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spencereliotwinchester · 3 years

Text

That Summer Storm Chapter Two

Title: That Summer Storm Chapter Two

Chapter Title: Once Upon a Midnight Dreary

Author: Kat

Reader Gender: Female

Word Count: 2k

Series Summary:

Jensen kept his eyes on the floor, but nodded his understanding. He was too scared to look up into the guard’s face; he didn’t even trust his voice not to break. He didn’t look up until he heard the click-lock sound of his door. The room was very small. Along one wall was a set of metal-framed bunk beds. The far wall had a small desk with a stool. Opposite the bunk beds was a toilet and sink.

He sat down on the bottom bunk, head in his hands. I shouldn’t be here, I’m only fifteen, the thought ran through his head on a loop. This was not how his life was supposed to go. Jensen rubbed his knuckles into his forehead, hard. The sobs of his mother would haunt him. It had been all he could hear the entire van ride back to juvenile hall.

Warnings: There will be feelings!

Chapter Warnings: Solitary Madness, anxiety attack

Catch Up HERE

A/N: Little bit longer of a chapter. Next one may be a bit shorter. Please please please reblog or let me know what you think!!

Character: Jensen Ackles

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Tags:

@iwantthedean@lyarr24@janicho88@deans-baby-momma@sandlee44@mrswhozeewhatsis@blacktithe7@torn-and-frayed@the-jette-blog@supernatural-jackles@sacriceria@siospins@negans-lucille-tblr@eve-loves-apples@myinconnelly1@mariekoukie6661@stoneyggirl2@thisisallicansay@jjrp-obsessed67@amyzombie1013@mrskcreeves95

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The door click-locked shut and Jensen pressed himself into the corner of the room. He was hyperventilating and failing to calm himself down. Pressing his entire side into the cool wall and squeezing his eyes shut, Jensen tried to block out everything except the feeling of the wall. It barely registered that the door to the room opened and shut again.

“What are you doing?” It was the same voice that came to his rescue out in the yard, though it sounded reproachful. Padalecki moved around the room for awhile, pacing, then Jensen heard the top bunk bed creak. “Don’t let Roger catch you like that. He’ll throw your ass in solitary-”

“There’s too much space!” Jensen gasped. He slid down the wall, crouching in the corner.

“Jesus, did Tito dose you or something?” The bed creaked again, then there were footsteps coming toward Jensen.

Jensen started trembling, thinking back to Padalecki’s words: “he’s mine.” He’d heard stories about detention centers, stories that made his skin crawl. Now here he was, about to live through it. Instead of the rough hands Jensen had expected, a blanket was wrapped around him, tightly. The pressure around his body let him relax, finally. Jensen opened his eyes and was met with the hazel-brown eyes of his roommate.

Padalecki was tall, taller even than Jensen. He was lean and well built though. His eyes were hard, though, unkind, which was completely unmatching his actions. Padalecki had the blanket in his hands, pulling it as tightly as he could around Jensen’s body.

“Chill out, will you, Jensen? Fucking stupid name, by the way,” Padalecki said, rolling his eyes. He tied the blanket and moved away from Jensen, climbing back up to the top bunk.

Jensen moved to his bunk, slowly. He curled up as close to the wall as he could. He pulled the blanket tightly around him.

“It was many and many a year ago, in a kingdom by the sea, that a maiden there lived whom you may know by the name of Annabel Lee; and this maiden she lived with no other thought than to love and be loved by me,” Padalecki’s voice was soft as it drifted from the top bunk. “I was a child and she was a child, in this kingdom by the sea, but we loved with a love that was more than love - I and my Annabel Lee - With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven coveted her and me.”

Padalecki read the entire poem in his soft, calming voice. By the end, Jensen’s breathing had finally returned to normal and he felt better than he had since he’d been arrested.

“Thanks, Padalecki,” Jensen whispered; he was unsure if Padalecki had even heard him.

“You can call me Jared,” came a few minutes later.

--May 1996--

Life at Travis County Correctional became a mundane routine for Jensen. Monday through Friday they had school and on the weekends they had more recreational time, but the schedule never deviated. Jensen and Jared had even fallen into a nightly routine, at nine pm they were sent to their room and had one hour of quiet time before lights out. They would get into their respective bunks and Jared would quietly read from his one and only possession: The Complete Tales & Poems of Edgar Allan Poe. They’d gone through the whole book at least three times, but neither of them seemed to care.

Late one night, Jensen was suddenly startled awake by the sound of laughing. It started as a low snicker but quickly worked itself up into shrieks. Jensen scrambled out of bed to find Jared sitting at the desk. He turned quickly and locked eyes with Jensen. There was no mirth in his laughter and his eyes were black and dangerous looking. Jensen’s heart was suddenly in his throat and he backed up until he came into contact with the door.

“Jared?” Jensen’s voice quivered in fear.

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious of forgotten lore - While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door…” Jared’s voice was suddenly smooth, even, and it scared Jensen even more. Jared pointed a finger at Jensen, indicating to him to continue.

“‘Tis some visitor,’” Jensen squeaked, but his voice failed him. He turned and pressed the emergency call button that was located to the right of the door. Jared started laughing again, low and evil. He was still laughing when Barney, the night guard, came through the door. Jensen threw himself into the corner.

“There better be someone…” Barney’s voice died out as his flashlight fell on Jared, still laughing maniacally.

Barney called into his radio for backup and it was quick to arrive. They carted Jared off, but Barney stayed behind. He was a middle-aged black man, with kind brown eyes, and a little extra weight around his middle. His radio crackled, but Jensen couldn’t understand a word that was said.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said, helping Jensen to his feet.

“What?” Jensen’s brow furrowed.

“We gotta toss the room for drugs.”

Barney silently led Jensen through a labyrinth of dark hallways then through a door marked “Pod S.” A guard at a desk glanced up at Barney, nodded, and went back to his book. Barney prodded Jensen through a barred gate. They were now in a dead-end hallway with doors on either side. Barney opened door number one and lightly pushed Jensen inside. Barney gave him a sad, almost guilty look, before shutting the door. It click-locked with a finality that scared Jensen.

The only reason he wasn’t shrouded in complete darkness was the window in the door. The room he was in was small, much smaller than his normal cell. Everything was padded and the only furniture in the room was a small cot on the floor. A low rumble of thunder startled him and he wished he were back in his normal cell. Within minutes the building shook and shuddered from violent crackling booms of thunder. Jensen curled himself on the cot and wrapped the blanket around himself as tightly as he could.

He couldn’t sleep with the raging storm outside and his heart was still hammering from what had happened with Jared. Jensen looked around the padded room. Another clash of thunder. Jensen wondered what time it was, he wondered how long they were going to leave him here, and he wondered why they’d left him here. Jensen closed his eyes and started humming, trying to drown out the noise of the storm raging outside.

The storm was still going full force when the fluorescent lights clicked on. Six am. Jensen sat up on the cot, wrapping the blanket more tightly around himself. Soon, the door would unlock, and Roger would take him to breakfast. Jensen would welcome the sight of even Roger’s unfriendly face instead of the white padded room he was in.

Jensen counted the minutes until seven am. Nothing happened. At seven forty-five, there was a clicking sound. Jensen walked over to the door, expecting it to open. Instead, a rectangular hatch in the door was opened downward, creating a little table and a tray of food was set down.

“What’s happening?” Jensen yelled.

There was no response.

Eventually, the tray of food was taken out of the door and the hatch was closed and locked. Jensen paced the small room, seven steps, turn, four steps, turn, seven steps, turn, four steps, turn, seven… Alone. His thoughts matched in time with his steps. Completely alone. No one will come for you. All alone.

“Alone…”

Jensen froze. It had been a whisper, sure, but… It couldn’t be. Jensen took a deep, shaky breath. Get hold of yourself, Ackles, he thought. He rubbed his knuckles hard into his forehead. It was nothing, his mind was playing tricks on him.

“It is nothing but the wind in the chimney,” Jensen recited out loud. “It is only a mouse crossing the floor,-”

“Or it is merely a cricket which has made a single chirp!”

Jensen whirled around, his heart hammering in his throat again. The door to the padded cell was open and in the doorway was an old gentleman in a collared shirt, an argyle sweater vest, pressed pants, and loafers.

“Poe at his best! That’s one of my favorites as well. Care to have a seat, Jensen?”

Jensen slowly sat down on the cot, not taking his eyes off the man. Jensen realized the room was very quiet now, the storm must have died down while he was lost in his thoughts. The man brought with him a stool as well as a briefcase and he sat down across from Jensen. A young woman brought in her own stool and sat down in the corner. The door closed and click-locked.

“My name is Dr. Langstrom and this is one of my students, Abigail. I want to talk to you about what happened last night, and I’ll need to take some blood,” the man introduced himself, then took a small journal from his pocket along with an expensive looking pen.

“Is Jared okay?” Jensen chewed on his bottom lip.

“Don’t worry, now are you scared of needles?” The doctor asked and he began to take some plastic wrapped items out of the briefcase.

“No, but, why are you taking blood?” Jensen asked, holding out his arm.

“Just make sure everything’s alright with you.”

Dr. Langstrom took an alcohol wipe and rubbed Jensen’s arm. With his tongue sticking between his teeth, the doctor squinted at the needle. Then he paused for a moment, and pulled out a package of gloves and put them on. He took the needle again and pricked it into Jensen’s arm and Jensen hissed. Then, Dr. Langstrom actually moved the needle around, attempting to find a vein.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, sorry, let me try again,” Dr. Langstrom said vaguely.

“Doc, the tourniquet,” Abigail prompted.

“Yes, yes! That’s right!”

Dr Langstrom pulled the strip of rubber from his bag and wrapped it around Jensen’s upper arm. His second, third, and fourth attempts were no better than the first, however.

“Um, Doc, would you like me to do that? I just finished my lab rotation,” Abigail spoke quietly from the corner.

“Of course Abigail, that would be wonderful. I haven’t drawn blood in fifteen or twenty years.”

Abigail put on a pair of gloves and switched places with the doctor. She adjusted the tourniquet tighter and then she calmly took the needle and palpated Jensen’s arm. With one smooth movement, the needle was in and blood trickled into the waiting vial.

“Now, Jensen,” Dr. Langstrom started after Abigail finished drawing his blood. “Can you tell us what happened last night? Did Jared take anything?”

“I don’t know. I woke up and he was laughing. I hit the call button and Barney came in,” Jensen explained simply, picking at a loose thread on his jumpsuit.

“That’s all?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jensen shrugged.

“Were you attacked? Did he bite you or spit at you in any way?”

“What? No,” Jensen’s worry bled into his words.

“Good, good. Are you feeling well? No feelings of euphoria or despair?”

“I’m fine,” Jensen said through gritted teeth. “What’s happening with Jared? Where is he?”

“Good, good. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you anything about Jared.”

Jensen mulled that over for a moment. Then, his bladder reminded him it’d been way too long since his last bathroom visit.

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“I’ll let the guard know.”

Abigail and Dr. Langstrom gathered their things and knocked on the door. It opened for them and closed behind them. Then, the hatch opened.

“Present yourself to be cuffed, Ackles,” came a deep baritone voice.

Jensen slid his hands through the hatch and winced as handcuffs were tightened around his wrists. Jensen stepped back and the door opened. He was taken to a small bathroom and then straight back to the padded cell. All attempts at talking to the guard were met with stony silence. Once back in the room, handcuffs removed, Jensen sat down on the cot.

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Let me know what you think! Send me a message, reblog, or send an ask! However you’d like!

#that summer storm #jensen ackles #jensen #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x yn #jensen x y/n #jensen ackles x y/n #supernatural rpf #jensen ackles x yn

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millllenniawrites · 3 years

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gold rush (Poe Dameron x Reader)

part two of dear love of mine

words: 2.6k

warnings: reader has a last name; regency au for the aesthetic but it’s historically inaccurate for the *vibes*; afab!reader; slow burn; sexual themes throughout; eventual smut; pining; awkwardness and slight secondhand embarrassment possible; everyone is unreliable; warnings will be added as the series progresses

a/n: WE’RE FINALLY GETTING INTO THE STORY IM SO EXCITED also we get a lot more Poe in this chapter which I hope you guys like!! as always, if you wanna be added to the taglist, there’s a link in my bio :)

You didn’t see General Dameron or Lord Barnes until dinner that night.

They’d been busy moving their things in. Two more carriages had arrived shortly after the men, but they were mostly carrying Lord Barnes’ staff. With the grandeur of his presence, you were surprised at how little his servants had to carry into your home.

It did make you happy to see that he was keeping those loyal to his father employed through the renovation of his home. You had discussed the very topic at length with Mister Kirk, who had informed you just how easily those servant jobs can be lost.

And how difficult it could be to regain them.

You couldn’t imagine not having your staff with you. Your Ladies Maid, Char, had been the only new edition to your household that you could remember since Siena had been born. You were one big family. They were paid, certainly, but family all the same. No one else had been around through grieving your father’s death. No uncles, no aunts. But the people that had looked after your family since before you were born had been there every step of the way.

At the very top of the staircase you had tumbled down with Ana only hours earlier was a large circular landing, branching off into two halls. The western wing held your sisters’ bedrooms, yours, and the room your mother had moved into in her grief.

The eastern wing was seldom used these days. Since your father had passed, it had been empty except for the staff and your rare journeys to your father’s study for records and estate paperwork. It was perfect for your guests, separate enough from the rest of your family that your eldest sister’s virtue could be ensured without having to turn away the Lord of the land you lived upon.

He would be quite the match for her indeed, if he could get around to actually proposing.

Though you knew that you should have been focusing on Lord Barnes and how best to nudge him in your sister’s direction, your thoughts returned to the General.

You wondered how he was filling his time before dinner. You’d offered them a tour — well, Mister Kirk had offered them a tour on your behalf — but they’d both declined. Perhaps their trip had been long. Ana had not mentioned where they had been voyaging from. It could have been far. Lord Barnes had a few homes. The men in town had said as much when you’d been not-eavesdropping at one of the spring balls.

Only to assure yourself and your mother that Ana would be kept and cared for when they did marry.

Fussing with your hair could only provide distraction for so long. Sat at your vanity, you fiddled with brushes and clips and jewelry that Char had so neatly arranged that morning. Your room was beautiful, smaller than your eldest sisters and made smaller still by the shelves you’d insisted on lining the walls and packing with books. There was no shortage of beautiful trinkets, littered among the stacks of paper. Among your favourites, a bronze compass your father had gifted you and a necklace that had belonged to a distant grandmother you’d never met that appeared more like water droplets than stones.

Every time you allowed your eyes to wander, you could see the General gazing back. Your short glimpse of him had cemented itself in your memory, not allowing you a moment of respite.

He had to know how handsome he was to walk the way he did. Never mind how short your interaction was. You’d seen enough.

Another beautiful man, not unlike the Lord Barnes. The money, the fame behind his title and his bloody victory, meant nothing to you.

But there was something about those eyes…

Perhaps your sisters’ company would distract you.

Before you’d fully registered your decision to move, you found yourself out of your bedroom and at the bottom of the stairs. Your sisters and mother loitered in front of the dining room, chattering amongst themselves.

You slid in between Siena and Ana, linking your arms with theirs. “Are we awaiting something?”

Ana bumped her forehead into your shoulder. “You, silly. Shall we sit. Chef said she was almost finished with supper.”

Your mother opened up the doors to the dining room. This was one room that you were truly proud to inherit. Since you were of an age to sit up without assistance, you’d all sat at the same table. Your grubby hands had smudged across it’s surface. You’d traced the curved edge with the end of a fork at more than one of your father’s terrible business dinner meetings. It was as much of an heirloom than anything else your parents could leave you.

You sat first, at the head of the table opposite your mother as you had since your father had vacated his seat. Your sisters joined you in their chairs with their backs to the window, Siena closest to you.

She leaned across the corner of the table, whispering behind her hand, “How old do you reckon the General is?”

With a roll of your eyes, you whispered back, “Too old for you, dear sister.”

As if summoned, the man himself walked through the door with the Lord Barnes in tow. The General was no longer in a military uniform but a loose white shirt, the sleeves unbound. Barnes was dressed, jacket buttoned and hat tucked under his arm. Truly opposites.

To your dismay, the General sat beside you, leaving the seat next to your mother to Barnes.

“Thank you for joining us, gentleman.” Your mother lifted her wine glass to them, and you followed her lead.

As your servants set your meals in front of you, Lord Barnes broke the silence. “I must say, Miss Dean,” The title caught your attention, though he had directed it to Ana, “It is refreshing to see you after so long of reading your words. Though it was a necessary evil, I have needed to gaze upon you for some time.”

He was bold. So quick to flatter, and in front of your mother, no less. But you weren’t afforded the time to process his words before the General was cutting in.

“A need, you say?” He echoed. “You aren’t perhaps attempting to rewrite Shakespeare, are you, Finn?” The Lord shot an amused look to his companion, who continued, “Does the line not go something like, ‘So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground’?”

Your mother and Siena both sighed, as if you were the only one that could see the General’s clear attempt to flaunt his abilities. It seemed he was determined to be as infuriating as he was beautiful. And you simply would not have that in your home, disrupting your sister’s love.

“Did you have a lot of time to study literature while on the front lines, General?” You asked sweetly, glaring daggers across your plate. “Or was your time spent reading in an office far from the dying cries of your men?”

Your mother politely engaged Lord Barnes in a conversation as the General’s eyes flared. “I studied classics in school, Miss Dean. I can assure you, though I am a few years removed from my education, I do believe I remember the details of my years of study.”

“Did you attend a private school before joining the military, General? It would be a shame if your father had paid good money for you to quote sonnets on the battlefield.” Siena kicked you under the table but nothing could distract you from the fire behind the General’s eyes.

“I did, though it was of my own merit, not my father’s coin.”

“Lord Barnes!” Siena said loudly, forcing you to keep quiet as the rest of the table fell silent. “How long was your journey today? I don’t think you said.”

“A few hours. And please, do call me Finn. I think that we will all be getting to know each other quite well in the next little while and I must admit I am not used to the title, even after a year.”

“Then we shall.” Ana’s sweet voice broke you out of your anger. The way she gazed at Finn would have stoked the flames if not for how truly happy you were for her.

Siena perked up as she discovered a way to insert herself into the discussion. “Do you have a favourite, General? Of the writers you studied?”

“The King himself, of course. Shakespeare. I couldn’t possibly pick another. Do you know of another writer that can so excellently balance the comic and the tragic, Miss Dean?” He addressed you, causing Siena to slump down in her seat. “For if you do, I certainly would not mind a recommendation. This summer shall be long without anything stimulating to discuss.”

“Oh General, don’t get her started on the greeks!” Siena faked a swoon, the back of her hand pressed to her brow as she deflated in her chair. “She truly won’t stop chattering if you do.”

The light behind his eyes shifted, the defensive fire from before becoming a curious simmer. “You’re well read.”

You chuckled unbecomingly into your wine. “You sound so surprised, General. Is it more shocking that I am beautiful or that I am a woman, as well as educated?”

Evidently taken aback, he took a moment to compose himself before responding, “I will admit that while both of those traits may make you… distracting, Miss Dean, they do not surprise me. I simply expected the future matron of these grounds to be more focused on her people, rather than a man’s education.”

“Are you accusing me of neglecting my duties, General Dameron?” Your sharp tone silenced the room.

He seemed as if he might be ill over the table before quickly recovering. In a soft voice, he said, “Of course not, Miss Dean.”

