Clara Oswald is young and ready to live her life. On her travels around the world, she happens to bump into aspiring business owner John Smith. They spend the night together and six years later, they happen to cross paths again.
Six years ago, Heathrow Airport.
Twenty year old Clara Oswald was an adventurer. She liked to explore and explore, never really stopping. She was always at home for a week then took off, backpacking through the country. Her gran funded the flights and anything else she needed, she did it because she wanted Clara to see the world. But Clara was also escaping from something, from herself. She needed a new start. She thought China might be it, she could teach some English since she had finished her bachelor in it already and live there and if not, she could use the trip to China as a goodbye to her chaotic life. She had to grow up and get a job, responsibilities like an adult. Unfortunately, as she was waiting, her plane was delayed, leaving her disgruntled. She had money on her, she could rent a room for the six hours that the plane was delayed. Clara huffed and bought a coffee then sat alone on a table, her back-pack on top of it. She brushed a long strand of her hair behind her ear and sipped at her coffee as she looked at everyone. Clara made eye contact with a man, around fifty or so, she couldn't quite tell because she blushed and looked away, putting her cup aside and fishing for a book in her back-pack. Her heart beat accelerated slightly, it always seemed to do that when she made eye contact with attractive people. She might appear cool and relaxed on the exterior but on the inside it was another story. Clara started to read and picked up her coffee, ignoring her surroundings.
John Smith had booked a flight to NYC, America. He was looking into starting a business, a magazine business, he just didn't know the content of his business just yet. He adjusted the glasses on his face and scowled, looking around the airport. He was told all the planes were delayed, leaving all the passengers stranded in the airport. Great, now he'd have to occupy himself. He held a small briefcase in his hand, wearing a long thick, grey trench coat. His grey hair was swept back with a lot of hair gel. He chewed on his bottom lip, checked his phone and when he looked up, he made eye contact with a woman merely footsteps away from him. John's blue eyes locked onto hers, he didn't move a muscle, just stared at her until she had looked away. What was that about? He awkwardly shuffled on his feet and walked past her, getting a coffee for himself.
Clara would say that she wasn't paying attention to the mysterious man at all, but she'd be lying if she said that. Her attention was on the book but she glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes. When he started walking in her direction, she briefly freaked out a bit, trying to concentrate extra hard but she relaxed when he walked past her, allowing her to have a good look at his back. He was tall and his coat made him seem taller, his grey hair was oddly charming, as were his glasses. But he seemed too strict, she loved serious people but he seemed to be far too stuck up for her. Clara watched him make his order and then focused back on her book. She didn't notice that all the tables were taken and that the only chair available was in front of her, on her table.
John picked up his coffee, sipped it and looked around for a seat. His eyes landed on the young woman and his heart skipped a beat, he noticed the only chair available was on her table. He couldn't help the faint smirk on his lips as he walked over to her, his hand on the chair;
"Do you mind if I sit here?" He questioned her, blinking rapidly. She was beautiful, far too beautiful. She had inflated, big brown eyes, an incredibly round face, brown short hair and a dimple on her left cheek. John couldn't help but notice she wasn't wearing any make up, not that she even needed it.
He caught her off guard and her coffee almost fell from her hand, she grabbed it with both, losing the page she was reading in the process of it all. Being a new book, it wasn't used to being bent like that, so it closed. She put her coffee on the table and smiled at whoever had asked until she saw it was him. Her smile froze in place as she stared at his face. His oddly attractive face.
"Well, uh, I don't mind, not at all, be my guest. Or… rather not my guest, this isn't exactly my table despite the fact that I'm here. I mean-" she realised that she had been babbling and smiled shyly at him, her dimples more pronounced.
"Just ignore me, yeah?"
John put his coffee down and smiled gently at her, his hands reaching out to grab her coffee. When she caught it, he quickly moved his hands away, "Oh, I believe it's your table, you were sat here first," he winked at her, his Scottish accent more pronounced.
