#six sentence friday

[simplegenius042]

Late WIP Wednesday & Six Sentence Paragraph Friday

Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton @cassietrn @cloudofbutterflies92 @direwombat @voidika @nightbloodbix @aceghosts and @adelaidedrubman

Tagging @strangefable @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @minilev @g0dspeeed @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @corvosattano @carlosoliveiraa @titiagls @derelictheretic @afarcryfrommymain @megraen @shallow-gravy @onehornedbeast @softtidesworld @snake-in-the-garden @wrathfulrook @shellibisshe @chazz-anova @purplehairsecretlair @florbelles @inafieldofdaisies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @skoll-sun-eater @starsandskies @vampireninjabunnies-blog @yokobai and @thewanderer-000 + anyone else who wants to join in. Here's the taglist.

Three WIPs for Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore and six sentences paragraphs for a little Classroom Of The Elite AU fic not related to any of my series as of now (though I do have a separate fic in the making for The UnTitledverse). You'll find these under the cut:

Here's a WIP prologue for The True Sinners, where Joseph, per the Voice's orders, seeks out the Tarot Card Holder to tell him of his family's fate in a clearer form than the Voice can give as well as the identity of the Muse. The Voice had only given Joseph one warning; to take the Tarot Card Holder's words with a grain of salt, though his Tarot's knowledge is indispensable for their... newest wrench in the plan, the Holder himself should be considered untrustworthy and far beyond the human he had once been. Enjoy Joseph trying to keep his cool as the newest dickhead in the series, the Tarot Card Holder, tries to strike our favorite prophet's nerves down below:

The humming continued on as the Holder seemingly glided along the wooden planks from inside his stand. Joseph could not see his legs from underneath the extensive robes he wore, and watched in silence as the Holder, with his disproportionate size, did not disturb the various items he skimmed past in his little shop.

Hooded back turned to his customer as he rummaged through his piles of oddments, Joseph cleared his throat, proceeding with the matters he wished to discuss, "I've come here to seek your help, actually."

He received no response or reaction from the Holder, who ceased his humming in favor of grumbling, callously picking items up and throwing them away.

Seeing that didn't get the Holder's attention, Joseph continued, "It's of the upmost importance. The Lord had guided me here to help me understand what it is I'm not seeing in my visions. The old world is on the brink of a great Collapse that will-."

The Holder piqued up at that, stopped rummaging through his messy mound of junk. His hooded head slightly turned towards Joseph, indicating his attention had been reached, and his deep voice rumbled out, "A Collapse you say?"

Joseph let out a breath, briefly smiled to himself as he proceeded to explain, "Yes. I have seen visions of a Collapse that will end the current world and-"

"-And bring forth a new one, wipe the slate clean, etcetera, etcetera," the Holder interrupted, tone radiating mild annoyance as his hand motioned with haste, "I know what a Collapse is. I'm just confused on why that sadistic prick of all mechanisms wants a last resort of horrifying proportions like that to come this early in such peace."

Joseph blinked, brows furrowed as he sets his aviators back up. He watched the as the Holder's robed arm returned to dig around once more. The Holder stopped his movements, tugged at the object he found, and yanked it out of its little hidey hole.

Finally turning to Joseph as the stacks of trinkets collapsed and collided into clatters behind him, the Holder paid it no mind as he approached the front of the stand to see Joseph, face-to-face.

Or rather mask-to-face, considering the Holder's porcelain disguise.

The Holder leaned over the counter with one arm, and even without the stool Joseph sat on, or the size of the stand giving its owner an extra foot in height, he understood that the robed clairvoyant would still be two feet taller than him.

Joseph felt slightly intimidated being looked down upon by such a huge person, especially with all the Lord had said of this person. And yet, Joseph still held onto his faith. As long as he had faith, he would be safe from whatever vile temptations this man had.

"Whatever peace you may think is occurring isn't set to last for long," Joseph insisted, "And the Lord had guided me here. In His own humble admittance, in his own infinite wisdom-"

The Tarot Card Holder snorted with a shake of his head, "More like desperation."

Joseph breathed in a calming patter, just as his beloved had once taught him, "I am here seeking your help to know the fate of my family. A fate that he himself cannot foresee anymore."

The Holder hummed, resting his chin on his gloved palms, the triangular hood holding up like a strong tent, undisturbed by the motion, "And so it sent you to me of all creatures. You both must truly be desperate to get a win for once, huh?"

Joseph face crinkled as he eyed the Tarot Card Holder with weariness. A "win"? What is he talking about? Is this the deceit the Lord had warned me of?

"I don't know what you mean..."

The Holder's eyes, barely seen through his mask, bore down on Joseph. Letting out a huff of air, the Holder explained.

