#harrison x oc

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

A Khan By Any Other Name

a prequel to Star Trek: Into Darkness

mystery, suspense, danger ~ romance & NSFW material to follow

summary: Seraphina DiPietro is wise in the ways of the world of world; she has to be, as she travels the California coast as a torch singer in pubs, bars, and nightclubs. She knows how to take care of herself and stay out of trouble--most of the time. When trouble comes, it's usually because she lets her kind heart overrule her common sense. Stopping to check on a handsome stranger stranded roadside in the Mojave Desert, her curiousity is piqued as much by his classic, mint-looking Mustang, as by its driver--a tall, dark, mysterious drink of water, whom she quickly learns is so much more than he appears.

characters: Khan Noonien Singh (aka: John Harrison), Seraphina DiPietro (OC)

word count: 2.4k

Chapter One

Her first mistake had been slowing down to have a second look.  Three plus years with a vintage car enthusiast (her ex now, thank god; three months gone and good riddance to him, her mantra whenever he crossed her mind) had ingrained the habit in her. The habit, frankly, plus an appreciative eye for the sweetest of rides.  Thanks to Simon (and his obsession), she could distinguish in seconds between the genuine article and that which easily fooled the masses, a cunningly detailed replica—and the sleek ragtop that looked to have skidded to the side of the road, leaving a spray a gravel and black, burnt rubber in its tracks, was absolutely the real thing.

So she’d slowed down, only half meaning to, cataloguing the fine details and quickly estimating its worth, while admiring its classic lines and the bright flash of its chrome detailings.  Seraphina couldn’t keep from grinning, thinking about how instantly covetous Simon would be in the face of such a find, and how jealous he would feel to know that she had stumbled upon it with no effort whatsoever.

The man bending over the open hood

straightened as she passed, arresting her attention with a commanding, steely gaze that left her feeling like a marked woman.  As though he not only saw her, in her every visible feature, but somehow inexplicably knew her—and needed her.  Vitally, and immediately. Despite the lick of common sense apprehension that fluttered through her vitals, simple curiosity and a deeply embedded tendency to act the good Samaritan had Seraphina making her second, even bigger, mistake of the afternoon--pulling over to park her hovercraft several feet in front of his stalled vehicle.

She looked into her rearview mirror; he had turned to watch how she would proceed, holding his hands up with his fingers splayed wide, surely his way of expressing she could approach him safely.  “Not so fast, buddy,” she murmured, “I wasn’t born yesterday…and I’ve seen your kind before.” Sera cut the engine, pulling the keys from the ignition and flicking the lock mechanism off the small can of mace dangling from her keyring.  She wasn’t so foolhardy as to face the tall, well-built stranger unprepared; nearly a decade of travels up and down the coast of California, performing in seedy, small town dives, then upscale pubs and bars, and finally city nightclubs, had taught her well to be ever on her guard.

And she’d learned a few tricks in the course of her career, for if the mace should fail; she could—and had—flipped a drunk onto his back a time or two, who’d tried to cop a feel when she passed across a darkened dancefloor; and she knew all too well how much force was necessary, knee to groin, in order to incapacitate those pigheaded brutes who wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer when they followed her out to the parking lot at the end of a gig. Handsome he might be (decidedly so, she mused, angular features, piercing eyes, thick, dark hair, an errant lock strayed upon his brow; such a striking combination!) but she was not fool enough to ever judge the book by it’s cover.

The stranger stood motionless a moment more, the light breeze ruffling that wayward lock until he brushed it back, a swift yet languid move that spoke of cat-like grace and an elegance that didn’t fit the setting or the way that he was clothed.  He was straight-backed, slim-hipped, long-legged--and poised with a confidence befitting a prince, and not the work-a-day posture of a blue-collar joe or road-weary drifter.  Yet the smile he gave her did not reach his eyes; Sera found it a little feral, and felt her pulse increase as a taste of adrenaline—that trusty “fight or flee” response—hit her system.

But she was already committed, having left the safety and cool comfort of her two-seater; if he was an actual threat, the worse that she could do was show the weakness of timidity now. Sera left her sunglasses in place, determined he would not read a bit of doubt in her eyes or bearing, the can of mace tucked neatly in the palm of her left hand, and walking forward into the dry, baking, Mojave Desert heat.

Sera gave a low but audible whistle, advancing as casually as she could, finally calling out to him, "She's a real beauty--and someone's taken serious loving care of her too." The 300-year-old Mustang appeared as close to mint as any vintage vehicle she had ever seen; given its obvious value, she had to wonder why the hell he would even have it on the road--especially in desert conditions. That instinctive voice of warning sounded an answer in her head: that's because it's not his.

Okay, Sera, she cautioned herself, give him the benefit of the doubt; he could have come by that automobile in any number of ways. She stopped a half-dozen steps from where the stranger stood, aiming to read his reaction as she asked, "Early 21st century, right?"

The man smiled--more sincerely this time--and nodded. "That she is," he replied, sparing a brief look at the stalled car, "Unfortunately, she's not going anywhere, anytime soon." His smooth, deep voice was as pleasant to the ears as his form was easy on his eyes, and his accent distinctly British, leaving Sera to ponder how and why he'd found his way into the midst of the Mojave. "I believe it's the transmission," he added.

In an instant, his eyes flicked downward, as though he registered that small, innocuous movement. She rushed to fill the vacuum of silence that hung between them, hoping to distract him from whatever suspicions her little move might have awakened.  “I know collectors,” she told him, running her right hand through her hair, fluffing it a bit, hoping to draw his eyes upwards again “…fanatical ones, who would pay a small fortune to make such a treasure theirs.”  She leaned toward him, adopting a confidential tone, honest in her curiosity, “However did you manage it?”

Sera could hear the tick of the internal combustion engine as it cooled, informing her he hadn't been stranded long. Surveying the area behind the Mustang, she spotted several telltale puddles of transmission fluid in the car's wake. "Looks like you might've blown a hose," she speculated, indicating the fluid spotting the back trail. "Those kind of parts are few and far between these days...but I bet we can find a mechanic who might be able to juryrig something enough to get you on the road again."

She turned back to find him watching her, his exotic-looking eyes narrowed. Appraising her in a way that made her feel...exposed. Unnerved. Vulnerable. Sera squeezed her hand against the reassuring weight of the small, defensive weapon cupped in her palm.

He inhaled sharply, a fleeting look of calculation crossing his face.  “It was an unexpected…” he paused, studying her carefully, “…but well-timed acquisition of…convenience.”  Such a reply was far too vague to answer her question—but didn’t surprise her in the least.

“Then you must be a man of remarkable luck, Mr…” Sera let her voice trail off with the question, fully expecting there would be little truth in his answer.

And then he was moving past the safe cushion of space between them, extending a large, powerful looking hand towards her, as way of introduction. “Harrison. I’m…John Harrison.” His grip was firm, not too tight, but Sera sensed—felt—a strength restrained that fit his bearing perfectly. Intimidating, but not frightening; confident—and intriguing her beyond her good sense should allow; and his eyes were locked on her, regarding her with such curiosity and healthy appraisal, that she slipped her sunglasses atop her head without a moment’s hesitation, meaning to meet his gaze directly.  

Sera hadn’t realized she was staring until he cleared his throat. “And you are?” he asked, smiling warmly, surely feeling the advantage now of having gotten past her bravado.  Her mouth felt dry—it had to be the arid atmosphere and not embarrassment over her awkward reaction to him--so that her tongue actually stuck a moment before she stammered out her name. “Seraphina.”  She said it rather breathlessly, then bit her lip against revealing her surname.

Harrison had not released her hand, although his grip was gentle, and the warmth of his skin pleasant against her own.  “Seraphina,” he repeated, the small smile creases bracketing his mouth deepening, and a hint of his true smile finally reaching his eyes.  “Lovely name, Seraphina. Exotic in its way, and as rare and fetching as a desert rose.”

Ordinarily, Sera would laugh off such obvious flattery; she’d had enough of it--and insincere at that--throughout her years as a torch singer.  This stranger—John Harrison—looked a better class of man than those who usually tried to ply her with compliments.  That was no reason, of course, to take him more seriously than any of the others.  And yet she felt a sort of…solemnity…about him; a dignity and self-assurance that spoke of a far more purposeful life than those of plain, ordinary men. He was damned attractive too, enough to have her a bit flummoxed at so dear a distance.  

"Seraphina,” he reiterated, teasing the syllables along, the depth and richness of his voice making her shiver a little despite the desert heat. “A derivative of seraphim, the highest order of celestial beings in religious myth.  Heavenly, fiery, winged immortals, tasked with surrounding and praising the throne of god.”  He leaned nearer, well past that unspoken barrier of personal space, closing his eyes while inhaling deeply through his nose, seeming to seek her essence by scent alone.

Such unexpected intimacy left Seraphina speechless, every instinct she had telling her to give ground a step or two—yet she remained still, for when he opened his eyes, she found herself fascinated by their changing hue. Seraphina had never seen such striking eyes on a man before; and she’d have sworn that they were blue.  Pale blue when she’d seen them from a distance, in the bright, unfiltered sun; then a surprising, piercing, azure when she met him face to face.  Now they seem to shift unpredictably from purely blue to nearly green with however the light played upon them, with flecks of gold speckling around the pupils.

“I wonder,” he mused, almost to himself, while Sera remained entranced and silent, unable to look away despite knowing she must look utterly foolish, “Might you be the angel of mercy I’m in such desperate need of?”

Befuddled, Sera sputtered back, "I...um...what?", finally taking a step back and pulling her hand from his grasp.

"I mean to say how fortunate I am, you came along precisely as you did. " Harrison shrugged and took a step back as well, his manner self-effacing enough to lend sincerity to his words. "And that your nature is a kind one--I imagine most women would have cruised by without a care for my predicament, given this isolated location and the potential threat I could embody."

Regaining her composure, Sera lifted her chin proudly, "I've managed to look after myself for many years now, and in dodgier situations." Her usual insoucience restored, she asked the most vital of questions, looking him squarely in the eyes to read the truth before he even answered, "Do I have reason to fear for my safety, Mr. Harrison?"

His eyes widened and he grinned, and then he began to laugh. Heartfelt, and deep in his throat; the rich sound of melted, dark chocolate--the rare sort of sweet that was supposed to be healthy for one, but only if consumed in moderation. A woman could lose herself in such a laugh, she realized, and I'll bet he knows it too.

"If there was any reason at all, you've quite disarmed me already." Now it seemed he was sizing her up beyond first impressions--and liking what he saw, by the look of satisfaction on his face. "I promise you, Ms..."

"It's just Seraphina for now please, if it's all the same to you. " Sera pressed her lips thin against the smile that wanted to break forth, enjoying both his unspoken surprise at her overall boldness--and what she dared to believe was an appreciation for her physical charms.

Harrison acquiesced with a tilt of his head. "Then I promise you, pretty Seraphina, that I harbor no ill intent towards you. And I would be deeply indebted to you for the aid I am sure you intend to offer me."

She felt her cheeks flush at his easy compliment--not taken in, but happy to accept it nonetheless. "Well, it's a shame to have to abandon her here, but the closest hope you have for a spare part--and a mechanic with working knowledge of antique cars--is at least a hundred miles away."

"Alright then," he affirmed, moving past her to slam shut the Mustang's hood, "We should probably be on our way."

"Of course." Sera turned to follow him, wanting a closer look at the rare vehicle before they drove away. "You should put the top up too; you may not make it back here until tomorrow at least."

He nodded again, striding to the driver's side door to start the car and raise the top. Something not quite right here, she thought, frowning; I could swear that this model and the ones that followed, had a remote on the key fob to control the mechanism. It reminded her that she'd initially thought the car did not belong to him--and that somehow she had allowed his charm cause her to lower her guard.

She stepped to the passenger side, hoping for a peek inside to confirm her growing suspicion. "You ought to raise the windows, too," she told him, leaning close enough to peer inside the passenger side window, "No telling what might find its way inside here once darkness falls. It gets pretty cold here at night..." Sera swallowed hard when she got a look at the ignition cylinder; it had been removed from its place beneath the steering wheel and hung down by several wires. The wires themselves appeared to have been rearranged.

Her heart in her throat, Seraphina searched her memory for the word to describe exactly what she was seeing. Hotwired. That's what they called it; a quick and easy way to boost a car. Simon had educated her, marveling at the skill of those he'd read about who could do do in under a minute. She'd never dreamed of seeing something like it up close. Yet there it was, and the man who'd done it clearly hadn't wanted her to see it. Which meant...

He was faster than her by far; almost preternaturally fast. Harrison had grabbed her left arm ( --- damn, he had noted she was carrying something there! --- ) through the window opening, his iron grip digging into her flesh painfully. "Drop it," he ordered her, "Drop it now. I can explain everything if you just remain calm, Seraphina."

She didn't mean to, but she whimpered softly, not only at the discomfort he was inflicting, but also for the cold menace in his eyes. Had she thought them beautiful, compelling, alluring, just moments ago? Now it seemed to her they were the deadliest eyes she had seen in her life.

(to be continued)

#my writing #A Khan By Any Other Name #mystery #danger #Star Trek: Into Darkness #Star Trek Into Darkness #Khan #my dark magnificent prince #John Harrison #Seraphina DiPietro #OFC #OC #Khan x OFC #Khan xOC #star trek aos fan fiction #star trek fan fiction #star trek fanfiction #star trek aos fanfiction #khan fan fiction #khan fanfiction #Khan Noonien Singh #Khanbatch #Benedict Cumberbatch #My Muse #My Constant Muse

[meshlasolus]

Temple of the Forbidden Eye (3)

Indiana Jones x OC

Series Summary: The relationship between student and teacher is strictly professional, or at least it should be. He’s never met his match in archeological intelligence, and if he ever does, it might drive him to do something stupid. 

A/n: since indy came out this weekend, here’s a veeeery long chapter to suffice your indy needs

Warnings: oh boy… bullying, good ol’ fashioned misogyny, mentions of past abuse, mentions of blood and bruises (not explicitly), like.. one swear word.

(Co-written by the lovely @theatrelove3000 you guys should go give her a follow)

The late night work became a regular occurrence, along with her occupying the guest room for those nights. She was always gone when Dr. Jones woke up. It concerned him at first, but he figured she just didn't want to be a burden, not that she ever was. The more time he spent around her, the more it became obvious to him that she tried her best to take up as little space as she possibly could. 

Since her presence in his home became a regular event, he started keeping food stocked. He made it very clear that he did it for her benefit and she was welcome to anything he has. This led to her making dinner for the both of them often while they worked. He would bring whatever they had been working on with him and set it up on the breakfast counter connected to the rest of his kitchen. She would read between steps or they'd talk about whatever the work was. He came to enjoy these times, even if it was only subconsciously. 

Of course, spending as much time with him as she was, it was bound to come back around to bite her. The rumors started relatively quickly. She was able to handle rumors; they'd unfortunately been a major part of her life growing up, and mostly just drew attention from those stupid enough to believe them. That didn't mean she enjoyed the staring, though. She much preferred when she was more or less invisible to her peers and professors. She knew they looked before, that was fine. They were surprised to see a woman in their fancy, expensive classes, let alone one who wears trousers. She didn't mind those looks. Those looks at least were respectful enough to look away when she caught them. Those looks were only because they were shocked to have seen something of her nature…

Now, it's different. Now, they don't look away when she sees them looking. Instead, they throw daggers with their eyes and whisper to each other as she passes. She has had things like this happen before but never for her own decisions. It is different when one makes the choice to continue doing the thing everyone is gossiping about. It made everything more… obvious to her. 

Scarlet was many things; traits that she knew she had and traits that people who she entrusted told her she had. Paranoid was not on the list of said traits. She had never had a reason to be paranoid. Perhaps she did now. Jealousy can make a person do terrible things, especially when the person believes they are more entitled to whatever the object of their envy has. Boys don’t like when they are shown up by girls who are supposedly smarter than they are. Little rich boys hate it more than anything else in the world. 

The twenty-some year old college goers who sat in front of and across her in Professor Jones’ class, only looking behind or to the side of them when he called on her for every question he asked the students. She was smart, but they all had reason to believe he was favoring her over one thing. Her good looks and time available after school. Everyone had heard about their little arrangement, with her as his ‘apprentice’ though she had never done any work in the field. It all seemed too suspicious for a young girl to be residing at her Professor’s home every other day. Her test scores didn’t lie, but the boys in the class did not exactly have access to those. They only saw what was right in front of their eyes, and it looked to them like a scandal. Teacher’s pet, the favorite of them all. She had what they couldn’t have. They couldn’t possibly look at their own merit and decide that it was the real reason for their lacking, so they insisted it must be the fact that she was getting special attention. 

There were two boys in particular, that were especially miffed about her enhanced situation. They had discussed it with one another and took it upon themselves to be the voice of reason, deciding it would be best if she were brought down a few pegs. Just enough to be sure that she wouldn’t feel as high and mighty anymore. 

They waited by the glass case of school awards in the hallway closest to Professor Jones’ classroom, pretending to be in full conversation whilst their colleagues walked by. Some of them entered the class, completely unaware of what the foolish boys planned to do. 

Down the hall came Scarlet Ledger, accompanied by none other than Henry Jones. No other heads were turned as they walked, however, for it was a rather busy time of day, and the students were more focussed on getting to their next class, rather than who they saw in the way of their destination. Last night, they had gone over a series of notes from an old friend of his, who was unable to finish an expedition on an artifact he’d spent years preparing to find. Having received the journals and maps from the retired associate was like being handed the answers to a test. It was all there, and all he had to do now was go out and find it. She had been helping him to figure out the little details, and now the discussion was if she would be joining him or not on this wild endeavor. He, of course, claimed it was too dangerous for a first timer to be brought along on such an elaborate journey. 

“You should start with something more local, like I did,” he turned to her, trying to convey that he did not think her unable, but only inexperienced in the field thus far to take on something so big. 

“It’s not like I’m going alone,” she replied with a small laugh. He made it sound like she would be single handedly making the trek to the treasure. It was a silly notion to think that he was so worried, when he himself was running point on the entire thing. “Not to overestimate you Professor Jones, but I believe you have the ability to defend me if the need should arise. Not that I think it will, I’ll only be assisting you when needed, hence the title of ‘Apprentice.’”

