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ftwdb · 9 months

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Don't Say Go.

Chapter 9.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

“How did you survive all alone?”

“Have you killed any dead?”

“Did you have to kill any people?”

“What happened to your family?”

“Were you in the city when in burned?”

The questions came thick and fast. Apparently you weren’t the first newcomer to the ranch, but you were the first survivor. Others had arrived in groups and with their families. The ranch had been set up as a haven in the event of the collapse of civilisation, so of course when the dead rose everyone who had invested or who knew about the ranch and had something to offer - supplies, knowledge or even just the ability to work the land - made their way to the Otto’s.

That made you a curiosity to the ranchers. A source of information about the outside world.

Unfortunately it was also why you found yourself curled up in your bunk with the covers pulled over your head.

The day after your arrival Jeremiah had demanded Troy continue with his duties as head of the militia, and without the youngest of the Otto’s there to glare at anyone who dare quiz you, you found yourself hiding away as much as possible.

It had been only a few days and you were still in recovery. Jake had convinced his father to give you time to rest before being assigned a job and was monitoring you daily.

You knew the sound of his fist against the bunkhouse door and reluctantly pushed the covers aside to cross the room and pulled back the bolt.

Jake smiled warmly and you couldn’t help but return the gesture as you stood aside to let him in. He ran through the usual tests, asked a few questions about how you were feeling and what you’d been eating before declaring he was happy with your progress.

“Were you studying medicine before?” You asked.

Jake shook his head, “No. But I’m a fast learner and we had a good doctor on the ranch.”

“Had?”

Jake’s expression grew solemn and you noticed in that moment the similarities between him and his brother.

“There was an elderly lady who passed, natural causes, and as our doctor was trying to resuscitate her she… came back.”

You grimaced at the thought.

“It was how we learnt you didn’t need to be bitten to turn. The doc survived the attack and kept a record of his deterioration. Troy helped.”

You noticed the change in his voice when Jake mentioned his brother. There was something almost bitter in the way Jake spoke. You wondered if there was some sort of jealousy between them, a brotherly rivalry perhaps?

You thought back to meeting their father. Yes, you could certainly see Jeremiah Otto as the type to fan the fires of competitiveness between his sons.

“I can continue advising my father that you need a few more days rest, but he’ll insist on putting you to work soon.” Jake continued.

You nodded. As much as you preferred an excuse to avoid the hustle and bustle of the ranch you were starting to grow bored in your free time. Having something to focus on while Troy wasn’t with you would at least give you a distraction from the unpleasant ache it left in your chest.

“I want to earn my place,” you told him earnestly.

Jake smiled as he stood to leave. His presence was one of few that put you at ease, but when his expression faltered you instantly felt yourself tense.

“I’ve been meaning to ask…” he started hesitantly, “Troy told me about what happened to you. Those men-“

You couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath as a flash of memory flickered through your mind. You gripped the edge of the bunk, but said nothing.

“One of our members here used to work as a therapist, before she retired. I can ask her to come see you if-“

“No.” You said sharply before feeling slightly guilty about your tone as Jake nodded.

“The offer is always open. You don’t need to hide away here, this is a safe place.”

You tried to smile but the muscles in your face felt stiff and heavy. You avoided Jake’s eyes as you said something about being fine. That you’d just needed to rest.

Once he had left and you’d bolted the door behind him you allowed your limbs to begin to shake as you slid down the door. Your breath came in short gasps and your eyes stung as you willed the memory of a heavy body pushing on top of you away…

You hadn’t even told Troy that what those men had done was nothing compared to before. You just couldn't find the words.

But if Troy had told Jake… was it out of concern? You thought you’d been doing okay, trying to fit in, to be normal in a world that had gone crazy over night.

Had Troy also told him what you’d done to the man who had tried to rape you?

The memory of the knife in your hand and the smell of blood made you gag.

It was a conversation you had avoided so far, that night when Troy had come after you.

But perhaps it was time for you and Troy to stop tiptoeing around each other with niceties and formalities and finally, really talk.

XXX

Troy examined the blood on his knife with interest. He’d been trying to keep a record of the coagulation process in the un-dead. So far he’d noted the blood still rotted, clumping together in clots that smelled foul, but not at the same rate as the dead who had been put down permanently. Destruction of the brain seemed to trigger the proper state of decay. He wished he could study it better, in a controlled environment.

A voice broke through the fog of his thoughts as Mike came into view. Troy flicked the grim fluid onto the grass and sheathed his blade.

“What?”

“Said that’s one of the largest herds we’ve seen so far. What do you think?”

Troy inclined his head in agreement. As interesting as he found watching the behaviour of the dead he didn’t like how close they were to the ranch. In his head he pictured the fences being surrounded, the moans of the dead echoing around them. He pictured your face, terrified and betrayed that the home he’d promised would keep you safe became a hunting ground for the dead.

“We step up patrols, try and figure out what direction they’re coming from.”

“Start with the border?” Cooper suggested as he fell inline beside his superior.

“We’ll take a team,” Troy agreed, catching Mike’s expression shift as he ordered his men to clean themselves up before heading back to the ranch. They’d returned once before covered in blood and gore, much to the shock of the ranchers. Troy decided it wasn’t worth the panic it caused to see them in such a state and made each militia member swear an oath to tell no one of what they came across in their patrols without his permission. Scared people were often stupid, especially in groups.

He waited until Mike was alone before he caught his attention.

“You got a problem, Mike?”

His friend eyed him warily. There was a bond between them that went back into their childhood. As sons of the founding fathers they had an allegiance like none of the other militia members. And Mike, for all his faults, had always stood by Troy. But that didn’t mean Troy would let insubordination slip.

“Sure don’t,” Mike replied with faux cheerfulness.

Troy cocked his head to one side as he always did when sizing someone up. Mike avoided his gaze as he wiped the blood from his hands and face and Troy knew he only had to wait for the real answer to come. Mike was a loudmouth, he couldn’t stop himself from talking sometimes.

“It’s just-”

There we go, thought Troy.

“-the border? I thought your dad didn’t want us heading too far that way? It’s dangerous.”

Troy spread his boots in the dirt as his hands rested on his hips. Cowardice was one of the faults in Mike he’d had to overlook over the years.

“You’re right. Big Otto gave me orders, but you follow mine. I say the danger is getting too close to home. You do want to protect it, right,”

“Of course I do!” Mike protested.

“So we take care of it before it becomes a problem. Cut out the infection at the source instead of just treating the symptoms,” Troy gestured at the dead littered about them.

Mike made a noise that sounded like reluctant agreement. Honestly, Troy wondered why he had even joined the militia. He wasn’t a fighter, not at heart. He supposed everyone needed a place though, and Mike had always felt the need to prove himself to everyone. Perhaps it was the burden of being Vernon Trimbol's only son.

“Hey Troy, we got a straggler!” called Cooper.

Troy followed his gaze and spotted a figure limping toward them. He frowned. The movement, although clumsy, was too quick and precise to be one of the dead.

“I want eyes on them, now,” Troy snapped. Immediately his men raised their weapons.

Cooper was peering through his binoculars, muttering to himself as Troy strode over to his side with Mike close behind.

“We got a live one?”

“Two in one week. Maybe it’s another soulma-“

Troy snatched the binoculars from Cooper, almost strangling him in the process and shooting him daggers as his words were choked off. He felt Mike watching him but chose to ignore both the men as he got a closer look at the newcomer.

Troy hadn’t spoken at length with anyone about the appearance of his soulmate. Of course rumours spread, idle gossip that Troy would not entertain. His business was no one else’s, not even Mike’s.

“Looks like a male. Young. Can’t see much from more here though.”

“Wanna send out a welcome wagon?” Mike said coldly.

Troy dropped the binoculars and walked back to his truck. “Coop, stay here and keep watch. Mike, Blake, with me.”

It took only minutes to reach the stranger, who dropped to their knees in relief as the truck came to a dusty stop. Troy, Blake and Mike approached cautiously, guns raised as the man lifted shaking arms into the air.

“Don’t shoot,” he croaked.

Troy took in the filthy clothes, the bloody rags wrapped around the side of the man’s face which obscured most of his features.

“You bit?” He asked.

The man shook his head.

“Blake. Double-check.”

Blake roughly pulled away the man’s backpack and stripped him of most of his clothes before they were content that they were being told the truth. Meanwhile the stranger was trying to speak, babbling incoherently. Troy could see why. He wasn't just exhausted and victim of the elements, one side of his body looked sore and blistered, like he'd been burned.

“What happened to you? You get caught in the bombings?”

With shaking hands the man pressed his fingers to the rags. His one exposed eye darkened.

“I was attacked. In my sleep. I think I’m blind…”

Troy ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek as he always did when he was thinking. The man looked on death's door but bringing in like-minded people, fellow survivors, could only make them stronger. Was this man one of those people? He must have been strong to have survived in such a state.

“Blake, cuff him and bag him. We’ll have Jake look him over back home.”

The man gave a dry sob and thanked them even as he was blind-folded and bundled into the truck. Troy, annoyed at the sound of his pathetic voice, turned up the volume on the truck's music player.

Blake sat in the back with a knife in his fist, the other bundled in the back of the man’s shirt. Mike was frowning.

It was then Troy felt something in his chest. A familiar tug that told him he’d been gone from home too long. Your face swam before his eyes before he blinked it away and he couldn’t stop the edges of his mouth quirking upward as he felt a rush of eagerness to return home.

#troy otto #fear the walking dead #ftwd fanfic #fanfiction #ftwd #fanfic #fear the walking dead fanfic #ftwdfanfic #troy otto x reader #soulmates #au #season 3 #don't say go fic

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fireflylitsky · 20 days

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Hehe Shisui is apparently popular today XD answered that one here

Fixing Overhaul. Oh boy, what to say for myself on this one? 😂 I have no excuse. I'm down bad for Overhaul and I am throwing my very dumb, cute moth girl at his face like a sopping wet t-shirt. The plot goes something like this: Kai's childhood friend, whom he thought was dead, has just tumbled back into his life. She's disgusting, of course, what with that 'silk' quirk of hers. But he can fix her, he's sure of it. (joke is on him in the end)

Aaaaand a snippey based on a pet names prompt:

As far as pet names go, most of that is beyond cringe to Kai. But he finds himself calling her one thing in particular--only in his head so far. Not all the time or anything, but it’s almost slipped out once or twice.

It’s bound to happen at this point with how much he thinks it, and within a week it does.

“Stay close,” he says, resting his gloved hand against the small of her back as they walk. Despite his aversion to people and their filth, he’s learned that he feels better when he’s got a hand in her in crowds like this.

99.9% of people will take one look and know to keep a distance from her. The notorious leader of the Shie Hassaikai is a repellent of sorts, generally speaking.

It’s the .1% he needs to be wary of. The people that see his hand on her like it’s painting a target. Like he's just given them a fun new way to get to him.

Either way, he needs her to stay close, and right now she’s faltering, getting distracted by a string of lanterns hung on a nearby shop.

“Fuwa,” he says, ushering her to move along with him.

She absently stumbles forward a step, still enraptured with the dancing flames flickering within the lanterns. Pretty fire—basically her kryptonite.

“Fuwa, sweetheart, come on.”

She stops in her tracks, head tipping back to look up at him with big blinky eyes. Ah, shit. She’s going to make a big deal out of this.

“What?” Her head tilts in genuine confusion. “What did you just call me?”

“It’s nothing,” he dismisses. “Just a common pet name, now let’s go.”

“A pet name,” she repeats, confused. “So am I your pet?”

“No.” He snorts. She’s so literal sometimes it’s comical.

“So it doesn’t mean anything?” she questions, still not moving.

“I—no. Not really. It’s just a name.”

“Oh,” she murmurs, suddenly sounding dejected, staring at the ground.

Shit.

“It doesn’t mean nothing,” he amends, heat creeping onto his cheeks.

“I was hoping it meant you liked me,” she admits like it's nothing with a slant of her mouth.

“Fu…” he sighs, exasperated. “It does. That’s exactly what it means, okay?”

“Really?” She brightens.

“Yes.”

“Well, I like you too, should I start calling you sweet tart too?”

Kai actually lets out a small, scoffing laugh, caught off guard. “First of all, it’s sweetheart, not sweet tart. Secondly, no.”

“Why not? I like you too.”

“Well I’m glad for that, but it doesn’t suit me.”

“Why not?”

“Because unlike you, I’m not very sweet.”

“I think you’re sweet, Kai,” she says earnestly, brows bowing up. “I think you’re the sweetest.”

That's what worries him. It twists his guts up when she says stuff like this.

“That’s… nice of you, Fu. It is. That’s exactly why the name suits you. Why don’t you come up with a different name for me?” There. That’ll keep her busy in her head for about the next two hours. Maybe now he can actually get her to walk with him.

“Okay,” she beams, clearly excited by the assignment.

“Good.” He pets her hair down over the nape of her neck, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Now let’s go. Stay close.”

She doesn’t answer, a look of concentration already painted on her face as she picks up pace alongside him again. Lord knows what’s going on in that mind of hers. He might regret this later, but what’s done is done.

#WIP game #OC x Overhaul #Thanks for asking about my very questionable ship Nisi <3

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thesunshineriptide · 2 years

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So I watched Lilo and Stitch again. And was curious if aliens would exist in twisted and how it would be if Yuu was actually an alien.

I’m genuinely not sure if this is a request or if you’re just asking my opinion but I can definitely answer this to the best of my abilities

In terms of whether or not I think twisted wonderland, in particular, would have aliens…probably not to be honest. But then again, maybe?

On a technical level, Yuu is actually an alien. This is a character from another world with different physiology, physics, rules of nature, etc. So in that sense, yes aliens exist.

But you were talking about Lilo and Stitch kinda aliens and in that case. Probably not.

From a storytelling perspective it doesn’t seem likely due to the fact that Twst is more focused on the fantasy based Disney properties rather than the science fiction properties.

Now, let’s say there are aliens in this universe similar to what you see in Lilo and Stitch

Yuu as an alien….would be Grim

Yeah sorry this is kind of boring.

But on the other hand, let me offer you some headcanons since my hot takes are pretty lukewarm (don’t get me wrong though, I love the concept of Alien Yuu!)

Alien Yuu

The fuzzy, eight legged creature that was inside of the black coffin, draped in ceremonial robes, was not what anyone was expecting

Much less for this creature to immediately run up the walls and refuse to come down

There’s got to be a mistake, right? This…this can’t be right.

The dark mirror assigns the creature to Savanaclaw.

Hades lord almighty the creature goes to school. With normal ass people.

Also for the record I think Alien Yuu wears a tiny, tailored version of the uniform, unlike grim

Luckily, since it’s small and fluffy, it doesn’t take up much room. But it’s an alien that barely understands language as a whole so it’s kind of an asshole.

This thing. Yelled at constantly. Half the time it’s Riddle collaring them (which works exactly one time because Yuu tries to bite him) or Sebek yelling about this atrocity allowed to be inside of the school.

But sometimes, Yuu is adorably present

The creature starts attending classes and doing well?? And particularly gets good at animal linguistics.

Eventually learns the common tongue and starts talking and thinking out loud a lot more.

Ends up being like, the fifth scariest student on campus. Both because that thing is not even close to humanoid and bites, and also because it’s magical talent is wildly overpowered

I’d like to think that some students just. Pick up alien Yuu and carry them around

Alien Yuu has probably snuck into Leona’s room at least once and napped with him. The amount of panic he had at being met with those big black eyes when he woke up made everyone worried some was attacking him

This thing eats anything in sight. Tried to eat a cauldron at least once. Has eaten several vials of alchemy ingredients

I’d imagine that Malleus would find them interesting and just sort of study them from afar. And they just start following him around

Now they’re the second scariest student in school

It’s not clear who’s job it is to take care of this thing but it’s probably Leona’s. Anyway they smell like dirt a lot

Honestly probably bathes like a Chinchilla? Not sure if that’s important information but it’s information I needed to give

When someone finds out they have a phalangeal jaw the Leech twins are coming over to bond over biting people.

Speaking of, alien Yuu totally steals food from other peoples dorms. Is banned from Octavinelle (also tried to bite Azul)

You may be wondering how this thing is going to deal with overblots, right?

