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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year

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The Lonely Hearts Club: Part Two

Summary: Full Story! Breaking up with Andrew Barber is hard to do. You of all people should know, considering you just tried. Now what? Read Part One.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Angst, Discussions of Break-ups, Fun with Exes, Jealousy, Andy Being a Menace, Confident Reader, Eventual Smut, Cursing, Expect Additional Future Warnings, Minors DNI

A/N: Dedicated to @atkissoflife, @that-one-anxious-mango, and @piscesmermaidprincess. This multi-part fic features a combination of requests from the likes of @writer84, @lexivass, @moejdaw, and several others. It is also, part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

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February 15th - 12:25am - Los Angeles, CA

Wow. Just...wow.

You stare down at your phone as you wait for the bartender to bring you your check. While you had initially been prepared for Andy to be upset over your note, as well as your pretty abrupt departure, you certainly hadn't expected this.

If anything, he seemed almost...unbothered. By all of it. Granted, it was sometimes hard to gauge a person's tone via text. But you'd also been in a relationship with the man for the better part of six freaking months! At this point, one could argue that you were practically fluent in Andrew Barber and all of his fucking moods.

The guy was up to something, without a doubt. Which meant that you were now officially on high alert. Because your man - your ex - had never been the type to play fair.

Especially where you were concerned. You should've known that it was gonna take a hell of a lot more than a handwritten letter and a box of artisanal muffins to knock some sense into his stubborn ass.

"Argh! You are such a fucking ogre, Andrew!" You groan, burying your face in your hands. "Why can't you ever make things easy?"

The next time you look up it's to see the bartender returning with your credit card. She goes to hand it over, only for you to interrupt her mid-sentence.

What was her name again? You could've sworn it started with a "D".

"Sorry, I know I said I was ready to close out. But since men are stupid, I think I'm gonna need another margarita. Quite possibly two."

Delta gives you a sympathetic nod before pocketing your card once more. "You got it, sweetie. Still want sugar instead of salt?"

"Yes, please." You mumble, reminding yourself that it was okay to feel annoyed. Because you were. This was supposed to be your time, damn it. You deserved to take some space for yourself!

Even if it meant sitting alone at a hotel bar, missing the one person you loved more than anything, the day after motherfucking Valentine's Day. Cheers, bitches.

___

Two Weeks Later – Somewhere in Downtown Boston

Andrew Barber stares blankly at his computer screen, mindlessly tapping his index finger against his temple as a fresh wave of anger courses through his veins.

He’d been so good the last two weeks. So patient and understanding. He’d given you your space, just like you’d asked. Never intruding with the exception of the text he shot off that night.

Even when he’d come across your latest Instagram post from a few days ago showing off your apparent date with another man. Some pretentious looking fucker who went by Russell Cromwell. You two had looked real cozy while sharing a plate full of Birria tacos. And then you’d posed outside of the restaurant with your arms wrapped around his waist.

But the real kicker had been the last photo in the carousel. The one where you’d kissed him on the cheek – when you’d done the “knee thing” that actresses used to do in those old black and white movies you loved to watch so much.

Oh yeah. The two of you would be having a discussion about that one real soon. His wayward Baby Girl could count on that shit.

Honestly, you had no idea how hard falling back had been for him. It had been a real struggle. Because at his core, Andrew Barber was a man of action. He was well-known for his cunning and mental prowess. This was a man who had graduated at the top of his class, who had then gone on to become the youngest District Attorney in the city of Boston’s history.

And in times of crisis, he was someone you could count on to remain calm and collected while you worked towards a solution. Nothing could shake him, save for the trial and media circus that had briefly surrounded his late son.

After that particular tragedy, Andy had resigned himself to being alone. Forever. He often tried to convince himself that he preferred it that way. Andrew Barber didn’t do love. Not after what happened with his ex-wife, Laurie. He was better off living a life of no commitment.

Even if it meant a lot of lonely nights filled with a seemingly endless revolving door of meaningless one-night stands.

And then he’d met you.

Yes, you.

The woman who had somehow, against all odds, brought magic back into his life. Your laugh, your smile, your very presence – it colored his whole goddamn world. He told you that all of the time, and yet it was almost as if you didn’t believe him.

At first, he was convinced that you were too good to be true. Although he’d been quickly dispelled of that notion when you’d had the balls to walk out on him during your very first date. It’s quite possible that he’d fallen for you right then – because you were the type of woman who knew her worth.

By then, Andy had become convinced that you were a gift from the universe. The way he saw it, after everything he’d been through, he was owed you. You were the woman of his dreams – his very salvation – all wrapped up in a curvy little package. And when you ran that night, it called to the primal part of him that felt compelled to give chase.

Just like now.

But what you had yet to understand was that, once a man like Andrew Barber had deemed you his forever, there was no going back. There was no letting you go. No means of escape.

At most, he’d been granted you a temporary reprieve. You both needed time to assess the situation, survey the damage, and then calculate your next move.

And sweetness, you’d already played your hand when you’d left that little note skipped town under the pretense of taking a fucking business trip.

Fine. Now it was on him. And while you still held most of the cards, that certainly didn’t mean that Andrew Barber was walking around without an ace or two in his back pocket. And you had better believe that he was more than ready to play his own.

But first…he needed some fucking coffee. And lucky for him, he knew just where he could find the perfect cup – shot of chocolate, dash of cinnamon, hold the whip.

___

Forty Minutes Later – Monarch Media Group (20 Minutes Outside Downtown Boston)

You lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. For the life of you, you simply couldn’t seem to focus today. Or any other day for the matter.

Even though it had been almost a week since you’d returned from your trip to L.A., you still felt just as conflicted about things with Andrew Barber as you did before you’d left. And not only that, but you also found yourself feeling on edge about the entire situation.

Because after your brief text exchange the morning of February 15th, he’d left you alone. The most impatient man you’d ever encountered this side of Boston had actually found it within himself to respect your wishes.

No calls. No texts. No emails. Not even so much as a fucking smoke signal.

And while part of you was pleased with that particular development, there was no denying the fact that you missed your Big Man.

You could be woman enough to admit it. You missed the hell out the handsome, grumpy-faced district attorney who, up until recently, had been a major mainstay in your life. But after some serious soul searching and a generous amount of tequila, you’d come to the conclusion that it was important for you to get your mind right before moving forward with anything.

You owed it to yourself to figure out who you were outside of your relationship with Andy – needed it even. Because that man was a force to be reckoned with. He could be so dominant sometimes, his personality so completely all-consuming that it was easy to lose yourself in him.

To allow yourself to become so entirely eclipsed by his brilliant shadow. Which is something that could absolutely happen the moment you stopped paying attention to your own wants, and needs, and desires.

And if that ever were to happen, part of you wondered whether or not you would be able to find your way back. Honestly, you had no idea.

Because after all of this, if you chose to be with him…it would mean that you were all-in. There was no other option with him.

That beautifully stubborn man didn’t have a lower setting.

However, the last thing you’d ever expected was for Mr. Andrew “My Way or the Highway” Barber to go quietly into that good night. Well, suppose you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Because if anything he could very well be planning–

Your inner musings are interrupted by Anya, your favorite receptionist at Monarch Media Group. Granted, she was also the only receptionist at the company you’d worked for over the last several years, but that was neither here nor there.

Anya gives you a knowing look before taking a seat on the edge of your desk. “Hi, friend.” She lightly pokes your shoulder. “How ya doin?”

“I’m okay.” You blow out a breath and then decide to exit out of your Outlook. “What’s up?”

“Oh…nothing much.” You watch as your friend and coworker helps herself to a piece of chocolate sitting in a nearby dish.

“Okay.”

“I just stopped by to tell you that your coffee has arrived.” She dutifully unwraps it before popping it in her mouth.

“What?”

You hadn’t ordered any coffee. You didn’t usually even drink the stuff this late in the day. Unless…

“Yep. And just so happens, it was hand-delivered by the handsomest door-dasher I ever did see.” Anya pokes your shoulder again. “I would’ve accepted it on your behalf, but the guy insists on giving it to you himself. Probably angling for a tip if you ask me.” She throws you a conspiratorial wink for good measure.

Speak of the devil. Hello, Mr. Andrew “Check Out My Shit Timing” Barber.

“Ugh.” You bury your head in your hands to muffle your cry of frustration. “Can you please just tell him I’m not here?”

“I’m afraid I already let that cat out of the bag. But by the look on your face and the way you’re rocking back and forth like a human pinball, I take it I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No!”

“Did you and Andy like…break up…or something?” Anya pauses as she reaches for another piece of candy, her hand hovering in mid-air.

No, Anya. I always feel like jumping out the nearest window. I’m fucking squirrley like that.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” You wail. “It’s just…it’s just really fucking complicated, okay?”

“Gotcha. So…about the coffee…”

“I’m going. I’m going.” You stand up in a huff, wishing you knew where you put the ponytail holder that had been on your wrist just this morning. “But if he pisses me off, I’m dumping that shit on his shoes. Hot or not. I do not care.”

“Okay, but if it comes to that can you please try to do it off company property? I’m all for you handling your business, but I’m also thinking about all the paperwork I’m gonna have to do if you accidentally injure one of the city’s hottest attorneys.”

“Fuck you.” You grumble as you stalk towards the front of the office to confront the annoying asshole who also happened to be the love of your life.

“What can I say? I’m a selfish bitch.” She chirps, blowing you a kiss.

“Your words not mine. And stay the hell out of my chocolate, you mooch!” You call out as you turn the corner, fully intending to give the Boston D.A. a piece of your mind before you politely, and very firmly, shoved him out the door.

Because if that man thought that he could just waltz right into your place of business and act like he owned everything and everyone, then he was sorely mistaken. You were going to prove to him, and whoever the hell’s job it was to oversee this whole godforsaken cosmos, that you knew how to stand your ground.

The sight of him standing right there in the lobby is easily enough to temporarily rob you of all reasonable thought. His back is to you, giving you the brief opportunity to give him a thorough once-over. His tailored white dress shirt is rolled up at the sleeves, exposing his brawny forearms. But what really draws your attention are his slate gray slacks, which only serves to highlight his perfectly sculpted backside.

He looked good. Nobody deserved to look that damned good, least of all your ex-boyfriend.

Wait. Is that – is that what he was now? Is…is that how all of this worked? Fuck!

You note the lack of tension in his broad shoulders. All things considered, he seemed pretty relaxed. But the real question was…how long could it be expected to last?

Andy picks that moment to turn around, his bright blue eyes locking with your own as an eager grin slowly spreads its way across his handsome features. You take a steadying breath and choose to ignore it.

“Andrew.” You exhale, trying your best to appear unaffected by his presence. It was a lie, of course. But if you managed to keep this unexpected interaction short and sweet, you just might be able to pull it off. “Wh–what are you doing here?”

“Hi.” He cocks his head to the side as he drinks you in, almost as if he’s amused by your disgruntled demeanor.

“Hello.” You cross your arms over your chest, wishing that you had chosen to wear a different sweater today. Andy loved you in this color, especially because of how it paired with your particular skin tone.

“Happy Wednesday, baby.”

God, he really needed to lose that stupid smile. Otherwise, how on earth were you supposed to maintain your composure?

“Sure.”

“Brought you something.” Andy holds out one of the cups of coffee he’s carrying. “Figured you might be able to use a little pick-me-up.”

“Thanks, but I’m good.” You tell him with a shake of your head.

“What? Since when?” He rears back before offering up a playful pout. “We always get coffee together on Wednesdays. It’s our thing…our little afternoon delight.” This time you’re treated to a wink.

“Shh!” You hiss, bridging the distance between your bodies to slap a hand across his mouth. “Don’t say that!”

The last thing you needed was someone to overhear that and think you two used to sneak away sometimes in the afternoon to…to well…you know. Some of the people you worked with possessed very vivid imaginations.

And besides, that whole afternoon delight business had only happened once or twice. Okay, quite possibly four and a half times – and then one more after that.

Amusement sparkles in his gaze as he stares you down. And then you feel the faint flick of his tongue brush across your palm. When you don’t react he does it again, this time following it up with an exaggerated groan.

You immediately jerk your hand away as if you’ve just been burned. Knowing that things were only bound to get worse, you snatch one of the coffees before grabbing his arm and dragging him outside and into the unseasonably warm weather.

Thank goodness for small favors.

The smell of spring was definitely in the air these days, but all you can focus on is the sound of Andy’s laughter trailing behind you. Frankly, it’s enough to set your teeth on edge. Even still, he allows you to lead him down the street. At some point there’s a slight shift that results in your relinquishing his arm so that he can lace his fingers through yours.

But you'll allow it if it means that he’ll behave for as long as it takes to make it to your destination. Which just so happens to be an empty bench located at the edge of a nearby park.

To his credit, the attractive buttface at your side doesn’t say anything during your impromptu power walk, but he also doesn’t need to. Because after two long weeks without you, the man was probably venturing into serious touch-starved territory.

You knew it. And so did he. So part of you didn’t see the harm in giving him this one, small thing.

Relief fills you when you finally reach the bench. Of course Andy sits first before pulling you down with him – but thankfully not onto his lap. Although you’re positive that the thought was there.

Eventually he lets go of your hand. Unsure of what else to do, you finally take a sip of your coffee. The rich, slightly bitter flavor of chocolate and mocha bursts onto your tongue, followed immediately by a quick hint of cinnamon.

Mm. A perfect cup.

“I’ve missed you, baby girl.” Andy’s large, lightly calloused hand cups your face – the roughened pad of his thumb caressing the curve of your cheek. “It hasn’t been a very fun couple of weeks.”

“I know.” You whisper as you lean into his touch and your eyes flutter closed. Perhaps you were just as starved for affection as he was. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you miss me?” His tone is gruff, but there’s no mistaking the emotion behind his words. Or the pain in his eyes for that matter.

“I did, Andy.” So much.

“But you still left. Tried to break up with me before hopping on a plane and running off all the way to L.A. to share some chips and queso with good ol’ Rusty.” Your eyes fly open as Andy’s hand drops away. “Or did I read that wrong?”

How the fuck had he known where you where? You hadn’t included anything about your intended destination in your letter…

“I saw it on your Instagram, in case you were wondering. Was actually able to use that stupid account you set up for me after all.” His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he narrows his gaze, trying to read your expression. “Couldn’t really get much else, although I enjoyed those pics of you at the beach.”

“It was a work trip.” You remind him, suddenly feeling defensive. “And Russell is an old friend, nothing more.”

“Hm.” Andy quirks an annoyed brow. “Are we talking about the kind of friend who also accompanies you to the beach so you can show off your brand new bikini? Not that I’m complaining any about that gorgeous, sunkissed glow you’ve got going on, princess.”

His big body is certainly tense, but there’s no ignoring the feral gleam in his eyes. Almost as if he’s dying to undress you and spend the next several hours checking you for tan lines.

And he would, too. It’s not like it would be the first time.

“I went alone. Russell stayed behind for that one.” You roll your eyes at the sight of his nostrils flaring. “Jesus Christ, dude! I know you may not believe that I’m a big girl, but I am. And if I wanna go hang out at the beach by myself, then that’s exactly what I’m gonna do!”

Which was exactly what the fuck you’d done. And it had been positively marvelous.

“Fine.” He grunts, raising his palm towards the heavens. “God forgive me for having the sense to worry about my girl, especially since the last time I checked, she still couldn’t swim for shit.”

“Whatever, Andrew. This girl does whatever the hell she wants now, so you had better get used to it.” Your mouth is set in a thin, firm line while you silently dare him to disagree.

“I’m not quite sure how that’s different from any other day with you, but alright.” Andy tries to calm himself by playing with a stray curl that’s fallen free from your bun. “You’re still mine, sweetness. Even when you insist on being a brat. Or did you somehow forget that part?”

You swat at his hand instead of responding, hating that steady feeling of warmth that was currently pooling in your belly.

“Did you?”

You make a show of ignoring him in favor of enjoying what was left of your coffee.

“You know, they say that sometimes silence speaks louder than words, baby girl.” You find yourself resisting the urge to clench your thighs together at the sound of the dark chuckle that rumbles through his chest. “It’s alright, though. Guess I��ll just have to remind you again once we get past this little wall you’re trying to put up between us.”

He gifts you with a flash of his pearly white teeth. Andrew Barber was the type of man who would only let you get away with so much before he put his foot down. And you would do well to remember that.

“Pretty sure you meant to say “actions”, jackass.” Apparently he finds your acerbic wit funny as well.

“Eh, I’ve heard it both ways.” Andy shrugs before going back to toying with your curls. “But I think you should know that I’m not very happy with you, baby. And I’m trying to be patient here, but it’s kinda difficult when I can’t even get you to talk to me.”

“I was going to call you…” That wasn’t a lie. You had just been trying to drum up the mental fortitude you knew it would take to pick up the phone and actually dial his number. Sometimes, dealing with Andrew Barber could require some serious patience.

“Were you now?” He doesn’t believe you. You can hear it in his voice.

“I was.”

“Okay, then have dinner with me tonight.” He releases your curl, watching the way it bounces as it springs free.

“Andy.” You let out an exhausted sigh.

“Meet me at my place. I’ll swing by Imperial Wok and pick up a few of your favorites so we can eat. And then we can talk in a quiet, private setting without any interruptions. How does that sound, princess?”

“Wonderful.” The word slips out before you can catch it. “But I–I can’t.”

Andrew Barber’s excited smile dies on his lips the moment that phrase reaches his ears and registers in his brain. As much as you hated to admit it, being alone with this man wasn’t a very good idea right now – especially behind closed doors.

Because while you’d never seen the man in court, you’d definitely heard plenty of stories about his ruthlessness. And you knew firsthand just how persistent he could be when he was determined to get his way.

When Andy wanted something, he didn’t stop until he got it. Not only was he relentless, but he also wasn’t above using every tool at his disposal – including sex – if it meant having you back in his life. It wouldn’t matter all that much to him how it came about.

The same way he wouldn’t care if whether or not your desired reconciliation only happened because he’d lured you into his bed before fucking you back into submission.

“The fu–why the hell not?” He growls, his hand grips the arm of the wooden bench so hard his knuckles go white.

“Because I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” The pronounced tick in his jaw makes it clear that he’s beyond frustrated by your refusal.

Unfortunately, that was too damned bad! By the time this was all said and done, your handsome ogre was going to have mastered the art of having some goddamned patience. At least you hoped that would be the case…

“Both.” You offer your Big Man a small apologetic smile as you rise from your seat. “Let’s plan for sometime next week. Maybe we can shoot for Monday. I’ll, uh, send you a text or something and we can find a place to meet. But I really need to get back to work now.”

Andy stares at you for what feels like a full minute as his impressive brain works overtime to figure out his next move. And then he stands up before taking your empty cup and discarding them both in a nearby trash bin.

“Alright.” He mutters with a nod in your direction. “I guess I’ll just have to wait for your message then. Now, let’s get you back to your office.” A lump forms in your throat when he wraps a muscled arm around your shoulders as you two begin walking back the way you came.

Fuck, you really hated this shit. But if this relationship was ever going to have a chance of working, you had to continue standing your ground. Even though it hurt like hell.

“I, um...I know you said that we probably won’t be able to sit down and talk until next week. And I suppose I can understand where you’re coming from with that, but while I have you now…” He lightly coughs into his elbow.

You glance up at your hotshot attorney, trying to figure out where he was going with this so that you could potentially cut him off at the pass.

“I at least wanted to say “thank you” in person for still agreeing to help Lydia with the charity gala this Saturday. I’m sure that it wasn’t an easy decision for you, especially given how things have been between us lately. But I really do appreciate it. And, frankly, I’m sure the kids at St. Augustine’s do too.”

You feel the blood drain from your face as the reminder of this weekend’s event all-but smacks in the face. “Shit!” You hiss, pulling away from Andy as you reach your building. “It’s this Saturday? Are you sure?”

“I am.” He confirms, his eyes filled with surprise. “I just spoke with Lydia yesterday when I–”

“Fuck!” You exclaim as your hands fly to your hips, uncaring that you just interrupted whatever it was he was about to say.

In all of the chaos, you’d completely forgotten that you had agreed to help the wife of one of Andy’s colleagues with her annual charity ball. Starting by arriving at the hotel early Saturday morning to aid in the event setup, before heading up to your room to get ready for the evening's festivities.

A room that had been booked during a time when you and Andy were on much better terms.

“She did mention that she sent all of the volunteers an email a couple days ago with a list of instructions. Maybe it got buried in your inbox, baby.” He rests his hands on your biceps, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “But she is definitely expecting you and I’m afraid it’s probably too late for you to back out at this point.”

