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#and I couldn’t start my lecture again until I’d written it down
ladyodaskonpeito · 8 months
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Day 5: Alternate Universe
Fandom: Free!
Pairing: Yamazaki Sousuke x Tachibana Makoto
Wordcount: 853
Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4
It was a spectacular first birthday at TUH. Sousuke’s new colleagues were amazing people and he couldn’t imagine himself being surrounded by a more uplifting bunch. Or a more chaotic one.
The adrenaline surge in his blood was still going on when he parked his car at his designated spot that evening, all ready to manage an emergency. He frantically rounded the corner in search of Makoto, only to be caught off guard by confetti poppers going off and a loud cheer of Happy Birthday from his wonderful but mischievous teammates.
His heart rate didn’t calm down until he was called in for his shift at seven, and he couldn’t help but be bummed out by missing Makoto who he somehow thought would be showing up at some point. Sousuke was actually starting to get used to his heartbeat quickening at the thought of him, even anticipating the weird symptom at times which became a regular occurrence since the day he met Makoto again.
It was from this point on, though, that he realised it had become a true concern. He had looked forward to coming across Makoto at work the next day, even when he knew what it’d do to his chest. Makoto was in on the surprise the previous evening, after all, so the thrilling thought of seeing him on the job and maybe receiving a happy birthday from him was… starting to worry Sousuke.
So he resorted to his best friend for advice. Rin came in the next day at seven in the morning with zero signs of a hangover from the previous night. Sousuke could only hope the eight-hour rule of ceasing all alcohol before a shift would work just as well for him.
“Rin, have you ever experienced palpitations?”
Rin looked taken aback, cocking an eyebrow at Sousuke. “Yeah, sure. Why?”
“What was your diagnosis?”
“Huh?” Confusion was written all over his face.
Sousuke straightened up. “I’ve been having occasional episodes for a while now and I can’t for the life of me figure out what is it. Do you think I should head over to cardiology for a check-up?”
“Slow down, where’s the rest of your history?” Rin didn’t look too worried, flipping through his hepatology textbook to catch up on what he failed to study the previous night.
“The only concomitant symptom is clammy hands. The triggering factor appears to be—as silly as this sounds—a person.”
Now he had Rin’s full attention. “And do I know this person?”
“You do. It happens to be the nursing manager.”
“Mako-” he almost exclaimed before lowering his volume, quickly overcoming his initial shock, “Makoto?”
Sousuke nodded. “It really is puzzling, isn’t it.”
“It is not,” Rin gulped. “I should have seen it coming, honestly.”
“Do you have a diagnosis already?”
Rin gave him a side-eye, unamused. “Of course I do. I even know the gold standard treatment!”
“What is it? I can’t believe you got it so soon. I revisited all my cardiology lecture notes and still didn’t have a clue.”
“That’s a shame because it’s not cardio in nature.” Rin snapped his textbook shut, scrutinising Sousuke in a way that made him feel self-conscious about not knowing the answer. “Your condition is infatuation, Sousuke. You’re crushing hard!”
Sousuke was speechless for a moment, his mouth hanging open at the conclusion Rin arrived at.
“And I thought I knew you well enough to know your sexuality. Damn it, now it’s Haru’s turn to judge me for being a bad best friend,” said Rin. “Makoto is just the type you’d be into—gentle and caring and all that.”
“So… your idea of a treatment plan would be?”
“To talk to him, idiot. He actually texted me just yesterday to ask about you, I’d say you’ve got a good chance.”
The thought of Makoto asking about him made Sousuke’s mouth go dry. “W-what did you talk to him about?”
“Look at you getting all nervous about it,” Rin guffawed. “Relax, he was wondering if you enjoyed the party we threw, is all.”
“Is all?” Sousuke couldn’t hide the disappointment in his tone.
“Did you expect it to be a conversation where he revealed his secret crush on you?”
“Shut up.”
“I would but I have to apologise first. I told him you’re heterosexual.” Rin shrugged and made a gesture that said ‘You can’t blame me’. “It came up when he asked about Kisumi, who had been trying to bring the two of us together behind our backs. My boyfriend was not thrilled at all when he learned that, apparently. So I told him what I’ve always said to Haru: you’re straight.”
“I-” Sousuke would reprimand Rin for that, except that he had only dated girls in the past and never opened up to anyone about his bisexuality.
Sousuke, having the hots for Makoto? Was that what all these years of dwelling on the past had amounted to?
Sousuke couldn’t say. Not yet, at least.
Not until he came clean to Makoto about the fact that he remembered meeting him as a PT patient seven years ago. And that he was not heterosexual.
To be continued on Day 6
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aereres · 2 years
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Reputation - Toto Wolff
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Summary: It was just a fantasy, something you couldn't hold yourself back from imagining. Professor Wolff - the most important lecturer in your University, the man of the hour - was supposedly off-limits, until a simple question broke all the boundaries, all the rules.
A/N: Pls don't kill me, I'm just horny for Professor!Toto
Word Count: 1,8k
Warnings: SMUT, swearing, obviously cheating
You were screwed.
More than screwed, actually. With your dampened panties sticking to your core and the hard ridges of your nipples poking against your bra cups, you couldn’t listen. You couldn’t pay attention to the one course you needed the most, the one course that was going to shape you as the engineer you wanted to be.
And it was because of the professor.
Toto Wolff was standing proudly in front of the class with his usual charming smile painting his lips. He was doing his job as easily as he always did, putting his entire soul in the only class he was teaching as if he was explaining to his audience how to end global warming, joy evident in his voice as he looked over his students.
His eyes scanned over the crowd as he spoke his last sentence, finally meeting yours just as his final word came out. Your body buzzed for many reasons: one, his eyes had held yours for more than five seconds; two, the smile he had given you right after finishing the lesson had been enough to send your heart on fire; and three, you finally had a reason to talk to him.
Your latest assignment had been handed back to you before the lecture had started, the red mark written on the top right of the paper signaling you had made just one small error. You weren’t dumb - you didn’t need an explanation for the bullshit you had written -, but were you going to lie to yourself and say you hadn’t messed up on purpose?
“I’ll see you next week,” you heard Professor Wolff say, his voice sending shivers down your spine.
“Professor, I had a question about the paper,” you said, your words not even a bit shaky as your peers walked past you, exiting the door and bringing along with them some light chatter.
“Of course,” Toto smiled your way, waiting for the room to empty before letting his attention focus on you, and you only. You reached his side near his desk, obediently handing him the piece of paper and giving him a minute to skim through it. “Right, this one part had me a little confused,”
His fingers were pointing towards the only red mark on the white sheet, your eyes instead focusing on his veiny hand. You nodded your head, looking up at him through your lashes with innocence as he let the tip of his finger ghost the paper.
“See, Miss Y/L/N, this point makes no sense,” he explained patiently, his stern voice - and his accent - making you clench your legs as you nodded along. “And I wasn’t expecting this kind of error from you, you being my smartest student,”
Your cheeks heated up at his comment, a small smile forming on your lips as he leaned closer to you. “You see, I would have expected someone like that one kid that sleeps during class, to make an error like that. Not you,” he paused. “So, I decided to keep an eye on you during my lectures to see just why you could have made a mistake like that,”
Your heart started beating out of your chest as you tried to scramble for any kind of lie that would cover your mistake, that wouldn’t let the image of you in his mind change. “I’ve just been having a hard t-”
“And I couldn’t help but notice the way your cheeks would blush whenever I’d talk to you, or even how you would bring me coffee sometimes,” he kept going, interrupting you. “But what I truly noticed is different,”
There was a beat before he started again, chills running down your spine as his voice deepened, “I noticed how often you look at my wedding band, and how often your thighs clench whenever I play with it,”
His confessions put your world to a halt. Your hands grew cold and shaky at the mention of all the things you had been hoping - and praying - he wouldn’t notice. Your heart stopped beating as you looked up at his eyes, so dark and hungry you barely could even recognize him.
“Such a sweet, smart girl,” he whispered, his calloused fingers trapping your chin in his hold. “Lusting over her professor,”
“Sir-”
His lips pressed over yours, the hungry kiss taking your breath away as he backed you towards his desk. Your arms wrapped around his neck, balancing between his body and the wood as his tongue dipped inside your mouth, his movements fast.
His fingers made a quick work of the buttons of your blouse, suddenly snapping you back to reality and making you realize: what you were doing was wrong. So wrong. He was your professor, and sleeping with a professor is nowhere close to being ethically correct, if you remembered correctly. And fuck, he was a husband, a father. The wedding band leaving a cold trail right above your breasts was the constant reminder of just how wrong the entire situation was.
It was a stupid dream of yours to have just a taste of the man you saw everyday on campus, something you’d think about while relieving the stress he had caused. Your intentions were just to spend a little more time with him, the time most of his students probably didn’t even think about. But it was becoming reality, and could you stop it from becoming a pricey mistake?
“Professor-” you breathed, relishing in the warmth his kisses on your neck were bringing to your core. “Professor, this is wrong,”
He didn’t stop his administrations on your body, one of his palms sliding under your skirt to find the dampened lace of your panties. “You- you have a family,” you stuttered when his thumb pressed on your clit, biting back a moan.
“As long as this pussy drips for me, and me only, nobody will know,” was all he answered, his voice holding the kind of commanding darkness that sent pleasure to your core. His words held a warning you were able to catch even in your hazy state: as long as you were his, not a word was going to slip from his mouth; as long as you were his, your reputation remained intact.
He hauled you on top of his desk, parting your legs harshly before letting his fingers wander back to their spot. They rubbed your slit, not a single trace of tenderness in their actions as he teased your opening.
He held the tips of his middle and ring finger just over your entrance, his other hand gripping your chin again to make your eyes meet. You held his gaze as he let his fingers enter you, your mouth opening into a silent O as they filled you completely. You felt the coldness of his ring just on your lower lips, making everything even dirtier.
“Look at you, so desperate for your professor,”
Your head lulled back, pleasure raking through your body as he retrieved his fingers just to push them back again. The large room filled with your breathy moans and the sounds of your wet heat as Toto rocked your word.
Behind his thick glasses, his eyes never left yours, their hunger making shivers run up your spine. His fingers hooked, finding that one place that made you see stars, the place only you could find.
A smug smirk coated his lips when a loud moan left your lips, his fingers quickening their pace as he let his hand rail into you with abandonment. If someone had told you you’d be sitting on Toto Wolff’s desk with his fingers deep in your cunt a few months ago, you would have never believed them.
But you were there, on the brink of an earth-shattering orgasm that you certainly weren’t going to ever forget, with his eyes focused on the way your pussy squeezed his fingers. His phone - which was sitting just a few inches away from you - vibrated on the desk, pushing his gaze away from you. His orbs scanned the incoming text, jaw clenching before his movements quickened, thumb circling your swollen and neglected clit.
“Shit-” you heard him swear for the first time, the curse sending a string of pleasure through your body. “Professor Wellis is coming down here,”
“Sir-” you breathed out, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you whispered your next words. “I’m going to cum,”
“Beg for it,”
“Please-” you sobbed, voice strained. “Please, sir. Let me cum,”
A dark grin appeared on his features at your pleas, tongue peaking out to wet his lips before speaking. “Cum for me, sweetheart,”
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced made your body shake, your hands gripping the sides of Toto’s desk as your mind blocked all the noise surrounding you. There was a moment where you slowly drew back to reality, your ears functioning again just in time to let you hear your professor speak in his usual stern tone. “Good girl,”
Your eyes were hazy as you sat straight on the wood, pushing your panties back in place as you remembered just where you were. Your eyes met with Professor Wolff’s, dipping down to look at the barely covered erection straining his pants. And the wet stains on his lap. Oh my God.
“Did I-?”
“You did,” his charming smirk was back on his lips, sending your mind in a frenzy as you hopped down the desk. Silently, you made your way towards your bag, picking it up just as you wondered in what kind of fucked up wet dream you had landed in.
A familiar palm settled on your covered pelvis, pushing you back into Toto’s erection. He leaned in to suck a mark on your neck as his fingers buttoned up your shirt for you. “Can’t have you walking around like that,” he whispered huskily in your ear. “Don’t want people to find out, do we?”
You shook your head submissively, turning around to face him just as a knock sounded on the door. Toto spent another moment asserting his dominance with just the power of his eye contact before leading you out the door, his voice calm, almost as if one of his students hadn’t just squirted all over his expensive slacks five minutes prior.
“I hope this answered your questions, Miss Y/L/N,” he said, holding the door open for you as he smiled Professor Wellis’ way. You plastered on a fake smile to cover up the lust in your eyes, thanking him gingerly before strutting away. “Office hours start at 8 p.m. and end at 10 p.m., if you need more help!”
You smiled innocently at what he actually meant with his last sentence, slightly snickering when Professor Wellis pointed out the wet patches on Toto’s pants. You were able to hear your professor’s response even from a few feet away, cheeks turning bright red. “Oh, just spilled some water during lunch break,”
You turned around just before Toto could close the door behind himself and the other man, your eyes meeting. The quick wink he sent your way was enough to send sparks to your core, but you turned around to leave the building.
God. You were in trouble.
Taglist: @landowishes @crescentmooninspring @miahelen @lillict @berzisworld @thirstyybitch
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kythed · 3 years
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“almost funny”
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synopsis: suna rintarou thinks you’re out of his league, and you think he’s out of yours.
tagged: general dumbassery, fwb-to-lovers, some profanity, sexual references but nothing explicit.
commitment level: 5.6k words.
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It’s almost funny, really. It’s funny how what started out as a purely physical transaction has now transformed into a one way ticket to Simpville with the name Suna Rintarou stamped on it in big red letters. Suna runs a hand through his hair in frustration as he stares down at your sleeping form, curled up in his SF Giants tee that fits you like an oversized nightgown. He loves how you look there, wearing his clothes, bed head resting on his pillows. It’s almost embarrassing how much he loves it. How much he might love you. 
He doesn’t really remember when he started seeing you as more than a good fuck. Maybe it was that time you told him he looked pretty with your lipgloss smeared across his mouth. 
“That’s a nice shade on you,” you’d laughed as he wiped his lips on the back of his hand. “You should wear it more often.” 
Then, before he could respond, you’d yanked him back in by the collar, licking into his mouth, deep and dirty. He shivers now even just thinking about it, recalling the taste of that lipgloss. Strawberry lemonade, the sort that comes in little bottles at the dollar store. However “pretty” he might’ve looked in that moment, he’s sure you looked a hundred times better. You always do, and you don’t even have to try. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, even in your worst moments. 
Or maybe it was the time you remembered his birthday when no one else did. January 25th; all his friends had taken off on their ski trips or tropical vacations, but you showed up to his apartment toting a cupcake and a single candle, belting a loud, out of tune rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ until he shut you up with an impulsive kiss on the lips. You’d been surprised, but not so surprised you couldn’t kiss him back. Suna’s pretty sure most friends-with-benefits don’t do that sort of thing. They don’t sit across from each other at the kitchen table, splitting a vanilla cupcake and laughing over matching frosting mustaches. They don’t hug each other goodbye after two hours of scrolling through YouTube and nothing else, content to linger in that air of tentative familiarity and pseudo-friendship. 
Whatever the reason, whenever it happened, all Suna knows now is you’re more than just a fuck buddy. He doesn’t even want to associate the term with you — it feels disrespectful. He wishes he could just stop pretending. Stop pretending he doesn’t want you to be his. 
“Hey.” 
Suna grins at your low, throaty morning voice. It’s cute. 
“Hey,” he responds, reaching forward to flick your shoulder. “You slept in.” 
“Did I?” You blink the sleep from your eyes and squint at Suna’s bedside clock. 9:06. “Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.” 
You fly out of bed, wiggling into your jeans and tossing your hair into a careless ponytail before frantically scanning the room. “Have you seen my sweater anywhere?”
Suna exhales through his nose before getting up and walking over to his closet. “I hung it up last night so it wouldn’t be wrinkled.”
You freeze in your tracks, slowly turning with a teasing grin plastered on your face. “Oh? How considerate of you.”
Suna shrugs, avoiding your gaze. He feels a flush rise to cheeks and desperately hopes it doesn’t show. “Just being polite.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had a little crush on me,” you crow before taking the sweater from the hanger and slipping it over your head. 
“You wish,” he snorts, but all he can think is you’re absolutely right. 
You ignore him and begin shoveling all your things into your purse: a compact mirror, lipstick, house keys. You glance at the clock again. “I’m gonna be so late to this lecture. Damn. Maybe I can text Aiko and ask her to record the first part for me.”
Suna raises an eyebrow. He remembers your friend Aiko from a party last year, before you and he began your… arrangement. She’s outgoing, friendly, and probably the flakiest person he’s ever met. “She’s not gonna do that. Just let me drive.”
“No, it’s fine,” you automatically brush him off, heading into the bathroom to splash your face with lukewarm water. “You probably have your own shit to take care of.”
Yeah, you, he thinks, but instead he says, “Not really. Plus, you’ll probably miss the whole thing if you try to bike to campus. Let me take you in the car. I’ll strap the bike onto the back.” 
You give him a look. “Are you sure, Rin?”
“It’s really not a big deal,” he says, throwing on a shirt. “Outside in five, and I’ll have you there by 9:30, easy.” 
After a few more weak protestations, you finally agree, and as he drives you to your university, he lets himself pretend you’re his girlfriend sitting there in the passenger seat. He turns on your favorite artist’s Spotify mix on the aux and smiles to himself when you hum along, watching the city fly past out the window. What he wouldn’t give for that reality, one where he can love you without all these restrictions, these tricky boundaries between friends and lovers. When you jump out of the car, calling a cheeky “I’ll text you!” over your shoulder, he pretends it’s an affectionate “I’ll see you for dinner tonight!” instead. He pretends that instead of rushing to get away from him and into the lecture hall, you kiss him on the forehead and squeeze his shoulder, reluctant to leave.
“Fuck me,” Suna says angrily before slamming his palm into the horn, scaring a few freshman walking to class. “And fuck you too!” 
He’s not sure who “you” is. Maybe the universe. 
No, Suna Rintarou doesn’t know why or how it happened, but he’s in too deep now. And he’s pretty damn sure you’ll never feel the same way. 
+
You slide into your seat beside Aiko just as the guest lecturer pulls up his power point, breathing out a sigh of relief. Aiko shoots you a grin, waggling her eyebrows. Suna? she mouths, and you roll your eyes, nodding nonetheless. Aiko can hardly wait until after the lecture to start pestering you about it. 
“So,” she says as you leave the auditorium together. “Did you tell him yet?” 
“Tell him what?” You dig in your bag for your water bottle, groaning when you remember leaving it on the edge of Suna’s sink last night. 
“Tell him that you’re in loooooove,” Aiko sings, nudging your shoulder. 
You scoff. “Okay, first of all, I don’t love him.”
“But you like him,” Aiko persists, and you hold up a finger. 
“And second of all, even if I did, I would never tell him.” You yawn, rubbing your eyes before realizing you hadn’t taken your makeup off and thus probably have awful raccoon eye bags. “He’s so out of my league it’s not even funny. It’s kind of pathetic for me to think he’d ever like me back.” 
Aiko scoffs. “If anything, you’re out of his league. You could pull any guy you wanted to. And when I say any, I mean any. Like, I bet you could even get Jake Gyllenhaal.” 
You laugh. “Why specifically Jake Gyllenhaal?”
Aiko shrugs. “Dunno. Just the first hot guy that came to mind. But forget him. My point is, Suna Rintarou is definitely yours for the taking. All you have to do is —”
“I know, I know,” you interrupt. “All I have to do is confess.” 
“Exactly,” says Aiko. Before she can open her mouth again, you cut in. 
“Okay, but listen, Aiko,” you say. “Suna’s the kind of guy who doesn’t let himself get attached. He fully admitted to me when we first hooked up that he’d never had a girlfriend. And that’s obviously not from lack of female interest. It’s because he doesn’t want one.”
“Or maybe it’s because he hasn’t found the right person yet.” Aiko starts heading towards the campus coffee shop, and you follow her. 
“Sure,” you say, getting in line. The cafe is crowded with students getting in their daily caffeination, inhaling sugary lattes and bitter espressos just to stay awake through their next class. Ah… college. “Or maybe he just. Doesn’t. Want. One.” 
Aiko keeps arguing all the way up until you reach the cash register, where you realize you haven’t even decided on what to order yet. 
“Hey there,” says the cashier, smiling sunnily. “What can I get for ya?” 
You blink. He’s attractive. Very attractive, actually. Bleach blonde, a crooked grin that screams trouble in the best sort of way. Miya, says the little name plate pinned to his shirt. “I, uhh…”
“Take your time,” he says leaning forward like he’s about to tell you a secret. “Between you and me, we have an excellent mocha latte. Not too sweet, y’know?”
You find your manners. “Oh, um, yeah. That sounds great, actually.” 
“One mocha latte, then?” he asks, picking up a cup, and you nod. “And to whom do I owe the pleasure of serving today?” 
When you tell him your name, he smiles to himself and scrawls it on the cup. “Pretty.”
You flush and pay, hands shaking a little when you slide your card down the side of the machine. The cashier notices and shoots you a knowing look. Five minutes later, when you pick up your drink from the other side of the counter, you see not only your name written on the lid, but a phone number, too, along with a tiny winking face. 
“What’d I tell you?” exclaims Aiko shrily when you leave the shop. “Any. Guy. Period.” 
You shake your head in exasperation, but you can’t help but throw a final glance over your shoulder, meeting the eyes of the cute cashier one more time. Maybe Aiko does have a point. 
+
That weekend, Suna’s stretched out on his couch, dangling his feet over the armrest and staring up at the ceiling. It’s one of those lazy Saturday afternoons, and usually he’d be enjoying his alone time. Not today, though. Today there’s something — someone — on his mind, and that someone is spelled y-o-u. His phone pings, and he snatches it up with embarrassing speed, groaning when he sees it’s just Atsumu. 
“Bastard,” he mutters, not even bothering to open the message. Probably just asking for the O-chem lab answers. 
Suna rolls over onto his stomach, pulling up your contact name. What he really wants to do is see you, but how is he supposed to do that without sounding weirdly desperate? Hey, he types out. Wanna come over and watch a movie? He pauses for a moment before adding, Pizza’s on me. 
He buries his face in his hands and deletes the text. That makes it sound like he’s asking you out. Well, that’s what he does want to do, but you can’t know that. He’s fairly certain if you knew how he felt about you, you’d freak out. Girls don’t like to be tied down, he reminds himself. Suna groans again, grabbing two fistfuls of hair in irritation. 
“Why are women so complicated?” he says aloud, letting the words echo in his empty apartment. He takes a couple seconds to close his eyes, take a deep breath, and unlock his phone again, this time settling on a simple Come over. Short, sweet, and to the point. Well, not exactly. That makes it sound like all he wants to do is sleep together, when he’d really rather just… talk. Spend time with you. 
“Oh, God,” he mutters. “I’m so done for.” 
It takes what seems like forever for you to arrive, breathless from biking, hair slightly mussed. Suna grins, biting his lip. You’re so beautiful, he thinks, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. Even if all he can get is the sex, then he’s sure as hell going to appreciate it. You smell like lavender laundry detergent, he notices when you press yourself into him, fumbling to close the door behind you without breaking the kiss. 
“Well, hello there,” you laugh when he finally breaks away and draws in a shaking breath. “Somebody’s eager.”
Suna rolls his eyes. “As if. You just took so long to get here.” 
You cock an eyebrow. “You texted me like half an hour ago.”
“Yeah, and you’re half an hour too late.”
You snort and hurl a pillow from the sofa at him. He catches it and smiles, taking your wrist and drawing you in for another messy, open-mouthed kiss.
“Sorry that I don’t have the power of teleportation,” you quip, laughing when he pulls you into the bedroom. Suna resolves to take his time with you today, undressing you carefully, trailing his lips down your sternum and collarbones, grinning to himself whenever you gasp. He almost catches himself saying “I love you” at one point as you cling to him, mumbling his name, but he placates himself with kissing you extra hard at the end instead, pulling you into his chest and falling back into the pillows. 
Usually, you’d take a few minutes to lay in silence, tracing shapes in his skin, and he’d lean back with closed eyes, imagining what it would be like to be loved by you. Slow early morning kisses, skin on skin, whispering and giggling and everything cheesy he used to hate but now wishes he could experience with you. Today, though, you peel yourself off of him and grab your phone as soon as it buzzes, fingers flying in response to whoever had texted you.
“New boy toy?” he jokes, almost choking when you don’t immediately say no. Oh, shit. “You’re kidding.”
“Just a guy I met the other day,” you say casually. Suna stares, slack jawed. “Works at the coffee shop near the quad.” 
“Coffee shop?” He furrows his brow. Doesn’t he know someone who works there? He internally scowls, digging into the back of his brain. Aran? Osamu? 
“Mm,” you say, suppressing a smile as the nameless suitor sends another text. “His name’s Atsumu Miya.”
Suna’s heart nearly falls right out of his chest and cracks at his feet. “No.”
You look up, raising an eyebrow. “No?”
“Not him,” Suna says, forgetting himself, forgetting the nature of your relationship. 
“I didn’t realize you were in charge of who I can and cannot be interested in,” you say bitingly. 
Suna sits up. “I’m not. It’s just, Atsumu… he’s not your type.” 
“You know him?”
“Yeah,” Suna says, thinking back on his days observing the Miya twins’ antics. “He’s not your kind of guy, trust me.”
“Pray tell then,” you say. Oh, fuck. You’re irritated. “Who exactly is my kind of guy?” 
Me, he thinks. I’m your kind of guy. “I don’t know. Just trust me though, okay? Atsumu… he’s difficult.” 
“Thanks, Suna,” you say, tone tinged with sarcasm. Suna cringes. You only ever call him by his surname when you’re upset with him. “But I think I can go out with whoever I want to go out with.” 
“Fine.” The word tumbles out more harshly than he’d meant it to. 
You stare at him in disbelief. “What, are you mad at me or something?” 
Suna exhales heavily. “No, I’m not mad. It’s not like we’re dating or anything. I just wanted to give you a little guidance. As your friend.” 
“As my friend?” you repeat. “My friend?”
Now it’s Suna's turn to be confused. “Are we not friends?”
“I don’t know, Suna,” you say, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, pulling your clothes on. “You tell me.” 
“I’m not sure what you want me to say here,” he says, watching as you struggle to pull your shorts back on. He knows what he wants to say. No, we’re not friends. We should be together. Isn’t it obvious? 
You huff, grabbing your bag and the water bottle you’d left behind the other day. “You know, I don’t really know either. Forget I ever said anything. I guess I just thought…” 
You trail off and shake your head, heading towards the door. Suna scrambles out of bed to follow you, pulling on his pants as he hops down the hall on one leg. “What’s that?” 
“I said forget it,” you call over your shoulder, trying to slam the door, but Suna catches your wrist. As you stare up at him, he thinks he sees your lip quivering, eyes shining with half-formed tears. “Let me go.” 
“I’m serious,” Suna says. “What did you think?” 
You draw in a deep breath, and for a second, Suna thinks you’re about to say the words he’s always wanted you to say. Then you look away. “Let. Me. Go.” 
Slowly, Suna releases you from his grasp, and you stumble backwards, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. 
“Don’t call me.”
“Wait, no —”
“Don’t call me, Suna!” you say loudly, before turning on your heel and speed walking down the stairs. 
Oh. Oh. Suna stares in shock at the place you were just standing on his doorstep. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 
When he heads back inside, head empty but for the single thought, I’ve just lost the best thing that ever happened to me, he glances at his phone on the counter. In an instant, he’s opening up his messages, pulling up Atsumu’s. 
Met a cute girl LOL. Gonna bring her to that party on Friday. 
Then, in a separate bubble — Btw: chem answers? 
+
“And then he called me his friend,” you say angrily, handing Aiko the box of Oreos. The two of you are sprawled on the floor of her dorm room. “Just like we were two bros who got together to play XBox every once in a while, instead of two people who had literally just banged.” 
Aiko takes a cookie before handing them back to you. “Asshole.”
“I mean, I know technically we were ‘friends with benefits,’” you say, stuffing an Oreo in your mouth. “But I guess I thought we could be something more. I thought there was no way he could kiss me like that, look at me like that without feeling something. Guess I was wrong.” 
“Screw him,” Aiko says. “You’ve got boys lined up around the block, and he thinks he can treat you like rubbish? Absolute bullshit.”
“I don’t have boys ‘lined up around the block,’” you remind her, smiling regardless. “Just one.”
“And that one is hella cute!” Aiko says. “You’re way too cool to pine over some guy who thinks you’ll just answer his every beck and call without even committing to a relationship.” 
You sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s just… ack. I don’t know. Am I jumping to conclusions? He seemed like he wanted to talk to me more, but I kind of stormed off without saying anything.” 
“Seems like he was pretty clear,” Aiko says with a shrug. “Your call, though. If I were you, I’d forget about him. Plus, you have Atsumu now. That’s a promising route.” 
You smile down at the Oreos, thinking about the cheery bottle blonde. “Yeah… he invited me to a party this coming Friday.” 
Aiko gives you a look and nudges your knee with her own. “You’d better wear that black dress.”
“You think?” you laugh, momentarily forgetting about Suna. 
“Oh, definitely. Gotta look your best on the first date.” 
“Right, and then after that I can just dress like a bum,” you joke. You purse your lips. “Rin might be there. Apparently he and Atsumu are pretty close.” 
“Even better,” insists Aiko. “Make him suffer a little bit. He won’t like seeing you all dolled up on Atsumu Miya’s arm.” 
“I’m not gonna try to make him jealous, Aiko,” you say, and Aiko shakes her head.
“No, I just think he needs to understand what he lost,” she says. “You don’t even have to pay attention to him at all, though. You should try and get to know Atsumu a little better.”
“Yeah, okay,” you say, before reaching down for another cookie. “Oh. We’re out.”
“Gas station run?”
“Gas station run.” 
+
When Friday rolls around, you’ve successfully managed to avoid thinking about Suna the entire day. You have a calculus exam in the morning, and then a club meeting in the afternoon, and by the time you get done with everything it’s already time to get ready to leave for the party. It’s across town at someone’s loft apartment, so Atsumu offers to give you a ride, rolling up in a shiny Lexus, a sharp contrast from Suna’s old Chevy. 
“Hey,” he says, getting out to open the door for you. “You look great.”
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you say. “Although, I might prefer the work uniform.”
“Oh, please,” Atsumu says with a grin. “That apron does nothing to flatter my figure.” 
“Mhm.” The ride there is a slightly awkward one, but that’s normal, you tell yourself. You’ve gotten so used to the easy, teasing camaraderie you and Suna have that you’re rusty in regards to flirting. Atsumu has a different sense of humor, too, nothing like the dry sarcasm Suna’s such an expert in. You shake your head. Stop thinking about him. 
Even sitting next to a new guy, you can’t help but run last weekend’s drama over in your head. The past few months have been a jumble of mixed signals, and last Saturday was no different. How he tenderly brushed your hair from your face as he hovered over you, how he pulled you into his arms afterwards … how he seemed almost jealous when you mentioned Atsumu. Was it really jealousy? Exactly how much does Suna Rintarou care for you? You roll the numbers inside your head, trying to quantify the soft touches and lingering stares. He’s not easy to read; trying to understand Suna is like trying to decipher Greek without ever taking a single class. 
Even trying to get a measure on how much you care for him is difficult. You definitely like him as more than a friend. The only reason you agreed to the whole friends-with-benefits thing in the first place was because of a little crush that grew, that fed on that intimacy… but you’re not so sure now. 
“Here we are,” says Atsumu, jolting you from your contemplation as he pulls up alongside the curb. When you climb out of the car, he takes you by the hand, flashing you a quick smile. Your heart trips over itself, and you smile back. “Let’s do this.” 
