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ch0wen · 2 years ago

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The Escort - Part II | Tangerine x Fem!Reader

warnings: Smut, 18+ (minors dni), unprotected sex, oral f receiving, cursing, & violence A/N I genuinely appreciate all the feedback I got for part 1! Hopefully, I did part 2 justice. Truthfully, this was my first attempt at writing smut!

Previous: The Escort - Part I

Tangerine is trying his hardest not to swerve off the highway, as he directs the speeding car to the nearest exit.

Your purse was tossed back onto the ground. Freeing both your hands to explore more of the man’s neck and chest. You’re watching every minuscule expression flit across his face at your actions.

When your nails skimmed over his nipples, his fingers twitched on the wheel. Tightening your grip on his chain necklace had his eyes widening as he eased into the hold. A few gentle kisses placed under his ear or on his flexing jaw and you could’ve sworn you heard the softest whines escape him. You’re testing the waters with every touch.

After safely pulling off the highway, he has your car parked in a desolate lot. The cars whizzing by are no more than a hundred feet away.

“You’re a right-fucking minx. Get out,” he gruffly commanded. His palm pressed down on his erection.

You obey and exit the car. Yanking the driver’s side door open. Tangerine is now gripping the wheel with white knuckles. Trying to either take a moment to recollect himself because of his boner or the fact his job is being interrupted by the said issue.

You smile to yourself in satisfaction and you open your mouth to speak again. Most likely to say something snarky about how you made this cunning assassin fold by choking him out. However, in a blink of an eye the wind was knocked out of you, and Tangerine is standing with a weapon in his hand.

“God dammit,” you gasped while rubbing at your sore throat, “enough with that fucking umbrella!��

He scratched at his bottom lip with his thumb to hide his smirk, as he stood opposite you outside of the car. Discreetly amused by this cat-and-mouse game, a competition of power, the two of you have going on. Nonetheless, he listened and set the umbrella on the floor of the car.

You feel defeated. After what you could only assume was an attempted subdual of your pursuits. You try ignoring how hard he is in his pants for a moment. Assuming that he has been playing you with how interested he really is,

“Please. I’ll do anything to not get sent back there. Really, anything.”

His expression falters and he’s now frowning at you,

“No, no, no. I don’t do shit like that. I respect women. You’re not going to bribe me to have sex with you like some sort of payment to get out of being brought back to your fucked up mafia family.”

Your stomach dropped with the shake of his head. Embarrassment washed over you with his rejection. You don't notice the way his eyes cast down your body, before taking a stride forward. He lightly grabbed your wrists and turned your body around, so you move backward towards the car.

His hips make contact with yours first. Pinning you against the closed rear door with his hands finding your neck and cheek.

“Instead,” his eyes bore into yours. Conveying the importance of his next statement.

“I’d very much prefer it if you beg me to fuck you out of your own free will.”

He hummed, ringing like a question against your ear, then pressed a kiss to it while patting your cheek. You could feel how hard he was.

Why is he playing these mind games? He has lied to your face in order to take you back home, lets you explore his body one minute, assaults you with an umbrella the next, and is now openly dry humping you against your dirty Camry.

Regardless, this handsome man is asking you for consent. You're also the naive woman who agreed to drive basically cross-country with said man only a few hours ago at a gas station. Why start questioning and trying to reason with your desires now?

“Please,” your fingers tugged at his belt loops to press him impossibly closer to you. He grinned against your jaw, and placed more kisses there. Clearly waiting for the okay before he pounced on you.

“I want-...No. I need you to fuck me. Feel how wet I am for you. I bet I’m dampening the front of your pants like this. I need you in me. I want to feel you. God. Please.”

“That’s better.”

He doesn’t have any intention of unpinning you from your car. There’s just more teasing. He’s still grinding against you. Sure, one hand slides up the front of your shirt to cup your breast through your bra. The other grabs your thigh to lift and hook it around his waist. His teeth nip at your neck and chest; creating an array of red splotched markings. But you thought you made it clear how desperate you were for him. Why the delay? Is this payback for choking him out earlier? He is officially indecipherable.

A beat passed.

“Are you seriously going to get off by pinning me to this car? You gonna dirty your fancy trousers by jizzing your pants?”

“Watch it,” He finally takes a step back. His cock is straining against his dress pants. Leaving not much up for the imagination as to how much he’s packing in the confines of his trousers. You licked your lips and felt your legs waver. Tempted to fall to your knees onto the gravely ground and take all of him into your mouth.

“You,” he points a finger. Bringing your attention back up to his eyes, “Need to learn more about patience, darling.”

Then he moved to sit back down in the driver’s seat. Leaving the door wide open.

Now you’re worried your cynicism just lost you your chance to hook up with him. Your self-deprecating mental mantra stopped when he glanced back your way,

“Y/N? Come ‘ere.”

Your legs guided you to him and sling themselves over his muscular thighs. Clambering onto his lap. Your ass hits the steering wheel and the abrupt honk of the horn makes you both jump. His hands find your hips. Giving them a firm squeeze.

“No yea, let’s alert the entire motorway we’ve pulled off over here to fuck. Maybe sit back again love, I don’t think that eighteen-wheeler passing by quite heard ya.”

With a playful smack to his chest, you then keep your hand on his defined pec for some stability. Your hips grind down against him to shut him up of any more sarcastic quips.

Tangerine’s eyes roll to the back of his head before guiding your hips down to repeat the previous motion. You slip your shirt off, but notice your bra is already unclasped. You toss it onto the floor as well.

“When did you undo my bra?”

“I cannot be skilled at my job without nimble and deft fingers,” he waggled them at you, “Although, I need to work on my kleptomania. It’s a bad habit that I’m not proud of.”

You giggled as your right hand wrapped around the back of his neck. Playing with his hair lightly. He leaned forward to suck a love bite onto your ample tit. As the purple-ish bruise blooms, he moves back with a self-satisfied smirk while looking up at you,

“y’re not gonna wring my neck now Y/N, right?”

Your hand that was trailing up his newly exposed chest, after undoing the buttons, found his chain again and pulled on it to tighten around his neck. Tangerine rocked his hips up into yours in response.

“I think I learned you'd be sorely disappointed if I didn't.”

As you kept a firm grip on the necklace, he met your lips for a kiss. The hand that wasn’t guiding your hips down to grind against his, snaked to the front of you. His pointer and middle fingers rubbed circles against your clothed clit.

You gasped against his lips. Placing a hand on his shoulder for leverage to lift your hips up, so his hand isn't squished between your bodies. His fingers slipped into your underwear. You whine as his cool rings make contact. One finger, two, then three pumping into you the best he can from this angle. His rings rubbing inside you deliciously.

Your head lolls backward as you moan out and he takes the opportunity to lean forward and attack your neck to suck kisses. Soothing the marks with his tongue afterward.

It began to feel cramped trying to move against each other from this driver’s seat. You were hunched forward. Your head almost hit the roof of the car to provide him with the ability to finger you.

“Think we should move this?”

Wordlessly, he slipped his fingers out of you, lifted you by your armpits, and tossed you into the backseat. As you were pushing yourself into a seated position, Tangerine all but dove after you. His hands skillfully slip off your panties. Adding them to the collection of random shit on the floor of your car. His warm breath so close to your core, clashing with the cool air the moment when he gets them off of you. Sending a shiver through your body.

He was shifting around as he tried to find a comfortable position for his legs. His failed attempt makes him pull away to look back at his current position with a scowl -

His hips were hovering over the floor of the car at an angle, knees bent slightly with his calves pressed tightly together on the center console between the two front seats. He took a moment to pull himself down into a kneeling position on the floor, but not without grumbling to himself.

“Jesus fuck. What kind of clown car is this?”

“You’re the one willingly bending yourself into an actual pretzel just to eat my pussy.”

He shot an annoyed look up at you with no true malice behind it. He held your gaze before spitting onto your cunt. His stare shifted down to the mess he just added to your already wet core. He sucked on his bottom lip before leaning in to lap at you.

His mustache rubbed at your sensitive clit, which had you arching off the seat to pull away but then pushed yourself closer to his mouth. His hands found your thighs to firmly keep you in place.

Your fingers wove through his hair to muse at his slicked-back curls.

Tangerine took his time eating you out. You watched the way his head lulled from side to side as he worked. His tongue flicked at your nub then concentrated on licking into your cunt. His fingers massaging your thighs as he holds them still and open. Your cries are egging him on. His eyes are closed and he’s humming against you as he eats you out. You're slowly edging closer. But you want to cum around his cock. So, you gave him a little pat on the shoulder to stop him.

When he pulled away his lips were shiny and hair disheveled. He lifted himself in a crouched position to reach over and open the back door. He skillfully clambered over you and out of the car.

“Come on then,” he hummed as he unfastened his pants. His mustache and lips were obscenely wet with your juices and his saliva. He’s watching you with his belt clinking against the rings on his quickly moving fingers.

You begin scooting closer to him but apparently, it wasn’t fast enough. Because he leaned in to grab your thighs and slide you to the edge of the seat. Your skirt rode up. Your bare legs hang outside of the car. Instinctively you wrapped them around his hips. Pulling him closer to you.

Tangerine bunched up your skirt around your stomach more and pushed his briefs and pants down enough to expose his cock. He bent further into the car to suck on your neck while his penis rubbed against you. Slicking himself up. You tilted your head to the side. Loving the feeling of his facial hair chafing your skin with his lips then soothing the spots he unintentionally irritated.

He put a hand for leverage next to your head on the seat, as he plunged into you. Tangerine let out a breathy moan.

“Oh. Fuck.”

He bottomed out with a groan. Kissing you languidly then down to suckle on your nipples. All while beginning to thrust deeply into you.

Your eyes are droopy, in the most blissed-out haze watching the way Tangerine focuses on fucking you. He's sitting up and back slightly. His hair in complete disarray. His eyes following the way he slides in and out of your pussy. He alternated his movements, from fast and shallow, to pulling all the way out and pushing in deep. He's watching the way his cock moved into you. There is so much control in the way his body moves and it clearly mesmerizes him too.

"Look at that. You're taking me so well."

You reached up to grip at his forearm. This caught his attention. He leaned closer, never stopping inside you. You caressed his cheek and your hand trailed down his neck to grasp at the gold chain again. With a low moan escaping from his bitten red lips.

“You feel so fucking good,” he all but growled out. His head tilted down again to watch himself move, which also decreased his airflow with his head at this angle. He hummed and you noticed his blue eyes hood with pleasure.

He’s close again, kissing you passionately. Grunting and groaning with every thrust against your lips. The hold he had on your hips tightened with your legs still wrapped around his. His loose belt clinked with the speed at which he was moving in you. Your back arching off the seat. Pressing your body to his, as he repeatedly hit the right angle inside you.

He's maintaining this brutal pace. You're desperately clenching and unclenching on his cock. His praises keep adding to your pleasure. But truthfully it didn't matter what he said or called you. His accent was enough of a turn on in and of itself.

His balls slap against you at every thrust and you’re almost certain you’re going to cum. You whine as Tangerine rubbed harsh circles on your swollen bud.

His hips bucking into you. Hitting that particular spot that had you seeing stars. His nimble fingers rubbed your clit and sent you tumbling over your edge. You bite your lip, trying to contain your moans that sound borderline pornographic at this point and throw your head back as you came around his cock.

After a few more thrusts, you felt him spill inside you. Tangerine letting out a guttural groan.

He waited a moment before carefully pulling out. You whimpered as the sensation of his cum running down your thighs makes you clench around nothing.

Tangerine tucked himself in his pants and helped you sit up. Adjusting your skirt, picking your shirt and panties off the floor before handing them to you.

He kissed your cheek then smoothed your hair back away from your face, "Have to make sure you're looking like new before we get you home.”

"Gee, thanks. But the hickeys on my body may give away that you tested out the merchandise before returning it.”

————

You're now in the passenger seat with Tangerine starting the engine back up. Making you more of a willing participant in this journey to Nevada after getting fucked in the backseat. A strong hand gripped your thigh. Giving it a firm but reassuring squeeze.

His nice gesture became hotter, as his hand slid higher up. Tangerine ran his fingers over the drenched fabric that stuck to your folds. You watched the way he kept his eyes on the road while his jaw tensed.

He then pressed on your knee. Closing your legs together. The loss of his warm hand on your sensitive pussy had you frowning. But you silently thank him for avoiding the overstimulation.

“I suppose you can bring me home. And maybe I’ll keep running away so my family sends a hot escort out after me every time.”

Tangerine’s lips quirked up into an amused smile as he gave you a sideways once over, “looking forward to it. It’s also only Wednesday. We still have quite a bit of road to cover before we reach Lemon outside of Nevada.”

You hummed with your eyebrows furrowed,

“Wait, Lemon? What’s your code name?”

“Tangerine.”

“Oh, like the fruit?”

A beat. His hand flexed on the wheel,

“Yea like the fucking fruit.”

*** Tag List ***

@catreadsthings @jxybirdie @simp-for-fictional-people @ajd-spam @littlefreakingfangirl @noz4a2 @28cnn @uglynuggy45 @scottsummersgf @family-video @the-hidden-pages @marshmelloyellow02 @e2lya

#this was my first attempt ever writing smut take it easy on me pls #tangerine x fem!reader #bullet train movie #bullet train #smut #tangerine smut #tangerine x you #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson smut #bullet train 2022 #lemon and tangerine

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rubyreduji · 2 years ago

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[minors dni]

"j-josh!" you gasp

his hips rut into you unrelenting. one of his hands has your wrists pinned above your head while the other holds your hips down onto the mattress

he drives his cock into you deep and fast and hard. after the three rounds you two went through before this you're completely wrecked but dont want to stop anytime soon

"so good, fuck you're insatiable," josh growls

you cant responded, too fucked out to form coherent sentences. instead you moan out, no better than a bitch in heat

you feel like a pornstar, spread out on the bed, legs flailing in the air, as you and joshua go round after round, barely stopping in between each one as joshua keeps filling you up with his loads

pleasure thrums through your body and he continues to thrust into you. your eyes flutter shut, rolling into the back of your head as you arch your back off the bed

if you told yourself from even just four hour ago that you and your best friend would be having the most mind blowing, toe curling, back arching sex you've ever had in your life you would absolutely not believe it. but here you are, pinned to the bed as he slides his dick in and out of you, whispering into the air how good you are

this all really started because of your ex. your ex who sent you a very unsolicited video of him and the girl he cheated on you with having sex

you didn't even mean to open the video to begin with, you were trying to block him, but once it started playing your blood started boiling

it was then that joshua suggested you guys got even. joshua kept claiming your ex was only doing it to make you jealous and upset about the break up, giving him a power trip. josh's best solution was to get right back at him and do the same

now you're typically very level headed but you were just mad enough to agree. it also doesn't hurt that yeah josh is super hot and his gentlemanly demeanor makes him even more attractive. not to mention it has been a while since you had gotten some action and to say you were desperate wasn't much of a lie

it started off fairly innocent. you didn't want to go too far, just enough to send something that implied you had also moved on. it was a simple mirror picture with joshua's hand snaked up your shirt and his face buried in your neck.

then your ex sent back that it was fake and well you couldn't handle that. so that's how you ended up on your bed in just your underwear, joshua's hand gripping your thigh

but your ex never knew when to stop and he kept going, spurring you and joshua to do the same. soon your little game with your ex turned into a game between you and joshua, the previous man forgotten as you and your best friend slowly tested how far you could go with each other

so now here you are, being split open on his cock for the forth time tonight

"that's right, take it," joshua growls. you swear you've never seen him like this before. "no one else can make you feel like this huh?"

"n-no j-joshie," you cry out but it comes out more i squeaks and pants

"always hated your ex. knew he wasn't taking care of you properly. not like how i could." joshua moves his hand up to grip you at the base of your neck, not completely choking you but still maintaining that controlling hold

joshua is right, your ex had never fucked you the way he is. your head it airy and your legs are sore and your throat is burning and you've never felt so good in your entire life

"so sexy," joshua murmurs, "been wanting this for a while now"

fuck. his confession has you spasming around his cock, pulling another orgasm out of you. as you clench around josh you milk his cock and he spills his load into you once more

his grip on you loosens and you both collapse onto the bed in a tangle as you try to catch your breaths

when you finally stop panting you roll over a bit to grab your phone and open up your messages

"i uh, think he blocked me," you say, still a little breathy

"who?" josh looks completely fucked out with messy hair and droopy eyes and a sheen of sweat on his face

"my ex"

"oh. right." josh responds, like he forgot that's what started all of this to begin with. which you don't blame him. he stopped being the main focus about three rounds ago

"hey." you turn to joshua with a smirk on your face. "wanna order food and fuck until it gets here?"

despite looking out of it only a few seconds prior a spark flares up in josh's eyes and he grins back at you "only if you do all the work this time"

#seventeen #svt #seventeen smut #joshua hong #hong jisoo #joshua smut #joshua drabble #joshua imagines #joshua scenarios #joshua x reader #gn reader #gn reader smut #smut drabble #kpop smut #rru.fics #rru.writes #★ mdni

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lostinthewiind · 3 years ago

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Piss Off Your Parents - Part 4

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: mentions sexual experiences of reader before she was of age, discussion about sex lives, flirting, touching

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous →Part 3

Next →Part 5

Head resting in your hand and elbow resting on the counter, you huffed, still not used to the heat that accumulated in the store throughout the day and praying for just one customer to walk through the door so you could experience a refreshing blast of evening air. You supposed you could go outside yourself to cool off a little, like Keishin had previously suggested in lieu of sticking your head in one of the fridges, but being the only person at the store currently, you felt a little bad about leaving the building, even if it was just to step out front.

You were still trying your best to put on a good impression for Mrs. Sakanoshita—despite the rough first impression you had made on her son—and you knew the family store was precious, so you decided to suck it up for the remainder of your shift.

Without much to do, since you had completed your chores early, you remained seated at the front counter, bored out of your mind. That was, until your prayers were answered and you heard the front doors slide open.

“Hello!” you greeted happily, ready to welcome a customer. Your radiant excitement faded when you noticed it was just Keishin, however, and went back to slumping on the counter. “Oh, it’s just you.”

“Wow, those rapid mood changes must be why we’ve been so busy lately,” Keishin shot back at you, a cigarette hanging from his mouth like usual. “Will the girl behind the counter smile or frown at you? Maybe it’ll be both. Oh, how exciting!”

“Can it, dye job,” you grumbled.

Keishin feigned hurt, his hand resting over his chest dramatically as he pretended to have been shot. “Words hurt, you know. You’ve hurt me.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you told him, lazily gesturing around the empty store. “What does matter is that we’ve been dead for hours and I’m bored.”

Keishin poked his bottom lip out and faked a pout. “Awh, poor baby. Is getting paid to sit there and do nothing hard work? You must be exhausted. Poor thing.”

“I don’t get paid nearly enough to put up with you.” You reached across the counter to lightly smack his shoulder but he jumped out of the way just in time. “Seriously though, stay and entertain me for a while.”

“If you’re that bored, why don’t you dust the vents or something?”

You laid your head down on the counter and exhaled slowly for effect. “You know I aim to please but that sounds like hell. Can’t you just talk to me for like ten minutes? Tell me about your day or something.”

Keishin threw his head back and groaned loudly. “But I’m too hungry to think about anything other than food right now.”

“I’m hungry too but you don’t see me complaining about it.”

“No, you’re just complaining about everything else.” He leaned against the other side of the counter, his tongue flicking against the tip of his cigarette as he thought. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea.”

You glanced up at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I doubt it but proceed.”

Done with your constant back talk, which was extremely common between the two of you ever since you had worked out your differences and agreed to the deal he had suggested, he took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke directly into your face. “Just shut up and listen, will you?”

You coughed when you accidentally inhaled the second-hand smoke. “If I get cancer and die, I’m haunting you.”

“Go ahead.” He didn’t pay any attention to the words leaving your mouth as he headed into the back room and shut off the store lights. Then, with his own set of keys in hand, he headed back toward the front of the store. “Come on.” He looked back at you expectantly when you didn’t immediately follow.

Confused, you slowly stepped around from the back of the counter. “Where are we going?”

“We’re closing up early and going to get something to eat.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, half of you wondering if this was some sort of employee test to see how responsible you were. “Are we allowed to do that?”

“I am, you aren’t,” Keishin said, beckoning you over to him. “But let’s just keep this between you and I, yeah? What my mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Besides, it’s slow anyway.”

Taking off your white apron and grabbing your things, you reluctantly followed the older man out of the store and watched as he locked up behind the two of you. Anxiously, you shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Are you sure I won’t get in trouble for this?”

“I promise I won’t tell on you,” Keishin assured you as he stuffed the keys back into his pocket and dropped his cigarette bud to the ground before crushing it with his foot. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

Falling into pace beside Keishin as the two of you set off down the sidewalk, you following his lead, you weren’t sure exactly sure what to say or even if you should say something. Never before had you and Keishin existed outside of the store together and it felt a little awkward.

“So . . . is this like a date or something?” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. What you had meant to come across as a casual inquiry ended up sounding more like a desperate girl clarifying what she meant to the boy she liked. You sounded like a child.

The corners of Keishin’s mouth curled upward and he shrugged. “Call it whatever you want.” He really didn’t seem to care one way or another. “Although, I’d be a horrible boyfriend if I didn’t take you out at least once . . . fake or not.”

You nearly choked on your spit at the use of the word ‘boyfriend’. Even though you had been pretending to date him for the purposes of changing your parents’ ideals for the past few weeks, you were still caught off guard every time Keishin referred to himself as your boyfriend—even though he was usually doing it to mock you.

“Yeah, just awful,” you agreed halfheartedly. “Where are we going anyway?”

“This little place that I like,” he said, his answer extremely vague until he continued. “Best ramen I’ve ever had.”

After a few more minutes of walking, the two of you arrived at the place Keishin was talking about and he ordered two take-out bowls and paid for them both, insisting that you should try his regular order since you had never been there before. Not wanting to disagree because he was footing the bill, you let him do what he wanted and tailed him out to a picnic table outside like an obedient puppy.

“It’s much too hot to eat inside,” Keishin reasoned as he plopped down on the opposite side of the picnic table from you. “Plus, it’s nice outside. Might as well enjoy the weather while it lasts, right?”

“Right.” You nodded.

While Keishin dug right into his meal, you sat still, hands in your lap, and watched him. One thing you had quickly come to realize was that Keishin was the perfect specimen for people watching, and not just because he was relatively easy on the eyes. He was an interesting person; for example, how he tucked half-smoked cigarettes behind his ear to smoke later or how he always wore a headband to keep his hair out of his face but vehemently refused to just cut his damn hair.

Even though you bugged him about cutting his hair all the time, you secretly hoped he would continue to stand his ground and refuse because you wanted to see what he looked like with his hair down. You also wanted to run your hands through his hair—it looked soft and fluffy—but that was besides the point.

“Hey, it’s gonna get cold,” Keishin snapped you out of your thoughts, his mouth half full of ramen as he jabbed his chopsticks in your direction. “Don’t tell me you don’t like ramen. You should have said something before I ordered for both of us.”

Snapping out of your daze, you picked up your chopsticks and shook your head. “No, I like ramen.” You took a bite to prove your point. “Sorry, I was just lost in thought.”

Keishin waited for you to eat a little more before digging for your consensus. “Good, right?”

“Yeah, really good,” you agreed. “I always walk past this place but I’ve never gone inside.”

“I was the same way. It doesn’t really catch your eye, so unless you’re looking for it, it’s easy to miss,” he said. “Then one day my grandpa took me here for my birthday and I’ve been coming ever since.”

You snickered. “Popular date spot then?”

Keishin cocked a brow. “What?”

“I mean, if you come here a lot, I’m sure it’s a go-to for dates,” you continued. “It even comes with a wholesome story about how your grandpa introduced you to it. Ultimate chick magnet.”

Keishin just rolled his eyes at you. “You know, contrary to popular belief, most girls don’t like it when you take them out to eat cheap ramen on a picnic table that’s falling apart.”

You chuckled. “I wasn’t going to say anything about the table, but I’m pretty sure I have at least ten splinters in my ass by now.”

“Yeah, this thing is torture. So eat fast and then we’ll move to the park across the street or something.”

Shoveling the rest of your food into your mouth, you ate fast while Keishin stared you down, every second that passed introducing your butt to a new world of pain. As soon as you were done, Keishin took both of your take-out bowls and tossed them into a nearby trashcan.

“Well, sucks for all those other girls then, because that ramen really is amazing,” you said when Keishin returned, the two of you crossing the street and heading into the park.

“Told you.” Keishin smiled. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Once in the park, which was empty considering it was dark out and most kids were in bed by then, the two of you picked a nearby bench that wasn’t splintering and took a seat.

Drawing your knees up to your chest, you wrapped your arms around your legs and sighed. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He let his head fall back and looked up at the night sky. “Damn, I could really go for an ice cold beer right now.”

“Well, we could start heading back now if you want,” you suggested. “The beers at the store are extra chilly since I didn’t stick my head in the fridges to cool off today, despite how sweltering it was.”

Keishin laughed. “Well, thank you for that,” he drew in a deep breath and relaxed into the bench, deciding whether to get up or not. “Let’s stay here for a while longer though.”

“Okay.”

Silence fell over the two of you as you stared up at the sky and listened to the sounds of Miyagi in the evening. You tried to remember the last time you had gone out like this—just going wherever you wanted and doing whatever you wanted. You couldn’t recall the last time . . . or even if there was a last time.

Tilting your head to look at Keishin, you smiled at the sight of him sitting with his eyes closed, arms crossed behind his head and head lolled back. He looked happy, almost as peaceful as he did when he was sleeping.

“Hey,” you whispered.

Keishin cracked an eye open to look at you. “Hmm?”

“Thanks for tonight.” You breathed in the scent of the night air and a feeling of content washed over you. “As you’ve probably already figured out, I don’t really have any friends. I don’t get to go out like this very often . . . or ever, really.”

“You don’t need to thank me. It’s what boyfriends are for, right?”

You giggled. “Well, considering you’re not my real boyfriend, I think a ‘thank you’ is in order.”

“Well, you’re welcome,” he caved. “Speaking of fake boyfriends, how’s it going with your parents?”

You let out a frustrated moan. “Oh, about as well as expected. When I mentioned I was seeing someone they bombarded me with a million questions, none of which were answered to their satisfaction.”

Keishin cringed. “So I’m that bad, huh?”