His grovelling could not quell the need in your gut to put him in his place. “I would hope not. Though I understand that perhaps the concept is foreign to a man such as yourself, women are more than capable of a trick known as multitasking.”

With a small, apologetic smile into his soup, the General ducked his head.

A rush of untapped power surged in you at his bowed head. You breathed deeply to keep from further injuring him, taking a bite of the soup in front of you.

It tasted of nothing. Chef had rarely disappointed in the years she’d worked for your family, so you were certain it must be you. The sourness of your exchange had need to be cleansed from your palate, perhaps.

A trip to Father’s study would do just the trick. And while you were there, you could brush up on your reading to ensure you were thoroughly prepared on the next occasion the General dared to test you.

“I do believe I am finished.” You pushed your seat back, standing and sweeping from the room without so much as a backward glance.

***

You clutched your skirts in one hand to keep from tripping as you ascended the long staircase that lead you up to your room, your nose in your book. The house was quiet. After your outburst at dinner, it couldn’t have been terribly comfortable to stay seated in that room.

Mrs Wex had not yet extinguished the candles that lined the hall, which left you to navigate in their dull glow. It wasn’t needed. You could have found your way to the room that had been yours since you were a child in the pitch dark. Or asleep. Or bound and barely able to move.

The violent thought was enough to stop you in your tracks. Perhaps it was time to put the books away and get some rest.

You turned down the hallway to the west wing, tucking your book under your arm. It was one that you’d read enough times to open and begin at any place without really missing any of the story, so you weren’t terribly worried about marking down the page number.

A shadow at the end of the hallway moved.

You didn’t have a chance to raise your book up to defend yourself or scream before the shadow held out his hands and stepped into the candlelight. “Miss Dean, it’s me.”

Your hand flew to your throat. “General Dameron,” The words were breathier than you intended, but you pressed on, whisper-shouting, “What exactly do you think you are doing?!”

The General’s sharp features stood out in the wavering light. His hands trembled. Quickly, he straightened himself and let his hands drop. “I was…” He glanced over his shoulder, back down the long hallway. You followed his gaze and noticed your door ajar. “I was searching for a servant. I hadn’t noticed how late it was, so I took care of my task myself.”

Before you could comment on the strange ‘coincidence’ of your room’s disturbance, you realized how close you were standing to him. Your gaze traced down the column of his throat, to the collar of his shirt that he had left unbutton, exposing his chest.

Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to look into his eyes. “It is not proper, General Dameron, for us to be alone together.”

He bowed, stepping away from you as if his proximity was the offending matter, not his presence itself. “I shall leave you then, Miss Dean. Goodnight.” With a slight duck of his head, he walked quickly to the end of the hall with his hands clutched tightly behind his back.

You gazed after him. He was a curious man, confident and near-boastful one moment, and almost shy the next. It certainly was not becoming of a General, who you would have more likely assigned the former description. It would not inspire confidence in men for them to witness their leader so bashful in the presence of a woman.

Once he was surely out of range, you entered your room. Everything was as it should be, nothing disturbed, aside from a folded square of parchment sitting atop the covers of your bed.

You unfolded it. The ink was still drying, but through the smudges, you read:

Dear Esteemed Host,

On behalf of myself and my colleague and friend, Lord Barnes—

In the margins, he had scrawled: Would he be as insistent on being address as Finn in the written form? I suppose we will not ever know.

You continued on reading.

On behalf of myself and my colleague and friend, Lord Barnes, I thank you for your most gracious invitation to reside with you for this tumultuous time in our lives. Though your mother is the owner of this property, I understand from your wonderful staff that it is you that truly manages the grounds, while your mother looks after your sisters, so I thought a formal thanks to be required.

I also think an apology is in order for my behaviour at dinner.

You had never known a man to apologize. For anything. You sat in the shock for a moment before returning to the letter.

I had not intended to offend, though I do believe this was the result of my actions. I truly look forward to further opportunity to hear of your studies and perhaps share some of what I have learned, should you wish to hear of it.

Your humble servant,

General Poe Dameron

You hadn’t known his name. Poe. He’d scrawled the characters messily, perhaps through force of habit. It fit somehow, warm on your tongue as you whispered his name into the night air.

Perhaps you could entertain his questioning. It couldn’t truly hurt. Could it?

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #mywriting #poe dameron fic #regency au #bridgerton au

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batarella · 4 years

Text

I Don’t Hate You - Part 3 (Jason Todd x Reader)

OKAY LEMME TELL YOU ALL I’VE NEVER POSTED ANYTHING THIS LONG. AND I’VE NEVER SMILED SO MUCH WHILE WRITING A SINGLE FIC IN MY LIFE. IT’S 2K WORDS LONGER THAN THE COMMANDER FINALE. TALK ABOUT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.

REMEMBER WHY JADE WEST WAS SO ICONIC IN VICTORIOUS? READ ON!

WORDS: A WHOPPING 7404 WORDS FOR A SINGLE PART OF A SERIES WARNINGS: NEVER HAD THIS MUCH FLUFF IN MY LIFE

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

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Hands flat on Ms. Peterson’s desk, you flashed the brightest fake smile you could. She looked up from her computer, probably the fifth round of solitaire for the day, and cocked up an eyebrow. She did not at all look amused at you storming in.

But you’ve been in the library for twenty minutes and this woman has not given you anything to do to keep you in here.

“Listen, Ms. Peterson. As much as we just love hanging out in this outdated hellhole, I’d rather we go home than just sit here and do nothing for the next hour and a half.”

Her shaky hands didn’t flinch. And she turned her attention back at her screen.

“I’m told to keep you in here for another eight weeks. I’ve had this job for fifty years and I’m not about to lose it to two whiny brats.”

“She’s the only whiny brat here, Ms. P.” Jason rested his elbows on the desk and leaned over beside you. “If you let us out, it’ll be our little secret. C’mon.”

Obviously, that sort of trick works for Jason more times than it would for any ordinary person. But Ms. Peterson was not the one to charm with. And she had the same, dead look in her eye when she turned her head at the young man.

“Sit. Down.”

“What the hell are we supposed to do?”

“I don’t care. Just get your asses on those chairs and sit. Oh look! A person in need of service. There’s your job. Go do it.”

Only one guy was standing behind you. You snarled at him, eyes narrowed. You were almost growling beneath your breath which made him visibly stand back. Jason looked at him over his shoulder with less fear factor but with the same annoyance.

The sight of you both made him almost piss his pants.

“Uhm,” he gulped. “Can you please show me where sci fi books are at?”

You cocked up an eyebrow, glancing at your nails before nudging Jason with your shoulder. He grunted at you, giving you that same ‘I really fucking hate you’ look on his face he’s practically embedded onto his own skin by now. You shrugged, looking back at your nails. Then Jason stood straight and held the guy by the shoulder.

“Go through that aisle. Third shelf from the right.”

“He asked you to go with him, Todd.”

His glare on you was really starting to show. “He can find it himself.”

The poor guy gulped and viciously nodded to agree with Jason. He walked away, making sure not to catch your eye. You lifted your elbows from the librarian’s desk and spared the old lady another snarky look, to which she didn’t even bother to notice. Both of you sitting back on the empty table, Jason placed his arm crossed over the other on the surface and leaned his head over to at least try having a nap. His hair was all sprawled out. You, on the other hand, leaned back, head hanging on your neck, and closing your eyes hoping time would fly by faster that way.

It didn’t.

Two weeks. It had been two fucking weeks. And yet, you were far from being halfway through this macabre series of events. Why couldn’t you have just punched that Maxwell kid in the face? Or threatened to murder him in his sleep? Anything else would have been better. Anything that would’ve landed you in an entirely different situation than to be stuck here with an old woman stricter than a Belle Reeves prison guard.

You could either look at the windows out the library, find a book and actually read one of them (though if they had any more of Poe’s you’d likely get your hands on them).

Or just stare at the eye candy in front of you.

Your smirk was less obvious when you glanced over the veins on his large, muscled arms, folded on top of the other with his skin stretched. His thick, black hair that was long enough to cover most of his forehead, now sticking onto his arm. His neck that was long and thick, his thin shirt and how even more lean muscles would pop out when he’d unintentionally flex. You often caught sight of his stomach when he’d reach over a shelf that was at the top most level, and the ‘V’ shape on his skin was more than eminent enough for you to picture. He wasn’t absolutely huge, especially since he was just 17. But he was definitely fit.

You wouldn’t mind looking at that for a while. Not until he starts talking, anyway. For long minutes, that was what you did, then you got bored.

The tip of your boots kicked his shin under the table. He jumped up, startled, almost growling at you with dark bags under his eyes.

“The fuck do you want now?”

“Someone’s a bit angsty today,” your evil little smirk ticked off another of his nerves. You could tell. He let out a large sigh, started leaning back against the back of his chair, then spread out his arms behind his head to stretch.

Ooooooh shit. There is was. The veins.

“I didn’t sleep last night.” Jason finished stretching and went back to lean against the table. “You done gawking?”

“Cute.” You scrunched up your face to mock him. “I’m bored.”

“And what am I supposed to do with that?”

“Help me sneak out of here.”

“Two weeks here. You think I haven’t tried sneaking out once or twice? That woman’s got the eye of a fucking hawk.”

“Is there any other way out of here?”

“I doubt it.”

Your groan was indefinitely long, stretching the back of your neck when you opted to reach for your phone.

“I’m at three percent.”

Jason took out his own phone. “Mine’s at five.”

“That blackout from last night reach your monster mansion, too?”

He snarled at you and rolled his eyes. “Bruce has generators to power up the whole place when we need it.”

“Then why are you at five percent?”

“Because I’ve been tinkering on this sorry little fucker the last thirty minutes.” He held it up with just his fingers. It had a cracked screen. It looked too old to even be used. “Battery drains faster than my patience.”

“Can’t your new rich dad buy you another one?”

“He did. I don’t wanna use it. Just doesn’t feel like mine.”

“Ah. You're one of those guys. ‘My parents are rich, not me’ kind of dudes. You’re all the same kinds of annoying.”

“I don’t act all high and mighty, for your information.”

“I’m just saying,” you raised your arms up. “If I were you’d I’d at least enjoy his wealth. It’s stupid if you don’t take advantage of things you clearly already have.””

He silently shook his head and looked to the side like you wouldn’t understand even if you tried. Scoffing, you turned away, and you caught the eye of Maxwell, who had a sling on his arm still.

“Holy fuck,” you reached for your bag. “I can't believe I fucking forgot.”

“What?”

Pouring out the contents, you mumbled. “Help me with this thing and I swear I owe you a huge favor.”

“I think watching you wallow in your pain would be more worth my time.”

“That sounds more like my line. You’re taking after me. Good. And I’d say likewise if I wasn’t so desperate, Todd.” You started pouring out pieces of paper, a bottle of glue, and a pair of the largest scissors Jason’s ever seen.

“Is that-“

“The scissors that sent that guy to therapy?” You pointed at Maxwell. “Yes. Yes they are.”

“Jesus.” He took it from your hands. “No fucking wonder.”

“Stop ogling and help me.”

“What the fuck are you supposed to do?”

“Remember the project that kid spilled his coffee on? This is it. I finished it that day and now I have to do it all over again. They gave me another two weeks to do it and I completely forgot about it until now. I’m supposed to make a stained-glass kind of picture. But with cutting pieces of colored paper.”

Jason took the paper you had on the table.

“These are all white, black, gray, and one sheet that’s dark red.”

You shrugged. “I like working with those colors. Now help me. I wanna do this.” You pulled out your phone and showed him a saved photo of one you’d like to copy. He almost jumped out of his seat when you suddenly showed him a picture of a deranged clown with a big red nose, a smile much larger than half his face, and eyes dark and dwelling enough to give him nightmares.

“I wanna know what type of dark shit you’re on.”

“It’s just a clown.”

“I am not helping you on your little art project.”

“Please.” Your hands were down, your eyes widened but not the threatening kind. And your voice, it was definitely the softest he’s ever heard it. Twitching an eyebrow like he was watching your every move, Jason didn’t flinch.

He looked at the clock. Then back at you with his eyeballs rolled all the way around.

“You’re lucky I literally have nothing better to do.”

You propped your shoulders up and gave him a black piece of paper and a pair of scissors. “Great. Cut these into the shapes I drew here.”

A disgruntled groan and a sharp snatch from your hands, Jason looked just as cranky as you usually were. It was amusing. He glared at you and you just smiled back. “Thanks, Jay.”

“Shut up and get to work.”

Your eyes lingered a bit longer on him, even when he’d started to fiddle with your too-large scissors, and you rolled your eyes with a bit of a smile.

“What’s making you so grumpy today?”

He didn’t bother looking up at you. His brows were all scrunched up as he cut the black piece of paper.

“I told you. I didn’t get to sleep last night. I was… out. Why are you grumpy all the time?”

You squinted your eyes at him then went to work. Carefully, he went through the first paper and gave you the shapes you wanted. You set aside your own batch and you took out the larger, white paper on which you’d glue it all on.

“Okay. Give me the shapes.”

You took out the glue and started pouring it on the paper.

“You’re doing it all wrong.”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“You clearly don’t.” He snatched it from you and started wiping the glue off with his finger, spreading it around. “I can't believe I’m fucking doing this.”

“And what are you doing exactly?” you snarled.

“Pouring the glue in will make it all sticky. You should’ve traced over the outer lines so it wouldn’t crumple.”

“I know that.” You took the glue away from him again, then placed the shape onto the paper. “One down.”

“Fucking kill me now.”

“Keep cutting. I’ll handle the glue.”

“Do it right, then.”

You stuck your tongue out at him. He started again with your scissors and went back to snipping off the pieces of paper. Gluing the shapes one by one, you started taking out a red marker and traced the outlines to mimic the flow of blood.

Jason stared at it, then at you, eyes wide with disbelief, then went back to his scissors.

“Excuse me,” a girl went up to you. A freshman, you could tell. “That lady told me you could show me to the young adult section?”

“No. Go away.”

You kept with your glue, not even looking at the girl who just stared at you awkwardly. Jason pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep, long sigh. “Go down that aisle. Fifth shelf. Down the very end.”

“Uh. Thanks.” She walked over to where Jason was pointing at. You still didn’t look up from your work. And instead, watched on as Jason continued with cutting the shapes. “You need to chill.”

“Finish those up. That’s the last one.”

Jason rolled his eyes even more, angrily cutting through the pieces of red paper the size of the clown’s big red nose. He dropped the scissors onto the table and just continued to watch you gluing the pieces together with way too much glue.

He gave you no warning before grabbing the glue bottle from you and the shapes, stretching his arm out so you can't reach them.

“TODD.”

“YOU’RE RUINING THE WHOLE THING.”

“NO, I’M NOT.” You cursed with his name and stood up from your chair, reaching out with your arms all the way to him while he desperately wiped off the excess glue for your sake. “GIVE THAT BACK.”

“SIT DOWN.” He cried back at you.

You heard the shrillest shush Ms. Peterson has ever made, before you went back to fumbling with Jason. Your table was at the far end, and she was no longer at your line of sight. He held your wrist, wiping off the rest of the glue, then finally handed the bottle back to you. Putting the shapes onto the paper, you groaned when you slumped back on the chair.

“It looks horrible,” he tried to stifle a laugh.

“Fuck you.”

“At least you’re almost done, right?”

“You put the glue on the shapes then, genius. I’ll paste them on.”

Grumbling with his deep voice, he took the glue bottle and swiped the shapes back over to him. Using thin, barely visible lines, he was so stingy with the glue you wanted to tear your hair out.

“That won't even stick to a fly trap.”

“You want your work to look all crumpled? Go ahead.”

“Just put a bit more.”

“I have the fucking glue bottle,” his eyebrows were raised. “You sit there and wait for me, then you stick them yourself. Start with this.”

He slammed a shape onto the table and you took it, careful not to hit your fingers with the glue. Biting into your gums, you wondered how you’ll be able to handle yet another eight weeks with his kid.

Your bickering didn’t even stop there. It went on, and Jason had to cut even more shapes to make up for some that were far too small. He was practically yelling at this point, and you weren’t about to get yelled at and not respond.

“YOU’RE THE ONE WHO CUT THEM, DINGUS.”

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THE RIGHT FUCKING SIZE.”

“I GAVE YOU THE PATTERN. YOU ONLY HAD TO FOLLOW IT.”

“WELL I WOULD HAVE IF YOUR SCISSORS WEREN’T SO DAMN BIG.”

“THEY’RE THE BEST PAIR IN EXISTENCE. YOU JUST CAN'T HANDLE IT.”

“I THINK I CAN HANDLE A PAIR OF SCISSORS.”

“THEN WHY CAN'T YOU CUT BETTER THAN A FUCKING SEVEN-YEAR-OLD.”

“’CUZ THEY DON’T HAVE A FUCKING PARROT SCREAMING AT THEM EVERY FIVE GODDAMN MINUTES.”

The silent yelling didn’t stop. At the end, your voices were too loud that Ms. Peterson would’ve eventually shushed you for the last time and probably throw her slipper at you. Thankfully, she’d gone out to the bathroom and you were left alone.

Everyone else had left. It was almost 5 pm, and you refused to go if your project still wasn’t finished.

“This. Is. The worst day. Of my entire life. And I used to live in the streets.”

“You're not going anywhere. Stay.”

A deep, agonizingly painful groan. He slumped onto the table and buried his face into his arms. “Why can't you just kill me?”

Another set of long minutes, with your attention directly at the glue and scraping off the excess to make it look presentable. It didn’t actually look that bad. The second set of cut shapes were just the right size. Jason didn’t bother looking up. He might have even fallen asleep with you being silent for the longest time since you got there.

No one was left in the library, and it was just starting to get dark.

“Aaaaand THERE.” You placed the finished project onto the table and clapped your hands together in a grinning happiness. Jason, on the other hand, looked as good as dead.

“You may go.”

“You owe me fucking big time, kid.”

You smirked at him when he violently pushed his chair back, grabbed his backpack and went out for the door. You took your time, especially since going home late didn’t seem like such a drag anymore when Dad moved back in. You carefully slipped your collage into your folder and slung your bag over your shoulder.

Jason was still standing in front of the door, hand frozen on the handle you pushed him away and turned it, only for your hand to come at an abrupt stop and the sound of gears halting its turn.

“Where the fuck is Mother Goose?”

“The bathroom-“

But she wasn’t at the bathroom. Unless Ms. Peterson took her large purse and computer along with her to the toilet, she probably wasn’t in there.

“Are we-“

“There has to be a key here.” Jason rummaged through the librarian’s desk. Every drawer he could forcefully pull out, he did.

You pulled out your phone, which was a dead 0%, the image of a drained-out battery staring back at you, and that’s when you started to feel the panic slowly rise. You rushed to the library’s telephone, but you couldn’t even hear a dial tone. The phone was off. Jason’s phone was probably just as dead.

You rushed to the lights to turn them on, but nothing happened.

Fuck. Another blackout. FUCK.

“No key,” he rested his hands on the table. “Shit. FUCK.”

You only stared at each other, feeling that panic start to settle in when you realized you were out of options.

“M-Maybe. Your dad will come pick us up?”

Jason shook his head. “The last time I ran away for the night, he said he wasn’t gonna go around Gotham to pick me up anymore.” He looked at you. “Your parents?”

“Said the exact same thing.”

