here…”

  “Let’s settle in first, warm up, then we can go for dinner” Ema responded, pulling you close to her and you noticed Auston eyeing the two of you in the rearview mirror, letting out a small smile.

  “Sounds good to me” Brian responded and Auston agreed, while you just nodded to Ema in the backseat. When the four of you got back to Auston’s apartment, his parents dropped off their bags in the guest room as you and Auston wandered into the kitchen, embracing each other, both of you letting out a sigh and giggling as you exhaled

  “Hey” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you and swaying you back and forth

  “Hey” you whispered back, resting your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat

  “You ready to tell them?” he asked suddenly and you tore your head away from his chest

  “We’re not telling them now are we?!” he noticed the panic that was starting to cover your face and he rubbed your arms to calm you down

  “No, no, babe, calm down,” his voice was soft, “I just mean.. We’ll probably tell them at dinner, you okay with that?”

  “Yeah.. it’s better that way. Public. Little chance of making a scene” you joked and he scrunched his face at you mockingly before leaning down to capture your lips in a soft kiss

  “Ooh sorry sorry,” Ema said as she came around the corner, forcing you and Auston to back away from each other, “didn’t mean to interrupt. You two look so cute, don’t mind us.” A blush rose to your cheek and you crept closer to Auston, sinking into his side to hide the colour on your face, he put his arm around you to pull you close to him, a smile growing on his face

  “It’s alright Mamì,” he giggled, “we were just taking a breath. Deciding what we should do next, movie or play some board games maybe?” When Ema enthusiastically agreed, you glanced up at Auston and he had a mischievous grin on his face

  “Girls against guys?” he goated

  “I’m in, (Y/N), how about you?” Ema answered and you nodded your head in response. Once Brian was in the room, you all sat down and pulled out Monopoly, setting up the board and dividing into teams. Everyone seemed to take it easy for the first round, not wanting to get overly competitive but a few rounds later and Monopoly had turned everyone against each other. This game was evil. After that, the group took corners and cooled down before Brian broke the silence by asking who was hungry, getting nods from the rest of the group. There was still some tension when you got to the restaurant but you tucked yourself into the booth next to Auston, smiling at Ema and Brian to try and make the most of the evening.

  “So, anything look good?” Brian asked while everyone looked through the matte pages of the restaurant menu

  “Everything looks good to me,” Auston added, “babe, you see anything?”

  “Still looking through…” you smiled at him, “Ema?” It was a weird game of back and forth because of the residual tension of Monopoly but after a few glasses of wine, and a cocktail or two, everyone seemed to loosen up.

  “I think now is as good a time as any to tell them…” Auston whispered in your ear, “you’re sober, they’re… tipsy, no better time.” You peered into his eyes, to see if he was serious, and he just raised his eyebrows and tipped his head in their direction

  “I don’t know Auston, maybe we should wait until everyone is sober. Maybe it’s better if they’re able to understand, you know?”

  “Mhmm Mhmm, sure, sure,” he mumbled, “Mom, Dad. We have some news for you!”

  “Auston!” you chided

  “Oooh we finally get to hear the news! We’ve been wondering when you would tell us” Ema confessed

  “What is it?” Brian slurred slightly

  “(Y/N), babe, go on” Auston threw you to the wolves, forcing you to scowl at him

  “Ema, Brian…” you started, “I.. I mean I guess we… I’m pregnant...” The words flew out of your lips louder than you expected and you watched as Brian and Ema’s face fell

  “Dad, Mamì, this is exciting right?” Auston interjected, trying to get a smile on their faces

  “Are you getting married?” Brian asked and your eyes went wide

  “No…” you and Auston said at once, looking between each other

  “So, you’re going to keep the baby?” Brian continued, Ema still sitting in silence

  “Yes, dad”

  “Papì, you’re 21 years old. You’re a professional athlete. (Y/N),” he turned to you, “you’re 26. You’re starting a very stressful business. Think about your futures. Is bringing a baby into this scenario the best thing?” You were stunned, so desperately wanting to take a shot or a drink from an adult beverage which you didn’t have

  “Dad! We’re happy about this. A little (Y/N) running around. How cute right?”

