#yes that’s Jesse tuck in a skirt

[measuresderepo]

[romanoffsbish]

A Chance Encounter: So This is Love?

Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

Unwanted Attention (Previous)

Warnings: Drunk/Mean Ex(Past);Cheating, Grief(As always), Jealousy(Toddler), Letting Go(Is Hard), Death!!(Flashback)

Smut: Thigh Riding (R), Oral (R), Double-Sided (cum-filled) Strap (R/S), Face Riding (S), Daddy (S)/Good Girl (R), Breeding, Choking, Praising, Light Degrading.

18+ | Minors DNI ‼️

———————————————————

Scarlett waves her hand in front of their face, Jess just stares back at her with a melancholy expression on their face, because they know their hearts answer would change nothing, because they know your heart now resides in totality with the actress, but it doesn't change the broken feeling as they sink into the chair. Your shared life flashes before their eyes as they momentarily squeeze their eyes shut; a mix of their highest highs, and lowest lows.

—————

•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•

Jess was very nervous, palms sweating, hands wringing, and heart skipping a beat level of nervous as they waited for you to finally come out of the bathroom. The moment you opened the door it was as if all the air in their lungs was gone once they took in your current look.

You had settled on a low cut white polo shirt, tucked into a short, deliciously form fitting red skirt, with a long black cardigan with pockets to hold all of your things thrown over it. Every simple piece served a purpose, and it was working to catch the eye of your lover. Your knowing giggle however awakened them from their stupor, meeting your smirk with a goofy smile of their own, and a hopeful hand extended out your way.

Jess sighs as they pull you flush against them, "You look beautiful honey...," lips gently land atop of yours, and you instantly melt against your partner, hands gripping the collar of their shirt to keep them put. They smirk into the kiss at your seductive prowess, and if not for their plans they'd have allowed themselves to fall into you, but they pull back to get a glimpse into your eyes, taking note of your blown out pupils, and chuckling at the state they've put you in.

Their previous nerves for what's to come had all but faded, and the velvet box no longer felt like it was burning a hole through their suit. They dragged your confused form out of the front door, and through the town on the most romantic walk down memory lane, and so when they brought you back to NYU, where it all began—you knew what was coming, and you were quick to say yes.

——

Jess was in the middle of a business meeting when they got the call, "Honey, I'll get to the hospital in no time, promise," they shouted across the line while fumbling around their office so could change into their emergency set of street clothes.

Within a matter of thirty minutes they're frantically running into the hospital where they're immediately whisked away to your room, a familiar nurse passing them a cup of ice chips with a playful wink before shoving them into your door and literally running off. Jess rushes into the room, "Y/N, baby, I'm here, I made it!," their hands going to cup your cheeks.

"No, don't you dare touch me you vile demon! Find nurse Helen, and get me my ice chips!"

Jess's eyes widened at your sudden outburst, their beautiful, sweet as can be wife is angry, and it took everything in them not to laugh. Never in their wildest dreams did they ever think you'd be able to run off your equally as sweet hospital staff, but just like you always do, you continue to shock them.

Cautiously they raise the glass, then with a plastic spoon they shovel a few melting slivers into your parched mouth, thumping heart settling at the pleased sigh you release.

"Better?"

Your closed eyes shoot open, fixing your truly terrifying glare upon your spouse, and you find yourself enjoying the way they squirm.

"I'll be better when your son makes his exit, and stops using my insides as a fucking punching bag, little shit takes after you."

Jess flushes at your dirty innuendo, "Oh baby, our precious boy means you no harm, also you never really seem to complain in the moment with me so pipe down and stop scaring off the staff, because I know nothing about the birth process to help you, and also because you're turning me on."

As you roll your eyes at them, a rather snarky comment on the tip of your tongue you are interrupted as a new wave of contractions hit.

"Fuck! Quick! Tell them I want the drugs!"

"But, you told me no drugs, that no matter how much you beg—."

...

"Okay! I'm going!"

After the epidural the process is a lot calmer, your nurses weren't hiding, and for the most part you're in and out of a napping state up until you're ready to push the little sucker out.

"Baby, it's time..."

"You do it..."

Jess chuckles, "Honey, that's impossible, you need to push now, he's ready.," their fingers delicately move across your face, pushing the hair from your sticky forehead, and admiring the entirety of your combined features, praying that Josh comes out with even just an ounce of your never ending well of beauty.

The pressure on their hand brings them back, and their attention becomes laser focused on your pained face, then to the end of the bed, the anticipation bubbling from within them almost painful. Then after a long hours wait the hearty laughter they release at the sounds of your son's wailing spurs on the floodgates for you. Jess was beyond preoccupied with cutting the cord to see the mess that had become of you; granted they were not fairing much better when they were met with the raw, incomprehensible feelings seeing your son for the first time ignited.

The tiny baby was haphazardly wiped down, then placed into a loose fitting blanket before being passed to Jess who immediately brought him up to you for the necessary introduction.

You sob once he's settled on your chest, "Mama's perfect little baby boy...," the intense feeling of your heart cracking right open is almost enough to send you into hysterics, but you'd hate to disturb the peaceful baby.

"Joshua..."

Your eyes shine with another set of tears, the name of your choosing winning out, and you sigh in relief that Jess's top choice of Hunter was long forgotten.

"Joshua Ryan Y/L/N-Valdez." You add, finishing out the process with a peck to his nose, then watching as the hospital personnel whisk him away for all his needs.

Jess watches as you sleep, heart brimming with gratitude for your bodies sacrifice, "You did good honey, you're just so perfect...," eyes then falling to the sleeping infant.

"He's perfect..."

"Yeah, he is..." They concur, leaning into the bassinet, and lifting him up to allow your awakened form the skin-to-skin you had adamantly requested take place, placing a tender kiss to your lips, then his forehead, they lean back and watch you take to motherhood so naturally, and they just pray parenthood is as easy for them.

——

Jess came barreling into the ER with suitcases in hand, having only just landed from their emergent flight home. They'd been on a work retreat with their entire team, a trust building exercise, all irrelevant now though that they received your many calls, and eventually listened to your set of panicked voicemails.

"My son's been in an accident—Joshua Valdez! I'm Jess Valdez, my wife Y/N should already be here, please, can you take me to them?"

The front desk nurses face is a bit too expressive for their liking, wearing the sympathetic sadness on her face as she calls security over to escort them to pediatric unit. Jess enters the room, it's dark as it's after ten; soft snores alert them to the cot which Angie's lying on, tiny hand holding onto her brothers, and from there Jess's eyes travel up the arm to see the blank expression on your son's face.

It was hard to understand you, but it was a long flight so they just listened to your shaky voice repeatedly telling them what happened. Josh was playing softball at school for that day's PE activity. A group of seven year olds were on a field, a handful of them practicing with the bats in their groups, and your son was running around like the carefree boy that he was when a little girl practiced her swing.

The metal bat—that they still can't understand why they were using—made contact with the side of Joshua's head which would explain the bruise now taking over the side of his face. Your son's slender body spun around before he fell on his back, according to the teachers he was hyperventilating, screaming out your titles interchangeably with his eyes frozen open. His shouts had apparently faded into incoherent slurs right before he lost his last grasp to consciousness on the gurney.

Epidural Hematoma, that's all you said, the calls stopped after that, and Jess was left in the dark for almost the entire flight home.

Jess's trance is broken away from his face when the bathroom door opens, a dim light illuminating your defeated face, and it's then that their tears finally start to fall, loud sobs that you quickly hinder as you pull their face into your shirt for the sake of your daughter. Slowly you guide them over to the couch, holding them until they slump against you, leaving you alone once more with the haunting knowledge that is your son's fate.

That night you don't sleep, but that doesn't exactly mean your conscious either, because come morning a nurse is hovering over you and Jess, her hand waving in front of your open eyes, but she receives no response, she's about to tap Jess awake but your daughters sudden whimpers shock you both from your horrifying reverie.

"Good Morning Mrs. Valdez, have you had a chance to make your decision?"

You want to scoff, to reach out and slap this persistent woman, but you know it's the grief; this woman didn't kill your son, she's just doing her job, and she's been kind throughout. No one really killed Joshua, it was just an unfortunate, freak accident, and it's now bled into the worst nightmare of your life.

Jess lifts their head from your shoulder to look to you for clarity, "What decision?," their eyes unfocused, and their grip on you tightening in daunting anticipation.

"Oh, please do excuse me, I'll be back later..." The nurse squeaks in embarrassment as she rushes out, leaving the two sets of paperwork on the table for you two to discuss.

Termination of Life Sustaining Care

Long-Term Facility Care

Jess's eyes dart over the papers, jumping from your lap they pace the room, and your lap is once again filled by a confused little girl.

"Mama? Deda? Why is Josh not up yet? I want to pway now."

Jess stops pacing at your daughters words, then they settle beside the both of you to cup your daughters cheeks, and before you could stop them, they tell her the truth in a not so subtle way, and you have to stop yourself from scolding them.

"Angelina, Joshua's really hurt, and he's not going to wake up."

Her lips trembles as she looks to you, "Like gwamma?," then she flings herself into you when you nod, burying her face in your chest as her body wracks with heartbreaking sobs.

Jess returns to pacing, leaving you to console the four year old while they process the news. Joshua's brain dead, no signs of any activity remain, and without the machines he wouldn't last more than an hour. That's what the cut and dry clinical paperwork says, and the doc confirmed last night when you continued to repeatedly ask the question in a state of shock.

"Wh-what are we going to do Y/N/N?"

"I-I don't know, I really don't want to say goodbye, but that's selfish isn't it?"

"I don't want to let him go..."

Angelina shifts in your hold, "Let it go, just like Elsa says?," tired mumbles fall from her lips as she snuggles that much closer.

"Yeah baby,  just like Elsa says..."

After hours of just sitting by his bedside, watching the mechanical rise and fall of his chest, and allowing a desperate Angie to snuggle with him you signed the paperwork. It moved so fast after that, they explained what was going to happen in detail, not wanting to leave you out of the loop, and you shifted your daughter onto the cot once more.

They removed all the wires first, then shut off the monitors to hedge off the loud noises. They continued to shift around, until all that was left to do was to remove him from the vent.

"Wait..." Jess reaches out their hand to halt the nurse, and she immediately stops, you watch as they take a tentative step forward, tenderly kissing your sons face, and savoring this final moment.

Once they pull back, they relinquish the nurse with a nod; she pulls the tube from his throat, you observe the way that his chapped lips reconnect, and his chest falls dramatically. The nurse cracks an apologetic smile at you before slipping out of the room, and you move forward to scoop your son up, pulling him into your chest, swaying around the room with him, whispering against the side of his head, "It's okay my sweet baby boy, you can go now, we're all going to be okay, I promise."

Jess steps in front of you, arms wrapping around and helping you to support his weight as they choose to speak next, "Mama's right mi primer amor, you're going to get your wings, and fly high above us, protecting us like usual. Until we meet again baby boy..."

His last breath comes only minutes later, the last of the life drains from his skin, the final puff cascading over your face and the tears you'd held back all morning finally fall at the sensation, only steadily increasing as Jess pulls away to grabs their belongings.

"I-I love you, but I can't be here right now.."

Jess rushes off to the pub—you're sure of it, leaving you to console your daughter while flipping through the provided pamphlets of tiny coffins that should never even be made to exist, eyes slamming shut when they roll your son out of the room, successfully taking half of your heart with them as they did.

——

The clock strikes twelve, the keys jangle in the door like clockwork, and you prepare yourself for a continued fight, but the look on their face tells you they intend to keep you up all night. Something in you finally breaks, "Jess! No! I can't do this another night, get out, get the fuck out," and their once smirking face falls when they see you hurriedly approaching.

With a refreshed wave of fresh hot tears trailing down your cheeks, and hands pressed firmly against your spouse's chest you worked to shove them out, but their strength when drunk knew no bounds so they gripped you by your arms, and shoved you until your back hit the narrow wall by the staircase, and they were too far gone to see the fear in your eyes.

"No! This is my fucking house too Y/N!" They spit, your nose hairs burning at the putrid smell of whisky mixed with something tropical on their breath, and your face lightly sticky as it's sprinkled with the remnants.  

"Leave now, I don't need Angie seeing you like this, better yet I don't wish to see you at all!"

"Whatever the case may be I'm not leaving, you can't fucking make me, it was just a silly fight, it'll all blow over come morning."

"No, Jess, it won't. You're never home at this point anyways so why the fuck would it be any different? Go and fuck your side piece for all I care, either way the divorce is happening so suck it up buttercup."

Jess's face dropped, they really thought they were being inconspicuous this whole time. Alcoholism will do that to you too, leave you thinking you're an ultra spy, but really you're like a sneaky kid in a candy store that's just leaving behind a trail of damning evidence. Like the lipstick stained collared shirts you wash for them, or the way they lay down beside you in your marital bed reeking of their assistant's cheap ass perfume, or those long nights that bled into the following ones without a word and their shared location pinging the Motel 6 up the street. 

"This is your fault you know..."

You scoff, "I'm sorry?," pushing them away as harshly as you can and causing them to stumble a bit, nearly falling onto their ass.

"You heard me!! If you had just gone to school that day... If you had gone he'd still be here!"

"Oh, so if I had stopped the freak accident from happening you would've been faithful? That's what you're fucking going with Jess? Our marriage is on the line here and you throw our son's tragic death in my face as if it's somehow my fault."

Their head was in absolute scrambles, words that plagued their psyche daily had come out against their greater judgement, but in their unhinged whiskey fog they just let them fly. They didn't mean it, it was just one of those fairytale thoughts that if the events of the day had been different, then maybe the outcome would have been too.

"I've cleaned up after you for months now, kept Angie safe from the hell that is your new normal, all the while helping her process her own confusing grief, but I'm done now. You're a grown up Jess, your messes are your own, and I'm sure if you flash that crooked smile at Susanna she'll open her door just as fast as she does her legs for you, now get the fuck out before Angie is disturbed."

The sniffles to your right show you've spoken too soon, "Mama? Deda?," Jess's disoriented body is then stumbling back when you brush right passed them to get to your distraught daughter on the staircase.

"You know what, sleep on the couch tonight, but tomorrow I want you and your things out. I just don't have any fight left Jess, and if any part of you still loves me you'll respect that."

Jess watches on in stunned silence as you make your way up the stairs, their heart held together by strings quick to begin unraveling. They collapse onto their knees, strangled sobs fall from their lips as they realize all that they've done to ruin this perfect family, and knowing deep down it started far before Joshua's tragic demise.

They pathetically crawled to the couch, pulling the Pokémon blanket down to cover their body as they fall into a restless nights sleep, with the dream to fix all of this come morning, but the suppressed knowledge to apprise them that it's all just a fruitless fantasy.

•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~•-•~~~~~~~~

Scarlett owed them nothing here, especially not after all the hell they've put the both of you through, so once the uneasy looking blonde moved to speak again they knew it was their obligation to give their blessing, to set you free.

"Look, Jess, I'd no intention of harming you by asking this of you, but it's important to me that I seek out your blessing for the sake of your daughter. Angie means just as much to me as Y/N does, I want you to know that, but I'm also not trying to take any role that belongs to you. They mean the world to me, and I promise you that they're safe with me."

"My blessing, though unnecessary here, is all yours to run with Scarlett. Y/N's never been happier than she is when she's with you, and it's taken me awhile to accept that, but it's true. She'll forever be my first love, and I'll cherish that, but I know it's time for me to let go."

They pause for a moment, taking in a deep breath before straightening up in their seat, eyes locked with the green pair across the table, with their hands folded on the table.

"Angie's already brought you up to me as being her 'mommy' one day, and with how excited she was it masked over the hurt and fear of inadequacy it also drummed up inside of me. You've got every right to take up this space you rightfully fit into though, and I bless the title as well, because Angie wouldn't assign it lightly."

Scarlett's gentle, completely genuine smile settled the final pang of dread residing within the pit of their stomach, setting them free too.

"So, thank you for considering me worth your time, and I'd like to formally apologize for my previous actions and any trouble it might've cause you."

Scarlett's hands, much to Jess's shock, settles atop of theirs in an attempt to bridge the metaphorical gap, the softness in her eyes nearly causes them to breakdown, but they manage to offer her a sad smile instead.

"Thank you Jess, I truly appreciate it, but the past holds no bearings for me going forward. Within a weeks time I'd already forgiven you for the trouble you caused us in your time of unrelenting pain, so all is forgiven. I look forward to getting to know you as we move forward, and maybe we'll even be friends."

"I'm counting on it Johansson."

Scarlett nods lightly, then leaves within the same breath, completely at peace, and more so absolutely giddy with what's to come.

——

Angie and Riley had been bouncing off the walls all day, completely besides themselves with anticipation for the school's end of the year carnival. They'd even told you and Scar that they could totally handle getting ready on their own, and you two shared an amused bout of eye contact before giving them the go ahead.

"Angel, are you guys ready to go?"

"Almost mama!!!"

Meanwhile you're feeling the exact opposite; fearful of the potentially angry tiny people who expected you to return ages ago, a handful already telling Scarlett just how upset they were with your absence, and tonight's the night you will be bravely facing them. Scarlett finds you staring at the ceiling in silent hysterics.

"Honey, you're going to be fine, they were happy when I said you'd be there..."

"That's what they say, but just you wait and see, they're going to kill me... I'm far too pretty to go out like that, don't you think?"

Scarlett snorts at your dramatics, hands quick to pull you from the bed, and into her embrace, "Yes honey, you're far too pretty for your own good, now let's go. The kids are getting antsy, and I just know you're going to get a kick at the girls outfits.," and with that implanted idea you're running down the stairs.

—

The moment you arrived on campus the principal pulled you in, "Please, when are you returning? She's lovely, but she's no you.," you hold back a giggle, quietly whispering that it'll be a new start come August, and he sighed, then relinquished you at the confirmation.

The further you walked onto campus, the more the tiny bodies collided with your own, and fortunately for you not a single angry word was thrown at you; only sad eyes, and seemingly never ending stories told by everyone, except little Nathaniel—who was uncharacteristically quiet as he literally hung off of you.

After everyone had dispersed, the excitement of your arrival fading when in comparison to the carnival games, Nathaniel had remained. You looked out to see your girlfriend having a ball, and as if she could feel your stare she looks up to you, wide smile, and thumb raised telling you that they'll be okay for a moment.

You drop to Nathaniel's level, your soft smile breaking him free from his shock, he wraps his tiny arms around your neck and clings to you. The warm tears soak through your shirt, so you nod to his dad, and take him into a classroom.

"Sweet boy, what's going on?"

"I missed you... You said you'd never leave, but you did, just like she did, I was so scared..."

With his heartbreaking confession you just held him close, allowing him the moment to cry it out that you know his father never could. You tell him stories of the time before this, reminding him of his late mother Lily, then once he's calmed you offer him a night of fun.

He held on tightly as you walked to your group, allowing you to put him down once he saw Angie in line for the teacups, and your focus shifted up to Scarlett.

"Everything okay?" ... "Perfectly so.."

Maybe you spoke too soon... "Ow!" You look up to see Carson, the sweetest one year old, had just slapped Nathaniel's arm, all while angrily babbling 'Mama,' before running towards you. Scarlett bites her lip, holding the inappropriate laughter in, "I think he might take after me," she giggles into your ear while you are scolding the baby in your arms with a simple 'no hit' before rolling your eyes and leaving the cackling blonde in your dust.

"Oh come on!!!"

——

School just got out for the Summer, and much to your dissatisfaction Scarlett was leaving this weekend. You'd be completely alone for at least two weeks as your daughter was off to travel to California with her Deda, and Scarlett will be out of the country filming an upcoming project.

So now you were sulking in the kitchen, cooking a farewell breakfast, listening to her playlist and lightly bouncing along to the classic rock when arms suddenly wrap around you from behind, "looks good honey."

Turning the stove down you shift in her hold, leaning your face against her chest, breathing her in while continuing to brood, "Remind me again, when will you be back?," Scarlett's grip tightens, lips land on your temple as she sighs, "End of July, or the first week of August."

Scarlett has never been this reluctant to leave a partner before, part of her hates this newfound feeling, but she knows it's because nothing had ever been so real for her before, even with the years and the kids, none of her exes made her feel like this, always quite the contrast actually. Filming was usually her reprieve from their incessant smothering, but your attention is more a gift than a bother, and she finds herself wondering if retiring at 37 is really that bad...

"I'm going to miss you a lot Scar..."

The quiver in your voice nearly breaks her, so she pulls you back, looking to sees your eyes brimming with tears, and all she wants to do is make you feel better, to forget for a minute.

She reaches over to turn the stove off, throwing a lid atop the pan of breakfast hash, mind far too removed from breakfast now, "Me too honey, so how about you let me leave you with something to remember me by?," her voice dripping with want as she leans into your ear.

She breathlessly chuckles once she feels you nod with an unbridled eagerness, the energy in the room suddenly shifting, and her hands move to hold you by your hips, spinning your bodies so that you're back is pressed against the counter. Lips slam into your own as she subtly slides her knee in between your parted legs, groaning when she feels your bare cunt make contact with the skin of her thigh,"You sneaky little minx, you're fucking dripping.," you whimper in slight embarrassment at the call out, but your painfully in need so you don't dwell long before pleading for more, "Daddy, please... I need you so bad..."

Scarlett's eyes darken when the chosen title slips, her fingers painfully digging into the skin beneath your shirt, "What does daddy's good girl need? Come on honey, use your words.," Your mind is slowly slipping away from you as the pressure inside is painfully building up, you attempt to buck your hips in answer but she holds you still, "Daddy please! I-I need you to fuck me! Use me, just make me feel good...," your pitiful cries are music to the blonde's ears, "There's my good girl.," she starts to move you against her thigh until a rhythm is established, then she relinquishes her hold to give you a chance to take over, and to remove your shirt.

She leans back slightly to admire your pleasure filled face, and bouncing breasts, every single twitch of your features alerting her to just how close you already were, then the way you're soaking her thigh further proves the case, "Daddy.. I'm so close, I need to cum, please.," Seeing you so vulnerable, and completely at her mercy has her dripping with a deep need, "Fucking hell, cum for me honey, let daddy see how good she makes you feel.," Her hands find purchase on your hips again, slamming you down harshly as she flexes the muscles in her thigh to give you that last push over the edge.

Scarlett watches you coming undone, panting mess that you are, and her mind runs wild with all she can do to you in the next few hours, so as you're regulating your breathing she hoists you over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and races up the stairs to toss you onto the bed. Your body barely even finishes bouncing before she's crawling to hover above you, lips gently meeting yours as your fingers play with the hem of her shirt, tugging lightly as your muffled whines of disapproval are swallowed. Scarlett chuckles against your lips as your hands become more persistent, so she pulls back to see your scowling face, "Off.," She stares down at you with expectant eyes, waiting for you to correct yourself., "Please..."

Scarlett beams, allowing you to take her shirt off, then as you do she shimmies down and out of it until she's facing your glistening folds, your natural scent driving her insane, "Daddy's going to get a taste honey.,"she barely warns before she's diving right in to devour you. Expertly swiping her tongue through your folds, teasingly swirling around your entrance right before plunging the wet muscle into you. Slick and drool rolling down her chin as she relentlessly thrusts into you without pause, walls rapidly fluttering around the appendage, it doesn’t take long to have you on the edge.

She peers up at you through hooded eyes to see your hands groping at your breasts, and she feels her walls clenching around nothing as she watches the pleasure rolling across your face. Her arms snaked around to pry your legs back open as they’d began to close around her head, thumb sneaking to press down on your clit, and the intense pleasure of your orgasm rolls right through you, your back arching and body trembling as she continues to lap up your cum. Once she’s satisfied enough she slowly begins to kiss up your body, leaving deep love bites behind as she makes her way back up to hover above you again.

Her lips meet yours for a bruising kiss, tongue slipping passed your parted lips, pulling a moan from you as your taste transfers over. You almost immediately struggle to keep up with her lips though, so she eventually pulls back to give you a reprieve, "Tell me honey, what do you want?," Scarlett smirks as you move to look away from her, a sudden wave of shyness washing over you, but she doesn't miss the way your eyes dart over to that drawer, "Oh, sweetheart, do you want daddy's cock?" Your eyes widen as she sees right through you, "Yes, please I want you to fuck your babies into me daddy.," Scarlett groans, jumping up to grab the harness from the drawer, and the loaded strap she keeps in a mini fridge for moments just like this.

Your eyes are locked on her, taking the chance to tease she steps into the harness, using her nimble fingers she slowly spreads herself open, granting you the blessed sight of her dripping core as she slips the smaller piece into herself, and you watch on in amazement as her pussy greedily sucks it all in. Looking up you see the predatory way in which she gazes upon you, the flirty smirk she wears sending another wave or arousal to your core, leaving you a fidgeting mess for her to laugh at.

“Oh, look at you, my poor baby, dripping all over the sheets, need me to fill you up, huh?,” She taunts while climbing onto the bed, the fat tip of her strap nudging at your folds, hips beginning to roll, but she never really gives you exactly what you need. Working on pushing your outer limits, and as expected you start to roll your hips in search of friction, and begin to forget your manners, “Daddy, I-I need you inside of me!,”

Her fingers are quick to wrap around your throat, lips grazing your ear, “Don’t start, and here I was thinking you were my good girl.,” she taunts while squeezing, effectively cutting your rebuttal off as she fully thrusts inside of you, feeling cocky as your restricted moans lie just beneath her fingertips. “I’m going to fill you to the brim honey, going to fuck my babies so deep inside of you until your belly swells.,” she grunts, the pace she then sets is brutal as she greedily chases her own release.

Wanting to hear you she releases the hold she has over your larynx, a strangled set of moans fly out of you as she continuously hits that spot deep within you that has you seeing stars. You’re almost terrified that she’s going to break her bed with how hard she’s fucking you into it. Scarlett’s walls clench tightly around her end as you moan directly into her ear, with every thrust she feels herself teetering over the brink.

Needing to ground herself she slams her lips to yours as she comes undone, and as her hips stutter she presses down to release the faux load into you, painting your walls with the cold, sticky substance, and sending you into a state of oblivion as your body violently convulses beneath hers, your eyes shut tightly , and a slurry of incoherent babbles passes from your lips to hers as she continues to lazily thrust into you, prolonging the both of your orgasms until she feels you whimpering.

You could tell Scarlett was willing to call it when she climbed off of the bed, but you were desperately wanting a taste of her, “Daddy please sit on my face, I wanna make you feel good, I promise I‘m your good girl..” Scarlett’s heart warms at your eagerness to please her, and her cunt drips in anticipation, so she wastes no time in stepping out of the harness, and slotting her thighs on either side of your face. “Go on then, make daddy cum like I know you know how…,” like only you ever could, it’s not a lie to say you’re the best sex the woman’s ever had, and as your tongue works her over she is screaming your praises without restraint.

Scarlett shakily removes herself from your face, looking down to see your sleepy face drenched in her slick, she almost wants to take a picture. Your eyes briefly flutter open, a sleepy smile enveloping your face, successfully receiving one in return, “Sweetheart, don’t go to sleep, we have to eat, and clean you up.,” Your face falls, a pout forming as tears fill your eye line. Scarlett quickly shushes you with a kiss, then she succumbs to the fact that you’re too tired to understand her, so she leaves you to rest.

Scarlett makes a quick return to the bedroom, settling the plateful of the hash, two forks, and water down on your bedside table before making her way over to your slumped form. Taking a moment to just observe your sleeping face she's instantly smiling at the sight of you, soaking up your beauty and capturing mental images of you to store for her pending hiatus.

After a couple minutes of silent admiration her hands land on your face, cradling your cheeks she leans down to kiss your forehead, nimble fingers then gently rub at your temple to coax you from your deep slumber, "Honey, time to wake up.," Your eyes flutter open, but shut just as fast when the bright light proves to harm your retinas, "Five more minutes..."

Scarlett giggles at your tired mumblings, but she has no time to waste here, "Darling, my flight leaves in five hours, we need need to eat, then have time to shower, and hopefully cuddle a bit before you drop me off at the airport." Sleepily you shake your head, "No, you're not going, they can just recast.," Scarlett leans in to peck away your adorable pout, lips linger as a faint taste of your previous encounter remains, she sighs then after a moment of savoring she's manhandling you into a seated position, and ignoring your squeals of disapproval.

Scarlett lifts a forkful of the reheated food to your parting lips, "Eat up buttercup, you're going to need your strength for when I completely destroy you in the shower.," Scarlett laughs as you choke down the bite, winking at you as she lifts the water bottle to your lips to prevent your untimely death.

—

"Riley will be back July 15th, and Marco will be dropping her off with you so her and Angie have time together. You have John's number, he'll be leaving Carson with you while he works, but if you ever need a day off, you just call him and he'll arrange for a sitter, okay?"

"My love, I will never need a day off from being a mom, I absolutely hate the concept actually."

Scarlett's face brightens at your slip of tongue, leaning forward she throws her arms around your neck and pulls you in for a farewell kiss, pouring out every last bit of love she held for you into it, and pulling away a panting mess. The announcement that her flight will be boarding in less than ten minutes reminds you both that time is truly of the essence.

You lean your forehead to hers, "This is where we say goodbye my love," she lifts your face to peck your lips once more, "I know, I just never imagined it would be this hard," and with that she pulls away, heading off to the Pre-TSA baggage claim with a sad smile, and you turn to make the walk back to your car, as a frown consumes yours. 

——

Scarlett made it home just in time before the new school year had started, and you were thrilled. Plans were laid out, but they didn't happen as most of the time spent together was indoors. She was tired, and everyone had missed her, so it was just an intimate week of cuddling up until today, where you'd all agreed to meet with Jess at the park.

Nerves had held you tightly in a vice grip all morning, so when they exchanged pleasantries, and a hug for a greeting you'd nearly collapsed. Scarlett sat on a bench, and you were quick to follow while Jess ran after the three kids.

"What was that?" Scarlett turned to you with a gentle smile, gauging how she could explain without lying to you, so she settles on a half truth, "I visited them before I left, wanted to make amends while they were still in treatment in case it didn't go over well."

She might be an award winning actress, but you're a mom, so you can see when you're being offered only the kernel of truth. However, whatever she's hiding is likely harmless, and their easy engagement makes your life easier, so you choose to not look the gift horse in its mouth as you lay your head on her shoulder, "That was sweet of you darling, unnecessary, but sweet nonetheless."

Scarlett's once tense shoulders drop with the confirmation that you're not the slightest bit annoyed with her for visiting the ex, she settles her head atop of yours, and joins you in watching the way the kids seem to love Jess. The sight of them so carefree makes your heart burst with joy, a bittersweet reminder of what used to be, and could've been had you two just stuck it out. An overwhelming wave of peace soon envelops you though when Scarlett's hand intertwines with yours, and you're reminded that nothing with Jess was ever this easy, and that your time together served a great purpose, but the end was a necessary beginning for you.

"They're really good with the kids.," Scarlett admits as she observes the way they scooped the tired toddler up, cuddling him close to their chest, and cutting the brewing tantrum off before the first whine could erupt, "Yeah, they always were a child at heart, the broken world around them just kinda tainted their shine, I'm happy to see they finally got it back."

The both of you'd fallen into a comfortable silence, eyes closed as you leaned against one another, "Mama! Mommy! Come play!," Angie shouted, effectively scaring you both from your tranquil moment, and her tiny hands wasted no time as they ripped your connected ones apart, and used an unnatural strength to pull the both of you towards the slides.

"Slow down, we're coming..."

Jess was blissfully swinging with a napping Carson leaning against their chest, Angie had stolen Scarlett away from you to 'sell her food' at her 'store,' and Riley was looking to you pleadingly as she stood by the monkey bars, clearly waiting for you to spot her like you always did back at the school.

"Hiya honey.," Riley stares at you wide eyed, her hands wringing much like her mother's did whenever she was nervous, "Y/N/N... I-I want to try to skip again," she places her tiny hands on the first bar, releasing a shaky breath in anticipation, "I'm right here for you Ri-Ri, you can do this! Just remember to swing quickly when you kick off, one hand in front of the next, and don't slow down."

Riley stares at you for an extra beat as if she's searching for something, and once you smirk at her with a quirked brow in silent challenge to go she returns your silly expression then kicks off rather suddenly. Tiny grunts fall from her as she stretches her arms, and swings her body, keeping the momentum up all the way across.

Reaching the last one she steps onto the ladder, twisting her body back to face you with an accomplished smile before leaping into you unannounced, and you effortlessly catch her, as she squeals, "Look! I did it! Mama, I did it!," your heart skips at her natural slip, "Yeah, my sweetest girl, you did, I'm so proud of you."

Scarlett flashes you a bewildered smile from across the park, she's stood at the side of the playground with raised pockets full of twigs, and bark that you know was meant to replicate a 'burger' and 'fries.' Everything seems to make sense to you in the moment with the tiny arms wrapped around your neck, your blended family existing so harmoniously, and your mind settling on how much you never want this moment to end.

——

It was a beautiful Fall day in the middle of October, and you were sat in your bedroom getting ready for a date with your lover. Scarlett had told you to dress comfortably, since the date would last all the way into the night, and that news had you beyond excited. Solo dates were rare for the both of you between your demanding careers and the children, so to have the entire day is relieving. After an hour of tossing clothes around your room you'd settled upon a black pair of faded ripped jeans, with a sheer red blouse that you decidedly tucked in, with a long sleeved black cardigan that fell below your knees, and boots.

Scarlett had been running around all morning in preparation for this 'date,' because the truth is everything was riding on the effectiveness of her methods, and she's just hopeful it doesn't backfire, because she'd hate to lose your trust. The car was loaded with everything she needed except you, since you were still getting ready. Scarlett was listening to her playlist in an attempt to calm her nerves, so when you opened the door it was a bit startling.

"Sorry my love," you giggle out as you enter the car, Scarlett leans over to place a sweet kiss to your cheek while she snuggly buckles you in. "It's okay honey, are you ready to go?," you nod, so she just drives right off in an unfamiliar direction, and you take the time to survey her. She's effortlessly gorgeous; wearing a pair of deep brown corduroy pants, that she'd paired with a lighter shaded baggy sweater, and boots. She was also sporting a smattering of jewelry, and while sat at a stoplight you noticed her spinning her ring around her finger, giving away to her obvious nerves, and causing a dreadful anxiety of your own to build up.

The day is full of love and laughter, the first stop at the beach able to calm the blonde's nerves, so therefore your own had subsided. Scarlett drove you all over the city, taking you to the finest of establishments, and across many a memory lane, filling you with glee. Now, as it approaches dinner time you notice the silence had returned, but the blonde's easy smiles are enough to keep you placated as she pulls up to a pizzeria.

"Honey, put this on.," Your eyes widen when you shift to see a blindfold, "Um, are you planning to kill me?," Scarlett playfully rolls her eyes then puts it on you with a gentle peck. "If I'd planned to kill you, what's my motive?" You ponder her question while she takes off, coming up short when the car comes to a stop not even ten minutes later, "Stay put."

The metal door clicking shut tells you she's left, you hum along to the radio, having to use the music as a basis of time with your current blockade. After about ten minutes your door is opened, causing you to shriek just in case it wasn't your lover, "Honey it's just me, now give me your hand.," she chuckles, after catching your breath you do just that.

With the sounds of crunching leaves beneath your feet you were back to pondering a motive, "Jealousy, that girl flirted with me last week at your red carpet premiere, and I couldn't even walk right for the next three days.," Scarlett cackles as she realizes what you were saying, but she

Once she removes your blindfold she cuts your sight off with a tender kiss, leaving you nearly breathless as she pulls back, her eyes full of something completely unplaceable when she pulls away from you, "I love you Y/N/N.," When you look around you know exactly where you are, there's a blanket set up with pizza, and other snacks that Scarlett sits upon, shakily you turn to see your sons tombstone,

——————————————————————

Joshua Ryan Y/L/N—Valdez

April 10, 2012-October 14, 2019

Beloved Son, Brother, Friend

and Pokémon Trainer

——————————————————————

It's freshly cleaned, the rock shining under the hues of pink and orange the sunset emits; a customized bouquet sits in the flower holder. It's a mixture of gardenias, corn holes, white, and yellow carnations, with a single crimson red rose towering over the rest, the selection clearly methodical, and has you bursting into tears as you turn to face Scarlett. She's kneeling on the blanket with her hands outstretched to you, but before you take them into your own you notice the Pokémon beanie, and she sees, "I wanted to make a good first impression."

The silly smirk on her face is enough to calm you down, so you take her hands, she gently pulls you down to sit on the blanket beside her. While you watch her with your knees pulled to your chest you patiently wait for her to pass you a slice of the pizza, and it finally dawns on you that her selection—Margherita, was Joshua's favorite. Then you're frowning at her salad, realizing she chose a dinner that didn't fit her diet all in the name of your little boy.