Your back hit the wall, and you slid down with your head up in the ceiling. Both silent. None of you even said it out loud.

Jason looked like he wanted to scream.

-----

You laid on your back, flat against the table, with just your arm over your eyes to shield it from the light posts outside the window on the driveway. You tried to drown out Jason’s fiddling with his lock pick and the door handle. Two hours had passed, and you’d barely gone by the evening.

“That’s not gonna work.”

“You have a better option, Lydia Deetz?”

You clenched your jaw and sneered. “You’ve been at it for an hour.”

“I’m almost through this.” He kept with his pick, a hairpin he found on the ground which he spent another hour looking for. “Juuuust- THERE!”

You shot up from the table, feet landing enthusiastically onto the floor and you sprinted to Jason’s back. “Here’s to freedom.”

Too eagerly, he turned the handle and pulled the door with a victorious grin.

Only for his hand to jolt at another abrupt stop. The door wouldn’t budge, only peering open through an inch. The grin on his face was immediately lost, and he almost feel out of his feet when you violently pushed him away, pulling on the door yourself and failing.

You could see the deadbolt, but something outside was holding the double doors from opening, no matter which one you pulled on.

“That batshit crazy old witch,” you growled. “Fucking chain locked the door.”

A loud, frustrated groan from Jason as he threw the hairpin to the ground like he would’ve a knife. “WHO CHAIN LOCKS A LIBRARY?”’

You walked away from the door, going back to the tables so you could bend over and stuff your face into your hands. Jason was even more of a mess.

Your dad started his first big fight with mom since he moved back in last night, just when you thought they’d finalized the divorce, he squirms back in. And your room was never far enough to drown out their screams.

That night you wished you were somewhere else. And you ended up somewhere even worse.

Jason was sitting on the floor, back flat against the wall, and his eyes were shut close while you laid back down on top of the table.

“I’m hungry.”

“The fuck you want me to do about that?” Jason kept his eyes shut.

“You got any food?”

“No.”

“Don’t you have something in your bag?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“You think you can stab me with those scissors? ‘Cuz I feel like choking on my own blood right now.”

You rolled over so you were laying on your stomach. Craning your head up to look at Jason, your chin resting on your fingers, you grinned. “I’d rather not spend the night being stuck with your rotting flesh. I’ll kill you in the morning.”

Jason screamed into his hands. “We are not gonna be stuck here until fucking morning.”

“Either you die tonight still in denial or we actually try to survive. Now do you have anything in your bag or what?”

He didn’t give in to picking out his bag without leaving you a dark glare. The sky was completely dark by now. And the only light source you had were three lamp posts outside the window. The power was still off, which meant it was going to be this dark the whole fucking night.

“Would you look at that?” He took out a small protein bar from his smaller pocket. “Forgot that was there.”

You jumped off the table again. “Great. I’m starving.”

You walked too fast to Jason, who immediately stood up and hold you by the shoulder, raising his hand away from your reach. “Ey. Mine. From my bag, remember?”

“I don’t have anything in mine!” you reached and tried to push him, but had no luck against his strength. “Come on!”

“I have way more body mass than you. I need this.”

You pursed your lips, glowering at him even when you knew he still wouldn’t budge. He kept pushing your shoulder from him until you backed away reluctantly.

“WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO EAT?”

You whined and grunted with your back hitting the wall. Jason stepped away facing you and opened the protein bar, took a large bite that left it with almost a third of the whole thing left.

“You know. That thing with the scissors stuck into your neck doesn’t seem like a bad idea anymore.” You grumbled.

Chewing profusely at the bar, he folded his one arm over his chest and smirked while watching you silently grovel in annoyance. You leaned on your side and made sure he wouldn’t hear your stomach starting to growl.

“Fine,” he groaned. “Here.”

A little over a quarter of the protein bar left. Jason handed it over to you and you gritted your teeth.

“There’s barely anything left, you bile-headed twat.”

“You want me to finish it?”

Snatching the bar away from him, you cursed under your breath right before you gobbled up what was left of the snack. It did little to nothing to make you feel less hungry, but at least you weren’t going to die.

“You're welcome.”

You threw the wrapper onto the floor and went back to sitting on the table. “Got anymore bright ideas?”

“Maybe if you’d help, I’d actually be able to tolerate you.”

Jason walked over to the classics shelf, pulled out a book and did the same as you. He swung his legs over on top of the table across you, bringing his knees up so he could rest his elbows on them. He then opened his book.

“You're reading,” you bit your gums. “You’re actually reading at a time like this.”

“What else are we supposed to do in a fucking library?”

Your hands met the surface of the table behind you and you threw your head back. “We have at least until the power comes back on. GOD, this place in insufferable.”

“Never mind the helping. You shutting up would be enough not to drive me insane.”

“And you're less of an ass when you're not a grouch, dickhead.”

“I’m ignoring you now.”

The vein on your forehead started to throb. You weren’t tired yet, and you wouldn’t be able to sleep at this hour even if you tried. You rolled around the table, desperate for any position that wouldn’t drive your limbs numb.

You jolted when you heard Jason curse.

“This fucking lamp post’s too dim. Can't even see shit.”

He set the book aside, laid down on his back and watched the ceiling with you.

“How did we even get locked up?”

“Maybe if you didn’t keep me captive with that stupid clown project for three hours we wouldn’t be in the mess.”

“So it’s my fault now? You're the one who fell asleep!”

“How could you have possibly missed the time? You know the library closes at five!”

“I didn’t fucking know that! I leave before that old witch does every time!”

“Just-.” Jason shut his eyes. “Can we stop screaming for ONE SECOND? Especially since we’re gonna stuck here the whole night?!”

The mocking noise you made was almost inhuman. Jason didn’t bother snarling back.

You saw a car pass by, the headlights shining through the window for the shortest moment. You kneeled on the table and waved your arms around.

“HEY. GET US OUT OF HERE!”

The car kept moving, and the headlights passed through the whole of the window until it left. You slumped back to lay down and groaned. “Fuck everything.”

You grabbed your bag, rummaging through everything inside just to find anything to do or anything that could possibly help you. Nothing. Not even a fan to cool you off when you started to feel the temperature rise.

“Did you call the number I gave you?”

You licked your teeth. “I used the piece of paper you gave me as a bookmark.”

Jason lifted his arm off his head. “No shame in asking for help.”

“I told you, I’m not being fucking abused.” You started picking on the leather of your boots, tracing along the creases of where your toes folded. “I don’t know what the hell made you think I was.”

“It doesn’t have to be actual physical abuse,” he sat up on his elbows.

“You really wanna make us feel uncomfortable? Why do you come to school with bruises all the time?”

“It’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m not gonna fucking tell you, Y/LN.”

“Fine. Then let’s not talk about this.”

You had that usual condescending tone, but you didn’t sound like you were on the verge of lashing out. You sounded like you were pleading, even. Jason bit his lower lip. “Okay. What do you wanna talk about? It’s too early to sleep.”

You brought your knees up to sit cross legged and you leaned in on your elbows.

“Wanna play a game?”

Jason drummed his fingers on the table and sighed. “What?”

You scooched closer to him and swung your legs over the edge of the table. He did the same and faced you. “Give me your hand.”

“What?”

“Just give me your hand, Todd. Don’t be a pussy.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Then give me your hand.”

Jason snorted, leaning his elbow over his lap and giving his other hand over to you. You took it, smiling at him, then gripping firmly onto his wrist. “Make a fist.”

He fisted his hand and you could see a few veins pop out on his arm. You started rubbing the outside of his fingers. His eyes scrunched up, watching you. “Open your hand.”

He opened it, then you lightly slapped it with your own palm. “Fist,” you said again. He breathed and pulled it again to a fist. You repeated your first action with a growing smirk. “If I come out of this with one hand left-“

“Shut up. Open again.”

He opened his palm. And with a single finger, you tapped onto the center of his hand, then released your grip on his wrist.

Jason widened his eyes, amused. “It tingles.”

“I know right.” You folded your arms.

“Where’d you learn to do that?”

“That’s a secret.”

He then reached out his other hand to you. “Do it again.”

You laughed and snorted before grabbing his wrist, rubbed his fingers the same way you did the first time. Jason leaned over closer to look at your movements, and his nose was all scrunched up like it would when he was focused on a book. The corner of your mouth lifted, then you tapped his hand with your finger and let go.

“What sorcery is this?”

You shrugged, leaning back and folding your arms. “You have any tricks of your own?”

“Yes I do,” he said, swinging his legs over the edge of the table. “Hold out your hand.”

You did so without hesitation. Jason held your fist, then looked straight at you. “Pick a finger and don’t tell me what it is.”

“Okay?” Your ring finger. Easy enough.

“Look straight into my eyes. Don’t look down.”

You rolled your eyes slightly to the side, licking the inside of your teeth, then did as told.

He was looking straight at you, not even trying to blink. A smirk formed on his lips, and his eyes had that same flick of a glare, but there was a little shine on them from the dim lamp post. You shook your head while still maintaining eye contact and felt his other hand start toying with your fingers.

“It’s your ring finger.”

“Huh,” you shuffled closer to him. “Do it again. I wanna watch your hands.”

“No. You have to look straight at my eyes.”

“Fine. Just do it again. I’ll pay more attention.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled, and you both tried your best to hold back emerging bursts of laughter while he continued to toy with your fingers and trying not to blink.

“You're not choosing a finger.” He said.

“Not true. You just suck.”

It was true. You forgot to choose a finger. The middle finger this time. You shifted your focus, but the way he’d try to hold back a laugh made you choke. “Stop laughing.”

“I’m not.” He so was. You felt him touch your fingers, moving around them one by one. “You’re trying to look for movements.”

“Nope. It’s the middle finger.” He kept at it. Over and over, with you refusing to admit he read your mind.

His hands started feeling warmer each time. You didn’t know you noticed.

-----

A bustling, screeching noise of a cart being hauled around the room for the past ten minutes. You’ve been here for five hours. You were tired, starving, and sweating. You covered most of your face and ears with your hands, but the cart’s noises just kept going.

You shot up from the table. “DUDE. STOP.”

You normally had more insults to scream at him, but at that point of the night, you were all out.

Jason kept going and ignored you. Starting from one end of the library, he pushed the handles of the empty cart, accelerating it with his feet. When he gained the momentum, he placed his feet on the metal and rode it across the room. “Real mature.”

“Don’t be an old hag.”

He accelerated again from the opposite end, then climbed on. Jason went faster this time and just narrowly missed a shelf.

“There’s another cart right there if you have the balls to join me.”

You placed your weight on your arm, watching Jason sprint from one end of the room to the next. With a loud grunt, knowing you wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway, you jumped off the table.

You emptied the cart from the remaining books and pushed it to Jason’s side, who waited for you just by the shelves. “Jump when it speeds up.”

“I know what to do.”

He laughed. “Race you to the other side.”

You gripped on the handle firmly, watching the end of the room, the one lined with heavy bookshelves, and readied yourself. “GO.”

You sprinted the two carts and grabbed on with your life as you sped down the large enough room, feeling the air slightly cooler when it was rushing past your skin and hair. You laughed playfully, stopping just before you hit the shelf. “I win.”

“Are you kidding me? I was waiting for you.”

“One more lap.”

“You’re on.”

Again, you sped past the room. You held onto one side of the handle too hard and accidentally hit Jason’s cart, both of you almost tumbling to the ground. “I call foul!”

“It was an accident!” you laughed, then took the cart again to finish the lap. He caught up with you and you no longer stopped in between, continuously sprinting and jumping onto the metal all across the room. You rode past the shelves, the narrow aisles, narrowly missing the books. You almost hit the tables with the carts and you definitely hit the wall too hard when you stopped too late. Jason was trailing right beside you, then he went about his own route.

That’s when he purposefully hit the front your cart with your own, throwing you off on the ground. “FUCK”

He laughed too hard. “Come on. I have another game.”

Holding his hand out to you, you grabbed on and he pulled you up to your feet. You stood close to him, both of you still laughing. And you were staring too long at his face being close to yours. You pulled away from his lingering grip, looking at the ground.

Setting his own cart aside, he pulled on yours, settling it between the aisle of the shelves. It went straight through the longest path down the room, and you’d have to be lucky to miss the shelves. “Hop on.”

“Todd, if you throw me out the window-“

“Come on. Don’t be a pussy.”

You felt the rush, and you liked how free you felt rushing through the air. You climbed into the cart, grabbing hold of the edges and focused on the end of the room.

Jason leaned in to your ear. “Don’t scream.”

“JASON.”

He was incredibly strong, pushing you in the cart like you weighed nothing and sped through the room faster than he previously had. The cart was growling and was so ready to break apart, but you never felt that kind of thrill since you last rode a coaster. You definitely screamed, a high-pitched shriek you know Jason must never mention to anyone, ever. But you were also laughing your stomach out when Jason turned you around, sped to the other end again. And this time, his feet jumping onto the cart.

You threw your head back, laughing, then you caught a glimpse of his face flashing the brightest smile you’ve ever seen on him.

Your laughter came to an abrupt stop when he stopped the cart too late and crashed against the shelf. You both stood still, watching it toppling like an unsteady jenga tower.

Holding your breath, you heard books fall to the floor, then the shaking mellowed down and you released your breaths when it finally stopped. Turning to Jason and falling into the cart laughing, you clutched at your stomach. “JESUS CHRIST.”

“Not funny!” he cried out, but even he was stifling a laugh. He walked over to the front and placed the books into the cart with you. Some fell on your lap, and you took the books from him and placed them to your side.

“At least we have something to do now.”

“Yeah. Especially since you put these books in the wrong shelf. These belong over there.” He pointed to a shelf nearby.

“Let’s fix it then,” you said, still not moving from the cart. He placed all the books from the floor onto you and moved the cart to the corner.

“You’re heavy.”

“Shut up. From now on, we shelf books this way.” You took a book from your lap and gave it to him, who placed the book in its right place.

“Top shelf,” you smirked.

“I know where to put them.” He took it from your hand and shoved it in place. You didn’t have many books to begin with, but even after that, he continued to push the cart, with you still hitching a ride, and you walked around the library to just look at all the books.

“Everything’s in the right section.”

“Because of me. You made a shit ton of mistakes.”

You threw your head back, looking at him. And from that angle you could see his glare turn into a smile. You leaned against the back of the cart, your head lightly touching his arm.

When you’ve managed to tour the whole library, you sat up.

“You're turn. Get in here.”

Jason wanted to laugh at that. “You’d never be able to lift me.”

“Watch me try.”

You hopped off the cart, pushing him aside from the handle. He shook his head, but eventually climbed on like you had. He was bigger than you, so he looked a lot more uncomfortable with his knees folded way up and his arms barely fitting inside the cart.

He was really heavy. But you managed. Pushing the cart slowly at first, Jason leaned in to the left side to steer you off. “Jason!”

“I see stray books. Go over there.”

You pushed the cart with whatever might you had. When you reached the desk, Jason took the books you previously set aside and placed them on his lap. “Braille,” he said. “These go all the way to the back.”

“I can handle this. I’m a big girl.”

You pushed the cart, eventually gaining speed, but it wasn’t nearly as fast as when he’d pushed you around. You reached the far back, with two sharp turns that nearly killed your back, then stopped with a loud breath.

“You're right. We should do this more often.”

You were panting by that time, and Jason handed you the books to place on the shelf. “Chop chop.”

-----

Two fucking am. The power was still out. Jason was definitely going to call the electricity company when you both get out of here. You were sat cross legged on one side of the long, narrow table, fiddling with your sleeves since you couldn’t sleep. He was laying on the same table but facing the opposite way, closing his eyes and feeling the beginnings of light slumber. His back was going to kill him eventually, but when the rush from that cart fiasco died down, he was so awfully tired.

Jason laid his head on his arm, closing his eyes as tightly as he could.

Then a warm, soothing melody started to buzz through his ears, a tune he’s never quite heard of before. His eyelids suddenly grew softer, feeling the humming song vibrate through him.

Where was it coming from?

He slowly opened his eyes, trying to find the source. Jason craned his head up to you, with your back turned to him, and realized you were the one humming.

You turned to him, and he went back to closing his eyes, pretending to sleep. “Jason?” you lightly asked, not enough to wake him if he was actually asleep. You turned your back around and crouched over to relax.

He wasn’t sleeping anymore, but he kept closing his eyes. A little while later, with you thinking he wasn’t conscious, he heard you actually start to sing.

You got a fast car

I want a ticket to anywhere

Maybe we make a deal

Maybe together we can get somewhere

Anyplace is better

Starting from zero got nothing to lose

Maybe we'll make something

Me, myself I got nothing to prove

Then you paused. Your voice was so soft and light, he never would’ve have heard it if there was anyone else in the room or if he wasn’t awake. You never would’ve sung if you knew he was, though.

You had the most beautiful voice he’s ever heard in his life.

You got a fast car

I got a plan to get us out of here

I been working at the convenience store

Managed to save just a little bit of money

Won't have to drive too far

Just 'cross the border and into the city

You and I can both get jobs

And finally see what it means to be living

Your voice was low, a beautiful, vibrating low. An alto. And there was that deep, breathy growl when you reached the lower notes with ease. A light vibrato at the end of the vowels, and there was that drowsy, slow feel to it that just made it seem like you didn’t make that much effort at all. At some points, you whispered the words, like your everyday screaming never affected your vocal chords at all.

There was a tug at his chest, his face started to burn up. He was wide awake by now, and there was that thudding within him that was too hard to ignore. And it worsened each time you breathed out the end of the verses.

You managed to finish the song, and by then, he was a mess.

You didn’t sing anything more, no matter how much he wished you would. He ended up fighting his tiredness, just in case he’d miss another song.

But right before he drifted to sleep, he realized he’d been smiling his cheeks off.

-----

Twelve hours.

You were stuck in the library.

For twelve fucking hours.

Both of you shot up from the table the moment you heard the chains outside the door clink to the ground. You and Jason raced out the door, and before the security guard could totally open it, you violently pushed it aside and raced out into the wide-open space of the driveway outside the gates. The poor guard looked puzzlingly at you. But since he was too old to care or even ask about what happened, he shrugged it off.

The cool air felt heavenly against your skin, and the bright sun, smiling back at you against your face. You spread your arms out and took in the breeze as much as you could. Jason was fanning himself with the collar of his shirt, raising his arms up the same way you were. “AHHHHH.” He screamed. And you did the same. The frustration went out the window as fast as you’d ran.

“FUCKING FINALLY.”

“THAT IS NEVER HAPPENING AGAIN.”

“NEVER.”

You faced the sky, still taking the deep, fresh intakes of air. Jason placed his hands on his hips and ruffled his sweat covered hair.

“Don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Agreed,” you said. “Not even Ms. Peterson.”

“Not a single soul.”

You both faced each other, raising your brows, no longer from a glare or out of annoyance. Your body felt light. Your chest felt lighter. You were smiling.

“I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Kudos to us for surviving.”

A high five. And you both laughed, still feeling that flush of relief flow throughout your limbs. No one was in school yet. It was Saturday, though. No one but a few of the faculty members were going to show up.

But the sky looked pink, mixed with a bright yellowish orange. The driveway never looked so clean, and the breeze was so wonderfully cold, with the autumn leaves still floating on the grass and the roads, you just felt happy. Your lingering gaze on Jason helped with that bright smile.

As if twelve hours in the library was nothing. As if it wasn’t torture at all.

As if it was, in fact, the most fun you’ve had in a single night in a long, long time.