Deep down you knew he was right. And quite honestly, you wouldn’t even dream of doing something like this close to the actual date of the gala. But there was still the issue of having to share a hotel room with your ex.

Closing your eyes, you force yourself to take a deep breath. “I–I wouldn’t do that. I’m not that big of an asshole. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to share a room…” You trail off, hoping that he would at least be somewhat understanding of your current plight.

“Ahh.” You can see the moment when realization finally dawns. “Right. Almost forgot about that.”

No, he actually hadn’t. But since Andy didn’t feel as though there was any real need for you to know that, he was going to keep that particular tidbit to himself. Even he was capable of showing some restraint every now and again.

“Like I said…” You find yourself anxiously bouncing on your toes. “I don’t think –”

“I get it, sweetheart.”

Wait. He did? Just like that?

“You do?”

“I do.” His words are accompanied by a lopsided grin.

He didn’t. But then again, you didn’t need to know that either.

Andy’s hands leave your arms so that he can tenderly cup the sides of your face instead. “You just leave it all to me, baby girl. I’ll call the hotel and change the reservations.”

“You will?” You place your smaller hands overtop of his own. “You…you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Andy leans down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead. “And I promise to be on my best behavior Saturday night.” He gives you another kiss, which you allow. “If you want, I’ll even send over the updated confirmation info.”

“Thank you.” You murmur, wishing that you could give-in just a little more and offer up your lips for a kiss. A real one this time.

But you couldn’t afford to do that. Not even when Mr. Andrew “Give Me A Gold Star For Being Helpful” Barber was acting sweet. That would only throw everything off balance all over again.

Andy’s heated gaze drops to your mouth before he slowly pulls away. “Don’t work too hard, okay?” His husky voice sends one last tiny flutter through your belly.

“Same goes for you.” You tell him as you begin to head into the building.

“Goodbye, baby girl.”

“Goodbye, Andrew. See you Saturday.”

He waits until you’re safely inside and out of sight before turning on his heel and proceeding in the direction of his car. Oh, you’d be seeing him on Saturday alright. And he would be on his best behavior – depending on just how much patience he could muster.

You two would be sorting this shit out then, whether you liked it or not. When it was over, you’d both spend the rest of the weekend making up for lost time. And Andrew was going to do everything in his power to ensure you enjoyed every fucking second of it. Just like he planned to enjoy getting reacquainted with that delicate sweetness between those luscious thighs. But first…

He needed to go make a call.

END

*Part Three Coming Soon...*

___

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goldengalore · 1 year

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Office Shenanigans

Summary: Househusband Harry visits Y/N at work to drop off lunch for her, and they decide to take advantage of her new private office.

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: smut (sub!harry and dom!reader)

A/N: This takes place in the same universe as “Date Night” where Harry and Y/N are married with a daughter. However, you don’t necessarily have to read “Date Night” to understand this one. Enjoy! :)

***

Harry is in the wrong place. He’s sure of it.

He has been searching for Y/N’s office building for the past twenty minutes. Her company recently moved to a new location that’s slightly closer to home. The new building is larger than the previous one, so Y/N was offered her own private office space.

This is Harry’s first time visiting her new workplace. She forgot her lunch at home this morning, and while she could’ve bought something to eat from the long lineup of restaurants across the street, Harry insisted on bringing lunch to her office instead. He knows she prefers home-cooked meals, not only because they’re healthier but also because she loves his cooking.

Y/N promised she would “thank him properly” once he got to the office. The vagueness of her message left his imagination running wild, as he tried to figure out exactly what kind of thank-you she had in mind. He was so caught up in the filthy ideas swirling around in his head that he drove right past his destination without even realizing it.

When he eventually caught his mistake, he turned the car around, but on his way back, he made a wrong turn and ended up on a completely different street. Finally, after twenty minutes of aimless driving, he resorted to using the GPS, which is probably what he should’ve done from the beginning, but he was just so confident that he could find the building himself.

At last, he now arrives and parks his car in the lot before heading inside. And of course, the man at the front desk informs him that he is, in fact, in the wrong place and the place he’s looking for is actually next door.

He sighs and thanks the man before making his way to the next building. He can imagine Y/N sitting in her office with a grumbling stomach, wondering where the fuck he is. He walks faster.

Pushing through the revolving glass doors, he enters this building, hoping it’s the right one this time. They really should have signs on these things. How is someone like him supposed to know which building is which anyway? They all look the same.

The first thing he notices when he walks in is the spaciousness of the new lobby. It has to be at least twice as big as the previous one. There’s a long, white marble countertop across from the entrance. Behind it sits a petite woman with straight, jet black hair. She looks to be in her early to mid twenties. Her gaze is focused intently on the computer in front of her, fingers furiously typing away at the keyboard.

Harry clears his throat as he walks up to the counter. “Um, hi, sorry, I’m not sure if I’m in the right place. Does Y/N Styles work here?”

The woman—Jessica, according to the nameplate on the counter—glances away from her computer screen for only half a second.

“You are...?”

“Oh, sorry, I’m Harry. Y/N’s husband. I came by to drop off lunch for her.” He lifts the bag of food in his hand.

She quirks an inquisitive brow. “You’re her husband?”

“Yes.”

What’s so surprising about that? he wonders.

She pauses now, properly taking in his appearance for the first time since he walked in here. She tilts her head to the side, like she’s trying to figure something out, then goes right back to her incessant typing without a word.

He wonders for a moment if he said something wrong. He doesn’t think he did...

“So, um,” he begins, trying to get her attention again, “Are you going to let her know I’m here or—?”

“You’re going to have to wait, hun,” she interjects. “I’m in the middle of something.”

“Right. Of course. No rush. Take your time.”

He takes a step back from the counter and waits for her to finish. In the meantime, his eyes wander around the lobby. There are plants decorating each corner. Floor-to-ceiling windows bring in copious amounts of natural light that reflects off the white floors and countertops. He can hear the light chatter of a few employees sitting and eating at the couches off to the side, seemingly on their lunch break. It reminds him of Y/N, and he finds himself wishing that Jessica would hurry up, but he doesn’t want to be impolite.

“Hi, honey!”

He turns around to find his wife walking towards him, looking beautiful as ever even in ordinary work clothes consisting of a grey pantsuit and white blouse. She smiles and waves at him. His frenetic energy from before instantly vanishes, replaced by pure calm.

“I was wondering where you were,” she says. “I was starting to get worried.”

“Sorry, got a bit lost on my way here. My navigation skills failed me today.”

“What navigation skills?”

He glares at her. “Ha-ha. Very funny.”

“I know. I’m hilarious.”

Okay, maybe navigation isn’t his forte. He can see how his stubborn refusal to use a GPS or ask anyone for directions might be infuriating for anyone riding in the car with him, which is exactly why Y/N is the one who drives when they go places together.

She takes a step closer now and gives him a quick peck on the lips that he wishes would last longer, but then he remembers they’re at her workplace and it’s probably not wise to be passionately making out where everyone can see them.

“I see you’ve met our wonderful receptionist Jessica. Without her, this place would fall to pieces.”

Harry watches Jessica crack a smile for the first time since he walked in here.

“Oh, stop,” she says, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

“And Jess, this is my lovely husband Harry.”

Jessica eyes him curiously. “Harry, do you happen to have a brother... who also happens to be single?”

He frowns, puzzled by the randomness of the question. “Um, no. I have a sister. She’s not single though.”

Her shoulders droop a little. “Oh. That’s unfortunate.”

When Harry looks at Y/N, she has an amused grin on her face, like she knows something he doesn’t.

“Well, we’ll let you get back to work, Jess,” she says before turning to Harry. “C’mon, let’s show you my shiny new office.”

Grabbing his hand, she pulls him along with her to the elevators. As they’re waiting, he says, “That was a bit strange.”

“What?”

“The brother question. Came out of nowhere.”

Y/N chuckles and caresses his cheek. “You’re so cute.”

He laughs. “What?”

“Baby, she was implying that she thinks you’re hot and wants to date a version of you that’s not already taken.”

“Oh. Oh.” It suddenly clicks. How do these things always go over his head? “I thought she didn’t like me. She seemed a bit annoyed.”

“That’s just how Jess is. You can never tell whether she likes or hates you. It works really well for her actually, since a lot of our clients are dumb, condescending men. She knows how to keep them in line.”

“That’s kind of hot.”

“I know, right?”

The elevator arrives and they ascend to Y/N’s floor. She leads him down a hallway towards her office, passing by several of her co-workers along the way who all greet her with a friendly smile or a brief hello. Some of them look familiar to him, probably because he met them at one of those work events Y/N sometimes takes him to.

When they reach her office, a dark-haired woman is leaning against the wall next to the doorway. She holds up a small stack of papers as she sees Y/N approaching.

“Hey, Y/N, here are those printouts you were asking for earlier.”

“Oh, perfect! Thanks, Violet,” she says, taking the papers from her co-worker.

Violet’s gaze then shifts to Harry.

“Oh, this is my husband Harry,” says Y/N. “Harry, this is Violet. She joined the company a few months ago.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” says Violet. “I can’t believe you’re real!”

Amused, he asks, “Why’s that?”

“Because a guy who truly supports his wife’s career and aspirations and wants her to succeed sounds so unbelievable. But maybe that’s because I’ve dated and married assholes my entire life.”

“Probably,” says Y/N.

“At this point, I’m convinced I’m destined to end up with an asshole.”

“I don’t think so,” says Harry, sincerely. “You seem like a lovely person. I’m sure you’ll find someone who supports you. It usually happens when you least expect it.”

The woman smiles at his comforting words, then looks over at Y/N. “Okay, this man is a literal angel.”

“Isn’t he?” Y/N gives him a fond grin, which he returns with equal affection.

“You guys are adorable.” Violet releases a wistful sigh. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go walk into oncoming traffic.”

“Have fun!” Y/N shouts as she starts walking away.

“I will!”

Once Violet is gone, the two of them enter Y/N’s office. She shuts the door behind them before taking the lunch bag out of Harry’s hands and placing it on her desk with the papers that Violet gave her. Next, she closes the blinds in her office, affording them complete privacy from the rest of the floor.

“Alone, at last,” she says.

He takes in her new workspace. On the right, there is a white leather sofa with a small, oval coffee table in front of it. The wall parallel to the door has a window with the blinds half-closed, still allowing plenty of light to enter the room.

Her desk and chair are set up along the left side. A picture frame containing a photo of Harry with their eight-year-old daughter Savannah sits on the edge of the desk. It’s from their trip to Disneyland last summer. Harry and Savannah are wearing huge Mickey Mouse ears on their heads. He’s crouched down next to her, and they’re both grinning widely at the person behind the camera—Y/N. It warms his heart to know that she keeps that photo on her desk. A constant reminder of the two people she loves most.

“This big office is all yours, huh?” he asks.

“Yup. All mine.” She’s standing by her desk now, leaning against it with her arms loosely crossed in front of her, eyes travelling down his body in a way that makes him blush and wonder whether her words were referring to the office or him.

“Come here,” she says softly.

He walks over to her. Once he’s within arm’s reach, she grabs the hem of his lime green sweater and tugs him closer. He leans down and meets her halfway for a kiss. His hands find their way to her waist before sliding around to her bum, squeezing it gently.

She places one hand on the back of his neck while the other sneaks under his sweater. As her cold fingers make contact with his warm skin, his abdomen contracts reflexively. Her fingers travel up his toned torso to his nipples. She pinches and massages them until they’re nice and firm.

He moans softly against her lips, his cock stirring in his jeans. As he opens his eyes for a brief moment, his gaze falls upon the lunch bag still sitting on her desk, reminding him of the reason he came here in the first place.

He pulls away slightly. “Are you going to eat? You must be starving.”

“Always so concerned about me.” She smiles at him, lightly scratching the back of his head with her fingernails, sending tingles down his spine. “What about you? Did you have lunch already?”

He nods.

“What did you have for dessert?”

“Um, nothing.”

She frowns. “Well, that’s not right... Good boys deserve dessert.”

His mouth waters at her comment like a conditioned response.

“But first, let’s get these clothes off you.” She starts pulling up his sweater.

“Wait, maybe we should lock the door?”

“Oh, no need.” She waves a dismissive hand. “No one here walks in without knocking first. Very respectful people.”

He gulps nervously, glancing at the unlocked door. “Are you— Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

He trusts her, of course. But he also knows that Y/N gets a thrill out of doing things like this. Fooling around with him in places where they run the risk of getting caught. He can’t say he hates it. Sure, he may hesitate and whine a little bit at first, but he always goes along with it because if he’s honest, the idea of them getting caught strikes the perfect combination of fear and excitement inside him.

So, he lets her strip each item of clothing off his body until he’s completely exposed. All of his clothes are placed neatly on her desk with his Vans on the floor beside it.

“Kneel,” she says.

Obediently, he sinks to his knees. She unzips her pants and turns around before pulling them down below the gorgeous curve of her ass, along with her panties. Then she bends over her desk, baring her wet pussy to him, and his tongue immediately sets to work.

“Mmm, yes,” she sighs out. “Good boy.”

He laps at her wetness with a primal hunger, as if he hasn’t tasted her in weeks, even though his head was buried between her thighs just last night. He can’t get enough of her. Ever.

As he eats her out, he notices that her moans are softer—barely audible, in fact—and less frequent than usual, which makes him wonder if he’s doing something wrong. The lovely sounds she makes normally help him gauge how well he’s doing, whether he’s hitting all the right spots, whether he needs to apply more pressure or give her clit more attention. Although he knows her body extremely well by now, the verbal affirmations are always helpful.

He starts to contemplate what he can do differently when it suddenly occurs to him... She’s probably trying to be quiet so that her co-workers don’t hear them and get suspicious. Heat travels up his neck and face as he remembers the unlocked door.

His hand subconsciously drifts down to his cock. He’s so hard, it’s almost painful. Just a few strokes, that’s all he needs to get some relief. Just a few, quick—

“Hope you’re not touching yourself without my permission, puppy,” warns Y/N, her voice sweet and stern at the same time.

He immediately pulls his hand away from himself but doesn’t say anything. Suddenly, she straightens up and turns around to face him with a look of suspicion in her eyes.

“Oh, you totally were, weren’t you?”

And there it is. That faint smirk he always gets on his face when he knows he’s done something defiant. “A brat at heart,” is what Y/N calls him sometimes.

She crosses her arms. “I should spank you right now, but I can’t for obvious reasons. So maybe, for now, I should just send you home like this, leave you all horny and unsatisfied for the rest of the day.”

His cock swells even more at her threat and the nonchalance with which she said it, effectively reminding him that she owns him and his pleasure.

“But I won’t do that to you. Because I’m nice. And because you’ve been good... for the most part.” She taps him on the nose.

Relief is what he feels, as well as excitement that she’s going to let him cum before he leaves here.

They move to the couch, where he sits down while she undresses her bottom half. Then she climbs onto his lap with her knees on either side of him. He can feel her wetness against his thigh. She begins stroking his aching cock, giving him just what he needs. Gentle strokes mixed in with firm tugs that make him forget all about where he is in that moment.

“Y/N...” He releases a moan that comes out a bit too loud.

Y/N instantly clamps a hand over his mouth. “Shhh. Do you want the whole office to hear us?”

He tries to apologize, but his apology is muffled by her hand, which she keeps firmly pressed against his mouth as she continues playing with his dick.

“Do you want them all to know that you’re my little slut? Huh?” she asks. “That the sweet, well-mannered boy I always tell them about is a needy little whore behind closed doors... Only for me?”

His eyes roll back, her teasing words turning him into an absolute puddle on the couch. He takes a deep, shaky breath in through his nose. His fingers dig into the soft skin around her thighs.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

A knock at the door makes them both jump.

“Y/N? You there?” says the person on the other side. A male voice. He knocks again.

Y/N’s expression changes into one of utter annoyance. She sighs and replies, “I’m on break, Jeremy!”

Ah. The infamous Jeremy. The clueless co-worker who is always screwing something up, often making Y/N late to come home in the evenings.

“I know. I’ll be quick. I just need some help. See, I was playing around with the code we’ve been working on for that car company and I think I broke it because every time I try to run it now, I get an error that won’t go away. Not sure what I’m doing wrong. It might be because I deleted this one section of the code because I thought it wasn’t important, but—”

Harry isn’t a mean person. Not at all. He rarely utters a bad word about anyone. But right now, he just wants to tell Jeremy to fuck off. Thankfully, Y/N does it for him but in more professional terms.

“Hey, let’s talk about this later, okay?”

“But—”

“Bye, Jeremy!”

They hear him sigh outside the door before walking away. Y/N returns her attention to Harry. Instead of going back to stroking him, she presses his leaky tip against her entrance and lets him fill her up. The sensation of her tight walls enclosing his cock is so intensely satisfying, like her pussy is trying to swallow him whole. If her hand wasn’t covering his mouth, he’s not sure if he could have contained himself.

“Fuck me,” she whispers, and his hips comply.

His large hands grip her ass as he thrusts upward into her. She gasps. He does it again and again, building up a perfect rhythm that brings them both closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it. You’re doing so well, puppy. Always make me feel so good.”

The praise sends his pleasure into overdrive. He can feel the unmistakable heat of an orgasm building inside his balls, which are aching for release.

Finally, she asks, “Are you going to cum for me?”

And that’s enough to send him diving over the edge. They climax at the same time, engulfed in each other’s embrace. Y/N removes her hand from his mouth, and he buries his face in her neck as they come down from the powerful high.

They’re quick to clean up and get dressed afterwards, erasing all evidence of their deed. Y/N stands in front of him and helps fix his disheveled hair.

“Thanks for the lunch,” she says.

“Thanks for the orgasm,” he replies.

They smirk at each other. She gives him a kiss on the lips. “See you at home.”

“See you at home. Love you.”

“Love you.”

Still drunk with pleasure, he exits the room with a big, dopey grin plastered on his face. It falters when he notices someone standing in the hallway, not too far from Y/N’s office—a lanky guy with blonde hair and pale skin. Harry realizes this is probably Jeremy. He also realizes he probably looks so fucked out right now.

The two men make eye contact for one long, awkward moment. Jeremy narrows his eyes, as if trying to figure out who Harry is and why he just emerged from Y/N’s office. Giving him a quick nod, Harry walks briskly past him to the elevator.

The giddy smile on his face returns as soon as the elevator doors close. As he descends to the ground floor, his phone vibrates in his back pocket. He takes it out and finds a text from Y/N that sends the blood rushing to his manhood all over again:

“By the way, you’re still getting that spanking later tonight.”

***

Thank you for reading! For more househusband!Harry and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

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jedijesi · 6 months

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Caught in the Cat's Web Chapter 4

Miguel O'Hara x Felicia Hardy!Reader

Previous Chapter 🕸️ Series Masterlist

Warnings: SMUT (no piv), Angst, She/Her Pronouns, Enemies to Lovers, Slowish Burn

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Felicia goes on a date with Web-Slinger, but Miguel doesn't like it for some reason. Why? He hates her, right?

Co-Author: @stclairesplace

Nueva York, Earth-838

“And Spider-Cat brought in a whopping 57 criminals in one night,” Jessica informed Miguel as she jotted down her notes. “Did you and Felicia rip each other apart last night? I mean, you know you don’t have to train them. Web-Slinger’s expressed plenty of times how much he’s been waiting to join me in training recruits.”

Miguel shakes his head towards Jessica. “No. We didn’t kill each other… it was actually... pretty nice.” Jessica makes a mental note of the way Miguel smiles as he recalls the night. “Felicia was incredible, she brought in 34 criminals and made sure each and every victim was okay. It’s like she's been doing this all her life.”

“Hmmm.” Jessica nods, trying to understand what else must have happened in order for Miguel to act so cheerful, compared to yesterday. “Well, you can take a back seat now and focus on the other universes. I think I'm gonna take Web-Slinger on as a trainer, he’s been expressing wanting to take on bigger roles.”

“No, no, I don't mind helping out.”

“I think you're scaring the recruits, though.”

Miguel sighs, “I’ll back off a bit, but I like training and they should get used to it. I'm the boss.”

Jessica shrugs, “Whatever you want, Miguel. I'm gonna go bring Web-Slinger on, still.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Felicia walks into the crowded dining hall to grab her usual latte before work. She needed a pick-me-up after last night's adventures. After ordering she goes to the pick-up bar to wait, watching the masked baristas make her drink.

“Black coffee for Web-Slinger!” A barista shouts to the waiting customers.

“Pardon, ma'am.” Felicia is taken aback as she turns to meet a masked horse and his masked rider.