The aggressive power of hugs and also just eating peoples pens

Grim has the decency to wait until the person is done with their mental breakdown to eat their magestone, but Alien Yuu just does it as soon as they notice trouble

Ended up snapping Riddle out of his rage by just. Playing up how cute and fluffy they are. Forced to cuddle with a sentient fucking teddy bear.

Basically how they deal with all of them.

Except Azul, in which they deal with it by biting his tentacles (don’t worry, they grow back)

Also don’t think about the fact that this alien would be Crowley’s errand runner and make a deal with Azul. Yeah they did those things but they also share a braincell with Ace and deuce so they’re not doing them well, just solving issues with brute force

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst mc #alien Yuu

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inkofamethyst · 8 months

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February 2, 2024

I've banned myself from buying sweet treats until my birthday. Not that far away, but long enough to hopefully be effective. However. I am also going to give myself an out. I can eat sweet treats, but they must be something I baked myself, and I must not repeat recipes (except the shortbread). Ingenious because I generally dislike baking, but if I'm going to succumb to my sweettooth I might as well improve a skill while I'm at it. I'm also cutting out apple juice which is going to be pretty tough as well. I will permit myself orange juice one time max between now and my birthday. The first few days were really tough. I pretty much always go for something sweet after dinner and my body was screaming at me for some sugar. I can do it though, I can. And then maybe I'll buy myself a mini cake on my birthday.

Also coding is hard. I know that what I need to do is practice at it a little every day though. I might have found a 100-day bootcamp which I can use to supplement my coursework. If I think of it like learning an instrument, maybe it won't be so bad. Also, my notes and examples and stuff are spread across like three different places and two of them aren't optimized for my iPad but there's no way I'm pulling out big bertha even though her screen size and power would be SO USEFUL. She just can't fit on that tiny little pullout desk. And it still wouldn't solve the issue of my notes being scattered which makes it difficult to solve problems with old skills. I can do it though, I can.

One thing I'm coming to learn is that I really need to get out of my head and just write sometimes. Like I spent an entire week stressing about this one open-ended genetics assignment (you know the type, where they come up with a made up scenario and ask you to explain a potential mechanism), but when I stopped trying to think it through and decided to just let my fingers fly? Done in half an hour. Similarly when I'm coding, sometimes it's best to just try things. Type all sorts of stuff and see what comes of it.

Today I'm thankful that my hair looked amazinggggg this week. I took out the twists and had the cutest minitwistout, an amazing opener to black history month lol. I'd planned to start braiding this weekend but I might keep it in for another few days since it's holding up.

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bandedbulbussnarfblat · 6 months

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y'all, I'm so high rn, but I think I wanna write something in omegaverse. It would be my own twist on it, of course.

Imma put the thingy cause I got a little ramblelly

Bc I think like the trope itself could be so fun to examine through a world building aspect. Having a secondary sex, (or gender, that's something else I'll get into) is such an amazing thing in and of itself. There would be whole new ways to be transgender and/or queer.

So, would transgender people really be treated differently? When they have to be pretty common, like say statistically 30% of the population, at bare minimum.

But back to the sex thing. Like, assumably, you could still reproduce with your primary sex? So, theoretically, you could be the biological mother or father of your child. That means in a society like this, gender roles about parenthood could be virtually none existent.

And your secondary sex (I'm calling it a sex bc it aids in reproduction) is also sort of an assigned gender. Like, in fic, that I have read (bc sometimes when you got a rare pair, you gotta step outta your comfort zone) omegas are sort of looked down on, and alphas are looked up to. But what if you're born physically an alpha, but you feel like an omega? And is being alpha/omega rare? And aren't they sort of expected to go together? So what would people think of alpha/alpha pairings, or omega/omega? I imagine being beta is like, the equivalent of being cis het here, in terms of commonality.

And then there’s that scent thing. Apparently, it makes you very attractive to your...idk how to explain this gender split stuff rn, bc I'm like, so baked. Like how irl some people still think men/women are opposites, in omegaverse people think alpha/omega are. Attractive to your opposite sex/gender.

But like, if alphas are supposed to be this charismatic idol, then naturally, they make it to the top. But what if that scent thing also works on all people attracted to alphas?

And the omega scent thing is also supposed to be all sex and shit. But also like, protective? Like it gives you this urge to keep them safe or some bullshit? Bc they might be pregers. And it works on all people attracted to omegas.

And like there could be people omegas attracted to other omegas. But they might be able to get away with it if they're male/female bc that's always been the expected thing. (Bc obviously, if betas are in charge, they aren't going to think about the needs of alphas/omegas.)

(Though it could be entirely the other way around, with alpha/omegas being the norm, and betas being looked down on bc they only had one method to breed.)

See? There's so much you can do with it. But usually, all you see is the sex stuff. Which is cool if that's what you're looking for.

But I want a political intrigue type drama where the different genders play against conventional roles. And also there's a lot of smut.

But like the being in heat leaves you coherent enough to say yes or no. Or that their scent starts to smell bad as a self-defense mechanism. Oh, I like that, actually. But anyway, I don’t like dub-con like this. For like, personal reasons.

So there is a lot of smut. That is at least a little queer every once in awhile. But tbh that's just bc this gummy got me horny af. Except I'm also asexual af and the thought of myself in any sort sexual scenario makes me want to have a panic attack irl.

Anyway, you could write it as this gender equality utopia.

Or you could right it as the way it probably would be--humans always find a way to build culture, to make a society. Societies have rules to keep the status que. There will always be those who are by nature against that status que and will be seen as different or other.

Ok, I think I have accidentally done like, some of my world building here. That makes this a sacred post.

Wait shit. Am I actually going to do this? I don't really think I can. Unless I write it on my phone, bc the shitty ass laptop is too far away.

#high posting #rambling #omegaverse speculation #like it's not my thing #but I'll read it if I'm dumpster diving for anything #with the idea that one man's trash is another man's treasure #but like it is so much fun to speculate on. what is society like? what are the gender norms?#omg i think I'm going to write something omegaverse

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youritalianbookpal · 9 months

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Ten Questions Book Review - Foul Lady Fortune by Chloe Gong

What is it? Years after Our Violent Ends, we find Rosalind Lang as an immortal assassin for the Kuomintang. What happens when her superiors assign her as the fake wife of Orion Hong, known playboy actually working for the Kuomintang as well, in a mission to stop the Japanese invasion of China?

Who should read it? If you have read the These Violent Delights duology, if you love pretend relationships, sunshine/grumpy, little sisters who can (and will) kick ass, men who either communicate too much or too little and in either case are a HUGE HEADACHE, sisterhood, and a little bit of magic realism, this is the book for you. I want to add that, while it is suggested, it is not imo strictly required that you read the other duology first - everything that has to be explained to understand what is going on with Rosalind and the others is recalled and narrated within this duology.

Which genre(s) is it? Historical fantasy, YA.

What is the setting? Shanghai (mainly), 1931.

How are the characters? Rosalind, Celia, and Alisa had a lot of potential in the previous series, and I am glad we are getting the opportunity to see them develop more. On the other hand, we have the three Hong siblings that, while lovely, are a bit less developed. I look forward to more Phoebe and Oliver POVs in the next book (and Orion, sure, but he at least got something out of this novel already, more than his siblings at least). I also liked the depiction of less prominent characters, overall a good job in my opinion.

What are the strengths and weaknesses of the novel? The thing I liked best in the novel was probably the characters, as they emerge strongly from the pages. The action is mostly character-driven, to me (I say this because, from the Storygraph reviews, basically no one thinks that lol), and the plot twists actually make sense only if we look with attention at the characters involved. And I always appreciate a plot twist that makes sense. One weakness, as I might have mentioned for the two previous Gong books I've reviewed, is that sometimes very modern vocabulary or concepts are used in the 1930s settings and... it takes me a bit out of the world that is being built by the novels. I have to say, I had more problems with the previous two books, but I still had to google a couple of things while reading Foul Lady Fortune and... an editor should have googled if people really said that stuff in the 1930s, not me.

Did I cry and/or laugh? As far as I can remember, I didn't cry, but Orion and Phoebe for sure have made me laugh out loud.

Who shouldn’t read the book? There is a lot of murder and blood in this. Rosalind describes in detail her injuries (since she can't die from them, she can tell you a lot about them). If you do not like this sort of description, this novel is not for you.

Any random comment? I'm not sure if it fits them or not, but The Only Exception came randomly on my Spotify while I was reading this I can't not take it as a sign that it's a great song for Rosalind and Orion.

Which quote stuck with me?

Rosalind pressed up against the wall, exhaling into the empty hallway. A child who needs discipline? That was a complete and utter joke. They had the longest continuous history of any country in the world. They had been around for dynasties upon dynasties. And yet... and yet. When did imperialists care about history?All they wanted was to crush its conquests to dust: all the better to sweep them nicely into shape.

#ten questions book review #chloe gong #foul lady fortune #book review

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edelweissacermacrophyllum · 1 year

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Honour

Judges 1:1-2:5, Proverbs 11:9-18, John 4: 1-26

Whenever I go back to my parents' churches of their youth, I'm bored out of my mind by the sermons because they tend to pick a topic and then go all over the place looking for verses that support whatever point they're trying to prove. A young, hip, young adult hype church in Vancouver did this too, so the problem isn't unique. In fact, it is so not unique that there is a name for it: Eisegesis or reading a theme into something. In contrast, exegesis is reading a theme out of something. And the book that inevitably fell prey to this wanton cherry picking was Proverbs.

I have barely focused at all on Proverbs because many of the proverbs appear to be common knowledge, assigning metaphorical consequences to clearly moral or amoral actions, or just make no sense to me at all. I have a very hard time not skimming them. But today one caught my eye.

Proverbs 11:16 A kindhearted woman gains honour, but ruthless men gain only wealth.

There is an incredible juxtaposition here between women and men, honour and wealth, kindness and ruthlessness. Honour is usually talked about in warrior cultures, poorly defined, and abused to manipulate vulnerable men. It seems to be a combination of morality, prowess in battle, and completion of tasks set to you by some authority figure.

And with this proverb, it says that all that you need for it is a kind heart. Granted, this could just be saying that honour is different for men and women, but it compares the kindhearted woman with a ruthless man who posesses, presumably, prowess in battle and loyalty.

In the beginning chapter of Judges, the Israelites still have to deal with some Canaanites, and find themselves attacking a city. They find some guy leaving and ask for its vulnerabilities in exchange for keeping him safe. He complies and they take the city. Did they threaten him? Did he act poorly? Did he act honourably? Did the Israelites act honourably? My thesis answer is that honour is a stupid word and we should stop using it. This happens sometimes. The r slur used to be fine, a medical term with a specific (sort of) meaning that didn't carry any baggage. It changed. Honour is the same now. It has been abused, tortured, and twisted by every villain with an army to control.

And yet, it is still useful as a word and can be redeemed, by assigning it to a kindhearted person. I loved the thesis of 'Everything, Everywhere, All at Once' that it takes more strength, courage, and honour to be kind and gentle in this world than it takes to be violent. If we could decouple honour culture from warrior culture, maybe it would be worth something.

Actually, as I write this, I realize that there are huge chunks of the world that (according to some sociological theories) operate on honour/shame cultures without violence having anything to do with it. I don't know much about these cultures, but I think that in them honour is still used by patriarchal structures to justify injustice, oppression, and the heirarchy itself.

Also, it's notable both the dismissive tone in which wealth is spoken of and its placement as the opposite of honour. This is further evidence, cherry picked of course, that rich people go to hell. But also that they have no honour.

Maybe the definition of honour is to fight for those who cannot fight, be kind to those who haven't seen kindness, and to give money to poor people. It might be the downward mobility of Jesus or the deliberate giving up of power for no greater cause than to raise others up. There would be no honour in fighting weak people on the orders of a strong one then. But I quibble over semantics. It would be nice to have good and evil well defined though. I will solve that question in the next paragraph.

#bible in a year #jesus #Honour #patriarchy #money

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: A Child's Ink

Context: Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

WARNINGS: underage characters get tattoos/piercings

Word Count: 5680 Rating: T Ships: primarily Gen (Disaster Lineage + Shmi), offscreen JangoShmi, past Obitine, past Anidala ----

Ylliben Skywalker is known as a preternaturally calm and quiet child, serious and pensive.

He jokes. He roughhouses. He is as responsive to tickle attacks and shoulder rides and warm hugs as any other child.

But he is Jetii'Manda, not just Mando'ade, and that fact is impossible to forget.

This is a child that can read before he can speak, a child who can talk at length about 'grassroots antiestablishment propaganda and its influence on rural sociological development' before he can say the words without a lisp. This is a child who looks a man in the eye and tells him to check over his blaster one last time, or it will explode in his hand only minutes into the next engagement. This is a child who is not only willing, but capable of discussing the plausible ramifications of Duke Adonai Kryze's latest decrees with Jaster Mereel himself, while still in possession of all his baby teeth.

(His father is not worried by this. Upset, sometimes, pained and tired, but not worried.)

(His sister only laughs.)

It is, as a result, not as surprising as it could be, when a six-year-old wanders his way into Na-Tsuyon's parlor and asks her what the risks of getting a tattoo at his age are.

"I'm not having that conversation with you unless your parent is here," she says. A few of the other artists crane their heads in her direction, but she waves them off.

"I'm not trying to get it right this moment," Ben protests. "I'm just gathering information. He said that was fine."

"Still need your parent here here," she tells him.

He leaves for about ten minutes, and then comes back with a tall, gangling figure in tow.

"I hear this isn't the place for unaccompanied minors," Knight Skywalker jokes.

(She has heard him called a General. She does not know which war he fought. Nobody does.)

(They no longer ask.)

"Well, he is young," she says, brushing her tentacles back over a shoulder. "I don't let anyone under human-fourteen get tattooed without a parent on hand, and giving preliminary information to anyone under twelve is... generally not worth it, shall we say."

Skywalker smiles, oddly amused in the way he always is when someone points out his children need supervision. "Glad to hear it. Are you the Na-Tsuyon whose name is on the door?"

"I am," she says. "And you're Knight Skywalker."

He's pleased at that. She can feel it in the chemical receptors of her head tails, and wonders. "Yep. So, do we jump right into the discussion or do you need me to sign something, or..."

"No, it's enough that you're here," she assures him. "Now, the main reasons we discourage tattoos for younger sentients is the distortion factor. While the level of pain is much lower than it would have been several millennia ago, and we have the technology to remove ink from below the skin, a tattoo before your body stops growing will distort as you grow and your skin stretches. You would need to come in yearly for touch-ups, to remove the sections that have moved out of place, and fill in where the ink is no longer settled."

"That makes sense," Ylliben says. He looks up at his father, and then back to her. "You'd be able to tell me if any of my choices would be... bad for a Mandalorian, yes?"

"I would," she confirms. She glances up at Knight Skywalker. "I don't suppose you have any history of getting tattoos?"

"No," he says. "I'm from Tatooine, so..."

Different connotations to the very act of it, for him.

She ducks her head in a nod. "I understand. Generally it's easier if the parent has experience in the process, but it's far from mandatory. You're willing to work with the distortion maintenance?"

"Yes'm," Ylliben says, and his father shrugs and gestures, as if the word of a six-year-old is thus law.

"I'll walk you through the details of the process, including the care, relevant allergies, and so on. I don't suppose you have anything in mind already?" she asks.

"I do," he says. He doesn't tell her what it is, yet.

Anakin Skywalker stays there the entire time, and they make an appointment for later in the week.

----

"My buir isn't my only father," Ylliben says quietly, when it comes time to get details on what he's getting tattooed. "I had another father before him. A Jedi. He died, to protect me, and a lot of other people. So, um..."

He shoves a picture to her, the symbol of the Jedi, plain and simple. She looks at him.

"In red," he says, shifting on his feet, looking up at his father and then back down at the page. "For, um, to honor a parent."

"Your first father was a Jedi?" she asks, gentle as she can.

"Mm-hm," Ylliben says. "He died, um... he saved buir from slavery, too, a long time ago. Both my dads were Jedi, and I'm going to be one, too, and so is Sokanth. It's--it's about where I come from, and--"

"You don't have to justify it if you don't want to," Na-Tsuyon tells him, reaching out to place one hand on his. It's very warm and dry, in her opinion, but she finds that most humans are. Mandalorians are some 80% human, or near human.