“Walk safe.”

“Bye, Todd.”

Walking towards opposite ends of the sidewalk, hands on your sides and not in your pockets like you usually would. You couldn’t stop grinning.

Sparing one last glance behind you, seeing him get on his motorcycle, you turned to the corner of the street.

-----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-------

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH PLS TELL ME YOU ENJOYED THAT CUZ I CERTAINLY DID

THE SINGING SCENE IS REALLY INSPIRED BY LIZ GILLIES (REMEMBER THE READER IS BASED ON JADE WEST) SO THE FAST CAR SINGING SCENE WAS ACTUALLY INSPIRED BY THIS VIDEO

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#Jason todd #Jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader fluff #Jason todd fluff #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #robin x reader #red hood x reader #red hood #robin #dc comics #batarella #batarella fluff #batarella angst #i don't hate you series #i don't hate you #jason todd x reader series #jason todd reader insert #batarella series

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twomoonstwosuns · 4 years

Text

in too deep.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: alcohol, smut (18+), swearing, age gap (reader over 18), everything consensual

word count: 4.0k

a/n: tag list is open, let me know if you wanna be added! feedback is greatly appreciated. also this whole series has gotten such a great response so thank you so much <3

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Do you want to go on a date with me?

Want to get a drink with me sometime?

You had rehearsed it in your head seventy time since you got ready for class that morning.

The only thing you didn’t have prepared was what he would do if he actually said yes.

You knocked on Poe’s office door, the momentum from your knuckles causing the door to move in place. “You wanted to see me?”

Poe gestured you in, pausing the cleanup of all the papers on his desk. He left the door open, the tiny glimmer of hope that office sex would happen going straight out the window.

“Yeah, I finally found that book for you.”

Poe pointed to the thick book on his desk. You walked in and picked it up, thumbing through a few pages in the middle. You had been talking to Kaydel before Poe’s class a few days prior about a paper you were starting to write but finding very few sources for and he had heard you, mentioning to you that he might have something that would help.

“Shit, this is heavy,” you said, putting it into your bag. “Thank you, really. I’ll try to get it back to you soon.”

“Take your time with it. There’s a lot of info you might find useful in there, you might need to keep it for a while to be thorough. It’s not exactly at the top of my reading list right now, so I won’t miss it.”

You smiled appreciatively. Your brain told you this was your opportunity, the question on the very tip of your tongue. You opened your mouth to speak, but Poe spoke first.

“There’s something else.” You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. He let out a heavy sigh as he busied himself with piling up the papers on his desk. “I have a date tonight.”

Your lips parted like you wanted to say something, only you realized you didn’t know what to say. You were quiet for a moment, clearing your throat as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

“Oh.” You feigned nonchalance, but your mind was racing with questions. You kept your face as neutral as possible. “Ok.”

Poe finally glanced up at you, looking for any signs of protest.

“I know what we’re doing is casual—“

“It is,” you replied a little too quickly. “I mean, it is. Casual.”

The added inflection of the word was not lost on Poe. His brow furrowed just a little as he studied you. You avoided his eye, instead adjusting the strap of your backpack.

“Thanks for letting me know.” You backed towards the door, finally meeting his eye and giving him a tight-lipped smile. “I gotta go, but have fun tonight.”

Poe opened his mouth to stop you as you turned away but he didn’t say anything. You had already rushed out. With his hands on his hips, he looked down at the papers in front of him, thinking how he kind of didn’t want to go on this date, but it was probably for the best that he did. He was getting too attached to whatever you called what you were doing. That didn’t stop the sting in his chest upon having to tell you.

But you did seem upset about it, and it posed a question in Poe’s mind: why would you be upset about that if you didn’t care?

Perhaps he was overthinking it, reading too much into it, but he couldn’t help but feel elated at the idea of you not being ok with him going on this date. He replayed your whole visit in his mind, from the moment you smiled at him to your face falling at his news. He told himself that there was in fact jealousy in your response, and Poe suddenly didn’t care if the date went well or not, because there wasn’t going to be a second one. He really hoped he was right about you, because maybe it meant you wanted a more than a physical relationship.

Stars know Poe did.

You waited until you were a safe distance away from Poe’s office to let out a loud sigh. A heavy weight landed on your chest and you wished you hadn’t stepped foot in his office. He interrupted you before you could ask him out, but you could’ve asked him not to go after he told you. But you didn’t, and you missed your chance.

“Y/N!” Karé greeted you happily as soon as you stepped foot in your apartment. “What do you say to going to Maz’s tonight? Celebrate the beginning of our last ever semester of undergrad?”

You dropped your backpack, thinking before nodding with a smile.

“Let’s do it.”

You quickly changed into something nicer and did your hair and makeup, meeting up with your roommates in a record thirty minutes. The walk to the bar was a cold one, but better than trying to deal with someone staying sober to drive home or worrying about leaving a car somewhere overnight.

Maz’s was a sports bar frequented by college kids Thursday through Saturday, though it was still popular amongst the locals. The owner, Maz Kanata, was an older woman with a zest for life so grand that she could keep up with hundreds of drunken college students each weekend. She got to know her customers and was a very well known by everyone.

“Alright, quick question before we start drinking,” you said as you slid into a booth with Jessika on your right and Karé across from you, two drinks in front of each of you. “Hypothetically, how would bring up possibly going on a date with the person you’re casually sleeping with who just so happens to be out on a date right now?”

Jessika nearly choked on her drink.

“Hypothetically? Since when do you want a relationship with your booty call?”

You glanced at Karé,who didn’t look as surprised as Jessika. Since your confession to her the night you came back from Poe’s, she had a feeling that you were feeling something different.

“I’ve been really enjoying myself with him lately. And the way he makes me feel…I just thought maybe we could get to know each other, see if it could go anywhere beyond physical. But I also don’t want to scare him away thinking I’m looking for commitment. And I don’t want to ruin what we already have going, which might happen if I ask for a date and he says no.” You expressed all of your concerns; the words just tumbling out like word vomit and you hadn’t even had a sip of alcohol yet.

“You said he’s out on a date right now?” Karéasked, giving you a sympathetic look. You nodded.

“My stomach dropped so hard when he told me. I’m surprised I managed to keep my cool.” You couldn’t help but glance at the time on your phone. It was still early in the evening, just getting to 7p.m., and you wondered if Poe was getting ready to leave or if he was already out. “I don’t know, maybe I should just be happy with what I’ve got. I might not get him for much longer if his date goes well.”

“I think you’re thinking too much.” Karésaid.

“If you told us who he is…” Jessika hinted, but you shut her down with a single look. She held her hands up defensively. “Alright, alright, I won’t ask again. All I can say then is go with your gut, not your heart. Just make sure you’re sober.”

You nodded in agreement as you took a sip of your drink. Your heart was telling you to go for it, risk getting it broken, but your gut was telling you to think about it. Was it really a good idea to get into a relationship with your professor?

Your night with Poe had not left your mind once. Everything from the subtle touch of his fingers in your hair and the lingering kiss he left on your forehead to the way he listened to you attentively without judgment was replaying on a constant loop. You also couldn’t help but think of the little things you’d become so fond of: the crinkle of his eyes and the dimple in his cheek when he smiled, the way he sometimes got passionately carried away when talking during class, and the way his tongue would peek out when he was heavily concentrated on something.

You were getting in so fucking deep that you didn’t know how you’d come out of this without a broken heart.

Two-for-ones turned into two more and soon you found yourself swaying drunkenly to whatever music was playing in the bar. You knew your limits, allowing yourself to enjoy your drinks to the point that you wouldn’t start pouring out all of your secrets. But you did get drunk enough to make some not-so-smart decisions, which is what you did when you stepped outside and called Poe. He didn’t answer his phone, but you left him a very explicit voicemail telling him how much you wanted to fuck him in that moment and all the things you wanted to do to him.

Like your thoughts, your dreams tended to get a little dirty when you drank too much.

You woke the next morning, slightly hungover with a deep desire and an ache in your core only Poe could fulfill. The smell of hash browns and bacon had wafted into your room, the thought of a greasy breakfast making your mouth water. Stepping into the kitchen, you immediately hid your face in the hood of your sweatshirt as your head throbbed, the sunlight glistening on the white snow and making it unbearably bright. Snap stood at the counter, a mug of coffee already made up and he handed it off to you.

“Were you at the bar last night?” You asked, taking a sip and relishing in the feeling of the hot drink warming your insides. Snap chuckled.

“You don’t remember?” You shook your head. “You three got drunk and barely made it down the block before you were walking into snow banks. Karé called me to come pick you guys up.”

“Coffee, breakfast, and a sober cab. I owe you so much,” you mumbled as he set food in front of you. “By the way, if the other two aren’t out here in fifteen minutes, I’m eating their breakfast.”

Snap sat down next to you, stealing a piece of bacon from your plate and getting his hand chased away by your fork. “Karé told me you had a rough night last night.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “My…friend had a date last night.”

“And you’re mad about that because…”

“Because it should be me out with him. I like him and he’s out with some other girl. God, I’m pathetic.”

“You’re not.” Snap assured you. “I don’t need to tell you that friends with benefit type relationships cause complications. You’re experiencing it right now. Just do what’s best for you and if things don’t work out like you want, I’ll gladly be your sober cab.”

You smiled and gave him your last piece of bacon. “You rock, Snap Wexley.”

“I know,” he said, standing up and taking away your empty plate. “Go shower, you smell like a distillery.”

You stuck your middle finger up at him as you walked out of the kitchen, a shower actually sounding very welcoming at that moment. Breakfast and your heart-to-heart with Snap hadn’t quelled the deep desire within you, and you nearly took care of it in the shower but stopped yourself. You expected Poe to ask you about the voicemail you left him, but what if he was still busy with his date this morning?

Your phone rang as you stood in your room in your towel and your heart jumped when Poe’s name flashed across the screen.

“You know, I was just thinking about you.”

“Funny, I was too.”

The question was out before you could stop it, and you mentally slapped yourself for sounding so pathetic.

“How was your date?”

“It was nice,”Poe said and you gulped, wondering how you were going to fake being excited for him. “Didn’t really feel a spark with her though, so I’m not going out with her again.”

You pulled the phone away from your mouth and let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said, not the least bit genuine. Poe had to hold back a laugh. His suspicions about you caring were correct.

“It is what it is,” he said. “I want to talk to you about that voicemail you left me last night.”

“What about it?” you teased. You knew exactly what he wanted to know.

“Are you planning on sharing the details of those ideas you had with me?”

“Maybe. What’re you doing later?”

“You, hopefully.”

“I’ll come over in a bit.”

“My door will be open for you.”

“See you soon.”

You hung up the phone, acutely aware that it probably wasn’t the best idea for you to go over there. But thanks to your dirty thoughts and dreams, you were practically shaking with arousal. You were addicted to him. He affected all of your senses.

And if you couldn’t have him the way you wanted, you’d have him in any way you could.

》》》

Just as he promised, Poe’s door was unlocked. You slipped inside quietly and were taking your winter layers off when Poe came around the corner. He was shirtless with a pair of dark grey sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips, the chain of his necklace glinting in the soft overhead light. You couldn’t help but gawk at him.

“I’m flattered, but you didn’t have to get all dressed up for me,” you said sarcastically.

“I figured we’d save a couple of steps,” he said as he took a few steps closer to you. His hair was damp and messy, like he had just finished drying it. You gulped as he took you in, eyeing you like a predator eyes its prey. “So, about that voicemail…”

You walked slowly into his apartment, deciding to toy with him a little bit. You took care not to touch him as you passed him.

“To be completely honest Poe, I don’t really remember what I said in that voicemail,” you said, running your hand across the top of the table. “But then I had this dream…”

You took your sweatshirt off, leaving you in a thin black tank that did nothing to hid the fact you didn’t bother to put on a bra. You looked at Poe over your shoulder with a smirk on your face. “…and that I remember very clearly.”

Poe chuckled lowly, throwing his head back and looking at you. “You’re a tease, you know that?”

You cocked your head to the side, licking your lips slowly while studying Poe. You crooked your finger at him, lust burning behind your eyes accompanied by a look of pure desire. Poe walked over to you, his curiosity spiking. You could see he was already starting to get hard at the mere thought of what you wanted to do, even though you hadn’t actually touched him yet. He pressed his body along yours, backing you against the side of the couch. His brown eyes roamed your face, memorizing every inch, every freckle, and every line, and you were sure you forgot how to breathe.

“Show me,” he demanded, his breath fanning over your lips as he grasped your hips. You let out an airy laugh and pressed your hand against his bare chest, your voice just barely above a whisper.

“Well, it started out like this…”

You leaned up, running your lips over the vein in his neck and following it up to his jaw, gently nipping at it. His grip on your hips tightened and he groaned when you wouldn’t put your lips against his own, where he really wanted them. You were drawing this out, teasing him as your hand floated down his chest and to the waistband of his sweatpants.

“And then…”

You said it so quietly that Poe felt the words against his skin rather than heard them. You gently took his bottom lip between your teeth, giving a gentle tug as your hand slipped into his hands and wrapped around the base of his cock. That was the final straw for Poe as he claimed your mouth with his. He grabbed the side of your neck as he tried to take control, but you had other plans. You took his hand off of your neck and pulled away, your cheeks flushed and lips swollen. He gazed at you through dark, hooded eyes, arching an eyebrow in interest at what you were going to do next.

You dropped down to your knees, one hand bringing his sweatpants down and the other applying a bit more pressure to his hardened cock. His head dropped back with a deep exhale as you took the head in your mouth. His hand found your hair and he tangled his fingers through your locks. With a flick of your wrist, you spread your saliva along his entire length. You ran your tongue along the underside of his cock before taking him fully in your mouth, your head bobbing as you sucked him off.

Your tongue swirled around the head and you looked up at him from your lashes. He was breathing heavily, his hands tightening in your hair whenever something felt particularly good. Your hand came up and cupped his balls, and he couldn’t help but springing his hips forward at the sensation.

“Fuck, sweetheart, that’s it.”

He was going to cum embarrassingly quickly. All his resolve flew out the window when he saw you looking over your shoulder at him with bedroom eyes, like he was a cool drink of water and you hadn’t had anything to drink in days. His hips bucked at the light scrape of your teeth, the feeling sending an unexpected jolt of pleasure through him.

“Stop.”

His cock left your mouth with a soft ‘pop’ and he pulled you up with his hand cupping your jaw. He stepped out of his sweatpants and you leaned in, not quite pressing your lips against his.

“I also seem to recall you saying something last week about bending me over a desk?”

You took a few steps back until you bumped into the table.

“It’s not a desk but I think it’ll still work.”

Poe followed you, turning you around so your back was against his chest. He locked one arm around your waist to keep you still. One hand gently pulled the strap of your tank top down, his mouth replacing where it laid on your shoulder while the other laid flat against your stomach, fingers splayed against your bare stomach and tracing small circles against your soft skin. You sighed dreamily as his lips sucked a mark onto the top of your shoulder, his teeth nipping just enough to send a jolt of heat straight to your core. You were positively dripping at this point. You pushed back against him, feeling his cock pressed against your back. Poe moved to the other shoulder, repeating the same action as you unhooked your arms from the straps. Your hand came up to cup the back of his head, your fingers tightening around his hair.

“Oh god, Poe…”

Poe dragged his lips from your shoulder up your neck, the wet trail stinging with cold with every breath he took against you. The smell of your hair was intoxicating. He enveloped the shell of your ear in his mouth, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth to make you whimper.

“Tell me what you want,” he growled. His hand dipped into your leggings, the groan he let out upon not finding another barrier vibrating against your skin. He rubbed lazy circles against your clit, putting just enough pressure on it to make you write in his embrace.

“You.” All of you; mind, body, you. Of course you’d never tell him that out loud. “Please, I need your cock inside me.”

Poe pushed your tank down your body, removing it along with your leggings and tossing them to the side. He pushed your body down onto the table, the wood cold against your breasts. You moaned as he ran his fingers along your pussy, feeling just how wet you were.

“You’re soaked,” he sounded pleased with himself and you gave him a small roll of your eyes. As if he didn’t know he had this effect on you. You bucked your hips against his fingers, needing to be filled to dull the ache of your pussy.

“Poe, don’t tease, please.”

Poe had a smartass remark on the tip of his tongue, something along the lines of how you had teased him and not being able to take what you dished out. But he was painfully hard and the way you were bent over for him with all of you on display made him not want to wait anymore. He guided his cock to your entrance and slid inside. The sudden intrusion made your lips part with a soft cry, the new angle allowing him to feel like he was impossibly deeper inside you. He didn’t wait for you to adjust, instead pulling out almost all the way and snapping his hips back home.

You expected it to be rough, but each thrust was deep and deliberate. Poe was making sure he put everything he felt into each snap of his hips. He wanted this, but he also wanted you. He held your hips tightly, finger-shaped bruises sure to be there later on. You rocked back against him with whatever strength you had, your hands desperately trying to grip the flat tabletop. You felt everything from this angle, the ridges of his cock against your tight walls and the table rubbing against your clit as your body moved. The sensation was overwhelming.

Your moans increased in volume as he increased his pace, both of your releases just out of reach. You had been so worked up before you got to his apartment that it didn’t take much for you to feel the heat low in your belly and the coil getting ready to snap. Poe hauled you upright, one hand tweaking your hardened nipples and the other rubbing your clit with ferocity. You clenched around his cock as your orgasm washed over you, your head falling back onto his chest. Poe wasn’t far behind, thrusting his hips once, twice into your sensitive pussy before spilling inside of you.

He held you against him as he pulled out of you, the mixture of your cum dripping down your leg. He then squeezed your hip, bringing your attention to him.

“We forgot a—“

“It’s fine,” you panted, realizing the same thing. “I’m on the pill.”

Poe set you carefully on the tabletop, stepping away from you and coming back with a washcloth. He cleaned up between your thighs, the gesture one of those little things he did that made your heart race. He tossed it aside and stood over you, hands on either side of your hips as he eyed the marks he left all over your neck and shoulders.

“Think you have a few more in you?”

You laughed.

“For you? Always.” You slid off the table, your legs still regaining strength. “But maybe in like five minutes.”

Poe smirked at you before leaning down and hoisting you over his shoulder. Your laugh was music to his ears, a beautiful song he wanted to play on repeat. You swatted his ass as he stepped over the discarded clothing and took you into his bedroom.

tag list [open!] - @ah-callie @darksideofclarke @gloomygoregirl @leilei-draws @imaginecrushes @i-ievu @brianamaree @yeeintensifies @spider-starry @krazykatkay456 @fanfiction-trashpile @afootnoteinyourhappiness

#poe dameron smut #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader insert #poe dameron #modern au #modern poe dameron #smut #back to you series

255 notes · View notes

be-the-spark-flyboy · 4 years

Text

Crush

A/N: I had way too much fun writing this. Thx @writefightandflightclub for making me a Poe hoe ;)

Pairing: Poe x reader (fem!)

Warning: Swearing, suggestive themes, fluff, Poe Dameron

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: The crush you have on Poe is common knowledge, but what is he going to do with that information?

PART 2 - Tension

You and Poe were smashed up together in a broom closet. Not in the sexy, “their chest pressed against each other, his breath fanning their face” way. More like sweaty, gross and stuck in an awkward position, manner. His shoulder was digging into your hips. Poe had knelt down in that tiny space to retrieve the data chip you had dropped in your haste to shove yourself in the hiding spot and lo and behold, he got stuck. You tried not to pass out from the excessive heat and the leather jacket you wore wasn't helping in the least.