"I figured," he started, "But I must ask, how well do you know of the Muse chosen to take the role of "Hell"?"

Joseph did not comment on the words the Holder spewed out of his forked-tongue as the Voice had instructed, but he did close his eyes in thought, remembering the words and visions the Voice had shared with the Father. The fire. The Garden. Himself. And the ever-shifting future of his siblings, their life and their deaths. That was not the reason to why the Voice tasked him with seeking out the demeaning figure of the Holder.

No, he recalled, it had been the inconstant shape of Hell's figure which led God to push me towards this very stand. He remembered how volatile Hell's setting, form, and voice was within those visions.

"Nothing at all," Joseph admitted conclusively.

"I see," the Holder noted as he tilted his head, the mask betraying no emotion, revealing no humanity, "And yet you said you were here to know of the fate of your family. You do know the knowledge of someone's identity and the fate of loved ones don't exactly coincide correctly, right?"

As the Holder placed his hand from his chin to the counter, Joseph gawked in surprise as the Holder stood taller from within his stand, adding an extra foot in height than what Joseph initially believed. However, this stupor was momentary, as Joseph hunched forward, hands clasped together as he placed them on the counter, his rosary stuck between them.

"I am here to know the fate of my family and the identity of this "muse", this Hell who haunts my mind," Joseph elaborates, neck aching at having to look up so high at the broader figure, "I was under the impression you could provide me both."

The Holder chuckled, shaking his head as if he was admonishing a child, "You neglect the cost of such knowledge. If you've come seeking the Tarot's help free of charge, then I'll be the first to gleefully tell you that you can't have both. Pick one or the other, and hand over whatever possession you have on your person to complete this exchange."

The Holder glances from Joseph's face, which scrutinized the Holder, to his rosary to roaming around the rest of his body.

"Unless... you have another possession to offer alongside the one in your hands?"

Joseph caught on, glancing to the rosary in his hands, gripping it until his hands drained pale.

He avoided the Holder's eyes, and the larger of the two softly hummed, whether in understanding or waning patience of the exchange Joseph couldn't bring himself to focus. The Lord never mentioned this...

"It didn't tell you, did it?" The Holder deduced, chuckling, "Ah yes, such exchanges as these require you to offer something of equal value in return. Often time a gift from a loved one, regardless if they reside in the mortal realm... or have already departed."

Joseph brushed the ornament of the cross, the beads digging into the palms of his hands as he held on to it, like he was holding her hand again.

She always had faith. And she shared that faith with me, giving me back something I thought tainted and lost to the words and hands of Old Man Seed. Gifting me a piece of her, an immortalized memory, like the ink on my arm.

And he was expected to let it go?

"Why?" Joseph breathed out, voice so timid that he was surprised when the Tarot Card Holder scoffed in response.

"Why else?" his baritone voice drilled into Joseph's head, not so dissimilar from the Voice, yet this was more... cold indifference on the Holder's part. Irritation reeked out of his words, an annoyance that has grown over time from spending the many years, perhaps decades, answering the same questions over and over again.

In the Holder's eyes, Joseph was no different from any other person seeking out the Tarots' wisdom.

Taking Joseph's silence as lacking an answer himself, the Holder explained further, "A possession that was a gift from another is far more valuable to the individual than it would be if they got something for themselves. The level of care one must put in to preserve such gifts, makes it harder to let go."

The Tarot Card Holder's broad shadow encompassed Joseph's body, the shorter man hesitantly looking up to find the Holder had leaned closer to his face. And in the empty chasms of the masks sockets, Joseph spotted the dim glow of inhuman gold irises glowering into his pleading blue.

"So, Prophet. Are you willing to give up her rosary for the sake of your family? Or will you give it up for a stranger's face and name?"

Here's a WIP for The Waters Of Life Flow, my Fallout 3 fic in the A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore series. Imagine wanting to find your dad with your best friend but some strange, blindfolded woman hijacks that plan to get you to show her around the Wasteland that you've only set foot on (and can't back out under what may have been a threat of "consequences"... however vague that can be considered a threat). This is still in its early stages of development. Anyway, Alph and Amata walk Marissa "Ress" Bishop to Megaton as seen below:

The heat of the sun simmered down on the trio as two begrudgingly walked in front of one, a situation more likened to a warden keeping watch of her wards rather than two "locals" giving the "newcomer" a tour as their unofficially branded captor insisted.

Alph glanced to Amata, his best friend taking the heat outside the air-conditioned vault as well as he is. He could guess that her jumpsuit was itching against her skin as badly as his own was, the material clinging too close for comfort, the blue clothes damp from sweat.

