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nerdyfangirl67 · 3 years

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A Piece of You - Criminal Minds Reader Insert

Pairing: Spencer x fem!reader

Warning: Spencer in prison, angst!, language, post prison!Spencer, PTSD symptoms, fluff ending

Word count: 5951

Short summary: Reader finds she is pregnant just as Spencer is sent to prison.

A/N: Y/F/N means your first name. Y/L/N means your last name. Y/N means your name. And Y/C/M means your comfort movie. I chose for the baby in the fic to be a girl, but feel free to change it when you read it. I found a blog post on the internet that stated Reid was in jail for about 84 days, so I added some to accommodate time for travel, etc and am going with it. I also changed a few things, like Spencer coming home without the reader knowing and I didn’t include his mother as much either, to add to the storyline. And I added/made up a few details with the whole prison call/visit things so it may not ring true. Link here: click

A warm pair of lips placing feather-lite kisses on your face pulls you away from the comforting arms of sleep. You sluggishly open your eyes, blinking the blurry figure leaning over you in the darkness of the bedroom into focus.

“Spence?” You drawl out, reaching a hand up to weave into his curly hair. “Don’t go.” He lets out a small laugh as he gently unthreads your hand from his hair. “I’ve got to go Y/N.” He says reluctantly, moving to rest his forehead against yours for a moment. You close your eyes, reveling in the intimacy of the moment.

“I love you.” You murmur, your breath fanning across Spencer’s face. You reach up enough to press your lips against Spencer’s in a tender kiss. “Come home safe.”

“I love you too Y/N. Go back to sleep.” He says as he brings the comforter back up over your shoulders. “I’ll be home before you know it.”

If you had known that the kiss you’d given Spencer before he left for his trip to Mexico would have been the last you’d be able give him for the next 89 days (you had been counting), you would’ve made it more than a sleepy, wet kiss as you yearned for your bed. You would have hugged him tight, pressing your face into his chest, deeply breathing his musk in as you listen to his heartbeat. You would have pulled him in for two, three, four more kisses, murmuring words of love between each.

Most importantly, you would have told him what you had found out only the night before when he had been at work, that you were pregnant. If only you had known what was to happen, you could have saved yourself from the hell to come.

---

No matter the case, Spencer always made sure to call, or at the very least text, you once a day. But after two days of radio silence, you were starting to worry. You had called him twice, leaving him a message each time asking him to call you when he could. You sent him quite a few text messages as well, becoming more and more concerned as time passed but you receive no call back from him.

By the fifth day, despite having sent a number of additional text messages and leaving enough voicemails to fill Spencer’s inbox, you still hadn’t heard from him. You are so worried that you can hardly focus at work. In fact, you are so distracted by thoughts of Spencer being kidnapped or him being shot and bleeding out in an alley that you got pulled into your boss’s office and reprimanded for your “airhead behavior”, as your boss had put it. When you arrive home, you are gripped with such anxiety and fear that you can only grab one of Spencer’s large sweaters and curl up in bed with it. You can’t even bring yourself to take off your shoes.

The ringing of your phone early the next morning pulls you from the trance you had been in all night. You frantically start looking for your phone and quickly find it on Spencer’s side of the bed, answering it without looking at the number.

“Spencer? Is that you? Are you okay?” You blurt out, not allowing the other person to talk before you are firing questions at them.

“Is this Y/F/N Y/L/N?” The voice on the other side asks quickly, stopping you. You immediately know it isn’t Spencer, just as much as you know that it isn’t someone you know.

“Yes. May I ask who this is and what it is regarding?” You ask nervously, your heart quickening as you wait what feels like an eternity for them to answer.

“I’m Penelope Garcia and I work with Spencer at the FBI.” She pauses for a moment, as if trying to find the right words to continue. “You were the most called number in the call log on Spencer’s phone and I felt like this is something you should know, as he seems to be someone very important to you, and vice versa.” The brokenness of her voice causes the worry in your chest to bubble up again. “Spencer is in jail...in Mexico.”

“Wh-what?” You struggle to wrap your mind around what she is saying as you climb out of bed, rushing to find your discarded jacket and set of keys from the night before. You aren’t entirely sure why you’re rushing, or even where you’d be going, but that doesn’t slow you down. “Was there a case in Mexico? What happened?”

“There wasn’t a case. He took some personal days and went to Mexico for some experimental medication for his mother. He...um..he was arrested for murder, but he doesn’t remember anything.”

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to sit in one of the living room chairs as you try to fight off the sobs rising in your chest. “Is he, is he going to stay in Mexico? I mean, is he, no, when will...he didn’t do it.” You stammer out, as you try to slow your racing thoughts, stop the inevitable tears from falling, and make your word coherent.

“Miss Y/L/N, I don’t have the answers to those questions yet. But, I can keep you updated if you’d like. The team left a few hours for Mexico to help Reid. They want to get him transferred to a prison in the states.” Her voice is comforting, but does nothing to tamp down the feeling of impending disaster that is rising in you. You manage to get out a shaky goodbye to Penelope before you lose grip on your emotions.

You struggle to get a proper breath through the onslaught of tears as the reality of the situation hits you. Your phone clatters to the floor as you bury your face in your arms, drawing your legs up to yourself as you try to push it all away. Eventually the tears slow and stop. You gradually unfurl from the cramped up position you had been in. You numbly make your way to the kitchen and somehow manage to make yourself breakfast. The rest of the day passes in a hazy blur, with you almost forgetting that you were supposed to be at work (you called in sick once you remembered, but your boss wasn’t happy the call was coming in three hours late). You spend the night, clutching Spencer’s pillow and wishing that this were all a dream. You don’t fall asleep until the early hours of the morning, when the exhaustion of the last few days finally overtakes you.

The ringing of your phone wakes you later that morning, serving as a reminder that you have to face the day ahead, as much as you don’t want to.

“Y/F/N? This is Penelope with the FBI. I called you yesterday about Spencer.” Her greeting has you sitting up, trying to clear the foggy cloud from your brain so you could think.

“Penelope, have you found anything else out? How is Spencer?” You plow over any possible pleasantries as you ask the question that had been on your mind for the last day.

“The team was able to get him extradited to the United States.” She starts, her words helping to ease some of the anxiety that had built up since you had learned about Spencer’s imprisonment. “He isn’t out yet, but the team is working on his case. In the meantime, I’m setting up a visitor schedule. If you’d want to come down to Quantico, I can help you fill out the necessary paperwork and get on the schedule to see him, if you’d like.” You quickly voiced your agreement and after getting directions and setting a time, you hung up with Penelope, your mood considerably elevated for the first time in days.

A glance at the clock has you scrambling out of the bed and to your closet. You had completely forgotten about the doctor’s appointment you had scheduled days ago, before your world had been flipped upside down. You manage to get dressed and ready to go in less than ten minutes, arriving at your appointment only a few minutes late.

Your appointment is short as the doctor just does a routine exam, confirming your pregnancy and letting you know that the baby was healthy so far. You receive a list of different things to avoid (such as caffeine and smoking) and a few different things that are beneficial to your, and the baby’s, health (such as prenatal vitamins). After your appointment, you quickly stop at the store to pick up a few things suggested by the doctor, before heading back to Spencer’s apartment, where you had been staying. Although he had never officially asked you to move in, you had been staying at his apartment most nights for the past few months and had your own drawer and spot in his closet. And with the events of the past few days, it had just felt right to stay, almost as if you had one small part of him still with you.

You go to bed early that night, really early, in hopes of getting the time to pass quicker. The prospect of seeing Spencer has you anxious and excited at the same time, making sleep nearly impossible. After a few hours of tossing and turning, with no sleep, you climb out of bed and get dressed. You grab your purse and keys before leaving the apartment. You walk the short distance to your car and start it. Despite knowing that you would be hours early to your meeting with Penelope, you still start the drive to Quantico and the FBI building.

After almost an hour in the car, and twenty minutes with security (in which they had to confirm your meeting with Penelope before they gave you a visitor credential), you finally made your way to the floor where the BAU team worked. Your eyes scan the bullpen and immediately you recognize Spencer’s desk, even though you had never seen it before. You recognize the pattern in which the items are placed and the semi-clearness of his desk space; it is identical to the desk he uses for work at home. You make your way towards it, tracing a finger along the fake wood edge as you take a seat in his desk chair. Sitting here, you can almost feel his presence behind you, his voice speaking up, sharing an idea he had or some crazy fact, his fingers tapping along the edge of his desk. You take comfort in the feeling as you rest your head in your arms on his desktop. It isn’t long before you are closing your eyes and falling into a light sleep.

A tap on your shoulder jerks you awake, causing you to fly up in a sitting position and blink at the harsh light of the bullpen. “You must be Y/F/N Y/L/N. I’m Penelope Garcia.” A cheery blonde, wearing a bright orange dress and matching hair accessory, as well as holding a bright pink pom topped pen.

You stand, smoothing out any wrinkles in your outfit before offering a hand out to her. “Yes, that’s me.” She takes your hand but instead of shaking it, pulls you into a hug. You are taken back by her forwardness, but give her a squeeze in return.

“Let’s go see what we can do to get you on the visitor list.” She says softly, leading the way to what you could only describe as her office, although it more resembled a cave, filled with more types of technology than you would know what to do with.

Penelope gestures to a black swivel desk chair set next to the wall. “Here, take a seat. I’m going to pull up Spencer’s information and see if we can get you some visitor paperwork.” She says as you take a seat in the chair. The longer you sit there, the more nervous you feel. Unconsciously, you rest your hand on your lower stomach, right over the small bump that was starting to form.

You don’t realize that you are zoned out until Penelope clears her throat. “Are you okay?” She nods at your hand resting on your stomach. You quickly pull it away, straightening up in your seat. “Yes, I’m fine.”

She gives you a long stare before speaking. “I have some good news and some bad news Y/N.” You nod, waiting for her to speak with bated breath. “The good news - you can call Spencer.”

You wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t. “And the bad news?”

“I can’t add you to the visitor list. It seems that Spencer doesn’t want you to come see him as a visitor.” She can’t look you in the eye as she says that.

You are quiet after that, not entirely sure what to say. The thought that he doesn’t want to see you hurts. But you also know Spencer, and whatever the reason, you know he has one.

“He can take a call in about five minutes if you want to get on the call list.” She says, looking up from one of her monitors at you. You nod quickly, before voicing your agreement. The five minutes of waiting seemed to go on forever, but finally, she is patching through to a prison phone. “Here you go, he should be on the other line now.” The fact that she immediately gave the phone to you, instead of taking some of the time to talk to him, had you smiling gratefully at her. ‘Thank you’, you mouth as you take the phone.

“Spencer? Is that you?” You ask, your heart in your throat as you wait to hear his voice.

“Y/N, it’s so good to hear your voice.” He speaks quietly, the low quality of the phone call causing his voice to crackle.

“I know you didn’t do it Spencer. Whatever they are saying, it isn’t true.” You whisper, clutching the handset close to your ear, as if that would bring him closer to you.

“Y/N...I don’t know-” He starts but you cut him off, knowing he was going to tell you he wasn’t sure what had happened.

“I know Spencer, but I also know you. And that isn’t who you are.” You say thickly, as you fight back the coming tears. “I want to see you Spencer. Why don’t you have me on your visitor list?”

“I don’t want you to see me like this. I don’t want you to see me here.” You start to argue that it doesn’t matter, but some yelling in the background cuts you off, after which Spencer says, “I’ve got less than a minute Y/N before I’ve got to hang up.” He says solemnly, the sorrow in his voice echoing the sorrow you felt.

You push aside the topic of seeing him, not wanting to waste what little time you had left talking to him by arguing. “I love you Spencer. Don’t forget that okay? I don’t care how long it takes, we-I will be here when you come home. You have a lot of people here in your corner Spencer. They will get you out.” You push back the tears as you talk, not wanting him to hear you cry.

“Gosh, I love you and I miss you. I wish I was th-” His voice is cut off, followed shortly by a dial tone.

You grip at the handset, calling “Spencer? Spencer?!”, wishing for him to respond.

“I’m sorry Y/N. The call ended.” Penelope says quietly. You hand over the handset, moving to sit back in the swivel chair against the wall, roughly wiping away the evidence of your tears as you do.

“What do we do now?” You ask through the tears.

“We wait. The team is working on his case and I will keep you updated on everything that happens. Do you need anything?” She asks, giving you a good look.

You are telling her before you consciously realize what you are doing. “I-I’m pregnant. I just found out and I haven’t had the chance to tell Spencer. I don’t know what to do. I want to tell him when I can see him face to face, when he can enjoy it for what it is, a blessing. But I hate hiding things from him.”

Penelope gives out a little squeal, bouncing up from her chair to hug you tight. “Oh, you are gonna have a baby Reid!” She says loudly, taking a step back from you. The look on your face must have given away the shock on your face because she is quickly apologizing. “Oh my goodness, I am so sorry. What can I do to help Y/N?”

“I just, I need someone to talk to. I miss him, a lot. It’s hard to be going through this alone.” You whisper, looking down at your hands in your lap.

“Girl, you don’t have to ask. I’d love to be your friend.” She says excitedly, giving you a soft shoulder bump. “And I’m going to do everything I can to get the boy wonder home to you.” She gives you a small smile. “And your little one.”

---

The days follow a routine after that. Work, talking to Penelope, and the occasional doctor’s appointment. Penelope comes to some of the appointments as support, which you appreciate, and when you find out the gender, she insists on going shopping for baby items with you. You are able to talk to Spencer a few more times, although each phone call is shorter than the last, and leaves you missing him even more.

Each doctor’s appointment is harder than the last. All you could think of when you hear the baby’s heartbeat is that Spencer wasn’t there. All you could think of when you feel the baby move for the first time is that Spencer might never be able to feel your baby move like that. He might never get the chance to feel your baby kick. All you can think of when you hear the gender of your baby is that Spencer might never get to experience that excitement, that joy, of imagining all the future things that might be in store for the baby.

---

Late one evening in early May, after a long day at work (which you had spent almost entirely on your feet) and a feeling of nausea that had lasted all day, you dig through Spencer’s side of the closet and grab one of his cardigans. You pull it on, wrapping around you as well as you can with your growing belly getting in the way.

You grab one of the many books resting on Spencer’s side table, taking it with you as you head to the living room. You pull the afghan blanket off of the back of the leather wingback, carrying it with you as you move to the dark leather couch. You get comfortable, wrapping the blanket around your legs and waist before opening the random book you had grabbed.

It isn’t long before the story has your eyelids drooping and your muscles relaxing, giving into the cloud of exhaustion that hung over you. The book, forgotten and half-open, falling to the floor doesn’t wake you, and neither does your cell phone, distant and tinny, as it rings from the bedroom. You don’t wake at the jingling of a key in the lock or the opening of the apartment door. However, the heavy thud that follows the apartment door falling shut has you jerking awake, one hand coming to rest on the swell of your abdomen, the other on the back of the couch. You struggle a bit to sit up, but when you do, after taking a moment to study the intruder, you realize it’s Spencer.

“Spencer?” You whisper, moving slowly from the couch, not entirely sure if he was real or a figment of your imagination. Either way, you didn’t want to scare him away. You stop when you are a foot from him. You search his light brown, almost hazel eyes, the pain and darkness within them, swirling around and hardening his expression. You tentatively reach out with your hand to caress his face. Your fingers slowly graze his stubble covered jaw before you move to rest it against his cheek.

He leans into your touch, bringing his large, rough hand up to cover yours. Your eyes fill with tears, causing your view of him to become blurry and before you can stop yourself, you are throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as you can get.

He is quick to return the hug, but after a brief moment, he becomes stiff, his arms sliding loosely down your back. You step back, feeling hurt and confused at his sudden rejection of your affection.

“What’s wrong?” You murmur as you roughly wipe a hand across your face, trying to get rid of the tears that were running down your face.

“You’re pregnant.” He states, his eyes no longer looking at your face, but instead, your belly.

Your heart beats faster, a rush of excitement going through you. This was it, the moment you’d been waiting for. You’d finally get to tell Spencer that he was going to be a father.

“Spencer, it’s ours.” You answer softly, gently taking his hand in yours and placing right above where the baby typically kicked. “You’re going to be a father.”

“I-I am?” He questions in disbelief. His hand, which had been rigidly resting on your belly, slowly relaxes just as the baby kicks. He jerks his hand away, stepping back and bumping into the door. He brings his hands up, pushing them into his hair. His fingers grip onto the long, curly locks as uses his palms to cover his eyes.

“No, this isn’t happening, it’s a dream. I don’t deserve this.” He is rambling now as he slowly slides down the door, landing in a sitting position. His face is still covered with his hands as he continues to ramble. “This isn’t real. I don’t deserve this.”

“Spencer?” You murmur, keeping your voice low, but audible as you kneel down beside him. You place a gentle hand on his arm, afraid that your touch might startle him. He doesn’t move as he continues to talk to himself. You bring your other hand up to cradle his still covered face. You stay this way for a long time, holding him as much as he’ll allow in his closed off position. Eventually, he stops muttering to himself and is quiet. You shift then, until you're sitting next to him against the door.

“Lie down, Spencer.” You whisper softly, brushing a lock of his hair back away from his face when he turned to face you. You slide your hand from his hair and over his shoulder, gently pulling him down towards you. He didn’t resist, placing his head in your lap and allowing you to run your fingers through his hair.

The two of you stay that way until your butt goes numb from sitting in the same place for so long. You squeeze Spencer’s shoulder with your hand to get his attention. “Let’s go to bed, Spence.” You say. He slowly gets up, offering you a hand as he does, avoiding any accidental brushing of your stomach as he did. You keep his hand in yours as he leads the way to the bedroom, only letting go when you move to your side of the bed and get in. He is gone for a few minutes, coming back with a low-slung pair of gray sweatpants and an old college T-shirt on. He gets in bed, but instead of wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close as he usually did, he simply laces his fingers through yours.

Weeks pass this way, with you and Spencer going back to life as it was, or at least as much as the two of you could with Spencer’s new work schedule and the fact that you were getting closer and closer to your due date. The fact that things remained the same though, as they had been when Spencer arrived home for the first time, was what worried you.

Never once did Spencer engage in the conversations you started about the baby or the nursery you wanted in the small spare room across from the bedroom you and Spencer shared. Whenever you commented that the baby was kicking, he found some excuse to leave the room. He still only ever held your hand at night, completely avoiding your ever-growing belly both in bed and anywhere else. It was almost as if he was trying to pretend as if you weren’t actually pregnant, as if what was happening wasn’t reality. Not only were you constantly uncomfortable, tired and just all around ready for the baby to come, but you were frustrated that Spencer still acted as if you weren’t pregnant, as if anytime within the next few weeks you wouldn’t be handed a newborn, making the two of you parents. You had finally had enough when you had mentioned going shopping for baby supplies about two weeks prior to your due date and he ignored you, continuing to wash the dishes. At first you thought he hadn’t heard you, so you repeat yourself, but when he acted much the same way a second time, you slam your hand on the table.

“Spencer, you can’t ignore this pregnancy. It may not be something you want right now, or ever, but you can’t just ignore it.” You snap at him, the irritation you had been feeling at his callous behavior finally surfacing. He doesn’t answer as he continues to wash the dishes from dinner. You can tell he heard you though, by the unnecessary sheer force he was using to scrub the plate in his hand.

“Spencer,” you pause, waiting until he is looking at you before continuing. “You have to find a way to accept it. This baby is coming.” Your tone is softer now, but your words don’t hold any less bite.

“I can’t accept it Y/N. Accepting it means it’s reality.” He lets out a harsh, joyless laugh. “And the reality is that I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve a baby. And I definitely don’t deserve this life with you.” He is no longer facing you, rather his back is to you, his shoulders tensed and hunched.

You place a tender hand on his elbow, wanting him to turn so you could see his face. Instead he roughly pulls his elbow out of your hold, flinging soapy water through the air before returning to the plate. “Spencer, look at me.” You try to speak clearly, steadily, but your voice cracks, betraying the emotion behind your words.

He does as you ask, but his face is twisted and dark in a way you had never seen before. “Damnit Y/N. You have no idea what I’ve done or who I am.” He is yelling at you now, waving a half washed dish to emphasize his point, causing you to take a step backwards. “You think I should be the father of that child,” he gestures wildly at your belly, “when you don’t even know who I am, what I am.” He drops the plate and the sponge, letting them clatter loudly against the metal basin of the sink, as he walks towards the front door of the apartment, his hands still dripping wet.

“Where are you going?” Your words are barely audible as you try to force them past the growing lump in your throat.

He ignores your question as he grabs his jacket from the coat rack by the door and leaves the apartment. The loud thud of the door closings clangs against your ears, the tears you had been trying to hold back freely falling now. You were beyond angry at him, despite knowing you shouldn’t be because he had gone through hell the past few months. You couldn’t bring yourself to wait for him to come back. You were tired of the constant bickering and the numerous different times he had chosen to ignore any mention of your pregnancy or the baby.

You quickly fill your duffle bag with the things you’d need for a few days as you called Penelope. The phone rings three times before she answers with a bright, cheery “hello, Garcia.”

“Penelope, hey. It’s Y/N. Can I stay at your place for a few nights?” You ask as you zip your bag closed. “I need some space from Spencer.”

“Of course girl. You’re welcome anytime.” She says warmly. “I’ll get the couch made up and Y/C/M queued up on the TV.”

“Thanks Penelope. I’ll see you soon.” You end the call and upon reaching the kitchen, you find a piece of paper and a pen.

Spencer,

I am going to stay with Penelope for a few days. I just need some space.

I’ll be back in a few days.

I love you.

Y/N

You magnet the note to the fridge, where Spencer will be able to find it. You then grab your bag and make your way out of the apartment and down to your car. The drive to Penelope’s doesn’t take long, and when you knock on her door, she is there, holding a pint of your favorite ice cream and the TV remote. “Come here girl.” She proclaimed, pulling you into a side hug.

The two of you watched feel-good movies well into the night. It is really hard for you to get comfortable, despite being on Penelope’s comfortable sofa, but you chalk it up to being 38 weeks pregnant and partaking in a ‘girls’ sleepover’. When you finally become too tired to keep your eyes open, you rifle through your bag, finding your toothbrush and toothpaste. “I’m going to brush my teeth Penelope.” You say, standing up to go to the bathroom. A wet sensation washing all down your legs has your frozen in place. The pinching sensation in your back intensifies, causing you to sit back down. “Penelope..” You call through the pain.

“Huh? Y/N?” Penelope answers groggily, sitting up from her relaxed position on the oversized chair. If the situation weren’t so serious, you’d be laughing at the way her hair was standing up in random directions.

“Penelope, I think I need to go to the hospital.” You say, letting out a breath as the pain subsided. She is at your side within moments. “What’s wrong? Is it-oh.” Penelope stops as she sees the evidence of your leaking amniotic fluid on pants. “Let’s go Y/N. We’ve got a baby Reid on the way.” She says cheerily, helping you up. She grabs your bag, which was sitting by the door and helps you out to your car, opening the passenger door for you. The drive to the hospital goes much slower than you would like as a combination of traffic and increasing contractions makes the thirty minute drive feel twice as long.

Upon reaching the emergency room, you are wheeled into a private birthing room with Penelope following closely behind. She stays with you throughout the next six hours of labor, leaving only once near the end. The closer the birth of your child gets, the foggier you feel. At one point, someone else enters the room, hovering near the head of your bed, but you can’t focus enough to see who it is.

After six hours and twenty-eight minutes of labor, you give birth to a beautiful baby girl. Shortly after birth, she is placed on your chest, a bright pink and green striped blanket placed over her backside. You laugh through the tears as you look into her eyes for the first time, an overwhelming feeling of love overtaking you. The hustle and clatter of the doctors around you slowly fade away as you get lost looking at the face of your newborn daughter.

“Y/N, she’s…” Spencer’s voice startles you as he trails off, causing you to take in his lanky form, framed by the hospital room door. “I...I don’t know what to say.”

“This baby, she’s a piece of you and me and if all I’ll ever get is a piece of you, then I’ll be happy. I love you and I want this life with you, but I can’t force you to love us either Spencer.” You pause, wiping away the tears falling down your face in frustration. “No matter what you think Spencer, I won’t ever stop loving you, just as this little girl won’t ever go a day without knowing who her father truly is. A kind, compassionate man who gave himself wholly and completely for the people he loved, regardless of what that meant for him. That’s who her father is.” You are looking at the baby in your arms now, her bright wide-eyed look bringing a small smile to your face.

You aren’t paying enough attention to Spencer to realize that he had come closer, almost to your bed, and was now staring at the girl in your arms in amazement. “She’s so small.” His words are thick with emotion and cause you to lift your head to look at him. His hazel eyes are glistening with unshed tears as he stares at his daughter.

“Do you want to hold her?” You question, slowly moving her towards his hands, which were hanging awkwardly out in front of him, as if he had anticipated your question. He hesitates a moment before nodding so you place her in his arms.

He cradles her against his chest, holding her as if she was made of glass. His eyes never stray from her face as they study her features, almost as if he was memorizing what she looked like in case he never got to see her again. You lean back against the stiffly starched hospital pillows as you watch them, exhaustion pulling at you.

“You would never have to force me to love her, or you.” His words snap you from the light doze you had fallen into. He is no longer standing as he watches the baby in his arms, now he is sitting in the chair next to your bed, the baby sleeping soundly in his arms. His eyes bore into yours as if he is trying to tell you with his eyes what he was struggling to with his words.

“I have never stopped loving you.” He looks down at the baby girl in his arms, running a gentle finger over her small cheek. “I just don’t understand what I did to deserve this, to deserve you and her.”

His words break your heart and you place a hand on his knee. “Spencer, of all the people in the world, you deserve this. You deserve love and a family. You do. And I’ll be here, no, we’ll be here everyday to remind you, of who you are and what you do deserve.” You whisper, squeezing his knee as you look at him through teary eyes.

He leans forward to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Thank you.” Those two words, uttered softly near your ear, hold more meaning than the typical words of gratitude and they meant the world to you. They meant he would stay, even if it wasn’t always easy, even if it wasn’t always what he felt he deserved, he would stay.

Tagging: @twilightlover2007 @brandydel @thisiscalm-andits-doctor (I added a few more of you who liked the post I made about this fic. I hope that’s okay!) @aaronhotchnerr @emofairyprincessofarkansas @sunflowersandotherthings @impala1967dwinchester

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flying-guinea-pig · 3 years

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Not What He Seems (ch.1)

(Prefer to read this on AO3?)

(It’s happening folks. The big reveal, four years in the making.)

NotWhat He Seems: Chapter 1

Thomas' heart always beat a little faster when he summoned something, even after several years in this job. It was the thrill of calling a powerful being into this reality with only your wits and some chalk lines as protection.

Beëlzebob was an intermediate-level demon. He took the appearance of every cliché devil ever - hairy black goat legs, a ridiculously buff and gleaming red upper body, large curled horns. The works.