He slowly sat down, placing his briefcase down onto the floor. He watched her, taking notice of her smile. She had a gorgeous smile. "Well, ignoring you would be rude." He broke eye contact with her to look up at the plane times, pointing his finger, "Where are you off too?"
'Oh goodness me', was what went through Clara's head like a broken record. Apparently being handsome wasn't enough. She had a soft spot for Scottish men and their beautiful accents. In fact, her last friend with benefits was Scottish. She had met him on one of her trips to Glasgow. She rarely saw him now since he was working for the army again. Captain Jack Harkness, they called him. She focused her attention on the man in front of her. She blushed at his comment and decided to let it slide and answered his question instead.
"China. I've never been to China so I decided to do some exploring and see what happens." She put her book in her back-pack and put the back-pack on the floor, leaving more empty space between them.
"What about you?" She asked as she played with the neck of her open plaid shirt, a weak smile on her face.
Underneath she wore a plain white shirt accompanied with jeans and converse, typical 'young girl clothes' Clara felt a bit self-conscious since he was dressed so proper. She had an idea that he was somebody important or just some bloke with a good fashion sense. She didn't know, yet.
John sipped his coffee, leaning his elbows on the table, "So you're a traveller," he said it as more of an observation than a question. He smiled fondly at her, a lopsided smile that matched his face and appearance perfectly.
John leant on the table, arms folded. His blue eyes drifted down to where she was fiddling with her shirt, he cleared his throat and made eye contact with her. He was always one for a deep respect for women, or so his last wife would tell him. He had been married, but they divorced three years ago and hadn't spoken since. John had worked as an Artist for some time and shared a small flat with River, although they never had any children, she was away far too much. After their marriage broke down, John left London and wanted to make something better of himself, he was tired of just sitting around waiting for something to happen to him. He had a sister who lived in NYC, Donna.
John sipped his coffee, his eyes studying her face, "I'm heading to New York, to see my sister and hopefully start a business."
Clara bit her lip as she smiled at his assessment and nodded. He was good, but then again, anyone with half a brain could've deduced that. Even the way he sipped his coffee was sexy. She started to imagine things involving him but tried to shake them away, "Oh, a new business! You've got quite the competition in New York, or so I hear. Lots of business's there. You know, I've travelled a lot and I've never been to New York…"
She nibbled on her nails, something she did when she was in deep thought, "What kind of business if you don't mind me asking?" She asked him, her big brown eyes waiting eagerly for his answer.
John placed down his cup of coffee, swallowing the hot liquid as it moved down his throat. He raised his eyebrows, his eyes looking her once over. Oh, how he'd love to drink her. He cleared his throat and leant backwards, shocked by his own thought. She was young enough to be his daughter. John coughed, his hand over his mouth. He noticed how she would fiddle with things whenever she spoke to him and how small her hands were. John's thoughts were drifting off elsewhere until he snapped back into reality, realising what she had asked him.
"Oh, I- Uh, I'm not entirely sure yet, to tell you the truth. My sister, Donna, she's going to help me out when I arrive but looks like that won't be happening for any of us for six hours," he laughed and leaned closer to her, his eyes searching hers. She really did have big, beautiful eyes.
She heaved a sigh. For a bit there she forgot about the fact they were stranded in the airport for six hours, "Yeah, it's a bummer." She sipped more from her coffee while looking at him over the brim of her cup.
Clara discreetly glanced at his left hand, noticing that he didn't have a ring on his finger. That was good. She could try to flirt a bit without feeling guilty. The bit of guilt she felt stemmed from the fact that he could be her dad. She wouldn't mind calling him 'daddy' though. She lowered the cup, coughing a bit. "Sorry. It went down the wrong pipe. I blame you for that, you know…"
John scratched his beard, a raise of his thick eyebrows, "You blame me for your incompetence to drink coffee correctly?" He asked her, a giant cocky smirk on his lips. His accent had grown thicker and his eyes darker.
His eyes flickered to her left hand, checking she wasn't married. He guessed she was intertwine twenty and twenty three years old, why would she be married? He drank the rest of his coffee, his heart pounding, "I'm John, by the way. John Smith…" He introduced himself, holding out his rather large hand.