His chuckle was combated by the shake of his head. He knew that eventually he would be giving in to her, because she had this trait of arguing, and just plainly talking her way into something she hadn’t been a part of before. It was often infuriating, but he never walked away from a challenge, even one he knew there was no chance of winning. 

“We’ll talk more after school,” he said, temporarily ending the conversation and walking ahead of her to his classroom. She stopped in her tracks, smiling like a ten year old school girl that was about to be on summer vacation. 

He curved his steps, stepping into the doorway and out of her vision. She usually lingered in the hallway for a few moments, as to avoid the stares when she walked in precisely after he did. It sounded ridiculous that she would even make such efforts, but she made the decision consciously, and it often worked.

She kicked her heels over the ground and clutched her books tightly to her chest, wandering about for a few seconds more. She took steps towards the door, but collided with two young men, and had to back away quickly. 

“I’m so sorry,” she looked to the floor, where one of the boy’s papers had been dropped. She knelt quickly and grabbed them before the breezy open hallway could send them fluttering about. She stood back up to face them with a smile, handing the shorter boy his papers back. “You’ll have to excuse me, I’m afraid I’m a bit clumsier than usual.”

They didn’t say anything, just stood there and stared at her. Strange boys, she thought. She attempted to simply nod and pass around them, but the taller one blocked her way, making himself like a brick wall between her and her favorite class. 

“Pardon me,” she said sweetly, trying once more to walk around him but failing to do so when the other boy decided to also stand in her way. She was peeved, but wouldn't show it on her face. “Gentlemen, I am very sorry for bumping into you, but I really need to get to my class.”

“Hear that, Jim? She really needs to get to her class,” the taller boy said tauntingly. She furrowed her brow, misunderstanding why they could possibly have the need to bother her at this precise moment. She recognized them, they sat in front and across from her. Shouldn’t they also be running along to be seated in time? 

“I think Professor Jones can do without his pet for a few minutes,” the other one spoke with a humorless chuckle. It was clear to her now that they had meant to hold her up, and probably to start a scuffle. These boys were obviously clued into the rumors and false gossip that spread through the halls, but actually having the balls to instigate a fight over it was a rarity. 

“Please, if you could just let me pass,” she tried once more to barrel through the small gap between them, but they shoved her back, and she tumbled to the side a little from the force. She readjusted her grip on her books, trying to compose her posture once more. This all seemed so juvenile, like they would be the school bullies on an elementary school playground. 

“No, I don’t think I will,” one laughed, taking a step closer to her with crossed arms, the other followed. It was beginning to make her feel uneasy, and her usually confident stature was caving in upon being forced into a corner. 

As uneasy as the boys made her, she still tried her best to talk her way out. “Honestly, gentlemen. What are we, children? We all have a class to attend. I doubt you want to be late and risk missing important material.”

“I’ll take my chances,” the taller one said as he took a step closer. 

-

Henry was nothing if not observant, and furthermore, he was intricately observant. When the pair of boys walked into his class three minutes late, along with the fact that his best student was still missing from the crowd, he was able to deduce that something happened in the short time he was separated from her, and it involved the two of them. He didn’t know how, but he was quite sure. It was also notable that the two young men were the ones that sat closest to her in the room. She didn’t have a deskmate, for obvious reasons, so the fact that they were in the near vicinity also made him think that they were involved somehow. She was never late, and she was never one to ditch a class of any kind, much less her favorite. 

“Looking for someone?” one of the students asked, clearly referencing the teacher’s pet. It was funny, or at least the rest of the class thought so, breaking into small fits of quiet giggles that filled the classroom. Henry was far from amused, and did not even hesitate to ask about his prized student. 

“Has anyone seen Miss Ledger?” 

The question reverberated against the walls of the room, and made everyone quiet down. There was a hand that had been raised in the very back, it was the boy who had come in late, and sat directly across from Scarlett on most days. After being pointed at, the boy wore a proud look on his face, the expression was enough to send adrenaline coursing through Henry’s veins. 

“I saw her in the hallway only a minute ago. She seemed to be going mad, something about needing to get home so she could find more trousers,” he said, his comedic tone indicating it may have been partially a joke. The classroom again erupted into muffled laughter, but the look on their professor’s face made them straighten up very quickly. 

He wasn’t exactly worried over her, per se, but now very paranoid as to what really occurred in that hallway when he had left her there. She wouldn’t just miss a class for the reason of finding a new pair of trousers. She was his most dedicated student, and would walk through hell or high water to be in her seat by the time attendance was taken. It all just seemed too suspicious for his liking, and as annoyed as he was, he heaved a sigh, continuing his class. 

“Everyone, pay attention,” he began, droning on all the notes he had prepared with Scarlet the evening before. 

She did not leave his mind the entirety of his lesson, which made sense, given half the time he read from the papers, it was her perfect handwriting that was scrawled over the small lines. He was thankful for the release of the bell ringing through everyone’s ears when the hour was over. He only had two classes in the day, and once they were done, he was free to either sit in the Professor’s lounge, or go home. He’d much prefer to go home, considering the circumstances he’d been met with on this particular day. Avoiding the multitudes of female students as he left his office, he nearly ran to his car in the lot, trying his best not to seem like he was in a hurry. The rumors had been heard by his ears, too, and he didn’t want to give anyone fuel for the fire. 

He got home fairly quickly, which was all well and good, but the thing was that he didn’t have the slightest clue of what to do with himself once he’d entered his front door. It seemed ridiculous for him to be acting this way, as he wasn’t even sure of what had happened, but he assumed it was nothing good. He tried to calm himself by sitting on the couch in his office, reading over some of the things they’d started marking out for the expedition. He had maybe distracted himself for an hour before his doorbell rang out. 

He jumped from his seat, scattering the papers and taking large steps towards the door. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see when he opened the door, but the lovely image of Scarlet Ledger wearing a skirt was not on the list. She had made it more than clear in the time they spent together that she had a distaste for skirts because of some not very fond memories in her youth, and yet here she stood in a fitted tweed skirt that started high on her waist and fell just under her knees. Her sweater was the same cream one that she had been in earlier, but the skirt was not even close to her favorite chocolate brown trousers.

Pants are more comfortable, she always said, and they leave no room for impish schoolboys to mess around and flip them over your head when your back is turned.

His furrowed brows were uncontrollable, and it made her feel even worse about the situation than she already had. His eyes that scanned her up and down about three times more were not because of his dislike, but because of his shock. Truly, this was the last thing he ever thought he’d see her wear. 

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, a cheerful smile as if nothing had happened that day. “May I come in?” 

He shook his head to get rid of the nasty feeling, giving her a tight lip smile that was unconvincing next to the one he always gave her when she first arrived.

“I already started marking out the route on the map,” he said while stepping aside to let her in. Feeling the hem of her skirt brushing against his leg felt so strange, and he wasn’t sure if she was ever going to fess up to the reason why she was wearing it in the first place, but he wouldn’t bother her about it, yet. 

“You were supposed to wait for me,” she sighed out, slightly disappointed that he hadn’t paid attention to her words from last night. It had been one of the things she was most excited about. The location had been found, but it was the journey to said location that would hold all the fun that was finding such an artifact. 

“I didn’t think you were coming.”

At this she stopped, turning around and nervously looking him over. It didn’t seem like he knew anything, but she had to be sure. 

“I always come after school,” she murmured, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Well sure, but when you didn’t show up to class, I had my doubts that you’d show up here,” he was nonchalant, but something inside him was irritated. That way she was so perfectly calm, much less while wearing a skirt. She didn’t seem to have any problem in the facts of her absence, and acted as though it never happened at all. “Speaking of which, I’d like to know why you missed my class?”

She stood awkwardly with her hands folded behind her back. She seemed very stiff, and he figured it must be the effects of her wearing the skirt. She seemed far less confident, boreline uncomfortable, which never happened in his presence. He’d made it clear what he thinks of her, and she’d never felt the need to mask her personality, nor her spunky attitude. 

“Oh? Yes, I’m sorry to have worried you,” she paused, straightening up slightly before looking him in the eye as she lied to his face. “I was lingering in the hallway, and felt a bit nauseous, so I decided to stand outside for a minute. Unfortunately, there was a bump in the doorstep that I hadn’t seen before… I fell down and scuffed up my trousers, so I went home to change before walking here.”

The look of utter ‘this is horseshit’ on his face when she finished speaking was so evident, she had to look away in order to prevent herself from faltering. Truth be told, the thing he found most amusing was just how rehearsed the story had sounded. It was so well gone over in her head, and he could hear it in the evened spaces of her words. 

“Is that the story you’re sticking with?” he tilted his head with an unconvinced expression. 

She stopped for a second to think about her response, because clearly he wasn’t buying into any of this. She knew he wouldn’t, but the truth was far more embarrassing and she’d rather not have to retell the events of which she fell into this afternoon. 

“It’s the one I have decided on, yes," she turns back to walk towards his office, choosing not to elaborate further. She decided that her response was good enough, and continued as if she wasn’t being incredibly vague and unconvincing.

He would get to the bottom of it, but if she was this defensive over what had happened, he would need to let her become comfortable again. She looked so out of place in a home she had resided in more than her own. 

As they got started, he neglected to mention anything about the incident. He joined in the act of pretending all was well, but it didn’t settle her like he thought it might. As the night went on, she perhaps got even more tense than she was when she had arrived. 

He watched her as she sat, decidedly uncomfortable in her attire. Her posture was not nearly as good as it normally was. Even when she is half asleep, she sits straight as an arrow, as if a string had been pulled through the entirety of her spine and was holding her up. Her shoulders were always back. It was so natural for her, that normally he would have thought a slumped and curved position was not possible.

Looking at her now, the best way he could describe her stature would be curled. She was curled in on herself. As though she was hiding, or protecting herself from something. It almost appeared that she was trying to shrink in on her already small form. 

“Are you ready to talk about it now, or should I wait a little longer and make you a cup of tea?” Professor Jones tries his best to make his voice light and teasing, but the smile he has that often makes her grin back doesn’t even cause a twitch of her lips. Strange. She barely even glanced at him.

“Talk about what?” She just opens the file in front of her and starts to flip through it. She was clearly going to try and sweep it under the rug. He decided to let it go for now, hoping the work will distract them both enough to get back to normal. That is, until she shifts slightly and her skirt rides up her leg. Even through her stockings, he can see the bruise blossoming. Her knee was also partially skinned, the dried red that would become slightly scared was evident.

“Alright, I’m sorry,” he closed his book and tossed it aside, uncaring where it landed for the moment. “I was going to let it go, but now I can’t. What actually happened? And don't give me the ‘I tripped’ story again. You don’t get bruises on your lower thigh from tripping on a doorstep.”

Her face froze, and she shifted her skirt down to cover her knees again. It was too late to make up another story on the spot, not one convincing enough anyway. The best one she had come up with was the one he’d seen through the entire time. She sighed out and dropped her eyes to her hands. Her pride kept her from admitting what happened, because in her mind, nothing was more embarrassing than being treated the way she was for such unjustifiable reasons. She trusted her Professor, and he made her feel safe, but this was different. It concerned him. 

Neither one of them had spoken about the circulating rumors, just let them hang in the air and ignored the stares from people as they walked by. Confronting the gossip meant that things might change, and she didn’t want them to. She was perfectly fine with the after school arrangement, the late nights that were ever so productive. 

“There were two boys in the hallway that blocked me from getting to class,” she began, still looking down, and missing as his fist clenched against his palm. He knew those boys were up to no good, he’d been able to tell just by the way they walked in. “They shoved me into a corner and tried to get me to admit to… something. I denied it and they got upset, so they grabbed me by my pockets and tossed me to the ground. My trousers had gotten completely torn, and my leg was scuffed up, too.”

She rushed out the last of the words, and had to slowly even her breath so she wouldn’t cry. She’d cried her entire walk home, and decided after she changed that she wouldn’t cry over it again. It wasn’t like her to be so offended, but the things they said hurt more than the bruises and scrapes. She’d try and avoid telling him if she could, but of course, his curiosities were ever present. 

“What did they try to get you to admit? You haven’t killed anyone, have you?” He said, his humor entering the scene even in this moment which was serious. She huffed a small laugh, feeling a bit better as she prepared herself for this next step. She needed to choose her words carefully, because what she said now would determine how things would go for the next several months. 

“Professor, I think you may have been hearing rumors at school lately, ones concerning you and I,” she said slowly, watching for his reaction and eventually receiving a nod from him. Of course he’d heard the rumors, everyone had. She was surprised that the entire University faculty and staff hadn’t heard by now. “My classmates are convinced that because of such things that I am receiving special treatment.”

“You are receiving special treatment,” he reasoned, but she shook her head, and he gestured for her to continue. 

“Not for doing the things they think I am,” she let out, the first tear escaping her eye, marking out a path on her cheek and dropping down to bleed a small stain onto her shirt. After that, more started following, and she couldn’t hold the choked sounds out of her voice any longer, either. “I have been called a lot of things in my life, most I can take, but for boys who claim to be gentlemen to corner me in a hallway and accuse me of prostituting myself for grades before throwing me down and calling me a whore is probably one of the worst feelings I’ve ever felt in my life.”

She instinctively did what she’d always done as a child. She sought comfort from outer warmth, from being touched. She wrapped her arms around herself and brought her knees to her chest, laying her chin atop her arms and closing her eyes tightly. She hated that she was breaking down here, in one of the only places she could seek comfort in, but thinking back to her horrible experience, and thinking that there could be plenty more ahead waiting for her was suffocating. She couldn’t help how pathetic she looked or sounded, though she’d like to bet she’ll regret it later. 

She heard shifting in the room, and felt a dip in the couch beside her. She looked up to meet his eyes, and he placed a hand on her shoulder, using the other to take his glasses off and set them on the table. She had seen him without them before, as he usually discarded them when he grew tired, but she’d never been so close up to really see what he looked like without them. He looked younger, boyishly handsome. 

“I’m sorry,” he was so soft spoken, and his eyes held so much compassion. He was a man in this field. He’d never had to deal with anything of this sort in his life, so he could never understand how devastating it must be to commit yourself to your studies and be treated like there was some ulterior motive, simply because of gender. He would never know how it feels to be called such things or be bullied over stupid jealousies. “I’ll make sure they get what they’re owed, alright?”

Immediately she turned to him with wide teary eyes, shaking her head rapidly. “No, please. If you involve yourself, It will only look worse.”

“I can’t just let it go. This is far more serious than you seem to be grasping-"

"Professor, I understand perfectly fine!"

"No, Scarlet, you clearly don't. What they did was wrong, no matter what reason they had," he pushes past the fact that he just called her by her first name. In every closeness they had by now achieved, that had been a line which wasn’t crossed until this moment.

His assertive tone made her straighten up her spine, and she forced onto her face a look of indifference. She knew he was only trying to help, but she would not let this get out of hand. She already earned a bad reputation on account of nothing but good natured studying and commitment to her field, and she would at some point have to draw the line as to where she stood in all of this. 

“Professor Jones, I must insist that you do not say anything to the young men in your class. As much as I appreciate your willingness to help my case, I think it would be a bad idea to let you defend me, now.”

He seemed peeved, but not completely annoyed. Curious as he was to her reasoning, he felt it ridiculous to neglect his attempts. Why would she push away someone who was trying to help her? 

“And why is that?” 

She had to take a deep inhale in order to look him in the eye when she spoke her next words. 

“Because they expect you to,” she was trying to convey the unspoken words to him as appropriately as possible, but of course, Henry was never as lady-like.  

“Because they think we’re sleeping together.”

Well, bingo. He’d hit it right on the nose, and she had to duck her head to hide her flushed cheeks from his stone gaze. “Yes, that would be why.”

He sat back in his seat, looking at other objects in the room, and hoping they would help him to think about a solution. He couldn’t help but feel like this was a rather out of his hands situation. The students of his class had made up their minds about her, but maybe he could change that. Perhaps, he could expose the boys for their actions without calling on them directly. 

“But we aren’t sleeping together.”

“No. We are not.” She tries hard to keep her voice level, though he can hear the slight catch in it. She’s still trying to hold back tears.

Henry sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look,” he starts, “it’s one thing to be accused of something you aren’t doing when it’s only rumors. They crossed a line when they approached you physically, and there has to be a way to address it.”

Again, she looked scared, or at least rather uncomfortable with his suggestion. He hadn’t been finished though, and held up his hand to allow room to continue. 

“I have a friend in the office who owes me a favor. He might be able to address them without anyone else knowing about it, or that you ever told me anything.”

This, she decided, was a solution worth trying for. Her subtle nod made him quirk a small smile from the corner of his mouth. He nodded once too, and squeezed her shoulder as he leaned further back into the couch. She had begun relaxing immediately after that, and he felt he’d done something right in all this. 

She was only to be his student, but he could not deny he wanted to protect her from such things as these. He’s not always the kindest hearted person in the world, but he felt that perhaps he may have done the same for another girl in his class, as it was simply the right thing to do. He wasn’t so sure, though, that he would be so gentle and tender around her like he was now with Scarlett. He tread so delicately, because God help him, he cared so much about how she reacted to things. His attachment to what was only supposed to be his student had far surpassed what should be considered normal.

Never before had he ever had a ‘teacher’s pet’ or a ‘professor’s lackey’, but it was plain as day to anyone, now. Scarlett Ledger was his favorite student.

“Thank you,” she started smiling at him, now knowing that her reputation would not be further damaged, and her assaulters would receive punishment. There was also another reason. “For helping me.”

“It’s no problem. What they did is not acceptable from anyone in my class, their actions will have consequences.” 

They settled it there, and continued on with the work being done. Papers littered the floor an hour later as they worked, and though the hour was late, there was still so much to be done before the expedition took place. The question of her going still hung in the balance, and she had hoped that with all the work and time she had devoted, and perhaps a bit of Henry’s guilt from this situation being caused, he would allow her to join him. 

He had been sat on the floor by now, handing papers and notes he’d written down to her where she sat on the couch, but as he went over some journal entries of the dear friend of his that handed this adventure over to him, he neglected to realize that the soft shuffle of papers behind him, along with the quiet sound of a pencil moving had ceased. When he finished with the journal entry, he had marked the lines he had wanted her to see and was about to hand it over… but when he turned around, Scarlett had fallen into a restful sleep. Her head laid on the arm of the couch, and her arms wrapped around herself to keep warm without a blanket. 