He was also not cooperating at all.

"You are... di̵s̢tra͢c̢te͜d," the demon whispered, his voice echoing back strangely from the corners of the summoning lab. The shadows seemed to thicken.

Thomas kept his face impassive. These were just some special effects, after all. His binding circle was perfect, he didn't need to worry.

"I have outlined our offer in this document. These are the terms you have previously discussed at length with my colleague," he said, reaching out slightly to hand Beëlzebob the carefully rolled up contract. "All should be in order."

The demon unrolled it and took his sweet time reading it through. He would make a good addition to the safe summons list, despite being a bit higher level than their usual choices. This old-fashioned approach, with the written contract and all - it would teach the students to be patient and give them time to focus on the details before shaking on anything.

"Yes," the demon said, dragging a black claw over the parchment. "These terms are acceptable. However, there is one issue."

"Is there?"

A horrible, fanged grin. "The contract must be written in your o̦̰͚w̮̮n̬͇̹̕ blood, mortal."

Maybe it was his experience with grandstanding demons, or Tyrone had been rubbing off on him, but Thomas was not impressed. "That wasn't in the agreement."

"You will rewrite it. Ḩè̲̙͙̩̤r̦e̹̦ ͏͕̥a̝̱̺͟n̘͔d ̛̦̱̲̖n̩͈̪o̰̻͓͓͢w̺͍͎̦.̪̣͇̩́"

"No, I don't think so," Thomas said, mildly. Seriously? All that work was just wasted? Typical. He was not going to use his own blood to write it, sheesh. With all those clauses and addendums the thing was way too long. Not to mention willingly given human blood had power - power that wasn't a part of this offer.

The shadows twisted - the candles flared. "You will, little mortal, or I will step over this boundary and write it myself, straight from your veins."

"This attitude is not convincing me you're a good fit for our list."

"You have summoned me and I will not leave without my deal!" Red-tinged smoke filled the circle, edging over the chalk lines and spreading into the room. It stank of sulphur and decay.

Thomas coughed. Dramatics aside, maybe it was time to get rid of Beëlzebob. Too bad, Hicks would be disappointed to cross off another name on the safe summons list… It had shrunk a lot in the past years. If this kept up their students would soon only get to summon the Organ Duck. If they couldn’t offer a proper practical education they might eventually run out of interested students as well, which was bad news for the survival of the demonology department.

"Whoa, did someone drop a rotten egg in here?"

Tyrone usually didn't barge in during summonings, especially when they were trying to get more demons for the safe summons list, but this time Thomas didn't mind. The open door let in some fresh air and that was very welcome at the moment.

Tyrone entered the room, waving away some of the smoke. "Hey, Hicks mentioned you wanted to have a talk?"

"What? Oh, yeah," Thomas said, distracted. The smoke was dissipating with record speed and Beëlzebob was visible again, staring at Tyrone in abject terror. "I'm a bit busy right now though."

"Do you need any help?" Tyrone offered. His smile was perfectly friendly.

Thomas glanced at Beëlzebob. "As a matter of fact, he was just leaving."

"Yes! Yes indeed," the demon hurried to say. "Just leaving. Right now. I’m going. Big misunderstanding, you know how it is, have to be somewhere else, goodbye now!"

“Thanks buddy," Tyrone said. "Very accommodating of you, leaving without a deal like that. I will remember this. Here, have a snack."

With a snap of his fingers a familiar deep-fried ball appeared, partly wrapped in a festive paper towel.

Beëlzebob caught it with a flinch and popped away without another sound.

“So, what exactly did you want to talk about?”

“Just a second, let me clean up first.” He frowned at Tyrone. “Speaking of cleaning up, what happened to your shirt?”

“What?” Tyrone glanced down at the brown stains on his usually so crisp white shirt, and made a face. “Aw man, seriously?”

“Do I want to know?”

“I bumped into Banerjee on my way here. He was carrying samples. And he didn’t even apologize, can you believe it?”

Banerjee was the Cryptozoology department’s newest hire, working on his doctorate involving – honestly, Thomas had no idea, he just knew it involved a lot of mud. He wasn’t aware of Tyrone’s true identity. The university staff tried to keep that one under wraps. Parents might object to their children coming to a university where Alcor the Dreambender was frequently hanging around.

“He owes me a new shirt.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “You can literally make it brand new with a thought.”

“He doesn’t know that. It’s about the principle of the thing.”

Shaking his head, Thomas set to work. To his students it often came as a surprise that practical demonology involved a lot of cleaning up. The preparations were extensive, of course, but afterwards someone had to put away the candles and mop up the chalk, blood, and other assorted fluids the demons occasionally left behind. Beëlzebob in particular had left footprints of some kind of sulphurous ooze that he probably shouldn’t handle without gloves…

Safely removing summoning circles was an art, really. It’s not like you could just start scrubbing away with these things – the outer part was usually the binding circle, and you never knew if the demon was still hanging around, invisible, waiting for you to make a mistake. Not that he expected something to happen while Alcor the Dreambender was literally waiting at the door, but proper caution was a good habit to have.

“You know, I could clean this up for you with a snap of my fingers,” Tyrone mused, lounging against the wall while he waited. His shirt held no trace of the brown stains.

“Are you offering?”

“For free?”

Thomas snickered at the almost scandalous look on Tyrone’s face. Put down his cleaning supplies. He had planned to do this differently, but you know what? Now might be as good a time as ever. And it would be fun, wouldn’t it, to put Tyrone off-balance for a moment? “How about a deal then?”

Tyrone perked up.

“You get this room back to its cleaned-up, usable state,” said Thomas, and felt the smile break through on his face. “In return, you get to be my best man.”

To his credit, it didn’t take Tyrone long to realise. “Thomas! You finally popped the question then?”

“Yep. I said I was going to do it soon, this can’t be a surprise –“

“And she said yes?”

“We did talk about it beforehand, you know –“

“Congrats!”

“Thanks,” Thomas grinned. “So, what do you say? Fair warning though, being my best man comes with certain responsibilities. Making sure I’m on time at the wedding and such.”

Organising the stag night as well, technically. Though Thomas suspected Brad already had some thoughts in that direction.

“I’ve been someone’s best man before, I know how it goes,” Tyrone said. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Thomas.”

The room around them shifted, the magical arrays fading away and taking the trailing odour of brimstone with them.

Tyrone’s expression shifted too, as he let go of Thomas’ hand.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.

“Nothing.”

“You seem upset?”

“I am happy for you,” Tyrone said. “It’s just… you’re getting old.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“No, I mean – look at you! Getting married. Maybe kids and a house, soon.”

“I’m not buying a house on a teacher’s salary,” Thomas said. “The rest… who knows? We’ll see how it goes. Is that what’s upsetting you? That I’m growing up?”

Tyrone shrugged awkwardly. He seemed smaller somehow. “You’re going to be very busy with all that – that life stuff. It’s happening already. Everyone is so busy. Your dates with Elisha, Eddy’s got his new job, Brad’s mucking around in his dad’s company - when was the last time we all hung out, just for fun? Not because it was someone’s birthday or anything? It’s been ages since we had a game night.”

That… had been a while, true. “I guess that’s what happens when you get older. There are more demands on your time, you get to juggle more responsibilities.”

“I’m not getting older.”

“Right.” Thomas took a deep breath. “Listen, so… we’re busy more often. And it’s not like in college, where we all could just hang out all the time. But you’re basically part of the family, Tyrone. Alcor. You’ll always have a place here. And I’m sure the rest of the gang would say the same.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Thomas said. And smiled, to lighten the mood. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“You’d just miss all the amazing deals I make with you.”

“Of course” Thomas said, glad Tyrone was now teasing instead of moping. “I’m clearly only using you for your clout as Alcor. You’ve made my life so much easier.”

Tyrone mimed a gasp. “Sarcasm, Thomas? Ouch.”

“Not entirely sarcasm,” Thomas admitted. “You do make my life easier, sometimes. When you feel like it. For instance, vanishing that sulphurous stuff Beëlzebob left behind, I was not looking forward to handling that. The smell lingered.”

Tyrone suddenly looked way too innocent. “Oh, I didn’t exactly vanish it.”

Oh Stars. “What did you do?”

“Might have put it somewhere. Like, oh, I dunno… Banerjee’s car.”

Thomas facepalmed. Serves him right for making a vague deal like that. “Is it at least safe?”

“Define ‘safe’.”

“Tyrone!”

“Don’t worry, Thomas, I promised not to deliberately harm the university’s students and faculty, remember? He’ll be fine.”

“All this for an accidental stain on your shirt, really?”

Tyrone folded his arms in front of him. “He didn’t apologize.”

Thomas shook his head, exasperated.

Demons. They really knew how to hold grudges.

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

The Mindscape was a vast, endless realm where the strong hunted the weak and territories were defined, invaded, and redefined. This was the place where demons lived, and they didn’t like each other any better than they liked humans. The collective noun for a group of demons, as they say, is ‘a carnage’. Teaming up was rare, and more often than not ended in the stronger one destroying the other as soon as their goal was met. That was just the natural order of things.

Even so, sometimes even they needed a neutral place to go. Somewhere deals could be made without worrying about being devoured. This place was the Midway Bar, run by a demon known only as the Bartender, and for the past six years it had attracted a group of regulars.

They took over the table in the corner. Sometimes the group lost a member, occasionally it gained one. They weren’t here to make deals. They were here to drown their misery and sneak away before a stronger demon took advantage of their intoxication to ambush them outside these walls.

Beëlzebob entered the Midway Bar. He went straight to the Bartender, who after a short conversation pointed in the direction of the gloomy table in the corner.

“Get lost,” Flaga the Eagle-winged said, at his approach.

The demon next to her, who mostly looked like a giant fungus with teeth, curled a green tendril around their glass. “Yeah. This is a private party.”

Beëlzebob paused. He was stronger than each of them, he knew. But this was no place for threats. “Apologies for the interruption. May I sit?”

That wasn’t how demons talked to each other, especially not to a bunch of low-levels like them. They shared a suspicious glance. The one across from Flaga, some kind of feathered crocodile hybrid, raised his empty glass meaningfully.

Of course. “Listening can parch the throat so,” Beëlzebob said. “Let me get those refilled for you, and then we̙̮'̥͉̘ll̟�� ț̳̮a̪̩̗̥l̯̹̹k̰.”

#transcendence au #alcor the dreambender #thomas strange #fic: not what he seems #the midway bar #demons #I mean it's TAU so that's a given

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alwaysmychoices · 4 years

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So, I wrote a HC that was pretty angsty and messy about what would have happened if Ethan and MC started dating after Miami. I still think that would have happened, but I started wondering, “what would I have written if I was writing a cute HC about that?” Next thing I knew, it was 2 am and I was writing this on my phone from my bed.

So, here are all the cuter details about what I think would have happened if they started dating in Book 1.

Ethan & MC Dating after Miami - Cute Moments HC 💖

When Ethan and MC started a relationship in Miami, neither of them had any idea how hard those first six months would be. Between the fights and miscommunications, they were just trying to get to know each other while their personal lives went to hell.

There were breakups, makeups, passive aggressions, avoidance, and even a few rounds of silent treatments.

But there was a reason they always came back. Because, late at night, when they mulled over their loss, it wasn’t the bad things that they thought of - it was the good, the pure, and the four letter word on the tip of their tongue that brought them back to each other’s doorstep time and time again.

Because, when they were good, they were amazing.

Ethan loved to send MC flowers.

Before MC, he had never been the kind of man who sent flowers. They were messy, impermanent, and hard to enjoy when you spent all your time at work.

But one time, MC said she mentioned that she liked buying flowers because they allowed her to enjoy a piece of nature, even when she spent her whole day inside the hospital.

The first time he sent them, Ethan had made a real ass out of himself. He said something stupid at dinner, which lead to a fight. He had already worked it out with MC, and though she assured him it was alright, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to do something to prove that he wasn’t such a jerk. On impulse, he ordered 2 dozen roses to be sent to her apartment.

When she got home to her roommates crowding around the prettiest rose bouquet she had ever seen, it didn’t even cross her mind that it could be for her - not until Elijah supplied the card addressed to her from a secret admirer.

Once she was alone, MC called Ethan to make sure it was really him. She couldn’t imagine him willingly ordering such a romantic gift, but she also couldn’t picture someone else giving it to her.

When she asked him if he bought the flowers, he tensed, afraid he’d accidentally risked their secrecy by sending it to her home, but he anxiously admitted that he did and asked if she liked them.

And when she said she loved them... he felt a feeling so unfamiliar he couldn’t classify it. He was so proud to be the one who sent them and so happy that he found a way to make her smile when he so often felt like he was always messing up with her. Right then, he knew this wouldn’t be the last time he sent her flowers.

And it wasn’t. He regularly sent her bouquets and only let up a little when her roommates became suspicious. Once, when MC was alone in his apartment dog sitting Jenner, he had a massive flower arrangement delivered to her with just the message “I miss you.”

To accommodate their busy schedules, date night usually meant going back to Ethan’s apartment with takeout, but after one too many nights of Thai delivery, Ethan decided to teach MC how to cook.

He was startled to realize she had absolutely no idea how to cook. How had she gotten this far into adulthood without this basic skill? Every week, he had a new recipe for them to try, and he would walk her through all the steps.

When Ethan concentrated on cooking, he got these little lines between his eyebrows. MC thought they were cute. Sometimes, she would smooth them out with her thumb to remind him to relax. Other times, she would kiss them. When she did that, he always became distracted. Once, he almost cut his hand because he was so wrapped up in her.

Ethan pretended to find this annoying, but whenever she did it, he showed a small smile that gave him away.

Their fights were usually brutal. They were both so smart and so stubborn that the fights became unwinnable.

And probably because of that, their debates were practically a force of nature.

More than once, they spent a whole Saturday afternoon half naked in Ethan’s apartment and debating the finer points of medical ethics or treatments for patients. They usually could reach an agreement, except when they debated pineapple on pizza.

They pushed each other.

They made each other better doctors for having worked together and better people for having known each other.

Perhaps more importantly, they cared about each other. Even when they were locked in a disagreement or feigning disinterest, they cared. If the other needed them, they were there.

They needed each other more than they would admit. Very quickly, MC became Ethan's rock as they treated Naveen. She was the only one who could understand what he was going through.

MC was nervous to tell Ethan about being sabotaged at work. She didn't want him to think of her as the kind of person who blamed someone else for her mistakes, but when Landry was exposed as a traitor, she was devastated and just wanted Ethan to comfort her.

When he found out all that Landry did, Ethan was furious. Beyond hurting his girlfriend, he had endangered dozens of patients and the stability of the whole hospital.

But he was also hurt that MC hadn't told him.

Ethan realized that he wanted to be the person she shared her problems with. He wanted to be her person, just like she was his.

MC was surprised that, when it came to someone insulting or hurting her, Ethan was always on her side - even when she was equally as guilty. Once, MC complained that an attending made a sexist, offhand comment during rounds. Ethan never liked that attending again. When someone hit on MC and made her uncomfortable when they were at a bar together, Ethan told him off and forced him to leave.

Ethan was equally surprised by how jealous MC could get. He rarely noticed when women flirted with him, so it took him a few months to detect MC's jealousy. The first time he saw it, they were having a drink at a bar. A woman was very shamelessly coming onto him, though she didn't get much of Ethan's attention, but MC looked furious. Every time the woman came over to talk to them, MC moved just a little bit closer until she was almost in his lap.

When he took MC home, he commented on it, assuring her that he was only there for her, but MC grumbled that it happened all the time and that he didn't notice.

So, he started paying attention, and wow, it happened way more often than he thought. Even patients flirted with him, earning a glare from MC.

Once, when Ethan and MC were in the middle of a really big fight, Ethan caught MC staring at him at Donahue’s. To get a rise out of her, Ethan started flirting with the woman sitting a few seats down at the bar. MC was outraged. Thirty minutes later, when he got up to leave, MC followed him out, and they yelled at each other in the ally. And then they made out in the ally and had sex in the back of his car.

The next morning, they acted like nothing happened at work.

In fact, that was usually how they acted at work.

But at the beginning of their relationship, there were plenty of cute moments to be had at Edenbrook.

Like when their hands would accidentally brush when looking over a chart. Or when Ethan's breath hit her neck when he looked over her shoulder to see if she was doing something right. Or secret meetings in his office under the guise of needing to talk about a patient.

But MC thought the sweetest moments where the ones when he would see her coming down the hall, and just for a second, his face soften and warm to her. Almost immediately after, his face would harden again as he got back to work. But in that short little moment, MC knew she made him happy.

Keeping the secret was so hard, especially when MC was always under the watchful eyes of her roommates and friends.

They were all convinced she was in love with someone and joked that she had a secret boyfriend. MC laughed along, but they never actually thought it was Dr. Ramsey.

To make it a little less obvious, she always joined in when they complained about him.

Ethan noticed and rolled his eyes, but he didn’t stop her.

The only person who noticed in Ethan’s life was Naveen, but Ethan skillfully dodged the question whenever he could.

However, they had almost been caught so many times, in and out of the hospital. Even at the farmer’s market, they weren’t safe from a coworker finding them and innocently approaching.

MC always looked around before she kissed him, and Ethan had to be at least 5 miles from the hospital to show any display of affection, not that he particularly liked public displays of affection in the first place.

MC knew that she loved Ethan before she even really knew him, which was terrifying. She worried that, one day, she would learn some horrible fact or realize some unforgiveable trait. Ethan, on the other hand, never imagined that MC would become ruined in his eyes. He didn't think she could. No, he worried that he would be the one to make the mistake.

Both them harbored a lot of insecurities in their relationship - insecurities that held them back.

When they shed them, even just for the night, it was incredible.

Some of the best nights were spent wine-drunk, oversharing hundreds of little details that shaped who they were. MC liked hearing about Ethan's childhood, and she frequently needled him about his mysterious past relationship with Harper. Ethan wanted to know everything about her adult life before him, even when it included ex-boyfriends he instinctively hated.

When their relationship settled into comfortable, stable commitment, they still had nights like that.

Even when they moved in together, they sometimes picked out a bottle of wine, finished the whole thing, and spent the second bottle of wine sharing stories and experiences.

That was when it felt real. That was what reminded them that this was magic - that this was love.

@stateofgracious I think this was kinda cute, so maybe I can do some cute ones 🤞

#Ethan Ramsey #Ethan Ramsey x mc #Open Heart #Open heart 2 #choices #choices stories you play #pixelberry

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henryobsessed · 3 years

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The Widow and The Widow - Epilogue

Jaskier sat to their right playing beautiful tunes on his lute. Jaskier finished his song his face wrinkled which reflected in the warble of his voice as he spoke to Julia "Ahh the good old days, adventures and romance, monsters and money" Geralt growled low as Julia laughed "You didn't go on any of those adventures Jask you were too busy playing with the children"

Word Count: 1950

Warning: Grief

A/N Awwww I didn't want to do this ending but I knew it was needed.

First I want to say Thank you for finishing this book with me, For my first story I know there may have been a lot of mistakes but I wanted to get the story line out.

If your willing and would like to help I am going to edit now so can you comment of the Chapter that you think need the most immediate correction? Which one did you think was weakest?

Which chapter was your favorite?

Epilogue

The Sun was dipping over the garden, the sky was streaked with pinks, reds and deep hues of purple. It had been a full day of laughter and joy, as the estate's families had all returned to celebrate Julia's 98th Birthday. That morning Geralt had bathed his beloved in kisses and cuddles before helping her bathe. She had dressed in her favourite dress the Royal teal satin dress that she had cherished for many years, it was slightly too big for her now thinning frame but it still lit up her face whenever she wore it.

Geralt had settled her in her garden on a special day bed that Tobias had made for her so that she could enjoy the sunshine and watch the children play. Today there were many children running around the garden playing hid and seek and running underfoot of the Adults who were eagerly catching up after some time apart. Jaskier sat to their right playing beautiful tunes on his lute. Jaskier finished his song his face wrinkled which reflected in the warble of his voice as he spoke to Julia "Ahh the good old days, adventures and romance, monsters and money" Geralt growled low as Julia laughed "You didn't go on any of those adventures Jask you were too busy playing with the children"

Laughter rang out from her lips as Jaskier pouted and then smiled a devious smile as he began to strum "Toss a Coin...." Even before he could finish the sentence Geralt gave him a look that silenced the old man. "No fair Geralt, I need to revel in my youth. You still look that same as you did when we first met and Julia and I, well we've seen better days." Putting a soft wrinkled hand on Jaskier arm Julia smiled and said "It's ok Jask, why don't you play me Caleb's favourite lullaby. I always loved that song" a gentle sweet smile formed on Jaskier's face as he began to play a gentle lullaby that almost succeeded in taking Julia away into slumber.

As the morning's festivities moved into lunch and then Mid-afternoon a large cake was bought out for Julia. Large enough to accommodate the myriad of candles adorning the top, she asked the children to gather around and help her blow them out. Geralt loved how much she enjoyed her great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren. He knew however that today she would not have had the breath to blow out one candle let alone 98. He sat behind her as she lay comfortably against his chest, their familiar position as the procession of Gifts were paraded before her. First came Tobias and Renee who both looked remarkably young for being in their late 60's easily mistaken for being in there 40's. Followed by Wilfred and his family and their children and Amelia and her family and their children.

As they moved forward Vesemir, Eskel, Lambert and Cohen bowed low before her Julia the only one looking even remotely as old as Julia was now was Vesemir his frame slightly bent and eyes watery but he looked in his mid 80's rather than the possible 600yrs that he was. The brothers blew her a kiss each and they moved along to allow Visenna and Yennefer a chance to present there good wishes presenting the only Gift Julia would agree to accept today a small bottle of her favourite Honeysuckle oil.

As each servant presented before her Julia remembered her cherished ones those who had passed on ahead of her Nessie her beloved cook who had become a cherished friend. Ruth and Hannah who had died in an outbreak of the pox 20 years earlier along with Jolnar and Petra. She had done all she could for them and it still it haunted her knowing she could not save them.

As the last couple walked near, she recognised both the beautiful lady standing before her and her handsome son standing taller than his father broad shoulders carrying their youngest child. No longer a teenage girl but a regale Queen, Cirilla had rightfully taken her place as the Queen of Cintra along with her husband Caleb beside her. She and her children now ruled the lands of Cintra and had enjoyed peace for many years. Ciri and Caleb kneeled before Julia and took her wrinkled hands in theirs. There eye's meeting, Ciri's full of unshed tears as she kissed Julia on her hand whispering "Happy Birthday Mother, I love you" handing their youngest to Jasker who was happy to cuddle with his nephew Caleb leaned forward and embraced his mother. His deep baritone voice whispered "You're looking well today mum, has dad been looking after you?" the cheeky glint in his eye speaking to how well he knows his parents the even after all these years their passion for each other had never wavered.

Now Geralt had Julia wrapped up in his arms in their favourite place, a blanket sitting over their bodies snuggling on the day bed in the healing rooms looking out over the place where so much love and warmth was met today. As the stars began appearing Geralt whispered to Julia "did you enjoy today my love?" he could hear her gentle soft breathing as she nestled further into his arms "Yes, it was so good to see everyone. This place seems so quiet when they are off living their lives" Geralt hummed in agreement as he ran his fingers through her hair now just as white as his own. They stayed that way for quite some time just enjoying the stars and each other's warmth until Geralt felt something change. It was an imperceptible shift in the way Julia was breathing he looked down at her, as their eyes met. Her pale now milky blue eyes smiled as she said "Take care of them my love" and with that she breathed one last breath and was gone.

He had known it was coming, they had prepared for this moment since Julia had started to feel her strength decline, but it didn't make the feeling of loss any less. Rather than moving Geralt relaxed into the day bed content to hold his beloved in his arms for just one more night.

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

Visenna placed a hand on Geralt's shoulder, she had found him sitting on the day bed looking out at the stars. Thankfully the family had been still in town allowing for a funeral to take place before they all went their separate ways.

At the contact of her hand on his shoulder she sat as he turned, and her son curled into her sobbing. No matter how much they had planned for this, talked about this she knew he would feel the grief and loss for many years to come. She was just glad she could be here to comfort him, to walk it thought with him. She knew he would be ok, that the love of their large family would help him remember the good times. To remember the love that Julia had shown to so many, and to celebrate the life that they had together. Still right now it was raw, and he needed to be allowed to grief so she did what she could she held her son and let him cry.

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

It had been a few months since Julia had passed and Geralt was only just beginning to start to feel more that just the loss. He had woken in his empty bed his arms aching to hold her again. Just wanting to feel close to her he went out to the stables and saddled Roach. The chestnut mare had been a present to him from Julia after Rose had passed away. They had clicked straight away, and roach had been a faithful companion. Today he knew where he needed to go, to their special place. Getting into the saddle he urged Roach into a gallop as they flew over the hills, past the Witcher keep that now rose up to the east of the main dwelling, past the orchards and finally to the river. He had pushed Roach fast needing to feel the wind and adrenaline through his veins.

Here, he found their favourite place, the watering hole had not changed too much since that day he had proposed to her. The trees were still strong and created the sound of waves as the wind rustled the leaves. The birds had come and gone, and now new generations occupied their branches. Even the ant's nests continued their cycle completely unperturbed by the destruction of their colony all those years ago when he had landed his beloved directly on top of their home.

Sitting down on the same bank he shut his eyes, picturing her face he spoke "We miss you Julia, I miss you. Your smile and your hugs. I miss your constant prattle about the grandchildren, and your worry about their safety. I wish you could have lived as long as I did, and that I wouldn't have to live without you" He opened his eyes looking at the water, he realised the biggest thing he missed was the peace that she exuded. Even in her worry she was peaceful.

As he sat a voice seemed to carry on the wind from long ago, her voice as it recited "The lord is my Shepard I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil, my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." As the words swirled around his mind a peace settled in his heart. It wasn't just Julia that he had missed is was the presence of her unnamed God that seemed to follow her wherever she was that he missed.

Speaking to the wind his deep voice carrying around the river he said "I know you, I watched you work through Julia's hand, her compassion, her heart for her family for her patients for me. I saw you work your miracle to bring us the child she so longed to have. If she's with you I want to be there too. I have never believed in higher beings, help me find you. I want to know you like she did" With that a peace greater than he had ever felt before wrapped itself around his heart. In that moment he knew without a shadow of doubt that he would continue to protect and love the family he had on this earth, and that he would one day see Julia again. Filled with a renewed strength and peace he went to Roach mounted and set off for home.

THANK YOU FOR READING THE WIDOW AND THE WITCHER

Previous Chapter Twenty Nine Masterlist

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#thewidowandthewitcher #geralt #geralt x ofc #the witcher #henry cavill

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

My Everything - Part Five

A Take it Slow Sequel

What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.

Warnings: Little bit of angst, fluff, and smut (we got some butt stuff as well)

a/n: not proofread fam, I didn’t have the strength.