"Scar...," She looks to you with a hesitant gaze, nervously throwing her hand up in a request for your silence, to which you nod, and she smiles, "Honey, I lied to you," She outwardly cringes at the way she started this out, but she just rushes on, "I did visit Jess in May to make amends, but that wasn't the only reason; I went there to ask them for permission."

"For what?," She chuckles at your perplexed expression, "Patience honey, I'm getting there."

Scarlett shifts to face you while perched up on her knees, and realization begins to sink in as she takes her next inhale, "You're my fate Y/N, my endgame in this silly life full of obstacles. Never did I think I'd find love again, especially not at a park, but the connections had already been deeply sowed, and because of that we found one another, and look at us now."

"In a cemetery at sunset.," you tearily tease, attempting to ease the obvious tension in her shoulders, and it works as she pauses to laugh. "Yes, in a cemetery at sunset, because in order to ask you what I want to, I need his blessing. I've already gotten Angie's, Riley's, and Jess's, Carson didn't have to say anything, I just knew. I'd read somewhere that a spirit is strongest around their anniversaries, and so I thought today would be the best day to try this out."

It's only then that you even realize today is three years to the day that you're son had died, your hand travels across the blanket in search of her own, desperate for the comforting touch of your lover, while also trying your best to offer her some of her own as she faces the tombstone of your son.

"Hi Joshua, my name is Scarlett Johansson, and I was really sad that we never got to meet; thank you for making my little Riley so happy. Now, I'm here to ask you something, I hope that you'll give me a resounding yes, but I'll get it if you can't, it's sometimes hard to let go. Your mama has become my favorite person, I've fallen madly in love with her, and if you'll let me, I'd love to marry her, what do you say?"

Before you could say a word a sudden gust of wind rolls through your surrounding area, throwing a few loose corn hole petals onto Scar's shirt, and drying the tears on your cheek, you both gasp at the confirming sensation. Scarlett looks to you with teary eyes swimming with hope, "Ask me...," She shifts to face you once more, her hand fumbling around the pocket of her pants and you wonder how you'd never noticed the bulky box that she pulls out.

Her voice is thick with an unwavering emotion, "Y/N, my sweetest creation, will you marry me and make me the happiest woman to exist?" You take in a deep breath that comes back out shaky, coupled with your lip that is trembling, but you somehow manage to croak out a "Yes." Scarlett slips the ring onto your shaking hand then pulls your trembling form into her lap.

"I told you he loved you..."

"He had good taste."

"Yeah, he did... I love you Scarlett, and I can't wait to call you my wife one day."

You fell asleep in her lap, heart full of hope, and mind left to dream of the bright future that's on the horizon for you both. Scarlett just held you close while lightly sobbing as all of her wildest dreams have finally come true.

——

"Mama..."

"Yes little one?"

"Can you tell me the story again?"

You smile, knowing exactly where this is going, turning around to face your son who's looking up at you with bright, half lidded eyes that he tiredly rubs at, the sight warming your heart. He's completely ready for bed in his Pokémon pajamas, you lean down to kiss his forehead, then you lift and tuck him into his bed.

"Where should I start my little love?"

He yawns, then with a last burst of energy he squeals, "The beginning!!!," smiling up at you while he waits for you to go on, and asking you questions about his 'big brudder' any chance he gets until he eventually falls fast asleep with a gentle smile on his face. His tiny arms tightly woven around the worn down Squirtle plush, and your heart aches at the subtle familiarity.

Scarlett watches from the doorway as you sit there, stroking his face far beyond necessary, but the gentle ways in which you love the kids always makes her belly swarm with warmth. Once she hears you sniffle though she makes her presence known, quietly gliding across the room she leans over you to kiss Carson's forehead, then she lifts your face up by your chin, softly pressing her lips to yours, and tasting the salty tears that settled on the top of your lip.

When she pulls away her hands reach down for you, a gentle force used to pull you to your feet, and she quietly giggles into your neck when it's discovered that your lower extremities had betrayed you in falling asleep, and so she drags you off to bed, lightly throwing your presently useless body onto the mattress then she picks out pajamas for the both of you to change into.

Silently she taps your shoulder so you mindlessly lift your arms, "I didn't even hear you come in," your muffled response is vaguely heard by your wife as she lifts the shirt over your head, followed by a relieved sigh when your bra is next to fall.

"Well, I got into the house just in time to kiss the girls goodnight, then I quietly made my way over to pookie's room to hear as you trailed off in your riveting storytelling when he'd fallen asleep. The moment was too sweet to interrupt, but then I heard my sweet girl crying and so I decided to break my silence."

She leaves the floor open for you to say exactly what's on your mind without the pressure as she changes into your worn out t-shirt and a pair of sleeping shorts, then she climbs under the covers, rolling onto her side to face you, and smiling kindly at your perplexed face.

"Can you believe it Scar? We've got us a high schooler now, wow, when did that happen? Not to even mention the middle schooler, and a kindergartner... A day full of new starts."

She sees through your surface level conversing, "Joshua would've been so excited to start high school; I'm sure him and Riley would've joined the Tennis team together, and we'd have been at all of their games. Angie would've been on her phone pretending like she didn't care, but secretly recording every game they played, then Carson would be the opposite, he would have one of those silly little foam fingers on, while jumping and screeching their praises.," pausing, she pulls your lightly trembling body into hers, hand scratching at your scalp, while the other rubs the skin beneath your shirt.

"I'm sure they would've joined one of those silly clubs..."

You interrupt her, "Anime.," and she gasps at your scratchy voices input.

"Yes, exactly! They would've joined the anime club, and gone to all of those conventions together, saving you the pain of having to go with Riley."

"I still would've gone..." You quietly grumble, then lightly nudge the woman. 

She laughs, "Yeah, I know you would've, you're a secret fan.," you follow her lead, after a few minutes the laughter dies down, and you place a delicate kiss to her neck, whispering a broken "Thank you...," against her soft skin.

"He would've been so loved Y/N/N, well, he is."

You hear the strain in her voice, pulling back to really look at your wife you notice the tracks of her silent tears, you quickly rise to wipe them for her, "You never even got to meet him, but you really do love him, huh?," her glossy eyes answering you before she even mutters a word.

"Of course I do, how could I not? His legacy followed him, he made all of my girls so happy, I just know he would've done the same for me."

"You really think we would've been together?"

"Absolutely, you're my actual soulmate Y/N/N, every wrong choice was just a roadblock to get to you, and I know I would've had you, even if I had to have broken you and Jess up myself."

"He would've been so mad if you did that."

"Yeah, yeah I know, he was a good little boy. Listen, I know tomorrow's going to be a hard day for you, but I promise you're not alone."

You lean into her, "I never am with you love," sighing against her lips before kissing her deeply, then nuzzling your nose against hers, "...and you never will be honey."

————————————————————

9,645 Words

This is the last installment of this story.

❤️Kaitlyn🤪

August 2027– Josh/Riley(14); Angie(11); Carson(5) — (Clarification for The ending)

Flowers & Meanings:

White C: purity, innocence, and sympathy

Yellow C: friendship and gratitude

Gardenia: purity and sweetness

Cornflower: hope

Crimson rose: mourning and sorrow

[phoenixrising0308]

Our Life Together: Not over you

Books: The Royal Romance - Royal Heir

Rating: M (Mature content and implied sexual activities)

Pairing: Liam & Jessica Garcia (MC)

Triggers: 🍋

Disclaimer

Our Life together timeline: This is still within Agent Phoenix A/U and its stories about Jessica & Liam’s relationship as live-in partners and married life. Character traits don’t always remain the same. Stories using this timeline are meant for challenges or requests. catch up here

Chapter Summary: Liam tries to mend his relationship with Jessica. *She with held some information from him and he kind of deported her.

Chapter Song inspiration: Not over you - Gavin Degraw

Word Count: 2,000*As always, forgive my typos and grammatical errors.*

Average reading time: 8 minutes

Hugh Cary Tunnel - Stuck in midtown traffic

“What the fuck is this! Why is there so much fucken traffic!” Jessica spat in frustration.

Jessica cranked up the volume to 1010 wins “Traffic jams continue as an unexpected foreign dignitary is in  to-”

“Fuck you 1010 wins always stating the fucken obvious. What asshole is here that’s ruining my night? I pre-ordered pizza with tons of greasy shit so I can have a mini heart attack. I also have a pint of ice cream with my name on it and the 2nd season of friends to watch it’s Friday and I don’t care about anyone. Let me be miserable and cry in my house alone! Will Ross and Rachel ever make it? No, because love is bullshit.”

Jessica looked at herself in the mirror and said, “I look like shit. I have raccoon eyes because I keep rubbing my fucken eyes. Because I’m crying all the fucken crying.  My lipstick is all over my face because I keep biting my lip. When was the last time I combed my hair? It looks like a bird’s nest.”

Jessica grabbed her cherry coke and took a sip but the lid was loose and it spilled all over herself  “Fuck whatever you know what I have tinned windows" Jessica pulled her shirt that was tucked into her skirt out and unclasped her bra “Let’s let the girls breath” Jessica kicked off her shoes and lifted her skirt and removed her pantyhose and said, “Yes, I’m a complete trainwreck! Who loves ya baby? No one! Shit, I got to shave my legs. And God knows, I look like a fucken yeti down there. I ain’t got no one to impress.”

90 mins later…

Jessica’s house

Jessica parked her car and hit a trash can “Fuck! I’m a horrible driver.” she picked up the trash can and fell on a pile of garbage “God, why do you hate me so much? I’m a good person! Okay, I promise to go to church you know what let’s start off by not saying Goddammit.” She grabbed her purse and began to walk a few feet barefoot to her house when she noticed her porch light on. “Goddammit, who’s selling shit now because I don’t want it. I’m not donating to charity fuck that. Last night Sarah Mclachlan got me for $200.00 bucks with that dog commercial.”

“Jess?“ Liam said softly

Jessica took her shoes and aimed at Liam. “Fuck you, Liam! I hate you.”

He ducked missing the shoes just in time.

“Hate is a strong word.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel! You’re the reason I was stuck in traffic. You're the reason I’m a heartbroken fucken up mess that cant function! No instead of making a sexy as come back to show you what you're messing I look like a fucken mess. So thank you for ruining my comeback! Jessica began waving her hands in the air as she continued her rant “But this is me I’m not your little cover girl anymore. Guess that shit happens when you work for 18 hours and your ass is sitting sweating balls in traffic sticky because the asshole at McDonald’s cant close a fucken cap on a soft drink. And someone you love takes your heart and stomps on it.”

“Can we talk?”

“Say what you got to and then get the fuck off my lawn. Too bad I’m not fucken royalty so I have someone to fucken escort you when you’re done. You could have done it yourself you fucker but you hid behind Mara! You treated me like I meant nothing to you. Guess what I stole your stupid sweater in case you’re looking for it call Interpol.”

Liam smiled “You have my sweater?”

“Yea so. It smelled like you and I’m not over you. In fact, I miss you. But your hands seem broken and you don’t know how to return calls or emails.”

“No, I hug your pillow. I miss you. And Jessica, you still look beautiful. I’ve been waiting for hours on your doorstep. Thinking of what to say regretting that night like crazy.” Liam walked over holding a massive bouquet of flowers and said, “These are for you.”

Jessica said, “Thank you. You can get your perfectly sculpted ass off my lawn and on a plane. Hope you have snacks asshole.”

Liam said, “I deserve that. But I came here because I needed to see you. I needed to tell you I’m so sorry, that I’m not over you and I could never be over you because I love you and I didn’t know what to say. I fucked up. Jess, I’m the worse let me make it up to you.”

“Liam, our fights get so ugly. I hate fighting with you but you fucken like broke up with me, fired me, and deported me in one fight. You totally hit below the belt. I still cry about what you said to me. God, that fucken hurt.”

“I know Love-”

“Don’t call me love and turn me into a pile of mush. With your I’m so sexy act…well not so much an act but you hurt me so fucken much.”

Liam got on his knees and held her by the waist and a man walking his dog stopped to watch.

“I’m sorry I talked to you that way. I’m sorry I made you cry. I’m sorry I’m an asshole. I’m just fucken sorry let me make it up to you.”

Jessica yelled out at the nosy neighbor “Can I fucken help you? We are having a private moment here! And you’re too close to my fucken lawn. Keep it moving.” The man walked away.

“Can I take you out? Please let me take you out. Let just be together and talk.” Liam pleaded.

“Like on a date.”

“Yes, lo-” Liam cleared his throat and said, “Yes, Jess on a date. A real one. I found a place nearby that overlooks the beach and I hear it’s lovely.”

“I don’t even have anything to wear. So is it a yoga pant place?”

Liam handed her a Bergdorf Goodman bag. “The salesgirl helped me. Got you something for tonight’s shoes and matching purse. But if you want to wear yoga pants go ahead.”

Jessica grabbed the bag smirked and said “ You are pulling out all the stops here.” Jessica smirked

“Is it working?”

“Maybe.”

Liam handed Jessica and another bag La Perla luxury lingerie Jessica took the bag “You aren’t seeing me naked. ” ‘God, I’m such a liar. Fight his magic dick…resist temptation. Wear grandma panties.’

“I will imagine you in it”

“Well, I had plans. I don’t know if I want to cancel them.” ‘Bullshit but he doesn't have to know’

“Please, cancel them. I’d love it if you spend the evening with me.”

“Fine let me see if they are willing to reschedule. It might be difficult.”

Jessica stepped away and picked up her cellphone and dialed

“Hello, this is Dominos.”

“Im sorry I’m canceling”

“Can I have your name”

“Well shit, you don’t have to get so upset.”

“Ms. I need you to name to cancel your order.”

“Since when does Jessica Garcia give explanations?”

“Okay we can cancel but you won’t get a refund.”

“Give me the credit. I let you know goddamit.”

“Yes, we will.”

“Thank you we will speak soon. Maybe next Friday for my usual.”

Jessica turned to Liam and said, “I have an opening in my schedule. Would you like to come inside?”

Liam walked in carrying a garment bag of his own and said, “Do you mind if I change.”

“Go ahead you know where the second bathroom is. Right? It’s down the hall.”

Guest bathroom

Liam drew himself a bath and laid out the toiletries he wanted to win Jessica back or at least get sparks flying. Their last fight was brutal and he hated himself for it. He hurt her and wanted to make it up to her. After talking to Drake he understood her position. A pep talk with Leo resulted in the following directive ’ Take a multivitamin have a green smoothie and be a man…fuck her stupid it works'

He hung his suit up and began to take a shower. Once he was done he quickly shaved and put on his suit leaving his tie around his collar knowing Jessica couldn’t resist fixing it.

In the bedroom

Jessica pulled out a navy and white knee-length dress body con dress “Wow.” she laid in the bed she looked at the strappy open-toe heels with matching purse and said, “Damn Liam you sure know how to pick an outfit.”

Jessica ran herself a bath and grabbed her Venus razor but she knew the job required more. She looked under the sink cabinet and grabbed her Brazilian waxing kit “Well. Here goes nothing.”

She walked out of the bathroom feeling like a brand new person, not a single stubble and as smooth as a can be when she opened up the lingerie bag she saw see-through panties with crystals all over as a design. “Nope. I will be strong! I will forget you have a magic dick and not sleep with you. But I’m wearing these. They feel so fucken soft. And they sparkle. Fucken Liam! You know I like shiny things.”

Jessica put on the magical underwear “Shit. They look good. Fine keep them on. Fight his kryptonite dick.”

Living room

Liam was pacing in the living room and when he saw her walk towards him ‘God, can we cancel. I spend the whole night with you in bed.’

Jessica said, “Liam, your tie.”

“Jess, could you please do it for me? I’ve missed it so much.”

“Let me think about it.” Jessica stared at his piercing blue eyes and was already melting into mush. ‘Don’t fuck him pendeja (stupid).’ “Come over.” she tiptoed and began to adjust his tie into an Eldredge knot her favorite tie knot and said, “Absolutely perfect.”

Liam looked at her and stepped in while holding her wrist he said, “The only thing I see here that’s absolutely perfect is you. You are the most beautiful woman in the world and I will always think that way until the end of time.”

’Be strong! He is trying to get into your panties and you can not be weak..but he has a magic dick…nope you are mad grrrr be mad’. “Thank you. I’m where are we going?”

“The place is called above the rooftop.”

“Oh, it gets really busy on Friday’s everyone wants a view on the New York skyline.”

“I wouldn't worry. I shut the restaurant down. It’s just us tonight. I even have a DJ so we can listen to music and dance if you want.”

Above the roof

The restaurant was empty except for the wait staff. They were led to a table on the roof overlooking the city. Liam spared no expense in making the night memorable. On their personalized menu for dinner along with endless bottles of Merlot was a pear and goat cheese salad, Beef Bourguignon in a red wine reduction paired with tender root vegetables.

After they finished dinner Liam invited Jessica for a dance and she took his hand and they danced under the stary night. He pressed her close to his body. There was no anger or hurt between the pair. They forgot the events that occurred several weeks before. It was Jessica and Liam at their core it was love adoration, passion, and when he kissed her slowly and gently they both remembered the second they fell in love and how much they complete each other.

“Mr. Rys you dessert is ready.” their waiter called out.

Liam pulled away from the kiss and whispered “Jess, did you save room for dessert?”

“Always. But that means the night is over I guess.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“I suppose I will let you take me home.”

“I will take whatever I can get.”

Jessica and Liam sat at the table feeding each other A Berry Mont Blanc cremé tart.

She moaned in delight at the soft velvety dessert and  said: “This is delicious Liam.”

“You have cremé on your lip,” Liam informed her. Jessica took a napkin to wipe her lip. Liam held her wrist and kissed the bottom of her lip kissing the cremé off. “Jess, when you wear that lipstick I just want to kiss it off those luscious lips. I just can't stop myself.”

“Liam, where are you staying tonight?”

“After I drop you home I’m heading for the four seasons… you can join me if you like?”

‘Fuck the magic dick won. Guess I won’t wake the neighborhood with my moaning.’ Jessica yelled “Check! Check NOW!”

Four Seasons Penthouse

Liam kissed Jessica as his hands went to the small of her back and he began to work the zipper to her dress, pulling it all the way down, and as much as he hated taking a step back from her he did so he could help get the dress off of her body. It revealed a nude bra and panty set that seemed to sparkle in the candlelight “God, you are gorgeous. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met,” he said.

She felt as his hands trailed along her bare skin, leaving little goosebumps in their wake. He smiled at her body’s reaction to him but didn’t do much past that. He slowly untied his tie, letting it drop to the floor with her dress, and then his jacket came off before he slowly unworked the buttons of his shirt, her eyes followed his fingers as they revealed the skin of his chest.

Soon enough his shirt was off, and she stepped forward to run her fingers along his chest. He chuckled as he worked his belt off and then his pants, leaving them both in their underwear. He pulled her body close to his own again and led them in another dance and this time she could feel the hardness of his cock pressed against her stomach. She knew how much he wanted her, he had been so eager to get her in his bed.

He led her over to the bed and had her lay down, she blushed to know that was going to happen soon, knowing just how well he was going to fill her up. He unhooked her bra and slipped it over her shoulders before sending it to the rest of the clothes and then slid her panties off. He couldn’t help but take the chance to look at her body.

He touched her folds and was not surprised to find that she was already dripping wet for him, she was almost always ready for him and he smirked as he pulled his own underwear off. “Are you ready for me? Tell me how much you want me, Jessica.”

She blushed as she stared at his hard cock, and she swore she got even wetter at the sight even though she was sure that was not possible given how turned on she already was. “I want you, Liam, please I’ve wanted you all night, I tried to fight it.” Her words spurred him into action, and he took hold of his cock to help line it up at her entrance.

“I could never deny you anything,” he said as his cock slipped inside of her and filled her up. He leaned over her and pressed his lips to her own, breathing heavily as he enjoyed the sensation of being deep within her, he rocked his hips but didn’t pull out of her just yet, wanted her to get used to the feeling of this and wanted her to miss this when he pulled out. A hand trailed up her body and up to her breast and he began to play with it, he teased her nipple, making it hard, making her want more and he continued to do so, knowing exactly what it would do to her body, could feel what it was doing to her and he smirked at just how responsive her body was to him.

“That’s right Jessica,” he moaned against her lips as he began to move his hips, he pulled out of her so just the tip was inside of her before plunging back in. The movement caused her to groan in pleasure, her fingers dug into his back at the sensation of being quickly filled. He repeated the motion, the thrusts slow as he began to work her up. Soon her breathing was heavy, and she groaned with every thrust.

“Jessica? Tell me what you need.” He said kissing down her jaw and up her neck to her ear, she could hear him breathe heavily into it and it just made her want him more. “Come for me my love, come around me.” looking forward to the feeling of her finishing around his cock, but he had no plans to be done with her just yet. He wanted to give her as much pleasure as she could possibly take.

She rocked her hip in response to his words and soon enough she was coming on his cock, he rode her through her orgasm, making sure to prolong it for her, and she could feel her juices coming out around his cock. “Fuck, you feel so good”.

He let her body relax for a few moments before he began to thrust again, it was obvious that she hadn’t expected that as her fingers dug into his shoulders and he smiled down at her. “I think that I can get you to come again for me, don’t you? Don’t you want to come again for me?” His question made her blush and all she could do was nod in response, she wanted to come again, she wanted to continue to have him filling her up and that seemed to be exactly what he wanted as well. “Fuck, Jess I love your pussy. I love making love to you,” he said pressing his lips to hers again to let her know how much he loved her. His fingers moved from working at her breast and down her stomach to between her thighs, the hard-little bundle of nerves was not ready to be touched and she squirmed as he pressed his thumb to it.

“Mmmm Liam. I love making love to you.” Jessica moaned as he did everything that she liked to her, she was reminded just how well he knew her and how his body knew exactly how to please her. He worked her over as his cock thrust inside of her and she decided to help him along too, her cunt squeezed tightly around his cock which caused him to thrust his hips faster along with a groan leaving his lips. It was obvious that she knew exactly what turned him on as well. “I love you, Jessica.” Liam panted as he continued. Jessica cupped his face “I love you too. Baby I love you so much.” as she moaned with each thrust.

The way he was moved inside of her now was relentless, he quickly was able to angle his hips to hit her g-spot which caused her to let out a soft scream, and he smirked in response. Every few thrusts he would hit it, making sure it would be a surprise for her, making sure that she wasn’t expecting it. “Tell me you love me.” “Love you L-Liam.” She breathed out. “Tell me you are all mine.” “I- I- I’m yours, Liam.”

She was whimpering and holding on tight to him, obviously trying to hold herself together as he finally began to approach his own orgasm. “Come with me, come on my cock, love, let me know how good this feels for you,” he nipped her bottom lip as his thumb worked her clit over and she allowed herself to lose herself to the pleasure of what he was doing. She came ferociously, a loud scream leaving her lips, not worried at all that other people might be able to hear her and wonder what was happening behind the closed doors of their room.

She could feel his cock twitch as he came inside of her, filling her up deep inside. Her body relaxed then, her limbs unwrapping from his body and settling back onto the bed. He smiled at her before giving her a small kiss and pulling out of her.

The night had been exhausting and when she yawned, he let out a small chuckle and gathered her in his arms. “That was not a part of my plan. You turn me into mush each time.” Jessica said as she buried herself into his chest. Liam gave a sigh “OK. I get it I’m such a fucken asshole and I deserve every bit of that temper of yours but thank you for putting it aside and having this moment with me. I totally don’t deserve it. BUT it was absolutely amazing. I love you Jess remember that always. So be mad at me in the morning…fucken be furious with me. Punch me if it helps but tonight Jessica just be all mine. Jessica, only you know the man that I am beyond the surface. Jess, you see me for who. I can be myself when I’m with you. You are my air without you I just can’t breathe. You make me feel whole. I can’t sum up just how much you mean to me. I will never ever stop telling you that I belong to you.”

[writethelifeyouwant]

Always With The Scissors

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader / Dean Winchester x Reader / Sam x Dean Rating: 18+ Tags: sloppy seconds, voyeurism, angst, objectification of women, slut shaming, dirty talk, cum play, pining!Dean Word Count: 2.9k  Created for: @spnkinkbingo​ - Objectification | @negans-lucille-tblr​ - Man Crush Monday: Sam and Dean / Two for Tuesdays: Smangst / Sinful Sunday: Sloppy Seconds  A/N: Super big congratulations of 7,000 followers!! You deserve every single one and many many more ❤️

Dean has a very specific kink. He knows it makes him sound a little creepy... okay, a lot creepy – okay, he is actually a full-on creep – but he never cums harder than he does when he's inside a girl his little brother's just fucked. And it’s not that his brother has awesome taste in girls and Dean is just jealous and wants in on the fun too. It’s not even that he has a big kink for sloppy seconds. It had never appealed to him before they started playing this sick sort of game they’ve been playing since Sam decided he was over Jess enough to start sleeping around again (he knew Sam was nowhere near ready for another relationship).

Dean remembers eyeing up a petite little thing at the bar once and then noticing Sam checking her out not too long after. Ever the gracious big brother, and not creepily concerned with Sam’s sex life, Dean figured he’d bow out and let Sam take the swing at this one — but then Sam caught Dean looking at her too, and tried to back down to let Dean have at it. Dean couldn’t have that. So he suggested the ploy that got them where they are now, they play Rock Paper Scissors for the chance to shoot their shot; Dean always loses Rock Paper Scissors.

The part of the night they hadn’t anticipated was the girl they’d been ogling spotting them playing a game for the chance to fuck her, and suggesting that they don’t need to choose, they can just take turns. That had been the game changer.

Listening to Sam fuck her stupid through the wall of the motel room is seriously hot, and Dean has to fight to keep his hand out of his pants the whole time he sits waiting, hearing Sam grunt out filth that he never imagined he’d hear from his little brother’s mouth. And when Sam lopes back through the adjoining door between their rooms with sex ruffled hair and a smirk, with a quick aside of ‘She’s all yours’ before he ducks into the bathroom for a shower, Dean swears he feels his knees go weak.

Quick as he can, he makes his way into the ‘sex room’ as he decided to call it in his head, and found the girl laying in the centre of the bed, legs draped open, playing with the cum leaking out of her pussy. Dean has to grab himself through his jeans, scared he’ll come on the spot if he doesn’t cut himself off.

“You gonna fuck me or what, big boy?” The girl leers at him, and Dean strips down like he’s being timed and slots himself between her thighs and pushes home in one go. He finishes embarrassingly quickly, with Sam’s cum sloshing around his dick and leaking into his mouth where the girl had painted it on like lip gloss. He devours every drop.

Dean catches Sam’s eye from across the bar and nods towards the girl he’s picked out as a target. It’s a college bar, so Sam does the approach, seeing as he's the one who looks like he could still fit in here. Dean drops himself in a chair and watches Sam work, proudly — he’s the one who taught the kind everything he knows after all. He watches as Sam charms her easily, gets her a drink, asks if she wants to come sit down and motions to the table Dean’s sitting at.

“Dean, this is Y/N,” Sam introduces her, smoothly pulling out a chair for her and pushing it back to the table — a true gentleman. “Y/N, this is my brother, Dean.”

“Hey there,” Y/N smiles at him easily, and Dean can tell they’ve picked someone up for a good time.

“Hey yourself, sweetheart,” Dean gives her a wink and leans in closer. “So, Sammy tell you how we’re hoping this night’s gonna go?”

“He did,” Y/N nods and shoots a smirk at Sam, who reciprocates, and Dean feels his guts churning. “Said the back seat of your car was real comfy too,” she grins mischievously.

“Sam even puts a blanket down most of the time, real class act,” Dean laughs, gulping down more of his drink.

“Wow,” Y/N is sarcastically amazed, “you fellas know how to treat a lady right,” she sounds bitter but Dean can tell she’s joking. She wouldn’t have followed Sam over here in the first place if she wasn’t.

“We try our best,” Sam grins at her charmingly, and Dean can see Y/N melt a little looking at his baby bro’s eyes — he can’t blame her.

Several drinks later, Y/N starts getting handsy with both of them, and Sam suggests they think about moving their little party of three outside. They show Y/N out to the car, Dean opens the back door with a flourish and she slides gracefully inside, glancing back out with a hungry look in her eyes. “So, who’s joining me?” she flutters her lashes seductively, like we need any convincing, Dean thinks to himself.

“Sammy,” Dean grunts, making a ‘come here’ motion with his hands and then holding one out flat and the other on top in a fist in preparation. Sam sidles over to Dean, gait smug, like he already knows he’s gonna win and get first crack at Y/N — which of course he is, because that’s how Dean likes it. He holds up his hands in a mirror of Dean’s, and eyes not leaving each others’ they both beat their fists against their palms. 1, 2, 3.

“Ooh,” Sam hisses in mock sympathy when they look down and see Sam’s ‘rock’ beats Dean’s ‘scissors’. “Always with the scissors, Dean,” Sam gives him a condescending pat on the shoulder, like he doesn’t know what Dean’s doing, and maybe he doesn’t, Dean thinks. Maybe Sam truly doesn’t realise how fucked up I am.

Dean turns to head back into the bar as Sam slides himself into the backseat next to Y/N, but he stops in his tracks when she calls out the window — “Sure you don’t wanna watch, handsome?” Dean freezes, the possibility of actually getting to see Sam fuck this girl, not just imagine it, is more intoxicating than the drinks he’s downed tonight. To actually see Sam, stripped and vulnerable, losing himself inside some cunt… Dean had never even considered that as a possibility before, but now that the thought is in his mind he needs it, craves it. He spins on his heel, looking back at Sam, inwardly praying that his little brother will be gracious enough to grant him this one thing.

“I don’t mind,” Sam smirks, eyes darting back to Y/N and raking down her body. “If she wants you to watch her get used like a little fucktoy, she can have that.” Dean is back by the car in a heartbeat. Sam pulls the back door shut as Y/N climbs on his lap and starts kissing him, while Dean checks around furtively and slides into the front.

Y/N moans start to fill the small space of the car’s interior as she grinds enthusiastically down onto Sam. Dean watches Sam run his hands down her back and up under the hem of her skirt.  He wishes Sam would take her skirt off so he could see Sam’s hands on her ass, see his  fingers tearing into the lace panties that Dean had gotten a glimpse of when she slid into the backseat earlier on. They pull apart and Y/N pushes Sam’s shirt up and over his head, messing up his hair, before she runs her fingers through it and holds on tight, earning a pleased groan from Sam. Dean catalogues that knowledge for later use – not that he thinks he’ll be in a position to test it out on Sam, but it will be a nice detail to add to his tragic imaginary Sam, the one that knows how sick he is and doesn’t care.

Sam’s hands sneak up the back of Y/N’s top and Dean watches as he removes her bra with practiced ease, and he nods to himself – respect. Sam must be feeling her up now because his arms have disappeared to her front and she’s letting out some pretty little whimpers and arching into his chest. Y/N pulls her top off, then reaches for Sam’s jeans, undoing the belt, button and zip quick as she can. Sam pushes her off him and she sprawls to the side, facing Dean now, and her eyes seek him out.

Her chest is heaving, her breasts shuddering with each rise and fall of her chest, and Dean spends a moment taking in her body, appreciating the curves, before he notices her hands have snuck beneath her skirt and she’s clearly touching herself while she watches him. Dean flushes, reaching down to adjust himself in his jeans. “Enjoying the show?” she winks at him, and Dean nods wordlessly.

“Get back over here, and let’s give him a real show,” Sam grabs Y/N and drags her back onto his lap, still facing Dean. She straddles him and rubs herself over his crotch. Sam snakes his arms around her waist and pulls up the front of her skirt, so Dean can see Sam’s cock thrusting between her thighs, against the glistening satin and lace panties she’s wearing. Dean feels his dick leap in his jeans, and he reaches down to adjust himself again before he decides to just give in and let down his zip, pushing his hand inside his boxers to fist himself out of the material. “Wanna see me fuck her?” Sam grunts, eyes flicking up to catch Dean staring at their grinding hips.

Dean feels his cock leak across his fingers at Sam’s words. “Fuck yes,” he groans, stroking himself harder. “Fucking give it to ‘er Sammy.”

“Want me to give it to you sweetheart?” Sam breathes against Y/N’s neck, tucking her hair tenderly behind her ear and nipping at her earlobe. She squeezes her eyes shut and whimpers, Sam’s way with words clearly affecting her. “Gonna be a good little slut and take my cock? Let me use you up and then hand you over to my brother to finish you off?”

“Fuck, Sam please, please, just use me,” she pulls her panties to the side and tries to get Sam to slip inside her but she can’t quite find the angle, and she whines, desperate and frustrated.

“Wow, for someone who just wants to be a set of holes you sure are needy,” Sam growls and gets his cock in the right place and pulls her down his shaft slowly. “Thought you told me inside you’d let me do whatever I want to you, and you wouldn’t put up a fuss?”

“Just fucking fuck me already, please Sam,” Y/N is begging, grinding down onto Sam’s cock like a whore.  

Sam finally stops teasing her and follows through on his promise to use her. One of his hands comes up to wrap around her throat while he uses his other arm to keep her body pressed close against his, and he punches his hips into her hard, without abandon. Dean nearly chokes every time he catches a glimpse of Sam’s cock, bare and shiny with her slick, before he pushes back into her. It’s better than he could have imagined, watching Sam actually rail into a pussy instead of just hearing it through some flimsy drywall. It’s much easier to picture what Sam would look like fucking into him now that he’s seeing this.

“She feel good Sammy?” Dean is horrified to hear how strained his voice is when he speaks. He sounds like a goddamn girl with how fucking breathy he is.

“Uh huh,” Sam fucks into her quicker, like Dean’s question has spurred him on. “So wet, can feel her soaking into my thighs,” he moans. Dean refuses to let out the whimper that’s trying to escape his throat. “Gonna be even wetter for you,” Sam continues, leering up at Dean through his lashes, chin looped over Y/N’s shoulder. “She’s gonna be all messy when I’m done with her. But you like ‘em like that dontcha? Like ‘em strung out and used up?”

“Fuck,” Dean does almost whimper.

“Oh god,” Y/N whines, dropping her hips down in earnest against every one of Sam’s thrusts, and she snakes a hand down her front to start rubbing over her clit.

“Oh you wanna cum, do you? Think you earned that yet?” Sam bites against Y/N’s neck and bats her hand away from her core. “I think you’re gonna have to do a bit more before you get to cum. Gotta let me cum in you first, huh? Then you’re gonna be a good little cocksleeve for my big brother to get off in, and then, maybe, if you’ve been a good girl, we’ll make you cum.”

“Fucking hell,” she moans heavily, dropping her head back onto Sam’s shoulder. “C’mon then fuck me, want your cum inside me, please,” she whines, voice piercing in the small space.

“Yeah, that’s what Dean wants too,” Sam smirks, but he’s not looking at Dean now, he’s got his eyes closed tight and his head buried against Y/N’s shoulder. Dean thanks fuck for that, because when he heard Sam say that he knows Dean wants him to cum inside Y/N, Dean thought he was going to die of embarrasment. Obviously he wanted that, and in the back of his mind he knew Sam must know that he likes fucking the girls second, but they’d never talked about it. What did Sam think about the fact that Dean got off on fucking his little brother’s cum back into whatever warm body they’d picked out that day? He must be okay with it because they keep doing it.

Dean’s existential crisis is cut short when he hears the tell tale gasp and cut off whine that means Sam is cumming, and he looks up just in time to catch the  pure fucking bliss on his little brother’s face. His eyes flick down to where Sam and Y/N are joined and he watches, mesmerised, as Sam pulls out, his cock laced with the white of his release.

“Open your mouth, bitch,” Sam grunts, and shoves Y/N off his lap and onto her hands and knees so she can suck the cum back off his cock. Dean’s breath catches in his throat, desperately hoping she doesn’t swallow.

When she pulls off of Sam with a wet sound her mouth stays open and Dean can see the cum slipping from her lips. He reaches over the seat impulsively and grabs her hair, yanking her towards him and slamming their mouths together. Dean sucks her tongue into his mouth like he wants to bite it off, and he can’t keep in the moan that bubbles up from his chest when he tastes the bitter edge of Sam’s spunk on his tongue.

“C’mere,” Dean grunts against Y/N’s lips, dragging her over the top of the seat. It’s not graceful, it’s not attractive or sexy, it’s born of the intense desperation Dean has to feel something hot and wet around his dick, and when he pushes into Y/N’s cunt he knows he’s not going to win any records for stamina tonight. She’s tight, but it’s an easy fuck because she’s so so wet. Dean can feel Sam’s cum squeezing out of her every time he fucks in, pushing the creamy liquid out around his dick and grinding it into his jeans. They’re going to be ruined but he doesn’t give a fuck because this feeling is always worth it.