He knew that in the groove he fell into that he wouldn’t be able to sleep for several more hours, but he didn’t want to just leave her on the couch in his office as he ruffled about his work when there was a perfectly comfortable and warm bed in his spare room. Normally, he would wake her, have her walk to the room herself and ready for the night… but she had gone through a hard day, and this was the first time since this morning that he had truly seen her relaxed. It would be just cruel to make her leave her state of slumber when he was very capable of just transporting her himself. 

He sighed and stood up, careful when he lifted her from the couch, and trying his best not to crash into anything or trip over the items on the floor when he moved between rooms. Thankfully, he made it safely into the spare room with little to no obstacles, and set her on the bed as gently as he could. He rid her of the shoes she wore before tucking her in beneath the sheets and duvet that used to remain untouched until her nighttime stays. She turned her head on the pillow, her brow furrowing a small bit when she faced him. He hoped she hadn’t woken up, otherwise he just spent meticulous time in carrying her all for nothing. She took in a deep breath before releasing it, and her face returned to normal. Her expression was bliss, and he found himself staring for longer than he would care to admit. 

Standing here, a thought entered and left his mind in a fleeting manner. It simply came, and went… but caused him to think more. The thought in question? She’s so beautiful. It would bury him, that thought. He begged his mind to never think it again, but on that tangent, a whole new slew of thoughts along those lines began to pile in his head like dug up dirt.

He needed to leave the room, that would help. 

“You’re gonna get me in some real trouble, kid.”

He walked out and back to his office, continuing to study his work, but finding that he retained no information on the account of his racing thoughts yet again. He sat back and raked a hand through his hair and down over his face before leaning forward to try and perhaps balance out all these intrusive thoughts with things he found annoying. He started with just a few things he often found to be peeving or invasive: She nags at him about the temperature he keeps his home, finding it too difficult to focus if she’s cold. She is constantly telling him how bad his handwriting is, hoping he will make an effort to write more legibly for her own sake. She reorganizes his work often, and it bothers him that he can’t find anything afterwards without her help. She raided his kitchen the first day she arrived, and mocked his eating habits while doing so… but in all fairness, she did make dinner and stop the work to allow time to eat. She had also been the one to help him arrange lessons when he was falling behind from other work. She was there to talk with him when he’d been stressed about the day from the events that occured. She was-

It was right then that he realized how truly and downright domestic their relationship had become. It washed over him in the most uncomfortable way, and clung to him like wet clothes on your back. He tossed the paper in his other hand to the floor and tried his best to make sense of any of it… but whenever he thought he was getting close to an answer it returned to bite him in the ass through a new slew of questions. 

This type of thinking was dangerous. They had crossed so many lines that should never have been crossed without even realizing. He hadn’t wanted to believe there would ever be any weight to the rumors at the University, but sitting here alone in this room, having just tucked Scarlett into bed one room over, he suddenly felt completely and totally wrecked.

-

Tags:

@justanothersadperson93 @sparklytoaster @silverose365

#indiana jones x oc #indiana jones x reader #indiana jones #henry jones #harrison ford #the dial of destiny #disneyland #temple of the forbidden eye #Indiana jones adventure

[ana-thedaydreamer]

Because Ikemen Villains is having EN version soon, so I'm really excited to share my Ikevil OCs here because I've been working on these girls for quite some time after reading stories in JP ver. and choosing my bias(es) 💖(*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑

Same as Ikevamp, which I have 3 girls (1 main (Annalisa) and 2 subs (Madeline and Odette). Ikevil I have 2 girls, 1 main (Emily) and 1 sub (Penelope)

💕 Please meet Emily Morris and Penelope White 💕

Emily Morris 🐰 - Love Interest: Harrison Gray 🦊

Penelope White 🍎 - Love Interest: Roger Barel 🔫

Here is their character sheet and information 🥰

Emily and Penelope relationship info 🐰🍎

#cybird ikemen #otome game #cybird #fanart #ikevil oc #ikevil harrison #ikevil roger #oc x canon #ikevil oc emily #ikevil oc penelope #anadreamart

[bobgasm]

wip wednesday

rules: post the titles of your wips and run a poll to see what you should focus on first based on the titles alone

tagging: @sailor-aviator @sorchathered @mamachasesmayhem @attapullman

#wip wednesday #wip tag game #also lowkey just created this game lmao #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x oc #harrison knott x reader #jake hangman seresin #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x oc #these tags are based on the fic titles #but y’all don’t know which belongs to which #maybe

[liberty-barnes]

And They Lived Happily Ever After

Epilogue of the (Y/n) Lively-Reynolds series

Tom Holland x Singer/Actress!Lively-Reynolds!Reader

Summary: (Y/n) Lively-Reynolds and Tom Holland get their happily ever after. It goes about as well as you can imagine it.

Warnings: uuh the end there got a bit on the steamy side so just some nice like snogging and plenty mentions of honeymoon sex and nudity, but otherwise you’re good, switching POVs so you’ll get to see everyone appreciating their love, and you’ll get to see the ceremony from so many people’s eyes, including some you haven’t seen yet ;)

Word Count: 3.4k words

Estimated Reading Time: 15 minutes

A/N: I’m not crying, you’re crying, shut up. This is a really emotional moment for me. My second series is finally over!! I started this accidentally, and it took me ages to finish, but I don’t regret a single second of it. It brought me so much happiness, and I loved reading your thoughts and comments as time went on. I only hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did <3 Just wanna send a million thank you’s to @the-girl-in-the-chair for being my test person and the one I could always talk to when it comes to this series, I love you so much Lana, you’re the beeest

I was picturing this dress (mostly cause it has pocketssss) so if you want a visual, here you go)

Also very important: the vows in this were inspired by the PA Series on AO3 and honestly check it out cause it’s just awesome and those are my relationship goals right there

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

“Alright, sweetheart, deep breaths, everything’s gonna be alright.”

She follows her mother’s instructions, taking in shaky gulps of air.

Breathe in, two, three, four.

Hold, two, three, four.

Breathe out, two, three, four.

Hold, two, three, four.

“Feeling better?”

She nods slowly, then immediately shakes her head.

“No, this is a disaster!”

Blake finally gives up on keeping her dress unwrinkled, sitting down on the floor next to her.

“Angel, everything’s gonna be alright, I don’t even know why you’re freaking out so much. You’re marrying your best friend. You two love each other so much, and you’re gonna be so happy, there’s nothing to worry about.”

She sniffles.

“But there are so many people, Mommy. And they’re all gonna be looking at me. You know I’m not good at the mushy stuff when I have eyes on me, they make me nervous. This is supposed to be perfect, and instead, we had to invite a hoard of insignificant Suits and entitled bitches, all for business. We already give them so much, why couldn’t we just keep this to ourselves?”

She sighs, and brings her daughter closer to her body, crushing her in a hug.

“Cause the world sucks, and it’s all part of the business. You and Tom have been on a break from acting for three months now, and you’ll stay there for another year at the very least. These Suits like to feel like they’re important, and inviting them to events like these keeps up a good relationship for when you come back.

“Besides, who cares about them? You’ll have to shake their hands once at the reception when you’re making your rounds and then it’s over. Don’t let a handful of idiots ruin the best day of your life.”

(Y/n) nods, gently wiping at her eyes, then crawls until she’s in front of the mirror.

“Well, at least we know the waterproof makeup works.”

Blake just smiles.

—

When Ryan first sees (Y/n) he has to pinch his thigh to keep himself from outright sobbing.

“Hey, no! No, no, no, you’re not allowed to cry, because if you cry, I cry, and if I cry, I’ll trip on my dress. These heels are tall, keep yourself together for both our sakes.”

It’s hard, it’s very hard, that’s his little girl, his sweet little daffodil, and she’s gonna sail off into the sunset with the love of her life.

“Alright, let’s do this shit. Try not to fall.”

He’s glad to see that Tom starts crying the second he sees her, so really it isn’t emotional weakness as much as it is the (Y/n) In A Wedding Dress Effect™. 

(Y/n) manages to stay composed the whole walk, although her eyes are shining quite a lot.

“Thomas, if you hurt her, I will do something so unspeakably cruel to you that Satan himself will shudder.”

Tom looks at him with a face full of betrayal.

“What if she hurts me?”

“Oh, she most certainly will, you’re much more emotionally fragile than she is. That’s why I know that if you hurt her, it’ll be over something big, and therefore I’m legally allowed to fuck you up.”

(Y/n) kisses his cheek happily.

“Thank you, Daddy, the shovel talk was long overdue.”

It was actually part two of the shovel talk: wedding edition, but she doesn’t need to know that.

—

Taylor reaches into her purse and passes Harry a tissue, eyes still focused on the happy couple in the front.

This is it, right here.

The way (Y/n)’s looking at Tom like he’s the second coming of Christ. Tom rubbing his thumbs on her hands cause he just can’t stop touching her. The way they keep tapping each other three times, an endless loop of I love you I love you I love you. 

This is what she’s been trying so hard to describe her whole life.

It gets her a little emotional…to remember the little girl who used to gape at her, and who’s now a badass independent woman marrying the person of her dreams.

It’s a lot.

And if she feels like she’s one strong gust of wind away from an emotional breakdown, she can’t even imagine how Blake and Ryan are faring.

“I understand that you’ve written your own vows. Tom, if you’d like to go first…”

He nods and clears his throat, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants before grabbing (Y/n)’s again.

“Do you remember the night we met? When you were crying over a movie and I took you to Burger King to cheer you up?”

She rolls her eyes and Taylor can relate, honestly. The whole world knows that story at this point.

“Vividly.”

He smiles so softly that Taylor’s itching to pull out her notebook and start writing.

“I’ve never told you how I fell in love with you. I always told myself I’d tell you the story in our wedding vows, so here it is. From the moment we left the afterparty, you kept ranting about the movie, about how it’s gonna end, about your theories… And I loved listening to them. There was one moment though, where you just took a huge bite out of your cheeseburger, while mid-rant… and on everyone else, that would’ve looked disgusting, but your eyes were shining so bright, and you were giving me your full attention and that…that was when I knew I loved you. And I would keep loving you for the rest of my life, 'cause there’s no one else in the world who could pull me in as completely as you do, even though there was ketchup dripping down your chin.”

(Y/n) blinks back tears, eyes wide.

“Oh, you fucker.”

That’s love, Taylor’s sure of it.

—

Now, to be perfectly honest, Harrison thinks those vows were shit.

Seriously?

You looked disgusting but I still thought you were hot?

That’s his big wedding speech?

As the good Best Man he is, he’s considering smacking Tom upside the head and making him start over.

He’s not expecting (Y/n) to like it to the point of tears, though.

Like, I’m sorry, but what the fuck?

He’s lucky he’s an actor cause no ordinary person would’ve been able to keep the confusion out of their face, and you don’t want a hoard of confused people on your wedding pictures.

(Y/n)’s turn now, and hopefully, she’ll do better.

“I promise that your ability to cook, clean, and remind me to eat only make up sixty per cent of why I’m marrying you.”

Harrison has to fight back the urge to sigh and facepalm.

“I wasn’t planning on liking you, let alone falling as deeply in love with you as I did. My plan was to hate you, make all my fans hate you, and do it fast enough that Marvel would have no choice but to replace you with Andrew again.”

From the audience, Andrew laughs.

“But unfortunately for me, you’re not easy to hate, and let me tell you, I tried really hard. You slithered your way into my heart like a particularly stubborn snake and I had no choice but to let you carve out your home within me and prepare myself for the inevitable heartbreak.

“That still hasn’t happened. For some reason, you’ve chosen to ignore the fact that I’m a barely-functioning sarcastic bitch whose favourite way of showing love is through insults and slaps on the ass. 

“I don’t know why you chose me, and I expect I’ll be thanking every deity out there for the rest of eternity for putting you in my life, but I know that I couldn’t have chosen a better partner if I had tried.”

She pauses, and Harrison thinks that maybe, just maybe, at least one of them will have said nice vows.

“Also there’s no way I’m gonna live in a world where I can’t bite your ass on the daily, so you better say I do or I’ll end you.”

And he spoke too soon.

Tom still reaches behind him to grab the tissues Harrison was told to bring. Maybe his best friend was dropped on the head as a child, so now everything makes him emotional.

—

Nikki keeps her eyes firmly on her son and daughter-in-law as they flit around the room greeting their guests. She and Blake have made it into a game of sorts.

Every time (Y/n) wipes her hands on her dress after shaking hands with a Suit, Tom pulls her back by the waist, or the happy couple are asked to kiss, they take a sip of the very expensive and very tasty red wine provided for them.

The sound of clinking glasses feels the air once again and Blake tilts her glass.

“Bottoms up!”

And that’s one more glass finished. How far along are they now? Five? Six? She looks around at the empty bottles. Maybe a little bit more.

“Oh, my God, I’m so glad it’s over if I had to deal with another second of that, this wedding would have turned into a remake of Saw!”

(Y/n) slumps down heavily onto the chair, toeing off her heels until she can bring her knees to her chest and lean on the backrest.

“Why did we have to have a wedding? We should’ve just eloped. It would just be us, maybe I’d fly us out to Iceland and we could get married in a hot spring, I’m sure the water would do wonders to relax us, no?”

Nikki fills up her glass and hands it to (Y/n), who immediately downs it.

“Look on the bright side, tomorrow morning, you’ll be on a flight to Syros and one step closer to a full month spent only with your husband and the inordinate amount of cats on that island.”

Nikki’s been there. It’s amazing. They should plan a family holiday there.

“I agree.”

Oh, she’s talking out loud now.

“Yes, you are. But Nikki!”

(Y/n)’s eyes brighten, and she feels her arm get grabbed and pulled towards her brand new daughter-in-law.

“You said husband. I have a husband, I’m married!”

Yes, if someone had to marry her sweet little boy, she’s glad it was someone like (Y/n).

—

“And now, please gather around to watch Mr and Mrs Holland have their first dance as a married couple.”

While they get into place, Harry shares a look with his own husband, sitting primly at the piano, staring back at him.

When (Y/n) and Tom first came to them, shily asking them to sing If I Could Fly as their wedding song, Harry burst into tears. He just loves love, and to be a part of something as monumental as a first dance- 

He really should have said no cause Louis just started playing and Harry’s already having a hard time holding back tears. 

But the way Tom and (Y/n) stare at each other- that’s how he stares at Louis. And it’s the look he sees reflected back in his husband’s eyes every second of the day.

Love is just such a beautiful thing.

For your eyes only I’ll show you my heartFor when you’re lonely and forget who you areI’m missing half of me when we’re apartNow you know me, for your eyes only

He feels privileged to even be in the same room as them. It’s no secret that (Y/n)’s fiercely private. She loves, deeply and wholeheartedly, but not for others to see. She loves each person in their own special way, pieces of her heart are cut, shaped, and fitted to fit her feelings for everyone around her. But her love for Tom as it’s shown today is a sight to behold. 

It’s the sun after long dreary weeks. It’s the first flower bloom after months of cold, harsh weather. It’s seeing the stars out in the countryside after a life spent in the city.

It’s fragile. It’s new. It’s special. It’s lovely.

Harry loves love, but he thinks that right now, he may love their love the most.

—

Georgia takes yet another sip of the very expensive but very tasty champagne offered.

To be honest, she didn’t want to come. Weddings are boring, if not for the open bar, and knowing that she isn’t really welcomed here isn’t making her feel particularly better. I mean, she’s met (Y/n) all of once and they mostly trash-talked the Kardashians, she can’t have made an important enough impression to be an esteemed guest.

But, the Lighthavens are an important family in the film industry, earning them an invite to the most awaited event of the year, and it would look bad if someone didn’t show up to represent them. 

Still, being twenty-seven and single, there are many things she’d rather do than sit by the open bar getting smothered by other couples’ happiness while she wallows in her own misery.

“Whiskey sour, please.”

He turns towards her.

“And refill the kind lady’s glass.”

Oh, goodie.

She barely spares him a glance, eyes still focused on (Y/n), flitting around the room.

“Enjoying the wedding?”

She shrugs.

“It’s entertaining.”

He puts a hand on his heart in fake offence.

“Ouch. As the Best Man, it’s my job to ensure everyone’s having the time of their lives, so tell me, what can I do to make this night more enjoyable for you?”

She turns towards him, taking in the ruffled blonde hair, white shirt sleeves folded up to his forearms, vest and tie discarded somewhere.

“Actually, your job is to stop any upcoming crisis so the groom doesn’t get blamed and inevitably murdered by his newly-aquired wife.”

She steals the whiskey from his hand and starts drinking it. He blinks dazedly but dutifully orders another.

“Your unhappiness could quickly become a crisis, though. As much as she hates to admit it, (Y/n) doesn’t like it when people are miserable, especially when she’s having so much fun.”

She sighs.

“Do you know who I am?”

Panic shoots through Harrison’s eyes. It’s fleeting, and it’s subtle, but it’s real.

“Am I supposed to?”

Interesting.

“You’re telling the truth.”

He shrugs.

“(Y/n)’s motivated me to be more honest, although I can’t quite see the benefits she’s always raved about as of yet.”

She smirks into her glass.

“You genuinely have no idea who I am.”

A single mention of him from her lips and his acting career would shoot through the roof.

“I’m sorry. Although from how happy you look, maybe I’m not?”

“What’s it gonna be?”

He���s saved by the bell.

“All the unmarried people out on the floor I wanna see which unlucky bastard will have all grandmas pinching their cheeks and cooing cause they're next.”

A collective groan was heard throughout the crowd.

“If it helps, there’s a hundred-dollar bill in the bouquet that you can keep.”

That got people moving.

Harrison takes a look at her ring finger.

“Not gonna join?”

“If you out me as single, I’ll end you, there’s no way I’m doing this.”

He shrugs.

“Suit yourself. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve broken whatever fight will undoubtedly come from this bouquet tossing.”

He stands on the sideline, ready to stop things from escalating.

The bouquet lands in his hands.

(Y/n) squeals.

“Oh, fuck yeah! Even with my back turned my aim is impeccable.”

Tom pushes him forward when Harrison’s reluctant to move and whispers something in his ear.

Georgia doesn’t break eye contact while he walks towards her and takes a lavender rose out of the bouquet.