Nautolan Mandalorians aren't unheard of, but she's a rare one.

Ben sucks in a breath, and says, "I want it up here, on my right shoulder, like a pauldron."

Na-Tsuyon nods, and looks up to Skywalker. "You'll have to sign some papers to approve it, Master Jedi. You approve of the design?"

Skywalker hesitates, and then goes to one knee in front of his son, and speaks so quietly she can only hear "--remind you of the generator complex?"

Whatever Ben's answer is, it's too quiet for her to catch. It satisfies Skywalker, though, and he stands. "Alright, let's see this paperwork."

----

When Ylliben comes in again, a year later to get his slightly-twisting tattoo fixed, it's with Miss Shmi in tow. Na-Tsuyon greets the middle Skywalker, for all that she's still not entirely sure how to address the girl. "I heard you've been attending the university at Sundari. Some kind of engineering?"

"Mechanical, yes," Shmi says, oddly soft. "I'm going to spend another year to specialize in vehicular engineering. I'd like to design starships, since I already know how to fix them."

"A worthy goal," Na-Tsuyon says, as she leads them over to one of the stations and starts sanitizing Ylliben's inked shoulder. She doesn't entirely see why a university education is needed for something that, in her opinion, an apprenticeship could more thoroughly cover. It certainly worked well enough Na-Tsuyon herself. "You're on vacation, then?"

"I am," Shmi confirms. "It's... unfortunate that Anakin couldn't be here a the same time, but we'll see each other in a few days."

Ylliben fidgets for a bit as his jedi symbol is fixed, and then finally asks, "Ori'vod can approve new tattoos, right?"

"Sokanth, no. Shmi..." Na-Tsuyon looks up at her. "I have no idea if you're listed as his legal guardian anywhere, and I'd need proof of that."

"Secondary to Anakin," Shmi confirms. "Ben would like this to be a surprise for Ani."

Ben pulls out a sheet, with a careful design on it, and presses it into Na-Tsuyon's lap when she lifts the tattoo gun and he's not at risk of ruining his own ink. It's simpler than the Jedi symbol, though it's two colors instead of one.

"It's the Open Circle Fleet," Ben says, shy in a way she's given to understand he usually isn't. She thinks his shyer moments may be connected to admitting to emotion, something that he's tying quite closely to his choice of Tattoos. "I thought, um, since I'm already--already honoring one buir, then, er..."

"The Open Circle Fleet was under the command of my brother's Jedi Master," Shmi explains, one hand on Ben's. "And I am given to understand that the symbol was designed as a subtle nod, of sorts, to the two of them as a team. Ben's looking to honor Anakin as he has his first father."

Ben looks down at his lap, and doesn't meet Na-Tsuyon's eyes.

"Bring me proof of guardianship," she tells them. "And I'll make sure you get it finished early enough that the bacta comes off before Knight Skywalker makes it home."

She holds true to her word, and talks her way into being there to see the reunion and reveal.

The emotions that cross Skywalker's face are complicated and unexpected in ways that she can't identify.

Then it's all too simple, because he starts crying on little Ylliben in the middle of the hangar.

----

It doesn't take a full year for Ylliben to come in for another set. It's only five months, maybe six. He has a sketch again, a geometric design of something she doesn't recognize, but still pings as familiar for some reason.

"It needs to be the right shade of blue," he tells her, serious as anything. Knight Skwyalker is right next to him, smiling all soft and indulgent, and maybe a little sad. "It's for Soka."

Oh. This is based on her facial markings, then. Or... what they will be, maybe. This doesn't look quite like what she's seen on the girl, but everyone knows little Ben is more touched by visions than his father and sister.

Na-Tsuyon thinks she knows where this is going. "The same blue as her montrals and lekku?"

Ben shakes his head. "No, 501st blue."

Or not.

"It's close, but a little darker and more saturated," Skywalker offers, and shrugs when she looks his way. "It's a long story, but the 501st was the legion I led before I arrived at Mandalore. It had a specific shade of blue assigned for armor paint, so legions could easily identify each other in the field."

That's... odd. She doesn't ask for more detail, though. It's not her business. "Where do you want this one?"

Ben shows her his left forearm and frames a section about two-thirds the length of it, along the outer side. Like a vambrace.

She has a feeling all these symbols will be on his armor, once he's old enough for it.

"Let's go through my inks and see which one will work best," she says, and does not comment on the rest.

----

When Ylliben comes in again, a few months before his next touch-up appointment, he doesn't have an image on hand. His father is trailing him again, and Na-Tsuyon has a guess.

"Time for Shmi?" she asks.

Ben ducks his head, flushing and not meeting Na-Tsuyon's eyes. "Yes'm."

"I thought as much," she says, and smiles at Skywalker. "General."

"Don't start."

"There have been oh so many rumors flying since the last Jedi run-in, you know."

"I don't care," he grouses, dropping into a seat. "Hells, a man takes emergency command for one battle, and it's all anyone can talk about."

"You ended a civil war, sir."

Ben giggles into his hands as Skywalker groans and slaps a hand over his eyes.

"No respect," the man complains. "Ben, be nice to me, I'm your dad."

"Nuh-uh," Ben says. "I know all the most embarrassing secrets."

"A cruel child," Skywalker accuses. "Ruthless."

"You're the one raising me," Ben says, swinging his legs back and forth. He's got plastoid training vambraces, now, and greaves that clink against the legs of the chair.

"Somehow, yes." Skywalker sighs, with great drama and all such things. He drags himself up to sitting. "Anyway. Moving on."

"Do you have something in mind already?" Na-Tsuyon asks.

"Binary suns," Ben says. "Just two overlapping circles, coin-sized, one bigger than the other, in sunset colors. In a gradient, with a sort of... flare to it? Halo? The... oh! The stellar corona. Buir knows the colors better."

"I want to see what you have to work with before I sketch out the design," Skywalker says. "But yeah, sort of pink and yellow and peachy."

"I can do almost any color," Na-Tsuyon promises. "Especially on fair human skin like Ylliben's. I won't have a problem getting those to show up the way I would on myself."

Na-Tsuyon is a color most would call 'aquamarine.' She's a light shade between blue and green, and much as she likes her skin, it's an absolute pain to make red and orange show up.

She can do it.

It's just annoying.

Ben asks for this one to be on the inside of the left forearm, high and opposite to the widest point of the mark for Sokanth.

----

"Can I see your fonts?"

Ben's alone, for the moment, but Na-Tsuyon knows that when he makes his decision, his father or Shmi will approve it without question. It's no harm to let him browse.

"Basic, Mando'a, or Huttese alphabet?" she asks. "Or something more esoteric?"

"Mando'a, please."

He's eight years old, now. He's still far younger than most of her clients, but she's long gotten used to him. Even when he's acting like a child, there's something to it that doesn't quite sit right. 'Born middle-aged,' a few of the other civilians on base had joked.

She wasn't sure if she thought it was just a joke, these days.

Na-Tsuyon passes her fonts book to the boy, and settles back in her chair for a long afternoon of running numbers. He, meanwhile, goes to sit in the lobby, legs still not long enough to reach the floor, paging through with unwavering, unsettling gravitas.

Half an hour, and then Ben returns.

He points to a font. "This one."

"What's it going to say?"

"Vode An," he tells her, as serious as can be. "In black, over my heart. It's important."

"It's a fairly common phrase," she notes idly. "Should be quick."

She doesn't expect much of a response, and certainly not the one she gets.

"It was different for them," Ben mutters, not looking at her. She sees him twisting the toes of one shoe into the floor. "It was... it was different. I can't talk about it. They were brothers, actually brothers, and they had--they had nothing, they were basically slaves, but--"

"You don't have to talk about it," Na-Tsuyon assures him, a hand on his. "You don't have to explain it to me. If it means something to you, that's all that matters. I just need you to be sure."

"And buir to sign the paperwork," Ben quips, smiling at her. She notices that several teeth are missing. It's cute. "You need that too."

"That too," she agrees.

When Skywalker shows up, he hears what it is that Ben would like, and makes a few suggestions for a border--a gear that sounded too much like the Republic's symbol for a Mando'a phrase, a building on stilts from a city she's never heard of on a planet that rings no bells, a human genetic strand for reasons she can't imagine--most of which are soundly ignored, until Skywalker sketched out a stylized ship of... some sort.

"Venator," Skywalker says, and taps the image. "Nobody will know it except us, but it'll mean something to you, for them."

Ben looks at it for a long moment, and then takes the scrap of flimsi with Mando'a on it and lays it overtop the center of the sketch.

He stares at it for a few long moments, and then nods sharply and pushes it to Na-Tsuyon. "This, please."

He's such a polite child.

It makes it easier to ignore the more confusing parts of his presence in her parlor.

----

"Hi!"

Sokanth Skywalker is in her shop.

That's new.

"Hello," Na-Tsuyon says. "I didn't know you were thinking of getting ink."

"I'm not," she says, hopping up on a stool across the counter. She holds out a hand, and Na-Tsuyon clasps it with bemusement. "But you guys do piercings too, right?"

"We do," she confirms. "You're... ten?"

"Yep!" Sokanth chirps, kicking her legs back and forth. "Is that old enough to get these without permission, or should I ask my dad to come by?"

"At least twelve for piercings without in-person, signed approval from a parent or guardian," Na-Tsuyon says. "Though if you're anything like your brother, I don't imagine that'll be a problem for you."

Sokanth grins at her, bright and a little wild. "Nose, bottom lip, eyebrow. I don't know the actual terms, but I know what I want. Which do you suggest getting first?"

"I'd say nostril," Na-Tsuyon tells her. Most species even vaguely humanoid kick off with the ears, but that's not exactly an option for a togruta. "Let me get a chart and you can figure out what type of piercing you want, and what kind of hoop or stud. I don't actually do the piercings myself, though. Comm the General if you want this done today, though."

"Thank you~!"

----

Nostril, labret, and a horizontal brow, the piercer notes down at the end of the latest Skywalker visit. Na-Tsuyon wonders if the brow piercing will look strange with Soka's markings, and then doesn't think on it further.

----

Ylliben, almost nine, is silent as he gets the touch-up.

His father isn't here. Neither is Shmi. It's pre-approved, signed permission and all, but it's still odd that neither of Ben's adults is here.

Sokanth is, but she's almost as quiet as Ben is.

Na-Tsuyon has heard the rumors, but she's not going to say anything. She's not. It's not her business.

"Ben," Soka speaks up, towards the end of the appointment. "Ask her the thing."

Ben shakes his head. "No way."

"She knows more about tattoos and how important they are than anyone!" Soka urges. "Ask her!"

"Do you want to wait for your father?" Na-Tsuyon suggests.

"No!" both immediately yelp.

She pauses, glad the needle hadn't been to skin, and levels a look at Ben. He flushes and settles down, mumbling an apology for jerking as he had. She goes back to fixing the stretch of the binary suns tattoo.

Soka shifts in her seat, watching them intently.

"Shmi's upset with buir," Ben suddenly says. He doesn't meet Na-Tsuyon's eyes. "I'm... I don't know if you heard what's going on."

"I do my best to avoid rumors," she says, keeping her voice as neutral as she can. "I did hear that the Mand'alor is about to have a grandchild, and something about an upcoming wedding. That much has been announced officially."

"Dad freaked out," Soka says, legs kicking back and forth. "He's happy for her, and he's fine with Jango being the other parent, but it kicked off a... philosophical crisis? Ben, what do you think?"

"Metaphysical, maybe," Ben mumbles. "Definitely existential."

"And he told Shmi some stuff and now she's hurt that he didn't tell her before and it's all a mess," Soka finishes. "So, uh, we don't... want either of them involved. Until. Um. Until that's settled."

Na-Tsuyon bites back any deeper questions she might have. "Alright. I won't pry. What did you want to know from me?"

"I had a plan for what I was going to get next," Ben says, staring at the fold of fabric over his sister's knees in lieu of something more pertinent. "A peace lily, on the inside of my wrist, for..."

"You don't have to tell me," she reminds him.

Ben bites his lip, and closes his eyes, and breathes in deep. Neither of the girls comment.

"She was important," Ben finally says. "In the big memories. But she doesn't... she's not... she isn't here. And Jango is. And he's marrying Shmi, and they're having a baby, so I should put a mark down for him first, right?"

"He's gonna be Mand'alor, too," Soka adds.

"He is," Na-Tsuyon says, as neutral as she can.

"He's joining the family," Ben says, his gaze fixed on the floor in front of him. "And there's going to be a baby, and that's. That's important."

"There's no order that you have to get things in," Na-Tsuyon assures him, squeezing his shoulder in a light gesture of support. "You've prioritized family so far, so I think it would make sense to get a mark for the coming cousin, at least. Unless... is the lily for your birth mother?"

Ben's face twists, uncomfortable for some reason she can't begin to guess at.

"No," Ben says.

"Skyguy's Jedi Master did almost marry her when they were younger," Soka explains. She glances at Na-Tsuyon and then away and at the wall. "They had a whole dramatic 'forbidden romance' thing going on, 'cause Jedi aren't supposed to get married. She died before Ben came into the picture, though."

It's a neat enough explanation.

It feels fake, but much of what the Skywalkers say about their pasts does.

She's sure it's true in some way. In some perspective. From... from a certain point of view, maybe.

"Alright, then," Na-Tsuyon dismisses. "All things aside, I would suggest adjusting your order of tattoo acquisition, but there's no particular requirement by Mandalorian standards. Your choices are rarely anything that intersects with set traditions, nor do you have a historic clan or house that comes with mandates of the sort. It seems that you're leaning towards prioritizing something for the new additions to your family, though; you've made it clear that these things are important to you, and I think you should pursue it if you're comfortable with it."

Ben nods, eyes somewhere far off.

"It'll make him flustered," Soka pushes, kicking lightly at her brother's ankle. "Jan-Jan's still worried you don't like him anymore."

"He is not," Ben huffs. "He's just scared of buir."

"Nah, your opinion matters too," Soka argues. "And you've been avoiding everyone 'cuz Skyguy freaked out and Shmi's upset, so Jango's worried you're mad at him about the baby happening. If you get a tattoo about him, he might actually cry."

"Is that why you want me to take that route?"

"Not the only one," Soka says, utterly guileless. She blinks at him, bright and innocent. "But I definitely do want to see the future Mand'alor crying because you made it obvious he's family now. It'll be funny."

Ben sighs, very clearly being dramatic about it. "Soka, I'm not going to pick a tattoo based on what you think will be funny."

"Imagine his face, though."

Na-Tsuyon doesn't comment at the expressions Ben makes as he very clearly does exactly that.

"Well, kriff," Ben sighs, and Soka giggles at the swear. "I'll have to get a tattoo for Jango, then."

----

Ben is already nine by the time he comes in with his father to actually get the tattoo for Jango's addition to the family. The choice he makes isn't particularly imaginative, but it'll suit well enough. A mythosaur skull, the symbol of the Haat Mando'ade, in a grey the same shade as beskar.

There actually are traditions to this one, specific adjustments to the framing and stylization meant to indicate how one fits into the faction, but also how one is associated with the Mand'alor. Ben is family, and close family, but not related by blood, nor adopted directly by the Mand'alor, rather a relative through the riduur be alor.

Na-Tsuyon explains each element and adjustment in detail, lets them process and agree, until she's taking a needle to Ben's skin once more.

"Will you be getting one for the coming child as well?" Na-Tsuyon asks while shading in a curve of bone.

"Not yet," Ben tells her, quiet and oddly contemplating. "I need to meet them, first. Figure out who they are."

"Sensible," she agrees. There's the usual oddity in his phrasing, and she ignores it as ever. "Did you tell Fett that you were getting this?"

"No, it's intended as a surprise," Ben says, watching her work.

She can almost feel the coming question.

It does not come from the human she expects.

"Do you know any Mando tattoo artists in Little Keldabe?" the General asks, voice low.

She finishes the line she's on, lifts the needle away from skin, and turns to him. "You're leaving for Coruscant?"

"Not yet," Skywalker says. He meets her eyes evenly. "But... soon. The time's coming. A year, maybe two. The Force will let us know when the time is right."