  “It’s not just about cute, Auston. Smarten up, boy,” he yelled and you looked down at your lap, tearing your hand from Auston’s, “you are too young to have a baby. It’s not a fish or a hamster…”

  “Obviously, we know that…” Auston tried but Brian continued

  “Babies take a lot of work. Children take a lot of work. You have to be there for them. You have to guide them. They need both of their parents, not just one and you can’t just pass them off onto their grandparents. Onto me and your mother because, god knows, (Y/N)’s parents won’t get involved” he yelled over the table and when you saw Auston open his mouth to yell back, you put your hand on his thigh and squeezed before he could say anything.

  “I’m sorry,” you started softly, “the truth is, I’m terrified. I was terrified when I told Auston. I was so terrified when I found out that I almost terminated the pregnancy without telling Auston about it. And you’re right, my parents wouldn’t get involved. I haven’t spoken to them in years. They don’t like the choices i’ve made in my life. They believe it should’ve gone a much different way and I know that telling them I’m pregnant without being married or even engaged would give them too much ammunition to try and control my life again, the way they did when I was a teenager. But you’re wrong if you think I’d pass my child off to their grandparents. I’m 26 years old, I’m not 16. I know that children and babies take work but I’m more responsible than I look. The career thing, the future thing, they won’t stop. They won’t be ruined. We can figure it out. I believe in us. I didn’t mean to cause any problems, I’m truly sorry if this has caused any problems, honestly, I, we, thought you should know. I love your son and I will love his child with everything I have. Our child will love you, they will hear wonderful stories about you if you choose not to be involved in their life so they understand how much you love them.” You finished, looking back and forth between Ema and Brian with quick glances at Auston, whose eyes never left his parents as his jaw tensed

  “Mija,” Ema finally spoke, clearing her throat, “I apologize if we’ve hurt your feelings. It wasn’t our intention. Brian and I are concerned, that’s all. You two are so young and pregnancy is so trying and with Auston gone so frequently and us so far away, what happens if something were to happen?”

  “Now, hold on, Ema,” Brian interjected, “that’s not what I was concerned about. Though it is something to consider” Ema raised her finger to stop him

  “I would love a grandchild. Of course, this is not ideal but I see the love you have for my son and the love he has for you. I believe that there will be so much love for that child that it won’t know what to do with it all. But... are you prepared?”

  “Absolutely not” you giggled and a tear built up in the corner of your eye

  “Let me help with that. As much as i can. As much as you need, Mija, we are here for you. For both of you,” she reached over to grab both you and Auston’s hand and, when you looked over at Auston, you noticed his jaw had relaxed and a small smile played on his lips, “Mijo, I am so proud of you, you know that? I know you will be an amazing father. And if you ever decide to get married, I know you’ll make an amazing husband” she smiled and he finally let out a laugh but Brian was still unimpressed, so Ema hit his shoulder to get him to lighten up

  “They shouldn’t be having a baby, Ema, I’m sorry I can’t endorse this”

  “Enough Brian. This is your son. His girlfriend is pregnant. It’s not ideal, I said that. But we love them both. And we will love their child.” There was finality in her voice and Brian seemed to obey it, even offering a small smile at the end of dinner when you told them you were going to catch an Über and head back to your apartment.

  “You don’t have to go back to your place, come back with us. Stay with me…” Auston pleaded

  “I think I should give everyone some space…” you whispered and kissed his cheek as your Über pulled up, “I love you.” He repeated the words back to you, pressing a kiss to your lips before letting you go, the three of them waving to you as you went further down the street. You knew the conversation was going to be stressful and tense but you weren’t expecting it to be that tense.

  Maybe you shouldn’t have played Monopoly before you left the house...

[softlyjiminie]

bittersweet baby girl | p.j.m

⇢ pairing(s): sugar daddy!park jimin x sugar baby!reader.

⇢ word count: 1.7K. (my shortest fic ever !)

⇢ rating: 15+, mature.

⇢ genre: fluff, angst, smut, sugar daddy!au.

⇢ summary: he gave you everything you could ever wish for; money, diamonds, luxuries but little did he know, that your only wish, was for him to love you,like you loved him.