He chanced a look back to the woman behind them, the glaze of her long platinum blonde hair shining with an ethereal beauty, almost like how he envisioned angels would have from Dad's descriptions.

However, Alph wasn't foolish enough to neglect the memory that this woman was anything but angelic. He saw how she killed those crazed people at the school. While not ungrateful for saving them, forcing both him and Amata to walk her around the area with his old, yet still functional, Pip-Boy was a different story entirely.

Especially since there is practically nothing noteworthy marked on my map, but she wouldn't know that.

Which was true, the two maps on his Pip-Boy only showed the markers that indicated the only Pip-Boy wearers in the vicinity, and the trails had made. The surrounding area around his marker was dark on the map.

Amata helped him mark down the coordinates of their Vault and he had the foresight to mark down the location of both the school and what had once been a neighborhood.

And now we're on our way to "Megaton"... or at least where I hope it is.

Alph snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a curious hum. His focus returned, and he realized that the woman had noticed his gawking, in spite of the fact she was still wearing a blindfold.

When she gave him what he assumed to be a friendly grin, he couldn't help but remember the manic one she wore when she slaughtered their captors. Freaked out by the bloody image, he turned his eyesight straight ahead, focused on maneuvering around the boulders in scattered around them rather than the woman behind them.

He heard her snort behind them, and Amata turned her head slightly to look back at the woman, but paused in the action, and shook her head as she kept forward.

Her face was flushed, dark skin boiling under scorching sun. He wasn't any better, with his lighter skin turning an uncomfortable red. How in the actual fuck is the psycho behind us not dying in those clothes?

Though the better question would be to ask how her pale skin hadn't been burned to a crisp from the flamethrower that mohawk guy blasted at her earlier, but he chalked it up to just defective equipment... for now.

He heard Amata gasp beside him, grasping his arm as she pointed forward.

"I-I think this is it!" she stated aloud, relief and joy flowing out of the laugh she let out. Alph focused forward, really missing his glasses, but through his blurry vision, he could see a mass of metal welded together to form a gate. There was also a robot out the front of it, the corpse of a giant insect full of charred holes only a few feet away from it.

Alph smiled, checked his Pip-Boy, and saw that the predicted coordinates were a match. He almost let out a chuckle.

Until he felt the hand of that woman pat his shoulder, then he soon lost his smile.

"Good job you two," she congratulated them, arms slinging over both their necks, "I knew you'd make perfect guides. Now unless you don't mind burning in daylight, I suggest you get a move on. Capiche?"

And here's six paragraphs for a small Classroom Of The Elite AU fic I've been working on, a little "What If" canon divergent scenario I've come up with. Essentially it boils down to "What if Kiyotaka Ayanokoji was accompanied by Takuya Yagami and Ichika Amasawa to the Advanced Nurturing High School?" as a ploy orchestrated by Atsuomi Ayanokoji to see how the masterpiece can perfect the two fifth generation students to be equal to him and give these two a chance to help Ayanokoji adapt socially. I haven't ironed out the exact details of how this is done, but I mostly wanted to write a fic where Ayanokoji was like an older brother-like figure to both Amasawa and Yagami (...in his own way) and how this would fuck up the plot. Also, my man Yagami needs a win after being done so dirty in the source materials. I will be combining elements from the anime, manga and light novel because I'm insane like that (especially for Yagami and Amasawa). Anyway, here's the six-paragraph introduction:

The bus ride had been uneventful thus far. We passed by Cherry Blossoms and the dwindling city buildings of Tokyo, and as a vehicle of public transport, occasionally pulled up at stops to pick up further passengers; few were casual citizens, most were high-school students.

I fell under the latter; amongst the seated boys and girls wearing white shirts under red blazers with gold trims, though with definite differences in the uniform depending on the student's sex, was myself, standing with one hand on my backpack, the other on the straphanger above me. I involuntarily shook as the bus drove on the road to my new location.

I kept my idle gaze out the bus window, the flurry change of Tokyo's scenery from declining pink to the increase of concrete tempting me the chance to ponder on whether the sociopolitical status of Japan's society met the standards of equality, but I had held off on following that thought, especially with two eyes fleeting glances at me from the seats behind.

I found their staring difficult to ignore, more annoyingly so due to my keen awareness of the fact. I had wanted to remain inconspicuous, but their fidgeting would bring unwanted attention towards me, and on themselves, if they were too frequent. Perhaps not consciously, but subconsciously the rest of the students could become curious or worse, intrigued by my presence if the two continued their prolonged stares.

Though I couldn't exactly fault my kohais; regardless of how ridiculous the notion was, their observation of me was not unfounded. For Ichika Amasawa and Takuya Yagami, I was an enigma, a living legend in their generation. Not only a name, but a title, a successful set of data that they were expected to surpass in the curriculum.