"Uh-huh," Na-Tsuyon acknowledges this. She does not comment further. The Force is not her wheelhouse. If they think it wants them back on Coruscant, with the Temple, then that's what they believe.

"These are Mando work," Skywalker continues, almost painfully earnest, "and I'd like to ensure whoever maintains them until Ben stops growing knows the right way to handle Mando art."

It's really not that different from a standard tattoo artist, but she's a little charmed anyway. Enchanted, almost. The man really does care.

"I can get you some names and addresses next time you stop by," she promises him. "It's been a few years since I checked in on their work, and I'll need to look them over before I make any recommendations."

He smiles at her, relieved in a manner she finds appallingly open for a Jedi like himself.

Ben mimics his father.

----

She gets to attend the wedding, months later.

The food is very, very good.

(Ben waits until the reception to show off his new tattoo, and the future Mand'alor does, in fact, cry.)

(So does Shmi.)

(So does their eight-week-old daughter, but that's probably unrelated to the tattoo.)

----

"Do you think getting a belly button ring would be good?"

Na-Tsuyon doesn't lift her head from her paperwork when Sokanth poses the question to the piercer. She's in for the horizontal brow bar, this time, and the labret is going to be somewhere a few months down the line.

"That's really up to you," the piercer says. His name is Hujnak, and he's a Devaronian that's been working here since Na-Tsuyon opened up the place. She loves him dearly, but he stole the last piece of cake and for that he will have no help with difficult customers for the next fortnight.

Or until she gets bored.

"I'm leaning towards 'no,' but I'm not sure," Soka muses. "I like the idea of it, but I feel like it might get snagged on things more easily. Plus, it's going to be a point of higher damage and pressure if I get a gut punch. It's one of the parts of my body I'm never really going to armor up, you know?"

They do know. There have been screaming matches about all the Jedi's refusal to wear enough armor on many occasions. The Jedi prioritize their agility to such a degree that armorweave is more reasonable than actual armor, in their opinion. This is an opinion that Fett and Mereel both take issue with.

At great volume.

(Shmi has vambraces, a gorget, and greaves, Na-Tsuyon knows. Some of it was exchanged at the wedding. Shmi doesn't wear much armor, certainly less than even the children. Shmi, crucially, isn't a warrior or otherwise planning to see battle.)

"Then I would say it may be best to hold off."

"Phooey," Soka says, though she doesn't seem particularly upset. "Ben's gonna be cooler than me forever, then."

"You think tattoos are cooler than piercings?" Hujnak challenges. "I'm offended."

"He can just get more," Soka protests. "Without it looking weird or getting dangerous, I mean."

Hujnak hums, noncommittal. "And you're worried about being cooler than the younger brother you have told me is, and I quote, the biggest nerd ever?"

"Well, yeah," Sokanth scoffs. "He's gonna start acting older than me as soon as he thinks he can get away with it. I gotta have something to hold over his head, you know?"

"Seeing as you are the older sibling..."

"Ehhhh..."

Nope.

Not paying attention.

----

"These are House Kryze colors."

Ylliben's breath hitches.

He is ten. He doesn't seem ready to provide answers. She turns to the father instead.

"Will that be a problem?" the general asks, calm and even.

"Yes," she says, and Ben slumps. She continues, because this is her job, and for a reason. "Unless you have a ready justification for when House Kryze asks, yes, it will be a problem. If it were a landscape or an animal, it wouldn't matter, but the pairing of the colors and the peace lily is an explicit statement of loyalty to Adonai and his heir, Satine. Unless you've suddenly decided to adjust your political stance to total pacifism instead of your Jedi approach, or have another reason to take on House Kryze colors, I'd warn against it at all, and would refuse to perform the work myself."

Ylliben's eyes are fixed somewhere behind her, and shining wetly.

"Okay," the general says. "Ben, do you have any other pallettes in mind?

"These were her colors," Ben whispers, and then he swallows thickly. "I just..."

"Simplify," Skywalker suggests. He fiddles with a necklace half-hidden in his Jedi layers; the japor one is visible, but a dull gold glint is all Na-Tsuyon can see of the other before it's tucked away again. "She'd understand, yeah? There's political ramifications. Dangerous ones, especially to you."

Interesting thing to say about a woman who, by Soka's earlier statements, died well before Ben was born.

They could at least try to stop dropping hints about their oddities. She doesn't want to know more.

"Lilac," Ben finally decides. "And... pale silver. With a filigree pattern in the shading?"

"I can do that," Na-Tsuyon promises.

She does not ask further.

----

"We're moving to Coruscant in a month."

Na-Tsuyon's head snaps up, head tails jolting almost painfully with the movement.

Sokanth is getting her labret, finally. She's gossiping as Hujnak prepares the tools, as usual, and Na-Tsuyon tries to ignore it when they Skywalkers do that, she does, but...

"You're leaving," she repeats, feeling oddly blank.

"Um... yeah?" Soka answers. She scratches at one stubby montral. "We've talked about it before. I thought you knew."

"I didn't realize it was so soon," Na-Tsuyon defends. She's more upset than she should be. "I thought you'd be waiting until the little princess was older."

Sokanth blinks at her, slow and... not judging, no. Evaluating, maybe.

"I'm almost thirteen," she says, slow and deliberate and heavy. "And Ben's eleven. There's no hard age limit for becoming a padawan, but I'm getting into the peak years for getting chosen, and I've been living here instead of in the Temple. I haven't had years to impress a potential Master like the others. That might not matter; sometimes a Master sees their future student and just knows, but... I need to have other Jedi to spar with, not just Skyguy and Ben. And Ben's visions are getting stronger, and Dad was never that good with his own in the first place, so he's worried about being able to help at all. We could stay longer, but..."

She trails off, and shrugs, and the weighted air disappears. "It's not the same thing as a verd'goten, at all, but it's about the same age, you know? I should be in the Temple for it."

"What would a verd'goten equivalent be?" Hujnak prompts, when Na-Tsuyon fails to find her words. "Being an adult and equal member and all such things?"

"Knighthood," Soka answers immediately. "Dad got knighted when he was twenty, but that's really young, usually. His master was knighted at twenty-five, which was a bit late, but apparently there was a whole dramatic thing going on there that Dad never got all the details about."

"Becoming a Padawan is a sign that your teachers see you as someone that is ready to take on the responsibilities of a Jedi, yes?" Hujnak asks. "That you may not be ready to go out on your own, but that you're old enough to understand your oaths and choose how to follow them, and to protect others?"

Sokanth considers this, and then nods. "Yeah, I guess it's similar to using the verd'goten to gauge if someone's ready to swear the Resol'nare, that way. Still not moving out, and just about entering an apprenticeship, but enough of an adult to make the choice of how to change the world."

"I think most cultures have something like that around the same age," Hujnak comments. "Some do it a bit later in the teens, but it's usually around your age that most... well, most cultures who age at the 'human standard' rate--"

Na-Tsuyon can't help the reflexive snort of derision. Neither can Soka. Hujnak, the closest to human in the room and yet still very much not, smiles like this is exactly what he intended.

"--most who age at that rate do have it somewhere in that eleven-to-seventeen range, I'd think."

Soka shrugs. "Yeah, well. Still gotta go to the Temple for it, you know?"

"Are you going to take the verd'goten at all?" Na-Tsuyon asks, suddenly a little desperate to keep the Skywalkers here, with Mandalore and all its people, just a fraction of a moment longer.

"I don't think so," Soka muses. "I've been thinking about it, but I should probably talk about it with Jango, yeah?"

"Yeah," Na-Tsuyon says, and feels like she's swallowing down around rocks.

----

As it turns out, the timing is very deliberate. Three weeks later, Jaster transfers the title of Mand'alor to his son.

(Though Na-Tsuyon does not know this, twenty-six is older than Jango was when he lost the title, once upon another life.)

There is a week of festivity. There is food, and drink, and dancing. Some people get married. Some people make announcements of impending births. Some people reveal songs they composed in preparation for this very day.

For a week, Mandalore celebrates a new king.

Then, the Jedi and his children leave.

(Ben gives Na-Tsuyon a hug before he goes.)

(She tries to understand why she feels like she's losing something when he does.)

#Obi Wan Kenobi #Anakin Skywalker #Ahsoka Tano #Shmi Skywalker #JangoShmi #Jango Fett #Disaster Lineage #star wars #time travel #de aging #mandalore #mandalorian culture #phoenix posts #Anakin and the Jedi Babies #tattoos #original characters #outsider pov #this is part one of three I think #it's two in the diddly darn morning and I am going to bed

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iovchlde · 4 years

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hi!! may i request some reverse comfort headcanons for diluc, kaeya, childe, and xiao? maybe about relationship insecurity or something of that sort??

relationship flaws and insecurities.

no one is perfect— so what exactly are their flaws in a relationship? and what do they feel most conscious of in a relationship?

featuring diluc, kaeya, childe, xiao

diluc

he feels that he might scare you off with his overprotectiveness. he’s already lost someone before, and he doesn’t think he can handle losing you either.

it’s not that he wants to control your life— in fact, he wants you to live it to its full extent. but there’s always that small worry, an annoying voice, in the back of his head that reminds him that the wilderness of teyvat is dangerous.

subconsciously, he may find himself interrogating you if you plan on leaving the house early in the morning, or late at night. there’ll be times where small quarrels stem from this, and inevitably it can get heated sometimes.

if you walk out on him for more hours than what feels comfortable, to cool off, he might start to think if you’ve left him for good.

diluc’s sitting at the edge of the bed, and there’s a consistent tapping on the floor as he anxiously drums his foot against it. it’s way past his assigned time to sleep, knowing he has to be up early to run his business. he doesn’t have half the mind to check what time it is, at least, not right now. all he can think about is that you’ve been gone for way too long.

he expects this from the two of you, especially after a heated argument. you two take the time away from one another to cool off and collect your thoughts, but this? this is just outrageous. if he were to give an estimate for how long you’d been gone— it would be two hours longer than you’d typically be gone for. and this just feeds into his worries from earlier, about your well-being.

the whole fight was about you and your safety after all. you would tell him that you’re fully capable of looking out for yourself; he’d say that he has enemies who may come after you; it goes back-and-forth. sensing that the argument was getting nowhere, you took it upon yourself to see yourself out first. “let’s just,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “let’s just take time to cool off for a bit, shall we?”

“it’s been longer than a bit,” he mutters to himself.

he’s snapped out his thoughts as he hears the bedroom doors open slowly. you peek your head in, just to make eye contact with diluc. you two freeze, simply caught off-guard in the moment. he notes how your hair is a mess— it sticks out in certain areas, and obviously has not been brushed down— and you look a bit rugged. “hey,” you mutter sheepishly.

he wonders if he should ask you where you’ve been, but he holds his tongue. “are you okay?” diluc asks instead, and there’s a certain tenderness in his voice as he addresses you. “you look a bit... rough.”

you snort, throwing a feign hand of offense over your chest, at his words. “gee, thanks. nice to know i’m looking very appealing right now.” you joke. he stares at you, but you can see the faint smile on his lips at the way you’re joking around already. it’s good to know that you two are still okay. “but to answer your question, yes. i simply tripped over a pebble— it was so dark out and my foot got caught. who would’ve known that a pebble would be the one to take me down.”

he laughs at this, and you feel the tension from the argument completely lift.

kaeya

he’ll often wonder if you’re slowly becoming untrusting of him. he’s generally reserved, and quite mysterious— and it could easily be read in the wrong way.

kaeya knows that a relationship is all about communication and trust, well, for it to be healthy at least. and for the most part, he’s pretty open with you.

but there’s still certain aspects of his life that keeps in the dark from you. from his unknown past, to the business he does out of the knight of favonius— he likes that you look up to him as a respectable knight.

sometimes, you’ll ask him why he has duties to attend to at the dead of night, to which he reassuringly tells you that he’s simply off to bother diluc at the tavern. but he knows you’re catching on— diluc hasn’t seen him in the tavern for quite a bit.

“i know you haven’t been at the tavern.” you finally speak up, and you keep your eyes trained on the plate of food in front of you. you dig at the food, poking it around with your utensils— anything to keep your mind off of the fact that your heart is slightly racing right now. you don’t mean to be confrontational, but to be frank, you’re fed up that kaeya hasn’t been honest with you. “you can say that it came as a surprise to me when diluc said you hadn’t been there for a while now.”

“i guess it was only a matter of time before you’d ask diluc about me, and my whereabouts.” he sighs. he’s leaned into his chair by now, and he’s looking at you. your lips are locked into a tight line, a little peeved at the way he still talks so smoothly, and treats this so casually. as if he weren’t taking this seriously, and that this was just some other conversation to him. “i’m simply handling nightly duties.”

your grip becomes slightly tighter around your utensils, and he notices; your knuckles are turning slightly white, and your breathing is slightly out of pace. there’s a small change in his expression, and you can see the way his eyes narrow slightly.

“does it hurt to be honest to me about these things?” you ask him, genuinely hurt at the way it feels like he doesn’t trust you enough. “as your significant other, i guess i’d expected you to be more open to me. i’ve already told you countless times that no matter what, i’ll stick around— and even right now, i mean those words.”

once i tell, there’s no going back, is what he wishes to say. that it’ll be hard to look at someone the same way you’ve done before. “look,” he says as he sighs. kaeya wracks his mind for a way to respond— in a way where he wouldn’t be lying, but he wouldn’t subject you to danger either. “these matters, my nightly duties if you will, are matters between the abyss order and i. i’m afraid that if i tell you anything more about what goes on, you’ll become a target as well. too much knowledge can be harmful.”

“and you couldn’t just tell me that from the get-go?” it’s a fair point, and he throws you an apologetic look from across the table. “i understand, okay? just,” you swipe a hand through your hair. “no more secrets. i don’t think i’ll be as understanding if there’s a next time.”

“of course, my love.”

childe

he fears that one day, he’ll come home and you won’t be there anymore; his involvement with the fatui doesn’t make it any better.

the fatui is known for... it’s notorious deeds, to put it lightly. he had warned you beforehand, that dating a fatui harbinger will be exhausting. mentally, that is.

he’s bloodthirsty and thrill-seeking— it’s his nature. but he knows you don’t agree with the brutal ways the fatui handles their business, and he tries his best to take your mind off of it.

but it’s hard to ignore the words that circulate around liyue about certain things that he’s been up to. childe wonders that if you’ll get fed up one day, and just leave him.

there’s always a small amount of anxiety that bubbles up within childe whenever he approaches the doors of your shared bedroom. there’s that slightly irrational fear that he’ll walk in, and the room will be empty; you won’t be beneath the sheets in deep sleep, and your small breaths wouldn’t fill the room. his hand is hovering over the doorknob, and he almost laughs. a man like him, who stares death in its eyes, too afraid to open the door in fear that he’ll see something he doesn’t like.

childe gathers the courage to twist the knob, and the door creaks softly as he pushes it open. he pauses halfway, the fear taking over him for a second, but pushes through. he lets out an audible breath of relief— seeing you alive and well in front of him, and the comforts of just seeing that. his shoulders slack visibly at the confirmation, and he allows himself to enter the room.

he strips himself of clothes that he’s worn outside, changing into ones more fitting for bed. he’d jump straight into your arms if he could— but he knows that even in a sleepy state, you would still scold him.

he stalks towards the bed after doing the necessities. you stir at the way the bed dips beside you, feeling a pair of strong arms wrap around you. “childe?” you mutter. your voice is laced with sleepiness having just awoken, and you’re rubbing at your eyes as you turn to face him. it takes a second for your brain to start functioning, and you blurt out the first word that comes to mind. “hi.”

“hi to you too,” he mirrors, a small smile gracing his lips. your eyes are barely open as you glance at him, and your words are slightly slurred— but despite that, he truly thinks he’s the luckiest man in the world that he has someone as good as you. someone who sticks around, despite his affiliation. “i’ve missed you a lot, y’know.” he says.