⇢ warning(s): please read! swearing, age gap (legal) mentions of sex, sugar daddy-sugar baby relationship.

⇢ author’s note(s): here’s a lil somethin somethin i whipped up after seeing an insta post where jimin looked like the softest fuckin sugar daddy ever. ( update: this fic has been slightly edited and updates as of 2020 )

when you woke up, the bright light reaching just past the protection of your eyelids, you’d already expected him to be gone. which he was, and yet, the sheets where he’d laid with you last night until recently were still warm with traces of his familiar scent. a cotton shirt lay in his place, like it usually did, waiting to be filled out by your smaller-than-his frame. your urge to touch the crisp white button up was fulfilled when you held it in your grasp, pulling the fabric up to your nose to take in that fresh, flowery scent.

lavender.

the door to his office groaned with movement when you slipped in, your bare feet padding against the cold and smooth marble floor. the room was built high with bookcases of old literature he’d inherited from his father ( and would probably never read ), a modern flare of monochrome colours and glass panelled windows filling out the rest of the space. his desk was made of the prettiest, shatter proof crystal and he sat at it now, typing away at whatever boring business report he had to write.

the man barely glanced at your half naked form, when he greeted you, the wisps of a smile resting on his plump lips. “morning babygirl, didn’t think i’d see you today.” jimin hummed, fingers earnestly meeting keys so quickly that your mind flashed back to snippets of the previous night.

you closed the door behind you, inching into the office as you placed with loose threads on his button down. “you don’t usually let me sleep in,” came your quiet response, as you stuck to the edge of the room. jimin’s dark eyes flickered up for a second, and you could see the shift in his expression at the sight of your bare legs and partly exposed chest from underneath his shirt.

“i figured that after last night you’d need a little rest.”

cheeky. you thought to yourself with a giggle as you tiptoed the rest of the way over to his glass desk, arms curling around the length of his shoulders. “daddy...” you sang playfully, sliding into Jimin’s lap with an innocent smile. you trailed your fingers down to his tie whilst you adjusted yourself on the meat of his thigh, the older man paused his typing for a second to give you a warning glance before he returned to his previous ministrations, leaving you back to your teasing. “wanna play...”

“YN baby, daddy’s got work to do, can you wait an hour?” jimin sighed, using one hand to steady you in his lap. “please?”

you pouted with a shake of your head, rolling your hips over his thigh before licking a long stripe from his jaw to his ear, jimin shuddered under your touch, the hand that wasn’t on your back coming up to sift through his platinum hair. “no daddy, wanna play now...” was your whiney response.

tired of your teasing, jimin gave you a firm pat to the ass, smirking as you whimpered for him. “i said later baby.”

“fine.” you huffed, settling in his lap so that your back was rested against the firm of his chest. you pushed your lips into a pout as you watched him work, feeling his arms manoeuvre around you as he typed and tapped away. a comfortable silence tingled within the air, allowing your mind to slip away. sometimes, when you thought about it, you couldn’t get over how lucky you were to have jimin, it seemed like not long ago that you were a second year university student, broke off her ass who drank every night to wash the worries away.

one night in particular you struck gold, your friends cheering you on as you swished and swayed over to jimin who had been checking you out from across the bar. you tipsily ( not drunkly ) flashed him a smile, and it wasn’t long before you were stumbling out of the club, names on each other’s lips for the very first time.

the next day you’d woken up, sore but content, a white cotton shirt next to you in an unfamiliar bed, a note at your side apologising for a disappearance and offering you breakfast with a change of clothes. you strolled out of uni later that day, the shirt tucked into a cute little plaid skirt that you’d picked out as you headed home to your dorm. your ears picked up on the whispers of others as an expensive looking car rolled up beside you.

“you’re wearing my shirt” jimin had smirked, gauging your flushed expression.

you’d blinked. “w-what what... what’re you doing here?”

“i’m here to pick you up sweetheart, it’s part of our deal, or do you not remember?” came his response, his voice lined with velvet, his eyes with molten chocolate. you shook your head no,  uneasy since it wasn’t everyday that your Sunday night hook up cane to pick you up from school. “no? then get in, angel.”