"Oi, be nice, you." She giggled but didn't tell him why it was his fault. He didn't need to know that yet. His beard was doing things to her, she wanted to touch it. Hell, she would even ask him with a little more courage. She observed his large hand, his veins standing out, his long fingers directed towards her.
She took it and grasped his hand, giving it a firm shake. "Such a generic name for a rather remarkable and unforgettable face," she smiled at him, all her teeth showing.
"I'm Clara Oswald."
John gripped her hand, shaking it until his fingers folded over Clara's knuckles and bought her hand to his lips. He kissed her skin, beard scratching her hand as he looked up at her, his thick eyebrows frowned, "Such an ordinary name for such a beautiful woman…" he muttered under his breath, his blue eyes locked onto hers, unable to tear his eyes away from her. Clara's smile alone was making him weak at the knees.
Her breath hitched slightly and she had to gulp. The sensation of his beard scratching her hand and the kiss he had bestowed upon it was enough to make her bite her lip and cross her legs. How could such a thing arouse her so much? And he had called her beautiful. She knew that she was pretty good looking, but hearing it from this man made her feel entirely different.
"Why, thank you. You are rather handsome yourself." She dared to try her luck and asked softly as she extracted her hand from his reluctantly. "I won't be staying here waiting for six hours. There's a hotel near. I'm going to book in. Want to come check it out or would you like to stay here all bored and alone?" she raised an eyebrow at him and nodded in the general direction of the exit.
John placed his hand down on the table after letting go of Clara, he tapped the side of his head, a smirk on his face, "Great minds think alike, Clara Oswald…" He muttered, his Scottish accent rolling the 'R' in her name.
He loved the way her name sounded but he knew he would love his name falling from Clara's lips a lot more. He coughed and stood up, grabbing his briefcase and dumping his coffee into the bin. He opened the door for her, pointing to the hotel across the street. They reached the doors together and walked straight through, greeting the man behind the counter.
"Afternoon, could we get a room for two please? A balcony would be nice, send some champagne up for us?" He asked him and the man nodded, typed both of their details into the computer and gave John the keys to their room.
She loved the way her name sounded on his lips and the way the 'R' rolled was just magnificent. She did the same with her coffee even though she had drank about half of it and followed him into the hotel. She realised that her invitation had seemed as if she wanted to share a room with him and hell yes, she did, but she had no idea he would take it upon himself to see to it. She stood back a little, listening to what he was saying and raised an eyebrow as she looked up at him. She began walking in the direction of the lift, knowing John would be following her. They were the only people in the lift.
"Champagne, huh, Mr Smith?"
John smirked and stood behind her, his voice low in her ear as he pressed the button for the floor they wanted to arrive at, "Is that a problem, Miss Oswald?" He asked her, hand on her arm.
She trembled slightly at his voice and dammit, she hated herself for it. She was not inexperienced, by any means, but John Smith and his accent made her nervous and aroused at the same time. She gulped and looked at him as she turned her head to the side and willed her voice not to tremble, "Not at all. It just makes things better."
John's hand stroked her arm, he hadn't realised he was doing it. His face was inches from hers, blue eyes switching from her eyes and then back to her lips, "Does it?" he asked her, not really listening. He was far too busy taking in the scent of her hair.
"Mhm." She nodded numbly. She was reading this right, she knew. He wanted her and she wanted him too. She turned fully on his grasp and put her hands on the collar of his coat, looking up at him with her big doe eyes as she stood on the tips of her toes.
"Would it be okay if I were to kiss you?"
John's hands automatically wound around Clara's waist, towering over her in height, "Shouldn't I be asking that?" he asked her before he dipped his head, his hand on her cheek as he pressed his lips to hers.
She smiled into the kiss and pulled him as close as she could. Her hands moved from his coat to the back of his neck and kissed him back, giving as good as she got. He was a pretty good kisser and he already had her like pudding in his hands. Pulling back a little, with his lip between her teeth and a grin present, she winked at him and released his lip, stroking it softly with her thumb.