She quickly moves out of the way, watching as he leans down to grab his cup of coffee. “Quite the entrance you two made there," Felicia said, a sly grin on her face as she leaned against the pick-up bar, her eyes glinting with amusement. "I can’t say I’ve seen a Spider-Man and their trusty steed in a coffee shop before."

The masked rider couldn't help but return a playful smirk. "Well, we do try to make an entrance wherever we go," he replied with a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Iced Latte for Night Spider!” The barista shouts prompting Felicia to grab her drink.

The horse's rider, whose mask concealed most of his face, had an air of confidence about him as he gracefully dismounted. “Would you like to join me?” He asks, taking the reins into his gloved hands.

Felicia smiles flirtatiously, “Only if you let me ride bareback.”

Web-Slinger and Felicia walk to an empty table that overlooks the sights of Nueva York.

The Web-Slinger pulls out the red chair for Felicia, for her to sit in before sitting across from her. “I don't believe I’ve seen you around.” The man says.

“I’m relatively new.” She shrugs taking a sip from her straw.

“Ahh, so you must be part of the group I’m gonna start training, huh.”

“I already know everythin’ I need to know, cowboy” Felicia winks.

Web-Slinger leans over the table and with a whisper, says, “I’m sure there's plenty I can teach you, little lady.”

The sound of Felicia’s laugh catches the attention of Miguel and LYLA as they walk to the gym. Miguel smiles to himself realizing he's rarely heard Felicia laugh. Wanting to see what all the fuss was, he followed the sound of her laughter through the dining hall to see her and Web-Slinger and Felicia leaned in close over the small table, sharing a quiet exchange before both of them suddenly burst into laughter. It was a casual moment, nothing too significant, but for some reason, Miguel felt an unexpected surge of anger.

"I don't know if you know this," Felicia remarked, her voice playful, "but I'm an environmental activist. I prefer to save a horse n' ride a cowboy." She winked at Web-Slinger.

Miguel, unamused, interrupted with a deadpan expression. "Hardy."

Felicia slowly leaned away from the cowboy and turned her attention to Miguel. "O'Hara," she purred, her tone laden with innuendo.

Miguel shifted his gaze, his voice carrying a note of annoyance. "We're meeting in 5 minutes."

Felicia maintained her sultry demeanor. "I know, big boy. I'll be there."

The two locked eyes in a heated stare until Web-Slinger, noticing the tension, interjected, "Everythin' okay between you two?"

Felicia gave Miguel a devious smile. "Never better," she replied, her tone filled with mischief. "I guess I'll head over to the gym. Thanks for being eye candy," she told Web-Slinger with a flirtatious parting glance.

“Were goin’ the game way, darlin’, why don't you ride Widow with me?” He says as he stands.

Felicia smirks as she sauntered over to the cowboy. “I thought you'd never ask.”

Felicia gracefully mounts the horse, her curves accentuated by the tight spider suit she wore. Her long silver hair cascaded down her back as she adjusted the reins and settled into the saddle. With a gentle but firm grasp, she held onto the reins. She leaned forward against Widow’s next, her breasts touching the saddle horn, and held eye contact with Miguel as she brought her right hand out to stroke the horse's neck, sweetly saying, “Good boy”. Once Web-Slinger hopped on behind her he kept his hands along her waist. He gave Widow a quick kick, the horse moving from a walk into a slow, sultry trot, glancing back with a smirk as she rode away. Leaving Miguel's jaw tightens as he attempts to comprehend what had just happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good afternoon, recruits!” LYLA said with her cheery voice. “You all did fantastic last night. Since training is wrapping up and you'll soon be full-fledged members of the Spider Society, for the next few days we have some of our top veterans that you can shadow and work one-on-one with until graduation! Feel free to roam about and interview Spider Society members! LYLA said before glitching away.

Recruits excitedly wandered around the gym and to the cafeteria to the various experts for help. Felicia didn’t need to do much wandering as she had her eyes set on a certain cowboy.

Felicia waited behind Julia as she fangirled over one of her favorite Spider heroes. “I’d be happy to let you shadow me, ma'am. Meet me here tomorrow night, okay?”

Julia nodded excitedly, “of course, Sir! Thank you!”

“Now if you'll excuse me.” The cowboy says, tipping his hat as he moves past Julia to where Felicia stands.

“Hey, Cowboy.” She smirked, leaning against the wall.

Web-Slinger places his forearm on the area above her head, using it to lean on. “You lookin’ for a teacher?”

Felicia shrugs, “I don't know, you teachin’ cowboy?”

“Yes, ma'am. I can take you out to the bar upstairs to study. How does that sound, gorgeous?”

Miguel couldn't seem to concentrate on the line of recruits interviewing him while Felicia and Web-Slinger were standing so obnoxiously close on the other side of the gym. It was too noisy to completely understand their conversation with his super hearing, but from what he could gather, it sounded as if they were going on a date.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New York, Earth-192

Felicia meticulously adhered to the event's dress code, selecting an elegant formal outfit. She stood before the mirror, her gaze scrutinizing her appearance. Her sleek, black dress clung to her figure, accentuating her curves, and she took a moment to ensure everything fell just right. She focused on the way her ass looked in it, turning back around, she checked her hair she let it down, before placing her mask over her eyes. “Hot.” She states, seeing at the final look.

Felicia cast a quick glance at the time, realizing that it was time to make her departure. In a hurry, she snatched up her watch, deftly input the coordinates for Nueva York, and activated the portal. With a sense of purpose and confidence, she stepped into the shimmering gateway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nueva York, Earth-838

Felicia takes the elevator to the 102nd floor. As the doors open, the sound of jazz music and laughter mixed with the smells of alcohol and cigars makes Felicia feel like she was back in her Black Cat days, robbing rich men at fancy bars. As she saunters towards to bar, she spots the red spider bandana paired with a black button-up and slacks.

“Hey, Cowboy.” She hums, catching the man’s attention.

“My, my, my…” The Web-Slinger stands, removing his hat as he admires Felicia. “You're a sight, darlin’.”

Felicia feels her cheeks heat up at his reaction. “I hope you are ready to study.” She teases.

“I'm ready to do a lot more than studying.” He whispers in her ear as he pushes Felicia’s stool in.

“What can I get you two tonight?” The masked bartender asked.

“A vodka martini please,” Felicia says, leaning on the bar, letting her breasts shine.

“And a whisky for me.” Web-Slinger tips his hat to the bartender.

Felicia swivels in her stool to look directly at the handsome cowboy. “So, cowboy, what’s your real name?”

“Patrick.”

“Hmm… I like Cowboy better. Now, aren't you gonna tell me about the Spider Society?”

Meanwhile, Miguel and Ben took a seat in the armchairs near the fireplace. Miguel leaned back, scanning the bar area subtly, his eyes narrowing as he spotted Felicia and Patrick at the bar, engrossed in their conversation.

"I didn't even know this bar existed, Sir," Ben remarked, his voice tinged with a mix of nervousness and excitement.

Miguel nodded, keeping an eye on Felicia while maintaining a calm demeanor. "It's a hidden gem, Ben. We like to have nice amenities for the spider-people who work and live here full time. Now, remember, patience is key in our line of work. Just observe, listen, and let me know if anything unusual happens."

“Is something going down here?” Ben said excitedly.

Miguel shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “No. Consider it training. For example, look! Felcia’s here-”

“Holy shit she looks hot-” Ben is cut off by a smack to the head from Miguel.

“Shut the fuck up.” He yells in a whisper. “You said you wanted me to train you, you wanna learn or not?” Ben nods slowly, like a sad puppy. “Our goal is to observe Felicia, see what she doing here, maybe find out what she's talking about.”

“Well, she’s eating those olives very seductively,” Ben says, fixated on the little detail, making Miguel regret bringing him.

As the evening went on, the date between Felicia and Patrick seemed to progress smoothly. Miguel couldn't help but admire how well she looked in something other than her suit, but he remained vigilant all while Ben interpreted their date.

“You mentioned you were an environmental activist, correct?” Felicia could hear the grin in his voice.

She took one last sip of her martini, placing the empty glass back down onto the wooden bar. “Oh, yes. Very passionate.” She bats her eyes.

“You know..” Patrick leans in, placing his hand on Felicia’s thigh. “I’d love to get involved. You think you'd be interested in helpin’ me, dalrin’?”

Felica gives the cowboy a crocodile smile before standing. “Lead the way, cowboy.”

This causes Miguel to jump. “Woah what's going on, Ben.”

“Um… She's an environmental activist.” He shrugs, leaving both men confused.

“You’re no help.”

Felicia and Patrick scurry past the elevator down a hallway. “Where are we going?” Felicia giggles.

“There’s a common room everyone forgets about with an incredible view this way.” He says, turning the corner.

The Web-Slinger stops in front of the door, tugging down his mask, revealing his sharp, beautiful features before leaning in to kiss Felicia. She moans into his mouth, as they let lust take over. Patrick’s right hand roams Felicia’s body as his left fiddles with the handle of the door. As soon as it opens, he uses his superhuman strength to pick up Felicia as if she were a feather, letting her legs wrap around his waist.

Once in the room, Felicia throws the cowboy’s hat and begins unbuttoning his shirt. Meanwhile, Patrick moans in lust, walking to the other side of the room to sit on the couch in front of the big window. With Felicia on his lap, he grinds up into her clothed pussy, moaning as he feels how drenched she is. “Fuck, Darlin’.” He moans, unzipping the back of her dress, and exposing her black lace bra.

Felicia moans as she rocked against Patrick’s clothed cock. “Ride me.” He begs.

“Shhhh… Let me take my time, cowboy.” She moans, closing her eyes, feeling his lips suck on her neck while he plays with her breasts. “I need it, cowboy.” She whines.

“Ahem.” The sound of someone clearing his throat, causes Felicia’s eyes to open wide.

“Miguel?!” Felicia shouts, lifting her dress to cover her chest and Patrick to scrabble to button up his shirt. “What are you doing here?!”

Miguel turns the dim light on to illuminate the room, chuckling to himself as the two panics. “This is a common room.”

“Hi, Felicia.” Ben peaks from around the corner, watching as she zips her dress up.

“Ben?!” She could punch the wall, she was so frustrated.

“You know, romantic relationships are not allowed in the Spider Society,” Miguel says, leaning on the door frame.

“Gee thanks, boss.” Felicia snaps.

“My apologies, sir. I didn't realize.” Patrick says as he tries to find his hat that Felicia threw in the heat of the moment.

Miguel's expression softened slightly as he observed the storm of emotions brewing in the room. He felt a tinge of guilt, knowing that his adherence to the Spider Society's rules had added to the tension. "In our line of work," he began, his voice measured, "it's vital that we stay focused. The Spider Society's rules exist to protect us all."

Felicia sighed, her frustration evident, the room's atmosphere heavy with unresolved conflict. "Fine, Miguel. I get it, you have stupid rules to make me more miserable." She turned to Patrick, giving him an apologetic look, and brushed past Miguel on her way out the door.

Patrick, somewhat flustered but understanding the gravity of the situation, nodded. "Is my position in jeopardy, Sir?"

Miguel reassured him with a nod. "No, you're one of our best." He held Patrick's gaze. "Be careful."

As Patrick left, Miguel found himself standing alone, the weight of the situation pressing on him. He couldn't quite pinpoint the jumble of emotions within him – anger, guilt, or perhaps something else entirely. The room felt heavy with unresolved tension, leaving him to grapple with the repercussions of his decisions.

Chapter 5

A/N: Lmk if u want to be added to the taglist!

Taglist: @leahnicole1219 @oscarissac2099

#miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x reader #jedi jesi #stclairesplace #felicia hardy #miguel ohara x female reader #miguel o’hara x felicia hardy #miguel o’hara x felicia hardy reader #miguel x reader #spider-man x black cat #spider man 2099 #spider man x reader #spider man 2099 x reader #web slinger #web slinger x reader #spider man smut #miguel o’hara smut

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foodsies4me · 28 days

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March Malec fic rec!

A very big thank you to @just-add-butter for this month's suggestion: Animal transformations! As usual, I'm keeping it to one fic per author, bust several of these authors have multiple fics that apply and even more fics that are wonderful. And, if you want to add you own recs in the replies, tags or reblogs please feel free to do so! (Also if someone has a theme for April please tell me so I can get that list out a bit sooner than at the very end of the month, lol)

I have tagged the authors whose Tumblr account I know, but if you'd prefer I not tag you, please tell me so! I don't want these to be annoying for the authors.

One-shots:

Hop into my arms by @malecfan09: Magnus gets turned into a bunny and it's adorable, what more do you want me to say? This is just fluff, fluff and more fluff.

Summary

Magnus has been magically turned into a bunny by a rogue warlock and Alec looks after him until the spell wears off. *** Flufftober 2023: Day 18 - protecting and Day 20- reading together

Shake Your Fetters Loose by Dreadwyrms: Alec gets turned into a dog and Magnus is NOT a dog person. Post canon with married Malec and again lots of fluff.

Summary:

An investigation into a rogue warlock goes very, very wrong, and Magnus learns he’ll never ever really be a dog person. AKA the one in which Alec accidentally gets turned into a dog.

Everybody (does not) want to be a cat by Falazure: One of the many, many Magnus or Alec get turned into a cat fics on this list.

Summary:

Magnus has suffered worse things in his long life, but being turned into a cat was still up-there on the list of rather annoying inconveniences.

Deepest desires (give in) by @myulalie: Another kitty Magnus fic based on a drawing by @misawkward.

Summary:

Were-cats are good luck by shadowhunters' standards, so when a black, jewelry covered cat appears at the Institute, Alec pays him his respects. He needs it, considering the messes Clary and Jace keep dragging him in. Alec certainly doesn't expect the were-cat to take a liking to him, and even less to start flirting with him...

the catastrophe of success by @alexanderlightweight: A personal favourite Magnus cat fic of mine!

Summary:

Magnus Bane was the most eligible bachelor in the Downworld, sought after by everyone from mundanes to Seelie Princes but a man tired after centuries of heartbreak. In an attempt to gain a respite from his admirers, Magnus proposed a deal. A key to his loft and a path through his wards guarded by his cat, if anyone managed to take the key, Magnus would grant them a date.

Multi-chapter fics or series:

The dragon!Alec series by @to-the-stars-writing, who is perhaps the queen of the dragon Alec fics. I have read and reread every single one of them.

Summary of Building a Clan (aka part one in this series)

Keeping secrets was never easy. Alec should know – he was keeping quite a few. Sometimes it was hard to remember who knew what secrets. The chance of slipping up, the damage that could cause, was unthinkable. There were too many things about himself that he couldn’t let just anyone know. Too many things that marked him as wrong or different, even if he didn’t understand why sometimes. His family were the only ones to know his biggest secret, one that could get him killed if he wasn’t careful. Bad enough that his parents had once been a part of the Circle and extremely close to Valentine himself. If any Shadowhunters – or, Angel forbid, the Clave – ever found out that Maryse had allowed Valentine to inject her with something, mixing what she’d been told was more Angel blood with her unborn child, the ramifications could be catastrophic for their family. More so if they ever found out it wasn’t Angel blood that he’d injected the fetus with. It was dragon blood.

The Warlock's Cat by @dreaming-marchling, which I already put on my end-of-the-year rec list, but it deserves to be here again because So Good. Kitty Alec fic!

Summary

Pain raced up his arm. It was a sharp throb that radiated out. More than a broken bone. When Alec went to flex his hand to see how bad it was he couldn’t. His eyes snapped to his own hand and there was no hand. There was no him. By the Angel… Alec scrambled up on uncoordinated legs – too many legs! – that trembled underneath him. He panted and looked down at himself as best he could. Dark fur. Two paws, one still scorching with pain. The ground not even a foot below him even though he was standing as tall as he could. Reality was screaming at him and Alec couldn’t accept it. His brain couldn’t wrap itself around what was in front of him. That bastard had turned him into a cat.

Shoelaces and Precious Metals by @violet-renegade: Another dragon!Alec fic that is angsty and sweet and just a very nice read.

Summary

Magnus loves Alexander, his proud dragon Shadowhunter, and he knows that Shadowhunters don't display their relationships with collars the way Downworlders do. Magnus always thought he understood what that meant for him and Alec. As it turns out, Magnus didn't understand at all In the early months of their relationship, Alec had let himself wonder about what kind of collar Magnus might offer him. Sometimes, he'd even indulge in the thought that Magnus would coordinate Alec’s collars with his own outfit, marking it clear who Alec belonged to every time they went out. And then Magnus doesn't ask. And doesn't ask. And doesn't ask.

Hearth and Home by @molly_jae: And another Dragon!Alec fic. Yes there are a lot of dragon fics!

Summary of Ichor and Cuddles which is the first part in this two-part series:

“Alexander, I love you,” Magnus sighs, throwing his head back with a thud against the hardwood floor. “But unlike your lovely scales, ichor does not just slide off my limited edition Marc Jacobs jacket, or these pants you love to see my ass in.”

The Warlock's Familiar by @harkasun: Another cat!Alec fic!

Summary:

For over five years, Alec Lightwood has been denied his birth right: that of a familiar to be claimed by a warlock. When he finally finds that warlock, having talked him down from the ledge of Brooklyn Bridge, he despairs to find that the man wants nothing to do with him. With rising pressures from his family, and his warlock’s steadfast determination to shut him out, Alec must talk his way into Magnus’s home and heart. The only question is: how far will he go to claim his fate?

#Fic rec #Malec fic rec #Spent the past few days rereading some of these #and I now want to write a dragon!Aec fic #and a Cat!Magnus fic #help #too manny plotbunnies

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supercap2319 · 1 year

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Baby It’s Cold Outside Chapter 2

A/N: Warning: Mention of child abuse. Abuse. Running away. This is depressing as fudge, I promise next chapter will be happier.

Tyler nervously watched the time on his phone change from 11:59 pm to 12:00 am. It’s midnight and his father still isn’t home yet. The young man had been pacing around the room in a nervous anticipation ever since his conversation with Y/N at the Weathervane earlier today. After his shift at work, he waited antsy for his father to come home in hopes that he could ask him for permission to spend Christmas with Y/N.

Hopefully, he said yes.

The sound of keys jingling and the front door opening up jolted Tyler out of his thoughts as he watched his dad come into the living room, still dressed in his sheriff’s uniform. His tired eyes cast a glance over at Tyler as he turned fully towards his son. “Looking for something?”

Tyler shook his head no.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed already?” Sheriff Galpin asked. He sat down in a chair and began to remove his boots. Tyler watched him pull his feet free of them before putting them on the side of the chair. “I-I couldn’t sleep. Plus, there’s something that I need to ask you.”

That got the Sheriff's attention as he looked at his son with inquisitive eyes. Eyebrows raised. “Oh, and what might that be?”

“Can I go to Y/N Munster’s house for Christmas? He invited me to go.”

“Munster invited you?” The sheriff asks.

Tyler nodded his head.

The sheriff is silent for a second, looking at Tyler. Looking him up and down and Tyler has to fight the urge to look away from him, or look down. Finally, Tyler’s dad gave him his answer, and it makes his heart sink faster than the Titanic. “No. No, I don’t want you to go with that boy. He’s a menace, and I don’t trust him or his family.”

“But dad it’s only for a few days and I’ll be back in no–”

“–What part of ‘no,’ don’t you understand, boy?” The sheriff glares up at his son as the youngest Galpin falls silent. His father’s tone was any indication that this conversation was over. No more arguing or bargaining. Tyler wasn’t going anywhere, and that was final.

Tyler nods his head in defeat as he tries not to cry in front of his dad. Cry would only make the situation worse for himself if he did. So, he sucks it up until he’s safely inside the confines of his room to cry in peace. “Yes, sir. Sorry, dad. You're right.”

Sheriff Galpin nods his head. “Good. Now, go to bed because you still have semester tests tomorrow before winter break.”

Tyler nods once again as he leaves the living room, and up the stairs towards his room as he goes inside, shuts and locks the door before the tears fall down his face. He should have seen this coming. His father was the walking personification of a macho, straight male guy. Of course, he wouldn’t want his son going to an outcast's house for Christmas. Tyler was so stupid to believe that he would say yes. He should have expected the disappointment.

He sat down on his bed and looked up at the ceiling as he cried. His dad never used to be like this. So cold. Mean. Abusive. It started after his mom passed away when he was 6. And now sheriff Galpin was always on his son’s case about everything. And the worst part of it all was that Tyler hadn't told him about Y/N. That they were dating. He wouldn’t be disappointed in him, no, he would be fucking disgusted and beat him black and blue until the homosexual came out of him. Which is why Tyler hasn’t told Y/N that he hasn’t told his dad about them. He didn’t want to put Y/N through all that, but none of that mattered because he wasn’t going to be able to spend Christmas with his boyfriend.