“and why would i trust you?”

“you slept with me even after only knowing my name, i think you can trust me on this, sweetheart.”

and you did, and luckily he didn’t murder you in the back seat of his sexy black car whilst he explained to you the whole sugar baby, sugar daddy ordeal he had apparently proposed to you the night before. you already knew from before he had finished talking that you were down for the deal. it would help you pay off your student loans and you’d have someone to keep you entertained. you, at the time, had only hoped you weren’t going to fall for him, you didn’t want to see yourself as a failed cliche of fanfiction writing.

and yet here you were a year later in your third year of uni, failing in love with a man with five more years of life between you. your sugar daddy. someone you had promised yourself not to fall for. your gaze slowly trailed up from his hand that was resting, non sexually, on your thigh to his jawline and the veins in his neck to the crescent moon of his eyes, the plushness of his lips and the cute slope of his nose. your eyes met for a second, and jimin, through the curtain of his almost silver hair, offered you a smile, pressing a kiss to the seam of your lips before he went back to work. your heart fluttered and you sighed.

“babygirl, if you’re about to start whining again, i’ll send you back into those dorms”. jimin teased, ears picking up on your quiet sigh, you swivelled in his lap a bored expression on your face which made him chuckle. “I'm serious.”

you poked his nose. “but i didn’t do anything!” you sassed, enjoying his toothy smirk when he glanced down at you again with soft mocha eyes. “you’d never send me back there, don’t you remember those words? ‘no babygirl of mine is staying in a dump like this.’” you mocked him, earning a nip to the ear.

“I remember.” the man confirmed with a chuckle, beginning to save some of his files and download new ones on his computer. the silence swept between you again, but this time you were fidgety, you couldn’t hold in your feelings for much longer. not when you had days like this, domestic, soft days, where he took care of you even more than he usually did. where it felt like he loved you in the same way that you loved him.

you turned to face him again, but this time he didn’t look. With dainty fingertips, you leaned up and brushed the hair out of his eyes, locking with your own. “d-daddy i- jimin,“ you whispered, anxiety catching in your chest, jimin’s warm hues flooded with worry as he cupped your hand that lay against his cheek. “i-i think i love you-“

jimin’s tense shoulders dropped at your words, his smile making you dizzy as he kissed your lips once more. “don’t you mean you love me for the sex? or is it my money?” he laughed, eyes closing so he missed the disappointment on your face.

“jimin...I'm serious.” you whispered, looking down at your fingers. you flinched when his laughter stopped, your heart stopping with it as he murmured your name in concern. you rarely called jimin by his first name, usually deciding between minnie and daddy, so when you did he knew that you meant your words.

“YN...baby, you don’t mean that-“

“no, jimin please just hear me out.” you asked in a silent plea, fingers shaking at what you were about to say. “please don’t try to talk me out of this, or change my mind. i mean it when i say i love you, i know it sounds stupid and it wasn’t part of the deal but-“ you pause when your words catch in your throat and your heart aches for him to reach out and touch you reassuringly like he usually would.

he doesn’t. jimin’s body is tense underneath you, his breath laboured as if he’s holding it in. he’s scared, this powerful, expensive man is scared and that makes it worse for you. “you’re more than just the money and sex to me, you have been for a long time and I was just afraid to admit it. these moments with you, when you hold me and take care of me, they make me feel loved. and i know that probably wasn’t your intention, but please don’t shut me out when i say that i love you.” you finish with glistening eyes, fingers full of jimin’s freshly pressed shirt, and when you look at him, there is no warm smile, no whisper of baby, angel or babygirl.

his hazelnut eyes, warm as they were, now lacked the spark that drew you too him, that held you under love’s ocean. they were void, cold, collected. he didn’t love you, he never did. none of those moments mattered to him like they did to you.

love was just as bittersweet as you had thought, and you wished you never felt it after all.

[parkerspicedlatte]

Just in Time (Soulmate AU) Revisited

Lovely Moodboard Provided by: @parkerpuffwrites

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairings: Harrison Osterfield x Reader, Tom Holland x Bestfriend (OC)

AU: SOULMATE AU CAN I GET A HOLLA!