“….I don’t think we thought this through very well,” you mumbled from above him.

“I could have told you that about ten fuck ups ago.” Poe shot back, leaning his head against the door with a thump. You winced at the sound though no one could have heard it from the outside. Music blared in every corner of the club. You moved to peel the layer of leather off yourself.

“What are you doing?“ Poe hissed at you. You were sure you could've spotted an irritated scowl on his face if there was any amount of lighting in the broom closet. But you couldn't bring yourself to care at the moment.

“I’d do you more harm than good if I passed out,“ you huffed. Poe shifted to make more room for you but it was inevitable that your chest was going to brush up against his head at one point. It was not at all awkward when the heavy leather smacked against the back of his head when you finally managed to shrug it off. You whispered an apology.

Your face burned and you still felt warm despite having removed the leather jacket. Maybe things wouldn't have been so awkward if the entire base hadn't known about the colossal crush you had on the man on his knees before you. You were more than sure Poe knew too. Word traveled like wildfire in the resistance. You really would’ve thought twice before joining the game of truth or dare if you just weren't so shit faced that day. Or if you knew you were to join him on a mission less than two months after the unfortunate incident.

After what felt like an eternity, the music finally stopped and the doors slammed shut after the last pair of foot shuffled out, leaving the whole place in eerie silence. Poe passed you his blaster.

“Alright, I think we’re clear,” he signaled and you blasted the lock, the door swinging open with the force. You practically moaned when the cool air hit your face as you stumbled out. Poe tumbled out in a graceless heap behind you, swearing when he could finally stretch his legs out.

“At least we got the chip,“ you tried not to sound so exhausted. “Now we can head back.” Poe nodded. You collected the discarded jacket from the floor and the two of you left.

------------------------------------------------

Poe hung his head in defeat and sighed heavily. He had been looking out the window at the heavy storm whipping around since you both had decided it would be unwise to try and fly in this weather. You’d taken a nice warm shower and now laid on the motel bed, datapad in hand trying to decode the chip.

The entire mission had been unbelievably draining as you and Poe spent the past 6 days trailing the target halfway across the galaxy to every kind of sketchy settlement you could think of. You’d barely slept, tracking his ship for days. The past two days were worse. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. From the both of you almost getting caught trying to sneak into the target’s room, to you getting locked in a walk-in freezer and the both of you being trapped in that broom closet for at least 2 whole hours. And for the cherry on top, your feelings towards Poe only seemed to get stronger, while the man showed no signs of reciprocating any of it. That hurt a little.

You absent-mindedly curled your damp hair around your fingers, trying to focus your blurry eyes on the datapad as Poe finally moved away from the window. He laid on the bed facing you, with his head propped up against his knuckles.

“You know you don’t have to finish this right away right? Go get some rest, you can finish up at the base tomorrow.“ He said. You just stared at him. You couldn't help yourself. Maker, he was gorgeous. A crown of curly dark hair sitting so perfectly on his head. His shirt unbuttoned at the top giving you the barest hint of his chest. His lips parted slightly as he gave you an inquisitive look. Only then did you register his words. You cleared your throat, abruptly looking anywhere but at him, hoping you hadn't stared too long. Hoping he hadn't noticed.

“Um, you should get some rest too,” you choked out, mildly surprised you could even find your voice. Poe’s lips curled up into a teasing smirk at how quickly colour had risen to your face. Of course he noticed, that damn bastard.

“Then you wouldn't mind if I shared your bed, would you?“ Now you just stared at him in disbelief. What? Oh no. Oh no no no.

“What’s wrong with yours?“ you asked. You didn’t mean to sound that rude but Poe didn’t seem to mind. Your brain promptly proceeded to short circuit as he pushed himself up on his elbows straight into your personal space.

“Nothing, it's just so cold sleeping alone,“ he answered. “I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he said giving you a dopey smile. Then fell back into the pillow beside yours and made himself comfortable.

No, you didn't want him to keep his hands to himself. Why did the universe hate you so much? You wanted nothing more than for Poe to kiss the living daylights out of you. And yet he was right there lying not a foot away from you, making no move, giving you no other hint that he might, somewhere deep in his heart, have some sort of feelings towards you too.

The storm continued howling outside the window, and you decided that you’d at least get some sleep before the sun came up. Switching the lights off, you slipped under the covers and faced the ceiling, willing sleep to claim you.

It didn't. You tossed around a few times trying to get more comfortable but nothing did it. And it started getting colder as the storm only got stronger.

“You still awake?“ Poe asked. You turned around to face him, clutching your blankets closer to yourself. “Are you cold?”

You shook your head at that. Just then, a violent shudder went down your spine. “N-no I'm n-not,” you insisted, shivering. There was enough light streaming in from the streets outside for you to recognize the amused look on his face.

“Well, I'm cold. Can I come closer?“ Poe tried again.

You were sure if you tried to speak your teeth would just start chattering. So you opted to just nod your head. Poe shifted closer to you and wrapped an arm around you pulling you into him. You immediately melted into his warmth.

“Is this okay?” his voice dropped lower now and you nodded once again, already feeling yourself drifting off.

---------------------------------------

The morning light gently streamed in from the windows as Poe woke up feeling so warm and soft like he was going to sink right down to the bottom of the bed. His head was resting against your chest and your arms were wrapped around his neck. His arm was going numb under your waist but Poe didn't want to move. He just moved his arm from your waist and twisted around to check the time. It still wasn’t too late into the day so he decided he was going to bask in your warmth a little longer. Sure you wouldn’t mind.

A little more than a month ago, Poe had literally dragged Snap along with him to you when he heard about “the cute engineer girl with a crush on Poe”. He promptly lost all of his guts when Snap found you in the cantina with your nose buried in a book, chewing on a pen in your hand. You seemed so focused on your task at hand, the steaming cup of caf forgotten on the table beside you. A few strands of hair that escaped your messy bun, fell framing your face. You sat at one corner of the cantina in your own world, paying absolutely no mind to anything happening around you. He’ll never admit that he sat a few tables away and stared at you the whole time, watching you go about your day, like a total creep. He lost his favourite jacket to Snap that day to keep him silent about it.

After that, he’d see you around the base quite often, but you always seemed busy with something or surrounded with people and he’d tell himself he’ll talk to you next time. Until that fateful day when Leia had summoned Poe to brief him on his next mission. “Retrieving” a set of blueprints from a first-order sympathizer, paired with the resistance's best electrical engineer. Who so happened to be you. You had shaken his hand with a professional smile. No hint of whatever crush he had heard of.

He had gone back to Snap and grilled him about the details. How did he know about you? When did it happen? Was he sure it's true? Snap told him to not overthink and just go the fuck to sleep.

After the two of you had left base, you’d behaved professionally albeit a little nervous about your first field mission. Poe had tried to reassure you that you’d be fine and every time you’d smile at him and say “Thanks Poe,” in a soft voice. And every time Poe would nod and walk away before you could see the colour rapidly rise in his face.

Now here he was, wrapped up in your arms and your leg thrown over his, the sleep shorts you were wearing barely covering much of your thighs. He really didn’t mean to sound like a creepy stalker, but he just couldn’t pull those thoughts out of his head when it came to you. Maybe it was the fact that he knew that you were attracted to him too.

Poe was almost fully convinced that the rumour about your crush on him was fake, until you’d stared at him like that the night before. Like you where going to jump him right there. And he wanted you to. He would’ve toyed with you way sooner if he’d known this is how the two of you would end up. Tangled up in sheets in the bed together, though not in the way he wanted but this was quite enough for him.

You slowly started shifting. Poe thought you had finally awaken but you just sleepily tugged him closer to you and buried your face in his hair. Now Poe was sure his heart was beating out of his chest. You suddenly seem to realize your compromising positioning. You had absolutely no memory of how you ended up cuddling Poe, and your entire body felt suddenly felt hot from the embarrassment. Hoping he wasn’t awake yet, you jerked your face away from his hair and quickly went to untangle your limbs from his. But Poe held you in place.

“There’s still time, we don’t have to leave yet.“ Poe told you, his gravelly voice sending shivers down your spine. He shifted his head to look up at you. “I mean, if you’re okay with it?“ His big brown eyes hooded with sleep made you melt on the spot, and of course you agreed.

Satisfied with you answer, Poe went back to nuzzling your neck. You willed yourself to calm down before he heard your heart jack-hammering against your ribs. Poe slid his palm from your waist to your thigh, hoisting you leg higher up his hips and every thought flew right out of you head.

Poe started grazing the tip of his nose against your neck and the only thing you could focus on was not trembling against him. Heat pooled between your legs as he continued his merry way up your neck and then back down again, this time brushing his lips against your skin. Your breath came in shallow pants as he dragged his teeth along your collarbone, soothing the sting with tiny kitten licks. You could’ve sworn you felt his lips part in a smile when you tangled your fingers in his thick curls. Your eyes fell shut on its own accord when he wrapped his lips around your skin and sucked. You couldn’t stop the broken whimper that slipped past your lips.

Poe fucking Dameron, commander of the black squadron, resistance’s best pilot and grade A asshole, decided that he was going to pull away from you at that exact fucking moment. You sat up in confusion as he got up from the bed, looked at you with wide-eyed innocence and said, “We gotta leave soon if you wanna get back to base on time.” Then left you there with a look of disbelief etched all over your face.

He did NOT just-

#poe x reader #poe dameron #star wars #sw #poe dameron fanfiction #fluff #poe fluff

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domesticblisss · 3 years

Text

Näher | Pt.03

Walter x Female Reader; Axel Dieter Jr. (Marcel Barthel) x Female Reader (Nicknamed ‘Hase’) Mob AU! Rating: Mature (Minors DNI) Word Count: 1677 Warnings: Smut. PiV, oral (male receiving), fingering. Summary: Walter is jealous of Hase and Axel Pt.01 | Pt.02

Being with Walter has been something else. I moved in with him on the same day I agreed to work? fuck? be his play toy? anyway, I’m still trying to understand what our relationship actually is.

Work is relatively easy, pretty similar to what I used to do on my previous job. Finances, business administration, the usual. Walter always comes to me when he needs inputs on how to get something done, it felt nice to have my knowledge and capacity finally being recognised.

As to my sex life... well, it went from constantly putting batteries on my shopping list to having to take the day off because I could barely walk. Walter had this drive that was hard to keep up with. It was when he wanted, where he wanted, how he wanted and trust me, I’m not complaining. I haven’t felt this good in such a long time.

I am getting to know the other guys too. Tim is super nice and smart but very quiet too, Alex took a while to warm up to me. Being Walter’s right-hand man, he was very weary of my arrival, which I don’t blame him, they ran a serious business and who would trust a person that came out of nowhere? He did end up liking me, liking me so much that he became the father figure I never had and lectured Walter whenever he was being too harsh with me. Fabian was the sweetest person ever, calm, very friendly, made feel so welcome when I first arrived. He always made sure I was comfortable while he and Axel trained me (Walter asked me to take a few self-defence lessons, just in case). And Axel, well our relationship was the same thing we had in high school. We would go out, get drunk and go home in the early hours of the morning, order shitty takeout food to eat while watching even shittier movies. Sometimes it felt like Walter was jealous of us together. He would look at me with a face that showed that I let him down every time I came home in the morning after a night out with Junior or, when we were watching movies together, he would sit next to us and sigh and mumble incoherent things all the time. I always brushed it off and hoped that Axel never noticed it.

Today was a slow day, the business pretty much running itself. Walter and I were on his office, and while he was talking on the phone with his gun dealer, I read a copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s best works that he had in his library. He got off the phone, shook his head and let a defeated sigh.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I asked him without taking my eyes off the book so he wouldn’t notice the panicked look on my face when I realised I slipped up with the pet name. “Baby?” “I’m sorry.” “Say it again.” “I’m sorry.” “Not that, what you said before.” “Baby?”

“Come here.” he asked so softly while he patted his lap for me to sit on it. So, I did. I left my place on the chair on the other side of his desk, took of my heels, raised my shirt high enough so I could comfortably straddle his lap. As soon as I did, he held me close to him, hugging me, hiding his face on my neck, and inhaling. He stayed there for a little while and I respected his silence, the only sound around us was from the old record player playing Rolling Stones. I kept scratching his scalp, trying to soothe him for a bit. He mumbled something on my skin that I couldn’t really hear. “Can’t understand you, Baby.” “He said that the shipment will take longer than expected to arrive. Our usual route that passes by the Czech Republic got compromised and he’ll have to make a new one, probably by the sea.” “Is there anything else that we can do?” “No, he’s taking care of everything.” “Good, don’t worry then. Everything will be alright.” I gave him a little peck on the lips to punctuate it.

I positioned my elbows back on top of his table, to give him a better look. I was met back with a look of adoration, that felt really nice coming from him. “You’re so beautiful, you know that? Inside and out.”

I blushed and didn’t have the words to answer him. He noticed it and brought my lips back to his, kissing me softly and slowly taking off my shirt. He pulled my bra down enough so he could play with my breasts. We stayed like for a little while, just taking in each other.

We didn’t hear the knock on the door, noticing someone was entering the room when it was too late. “Walter, did Mack call y—“ Axel froze in place when he saw us. Walter’s demeanour changed completely when he realised who interrupted us. The soft touch he had on my breasts turned into a painful pinch on my nipple. “Junior, come here. Lock the door, please.” Axel did as he was told. “Walter, I’m sorry I interrupted you guys...” “No, no. It’s fine. Get up, honey. Junior, you always had a crush on her, right?” I couldn’t say anything, just stared at him. When I tried to get my bra in place, he held my hand. “C’mon, Junior. Cat got your tongue? Answer. You liked her, didn’t you?” “I did for a while during high school, yes.” Axel answered, blushing. “So fuck her.” Walter said as he pushed me towards Axel. “Walter, I don’t thin—“ I mouthed ‘don’t’ to him, better not to confront Walter in this mood. “It’s fine! I’m sure our little hure would love to! Go on, honey, make him cum. I’ll just sit here.” he said has he went back to his chair.

I held Axel’s hand whispering to him that it was fine. He kissed me gently, guiding me the couch that was positioned under the window, behind Walter’s desk. Walter turned around to continue to look at us with an amused expression. Axel’s touch was different. Gentler, calmer, almost apologetic, a very big contrast to Walter’s. He helped me take the rest of my clothes off and laid me down gently on the on the couch and proceeded to take his own clothes off. He kissed me again, with a bit more force this time, his hands roaming my body and it found its way to my core, where he rubbed my clit gently. He stayed like this for a while, then inserted two digits to prepare me for his length. His touch was precise and determined, giving me an orgasm quickly. He repositioned us, both kneeling on the couch, him behind me, his right arm holding me by my waist. Switching his fingers with his cock, he rocked us slowly, in such an agonising pace. Noticing how torturous it was for me, he picked up speed and I met his thrusts halfway. I took one hand to my heat and started playing with myself. Wasn’t long until another wave hit me. Axel started whimpering and Walter’s voice boomed, “Junior, are you close?” making us stop. “Yes.” “Hase, get down on your knees. Suck him and stop only when he comes.” So I did. I started slow, kitten licks on his head, one long stripe up on its underside. Back to its head, tongue swirling, taking more and more of him, deep throating him until I gagged, spit running down my chin. I kept going like this until he came on mouth and I made sure Walter saw I swallowed it all. “Open your mouth, honey.” I did as he said and he spat inside it, closing my mouth so I swallowed it too. “Isn’t she great? You can leave now, Junior.”

I quickly dressed myself again and sat on the couch waiting for Axel to leave. He did without saying anything, only shooting me an apologetic look. When he closed the door, I went straight to Walter’s face. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, but Axel is my best friend and I assume he is yours too. Don’t you even think about doing anything to him, you understand me? I’ll fucking end you if I see one hair out of place in his head, got it?” “Oh, mein hase, I’m not doing anything with any of you. I’ve seen how you two are together, you should hear how he used to talk about you before we met. That boy adores you and I know you reciprocate it. I see how you two look at each other, the lingering stares, and the soft touches. You can fuck him whenever you want, hell, you can fuck any of the boys whenever you want. I just made it easier for both you.” I looked at him to see if he was lying, but I never got a more sincere look him that this. “Fine, I’m going home.”

He sighed and grabbed my hand, kissing it.

“Liebe, come here.” He got me on his lap again. “Look, I’m sorry about this. I’m just jealous of how the two of you are with each other, I know there’s a lot of love there and it’s not the same between us. I hope it will be like this one day.” He confessed. I kept staring at him, my mind going a thousand miles per hour.

“You should talk more, express your feelings more. It looks good on you. Who told you I don’t love you? Because I do. It’s just hard to express because you don’t open yourself enough for others, and it’s okay to open yourself up, that’s not a sign of weakness. I love you, okay?” “I love you.” He repeated. “I love you.” And I kissed him. “Oh, good to know I have a free pass. Think I’ll fuck Tim next. Bet he gives good head.” “Hase…”

→

#walter x reader #walter imagines #marcel barthel x reader #marcel barthel imagine #wrestling imagines #DB Writes

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dercolaris · 3 years

Text

Eleonora

Here you go, @temarcia - already done and translated. Scriddler of course. It’s extremly sad, but welp, I can’t help it. Sort of my style tbh.

Thanks again to @shin-arei for helping me with the translation <3

The fitting song:

https://youtu.be/ZzqTGTAuzLw

Uhm, yeah.. Have fun everyone..

The faint rustling of the wind slipped through the leaks in the dirty window, filling the small room with an unusual background noise. Jonathan lay completely motionless on the soft mattress, just listened to the fascinating sounds around him and registered slightly light-headed how the environment around him slowly changed. He blinked a few times against the persistent darkness, then smiled dejectedly. Basically, those noises were all he had left. As much as the former psychiatrist wished, his eyesight would never return. Hoping for it was a waste of time. The thin man turned on his side and ran his right hand over the velvety fabric of the bedspread. It tickled slightly, leaving an almost pleasant tingling sensation on his demolished skin. The brown-haired man mumbled to himself: "One would think that I would have got used to this eternal darkness, but to say this would be a bold lie." The Master of Fear sighed softly. Speaking his thoughts out loud at least gave him the deceptive impression that someone was right by his side and would give a meaningful answer after a while.

The reality was of course different. That longed-for answer would probably never come. He was a prisoner of his own nightmare and every attempt to break out of it failed miserably due to the fact that no one could turn back time. There was no hope. No light. Just darkness. Jonathan dug his fingers deeply into the warming fabric, burying his face in the comfortable pillow under his head. His body began to tremble by itself. The former psychiatrist didn't really mind the chilling temperature around him, but that evening the coldness held him in her icy hands. A stranglehold he couldn't really escape. The thin man suddenly felt a single tear find its way over a multitude of scars on his cheek and slowly slide down. He wiped his cool skin quickly. This whiny behavior was more than unacceptable for a seasoned academic like him. A thickening lump in his throat, however, indicated that all his efforts to stand against his feelings would fail at some point that night. You could ignore the sadness, banish it, deny it, curse it - in the end it would surface and lead to a downright collapse. With this in mind wasn't it actually wiser to give in to this inner urge to show emotional weakness? Now that he was alone?