“Here. It matches your dress.”

Alright so maybe weddings aren’t that bad.

—

It’s a testament to his patience that Tom waited until the hotel door is closed before pressing (Y/n) up against the wall and getting started on his Wedding Night Ravishing.

“Fuck, I can’t believe we actually pulled it off.”

She mumbles through their kisses and to be fair, he kind of can’t either.

“I swear to God- we got him the perfect fucking girl- if he doesn’t invite Georgia on a date- fuck, baby- I’ll kill him myself.”

He starts trailing kisses down her neck, slowly unzipping her wedding dress.

It’s pretty, and it’s special, and it has pockets, he’s not gonna rip it, thank you very much, he wants to have ‘just got married’ sex tonight.

“Georgia’s a tough one to get to, you said it yourself. He’ll have to work for it.”

She pulls his hair harshly until they’re eye to eye and he moans. His pupils are probably about as blown as hers right about now.

“You had to work for me.”

He licks his lips and her eyes trail on the movement, mouth falling open unconsciously.

“And what a good fucking decision that was.”

And if there’s one thing that never fails to get her going, it’s that.

“How loud do you think you can make me scream before the other residents complain?”

Challenge fucking accepted.

—

(Y/n) lowers her sunglasses a tad, wanting to take in her husband in all his blazing glory, no filter in between them.

Whoever invented honeymoons was a fucking saint. One month of a near-constantly naked Tom more than eager to fuck her into the nearest solid surface made for a very happy (Y/n).

Currently, she’s sunbathing on a pool chair with a mimosa while Tom is swimming laps in the pool. Or was. Now he’s getting out and the water’s trailing down every single inch of him and suddenly she’s not as thirsty for champagne and orange juice-

“Princess, are you listening?”

Her eyes flit back up to his face.

“Don’t ask me the colour of anything, this isn’t fair, you’re distracting.”

He chuckles and climbs over her, tasting the mimosas right out of her mouth.

“I’m distracting? You’re distracting! Do you know how hard it was to swim my usual laps while you’re just laying here, happy and calm and naked and mine?”

She grins smugly.

“I can feel how hard it was, yeah. I’d ask if you’re up for it, but I kind of already got that answer, so you should just hurry and get it in.”

For a few more glorious seconds, she gets lost in the kiss and in his hands moving along her body, getting so close, so close-

“No, but actually I did get out of the pool for a reason.”

In the back of her mind, she remembers Harry in that one concert saying this is called edging after stopping Kiwi for the millionth time, and the way Tom grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him, smiling in interest. 

If she weren’t such a good person, she would have kicked him in the balls for that.

Unfortunately, she needs those, so.

“Haz got a date with Georgia.”

Her jaw drops open and she slaps his arm happily.

“What the fuck, are you serious? Tom! This means it worked! We got them together! We’re the best fucking matchmakers in the world!”

Tom chuckles and flips them over until she’s straddling him, running his hands from her knees to her waist, where they dig in just a little.

Great idea, if you ask her.

“Calm down, darling, it’s just one date.”

She hums.

“That’s what I said about you, and now look at where we are. We’re married and on our honeymoon.”

His eyes all but sparkle at that.

“We are. We’re married. I’m your husband, and you’re my wife, and we’re married.”

She leans down, can’t stop herself from snogging his face off when he looks so sweet and happy at the prospect of spending eternity by her side.

“And we’re gonna live happily ever after, right?”

“And we’re gonna live happily ever after, princess.”

---

please do come talk to me about this series. comment, reblog, send in an ask, literally anything, can just be a gif of someone screaming, just ACKNOWLEDGE IT SO I KNOW IT WASN'T IN VAIN

#libby writes #tynlrs #the (y/n) lively reynolds series #tom holland #louis tomlinson #harry styles #larry #marvel #blake lively #ryan reynolds #taylor swift #nikki holland #singer!reader #actress!reader #harrison osterfield #tom holland x reader #harrison osterfield x oc #lively reynolds!reader

[apollafire]

(sorry that it's so short; not every chapter will be like that. I had finally thought of a good jumping off point and sort of ran with it- either way, enjoy!)

Dearly Departed

Next Chapter

Summerville, Oklahoma 2021

The place was a dump. Maybe not a complete lost cause, but then again it probably was. Callie knew that for sure, standing in the foyer of the what should have been abandoned old farmhouse her father had residing in until his death. It was a miracle that the "fracking", as Phoebe had called it, didn't bring the place down on top of them.

"Can I help you?" The woman's voice made Callie turn to face her and a feeling of familiarity washed over Janine Melnitz as she looked at the blonde woman, looking towards the living room at her children only strengthened the feeling.

"We're the uh-" The word family was refusing to leave Callie's mouth, "This was my father's place."

"Right, hello. Hi." After a moment, Janine regained herself, "I'm Janine Melnitz, we spoke on the phone. I was old friends with your father, I'm very sorry for your loss." The women continued to speak as Trevor turned to poke around the living room some more, just looking for weird stuff when he pulled an old photo from between two books on a shelf.

A young woman, maybe mid to late twenties, stood against a pillar of some grand building. Laboratory goggles adorned the top of her head, pushing back a mass of wavy blonde hair. Her smile was bright and proud. She wore Converse sneakers of a dark color, maybe black, cuffed blue jeans, plain purple t-shirt and had a white lab coat draped over her crossed arms.

"Woah, who's this babe?" Trevor chuckled out, catching the attention of the two women and his sister Phoebe as he turned and held the photo up in their direction. Columbia University - 1981 was scribbled on the back in blue pen ink.

"That's your grandmother, Trev." Callie said with a sigh, arms crossed over her chest.

"Grandmother, as in grandma Kate? Your mother, grandma Kate?" Trevor questioned before shuddering in disgust at the fact he just called his own grandmother a babe, dropping the photo on the already paper strewn table and leaving the room. Phoebe grabbed the photo to look at it as she brought it over to her mom.

"I'm surprised she didn't come with you. We lost touch when she moved to Chicago." Janine spoke softly.

"She died." Callie spoke softly as well, staring down at the photo.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea that both-" The older woman brought a hand up to her mouth, "When did she-?"

"It'll be 20 years next February."

#katherine harrison #ghostbusters oc #ghostbusters #egon spengler #egon spengler x oc #ghostbusters egon #fanfic #egon spengler x reader

[coquetties]

✧           🎀       𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍   𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑   introducing 𝗦𝗔𝗠 ⋆ . ˚ ࿔

" listen, city girl, you've got two choices: either you accept my offer for a ride, or you sit tight in your car until i fetch the part needed to get your engine going —and that won't be here until morning. my offer is purely from the kindness of my heart. plus, you're not pretty enough for me to do something stupid that would cause me trouble. "

#˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . ⌗ thread. ﹙ sam harrison ﹚ #˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . ⌗ starter. ﹙ open ﹚ #indie rp #oc rp #enemies to lovers please. he is my small town mechanic #small town boy x city girl plleeaassee

[jungle-angel]

Another bucket of Domestic Prompts

I have GOT to keep better track of this shit (lol). Dinner's on the table guys so eat up, I promise you, they're delicious and nice and warm and no worries, any of theses lists are always open (lol). Taking requests for Top Gun Maverick (any character), Outer Range, Bad Times At The El Royale, Catch 22 (Hulu), Salem's Lot, Press Play and coming soon......Lessons In Chemistry.

Skin-to-skin with the baby either before bed or in the shower

"I um.....I made you dinner"

Trip to the art museum

Screwing around in the college chemistry lab before Halloween because their s.o wanted to recreate Frankenstein

Reading to their kids before bed

Adopting a new pet

"Darlin the ghouls are hitching a ride in the laundry basket again!"

"I'M NOT TO BE DISTURBED!" (leads to smut)

The baby being born at home

Bringing tiny baby animals into the house before a big snowstorm

Fixing something that used to belong to a family member

Letting the grandparents watch the kids for the day

Prepping the house for winter

"You've been grading papers all day, you need a break"

"I hate grocery shopping"

Trying to keep the kids from ruining their good clothes before going to church and failing miserably

Making warm baked goods on a freezing, shitty day

Helping their s.o to relax after they've been working all day long

Having the whole family over for Sunday dinner

Their favorite activities for fall and winter with their s.o and their kids

FaceTiming their s.o at work while they're renovating a really horrible house

Storytime with the kids by the fireplace

Heating a blanket in the dryer for freezing cold nights

Sneaking food scraps to the dog/cat

Perfecting their skills in the kitchen with their s.o

Coming home late and tucking their children into bed

Nature based projects

Fixing an old quilt

Washing their s.o's nasty feet

"Will you stop sneaking my oatmeal cookies before dinner?!"

Telling the in-laws if the baby is a boy or a girl

Making homemade soap

Hot coffee or tea before bed

Taking a ride in the truck to put the baby to sleep

Trying not to cry when their baby starts crying while getting their shots at the doctor's

"You've been combing their hair for hours" "Sweetheart, I ain't risking a case of head lice in this house"

Dancing in the living room with their s.o

Warm hands (does lead to smut)

"What do you want me to make you for breakfast?"

"You didn't tell me you slept in the nude" (smut)

Having to rub their s.o's belly because they ate too much cheese

Their s.o keeping detailed notebooks full of their work studies

A night at the rodeo

"C'mon honey, crawl to daddy!"

"Dear the dog farted again" "Oh shut up, I know it was you!"

Finally being able to move into their dream home

Movie night

Getting ready for Thanksgiving a few weeks in advance

Putting on a show for their s.o in the bedroom (smut)

Their s.o and the dog teasing the baby

#top gun maverick #outer range #bad times at the el royale #catch 22 hulu #salem's lot #press play #lessons in chemistry #pete maverick mitchell #penny benjamin mitchell #bradley rooster bradshaw #robert bob floyd #natasha phoenix trace x oc #mickey fanboy garcia #jake hangman seresin #javy coyote machado #rhett abbott #miles miller #major major #ben mears harrison knott #calvin evans

[jackiequick]

Meet The Wells - Harry Wells Fic

Tv Show: The Flash

Setting: Season 4

Pairing: Harrison ‘Harry’ Wells x Leanna ‘Lea’ O’Conner

Featuring: One of the best characters on the show, Cisco Ramon!

—-

The morning everything pretty well. Team Flash was doing their usual work at S.T.A.R LABS. Discussing lunch breaks, new metas they possibly discovered, new experiments to create and plans for the weekend. That was until Harry mentioned friends.

Cisco sat up, “No he’s delusional. That’s because the lack of sleep he’s has been having. Uh, Harry friends are in here!”

Caitlin looked at Barry, who stood there confused, guessing that he’s being sarcastic.

“I got friends other than you guys! You will meet them.” Harry respond, siping his morning coffee.

Cisco gave his second girl a look and asked, “Lea help.”

“I-i know nothing about this.” Lea admitted with her hands up in defense.

“Ramon, believes i don’t got any friends. When i clearly do.” Harry yelled and sighed, typing away on his keyboard, “You told me to go make some friends, right?”

Cisco yelled back, “Yeah but last time i checked, you don’t have any friends besides us!”

Leanna who was tinkering with her tools looked up and nodded, “Yup! I did tell you that. Actually I’m curious to meet your friends, but I gotta hand some paperwork over to Joe first.”

She stood up, giving her boyfriend of 3 years now, a quick kiss on the cheek, in which Harry wraps his hand around her waist pulling her in for one more starling kiss. Clearly he was excited for today.

——

Cisco and Harry were in the speed lab being introduced to their scientific ragtag team of friends. But it wasn’t what Cisco suspected Harry’s friends to be. One of them even practically threw Cisco Ramon out of the speed lab for being annoyed and offended. Lea walked in, confused onto why her best friend ran out of there but her confusion came to a pause after what she see saw.

There stood right in front of her brown eyes the doppelgängers of Harrison Wells. Not 1, not 2, but 3 Harrison Wells in the speed lab. And if add Harry, that makes 4! In total stood 4 very different variants of Harrison Wells, going from one with gray hair and a turtleneck to one with war general uniform like he just lost an eyeball for God’s sakes.

She didn’t know to laugh at how insane this is or internally whine about this little endeavor being oddly weird for her. But at the same time she was very much integrated into this new situation. She met versions of Wells beforehand but this was completely different. Before she can even say a word or pull together another set of thoughts, when a voice called out to her. More or less a catcall followed by a cheeky whistle.

“Who is this little beauty queen? She’s finer than a flower on a summer morning!” Yelled out a rusty almost burnt blonde Wells in a red rode and slippers.

Lea didn’t realize they were staring at her that moment, quickly fixing her dark gray shirt with tiny daisies scattered all over and dark jacket she borrowed from her friend, Caitlin Snow, earlier that week. She firstly mouth a small “What the fuck?” to Harry as he jogged over swiftly taking her hand with ease. The man was clearly excited about this.

“Honey, come meet my new friend!” He exclaimed holding a grin, returning back to earlier spot but this time with her next to him, “This is Harrison Wolfgang Wells, H. Lothario Wells and Wells 2.0. Men, this is Leanna O’Conner.”

All 3 of them smiled at the lady. Wolfgang Wells stayed wondering his eyes at the brunette, as if he trying to pin point something in particular.

Lea had to just smile politically for the 3 idiots to go sight seeing on her, if allowed. Without a second later the women dragging Harry out into the hallway for a quick chat.

“Harry, honey, what the hell?!” She whispered yelled.

“What the hell? What do you mean ‘what the hell?’?” He whispered yell back.

“Are you out of your mind? Have you officially lost your marbles?!”

“You asked me to make some friends and that’s exactly what I did!”

“When I told you to make friends, I didn’t mean with yourself!”

“They’re technically NOT me! They’re my double hitting doppelgängers from other earths and one of the biggest baddest brightest mind out there.”

“Again! There’s literally 3 of you in that room, all three of them ready to make goo goo eyes at me and oh yeah, one of you is enough but a friend group of Wells that’s just—”

“Sweetie I can handle this. There is nothing to worry about, they’re just charming and intelligent people with different kinds of backgrounds. It’s gonna go great. I promise.”

“You promise? Cause—”

“Lea it’s fine! I got this.”

————

Once the couple walked back in, Lea announced the plan with Harry, but the second they all heard her voice they looked at her like 3 somewhat trained dogs. Harry had to scuff down a laugh, snorting a smidge.

Sandy hair blonde Wells aka H. Lothario Wells, grinned at her. He found her pretty and said, “Say, gorgeous you got any sisters? Or are you free this Sunday night?”

She blushed chuckling as she shook her head ‘No’ as Harry face them with a glare saying that Lea was HIS girlfriend. So hands off fellas!

Wells 2.0 spoke up, “I had a Lana on my earth…”

“Really? How was I like?” Lea asked, her eyes perked up curious about the answer.

“I wouldn’t know, she died or was it that she left the country? Oh well, i don’t remember! Ladies on my earth aren’t as nice looking as you.”

——————

The four of them kept talking, mainly Harry and his doubles, Lea just stayed sitting back writing on her iPad a few notes on an old equipment and equations. She listened every once in a awhile to their conversation, walking in and out of the lab to other part of the building or heading down to Jitters for some java.

Blowing a kiss to all 3 copies of Wells as she left. All of them stayed with a loopy and cheeky smiles after that. Harry Wells was the lucky one, he actually got a kiss of the cheek.

Returning with a coffee for her boyfriend, after handing one to Caitlin and Cisco she heard it. “Annie..” said the voice. It belongs to Wolfgang Wells, who staying eyeing her for the moment due stepped into the room in the first place. She rarely heard that nickname tossed around but it been said plenty of times beforehand. Only Cisco or Barry will throw that nickname out.

“That’s Leanna, not Annie, can you believe this guy fellas?” Replied Sandy Wells with a chuckling, figuring his doppelgänger was nuts in the head or something.

“No, Annie O’Conner..” Wolfgang Wells said once again with curiosity and confidence in his tone.

“Yeah he’s right.” Lea confirmed his wording, “Did you know a version of me, on your Earth?”

“My wife.”

“We’re married?”

Harry’s eyes darted towards them, mumbling, “You married a verison of her? When?”

“Yeah but I left her. Too much of a handful.” Wolfgang said with a shrug.

Lea gasped, “HANDFUL? I will have you know that I’m not a handful, you guys are. No offense, Harry..”

Wolfgang snickered, “You sound like her too! I left her cause we fell out of love, she was too uptight and I was too busy to care.”

“OUCH!”

“But I think still love her very much. Still, love is love. I think we all got a verison of this lady on our earths, right?”

Sandy Wells chuckled, “Mhmmmm! I do. She’s my 2 A.M bootycall. Speaking of which…”

Just like that, blondie wells was gone saying he got business to take care of. Leanna jaw dropped, meanwhile Harry held back a little smile, grabbing everyone’s attention back to the matter at hand.

All 3 men went back to work. But the looks Wolfgang and 2.0 didn’t go unnoticed, glancing at the half Asian brunette every once in a while. Both men saw something in her, and they liked it. Harry had to snap their towards himself instead and looping a hand on his girlfriend’s waist to signify that once again she’s taken!

The men were talking over one another and bickering more often than not about the topic. Honestly it was kinda hilarious.

Cisco walked in soon enough with a smile, “Soo Council Of Wells, how are we doing? Any progress or we just chitchatting about who’s smarter?” 

Leanna chuckled at the last part, because half of it was true.

Harry on the other hand groaned in annoyance, “It’s not going anywhere! We can’t even agree on what method to use.”

“What? You had an entire day.”

“I know! I know!”

“Is it cause Lana is distracting them?”

This time Lea spoke up, “HEY! Right here you know?! First we’re complimenting me, then you’re treating me like a diamond in the rough and now you’re insulting me?! What is it? Leanna Day and I didn’t get the memo?!”

“Well welcome to my life, girlfriend! Theses guys love to do the same thing to me! Ain’t so easy, isn’t it?” Cisco repiled back, tossing her a glare.

“Ohhh, so this is the way your framing this, huh?”

“I guess so, Annie!”

“Cisco I swear—!”

“Wait?”

“What?” Harry asked.

“Isn’t there a 3rd one? Isn’t there 3 of—”

He pointed out there was only 2 Wells standing there, not the original 3 from the beginning of the day. Harry was about to say something about it but as if on cue, Sandy haired Wells reappeared with a cheeky grin blabbing on about something.