Tyler looked at his phone and debated in his head on whether to text Y/N the bad news. Tell him that his dad has forbidden him from going anywhere with him. He could picture his boyfriend’s face, sad and full of tears, and it was enough to make Tyler cry once again, but he couldn’t. Not now. Not ever again. Maybe it was the Hyde side of him taking over, but in the recesses of his mind, a plan started to form. A plan that would change everything for him. His life. His relationship with his father. All of him. Was he prepared to accept the consequences?

Tyler got up from his bed as he began packing his things. Throwing clothes, shoes, personal items inside a giant duffel bag. He realized that his Hyde side might be pushing him, but ultimately this was his decision. He was conscious even to know what this would mean, and that there was no turning back once he chose to go down this road. And to be honest? Tyler couldn’t care less. He was running away from the town of Jericho. From his abusive dad. All of it.

….

The next day, Tyler kept spacing out, staring at nothing. He wasn’t paying attention during his classes, and he almost failed his semester tests, catching the worried eyes of his teachers. The thought of his father easily finding out about his little plan to run away. Catching him and punishing him. It made him shiver more than the cold weather was supposed to. He shakes his head, as if that act would instantly clear his head. That’s when he focuses on his task at hand, finishing his tests so he can leave school, pick up Y/N, and go. Once he’s finished each and everyone one of said tests, he leaves the classroom thinking he’s done his best. Probably not an A+ material, but good enough to pass for the semester.

Tyler holds tightly on his backpack straps as he passes by Lucas Walker. The son of the former mayor and sheriff as he nods to Tyler in understanding. This morning before school, Tyler offered Lucas a deal. If he would say that Tyler’s staying at his house for a few days, the Galpin boy would pay him fifty dollars to keep quiet. By then Tyler will have come up with a better plan by Christmas, he hoped. Lucas’s friends eyed him suspiciously as they still resented him for hanging and being friendly to the outcasts at Nevermore. Thankfully, not knowing of his Hyde side and all the terrible things he did, because they would hate him even more than they already did.

The young halfbreed pushed through the doors of the school as the frigid air of December blew through his clothes as he walked towards his truck.

“So, you and Tyler are both coming home for Christmas?”

Y/N could practically hear the smile in his mother’s voice as she said that. He chuckles. “Yeah, Ma. Tyler and I are coming home for Christmas. Tyler’s picking me up at 1:00 pm after he gets done with his semester test and we’ll head that way.”

“Well, your father and I can’t wait to meet him. Neither can grandpa Marilyn and Eddie.”

“Did you say that the whole family was coming from the old country?” Y/N asked as he pushed the last of his clothes into his duffel bag.

“Yes, dear. All your uncles are coming home for the holidays.”

“Well, I can wait to see you guys and everyone else, but I’ve got to go.”

“Okay, honey. See you soon.”

“Bye, Ma.” Y/N hangs up the phone as he makes sure he is everything ready before Tyler gets here. Nevermore was almost empty. Almost everyone had left this morning. His cousin Wednesday and Thing had left when his Uncle Gomez and Aunt Morticia came to pick up their daughter. Enid’s parents had come to get her. Bianca’s mom came to get her. Then Ajax had left with his older brother. Then a black, sleek car pulled up to the front of the school, as Xavier got in and winked at Y/N as he left for home as well. That left Y/N and a couple of other students who were still waiting for their rides and staff members.

About 15 minutes later, Y/N gets a text from Tyler that he’s on his way.

The young Munster smiled as he got his duffel bag, his backpack, and bundled up for the cold as he walked out of his dorm room, down the stairs and out to the front, waiting for his boyfriend to come pick him up. When he saw the red of Tyler’s pickup truck, Y/N smiled widely.

It pulled up right in front of him as the windows of the passenger side rolled down and Tyler’s boyish face could be seen. “Hey, baby.”

Y/N’s heart skips a beat at the nickname as a blush chases its way onto his face as Tyler comes from the driver side and pulls Y/N close into a kiss as red colored both their cheeks. From the kiss and the cold. Tyler pulled away, his blue eyes shining and a teasing smile on his handsome face. Y/N noticed the way light snow fell on Tyler’s golden brown locks and he had to resist the urge to run his fingers through them.

“You all set?”

Tyler’s voice brought Y/N back to reality. “Yeah, all set. Just this duffel bag and backpack and I’m good.” He showed the other boy his contents as he grabbed them from his hands and put them gently in the bed of his truck as he came back and laced his fingers with Y/N’s, pulling him towards the open passenger door. Tyler then puts a hand on the small of Y/N’s back, and the curly-haired barista pushed him into the passenger seat and closed the door as he came around to the driver side and got inside as he smiled. “Alright, next stop, New Jersey?”

“Yeah. I have the directions on my phone.” Y/N messes with his device for a few minutes before the navigation system comes on. It’s about a seven hour drive if they don’t stop too much.

“Great. And I’ve got a phone charger here for our phones and I’ve got chips and soda here, but if you get hungry we can stop somewhere later if you want?” Tyler asked him.

“Sounds perfect. I can’t wait for my whole family to meet you. I’m so excited.” Y/N is practically jumping in his seat with excitement as Tyler chuckles at his boyfriend’s amusement.

“And your dad was okay with you spending Christmas with my family?”

Tyler knew this question would pop up sooner or later, but he was still shocked when he heard Y/N ask it. He had prepared a whole speech for Y/N last night about how his dad didn’t give him permission at all to come with him, and oh, there was that small little detail of him running away from home. No biggie. Instead of telling him the truth; Tyler slipped into his other half. The half of him that lied to Y/N the first time when he had been accused of being the Hyde by Wednesday. The part of himself that almost ruined things between them. And now here he was, jeopardizing that very same relationship again, thanks to his lies. He just hopes that Y/N will understand and won’t hate him for lying to him again.

Tyler then put the truck in drive as he and Y/N drove away from Nevermore as it got smaller and smaller in the background as they drove through Jericho as Tyler’s heart spiked as they passed the Now leaving Jericho sign. Any minute now, his dad’s police car would show up behind them in the rear-view mirror. Tyler would be in so much trouble. His dad would probably beat him so badly that he wouldn’t dream about running away ever again and he would forbid the barista from associating with Y/N ever again. But it didn’t matter because Y/N would hate him when he found out about Tyler’s lies and deceptions. The same old tricks. Looks like Hydes couldn’t be trusted no matter how many chances you gave them.

Tyler’s heart didn’t stop hammering until they drove past Burlington and towards New Jersey.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #wednesday 2022 #tyler galpin x male reader #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin #hunter doohan x male reader #hunter doohan #sheriff Galpin is an asshole parent #sheriff galpin #past abuse #christmas fic #will get better #the munsters #Y/N Munster

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nhl-stories · 1 year

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You Stupid Bitch – Leon Draisaitl

Summary: Leon is stupidly, hopelessly in love. Too bad the object of his affection has terrible taste.

Author’s Note: Just some good old unrequited love getting requited

Word Count: 7k

Album Series Mastlerlist

You stupid bitch, can't you see? The perfect one for you is me

Leon hears the yelling before he gets to the front door. Screaming is probably a more accurate word. He stops and ponders whether he should ring the doorbell or not when the door opens and a woman almost runs him over.

“Good luck with that psycho bitch,” she half-addresses Leon and half screams it over her shoulder into the house before she storms off to her car.

“Nice to see you too, Dawn,” he mumbles before he lets himself into the house.

The house is almost a mirror version of his next door and he moves through the open floor plan until he finds Chloe.

“Fuck,” Leon stops in his tracks when he sees her lip bleeding, “did she do that?”

She touches her lip to see the blood while Leon goes to the freezer to grab an ice pack.

“Dammit, and technically yes.”

Leon whips around at that comment, “calm down, it was during sex. The sex was foreplay for the fight.”

Leon gives her disgusted look while handing her the ice.

“Aren’t Germans supposed to be into really kinky shit? Cause I’m real sick of this resting judgmental face you have.”

Leon just continues to stare.

“What are you doing here?”

“You have my dog.”

As if on cue, Bowie comes running through the dog door followed by Chloe’s fluffy orange cat, Baron. He picks up his dog and snuggles him close, Baron jumps up on the counter feeling left out.

“So, you and Dawn are done?”

Leon tries to be casual, not seem too interested, but he’s dying to know. Despite seeming like a grumpy annoyed neighbor, which yes, he’s that too, he’s hopelessly in love with Chloe.

“Yes, and don’t say I told you so.”

“I won’t, but she did string you along for months and then treated you horribly while you dated, if you can even call what you two did dating.”

Chloe ignores the fact that without actually using the words ‘I told you so,’ he basically did.

“Ohhh, but the sex was so good.”

“Other people are good at sex,” he’s glad his scruff is thick enough to hide the blush he can feel creeping up his face.

“You want to stay for dinner?” She moves the ice pack and touches her lip again, the bleeding’s stopped.

“I have food that I need to cook before it goes bad,” he starts to turn to leave and pauses, “want to come over?”

“Do I have to put on pants?”

Leon turns and peers around the kitchen island to see Chloe is only wearing a long sleeve t-shirt that only barely covers the good bits. Leon second guesses his invite.

“It’s fucking cold out.”

“You’re right next door, I’ll run.”

“And I was going to leisurely walk over.”

“Fine, I’ll put on pants.”

“And bring some wine.”

///

After her latest breakup, Leon resolves to tell Chloe how he feels; or at the very least make his feelings more obvious. He says he’ll do this every time and he never follows through, which is extra frustrating because Leon follows through on every other thing in his life.

He swears this time will be different.

It isn’t.

A parade of suitors, or at least that’s the respectable way to call them, parades through Chloe’s door until one sticks. His name is Michael or Matthew or something.

Leon doesn’t care to remember, but is polite enough when he meets him the first time. He gives off a weird vibe that Leon is suspect of, partly because of his own feelings and partly because Chloe infamously has bad taste in partners.

Leon gives them a month. If he was a betting man, he would have cashed out big.

30 days into their relationship Chloe is passed out on Leon’s couch, her black cocktail dress riding up precariously high, one heel still on.

She had barged in last night while he had some teammates over. She was completely plastered and complaining about something but was too incoherent to be entirely understandable, just enough that Leon knew the problem was whatshisface.

Bowie jumps onto the couch before Leon can stop him and starts licking her face.

She groans, but indulges the dog with a pet.

“Fuck, Bowie don’t let me drink that much ever again,” the dog just snuggles into her more, “and don’t let me spend the night in this brutalism hell your dad calls a home.”

She squeezes her eyes shut as if it will block out Leon’s neutral, modern décor.

“Sorry, I don’t live in the clown house you’re accustomed to,” he laughs but doesn’t get a snarky response, “how are you feeling?”

“Like drilling a hole into my head will make me feel better.”

“So, you either had a really fun or a really bad night.”

“Very bad, first Mitchell stands me up because apparently he’s not ready to be a public couple or some shit and then I got too deep into the open bar and probably did something to embarrass my brother, so that’s another thing I’ll have deal with later.”

She squeezes at her temples, like that will help the hangover, “and I clearly remember at least Connor being here last night, so I can only imagine I further embarrassed myself.”

Leon picks up a pair of neon orange, lacey underwear and tosses it towards her, “you insisted on showing us your tattoo,” Leon grins remembering her showing off the colorful ‘Pow’ tattooed on her butt cheek.

“Jesus, and you did nothing to stop me? Protect my modesty or whatever?”

“I enjoyed the show,” he gives a crooked smile.

She lets out a heavy sigh then opens her arms wide, “Can you carry me home?”

“What? No!” He fights but he knows if she asks again, he’ll do it, he can’t say no to her.

“This wouldn’t be a big deal if you let me build the skybridge between our places,” she sulks, “then Bowie could see his boyfriend any time he wants.”

Leon rolls his eyes and moves to pick her up, hoping it will shut her up.

“My dog is not your cat’s boyfriend.”

She wraps her arms around his shoulders to hold on and Leon feels warm all over. Is hyper-aware of where his hand is gripping her bare thigh, how soft her skin is against his calloused fingers.

“They’re totally obsessed with each other and they don’t have reproductive organs so it’s not like they can commit a crime against nature or anything.”

He just gives a neutral hum in response, trying to enjoy the moment of Chloe in his arms and not let the warmth migrate south. He stops by the door and piles her purse and coat on top of her, covering up the neon underwear she never put back on.

He walks out into the cold and hopes none of their neighbors choose to look outside now. The last thing he needs is a picture of him carrying a commando Chloe back to her house, his brain hurts just thinking about the fallout something like that would cause.

They get into her house, which despite the similar layout looks so different from his own home; all bright colors and loud patterns, nothing matches, yet it all goes together. He would never tell her to her face but he loves it, it feels like a lived-in and well-loved house.

Baron comes to rub up against his legs and he has to gently nudge him away as he carries Chloe up the stairs. He’s only been in her room once before, when painters had come on the wrong day and the fumes made it impossible to take a pre-game nap, he remembers never wanting to leave.

Leon drops her unceremoniously on the bed, his arms shaking a little from carrying her so long. She mumbles something into the blankets as she moves to curl up like a cat in the middle of the bed.

It’s a giant circular bed with a deep blue velvet bedframe and headboard, something you’d imagine seeing in an old Hollywood movie.

Marlene Dietrich.

He remembers Chloe mentioning her during one their first meetings.

Alone in an elevator she just blurted it out, “I love Marlene Dietrich, my dad and I used to watch all her movies.”

“What?” He wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly.

“Marlene Dietrich, she’s German. You’re German,” she scrunched up her eyes and groaned in embarrassment, “never mind just ignore me, I just did that stupid annoying thing where you say the one thing you know about where someone is from as if that means anything to them.”

“Like if I said you’re from Canada and told you I’m a huge fan of Wayne Gretzky or maple syrup.”

“Yeah, though that doesn’t work as well because I actually know Wayne Gretzky and everyone loves maple syrup” she flashed him a smile before exiting the elevator.

Leon shakes himself out of the memory, realizing he’s been zoning out and staring at Chloe for too long, like some kind of creep. She doesn’t seem to acknowledge his presence.

“I always picture your room as more of a sex dungeon.”

“Sex dungeon is down the hall,” she doesn’t skip a beat even through a pounding headache and the comfort of her bed.

“Feel better, I’ll uh- see you later.”

“Wait, when do you head out on the road?”

“Tomorrow.”

She holds out her arms and makes a grabbing motion, “hug for good luck.”

She doesn’t make it easy for him, he has to crawl to the middle of the bed and it’s an awkward hug where his arms can’t quite get around her. But she squeezes him tightly and he wants to just collapse onto the bed and hold her until the rest of the world melts away.

Instead, he presses a kiss to her temple. Maybe lingering a second too long, taking the time to imagine a world where Chloe is waiting for him in her bed, waiting for his kisses and his touch and his love. He pulls away before he gets too deep into his fantasy.

///

Before Chloe was his neighbor or de facto dog sitter or even his unrequited love, she was a face in the crowd he couldn’t escape.

If Edmonton bigwigs stopped by practice or the locker room after a game she was there, with varying levels of enthusiasm. If there was a charity event at a hospital or a school or anywhere, there she was directing people on where to go or hands on a craft. If there was a gala he was forced to go to as a face of the Oilers, there she was dressed to the nines and rubbing elbows.

From what he gathered she worked for a foundation or something, Leon didn’t pay her much mind, though he was curious. She was young, within a year or two of his age, but she could run a room of rich, white men.

She simultaneously fit in and stood out in every crowd and that fascinated Leon, who often felt out of place in the off-ice world hockey had forced him into.

Then at one gala, she was talking to Connor and he found his in. Instead of having an enlightened conversation he was met with a spill of red wine when she turned around quickly as he was walking up. She apologized profusely as Leon could feel the wine drip down his chest.

She insisted on taking care of the dry cleaning, giving Leon the address of her place. When he went to pick up the suit he was greeted with his now-clean suit, a new custom-made suit, and a note:

Thought you could use a spare gala suit in case you run into a drunk socialite who’s ruder than me. I probably owe you dinner too

xo, Chloe Cohn

Suddenly it was clear, she wasn’t just someone who worked for the foundation, she was the name behind it. It was a pretty ubiquitous surname around the city.

All of this to say, it’s why Leon is willingly at a gala event mid-season, any excuse to be in the same room as Chloe.

It’s also come at an especially crucial moment in time because Chloe said she’s taking a break from dating. A first for her, or at least a first since Leon has known her. Making it a perfect time for Leon to double-down on his resolution, without competition from anyone else.

For once, he actually starts to follow through. It’s nothing big: wrapping an arm around her shoulder for casual contact, bringing her flowers to thank her for watching Bowie, sitting closer than normal when they have an evening glass of wine.

It’s pathetically small if he thinks about it, but it’s forward motion so it feels like a breakthrough.

Chloe is across the room wearing gown so deeply purple it’s almost black. While she has a fairly boyish figure, there’s nothing boyish about how she looks in that dress, somehow finding a floor-length dress that can show off too much skin on display to be appropriate for this event. Leon can feel his throat getting dry as he watches her chat up a group.

“If you keep staring like that, all of Edmonton will know you’re in love with her before she does,” Connor laughs as he and Lauren sidle up next to him.

“You’re leering,” Lauren adds, “not that I can blame you, but tone it down in public.”

Leon takes a large swig of his drink in response.

“Hey guys, thanks for coming. Oilers always help donations go up,” Chloe’s brother Peter, the head of whatever enterprises the Cohn family owns, comes up and shakes their hands.

“Of course, happy to help while enjoying an open bar,” Leon jokes and Peter laughs along with him.

“And I assume you’re keeping an eye on my sister,” Lauren chokes on her drink next to them, “lord knows she needs someone to keep the riff raff away.”

“Well- uh,” Leon stutters.

Peter always makes him nervous, he’s almost a decade older than Chloe, making him have a paternal air about him. Leon always has a hard time reading whether he’s being a stern father figure or a joking older brother, his relationship with his own sister is so drastically different.

Peter claps his shoulder, “I’m kidding, many have tried but she’s the only one who can keep herself out of trouble.”

“Stop harassing my neighbor, Petey,” Chloe teases her brother and before cuddling up to Leon, like she’s protecting him from her own sibling.

He looks his sister up and down, “You’re not planning on embarrassing yourself tonight, are you?”

“I apologized about my behavior at your birthday,” she says like a petulant child.

Leon sees Connor and Lauren get pulled away into another conversation and now he’s trapped in this passive aggressive sibling moment.

Her brother just gives her a l look that screams, ‘I’m not mad just disappointed.’

“Besides I have to cause a scandal here and there if I seem too similar to the golden child people might start putting me in charge of more things.”

“And god forbid that happens.”

Leon knows this is a weird gray area between the siblings. Equal parts a long running gag and a major point of contention. Chloe more than happy being in charge of the of the Cohn Foundation and nothing else, while her brother believes she’s smart enough to take on a bigger role in the business-side of the operation.

“And you have to admit, it’s been a while since I caused an ‘incident’, that’s personal growth.”

“The last incident was you bringing a prostitute to dad’s funeral, so no one has forgotten about that one.”

“They were a stripper, not prostitute and I was dating them, Dad had met them and was a fan. And at least in my mourning I didn’t try to marry someone without getting a prenup.”

“Okay truce, Clo,” he holds his hands up in surrender, “But cool it on the champagne, you have a speech to give later. Draisaitl maybe keep an eye on her,” he smirks.

“Leave Leon out of this,” she subtly flips him off before shooing him away to go mingle.

She’s still pressed up against Leon’s side and then looks up and smiles at him like they’re the only ones in the room. He gingerly moves his hand to her waist.

“But actually, maybe keep an eye on me, I do have to talk.”

The warmth connecting them is severed when a voice calls out to Chloe and an older woman goes in for a hug. He hates the feeling of her skin slipping away under his fingers.

“I should have known I’d find you by the dashing Mr. Draisaitl.”

Chloe does a quick intro, stopping Leon from slipping away to another conversation. Though another conversation with a random Edmontonian might be worse than this, the more VIP the person the more likely they seem to give advice on his on-ice performance.

“I just wanted to grab you and let you know Caleb is moving back to Edmonton.”

“Oh.”

Her face loses its emotion and Leon thinks maybe another conversation would be better than this.

“And I was thinking if you were free, you’d help get him reacquainted with the city.”