You scoffed. “If you think that’s bad, you should have seen their faces when I showed them a photo of you.”

Keishin let out a laugh. “Don’t tell me they weren’t fans of the piercings?”

“Oh, they weren’t fans of anything,” you said. “I think the only positive thing they could say about you was that you had a pulse . . . no offense.”

“Eh, no worries. At least they didn’t call me a burnout . . . then I would have started crying.”

“Hey!” You smacked at his shoulder again, managing to hit your target this time. “I said I was sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t pay for my therapy.”

“Yeah, well, if you need therapy I doubt I’m the biggest reason.”

“You really are so cruel to me. Do your parents know you facilitate abusive relationships?”

You closed your eyes and shook your head. “That insinuates I’ve had past relationships, or any real ones.”

Keishin craned his neck to look at you, eyes wide. “Wait, you’ve never been in a relationship before? Like never?”

“Nope. I don’t even have any friends, so what makes you think anyone wants to date the boring girl with the crazy parents?”

Keishin looked at you like you were some wounded animal he had just found on the side of the road. You could see in his eyes he was slowly coming to terms with just how isolating your life was. You could tell he felt bad, but the last thing you wanted was his sympathy.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that,” you told him. “I’m not completely pathetic, okay? I still went through my experimental phase like most teenagers do. I just had to be very sneaky about it.”

“Sneaky?”

“You know, back of a car, other people’s houses when their parents were gone. As far as my parents know, I’m untainted . . . a precious, naive virgin. I’m just not very experienced.”

“I can imagine.” Keishin was a little thrown by the direction the conversation had taken, but you were both adults and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little curious, so he just rolled with it. “High school boys aren’t exactly known for being great in bed.”

The two of you let out a shared laugh at that. “You got that right,” you agreed.

“So, wait, no relationships but you’ve had sex? So you’ve never been with someone you have a genuine connection with?”

You eyed Keishin, perplexed by the sudden sincerity in his words. “You didn’t peg me as someone who cares about that kind of stuff.”

“I mean, I’ve had my fair share of one night stands, sure, but I’m not completely heartless,” he said, the eye contact he was using while he spoke sending a chill down your spine. “It’s completely different when it’s someone you care about. The experience is something everyone should have at least once in their lives.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a genuine connection with anyone before,” you confessed, unsure why you were spilling some of your deepest secrets in public, on a park bench, to a man you had only known for a couple of months. “It’s kind of hard when everyone is held at an arm’s length away.”

Without warning, Keishin shifted closer to you and placed his hand on your face, the pad of his thumb ghosting over your bottom lip. “I . . . I don’t know what to say,” he breathed.

“It’s not sad, not for me at least. You can’t miss something you’ve never had,” you spoke softly, worried you might scare him away if your voice was too loud or if you made any sudden movements. “No best friends, no boyfriends. Just me, my parents, and everyone else.”

Keishin looked like he wanted to say something; in fact, he looked like he wanted to say a lot of things, but despite this, he remained silent. Maybe he was worried about offending you, or maybe he was finally understanding just how different you were from other people. Maybe he didn’t like different.

“But now there’s you.” You flashed a small smile, hoping to draw him out of whatever mess was going on inside of his head. “I’ve never met someone like you before.”

“Someone like me?” he finally spoke.

You nodded as you placed your hand over the one he was resting on your cheek and held it. “I’m not your responsibility and yet you’re going out of your way to help me. Not to mention I don’t even deserve your help. You are the first truly selflessly kind person I’ve ever met. Thank you.”

“What if I’m not as kind as you think I am?” His hands found their way to your waist and he pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him. “What will you do then?”

“That depends on what you’re planning on doing.”

Hands running up your sides, Keishin dug his finger tips into your skin as you lowered your head toward his, mouths inches apart. “What if I took you home, laid you down, and took care of you like a boyfriend should?” You could feel his hot breath on your face as he spoke. “What if I took advantage of your lack of experience?”

“I would say thank you,” you said, inching closer. Before your lips met, however, you stopped yourself. “But I promised not to fall in love, and I think it would be awfully hard to keep my promise if you did that.” With that, you planted your hands on his shoulders and pushed yourself away from him before he could make a decision he would later regret.

Standing up, you collected yourself and drew in a deep breath. As soon as you had detached yourself from Keishin, you could see the fog that had been clouding his judgement dissipating as he came back to his senses.

“I should probably head home now.” You decided, not wanting to ruin the first actual friendship you had by doing something stupid and selfish.

“Yeah.” Keishin nodded, slowly standing up as well. It was clear he was slightly embarrassed by his actions, but you also noticed the glint in his eyes that gave away the part of him that still wanted to take you home with him.

Trying to immediately leave what had just happened in the past, you smiled and turned to start heading home, opting to take the longer way so you wouldn’t have to take the same route as Keishin. “Good night, Keishin.”

“Good night, Y/N.” You heard him call after you, but you didn’t look back at him. Instead, you kept walking, hoping the time apart would serve as a reset on your relationship and put things back to how they had been before that night.

A few weeks ago, you would have jumped at the chance Keishin had dangled in front of your face just now. But since then, you had realized he was more important to you than someone you could just throw away with a one night stand. And since there was no way the two of you could actually be together, this was the only option if you didn’t want to lose him.

If only someone had warned you that genuine connections were this complicated.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#lostinthewiind #piss off your parents #ukai #ukai keishin #ukai keishin x reader #keishin #mature #haikyuu smut #x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #part 4 #song fic

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years ago

Text

Yes, sir! | Niki Lauda

Professor Lauda AU! 👨‍🏫

Gender neutral reader

Dedicated to @lieutenantn and @scuttle-buttle 💕

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 7

Sitting in his car felt strange, but you also felt... at home. Niki obviously gets paid handsomely going by his car, but you didn't comment on it.

With one hand on the wheel, he holds yours with his free hand. Now that you've crossed the line together, he wants to whatever he can just to hold you.

No matter how wrong it was for him to have feelings for his student, he had no intention of letting you go.

He parks outside of a very nice house. You can only stare in amazement, but it makes sense his house would be as nice as his car.

He opens the door for you. You were distracted by the exterior of the house to even bother climbing out. He chuckles as he offers his hand. You smile as you take it and step out.

"You live here?"

"Yes."

He takes a key from his pocket and opens the door, holding it open for you. You go inside. The only thing that comes to mind is how little it looks lived in. Everything was pristine.

"Do you actually live here?"

"Yes, why do you ask?" He comes to stand beside you.

"This house is so... tidy."

He chuckles softly.

"I'm very rarely here. I only come here to eat and sleep. I spend most of my time at the university."

"Oh..."

"Please, make yourself comfortable."

You follow him into the kitchen. You sit at the table as you look around. Despite how neat and tidy it was, it was definitely him. He got right into his home.

Niki sheds his jacket and drapes it over the chair near you. He walks over to the fridge and grabs some ingredients.

"You're going to cook?"

"Yes," he sounds amused, "you sound surprised."

"I suppose I never really imagined you cooking."

"Oh? And how have you imagined me?" He asks, grin tugging at his lips as he looks at you with a sly gaze.

You choke on air as you look at him with wide eyes.

He laughs.

Niki turns back around to focus on cooking you something. You sit and you watch him.

You had to be dreaming. There was no way you were sitting in your professor's house while he cooked for you.

There was no way he kissed you earlier.

But he did.

You had kissed him.

You were utterly in love with your teacher and you couldn't believe it. Yet, here you were.

Niki pushes his sleeves up to his elbows as he works. You're completely captured by him. He's clearly made what he's cooking several times before. He moves seamlessly.

You're in awe with everything about him.

So much so, you haven't realised just how long you had been watching him. He sets a plate down in front of you and sits in the chair next to you.

"If you keep staring at me like that, I won't be able to control myself," he says, voice dropping several octaves.

You're once again left speechless by his comments.

He reaches out and brushes your cheek softly with his finger.

"Eat."

You tear your gaze away, though regretfully, from his and focus on your meal.

Though you both eat in silence, it's not awkward. It's comfortable and welcoming. You try so hard not to look up at him because you know you'll only stare at him again.

Niki Lauda was a handsome man and you could just... look at him for hours.

No one else saw him the way you did.

He knew that too.

He had seen the way you look at him in class. He knew how much effort you put into assignments because you wanted to impress him. Niki knew it all, and he lived every second of it.

He took your plate when you were finished and placed them in the sink.

"Come with me."

He once again offers you his hand. You take it and let him guide you upstairs. He opens the door to a lavish bedroom, with a bed that doesn't look like it's been slept in at all, and he sits on the bed. You sit next to him, leg practically over his.

"How is this going to work?" You ask, eyes trailing to his lips. He was so close. So very close.

"I can whisk you away on dates, but I will not interfere with your studying. We shall plan accordingly. My office is always open. If you visit after hours, no one will interrupt. You know where I live now, I'll leave a key under the mat. I'll give you my number, you can contact me at any time. If you want this as much as I do, then we will make this work."

"I do. I do want it."

He smiles.

"Then don't worry about anything. This will work, you'll see."

Finally he closes the space between you by kissing you. You cling to his shirt. His hands snake around you to pull you as physically close as he can hold you.

He doesn't recall the last time he had been this happy.

It was going to be tough, but he was going to make this work. He was enamoured with you.

Niki drives you home later in the evening. You sit in his car outside of your home. His hand is in yours again.

"I shall see you in class then," you say, gazing at him softly.

"Yes. You better study for that test. You get no special privileges just because we are together."

You chuckle, "damn, thought I'd get some special treatment."

He chuckles too.

Niki leans over and steals a kiss before you leave. You try to make it last, but even you know you have to leave at some point.

"See you."

"See you," he smiles.

You climb out and stand by the door as you watch him go. Never before have you felt so over the moon as you close the door behind you.

You're in love and he loves you back.

University was going to so much better than you anticipated.

@lieutenantn @scuttle-buttle @rumblelibrary @zemosimp05 @hb8301 @celtic-witch-bitch @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lorna-d-m @anteroom-of-death @belle82devart @vverliebt @alltimebandsexual666 @charistory @mischief-siriusly-managed @thatoneartgalsstuff @mssennimatilda @hannahbal-the-fannibal @apparrio @templeofthejam

#niki lauda au #niki lauda x reader #daniel brühl x reader #Daniel Brühl AU #au #professor au

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differentkettleoffishalltogether · 4 years ago

Text

I’m On Fire [Chapter 2]

With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.

Chapter Summary: Y/N and Spencer start to put a plan together.

A/N: I’ve got a head cold at the mo’ but I had to get a covid test just in case so I’m not allowed leave my room till I get the results! So enjoy a bonus chapter while I wallow on my own for like 36 hours :( On a positive note, thank you guys all so much for the response to chapter 1 I really didn’t see that coming! I’ve tagged everyone who asked, let me know if you wanna be added

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Category: Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst, it’s a Slow Burn Baby

Warnings: Cursing, some NSFW language/themes

Word Count: 6.1k

Previous Chapter -- Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

"Are you coming up or what?"

The question was still ringing in my ears. It caught me completely off guard. 'Up' as in up to Spencer's apartment? Where he lived? I knew he lived somewhere in theory, just like I knew deep down that he wasn't made in a test tube.

Without noticing I've undone my seatbelt and I'm hopping out of the car, following him around to the front door. I guess I am coming up.

Spencer's apartment is more cosy than I thought it was going to be. It's warm and lived in. It's not big, but I think that might be what makes it homely. Something about the way he behaves had me thinking it would be fully decked out in stainless steel or glass or something. But it wasn't pristine, it was messy.

There were books bursting from the shelves that lined the walls of the apartment, along with books laid open over nearly every surface in the place, it looked like he was in the middle of reading all of them, and honestly, I didn't doubt it. Maybe I'd misjudged him. He even had some photos of what looked like his family, and maybe friends, even some of the BAU, lining his walls or propped up on his mantle. He had little trinkets and souvenirs on his shelves too, evidence that he'd been around the country for reasons other than a case. I would never admit it to him but there was a real charm to the place.

Once we got inside he took off his bag and suit jacket, tossing them on the desk just inside of the door. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, and he seemed to pick up on my awkward energy.

"You can make yourself at home" he said, his confident streak remaining. I had no idea what to do with that. What would even make me comfortable in Spencer Reid's apartment? I took a seat on his sofa and just sat with my hands resting in my lap. Really not even sure where I should look without feeling like I was invading his privacy. Even though I wanted to. I think it was morbid curiosity, looking for clues on who this man might actually be outside of the BAU. What I really wanted to do was stand up and walk around, soaking in every bit if this place as if it would help me decipher our messy relationship.

He returned to the living room a few moments later, two mismatched mugs in his hands. He places one in front of me on the coffee table. I pick it up and take a sip. It's lemon and ginger, how did he know what kind of tea I liked? I held the mug in my hands inhaling the steam in an effort to relax. When I look up he's watching me, arms folded across his chest.

"So, how does this thing work. What's the game plan?" I honestly have no real idea. This evening really got away from me, I was still expecting to snap out of it and wake up in my bed at any moment.

"Well I can't say I've ever been in a Sandra Bullock movie before either so this is uncharted territory for me too" I say with a chuckle, trying to ease the tension. Even a little. I can see him crack a small smile but hides it almost instantly, his face hardening again.

"My sister, Margot, she's getting married in like 4 months." I can feel myself tense and I shake out my shoulders, I have to remind myself that he's agreed to this already, "Fuck it, I'm just going to be honest with you. My Mom's mostly freaked out that I'm too attached to this job and that I'll just never find someone again." I shouldn't have said again, fuck. I hope he didn't pick up on that. Who am I kidding. "Even though, I'm not sure I care if I do or don't?" he doesn't say anything, like he's waiting for me to continue. I know I've shared a little too much already but I keep going.

"Margot's 2 years younger than me, I introduced her to her fiancé Philip, we met in college, he's a sweetheart. But since they've gotten engaged Mom's gotten exponentially weirder. I think she's convinced I'm fully going to die alone, as if that would be the worst thing that could ever happen? Anyway, she's been trying to auction me off to all these guys, using this wedding as an excuse. I'm not sure how much of that phone call you actually heard earlier but Mom was trying to sell me on this guy, David, and I just… snapped." I look up at Spencer and he unfolds his arms, leaning in ever so slightly coaxing the story out of me.

"David, he uh, he worked for my father for a while back in high school, filing documents and stuff, busy work mostly. He used to make out with me when he was at our house after school, but then he'd ignore me in the halls the next morning. I know it's because I was a pariah back then or something but I didn't want to think about it today and I just got worked up. I shouldn't have let on that you were my date, I was just going to ask if I could bring Garcia or something, and I'm sorry." I cover my face in my hands, "I'm insane, you can back out if you want to."

I can hear him move from his spot on the opposite side of the sofa, he takes my wrists and gently pulls my hands from my face. He looks into my eyes, "I'm in this now Y/N, what do you need me to do?" he asks, and there's a genuine earnest in his voice that I think I've only ever heard a handful of times. And it's never been directed at me.

"Okay, well we've got a few months before you ha–, wait, fuck!" I throw my head back, there's already a complication, "shit" I curse under my breath. His eyebrows knit together, sitting upright.

"What's the matter?" he asks.

"I forgot about my Mom's 50th, it's next month. They've got this whole huge party planned back home in upstate New York. I've gotta go and they'll probably want to meet you, or they're gonna have a load of questions for me at least. I can try and get you out of it I'm sure"

He gets that cocky look again, he shakes his head "I don't know, I've always liked a bit of competition" he reclines back into his corner of the sofa, taking a satisfied sip from his own mug before speaking again. "You know, if I've got to learn enough to pass as your boyfriend in a month, surely that means you've got to learn enough to pass as my girlfriend within the month, no?"

Oh god. What have I done, why didn't I think this far ahead. "I mean, yeah I guess you're right." I had to remember he was doing me a favor. I had to get over myself. "Okay, if you're sure you're up for that?" I ask, and he nods, and I think he looks excited, or maybe he just finds the whole situation funny.

"If anyone's up for the competition it's you" he says, and I'm not sure if that's a compliment or a dig but I nod in agreement.

He takes another sip of his tea, collected and relaxed. I can't help but notice how at ease he is when he's in his own surroundings. I'm so used to seeing him sitting at a desk surrounded by paperwork, or combing through file after file in the make-shift office in a small-town police station, usually flustered or anxious, or antagonizing me whenever he wasn’t. This was a different Spencer. Completely in control, at ease.

"Alright, shall we get started then, we can't really afford to waste any time can we?" he was actually sort of right, so I nodded. It was only now occurring to me that I'd have to share parts of my personal life with him if I wanted this plan to work. We already knew the basics about each other, I'd read his file when I started at the BAU, I'd read everyones. And I feel like it was safe to presume he'd done the same.

His eyes bore directly into mine as he leaned forward, I think he was enjoying how uncomfortable I must've looked.

"How about I ask you some rapid-fire questions and you have to answer 'em?" he asks, and it's as good of a plan as any, and I can't think of any other suggestions, so I nod.

"Okay, shoot." I say, unsure and nervous, so I brace myself. I'm just grateful that he's making my life easier rather than harder for what feels like the first time since I met him.

I really should've known better.

He leans in, "So Y/N, first question, when did you lose your virginity?"

I almost choke on the mouthful of tea I just took, that can't be what he just asked, and he looks like he's savoring my shocked expression.

"I uh, I don't think you need to know that?" is all I can get out.

"Really? You think that's something your boyfriend wouldn't know about you?" he's right, but I didn't want to admit it outright.

"I feel like I sort of already hinted. It was that same guy David, I was 18, he was 19. We had sex on the couch while my parents went out one evening. I kept my bra on the whole time, he came, I didn't. It was all very standard stuff." I wasn't sure what compelled me to add that last part. I think I was giving in to the open honestly thing. "So what about you Doc?" I challenged.

He didn't seem embarrassed, or even shy. "I must've bloomed little later than you" he admits with a soft chuckle, "Vivian Stewart, I was 21, she was too. It was the last semester of my last PhD and I figured I must be missing out on something. And I sure was" he smirks to himself. "I came, she did too, 3 times. I did a lot of research ahead of time" he mirrored my story and I rolled my eyes. It was hard not to feel a little impressed but I tried with everything I had to stifle it so he couldn't tell. I wish it didn't make me feel something but it did. I gulp down the mouthful of tea that's been sitting in my throat.

I have to shake myself back to reality. I can't give him the satisfaction of throwing me. "My turn." I command, "When was your last relationship Dr. Reid?" I ask, "I mean like, serious one, not like hook-up" I clarify before he can ask. He thinks on it for a moment.

"I'm not sure what you classify as fully serious, but I guess it was this girl, Rebecca, we dated for a while when I first joined the BAU but it didn't work out. What about you?" he flips it back.

"So that was what, like 6-ish years ago?" I ask, he just nods.

"Mine was like 3 years ago now I think. I met this guy Nathan on my first week of college, we dated for like 4 years. He moved here for me when I got accepted by the BAU." I had to stop myself from delving into the detail. It was a long time ago now but it still hurt. "Long story short, the hours were demanding and they got in the way more than I would've liked. We ended up splitting a couple months after I got the job." I tried to play it off like it wasn't one of the more devastating things to happen in my life. But something told me he’d registered that, so he didn't push.

His energy picks up and he looks at me with a grin, but there's something a little sinister behind it. "I've got a more fun question for you." he leans in closer to me, "Y/N, when was the last time you got laid?" I just looked at him in shock.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, I can go first if you really need me to?" his voice didn't waver,

"Fuck you Reid, I know when it was!" I snapped back at him. I did have to think back a little farther than I'd like to pull up the memory.

"Met this guy in a bar when I was out with Pen one night, we went back to his place and hooked up." I say as deadpan as I can make it.

"Well that's not very exciting is it?" he jokes, "Did you at least cum that time?" I know he's just trying to rile me up, but I answer anyway.

"As a matter of fact I did" I earn back a little of my confidence.

"I'm so happy for you, but you did manage to avoid my initial question" fuck "when was this exciting night of yours Y/N?" he probes, like I really, really wished he wouldn't. I could lie, but I'm sure he'd be able to tell. I cringe before I can say it.

"About 8 months ago" I mutter, just low enough for him to hear.

"Sorry, did you just say 8 months ago?" He nearly shouts in disbelief, he seems to find it funny.

"Hey fuck you Spencer!" I go on the defensive, "When was the last time you even got laid?"

"Like two and half weeks ago" he says, confident, and still laughing, "Wait wait, when was the last time you got yourself off? I know you're not waiting 8 months!" he giggles and I think I could kill him. I know I kept giving him outs but was it too late for me to just get up and leave?

"I'm not doing this with you if you're just gonna make fun of me Reid, I get enough of that at work" I get out, my voice is serious but I'm trying to hide how awkward all of this is making me feel, and I don't know that I'm doing a very good job.

I can tell that's gotten to him, he relaxes and eases up on the giggling. "Look okay wait Y/N. I'll stop, I'm not actually trying to make fun of you. I was being serious, I think stuff like this is important if we're gonna have to be comfortable around each other enough to seem like a real couple. Plus, it'll just help break the ice?" he shrugs. "But you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

I soften, because I agree, even thought I hate that he's right. "Fine" I collect my thoughts, "2 nights ago I'm pretty sure." I regret it almost instantly, but breaking the ice is supposed to feel awkward.

"Same here actually," he chuckles, "what'd you do?" I'm so startled by the question I almost forget how to answer.

"I, uh, my, my vibrator? I just felt like uh, I watched some..." I still can't force out a whole sentence. It's not like I was always awkward about sex or anything, I could talk to Garcia, or honestly probably any of the other team members about it. But with Spencer it didn't feel as comfortable. He still sat calmly, smiling just a little.

"Same here, 2 nights back, but with my hands I guess. I wonder if we were doing it at the same time?" he mutters the last part gently and my head goes a bit fuzzy. My eyes drift away from his face and settle on his hands, the mug he's holding looks so tiny with his fingers wrapped around it, I wondered how they'd look wrapped around my-

"Okay I think that's enough for one night, don't you think?" I jump up off the sofa and turn, mostly so that he doesn't catch the blush thats creeping from my neck up to my cheeks. And because I don't know what I'll say, or regret saying, if this conversations continues on its current trajectory.

"Sure," he says, standing up next to me, and I want to move further away instantly, "you're probably right, and it's getting a little late now anyway" he glances at his watch. Ushering me back towards his front door and opening it up. Before I can walk out he lightly touches my shoulder to turn me back to face him, and I wonder if he can feel the heat radiating from every part of me.

"So are you free next Friday after work?" he asks, and I'm so flustered I almost forget why, I just nod. "Perfect, how about we come here again and we can dive into preparing? You could also make a start on getting these onto a hard drive?" he gestures to the antique looking hardbacks adorning the shelves.

'Sounds great!" I perk up, feigning enthusiasm, "See you then!"

"Well, see you Monday morning actually Y/N" he smirks as I walk out the door. Fuck, he was right.

I really hadn't thought this through.

——

The weekend was a bit of a blur. I decided to try and put some useful information into a document for Spencer. It felt strange to try and condense my life into as few pages as possible. I knew Reid had an eidetic memory, and nothing would necessarily overwhelm him. But I also knew that he was someone that the team relied on to fill in a lot of the gaps in the rest of the our knowledge. So I felt bad about dumping a load of information on him, especially considering it was a favor he was doing for me.

I'd complied the majority of my life into a 15 page document and printed it out. Hopefully that would address most of what my family could guerrilla attack him with. There was also something unsettling about the imbalance. I was going to give him so many of the intricate details of my life in a little file, whereas all I really knew about Spencer was what I'd taken it upon myself to learn about him throughout the past few years.

I'd read all of his work while I was in college, given how he was the gold standard of getting into the BAU at a young age, I wanted to know who this guy was. I think I'd pictured something different. And I couldn't deny there was something enticing about finally getting to know him after all of these years of working together. Maybe this could actually be fun, or interesting at least.

----

I arrived early on Monday morning. I thought I was first into the office as usual but Garcia was sitting in my desk chair waiting for me. The second she saw me walk in she tensed, she must've known we were the only people in this early.

"What happened! You've been avoiding me all weekend?" she asked, and she was right. I'd drafted enough texts to her, trying to explain what the plan was, mostly without wanting to admit that she was right. Maybe I was stubborn.

"Alright okay, I drove Reid home." I admitted, dropping my bag by my desk. She rolls her eyes at me, dramatic as always.

"Well I knew that already Y/N damn! What happened next?"

"Fine, we went into his apartment and talked for a while. Trying to sort out the details, get a handle on things I guess?" I said, unsure of how much I should actually give away about our conversation.

"What things!?" She shouts, standing up from my desk,

"I don't know Pen, like logistics and stuff, I still haven't decided how I feel about that little stunt you pulled on Friday night!" I let my frustration get the better of me, and maybe that's why I haven't talked to her. It could also be because I know she's able to read me like a book and I'm not even sure how I feel about this whole situation.

"I call bullshit." She counters, "I know you were relived as hell when I sorted that whole thing out. You would've had anxiety tummy all weekend if I hadn't called Spencer!" I just go silent, she was right. I'd gotten so caught up in the whole, 'how to have a fake boyfriend' that I'd almost forgotten about how stressed I was about Spencer hearing my call in the first place.

"Okay, shit" I sigh. "Maybe you were right Pen. We're actually meeting up again this Friday after work to make a plan for the next while, so I guess that's progress?" I shrug, trying to play it off like this whole situation doesn't make my stomach flip.

"Ohhhhh! So like a date?" She probes, her enthusiasm rising drastically.

"Oh my God Pen no! Like an appointment at best" I diffuse the situation

"Ugh that's no fun" she says, not even trying to disguise her disappointment.

As if on cue Dr. Reid walks through the double doors into the bullpen. Both Garcia and I wave, overall awkwardly, but making an attempt pretend like things were completely normal and like nothing had changed since the last time we were all in the office together.

Penelope heads to her office as the bullpen starts to fill up quickly. Less than an hour later though Garcia's back at my desk and there's a new case that needs the teams attention in Boston. I follow her into the conference room and wait for the rest of the team to join. Spencer follows a moment later with 2 cups of coffee in his hands. I can see my mug in his hand and my automatic response is that he's messing with me. But he places my mug in front of me in the circular table before taking the seat next to me, listening to Garcia's briefing. I don't know if he's ever sat next to me in this conference room, at least not by choice.

I barely had any time to finish my coffee before I have to say goodbye to Garcia and hop on the jet to Boston.