I wasn't so concerned about Amasawa, as her apparent admiration of me likely outweighed any desire to do anything against me. Yagami though... despite his gentle demeanor, I suspected he was hiding his true thoughts of me underneath the surface.

Nothing I could do now; we were all on the same bus, heading into an unknown ocean of variables and outliers. A consequence of Matsuo's kindness upon taking care of the three of us, I suppose.

[forabeatofadrum]

Thank you @cutestkilla for the tag!

I have some things to say! First off, have six sentences of Matt being a mess. @cutestkilla actually came up with this idea:

The polecat must be amazing at dodging, because it manages to avoid every spell. My spells are erratic and I hit parts of the office. Fuck, I am so fired after this. After I don’t know how long, the door opens again. “Miss Possibelf?” Simon Snow pokes his head in. “Simon Snow, save me!” I yell pathetically.

I actually have, uh, almost everything finished! Literally only chapter 5 is unfinished, but everything else plus the epilogue is done. I will probably tweak some things every now and then, but the fic has been written. Apart from chapter 5.

Secondly, not officially fic related, but y'all gotta see this fanart of Klaine at Kongresni trg, made by @esilher! I will get back to Ljubili se... one day. Look, Matty Chris D. just pulled focus! Also I told Esilher that I need to write Kurt and Blaine going back to Slovenia just so they can ice skate there. I never knew it was a thing, otherwise I definitely would've added it in Ljubim te, when they were actually in Ljubljana.

AND LASTLY, I, uh, suddenly and totally out of nowhere wrote 1.7K words for my Marlie fic that I started in 2022. Wack. I did scrap everything I had beforehand, but that's fine. I just got hit by the need to finish this fic and look I just miss Class. I know it was a failed Doccy Whomst spin-off BUT I LOVE CLASS. Woe, Marlie fic be upon ye! So keep an eye out for that one as well, I say, to my... readers? Do people still read Marlie fic?

And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @coffeegleek @caramelcoffeeaddict @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @cerriddwenluna @bookish-bogwitch @confused-bi-queer @that-disabled-princess @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @cutestkilla ​ @wellbelesbian ​ @artsyunderstudy ​ @martsonmars ​ @facewithoutheart ​ @shrekgogurt @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites @whatevertheweather @theotherhufflepuff @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion @esilher @kurtsascot @blackberrysummerblog @nightimedreamersghost

[roomwithanopenfire]

Happy Saturday! I'm posting early for two reasons. 1) I'm going on a trip today and won't have a ton of time tomorrow; 2) Today's my birthday! And I'm one of those people when it comes to my birthday and I want the attention 🙃

I am currently on a long road trip with two of my best friends so everyone cross their fingers that it isn't horrendously cloudy and we can actually see the total solar eclipse on Monday 🤞

I haven't done really much writing at all this week because I've been so busy (you can tell that there's only a month left of the semester with the sheer amount of projects I have to do in all of my classes). But I've been working away at editing Proof of Life, which in case you missed it has two chapters now with a third one coming on Monday (if only I could schedule AO3 posts like tumblr posts, my life would be so much easier). Anyway, snippet from the incoming Chapter Three. Fiona finally makes an appearance.

“Don’t mind the mess,” Fiona said, swatting me and my judgemental expression. “I haven't really had much time for unpacking.”

“I can see that.”

“Oi.” Fiona pointed her finger at me—mock-stern. “Don’t get sassy like that with me, Basil. I’ve been very busy.”

“Oh, yeah? Doing what?” 

Fiona clicked her tongue. “Important stuff. Don’t worry your pretty head.” I snorted. Important stuff. Fiona didn’t do anything important.

Don't let this snippet fool you though, this chapter will be mostly sad

Tags and Hellos: @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @facewithoutheart @run-for-chamo-miles @raenestee @artsyunderstudy @onepintobean @prettygoododds @noblecorgi @hushed-chorus @angelsfalling16 @thewholelemon @monbons @shrekgogurt @brendughh @a-maisie-ng @hertragedyconnoisseur @beastmonstertitan @valeffelees

[racerchix21]

Six Sentence Sunday Monday and Fuck It Fridays baby

@sinderellanightwolf tagged me yesterday in a Six Sentence Sunday and @scknight05 tagged me for Fuck It Friday and I’m finally getting around to answering 🤣😬 so enjoy y’all!

It’s Not That I Hate You But You’re Dating My Man (jealous Eddie btw)

Eddie meets Abby the first time when the train derailment happens a couple years after he moves to town but he already knows enough about her to not like her. The fact that she left Buck with the hope that she’d be back pisses him off because how could anyone love and be loved by Evan Buckley and decide to break his heart.