“Um- I – I could probably find the time,” she stammers, “He’s really moving back? He always said he’d rather die than come back here.”

“People thought you’d never come home, but things change,” there’s something under the woman’s tone that Leon doesn’t like, “I’ll give Caleb your number.”

“Great,” Chloe has a stiff smile as the woman walks off.

As soon as the woman is clearly out of earshot she turns to Leon, “I’m gonna give my little speech now, but do want to share a car home afterwards?”

“Yeah,” he gives a soft smile, hoping it will help relieve some of the tension crossing her face.

Later, they’re waiting for a car to pull around; Chloe leaning into his side trying to combat the cold in her thin dress. She puts more weight on him, like all her exhaustion caught up with her in the distance from the door to the curb. His nerves are singing at the contact.

When they climb into the back of the car Chloe scoots right up next to him, even though she has the whole back seat to spread out in. Leaning her head on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her and pulls her tight.

He wants to ask her about this Caleb guy, but he doesn’t want to pop this bubble they’re in. He needs to enjoy this moment.

If he was braver, he’d seize this moment and confess his love.

///

Turns out Caleb is an ex-boyfriend or the one who got away or something along those lines. Chloe is never completely clear about it.

All Leon knows is he really hates him.

Leon can already feel all his forward progress slipping away and he’s worried with the upcoming road trip that when he comes home Chloe will have a new boyfriend. He’s even more worried that this one might actually last. Caleb has some history and connections Leon doesn’t know he can compete with.

He feels more certain about it when he happens to look up at the jumbotron during their final game of their homestand and sees Chloe squeezing Caleb into her side as she cheers into the camera. They look natural together. Leon takes his anger out on his mouth guard, tensing his jaw.

“She’s wearing your jersey.”

Connor doesn’t normally do small talk on the bench, but he can tell this is not the kind of anger that lights a fire under his teammate and makes him perform better. It’s the kind of frustration that makes Leon unbalanced and erratic.

“I can have Lauren try and get some intel while we’re away.”

It’s not a good solution, but it’s enough for him to loosen his jaw up a little; it gets him back on solid ground.

“So, what’s up with you and that new guy,” Lauren casually asks while on a walk with Lenny and Bowie.

“I don’t know,” Chloe shrugs, getting a little uncomfortable.

“Connor just said you guys were looking cozy on the jumbotron, I thought I’d ask,”

She’s working her best nonchalant tone to make Chloe comfortable enough to spill, it works.

“I’ve been in love with him like my whole life,” she groans like there’s never been anything more embarrassing in the world.

“So, something’s going on then?”

“Yes? No? I don’t know, it’s weird.”

Lauren just nods, encouraging her to go on.

“Little rich girls are supposed to grow up and marry little rich boys and he was so cute and smart that I was always fine with those expectations if it meant I got Caleb in the end. But for him I was never well-behaved or pretty or womanly enough but I just kept coming back and trying again.”

The dogs seem to sense the shift in the mood and whine and look at the women.

“By the end of uni I moved back home and he moved to Toronto and I thought I got passed all of it. But he’s back and it’s been years, we’re full adults, so maybe it’s different this time around.”

“Maybe,” Lauren has worry pooled between her brows, “but maybe it isn’t.”

To say the news puts a damper on Leon’s outlook is an understatement. He has a reputation for being grumpy or brooding, but this is a new level and it’s not going unnoticed. The only consolation is he’s excelling on the ice, it might not be the best coping mechanism but it’s working for him.

However, when he’s off the ice, he’s wallowing in his depression. Currently, it’s taking form in lying face down on his couch for the past 3 hours, not sleeping, not thinking, just in a fugue state.

The doorbell rings.

He’s not expecting anyone so he doesn’t make the effort to move. It rings again and he’s tempted for a second to go check. It’s when he hears a key in the door that he knows it’s Chloe. He still doesn’t move, worried that if he looks at her, he might cry or something.

She sets something down on the coffee table and sits down on the floor in front of him.

“I wanted to check on you, since you’ve been ignoring my texts and then came and took Bowie in the cover of the night.”

“You weren’t home when I got back,” he mutters into the couch.

“Okay, but it’s weird for me not to see you for so long after you come home, just wanted to see if you’re feeling alright,” she gently rubs a hand up and down his shoulder and back.

He finally turns his head to look and can’t help smiling back at her sweet, coy smile.

“Yeah, just the season catching up with me,” the lie feels heavy on his tongue.

“You can’t tell on the ice; you’re playing really well.”

“Thanks,” he sees the bouquet of orange and yellow flowers on the table, “Those for me?”

“Thought it could brighten the place up,” her smile is infectious, “boys deserve pretty things too.”

She’s the only pretty thing he wants, needs.

Leon finally sits up; he hates how much lighter he feels in Chloe’s presence. Ignoring her wasn’t helping him get over anything, just making it worse.

“Wanna hang out and order some food in?” He might as well go all in.

Her smile fades for a second, but she recovers quickly, “I would but–“

“You have plans that’s fine,” a chill runs through his chest.

“Yeah, but I can cancel if you need someone.”

She places a hand on his knee, her touch lights him on fire; he can’t tell if the burn is good or bad.

“No, don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure? It’s really not a problem.”

“Really, it’s fine.”

“Okay, another time then,” she uses his knees to help herself up and gives him a quick peck on the cheek, “soon.”

“Yeah, soon.”

///

He doesn’t really mean soon with any gumption, but he comes when she calls like a puppy.

Not that he could really turn this down: it’s for a kid.

He comes into the Cohn wing of the children’s hospital, he’s not wearing any Oiler gear he doesn’t want to be too noticeable, when he sees Chloe making faces against the glass of a kid’s room.

He can’t help the warm feeling that grows in his chest, or the husky laugh he lets out.

“Oh hey, you made it!” she makes one more face, and the child on the other side of the glass kisses her nose.

It’s the last thing he needs to see while he’s trying to “get over” her, not that he’ll ever actually get over her. But it’s hard not to feel something stir in his chest when he sees how much she cares about people. She could just live her life as a rich heiress and instead she’s here.

She walks over and gives him a big hug, “I know that this isn’t the ideal way to spend an off day, but it really means a lot to me.”

“Happy to help.”

“She’s down this way,” she grabs his hand to pull him along and it takes all his concentration to stop from flinching at the electric current between them.

She stops him just outside of the door and peers around the corner, “Hey May… I have a surprise for you.”

“A kidney?” The little voice responds.

Leon’s heart breaks a little.

“Okay sorry, I might have come on a little strong, but I promise it’s a really good surprise,” she walks further into the and waves Leon to follow him.

When he rounds the corner the little girl’s eyes bug out of her head. Leon can’t help but grin.

“Hi May, good to see you again.”

She stares in awe for a few seconds longer before running up and giving him a hug. Leon feels his back strain when he bends down so he picks her up to squeeze her tight.

Leon had met her a few times at Oilers visits, she’s obsessed with Bowie and therefore a little obsessed with his owner. When Chloe had learned this information, she got the young girl a stuffed dog that look remarkably like Bowie, forcing Leon to sign a little note in a locket the dog wore around its collar.

He sets the girl down and she starts talking a mile a minute.

“Did Chloe give you the picture of us?”

“Yeah, I have it on my fridge so I see it almost every morning.”

May had autographed the photo of the pair coloring around Christmas. It was stuck to his fridge under a Köln magnet; partly because it was cute and partly because Chloe thought it was ‘so fucking cute, this little girl is melting your icy heart.’

Leon shows May about 1,000 pictures of Bowie, he doesn’t want admit he loves when he can show off the dog, most people would get bored after a couple.

“Maybe when I get out of the hospital I can meet him,” May has a pair of eyes that could put Bowie’s to shame.

“You have yourself a deal,” Leon shakes her hand, exaggeratingly shaking her arm until she dissolves into giggles.

The soft, loving smile on Chloe’s face is a bit of a bonus, too.

The trio plays a few card games, he can’t help but notice the stupid grin Chloe gets every once in a while, reading a text, he tries to power through without getting too angry.

“Chloe are you sure you can’t give me a kidney?”

Leon has half a mind to forfeit the rest of his season to give her one of his.

“If I had a spare kidney to give I would,” she gives a sad smile, “but you know nurse Jordy?”

The little girl nods, squeezing stuffed Bowie closer to her.

“I gave him one of my kidneys when he was 12, and look at him now! He’s healthy and he’s helping you guys out and that’s gonna be you next.”

“I don’t want to be a nurse,” she pouts, picking up on a specific detail like only a child can.

“You don’t have to be, but a new kidney is heading your way and you’re gonna get healthy and strong like him.”

That seems to appease her, until it’s time to say good bye. She gets a bit teary and it makes Leon never want to leave.

“Thanks again for doing that,” Chloe says as she walks to the parking garage with Leon.

“Of course, she’s a sweet kid.”

Chloe’s phone buzzes and she’s quick to open the notification, that goofy grin spreading across her face.

Since he’s a glutton for punishment he asks, “who’s got you smiling like that?

“Just Caleb, he’s so stupid,” her tone has too much adoration in it.

“Say hi to your boyfriend for me.”

He doesn’t mean for it to sound so brusque; he just can’t help it. He hates how his blood boils thinking about it, how he wants to be the one that makes her smile like that to herself, like the joy is bursting out of her.

She pinches her lips together and narrows her eyes at Leon, “it’s not–“

She pauses to like she’s needs to rethink her phrasing, instead she just rolls her eyes and gives him a little shove.

Leon gets in his car and drives home angry.

///

He doesn’t consistently pick up on the road, but he does on this trip. Two nights in a row.

The first night it’s a woman who looks too much like Chloe. He thought it would be therapeutic, despite the looks Connor gave him as he left the bar with her. It’s not. That’s what he gets for not following Connor’s advice, even non-verbal advice.

Her eyes are the same shade of light brown as Chloe’s, he has to turn her over to avoid any eye contact. But her hair still reminds him of Chloe’s and he fucks her fast and rough, just to feel angry, to feel anything.

The next night he picks up a woman who looks nothing like Chloe. She’s all tits and ass and that fake shyness that comes with trying too hard to be pliant and agreeable. Leon lets her spend the night, to give himself the illusion of intimacy.

They have an off day the next day, so he fucks her again then takes a nap after she leaves.

He’s debating whether to be social and go out to dinner with the guys or stay in and order room service so he doesn’t have to sulk in front of anyone.

There’s a knock on the door and he’s a little grateful that the decision seems to be made for him.

What he’s not expecting is for Chloe to be on the other side, wide Cheshire grin. She’s wearing a long white winter coat and a dress that’s far too short for the weather, a pair of thigh high boots leaving a sliver of bare skin visible.

“You gonna let me in or what?”

He wants to ask how she knew his room number, but he can guess: Connor. So, he skips to the next question.

“What are you doing here?”

“I had business in town”

Leon steps aside, she breezes past, the smell of stale wine wafts past him.

“And that involves getting drunk?”

“Yeah, it’s called a business lunch,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world

She picks up the pair of underwear the girl apparently left behind and twirls it around her finger, “you apparently had some business too, good for you.”

He feels his ears turn red and watches her sit on the edge of the bed, he leans against the hotel dresser to keep his distance.

“Seriously, Clo, why are you here?” he points to the ground to make it clear that he means this place, right now.

“I wanted to take you to dinner.”

“I was just gonna order in…”

“C’mon let me take you to a fancy schmancy dinner, my treat.”

“I can pay for my own dinner.”

“We get it, you’re rich too, whatever. it’s been a while since we hung out, just the two of us. So please let me take you to dinner,” she sticks out her bottom lip and bats her eyelashes.

He groans in defeat, though he wishes he had more will power to make her beg a little longer.

“Great, wear this sweater I bought you,” she holds out the shopping bag she brought.

He furrows his brows and pulls out the sweater, it’s a deep teal color and maybe the softest thing he’s ever felt.

“You don’t own enough colors, and this will bring out your eyes.”

“Thanks, for the gift and the insult.”

“Shut up and get dressed,” she rolls her eyes.

When he comes back out of the bathroom, Chloe is laying back on the bed texting. Her legs dangle off the edge and her dress rising dangerously high. It takes everything in him to stop himself from pushing between her leg and taking her apart until she’s saying his name and forgetting that there’s anyone else in the world.

She notices him borderline lurking and sits up on her elbows, “looking good Draisaitl, ready to go?”

He shrugs eating in still seems like the better option.

They end up at a restaurant that is probably still too fancy for what either of them are wearing, but the hostess knows who Chloe is before she even gives a name, so he guesses it’s okay.

“Miss Cohn, we’ll bring your dad’s vintage out to you.”

“Sounds great, thank you,” she smiles and waits for the hostess to be out of ear shot, “my dad like bought up a bunch of wine he liked at a bunch of different restaurants, I don’t know what it is but they’re usually good.”

Leon shrugs, just going with flow.

“He obviously thought he would leave much longer than he did, cause they still give me bottles like 5 years after he’s died, and he drank heavily and smoked cigars so he had no business thinking he’d live into his late 90s.”

Leon loves when she talks about her dad, loves the soft face she gets when she talks about him.

He died before Leon was even in the picture, but it feels like he’s getting a peek behind the curtain when she opens up about him, their bittersweet relationship that came with the 70-year age gap, yet didn’t change the love between them.

A waiter comes by and pours them each a glass of red wine.

“I guess cheers to your dad then,” Leon smiles.

“Yeah, cheers,” they clink glasses.

“Chloe, what are the odds,” Leon stiffens at the sight of Caleb coming by with a glass of dark liquor.

“Caleb hey,” she stands up to hug him, “what are you doing here?”

“Tying up some loose business ends in Toronto, why am I surprised you got a table here on short notice,” he doesn’t even turn to acknowledge Leon, and Leon drains his glass of assumably insanely expensive wine in one gulp.

He pulls out an unoccupied chair at the table, “Yeah, um do you want to join us?”

“Sure Chloe, thanks,” he says as if he didn’t force himself onto their dinner

Finally, he turns to the other man, “nice to finally meet you Leon, she never shuts up about you.”

Leon can’t help but smirk at that and tries to give his firmest handshake in response.

Leon only hated the idea of Caleb before, but after spending five minutes with him, he just hates the guy. He went out of his way to talk about things Leon didn’t know about like childhood friends and would talk over Chloe when she tried to include him.

Thankfully the waitress came by to take their orders, because Leon is about five seconds from texting Connor to pull the emergency call card for him.

“I’ll have the gnocchi,” Chloe says closing her menu

“That’s a lot of carbs,” Caleb hums, not even looking up from his menu.

Chloe twists her lips to the side, for a second Leon thinks she’s finally going to tell him off.

“Yeah, change that to the branzino.”

Leon had seen Chloe do a lot of things for a relationship, but shrinking herself was always the worst.

“I’ll have the gnocchi and the chef’s salad,” Leon hands his own menu off and winks at Chloe, “you can have some of my gnocchi.”

The rest of the dinner is equally tortuous, and as if he could read his mind Connor calls just as they’re debating another bottle of wine after dinner.

“Sorry to run out but Davo wants to talk,” Leon is out of his seat before he finishes the excuse, and is rushing out of the restaurant before Chloe can get out of her chair to hug him.

///

Chloe comes by his house a few days after the road trip ends, she’s wearing an Oilers sweatshirt he’s pretty sure is his. She looks better in it anyway.

“Have you seen Baron? Caleb doesn’t like cats so I kicked the little guy out last night and he hasn’t come home and I’m getting a little worried,” the panic rises in her voice.

Leon knows where Baron is, he’s cuddle up with Bowie on his dog bed; he let the cat in when he started crying outside his back door. But he doesn’t tell Chloe that, because Caleb hating Baron is somehow the last straw.

“The guy hates your cat, too?”

Chloe taken aback by the comment, with her ‘missing’ cat and all.

“He walks all over you, he tells you what you should eat, and he basically hates your child. Why the fuck are you doing this to yourself, he’s a shitty person.”

“We’re not really together it's–“

“Chloe it doesn’t matter if you’re not actually something, he’s a waste of your time. They’ve all been a waste of your time, you can never pick someone who actually cares about you and I’m sick of watching it!”

“Where is this coming from?”

“You stupid bitch, I love you!”

In his wildest dreams, or nightmares, Leon never thought this is how he’d confess his love: with name-calling. But the words are out there and there’s a weight lifted from his chest.

Chloe blinks too many times, like she’s trying to make a hallucination disappear. She opens her mouth and a strangled sound comes out before she closes it again.

“What?” She finally squeaks out.

“I’m sick of seeing you throw yourself at people who don’t care about treating you right and then breaking your heart because I’m in love with you and I would never do that to you.”

“Wow, and what was that first part? I’m a stupid bitch?” The ghost of a smile graces her lips.

Leon takes a step forward, still not wanting to overstep by touching her, “yeah everyone else thought I was really obvious so I had to say something to get through your thick skull.”

Then his hands are full of Chloe, her arms around his neck, her lips on his, her tongue in his mouth.

It’s everything he’s been wanting for so long he doesn’t know where to start or focus, he wants his lips everywhere, his hands everywhere. His brain malfunctions before he can even figure out where to start, so he just tries to follow Chloe’s lead.

She pulls away and Leon feels his face following, hoping to reconnect. He nearly whimpers at the loss of contact.

When he finally looks at Chloe, she looks a bit frazzled; she’s running a hand through her hair and her eyes look wild.

“I don’t– I don’t love you, because that would be insane,” she’s gesticulating wildly, “since I haven’t thought about us that way.”

Leon feels his heart sink into his stomach.

“But this is something,” she starts to kick off her shoes, “I’d very much like to explore.”

She whips her jacket in the direction of the door and grabs Leon’s face and pulls his lips to hers again. His mind is back online and he pulls her by the hips against him.

Something nags at him before he can get in too deep, “and this isn’t just sex? Cause I can’t do that Clo.”

“No, I mean not that I’ve never thought about it” she attaches her lips to his jaw, “I have eyes and a vibrator, of course I’ve thought a little about it,” she feverishly moves closer to his mouth.

She finally comes up for air and is breathing heavily, she holds Leon’s face and looks him dead in the eye, “But you want what’s best for me and that sounds really good, because I’ve never had that before. And I want what’s best for you too, and maybe I can give that to you.”

Leon feels like his heart might burst out of his chest.

“Really?”

She nods, desperation in the little movements, “And I’d love to talk more about that but that love confession really turned me on and I want to have sex, like right now.”

Leon let’s out a husky laugh, but isn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He lifts her up and almost falls up the stairs in excitement. He’s waited for all of this for so long.

///

Chloe falls back onto the pillow, sweaty and flushed.

“Holy shit,” she turns to look at Leon, running her hand through his sex-rumpled hair, “all those times you said other people are good at sex, you meant yourself?”

“I mean–“ he laughs and turns on his side, wanting to memorize her blissed out face, “I don’t want to brag.”

“No, you should brag. I’ve had sex with a lot of people and that–“

Leon rolls on top of her and covers her mouth, “let’s not talk about your past lovers right now.”

She gives him a quick peck before pushing him off and heading to the bathroom, giving him a bit of a show on the way.

On her way back she hears some scratching at the door, she opens it up and Baron and Bowie come bounding in, jumping up onto the bed.

“Oh my god Baron, you were hiding out here?” she crawls under the covers and pulls the fluffy cat close to kiss.

“Christ, Chloe, we’re still naked.”

She chuckles, “I’m so sorry to scar the children, but Baron has probably seen much worse; he’s a bit of voyeuristic perv.”

“Yeah, well Bowie is innocent,” he laughs while Bowie tries to crawl up to lick his face.

“Look Baron, both our boyfriends live in the same house now, double dates all the time.”

“Boyfriend?” He feels a little woozy hearing Chloe talk like that.

“On a trial basis of course.”

“Of course,” he smirks.

“Cause I’m notoriously bad at this stuff so you might want to rescind the offer after the novelty wears off.”

Leon pulls her into another kiss, because he can and he doesn’t think that will ever get old.

#leon draisaitl #edmonton oilers #leon draisaitl fic #leon draisaitl stories #nhl fic #nhl imagines #edmonton oilers fic #nhl #hockey #hockey imagines #hockey fics #nhl stories

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oh-surprise-its-me · 5 months

Note

Roy/Jamie prompt: Due to some freak accident Jamie takes something super heavy right to the chest, like a weight or a medicine ball. The breath his completely knocked out of him, he's literally knocked off his feet and as he lays there gasping in agony his eyes find Roy and with whatever strength he's got he reaches out to him. A horrified Roy rushes to his side, pleading with Jamie to hang on as the younger man passes out. There's a mad rush to the hospital where Jamie pulls through and isn't actually as hurt as everyone thought. It just scared the crap out of them all, especially Roy who goes uber protective mode as he takes over Jamie's care. It's just the jolt these two need to finally realize what they mean to each other.