----

The case was grueling. More so than usual. It was wrapped up late on Thursday night and the team decided to fly back home first thing on Friday morning. I was exhausted. Even if there was enough time to get sleep each night it wasn't like I got any. Whenever a case got on top of me like this it made it hard to rest, or get it off my mind at all until it was wrapped up. So even though it was over, that didn't mean I wasn't exhausted.

Hotch gave the team the rest of the day off, given that we have until submit our paperwork by Monday. I wasn't sure if Spencer's invitation from the following week still stood. I didn't want to ask, partly because I was so tired, but also because I was scared. I wasn't about to show up at his house in an effort to have a heart to heart, or hand him a condensed version of my life story on a manilla envelope if he was as drained as I was.

Standing by my desk I packed up everything I'd need to get my paperwork done over the weekend, I was just about finished when Spencer snuck up behind me, perching himself on the edge of my desk. "So, you almost ready to go?" he asks, like it's the most obvious question in the world. I couldn't really hide my surprise.

"Oh yeah. That's fine, I mean, if you're still cool with that?" I ask, and I hate how flustered I sound, like he makes me nervous.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" He chuckles, standing up straight.

"Cool, gimme a sec and I'll be good to go."

I pack up the rest of my stuff quickly and we make our way out. There's something that feels a little eerie about the two of us being in an elevator together alone again. It was a different kind of awkward to how it felt a week before hand. It almost felt like a kind of tension rather than a hatred or a rivalry. Either way we rode down in silence.

Once we got to the basement Spencer walks out of the elevator and walks straight to my car without having to ask. I unlock it and he hops into the passenger seat. Like this is a natural interaction. Something we do all the time. And I don't hate it as much as I thought I would.

"So," he says, buckling up his seat belt and breaking the silence, "do you know how to get to my place from here or do you need directions again?"

"Well I've got to turn on the engine first" I tease, hoping he picks up on the reference to our last car ride, he chuckles like he does.

"Are you hungry?" he asks

"Starving."

The delivery guy get's to Spencer's apartment at almost the same time we do.

---

Once the food's been demolished the two of us finally sit on his sofa, the same sides as the week before. "So, shall we get back into this?" He asks, sitting forward slightly to pull a notebook out of his satchel on the floor. It's small and lavender, and it's got a pen clipped into the spine. He cracks it open and flips to a specific page.

"Sorry, what's that?" I ask, pointing to the book, he looks confused,

"They're my notes?" he says, like it should be obvious

"Your notes?" I ask,

"My notes on you." he smirks, again like I'm silly for even asking.

He had notes on me? He had a whole notebook on me? What was even in that thing?

"You've got notes on me?" I ask, my hands reaching out to grab it, but he retreats faster than I can catch him. "What have you got in there that's so serious?"

"Nothing." and his tone's a bit too stern and I don't really want to push it when he's being so uncharacteristically nice to me.

"I've actually got this ready for you" I pull the file out of my own bag and toss it to him. "I'm not sure exactly what you need to know but that should be the majority of it at least."

He opens it up and glances over the the pages. It takes him all of 2 minutes to get through the whole thing. It feels unsettling that he's taking in a boiled down version of my life while I'm just sitting on the opposite side of the sofa. Trying to avoid the attention I pipe up.

"Um, hey, maybe it would be a good time for you to show me where to make a start digitizing your books over here?" I stand up and make my way to the shelf. He jumps up off the sofa and walks toward me, visibly excited.

"That's actually a great idea, I thought that the theses from my degrees could be a good place to start, since I'm pretty sure they're not backed up anywhere." he guides me to a section of the book case by the window. There's a series of leather bound hardbacks, the same gold font embossed on the spines. I recognize all of them, pulling out the first one.

"This is my favorite" I say without thinking about it and he does a double take, clearly thrown.

"You've, uh, you read my work?" he asks, completely puzzled. I'm sort of proud that I've managed to make him this awkward, and I nod.

"Mmhm, back before I joined the BAU actually. Before I really knew you" I regret saying the last part, it comes out a little meaner than I really wanted it to so I back track. "Spencer, I read all of your work while I was in college, you were like the gold standard. I don't think I slept more than 2 hours a night throughout my PHD because I was just trying to get as much done as you." and his face softens at the admission. But it takes him a moment before he responds. Leaving the two of us in silence a little too long.

"I had no idea" is all he says.

"I think this one was best" I say propping up the one in my hand, "you get a bit cockier as you move on” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "but I'll start with all of these I guess" I grab the matching books and stack them in my arms. Walking over to his desk and setting up. Glancing at the clock it was only 7pm so I decided to just make a start.

Spencer didn't contest. Letting me just get settled at his desk, I pull out my laptop and begin work on transcribing the first volume. After a few minutes he silently places a cup of tea down beside me and goes to sit on the sofa. The time rolls in quickly after that, each time I look up at Spencer he's carefully combing through the file I'd given him. Re-reading it and making little markings in his lavender notebook. I'm not really sure what I put in there that was worth making a note on but clearly he was reading between the lines on some things. That little notebook was like a profile of me.

When he seemed like he'd finished writing he pulls out his phone, scrolling through it aimlessly like I'd never seen him do before. It made him look so normal. His eyebrows knit together as he's looking at something on his screen and he stands up. Making his way over to me at the desk and shows me what he was looking at.

"Who's this?" he asks, "This guy you're with?"

I recognize the photo instantly. It's from a few years earlier, Nathan and I on the beach, my head resting on his chest. He'd taken it while we were on vacation celebrating our anniversary. That was about a month before I got into the BAU, I had no idea that was going to be our last anniversary. I gulp down the emotions that it stirs. I'm mostly over the whole thing by now, but looking at old photos like that, photos of happier times, it can still sting.

"That's uh, the boyfriend I was telling you about last week. Nathan, we broke up not long after I joined the BAU?" he nods, but he's smart, and I kind of figure he already knew that.

"Ah alright" he takes out the hardback and jots another note down. Maybe he's trying to get a read on me.

"What are you doing?" I gesture to the phone,

"It's research, do you not think that if you and I were really dating that stalking your social media profiles would be on my agenda?" he's smug, and he's right. But I guess I just didn't expect it from him.

"Well that's not really fair now is it? I can't reciprocate, you've got no social media presence whatsoever!" he finds that funny, letting out a deep chuckle and tucking his phone away in his back pocket.

"Maybe so, but that imbalance is hardly my fault. Besides, you've read all my dissertations apparently..."

"Bastard" I joke, slamming my laptop shut and throwing a pen from his desk at him so that it lightly bounces off the top of his head.

"Hey, there's no need for violence Y/N!" he rubs the spot beneath his curls, "Maybe it's time you took a break actually?" he says, sitting himself back down on the sofa.

I was reluctant to admit it but he was right. My eyes were starting to go a little fuzzy after looking at the screen for so long. I stand up and stretch my arms out above my head, feeling my spine stretch out after sitting for so long, letting out a low groan. Spencer waves me over to the sofa and I join him.

"How about we go back to basics?" Spencer asks with a small grin, and I can't help but let out a long sigh.

"I thought I was taking a break, no more questions" he just laughs at me,

"Relax, you're not that interesting, it's just a simple question." he states, and I'm not sure if I'm supposed to find it funny or offensive

"Ugh, fine, shoot"

"Well, actually it's two questions" he corrects, "what's your favorite movie, and what's your favorite snack?"

I'm confused mostly by the fact that it actually is a simple question, I was expecting something a lot more contentious, but also because he looks eager to know the answer.

"I'm not really sure what my favorite movie is to be honest, one of them is Night of the Living Dead?"

He nods to himself, and jots it down in the notebook again, "Alright, I can make that work" he stands up off the sofa before turning back to me, "and snack?"

"Peanut butter cups I guess?" I respond and he grins ear to ear, which is a completely new sight, and I like it way more than I thought I would.

"Perfect, gimme 2 minutes!" he leaves the living room and wanders towards the kitchen.

Spencer returns a few minutes later with a DVD, a packet of peanut butter cups , and a thick knitted blanket gathered in his arms. He drapes the blanket over me and gently places the peanut butter cups on top of it before popping the DVD into the player and sitting down beside me. I'm not really sure how to process any of the situation. Am I about to watch a movie on Spencer Reid's sofa? Sitting next to Spencer Reid?

"I... I, uh, thought you were just asking for your notes?" I ask, pointing at the notebook resting in his lap. He picks it up and throws it onto the coffee table.

"Sometimes I find experience is the best teacher, don't you?" he asks before pressing play, “And besides, it should keep you quiet for a whole 96 minutes” of course.

I can only nod in agreement, I'm not really sure what I'll say if I try to speak. I get myself cosy under the warm blanket and we watch the movie in near silence.

Once the credits roll Spencer finally speaks up, "I actually went to see a screening of this last month downtown, there was this little old horror movie fest-" I cut him off without really realizing, I'm just strangely excited that we've genuinely got something in common.

"Holy shit, I was there!" I say, more enthusiastic than the situation calls for.

He laughs at my excitement, "Well, I guess we have more overlap than I thought, that should probably help with the whole charade." he stretches his arms up over his head and let's out a small, gentle yawn. I'd been enjoying myself more than I thought I would, or would ever tell Spencer, that I'd almost forgotten that we'd both been on a case for almost every waking moment of the past week. I really should feel a lot more drained than I do.

I was just after midnight when I suggested that I head back home. I offered to take some of the books home to work on throughout the weekend but Spencer insisted that I just work on them whenever I came over again. I sort of felt like I should thank him for the evening when I was on my way out the door, or give him a quick hug, no that felt wrong. In the end all I could really muster was a lousy, "goodnight" and a meek wave on my way out the door before I drove home. And couldn't get to sleep.

— —

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bloody-bee-tea · 4 years ago

Text

Not the end of the world

Previous part

Jiang Cheng feels numb when he sees the percentage on his test, though he knew to expect this already when his teacher handed him the paper.

Her looks spoke volume and the glaring red 61% is not as surprising as it should have been.

But still. Jiang Cheng’s hand shake as he quickly puts the test away, hoping that no one else saw that he barely—just barely—passed something that seems to be so very easy for everyone else in class but of course Wei Wuxian notices that something is wrong.

Ever since he learned that Jiang Cheng is no longer living at home, he has been a lot more attentive; usually, Jiang Cheng would love that, but right now he would give anything to have his oblivious brother back.

“What’s wrong?” Wei Wuxian asks as he sits down next to Jiang Cheng, Lan Wangji in tow like always these days and Jiang Cheng briefly debates if he’d get away with just getting up and sprinting off.

Probably not.

“Nothing,” he still tries, even though Wei Wuxian’s look already tells him just how much he believes him and then Wei Wuxian is reaching for his bag.

“Don’t,” Jiang Cheng rushes out, just barely managing to catch Wei Wuxian’s hands before they can get to the test but Wei Wuxian only raises an expectant eyebrow at him.

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?�� he asks again and Jiang Cheng works his jaw, because he really, truly doesn’t want to tell him.

“You passed,” Lan Wangji says, as if that is the most important thing and Jiang Cheng glares at him until Wei Wuxian moves between them.

“A-Cheng, did you pass or not?” he asks and Jiang Cheng deflates.

“I did,” he whispers, though he knows it will still be a problem.

He doesn’t know how Lan Qiren reacts to bad grades, didn’t have to experience that yet, and he can’t say that he’s looking forward to changing that.

“He won’t be mad,” Wei Wuxian tries. “Really, what is the worst that could happen? What is the worst that Madam Yu ever did?” Wei Wuxian asks and Jiang Cheng flinches.

“A-Cheng?” he more carefully asks when he sees Jiang Cheng’s reaction and Jiang Cheng huffs out a bitter laugh.

“You wouldn’t know,” he mutters. “You always brought perfect grades home. Mother resented you for that, but it wasn’t something she could scold you over, so instead she turned to me when my grades weren’t as good,” he tells them, without meeting their eyes.

“You mostly weren’t there when I brought back bad grades, because you were busy celebrating your good ones,” Jiang Cheng goes on. “I only stayed to find out her reaction once,” Jiang Cheng admits and shudders with the memory, desperate to push it back into the farthest corner of his mind again.

“Usually, I would just put the test on the table and then—not be there.”

“For how long?” Wei Wuxian wants to know and just by the tone of his voice it’s clear that he’s already expecting the worst.

Jiang Cheng shrugs and tries to be as nonchalant about this as he can be, but it’s hard, especially with Wei Wuxian’s desperate and Lan Wangji’s searching gazes on him.

“For as long as necessary,” Jiang Cheng finally admits. “I’d stay with Huaisang, sometimes, when he was available.”

“And the other times?” Wei Wuxian asks.

“Well, the university’s library is partially open at all times,” Jiang Cheng admits. “And remember how mother insisted on me going to a gym? I chose one that’s also open during the night. It worked out somehow. No one in the library cared if I fell asleep there and no one in the gym bat an eye when I went there early in the morning to shower.”

Jiang Cheng knows that it’s only thanks to his grumpy face that no one dared to ask any questions; otherwise, people would have probably taken note of an underage boy out and about in places where he really shouldn’t be alone in the night.

“A-Cheng,” Wei Wuxian breathes out and he sounds close to tears. “I am so sorry!”

Yeah, it’s a little late for that, Jiang Cheng thinks bitterly, but then he reminds himself that Wei Wuxian is only a few months older than him and really shouldn’t have to deal with any of this shit either.

It sucks that it all fell on Jiang Cheng, but it’s not really Wei Wuxian’s fault that he didn’t pay enough attention to Jiang Cheng to notice this.

At least like this one of them had a somewhat happy and relaxing childhood with some good memories.

“It’s done now,” Jiang Cheng awkwardly gives back when he sees tears in Wei Wuxian’s eyes.

He says it easily, but deep inside there’s a part of himself that’s shaking in fear.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know how Lan Qiren will react to a grade like this. He was helpful when Jiang Cheng struggled with his homework a few weeks back, but homework and a test are two different things, Jiang Cheng knows that very well.

Lan Qiren’s helpful nature then is no indicator of how he will react to the glaring red mark on his test.

“Brother said you looked familiar,” Lan Wangji suddenly says and effectively jolts Jiang Cheng out of his thoughts.

“What?”

“After the first dinner. Brother said you looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t place you. He probably saw you in the library.”

“It’s possible,” Jiang Cheng says, his face burning with shame at the realization that Lan Xichen saw him effectively being homeless and it’s yet another thought he simply pushes away.

Lan Xichen doesn’t know about that after all; Jiang Cheng has other things to worry about than this.

“But you’re not going there, right?” Wei Wuxian suddenly asks and Jiang Cheng has to admit that it’s a tempting idea.

He knows Lan Qiren works late today, so it would be easy to simply slip into his house, put the test on the table and then simply not be there when he comes home.

It’s a nice thought, but absolutely useless, too.

“What good would it do?” Jiang Cheng scoffs out. “Lan Qiren is the headmaster. He probably already knows about my result.”

A chill goes down Jiang Cheng’s back when he realizes that Lan Qiren probably knew about the almost failed test before Jiang Cheng himself and Jiang Cheng can’t deny that it makes him sick with worry.

“Uncle will not be mad,” Lan Wangji tells him with a firm nod.

Jiang Cheng is just about to relax, because if someone has to know this then it’s Lan Wangji, right, but then he goes on.

“He will be disappointed.”

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng breathes out, going cold all over.

Disappointed is always so much worse than mad.

“I see,” he whispers and quickly gathers his things. “Well, I better get going then. If dinner is not ready by the time he’s home, he’ll find even more reason to be disappointed.”

There’s a rushing in his ears that Jiang Cheng doesn’t like at all, but at least it prevents him from hearing whatever it is that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji say after this.

Nothing can make this better after all, and in the end, Jiang Cheng really only has himself to blame. Again.

~*~*~ Jiang Cheng is still in the middle of preparing dinner for this evening when he hears the door. He freezes for long enough that he almost hurts himself but by the time Lan Qiren steps into the kitchen he mostly has himself back under control.

“I’m sorry dinner is not done,” Jiang Cheng says, keeping his eyes on the food instead of turning around to Lan Qiren and Jiang Cheng knows that it’s a stupid thing to do.

It will tip Lan Qiren off to the fact that something is not right, because this is not how Jiang Cheng usually greets him, but Jiang Cheng can’t help himself.

In situations like these he still—foolishly, stupidly—operates on the believe that if he can’t see Lan Qiren or how mad he is then it won’t be so bad.

“Wanyin,” Lan Qiren says and Jiang Cheng flinches at his serious tone. “What’s wrong?” Lan Qiren asks and Jiang Cheng huffs out a laugh.

He never knew he was that easy to read, but it’s also quite cruel of Lan Qiren to make him say it himself when Lan Qiren so very clearly already knows what’s wrong.

But before Jiang Cheng can put any of that into words—or simply admit to his failure, like he knows he truly should—the doorbell rings.

“Are you expecting someone?” Lan Qiren asks him, but when Jiang Cheng shakes his head, he simply leaves to open the door.

“Xichen, what are you doing here? Did something happen?” Jiang Cheng hears Lan Qiren ask and he can’t quite make out Lan Xichen’s answer, but he must have asked after him, because Lan Qiren leads him into the kitchen a moment later.

“Wanyin,” Lan Xichen greets him warmly, but Jiang Cheng can only nod at him.

He didn’t expect to disappoint two people this evening.

“What’s going on here?” Lan Qiren demands to know and Lan Xichen sighs.

“Wangji called me, and said that he made a mistake,” Lan Xichen says.

Jiang Cheng finds that hard to believe because he doesn’t know Lan Wangji to make any mistakes but then Lan Xichen steps up next to him and gently turns him away from the stove.

“You did not yet talk with uncle,” he says and Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“What mistake did Wangji made that affects Wanyin?” Lan Qiren wants to know and he sounds tired.

Jiang Cheng feels bad all of a sudden, because Lan Qiren worked long hours today and he shouldn’t have to deal with this at home now. He should get to relax however he wishes and not have to be disappointed with the kid he practically picked up on the streets.

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng gets out and he hunches in on himself before Lan Qiren can even open his mouth. “I almost failed a test.”

“Almost?” Lan Qiren asks and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know how to feel about the fact that Lan Qiren apparently doesn’t yet know about his grade.

Jiang Cheng can’t decide if that makes it better or worse.

“Wanyin, there’s nothing to worry about,” Lan Xichen suddenly says lowly and it’s only then that Jiang Cheng realizes that he’s shaking all over.

“I’m so sorry,” he chokes out but when he wants to run away, wants to leave this horrible situation, Lan Xichen won’t let him.

“Wangji didn’t mean he will be disappointed in you,” Lan Xichen suddenly says and it’s surprising enough that it freezes Jiang Cheng where he stands.

“What?” he breathes out and now it’s Lan Qiren who sighs.

“What happened? Can someone please tell me what is going on here?”

“I only got 61% on my test,” Jiang Cheng whispers when Lan Xichen gives him an encouraging nudge.

“So you passed,” Lan Qiren says and he doesn’t sound angry or disappointed and it’s confusing enough that Jiang Cheng dares to look at him.

“Barely,” Jiang Cheng says, but Lan Qiren should know that, he has to know that, he’s the headmaster after all, but Lan Qiren seems as confused as before.

“Will it be alright if I explain?” Lan Xichen asks and Jiang Cheng gives himself a moment to feel betrayed that either Lan Wangji or Wei Wuxian told him everything, before he gives in to the gratefulness that he doesn’t have to say anything at all, so he nods.

“Wanyin was afraid of your reaction to this grade,” Lan Xichen says as he guides Jiang Cheng over to sit down at the table. “It seems barely passing was not something his mother liked to see. As far as I understood it he was afraid you’ll be mad. Wangji told him that you wouldn’t be mad, but disappointed without further explaining anything to Wanyin.”

“What’s there to explain?” Jiang Cheng mutters because he damn well understands the concept of disappointing a parental figure.

One could almost say that it’s his most defining character trait.

“That uncle won’t be disappointed with you,” Lan Xichen explains, “but with your teacher or the teaching material. Or maybe even the fact that he didn’t realize that you were struggling.”

“Wanyin,” Lan Qiren now speaks up and he takes a seat at the table as well.

The table that should be set with dinner, Jiang Cheng realizes with a start, but when he’s about to get up, Lan Xichen puts his hand to his shoulder and pushes him back down again.

“I got it,” he says and then turns away to tend to dinner, leaving Jiang Cheng and Lan Qiren alone at the table.

Jiang Cheng can’t say that he likes it.

“Wanyin,” Lan Qiren says again, and Jiang Cheng jerks.

“I’m sorry. I am studying, I promise, it’s just—I’m too stupid to understand that concept, you saw me struggling with the homework before, and I’m sorry even your help wasn’t enough, I’ll study more, there’s still—I can—” Jiang Cheng rushes out but he only stops to take a breath when Lan Qiren puts a hand to his arm.

“Breathe,” he says and Jiang Cheng sucks in breath after breath until he doesn’t feel like he’s drowning anymore.

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng whispers again and by now he doesn’t even know what he’s saying sorry for.

There’s just too much to choose from.

“Don’t be,” Lan Qiren gently tells him but he also takes his hand back and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to do with those mixed signals.

“I’ll work harder, I promise,” Jiang Cheng says, more to the table than to Lan Qiren but he still sees how Lan Qiren shakes his head.

“You’re already working so hard. It’s not your fault if you can’t grasp a concept. You can’t excel in everything; Huaisang for example is brilliant in poetry and the arts but he couldn’t solve a math problem to safe his life. It’s okay if you struggle with this. It’s normal,” Lan Qiren says and he sounds stilted, like he isn’t sure at all what the right thing to say here is.

“And I am not disappointed in you. I know you’re trying your best and that’s all I can ask of you. Xichen is right. I’m mostly disappointed in myself for not noticing that you required more help in that area. We can go over it together again if you’d like,” Lan Qiren offers and Jiang Cheng realizes that this must be hard for him as well.

Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen probably weren’t students who failed a lot; it’s likely that Lan Qiren has no clue how to deal with a situation like this.

“If you’d like, I could help,” Lan Xichen suddenly says. “I’m studying to be a teacher; I should probably get a bit of practical experience with a student, if we’re being honest,” he says with a sheepish smile but Jiang Cheng understands it for the easy way out that it is.

He would probably refuse knowing that Lan Xichen would take precious time out of his schedule to help him when Jiang Cheng really should be able to grasp this stupid concept like all of his classmates did.

But like this is sounds like he’d be doing Lan Xichen a favour and it’s much harder to say no to that.

“I see what you’re doing there,” Jiang Cheng mutters and the sheepish smile on Lan Xichen’s face only gets bigger.

“Don’t see it. Accept his help. It’s something that has to be learned as well,” Lan Qiren chimes in and Jiang Cheng jerks with his words.

It’s not like a lot of people offered him help before; there really hasn’t been any opportunity for him to learn this but Jiang Cheng swallows his angry words down.

“Alright,” he whispers.

“And my offer still stands as well,” Lan Qiren says, and pats his arm again. “We can go over it again, together.”

“Okay,” Jiang Cheng agrees and he doesn’t know what to do with all of this confused, panicked anticipation inside of him.

This didn’t turn out like anything he expected and it leaves him floundering.

“There really is no need to be sorry about an almost failed test,” Lan Qiren says again as he gets up. “You passed. And even if you did not, one failed test is not going to ruin your future. Xichen failed a test in chemistry once and Wangji in philosophy. Philosophy, can you even imagine?” Lan Qiren asks him, clearly aiming for a lighter mood, and he succeeds too because it startles a laugh out of Jiang Cheng.

“I can’t speak for Wangji, but chemistry is entirely evil and doesn’t make sense at all,” Lan Xichen complaints clearly not at all too bothered by the fact that he failed something once and going by the small smile playing around Lan Qiren’s mouth he doesn’t mind it much either.

That, more than anything, proves to Jiang Cheng that maybe a failed test doesn’t have to be the end of the world for him.

Jiang Cheng watches as Lan Qiren shoos Lan Xichen away from the oven, clearly intent on taking over preparations himself and Jiang Cheng is just about to get up to help him when Lan Xichen sits down next to him and leans in close.

“Wangji also told me what else you said. About staying elsewhere,” Lan Xichen mutters and Jiang Cheng goes cold as his eyes dart over to Lan Qiren.

“I do not want to see you in the library again,” Lan Xichen whispers and then puts a piece of paper in Jiang Cheng’s hands. “This is my and Wangji’s address. We keep a spare key hidden in the third red pot on the left side of the house. If you ever feel like you can’t go home, then you come to us.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes start to burn and he clutches the paper close.

“Okay,” he chokes out, desperately trying not to let the tears fall but he loses that fight when Lan Xichen pulls him into a hug.

“It’s alright now, Wanyin. We’re your family now, there’s no need to be afraid anymore,” Lan Xichen whispers into his hair and Jiang Cheng clutches at his shirt, frantically trying to keep even a last shred of composure.

He fails that spectacularly when Lan Qiren joins in with a hand to Jiang Cheng’s shoulder and squeezes lightly before he says “Family is not something to be afraid of, Wanyin. It’s something to draw strength from.”

Jiang Cheng almost breaks down at that, but he also nods as best as he can.

“I’m trying,” he sobs out and Lan Qiren pats his shoulder.

“No. You’re learning. That’s much more important,” he says and then leaves Jiang Cheng to cry into Lan Xichen’s shoulder again.

A tiny part of Jiang Cheng is aware that he should be embarrassed over this, but the bigger part just figures that if they are family, surely this should be okay.

And going by how patiently Lan Xichen keeps holding him until Jiang Cheng can compose himself again, and how Lan Qiren makes just enough noise to let Jiang Cheng know that he’s still there as well, it must be okay.

And that is all the reassurance Jiang Cheng needs right now.

Next part!

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #jiang cheng #lan qiren #lan xichen #found family #modern au #bad parenting #trust issues #hurt/comfort

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authenticcadence18 · 3 years ago

Text

“Ice Cream and Dances Pt. 2: Electric Boogaloo” Ch. 2

…

HELLO I AM POSTING A FIC UPDATE!!!!!!!! :DD

(Also a disclaimer! This fic uses the phrase “more than friends” a lot, and I wrote the first chapter before I realized that phrase can imply that friendships are lesser than romantic relationships. I want to make it clear that I do not see romantic relationships as inherently more valuable than friendships. Friendship is equally as important!!!! In the context of Phineas and Isabella, starting a romantic relationship would literally be them becoming “more than friends” because they would then be romantic partners AND friends. So, when I use that phrase in this fic moving forward, this is the meaning I’m choosing to interpret it as!)