Y/N’s head is buried in the crook of his neck and Dean’s forehead is smashed into her shoulder as they cling to each other. Dean jumps when he feels hands on his shoulders, because the fingers are facing the wrong way for them to be hers – they’re Sam’s. He leans across Dean to kiss Y/N roughly, then yanks her head back by her hair, holding her out in front of Dean so they can watch her tits bounce while Dean fucks into her mercilessly.

“What d’ya think Dean, do we let her cum?” Y/N whines at the words and Dean can hear Sam smirking. “You’re gonna cum anyways aren’t you, you fucking slut. Gonna squeeze his cock real good for me? That’ll make you a real fuckin’ whore won’t it, going home with two guys’ loads in that pussy, huh?”

Sam’s taunts are cruel and mocking and fucking hot and Dean has never had to listen to Sam’s dirty talk while he was actually fucking something and he can’t handle it. He stills inside Y/N, gasping as he pumps his release inside her, mixes it up with Sam’s. Y/N is shaking around him and Dean thinks she must have cum too but honestly he’s so far gone he can’t even tell.

When Y/N climbs back over the seat to find her clothes, Dean stays put, still trying to catch his breath. He hears Sam open the door and walk her out, back to the bar. He shakes himself from his reverie and rushes to tuck himself back into his boxers. His jeans feel sticky, and they probably are ruined but he still doesn’t care. It was absolutely worth it.

We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library​ @tintentrinkerin​ @negans-lucille-tblr​ @fandomfic-galore​ @petitgateau911​ @schaefchenherde​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @little-diable​ @laxe-chester67​ @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67​

All SPN: @cemini-winchester @akshi8278 @stoneyggirl @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j 

[hansolmates]

one more time (m)

pairing; (former) popular!jk x (former) normie!reader summary; it’s been two years since you’ve seen your former tryst jeon jungkook. you didn’t expect him to be applying for the internship you’re currently running, along with the rate your heart is running at the sight of him in a black suit. genre/warnings; self-deprecating language, your typical (future) co-workers!au, jungkook is a piner and so is oc, a lil bit of sneaking around, adulting, a mutual understanding of feelings (finally!!) smut in the form of—soft n’ dirty baybee, unprotected, cockwarming, overstimulation, minor praise and possession kink, cumplay, &you know that they gon have heart eyes the entire time w.c; 7.3k a/n; darn why am i so... emotional over this??? it started out as a meaningless drabble series but with all my lovely readers and moots it’s grown into such a fun, introspective series. thank u for loving this and joining me on this journey. for those of u who are new to this series feel free to read popular-ish first or as a standalone! [popular-ish masterlist]

if you’ve enjoyed this (whether as a standalone or as a series) please consider giving it a like and a share✨✨✨✨✨

“A mess, I’m a mess,” you sing-song to yourself, organizing the manuals on the clear glass by subject and size. The applications of all your new interns are alphabetized, not a form out of place. Everything’s perfect. “Alright Jessica, all twenty of the interns are accounted for.” 

“Actually, there’s twenty-three,” Jessica quips, and you let your shoulders slump. Being part of the recruiting team of your company has been simultaneously exciting and stressful. Stressful because of the constant travel, but otherwise exciting because you loved your internship at your current company. You remember how nervous you were two years ago, and how much support and help you got from your recruiters. Applying to this team was a natural turn of events. 

“A-are you sure, Jess?” you look through all the applications, count the amount of nametags, triple check the chairs. You’re sweating through your blazer, wondering where you went wrong. 

The head of your recruiting team glues one hand to her hip, while the other hand is holding her iPad, scrolling with her thumb. You swallow, intimidated by Jessica’s golden wavy locks and her black-trimmed white Chanel pantsuit. 

“Yep, but don’t be too hard on yourself. I just added three more recruits last night. I’ll get the chairs and the apps are being printed. No worries,” Jessica assures, gesturing for you to hurry up and get outside, “Call the babies in!” your team leader waves her finger around like a magic wand, commanding you to the front lines. 

Krystal puts a hand on her shoulder, as always looking impeccable. She has virtually nothing to worry about. She’s a woman who has connections, courtesy of her team leader. “Let’s go, newbie,” she teases, pulling you through the door. 

The recruits in the lobby are wide-eyed and vibrant, and you feel a little nostalgic as you watch them line up in front of you and Krystal as you sign them in. You would dwell on the feeling more if it wasn’t for your exhaustion, so you decide you’ll get a chance to take a road down memory lane when you get to the hotel. 

“Name?” 

“Xu Minghao.” 

“Congrats Minghao, here’s your nametag and I’ll see you inside,” with a firm handshake, one recruiter is free to go. 

“Name?” 

“Chou Tzuyu.” 

“Congrats Tzuyu, here’s your name tag and I’ll see you inside,” she doesn’t go in straight away, and moves to the side of the door. “Actually,” you pause mid-handshake with another recruit, staring at the woman in curiosity, “my boyfriend just got a call last night that he was accepted in this year’s batch. Do you have his name?” 

“Yes, three more recruits were added,” you chirp, as if you totally did not hear that bit of information five minutes ago, “What’s his name—Jungkook?” 

The both of you blink at each other. One hand on Tzuyu’s shoulder, eyes wide and mirroring yours. Your heart falls straight to your stomach, wanting to be eaten by acids and bacteria so you can stop any possibility of feeling any lingering affection for the boy you fooled around with in undergrad. Everything about him screams professional. He’s clean cut, a pinstripe black suit you never thought he’d own, and his hair is neatly trimmed and pulled behind his ears. His shoulders look tall and broad under the slight padding, his biceps comfortably stretching against the dark fabric. The golden complexion remains the same however, from the honest brown eyes to the coral pink lips that would always smile at you. 

“Oh, so you do have his name!” Tzuyu clasps her hands together, delighted. He has a girlfriend, too. It’s then you realize you’ll be stuck with not just him, but her for the week. “You guys are so efficient. C’mon Kookie, let’s find some seats!” 

“I still gotta get my nametag,” he replies goodnaturedly, gesturing to you, “save us some seats in the front?” 

Tzuyu thinks nothing of it, squeezing his bicep before skipping off to the front row. Your eyes linger on her form, and it’s only then you realize how tall and intimidatingly pretty she looks in that plaid teddy bear brown skirt suit. You did not look that good when you were a budding undergrad. 

By this time, Krystal has taken all your other recruits from your line, regarding you with a raised brow. She’s fast with her attendance, so you know you don’t have much time. 

“I applied last minute,” Jungkook says, scratching his head, “was running out of options before graduation. I didn’t know you’d be one of my recruiters, though. Lucky me.” 

Jungkook and you never ended up keeping in contact, at least as of recent. A check-in message a few months in, a happy birthday or holiday greeting late at night. But two years later and those messages are automatic, with no feeling or personality. You never thought you’d see him again, no less in the city. 

“You just graduated with your masters, congrats,” you smile at Jungkook, although you’re sure the feigned emotion fails to reach your eyes, “IT Management, right?” 

“You remembered,” Jungkook brightens, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder, “you look good.” 

“Oh please—”  you laugh to yourself, shaking your head, “I just got off a flight and I ran over in a two-day old suit, I don’t even have makeup on,” you didn’t feel this way in the morning, you just rushed to do the bare minimum to be enough and ran over to the convention hall. But now in the presence of Jungkook who looks so handsome and clean-cut, you can’t help but feel a little slighted at the sudden reunion. 

“You’re always beautiful,” Jungkook exhales, and you clutch your clipboard closer to your chest. 

You cough, an excuse for him to stop touching your shoulder, “You should go inside, it’s gonna start soon. We can catch up later.”

“Wait—” you make a scrunched up face that Jungkook can’t catch, but right in Krystal’s view. You can tell she’s laughing at you internally with her devious grin. “I just wanted to say, Tzuyu isn’t my girlfriend. We’re just…” 

“Fooling around?” you didn’t mean for it to sound so sharp, but you wanted this conversation over. You have a job to do and Jungkook is your emotional barrier. 

You and Jungkook used to fool around. 

Jungkook winces, looking younger in his monkey suit. “I mean if you give me a chance to explain later—”  

“Nametag, let’s go newbie.” Krystal slaps on the sticker herself, a little too hard if she asked. She doesn’t even bother to write his full name, just a bright green Jeon JK, IT Management tacked on his breast pocket, clashing with the gold pocket square. 

“Sorry,” Jungkook tucks his tail in for now, bowing at you and Krystal as he scurries inside. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Krystal doesn’t bother to comfort you or ask what’s up—not that you want her to, even though you do want a breather before you have to go up on that stage and explain the itinerary for a week. The only thing you can do is smooth out your skirt, brush away the flyaways on your hairstyle and plaster a company-paid smile on your face.

The autopilot switch is on throughout the rest of the morning. Not just because Jungkook’s around, but the new position has got you on livewire. You’re glad that you’re not wearing base makeup because you are absolutely melting with all the high beam lights all up in your face as you talk through the week’s activities. 

You could swear Jungkook clapped a little harder than most once you stopped talking, but maybe it’s because you’re not used to seeing Jungkook in the very front of a lecture. In fact, he was a very hard middle person, preferring not to show off his intelligence and let other people lead the discussion. Then again, it’s been two years, you don’t know how much he’s changed. 

Jessica caps off the seminar with a great kick-off, the happy hour. The recruitment team picks a four star restaurant under their hotel so the recruits can enjoy themselves before going off to the training facility for a week. 

And by training facility, you also mean yet another four-star hotel. You knew you made the right decision by joining this company because the benefits are impeccable, and value personal enjoyment just as much as they value work ethic. In the morning you and the recruits will be driving uptown to a private resort where there would be classes in the morning, and recoup in the evening. You’re very much looking forward to the infinity pool on the roof. 

The recruits are ushered out as soon as you’re done, and that’s when you step out of the shadows to clean up the chairs and the brochures left behind. Thankfully Jungkook is probably following the norm and going back to the hotel to freshen up before dinner. Once the room is completely empty, you rip off your blazer and let yourself relax. 

It’s going to be a long week. 

Jeon: where u @?

You: hotel room

Jeon: why? Thought we were all gonna have dinner together

You: nahhh, this night is for the recruits! You’ll be tired of our faces by the end of the week, enjoy it while you can 😉  have a good night

You sigh in contentment, relaxing further into the silk sheets. You just finished your skincare routine, letting some mindless drama play as the essences and serums sink into your skin. All you want is one Jungkook-free night. Tomorrow you’ll be stuck training him and Tzuyu for the week and you want to take tonight to emotionally prepare yourself. 

Your phone rings once more. 

Big Baddie Jessica Jung: krystal and i ordered takeout in the restaurant downstairs. Can u bring it to our  room? Plsssssss 

Little Baddie Krystal Jung: it’ll be faster if you do it, we even got u a lil somethin🍰🍰🍰

Taking in your outfit, you grimace. You’re dressed for bed, a large nightie with your hair pulled back and a little pink bunny tie headband on top. Can’t they get room service to send it up? You admire your boss but you don’t understand why she needs to display her power over and over, she already knows you’ll follow her to the ends of the earth. 

Quickly slipping into a pair of sneakers you run down the expanse of the hotel. It’s easy to spot where the recruits are, livin’ it up in the large restaurant that takes up half the space of the ground floor. Most of them are pretty drunk, hoping to sleep off the hangover on the four-hour bus ride. You have absolutely no judgement, two years ago you were in the same position. 

Thankfully you don’t have to go far into the restaurant, as the hostess immediately knows Jessica’s order. While you wait for her to go into the kitchen and get it you drum your fingers against the counter, hoping no one notices you. It’s akin to when you’re a teacher in a mall, hoping none of your students gawk at you in the middle of Victoria’s Secret. 

“Ah, well Jungkook and I aren’t official yet—but very soon.” 

Your ears perk up at the sweet voice. Tzuyu is leaning across the open bar next to the counter, sipping on a mango mojito. She’s dumped the blazer for the night, showing off her soft skin and slender arms with a sleeveless cream blouse. 

“Then where is he?” another recruiter asks, gesturing to the expanse of the lobby. 

“He’s not much of a party person,” Tzuyu shrugs, tipping back her drink. 

You scoff, plastering on a smile to the hostess as you grab your bags and walk as fast as you can out of the lobby. You’ve never felt more like an old hag until now. Sure, most of the recruits are younger than you, but seeing Tzuyu talk so freely about her relationship with Jungkook has you in a bit of a spiral. The day of graduation, you told Jungkook not to wait for you. Heck, you’re only interested in the idea of what you could’ve had with Jungkook. 

These thoughts only cloud you further as you jab the elevator buttons all the way up to the suites where you and the Jungs reside. You relax a little when you see a strawberry cheesecake sitting prettily on the top of their order, your name written on the label with a little heart. Hanging their bag on the door handle of their room, you make your way back to your suite. 

You freeze when you see a floppy-haired Jungkook roaming the hallway, looking like a clueless child hobbling around in slippers and wide eyes at any sparkly item that decorates the area. It doesn’t even look like he tried attending the happy hour tonight, dressed in an impossibly big heather grey sweatsuit that swallows his form. 

“Are you lost?” you ask tentatively, as if you’re talking to a toddler lost at the mall. 

Jungkook relaxes considerably at the sound of your voice, and he replies, “Was tryna find your room since you didn’t reply to my texts.”

“So… you decided to check all the rooms?” 

“Yep,” he pops the p with a smack of his lips, “I figured the recruiters would be far away from the party so I started at the top. Thankfully I got to Jessica’s room first. Didn’t have to knock on too many doors. Only one old man got annoyed at me.” 

“You’re crazy,” you chuckle, slipping in your keycard to let Jungkook in. 

“Fuck, this room all to yourself?” 

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to kick his slides to a corner of the wall, flopping atop your bed and clutching your baby blue koala plush in his arms. The king sized bed is enough for his legs to stretch comfortably without falling off the edge, and he eagerly pads his feet against the soft fabric. 

It warms you to think that Jungkook is comfy enough to lay on your bed and hug your stuffed animals, a semblance of friends that you’ve missed for such a long time. Last year the team you worked for was great, you loved the people and even now you consider some of them friends. This year the team is a little smaller, and since your two other co-workers are sisters, it’s a little harder to nudge yourself in the direction of friendship. 

As soon as you sit down against the headboard, Jungkook’s eyes soften. Everything feels so different and the same. The threadbare pajamas that either of you haven’t had the heart to throw away since they’re so damn comfy, yet  your bodies are a little more worn and your eyes a little more droopier than usual. 

“So,” Jungkook bites his lip, not in the sexy way, but the nervous way, “about Tzuyu—”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to explain yourself,” you slump on your corner of the bed, regarding Jungkook with guilty eyes. “I really shouldn’t be feeling the way I’m feeling. It isn’t fair and I don’t want to jeopardize your internship.”

“And… what are you feeling?” 

“Dumb things.” 

“Your feelings aren’t dumb.”

“This time they are.”

“I’ve always shared my feelings, it’s unfair that you never want to share yours,” Jungkook sits up, criss-cross applesauce, pensive. “Maybe it’s my fault for not making you feel comfortable enough to share, but I feel like the reason why we never worked out was because we never tried hard enough to have a proper conversation.” 

How could you have missed all the indicators, all the good words, all the kindness Jungkook has given you that last semester? “You’re absolutely right,” you let your insecurities, your apprehensiveness, get in the way. You think in two years you’d do better to eradicate this kind of behavior, but lately you haven’t had many friends to express your feelings to. “Tell you what, I’ll work harder to express how I feel. No exchanges, no nothings. I owe you this.” 

“You owe me nothing,” Jungkook smiles, “I just think it would be nice to y’know, talk. As friends.” 

“Right, friends.”

“So, will you hear me out about Tzuyu?” 

“Let me open my cake,” you pull out your bag with the cheesecake, which thankfully has two spoons, “it seems like we’ll be having that kind of conversation.” 

Everyone is more amicable because of food. According to Jungkook, Tzuyu has a hardcore, ten-year plan for her twenties. After a couple of dates with Jungkook, Tzuyu whips him into the plan. Mentions that she’s well-bred and has a family reputation to uphold. Says IT Management is something completely desirable in a partner, that he’s sensible and wonderful and would like to be committed full-time. 

“And she talked to her parents about me and said that I’m a good prospect for marriage. Like I’m another pillar in her plan!” Jungkook cries, taking a monstrously sized bite of your cheesecake, wallowing away.

This is akin to sleepovers you’ve always wanted to have in high school, down to the food gorging. You can’t help but be fascinated, “So are you wrapped up in an engagement? Is this a scary rendition of Crazy Rich Asians?” 

“You just can’t turn a one-eighty like that on a fifth date,” Jungkook shakes his head, reeling at the emotional whiplash, “she’s really nice. Really organized, really perfect. It really intimidates me.”

“Is she what you reaaaally want?” you can’t help but ask, rolling your eyes at the excessive use of the word, and tamp down the pain in your stomach by eating a forkful of creamy cheesecake. 

“I don’t know!” Jungkook replies exasperatedly, “Obviously I’m worried since she wants to put a ring on it. I told her she needs to back off. Right after the seminar I said she had no right telling other people we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. She didn’t say much, just frowned and walked away.” 

You roll your eyes, scraping the leftover graham cracker crust from the edge of the plastic plate. “According to her, I heard you two are planning to make it official very soon.” 

His eyes widen, “I really bring girl trouble wherever I go, don’t I?” 

“Since I’ve known you,” you half-joke, putting away the plastic cutlery on the nightstand. 

You two sit in silence for a few moments, letting the television fill the room with mindless static about some sappy Hallmark movie. Tentatively, you land a hand on Jungkook’s knee. He looks down at your tiny fingers, giving his skin an experimental squeeze of comfort. 

“I don’t want her,” he finally says. 

“Okay,” you reply, “you won’t even have to talk to her if you don’t want to. I can arrange the groups this week so you don’t have to be around—”

“Give me one week,” his eyes flash to yours, dark and sharp.

“Jungkook. You have your determined face on,” it makes you sweat.  

“Because I’m determined to win you over, once and for all,” you eyes widen, and Jungkook visibly freezes, “was that too much? I’m kind of on an emotional high today. I didn’t expect to see you today and it kind of threw me into a loop. I thought I might be running into you once I started my internship but I didn’t think you’d be my recruiter. And then you went on that stage all bad-ass talking about work and you looked so gorgeous in your suit and I was so proud knowing you made it and IrealizedhowmuchImissedyou—” 

“Jungkook, slower,” you’re feeling a little woozy as well, equally overwhelmed. “You’re just saying this because you didn’t expect to see me—” 

“You’re deflecting, again.” 

“I’m scared, okay?” you blurt, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re right, this is all so sudden. So can’t we just start being friends and see if it takes us somewhere? You don’t have to win me over, just support me like I’ll support you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook moves up the bed, so he’s leaning against the headboard as well. His long legs stretch farther than yours, and it feels oddly domestic as you talk it out and stare at the television screen. “I’m just, worried I’m running out of time.” 

“I'm not going anywhere this time.” 

“I know,” Jungkook shakes his head, ridding himself of his torrid thoughts. Conceding, he gestures to the television, pulling out the remote under your pillow, “wanna watch television, or catch up?” 

You last about an hour until you knock out. However, Jungkook keeps you entertained up until that moment, as you exchange your lives and stresses. Everything meshes together, you’re not sure if it’s the charm that comes with late night talks, but you feel like you can talk to Jungkook about anything if given the time. You melt when he strokes your hair till the last minute, wishing you a goodnight and a promise of more. 

“Okay, I’ve gone over most of the work ethics in the manual,” you smile nervously when you see your glazed over recruits, nearly falling off their chairs. Even Krystal is bored out of her mind, discreetly playing with her phone in the back under her manual. Of course you’d get stuck with teaching the boring classes. “Any last minute questions before we head off for dinner?” 

Tzuyu shoots her hand up, “Are romantic relationships allowed in the workplace?” 

Jungkook promptly chokes on his water bottle. He looks up at you, panicked. Ignoring his terror, you paint on a thin smile towards the young woman, “Like I mentioned earlier, romantic relationships between employees are not frowned upon, so long as you’re not working under or over someone in the same department.” 

“Right, just wanted to make sure,” Tzuyu is all chipper smiles as she thanks you.  

If you were still twenty-one, you’d gag at the pointed look she sends Jungkook. They’re sitting diagonal from each other, and Jungkook makes a point to pretend to be interested in your lecture until the very end. 

You’re halfway done with recruitment week, and while you’re not shocked at how fast the week has gone by, you’re fairly disappointed that Jungkook and you haven’t had time to meet up in private. So far it’s been easy enough to keep your friendship (and past sexual relationship) a secret, but something dark and eager tells you how much you want more. The recruiters are eager to leave, all twenty-three of them grouping off and talking about what they want to eat for dinner. Everyone except a certain dark-haired fellow, who’s hair is currently bouncing off it’s styled coiff, wanting to return to it’s normal non-gelled self. 

“Kookie,” you raise a brow at the interaction, Tzuyu leaning over her chair to Jungkook’s, “wanna get dinner tonight?” 

Jungkook’s taking an excruciatingly long time to pack his things, raising a brow at her, “I’ve told you already, I don’t want to be involved in whatever plans you have.” 

“Oh-kay,” Tzuyu rocks back and forth on her oxford heels, pursing her magenta pink lips, “then why don’t we at least walk back to the hotel together? I really want to talk about some things that might change your mind.”

“Nothing will change my mind,” Jungkook’s determined face has been staying strong for the week, from the way he makes sure he’s first in your class to the simple “good morning” and “good night” texts you exchange. “Besides, I have a date tonight. And I really want to talk to the recruiters about a personal work matter, so can you please leave?”  

You try not to snort at how blatant Jungkook was being. You pretend to organize your folders, throwing whatever random notes you have in your bag for later. 

“A date,” she twitches,  “with who?” 

“Someone that doesn’t treat me like a stepping stone in her career path,” Jungkook deadpans, and that’s all it takes for Tzuyu to huff and walk away from the hall. 

You think Tzuyu is like a bug, relatively harmless, but someone who gets on your nerves. 

“A date, huh?” Krystal quotes, finally looking up from her phone. Her sharp, cat-eyes linger at the door, wondering if Tzuyu is going to pop out and try to drag Jungkook by the reins. Finally, she plants her stare between you and Jungkook. “So, you two fucking?” 

“Former fucking,” Jungkook supplies helpfully, and you jump off your podium to elbow him in the ribs, “ow—what?” 

“You just don’t tell Krystal we’re fucking!” 

“Former fucking,” he chastises, but the eyes he sends you are a little sultry, and you wonder if he’s thinking of fucking in the future. You reel yourself back, focusing on the third party.

But you anticipate that Krystal couldn’t care less, and you’re grateful for that. While a smaller work team means a smaller possibility of close work relationships, you do like the drama-free environment. “Like you said,” Krystal shrugs, slinging her briefcase over her shoulder, “romantic relationships in the workplace are not frowned upon.” 

You wring your hands between your bag when Krystal finally makes her getaway, and you look up at Jungkook. “So,” you smile wryly, “you have a date tonight, huh?” 

“With a pretty working woman,” he sighs dramatically, putting a hand over his chest, “that is, if she’ll have me.” 

“Consider yourself taken.”  

Jungkook and you sneak away to your suite once again. To your surprise, the suite is decorated in rose petals and a bottle of champagne sits in an ice bath on your bedside. A large pizza pie sits beautifully on your coffee table, and the television is playing lo-fi hip-hop. 

You feed Jungkook champagne-dipped strawberries as you gorge on the joy that is baked bread and cheese. 

And when he kisses you, it’s slow and sweet, like you have all the time in the world. 

It’s the last day of recruitment week, and all classes ended at noon so the interns can use all the resort’s amenities to the fullest. Many of the interns, including yourself, Jessica and Krystal, are on the rooftop celebrating a successful workweek. Staff and interns alike are buzzing around, eager to top off their weekend with some relaxation and sun. 

Jungkook is with his new team, conversing with other IT employees. You try not to stare too hard at your reignited flame, tipping back a cutely decorated glass of fruit. His arms ripple as he tips back the liquid. He’s wearing a tank top and you could swear his biceps have gotten meatier. Unfortunately you hold yourself back, after all the internship isn’t quite over and you still are a professional. 

At the end of the weekend you really have nothing to worry about, you know that. 

But Tzuyu? She irritating. 

“I just don’t understand,” Tzuyu suspects nothing of your budding relationship with Jungkook. You’re thankful for that because towards the end of the week, it was getting harder and harder to be subtle when you two send each other heart eyes from three meters away. 

Tzuyu sounds like she’s talking to herself, the way she stares into the infinity pool, despite the fact that her friends are surrounding her with rapt attention. You’re a cabana away from her, sipping languidly at your drink while Jessica and Krystal nap next to you. Even though you can’t see Tzuyu, you can practically feel her pout emanating through the fabric that separates you two. Despite the fact that she’s been offered a great intern position given her degree and experience, she’s still upset. For her, is that not the most important part of this whole week? 

“Jungkook’s really not that great if he’s going to turn me down like that,” Tzuyu seethes. You should write up her nonsense in a book and publish it, really. “Why waste time when he has the whole package right in front of him?” 

It’s then you realize why you’ve been so torn, so strung up and wound tight all these years. Just like college, all shy and hesitant to take a step forward while Jungkook was ten steps ahead, you were worried. You let other people’s thoughts stop you from making the leap, girls like Tzuyu that never meant to intimidate you, but you let their presence get up in your head and control the nonexistent hierarchy. 

But two years later, and that doesn’t matter. It never mattered. Jungkook is no longer the all-star lacrosse player, but what remains is his heart, full and willing. 

Everything Tzuyu just said was… wrong. Irrevocably, inexplicably messed up. But the idea of “wasting time” does strike a chord within you. Are you wasting time? At this point, your feelings of each other are pretty clear. What are you two waiting for, again? 

You thought Krystal was sleeping, considering her sunhat sitting atop her face, but once she hears you packing away your bag she whistles, “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 

Sending a quick text to Jungkook, you make a beeline for your destination. You don’t even bother looking for him in the crowd. 

You: meet me by the elevator at the very end of the lobby. 

Not a minute passes by when Jungkook joins you at said elevator. He has two glasses of champagne in his hands, and offers one to you, “tired of the party?” he asks.  

You clink drinks, easily tipping yours back. “It’s not our thing,” you declare with a small smile. Jungkook's eyes soften, glancing back and forth between your face and the soft pleats of your marigold sundress. His hair is pushed back, sticky from sweat and chlorine, dark bangs hanging over the shaved sides of his head. You turn your head slightly as you wait for the elevator, biting your lip as you're sorely reminded of how sexy Jungkook looked at the dive pool half an hour ago. 

The elevator dings, and it’s wide enough for you to slip in at the same time. You put your champagne glass in the corner of the elevator for now, hoping you don’t accidentally step on it. In closed quarters, you can smell the slight tang of chlorine coming from Jungkook, combined with his own brand of musk. 

Jungkook looks younger tonight, happier. Having just finished graduate school and working towards a full-time gig, another chapter in his life has started. His hair is no longer in that tight-whipped coiff he struggled all week to maintain, loosened in its natural wave due to the pool water and heat. His cheeks are a little ruddied and plump, a sign he’s been enjoying the food this week. 

The door barely closes when you get it out, pulling at his hand to face you.

“Jungkook, I like you,” you blurt, and his eyes bug out considerably. Out of reflex, his hand sharply squeezes yours. “You don’t have to say anything, because you’ve been saying everything for the majority of our relationship. I really like you, I really liked you back then too. You’re still so sweet, and loving, and smart and I’ve just been too dumb and insecure to—” 

Jungkook seals your confession away with a desperate kiss, and you turn into a pile of mush at the contact. Relief seeps into your bones, sings into your system. When he pulls away, he looks serious. He doesn’t let you get far, and clutches your face between his two hands so you can’t turn your head. Your soft cheeks fill between his fingers, warm and cradled. 

“Never call yourself that,” Jungkook exhales, regarding you with firm eyes, “you’re beautiful, and intelligent, and the person I want.” 

“I don’t wanna take it slow anymore,” you mumble against his lips, leaning in so that you can barely nip at the pink skin. “Want you now, need you now.” 

“You have me now,” Jungkook agrees, and as soon as the elevator dings open to your floor, he scoops you up into his arms. 

By all means it’s not graceful, he’s clutching you like a baby with his hands over your butt as he jiggles you all the way to your front door. Clinging onto him like a koala, you press kisses to his cheeks as he leads you to your room. You laugh and giggle like teenagers, as he fumbles between your breast to grab the card key that’s nestled between your bra. It’s warm in his hand as he swipes it through the reader, pushing you inside. 

“Is it bad that I’m kinda turned on by the fact you got my key out of my boob?” you joke, although the contact of his rough fingers against your breast is a feeling well missed. 

“Is it bad that I’m always turned on when you lecture in seminars?” Jungkook retorts, kicking the door closed with his slipper-clad foot as he walks you to the bed. “Fuck, I can hear you talk about insurance benefits all day.” 

“Didn’t know my sex appeal extended that way—oh fuck—” 

Your vibrant marigold sundresses provides easy access to Jungkook as he throws you onto the mattress, your skirt billowing over your waist as he makes quick work to expose more of your skin. 

“No more talking, more loving,” he’s crazed, doesn’t hesitate to move your bikini bottoms to the side as he rubs lovingly at your long-lost bud, “need to fuck you, now. It’s been so fucking long.” 

“Kook,” his breath is warm against your already sopping cunt, and you lift your hand to run through the strands of his messy hair. It only takes one firm tug and you’re able to pull him up by the root of his hair, cranberry juice tinted lips with a faint sheen because he couldn’t help himself to have a little taste of you. “Baby, let me touch you. Let me show you how much I want you," you coo with a pout, hands trailing over the drawstrings of his trunks.

You can see how much Jungkook wants to say yes. His eyes glow with the possibility, bright and wanting in the afternoon sunlight. The image of him shoving his cock deep into your throat, so far that you can taste it in every crevice of your mouth. Your nails gripping into his ass as you go deeper, tears pricking your eyes as cum seeps out of your pretty lips. 

But he firmly shakes his head, fingers doing the devil’s work as he eases a digit in you. A little noise of protest bubbles in your throat, but it soon dies out as soon as he finds the right spot to reduce you to mush. 

“Next time,” he exhales against the juncture between your thigh and pelvis, picking up the pace and adding another finger, “if you touch me, I’ll cum right then n’there. This is enough for me, you’re enough.” 

So you let him have what he wants. You’ll make it up to him in the morning, and the day after, and the day after. You shed your clothes, the sundress extra forgiving as it slides off your body, revealing a swimsuit that hasn’t even touched the pool. You feel a little self-conscious as he drinks you in after so long, but he quickly shucks off his clothes to match your state of nakedness. 

You remember how you tiptoed around your first night with Jungkook, taking great care to make sure it was fleeting, how dark the room was as you let your pleasure take over your senses. Two years later and the sun is setting, gold bleeding through your sheets and illuminating the room. There's no need to hide.

“I must say, we’ve both kept it tight,” Jungkook teases with a wink, squeezing your hips so he can change positions. 

You silently agree, your fingers slipping across the washboard of his waist. 

“Mm, and still so fuckin’ cute,” Jungkook marvels as he pulls you up on his lap. Your whole body is flushed with want, one hand squeezing your breasts while the other plays with the curls of hair that lead to your sopping wetness. You glide your core over Jungkook’s stomach, sighing as you take note of the abs that clench under your heat and his hot member that rubs between your ass. 

It’s a tight fit when you finally sink down on him, but the burn only fuels your desire as he stretches you wide. His grip is helpful as he guides you through the motions. It’s been awhile since you’ve been this physical with someone, and it’s almost comical when you both sigh in contentment at the contact. 

“I’ve missed this,” you mumble, biting into his shoulder as he thrusts up. 

“Mm, it feels different, right?” Jungkook hums, keeping a slow pace. The drag is wonderful, and you know that he’s trying to prolong the moment. He reaches for your head, presses his forehead to yours as he speaks, “you’re mine now, right? For real.” 

“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” you press kisses everywhere. No need to hide anymore. You bleed love into every kiss, to his jawline, the little freckles across his chin, his lips. “This is romantic and all, but I really want you to dick me down. Which is why you need to go a little faster, you sap.” 

Jungkook scoffs, “A pillow princess is what you are.” 

He stops moving, and you two sink further into the mattress without its springs bringing you back up. The both of you are acutely aware of how wet you both are, your combined arousals seeping between your seams and dripping onto Jungkook’s thighs. But the young man simply relaxes against the headboard, baiting you. 

“Kook,” you whine, clenching against his member. Your hot walls have a mind of their own, unable to stifle their desire. Sweat lines Jungkook’s brow as he tries his hardest not to move, just simply be. 

“Tell me how much you want me, princess,” the pet name has you clenching harder, and you pout. 

“Baby,” you whine, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. There’s no one in the room, and you’re sure no one is on this floor because everyone’s on the rooftop, but the words you’re about to say are for Jungkook and Jungkook only, “please, I want you to pound me into this mattress until I can’t walk anymore. I want to cry out your name so everyone can hear I’m yours. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you nip at his lobe, and let your thumb nick at the simple silver rings that adorn his ear. You hear a click of his teeth, indicating the clench of his jaw as his muscles flex around your body, "I want you to fill me with your cum until I’m eating it, and—and—oh Kook!” 

Your words aren’t enough to distract you from his large dick sitting prettily between your folds, and you’re suddenly cumming, all by the mere thought of what’s to happen. You’re shuddering in his arms, and Jungkook soothes you by running his fingers over the spine of your back, distracting you from the utter mess you’re making on the sheets. 

“Such a good girl,” Jungkook coddles you, stroking your hair, “can my good girl take it?” 

“Y-yes, Kook,” you nod eagerly, fighting the overstimulation as he nudges you off his lap. You’re pliable, as Jungkook sets up the pillows for you to rest comfortably as you get on your elbows and knees, “your good girl.” 

You shudder as your bare pussy starts to feel cold, immediately missing the warmth Jungkook can provide. You can practically feel his hot gaze burning in your back, his large palm squeezing your ass as he marvels at how ready and eager you are for him. 

“It’s so easy to slip inside,” Jungkook rubs your nectar across the head of his cock, swirling around your engorged skin as he slips right inside. You both moan at the stretch, “Finally, my adorable baby, you like this? You like getting pounded like the dirty girl you really are?” 

“Mm, yes!” you squeal, clutching onto the feather down pillows for dear life as Jungkook displays his strength, one hand gripping your hips as the other weaves itself into your hair. It’s a delicious mix of pleasure and pain, and the lewd sounds of each other’s juices and his balls against your ass echoing in the room. 

“Y-yeah,” despite his power, his thrusts are sloppy, and you know he’s almost at the edge, “and I like you, so so much. I want to make you cum everyday, make you happy and—mph—” he gives up on talking, focusing entirely on his destination. 

“Cum, baby,” you urge, melting when his one hand comes to thread with your own, “fill me up with you.” 

He flips you on your back, and you finally see how desperate Jungkook is to cum. His eyes are glassy, filled with emotion as he strokes himself to completion. Your hand reaches up to cup his damp face, and that’s when you feel him loosen. Hot, pearly strings cling to your pussy, decorating your skin in his essence. Your fingers immediately reach down to swirl the cum between your folds, and Jungkook groans at the picture, immediately throwing your hands to the side to kiss you senseless. 

There’s so much pouring between the two of you, affection, the feeling of being cherished, so much that you can feel the whole world reducing to the two of you. 

“All mine,” he whispers to himself, as if he still can’t believe it. And then, he puts up a poker face as he leans into you, resting his head gently on your breasts, “I knew I only needed a week.”

You narrow your eyes, flicking lightly at his forehead. You’re sticky, sweaty, and covered in cum and while you’re exhausted, the built in jacuzzi in your washroom looks very enticing right now. “Jungkook, this happened naturally. I said we would try as friends first and we did. We just so happened to escalate pretty fast.” 

“I don’t think it was that fast,” Jungkook nuzzles his face into your skin, “it’s been two years since college. Being popular did do a number on our relationship, but we caught up." 

“You were popular-ish,” you roll your eyes, teasing him. His face falls, and you can’t help yourself. Your hands reach over to cup his cheeks, and you happily squish the supple, pouty flesh. He’s adorable. “Kim Taehyung though? Park Jimin? Absolute heartthrobs I couldn’t stand to be near them—ah!” 