Sandy turned toward the trio with a smile, “Oh sorry! Had to take care of some off camera business—”

“OHH MY GOD!” Cisco shouted holding a hand, covering whatever it was he didn’t want to see.

This Wells had his pants down, showing everything his mother gave him. Harry tried to looked away, his face accidentally saw it. Leanna just blinked, gasping as she turned around burying his face in her boyfriend’s black shirt.

“What?” Asked Sandy Wells softly , confused.

“I can see your Frank and beans.” Said Wolfgang, looking rather uncomfortable.

“Come on, now. Do my best thinkin' commando,” Sandy defends himself with a shrug, “Plus, it ain't like we all haven't seen it before. Especially, you little missy.”

“I haven’t seen it!” Cisco yelled, sounding funny and offended by the fact.

He shoots a wink Leanna’s way and she feel like she can’t help but peek her face towards all the men in the room. She saw so much more than clearly expected today! Like Jesus Christ! She rested her head, still sorta hiding her face in her boyfriends shirt.

She didn’t look confident or heroic in that moment.

Harry placed a comforting hand on her head, holding his lady while smiling at her embraced blushing and embarrassment.

Cisco held back a couple of laughs, “Aww! You’re traumatizing the poor girl! But seriously, dude put that away..please.”

Wolfgang agreed with Cisco for once.

“Ah, you Earth Folks. You are so uptight.” Sandy replied pulling up his pants.

“Ah, alright! Can we get back to the take at hand? We need answers.”

Suddenly all men started throwing out suggestions left and right, speaking over one another not allowing Cisco nor Harry to keep a full sentence in.

Lea’s ears were ringing loudly and she groaned in annoyance, “Okay! That’s enough!”

“Enough? We’re just getting started!” Add 2.0 Wells, in which causing another explosion of words being thrown around.

Clearly Harry was losing it having enough of this shit and yelled, “Guys! Guys! Ga—gentlemen!” Grabbing all their attention he continued, “Clearly this isn’t working. And just for the record, it’s not me, it’s you.”

With a simple push of a button, all three holograms disappeared, leaving the trio to themselves.

“This, was a bad idea.” Harry said walking back, placing his hands on his girlfriend’s shoulders whispering, “You okay?”

“It’s like your junk was burnt into my brain.” Cisco answered instead.

“Your welcome.”

Leanna did not answer or add into the previous statement, just walking out with a hand covering her ears silently. Harry and Cisco shared a tired look, figuring something bothered her..

——

Him and Cisco were talking for a bit, the genius still grumbling about what happened. That he needed to accept the facts and himself, since they are technically his doppelgängers but still. He didn’t truly like it too much.

Until he found her.

Harry found his girlfriend in his lab, scribbling in a notebook wearing her noise canceling headphones, that both him and Cisco carefully crafted her due to her meta human abilities, and playing with her bangs.

He sighed, knowing she was flashed today and practically felt just as insulted as he was. But because Leanna was more of a sensitive soul in the relationship, rather busy lately with Iris’s wedding planning, and helping the team with their issues. Along with the overheating bickering wasn’t probably too pleasant to her ears.

He winced, taking a marker to the whiteboard and tapping it against the clear sided screen. Harry walked over to her, tapping her shoulder and simply asked, “Hey, are you alright?”

“Hm?” She asked, removing her headphone registering what he said and chuckled, “Oh! Yeah honey I’m fine.”

“Isn’t that my line? Lea, honey, what happened? You kinda snapped at them.”

“Yeah well, so did you!…I, uh, umm wasn’t expecting today. Part of me knew something was gonna happen! I felt like I was being pulled left and right. I mean 4 Wells in one room, that’s overwhelmingly surprising and kinda chaotic..no offense.”

“None taken! They are just huge self minded, idiots. Uptight, roughly insulting, snooty and just jerks. I—I didn’t think it would go like that! Hell they flashed you and choose to make eyes at you the whole time. Treated you like you were an prize to be won and be thrown away…no one was paying attention to anything and just talking over one another! Jesus…”

Leanna stayed quiet hearing him rant about how he felt about the situation and the protection his mind created, recognizing things she didn’t notice until now. It made her feel better, knowing that she got the best Wells in the multiverse. All he wanted was to make some more friends and figure out a way to help with his teammates issues.

But instead, he realized that rather became a host and solid choice for a complete conversation than the other guys. He also felt sorta good about himself being one to unlock the door to an O’Conner’s heart unlike his counterpart.

“I uh, don’t take you for granted, you know?” Harry said, with a soft grin.

“I figured as much. You stayed.” She replied with a tired smile.

“Wolfgang had a version of you then lost you, 2.0 Wells was just gah not—the best thing with women and uh, Lothario was something else where uh, you know!”

Lea chuckled and nodded, “Oh I know! I..I know!”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh, “But in all seriousness, Leanna I love you and I’m so sorry you had to deal with that—us, today.”

“I’ve been part of Team Flash for so long, where something like that shouldn’t surprise me but it did. It was chaotic chapter for the books, but I really hope that doesn’t happen again!”

“It better not! I can’t take another moment with those guys. They’re one of the most annoying minds of the multiverse!”

“Harry, honey..”

“What?

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

She stood up from her chair, wrapped her arms around his middle and looked up at the man gently grinning. He looked down at her, placing a hand on the small of her back, smiled softly confused since she left her second line incomplete.

“For being you! You came to this Earth and took it as it is, trying to help it. And those idiots, didn’t have to FaceTime us but they did. Because you would’ve done the same thing.” She added.

“Of course I’ve would’ve, I kinda like you guys. Especially you and Dr. Snow.” Harry admitted.

“Most importantly, you fell for me. All those other versions of Lea and Wells don’t know what they’re missing.”

“Well, technically, this wasn’t planned. I came to another earth for one goal. But we sorta happened.”

“Do you regret it?”

He leaned down, cupping her cheek a bit, “No.”

“Why’s that?” She asked, leaning in.

“Because it proves my multiverse theory. Every version of you or me, ends up being with an such interesting partner.”

“I love that theory.”

“I know you do.”

Harry closed the space between them, tossing in a few solid pecks of Lea’s waiting lips. A couple of sweet nothings and laughs were thrown into the mix, chatting about getting Big Belly Burger later.

When suddenly..

“Oh come on!”

Came Cisco’s voice, standing at the door with his hands on his hips.

“Seriously? Y’all didn’t need my help making her feel better.” Cisco said.

Lea snorted and smiled, as Harry tossed his friend a playful grin, only ever reserved for Cisco Ramon. 

“We’re heading to Big Belly Burger later, you coming?” asked Lea.

“Oh hell yes!” He replied, replacing the frown with a smile, snatched up his friend from Harry into his arms for a hug and yelling, “She was mine first.”

——

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story ⚡️

Please don’t forget to like, share reblog

Tags: @yetanotherwells @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @mandylove1000 @msrochelleromanofffelton @hanlueluver @topgun-imagines @sherloquestea @superspookyjanelle @rooster-84 @bisexual-watermelons @withakindheartx @blackheart-beauty @blueboirick and etc.

#the flash fanfiction #the flash #harrison wells #harry wells x reader #harry wells #cisco ramon #multiverse #earth prime #arrowverse oc #arrowverse #caitlin snow #barry allen #iris west #westallen #the flash season 4 #fanfic writer #chole bennet #daisy johnson #the flash fic #the flash fluff #angsty #one shot

[twinscovercorner]

Today @oc-tober2023 theme is Promise and i pick Laura, my fnaf oc.

Story behind this, Michael is not ditched her, it take place before fnaf pizzaria simulator, Laura and mike started together, but during fire in pizzaria, Michael died in there and that's how she lost him forever.

FYI, Laura is my fnaf oc which i ship her with Michael Afton.

#oc tober #oc tober 2023 #inktober #original character #fan character #fnaf #fnaf oc #oc x canon #laura #laura harrison #michael afton #my ocs #my art

[shurishoe]

|•|Baby Boy|•|

Pairing: Riri x wakandan!FTM!Trans!Reader

Warning: none

Riri gently ran her fingers down your back, rubbing and pulling at your skin. She kneaded the knots away earning soft whimpers and groans from you, like music to her ears. “Y/n my love, I need you to take your binder off. It’s been over 8 hours” she whispered, her hand gently caressing your face. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~After getting you situated into a plain shirt she laid you down in her lap facing her “y/n” she said as you stared at the ground, you didn’t dare look at her. Everything was so stressing right now, Riri getting taken by the Wakandan’s, then Talokan, then Riri reveals she’s gonna be a super hero named open heart. It was all so confusing when you found out which put more stress on you as you worried about your girlfriend, but you didn’t show that.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a kiss being placed on your chin, Riri smiled softly. “Do I have your attention now my sweet boy?” She asked and you nodded “Yes Ri” you whispered as you leaned your head into her shoulder “Thank you baby, c’mon. We gotta go eat” she said as she picked you up and climbed onto of bed, setting you down when she reached the edge.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

You found yourself standing behind her with your hands around her waist, looking down at her while she cooked. “Hey baby boy?” She said “Yes?” You mumbled softly “Can you grab that for me my love?” She said pointing to a wooden spoon. Your nimble fingers wrapped around it and handed it to her to which she smiled and gave you a kiss before she continued to cook.

When she finished she made plates and led you to your shared room, sitting down she handed you the plate. “Made your favorite” she said with a smile as you nibbled at the food. “Thank you Sthandwa” you said as you looked at her.

Riri was everything, she was strong and sweet, her eyes were like honey and her voice brought a smile to your face everytime you heard it. You practically melted for her, she knew it.

When you finished with your food she set you plates to the side before turning on the Tv and opening her arms, you gladly accepted the invitation and crawled into her lap. Curling into a ball as she toyed with your hair, slowly drifting off.

@prettyluhlaiiii

@misoosprings

@pumpkinmcqueen

@rebellious-mutant

@justariellove

@katymae12344

@bbxnny-bbxtch

@mlmilani

@m1s41ly

@takeyaki

#shuriri #shuri x reader #riri williams #black panther #wakanda forever #jamie urban hymn #jamie harrison #riri williams x reader #riri x oc #riri mcu #ririwilliams smut #shuri x riri #riri x reader

[meshlasolus]

Temple of the Forbidden Eye (2)

Indiana Jones x OC

Series Summary: The relationship between student and teacher is strictly professional, or at least it should be. He’s never met his match in archeological intelligence, and if he ever does, it might drive him to do something stupid. 

A/n: The amount of people who actually read the first chapter veery much surprised me because Indy barely gets enough love anymore but bro I’m so happy y’all liked it and I love this man so I will fr try and update this more often.

Warnings: i don’t even know what counts as a warning for this series tbh… old fashioned ways of thinking i suppose??

(Co-written by the lovely @theatrelove3000 you guys should go give her a follow)

There was a warm wind that swept through her hair as she rounded the corner of the block. She looked back down at her note, tucked into the top of her book. This was in fact the correct street, but it looked so different than how she imagined. Her old mentor described the great Indiana Jones as the world’s most accomplished archeologist, and for all the daring and adventurous stories she’d been told, she couldn’t possibly imagine him living in a quaint neighborhood like this, all lined with picket fences and well maintained front lawns. 

She read the mailboxes, seeing the iron letters hanging on each one, signifying each house’s address, finding the one next to the end of the cul-de-sac and checking the small paper slip once more to confirm that this was the right house. It was older looking, more warm and inviting than the others. It didn’t appear as perfectly manicured as the other cookie cutter houses. It looked lived in. Like a home. the corners of the walls had chipped paint, and water lines from rain. 

Class today had gone the same as always, her professor hadn’t even stopped her on the way out, or in the hall as he was leaving the building. It was just another day for him, as it should be for her. She couldn’t help her nerves though, as she strode up to the front door, ready to knock. Hesitation was only momentary, as a deep breath was inhaled, and she laid three firm raps on the door. 

While waiting for the occupant of the house to open said door, she turned and looked around her on the porch. There were some interesting looking plants that she didn’t recognize as being from this country, or any she’d heard of thus far. They must be exotic, small reminders of his work in the field. She smiled at the thought of his worldly travels, it all seemed so exciting, and she was enthralled to one day embark on such journeys.

Her head whipped back to the door as the old creaking hinges brought her back to reality. Still nervous, she was smiling wide, but her hands were shaking. Calm down, she had to think to herself. This is just a part of your work.

“Hi,” she said in a released breath, holding her hands together to quell their rapid movements. He gave a slight chuckle and smirked. She seemed far less confident here than in the classroom setting. Maybe when she was there she felt the need to prove herself. “I hope I’m not too late, I got a bit lost on the way.”

“You walked here?” he tilted his head, looking around behind her to see if there was at least someone to drop her off. Not a car in sight, or even another person for that matter. She was completely alone… which to him didn’t seem quite safe. 

“Yes, I like walking places,” she mentally cursed herself for such a stupid sentence to come from her lips. She had been working for years to get here, she’d hoped it all wouldn’t be ruined by a few airheaded remarks. Professor Jones did not share the sentiment. Though he thought it sweet and endearing that she enjoyed something so simple as taking walks, he also saw the signs of her nerves the second he opened the door, and figured she’d be more calm once the work began inside. 

“Well, you’re not late at all, in fact,” he held the door open for her to follow him in, shutting it behind her when her feet were on the hardwood floors. You took a moment to look around the entranceway before he stepped forward. “I just got everything set up in the office.”

You looked at the unique pieces in his living room, all from different cultures and dynasties. They were very interesting, but you noted that not one piece in the room was real, only a copy of something he had found in the past. He believed that all precious artifacts belonged in a museum, and he’d be damned if he went along in hypocrisy and kept a rare treasure for himself. That wasn’t part of his job, he didn’t take trophies. 

“See something you like?” he noticed her slowing down behind him, only turning when in his peripheral she wasn’t there. He took in her studious look of curiosity, watching as she gazed from one item to another. “Bet you can’t tell which one is real.” 

She looked at him with a surprised look. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Of all the days in her life to be flustered and speechless, this should not have been the day. She opted instead not to say a word, but to close her mouth and get closer to the pieces in the room. All she had to do was take into account one thing, and then she was sure. 

“This map,” she pointed to it on the encasing table in the corner of the room, turning back to him with a straight face. 

He nodded, seemingly impressed with how quickly she figured it out. Perhaps she had been earlier trained in detecting markings on old parchment, or maybe she’d learned how to differentiate aged ink from reprinting, she may have possibly even known the map from-

“It wasn’t that hard, it’s the only thing in here covered in glass.”

Well, so much for that. He supposed deductive reasoning was also a good skill, and she was quick on her heels to notice it so fast. He chuckled, smiling genuinely at her now confident and forward demeanor. She was very sure of herself, almost like that of his colleagues. 

“Huh,” he shook his head, letting whatever thought that entered his mind to pass when he did. It wasn’t a bad thought, a very true one, actually. She used common sense to do something that every other student in his classroom would take hours to figure out. She was  intelligent in her studies, but she was also just smart. Possibly a gifted mind like his. He hoped he’d soon unravel all her hidden talents and abilities, as he knew she was already more than just a student in his class. She was dedicated, and confident in her studies like no other boy in his class had ever been. 

“Something wrong?” She asked, her head tilted slightly as her brows furrowed in confusion. She didn’t know if he was impressed, or if she had upset him in some way. She knew better than to speak so plainly with a man in this field, but she couldn’t help but feel more comfortable to do so around his presence. The others would shoot her down, remind her of her place, but he had encouraged her, so why shouldn’t she?

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he shook his head, not sure if he should explain himself or not. It didn’t seem that important, and there was work to be done, so he continued down the hall again, calling out for her to come with him. “Follow me.”

As soon as she entered the room she was filled with a ghastly surprise. The sacred office and workspace of the great Indiana Jones, where he conducted business as well as studied ancient artifacts… was a complete mess. Papers in stacks all across the room, with folders opened to random pages and thrown half-hazardly in different spots. There were even large books, the texts in which broke down great historical landmarks, maps, and hidden treasures of the world. There wasn’t exactly a pattern to which they had been pulled from the shelves, as they didn’t seem to connect with one another at all. 

Her face scrunched up with slight disgust, not expecting to see that her favorite professor was in fact, a slob.

“The plan is to find my paper on Degas Painting. I’ve already started organizing different reports into separate categories; and I think if we work for a few hours we can make some decent progress on finding it.” 

He journeyed further into the room, careful not to step on any papers on the floor. She was still at a loss for words. It was only when he looked up and met her eyes that she had something to say. 

“How can you work with such a mess around you?” She laughed, disbelief covered her expression, and he saw her mind turning the gears within her head. What was she thinking about?

“It may look that way to some, but I know where everything is.”

“Except for your paper on Degas Painting.”

-

Thirteen minutes. He had left her alone to search for only thirteen minutes. There was an important phone call that he simply couldn’t miss, and it lasted for a duration of thirteen minutes. How in that time could she have managed to do this? When he hung up the phone, he walked back into the room, assuming she’d be right where he left her. No, she was not, and how could he have been so foolish as to think that the most intelligent student in his very prestigious class would have sat there clueless without him? 

His eyes were wide, and his jaw was nearly slack as he scanned the room. Not only were all the papers filed away in their respective folders, but they were organized on the desk. Every little thing had been put away, he assumed in orderly fashion. Hell, he took a few steps into the room and saw the paper he was looking for laying by itself on the desk. The bolded letters ‘Degas Painting’ in black ink were clear as day. He’d been searching for it for days, going through stacks and stacks of files to try and recover it for his class. He looked up to you in the corner, scanning the bookshelves as you placed books back where they went. The most noticeable thing he saw? His hat had been removed from his desk, and she wore it on her head. He had half a mind to walk across the floor and take it back, without even saying a word. 

He wasn’t angry, but somewhat irritated that she’d moved all his things, which he’d spent days looking through. He also found it somewhat annoying that his new apprentice was already better at the job than he was. But she’s never been in the field, he reminds himself. 

He huffed a long breath, placing his hands on his hips as he narrowed his eyes at her. She finally turned around, having seen that he came back, and there was a sweet smile laid widely across her face. She was clearly proud of the work she had accomplished, and he’d hate to negate the good work, but there was still the matter of his prized high-crowned sable fedora. 