Oh he gets the wind knocked out of him. Had that happen to a friend when I was like 9. He fell off a high swing and straight onto his chest. We all thought he needed a hospital was absolutely terrifying.

Roy is frozen for a second before he leaps forward. Jamie is gasping and shaking. He’s clawing at his chest. Roy slams into the ground next to him.

“Jamie? Can you breathe?”

He gets a broken gasp and a shudder in response. “Okay hospital call a squad.” Jamie’s eyes fill with tears. He reaches a hand out towards Roy. Roy takes the hand without thinking. He links their fingers together. “Come on Jamie. You’ll be okay stay awake.” Jamie shakes his head. He starts crying for real and scratching at his chest.

Roy only prays the squad gets here faster

——

Roy has refused to leave Jamie’s side ever since the hospital said he could be discharged. Roy almost fought the doctor who said he could leave. Jamie’s chest was black and blue. He shook when he took his hoodie off. Roy needless to say forced him into a wheelchair to take him to his car.

“Old man shouldn’t the rolls be reversed?” Roy snorts. He can’t help it. He’s just happy to hear Jamie talking and joking again. “We’re going to my house. Be good not a word about the dog.”

Jamie perks up at the mention of a dog. “Dog! Roy you’ve got a dog?? How long? What’s its name? What kind! Why haven’t I known this?” Roy snorts and buckles Jamie’s seatbelt.

“Two months. Frankie. Chihuahua. Cause I hadn’t told you yet. Phoebe wanted a dog. Ruth said if I got one it’d basically be like hers.” Jamie blinks at all the information. “So you got a dog so your niece would be happy? God I love you.”

Roy nearly chokes on the gun he’s chewing. “You’re drugged.” Jamie shakes his head and rests it on the window. “Always loved you. This made me realize I should say it.”

Roy jerks the car into the closest parking lot. He shoves it in park and stares at Jamie. Who understandably looks a little startled. “You fucking muppet. I was going to say that later.” Jamie’s mouth opens and closes. “No the fuck you were not.” Roy grabs his hand and holds on tight. “I love you. I want to date you.”

Jamie’s mouth drops open. He can’t believe it. “You love me like I love you?” Roy smiles. He brings Jamie’s hand up to kiss it. “Hate that it took this to make me say it but yes. I do.” Jamie let’s out a whoop that makes Roy’s head hurt a little.

“Roy Kent loves me. He fucking loves me!” Roy laughs and shifts to drive again when he’s attacked. “Kiss! Now! Now now now now now now.” Roy cuts him off by obeying. Kissing Jamie is nice feels right.

Roy pulls away with a tap to Jamie’s chest. “No strenuous activity for at least a week. Behave.” Jamie whines but Roy ignores him. “I’ll let you get Frankie outfits with my card if you’re good.” Jamie grabs the hand not on the wheel. “Oh I love you.” Roy snorts.

“I love you too.”

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #jamie tartt x roy kent #jamie x roy #royjamie #roy kent x jamie tartt #roy x jamie #mac writes ted lasso #Frankie the oc dog that roy got cause he’s a SUCKER for Phoe

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yoongisugaagust · 2 years

Text

HOME: The First Time

•Sunmary: Min Yoongi meets his forever.

•Warning: Smut

Two achingly long months later you finally find yourself underneath the shirtless man you’ve been dating. The silly, funny, caring man you’ve gotten to know very well.

“You remember right?” He looked down at you waiting for confirmation. “If you’re not ready or it’s too much just tell me, yeah? You nodded reaching to push down his sweats. You were more than prepared to finally get dicked down but you weren’t quite prepared for the sight of Yoongi’s cock to spring out of his sweats.

“Seriously Yoongi? You’ve been keeping this from me this whole time?” He laughed then attached himself to your neck knowing that was weak spot. His hand trailed down to your core to make sure you were ready to take him. He went to work allowing his middle finger to slide up and down finally resting on your clit. He took no time to get you wound up and inserted a single digit inside of you. “Fuck,” you ran your hand through his silky black hair. He added another finger that burned pleasure through every single vein in your body.

“You’re so wet already Y/n I can’t wait to get you off with my cock.” He pumped his fingers into you with more vigor now.

“Yoongi please,” you moaned out.

“Fuck I love the way you moan my name. You ready for my cock baby?” The dirty talk was helping you to get off but you didn’t miss a beat when he called you baby. He aligned himself on top of you waiting for more confirmation from you. “I’m ready,” you granted him permission.

The stretch was more pleasure than pain but feeling his throbbing cock put his fingers to shame. He waited a moment for you to get comfortable leaving sweet kisses from your forehead to your lips. You caught his bottom lip between your lips and lightly sucked letting him know it’s okay to move now.

“Holy shit,” he grunted keeping a steady pace going into you. Your hands roamed over the sides of his body as he watched you with a gentle curiosity. How was it possible for him to feel so strongly about you so soon? Whatever you were doing had him in a chokehold. “I’m coming soon,” he warned. You pulled his face back down to kiss him even more feeling yourself closer to your high yet again.

“Y/n fuck,” you felt his release come in waves and soon enough you were coming just as he was finishing. The hair sticking to his sweaty forehead was endearing in a way that tugged on your heartstrings. You didn’t want to admit it but you can see yourself falling for him and falling for him hard. Lazy kisses tangled with catching your breath, Yoongi stayed on top of you for a few moments.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” He asked still looking over your features in wonder. You nod no as he goes to move off of you. He ties up the used condom disposing of it in the trash bin next to his bed. “We should talk I think.”

“Okay,” you giggle not sure what exactly to expect.

“Ive said I would always be honest with you, right? I told you I’m an idol rapper. You know my schedule is erratic and i just, I can’t give you all of myself right now. Not in the way that I want to.”

You sat up from hearing how serious his voice came across. “I understand, Yoongi.” You got up to move to start getting dressed again taking this conversation as a sign.

“No stay Y/n.” He grabbed your wrist pulling you back into bed with him. “You’re so cute it’s infuriating.” He planted another sweet kiss onto your lips. “A lot of my time goes into my music and my career and that’s usually how I prefer things but with you,” he shook his head and smiled. “I want to be with you but I know it won’t be easy. I can’t guarantee that I’ll always be available to you but I can promise that I’ll give you my best. Fuck that sounds so stupid.”

“Yoon, no” you couldn’t help but laugh at him. “What do you want out of this?”

“You. I just want you. To be with you. It’s just not as easy as it sounds and I want to help you understand what it would be like if you decide you want to be with me too, which if we’re being truthful, I think you do. Hell I hope you do,” he sighed.

“I want to be with you too obviously,” you laughed and rolled your eyes.

“So you’ll be my girlfriend?”

“Am I the only one?” You smile knowingly.

“Yeah you’re the one,” he agreed. He started to lay back down dragging you on top of him allowing you enough space to straddle him and slip him back inside of you.

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that-one-anxious-mango · 1 year

Note

Heyyy ☺️ I love this series sooo much, it is so nice to see Austin stories that involve a black reader. Not having to edit the story in my head to make it fit me is wonderful 🥰. For your Drabble event could you do either first date or a special date that they have had? Thank you 💕 💕

20 Questions.

Summary: It’s a in-house date night with Austin and his best girl. Where you get to know them and they get to know each other!

Contents: Fluff ofc! Mentions of deceased relatives. Little angst if you squint. Slight steaminess. Austin and his best girl being the cutest.

A/N: Hi Beautiful Humans! It’s me! I hope y’all of you are having a wonderful time. Just wanted to go ahead and drop this off for you guys and also give some special shout-outs to:

@pennyroyalcreep for not only this lovely prompt, but also for your continued love and support with my work. ❤️

@purejasmine one of the sweetest people I know and a absolutely amazing writer. Thanks for always supporting and creating.

I also wanna thank @adoreyouusugar , @denised916, and @homebodybirkin2003 whose comments never cease to make me smile.

And to everyone else who I may have missed. THANK YOU. I truly appreciate it.

Moving on I am also officially starting a tag list. As I plan to upload some things this week. So if you’d like to be added please leave a :) in the comments.

Thank you all!

P.S Everyone feel free to PLEASE comment and reblog. Also send me letters with idea and prompts. Love hearing from you all. Much love! * hugs*

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Today was Friday.

Which also meant it was date night.

And with it being quite gloomy outside for the usual LA weather the two of you had decided that it'd be the perfect day to have a in-house date night. You insisted that tonight you would to try and cook for your man a simple meal of grilled cheese and tomato soup.

A skeptical but supportive Austin would go on to happily watch you not only blacken all attempts at the grilled cheese, but also burn the poor tomato soup that you forgot to add enough water to.

And once the tears started rolling, in real Austin fashion he'd wrapped you in a blanket and placed you on the couch promising to return. After cleaning up your food fail he pulled out all the ingredients he needed and made a hell of a good pan of pasta.

After some feeding, cuddling, finger fucking , and napping. The two of you had decided that a more PG-13 activity was in order. With that you suggested a game that you'd been wanting to play with Austin for a while. Let's get deep: 20 question edition.

" Okay. Here we go, number one." You listened to Austin while you giggled staring down at the stacks of cards in front of you and then back up at Austin, who looked on in amusement. " What movie was so sad that you would never watch it again? " He asked.

" Mmmm." You thought for a minute, there were plenty but really you could only narrow it down to two, " I think I would definitely have to say either Dumbo or Fruitvale Station. I can't choose. You can only watch both once." You affirmed.

" Watching Dumbo is a traumatizing experience that no child of any age should be subjected to at all. Like just the first thirty minutes was enough for me to need a lifelong therapist. And as far as Fruitvale Station goes...I feel that the content overview speaks for itself. It's a beautiful movie, but I could barely make it through til the end." You explained.

Austin nodded, " I seen Dumbo a long time ago when I was little and all I remember is this very strong urge to go hug my mom after watching. " He said making you smile, " But I haven't seen Fruitvale Station. No particular reason why, it's just never happened."

" Understandable." You nodded reaching to grab another card off one of the piles.

" My turn. Two. What's the weirdest thing you find attractive in a person?" You moved your eyes to look at him in curiosity.

Almost immediately he said, " People who floss."

Amused in question you went, " Really? Why? "

" Yeah. I don't know. But in a weird way to me. It shows that you care about yourself. Like babe, do you know how many people don't floss. Ever." He explained.

And the more you thought about it, he was right. Gross.

But lucky for you, you didn't have that problem seeing as your upbringing had made you a bit of a dental freak. So you hit all the points in that department.

" Yeah. I guess I see your point. " You said just as a thought passed in your mind, " So, do you find it attractive when I floss." You goofed biting a bit of your upper lip.

Laughing at you he leaned over to plant a hardy peck to your lips, pulling away to say, " Makes my dick jump every time, sweetheart." He half whispered sending the two of you into a short fit of laughter.

" Alright alright alright. Next. Three. " He moved to pick up a card, " Describe our relationship in three words." He asked.

Even though you had to think a bit, it didn't take you long before you had your three words, " Meaningful.....Honest.... Adaptive. " You answered.

Eyes glimmering in happiness and satisfaction Austin questioned, " I know these are suppose to be short but, care to elaborate please."

" Well, I feel it's meaningful because literally almost everything we do has some type of meaning behind it. Like when you got me the fern. Or when I gave you the blanket. There's always some type of love behind everything. Plus you mean so much to me and in-turn I mean so much to you, which I guess in general terms makes us meaningful..right?" You giggled trying your best to explain your thoughts in the best way you could.

But Austin understood what you meant, he felt his heart swelling bigger and bigger by the moment, " I see. So what about honest?"

" I feel our relationship is also built around honesty. I know I've told you this before but throughout my life I've encountered a great deal of liars and that's something that I really didn't wanna come into my adult life with. Unavoidable I know. And especially in a relationship. " You began, " But with you, from the day that we sat down, listening to you be so open and honest with me when at the time I was just a complete stranger to you. It made me feel something. And from then on I've never ever had to second guess anything or feel like your keeping things from me. It's refreshing and I value that." You explained.

Austin listened intently thinking back to the first hours the two of you had spent together talking after he'd finished reading you the book. Hearing you talk about how surprised you were hearing Austin talk the way he did shocked him a bit. He hadn't really ever realized just how personal the two of you had gotten in that short amount of time. But to him now, that was just proof that this was something special from the start.

" And finally I think we're adaptive because whether it be your schedule or mine that keeps up from doing traditional couples stuff. We make it work. We adapt to whatever challenge we face together. And that's important." You finished offering a smile.

Austin return your feeling of content displaying a smile of his own. He was so happy to be with you. And to be building the kind of relationship where it's foundations were things like these. Things that would help the two of you last, because all in all. That was goal.

" I think all of that is really accurate and beautiful, mama. I love you." He said reaching for your hand to bring it to his lips and press a gentle kiss to it.

" I love you, Aus." You returned reaching that same hand to palm his cheek.

The two of you continued your little moment before moving forward.

" Number four. Name something that you wish you could do but can't." You asked.

Teasing Austin said, " Gain the ability to say no to you."

You rolled your eyes playfully. " Be serious, Austin."

Laughing some more he says, " I am being serious, woman. You have no idea the power you hold over me. It's like you just know all you have to do is bat those pretty lashes at me and say please, to turn me into a sucker." He informed.

Your smile widen, " Really? "

Austin nodded leaning back against the couch, " Awe don't be coy. Really, mama."

You sounded a ' Hmmph '.

" Well I'll just have to keep that in mind then, huh?" You said shooting him a glance.

Smirking he replied, " Don't go getting too many good ideas."

" I won't."

With that he leaned up to send a squeeze to your thigh before reaching and grabbing another card.

" Mm. This is a good one." Austin's lips twitched up into a smirk while he shot you a look.

" Oh god." You laughed rolling your eyes, " Dare I ask? "

" Yes, please dare." He wiggled his eyebrows and you laughed, " Go ahead then."

" Five, If there's a particular part of you I should touch to get you in the mood. Where would it be?" He questioned.

Playfully humming while placing your pointer finger to the corner of your lips, the curiosity of wanting to know where he thought it was himself popped in," Before I answer where do you think it is, Mr. Butler?"

" Well, honey." He sighed leaning back against the couch," Based on months of bountiful research and exhausting observations. I'd have to say it'd be your neck."

Dammit.

He was right. You loved when he touched your neck. It always left you breathless in more ways than one.

" You sure, " You challenged figuring to keep your cool," Because if I recall your always touching my thighs."

And it was true. If the two of you were laying down to read or watch a movie Austin either had to have his head rested in your lap or hands stuffed between the crevices of your thighs. In the car, Austin only drove with his left hand because his right was specially reserved for your thigh. Whenever your being a little bratty or you say something about yourself that Austin isn't fond of, you better believe he is going to send a good little pinch to your thigh before kissing the spot all better.

" That's because their my particular part of you that gets me in the mood." He informed looking at you while gliding a singular finger up your thigh to the hemline of the shorts you wore. Still never dropping eye contact he continued, " But I know it's your neck because whenever we make love and I run my hand across your neck or decide to take a good little grip on it. That my love, is when you come for me the hardest." He finished.

By now that same finger had turned into a full hand that had found it's way up to get a nice gentle but firm hold on your neck. He softly used it to pull you to him and place a nice sloppy kiss to your lips making a moan release from your throat.

Pulling back he let go with a smug grin on his face to your annoyed but disheveled expression before motioning for you to draw a card while you tried to collect yourself.

Once you had settled the waves below, you a bit shakily grab the next card, clearing your throat, " Okay. Six. What is one activity that makes you feel alive?"

Without a doubt Austin knew his answer, " Easy. Horseback riding. Nothing like making that bond with a horse, the trust you build with them is pure. And then being out and open with nature. Clearing your mind and body. It's refreshing." He explained. " I think that's why filming The Shannara Chronicles was one of my favorite projects so far." He furthered grabbing a sip of the Yerbamate on the table.

" Yep and I'll have to take your word for it, babe." You quickly chirped making Austin sigh.

Ever since you and Austin had stumbled on the topic of horseback riding one day and you had revealed to him that while you thought horses were absolutely majestic and beautiful from a distance, under no circumstances would you ever consider getting on one. Period. And to him this was a great injustice...almost as big as when you told him you didn't like PB & J's.

You shuddered at the thought.

" Baby for the thousandth time. I'm telling you it's not as scary as you think it is. And you won't know until you try it. That thing with the girl was just a freak accident. That's a exception." Austin tried to argue but still you just shook your head unphased. You knew what you'd witnessed all those years back and you were good.

" Austin." You started, " The poor girl broke her back and part of her collarbone after one of them threw her off and fell on her. I seen it happen. It's like he WWE smushed her ass on the ground." You recalled watching a friend of a friend in high-school's scary interaction with the creature. It was terrifying. " Plus I'm pretty sure that she wasn't exactly ever the same in the membrane after that either." You added thinking about some of the antics the girl had gotten into post injury.

Austin blew out a breath, " Honey, while I think the situation is terrible. I'm pretty sure there was other factors that went into the happening. But I'm telling you that it's not normally like that. You just have to trust yourself and the horse."

Hearing him you still you were unchanged and really wanting to chance the topic so you came up with the compromise, " Okay okay okay. I hear you, Aus. And I'll think about it some more okay." You suggested shooting him a look to send the message that you were ready to move on.

Taking the hint he settled for what you were giving with a somber smile and moved to pick up another card, " So the next one is a little heavier, if that's alright?" Austin questioned staring down at the card.

Feeling like you could fully trust him you nodded, " Go head, babe." You prompted preparing yourself.

" Seven, in your opinion which is worse. Emotional or physical cheating? " He asked looking directly into your eye line.

" Oh." You spoke. It wasn't like you couldn't answer or that this wasn't something the two of you hadn't discussed. It was just a bit of a uncomfortable topic was all.

" Well being honest..." You trailed looking over to his face that was locked in on yours.

" Yeah." Austin encouraged.

Taking a second to collect your thoughts you began, " Like I said before, cheating no matter what is a deal breaker for me. But, being honest I think their equally as bad in opinion. I know anyone can argue it anyway. But the way I see it is that it takes something emotional in the first place to drive someone to cheat physically. I feel like if we're in a exclusive relationship where we're trusting and committing our bodies to only each other and you go and share that part of you with someone else it's a betrayal. And same thing with emotional. If we're in a relationship and I'm giving my all to let you know that there isn't anything that you should feel like you can't come to me about, and you still go and share those parts with someone else. That's also pretty bad so..." You finished looking him directly in eye.

Austin nodded taking in what you were saying completely. This wasn't his first time hearing you express your expectations when it came to this type of dishonesty, but it was good to hear again all the same, " I hundred precent agree with everything you've said. And vice versa over here. I think our communication is good enough to where we can communicate our needs effectively to each other. But I still want you to know that we're never going to get to that point, honey. That's one of the reasons that ring is on your finger. It's a promise." Austin sincerely confessed making your heart expand.

You peaked down at the promise ring on your finger and then back at Austin.

" I know."

" Good."

" Alrighty moving on. Eight. Is applesauce suppose to be warm or cold? " You posed.

" Cold." Austin immediately responded, " That's the only right answer."

You nodded, " I whole-heartedly agree. And I'm glad to know that you aren't a nutjob. "

" Noted. Next." Austin laughed picked up a card, " Nine. What is something that you wanna like but just can't? "

You sighed in faked despair, " Saunas. I really wanted to be that girl. The insta-fit chick that has the whole sauna self care bit going. But I realized how much I really don't like being sweaty unless absolutely necessary. " You informed to a smirking Austin.

Before he could open his mouth you reiterated, " I SAID ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY."

His hands shot up in defense while he snickered, " All I was going to ask was if you wanted to get sweaty later. But seeing as that wouldn't be absolutely necessary. I guess not." He shrugged.

Smacking your teeth you grabbed a pillow to childishly toss at Austin while you tell him that getting sweaty with him will always be absolutely necessary in your book. " I'll hold you to that." He says shooting you the infamous look.

" Look forward to it. But first we have to finish this before we start something else, " You remind him picking up a new card, " Ten. Name the most fond memory you have with your moth-" You stopped mid- question instantly regretting asking, you hadn't meant to bring it up. Idiot.