He knows that after a few months Abby had stopped answering Buck’s calls and emails. How Buck only knew where she happened to be on any given week because of the pictures she’d posted on social media. The nights that Buck wound up at the Diaz house hanging out with him and Christopher because he couldn’t handle being by himself in Abby’s old apartment. The nights he’s tucked Buck into his couch after they’ve had one too many and the mornings he’s woken to find Buck in the kitchen making breakfast because he’s trying to make himself useful so someone will want to keep him.

[meggie-jolly]

There is:

WIP Wednesday

Fic Rec Friday

Six Sentence Sunday

Am I missing any weekday prompts like that?

[brandileigh2003]

Six sentence Sunday Friday!

Ty @her-smile-forges-galaxies for tag

The way that I about shared the one that's going to be anonymous for remus lupin fest lol.

I'll do the only other that I have currently (trying the whole self control thing 🤣)

“I’ve tried to talk to you about things, Pads. Everything except the war. Don’t you think that it’s taken over too much of our lives already,” Remus shot back. “I feel like I don’t know who you are anymore Moo- Remus,” Sirius said. And oh, did that hurt. Because Remus has given every part of himself to Sirius, telling him about his anger issues, his pain, his childhood, his self doubt, his dreams, his fears, his hopes for the future.

Tagging @lavenderhaze @heartofspells @littleoldrachel and anyone else who wants to play, tag me and I'll read yours ❤️

[ace-cf-cups]

I'm curious (and want to somehow make my writing routine more fun in hopes it will help ke write consistently), what are the alliterated weekly writing trends/events that you know of?

I mean things like TMI Tuesday, WIP Wednesday, Flash Fic Friday, Sentence Sunday...

[quordleona03]

7 & 10 for wip ask game :)

7 - Ah, I'm really enjoying writing this WIP even if it's hard at times, because there are so many scenes to choose from for this question, but in the spirit of six sentence quoting and because it's francis friday, this is definitely always going to be one of them (Haas is an OC in this fic): Haas lifted his right hand, and signed: You can come home." Mulcahy swallowed, hard. He said nothing. He opened his jacket, tucked the archishop's letter away into an inside pocket, and took out a large clean handkerchief. He took off his glasses and began, slowly and methodically, to polish the lenses, head bowed. He slid his glasses back on, and blinked at Haas, and stood up.

"Vade retro satanas," Father Mulcahy said. 10 - Ah ha, well: "I suppose we'd have had to pack books loose into the van, and buy some cartons - there was a store a couple of blocks away, at least there was thirteen years ago." Sorry - but that literally was it!

[bunnys-kisses]

the jailbird

prisoner!simon 'ghost' riley

a full fic based on this post

cw: prison!au, civilian!reader, pen-pals, smut,romance/romantic!simon, domestic, missonary, wife kink, size kink, nudity, tattoo kink, body worship, cuddling

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own! reblogs are always welcomed!

it started out as a flyer at the bus stop near your house. it was for a service that connected prisoners at a nearby prison with civilians as pen-pals. you had seen the flyer often over the course of work as you went to work.

you honestly felt bad, those people must be isolated. the organization prided itself on giving prisoners a bit of their humanity back by not cutting them off from those on the outside. so on a rainy friday you took a photo of the flyer and filled out the form on the organization's website.

that was how you met simon riley, or as he was called on the inside 'ghost'. what caught your attention wasn't his face scar that ran from under his nose down to the left side of his chin, but rather his brown eyes. how intense they stared into the camera. it was almost intimidating.

but you kept the photo on your desk as you typed out your first letter to send to him. you heard of places who did it through email, but screen time for those could often be limited and to send a physical letter would ensure that it would be sent to them.

the letter started out simple, you asked how he was and if it was okay to ask what he was in prison for. you asked him other questions, like if his health was doing well, what did he do most days while on the inside. you ended the letter with a little information about yourself.

you thought it would be nice to take a few photos and print them out on photo paper to be included with your letter. just so he had a better idea of who he was talking about. once you tweaked the letter with a bit of editing, you printed it out and thanks to the Royal Mail, your letter was sent to him.

you didn't actually expect for him to respond. nor did you expect for the letter to be do detailed. it was almost three pages double sided in neat hand writing. your eyes went wide when you saw the thickness of the envelope with the stamp of approval from the prison for it to be sent to you.

simon sent you a bracelet made of string that had been braided together. he said you were the first person from the outside to reach out since he got locked up. that broke your heart. it only broke further the more you read.