“That’s my hat,” he pointed to it, his tone more firm, but not aggressive. She would moreso describe it as possessive. 

She was quick to take it off of her head, holding it gently within her hands in an attempt to ease his mind. 

“I’m sorry,” she suddenly felt the need to explain herself, looking around the room in an attempt to avoid looking at him. He got this upset over a hat? “It’s just that, it took up space on the desk, and I didn’t really know where to move it.”

He came up to where she stood, snatching away the hat and placing it on his own head. It wasn’t done spitefully, in fact, she almost laughed at the comedic way he adjusted it after. He must really like his hat, it seemed like his most important possession. He wore it well, she noted that right away.

“You found the paper,” he crossed his arms, nodding slightly to her in thanks, but not giving too much recognition away. “And you cleaned my office.” 

She wasn’t sure if he was still upset about the hat, or if he was genuinely offended by the fact that she had gone outside of her instruction and done what she wanted. She’d hoped he might be pleased with her efforts, but of course, she was probably just assuming too much of her favorite professor… again.

“I promise I put everything away as it was organized, I even put the books back in alphabetical order,” She defended, walking two steps back to the bookshelf and letting him see for himself. This was the best his office had looked in years, with everything being in perfect order like he’d never gotten around to maintaining it before. “I’m sorry that I didn’t ask, I just thought that it might be easier for you-”

“You did good, kid,” he smirked, getting her to stop her mindless rambling. His small nod of approval made her smile, her nerves fading away again as her chest filled with pride. 

He thought she had done good, and with that she was pleased.

-

The small sofa against the wall of his office was practically sunken in by how long the weight had been placed upon the cushions. It had been many, many hours since they sat down to go through the paper and yet neither of them seemed to notice. The sun had gone down ages ago and they had needed to turn on lamps to continue.

At some point in the evening, she had gotten hungry. When she asked if he had something to eat, he responded, "I eat when the work is done." Which… wasn't very comforting as given the state of his office when she arrived, he was clearly never 'done working.' 

Professor Jones had given her permission to go check his kitchen to find some food, but his kitchen was arguably worse than his office. It was perfectly clean, that wasn't the problem. The problem was the lack of food he has. He has a total of three cans of soup, one half of a loaf of sliced bread and a jar of peanut butter.

"Professor?"

He hummed in acknowledgement, not looking up, though she required his attention.

"Are you dead? Or… undead or something?"

That got his attention, "Um… what?"

"Undead. Are you actually alive?"

Doctor Jones was genuinely baffled for a second or two. He’d been surprised by her antics nearly all day, and yet, there was still more to her that came with every word she said. Her joking tone obviously indicated she was mocking him for something, but he was unsure of the reason this time around.

"You're not making any sense,” he paused, finally glancing up from his work to respond with effort. “What are you even talking about?" He sounds a little annoyed now..

"You have nothing to eat," she says, gesturing in the direction of the kitchen. She was sure he’d known this, or at least hoped he did, otherwise her jokes of the ‘undead professor’ may not seem so far-fetched.

"Sure I do."

Lies. She searched high and low in every cabinet and corner of that kitchen. It wasn’t hard to deduce that there wasn’t anything there. It was quite clear to anyone with a half decent set of eyes. 

"No, actually… You don't. You don't have any food. So are you?"

He rolled his eyes, but knew she was probably right. He never went into that kitchen, and barely even remembered to shop for food on a regular basis. He’d always get food from the cafeteria of the University, or better yet, any new place he found on the walk home that looked suitable to his picky taste. 

"Miss Ledger-"

"I know that you said you don't eat until the work is done, but based on the state of your kitchen, I'm assuming that you just don't eat… Ever," she crossed her arms, trying to think of how he could possibly get along on his own. He didn’t seem to be married, or have a roommate, and she highly doubted he found himself in the company of his peers while at home. 

He huffed a bit and tossed the paper on the coffee table in front of him. He looks over at Scarlett, watching her for a moment. She's more… for lack of a better word, mouthy than most women he's met. It's actually nice. Refreshing, even. Not even the male students he's worked with would speak to him like this. It's clear that she knows her value and is happy to be herself, even around authority. Though sometimes annoying, especially right now, he would do his best to encourage that the attitude stays the same, as it would do well for her if she were to continue in this industry. 

"Yes, I do eat. No, I'm not an undead individual. More often than not, I get food in a restaurant or at school. I don't go shopping for it very often," His tone is calm, though dripping with sarcasm at the beginning, "If you are that hungry, I can go get something, but I'm about ninety percent sure there is at least a can of soup in there."

"So you only eat soup when you're at home?"

It was funny to try and imagine him, the world renowned Professor Jones, hovering over a small pot at the stove whilst he stirred a batch of soup from a can in his pantry. She didn’t know why, but it amused her. 

"Or a sandwich."

"Yes, because that's so much better," Her tone matched his, impressing him yet again. There were few people in the world that could keep up with his wit and never-ending sarcasm. She reminded him of himself, so much it almost frightened him.

He sighed a little. Dropping his head to hide the smile, he shakes his head slightly. "I'll eat if you make enough for both of us, since it bothers you so much."

She was almost satisfied… but there was still one fact of the matter that continued to reign true.

"That still leaves the problem of you having no food," her pointed look was enough to make him smirk. He really was impressed with her demeanor. She was relentless, now that she’d been given his approval. He wondered if she would be so forward now, if he had been so reassuring to her efforts before. 

"Just make the soup, there's enough in there. I know that for a fact."

She huffs and turns on her heel, calling over her shoulder, "fine. But I'm going to make you go grocery shopping so you have at least something with protein to eat."

He laughs quietly, going back to his work. When she returns, she has a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a piece of bread for each of them. They continue to work while they eat, and though the silence is deafening, it’s comfortable, and welcomed. 

A few hours later, he catches a movement out of the corner of his eye. She was resting with her head in her hand, arm propped up on the back of the sofa. He turns back to the paper but she moves again. He turns to look at her fully this time and notices her eyes are half closed. Interesting. The movement he was seeing was her nodding off and waking herself back up. He wondered if he had kept her for too long, or if she might be upset that there was so much work to be done. He thought about how dedicated she was, though, and knew she was probably just tired from a long day of work.

Turning back to look at the clock across the room, he realized what time it was. As he went to wake her up, he remembered that she had walked there. He may live in a better neighborhood but that didn’t mean it was safe for a young woman to walk alone at night, and he didn’t have a clue as to where she might live. After thinking about his options for a moment, and taking stock of his own wakefulness, he decided that it was too late for him to drive her home. He set the papers he was holding down, and leaned over to take the ones she had out of her hand. The feeling of papers falling woke her again and she tried to tighten her hold on them, but they were already in her professor's grasp.

“I have a guest room. I’ll walk you up there. Do you need something more comfortable to sleep in?” His voice sounded raspy and tired, even to his own ears. His offer was rushed out, and hadn’t been thought through completely, but she understood well enough in her dreary state.

“I’m sorry, what’s happening?” She reaches up to rub the sleep out of her eyes, sitting up straight again. The sweet and quiet tone she held was such a contrast to her bellaring complaints of his lack of food from earlier. It made him smile to see yet another side of his favorite student. He’d realized by now that she was.

“You are dozing. It’s too late for me to, in good conscience, allow you to walk home alone and I am not in any state to drive you. You are going to stay here for the night.”

As harsh as it sounded, he was right. It wasn’t safe, nor was it in her best interest to even leave the walls of this house at this hour. She, of course, had other thoughts on the matter, having walked home in far worse conditions before, though it was foolish in anyone’s book.

“Oh- No, Professor, it’s alright. I don't mind going home, I don't want to intrude."

"You aren't intruding. I'm offering,” he insisted, taking the papers she tried to retrieve from the table. It was by far the time to call it a night.

"Professor-" She seemed mildly uncomfortable at his suggestion, though it was more of a demand. He doesn’t want anything from her and she could tell based on his demeanor. He just wanted her to be safe and get a decent night's rest. There was no harm in it by any means, but based on how it might look in the eyes of others, she still had to think it through. These may be modern times but there were societal norms and expectations. A young woman staying the night in her professor’s house would not be considered acceptable by any means.

"Miss Ledger, have you ever heard the phrase 'nothing good ever happens after two a.m.?'" He asked with a slanted look on his face, brows raised in suspicion. He made it up on the spot, but still asked for the heck of it, and to hopefully lead her to agree with him faster.

"No but-"

"In my experience, it's very true. It's now two-thirty.You're staying here,” The tone of finality in his voice was more than clear. He wasn’t going to back down and gave no other option than for her to agree. He wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing he allowed his best student to walk across town in the middle of the night, while barely keeping her eyes open from the exhaustion that weighed on her shoulders.

She looked at him, then at the clock, and with a heave of her shoulders, she’d decided it was probably best that she stay where it is guaranteed she will be safe. He was renowned worldwide for being a grand explorer, surely he was a better option than the streets after midnight.

“Alright,” she conceded, nodding to him firmly. He noticed she seemed more comfortable now that the subject was put to rest.

“Thank you. I don’t have the energy to argue with you about your own safety right now,” He smiles gently and stands up off the sofa, offering his hand to help her up. His smile, even in her barely awake state of mind, was warm and genuine. She didn’t think he could smile like that, as she’d witnessed too many smirks and side eyes from the man in the last several hours to consider it as a possibility.

She smiled back and took his hand. “To be entirely honest, neither do I.” 

That made him grin. He likes her, more than he would care to admit. She not only reminded him of himself, but also offered opposite attributes. He couldn’t wait to work alongside her on a project, for he felt their personalities and skills would compliment the other perfectly. 

Gesturing with his arm for her to go first, he let her walk out of his office then led her through the house. He opened the door to the guest bedroom, which she saw was perfectly clean, if not a little dusty. He leaves her for just a moment and comes back with an old shirt and pair of sleep pants he hadn’t worn in a long time. He gives directions to the restroom before bidding her goodnight and heading to bed himself.

When he woke up the next morning, he had hoped to bid her a good day, but the door to the guest room was open, and peeking in, he saw no sign of her, but the bed was perfectly made and the clothes he gave her were folded and sitting on the end. She had even dusted off the surfaces. 

He was only slightly upset to find that she had left so early, for the signs of her being there were clear, and he felt he could get accustomed to the look of it.

-

Tags: @justanothersadperson93 @sparklytoaster

#indiana jones #indiana jones x reader #indiana jones x oc #Temple of the forbidden eye #disneyland #harrison ford

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

A Khan By Any Other Name

moodboard by @strangelock221b

summary: Pre Star Trek Into Darkness. John Harrison (Khan), on the run from Admiral Marcus, is on mission to save his people, and presses a good Samaritan to help in his quest. Though initially against her will and amid a variety of dangers, Seraphina DiPietro quickly discovers her sympathy for his plight--as well as her attraction to him--becoming irresistible.

characters: Khan Noonien Singh (aka John Harrison), Seraphina DiPietro (OFC)

rating: MATURE/18+

word count: 4.5k

excerpt from chapter ten

...Khan pulled the hovercraft into the darkened lot of a modest, little roadside inn.  Their agreement to stop for the night remained unspoken, as though a spell of sorts had fallen over the both of them.  Neither cared to look back upon their deadly encounter, let alone discuss it—but each silently recognized a change in the dynamic of their relationship.

Once Sera had arranged for their lodging, he backed the craft into the space in front, leaving it to face the wooded area behind the inn, positioned so to facilitate a quick departure should it be necessary.

“I paid for two nights, just in case,” she revealed, her voice grown soft in the quiet of the room, as he bolted the door behind him, “I thought, it’s so late already and perhaps…well perhaps we might not be…be ready to leave at…checkout time.”  She shrugged, tongue-tied now that they were alone, surely feeling the full import of having shut the rest of the world away.

The room was simply furnished; the only difference he discerned, from typical night lodgings of his time, was a viewing screen that took up at least three-quarters of the wall across from the bed.  Seraphina left her bags sitting on a chair, and set about unpacking the items she had purchased for them; an assortment of protein bars, several types of fruit, and bottled water.  “I wasn’t exactly sure what you would like, but these should do alright—don’t you think?”

“Of course,” he answered, careless of the objects in question, focused only on the steady current thrumming between them.

“And I got a few things you might need,” Seraphina continued, her words spilling out in a nervous rush, “A toothbrush and a razor; a clean shirt—I hope it’s okay, I just guessed at the size.  And…um…a change or two of…underthings…” 

She trailed off, as Khan moved closer, stilling herself completely as he ran a hand up from the small of her back, to leave it resting between her shoulder blades.  He spoke softly, reassuringly, against her ear, “I’m sure all is exactly as I need.”  Her sudden, aching vulnerability was dizzying him, and making him want to slowly savor every moment to come, despite how his true need was growing stronger with each breath he drew.     

She gave the quietest little moan as he stroked her cheek, and then turned her face up to his so he might lay a soft kiss on her mouth.  “Seraphina,” he exhaled against her lips, “My unexpected, little miracle.”  He kissed her again, and again, and again, never going deep, teasing himself as much as he teased her, making her want to go deep but denying her at the same time.  “Be mine, Seraphina,” he insisted between the tender tease of each kiss, “Be mine…be mine…be mine…”

“Is this real…is this really happening,” she whispered, even as she craned her neck enough to encourage him to paint a trail of moist kisses upon her throat.  Khan slid his palms down to cup her breasts, rubbing his thumbs hard against her nipples, and delighting as she arched into his hands.

He nuzzled his way back to her ear, softly rumbling his answer, “The most real thing I’ve known, in more years than you could possibly imagine,” punctuating his lonely secret by gently tugging her earlobe between his teeth.  It drew from her a surprised gasp, as she tightened her grip on his biceps.  He thought her as ripe and willing as any woman he had ever taken, reading in the way she trembled against him further proof of her desire—until her plaintive tone broke through his fog of lust.

“Please, John…oh please.  Just let me breathe a moment.  We’re moving so fast…and I…oh god,” she panted, struggling for the right words to say, “I want you, I want this…I just…I’ve never been the kind of woman who falls into bed with a man she barely knows…”

Khan backed away, dazed by her seeming refusal, and blinking slowly through the stupor of hard desire. Stymied by her mixed signals, he growled more harshly than he should have, “Woman, what is it you would ask of me?”

She shook her head, moving close and laying her hand against his cheek. “Only that you give me a chance to catch up to you.  That you just—please--bear with me a little bit.  You’re quite…” she swallowed hard, searching his face for understanding, “…quite a force of nature, you know.”  Seraphina bowed her head a moment, sounding a little overwhelmed, “I want to choose this of my own volition, and not because you’ve swept me up in the power of your…” she met his eyes again, her face a perfect mix of guilelessness and longing, and sighed as she told him, “…your beautiful will.”

As potent as was his desire for her, Khan knew in his heart that he must concede to her soft entreaty.  Recalling their delicious trespass all those hours ago—and relishing her sweet fragility now—he realized that he had no true choice but to be patient…for she was a prize well worth waiting for.  

He turned from her, not out of anger or frustration, but because he needed to cool his ardor for a time.  “How prettily you test me, my sweet desert rose,” he grumbled, “So that in this, I must bow to your will.”  He paced to the far side of the room, restless and aching for satisfaction.  Stopping near the window, he parted the drapes enough to peer outside, trying to distract himself from the seething heat in his blood.  Khan heard her quiet ‘thank you, John’, and muttered an acknowledgement, registering that she had moved into the bathroom without looking her way.

By the time that she emerged, he had kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the bed, managing to calm himself and quiet his hunger.  His eyes were closed, as he concentrated purely on breathing; he felt Seraphina approach, but remained still until she cautiously addressed him.

“I suppose I ought to look at that cut now.  At least clean it up, see that it doesn’t get infected.”

He opened his eyes, to find her beside him, a damp washcloth in her hands. A sweet act of conciliation, he thought; how very like her.  Though it was unnecessary—his genetic makeup endowed him with a superior immune system, meaning he was seldom prey to illness or infection—he decided to allow it.  It would be ill of him to reject her simple act of kindness.

“Thank you,” Khan murmured, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, leaving room so she might sit beside him.  He pulled his shirt off, discarding it on the floor—completely unprepared for her reaction.

The moonlight in the alley had been enough for Seraphina to excise that insidious tracker from beneath his flesh, but far from enough for her to note his true condition.  She gasped at first, then fell mute, moving a step back to take in the full picture.  In his unwavering focus on getting to London, Khan had put the pain he had endured--at Marcus’s behest--behind him, and so had not given a thought to how he would appear to her.  At her gasp he looked up at her, wordless himself, to explain the sight confronting her.     

Remaining silent, Seraphina studied the map of ugly bruises on his shoulders and torso, her eyes the widest he’d seen them yet.  When she finally found her voice, it was hushed and sorrowful, “Who…who did this to you?”  

Khan blinked several times, fascinated by the minute tremble of her lips; she was holding back some strong emotion, and on his account.  “Unimportant,” he replied dispassionately, “And safer for you not to know.”  And then, uncharacteristically, he looked away, the soft, sympathetic regard in her eyes and the set of her mouth nearly too much to bear.  What was it about her that made him want to appear invincible?  He would not have her think him a victim of any kind.  “These will heal rapidly, and any pain that ordinary men must feel…I…I simply do not.  I master it; it does not master me.”  Of course, he did not add that these sort of injuries would put an ordinary man in the hospital, perhaps clinging to life even with all the medical care available—well, in his time, anyway.  Today, he supposed, the broken ribs would be easily knit, the punctured lungs child’s play to repair.

“Oh, John…why? These men you’re running from…why…why would they beat you so?”  Sera moved closer, cautious and concerned, and he remained still as she sat by his side on the edge of the bed, knowing she wanted to touch him, and realizing he needed the tender mercies she would be offering. 

Nearly every conscious moment since he’d been awakened, Khan had waged his lonely battles—physical, mental, emotional—a stranger in a cold, sterile world that valued him for only that which it could rip from him against his will.  He had withstood the rounds of relentless, merciless tests, the repeated psychological games meant to break him, and finally the methodical, repeated beatings administered by men who knew the exact effect of each blow upon the human body (though he was superhuman, even Khan had some limits to his physical endurance, and his captors had explored those limits in every possible way).  Yes, Khan had borne each outrage against his mind and his flesh, reaching deep inside himself for the patience to sustain him, burying the anger and the hate for a future day when he would make Alexander Marcus and his minions pay the most painful and deadliest of prices.  And not once had he sought compassion or clemency, focusing solely on surviving, never imagining a man such as himself would be afforded simple human kindness, even wondering at times if such soft inclinations had finally been bred out of the human race.