"I thought you'd never ask so I took the high ground. Do you have a problem with that?" She whispered beside his ear as she cupped his cheek with her left hand and started kissing his neck.
The doors to the elevator opened and John pushed Clara out into the corridor. He groaned as Clara kissed his neck and pulled the key card out of his pocket. He swiped the door and pushed her backwards, kicking the door shut with his foot. "I have no problem at all, Clara."
Clara grinned at him once they were in the room, her heart was beating so hard and fast she was certain he could hear it. She spotted the bed and took hold of his hand, she made him sit on the edge of the bed and then straddled him, her hands playing with his beard.
"I absolutely adore your beard, John." Clara commented as she bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed. Should she take control as she always did or let him have the control? She wanted him to take control, she needed it. He sure seemed like somebody who knew what he was doing with a twenty year old, instead of fussing around like a teenager with octopus hands.
John stared up at her, he sat up quickly, noticing Clara had not taken control. He kissed up the length of her neck and flipped them over, discarding his coat and taking off his glasses as he leaned down to press his lips to hers, hands roaming all over her. Clara let out a surprised gasp as he flipped them over but it soon turned into a moan as he started kissing and touching her. She responded eagerly to his kiss, arching her back purely on instinct as her small hands roamed over his back until they reached his belt. She hooked one of her legs over his waist, pressing him down on her. John growled against Clara's lips, his hand tugging on the jeans she was wearing. He bit down on Clara's bottom lip to open her mouth, his tongue diving into her mouth as his tongue explored her. He removed his hands from Clara and pulled his own shirt off, revelling a slightly toned pale stomach and fairly muscular arms, he was in good shape for fifty. When he parted away from her, she groaned in dismay, only to have that groan turn into a moan. She bit her lip, he was in good shape.
She trailed her hands over his toned chest and arms, her eyes dark with desire, "I never would have guessed,"
John smirked to himself, winked at Clara and sat up. He lifted her leg into the air playfully and pulled off her shoes and socks. He laughed, his eyes darkening with lust. John held her leg up as he kissed her bare skin, making his way back down to her until he reached just below her waistline. He grinned and kissed her inner thigh, leaving a few love bites on her skin before he made his way up to her shirt and pulled it off. His blue eyes took in the appearance of her body and he let out a low growl, his hands unclipping her bra as he threw it across the hotel room. John leaned back down and kissed inbetween her breasts, slow and open mouthed kisses he knew would tease her.
Clara was in heaven. This man, this John Smith was a bloody pro. She moaned loudly, arching her back each time he kissed her thighs. She watched her bra fly to the corner of the room as if in slow motion and then focused on him again when he started to kiss inbetween her breasts, her breath quickened and she pressed her legs together to get some friction as her hands tangled in his hair, not caring that she would mess it up.
"Oh, John…" She moaned breathlessly, gently pushing his head to where she needed it most.
John groaned quietly as he heard Clara moan his name for the first time. He grinned to himself and disappeared inbetween her legs, his hands spreading her thighs. His tongue dragged along her underwear, hands gripping her thighs tight so he could control her movements.
"Holy motherfucking shit!" Clara hissed, gripping the cover as she rested her weight on her forearms as she rose up to look down at him. Her face was flushed and so was her neck. "Are you seriously going to-? Oh my god…" She couldn't believe it. She had always wanted Jack to go down on her but he always said that wasn't his thing.
John smirked up at Clara, his face still inbetween her legs, "Why wouldn't I?" he asked her, a smirk on his face before he tugged her underwear down with his teeth, eyes locked onto hers.
She bit her lip as he gazed at her, the look alone made her wetter, if that was possible. She was certain her underwear was already soaked. "I don't know. My last boyfriend wouldn't go down on me. I started to think that that was something that only happened in pornos." She realised what she had admitted to and chuckled nervously.
"I only watch for research purposes. Knowledge is power."
John snorted, "Fucking bullshit." He growled in his Scottish accent and disappeared between her legs after he had thrown her underwear on the floor.