he was a military man who was tossed aside once the ptsd got too intense. he had been between jobs, and it felt like everything was just too much for him. he got wrapped up in large scale theft, while it paid good, you could only rob so many banks before it all caught up. he had been in for three years now, he was thankful it wasn't a life sentence. not much was stolen, and there was minimal violence. he said that his stature alone intimidated enough people that he didn't need to be violent.

you re-read his letters and it wouldn't be until almost six months of speaking that you finally wore the bracelet. when he said, "i want to see you in it, since i can't buy you a ring." you sent a photo of you wearing it and since then you hadn't taken it off.

the letters were nice, you sent them at least twice a week. even though you two had never met face to face, and the only photos you had of him were mugshots, he knew all the gossip in your work place. he knew the names of all your friends, your favourite saturday night treat and how you took your coffee.

he told you he'd be happy to make you coffee every morning before you went to work. that comment made your cheeks burn.

he often called you his 'wife' to the other prisoners. he had your photos on the wall near his bunk. he even kept the pictures where you looked terrible after you tried to cut your bangs one night. he knew the exact location of where your favourite take out was. he said that he was writing down ideas of where to take you once he got out. "i gotta make the missus feel special."

he even made you a birthday card. his cellmate 'soap' even signed it. you knew all about the explosives expert mactavish. when you looked into his case on the news, your eyes went a little wide. this guy was.. something.

simon did admit that 'soap' had a bit of a crush on you. but he said that 'johnny' was harmless and probably just liked the photo of a woman in the cell.

"he hurt ya, there will be no cell that could keep me from killin' him. no god either."

simon remembered everything.

the way he spoke about you and to you in his letters were nothing but soft. while he had to put on a tough guy exterior, his letters were filled with gentle words. like when he wrote out that he loved you in big text on a spare piece of paper so you could tape it on your mirror to look at every morning.

"i want to be what you get ready to."

"i want to be with you when you wake up."

"i want to come home to you every night. please make me an honest man."

you knew he was a trained killer. he was in special forces before his brief stint as a criminal. he was trained to kill, but in the margins of your letters, his love shined through. despite it all, he was capable of love.

and he wanted to pour all that love into you, his (future) wife.

you two would go on to write letters every week, for almost two years. when you got the letter from him asking if he could put you down as a permanent address when he got out, you cried. of course!

it was a cold spring morning, the sky was misty as you stood outside the gates of the prison. your heart raced, you even arrived early in the hopes he'd be released sooner.

and then you saw him.

those eyes. hard and stern, until he caught sight of you. his shoulder visibly dropped and his pace quickened as he made his way towards you. before you could step forward to meet him, he had you in his arms. his strong arms, littered with tattoos, wrapped around you as he held you close to his strong chest.

you held onto him as the air left your chest from the force he held you. you clutched onto his shoulders and choked out a sob. you squeaked, "holy shit."

he pulled away from you, but still kept you in his arms. you swore you saw minimal mistiness in his eyes. he reached to cup your face. he said quietly, "soft... like i imagined."

you beamed up at him, "of course, si."

"your voice is so nice." he groaned as he then pulled you close once more and buried his nose in your hair. he inhaled the scent of your shampoo and relaxed, "i'm home."

you thought transitioning from being the only person in the flat, to having this hulking, strong man in your home as well, was going to be a bit hard. but that didn't matter when simon got you through the door. his hands were on you, he promised on the universe that he'd romance you tomorrow.

but tonight was just going to be the two of you.

you managed to get his hands off you in order to get your shoes off before you led him to your bedroom. he was close behind you, he had a hand on one of your hips. he wanted to be as close to you as he could, you two had spent enough time apart.

you couldn't even close the bedroom door before he was pulling at the waistband on your pants. his calloused, strong hands felt delicate on you. it was like he was going to break you and he had to be as delicate as possible.

"si."

"i know, darling." he said quietly as he started to undress you. with your help the both of you were soon nude in the afternoon light in your bedroom. you tried to cover your chest with your arms but he pulled your arms away and looked at you.

your eyes met and you got up on your tip-toes to kiss him gently on the lips. soon he picked you up like you weighed less than a bag of potatoes.

he placed you on the bed gently when you half expected him to toss you like a shot-put. he admired your body down on your soft covers and soon got onto the bed too.

you reached for him as he pulled you into a tight kiss. his lips were chapped and you could tease the fresh skin underneath. your nails raked at his strong back, that you knew was covered in tattoos.

you wrapped your legs around him and held him. from a moment he dropped to his side and you two held each other. you tucked his head under your chin as you laid together naked.

it wasn't even meant to be sexually stimulating, you both just wanted to feel one another. to hear your lover's heartbeat meant more to you than anything in that moment.

you kissed the top of his head, you felt his blond hair against your face as you soaked in his warmth. you could almost cry from how nice it felt to be so close to him.

after everything, you had your man.

he said in his low tone, "you feel so soft. after everything, i have you. you made every day in the can worth it." he sighed, "thank you." he kissed at your bare chest.

you replied, "i loved your letters, i have them still." you chuckled, "i didn't want to throw any of them away. it made me feel closer."