+
Suna doesn’t show up to the party. He spends most of Friday busying himself at home, paying off a couple electricity bills, cleaning out the fridge. He even does a load of laundry. That’s how bored he is. By the time the clock strikes eight, he feels as though he’s Swiffered every single kitchen tile, folded every shirt, and wiped down every counter in the entire apartment, all to avoid stewing over you and him and all the ways he keeps messing up. But after doing everything on his to-do list and watching a movie and cooking his own dinner (unheard of!) he finds himself pacing around the living room, biting at his nails and thinking about you. More specifically, you and Atsumu. He hopes you’re not wearing that little dress you wore to the club with him a couple months ago. Not that you don’t look great in it — you do, and that’s the issue. The better you look, the more likely Suna will never get a chance to be with you again. 
To be fair, he’s not entirely sure how much of a chance he’s ever had with you. You’re incredible, plain and simple. Gorgeous, intelligent, the best player two on every video game he’s ever played with you. You’re not especially adept at the games themselves; no, there’s just something about you. There’s always just been something about you he can’t seem to find anywhere else. 
“Damn it,” Suna grunts aloud, flopping down on the couch. It’s nearing half past eleven now. He wonders what you’re doing. Dancing to some shitty music in some crowded living room. Sipping a can of cheap liquor. Letting Atsumu touch your waist, his hand dipping lower and lower until — 
Suna buries his face in the couch cushion. He’s usually not one to let his imagination run away with him, but tonight seems to be one of many recent exceptions. If only there was a way to know where he stands with you, or at least where you stand with Atsumu…
Well, there is a way, actually. Almost of its own accord, his hand inches towards his phone, sliding it open and somehow finding its way into his Snapchat. Fingers shaking, Suna clicks on Osamu’s story. It’s dimly lit, a mass of bodies, loud, drunk guys and scantily clad girls. The music is too loud, even through the phone. Suna squints at the screen — there’s Aran, even Kita’s there, quietly sitting in the corner, but no sight of — Suna’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. Because there you are, and you’re not alone. You’re sitting on Atsumu’s lap, but he can’t see your expression because Atsumu is kissing you sloppily, and — oh, God — it looks like you’re kissing him back. 
And you’re wearing the fucking dress. 
“Damn,” Osamu says in the background. “Looks like he’s getting some tonight.”
Suna throws his phone across the room like it’s a grenade, staring down at his empty hands in disbelief. This can’t be happening. Not to him. Not to you. 
For the first time, Suna Rintarou thinks he understands what it really means to want someone. Not in a sexual way, but in the deepest sense of the word. Want. He wants you, and he’s pretty sure he’s never wanted anyone or anything quite so much in his life. 
All of a sudden, before his brain even has a chance to catch up, Suna finds himself shrugging on a jacket and snatching his keys from the table, dashing out the door like he’s being chased. If he leaves now, he thinks, starting the car and nearly slamming the door on his foot, he can get to the party before you leave. And then, well, then he’s not quite sure what he’ll do, but he’ll do something. 
Again, though, it seems as if the universe might be against him, because there’s an accident on the highway and it takes twice as long to get across town as it should. Suna cusses loudly over the incessant honking and chews on the inside of his cheek until it bleeds. When the traffic lets up and he finally pulls up to the apartment complex, parallel parking in a spot that’s probably illegal, he races up the stairs and into the loft, grabbing the first partygoer he sees. The poor kid’s plastered beyond belief and stares at Suna like he’s an extraterrestrial, eyes glassy.
“You see a girl leave here? ‘Bout this tall, probably left with some douchey looking blonde dude?” 
The kid blinks, hard and slow, before nodding. “Yeah, man, you just missed her. That your chick or somethin’? Because she was sucking face with —” 
Suna spins on his heel before the kid gets a chance to finish his sentence. He’s lucky Suna doesn’t deck him the head, he’s so irritated. 
“Sucking face,” he mumbles, climbing back into the car. He has the route to your house memorized (although he’s not sure how), and he’s pretty sure he breaks about twenty traffic laws trying to get there, so it takes significantly less time to arrive, but to Suna, it feels like an eternity. How did he ever sleep soundly at night knowing other guys had a shot at you before this? He doesn’t know, and he hopes he never has to worry about it again. Not after tonight. 
He gets there just as Atsumu’s pulling out of the driveway. Suna flashes him a mental middle finger and resolves to kick his ass later. No time for that right now. You’re still standing on the front porch, and when Suna stumbles out of the car, you turn towards him, mouth agape. 
“Rin? What are you—”
“Give me a chance.” He’s breathless, eyes wide and hair whipping around his face in the cool breeze. His heartbeat pounds in his ears like it’s about to burst blood vessels.
“Huh?”
“Give me a chance,” he repeats, reaching forward to take your hand. Your palm is cold against his. “I can do so much better, I promise.” 
You furrow your brows. “What in the world are you talking about, Rin?”
The dam breaks. The dam breaks, and everything — the longing, the frustration, everything — comes pouring out in a waterfall of rushing words he doesn’t even have time to think over before they splash at your feet.
“I can do so much better than Atsumu. He doesn’t know you. I know you, and I, well, I’ve liked you since forever, okay? I know your favorite color and your birthday and which Chinese place you like to get takeout from on Saturday nights.” Suna clears his throat. “I know that you like to be hugged from behind and that you hate it when people see you cry. I know so many things about you, and I want to know more.” 
“Rin—”
He holds up a hand. “Just listen. I know we’re just fuck buddies, or friends with benefits, or whatever the hell you want to call it, but I want to change that. You mean so much more to me than the sex. God, even if we never slept together again, I would still love you.” 
You stare at him. “Love?”
Suna swallows hard. “Yeah, fuck it. Love. I love you. Whatever that means to you, it means to me. I love your stupid jokes and your stupid laugh. To be honest, I’m so in love it feels like I’ll never love anyone else.”
He stops to take a deep breath and a shaky laugh. “Pathetic, right? I know it is. I can’t help it. I’m well aware that Atsumu is way more charming and outgoing, and I was probably wrong when I said he wasn’t your type… but I just need to know if I have even the smallest chance of winning you over.” 
There’s a beat of silence. Then another one. You’re gazing at him, head cocked, and the seconds tick by. He still has your hand in his, growing warmer via body heat. Suna feels himself grow increasingly nervous at your expression, curious and almost apathetic — until a wide smile breaks across your face. You laugh, and he thinks it must be the best sound he’s ever heard. 
“You weren’t wrong.”
“What?”
“He’s not my type,” you say. “We didn’t click.” 
“But — I saw, uh — Osamu’s story,” Suna stammers. “Sucking face.”
“Sucking face?” You squint in confusion before chuckling again. “Ah. Yeah, I kissed him. It was part of some stupid game. He’s kind of bad at it.” 
“Atsumu’s a bad kisser?” 
“Well,” you say, drawing the word out. “I wouldn’t say bad. It’s just… you’re better.” 
Suna’s silent for a second, letting the words ricochet around his brain. He’s better. He’s a better kisser. It was just a game. You’re not into Atsumu. “So… does that mean…?” 
“I love you, too.” You smile, and it’s not like your usual cocky grin. It’s sweet and almost… shy. 
“You love me, too?” Suna repeats in utter shock. He hadn’t expected to get this far.
“That’s what I just said,” you say. “What are you, a parrot? Speaking of which, though, I think that whole speech was the most I’ve ever heard you talk.” 
Suna doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes a step closer and pulls you in for a hug. A real hug, not like the hesitant embrace you’d given him on his birthday, or the side hug he gave you after running into you at the grocery market a few weeks ago. No, this is a true, bona fide hug, and he translates everything he’s ever wanted to tell you but couldn’t into his arms wrapping around your waist. 
“So… wanna come in and watch a movie?” 
+
A little while later, Suna’s stretched out on your mattress with you between his legs, chin resting on the top of your head. You’ve changed out of your dress and wiped the makeup from your face, and Suna catches you yawning in the corner of his eye. There’s a trashy romcom droning on your laptop at the foot of the bed. To any outside onlooker, the scene is mundane, just a typical couple enjoying each other’s company. To Suna, though, this is paradise. 
It’s almost funny. It’s funny how, a week ago, Suna was a boy pining for a girl he thought he had no chance with. He looked at you and saw something unattainable, someone who would only ever want him temporarily. (And, unbeknownst to him, you felt the same way.) He experienced an overwhelming amount of want, heart knotting in on itself and twisting and turning until it pushed him over the edge, forcing him to confront his own desires. His own inadequacies. 
It’s funny how love is what everyone longs for, but it’s also the hardest reward to earn. It’s the most uncomfortable, heart-wrenching, nerve-wracking, anxiety-inducing pathway to happiness Suna’s ever seen. But still… he’d do it all over again if he had to. The months of headaches, the overthinking. It’s worth it. You’re worth it. 
Oh, well. What can he say? Suna leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to your temples, and you tilt your head up to smile at him. Love’s a funny thing. 
Fortunately, Suna’s always down for a good joke.
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Update
Hey I’m not gone! I’ve just been working out my notice in my old job and it’s been a lot of hours and then I got vaccinated and felt like death on my one day off 😖
So I will have the next chapter of An Inconvenient Affection up soon, I’ve got the first 3000 words of it written already, I just haven’t had the time to finish it. If it helps to know, it’s almost entirely fluff and smut 🥰
But as a little treat I wanted to show you guys what I had originally written for chapter 2 of this series. I wanted to make it more of a slow burn so I ended up scrapping it, but I thought I’d show you anyway
Alternate timeline under the cut:
“Well making drinks isn’t the only skillset a bartender possesses” he looks at her quizzically. “You gotta be able to talk to people, or let them talk to you I guess. It’s part of the appeal, getting people to trust you, to like you, and maybe a few drinks in you get them to confide in you, slip up and spill something if you’re lucky” she explains.
“You really have done this before” he raises his eyebrows in mock surprise.
“I told ya so, and on that note, tell me what’s on your mind, what brought you in here this evening?” She takes a dishcloth and begins to wipe up the little spill on the table. Spencer just lets out a small chuckle but stifles it when she looks at him. Her eyes are trained on his, awaiting his response.
“Oh! You’re serious.” He takes a beat, “Well, um, I guess my wife and I have been going through a bit of a rough patch lately” he tries his best to make it sound genuine, but something about the bubbles in the drink and Y/N in her sweats opposite him has him feeling a little giddy.
“Oh that’s terrible I’m sorry to hear that” she sympathizes quickly, encouraging him to keep talking.
“Yeah she’s been sleeping around behind my back, should’ve seen it coming really” he takes a long gulp from his glass, staring into the fizz at the bottom.
“What do you mean?” She probes, “Was she the town bicycle before you got hitched?” She says it as a joke but Spencer’s head just snaps up to look at her with confusion.
“What?”
“Everyone got a ride?” She wiggles her eyebrows as she explains and he can only roll his eyes in response, his face screwing up a little with distaste.
“No!” He’s quick to shoot it down, “Nothing like that!” He waves his hand to dismiss it before downing the remainder of his drink. “She was always out of my league” he says it with a shrug like it doesn’t break her heart a little.
“Spencer” she pleads, it comes out a sort of gentle whisper, “I’m sure that’s not true”
He shakes his head, “Nope, she always has been. To be honest I don’t even know why she liked me in the first place! She’s—” he takes a moment to think, “she’s so incredibly kind, and warm, and she’s so much smarter than I am” he smiles to himself.
“Well that’s definitely not right” Y/N says in an effort to derail him, Spencer’s tolerance for alcohol has always been bordering non-existent. She didn’t want him to say anything he wouldn’t feel good about later. But it was so hard to ask him to stop.
“It is, she’s just not one to gloat about it” he thinks for a second, “y’know what, she actually is one to gloat” he says it like he’s just realized it himself and Y/N lets out a small snort of laughter. “But that’s part of her charm too, she’s funny. The kind of funny that makes my cheeks hurt whenever we hang out.” His lips spread in a wide smile that reaches his eyes as he says it, just from thinking about her. “And on top of all of that, she’s pretty. Like so pretty that when I first saw her I couldn’t remember my own name” He goes to take a sip from his glass once again before noticing it’s empty. Placing it back down on the table with an over dramatic sullen expression. “Shame she had to go cheat on me, but it’s understandable I guess. She’s her, and I’m just—”
“An idiot” she offers and he starts to laugh, nodding his head, “don’t agree with me you fool!” She reaches across the table to punch his arm gently.
“You’re an idiot for thinking about yourself like that. Like you’re not the most special person. Like you’re not deserving of love, or attention, like you’re not desirable Spence” she reaches out to grab his hand and he just stares down at them, not daring to make eye contact. He had just humiliated himself by accident and had no idea how to walk it back.
“Y/N I—” he whispered but nothing else came out.
“Shut up Spencer” she sighed, “you’re my best friend for so many reasons and I can’t have you thinking about yourself like that” her words of reassurance do little to actually help him feel any better.
He felt like he’d just made this horrifically sappy declaration of love to his best friend and now he was being lectured on his self deprecating tendencies.
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have said anything” he pulls his hand out from her grip, and rising up from the table. “I think I should probably get some rest, it’s been a long day” he wipes his already sweaty palms against his pajama bottoms.
Y/N clambers to her feet to follow him but he reaches his bedroom a little too quickly, shutting the door behind him. It’s not dramatic or petulant, the action just wreaks of upset more than anything.
Y/N didn’t want to pry, especially if he didn’t want to talk but she had no idea what she’d said wrong. For a second there it felt like Spencer might’ve felt the same way she did, she could see that glassy look in his eyes that she recognized from her own. But he’d withdraw as quickly as he’d opened up.
She took some time to think, gathering up the things from the makeshift bar and returning them to their homes in the kitchen. She busied herself until she found herself staring down at the couch, at the little pillow and duvet folded neatly and ready for use in the armchair next to it. She’d slept here so many times before but didn’t want to do it right now.
Carried on an uncharacteristic wave of courage she marched up to Spencer’s door, knocking loud enough that if he was already asleep she had a hope of waking him. He hadn’t done anything other than sit on the edge of his bed and stare at the doorknob since he’d come in. Willing himself to get up and just go back out there.
Thankfully he didn’t have to. All he had to do was open the door to a waiting Y/N, arms awkwardly fidgeting at her sides. He didn’t say anything when he opened the door, just waited patiently. There was a small lull of silence before she spoke.
“Just to clarify” she cleared her throat, “was that all about— were you— did you mean all of that?” She looked up at him, her eyes wide and pleading. He nodded when he didn’t quite have the words yet.
“Yeah, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I just, had to say it sometime”
“Oh god you are an idiot” she breathes out before lunging at him, pulling him down by the lapels of his pajama shirt to capture his lips in a tentative but sweet kiss.
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reidgraygubler · 3 years
Text
carolina (spencer reid/reader
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Title: Carolina
Request: no, but it was written for @spencerreidbingo​
Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader
Category: smut/angst, with a tiny bit of fluff
Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (praise kink, mild-innocence kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral (male & female), penetrative sex, unprotected sex/cream pie, grinding/petting, hairpulling, breathplay, multiple orgasms, possessive kink, orgasm denial), partying, drinking, swearing, large age gap (between two consenting adults), professor/student, post prison!reid, quick mentions of drinks being drugged (but not actually happening) (if I missed anything, please let me know)
Word Count: 9,064
Summary: Spencer thinks his peer is innocent. But little does he not, she’s not as innocent as he thinks.
A/N: it’s based on carolina by harry styles, bc im a sucker for a good harry song. This was written for @spencerreidbingo​ (i’ll have a separate post with more about that). this takes up the breathplay square on my card (pictured below). This is also the first time im writing a blowjob scene, so im really sorry if it’s not good. i also didn’t have a beta for this, so im kinda blindly posting this. and, lastly, this is a lot longer than i intended. i didn’t mean for it to get this long… it’s just a bunch of words my brain wouldn’t stop saying until i wrote it... i seriously hope you all enjoy this. thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!
~*~* THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT!! *~*~
{***}{***}{***}
I kept my eyes low as I stepped into the lecture hall 5 minutes before anyone else. The professor was writing something on the chalkboard, so his back was facing the room. 
“Uh, hello,” I spoked, stepping closer to his desk. He jumped slightly and dropped his chalk at the sound of my voice. I would have expected him to know students would be showing up earlier, considering it was the start of a new semester. And, I honestly would have assumed he was told a new student was coming. That’s not my job. 
“Oh, sorry,” he turned around to face me. I smiled softly, watching
as he bent down to pick up the chalk. I cocked my head to the side, watching his backside as he stood back up. He pushed his hair away from his face. “You must be the new transfer,” he asked, resting the chalk on his desk, beside a pile of pens.
“Yep. That’s me…” I smiled, looking up at his face, keeping myself from further checking him out. I quickly offered my hand and gave him my name. “I know I’m early. I figured I’d get the syllabus from you now instead of after class,” I nodded as I adjusted my grip on my bag. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes lingering on my face and then down my body, and that moment felt like an eternity. I shouldn’t be mad or frustrated with him. I basically did the same thing to him moments ago.
 I cleared my throat to get his attention once again. “The, uh… The syllabus?” I asked as my smile faltered slightly. He looked at me before looking at the pile of papers on his desk before quickly moving.
“Right, right, sorry,” he muttered as he began shuffling through the piles of paper on his desk. “Um, here you are,” he looked back up at me as he handed me a small packet. I looked at it for a moment before looking back up at the teacher.
“Perfect, thank you,” I spoke, my words kind of lingering because he never actually gave me his name. 
“Right, sorry, Spencer. Spencer Reid. I won’t be a drill sergeant about the whole Mr., Dr., Professor. You can call me whatever you want,” he smiled as he placed his hands on the back of his chair. I held back my laughter and the wildly inappropriate joke that I wanted to make.
“Well, Professor Reid,” I smiled as I looked down at my watch, “I better go find a seat before your class starts. I can’t wait to be in your class,” I looked up at him before turning to find a spot. When I sat down, Spencer looked at me with a smile, before going back to writing on the chalkboard. 
I quickly and quietly pulled out my books and pens as the other people in the class filed in and took their seats. Spencer quickly finished writing on the board before turning around to greet the class. And, even as he spoke to the class, and looked around at each of the other students, his eyes always landed on me, lingering for a moment before going elsewhere.
{***}{***}{***}
Five months. Five months into being in Spencer Reid’s class, and I have been suffering. I’m not a new student anymore. But the only friendship I’ve made is with my fucking professor, and there’s a certain level of tension between us. That tension was probably thanks to him staring at me during lectures, and me teasing him while he taught. It wasn’t too bothersome, but I definitely wanted something to happen. Unfortunately for me, I don’t think anything will happen. 
So, can someone please tell me why I invited Spencer over to help me study for a test? It’s a stupid question too, that I already figured out the answer to… I even finished studying for the day, and I’m going to a stupid party. Maybe I could get him to go with… And maybe, just maybe, something could happen.
I nearly jumped when there was a knock on the door. It’s not that I forgot he was coming over. It’s that I was so wrapped up in doing my makeup and forgot what time it was. My mascara almost smudged when I jumped back. Thank God it didn’t smudge too terribly. 
I grabbed my shirt off the counter and threw it on (not bothering to zip it), before running to the front door. I smoothed out my skirt before pulling the door open. And, there stood Spencer. 
“Hope I’m not too late,” he looked down at me and smiled. Although, his smile didn’t stay for too long when he saw what I was wearing. He wasn’t disappointed though, no. He was… He clearly liked what he saw, I’ll just put it that way.
“Oh! Thanks for coming over, but I actually figured it out. I should’ve called you,” I looked up at Spencer as he stepped into my apartment. I struggled to zip the back of my blouse as I walked towards my room. I looked back over my shoulder and noted that Spencer was, indeed, still following me. “Can you zip me up,” I stopped in my tracks before giving up on zipping my blouse. It was a black crop top that paired well with the pale pink tennis skirt. 
“Where… Where exactly are you going tonight? It’s a, uh, it’s a school night,” he asked as he lifted his hands. The cool metal of the zipper pressed against my back, causing a shiver to go through my spine.
“Uh, there’s this party,” I answered, stepping away from him and towards the bathroom, “Thought I’d go,” I looked at him in the mirror. Spencer looked around the bathroom, at the messy mess I had made on my counter. Different pallets of makeup and tools were strewn about, a varying amount of hair care products tossed here and there. It honestly looked like a bathroom of a pageant queen, and not a 20-something-year-old. In my defense, I had to dress to impress someone here in this stupid university. 
“Is that, uh… Is that smart?” Spencer asked, leaning against the door jamb. I looked up at him as I put on some luxurious red lipstick. I smiled as I looked at him.
“I think it is,” I laughed as I picked up something else and turned to look at him, “You wanna come? I wasn’t invited,” I smiled wickedly as I looked at him. His face paled two shades as he looked at me. “Oh, c’mon, Professor, no one will know us there, and I can assure you, no one will even see us,” I looked up at him as I readjusted his tie. He looked down at me before swallowing roughly. 
“I don-”
“I do need a designated driver,” I spoke before cutting him off. I walked past him and towards my room. Part of me wondered what he was thinking as I so rudely rushed past him, or cut him off, or whatever I was doing. I wished I could hear his thoughts. I wondered if they consisted of “The mouth on that girl,” or, “I should punish her for the way she’s acting,” or, my personal favorite, “I should put that mouth to good use,” 
“How old are you again?” Spencer asked once I sat down on my bed. I looked up at him as I slipped my shoes on.
“22,” I smiled and stood up, “Why, is that important?” I smiled as I grabbed my coat and purse.
“Couldn’t remember,” he lied. We both knew he was lying. He even knew that too. Freaking walking computer is what he is. There's no way he conveniently forgot how old I was. “Are you going to be out late?”
“Why? It’s not like you’re my dad or anything?” I laughed, leading him back to the front door of the house. “I don’t plan on being out too late. I know there’s class tomorrow,” I shrugged as I walked towards his car. 
We both stayed silent as he drove with the directions I was quietly giving him. I was pleasantly happy that we were both quiet, but what I hated was the sudden awkward sexual tension that was between us. If he didn’t have this… domineering personality over me there probably wouldn’t be this tension between us.
“Are you going to come with me?” I looked up at him as I unbuckled. He glanced over at me with slight disappointment in his eye. I felt a little bad, but I really wanted to go to this party, I wasn’t going to let my professor’s disappointment stop me. “Please,” I whispered. He sighed before unbuckling himself. I had to force myself to not verbally giggle with excitement before slipping out of the car. Spencer looked down at me as I twisted my hips to swish my skirt. I smiled as I entertained myself. I'm sure if I wasn't watching my skirt, I would have been staring at him, giving myself away. 
“Steps,” Spencer muttered as we got closer to the porch. I looked up at him before looking towards the small staircase. I looked up at Spencer with a smile. He glanced back down at me, a worried crease in his brow. I looked down at my skirt and smoothed it out. I looked at the door as we stood close to it, I contemplated knocking.
  “So, you weren’t invited to this party?” Spencer asked, looking down at me. His voice stopped me from knocking. Instead, I looked up at him and smiled back up at him. He raised an eyebrow as he waited for an answer from me. My smile grew playful as I looked back at the door, raising my fist to knock on it. “No answer?” he asked, still waiting for my answer.
“Oh, please, Professor Reid, I can get into the hottest parties in LA without an invitation,” I smiled at him. That was a little bit of an over-exaggeration. Most college parties I could get into. But not LA parties. Someday though… 
The door swung open, and we were instantly met with loud music blaring through a speaker somewhere in the house. People’s voices and chatter carried all throughout the house, coming through the various rooms and clusters around. “Are you coming in to babysit me? Or, are you going to go back to your car to read the science of the mathematical phenomenon,” I looked up at him, offering my hand to him. I wasn’t exactly sure if that was a real book or not, but I wouldn’t put it past Spencer to read. 
“I’m not babysitting you,” he corrected as he looked down at me with a disappointed look in his eye. I smiled and rolled my eyes. 
“Are you going to come in and watch me drink and party and have fun, Professor… Or, are you going to go back to your car and read your silly little book,” I looked down at my hand, silently telling him to take my hand and come in with me. 
“I, uh, I don’t think it’s exactly in the rules for a professor to party, let alone drink, with their students,” Spencer spoke before looking down at my hand. I dropped my shoulders and looked up at him.
“Fine then… Suit yourself,” I turned around and basically skipped into the house, leaving the door open for him. I made my way towards the loud kitchen and grabbed for a cup and bottle of whatever booze was nearby. I blindly grabbed for a bottle of Grey Goose and dumped it into the cup, no mixer, no chaser. 
“First off,” Spencer’s voice came from beside me. I looked up at him and took a long sip of vodka. “You shouldn’t be taking drinks from people at a party,” he spoke, taking the cup from me. I looked up at him, then the bottle and a new cup. I was only a little annoyed that he took my drink. 
“I… I’m young. I’m not dumb,” I grabbed a new cup and poured more vodka. I looked up at him and offered him a sip. “I know not to drink something given to me by someone I don’t know.” I scoffed before taking another long sip. I cringed a bit at how strong it was.
“Even then someone could slip something into a drink! Even if you did know them!” Spencer exclaimed, causing the surrounding people to turn and look at us. I dropped my shoulders as I looked up at him. 
“If you look around, Spencer, you’re the only person that I know. So unless you’re the one slipping something into my drink… And, as an FBI agent… I don’t think you would,” I cocked my head to my shoulder. Spencer looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “You have more to say,” I added before taking a sip of my drink.
"And, secondly, you're not as innocent as I had originally thought you were," he watched as I brought the cup of straight vodka to my lips. He looked rather unamused with my talent for drinking straight vodka.
"You thought I was innocent?" I asked, nearly sputtering the liquid with my laughter. "Please! I've never been innocent in my entire life!" I shouted over the music. He raised an eyebrow at my statement, and suddenly I had the greatest idea in the world. "But maybe, just for you, I'll be a good girl," I smiled before drinking the rest of my drink in one go. Spencer looked down at me, his lips pressed into a fine as he stared down at me. Ohh, that definitely awoken something in him. I bit back my smile with my offer. Innocent… He thinks I’m innocent. Ha! I honestly don’t remember the last time I was innocent. And, honestly, just for him… I’d be an innocent, good, little girl for Spencer Reid any day, every day even. “I can be your good, innocent little girl,” I smiled at him and cocked my head.
"I don't… I don't think that'd be… appropriate," he spoke, his words very quiet. We both knew that even though it was inappropriate, we both wanted it. We both knew what we wanted to. 
I glanced at him before pouring more drink for myself. "You should learn to pace yourself," he stated and changed the subject. He nervously looked at the bottle of vodka and then around the room at all the other people drinking. Or, he was just looking for a drink that wasn’t booze. Did he actually want to keep me safe, or was I just overreading him?     
"It's a college party, Professor! I'm not going to pace myself!" I shouted just to get his attention back to me. His head shot back down to me. The level of concern on his face only made me feel a little bad, mostly because he was concerned for me. But, he should know… This is a college party.  “Do you want some?” I asked, offering my drink to him again. I held it up to him, close to his lips. His face twisted up as soon as the scent of pure vodka hit his nose.
“No, no thanks,” he held up at hand to block the cup from his face. I pouted before bringing it to my lips. “Do you usually come to parties,” he asked, his eyes darting around the room. Part of me wondered if he wanted to continue that question with “Like this?” But,  I was too busy keeping my eyes on his face, rather than looking around the room like he was. Although, I’m sure he was used to keeping an eye on his surroundings. I’ve never been too worried about it, I probably should… But hey, you only live once. Going to college parties with your 38-year-old professor, and drinking straight vodka, and not really caring about your surroundings proves my point of YOLO.
“If I don’t have class or anything to study for… Yep,” I looked up at him with a sneaky smile. The joke with that was his particular class had a test coming up soon, and I should be studying for it. He knew that too because he just announced the test this morning. Although, he did come to my home, to help me with said test. “But, I wouldn't show up to his class hungover. It’d disappoint him too much. And, he’d care too much about me to even focus on the rest of the class,” I spoke, answering the questions he was thinking. It’s not like I’ve shown up to classes hungover before. Granted, I’ve never shown up to his class drunk or hungover. Mostly because I didn’t want to disappoint him, and only him. Anyone and everyone else can go blow themselves.
“How do you know that?” Spencer asked, looking back at me with furrowed eyebrows. I smiled and stepped closer to him.  
“How do I know what?” I cocked my head to my shoulder. I already knew what he meant by his question, but… I think teasing him and messing with him is fun. And, he knew that too.
“How do you know that you’d disappoint him?” he looked down at me, pressing his chin to his chest to get a better look at me. His hands were away from me, even though I really wanted his hands anywhere on me. I looked over at my hand and the cup I held before bringing it to my lips. I took a long sip, trying to finish the contents in one go. I tossed the cup over my shoulder and looked up at him with a lazy smile.
“Because being hungover, with the slight possibility of still being drunk, would totally disappoint him… And I would hate to disappoint him.” I whispered and shook my head. Spencer looked down at me with something in his eyes, and I loved the way he looked at me. “I told you, Professor, I’d be a good girl for you,” I cocked my head to my shoulder and smiled, “And only for you,”
“You’re drunk,” he pointed out an obvious fake statement. So, I cackled and shook my head.
“I had one drink,” I scoffed and waved off my in the air, “Most definitely not enough to get me drunk,” I flattened his tie out before gripping it tightly, “Like I said, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you,” I smiled before dropping my hand from his tie, “So, why would I show up to your class… Hungover…? I know you’d care… And I know it’d disappoint you. That’s the last thing I want to do to you,”  
Spencer’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed roughly. He quickly looked between me and the room, then back at me, then around the room. I faked a yawn before looking away from him.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay, Professor?” I smoothed out his jacket before turning and leaving him alone in the kitchen. I smiled as I skipped away from him, my skirt swishing with my movement. I secretly hoped he’d follow me. But, a quick glance over my shoulder told me he was still in the kitchen.
However, when I finished my business and left the bathroom, Spencer was leaning against the wall right beside the door. I looked up at him and smiled. 
“Follow me,” he muttered, grasping my wrist and pulling me down the various halls and past multiple groups of people. I giggled the harder his grasp grew on me and the faster he moved. I’m happy people were too busy with themselves to notice a 30-something-year-old man was dragging a 20-something-year-old girl down the hall, to which I can assume was one of the only open bedrooms. Fuck… I hope it's a bedroom. 
He was a man on a mission. Not letting anyone get in his way. The smile that grew on my lips was pure excitement. I couldn’t help it. I’m sure we’re both getting what we wanted… I hope.
I let out an excited yelp when he shoved me into, exactly what I thought, an empty bedroom. I’m surprised he knew that there’d be an empty room. Most of them are occupied, with couples (or more) doing exactly what I hope we’re about to do. Which was fuck each other.
Spencer slammed the door shut, and quickly locked it before pushing me against it. I looked up at him and giggled like a fucking kid in a candy store. Again, I couldn’t help it. 
Spencer was quiet, which led me to be quiet. The air in between us quickly grew hot and tense and thick. I really wanted this to move faster, but I wanted him to be the one in charge. I was willing to let this be slow and let him be in charge. So, when he grabbed both my wrists and held them above my head, I smiled so hard my cheeks began to hurt.
“Tell me what you want,” Spencer’s voice was low and deep as he moved close to me. There was little to no space between us. Which left little to the imagination, for me anyway. 
I looked up at him, with the biggest doe eyes I could muster, silently telling him that I wanted the most, in the entire world, was to be on my knees, with his hand tangled in my hair, and his cock down my throat, or to be fucked so hard that I won’t be able to sit properly for several days. But, I couldn’t be that blunt. You gotta play up to that moment before you get it. I’m sure in the end though, I’ll get both things.