He groaned quietly, realising how wet she already was for him. He smirked and pressed his tongue against Clara, glancing up at her. "You taste so good,"
At the first lick she moaned loudly, her mouth agape and she looked at him as if she wanted to devour him. John's beard grazing her inner thighs felt fantastic, like his tongue on her. "I'm glad you like my taste and that felt awesome…"
She breathed heavily, "Do it again, please."
John laughed against her, his hands spreading her legs further apart. "Yes mam," he winked at her and kissed her inner thigh before he flicked his tongue over her clit. He growled and pulled her up to his face, his tongue darting inside of her, his eyes closed.
His growls made her clench involuntarily and when he flicked his tongue over her clit, she knew she was done. He was going at her with such gusto that it was hard to breathe and focus on the sensations at the same time. She gripped the comforters because she didn't think gripping his hair as if her life depended on it would be any good.
"Oh god, John." She repeated that over and over again, her toes curling and her arms gave out, leaving her panting on the bed, the only thing she saw was his beautiful grey head between her legs and his eyes closed.
John growled against Clara, his tongue moving inside of her. He groaned quietly, his hand roaming over her body, stroking her sides to calm her down. He knew it was the first time somebody had done this to her and he didn't expect her to control herself.
Her hips buckled against his mouth as she gripped the bed sheets, perspiration already visible on her forehead. "J-John, s-to-top!" She stuttered, the sensations were just too much, she thought she would die of a heart attack. She knew she was close to cumming but it felt like she was running out of breath, the tightening in her stomach was too much.
He knew she was coming close. He smirked and brought her closer to his face, holding her to him, making her back arch as he ate her out, his tongue moving inside of her quickly, his hand slipping I between her thighs to rub her clit. She arched once more and came. It felt like something inside of her had just opened up thanks to John's skilful tongue. Gosh, how could anyone ever top that!? She breathed heavily, passing her hands over her face. She felt fucking fantastic and exhausted. She had orgasmed before in her life, but nothing quite like this.
"You..." She said out of breath. "Deserve a trophy."
John removed his tongue from Clara, a grin on his face as he climbed up her body, pinning her wrists down against the bed, "I've got my trophy right here.." He growled, leaning down to kiss her.
She tasted herself when she kissed him and decided that it was not an unpleasant taste. She tried to move her hands but he had them pinned so she just kept kissing her. He was just so intense and sweet at the same time, it drove her mad. She arched into him, her hard nipples pressing into his chest and the friction felt great. John smirked and bit down on Clara's bottom lip, opening her mouth as his tongue dived into her mouth. He could feel her body against him and groaned into her mouth. John released her wrists and flipped them over, taking off his trousers, leaving himself in his boxers as he leant up to kiss Clara's neck.
For someone his age, he was pretty strong. As he kissed her neck, Clara grinded down on his bulge, then reached inside his boxers and what she found didn't disappoint. She started chuckling. "Oh, your weapon is impressive, you old dog." She felt the need to ask for his age but right now it wasn't the right time. So 'old dog' was something generic.
John smirked up at Clara, his hands roaming around her waist and back as she grinded against him. He let out a low growl and winked at her, his hands wrapping around her waist, his lips on her neck, "Sure you can take it?" He asked her, a big grin on his face.
"I'm fifty, not in my seventies…"
She laughed and hit his arm softly. "Even if I can't, I will try to, you hear me?"
At his comment about his age, she was left speechless. He was roughly 30 years older than her. Still, she didn't care. Not when he had that enormous package and looked as good as he did. "If you were in your seventies and you still looked like this or anything, believe me, I'd still fuck you." She pushed him down and sat exactly on top of his dick as she slid herself up and down on it. She grabbed his bearded face and started kissing him slowly as her body started to ride his.
John groaned quietly as Clara lowered herself on top him. He kissed her back, his hand tugging on a handful of her hair. "Got a thing for older men, Clara Oswald?" He asked her, his accent thicker as he started to move his hips in time with Clara's.