Masterpost

Harry was beyond excited to go to the Cape with you today, and just spend the day together as your little family. Buster was being a good boy in the back seat like always. There wasn’t much traffic like the two of you suspected. He looked really cute today, he was wearing a forest green sweater with a pair of loose jeans. His pearls out and proud.

The first location you’d be checking out was an inn with indoor and outdoor accommodations. It wasn’t right on the beach, but you could see it in the background, and that’s all that mattered to you.

“Here it is, love.” Harry says to you as he pulls into the parking area.

“It’s even prettier in person.” He hums in agreement.

You get Buster’s leash on and help him out of the car. You both head inside and tell the woman at the check in desk that you were there for a tour.

“Ah, the soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Styles.” A man says, approaching the both of you. “Welcome to our inn.”

“Thank you.” Harry shakes his hand and so do you.

“And who’s this little guy?”

“This is Buster, our little fur baby.” You giggle. “We’re hoping to have him bring the rings down the aisle.”

“Very cute, we see that more and more these days.” He pats him on the head. “Shall we?”

You both nod and follow him out to the main ballroom.

“So we accommodate both buffet and a served dinner. We know a lot of people opt for buffet these days because it is less expensive, but know we have the room for both. We can also set up the ballroom pretty much anyway you’d like. Nice round tables and what not. Typically we have the dancefloor over there along with the DJ.” He points to one end of the room. “The bar usually goes there.” He points to another direction. “But other than you have complete creative freedom.”

“Couldja see yourself dancin’ out there, babe?”

“Oh for sure. Aw, Harry, our first dance.” You hug his arm quick and continue to follow the man.

Harry completely forgot that a couple hundred people would be watching the two of you dance…he knew how to dance, but he wanted to make it really special for you.

“There’s a door that leads out here to a nice patio.” He opens the door for the both of you. “Folks can take drinks out here, but there is a gate that doesn’t allow them past a certain point. We can set up tables and chairs out here as well. It’s a beautiful view of the water, don’t you think?”

“It’s lovely.” You say.

He leads you out back through the ballroom and to where the bathrooms were. Then through another set of double doors to the outdoor space where the ceremony would be.

“That gazeebo is breathtaking.” You say as you walk up to it. You look out back towards the inn. “Looks like there’s plenty of room for chairs, sweetie.”

“Mhm, this is a gem for sure.”

“There’s a path down that way to the beach as well. Many couple do their first looks down there, and family photos since it’s a bit more private.”

“Good to know.” Harry says. “Are we doin’ that? A first look?”

“They’re cute, but I’d really like the first time you see me in the dress to be when I walk down the aisle.”

“I feel the same way actually.”

“Can you show us what a room might look like? Maybe a bridal suite as well?”

“Of course! Right this way, I’ll show the bridal suite first, it’s just down the hall from the ballroom.”

The bridal suite had a ton of chairs and mirrors and a bathroom. It was ideal. He shows you wear the groom and his party typically get ready as well, and then shows you what the honeymoon suite looks like.

“Will you two be having separate rooms the night before?”

“I think that’s the plan.” You say as you walk in. “This is lovely.”

“Jacuzzi tub too.” Harry says, poking his head into the bathroom.

“We have dog accommodations as well. We can make sure there’s biscuits and a bowl for water in whatever rooms you stay in.”

Lastly, you follow the man to his office and take a seat.

“I know it was a lot to see, and I’m sure you’re considering some other places.”

“We are.” Harry says. “Can we see your packages and stuff like that?”

“Of course.” He gets a piece of paper from his desk and explains the different packages and prices. It was honestly really fair and surprisingly enough under $10K.

“I’m just curious, could we see like when your open dates are? That might sway our decision in the end as well.” You say. You knew Harry would have a lot to discuss over lunch before going to the next location.

“Sure, when were you two thinking?”

“Ideally, next fall…” Harry says. That sounded really soon to you, and way too much to handle in a year.

“But we’re flexible.”

The man takes out a calendar and shows you both.

“As you can see, we’re completely booked through next fall already. I think people wised up that that’s a bit cheaper too. However…” He flips to April 2022. “If you’re looking to still save a few bucks we have some open weekends as early as April. It’s not terribly hot, but not too cold either.”

“Could I take a picture of that?” You ask.

“Certainly.” You take your phone out and snap a picture of the calendar.

After a few more questions you thank the man for his time, and head to the small restaurant the inn had to test out the food a bit. They allowed Buster to sit at your feet.

“So…what’d you think overall?” Harry asks.

“I love it, honestly. I wonder how the other place will compare.”

“You didn’t seem too, uh, broken hearted that it wouldn’t be able to be next fall…”

“Harry.” You sigh. “I just don’t think it’s realistic with everything else going on this year. Hell, I’m going dress shopping with Erica next weekend, and the weekend after that I’m supposed to meat El and her other bridesmaids for our dresses. I’d rather have a bit more time so we’re not stressed, you know?”

“I get it…felt sick when I saw 2022 though, I’m not gonna lie.”

“I know.” You laugh. “It feels really weird to wait that long, but I have a feeling it’ll fly by.”

“I’ll be twenty-eight by the time we get married…”

“Mhm, and I’ll be turned twenty-seven.”

“You really wanna wait that long?”

“Well…” You lean a little closer. “I could use that time to get off birth control so we could go on our honeymoon and we could…you know…” Harry sits back in his chair to contemplate all of it.

“I suppose it would give us more time to keep saving for all the things we want…” He takes a sip of his water. “God, what torture, havin’ a fiancé as sexy as you and not bein’ able to come inside yeh. Damn shame.”

“Harry!” You shush him. “Please.” You shake your head. “There’s other places on my body you can do that.”

“We’ll need to be really careful so you don’t get pregnant beforehand like El and Lou.” He laughs.

“Mhm, very careful.”

“Okay, I suppose that’s a good compromise. I wonder what dates the other place will have open. They could have some sooner, you know?”

“We’ll just have to see what they say.”

Needless to say neither you nor Harry liked the second venue nearly as much, and it was way more expensive. The dates were also farther out. Your choice was easy enough to make, so you decide to just drive back to the first place and talk to the man.

“Back so soon?” He says, delighted.

“We love it here.” You say, sitting down in his office. “And we didn’t want to risk not getting a good date. We think April 2022 is perfect.” You give Harry’s hand a squeeze.

“We’d like the package with the buffet…” Harry says. “The silver.”

“Excellent choice.” Harry writes him a check for the deposit. “We’ll be contacting you shortly to do a food tasting. Please take some time to look over our menu options. Did you enjoy lunch?”

“We did! It was delicious.” You say.

“Wonderful. We’ll help you every step of the way best we can. I’ll be your direct contact so please don’t hesitate to reach out with any and all questions.”

“Thank you so much.” Harry says and shakes his hand.

You both squeal once you’re in the car.

“April 18th, 2022…can you believe it? We’ve set a date!” You say.

“I’m so excited, baby.” He kisses you. “Let’s get home, I need to get in there.” He gives your thigh a squeeze and you giggle.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Harry, if I don’t get up now I’ll be late to Erica’s bridal appointment.” You giggle.

Harry wouldn’t get off of you, he had you pinned to the bed.

“But it’s our anniversary.” He mumbles as he kisses your neck. You look up at him and smile. “This day last year I asked you to be my girlfriend.”

“I believe your exact words were, am I your boyfriend?”

“And you said, would you like to be.” He kisses you again. “So, you can’t leave until I’ve had my way with you.”

“Of, is that so?”

“Mhm.”

“Couldn’t you have your way with me when I get back?”

“You’re not gonna be home until like dinner time.” He pouts.

“Baby, please don’t make me feel guiltier than I already do…besides, I need you to go on Vista Print today and see what you want the save the dates to look like, remember?”

“Fine, but we’re havin’ a quickie in the shower.” He looks down at you. “If that’s what you want of course.”

“I do.” You kiss his nose. “Thanks for double checking.”

Harry managed to suck a huge hickey on the back of your shoulder. You were just happy it wasn’t you who would be getting in and out of dresses today.

“Oh! That’s been my favorite so far, honey.” Your mom says as Eric comes out in her fifth dress.

You had stayed relatively quiet. You didn’t really like any of the dresses she picked out, but then again Erica wasn’t you, and she had a different sense of style. You look over at Bridget who was more focused on the flute of champagne the store provided. You roll your eyes and look back at Erica who was looking at you.

“You haven’t said a thing…”

“Sorry, it’s just, I’m not the one who’s going to be wearing the dress, you are. Do you like it? Is it comfortable, can you walk and dance in it?”

“I think I love this one. I haven’t loved the others.”

“Then you should get this one.” Your mom says. “You have to love it, especially at these prices.”

“Good point, this is it, this is the one.” She squeals.

You all go out for lunch after.

“When do you think you’ll wanna go dress shopping Y/N?” Erica asks.

“No idea. I have some time yet. Probably after the holidays.”

“That’s a good idea, that way that holiday weight will be gone.” Your mom laughs.

“I don’t typically gain a lot over the winter…besides I could completely change my mind and go shopping in London when Harry and I go again for Christmas.” You shrug.

“You wouldn’t want us there?” Erica asks, frowning.

“It’s not that-“

“And who would you go with? Anne and Gemma?” Your mom asks.

“Maybe. I’m not saying I would buy anything out there, but if I happen to walk by a bridal shop and see something I like I’ll probably go in.”

“Must be nice to just go to London whenever.” Bridget says under her breath.

“Well, that’s what happens when you have a real job and make a life for yourself and don’t live in your mother’s basement.” You huff.

“Y/N.” Your mom says.

“No, I’m sorry. We dance around this all the time, and no one ever scolds her for the comments she makes. I’m so sorry that your three younger siblings managed to get their shit together and you couldn’t, Bridget, really I am. But I’m not going to sit here and let you shit on the things I get to experience. And I don’t get to go whenever I want, and neither does Harry. He’d go a lot more if he could.”

“If you’re going to have an attitude like this then maybe I just won’t be involved with any of your plans.” Bridget says.

“Good, music to my ears actually.” You sit back and cross your arms.

“That’s enough girls.” Your mom says. “Neither of you really mean that-“

“It’s my wedding, I can do things how I want. Erica wanted us all here to help her find a dress, that’s great. But that might not be how I want to do things.”

“It’s not always about you.” Erica says.

“Really? Then who is my wedding about?”

“It’s about you, of course, but it’s also about the people that love you.”

“Well pardon me for not always feeling totally loved by own my family. You know if Harry had said he wanted to get married overseas I would’ve done it in a heartbeat, and then what you have done Bridget? Mum would’ve paid for all your accommodations, and you wouldn’t even offer to pay her back.” You look away from the three of them, and then to Erica. “I’m sorry, this is your day.”

“The dress shopping part was fun…I’m happy I finally have a dress. And you know what color I’d like the bridesmaid’s dresses to be, so you can shop with your friends how you like.” She smiles.

“So are we just going to pretend you two aren’t fighting right now?” Your mom says to you and Bridget.

“She started it…s’not my fault she’s bitter.”

“I’m not bitter, I like my life just fine, thanks.”

“Mhm.” You roll your eyes. “So, what’s next, what else do you need to get done?” You ask Erica.

“Well, honestly, not much. Venue and food is good to go. The DJ has been booked. All of the stressful stuff is done. Now we get to plan the fun stuff like the bridal shower and the bachelorette. But that stuff won’t be until months from now. Don’t you have another wedding you’re pretty involved in like a month before mine?”

“Yeah, our friends Louis and Eleanor.”

“Oh, they just had a baby over the summer right?” You mom asks.

“Mhm, Eliza May, she’s so stinking cute. Anyways, they’re getting married like exactly a month before you, and I’m in her wedding party. Harry is Louis’ best man.”

“Will Louis be his?” Erica asks.

“Yeah, but he hasn’t asked him yet. We’re going to ask Niall to officiate. We’re going to take him to dinner soon to surprise him.”

“I’m surprised Harry was okay pushing things off until next April since he was so eager to get engaged.” Your mom says.

“He really wanted it to be next fall, but with all of this stuff going on it would’ve been too much. I didn’t wanna take away from Erica. Plus, I still have so many classes to take. We compromised though…”

“On what exactly?” Bridget asks.

“Well…I told him I would get off the pill a little sooner so by the time we get married we could start trying for a baby sooner.”

“Isn’t that exactly how your friend Eleanor got pregnant?” Erica asks.

“Yeah, but they just weren’t being careful. And nothing’s happening just yet. It’ll probably be another year until I get off of it. He wants a baby so badly, so I think my promise of that perked him up.”

“I think it’s sweet he wants to have a kid with you, honey.” Your mom says. “It takes a real man to not be afraid of something like that.”

“Today is technically one of our anniversaries…he asked me to be his girlfriend a year ago today.”

“Why didn’t you say something?! No wonder you’re all pissy, you should be home with him.” Erica says.

“It’s okay, we’re going to hang out tonight.” She puts a hand on the back of your shoulder and you wince.

“Sorry, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just…pulled a muscle at the gym the other day.”

When you get home you’re hit with an intoxicating aroma: tofu curry. Buster greets you and you walk into the kitchen.

“Hey baby!” Harry says just stirring the mixture before letting it simmer.

“It smells so good in here.” You give him a kiss. “I made sure to eat light at lunch because I knew you were going to make something yummy.”

“And I made chocolate covered strawberries for dessert.”

“Aw, remember the first time I made those for you? And you had to show me how to eat them properly.” You giggle.

“How could I forget, that was like the first time we really made out.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “How are your sister and mum? Erica find a dress?”

“Mhm, and it suits her really well. I got into it a little with Bridget at lunch, but other than that it was good, pretty normal.”

“Why’d you get into it with her?”

“Sometimes I just can’t bite my tongue, you know me. She made a comment and I chose not to ignore it. It’s fine, it happens.” You shrug. “Like I said, pretty normal.”

“Well, I’m glad you don’t bite your tongue. She’s thirty-three and you’re way more mature from what I’ve gathered.” He kisses your forehead. “Go sit in the dining room, I got it all set up with candles and everything.”

“You’re too cute.”

You go out and sit down. He set it up really nicely. A few minutes later he comes out with two plates full of the delicious curry, and the naan bread you both like.

“Mm, oh my god, you’ve outdone yourself.” You say after taking a bite.

“Glad you like it, baby.” He smirks and then he starts laughing.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just remembered what we did the night we made things official.” He takes a bite of bread and grins at you.

“Which was what?”

“You let me down on you for the first time.” You nearly choke on your food. The memory came flooding back to you. “You begged me to let you move yourself against me.”

“Harry, please, we’re at the dinner table.”

“So? Not like there’s any kids around.” He looks over his shoulder at Buster. “I know he’s a smart dog, but I don’t think he fully knows what we’re sayin’.” He winks at you and you nudge him.

“Sometimes I think it’s really silly with how timid I was.”

“You had good reason. It just made things more exciting and creative. Like sometimes I’d nibble on you and other times I wouldn’t use my teeth at all. I feel like I really got to learn what your body reacted to the most.”

“I’m happy I could help you conduct your study.” You shake your head and continue eating.

You help clean up and then you both sit on the sofa with the strawberries. You giggle as you feed them to each other. Harry slowly drags one around your lips before letting you bite down on it. He pulls you in for a kiss, sucking on your bottom lip. Your hands tug at his hair and he groans against you.

“Bedroom.” He says against your lips and you nod.

You both race down the hall and into the bedroom. You get all your clothes off and you both get onto the bed. He kisses down your body and spreads your legs apart. His thumb works your clit while his tongue licks into you.

“Fuck, oh my god.” Your head rolls back. “Been thinking about this all day, you have no idea.” He moans against you as you tug on his hair. He loved when you talked like this. “You really know what do with it, Harry, shit.” He rubs you really fast, making you come all over his tongue. He licks his lips as he sits up. “Your turn.” You grin.

He lays down and you get between his legs. You don’t waste any time getting your mouth on his tip. You suck on it while your hand works the rest of him. You cradle his balls while you take more of him in your mouth. You groan when you taste more of his precome. It wasn’t so much that you liked the taste, it was more that you loved making him feel so good.

“Y/N.” He moans. “Want you to come sit on my face.” You pop off him.

“But I already had my turn.” You say confused.

“Didn’t realize it was a one and done situation.” He smirks. “Get your ass up here.”

“Let’s do it at the same time.”

You crawl up his body and turn around so you can still suck his cock. You gasp when you feel his tongue on you again. You were a bit more sensitive now. After he makes you come again he has you lay on your back. You think he’s going to get his dick in you, but he starts fingering you instead. He spreads your legs really far apart as he curls his fingers up inside you. He takes his fingers out and sucks his pinky into his mouth before continuing. He looks down at you and sees how wet you are, and how it’s dripped down to your other hole.

“What? You’re making me self-conscious, what are you looking at?” You prop yourself up on your elbows.

“What do you say, can I get this in there while I finger you? You’re awfully lubricated for it.” He holds up his pinky and wiggles it at you.

“Okay…”

“Really?”

“Yes, but only your pinky, and don’t just stick it in.”

“Would you let me rub around it first?”

“Sure.” You put your hand on his shoulder and he looks at you. “Happy anniversary.”

“Couldn’t have asked for a better present to be honest.”

“I get to do it to you after.” You pout. “Pleaseeee.”

“Already a step ahead of yeh, I showered already and everything.”

You smile and lay back down all the way. You feel his fingers lightly graze around your little hole and it doesn’t feel that bad. You had let him rub the tip of his dick against it enough times that this really wasn’t that much different. You feel him insert his middle and index fingers back into your core to further relax you. You gasp when you feel his pinky go inside your ass.

“Okay?” He looks at you.

“Mhm.”

“Could you…unclench so I can move it?” He chuckles.

“Sorry.”

Harry uses his other hand to rub slow circles on your clit and you’re able to relax a little more. You truly weren’t sure what the appeal of doing this to a girl was, but as he continued to do what he was doing, you felt stimulated in a way like never before.

“You’re so fucking wet, you like it, angel?”

“Feels good, yeah. Make me come, Harry.”

“Yeah, you want me to make you come again?”

“Please.”

His fingers pump faster, and you grip the sheets until you cry out. He was really giving you a good time tonight, but then again, it was an anniversary.

“Can I just fuck you for a bit before we get to all the other stuff?” He says.

“I need your dick so bad, please, put it in.”

He smirks and does as you say. You both moan once he’s all the way in. You hold him close to you and wrap your legs around his waist.

“I’m gonna come if you keep your legs like that.”

“Good, I want you to. You’ll get hard again, don’t worry.” You bite down on his shoulder and he loses it.

When he pulls out he sticks his fingers right in to collect the mixture and he hold them up to your mouth for you to suck on how you like. You lap around his fingers and suck them clean.

“Yup, that didn’t take long.” He looks down at himself and you both laugh.

“Go get the towel while I grab everything else sweetie.”

He nods and grabs his towel to lay on the bed. You grab the lube and the strap and place them both on the bed. Once you get him fully prepped and stretched, you get the strap on, and thrust into him.

“Holy shit.” He groans. “Hit it right away, angel.”

“I did? I must be getting better at this.” You smile and lean down to kiss him quick.

You stroke his cock while you rock in and out of him.

“You look so fucking good like this, Harry.”

“So do you.” He grits his teeth and you can tell he’s getting closer.

“Wanna make a mess, Harry? Wanna just come all over me?”

“Fuck, yeah I do.”

His come spurts out in ribbons all over your necks, chest, and stomach. You wait for him to catch his breath before pulling out. He props himself up on his elbows to look at you.

“You’re absolutely filthy.” He tuts his tongue a few times. “Gonna have to take a good, long bath to getcha all clean.”

“I guess so.” You smile.

Harry sits behind you in the tub as you lay your head on his shoulder.

“You’re so special to me, Y/N.” He coos. “My special girl.” He kisses your temple and you look up at him. “Love you more than anything.”

“I love you too, Harry.” You give his thigh a little squeeze. “I feel really lucky.”

You and Harry barely had a fight since you got engaged. It was like you were in this new honeymoon stage where you were always on each other’s side. Not that you were looking for a fight or anything, but the two of you had just been way more agreeable lately. Maybe it was your meds doing their job, or maybe it was the excitement of planning the wedding of your dreams with your soulmate. You loved the feeling of not being able to wait to see him, and you loved even more feeling so wanted the minute you stepped through the door. There wasn’t much more you could ask for.

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst fic #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut fic #angst #smut #fluff #enjoy!#feedback is always appreciated!!

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tloujm · 4 years

Text

Part VIII: Heady

Author’s Notes: This takes place directly after the end of the previous chapter, timeline wise. As mentioned below, this is gonna be smut in the form of makeup sex. I wanted to do something different and make it more realistic? Not all sexual experiences are perfect, even in fiction, no matter how hard we try for it to be. I know fanfic is where we go to live our fantasies, but sometimes when I read fanfic, it feels too unrealistic. Like, the plot is too perfect. I want an off canon AU but at the same time, I still want some type of conflict or drama. That being said, I am going to reiterate that I am not an expert at writing smut. I still tried to give it a happy ending, but I didn’t want all of my smut scenes to seem cookie cutter or copy and paste.

Genre: Smut with a smidge of angst

Summary: You and Joel reunite...sexually ( I know, I’m corny but its a reference to Wendell from a Key and Peele skit)

Ship: Joel x Reader

Joel’s beard brushed up against your chest when his lips left yours to give attention to your neck. It allowed you a moment to catch up. With the oxygen reaching your brain again, you began to register your surroundings. You’d become hyper aware of the fact that Joel was attacking your skin like a ravished being. He missed me that much, huh, you thought. You felt his hands slide from your waist to your hips before he gently pushed you backwards. You followed his lead until your ass was pressed up against a wall. You were exactly where he wanted you. His fingers bore into your clothed skin before he slid them back up to your waist. For a moment, he detached himself from your neck and gazed down at you. With a grunt, Joel lifted you up. Feeling your feet float off the ground caught you off guard, but not for long as your legs instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist. It was as if they had a mind of their own. No one had ever picked you up before. It was thrilling and nerve wracking at the same time. You were afraid of falling, but between being propped up against the wall and Joel’s hands on your ass, that wasn’t an option. As soon as you were secure, he kissed you again and there it went. The clarity was gone and your brain was once again caught in a haze. Joel wanted all of you and he wanted it all with you. After a while of making out, he realized that there was only so much he could do to you while clothed.

It’d been so long since the last time he was with you or anyone else for that matter. He had no desire to take up with someone else. He couldn’t move on from you. He thought about it, though. Whenever he would especially miss you and his own hands weren’t enough, he thought about finding somebody to be with just for the night. At one point, he thought that was the only way to get over you. Those ideas were quickly dismissed, however, for many reasons. Knowing that you were so close yet so far from his reach every single day was excruciating. He saw it as his punishment; he knew he deserved it. Part of him even thought that he didn’t deserve this moment right here with you. His body was convincing him otherwise, however. When you hugged him, it left him reeling. It damn near unraveled him right then and there. He needed you; there was no other way to put it.

Joel whispered that it was time to go upstairs. All you could do was nod in agreement. You loosened your legs and he gently let you down. Almost immediately, though, Joel slung you over his shoulder. Your ass was right next to his face and he gave it a playful slap before moving toward the stairs. You let out a squeal. He couldn’t see it, but a big ol’ grin was plastered on your face. Part of you was concerned about his back and shoulder, but he didn’t give any indication that he was in pain while trying to show out for you. You let yourself enjoy the ride until he threw you onto the bed. You giggled at the thrill of it all. For a moment, you let yourself take in the room of which you were in. It hadn’t changed a bit since the last time you slept in it. You missed it.

You crawled to the edge of the bed and got up on your knees. Joel walked up to you as you lifted your shirt over your head. The way your breasts filled your bra was enticing to him. They were practically spilling out and he wanted nothing more than to release them. You felt his rough hand cup your face as he guided it up to meet his. The other hand snaked its way behind you to unclasp the bra. You felt the release and in one fell swoop, he placed his finger between your breasts and pulled the fabric down your arms. You pulled back to focus on his pants. You noticed the stiffness beneath his jeans and it was just sitting there tempting you. Joel let your fingers fumble around his fly because he was preoccupied with your breasts. They were single handedly his favorite body part on you. He was very appreciative of the rest of you, but it was when he got to be intimate with you did he allow himself to pick a favorite. It was something you were initially self conscious of because of stretch marks but he didn’t even mention them. He watched as they bounced and jiggled as your arms moved around his waist. Joel was brought out of his daze when he felt the air hit his freshly exposed skin. With his fly down, you ran your hands over his ass, bringing his pants down with them. You pushed them all the way down to his knees before looking back up to him. His eyes were already locked on yours. He continued to step out of his jeans before he approached you again. “You can touch me.” You finally said. His eyes flickered from yours down to your dark nipples, then back up to you. He quickly threw his t-shirt off and took one in each hand and began to knead them. His hands were rough and eager. That was the first time you’d seen him completely naked since last year. You reached up and cupped his face with both hands before bringing his lips between yours. “Joel” You breathed between kisses.

Joel was ready to be inside you, but he knew that there was more fun to be had first. He made a low grunt and gestured with his head for you to move back onto the bed. “Go on, now.” With every inch you moved backwards, he moved to meet you as he crawled on the bed. You let your bare back hit the covers. He aggressively pulled your pants down your legs followed by your panties. He hovered over you, arms on either side of your body. Your fingers snaked up his torso. Slowly, he lowered himself down and licked the skin between your breasts before taking one completely in his mouth. You let out a breathy moan when he flicked your nipple with his tongue. He moved from that one and you watched as he wrapped his mouth around the other nipple. The cold air fed into the sensation and left the exposed one erect. He played with it between his fingers. He began to grind against your middle, causing a sensual friction. Instinctively, your back arched into his rhythm. Finally releasing your nipples, he gazed down at you with wet lips and lustful eyes. He attacked your neck again for a few moments before going back for your lips. As he did, he took your wrists in his hands and brought them up over your head, never ceasing to grind over your folds. He wanted to tease you, but all he did was tease himself. Being so close to your entrance was too much to bear. His goal was to make you melt into a puddle, though, and for that, he was determined.

“Joel?” You called his name sweetly.

“Hmm” He hummed.

“Just fuck me already.” You missed him but then you missed him. He let out a chuckle that left you more attracted to him than you were a second ago.

“Patience, darlin’.” He was still on the ‘make love’ level, but you were well past that and you just wanted to fuck. He compromised by sliding his fingers down your folds instead. He rubbed and pinched your clit for a few moments before sliding two fingers inside you.

“Joel, you know that’s not what I meant,” You began. He hooked his fingers and flicked at your core before pumping them in and out. Your middle arched up into his fingers as you let out a long moan. “But this...this will work.” Your thighs naturally squeezed against his hand. “God, this feels good. Don’t stop. Not yet.” He watched the way your face squirmed under his touch and it aroused him further.

“Eyes up here, baby girl.” Joel demanded; his voice somehow deeper.