Jungkook seems to read your mind, lifting you bridal style to drag you over to the bathroom where the marble jacuzzi sits tauntingly. The stone is ice cold as he brings you both inside, immediately turning on the nozzles to fill it with steaming hot water. You find the tiny bottle of lavender suds, spilling the soap in an arc. His legs slip over yours, cradling you so that your back is pressed against Jungkook’s chest. 

“Being popular never mattered,” Jungkook shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “I realized the only person who I really needed to notice me was you.” 

bonus. 

You wake Jungkook up the next morning with your lips wrapped around his cock, fresh cherry balm rubbing down the thick veins until he's cumming down your throat. 

"Wow," Jungkook whistles, licking his lips at the sight of you sucking the arousal from your thumb. He huffs against the pillow, eyes darting to the open organza window, letting in the early morning light. The rooftop of a multi-star hotel, white Egyptian cotton seats, a full time job on the way and waking up in the most blissful way possible. 

"I have a proposal," you crawl on top of him like a koala, hooking your thighs between his blanket clad body. 

"I do," he replies instantly, looking straight at you with droopy puppy eyes.

"Not that kind," you slap his chest, "where are you living once orientation is over?" 

"Mm, there's a boarding house near a local translation. It's probably an hour commute? Not too bad." 

"So, I just leased a townhouse last month," you bite your lip, tucking your head between his neck to hide your embarrassment, "I was gonna rent out the spare room and put an advert in the paper but…"

"I do."

"I said it isn't a marriage proposal."

"Asking you to live with me is basically a marriage proposal."

"There will be no benefits," you sit up, wagging a finger in his face, "you'll be paying rent and half the utilities. And you will be doing all the laundry." 

"Sure," Jungkook replies loftily, squeezing your ass, "you're benefit enough." 

[luminouspoes]

After Poe being tortured by Kylo Ren in TFA, he would have some kind of PTSD.... So I was thinking can you write about Poe having nightmares about that, and the reader comforting him? Just pure fluff

Warnings: some references to Poe’s torture/nightmares & PTSD 

It’s well past midnight when you shuffle into the shipyard, a sweater tucked around you and a toolkit hung around your hips. You couldn’t sleep, so you figure it would be a good time to get ahead on some of the repairs you needed to do tomorrow, which included some minor repairs on Poe’s newest ship.

He hadn’t crashed it or gotten it blown up yet, which you supposed was an improvement, the most damage his X-Wing sustained in his last mission was some blown fuses and carbon scoring. 

You’re surprised to already find a technician’s ladder rolled up against the hull of the ship when you arrive. You glance around, but find that the Resistance base is surprisingly quiet, save the sounds of wildlife emitting from Ajan Kloss’ jungles. You step up on the ladder and clamber up to the top, where you find Poe Dameron asleep in the cockpit.

His head is tilted back against the headrest like he fell asleep looking up at the stars - which he probably did - and while the sight is certainly endearing, he doesn’t seem to be sleeping well. His expression is screwed up and he’s fidgeting in his seat quite a bit. Worried, you rap your knuckles against the closed window to get his attention. It works - a little too well because Poe jolts upright abruptly and slams his head into the roof.

You wince apologetically as his eyes fall on you. His eyes soften around the corners, and he presses the switch to unlock the ship’s canopy as he runs a hand over his sore head. You push up on the canopy so you can rest your arms just on the edge, then you lean forward. “You’ve got to stop falling asleep out here, Dameron.”

“Well, at least I sleep,” Poe says defensively. “I’m not sure that you do, as many times as you keep finding me out here.”

“Insomnia is my best friend,” you retort wryly, stepping down the rungs when Poe goes to stand up. You hop down instead of taking the last couple of steps, then steady the ladder as Poe steps onto it. Instead of doing the civilized thing and walking down, Poe just grips the handlebars and slides down till his feet land on the soft grass beside you. 

“Which I’m sure has nothing to do with the amount of caf you inhale.”

You skirt around his crack about your caf addiction. “So what’s your excuse for sleeping in this thing and not - oh, I don’t know - your quarters?”

He doesn’t meet your gaze, instead, his dark brown eyes sweep back up to the canopy of stars above. “The stars calm me down.”

You sidle up closer to him, following his gaze. There are thousands of glittering stars, too many to take in all at once. You’re tempted to point out a few systems you think you recognize, but you remain quiet because looking up makes everything on the ground fall to the wayside, and you kind of want to embrace that.

“You’re still having nightmares?” You finally ask, sliding your gaze from the sky to the star standing beside you. There really is no other way to describe Poe, in your mind. He’s a bright light in the middle of all this darkness, with an irresistible gravitational pull that brings people together. 

“Yeah.” He admits, voice rough. His content expression slips to a pained one. “They were starting to go away, I don’t get why they’re so much worse recently.”

You step around in front of him, taking his face in your hands. “Trauma’s not a straight line, anything could have triggered them. A recent mission, the way someone phrased something, general anxiety -” you brush your thumb along his cheekbone where you can just barely make out the faint outline of a scar - “Which there’s plenty of, anymore.”

Poe hums in acknowledgment, catching your wrist and bringing your hands down. He doesn’t let go though, instead, he pinches the fabric of the sweater as he thinks. “Outta all the things I’ve seen, I can’t believe I let that brute get to me most of all.”

You shake your head. “Nope, we’re not doing that.” You press a kiss to his nose, which he scrunches his face up at, ticklish. “You didn’t let him do anything, that’s not how this works.”

“How does this work, then?” Poe asks, sounding both genuinely curious and frustrated.

“It works by you not blaming yourself for your trauma.” You reply with ease. “You’re already doing well.”

“How so, doc?”

You tip backward and make a sweeping gesture towards the sky. “You found something to calm yourself down, enough to sleep by.”

“Not very well,” Poe admits as he rubs the back of his neck. “I was having another nightmare when you showed up, and besides...falling asleep in an X-Wing isn’t the most reliable way to catch up on sleep.”

You look down sheepishly, trying to muster up the courage to say what you're thinking. “You could, um, stay with me. If you want.” There's a leaf just by the toe of your boot with a fascinating set of bright orange veins that pop against the dull yellow of the leaf, so you stare at it as your question is met with a beat of silence.

“In your quarters?”

“No, in the X-Wing.” You retort sardonically. You fix Poe with a well, duh expression. “Yes, my quarters. I don't sleep well at night anyway, so you could...lay down and if I notice anything bothering you, I can wake you up.”

You entirely expect him to decline, but instead, he asks, “You wouldn't mind?”

“You're my friend, of course, I wouldn't mind.” You reply, cheeks warming. “Besides the Resistance needs its favorite commander well-rested.” 

“Are you sure it's the Resistance's favorite commander and not yours?” Poe asks with a tiny smile, and you swat at his arm. He dodges easily, catching your hand again, but this time he tugs you forward. You stumble against him, one hand landing on his chest as he looks down at you with a soft expression. 

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a warm embrace, his chin resting on the crown of your head. Despite your hammering heart, you melt instantly against him. Few people gave hugs like Poe Dameron did.

“Thank you.” He murmurs faintly as he moves his head to press a kiss to your hairline. 

“Always.” You say when he draws back. You extend your hand to him, wiggling your fingers slightly. Poe chuckles, takes your hand, and you lead him back to your quarters. 

You don't pass anyone on the way there, which is fine by you and by Poe too, you're sure, but by the time you're stepping into your room with Poe hanging sheepishly behind your heels, a wave of exhaustion has hit you. Still, you're true to your word, so you motion at the mattress. “Have at it,” you tell him as you move toward your desk. 

Poe doesn't even pull down the duvet, just toes off his shoes and sits gingerly on the edge of the bed like he's afraid he'll break it. “You sure about this? I don't like the idea of you staying up all night to make sure I sleep. Where'd we be if one of Rose's best techs were falling asleep on the job cos of me?”

“I told you, I'm not even tired -” you hide a yawn behind your hand and cough, but Poe's eyebrow shoots upward so you know you've been caught - “I mean, I'm tired, but not enough to sleep.”

Poe leans forward off the bed, grabbing you by the sleeve of your sweater, and gently tugs you forward. You could hold your ground if you want, but you shuffle forward anyway, a tiny smile tugging at your lips. 

“You need your rest too, you know. I can always sleep on the floor or go back to my quarters.” 

“You're not sleeping on my floor.” You scoff, “And I think we've already established that you’re having trouble sleeping in your quarters.”

“The X-Wing is always available.” 

“Or we could just share the bed.” You don't mean to say it aloud - you don't think - but it slips out anyway. Part of you flounders, but it's overridden by your concern for his screwed up sleep schedule, so you continue on, “It's not like we haven't fallen asleep together before.”

Those times were different and you know it - falling asleep huddled together over datapads in the corner of the debriefing room was totally different than dozing off in the same bed.

Poe stands up and you start to think he’s going to leave, but instead, he gestures at the bed. “Pick your side.”

“Really?” You ask, moving to your favored side, closest to the wall. Unlike Poe, you yank the duvet down and snuggle in before patting the space next to you. He climbs on just as warily as before, feet kicked over the blanket.

“I figured there was a 50/50 shot of me finding you asleep outside my door if I tried to leave,” Poe says with a light smile and you whack him with one of the bed pillows. He isn’t wrong, you’re well-known around the base for your dedication to looking out for your friends, and that sounds...exactly like what you were planning to do if he wasn’t going to stick around.

He settles on the bed beside you, a low sigh escaping his lips as he stares up at the ceiling. You twist onto your side, propping your head up with your elbow. “Poe?”

He hums in response, not immediately taking his eyes off the ceiling. 

“It’s okay to be afraid, you know.” 

He turns his head to look down at you softly. “I know, I just...wish I wasn’t.”

You seek out his hand in the dark. As soon as you find it, you thread your fingers together. You wish none of this happened, it makes you angry when you think about it. “No one wants to be afraid, but it’s okay. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”

“Everyone’s counting on me. Leia’s counting on me.” 

“You really think the General doesn’t have nightmares either?” You counter. His gaze flicks back up to meet yours. You shift again, scooting a little closer. “Rey’s mentioned having nightmares, so has Finn. Even Jess has them, you know that better than anyone. People are all counting on them, so what makes you so different?”

“I just...don’t wanna let her down.” He’s talking about Leia, you realize.

You shake your head. “Poe Dameron, that’s impossible. No one understands the General quite like you do.” You bump your knee against his side, “I’m pretty sure no one understands you quite like the General does.”

“I don’t know about that.” Poe chuckles and looks back up at the ceiling. “There’s this person who always seems to know what I’m thinking.”

“Oh? What are they like, then, have I met them?”

“Probably. They’re a technician. One of Rose’s best, actually. Chewed me up one side and down the other for strapping experimental tech onto Black One before it got destroyed. Usually drags me to bed when they find me out cold in an X-Wing.”

Your cheeks warm. “They sound like a handful.”

“They are,” Poe agrees and you resist the urge to swat him with a pillow. “Stubborn like you wouldn’t believe, strong sense of justice, has an even bigger heart and will do anything for the people they care about. They’re a damn good friend - even if they keep their room below freezing -” he emphasizes this last part by finally ducking under the blankets and you bark out a laugh.

“It’s not that cold.” 

“Oh, yes it is,” Poe argues with a shiver. You roll your eyes and settle back into your pillow as he settles on his side, his back to you.

After a long moment of silence, you say, “Hey, Poe?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re a damn good friend, too.”

You’re met with a sheepish laugh, and you cautiously throw an arm around his torso. He doesn’t react for a minute, but just as you’re about to pull away, he wraps his hand around yours and pulls it up to his chest. You smile and awkwardly move closer, burying your face in between his shoulder blades.

It doesn’t take long for his breathing to even out, but you stay up for a while longer to make sure he’s in a steady sleep, but for the first time all evening, he seems relaxed and peaceful, so you close your eyes and murmur against his shirt, “G’night, flyboy.” 

[theevangelion]

Red Bottom: Red Kryptonite D/S Supercorp Story (Complete)

Prompt Fill for Gabs: Redk!Kara wanting it fast and hard and lena fucking her gently until she's in tears? With lots of praise kink pls

*OR*

Under the effects of Red Kryptonite, Kara has to be kept somewhere secure. The L-Corp Laboratory is about the only location with enough lead lining to hide her heat signature while the DEO worries about bigger threats. Kara’s frustrated arousal and darkened mood is nothing compared to her girlfriend, Lena Luthor’s.

There’s a dark and evil side lurking inside Lena too. Always there, always out of sight. With Kara under the influence of the Red Kryptonite, Lena finds herself indulging in her own primal dark side in order to quell Kara’s own.

“Again?” Lena’s eyes fly wide open at the DEO circus.

“The red kryptonite particles went up with the explosion last week,” Alex says, overseeing the transfer of her sedated sister to the secure L-Corp laboratory. “And what goes up must come down. Jesus, I can’t believe we didn’t account for the rain.”

“Wouldn’t she be safer at DEO headquarters? It’s just, her safety should be the priority.” Lena doesn’t want to seem too eager to palm off her girlfriend.

“If the DEO headquarters were still secret, sure.” Alex rubs her temple, now suddenly thinking of other problems.

Her hazel eyes find Lena with a sense of exhaustion, as though there are too many things being juggled in the air and she needs someone to take Kara out of the equation.

Alex continues, “The League caught intel about our security protocols. Ironically, the one place Lex will probably not look is the place right beneath his nose. The building has enough lead-lining to hide her heat signature?”

“More than enough,” Lena confirms.

“Well,” Alex pats the chief executive’s shoulder. “I’ll call you tonight, and I’ll leave her in your capable hands for a few days.”

Lena laughs suddenly, the uncomfortable noise barely escaping through her tight teeth. “Please don’t.” She eyes Alex cautiously. “Just maybe let’s workshop this idea—”

“It will be fine,” Alex promises. “Just don’t listen to her, put your headphones in, think of it as babysitting duty. I’ll owe you one, big time.” Alex stares as though she means it regardless of the complications it might cause later down the line.

An unconditional favour from one of the higher-ups in the chain of command at the Department of Extranormal Operations… That could certainly come in handy one day.

“Not the holding cell. Put her in the observation suite, the glass is resistant to her heat vision.” Lena points to the clear glass room opposite the laboratory. “Extra restraints, green kryptonite lamps—”

“Green kryptonite could kill her,” Alex balks.

“In larger quantities, sure.” Lena nods. “In a smaller, medicinal dosage it nullifies her power for a short time. Like the small amount emitted by the kryptonite lamps your tech team developed last year in the event of…” Lena pauses, quirking her crimson lips as she searches for the right word. “Something unexpected.” Alex instantly closes her eyes. “Bring them, bring all of the equipment. And extra restraints too, please.”

“Why extra restraints?” Alex lifts her brow, confused.

Lena rolls her eyes, then turns to her personal assistant. “Jesse, clear my entire schedule from now until Tuesday. Alex, trust me, I’m doing you a favour, but I need the restraints and the kryptonite lamps. For my safety, you understand?” She glances at her girlfriend’s sister.

“Whatever you need, Lena.” Alex doesn’t ask further.

***

Kara awakes slowly and feels the tension in her arms. They’re captured around her ribcage, as though she is trapped in a suffocating hug. She shifts her shoulders, wiggling, unable to get herself loose from the poor, rough excuse for a blanket that has entwined her.

“You’ll forgive me for being cautious,” Lena says through the speaker. “It’s for your safety, mostly.”

Kara opens her eyes and simultaneously rolls them when she sees the applied restraints. Her arms are secured in a white strait-jacket, the tan leather straps buckled tightly, with another strap of leather secured between her nude legs to stop her wiggling out of it.

“For my safety or yours?” Kara flexes against the strait-jacket.

“Alright,” Lena levels seriously over the speaker. “For mine then.”

The strait-jacket isn’t torn to pieces when Kara flexes a second time, which strikes her as strange. She wiggles again, harder, flexing, stretching her arms as far as she can against the secured sleeves.

“Sorry baby,” Lena says, walking in to view as she stops in front of the glass door that separates them. “Another precaution. I can survive your bad mood, but only when we level the playing field.” Her emerald eyes glance to the industrial spotlights that emanate a low, dark green colour over the observation suite.

Green Kryptonite.

“If you think there’s such a big bad monster lurking inside of me—” Kara stops, heaving furious breaths. “Why risk it the other three-hundred and sixty-four days a year? Am I not capable of tearing you apart then, if I wanted to?”

“There is always a monster lurking inside of you, baby.” Lena folds her arms over her black cashmere sweater. “But you are the strongest, most level-headed woman I know. You would never let it hurt anyone.” Her eyes flicker with love. “The other days of the year, of course.” She pushes a small smile, but then it disappears as she dips her head.

Kara narrows her eyes. “Oh, you want to talk about monsters, Lena?” She can’t help but laugh.

“Not particularly.”

“Because you know the one that claws inside of your ribcage is so much more violent and hungry than mine.”

“Don’t do this, please,” Lena pleads. “I know you can’t help it, but could you… try and help it?”

“Sad, poor, angry little girl—lost and unlovable,” Kara scoffs, her lips forming an angry smirk. “How does it feel knowing that I am the only one capable of loving a creature as tortured as you?”

Lena’s mouth twitches almost imperceptibly.

Her face is beautiful and smooth like porcelain, but her eyes are utterly empty and her jaw flexes with the tiniest slip of anger. To Kara, she is still beautiful, still the finest human she has ever met, a bride to be made fit for House of El yet.

It’s simply a case of subjugating her first, Kara thinks. To teach Lena who exactly her better half is, metaphorically and literally speaking.

“You’re still pretty when you want to cry,” Kara says coldly, unbothered and unconcerned. “You should know that.”

“Funny,” Lena doesn’t skip a beat, her tone equally cold. “I’ve always thought the same of you.”

There’s a flash, a tiny strike of lightning. It hits Kara right in her belly and sends her flying backwards. The pain is the least of her concerns. She doesn’t understand what it was. Kara pants and opens her eyes, curled in the corner of the glass cage with a tight grimace.

“For my safety,” Lena explains, lifting the remote that controls the shock pulses. “In case I feel threatened.” She smirks slightly.

“You always feel threatened,” Kara laughs despite the painful ripples in her body from the electric shock. “Always threatened by other powerful women, always worried you’re too small, too unimportant, too weak to compete—”

“Whoops.” The powerful shock hits Kara again and makes her whimper. It leaves her crumpled and curling, sweating and gritting her teeth. “My finger slipped,” Lena says, unamused.

Despite the red kryptonite, despite the hubris it imbues her with, she is completely defenseless and that only compounds her anger. Kara wrangles as hard as she can, until she nearly dislocates her shoulder trying to get free from the pathetic little strait-jacket that on any ordinary day could be ripped apart with a sneeze.

The door alarm rings out. Lena steps inside the lion’s den, her Blahnik heels clicking quickly over the cold hard floor. Kara refuses to look at her, she tucks her sweaty head away as the pencil skirt gracefully bends at the knees to appraise her closer, as though she is some kind of small animal.

“See,” Lena whispers quietly, moving the damp blonde hair off her face. “Still so pretty when you want to cry, baby, I told you.”

“Don’t start a war you cannot win, Lena,” Kara growls with gravel in her throat. “I will still have my power and might when the weekend is out, and you—”

“Will still have mine, too.” Lena slips her hand over Kara’s bottom, pulling the curled up little monster close like a pet to be made tame. “Why don’t you be a good girl and let that nasty tongue of yours rest. I don’t want to sedate you. There is so much more productive fun to be had when you’re awake.”

Kara’s ears lift at that.

“Fun?” She looks at Lena with a craned eyebrow.

Lena looks different. Kara isn’t sure whether it’s the effect of the red kryptonite, or whether her girlfriend has always had that air of cruel arrogance and she’s only just noticing it now. But Lena’s eyes glean her as though she’s a wolfish little whore, a thing to conquer. Her crimson lips pull into a small smirk.

“Fun for me, yes.” Lena pets her damp, long blonde hair softly. “The way I see it, Kara Danvers, is that I’m going to marry you one day. That means for better or worse. And, if I can’t find a way to handle you at your worst—” Kara hisses when slender fingers yank her hair tight in a tight fistful. “Then what business do I have enjoying you at your best?” Their eyes lock seriously.

“You think this is me at my worst?” Kara’s eyes grow wide with indignation. “Oh just you wait. The Hell I will reign down upon you—” Material is quickly stuffed inside her open mouth as gag, stifling the threats.

The material is slightly damp, heady almost, the feminine taste that is so distinctly Lena Luthor coats Kara’s tongue… Kara realises that this isn’t a traditional gag.

“Hold my panties for me like a good girl,” Lena whispers and stuffs them a little deeper into her mouth. “Don’t spit them out, otherwise I’m going to push them in another hole. And believe me, I have such better, bigger plans for your pretty tight holes…” Her manicured fingers slipped over the tanned leather strap between Kara’s sweating thighs.

When Kara’s blue eyes fly open in surprise, the question doesn’t even need to be uttered. Lena can practically read her mind. The executive peers down at her with a loving smile, her palms gently taking each side of her face and cradling it close to her own.

“The red kryptonite cannot be chemically neutralised. That means I need to find another way to control you when you’re… under the influence of dangerous substances.” Lena trails her hand through Kara’s long hair, her nails dragging and gathering it neatly. “That means I need to condition you to see me as your handler, to prevent my brother ever using the red kryptonite compound as a weapon.”

“My handler?” Kara scoffs through the panties between her teeth, laughing. “You couldn’t handle a guinea pig without help—” The sentence is slapped out of her mouth, hard.

“Your ears work, how reassuring.” Lena remains blank-faced. “Now, come with me, let’s see how reward-motivated you can be, little one.”

The fingers entwined in the back of her scalp tug, pull, coax her to follow on her knees across the glass room towards a desk with a laptop on top of it in the corner. There’s a soft, plush cushion beside the chair. Kara realises too late what exactly her girlfriend has planned.

“No, no.” Lena stops when Kara stops, glancing down at the ravenous little creature digging her feet into the floor. “Wouldn’t you rather feel good, sweetheart?” She swiftly takes the panties out of her mouth.

Kara thinks, too optimistically, that it’s so she can reply clearly.

Instantaneously, Kara feels all of her muscles tighten at once. Something has started vibrating inside of her—quite literally, vibrating inside of her—it’s pressed deep inside of her folds, right behind her clit against that perfect spot that made her cunt feel tight and hot. The panties were removed from her mouth so they weren’t a choking hazard, she realises.

Then, it dwindles away to nothing.

“I am going to hurt you in ways you cannot fathom,” Kara growls furiously at the denial of her pleasure.

“No, you’re not.” Lena cranes down and pecks her temple. “Because I will crush you before you ever get the chance, little girl,” her soft voice becomes a stern tone against the ear, the responsive slither of crimson red kryptonite emanating from Kara’s temple not going unnoticed.

The moment Kara snatches at Lena’s throat with her teeth—she is made to learn the hard way around why it’s a regrettable idea.

A sudden shock of electricity hits her, but not externally, this time it’s deep inside of her cunt, attacking the back of her clit with needle-like precision. It hits her so hard that Kara squeals and releases Lena’s throat before the slightest amount of pressure can be applied with her teeth.

Unlike the earlier electric shock, this one is prolonged and hateful almost. Kara curls on her side and cries, clenching her thighs, yelping like a wounded little animal. Lena stands over her calmly, hands clasped in front of her neat black pencil skirt while her thumb continues to press the remote control.

“Please!” Kara squeals. “Please make it stop!”

“Good girl,” Lena whispers and lifts her thumb off the trigger. “Manners will get you everywhere, sweetheart. I would advise that you don’t ever try to hurt me, otherwise I will have to rectify the situation with some sense of equalism. You understand?”

“Yes,” Kara spits the affirmation between her clenching teeth.

“Yes Ma’am,” Lena insists.

“You have lost your soft little fucking mind if you think—” Kara wails a sharp sob that cuts her off, squirming her thighs together again as a small jolt hits her deep in the back of the cunt.

“When you’re like this, Kara, I don’t see my girlfriend,” Lena says firm. “My sweet, gentle, strong Supergirl... She would never try to hurt me, would never hurt a fly even. But you?” Her tone is suddenly accusatory. “You are not my Kara. You are the monster that lurks beneath the surface, and you will kneel and be made tame or you will be crushed into dust. I’m not your girlfriend, your little human, or your subordinate. I am the only authority in your tiny fucking insular world and you will obey me.” It isn’t posed as a question, simply posited as fact.

“We’ll see about that, Ma’am,” Kara growls sarcastically.

“Good girl,” Lena’s tone is suddenly praising, her eyes narrowing with pleased surprise. “You don’t have to enjoy saying it, baby, you just have to do as you’re told.”

Instinctively, Kara wants to protest and be difficult. But whatever Lena has buried deep inside of her cunt…it begins to strangely swell, filling her, vibrating and pulsing against her slick hot folds in a way that is entirely pleasurable. Kara understands too late what game they’re playing. Lena is operantly conditioning her. A game of punishment and reward.

The corner of Kara’s vision glitters, almost. The red kryptonite heightens everything, her emotions, her mood, her aggression, and apparently her arousal too. The wolfish creature can’t help but gasp, closing her eyes and unable to form coherent words.

“I think that’s enough baby,” Lena whispers softly.

Slowly, the strange new toy inside of her cunt recedes in size and slows its vibrations. It feels like a knot growing smaller, then a love egg, then it’s too small to be descriptively felt any more. Kara can still tell something is inside of her but it’s the smallest, most inoffensive intrusion. There, but not there, like a tiny pill-sized probe of sorts.

Kara glances down to the  leather strap buckled tight over her slit. She had assumed it was there to stop her slipping out of the strait-jacket, but Kara now understood it was also there to keep something buried inside of her.

Kara shifts slowly on the floor, twisting her hips, trying to feel out the sensations in her body that no longer seemed to exist without Lena deciding they should. It makes the chief executive smile this wolfish, chipper grin that looks strange on her usually dour face. Her beaming white teeth are on display with the breadth of her smile.

She looks beautiful, Kara can’t help but notice.

“What-” Kara blinks, completely confused. “What did you put inside of me?”

“A very, very special toy.” Lena gently takes her by the chin, guiding her shying face to meet her authoritative eyes. “I made it especially for you, though the punishment features were certainly a last-minute revision. If you’re a very, very good girl I’ll show you just how nice it feels when I decide that it should.”

“And if I’m not a good girl?” Kara lifts her brow defiantly. “If I don’t want to be your unconsenting little fucking pet slave?”

At that Lena’s eyes widen slightly.

“Baby,” Lena whispers with a knitted brow, her voice slow and loving. “I’m trying to help you here. The green kryptonite—” She nods at the deep green spotlights that cast the room in dark shadows. “I don’t know how much exposure is lethal, but I know that if you ever posed a risk to the general public then the DEO would ask questions later after they had put you down like a feral animal.” The theoretical possibility seems to make Lena tight with worry. “You don’t have to like this. It’s non-lethal, it’s for your own good, and my Kara would perfectly understand why it was necessary.”

“Then your Kara is a submissive little whore, and you probably know as much.” Kara glares at the unshakeable human she had underestimated.

Lena tucks a long weft of blonde hair behind Kara’s ear.

“Come along,” Lena instructs, turning on her heels to walk to the desk in the corner of the room. “You can either come willingly or I will give you a damn good reason to regret being so difficult.”

***

To Lena’s surprise, Kara did as she was told. Lena sat down in the chair and opened the laptop, her thumb on the shock button, ready to hit her girlfriend where it hurt once she reached zero on her mental countdown from ten.

But Kara crawls forward as best she can like a wounded little animal, her arms secured by the strait-jacket, her cheek pressed to the floor as she pushes forward indignantly on her knees.

The miracle happened. The pigs flew over the sky. The chickens had come home to roost. Lena felt her smile widen proudly, her fingers slipping around Kara’s neck and tickling the nape.

“Good girl,” Lena hushes, then she slips her hand around Kara’s jaw and brings her cheek to her lap. “There you go, just kneel there and show me you can be good.”

Lena rewards her in tangible, felt ways. The bullet-like toy inside of her cunt was activated with the remote, Lena’s thumb slipping over the control trigger to increase the swell in size, then the vibrations too.

Lena kept it on the minimal settings, flexing her thumb back and forth, giving her girlfriend just enough to coax her submission. She imagined that it probably felt like a pulse inside of her tight slick cunt, a pressure that grew and pressed into the back of her g-spot with delicious accuracy, then receded into nothing.

“Say thank you, princess.” Lena idly traces her fingertips on the panting jaw pressing to her thigh.

“Go fuck yourself you arrogant, precious little cunt.”

Lena just closes her eyes and presses the button.

Tense and tight and squealing, the wolfish little creature slumps to the floor and wrestles against the strait-jackets straps. Lena opens her eyes and peers down at her, guilty, curious, aroused beyond words and not ready to take her thumb off the trigger yet.

“Please!” Kara yelps with tears streaming down her red cheeks. “I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry, what?” Lena lifts her eyebrow, waiting for the appellation.

“Oh go fuck yourself—” Kara regrets it instantly.

It was thrilling to bring a god to her squealing, tightly curled-up kneels. Lena knows it’s wrong, that it’s villainous in all the ways she holds herself to be morally higher than. But all Kara has to do is be polite, it really isn’t that hard. She increases the electricity until it feels like a thousand tiny needles digging and prodding, Lena has no doubts about it.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am!” Kara sobs. “Please make it stop, I’m sorry!”

“Good girl,” Lena hushes and takes her thumb off the trigger. “There’s a good, good girl.” She pets her long damp hair. “See, it isn’t that hard baby. You just have to do as you’re told, you just have to be a good girl.”

Lena replaces the pain with a flood of pleasure. It takes her girlfriend off her centre of gravity. Kara slumps again, her toes flexing and curling, her belly tightening until she is curling like a little kitten. Lena makes sure to show the submission an abundance of reward, her thumb flies upward on the control trigger and gives Kara a brief taste of how good obedience can truly feel.

The toy swells so big and wide inside of Kara that her weeping baby blues fly open, entire constellations mapped in the whites of her eyes. The vibrations are so powerful that Lena can hear them — thrumming, pulsing, mechanically growling away like a revving engine. She brings Kara down slowly, gently, backing her away from the cliff edge of a quick hard orgasm.

“Please!” Kara whines and brings her cheek back to Lena’s lap, kissing and digging her nose into the top of the chief executive’s thigh. “I’ll be good, I’ll behave, please just let me cum.”

“I think I’ll leave you right here.” Lena settles on a low, gentle vibration setting — enough that Kara can feel it stirring her orgasm, but not enough to push her over the edge. “If you’re still being a good girl by the time I’ve finished my ordinance paperwork, we can revisit things.”

“Please,” Kara whimpers, her voice barely a choking whisper. “Please, please, please—” She buries her face into Lena’s lap.

Lena ignores it and gets on with her tasks. It takes longer than it usually does, she’s more aware of the ticking time. The panting little mouth pressing to her thigh whimpers and moans, but Kara’s face is entirely slack and resting on the leg as though she has no energy to hold it up of her own volition.

“Please Ma’am,” Kara whimpers, “Please, Ma’am, make it feel good.”

Lena says nothing, offers nothing in response, but she pushes the trigger upwards and increases the vibrations and swelling size of the toy, incrementally and almost procedural. Then, she clicks into her emails for a quick update on the minute notes from the meeting she missed.

Ten minutes pass, if that.

“I need to cum,” Kara pants. “Please?”

“No.”

“Please Ma’am!”

“I said no—ow!” Lena glances down to where Kara had nipped her with teeth, hard. “What did I tell you?” Lena asks calmly, her fingers catching the shying chin. “I was fair, I warned you Kara, all you have to do is be a good girl and do as I tell you to.”

“Please no more shocks, I’m sorry—I didn’t, I didn’t mean to!”

“I’m not going to shock you,” Lena says reassuringly, closing the laptop lid. “You want to be fucked? You want to be pleasured? I’m going to show you exactly why you wait for my freely-given permission. You think this is degrading? Oh baby, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

***

Kara cries so hard it makes the veins in her throat bulge and stick out. Her legs thrash and kick, her arms wrangling desperately against the tight, taut sleeves of the jacket. Externally, it looked as though she might be in the worst pain one woman could possibly experience. Lena almost felt guilty. But, Kara wasn’t in pain.

She was in terminal pleasure.

“Spread your legs,” Lena only has to whisper the instruction.

Kara does as she’s told instantly, as best she can, opening her shaking legs as far and wide as she possibly can. Her cunt is pink and swollen against the wet leather strap, bucking desperately for an orgasm she isn’t permitted to have.

Whenever she gets too close, Lena dials the toy down—or gives her a tiny shock—depending on whichever is necessary to keep her an obedient and well-behaved girl.

“What a pretty girl,” Lena croons, brow furrowing deeply as she leaned against her chair and crossed her leg. “Tell me again, what are the rules baby?”

“I do as I’m told,” Kara pants. “That’s all I have to do, exactly as I’m told to do.”

“You’re such a good, obedient little girl.” Lena dials up her vibrations almost imperceptibly. “I wanted to break you in gently, Kara, but if you need to be brought under the thumb with ruthless efficiency then that works for me too. Come, hump my foot like a good pet.”

The red kryptonite glows and ebbs under her skin, everywhere, pulsing, from her temples to her toes, the slithers of red slip and glide beneath her skin and then reappear a moment later somewhere else. Lena surmises that her body, her primal aggression, it’s fighting her from the inside out and telling her this is wrong.

Kara ignores it and does as she’s told.

“What a good girl!” Lena cranes down and kisses her temple as the slick leather strap begins to work the top of her bare foot. “What do good girls get, Kara?”

“Rewards, Ma’am,” Kara whimpers.

“And what does the good girl want?”

“For you to fuck me hard, Ma’am,” Kara breaks into a sob and grinds her hips harder. “Please, please, it’s too gentle.” She dissolves into hiccuping tears.

“You’re sure you want a big hard orgasm?” Lena furrows her brow, as though she doesn’t understand. “Wouldn’t you rather a nice, soft, gentle little orgasm that just takes you over the edge—”

“Please let me cum hard,” Kara squeals, her face dipped down and cradled between her handler’s thighs. “Please, Ma’am! I’ll be a good girl, I promise!”

“No baby,” Lena says calmly. “Just a tiny soft orgasm tonight. If you are good, I’ll let you have a big one tomorrow.”

“Ma’am please!” Kara yelps as though agonised, her fingers digging tight into Lena’s kneecaps. “Please, please—”

It’s important that Kara learns the size and depth of a reward is Lena’s to call. She won’t get her own way all of the time, that’s Lena’s rationale with denying her. Lena dials down the vibrations incrementally, then makes the swell of the toy just a little bit smaller. Responsively, Kara sobs and bucks harder as she loses the pressure on her g-spot.

“The more you push the more pressure I’m going to take away,” Lena is stern because she feels that she has to be. “Are we going to be a good girl or a ruined girl?”

“Good girl,” Kara whimpers and bucks. “Can I cum, please? I’ll be a good girl, I’ll be obedient.”

“Chase it. I’ll cut you off when you’ve had enough baby, don’t you worry.” Lena cruelly smiles.

Kara bucks and grows silent for a moment, her pained expression slackening as the orgasm creeps up gently—nowhere near as forceful as the wolfish little thing desires it to be—but that will come in time, Lena thinks. She cups Kara’s chin and stares down at her, appraising, judging perfectly, grinning when the wild little thing comes undone with a sob and clutches at her leg like a humping little pet.

“There we go,” Lena whispers, turning the toy off suddenly just as Kara hit the peek. “What a very, very good girl. I’m pleased, Kara.” She cranes and pecks her temple, her tear-stained cheek, then her panting lips. “What do we say?”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Kara stutters.

“Good, good girl.” Lena cradles her cheeks. “Let’s get you comfortable in bed. You’re not going to give me problems, are you?” Lena teases her thumb over the shock trigger.

“No Ma’am!” Kara shakes her head frantically. “No problems!”

“Good girl, that’s what I like to hear.” Lena kisses her more fervently this time.

It was a gamble with her life that paid off, Lena thinks with relief.

The green kryptonite lamps had died hours ago, the room was completely dim and dark save the backlight from the row of monitors opposite the other side of the glass. Unbeknownst to Kara, she had slowly regained her powers, or certainly enough of them to beat Lena in a fight if she so wished. But, she had been such a very good girl.

Lena had no concerns now that her little wolfish pet could be brought to heel.

FIND MORE STORIES/SUBMIT ME YOUR IDEAS HERE!

[thevoidfishsminstrel]

Lena jumped and reached for the taser hidden under her desk as a red and blue blur came crashing through her balcony window, landing in the middle of her office in a pile of concrete and rucked up carpet.