She hissed a little as she picked up the pace. "Mhm. I've never liked pretty young men." She moved her hands to take support on each side of his head as she started riding him slowly once again, feeling all of him, her lip between her teeth.
"Maybe because they know what they are doing and some of them are sex on legs." She said between pants.
John growled and leaned up slightly, kissing every inch of her neck. "Just like me then, right?" He asked her, a grin on his face as he dragged his tongue along her neck, soothing where he had left harsh hickeys. He grabbed hold of her hips, stopped her movements and started to move his own hips, growling against Clara's neck.
Clara held on his shoulders for dear life. She knew he had left hickeys on her neck because she felt it. She wanted to hit him because she knew they would be visible but a part of her was glad she would have a little souvenir from him because she was certain they would never see each other again. "Harder...!" She tangled her hands in his hair and leaned down to kiss him passionately as he pounded into her.
John flipped them over, still inside of her. He picked up his pace, grabbing one of her wrists as he slammed it down onto the bed, holding it tightly as he kissed along her jawline until he reached her mouth. He kissed Clara hard, like it was the last thing he would ever do. After all, he wouldn't see her again afterwards. She was heading to China in six hours and he was heading to NYC.
Her free hand moved, raking her nails down his back as she smiled into the kiss and gripped his arse with her hand, enjoying the way he was holding her other hand down. The sex she'd had was never this passionate. She'd leave it to the fact that this was hurried and she didn't know this attractive man. She kissed him back, her tongue dancing with his as she felt herself getting close again. John pushed himself harder and deeper inside of Clara, a low growl escaping his lips as they kissed, his hand that had her wrist pinned to the bed moved past her head and kept her there, his lips leaving hers as he kissed down the length of her neck, groaning at the sensation of her nails digging into his back. John's breath hitched in his throat, determined to make her cum way before he did. She started gasping for air, her body arching as she closed her eyes, her mouth agape. His groan and his kisses were driving her mad already. Only a few more thrusts and she came again, his name on her lips.
John growled loudly against Clara's lips, his heart racing as he came a few minutes after her, slowing down his hips as he kissed along her jawline, "Fuck…"
She freed her hand from his grasp and put her hands around him, caressing his back. As he cursed she chuckled softly, still out of breath. "That. Was. Awesome." She moved her head and kissed his cheek, not willing to let go just yet.
John collapsed on top of her, groaning into Clara's ear, still inside of her, "Fucking brilliant, Clara Oswald..."
She let her legs fall to the bed and laughed a bit. "Older men are certainly more experienced, I give you that." She played with the hair at the nape of his neck , still not believing what she had done but not regretting it one bit.
John nuzzled his face into Clara's neck, leaving a few kisses on her skin as he slowly pulled out of her. He smirked and laid down on his back, wrapping his arm around Clara's neck, turning his head to look at her, "Age means nothing, Oswald…"
She nodded as she decided to rest her head on his shoulder. She curled on his side, one arm over his ribcage as she traced lazy patterns on his skin. "I guess you're right. Then you know exactly what you are doing. Mr. Magic Hands...and everything, to be honest."
He smirked to himself, kissed into Clara's hair and lowered his voice in her ear, "Mr Magic Tongue and dick.." He snorted, a cocky grin on his face, his legs intertwining with hers.
She faced him, a stupid smile present on her face, her dimple more evident. "You are so cocky. But at least you are entitled to that cockiness." She leaned over him, still on her side and traced the outline of his lips with her thumb as she cupped his check.
"Especially your tongue. Most impressive, Mr. Smith." She was certain she would dream about his tongue, his dick and everything that was him for days to come, maybe even years.
John nodded, although he wasn't really listening. He cleared his throat, mumbled something Clara couldn't hear and closed his eyes, starting to fall asleep, his fingers running circles around her bare shoulder. She rolled her eyes, not really angry that he was starting to fall asleep. Typical man behaviour. She cuddled next to him anyway, dragging the bedsheets to cover both of them and closed her eyes. It was a nice idea to rest, since she was certain the jet lag would be horrible.