…

“Ice Cream and Dances” by FrsdGirl

AO3

Previous Chapter

…

Isabella did her best to focus on inhaling and exhaling as Phineas led her back onto the dance floor.

“THIS IS A FRIEND THING.”

Once they found an empty spot, Phineas let go of Isabella’s hand and turned to face her, eyes wide and face flushed and GOODNESS HE LOOKED CUTE—

“HYPOTHETICAL. PLATONIC.”

Somehow, Isabella’s hands found their way to Phineas’s shoulders, though she wasn’t consciously aware of it until she felt him gently place his hands on her waist and oh goodness, friend thing or not, Phineas still wanted to dance with her and be close to her even though they’d already danced earlier aND—

“NO. STOP IT. KEEP IT TOGETHER, GARCIA-SHAPIRO.”

For about half a minute, they swayed platonically (or, well, somewhat platonically), neither saying a word.

Isabella just kept on focusing on breathing, on making sure she didn’t lean too close to Phineas, on keeping the desire to admit she’d actually love to be here with him on a real date at bay.

(She couldn’t have known Phineas was focusing on very similar things.)

Sure, she’d been nervous when they danced like this earlier. But those nerves were nothing compared to the nerves she was experiencing now because NOW, she had much more to worry about.

This was still strictly a friend thing, but it was also now a hypothetical more-than-friends-who-were-on-a-date thing. Except it WASN’T actually hypothetical in Isabella’s case, and she couldn’t help but hope that it might be more than hypothetical for Phineas as well but NO, she couldn’t give in to that hope, that was dangerous, so she needed to maintain a good balance between honesty and nonchalance about all this but that was difficult to do when he was so close and holding her and good grief , why’d she ever taken Buford up on his dare, and—

“Isabella? Are you okay?”

Isabella started and blinked, clearing her head of myriad worries with a shake to find Phineas staring at her with concern in his eyes.

“You kinda spaced out there for a second…” he continued. “And you looked a little worried. Is something wrong? Would you rather do something else?”

“NO!!!!!” Isabella shot back. A few nearby couples darted their heads in their direction, and she winced (the LAST thing she wanted to do was draw more attention to her and Phineas after their “grand entrance”).

“I...I just mean… I’m fine. Really.” She did her best to muster a smile for Phineas’s sake. “Just got lost in thought for a bit, you know?”

Phineas grinned, seemingly relieved to know that she was okay (though that could’ve just been Isabella reading into things). “Been there, done that!” he said.

Isabella chuckled a little, the image of Phineas hunched over his phone flickering in her memory. “I bet! You looked pretty lost in thought while Buford and I were dancing earlier. Who were you texting? Or were you testing out a new app?”

She felt a little more at ease now that she was talking with Phineas (as opposed to drowning in her own thoughts.)

“Huh??” Phineas blinked and bit his lip, shoulders briefly tensing up beneath Isabella’s hands. “...UH, I was just...texting Candace!”

“Really? It must have been an intense conversation, you looked so focused. Did she ask you for advice on a case assignment or something?”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t that… I just….uh” Phineas stared at her for a second and then up at the sky before continuing, “...I talk with her a lot these days. She’s got good advice.”

Isabella smiled and nodded in agreement in response.

(Perhaps she was a little curious to know what exactly Phineas had been discussing with Candace. But she knew he’d tell her if he wanted to, and she didn’t want to press him in case he didn’t.)

In the meantime, she could change the subject.

“So...have you been brainstorming any new projects lately?” she asked. “Other than the Stargazer 3000 of course, though if you want to talk about that I’m all ears!”

Phineas’s eyes practically ignited with excitement, making something flutter and glow in Isabella’s chest.

“Yeah!!!” he exclaimed. “Yesterday Ferb and I started experimenting with levitating carpets, like we did when we were kids! We want to see if we can replicate the effects over a smaller surface. But the technology isn’t quite ready yet…..”

…

“And THAT’S how we plan to modify our pre-existing anti-gravity quantum state lift disk technology to function effectively over a smaller surface area!! We’re planning on finishing up a prototype tomorrow and using it for a project.”

“Cool!! Can I come over and help out?”

“Of course! You never have to ask to come over, Isabella. I’ll—er, we’ll always be glad to have you around.”

“Thanks!”

Sometimes, it was easy to take living across the street from Phineas for granted. Because of that, Isabella was used to his boundless creativity and ideas, used to his uncanny ability to make the impossible possible...but she never wanted to lose sight of how extraordinary just being able to be used to those things was.

Moments like this reminded her that Phineas was brilliant .

And handsome.

….brilliantly handsome.

She cracked a smile at that last thought.

Phineas, fortunately, didn’t ask why she was smiling. He just smiled back...and then tilted his head, his expression morphing from fond to thoughtful.

“.....I just realized something,” he said. “We danced earlier.”

Isabella nodded, unsure where he was going with this.

“I guess, I just realized…. This—you know, us , dancing together—it doesn’t feel much different from how it felt before, when we were dancing but like...strictly as friends. ….uH! Not that we aren’t dancing strictly as friends right now! But...the hypothetical more-than-friends thing you were wondering about...you’d think it would make things feel more different….but if it’s us, it doesn’t. Not really.”

A blush sprawled across Isabella’s face. She’d been so wrapped up in listening to Phineas’s ideas, she’d almost forgotten about the hypothetical more-than-friends thing.

But Phineas apparently hadn’t forgotten.

“Uh—is that still a thing we’re doing?” he asked. “Pretending this is, like…a date? Or thinking about what it would be like if it were? Because I thought we were, but maybe I misunderstood, and if so that’s my bad—”

“No, you didn’t misunderstand!!!” Isabella replied quickly. “And, we can keep pretending this is a date. If you want.”

Phineas exhaled with a smile. “Cool!”

“Yup! Cool!” Isabella agreed.

Whew.

“And, you’re right,” she continued. “It doesn’t feel much different from how it did before...but it feels right. Talking with you feels better than just dancing in silence and staring at each other. I guess other couples might do that, but not us.”

“Yeah!!” Phineas let out a gentle chuckle. “I guess this means, if we were a couple, we wouldn’t act much differently from how we do now.”

“That’s what happens when you fall for your best friend, huh?” Isabella gave Phineas a knowing grin (she was basically a world-renowned expert on this subject). “Since there’s already a great foundation of friendship in place, romantic feelings can just develop naturally from what’s already there.”

….wait a second.

“….uH!!!” she choked, jerking back and clutching her hands to her chest on instinct. “Not that I’d know that personally!! Just, uh! In movies and stuff! That’s how it always goes. Yup. And we’re best friends, so! In this hypothetical scenario, we’d be best friends who fell for each other. Hypothetically.”

“Okaaayyyy time to divert the subject, Garcia-Shapiro.”

“People in movies have it easy….” she continued, trying her best to sound light and casual. “They meet and then, less than two hours later, BOOM! They’re together, true love for life!! Or...at least, they’re together until a sequel comes out and they’ve broken up offscreen just to get back together again….”

(The older Isabella got, the less patience she had for subpar romance movies and subplots.)

“Yeah….it’s a lot harder in real life...” Phineas agreed quietly. “Though, we’d be remiss if we didn’t talk about how it is hard for couples in TV shows. Like, Candace used to watch this show where the two main characters were in love but they didn’t realize it, and they kept on ALMOST confessing or getting together but didn’t actually get together until the very end. She’d get so frustrated with them, called them the ‘token will they/won’t they couple.’ There were a few steady side-couples though, Candace always used to say they made watching the show a little easier.”

He leaned in, a conspiratorial twinkle in his eye, and whispered, “She always used to compare herself and Jeremy to the main couple, but between you and me, the two of them are definitely more the ‘steady side-couple�� type.”

Isabella snickered. “ Oh yeah. They had it easy! They liked each other from the beginning, went on dates, started officially dating and then just...stayed that way.”

“If only it were always that simple….” Phineas sighed.

“If Candace and Jeremy are a steady side couple, what would that make us?” Isabella asked.

She flinched and quickly added, “uH!!! In a hypothetical sense!!!!”

Phineas blinked. “UM!!! That’s a great question!!!”

...was he blushing? Or was it a trick of the light?

“I guess, uh….we’d be the token ‘will they/won’t they’ couple?”

he rubbed the back of his neck and chucked slightly. “I mean, uh...in your hypothetical scenario, I’m not sure if we’d already be together or if this would be our first time doing something together. Together -together, I mean. On a date, you know. But, uh…….. Okay, let’s say I had feelings for you. Hypothetically. I’d have no reason to believe you returned those feelings.”

Isabella bit her lip and resisted the urge to roll her eyes into the nearest adjacent galaxy.

That was Phineas, alright. Oblivious as always.

“...BUT!!” he continued, “if you returned them without knowing about MY feelings, that would be a classic ‘will they/won’t they’ scenario. At least, according to Candace, anyway….yup….”

He suddenly seemed quite interested in staring at the grass beneath their feet.

Isabella followed his gaze and studied the ground for a bit, both to avoid pondering their hypothetical couple status any longer AND because, if Phineas was staring at the grass, it likely meant something interesting was happening down there.

...except nothing interesting was happening.

“.....okay, there’s no way the grass is interesting enough to warrant us staring at it for this long,” she mused. “You didn’t get hit with a dull and boring ray, did you?”

(She was mostly joking, but one could never be too careful in Danville.)

Phineas glanced back up at her and just stared at a moment before cracking a smile.

“Funny you should mention that….i was JUST thinking about the color beige….”

A moment passed.

And then he started to giggle. Quietly at first…and then not so quietly. His amusement was contagious, and soon Isabella was caught up in it too, the two of them grinning and laughing and as carefree as could be, all the awkwardness momentarily gone.

(The ruckus garnered some more stares, as the music playing was still pretty soft….but Isabella didn’t really care about that anymore. Having fun with Phineas was way more important than worrying about what others thought.)

Gradually, their laughter died down, with Phineas giving one final giggle and wiping a tear from his cheek before placing his hand back on Isabella’s waist, eyes shining with mirth.

Isabella gazed at him with a beaming smile.

There was just something about Phineas’s laughter, something about the way he smiled so brightly and expressed such genuine positivity so effortlessly, that had fascinated her and made her head spin since they were kids....and right now, it was hard to feel scared of expressing her true feelings for him.

(In other words, she was sooo in love with him right now.)

“You know….” she whispered with a flirtatious grin, “...if WE were dating—uh, on a date, within the parameters of the hypothetical more-than-friends thing!!!”

Good save, Garcia-Shapiro.

“...I’d have told you how handsome you look by now.”

“Huh?” Phineas blinked and glanced down at his outfit. “...Oh! Thanks! ...but, I’m not really dressed for a date….I wear this shirt at least once a week, and I haven't brushed my hair since this morning.”

“Aw, Phineas, you ALWAYS look handsome,” Isabella assured him. “No matter what. I mean, between the red hair and all your freckles and your acute nose and your SMILE, I’m not sure how anyone could NOT see how handsome you are…. And it’s not just your looks either, it’s your laugh and the way you can light up anyone and anything around you just by being you, it all makes you handsome, and……”

A bit of the happy fog in Isabella’s brain evaporated, allowing her to realize she’d been rambling to Phineas about how handsome he was for the past 20 seconds.

Oops.

“uH!!!! That is! That’s what I would say if this wasn’t a friend thing! But it is! So! Uh. You can just forget I said all that, if you want….”

She winced and clenched her eyes shut. That had been too much, she’d totally taken things too far, and now Phineas would probably be super weirded out...

Except.

One glance at Phineas revealed he wasn’t weirded out at all. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes soft, mouth slightly agape with what might have been astonishment.

He looked flustered, but in a good way.

And then...he smiled again. He smiled at her.

And it was a warm smile, a gentle smile, perhaps the most adoration-filled smile Isabella had ever seen and it was directed at her and doing funny things to her heart.

“Well….” he whispered softly, “...if this weren’t a friend thing, I’d have already told you you look as beautiful as ever…. But, since this is a friend thing and I haven’t told you yet….I’ll just tell you now. Isabella, you look as beautiful as ever.”

He grinned before continuing on in a manner similar to how Isabella had spoken a bit ago.

“I mean, between your eyes, and your hair, and the way your entire face seems to light up when you smile, and your adorable laughter, and the way you’re brave enough to say whatever’s on your mind…..I don’t think anyone else is as beautiful as you, Isabella. In every sense of the word.”

Isabella’s heart was going to pound right out of her chest. Or perhaps her knees would give out and she’d collapse right here, sprawled across the grass, running Phineas’s words and tender looks over and over again in her head for the foreseeable future.

It wouldn’t be a bad way to spend the rest of the evening.

But Phineas wasn’t done yet. He drew a hand back and then reached out for Isabella’s face...only to flinch and freeze in place.

“...uH!!” he breathed, hand still suspended in mid-air. “....if this were a date, I think I’d unconsciously reach out to brush a lock of hair behind your ear after saying all those things, just to see you better! ...would you be alright with that?”

Isabella didn’t trust herself to piece a coherent sentence together at the moment, but she knew she’d definitely be alright with that, so she nodded her head.

Phineas inhaled and tentatively reached out until his fingers were gracing Isabella’s cheek and then ever-so-gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

And once again, Isabella did her best to focus on inhaling and exhaling, on staying present in the moment…but this time, she wasn’t constantly reminding herself this was just pretend.

Because….what if it wasn’t?

Phineas was one of the most authentic people Isabella knew. Authentic to a fault, almost.

And that trademark authenticity, which she’d come to recognize in all of his inventions and actions and words in the years they’d been friends…..she recognized it now. In the hand cradling her face and the eyes gazing at her softly and the tender smile that hovered a mere foot or two from her own.

…perhaps Phineas had tried to ask her here on a date earlier.

Perhaps Buford had been right.

…

Thanks for reading!! And thanks as always to the lovely FrsdGirl for inspiring this fic and allowing me to write it and also for being just, the best ever, I adore you my friend🥺💕.

This isn’t the end btw, I know how this is gonna end, just haven’t written it properly yet!

#surprise it is a late night fic!#phineas and ferb #cadence writes #pnf fic #phinabella #phinbella #isabella garcia shapiro #phineas flynn

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quietmyfearswith · 4 years ago

Text

new year’s day ; andy barber x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count — 3,960 words

warnings — swearing, mentions of active sex life, SMUT, degradation, sir kink, choking, oral smut (receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex (pls use protection), slapping, name calling, drinking champagne off of one’s body, fluff at the end?? porn without plot lol

pairing — andy barber x fem!reader

a/n — HAPPY NEW YEAR! im still high on my andy feels so yeah,, lmk what yoou think!

masterlist

“Fuckin’ hell my eyes hurt,” Y/N groaned out as she rubbed her palms on her eyelids, as if she was massaging the stress away. Rose could only chuckle at her friend’s distress, “Well I did warn you about how you shouldn't have gone to work today; you deserve to take a break once in a while you know?”

Cracking her knuckles once she was done rubbing her eyes, Y/N retorted, “Well it’s not like I had any New Year’s Eve plans so I decided why not go to work?” As she continued to torment her eyes with the light emitted from her desktop. Being her only real friend at the workplace, Rose took it as a responsibility to look after her; for she knew how she wasn’t really close with her family and her other closest friends were on the different side of the country. “Hey, I invited you to that party me and Agnes are going to!”

Tearing her straining eyes away from the screen, Y/N gave the brunette a pointed look, “You mean to say you invited me to party where I don’t know anyone but you and your girlfriend; which definitely guarantees that you’ll both leave me alone so you can fuck.”

Rose didn’t find it in herself to deny her allegation or defend her and her girlfriend’s active sex life; instead she could only give her a sheepish look as she joked, “Guess you’ve been spending too much time with Mr. Barber since you’re incredible at drawing conclusions and noticing patterns huh?” Seeing how much time she had spent with the mentioned lawyer over the past year, Y/N couldn’t help but nod and agree with her.

The soft chime of Rose's Favorite song rang and a cocky, “See! Can’t even wait an hour before you two get to be together,” was quickly being hushed by her friend. “Okay you have a point, we have a high sex drive — but can you blame us? And I need to leave early, stupid bitch burnt herself as she was baking.”

Chuckling without tearing her eyes away from the documents in front of her, Y/N greeted, “Yeah, yeah; don’t need to rub it in. Happy New Year’s Eve, babe.” Before heading to Mr. Barber’s office to sweetly ask to leave early, Rose went to where Y/N was seated and let their cheeks touch as their way of bidding adieu.

Andy was more than generous to allow Rose to leave the office early, “Go ahead and enjoy, you deserve it for being one of the few ones who chose to come in today,” He told her smiling form. Once she left his office, he loosened his tie and undid the top button of his button down shirt and let out a loud groan. Usually, this time last year he would be rushing to go home — if ever his work demanded his presence — in order to celebrate the New Year’s with his family. But now as he mourns the family he once had and lost it as his son was brutally killed by his ex-wife that had gone insane in disbelieving her son’s innocence was now serving prison for her crimes, he had nowhere to be.

After a couple of hours filled with silence and burying his head with paperwork, Andy noticed how there was a soft, melodious hymn coming from the other side of the office. The lawyer wasn’t necessarily alarmed, but he was curious about who was left working since there had only been 7 other people who decided to come in to work today; and to his knowledge they should have left by now.

He decided to check out who was left — but it really was an excuse to stretch his long, lean legs as he felt them cramping up a bit from being seated for too long — and was surprised to see the most diligent employee he’s ever met in his years of practicing law, “Ms. Y/N, what are you still doing here?”

Hearing his deep voice snapped her out of her concentration; seeing her boss in his less than organized state had her taken aback, “Oh Mr. Barber, I’m just doing some work on the Richards case.” Looking at the watch on his left wrist, he took note how it was a mere 15 minutes before the new year dawned on them. “No plans for the new year then?”

Deciding to test the waters she cracked a joke, “Are you talking about the holiday or the actual year? Because I have no plans for both.”Covering up her remark with a nervous chuckle, she was glad to see the older man wrinkle his eyes as he laughed out loud, “Well that makes the two of us; why don’t we grab a drink in my office?”

Eyes going wide and gasping silently, Y/N was pleasantly surprised at his offer but nevertheless nodded in agreement. Quickly shutting off her desktop, she moved out of her chair and decided to leave her footwear and floral kimono by her desk as she somewhat felt restricted by the light cloth. As she entered his post, she settled herself on the gray sofa he had placed near the office’s wall. Grabbing a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses, Andy sat beside her then poured them a drink.

“Never pegged you as a champagne guy, Mr. Barber,” She thanked him as he handed her a glass which she took a sip of; letting out a small moan of appreciation at the taste, the sound causing Andy to cross his right leg on top of the left in an effort to conceal his erection. “Please, call me Andy,” He cleared his throat as he took a sip of the liquor, “And whiskey and bourbon are my usual choices of poison; but since it’s the New Year, figured this was more appropriate.”

Y/N surprised the man beside her by drinking all of the champagne in one go and placed the now empty glass on the coffee table in front of them before turning to his gobsmacked expression and giggled, “Sorry, really need that one.” With his hooded eyes watching her intently, he drank some of his before answering, “Don’t be Y/N, it was quite a show.”

She could feel her wetness dampen the panties she wore with how good her name sounded as it left his lips, “Don’t think I ever heard you call me by my first name before.” Worried he crossed the line he was quick to fumble out an apology; but quickly stopped as he felt her hand on his thigh, “It’s okay, I’m not mad or anything. I really like it, actually,” She trailed off once she noticed how he seemed to have let out a quiet, but aroused purr. Tilting her head to the side with an amused expression plastered on her face, “You alright, Andy?”

Years of practicing law and appearing in courtrooms taught him not to lose composure; but with a simple touch and mention of his name had Andy forgetting how to remain calm and collected. But can you fucking blame him when the girl who walks around with so much grace and confidence — who also happens to be the subject of his filthy fantasies — is so close to him that he can almost feel her warmth piercing through his long-sleeved shirt. In that moment, he wasn’t sure if it was a wise or dumb decision to discard his suit jacket, but as their arms touched and he felt a surge of electricity run through his veins, he thought of himself as a fucking genius.

“I am, yeah,” Deciding to test the waters, he grabbed her hand that rested on her thigh and intertwined their fingers together; when she made no attempts at removing her hand from his he smirked, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but something tells me you want more than just this champagne I offered.”

Feeling her inhibitions disappear, she gave him a smirk of her own as she untangled her hands from his, “Well, I do want some more champagne,” Her finger was now tracing his lips as she moved to sit closer until she was now straddling his lap, “Maybe taste it from your lips?”

Silently, Andy brought the glass to his lips and downed the remaining sparkling drink; his free hand settled itself on the back of her neck, pulling her close to him until her lips touched his. As he bit her bottom lip, she opened her mouth and moaned out loud as she felt the alcoholic beverage enter her mouth. Both her hands caressed his bearded cheek as she drank up every last drop that he offered her. Groaning out loud when his mouth was now devoid of the drink, he let his tongue enter her mouth and asserted his dominance; something she willingly conceded to him. His hand on her neck traveled lower and rested on her bum, squeezing the soft flesh which emitted more moans from her.

“Been dreaming about this for so long,” His staff silently, mindlessly let out as she kissed him desperately. “Is that so?” He asked once he broke away their kiss, Y/N whined at the loss of his lips and confused with his question. Chuckling at her groggy state he squeezed both her cheeks with one hand, forcing her to focus on him and answer his question, “You said you’ve been dreaming about this, baby. Is that what you daydream about at work? Me fucking you so hard your dumb brain can’t even think straight?”

Letting out a pathetic whine, she could only nod her head enthusiastically, “Want that so fucking bad, sir.” He felt his cock harden even more at the title she called him; but he wasn’t even done with teasing her yet. “And that fantasy will come true; but first, stand up and strip for me, baby,” With a soft smack on her cheek, she stood up quickly and unzipped her dress. Andy watched her present her body for him as he poured another glass for himself.

Resting on the arm rest was the hand with the sparkling champagne, while the other was palming his erection as watched her push her dress down to the floor. “No bra? Just that poor excuse of underwear?” He moaned out as he observed the fabric that parts at the middle, teasing the paradise that awaits for his cock.

Lowering her gaze, as if bashful, at his filthy remarks before resuming her previous position of sitting on his lap with her hands moving to unbutton his button down. “Such an impatient little thing, aren’t you?” He clicked his tongue at her; to which she pouted as she stared at him with want written on her face, “I’m sorry, sir. What do you want me to do?”

“Ride my thigh like the slut you are, baby,” He commanded her without even thinking about it, which turned her on even more. Situating herself on his thick, lean thigh she moaned out loud as the fabric of her thong added even more friction. She began to ride him with slow but sharp movements, throwing her head back when she felt her wetness taint the fabric of his slacks, “How does it feel, baby?”

“Good, so good,” Her broken cries turned him on even more as he sipped on the champagne, enjoying the tingle it left on his tongue. “Do you trust me, baby?” Surprised at his question, she opened her eyes to look at him, her hip movements not faltering one bit. Upon seeing how serious he was she answered, “I do, Andy. I trust you.”

With a smirk, he then tipped the glass just above her breasts, allowing the liquid to run from her collarbones and down to her breasts. Gasping out loud when Andy runs his tongue on her skin, following the trail that the champagne took, “Don’t stop grinding on me, love,” He reminded her as his lips drank the liquid that landed on her nipple — subsequently sucking on the pebble-like flesh. Seeking purchase on his dark hair, Y/N continued rubbing herself on his thigh — his assault on her breast encouraging her to ride him even harder and faster.

“Time to drink some more,” Andy huskily spoke out as he poured some more of the beverage on her opposite breast causing the girl to stiffen a bit as she was taken aback by the sudden coolness on her breast. His tongue flattened against her skin, now more focused on kissing every inch of her skin instead of drinking up the liquor. His hand held her breast firmly, raising it a bit so he could suck on it and slurp the booze.

“Fuck, the champagne tastes even incredible on you, baby,” HIid praise got her flustered and she could only whine as she felt herself getting closer. “I’m so close, sir. Can I cum, please?” She fluttered her eyes at him sweetly, hoping he’d show her mercy; but his wicked smile and wink got her thinking she’d be shown the opposite of it. “Not yet, baby,” He was quick to shut her wails up with a smack on her breast, “Sit down on the sofa, baby.”

Even though she denied him her release, she followed his orders without a complaint — working with him provided her a clear picture of what happens when you don’t follow Andy’s orders, and it didn’t end well for everyone involved. As she sat down, she watched as the lawyer placed his glass on the table and reached for the bottle; poured some on her pussy. Y/N watched closely as Andy licked her clit, down to her hole. Without tearing his eyes away from hers, he inserted his tongue in her and tried to reach as far as his long tongue can go. “So good, Andy,” She grabbed onto his hair, pushing his face closer to her. The man was quick to smack her thigh, causing her to press her thighs more into his frame, “You know what to call me,” He warned.

“Sir,” She panted out, “Feel so good, sir.” Pleased with that, he rewarded her by rubbing his right thumb on her clit, making her moan even louder. Loving her blissed out sounds of pleasure, Andy began licking her ferociously; he drank up all of the champagne he poured and all the juices she had to provide. He inserted his left pointer and middle finger in her, taking her aback with the sudden simulation. Her thighs were shaking with how good he was making her feel, too weak to even grab onto his hair and her arms were now limp on her sides, “Sir, please! I’m so fucking close, please let me cum.”

Without tearing his mouth and hands from her he replied, “Then cum on my fucking tongue, you slut,” The vibrations adding more to the pleasure she felt. After a few more thrusts of his fingers, kitten licks of his tongue, she felt apart with a scream. Her thighs wrapped themselves around his shoulders, squeezing him so tight that she felt his beard tickle her delicate skin. Andy pulled out his fingers that were in her, replacing them with his tongue so he can gather all of her juices and drink some of them in. “You taste like fucking heaven, baby,” He groaned as he parted from her pussy, his fingers pushing her juices back inside her so he could use it as lube.

“Wanna kiss you, sir,” Her fingers touched the patch of facial hair above his lips, surprised with how it had her juices. Andy complied, giving her a brief, but sweet kiss. “Want you on your hands and knees, baby. Hold on to the back of the sofa okay?” Y/N couldn’t help but feel mushy with how gentle he was bossing her around — when she knew his next actions would be far from gentle.