She released her death grip on the taser and breathed out in relief at the realisation that this was not another surprise visit from one of her brother’s minions but rather National City’s resident superhero dropping in. (Literally).

This wasn’t quite how she imagined their first meeting but then when did her life ever go as expected.

Supergirl lay in the rubble, unmoving. Apart from her apparent lack of consciousness, she looked unharmed. Had Lena not just witnessed her crash through her very expensive wall, she might have thought the hero was simply taking a mid-fight power nap.

She gingerly stepped across the ditch that Supergirl’s landing had created in her floor and crouched down to assess the Super.

“Supergirl?” She briefly contemplated poking her to see if she responded but decided against it just in case it was taken as another Luthor attack.

Supergirl gasped and shot upright, almost giving Lena a heart attack in the process. She looked around in confusion for a moment before her eyes landed on Lena who had a hand clutched to her chest and was trying desperately not to curse like a sailor in front of National City’s golden girl.

Supergirl cleared her throat, standing and brushing building dust off herself. “Sorry about…” she gestured vaguely to the gaping hole now in the side of Lena’s office, “that. I’ll just…” She nodded towards the balcony and awkwardly went over to it, needlessly opening the door which now had no glass and half the frame missing.

Lena watched her stand tall, heroically raising her fists to the sky as she pushed off the ground and jumped less than two feet into the air. She stumbled and smacked into the balcony railing with an “oof”, doubling over and almost falling over the other side.

“Supergirl?!” Lena’s eyes widened and she rushed towards her as Supergirl slid to the floor with a groan.

The hero flopped over onto her back and lay on the balcony. “I think… I think I’m just going to lie here for a bit if that’s okay.”

She reached up and tapped at her ear a few times before removing what was presumably a communications device with a sigh and throwing it across the balcony.

“Sorry. I’ll clear that up in a bit.” She rolled her head to the side and looked through the balcony windows to the mess that had been Lena’s office. “...And that.” She looked up at Lena with a sheepish smile. “I don’t suppose you have a phone I could borrow?”

———

A few minutes later, Supergirl was sitting on Lena’s thankfully still intact couch, staring down at the dial numbers on Lena’s phone.

“You don’t know the number do you.” Lena had to stop herself from laughing at the way Supergirl threw her hands up with a grumpy pout, adorable crinkle between her eyebrows.

“Who remembers phone numbers anymore?!” She sighed and flopped back into the couch cushions, handing Lena her phone back with a halfhearted smile in thanks.

Lena got up and crossed her office, carefully stepping across the gulf in the middle and sitting down at her desk. “Well if you can give me a name, I may be able to find a number?”

Kara bit her lip, considering. She muttered something under her breath about being murdered and moved across the room to sit in the chair that still had all four legs on the other side of Lena’s desk. “Alex Danvers.”

Lena nodded and got to work hacking a few National City servers.

Supergirl shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “You’re not um… this isn’t illegal, right?”

Lena glanced away from her screen to the hero for a moment and raised an eyebrow. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

———

It didn’t take long to find a number. Supergirl fidgeted in her seat the entire time and only stopped when Lena handed her phone back over and turned her screen around to show her the phone number of one Alex Danvers.

Supergirl lit up immediately and dialed the number.

Lena tried not to listen, she really did, but it was hard when Supergirl hadn’t even moved from the seat opposite her.

“Hey Alex, it’s K- …Supergirl.”

Lena bit her cheek to stop herself smiling and pulled up some work to pretend to do. She saw Supergirl grimace at whatever was being said out the corner of her eye.

“I know, I know. I’m fine - I just crashed into a building and solarflared. And my comms are broken. I may also need another phone. Can you get photos back from broken devices? Because I took a really cool picture of some birds earlier before I dropped my phone. …Those two things are totally unrelated.”

There was some faint complaining on the other end of the line and Lena discreetly pulled up the schematics for a prototype that could retrieve and restore data from practically any device.

“Um…” Supergirl not-so-subtly glanced towards Lena and angled herself slightly away. “Lena Luthor?”

Lena hoped this so-called solarflare affected all Supergirl’s powers or she would definitely have been able to hear the way Lena’s heart started thudding in her chest.

Supergirl’s crinkle returned and she loudly whispered down the phone in a way that made Lena understand why there were never any stories of Supergirl doing covert operations. “Alex! Will you stop it? She has been nothing but kind to me. If she wanted me dead, she would have tried it already - she knows I don’t have any of my powers right now.”

There was some more yelling on the phone.

“Well I think it would have been kinda hard to convince her I still had them after she saw me faceplant on her balcony.” There was silence for a moment and then Supergirl pouted at the sound of laughter. “Okay okay can you just come and get me now?”

———

It turned out that Alex could not in fact come and get Supergirl because whatever underground organisation she worked for (because it certainly wasn’t the def.B.I) were too busy chasing down the alien Supergirl had been fighting before she decided to visit Lena.

“I could get my driver to take you somewhere if you’d like?”

Supergirl shook her head. “Thanks but I wouldn’t be able to tell them the address. And Alex doesn’t like me wandering around without my powers.” She lifted her hand and almost poked herself in the eye before redirecting the movement to tuck a stand of hair behind her ear, a cute blush dusting her cheeks. “Would it be alright if I just stay here for a bit? I’ll be super quiet - you won’t even know I’m here.”

———

Despite all her abilities, super-quietness did not appear to be one of them.

Lena spent half an hour trying to continue working before she gave up, logging off her computer and turning to the Kryptonian currently hanging upside down on her couch and singing ABBA under her breath.

“I was just about to order some food. Would you like anything?”

Supergirl’s face lit up like an excited puppy and she fell off the couch in her eagerness to get up. She jumped to her feet, cape awkwardly twisted over her shoulder, and put her hands on her hips like nothing had happened. “Would I ever!”

Lena grinned and rounded her desk, picking up her phone to order. “What would you like?”

Apparently that was the wrong question to ask a Kryptonian because Lena spent the next half hour listening to Supergirl wax poetic about various fast foods before being coerced into ordering far too much food with absolutely no nutritional value and suffering through Jess’s alarmed and mildly concerned looks when said food arrived. She would certainly be recommending the company that soundproofed her office though if Jess still had no idea that there was a Super in there.

The coffee table was overflowing with Chinese takeout. Supergirl had skewered four potstickers on her chopsticks and ate them all in one go, cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk, before Lena even sat down. She made a pleased hum and smiled at Lena like this was perfectly normal before impaling another four.

Lena smoothed out her skirt and delicately picked up her own food, using proper chopstick etiquette.

“So. Lena Luthor, huh?”

Lena raised an eyebrow. “Supergirl, huh?”

The Super considered her for a moment. “Kara Zor-El.” When Lena just frowned she added, “my name. Kara Zor-El.” At her continued look of shock and confusion, Kara shrugged and went back to eating like it was no big deal. “If you’re stuck with me for a bit and kind enough to feed me I figure you should at least get to call me something other than ‘Supergirl’.”

Lena rested her container of noodles on her knee and studied Kara. “Why do you trust me?”

Kara frowned. “Why would I not?”

“Because I’m a Luthor?”

Kara looked at her and for a terrifying moment Lena felt more seen than ever before. “Yes. You are. Lena Luthor. And as far as I know, Lena Luthor has done nothing to make me distrust her.”

Before Lena could even begin to form a response to that, Kara had picked up a new food container to start on and was telling her about a puppy she had seen earlier that week.

———

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true!” Kara turned to fully face her on the couch, flinging noodles around in her chopsticks as she talked. “It took me ages to learn to get the temperature just right - that’s the hardest bit really. Same with laservision - it took a lot of burnt popcorn before I could cook stuff with it. I use that all the time now though.”

Lena bit her lip to stop herself laughing at the image of Supergirl using her superpowers to make popcorn.

“Anyway - I swear I really did make it snow for Christmas one year. The weather reporters were so confused.”

Lena had to duck her head to hide the laugh trying to escape her. Kara was grinning dopily at her when she looked back up.

She raised an eyebrow. “I still don’t believe you.”

Kara’s jaw dropped and she made an affronted noise, dramatically standing, placing her food back on the coffee table, and putting her hands on her hips. She inhaled deeply and looked towards the ceiling, letting out a stream of freeze breath that drifted down in a flurry of snowflakes.

Lena laughed and stood, holding out her palms to catch some snow and watching it melt in her palms. Kara grinned smugly at the look of delight on Lena’s face.

It was at that moment that Jess walked through the door.

“Miss Luthor, there’s an Ale-” She cut herself off at the sight of her boss laughing with Supergirl in an office with a hole in the side of it, half the floor torn up, and more food than she had seen Lena eat in the past week piled up on the coffee table.

Lena cleared her throat, lowering her arms and putting back on her professional mask as though there weren’t snowflakes in her hair. “Yes Jess?”

Jess opened and closed her mouth a few times, eyes darting around the room, before she straightened up and looked back to Lena. “Alex Danvers is here. She says you’re expecting her?”

Lena nodded. “Yes. Thank you Jess. Please send her in.”

Jess left the room without another word and (presumably) Alex Danvers walked in. Her eyebrows rose as she took in the scene before her, eyes landing on a sheepish looking Supergirl.

Alex sighed and turned to Lena. “We’ll have a clean up crew with you as soon as possible, Miss Luthor.”

Lena shook her head, trying to bite back a smile as she saw Kara trying to nudge her carpet back over the dent in her floor with the toe of her boot. “No need, Ms Danvers. I’ve been wanting to renovate this office since I moved to National City anyway.”

Alex nodded and tried to subtly pull at Supergirl’s cape to get her to stop. She smiled politely. “We’ll leave you to your work then.”

She opened the office door and looked expectantly to Kara.

But before she left, Kara wrapped her ridiculously muscular arms around Lena and gave her a squeeze. It was like being hugged by a rock in a blanket and it was the best feeling Lena had ever experienced. Kara pulled back with a grin and a thank you before turning to Alex to follow her out.

It was only thanks to years of Luthor training that Lena managed to keep her composure. She definitely succeeded. She was sure of it. Alex’s smirk was entirely unrelated.

And if a woman who looked remarkably like Supergirl with glasses and a ponytail and was coincidentally also called Kara walked into her (newly redecorated) office behind Clark Kent a week later, who could blame her for making a few Supergirl jokes to make that cute blush appear. And for giving her her personal phone number. For future interviews, of course.

[theasstour]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟑𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐬

AN: Massive thank you to my dearest @fromyourstrulyh​ who helped me sm with this chapter! Love you tons, Jess 🐚✨

Monday, 15 June

Fore Street wasn’t particularly busy this early in the morning. People were driving to work, and others were strolling by near the road, leaving the main shopping street of St Ives almost deserted. The bright yellow early morning sun peeked over the rooftops of the stone cottages, casting some of the street in a tad too chilly shadow and the other half in cool sunshine. Having just had breakfast with Bessie, Y/N was strolling along the cobblestoned street, relishing in the calmness at the start of the week.

Wearing her satin pleated forest green midi skirt, a white tee shirt and white Vans, Y/N was a little cold, but her walk wasn’t a long one. She walked by Vintage Divine a few times, but never gone inside, today that was going to change. With her tote bag at the ready in her purse, Y/N entered the vintage shop, quickly noticing she was the second customer there. She strolled on over to what looked to be a rack of dresses and long skirts. She had absolutely nothing else to do all day so she could spend all of it in here, she didn’t care. She’d most likely enjoy her time there very much.

Capital was being played over the speaker, and though Y/N wasn’t sure that was the kind of vibe a vintage shop had, she loved it regardless. It had been so long since she’d been in a vintage shop, and never had she had the privilege of buying something without having people inspect her finds when she got home. She was sure she walked around for an hour, maybe even a bit longer, before she recognised the voice talking behind the till.

Looking over, she saw Florence, one of the ladies in Bessie’s little knitting circle. She picked up the red and pink headband she’d been looking at before making her way toward her. When their eyes met, Y/N gave Florence a wide grin that she returned, waving Y/N over.

“Would you look at that? Speak of the devil, ey, Camila?” Florence said, gesturing at Y/N. A woman around the same age glanced at Y/N over the rim of her glasses, raising her eyebrows as she studied her.

“This is her?”

“Sure is.”

“Oh, my word, what an absolute beauty. Why Harry kept you away for so long is a mystery.”

“Aww,” Y/N chuckled. “Thanks. More to do with privacy than anything else, I suppose.”

“You know,” Florence said as she started scanning the items Y/N wanted to buy. “We were just saying, the person who most needs a partner right now is Harry.”

“Yeah, that lad’s been stuck in that lighthouse ever since his father died. It’s very sad,” Camila went on, making a point of looking at both Y/N and Florence over her glasses to see them clearly. “Maybe you can break him out of his shell a bit. Think having someone like you who can take him out will be good for him.”

“Harry likes being on his own.”

“That’s right,” Florence went on after Y/N, looking at Camila. “Y/N is living at the Crab Inn. At Bessie’s.”

Camila gasped. “He won’t even let her stay at his house?”

Y/N didn’t know why the two women were talking about her like she wasn’t there. Clearing her throat some, she said, “We don’t want to overwhelm each other. We haven’t stayed together for more than a few days before.”

“But don’t new couples bunny out in the first phase of their relationship?” Camila was as blunt as she was almost blind, Y/N thought.

This took Y/N off guard and she forced a breathy chuckle out, bringing a few quid out to pay Florence. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

Camila looked to Florence and Florence only shrugged, Y/N didn’t know if that meant Florence agreed with Y/N or Camila.

“Harry’s a handsome bloke, there’s no reason-“

“Have you at least been to the lighthouse?” Florence asked to speak over Camila, giving Y/N a friendly smile. Y/N appreciated Florence stepping in when she sensed Camila taking it a bit too far.

Y/N nodded, probably a bit too frantically. “Yes, quite a few times.”

“Harry won’t let anyone to the top, says it breaks some rule or something,” Florence said.

“Think it’s just him and his family being a bit selfish, if you ask me,” Camila went on.

“Oh, now you’re being proper arsey, Camila.” Florence only sighed before turning her attention back on Y/N. “Been to the top yet?”

“First place he took me.”

“Of course,” Florence smiled. “See you around, darling.”

“Bye, Florence. Bye, Camila.” Y/N waved at the both of them, walking on out of Vintage Divine and on her way back to the Inn. She felt her heart racing quickly with the lies she’d just told. How could she be fake dating the lighthouse keeper and not have been to the lighthouse yet? Though she hated to lie like that, she reminded herself that the reason she was doing it was to get people off Harry’s back. He seemed like such a genuine lad; she’d do anything to help him. But lying about something she could so quickly change by just taking a walk to the lighthouse seemed silly.

Wednesday, 17 June

Y/N had never been this close to a lighthouse. She’d watched them from afar, never really given them any proper thought. They were an essential part of navigation at sea, but she had no idea how they worked, and until a few days ago, she hadn’t given thought to how they were operated either. She didn’t think lighthouse keepers were a thing anymore, let alone that they even lived in the lighthouse still. Maybe they lived in town and occasionally spent time in the lighthouse, but surely, they didn’t live there.

However, as Y/N walked along the gravel road leading up to Clodgy Lighthouse, that seemed to be the case. It was an elegant white building. Strangely the lighthouse looked like it hadn’t endured a single storm in the decades Y/N knew it had stood there. That therefore made her draw the conclusion that Harry was the one keeping this lighthouse under pristine and incredible conditions. It shone in the sunbeams shining down on it. At the very top, surrounding the beacon at the top of the lighthouse, there was black fencing, so Y/N guessed one could sit out there and get a pretty grand view of the St Ives Bay. Well, not all of it, but a pretty good 360 shot regardless.

Beside the tall white building, stood a one-storey hut. It was white as well, matching transparent embroidered curtains hanging from all the windows Y/N could see from her vantage-point on the gravel road. They were neatly tucked to the side, letting natural daylight stream in through the windows and in on what she assumed to be Harry’s house. It was rectangular, with a dark blue door in the middle of one of the shorter lengths of the house. In front of what looked to be a pebbled driveway sat an old yellow Ford Econoline, a very out-there car for someone who was so incredibly shy.

She did a 360, looking about the open moor that surrounded her. It was completely empty, with no one living near the lighthouse, and St Ives a 40-minute walk from here. It must be equally liberating and lonely, Y/N thought, not sure if she could muster living all by herself like this. But Harry seemed to be just the guy for this job.

Different coloured flowers were strewn around the lighthouse and Harry’s cottage, wild and untamed. It didn’t seem like Harry bothered cutting the grass around his house either, just mainly around the lighthouse, probably for better access, Y/N had no idea. However, upon closer inspection, all types of insects flew to and from all the flowers and plants, zooming away once Y/N hunched down and picked two flowers she didn’t know the name of. She liked the fact that the bees could roam around the little field without problem. They were welcomed and encouraged to stay. Y/N didn’t know if this was Harry’s intention, but she liked to think it was. She’d always wanted to get into gardening, but she’d never had the time.

The door to the cottage opened and Harry came to view, taking a few steps outside to see what Y/N was doing by the ground. She stood, smiling and waving as she made her way over to him. He wore a pair of tapered retro black jeans, cuffed at the ankles, along with a loose fitted white, orange and blue shirt, one part of the front tucked into his jeans. His feet were bare, and his hair was a mess. It looked like she’d caught him off guard.

“Hiya,” Y/N smiled, walking closer. “Good morning.”

“Ehm…” Harry nodded, running a hand through his hair. While doing so it was as if he remembered he hadn’t styled it this morning, hurriedly trying to make it look somewhat decent without the help of a mirror. “Morning.”

“Did I startle you?”

“What? Oh! No, no, I…” He trailed off, pointing through the door with his thumb but letting his hand fall to his thigh, hitting it lightly. “Just drinking me morning cuppa reading the  paper.”

“I’ve been up since 7, so I haven’t really done much besides eat and then walk here.”

Harry nodded, and for a few seconds, the two were left in silence as they just looked at one another. Neither knew what to say, or even what to talk about. They didn’t know what they had in common, or if they had anything in common at all. Y/N just knew she wanted to get to know the   man she was supposed to be in a relationship with this summer. Coming to visit his lighthouse and home seemed like a good thing to do. She didn’t know what Harry was thinking, but by the blank look he was giving her, she was starting to regret coming here at all.

However, that was not going to stop her. If they wanted to make this work, she didn’t want to make it awkward for them by not knowing how to act around Harry when they were around people.

“So,” she started, walking past Harry and his van. “This is the tall, pointy house you were referring to the other day.”

Harry followed her towards the lighthouse, unbothered by the gravel under his bare feet. “Yeah, it draws attention, doesn’t it?”

Y/N giggled. “How much time do you spend keeping it clean? It doesn’t look weather-beaten at all. Would’ve thought lighthouses to be in much worse conditions.”

“Trinity House comes and does a thorough clean about once a year, but I do most of the work myself. As long as the sailors can tell this is Clodgy Lighthouse, then it’s fine.”

She paused. “Trinity House?”

“The official authority of lighthouses in the UK.”

“Ahh!” She nodded. “And how do sailors know this is Clodgy?”

Harry pointed at it, referring to the entire thing with a sweeping up and down hand motion. “From the sea, a lighthouse may be identified by the distinctive shape or colour of its structure, by the colour or flash pattern of its light, or by the coded pattern of its radio signal,” he explained and the more he talked, the more Y/N could detect a northern accent. “When ships pass here, they’ll know it’s Clodgy by the pattern of the beacon, as well as the fact it’s completely white. Others may be other colours, for example white and red stripes. But Clodgy’s always been white, I couldn’t really change it if I wanted to. Not that I do.”

That was the most she’d ever heard Harry speak, from what she knew about him so far he wasn’t much of a talker. Too nervous and shy by nature, it seemed.

“I didn’t think of that before.”

“You also didn’t think they were operated by lightkeepers anymore.”

Y/N gasped, smiling at Harry as he tore his eyes away from her, his dimples showing as he glanced to the ground again. “He’s got bants.”

Harry chuckled. “Career in stand-up comedy next.”

She laughed, walking around the lighthouse and looking about the cliffs. They were steep, looking right down on big rocks that made up most of the Clodgy Point where the lighthouse was positioned. Harry was standing a fair distance away, leaning against the white building with his hands in his jean pockets. Because of the constant wind, Y/N walked closer and leaned against the lighthouse as well, studying the landscape and the ocean before them.

“I’ve mostly seen masonry and brick lighthouses, this is concrete,” she said, not wanting their conversation to die out this early. She’d just gotten here. Maybe lighthouses weren’t their main concern seeing as they needed to establish their relationship before facing other people, but it seemed to be what Harry was most comfortable speaking about and she wanted him to feel comfortable around her.

“Concrete and steel are the most widely used materials,” he said. “Concrete especially makes for an aesthetically pleasing design for shore-based lighthouses.”

“Shore-based? There are different kinds. I mean, I always thought lighthouses would be out on islands rather than on land.”

“Yeah, there are-“ He stopped himself, looking at her to his right and meeting her eyes for a few seconds. “I won’t bore you with lighthouse facts.”

“Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t wanna know.”

He bit his lips together, turning to face the sea again. “Right.”

She continued to watch him, waiting patiently for him to find the right words to speak again.

He cleared his throat and went on. “There are two types of lighthouses, yeah? Those located on land and those located offshore. A land lighthouse like this one-“ Harry knocked on the concrete wall behind him. “-Its job is to aid navigation over land rather than water. They’re usually constructed in areas of flatland where the featureless landscape and prevailing weather conditions might cause travellers to get disoriented or lost. A tower like this is therefore visible for miles.”

“Makes sense.” Y/N nodded, glancing up at the house as Harry continued.

“Offshore lighthouses are the ones you seem to think of, they’re far from land. Reasons for them being built in that specific area can be ‘cause of a shoal, a reed, or a submerged island several miles from land. They’re there to warn sailors they’re close to dangerous territory, basically.”

“You know so much about this stuff.”

“It’s my job.”

Y/N laughed, maybe a little too loudly but she found it funny, so she didn’t see a reason to be embarrassed or excuse her loud exclamation of joy. “That explains your obsession.”

He smiled, meeting her eyes for a second before glancing at his bare feet. “What’s yours?”

“My job?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” Now it was her turn to not want to meet his eyes. It wasn’t that she was ashamed, it was just that her answer was so boring. Maybe even a little unusual, especially for someone who should’ve been in the middle of finishing uni right about now. “I don’t have one.”

“You doing uni then?”

“Nope.”

That got Harry to shut up. It was clear he didn’t know what other questions to ask after that. What did you ask someone who didn’t have a job and didn’t go to uni without sounding disrespectful or degrading? He glanced away, pursing his lips as he fell silent again.

“My Mum was a stay-at-home Mum, so I was kind of expected to end up the same way. Trained for it my whole life and all.”

“You don’t want to do that?”

“No.” Y/N shook her head. “I mean, it would be perfect in a sense ‘cause I could read all the time, but I don’t want to spend eternity reading, you know what I mean?”

“Know exactly what you mean.”

She smiled at him. “You don’t like reading?”

“It’s not something I do very often, no.”

“Boring.”

Harry chuckled.

“It’s fun,” Y/N said, trying to sound convincing, but she was sure that if some people didn’t like to read, she wasn’t about to force them to buy a book and read it. “Anyway, I got this one dream a few years back, but it’s silly, really.”

Just then, the same ringing tone she’d heard from Harry’s phone before sounded from his pocket again. He cursed under his breath and brought his phone up, looking at the screen for a few seconds as if reading something before shoving it into his pockets again.

“I…” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“No, if you have to take that, it’s no big deal.”

“It’s nothing, no one’s calling me-“ But he was interrupted by the ringing sounding again. He brought his phone out and brought it up to his upper right arm before checking it again, sighing before looking at Y/N. He gave her an apologetic smile before motioning back to the house. “Gotta get back in there.”

“That’s fine,” she said, really meaning it.

Harry nodded, biting at his bottom lip as the two of them walked back in silence. The wind was still harsh, but Y/N guessed that was because of the flat landscape and the ocean being right there. She was used to wind, but not as constant as this.

“Listen,” Harry said as they reached his front door that he’d left open. “I’m so sorry about the whole fake relationship thing. I feel like I pushed it on you, and you don’t really wanna do it. You don’t have to do it-“

“-I genuinely don’t have anything else to do all summer. I think it’d be fun.”

Harry nodded, running a hand through his hair. She could see the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Right, yeah.”

“We good?”

“Yeah, I just want to make it clear that we can break this off whenever. If it hadn’t been for me and my lie, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“It’s honestly fine. It’ll keep my otherwise dull summer eventful and it’ll help you out. Think it works out fine, we just have to establish our relationship a bit so we don’t go around telling stories that contradict one another.”

His smile grew some. “Smart. We should definitely just sit down and figure it out.”

“What’s your number?” she asked, walking over to him with her phone in her hand. He reached for it, meeting her eyes to ask if it was fine that he grabbed for it. She gave him a little smile; he took it and typed his number into her phone. “Just so we can get a hold of one another and figure everything out. I’ll send you a text so you get mine.”

He kissed his teeth for a second or two and gave her phone back to her before saying so quickly Y/N barely understood what he was getting at, “Would you mind coming to Gracie’s birthday party on Saturday?”

Y/N remembered Jessa and Grace inviting her when she met them a few days prior, but she hadn’t thought about it till now. Harry’s brows were knitted together, something that resembled worry on his face as if he expected her to turn him down.

“Yes, of course! When? Oh!” Y/N jumped a little, suddenly experiencing a jolt of excitement rolling through her. “Has she got a list of things she wants for her birthday? I should get her a present.”

“You really don’t have to,” Harry said, but he was smiling.

“I think I do, and I love shopping.”

Harry’s smile widened and he looked at the pebbles under Y/N’s feet. “I’ll pick you up at 2pm on Saturday, then. It’s on the family farm, just a five-minute drive from town.”

“That sounds so lovely.”

“It’s the best place on earth,” Harry agreed, staying quiet for a couple more seconds before he seemed to remember why the two had walked back to his house in the first place. He shook his head quickly, clearing his throat and taking a step closer to the door. “Right, I’m sorry I can’t hang out more today. I got to… work.”

“That’s completely fine, I’ll talk to you later. You know where to find me.” She deliberately used that last sentence as he’d used it when they last parted ways, and it seemed Harry recognised that as well. He met her eyes as she started walking backward, giving her a genuine smile, one of his dimples showing. She waved her bouquet of two wildflowers, hearing Harry’s phone ring again as she turned around to walk off, and then his front door shutting quickly after.

Saturday, 20 June

Two different massive books lay on the desk in front of Y/N, one a little bigger than the other. She wasn’t sure which one was better to get her started, she hadn’t researched that before buying them at the Waterstones at home in Hampshire. All she knew was that they would both help make her achieve the same thing: master the UCAT exam. She hadn’t signed up for it yet, didn’t know when the next one was, but she knew that before she did that, she had to study first. But which one of the massive books was she supposed to open first?

The University Clinical Aptitude Test was used by most UK Universities on top of general applications, and academic qualifications, for their medical and dental programs. It aimed to help Universities select applicants with the most appropriate skills and attributes required to be a successful doctor or dentist. It was a test that Y/N, who was usually good at not stressing herself out, was sure would make her very nervous.

Her parents had never been interested in her achievements at school. They were sure she’d end up like her mother, and quite liked the fact she’d picked up reading and that she read as she did. It was an intellectual and quiet hobby they thought suited her well. Though Y/N loved to read, she didn’t want to study it in school. She didn’t want to taint something she found so much peace in with sleepless nights and forced readings. No, she had always wanted to keep that part of her life in a separate box from her academic one.

In school, she’d always thought science subjects to be fascinating. She ended up studying chemistry, biology, and maths for A-levels, she realised she did well in them because she thoroughly enjoyed her time there. Though it was hard, she liked how it opened her up to everything she wanted. Her parents hadn’t cared much for what she studied in A-levels, but it seemed to have shocked them that she did so well in subjects that juxtaposed with everything they thought Y/N was interested in. A little part of her was proud of herself for startling her parents like that; for doing the unthinkable in their eyes.

However, that was years ago now. Y/N hadn’t touched an academic book since. She was 25 and hadn’t gone to University like her friends from school. She hadn’t pursued her dreams. In her strict, rich family, she didn’t have to work a single hour for the rest of her life because her Dad had all the money they’d ever need. Plus, she hadn’t helped herself when she started going out with Dominic, another man who studied Business Management at University and someone whom Y/N’s Dad very much approved of. Y/N had been set. That was her life.

But she didn’t want that. She’d never wanted that. When she told her parents and Dominic this, they agreed it could get a bit tedious sitting around doing nothing but house chores all day. Y/N and her Mum had therefore volunteered at the hospital in town a few days a week, and some other days Y/N spent volunteering at a dentist. That was when she realised, she wanted to be a dentist. She didn’t really know why, had never really harboured a proper explanation for her interest, but she knew she wanted to be one. When Y/N told her Mum this, she just shook her head and took Y/N’s hand.

“What’d I do if you went away to uni, darling?” she asked, something that immediately sent a jolt of sadness and guilt through Y/N. Her Mum was right, she couldn’t just leave her. Y/N was the only child her parents had; she couldn’t disappoint them.

Y/N ran her hands over her face and then through her hair, forcing back the tears that were threatening to spill over. She wasn’t going to cry. She just wasn’t. Why would she cry? She’d escaped the life she hated back in Winchester, the two UCAT practice books she’d bought in secret at Waterstones were right before her, waiting to be opened and devoured. Why was she thinking about her life before this?

Y/N jumped up from her seat, looking at herself in the mirror beside the dresser. She quickly wiped away the tears on her cheek, as if doing it fast enough would hide the fact she was crying. She refused to cry.

Walking downstairs, she helped herself to a cup of tea in the kitchen, saying a quick hi to Bessie and her ladies before walking back upstairs. Putting her cuppa down on the desk, she gave her cheeks a little slap each, then sat down.

“Concentrate,” she hissed at herself, opening the window in front of the desk to let in some fresh air and seagull song.

Taking a deep breath, she reached for the bigger of the two books, tapping her fingers against the blue cover as if bracing herself for what she’d find on the inside. Opening the   book and starting to read it was a commitment. That was a big if, because so far she had a ton of money on her credit card, but she didn’t have enough to pay for University tuition or rent.

She closed her eyes and willed herself to not think about anything but the contents of the book before her. If she wanted to do this, she’d have to do it with her whole heart, she couldn’t let anything distract her when she wanted to read for the UCAT. Inhaling slowly, she opened the book, reading the table of contents before the introduction..

She could do this, she believed in herself. She told herself that over and over again the next three hours, not losing sight of what she wanted and deserved. At the end of the day, if she didn’t tell herself those things, who else would?

“You look lovely,” Bessie said as Y/N stood in the lobby of the Inn, grinning from ear to ear. “Heading somewhere special, dear?”

Y/N looked down at her baby blue mini smock dress, small daisies printed and sporadically littered all over it. She smiled at Bessie, nodding her head a little. “It’s Harry’s little sister’s birthday.”

Bessie raised her eyebrows a tad, a knowing smile on her lips. She looked Y/N up and down again. “You’re going to that are you?”

“Yes, is this inappropriate?”

“No, no!” Bessie laughed. “I’m just happy to see you and Harry hanging out. He’s such a sweet lad.”

“He is, yeah.” Y/N was unsure if she should thank Bessie for the other day, or if it had been so long now that it would be weird. The innkeeper had never brought it up again, never talked about Harry until today, but judging by the raised eyebrows and smile on her face, Y/N was sure Bessie knew more than she was supposed to. However, seeing as she’d lied with Harry and Y/N, Y/N trusted Bessie to not tell people. It’d break Jessa’s heart for sure, and Y/N had a hunch that if that woman’s heart was broken, the entire town’s would be as well.

The mellow yellow Ford van Y/N had seen a few days earlier at Harry’s pulled up in front of the Inn’s open entrance. A pair of orange pilot sunglasses were perched on his nose, almost matching the exterior of the car. He reached down rolling the window down manually, giving Y/N a smile when their eyes met, and then Bessie the same one when he noticed her standing by the reception desk.

“You alright?” he asked just as the window got a bit stuck. He yanked the handle a bit to get it all the way around and stopped when the window was fully open. Clearing his throat, he reached to rest his arm where the window was no more, bumping his elbow and top of his head in the process. Bessie chuckled some behind Y/N, but Y/N held her giggles back. Opting for a smile instead once Harry met her gaze again.

“Get yourself a proper car, Harry,” Bessie said.

“This one works just fine, Bess.” Harry pushed his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose as they slid down some when he bumped his head. “Besides, it’s massive.”

“Why do you need a massive car?”

“Massive car for a massive hunk.” He glanced at Y/N again as both women laughed at his remark. “You ready?

“Tell you-“ Y/N said as she stepped outside, on her way around the front of the car when she stopped herself, waving at Bessie. “Bye, Bessie!”

“Bye, dear! Have fun!”

Y/N opened the passenger side door and jumped a little to get inside the van, sitting down in the seat and putting her seatbelt on as she talked. “Tell you what, you got bants.”

“What happens when you grow up overweight,” Harry said, a smile on his face so she’d know he was making light of the situation.

“Oh?” Y/N asked, rolling down her window as well when Harry motioned for her to do so.

“The AC’s a bit fucked,” he explained, giving Bessie one last wave before driving off down the Terrace. Wind blew in on them, nice contrast to the scorching sun outside, though it was a bit loud, but Harry just talked over it. “But yeah, you got to be the cracking bloke who always tells jokes and makes everyone laugh. Why else would they want you in their circle?” There was a slight pause. “Actually, forget I said that. That’s an incredibly depressing place to start our day together, I-“

Y/N just laughed, finding the way Harry’s cheekbones turned all red and how he scratched at his neck in embarrassment, adorable.

“Sorry,” he said.

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry, it’s completely fine.” She opened her purse, rummaging through it. “I got Grace this.” She held a headband out. Pink silk with red along the edges and red roses to match, Y/N had absolutely adored it when she saw it in Vintage Divine a few days before and she thought it’d look good in Gracie’s dark hair. “Dunno if she likes this kind of stuff, but if she doesn’t then Jessa’s free to take it.”

“If you give her something that nice, she’s going to cherish it and wear it every day. Mark my words.”

Y/N giggled. “Alright, I will mark them.”

Harry smiled a bit at that, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. When he didn’t notice her staring, Y/N took a few seconds to just study him and what he was wearing. A green and white tee shirt tucked into dark blue denim jeans, a pair of worn-down white Vans on his feet. He looked good, and the orange sunglasses made the whole outfit. She glanced away, not wanting to seem like a creep or like she was checking him out, because she was not.

“Who is coming to this birthday then?” she asked, putting the headband down in her purse again.

“Family. Maybe some of Gracie’s friends, but I think they’re having two separate birthday parties. Jessa and Gracie love a good social convention.”

Y/N smiled. “And you don’t?”

“I live by myself in a lighthouse.”

She laughed. “You don’t like people?”

“Nah, it’s not that,” Harry explained. “More the fact that I want to choose when to be around them, you know what I mean? I need a bit of breathing space, being around someone all the time makes me feel a bit claustrophobic.”

“Gotcha.”

Harry was silent for a few moments as he put on his turning signalled and then turned. “What about you?”

“Pardon?”

“Do you like people?”

Y/N sat back in her seat properly, thinking about that question for a little bit. “Depends.”

“Okay.”

“If I don’t particularly like spending time with them, I don’t want to be around them.”

“Understandable.”

“But if I don’t know them very well yet or if I like them, then I don’t mind. I don’t like feeling lonely.”

“But if you don’t know the people you’re around, that’s just as lonely as being alone, isn’t it?”

“Maybe, but if you don’t know someone, that’s potential to get to know them and make a friend,” she explained, watching as the town centre of St Ives started disappearing around them.

“Hmm,” Harry hummed, waving at someone out his window. “Can see that.”

Y/N smiled. “You seem popular, though.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, everyone seems to know who you are.”

“The former lighthouse keeper’s son, and now current lighthouse keeper. Think that’s why.”

Y/N shrugged, not wanting to press the subject as she didn’t want to force an image of him that she’d created in her head onto him before getting to know him. She had to trust what he was saying and make her own observations. “What’re you giving Grace for her birthday then?”

“Trip to St Austell next Friday,” he said, stepping down on the gas a bit once they were on a more deserted country road. “About an hour north from here. There’s gonna be a street market there and she loves going on trips with me. She gets to decide the music, what shops we go to, and I always buy her two ice creams even though Jessa has a strict ‘only one ice cream per trip’ policy. We usually don’t give one about that.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“It kind of is, yeah.”

“Is there something special about St Austell, then?”

Harry turned his lips downward for a second. “Not really. Just know from a mate who travels there a lot that there’s gonna be a street market on their high street.”