I swallowed roughly, trying to think of what to say, because, like I said, I can’t just be blunt yet. So, when I opened my mouth and words just came out, I was pleasantly surprised with what was said. “You’re old enough to be my father, Professor,” I smiled at him as he pinned me against the door. He pressed his hips against mine to keep me against the surface. I could feel a large bulge against my inner thigh, causing me to shiver. “Does that mean I get to call you daddy,” I whispered as I looked up at him through my eyelashes. He is the one who said I could call him whatever I wanted… And he did just ask me what I wanted, and I guess I wanted to call him ‘Daddy’. There was no guessing about him.
Okay, he wasn't exactly old enough to be my father. But he was a lot older than me. Most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with men 15 years older than them… and most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with their professor… I just wanted an excuse to call him 'Daddy'. And he knew that too. So, if we gave each other an excuse for that to happen, then that was all I needed.
I dropped my head to my shoulder to allow him to attack the space on my neck. He dragged his nose across my jawbone before stilling. His lips were just over my neck. As his breathing got heavier, it tickled across my skin. 
“That does have a nice ring to it,” Spencer hummed as he dropped my hands and stepped away from me. I swallowed roughly as I stared at him. I missed having his body pressed against mine, and he knew that. 
I looked at him as I brought my hands to his belt. "I thought you said this wasn't appropriate, Daddy," I whispered as I quickly undid the belt buckle, without looking. I almost couldn’t move fast enough to unbutton and zip his pants. If he wanted me to stop, he would have stopped me by now. “Can I?” I looked up at him, a plea in my eyes.
"You've changed my mind," he muttered, watching me with such close intent, “God, please keep going,” he spoke like if I did stop now he’d probably die. I looked up at him as I slipped my hand into the waistband of his boxers. He hissed as my fingers brushed against his cock. A small smile grew on my lips. 
“Didn’t take much convincing,” I smiled as my fingers wrapped around him. A small groan fell from his lips as I looked up at him. When I pulled my hand away from him not even a moment later, he looked down at me with an alarmed expression on his face. I quickly spat on my palm before sticking my hand down his pants. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” I whispered as I slowly stroked up and down his length. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening. 
“I’ve wanted this since you stepped foot in my classroom,” his voice was low and gravely as he spoke. My breathing picked up a little bit as I looked up at him. 
Okay… Maybe he did know how long I’ve wanted this. Because I also wanted this the second I stepped into his lecture hall. I wanted his cock in my hands and his hand around my throat. It only took-what, five months for this? I’ll make it worth the wait. 
“Does that feel good,” I whispered, carefully picking up speed and adding the slightest bit of pressure in my grip. Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut as he swallowed roughly and nodded. I smiled before pulling my hand away from him, again. I slowly lowered to my knees and kept my eyes on his face. 
Spencer looked down at him as he gently pushed his fingers through my hair. His fingers gripping hard on my roots before pulling hard. I smiled before very slowly pulling down his slacks and boxers in one go. I was only a little bit intimidated by his size, but the excitement I felt went straight to my core. 
I took a deep breath and swallowed roughly before looking up at him. My mouth fell open, and my tongue stuck out, silently telling him that it was okay. Although I don’t really know why I was telling him that it was okay, we both knew what we wanted, and it was only going to take me doing one thing.
I made eye contact with him as I ran my tongue on the side of his cock. Our eye contact didn’t last long, mostly because he let out a moan and dropped his head back. I smiled as I licked across his tip. A sweet and salty taste was on my tongue. 
My jaw fell slack as I carefully took his length into my mouth. I closed my lips around him before slowly bobbing my head, with my tongue swirling around the underside of his cock. I wrapped a hand around what wouldn’t fit into my mouth. And wrapped my free arm around his leg for support.
The sounds of his moans and grunts filled the mostly quiet room. Music, although muffled through the walls and door, could still be heard from outside of our own world behind the door and four walls.
“You were right,” he struggled to speak through groans, “You aren’t as innocent as I thought,” Spencer's hand had a rough hold in my hair as he held me against him. His cock was penetrating my throat, and breathing was beginning to get difficult. My eyes grew wet and tears grew in the corners of my eyes. 
“You’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me as the tears started to roll down my cheeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if my makeup started smudging and I looked like an adolescent raccoon. “You look so pretty with my cock down your throat,” he struggled to let out a coo, before moving his hips closer to my face. 
Everything about this moment, his hand in my hair, the sounds he was making, the way he smelled, being here… Was intoxicating. I’d give anything to be in this moment again. And I’d give anything to get this moment sooner.
 My knees would hate me in the morning, I just know it. I could already sense the dreaded carpet burn before he even started. But, in all honesty, it’d be worth it. Walking into class tomorrow morning, with bruises and day-old wounds on my knees, just to see his expression.
As I began to pick up pace, the sounds Spencer was making started to become more urgent, easily telling me he was close. But, before he could finish, I pulled away from him, crashing into the wall to get away from his grasp. He looked down at me with a mild frustration on his face. I smiled before wiping my chin clean of spit. 
“I guess chivalry is dead. Whatever happened to ladies first?” I asked, my voice a rasp from how raw my throat was. I looked up at him, feeling a certain level of sass grow in my smile. Spencer quickly tucked himself back into his pants before grabbing my hand. 
“Come on, on your feet,” he muttered as he pulled me back up to a standing position. I nearly toppled over into him if he didn’t hold me upright. I looked up at him and smiled. 
“Bed… Now?” I whispered, my tone showing how urgent I was. It’s not that I wanted this over with, it's that I wanted everything to happen to me all at once, and I wanted it to last for a long time. 
Spencer nodded before cupping my face in his hands. He was harsh when he pressed his lips to mine, like his life depended on it, if he did kiss me now the world would end. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he started guiding me towards the bed. And when the edge of the bed hit the back of my legs, he pushed me back onto it. I quickly moved so my head was resting on the pillows. Spencer was quick to take his cardigan off and be over me. 
“You’re not going to fail me, are you,” I joked as he quickly started leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on my neck. He lifted his head and looked down at me with confusion on his face. “If I’m a bad fuck,”
“If you ask that again, or bring up class while we’re doing this… Then yes,” he muttered as he looked at me. I laughed as I pushed my fingers through his hair. 
“Oh, shut up,” I laughed as I pulled him down to kiss him, again. One of his hands landed on top of my breast, carefully kneading it, causing me to moan into his mouth. 
His hand slowly drifted away from my chest. I pressed my head into the pillow and looked up at him with a smirk. He carefully dragged his fingers up from my chest to the base of my neck, causing me to let out a shaky gasp. I wanted fingers and a hand around my neck, carefully cutting off my airway just right. Suddenly, I never wanted something so badly in my life. Something dark flashed in his eyes as he looked down at me like he knew what I was about to say. 
“Do it… I fucking dare you,” I muttered, placing both my hands around his wrist. My nose twitched as I stared at him. “I said fucking do it,” I spat, pushing his hand down more onto my neck. My words slowly got cut off as the pressure in his hand and fingers tightened around my neck. A moan struggled to escape me, but did eventually fall from my lips. He seemed pretty happy with that.
“Is that good,” his voice was a growl. I looked at him and moaned.
“Harder,” I begged, my voice growing raspier the more I spoke. He smirked before allowing his grip to tighten. His other hand was still sitting on top of my hips, and I could tell where he wanted to put it. I’d be a dirty, rotten liar if I didn’t want his hand up my skirt. In fact, I’d love it if he did more than just his hand. 
Spencer swallowed roughly before finally sneaking a hand up my skirt and resting it on my underwear. My grip around his wrist got tighter as he pushed past my underwear and past my folds. My eyes fluttered closed as another moan was strangled in my throat. 
“You’re so wet,” he purred as he slowly moved a finger around my clit. I looked up at him, as I struggled to swallow roughly. A dark smirk grew on his lips as he watched me struggle for a moment. “Does that feel good,” he asked, mildly mocking me from earlier. His movements picked up speed just a little bit, and my body reacted, well tried to react. 
“Oh, you’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me. His pupils were so blown I could nearly see my reflection in them. “Another thing you were right about,” he whispered as he slipped a finger into my entrance, and curled it just right. My vision slowly blurred before my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Another moan struggled to escape my throat as Spencer added a second finger. 
My body was on autopilot as I lifted my hand and hit his wrist a few times, telling him that I desperately needed to breathe. When I reopened my eyes, I looked up at him a moment before he removed his hand from my neck. Worry and concern flashed in his eyes as I breathed. Air burned like fire in my lungs as I took a deep breath. As I exhaled a loud moan followed behind, easily telling Spencer and I that I had reached my first orgasm of the night. I just hope there will be more... 
“You did such a good job, Princess,” Spencer whispered as he looked down at me. With his free hand, he brushed the tears away from my cheeks. He carefully withdrew his hand from between my legs and held them up to his face. He looked at them for a moment before placing them in his mouth, sucking and licking them clean. I took a shaky breath and nodded. 
He very sloppily pressed his lips to mine, then on the corner of my lips, and down my jaw, and neck. With one quick movement, a loud rip filled the room, as he tore my shirt off my body. I looked up at him with shock in my eyes. To be fair, that shirt was flimsy, to begin with. I was more worried about leaving my chest so exposed as we left the party. 
“Oh, I’ll give you my sweater,” Spencer muttered before attacking my neck and then down to my collarbones, and over my breasts. I gasped as he wrapped his lips around a nipple.
“Mmm, Daddy,” I whimpered as I shifted under him. I brought my hands back up to his hair, tangling my fingers in the hairs on his neck. When he sensed that I was growing restless (even though he just started), he quickly left wet kisses down the rest of my body
“I like the way that sounds coming from your mouth,” he whispered once he was in between my legs. I looked down at him just as he looked up at me. “Good on your end for wearing such a short skirt,” he smiled before pressing his lips to my inner thigh. A shaky breath tumbled from my lips as I looked at him. “Makes for easier access,” he added before going higher up on my leg.
“You’re not going fast enough,” I whined as he just kept kissing, or licking, or rubbing my inner thighs. It was honestly getting annoying. I kind of felt bad for him. Considering I’ve already cum once, and I got him close but didn’t let him finish. 
“I’m not going fast enough?” Spencer looked up at me. I shot him a scowl as I shifted slightly on the bed. Spencer looked back down the apex of my legs before looping two fingers around the band of my underwear. As soon as I lifted my hips, he pulled my underwear off my body and chucked them to the ground beside the bed. “How’s this for fast enough,” he muttered, mostly to himself, before licking between my folds. A breath of air got caught in my lungs as my hands found their way to his hair, my fingers getting knotted up in his roots. 
“Mhm, Spencer,” I gasped, rolling my hips up at him. He hummed, sending vibrations straight to my core. My legs wrapped around him, my heels digging into his back as my own back arched. 
“Ohh, Daddy, please don’t stop,” I cried, pressing my head into the pillow beneath my head. My fingers pulled hard on his hair, pulling him closer to me. He hummed again as he pushed two fingers back into my entrance. My grip in his hair tightened, and I could feel my grip wanting to loosen. 
My breathing picked up as a familiar feeling grew in my stomach. And all I could say was his name, and the suddenly loved nickname I had for him. He seemed to appreciate my reaction too, because he worked faster. Messy and wet sounds, mixed with my breathy moans and calls of his name filled the room, and my end was near. 
“Fuck,” I shouted as I finally came undone. I could sense if I didn’t pull him away, he’d keep going, and going till I couldn’t take it anymore. And, honestly, that sounds great, but I think that’s for next time. I wanted him in me now. “Spencer, Spencer,” I cried as I tried to pull his head away, but failed so hard.
“Nuh huh,” he hummed, looking up at me. I took a deep breath and pressed my head into the pillow beneath me and threw an arm over my face. “Please, Spencer,” I cried as I bucked my hips at him, “Fuck me, please, fuck me, Daddy,” I moaned. He was going faster than before and was clearly trying to work me to the end faster too. It was hard to breathe, and speak because my words would just get stuck in my throat.  
Although, when I did cum, again, for the third time tonight, Spencer did move away from my legs. He knelt between them, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. My body was shaking lightly as I tried to come down from my high.
“Please,” I whispered, lifting a hand up, trying to reach for his tie. He looked down at me with a smile and raised an eyebrow.
“Please what?”
“Please, Daddy,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I spoke. I could feel my voice becoming a little whiney. Spencer moved so he was hovering over me, his fingers gently brushing hair away from my face.
“Tell me what you want, Princess,” he whispered cupping my face in his hand. I looked up at his face, admiring his lips, and eyes, and nose, and the way his lips had a sheen from when he licked them clean and whatever was leftover from when he was eating me out. 
“Please fuck me, Daddy,” I begged, begged. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine for a moment. He sat up away from me to remove his sweater and shirt. My head was spinning from excitement, I didn’t even notice that he was totally undressed.
Spencer was back between my legs, looking down at me like I truly belonged right here. Or, like I was his to fuck with. Either way it was a good feeling. 
“Ready?” He asked, his voice so low that I could hardly hear it over the bass of the loud music. I rapidly nodded my head, worried my answer was the wrong one. But it wasn’t. I desperately wanted this. Needed. I needed this. 
Spencer hovered over me before putting an opened mouth kiss on my lips. I could hardly breathe as he rubbed the tip of his cock against my clit and entrance. I could feel a moan getting caught in the middle of my throat, my body not being about to handle anymore teasing. Until, he very slowly pushed into me.
“Oh, good girl,” he repeated. Those two words, constantly coming off his tongue. Making me feel good. The praise that I hadn’t heard in such a long time, that I longed for. Part of me wondered if he knew I wanted it. “Has someone not been taking care of you?” he asked, looking down at me. I stared at him, not trusting my own voice. My mind was too distracted with the way I felt, light and airy but at the same time full. So I shook my head.
“No, Daddy,” I whimpered and kept shaking my head. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine. 
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you now. I’ll take care of you,” he mumbled before moving his hips. It took him a moment to get a perfect rhythm. He lips attached to different spots on my neck, leaving hickies in his wake.
“Spencer,” I whispered as I moved my head closer to my shoulder to let him have more space.
“You feel so good,” he grunted as he moved his hips so he was deeper in me, “You feel so good, and you’re all mine,” he pressed his forehead to mine as he wrapped his arms around my lower back, pulling me closer up to him. My breathing got deep, my chest heaving with each breath I took. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down, closer to my face. 
“Oh, be quiet,” I whispered before putting my lips on his. He smiled before passing his tongue between my lips. A moan fell from my lips, which he seemed to enjoy… Considering it was probably just music to his ears. 
“I’ll only be quiet if you keep making those little noises,” he muttered against my lips. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He smiled again as I knotted my fingers in the hair on the back of his head. 
“Faster,” I breathed out, keeping my eyes on him. Spencer laughed lightly as he picked up the speed. My hips bucked with his, meeting at the right points. “Please,” I whimpered as I threw my head back more into the pillow. He pulled his arm away from my back and brought his hand between our legs, where we met. 
“It’s okay, Little Girl,” Spencer whispered before pressing his lips to the side of my face. I let out a shaky breah and arched my body into his. I couldn’t believe how good I felt. I almost wasn’t sure if it was fair that my professor was better in bed than other men my age. He was more experienced, to be fair. “You can finish, it’s okay,” he kept his voice low. It almost sounded like he was giving me permission.
I nodded my head, breathing heavily through my nose. “Mmm, Spencer,” I moaned, loudy, as my walls fluttered around him and my release came. And a few moments later, Spencer thrusted deep into me with a grunt, filling me with his essence. His body collapsed on top of me whence he finished.
“Fuck,” I muttered, my fingers still tangled in his hair. My limbs were sore and shaking slightly from the rough movements. Spencer laughed lightly, agreeing with my statement. “We can’t sleep here,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the ceiling above us. I wished we could just sleep here, mostly because I was exhausted after everything we did.
“I know,” Spencer replied as he slowly moved off and away from me. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “You’re messy now,” he muttered as he basically tumbled off the bed. I quickly sat up, just to make sure he was okay. Although I was happy he was okay, I quickly regretted moving as fast as I did. 
“Your sweater,” I mumbled, reaching out towards where his sweater was lying. He looked down at it before picking it up to hand to me. He also grabbed a fistful of tissues and moved to between my legs, again. “Just give me your boxers,” I looked at him as he wiped the insides of my thighs clean. He looked back up at me, still cleaning my legs. 
“I’ll give you a ride home,” he spoke as he tossed the dirty tissues to the trash. He grabbed his slacks and boxers, tossing me his boxers. I slipped them on under my skirt, and then slipped his sweater on. 
“I’d hope so,” I whispered as I stood up. My body wobbled for a second, nearly falling over, before I caught my balance. Spencer looked back at me, looking at how fucked I looked. I mean, I probably looked about the same as him. 
“I’d given you a ride home either way,” he said as he redressed. I looked at him with confusion on my face. Either way? So even if we hadn’t had sex, he would have given me a ride. I asked him and he said yes. So I would hope he’d given me a ride, even if we didn’t fuck.
Once we were both ready to leave this stupid party, that I didn’t even enjoy (well, I did, I was just in a different world), or was even invited to, we walked out. It was as easy as pie. And, since no one really knew either of us were here, I won’t be known as the girl who fucked the professor.
The drive home was quiet. Like, even quieter than the drive here. He didn’t even have the music playing. I wondered if it was my fault, if he was regretting what we had done. If I had known he’d be so regretful, I wouldn’t have wanted to fuck him. But, I guess its too late now. 
When I looked out the window, I realized we were parked outside my apartment building. I looked down at my attire and looked back at Spencer.
“Thanks… Thanks for the ride… And thanks for the sweater. I’ll be sure to give it back to you… Eventually,” I looked up at Spencer as I pulled the door open to leave.
“See you Thursday,” he nodded at me. I looked at him before slamming the door shut. I scoffed before turning to walk up to my home. I couldn’t want to sleep.
{***}{***}{***}
Two weeks. Two weeks since Spencer and I fucked. Okay, not too bad. I don’t regret it, and I’m not afraid to say that. However, I think he might be regretting it. Considering he’d been nothing but ignoring me since the night of the par-Well, I wouldn’t say ignoring me since then. He did fuck me in his office the following Thursday. But, it’s still been two weeks since he last said anything to me. Fuck, I’ve never been so mad.
“Good morning, Professor Reid,” I looked at him as I skipped into his lecture hall. I heard his words begin to greet me back, but fail when he saw what I was wearing. “Best get to my seat. Excited for today’s lesson,” I readjusted the cardigan that hung off my shoulders before turning to go to my seat. 
I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull as I walked away from him. Or, was he staring at my ass. Most likely my ass. It was my ass he was staring at. I was wearing a fairly short skirt, so that’s on me. But, I’d do anything to get his attention today. And it would appear I have gotten it. 
His lesson wasn’t actually anything important. It was just revision for the test coming up soon. But, it was obvious he had other things on his mind, and I was very clearly one of them. It was honestly a little distracting if I’m going to be honest.
So, I was happy when he called the end of class 5 minutes early. Although that excitement was gone the second he called my name to the front to talk. I looked at the ground as I stood by his desk, waiting for the very last person to leave so Spencer and I could have our moment alone.
“What are you doing wearing that?” Spencer asked as soon as it was just us. I tried to ignore the fact that he was trying to take the sweater off me, and made my shoulders drop.
“What? This old thing?” I asked, pulling the cardigan that he let me wear around my body. I looked back at him and smiled. He was not smiling. “You gave it to me,” I scoffed, letting him take it off me without a fight. I watched as he folded it over the back of the chair before turning to face me. 
“I gave it to you so your,” his words began to get jumbled up as he gestured to my boobs, “So you weren’t exposed in front of any-”
“So no one would see what belonged to you?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. Spencer looked down at me, a flabbergasted look on his face. I smiled and cocked my head to my shoulder.
“I… I never said that,” Spencer shook his head.
“Yeah, but you thought it,” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Spencer looked down at me. I could tell that he was trying to be the one in charge, kinda like how he was the other night. But it was so, so clear that he couldn’t be in charge. That he wouldn’t be in charge now. That this was just embarrassing to him. Maybe that’s just how our dynamic would work. Out in public, I was the loud one, the one who made everyone think that I was in charge in the bedroom. And, Spencer, in public, was the quiet, shy, nervous one, who was clearly submissive in bed. But in actuality, he was telling me what to do, when and when I can’t cum.
 “Why were you wearing that?” he asked again, his voice pulling me from my very dirty thoughts. I looked up at him and smiled.
“Because you were ignoring me! I needed to get your attention somehow! And then I remembered I still had that,” I smiled at him. I wished I still had his sweater on, because it was actually quite cozy and warm. The look he gave me made me drop my shoulders, suddenly feeling ashamed about the current situation. So, I stared at him, feeling annoyed. More annoyed than I have over the last two weeks. “Do you regret it?” I finally asked, not really knowing if he’d be mad with my question. 
“Pardon me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at me. I shook my head and looked down at the ground. “It’s not that I regret it-”
“So you do,” I looked back up at him and dropped my shoulders again. Before Spencer got the chance to say anything, I cut him off, “Oh please, you loved shoving your tongue, and cock, down my throat,” I scoffed before looking at him. The expression on his face flinched slightly as he looked back at me from behind the desk. “I get to… I get to be your good, little girl, your princess for, what, a week? A day? 12 hours? Whenever the fuck you want... And I’m supposed to go back to normal life the next day? And… And pretend that nothing happened!” I stared at him and shook my head. Spencer looked over at the door and back at me. “Thinking it’ll never happen again!” I shouted. I didn’t mean to shout, honest. But I was starting to get angry. He made me feel something like I belonged to someone. And now I don’t feel like that. 
“Will you stop talking for a second,” he muttered before stepping away from me and his desk. He walked over to the door and shut it. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched as he walked back over to me. “I never said you had to pretend as if nothing happened. And I never said that I regret it,” he spoke in a harsh whisper. I looked at him with mild irritation on my face.
“It sure fucking felt like it,” I spat at him. 
“You’re all I think about… Christ, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that. I never said you had to forget everything… Because I’ve been having a hard time forgetting it myself.” He looked up at me. I almost refused to look at him, but his voice was so soft that I had to look at him. “I never expected you to forget,” he added. 
“Then why are you acting like it didn’t happen,” I stared at him before swallowing roughly, “You made me feel like I was wanted, that I belonged somewhere, with someone,” I spoke as I stepped closer to him. It was only a little bit closer to him, not as much as I wanted. But he stepped closer to me, making it so we were the closest we had been all day, in one large step. "You remind me of home," I added in a whisper. Spencer smiled and cocked his head to his shoulder.
“You do belong somewhere,” he whispered, resting his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him, feeling my heart pick up speed, and butterflies appear in my tummy. “And that somewhere is with me,” he brought at hand to my cheek, allowing his thumb to rest on my lower lip. I looked up at him before he pressed his lips to mine. 
I was honestly expecting him to say something else. I don’t know what. But I liked what he said, it made me feel really good. Like, I belonged with him, and nothing could change that.
taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @thebluetint​
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mystery-star · 3 years
Text
Shipping Experiment– Spock
Pairing: Spock x reader (gender neutral)
Warnings: involuntary drunkenness
Words: 3686
A/N: I got this idea when I stumbled upon a BTS picture of the AOS movie productions. Then I discussed it with @cleversturmhond​ and decided it had to be written. I know the pic is for AOS but can be read for TOS as well.
Please do not repost my work on other sites or platforms!
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-
Being an Ensign usually meant that you couldn’t go on many away missions. So it was always something very special for you to get chosen. You only hoped that your husband had no saying in it because you wanted to be chosen because of your skills and not the fact that you were married to the Chief Science Officer and First Officer of the ship. On the other hand, if it had been Spock’s idea to take you on the mission, it probably had a logical reason, after all he always claimed that he did not make emotional decisions while on duty. Maybe you could ask him later on who had had the idea to allow you to come to the mission.
For a reason you were surprised to learn that the aliens that lived on the planet were very friendly because so far you had usually only heard stories of how the landing party had been almost killed or abducted by the inhabitants of the planet. The natives even invited you for dinner and the Captain immediately agreed. You on the other hand didn’t know if it was such a good idea to just eat foreign food, what if it was poisonous for you? Sure, Kirk claimed that the alien’s physiology was not that different from your own but it still was no guarantee that the food would not hold and unpleasant surprises.
Unfortunately, the meal tasted a bit bland but otherwise it was very good and you ate a lot, probably more than usual. They even served some kind of ‘dessert’, just that it consisted of a bitter drink. After the meal, you were allowed to watch some kind of welcome dance the natives did for you and also encouraged all of you to dance as well. To your surprise, even Spock joined them a bit later, but probably only because four of your hosts were pulling on his arms and trying to get him up and on the dance floor. With determined steps he came over to you, offering you his hand
“Do you mind?”
“I’d love to” you said, taking his hand and placing the other hand on his shoulder. When you had first seen what a skillful dancer he was, you almost couldn’t believe it. Even less that he had never taken dance lessons in secret and just seemed to be a whiz kid, like at everything else. Not that you minded though, it was something you loved about him, how good he was at everything or how quickly he learned if something was indeed new for him. You amused yourself very much and also Spock seemed to do so. But then you saw him smile at you and in shock you let go of him “What’s wrong’” you asked.
“What are you referring to?”
“Your smile, you just smiled”
“I do not believe I did. You must have imagined it”
“Yeah sure, let’s just deny it all as if it was a shame” you said, gently taking hold of him again to continue your dance. Probably you would have just forgotten about it, if his smile had not etched itself into your memory and made it hard to be forgotten. And it wasn’t just his smile, suddenly, he also leaned his forehead against yours and pulled you closer, letting out a small sigh. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Your definition of ‘okay’ is unclear” he muttered
“I want to know if you’re feeling as usual. Or if you think that something’s off”
“Nothing is ‘off’. I simply enjoy having you close”
“Well I take that as a compliment” you pecked his cheek. While some of the other crewmembers seemed to have had enough, Spock was still twirling you around, even more energetic than before. And at times you could have sworn to see a big smile on his face. Finally, the Captain approached you
“I didn’t know dancing made you that happy”
“What are you trying to say?”
“That you’re grinning like a Cheshire cat” Spock raised an eyebrow
“You are referring to the animal from Alice in Wonderland”
“Yeah. You have something of him right now”
“Is it true?’” he asked looking at you
“Yeah you have been smiling at times But that’s okay. As long as it means you’re feeling happy that’s perfect”
“I would not call it ‘perfect’. I do not like not being in control of my emotions” you had stopped dancing by now
“So what are we gonna do? Do you want to go back to the ship?”
“Perhaps that would be a good solution. Then I can extend my meditation period”
“And leave poor (Y/N) all alone down here?” Kirk said, patting your back.
“Or I can just leave with him” you said “I kinda am getting tired from all the dancing”
“I apologize” Spock said “If you wish to accompany me back to the ship you are welcome to do so”
“Perfect” also Jim gave a nod and so your husband and you left the place after bidding your hosts goodbye and requested to be transported back to the ship. On the way to your shared quarters, Spock took your hand and squeezed it. You checked the time “It’s only 2014 hours. Would you like to do something?”
“If you do not mind I would like to engage in meditation for some time”
“Right, you said that you’d do that. I’ll just be reading something then”
-
Two hours later, Spock was still in the bathroom for meditation. But unless most times he was talking to himself. With a sigh you got up and stopped in front of the door. Of course you knew he didn’t like to be disturbed and that meditation was private to Vulcans. Yet you gently knocked at the locked door.
“Are you okay?” you asked with a quiet voice but got now answer “Spock?”
“Yes”
“Sorry for disturbing you but you were talking and I wanted to see if you’re alright”
“I am” he said “Test Object Leonard... Time: 1.28 seconds”
“What are you doing?” you asked, entering the code to open the door. You didn’t know what to say when you saw what he was doing. He had rid himself of his meditation robes and was standing at the sink in underwear, a dozen or more of origami swans or folded boats, made from toilet paper were sitting on top of the sink. In his hand, he held your lip balm, which he obviously had used to write something on the mirror “Oh Spock” you said, not sure if it was a good idea to laugh “What’s this?”
“I want to find out how long it takes until the figures are soaked with water and unfold”
“Oh well… uh” you only knew one thing. This was not normal behavior for your husband “What about your robes?” he looked at the pile of clothes, something else atypical because usually he carefully folded and put his clothes away unless he put it in the laundry box (and even for in there he did fold them a little).
“I took them off so they will not get wet”
“Well okay” you moved closer and watched, how he launched a swan called Sulu and noted that it was soaked within 1.31 seconds before noting name and the time on the mirror “Come on, you can drown more toilet paper tomorrow”
“I do not drown it. It is an experiment”
“You still can continue it tomorrow”
“Then the conditions might be different”
“Shouldn’t something be tested under different conditions?” he looked at you then turned back to his ‘experiment’, putting the next thing into the water, this time a boat called Sulu. You had the impression that he had each a swan and a boat that were named after someone of the crew. When you checked the list, you saw that also your name was at the top of the list, making you smile. “Come” you said “You can finish tomorrow. I think you have enough data for today” you pointed at the mirror
“I am not done yet”
“We continue tomorrow. I’ll help you” he looked at you
“Then I can get started with the report now”
“Or we go to bed. It’s late”
“I usually write my reports at around that time”
“Yeah but usually don’t soak toilet paper figures in the sink either. Let’s go” he looked at you
“No!” he said, rather fiercely, making you wince
“Spock!” you insisted “I don’t know what’s wrong with you but you are not alright right now. So let me get you to bed or I’ll call McCoy”
“He will be off duty by now” he grabbed the next swan but you took hold of his wrist.
“I can just call med bay. I bet you’d hate someone else looking at you even more”
“I do not need a doctor, I am fine”
“Don’t you usually not use the word fine because it has no logical definition just like ‘okay’?”
“It does, I only tried to make it clear to you by using your vernacular” still he started a lecture of the different meanings of the two words, depending on the context. You sighed and gently tried to lead him away from the sink and to your surprise and relief he complied. As long as he was talking, you could get him back to your bed room and hand him his sleeping shirt which he put on without further ado. But then he was done with his explanation and the started behaving like a kid again, refusing to but on his pajama trousers and insisted he had to continue his experiment.
“No you don’t. If you go back into the bathroom, I’ll throw all your boats and swans into the toilet and flush them” he stared at you and his mouth fell open slightly. You couldn’t hide a grin
“I will make new ones” he said and left for the bathroom
“No!” you shouted and wrapped your hands around his waist, trying to stop him. But since he was stronger than you, due to his Vulcan heritage, he managed to walk to the bathroom anyways. So you let go of him and went to the intercom instead, contacting Med bay that they came to have a look. After all it was possible that his state could be dangerous. You were quite certain it had to do with something that happened on the planet, probably something he ate or drank. When you ended the communication, you saw that Spock wasn’t in the bathroom anymore. He also wasn’t in the bedroom either “Spock?” you called but you got no answer. His figures were still standing on the sink but you noticed that his lute was gone. With a sigh you started the computer on the desk “Computer, where is Commander Spock?” you asked, not wanting to search him. Besides, he could be everywhere.
“Commander Spock currently is in recreation room 3 on deck 5”
“Oh” you said and left your quarters hurrying there as fast as you could. The scene you saw did shock you but you still had to pull back to not start laughing. It was even worse than what you had seen in the bathroom in your quarters. Spock was still only wearing his nightshirts, boxers and was sitting on one of the tables, seeming to be tuning his lute. And of course he was not alone in the rec room and almost everyone was staring at him or you “Spock!” you hissed as you slowly approached him “What are you doing, honey?” you placed a hand on his arm
“I am not making honey” you rolled your eyes
“I can see that. It wasn’t a question. I meant you by honey”
“Why?”