He felt your walls begin to pulsate around his fingers. He took that as his cue to enter you completely. It took everything he had to only ease in, especially since your insides contracted with each growing inch. You let out a couple of expletives as your walls expanded to accommodate him. Joel was only in you for a moment and was ready to cum. Sweat began to fall down his face as he focused on lasting.

Joel sucked in a breath before letting out a deep moan. “Ughhh…(Y/N).” His voice cracked. “You’re so…” There were so many things he wanted to say. You were everything to him. “Warm and wet and…” Your walls clenched against his member as he slowly pulled back out. “Tight.”

“Please.” You begged.

“Please what?” He flashed a lustful glare at you.

“Please fuck me.” Your face, voice, words. They were all ingredients to unlock his primal side. All you had to do was say the word. Hands gripping your hips, Joel slid out all the way and flipped you over. He got up on his knees and pulled your ass up to follow him. Your face was planted against the bed. Missing your warmth, Joel slid right back into you. He could feel himself bottoming out as he went deeper inside.

“That feel good?” He asked. You nodded profusely.

“Fuck!” You shouted.

At this point, he was pounding into you. “I’ve got you, (Y/N).” He said that but it was him that was more erratic than you. His rhythm was uneven and he could feel himself unraveling. There was no turning back now.

You felt him twitch inside you. The sensation built you up, but it wasn’t enough. You were close to peaking, but you needed him just a little bit longer. You were just about to guide his hand back to your clit when you felt it. He spilled inside you. It was unexpected in more ways than one. Joel prided himself on holding out until you came first. On one hand, you were kind of disappointed at how quick the make up sex was, but on the other, he had never cum in you before. The two of you always practiced safe sex by Joel pulling out and releasing on your stomach or thighs. It wasn’t the best contraceptive, but having sex with a rubber after knowing what it felt like without it was a disappointing thought. He was always so careful. Not one time up until now did he ever stay inside you. You weren’t even thinking about getting knocked up, though. What was on your mind was the new sensation practically made you overflow on it's own. You reached your own hand down to your clit again to help reach your peak. It was a different yet familiar feeling. You didn’t cum the way you were used to, but you still orgasmed; that you knew. It was heady and tingly and you felt it up and down your body. You stayed there in the arched position as he let himself rest on your back for a moment. Joel was still inside you. He had no desire to leave; It was too warm, too comfortable. After he came, he thought it was over, but you continued to contract around his throbbing member as if you were milking out every ounce he had in him. Having not experienced anything like that, he allowed himself to get high off the daze you caused him. Back aching, you released the arch and laid your stomach flat on the bed. Joel watched as he slid out of you, a small flow of cum seeping out in the process. To him, you were a vision and the imagery of it all lengthened his high.

Soon, his body collapsed on top of the covers. The cool fabric felt nice against his sweaty body. He was still riding his high when he reached his hand out to you. Just as he moved, you did too. You rolled off the bed and walked out the room to the bathroom. He let out a sound that was meant to be a gentle, longing whimper but it came out like a grunt. You went to go pee to prevent a UTI. You usually didn’t leave the bed immediately afterwards, but you wanted to try your hand at douching. You figured, the sooner, the better. The morning after pill was hard to come by, so you thought rinsing would do something…anything. You were also on the last day of your period. You rarely bled on the last day, but you knew that you weren’t ovulating. Your time spent in the bathroom was based on wishful thinking.

You walked back into the bedroom after a handful of minutes to find Joel sitting up on the bed. He was hunched over, back facing you. Quietly, you crawled onto the bed and over to him. You slid your arms down his chest before resting your chin on his shoulder. The action made him sit up straight. You brought him into a light embrace from behind.

“What’s wrong?” You asked in a whisper.

“I can do better.” He sounded defeated.

“I loved every minute of tonight.” You began. You turned his chin so he could face you. “I wanted you and I still want you.”

“That’s not how I wanted it to go. I wanted to make you feel good---”

“And you did, believe me.” You flash him a coy smile.

“I came inside you.” He confessed.

“I know.” You kissed his shoulder. “Honestly, it was bound to happen. We both knew it was a risk to not use condoms. Guess we’ll just have to wait and see if...um...you know...something happens.” You paused to think of a way to lighten the mood. “You inside me though? It felt...amazing.” His features softened, but he didn’t smile.

“I want to try again. It’ll be better.” He promised you, determined to last longer next time.

“It doesn’t matter who cums first as long as we both feel good in the end, and you always manage to make me feel better than just good.” You make sure he’s looking at you again. “All I want is to share all of myself with you and I want you to do the same with me. That’s all that matters.” You tried to convince him. He acknowledged your words with a nod, but remained silent. “We can try again whenever you want.” You entangled your fingers into his.

“Alright if we try again tomorrow? I don’t think I can stay awake for another round.” He continued to sound defeated.

“Of course. You had a long day. It was only about 12 hours ago that you almost died.” You playfully responded. He finally chuckled.

You laid back down onto the bed, guiding Joel down with you. He maneuvered so the blanket could cover both of your bodies. Gently, you pulled his head down onto your chest; his ear between your breasts. Your legs spread open to accommodate his body. Your fingers soothingly raked through his hair while your other hand left light scratches on his back. He hummed in appreciation. The amount of ease and trust he felt with you was almost scary, but there was no one else he’d rather give himself to. It didn’t take long for him to fall into a deep sleep.

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pocket-poly · 3 years

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Emotional libertarianism, as defined by More Than Two, is “a belief that every individual is entirely responsible for his or her own emotional responses and that person’s behaviour is never the “cause” of another person’s emotion.” This concept is talked a lot about in polyamory, particularly in conversations around personal autonomy and boundaries. Most frequently, I’ve seen it come up a lot in discussions where couples are opening up a previously monogamous relationship, and one person is struggling with negative feelings around their partner dating and loving other people.

If you do something that leads to someone else feeling hurt, the common expectation is to apologise for what you have done and, where appropriate, to make reparations for your actions that led to that hurt. However, when taken to an extreme, people can twist this by blaming all their negative feelings on someone else’s actions, essentially making them responsible for their emotional state to an unreasonable extent. In a past relationship of mine, my ex had some extreme attachment issues, and would constantly guilt-trip me for spending any time without him due to his fear of abandonment. This emotionally abusive and exhausting relationship deteriorated to the point where I would feel guilty for spending time on my hobbies or even with my own family, because I knew that doing so would directly lead to him throwing a tantrum that I didn’t care about him.

Against this backdrop, emotional libertarianism can feel quite freeing. The concept does have some merits: it champions individual autonomy, motivates people to work through their own trauma independently, and discourages people from becoming overly reliant on their partners for emotional reassurance. However, as with anything, this can be toxic when taken to an extreme and used as a tool for abuse. Some people use emotional libertarianism as a way to dodge responsibility or accountability for their actions, to punish their partners for feeling entirely reasonable and human feelings as a result of toxic abuse, and to manipulate their partners into suppressing their negative emotions so as to keep their partner happy and not appear “controlling”.

With all this in mind, where exactly is the line? How do we honour our personal autonomy, while also being compassionate and caring to our partners?

ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES, HOWEVER UNINTENTIONAL

With autonomy comes responsibility, but not in the ways you may think. While we are autonomous individuals who can do whatever we want, I think we also have to accept that our actions have consequences, and have the potential to directly influence how other people feel, even if the results were not what you intended. We do not live in a vacuum, and sometimes the things we do have unforeseen repercussions. An example would be if you went out on a date with someone else, and came home to find your partner in tears from a jealousy attack while you were away. While we cannot take responsibility for other people’s feelings because we ultimately cannot control how other people choose to feel, we are responsible for our actions and how they may affect others. Being in a relationship with someone suggests that you care about them to some extent, and one would hope that people who love each other would try their very best not to hurt each other, are committed to not exacerbating each other’s pain and suffering when it is expressed, and endeavour to create spaces where their partners feel safe and loved. This means we have to own up to mistakes when we have made them, instead of trying to shift blame onto others. In cases where the hurt was unintentional, acknowledging the impact of your actions and holding space for your partner to process their feelings can go a long way, and practising empathy and compassion for your partner is key.

TALK ABOUT YOUR NEEDS FOR CARE AND SUPPORT EARLY ON

Different people have different needs when it comes to giving and receiving care from their partners. One thing that my anchor partner does very well is that he is able to share his problems with me, without necessarily making them my problem as well. He informs me of his struggles so that I am kept in the loop of what is going on in his life, but beyond that, I am not expected or obligated to talk through his feelings, because most of the time, that is not what he needs or wants from me. I, on the other hand, prefer to talk about my problems with my loved ones and solve them through collaborative discussion; however, I recognise that not everyone has the time or energy for this, so I try to spread it out amongst people who have the capacity to do so and genuine willingness to help, such family, friends, and occasionally helpful strangers in polyamory discussion groups. I ask for what I need from people, but I never feel entitled to it, and I am grateful for the people in my life who do share their time and energy with me when I am struggling.

Some people have the emotional capacity to help others with processing their feelings about a situation and enjoy doing so, while others do not for a wide variety of reasons. Some people may view someone else sharing their problems with them as a nuisance and a burden, while others view it as a privilege and a gift that their partners can be so vulnerable and trusting with them to ask for their help and advice. When dealing with negative emotions, some people prefer to receive emotional reassurance from their partners, while others prefer direct advice and practical solutions. Some prefer to externalise and share their issues with other people, while others prefer to internalise and go away to handle their feelings on their own. There is no right or wrong answer as to how much care should be given or received, and it is merely an issue of compatibility between people. It’s important to talk about what you are able to give to a relationship and what you would like to receive, in order to avoid mismatched expectations and feelings of entitlement.

When setting boundaries and making relationship agreements with our partners, those boundaries and agreements have to be honoured in order for trust to build and flourish. If you cannot stick to certain agreements for whatever reason, then talk about renegotiating them so you can find a solution that works for all parties. If there isn’t a solution that works for all parties, then that will just lead to unhappiness, resentment, or a breakup later down the line. So if you fail to communicate, deliberately disrespect your partner’s boundaries in the name of personal autonomy, and proceed to tell your partner their feelings are not your problem, don’t be surprised if your partner doesn’t stick around, and uses their personal autonomy to end their relationship with you.

CONTEXTUALISE YOUR PARTNER'S FEELINGS AND REACTIONS

Circling back to empathy and compassion, viewing your partner’s reactions to situations within the context of trauma they have experienced may give you some insight into why they are struggling in the way that they are. It is this knowledge that can sometimes help reframe someone’s reactions that may, at first glance, seem completely irrational. For example, someone who has a history with neglectful parents or cheating partners may struggle with jealousy attacks more often than people who do not. People with certain mental illnesses or disorders, like anxiety or BPD, may also respond differently to situations; for example, I myself am autistic, and as a child would get extremely upset by small changes to my routine in ways that neurotypical people would not.

How much leniency you decide to exercise in light of your partner’s trauma or personal issues, and how much you wish to change your behaviour or beliefs to accommodate those things out of consideration, is completely up to you. This is a fine balance to strike, with no one-size-fits-all answer. However, while it is important to be mindful of personal differences between yourself and your loved ones, it is also important not to excuse their behaviour to an unreasonable extent. For example, if your partner proceeds to verbally harass you for making a genuine mistake, or use you as their personal therapist or an emotional crutch, at some point that would be unreasonable, exhausting, and even abusive. Respect your partner’s boundaries, but do not disrespect your own in the process.

ABOVE ALL, BE KIND

Ethics is sticky, and there will almost always be an exception to every rule. At the end of the day, while someone’s feelings may not be your obligation or responsibility to manage, it is kind to help them with processing their feelings if you have the capacity and willingness to do so. It’s also important to not get too caught up in your pride and let it get in the way of you comforting or apologising to someone, or to ignore your partner’s feelings in favour of logically justifying your actions. If I accidentally bump into a stranger on the street and they fall over, I say “sorry”, not because I wanted to hurt them, but because of the impact of my actions and the hurt that resulted from it. It’s easy to think, “I don’t have to apologise, because this situation wasn’t my fault,” but are you really going to tell someone that they shouldn’t have been there in the first place, or that their pain is entirely their problem? Probably not.

I enjoy communicating compassionately with my partners, developing mutual understanding, respect, and consideration, and getting as much out of my relationships as the effort I put into them. Being kind and loving takes humility and vulnerability, but it is exactly those things that lead to supportive and fulfilling relationships.

*This blog post was originally published on my Wordpress blog, Poly Philia.*

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parkhabits · 5 years

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The Wedding Date {M}

Park Jinyoung x Reader Genre: Fluff / Smut Warnings: Explicit mature content Word Count: 11,964 Summary: It’s your best friend’s wedding and in order to avoid all those sympathetic condolences because your ex is showing up with his pregnant girlfriend you hire an actor to be your boyfriend. Jinyoung plays his part to perfection. Everyone including your parents are charmed by him, the only problem is, you can’t tell what’s real and what’s not.

You should be happy. Full of bliss and joy while in celebration of your best friend’s wedding festivities. However, there were three things on your mind.

1.Your ex fiance is the best man

2. Two months from now would have been your wedding

3.You hired an actor from the classifieds online to be your date for the whole weeks worth of activities.

Yes, an actor. Not some escort, though others would consider it the same thing. Technically you were paying him money to be your ‘boyfriend’. However, you would consider it giving him money to play a part. A few hours before attending the first lunch you planned to meet him for the first time. You sat in the cafe, already dressed. Your outfit of choice done with your ex in mind. The coffee in front of you remained untouched and cooled due to nerves.

You weren’t like this. You didn’t know you’d be desperate enough to stoop to this. However while going through the seating arrangement and guest list a few nights ago you saw that your ex was bringing a plus one. Not just any plus one though. That sent you into a turmoil. Sure, you could show up at the wedding single but after everything you weren’t ready. You needed someone by your side. Even if it was for show.

“Y/N?”

With your mind wandering you easily startle. Glancing up to the voice that called your name. His headshots didn’t do justice. He was tall, broad shouldered, slim waist and toned. Naturally handsome. Not at all what you were expecting of an actor yet his appearance had it make sense.

“Hi,” is all you can manage to say as you’re struck with awe and at the same time worry. How on earth would you be able to get away with having him as your boyfriend? In other words, talk about out of your league in other circumstances.

He grins, “Wow, you are not at all what I was expecting,” he says as he takes a seat in front of you.

He knew it too. Immediately you feel self conscious, straightening out your dress and blindly fiddling with your hair.

He sees the change in your expression, “Oh no, I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s a good thing for me,” he explains. “I mean, when someone hires someone to be their date you automatically expect.. y’know.” He stutters as he tries to explain, scratching the back of his head, “but you- you’re beautiful. I don’t know why you’d need someone to be your date,” he chuckles , dropping his hand and you’re taken aback by his bashfulness, “Can I start over?”

You laugh and nod.

“Hi, I’m Jinyoung,” he holds out his hand.

“Y/N,” you smile taking his hand and shaking it.

He leans forward along the table, “Alright director, let's hear it.”

You raise your eyebrow, “director?”

He grins and shrugs, “You’re calling all the shots, guiding me and since I’m an actor. You know that makes you kind of like the director,”

You nod at his point, pursing your lips. “I see,” there’s a pause between you two. “I’ve never done anything like this before so I’m not sure what I should be doing…” you say.

Jinyoung eases back into his seat, “Let’s start with why you want to do this,”

“Let’s see,” you ponder, “My best friend is getting married,the best man is my ex fiancé who I was supposed to marry two months from now. I’ll be walking down the aisle towards him not as I originally imagined. He’s in a new relationship and from what I hear his new girlfriend in tow is pregnant. Speaking of which I hear she’s six months pregnant which mean he was fucking her while we were together,” you don’t miss a beat, “So all in all I don’t want to be the elephant in the room that everyone pities,” you let out all in one breath and you realize how ridiculous this all really is.

“So where do I come into play?”

“You’ll be my boyfriend. We’ll put on an act that I’m completely head over heels for you and vice versa and that I’ve moved on,” You explain, cringing to yourself. You must come off as desperate and pathetic. Jinyoung is silent and you fear he’ll back out from how ridiculous this all is.

“Alright so tell me about myself,” he finally breaks into a smile.

Once again you’re confused, “Shouldn’t you be telling me about yourself?”

Jinyoung laughs, “I mean, who do you want me to be? What kind of boyfriend? If others start asking me about myself what do you want me to tell them?”

“Oh,” you fidget in your seat, “I never really thought of that,” you feel the stress come about again.

“What’s your type?” Jinyoung asks,

“Uh…” you mull it over. Finally you let out a laugh, “This is going to be harder than I thought,”

Jinyoung grinned, easing back in his chair. “I can be whoever you want me to be,” he says.

Just hours before your big debut as a couple you two had run a quick crash course on your relationship. You two met at a coffee shop. Which was technically true. Together for a few months now. You gave a brief overview of the basics that your partner should know about you. Likes, dislikes, favourite foods, movies, even going so far in detail that he knew what your dominant hand was. In the end, you didn’t want Jinyoung to change so much about himself. Just from the conversation and encounter you deemed him to be polite, even charming. To be honest if you hadn’t hired him and if under different circumstances you might have even considered him real dating material and a potential love interest.

That being said, you had established some ground rules that seemed to have amused Jinyoung once you brought it up to him. First and foremost no sex. You weren’t paying for someone to sleep with. However, sleeping in the same bed would be inevitable as the wedding’s activities took place out of town and lodging for the wedding party just happened to be at the groom’s parent’s estate. When you mentioned “chaste” kisses Jinyoung chuckled, the corner of his eye’s wrinkling. He was even more amused when you said “only if necessary”. Even saying that had you blushing and shy.

“Back to sex,” you continued, “It won’t just be me you’re not having sex with but I ask that you refrain from having any sexual relations with any of the wedding guests, staff, you name it during this week. The last thing I need is to have another beau cheating on me,” You say sternly.

Jinyoung looks at you intently, “Whether in a real relationship or a fake one. I am not a cheater,” he says. “If we’re talking ground rules then I’d like to add that this is strictly business,” you nod in agreement. “However,” Jinyoung adds, “This doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. I think in order for this to work we need to be at ease with one another,” He had a point. What makes a relationship more authentic than friendship?

You realized no matter the prepping, the ground rules established, the nerves would never go away. Jinyoung had volunteered to drive which you were appreciative of considering you needed some time to collect yourself. You weren’t sure if it was the curved roads or the anxiety that made you want to throw up but regardless you closed your eyes while Jinyoung, a complete stranger, drove you to the estate.

By the time you arrive to the estate you have an endless list of how things could go awry. All of which happened to include hospitalization and natural disasters. Your stomach lurched as the windy road curved up the hill. Jinyoung let out a low whistle as the trees broke and the view of the estate came into view. You even straightened up in your seat, nose almost pressing against the glass in awe.

You already knew Mark and his family were well off however you may have underestimated. Your best friend hadn’t mentioned how big it really was or the fact that it was basically a vineyard. It was no wonder the wedding was being held there and that they were accommodating the whole bridal party and a few others. As you pulled up your stomach lurched again and you knew it definitely wasn’t road sickness. You thought you and Jinyoung could arrive discreetly and have some more time to get yourselves settled before the initial late lunch welcome but you were wrong.

“How good are you with meeting parents?”

“Let’s just say I’ve heard many times over that I’m the ideal son in-law and that’s also coming from parents whose daughters I never even met,” he says cheekily.

“Great, cause you’re about to meet mine,” you swallow nervously as you recognize the two figures unloading their car at the front. You should have remembered that you get your timely punctuality from your parents. “Oh god, we didn’t prepare for this. I thought we’d have more time. Maybe if you just keep driving past them they won’t recognize me or my car,” you panic. You hadn’t even told your parents you were bringing a date. You and Jinyoung were literally about to face the wolves.

“Relax Y/N. It will be alright. Besides, if we can fool your parents then everyone else will be a breeze,” Jinyoung says. You started to realize that Jinyoung was logical, reassuring and his tone and the way he talked had a way of making you feel at ease. He made a point, if you couldn’t get past your parents who knew you the best. How could you get past everyone else?

When the car comes to a halt right behind theirs you take a deep breath. Jinyoung places his hand on your knee in comfort, “We’ve got this,”

Perhaps you shouldn’t have said “Hi,” when stepping out of the car. You two may have gone unnoticed while your mom was in the middle of nagging your dad.

“Oh Y/N! You’ve arrived too. Isn’t this place gorgeous?” She pulls you into a tight embrace, “Your dad almost took the wrong turn because he wasn’t listening to me and on top of that he forgot to pack the small bag that I packed my hats in,” she rolls her eyes, “Oh honey, you’re not going to wear that to the lunch are you?” She says looking at your cocktail dress.

“Ahem,” Jinyoung clears his throat as he rounds the car.

If only you could have captured your mom’s reaction on video. It was the definition of ‘jaw drop’ and the exact reaction you would hope for.

“Hi, Mrs. L/N. My name is Jinyoung, I’m Y/N’s boyfriend,” Jinyoung reaches to shake your shocked mother’s hand. “She told me so much about you but she didn’t tell me where she got her beauty from. Now I know,” he charms.

Your mom giggles, acting like a school girl as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “Y/N never mentioned a boyfriend,” she glares at you.

Jinyoung snugs his arm around your waist, pulling you against him. Your first ever skinship yet it was as if he’d done it hundreds of times to you. He is good was all you could think. You hoped you weren’t blushing. “You know y/n, always secretive. It takes a lot of convincing from me to even get her to call me her boyfriend,” Jinyoung laughs.

Your mother nods, “Well, it's great to meet you and we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other and hear all about your love story,” your mom winks and you knew she was already swept away with Jinyoung. It hadn’t even been five minutes and he had already won her over. “Honey, come meet Y/N’s boyfriend,” she says in excitement.

“Here let me,” Jinyoung says leaving your side. Your dad steps out of the way as Jinyoung pulls out not just one but both of your mother’s over packed luggage from the trunk. He didn’t even grimace from the weight of them of them and, unlike your dad, had carefully set them on the sidewalk with ease.

“Strong man. Jinyoung was it?” your dad says reaching out his hand, probably thankful he didn’t have to pull a back muscle.

Jinyoung nods, “Yes sir,”

Your dad puffs out his chest, straightening his posture for intimidation and taking on the protective father role, “So how long have you been seeing our Y/N?”

“It’s been a few months now,” You answer hurriedly. You can tell your dad was just about to ask another question so you hooked your arm around Jinyoung’s, “We’re going to go find our room. Get all fresh and resettled before lunch,” you say already pulling Jinyoung inside with you. Not even looking back as your parents gape at the two of you.

It was a butler who escorts you two to your designated room. As soon as you’re inside you, quite literally, flop onto the bed. “Oh my god,” you drawl, “That was exhausting, how are we going to do that for a whole week,” you roll over onto your back as you stare up at the cream colored ceiling.

You feel the bed shift. Jinyoung lays beside you, one arm propped as he rests his head against it. “It went well,”

Finally you take in your surroundings. The room was quite big, enough to give each other space. There was even a changing screen that was probably for decoration but you’d probably put to use. Even the bed was big, you didn’t even know there was something larger than a king size. Yet despite the size Jinyoung was right next to you. If you just shifted your leg it would brush his. He was too close for comfort. You sat up, shifting over a bit to create space.

“Tell me about your ex,” Jinyoung requests unmoving from his spot.

“College sweethearts, thought he was the one, obviously not,” you shrug.

“But obviously you care enough that you’d go as far as hiring me,” Jinyoung urges for more.

“I am moved on, I think. I won’t really know until I see him.” Which got your nerves all riled up again because your encounter would be in an hour or so. “Like I said, it’s just nice to have you here so I don’t get those sympathetic ‘How are you doing?’ You’re my backbone,” you explain.

“You don’t seem to be the type that’s passive,” Jinyoung states.

“I guess in a way the breakup, the whole cheating and pregnancy thing took something from me,” you shrug. You let out a laugh, “Like my self confidence for starters,”

Jinyoung’s brows furrow. He’s about to say something until you hear a knock on your door. Immediately you look at him, eyes widening. Oh god, you weren’t ready to face your mom again.

“Y/N!” You recognize the voice on the other side of the door and immediately feel relieved as you rush to open it. As soon as it’s open your greeted with a squeal and pulled into a tight embrace.

“It’s happening! I’m getting married, I can’t believe it’s actually happening. You look so good. Where’s your new beau?” She wiggles her eyebrows. Then her attention turns to Jinyoung who's just now starting to sit up on the bed. “Oh, am I interrupting something?” She looks at you and winks. You see Jinyoung blush, clearing his throat.

“Oh shut up,” you roll your eyes.

Your best friend shrugs, “I don’t know what’s…” she pauses, “included in your contract,” She knew everything, in fact, Jinyoung was all her idea. Even so, there was no way you’d be able to hide it from her. You knew her though, she wouldn’t tell a soul not even her new husband.

“Hi,” she finally introduces, “thanks so much for coming to the wedding,”

“My pleasure,” Jinyoung smiles, “Congratulations,”

“Okay! I’m off! I’ll see you two downstairs. Can’t wait to see the look on your ex's face when you walk in together,” she pulls you into another embrace as she whispers in your ear, “That smile alone is enough to get your panties wet,”

“See you later!” You push her out the door, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks. Once she’s out you turn to face Jinyoung. He smiles and the color continues to flush your cheeks. She’s right.

“You can go ahead and freshen up first,” you offer.

“Are you sure?” Jinyoung asks already reaching for the buttons of his dress shirt. His first button comes undone.

“Yes, go for it,” your voice squeaks. “I’ll probably take longer than you anyways,” You say as a second button came undone. You’d probably need a long cold shower feeling like a hormonal teenager. When Jinyoung heads into the bathroom and you hear the water turn on you collapse back onto the bed. It was going to be a long week.

You don’t know why they call it a late lunch when it’s basically cutting into dinner time. You managed to do a quick fix of your hair, also tried not to drool when Jinyoung emerged from the bathroom all dressed up. It was simple. You’ve seen dozens of men, including your ex wear a simple dress shirt and khakis but Jinyoung looked like he just emerged from a catalogue of Hugo boss.

The closer you get to the outdoor terrace and the muffled sounds of voices and piano playing the nerves resurface. As if knowing Jinyoung grabs your hand, holding it tightly.

“You’ve got this Y/N. You’ve got me to lean on,” he encourages.

You nod, finding comfort in the warmth of his hand as it holds yours. You recognize a few of your friend’s relatives. Growing up together you had gotten to know them quite well. Just as expected the view from the terrace were beautiful vineyards, mixed with a garden courtyard that included a sculpted fountain. You walk in hand and hand with Jinyoung, as directors would normally say, action.

“Y/N!” You hear your mother's voice immediately as if she’s been waiting for you to make an entrance. “Oh, you didn’t change,” she tsks as she approaches you.