“Every fortnight, there would be a market in the town centre at home. Anyone could put up a stall and sell their homemade stuff. There was always this cheese and this fish booth standing right next to one another, and they smelled absolutely rank.”

Harry smiled. “You don’t like the smell of cheese and fish?”

“I’ve never been a fan of cheese, and though fish isn’t bad smelling, it… right okay, doesn’t smell good, does it?”

Harry shrugged. “Dunno, I’ve lived here most of my life, so I’ve gotten quite used to the smell of fish over the years. Doesn’t really faze me now.”

“Lucky you, then.”

“And cheese is amazing.”

“That’s a blatant untruth. How dare you?”

Harry laughed, scrunching up his nose some before putting his turning signal on and then driving off the concrete road and onto a gravel one. They drove in silence the last part up to the farm. Forest rose up around them, but not thick enough so that you couldn’t make out distant houses or driveways leading up to other farms or neighbourhoods. It didn’t take long till Harry drove down a wider driveway, a thin line of trees along the edge of the estate that Y/N assumed was the Styles family’s.

A brick house along with a smaller brick house stood at the end of the small drive. Stone fencing surrounded the house, but the field outside of it was lush, green, and huge. Cars were parked there and people were hanging out inside the stone fence, sitting on tables or standing chatting. Different coloured flowers grew in front of the fence and by the looks of it, Jessa was growing a lot of vegetables on the other side. There were a few trees behind the house and inside what seemed to be the main area of the lot, so Y/N assumed they were trees that grew fruits as well. She couldn’t seem to remove her eyes from the little country oasis before her. It looked so tranquil that she almost wanted to live on a farm herself.

Harry parked his car on the grass outside the fence along with the rest of the guests. The second Grace noticed the mellow yellow van, she ran out to greet her older brother. Harry smiled at the sight of her and stopped the car, quickly turning to Y/N as he took his seatbelt off and started manually rolling up his window.

“I won’t leave your side, yeah? This can be a bit overwhelming, and you’ve never met my family before-“

“-And I won’t leave yours,” Y/N assured him, nodding as she took off her seatbelt as well. “Harry, we need to discuss our backstory-“

“-Harry!” Grace shouted, banging on the door and trying to get it open.

“One second, Gracie, I’m rolling the window up.” He turned his attention to Y/N. “Just keep yours down, it’ll get hot in here ‘cause of the sun.” He made sure his was shut before he paused for a moment, blinking once. “Fuck, we haven’t-“

“-Harry!” Grace knocked on the door again, jiggling the handle. “You haven’t said happy birthday to me yet!”

He sighed, giving Y/N a look before turning toward his door. “Step away, Grace. If I open the door now, I’ll mow you over.”

Y/N stepped outside as well, for the first time then paying attention to the noise of the farm. She thought she heard hens somewhere in between the chatter of the party guests, the smell of the open nature around her offering something besides the salt ocean and fish of St Ives. On the other side of the car, Harry pretended to struggle picking Grace up, something that had his little sister laughing. He walked over to the other side to Y/N, Grace grinning from ear to ear when she finally saw who’d come with Harry.

“You came!” Grace exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

“Couldn’t miss your birthday, could I?” Y/N grinned, opening her purse. “My birthday present isn’t as good as your brother’s, but here you go.”

She handed Grace the headband and as Harry gasped, Grace gasped with him. He put her down, letting her study her birthday present.

“It’s so pretty,” Grace said. “I think I like it more than Harry’s.”

“Oi!” Harry frowned down at her. “Hurting my feelings now, mate.”

Grace only giggled, giving Y/N a smile. “Thank you.”

“Happy birthday.”

“There’s food!” Grace pointed at the house and started making her way there, expecting the two to follow. Harry made sure Y/N was tagging along before the two strolled after his little sister.

“How old is she now?”

“Seven.”

“Oh.” Y/N blinked a few times. “Thought she was ten when I met her.”

Harry let out a breathy laugh. “That’s weird.”

“Hey now. I don’t know what seven-year-olds look like.” Y/N nudged his arm with her shoulder. It only made him laugh again.

“Oh, uhm…” He swallowed, glancing between the farm and Y/N. “You don’t have to do this, but with my grandpa – or step-grandpa, I usually call him lolo, which is Tagalog for grandpa – the pamilya and lolo would really appreciate if you did the mano po.”

“Mano po?”

“It’s a gesture of respect for the elders, basically. You take their hand-“ Harry pretended as if there was a hand before him. “And you take their knuckles or their hand and touch it to your forehead. Instead of a handshake, you do that. We don’t really do it to anyone else here as we don’t have that much Filipino family in Cornwall, but lolo is big on it. It’s dying out a bit, not a lot are doing it anymore, but lolo wants to keep the tradition going, and it’s not really asking for much, is it? Plus, it’s very nice.”

Y/N smiled. “How lovely.”

“It’s performed with the right hand.” Harry waved his right hand in the air in such a way that had a few of their family members waving back at him, he played it off as if that was his intent, clearing his throat as he turned back to Y/N. “You say ‘mano po’ to him to kind of ask permission to do it. I don’t do that anymore ‘cause he knows me and expects me to do it, but I think he’d appreciate you asking first.”

“Okay, nice to know.”

“It’s very important for Filipino children to do this as it shows respect to the elders, but they continue to do it to their elders even when they grow up. They’re kind of asking for a blessing from the elder, it’s usually done when entering their house or seeing them.”

“Oh, so… this is a bit of a big deal?”

Harry huffed, shrugging his shoulders. There was silence for a moment before a quick, “Yes.”

“Grand.”

“Also might want to do it to nanay.”

“Jessa?”

“She once grounded Grace for not doing the mano po when she came home from school.” Harry opened the small gate leading into the farm. “I don’t think she expects you to do it, but I usually do when I see her.”

Y/N took a big breath, for the first time since coming to the farm feeling nervous. “I shook her hand when I first met her. Was that wrong of me?”

“Again,” Harry said, trying to give Y/N a reassuring smile. “She didn’t expect you to do the mano, but I think she’ll appreciate you doing it.”

“Harry!” Jessa called from across the lawn, waving them both over. Beside her sat a very old man in a chair by a table, surrounded by others that Y/N guessed also were family members.

“Hiya,” Harry said as they got closer, taking Jessa’s hand and bringing it to his forehead, touching her so tenderly and with so much respect it took Y/N’s breath away. She now understood why it was such a big deal to Jessa, Harry’s lolo, Harry, and their entire family, not just their Filipino part. As Harry removed her hand from his forehead, she grinned up at him, giving his hand a quick kiss before turning to Y/N.

“When Harry told us you were actually coming I started crying,” Jessa said, beaming so genuinely and widely her eyes were mere slits of pure happiness on her face. “Welcome to the farm!”

“Thank you so much,” Y/N smiled back, offering her hand and before Jessa could reach forward and shake it, Y/N said a soft, “Mano po?”

Jessa didn’t hide her surprise, but she was quick to wipe it off her face and nod once at Y/N. Jessa’s hand was warm and rough, reflecting the many years she’d lived on this earth and the hardships she must’ve gone through. Gently and with as much care as she could muster, Y/N brought Jessa’s knuckles to her forehead and held them there for a moment before lowering it. She understood why it was such an important tradition to their family now; it was respect. Doing so told the elders how much the youngers admired them, Y/N really liked it. Jessa squeezed her hand, gesturing with a pout of her lips to the right where lolo was sitting.

Harry was already taking his lolo’s hand, holding it to his forehead before lowering his lolo’s hand again. Harry gestured behind him, saying something Y/N didn’t catch. She smiled at Harry’s grandpa, offering to take the lolo’s hand and saying another “Mano po” to ask permission first. The lolo held his hand out for Y/N and she took it carefully, pressing the knuckles gently to her forehead for three seconds before lowering it again. The lolo didn’t give Y/N as much of a smile as Jessa had, but Harry had again explained how important this was to him. He’d most likely expected her to do it upon arrival. They shared a look and he blinked once, and for some reason, Y/N understood that was him telling her he appreciated her effort.

“Y/N, you have to try some of the food!” Grace took Y/N’s hand, dragging her away from everyone to get something to eat.

“Sorry, I’ll come over in a bit,” Y/N said to the little group, feeling relieved when Harry followed her and his sister. They entered the house, taking the first open door to the left to the dining room. The walls were a relaxing white, filled with pictures and lamps and art clearly made by kids. In the middle of the room stood the table, filled with food and drinks. And in the middle of it, taking up most of the space and hard not to have your eyes immediately fall to it, laid a pig.

“This,” Grace said, giving Y/N a plate before pointing at the first casserole of food. “This is shanghai lumpia, it’s one of my favourites. It’s egg rolls with sweet chilli sauce. This is sausage rolls, and scotch eggs, and this is palabok-“

“-Gracie,” Harry interrupted, standing on the opposite side of the table from them with a plate in his hand as well, helping himself to some shanghai lumpia. “Take it easy. Let Y/N have a look herself.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll let you look,” Grace said, making Y/N laugh.

“And what’s that?” she asked, pointing to the pig on the table that Grace had forgot to mention.

“Oh! Lechon!” Grace grinned from ear to ear. “It’s my favourite.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a whole roasted pig,” Grace explained. “It’s been cooked over charcoal for 6 hours. The entrails are removed and after seasoning, nanay skews the entire pig on a large bamboo stick and places it over the charcoal. You gotta be super patient to do it, which is why nay is so good at it.”

“The slow process makes the skin of the pig become very crispy and the meat’s always very tasty,” Harry chimed in, smiling at Grace as she nodded enthusiastically.

“A Filipino party is never complete without one. You know it’s a special occasion when nanay serves lechon.”

“So it’s served on special occasions?” Y/N asked, watching as Grace asked Harry to help her to a serving of it. He did, putting it on her plate as an excited squeal erupted from the seven-year-olds mouth. Y/N could see parts of Jessa in the small human before her and it made her very happy.

“Graduations, marriages, birthdays, Christmas, New Year’s, you name it,” Harry said.

“It’s my favourite part of special occasions.” Grace reached for a fork.

“While this all sounds lovely,” Y/N started, looking at the table packed with food. “I’m vegetarian.”

Grace looked to Harry. “Nay is gonna be mad with you.”

“Uhm, I…” He looked at Y/N, mouth opening and closing as he tried to come with an explanation. “I-I… There’s gonna be a brutal murder at noon.”

Grace laughed, finding Harry’s helplessness entertaining. Y/N was aware she should’ve told him before this, but it had completely slipped her mind. The last week had been incredibly interesting trying to convert into vegetarianism. It had been hard, and she’d slipped up a few times, but she really wanted to make an effort. She noticed Harry looking down the table frantically, eyes moving between the different dishes.

“I mean, if there’s no vegetarian food, I’ll just eat-“

“-Tarte!”

All of them fell quiet, watching as Harry blinked a few times, realising he’d just shouted that out loud. Biting his bottom lip and running a hand through his hair, he gestured at the pan nonchalantly.

“The root vegetable tarte,” he said, a little more calmly.

“Oh?”

Grace pointed at it at the other end of the table and Y/N walked over. “Nay makes the best root vegetable tarte. You’ll love it,” Grace smiled, watching as Y/N helped herself to a serving.

“Thank you, Grace.”

Someone shouted something from the front garden, Y/N recognised the voice as Jessa’s and supposed other guests had arrived. She was probably calling for Grace to come say hi.

“Don’t tell your Mum,” Harry hissed as Grace started making her way out.

“She’ll find out eventually.”

“Not from you.”

Grace walked outside and Harry sighed, gesturing for Y/N to follow him into the living room where they could sit and eat in peace. There were some friends of the family in there, but Harry only said a quiet hello before sitting down, shielding Y/N a bit from view. She supposed he did it more so she wouldn’t be bombarded with questions than anything else, she really appreciated that.

The living room faced the back garden; big and open, a few trees every here and there along with a greenhouse. A fireplace stood by the far wall, one sofa placed beside it and a telly before the sofa. There was another sofa opposite the dining room entrance, Harry had made the two of them sit in that one, clearly so they wouldn’t have to chat with the small group huddled behind the television. Again, in the living room as well, pictures of Harry, Grace, and the family were everywhere. Y/N had never seen this many frames on a wall before, or in a house even.

They started eating in silence, but Harry had barely managed to eat one lumpia before someone came over. He put the plate away, smiling up at the two women in their late 30’s it seemed.

“Y/N, my aunts Rachel and Abby. Aunties, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

Y/N sat up a bit straighter as Rachel and Abby started talking over one another, high-pitched voices that showed of unapologetic excitement. They reached for her hand to shake it.

“Jessa has told us so much about you,” Abby said.

“Well, not much, anyway, but she’s talked about you. She’s obsessed,” Rachel went on.

“We’re Harry’s Dad’s sisters, by the way.”

“But Harry’s never told us where you’re from! Where are you from?”

“And how did you meet?!”

“Harry hasn’t talked much about you, he likes to be a bit mysterious, don’t you, Haz?” Rachel pinched Harry’s cheek, laughing a little at his grimace.

“No, but seriously, how did you meet? Where was your first date?”

“You’ve kept her a secret for so long, we need to know everything.”

“Auntie Abby, Rachel,” Harry said, chuckling a little as he sighed. “You’re gonna overwhelm her if you keep going.”

“It seems unlikely that a lad that quiet has a loud family, doesn’t it?” Abby asked, nodding in the direction of Harry, but asking Y/N the question. Y/N was about to say something when Rachel interrupted her.

“You look proper posh. Don’t reckon you’ve ever made a flowerbed, have you? Harry,” Rachel said, looking at Harry. “Did you get yourself one of them posh girls from London?”

“Alright.” Harry stood from the sofa. “We’re escaping.” He turned around, offering Y/N his hand. Him doing that took her a bit off guard. They’d never touched each other, and they were just going to start holding hands? She hadn’t felt a jolt of panic till then, she didn’t know why. Gently, she placed her hand in his. It was soft, rough as if he was used to handling mechanics and doing manual labour, but the skin was soft regardless. She didn’t know how he managed the combination.

He helped her up into a standing position, letting go of her hand when she stood right beside him. They left their plates behind as Harry manoeuvred his way around his aunties, making sure Y/N was following him as he made his way up the stairs in the foyer.

“It was nice meeting you,” Y/N called over her shoulder, smiling at them. She hoped it came across as genuine. Harry walked up the stairs and down the corridor to his right, entering the room on the left. He held the door open for her, closing it once they were inside.

He let go of a small groan. “Masters of doing my head in.”

“They were very chatty.”

“One way of putting it.” Harry sat on a single bed and it was then that she noticed they were in a bedroom. The walls were a bright green colour, posters of different Manchester United players and other football things. Y/N didn’t know enough about the sport to say anything definitely, but she knew the Manchester United logo when she saw it. The room was fairly small, only a wardrobe pushed up against the same wall the bed was and a tiny desk under the window. Judging by the picture of a man and a boy on the nightstand, Y/N concluded this had to be Harry’s childhood room. That picture was of him and his father. They looked so much alike it warmed her heart. She wouldn’t pry, but she continued to look around, letting Harry sit in silence on the bed for a minute or two.

“Wondered why you had a bit of a northern accent,” she said, gesturing at the posters. “You’re from Manchester?”

“Mancunian at heart, yeah.”

“Why’d you move down here? Don’t northerners hate the south and southerners?”

Harry smiled a little at that, looking at her. “Depends on what kind of southerner you’re talking about.”

Y/N chuckled, glancing at the posters again. “The posh ones.”

Harry let out a breathy chuckle. “Only those from London.”

Y/N kept her eyes on the posters. “So, why’d you move? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Hmm,” Harry said, looking out the window at the party going on outside. “Dad wanted us to move. He got the position as a lightkeeper since his Dad died, so we moved down here and on vacation in the Philippines a few years later, he met Jasmine.”

Y/N smiled. “I love that.”

“Yeah.” Harry let that word hang in the air between them for a few seconds. She looked down at him. “Anyway,” Harry got up from the bed, running his hands through his hair. “We need to figure out what we should do. When did we meet?”

A little taken aback by his sudden urge for them to establish their relationship, Y/N stood just glancing at him for a moment. Though she had no idea where to start, she thought nailing down location could be key first. “Have you been to Hampshire?”

“No.”

“Then, to keep some truth in there, we say we met in Newquay since it’s in Cornwall, ‘cause I’ve been there with my family a few years back. We met…” She narrowed her eyes, trying to think of an appropriate time.

“Last summer?” Harry suggested.

“And we’ve been talking on and off since.”

He nodded. “Didn’t get serious till April, since then we’ve kind of been seeing each other.”

Seeing how eager they were at building their backstory, Y/N smiled a little. She remembered something he’d mentioned earlier. “It wasn’t till the Exeter trip in May that we made it official,” she went on. “Did you actually go to Exeter? Do you have the hotel you stayed in?”

“I did and yes.”

“Right, we’ll use that if people ask us about where we stayed while there.” She brought her hand to her chin, looking out the window as she thought for a moment. “What did we do on our trip to Exeter? What kind of activities would two adults in a relationship be doing in Exeter?”

The room fell quiet. Harry cleared his throat. When Y/N turned around, he was scratching at his neck again, looking at the ground. “I mean…” There was a pause. “They do… Do…” Another pause. “New sightseeing.”

“Yeah,” Y/N said, dragging it out as she put her hands on her hips. “I suppose they do. What kind of sightseeing would we be doing?”

He seemed to be caught off guard by that, swallowing thickly. Y/N noticed a slight flare to his cheeks. “Dunno… Depends o-on what you’d wanna do.”

“What you mean?”

“What you’d be up for that early in the relationship.”

“Oh, I would be up for anything.”

Harry looked up at her, wide-eyed. “Any… anything?”

“Yeah, I want to experience everything.”

A whispered, “Everything,” left Harry’s lips.

“Think we’d spend a lot of time sightseeing, especially if we were in a town where there’s loads of places to do it.”

Harry just looked at her.

“Okay,” Y/N smiled, leaning against the desk. “So, we met in Newquay last summer. Where?”

“Oh, uhm-“ Harry’s voice broke towards the end, he cleared his throat quickly. “The beach.”

“Classic. Were we with friends?”

“No.”

“Even better.”

“Neither family knew till around the Exeter trip that we were together?”

“You play off what you’ve told Jessa and Gracie, I’ll say my family knows, but I didn’t tell them till I left just now for St Ives.”

“Why not?”

She waved it off. “Overprotective parents.”

“Okay, uhm…” He looked out the window behind her as he thought for a bit. “How did we start talking on that beach in Newquay?”

Y/N cocked her head to the side, allowing herself time to come up with something good. “I could’ve come up to you and just asked your name, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, alright.”

“I mean this in the least disrespectful way possible, but you seem very shy, no idea if that’s your kind of move.”

He smiled a little. “Shy or not, don’t think I would’ve had the courage to walk up and ask for your name and number.”

She narrowed her eyes a little at him, unsure how to interpret that. But Harry didn’t let her dwell on it for long.

He kneaded his palm with the thumb of his other hand, averted his eyes from hers as he hid his face in the little shadow the room provided. “But yeah, I… I like my own company, I guess.”

“Sorry, daft of me to just put it like that.”

“No, you’re completely right. We’ll go with you coming up to me.” He looked down at his hand. “Why were you in Newquay then? And why was I?”

“I was there with family, but I went to the beach alone that day.”

He nodded a little. “I’ll say it was a lads trip then.”

She smiled at him, feeling herself let out a small sigh of relief. They were getting a pretty good overview of the beginning of their supposed relationship. “And we went on a date in Newquay?”

Harry nodded just as the phone in his pocket started ringing. He sighed, reaching for it with a slight tremor to his hand. He dragged it out and pressed a button before turning back to Y/N.

“Aren’t you gonna answer it?”

“No, no one’s calling.”

“Then-“

She stopped as it rang again. Harry groaned and brought it up to his upper arm before checking it again, sighing as he gestured at the door.

“Need to go do something,” he said.

“Oh.”

He stepped out of the room and disappeared from view, but a second later he poked his head through the doorframe to look back at her.

“You’re not coming?”

That got her moving. She followed him downstairs and back into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, bringing a cartoon of milk out and putting it on the counter before reaching for the cupboard behind Y/N.

A hushed, “Sorry,” left his lips and he was quick to step away from her after retrieving the glass. He poured himself some milk and then chugged the glass. Y/N had just thought it was him getting a sudden urge to have a glass of milk, but as he started pouring himself another glass, she debunked that thought very quickly. She watched him till the second glass was down, not saying a word as she didn’t really know what to say to that. Did he just love milk? And why did they have to stop mid-conversation for him to have two glasses?

He looked at her and when he caught her staring, he let a breathy chuckle leave his lips before glancing at the milk carton again. “Sorry about that. It helps my blood sugar.”

Y/N furrowed her brows some. “Pardon?”

Harry turned his body so his right side was facing her, dragging the arm of his tee shirt up till his shoulders. A white patch was attached to his skin, a bit larger than a fifty pence coin, round and standing in soft contrast to his tanned skin. Y/N stared at it for a few seconds before meeting Harry’s eyes again, not knowing what to make of what he was showing her.

“Diabetic.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.

“Type 1. Had it for…” He trailed off as he thought. “About 12 years now. I think. Time’s a social construct.”

“And milk helps when your blood sugar is low?”

“Yeah, that alarm is to tell me my blood sugar’s getting low or too high. It doesn’t happen all the time, by the way. You’ve just caught me when I haven’t eaten in a bit and my blood sugar’s been low.”

“So, what’s that white thing got to do with you being a diabetic?”

“A needle’s attached to the sensor which constantly checks my blood sugar, and that’s connected to an app on my phone, yeah? So it sends signals when the blood sugar’s extra low or high… Makes sense?”

“Ahh,” Y/N said, nodding. “Got it. I think.”

Harry poured himself another glass before putting the milk back in the fridge. “Suppose I should’ve told you earlier, it’s a pretty big part of my life.” He laughed a bit as if to make light of the situation, but Y/N only shook her head.

“Just ‘cause we’re fake dating doesn’t mean you have to tell me things about yourself that you don’t want strangers to know.”

He held onto his glass of milk, only looking at Y/N for a few seconds as if he was thinking about something. He shook his head a little, bringing his glass to his lips. “I’m not ashamed of it, if that’s what you think.”

“There you are!” Jessa walked through the front door, grinning just as widely as always upon seeing Y/N. She practically skipped into the kitchen and up to the small round table positioned in the middle of it. “Have you introduced her to everyone, Harry?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, people are absolutely dying to meet the woman who has captured our Harry’s heart.” Jessa put a hand over her own heart, looking at Harry with so much love it made Y/N almost tear up a bit. “Everyone’s so happy for the two of you.”

Harry and Y/N looked at one another. Harry’s expression was blank as if he was waiting for her reaction to Jessa’s excited exclamation, so when Y/N scrunched up her nose and smiled at Harry, the dimples in Harry’s cheeks started to show some as well. They didn’t know what else to do or say to Jessa’s statement, but judging by her reaction, it was the correct response. Jessa gave the two an applause no one asked for, but she looked so incredibly happy Y/N didn’t mind.

“Y/N, you have to come to the beach with us on Monday!”

“Nay,” Harry sighed, opening one of the drawers by the counter he was leaning against and pulling out a bar of Dairy Milk. He got himself a row before placing the bar on the counter and then eating his row.

“No, it’ll be amazing. You’re always welcome around here, know that,” Jessa said, that bright beam of hers not once leaving her face once. “Monday we do kamayan on the beach. It’s a summer tradition in the Styles-Flores family!”

Harry looked at Y/N again, swallowing the last of his chocolate. “You don’t… You don’t have to come if you don’t wanna.”

Y/N looked back at him, her smile still present. “Of course I’ll come.”

“Yay!” Jessa clapped again. “I’ll go tell everyone then, they’re going to be ecstatic.” She jogged out the front door then, walking over to a small group of people and saying something that Y/N guessed was the news of Y/N coming along to the beach.

Harry downed the rest of his milk before putting the glass in the dishwasher.

“I almost feel a little bad that we’re going to break up at the end of summer now,” Y/N said, speaking so lowly that only the two of them would hear.

Harry glanced out the window of the kitchen at Jessa. “She’ll be devastated, but I just need to take her on a little road trip and play her some music and she’ll be fine.”

Y/N smiled. “Both Jessa and Gracie love it when you take them on a road trip and they get to listen to music.”

Harry chuckled some. “Guess they do.”

The both of them looked out the window at the garden where both sides of the Flores-Styles family were mingling. Jessa walked up to Harry’s lolo, grinning like always, and Y/N thought she might’ve seen Jessa’s Dad smile back at her. It was hard not to when the woman genuinely glowed and brought happiness with her wherever she went.

Y/N turned back to Harry again, catching him looking into the living room where his aunties were sitting on the sofa he and Y/N had been sitting in earlier. They had his abandoned plate of food between them, eating while they talked about some gossip Y/N couldn’t and wasn’t interested to keep up with.

“Harry,” she said, voice low. He looked back at her. “About… About the diabetes, I-“

“-No, I…” He averted his eyes to the tiled floor of the kitchen, a small furrow appearing between his brows. “Let’s not talk about that right now. My blood sugar will get better in a bit, I’ll stop shaking. We can go outside and chat with some of me family members.”

“You’re shaking?”

He let out what sounded like a short chuckle, holding his hand up so she could see that he was indeed trembling. “Hypoglycaemia. It’s normal.”

“Ahh, yeah, I’ve heard of that.”

“Anyway,” he said. “Let’s not think about that now.”

Y/N inhaled hugely, pushing away from the counter to look at Harry without turning her face. “Shall we mingle like couples do, boyfriend?”

He leaned his head back against the cupboard, running a hand over his face before taking his sunglasses off the top of his head and putting them back on. “We shall, girlfriend.” 

He gestured with his arm for her to walk first and she did, waiting for him to appear beside her once they were outside. He walked her over to where Jessa was standing beside her Dad, saying something to a taller man who stood beside her. His grey hair was slicked back, the shirt and trousers he wore looked worn-down and old, but they looked good on him still.

“Uncle Tom,” Harry said as they approached, a smile on his face as the tall man glanced over. “Hi.”

“Harry! Heard someone say you were here and I saw your car, thought you were hiding from me.” Uncle Tom gave Harry a big hug, patting him on the back a few times before they stepped away from one another. Tom’s eyes settled on Y/N, a smirk on his face as his eyes darted between Harry and her a few times. “So, this is the infamous Y/N.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, waving her hand some as if to dismiss the ‘infamous’ part. “You lot make me feel like a celebrity.”

“Well, when you make our Harry happy, in our eyes you are a celebrity.” Uncle Tom opened his arms, bringing Y/N into a hug she returned quickly, wrapping her arms around him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d hugged someone. “I’m Tom, Harry’s uncle,” Tom said as he pulled away from Y/N. “I’m not really his uncle, just very good friends with his late Dad.”

“I’ve called him Uncle Tom since forever.”

“It’s very nice to finally meet you, Tom,” Y/N said.

“And I hear,” Tom started, pointing at Jessa over his shoulder, who was still chatting to Harry’s lolo. “You’re coming to the beach next week.”

Harry made a noise. Y/N wasn’t sure what it meant. “Jessa forced her.”

“No, no. Don’t listen to him.” Y/N looked at Harry as he looked at her. She gave him a smile before looking back at Tom. “I want to come; it’ll be an honour.”

“Cheers. It’s one of those trips we take around the beginning of summer every year. The entire family comes, we bring food, and we spend most of the day there. It’s not an extravagant tradition, but it’s ours.”

“It sounds so nice.”

Tom smiled. “The way you’re dressed and judging by how polite and well put-together you are-“

“-Uncle-“

“-I would’ve thought a casual beach day with poor folks down south would sound dull?”

The way Tom said it wasn’t degrading, and Y/N could tell by his smile that he wasn’t saying it to challenge her in any way. With one hand dangling at his side and the other placed on Harry’s shoulder, he looked quite relaxed and not at all like he was trying to interrogate or make Y/N feel inferior. No, he was just wondering. Which was fair, because it seemed a lot of the people in Harry’s family and in St Ives had picked up on the fact Y/N had grown up in a very posh household. The question of why her wealth was so important for them to point out was something she didn’t bother thinking about. It didn’t define her any longer.

“Not dull at all. Maybe even a little refreshing. Don’t get to go to the beach much since I don’t live near one.”

Harry nodded. “We, uh… We actually met when the lads and I visited Newquay last summer. On the beach.”

“You mean you met on the beach?” Tom asked and Harry nodded. Tom glanced at Y/N again. “And you like the beach, Y/N?”

“Love it.”

“Maybe you should move here then. From what I’ve heard, Harry’s left the solitude of his lighthouse a few times already to be with you in town.”

“Only twice,” Harry mumbled, but Tom ignored him.

Y/N only laughed. “A bit too early to think about that. We’ve only been seeing each other for two months now.”

“Nah, this family moves fast, darling. If we fall in love, we fall hard, and we fall fast. Why measure love in hours spent together when it could be measured by the quality of that time, instead of the quantity?” Tom said, patting Harry’s shoulder. “Ain’t that right, mate?”

“No comment.”

Tom grinned. “Alright, alright.”

“I’m gonna take Y/N for a stroll so she can meet the rest, just wanted her to meet you first,” Harry said, looking to Y/N for some kind of confirmation, that she was okay with this.

“Yeah,” she said.

“I’ll see you two Monday, then,” Tom smiled, giving both a wink. He had the kind of old Dad charm that made you feel warm and safe, Y/N understood why Harry considered him family even though he wasn’t.

“Bye.”

“Good to meet you, Tom.”

“And you, Y/N.”

The rest of the afternoon went by very quickly. Harry introduced her to some other friends and family members, and though they asked them questions about their relationship, the two seemed to have already gotten a pretty good overview of what it was. That little chat in Harry’s childhood room had done wonders to get their head in the game. That, and the fact their relationship was so new meant there wasn’t a lot to tell, so some questions the two simply did not know because it wouldn’t be realistic for them to have experienced or thought about that yet.

At one point, Grace asked Y/N to help with her new headband. She didn’t know how to wear it in her hair, and she needed help. The two sat down on a bench beside the barn – which, by the sound and smell of it, housed hens – and Y/N helped Grace. The red and pink looked gorgeous in her black hair, and when she turned around and looked at Y/N once she was done putting it in, she grinned from ear to ear and asked, “Do I look pretty?” Y/N didn’t even have to hesitate before telling Grace she looked absolutely beautiful. The seven-year-old blushed and ran over to Harry who was walking over to them. He picked her up, throwing her small form in the air before bringing her to his hip again.

“Ready to leave?” Harry asked and Y/N said she was.

They said goodbye to everyone, and Jessa brought Y/N’s hand to her lips, kissing it quickly and giving it a warm pat before she let her walk off. Jessa, Grace, Uncle Tom, and Lolo stood by the white tree gate as Y/N and Harry left, watching the mellow yellow Ford van drive off down the gravel road. The sun was about to set, causing the sky overhead to bathe in a soothing orange and purple colour that promised sunny weather the following day. The drive back to the Inn was short and quiet. The silence lingered somewhere between exhaustion and awkwardness, and though Y/N wanted to say something to erase the tension, she couldn’t bring herself to.

When the town started appearing a bit more around them, she felt the phone in her purse vibrate. First she didn’t know what was happening, but then her heart suddenly dropped. She felt hot all over, the wind from the open window didn’t do anything to cool her down. Swallowing thickly, she tried to ignore it. But it was hard when the purse was in her lap. Harder when it was so loud. Even harder when her heartbeat sounded in her ears. As if the quiet in the car hadn’t been loud enough, the sound of her phone vibrating and her not picking up, was louder. There were only three people it could be. She didn’t want to bring her phone out to see which one it was. The ringing stopped after an excruciating 30 seconds, and Y/N closed her eyes. Just ignore it. Just ignore them. It’ll be fine. Ignore it and it’ll go away.

They arrived a minute later, and Y/N was grateful Harry didn’t ask about the phone incident. She stepped out and around the car, the smell of the sea surrounding them once again.

“The beach thing on Monday,” Harry said as Y/N stood by the entrance to the Inn, his window rolled down and orange sunglasses resting in his messy hair. “It’s on Porthmeor Beach. Send me a text when you start walking from here and I’ll walk in your direction, I’ll meet you, yeah?”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

He shook his head once to dismiss that. “Goodnight, Y/N. Cheers for today.”

“It was fun.” She gave him a little wave. “Goodnight.”

He started his engine as Y/N walked inside. Bessie stood by the reception desk sorting through some documents. When Y/N glanced in her direction and met her eyes, the innkeeper quickly glanced away, but the tiny smile on her face gave her away. Once in her room, Y/N checked who had called. It had been a few minutes now and they wouldn’t care to call again tonight, she thought. The ‘Mum’ on her locked screen made something inside her chest ache. She opened her phone to remove the notification but then closed it again a second later. Her Mum had called. After days of no one reaching out, of no one asking her where she was, of no one caring. Her Mum had called.

Changing out of her dress and removing her make-up, Y/N didn’t allow herself to think about anything. The only thing she allowed herself to focus on was a blackness. If you focused on nothing, nothing would hurt you. She didn’t want hurt. She’d had enough of that.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 16 August, 9PM GMT!

A HUGEEE thank you to my amazing and beautiful beta readers! 🌊 @aileenacoustic​​ 🌊 @bopbopstyles​​ 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh​ 🌊 @harrys-creature 🌊 @honeydearly​ 🌊 @summerfeelng​ 🌊 @withallthelove-a​ 🌊 

[mldrgrl]

Broken things 3/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall  See Chapter 1 for summary and notes

Melvin is out the door as soon as Mulder is in eyesight of the ranch house.  He can see the older man step out onto the porch and then stand a little taller and pull the tails of his vest taut.

“Am I wrong, or does my nose detect the makings of noon dinner on the stove?” Mulder calls.

“With the size of that nose, you’re probably smelling what’s cooking in Fort Worth,” Melvin answers back.

Mulder chuckles and brings Blondie to a stop in front of the house.  He motions for Katherine’s bag and then takes her hand while she gathers her skirts and brings her leg over the side of the horse.  He holds her about the waist to help her down and she pitches forward slightly and ends up pressed close to him.  He eases her to her feet and keeps his arm around her for maybe a bit too long, but it feels nice to him to have her there.

“Who’s this marvelous young lady you brung to us?” Melvin asks, and the moment is broken.

“She’s called Katherine,” Mulder answers.  “Send Trevor on out to put up Blondie, I’d like to bring our guest in and introduce her.  Set another plate for dinner.”

“Trevor,” Melvin calls over his shoulder.  He takes a small hop down from the porch and reaches for Katherine’s hand.  “Melvin Frohike at your service.  Welcome to Broke In, lovely lady.”

“The name of the ranch,” Mulder explains to Katherine.  “Alright, settle down, old man.  You act as though you haven’t seen a pretty woman before.”  He kicks Melvin lightly in the seat of his pants just as the young ranch hand that he had requested be sent out appears on the porch with a napkin tucked into his shirt.  “Trevor, excuse me for interrupting your dinner, could you please put Blondie up?”

“Yes, Sir.”  The boy takes the lead from Mulder and takes the horse away.

“Alright, come in, come in,” Mulder says.

Melvin scurries down the dogtrot ahead of Mulder and Katherine.  “You boys make yourselves presentable, we got a lady in the house,” he calls.

There’s a scraping of chairs and utensils.  Richard and Jimmy jump to their feet, wiping their mouths on their napkins.  Jesse stays sitting, slurping from his bowl until he looks up and then jumps up as well, spilling stew on the table and dribbling on his chin.  

Mulder removes his hat as they move down the broad hall and hangs it on a peg just outside the door of the dining area.  He hangs Katherine’s sack there beside his hat and guides her into the room ahead of him.

“Boys,” he says.  “This is Katherine.  She’ll be joining us for dinner and then accompanying me into town.  Katherine, that blonde beanpole over there to the left is Richard, and then we have Jimmy beside him and the creature without any table manners is his brother Jesse.”

“Ma’am,” they all murmur.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Katherine answers.  

“Go ahead and sit yourself here,” Mulder says, pulling out the chair at the head of the table for her.  After she sits, the rest of the men do as well, glancing at her and each other as though they’re searching for the proper etiquette to resume their meal.  Melvin is already ladling out a bowl of stew for her and he passes it to her along with a spoon and a napkin.

“Some lemonade, Madam?” Melvin asks.  “We got cold tea or coffee too if’n you have druthers.”

“The lemonade would be fine, thank you.”

As Mulder dishes out his own dinner, he observes there’s a slight tremor in Katherine’s hand when she picks up her spoon.  He also notices that her breathing is slightly labored, coming short and fast from parted lips.  It hadn’t occurred to him before, but with nothing in that sod house, this might be her first meal in some time.