“You’re not in a state to discuss this. Come, let’s go back. You still have your experiment to finish”
“I am off duty” he said trying out his lute again.
“Well then we just go to bed. Or are you hungry again? Just let’s get you out of here. People are watching” you said quietly. At that, his head shot up and he glared at the people in question and they were quick to look away or pretend to focus on something else. You sighed “Come on. We can come back when you put pants on” he looked down his legs “Yes, you’re only wearing underwear”
“That is not underwear” he gestured at his shirt
“Yeah. But this” you pointed at his boxers. Come” you offered him your hand but he slapped it away, putting a foot on his table and started to play on the lute.
“I would like to play you a song”
“You can do this when I’m in bed. Because I’m very tired” you faked a yawn “Then you can help me fall asleep. How does that sound?”
“As if you think my song is boring” he pouted and you shook your head.
“That’s not what I meant. But it is very calming. And it’s been a long day. Are you not tired?”
“I am Vulcan”
“That doesn’t answer the question” he didn’t say anything and you sighed “Fine” you pulled your hand back and gave a nod, walking over to the intercom to contact Med Bay again because the doctor had to come here and not your quarters. You probably didn’t’ have the strength (or will) to bring your husband back to his quarters. When you were done, you also contacted the Captain to tell him what was going on and to let him know that maybe Spock wouldn’t come to work tomorrow
“What do you mean by ‘behaving odd’? Is it a Spocksih odd we’re used of him or odd odd?”
“Odd odd. Unless he’s sitting on the tables in rec room just wearing his boxers and playing his lute each day”
“No, you’re right that is odd. When did he start behaving like that?”
“I don’t know. He went mediating when we returned. But maybe his smiles on the planet already had to do with his situation”
“Did you let McCoy know?”
“He’s got off, so I contacted Med Bay”
“Very well. Do you need help?”
“Are you already back?”
“Yeah, we all are by now”
“Oh okay. But no, I called for a doctor he’ll help me to bring Spock back home”
“Perfect” you turned around to your husband
“Oh fuck”
“What? What is he doing now?”
“No idea”
“How do you mean that?”
“Because he’s gone. He’s not here anymore”
“Do you need help searching him?”
“Only if you don’t mind”
“My friend and First Officer is running around the ship drunk and half naked. Of course I can make time to search him”
“Good” you quickly discussed where you would go looking (respectively that you’d ask the computer for his location again) before contacting Med Bay yet another time to let them know that you had lost your husband again. Then you went to the next computer to hear his location. As it seemed he currently wasn’t in a room but was still underway to wherever he was heading. That was if he had a place he wanted to go. As you followed his path, you stopped to ask a computer again and when you heard where Spock was, you sped up even more. He had gone to the Pharmacology lab and in his state you had no idea what he’d do and he could get himself killed if he did something wrong. When you arrived at the lab, two people of sickbay were already there, talking to your husband. “What’s going on?” you asked, taking your husband’s hand.
“Your explanations made me realized that something is indeed wrong with me. I was trying to find something against it” he gestured at two small vials in front of
“Did he take anything?”
“No, luckily not” the nurse said while the doctor ran a scanner over Spock
“Is he okay?”
“No” Spock replied, making you squeeze his hand. To your surprise he pulled you closer until your head was resting against his chest. Suddenly he let out a yelp and when you looked up you saw how the doctor had injected a hypo into Spock’s neck. At the same time as your husband you asked what it was and were told that it something that would help him calm down a bit. The nurse then continued explaining that everything was alright so far and he just seemed drunk. So you should just take him back to your quarters and let them know in case something happened. With a grin you shook your head.
“What did you do huh?” you nudged his arm, making him glance down at you
“I did not take anything”
“On the planet. But you couldn’t know. We all didn’t. Now let’s get you to bed and tomorrow everything will be better” also Kirk now arrived in the lab and was asking what was going on, whereupon he received a briefing from the doctor.
“And he’s fine now?”
“He’s always been fine. But (Y/N) should keep an eye on him, just in case. But I don’t think something will happen. I’d take some blood but I have the impression that in his state he will not allow it”
“What if you wait until the sedative you gave him works?”
“Of course we could but as far as I can see he’s fine. Just not used to being drunk. I only thought we could find out what put him in that state. Maybe we’ll have to take some blood if he gets worse which he shouldn’t”
“Okay, that’s great to hear” you said with a nod and when you saw, how your husband slightly slackened you took hold of his arm
“It’s starting wo work” the nurse commented and you tried to lead him back to your shared quarters which you only could when also Kirk took hold of him and helped you. Together you more or less dragged Spock back to your quarters and after asking if you could manage, the Captain left you.  Spock pulled you to the bed, sat down on its edge and after you were in his lap, he embraced you tightly.
“Careful” you muttered “Don’t forget how strong you are and your thousand lectures about how you could snap all my bones just like that” he didn’t reply but nuzzled the side of your neck. “How about you let me get ready for bed and then we can lie down and cuddle until we fall asleep?” again he did nothing so you let out a sigh “Aren’t you tired?”
“Not very much. However, I wish to hold you longer”
“You can also do that when we’re trying to fall asleep?” now his arms disappeared and you got up, getting out of your clothes, when you heard the bathroom door close. “Please just don’t continue your experiment” you muttered as you put on a top for in the bed. You sat down on the bed, taking out a PADD to read an article before Spock returned but again he stayed in the bathroom. After fifteen minutes you put your device aside and knocked at the door but got no answer, so you opened it. You had to cover your mouth to not burst out laughing. He was cuddling his robes he had discarded earlier against his chest and was fast asleep on the bathroom floor. Of course you knew that you wouldn’t be able to bring him back to bed so you returned to your bedroom, got your blanket and spread it over him. For a while you stood there, looking down at him and considering if you should join him or spend the night in bed before you sighed and grabbed your pillow to lie down beside him as well.
-
It was one of the first times in your marriage that you woke up before Spock. But knowing he’d probably be awake any time, you waited for him with breakfast. When he appeared in the door frame you had to bite back a chuckle because you had never seen him so disheveled.
“Morning” you greeted, putting your PADD aside
“Morning, (Y/N)” he replied with a nod. “I cannot find a logical explanation why I have woken up in the bathroom”
“Because you fell asleep there. Bam, logic” you got up and walked to the replicator “Water or tea?”
“Then I cannot recall why I would have chosen the bathroom floor as suitable place to spend the night”
“Oh well I can’t answer that either. But I might have an idea”
“That is?” he asked, walking to the bed to put the blanket on it, of course folding it neatly before taking a new uniform from his wardrobe.
“You don’t remember?”
“I am not certain I understand what you are referring to”
“Well” you grinned, getting your own breakfast, “I guess I’d better tell you before Kirk surprises you with made up stories about your half-naked adventures in the rec room. Come to think of it, you might want to make sure he doesn’t find the video”
“Which video?” if he hadn’t been shocked before he definitely was now. The intercom beeped and Spock answered it
“How’re you doing, druggie?”
“I do not understand your reference”
“You don’t remember? Pity, I’d love to see your face. I could tell you everything but I guess that (Y/N) knows a few more details. In fact I’d love to hear the whole story. Anyways, I just called to let you know I pulled a few strings to let you take off this morning, Spock”
“I do not see…”
“And I don’t care. I won’t let you come to the bridge. Oh and Bone’s awaiting you in Med Bay he said” the call ended and Spock looked at you as if he was lost.
“It seems there something you should tell me”
“Yeah” you gestured at his chair “I know Vulcan got nerves of steel, not anatomically, but you might better sit before I start”
-
Taglist: @softsapphicideals
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marauderundercover · 3 years
Text
Taking Chances Ch. 21: Apologies (Father’s Day)
AO3
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Marinette purses her lips as she looks at the neatly wrapped package in her hand. She knew she should still give it to her dad, shouldn’t let her hurt over the Gala stop her from celebrating Father’s Day with him for the first time. She’d already gotten confirmation from her Maman that her present for her Papa had arrived. So that was taken care of. A small part of her, the petty part, wanted to use Kaalki and go back to Paris for Father’s Day. But she also didn’t want to hurt her dad, no matter how much he’d hurt her. She had to be better than that, she is Ladybug after all. Sighing, she drops the present onto her bed. Grabbing the rest of what she needed for a movie night at one of Jason’s safe houses, she rushes out of her room. She knew that her dad’s conversation with Superman in the Batcave wouldn’t last too long, and then he’d be looking for her and Damian to lecture the hell out of them. Unfortunately for him, neither of them planned to be around to listen to it. 
“Got everything Pixie Pop?” Jason asks as she rushes down the last of the steps, barely stopping herself from falling. She quickly balances herself and shoots her brother a small grin. 
“Yup. Let’s go before I can get grounded.” She says, rushing past him and out the door, grinning as she hears his loud cackles behind her. It will get better. She’d talk to her dad eventually, and shove the bad feelings away. But she was going to let herself mope for another day. After all, letting herself feel negative emotions was part of the reason her parents agreed to let her stay in Gotham for the summer. 
---
“What do you mean there’s an entire movie about you and Cat boy?” Jason asks, shoving another cookie in his mouth. Marinette shrugs. 
“I mean we have a movie. It’s not my favorite, it’s kind of ridiculous. None of it is accurate. Except, Adrien did voice Chat Noir for the movie...still not sure why he thought that was a good idea.” She says, thinking back to the original premiere of the movie and all of the drama that came with it. 
“Well shit. He’s not the brightest kid, is he?” Jason asks with a snort. Marinette opens her mouth to argue, then remembers some of Adrien’s….less brilliant moments. Okay, so maybe he’s not perfect.
“Ya know, we were once cast as Ladybug and Chat Noir in a music video.” She says, snorting at the look on Jason’s face. 
“You’ve gotta be kidding. Really? Kid, please tell me you didn’t go through with it.” He says, looking mildly distressed. Marinette just rolls her eyes. 
“No, we didn’t. The concept for the video changed and so no more hero costumes. I was terrified though. Kept losing the mask on purpose ‘cause I was convinced the mask would be what gave it away.” She admits with a small laugh. 
“Ya know, that’s almost as bad as the time that someone at WE thought it’d be a good idea to enter B in a Batman look alike contest. Sent in his photo and everything.” Jason says with a snort. Marinette’s jaw drops.
“Wait, really?” She asks. He nods. 
“Yup. But that’s not the best part.” He says. Her eyebrows furrowed together. What could possibly be better- Oh. No, oh my-
“He lost, didn’t he!” She cheers, laughing at Jason’s huge smile. 
“Of course he did! You didn’t really think Brucie Wayne could ever be THE Batman, did you?” He asks with a smirk. 
“Who entered him?” Marinette asks, kind of assuming that Jason did it with Tim’s computer. 
“No one could ever prove anything, but Lucius Fox couldn’t stop smiling for weeks after it happened.” Jason says. 
“No way, Lucius Fox? Oh my god!” She starts laughing again, the negative feelings from earlier almost completely gone. Disappeared. Times like these, she was beyond relieved that she wasn’t an only child anymore. She doesn’t know how she’d ever function again without her brothers and Cass. 
---
Bruce takes a deep breath before knocking on Marinette’s door. He’d spent some time talking to Clark in an attempt to calm down. He still couldn’t believe his two youngest children had gone to the Watchtower without permission...well, he could believe that Damian went. But not Marinette. And then there was her attitude towards him at the Tower. Her posture was very Damian, but her words and tone were very much Jason. He couldn’t decide if he was glad that they were bonding, or frustrated with the way his sons were corrupting his daughter. Not hearing an answer on the other side of the door, he knocks again. 
“If?” He says. Alfred nods. 
“Marinette, I know you’re angry, but shutting yourself away in your room is not the answer. I’ll give you ten more minutes, but then we need to talk about your behavior today.” He says, nodding to himself. That sounded good. That was right, right?
“I’m certain that wouldn’t work on Miss Marinette even if she was in her room, Master Bruce.” Alfred says, giving him an unimpressed look. Bruce’s eye twitches. 
“Indeed, sir. It seems that Miss Marinette will not be sleeping at the manor tonight.” He says, turning to walk away. 
“And I’m assuming you know where she is?” Bruce says, doubting that Alfred will actually give up her location. He’d definitely been picking the kids’ side the last two weeks or so. It was different, and he wasn’t fond of the change. 
“Of course I do, sir.” Alfred says, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge. 
“Will you tell me where she is?” He asks, trying hard not to huff when Alfred shakes his head. 
“Of course not, sir.” He says before walking away. Right. So she wasn’t sleeping at the manor, but she was safe. If she wasn’t, Alfred would have told him where she was. He mentally runs through a list of possible places she could be. Dick’s apartment, one of Jason’s safe houses, the Siren’s apartment, Paris- He pales as he realizes that she could definitely be in Paris. Was she really so upset that she would go back to Paris? Would she ever come back if she left? He lets out an uneven breath. He messed up. He messed up and now she was going to go back to Paris and she’d never talk to him again. Unless- maybe she didn’t. Swallowing the guilt that appears at the thought, he pushes her door open. If she had left for Paris, she would’ve taken everything with her. The sight of her clothes and sewing supplies still scattered around the room makes him breathe a sigh of relief. She hadn’t left Not yet. He’s about to walk out when an envelope on her bed catches his eye. Frowning, he walks over and picks it up, ‘Dad’ written on it in neat cursive. Now standing by her bed, he realizes there’s also a neatly wrapped package (Batman wrapping paper) on it. He smiles, then glances back at the envelope. He opens it, smiling at the art on the cardstock. It was clearly Marinette’s art, but he was confused why it was addressed to him. 
‘Dad, I just wanted to let you know that I’m so happy you’re my Dad, and I’m so glad that I got to meet you. Finding out that I was adopted was a little scary, but you’ve made sure I’ve been okay through it all. Happy Father’s Day! Love, Marinette’
Bruce blinks. She was scared. If he had to guess, she was most likely scared that the family wouldn’t accept her. They’d been getting along so well, until the Gala mistake. Until he’d decided for her. Assumed she wouldn’t want to go to the Gala. And now she didn’t even want to stay at the manor tonight, and she was angry enough earlier to throw a chair at him. He pushes a hand through his hair, cursing lowly under his breath. He had to fix this. 
---
A sharp pounding at the door makes Jason leap off the couch. He holds up a finger and gestures for Marinette to hide. No one should be here. No one else knows which of his safe houses he was at today. Grabbing a gun, he walks over, glancing through the peephole. He scoffs. 
“Get the fuck outta here Bruce.” He calls through the door, watching Marinette as she immediately tenses as if she’s gonna run. He shakes his head at her. She didn’t have to run, he sure as hell wouldn’t open the door if she didn’t want him to. 
“Jason, open the door. I need to talk to Marinette.” Bruce calls, Jason snorts. 
“Yeah, not gonna happen B.” He says. 
“I would like to apologize to her.” Bruce says. Jason blinks. That’s new. Did the old man finally figure out that fuck ups warrant apologies? He glances over at Marinette, raising an eyebrow. It was her call. The unsure look on her face almost makes him decide for her. Almost. The kid’d had enough of people deciding shit for her. 
“Let him in.” She says. He opens the door, glaring at the man. 
“Is it okay if he comes in?” She whispers, and Jason nods.
“Up to you kiddo.” He whispers back. She stands taller, pushing her shoulders back before nodding. 
“She’s the one who let you in. Don’t fuck this up.” He warns before stepping aside and letting Bruce walk in.
“Marinette.” He says, nodding at her. Jason groans. Yeah, B was totally gonna fuck this up. 
“Father.” She says, shifting so that her arms are crossed, a neutral expression on her face. God, he really hopes her mimicking Demon Spawn is just a phase. 
“I would like to preface this conversation by letting you know I went into your room.” Bruce says. Marinette just raises an eyebrow. Yeah, Jason wasn’t seeing the connection either. “I apologize for invading your privacy like that, Damian has definitely reminded me several times that your personal rooms are not to be messed with. However, when Alfred let me know you weren’t sleeping at the manor tonight, I was worried that perhaps you had gone back to Paris.” 
“I wouldn’t have gone back without telling you. Well, other than akuma attacks. Do you really think I’d do something like that?” She asks, frowning. 
“I know that I’ve done things I’m not proud of when hurt. Things that I came to regret. And I saw earlier today how hurt you actually are. I didn’t realize-” He pauses. “I also read the card that was on your bed.”
“What! No, that was- that was for Father’s Day.” She says with a sigh. 
“I didn’t open the gift. I originally thought the envelope would have a note from you on where you had gone. Or that you never wanted to see me again. I thought the chances were pretty even.” He says and Jason snorts. 
“Oh, okay. Wait, why would you ever think that? Yes, I was hurt. I still am hurt, if I’m being honest. But I don’t want to cut you out of my life.” She says, shaking her head. 
“Nor do I want you out of ours.” Bruce says. Marinette blinks. “I realize now what it must have looked like, to you. Not informing you about the Gala, taking the rest of the family. It was, admittedly, not my best moment. I made a decision for you when I should’ve asked you what you wanted. You could have even come with us as MDC, but I took that option away from you. I am very sorry, Marinette. I am glad that you’re my daughter, sweetheart.” He says and Jason blinks. Well shit. The old man did have feelings. Too bad no one would ever believe him if he tried to say something about it. He watches as the tension in Marinette’s body drops almost instantly before she runs over and launches herself at Bruce. She wraps her arms around him and Jason can see the way her body shakes. Bruce just stands there, staring down at the top of her head in shock. 
“You wrap your arms around her.” Jason snarks. Bruce blinks before listening, returning Marinette’s hug. Well, they were still dysfunctional as hell, but at least now he’d be able to take Pixie Pop to the manor without feeling like an asshole brother. 
---
Marinette bounces nervously in her seat as she watches her brothers hand her dad presents. She’s shocked when Jason hands over a small gift, knowing that the two’s relationship wasn’t….great. She leans forward in anticipation, watching and waiting to see what he’d picked out. 
“Thank you, Jason. Clark will never let me live this down.” Her dad says, the fondness in his tone not matching the frown on his face. He turns the box around and the room erupts in laughter. Somehow, Jason had found a company that made customizable bobbleheads. The body was probably just a stock body, dressed in civilian clothes with a superman suit peaking through the shirt. And the head, the head was hilarious. It was very obviously crafted to look like their dad, specifically with his ‘Brucie Wayne’ smile. It was awful and amazing at the same time. 
“I think Jaybird wins best gift.” Dick says with a grin. 
“Tt. Unlikely. The new katana that Cass and I gave him is obviously superior.” Damian says, crossing his arms. 
“I don’t know Damian, I still haven’t given him my present.” She points out, grinning at the slight frown on Damian’s face. 
“While I doubt your present could be better than mine, there is no doubt it will be better received than Todd’s.” Damian says. Marinette snorts at the look on Jason’s face. 
“Listen Demon Spawn, there’s this thing called humor. That’s what my gift had. I know you wouldn’t know anything about humor, so let me explain it to you.” He starts, and Marinette jumps in to cut him off before they can start arguing. It was Father’s Day, the least they could do is avoid fighting with each other for a couple more hours. 
“And this one’s from me.” She says, passing him the present wrapped in Batman wrapping paper. She grins as Tim and Dick both laugh, not having seen it before now. 
“I think Mari might win just ‘cause of the paper.” Tim admits, taking a large drink of his iced coffee that Marinette had picked up for him. She’d had to fight an akuma right before they started presents, so she’d stopped and got Tim coffee from the shop that he’d tried when they’d all been in Paris. She watches in anticipation as her dad carefully unwraps the box, opening it and pulling out the black suit jacket. He smiles at her. 
“Did you make this? It’s amazing.” He says, and her brothers nod in agreement (though Damian does so reluctantly). 
“Look at the inside of it.” She says, gesturing for him to unfold it. His eyebrow twitches, but he does as she says. She watches his face for the moment he spots it, and grins when his face drops into a wide smile. On the inside of the left side of the jacket, she’d added a breast pocket. It wasn’t really for anything though. Instead, it was so that she could embroider all of his children’s names in a way so that it would rest above his heart. The jacket also had tiny bat logos embroidered at the cuffs of the jacket. The thread was shiny and very dark so that it would barely show up against the black of the jacket. It had to be lit just right to see it, but as he tilted the jacket again, she knew he saw it. It had taken longer than suit jackets normally do for her, but it was because she knew that it had to be perfect. It was, after all, the first piece of clothing she’d made for her dad. 
“It’s perfect, Marinette.” He says softly, running a hand over the names. She lets out a sigh of relief before smiling at him. Things were still a little rough, but they were so much better than they’d been the night of the Gala. She was glad that she had stayed, that she hadn’t ran like she had so badly wanted to.
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xreaderbooks · 3 years
Text
Part of us
 Request: Could I request a Sirius x reader where the reader is maybe a year younger and his or regulus childhood best friend and she gets sorted to gryffindor so she becomes a target for bullies so Sirius and the marauders takes her under their wing....a few years later she gets hurt and Sirius gets super protective and confess his feelings....angst and fluff??
Pair: Sirius Black x reader, Platonic! Marauders x reader, Platonic! Regulus Black x reader
Word count: 4.2k
Warnings: Language
A/N: So this is my first request... I don’t know if I did what you imagined justice but this is what I came up with and I really hope you enjoy. 
Masterlist 
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When you were placed into Gryffindor you thought it was a mistake. There was no way with your long line of Slytherin pureblood, that you'd be a Gryffindor. Not that you thought there was anything wrong with that. You never cared to live up to people's expectations or what people thought of you, even though your parents did. And despite your family's attempts at making you see their way, you never could. There was no superior bloodline, you were all equal. But you played your part so you wouldn't hear the lectures or deal with all the drama. You didn't partake in the bullying or the maltreatment of muggle-borns or half-bloods like every other pureblood; you didn't see the need. You kind of just stood by or left whenever your friends would tantalize others.
However, when you got sorted you weren't the silent one while others bullied and tortured others who weren't deemed worthy in the eyes; you were the one getting bullied. The first few years you wanted to fight back but eventually, there were too many for you to handle. So you just dealt with it. At the parties that the pureblood families had thrown-- which your family was invited to-- your parents had advised you to try to blend in and not draw attention to yourself. For the most part, you did.
Regulus, your best friend tried to get you out of your shell. You tried to convince him that it wasn't you but your parents. You would've love to enjoy yourself at the parties, being dressed up and all that. But with your situation, you couldn't afford to make a fool out of yourself, and drinking firewhiskey in different rooms or sneaking off to where your parents couldn't keep an eye on you, wasn't a good idea. When you and Regulus were older your parents had set an arranged marriage between you two. Uniting rich and powerful families and all that. But You and Regulus were just the best of friends, always together. And just like everything else, that had to change. You now had to find ways to see each other in hidden places. Never to be seen together in front of students or staff in case it would get back to your parents. In Hogwarts you ignored each other, magically passing notes to update each other on your well-being. It was tough but you managed. Regulus was your only friend after all.
~~~
It was just another day at Hogwarts, You were avoiding Bellatrix Lestrange. Your main terrorizer. She had a group of Slytherins trailing her. Ever since you got sorted into Gryffindor every pureblood who was in Slytherin, taunted and teased you to no end. They jinxed you and called you weak. Saying things about how you weren't one of them. You knew that much but you didn't need the constant reminder.
Bellatrix and her group were right behind you as you were walking to the Gryffindor common room. You cursed in your mind, they saw you.
"Going somewhere L/N?" You ignored her. "You know it's rude to not answer your superiors."
"I'm not trying to bother anyone Bellatrix." You sighed but kept walking.
"Your presence alone bothers me." She sent a spell your way to catch your attention.
"Are you crazy?" You turned to face her, Your voice raising a bit. An amused smile played on her lips, she tilted her head to the side.
"You have no idea what crazy looks like Y/N/N." She stalked towards you in a predatory way.
"We grew up together Bellatrix," You slowly backed away from her so as to not set her off. "Name-calling and pranks are one thing but curses..."
You didn't know what you did to cause the special attention that others like first years or Muggle-borns got from Bellatrix. Sure you were never that close, you always got along better with Andromeda than Narcissa and the former, but never would you have thought that you'd be on the receiving end of her fury over blood status. This was outrageous you thought to yourself. How could anyone be this upset over what house people are in?
"Don't worry, after a while, they won't hurt." Your blood started to rush through your veins and a shiver ran down your spine. You stopped walking backward when you bumped into something behind you. A pair of arms held you to keep you steady. You turned around expecting another one of Bellatrix's "friends" only to be met with a tall, shaggy-haired boy.
Sirius Black, your best friend's older brother, who just so happened to be in your house. Relief washed over you. You were no longer outnumbered. Sirius and his group of Marauders were there. Surely they wouldn't just walk away from a fellow Gryffindor in trouble. Of course you never really had an affiliation with them besides the same color robes but they were good people, weren't they?
"We heard something about pranks?" James spoke.
Bellatrix scoffed, "This is none of your business Potter."
"Well Bellatrix considering how Y/N is a member of our house, it does make this our business," Remus replied. She cackled, "How fitting the two blood-traitors in one pitiful little group." She signaled the others to follow her and walked away.
"Are you alright?" Sirius asked, not letting go of your shoulders.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"C'mon we were just going back to the common room." He let go of your shoulders but tugged on the sleeve of your robe to follow them.
"What did you do to cause the wrath of crazy over there?" James questioned. He led the way to the common room, you kept your distance not really trusting any of them. Their reputation for being the school's signature pranksters didn't ease your mind as you walked with them. You never held a conversation with any of them before today, maybe a few with Remus but he was the only sane one out of all of them, it made sense that you were wary of their presence. Who knows what they had planned.
"Does anyone have to do anything at all to provoke her?" Sirius snorted, you gave him a questioning look and he just shrugged.
"No, I suppose not."
"Well Y/N I guess you could call yourself lucky your knight in shining armors were there to save the day." James' cocky smile written on his face assuming he was right.
"Although I appreciate the help, I could've handled myself." You stepped into the portrait hole, anxious to get back into your dorm room and take a nap.
"Not against all of them, you know sometimes you need to run in a pack L/N, you could get killed without one."
"You make it sound like we're wolves," you stated, each attempt to get back to your room was failed by every comment James made. What was his point?
"Some of us aren't," Sirius commented. You noticed Remus got tense and slightly shook his head.
"Point is Bellatrix and her groupies aren't going to quit bothering you and we want to help." James offered.
"What's the catch?"
"Why does there have to be catch? We want to be your friends." Sirius answered and plopped down on the chair across from the couch where you were sitting. You gave him a dead look. "Just think about it, hm?"
"Whatever." You got up from your seat and went to your dorm to take your well-needed nap.
Later that night you went down to the common room to read by the fire until you fell asleep. You felt like you'd only closed your eyes for 2 seconds when you were rudely awakened by Sirius.
"What?" You hissed. His mischievous grin made you want to slap him.
"You're coming with me." He took the blanket that you had wrapped around you, off.
"No." You said simply, reaching for the blanket again. Just as your eyes were beginning to close again you heard him say, "Yes."
He lifted you in his arms and you dramatically fell limp. "What the hell." You groaned loudly.
"Shh you're going to people up," You glared at him.
"Maybe they should wake up since I'm being kidnapped!" He rolled his eyes. You jumped from his arms so you could stand on your own.
"Where are we going?" You asked, Slowly recovering from being awoken.
"You'll see." That was all he responded as he continued to guide you out of the portrait hole and through the halls. You were anxious, in all the years of Hogwarts you never went out past curfew so you didn't know the chances of being caught and getting in trouble.
"Sirius, Filch may be out here." You warned.
"We'll be fine Y/N/N just trust me."
"I don't trust you that's my problem." You muttered. He turned around and looked at you. His piercing grey eyes shining in the darkness. He pulled out a long cloak from who knows where and wrapped it around the both of you, causing you to be closer together.
"This will keep us hidden so Filch won't catch us." The weight in your chest lifted and now replaced by butterflies. You inhaled sharply at the close proximity.
"You alright?"
You nodded, which gave him the confirmation he needed to continue, "Let's go."
When you made it to your destination you gasped. The astronomy tower, "Wow" you whispered, shedding yourself from the cloak. The night sky hadn't looked as beautiful as it did at that very moment. You've been here for class but you've never seen the stars so bright, you wondered what special cosmic event it must've been for the night sky to look the way it did.
You whipped around remembering who you were here with, you crossed your arms, "Why did you bring me here?"
"I can't take you sight-seeing now?"
"I had this class yesterday, this is hardly what I'd call sight-seeing." You arched a brow upwards. "Besides we're not exactly friends..." He gasped and feigned hurt by putting a hand over his heart.
"After all we've been through?" You rolled your eyes. He continued, "I was hoping we could change that. The boys and I have noticed you've been struggling socially and don't really play well with others, but I've seen the way you interacted with my brother before Hogwarts and you enjoy the company. I had to wonder why is it that you don't have that many friends?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but since I got sorted into Gryffindor my old "friends" and family haven't been that accepting considering the fact that they're all Slytherins, I mean you should know how it is." You sighed and took a seat resting your back against a wall facing the night sky. "The people I used to get along with, well, their parents don't want them to spend time with me. As for not having friends in our house, nobody has tried to get to know me, they just assume I'm like the other Slytherins even though I was placed here for a reason." You scoffed, people truly were ridiculous. "It sucks cause every side thinks I've chosen to be apart of what they go against when in reality I'm not apart of anything."
He stared at you, you then realized that you went on a full-on rant and nervously looked down, picking at your nails. He'd been silent the entire time listening. It was nice, "You could be apart of us."
You were skeptical, "Sirius this isn't funny." You moved to get up.
"It's not a joke Y/N." He chuckled.
"You're not being very convincing right now."
"Why would I lie to you?"
"We've barely spoken to each other in all these years of Hogwarts, even before Hogwarts!" you threw your hands in the hair. "I went over your house for playdates with Reg and never had one conversation. You and your friends have a reputation for pranks, How do I know this isn't one of them?"
"Because I'm not trying to prank you Y/n, in fact, I'm trying to help you. We all are." He put his hands on your shoulders to get you to look at him. "I know how it feels to be all alone in a world like that. To be in an environment where you feel uncomfortable with those people. Knowing all the wrong things they say and not being able to say anything because they'll disown you."
"The difference between you and me is that you got out." You shoved his hands off your shoulders. "Not all of us have a James."
"Y/n-"
"I'll think about it." With that, you left, not caring if you were to get caught.
If you were being honest the reason why you didn't want to be friends with the marauders was that they had 3 years to be friends with you, you knew Sirius from years prior. Why didn't he come to you sooner? Knowing you had been friends with his little brother. He just sat there and watched while you spent the first 3 and a half years of what should've been the most fun years of your life at Hogwarts, lonely and sad. If his defense was that he could sympathize with your situation and that he wanted to help; why didn't he approach you sooner? Also, you might've been a little bitter about him having a place to go to while you still had to stay with your parents.
~~~
You did think about after that Night with Sirius, you decided you give them a chance. You wouldn't be cornered alone anymore or hopefully cornered at all. You would have a group now. You also thought it was great that you had someone you could relate to in the group and someone that you somewhat knew. You never thought that you'd be actual friends with your childhood crush, even if that was your best friend's older brother and you'd spend more time in his house than your own most days; but here you were.
Being a part of the Marauders was fun, you were practically family now. They let you in on their little secret; with Remus' permission of course. They informed you of his full moon situation. They offered to help you become an animagus, which you denied, you didn't want to deal with all of that. You helped James with Lily, it wasn't easy but it worked somehow. You would help them with their pranks. They pulled pranks on the people who used to bully you all the time which you appreciated greatly. It was nice knowing they had your back and they knew you had theirs.