Warnings: None, my poor excuse for writing!

Authors note: Okay i have never written a Haz fic, infact i have only ever written two fics ever that were of real people, so yeah.... Also i was originally going to do this with Tom and bestfriend!Harrison but the people have spoken so now we have a Haz fic yay!

Eight minutes and forty seconds left, it felt like an eternity. You would meet your soulmate in less than ten minutes and you were freaking out.

Beside you stood your best friend, your closest friend in the entire universe, who was in the same boat as you, but she was one hundred percent calm. Anne’s timer was set to exactly twenty seconds before yours yet she wasn’t even breaking a sweat.

That’s pretty much how the two of you had become friends actually. Sixth grade, Anne was new in your school and you two sat next to each other in class. It was less than a week before she noticed that your soulmate timer was less than a minute behind hers. She then tried to convince you that you two were meant to meet your soulmates together. After a while you two quickly built an impenetrable bond and the rest is history. Now here you are, two years after high school, sitting in an airport as you see her older brother and his new wife off, waiting to meet your matches, literally.

“Where do you think they’re coming from?” she asked calmly, as if she were asking what the forecast for the afternoon was going to be.

“What?” You turned to look at her with a questioning expression.

“Well I was just thinking, we’re supposed to meet them in less than ten minutes, here in an airport,” explained Anne, “So I’m thinking they’re either coming or going, my bets are on coming. So where do you think they’re coming from?”

“Oh goodness, I don’t know. I hadn’t even thought of that.” You mentally face palmed for not having put the scenario together. “Do the gates tell where the planes are coming from?”

“Not these ones,” she said squinting at the digital signs above the airport doors. You let your thoughts wander while Anne looked around the airport.

What if Anne is only half right? It makes sense that they’re going to be here before we get out of here so maybe they’re catching a plane? What if we only get five minutes with them before they have to leave for who knows how long? What if they want me to move with them to a different country? What if they don’t even speak English?

“Three minutes can you believe it?” Anne sighed.

You looked down at your timer to see what was left.

Two minutes fifty seven. Two minutes fifty six. Two minutes fif-

“We’re going to meet them in three minutes,” she said to no one in particular.

“We’re going to meet them in less than three minutes and you aren’t freaking out,” you said in disbelief. “You couldn't look more calm than if you were standing in line at Starbucks.”

“Believe me,” she huffed, “I’m freaking out on the inside.”

Before you could reply, a new flock of people emerged from the baggage claim and made their way towards the cafeteria that you and Anne were currently sitting in.

“Eye’s open they could be in that group,” she said to you. Her eyes begin to scan through the new crowd of people that walked around the coolers of sandwiches and drinks while you watched the people who began to claim tables for themselves or their families.

You smiled to yourself at the sight of a young family of two parents and their three children, the children were all likely under the age of six. The little boy was sitting up on his knees shoving a sandwich in his mouth while his little sister played with a toy on the table top. The father held the baby wearing a green sweater as the mother picked up the little girl and set her on her lap to help her get most of her food into her mouth rather than the table.

Your mind again wandered to the world of unanswered questions.

Would your soulmate want children? Do they even like children? What if they wanted far more than you thought you could handle?

Shaking your head you relieved yourself of the unnecessary questions, deciding to leave them for another day.

One minute left.

That meant Anne only had forty seconds left. You glanced over at her to see the look of nervousness set over her face. The look disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. Most people wouldn’t have even caught that but you could read her like a book, and in that moment of vulnerability, you saw her fear.

Looking away your eye caught those belonging to a curly haired brunet who, unlike Anne, showed every ounce of fear he was feeling.

What would he have to be scared of-?

“Anne, to your right.”

Her head whipped around faster than a lambs tail, nearly slapping you in the face with her pony tail. Anne was about to apologise but in a split second she froze. She had seen the curly haired boy.

Beep. The timer sounded on her wrist and broke off automatically. It fell to the table you were sitting at but she didn’t even flinch. The timer from the boy’s wrist fell off at the exact same time clattering to the floor catching the attention of the taller blond boy beside him. The blond's eyes went wide when he saw the timer on the ground.