The brown-haired man sat on the edge of the bed and put his hands on his knees. A few seconds passed without anything happening, brought a frightening realization for the criminal. He couldn't cry. Jonathan clenched his knees. No more tears would come. He couldn't really give his feelings the needed space, even if it would give him some relief in his troubled soul. It just didn't work. The spiral of thoughts in his mind was spinning again without ceasing. His left hand slid sideways into his straw-like hair and held the heavy head uncertainly on his thin fingers. He chewed his lower lip almost helplessly, staring at the floor with his blind eyes. The Master of Fear was about to rise from the bed when he heard a suspicious noise from the corridor. Out of habit, his opals looked at the door, or at least roughly in its direction. His brain still pretended to recognize shadows and outlines that he had seen sometime before the incident. Well-known places were impressively reconstructed from his memory. It doesn't matter whether these have changed drastically in the meantime.

This often led to unexpected difficulties in his orientation. In general, the familiar gave him security, and every novelty around him immediately stumbled him. The former psychiatrist listened into the darkness. Was it possible that he had just misheard? Quiet steps in the hallway quickly ruled out this possibility. Despite the noises, the gaunt man felt no fear or discomfort. He didn't own anything of value in his apartment and if a homeless person was content to use his nearly empty refrigerator, it shouldn't matter to him anymore. The brown-haired man had stopped eating two weeks ago. His hunger had long since passed and this circumstance made it at least possible for him to stay in his home. Nothing would be worse than wandering around outside Gotham in his wrecked condition to the amusement of all the gleeful people on the streets. The former psychiatrist pressed a hand to his cramping stomach. Even if the stomach occasionally rebelled, in the end it gave up constantly crying out for food. Most likely, the organ knew that this would remain just a wish and that nutrients would no longer force their way into the esophagus.

The pain slowly subsided. A cold wind played around his bony figure. The Master of Fear had long since decided on a quick way out of life and it was only a matter of time before death would knock on his door. It wasn't the plan to actually go the long road of starvation, but as long as he didn't know exactly how to do it, there was at least the hope of not waking up one morning due to lack of energy. The steps in the corridor came slowly closer and suddenly fell silent on the other side of the door. The thin man waited cautiously. The screeching of the hinges snuggled painfully against his ears, signaling that someone was entering the room. There was a thud, and then - silence. Suddenly it had become so quiet. Where was the wind? Where were the cracking branches? Where were the ravens in the tree tops? Jonathan looked around, disoriented, looking in the dark for the unannounced visitor.

After a while he heard the unusually low voice of an old friend: “Hey John. Don't worry, yeah. It's just me.” The former psychiatrist tried to fake a smile. Slight goose bumps crept down his back and gradually spread over his skin. He looked in the direction of the visitor and spoke in an alarming weak voice: "Edward. What a pleasant surprise. I'm very happy to see you again.” Those words hurt more than he expected. The former psychiatrist closed his eyes and heavily swallowed his emerging emotions. He heard the quiet steps again. Suddenly the tinkerer sat down next to him, the mattress gave way under the weight of the black-haired man. The Riddler breathed evenly, a long-forgotten warmth emanating from his body. The younger one finally spoke calmly: “You can hardly talk about seeing me again, right? I heard what happened and, yeah, how should I say that. I'm sorry, John.” The Master of Fear shrugged his shoulders slightly. Before he could reply, the other went on quietly: “I wasn't sure whether I should really come over or not. I mean, after the whole Waylon thing, you suddenly distanced yourself from everything and everyone and stopped showing yourself in public. Fuck, the underground has already made bets on whether you are dead or not."

The lean man laughed dryly at this message. He shuddered from the surrounding cold and had the strong impulse to take refuge in the warm embrace of the inventor. Contrary to his wishes, he replied exhausted: “I hope you were right with your bet. As you can see, I'm still alive.” To his astonishment, Edward didn't react calmly as usual. He didn't seem to be particularly amused by the statement. As if to confirm, the black-haired man hissed under clenched teeth: “It's not funny at all, John. Seriously. I just got half a shock when I walked in the door. You got so damn thin. Is there anything left at all? Only skin and bones it seems. When was the last time you ate something?” The former psychiatrist pressed his lips tightly together and stared at the floor in dismay. There was an awkward silence. Suddenly the older man felt the hand of the inventor on his. The Riddler slowly put his fingers around his, warmed his chilled skin. Even without his eyesight, the Master of Fear knew that the other was staring at him, waiting for answers.

He finally replied hesitantly: "I'm fine Edward. I don't need any help.” Both knew that this claim was nothing more than a lie. The younger one tightened the grip on his hand and didn't seem to let go of it again. Jonathan only shivered harder. The contrast between the inviting warmth of the black-haired man and his dying body increased with every passing second. He really wanted to be close, but at the same time there was a nagging fear of rejection. A monster like him was no longer allowed to receive affection. The tinkerer grumbled sourly: “You can fool the rest of the world, John, but not me. Should I put a funnel in your mouth and stuff you with food until you have some meat on your ribs again? Or would you prefer a cursed feeding tube? Your fucking decision.” The brown-haired man winced noticeably. He knew that he had always meant a lot to the younger man. Probably more than he wanted to admit.

There was a deeply hidden passion between them that had grown with each meeting in the past and almost exploded before his imprisonment. Only their worthless pride had prevented them from giving in to their lust in the end. But this was once upon a time. Jonathan was more than certain that the inventor had only come to him out of pity and would now look around for a more handsome partner. After all, the inventor wasn't exactly unattractive. Edward suddenly sighed softly and seemed to be reaching for something on the floor. Probably his shoulder bag. The black-haired man spoke calmly: “I brought you something. You have told me often enough that you love Edgar Allan Poe and that I should read something from him when I got the chance. I followed your advice.” With these words he put an arm around the older man and pulled him closer to his chest. He gasped in surprise, but did not evade the embrace.

He could hear the Riddler open a book and slowly turn the pages. Jonathan's heart suddenly began to beat faster. A few seconds passed before the younger one finally started reading aloud: "Eleonora by Edgar Allan Poe from 1842. I am come of a race noted for vigor of fancy and ardor of passion." The inventor's voice lit up the room with its soft sound, penetrating like a light through the darkness. The Master of Fear listened carefully. An indefinable feeling spread in his soul, touched him at points that he believed he had lost for a long time. Each additional line of the short story carried the gaunt man on, taking him to places he had avoided out of fear. Places of memories. Mostly memories of better times.

Tears pooled in his gray eyes, slowly running down his cheeks and falling unchecked off his chin. Edward, however, just read on, bravely struggled through the sometimes difficult formulations. "… for the Spirit of Love reigneth and ruleth, and, in taking to thy passionate heart her who is Ermengarde, thou art absolved, for reasons which shall be made known to thee in Heaven, of thy vows unto Eleonora.” The Riddler finished the short story, carefully closed the book. He apparently put it aside and finally wrapped his other arm tightly around the trembling figure beside him. The former psychiatrist cried silently, his weak fingers clutching the black-haired man's shoulders tightly. Edward whispered hoarsely: "John, I ask you, whatever you do, do not give up. I can really take a lot of your bullshit. Your hatred, your scorn, your rejection. If you scream in my ear right away that I should please get the fuck out of your life, that's okay too, just please don't die. I would not stand that. Your death is also my end and I'm afraid of dying so early in my life.”

The brown-haired man pressed his eyes tighter together and only held on to the younger man even more. The tinkerer slowly put the blanket around their body, giving the former psychiatrist the long-awaited warmth. The silence this time was extraordinarily beautiful. Reassuring. Balm for a broken soul. The younger one finally pulled him onto his lap and closed his arms around his narrow hips, pressing his fingertips into the worn clothes. Jonathan's lips quivered when he breathed softly: "Don't let go of me, Edward. Please, don't go. Stay."

#DC #Batman #arkham verse #Jonathan Crane #edward nygma #riddler #scarecrow #scriddler #riddlecrow #temarcia

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voleurdesoleil-archive · 3 years

Text

Rub a dub

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Pairing: Nate x gender neutral detective

word count: 4.6k

read on ao3

It was late afternoon, judging by the warm rays of sunlight still coming through the high windows of the library where I had spent the whole day with Nate. The sunrays were creating halos in which dust was slowly floating around, as if Time had slowed dramatically in the library to let us enjoy each other’s presence a bit longer.

This book-filled day had started with me telling the vampire about wanting to improve my Spanish, which we did at first. And to be fair, he was an excellent teacher. I could now see why Farah was so proud of him. But we had stopped long ago, favoring reading instead, although Nate had insisted on me reading a Spanish book. It will help you with your vocabulary, he said, flashing me a soft smile.

But Spanish was far from our minds in this instant.

At some point during our reading, Nate had switched positions and was now lying comfortably in my laps. I had discarded my book to the side as I couldn’t focus on what I was reading with him in such close proximity. So I listened to his gentle voice as he was reading some Spanish novel, the words flowing out like a river of the sweetest honey. I watched his face closely, looking at every micro expressions he would make, such as the slight twitch of his mouth when something amusing came on in the book or the gentle frown that would settle in between his eyebrows as something not as loving was happening.

The sunlight made his eyes come alive, and the emotions he held in them were much more visible. Their color reminded me of the dark, varnished, most definitely antique furniture he had here, in his small sanctuary. His glossy hair was a little messy from moving around in my lap and I just couldn’t help myself but start gently playing with it, which I could notice awoke an immediate reaction within him.

Nate’s whole body relaxed as I raked my fingers through his beautiful hair. His reading came to a stop but I only noticed because his previously closed eyes were now peering into my own, curiously, studying my features, just like I did with him a moment before, in silent wonder. His deep gaze swept over my face slowly, like he was memorizing every feature of my face in fear that I would disappear.

My body reacted before my mind could comprehend what it was doing. I reached out a hand towards his face slowly, careful not to burst the bubble we had put ourselves into. With a breath stuck in my throat, I leaned closer and followed closely what they were doing. His skin was so incredibly soft and warm making my lips tingle at the thought of kissing him there. I enjoyed how he seemed to melt into my touch, his expression so open and welcome, making me wonder about confessing my feelings for him. Surely he would know already but there’s something about actually saying those words out loud that makes it much more real.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when a warm hand took mine and the softest pair of lips kissed my palm. My train of thought crashed through the front of my head and disappeared outside and suddenly any rational thought looked like a far away dream. The mischievous glint in his eyes tells me he knows exactly how this affected me and that he is very much pleased with it, like he was counting on it.

In a futile attempt to regain my composure I spoke up, my voice almost cracking with every word. “Rebecca said most of these books belong to you, do you have any favorites?”

Nate’s eyes lit up, our bubble bursting as he immediately stood up. “I do! I have a lot of favorites actually!” The vampire started walking around the room excitedly, like a kid in a toy shop during Christmas season, meticulously pulling out books of the many shelves as if he knew exactly where each one would be. Disappearing for a moment, he kept on rambling, his voice sometimes barely audible as he was moving away through the rows of bookshelves. “Being able to read in multiple languages is an absolute gift when it comes to books, first of all, it just gives me more books to read, because a lot of foreign books aren’t being translated into English, except for classics, but mostly because those translations are awful!” When he reappeared, he was holding a pile of books taller than him, and I couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at how cute and overjoyed Nate looked. He carefully set the wobbling pile down on the coffee table before sitting back on the sofa next to me.

The pile was composed of mostly classics; Songs of Innocence, Leaves of Grass, Songs and Sonnets and a couple more collections of poetry. Authors such as Jane Austen, Edgar Allan Poe or Ernest Hemingway. The Catcher in the Rye, Wuthering Heights, The picture of Dorian Grey, A Midsummer Night’s Dream and many more, but one in particular caught my attention.

“A book about burning books, really?” I said, holding up Fahrenheit 451. I could understand why it was one of his favorites as it was also one of mines but, seeing how much he cared for his books, I couldn’t help but tease him.

To my utmost surprise, I could spot a few more contemporary books in there too.

“Percy Jackson?”

He started scratching the back of his neck, as I was pulling the series towards me. He owned the most beautiful edition I had ever seen. “Well I wouldn’t say it’s a favorite quite yet, but if I had to be completely honest, I’ve really enjoyed them and the whole universe, and this guy is actually one of the few to get his myths right, so it’s really close to being a favorite if that makes sense.” He gave me a sheepish smile.

“I can’t really blame you on that. I’ve read them way too many times not to have them as part of my own favorites.” I admitted with a laugh.

He was now sorting the books by languages in different piles. One pile in particular caught my eye and I leaned forward to read the spines. Les faux-monnayeurs, L’Oeuvre, La Peste, Parle-leur de batailles, de rois et d’éléphants, or Les Contemplations. I had to admit that seeing some of those titles had stirred in me a feeling I would have never expected: Nostalgia. Some of those books were part of my own collection, although mines did look a bit more worn out, as I had studied them back in High school, whereas Nate’s were in pristine condition, but some of them also held a special place in my heart. Just like the French language did.

“French books,” Nate said as he noticed where my focus had shifted.

His voice took me out of my trance. “You speak French?” I blurted out. “I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised because Farah did say you knew a lot of languages, but I never would’ve guessed French would be one of them.”

“Well…” his voice trailed off as he was pulling the pile closer to him. “French is actually one of my favorite languages…” He admitted almost in a whisper.

On hearing that, my mind quickly drifted away again and, ignoring the romantic thoughts that immediately started blinking in there like neon signs outside of a bar, I wondered if Farah had told him I was French.

I spent a couple minutes thinking of a way I could figure out if Farah had told him or not. A sheepish smile grew on my face as the answer was making its way into my mind. I was either the stupidest idiot or a genius.

“Will you teach me French?” I asked.

He looked at me, with a confused look. “You want me to teach you French?”

Oh god, Farah told him, I thought, but I still tried to play along with it and my smile turned into a smirk. “Of course! I’ve wanted to learn French for so long, and I bet you would be the perfect teacher!”

He seemed to think about it for a while and I couldn’t tell if it was because Farah had told him and he was wondering why I was lying, or if it was because he really didn’t know and was actually considering it. I chose to go with the latter when he agreed to teach me and asked if I knew any French words already.

“Well I do know some basic ones like ‘bonjour’, ‘mon ami’, ‘baguette’ and ‘croissant’” I was trying so hard to fake my worst French accent, and Nate’s amused chuckle told me I was doing a good job. I tried to push my luck a bit more with my next move.

Trying to keep my voice as naive as possible, I asked: “There’s that one song I know that has some French in it but I don’t know what it means…”

“Tell me what it is and I’ll tell you!”

Trying to suppress a smile, I took a short breath. “Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?”

Nate instantly choked on the tea he was sipping, almost spilling the whole cup on himself. He slowly put down the cup, his eyes wide and his cheeks beet red as I was trying to keep my lips tight not to let out a chuckle, but that didn’t quite work as I couldn’t help but smile at his expression.

The vampire cleared his throat “Well, it simply means that hmm…” He stopped for a bit, not sure where to look. Then his embarrassed gaze landed on me, and he managed to turn an even brighter shade of red. That’s when I bursted out laughing.

“Oh honey…” I let out in between giggles. “I know what it means already, I’m just messing with you!”

“You knew!? You knew and you didn’t tell me?!” He pointed an accusing finger in my direction which made me giggle even more. “You just sat there and basked in my embarrassment! You’re evil!"

My smile fell a bit as I saw a pout forming on his lips. “I know another word in French…” my voice trailed off as I tried to think of a way to comfort him. Once again faking my worst accent, I said: “Tu es très beau.”

His long lashes flickered quickly as he processed what I had just said. "Wh-what did you just say?” he stuttered.

I reached out to gently cup his cheek in my hand. “Oh Natey, French really does put you in one hell of a state…” I stated jokingly, but I had to admit that the effect French had on him was quite impressive, if all it took me to break him was a simple compliment. I took my hand off Nate’s cheek, the tips of my fingers slowly brushing against his jaw as I did.

But before I could fully pull away, Nate grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers together. “You’re very pretty too.”

My heart skipped a beat at his words, his voice sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. The way his eyes slowly glided over my face before finally setting onto mine. My breath hitched and immediately I was sucked into his deep gaze. It felt like I was drowning in the endless pool of brown that were his eyes, the warmth in them strangely making me feel at ease, like I had finally found my long lost home.

I slowly leaned closer and his gaze now rested on my lips. Giving him a small smile I brushed our noses together and leaned my forehead onto his. I heard him sigh in relief, almost as if me being away was physically painful for him. We stayed like that for a while, basking into each other’s presence and enjoying the quiet bubble we wrapped ourselves in.

___

A few hours later, after a heavy dinner that Nate had prepared for us, we were laying in the peaceful quiet of his room. The silence rarely broken by the other vampires living at the warehouse. I was laying in Nate’s arms, his usual dazzling smile plastered on his face as he was stroking my hair.

“Why do you love French so much?” The words came out of my mouth before I could stop them. “I mean, it’s a rather difficult language to learn.”

“I know, but it’s still a beautiful language. I could talk for hours about how harmonious French sounds, but I’ll spare you that discussion.” He rolled over a little to face me. “It’s one of the first languages I’ve learned, and ever since, it has always had that resonance in me that most languages don’t have. It may sound a little silly, but I feel like it carries way more feelings than any other language I speak, and I’m not gonna lie…” A smirk had replaced his warm smile. He leaned closer, his breath tingling on my neck, to eventually whisper: “French is sexy.”

I almost choked on hearing that, rolling on my back and faking a cough to hide my mortified expression, but judging by the grin that Nate was giving me, my reaction was far from unnoticed. I couldn’t have possibly decipher if he was serious or just teasing me.

To spare myself further embarrassment, I quickly changed the subject and Nate was nothing less than eager to comply. Looked like he decided to have mercy on my poor soul. We talked until a word couldn’t come out of my mouth due to my tiredness and I fell asleep to the rhythm of Nate’s beating heart.

___

Nate was on his knees, crying for help as a blurred figure struck another blow. He barely had strength to lift his arms to protect his face. The chill of the rain was burning my face and seeping through my clothes as I tried to run towards him, but my legs gave in and I fell on my knees.

“Please stop! Stop hurting him!” I tried to yell but only a deformed wail came out of mouth. It was as if I was trapped in my own body. Unable to move. Unable to save him. My throat clenched as I tried to suppress a sob, but that didn’t keep the tears from rolling down my cheeks.

Nate took another punch, but this one seemed to be the last his bloody figure could take and I watched helpless as he collapsed on the floor. The aggressor was on him before he could even try to get up.

Now that the other vampire had slowed down, I could distinguish his features a bit more and a shiver ran down my spine as I managed to recognize Murphy.

I tried to get to Nate once again as he took a syringe out of his coat.

“Leave him alone!” Although desperate the words managed to come out of my mouth properly this time, but it barely got me a glance from Murphy whose sole focus was on Nate.

“It’s me you want! Take me! I’ll do whatever you want!” I pleaded. “But let him go… You don’t need him!”

This time it seemed like I had managed to catch the vampire’s attention. “You’re right detective… I don’t need him.” He said as he plunged the needle in Nate’s neck.

___

“Agh!” I woke with a start and immediately rolled over to search for Nate, but I was only met with cold sheets on the other side of the bed.

Panic seizing me, I fought to get out of the tangled sheets. “Nate?” I called in a whisper, afraid something would come out of the dark to attack me. I flinched with a shriek as the plushed rabbit from the Carnival fell at my feet, a folded piece of paper next to it.