Yet here was this kindhearted woman, proving that benevolence did exist in a hard world, reaching out to comfort him.  He’d thought he might wince when she laid her hand upon him, for some of his wounds were still tender, but she touched him gingerly, almost reverently.  Khan would have refused her advance if he’d seen pity in her eyes, but that was not her way.  “John,” she said--her sadness mixed with an irresistible huskiness that left him feeling weak, and hungry at the same time--laying her other hand against one of the lighter bruises, “Let me help you…let me make this right somehow.”  Khan closed his eyes, silently acquiescing, allowing her to move her hands across his skin, letting go at last.  Such tenderness, he realized, had far more power over him that the violence he had endured, answering most unexpectedly, the ache in his soul for true human connection.  Too many lifetimes of men had passed since he’d felt a woman’s touch.  And so gentle a touch as this.  Too many ages.

Slowly, then, and lightly at first, Seraphina began to trace his skin with her fingertips.  Small circles to begin with, and then fanning out a little at a time, from his shoulders and along his collarbone.  She smoothed her palms upon his chest, and his breathing deepened in time with her movements.  She was soothing and stirring him by patient touch alone, and when he exhaled her name she moved in close and began to kiss his neck.  Slow, sweet, and fleeting kisses, coupled with the brush of her hair against him.  Khan leaned his head back a little as her kisses became fuller and more insistent, lingering at the hollow of his throat, and beginning a descent along his sternum. 

His ribs on either side bore the worst of his bruises, but Seraphina caressed them with the greatest care, while brushing her parted lips across his chest, and teasing him with butterfly kisses as she neared where he was most sensitive. He groaned deeply at the electric sensation when she danced the tip of her tongue around his areola, narrowing her circles until she flicked it against the hardened nub at its center.  The urge to touch her was nearly overwhelming him to give back in kind, and even more—yet he longed to lose himself a while still in the exquisite comfort she was giving.  He lost track of time and any sense of place, only aware of the exacting patience of her hands and her lips, her dear, familiar scent, and the shared rhythm of their breathing.

When she withdrew, she rose from his side without a word, so that he opened his eyes to watch her pull her blouse over her head, and drop it at her feet.  Her skin was healthy and unblemished—and in the low light of the quiet room—lightly tanned in contrast to the pale pink of her bra. Khan’s mouth watered at the sight of her nipples beneath the cottony material, little buds drawn tight, sure sign of her desire for him; he ached to take them in his mouth, to tease them with his tongue, and graze them with his teeth, imagining the sort of noises she would make in reply.  A wave of lust coursed through his belly and below, sharply demanding satisfaction, but he made no move as he waited to see how she would proceed. 

Seraphina stood before him in the beautiful prime of womanhood--and in his eyes, her kind and gentle nature was as manifest in her appearance as her lovely physical attributes.  He felt no surprise at the tears of empathy that spilled from her eyes, her pupils fully dilated as she drew nearer; and he knew he’d soon taste the salty trails those tears left upon her cheeks.  Oh he would taste them; he would taste all of her surely, for he read her intent in how she moved, and in the soft, quick pant of her respiration.  She will taste like a desert rose, he reckoned, his body grown ready for her: I will drink myself full of the sweet nectar of my desert rose. 

Then she was slipping off her huaraches and sliding her skirt down past her hips, shimmying a bit until the fabric fell in a puddle around her bare feet.  The waistband of her panties lay low, skimming across her bikini line, tempting him to reach for her and pull her close, so to hook his fingers inside the thin elastic band and tug away the soft fabric that covered her mound.  He wanted to learn the scent of her arousal, to dip his fingertips and tongue into her secret places, and to make all the precious wonders of her supple young body his. 

Khan stood up without prompting, reaching for her; Seraphina’s small, pure smile dazzled him as she moved into his offered arms, delectably compliant as he unhooked her bra, slid the straps down, and then cast it on the floor.  He exhaled hard at the sight of her revealed, his wonder undeniable, “Perfectly lovely…exactly as I expected.”  She lowered her eyes a moment, then met his gaze again, clearly pleased with his appraisal.  On most women, this might appear as the pretense of modesty, but Khan already knew her well enough to know this was no artifice.  

Seraphina slid one arm around his neck, laying her other hand on his shoulder, and began to kiss his neck again.  Flesh on flesh at last, he was aware of every inch of her skin against his; it’s heat a match to his, her smooth, firm breasts pressed tight to him, the muscles of her abdomen as taut and enticing as he’d imagined.  He slipped his hands down her back and inside her panties, cupping her bare bottom so that she moaned deliciously.  There would be no stopping now, this course that had been destined from nearly their first words to one another.

Seraphina leaned back, resting most of her weight in his hands, and then gazed up at him, looking sweet and wanton all at once.  He darted in quick to take her lips in full, thrusting his tongue into her mouth; Khan shivered as she laved her tongue against his, then sucked it boldly, before pulling away.  A lascivious tease, he thought, and one he would be very glad to repay—until she rested the crown of her head against his chest, so she could focus on undoing his jeans with both hands.  She pushed them past his hips and down his thighs, leaving him to shuck them off the rest of the way while she returned her attention to his mouth, nipping at his lips while she pressed her pelvis against his.  Her eager fingertips strayed past the waistband of his underwear, progressing from his back and around to just beneath his navel, her goal quite clear.  He allowed her to smooth her fingers through the springy curls of his pubis, allowed her the touch she so hungrily sought; her fingers were cool upon his heat as she began to run them along the ridges of his hardened phallus.  Khan grunted, tightening his grip on her bottom, making her whimper her affirmation.

But then--by pure force of will--he clamped his hands on her wrists, growling against her ear, as he withdrew her hands from their intimate quest, “Not quite yet, my divine little temptress.  You must ripen even more before I take you.”  Though it felt like forever since he’d had his satisfaction, Khan knew he could master his lust a while yet before that inevitable urge overtook him.  Seraphina sagged against him, moaning her frustration softly; certainly confused, but rife with desire and ready to follow his every whim.

He laid her gently on the bed, pausing to watch her a bit, reading her need in her rapid respiration and in the soft curves of her breasts, waist and hips.  Slowly, he peeled her panties away, purposely breathing deep so that she would see he had caught her scent, and telling her, “You are mine now, Seraphina.”  He ran one hand up from her knee to the juncture of her thighs, stretching his fingers wide and resting his thumb in her soft thatch of hair, his face inches above hers, “As you have wished from the first moment I caught you in my arms.”  Khan kissed her brow, while moving his thumb closer to her slit, his voice a rough caress, “Tell me if this isn’t so.”

Seraphina blinked slowly, then nodded her head, and smiled softly up at him, “Yes, John.  Yes, I am…yes, I wanted this.  I want you.”  Revelation dawned in her eyes, as she understood the true depth of her desire, “I want you…in every way imaginable.”  She brushed her fingers through the fringe that fell over his brow, adding quietly, with a wisdom that pierced his heart, “But don’t deny there is at least some part of you that is mine.”

He chuckled warmly, musing wondrously before kissing her long and deep, “In flesh, in spirit, you are indeed the match to me, sweet Seraphina.  Perhaps the universe set you in my path to make amends for the cruelties I have suffered.”  Khan hovered above her, memorizing her smallest details a few moments more, and then blazed a trail of kisses down to her breasts.  “Perfection,” he murmured against her skin, and then took a stiffened nipple between his lips, tickling it with his tongue while she moaned her reply.  Sucking it softly at first, then with increasing pressure before he popped it from his mouth, and moved to lavish his attention on the other. 

At the same time, he finally drifted his thumb down to her clitoris, rubbing gently to begin with, then tracing from its tip downward, along her exposed labia, and back again, varying his strokes to keep her on the edge, and eliciting her deepest moans yet.  His cock pulsed with ferocious need, straining against the material that was the last barrier between them.  Though the deeply buried, primitive part of him cried out for him to plunge himself inside of her, he focused his will on Seraphina’s pleasure, and on preparing her for his eventual entry.  Teasing her a bit more, until he brought his fingers to her opening, finding her slick enough to explore; she pushed against him as he flexed one long finger, and then two, inside her, spreading her legs wider to allow him deeper access.  “Slowly now, my flower; open to me with patience,” he instructed her, “Trust me in this, as in all things now.”

“Ohhhhhhh…but let me touch you, too,” Seraphina implored him, moving one hand from his hair, skimming it quickly down his body, while stretching her fingers to take him in hand. “Let me feel you…all of you…please, John…please.”

Khan moved his pelvis just out of her reach, keeping her in place upon the mattress effortlessly, intensifying his strokes against and inside her.  “No, my precious one, you must wait.  Your sweet touch would surely set me ablaze—but first, I would watch you as you come…”  Her breath caught with that word, and she squirmed beneath his hand, hot, wet, and achingly close to resolution.  “I will feel you in the moment that you peak, proof that you are mine,” he declared, and brought his mouth close to hers, breathing her in.

Seraphina raised her head and latched onto his mouth, her lips and tongue greedy to please him in the only way he would allow.  Her hips moved in sync with his fingers, seeking the release he promised—yet still, she sought to persuade him.  “No…please,” she begged, her breath catching again with  insistent waves of pleasure, as he worked her towards her climax, “Don’t push me over the edge, John…I…aaaaahhhhhh…I don’t want to come until you’re inside me…”

Confident of his power over her—and truly wanting to experience her gratification before his own, he laid his mouth against her ear, “My beautiful one…my sweet flower…we have hours and hours ahead of us.  There is time enough for satisfaction for us both.  Let me please you in this way—and I promise this night that I will give you such delights as no man has ever given you.”  She sobbed softly, confused by the promptings of her heart versus the fire he had kindled in her flesh.  “You are my treasure, Seraphina.  A heavenly oasis in a world that has only ever sought to use me violently.  Trust me, my sweet, and know that I have come to trust you with my life.” 

What little resistance she had managed, vanished in a single beat of his heart, as his talented fingers redoubled their efforts, thrusting deeply inside her again and again, while she ground against the glorious pressure of his thumb stroking her clit.  In moments, Seraphina exploded like a maelstrom, crying out his name, clenching his fingers tightly within her; her hips rose, and her pelvis and legs went rigid, as her body strained to wring every ounce of ecstasy possible from this first penetration.

Though she fell back onto the mattress, her muscles continued contracting, and her body trembled in luscious after throes. Her pelvis twitched when he finally pulled his fingers away, signaling her body’s regret for his absence, testament to his skill.  Khan smiled wolfishly, relishing his indelible effect upon her and anticipating what was to come next, then forged a pathway of soothing kisses back to her passion-bruised mouth.

Resplendently dazed—and with a satisfied flush coloring her skin--Seraphina kissed him back with a tenderness that defied her earlier fervor.  The heat in his blood cried out for equal satisfaction, though he bided his time well enough—knowing he was minutes away from taking her in full.

“That…was…amazing,” she sighed, turning into him, casually nuzzling his neck, “And god, you…you smell amazing…and you feel like heaven…”  She suckled along his clavicle, murmuring against his skin, “You taste like strength, and mystery, and…and forbidden bliss.”  Seraphina slowly exhaled, “And I’d almost think I was dreaming you up—except I’ve never had such an…,” she bit her lip, and her eyelids fluttered shut as her senses relived the glory of it, “…such an intense…orgasm, in a dream before…”

Khan rumbled in his chest, judging her ready for more, while finishing her thought, “Nor in the waking world, I’ll wager.”  She was delightfully easy to read, a creature of little pretense, her heart an open book; the language of her body against his was the only confirmation he needed.  He splayed one hand across her hip onto the small of her back, pulling her against him and leaving not a bit of gap between them.  She ooooo’d, surprised by his sudden roughness, but then conformed to him exactly as he wished, clinging tight while peppering his neck and chest with lusty kisses.

He caught her hand in his, and pressed his lips against her palm.  “Now you will free me,” he ordered her, firmly guiding her hand down and setting it upon his bulging cock, “Free me--and then you may touch me as you desire, Seraphina.”

She complied eagerly, pulling away his underwear and grasping his hard, heavy shaft, feeling his full length and girth for the first time.  Khan grinned at her moan of mixed surprise and trepidation, knowing he surpassed all of her expectations—his generous endowment another gift of his superior genetics.  Her grasp was light and tentative, and she panted shallowly, on the verge of panic.  “John…you’re so…so…big,” she sputtered, “What if I can’t…what if I can’t…accommodate…you?”

“Oh, my sweet—you needn’t fear.”  His voice was patient, silk indulgence, having anticipated this last obstacle.  “You see now why I needed to prepare you--and I promise you are more than ready.”  As proof, he moved one hand between her thighs, his expert fingers exploring her core again, measuring her heat and slathering his fingers with her juices.  His eyes bored into hers, as he willed her to calm and trust him.  Seraphina’s mouth hung slack, as she watched him bring those fingers to his lips and lick her flavor from them.  “Yes, my sweet, you are ready for me.”

She held still for several breaths, choosing her course.  Accepting his word as truth, her lips quirked saucily—and Khan shuddered at the sensation of her thumb rubbing the tip of his cock insistently, capturing droplets of his pre-come on her skin.  Avidly, he watched her suck her thumb, signaling her full submission to whatever he might ask of her.

Khan rolled Seraphina onto her back, taking in her full beauty once more, before mounting her.  She kept her eyes locked on his, and they whispered endearments and loving encouragements back and forth, touching one another and never breaking contact altogether.  Still marveling at his size, and seeing him ready to bury himself inside her, Sera grasped her knees from behind, pulling her legs back as far as she could, opening to him, vulnerable to him, her clitoris visibly pulsing with renewed need.  Khan gripped her hips for purchase, and surprised her one last time, lowering his mouth and tenderly kissing her mound, then caressing her clit with the tip of his tongue; she cried out her bliss, writhing beneath him, raising herself to meet his full lips.  She was close again, so close to more rapture, but this time Khan would have her orgasm engulf him.

Seraphina whimpered as he moved away from her wet portal, as suddenly as he’d begun pleasuring her there.  “Hush, my sweet,” he cooed, scattering random kisses across her abdomen, and gently grazing the smooth skin of her breasts, on his way back to her mouth, “Have I not promised you all that you desire?  And have I not proven myself a man of my word?” 

She was nearly incoherent, only able to moan, and when he took her mouth again, he matched that moment by slipping the head of his cock into her melting pussy.  He groaned with the joy of it, the purest pleasure he had of her yet, holding himself still as she bucked beneath him, begging him in that way to fill her completely.  Unable to hold back a moment longer, he thrust his full length into her, the sensation so keen that he saw stars behind his closed lids.

It would be quick this time, Khan knew, from so long an abstinence.  His heart hammered in his chest, pumping blood that had become molten as he rutted into her again and again, his magnificent brain shutting down all thought but the imperative to take his pleasure at last.  He was aware enough to feel her lock her ankles together at the small of his back, and to feel her arms encircle him, holding on hard as he unrepentantly drove her body into the mattress.  Seraphina encased him like a glove, and she met his movements measure for measure, her growing moans a heavenly counterpoint to the groans he felt rising from the seat of his soul.

With mere moments left to him, Khan snaked one hand between them, seeking her perfect little nub, her most sensitive spot, rubbing it roughly and pushing her to climax.  She rose to meet his final thrusts, the powerful waves of her orgasm pulling him past his endurance, and he came furiously, all his consciousness focused on their connection, his cock convulsing as he spilled himself inside her.

For unnumbered moments, they seemed suspended in time, so intimately connected, throbbing together in the aftermath, and for that brief time unable to tell where he ended and she began.  Seraphina drew deep gulps of air, her exhales cooling his sweat soaked skin.  Khan found himself shaking, telling himself it was only the flood of hormones that hit is system, after a three hundred year absence.  In truth, he knew of only one other woman who had drawn such a reaction from him; the comparison was too apt for comfort, and he shut those thoughts away.

When he looked down upon her, Seraphina smiled up at him, biting her lip, a sudden bashfulness complimenting the glow she wore for him.  She rested one hand on the side of his neck, and the other she nested in his mussed hair, then raised her face closer to kiss his slightly parted lips, lingering on his bottom lip, spoiling him with gentleness after his rough use of her.  “Are you well, my sweet,” he asked, solicitous of her comfort.

Her smile grew wide, and rather soppy, “Never better in all my life, my beautiful, dark…”  She hovered a moment, in search of a perfect word, “My beautiful, dark, magnificent prince.”

“You flatter me, Sera,” he chuckled, using the diminutive of her name for the first time—for she truly was his now, in all ways.  His steadiness restored, he continued, “But I will take it, along with anything else you care to give to me.”  He took her mouth in a long, passionate kiss, her sweetness become the only candy that would ever satisfy him.  Delaying the inevitable no longer, Khan withdrew from her as gently as he could, though she still hissed softly at the loss of connection.  And, oh, she would be sore tomorrow—but he could not regret a moment of how he’d taken her.  Of how you loved her, the voice of his younger self corrected him; he shut that thought away as swiftly as it came.

Sera turned into him, as he laid beside her, and rested her head on his shoulder.  Though her voice was drowsy, Khan thought perhaps they’d couple a time or two more before sleep overtook her—and if so, his patience would exact magnificent pleasure upon her warm and willing form.

She traced her fingers across his chest randomly, and brushed her lips against his skin as suited her in the moment.  Khan rested his nose against her hair, relaxed in a way he had not been since well before his ascendancy as leader of the Augments.  Already the temptation to turn his back forever on that life--in favor of spending days, months, perhaps years, in the splendor of her loving—was insinuating itself inside his mind.  He vowed to tread with greater caution in regards to her heart as they moved forward on their journey.

“It’s DiPietro, by the way,” she confided against his skin, “In case you were wondering.”  A pleasant sigh punctuated her statement.

“What is?” 

Sera kissed along his jaw, her answer rich with amusement, “My surname.”

“Ahhhhhh,” he rumbled, recalling her hesitance in what—now--felt like a full week ago.  “DiPietro,” he repeated, enjoying the feel of it upon his tongue.