Holding on to the back of the sofa, she used it to steady herself on her knees, bending slightly so she could arch her back to accentuate her ass. Andy quickly discarded his clothes before rubbing her pussy again and pushed some of her juices in, before entering in her pussy in one go. His forehead rested on her back as he groaned out, “Fuck baby you’re so tight. Been a while huh?” Anchoring himself on her hips, he slid in and out of her at a steady pace.

Y/N moaned out loud as she felt the back of her thighs meet Andy’s hips; he was thrusting into her with no remorse. Her hand travelled to her breast, switching between pinching the nipple or pulling on it. Grabbing her hair with one hand, the bearded man pulled her so her back was pressed firmly against his chest. You’d think that this would give Andy a difficult time to rut into her but it didn’t; instead it just made him drive his cock in her harder and faster, falling into a drum-like rhythm.

“Why are you fucking touching yourself, slut?” Feeling his breath on her ear turned her on more than she cared to admit and she couldn’t even string together a coherent response since the tip of his dick pushed into her g-spot, causing her to moan out loud. “You’re such a fucking mess that you can’t even think straight huh?”

Nodding pathetically was all the response Y/N could offer as she clawed on to Andy’s toned arms; the lawyer then decided to go all the way with his fun by wrapping his big hand around her neck, applying gentle pressure. “You don’t mind this do you, sweetheart?” Shaking her head no, Andy then smiled as he put more force on the sides of her neck as he rammed his cock in her until the tip of his cock repeatedly hit her bundle of nerves that made tears leave her eyes with how good everything felt. The other hand that wasn't wrapped around her throat then lowered itself on her clit, rubbing the hardened nub.

“If only you knew how hard you got me every time you came to work with a tight skirt or pants,” He breathed out against her ear, tickling her with his breath, “Giving me a perfect view of the shape of your ass,” And to emphasize his point he thrust so hard until his cock was all the way in and spanked her ass. “Walking around the office with so much fucking confidence,” He recalled the time wherein she called out an officemate for talking lewdly about her — that caused him to jerk one off in the office bathroom. “But now you’ve been reduced to a dumb cock hungry whore for me,” She wailed out in agreement as his hand squeezed her throat so tight to the point she was now gasping for breath as his other hand wrapped around her tit, loving the weight and feel of it on his hand, grabbing onto it to move it up and down his hand.

“Are you gonna cum again, baby? Gonna cum around my thick cock?” He could feel her walls clinging on to his cock even more, making it difficult to thrust in her but he was determined to keep on sliding his cock in and out. “Yes, so close, please let me cum,” She trailed off as he abandoned his hold on her tit and throat and returned to her hips so he could maneuver her and ram his cock swiftly and harder. “Cum then you, slut. Let me feel you milk my cock,” Was all the permission she needed before she dug her nails into his forearms as came with a scream, “Thank you, sir!”

Even as she was cumming, Andy thrust in and out of her; though his thrusts weren’t as powerful and quick. Once he felt her spasms die down, he slid all the way inside her and came with a groan. They both could feel his cock twitch as it released his load inside her, filling her up with his hot semen. Littering kisses on her back, Andy could feel his regular breathing return — as was hers.

Carefully, Andy pulled out of her, “Can you stand up for a bit, baby?” She nodded and stood up from her position, the lawyer guiding her to sit by the arm rests. Still stuck in her post-orgasm haze, she watched as he moved the coffee table away and transformed his sofa into a bed. Grabbing the spare bed sheet, blanket, and pillows he kept in the office — in case he had to spend the night in the office — he quickly made the bed before he helped Y/N to lay down with him, wrapping the blanket over their naked bodies.

“How you feeling?” It was amazing how he had a quick change of demeanor; Y/N was lazily tracing over Andy’s face with her finger, making the most out of this intimate moment. “Feel good, really good. Always wanted someone to fuck me the way you did.”

Her curt response had him chuckling, loving the way she was being open with him and the way she traced over his features. “Well I’m glad I fulfilled this fantasy of yours.”

Suddenly, Y/N felt small and insecure; was this a one time thing? Just something to release his frustrations and a fantasy of hers that's been fulfilled? Furrowing her eyebrows, she failed to mask her worry as she wondered, “So this is just a one time thing then?”

Hating what she just said, Andy kissed the wrinkle in between her eyebrows as he spoke, “I don’t want it to be. I really want to be with you; if you’ll have me, of course.” A small smile rested on her lips as her eyes brightened up, “I’d want that and you. You’re so amazing, Andy. I admire your strength, resilience, and determination. For someone who could easily give up in life you choose to carry on and look forward to what the future holds. It’s just a bonus that you have a thick cock and know how to use it.”

Her small speech had him chuckling and kissing her nose, pulling her close against him, “What I said earlier was true; I love how you walk around the office like you own the place. You take no shit from people and do your job damn well. Plus, I love your music taste as well.”

Grinning at him she jeered, “Wow can’t believe you still sweet talk your way even if it’s not in a courtroom setting.” Andy laughed at her retort and just grazed his fingertips on her sides, tickling her so he can hear her giggle. Once both their laughter died down, their lips met for a sweet, passionate kiss. “We have quite a mess to clean up tomorrow, Andy,” Y/N reminded him as she referred to the champagne bottle, glasses, their clothes, and his sofa bed — their whole situation, really.

“I don’t care,” He whispered as smiled at her, feeling so much lighter and better having been haunted by his personal demons for so long, “I don’t mind doing anything as long as it’s with you.”

Her heart fluttered with his simple statement; she was then reminded of the new year countdown. Reaching out for his wrist, she checked the time and noticed how a few minutes had passed 12. “Happy new year, Andy,” She greeted him with a peck on his lips.

A short, sweet kiss was returned to her as he planted his lips on hers again — quickly getting addicted to her, “Happy new year, baby. Can’t wait to spend this year with you by my side.”

#quietmyfearswith #andy barber fanfic #andy barber angst #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x fem!reader #andy barber smut #andy barber fluff #andy barber x reader smut #andy barber x reader fluff #andy barber x reader angst

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secret-engima · 4 years ago

Text

Team Gremlin verse: The Reunion

(So this is ... a very rough draft so to speak of what I wanna do for the reunion scene with Oscar and Ozpin. I’m not dubbing it ‘canon’ yet because I’d have to wait for the actual fic to catch up and then tweak accordingly but so far- this is what is in my head and I figured I should let others enjoy the angst :D)

...

Ozpin slipped away from the crowd exiting the tent with a pounding heart. He could feel his fingers shake on the hilt of Long Memory as he managed to duck into the shadows outside the large emerald and gold tent. He had found him. All this time searching, all this time praying and hoping and looking only to be too late and he had found him. He had sat in the stands and seen the boy in action, heard the music and seen the magic both fake and real, and felt the sheer energy and joy the little Ringmaster felt in his performance like lightning in Ozpin’s own bones. And then- the song. The final song. Because Oscar always rounded off with a song, ones not meant for spectacle, but instead for the heart. A sincere wish and message for those fortunate to sit beneath the ceiling of the Emerald City for the night.

The song alone could have brought him to tears. But to hear it sung by the little boy in the ring, the impossible, wonderful, miracle child who had every right to lash out at the world in hate, yet instead chose to fill it with wonders … it had been all he could do to keep from crying with there in the stands. To not try to climb down the makeshift seating and into the ring because all he’d wanted was to hold him.

His son. The son he had never seen outside of grainy photos and shaky recordings, who he had tried desperately to find the more he learned what the child had lived through. And now Ozpin had found him. Now Ozpin had a chance to meet him. He just had to get backstage.

It wasn’t hard to escape the eyes of the crowd, and it wasn’t much more difficult to slip through the shadows to the little ring of emerald tents set up behind the big top, the tents where the various performers of the rare and popular Emerald City act stayed. He hesitated on the boundary, trying to pick out which one of the colorful, green-themed tents belonged to the Ringmaster —his son, his child that he had never gotten to meet, would never have known about save a series of accidents—. He heard laughter and activity behind him, the performers returning to their temporary homes, and he ducked forward into the shadows of a tent at random. They would run him off if they found him, he was certain of that. He was a stranger to them at best, or worse, a known player in the war that had created the boy he hoped to meet, that had no doubt hurt many of those who followed him —such as Hazel, and how the man had ever been swayed from Salem’s promise of revenge, Ozpin could not fathom but did not want to test—.

He heard no activity from the tent he was hiding behind, and while the air whispered with hints of magic, it wasn’t coming from this tent, so he moved on to another. This time, he dared peak into the tent flap, but saw nothing but the vague shadows of personal belongings. No sign of the little Ringmaster —his son, his child—.

Ozpin backed away from that tent, heart drumming anxiously in his chest. Then he turned and froze.

The massive Grimm, the strange one that Qrow called Hound. The monster that for some reason Ozpin never wanted to contemplate —but had spent many hours doing just that— followed his son everywhere. Behaved like it was tame and natural rather than a creature of Darkness that longed only for destruction. It stood just a few feet away, so large it’s head was even with Ozpin’s chin as it watched him with flat, glowing red lights for eyes.

His fingers tightened on the hilt of Long Memory, lifetimes of instinct screaming to raise his weapon and attack first before it could kill him or anyone else here. But he had seen recordings of this same Grimm, dressed up in ridiculous costumes to hide its true nature from unpracticed eyes, parading around in the circus ring like a big dog. He had seen his son ride on its back and balance on its head and Qrow had recounted more than one instance of Oscar and the other children escaping on its back. It hadn’t been present for this particular show, but he had seen multiple recordings of previous ones where it entered the ring and no one had been harmed. Of course, Ozpin’s son —Salem’s son, for all the second half of that coin tore at his guts— had been close by all those times, but here there was no one in sight but the two of them.

The Grimm tilted its head slowly to one side, a ragged ear pricking like an actual dog’s. It wasn’t attacking. Even though Ozpin knew he must stink of so many different types of fear he could attract an entire pack of Beowolves all on his own. It just … studied him.

Slowly, it’s jaws opened, and Ozpin prepared to dodge some attack. Instead, the large, blood red tongue slid out from between massive teeth and lolled there, a slow, thoughtful trio of pants before it licked its teeth and shut its jaws again. Without any further reaction, it lowered its head and turned away, walking slow and ponderously toward one of the tents that had light peaking through the bottom. Ozpin watched it leave with a blank, confused mind, then startled when it stopped and twisted around to look over its shoulder at him.

It looked like it was waiting.

It looked like it wanted him to follow.

Inhaling raggedly —this was the stupidest thing he had done in lifetimes he was sure—, Ozpin started following in the Grimm’s footsteps.

It led him to the tent farthest from the bigtop, nudged open the flap with something like practiced ease, and shouldered its way in. Ozpin lingered outside, suddenly too afraid to go a step further. There was a Grimm in there, but somehow, the realization that his son might be in there was even more terrifying than that. If he stood out here too long, he would be caught, he knew that, and yet…

“Hey, Sondor,” murmured a voice through the tent fabric and Ozpin’s world crystalized, “Everything alright? You left in a bit of a hurry.” A deep rumble, inhuman and bass and … oddly content sounding. The voice —a child’s voice, a gentle voice, a voice he’d just heard laughing and waxing dramatic for a show of fake magic and real mysteries— laughed faintly, “Checking on someone then? You know everyone has to stay up late on performance nights.”

If he held on any tighter to his cane, he thought it might shatter, but the feel of it grounded him like it always had, and with the last bit of courage he possessed in this lifetime, he pushed the tent flap open and slipped inside as the voice —his son— finished saying, “We’ll be sure to take long naps in the morning.”

Ozpin was here. He was standing in the same space as his child, without a crowd to be wary of or a performance to keep them apart. He was standing in some kind of makeshift workshop, with a cot on the floor on the far side and the vast majority of space taken up by a battered, foldable metal table that seemed to be a desk and all the tools of a magician’s trade. Cards and wands and hats, gloves and fanciful outfits and a hundred thousand other things that didn’t matter, because amid all the mess, with his back mostly to the entrance and a massive Grimm lying contentedly next to his feet, was the Ringmaster.

His child.

The Grimm raised its head again to stare at him, a low noise he’d never heard the monsters make before rumbling from its chest, and the boy tilted his head toward the tent entrance absently, still not looking away from the Dust gem he was setting in his elaborate cane, “Hey Neo, you’re back early. I thought you were still scoping … out…” he finished setting the Dust in his cane, looked up and saw Ozpin standing there. Neither of them moved. Green-gold eyes in a young face —he looked ten had Qrow really been correct on estimating his age closer to twelve or thirteen?— went wide, and the magic passively swirling through the tent shrunk in on itself until he couldn’t feel it.

It occurred belatedly to Ozpin that while he had essentially been stalking his son for the last few years in an attempt to meet him and make sure he was okay, the boy wouldn’t know him at all. Or worse, had only heard of him from people who hated him —from Salem herself even—. And now Ozpin had just shown up in the boy’s living space without warning or invitation.

Terror and nerves tangled up all the words he wanted to say, all the ones he’d longed to say, and instead he found himself folding both of his shaking hands on the pommel of his cane and bleating out the first, most habitual line currently living in his brain, “Hello, I’m Professor Ozpin-.”

A shout, loud and gutted, and all his words died in his throat again as the boy threw himself off his little camp chair and at Ozpin. Long Memory clattered to the ground unnoticed as Ozpin instinctively raised his hands to wrap around the little body that collided with his waist, slender arms tightening like a vise around him and Ozpin couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe-.

Had he really said-?

A hiccuping sob from the child in his arms, a fully body thing that shook him from his tousled black hair to his shoes while that word spun endlessly in Ozpin’s mind, haunting him and confusing him because he couldn’t have heard that right. He couldn’t have heard…

“Dad.”

The word echoed between them again, muffled by a young face buried in his suit jacket, and Ozpin felt his own breath start to stammer as he clung tighter to the boy in his arms, sinking down to his knees despite the screaming in his leg and burying his face in flyaway black hair, “I’m here.” He choked out, “I’m right here. I’ve got you. You’re alright. I’m right … I’m right here.”

Magic pressed against his skin, burrowed into his soul, needy and desperate and fearful in a way his daughters’ had never been until the very end —until the moment his shield broke and he could no longer protect them—. It begged him and Ozpin forgot about everything else, forgot every other concern or person in the world as he let his own magic unspool and twine with the younger, needy magic begging him for comfort. Behind his closed eyelids he could see it, the colors spinning and twisting in the space between their souls. His ever-dwindling green wrapping around a younger, deeper, stronger wellspring of emerald laced with snapping red, whispering black and dancing flickers of purple, gold, blue, and white.

The younger magic coiled tightly in his, desperate and pained, crying in relief and fear just as loudly as the sobs that shook his son’s body. It was open to him, painfully open and raw, trusting despite how this boy had every reason to fear another’s magic. In the breath between crying and comforting and accepting, Ozpin’s magic brushed up against what could only be called a crack in his child’s soul. A jagged old wound that had never properly healed. Glass sharp and weeping and-.

Pain-pain-pain-fear-fear-please-pleasedon’tleavedon’tleaveme-.

Magic, green and old, bodiless and desperate and half-mad with agony sinking inside and locking in place in a message that screamed all the way down to bone marrow and soul fiber.

Mine-my-child-I-love-you-I-loveyoumychildmy-

“Oscar.” Ozpin choked out, struggling to shake off the remnants of memory hidden in soul shards and old wounds. Realization reeled, pulled at the fabric of reality beneath his feet. “Oscar,” he repeated, rolling the name of his son over his tongue and wondering at the sensation of right, of familiarity even though he had never met this child before. He had, of course, known his name. The boy made a little joke of it at the beginning of all his performances, but now the name had weight. Had an echo of knowledge to it that he couldn’t quite grasp.

Even though, somehow, his son knew him. And perhaps that should terrify him. Because his son was a child still, yet somewhere in the spaces between incarnations, or in the moments between life and death and dreams, his child remembered him and clung to a message of love even though it had been tangled up in so much pain.

“I tried,” Oscar sobbed into his chest, “I tried, I’m- I’m so sorry-.”

Ozpin hushed him, ran shaking fingers through his son’s hair and ignored the way his glasses had completely blurred over from the tears they caught, “I know. It’s alright. You’re alright. You’re alive, Oscar.” He guided his son’s face to his scarf and pressed his cheek against the top of Oscar’s head, “You’re alive. That’s all that matters to me.” He inhaled raggedly and set aside the spinning theories trying to take root, the odd mix of age-youth-age and time-turned-back in Oscar’s magic that made him wonder. He had long assumed that Oscar’s aging was … strange, a byproduct of being the child of two immortals. Yet feeling Oscar’s magic, the soft echo of bells and clockwork gears hidden inside it, he couldn’t help but remember that gravity and its magic was an aspect of space and space was a partner of time. There had been spells that toyed with time long ago that left impressions on the souls that used them, though never on such a large scale as what Ozpin was contemplating.

But if anyone could reinvent a way to turn back the hands of the world’s clock, it would be the child of Ozma and Salem, surely —had his son known a previous incarnation, or had his son met Ozpin himself in the future, had he lived a prisoner of Salem until he was a teen or even an adult, only meeting his father to see him die in agony at his mother’s hands, had a single dying message of love amid a lifetime of darkness truly been enough to make him fight time itself to make things right—.

But that didn’t matter right now.

He was here. Oscar was here. They were both alive and safe and his little boy was tucked trustingly in his arms, and that was what mattered right now. It mattered more than anything else in the world.

“I love you, Oscar,” he whispered into his son’s hair as he rocked them back and forth, uncaring of his jacket and scarf becoming soaked with tears, or the way Oscar’s magic coiled around his soul so tightly it was almost burning, “I love you. I’m here.”

“I missed you,” Oscar choked out between sobs, another piece to Ozpin’s puzzle set aside for later times, “I love y-you t-too.” A hiccup, loud and ugly, a shiver in Ozpin’s arms, “Don’t go.”

“I won’t,” Ozpin promised, hand cradling the back of Oscar’s head, trying to shield him from the nightmares he could sense lurking within, “I won’t go. I’m right here.” He exhaled wetly, “I’m right here.”

#Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #Team Gremlin verse #the song oscar sung in the circus this time #was Home by Jeff Williams #in case ya'll wanna break your feels

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the-silentium · 4 years ago

Text

Featuring a Cyborg and a Magician

Masterlist

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader, Hunter x Reader, Crosshair x Reader

Words: 5667 words

Warnings: Kayden is a warning of his own.

A/N: Let’s have some fun shall we? I decided that now was the time to include Echo if I ever wanted to include Omega.

Taglist: @clone-rambles / @mandaloriandin / @apathetic-catastrophie / @jenstar1992-2 / @haloangel391 / @lightning-wolffe / @cherrydemon5 / @and-claudia / @lackofhonor / @gaymasonjar / @depthsreturn / @koskareevesismyqueen / @leonidas-banana-phone / @mangoberry43

________________

"Ooooh can I come on this one too?" Kayden clapped his hands excitedly like a child, his eyes wide in anticipation and nearly bouncing on his seat.

As it turned out, taking him with you all wasn't hard. It only required a Batcher to have your wooden crest in their possession for him to be able to follow them in a 3 klicks radius and his presence on missions had helped on the two previous ones he slipped himself in.

Retrieving heavily guarded data was a walk in the park when you could have someone walk in there like a tourist, search around for his objective while ignoring the commands of the clankers surrounding him and laugh as the friendly fire killed a majority of the enemy forces.

He even managed to detonate a malfunctioning bomb by walking right up to it, press the button to blow up the whole base and pop back into the Marauder in a second, whistling like it was nothing. Correcting the error in the programming would have taken too much time and the chances of a Batcher being hurt would have risen exponentially with each passing second.

He was a precious ace up your sleeves… when he wasn't a shit digger.

Unsurprisingly, his not-so-hidden talent was to create chaos wherever he passed. It was true back in Alryan, it was still true in the Havoc Marauder. Many new rules were created to ensure that nothing too awkward happened and to keep a somewhat control over the situation.

Rule number one: Kayden had to be visible at all times when in the ship, the only exception to the rule being when people outside the Batch were around. Two: the barracks were off-limits as he didn't sleep and there were established relationships aboard that liked to have their private alone time. Then came rule number three: do not be a nuisance. This command encompassed the pranks, the whining and the fact that he couldn't be seen or else the Batch would be in deep problems.

"General Skywalker is a Jedi, Kayden. What if he can sense you? Or worse, what if he sees you? What do you want us to tell him?"

Cody's debrief has been short and a bit too vague to your liking. Usually, he was more concise but then again, you've rarely worked with Jedis before. In the nearly two years you passed with them, it only happened once and it was a memorable experience.

Watching those two peacekeepers fight from your seat in the Havoc Marauder left you in awe. Their movements and grace made a straining fight look so easy and- "Dunno. That he should stop doing spices?"

Kayden said it with such nonchalance that you nearly got whiplash at how quick you turned to face him, although you did choke on air at the mere idea of insulting a General that can use the Force.

"No. You're sitting this one out. We can't risk blowing her cover if he can link you to her and Fors." Hunter intervened while getting his armor on, just like the rest of the team.

"He could be useful during the recon part of the mission." Tech pointed out, adjusting his pauldrons. "There are still a lot of unknown variables in this operation and his abilities could be desirable on the field."

"Yeah what he said." Kayden's arms crossed at his chest. You rolled your eyes at his childishness and finished strapping your custom chestplate on to get to your rerebraces and vambraces.

"If you can refrain from pulling tricks on everyone and follow orders that is." Tech added with a heavy look. If it managed to get his attention away from his datapad, then it was a really important point.

"I can do that." You would have laughed at how definite he sounded, but Crosshair beat you to it.

"Right." The sniper sneered and you smirked. Now that he could get away with pretty much anything, Kayden often took pleasure in disturbing the grey-haired clone and rile him up until you had to intervene or Crosshair would blow a fuse.

"You ass-"

"The answer's still no. We successfully completed missions with bigger holes in them than this one. We'll manage." Hunter put an end to the debate just as he slipped his helmet on his head.

"Yeah cuz y'all like big holes, eh?" Since he was losing, he retreated to his old habits. You kind of felt bad for him. You knew he was bored of staying on the ship. Hells, even you who were the assigned pilot had more fun in this thin can because you could actually fly it. All he could do was watch all days long and wait all nights long.

"Better stop talking now." Crosshair too slipped his bucket on and grabed his rifle for a last inspection.

"Or you'll hit me?" Smugness dripped from each of his words, a daring look in his eyes.

"Let's not get there, shall we?" You showed him the Core between your fingers, that he knew you could control his density with. Wrecker happily tested your theory a while back.

"No thank you." Kayden conceded defeat, hands in the air and slumped in his seat behind you, arms crossed.

________

The recon went well if you based yourself on the fact that everyone was still in one piece, regs and Batchers alike. There was no denying that you were worried Crosshair would cause too much problem to the boys in blue. It seemed like there was tension between them and your abrasive boyfriend, but nothing too dangerous.

As the Marauder's pilot, you stayed behind with the ship and by extension, Kayden, who whined the whole time about not being able to enjoy his time as a ghost.

"I'm still young! Now's the time to enjoy myself! Not when I'll be an old rat like that chandeler."

"Chancelor." You'd correct him on the title, but not on the old rat. You had to admit that he did give off that vibe. As for his age, you actually had no idea if he was still aging or not.

You admired your work, the ship was in order, every supply has been replenished in the boys' absence, the fuels tanks were full to the brim and all that was missing for the ship to be complete was the crew of walking testosterone.

A couple of hours later they arrived and you fussed over them. None were injured, to your relief, and everyone headed to bed for a short night of sleep. Everyone who could sleep, that is.

You knew it'd be awkward to have a Jedi on board so you geared up quickly, wolfed down your plain food that the GAR dared call a breakfast and put your whole armor on, deadset on keeping your helmet on until the mission was over. Not even Crosshair managed to take it off you for a kiss.

"It'll be fine." He'd reassured you with that soft tone he only reserved for his time alone with you. The following keldabe kiss put you more at ease.

The effect only lasted an hour.

Shortly after, the General entered the ship with his Captain in tow and you set course on Skako Minor.

You had managed to lay low for a good part of the trip with your Bad Batch fashioned bucket on and some good old shut-your-mouth. The boys at the back kept all the attention, Kayden remained invisible and civilized, while you navigated the ship alongside Tech.

Everything was alright until you felt Skywalker's gaze taking you in, up and down slowly just like the two Jedis a year ago. He analyzed you the same manner they both did, with an attentive eye and- you couldn't see it but you were sure it was there- a small frown. Your heartbeat picked up again and you forcefully swallowed the lump in your throat.

Tech's theory about your origins being somehow mixed with the Jedis' must be true to some extent. Three out of three force users took a special interest in you and you were sure what got their attention was the weird wave of energy traveling between you.

He approached the front of the ship and you could now see his scrunched eyebrows, his head slightly tilted to the side, still trying to figure out what was special about you.

Heat raised to your cheeks under your helmet, every muscle in your legs contracted to keep you from listening to your fears of being separated from your newfound family and run away. There was nowhere to run anyway, you weren't in the jungle anymore.

Would he try to invade your mind like Wrecker said? Would he find out who you were? Stay calm. Keep your mask on like in the village and it'll be fine. Calm your mind.

After more than a year on this ship, you developed the useful ability to distinguish who was walking where with the mere sound of the person's steps. Each clone had a distinctive footstep and right now, it was Hunter who moved to your side to save your ass. The sore muscles in your legs started relaxing, followed by the drum in your chest. You'd be fine. Hunter will have it under control.

Then, right before Hunter could intervene, General Skywalker suddenly gripped his shoulder in a hiss, freezing the blood in your veins. The man looked behind him to find no one close enough to have hurt him and flee. All the others were minding their own business, while Hunter was yet not within arms reach.

"What…"

"General?" Captain Rex inquired after he approached at his CO's sound of pain, the confusion on his features reflected perfectly the one on the brunette's face.

The Jedi stood silent for a moment longer. You felt the energy around him shifting as he searched his surroundings for something. Please do not find him. Please do not find him!

Thank the gods Texh was actually piloting the ship, your attention so completely focussed on the General that you could have rammed into an asteroid the size of a planet.

"It's nothing." He shrugged it off and reported his attention on you. "I don't think no one mentioned a pilot. What's your name trooper?"

Talking to General Skywalker was inevitable and you knew it. You simply didn't think that you'd be stuck in a Kayden-induced stress while doing so.