Nobody messed with you now and you gained a few more friends now. Lily, Alice, Dorcas, and Mary. It was all great. Except for your growing crush on a certain Marauder. With every moment you spent with him your heart swelled, it wasn't a great idea to get involved with him in that way. You were his brothers best friend, he'd seen you grow up, and took you under his wing when you were in need (you always thought even if he truly wanted to be your friend, it was a sort of favor for Regulus since he couldn't be there) there was no way he would be interested in you. But you had always hoped.
You remembered one Christmas that your parents had forced you to go to a party that the Malfoys would throw annually. It was terrible. You didn't have your friends there with you and Regulus couldn't talk to you with his parents watching. The blacks were suspicious of you spending more time with their son, who they disowned and like every other parent at that party, they didn't want Regulus to associate with you. So you were alone again. The only perk of this entire thing was you didn't have to completely show your face since it was a masquerade ball theme.
Evan Rosier came up to you, your eyes narrowed and you tilted your head in question. "Shame you spend your time with those blood traitors Y/N, I would have asked you out."
"I think I lucked out on that one Rosier." You took a sip from your drink shifting your gaze to somewhere else.
"You filthy little-"
"Careful what your next words are, my friend, I don't think Mummy and Daddy would appreciate it much." A voice that came from behind you said.
"You are not even supposed to be here, Black."
"Sirius!" You threw your arms around his neck, he wrapped his around your waist. You heard Evan scoff and leave.
"Y/N darling, have I told you that you attract way too much trouble."
"No, but I'm starting to think you're right." You pulled away from him, realizing that you were in the eyesight of your parents. "What are you doing here? Your parents will kill you if they see you here."
"I couldn't let you come here alone, with all these people." He looked around with distaste.
"Alright well, we have to find a more private place so you won't get caught." You grabbed his hand in yours and led the way to the maze garden.
"Y/N if you wanted to get into my pants, all you had to do was ask." He wiggled his eyebrows, You shoved him away. "Gross."
"Okay so I didn't tell you this but James and I are breaking you out of here."
"How the hell are you planning on doing that?"
"Easy, a distraction." You were about to ask what the distraction was when you saw a stag through the windows. Screams of the people were coming from the inside. You put a hand over your mouth to cover your smile. You did not expect that at all. Sirius retook your hand and pulled you deeper into the maze when the guests were filing out.
You stopped when you were finally in the middle, there was an enchanted fountain spewing water. you had a rush of energy and laughed. Sirius was looking down at you.
"Where'd James go?"
"He should be coming soon." He replied. It was quiet for a while before Sirius scooped up water from the fountain and threw it at you. You gasped, "You asshole!"
You dipped your hand in the water and flicked it at him. This started a war between the two of you. You ducked behind the fountain and threw water at him whenever you got the chance and he did the same. It wasn't until you heard footsteps coming that you stopped.
"Y/N?" You remembered that voice, you whipped around quickly and almost fell into the water if it wasn't for Sirius who had put a hand on your back to catch you.
"Reg?" He ran to you and wrapped his arms around you, picking you up and twirling you around. Once he put you down he pulled you away at arm's length to observe you.
"You're wet." He stated, confused.
"Water fight." you smile into the response. He laughed and threw his head back.
"Only you." Sirius coughed, you almost forgot he was there.
"Hello, brother." Regulus nodded to him. "It's been a while, I've missed you."
"Have you?" You gave Sirius a look, now was not the time. This was the first time you've seen Regulus in months, years even. You didn't need them to argue.
"We should talk." He suggested, You agreed and strolled along the maze with Regulus, noticing that the guests have all returned inside.  
"So you escaped your parents." You started talking.
"So I did." he glanced at you. "But only for a bit, they'll start to wonder where I've gone. I just needed to see you."
"Yeah me too."
"I just wanted to let you know that I can't write to you anymore." Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Why not?"
"It's not safe."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Just know things are about to get serious and dangerous and I have to do things that I know you won't agree with to keep you safe."
"Reg, I-I don't know what you're saying."
"Soon enough you will." He stopped walking. "I needed you to know before I cut ties with you, that I love you. You're my best friend and I never want you to get hurt." You felt the tears forming.
"I love you too." He caresses your cheek and kisses them both before saying his final Goodbye. You were left standing there trying to decipher his words.
Eventually, you found yourself back where you and Sirius were playing with water. He was sitting on the edge of the fountain. He stood up when he saw you and your tearstained cheeks. He wrapped you in a hug.
"I'm glad you came." You whispered, hugging him back. He kissed the top of your head and told you that it was time to go. You went to James' house, you spent Christmas and summers there from then on. You never returned home. You slept in the guest bedroom and Sirius stayed with James in his room. Your parents sent you a letter telling you that you were no longer welcome at their house since you chose to associate yourself with bad company that was ruining their reputation. You didn't care much about it, knowing you had a better family now.
It wasn't until you graduated from Hogwarts that you figured out what Regulus was talking about. The war was getting more serious, Lily and James had to go into hiding, you and Sirius had joined the order, you became partners on missions, your bond growing more and more every day.
~~~
"There's too many of them Y/N we need to go back to headquarters!" Sirius yelled over the sounds of fighting. This was supposed to be a quick mission to find out where Voldemort was going to attack next. Hopefully saving a family and your best friends. But as always nothing went according to plan, you didn't drink enough poly juice potion that let you take the face of a death eater that you and Sirius had captured. You didn't bring the flask with you so in the middle of asking questions you transformed back into your true form, which then brought on the fighting.
"No! You go and get the others," A curse was sent your way, you blocked it. "I can fight them off in the meantime!"
"There's no way I'm leaving you with all of these death eaters!"
"Well I'm not going, we just need to catch one and get the information we need!" You continued to duel with Evan Rosier who was easily blocking all of your offensive spells. 'Shit' was all you thought. Six against two were not great odds and you were getting tired. Sirius made a point of retreating. If you were to leave now, you lost the element of surprise and they would be expecting you next time. That or they would retaliate. Great just great, all because you forgot to bring extra poly juice potion.
"Now is not the time to play hero, we can try another day." He took your hand and apparated you to a random alley in another part of London, but not before you were struck with a stinging spell.
"Fuck-" Tears stung in your eyes, Sirius was rushing towards you screaming your name.
The next thing you know you were waking up in a bright room. You assumed you were at St. Mungos. Memories of the moments before you were brought her played in your head. You slowly opened your eyes you turned your head to the sound of snoring. Sirius was sitting in a chair beside your bed. Despite feeling like shit you decided to throw a pillow at his head to wake him up. He sat up quickly, eyes wide staring at you.
"What the fuck?"
"Even when you're asleep you are annoying."
"I'm sorry I was up all night taking care of your dumb-ass."
"Apology accepted." You broke into a smile when you saw his face. He was so...serious. You could never let go of that joke.
"I'm not joking around, you were bad like so bad I thought I lost you."
"Siri-" You sat up in your bed.
"No Y/N I don't think you understand how serious this situation was. You had seizures and might've slipped into a coma. You've been in and out for days now." Your smile faded. "I-I thought I was going to lose you and I can't, not you." He shook his head, running a hand through his hair.
"Sirius, we all get injured, it happens. It's apart of the job."
"Yes but you're different."
"How? How is it any different than if this were to happen to Remus or James or any of the others?"
"Because I love you!" You tried to process his words. He searched your eyes for any response but you were in shock. He spoke softly, "It's different from the others because I am in love with you. I have been for a while.
"You don't have to say it back, you probably don't-" You grabbed him by the collar of his leather jacket and kissed him.
"You're an idiot." You kiss him once more and looked him in the eyes and said "I'm in love with you too."
Tags: @divergirl99
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hardlyinteresting · 3 years
Text
Risks Worth Taking 2/2
This is the second half, part 2/2 of the story, thank you to everyone who has read it! Professor!Zemo x Student reader Part 1 here The reader takes Zemo’s philosophy class focusing on Machiavelli. Posted in 2 parts because it exceeded the textbox limit. Apx 3k words.
Warnings: student-teacher relationship (the reader is of age, no real focus on power imbalance), implied age gap, consumption of alcohol, implication that the reader is sleeping with Zemo for better grades (she's not) and of course let me know if you want me to add anything else!!
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Week five, he is not shocked to find she’s once again the first one in class. “Good evening,” he greets warmly, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck as he makes his way to his desk. She smiles back, “I left my paper on your desk there, I figured I’d get the pile started”. He laughs setting down his coat and bag, “Something tells me there will be few submissions for this class”.
He’s right. Less than half the class bothers to show up. Most of her peers seem to be getting a head start on winter break, at least the class is quiet she thinks content listening to Helmut summarize the most recently assigned chapters, providing historical context where needed.
“Enjoy your break Helmut,” she says softly as he shuts the lecture hall door.
“You as well. Do you have plans?” She shakes her head, “No, just reading”. He smiles, “Then I am sure it will be a good break indeed”.
The cafe is warm and cosy. She settles comfortably into her favourite booth with her favourite book and a second cup of tea.
The bell at the front door dings as a man enters in a long black coat and leather gloves. Fancy she thinks to herself as he approaches the counter to order. It's usually other students dressed in sweatpants and hoodies, the man’s put together dress piques her interest. He orders and then she watches over the top of her book as he drops a $10 bill into the barista’s tip jar. Oh, well dressed and exceedingly well mannered. She can't help but watch him as he waits. Removing his gloves he tucks them into his pockets and unbuttons his coat, she swears she can smell his cologne from where she sits; it's incredible!
“Cherry blossom tea for Helmut?” The barista calls sliding the cup across the counter.
Helmut? It isn't. Is it? He turns after saying a polite thank you, and she can feel her heart hammering as he turns and she sees his face. It is. She's not sure why she's shocked, she did tell him about this place after all. Do I say something? She wonders, weighing the pros and cons, but her thoughts are halted when she hears his voice,
“Hello,” he smiles softly, “I didn't expect you to be here--I know you pointed this place out, but I wasn't--”
He's worried he's intruding. Oh, how the tables have turned.
“No, no. It's okay! I don't own the place-- did you want to sit? You don't have to--”
He chuckles as her nerves get the best of her.
Silently he sets down his cup shrugging out of his coat, putting it over the back of the chair before sitting down.
“What are you reading?” He smiles, trying to peak at the cover.
Again, after their initial stiffness, the conversation flows smoothly, just like it had in his office. After several warm drinks, and a couple croissants ordered between the two of them it’s grown dark outside. Neither had noticed the cafe empty out slowly over the hours, the barista cleaning up for the night until she clears her throat from behind the counter. They both turn to look at her, finally noticing how quiet the shop is.
“Sorry, we’re closing now,” the barista smiles sweetly. “Not a problem. I apologise, we lost track of time. We’ll get out of your way,” Helmut apologizes. The pair collect their things sliding back into their coats and gloves. Helmut waits patiently for her to be ready to go his hand resting gently at the small of her back as she slips out of the booth and past him.
Helmut stops and puts another bill in the girl’s tip jar.
“Sorry for keeping you,” he apologises again.
Outside the winter wind is cold against their faces.
“Are you hungry?” Helmut asks.
“I could eat,” She responds. “Ever been there?” Helmut asks pointing to the pub across the street. “I don’t know if it’s your speed. It’s not super nice or anything, but their food is decent,” she says honestly. He laughs, “‘Decent’ is better than what I can make at home by myself”.
She bites her lip thinking about it, does he want to spend more time with me?
“Okay,” she smiles as they make their way across the street.
Settled at a table, they wait for their server, she asks, “Was that a fifty dollar bill I saw you put in that tip jar?”
He shrugs, “Yes”.
He says that as if it’s normal, she thinks.
“I know you’re not from here, but you do know that’s a lot of money right?” “Yes,” he shrugs again, “But she made excellent tea all afternoon, she let us stay as late as she could and she was polite. And I have been here long enough to know that servers of any kind don’t get paid fairly. I can afford it, she deserves it”.
She feels the smile grow across her face, she considers gushing that he’s such a good person, but instead what comes out is, “I’m really starting to consider becoming a professor”.
He laughs, “I told you, it’s family money, not my facility pay”. God, that laugh, sets off butterflies in her stomach, the warm, genuine sound of his laughter.
He continues, “Before Sokovia fell, my family were royalty. I was a Baron there”. “I knew your name sounded familiar,” she sighs, “I remember hearing about Sokovia on the news. I remember your name, you were building orphanages and relief centres”.
He nods sadly, “Many of us thought we could salvage what we had left after everything. We couldn’t”.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, without thinking she reaches across the table to place a comforting hand on his arm. His hand comes to cover hers, so much larger than her own.
There’s a silence between them for one of the first moment since he sat down with her earlier at the cafe. But it’s not uncomfortable, it’s the opposite -- a silence of understanding, both parties knowing there’s nothing they can say to make things better-- they can only ruminate.
The peace is broken by a waiter coming to take their orders. “Do you drink Helmut?” She asks with a mischievous smile. “I have been known to indulge,” he confesses, his eyebrows furrowed. “Two shots of ?” she turns to look at Helmut expectantly. “Vodka,” he replies. “Two shots of vodka, and an order of cheese fries to share please,” she orders, “thank you”.
The waiter returns not before long, placing the drinks and food on the table.
She holds her shot glass up waiting for him to do the same. “Prost,” he says raising his glass towards her. “Cheers,” she responds clinking her glass into his before they both tip them back.
And that’s how their night begins.
It’s nearing midnight when they settle their bill, Helmut insisting he pay-- though she put up a good fight. “Can I walk you home?” He asks looking at her under the light of the street lamps. She nods, her face feeling warm both from his attention and the alcohol coursing through her bloodstream. Her apartment is only three blocks away, but time seems to slow down as they walk arm in arm through the freshly fallen snow. At her door they stop, she looks up at him, him down at her. Without a thought, lips meet. It’s not rough or particularly sexy, but she feels her knees go weak when his hand comes to cup her cheek, his other splayed across the small of her back pulling her closer. This kiss deepens and she clutches the lapel of his wool coat before they both pull away. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Don’t be,” she sighs.
Then the thought hits her, “How are you getting home?” “Oh-- I was going to get a cab and go back to the cafe to pick up my car in the morning,” he explains. “Nonsense-- you can stay here,” she offers unlocking her door and stepping inside, he doesn’t follow. “Not in my bed,” she laughs flicking on the light, “I’ll set you up on the couch”. He steps inside.
In the morning he wakes to the sun shining through the window. It takes him a minute to orient himself remembering he crashed on her couch. He sits up taking a moment to look around the apartment, it’s cute. Books and textbooks and notebooks strewn about the place. It’s homey and inviting and every bit what he’d expect her space to look like. Carefully he grabs one of the open notebooks tearing out a page he writes a quick note:
Good morning, I find that I feel very sorry for having to leave before you wake. Alas, I have much to get done, and I do not wish to trespass in your home longer than needed. I am grateful for your hospitality, and even more, your company. If my memory serves correctly I must also apologise for making that advance towards you last night. It was ungentlemanly, and you are unquestionably deserving of much better. I hope you can forgive me, and that you might allow me to make it up to you. -Helmut
Week six.
“He should appear to be compassionate, faithful to his word, guileless, and devout.” Is written across the board. When she settles into her seat. She’s not early this week, rather just on time. Helmut notes the heavy rise and fall of her chest as she tries to catch her breath, he holds back a smile at the thought of her sprinting to his class. When the class is settled, he proceeds to hand back all of the submitted essays, now marked. He smiles as he sets hers on her desk, “Bravo,” he says quietly enough that just she hears it as he shuffles along to the next row of students. She anxiously flips to the last page, red pen scrawl reads 100%. Her jaw drops. There’s no way. She thinks back to the rumours she heard on campus at the beginning of the year, about how difficult a marker he is. Bullshit. Her blood boils, rage sizzling beneath her skin. She avoids his eyes for the rest of class staring down at her notebook as she notices the indents in the blank page-- indents left from where he had written her a note that morning. Her anger freezes replaced by the cold sinking feeling in her chest. All his kind words, all those moments shared-- did he really think she was just spending time with him for a better grade? What kind of handout does he expect to get from her? She scolds herself now for the little crush she’d developed-- how stupid could she be? The prince must appear to be virtuous in order to hide his actions, She remembers from her reading, a dagger to her chest as she thinks bitterly that she’s not shocked that the professor is practising what he preaches.
The class ends and he moves to collect his paperwork, sorting it back into his bag. She stays. “I’m glad you stayed behind,” he starts. “I’m sure you are,” she says sharply. Confused he puts his things down turning to face her. “Have I done something to upset you?” He asks seriously his head tilted to the side as he racks his brain for anything he may have done to make her so cross. Perhaps his note was not sufficient in conveying his apology? “Do you think I’m stupid? Or that I’m naive?” she asks arms crossed, “I’m not sleeping with you for a good grade,” she states firmly, sliding her essay back across her desk, “feel free to adjust my grade accordingly”. Is that what she thinks? His mouth goes dry, his mind and heart racing with all the different ways he wants to apologise, to tell her that she has it wrong. He approaches her, finally making eye contact with her, “Your grade will stay as it is. I mark all of my student’s work without looking at the cover pages. I have always strived to remain impartial. Your essay was marked no differently,” He explains calmly, “I would be wrong to say that I don’t hold any affections for you-- it is quite the opposite. I enjoy the time we have spent together, and I would like to continue to remain in your company; I hope to eventually find myself in your affections-- but none of this has any bearing on your grade. I am sorry that I have acted in a way where this was not clear”. Her throat clenches, oh. “I’m sorry--Oh my god--I’m so stupid!” her hand flies to cover her mouth. “You have nothing to apologise for-- I should be the one apologising,” he insists. She shakes her head standing to stand in front of him, “We’ve both been obtuse”. “I’d like to make it up to you. I’d like to take you out for dinner-- a proper meal. If you’ll allow me”. She nods her hand coming to rest on his cheek, thumb running gently across his cheekbone, “I would like that,” she says quietly, her eyes glazing at his lips, “But only after the semester is done and I’ve graduated”. “If that is what you want,” he nods understanding. She can feel him leaning in, her eyes flickering up to his caramel eyes and back down to his lips, his hand rests on her hip, but he waits for her to close the gap between them.
Last day of the school year.
She waits by the door to the lecture hall as he speaks to his class. She listens to the back and forth of conversing ideas from the students, her heart beating faster every time Helmut speaks. It takes a while for everyone to leave when the class is over, but he does his best not to make her wait too long, gathering his things as quickly as possible, he makes his way over to her.
“Maybe I should’ve taken this course, the conversation was much more lively!” She laughs. “Your intelligent thoughts would have been wasted here, my dear” He smiles shutting the door behind him, “your class needed a brilliant mind in it”.
The summer goes by quickly. Fine dining, nights in. reading during rainstorms. Nights of soft romance, followed by nights of passion. Pasts shared. Futures envisioned. In his bed the night before the new school year she rolls over to lay almost on top of him, laughing when he lets out an oof. “Old man she teases,” earning a playful pinch on the thigh from him.
She glances at his nightstand, a copy of The Prince laying there.
“And what are your personal feelings about Machiavelli anyway? You never speak about your own thoughts”
“You're so clever,” he laughs, “but you're right”.
He sighs pulling her closer. he tries to focus on his hand running up and down her arm, how soft her sweater is under his fingertips. He takes a deep breath before speaking, “every time I read it, my opinions change,” he confesses, “there was a time when I was young and stupid; thought I was invincible that I agreed with a lot of his ideals. Then I grew older, fell in love--I thought him stupid and lonely. I experienced an incredible loss--”
She squeezes his side as she hears his voice grow tense with tears, he swallows and continues, “and then I thought I understood him. I learned how to grieve and I thought him intolerable. In the end I learn more about myself than I do him”.
She smiles, “and have you read it lately?”
He nods kissing her softly, “I have”.
“And?”
“I learned to trust my instincts. To take the risks that are worth taking”
“You're kind of a sap,” she laughs, her face getting warm she buries it in his chest. Part 1 here
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IN LIFE, IN DEATH...
PART TEN
:Masterlist:
A/N: And that’s a wrap! Ahh, writing this series has been so fun and I’m so glad that so many of you have liked it so much. Thank you guys for staying until the end and hopefully for upcoming stuff 👀 I hope you enjoy the finale of In Life, In Death... <3
(Also the song mentioned in part six and this part is ‘She Is Love’ by Parachute) <3
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-
December 1994
Luke groaned as he woke up, squinting hard to try and adjust his eyes to the amount of light in the room.
Even before he could see clearly, he knew he must've fallen asleep in the studio judging by the soreness in his back and neck that he always got when he slept on the old couch. It couldn't have been more than six in the morning, and Luke could still feel the tiredness in his bones. So he tried to turn away from the light and hopefully fall back asleep, but there was something keeping him firmly in place.
His heart skipped when he looked down and saw that you were laying right next to him with your head on his chest and an arm thrown across his stomach. When he realized that his own arms were wrapped around you, his heart broke out into a full-on tap dance.
Waves of confusion ran through his still-foggy brain until he saw his guitar case propped up against the piano and his backpack on the floor with his clothes spilling out of it.
Then the events of last night quickly came back to him.
How he had gotten home late from rehearsal and his mom was waiting in the kitchen with his latest report card and her signature lecture at the ready. One minute he was standing there yelling, packing all he could fit into his bag, and the next, he was halfway to the studio with the rain soaking him head to toe.
He had expected it to be empty when he finally got there, but he was flooded with relief when he saw you. All the frustration slowly melted out of him the longer he laid there with you, leaving him feeling exhausted and shivering despite how warm he felt.
The last thing he wanted to do was talk about any of it, but when you asked, the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.
He remembered rambling and crying again, the sound of your voice and the feeling of your fingers in his hair warming him up even more. Then finally, he remembered falling asleep with his chin tucked on top of your head, the smell of your shampoo filling his senses.
Without thinking, Luke reached down and carefully pushed a piece of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear and smiling to himself when you shifted into his touch. Then taking in a sharp breath as the realization ran through him all the way down to his toes.
You were his best friend.
The person he wanted to see at the end of a long day. Whenever he was full of anger or lost in confusion, all he had to do was look at you and everything suddenly made sense again. With your pretty smile and laugh, and your way of flipping that little switch inside him that made his head all fuzzy and the ground start spinning under his feet.
You were his best friend, and he was in love with you.
-
2020
All you felt was a mixture of anxiety and nausea as you stood on the Orpheum's street corner, biting the tips of your fingernails.
The entire plan hinged on Willie and Teddy getting everything done in time, and considering that they had betrayed you all before, you couldn’t help but expect the worst.
“Look, don’t worry. Willie said he’ll get us on that marquee.” Alex said nervously as he kicked pebbles across the sidewalk.
“This is going to work, right?” Reggie asked.
“It has to.” Luke mumbled, wincing seconds later when another shock hit them.
Two sharp pops cut through the air behind you and you all whipped around to see Willie and Teddy standing just a few feet away. Willie was watching you all carefully with concern written all over his face, his eyes lingering on Alex longer than anyone else. Teddy stood at the edge of the group, practically burning a hole in your face with his guilty stare.
“Are you guys okay?” Willie asked.
“Yeah, nothing we haven’t felt before.” Alex laughed awkwardly. “How’d it go?”
“Well, when the opening band wakes up, they’ll find their bus two hundred miles out of Vegas.” Willie said with a proud smile as he did a spin, showing off his stolen jacket with the band’s name across the back.
“With absolutely no chance of getting back in time.” Teddy added.
Luke gave Willie a fistbump and pointed up to the office above the Orpheum. “That means there’s probably a promoter up there freaking out right now.”
Willie grinned, sarcasm laced in his tone. “Nah, man. This is Hollywood. I’m sure he’s being very professional.”
You laughed and then Alex slowly inched forward, clearly struggling for the right words to say to Willie. You gave his arm a quick squeeze before following Reggie and Luke down the street to give them space. Before you even got halfway down the sidewalk, Teddy poofed next to you.
“You know, If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you don’t want to talk to me.” He joked.
“Teddy-”
"I just-I didn't want to leave things the way we did." He rambled. "I'm sorry, I should've told you everything that night in the diner-"
"Teddy, It's okay." You said. "You told me before Caleb could put the stamp on me, and you didn't know the details about the plan until after it was too late to help my friends. Plus, I know how much you're risking helping us now."
As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt some of the weight fall off your shoulders. You weren't sure why since the situation was still a little painful and awkward. But being around Teddy always made you feel a little like that kid who started working at the diner with Cece all those years ago. Besides, they were so alike that you found it hard to stay mad at him.
You held out your hand for Teddy to shake. "Despite everything, I'm glad we met."
“Likewise, Gorgeous,” Teddy said with a relieved smile as he grasped your hand. With a subtle wink, he nodded over towards where Luke was standing at the end of the street. “He’s a lucky guy.”
"What? How did you?-" You sputtered as he stepped away. You never told Teddy about Luke, or at least you didn't think you did.
Teddy just smirked in response before disappearing into the air. At the same time, you saw Willie skate away out of the corner of your eye, leaving Alex alone on the sidewalk.
You all phased next to him and Luke squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You okay, man?"
"Yeah. I'm good." Alex smiled slyly as he gestured to the office. "Looks like this show needs a new opening act though."
You grinned. "Let's go see if we can help with that."
-
When you got back to the studio, you found Julie pacing back and forth in the middle of the room as she wrung her hands together.
When you all poofed in, she immediately jumped into a load of questions, losing her breath halfway through and flailing her arms around.
"Whoa, just sit down," You laughed excitedly. "We'll tell you everything."
Julie took a gasping breath and plopped backwards onto the couch then stared at you all with expectant eyes. "Well?"
"It worked!" You announced. "Everything's fine."
"You should be getting the call...now!" Alex pointed to Julie’s phone on the table just as it started buzzing. You all cheered and Julie shushed you as she answered the call.
You heard a woman's voice say something through the phone and Julie gave a thumbs-up as she started jumping on the couch. You watched in amusement and mild horror as Luke and Reggie lifted Alex up into the air and spun him around.
Once he was back on the ground, Luke and Reggie made a beeline for you, each of them grabbed one of your arms and flipped you upside down over their shoulders.
You all spent the next twenty minutes laughing and screaming and Alex even got a little teary-eyed but you pretended not to notice. Then Julie called Flynn and ran off excitedly to decide her outfit for the night, leaving the four of you alone to plan out the setlist.
“Okay, so I’m thinking we start with Stand Tall.” Luke said excitedly as he wrote the words down in his songbook.
“Sounds good.” Reggie said, suddenly quiet.
“’Sounds good’? Guys, I wanna hear ‘That sounds awesome!” Luke reached out and nudged Reggie’s shoulder. “I know this isn’t the way we imagined any of this. But we need to be all in tonight. This is our second chance to play the Orpheum!”
“I get it.” Reggie sputtered. “But it’s hard. Do we even know what’s on the other side when we cross over? Do we still get to hang out together?”
You shifted your weight as the happy little bubble surrounding you popped. You had been so wrapped up in the excitement of finally playing the Orpheum that you almost forgot what tonight was really about.
“You guys are the only family I have.” Reggie’s eyes were glued to the piano as he played with his fingers. You reached out and locked his arm with yours in an attempt to comfort him.
“I don’t know what’s gonna happen either. But it’s not like we have a choice.” Alex said.
Suddenly, Reggie’s arm fell out of yours as all three boys fell back, clutching their sides.
“I’m pretty sure we do.” Reggie groaned. “And it rhymes with ‘Hollywood Ghost Club’.”
The garage doors creaked open and Julie appeared with a bright smile and a blue garment bag in her hand. When she saw your expressions, her smile fell. “What’s wrong?”
“We just got hit pretty hard by one of those jolts.” Alex said. “But we’re fine.”
“Oh, good.” She nodded, though she still looked on edge. “I’m nervous.”
“That makes two of us.” You said. “But we made it this far for a reason. We got this.”
“Can you ride there with me? I'm gonna need more pep-talk material for the drive there cause I still think I might puke.” Julie tucked her hair behind her ears.
“Of course, and don't worry, we’ll leave the windows open.” You joked, making everyone laugh.
The sound of a car horn cut through the air and Julie looked outside. "That's my dad. Are you ready, (Y/n)?"
You nodded. "Yeah, uh, give me a second. I'll meet you in the car."
As Julie disappeared behind the doors, you turned to the boys and sighed as you tried to soak up this moment. For all you knew, this could be the last little window of time you had alone with them before tonight.
Julie was a huge part of the band of course, but these were your boys. The ones who you started this all with, who had been by your side for everything.
From the look on all their faces, you could see that they were thinking the same thing.
Without saying a word, you launched yourself at Alex. He made a surprised noise but recovered quickly, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight.
"And I'm the emotional one?" He jokingly muttered in your ear and you pinched his side, making him jump back. "Rude."
As soon as your arms were open, Reggie stepped forward and hugged you so tightly that you were thankful to not need oxygen anymore because he was definitely crushing several vital organs.
You laughed and gave him one last squeeze before pulling away, locking eyes with Luke instantly.
Alex cleared his throat awkwardly and grabbed Reggie's shoulder, steering him over to Luke's songbook to 'check out the setlist again'.
"And then there were two." Luke joked.
You laughed and stepped into his waiting arms, making him laugh. You soaked up the feeling of comfort and familiarity for a minute before pulling away.
"This, uh, is for you," Luke said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion as he handed it over. "I wanted you to have it in case...well, you know. If tonight doesn't work."
"It will." You said, trying to ignore the fact that it very well could happen. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Patterson."
"I wouldn't dream of it." He quipped back, his voice sounding softer and less teasing than you would've expected. You pulled back from him and because you didn't know if you would ever get another chance, you stood on your tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek.
You moved away too fast to see his reaction but the gesture made the other two boys smirk at you as you dashed out of the doors, making a beeline for the car pulling out of the driveway.
-
The back rooms of the Orpheum were a maze.
You had left for a few minutes to walk around the venue and clear your head, trying to wring out the last of your nerves.
By the time you found your way back, you expected to find the rest of the band rushing to get ready in the dressing room. But all you saw was Julie anxiously pacing as she had been earlier, a habit she seemed to have inherited from both you and Alex.
“You okay?”
She snapped her head up towards you and sighed. “Yeah, just a little worried. The guys aren’t here yet.”
You looked around the room and then at the clock, frowning. The show was in less than half an hour and that was already cutting it close. Part of you wanted to go check on them but Julie seemed to need you more at the moment.
“Okay, well, give them another ten minutes. I'm sure they'll be here. They wouldn’t miss this…again.”
You ran your palm across the front of your pocket, feeling Luke's note next to your parent’s photo, and hoped you were right.
But then more and more time passed until the stage manager came to escort Julie to the stage.
"Just a second!" She calls out and then turns to you. "(Y/n), something's wrong. They were getting those jolts pretty hard before we left. They must've run out of time."
You shut your eyes tight as the words sunk in. All you could bring yourself now was, ‘This isn't what was supposed to happen.’
The world fell out from under your feet and you had trouble even standing up straight as you imagined what must've happened to them. Your best friends, your brothers, your family was gone and there wasn't anything you could do about it.
The guy knocked again, this time a little harder and with a nervous tone. Julie chewed her lip as she looked between you and the door and you could almost see the cloud of grief settling over her.
As hard as it was, you tried your best to shove your feelings down and marched up to Julie. There would be time to fall apart later, but you knew that this what they would want you to do. "Let's go do this for them, okay?"
She took a deep, shaky breath before hesitantly nodding. You followed closely behind her as she walked out the door though the halls until she reached the stage. You waited beside Flynn in the wing as Julie settled behind her microphone and addressed the crowd.
There were scattered claps from around the venue and then she took a deep breath before singing the opening.
After the first few lines, you took your cue and materialized at the center of the stage. The crowd gasped and cheered the way they always did, but you kept your eyes shut tight and focused on the music.