Crouching on my knees, I grabbed both of the items. Immediately calming down as I recognized Nate’s fancy handwriting spread on the paper. “Went on a mission, will be back soon”, I read out loud. Clutching the little rabbit in my arms, I was surprised to notice that it smelled like Nate and without noticing it, I held it a bit tighter against my chest. A smile grew on my face as I read what was written inside the note.

“Nineteen Eighty-Four, page 124”. The vampire had drawn a little heart next to that sentence and I knew the exact line he was referring to.

“I love you too” I whispered. The plushed rabbit being the only witness of that sudden confession.

Our discussion from earlier this afternoon came back to my mind and the idea of confessing my love to him resurfaced.

I settled behind Nate’s mahogany desk, set the note and rabbit before me and grabbed some paper to finally put down in words how I felt towards the vampire.

___

After a couple of hours, the sun was slowly rising on the horizon, peaking weakly through the tree crown. I stretched as I contemplated my finished love declaration.

I folded the sheet of paper and slid it along with Nate’s note in the pocket of my coat. “Time to go back to sleep” I mumbled to myself as I grabbed the plushy.

___

It felt like a couple of minutes had passed when I was woken up again by my phone buzzing manically on the bedside table.

Thinking it was a phone call, I brought the phone to my ear, my eyes still half closed. “Hello?” The only answer I got was a buzz. Bringing the phone back in front of my face, blinking painfully at the bright light, I managed to decipher the last text Farah had sent me, lost in a sea of question marks and my name in caps.

“Didn’t you say you were French?”

“I am”

“Then why did Nate say he taught you French yesterday?”

Fear gripped me as I threw off the bed sheets and jolted up out of bed. Furiously typing, I ran out of the room, barely managing to stop myself from bumping into Adam.

“Detective? Is there something wrong?” He asked, actual worry in his voice.

“Not yet!” I answered already running away. Halfway through the corridor I came to a stop and turned around. Adam was still standing in front of Nate’s door, looking at me with a confused look on his face. “Adam?”

The leader slightly shook his head. “Yes?”

“Do you happen to know where Nate and Farah are?”

“The kitchen I think. Nate said he would cook breakfast for you, before you woke up.” He threw me a grin. “I guess his plan kind of failed.”

“Thanks Adam!” I answered, running off. I waved at him when I turned at the corner.

When I finally made it to the kitchen, I stopped before the door, taking a moment to catch my breath. I ran my hand over my hair and lifted my phone to check myself in the reflection on my screen. I plastered a calm smile of my face before pushing open the door to the kitchen.

Farah was sprawled over a chair, as was her habit, and Nate was cooking, his back turned to me. He hadn’t noticed my entrance yet. Glaring at Farah, I mouthed the words: “Did you tell him?” to which she answered with a shake of her head. I let out a sigh of relief and that’s when Nate turned around.

His smile immediately grew. I walked to him and casually grabbed a cup in the cupboard above his shoulder, reducing the space between us to almost nothing.

“Comment va l’homme le plus sexy du monde?” I asked, turning away to hide the grin on my face as he dropped the spoon he was holding. I didn’t give him time to reply and kissed his cheek.

[ How’s the sexiest man in the world doing? ]

Grabbing the kettle and pouring water in my cup as if nothing happened, I tried to remember what I had written down during the night. “Tu sais, il y a ce garçon, tu devrais le voir, il ressemble à un dieu Grec, qui a ce sourire magnifique et à qui je pense énormément ces derniers temps. D’ailleurs, ça fait plusieurs jours que j’essaie de trouver comment lui avouer ce que je ressens.”

[ You know, there is that guy, you should see him he looks like a Greek God, who has that dazzling smile and whom I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. As a matter of fact, I’ve been trying to find a way to tell him how I feel for a few days now. ]

I leaned against the counter now facing Farah. The young vampire was sitting on the edge of her seat, almost gripping the table so hard that I was afraid she might break it from excitement. She was staring at me with her mouth wide open. Morgan was also now sitting beside her, caring enough to have forgotten to lit up her cigarette and Adam was entering the room.

I returned my attention to Nate. “Et hier, comme par miracle, il m’annonce qu’il parle français. Alors depuis j’ai bien réfléchi à ce que je pourrais bien lui dire; j’y ai même passé toute la nuit. Maintenant, je pense avoir trouvé.”

[ And yesterday, miraculously, he announces that he speaks French. So, ever since, I’ve thought a lot about what I could possibly say to him; I’ve even thought about it all night. Now, I think I’ve finally found the answer. ]

I could hear Farah gasp and say something along the lines of “I love foreign movies, Morgan please grab the popcorn and Adam do the subtitles.” Glancing at them, I could see Adam rolling his eyes, but he still, reluctantly sat next to Farah, still trying to understand what was happening.

Nate was now a confused mess, his usual smile had been replaced by tomato red cheeks and the food in his pan was starting to burn. I turned off the gas and sat on the counter, pulling Nate in front of me to be face to face with him.

“Alors voilà, je pensais lui dire à quel point je le trouve mignon, et qu’à chaque fois qu’il sourit, mon coeur se met à battre la chamade; mais ça, je pense qu’il le sait déjà.” I smiled to the vampire.

[ So here goes, I was thinking of telling him how cute I think he is, and that every time he smiles, my heart starts to pound wildly; but I think he already knows that. ]

In the corner of my eye, I could see Adam, finally understanding what was happening, standing up and grabbing both Morgan and Farah by their collar and dragging them out of the kitchen. Adam had the biggest smile I’d ever seen him with plastered on his face as he closed the door.

I knew from the noise outside that the stern vampire was probably guarding the door as Farah was trying to listen through it.

Putting my hands on the waist of a still speechless Nate. I softened my voice, making my confession more intimate as the words flowed out of my mouth. “Je voulais aussi lui dire que depuis que j’étais enfant, j’avais toujours rêvé d’apprendre à danser la valse avec mon âme soeur et que s’il voulait bien, on pourrait peut-être apprendre à la danser tout les deux. Que j’aimerais beaucoup passer mes après-midi avec lui dans son endroit préféré, la bibliothèque à l’étage du dessous, et qu’on pourrait lire nos bouquins préférés ensemble.

[ I also wanted to tell him that ever since I was a kid, I had always dreamt of learning how to waltz with my soulmate and that if he was willing to, maybe we could learn how to waltz together. That I’d very much like to spend all my afternoons with him in his favorite place, the library downstairs, and that we could read our favorite books together. ]

My hand reached up to cup Nate’s cheek. Still a flustered mess, his confusion had gone away and a wide smile started to grow on his soft face. He leaned in the touch.

“Et je voulais aussi qu’il sache que s’il le fallait, pour gagner son coeur, je lui dédierai tous mes écrits. Que chacun des mots que j’écrirai, à partir d’aujourd’hui et jusqu’à la fin de ma vie, seraient pour lui, et lui seul. Maintenant, je sais très bien qu’il pourrait trouver mieux que moi, mais que s’il le voulait on pourrait se lancer. Parce que moi je pense que ça peut donner quelque chose de beau, parce qu’après tout…” I leaned closer, to whisper in his ear. “Je l’aime…” My voice trailed off as Nate’s hands to came to rest on my waist and that his head came to rest in the crook of my neck. I could feel his tears crashing on my skin.

[ And I also wanted him to know that if it was necessary, to win his heart, I’d dedicate all of my writings to him. That every single word I would write, from today until the day I die, would be dedicated to him, and him only. Now, I know fairly well that he could find someone better than me, but that if he was willing to we could try. Because I think it could end up being something beautiful, because after all… I love him. ]

“And what’s the name of this guy?” he eventually whispered.

“His name is Nathaniel Sewell, but he prefers Nate.”

After a few moments that actually felt like an eternity, Nate lifted me off the counter to pull me in a tight embrace, my arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. “Did you fake not knowing French?”

I nodded. “I’m French silly…”

“You are?!” He almost dropped me. “Sorry…” he said as he let me down on the counter again.

“I am. I was surprised to discover Farah hadn’t told you as soon as I told her to be honest.”

“Farah knew?”

“Yes, it came up when she visited me at the station last time. Sorry I didn’t tell you.” I gave him a sheepish smile “And I’m sorry I lied to you yesterday, but when I realized you had no idea, I thought it would perhaps be a good idea to confess like that…” I glance around the kitchen and let out a chuckle. “Well that’s not exactly how I had planned it, but I panicked when Farah texted me this morning, I was hoping it would be more romantic… Gosh I’m rambling…”

“I don’t mind…” he said as he leaned closer. Our lips were a couple centimeters apart, but he didn’t move closer, as if he was waiting for the permission to kiss me. I leaned forward and captured his lips and it seemed that right in this moment, time itself stopped. The kiss was everything I have hoped it would be. It set my whole being on fire, making my body tingle all over with happiness. His lips were the sweetest thing I had ever tasted in this world, making me addicted and never wanting to let go of him.

I pulled him closer by his belt loops, wanting, needing him to be closer. The kiss was so soft it made me feel like I was floating to the sky to gently lay on those fluffy clouds. It made me feel whole and happy. Nate made me happy.

And I hoped I made him happy too.

#twc nate #nate sewell #nate x detective #twc fanfic #the wayhaven chronicles #twc detective #ali's writing #y'all can ignore that i'm just reposting stuff from my other account

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tintinwrites · 5 years

Text

you can see me? | Poe Dameron x Ghost!Reader

A/N: This is what happens when I take a one-word prompt and write what comes to mind lol

Rating: T

Warning: Reader is a ghost. Reader’s fiance was bad.

Word count: 1,508, apparently!!

Prompt: Ghost from day six of @blackirisposts October Challenge

Summary: You’ve seen many people move in and out of your house. Poe is the one who sees you too.

GIF credit: poesddameron

-------------------------------

Eight different families had lived in your home since you died.

Your fiance lived there with a new wife and eventually a set of little twins that prompted the small family to move somewhere larger in the autumn of 1899.

A handsome couple soon moved in and welcomed a curly-headed girl two years later, and they stayed until that girl became a rebellious young woman early into the 1920's.

An older man and woman moved in to downsize after their last child became married, grandchildren visiting and growing through the years until their grandparents died; the man in 1953 and the woman in 1954.

Their youngest child moved in with her husband and two teenage children and left a couple years after they moved out, in 1962.

Newlyweds came and promptly had one child every year, filling the house to the brim until they realized they needed more space in 1968.

You were alone for two years until a group of young girlfriends decided to share the house while seeking their higher education, then went their separate ways for careers or marriage upon graduating in 1974.

Another four years alone, another pair of newlyweds who had a little boy in 1982 and a little girl in 1990; they were with you longer than anyone, but they left you like everyone else in the year of 2015.

Every family was easy to get attached to and you were sad to see them go, but you were always excited to discover who you would be with next.

You found yourself attached immediately to the man who started filling the house with boxes in 2019.

His name was Poe Dameron according to some documents you'd seen and he was your eighth family. He was very handsome and he had a laugh that you enjoyed almost as much as the laughter of the many children who had lived there over the years.

He was also kind, sure to hand out candy to neighborhood children on Halloween even though most of his boxes had yet to be unpacked.

You were watching him compliment a boy's superhero costume and generously give him a handful of candy, smiling dreamily as he shut the door and turned around.

He stared at you. "Can I ask what the hell you're doing in my house?"

You paused, slowly glancing over your shoulder and then back at him.

There was no one else for him to be talking to, but there was also no way that he knew you were there.

No one had ever known you were there. No one could see you and even when you would expend your energy to knock over a dish, they would explain it away with a tilted shelf or a breeze through a window.

"Your costume is cool, but I'm gonna have to ask you not to come into my house unannounced." The costume he was referring to was the dress that had been more appropriate for your time than his.

"You can see me?" Your tone was full of wonder and hope.

"Of course I can see you. Why don't you head out of here and we can forget all about it?"

"Oh, no, I can't. You see, I'm dead."

He had his hand on the door after opening it again, staring at you for a moment and then laughing slightly. "That's funny. I really don't want to hurt you or have to call the cops, please get out now."

You tilted your head. "But I am dead. This is my home."

"I'm sorry about this." He strode to you and moved to take hold of your arm, eyes widening as he stumbled forward and his hand went right through you.

"About what?"

Perhaps he was apologizing for the way he suddenly began trying to poke you, batting his hand through your chest experimentally. But you couldn't really feel it and he was clearly trying to prove that he hadn't imagined your incorporeal form, therefore you were more curious than offended.

He quickly stepped back, muttering to himself about something being impossible and how 'this isn't the kind of crazy you are when you have a big ego'. He covered his face with his hands for a long moment, then slowly looked at you again.

"I'm not saying I'm a hard ass who refuses to believe in ghosts and all that, but I always figured they would be invisible or something. You know, the kind of thing that makes stuff fall off of tables and that's it."

"No one has ever been able to see me...I've tried to communicate by dropping things, but it takes a lot of my energy and people consider all the other reasons why things suddenly fall."

"Okay. Cool. This is probably some weird dream or I've gone crazy for some reason."

"I promise that I am very real. I haven't talked to anyone in...over a hundred years."

There must have been something to the lilt of your voice, sounding like you could start crying and like you could shout in pure joy, that had him looking at you sympathetically. "You have a name?"

Being a spirit should have meant that you had no emotion, but you had cried many times since you died and you were tearing up right then. "Y/N Y/L/N. I've been all by myself since 1894."

"Hot damn. I can't go more than a day without talking to somebody."

"I know. You've called someone on your cell phone every day since you moved in."

"You died in 1894 and you know what a cell phone is?"

"I have been here for one hundred and twenty-five years already and the only thing I can do is watch. I have seen the introduction of the radio, the television, home phones, and computers. I have watched them all fade away and be replaced with better versions, such as flat screen TVs and computer-like phones that can fit in your pocket. I have watched television shows since the 50's and listened to the most popular music, from jazz to pop."

"You've pretty much seen everything then." If this was all in his head, he was surprised at how detailed it was.

"All I had for my entertainment were the moments those who lived here would watch television or leave a book open, and then I would read the pages over and over again until I grew bored of them. I spent every hour of every day pacing and counting cracks in the walls until you moved in."

"That sounds like hell."

"It is. I enjoy having people around here even though I couldn't talk to them...I loved watching all their children. Such innocence. Such potential."

Your eyes were sad and Poe was too, certain that there was no way even his subconscious could make up something like this.

He sat on a large box that he knew was full of stuff that could hold his weight. "Do you mind if I ask how you...how did you die?"

You looked down and he followed your line of vision to see a wound right above your chest that he might have thought had been delivered to you minutes ago if he hadn't known better.

His eyes met yours.

"My fiance was always an unkind man...I suppose I angered him too much."

"You didn't." He looked at you with meaning; it had been a long time since anyone looked at you on purpose, and you weren't sure you'd been eyed that kindly even when you were alive.

There was a knock on the door and he jumped to his feet to hand out candy to little children that seemed to be dressed up as characters from a show you didn't recognize.

He stayed up half the night to ask you questions and answer some that you had as well, him enraptured by all the things you had learned in over a hundred years and you by all he had learned in a mere thirty-four years of life.

Poe slept for a couple hours and woke early to get ready for work, momentarily surprised when you came into the bathroom while he was shaving.

You really weren't something he dreamed; you watched him very closely and then moved your hand under the stream of water in the sink.

It almost made him sad to see it go through your hand.

How many times had he taken the basic ability to touch almost whatever he wanted for granted?

You gave him privacy when he had to put on his clothes, staring out a window and walking into the living room as you heard the door shut and his key turn the lock. Yet you could still hear voices.

Looking around, you discovered that he left the television on the home and garden channel. You then noticed that there were a bunch of books on the floor, near the now half-empty box he'd been sitting on last night.

Every single one of them was open to the first page.

#poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #bipspoopy19 #star wars imagine

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midnightartemis · 4 years

Text

~Chapter 37 Up Now~

Read Me Here

The warm glow of morning light filters in through the thin yellow curtains pulled across the window. Ben sits at the foot of my bed, one hand filled with grapes and eyes darkened from lack of sleep. I watch him quietly as I blow away the steam from the tea he’s brought me. It’s almost like being back in the cabin again.

My whole body aches and every movement feels like a marathon, but my fever’s broken for now and there's a promise of food if I can keep my tea down.

“I texted Poe.”

I stop raising the cup halfway to my lips and set it gently on my lap. “You did?”

“He’s coming by with Finn and Rose later.” Ben pops a grape in his mouth and chews it methodically. “They were there last night when we got back.”

I frown, trying to draw the hazy memories of my feverish mind out. I could vaguely remember Leia waking me. And Ben beside me. Always beside me. And lots of other people. And Maz- Maz!

“Does she hate me? Oh my gods, is she pressing charges? Is Holdo coming today to get me?”

“What? What- No. Rey.” Ben’s hand wraps gently around my wrist, steadying the sploshing drink I hold in my lap. “I think she’s just happy you’re safe. She said- Last night- that you were staying with her for as long as you wanted to.”

I relax a little, though my still thoughts race. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to let go of this little life I had managed to carve out in Republic. Technically, you’re an adult, Kira Palpatine. “Do they know? About Palpatine?”

“Yeah, they all talked. Chewie, Mom, Dad, Maz, even Uncle Luke stopped by.” Ben’s face soured at the mention of his uncle. He pulled away, fiddling the grapes between his fingers. “Uncle Chewie is going to stick around. Keep an eye on you. And Mom was talking about hiring more security at the school.”

“They… They don’t have to do that. I’m not- Why would they-” My mind struggled to comprehend the idea. That they would care enough to want to protect me.

“We’re not going to let anything happen to you. You’re worth protecting, Rey.” Ben said it with such conviction that I couldn’t fight it, even if I wanted to. Part of me still wanted to.

“Did you tell them about the- about the books?” My voice drops to a whisper and I glance out the door, unsure of who could be outside listening.

“No. Not until we can do a little more research. They’re in the floorboards.” Ben stares hard at the grapes and squishes one between his fingers. The juices splatter everywhere. He pops the pieces in his mouth and swallows. “They know more than they’re ever going to tell us. I heard them talking when I wasn’t in the room.”

“About what?”

“My grandfather. And Palpatine- not your father- you grandfather. It’s-” Ben rubbed his face and shook his head. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“So, I’m guessing we’re not going to get answers from anyone.”

Ben shakes his head again, now gone silent. I let the subject fall away. He’d tell me when he was ready. “I don’t even know what day it is.”

“December 1st.”

I groan and fall back in bed. “I have so much school work.”

“Being hunted down by an ultra-rich drug lord isn’t conducive to getting schoolwork done. I’m sure Leia will understand.”

I’m not sure if he’s teasing me, so I look up at him. Sure enough, there’s a sarcastic all-too-proud smile on his lips. I scowl and wack Ben with my pillow as he chuckles. He holds on to the pillow looking distracted as I sit up slowly and press my back to the headboard. His mind was on something far away, but I couldn’t figure out what. It was times like this I wish I was a mind reader. “I don’t think I had any nightmares last night. How long was I out?”

“It’s been almost fourteen hours. I think the meds helped. And I didn’t leave. Slept on the couch.” He runs his fingers through his long black hair, now clean and soft looking.

I raise my fingers to feel it for myself, but stop, my hand hovering between us. “Are we- Is this?”

In answer, Ben leans his head into my hand and I run my fingers through his hair. After a moment, he catches my wrist and gently kisses the palm. “I will never leave as long as you want me at your side.”

I sigh a little, relieved that nothing had changed between us after leaving the cabin. “You’ll even befriend Poe?”