"Not a trooper, sir." You removed your helmet to show him what you meant and offer him a sheepish smile. "My name's Y/N."

"My apologies. I didn't know the GAR assigned civilians to trooper squads." Again, he eyed you up and down, but you kept your cool this time. He didn't seem to be able to find what was wrong and didn't force an access in your head.

"It's rare but not unheard of. Her abilities with a ship made her a good match for our team and the," He paused to search for an adequate word. "Type of mission we usually do." Tech elaborated on your situation.

"And what type is that?" Rex came closer to get a good look at you and even offer you a hand to shake.

"Downright suicidal, Captain." You managed to genuinely chuckle while shaking his hand in a firm grip. "I'd recommend strapping in, the landing will be a difficult one." You announced as the first turbulence racked the Marauder.

You silently prayed that this situation with the blue-eyed Jedi would be the only difficult part of the mission. Helmet back on, you showed off your skills by landing the ship in a raging storm.

_______

There was very little you could do for Echo without using the Core. After reading through the whole Forsian book about its powers, you learned that it could be used to heal dying planets and basically anything in the galaxy.

Your desire to create or heal a planet was extremely low. However, your desire to heal your comrades was very high. Instead of creating life and whatnot, you used the Core to heal their wounds and keep them safe. So far, no one had been on the verge of death so the crystal passed its time tucked in your pocket that was now closed with a zipper to ensure that it did not slip out.

The book didn't tell whether or not using the Core affected the Force so you refrained from using the golden rock on Echo seeing as Tech and yourself highly supposed that it did, as it was said that the Force was connected to every form of life and the Core was the initial creator of life. There was no way you'd leave hints for General Skywalker to pick.

Echo went off a while ago, looking paler than Kayden, to barge in a strategic debrief with too many Generals for you to ever consider following him. Now that the ship was only composed of members of the Bad Batch, reprimands were in order.

"You hit the General?!" Despite keeping his voice down, the strength in his tone unconsciously caused you to press further into the cushion of your seat in the cockpit.

"I pinched him because he made her uncomfortable." Kayden popped on the Sergeant's left with a scowl of his own. To his credit, he did stay with you in the ship and followed Hunter's orders. You were sure he would have sneaked the crest on someone's backpack like he did on the very mission he attended.

"I was going to intervene." You let them bicker, instead turning to Tech when his hand fell to your armored shoulder.

"I get it that you've had another sort of connection with the General." His curious brown eyes met yours for a whole second.

"Yeah. It was more powerful with him than with the others." You recalled, remembering how the dull hum between you and General Skywalker was way more significant than the one flowing between you and the two previous Jedis.

"I highly suspect that the strength of the bond is influenced by the strength of the Jedi. General Skywalker is known to be quite strong Force-wise." He typed away at his vambrace too fast for you to keep up with his notes. Back-Up peered up at you with her dark eyes, her body wrapped tightly around Tech's vambrace to enjoy the warmth radiating from the electronics below the plastoid. "It seems like you can still feel a particular form of Force despite not being sensitive to it. Surely due to your legacy and your connection to the Core. It is the source of the Force after all."

You nearly yelped when a fist collided with your shoulder. Wrecker's playful punch didn't hurt as much as it scared the shit out of you. "Yes because she's a goddess!"

You sighed at the perpetual reminder that you may or may not be as normal as you'd like to be. Wrecker's excitement was cute and all, but you wanted to be their equal, not some deity that could be perceived as superior or something.

You knew your two boyfriends had been influenced by it at some point. He never told you, but you were certain Crosshair had been intimidated or would use the excuse of you being "better than he was" to belittle himself. He had started distancing himself a little, although you didn't let him the time to get too far and reassured him that you didn't care who or what you were, that all you wanted was to be his. Hunter found himself on the other side of the spectrum. He would often use the excuse of you being a "goddess" to worship you more than necessary. He didn't get it the wrong way like his brother, no, he used it to his advantage, whispering words of adoration and how he could venerate your body all day long. You blushed at the memory of your last worshipping session.

"Am not!"

"You are!"

"Am not!"

"You brought Kayden back! And you healed my blaster burn the other week and you helped that village on Ruusan when their entire crops have been destroyed by the clankers!"

You bit your lip at the reminder of what you did. Tech had been against your intervention, saying that miraculously reappearing crops would be awfully suspicious and could be easily linked to the team. You'd listened in the beginning, but as the day passed, you noticed more and more people hurting from hunger. Kids who couldn't understand why they couldn't satisfy their rumbling stomachs cried their hunger, mothers did their best to not seem affected but from a sharp, adult eye, their suffering was clear.

You weren't an idiot. New crops didn't magically grow back in under a minute. No, deep down you wished that there was a nearby undiscovered meadow, hidden in the dense vegetation, where juicy fruits grew in the trees and small preys liked to play. Edible fungus pullulated through the grass amongst the root vegetables that were already ready to be harvested.

It had been 100% unintentional. You'd thought that this could have been a good idea and the next thing you knew, a kid came back running with two round fruits in his hands, holding them like they were treasures and claiming that there was “infinite” more. Needless to say, the kid's overstatement gave you a heart attack and won you a lecture by not only Tech but Hunter too. Up to this day, you never regretted accidentally helping them. Not when the kids were cheering in glee at the food and the moms were relieved to the point of spilling some tears.

"She's a what who did what?" A voice rang out from the Havoc Marauder's entrance, sending your heartbeat and body heat through the roof.

Echo stood there in his new armor, courtesy of Clone Force 99's armor surplus from when Tech developed your own custom model, a deep frown deforming his tired features.

For a split second, everyone stood there, frozen in place, until Crosshair harshly pulled the clone inside and hit the buttons near the door to lift the ramp. Should have done that sooner. You could at least be relieved that he was alone and not accompanied by either his Captain or General.

"Who's that?" Echo added once he realized he'd walked in a confidential conversation and that everyone was wracking their brains to find a suitable lie. His features hardened from confusion to suspicion as he shook Crosshair off his arm and stood straighter.

Kayden, who was still poking Hunter's chest plate, clapped his hands once and kept them pressed together. "No one." There was an awkward pause as he met yours and Hunter's gaze and turned to Echo with a wink. "Don't do spices." He uselessly added before vanishing.

The gloved hand flying to your forehead was purely unintentional. Idiot!

"What was that?! Where did he go?" The clone took a step backward, his eyes moving around frantically.

"He's- eh-" Hunter was the first to attempt to defuse the situation. He was a good liar. Knew what signs to avoid, how to keep his vitals as normal as possible and had quite a quick reply. The thing was, Echo had had enough time to see that Kayden wasn't just the fruit of his imagination and the moron even talked. The alarmed expression on Wrecker's face wasn't helping either.

Considering all the factors, you decided that Hunter's lie would not do. "Echo, calm down. Let us explain." You abandoned your seat to get closer.

"How can I trust what you say when you hide things from the GAR and that- the man that was there- he…" He tripped on his words and guilt washed over you. The poor man passed years at the Techno Union's mercy, was brainwashed, butchered up and patched back up with mechanical pieces. He was already lost and confused and what he overheard wasn't helping.

"Big words coming from you." Your jaw tightened as soon as Crosshair cut him off, the toothpick between his lips moving from one side of his mouth to the other.

Echo bristled at the attack. "What does that mean?"

"You've been a Separatist puppet for quite some time, selling the GAR every time you could. Now, how do we know you won't be selling us out?" He grabbed his toothpick and threw it with a flick to the white and blue chestplate before you could even lift your hand to stop him.

"I wasn't in control! I'd never betray the GAR and my brothers!"

"Cross, stop." You put yourself between the sniper and the once reg, your right hand falling on the grey plastoid to keep him at bay and maybe calm his arrogance. You knew his whole demeanor was because he was worried you'd be taken away if Echo decided to report you and what happened with Kayden. You were worried too. Scared even. But it wasn't Echo's fault and you couldn't hold it against him. Talking about such things when still on base had been stupid and reckless.

Crosshair didn't meet your eyes but you knew he'd not interfere when the muscles in his neck relaxed. Your hand fell to your side and you turned to Echo. "My instinct tells me that you're trustworthy, so listen. What I'll tell you must not be repeated outside the Marauder and to no one else."

"Y/N-" Hunter tried to talk you down from telling the truth, a hand softly grabbing on your shoulder to catch your attention.

"It's alright. Echo's a good one." You smiled warmly at the tattooed clone. "I'm not a goddess," You shot a look at Wrecker who nodded his head in contradiction. "But I can create some things at will. Like crops and such." You intentionally forgot to mention the Core. You trusted your gut, but let's not forget that the Lumsins fooled you once. "And the guy you saw was Kayden. He's- eh…"

"Your brother." A voice rang out from nowhere and everywhere, scaring Echo who jumped and hit a console with his elbow.

Silently wishing he did not hit his funny bone, you continued. "Adopted. But yeah. He's that. And he's technically dead."

His eyes grew wide and once again, he seemed to struggle to find the right words."Wh- Did you say dea-"

Sharp knocks on the side of the ship cut the conversation short. "Permission to get in? I hope you're all ready in there!"

Everyone straightened, multiple pairs of eyes fell on the 501st trooper to see how he'd react. Against a majority of the expectations aboard the Marauder, Echo kept his mouth shut.

"Of course General! Sorry about the ramp!" You answered the man outside the door before quickly glancing back at Echo. "If you keep this for yourself, I'll explain more later." You promised and even offered your hand to seal the deal.

After looking at the boys behind you that you were sure looked back at him with hard looks and maybe some distrustful gazes, he nodded once, shook your hand and stepped aside so you could lower the ramp for the blue Captain and his General.

"Welcome back." You smiled before hurrying away to your seat, away from the weird buzzing energy that roared to life once the Jedi walked up the stairs.

______

Flying right towards a Separatist fleet messed with your nerves. Even though you'd previously mentioned trusting the robot-clone, Kayden could easily feel the doubt snaking its way into your mind. Despite everything, you remained calm and focused on your task. As soon as the droid called your permission to land on their big-ass ship, the brunette felt a new wave of pride wash away your worry.

He had to admit, so far your guess had been right. The clone kept his word and didn't mention Kayden or the fact that you were a goddess to any of the men that radiated authority more than testosterone. Because yes, you were a god damn goddess despite you denying it like a vegan that claims to have never cheated on their crazy diet.

So far, you were the only member of the Bad Batch who trusted Echo. Even Wrecker was still torn between accepting the new guy or following his brothers' judgment. As usual Crosshair was nasty towards everyone, Hunter was more on his guard than anything else and Tech, well, Kayden didn't like feeling Tech's emotions. They were so fast and too much was happening at the same time that it gave him terrible headaches. From the look he exchanged with Hunter, though, it was easy to tell how he felt about Echo.

Guess they're like that for every outsider that joins the bubble, Kayden thought. He watched as you landed upside down under the belly of the cruiser and gave your signal to the rest of them.

Time to go!

Sneaking the crest into Wrecker's backpack had been terribly unchallenging. Everyone was concentrated on the mission or on Echo, leaving him all the time in the world to fetch the necklace from under your pillow- yes, he wasn't supposed to be in this room but who listens to rules anyway- pass through the barracks doors and discreetly make his way to Wrecker. No one saw the flying piece of wood and now he could get off this damn ship and maybe even enjoy his time outside.

Kayden jogged and ran with the group, staying invisible for any mortal and mechanical eyes. He watched as Echo proved his loyalty to the Republic and got zapped when he pushed his luck.

So far, he'd been pretty disappointed. He thought a cruiser this size would swarm droids of all sorts, giving him some reason to be out and about. Then Skywalker ran away and the action began. He didn't know if he still had veins and adrenaline, but Kayden felt a surge of energy flow through his whole being. Let the fun begin!

He walked two corridors down so he would not be seen by Rex still following the Bad Batch and messed with the droids' internal circuits. He discovered that his new ghost status allowed him to disrupt electronic systems. Tech wasn't too happy about his learning method, but it was a necessary process.

To his delight, the droids fell like flies under his ministrations and he got to return invisible before the clones even turned the corner. He waited for them, leaning onto the wall with a smug grin on his face. Hunter will love this.

"What happened here?" The blue trooper's steps faltered as he took in the scene. Hunter shook his head with a low grunt while Tech crouched to assess the nearest robot. The Bad Batch already knew what happened, but needed to put on a show nonetheless. The wave of displeasure radiating off every single one of them minus Wrecker nearly made him laugh.

"They seem to have malfunctioned, somehow." Tech provided his best half-truth. There wasn't time to ponder more on the matter as more droids marched their way and thus, Rex accepted the explanation and passed to the next problem.

"There's too many of them!" Kayden scoffed at Rex's statement. Not for this team, bud.

To Kayden's joy, Wrecker got into position. This was his cue.

"Mind a little help?" He smirked at Crosshair who was currently sniping through his body to hit some targets behind him. From his place right over the corner, there was no way Rex could see him. It wasn't the case for Hunter.

"Hell yeah!" Wrecker cheered before charging the first droid.

"Kayden, no." Hunter growled so low he nearly missed it.

"Kayden, yes." He laughed as he popped at the other end of the hallway filled with droids. Wrecker charged at the B-1s, quickly making his way to Kayden's position as he walked between the yellow robots and worked his magic.

He was taking down his 7th victim when movement and loud approaching steps caught his attention. A large pile of droids charged his way and would have knocked him over had he not made himself intangible.

He couldn't control the laugh bubbling out of his mouth at seeing Wrecker throw the droids everywhere. Since the last enemy standing was shaking in fear, Kayden took it as his cue to disappear once more.

"I heard someone." Rex peaked in the scrap-filled hallway, his head moving right and left to try and identify what caught his ears.

"Wrecker?" Hunter asked with an impeccably innocent voice.

"No, not him. It was a laugh. But it wasn't Wrecker." The man was on edge, his senses alert and gun at the ready.

"Didn't hear anything, Captain." Hunter turned to meet Echo's frowning gaze. Brownie points right there! The peak of gratefulness escaping the long-haired clone was subtle, just enough to breach through his irritation. "Perhaps a defect in your helmet, sir."

He knew he'd be in trouble later but it was worth it. Doing nothing on their ship was boring him out of his mind. Maybe he should ask you to get him some wood and wood scissors so at least his nights would be interesting instead of playing with his thumbs and doing castles with the toothpicks he found here and there.

Kayden stayed behind with Crosshair, still invisible to not disturb the guy. Not that he cared, but he was curious to see how the small mirrors he threw on the walls would help. Knowing the sniper, they were all placed perfectly where they should be even if the pattern seemed random.

He may not like the hard-ass clone very much, but he wasn't ashamed to admit that his skills were impressive. They got to the infiltration point where the others were waiting, Skywalker amongst them, and Crosshair got into position. The thought of moving the first mirror passed through Kayden's mind and prickled at his fingertips.

Hunter was a nice target to pick on. Crosshair, not so much.

The mirror stayed in place, allowing Crosshair to execute his awfully impressive shot and take down every single droid marching their way. Without an ounce of doubt, Kayden knew his face was mirroring Wrecker's.

Back in the ship, it didn't take long for Crosshair to find the crest in Wrecker's bag and shove it into Hunter's hands who closed his fist around it. Oopsie.

You piloted the ship back to the GAR base and gracefully landed in the hangar, something Tech never learned to do or didn't care to execute.

Rex and Skywalker exited the ship, the rest of the troops slower to follow.

"Nice job cyar'ika." Hunter carefully touched your helmet with his, once the two men walked out. Both your foreheads touched for a whole second and Kayden felt the bile rise in his throat.

"You boys did all the work as usual." You laughed, your hand lifting to cradle the side of his neck.

From his invisible spot near the door, Kayden saw Echo do a double-take in the corner of his eyes before following Rex down the ramp, Wrecker and Crosshair behind him.

Hunter threw the crest in the barracks, clearly hoping to keep Kayden in the ship while they had to follow their superiors.

Joke's on you! Kayden internally laughed as they stopped within his 3 klicks radius and received their praises.

Just because you were there and still felt uncomfortable whenever weird people with weird energy were around, he remained from doing shits around the hangar. Then it was time to pack up and go. He did look forward to being visible again, it did consume more energy and was a bother to not be able to pull pranks as he did before, but he could interact with people and it was worth it. Hunter's lecture would be a hassle though.

Maybe he should look around for a crate to push on someone before the fun time was over.

Echo, who apparently decided to trust you all despite not knowing the whole truth about you and him, joined the ranks of the infamous Clone Force 69. Watching you all salute, Kayden entertained the thought of kicking Crosshair behind the knee and admire him stumble to the ground. As hilarious as it seemed in his head, he couldn't find the courage to do it.

You all got in, Wrecker removed his armor, Hunter disappeared in the barracks, Tech helped you pilot and Crosshair hovered over your seat. You removed your helmet and briefly smiled up at him. He kept watching you do your stuff until the Marauder was in hyperspace and the autopilot was engaged.

Echo was still looking around, wondering what to do with himself. Kayden walked up to him, still too ghostly to be seen and waited for the right moment.

You stood up to smile once more at the grumpy clone.

"Now kiss!" Kayden loudly broke the silence as soon as he made himself visible and scared the cyborg. He closed an eye and moved his fingers so he was pushing yours and Cross' heads towards each other.

"Why are you the way you are?" You rolled your eyes with an exasperated sigh and moved around Crosshair to get to the barracks with the sniper in tow, a too familiar glare hardening his gaze.

"Do not make fun of me because I was dropped!" Kayden laughed at your retreating forms.

"Wait… I thought she was with Hunter…" Echo trailed off, confused.

"She is! But she's a girl so she's predisposed to love triangles. Ya know, like in their anatomy. Boobs, south pole. Triangle." He traced a triangle in the air, using your body as a reference.

"And wh-who are you again?" Echo inquired, frowning too deeply for his fragile features.

"The Dimwit." He winked with the most suspicious grin on his lips before vanishing into thin air.

Echo ran to the cockpit and stayed close to Tech for the whole evening.

#bad batch x reader #crosshair x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #dimwit's tale #fors #star wars #Clone Wars #clone force 99 #the bad batch

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years ago

Text

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜:

𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging nor trying to romanticize yandere behavior. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warning: Mentions of toxic relationship, yandere behavior, self harm, sexual scenes, guilt tripping, gas lighting and other forms of mental manipulation are contained within this post. Read at your own discretion.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:

𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎: 𝙹𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚈𝚞𝚗𝚑𝚘

𝙳.𝙾.𝙱: 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚑 𝟸𝟹𝚛𝚍, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟿

𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝: 𝟷𝟾𝟼 𝙲𝙼/ 𝟼'𝟷 𝙵𝚝

𝙰𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■□□□40%

𝙾𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: ■■■■■100%

𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢: ■■■■□80%

𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕: 𝙻𝚘𝚠

𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝙲𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝙳𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝙰𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚜:

• 𝙸𝚗𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 .

•𝚄𝚗𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝.

•𝙵𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

• 𝙴𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚕/ 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍.

•𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏- 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Normal Yunho at first seems like your average guy. He's very sweet, caring, playful and his close, and very few, friends he has would say that he's full of energy and smiles.

He just radiates this sunshine personality that draws people to him, although they may not stay very long.

He met you through mutual friends and acted the same as he did with others.

Albeit it's true, he was very affectionate towards you from the start, which both surprised and didn't surprise his friends.

But that doesn't mean he felt love at first sight with you.

Yunho isn't one to get overly attached right away.....yet.

It happened gradually.

He became attracted to your confident, strong and bold nature, all traits which he lacked in.

But no one knows that because he's good at hiding it.

You were also a very compassionate and empathetic person, which sealed the deal for him.

He admired you from afar, not wanting to get close to you just yet.

However, he'd get pouty and insecure whenever another man would show intentions of wanting to get close to you.

He'd whine often about it and that's how you found out he had feelings for you.

You thought it was cute, that he was cute.

So you were the one who took the first step to start a relationship.

Although shocked, Yunho was extremely happy.

As a boyfriend, he is very devoted to you, putting you above everything else, including his friends, family and health.

Everything moves really fast with him. Example:you had your first kiss on your first date.

Yunho just doesn't see why you have to wait if you two love each other.

"I feel like I've known you my whole life."

Not even 3 months later and you were already sleeping together.

Yunho sees that was the moment he went to heaven......

And that was the moment when hell started.

Yunho started becoming more and more clingy.

Texting, calling you at odd hours, asking you things like where you were, what were you doing, who you were with and if he could go see you.

He usually makes you stay till very late at his place that you have to spend the night with him.

No other option. He insists.

Even keeps spare clothes for you in a drawer he set aside just for you.

Till one day: "Why don't you just move in with me? It'll be so much easier and I could see you even more."

You hesitated, since you were barely 6 months into the relationship and you already felt smothered by his constant presence.

"I don't.... I don't know Yunho.."

He panicked at your hesitation.

"Why...why not? Don't you love me? Is it because you don't want to be around me?"

You began calming him down, trying to explain that maybe things were going to fast, but that only made him get more agitated.

It was truly terrifying for you to see him hyperventilating and choking on his own breathing like that.

Hot tears were falling rapidly down his face as he began saying:

"Why don't you love me? Is it something I did? What am I doing wrong? Tell me!"

"Yunho you did nothing wrong. You're perfect the way you are and I love you just the way you are."

He sniffled and wiped his nose on one of his sweater paws.

"Do you love me? R-really?"

You nodded your head in confirmation. But Yunho was still sulky about something.

"But then.... wha-why not move in? I p-promise you'll like it."

He looked at you with such fragile and tender eyes that you could not refuse him. So you agreed to move in with him.

Biggest mistake you made.

Even though he had his eye on you for most of the day, it wasn't enough for him.

If you were even 3 minutes home later than usual, he was badgering you with questions like:

"Who were you with? What took you so long?"

And you're like "Geez. Let me breathe."

Don't say things like that to him. He starts feeling bad and responds with things like:

"I know I'm sorry, I'm such a pathetic excuse of a boyfriend."

It honestly broke your heart to hear him say such things.

But it also irritated you how jealous he got when you hung out or even talked to another man that wasn't him.

He'd latched onto you in public if he felt you were paying more attention than he liked to another guy.

Sometimes would cause a scene that made you run back home in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry! I just can't help it! Don't you get it?! They're trying to take you away from me!"

"No! You're just an overly possessive and overly jealous boyfriend and I can't stand it anymore! I'm leaving."

"Wait what?"

Yunho watched in horror as you began packing a small bag so you could spend the night somewhere else, and pick up the rest of your stuff later.

All throughout that, Yunho begged, cried and went ballistic.

He repeated for you not to go, not to leave him.

"Y/N you don't understand....you can't leave me... I'll die, I can't live without you.."

You merely rolled your eyes at that. No one dies of a broken heart.

So you just walked out the door and rented a hotel room for the night, unaware of the mess you were about to wake up to.

You woke up bombarded by texts and missed calls from Yunho's friends:

"What did you do to him?!" "You heartless bitch!" "I hope you die if anything happens to him!" "All he did was love you and you destroyed him."

Then the hospital called you: Yunho had tried to kill himself in the night.

Your heart stopped when you found out. You felt so guilty and you felt like a monster.

Without thinking twice, you ran to the hospital to see him.

He layed there, still unconscious from the medication they gave him to calm him down.

You stayed by his side, praying that he'd wake up soon so you could apologize.

He woke up and although he looked surprise to see you....he was only feigning.

Of course you'd go out of your way to see him.

You were bawling your eyes out and holding him close, scared out of your wits at the thought that you almost lost the love of your life.

Yunho apologized, but you hushed him with a kiss, saying it wasn't his fault.

From then on, you began blaming yourself for everything....

And he made sure to remind you not to test him again.

You thought that after that talk, everything would be back to normal and you two could be a regular couple.

How stupid you were.

Life with Yunho now was like walking on thin ice all the time.

You couldn't mention anything about him that made you slightly uncomfortable because he's belittling himself with such foul words, crying to the point of hysteria....

But the worst times are when he's banging his head on a wall hard enough to draw blood, or punching the concrete wall so hard that his knuckles end up bloody and bruised.

You have a heart attack whenever that happens.

You've been so traumatized by his previous suicide attempt that any harm he does to himself sends you in a panic and you're holding him to you, comforting him and reminding him that you love him and won't ever leave him.

Then happy Yunho is back, as if nothing happened.

And he always wants you to reaffirm your love after such ordeals in the bedroom.

Yunho never ever fucks you, no matter how messed up he is.

He likes to take his time with you, going down on you or teasing you with his long fingers before he's thrusting his cock deep inside you.

Always cums inside you, always. With no protection.

It's a reminder that you belong to him and him only.

And also because he knows there's a possibility he could get you pregnant.

Which is what he wants.

If you two have a child together, it would only strengthen the bond you two have and it's another reason to tie you down to him.

And that's exactly what happened.

You were terrified and tried to conceal it for the longest time, but Yunho isn't dumb.

He was elated when he found out you were carrying his child inside of you.

Which only prompted his obsessive nature to escalate.

He made you quit your job because he wanted you to stay home to take care of your baby.

Of course, that's just an excuse to keep you from leaving the house.

You two also officially got marriage, and that was it for Yunho.

He finally succeeded in bounding you two together for life.

As a father, he doesn't mind sharing you with your new baby daughter.

He loves and adores his daughter very dearly because she is a physical manifestation of the love between him and you.

But she's the only child you two are having. There's only so many people he's willing to share you with.

To others, he's a doting and loving father and husband.

In the eyes of an outsider, you guys are the perfect family.

But you.....you stopped fighting a long time ago.

You resigned yourself to accept that this is your life now and you'd better make the best of it.

You're no longer the strong, confident and decisive woman you once were.

Yunho made sure to tear that all down to the point where you simply just act in a way that'll make him happy and won't trigger him to repeat what happened years ago...

Especially not in front of your daughter. You do not want her to experience what you did.

So the question remains.....how do you escape Yandere Yunho?

Well....... you have two choices:

Either spend the rest of your life playing into his façade of a perfect relationship, that's the easier choice.

It certainly spares you the mental, emotional and physical strain of fearing when his next suicide attempt might happen if you do anything that'll result in him degrading himself or guilt tripping you into staying with him.

Or..........kill yourself. But keep in mind that if you do, he won't be too far behind from you. In the words of Yandere! Yunho himself:

"Nothing will ever break our bond, our bond is forever. Even in death, our love will go on."