“Yes,” she laughed. “I didn’t want to trust you, you know.  I thought it would be safer not to say,” she admitted.

“And now?”  He had an inkling as to her reply.

“I would trust you with more than my life,” she confessed, unaware of the drift of his own thoughts, “I would trust you with my heart.”

The only answer he felt safe to give, was to pull her soft against him—hoping it would suffice for now.  Hoping that when the end came, he would not have to break such a beautiful, yet unasked for gift, and one so tenderly offered.

If you enjoyed this, chapters 1-12 of this WIP can be found on AO3.

tagging: @bakerstreethound @withalittlehoney @rmoonstoner

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#my writing #A Khan By Any Other Name #Khan #Khan Noonien Singh #John Harrison #Khan x OC #Khan x OFC #Khan x Seraphina #OFC #Seraphina DiPietro #khan fan fiction #khan fanfiction #star trek fan fiction #star trek fanfiction #Khanbatch #my dark magnificent prince

[writercole]

Up For A Challenge

Summary: A typical morning on the beach ends with the promise of more. Bingo Squares: Idiots in Love @thebo3bingo // idiots in love - resa’s 3k // mutual pining spnfluffbingo // sparks fly @anyfandomfluffbingo Words: 1352 Warnings: Idiots in love Credits: @ryebecca for the gorgeous moodboard header // @princessmisery666 for the beta A/N: Originally, Jess asked for Honeymoon Harrison but I have a honeymoon idea with Beau so she gets idiots in love. And boy are they idiots. They’re lucky they have Chloe. A/N 2: The Murlocs is a real band (are a real band?). They do a lot of surf rock if that’s what you’re into!

The Hawaiian sun beat down upon the sand, heating up the early morning as it rose. Harrison rode wave after wave while his sister, Chloe, lounged on the shore with a cup of coffee and a book. The beach was sparsely populated, a few other surfers, a few other loungers, a few people jogging. Harrison broke the surface after wiping out, shaking the water out of his hair and catching a glimpse of the girl that worked across the street from the record shop, Rachel, taking a few pictures of the sunrise.

He trudged through the waves to the shore, his eyes focused on the photographer. He stood his board in the sand next to Chloe and faced the sea. His gaze kept wandering to Rachel as she made her way towards them. He had been eyeing her for weeks, seeing her in the bookshop window across the street, grinning shyly when Cooper called him out.

Chloe was not immune to the gaze of her brother. She knew he had a thing for Rachel and she knew that it was reciprocated. She’d tried to encourage him to ask her out daily but he always insisted that he had no idea what she was talking about. There was one sure-fire way to get him to agree, though. “Are you up for a challenge?” Chloe asked with a smirk.

“Always,” Harrison replied enthusiastically as he faced her.

“Go ask Rachel out.”

“Uh, no,” he refused, turning his gaze back to the sunrise. “I don’t want to disturb her.”

“When have you ever disturbed her? You go into the shop like four times a week just to see her.”

“I do not. I go to look for a book,” he denied, crossing his arms over his chest, refusing to look over at his sister.

“You have never bought a book in your life.”

“I read! Comics. Sometimes.”

“First of all, I never said you didn’t read. Secondly, you made my point. You go into the shop to see her all the time. Why not go talk to her now?” Chloe pressed her brother for more information, noticing the way his gaze darted over to Rachel before quickly returning to the sunrise.

“I…she’s busy.”

“Harrison, you’re an absolute moron,” Chloe sighed.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’re absolutely head over heels in love with her but you won’t ask her out.”

“She doesn’t like me like that.” His shoulders slumped and his head drooped and Chloe saw just how much he believed that.

“God, you really are stupid. Do you think it’s a coincidence that she leaves at the same time as you every day? That she lets you walk her to her street? That she spends her lunch break in the shop with you? That she has never once told you she’s too busy to talk when you go into the shop, even when she’s with a customer? She’s in love with you, too!”

“She is not,” he insisted as he turned back towards her.

“Oh my god,” she muttered with a roll of her eyes. “Hey, Rachel,” Chloe yelled, fully irritated with the amount of stupidity Harrison was displaying.

Harrison tried to shush his sister but Rachel was already heading over.

“Hey guys,” she chirped, “what’s up?”

“Chloe, don’t,” Harrison hissed.

“We have two tickets to see The Murlocs tonight and I can’t go. Would you want to go with Harrison?”

“I’d love to! They’re one of my favorite bands,” Rachel smiled.

“Chloe!” Harrison exclaimed quietly as he stepped up behind her, his leg pulled back by the tether on his surfboard.

“The show starts at eight,” Chloe continued, lifting her hand to cover her brother’s protests. “How about you meet him at the record store at six and he can take you on a dinner date before your concert date?”

Rachel suppressed a giggle when she saw how red Harrison’s face had gotten. His beautiful blue eyes were wide with surprise and when they met hers, Rachel ducked her head and bit her lip before turning her attention back to Chloe. “I would love to.”

“Perfect.” Chloe jotted down Harrison’s number on a piece of paper and thrust it into Rachel’s hand. “I’ll make sure he looks like an adult.”

“It’s fine,” Rachel insisted. “I like the down to earth look anyway.” This time, Rachel held Harrison’s gaze with a shy smile for a moment before giving them a slight wave and walking away, looking back to see Harrison staring after her with a huge grin.

She turned the corner and Chloe elbowed her brother, facing him with a knowing smirk. “I told you so.”

“Uh huh,” he replied automatically. His brain was already detailing ways to make this the first of many memorable evenings for them.

At five minutes to six, Rachel turned the corner to the block the record shop was on and froze. “I can’t do this,” she muttered, “this is just a joke. A prank. He didn’t even say - No.” She took a deep breath and stepped forward. “It’s not a joke. It’s real. It will be amazing. I get to see The Murlocs and have dinner with the hottie I’ve been eyeing for weeks.”

As soon as she made it to the shop, the door swung open and Harrison stepped out wearing khaki shorts and a white henley, an outfit that not only looked fantastic on him but went well with her jeans and The Murlocs tee. A lopsided grin adorned his face as he walked the few steps towards her.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he admitted, “Chloe is kind of pushy at times.”

“If you’re not okay with this, I -”

“No, that’s not it at all!” he interrupted, his ocean blue eyes widening. “I’ve, uh, god how do I say this without sounding creepy?” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and cleared his throat before continuing. “I’ve been kinda watching you from the record shop.”

“That’s not supposed to sound creepy?”

“I don’t mean it creepily. At first it was because you were pretty, which you definitely still are but you’re also really interesting. Every day you have a different book and it’s never the same genre. You’ve always got a smile on your face when you’re dealing with customers and you interact with the kids and -”

“Harrison, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain why you were watching,” she giggled. “We work across the street from each other. It’s not like I didn’t notice you, too.” 

“You did?”

“Yeah. I mean, you’re pretty hard to miss.”

“So Chloe’s right, then.”

“Right about what?”

“That you like me, too.”

“Yes, she’s right.”

“I guess I owe her a thank you.”

“Can we go out first?”

“How about we skip to the end?”

“Oh?”

Harrison closed the distance between them and lifted her chin with his finger, ducking down to capture her lips softly, his own mouth moving tentatively against hers. Her eyes fluttered shut and her hands rested gently on his chest as she leaned in to the kiss. The moment came to a natural end and neither of them moved, both committing the moment to memory before their eyes opened slowly. 

“Wow,” he whispered, “that was better than I imagined.”

“I’m glad I could live up to expectations.”

Harrison chuckled and stepped back, letting his hand fall from her chin.

“So this is the end of the date?” she repeated with a smirk.

“I didn’t mean -”

“Good, because there’s no way I’m missing that show.”

“Is that all I’m good for? Tickets to a show?” he gasped, his hand slapping his chest in mock offense.

“What am I? Shallow?” she scoffed. “I get dinner, too.” 

He laughed, a deep sound rising from his chest making him throw his head back. “That’s right, you were promised dinner.”

“I was promised dinner and a show with you,” she clarified, “but if you’re not up to the challenge.”

“Oh no, I’m up for the challenge. Just making sure you were okay with the terms.”

“I insist upon them.”

“Good. I know the perfect place.”

#writercole #thebo3bingo #affluffbingo #resa's 3k fiesta #spn fluff #harrison knott #press play #chloe knott #harrison knott x oc

[jemmalynette]

OC HALLOWEEN CHALLENGE 2023

Day Fourteen: Vacation Nightmares (Location: Hotel/Island/AirBnB, etc.)

An island that magically speeds up your aging, a hotel with corridors that lead to nowhere, a psychotic airbnb host; Today is about horror in locations that are supposed to be a break from the horror of everyday life, but instead introduces you to whole new horrors.

Logan and Andrea head on a romantic vacation to a beautiful tropical island, only for it to end in bloodshed.

Tags: @littletonpace @alchemypanda

#im so unbelievably proud of this #its exactly what i envisioned #ohc2023 #oc halloween challenge 2023 #oc halloween challenge #my ocs #my edits #my edits: ocs #au #the walking dead oc #my ocs: logan christopher #craig olejnik #my ocs: logan x andrea #andrea harrison #my gifs #my gifs: ocs

[unreliablesnake]

Of reverse love and stuff: Confession (Eobard Thawne x OC x Harrison Wells)

Summary: You know the truth about Eobard, now it's time to find out who Harrison truly is.

Note: If you want to see other parts, check the #orlas tag on my blog.

Harrison was an excellent tour guide, especially when it came to rich people he needed to fund his projects. S.T.A.R. Labs was busy working on its particle accelerator, but he could talk about the future of that place so excitedly as if it would begin to operate the next day. Despite what they were planning to do there being quite a challenge to understand, he tried to keep things simple and interesting to all of his guests.

Listening to him reminded Nina of Eobard and how he usually took his time to explain everything to her. He didn’t think she was an idiot, but she wasn’t a physicist either so he had to slow down and pay attention to whether or not she could follow him. She missed him and she wished he was there with her now. Sure, this was old news for him, but maybe he would have had fun with her around.

Apparently she wasn't the only one thinking he would like it because her mother let out a dramatic sigh before looking at her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Harrison, but I’m sure her boyfriend would be a little more entertaining than you. Would you mind if I went out to get some fresh air?” she asked.

“John will go with you,” he began, signaling his employee to get going, but then he noticed people beginning to become a lot more livelier at the thought of leaving. “I believe we’re all tired a little, let’s take a break. Please, follow John, I have to check something before joining you all.” Nina turned around to follow the others, but Harrison was quick to reach out and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Wait, I want to show you something.”

She didn’t understand what this was all about, what he wanted to show her that the others couldn’t see, and this caught her interest. “What is it?”

“You’ll see. Come with me,” he said with a smile before turning to begin to walk again.

Nina reached an empty hallway not far from where he had interrupted the tour, and once he looked around to see if anyone else was around, he put his hand on the wall and it somehow opened a door she didn’t even see before. He signaled her to follow him inside which she did without question. This secret room was almost completely empty and it made her wonder why he wanted her to see it.

Despite the number of question marks rapidly rising in her head, she didn’t ask anything, instead she waited for him to finally begin talking. But he remained silent and only reached into his pocket to grab an object with a smug smirk on his face. It was only when she looked to see what it was that she realized it was a way too familiar piece of jewelry.

Eobard’s ring that contained his suit.

She didn’t even know what to say. Things only became more confusing after he pressed the ring against the wall and it revealed a mannequin that was within a few moments dressed in the yellow and black suit she knew so well.

“How did you get these?” Nina asked hesitantly, doing her best to leave Eobard’s name out of the conversation.

“They’re not from your boyfriend, don’t worry,” he replied as he walked closer to her. “Well, they are, but not from this version of him.” She warned herself to play dumb, to make it look like she had no idea what he was referring to. “These are mine,” he suddenly said when he let go of the ring he’d been toying with and reached out to take her hand.

The young woman didn’t even bother to pull her hand away because her brain was in overdrive. What did he mean when he said these were his? How? He even mentioned that they were from another version of Eobard, so what was the truth? It was getting a little too complicated for her liking. He was confusing her, and she had this feeling that he was doing this on purpose.

“I’m your Eobard, only from a later point in time,” he clarified himself. “I know you probably have a lot of questions right now and I’ll gladly answer them, but right now I need you to listen to me very carefully. I’ve been waiting for almost ten years to tell you this, until you found out the truth about me–about what time period I’m from, about my speed, about my past. I know I already told you everything a month ago, so now I need you to be open minded again, okay?”

“Harrison, why are you doing this?” Nina asked, assuming it was just some cruel joke. But when was the last time she had seen him pranking anyone? He wasn’t the type to do such things. And when he let out a frustrated sigh, she had a sudden feeling that maybe it wasn’t a joke after all. “Let’s say I believe you’re Eobard. Why do you look like this?”

“I came back to 2000 to take care of something and it ended with me losing my speed and getting stranded here. I needed to speed things up, so to speak, which is why I took Harrison Wells’ place.”

That year made her think. She was eleven at the time, but she remembered that was the year Harrison moved to Central City following the accident that took his wife away from him. “Wait, the accident Tess died in–”

“Don’t worry about it,” he was quick to tell her. “All that matters is that this is our chance to be together in a proper relationship.”

“You come back quite regularly and you keep things linear, so I’d say my relationship with… younger you is pretty normal,” Nina explained as she pulled her hand away and took a step back.

She could see the disappointment in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he nodded and nervously licked his lower lip as he watched her. “It could be better,” he told her.

“So what, you want me to break up with him?”

“No. Definitely not.” Of course, the timeline would be affected if she broke up with him before it would happen naturally. She wondered what Harrison was expecting from her, but she didn’t have to wait long to find out. “You need to keep dating him, but you have to make him understand that you have to marry me.”

As if that would be so easy. “He wouldn’t be fond of the idea of me marrying someone else while I’m seeing him,” Nina noted.

“Yeah, well, if it comes down to it–and knowing myself it will–just say it was his future self telling you to do it. And if he doesn’t believe that, tell him I said I advise him to trust you because you’re not Rose.”

How come she had never heard this name before? Sure, she and Eobard had only been together for eight months, but if she was important, he would have mentioned her, right? “Who’s Rose?”

Harrison looked hesitant, probably considering whether or not he should explain this to her. “A woman I liked,” he said eventually. “But she broke my heart, so… It’s a long story.”

Nina drew in a deep breath then let it out slowly as she thought about the situation. Harrison Wells’ place was taken by her boyfriend’s older version over nine years ago, and he had–as she now assumed–deliberately moved into the house next to her family’s to be close to her. What she saw in his eyes as he talked was the kind of genuine love she hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Does this mean I’d have to keep my relationship with him a secret? That I should make it look like we broke up?” she asked to clarify.

“This is the only way.”

“And if I don’t want that?” Harrison tilted his head to the side as he folded his arms over his chest. She loved Eobard, but even if he was truly his older self, this was too much to ask for. “Listen, I’ve known you ever since you moved here all those years ago, it’s–”

“Weird, I know. Look, don’t think it’s easy for me. I watched the woman I love the most grow up, knowing it will be long years before I can even tell you the truth and we can be together. And even then, what would people say? You’re so much younger than the Harrison Wells they know, it would surely raise some questions.”

“Then why do you want me to be with you?”

He let out a heartfelt laugh before moving closer to cup her face with his hands. “Because I’m selfish and I need you in my life. I need my partner, I need things to be back to how they used to be before I got stranded in this dreadful period of time,” he admitted.

“But I’ve only been seeing your younger self for eight months, during which I met him a total of eight times. I’m not the same woman you left behind,” she told him softly, trying to make him understand that even if she agreed to this, things wouldn’t be the same.

Harrison gulped loudly as he thought about this. Maybe he had only just realized what Nina pointed out might be correct, that unlike her the woman he knew had been his girlfriend for who knows how long. Based on the way he talked about her–about the other version of her–she assumed it was a serious relationship, that the two of them were really close. But her and Eobard? It wasn’t that serious yet.

Nina reached up to wrap her fingers around his hands, ready to pry them off of herself, but he didn’t let her do that. His grip became firmer, his blue eyes locked with hers as he watched her. “It won’t be long before you admit that you love him. You already think this could be something serious, don’t you?” he asked with a smile. When she remained silent, he went on. “You introduced him to your parents, it has to mean something.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s the case, but you two are not the same. You know a lot more about me than I know about you. It isn’t fair,” the woman pointed out.

To her surprise, Harrison let out a short laugh. “You’ll get to know the both of us. I won’t tell you anything my younger self wouldn’t share with you, I can promise you that.”

“How would you know what he tells me?”

Finally letting go of her, he raised a finger with a smile, then walked over to the console by the wall, putting his hand on top of the device to activate it.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Wells,” said the holographic head that showed up.

“Gideon, show me Eobard Thawne’s logs about her,” he instructed the AI.

Nina walked over to him with her arms folded over her chest. There was a screen taking the head’s place, showing her a series of dates, each of them followed by another, much later date. “What’s this?” she asked as she turned to him.

Harrison’s lips curled into a delicate smile as if he was recalling a fond memory before answering her. “I kept track of our meetings. In the first column you can see your time, in the second one you can find mine,” he explained as he looked over at her. “Like I promised, I kept things linear as long as I could. Each meeting is a log, so this is basically a journal with the details of our dates. This way I always knew what I’d already told you.”

This made her think. He was the smartest man she knew, he surely wouldn’t forget these things. “Did you ever return to read these?”

“Every time I had a bad day,” he replied.

Before she knew what she was doing, she stood on her toes and pulled his head down to kiss him. Harrison seemed surprised by her action, but he eventually eased into it and wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer. It was clear he didn’t want to let go, but she didn’t even want to be away from him. This man, this version of her boyfriend clearly loved her more than anyone before.

Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe she shouldn’t have done that. Maybe it counted as cheating. But every cell in her body told her to do it, to test how weird this would be. To her surprise, she liked it a little too much. The way he kissed her reminded her of Eobard, every movement of his was screaming they were the same person, and so it was hard not to catch feelings.

Harrison was the one who broke the kiss, looking at her with a bright smile she had rarely seen on his face. “Attagirl,” he said quietly before placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

#harrison wells x oc #harrison wells #eobard thawne x ofc #eobard thawne x oc #eobard thawne #harrison wells x ofc #eowells #eowells x oc #eowells x ofc #the flash #reverse flash x oc #reverse flash #orlas