“Melvin, do you think we might still have a tin of soda crackers in one of those cupboards?” he asks.

“I reckon we sure might.”  The little man hops up from the table and begins to search the cabinets.  He returns triumphant with a tin which he hands off to Mulder.  Mulder opens it and then passes it across the table to Katherine.

“Stew might be a little heavy for this time of day unless you’ve been laboring,” Mulder says.  “The crackers will soak up the broth nicely though.”

“Thank you,” she answers, with a nod, taking the tin from him.

Normally, the boys rush through noon dinner, eager to get back to their chores and the horses, but they eat slowly.  Jesse even attempts to hold a spoon, which Mulder has never seen him do before.  Trevor returns and has to squeeze his way into a place at the bench seating beside Richard and Jimmy.  Melvin dominates the conversation with business chatter, giving Mulder a run down on what some of the horses have been up to all morning.  

One by one, Jesse, Richard, Jimmy, and then finally Trevor excuse themselves to continue their work.  Each man brings his bowl and cup to a wash basin near the stove and they nod politely to Katherine before they leave.  Mulder asks Trevor to please hitch up the Tilbury to go into town shortly.  Melvin gets up to start cleaning dishes and Katherine quickly rises as well.

“I can help,” she says.

“Oh, no, no, no,” Melvin answers, waving his napkin at her.  “You are our guest of honor, my dear, and you won’t lift a finger.”

“Don’t you worry about him,” Mulder says, wiping his mouth before he rises from his seat.  “Let me show you the place before we leave.”

She looks to Melvin.  “If you’re sure I can’t help.”

“You go on with Mulder.”

“Well, now, you’ve seen our kitchen and dining area, let’s come back through the dogtrot and I’ll show you the rooms.”

“The dogtrot?”

“That’s what we call this open hall here.  We keep the front door open most days and the back door as well.  It’s good for circulation.  In case you hadn’t noticed, it can reach the same temperature as hellfire out here on the coldest summer day.  This helps with the heat.”

“That’s quite clever.”

“I thought so as well.  Now this first door on the left is where I sleep.  And this one here to the right will be yours, if you decide to stay on.”

“Mine?”

“It’s a guest room right now.  Occasionally there’s a need for people that travel through for business dealings with me to have a place to stay.”

“I can’t take that, then.  I could easily just take a bit of space in the kitchen.  If I stay on, that is.”

“You will do no such thing.”  Mulder opens the door to the room.  “It’s not much but the necessities right now but you can make it up however you like.”

Sensing a protest coming, Mulder moves them on to the last room, across from the kitchen and dining area.  He has saved the best for last in the hopes of impressing her.  He pauses with his hand on the knob.

“This is the washroom,” he says.

↭

She’s feeling overwhelmed.  Mulder has just shown her a room, in the house, which holds a copper and wooden bathing tub and an indoor pump and stove for heating water.  He tries to explain a system of pipes and wells and how they work, but he gives up and tells her he actually doesn’t have a clue how it really operates, just that it does.  The boys, he says, don’t trust it, and prefer to go into town for a Saturday night bath and shave.  Not only that, in the back of the room there’s a closet which is really a privy.  She’s never seen anything like it.

After they leave the washroom, the tour of the ranch continues out of the back door.  A rather large water tower stands some yards away.  To the east of the main house is a bunkhouse the ranch hands share and to the west of the house is a barn, stables, and a corral.  She’s surprised to learn that there are more than just horses kept here.  In fact there are chickens, two cows, several hogs and a handful of suckling pigs, some sheep, two goats, and a black and white herding dog called Queenie.

“We call her that because she thinks she runs the place,” Mulder says.

“Mulder!” Richard calls from the barn door.  “Trevor says you want the carriage hitched up.  You want the hackney since Faithful Jenny needs to break in the new shoe?”

“That’s fine,” Mulder tells him.  Richard tips his hat in acknowledgment and disappears back into the barn.

“How many horses do you have here?” Katherine asks.

“Right now, fifteen.  Six of them should be leaving us by the month’s end and then I’ll be bringing back more to replace them.”

“What do you do with them?”

“Take care of the ones that need taking care of.  For the others, break them, train them up.  Sell them.  Board them at times.”

“I can see why you prefer the land I was on.  Why you’d want it.”

“You can?”

“It’s flatter.  More prairie grass.  And full access to the creek.”

“All true.”

Richard and Trevor interrupt the conversation by bringing the carriage out with a horse the color of mahogany and a black mane.  All four of the horse’s legs are snow white and it has a white diamond just above the nose.  She almost gasps it’s such a breathtaking creature.

“That’s the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen,” she says.

“You like her?”

“She’s so...majestic.”

“That is precisely why she earned the name Lady.  Let’s go get your bag and then we’ll head on into town.”

He insists she borrow a leather valise to use instead of her burlap sack and she transfers her meager possessions into the case.  He carries the bag for her out to the carriage and ties it to a shelf just under the seat.  He helps her up and once she’s settled, he and Richard unfold an accordion top to shade them from the sun.

The carriage rides a little smoother than a wagon.  It bounces a bit and moves fast.  She’s only been to town one time and she’s unfamiliar with the road.  The land is so vast and it all looks the same.  She can’t believe she had been considering walking to Fort Worth.  She would never make it if she tried.

“You know all there is to know about me,” Mulder says.  “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

“I’m sure I don’t know all that there is.”

“Everything important, I would say.”

Her palms begin to sweat and she hides her hands in the folds of her skirt.  If she tells him everything about herself, he might change his mind about everything.  He might not be so kind to her.  She doesn’t feel right about deceiving such a nice man, but there are things she must withhold for now.  At least until she’s absolutely certain he would not look at her differently or think less of her.

“I’m not very interesting,” she says.

“You said you’re from Virginia.  Whereabouts?”

“Norfolk.”

“What’s your family name?”

She hesitates for a beat to decide if it’s too much.  “O’Brien,” she finally answers.  It’s a half-truth.  The O’Brien are her mother’s people.  

“Irish?  Did your people immigrate from the famine?”

“I don’t know.”

“Brothers or sisters?”

“I told you before, there’s no one.”

“Yes, you did tell me.”

He doesn’t ask her any more questions and she feels a bit ashamed of herself for rebuffing him.  She takes a few surreptitious glances at him to see if he might be affronted, but he appears to be passively concentrating on driving the carriage.

“Would you like to try?” he asks.

“Try what?”

“Driving the carriage.”

“This carriage?”

He laughs.  “I don’t see another out here.  You can’t do any damage, here, take the lines.”

“Oh, no, I…”

“Sure you can.”  He pulls the carriage to a stop and then passes the lines over to her.  “You’re driving from the right, so with your left hand, just lay the strap down over your index finger and hold it down with your thumb.”

“Alright.”  She does as he asks and then looks to him for further instruction.

“And now slide this strap between the third and fourth fingers of your right hand, like so.”

“Like this?”

“Perfect.  I’m going to slide the whip into the grip of your right hand here and you’ll keep it angled with the natural tilt of your wrist.  Now, you just tickle Lady’s back lightly and tell her to walk.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.  This road is pretty straight so there shouldn’t be any worries.  If she acts up, I’m right here.  And if your arms tire, let me know.”

“Alright.”  Her heart quickens a bit so she can feel it thump against her chest and she sits up straighter in the seat.

“Keep the lines slack as well, just like you’re doing now.”

“Okay.”  She turns her wrist a little so that the tassel that dangles from the end of the whip lightly touches the horse’s back.  “Lady, walk now, please.”

Mulder laughs and she smiles broadly when the horse starts to walk forward.  Her grip on the lines feels awkward and unnatural and it takes more effort than she thought it would to keep them slack and light.  Her back and shoulders are soon sore, but she does not want to give up the control that quickly.  Maybe ten minutes pass before she tires to the point that her arms grow heavy.

“I think I need to stop now,” she says.

“Put a bit of pressure on the lines, very slowly.”

“Whoa,” she says, but the horse does not stop.

“Whoa, Lady,” Mulder calls, and he covers Katherine’s hands with his own, adding the appropriate amount of pressure to bring her to a stop.  

His hands linger and her heart quickens again.  She wants more of something in that moment that she can’t understand or describe.  She imagines turning her palms up to him and letting her fingers slide into his.  She imagines pressing a little closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder.  She imagines him putting his arm around her.  She imagines a peace that she’s never even experienced before.

His hands move off of hers and she gives him control of the lines and sits back, rubbing her hands over each other to work out a little of the soreness in her wrists.  He starts the carriage forward again and announces that they should be in town shortly.

[demigodreading]

The Boo Crew

SVU FALL BINGO! This covers the Trick or Treat square for @storiesofsvu​‘s bino. Full of Rolivia fluff and another chapter for my Ella Alina Benson Series.

Characters: Olivia Benson, Amanda Rollins, Ellan Alina Benson (Original Character), Noah Benson, Jesse Rollins, Billie Rollins

Relationships: Olivia Benson x Amanda Rollins, Olivia Benson x Daughter! Original Character

Warnings: Fluff!

Summary: Ella is getting older now and is trying to enjoy as much of the “college experience” as she can... but there is one thing that she can’t seem to get out of her mind. Trick or Treating with her family

Word Count: 1886 

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Noah had been begging Olivia all morning to get into his Spiderman costume. No matter how many times Olivia protested telling him trick or treating was still hours away, Noah insisted that he had to put it on right away. Liv knew that by the time they did go out for the evening it would be covered with any arrangement of the arts and crafts they had for the day and the spaghetti she had planned for dinner. But finally, she just couldn’t take it anymore. When the words alright flew out of her mouth Noah was already halfway into his bedroom to get changed. Olivia braced herself against the kitchen counter letting out a large sigh as the baby monitor in Bille’s room started to go off. 

She reached down, gently putting her youngest daughter into her arms. She kissed the top of her forehead welcoming her from her afternoon nap. Just as Billie had settled down Jesse ran into the room. Olivia smiled at her young blonde daughter as she crossed her arms across her chest. She already was beginning to look exactly like Amanda. It always came out the most when she was about to be sassy.  As Jesse cocked her head to the side, Olivia prepared for Mini Amanda to begin talking.

“Momma,” Jesse began.

“Yes, my love.”

“Why does Noah get to put his spiderman suit on? I want to put my princess dress on!” Jesse asked and then curled her lip into a pout.

“You know Jesse that is a great point. Why don’t you go put your dress on and then we can start making all of those cool pumpkin decorations you wanted? Sound like a plan?” Olivia replied conceding that it was easier to let both of them run wild.

Jesse entangled her tiny limbs around Olivia’s legs, “I love you Momma!”

Olivia returned the sentiment as Jesse rushed out of the room as quickly as she entered. As her bedroom door shut, Bille let out a small babble. Olivia looked down at the grinning child, “Hey, I told your mom I would try to keep them out of their costumes. I tried...for exactly two hours. I think I deserve some props.”

Billie merely gave Olivia a small smirk, “You know she could have helped me but she is out with your sister getting a last-minute costume for this big party she is going to. So it is just me and you against the hooligans for the moment.”

Billie smiled at Olivia and reached her hand up towards Liv’s cheek. Olivia took the tiny hand and placed a gentle kiss on it. Once she had changed Billie and got her settled in a ghost Halloween onesie, they walked out into the living room. Noah was kneeled down on one knee in front of Jesse with everything but his mask on for his costume. In Jesse’s right hand she had what she deemed her magical fairy wand. She gently tapped each one of Noah’s shoulders with the wand declaring him the knight to her kingdom. As Olivia watched she couldn’t help but let out a small giggle.

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Ella huffed as they left the third costume store with only two pieces of her costume for the evening in hand. Amanda stifled a laugh as they clambered back into Ella’s Subaru. Ella scrolled through her phone looking for another place they could go to find what she needed after turning her Halloween playlist in the background.

“You know if you had just gone to the store with the rest of us we probably could have found everything that you were looking for,” Amanda told her as Ella finally place her phone in the cupholder.

“I had an exam that day and hockey practice,” Ella reminded her, “Plus Noah would have tried to convince me to be another superhero again with him this year.”

“Oh come on hun you looked great at Storm last year.”

Ella smiled at the memory of holding Noah’s hand walking down the streets of New York knocking on every door with him. Jesse had been attached to Ella’s hip with her large purple jack o lantern candy bucket too young to be walking around on her own. It was one of the many pictures she had hanging up in her dorm room. Olivia and Amanda brought up the rear of the party pushing Jesse’s stroller that was full of all the surplus candy they were collecting. For as long as Ella could remember it was a  tradition for the whole family to go trick or treating together. Except for this year. This year was the year Ella was going to the most popular Halloween party at her university. She was determined to make friends and not be stuck sorting out candy with her younger siblings. 

However the more she thought about it the more guilt started to rise up. She was going to be missing Billie’s first Halloween. All for a party that she wasn’t even sure she wanted to be a part of. As if reading her thoughts Amanda placed her hand gently on top of the one Ella had clutched around the gear shift.

“You know it is okay to want to go out and do your own thing for Halloween? You are almost done with the college experience. Live it up while you can.”

Ella sighed, “I know, Halloween is just my favorite time of year. It is one of the only times that we are all together.”

“Well if you change your mind you are more than welcome to come. You know we would love to have you,” Amanda smiled, “But I will remind you though that your mom is going to throw a fit if you go out in that outfit tonight.”

Ella laughed, “It’s a warmer October than usual! I am almost twenty-one. She will be fine. I’ll make sure I cover up if I go out with y’all”

“If you say so,” Amanda giggled, “I love you Ella.” “I love you too Mom.”

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

Over an hour later Ella and Amanda were making their way through the front door with a large bag in hand. As they entered the living room Ella couldn’t help but laugh. The large foldable table Olivia had set up was covered in various colors of glitter and paint. Billie was in her rocker silently watching the show but Noah and Jesse were making their presence in the home known.  They giggled excitedly showing their painted hands to the two newcomers. Their costumes were covered in spots of paint and patches of glitter. Olivia looked up from her craft with a sheepish grin, her Shego costume already on.

“Welcome home my loves,” Olivia said standing from the table, “Would you like a pumpkin to decorate? The kids each left you one.”

“But you have to be in a costume to participate!” Noah pointed out.

“Oh and who made that rule?” Amanda asked, eyeing Olivia skeptically.

“We did!” Jesse smiled, causing Amanda to laugh.

“I tried babe. I really did,” Olivia sighed.

“Oh I know you did. They actually are covered less than I had thought,” Amanda replied, kissing her wife, “I’ll go get change and join the festivities.”

As Amanda disappeared down to her bedroom Noah turned to look at Ella. She smiled as his curls bounced around his face. When he finally calmed down he asked the question she was dreading the most, “Are you coming trick or treating with us?”

“Please sissy!” Jesse chimed in.

The two of them together were a dynamic duo that always seemed to get their way. Before Ella could answer Olivia tried to reason with the two, “Loves, don’t forget that Ella is a lot older. She might not want to go out with us. She could have her own plans with her friends.”

Noah’s lips curled into a pout as he looked at his older sister, “Please Ella. You are gone aaalll the time. We just want to be with you.”

Ella did her best to contain her tears as she looked at the curly-haired boy in front of her, “Of course I can come but only to help you get candy. Then I have to go hang out with some of my friends but I’m sure Mom and Momma will help you both sort it.”

With a loud cheer, both of her siblings launched themselves into Ella’s arms. Olivia merely smiled from her spot at the table trying to contain her excitement. She wanted Ella to get the full college experience but nothing beat all five of them together.

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

“I remember this neighborhood from last year,” Amanda told Olivia as she adjusted the shirt on her Kim Possible costume.

Olivia laughed pointing at a large rose bush that was two houses in front of them, “I sure hope you do because you spent five minutes puking in that rose bush. One kid… I think a pirate almost puked on his mother when they walked by us. She was so mad.”

“Hey! In my defense, I was seven months pregnant,” Amanda said shoving Olivia with her shoulder, “But I am talking about the picture we took before that whole incident.”

Olivia knew the picture well. It was still the lock screen of her phone. All of her kids dressed up holding hands. It was her favorite. Well besides the wedding picture that she kept as her home screen photo. She linked hands with Amanda as she looked at a similar scene unfolding in front of her.

“I think we need an updated picture.”

“Think they will notice?” Amanda asked reaching for her phone.

“Nope, just do it before Jesse decides that she has to give us fifteen different photos and Noah hides behind Ella.”

Amanda and Olivia paused momentarily so she could focus the camera. Walking in front of them Ella had Billie tucked against her hip. Billie’s Tigger costume was a stark contrast to the dark angel costume her older sister wore. Large black wings sprung from Ella’s back. Her arms were covered by a light long-sleeved shirt and she wore a long black skirt that dragged slightly on the ground behind her. Attached to her other side was Noah whose Spiderman fingers were entangled in hers. He had decided to forgo the mask claiming that it was too hot so his curls sprung in every direction. Next to him, Jessie was holding his hand letting his Marvel pillowcase hang in the air between them. Her purple dress sparkled under the dimming light and her crown was cocked to the side. In her other hand, she held her Rapunzel pillowcase full of candy and her magical fairy wand. Amanda took a series of pictures and then turned to kiss her wife. 

“Look at our babies.”

Olivia smiled taking the blonde’s hand as they kept walking, “It’s so nice having them all together.” “We did good Liv. We did good.”

Olivia nodded and then looked at Ella again, “That’s not really what she is wearing out tonight is she?”

Amanda let out a large laugh, “Oh god no. She is basically wearing her undergarments to that party.”

Olivia let out a large sigh before shaking her head, “They grow up to fast.”

“I know my love. I know.”

[theheartsmistakes]

The Last Night Part XXVII

At some point, Lucie must have fallen asleep lying atop of the dusty blankets with the canopy swaying over her head and the sound of the wind blowing outside. She’d woken with a start at the groan of the door on its hinges and Belial standing at the foot of the bed.

The color had returned to his face, his hair was neatly combed back, dark like his eyes, and the velvet exterior of his coat and matching trousers. He fiddled with the silver cuff links on his wrists and grinned a Cheshire smile.

“You look well-rested,” said Lucie, fixing her wrinkled skirts. “I suppose it’s time then.”

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Does it matter if I am or not?” said Lucie, standing up from the bed and walking towards him, all while doing her best not to show any ounce of fear.

Belial’s eyes flickered over her face. “Follow me, please.” He turned on his heels and started down the hallway. After a moment and a few deep breaths, Lucie set out after him.

“For this to work, I need you to surrender wholly and completely to me,” said Belial as they walked. He turned to the left where another dark staircase ascended. The fact that he didn’t just snap his fingers or grab Lucie and appear in the room they were headed towards told Lucie that perhaps he was preserving his strength. Holding every last bit of it for whatever it was that he planned to do with her, this convergence or joining that he planned.

In truth, she’d been reserving as much strength as she could as well. She still wasn’t sure exactly how her plan would work, but somehow, it had to. From reading books of old, the legends, and the myths that her father and mother would bring to life, she recalled the gallant heroes in their times of desperation and their times of absolute weakness and what they would cling to. If only she could talk to her parents one more time if only she could hear their words of wisdom and listen to it for once. If only she could fold herself into their embrace and absorb their strength which they’d always given to their children so freely.

What would they say to her? What tether would they offer her? What could she say back to them?

I’m sorry I never told you, she thought. I was ashamed and I didn’t want it to be one more thing that mother had to feel guilty of or papa to feel he needed to protect.

They’d forgive her, she knew they would. Perhaps there would be time for forgiveness. Yes, she had to believe that she’d see them again.

They came to a door at the end of the winding staircase which opened on its own upon Belial’s presence. The room was empty of furniture and the roof looked the inside of a lighthouse with windows circling the perimeter. The blood-red sky leaked into the room illuminated the dust particles in the air. In the center of the room, carved into the black wood, were two circles overlapping so there were two sides and a sliver in the middle.

Fear gripped her throat and settled into her stomach like a stone. Tears sprang to her eyes as she bit down on her lip to keep it from trembling.

“Don’t be afraid, child,” said Belial. “It will all be over soon. I will have your body to occupy the world as I wish, and you will be a distant shadow, completely unaware, tucked away like a memory long forgotten.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I am going to take back what was taken from me a long time ago,” said Belial, and his hands drew into fists at his sides. “Come, the time is near.”

“My family,” said Lucie, as the tears spilled from her eyes. “What will you do with my family?”

“All the Nephilim must die, unfortunately,” said Belial. “Save for your mother and brother who have a spark of my blood still alive in their veins. I’ll offer them a chance to reign by my side.”

“They’ll never do it,” said Lucie. “They’ll fight you to their death.”

Belial grinned as he stood in the center of the left circle. “I wouldn’t be so sure. For fighting me means that they’ll be fighting you and while we are tethered, my death means your death. One cannot live without the other and so one shall not die without the other. If they believe that there is even just a breath of a chance that you are still alive, they’ll do whatever it takes to free you. But they won’t be able to.”

Lucie moved back a step towards the door. “And if I don’t, if I refuse?”

“I will kill your precious Cordelia,” said Belial. “You see when she was with me, I reached into her mind and took away her memories so that she wouldn’t remember that I injected her bloodstream with an undetectable poison that responds to my command and my command only. With just a snap of my fingers, Cordelia will be dead. Would you like for me to demonstrate?” With a wave of his hand, a picture appeared in a cloud of smoke of Cordelia sitting in the drawing-room of the estate with James beside her. They were staring at the fire together, hand entwined. The image zoomed into Cordelia her eyes red-rimmed and solemn.

“No,” cried Lucie. “No, please don’t. I don’t need a demonstration.”

Belial sneered and flicked his wrist.

Cordelia’s head snapped back, her mouth open as she gaped at the ceiling for air. James lunged from the sofa to crouch over her, holding her face in his hands. Cordelia’s face began to turn bright red as foam spilled from her lips.

“STOP!” cried Lucie. “STOP IT, PLEASE!”

“You won’t question me anymore?”

Lucie watched as James cried for someone to come help and Cordelia’s body began to convulse.

“It won’t just stop at Cordelia,” said Belial. “For every time that you deny me, I will make someone you love suffer. Say it and Cordelia and James can have their final moments together in peace or she can continue to suffer.”

“Stop!” begged Lucie. “I’ll listen, I’ll behave. I’ll do what you say, just please, don’t kill her.”

The image disappeared with another wave of Belial’s hand. “What does it matter if she dies now or later?”

Lucie shook with rage. She thought she felt the cool whisper of something brush up against her hand, across her palm, but she was too furious to notice.

And then she thought of it, what the ghost might have been trying to say. It seemed so obvious all of a sudden, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before. Perhaps because it was what she feared most of all.

She might not be able to defeat Belial in battle, but she could stop him. She could take away the one thing he needed to enact his plan.

She could remove herself.

But with what and how? She was out of time and with no weapons. There wasn’t even a nail she could pull out from the floorboards and all of her hairpins had spilled out at the Lightwood’s. She had nothing except the windows. The closest one to her was six feet to her left. There might be enough time for her to run and crash through the glass and fall to her death before Belial caught her. She feared what he might do as punishment if she didn’t make it, however.

You know what to do, a voice whispered in her mind.

I don’t, she thought. I don’t know what to do. Please help me.

The voice went quiet again and Lucie almost screamed in rage.

“Come,” said Belial and stepped into the center of the two circles.

Lucie gasped as she pulled by an invisible hand towards the center of the room. She tried to drag her feet but the force was too strong. Her heels scraped across the floor as she dragged and deposited in front of Belial.

“I’ve waited a long time for you, Lucie,” said Belial and picked up her hands in his. “It’s almost over. You won’t remember a thing, I promise. You must step willingly into the center of the circle. It won’t work unless you do.”

Tears poured unabridged from Lucie’s eyes. She slammed them shut and pictured her mother, gray eyes, and mousy brown hair. 

Her Da with the same mischievous grin as her own. 

James and his stupid face, the first friend she’d ever known.

Cordelia, a friend, and a sister.

She thought of Jesse and all the things she never got to tell him. She wished she could have told him how she truly felt even if he didn’t feel the same.

Fight, Lucie, rang the voice again. You must fight.

She opened her eyes and stepped forward.

(A/N: As promised, part XXVII for your reading pleasure. Next chapter is coming out on Sunday 1/24. Possibly the finale, there might be one more. We shall see how much I get done. As always, thank you so much for reading, commenting, liking, and reblogging. You guys are simply the best.)

[sp00kworm]

Butterfly

Pairing: Jesse Cromeans / Chromeskull x Female Reader

Warnings: Slasher horror and gore

A/N: This fic is blocked from the tags but please enjoy! Reblogs are always appreciated. Gif is by me.

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His home was lonely. Jesse looked at the clock, his eyes burning with the need to sleep, but his mind racing. It was late. Approaching eleven o’clock. He’d had to work today. His company didn’t run itself, and there was a lot of accounting and management to do outside of his little hobby. Jesse looked away from the clock and stretched his jaw, the bone clicking from where he was cracked around the face with the bat. The bone had healed rather easily, but it hurt from time to time. His face, that was mauled. He wasn’t the stud he used to be. Handsome, a straight jaw and high cheekbones. Cynically, he snorted at the picture on the mantle he had of him and his late wife. Mrs Cromeans clutched at his arm at some high-class party, her red lips spread in a smile to match Jesse’s smirk. The second was him kissing at her cheek as she pushed him away. Sentimental. He was feeling sentimental. He didn’t hate his wife. She was convenient. A life outside of his hobby. Pretty. He didn’t even know she was pregnant. The police informant he had revealed the death report tentatively to him. The unborn child inside her wasn’t old enough to be saved. An accident he never expected to occur. He’d been gone nearly 4 months, and she was pregnant. He didn’t remember a message, but then he tended to let Spann handle such things. He probably ignored it. Jesse stood from his black leather couch and walked to the mantle.

He took the picture in his hand. His face was partially cut off, the camera focused on his wife and her smile. Jesse looked at it before he leaned over and threw it on the fire. The glass shattered with the force of hitting the logs and the frame quickly burst into flames, black paint peeling off the wood as it crackled and snapped. The photos disappeared into curling pieces of charcoal and he watched the frame burn with a certain amount of upset. Sentiment, he reminded himself, as he pushed himself away from the mantlepiece and touched the tattoo on his chest. The shaded skull stared back at him with hollow eyes. It was a reminder of the urges he had. With a sigh, he touched at his arms and traced the patterns of screaming, swirling ghouls all the way down to his wrist before daring to stand up a little bit straighter. He reached for the laptop of his coffee table and opened a chat window with Spann. It took a moment for the secure connection to open properly.

 Spann’s face appeared in the bottom corner, her tired eyes looking at him through the camera. She was still sat in the office, but she gave him a smile, “What can I do for you, Sir?” She asked as she shuffled the paperwork away.

Jesse made sure his face was out of frame, ‘Make sure there is a clean-up crew on standby.’

Spann peered at the text, “Of course, Sir. Where are you heading out to?” She asked curiously as her fingers whipped across the keyboard lightning fast, “You’ve been in Hollywood for a while now, have you finally taken a fancy to someone? You’ve not been as active as you once were.” She smiled, sickly sweet and twisted, just like she always did.

‘Just have the crew ready. I will text if I find something.’

“Of course. Have fun, Sir.” Spann nodded and he closed the chat window before disconnecting from all the rerouting services and opening the internet to have a look for a bar that suited his fancy. Something exclusive so he didn’t have to sit and be gawked at by people that could well lose their eyes. His good eye roved the names of bars before he spotted a club. He recognised the name. A mob boss run thing, he was sure, but it would mean he didn’t get stared at with a knife on his hip underneath his jacket. Perfect. Jesse snapped his laptop closed and headed upstairs for a shower and to get appropriately dressed up.

 The hot water eased his sore back, but it hurt on the sensitive skin of his face. He covered his face with a hand to his forehead as he washed the smell and aches from himself. The soap was sensitive, and he carefully washed his face, making sure to get around his eyes, to avoid any form of gunky infections. Those had been hell when he was laid in the hospital bed recovering. Still, a great deal of more work on his face this past year had made him far more recognisable, but it wasn’t the same. He was still scarred and twisted, his nose looking rather out of place. He ran a finger over the rougher skin, where the scaring was worst, tracing back over his forehead from his eyebrow. They had managed to graft new muscle and replace areas that were damaged. He felt more human now, but nothing would ever replace how he used to appear. Still, Jesse had paid good money for his better face, and he would be damned if he didn’t use it a little. He turned off the shower and dripped in the wet room for a moment before he wrapped a towel around his waist and pulled his razor out to sheer the hair from his head. It was therapeutic. Jesse leaned over the water to catch the hair on the back of his head before he held his jaw and angled the mirror to check his face. Nothing grew anymore, but that didn’t stop him checking.

 He turned the mirror to his face and stroked the newly constructed nose. It had been four months of healing this time around. Plastic surgery galore. He’d had mountains of work since his run in with Princess’ little friend. He almost resembled a person. Still, he was scarred, and his eyebrows no longer grew hair along with his jaw. He was still blind in one eye, the brown eye cloudy. Jesse plucked his eyepatch from the shelf and replaced it before brushing his perfect teeth. He had paid too much money for most of himself to neglect it. He towelled himself off and walked from the bathroom to his room, stark naked, stretching his back before he plucked out his designer black shirt, trousers, and jacket. Once he was dressed, he pulled on his oxfords and pulled his case from underneath the floorboards. Jesse undid the latches and peered inside. The chrome skull stared back at him, along with the polished knives he used to remove pieces of his victims. The box of gloves sat nestled in the top corner but he didn’t put any on for the time being, letting his tattooed hands breathe. He pushed his fists together and looked at the two words. The words ‘FEAR’ and ‘PAIN’ looked back at him. With a final adjustment of his cufflinks, he took his wallet from the nightstand and left his house, activating the alarm and locking the door before he opened his Chrysler 300 and slid into the roomy interior. The engine roared to life before he pulled away from the drive. Jesse rolled down the tinted window before he pushed his middle finger out of it, flagging the neighbours who glared at him from their windows.

 The bar was half of a club with the back for exclusive clients, which ranged from those involved in mob work, to celebrities. Jesse tugged at the breast of his jacket as he let the eager doorman take his car around the back. He stopped him with a finger in the air and he unlocked his phone and typed into the speech app.

‘Open the trunk or my glovebox and I’ll have your fingers, bellboy.’

“Yes, Sir.” He swallowed as he climbed into the Chrysler, pulling it away smoothly into the back of the club. Jesse looked around, his silver mask shining in the gaudy lighting. The mob knew him. He was the one who moved the weapons through his shelter companies. He took care of some of their business, butchering people like pigs for them when they took his fancy, and in, exchange, they let him have his pick of their girls for his games. He stepped through the door and a bouncer waved at him from the curtain separating the areas. The bar went around both sides, but no one could see through the curtains. Jesse walked through the bar, passing a group of women in lingerie as the bouncer let him through the other side.

“Good to see you again.” He grunted, looking up at the man as he drew out his phone.

‘Did you miss me?’ Jesse snarked through the automatic voice.

“You’re hardly any trouble.” He tipped his head towards a booth, “Make yourself at home.”

Jesse walked past him and headed for his table, pulling the curtains back before he placed his briefcase down and slid inside, sighing with the low lighting. He relaxed back against the cushions and reached for the mask over his face. With a hum, he pushed his thumbs into the mild adhesive and plucked the piece of chrome free with a twist underneath his chin in order to apply a new layer.

 It was quiet at this side of the bar, the curtains blocking out a lot of the noise and the people that he didn’t want to look at. Exclusive. Jesse ran his fingers over the leather of the couch and hummed at the quality before he tucked his case beside him. The knife strapped beneath his jacket wasn’t going to cause any problems here. Jesse pulled the case around and listened as the curtains rustled beside him. He was used to this. The silver skull turned to face the red fabric and Jesse lounged back on his seat as it parted to reveal the curious face of the bartender. He smiled behind his mask at the professional wear, a shirt and bowtie on. His eyes roved lower behind the black material over his eyes, looking at the short skirt attached. Perfect. He greedily took in the sight, laid back against the cushioning, and slid his phone from his pocket.

 You nervously parted the curtains of the exclusive booth and poked your head inside. Great, you thought as you slid the notebook from your pocket, holding your pen in your hand as you tried not to stare at the silver mask leering ominously back at you. His head dipped to look at your legs, admiring the view.

“What can I get you, Sir.” You asked, pen poised to write on the paper, “Any food or are you just drinking?”

The man in the mask didn’t respond, but his fingers whizzed across the keyboard of the phone, typing out something across the screen. He turned the screen to show you the words, ‘Drink. A bottle of bourbon. The one at six hundred.’

“Okay. Do you want a glass and ice?” You asked carefully, watching as he tilted his masked face.

His fingers clicked rapidly across the keyboard again, ‘Two ice cubes. Crystal tumbler.’

You had his sort before, “Of course, Sir.” You ducked back out and replaced the curtains before you headed back towards the bar to grab the expensive, six-hundred-dollar bottle of bourbon whiskey.

 Jesse watched you through a small parting in the curtain, eyes following your backside as you returned to your colleague at the bar. He made sure to drop the curtain back into place as you turned from the bar and headed back towards him.

 “Your drink, and your glass.” You placed the bottle and the tumbler down in front of the chrome-faced man and watched his tattooed fingers twitch against the leather as he leaned over to inspect what you had brought him.

Lazily, he took hold of the bottle neck, and peered at the label before he nodded and typed rapidly on the phone again, ‘Thanks. Run along, Piggy.’

You nodded and left his booth alone, catching a glimpse of tattooed hands pouring a drink as the red curtain closed behind you.

“Rude asshole.” You muttered under your breath as you headed back towards the bar, where you were needed on the other side, with the normal clientele of the bar. They were perhaps worse than the questionable celebrities and mobsters of the exclusive side, but you could cope with serving the sex workers and incredibly drunk men.

 Joe gave you a look of concern as you came back through the curtain. He was an old man and had worked at the bar since he was young. He knew the sorts that tended to frequent the establishment. He leaned over towards you as you threw some glasses in the box for cleaning.

“Don’t fuck with that one.” He whispered, “The Boss doesn’t like him here, but he puts up with it. Rumour is he’s a bit of a knife for hire. Tends to get those jobs that required someone gutting for a video.” Joe scowled and rubbed at his moustache, “Stay far away and keep him happy with drinks.”

“Thanks, Joe.” You uttered before you served a beer, “What’s with the mask?”

Joe shook his head, “Best not to ask.” He then left you alone as you pulled pints of beer for a group. It wasn’t long before you swapped again into the back, smiling as you peered at the booths. You frowned as the curtain to the stranger’s flickered and he waved his hand before he curled his finger towards himself and pushed the phone through.

“Come here.” The automated voice called ominously, and you took a deep breath before you opened the bar door and headed towards the booth again, your notepad in hand. You parted the curtain and smiled at the mysterious man.

 What you saw shocked you a little. He’d taken the mask off, revealing his scarred face to you. You tried not to stare, you really did. Awkwardly, you maintained the smile as he stared up at you, brown eyes dark as though he was daring you to say a word. One was covered with an eyepatch.

The phone clicked away before the screen was presented, ‘Entertain me.’ The voice was absent this time.

You read the words and frowned, “I can offer you a food menu or a different drink, Sir.” You replied quietly, dreading the next words that were going to come out of his mouth, “Unfortunately we don’t have any live music…and other options are not in my job description.”

Tattooed fingers curled against the leather before he grinned, exposing, bright, white teeth in a vicious smile. His chest jumped before he gave out a breathy, long chuckle. He curled his finger again for you to properly step into the booth.

He typed on the phone again before holding it up for you to see, ‘I don’t want you to suck my cock. Sit. Talk.’

Suddenly, you felt a little bit stupid, “Talk? What about?” You were still suspicious of the man.

‘Your boss. He owes me something. I want to know more.’ He turned the phone back to himself and typed again, ‘Ever mention ChromeSkull?’

 Suddenly, you realised who he was. The personalised plates out the back of the bar, and the chromed mask in his lap. This was a dangerous man. Still, he was very capable of ending you now, with no one there to see.

“He doesn’t talk about business in the bar.” You swallowed nervously, “He only said he hoped he never saw your face in here again.” Your gut dropped as you realised either way, you might die.

‘Thanks, sweet thing.’ He typed and showed you before continuing, ‘Call me Jesse.’ You watched his face smile again and suddenly you realised that once he was very handsome. It looked like acid or chemical burn scarring. The mob liked to disfigure people as pay back sometimes, but you had an inkling his weren’t inflicted by the mafia.

‘What’s your name?’ He pushed the screen before your eyes as his fingers danced over the leather.