“If he’ll let me.” Ben lets our hands fall to the bed, absentmindedly stroking my thumb with his own.

“What is it?”

“I want to be better for you.”

“Ben-”

“No, please, Rey. I-I want to have a life with you. I want to bring you home to my parents and take you to the Festival of Lights and prom and I’ve never wanted that before. With anyone. A life. A future. Beyond here.”

A future. A life. It was hard to imagine really. Hard to think about even a few days from now. For so long I had been fighting to survive, dreaming about the next day or running away from it. But now it was here. Prom, college, a job, a place of my own if I was lucky. If I was even luckier, Ben would be at my side.

And my father behind me.

Was he already here watching my every move? Would he come steal me away in the middle of the night? Would I spend the rest of my life running and looking over my shoulder never letting my guard down? Would everyone I loved be no more than a weakness to exploit to get to me?

What if he wasn��t hunting me at all? Or what if his intentions were pure? What if he was just a father longing to be reunited with his long lost daughter?

“I should just go to him.” I whisper through my cacophony of thoughts. “I’m putting everyone in danger.”

“No. No, you’re not going anywhere.” Ben’s hand tightens around my own as if he thinks he could keep me there.

“If what Hux and Chewie said is true, he’s never going to stop hunting me. He won’t care who he hurts in the process as long as he gets me. He has all the money and the resources to make it happen-”

“We can protect you- We’re all going to-”

“You said the Republic police were corrupted by Snoke? Imagine what will happen when Palpatine gets his hands on them. I’ll never be safe, Ben. I’ll never be able to run far enough to escape his-

“Why would you just give yourself up like that? You can’t do that. You don’t know what he’ll-”

“Grasp. I can’t put you in danger like that. You’re all more important to me. I’m just a foster kid from Jakku. I’m nothing. I’m no one-”

“Not to me!” Ben’s chest heaves. The might of his yell silencing me and sending my heart racing. His eyes shimmer with tears on the edge of falling. He stands at the foot of the bed, forcing himself to stand a part from me. I’ve curled up on myself, holding my hot cup of tea like a shield between us.

The door opens and Maz takes a step into the room. “Ben, go home. Your mother wants to speak with you.”

“I-”

“Now, Mr. Solo. Rey needs rest and a bath. You can come back over when Mr. Dameron gets here if Rey wants you to.”

Ben glances at me and I lower my eyes, not daring to look at them and see the pain they hold. He takes a few steps, stopping at the door. He doesn’t say anything, maybe he doesn’t know what to say. After a moment, he leaves.

“There’s a hot bath ready for you. Then if you’re up for it Amilyn is downstairs. And some breakfast.”

“Is she here to take me away?” That’s how it always went. Believing anything different was dangerous. I had caused too much trouble and broken too many rules. I had stolen Maz’s car and abandoned it on the other side of town. Just that would be enough to get me sent to Juvie. Well. Sent back to Juvie.

Maz sits down at the end of the bed and says nothing until I look up at her. She is wrapped in her normal robe. Though her eyes are ringed with dark circles, there’s a lightness to her face- relief, I think. “She’s not here to take you away- Just to check up on you. Take a bath and I’ll have some meds for you downstairs.”

I nod slowly and crawl out of bed as Maz leaves. Even hearing her say it, I don’t believe it. Not yet. The claw foot tub is filled high with steaming hot water and lavender scented bubbles and I think it’s the best bath I’ve ever seen. My muscles groan in relief as I slide in. I soak until the water turns lukewarm, then scrub the days worth of sweat and grime and sickness from my skin and hair.

When I rise from the half-gone bubbles and emerge dripping from the bath, I no longer feel like the girl I was just a week ago. Too much had passed. Too much had changed. I was exhausted and running on nothing but stress.

I shouldn’t have yelled at him like that.

I sigh and pat myself dry. I put on pajama pants and one of Ben’s baggy t-shirts and make my way downstairs to the living room. A warm fire crackles in the fireplace. On the couch there is a rather large, softly snoring, Chewie-shaped lump. I find Maz and my social worker in the dining room, each sipping tea. They stop chatting as I walk in and take my place in front of a plate of toast and eggs.

“It’s good to see you, Rey.” Amilyn smiles and I glance at Maz, wondering how much she knows. Amilyn answers my unasked question instead. “Maz filled me in. And I agree. The safest thing for you to do is to stay here with her. But, you can leave if you wish to.”

The weight of her telling me that I could stay doesn’t fall off my shoulders like I thought it would. Instead, the weight grows heavier with the fact that everyone around me could be in danger if I stay. I take a small bite of food. “Where would I go if I left?”

“Back to the group home. It’s the safest place the system can offer for you. I could look into other options like moving you to another state or across the country, but that’s unlikely since you only have a short time until you turn 18. Of course, you could file for emancipation due to special circumstances, but you’d be completely on your own then.” Amilyn explains my options as she should in her capacity as my case worker, but there’s a different edge to her tone. Pleading almost. “Like I said. It’s safest for you to stay here. Maz will keep you safe. And she’s more than willing to give you all the protections she can.”

I frown and set down my toast. “What do you mean?”

Amilyn glances at Maz who gives a little nod. She turns back to me with a little smile. “Maz would like to adopt you.”

“She- She’d- What?”

#reylo #ben solo x rey #ben solo deserved better #reylo fanfic #reylo fanfiction

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winchesterandpie · 4 years

Text

The Best Present (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 927

Warnings: Slight angst at the beginning, but fluffy in the end

A/N: Woohoo! Part 3 of the December Drabbles!! Ok, so we’re just going to pretend that Christmas exists in the Star Wars universe for the next few minutes, sound good? Italics indicate a memory. Gifs are not mine. Love you guys, and hope you enjoy!!

Find the December Drabbles masterpost HERE

It’d been a long two weeks. Poe had been sent off with the Black Squadron on some long mission that was expected to take at least another week. I felt his absence keenly, especially because tomorrow was Christmas, and we had been planning to celebrate together.

As it was, I was currently sitting in the back of the cantina with my food. I’d finished my food, but stayed sitting with my mug of hot chocolate as I watched the sunset through the window. General Organa had given me the day off from my job as a communications officer. She always had a sense for when something wasn’t quite right - probably because she had adopted pretty much everyone on the base.

As I stared out the window, the memory of the day Poe left on the mission floated through my mind.

“We’ll just have to have our own Christmas when you get back,” I reassured Poe.

“But it won’t be the same!” He was too good at puppy dog eyes. Either that or I was too susceptible to them. Or a combination of the two.

“It’ll still be fun.” I felt like I had to be the source of optimism, though I certainly didn’t feel it. Poe’s mouth quirked up in a small smile, recognizing the effort.

“I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” The wall I was trying so hard to hide behind fell, my voice cracking.

“Aww, sweetheart, come here.” His arms opened to me, pulling me gently against him. “You’re right, it’ll be alright. We’ll make it a good Christmas.” Poe swayed slowly back and forth as I fought to keep from crying.

“Just promise you’ll come home safe?” I asked, muffled by his jumpsuit.

“I’ll always come back to you.” He kissed the crown of my head as I sucked in a shuddering breath, inhaling the smell of him. “Always.”

Given his inclination to jump in his X-wing and go blow something up without thinking it through, perhaps I should be more skeptical of that particular promise. I supposed that it had been a promise I wanted to believe - and in all honesty, I did believe that he would do his best to fulfill it. And at that moment, I needed to believe it would be ok.

Now, sitting alone in the cantina and staring out the window, I just felt empty. It was the night before Christmas - I was supposed to be out in the snow, making snowmen with Poe and throwing snowballs at him when he wasn’t looking. I wanted to be enjoying festive treats with him. Longingly, hopelessly, I wished that he would return early - that I wouldn’t have to spend Christmas without him.

Eventually, I realized how late it was and gathered my things to head back to our shared quarters. Once there, I changed quickly into sleeping clothes, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders like a cape. Going to bed alone, however, felt like too much just then, so I pulled out an old book to forestall it a little longer.

I clearly lost track of time, being brought back to reality only when I heard someone stumbling around in the corridor. When the door into mine and Poe’s room opened, I looked over in mild consternation. I realized that any fears I’d had were unfounded when I saw the dark, curly haired pilot standing in the doorway.

“Poe?” His name fell out of my mouth quite without thought, but my brain soon caught up. “Poe!” I launched myself up from the bed and into his arms.

He caught me in midair, laughing as he spun around before setting me down. Almost unable to believe it, I lifted my hands to touch his face for a moment, then dove to hide my face in the crook of his neck. Poe’s arms were warm and reassuring around me as he chuckled.

“You’re home!” I breathed the words out as I clung to him. “You’re safe!”

“We wrapped up early and got back here as fast as we could. Wanted to surprise you.” His voice was muffled where his face pressed against my hair. “Did it work?” Poe grinned as he pulled back just enough to look into my eyes.

I was too choked up to speak, so instead I nodded, my smile so wide that my face could barely contain it. A couple of tears slipped free, but his gentle hands were quick to wipe them away.

“I couldn’t very well leave you alone for Christmas.” The commander’s eyes softened even further as he spoke.

“You made it just in time, then,” I replied, finding my voice as his hands cradled my cheeks.

“Just how I like it. It’s a personal rule that I can’t make it to anything properly on time - I have to barely pull it off.” He succeeded in his mission to get me to laugh, though it wouldn’t have been difficult in my joy that he was home safe. “And you’ll never believe it - I found the perfect present for you during the mission, so it all worked out pretty much perfectly.”

You already got me the best present, you goof!”

“I did?”

“Duh - you’re back!”

“Right? And?” His brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m not sure what you mean, babe.”

“No, it’s -- you’re back, flyboy.” When he still looked confused, I continued. “You’re the best thing I could hope for.” The disbelief reigned on his face for a solid second before he snorted a laugh.

“Now that right there is a hell of a cheesy line.”

Forever tags:

@riddikulus-obsessions @addictionmarvel @peppermint--teas @mercedesbarnes @javapeach

Tag list is open - if you want to be added, shoot me an ask or a message!

#December Drabbles #winchesterandpie writes #Poe Dameron x reader #Poe x reader #Poe Dameron x you #Poe x you #Star wars #Christmas #reader insert #fluff

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themangoyogurt · 4 years

Text

Between 29th & Astoria: The Fire Iron Named Ren

Chapter Two

Kylo Ren begins to push you to your limits at the office. Much to his surprise, you begin to push back.

You quickly realized that although Mr. Ren had little to say to your face, he certainly made up for it in e-mails and text messages. Receiving a free company phone certainly came with strings attached as the shiny black device pinged for the tenth time in the last hour.

Kylo Ren | 10:42 AM | Coffee.

PA3281 | 10:43 AM | What would you like, Mr. Ren?

You rolled your eyes. They really did treat everyone here like faceless droids. They couldn’t even bother to input your real name into the system. Instead, you were regarded as “personal assistant 3281” - PA3281. Sighing, your phone buzzed again.

Kylo Ren | 10:45 AM | Did you not go through orientation with the idiots downstairs?

Ah, fuck! You quickly whipped out the folder Phasma had placed on your desk. Flipping through the sheets, one stuck out. Bullet point after bullet point of information regarding Kylo’s preferences. His dry cleaner, how he took his coffee and which shops he preferred, his mechanic, and other relevant facts to your job as a glorified servant. How could you have missed something so obvious?

Quickly sending a message of apology to Mr. Ren, you scrambled from your seat and shot downstairs as quickly as possible. Pulling up GPS you noticed that the nearest “acceptable” coffee shop was four blocks away. The trip should have been quick, but stumbling down the streets of New York in a panic while wearing stilettos didn’t do you much good. You might as well have been Bambi learning to walk at this point.

Thirty-five minutes later, you burst into the office with a large black Americano in tow. Smoothing down the front of your shirt with one hand, you gave the double doors a sharp rap.

A low baritone drawled, “Enter.”

Taking a sharp breath, you eased the doors open and stepped inside. Your nerves were on edge. You hadn’t actually spoken to your boss face-to-face yet. Kylo was leaning back in his seat staring into a monitor. One hand lazily moved a mouse around while the other thumbed through a leather bound notebook.

“Your coffee, sir.”

Without looking up, he gestured for you to hand him the cup. The moment it reached his hands, he turned to dump it into the trash can next to his desk.

“Sir!” You squeaked in surprise. Your hands began to play with themselves out of nervousness as a heavy air descended upon the room. Still flipping through the pages of his notebook, Kylo replied, “Do you presume that I enjoy drinking cold coffee?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you bump your head and forget the way back to work?”

“No, sir.”

“Then why did it take you so long?”

You nervously shuffled your feet back and forth as you felt Kylo’s harsh gaze take you in for the first time. Shit. You were creating scuff marks on his floor. Your voice was timid as it quietly responded, “Sir, the nearest coffeeshop was four blocks away. I...I had to walk, and in my current uniform...”

His eyes slowly roved up and down your body and your hands clenched as your heard the man scoff, “Your excuses do not interest me.”

Kylo’s eyes maintained a heavy stare for a moment longer before he turned to his computer once again. The sound of clicking filled the awkward silence, and you took that as your cue to leave. Turning your back to the man, you didn’t notice as he looked up once again to gaze in your direction.

His eyes remained unwavering even as your body slipped through the crack of his front door.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was well past dinner now, and the streets of Astoria were barren save for one or two poor souls hurrying off the N train at this hour. Despite the exhaustion in your bones, it was this nighttime scene that made you fall in love with New York City. The streets were wet with a sudden summer downpour and they were reflecting the beautiful city lights. Even the sound of a lone cab whizzing by was therapeutic to your ears.

Although the real reason you chose to live in Queens was the simple fact that you couldn’t afford anywhere else, you still fell in love with the borough. The apartments weren’t as high, and it still had a neighborhood feel to it. You even found a great place near the East River, which afforded a stunning view of the New York City skyline.

Kicking down the sidewalk, you finally arrived at your apartment. It was once a three story house, but the owners had converted each floor to an apartment after their boys moved out. The first floor was yours, while your kindly landlord and his wife took the second. The third belonged to two fun, but rowdy, roommates you had recently become friends with. Seeing “P. Dameron and F. Storm” in scratchy script by the buzzer always put a smile on your face.

Your hand loving ran over your own little piece of paper. Your first initial and last name settled prettily next to your roommate’s - “R. Tico”. It wasn’t much, but it was yours. And oh if that wasn’t enough to fill your heart with joy. Quietly unlocking the front door, you stepped into a dimly lit hallway. The corridor ended with a door in the front, and opened up into a staircase to the left.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and your senses were assaulted with the smell of rosemary and thyme mingled with oil and meat.

“Rose, I’m home!”

Shuffling sounded from the kitchen before laughter and groans erupted from the dining area. Peeking around the corner, you saw your roommate and the two upstairs neighbors sitting around a small table. Rose shot up and shimmied her shoulders towards your direction as she chanted, “I win! I win! I win!”

You looped an arm around around the girl’s shoulders and laughed, “What did you win?”

Finn, the taller man, stood and chortled, “We were betting how late your boss would make you stay tonight. Rose bet nine. I was aiming for ten, while Poe was being annoying and bet on nine forty-five.”

Sighing, you pulled the elastic out of your ponytail before running a hand through the soft locks. You moaned, “Well I’m glad that my nightmare is your entertainment.” Pausing for a second, you pushed a finger into Rose’s chest and muttered, “You better split that prize with me!”

She laughed and tugged you into the kitchen as Poe pulled a chair out for you. She gave you a quick hug and teased, “Don’t be mad. I saved you dinner! Plus, the boys are going to treat us to drinks at Sweet Afton, right?”

Rose gave the men a pointed look and they quickly nodded in return. Life in New York was hard, but this ragtag group of individuals was definitely easing the harshness of the city.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Days began to bleed together as the workplace torment grew. You swore that Mr. Ren would randomly throw your coffees away periodically just to keep you on your toes. If it wasn’t the coffee, then he was tossing books against the wall or complaining about how slow you were. Once, he even printed out an e-mail and used red marker to edit the errors before slapping it on your desk.

Of course the bastard would wait until your lunch break to do so. He wanted to make sure that everyone who passed by would see.

Every time the man lashed out, you swore you saw a glint in his eyes. As if he were testing you. Playing with his food. The man loved watching you squirm, and you swore it was some sort of sick game for the egotistical deviant. Wasn’t he supposed to be running an empire? Not fucking around with his assistant.

As each workday passed, he continued to move the line of what was acceptable further and further away. Always testing your limits, and always smirking when you’d relent. Too afraid of losing your job. Too scared of standing up to the dark and foreboding man. Over the course of two months you had already missed Rose’s birthday, the opening night of Finn’s off Broadway play, and countless dinners and drinks. Enough was enough.

It was four in the morning. Four in the fucking morning. Just the thought of chasing down a night bus in your stilettos made you want to run a heel through the back of Mr. Ren’s head. Sure, if you had actual work to do at least you could somehow justify your presence in the office. But every time you’d poke your head into his office and offer coffee or food, he’d snarl in your direction and demand silence. And when you asked if you could be dismissed (since your peace offerings of beverages and other consumable products were rudely rejected), he all but basically lost it.

You were sure that he’d probably have a more productive evening if he hadn’t spent thirty minutes lecturing you on responsibility and “pulling your weight”. Your head fell forward and hit the glass desk underneath as your internally moaned. Apparently standards were low here at First Order, since sitting around at your desk playing solitaire counted as “pulling your weight”. The bottom righthand corner of your computer flickered as 4:38 changed to 4:39.

Fuck. This. Shit.

You were done. You were done with Mr. Ren and the First Order. The money wasn’t worth the abuse of power. You’d rather go back to waiting tables at the TGI Friday’s in Times Square than put up with Mr. Ren. You weren’t a secretary. You were a fucking babysitter. You were going home, and even scary ol’ Mr. Ren wouldn’t have anything to say about it. Quickly gathering up your personal belongings, you stood and stretched before marching towards his sleek black double doors with determination.

Pushing it open, you stepped into the darkened room with as much courage as possible. The man was sitting with his back to you as he stared out the window at the skyline. The sun was just barely dancing over the cityscape, and for a second it seemed as if Mr. Ren was sleeping.

“Have you come back to annoy me with another useless suggestion?”

“No, Mr. Ren.”

“Then I suggest you return to your desk where you belong.”

“No, Mr. Ren.”

He suddenly swiveled around with a force strong enough to create whiplash. His eyes darkened as he stood to consider you. Your back was straightened as you tightly clutched onto the handles of your bag.

“Excuse me?”

You took a slow breath and prayed for your voice to remain steady even if your hands were shaking. Breathing out, you plainly stated, “With all due respect, I do not ‘belong’ at my desk, Mr. Ren. While I am happy to assist you to my fullest capabilities during working hours, I must draw a line at four in the morning. You do not own me, Mr. Ren. If you’re looking for someone to control and mistreat, then unfortunately I am not the woman for you. I am taking my leave now, and I will return tomorrow morning at eight in the morning sharp. Goodnight, Mr. Ren.”

He remained motionless as you squarely maintained eye contact. With no rebuttal in sight, you gave him one last nod before turning on your heel and marching right out of the room. Meanwhile, a lopsided smile tugged at Kylo’s lips as excitement danced in his chest. He knew there was fire in there somewhere. And it delighted the man to no end knowing that he was the source of pulling that foreign emotion out of your timid nature.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren #kylo ren x you #reader insert #B29&A

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