“i missed you more,” you challenge, even in your sleep driven state.

he chuckles at you, before pressing a small kiss to your nose. “sure, sure. let’s fight about who misses each other more in the morning, okay?”

xiao

he’ll often doubt why you’re with him— and wonder if there’ll ever be a day where you run out of patience with him.

he’s getting better with affection, and he’s not finding it as weird as he had before. he doesn’t initiate things, still too embarrassed about the last time he failed to hug you. he wants things to be intimate, but there are still times where he flinches if you touch his hand or hug him, after forgetting to give him a heads up.

you always smile at him, and tell him that you care for his comfort the most. he can see the pain behind your smile though— almost a year of dating and he still hasn’t warmed up to you.

xiao still doesn’t fully understand the logic and need behind affection. but what he does know is that humans seek affection. they are social beings after all. knowing that, he worries that you’ll eventually want someone else who can give you the affection that you deserve.

“i’m sorry,” xiao apologizes in a panic. he was so thrown off-guard and so deep in his thought, that when you’d given him a back hug, he had reacted more violently than intended. thus, he had instinctively pushed you off his shoulder. it was hard to miss the flash of hurt in your eyes as you stumbled back, a little baffled, not expecting xiao to react in a such a way. “i... i apologize for that, y/n.”

it’s easy to notice the literal distance between you two and he reaches out for you, to which he stops himself midway. there’s just something that feels so wrong about touching you right now, especially after he’d just shoved you— it doesn’t feel right. even to now, he’s still scared of touching you. he finds himself getting frustrated at the way that he just can’t wrap his head around doing things in a romantic aspect. even he’s running out of patience with himself, so why do you still have so much?

you notice the way his hand stops, and you can see the countless of emotions within his eyes as he stares at his hands. there’s little glimpses of worry, of self-doubt, and you can tell right now that he’s being critical of himself. you don’t blame him for reacting that way, now that you look back on it in hindsight. anyone would’ve reacted like that as a form of self-defense.

“it’s alright, xiao, it really is.” you reassure him. “don’t be too harsh on yourself, okay? i said we’d take it as slow as we have to, and i plan on keeping my word for that. now... may i?” you gesture to his outstretched hand. he gives you a blank look at first, but nods slowly.

you take his hands in yours— you take your time to link your fingers, intertwining them and appreciating the way they mold together perfectly. you let him feel the way you draw soothing circles on the back of his hand. it’s such a simple action, but it flows with intimacy, and it has a weird feeling erupting in his stomach. (butterflies, he recalls you telling him.)

“see this?” you raise your linked hands. “if this is what you’re comfortable with at the moment, then i’m more than willing to hold hands for as long as you want.”

he wonders if you’ll grow impatient with him— but for now, he’s reassured you’ll stick around.

author’s note.

i’ve put this off for so long, and i intended on keeping it short— but then i felt bad and so i decided to indulge just a little

#genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #genshin diluc #genshin xiao #genshin kaeya #genshin childe #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader

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lets-steal-an-archive · 4 years

Text

We've mentioned before, but every con we do could in theory be used to pull apart the real-world equivalent of the mark. This is one of the reason we have consultants like Apollo Robbins, or sometimes talk to high-level campaign finance experts or US Attorneys. Fiction, where you can bend and twist the rules, is made enormously easier when you force yourself to play by the rules as you break the story. This is a personal issue I have with some con and heist shows. Two lifts and a fake name don't make a con show, they make a particularly aggressive Rockford Files. Of course, this is probably more about my obsession with systems than it is about the bare minimum requirement for audience entertainment.

There was one truly odd moment, after three days of trying to break this thing, where I said: "Jesus, we've pulled corrupt money-laundering apart, international cyber-cons, kleptocratic hustles -- and we cannot break this fucking cheerleading scam. The real version of it is just too ironclad."

Downey: "This web of companies looks like a mob breakdown on The Sopranos."

Me: "Okay, so how do you bring down the mob?"

Downey (who, you will remember, is a former white collar defense attorney): "RICO Act. It's ridiculously broad."

That's how a cut-down version of the RICO Act wound up on the writer's room wall. The key, of course, being that you need to commit TWO acts of racketeering activity. So while half the room banged various combos of offenses off the walls ("Kidnapping and criminal copyright infringement?"), we tackled the other big problem --

-- we can't write a cheerleading episode.

By which I mean, it obeys none of the structural parameters which allow us to make Leverage on a weekly basis. There aren't really enough "hats" for the characters in cheerleading. Coach, cheerleader, maybe judge ... there's no inherent threat of violence or prosecution or meddling law enforcement. What's the real-time (used to be fourth) fifth Act sequence as we tempo up heading into the back of the show?

Again, back to the research. Jeremy had talked to several groups who were trying to change the cheerleading rules, primarily by trying to get it declared as a sport, where Title IX safety rules would kick in. These groups' primary frustration was in the politics of the situation -- which for once fell on both sides of the aisle. Generalizing roughly, Conservatives didn't want to establish that sort of excess regulation, Liberals didn't want Title IX money being diverted to cheerleading from other women's sports. Few friends on either side.

Well, there you go. Despite assumptions by some of our viewers, we try to stay very even-handed on the political spectrum on the few times we venture into politics. My policy is alway that the primary split in politics is along the money/power axis, and there are plenty of R's and D's chasing both. We'd never done a Congressional episode, and Congress is a lovely, complicated, antiquated ramshackle system all based in a one big, swinging doors-French farce worthy building. Aces. We came up with some prototypical Congresspeople, assigned unlikely humans to deal with them, and turned loose the Fun Train.

LEVERAGE #505 "The 'Gimme a K' Street Job" Post-Game

#leverage #john rogers #the gimme a k street job #kung fu monkey blog #criming #rico act #on writing #q tag

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buckyhoney-library · 3 years

Text

volume control, b.b

A/N: Hope all is well, please give me feedback about what you think about this one, I had a lot of fun writing this one!

Request: Hi, I'm not sure if your taking requests right now. But if you are, could you do a Bucky x reader smut where the reader loses her voice so Bucky tries to see how loud she can get in bed without her voice? Thank you. You're an amazing writer.

Warnings: language, 18+, overstimulation, oral (fem rec), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (no glove, no love)

Word Count: 2.8k

Your POV

The warm ginger flavored tea cooled the burning sensation of my throat. It seemed to be the only thing that I had tried that had calmed the feeling. Laryngitis had made an appearance this week, completely wrecking the use of my voice. Every time I tried to speak; I sound like a boy going through puberty.

The last couple of days had the worst in terms of soreness- luckily that part is over. All that seems to be left of the illness is the voice cracks and inability to talk about a whisper. It has become more annoying than anything.

Every time respond to Bucky, you could see the amount of self-control it was taking not to laugh or make a joke about the croaking.

Dressed in only black spandex and a t-shirt, I pulled myself off the couch with my empty mug in hand. The couch seemed to be my home for the past week. I had called out of work for the week. Knowing that trying to talk to clients while sounding like a pubescent boy wouldn’t be very professional.

Calling out of work had proven to be more beneficial in more ways than one. It allowed more time to be able to spend more time with my moody boyfriend and catching up on shows that I had been putting off.

Bucky called off his avengers’ duties this week and took care of me while I wrestled with the illness. Trading in his weapons for running to the store to grab more boxes of tea, throat lozenges, and a variety of ramen.

“How many of those have you been though?” Bucky questions walking past me pouring the hot water in my mug.

I pulled out a fresh box, ripping the cardboard lid open. It really did seem like we tried everything to relieve the pain. Spoons of honey, throat lozenges, saltwater, nothing helped other than tea. This means I have been drinking it like a madwoman.

“This is the second box since last night,” My voice cracking at the end. We’re making slight progress, the voice cracks getting further apart. I gesture to the bottle of honey; he grabs it from the counter handing it to me, shaking his head.

“You should probably slow down, you’re not gonna have enough for later.”

“That’s why I have you to get me more,” This time he doesn’t hold back on the laughs when he hears the faint cracks and strain. I turn back around in protest of his action, pretending to be upset at him.

In reality, it was hard to stay irritated with him when he laughs. The pureness of the sound and the smile that would take up his whole face never failed to make me smile.

He comes up from behind me, wrapping his arm around my torso. With his body pressing against mine, the coolness of the metal against my arms sent shivers down my spine. The hair on his chin tickling my shoulder, watching me as I finish pouring the honey.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, you’re not feeling good” He mumbles, his lips nipping at the base of my neck. Moving my neck to the side, granting him more access to it.

Bucky peppering kisses along my neck and shoulder. This action causing me to giggle and buck my hips against his and gripping the edge for the counter for support. A small breathy groan leaves his mouth when my hips made contact with his.

“I’m feeling fine now,” I manage to whisper without the croaking sound. He twists my waist, forcing my body to turn and face his. I look up at his blue eyes, they were darker than normal. His facial hair grown out a bit making him look softer and cuddlier.

“You sound better,” Bucky taunted, his voice had gotten lower and his eyes looking down at the gap between our bodies.

“Does it?” As soon as I thought my voice wasn’t going to crack, the words fall out cracked and broken. Ruining the seriousness of my tone.

Bucky rolls his lips in holding back a laugh.

“So good, baby,” Bucky slides his hands underneath the bottom of my shirt.

A breathy whine escaping my lips, feeling his cool hand along the sides of my hips. His eyebrows rose at the sound,

“You sound so sexy,” His tone lowered and his eyes piercing mine. I pressed my body to him, wrapping my bare arms around his neck. His lips connecting with mine and his arms pulling me tighter, trying to eliminate any and all space between us.

I can feel his bulge forming against my pelvis- all because of a moan.

Sinking into each other, our lips matching in rhythm and pace. A raspy yelp leaving my lips as I feel a harsh smack against my right ass cheek. Completely forgetting the only thing separating it was thin spandex- Bucky’s favorite article of clothing. He says it is one of his favorite things that we have created.

He liked the way it made my ass jiggle and moved with whenever I took a step. He especially went crazy when they’re rid up when I’d grab something from the top shelf in the kitchen, exposing the bottoms of my ass. He never failed to smack it, sometimes leaving his handprint through the fabric.

Bucky’s flesh hand grabbing a fist full of ass and jiggling it himself. His release of the flesh causing me to whine again.

The bulge that was currently trapped in his basketball shorts, started to throb. If only I could take it in my mouth and relieve all the pent-up pressure.

Bucky’s lips moved away from mine but kissing alongside my jawline and down my throat. His hands now gripping my hips preparing me to jump back onto the kitchen island. I jumped, allowing him to guide me onto the cold granite.

With his lips disconnecting from the side of my neck, his eyes peering into mine. It’s as if I could read his mind, knowing exactly what he wants. All I do is nod,

“I want to hear you moan, baby,” His hands teasing the waistband of the spandex. Dipping his fingers inside, but not going far. The feeling making my cunt moisten.

Bucky’s true talent was his ability to tease. He was never in a rush, always took his time making sure that I was dripping before even daring to pull his dick out. It was like he got off on that the sight of the arousal dripping down the sides of my cunt.

“I want to see if you can still get loud,” My breath hitches, and my core tightening. My chest rises and falls heavier at the thought.

As vocal as I am in bed, Bucky never put to the test how loud I could go. He was always satisfied with how vocal I ended being. What he loved, even more, was seeing me struggle to keep quiet. Teasing my clit with his fingers till I couldn’t help but moan.

Bucky’s fingers starting in slow circles, watching me twitch and shudder. He’d dip his fingers inside gathering all the juices and using it to add pleasure. He’d moan at the sight of how visibly hard it was for me to stay silent. Some nights, he’d give me a towel or blanket to bite down on. Other nights, he’d want to see me struggle and wouldn’t give me anything to help.

The moment I would make even the tiniest of whimpers, the pleasure would be ripped from me and I would be left not being able to cum till I could prove I could do it.

Those nights he was ruthless. Edging me till I was in tears.

Every time he’d pull away, making it almost painful to stay quiet the next time.

I spread my legs giving him access to the place that was about to cause me a great deal of regret. His fingers slide inside the waistband of the shorts, bucking my hips at the contact. His fingers quickly being removed before they touched my clit.

“You fucking tease,” My voice was barely audible, his lips curl into a devilish smirk. Without any sort of permission, I removed my shirt. My breast dropped and Bucky’s eyes flickered to my bare chest, lighting up instantly. My nipples already hardening at exposure to the cold air.

Within seconds, Bucky taking one in his mouth and his hand squeezing and kneading the other harshly. Eagerly tugging on my nipple with his teeth and soothing it with his tongue. I whimpered with every tug. I could see the smile on his face when I looked down.

I wrapped my arms loosely around his head, keeping him focused on my breast. The only movement being when he’d move off the other giving attention to it. The nipping and tugging making my cunt completely soaked. I could feel it soaking through the spandex. The harsh treatment towards my breasts making the ache between my legs so strong, I thought Bucky could feel it.

Bucky took his time giving each breast a moment to be assaulted, leaving them both sore. I silently prayed that my cunt was next.

Bucky pulled away from my breasts, removing his shirt. The sight of his abdomen and dog tags, causing my pussy to throb a little harder. He places lips on my collarbone, slowly laying back on the counter and shoving the opened mail and assignment files on the floor.

The combination of the cold granite and his hand made my back arch. He placed small kisses down my stomach till he got to my naval- that’s when he started to drag his tongue down till he got to the band of my spandex. I hold my breath as he removes my shorts, finally exposing my slick cunt.

I pushed my hips into the counter motioning the need for something to relieve the throbbing.

“So pretty, baby…” Bucky murmurs sliding his middle finger down the sopping wet folds, teasing my entrance. His finger only sliding into the first knuckle, he still standing while he does so. A scratchy moan getting past my lips.

“Yes, baby, I want to hear you.” Without warning he inserts two fingers and curling them, hitting the spongey tissue. My walls start contracting.

My throat tensing as I unexpectedly whine at the feeling.

“Good girl, I know you can get louder.” Bucky eyes not leaving mine, I am now propped on my elbows and grinding my hips into his fingers. He adds his metal thumb to my clit, rubbing the bud at an agonizingly slow pace. Bucky removed his fingers from my cunt, bringing them to my lips.

I open my lips enough for his fingers to enter. I sucked the clean, tasting myself. The saliva from my mouth being used as lubrication before he slid them back inside. The circles around my clit become faster. Our eyes met and his pace quickened. My jaw-dropping from the pure pleasure of his fingers. His mouth dropping with mine and his eyes darkened as he watched my body start to jerk.

A string of curses left my mouth and my vocal cords struggling to get any sound out.

“You’re doing so good” I laid back down, feeling my limbs fall weak to the feeling of my orgasm approaching. The soreness of my throat getting tighter, but not caring.

Bucky crouched down coming eye to eye with my cunt, still fingering fucking my entrance. His thumb left my clit, but it was replaced with his lips. His tongue swirling around the bud. His facial hair scratching the sides of my legs adding more sensation down there. His fingers haven’t stopped, if anything they had gotten faster.

My eyes rolling back, not being able to properly keep them open. I groaned and gasped at the fast-approaching orgasm. There was no denying that this would wreck my voice even more than it was before, but the feeling of his tongue and fingers making the future pain bearable.

“Fuck!” I went into pure ecstasy. I jerked my hips towards his mouth, my lower half becoming incredibly sensitive. Bucky doesn’t even seem to notice my body twitching. I gripped the kitchen towel beside me,

“Bucky, I-“ I was interrupted by his fingers curling again hurling me over the edge. My throat tensing again, it felt like it was bleeding inside.

Bucky continues to attack my cunt with his tongue. His fingers leave my hole and join his other hand holding my hips down. I didn’t know how much more of the pleasure I could take.

“Such a good girl, you taste so good.” His voice muffled against my throbbing pussy as he licks the rest of the arousal up. I manage to prop myself up again, our eyes meeting again.

His mouth glistening from my juices. His eyes don’t break eye contact, staring at me as a string of spit drips onto my clit. I watched in awe of him, he licks it up flicking my cunt one last time. My body has cooled down from the brutal assault.

“You’re doing so well, princess.” He brought himself up, I see the wet spot against his briefs. He was soaked through with precum. The tip was red and swollen, looking like it was going to burst with only a few strokes.

“But I know you can do better,” I sit up completely and watch as he frees his dick. It’s glistening with his liquid, reach to take hold of it in my hand. Bucky stops my hand from doing so, guiding it around his neck. Bucky gives his cock a few strokes, before sliding it up and down my folds.

His cock twitching against them.