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nightshade-minho · 5 years ago

Text

-Babygirl-

Warnings: roommates!au, suggestiveness, shirtless Jisung (again), voyeurism (kind of..?), male masturbation, panty kink, implied sexual activity during driving. (Please be safe on the roads! This should never happen irl lol.)

��Jisung? JISUNG!”

The boy in question shot awake, rubbing at his eyes. He looked at you, confused.

You sighed. “You were telling me about the wedding, but you keep dozing off in between.”

“Right, right...” He said, looking like he was struggling to keep his eyes open. “I’m sorry, but it’s so late and I barely got any sleep last night. And...no offense but it’s kind of your fault.”

You nodded sheepishly. You’d spent most of last night under a really hot guy named Hyunjin that you’d met at the club, and was way too caught up in lust to care about your poor sleepy roommate.

“You really need to tone it down a bit. I bet this whole floor heard your moaning. Give it to me daddy!” He mocked, prompting you to slap his arm.

��I do NOT sound like that.”

“You do.”

You groaned, leaning back into the sofa, your hand rubbing your temple. A few seconds later, the snores resumed. You exhaled angrily, slapping Jisung’s arm to wake him.

“Ow...” he mumbled, rubbing his arm. “You’re really testing my patience, you know that? Just let me sleep in peace, babygirl.”

You knew he was mocking the way Hyunjin had called you that the previous night...but something about that word leaving Jisung’s lips had you pressing your thighs together for a moment. When you realized what you were doing, you groaned to yourself. Jisung? What were you thinking? Dude was your roommate, and not a very good one at that.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

You ran a hand through your hair, quickly standing up. “Yeah totally. Maybe you could tell me about this wedding later? I’m just going to go to my room...”

Without bothering to see his reaction, you briskly walked to your room, shutting the door and lying down on your bed. You couldn’t deny the frisson of arousal that had passed through you when he said that word. Every single person you slept with was well aware of how much you liked being called that.

You dug your head into your pillow, trying to expel these thoughts.

•••

You sat at the breakfast counter, groaning as you used the spoon to draw circles in your cold milk.

“Y/n. What happened yesterday?”

You looked up, and all sleep remaining in your eyes immediately disappeared as you took in Jisung, with nothing on but a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair was seemingly still wet from his shower. You watched as droplets of water fell from his strands onto his stomach, running down his abs...whose existence you knew nothing of prior to this moment.

“Nothing happened! I wasn’t feeling very well.”

He sat down next to you, pushing his hair back as he looked at you, an eyebrow raised. “Uh huh. I totally believe that.”

You felt uncomfortable with his intense gaze fixed on you, and felt yourself becoming very slightly wetter. Oh god...this can’t be happening.

“Honestly. I just wasn’t feeling very well. You know...the weather’s getting colder and I’ve never really had a strong immune system.”

He raised an eyebrow in concern, leaning in to rest his hand on your forehead, his face dangerously close to yours. You felt yourself turning red slightly.

He pulled away. “You feel fine to me.”

You cleared your throat. “It’s one of those sicknesses that don’t change your temperature or anything.”

He looked at you for a moment, like he was trying to figure you out. Finally he rolled his eyes, grabbing a granola bar from the shelf and unwrapping it slowly.

“So...the wedding?” You referenced what he was talking about yesterday, and his eyes widened.

“Oh! Oh yeah...well...I have a favour to ask of you.”

You raised your eyebrow. “What kind?”

“Well. I was hoping you’d come with me to my cousin’s wedding. Not exactly as a date or anything, I just want to prove to my bullshit childhood friends that there are others I talk to...and being able to introduce a pretty girl as my best friend would really put a damper on their egos.”

Pretty. He thought you were pretty.

Holding yourself together, you tapped your chin in mock curiosity. “If you have friends, how come I never see them come over?”

“Oh, they come over all the time. I just choose to invite them at times when I’m alone or you’re already asleep, cause I didn’t wanna disturb you. Trust me, one minute spent with my best friends and you would probably move to Antarctica the next day. And I need a roommate to pay the bills.”

You laughed, trying not to choke on the milk. Jisung grinned at you. “So is that a yes?”

Jisung’s enthusiasm was always contagious. You were more than alright with this, especially since it meant you got to attend a party. You nodded.

“So...are any of these friends attractive or-“

“NO!”

•••

You stared at the mirror, hoping you looked good. You had on a soft blue dress, with a heart-shaped cutout right on your chest. You felt cute and yet also a little sexy.

You turned around finally, satisfied, and made your way out of the room. Jisung was sitting on the couch, straightening his tie and glancing at his watch. You cleared your throat.

He looked up and gasped, trying and failing to hide his shock. “Wow, you look...you look...”

“Pretty?” You offered, grinning cheekily. He nodded. “What about me?” You gave him a thumbs-up.

“You look hot.”

“Oh do I, babygirl?” He said, chuckling right afterwards. There it was. That word again...you felt a jolt of pleasure run straight to your core.

You sat down next to him on the couch. “Are you never going to let that go?”

“Do you want me to?” He asked suggestively, and you almost slapped him.

“You’re such a dickhead.” He laughed, and got up, sneaking another glance at his watch. “Ok y/n, we’ve really got to go now. We’ve got about 4 hours worth of driving to do.”

You sighed and hoisted your bag over your shoulder. “4 fucking hours in a car stuck with you. It sounds like a medieval torture method...fucking unbearable.”

“Why? Because of all the sexual tension?” He joked, but you chose not to reply. How could you explain to your bastard roommate that he was making you feel things ~down there~? Living with this guy blurred enough lines as it is...if you fucked him, there was no going back.

You followed him to his car. You had decided to take turns- you would drive two hours, and then you’d stop at a restaurant for snacks before Jisung drove the rest.

As you got in the driver’s seat and fastened your seatbelt, you heard Jisung curse. “Why do my crappy relatives have to host their wedding so far from my fucking house...”

“Um, probably because it was more convenient to them and...oh yeah, it isn’t YOUR wedding?”

He rolled his eyes as he fumbled with his seatbelt. “You’re infuriating. Sometimes I wish I could just shut you up somehow.”

You don’t know where it came from, but you blurted, “I can think of a few ways to do that.”

Jisung’s eyes grew as wide as dinner plates. He’d been the one flirting nonstop- but they were half-jokes. Now that you’d actually replied to one with an innuendo of your own, he felt his pants tighten all of a sudden.

Jisung couldn’t deny that he was sexually attracted to you. After all, you were quite hot...when you weren’t chewing him out because he forgot to wash the dishes again.

He also couldn’t deny that he was slightly envious of the guys who got to fuck you.

There was an incident that happened a few months ago, which he still hadn’t talked to you about. And he probably never would...it was way too embarrassing.

Jisung had been in your room one night, to find a book of his that you had borrowed. You’d been out when he was rummaging through your bedside table trying to find it, but then suddenly he heard the front door click open...and judging from the moans his ears picked up, you and whoever you were with were going to come inside the room at any time.

As he heard the footsteps approach, he groaned, ducking under your bed and crouching under there. The door opened just then, and the moans and kissing sounds were significantly louder. He felt the bed dip, and soon unspeakable things were going on above him. He held his head in his hands, wanting to escape...but then your moans got to him. The way you whimpered and whined for the guy to take you...it made Jisung incredibly hard.

Clothes were being shed after that, and from his position, he watched as various articles of clothing rained on the floor in front of him. And then...there it was.

Your panties. They fell on top of the heap of discarded jeans and shirts...a tantalizingly red pair, reaching out to him, begging him to take them and use them.

And that’s how he succumbed, his hand reaching out to grab your underwear. As your moans from above filled his ears, he sniffed your wet panties, inhaling your heavenly scent...and hesitantly licked your juices that had rubbed off on them. He felt absolutely filthy as he got his cock out and used the fabric of your panties to get himself off, cumming at almost the same time you did.

It was a secret he hoped he could hold forever.

But now here you were, being suggestive... and he didn’t know if this was just his imagination, but he saw you clenching your thighs and getting slightly affected whenever he called you certain pet names.

What Jisung was about to do next was probably a bad idea, just like taking the red panties to his room that night and never returning them was.

He decided that he was going to try to rile you up again, and if you showed any signs of being into it...he was going to go for it.

“So...y/n.”

“Hmm?” You said as you concentrated on the road, your hand on the wheel.

“Exactly how do you want me to shut you up, babygirl?”

Ever so subtly you pressed your thighs together, your cheeks turning red. And that’s when Jisung finally decided...fuck it!

His hand slipped between your thighs and spread them apart, going to your cunt and rubbing it through your panties. His slender fingers pulled your panties to the side so that he could drag his digits over your exposed wet cunt, slowly pushing a finger inside.

You let out a shocked squeak followed by several groans, your eyes desperately staying trained on the road in front of you. “J-Jisung...what’re you doing?”

“Shutting my babygirl up, of course.”

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #kpop smut #kpop imagines #jisung smut #jisung fluff #jisung angst #han jisung smut #han smut #han fluff #han angst #stray kids

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bitchiha · 4 years ago

Text

Incompetence (Sasuke Uchiha x Maid!Reader, NSFW)

A/N: Okay so uhm... Hi nobody fucking asked for this, but I was talking to a friend about this shitty dating sim game we used to play in computer lab in elementary school where you were a maid and like you fell for this super rich spoiled guy that you worked for and it got me thinking about writing something maid related and obviously I am hoe so like it turned into this.

Summary: Sasuke’s a mean employer with a hardworking maid who is eager to please him, in more ways than you may think...

Warnings: did i srsly write about a maid licking Sasukes shoes? yes and this is your warning. NSFW. Uhm like bullying? maids r jealous lol, Sasuke being a perv, obsessive reader (yandere tendencies?), degradation, also mentions of voyeurism?? also long lol like ik i say that everytime, but this one acc is i got carried away.

You rush through the large hallways of the Uchiha mansion, the ringing of a bell echoing as you make your way through the twisting passageways. There were so many rooms, way too many, most of them were empty and only good for collecting dust. It made you wonder why they kept all the maids in such tight quarters when there were so many rooms just begging to be used—

Ring, ring, ring.

The bell cut through your thoughts and you began to quicken your pace. It was dead silent, save for the ringing of the bell (he never called for you verbally) and the pattering of your footsteps in time to the clinking of the silver trays contents in your hands. The ringing slowly begins to get louder as you move closer to the youngest Uchihas room. Trying your hardest not to disturb the contents atop the tray, you attempt to slow down, but as if your master somehow knew you had slowed your pace, the bell began to ring more frantically.

Finally after what felt like hours, you arrive in front of your Masters study, expertly shifting the trays contents onto one hand and opening the door with the other.

Sasuke immediately speaks, not even bothering to wait for you to walk through the threshold. “You’re late.”

It was difficult to breathe under your corseted maids dress - yet alone muster a response as you stared at him. He made no point to be discrete as he eyed at your heaving chest, breasts on display as they peaked out from the lace adorned neckline. Your older outfit had fit you much better and was much more modest; having buttons sealing fabric all the way up your neck, but Sasuke insisted that you needed a new when he assigned you to your new position... one with some modifications.

He had said that it was because the old skirt was too long and you couldn’t possibly do your work in it. Not to mention how your collar looked so tight it seemed as if you were choking. At the time you hadn’t bothered arguing against it, he was your employer after all, but there was obvious flaws to his explanation. For one; your skirt had only been slightly above your knees, the same length as all the other maids and secondly, you weren’t being choked by your collared shirt, it actually fit you quite comfortably.

You realize now though, with this new skirt that barely covered your ass that he had done it more for his own sake. It was embarrassing to be around your colleagues in this new outfit and you begged Sasuke to reconsider, but he wouldn’t budge. That’s why you had begun trying to avoid the other maids, entering the kitchens when you were sure most of them were gone.

Many of them had become more than a little bit jealous of your closeness to the handsome Uchiha and a few of the girls had even went as far as to call you dirty names behind your back. From what you overheard almost everyone of the staff members was referring to you as Sasukes pet, some members adding the word slutty in there too. You wanted to scream and tell them that it wasn’t true, but you preferred ignoring them instead.

That’s why you were so late in bringing him his food today, you were trying to avoid the petty insults from any staff members nearby. Sasuke seemed as though he didn’t care about your workplace troubles, though as leaned back in his comfortable office chair; enjoying your flustered face as his eyes now began to rake over your thighs, the lace garters of your stockings peaking out teasingly from the frills of the skirt.

“I-I’m sorry!” You finally managed to spit out, bowing forwards while still standing at the frame of the door, items on the tray protesting as you surged forward.

“Tch, you’re going to spill something like that and you know what you’re supposed to address me as little maid, where’s your respect for your master?” The master was spat out in such a taunting tone that you didn’t even have to look up to know he was smirking to himself. He had a nice nice view of your tits from behind his desk and it was an even better one when you bent forward like that, too flustered to notice the indecency. And to think you were such a modest girl...

“I... My apologies, master!” You corrected yourself and straightened up.

Entering the room, you began to move towards where the young man was sitting behind his lavish desk his gaze set intensely upon you. It felt like you were some little peasant girl, walking up to the prince in all his glory as he lounged atop of the throne, scowling at the meek sacrifice you had held in your hands... He always made you feel so small and the walk to his desk feeling like an eternity. You bend forward as you finally reach his desk, placing the tray atop the surface. He snarled displeased.

“Don’t place it over my desk, you incompetent little thing. Bring it around and put it right in front of me.”

You were too stung by his insult to remark that he always instructed you to put the tray over his desk like that. Incompetent little thing... You weren’t even that much younger than him, Sasuke was twenty; just two years older than yourself and incompetent you most certainly were not. You were always doing anything and everything he asked, everyone of Sasukes previous maids had barely lasted a few days before being fired, so far you’ve lasted a few weeks. Besides, all the other Uchihas thought highly of you and considered you a hard worker, the other staff had agreed at one point as well. That’s why - or at least that’s why you used to think - Sasuke had demanded his parents to make you his own personal maid.

But now his intentions had begun to seem foggy to you. Not that you necessarily minded that his intentions were blurred. You’d always had a little bit of an infatuation with him. Ever since you started working here you had clung to Sasuke like a moth to a light bulb. Always yearning to please him, even if his actions were always more than a little bit cold toward you, maybe even a little bit strange too. So if the blurred lines allowed you some room to fantasize you couldn’t really complain.

“...Sorry, master.” You managed to say as you moved the tray upwards again. Mind still racing with your own thoughts, you felt the heat creeping up your face as you walking around the desk.

Pushing his chair backwards he silently signalled for you to stand infront of him. Your heart began to beat rapidly and you felt yourself gulp harshly. His body was so close to your own... Once you managed to make your way between his legs and the chair, which was pulled out just enough to allow you through, you once again bent forward to put down the tray. He was silent as you did so, allowing you to prepare the food ontop of it. Gradually you had begun to focus back on the task infront of you, oblivious to his hand trailing up your thigh, busying yourself with pouring his tea.

“Huh. What a naughty girl you are, bending over and showing your master your panties like this...” His long fingers hooked themselves between one of your garters and pulled at the material, releasing it to let the band slap harshly against your thigh.

You squeaked in surprise, a stinging sensation dancing along your flesh. Oh no. You began to twist around hurriedly, you forgot about how short the skirt was. You hope he won’t fire you for the indecency. “Master, I’m so sorry-“

Your hand made contact with something cold atop the tray as you turned, a loud clank resounded in the room as the object made contact with the floor. With horror you looked down to see the small jug of milk, which you had brought for the tea had spilt all over the marble floor and onto Sasukes shoes too. Knowing better than to speak after such a mistake like this, you just stood there with your hands covering your mouth in shock. His shoes. Oh god. They must be more expensive than your salary. Oh god. Will he make you pay for them? You won’t be able to. Oh god-

“Well are you going to clean this up or just stare like a shocked little bitch?” He spat, shifting in his chair as he saw the tears pricking your eyes. Although you wished his words would have been something a little less mean, you were still glad for some sort of instruction on what you should do. You also couldn’t ignore the heat pooling in your core at his words.

“Right, I’m so sorry, I...” you clambered to your knees, which was difficult because Sasuke refused fo move his chair out any further, forcing you to bend at weird angles to finally get onto the floor. You were stretched forward on all fours infront of his shoes, your ass sitting on the back of your calves and your eyes blurring. Your body was as low to the floor as possible; as if you could sink through the floor and escape the embarrassment you were feeling right now. Then when you were finally in a somewhat comfortable position you reached for the cloth which you always kept in your tiny aprons pocket, but Sasukes voice stilled you.

“Don’t. I want you to clean it up with your tongue, that’s what incompetent little maids deserve.”

You stared at up at him dumbfounded. Sure Sasuke pushed you around a lot, but he never made you do anything like this before. But behind his anger you could see the glint of mischief in his eyes. Was this a test? Was he seeing how far you’d go for him? You didn’t want to pay for his shoes out of your own pocket, but more importantly you didn’t want him to replace you-

The thought of him replacing you made your tongue decisively slip out of your mouth. Without a second thought you swooped your head downward and began to lick the drops of milk off of his shoe. You had to hold back the gag building up within you as you felt the leathery material against your tongue mixing with the salt of the stray tears in your eyes. You didn’t want to disappoint him and you hoped he wasn’t too angry with you. You could do better, you could do so much better for him. You watched his face twist into satisfaction and your heart lurched with glee in your chest.

His look giving you a nice boost of confidence, allowing you to easily move onto the other shoe, swallowing down your urge to gag. Once you had successfully managed to lick everything off you bent even lower, head moving to the floor, but the tip of sasukes shoe caught your chin; forcing you to look back up at him.

“You can use the cloth for the floor. Gosh, I knew you were eager to please me, but I didn’t think you’d go that far.” His tone was degrading yet there was some satisfaction in the mix, even a little shock. It made your face burn as you retrieved the cloth, wiping up the rest of the mess, cleaning your mouth with the back of your hand.

Statsified with how clean the floor was, you grabbed the now empty jug and attempted to stand upright; struggling slightly considering how little space Sasuke had given you. You only managed to get to your knees before he grew impatient, grabbing you by your underarms and hoisting you to your feet like a rag doll. When he touched you, you felt your skin erupt into goosebumps and it felt as if a whole flock of birds were shooting around in your stomach. His hands were so soft and warm... One of them came to pat your cheek before retracting to pat his lap. Confused at what he meant, you just stood in front of him.

“Tch, Come on now... I didn’t think you were that stupid.”

When you still didn’t respond his hands snaked around your thighs, lifting one so that it was seated on one side of his legs. Losing your balance at this sudden action, you braced your arms against the top of the office chairs back; allowing him to lift your other thigh easily. This time he pretended to ignore the clambering of the jug falling to the floor again. Your legs were sprawled out on his lap. You were sitting on your masters lap! Oh, you were sitting on your masters lap!.. You were sitting on Sasuke Uchihas lap! The boy who you’ve been head over heels for since you first laid eyes on him. Your face felt as if it were on fire and you let out a needy whimper, making Sasuke laugh.

“Do you want to make your master feel good, y/n?” You nodded your head and he snickered at your eagerness, his face was so close to yours that you could feel his breath fanning over your lips.

Make him feel good? Yes, yes, yes. you’ll do whatever he asked. “Yes sir! I’ll... I’ll wash your floors twice a day now and I’ll.. I’ll wash your sheets every day, anything! Anything for you, I’ll prove to you that I’m not incompetent. Anything, anything to make you feel good—“

Gosh. You really were stupid, did you not get what he meant? Nonetheless, your unwavering devotion was really turning him on and he didn’t know how much longer he could wait to slip his dick into you... he interrupted your ramble by bringing his hands down to grip your waist, bringing your hips down to grind directly against something hard.

You stopped speaking coherently as he continued, the feeling of your cunt against that hardness had your promises to shine his shoes every hour turn into incoherent gasps and babbles. Sasuke continued to bring your hips down against what you realized after a few moments was his hardened cock. Was he really doing this? Oh, it felt so good.

“Tch, you really are pathetic, getting off so quickly and I’ve barely even done anything to you... besides, aren’t you supposed to be the one making your master feel good?” Before you could blabber out another unintelligible sentence, Sasuke saved your brain the effort. His hands moving off of your hips in exchange for one cupping coming up to cup your jaw and the other resting on the back of your neck, pushing you forwards to let his lips smash onto yours.

The second his lips made contact with yours you moaned into his mouth and Sasuke let out another one of his mocking laughs against your lips. With the hand on your jaw he let his thumb slide down to your chin, pushing down on it so as to have your mouth grant his tongue access. You didn’t put up much of a fight against his muscle, easily letting him win and explore at his own will.

He took his time too, which didn’t help much with your already soaked core or the occasional uncontrollable shaking of your legs against his thighs, but that’s what he wanted. Breathing through his nose he kept violating your mouth with his tongue to the point where you couldn’t help it anymore. You were begging against his mouth, which he refused to remove from your own.

“Master... Sir... Sasuke... please, please, please I beg you please!” Was what you were trying to say against his mouth, but it came out all funny and it made him laugh again. Your face felt hot, your eyes began to get watery again and before you knew it you were grinding your hips onto his erection.

One of Sasukes hands remained at the back of your neck while the other moved to palm at your breast, which made you moan desperately into his mouth again. The fact that your panties had been soaked from the second you stepped into the room and the fact that you were actually touching the boy that you had fantasies about in the maids quarters after dark made your brain short circuit... Everything felt so good, he felt so good. It was like sparks of pleasure were firing in your brain everytime your core stroked over his cock and the feeling of his wet tongue licking up every crevice of your mouth... All that being said, before you really knew what was happening your body was spasming and you were making uncontrollable noises that Sasukes mouth swallowed generously and they became nothing more than little “hmphs” and “mmphs” amidst the creaking of his office chair.

Shortly after you came Sasuke pulled away, drool from both his spit and your own pooled down your chin. You looked as though he had just fucked you silly, when in reality you creamed yourself from him sticking his tongue down your throat gosh, this was gold. “Did you just fucking cum?.. I haven’t even put my dick in you yet.” You turned your head away embarrassedly, but he immediately grabbed your jaw and made you face him again. “You don’t get to be embarrassed after that little show. Your gonna ride me now and let’s hope this time you don’t cum in fifteen seconds.” You felt tears brimming your eyes at his meanness, but the new addition of slick added to your soaked panties hadn’t gone unnoticed. Despite your first orgasm, you already felt the bitter ache between your thighs begin to build up again.

With Sasukes hand still on your jaw, the other gripped the hem of your dress that was covering his view of your ruined underwear, holding the bunched fabric of the skirt to your mouth. “Say, Ah.” He said mockingly, shoving the fabric into your mouth once you opened it, waiting for you to clamp your teeth down on it before resuming his touching. He wanted to leave the dress on while he fucked into your cunt; after all, he’s thought about taking you in it too many times to count.

With the fabric out of his way now, he could see your stomach and your simple pink panties that he knew were completely destroyed now. He took your hands and guided them to his belt, silently instructing you to unbuckle it. You got the hint from there and once that was done you worked at his pants. There was spit pooling in your mouth now from the fabric sitting in it and you tried to swallow some of the saliva down, but it made a weird sucking sound and it just made Sasuke laugh at you for what seemed like the hundredth time, but this laugh seemed to be a bit sweeter; lulling your all too pliable mind into a false sense of security.

He lined himself up with your entrance and you felt your legs begin to shake against his thighs again. You could feel the spit pooling in your mouth again at the fabric and you practically choked with anticipation, but to your disappointment he didn’t make any other move to sheath himself inside you.

“M-master?” You asked confusedly through frills of fabric. Why did he stop? Your legs were shaking too hard that you couldn’t stop them from giving out, forcing your cunt to take all of Sasukes cock at once.

It hurt. He wasn’t too thick, more so he was long and despite his zero effort, his cock had somehow managed to hit all the right places as you slid down onto it. Knowing now that he wasn’t going to help you as he rested his hands on the armrest of his office chair with an impassive look; eyes trained on the spot where his dick met your pussy, you began to desperately roll your hips.

He had to bite back his noise, not wanting to give you any sort of satisfaction from him. You were working his cock good though, it felt as though you had been hit with a new amount of energy as you continued you bounce yourself on his lap. It reminded him of what you would do to yourself at night.

“That’s it, just like that.. just like how you hump your pillow at night.” You stilled your movement at that comment, your heart dropping. He... he knew about that?

“Whadda ya’ look so surprised for? I like to check up on my little maid some times,” you ignored the fact that you only did those nasty things late into the night when all the other nurses were sound asleep and that he came to watch you in the middle of the night. It also clicked that the sound of grunting outside the door wasn’t one of the maids odd snoring in the second room... “humping into your pillow and panting out ‘Sasuke, Sasuke..’ you’re fucking disgusting.” He snickered again, cock twitching inside you at that deer in the headlights look you were giving him, he couldn’t help but give his hips a firm buck, causing you to mewl pathetically.

The shock of pleasure knocked you out of that state of surprise and into another one full of pleasure as you began rolling your hips into him again. Still, another few tears had pooled down your cheeks, Sasuke - to your surprise - bent forward to lick them off your pretty little face.

“You’re disgusting you really are.. and a fucking freak too. I’ve heard what the staffs been saying about you, telling them that we’re gonna get married, you wanna have my kids.. I’ve heard you’re a mean one too. Calling other maids names when they were told to do tasks for me. What did you call them? sluts, playthings... scaring everyone away from the position of my personal maid. You naughty girl...”

Your heart was dropping at everything he was saying. You don’t want him to be mad at you. You were doing it because you wanted him to yourself, that you loved him, you loved him... “I love you Sasuke!! I love you, I love you, I love you, I did it all for us! For you.” You choked out between sobbing fits and gaps for breath as your legs began to shake again.

Your movements became sloppy as you felt that knot in your stomach tighten. Falling against his chest you buried your face into his neck trying to chase your high, Sasukes hands still resting on the arm rest of his chair and hardly making any sounds other than words of degradation. But you didn’t care, the twitching of his cock in your tight pussy was enough to motivate you.

“I’ll make you cum, I’ll make you feel so good. Nobody else can, but me. I love you, I love you-“ Sasuke shut you up by grabbing your hips and slamming them down against his own at a harsh pace. He loved hearing your confessions of undying love for him, but your legs were so shaky they could barely move anymore and he needed a release.

You came as soon as he began to take control, the spasms of your cunt helped make sure he wasn’t far behind. Fucking as deep as he could, the sounds of your shaky voice muttering about how thankful you were for him helped push him over the edge and he came with a small grunt.