You cleared your throat and told him, “So are you here for payback?”

‘Something like that.’ He replied on screen, ‘Better company this time.’

Flattering but you still wanted out of the conversation. There wasn’t an opportunity to, however, because as you stood up to straighten yourself out, your boss walked into the booth.

 Judgemental eyes roved you up and down, spotting you playing with your skirt. Jesse was quick to turn and replaced his mask, before your boss could see, the medical adhesive painted along the seams and the area of his nose. He turned back to look at Antony, the owner, with the haunting black eyes of the chrome skull mask peering through him.

“Making yourself at home with my staff?” Antony shot as he pulled a cigarette from between his lips, his face twisted with a glare, “Pretty sure you’re not welcome here anymore.” He dragged a hand through his slicked back, brown hair and snarled viciously before he returned the cigarette to his lips for another nervous drag.

Jesse’s mask tilted before he pointed a finger through the curtains and let the automated voice speak for him, “Justin had no issue letting me in, Antony.” He continued, “Plus, you owe me.”

“If this is about that fucking weapons crate again. I swear to God I didn’t know it was rigged to blow.” He dragged on his cigarette again.

“You lost me a factory, Antony.” The automatic voice droned hauntingly, “And I still haven’t had the compensation.”

“You’ll get your money, shit face.” Antony’s hand twitched for his jacket.

 You panicked as Antony took a seat across from Jesse, his fingers steepled under his chin. It was tense, and you began to panic as Jesse loomed over in the man’s personal space. He was a giant, solid wall of power, and you instinctively took a step back.

Antony clicked at you, “Drinks. Pour them. One for our guest here too.” You nodded and dashed for another glass for Antony before shakily taking the bottle in your hand and pouring both of them shots.

Jesse ignored the drink as he took his silver briefcase and slammed it on top of the table. The wood shuddered under the force of the blow and you jumped as he snapped open the clips.

“Put your fucking knives away, Cromeans.” Antony scoffed.

Jesse slid his first, sharp hunting knife free from his hip and you swallowed as he took a camera from the case. The device had a stand that clipped to his shoulder and he snapped the little tripod on before tapping the top. A red light blinked on. Recording.

“Oh, so you’ve come for something to play with?” Antony laughed, “There’s a toy stood right next to you. Be my fucking guest!” He exclaimed.

 You gave a squeak as Jesse’s large hands grappled you by the waist, dragging you into his lap, your legs pinned between his own as he breathed down your neck. He trapped you as he reached for the box of black nitriles in his case. Methodically, he peeled one free at a time and tugged them over the black tattoos covering his hands. The black nitrile traced the edge of one knife before he span it once, twice, and then placed the edge of the blade against your neck. Your breath caught in your throat at the cold press of metal against your soft skin. His other hand trailed over the skin, his hot breath tickling your ear before he swiped the knife up and dragged the sharp side through your hair. You listened to him inhale before, tauntingly, he made a kissing noise next to your ear. The blade was replaced against your throat as he typed on the phone once more.

“I catch my own fish.” The voice droned before Jesse shook the phone teasingly in front of you, showing you the text he had typed out, ‘Though I don’t think I want to play with you, piggy. You’re too much of a deer.’

Antony scowled, “What the fuck does that mean…” He howled in agony as Jesse flicked the blade around again and slammed it through his hand. The fingers twitched before he drew his other knife and sliced the appendages free, pinning you in place with his legs as he watched blood spurt over the wood.

 Shock. You felt your heart burn as you wiggled backwards, closer to the killer’s chest before he peeled you free from his lap and dropped you back into the booth. Gruffly, Jesse slammed his bloodied hand over Antony’s mouth.

‘This piggy should have stayed home.’ His phone droned, again and again as the giant stood up, touching the tip of the hunting knife as he admired the shine of blood over the cold steel. With another flourish, he turned the saw half downwards and wrestled Antony over the wood, pinning him with a slam of his head before he dragged the saw downwards and watched skin and muscle part. He paused when Antony passed out and left the knife embedded in the man’s wrist as he looked back at you.

‘Look away.’ He typed with his clean hand. You did as you were asked, fear making you want to cry. He sawed the hand free and looked at the hand left, pinned to the table before he pealed his gloves free and brushed the bottom of your chin.

 “Look alive, sunshine.” The voice chittered, “Get moving.” It continued.

You opened your eyes and Jesse was quick to turn you away from the mess over the table.

“Up. Walk. Back exit.” The phone said. With a shuddering sigh, you got up. Jesse’s mask tilted before he offered his arm. You hooked your arm through his and almost cried as he shut the curtains and blocked you from the view of the other bar staff with his towering figure. His video was still recording.

“Why did you…” You were cut off by a sharp grip.

Jesse didn’t speak until you were both outside, his keys in one hand, snatched from the storage and  his phone held up to you in the other, “I taught them a lesson. They don’t fuck with me and get away with it.” He offered before he dragged you over to his car. You looked at the custom plates and the expensive brand. He laid his briefcase on the bonnet and sighed as he peeled free the chrome covered mask. Beneath was the same as before, heavily operated on with taught skin. A few scars were deep and heavy. His eye that was previously covered with an eyepatch was open, revealing itself as almost blind, the brown iris milky and covered. Still, he wasn’t a monster, just disfigured and evidently, through all the surgery, unhappy about what had occurred.

 “Staring is rude.” The phone whirred, “Should be staring elsewhere, sugar tits.”

You felt yourself go red, “You just killed a man! You don’t have any right to flirt with me after you just made me an accessory to murder!” You flew off the handle, “And now you’re taking me out back to end me too!”

Jesse grinned, white teeth clenched together dangerously as his knife curled and span idly, looking you up and down. He held up the phone nonchalantly, “No I’m not. I’m taking you home.”

“You…You’re joking.” You took a step backwards only for him to grab you once again, breathing in the smell of your hair as his knife traced down your chest. With a flick of his wrist he popped a button off your shirt.

His phone appeared in front of you again, ‘Home address.’

You swallowed and repeated your address for him quietly. He hummed behind you, the knife disappearing before he turned you to face him. His face dipped down to meet yours as he laid a single kiss over your lips.

‘Let’s go for a ride, baby.’

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

“Just let me finish this/this level and i swear ill go down on you until you cum at least three times.” SCREAMS josh 🤤

Ooo. yes. it. does. I had a great time with this one! 

* * * * *

Shopping with Jessica and Emily was always an adventure, especially since their relationship teetered between a neutral tolerance, an outright disgust, and a wish on both their parts for things to go back to the way they once were. But the one thing they always agreed on was their friendship with you, even if they didn’t always understand your love for Josh.

When it came to shopping, you craved Emily’s honest opinion, which she was always ready to give without any hesitance, but you also liked Jessica’s raw sensuality. After thirteen different options, the girls finally agreed on a lingerie set and because they agreed, you knew it was perfect.

“If that doesn’t interrupt his boneheaded Fortnite streak, I think you need to dump him,” Emily stated as you walked back to your car.

“He’s always been . . . well, he’s Josh! But he’s never been this obsessed with a fucking video game,” you vented, turning the key in the ignition.

“Mayyybe he’s bored with you?” Jessica politely offered.

“Jess!”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t take offense. I think what you bought today will go a long way to spicing things up. You look H-O-T, babe!”

You smiled and shook you head, hoping she was right. If this little number didn’t distract Josh, you were gonna be ready to throw in the towel.

* * * * *

With one final glance in the mirror, you adjusted your cleavage and admired the sexy little getup. It was a nude bra and panty set, the edging done with half-inch stripes of apple-green fabric. You paired the bra and panties with a sheer half-slip that was lined in that same apple green. If Josh loved you in a mini skirt, he was sure to love the way this half-slip sat at your waist and stopped just below the cheeks of your ass.

You gave your own ass a smack of encouragement and grinned as you walked out of the bathroom, feeling sexy.

Josh was, of course, engrossed in his videogame. He heard you, but he didn’t turn as he said, “Hey baby. Be done in a minute.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Josh. I think you need to be done now.”  

“Uh huh,” he mumbled, swearing as his avatar scrambled behind a building.

That did it. You walked directly in front of his gaming chair and stood with your hands on your hips. Josh’s eyes widened and he looked up and down your body greedily before craning his head to look at his game again.

“For fuck’s sake!” you said, still not moving.

“Just let me finish this level and I swear I’ll go down on you until you come at least three times,” he spat out in a rush as he continued to look around you.  

“Go down on your fucking self!” you yelled, but before you could breeze past his chair he was on his feet, scooping you up and tossing you onto the bed.

He pinned you down, his face serious.

“Did I stutter?” Josh snapped, quoting The Breakfast Club.

“Let me go,” you said weakly struggling against his hands and the weight of his body.

“I said . . . three . . . times,” he repeated from earlier as he pressed his lips to yours.

You turned your head to the side and snarked, “After I finish this level.”

“Mad about a silly game?” Josh teased. “Tsk, tsk.”

“A silly game that required me to go to great lengths to divert your attention from it!”

“You really are mad?” Josh said, sitting up a little and loosening his hold on you.

“When was the last time we went out?”

Josh opened his mouth, then froze, his eyes working over your face.

“When was the last time we had sex?”

“Now that,” Josh began confidently, then stopped, his brows furrowing together. “Shit.”

“Mmhmm,” you sassed, wiggling a little underneath him.  

Josh grew serious. He hated that he hurt your feelings, but it was difficult for him to say sorry, especially when he had been so far up his own ass he hadn’t realized anything was wrong.

You rolled your hips and his eyes refocused on yours. “You said something about . . . three times?”

“Y/N. I—I’m . . .”

“Show me you are.”

Josh couldn’t help the genuine grin that spread across his face as he finally released you and rolled onto his back, tucking his hands behind his head as he settled on the pillow.

“Clearly you splurged. Show daddy what you bought.”

You laughed and sat up on your knees, stretching your arms and then reaching down to adjust your half-slip.

“Ta-da,” you said with a sultry smirk.

“I gotta see this from the back.”

“All right. You can watch me shut off that goddamn game,” you said hopping off the bed and swaying your hips as you walked over to the gaming system.

You bent down, ass out and slowly turned the console off.

“Daddy like,” Josh purred. “Now turn around.”

You turned and placed your hand on your hip, raising your brow.

“Take those panties off. Nice and slow. But leave that little skirt on.”

Slowly, you wriggled your panties off, stepping out of them then giving Josh another twirl. By the time you turned around again, he had sat up and taken off his shirt. He patted his lap and you closed the distance and crawled onto him, Josh’s hands sliding up your thighs as you scooted closer. He ran his fingers up and under your half-slip, squeezing your ass cheeks before giving them a light smack.

“I have missed you,” he said, his voice low and needy.

You lowered down to kiss him, starting off slowly and then deepening the kiss as you felt his dick grow harder. Soon it was heated, tongues, teeth, and lips sliding together with a familiarity and a longing. And as you kissed, you felt Josh’s fingers reach between your folds, slowly spreading your arousal to your clit.

“Josh!” you gasped against his lips as he put pressure on your bud.

“Come on, sweet girl. Give me one,” he mumbled into your mouth as his fingers picked up their pace, slickening your clit and working his fingers in a v-shape.

“Fuck!” you cried out, grinding onto his fingers, your thighs trembling as you came.

“Next level,” Josh grinned, pulling his fingers from your pussy and plunging them into his mouth, sucking them off as he maneuvered you onto your back.

“Joshua Washington! Don’t you dare turn this into a game,” you scolded, still riding the high of your first cum.

Josh chuckled as he pushed up your skirt and spread your thighs. He started off by licking every inch of your pussy, taking your lips into his mouth and sucking, lapping at your core and plunging his tongue deep inside of you, and when you were writhing again, he moved up to your clit and began to tease it with his tongue before sucking, hard.

You groaned, low and deep, wanting to push your thighs together but Josh held you down, moaning around your clit before he sucked again, your second orgasm washing over you with an intensity that sent a flush of new arousal to your core.

Josh looked up, his eyes hooded with pleasure as he licked his lips then ran his hand over his chin.

“Boss level.”

You were still catching your breath, so your laugh came out in a choking sort of bark as you swatted at his arm.

“Stop that!”

“Gotta save the princess, peach.”

“Definitely stop that,” you scolded as Josh laughed and kissed his way up your stomach, pulling the cups of your bra to the sides so he could get his mouth on your nipples.

He was relentless in the way he worked over your body again, avoiding your pussy and focusing on all of your other erogenous zones until you were flushed and moaning for him.

He licked one last stripe up your neck and then stepped off to the side of the bed to take off his jeans and his socks. He wasn’t wearing underwear, which you knew was always a 50-50 shot with Josh.

His cock was rock hard and precum was smeared all around the head. Josh grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the edge of the mattress, taking your hands so you could sit up. He took your bra off and then reached down and gave your half-slip a firm yank, ripping it.

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

He pushed you back onto the bed and lined himself up with your soaking pussy. When he slid into you, his eyes fluttered shut and a long groan clawed its way from deep in his chest.

“Fuuuck Fortnite. How could I have been so stupid?”

“How could you?” you moaned back, eyes shut with the sensation of being filled by Josh’s big dick.

He slowly rocked into you, almost teasingly for the first few thrusts, then he pulled out entirely. Your eyes shot open and you watched as he lazily ran his cock over your clit, teasing you by rubbing it to the point of oversensitivity.

“You are fucking soaked,” he said as he pushed back inside of you and hooked your ankles onto his shoulders, using his hands to pull up your hips so you could meet his thrusts.

From this position, you could feel Josh hitting your cervix and it felt so good after coming twice. His thrusts were steady and deep and you could feel a whole-body orgasm building, almost to the point of it being too much, too much, too much, but just when it felt like your abdomen was twitching of its own volition, your body let go and you cried out Josh’s name, coming hard around his cock and taking him with you.

You didn’t even feel him come during the course of your third and most intense orgasm, but when you regained your senses, Josh’s sweaty curls were resting on your chest, his breathing heavy and his body growing heavier as he started to relax on top of you.

Not wanting to be squished, you wiggled at least half-way out from under him and he held up his hand, waving three fingers in the air.

“I swear to god,” you panted. “If I didn’t love you . . .”

“But you doooo,” Josh sang, rolling over onto his back and pulling you on top of him.

Exasperated, but completely happy, you grinned down at him. “Yeah. I do.”

[jessica-read]

Jess walked up from the beach after an afternoon of swimming and enjoying the sun on a spectacular and secluded beach in Sa Coma, on the east coast of Majorca. She was proud of her looks and the stunning English woman on holiday had gotten her share of cat-calls in the town and decidedly favorable looks from the men who walked past as she read her book and occasionally checked her email to be sure all was well back home. She also garnered friendly smiles from several women and decidedly frostier looks from women who seemed nonplussed at their men's obvious attraction to her sensual curves.

She arrived at her hotel after a 5 minute walk along the perfectly white sand, made herself a reservation for dinner at a nearby restaurant and then headed up to her room to wash away sunscreen in a luxurious sunken bathtub and make herself up before going out. Jess remembered the days when makeup was really not an option if she cared to be accepted in the world. Jess's flawlessly feminine face had come only after significant effort, for years, full makeup had been mandatory to cover her beard, and then with time, dozens of appointments for laser and electrolysis hair removal.

This evening however, she loved that she could apply those skills she'd learned for hiding an unwelcome part of herself, to rather lightly brighten and accentuate her feminine features. If Jess's work kept her from being as social as she would like, she had learned to be far more confident than in her past that her looks eased the path of the social time she did have.

In just a couple of minutes she had applied a translucent foundation, accentuated her eyes, opening them up, applied minimal blush and a brilliant shade of red for a classic, simple look. Satisfied, she adjusted her lingerie, a brand new white bridal set from Aubade, checked that her stockings were set just right and then donned a designer white dress covered with black polka dots, the skirt met the bodice a bit high, making for an appearance of even longer legs than she'd been blessed with. The tops of her white stockings were never at risk of exposure, her pretty bust was displayed to good effect, the dress's scoop neckline showed no hint of her balconette brassiere, which accentuated her bust beautifully without offering provocation.

Jess's hair had a natural wave, her hair fell about her shoulders, framing her face in shimmering golden brunette lock. Jess put in her brilliant pearl solitare earrings, clipped on a matching neclace and finished her outfit, picking up her small black clutch and stepping from her flats into 4" Louboutin heels. The red of the soles was a nice contrast to the red of her satin lipstick. She applied a touch of Coco Mademoiselle to her pulse points and enjoyed the sharp citrus oriental which blended well with her feminine scent.

Jess walked into the beautiful hotel lobby, built in solid stone with Venetian glass accents and the lingering scent of rich coffee over the waxed hardwood floors. Her heels clicked subtly against the dark wood and as she exited the front doors, she passed by a strikingly handsome man who was entering. Jess smiled shyly and then blushed prettily as the man briefly made eye contact and then took in her whole appearance, head to toe, failing to hide his obvious interest. He wore a dark blue suit over a brilliant white shirt. He was just shy of 6 feet tall, just an inch over Jess's height in her stilettos.

Walking the short distance to her restaurant, Jess wondered about her fellow guest at the luxury hotel. Clearly he was some sort of executive, however he must also be on holiday, as there is no industry on Majorca. She expected he must have noticed her flush, the flustered hitch in her stride as they passed. Jess had little experience of men. As a young girl who didn't understand how she came to be trapped in a boy's body, she had always been repulsed by the boys in her school talking crudely about girls. As she grew older and the boys conjectures and boasts turned to experience, Jess turned to books, school and music. She had begun to understand that she could not continue to live as a man and that it was possible to find another way. Those were some desperate years.

Jess's family wasn't accepting at first. In time, the slightly built girl did get to know a sensitive friend, Sadie, who shared her interest in history and the young woman was open to Jess's gender and she eventually asked Jess if she might think she was a girl? Initially shocked, and yet inwardly she felt an immediate relief that fir the first time she could remember, Jess felt seen, and no less by a woman as pretty as she hoped to be someday. They quickly became and remained fast friends and over the years as Sadie helped Jess gain a little understanding of the romance that happened between men and women. Sadie had a small crush on Jess, and accepted that as Jess came into her own, it was clear that she was attracted to men.

Jess did learn a little about romance from Sadie, the first thing was how it felt to have someone see you and care and she cherished that. As she confessed to Sadie that she was beginning to be attracted to a boy in their Junior year of high school, Jess realized a new thing in her young life. She had a strong desire to be cared for and her first crush was as strong as any young girl's. Jess and Sadie talked about what they might enjoy in a relationship, Sadie taught Jess how to kiss and they fumbled a little through the mechanics of how Jess might submit to her crush's attention if only he would notice her. Jess was flushed after their "lessons" and she realized that Sadie's attentions went a bit beyond teaching and she had to ask Sadie to stop as she knew she could never reciprocate the more experienced girl's affections. Sadie was crushed and yet each knowing the other had an entirely unrequited affection for someone unavailable, their friendship was not lessened.

As they went off to university, Jess had begun to occupy herself with plans to transition. They wound up at different schools, and their friendship remained strong and they would write to each other weekly. Jess did well in school and the summer after her senior year she had been on feminizing hormones for 3 years, she was now finally ready for her gender confirmation surgery. Because she'd been so fully occupied between studies and the demands of transition, she had had no time to explore relationships or casual romance. She had frequent enough suitors, and never the desire for reciprocating a man's interest. Remembering this past, Jess walked slowly and reflected that finally she felt fully ready for love and romance and realized that even more than her busy career, her shyness and inexperience kept her from seeking that.

What she had learned was to be intimate with herself. After so many years of feeling mostly disassociated from her body, a few months after her surgery, Jess had been laying in bed after watching a new romantic comedy, ready for sleep. That night she'd chosen one of her prettier nightgowns, a babydoll in silky taffeta and rolling to her stomach, her breasts feeling heavy under the weight of her body, still fresh from an earlier bath, she felt her nipples harden. The film had been silly, yet a few of it's moments had touched her more deeply and she'd felt both a slight tearing in her eyes and warmth in her vagina.

Now, laying in bed, feeling aroused again, she had rolled a bit to her side, lifted her hand to her breast and immediately felt a flood of warmth and a new tightness centered on her clitoris. She had reached down at first tentatively and touched herself there and in that moment, she'd felt something completely new. Jess proceeded to lay prone, her head tucked like a small bird's into her shoulder stroking herself through her silken underwear, then reaching inside to feel her wetness flowing.

After that night, she continued to explore. She did not find release, when she got to a certain excitement, she always found she began to lose control of her hands. She also didn't mind. What she had discovered was a deeper, more lasting pleasure than anything she'd even imagined and a small voice told her that what she craved most was to experience orgasm at the hands of a lover. She did, in any case, begin to understand her body, treasure her response and another part of her wondered how would she ever come to share this with a lover?

Arriving at her restaurant, Jess, was asked to sit at the bar as her table was ready. She sipped a celebratory glass of sharp, flinty sancerre. Her mood a bit wistful, wishing her first big holiday could be spent with a special beau. Just as that thought crossed her mind, the handsome gentleman from her hotel sat just down the bar from her. Surprised, she smiled and her smile was returned. Jess's heart skipped several beats ash she slightly panicked as the man stood and walked over to introduce himself, "Hello miss, I'm so glad to run across you so soon after seeing you in the hotel foyer!, I'm John Michaels, may I ask your name and maybe join you for a glass of wine?".

Once again surprised, Jess found herself nodding and she simply said "I'm Jess, I'd love to sit with you while they prepare my table". He ordered a chardonnay and asked what brought her to Majorca. Of course they were both taking solo holidays, both were early into challenging careers and celebrating important projects just finished. Jess was in a sense terrified and yet this also felt like the culmination of a long journey. Almost completely inexperienced, nonetheless here she was, enjoying a conversation with John; she felt attracted to him and was amazed that conversation just seemed to flow, and even the silences in their conversation felt comfortable.

The Maitre d’ approached and told Jess her table was ready. She looked to John and asked “would you like to join me for dinner?”. John replied enthusiastically “Yes, please.” and the Maitre d’ nodded and lead them to a table set for two.

Looking over their menus, they talked about the Spanish menu and quickly agreed on what to order and what they wanted to share in. That done and wine ordered, the settled in and John asked her “Would you tell me a bit about yourself?”

Jess sighed, smiled and replied “Sure, there’s not a whole lot to tell”, thinking to herself “and maybe more than he’ll want to hear”. She proceeded to relate her schooling, talked about her bookish tendencies, her hobbies and her new and satisfying career. They traded some thoughts on work life in the new millennium, John being easily 10 years older than Jess, had seen a bit more change in his professional life. They found a lot in common in their tastes for food, art and other leisure time and continued to talk over their first course.

As that was cleared, Jess decided it was time to let her companion know up front that she was not a cisgender woman. She knew too many men and women who’d been rejected for being trans and indirectly of the dangers of a romantic partner finding out someone was trans after the fact. With a gulp and a small frown she said “I should tell you something”. John was a perceptive guy and caught the change in her demeanor, wondering what news this beautiful woman was going to drop.

Jess started “Because I’m attracted to you, and you’ve been fairly clear in your interest in me, I feel I should share this up front. I’m quite flattered you like me and this can be a deal breaker for a lot of men so I want you to know that I’m a transgender woman. I don’t know if that is something I need to explain and I’m glad to if you want”.

John replied “Thank you for telling me and I can easily be clear, I’m completely enraptured already in who you are. I’m glad you told me and I’d like to assure you, you didn’t need to. I am not ambivalent to transition status, in that I’ve already decided I like you and that’s all I need to know. I hope you’ll feel free to share as little or as much additionally about transition as you wish.”

Jess felt an amazing wave of relief, worry over the need to navigate these disclosures wasn’t a small part of why she’d long avoided dating and she was deeply relieved that on her first time, it seemed to have gone so easily. She said “Ok, wow, I’m relieved and thank you for understanding, I have to say at the very least I was expecting to have to do some explaining. Let’s leave it at that for now and when and if we get more intimate, I’ll certainly want to share how my path got me to where we are today.”

The proceeded to eat a marvelous meal and talked about their lives, a little about families, a lot about university and work. They didn’t share a lot of exact interests or activities, and yet there were overlaps and Jess felt that they shared a certain sympatico which had warmed considerably after her disclosure. She was glad that he clearly didn’t warm to her the way she had seen some men had, clearly fantasizing about an exotic body. Perhaps even more, she was glad he hadn’t asked if she had had gender confirmation surgery. Jess was entirely surprised it had gone so smoothly. She’d talked to so many sexually active trans friends who’d had nightmarish experiences, she felt happy and a bit lucky tonight.

Having finished their dinner, John asked if he could walk Jess back to their hotel. Elated, she inclined her head, and smiled, assenting. They walked slowly, listening to the music ringing out from a nearby nightclub, the soft rhythm of small waves finding the white beach and the occasional night bird singing out. Pausing to call Jess's attention to the blanket of stars a-shimmer over their heads, John took her hand in his and said "Jessica, you are an amazing woman and I'm so glad we've met". Jess smiled, nodded her head and replied "Thank You kind sir, I have rarely felt much special except in negative ways, I feel you're too kind?".

At that, John gently pulled her to him, leaned down and slowly wrapping his arm behind her, pulled her close enough that her breasts touched his chest. He moved slowly and with deliberation, allowing her many slow moments to pull away. Jess's heart was racing and much as she could not believe this was happening, it also felt like finally turning the corner on a path encompassing a couple of decades. She met his eyes, nervously parted her lips and then looked down as he leaned over to kiss her.

Jess was shocked at the electricity she felt throughout her body as their lips met. A warmth built in her abdomen. John's tongue sought hers and she responded to her first kiss since experimenting with Sadie and the first time ever that she truly wanted the overture she was receiving. Their kiss lasted and developed more passion and soon Jess began to feel that warmth in her core expand both to a flush across her chest and a distinct throbbing and flow of weness under her lacy underthings.

Her new beaux's hands moved smoothly to her thigh and to cradle the back of her head, pulling her hps to him and gently easing her head back, he began to kiss all over her face and neck, gentle yet also firm and assertive. Just as Jess was certain she was ready to give in to this moment, John felt that in her response and now lifted his hand up her torso, feeling her curves, Jess realized he must be noting the outlines of her fancy knickers, suspender and brassiere. Johns hand stopped at the swell of her breasts and closed, controlling her body through the soft fabric and firm yielding flesh.

Jess gasped and sought his mouth with hers, her reservations swept aside, she craved being taken by this calmly assertive man, now it was her pelvis that sought out his, feeling his hardness, she mewed and turned her lips towards his, mewling a little as she did and reading her desire he returned his mouth to hers and began a kiss more passionate than the last. Now John's hand shifted from her head down her body to lift the hem of her dress where he caressed her over the top of her stocking and slowly moved up toward her center. Now Jess was completely overwhelmed, throwing caution to the wind she welcomed submission to this attractive, sensitive man.

And just as quickly they slowed as they heard a group of voices, both men and women approaching on the other side of a line of trees. Gently, John slowed and afraid for a moment, Jess found herself glad of the interruption. For all the desire she felt to give in to the moment, she didn't want others to see her in dishabille, even on a romantic dark night in the Spanish Med. Their passion momentarily cooled, Jess met John's eyes, pulling away a fraction, she also leaned in to kiss him affirmatively. She knew she was ready to submit to what this man wanted for them this evening. As they kissed, John took her hand again and then said to her "Can I take you back to your room, or mine?".

Jess hesitated a fraction as the butterflies moved up from her belly to her chest, and then hesitantly answered "Yes, let's go to mine, please". Still holding hands they walked back to the road and along it under brass lamps and palm trees and a deep black Mediteranean sky, studded with stars.

Crossing back through the entrance where they'd met, Jess felt yet another small realization, she'd already had so many firsts tonight, a first kiss in passion, a first romantic date, her first experience of someone taking her to a place of pleasure. Now she was walking into a hotel with a man she'd met that very evening, past the desk staff and concierge, almost unbearably conscious that these were witnesses to her crossing a threshold with a significance only she knew -- was likely to be the loss of her virginity.

Jess was conscious of blushing and had a moment of fear that all those people would see her redness. And then, as quickly, she let go. Jess was 24, an adult and had worked diligently for a dozen years to make this reality possible. Still, feeling the butterflies, she was determined to own this moment.

In the elevator, she pressed the button for her floor, the fifth and then moved closer to John and lifted her lips for another kiss. She certainly didn't feel fully confident, however she had learned in university and her career that when she knew she'd put in the work to be ready for a thing, then doubts were best dispelled by taking the single step.

At her floor, they stepped out together and she turned toward her room, slipped the key into the old door and turned the lock. John gently pushed the door open and let her lead the way where she turned on one light dim by the bed, then turned off all the others and stepped to him. John said "are you OK, do you want to make love tonight?". Jess nodded her head emphatically and said quietly yet firmly "Yes, I am, please".

John now sat on the bed and motioned for her to come to him, she slipped off her heels and offered her mouth to his which he took passionately. Once again, his tongue sought out hers, she now turned her hands to his strong shoulders, down over his body, steadying herself as she felt anything but steady inside. It was as if her usually steady center had been replaced by an uncertain landscape and she enjoyed using him as a new center for her gravity.

John now reached to Jess's back and found the zipper to her dress. Gently opening the fastening, he caressed her back and she again felt her core go liquid hot and held him tight to steady herself. As the field of black dots over white slid down her body to crumple about her legs, John gasped as if he had never seen as lovely a sight. Jess was aware also that against her lightly tanned skin, the pearls, the bridal-white lace lingerie was brilliant and framed her curves so well, she had no doubt she was desirable.

Once again he took her firmly in his hands, one on her left breast, another on her waist and felt her quiver at his touch, then gently guided her to sit beside him on the bed. John stoold and began to disrobe himself. His body was barely tanned as he removed his shirt. His physique was beautiful, reasonably chiseled and yet he did not look like a gym addict. Next he removed his shoes and socks, set them carefully away from the bed and then, unfastening his belt, stripped off his trousers and underwear togther.

Jess took in his body and was glad he was so handsome. She didn't require this, and at the same time, didn't mind, she also immediately took in that his penis was not small and was semi-erect, a little intimidated, she was also drawn to it, aching to discover what it would be like as they made love. She pulled back the coverlet and sheets and moved herself to lay on the bed on her side, making it clear she wanted him to now take the lead. He now moved beside her, moved her hand to her hip, kissed her hard and urged her to lay back for him.

Jess melted into the bed as she felt her first man move over her, his manhood hanging down to graze her hip as he placed a leg between hers to nudge her to slightly part them, making way for him. He traced his lips down to her breasts and kissed, taking them in his hands to let her know he considered the sensitive flesh to be his property and then pulled his thumbs up to lightly roll her already hard nipples, electrifying them and sending a jolt down to her pussy. Rubbing his now fully erect shaft aginst the mound between her legs, he returned to her mouth and took his ownership, penetrating her lips with his tongue. Jess's pelvis now rocked to meet his motions and for a while they simply kissed like that as she became more aroused by the moment. John brought her hand to his shaft now and let her feel its silken covered hardness, its weight and told her to stroke him. She complied eagerly and she realized that right then what she wanted most was for him to penetrate her.

John had a different plan. slowly pulling away he now knelt between her legs slipped his fingers under her lace white underwear, and, urging her to lift her hips, pulled the high waisted garment off and down her legs. He then brought his face to her mound and used his tongue and lips to begin teasing her into a place she had wanted and yet not fully imagined. John wandered over her flesh, nibbling here, probing there, seeking for her clitoris and finding it caressing her body with his hands as he drove her towards ecstasy with his mouth. He traced her suspender belt, up and down her stocking clad leg as Jess began to writhe and again, rock her hips to meet him. Now he added first one and then two fingers inside her, lightly exploring her wetness, learning her response before taking her the way they both knew she wanted and now urgently needed.

Jess could feel an orgasm was close. and wanting it, she also now wanted her lover to make her his by taking her as she had always imagined being taken by a lover. As if by command, he now rose and sat up to caress her breasts and look into her eyes. "Are you ready for me Jess?, may I take your virginity?". "Yes, please John" she said, "I can't believe this is happening and yes it's what I want". He took her head in his left hand, holding her by her long hair and then taking his shaft in his other hand, brought it to her entrance, which was slick with her arousal, he rubbed the head slowly into her, lubricating himself and a the same time bringing a gasp from her, followed by a quiet moan "Yes, oh John, please take me now" she said.

leaning forward, he now ran himself up and down over Jess's clitoris, making them both even more ready and then let himself slowly into her. He held himself back a bit, watching her closely as he filled her a little at a time and seeing that she winced a little and then moaned again in deep pleasure, he finished filling her. Now John slowly stroked inside Jess, taking pleasure as she parted her legs farther and made room for him to take her more deeply, her white stockings against his skin and then her breasts being lightly crushed as he lowered himself to embrace her tightly and began to thrust harder. Jess moaned and was vaguely aware of her gladness that the walls were stone and anyone in an adjacent room would be unlikely to hear her ecstacy. As he felt her arousal build, he continued to penetrate her deeply, faster, slower, more or less deeply yet always insistent on seeking pleasure for both of them.

Soon Jess felt an inevitable climax upon her. Lost from any sense of control, completely wrapped up in this beautiful man taking her for both his pleasure and hers, she now began to quiver and then her orgasm exploded from her core and out to her whole body. She was a goddess, clad in virginal lace being driven to a height she could only experience. Oblivious to all around her, she held this man to her as he took her forcefully. She nearly lost consciousness and, feeling her slow and relax, for the moment spent, he now slowed and simply rested inside her as she rode out the after-shocks of her first orgasm.

John now wanted to take his weight off of his beautiful new lover and he easily rolled over, still filling her and handily flipped her astride himself. Already rousing from her bliss Jess knew she wanted one more thing, to see him finish and to take him into herself again as he did. She smiled and said "Oh my, that was amazing and I don't think you have come yet, can we continue?".

Smiling back, John nodded. He held her by her waist and began to thrust again. Jess immediately felt her pleasure rise again and sensed that now John was ready to take his own from her. Indeed, his hands now roamed down over her suspender belt and stockings, yet again tracing the curves of the lingerie, her broad hips and then back to hold her breasts. She was amazed to now find her new lover was fully suspending her weight in his strong arms. While she was astride, there was no doubt that he was in control and he now entered her at the pace he wanted, caressing where he would and taking his pleasure in her body. Jess felt deliciously used, wanted and above all controlled, now she was a plaything for his pleasure. Again, she moaned without control and while she could feel his climax was coming, in her rapture at being so completely controlled, she now orasmed again.

Jess now went virtually limp as John continued to penetrate her and lowered her down to him to kiss her deeply as he finished their coupling. She was little more than a rag doll now, her second orgasm released and now echoing in after-shocks receding as he finally built to his finish. Jess felt him explode inside her and the shred of consciousness she kept hold of now coalesced in a sense of pride that she was strong enough to allow herself to be used for a lover's pleasure.

Now they collapsed together. Jess had 5 days left to her holiday and she knew she would spend much of that with John. She drifted off thinking to herself: "my lover".

Written by @sadies-musings

[greenbriar-j]

double date?

The girl before me looks so good, my heart palpitates. The black skirt hugs her hips just right and shows just the right amount of leg going into those classically simple high heels. At the same time, the blazer is stylishly large and a mauve color, paired with a white top and gold jewelry. She’s tucked neatly under the arm of a certain blonde Atherton boy – who also suddenly has a sense of style, like he walked out from one of Max’s magazine shoots.

And then, of course, there’s Emerson, smirking at me from in front of them. I run up and drape my arms over her shoulders, still eyeing Aiden and June warily. “I didn’t know you guys were coming along.”

“I didn’t either, if it makes you feel better,” Aiden quips. June crams an elbow into his side. “Julian is scheming something again.”

Emerson shoves me off her, evidently tired of being smothered by my godly physique. “You need to go on a diet.”

“You need to start working out,” I counter. “If I needed a diet, my mom would have said so. I weigh as much as a feather, Ms. Spaghetti Arms.”

“I’m going to-“

“Stab you, yes, but you don’t have a knife, so-“ I stick my tongue out at her.

“Emmie, catch.” Right after Aiden says that, something flies through the air. Emerson fumbles it for a long few seconds before it clatters to the ground.

She picks it up, turning the ornate floral blade in her hands. It’s an exquisite and elegant object, and not one I expect Aiden to know or care about. And yet. “Aiden, I’m not actually stabbing him.”

“Keep it for when you are.”

June elbows him again, and he hisses. While Aiden stares at June with puppy eyes, the two girls have some exchange in Vietnamese. Knowing both of them, they could either be complimenting us or making fun of us, and their faces wouldn’t look any different in either case.

-

When was the last time I wrote enough to post 4 excerpts in a day?

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