Quickly you tried to shift and grab another card while shooting him a sympathetic look, " I'm sorry, babe. I- I should have read the card in my head before I read it out lo-"

But he halted your movement softly grabbing your hand, " It's okay It's alright, B-"

" No, Austin it's not I sho-"

" You should just go ahead and let me answer. I promise it's okay. Matter of fact..I want to." He said holding your eye contact to show you he was sincere until you agreed leaning back.

" I know I've said this in interviews before, but growing up not to faraway from Disney and Knotts Berry, my mom and I would go all the time. Finish all my homework earlier in the day and then drive over. We used to spend hours riding the rides or just sitting on the park benches and talking. Because I was so shy and homeschooled on top of it she was bestfriend. I could sit and talk to her about anything....God I miss her." Austin reminisced bringing a smile to his face. You could see the tears forming in his eyes and in return yours did the same.

Instinctively you reached out to him which he accepted offering you a spot on his lap.

You held onto him in silence drinking in his warmth and touch while enjoying the quiet comfort you were offering through the silent intimacy. The two of you stayed just like that for awhile. Your head against his chest listening to the melody of his heartbeat and feeling the weight of his head rested on yours. His hands ran up and down your spine gripping and rubbing.

You felt oddly harmonious with each other.

The two of you stayed like that before you let go when the brilliant idea of desert popped in your mind. Remembering that Beatrice had dropped off a royal raspberry drizzle cheesecake. You went to the kitchen coming back with two plates carrying carefully sliced pieces. You were sure this would lighten the mood.

Austin smiled taking his plate and offering you a " Thank you, baby." And a kiss to the temple.

From there you resumed your game.

" Eleven. What is the most precious or important thing you own? " Austin asked before taking the bite of cheesecake you were offering.

" Um. " You sounded setting the desert plate on the coffee table, " Well, babe. I'm gonna have to cheat a little bit." You confessed.

" Oh. How's that." Austin inquired.

" I'm gonna have to list some things." You confirmed.

Smiling Austin says, " I'll allow it."

" Good. Okay so the most precious and important things I own in no particular order is my promise ring, the blanket my mom made me, our fern, my mother's ring, and my lucky smiley hat." You listed.

" You know I love when you wear that hat." He laughed, " You always look so cute. Remember when you wore it when we went to go see the jazz band in the park. Everyone tried to steal it off of you."

" Yeah it was quite interesting. Having to fight off people with John Coltrane playing in the back."

" But anywho. Twelve, If we were role playing. What would you dress me up as? " You bite your lip waiting on his response. You were extremely curious to hear his answer.

You had to adjust yourself a little bit as you felt the gates to your 'oasis' starting to open up even more than earlier from the way he was looking at you.

" Honestly? " Austin's eyebrow raised.

" Of course. Wouldn't want it any other way." You responded.

" Well, even though it may sound cliché. In my younger years," He laughed, " The whole French maid thing intrigued me for a bit."

Your mouth twitched in a smile, " Know what. I'm not surprised. That checks out."

" What?! What's that suppose to mean? "

You laughed at his playfully offended expression while he clutched his chest, " It means that you seem like a french maid kind of man, babe. Classy. You already have this old school charm to you. So it's on-brand that you'd be into that." You elaborated.

He looked at you a second before saying a simple, " Thats fair. "

Tilting his head at you he continued, " So, if a little french maid outfit just happened to appear in your size around here somewhere. And I called to say my office may need some dusting...would you be willing to oblige." He suggested leaning over and biting at his lip.

You leaned in and said, " Oui."

He groaned and blushed a bit in response moving to grab another card only to laugh when he read it, "Right on topic. Thirteen. How many children do you want someday? "

" Um...uh..well it really depends. When I was younger I always wanted to be like cheaper by the dozen or the mine, yours, and ours family. " You giggled thinking about how you wanted a brood of children to homeschool, make three meals a day for, and be driven absolutely crazy by. But as you got older and life took it's fuzzy fun filter off and you began seeing the true colors of the world, that life started to seem less and less ideal.

You caught Austin's face which was mixed with curiosity and glee. Even though you guys had had some conversations here and there that involved kids he'd never heard this from you before. He was intrigued, "Seriously you wanted twelve kids. You with twelve kids?" He repeated for emphasis.

You laughed, " Yeah. Believe it or not. I like kids and I love my nieces and nephews even though I don't get to see them as much as I'd like. So, in a perfect fantasy world. But being realistic though. I think I would like two or four. I wanna have enough but not too many to where I won't have the energy or the time to give them all as much equal time and attention." You explained.

" I get that. And I like that it's even numbers. So no one will ever be left out of games and they'll be able to pair up when we go out to fairs or do activities." He added with a gleam in his eye.

Austin couldn't lie and say that hadn't thought of what life would be like settling down with you and hearing little footsteps roam the halls. Some could say it was too soon to be thinking about things like that, but he couldn't help. You made him want a future with you.

And vice versa.

" Exactly. Don't want anyone getting lonely." You agreed trying to play off the blush that had captured your face. You pulled a card, " Fourteen. What's your favorite thing about me?" You asked.

" There's so many different things, honey." Austin sighed trying to rack his brain to be able to just pick one thing, and then he said it, " Your unflinching ability to be kind to everyone."

Your twisted up your face, " Really, you think so? "

It wasn't like you were saying that you thought you were mean. I mean sure you did your best to try and be nice and kind to everyone you came across, but you weren't the type to just stick that label to yourself.

" YES REALLY. " Austin emphasized, " You'd literally give anyone the clothes off your back and shoes off your feet. You never cease to amaze me with the grace you have with people even when they don't deserve it. Especially in that situation with the Paps the other week. I know it took a lot not to respond to the name calling and picking but you just kept going and even told the man to have ' a blessed day'." Austin recalled the icky interaction you'd had with paparazzi while out with some friends.

Shaking your head you waved him off, " I just do what I was raised to do. It's a natural thing. Can't sweat that." You said.

And that's exactly what I want you to teach our children. Austin thought.

" Yeah, babe. I know. But it still adds to your amazingness. " He concluded picking a card, " Alright. Fifteen. Where is somewhere you've always wanted to go, but never been? "

Your answer was almost instant, " Italy."

Austin blinked fast smiling, " That was fast."

You shyly grinned, " Yeah I know. I didn't mean to say it that fast but that's my number one. I've just always been fascinated by the food and culture. And I really feel like I wanna go and immerse myself in it. Ya' know experience it for myself." You told him of your dream.

It was true too. You could see yourself having authentic pasta and taking walks along the rivers. Finally trying pure gelato. Visiting different museums and taking rides on the gondola. It might sound like cliché tourist behavior but you wanted it all.

Austin was taking note of how you lit up while talking about the idea of visiting and decided to slip that note into his pocket for later.

Once you'd finished your mini ranting you picked a card, " Sixteen. Name something that you're weirdly good at? "

Austin noodled on the question. Then you watched him grab one of the unused napkins as he started to twist and pinch it in his hands.

Curious you asked, " What're you doing, my sweet baboo? "

Feeling fuzzy at the name he responded, " You'll see. Just wait a second, honey."

So waited and watched him. You found it cute how concentrated he looked.

And before you knew it. He was handing you a beautifully crafted rose napkin.

" Awe Austin." You gushed. " It's so cute. How'd you learn to do that? "

" Ah'. It's just something I randomly picked up once. But I think I've gotten pretty good at it over the years." He said.

" I hope you know I'm going to force you to do this with all our napkins now, right." You teased.

" That's fine. Anything for you, mama." He moved closer to you now wrapping a arm around you.

You didn't know why but him saying that, had made something jump in you. Something hot.

And the closer he got, the more you looked at his face. And the more you looked at his face, the more you wanted to sit on it.

Not being able to help yourself you managed to move in and capture your his lips with yours. They were always so soft.

After a minute almost reluctantly he pulled back catching apart of his breath, " Woah, Mama. Wait a minute. As much as I'd love to keep going. Don't you still wanna finish the game first? " He asked cupping your face with a hand.

"Nope." You popped the P, " Not really." You spoke before pulling him back in. He groaned in your mouth at the added friction you brought by started to grind slowly into his lap.

Still once more he found the strength to move away, " You sure?"

You nodded, but just then a funny little tease came to mind, " Know what. Actually, I do have one last question honey." You said running your against his cheek.

" Go for it, darling."

" Final question. What's your favorite sex position." You questioned positioning yourself up some more. You could see the fire dancing in his eyes and from the way he licked his lips you were sure there were fiery thoughts that accompanied them.

He sighed biting his bottom lip, " Well. If you must know. As old fashion as it may sound. I'd have to say missionary." Taking a squeeze of your ass.

" Why? " You coyly asked.

" Because I like to be able to look you directly in the eye when I make you come over and over again. The faces you make, always looks like art. Care to be my muse? " He asked taking his hand away from your face to move it along down to your throat.

And with that all you could do was nod before you found yourself on your back, on the couch looking a pretty man in the eye while he gave you pretty amazing orgasms.

#austin butler x black! reader #austin butler #dayofourloves #austin butler imagine #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfic #mangoasks #mango answers #austin butler x black reader

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goldenraeofsun · 2 years

Text

Day 18: Tattoos

Dean glances up as the door to Ink it Black opens and a group of giggling women file in, followed by a single dark-haired man.

Internally, Dean groans. He’d already sent his two other artists, Tess and Aaron, home for the day at three-thirty, since it’d been slow since noon. But, of course, an hour before closing, an entire party shows up.

Still, it’s not like he can afford to send customers away. Not on their business margin. “Hey,” he calls, waving to catch their attention. He musters a smile. “How can I help you?”

A waifish redhead wearing a tee shirt that proclaims, When I was a kid, we had nine planets! complete with a crying cartoon Pluto, pushes her way to the front. “We want tattoos!”

Dean’s mouth twitches. “Well, you came to the right place.”

The redhead grins. “I knew Rowena wouldn’t steer us wrong. She might be a stuck up witch, but she has taste.”

“Rowena recommended us?” Dean asks, his eyebrows rising. Rowena had been his client, and his most difficult customer to date, rejecting almost all his designs and nit-picking every detail until it was perfect. A mid-size tattoo that should’ve taken three sessions (two to plan, one to ink) took a goddamn month and a half to finish.

“Yeah,” she says as the rest of her party, scattered around the welcome area, titters. “So, whatcha got for us?”

Dean scratches the back of his neck, sizing up the rest of her posse. Unless he wants to be there until midnight, he’ll have to give them flash ink and be snappy about it. “Hold on a sec,” he says as he ducks back into his cubicle for his binder.

He drops it on the coffee table. “Here’s a sample of what I can do for you. What kind of price are you looking at?”

“It’s not an issue,” she says cheerfully.

“Charlie,” the man rebukes in a low voice.

“What?” Charlie demands, twisting around to glare at him. “It’s my bachelorette party. If I wanna pay for everyone’s tattoo, I will! It’s what Google pays me the big bucks for.”

“In that case,” Dean cuts in, filing all that information away for later, “I’d stick with something small unless you wanna be here until two in the morning.”

“Good call,” Charlie says as she points to a design of a relatively simple crescent moon. “Hey, what do you guys think of this?” As the rest of the party crowds in to take a look, Charlie continues, “It’s a C and a moon, for the Queen of Moons, get it?”

“Very clever,” the man says dryly, not having budged an inch to see the page.

Charlie sticks her tongue out at him. “You’re such a party pooper, Castiel.”

“That’s why I told you not to invite me to this.”

“C’mon, you’re my bestie and my ex! Of course you had to come.”

“You have the strangest idea of what should constitute a bachelorette party,” Castiel says, shaking his head. “Who invites all their exes to their bachelorette party?”

“Someone who is on excellent terms with all her ex-girlfriends and ex-boyfriend,” Charlie retorts without missing a beat.

“We kissed once in fourth grade,” Castiel says, lips pursing. “I still don’t understand how that counts as anything.”

“It counts because I say it does, and it’s my party, so there.”

Castiel holds up his hands. “Far be it from me to tell the queen what is right and what is wrong.”

“Damn straight.” Charlie turns to Dean. “So, can you do it?”

Dean bends over to note exactly which moon design Charlie has chosen. “Yeah,” he says with a nod. “I can make that work.”

Charlie beams.

* * *

After Charlie pays, a lady named Gilda goes first and elects for the moon on her shoulder blade.

Dean gloves up and sterilizes the area, making idle chit chat with the gaggle of women. Yes, they all dated the future bride at one point or another. Apparently it was a lesbian thing?

Gilda winces her way through the flash piece, and Dean offers her a shot halfway through, which she takes with a shudder.

A dirty blonde slip of a woman called Jo hops in his chair and lays back like a pro. As Dean inks the moon on her hip, she proudly shows off the half completed sleeve on her left arm.

Kara gets her moon on her thigh, and Stevie unashamedly strips and gets it squarely on her ass.

Charlie goes next. She pulls off her shirt, and points to the spot below her collarbone. Dean whistles as he catches sight of Leia straddling a 20-sided dice disappearing into the waistband of her jeans.

As he looks back up to Charlie’s sheepish face, she admits, “I was drunk. It was comic con.”

“Been there,” Jo pipes up with a grin. “Luckily my usual place also does cover ups.”

Charlie squints down at her hip, struggling not to move. “I don’t regret it… yet.”

Dean leans in and fires up the tattoo machine. “I wouldn’t. It’s awesome.”

Charlie laughs. “Hey, you’re the professional, not me.”

When she’s done and all bandaged up, Dean stretches. “Alright,” he groans, “come on over, Smurfette.”

It takes Castiel a beat to realize Dean is talking to him.

“Oh, no I’m not getting one,” he says quickly.

Charlie pouts. “Don’t be a chicken.”

Castiel narrows his eyes.

“I don’t bite,” Dean chimes in helpfully, “not unless you ask real nice.”

Charlie guffaws. “Castiel,” she wheedles, “you can always get it removed or covered up once I’m dead.”

Castiel exhales a weighty sigh. “I can’t get a tattoo. The Torah forbids us from etching tattoos on ourselves.”

Dean draws up short as Charlie’s brow furrows.

Aaron had never said anything about taboo tattoos, but Dean’s picked up enough to know Aaron’s relationship with his faith is... complicated, to say the least.

He’s seen photos of Aaron’s folks, and none of them had any obvious tats. Aaron only mentioned one family member having any ink, his great-uncle, and it wasn’t the kind of tattoo German Jews in 1943 got voluntarily.

Aaron has the same number on his arm, to remember his great-uncle, and a Hebrew saying underneath it.

Charlie recovers first, punching Castiel on the shoulder. “Dude, why didn’t you tell me when we decided to do this?”

Castiel shrugs. “Everyone else was in favor of getting tattoos.”

“But you’re now the odd man out…”

“Believe me,” Castiel says dryly, gesturing to Charlie’s other girlfriends, “I already resigned myself to that distinction.”

Dean chuckles as Charlie rolls her eyes.

“I don’t need a tattoo to remind me of our connection,” Castiel finishes.

“Aw,” Charlie simpers as Jo mimes hurling into the small trash can Dean keeps by his chair.

Gilda shoots them all an understanding look, touching the pentacle necklace at her throat.

Stevie and Kara don’t seem to be paying much attention; Stevie is intently inspecting the art Dean hung up on the walls around his chair, pictures of his best work over the years; Kara is studying his wheeled workstation laden with bottles of ink – all closed tight – with all the intensity of Sammy at the dog pound with the instructions to pick one.

“Wait,” Dean says as he bends down to yank open the lowest drawer of his station. “I get that that Torah isn’t cool with etching tattoos – me neither, unless you like a lotta pain – but how about sponging tattoos?”

Castiel tilts his head in confusion as Dean proudly whips out his collection of temporary tattoos. “Excuse me?”

“Aha!” Dean selects one from the small stack, “I knew I had a nature themed one.” He wiggles his eyebrows as he hands it over. “I think this moon’s got your name on it, pal.”

Castiel takes it, his frown deepening. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh!” Charlie peers over his shoulder, “I haven’t seen these since I was, like, eleven.” She turns to Dean, perplexed. “Why…?”

Dean shrugs. “I keep ’em on hand for kids. Sometimes their parents bring them to their sessions, and they’ll light up like a, uh, menorah –”

Castiel shoots him a look like Dean is definitely trying too hard.

“– when they find out they can get a ‘real’ tattoo too.”

“But these aren’t real?” Castiel says, unsure.

Dean shakes his head. “These are better than the cheapo ones at the drug store or Amazon, but they’ll still only last a week, max, before they’ll flake off.”

“Oh,” Castiel says, the corners of his mouth tipping up in a tentative smile. “I had no idea these existed.”

“So what do you say?”

“The moon?” he asks, his gaze flicking to Charlie.

“The moon,” she agrees.

Dean gets to his feet. “I’ll go grab the sponge.”

Castiel’s tattoo, of course, takes the least amount of time out of all of them. They share a lingering look as Castiel touches the tacky skin covered by the temporary tattoo, but Charlie ushers her party out in record time, talking about things to see, people to do.

Alone, Dean cleans up and closes. But, a piece of paper on his chair catches his eye – a business card. On the front is Castiel’s name and company, and on the back, “Please call if you come across any temporary tattoos with bees.”

#suptober22 #destiel #fanfic #destiel fanfic #tattoo artist dean #Jewish castiel #castiel & charlie #meet cute #rae writes fic

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thevindicativevordan · 28 days

Note

Comics this week?

Dealing with some medical issues so I might not be as active for a bit.

Ultimate Spider-Man #3 - Oh Peter, are you even trying to keep your identity a secret? First he all but tells Ben and Jonah that he’s the guy in black the Bugle is focusing on, then he gets outed by Harry because Harry controls his suit’s tech in the wake of taking over Stark’s Company. Hmmm kinda feel like that’s setting up Peter to ditch the picotech and go with a homemade/cloth suit. I’m dying to see how the Parker/Osborn double date goes now that Peter and Harry know each other’s secret identity. How soon before MJ and Gwen find out what their husbands are up to (I was thrilled to see Gwen was married to Harry in 6160). Loved the scene with Peter taking May swinging through the city, that’s muh Spider-Man. MJ and Richard clearly suspect something is up, and with the rate Peter is botching keeping his identity a secret, it's only a matter of time until one or both of them learn what he's been up to.

Tec #1083 - Over the years I’ve grown tired of the “Batman always wins” mantra, but this? This struck a chord with me. Bruce is full of sorrows but no regrets. Batman understanding that he could fail, but choosing to try anyway? Moved me in the same way PKJ recently did with Superman in the Warworld Saga. And I loved the line “people shouldn’t have to look UP for hope and salvation. They should merely have to look AROUND.”

The Flash #7 - Recent medical bills have forced me to drop this.

Incredible Hulk #10 - Decent backstory exposition for the Frozen Charlotte. Not sure if Earls can pull off the kind of fight scene this arc needs though.

#weekly reviews

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whatwouldvalerydo · 1 year

Text

Summary: How long can one director go on with the knowledge of actually knowing who the key is but not wanting to submit him to the curse? As time goes by, can he actually say no?

Warning ⚠️ : mentions of death, cursing, guns

Submitting this as part of @hp-12monthsofmagic challenge as it fits the theme of Anything is possible and new beginnings. Cledwyn Ironwood belongs to the fabulous @that-scouse-wizard

Another cigarette burned against his lips, smoke rapidly filling the small changing room. Closing his eyes, he exhaled deeply, heart rate picking up as he felt the shift in the air.

He was inside the circus.

It was an undoubtable feeling, like nothing else he witnessed before. The curse as if lessening, the weight upon his soul not as heavy as before. He could breathe, he could see clearly, he could feel while the rest of the year everything was pitch black, the sounds howling against his ears, everything shifting yet nothing changing.

He had set his eyes upon the key to his destiny five years ago, or was it six? Time appeared to be different from what Gareth remembered. And remember he hardly could.

As if his former life had been centuries ago.

On years when he felt adventurous he would watch through the thick curtains, barely setting them aside in order to see him as if he were afraid that without them he would leap into the center of the stage and force a destiny no one should have upon him. He did not deserve it.

All his life he worked so hard, a child of many from a family he did not care to know more of. He was a blacksmith, or at least that was his initial trade as rumor had it and Gareth heard far too many inside the circus. But he made the swords and other props, all of them created to perfection no matter how bizarre the director’s tastes were.

Each year Cledwyn would deliver on the agreed date all that was required, payment provided by one of the staff members, Gareth watching from the shadows when he wanted to. When he wished to punish himself more.

Yet he found that he lived for that single moment.

However that year he decided not to. It was punishment enough to have his escape so close, yet he never broke the contract with Cledwyn. He should have. He should have long ago sent him away, turned him around, yet he couldn’t.