“That would be my fault,” Jinyoung speaks immediately, “I convinced her not to change. The color suits her and I think she’s beautiful,” Jinyoung snugs his arm around you just as he had before.

With Jinyoung’s statement you can physically see your mother’s thoughts change, “Oh yes I suppose you’re right. It is very flattering on her,” she gleams.

“And I have to say Mrs. L/N you’re looking quite radiant yourself,” He compliments.

Your mother blushes, “Come you two, you have to say hi to Mrs. Lim,” You tried to protest but your mother was already hooked to Jinyoung’s arm and dragging him across the terrace.

Just like your mom, Mrs. Lim is swept away by Jinyoung’s charms. Soon enough, more ladies are surrounding the two of you. There’s swooning and a handful of giggling and lots of playful touching. You’re almost beaming with pride, basking in the glory that you had the hottest date. When Jinyoung was finally introduced to your best friend’s father, the two had gotten along and easily slid into conversation as if they had known each other for a while. It was easy to say Jinyoung blended in well.

“Oh god,” you say when you notice a certain someone making a beeline towards you.

Jinyoung turns his attention to you, “Is it your ex?”

“Worse,” you groan.

You’re greeted with boobs and a high pitched giggle as your name leaves her lips, “Y/N how lovely to see you!” Her words dripped with fakeness.

“Wow, Janine,” was all you could say as you kept your arms by your side trying your best to sound as enthusiastic as she was.

“I know, they just got done,” she proudly shimmies to flaunt her chest,looking at the corner of her eye to who stood beside you.

Some describe this type of relationship as “frenemy”. Friendly towards each other yet in a superficial, don’t really like one another type of way. Always remaining civil despite the shade thrown at one another. Janine in latent terms was interesting. Loves thinking she’s the center of attention and someone that thinks she attracts all the men. You knew it was bound for her to come running to Jinyoung.

“I heard your date is the life of the party, auntie keeps going on and on about him so I just had to come see for myself,” Oh yeah, and she’s your best friend’s cousin. As if on cue she hooks her arm around Jinyoung’s pulling him towards her. “I can see what all the talk is about. I’m Janine,” she introduces.

You tug him back towards you and realize that you may end up in a tug of war against her.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N’s boyfriend Jinyoung,” he says as he squirms out of her hold and, in the most satisfying way, snugs his arm around your waist in unity. You feel smug as you see her little pout. “Can I get you something to drink babe?” Jinyoung asks.

Babe. You never discussed pet names, in fact, your ex rarely called you anything. It was something you weren’t used to but coming from Jinyoung it was something you could get used too. You had to remind yourself it was all for show. You smile and nod. Then he does something you for sure didn’t expect. It was a sweet and innocent gesture. A kiss on your temple before he leaves but you weren’t used to this kind of affection. Especially in front of others. It was so casual, so simple, yet it left you giddy.

Janine’s jaw drops slightly, she doesn’t miss a beat as soon as he’s out of hearing distance. “Where did you meet him?” Emphasizing the ‘you’part of the conversation because obviously Jinyoung was someone out of your league.

“We met at a coffee shop,” you say as nonchalant as you can, once again, partly true.

“Looks like I’m frequenting the wrong places,” she mutters as she watches Jinyoung at the bar, gnawing at her bottom lip.

“Y/N,” your best friend calls your name and saves you. When she comes running over, it wasn’t to save you but to warn you. She pulls you away to the corner of the terrace. “Your ex is here and baby momma in tow. Look at her she’s huge!”

You feel a slight sense of panic. You haven’t seen your ex since the breakup, didn’t even know what the woman he was with now looked like. Your attention is turned towards the entrance where you see your ex. No butterfly feelings, no rush of emotions. He looked tired, bags under his eyes, hair was disheveled. You didn’t know if you should feel relieved that he looked far worse than when you two were together or if you should feel sympathy. His ‘baby momma’ was huge, belly wise. Yet you were expecting some radiant glow but was faced with a frown. Other’s had also turned their attention to the new couple that just walked into the room. You saw your mom’s scowl and no doubt she was whispering to Mrs. Lim the same things you observed. You were pleased with yourself, no outlying feelings. Not even anger.

“You okay?” You best friend asks.

You nod, “Surprisingly yes,”

“In any case, I’m glad Jinyoung is here with you,” she says.

You glance over at Jinyoung who stands by the bar talking with Mark. He holds two glasses in his hand. He catches your gaze, an easy smile over his face as he winks at you before turning back with Mark. A part of you, a big part, wished this was real.

As you had assumed, lunch had moved into dinner, dinner faded into the late night. By the time you get back to your room you were slightly buzzed from all the wedding themed cocktails. Satisfied, you kick of your heels. Falling back onto the bed with your arms spread.

“That went better than expected. We might actually pull this off,” You glance over at Jinyoung whose removing his watch, now starting to undo the cuff links of his dress shirt. You roll onto your elbow as you watch him. “Seems like you and Mark hit it off,”

Jinyoung smiled, “He’s pretty cool. He suggested that after he gets back from his honeymoon we all take a trip to the mountains,”

The way he said it made it seem like it was plausible. Like real lovers discussing future plans. It only made your stomach knot and feel guilty Mark didn’t know he wasn’t going to get his vacay with Jinyoung.

Days had passed and in that time you and Jinyoung had easily fallen into a friendship. The first initial bouts of awkwardness between you two gone. You had to give him most of the credit for that. He was kind, thoughtful, made you feel at ease. He even had your mother wrapped around his finger. Your own father couldn’t calm her from her incessant rants the way Jinyoung could in seconds. It seemed as though everyone was charmed and captivated by him. The days were busy, lawn activities, nature walks, the whole lot, each day followed by cocktail hours and tipsy evenings. Most nights you and Jinyoung would stumble back to the room giggling and teasing one another. All except for one night where your best friend and you left dinner early and had a sleepover in your room. That morning you were surprised to wake up to her instead of Jinyoung. Then during brunch burst out laughing when you found out him and Mark ended up doing the same thing. There were no boundaries even the pillow barricade between you two had come down.

You laid in bed wide awake. The quiet of the night and darkness over the room. Jinyoung sleeping peacefully beside you. Your comforted by his presence, knowing he’s there. You reflected on your days with him. How Mark and Jinyoung instantly became friends, your parents with Jinyoung only after the first meeting. Hopefully they didn’t get too attached being that this would all come to an end. When Jinyoung turned in his sleep his arm fell across your waist. Don’t get attached, you reminded yourself. Yet as you drifted off to sleep you curled into the warmth of his body.

“Ow,”

You’re woken by the sound of a man’s voice. In the state of confusion and morning grogginess you’re startled by your surroundings and the ‘stranger’ who lay beside you. Then you remember, you’re in bed with someone you paid to be your pretend boyfriend, you’re in an estate and you’re currently in his arms and feeling that your elbow was kind of jabbed into his abdomen that’s probably why Jinyoung woke.

“Sorry,” You shift. You’re still pressed against his body, his arm still around your waist.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs.

The sound of his morning voice had to be one of the most attractive things you’ve heard. It’s quiet for a moment and you wonder if he’s fallen back asleep. You lay as still as possible in case he had. Countless worries in your head. Did you look okay? Did you snore in your sleep? You cringed at the thought of possible morning breath.

“What’s the plan for today?” He asks groggily, his arm still around you.

“All I know is that there’s dinner in the East Wing tonight,” you laugh at how ridiculous and posh it all sounds.

“Hmm,”Jinyoung responds and you wonder if he’s falling asleep again. He shifts, not farther from you but closer. He’s practically spooning you, his face nuzzled in your hair. This wasn’t the only time you two had woken up snuggled against each other. Nor was it the only time you two hadn’t pulled away from each other. Your ex and you couldn’t handle cuddling each other. In the morning you’d wake with a gap between yourselves and back towards each other. You never believed that people could actually fall asleep, let alone be comfortable like that. Now you believed that cuddling could actually be comfy. The way you simply melded into Jinyoung’s body gave you hope for cuddling. In fact most mornings when you two woke like this you didn’t want to leave.

“You’re beautiful in the morning too,” Jinyoung murmurs sweetly, catching you off guard.

You blush, he was just being nice. He always says sweet things to you. It was hard to believe that there were actually guys out in the world like this. Were these lines he said before? You understood him saying these things to you in front of others, but he even continued to say things like this when it’s just the two of you. “Do you take tips for flattery?” You joke, trying your best to hold back and not fall for his charm.

If only you could take back what you said, wondering if you had insulted him as he lets out a deep sigh and pulls away from you. Rolling onto his back. You shift too, now both of you are staring at the ceiling though you wish you were back to the sweet moment just before. You cursed yourself for ruining the moment even though it was supposed to mean nothing. Strictly business, this was what he was here for.

“I finally met your ex,” Jinyoung speaks, “Figured it was him considering he was the only one with a pregnant significant other,” he looks at you, “Are you okay?”

“I am. More than I thought I would be. It’s just hard to move past it all with everyone asking me ‘if I’m alright’ or ‘warning me whenever he comes into a room’, telling me ‘I deserve better’,” you shrug.

“You do deserve better,” Jinyoung says quietly.

There it was again, his sweet words.. Making you feel special, reassured. But with his words came confusion. He barely knew you, sorta. You two did have a run down on all your interests but hardly enough to say he knew you best out of everyone. You look at him and he’s still staring. Your pulse quickens. How was it that Jinyoung was able to make you feel so many things in such a short time? With your ex it had been slow. A low simmer throughout your relationship. With the way Jinyoung looked at you, touched you, everything boiled. Heated down to your core and you weren’t sure how to handle it without breaking your own rules, without crossing boundaries.

“Y/N, I -“ The knock on the door interrupts Jinyoung.

“Who is it?” You call out.

“It’s me!” Your best friend answers. “Come on Y/N get dressed we’ve got wedding stuff to do!”

This was the second time your best friend interrupted you two. The timing uncanny. You wonder if you would ever find out what Jinyoung wanted to say both times. If it was important than for sure he’d tell you but considering he didn’t say anything else you pushed it aside.

At the wedding parlour you sat with champagne in your hands surrounded by a tearful mother and giddy bridesmaids and an annoying Janine. Your thoughts distracted. Jinyoung was with Mark and the other groomsmen and guys having a ‘manly’ day. He was by himself with your friends, your father, your ex. In fact it was your first day apart from each other all week. You only hoped everything was going okay. That your dad wasn’t hounding him with too many questions. What if your ex talked to him again? Would he ask intimate questions to compare egos? The anxiousness had you sipping your champagne avidly.

“Thirsty Y/N?” Janine’s voice cuts your thoughts.

“Just tastes good,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“Y’know I’ve been thinking about Jinyoung,” she says.

You glare at her, “Kind of strange thinking of someone else’s boyfriend don’t you think Janine?”

“I just feel like I’ve seen or met him before,” her high pitched voice and the way she says it makes you know she knows something. What it was you weren’t sure. Maybe she saw him in one of those small toothpaste commercials Jinyoung had mentioned before. Your stomach turned at the thought of her actually skimming the classifieds.

“Hmm strange,” you try and play it off. When you go to take another sip you find your champagne flute empty. “I’m gonna get a refill,” you say using that as a perfect excuse to dodge more of her questions.

By the time your friend comes out your buzzed. Heck, that whole bottle of champagne might as well have been just for you. You were drowning a mix of nerves and Janine hounding you with a bottle of bubbly.

“You’re so beautiful,” you tear up as you embrace your best friend.

“I was so nervous that this final fitting wouldn’t go so well. All night I couldn’t sleep because I was worried I gained weight or that they would cut the hem too short,” she says giddy as she looks in the mirror. “Now all I have to worry about is making sure Mark is at the altar the day of,” her eyes well up.

“Oh trust me, Mark is so going to be there and you’re going to take his breath away,” you reassure.

Your best friend grins, “Let’s celebrate with more champagne!” She signals one of the ladies.

“Don’t mind if I do,” you hiccup, basking in your best friend’s happiness with her.

He’s the first thing you see when you and the girls arrive back at the estate. The guys all coming up from the terrace, laughing. Mark has his arm slung over Jinyoung’s shoulder. Was it the alcohol that made your stomach flip or was it seeing Jinyoung? You were sloshed. Your gait unsteady, face flushed.

Mark’s the first one to notice, “The girls are back,” he says immediately walking to your best friend and kissing her. Jinyoung’s gaze immediately sets on you and you feel your pulse flutter.

You hear Janine’s voice from behind you and being on edge you decide to put on a show. Waving enthusiastically to Jinyoung you all but skip over to him. Your caught in his arms as he’s taken aback, bracing the two of you as you almost trip.

“Hi boyfriend,” You hiccup wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jinyoung grins, “Are you drunk?” He asks brushing the tousled strands of hair in your face.

“More like an alcoholic,” Janine mutters as she walks by, “She drank the whole bottle to herself. Classy,”

You stick out your tongue at her before directing your attention back to Jinyoung. “Did you miss me?” You hiccup.

“Gross,” Janine rolls her eyes as she stalks off. You could almost see the green monster of jealousy on her back.

Jinyoung kisses your forehead, “Of course,”

By the time he says that Janine and everyone else are already out of earshot. No one else was around to hear him but you figured he was keeping it for show.

Your arm is still wrapped around him. “So how’d the day go?”

“It was fun. I even beat your ex in arm wrestling,” Jinyoung grins.

Your jaw drops, “You did?” You didn’t say it out of disbelief that he beat him because you had no doubt Jinyoung could. It was more of the fact that he was in that situation to begin with.

“Your dad convinced us. Kept going on and on about pride and worthiness and obviously I had to defend my girl’s honour,” Jinyoung teases, “Later, your dad gave me the sex talk,”

You groan resting your forehead against Jinyoung’s shoulder. “I’m so embarrassed,”

Jinyoung tightens his hold around you, giving a little squeeze for reassurance. “I like your dad and all your friends,”

“I’ll pay you more for having to deal with that,” You look up at him grinning.

Jinyoung frowns, his hold loosening. “There’s no need. Like I said I had fun with them,” his tone short. There it was again. Whenever you remind yourselves this was a transaction he’d always pull away. Literally. All of it was too confusing.

You brush his tone aside trying not to read into it. “So do you think you could beat me in an arm wrestle?” You say trying to keep the mood light.

There’s a brief pause before Jinyoung relaxes the smile returning to his face again. “It’d be a close call for sure,” he squeezes your arm. You relax in his arms feeling the buzz cloud your head. “Looks like you could use a nap before dinner,” he says.

You nod in agreement. Already feeling Jinyoung wrap his arm around your waist for support. You lean into his arms as the two of you walk together back to your room. “So what else did you guys do?” You ask.

“Played tennis,”

“You play tennis? Is there something you can’t do?”

Jinyoung shrugs, “I was doing good until Mark’s old college friend showed up,” when you arrive in your room Jinyoung locks the door. He places his warm hands on your shoulders and gently turns you around. “How about a bath?” His voice is low, soft‍. Your heart quickens, your bodies so close that one centimeter back and you’d be leaning against him. It’s tempting to just lean, to feel your body pressed against his.

“Together?” You stutter.

You hear him chuckle. “Tempting,” his hand trails down your arms. “I was suggesting I draw you a bath so you can relax and sober up,”

“Oh, okay well I’m just going to go drown now,” you pull away from him embarrassed.

Jinyoung grabs your hand and pulls you back to him as he chuckles. “Are we going to break one of our ground rules?”

Your face flushes, “No I..” you stutter.

“As much as I would love to,” he rests his forehead against yours, “I don’t take advantage of drunk women,” he lays a chaste kiss on your forehead. Before you could even say or question anything he’s pushing you towards the bathroom. “Make sure you lock the door,” he grins when you gape at him. “I don’t trust myself,” he winks as he shuts the door.

You do as you’re told. Locking the door in front of you as you take a deep breath to collect yourself. Was this all fake? Was it all part of his role? You soaked in the tub as your head filled with thoughts and your body coiled with lust. He was right, the bath was sobering you up but it didn’t help clear your confusion. You could admit that you were attracted to him. Everything about him drew you in. Seeing him with your friends and family made you like him even more. He sparked something in you, something that you may have not even experienced yourself. Have you ever wanted like this? No matter how many times you reminded yourself that this wasn’t real, your feelings were. You liked him. Liked being with him. Liked the way he made you feel and how in such a short amount of time he was already bringing back your confidence, mending the little pieces of yourself that your ex broke. He plays tennis, beats your ex in arm wrestles and somehow manages to get along with your dad. He knows how to diffuse your mom and hang with the guys and charm the ladies yet still make you feel like you’re the only one in his sights. He knows exactly what to say to you to calm your nerves and say sweet words without you having to pry it out of him. It was all too fast. Not once did you expect this to happen when you first decided to do this. As bad as it sounds he was just supposed to be your arm candy. Just something for you to flaunt and show off to let everybody know you’re fine and to back off. He was much more than that now. Your parents loved him, your friends loved him and you loved -

“Oh god,” you groan at the realization. Sinking lower into the water as you rub both hands over your face as if trying to wash away what you just realized.

There’s a knock on the door followed by the sound of his voice. “Y/N?”

You sit straight up, grabbing the sides of the porcelain tub. Water splashed everywhere, spilling over the tub. There’s another knock, this time a little more urgent.

“Y/N?” His voice more panicked.

You hop out of the tub, grabbing the nearest towel as you unlock the door quickly opening it. Your faced with Jinyoung’s surprised face. “What is it?”

“It’s quarter to six and you were taking a long time…” his words trail off as he eyes follow the water droplets down your collarbone “I just hoped you didn’t drown or pass out or something,” he swallows.

You tighten the towel around your chest gripping it tight because a big part of you just wanted it to fall and see where it went from there. “Sorry did you say it’s almost six?” You couldn’t believe you had been in the tub for that long.

Jinyoung raises his hand. His index finger swiping a droplet of water just above where you gripped the towel. “Mhm,” he answers distracted.

Your heart sped, mouth going dry and your fingers cramped from how hard you gripped the towel. “Jinyoung?”

His eyes meet yours and you notice a change in his eyes. Dark, heated. For a split second you’re ready to let go of all your rules. “Can you pass me my dress hanging in the closet,” you swallow dryly.

He pauses for a second and you wonder, even hope, that he’d forget everything as well and just take you. His hand drops and you breathe. Partly relieved, the other disappointment. Of course he wouldn’t. He was a gentlemen, poised and he also established right from the get go that this was strictly business, friends only. He doesn’t say anything as he walks to the closet.

“Thanks,” You murmur as you take it from his hand. Then you shut the bathroom door, locking it once again.

When you emerge from the bathroom Jinyoung is changed also. If you weren’t already wound up from earlier then surely you were now. You felt a little pathetic. Too hormonal. Even when you changed all you could think of was sex. How long had it been? Not even that, when was the last time you actually orgasmed? Was it wrong for you to assume that Jinyoung would be good at it like he was everything else?

“Shall we?” Jinyoung’s voice interrupts your thirty second fantasy of you ripping his dress shirt open.

“Yup,” your voice cracks and Jinyoung cocks his brow.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks.

You nod frantically, “Just hungry,” you lie as you walk towards the door.

As soon as you open it your faced with Janine. Perfect timing you curse to yourself. She eyes you, her face grimacing. Yet she tried to mask it in front of Jinyoung.

“Little late for dinner aren’t you?” She jabs.

You hook your arm around Jinyoung’s. “We got a little… caught up,” you implied. From the corner of your eye you see Jinyoung’s lips quirk.

Janine rolls her eyes, “Gross,” she mutters under her breath as she walks away.

You wait for her to go ahead. Once she’s out of sight you sigh in relief, unhooking your arms from his. You don’t dare look at him due to embarrassment.

“So what exactly were we caught up with?” Jinyoung chides.

“Getting ready,” You shrug stills avoiding eye contact. “Let’s go?” You start walking but Jinyoung grabs your hand tugging you back towards him.

“Did I mention you look beautiful?” His voice is low.

“No but thank you,” you play it off, hoping Jinyoung didn’t feel the thrill of your pulse.

“Well you’re beautiful, you’re amazing and I need to kiss you.”

You glance around the hall, no one in sight. You give him a puzzled look, “You don’t have to there’s no one around and Janine’s gone - “

“I know. I mean I need to for myself,” he pulls you to him. “Not for anyone else,” he murmurs. He looks into your eyes, his other hand moving to your cheek. You close your eyes at his touch and he kisses you.

Just like that. No preamble, no one to show off to, just you two. You realized that if this was what need feels like then truly you’ve never felt it before. Every bit of you that could was heating, when his tongue grazed yours you felt everything ignite.

How did thirty seconds of contact make you feel like you need to jump on him and rip his clothes off? You wanted, needed, desperately and yearned for more even as he began to pull away.

“You deserve better than your ex,” he murmurs against your lips.

“I know,” your voice is squeaky, “I know,” you sigh as you catch your breath.

He takes a step back, still holding your hand. “I guess we better head down before people send up a search party,”

Luckily dinner hadn’t started but to say you and Jinyoung could just easily slip in without going unnoticed was wrong. As soon as you entered the room your dad swarmed in on him. His arm slung around his shoulder as he pulled Jinyoung towards the bar. Murmuring something about a brand of whiskey that “he would love”. Jinyoung grins over his shoulder at you.

You could use a drink as well. After what happened upstairs, the kiss, you were feeling all hot and bothered. Thirsty.

“Y/N, can we talk?”

Your thoughts are interrupted by a voice you recognize and tried to avoid this whole week.

Your ex. The person you least wanted to have a conversation with right now. You'd rather deal with Janine than him.

“Oh hi,” is all you say. Wrapping your arms around yourself. Now that you were up close you noticed he was in fact, changed. Your feelings for him also changed. There wasn’t even resentment.

“I’ve been wanting to come and talk to you since we’ve arrived but it’s been impossible, that man won’t leave you alone,” he scowls.

“Well Jinyoung’s very attentive and he is my boyfriend,” You point out.

“I noticed.” He scuffs his shoes along the floor. “You look happy,”

And you look like hell is what you wanted to say but bit your tongue. “I am,”

Your ex stands there all awkward and you realize that you’re completely over him. He didn’t even mean anything anymore. Even in your relationship he made you feel awkward and not sure of yourself. In latent terms taking away your sexiness.

Being with Jinyoung made you feel good. You’ve rediscovered yourself. Found what you wanted in a guy.

“We had something Y/N. Something good,” your ex says. He’s looking at you as though this conversation really matters.

“Well…” you pause and try to work out what to say, “If we did then maybe you wouldn’t have cheated,”

“I messed it up. I’m sorry Y/N. I’ve been so stupid,” his face is twisted like he may start crying and you’re struck by a sudden lightening bolt of realization. If it had been two months ago you may have thrown yourself into his arms. Two weeks ago you could have tried to strangle him for his adultery. Now you couldn’t be bothered with anything except pity. He looked like he hasn’t slept in a month, you could only imagine what it’d be like when the baby comes along. When you don’t say anything your ex continues, “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you Y/N,”

Past your ex’s shoulder you see him. Jinyoung. He’s been watching you two from the bar. Close enough that in a moments signal he could be at your side as your knight in shining armor and save you. Yet you didn’t need him. He winks at you and you realize that he really is there for you but knows you can handle it.

Then you realize. If a man, any man, can make you feel that special at a distance, even under this pretense, then your ex has never even been close to being ‘the one’ for you. Now you seem to be lacking any empathy towards him. The only thing you felt was thankful that you didn’t end up marrying him.

“We’re not getting back together,” you firmly state.

“Whose not getting back together,” Jinyoung slides to a halt beside you, his arm snuggling around your waist.

You nod towards your ex, “You should have realized everything a long time ago,” you pause to take a breath, another lightening bolt of energy and realization. “You can’t love me now and you couldn’t have loved me back then or you would have never fucked another woman,” Jinyoung squeezes your hip in encouragement. “Anyways, I’m with Jinyoung now,” you look up and gleam at him.

He smiles back, “And on that note I think it’s time we start having a fun time,” he inclines his head towards the small empty dance floor.

“Y/N, doesn’t dance,” your ex states clinging to his last hope that there was still something between you two. Acting as if he still knows you.

“Not with you she doesn’t,” a voice interrupts from behind him.

“Jackson!” You squeal pushing past your ex as you embrace your long time friend.

“There’s my girl. I’ve been looking for you,” he spins you around.

Your ex moves out of the way of your flying feet, “Take it from someone who's been where you’re standing right now. I’d worry about him,” your ex murmurs, patting Jinyoung on the shoulder.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Jinyoung mutters as your ex walks off with his shoulders slumped.

“When did you get here!” You ask as soon as your set down.

“This afternoon just in time for tennis ” Jackson grins keeping his arm slung over your shoulder.

You should have made the connection earlier when Jinyoung said that Mark’s college friend arrived, which reminded you.

“Jackson this is Jinyoung my boyfriend,” you try and pry yourself out of Jackson’s hold but instead he only tightens his arm around you shoulder, almost into a headlock.

“We met briefly during tennis,” Jackson says.

“I’d like a rematch. Was kind of winded after all the previous matches before you,” Jinyoung smiles yet you notice there isn’t any warmth behind it.

“Sure, I’ll take you on anytime,” Jackson replies.

There’s a brief pause between all of you. You wouldn’t call it tension, more like testosterone in the air. You slip out of Jackson’s hold immediately moving to Jinyoung’s side linking your arm through his. “Looks like dinner is just about ready,” You say in the nick of time as you see people making their way to their seats.

Jinyoung moved his arm to slide around your waist as he pulled you close. Almost possessively. You were to preoccupied with the seating arrangement that you missed the very quick and very clear look Jinyoung gave Jackson. They may have competed against each other in tennis and Jinyoung may have lost, but he was not going to compete and lose you.

Your reunion with Jackson didn’t end. He sat beside you during dinner. The two of you reminiscing on old times, and discussing new things in life, mocking Janine as she asked for numerous substitutes that she may as well have just drank water.

“Shh,” you laughed, nudging Jackson as he whispered in your ear about Janine’s ‘lopped sided’ boob job.

“Excuse me,” Jinyoung says as he gets up.

You grab him by the hand, “You okay?”

Jinyoung leans down and kisses your temple, “Getting a drink,” he smiles before walking off.

Jackson leans over, “He hates me,”

You shake your head keeping your gaze on Jinyoung as he moves between tables. “Maybe cause you beat him in tennis,”

“Or maybe because I’ve been occupying his girl all night,” Jackson prods.

“He’s not like that,” you fiddle. Besides, it wasn’t real. Why would he feel like that?

Jackson stares at you blankly as if you were missing the biggest flashing lights in front of you. “With the way he looks at you and the way he looks at me like he wants to take me outside and gut me. I’d say he’s crazy about you,”

You glanced towards the bar and saw that Jinyoung was watching you steadily. You balled the napkin in your lap. Your thoughts flashing back to your kiss in the hallway. He had been the one to initiate it. Nothing about that kiss reflected ‘chaste’ like in your agreement. Your thoughts following were definitely far from innocent.