"well. i'm not goin' anywhere." he looked up at you and smiled, "you're home and i'm finally here." he pulled away and got him between your legs. he rested on his knees and carefully moved you to his liking. he sat there between your legs and waited for your command.

you looked at him and nodded, "yeah, si. you can go." then tightened your legs around your lover. you held your breath as he slowly pushed his cock into you. you didn't realize how big it was until he was fully inside of you.

"are you alright, love?"

"golden."

the two of you moved together. it took a little bit to get used to the size, but the pressure and speed of his movements made heat spread through your body. like two pieces of the same puzzle, you fit together perfect soon after. it was like you two were always meant to be.

you felt so loved by him, it was so sweet. this was your first time with him and you only had a few sexual experiences with others prior to him. but the entire time you knew each other you didn't sleep with others, you wanted to wait for your man.

"that's my good wife." he groaned as he held onto your hips, "i know, you wanted this for a long time. i bet you thought about me when i was locked up."

you blushed and replied, "i did, si. i thought about you all the time, i even had your picture in my office. i wanted this, i wanted to be with you!" you whined a little as his cock dragged against a sensitive spot.

he chuckled softly, "yeah. i thought about my missus when i was locked up. i used to jerk off to your letters, your photos. messed one of 'em up by gettin' my spunk all over it." he licked his lips, "but now i can see it every day in person."

you smiled when he rested his body against you and continued to thrust up into you. you felt the curl of pleasure of your gut get together which each of his heavy thrusts.

the kisses you shared were intimate and hot. the air of your bedroom was warmed as you made love on the bed you would share together. your soft noises together filled the air.

you clenched onto him, you dug your nails into his shoulders. they were so strong and broad that they were much bigger than your hands.

he kissed you one last time as he quickened his pace. the bed moved against your movements as you both climaxed at the same time. it was like a shock to the system, the heightened euphoria before your head felt full of cotton.

you let out a soft groan as your grip on his loosened and you relaxed into the bed. you felt yourself partially get crushed by your lover but he gave a few more earnest thrusts as he made sure that his cum shot to the back of your womb.

he pulled out and dropped beside you. he tucked some hair behind your ear and wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of his hand. your breathing was heavy, but you were both so happy. to share your first time together felt so special.

you nestled yourself into his arms and held his hand. you exhaled contently then said, "my husband."

he kissed the top of your head, he felt complete, "my missus."

part two

[hoshigray]

idk if you’re taking in requests or thirsts but imagine giving toji a lap dance and even then he’s still the one who’s in charge and shiittt 😵‍💫

i want him so bad 😞

lol, why did I think of a stripper AU when I saw this? Also, this ask is like MONTHS old, I'm so sorry...also tysm for 4.9k guyssss, ur too kind

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x stripper fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - sensual movements; lap dances + bumping and grinding - kisses (f! receiving) - clitoral stimulation - breast fondling + nipple play - biting/nibbling- pet names (angel, baby, sweetheart, sweetie) - no penetration, but things get steamy - cameos: Mei Mei, Nanami and Ino. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k

You were Toji’s favorite stripper.

You, your coworkers, and all the clients who come to enjoy the show all know this as fact. 

It’s all fun and games that this is your job, and you must cater to all the other men and women who come to see you strut and work your stuff (or else your manager, Mei Mei, would have your head).

But this is something that should never be forgotten. When that raven-haired man with a scar on his lip walks into the premises, everyone has to act right: you’re off-limits because you are his girl. 

Tonight was one of those Friday nights; women gather around the bar top to gather their weekend drinks – and flirt with Kento Nanami, the part-time bartender. Men under the influence howl at the topless entertainers, allowing them to motorboat and stuff cash into their underwear. And Ino, the DJ, plays the tunes that set the mood and keep the place going. 

Toji walks past all of that — he’s not here for it. He strides up to the open area, where there are mini stages abided by booths, a pole for each that comes from the ceiling down. He comes to one of the stages, and a dancer stops midway through her routine to greet the man, ignoring the girls who whine from her mesmerizing dancing coming to a halt. “Toji~, it’s Friday already?” 

“Yup, good to see you, Roxy,” he flashes a quick smile at the named entertainer. “They here today?”