Just as the song started picking up, you heard a familiar pop in the air and then the sound of drumming. You whirled around to see Alex mounted onto a drum set at the back of the stage, twirling his drumsticks around and smiling like he had never been gone at all.
Once you got over the initial shock, you wanted to cry with relief. They were okay, they were here. Alex winked at you goofily, and you ran towards Julie’s keyboard.
She had started bouncing on the balls of her feet, both of you finally getting into the song now that they were coming back. You followed suit, dancing around the base of the drum set as yours and Julie’s voices came together.
Then Reggie appeared on the other side of Julie and you ran to his side. You bumped his shoulder with yours and he grinned, moving to stand back to back.
The song was ramping up to the chorus when a staticky noise cut through the air, not loud enough for the crowd to hear but enough to make you all look over to the other end of the stage.
You could see Luke's form fading in and out, a look of anguish on his face, and the pit in your stomach opened up again. The crowd was on the edge of their seats as Alex's drumming paused and Luke finally materialized to sing the opening of the chorus.
You didn't even know you were moving until you suddenly found yourself across the stage next to Luke, unable to stop smiling as you sang.
Julie joined you, throwing her arms up in the air happily and jumping around. Reggie appeared by her side, flashing the crowd a winning smile.
Alex stood up and gripped his mic as he sang this solo. You looked back at him and flashed him a proud smile, then whooping loudly when Reggie sang his lines.
You all went down the line hitting your notes until the chorus kicked in again and your heart felt so full you almost couldn't stand it. This was what you were so close to achieving before you died, it was all you had wanted for years, and you knew that if you hadn't died, that night would've changed your life. But this night was something even more special. Because you were all here, all together.
Even if it was just for one last song.
Julie caught your attention and nodded towards the platform that spread out into the crowd. You followed her to the center and stood back to back as everyone cheered.
The guys joined in on either side of you, Alex grabbing one of your hands and Luke holding the other. You all bowed to the audience before taking your cue and vanishing, leaving only Julie on stage.
You landed in the wing, feeling a little lightheaded and overwhelmed from all the emotions you had experienced in the last five minutes. The elated smile fading from your face when all three boys poofed by your side only to fall to the floor instantly.
“It didn’t work.” You said miserably as Julie emerged into the backstage area. She grabbed Flynn and whispered something to her, pointing in the direction of her family. Flynn nodded and disappeared into the crowd while Julie ran to your side.
You hauled Alex onto his feet, letting him lean on you to stay upright while Luke and Reggie trailed behind Julie as she led the group back to the dressing room. Once everyone was inside, they collapsed on the couch or the floor, loudly groaning in pain.
“What happened? Why didn’t it work?” Julie asked tearfully.
“I guess playing here wasn’t our unfinished business.” Alex said hollowly.
“Point Caleb.” Reggie muttered as he clung to the side of an armchair.
You stood frozen next to Julie as panic spread through your whole body, both of you flinching in sympathy as the shocks continued.
“You have to save yourselves right now.” Julie begged. “Join Caleb’s club. It’s better than not existing at all!”
“She’s right.” You managed to say, your voice shaky and almost giving out. Your stomach flipped at the thought of them having to work for an evil club owner forever, but the alternative was worse. “You guys need to go now! For me. For us.”
“We’re not going back there.” Reggie shook his head.
Luke pulled himself up and stumbled forward a little so that he was right in front of you. “No music is worth making if we’re not all making it together.”
You sighed sadly, thinking back to your conversation yesterday. “So no more regrets?”
Luke let out a deep sigh and then reached up and cupped your cheek with his right hand. “Just one.”
You furrowed your eyebrows in response and Luke blinked hard as if he was trying to find the words. "I never told you why I left that night."
"Luke, don't." You gave him a weak smile. "I get it."
"You do?" He asked.
You struggled to get the words out. "Yeah, I mean it was bound to happen eventually. We just got too close and it was weird for you. I understand t-”
"What?" Luke asked, cutting you off with a confused look. "No, no, that's not it at all. Read the-"
Before he could finish, you heard Julie gasp loudly from a few feet away. You looked over to see her stepping back from Alex with an awestruck look on her face as she gripped his forearms.
Wait, what?
Before you could even begin to process what you were seeing, Reggie was reaching out to Julie, who grabbed his wrist and hauled him up to his feet. The three of them stared at each other for a few seconds before Julie turned to you and Luke.
“Guys, come here.”
Alex reached out and pulled you into his side while Luke threw an arm around Reggie’s back and Julie brought you all in closer to her. At first, nothing happened. But then there was a faint buzzing sound and the boys lifted their wrist towards the ceiling and you all watched in awe as the stamp floated away in the blink of an eye.
“Whoa.” Reggie said, his eyes still glued to the ceiling. “I don’t feel as weak anymore.”
“Yeah, me neither.” Alex agreed. “Not that I ever was that weak in the first place.”
You rolled your eyes and let your head fall over on his shoulder. “What do you think that means?”
Luke smiled. “I think it means the band is back.”
It was quiet for a second before Alex looked at you all shyly. “You guys think we can try that hug thing again?”
You laughed as you huddled together again, sniffling and laughing. Then Julie yelled out that you had played the Orpheum and then you were all jumping around, still tangled in each other’s arms.
Eventually, you all broke apart and while the boys started chasing each other around, you turned to Julie. She looked into your eyes and immediately flew into your arms, muttering into your shoulder, “I always wanted a big sister.”
The words warmed your heart and you squeezed her extra hard, grateful that you actually could now. “Well, I’m honored.”
“My family's probably looking for me so..." Julie stepped back from your arms with the biggest smile you’d ever seen on her face, you jokingly bowed to her and she copied the gesture before disappearing behind the door.
You wiped the last of your tears out of your eyes and turned around to find Alex and Reggie were talking in whispers and wearing knowing smiles. When Alex saw you looking, he cleared his throat and nudged Reggie’s shoulder.
“Hey, Reg.” Alex said cheekily, not taking his eyes off of you for even a second. “I was going to check out the next band. You wanna come with me?”
“Sure!” Reggie started strolling towards the door, stopping only for a second to nudge your shoulder and whisper ‘don't do anything I wouldn’t do’ in your ear.
Alex fixed Luke with a pointed look over his shoulder and Reggie gave him a dorky wink before they poofed away. You smiled fondly at the space where they were just standing and awkwardly turned towards Luke.
“Hi.” You said, laughing awkwardly.
“Hi.” Luke muttered back as he stepped forward until he was close enough to grab your hand. “About what I was saying earlier…”
You opened your mouth to say something but he shook his head and pointed to your pocket. “Read it. Please.”
You tugged the note he had given you earlier out of your pocket and carefully folded it open to see that it wasn’t a note at all. It was the love song that Julie had found that day in the garage, the one that he didn’t want anyone to see. You struggled a little trying to decipher Luke's handwriting. The ink was a little smudged and the song was clearly unfinished but it was the most beautiful thing you had ever read. And he had written it for you.
"I didn't leave because we got too close," He said. "It was the opposite, (Y/n), I left because I was scared to lose you, and I know that doesn't make sense because I kind of did w-"
You carefully tucked the paper back in your pocket with one hand and grabbed the back of his neck with the other, pulling him down and closing the last bit of space between you.
Luke's brain short-circuited for a second before he started kissing back, grabbing your waist with enough force to nearly knock you both backwards. It was dizzying and a little desperate, yet weirdly familiar, as if you'd been kissing him your whole life.
Most moments with Luke felt like they were happening in slow motion, but this time it was like a high-speed movie montage of your whole lives. The stolen crayons, the time capsule, the pre performance pep talks, the smell of cinnamon, the ferris wheel, his jacket, the movie nights and songwriting sessions. All of it had led up to this moment.
"I love you." Luke said immediately after you pulled away. "God, I love you so much. I'm such an idiot. I'm sorry."
“Hey, it’s okay.” You laughed, blinking another wave of tears out of your eyes. “I should’ve told you forever ago instead of skirting around it.”
“And what is it that you should’ve told me?” He said teasingly and you rolled your eyes. You had gotten so used to Luke being so shut down or nervous around you that you almost forgot how much of a little shit he could be.
“That I love you too.” You said, unable to stop smiling.
Luke leaned down and captured your lips in another kiss, this time threading his fingers through your hair as he cupped your cheeks in his hands. “I’m never gonna get tired of hearing that.”
You bit your lip to keep another laugh from bubbling up as you looked up at him, feeling completely overwhelmed in the best way possible. "So...what now?"
"I don't know." Luke admitted. "But I know one thing."
"What's that?"
"That no matter where we go, or what we do," He pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. "In life, in death... I'm yours. Always."
-
The End
-
In Life, In Death Taglist:
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JATP Taglist:
@caitsymichelle13 @sunsetcurvej​
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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years
Text
Invisible String
Ship: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid
Warnings: None, this is just fluff.
Word count: 3.2k
Summary: You and Spencer Reid don’t know it, but you’ve almost met quite a few times. What happens when you do?
A/N: This is potentially a bit on the wrong side of the cheesy line, but I was listening to invisible string by Taylor Swift and couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Pls bare in mind I’m from the UK and my only understanding of the US college system is from Google searches, so pls be forgiving of any misunderstandings about that.
November 6th, 2007
Dr. Spencer Reid. As you sat, thumbing through the article he’d written about the formation of ionic compounds in a chemical whose name you could not for the life of you spell or pronounce, you couldn’t help but resent the man.
Sure, the paper was very well-written and as cohesive as possible given the complex subject matter. But Dr. Spencer Reid, whoever he was, was the current source of your resentment at selecting chemistry to make up your science credit. Highlighting the name of a substance you’d have to look up later, you sighed. It was getting late but you had to hand in a critical summary of the paper on Friday.
It didn’t help that Dr. Reid was: a) a triple doctorate holder by the age of 22, or b) that your chemistry lecturer was none other than his old chemistry lecturer from Caltech and practically glowed with pride whenever he got to bring him up.
You chew on the end of your pen, having now distracted yourself from the notes. Not that you were particularly focused anyway.
In another life, maybe you’d have been a budding chemist who could describe an ionic lattice off rote. In this one, however, you’d just have to settle for slogging through the list of chemical processes and hoping you understood it well enough to please Dr. Reid’s biggest fan.
***
April 16th, 2008
Spencer hated flaking on commitments. It caused him a great deal of anxiety, the feeling of disappointing someone. He didn’t have much choice in this circumstance though.
Diana had taken ill over the last weekend. Nothing serious, some stomach bug or other. She’d become severely dehydated though, and had been hospitalised as a precautionary measure. Truth be told, he might not have gone if she hadn’t caught him on the phone. He was already feeling guilty for not having visited since Christmas. He wrote her letters everyday, yet still felt like he was neglecting his duties as a son. Rubbing his hands over his face, he lets out a deep sigh. Then takes out his laptop, to send another email.
Dear. Dr Abraham
I sincerely apologise again for my last minute cancellation. Excluding any unforeseen circumstances, myself and SSA Hotchner will be available to present the lecture on May 12th.
Yours sincerely,
Dr. Spencer Reid.
***
May 12th, 2008
Considering this was your third year on campus, you sure were bad at finding your way around. In your defence, they were doing maintenance in one of the main buildings, meaning that lectures got shuffled around and relocated. You probably had a higher change of attending the right lecture by accident than on purpose.
It doesn’t help that you’re running a little late this morning. You rush into Room 203. A lot of the seats are taken, you have to meander your way past quite a few people until you end up sat almost directly in the middle. Only moments before the lecture starts.
“I’m SSA Hotchner, and this is SSA Reid. We’re members of the BAU which is based at FBI quarters in Quantico. Today, we’ll be talking to you about profiling.”
This is not your forensic linguistics lecture.
Panic hits you, hot in your gut. Scanning the room anxiously, you suddenly become conscious that you’re drawing attention to yourself when you feel the eyes of the man who is not SSA Hotchner on you. Fuck.
There’s no way for you to escape now, not without disturbing half the lecture hall.
So you sit back in your seat, resigning yourself to sit awkwardly in the lecture you’re not supposed to be in and hoping nobody notices.
But then, it’s really interesting, actually. The work that Dr. Reid does sounds similar to work you’ve done in forensic linguistics, analysing patterns of speech and minor phrase formations that can give things away about the perpetrator. By the end of the seminar, you’re sat leaning forward. Enraptured by almost every word coming out of their mouths.
It seems to be the general mood: everyone is enamoured. People are clammering to speak to them at the end. After a brief inner battle, myou decide that you should talk to them too.
What’s the harm?
You’ve decided that you’ll speak to Dr. Reid, since he seems to share more of a field focus. However, as you’re heading down, you spot him. Dr Adams, your chemistry lecturer from last year. Oh shit, it’s that Dr. Reid.
Speaking to SSA Hotchner will just have to do instead.
----
“I’ve been majoring in forensic linguistics and criminal psychology,” You tell him, “Do you think ... I mean, I know it’s a pretty exclusive team to get on to. But is that the kind of thing that could maybe get me there one day?”
Hotchner nods, “Forensic linguistics is something that comes in very useful in the investigative aspects of cases. The FBI is always looking for new angles and perspectives, those are both good subjects to study if you were thinking of signing up to the academy.”
"Thank you, Agent Hotchner,” You say, suddenly a little bashful as you notice the queue of people lingering behind you, “That was a really interesting lecture. It’s definitely something I’ll think about.”
“You should talk to Dr. Reid if you have a particular interest in the linguistic aspect of profiling. He’s more specialised in that area than I am. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to discuss any research you’re conducting at the moment and suggest materials that might be helpful in furthering your understanding of the area.”
“Thank you,” You smile, and he nods at you again.
Stepping away from Agent Hotchner, you look to your right. Dr. Reid is still engaged deeply in conversation with Dr. Adams. You glance at your watch. There was time before your next class, you supposed, so you could wait. It couldn’t hurt to find out more, could it? It wasn‘t like you were getting your hopes up or anything.
It’s then that you feel a pair of arms around your waist, a familiar scent of cologne.
“Hey!” You whip around to see your boyfriend, grinning widely.
“Hey,” You reply, “How’d you find me?”
“I was walking past when I saw you talking to that FBI agent. Seriously, FBI?” He asks, with a disapproving quirk of his eyebrow, “You want to grab a coffee before Psych?”
You want to say no. But he’s got his hand on the small of your back, leading  you out of the room before you even get a chance to reply. You glance back over your shoulder, making eye contact with Dr. Reid for all of two seconds before you’re swept away.
“Seriously though babe, FBI?”
Unsurpisingly, you don’t mention your potential change in career path to him.
***
March 8th, 2009
“Come in,” Hotch calls. He looks up from the paperwork on his desk to see Spencer entering the room, clutching a report in his hand.
“That last case we were on. I was doing some more research, just for future reference about linguistic patterns. Have you read this?” He asks, sliding a copy of your paper across the desk.
Hotch gives it a cursary look over, nodding, “Yes. It’s interesting. She’s signed up as an NAT. I believe I actually spoke to her at one of our lectures last year.”
"Her work is really impressive for somebody whose only studied this at a master level.”
Hotch almost smiles, “Yes. That’s exactly why I’ve recommended to the bureau that she signs up for profiling classes. Her work shows a lot of promise. They’re sending over a copy of her completed thesis, if you’d like to read it.”
“Yeah, I’d like that, thank you,” Spencer says, struggling to conceal the smile playing on the corner of his lips.
“I’ll email it to you as soon as I receive it.”
Spencer nods, smiling properly to himself as he leaves the room. It wasn’t unusual, exactly, for him to share new research that was relevant to cases. It was important that they all kept themselves fresh and acquainted with new theories about the field. Hotch, however, didn’t miss the excited way Spencer had presented it to him. Talking about how impressive you were, as if to subtly hint. He thinks it’s quite typical, actually, that Spencer could take such an interest in someone he only knew via an essay.
Although Spencer’s response does get Hotch to send a follow-up email, inquiring about whether you’d agreed to the classes. If Spencer was this impressed with your work, it must be good.
***
June 1st, 2009
The Metro that morning is packed. It doesn’t help that you’ve not been living here long, and don’t exactly know the route from your flat to the station off by heart yet.
You'd also had to make a detour to the post office. Your, firmly ex, boyfriend had mailed over the last of your things. Really, it was good riddance. His hounding you about your choice in job had only worsened. The relationship had been hanging on by a thread long before you’d moved away last month. You were more than a little grateful that it was finally over, that you could draw a line under it all and focus on your career.
Unfortunately, that hadn’t stopped you having a little cry to yourself on the way over.
Rushing, you make it onto the Metro just as the doors are about to close, falling against the railing on the left side. You grip onto it for dear life.
On the other side of the carriage, Spencer notices someone hurrying for the train. He had been buried deep in the paper he's reading, but the bustle had pulled his attention. Your back is to him, and there’s a scarf at your feet. He wants to say something, to try and get your attention, but he can’t from where he is.
“Miss, I think you’ve dropped something,” The woman you’re standing in front of says, gesturing to the scarf pooled at your feet.
You meet her eyes, sniffling slightly, “Thank you.”
Spencer watches as you pick it up, back still to him. Crisis averted, he turns his attention back to what he's reading: the published copy of your thesis Hotch had emailed him last week.
***
September 2nd, 2009
"This is SSA ____, the newest member of our team. She’s recently graduated from the academy and has an excellent knowledge of linguistics that the bureau feels will be a great advantage to this team. She’s had her induction and now will be joining the team on a probationary basis. She’ll be spending a little time with each of you in between cases to make sure she forms well-rounded knowledge of all aspects of what we do.”
It’s a little overwhelming, having everybody’s eyes on you.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” Emily is the first over, offering her hand for you to shake.
“You too, it’s really nice to meet all of you,” You say, shaking hands in turn with her, Morgan, Rossi, J.J, and Garcia.
“Hi,” Spencer calls from behind you.
You turn around to face him. You remember what Hotch had mentioned to you about him being a bit of a germaphobe, so you keep your hand by your side.
“Hi,” You say, “Dr. Reid, right?”
“You can call me Spencer,” He says, a little bashful, “I read your thesis, the study about you did about the construction of passive clauses as an indicator of guilt in adolescent offenders. It was fascinating.”
You feel yourself getting a little warm under his gaze, “Thank you. I'm surprised you’re even aware it existed.”
Hotch interrupts then, “Reid, do you want to sit with ____ while she goes over the case file? It’d be useful if you could go over how you’d go about constructing a linguistic profile.”
That’s how you end up spending much of your first day: with Spencer, huddled up over case files as he explains his profile-building process to you. Spencer’s an incredible teacher, you think. He explains his thought process without ever being condescending, leaving little gaps for you to answer.
You’re incredible, Spencer thinks. You seem to grasp exactly what he’s saying, filling in the gaps based on the clues that are actually in front of you, not letting yourself be guided too much by bias.
***
October 29th, 2009
Spencer loves everyone at the BAU. They’re all the family he never had, and he has relatively good friendships with all of them. Just, they aren’t quite the same as they are with you.
He struggles to put his finger on it, exactly. It’s a unique relationship. He shares very familial bonds with a lot of them: he and Morgan are brotherly, Rossi is fatherly, Garcia’s somewhat like an overexcited little sister.
The friendship he has with you is special. You always listen to him, even as he rambles on about inane things that anybody else would tell him to shut up about. In fact, sometimes about the exact things that they do tell him to shut up about. Just last week, he was rambling on about Star Trek when Morgan told him, not altogether unkindly, to “give it a rest, kid.”
“What was that you were saying?” You’d asked, sidling up to him, “I’ve never watched Star Trek but I thought the quote was beam me up Scotty.”
He’d looked at you, considering you for a moment, “You don’t have to-”
“I know. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know Spence. You think I’d ask for a 15 minute lecture on Star Trek if I wasn’t interested in it?”
A warm feeling flooded his chest. The look on your face was so genuine, and you’d perched on the edge of his desk as he gesticulated, getting deep into the lore and how the misconception had come about. He still didn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, until he got to the end of his spiel. And then you asked him a question. You asked him a question to make sure you understood what he was talking about. You were listening the whole time, and you genuinely cared about the point he was making.
It's then that he realises, it was hard to pinpoint because it wasn’t friendship. He likes you. Shit.
***
November 2nd, 2009
You like everybody at the BAU. They’re all quite patient with you, really, happy to walk you through how they do things. Morgan’s taught you quite a bit about the tactical side of things already, and Rossi has been working with you on your interrogation techniques. Emily’s generally just a great mentor, always happy to listen and support however she can. She’s more experienced, but still relatively new to the team too, so you feel like there’s a certain understanding between you.
However, you’d definitely be lying if you said the person you hadn’t learnt the most from, or spent the most time with, was Spencer.
It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the team, either. You seemed to gravitate towards one another, forever sitting side-by-side on the plane. Sharing a line of thinking that usually led to devolved rambling, and scribbling, until you came up with something coherent.
It isn’t until November 2nd that you realise you have feelings for him.
You’re sitting at your desk, filling out a case report that Emily had promised to go over with you before she left for lunch.
“Hey,” Spencer’s familiar soothing voice comes, as he sidles up to you, “I got you something.”
Looking up, you notice the coffee cup in his right hand, “You are my caffeine lifesaver.”
He hands it to you, smiling a little nervously, “It’s actually not that.”
“Oh?”
His other hand is tucked behind his back, and he pulls it foward towards you, brandishing a red sweatshirt.
“I know you uh, left your red sweater behind at the hotel on the last case. And I know it was your favourite one, and I was shopping yesterday and I saw this and...” He trails off, embarassed, “It’s not the exact same, but it’s the same kind. I just thought you might like it.”
You swallow, hard, “Spencer that’s so sweet. C-Can I hug you?”
He nods. Standing up from your desk, you wrap your arms around his frame.
“That was so thoughtful.”
He squeezes you a little, really leaning into the hug, his face pressing against your shoulder. His tousled hair tickles your nose a little and you smile, clinging onto him, relishing in the feeling of safety and warmth.
It hits you then. When you realise you don’t want to let go. When you realise he makes you feel fuzzy. Loved. Cared for in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. Eventually, you have to let him go, and it’s in a daze that you return to your desk. You’re so concentrated on your overwhelming realisation, you don’t realise how reluctant he is to let you leave his embrace.
***
December 22nd, 2009
Driving Spencer home from the office was really just an excuse to get some time alone with him. You’d said something about the Metro being busy, one of the services being cancelled. He hadn’t factchecked you on that.
The BAU had tentative plans for boxing day, with the caveat being that no emergent cases arrived in the meantime. It was only really four days you wouldn’t see him, but that was longer than you’d ever gone without seeing him in all the time you’d known him. You worked together everyday, and it was unusual for you to go a full weekend without seeing each other. Recently, you’d got into the habit of going out for Sunday brunch together.
Pulling up outside his house, you hear him sigh.
“I know it’s only four days, but I’ll miss you.”
Smiling, you turn to him, “I’ll miss you too.” 
Something in you changes then. He’s looking at you. You may be relatively new to profiling but you can see something behind his eyes, feel the charge of unsaid words electrifying the air.
“Can I hug you?” He asks.
“You can always hug me,” You reply, undoing your seatbelt and opening your arms for him.
He embraces you the way he always has: tightly. Like he doesn��t want to let go, couldn’t imagine ever letting you go. His face nuzzles to the crook of your neck, and then you feel his thumb brush your chin. Tilting your head down.
You exchange a look. His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, and back. You nod your head, just slightly.
He kisses you then. Tender. You melt into one another, lips moving quickly as you drink one another in. Kissing each other breathless, your fingers intertwine in his hair and his hand comes up to cup your cheek. Nothing has ever felt so right.
***
June 10th, 2011
Neither of you have ever really believed in fate. It’s hard to - especially in your line of work - to want to interpret the workings of the universe as deliberate. Maybe you’d think a little differently though, if you knew about all the near-misses. All the times you could have met. But fate knew better. She waited until you were ready.
And as you exchange vows, promising each other your forever, you both know you couldn’t possibly deny that this was meant to be.
------
Taglists: @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician
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424 notes · View notes
meteorrogers · 3 years
Text
the secret charm of forbidden things | a. b.
summary: you piss off your professor 
pairing: professor!andy barber x reader
warnings: professor/student relationship, student humiliation (nothing serious), fluff, smut (+18 pls), daddy kink, spanking, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (and like the most unoriginal plot); let me know if i missed something!
word count: 3,478 (approx)
a/n: i really tried to avoid writing this shit but my brain just wouldn’t let it go, so i’m really sorry for this. also, i’m not a smut writer so this couldn’t be more poorly written. sorry for that too *nervous laughter* i hope there are some readers out there who enjoy cliché stories lol. oh and i know nothing about criminal law so i just skimmed through the Mass. laws and picked the easiest thing i could create a question of. anyway, if you do read this, i hope you’ll enjoy it and let me know what you think! every kind of feedback is appreciated!! 
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You’re browsing the internet, looking for some quality e-shop that would offer lingerie you’d like. Or more importantly, he would like. And since your focus is completely on the phone that is hidden from the professor’s eyes (or so you think), you miss the call of your name.
“Miss (Y/L/N)!” the stern and this time louder sound of a male voice brings your attention to the man that it belongs to, standing only a few feet from your seat, thanks to its place in the front row. His expression is hard, a clear sign that you’ve been caught and you shrink into your chair, your cheeks becoming warm. “If you want to pass my class, I suggest you turn off the phone and focus on the lecture.”
You do as you’re asked and put the phone away but you don’t expect him to address you again.
“So since you seem to have enough knowledge that you don’t even need to listen to me,” he pauses and comes closer to you, crossing his arms. “Tell me what the punishments for organ trafficking are.”
You hold your breath, not even realizing it as you’re trying to think of the correct answer, however, that’s a little difficult with him towering over you, and your eyes can’t help but flicker to his crotch that is aligned with your vision. When you look up again, there is an amusement painted over his face which you almost miss to notice. 
“Um, imprisonment?”
The professor keeps looking at you expectantly and when you don‘t say anything more, his chest heaves in a deep sigh, and his eyebrows rise as he looks at the floor in disappointment. “You’ll be having a hard time getting clients, Miss (Y/L/N),” he tells you and goes back to his desk to lean his backside on it.
Okay, you weren’t paying attention but you also thought that the times when professors publicly humiliated students had been left behind. So, now you are not only embarrassed but also pissed.
You just roll your eyeballs and slightly shake your head, taking a pen and doodling in the open notebook laying on your desk in order to calm yourself down and trying not to think about the judgemental stares being sent your way.
“Does anyone here want to remind Miss (Y/L/N) the consequences of organ trafficking?” he asks, before fucking Amelia raises her hand with her all too sugary may I, professor Barber? and you nearly lose it. You watch him as he sweetly smiles at her and prompts her to answer. She does, correctly so, and while she’s going into details, he lets his eyes wander and rest them on you from time to time. You never avert your eyes, glaring at him, hoping he takes notice of the annoyance written all over your face, but he just smirks when she finishes talking and he looks back at her.
“You’re a brilliant student, Amelia. I think you deserve a reward for the hard work.” When he stresses the word reward, he gives you a glance, and you can’t keep your eyes from rolling, again.
“Alright, class, that’s it for today. Don’t forget to send in the paper that’s due Sunday. Enjoy your weekend.”
You pack your things, shoving them into your bag before storming towards the exit, but you don’t make it too far when the professor’s voice stops you in your tracks.
“Miss (Y/L/N), a moment, please,” he says as he gathers his things. You sigh, closing your eyes as you mentally prepare yourself for what’s to come. Turning around, you make your way towards him. 
“I believe we need to discuss your work ethic.” when you remain silent, he continues. “Great, since you don’t have any objections, you can follow me into my office.”
You do as you’re told and while you wait for him to unlock the door in the corner of the auditorium, you catch a glimpse of Amelia giving you a smug smirk. Mr. Barber finally opens the door and extends his arm, letting you in before him. You enter and stop in the middle of the office, nervously fiddling with the hem of your pleated black skirt as you hear a soft click signaling that the door is now closed, followed by the snap of the lock.
You gulp, your heart beating faster as you continue to stand there and try not to give away your nervousness. The only sound that follows is the echo of his footsteps as he walks past you and to his desk, putting his stuff on the wooden surface. He doesn’t say anything, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling the sleeves of his moss green dress shirt up to his elbows and the veins of his forearm are left on full display.
“Mr. Barber, I—“ you finally speak up but he cuts you off, making his way towards the comfy-looking couch sitting alongside the wall opposite of you. 
“You wanna tell me what that was about? You know I have a no-phone policy in my class, right?” he sits down and spreads his arms on the back of the sofa.
“I’m sorry, I was just—“
“You were just what? Looking for some skimpy underwear to tease me with during the lectures?” the blood rushes to your cheeks and you look to your left, not able to hold his gaze anymore. “As much as I’d enjoy that sight, I’m still a little disappointed in you. The question wasn’t that hard.” He’s closely watching your every reaction as your body squirms, your thighs discreetly rubbing against each other. “You know, Amelia truly is a great student. She’s slowly becoming better than you since you seem distracted for most of my classes. What reward do you think I should give her?”
And that is what causes you to run out of patience and your head to snap to where he is sitting. Bingo, Andy thinks.
“Are you fucking serious, Andy?” you say with a raised voice. If you blinked, you wouldn’t even catch the smirk that formed on his lips for like a millisecond.
“Hey!” he scolds “Watch your tone.“
You ignore him.
“Since when do you humiliate your students in front of the whole class, huh?” you confront him angrily “It was a dick move, Andy, you know that! And then the bullshit with Amelia? If you want her to wet your dick, just ask her, I’m sure she’ll be up for it.”
“Come here,” he says calmly which unsettles you because you expected him to be furious given the way you’d lashed out at him, but you roll your eyes anyway and turn to leave, however, the sound of your name coming from his lips stops you. “(Y/N).” you inhale deeply and turn back to him. “I said, come here.”
You come up to him, still keeping your distance so you don‘t stand between his spread-out legs. “What?” you bite.
He huffs out a laugh. “You’re walking on very thin ice, sweetheart.” He says and you feel your belly doing flips at the nickname. “How about you lose the attitude and come here like I instructed you to.” You cross your arms over your chest.
“How about you go fuck yourself.”
And that’s the last straw. Andy Barber is a very patient guy but when it comes to a bratty behavior like yours right now, he tends to lose his temper pretty quickly.
He swiftly leans forward and grabs your wrist, yanking you between his thighs. You have to catch yourself on his broad shoulders as you stumble from the firm tug, your stomach flush against his chest. His hand grabs the strap of your bag, putting it on the floor before his fingers fall to the back of your thighs, sliding up and up until they rest just below the cheeks of your ass, holding you against him.
“You wanna be a bad girl today, huh?”
You frown and click your tongue. “Jesus, Andy, I’m not in the mood for this.” You start pushing against his shoulders to put a distance between you, failing miserably.
“Sweetheart, you’re not even trying. You think I’m stupid or what?”
“I’m serious, let me go,” you say, but you don’t even sound convincing to yourself.
“You’re not in the mood, you say?” he asks and you nod your head. “Then why do I smell you all the way here, hm?” his fingers creep higher, playing with the lacy hem of your panties. He snorts. “You’re desperate to get fucked, aren’t you?”
By now, your panties are drenched. After what he did to you in the class, you tried so hard not to be turned on by him, but it’s impossible. Andy is a very attractive man, very intelligent and in combination with his sinful mouth, you just can’t bring yourself to not want to be fucked by him.
He doesn’t break eye contact when he hooks his fingers into your underwear and slides them down your legs, until he leans forward, his cheek brushing your hip so he can pull them all the way down himself. You step out of them and his back straightens up, putting the piece of ruined fabric into his pants pocket.
“Get over my knee.”