“Dance?”

“Hmm?” you turn to Jackson then you notice the music playing in the background. “Sure,” you grin. You take his hand, getting up from the seat as you follow him to the floor.

Jinyoung stood there at the bar, battling back jealousy that he’s never felt before as he watched you with Jackson. Your ex’s words getting to him and crawling under his skin. Your dress clung, flowed with your movements and Jackson’s hand moved further down your back side. He knew what it was like to hold you like that, to feel your body against his. To hold you close. He wasn’t like this. Wasn’t supposed to be like this. He didn’t care about what's real or not, he wasn’t the type to let another man whisk his woman away. He cursed as he strode out to the dance floor.

“Looks like I’ll see you later,” Jackson smiles triumphantly at you, kissing you on the cheek as he feels Jinyoung tap on his shoulder. When he walked away he figured you had a keeper. Your ex always stood by idly with you and him and he deemed him unworthy since he couldn’t hold his own. Jinyoung was just as worthy of an opponent outside of the tennis court. Jackson only wondered how you could be so blind to not see that your boyfriend was crazy, head over heels for you.

Jinyoung picked up rhythm perfectly, matching his steps to yours and to the music. You relaxed, closing the little distance between yourselves, resting your cheek against his shoulder. Enjoying the moment with him though you wondered if it was for show. You hated how you couldn’t tell what was real and what was fake. The kiss earlier was that real? The way he looked at you, did he look at other women like that? At this moment, all you wanted to do was enjoy the time you had with him.

“You and Jackson are pretty close,” Jinyoung murmurs as you both sway.

“We’ve been friends for a while,” somehow you feel the need to explain it to him.

“Does he also know about our arrangement?”

“No,” you answer.

“Good.”

He doesn’t say anything else, only continues to hold you close while the music played. Others had started to file onto the dance floor. Mark had pulled your best friend away from the dessert table and pulled her close.

“If you and Jackson are so close, why didn’t you ask him to be your date to the wedding?”

Something in Jinyoung’s tone had you draw back and look up to see his face. “It would be weird. No one would believe that we were together,”

“Why would you two have to pretend? It could very much be real,” You were tempted to laugh, but the look in Jinyoung’s eyes had you hold back. “I don’t know what you mean,”

“I believe you do.”

“If I’m catching on correctly then I think you’re crazy. He’s just a friend,” You defend.

“I may be your fake boyfriend but I’m not an idiot,” even as the words came out he realized the unfairness behind them, maybe he was an idiot.

His words sting, catching you off guard. Your stomach knotting at the sudden confrontation. You quickly look around hoping no one was in earshot.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you but maybe we shouldn’t discuss it here,” you stiffened.

“You’re right,” and with that Jinyoung grabs your wrist and pulls you from the dance floor. Jackson who’s now at the bar smiles to himself as he takes a pull from his beer.

“Jinyoung!” You call out his name as you try your best to keep up with his pace. Getting over the first initial shock. You had passed by your parents, your mother murmuring delightfully ‘lovers quarrel’ as Jinyoung drags you through the room. Even as you passed your best friend she winked at you.

“What’s going on?” You say as you finally enter the room and are behind closed doors.

“I don’t know,” Jinyoung runs a hand through his hair as he paces the room. He lets out a sigh, loosening the buttons of his dress shirt, then rolling up his sleeves feeling claustrophobic. He was being irrational and he knew it, yet unable to control it.

“Well you almost blew this whole thing up.”

“I know,” Jinyoung sighs as his pacing comes to a halt. “I know,” he repeats.

“You were being ridiculous. Jackson is nothing more than a close friend,” you state firmly starting to get riled up. You could only imagine what would’ve happened if someone heard. “And even so it shouldn’t matter,”

“And why’s that?”

“Because this is fake,” you try and laugh but you hesitate,“Right?”

“You’re an idiot,”

Your eyes widen with shock, lips parting in surprise as a mixture of fury and hurt build.

Jinyoung steps towards you, placing his hands on your arms. “I’m in love with you. I’m not acting, my feelings for you are real. I don’t want your money, I want you. I want to stop pretending and damn it, I want to take you on a date when this is all over so you could be my real girlfriend,”

“What?” Is all you could say as you try and register everything. You place your hands on his chest, trying to push him away so you could think yet he doesn’t budge.

“You’re amazing, beautiful, funny and even though I got that crash course I want to take my time to get to know you,” Jinyoung continues, then he pulls away just far enough to look down at you. “Unless this is completely one sided then never mind I do want the money,”

You laugh, shaking your head as you bring your arms to wrap around his neck. “You don’t know how much I wanted this to be real,”

He kisses your forehead before you see his smile of relief. “So are we still doing chaste kisses?” he teases.

“Only in front of my parents,” you grin, initiating the kiss first.

It may have started off chaste but soon he pulled you close against him. His hands moving to lower back as he draws your body to him. You give, yielding against him. Jinyoung’s mouth is pliant against yours, enticing as his name rolled off your lips in a quiet, satisfied sigh. There it was again, the heat, the roaring boil that ignited with his movements. You had never kissed like this, never been kissed like this, everything that had built throughout the week spilling over the edges in complete and gratifying pleasure. Your fingers twine in his hair as your movements deepened. Nothing is innocent about this and everything down to Jinyoung’s hand tugging at the hem of your dress and guiding you towards the bed broke your ‘ground rules’. Soon your back is lain against the soft mattress, Jinyoung’s body hovering over yours. It had been so long that even the way his knee moves between your legs has you ready to go over the edge. His hands are tender, caressing, seducing as the hem of your dress rides higher up your thigh. His hands aren’t the only thing exploring, his lips are now at your jugular. Even more lethal than his hands as he stokes the lust that continues to build. With his hands on your hips he coaxes you to move, as if knowing what you wanted. You begin to grind against his thigh, thankful for the choice of undergarments. Silently thanking yourself for wearing your sexy underwear, not to mention your thinnest. Slowly you grind against the taut muscle of his clothed thigh.

Jinyoung pulls away for barely a moment just enough for you to see his smile before he dives back. Tongue meeting yours eagerly. “J-Jinyoung,” you breathe when his mouth moves to explore your neck once again. It wasn’t enough, every kiss made you want him more. Desire soaked you, the need to be ravaged filled you yet you feel empty.

His hand slides lower, between your legs as it brushes over lace. You suck in a breath at the contact, so delicate yet the feeling hits you hard. You arched against the sensation, urging for more. Jinyoung obliges, sliding your panties aside. He teases, fingers gliding up your slit. You were wet, the sound of it mixed with your heavy breathing filled the room. You groan out loud when Jinyoung begins making perfect circles around your swollen clit. Your dress is hiked up to your waist, the barrier of lace the only thing preventing you from being completely exposed.

“God, are you always like this?” Jinyoung murmurs as his fingers slide to either side of your clit, watching at how reactive you are at his ministrations.

“It’s been so long and you do it so well,” you exhale, hands digging into your sheets. “Don’t stop Jinyoung,” you moan when his fingers enter you, his thumb rubbing against your clit.

“Believe me, I’m not going to,” Jinyoung says as he lowers his lips to yours again. You moan as his fingers continue to pump and twist within you. Already you’re nearing delirium, the thrust of his hand is meticulous. His movements purposeful, especially as he rubs his arousal-coated fingertips around your sensitive bundle of nerves before plunging into you again. Your eyes are shut tight, flashing white and sparks of colored pleasure appearing. Your moans are ardent, your skin damp. When he pulls his hands away you almost groan out of frustration. So close to toppling over the edge and now you clench around nothing. “Relax,” Jinyoung grins as if reading your mind. You see his smirk, “I just want a taste,”

You’re still trying to gather your bearings as Jinyoung pulls back, kneeling and moving down. Your legs are still spread as Jinyoung hooks his hands into the waistband of your panties and pulls them down. Tossing them somewhere in the room. His mouth hovers over your sex and you wait in anticipation. Immediately you buckle, arching up and hands fisting in his hair the minute his tongue grazes your sensitive clit. When his lips close over your sex, his name leaves your lips in a rasp. His tongue and lips intermixing that builds you towards impending climax. His arms are hooked around your thighs, there was no escape, no matter how sensitive you were becoming. He’s merciless, relinquishing with the work of his mouth on your core. Every now and then you can see Jinyoung look up from the top of his lash line, as if watching to see your next reaction and what a mess you were becoming all from his doing.

You were learning new things about him. He was a giver, a sadist, good at everything. At this very moment Park Jinyoung was going to be your downfall. It was sweet torture, pure unadulterated pleasure continued to saturate you. His tongue drags up your clit back down to your core, swirling, probing. Every movement immoral, purposeful. The sound he was eliciting from you obscene and surely he knew that no one has ever eaten you out like this.

“I can’t,” you moan. Your body is shaking, you’re holding onto whatever sanity you have left. Thighs quiver as they close around him. You want to push him away yet instead your hands in his hair pulls him closer. Jinyoung knows, his chuckle haunts you as he keeps his hold around your knees. His tongue is meticulous, your hips are arched and pushed high. With another flick and circle of the hard muscle of his tongue your climax is released. You’re over the edge, coming down hard and he doesn’t let up. You’re cursing and his name leaves your lips on an oath repeatedly. Your breath is caught in the back of your throat. Jinyoung kneels up on the bed, looking down at you. Using the back of his hand to wipe your remnants.

You’re putty, you can’t even prop yourself up onto your elbows. You don’t even have the energy to pull your dress back down. Though something in the way Jinyoung looks at you says there’s no point. Your gaze trails down his torso, fixing on the outline of his dress pants that’s prominent. You nip your bottom lip in anticipation, suddenly feeling full of energy.

“What are you doing?” Jinyoung grins, cocking his brow as you find the strength to kneel in front of him.

“Returning the favor,” you say as you work the buttons of his pants. He doesn’t resist as you bring the zipper down. He works the buttons of his dress shirt and the chiseled plain of chest is revealed and as more of his torso is exposed you can’t help but have your jaw drop. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

“What?”

“Is there anything wrong with you?” You tease, making a blatant point to skim your eyes over his body.

“I - what?” Jinyoung asks flustered.

“Nothing,” you laugh before you kiss him, your hand trailing downwards. He is already hard, straining against the cotton material. He tugs your bottom lip as you grasp the top of his boxers tugging them down. He sighs when he’s freed, cock springing up as you held back another comment about how surreal he truly is. It’s his turn to curse as your hand wraps around the base of his shaft. You begin in slow, long strokes. Rubbing your thumb against his tip, spreading his pre arousal along his sensitive head. Jinyoung exhales, eyes shut as he enjoys the way you stroke him.

“Y/N I - oh fuck,” His sentence is cut off when you bend, taking him into your mouth. Your head bobs. Tongue moving in circular motion along his shaft. Jinyoung groans as you take him as deep as you could, he’s big enough that you need to use your hand as well. His breathing is shallow, as you continue to move up and down, hand and mouth on his cock. You find it satisfying, you’re practically smug when Jinyoung’s hands fist in your hair, groaning as his head tilts back. He even begins to guide you, helping you find your rhythm as your mouth works his cock. Using his technique from earlier, interchanging between both your hand and your mouth.

“Ah - Y/N,” Jinyoung juts his hips back suddenly. A trail of your saliva follows, you look up at him wide eyed. Jinyoung chuckles pushing his hair back, “You’re about to test my pride,” You grin up at him smugly. “Come here,” he pulls you back to him, his hands resting on your cheek as he pulls you in for a kiss.

You slide both hands up the planes of his body until resting on his shoulders. He kisses you, tongue flicking against yours. He reaches the hem of your dress and you raise your arms as he pulls it over your body. Letting it join the rest of your garments on the floor. Lips only separating for that brief moment before reunited again. He guides you to lay down once again, positioning himself between your legs. His hand rests along your rib cage, fingers grazing the underside of your breasts.

“Mmm,” you squirm against him as he caresses your breast.The pads of his thumb grazing against your nipple, circling. He presses soft kisses to the crook of your neck, then he bends closing his mouth of your breast. The heat you felt earlier that was dwindled mildly reignited. Set a flame. He presses himself to your center. Your hips rolls in roll response, feeling him at the edge of your entrance. “Jinyoung,” you moan at the stretch. You had expected it but god, he filled you. You had to adjust, hiking your knee up to give him more leeway as he slowly begins to thrust into you. Your hips arched higher, he rolls his hips and he glides in further, bottoming out. Your fingers are digging into his shoulders with his precise, slow strokes. You’re matching each other’s rhythms, moving in sync together. Unified as one as each other’s moans and breaths fill the room. Jinyoung’s hands fist in the sheets by your head, his lips feverishly moving with yours. Your clenching around him, uncontrollable pleasure rocks and shakes through your body. You moan, arching against him as Jinyoung continues to thrust within you as you come around him. His hips snap forward, thrusts erratic. Your name leaves his lips as Jinyoung comes as well, filling you. Thrusts slowing, with long strokes. Still joined Jinyoung collapses on you. You laugh, hands limply running through his hair as small kisses to your face and shoulder are made lazily.

“How much do I owe you for that?” You sigh.

You laugh when Jinyoung pinches your butt.

Jinyoung lets out a low groan rolling off you and tugging you along with him. You wrap your arms around him, heading snuggled on his chest. Jinyoung lazily caresses your side.

“So the wedding is tomorrow,” Jinyoung murmurs.

“I know, I can’t believe how fast this week went,” you yawn. “I’m going to miss all the fine dining and cocktails,”

“That’s not going to end,” Jinyoung kisses your temple.

You look up at him, “It’s not?”

Jinyoung adjusts, “Pretty sure all the dates I take you will have some form of cocktails,”

Dates. Real dates. You and Jinyoung were officially a couple. It all seemed surreal.

You adjust, propping yourself on your elbows to face him, “And what about fine dining?”

Jinyoung grins leaning up to kiss you, “My instant noodle skills are impeccable,”

You smile and bend to kiss him, “I can’t wait,”

“Can’t wait to see you walk down the aisle tomorrow,” Jinyoung says pulling you back to lay against him.

“Are you sure? I love my best friend and everything but her choice in color is…” you trail off and scrunch your face at the thought of your peach tulle dress in the closet.

“You look great in anything,” Jinyoung chuckles, “but I have to say,” he says shifting himself again over top of you, “This is my favorite look by far,” he brushes your love tousled hair.

“Maybe I’ll show up naked to the wedding and see if everyone else would like this look as well,” You tease.

Jinyoung smiles, “Knowing your mother…” he doesn’t even have to finish his sentence for you to know.

He lays back down holding you close to him. You snuggled against him. “Cuddling isn’t so bad after all,”

Jinyoung raises his eyebrow at first, “Well I’m glad you think so,” he buries his face in the crook of your neck. “Cause I’m a cuddler,” he murmurs.

You smile. Who would have thought that three weeks ago your search for a fake boyfriend would get you a real one.

#kwriterskollection #g7hyungnet #kpoptrashtag #park jinyoung #got7 jinyoung #jinyoung smut #park jinyoung smut #got7 fanfic #park jinyoung fluff #kpop fic #got7 #got7 smut #jinyoung

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thelaclippings · 3 years

Text

A Season in Retrospect

So, turns out Kawhi’s knee injury was significantly worse than we thought. I mean, it’s not career ending (at least that we know of), but the reality is that he never was coming back to the 2021 Playoff Picture. Do I think the Clippers handled this information well? Maybe. Do I think the Clippers should do everything in their power to keep Kawhi around long-term? Probably. But do I think betting everything on Kawhi coming back to his prior form justifies selling the farm? Absolutely not.

Here’s the thing: as a Clippers fan I am absolutely happy to see Kawhi having chosen the Clippers as his team of the future two years ago. I was excited to see Paul George traded to LA and not end up in the purple & gold, a year removed from spurning the Lakers in free agency, even if it broke my heart to see SGA heading back to OKC in return. I was happy to watch them piece together a team that could legitimately combat LeBron and his then-new running mate Anthony Davis. But the season came, the Clippers looked great (especially against LA - trust me, I was there opening night in a sea of crying Laker fans) and it took a pandemic to derail everything.

Now, I am not a Bubble-whiner, but was it ideal to have the Bubble be the lasting impression of what it prototypically means to traverse the grueling 82 game season and battle the best of the best? No. The Bubble had it faults, but the Clippers had every shot to win it all just like anyone else that was there. Their collapse is historic and another black mark on the Clipper name, but for me that was greatly the fault of Doc Rivers and his relentless approach at sticking to his guns and NEVER making the unconventional adjustment. He’s absolutely known for it, and the Bubble proved it. Would this have been any different if there had not been the bubble? Maybe not, but the many factors of what happened between stopped play and restarting in the Bubble had more effect than is given credit for (i.e. Montreal Harrell and the loss of his best friend, his grandmother).

This last season showed that the Clippers can be scary when everything is clicking. Yes, other teams suffered injuries throughout the season but the Clippers always appeared to be playing at a 7 with intent to turn it up to 11 when the playoffs came. But their secret weapon was the adjustments Ty Lue was willing to make. If you rewatch each series, you will see the EXACT same formula in each one. Games 1 & 2 were close losses, and by Game 3 the adjustments would kick in. Each series had a young Superstar taking the reigns and showing they were unstoppable. Stephen A. Smith talked about it after every game and even went so far to declare Donovan Mitchell the “greatest Jazz player of all time” based on his performance against the Clippers. Then, the Clippers would put that fire out and the rest of the team would have to pick up the slack. And despite the positive depth of each team (and the universal agreement that the Clippers lacked depth), the Clippers rose to the occasion time and time again.

And when Kawhi went down, we didn’t blink. The momentum of confidence from the coaching staff gave guys like Terrance Mann & Luke Kennard the added support to produce some amazing performances. I firmly believe the Clippers could have won it all had Game 1 of the WCF had a couple calls go our way and PG hit a single Free Throw at the end of Game 2. Then some adequate rest between the WCF and the Finals might have recharged enough for a true run of the Bucks. BUT this isn’t a woulda-shoulda-coulda. Like the team, even I was exhausted by Game 6 following a marathon of games every other day for a solid 3 weeks.

So it’s on to the next season. A chance to let the excitement and accomplishments from this past season settle in and optimism of the future. Except we are now regularly inundated with news about Kawhi and his future with the team and what the extent of his injury might mean. And while it is probably the most unpopular opinion on the internet, I’ll be the first to say it: if Kawhi doesn’t want to be here, then he needs to go.

If Kawhi wants to be in Dallas or Miami, then let him. If his only avenue there is through a sign and trade, then get some quality in return for his loss and move on. Make more adjustments, get into the right groove, and move on.

I’ve watched nearly every game of the last two seasons and Kawhi on the floor is universally the best player. But there are moments - regularly - where I am not confident that he inspires his teammates. He is known to be low-key on his attitude and that can be jarring. I want passion, emotion, excitement. I personally thrive off the energy of others and maybe that’s where seeing Kawhi on TV or from a distance at the Staples Center doesn’t always translate. But PG’s energy does. Even when he’s saying some dumb stuff (Playoff P...) he still seems to have the support of his teammates. Without PG we wouldn’t have kept Reggie Jackson at next-to-nothing. PG might be the reason Reggie sticks around on a reasonable contract over the loads of money another team might throw at him.

Kawhi brought us Ibaka, sure, and barring the injury might have been a really great impact on the playoffs. But it’s the role players that carried us through the playoffs when Kawhi went down. And if Kawhi still had a big hand in keeping them motivated, then let’s not lose him. Let’s hope that matters enough for Kawhi to not only want to stick around but keep this team together.

The idea of trading away the bench in order to bring in another question-mark player is nauseating to me. If we have to lose guys like Patrick Beverly, Marcus Morris, or Terrance Mann, I don’t want to see the return be mid-level guys who need to jive in a new situation. If the return is anyone but Damian Lillard, I don’t want them. No John Wall. No Russell Westbrook. No Ben Simmons. No middle-of-the-road players that don’t truly elevate over what we have. Marcus Morris was once seen as one of these guys, and at his best still is. Why trade him unless you are absolutely certain the guy coming back is better? Pat Bev is the heart of our team, and proved that in crunch time he is still easily the most effective defensive stopper in the league. Don’t believe me, listen to comments from the Jazz series on guys not wanting to get stuck with him on them.

Yes, their contracts are high. And yes, nothing can be done without moving on from these guys. But why does anything need to be done? If there’s one for certain that needs to be addressed, it’s Kawhi. If he is not the leader of this team, which I would argue Paul George has more of the proven leader qualities than Kawhi has outwardly shown, and he might want to play somewhere else, then use his albatross contract and the unknown of his injury and how it affects his future as the last-ditch-effort trade chip to bring some talent back and give us the flexibility.

Would I be opposed to Kawhi-to-Dallas? Mostly, as I don’t like enough of the surrounding talent to come back as collateral. Short of getting every draft pick imaginable from Dallas, guys like Tim Hardaway, Jr. or Kristaps Porzingis don’t give me the confidence that I would want to be traceable assets or reliable otherwise. Hardaway had a great resurgence, sure, but he needs to find a way to Indiana to keep playing for Rick Carlisle. Porzingis on the other hand is still a good player, but has proven he’s not worth the contract and thus untraceable to a third team so you’re stuck with him. And he does not signlehandedly replace what Kawhi brings. I like guys like Maxi Kleber, but then we have so many bigs we wouldn’t know what to do with, and trading away Zubac’s to accommodate incoming bigs would be a huge mistake. I also would hate the combination of Luka & Kawhi from a competitor standpoint. If we ran into Dallas a third time in the playoffs next season, but they now have Kawhi instead, we are toast. Bottom line.

I’d send Kawhi to Miami. Mostly because he would only be our problem if they made it to the finals, and as a basketball fan I’d love to see that Miami team go head to head with the Nets for a couple seasons and see what shakes out. If Kawhi joined Jimmy Butler in Miami, the East would, in my opinion, have effectively balanced itself back out with the West. I also think the return would be better. Guys like Tyler Herro, Duncan Robinson, Kendrick Nunn all have trade value. Get some picks in return as well and we have some quality building blocks. Or truly pull off the incredible by making this trade as a stepping stone to another one that nets the Clippers Damian Lillard.

I’ve tinkered with the NBA Trade Machine and made this work a variety of ways. Sending Ibaka to the Blazers and Kawhi to the Heat allows the Clippers to bring back not just Lillard, but potentially one of Miami’s sharpshooters or even a talent like Jones Jr. or Kanter. Sporting a lineup that includes George and Lillard without giving up guys like Morris, Zubac, Mann, or Beverly would be a huge win. Keeping Rondo for experience and leadership would be welcome though he likely wouldn’t play much, and spending the remaining resources on retaining guys like Nic Batum & Reggie Jackson would be crucial.

All in all, I would hate to see Kawhi leave a team that could have won it if the injury never happened. I would hate to see this team broken up at all. Bring back Batum, bring back Jackson. Bring back guys like Cousins or even Pat Pat (despite his effective 0 minutes played in the playoffs). Leadership and chemistry is the final piece in this already established puzzle.

But if Kawhi needs to follow his own path, then I think the Clippers need to suck it up and move on.

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artistic-writer · 4 years

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The Contract :: CS Omegaverse :: Ch 5

Title: The Contract Rating: E Summary: Emma had never wanted much in her life, despite being married to one of the richest men in the world. For ten years she has felt like a prisoner in her own marriage, denied the one thing she wants the most, but her husband cannot help but bargain her want like a cheap business deal. Enter Killian Jones, the Alpha her husband has hired to make sure she gets what she wants. And then some. A/N: Here is ch 5!! Graham is still a dick, Emma is very naughty and Killian buys a sex toy! This chapter is so much fun ;) Enjoy! Thanks to @kmomof4 who beta’d this one, because she is awesome <3 I would also like to give a MASSIVE thank you to @itsfabianadocarmo for her beautiful artwork that she so graciously allowed me to use from now on! <3

This is an Omegaverse fic featuring A/B/O dynamics. Whilst this varies from fandom to fandom, for the purposes of my fic, there will be no mpreg. Just so you know. There will however be knotting, breeding, heats and other delicious things that come along with A/B/O. If you do not know what A/B/O is, feel free to message me :) Many thanks to @hollyethecurious @shardminds @kmomof4 @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke and @effulgentcolors for letting me bounce my complicated ideas of you lol

If you wish to stay away from this fic, blacklist the A/B/O tag.

Taglist: I’ll be honest, i have lost my taglist for this fic, so if you want a tag, please message me here on on discord (Salem #5158/ [email protected]) and I’ll add you! I’ve tagged the following people i KNOW want to read this, but i don’t want to accidentally tag you if you do not like ABO.

@hollyethecurious @shardminds @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @thisonesatellite @xemmaloveskillianx @hookedonapirate @teamhook @winterbaby89 @carpedzem @courtorderedcake

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The lobby of the hotel was as Killian would have expected when he had received a call from Graham’s PA informing him that they were to meet again. Graham had insisted, as part of their agreement, that Killian would be paid in cash upon a meeting after each visit with Emma. Of course, that meant that there was no paper trail of his or Emma’s indiscretions, which suited Killian just fine. It was the only part of the damned contract he actually agreed with.

Just like everything else Graham Humbert had a hand in, this meeting place was as flamboyant and pompous as Killian had foreseen, with silken drapes with golden embroidery hanging on every window. Massive diamond chandeliers hung along the hall, and the sound of water flowing through an indoor fountain was accompanied by the soothing lilt of music that Killian was sure was emanating from some kind of hidden speaker system. The huge, marble columns stood floor to ceiling, lining the edges of both sides of the room, and were so highly polished that Killian could see his reflection clearly in them as he walked past. The floor, equally as polished to within one inch of its life, did little to absorb the sound of his footsteps as he made his way to the bar area, and Killian kept a careful eye out for anyone who might be more than unwelcomed at the meeting.

He had noticed that Graham never travelled alone, always meeting him with two big, burly henchmen at his side. They never sat with them, but were never far enough away that Graham would be in any sort of trouble if he found himself in a sticky situation. In a world where strength was everything, Graham’s actions made Killian chuckle. Humbert so desperately wanted to be an Alpha that he often forgot that, fundamentally, an Alpha would never need protection, or a bodyguard, let alone two of them, and it just spoke to how insecure Graham really was.

Killian’s lips ticked up into a small, tight smile that he hid under a swipe of his tongue, lest one of them be nearby. It wasn’t long before Killian spotted one of them, a big, fat lump of a man he had seen before, distinguished by three neck ripples of fat sitting on top of the collar of his shirt. He was slouched forward over a table nursing a glass of amber liquid, most likely expensive whiskey due to the reputation of the place, with one foot up on the cross beam of the chair and the other resting on the toe of his shoe. He had sushi, Killian could smell that much, four tiny pieces of fish decorated with carrot and cucumber that probably cost as much as his suit.