The harsh usage of my voice was starting to affect my ability to even get any sound out at all.

Bucky pushes slowly into me and in return, I clawed at his back. Our bodies have no room in between us anymore, my forehead pressed against his shoulder. His pace quickening. His cock stretching my walls and filling my cunt. The size of him never fails to amaze me.

With all I might, I managed to croak out a shocking volume:

“Faster, please Bucky,” He whined at the sound of my raspy plead.

His thrusts turning into pure pounding at this point. His arms tightly wrapped around my torso. With the support around my back, my head falls back at the feeling of his cock ramming into me.

“You’re doing so good taking my dick,” He peppers kisses around my throat and collarbone.

My nails digging into his skin.

My moans are loud, and the pain of my throat was masked by the intense pleasure building in my stomach. I couldn’t even think with his cock inside me. My orgasm building as his pace becomes inconsistent. He was close as well.

I was surprised he lasted this long considering how he went in, already wanting to cum. All that was coming out of my mouth were a mix of curses and moans. His eyes lighting up with every sound that fell from my lips.

“I don’t how much more I can take,” My voice was in shreds, it was painful trying to speak at this point, but I couldn’t conceal them anymore. Not with his current speed and power.

“Cum all over this dick,” With his approval, my walls start pulsating and my forehead falls back against his shoulder. I watched his dick disappear inside me while I cried in pleasure, my legs quivering at the intense pleasure.

Tears welling as the pain in my throat was becoming too much. Bucky powered through my orgasm, before his cock twitching inside me. His load bursting inside me. Bucky holds us in the same position while we are recovering from our highs. My pussy is milking every last drop of him, whimpering one last time as he pulls out.

My breathing still heavy and the piercing pain in the back of my mouth becoming more prominent. I lay back against the counter, catching my breath.

“You got so loud, baby, I’m so proud of you,” Bucky coos while grabbing the kitchen towel that I was previously using as a grip.

He glides the fabric against my cunt, whipping away his cum that was leaking out of me. I twitch with the contact with my clit. He takes my hands and pulls me back up to meet his eyes. I try to speak but wince at the pain shooting through my throat like daggers. His face instantly filling with worry.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have- “He begins to panic, but I grab his wrists,

“It’s okay,” The only volume I could speak in being below a whisper. I hop off the table picking up my discarded clothes, sliding them back on. I bend down, picking up his briefs, and hand them to him.

“It was worth it,” I chuckle. He takes the briefs from me and looks at the abandoned mug.

“I’ll just have to get you more,”

#Bucky Barnes #Sebastian Stan #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes imagine

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ihavenocluedude · 2 years

Text

Major Conveniences ~ part 5

Klitz (The Girl Next Door) x fem!reader

Link to my main masterlist Link to reading this on Ao3

Masterlist for Major Conveniences

A/N - IT’S FINALLY FKN HERE! I’ve been sick TWICE since the last part and life’s been knocking me on my ass consistently lately. BUT! I’ve finally posted the fifth part! It is slightly shorter from how long I intended it to be at first but “the rest of it” so to speak is going to have to be the next part. Bc I’ve been working too long on thiiiiiis.

Not me searching up Yale’s libraries rules... And so much else about Yale and a little about Georgetown for this fic. I’m dedicated af. Even though I probably don’t need to be. I think I definitely could get by with only using my Gilmore Girls knowledge of Yale.

This text might be my most rewritten, and rewritten, and rewritten piece ever, I’m pretty sure my latest rewrite of this (that I just finished) was like at least my fifth or seventh look over it all. That might be because this is once again hella self indulgent... but uhm... yeah. idc.

Word Count - 5 401

Overthinking would hardly ever be a solution to anything. Unless the problem itself could be solved through analysis. Therefore, when it comes to a situation like this. Where you’re going to meet someone, obviously not knowing what they’re going to say or how it’s all going to go in general… it cannot be solved by overthinking.

Picturing every little possible situation is not even possible. Especially when you don’t know them and your mind is quite obviously fixed on the thought that you’re going to screw this up somehow.

It wasn’t the only thing on your mind. But it definitely took up a large chunk of your thoughts ever since the moment Klitz told you that they were going to visit.

Eli, Matt, and Danielle had booked a hotel just five minutes from campus.

It was going to take Matt and his girlfriend a couple of hours to drive up from DC. And it would take even longer for Eli to fly from Los Angeles. But then they’d just be here. Five minutes away. Which was more than a little nerve-racking. But the whole situation, in general, could be described as such.

But it wasn’t as if your nerves had been able to calm down at any point the last few days anyway. A lot of studying and additionally feeling as if there was nowhere on campus that you could feel comfortably alone. You’d rather be alone with Klitz. But at this point, you’d accept to be alone by yourself anywhere that wasn’t just one of the bathrooms.

Going to college is certainly a socializing experience and something that makes you get ’out there’ in the world or whatever one would say. But it also tears down any sort of resemblance of privacy.

So when feeling as if everything in the world is crashing down upon you, you crash onto your bed. You’d been lying face down in your bed for probably… way too long after getting back from your last lecture of the day.

Your roommate at her desk working on some assignment, her fingers annoyingly tapping against her desk as she reads through the pages of some course literature. Sometimes pausing her tapping to pick up her pen and scribble a few notes down.

And then there was a knock at the door.

”Come in!” Both of you shouted at the same time, the door creaked open, your head twisting to the side to see who it is. Klitz. ”Ah, the boyfriend. I’m not going to the library.” She quickly stated, returning to her actions of clicking her nails against the desk and turned her head back to the book.

”Hi baby.” You mumbled, not getting up from your position as Klitz climbs onto your bed beside you. Brushed his hand upwards on your back before settling softly at the end of your neck. A small hum rising out of you in the contentment of his touch. Which made him decide to continue stroking your back instead.

”Can I take you somewhere?”

”But I’m so comfortable.” Groaned with a small smile, ”Lay with me instead. -that sounds sort of wrong. I just meant for cuddles. For now…”

”I’ve got something planned for us.”

”Oh, yeah okay. Just a second Klitzy.” You grumbled as you slowly pushed yourself up, sat in your bed, and rubbed your eyes a little before looking at Klitz. His hair was sort of frizzy, wearing a sweatshirt and a jacket. Clearly just in from the cold weather outside by the way his cheeks were already lightly flushed. ”Cute.”

”You always call me cute, haven't got another word for me?”

”I call you other things too.” You remarked softly, leaning your head onto his shoulder and looking up at him. Slithering your arms around his body under the jacket.

”Could you guys please do this anywhere else?” Your roommate questioned, annoyance heard loudly within her tone. Klitz’s face instantly became a bit redder as his head turned towards her first and then back to you. Her comment made you feel forced to slip your head off of his shoulder and look over at her, her own eyes still focused on her desk.

”You’re just jealous, Ms. Single-lady.” A teasing tone in your voice and yet you decided to get moving. Hopped out of your bed and picked up Klitz’s hand, dragging him with you out of the bed. Only releasing his hand to put on your shoes at the door. ”But yes, we’re going. Klitz, show me the way!”

He grabbed the hoodie hanging on your door, that he knows is actually his, and leads the two of you out of the room. Stuffing you into the hoodie right before you head outside. The sky just slightly darkened the way the sky usually looks late afternoons in the winter.

”S’cold outside.” He mumbled softly, hooking the hood of the hoodie over your head. His hands readjusting your hair so it’s all inside the hoodie too. ”C’mon babe.”

”Why babe?”

”You call me baby, why not babe?”

”I guess that’s fair. But, baby is cuter.”

”Is it?”

”It is. It’s probably scientifically proven that it is cuter.” You argued with a chuckle before adding on another argument to your thesis, ”Baby, honey, sweetpea, babe.” saying the first few words in a sing-songy voice before you scoffed out the word babe. Took his hand in yours and opened the door as you headed out into the Connecticut December cold.

Both shaking and shivering once you got into the building Klitz led you to. One of the libraries. Your eyebrows instantly scrunched up in slight confusion. ”So what are we doing in the library without anything to study?”

”It’s a surprise.”

”They aren’t here already are they?” Matt, Danielle, and Eli couldn’t be here already, there were several days before they should be. Just the possibility of them being there made you shiver once again even after having warmed up.

”No.”

”Are we just going to sit and read something? I do have books in my dorm room y’know?” Klitz shook his head and started to lead you somewhere. ”Are we going to… find a corner to hide in together?” You asked with a more mischievous tone than before, Klitz’s eyes flitted to you quickly. His cheeks couldn’t get any redder by now but it felt like they did anyway. Then he shook his head again. ”So what are we doing?”

”Just wait a second.”

”Fine.” You relented with a chuckle at his slightly exasperated tone. His hand in yours, his hands still somehow warm even with the cold temperature you had walked through. He led you between the shelves, walking past students who were actually studying, and mumbled a quick embarrassed greeting to the librarian you bumped into. And yet, it felt like no time at all before you saw what he had led you to.

It was one of the study rooms one could reserve for a few hours. The ones students would hoard when it’s time for exams.

The study lamps so bright they’d give you a headache if you’re in there too long. The chairs so uncomfortable you’d have to stand up from time to time. The rooms usually crowded by the large table. But then Klitz opened the door.

And it wasn’t cramped at all. No big table taking up most of the room, no uncomfortable chairs, and although the usual study lamp was there it was covered by something to dim the light. The room was considerably darker than usual without being black-out dark. The covered study lamp in one corner and Klitz’s backpack in the other.

It looked cozy. It looked like a lot of work for a person who’d definitely be terrified of asking the librarians for permission for something like this. But… it was sweet. So infinitely, incredibly sweet.

And you’re for once, in weeks, not going to be surrounded by other people. A room where you’d be able to only feel the presence of Klitz. No roommate in the same room or anything.

”I… I set it up for us.” It sounded more like a question than a statement. He lightly dropped your hand and gestured to the room before running one of his hands through his hair as an excuse to duck his head a little. Trying to avoid your eyes as they flickered around the room, trying to take everything in. ”Please say something?”

Instead, you kissed him. Your hand reached up as you made him look at you. ”You’re-”

”Don’t say cute.”

”I wasn’t going to. You are. But… you’re just.. amazing.” You replied in awe to his slightly whiney retort as you rested your other hand on the side of his face, stroked his cheek once with your thumb before you put your hand under his chin instead and guided him back to you. Kissing him again.

Maybe it was all cliche… VERY cliche. But that doesn’t mean that it isn’t also wonderful. Klitz had proven to be sort of kliche anyway. Giving you his hoodies, constantly trying to warm you up, and now some sort of grand gesture?

”So... what do you have planned?”

”Just us, here. I thought… y’know since you’ve been talking about the whole alone thing? Privacy and-” Klitz rambled before you cut his sentence off softly.

”Klitz, I get it, thank you.”

”Cool… So I have drinks and some snacks, though… I think we’re not allowed to eat them here?” Klitz explained after he’d released a sigh of relief. Sitting down and picking up his backpack and started to unload the items he’d brought with him.

~~~

It was so quiet, Klitz’s heartbeat could be heard clearly as you rested your head on his chest. One of your hands twiddling with one of his. His other hand carefully stroking the back of your neck, his movements just a slight difference away from tickling you.

You’d missed this. Being this close to him was one of the things you’d not gotten to do quite as much due to the whole privacy thing. PDA is an option, but even if you were to do public displays of affection it wouldn’t be like this.

It would get strained, cuddling in the presence of roommates. And yet you’d have to sort of adjust to it if you wanted to be near him the last couple of weeks. So this, this was perfection.

His hands almost always going around in an almost fidgeting pattern. Fidgeting in the way that he plays with your hair, or strokes your back, or traces his fingers on your waist. Meanwhilst you’re there, going along with his fidgeting. Linking your hands together one second before releasing them one second later, tracing your fingers against each others before maybe even settling somewhere else.

”Should I be anxious of the whole… meeting your best friends thing?” You had found yourself asking him once you felt calm enough to think about the anxiety inducing event.

”No. Not at all.” Klitz chuckled almost offhandedly as if it was ridiculous to even think that. ”Do you want me to call them and tell them to fuck off?” he then asked with a small smile. He knew that Eli would probably cause a fit. Well at least try to. Klitz hadn’t been there when Eli threw the tantrum at Matt about fucking Danielle ’for him’ but he could just imagine the scene he caused. And he could definitely imagine a similar ruckus about this.

But this situation would entail Eli probably ambushing them with a visit instead of coming invited.

”I couldn’t ask you to do that. Besides, I- I sort of want to meet them and you’ve already probably tried to tell them to fuck off.”

”When Eli first said he wanted to meet you I just sort of said no.” He hadn’t expected it to work, it obviously hadn’t, but it had been worth a try to at least.

But that sentence is definitely something that can be interpreted in several ways... Perfectly said for an overthinker to overthink about.

”Why?”

”I don’t… I don’t want you to have to meet them. Eli’s… a lot. And Matt is less but can sometimes also be more?” Klitz tried to explain before adding on ”And… you’re- you’re perfect.”

”You’re perfect too, Klitzy.” You mumbled back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. ”But. As I said, I do sort of want to meet them too. I’m just- It’s sort of terrifying? I mean it feels like a big deal? What if they don’t like me? What if… What if we have nothing to talk about?”

”That’s not going to be a problem. Eli will probably try to tell you everything he knows about me. In vivid detail.”

”Yeah?”

”Absolutely.”

The urge to say ’I love you’ to Klitz is overwhelming at times.

Wanting to see his reaction. Wanting to see if he’d say it back. Knowing your heart would probably break if he didn’t. Hoping to see his eyes sort of sparkle like they did the first time you kissed him, the first time you actually made out, the first time he saw you wearing his hoodie and the big the first time.

But this moment wasn’t the moment to tell him.

~~~

You'd fallen asleep on top of him just a while later. The two of you still nuzzled together in the middle of the study room. A pillow under his head, yours still rested on his chest, his heartbeat having lulled you to sleep.

Although he knew that your day-to-day stess would come back. That the calm and the perfect feeling of this moment would not be able to last for forever. At least he could do this for you.

He was also pretty suddenly proud of the fact that he had chosen one of the libraries with the latest closing time. Plenty of hours left until he'd have to wake you up. Plenty of hours before he'd pack up the room set it back to normal and walk you back to your dorm room. Plenty of hours before he'd sadly have to walk back to his own dorm room.

He had thought about how Matt and Danielle live together. Thought about what that would be like with you. He knew that it'd be way too early for that at this point. But he still wanted it. But he could wait.

~ ~ ~

He was going to Connecticut. Matthew Kiddman was going to Connecticut. Just because Eli thought it'd be fun to meet Klitz's girlfriend. Or rather Eli had demanded that he would get to meet her and then somehow made Matt think that he should go too.

And now as he sat in his apartment he was mostly questioning how?

He didn't mind going, he thought it would be fun after all. See Klitz, see Eli, go on a road trip with Danielle up to Connecticut, and of course the main thing; meet Klitz's girlfriend. Although road trips in the winter seemed a bit risky when he truly thought about it. But it felt too late to change by the time they had packed their things into Danielle’s car and were just fixing the last-minute things.

”You ready?”

”Yeah, why wouldn't I be?” He questioned back as he sat down in the passenger seat of her car. A packed duffel for the both of them sitting in the backseat. The car was still in a freezing temperature as it hadn't warmed up fully yet.

”I didn't mean anything more than 'ready to go?'.” She smirked at him and breathed out a small chuckle. ”Are you nervous about this?”

”No.” He started but Danielle could see the usual 'Matt mulling it over' look on his face, ”I don't know. I just hope it goes well.”

”Perfectionist.”

”Am not.”

”You are. But it's sweet.”

~ ~ ~

Eli was sitting in his first-class plane seat bouncing his leg constantly. Thank fuck there was no one sitting next to him. He could just imagine the annoyed stares of disdain he'd get whilst sitting there bouncing his leg, chewing his gum, and reading through a magazine loudly flipping the pages.

Instead, the stare of disdain came from at least a row away.

The older lady looked back over her shoulder to stare at the young man she seemed convinced had cheated his way into first class. The whole situation just made him wish that he would've brought a naughtier magazine. One that wasn't all rumors, tips, and interviews with people who worked within showbiz but not his kind of showbiz. But he didn't really feel like joining the mile-high club on his own.