“Andy, come on. We’re in school. Can’t you just fuck me now and spank me later?”
“Oh, so suddenly you are in the mood?” he raises his brows “Get over my knee. Now. You don’t wanna piss me off more than I already am.” He says sternly.
You unhurriedly move from in between his legs but you’re too slow for his liking. Before you can react, he’s once again yanking you by your wrist, twisting your body in a way that makes you fall over his thick thighs. One hand gently settles on your throat, holding your head up, and the other starts tickling the back of your knee before slowly creeping up your thigh, tucking up your skirt, until you feel the cool air of the room brush against your wet pussy.
You clutch his pants in your hands, and when his palm leaves your skin you prepare yourself for the first blow. Instead, he gently sets it down on your butt again just to caress it, but even that unexpected touch has you jerking forward. He laughs and before you know it, the hand lifts itself up and strikes your right cheek. This time your body jerks rightfully but the fingers around your neck tighten, preventing you from moving too much.
“Not so tough now, huh?” he strokes the sore skin. “How many do you think you deserve?” you shrug as best as the restraint allows you to. “If I remember correctly” he pauses, just to brush his fingers against your pussy lips, smiling to himself when he feels the arousal leaking out of you “You weren’t paying attention in the class.” He spanks your other cheek. “You were using your phone even though it’s forbidden.” For that, the next hit lands on your right cheek again and you don’t think before you dare to open your mouth.
“Really? You are gonna lecture me about what is and isn‘t forbidden? You’re fucking your student for God’s sake.”
“Just for that, I’m adding 5 more to the ones for raising your voice at me, lying to me, and disobeying me.”
He spanks you for everything he listed, caressing your sore butt in between each hit and you are on the verge of crying, the tears in your eyes about to fall down your cheeks. When you think he’s finished, you release a relieved breath, but suddenly, he strikes you three more times, without any break and you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut, the tears finally rolling down.
“That was for the eye rolls I received throughout the day.” He says angrily before leaning down, brushing his lips against your ear as he whispers. “Now, what do you call me when we’re alone?” You just need a minute to catch your breath to reply but he’s not having it. “Answer me right now, or I’ll spank your ass raw, you won’t even be able to sit right. What do you call me?” he asks again.
“Daddy.” You whimper quietly and he smiles.
“Good girl.” He forces your body up with the hand on your throat and throws you on the couch, but before you can make yourself comfortable, he flips you on your stomach and grabs your hips, pulling you up so your ass is in the air.
His touch disappears for a moment and when you adjust your head to be able to get at least a little peek at him, your cheek pressed into the couch, you see him loosening his tie. He grabs your arms and crosses them at your wrist on the small of your back, tying them together with the piece of fabric.
He kisses each palm and then continues up your bare arm, licking, sucking, and biting, until his lips reach your shoulder covered by the short sleeve of your white t-shirt. “You okay, sweetheart?” He knows you are, but just to be sure.
“Yes, daddy.” You smile and he tugs the neckline of your shirt away for a second just to kiss your skin.
Then, he kneels on the floor behind you, coming face to face with your weeping cunt and he needs to adjust himself at the sight. He curls his fingers around your thighs and starts kissing them, getting closer to your core and his eyes close on their own accord when he inhales your smell. His lips finally make contact with your lower ones, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your entrance before he pulls away and hums, leaving you trembling. 
“Andy!” You whine from the loss as your frustration grows, and he bites the tender skin of your ass.
“Baby, call me Andy one more time and you won’t be coming for a very long time.”
Your breath shudders when you exhale. “I’m sorry, daddy.”
If it was any other time and any other place, he would take his time to properly punish you, but someone could knock on the door any second and he’s honestly been dying to devour you all day.
He spreads your cheeks and leans forward, finally burying his face into your cunt, his tongue finding the little bundle of nerves and you moan, your eyes rolling in your head from the feeling of his soft tongue relieving the ache combined with the feeling of his rough beard scratching your inner thighs.
Andy takes the bud between his lips, sucking harshly and you buck your hips, causing him to grunt and the vibrations go straight into your clit, more slick dripping from your hole. He doesn‘t let a single drop go to waste as he licks up to your entrance, slurping the juices along the way before he starts plunging his tongue in and out of you. You bite your lip, trying not to make too loud sounds.
“That feel good?” he pulls away to ask, replacing his tongue with his thumb as he waits for your answer, rubbing your clit in quick circles.
“So good, daddy. Let me cum, please,” you whimper and he smirks.
“You’re lucky we’re in my office right now, otherwise I’d take my sweet time to take this sweet pussy apart,” to emphasize it, he thrusts his thumb into you and pinches your sensitive clit between two fingers, another moan escaping your lips. “I wouldn’t let you cum until you were crying and screaming out apologies.”
He slides his thumb back down to your clit, quickly circling it as he dives into you again, massaging your walls with the soft muscle until the knot in your belly starts tightening and you bite on the cushion to prevent yourself from screaming as the dam finally breaks and you’re cumming, Andy drinking up everything your pussy has to offer and he needs to force himself to pull away, your taste almost too addictive.
Before you know it, the sound of his belt clanking reaches your ears and a moment later, you feel his hand on your hip while the other gets a hold of his cock, positioning the tip at your entrance before pushing himself slowly into your heat. He groans while you mewl, filling you to the hilt and giving you some time to adjust to his size.
He starts with slow thrusts once he feels you constrict around him and the hand that isn’t bruising your hip grips the knot that holds your wrists together, giving himself leverage when he begins to quicken his pace.
“Fuck, you feel so good, baby. So tight.”
And he feels amazing, too, his cock reaching all the right places, the familiar tingling reappearing again as your thighs start to quiver. He leans over you, his chest to your back as his hand on your hip slides down and starts rubbing your clit.
“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” his warm breath hits the shell of your ear. “You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel your pussy squeezing around me. God.”
“Please, daddy.” You mewl and he growls at your innocent voice, picking up his pace even more so, his thrusts becoming harder and your tied hands grasp his wrist. 
“Cum for me, baby. Cum for daddy.” He nips at your ear and with a few more thrusts, you’re cumming again, not able to hold in the moans anymore. He rides you through it, chasing his own orgasm and when you feel his hot cum filling you up, he stills, his breath brushing your cheek as he pants.
Once he comes down from his high, he kisses your jaw and stands up, pulling himself from your heat and you hiss at the feeling. He puts his cock into his boxers and zips his pants before he unties your hands, revealing the light red marks on your wrists. You stretch your hands a little before you bring them under yourself to lift yourself up, your skirt falling back down around your thighs and covering your now-glistening intimate parts.
Turning around, you stay kneeling on the couch, looking up at Andy with those big eyes that make him weak in the knees. The corner of his mouth lifts at the sight of your fucked out state, your hair is messy, there are imprints from the cushion on the cheek you were lying on, and the wet trails from your tears are almost dried.
He leans down and kisses you slowly and deeply as his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, his other hand gently cupping your cheek. Jesus, he doesn’t know how you do it but his dick is already twitching in his pants so he breaks the kiss because otherwise, he’d have to fuck you again. He pulls you up on your feet and bends down to pick up your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before his hands fall to your hips. You smile and adjust the strap.
“So, when will I see you in the new number?” he smirks.
“Well, I didn’t even get to pick any,” you reply with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “And I have Mrs. Harper next and I wouldn’t dare to use my phone during her class since her punishments are actual punishments.”
“Are you saying my punishments are ineffective?” he feigns shock.
“I’m just saying if you fucked every student for using their phone, they’d be doing it on purpose, professor.”
He laughs and pulls you closer. “That would be exhausting. But those kinds of punishments are reserved for my favorite student only.” 
“Should I be worried? You seemed pretty delighted with Amelia.” you joke, but half of you is a bit insecure because Amelia is a pretty girl with glowing skin and a brain big enough to impress him. And like the amazing person Andy is, he sees right through you and gives you an adoring smile before his lips touch your forehead, your eyes fluttering close. 
“You are my favorite student. Nobody else,” he assures you once he pulls away. 
Your smile widens and your belly twists at his sappiness, but you wrinkle your nose when you suddenly become aware of the slickness between your legs.
“I need my panties back.”
He snorts and shakes his head.
“I’m gonna keep them.” Your jaw drops. You have two more classes today, you can’t go that long with Andy’s cum leaking out of you! “Oh, you thought your punishment was over? I want you to come over to my place right after school. And don’t even think about going home to change.” His stern voice is back and he takes your chin between his fingers.
“I hope you finished your paper. We have a long weekend in front of us.”
the end.
a/n2: thank you for reading!!!!!❤️❤️my other works can be find under #writer luci !☺️
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caesaryoulater · 3 years
Text
Trust
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Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word count: 1.5k Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT. Minors DNI
Summary: Bucky gets home early and walks into something he’s not expecting. Content: Masturbation. Porn. Oral (mutual receiving). Vaginal sex. Rough sex. Choking. Spanking.
A/N: I was inspired by the most recent episode of Ted Lasso and took it a little too far....
Masterlist
You lay back against the pillows, watching the phone screen in your hand. A small whimper escapes as the actor on screen pushes the actress back on the bed, hips pounding into hers. His hand reaches for her throat and you can’t help but let your mind wander. In your mind it’s cool vibranium instead of flesh. Your fingers work faster, you’re so close. You close your eyes, focusing on the moans and grunts coming from your earbuds. “Babe, you here- shit.” Your phone goes flying from your hand to the floor. Bucky’s voice startling you. Your face heats up and you stare at him. “I wasn’t expecting you so early.” Honestly you weren’t expecting him for a couple days at least. Hence the solo session. He stands in the doorway to the bedroom. Masturbation wasn’t anything new to your relationship. Sending surprise videos while he was away was a common occurrence. Porn though. That wasn’t something you had brought up before. You think of the compromising position he caught you in and part of you wants to throw the covers over yourself and hide. The other part wishes he’d jump into bed and finish the job. He crosses the room and picks your phone up, handing it to you. “Can you show me what you were watching?” “W-what?” As progressive as he is, you weren’t sure how he’d react. It definitely wouldn’t have been the norm when he was younger. You hoped he’d never shame you, but you weren’t really expecting him to take an interest. If it was something a younger man couldn’t look past, what would make him interested in it? “If I can do something better, I’d like to know.” You sigh and look up at him. The mix of concern and intrigue written on his face. “Buck- there isn’t anything you can do better... I’m happy with our sex life.” And you are. He definitely has a ‘your pleasure is my pleasure’ mentality. He’s  attentive and loving and everything you could ever ask for. “But?” You sigh again. “Do you really want to see?” He nods. Bracing yourself for any negative reaction he might have, you unlock and restart the video where it left off, handing the phone over. On screen, the actor still has his hand on the actress’s throat. His hips moving unrelenting. His hand moves from her throat and flips her over, smacking her ass as he thrusts back into her. Hand gripping her hair now. “Why haven’t you brought this up before?” “The last guy I was with made me feel kind of gross for it.” Before him you had been young and mostly inexperienced. You were mostly uncomfortable expressing your wants and needs. He was the first person you started letting guards down with. That you felt comfortable telling what you were into instead of going with the motions and leaving unsatisfied. Things were great until that night, in the heat of the moment, you asked for something rougher. He stopped. He could’ve just said he wasn’t into it. Instead, he lectured you on it. Demanded to know where the idea came from. Told you porn was immoral when you mentioned it was something you came across online. Called you a whore and stormed off. The next day he broke it off because any girl into ‘that shit’ would never be satisfied by one man and he wasn’t into that. Later, you learned he had been cheating, which seemed about right. You were back to not wanting to open up, settling for unsatisfying and infrequent sex. Until you met Bucky. You watch him, his face unreadable. “This is what you want?” “Maybe...  I mean, if you’re comfortable with it. I don’t want you to feel-“ At least he wasn’t berating you or making you feel like a freak. “Is it what you want,” he cuts you off. He emphasizes each word. The tone of his voice has changed and sends chills through you. You nod. He tosses the phone on the end of the bed and motions for you to sit on the edge. He’s towering over you, showing off his large frame. “We have to go over some things first.” And you do. If you’re uncomfortable, you use the stop light system. If needed, you tap his hip four times if you can’t speak. You’re buzzing with excitement and anticipation. “You trust me?” He glances at the vibranium arm. He’s come such a long way with how he feels about it, but this was asking a lot. You nod. “More than anyone.” You could’ve said that before. But now whatever trust you had in him doubled. You felt safe. Physically and emotionally. He leans in and gives you a quick, sweet kiss. When he pulls back, everything shifts. His eyes are intense. He roughly pulls you off of the bed to him. His arm circles around your lower back. “Are you going to be a good girl?” You look up at him and nod. “Yes,” you breathe out. His metal fingers grab at your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. “Yes what?” “Yes sir.” He pulls you in for a rough kiss. You’re on fire. You can’t believe this is happening. That Bucky is home earlier than expected and fully leaning into this. That you had been so nervous to even bring it up when he barely even questioned it. His hands reach for the hem of the oversized tee you had on and yanks it over your head. His eyes drink you in, appreciating you had nothing on underneath. He throws you back on the bed, his fingers grazing over you before he pulls back and starts stripping. “I’ve missed this pretty little pussy of yours.” He climbs in the bed, grabbing you and pulling you so you’re hovering over his face. Diving in, he grabs your hips, holding you to him. Helping you grind against him. You lean forward, needing to get your hands on him. He helps out, lining himself up with your mouth, thrusting his hips up into you. Taking what he wanted while somehow never losing his focus on you. You can’t help the moan you let out around him. He pulls you off of him and flips you over on your back. He drags himself through your slick before thrusting into you. Grabbing your leg for leverage. Headboard smacking into the wall.  Your hands gripping the sheets. His vibranium hand moves to rest on your neck. No pressure. His movements stop so he’s just resting inside you. You roll your hips against him, needing more. His other hand comes down with a sharp smack against your thigh. You still yourself, whining. “Good girl.” His hand tightens against the sides of your throat. Your heart races, the excitement almost too much. He starts moving his hips again, slowly at first, eyes on you, making sure you’re okay, before picking back up their pace. It’s not long before you’re pushed over the edge. Eyes rolling back, hands gripping the sheets harder, legs squeezing his hips. Tears prick your eyes. You hadn’t expected to cum so quickly. You knew he wasn’t near finishing. “Shit,” he growls out, fucking you through your orgasm. He pulls out and flips you over on your stomach. “Hips up.” You shift yourself up on your knees and forearms. He pulls your hips back and thrust into you, immediately picking back up his pace. He’s relentless and there’s something about how he’s just going for what he wants. He brings his hand down on one ass cheek then the other. “Color.” You cry out. “G-green.” His hand comes down twice more. One hand pushes your face into the mattress while the other snakes around, finding your sensitive clit. Your moans muffled. He draws out another orgasm, his following closely behind. “Fuck.” He stills inside you, catching his breath. Falling to the bed beside you he gently pulls you to him and flips so he’s hovering over you. His demeanor has changed, he’s his usual gentle self, kissing at whatever skin he can reach, especially your neck. He pulls back, carefully inspecting and smoothing his fingers over your skin, checking for any bruises. “Bucky I’m fine,” you cup his face in your hands. He looks in your eyes and brings his lips to yours. You’re a little sore and exhausted, but fine. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, lazily kissing. You mindlessly play with the hair at the nape of his neck, letting your nails scratch. He hums and makes eye contact again. “Was it too much?” You shake your head, thumb caressing his cheek. “It was great. I’m glad you came home early and caught me,” you laugh. “I hope you’ve learned I’m happy to try anything with you.” You smirk. “I’ll have to show you my playlist then.” He cocks an eyebrow. “Playlist?” You nod. “How about a bath, then we pull that up on the TV and see what happens?” You giggle, nod and pull him in for a kiss. “I love you so much.”
@ohladymacbeth @taylormobley@grumpyashhh@artsymaddie @wonderlandfandomkingdom @ratedrkohardychick91@canadian-fox @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123@jgtfvhsg@lharrietg @tailsoflightning @tanyaherondale@maxximofff @mysticmoonbooks@heartbeats-wildly @libbie29​ @djarins-riduur​
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lifeofkaze · 3 years
Note
Hi love!
Sorry for bothering you, but could you do something like really cute and fluffy between Charlie Weasley and reader where he's all shy and delicate maybe teaching her about dragons and their characteristics pls? Like, something that feels really intimate, you know?
I absolutely love your writing and I believe that you could make justice to the character.
Take care darling,
-A
Thank you for the request, loveliest anon! This is actually the first fic request I’ve ever gotten and I’m so happy you like my stuff so much, this makes me very very soft.
This fluff piece was just what I needed to get my mojo back hopefully. Please let me know if this is like what you had in mind - I for one had a lot of fun with it! <3
***
Favourites
Charlie Weasley x Reader
Word Count: ~ 2.800
As a Care of Magical Creatures test covering dragons of all things is imminent and you were too distracted in class to pay proper attention, you know just who to turn to for help.
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“You want me to do what?”
Charlie Weasley blinked at you in confusion. He could feel his blood rushing in his ears as he looked at you standing in front of him, clutching you Care for Magical Creatures book to your chest as you raised your eyebrows at him.
“I asked if you could help me studying for the test next week?” you repeated your question, brow slightly furrowed. “I can’t keep track of all these dragon traits and who would know them better than you?”
Charlie felt the heat creeping up on his face. Of course, the test. It was all he had been able to think about ever since Professor Kettleburn had announced the topic; all except you of course.
He tried to formulate a coherent answer that wouldn’t make him look like a blabbering fool in front of you, but the way the dappled sunlight that broke through the trees reflected in your hair distracted him more than he cared to admit.
So he resorted to a weak nod. “Uhm, sure, I’d love to. See you at six in the library?” he managed to stammer out eventually.
A beautiful smile formed on your face as you nodded in enthusiasm. “Sounds great, see you there!”
Charlie watched as you swished around and walked back to your friends, who greeted you with giggles and whispers as they glanced in his direction. You gave one of them a playful swat on the arm, before your clear laugh carried over to him onto the warm summer air and made his heart clench.
He knew all of his dragons by heart, of course he did; this test was the first he hadn’t bothered studying for at all. But now, he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to prepare himself.
 *
The light of the sun had already started to turn into the beautiful golden shade that heralded the end of a warm autumn day as you skittered into the library. You were a little bit late for your study session with Charlie, and the exertion from running all the way from your Common Room flushed your cheeks slightly red. Your friends just hadn’t let you go, all of them just as excited for what they called ‘your dragon date’ as you were. Not that you’d ever tell them that.
You found Charlie sitting at a table near the windows and your breath caught for a moment as you took in the warm light that washed around his frame; it was making his ginger hair glow like fire, the only vibrant speck of colour in this dusty old room full of books.
He had his nose buried in a big, leather-bound tome, his eyes darting over the pages frantically; you noticed how the tip of his tongue stuck out between his lips in concentration. He was so immersed in his reading, that he only noticed you approaching as you sat down next to him. Jumping in shock at your sudden appearance, he almost knocked over his ink bottle, only catching it at the last second before its dark, inky content could wash over the thin pages of his book.
“Oh, you’re here already, I didn’t even notice you until now.” His freckled face had flushed a shade darker than usual as he put his ink bottle back into its position and made room for you on the table.
“I’d rather say I’m here finally,” you responded, feeling a little bit guilty at making Charlie wait. “But I see that you started without me.”
He hurriedly closed the book. “No, I was just reading up on some facts about Welsh Greens so I have them sharp in my mind,” he explained, “in case you have questions, you know?”
It was only now that your eyes took in the numerous heaps of books piled up on your table. “First question,” you said as you ran your fingers over the backs of the tomes stacked on top of each other. “I thought the test was about dragons native to Europe and not every single one in existence,” you pulled out a particularly old looking book containing myths and fables, “and beyond.”
You silently counted the numbers of books Charlie had amassed and your eyes went wide. “Charlie, these must be all the books about dragons in the whole library,” you laughed, giggling at the flustered expression of the boy beside you.
“Well, not all the books,” he clarified sheepishly. “There are quite a few in the Restricted Section and then there’s the two I have up in my dorm but forgot to bring and- “
You cut off his rambling by gently touching his arm; he shut up almost instantly, glancing nervously down to where your hand was lying. “It’s alright, it was just a joke.”
“Of course,” Charlie muttered slightly embarrassed. What was wrong with him?
He watched as you pulled your notes from your bag; they were rather sparse compared to the almost three scrolls of parchment he had scribbled down himself.
“Where do you want to start?”
You hummed to yourself as you considered your choices. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread inside Charlie’s chest as you drew your lips into a pensive pout and tapped your index finger against it.
Finally, a neat stack of white flashcards, that lay hidden behind a book on Sea Serpents, caught your attention. You reached over Charlie and pulled them towards you.
Your mouth dropped open as you flicked through them; on every one of the laminated cards was an extensive profile of every kind of dragon imaginable. The descriptions were written out in a neat, accurate hand that looked nothing like the careless scrawl you’d seen on Charlie’s class notes.
But what took your breath away were the detailed drawings below the text. They were done by pencil and although they didn’t move like magical pictures often did, they were so lively as if they only waited to pounce off the paper and take into the air.
Charlie watched you apprehensively as your fingers traced the outline of what appeared to be a Swedish Short-snout. He felt his heart beat faster at the soft, admiring look in your eyes as you turned towards him.
“Did you do these yourself?”
He nodded in response. “It’s hard to find decent descriptions all in one place,” he explained quietly. “I don’t know how accurate the sketches are though; I’ve never seen a dragon in real life.”
You flashed him a radiant smile that had his heart rate pick up considerably. “I don’t care if they’re realistic; they’re brilliant!”
Encouraged by your excitement, he took the flashcards out of your hands and fanned them out, their blank backs facing you. “Then I’d suggest we start with them; pick one!”
Running the fingers along the cards twice, you finally settled on one and drew it out of his grasp. Charlie’s freckled face lit up as he saw which one you had chosen.
“The Ukrainian Ironbelly,” he exclaimed, “my favourite!”
All of his former shyness was suddenly forgotten; this was his prime discipline.
“The Ironbelly is native to the Ukraine, as its name suggests, obviously. It’s considered the largest dragon species in existence with an immense wingspan, long talons and scales that are said to be harder to pierce than steel. It’s name stems from the metallic grey colour of his underside and ever since one particular large specimen carried off a whole sailing ship in the late 18th century, they are under strict observation by wizarding authorities.”
You did your best to jot down the information Charlie dumped on you with impressive speed but there was no way you could keep up with his excited ramblings. So you resorted to listening to him as he lectured you about feeding habits, hunting methods and the average temperature of the flames an Ironbelly could produce.
He sighed wistfully as he paused for breath. “They’re amazing.”
You couldn’t hide your smile at his dreamy expression as you picked out your next card from the stack. “Okay, how about this one?”
The dragon it showed had ridges running along its back, ending in a nasty, arrow-shaped spike at the tip of its tail. It barred its teeth at you in a vicious snarl.
“That’s my favourite, the Hebridean Black,” he repeated his words from before, positively bouncing with energy this time around.  
You glanced at the card you two had just worked your way through. “I thought the Ukrainian Ironbelly was your favourite?” you teased him.
Charlie’s bouncing stopped instantly as he blushed bright red; you hadn’t meant to bring him down and felt sorry all of a sudden. So you propped the card against one of the book piles and turned to him.
“So, tell me more about it.”
Relieved to be able to tread on secure ground again, Charlie immediately recounted all the facts about one of the two dragon breeds native to the British Isles to you.
You continued in this fashion; your pulled a random card from the stash and Charlie would tell you everything he knew about it. He grew more animated with every new flashcard; as it turned out, every dragon you talked about was his favourite.
Seeing him so caught up in his favourite subject had a warmth spread in your chest and the smile on your lips never vanished even once. You had given up on writing Charlie’s words down about four cards ago and were merely staring at him explaining to you everything about these fantastic beasts that made up all of his dreams and musings.
His excitement quickly spread to you and you found yourself hanging onto his every word. But the more you were listening to him, the more you found your concentration shift from the dragons you were discussing to the boy beside you.
Your head propped on your hand, you admired how recounting scale colours and preferred environments of Romanian Longhorns brought a twinkle to his blue eyes and how his contagious laugh had you chuckle at the idea that people would confuse a Hungarian Horntail with a Norwegian Ridgeback.
The dimples forming in his freckled cheeks as he smiled at you were the exact reason why you had needed help with studying for this test in the first place. When you had talked about dragons in class, the eager smile and the slight scrunch of his nose as he scribbled down every single word Professor Kettleburn had to spare had left you breathless and unable to concentrate on anything but the butterflies dancing in your stomach.
The pile of flash cards had dwindled down until only a few more were left. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned around your next pick; the pictured showed a slender dragon directly from the front. It’s wings were outstretched and it seemed to be staring directly at you out of wide, pupil-less eyes. It was the only drawing so far that was coloured.
Your finger traced the subtle colour gradient rippling over its pearly scales as Charlie looked over to see which one was next.
“The Antipodean Opaleye,” he murmured, taking in your fascinated expression, “it’s singularly coloured scales and eyes are the stuff of legends.”
“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, trying to imagine how the scales of a real life Opaleye might shimmer in the sunlight.
“Not as beautiful as you,” Charlie suddenly blurted out. The words had fallen from his lips before he’d even had a chance to stop them.
Both of you froze as what he had said sank into your consciousness. You couldn’t believe your ears and were half sure that your mind must have played a trick on you.
You carefully glanced over to Charlie out of the side of your eyes; he looked incredulous and you could watch the colour of his face turning from ghostly white to a deep, vivid scarlet that clashed with his ginger hair in a matter of seconds.
Feeling your own cheeks starting to blush at the unexpected compliment, you desperately were looking for something to say to take the shock out of his widened eyes. But your mind wasn’t working properly anymore, so all you managed was a meek “Wow, uhm, thank you Charlie, that’s really sweet.”
It was apparent your words didn’t help his flustered situation as he covered his face with his hands and groaned “I can’t believe I said that out loud; I’m such an idiot.”
You didn’t know what to do to help him; you felt utterly flattered and confused at the same time. You thought about putting your hand on his arm to reassure him what he had said actually made you happy, but paused halfway, not quite daring to touch him again.
Still unsure of what to do, you got up and picked up one of the books he had used to illustrate the facts on his flashcards.
“I’d better get going, I guess,” you stammered without looking at the wretched boy sitting at the table next to you, “thank you so much for helping me, I think I’ll manage the rest on my own. Can I borrow that book though?”
He didn’t raise his face from his hands, but nodded anyways. You felt bad for leaving him like that, but your head was spinning and you desperately needed to sort out your thoughts.
But seeing Charlie’s slumped frame sitting at the table, all the bubbly excitement from before completely drained from him, tugged at your heartstrings so hard it almost hurt. So instead of turning around and leaving, you drew a deep breath, gathered your courage and stepped behind him, placing a light kiss on his cheek.
You could feel his shoulders tense and his breath hitch as your hair tickled his jaw and were glad he couldn’t see the deep blush on your cheeks as you straightened up, picked up your bag and his book and hurried out of the library with a racing heart, too afraid to turn around once more.
*
Charlie and you hadn’t spoken again after what had happened in the library. It had taken him quite some time to be able to think properly again after you had left; he had just sat at his table, hand on his cheek where you had kissed him, staring into nothingness, the peachy smell of your hair still hanging in the air.
Even though the thought of how soft your lips had felt on your cheek had been the most prominent thing in his mind, he had passed his test with flying colours; some things just couldn’t be erased from his mind, no matter what was happening around him.
He had just returned to his dorm after a particularly tiring Quidditch practise when he saw it lying on his bed, propped up against his head bord; the book you had borrowed from him to finish studying on your own.
For a brief moment, he wondered how you had managed to get it up here, when he noticed something white sticking out of the pages. Curious, he picked up the book and flicked it open.
Even without looking, he knew what chapter it was you had marked with whatever you had put in there; he had read this book more times than he could remember. It was the chapter on the Antipodean Opaleye; he grimaced at the memory of when he had last thought about this particular dragon.
A white flashcard was stuck between the pages, its laminated surface flashing as Charlie turned it around to read it.
A big smile stole onto his face as he saw the photograph of you laughing and waving at him that you had stuck on the front side. His eyes swept over the lines written in your feminine hand and his smile grew even wider as he read the ‘special characteristics’ section:
It has to be remarked, that this particular specimen was able to pass her test with full marks.
He was glad to hear his blurted out compliment hadn’t affected your marks in the end. He sighed wistfully, when he noticed the very small, scribbled note at the very end of the card; it wasn’t as neatly written as the rest, almost as if your hands had shaken while writing it down.
Greatest weakness: While not many weaknesses are recorded of this specimen, it is said that it can be easily tamed by ginger-haired dragon trainers in the making. Whether these rumours are true, remains to be determined.
Charlie’s mouth dropped open as he read the last section over and over again, not daring to believe what he thought they said. But after the tenth time, he finally allowed the butterflies that  had been fluttering in his stomach to spread into the rest of his body, his smile growing into the widest grin as he tucked the flashcard carefully into the book again.
This time, he was sure; this one was his favourite.
  Tagging: @weasleysandwheezes
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animezing-fandoms · 3 years
Text
The Gift She Wants
Masterlist
Warnings: None this is just pure fluff.
Relationships: Nalu
Summary: Natsu attempts to write Lucy a love letter for her birthday. 
-------------
Lucy’s never really enjoyed her birthday. It used to be fun when her mom was still around. But after her death, her birthday had always been ignored by her father. But that all changed once she joined Fairy Tail. Every morning on July 1st she’d walk into the guild to find a huge party set up for her. It was a sweet gesture even though the guild hall usually wound up trashed by the end of the day because of all the drinking and fighting that ensued. 
But that wasn’t the only thing that was the same every year. The presents that Lucy got from her friends were all the same. Gray would make her a little ice sculpture of a star that would melt after a day but she never had the heart to tell him. Gajeel did something similar with jewelry but it was made out of iron and really big and bulky so they were all too heavy to wear for long. Similarly, Erza would give her a sword or some other weapon that was too heavy for Lucy to lift. Juvia would offer her baked goods she made herself but for awhile Lucy was always cautious to eat them, knowing how jealous Juvia was about her friendship with Gray. Thankfully that wasn’t a problem anymore, and now her gift was one she was looking forward to along with the book from Levy and perfume from Mira that she got every year. There was only one gift she truly dreaded and that was from Natsu. 
Every year she hoped that he would give her something different, only to be proven wrong when he whisks her away on some dangerous job that leaves her exhausted, dirty, and bruised. The only good part about it was that she got to spend time with him, and have a little fun when she wasn’t fearing for her life. And as the years went on, she hoped that perhaps him taking her on these jobs alone meant that he would talk to her about things. Things that she knew he probably never thought about but that deep down, she dares to hope that he does.
So she thought she knew what to expect during her birthday party this year when he approached her, holding something behind his back. She took a deep breath, ready to see what job flyer he’d present her with only to find a book with a pink bow wrapped around it instead. 
“What’s this?” Lucy asks, surprised and cautiously optimistic. “Is it part of a job or-”
“No it’s not a job. It’s just a journal.” Natsu says. “I couldn’t figure out what to get you for your birthday this year so I asked Gildarts for advice and he told me I should get you something that you’ve been wanting to get or something you’d like so I thought I’d get you both!” 
Lucy was confused and touched at the same time. She was also relieved that for once she wouldn’t have to worry about getting hurt on her birthday! And it was a really sweet and thoughtful gift! She likes to write so he got her a journal...He really thought about it to get her something she’d enjoy! Is he starting to change? 
“Thank you so much Natsu!” Lucy exclaims, beaming with happiness as she holds the gift to her heart. “I love it!” 
She had no idea just how much she’d love it later.