Off to the sushi scoffing man’s left was the other pitbull Graham kept at hand who Killian liked to refer to as ‘bowtie’. The man was easily spotted in a crowd because he always insisted on wearing a red bowtie with a crisp white shirt with matching red cufflinks that sat next to his oversized hands. He didn’t say much, not even a little grunt, but he was always sitting closest to their boss, and it wasn’t long before Killian spotted Graham Humbert behind him. He was, as usual, pretending to watch the world go by like it owed him something, and Killian felt the bile rise in his throat.

“Jones,” Humbert greeted cordially, pushing himself to his feet and extending his hand. Killian’s eyes flicked towards the man’s palm but he scoffed, his jaw ticking in annoyance. When he lifted his gaze back to meet Graham’s, a sickly sweet smile grew over Humbert’s lips. “Sit down,” he commanded like he was talking to a dog and motioned to the seat opposite him.

Killian refrained from hitting the man by biting his inner cheek and undid the single button on his suit jacket so that he could sit more comfortably. He sank down into the seat, a plush but executive tub chair with a checkered pattern that only just accommodated his bulk, and leaned back to take in the man before him. He hated Humbert even more with each meeting and he couldn’t help but dig his nails into the brass rivets at the front side of the chair’s arm.

“I’ll spare you the formalities, Mr Jones, because I’m a busy man,” Humbert began, sinking down into his own chair.

Killian thought the knee high table between them wasn’t enough space and he despised the feeling he had when Graham reached into the breast pocket of his fine, tailored jacket and fished out a pristine white envelope that clearly bulged with his payment. Humbert slid it across the table, tapping it with a finger.

“I’d love to know what you did with my wife last night.” He raised a brow, almost impressed. “She’s very happy.”

The thought of knotting Emma flashed across his mind, and Killian had to suppress a smirk, shifting in the chair when his groin tingled.

“Not something I’m willing to share this time.” Killian looked Graham dead in the eyes and didn’t look away, emphasising the first word. “However much you pay me.”

Graham took him in, sniggering at Killian’s aggressive tone. “Yes, well, you can spare yourself the Alpha dramatics, Jones. I wasn’t looking to take anymore of your ‘secrets’.” Graham flicked his wrist, his clearly solid gold watch heavy and rattling just a tad against his skin, and then looked at the time. “I don’t have time for your stories today.”

“Something more important to do?” Killian snapped.

“Someone, actually,” Graham sneered, licking his lips afterwards. “And she won’t wait long.”

Killian bit his tongue, regretfully deciding to not upset the man who could control his access to Emma.

“Please,” Graham scoffed, brushing the wrinkles from the front of his shirt as he pushed himself to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye Killian saw both bodyguards stop whatever they were doing and prepare to leave as well. “Spare me the judgemental looks and angry Alpha brooding. A man has needs, I’m sure you can appreciate that.”

Killian leapt to his feet, chest to chest to Graham. “I’m not just a man though, am I?”

Graham didn’t flinch, instead grinning like a proud cheshire cat. “You’re whatever I pay you to be.”

The blood pounded in Killian’s ears, his heart rate well and truly elevated to beyond what his body was comfortable with. Emma was worth this. Emma was worth anything Humbert could throw at him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t play unfairly either.

“Your wife wants a knot,” Killian blurted, his hot breath fogging Graham’s face through clenched teeth. When Humbert’s smile faded, Killian knew he had touched a sore subject. As much as Graham could pretend, he would never have that one true Alpha attribute he wanted as desperately as his wife. “It seems a shame to leave her so unfulfilled,” Killian shrugged. “I mean, we might as well not even have this arrangement at all if she isn’t getting what she wants so you can get what you want.”

Killian heard Humbert take a deep breath and consider his words. Killian mulled over his expression, watching the puny man’s entire thought process by simply studying his face, Graham’s eyes widening between frowns as his mind went to work. Killian could tell Graham was conflicted. No Alpha for Emma meant no mistress for him, and a small smile tugged at the corner of Killian’s lips.

“I might have an idea so that everyone is happy,” Killian shrugged casually, knowing from the way Graham was sweating that he hadn’t found an option to his own dilemma yet.

“Go on,” Graham encouraged.

“I know of a certain toy that could facilitate what your wife wants,” Killian offered. He stepped back and buttoned his jacket, pushing the button through its hole slowly and deliberately. The smile that graced Killian’s lips was a combination of memories of the day before, when he had actually knotted Emma for real, and the knowledge that Graham was so arrogant, he would believe this whole thing to be his idea. Killian knew Emma would want nothing less than the real thing, his knot thrust up into her as she whimpered in delight, but that didn’t stop Killian playing Graham’s ego against him. “There would be no actual knotting, of course,” he finished, looking up to Graham’s intent expression. “As per your contract.”

“Like a sex toy?” Graham frowned.

“Exactly,” Killian nodded smugly. “A lot of hired Alpha’s wear them during encounters.”

“How much extra would this cost me?” Graham sneered, disgusted but intrigued at the idea all the same.

“Nothing,” Killian shook his head. “I’m sure I can afford one, what with your generous payments.” Killian leaned down and retrieved the money from the table, the envelope crinkling in his hand as he folded it in half and tucked it into the front pocket of his pants. “I just need to know if it's against the agreement we have to use one.” Killian's voice was darker, and he fixed his gaze on Graham once more.

Graham waggled a finger in Killian’s direction, a small chuckle tumbling from his mouth. “You know, Mr Jones, I think I’m beginning to like you.”

Killian shuddered, swallowing hard and looking down to his feet.

“Go buy what you need,” Graham nodded, balling his hands in his pockets. “In fact, why don’t you take Emma with you and then go back to the apartment.” Killian’s head snapped up at his offer and Graham just gave him a sickeningly modest glare like it was still up to him whether Emma saw Killian or not.

“What’s the catch?” Killian narrowed his eyes.

“No catch,” Graham assured him with a bow of his head, the most honest thing Killian had ever seen him do. Maybe the fool was in love with his mistress after all. “Think of it as a bonus for a job well done.”

“And what’s in it for you?” Killian scrutinized Graham, knowing full well that a man of his stature never did anything without something in return.

“Let’s just say, with Emma away, the mice can play.” Graham winked and Killian felt his stomach turn over. Now he was absolutely sure the man before him held no love for his wife at all, willing to defile their marital bed with his mistress, something he knew Emma was against doing with him. Then again, he also knew it wasn’t about respect for her marriage, but finding something new with someone else, somewhere else that held no memories of Humbert repression.

Killian felt sick at the thought of Emma as some sort of transactional incentive, but he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, even if it was from Graham Humbert. Killian already knew he would do anything for her, Humbert be damned, and he dreamed of taking her away from everything she knew and showing her the life she deserved. Emma’s life wasn’t pleasant, he knew that, but when she was with him, she was herself, the real Emma, and Killian wanted that for her all of the time. Maybe he could show her that today.

“If you insist,” Killian nodded in agreement, only too willing to take Emma out and show her exactly how precious she actually was.

Not seeing Emma for a few days had almost killed Killian, especially when he knew that the next time they would see each other, they would be shopping for something he had tricked her husband into agreeing to. The idiot. Truth be told, Killian had in fact needed to pre-order the knotting toy in advance and they would just be popping to the sex store in order to retrieve it, and that freed up their entire afternoon. Because of his girth, the store had needed to have it custom made, something that had made Killian dance inside with glee because he was sure, at some point, Humbert would want to see it. Even if they didn’t need it, because Killian would be damned if he thought Emma wasn’t getting the real thing, he wouldn’t put it past Humbert to need proof.

All of his worries soon dissipated when his cell phone buzzed in the pocket of his pants. Killian had been lingering outside of the store for far longer than he should have been, one or two of the staff occasionally looking out of the black tinted windows to make sure he wasn’t some creep stalking their customers, and just like the last message, Emma was apologizing for being late. His thumb lingered on the cold surface of his cell phone, her words almost identical to the last message and setting panic in his bones.

His mind raced with scenarios that might make Emma late, from good to the very worst, and he cursed himself for even thinking some of them. He knew she would be arriving by a driven car, so graciously provided by her husband that Killian knew was just a front of generosity so Graham was sure she was out of the way whilst he entertained his mistress. Killian’s heart had long since given up breaking for Emma at the thought though, because he knew she would gladly let the mistress move in if it meant she could see him more often.

Finally, after what seemed like forever holding his breath and tapping his locked phone against his other hand, she came into view. He’d told her to dress for lunch but he had also neglected to remember the social divide between them, her dress far superior to his attire. He’d gone casual, just some chinos and a v-neck t-shirt under a summer blazer, but Emma took his breath away in what she was wearing. It wasn’t the plain, almost sheer magnolia off white top half that had him really rigid, but the bottom half, a short, black, thigh high skirt sitting under a matching rippled cumberbund style belt that hugged her waist and let him see the skin of her thigh. He swallowed hard as she approached, her hips sashaying from side to side with every step away from the car, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as her heels carried her closer.

Her hair was perfect, a fishbone braid across the top of her crown and hanging over one of her shoulders. Killian felt himself grow hot and imagined his hand wrapped around it, pulling her onto his cock over and over, just like a few days ago. Wisps of her perfectly toned blonde hair sprang out into the air but it just reminded him of how gorgeous she was as he watched her sleeping post coitus, his hands itching to flatten them and stroke the shape of her skull lovingly. Last but not least she was wearing a smile, one he had never seen in any photographs before, and one that was assuredly reserved for just him.

“Mr Jones,” she said sweetly, her hand reaching out for him after she tucked her matching cream clutch under her arm.

Killian took her hand with a growl, lifting it to his lips and inhaling her skin before looking up to her with a sultry stare and pressing his lips to her knuckles.

“Emma,” he breathed, her name everything. “You look beautiful, as always.”

“Thank you.” Emma smiled sweetly. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” Her eyes roamed his body, taking him in from head to toe and back up again, her tongue darting out to taste her lip as her eyes lingered on the bulge in his chinos.

“When you have quite finished,” Killian told her, tugging her fingers and bringing her back to reality. “One quick stop and we can be off to the restaurant for lunch.” Even saying it out loud made him tingle with warmth, like they were going on a real date, in public, with people seeing them side by side, and Killian couldn’t suppress his Alpha urge to let everyone know who Emma would be with at that moment.

“I’m not going to lie, Killian, I know exactly where we are, and there are no restaurants nearby.” Emma’s lips twisted into a coy smirk and she felt him squeeze her fingers. “What’s going on? Why are we here?”

Killian couldn’t hide his glee any longer and he let their hands dangle in front of them as he stepped forward to greet her with another kiss to her cheek. The softness of her skin made his knees buckle a little, but he managed to regain a sort of semi-composed state for what he had to tell her.

“This was actually Mr Humbert’s idea,” Killian smirked and when Emma’s eyebrows shot up on her forehead, he raised one too. “Or so he thinks.”

Emma looked perplexed. “Why would Graham let you take me to a sex shop?” She wasn’t even annoyed at the mention of her husband, because the idea of being here, with Killian, was far outweighing any hatred she had for the man who thought he supposedly owned her.

“That’s a story for another time,” Killian told her cryptically. He stepped back, interlocking their fingers and tugged her after him, encouraging her to follow. He bit his bottom lip, looking her up and down between steps, sighing audibly in appreciation of the way she moved after him. “I’m not sure this outfit is appropriate for lunch,” Killian teased, shaking his head. “How am I supposed to keep my eyes on you and one eye on every other man in the place?”

“And why would you need to do that?” Emma feigned modesty and Killian noticed a little more sway in her hips as she walked, drawing, tempting him to a fate he knew would have him killed one day.

Once they were through the doors, and hidden from any prying eyes by the darkness of tinted windows, Killian pulled his hand from hers and let it fall to her hip, his fingers hungrily grabbing at the material of her skirt and bunching it up until it was raised up towards her waist a little more. He stepped into her and Emma gasped when her bare shoulders hit the cold of the window and his knee between her legs stopped her from losing her balance and tumbling to the ground.

“You know why,” Killian growled sultrily, his nose pressed against hers and their lips a hair's breadth apart. She smelled of perfume, floral with undertones of her natural scent that had Killian rolling his eyes in his head and his jaw clenching tighter than he thought possible. It seemed a few days had been too long without her near him, and his hands skimmed the shape of her arse hungrily.

“How can you be so sure other men find me as desirable as you do?” Emma’s words were strangled in her throat that had gone bone dry from the way Killian’s thigh was rubbing against her clit through her panties.

Killian chuckled darkly, his tongue licking over her lips as he moistened his own in response to her fingers gripping his bicep through the material of his blazer. “Emma, Emma, Emma,” Killian taunted playfully with a shake of his head. “When are you going to realise how precious you are?”

Emma’s hand snaked up behind his head and held it in place as she moved hers to the side, the softness of her lips brushing against the shell of his ear as she whispered, “When are you going to show me?” Her fingers clawed over the back of his neck, raking through the hair there ever so gently that it had all of Killian’s nerve endings firing at once. “Again,” she added, her voice lowered and full of fire as she slipped out from underneath him and made her way into the main part of the shop.

Killian grunted in frustration, spinning his entire body off the window pane and following after her like a man on an invisible tether. She was something, he had to admit that, especially when, by watching the shape of her behind in her too short skirt, he had failed to realise that she was heading towards the lingerie section. He looked up just in time to see her holding the barest slip of material up to her body before looking back at him through her lashes and quirking a brow.

“How do you think this would look on me?” She asked innocently, tucking the material under her breasts and accenting them as she pushed them up.

“Not as good as it would look on the floor,” Killian whispered as he reached her and inspected the garment. It was made of lace as red as blood, with two cut outs on either side that would definitely show the contrast of her milky skin down to her hips where the built in lace underwear sat. The bra part was padded, hiding away her best parts behind another layer of matching lace and Killian made a mental note to make sure that never happened. His thoughts were soon interrupted when he noticed, with a glint in her eye, Emma was indicating to the slit like opening on the panties with a wiggling finger and a coy smirk.

“You sure that’s where you want it to be?” Emma teased, biting her tongue and feeling the material of the bra as if she were Killian kneading her breasts.

Killian whimpered and toyed with the little red bows that stuck to each hip of the garment, the material pure silk between his fingers. All he could do was shake his head, an Alpha pathetically reduced to just actions by a woman, and he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“I’ll be right back,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. He peeled the lingerie from her grip and Emma almost squealed with glee, her face erupting into an excited smile that made the skin behind his ears burn hot with pleasure. “I need to pay for this and retrieve something, then we shall go to lunch.” He took a step back, the air just two feet from Emma much easier to breathe in, but he immediately missed the heavy weight pressing down on his lungs.

“Perfect,” Emma beamed at him. She had that glint in her eye again and Killian’s jaw nearly hit the floor when she lifted her hand to her face and gave the tip of her thumb a salacious lick, the mystery behind the green of her eyes darkened by her lust once more. “I’m starving.”

Killian couldn’t help the way he was smiling, despite Emma telling him more than once to stop. They sat opposite each other in an almost rooftop restaurant and Killian had made sure they were seated next to the window so that they could both enjoy the view, not that he had seen much more than Emma right in front of him. Emma as she was. Emma in the new lingerie he had just bought her. Emma like she had been when she took his knot. God only knew how his brain managed to fathom much else at this point.

They had, somehow, managed to order some food, even if they were both anxious for what was to come afterward. Humbert had pretty much given him the green light to take Emma back to her apartment, so Killian wasn’t going to miss out on an opportunity when it presented itself. When he thought about it, finding loopholes in Humbert’s contract really was about as much fun as he had imagined, especially when so much was at stake.

“Thank you,” Emma said softly, shaking him out of his daydream by placing her hand over his. Killian looked down to where Emma’s fingers were tangling with his, the edge of their palms resting against the pristinely white table cloth, and gave her a sideways cock of his head.

“For what, love?” he asked sweetly, rubbing her thumb with his.

“For this,” Emma said with a nod, motioning around the slowly filling restaurant with a wave of her free hand. “For showing me that I’m not just arm candy for a businessman.”

Killian sucked in a breath and released a laugh at the same time. “Emma, you are so much more than that. What will it take for you to realise that?”

Emma blushed and diverted her eyes back down to focus on the hypnotic way Killian’s thumb was still etching the feel of his skin onto hers. Her smile faded and Killian was sure he saw a little bit of a tear in her eye, frowning and giving her hand a gentle tug until she looked back at him.

“Look,” he began, licking his lips. “I know this isn’t ideal, what we’re doing, but for what it’s worth, I’m having the time of my life.” Killian smiled at her warmly and she mirrored the shape of his lips with her own. “What happens when your husband is sick of his mistress is my only uncertainty.”

“You think he let this happen because he has a mistress?” Emma scoffed a laugh, looking away from him sadly. “Please, Killian, there have been other women and you’ve met the man. He’d do anything to avoid a divorce.” The sadness that laced her words pained him right to his soul and Killian felt his fingers tighten around hers when she turned her head to stare blankly out of the window. “The only reason you and I ever met is because he was trying to keep me quiet and retain his Humbert bravado. He can take this all away from me as quickly as it began.”

“I’d like to see him try,” Killian said defiantly.

“He’s done it before,” Emma almost sobbed, her voice weak and small in the back of her throat at the memory of how many times Graham had promised her so much only to rip it all away to keep her in line. She never wanted to imagine how it would feel to have Graham take Killian away from her now that she had known him.

“Aye, maybe, but you’ve never had me fighting for you before, have you, darling?”

At his words, Emma looked back to him and welcomed the way his confidence in her was written all over his face, from the curve of his lips as he smiled to the sparkle in the blue of his eyes. Emma had never known any Alpha other than the Humbert men, and certainly hadn’t known one to give the likes of her the time of day. But Killian was different, affectionate and passionate, and she knew that no matter what, she would be making the most of him tonight.

“You are a man of many firsts, Mr Jones,” Emma smirked. She pulled her hand from his and moved to lean forward, her head resting on her hand as the point of her elbow sat precariously on the edge of the table. She trailed one of her fingers over her lips, giving them a little tap.

“I’m also wonderfully committed to seconds,” Killian grinned. “And thirds, and fourths.” He winked, letting the corner of his lips pull up into a sideways smirk, one eyebrow jumping up higher on his brow.

“And is that what you want?” Emma teased, rolling her shoulders back so that Killian had no choice but to divert his eyes down to the sway of her breasts underneath the sheer, cream fabric of her dress. “To knot me again?” Emma blinked, looking up at him through her lashes. “And again?”

Killian didn’t mean to laugh but he hoped it helped that the tips of his ears turned a rather attractive rosy colour as he pawed at the patch of skin behind them, his tongue darting out at the memory of her taste on his lips.

“Like I need to breathe, love,” Killian said finally, rolling his bottom lip under his teeth and letting an appreciative hum escape his mouth at the memory of the feeling of her body around his knot. “I’ll beg if I have to,” he admitted with a nod.

“Would you want it now?” Emma’s eyes lit up with glee and she couldn’t hide the excited grin on her face. “With all these people around?”

“Aye,” Killian said, his words even and his voice a little huskier than it was before. He leaned forward and Emma could have sworn he was staring directly into her soul. “I’d fuck you over this table until you begged me to knot you because you couldn’t take not having it any longer.”

His words, despite what she had asked for, made Emma’s entire body prickle with heat. Every muscle was remembering the feel of his hands on her skin, the feel of his cock inside of her and recalling the way it felt to have such a rock hard, welcome intrusion like his knot. She pressed her thighs together at the thought, her core clenching with need and a little bit of hot, wet, discharge leaking out of her. She wasn’t sure if Killian could smell her, but his eyes definitely darkened around the edge of his hues and he drew his fingers into a clenched fist as he stared her down.

“I’m sorry,” Emma blushed, swallowing hard. “Would you excuse me? I just need to use the ladies room before our food arrives.”

Killian shook his head slightly, and pushed himself to his feet. It was probably the most gentlemanly thing Emma had ever seen and had been sure, when Graham failed to do it, it was the stuff of myths and legends that women only read about in books. The heat across her cheeks was more vibrant now, and there was no way Killian didn’t know what his words had done to her, or why she was heading to the bathroom at all.

“Of course,” he said cordially but grabbed her arm as she moved past him, leaning in and almost licking the shell of her ear with his words. “Hurry back,” he whispered, his words dripping into her ear like a hot wax that sent a shiver down her spine, before he stepped away and left her wanting even more than before.

Emma barely made it to the bathroom, her legs shaking and her skin on fire with a burning itch that only Killian could sate. She ran through the door, politely apologising to a woman she bumped into on the way, and flattened herself against the cool tiled wall. She let out a breath, long and uneven, her lips quivering slightly as she gulped down air, trying to quell her arousal. Emma had never felt so alive, her whole body aching as she pinned her weight against the wall, fingers clawing at the grout and her knees threatening to buckle at any second.

“Fuck,” she panted, pinching her eyes closed. How did Killian have the ability to make her feel this way with just his words and a sideways sultry glance? Emma was sure it was black magic. Or witchcraft. Or more simply, it was her pure, unadulterated need, two compatible people fitting together like puzzle pieces, her body crying out for him every time they met. Whatever it was, she was pretty sure that she would never make it back to her apartment without some sort of cooling relief for the sizzling heat that was eating her up from the inside out.

Emma bolted for the nearest stall, slamming the door closed behind her and sliding the lock into place. Not even the toilet seat lid offered her relief as she sat down on the cold plastic, and she slumped back against the cistern with a grumble. She pinched her eyes closed but all she could see was Killian, his eyes darkened to a lustful grey and his lips curved into that toying smirk he always did before he fully ravaged her. She loved it, and needed it - him - but all she had right now was her hand and her imagination, so with a hurried pant, Emma bunched up the material of her skirt, opened her legs and slipped her hand between her thighs.

The material of her underwear was already wet, the damp patch just below her clit cool on her skin. Her fingers toyed over it, sliding back and forth, teasing her body with the idea that she might slip lower. The friction was minimal but just enough, her nipples hardening in her bra and the material rubbing against them, causing her even more frustration. She let out a groan that was a little too loud, the sound of her voice reverberating off the bathroom walls.

She only stopped for a second to make sure no one had heard her, instantly missing the way her hand felt on the outside of her panties. She skimmed her fingers over the fabric again, sighing when she pushed through her folds and found her clit, circling the nub and feeling her entire body relax as she sucked in a breath through her teeth. Even just thinking about Killian had her body reacting like this, essence practically dripping from her core as she strummed out a beat over her clit.

She had to make it quick or Killian would grow suspicious, and Emma wouldn't put it past him to come looking for her. What if he did? Suddenly it didn't seem like such a bad idea to take her time, but Emma wasn't that patient, parting her legs even wider and settling the material of her underwear over herself where it contoured the shape of her clit and, with every flick, had white light erupting behind her eyelids.

Emma canted her hips to meet the rub of her hand, her body shaking as her clit grew harder and more sensitive with every sweep. Her thighs quivered and she needed to place her free hand on the stall wall for balance, her inevitable orgasm creeping up on her and leaving her whimpering Killian's name. The room was spinning, even behind her eyelids, and the warmth of the heated bathroom was beginning to affect her, a sheen of sweat condensing across her skin.

She’d never done this before, masturbated in a public place, and it was the most exciting thing she had ever done. Her entire body tingled, her hand shaking, her brain telling her to stop the assault on her clit that was pulsing and throbbing, but her body crying out for more. Her breathing was uneven and the skin under her braid tightened against her head, pulling all of her hair and reminding her of how Killian had grabbed it a few days ago. It was enough, the memory of Killian and what he could do to her making her legs and back stiffen as she came, her hand furiously rubbing at her clit through the material of her underwear and extending her pleasure through painfully gritted teeth.

It wasn’t enough, Emma could tell that the second her orgasm rippled away as quickly as it had arrived, but it was enough to keep her sated for now. Or so she hoped. Now her only problem was her soaking wet panties. Emma looked down between her legs, holding the ruffles of her black skirt aside as she inspected the dark grey patch that had appeared there, her clit still pulsing with aftershocks as she tugged the material from her skin. There was no way Killian wouldn’t know about this, because even she could smell herself in the confines of the cubicle.

He had done this to her. It was still beyond her exactly how, but Killian had this effect on her like nothing she had ever experienced before. It was like her body was his obedient puppy, eager to please him, willing to do anything for a little attention and it had never felt so right to let it. Emma’s lips turned up into a wry grin as she stood back on wobbly legs, shimmied her wet panties to the floor and then picked them up, straightening the creases in her skirt whilst balling the damp material in her fist. Horny didn’t even begin to describe how she felt, the thrill of masterbating in the bathroom of a restaurant combined with the knowledge Killian was hers all afternoon still coursing through every fibre of her being.

They had to skip lunch and Emma knew exactly how to do that.

When she reappeared, Killian was absentmindedly staring out of the window across the expanse of the city, but the slight rise of his elfen ear gave away his smile. He didn’t turn around when she approached, but he knew she was there, heels gently tapping the polished floor, their echoes eaten up by the sounds of the other diners. His hand rested on the tablecloth, fingers stretched outwards as if covering hers that had left the spot a few minutes ago.

“Sorry about that,” Emma chirped as she neared him. She reached the table, her hip brushing his shoulder as she passed, and in one swift motion that even left her surprised by her own audacity, Emma dropped her sodden lace panties to the table right next to his hand. “I needed to take care of something.”

Killian’s head snapped towards the garment beside his hand, his fingers lifting off the tablecloth that had suddenly become like hot embers under the tips. Similarly, his ears were burning with the tell tale tint of a blush that was soon replaced with the ferocity of his inner animal as he plucked the lace from the table and was immediately hit with her scent. It was the perfect combination of the sweetness of peaches and the exoticness of star anise, and he would gladly risk the toxicity of the latter if it meant he could feast on her for hours.

“You couldn’t wait until after lunch?” Killian smirked, tucking the panties under the table and out of sight of the other diners. He scrunched the material in his hand and rather than tuck it into his pocket, he unzipped his fly and tucked it into the crotch of his chinos and through the peephole of his boxers. Even the mere feeling of her clearly self-fuck soaked underwear against his cock had him hard in seconds and he had no doubt she knew exactly what she was doing when she had dropped them at his proverbial feet.

“I’m not hungry,” Emma lied coyly, leaning forward in her seat until her bare clit met the cold, harsh surface of her chair and her eyes fluttered closed.

“Oh, you’re hungry, love,” Killian teased, opening his legs a little wider so that his length wasn’t so painfully restricted in his pants. “Just not for what’s on the menu in this place.” He quirked his brow at her and Emma smirked back at him, rolling her bottom lip under her teeth and letting out a groan as she rocked forward again.

“And you are?” Emma teased back, twirling the tail of her braid around her hand and giving it a little tug, mimicking the way his primal urges had turned her on so much a few days before.

She couldn’t help the way he was playing her like a finely tuned piano, despite being in a public place, as if something was calling to her, telling her to jump and trust that Killian would catch her. Without a second thought she knew she would. She would leap from whatever height if it meant falling into his arms, especially now, and if the way he was looking at her like a ravenous animal was anything to go by, she would gladly let him devour her too.