But he also didn't know what the hell to do for the rest of the total about seven-hour flight. He had at least three hours left and nothing to do. Except to maybe start talking to the lady. Nah.

Eli was happy with how life after high school looked for now. He'd gotten to skip college by climbing straight to success through the sex-ed video. His calling card. He'd moved to Los Angeles, done a lot of work, and felt like he'd proved himself.

Though his parents maybe weren't the happiest over how he got his success that only made him wonder if they had truly seen their son. Whilst he talked about film school and going into directing and so on the only movies he "studied" in his room for his future career were the kinds that were at least 80 percent filled with moans. Though they probably barely knew that, it felt obvious at the time for him.

He does like other movies too. But he has expertise within pornos. Now even more so.

~ ~ ~

They’d be here within hours. HERE within hours.

”Matt gets here first, with...”

”Danielle.”

”Right Danielle. And then Eli gets to the airport like a little later?”

”Yeah.”

”So we meet up with Matt and Danielle and then go pick up Eli?” You questioned softly although your actions were showing the anxiety rushing through you. Your feet quickly paced back and forth in front of Klitz as he sat by his desk. His roommate lying in bed taking a nap or something. Klitz's eyes were intently focused, or at least trying to focus, on your face. ”Klitz?” he nods.

”Yeah exactly.”

”Okay. What then?”

”They need to check-in at their hotel.”

”Right. Of course.”

”Then we see what they want to do.”

”Cool. Sounds good.”

”Can you calm down for a second?”

”I don't know.” Your feet continuously paced, probably just seconds from burning a hole in his floor. Klitz stands up, putting his hands on your shoulders before bringing you into a hug. One of his hands familiarly stroking your back whilst the other just rests on your head letting your head nuzzle into the crook of his neck. ”Thank you.”

With you finally not pacing and in his arms, he leads the two of you over to his bed. Making you lay down. ”It's all going to be fine.”

”Yeah.”