“Damn it.” He swore, eyes opening when a knock was heard “What?”

“Sir.” A female voice was heard, small yet she took a second before providing the reason of her visit “Cledwyn Ironwood is requesting to see you personally.”

Getting up from his chair, he opened the door in a swift movement, Angela taking a step back as Gareth towered over her “Well now you know that will not happen child. Tell him I do not…”

“I did.” She interrupted him, eyes averting from his face “He says he and I quote will not take another dime until I meet the director. Sir don’t be mad, please. He means no harm, though he is a tad gruff. A man of few words.”

“Charming, I am certain.” He rolled his eyes “Angela” he said taking a step forward “tell him I am busy. Shagging, drinking, smoking I do not care what you use as an excuse.”

Stealing a glance she nodded “Done, did and also did. He won’t budge, said he will stay in the middle of the tent until tomorrow’s performance.”

“Then he can sleep there. I will even throw in a blanket, a sign of my everlasting adoration for something I cannot have.”

“Why not?” she asked, Gareth’s eyebrows lifting, eyes as if darkening as he leaned in.

“When you will take over, which inevitably you will since I dabble in far too many things to remain in this horrid world for too long, you will understand that you cannot subject someone to such a curse. Or better yet the very idea of not being able to escape life. I am cursed, why should he be?”

Shrugging her shoulders, she smiled “Go and ask him.” With that she dipped her head, Gareth’s mouth swinging open upon seeing his second in command leave. With a loud slam of the door, several voices echoed around the circus, Gareth cursing once more.

Calling over a few women minutes later, he was set on ignoring Cledwyn for as long as possible.

However his presence was still felt by the director, as if a bright light shinned from within the tent and he could not extinguish it. And he could see it even when closing his eyes. It made his mind wander, not being able to focus or shut him out.

Pushing off the woman on his lap, he wrapped a robe around his body, grabbing a few items from his vanity mirror, marching in the middle of the main tent, curtains moving aside as if afraid to stand in his way.

“You called?” Gareth asked annoyed, Cledwyn lifting his hand as his eyes were set on a book sitting in his hands “You cannot be serious.”

“Respect is respect director. And it’s usually earned.” A grave voice left Cledwyn’s throat as he ignored the shiver running down his spine. As if he was being watched from multiple angles, shadows closing in.

“Oh yes, my apologies sir.” He retorted “Please do not be mad.” Gareth added sarcastically “I was busy.”

“Yes, I can smell the cheap perfume and cigarettes.” He said as he flipped a page.

The audacity, Gareth thought, lights going off in an instant, Cledwyn jumping to his feet, eyes wide despite not being able to see through the thick darkness surrounding them. He felt a hand touching his, the sensation sending a heat wave through his veins, an envelope being pressed in the palm of his hand “Payment for the delivery.” Gareth’s voice was heard barely inches from his face, moving in an instant behind him “Hope it is sufficient for all your troubles.”

“Turn the lights back on.”

“No.” laughter was heard a bit further away, however Gareth’s voice still appeared so close, but when Cledwyn fumbled in the darkness trying to reach out to him, he found nothing but the empty air travelling through his trembling fingers “You do not get to play games here, only I. Now answer me, why did you wish to see me? Why insist?”

Cledwyn remained silent, however for as little as he usually spoke, he suddenly found himself wishing to say something, anything really. Being so close to the director, something felt off. More so. It felt as if no other sounds could be heard apart from the blood running through his own veins, the erratic beating of his own heart.

Yet he did not have an answer to the questions addressed. It was far more than curiosity. Deep down it was a sort of odd need to actually see him, up close, to be in his presence and he could not explain for the life of him why.

“The silent type I see.” The lights came back on, sounds as if exploding around them, Gareth coming face to face with Cledwyn causing him to stagger back “Go away. Trust me when I say you do not want to be here, near me.”

“What are you?” the question felt odd the second it felt the confines of his mouth, however he could not take his eyes off him, staring into those deep orbs as if the very sadness of the earth washed over him.

“I am what you want me to be yet I cannot. That is what I am to you. Go.” Gareth spoke softly, hand caressing Cledwyn’s cheek “You cannot be here, not this close to me. You are making it hard enough.”

“What are you?” he found himself asking again, Gareth sighing.

“Cursed. And you mustn’t be. Please.” As he wanted to pull away, Cledwyn grabbed his wrist holding him in place, time as if stopping around him.

“I can feel when you arrive, I can sense you. Why?”

“I cannot tell you.” He violently pulled away “Why, why, why? You will never know because I forbit it. This life is not for you. You deserve more, so much more. Not to be here, not close to me. Angela!” Gareth’s voice roared far louder than it should have been, Cledwyn wincing at the piercing sound against his ear drums.

On command, the woman appeared from behind the curtains, Gareth pointing a shaky finger at Cledwyn while covering his face with his other hand “Take him away. His services are no longer required.”

The woman turned a pair of apologetic eyes, her hand lifting as a silent invitation, guiding the outsider towards the tent’s exit.

“No.” Cledwyn stated taking the envelope of money, throwing it at Gareth’s feet “I don’t care for your money you crazy bastard. I want answers.” Angela gently but firmly placed a hand on his chest as he tried to take a step towards the director, the look in her eyes telling him it was enough.

“You need to trust him.” He heard her utter however the sensation of her touch did not feel the same as Gareth’s. His had power, burned, when hers was normal.

Seeing the director wanting to retreat, Cledwyn gave a force nod, retrieving his bag “See you tomorrow.”

Once alone Gareth shook his head, eyes focusing finally as if a calm washed over him. Inviting Angela inside his tent, he paced around as he held a bottle to his lips, then a cigarette, then alternating. Walking towards his belongings, he pulled out a gun, Angela trembling as she stood in the doorway.

“You know” he stated softly “the curse if different for each and everyone of us. It adjusts. Based on who we are, what we desire, what other curses we accumulated. I never believed I would fare well thus never wished to find my key. Whatever for? Who would want to be with me?”

“Gareth…please.” Tears washed her face, makeup smearing her complexion as he approached her, Angela’s back hitting against the door.

“But you are good, you are pure. And I need to breathe darling, I need air.” Placing the gun in her trembling hands, she closed her eyes as she begged him not to do it “I do not even need to nominate you since you are my second in command. I disappear and you appear. You shall be a new beginning. You shall teach this curse true love, true intentions. You can do it.”

“Please don’t. I can’t. You can do it, you can find love, salvation, the curse isn’t everything.”

“In another life.” He said pressing a kiss to her forehead as he forced her hand to pull the trigger, his body falling limp over hers as she wept.

A new director was born.

A new era.

The very first female director.

#hp12mom #fanfiction #fanfic #fiction #circus au #cledwyn ironwood #gareth farr #angela king

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disasterofastory · 2 years

Text

Secretary (Halfdan x Reader)

Secretary

modern!Halfdan x Reader

Warnings: smut

Summary: You have a chance to show Halfdan you are more than a cute face and shyness.

The building is busy with the approaching deadline. Phone calls ring through the air as you move around the crowd. Conversations mix together until you can't understand them anymore. Your head throbs from the constant noises. You can't feel your legs in the black high heels since your lunch break. You hate it. You hate this day with your whole heart.

The colorful folders are heavy in your arms. The papers are messily tucked in them since you had to leave the meeting room in haste. The coffee you drank during the conference still burns your tongue, and your black skirt is stained because of the icing from the donut you ate. You look like a mess. You feel like a mess.

You take a deep breath as you step into the empty elevator. You close your eyes as the noises fade away when the doors close before you, but your peace doesn't last long. A long arm stops the motion, tugging the elevator's door opens enough to slide in next to you.

Oh. Great.

"Sir," you smile at the blonde man, adjusting the folders in your arms.

"Busy day?" Halfdan asks, smirking as he looks over your form.

"Something like that," you nod, feeling the embarrassment creeping up on your face.

"Hopefully, it will be over soon," he says, and you nod, not knowing what to answer.

"Do you need help with them?" He asks after a while when the elevator arrives on the right floor with a quiet ding.

"No," you shake your head. "I can manage."

The amusement is clear on the blonde man's face, and it doesn't help with your insecurity.

You have had a crush on the man since you applied for the job, and he was there in your interview. He charmed you with his mischievous smirk and flirtatious nature. Your relationship never got further, though. Every damn time he appears, you get tongue-tied and dizzy. And what's worse? You are almost entirely sure that he knows about your feelings. Fortunately, he is usually busy with business travels for his brother, but he is never far enough to give you some time to move on. One moment, you are ready to say yes on a date, and the next, he is next to you, asking about your day. That bastard!

Halfdan walks next to you as you make your way to Harald's office. He opens the door without knocking, letting you in first.

"Y/N," Harald greets you behind his desk. "And brother."

"Sir," you smile at the man, putting down the papers from your arms to adjust them the way you know he likes it.

Now that you don't have to be alone with the blonde brother, you can breathe again. You find your voice as you talk about the business while Halfdan moves around the office behind you, waiting for you to finish.

"You are amazing, Y/N, as always," Harald states.

"That's what I usually say," Halfdan adds.

"Shut it," Your boss answers when he sees your reaction but a small smirk tugging on his lips. "Ask out the lady properly or shut your mouth."

You open your mouth to interfere, but nothing goes out of your throat.

You know the brothers long enough to feel comfortable around them even when they tease you without mercy.

"How could I when she doesn't even dare to look into my eyes for more than a few seconds?" Halfdan asks, stopping next to Harald. Despite his words, his voice is gentle and teasing, and because of the sparkle in his eyes, you don't know you should be mad or embarrassed. But he is right. You are a coward. After three seconds, you look down on the table, making sure everything is in order.

"I should get going," you croak.

"I will kick your ass one day." You hear Harald's voice as you close the door behind you.

"Oh, come on, she is cute," Halfdan answers.

The deal between your boss and the Lothbroks ends well, letting everybody breathe and relax.

The week before the party is slow and calm. Your co-workers are busy talking about the well-deserved celebration. You enjoy the slowness of the office, but the party brings different feelings out of you. And you definitely know the reason why.

"Hey, Y/N," Halfdan greets you at the entrance of the building. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," you answer. "And you? I thought you were in Paris."

"And skip the party?" He asks, smirking. "No way."

You smile, nodding and taking out your phone to seem busy.

"You are coming, right?"

"Yes," you nod. "Harald wants to introduce me to the Lothbroks."

"Always about the business," he sighs. "You should live a little."

"I… I live," you sputter out, surprised at his words.

Halfdan just nods, smirking at the fact that he disturbed you once again.

"You could wear something black," he adds, the annoying smirk still on his annoyingly handsome face.

Yeah, you definitely won't wear black.

The night of the party comes in a blink of an eye, and before you know it, you stand at the edge of your bed, staring at the red dress laying on the sheets.

The fabric follows the line of your body. It shows enough skin to make you uncomfortable because of the new look but not enough to make you change your mind. You even went to a hairstylist earlier today to freshen up your color, and you watched a ton of youtube videos about makeups for the occasion.

Okay.

You will be fine.

You barely recognize your workplace. Everything is decorated and lit for the night, and the moment you step into the building, your co-workers whisk you away to the bar. They are excited and relaxed after the hard weeks of working. The music is loud in the background, you can see a few familiar faces on the dance floor.

"And there is Y/N," you hear your name not far from the bar. You turn your head to find the source as your eyes meet with Harald's wide smile.

"Sir," you stand up to greet him when he motions to join him. Halfdan stands at his side with a glass of whiskey.

"Come, love," Your boss says, placing his hand on your shoulder to introduce you to the two men. You only meet with Ragnar and his older son in pictures and articles.

"It's nice to meet you," you smile at them, accepting their hands for a brief shake.

"We heard a lot about you," Ragnar says. His voice is gentle, but there is a cheeky glint in his blue eyes. "One more praise from Harald, and I have to offer you a place in my company," he continues, glancing at the man beside you with a teasing smirk.

"Not if I have a say in it," Halfdan says, and the moment he glances at you with a smirk playing on his lips, you can feel the heat creeping up to your neck and face.

"I think this is my clue to join my friends," you speak up, smiling at the men politely. "Have a nice night."

The night goes without any incident. Your friends keep you busy, dragging you to the dance floor and back to the bar. You feel hot from the alcohol you drank, and your legs hurt until you have to reject your friends' invitation for another song.

You ask for another glass of wine from the bartender, enjoying the peace until Halfdan appears behind you.

"You look stunning," he says, leaning close to you as he sits down.

"Thank you," you smile at him, much braver than usual. The alcohol in your system works just fine. "You don't look too bad yourself," you add. And you are right. He wears simple jeans with a black shirt which is pulled up to his elbows.

"How's your night?" He asks, watching you the whole time.

"Great," you smile excitedly. "I can't feel my legs anymore."

You reach out your legs, showing off the black heels you chose for the night. Halfdan's eyes run up and down on your bare skin, stopping at the edge of the dress.

"Worth it, if you ask me," he says, glancing up into your eyes, drinking.

"Well, you don't have to go home in them," you argue, and you regret your words the minute you see the familiar smirk on his lips behind the glass.

"I can help you with that," he offers. "I was told I'm a good masseur."

"Don't tempt me," you answer, your pulse jumping at your own words.

"I can show you," he replies, standing up from his seat, offering his hand to you.

For a second, you just stare at his long fingers and strong arm, imagining his touch on you.

You accept his hands, but the uncertainty is still shown in your eyes. The blonde man pulls you up, close to himself.

"You don't have to, Y/N," he says. His voice is void of teasing. He seems serious as he stares into your eyes, making sure you understand him. "I don't want you to agree on something because you are afraid of losing your job. We are two adults, and no matter what, it has nothing to do with work. You understand?"

You can't help but smile like a love-sick idiot. His words are gentle but stern.

"Two adults in a party," you nod. "I can do that."

Halfdan watches you for a few more seconds, making sure you really understand him. You squeeze his hand, and he kisses your forehead before leading you up to his office. The music becomes muffled through the floors.

"More wine?" He asks, motioning you to sit on the couch while he serves more drinks for you.

While he is busy with the glasses, you try to clear your head for a few seconds. You don't want to do something you may regret tomorrow. You watch his back. Despite the shirt, you can see his lean muscles through the thin fabric. And you really, really want him.

"Thank you," you smile at him, accepting the glass as he sits down next to you.

He seems much relaxed now that you are far from the crowd and noises. He leans back, sipping from his whiskey.

"I hope I don't have to be afraid that you'll leave us for the Lothbroks."

"I'm loyal," you answer. And your payment is good enough to not think about other offers. Harald and Halfdan are good men who take care of their workers.

"But you really want to talk about business with me right now?" You ask him, smirking.

"You are right," he nods. "I owe you a massage."

He taps his thighs, urging you to put your legs on his lap. You turn to him, taking off your shoes to do as he says.

You forget to breathe for a second when his fingers start to work on your feet. Goosebumps run over your skin, and you can't help but show your legs more, enjoying his warm touch.

"Good?" He asks, smiling at your blissed form.

You hum in answer, closing your eyes. Your mind wanders to different images of him working his fingers somewhere else on your body. You can already feel the dampness between your legs, and your pulse is so high, you are afraid you will have a heart attack. This man will be your death, you are sure of it.

You jump in your seat when his fingers move up on your legs. His blue eyes meet with your wide ones, watching your reaction. His touch is gentle, circling his fingers around your ankles, squeezing it before moving higher to your calf.

"Is it okay?" He asks, staring at you.

You hum again, you can't find your voice. The air around you is hot and heavy. Heat rises under your skin as Halfdan looks over your body.

"I really hoped for something black," he says. "But I can't argue with that dress either. You are beautiful in it."

"Who said I don't wear black?" You question, raising your eyebrow teasingly.

He glances down on your dress once again, trying to see through the soft fabric.

"What could a man like me do to see that?"

With a deep breath and a last sip from the wine, you move your leg from his lap to stand up before him. He watches you without blinking, and soon, the red dress pools around you on the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable in front of his hungry eyes.

The black bra and matching panties are decorated with lace, pushing up and showing every curve of your body.

"Stunning," he whispers, reaching out to your hips to pull you between his legs. His breath is hot against your belly as he kisses the soft skin. His grip is steady, tugging you onto his lap. You brace yourself against his shoulder when he leans closer, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss gets heated soon enough. Your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen, and your lips are swollen from his nibbles.

His hands roam over your body, freeing you from the bra to cup your breasts. He flickers your nipples until they are hard and ready for his mouth. The man kisses down on your neck until he reaches your chest, sucking and licking on the hard buds with equal fever.

Your fingers tangle between his blonde locks, pulling on roots when he bites into the soft flesh of your breast.

"Halfdan," you croak his name, arching your back to get closer to him. His jeans-covered erection is pressed against your thigh.

"I have to confess," Halfdan says breathlessly. "I have something in my mind, and I can't shake it out of my head."

"What is it?" You ask him, cupping his cheeks.

"You, on my table," he replies, and you squeeze your thigh with him between them, trying to suppress the image.

"Okay," you nod, standing up from his lap almost hurriedly.

You turn your back to him, feeling his burning gaze on your bottom as you position yourself on his table. Shaking your hips teasingly, you look back at him over your shoulder. The blonde man just sits on the couch for long moments, enjoying the view with an obvious bulge under the jeans. When he stands up after a while, excitement runs through your body. You can already feel the tightness in your belly, and you almost jump when his hand smooths down on your hips, playing with the edge of your panties.

"So pretty," he says. "I always imagined you like this," he continues, pushing you down on the wooden surface, running his finger over the line of your spine.

Pushing his covered crotch against your core, he starts to move with slow motions, rubbing his erection against the dark patch on your panties. The rough fabric of his jeans gives you enough friction, but soon, the satisfaction turns into greed. An impatient mewl leaves your lips as you push yourself back to meet his thrusts.

"Please," you tell him, your face is still pressed to the table.

"What?" He asks teasingly. "I waited so long for you to say what you really want. Tell me, Y/N, what has been on your mind since we met, huh?"

Despite the alcohol in your system and the provocative position, you feel the embarrassment creeping up to your face. You have to lick your lips a few times to find your words.

"You," you answer. "I want you, Halfdan."

Your answer is too gentle and honest for the situation. He is ready to fuck you on his table in the office where both of you worked for years, and here you are, your tone betrays your feelings for your boss.

"As you wish," he says.

The change between you can be felt in the air. His grip on you softens, he caresses your bare skin, leaning down to kiss your back and shoulders.

While you are busy with his lips on you, he pushes down his jeans to free himself. His long fingers curl around the base of his shaft, pushing his cock between your folds. His cock becomes wet with your juices in a matter of seconds. Your knees shake, and you are sure you couldn't hold your weight without the table under you.

"Halfdan," you moan his name when he lines up himself at your entrance and thrusts into you slowly and steadily.

You can feel yourself opening up to him. Your walls tighten around his cock, begging for more.

"So good," he says hoarsely, keeping his warm fingers on your hip to steady both of you.

He stops for a second when all of him disappears in your pussy, just simply enjoying the sensation around his length. You are warm and sensitive, he can feel your walls vibrate with his every move.

"You can move," you tell him, spreading your legs more. "Please move, Halfdan."

And he does as you say. The edge of the table is pressed into the soft flesh of your lower tummy. Your whole body bounces on the table in sync with his thrusts. Your bottom jiggles, and your juices wet the black fabric of your panties on the middle of your thigh.

He reaches out to your shoulder, tugging you against his pushes when you can't keep up with him anymore.

The moans and groans die on your throat as your body twitches and shakes from your orgasm. You gush around Halfdan's cock, sucking him in until he has to step back to not cum in you at the last moment.

"Y/N," he croaks your name, tugging on his length a few times as he comes on your ass and waist. His hot seed splashes on your skin while you are still too busy with the aftershock. Your breath is heavy, and you can feel the sweat between your breasts.

Both of you need time to clear your minds. The office seems too quiet when none of your moans can be heard anymore.

"Stay," he says, pushing you down back on the table when you begin to get up. He shuffles behind you a bit until you can feel him wiping off his cum from your skin.

"Thanks," you tell him, getting up and turning to him but not meeting his eyes.

"Oh, don't be shy after this," he says cheerfully, tugging your naked body against his. His skin is sweaty and warm. Your face is smashed against his chest, and your arms wrap around his waist.

"How about we go and eat something?" He asks, caressing your messy hair. "And you could spend the night at my place if you are comfortable with it."

"Sounds good," you nod, pecking his shoulder before you move away to get dressed.

Halfdan can't help but smirk as he watches you. Maybe you are more than a sweet face and a shy demeanor.

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