--------------
After the party, she brought all the gifts she was able to carry back to her apartment with her and immediately unwrapped the bow on the journal to open it. 
To her surprise, there was already writing in it. Natsu’s writing. 
Her heart sunk. The last time he had written her something was a note telling her he was leaving for a year with Happy. And then the guild disbanded and she was all alone. He wasn’t leaving her again was he? 
With her heart pounding, she scanned the page, reading the words and bracing herself for heartbreak. But instead she found the opposite. 
Dear Lucy,
I hate writing and I’ve never written something like this before so I don’t know how good it’s gonna be but this is something I know you want to hear so I’m gonna try my best for you like I always do. I’m not good with words. Most of the things I say to you make you upset with me so I try to show how I feel about you with my actions instead of my words. And while I think that’s given you enough of an idea to know that I care about you, I don’t think you get how much I really do. So I guess I’ve got to be more clear and I figured since you love writing this is the best way to do it. 
You’re amazing. You’re so powerful, beautiful, and kind and you shine brighter than any star or dragon’s fire. I have no idea why you still hang around an idiot like me who doesn’t know how to treat you right but I hope the reason is because you feel the same way about me that I do about you. I’ve never had feelings like this before, so I’m sorry if I’ve frustrated you but I just don’t know anything about love aside from how I feel about you. Gramps and Gildarts used to lecture me on how great relationships are and how they hoped I’d fall in love and get married and have kids someday but I never wanted that because there wasn’t anyone I wanted to do that stuff with until you came into my life. 
It took me awhile to figure it out but now everything they told me about makes sense. I want to be with you Lucy, as more than just a friend. I know I don’t deserve you but I’m working hard to make you happy because that’s what you deserve. And I can tell that not knowing that has made you unhappy. So I’ve got to just be straight to the point and say it. I love you Lucy Heartfilia. I think that’s what you want to hear, so that’s what I’m giving you for your birthday.
~Natsu 
Lucy’s tears of joy were dripping onto the page so she quickly closes the book to keep her tears from washing away those sweet words. 
This was better than she could have ever imagined. And all she wanted was to run to Natsu and start this new chapter in their relationship together. Thankfully, knowing him, she didn’t have to go far. 
With tears dripping down her cheeks, she pulls back the curtain to her bedroom to find the man she loves and his blue cat in her room. She’d never been so happy to have them break into her apartment. 
“Lucy did you like the-Aw damnit, you’re crying!” Natsu exclaims, looking hurt and disappointed with himself. “I messed up again!” 
“What did you expect, you took relationship advice from Gildarts!” Happy chastises. “That guy can’t hold onto a woman, what does he know-” 
“No you didn’t!” Lucy reassures him. “Natsu it was perfect! I love it! I love you too!” She exclaims. 
Before Natsu has a chance to process what she said, Lucy dashes across the room, tossing the journal onto her bed before throwing her arms around his neck as he catches her in his before she kisses him. 
Happy’s jaw drops and Natsu’s eyes go wide for a moment, surprised by her affection before he returns the kiss, closes his eyes and moves his hands along her back to hold her closer to him as he relishes in this new feeling. 
She brings her hands up to his face to run her thumbs along his cheekbones while his hands settle on her hips as they gently pull apart. 
A blush forms on Lucy’s face as she realizes what exactly she’s done and is immediately embarrassed by how forward she was being. 
“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry that probably came out of nowhere and I should have asked first-” Lucy rambles before Natsu’s chuckle pulls her gaze back to his face and when he sees the warm look in his eyes and the smirk on his lips, she instantly relaxes. 
“It’s fine Lucy. I was hoping you’d kiss me. I just hope it was a good kiss, considering I’ve never done that before...” Natsu admits shyly. 
“It’s okay. I’ve never kissed anyone before either.” Lucy tells him. “This is new for me too. We’ll figure it out together, just like we do for everything else.” 
She rests her head on his chest and Natsu holds her close and rests his cheek on top of her head. 
“Well you know a lot more about this stuff than I do. So you’ll have a lot to teach me.” Natsu admits and Lucy laughs. 
“Well you gave me a very thoughtful gift, so clearly you’ve already got some idea of what to do.” Lucy says. 
“You just mean so much to me.” Natsu says. “I’ve never felt this way before for anyone else and I doubt I ever will. You deserve someone who can make you happy and give you everything you want.” 
“Well if everything you wrote in that letter is true, then I have no doubt that person is you.” Lucy says. “I just want one more thing.” 
“What is it?” Natsu asks, pulling back to look at her. “Whatever it is I’ll give it to you.” 
“Just tell me you love me. I know you wrote it but I want to hear you say it.” Lucy requests. 
Natsu smiles, more than happy to fulfill that wish. 
“I love you Lucy.” Natsu says and fresh tears spring from Lucy’s eyes as a result. 
“I love you too Natsu.” She says before kissing him again. 
The sounds of Happy sniffling pull them out of the moment. 
“What’s wrong little buddy? Are you crying because you’re happy for us?” Natsu asks. 
“I’m so happy for both of you!” Happy sniffles. “But I can’t believe that someone as dense as you managed to get a girlfriend before me!” He wails and the new couple laughs. 
Yep. Definitely the best birthday ever. And now Lucy couldn’t wait to see what Natsu would do for her next year. 
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attllhak · 3 years
Text
I 100% blame @kagrenacs entirely for this. This is your fault. You gave me Ideas.
Also, @tortilla-of-courage I promised I’d tag you in this. Here’s that crack fic I talked about where Mario is Malon’s step-father.
Behold, a crack fic.
----------------------
Link had been dating Malon officially for about three months when the letter came.
Link had arrived at the ranch about the same time as the postman left, having just got back home from another adventure trying to help clear out a temple that had been invaded by monsters that the regular soldiers were struggling with. He went so Sheik wouldn’t, as apparently Zelda was needed at the castle for something else.
Malon was waving goodbye at the postman as Link and Epona trotted up, the boy leaning to the side of the saddle to blink at his girlfriend.
Epona snorted and nudged Malon’s head to get her attention.
“Oh what, Epona!” Malon laughed, reaching up to stroke her hand along the mare’s face. “And that means,”
Link waved at her with a smile.
“Link!” Malon grinned, coming around Epona’s side to meet him. “You’re home!”
Link nodded as he leaned down to kiss her hello, feeling much better now that he was back at the ranch, even if he was still bruised and achy and very possibly bleeding. Malon almost made him feel the way the forest did, like he was home.
He swung over and dismounted the horse, smiling as Malon pulled him into a hug.
Malon then pushed him away and spun him around. Link was confused for about one second before,
“Are you bleeding?”
Link shrugged, not entirely sure himself.
Malon made a strangled noise and then she was dragging him inside. “Honestly, Link. What part of ‘be careful’ do you not understand? You know, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t show up here bleeding sometimes,”
Link just smiled at the back of her head, not affected by her berating in the least. She’d lectured him on this before, and would do so again in the future, and he knew she wasn’t as mad as she pretended to be. At this point her yelling was as much standard fare as her patching him up was.
Link hopped up to sit on the kitchen table, watching as Malon dropped the letter on the table next to him before digging out the first aid kit she kept stocked in the room.
In lieu of anything else to look at, Link glanced down at the letter next to him. There was a red seal on the back, not dissimilar to the ones Zelda used when writing letters, though instead of the Hylian crest this seal had the image of a mushroom on it. Flipping it over saw words in neat curling letters in an alphabet Link didn’t recognize. This wasn’t surprising, as up until a year or so ago he still struggled with written Hylian. He set the letter down when he heard a door open in a different part of the house.
“Malon!” Talon shouted through the house. “Did you know Epona was out front? I thought Link had taken her,” he stopped when he turned into the kitchen and saw his daughter standing up with a first aid kit and the mentioned adventurer on his table. Link waved. “Link! You’re back!”
Link nodded, smiling at Talon as Malon opened the first aid kit on the table and started sorting through the contents.
“Link just got back a minute ago,” Malon informed her father as she had Link pull off his tunic. “He’s bleeding still, so I’m going to patch him up before he fills us in on his latest adventure,” she paused, then picked up the letter that she’d received when Link arrived. “Oh, and we got a letter from mom,”
She handed over the letter to her dad, Link watching the paper with curiosity. Malon’s mother? She’d never mentioned her mother to him before, and he’d never pried. He assumed her mother was dead, since she wasn’t around and no one talked about her, but he was also pretty sure dead people didn’t send letters. Pretty sure, not totally sure. Considering what he’d already seen on his adventures, he wasn’t ruling it out as a possibility.
Talon grumbled as he opened it, Malon pulling Link’s attention to her as she went about patching him up as best she could. A few minutes passed, Link occasionally hissing as Malon applied a disinfectant, and then Malon declared him patched up, wandering over to look at the letter over her father’s shoulder.
“What does it say?” She asked, crowding him as Link shrugged back into his tunic.
“It’s an invitation,” Talon handed it to her to read herself. “Some kind of Star Carnival or something, happens every couple of years. She’s invited us to come,” 
Link slowly raised his hand, then waved when he noticed no one was paying attention to him. Talon looked up, then nudged Malon to get her attention. Link waved his hands at the letter then at the two of them, then threw his hands up in confusion. True, he could have signed, but he only thought of that afterwards.
“Oh, right,” Malon bounced over to sit next to him to hold the letter where he could see it. He looked at it, then at her. Malon scoffed. “It’s an invitation from my mother to come to the Star Carnival in the Mushroom Kingdom,”
Link blinked, then sighed ‘Mushroom Kingdom’ back at her with his face twisted up in confusion.
Malon blinked at him, then snapped her fingers. “Oh right, I never told you about my mother, did I? She lives in a neighboring kingdom off to the west, and her and dad had a bit of a falling out a few years after I was born. Dad and Ingo moved to Hyrule, and mom remarried. I have a half sister over there now,”
Link nodded slowly, then waved at the letter again.
“Oh, mom will occasionally invite us back for festivals and stuff. It’s her way of keeping up with us, while respecting that dad moved away for a reason,” she paused, then her head snapped up and turned to him so quickly he had to lean back in order to not get hit. “You should come with us!”
Malon blinked at him, wide eyed and grinning. Link couldn’t possibly say no. He nodded.
Malon made a giddy sound and wrapped Link in a hug, then slid off the table to hand the letter to her father. She came back to grab his hands and pull him off the table too.
“Oh, you’ll love it, Link! The Star Carnival is great, there’s all sorts of games, and events, and everyone comes out for it,” Malon chatteled off, dragging Link with her so she could keep talking at him while she finished up her chores.
Link completely forgot he was supposed to tell Zelda about the temple.
About a week later Link found himself next to Malon in an oddly mushroom shaped carriage her mother sent to collect them for the carnival. Apparently this was normal for these trips, but the fact the carriage had nothing to pull it but still moved confused Link. According to Malon this was how most things worked, but he wasn’t convinced he liked that.
The trip was uneventful, except how Link kept jumping every time the carriage bumped. The little mushroom person (“He’s a Toad, they’re the race that makes up most of the Mushroom Kingdom’s people,” Malon told him) kept up a steady stream of talk, pointing out everything he saw. Link was very glad he’d managed to convince Malon to let him take one of his swords and the mirror shield with him, he felt much more comfortable armed.
His discomfort was overshadowed, however, when the site of the carnival came into view. A big red and white striped tent, with booths and stalls set up throughout the whole grounds. There were people streaming all through the area, humans, toads and some other things as well. Link found it incredible, and Malon had to pull him back into the carriage before he fell out the window.
Eventually, the carriage came to a stop at the entrance to the grounds and the three Hyruleans stepped out. There were a few long moments as Link looked around in awe, and confusion, at some of the things he was seeing. There were moving paintings positioned around the grounds showing some guy who was mostly hat and blaring his voice across the area. Malon called these moving paintings ‘video screens’, and that they were looking at something happening in a different part of the carnival. Link didn’t understand that, but they were moving along fast enough that he didn’t linger on it.
He was snapped out of looking at some star shaped pastries at a loud squeal, head snapping up and on alert. He relaxed when Malon laughed and waved in response.
“Malon!” A higher pitched voice called, belonging to a taller woman with bright blonde hair wearing a very big pink dress and long white gloves. She had a crown on her head. “You made it!”
“Of course I made it,” Malon laughed as she hugged the other woman. “Why would I miss this?”
Malon then switched to hugging and greeting another woman closer to her age, also wearing a crown but dressed in blue, her hair covering her right eye. A little chubby star creature floated next to her and waved.
Link blinked and watched the exchange, hovering off to the side.
“Oh!” Malon abruptly remembered him and turned to tug him up. “Link, I want you to meet my mother, Queen Peach, and my half sister Rosalina. Mom, Rosy, this is my boyfriend Link,”
Link managed to get himself out of his ‘Malon’s mom is queen???!?’ confusion loop long enough to bow, trying to be polite.
 “Oh no, please don’t. No one has bowed to me in a very long time, and it’s weird to see now,” Queen Peach giggled lightly as Link straightened up, the tips of his ears turning red. “You didn’t mention you had a boyfriend,”
“Uh, surprise!” Malon waved her hands as she gave her mother and sister a sheepish grin. “I have a boyfriend! His name is Link,” 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Rosalina extended her hand, and Link took it to shake. 
Link nodded and grinned, then signed back ‘it’s nice to meet you too’ at her when she dropped his hand. Both women blinked at him and for a second he thought he’d done something wrong. He slowly lowered his hands and blinked at them too. Maybe they didn’t speak Hylian sign? He’d never encountered someone who couldn’t understand him, but outside of Hyrule it wasn’t impossible.
“Oh,” Malon jumped in, waving at him. “Link is mute, so he uses sign to talk. I should have mentioned that,”
“Oh,” Queen Peach brightened up again. “Of course. Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Link. I hope you enjoy the carnival,” she signed as she spoke, and Link blinked at her, then matched her grin.
Link nodded happily, letting her know it wasn’t like anything he’d encountered before, but that he was enjoying things so far. 
Queen Peach offered to show them around, which Malon accepted for them, and they went about walking through the grounds while the queen pointed out different attractions. Most of these involved events she called minigames, though a few featured other attractions. Apparently minigames were part of a big event called a Party, which was a competition people could compete in for prizes. Malon had very quietly dissuaded him from participating, as apparently she was worried a few of the minigames might mess with his trauma if he were to play them. Also, apparently Hylians weren’t as durable as the people of the Mushroom Kingdom.
“Oh!” Queen Peach bounced over to one of the video screens and grinned. “It looks like a Party is starting!”
Wandering up to join the toadstool queen, Link blinked up at the moving paintings on the screen, still confused as to how that worked. The man who was mostly hat introduced a group of four, a stout man in red with blue overalls with a very big mustache named Mario, a brunette woman in a yellow dress named Daisy, a stal-like creature that resembled the creatures Malon told him were koopahs who was introduced as Dry Bones, and a tall lanky man in purple who introduced himself as Waluigi. Queen Peach was grinning, and Malon was laughing a little at this.
Link tapped Malon’s shoulder and asked her who those people were.
“Oh, well Mario is mom’s husband, and Daisy is his brother’s wife. Dry Bones is a friend, I think, and Waluigi just shows up for events like this,” Malon explained to him, pointing as she did. “It can be hard to keep track of who’s friendly and who isn’t all the time, things change so often,”
“They don’t change often,” Queen Peach giggled. “The only time anything changes is when Bowser kidnaps me, then we’re briefly enemies, but we go back to being friends when Mario comes to rescue me,”
Link blinked at her, face scrunched up. She talked like this was normal. Apparently, this was quickly explained to him, it was. It was just the relationship those three had. Link wasn’t sure he’d ever understand that concept, but was willing to push it aside for the moment.
They stood and watched the Party, and Link was glad Malon had encouraged him not to try any of the minigames. She was right about a few of them not meshing well with his trauma. He’d actually had to turn away during one because of how much it reminded him of fighting Volvagia in the Fire Temple. It was pretty easy for Malon to work him down again, and he was ever so grateful for her and her patience with him, but they didn’t turn back until after the minigame was over.
Once the Party was over, Queen Peach eagerly dragged them over to something called a warp pad in order to greet her husband when he got there. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one.
Already waiting at the pad was a very large individual. He looked vaguely like a koopah, but was much bigger, and his shell was studded with spikes. Helpfully, Link’s mind supplied him with the theory that the koopah might be like the Zora, with the ruler being much bigger than the rest of their people, and so this might be their king.
He was right, he’d soon learn.
What had him stopping dead was the man next to him. Almost eight feet tall, bright red hair, black armor. The man was distinctly Gerudo, and looked identical to Ganondorf. Link reached out and grabbed Malon’s arm, pointing out the man to her and signing as fast as she could keep up. Malon had his shoulders in her hands, and was trying to talk to him slowly, the same way she did when working him down from a panic attack or a spike in anxiety. Maybe he was freaking out, he certainly didn’t feel calm. But Ganondorf shouldn’t be here, Zelda’s father had him executed. He shouldn’t be alive, let alone here.
“Is something wrong?” Queen Peach popped up in Link’s peripheral vision, but he was too busy trying not to panic to respond to her.
Thankfully, he had Malon.
“Kind of, Link’s had some, uh, adventures that have messed with his head a little. Bowser’s friend over there happens to look like a man named Ganondorf who tried to kill him more than once, with quite a bit of effort,” Malon rubbed Link’s arms as she spoke, glancing back at him every once in a while. “He’s a little freaked out to see someone who looks so similar, even if this can’t be Ganondorf, since Queen Zelda’s father, the late king, had him executed for trying to kill the royal family and steal Hyrule’s crown about ten or so years ago.”
“Oh, I hadn’t realized,” Queen Peach paused, glancing back at Bowser and maybe-Ganondorf, then back to the two of them. “If you’ll give me a moment,”
She ducked out, and in the meantime Link managed to wrangle his breathing under control. Eventually, he felt confident enough in himself to not immediately try to stab maybe-Ganondorf, but he did pull the mirror shield onto his arm. He felt better when he had it out.
Link specifically kept his shield between himself and maybe-Ganondorf as they approached, Malon keeping a hand on his arm. The conversation petered out as they made it up.
Maybe-Ganondorf clapped his hands together, which had Link pulling up the shield and tensing. The maybe-Ganondorf paused, then spread his hands.
“I understand that someone who looked like me tried to hurt you in the past?” The man, who even sounded like Ganondorf, asked. Link was then hit again with the fact that in this timeline Ganondorf never actually tried to kill him, and even when he had it was both his past and future for a while. He nodded, not willing to dwell on the details of his seven year sleep and subsequent return to childhood. The man grimaced. “I am truly sorry then. My name is Greg, I am a good, friend, of Bowser’s, and I can assure you I am not the same man who wanted to see you come to harm,”
Link narrowed his eyes, but did peek a little further over his shield.
There was a long, tense moment where Link just looked over Greg, trying to decide how he felt about him. After several heartbeats where Link found nothing but honesty, he nodded and lowered the shield some. He didn’t put it away however.
Greg grinned, nodding back.
“You can probably put the shield away now,” Queen Peach offered gently.
Link just tightened his grip on the reflective defense and pulled it closer to himself.
“I don’t think that’s happening,” Malon said gently, squeezing his arm some. “It’s just, well, I’m sure it just makes him feel a little better, what with the situation and all. I wouldn’t be surprised if he never got better around male Gerudo,” she tried to laugh.
“What’s a Gerudo?” Greg asked.
Link dropped the shield to his side and made a face.
(---)
The rest of the day was spent being introduced to a few others of Queen Peach’s friends, and then later avoiding Greg as best he could, and even watching Malon play some of the minigames with her sister.
Link felt a little bad about avoiding Greg, but he looked so much like Ganondorf that he really didn’t trust himself not to hurt the man. Better to just avoid him.
They were invited to spend the night at Peach’s castle, after which they’d return to the carnival the next day.
Somehow, between meeting Mario and crashing for the night, the plumber convinced him to agree to a race.
Link didn’t know how to use any of the racing machines they had.
He spent a great deal of time, at length, bemoaning his impulsivity to Malon, who eventually got tired enough with him to track down her stepfather and get him to teach Link to use one of the machines. Mario, to his credit, was surprisingly understanding and more than helpful.
It didn’t take long to decide Link would do better on a bike than in a kart.
Link also needed to help repair a wall later.
These are related.
“Alright,” Mario rubbed his hands together as he coached Link through the basics. “This-a thing here? That’s-a the brakes. You pull on-a those to slow down. This-a piece you twist, and that makes-a you go! You see?”
Link nodded slowly, pulling on the lever for the brakes and twisting the handle.
“Okay, let’s-a do one lap around the track, and-a see how you do,” Mario nodded back waving at the track. “Let’s-a go!”
Link gave a sharp nod, taking a deep breath as he did. This would be his fifth try at this.
Malon gave him a pair of thumbs up from the sidelines, grinning at him. He was glad she was more confident in him than he was.
He slowly twisted the handle, the machine puttering to life (a phrase Link was distinctly uncomfortable with) and eased forward gently. After a few moments he was increasing speed around the oval track, getting more comfortable with using the bike. He avoided the jumps he could, but managed to not wipe out on the ones he couldn’t. Slowing to a stop in front of Malon and Mario, he felt distinctly proud of himself for not crashing.
Malon jumped up from where she was sitting, clapping happily as she bounced over to hug him.
“You didn’t crash that time!” She grinned. “You’re getting better!”
‘I am,’ Link grinned back, a group of bees set loose in his chest alongside the happiness.
“You’re-a doing so much better! Now, let’s-a maybe think about getting better with the jumps, hm?” Mario clapped as he approached.
Link nodded, signing his response slowly. Mario knew Mushroom Kingdom Sign, but not Hylian Sign, and the two had some differences. This meant communication was slow going, which was partly why Malon was there.
They spent a few more hours, and a lot more crashing, practicing the jumps. Apparently there were a lot of jumps in these races.
By the time they decided to take a break for lunch, Link was covered in bruises but could also reasonably be trusted to not crash every time he attempted a jump, which was much better than he was when they started.
“Oh my! What happened to you?” Peach gasped, looking over the group as they arrived to join the queen and the rest of the family for lunch.
‘Learned the jumps,’ Link signed at her, grinning maybe a bit wider than he needed to.
“The bruises were self-inflicted,” Malon told everyone, dragging Link over to sit between Talon and Rosalina with her. “He’s gotten very good at crashing. And at not crashing, but that skill’s taking longer,”
Rosalina started giggling. “Well, it seems we all have a type,”
Link looked at her in confusion while he let Malon set up plates for them.
“What do you mean?” Peach asked.
Rosalina pointed at her mother. “You married dad, who is prone to extreme spots. And turns sports that aren’t extreme sports into extreme sports. I have never seen someone make golf a full contact sport other than him,” she turned her finger to Malon. “Malon has brought home a boy who is firstly more than willing to participate in said extreme sports, and, Mal you said he works for your Queen, right?”
Malon nodded. “He’s technically part of the royal guard, but really he’s just sent out to go deal with monsters when Her Majesty can’t do it herself. He comes back bleeding a lot,” she sent him a halfhearted glare. He smiled innocently in response.
“Right,” Rosalina nodded. “He’s prone to come back bleeding. And the last time I saw Sammy, she was also bleeding and bruised because she got in a fight with a robot that nearly kicked her, erm, butt,” she cleared her throat and paused until she got a nod from her mother, then continued. “Right, so, my point is we have a type, and it’s the same one,”
“And that type is?” Malon asked.
“People who are prone to getting hurt,”
Link felt mildly like he should be offended by that, but Malon was just nodding along so he decided to drop it. It wasn’t like he could argue, after all.
“Oh, is your girlfriend coming?” Malon asked, handing Link a plate but focusing on her sister.
Link didn’t know what some of the things on his plate were, and lightly poked at one of the mushrooms. This is why he decided to let Malon grab food for him.
“She should be, she told me she’d try at least,” Rosalina nodded. “But, well, you know how busy she can be sometimes. Her job doesn’t allow her a lot of free time,”
Malon nodded. “I get that. It can be hard dating someone who spends so much time away getting in fights,”
She gave Link a side eye and he paused halfway into a bite. Was she mad at him? Or was this one of those joking jab things? He couldn’t quite tell the difference yet. She didn’t seem like she was mad at him. Maybe she was trying to relate to her sister? Wait, what did her sister’s girlfriend do that he’d be a comparison?
He figured he’d ask.
Apparently Sammy was a mercenary (“She fights things for money,” Malon told him. “Kind of like you do, but you work for the Queen and she works for herself,”), and that meant she spent a lot of time away and then coming back injured. Like Link did.
“You’d probably get along with her really well,” Malon offered, subtly adding more of the thing he’d already cleared off his plate to his portion. “You can bond over killing things and getting hurt and worrying your girlfriends about the fact that you’re out killing things and getting hurt all alone,”
Link frowned at her and narrowed his eyes. The worst part was that he couldn’t even argue, she was right. He did spend a lot of time killing things and getting hurt and worrying her, and he did do most of it alone.
That thought sort of made his chest ache. He wouldn’t be alone if he still had Navi, but he hadn’t been able to find her yet. He didn’t want to sour the atmosphere though, so he pushed that thought to the side and shoved Malon’s shoulder in retaliation.
Malon shoved him back, laughing, and Link didn’t bother fighting the grin on his face. It was moments like this that made the trauma and the longing easier to deal with.
They spent some more time practicing the jumps for the race Link had gotten himself roped into and introducing him to the ‘power ups’, and then wandered around the festival grounds until dinner, where they retired to the castle. Link found out quickly that the power ups were made with people way more durable than him in mind. A conversation started about finding an item or something that might help protect him a bit.
Malon had pulled out a health potion she insisted Link drink to heal up the bruises he’d acquired when they heard the, whirring? Link didn’t know what to make of that sound, but he did know he should figure it out.
Which is how Link ended up carefully crossing the entryway of the castle, eyes on the front door, Malon frustrated and following behind him.
Rosalina came barrelling down a stairwell just as Link got to the door, startling him.
“Don’t mind Link,” Malon rolled her eyes. “He’s just never heard the sound of a ship landing before,”
Ship?
“So that was her ship I saw!” Rosalina pushed past Link, who made a strangled noise as she did, and ran out the door.
Link followed, hand on his sword, just in case, and froze.
Someone was standing on the bridge to the castle, wearing dark orange armor and standing easily as tall as a gerudo, maybe taller. Link couldn’t make out much more from that, since the armor covered them head to toe, and their helmet covered their entire head and face. It also looked shinier than any armor he’d ever seen before.
This person caught Rosalina when she threw herself at them, lifting her up and spinning them both around. A sort of mechanical laugh came from the armored person.
Link turned to Malon.
“That’s Samus, Rosy’s girlfriend,” Malon explained. “Come on, let’s go say hi!”
Malon headed down the bridge to where Samus had set Rosalina down. Link stayed where he was, the Luma that followed Rosalina around coming up to float next to him. Luma yawned, and Link offered it a small smile. They must have been getting ready for bed when Samus arrived.
“Link!” He turned at Malon’s shout, seeing her wave at him. “Come meet Samus!”
Samus had pulled off her helmet, revealing tied back blonde hair and pale skin. So, not gerudo, just tall.
He offered Luma a sympathetic shrug and wandered over.
“Link, this is Samus,” Malon waved between them as Link came up. “Samus, this is my boyfriend, Link. He’s mute, so he speaks using sign, but he can hear you just fine,”
“Hello, Link,” Samus offered him a smile, signing in very choppy Hylian Sign as she spoke, and then offered her hand to shake. “It’s nice to meet you,”
Link signed slowly as he replied, figuring Samus might appreciate it, and then accepted her handshake.
They didn’t stay standing there for long since it was already getting quite dark. Link offered to help Samus move in some of her things, since she was apparently staying for a few weeks between jobs, which is how he found himself pulling on his golden gauntlets to pick up a very heavy suitcase to carry inside. Samus had the other very heavy case, and Malon and Rosalina helped carry in the rest of it.
Once Samus was settled Malon resumed her crusade to get Link to drink the rest of the health potion.
(---)
The next time Link ran into Samus was right before his race. They hadn’t found something to help with the power ups yet, though he did receive a racing suit to wear in case he crashed.
He stopped mid-sign as something heavy dropped round his neck.
He turned to look down at the item, some kind of medallion on a chain. There was some kind of bird on it, and some kind of writing he couldn’t read, though he didn’t expect to be able to. It didn’t feel magical, but it did sort of, hum in his hands.
He turned around to blink up at the person who dropped in on him. Which turned out to be Samus.
She wasn’t wearing the armor, instead wearing just a skin-tight blue outfit that showed off her abs and the muscles in her arms. She had a lot of muscle. Link started doubting his conclusion that she wasn’t somehow part gerudo.
“I heard you were worried about being durable enough to compete,” Samus explained when Link made a confused motion at the medallion. “That should help,”
‘How?’ Link asked.
“It’s an old bit of tech I picked up but haven’t needed in a long while,” Samus explained.
Link spent a moment finger spelling out that word and trying to remember where he heard it before.
“It’s like magic, but not magic,” Rosalina appeared to lean behind Samus, who towered over her even when she was standing straight. “Sammy you need to remember they don’t even have video screens in Hyrule, you’re going to confuse him,”
“Oh,” Samus blinked, looking between them. “Uh, sorry,”
Link waved her off and assured her it was fine, and then asked for more clarification on the item she just gave him.
“I figured it would solve your durability issue,” Samus explained. “For the race,”
Link nodded, turning it over in his hands for a minute. He tucked it under the suit, the metal oddly warm despite having only just put it on, and thanked Samus for the help.
She promised to be cheering him on, which was met by a huff and light shove from Rosalina, who was also racing.
The medallion did help. It didn’t quite put him on par with the native residents of the Mushroom Kingdom, but it did keep him from getting seriously hurt by some of the more extreme power ups.
Seriously, some of them were just insane.
He didn’t win, but he did come about middle of the pack, which he was quite proud of.
Samus let him keep the medallion, since he could probably get more use out of it than she would, and then Rosalina dragged them all out to get some star pastries to celebrate the fact she won.
Samus ended up far more confident in her Hylian Sign by the end of the day, mostly due to her and Link being dragged about the faire by their girlfriends as they competed in a few minigames. Samus had asked for some help practicing when she noticed Link was a bit uncomfortable with some of the minigames.
Link decided he liked Samus.
He especially liked it when their girlfriends got back and Rosalina had fake-whispered to Malon “Oh no, they’re teaming up!” and all four of them started laughing.
They stayed for a week, the length of the carnival, but they did have to get back to Hyrule. It didn’t help that Sheik had likely tried dealing with everything himself, and as such the kingdom had to deal with the Queen slipping out to fight things.
Once they’d said goodbye, with promises to write between Malon and her family, they climbed back into the little carriage thing they’d arrived in and Link turned to Malon immediately.
‘You’ll bring me with you next time too, right?’
Malon laughed, and agreed to bring him with the next time they were invited.
Neither of them had fully expected Link to get a letter a few weeks after they got home, but sure enough, it was his name written in the alphabet used by the Mushroom Kingdom.
It was decided that they should probably teach him how to read that alphabet after that.
The small package he received from Rosalina a few years later with her and Malon’s grandmother’s engagement ring after he’d proposed with a little note that the ring he’d found was way too flashy was probably to be expected. Even he and Malon had agreed on that the day before. They did switch out the rings, and though the old Queen’s ring was still a bit fancy for a farm girl, it wasn’t going to accidentally blind someone.
He figured he’d pass off Queen Peach’s offer to plan their wedding to Zelda, who had also already decided she wanted to plan it.
Let people who actually knew what they were doing plan it, he’d focus on making sure he was mostly uninjured come the day of. He’d just help with the invitation list.
This, he learned later, was a very smart call.
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