Now you just need to believe that.

~~~

You should be freezing your ass off. Klitz seemingly was.

The two of you standing there waiting around one of the campus parking lots. Keeping an eye open for any car at all that might be them, Danielle and Matt. Klitz had mentioned something about either a blue beetle car or a BMW. But for now, you were just there waiting and keeping your eyes open for anything at all.

The temperature absolutely freezing, at least it seemed to be by Klitz's reaction. You should be freezing your ass off but instead, you found that the adrenaline, nervousness, and the anxiety-bouncing of your limbs heated you right up.

Klitz wasn't as 'lucky', he wasn't nervous about meeting his friends. He was more nervous about the moment that would come later when they'd be settled in and start telling you all kinds of things. He was slightly stressed but that was mostly over the fact that Danielle and Matt needed to get here so that all of you could get to the airport.

Either way, he was freezing, even though you were quite clearly trying to warm him up the way he usually tried to warm you up whilst out in the cold weather. Your hands rubbing up and down his arms to try and warm him through friction or gathering his hands into yours and quickly for a second taking off his gloves and blow a hot breath or two on them.

”I'm sorry.”

”What for?"”

”We didn't have to be out in the parking lot that early. I was just stressing you because I'm stressed.” By now it had gone enough time that it actually was reasonable for you to be out there waiting. But you definitely didn't have to be out there as early as you had been. ”I feel guilty.”

”Don't. You're just nervous, it's fine. They'll be here soon anyway and then instead, we'll be sweating in a cramped car.” Klitz reasoned, somehow still calming you down even when it feels slightly impossible. ”They said they were going to be here soon anyway.”

”Wait, that's them right?” It was a light blue beetle car and it was also the first car that had come through this parking lot for at least half an hour.

”Yeah, that should be them.” Klitz stretched his arm up to wave at the car.

Klitz had no idea how he was going to greet his best friends.

He'd been thinking about it ever since they said they'd come to visit. He hadn't told them that. But this whole thing of not seeing each other for several months was completely new for the group, the tripod. They had maybe spent a month away from each other before. But now they had spent several months from each other. Though of course, they had still been in contact through phone calls that were at least once a week.

Thankfully Matt took care of the small problem before Klitz felt that he had to worry about it too much.

"Klitzy!" Matt called the nickname loudly as he sprung up out of Danielle's car and leaped over, clapping his hand on Klitz's shoulder. Danielle stepped out of the car in a slightly more suave way. The two of you met in eye contact and gave each other a nod before both curiously looking with a smile on your lips at the interaction between the best friends.

"Matt!"

Oh Geez

It felt quite clear that both of them had no clue how they were going to greet each other after both so long apart and having just spoken on the phone just minutes before.

"You can hug each other you know that right?" Danielle teased with a laugh, meeting your eyes again quickly before looking back over at the boys just as they shrugged and gathered in a tight but quick hug.

"Cute."

"Agreed," Danielle responded, the two of you walking towards each other. "Danielle," She smiled as she introduced herself, you returning the favor, giving her a smile and your name.

"So, this is the girlfriend?" Matt asked walking up to you and Danielle with his arm around Klitz. Klitz chucking out a 'yup' with a satisfied smile. "Nice to finally meet the girl I've been hearing about constantly since probably day one of Yale."

"What?" Came out in disbelief, a big smile on your lips but your eyes clearly searching for what he meant. You had met Klitz pretty early on and then decided to just cling onto him but you hadn't ever really thought about it all from his perspective. "Really?" You asked Klitz, a disbelieving but hopeful look on your face that you hoped didn't show how much you hoped it was true.

"I mean he's been talking our ears off." Matt started again before adding, "In a good way."

"Yeah." Klitz chuckled shyly in response to your question, ducking his head a little but risking a glance at your face. "Don't call me cute again."

"Why not?" Matt questioned with his eyebrows furrowed, looking up at Klitz in confusion.

"She always calls me cute."

"Good. She should. Why wouldn't she?" Danielle laughed, already admiring the way the two of you interact.

"Right? Thank you. He doesn't get it." You respond whilst shaking your head before walking over to him, placing both of your hands on either side of his face, "Like look at this face, cute!"

Looking back at Danielle for a second before looking back at Klitz, repeating a thought you've probably had run through your mind a thousand times by now 'flustered Klitz is the best kind of Klitz'. Placed a kiss on his cheek before removing your hands and instead just taking one of his hands in yours.

"We - we should probably get going to the airport." Is the sentence Klitz decided to use, stumbling over the words, to try and get the focus off of him.

"Sounds good, dude." Matt agrees with a smug smirk on his face like Klitz had seen so many times before. Matt moved the duffel bag in the backseat to the trunk and you and Klitz climbed into the backseat. The drive from campus over to the international airport was an hour-long. You had dreaded it in the days leading up to this moment but once inside the car, settled next to Klitz and easily finding a conversation with both Danielle and Matt?

It barely felt like 20 minutes. The music that Danielle was in control of almost made it feel more like a summer road trip. Feeling as if the four of you were on the way to something else than just the airport to pick Eli up.

But then there you were and the nervousness was coming back. Klitz had described Eli as 'a lot', which isn't really calming.

Sure you had met Matt, met Danielle, but Eli was on another level. More intense, perhaps more difficult to impress, definitely more dramatic. You had heard the dramatic screams that he usually shouted from time to time through the phone when speaking to Matt and Klitz.

You had heard about his eccentric behaviour in general and heard more about what happened when Eli found out about Danielle. Heard about the 'fuck her for me, Matt!' shouts shouted in public in front of people who didn't even know the context, shouted in front of strangers. It sounded... intense to be sure of.

And yet... you were sort of excited. Both to meet Eli but also to see the trio together. To see the group that they had apparently nicknamed 'the tripod'.

The nickname had slipped from Klitz's mouth one evening as he was just talking about them. Their little group. About how they'd grown up together. Eli was just as excentric when he was 10, Matt perhaps a little less careful than he'd grow to be in his teenage years. Klitz didn't really describe himself but it was clear by his storytelling that he had been less shy as a kid. The confident side of him was even more prominent in the ten-year-old version of him.

He hadn't even realized when he had used the nickname for the group, his eyes widening in response when you'd repeated the name. He didn't seem to use it often, had told you that the nickname itself was pretty new. In fact the nickname sort of formed as a part of trying to convince Klitz to help Matt and Eli do the sex-ed video.

Either way you were finally going to see the tripod in... action?

The quick back and forth of conversations between best friends that you'd heard from afar would now be right in front of you. Within just minutes. Danielle pulled into the parking lot closest to the arrivals entrance. All four of you getting out of the car, Klitz instantly checking his watch.

"We should hurry."

"Yeah?" Matt questioned, trying to check in on the situation that Klitz suddenly seemed very aware of.

"His plane was supposed to land like a few minutes ago. He might already be there, just waiting for us." Klitz shrugged although the shrug didn't seem all that careless.

You let Matt and Danielle lead the way, practically hiding behind Klitz with his hand in yours. Eli was easy to find. Mostly because the scream of "DUDE!" was heard along with a loud stomping sort of run heading right towards you. "Where is she?"

Suddenly Matt and Danielle stepped to the side. Klitz made a gesture towards you with his free hand whilst the other squeezed yours before letting go of it to instead rest his arm around your shoulder again. That was all quite to be expected, what wasn't expected was the hug that felt more like a tackle.

”Nice to meet you. We have a lot to talk about.” Eli’s voice sounded just as dramatic business-man like as you’d heard him through Klitz’s phone. And before you knew it, Eli had pushed Klitz’s arm off of you, linked your arms and started walking towards the exit with you. But added one last thing before he let you respond, ”Eli.”

"You're... exactly how I've pictured you." You responded, your nervousness apparently gone for the moment that that came out of your mouth.

"I love that. So, how has our little Timmy been treating you?"

"Timmy?"

"Klitz!" Eli suddenly shrieked, letting go of your arm and turning around.

If Eli ever had to be in theatre or play a part in anything you suddenly had a sneaking suspicion he'd play an overdramatic relative. Treating you with love, but so much flair and drama in so far everything you've heard him say.

Matt had gone and picked up Eli's bag where he'd left it before he'd ran over towards you all. Klitz had been following you and Eli closely behind enough to hear every word so far.

His hands in his pockets in an attempt of trying to not look like he'd been listening in on every word in your conversation. His previous walking behind you and Eli was another attempt at that, trying to look as if he didn't care that much about walking along with you guys but still keeping up the pace of the mad-man pace Eli had demonstrated seconds before.

"Hmm?" He hummed in a questioning tone as if he didn't know what Eli was going to 'scold' him about in his next sentence.

"You haven't told her?"

"What?"

"Timothy Klitz! How dare you?"

"Timothy Klitz?" You questioned in confusion, looking to Klitz, was his name really Timothy or was Eli just fucking with you? The question of whether he's just fucking with you or not would probably come up a lot more during this visit...

"My first name." He finally admitted with a sigh, one of his hands quickly coming up to the back of his neck to try and give himself an excuse to duck his head. But before you could respond-

"Why didn't you tell her?"

"I was going to! I probably should've before this weekend though. It's always just a matter of minutes with you, dude."

"It's a cute name." You noted with a small smile, Klitz's head instantly turning towards you. His previous frown aimed towards Eli then turned into a small responding smile.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. But- you... you prefer Klitz?"

"I'm fine with either, but 'm almost more used to Klitz by now."

"Okay," You started before trying to put in a dramatic tone as you turned to face Eli, "so tell me all about our Timmy." linking your arms and starting to walk towards the exit again.

"I like you."

"Thank you."

"So, how has our little Timmy been treating you?"

"Very well, very well indeed."

"He isn't hurting you with his-" Knowing exactly what Eli was about to say and trying not to be stared at in public you interrupt him.

"No." Thankfully stepping out of the airport just seconds after.

"Good."

"Why did I know what you were going to ask?"

"You know me now. We've clicked." Eli said before looking over at Klitz who'd now started to walk beside you instead of behind the two of you. "Did you hear that Klitz? We've clicked!"

#klitz x reader #klitz the girl next door #klitz #klitz x you #Klitz stuff #IHaveNoClueDude #Major Conveniences #paul dano #Paul Dano Stuff #paul dano x you #paul dano x reader

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spencersawkward · 4 years

Note

if you feel comfortable with it, I’d love a prof Spence where reader is a student and goes to office hours to initiate ~smutty goodness~ but Spencer is reluctant at first bc his job but they flirt more and eventually sleep together

me n my professor kink when i saw this: 😏 anyway yes i am quite comfortable writing about this lol. i took some ✨creative liberties✨ with your request so i'm sorry if it isn't exactly what you wanted!

summary: reader is a student in Dr. Reid’s class, but she’s been something of a poor student-- office hours are the only solution.

relationship: Fem!Reader/Professor!Spencer

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, rough sex, super brief hair-pulling, creampie, dirty talk, spanking, age gap, degradation-- he gets pretty dominant oops.

word count: 4.5k

masterlist

popping in a piece of gum, I make my way to the back of the hall. there are a few people here already, but it's a little early. I'm never early. in fact, I'm usually late; my other class is on the other side of campus, and getting here involves a lot of embarrassing speed-walking.

but here I am, five minutes ahead of schedule and actually in a decent seat. as I flip open my textbook and pull my laptop out of my bag to prepare to take notes, my gaze slides down to the corner of the room, where Dr. Reid is standing up with a pile of papers. he walks over to the girl in the front row, handing her the stack and gesturing for her to pass it along.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. he's a total luddite. the first day, Dr. Reid spent about ten minutes rambling about the importance of reading from a physical book rather than online sources-- which, although I definitely agree with, means a lot more lugging around folders and organizing all the readings he gives out. if he wasn't so hot, I would have switched into another course.

and I know it's wrong to be daydreaming about my professor slamming me into a wall while he discusses the intricacies of quantum theory. the complete cliché of it is embarrassing. but still, I just can't stop thinking about him: how his fingers would feel around my throat, the smooth wooden surface of his desk against my cheek as he bends me over and pulls my panties to the side--

"glad to see you've decided to join us, today, Ms. Y/L/N." Dr. Reid's voice startles me out of my thoughts. he's standing towards the front of the room while students file in. his hands are resting in his pockets with his eyebrows pleasantly raised.

"glad to see you've noticed." I retort, too irritated with his comment to care about being polite.

a couple people look at me. even though I'm generally not on time, he tends to just glance my way when I walk in and leaves it at that. I know he doesn't like it, although I personally don't care. I hate this course.

he seems visibly surprised by my response but doesn't reply, gaze lingering on mine before he turns to speak to a student trying to get his attention. I bite back a smile. fucking asshole.

as usual, Dr. Reid writes in his thin, messy lettering on the board while wandering around the front of the room. he's quite fidgety, even though his voice doesn't betray any sort of nervousness. it's like he's naturally overactive.

every word out of his mouth is enunciated, sometimes spoken faster when he gets particularly impassioned by the subject. he's interesting to look at, too. messy curls and a nice suit, stubble that straddles the line between refinement and ruggedness.

I type quickly, but it isn't fast enough and the strange illustrations he does on the board only complicate things. I try to write them down in my notebook, but my handwriting is jagged; sometimes it's hard to read. when a student raises her hand for a clarification, I take the opportunity to catch up.

my head jerks up as soon as I'm finished and he's looking at me while he speaks. even from so many feet away, the intensity strikes me. he's gesticulating and crossing the room. I hold eye contact.

I wonder if he dates often; a couple of the girls in my row always stare at him throughout the lectures. he seems to be completely unaware of the effect he has on people. sometimes I'll see him in the hallway and he has his nose buried in a book, or a to-go cup of coffee, or both. either way, there seems to be no more room in that head of his for romance.

which, naturally, makes me curious about how he looks when he's on the edge of orgasm. if that composure is replaced with a contorted pleasure. I want to break him.

it's like he can read my thoughts, because Dr. Reid averts his gaze. my stomach twists with a strange anticipation. he avoids looking my way for the rest of the time.

towards the end of class, I start to pack my things to go. I have three papers to write, and my utter lack of interest in this is making me eager to leave. I shove my textbook into my bag the second my professor starts to make closing remarks.

"don't forget that we have a midterm in two weeks!" he says in a slightly louder voice as people start to move around. "if you have any questions, my office hours are posted on the bulletin board outside."

at this, my eyebrows rise. I forgot about the midterm. I have a study calendar set up for all my subjects, but I've purposefully been putting this one off. I'm not super into math. and it doesn't help that most of my time is spent not listening. when I am, it doesn't make sense.

as I stand up and gather my stuff, I hear someone clearing their throat a couple feet away. my head turns to see Dr. Reid leaning against his desk.

"Ms. Y/L/N, can I see you for a second?"

my heart stutters in my chest. is this about my attitude? he's never asked to see me outside of lessons before.

I frown, making my way to him with a deliberate pace. the tension in the room builds as I watch the last of his students shuffle out of the room. my head turns from the door to him; my breath catches a little in my throat at the set of his jaw. part of me hopes I get yelled at.

"I'm concerned about your participation in this class." he says. his voice isn't cruel, but it is brutally honest— which is worse. participation? I feel my fist clench at my side. my professors don't usually say anything if you aren't doing things up to their expectations; if you aren't, then they give you a bad grade. simple as that.

"is this about me being late?" I ask. he lets out a sigh before answering. he sounds disappointed.

"you're constantly tardy, and when you hand in your homework, you barely seem to have put in the effort. it's messy."

"messy?" I start to get annoyed. I'm only doing this so that I can get my degree. it's a fucking requirement. even though I'm not the biggest fan of mathematics, I still do my best and hand in my assignments on time. plus, the latest I arrive is five minutes-- it's not like I'm stumbling in halfway through the lesson.

"you've never come to office hours to ask for help or explained your lateness, which I, as your professor, would have appreciated." he scolds. honestly, I don't know what to say. my eyes narrow.

"I have my studio class on the other side of campus." I explain. "I should have emailed about that and I'm sorry, but I'm also not being lax about my work."

he goes around to the other side of his desk and glances up at me while he organizes some loose documents to pack away. he looks way too good when he's exasperated: his hands tighten around the papers, his eyebrows come together in this cute way. his tie is a little crooked, too.

"are you struggling with the content?"

"sometimes, yeah. but I can handle reaching out for help if I need it." I reply. he's pissing me off with these questions. I can see from the expression on his face that he's surprised by my reaction.

"really?" he slides some books into his messenger bag. that was definitely sarcastic; I know it was. "because it doesn't really seem like you have."

"I like to find help on my own." I shoulder my bag and cross my arms over my chest. there's no way he's gonna talk to me like that and expect me to not respond in kind.

"I'm reserving a slot on Wednesday evening for you," he looks up and holds my gaze. hazel irises that dare me to challenge him further. "I want you in office hours so that we can figure out how you're gonna catch up before the midterm."

"fine." I turn on my heel and leave. I know I'm not supposed to talk to my professor like that, or even to behave with such apprehension. but something about him makes me angry in the kind of way that settles in my stomach. I hate that he's right. I'm not going to do well on that damn test if I don't get some help.

but that doesn't mean I can't have some fun with it.

when I rush into his office on Wednesday evening, the sun is just starting to set through his window. there's a pinkish glow that smooths over Dr. Reid's desk as he glances up at me. I had to run to get here.

"you're late." he nods to the clock on the wall. I roll my eyes.

"only one minute, though. I had another class."

he sighs and folds his hands on his desk. "how are you doing today, Ms. Y/L/N?" a strangely polite question for the look on his face. he's frustrated with me.

"I'm quite well, Dr. Reid." I smile brightly, slightly excited by the anger on his face, and sit at the chair in front of his desk.

"I didn't know you were interested in art." he says simply. I'm confused for a moment before I remember that I told him that the course before his is a studio lesson.

"I didn't know you cared."

"do you make a habit of that?" he quirks an eyebrow.

"of what?" my expression is saccharine.

"being rude to people who control your grades."

"unless you're considering being unethical in your practices and allowing your personal opinion of me to influence my grade, then no." I counter. he's silent for a moment, taking in my words like they've left a mark on him.

"well, you'd most likely fail if I asked you to leave my office hours right now. whose fault would that be?" he fidgets with his hands and leans forward just a bit, his voice dropping to a lower tone. I bite back a smile.

"you wouldn't."

"and why is that?" he baits.

"because you're not a shitty professor, Dr. Reid," I lean back in my chair and cross my legs. "as angry as you are, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you kicked me— a struggling student— out of here for giving you a little attitude."

"a little attitude?" he scoffs. "you've spent the whole semester completely ambivalent."

"not completely." I shrug.

"Y/N, you draw all over your tests and leave at least one problem half-finished every time. you obviously aren't learning." he chuckles mirthlessly. I concede this point; I like to doodle when I'm bored. and there's absolutely nothing more boring to me than numbers.

"okay," I sit up and rest my elbows on the edge of his desk, staring at him. "then teach me."

Dr. Reid holds my gaze for a long moment. we're suspended, it seems, as his lips part and he finds himself speechless. the way I said the words obviously has another layer to it-- he just has to decide whether or not to take the bait.

"what are you struggling with?" he clears his throat and sits up a bit straighter in his seat. that answers my question, I guess. I poke my tongue between my teeth gently, but then pull out my notebook and flip it to a page with some problems outlined on it.

"these." I toss the thing onto his side and he begins to run through the assignment. I watch him pick up a pen and start to explain the steps, slipping into his usual educational tone. his shoulders relax a little as he writes.

I can't see right from the angle I'm at, so I stand and come around onto his side. I hear him pause his speaking for a moment at my proximity, but he doesn't move away.

"does that make sense?" he asks me once he's finished running through the first problem. he basically did all the work. the professor's head turns to gauge my reaction to the explanation, but his eye line is right at the hem of my skirt-- which is already pretty short. for all his attempts to be subtle, he gulps and looks up at me.

"mostly." I brush a piece of hair behind my ear and pretend to scratch at a spot on my upper thigh, dragging the edge of my skirt with it until he can see the smooth skin beneath, practically begging for his touch. "can I ask you a question?"

"sure." he keeps his eyes almost too focused on mine. I try to hide the smile tugging at my lips. now or never, I guess.

"what's your policy on professor/student relationships?"

"my-- my what?" this time, he's audibly scattered when he turns to me. his eyes are wide, dark. even he can't hide his feelings.

"you know," I run my fingertips over the tweed shoulder of his jacket. I can sense the tension beneath his clothes. "like, your policy on fucking a student."

"I--" his cheeks turn pink. he's flustered, albeit not rejecting my touch. "I've never had to think about it before."

"hmm," I look off to the side as if considering this point. his chair is fully turned to face me now, and I'm standing in front of him, almost completely his for the taking. all he has to do is close the gap. "well, what are you thinking about it right now?"

"it's wrong." he stumbles over the words.

"why?"

"well, I mean, you're a student--"

"for a semester that's almost over." I cut him off. he opens and closes his mouth. I take a deep breath, toying with the hem of my skirt. "I know you've been looking at me during class."

"w-what?"

"you're pretty good at hiding it, but you call on me a lot and you get all messed up when I hold eye contact too long during lectures." I say.

he looks down and back up apologetically. he's just sitting there, lap wide open. so I do what any sane girl in my position would do: I climb into it, straddling him and resting my arms around his neck. he sucks in a breath.

"you pretend I'm such a pain," I lean down by his ear, my core drawing over his pants. he tenses as I speak. "but you like that I'm your little problem."

"Y/N..." he trails off, but his hips are bucking up into mine.

"see?" I look between our bodies at his movements, then at him. I smirk as I look into those lust-darkened eyes. after a moment of him not speaking, I straighten. "look, I'll leave you alone if it really bothers you--"

as I start to get off his lap, he grabs me and pulls me back down. the force hits my center at just the right angle and I let out a slight mewl. he hears the sound and before I can register the pleasure, he grabs my face and yanks me closer to kiss him.

god, he feels so good. I rock my hips against his while our lips pass over each other hungrily. so much tension built up over the past few months, so many thoughts I've had of him, now coming to fruition. it's amazing.

"not so 'wrong' now, is it?" I chuckle against his mouth.

"shut up." he orders. one moment of broken contact to slide my top over my head and throw it on the floor.

I sigh as he starts to kiss across my jaw and down my throat. "I like when you talk like that, Dr. Reid."

one hand grips my hips tighter and he releases a groan against my skin.

"is that why you're such a fucking brat in my class?" he bites my collarbone and I moan. "because you want me to put you in your place?"

"mhmm." I hum. his fingertips move under my skirt, sliding up my thighs and toying with the waistband of my panties. he teases me by grazing my slit over the fabric, inhaling sharply at the wet patch.

"sitting in the back of my room, fucking dripping..." he mumbles to himself as he starts to rub me.

"touch me." I breathe out, trying to gain the friction that I need.

"not if you're gonna be a brat." he removes his hand and I let out a frustrated noise as I try to find the pressure I need elsewhere by grinding down on him. he grunts at the way I pant into his mouth, trying to kiss him with every chance I get. his lips are so smooth and sweet against mine. there's something affectionate about it even in its ferocity.

"I'll be good." I practically beg.

"that's what I thought." he slides his tongue over his bottom lip as he watches me whimper on top of him.

"come on, Spencer..." I use the name for the first time and he grabs my face in his hand, squeezing my cheeks.

"not my name, sweetheart." he stares into my eyes expectantly and I smirk.

"you're fucked up, doctor."

"so are you."

after he says that, he lifts me off his lap and stands up, pushing between my shoulder blades until my face is pressed onto the desk. I let out a needy whine, wiggle my ass back in hopes of finding his crotch, but he's not willing to give me that, yet.

instead, he gently touches my skirt, flipping it up so that he can see my ass. immediately, he starts to knead it. my palms are pressed flat against the desk with anticipation, silently thankful that my panties are still on. I think I'd be dripping down my thighs if they weren't.

"are you gonna be more respectful?" his voice is low, one hand tracing over my back. I shake.

"mhmm."

"I won't spank you if you don't use your words, sweetheart."

"yes." I choke out, no longer wanting to give any sort of resistance. I had no idea there was this side of him, and I love it.

he loves it too, apparently, because his hand comes down sharply on my ass. I yelp at the contact and he runs his fingers over the point of impact, rubbing the flesh gently.

"too hard, baby?" he checks.

"harder." I beg. I can't see his face, but I can sense his smile as if it's my own. his palm hits me again, and I gasp.

"you like being punished?"

"yes." strangled and desperate.

he slips his finger beneath the fabric of my panties, collecting my essence and letting out a quiet moan when he feels me. I push my hips against his fingers, partly expecting him to remove all the pressure, but he doesn't bother waiting.

he slips his index inside and I gasp. starts to push in and out, his silence proving his arousal. I can practically feel his eyes on me. the pace increases a bit and he slides in his middle finger. I buck against the desk.

"oh fuck!" I cry out as he starts to go faster. he curls them against my walls and I arch my back.

"two fingers and you're already breaking?" Spencer chuckles as he moves inside me. he keeps one hand on my ass while he does it, starting to finger me at a ridiculous speed while I pant and moan and cry.

"I--" I gulp down air. "I need you in it."

he bends down by my ear, never breaking his rhythm. my legs are shaking from the force. "you need my cock?"

"yes," I feel myself closing in around him. "god, yes."

"you're lucky I wanna fuck you so bad." he mutters. I grin as I hear the clink of his belt coming undone, the sliding through the belt loops, the sound of him stripping down to nothing. I can feel my excitement on the inside of my thighs, spread around by his reckless fingers as he removes my panties and skirt.

he grinds himself against my pussy, coating himself in me, while he releases low, longing moans. I suck in a breath when the head pushes in, every inch pushing me open a little more. I don't have the ability to form words, so I bite my lip and grip onto the edge of the desk until my knuckles turn white.

his breath stops for a moment before he groans.

"so ready for me."

he's not even all the way in, and he has to pause to let me adjust. when he taps the inside of my thigh for me to part them more, I do it quickly and beg him to fill me up. I can barely take the pressure between my hips, but it burns in an inviting way.

"keep going." I direct him. he runs his hands over the curve of my waist and starts to thrust into me at a rate that leaves me panting. it's not too fast or slow, just impatient and needy. every sound that spills from his lips turns me on more.

"where'd the attitude go, huh?" he digs his hips into mine. his cock hits my cervix and I squeak against the wood, but he holds my back down. I don't even try to argue with him, too overcome with the pleasure that's coursing through my limbs. he starts to build up his speed. "don't have much to say when you're getting fucked?"

"Dr. Reid--" I moan.

he plows into me so hard, the desk shifts on the floor and he grabs my ass with both hands.

"take it, baby. fucking take it."

I get up on my elbows to look behind me, just to glimpse how he looks as he gets closer. his curls have fallen more in his face, and his shirt is gone. I want to touch him desperately, to feel the lovely skin of his torso and arms and everything else, but he keeps me down for the most part. all I get is the sight of his mouth open and his hips moving quickly against mine.

"look at me, there you go." he grabs my face and holds me there, our eyes locked. mine are welling at the sheer overwhelming pleasure inside, but his are dark and intense. they search mine for something I can only hope to offer.

"that feels so good, Dr. Reid." I pant. he bites his lip as he watches my mouth hanging open in lecherous shock.

"I bet it does," he explores my body. "coming in here, hoping I fuck you like you deserve. you're lucky I'm going easy on you."

"thank you." I whine.

"you might need some extra lessons, yeah?" he grunts out, moving into me with a bruising force.

"yes, please." I whisper. my voice is practically gone at this point, my mind entirely focused on the knot building in my stomach.

"what was that, baby?" he pulls my hair gently.

"yes— fuck— yes, please, Dr. Reid."

"what a beautiful girl." he smirks. I whimper when he runs his fingernails down my ribcage. I can feel it coming from the way he starts to move tumultuously, every thrust pushing harder and seeking more release. it's fervent, how he takes me and grips my hips like the force itself will push him over the edge.

"I'm so close..." I breathe out as I try for as much friction as I can.

"show me," he drops down so his stomach is flush to my back. "show me how you cum, Y/N."

the way he says my name-- husky and warm and full of lust-- causes me to snap. I cry out as he reaches around to clamp a hand around my mouth, climaxing and pulsing around his dick as I drop down against the surface again. I want him to finish inside, so I do my best to keep him here. and his thrusts are getting more staccato as he chases the sensation my walls create.

"can I fill you, angel?" he asks. he's breathing right by my ear, and the feeling is sending shivers down my spine. I love how his weight feels.

"yes." I moan and he slides his fingers into my mouth. I suck on them while he orgasms, jerking into my pussy and letting out unholy sounds of ecstasy. he says unintelligible things in the throes of his orgasm. pounds into me until I'm sure I won't be able to walk tomorrow.

"jesus christ, Y/N." he slows to a stop. when he pulls his cock out of me, the absence makes me whine. I miss his body already.

"oh my god." I clench my hands into fists as I try to catch my breath. I'm still bent over the desk as though I've been completely sapped of all my energy. I suppose I have. he doesn't touch me for a moment in the spirit of letting me recover from the small shudders still running over my skin.

"that was great." he says after we've both had time to fill our lungs. I push myself onto my elbows again.

"correct." I grin and straighten up more until I'm standing. he stares at me, at the cum now dripping down my legs, entranced.

"let me get you something to clean up." he snaps out of it a little. I can't stop looking at him, either, in love with the way he moves and the way he breathes after exerting himself on my body.

"come here." I bite my lip. for some reason, despite what we just did, this is scarier than everything else. he steps closer and I reach up, kiss him softly. part of me worries that he'll pull away and be terrified. maybe that he'll tell me that I've read too much into this.

he's much gentler than before. our first kiss was full of need and primal desire, but this is more affectionate. I remove myself from his embrace.

"okay, you can go now." I giggle. his fingertips linger on my waist and he smiles. I push his shoulder. "I literally have your cum all over me-- go."

"fine." he starts to put his clothes on.

"does this mean I get an A?" I joke. Spencer shakes his head.

"nice try. when we're done cleaning you up, we're gonna sit down and figure this out."

I let out a whine, and he kisses my cheek before looking me in the eyes. "it'll be fun. I promise."

"math is not fun."

"I can't believe I like a girl who doesn't enjoy such a beautiful subject." he rolls his eyes and I giggle. he's perfect.

#spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #dr. reid #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #professor reid

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