“Pay,” Emma demanded quickly, hurrying to grab her clutch beside her.

“W-What?” Killian stammered, shocked by her sudden urgency to leave.

Emma pushed herself to her feet and Killian stumbled to follow her, the hard-on in his pants restricting his ability to stand upright. He stepped out from behind the table and she flattened herself to his body, not a sliver of light able to pass between them. She groaned in her throat, the feel of his hardness against her setting off another flow of slickness to escape her core, only this time there was no fabric to stop it and it began its descent down her inner thigh. Emma’s hand snaked up behind Killian’s head and she clutched the hair there in frustration, her only outlet in a room full of people.

“Pay now,” she ordered again, her breath hot against his neck where she couldn’t help but taste his skin there with a lap of her tongue. “And I’ll suck you off in the car.”

They had only just made it out of the car park when Emma had dove across the gap between them and was fumbling with the zipper of Killian’s chinos. He hissed as she snaked her hand into the opening, deft fingers stroking over the outside of his boxer shorts and hardening him even more than the anticipation was. Killian's knuckles were white from how hard he gripped the wheel and Emma tore into his underwear like a thing possessed once she realised how hard her prize was.

Emma had never blown an Alpha before and once his cock sprang out into the artificially heated air in the car, her eyes went wide with glee. Alphas certainly put most men to shame, and she licked her lips at the sight of him standing proudly for her attention before grasping him as firmly as she could close to the base of his cock and shivering from the filthy sound he made in response.

“Eyes on the road, Jones,” Emma said huskily, running her tongue over the point of her canine. She felt like a wolf, hungry for the meat Killian was dangling in front of her, the blood pounding in her ears as she used her other hand to grip the girth of him just under his tip.

Killian felt his hips shift forward in his seat, an involuntary spasm, the only reaction his body knew to her touch. He wanted her to stroke him, needed her to massage his length. What she had promised back at the restaurant was so close his balls ached. Her breath ghosted over his cock, the tip of her tongue flicking out to taste him as she held him, hot and hard and perpetually suspended in the promise of what was to come. He had to blink thrice as hard to focus his eyes on the road knowing that once her mouth encased his cock, it would be almost impossible to drive in a straight line.

“Emma, maybe we should wait until-,” Killian began, his heart hammering in his chest and the sound of his blood pounding in his ears.

“Shut up,” Emma snapped and Killian tore his eyes off the road to look at her beside him.

She was on her knees, crouched below the height of the window and hunched between the seats, her elbows resting on the only part of the seat visible beside his thigh. It twitched as his muscles contracted, his entire body as stiff as his cock was in Emma’s hands, her hands burning into his skin far hotter than his own body temperature. Emma was wet, he could smell her in the confined space of the car and it made him heady, his palms a little sweaty against the smooth surface of the wheel.

Killian had no idea what had gotten into Emma but he was not about to complain. Very few people had the bravery to tell an Alpha to shut up, and under normal circumstances the hormones raging through Killian’s body would have had him seeing red in no time, but the tone in Emma’s voice, insistent and desperate, had him hardening in her grip. She was ravenous and did something to him that he couldn’t explain. His body cried out for her, especially now he knew what it felt like to knot her, and one of his hands slipped off the wheel and smoothed over her back in gentle encouragement. Very little time passed between Killian touching her and Emma finally wrapping her lips around his length and all he could do was gasp in final, hot, wet relief and force his eyes to stay open whilst he drove through a foggy, sex hazed vision.

“Oh,” Killian gasped on an inward breath, his knuckles turning white with how hard he was gripping the wheel. “Bloody, Jesus, fuck,” he grunted when he felt Emma smirk against his length, her tongue lavishing over a particularly prominent vein that had swollen in her mouth as her hands went to work on the base of his shaft. With a hum, Emma let her hand drift into the opening of his fly, aching to have more of him in her grasp, her fingertips barely touching the bulb of his knot that was wrapped up in her come soaked panties.

Emma lifted her head, releasing him with a pop and hungrily licking her lips as she salivated over the taste of him in her mouth. Her hands went to work where her mouth had been, shifting up and down his cock and making Killian growl in frustration.

“So that’s where you put them,” Emma grinned triumphantly.

She hadn’t expected to find her underwear in his pants but it gave her a huge sense of gratification to find them there. She had never felt so powerful, so insanely and irrevocably turned on before. Her life had given her few chances to be the aggressor during sex, but Emma was a woman who knew what she wanted, if nothing else. Killian Jones was what she wanted, and she didn’t even wait for his reply before sealing her lips around his cock and stealing his breath once more.

Emma’s head bobbed up and down, spit dribbling out of her mouth and over her knuckles as she went down and her tongue slurping over his skin as she eased back up. Killian tried as hard as he could to focus on the road ahead of him, but thankfully the traffic was minimal, encouraging him to speed and run at least two red lights on their way to Emma’s apartment where he skidded to a stop in her parking spot. He had an overwhelming need to come, to fuck Emma’s mouth until his knot popped out of his body and he’d encourage her to extend his pleasure by sucking him some more. The mere thought had his fingertips digging into the curve of her behind, the only intimate part of her he could reach from his position.

But reality held him back. There was no way he wouldn’t draw attention by getting out of a car in broad daylight with an erection so massive, and as if Emma could read his mind, she doubled her efforts. Her movements sped up and Killian could feel his tip bumping the back of her throat, the muscles there contracting around him and pulling him in even deeper. At one point, Emma gagged a little and Killian wasn’t sure how much longer he would last under her assault. She hummed in appreciation, a soft whimper of pleasure slipping from her mouth between breaths as her fingers toyed with the smooth skin of Killian’s balls and caused another involuntary buck of his hips.

“You’re so close,” she purred, letting him slip from her mouth and not giving him a second before licking him from a straining knot bulb to tip. “Let go, Killian. Let me take care of you.”

“Oh, fuck, Emma,” he whimpered, legs shaking as he felt the unmistakeable thrum of his climax. “Suck it,” he growled and encouraged her to take him in her mouth once more with a gentle touch to the back of her head. His fingers toyed with her braid and his inner animal couldn’t be contained anymore. “I’m going to come so hard for you. Fill up the back of your throat like you need.”

An audible whine vibrated from Emma’s throat, a plea for what only Killian could give her. She arched her back, desperate for his touch where she needed him the most, her body language so incredibly wanton that Killian had no hope in holding off his orgasm. What he hadn’t expected was her skill, the way she swallowed him down like she had been made specifically for him, her throat relaxing around him as she crammed his entire cock into her mouth. Her tongue laved around his knot bulb, a soft wetness that, before he had time to stop it, had his knot popping from his body and his euphoria washing over him.

The world began to spin and Killian’s leg spasmed, his foot pushing so hard against the floor that he thought he might punch a hole right through the bottom of his car. He was coming, and he was coming harder than he had ever come from oral before. An Alpha’s place was to make his partner happy and so he had rarely been on the receiving end of a blow job, and they had never felt as good as the one Emma was giving him. It left him shaking and he held her face to his crotch, one hand around her jaw and her braid twisted around the other. When Emma gagged on his come, he tried to free her airway by pulling out, but Emma wouldn’t let him go, greedily swallowing every last drop of his load with a satisfying gulp.

“Wow,” Killian gasped, scrubbing his hands over his face in disbelief of his bodily reaction to Emma’s talents. “I...you...wow,” he giggled, ignoring the discomfort of his exposed knot and the hotness in his groin.

“You popped your knot,” Emma smirked gleefully, stroking her fingers over his still hard length and enjoying the way he twitched from her touch.

“I swear I didn’t mean to,” Killian laughed. “You were just...” he began but Emma’s proud grin stole his thought. “Just wow.”

“You need to work on your compliments,” Emma nodded with a raised eyebrow.

“Aye, love,” he agreed with a chuckle. “I have plenty of time to think that over whilst I wait for my knot to recede.” He blushed a little and Emma watched as he adorably scratched the patch of skin behind his ear.

“I’m sorry,” Emma offered sympathetically. She took his hand in hers, giving his fingers a little squeeze to emphasize her apology.

“Don’t be, love,” Killian assured her, interlocking their fingers. “It’s only uncomfortable for an hour or so,” he teased, lifting their hands and pressing a kiss to the back of her knuckles.

“Plenty of time then,” Emma smirked playfully.

“For what, love?” Killian asked her with a narrowed stare.

She leaned in close, gripping his hand tighter and holding it to her bosom. “For us to talk about later,” she whispered in his ear, her words making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. “When we see just how good that outfit looks on the bedroom floor.”

#A/B/O #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o fic #alpha!killian #emma swan #cs fic #cs au #omegaverse #graham humbert #will scarlet #liam jones #the contract #ch 5

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imagine-loki · 4 years

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strangers

TITLE: strangers CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 1/? AUTHOR: hiddlemediddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine being a psychologist set to question Loki during his incarceration in Stark Tower. Initially, he scoffs at the prospect of a ‘psychological examination’. However, Loki grows quite attached to you and complies to each and every programme you have in store for him. RATING: MATURE NOTES/WARNINGS: Hullo! The only warning I can give is that my wonderful self has had her hormones flying around. Time to channel them into something useful.. such as writing some Loki.. I’m going to stuff the whole Y/N and Y/L/N faff and just give you a name. Also, it’ll be less of a psychologist but more of a counsellor - but a bit of both really. With regards to POV, I want to say that despite the fact that I use ‘she/her’ pronouns to refer to the character, I want it to be as gender neutral as possible to accommodate to you all, though I am conscious that the vast majority of you will be female readers. I have written from a male perspective before for Loki as I am very passionate about more LGBT representation in writing, but this particular fic will be she/her despite the second person 'you’ narration. Please do message me (I’m hiddlemediddles) if you have any queries - I love messaging you guys and it makes me so happy to know there are beings out there in this chaotic world who have the time to read my Loki fantasies… !! Hope that all agrees. Brilliant - let’s gooo! - The task seemed simple enough. Redeem an evil mastermind from continuing to think like an evil mastermind. You had done it countless times before, with men that were.. admittedly… a lot less problematic than this one. This Loki that you had been assigned was a tough one. Not only that, but he was an alien. Or a 'god’, as these spies liked to emphasise that he was. God or alien, it didn’t matter too much. A patient was a patient.

But this patient was going to be a tricky one. He had attacked New York on a whim with an army of extraterrestrial beings, murdered countless people in that attack.. all under the control of what they explained to be something called an 'infinity stone’. A stone which had taken control of the man’s mind and driven him close to the brink of sheer insanity. Now these stones were all destroyed before some purple alien got them, this Loki was experiencing the aftermath of that stone. They said he was still deranged, but a lot less deranged than what he had been a month ago. That was at least partly uplifting. “Think you’re up to the task?” Nick Fury asked. “Yes. As ever.” You said, lamenting how strong they had made your tea. Being British, these things were of paramount importance after all. “It’s settled then. We will inform Loki that he is to see a counsellor slash psychologist tomorrow morning at 11am. Shall we call it.. an introduction?” “Yes, if you like. But how will this all be conducted? Without me being in danger of a premature death?” “He will still be contained in the glass cage. The one designed for the Hulk. You will be on a chair on the other side of the glass. You will be able to hear each other perfectly well. We will be observing the exchanges as they are held in this area. In the future, we hope that it can resemble something more.. relaxed. If we are all in agreement that he has improved during this.. rehabilitation, let’s say… then the cage will no longer be necessary.” “Right. Brilliant. I suppose it all depends now on whether he’ll cooperate.” “Miss. Croft, you are one of the most qualified people of the job. Isn’t it in your expertise to prompt cooperation?” he asked sceptically. You smiled at Fury as though he were an old friend. “No need for formalities. Call me Robin, don’t bother with the Miss. Croft rubbish. And I don’t prompt cooperation. It’s more like.. inviting it. Some people close off, others respond. Human nature is a bit like that, Mr. Fury.” With everything settled, you left a half full cup of tea at the meeting table of Stark Tower and proceeded to shake the hands of multiple men. Mental note: hand sanitise. Immediately. “Robin Croft. A pleasure to have met you.” “Yes. You too, thank you. See you soon.” You said hurriedly. Perhaps a bit too hurriedly. You were desperate to get back to your apartment and shaking all of these hands was driving you towards becoming infuriated by the whole situation. Who needed an entire board of governors to discuss Loki’s rehabilitation anyway? They did, apparently. At last, the breeze of the autumn air ruffled your hair as you stepped out of the stuffy Stark building. Thank goodness. Realising that the apartment wasn’t too far to walk, you abandoned the idea of a taxi. Very expensive and often (but not always, thankfully) driven by a misogynist ready to make comments about women wearing suits. You adjusted the lapels on your own light blue suit as you made my way to your apartment. Thankfully, heels hadn’t been on the menu today. Flats. The most wonderful sensation to the feet. After having met with multiple clients, you felt just about ready to collapse into bed. Hot chocolate and a book first. Something daring, adventurous. Anything to spark the flame, even if it was fictional. Admittedly, you revelled in reading dark, mysterious heroines with troubled pasts. Even better if they were women. But they were often men, which was also wonderful. Women, men, non-binary. It was all wonderful. As long as they were mysterious, dark pasts and had a sharp jaw. That sharp jaw.. You hauled myself up the stairs, feeling like going in the lift would be some kind of capitulation. Once you made the first flight, you cursed myself for being so foolish. The lift would have done perfectly. Ah well. Soon enough, the slippers were on and the book was out. The hot chocolate nearby too, of course. Just how you loved it. Just as you had lamented Stark Tower’s attempt at making a cup of tea, you felt the pangs of dejection at your lack of foresight. The bloody wine. You had completely forgotten to pick up a bottle - the sequel to the hot chocolate. Another night. You flicked open the page with the bookmark. It would continue from that part in the story when the two lovers are separated for some annoying reason and the sexual tension is rife. You sighed as you read the detailed descriptions of yearning, longing, sexual frustration. You read the descriptions and felt no affinity to them at all. Of course, you could relate to the sexual frustration, but there was none in your life at the moment. You were satisfied. Heaven forbid that a man or woman came and ruffled this contentment. You had hoped the days of lusting after human beings had passed. But it never does pass. You hoped earnestly that whoever was to come and screw up your life by your falling desperately in love with them was not coming soon. Thankfully, the job was rather straightforward (mostly). No strings attached, just bringing human beings back to the world where they belonged and into society again. Nothing more, nothing less. Socially. things were nice. A few nights out every now and then with friends, but nobody had caught your eye in a long time. It didn’t matter as you enjoyed your own company far too much to let it go so easily. So willingly.. or unwillingly. The story progressed. The man was being… the man.. by withholding some essential piece of information that the woman would become frustrated about. I groaned at the predictability. Couldn’t they just have sex already? Perhaps you were sexually frustrated after all. Hmm.. one night stand. But how the hell will you schedule that in now with that new client? That.. Loki. You sighed. A new client that will likely be the most demanding of them all. But you weren’t a world expert psychologist for nothing. Years upon years of work had led to this. Led to a branch of the government, the spy service of all places, having employed you as the gateway to Loki’s redemption. How hard could it be? A few meetings and he’ll be on his feet. On his feet and walking amongst the people of earth. A valued member of society. At least, that was the goal. ** Waking up bright and early, you were gathering the questions you had prepared for the man. Right.. 11am. Ready. Ready to face a murderer, madman.. Asgardian? Well, a madman controlled by a.. stone. A magical stone. You prided yourself on your punctuality and made it at Stark Tower for quarter to eleven. Fury led you towards the door which would take you directly to Loki inside his glass cage. A shiver rippled across your spine. Whether it was excitement or fear, you weren’t sure. Either way, it was definitely anticipation. Just before 11, Fury let you in. “Good luck.” he said. The doors opened. x

#Loki #Angst #Submitted fic #submission #strangers #chapter 1 #hiddlemediddles

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fightevilandthengetblownup · 3 years

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FIC: Tis The Damn Season IV

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The crowds that moved steadily through the glamourous and well-known department store parted like the sea before her, the sound of her sparkling heels clicking on the tile floor bouncing around the somehow perfectly filled space, the determined and confident sound of a seasoned shopper and her entourage behind her as the path cleared before her. The Madison Avenue department store was the perfect little treat after such a perfect start to the day, or at least it was in Shada's mind.

"Brother knows nothing," she chirped over her shoulder as she led the pair of gawking blondes behind her past the decorative fountain filled with crystal balls hung from the tall ceilings in a mimic of water and up the marble tiles stairs before her. Shada glanced behind her as she had to tug each of the other women's hands to get them moving rather than looking at the glistening splendour around them. "He would freak at the idea we've just popped over here for a spot of shopping, he's so worried all the time that he doesn't have enough fun with what he can do."

Jo made a noise that Shada didn't like the sound of, somewhere between disapproval and agreement in equal measure, that got a perfectly groomed brow risen in response to it as the brunette looked over her shoulder at the pair behind her.

“You disagree, cupcake?” “...Yes.” “So he doesn’t think that we shouldn’t use powers for fun?” “I… Didn’t say that.” “That’s what I thought.”

Shada smirked to herself as she turned back to the path she was leading through past the counters of perfume and make-up that they could go through on their way out, and instead to the elegant double rows of circling stairs that lead up through the centre of the building to each floor. She loved looking up at the sparkling chandelier that dripped down through the centre and sent rainbows of refracted light dancing about the space. It was so beautiful, and she loved being at the centre of such a beautiful thing.

“Where are we going first, big sister?” Ombre asked quietly, her voice softer than if they were somewhere the blonde was familiar with. It was almost as quiet as their natural voices would be, and Shada paused at the base of the stairs to reach out and squeeze her little sister’s hand. The younger shadow was still clearly uncomfortable in such busy and clearly human spaces, but they’d work on that until she was as into the whole experience as Shada was herself. Ombre’s eyes were big, wide and blue looking up into the sparkling light and taking in just how many floors the stairs spiraled up through. “Oh it’s so big!”

“It has to be big, Ombre, cause there are so many designers!” Shada couldn’t help the high pitch of excitement that ran through her words, and blushed slightly at the bemused look she could see coming from the other blonde at her clear enjoyment. “We’re going up a few floors now, and maybe we’ll have lunch on the sixth floor for big si- for Jo, and we can go to the salon on the top floor too?”

“I am so going to have to use one of my other cards for this, aren’t I?” The resigned but amused grin on Jo’s lips made Shada feel better about her slip and the casual informality of her plans for the day, before she laughed along with both other blondes as they all started up the stairs.

Shada gestured them off as they reached the third floor and let out a giggle as she spotted so many beautiful things all around. There was anything and everything gorgeous all around them - the women’s designer department was just like a candy store for her. And seemingly for her younger sister, as the youngest let out an extremely high pitched noise and ran straight towards a display of soft pastel pinks in lace, tulle and silk that displayed three very beautiful dresses; ranging from a sun dress with ruffles but nothing too extravagant, to a full on ball gown all tiered together. Shada smiled before grinning wider when she found her hand being grabbed by the other blonde and tugging her towards their little sister who was staring in wonder. This was exactly how the day should go.

As a store clerk came towards the trio, Shada smirked widely and declared to the snooty looking woman who was looking at the group in confusion. She could hear the woman’s thoughts easily - wondering at the odd assortment the three of them made. Shada herself was clearly dressed and suited to the occasion in her elegant Prada dress from that very season and the very obviously Burberry fitted black coat she had on all the way down to her pop of colorful sparkly red-bottomed shoes. The store clerk could see in her exactly the kind of shopped the woman would love to follow around as personal-shopper and the commission it would come with. Though the clerk was clearly thinking that she could making a killing off of Shada, the uncertain glances that took in the two blondes - one in a frilly, lacey and ruffled skirt and white lacey top paired and exaggerated by the layers of petticoats beneath, the bows tied around both her pigtail-plaits and the white tights and Mary Janes; the other in a pair of sturdy black cowboy boots that had clearly been worn in with her dark wash jeans tucked in, with a black t-shirt that looked quite a few sizes too large and swimming in a navy hoodie that definitely wasn’t from the women’s department and was clearly dressed for function and warmth over fashion. The three of them made a confusing contradiction for the lady, and Shada smirked even wider as she shifted her bag higher on her shoulder. Berkin bag, bingo! The woman’s thoughts were so easy to see run across her face as an indulgent look crossed her face.

“Ladies, welcome! How can I help you today?” The clerk’s voice was equal measures friendly and condescending - exactly the type of tone rich old ladies liked to hear so that they could put the ‘little upstart’ into her place before dropping thousands of dollars and enjoying making the assistant feel small, when really all they were doing was paying for her own shopping spree later. “Were we looking for anything in particular?”

“Oh no, we’re here for anything and everything.” Shada took over the interaction, her own voice sliding carefully into a snooty tone as she looked about the space. Glancing towards her sister, she smiled slightly to see how still enamoured the younger was staring at the sundress. “First off, we want that dress in a dressing room out back in my sister’s size. We’ll want three rooms together, I’m sure that will be easy to accommodate?”

“Of course! I’ll get that set up right for you while you ladies peruse. I’ll be right back.” The clerk quickly nodded, taking a quick glance at the still staring blonde before dashing away to get started - like candy from a baby! The thought was the last thing Shada bothered to pick up from her as she ran off through the racks of clothes.

Turning back to the two of them, Shada smiled shyly at Jo’s raised brow at her antics and tone, before moving to Ombre’s side. “Hey, they’re getting that dress out back for you to try on. Want to go see what else they have?”

The blonde pigtails bounced rapidly as Ombre smiled widely and nodded repeatedly, before she started wandering down the nearest aisle that had a very predominant pastel color theme to it.

“So… We’ll get her sorted with some first, then look for you?” Jo asked quietly coming up and threading her arm through Shada’s and tugging her to follow behind the bounding and excitable movements of the other.

Shada nodded, smiling widely as another clerk popped out of no where and started following the perky blonde around the few rows. “Yep! And then we look for you!”

“Me? Oh no, nothing here is my style.” “That’s a downright lie, cupcake-” “No no, I really don’t need anything.” “Where do you think I managed to find that dress last year? I’m sure we’ll find something for you too.”

The blush on the other’s face brought a bigger grin to her own face; before both their attention was pulled to where Ombre was holding up a sugarysweet looking strapless dress for their review. The pair equally exclaimed over the prettiness, and continued moving through the racks showing off a whole array of interesting designs and pieces for the other.

After a good half an hour and the two clerks running back and forth from them to the dressing room about ten times laddened with clothes, Shada couldn’t help but direct them towards the rows of black, grey, purple and shiny choices that suited her style more. And afterwards they slowly circled the full floor with a more eclectic array of clothes being pulled out and chosen by the final member of their group to try on. It was well into the late morning by the time the trio, full of giggles and exclamations and more than a few cups of coffee brought to them from the cafe a few stores up, were ushered back to the dressing room area to try on their various choices.

It was easier for them each to try on an outfit and emerge to gush over each other’s choices than for one girl to go through her selection at a time - and far more exciting, Shada found, to come out and hear gasps of happiness and praise of how lovely she looked while getting to do the same for her sister’s.

The first to exhaust her pile of clothes to try was Jo, but that was unsurprising. Shada had noted just how particular the other was as they’d moved through the racks that she was discerning and only let items she truly thought strongly about to be sent back to the dressing room. Shada had known less than half of what she’d picked out for herself would be something she genuinely wanted, where as Jo’d practically glowed with happiness and excitement over each outfit she’d tried on that radiated that happiness out to the other two in giddy waves. It was intoxicating to be near someone so honestly and innocently happy - over a pair of jeans that looked like they were poured on, or a black leather jacket with embroidery on the back, or a black lacey dress that revealed almost the entire back of the blonde when she’d spun about - and it definitely rubbed off.

Emerging from her change room in a sleek purple blouse and tight black pencil skirt with a grey supple leather jacket over the top that cut off right at her waist, Shada grinned widely at the look she got from the other woman sitting on the sette sipping her coffee. “Oh Shada, that looks so fabulous with those shoes!”

“Oh?” The brunette blinked in surprise, turning to look in the mirror and smiling to herself all over again as she noticed twisting here and there that her whole ensemble looked so well put together. “Oh! I am so wearing this out.”

“You aren’t goin’ to look at the tags?” “Why would I?”

There was a pause before the blonde let out a hearty laugh, shaking her head. “You’re right, your brother doesn’t have fun with his powers if this is what you mean.”

Shada flushed slightly pink before giggling at the wicked grin on the other’s face.

“Big sis, big sis’es!” Ombre chirped from behind her curtain before rushing out in a flurry of fluffy pink skirts to cuddle up against her older sister. “This is so pretty, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Ombre, very pretty!” “Absolutely gorgeous, Ombre.”

The perky blonde bounced a few times, before moving to talk about and energetically about how suitable and lovely Shada’s outfit looked together as well. Both shadows smiled widely at their other sister as Jo started gushing as well. And the gushing continued on from there - as each of the two shadows kept trying on their clothes over again until they’d finally exhausted all the luxurious outfits they’d put together. Shada emerged finally back in that pretty ensemble she’d put together, and Ombre wearing a new pastel blue top with her original skirt, while Jo got together their bags and looked concernedly at the pile of clothes both other’s had chosen as well as her small selection of items.

“Are we-”

“Ladies, can we please bag these up? We’re going for lunch and to get our nails done and want these packaged when we get back.” Shada cut over the other’s comments as the two sales clerks reappeared around the corner, her tone back into the same snooty, superior tone she had first off as the two women looked back and forth between one another. “My sister and I are wearing these choices - and our big sister will be taking that jacket with us now. That is all alright, correct?”

There was a moment before one of them ran over with a pair of scissors and snipped off gently the tags from Shada’s ensemble, Ombre’s top and also the black swing jacket Jo had fallen in love with and had had thrown over her lap as she waited. The other assistant quickly moved to pick up all the other chosen clothes and hang them up upon a cleared clothes rack to be properly packed and prepared for when they returned. There wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation or query for any kind of payment from either woman as the trio headed from the change room towards the spiral staircase and the blonde pair followed Shada up the next three flights to the cafe overlooking the busy spring streets outside.

Shada smiled widely as all three found themselves settling in and as they slowly made their choices for lunch and laughed together talking over the experience and promised to do more later. There was their nails in the salon one floor up to be done; and shoes and handbags; and all kinds of accessories; and an entire section of lacey intimates that Jo had sneakily pointed out on their way up to lunch. It was exactly the kind of day that she’d been craving for, and splitting a thin crust pizza covered in healthy vegetables with very little cheesy grease like any lesser pizza would and a bright spring salad, she couldn’t help but hope they’d get to enjoy many more like it in future.

Looking over the bright smiles on both her sisters’ faces as Jo teased Ombre over her confusion that asparagus wasn’t some kind of utensil poking out of the salad - she knew this would definitely happen again, and more regularly if she had her way. And Shada always got her way, after all.

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#cc #ca #shadapov

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