For a few minutes after he came, the two of you layed still like that. You thinking about how you could die right now and feel as though your dreams had been fulfilled and Sasuke thinking about how he could do with making your skirt a little bit shorter.

#naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto headcanons #naruto x reader #sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke imagine #sasuke uchiha imagine #naruto imagine

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

Attached: Hurtful Words Pt.1

Type: (mini)-series, Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 5600

Summary: Stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

You knew for a fact that it was a load of BS. The truth is that words can break your heart. And that realization hits you full force the day you have your last exam to earn your bachelor degree.

If you pass, it will be a cause for great celebration. Spoiler alert: it’s not.

A/N: Attached: Hurtful Words is an addition that loosely followes the series. Will be in two (or three) parts. You don’t necessarily need to read the mini-series as a whole, but you will understand much better.

Warnings: I did something in here which I’m usually trying to avoid at any cost; in this story, I used Y/N Y/L/N. Does that count as a warning?

Warnings II: name calling, humiliation, panic attack!, bad poetry, mentions of vomiting and alcohol, the briefest mention of self-harm, angst, swearing, threats of violence

Story masterlist

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You released the breath you had been holding, all your willpower put into not sinking into the chair in relief as Professor Phillips announced your grade – one that meant that you hadn’t failed.

In fact, you had just passed your last exam of your bachelor program so you were entirely in the right. In your head, an overexcited monkey started playing cymbals and you didn’t mind the noise despite how sleep-deprived you were from the past few days. A barely contained mad smile fought its way to your lips instead.

Mind you, as you thanked Professor Phillips and rose to your feet – your knees almost giving out, because HOLY SHIT YOU JUST GOT YOUR BACHELOR’S – you would swear you saw a brief smile on the professor’s face too as if he was amused at your antics.

But who cared if he was having fun at your expense?! You PASSED! You had been losing sleep, terrified of this exam, because everyone knew Phillips was a hard-ass – a fair one, but still a hard-ass – and you just passed his examination!

Time to pop the fucking champagne! The one Penny had been saving at the dorm from yesterday when she had finished her own degree; she insisted that she would wait for you, because you were in this together.

You couldn’t leave her waiting any longer and you didn’t have any intention to do so.

Leaving the room and walking into the empty hallway – because of course you came the last as if to prolong your torture – you breathed in and out and deliberately let the grin finally spread on your face fully.

You were free, you were ready to take on the world despite not being ready at all and you had Steve, who you suspected would be proud as hell and would celebrate with you tomorrow, graciously letting you and your roomie do it first-- and gosh, life was beautiful.

Making your way down the corridor, with a grin ever-present, a leaflet that hadn’t been there before caught your attention. It appeared a handwritten note, styled in a regular column – a poem perhaps.

Still smiling, the curiosity took the best of you and you walked to it, peripherally noticing that along the walls, there was even more.

You froze in your step when your gaze fell on the first line; your very own name was staring back at you and it confused you at first, a brief surge of excitement lighting up your body, a naïve belief that perhaps Steve somehow decided to surprise you.

But Steve’s last name came next, which you found strange.

And then came the word ‘whore’ and your heart stopped, your gaze automatically flickering all over the page.

Your stomach made a painful somersault, your mind turning blank.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of that nightmare materializing in front of you, reading and re-reading the poem that almost resembled a twisted nursery rhyme over and over.

Y/N Y/L/N Rogers’ whore Bet she’ll get The highest score For sucking dick Having fucked her ass Let’s hope she’ll soon Be eating grass

Darkness battled to cut off your vision, the world swaying off of its place. Involuntarily, your trembling hand reached out and touched the paper, smooth under your fingertips, your frantically beating heart and the vertigo threating to overpower your sense of balance tying you to the reality, screaming at you that this wasn’t just a really fucked-up dream.

You tore the paper down, lump growing in your throat as you looked around for watchful eyes in sudden paranoia of being followed, only to find the hallway deserted aside from you.

Just you and many papers hanging on the walls.

As if you were just a puppet to a spiteful master, your feet carried you to the next leaflet, tears filling your eyes as you found the very same words written on it; a precise copy.

Your breathing picked up a furious pace, your chest crushed under a weight of an invisible elephant stomping on it. The corridor swam in the dampness of your eyes, your mind too quiet and yet screaming with millions of question marks and exclamation points, panic squeezing your lungs, nausea attacking your stomach.

What the hell was happening? Who would do that? Why? What was the goal? Was it just to ruin your triumph?

Because if that was the goal, it was a roaring success; the thousands of questions swirling in your head and the unexpected sting in your heart turned the fact that you had passed an exam into a faint memory.

All you saw was the words.

Rogers’s whore

Was that what you were? Was that how people who knew about the relationship saw you? Was that how Steve saw you?

The highest score for sucking dick

Was that what you were doing? Using Steve’s position to your advantage? Was that how you got through every exam including the one today, even if unwittingly? Was that what Phillips’ little smile had been about?

Hope she’ll soon be eating grass.

Was that a threat? Was someone wishing that happened to you or were they actually about to hurt you? Why?!

Hearing your own wheezing and feeling your fingertips prickling, your foggy mind did the only reasonable thing it could come up with; it led your steps into the nearest bathroom at lightning speed with no regard for how shaky were your feet.

You stumbled into the open stall, smashing the door shut and leaning onto them with your suddenly damp forehead, feeling the cold beads of sweat gather in your hairline, your cheeks drenching in tears.

When did you start crying so hard?

When did the trembling in your limbs begin?

What the fuck was happening?

What-how--why-but-

Your palms rested on the door as you desperately tried and failed to ground yourself and take control of your breathing. Your temples were pounding irritatingly, your gut painfully clenching--- and exactly in that moment that could have lasted a second or an hour, your fingers brushed over a piece of paper stuck on the door.

Darkness curled around your brain like a treacherous friend, another wave of nausea twisting your stomach.

It took you one blurry glance at the paper and you knew precisely what it was, choking on your sob, ripping the offensive poem off and tearing it to pieces which you blindly threw to the toilet, the flushing sound deafening to your ears.

Your shaky legs finally gave out, knees buckling, your body sliding down the stall wall, fingers pulling at your hair as you felt the dizziness engulfing your head, a bitter taste in your mouth.

You gripped tighter, hoping that the pain on the surface would overpower the pain and gaping hole inside, as another violent sob erupted from your throat.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

An eternity later, you felt your whole being float.

Your breathing was still frantic and interrupted with sobs, but a sensation resembling serenity spread in your very core—or perhaps it was just numbness?

You couldn’t seem to be able to tell the difference anymore.

The creak of a door made you cover your mouth to muffle the noises still escaping your lips for the fear of being caught – either being found in this state in general or found as in found by the person who wrote---that – being stronger than the subdued power of your previous breakdown.

It was probably too late for the newcomer to miss your presence, but over the slowly fading ringing in your ears, you could hear a few steps that came to a halt and then they sounded a bit quicker as the woman left.

Thank FUCK. You couldn’t do human interaction of any kind right now.

You removed your hand and breathed out shakily, blinking away the tears.

Shaking your head wildly, you gritted your teeth in a feeble attempt at bolster yourself. You had to get up off your ass and leave before there would be no longer way of avoiding a confrontation – god forbid a confrontation with Steve, who was probably still in a class, testing his own students.

You climbed to your feet, wiping the remains of your tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand and went to fix your ruined make-up, hopefully enough to look little less suspicious when walking through the campus.

It was probably a vain effort, because you were a walking epitome of a mess.

Rogers’s whore, sounded in your ears and you shook your head again, inhaling sharply through your mouth.

It was time to run and then break down again at the dorms. With Penny preferably--or did she think you were a whore too? You were fucking a professor after all-

Stop that!

Penny wasn’t like that. She understood. She’d be willing to listen all about this outrageous act of terror and would sympathize. Right?

Yeah, you’d talk about it with Penny, your amazing friend, who needed a celebration and a very generous amount of alcohol, which happened to be exactly what you needed too.

Yep, that sounded pretty good.

With one last determined glance on your horrible reflection in the mirror, you headed out.

The door nearly hit you in the face on its way back as you threw it open and froze in the doorway.

You did not expect to see someone so soon after leaving your improvised safe space… let alone him.

“Prof-professor Wilson,” you choked out, clearing your scratchy throat as he stood there, unmistakably waiting for you.

Because that was what you needed at the moment. The university counsellor and professor of psychology in one person.

Fuck.

He said you name in a mild tone, almost as if trying to tame a wild animal, but not quite – all his voice made you feel was shame at getting caught. And a bit of anger at the whole fucking world, because why couldn’t you have a tiny piece of peace after seeing that? Just a little shred of luck, huh?!

Oh, right, you were a whore who were only using Professor Rogers, paying for it in sexual favours.

“Mind if we talk in my office for a bit?”

“Not like I really have a choice…” you mumbled automatically, the realization of how rude it sounded dawning to you oh too slowly, your brain too tangled up in a web of self-pity and self-loathing. “Sorry. Of course. Lead the way.”

“Good. Thank you,” he replied, appearing unoffended. “And for the record, you do have a choice.”

Hadn’t you been a wreck with burning tear-stained cheeks, your face might have felt hotter at the kind remark.

At the slowest pace possible, you followed Professor Wilson to his office, dread and exhaustion filling every fibre of your being.

You noticed however that the walls that had been lined with odes about you, put up for everyone to see, had disappeared; possibly Wilson’s own work.

Somehow, it didn’t make you feel much better, the image of the previous addition to the corridors’ decor stuck in your brain. But hey, it was supposed to be the thought that counted, right?

And Professor Wilson was a nice guy. He offered you a drink – sadly a non-alcoholic one – attempted a joke saying that no, it was no trouble getting you one, which was the reason he offered.

Generally, he treated you as if he wanted to provide you with a safe space.

And then he kindly told you that he knew about the poem, because his cousin who’s in her first year here at the uni, texted him what the heck was the e-mail she received on her uni account about.

In other word, he gently broke to you that whoever had done this possibly sent it to every student in the database too.

You nearly threw up hearing that; the pit you had climbed up from and of which edge you were balancing, deepened. But you didn’t fall back there.

Yet.

It was probably because you were still too shocked at the information.

“I hate asking that question, but do you have any idea who did this?” Wilson asked quietly and you had nothing but a helpless shake of a head for a reply. You felt your vision blurring, dizziness fogging your brain again. “Can you think of anyone who holds a grudge against you for some reason?”

A scoff escaped your lips, cynical as you found the answer obvious from the verses.

“Besides dating Steve, you mean?” you noted sarcastically. Wilson waited for more, his eyebrows twitching in surprise and expectation before he got it under control. “Sorry, I meant Professor Rog-“

“Hey, you can call him Steve,” he assured you, so damn sweet and diligent. “I met him, you know, I’d go as far as calling him a friend. And right here, right now, he is not your professor, but your boyfriend. I’m talking to you as a counsellor so feel free to call me Sam if you’re comfortable. And to answer your question, I assume that it is as good motive as any, but the fact that the two of you are dating is practically a public knowledge at this point, so it doesn’t really narrow our field of suspects.”

Despite his openness and kind approach, you once again could only shrug, growing desperate by the minute. The urge to leave – because suddenly it made even more sense, him taking you here, he was friends with Steve, he was stalling – became unbearable.

You didn’t have the strength to see Steve now. You couldn’t. You would question every gesture, analyse everything and perhaps came to the conclusion that he agreed with the author of the poem and you desperately didn’t want that. You needed to forget about this, preferably with an unhealthy amount of alcohol, you needed to cry some more, you needed ice-cream and a hug and to bitch about everything and you needed a fucking nap that would last at least a week.

“I don’t know who hates me that much, I swear. Can I please go now?”

Sam cocked his head to side, a minute frown creasing his brows. “Is that what you want?”

Do you really want to leave before Steve gets a chance to get here?

You should probably feel guilty. You wanted to feel guilty, because that was you being a coward and it was downright mean to Steve, who would no doubt learn about this very soon and from someone else, but you didn’t have the capacity to think about anything at all besides feeling like you were going to explode any second.

“Yes. Thanks for being nice and all, but I—I’d rather go.”

“You have a roommate? A friend you live with and who’s in?” he fussed, voice gravely, amiable chocolate eyes observing you with worry. Did he think you were about to hurt yourself? Did you look like the type? Were you? You mentally shook your head. Jesus.

“Yeah,” you creaked, already rising to your feet, endlessly grateful that he was letting you go. “Penny. We— uhm, we were supposed to go celebrating.”

You nearly choked on the last word, feeling like everything but going out tonight. The idea of going out and facing all the stares cause by the widely-spread e-mail made your stomach clench.

You kinda lost the appetite to celebrate anything to begin with; all the relief and joy, which had filled every last bit of your being post-learning your grade, vanished and was replaced by a dark sticky substance filling your lungs, your gut, your veins, muffling the outside world.

Perhaps Penny would agree to a loud night in?

“You can still do that, that’s up to you. But please, get some sleep and don’t be alone. Here,” he stood up as well, handing you a card. “My number, even if you just need to talk to a sort-of outsider and word-vomit all over someone, okay?”

You couldn’t argue with his offer – you had a feeling you’d vomit soon, either verbally or literally. Still, you charmed a shaky smile that probably turned out a grimace.

“K. Thanks… Sam.”

“Any time.”

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Of course, Wilson’s unspoken question about moving quick to avoid an encounter with certain professor was painfully on point.

You bailed on Steve whom you were supposed to wait for even if just for a hug and congratulations, practically running to the dorm, your unsteady feet and tears still clouding your vision be damned.

You ignored the ringing of your phone, assuming it was Steve himself; bile rose to your throat at the idea of hearing his voice at that moment. He tried twice before you smashed the power button and threw the phone back to your purse, breathing out in relief and wanting to puke at the same time.

You truly couldn’t find the capacity to deal with him momentarily – you needed to be alone and safe from any prying eyes, preferably in the comfort of your shared dorm with Penny. You cried harder when you finally reached it, your feet hurting from attempting to run in heels.

It wasn’t hard to figure out that Penny somehow already knew, probably from the e-mail – it was written all over her face. And hadn’t her expression been enough, instead of a celebratory champagne she handed you a shot of a transparent liquid the moment you opened the door.

You turned it bottoms up without questioning it and asked for another. Penny grabbed the bottle of vodka waiting on the shoe rack and poured one for you and one for herself. You didn’t bother clinking the glasses.

Though the burn in your throat felt pleasant, it did nothing to sooth the burn in your eyes and heart. Penny’s embrace made it a bit better.

So did the third shot of vodka.

You didn’t switch on your phone that day again – and when it was nearing midnight, after a four-hour nap, you convinced Penny to go celebrate to the Freddy’s as you had originally planned to do. You pretended that no one stared at you and instead you danced and drank until your mind was swimming enough for the sorrow and anger to drown.

You were one lucky bitch to have Penny walk you home.

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Steve was sitting at his desk at the faculty office he shared with Bucky and was working hard at what he excelled at for these past days despite his genuine efforts at not doing so; getting absolutely nothing done at all.

His hands had grown somewhat unsteady, a reflection of how he was feeling, how torn and absurdly broken he had become. He was spilling drinks on a regular basis, items kept falling from his flimsy hold. His brain felt foggy these days as well, most likely a consequence of the shitty sleep he was getting.

His bed felt too big despite his rather large frame and too cold despite his body temperature usually running almost too high; the sheets smelled strange and foreign despite being his own and the bed screamed with emptiness on a volume that kept interrupting his already deficient sleep.

Four days.

Four days since one stupid poem knocked his world out of its orbit and everything that mattered crashed down. Well, perhaps not everything, Steve happened to like his job too and he still had it, but such detail seemed insignificant; it certainly did in comparison to the fact that he had been attempting and had failed to reach you.

Calls.

Texts.

Few e-mails when he felt particularly helpless and frustrated.

His messed up sleeping and eating schedule and the irregularity that came with the exam period would make a perfect case of him losing any notion of time – yet Steve knew about every second without you, practically counting them.

He could still see Sam Wilson standing outside the classroom he had been testing students’ knowledge in as if it happened yesterday. He could recall with painfully stark clarity the unreadable expression on his face and the ominous “Steve, man… we need to talk.”

Steve still remembered Tony Stark waltzing in the next day with a baby in some sort of a front backpack, agitated that someone had gotten into the database, let alone to send all the hate-emails, and how he announced he found the culprit and their accomplices in an hour, which apparently happened to be too long to his liking.

Steve would smile at the memory of the technical genius’ antics, but the gaping hole in his chest caused by the deafening silence from you prevented it. Hell, not even the vivid picture of Carol Danvers from the faculty of law, moonlighting like a member of the legal department of the university, made the corners of his lips rise.

And hadn’t it been quite a show, a downright uplifting experience.

Steve was watching the screen with a frown, a stone-solid clench to his jaw and a firm clench to his fists.

It was almost amusing really; Bucky kept going about Fury being a creep and not a spy, but despite the lack of a one-way glass, the space Carol and the girl was in – just like two other rooms, each with one man – resembled an interrogation room. Steve never had been more grateful for audio and video feed in his life, but he sure as hell wasn’t laughing in delight at being proved right.

In fact, it had been taking all of his willpower not to burst into those rooms and give a piece of his mind to every single person guilty of being involved in hurting you. In causing his life to collapse on itself.

Steve couldn’t quite recall the brunet Carol was roasting, but he suspected he had seen her in one of the classes he was teaching. She didn’t stand out from the crowd of students and he didn’t see anything special about her worth remembering; then again, he tended to forget to take notice of other pretty faces ever since he had laid his eyes on yours.

And right now, all he saw was a face of a vicious bitch who forced you into pushing him away and a single look at her had his blood boiling.

Steve truly wanted to punch the living daylights of her and that said something, because he prided himself in having moral objection to hitting women, especially from sheer anger.

However, the desire was growing with each piece of information he learned. Because Yvonne Whatever-Is-Her-Name was a piece of work for fucking certain.

She talked a guy number one, whom she was attending Introduction to Social Studies 101 and who had a very apparent teenage-like crush on her, into reaching out to his friend, guy number two, whom he often played some online video game with, into hacking the database, sending the e-mails and finding out when and where exactly your exam was, just so Yvonne herself could redecorate the corridors and bathroom and make sure you wouldn’t miss her work of art.

Carol was alternating between visiting each of the ‘suspects’ and man, did they sing like birds.

Steve wanted to strangle them all, but fuck, the hatred for Yvonne Burton specifically was already consuming him and gnawing at his very soul; yes, he found out her last name just so he knew his mortal enemy. He was going to burn her to the ground, one way or the other… not that Carol hadn’t been doing a fine job so far.

That damn brunet had tears running down her face, sobbing occasionally, but still rarely sassing back. Somehow, seeing her like that wasn’t half as satisfying as Steve hoped, because his mind kept wandering to you and wondering if you looked about the same and every time such picture formed in his head, he hated Ms.Burton a fraction more.

She had used a guy who liked her, which Carol blatantly pointed out. The lawyer didn’t seem to hold back her own snark if the question about how the culprits met – via some forum for bruised ego, was it? – was anything to go by.

“I might be a lawyer, but I’m begging for every art professor and author I know – stay away from poetry. What you wrote is a child’s rhyme really, but like every writing, it says a lot about who you are. And it gives me a plenty of ammunition. We have two names, one full, one last name pointing out a specific person from the context. If I play my cards right, we have defamation on our hands, libel to be precise. Congratulation,” Carol remarked in a surprisingly calm voice. The other woman visibly paled. Good. “And what about the last line? Is that… is that a threat of violence? I can make it harassment, but if I try hard enough, perhaps we can consider it something more serious…?”

“You don’t get to threaten me! You’re lying! I’ve done nothing wrong and so serious!” the girl – and really, in Steve’s eyes, she was nothing but a stupid girl who somehow managed to kick his life in its balls – exploded, jumping to her feet.

Carol levelled her with a glare and an irritated hiss. “Sit down.” Burton did, clammy hands curled up in trembling fists. “And you’ve done more than enough.”

“You don’t understand!”

“Oh don’t I? Be my guest then. Explain it. Your motivation, the legal side, anything. I’m all ears.”

“I love him!” the girl exclaimed and Steve grinded his teeth as a surge of rage shooting through his veins.

Like fucking hell she did. He didn’t remember even talking to her if he ever had to start with and she loved him?!

Was that really what this was about? This girl somewhat liked him and got obsessed? Decided to wreck his girlfriend? To what end? To drive the two of you apart? To make you hate him so he would run to her? To simply ruin your future? What the fuck was wrong with her?! She was a damn kid with hurt pride and zero efforts put in so far, because he couldn’t even remember her-

“Oh you really don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t have done this,” Carol responded with a cold edge to her voice, apparently agreeing with Steve’s thoughts and being equally unimpressed with Ms.Burton dramatic confession.

“I’m fighting for him! Ain’t nothing wrong-”

Oh Steve would argue with that so hard. He could feel Sam watching him from the corner of his eye, but neither of them said anything as Steve gripped the edge of the table the monitors were on.

He was sure he was going to be sick, the edge of his vision doing something he only read about; as if truly turning red, crimson with hunger for blood. He never ever craved tearing someone in half, not a single one of the guys who bullied him in school, not the girls that laughed at him when he said he liked them; and make no mistake, he had always felt mad enough.

But right now, he tasted undiluted rage and it tasted like acid with a bitter aftertaste of iron and copper, searing hot on his tongue and spreading through his body, turning it heavy and nauseatingly light at the same time.

“No, you’re ruining his life,” Carol emphasized, leaning onto the table and glaring murder at the girl. “If this is your idea of fighting for someone, it’s pretty twisted. You could have done literally anything to make him notice you, hell, pick you, but leave if he still said no, because that’s a sensible thing to do. But instead, you hurt someone he cared about. And that means you hurt him too – not to mention that his name is in there, possibly putting a scrap on his reputation. If you did love him, you’d want him to be happy.”

Steve gulped and looked away, unable to bear the weight of Carol’s words, feeling the jab on his own person. Because he was familiar with being accused of ruining someone’s life and future despite seemingly loving them. God knew that on a rainy day, he wondered about his own ‘love’ and its purity too – and now, it was fucking pouring and Steve had been forced to question everything he knew.

Was this little brunet Satan a godsend in fact? Was she supposed to tell him to stop lying to himself about not being your doom? Just what kind of a mess this stunt would have made had you been working a steady job and this got to your employer?

A gentle hand reached for his shoulder, a silent support, and Steve found himself torn between irritated, grateful and deeply ashamed.

No matter how much he hated it, he should be on the list to get punched for hurting you too.

“So, sorry to break it to you, but you don’t love him,” Carol continued and with Sam’s palm on his shoulder, Steve forced himself to watch the scene, the grand finale. “You’re just a little girl with attitude issues, a crush that got out of hand, and a ton of luck for knowing a guy willing to help you. Guess what – you just ran out of that luck.”

Heavy silence fell on the interrogation room and Steve’s eyes slid shut, hearing Carol and Yvonne’s parting words.

“And just so you know, she didn’t get the highest score. She got a B.”

Steve didn’t even know that and despite all the shit they were in, he felt a surge of pride for his g- hopefully still his girl.

At the same time, the fact that he learned it from Carol and not from you as he still couldn’t reach you, felt like a punch to his solar plexus.

Carol entered the monitoring room with a discontent expression on her face, wordlessly telling Steve and Sam that the conversation, no matter how harsh, wasn’t satisfying enough.

Still, Steve glanced at her and nodded with severity.

“Thank you, Carol,” he rasped, surprised by how hoarse his own voice sounded; for the burn of rage in his stomach and the tension in his muscles, he almost forgot about the lump gradually growing in his throat with each hour of silence from you.

“My damn pleasure,” Carol huffed with slight irritation, one clearly not aimed at Steve. She subtly raised her eyebrows. “I kinda want to punch her, but I guess I’m not the only one, huh?”

Steve sighed and closed his eyes, his hands almost shaking with the said need. Still, it was surprisingly relieving to be called out on that and to learn that he wasn’t the only one. And when he opened his eyes again, the look on Carol’s face told him that she wasn’t blaming him one bit.

“You have no fucking idea, I- Jesus, I never wanted to—to-- so much in my life.“

The rise of one corner of her lips was sympathetic. “We’ll handle this, Steve. I know it’s hard to hear, but you can’t really help us here. Go home. Rest.”

The lump in Steve’s throat grew nearly suffocating at the idea of going to the empty apartment, where his uselessness became even more evident. Steve eyed Sam, searching with hope for any sign of a better advice, but the counsellor only nodded to second Carol’s thought.

“Go home and try to call your girl. She’ll pick up eventually.”

At that time Steve had done exactly that – however, the result had remained identical to those with his previous attempts. You hadn’t picked up and he had left a voicemail and a pathetic text that somehow seemed to be reflecting all of his insecurities and doubts about your relationship and it hadn’t turned out at all as he had planned – and then it had been too late to take it back.

He had sent another and another, almost hour after hour and he was gradually realizing that he was forgoing all hope and his faith in what you two had and what it could become in the future; and god, did he want the future so badly.

But he couldn’t always get what he wanted, could he? He thought that a miracle had happened when he had first met you and later heard your yes to the date. But here you were.

Four days from that terrible incident.

Did Steve even believe that you two were supposed to be together? He didn’t even know anymore. Perhaps it was an intervention from some higher power and you two breaking apart was meant to be, saving you a heartbreak and disillusions which were about to come later.

He squeezed his eyes shut at the thought and the sensation that felt like a punch to his gut, his insides cramping.

That was not true. You two loved each other. You had found something truly amazing in each other and you were about to reach out to him any minute so you could continue to your brighter future together.

…right?

Except a minute passed by and nothing happened, the phone Steve was toying with remaining silent.

No received text or e-mail.

No incoming call.

Another minute and then another ten, the phone still spinning in his hand in almost a reflex at that point and still not lighting up.

The knot in Steve’s gut turned tighter and tighter, the tension in his shoulders and jaw growing, his mantra of you surely contacting him gradually falling silent.

Finally, he came to the decision that only fools kept doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result.

He was supposed to do that a long long time ago, the moment he had convinced himself that coming knocking on your dorm could be considered harassment… and would break his heart in case you’d shut the door to his face telling him you were done with him.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Steve swept through his contacts and dialled your best friend and roommate in one person.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Part 2

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Thank you for reading!

Let me know what you thought! I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ doing something with randomly timed shots to a series, so… you know. I’m a bit nervous. And I guess that this is very different from what this series was so far too, so I hope it’s okay. Thank you :-*

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