He brought his own wrist up to his line of vision and his jaw dropped. He thought he still had a few minutes. The blond looked up at his friend then across to see who he was starring at, but he didn’t make it that far. His eyes caught those of a girl with y/h/c and y/e/c sitting at a table starring right back at him.

At that moment he felt the weight of the timer fall easily off of his wrist. Unlike Tom, Harrison reacted quickly and caught the timer, though he didn’t break eye contact with the y/h/c girl. Somehow he found himself being drawn to the girl, quite literally. He was subconsciously walking straight towards her table with Tom hot on his heels. The girl and her friend both rose from their seats and met the boys halfway.

At the last second you froze and so did your soulmate. Anne and her soulmate however skipped the introductions and dove right into each other’s arms in a vice tight hug.

“Hi.” The blond was the first to speak up. Your heart did a back flip then a front flip and basically any flip imaginable. It felt like your heart was practising gymnastics for the Olympics, jumping up into your throat and then down to the pits of your stomach.

“Hi,” you replied timidly while tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“So um, I’m pretty sure that you’re my soulmate, actually I’m quite certain that you are,” he told you nervously, his accent that carried his words was like milk and honey, the lost note of a long forgotten melody. “My name’s Harrison,” he smiled softly.

You sucked in a shaky breath still not believing that this beautiful person in front of you was your soulmate.

“Hi, um you’re- I’m you’re, you’re my-” You tried to get the words out but you were nearly chocking on them as they tried to escape your throat.

“Hey it’s alright.” Harrison stepped forward hesitantly bringing his arms around your frame, resting his chin on atop of your head. “You don’t need to say anything,” he whispered running one of his hands up and down your back comfortably. “We’ve got forever, no need to say anything right now.”

You slowly brought your face away from his chest to look up at him; he was already smiling down at you with stars in his beautiful blue eyes. He placed a small, chaste kiss to your forehead then to your nose making you smile at him softly. One of his arms let go of you momentarily to tuck the rogue piece of hair back behind your ear.

This was your soulmate. The person who you had known less than two minutes already had you in their arms, placing delicate kisses to your face, this person who already looked at you like you hung all the moon and stars in the sky.

Without breaking eye contact you brought one of your hands up to cup the side of Harrison’s face, stroking your thumb lightly over his cheekbone. His smile grew wider at your actions. He bit his bottom lip in attempt to somewhat control his grin.

Tentatively he ducked his head down slightly, bringing it a little closer to yours. He held it there to see how you would react. Your eyes flicked down to his lips by  reflex. Letting the moment take you with it, you closed your eyes and breathed in, then, leaned forward to close the gap, meeting Harrison halfway once again.

For that moment the world slowed down, all you could feel were Harrison’s lips against yours, exchanging kisses. His hand that crept around to cup your own cheek wasn’t even noticed by either of you. You were both lost in the moment, the moment of bliss, the moment where everything was perfect. You had found each other safe and sound.

The sound of applause broke you and Harrison out of your trance as the strangers around you realised what was happening between the two couples. You looked over to see Anne and her curly haired soulmate in a similar position save for the fact that he was holding Anne in the air with her legs popped, like a silly romantic movie. They looked at each other and burst into laughter, typical for Anne. You could tell that those two were going to get along perfectly, not that you had any doubts.

The chest you were still being held against rumbled as Harrison chuckled at his friend and Anne. You glanced up at him while he looked off.

“Y/n.”

“Hmm?” Harrison looked back down at you with an expression you wished you could capture and hang from the tallest building in the world.

“My name is y/n,” you told him finally.

This time his smile took over his face, going all the way up to the sparkle in his eyes.

“Well y/n. It’s absolutely lovely to meet you. Not to sound too cheesy but I’ve been waiting decades for you, love. You know, Tom and I were getting a little worried because our plane was actually a bit late but it seems that we got here just in time.

Thanks for reading xx Reetz :D

[2019Update:] This has been revisited and updated/reedited and ohhh man I can’t believe that I posted this with as many grammatical mistakes as there were. Please don’t let me do this!!!!!!