Roxy giggles. “Knew you were going to ask me that. They should be at that back one over there at the corner…Oh! There they are.” She points, and Toji follows her finger to the promised stage and booth at the corner. He grins and gives a curt nod to Roxy before going on his way. “Enjoy the show, Toji~”

At the club corner is a booth filled with tired businessmen who come to drink. But guessing from the grins on their faces, they’re too enamored by what’s in front of them to quench their first. On the pole, twirling around the metal bar, was you. Entertaining the men with the usual routine, a few tricks, and moves to wow the mix of young and old business clients. And they gasp and roar at you, splitting your legs during a high kick.

Unfortunately, though, this was the last of their fun with you. Because after you transition from the pole, taking a client’s hand to have them aid you down the stage, something – or someone – catches your attention from the corner of your eye. You turn and smile, “Hey there, big guy.”

“Hey,” he greets you with a smirk. The guys around the booth watch, most with expressions as if their hearts dropped. Minus one, a young man who felt he should question the man standing next to him. 

“Uhh, excuse me,” he says to the dark-haired, burly man. The other colleagues looked at him as if he lost his mind. “We got this table first, so go over somewhere with the other strippers and—“ 

He could not finish that sentence. Because Toji pulled the kid off his seat with one hand, the poor bastard squeaked at the sudden action. Piercing green eyes bore into his skull, his blood shifting to icy cold. “How ‘bout I have you go somewhere? Either in the trash or six feet under, whichever floats y’r boat.” 

The scared look on the poor kid’s face didn’t change Toji’s attitude. Not even the other guys who were pleading to him to let their friend go, that he didn’t know what he was doing. He did not come here to start something, not tonight. 

And for that, you were the only one who could calmly intervene, dissuading the situation by placing a hand on Toji’s shoulder. “It’s all right, Toji. I was giving these guys a little show before you came in. Now, please let him go, okay? I don’t think Mei Mei would want to deal with another broken arm situation.”

It was the safest option that you spoke to him, his little favorite. So, with a gruff scoff, Toji lets the guy go for him to land on the floor roughly. “You heard ‘em, fellas. Outta my spot.” The entrepreneurs get up and scram with no hesitation, grumbling at the younger colleague for causing such strife in the first place as they walk away somewhere, leaving you and Toji. 

He watches them leave, turning to you when they’re at a respectable distance. Here is when he properly gets a good look at you. God, he could never get enough of you. You were wearing a black laced, caged mesh bra that covered your breasts, matching with lacy bottoms that shaped your hips beautifully. The bra was covered in rhinestones that shined with the club lights, which partnered with the side of your bottoms. And to complete the look, over-the-knee heeled boots that sparkled. A new favorite, Toji thinks.

“Well, now that you’re done terrorizing my guests,” you giggle and gesture to the booth seat. “Ready for me to spoil you?”

“Heh, think that’s the other way ‘round, sweetheart.” Toji chuckles as he takes off his coat and sits down. He notes you staring at his bulky arms for a quick second. You were fast, but not fast enough for him to catch you. “I’m sure y’re ready to drain my wallet.”

You walk between him and the stage behind you, bewitching him with the twinge of your lips as you bring your face closer. “Would that be a bad thing?”

Toji’s hand goes to your cheek, “A pretty lil’ angel like you? I’d let you rob every cent of me.”

The jest does its job of making you laugh before you withdraw your face from his hold. “You know the rules.” 

The older man rolls his eyes but obliges, putting his hands behind his head and shifting comfortably. “I know, I know. No touchy.”

“No touchy.” You repeat, knowing he’s on the same page while you warm yourself up. 

You start with the usual — he likes it. You turn and spread your legs, bending down slowly before him so he can get a perfect view of your ass and underwear. And you take your time getting up, using your hands to entice him by grazing them around your asscheeks. Next, you face him, eyes locked with his emerald ones. Taking one foot after the other, you bend again and place your hands on his thighs, rubbing them while maintaining eye contact. “How was work? Tough as usual?” 

Now, while you have rules of your own, he also has things he can’t share — like the fact that his primary source of income comes from killing people. It’s why he’s always sure to clean himself up before coming here, spending his hard-earned cash to see you. But he humors you with tiny hints, “Mmm, as usual. Broken nose here, blood on knuckles there.” 

You straighten up, placing a heeled foot on his right thigh. “My my, not that you got hurt, right?” 

“Not a single scratch.”

You lift a brow before bringing your leg down to swiftly sit on his lap, snaking your hands up from his abdomen and chest to his strong shoulders. “You’re quite the dangerous one.”

“Sure,” He chortles smugly, “but y’re one to talk.”

You play along, forming a small “o” with your lips to display faux surprise. All the while bouncing on his lap. “Me? Dangerous?” 

“Oh yeah, sweetie.” His eyes never leave your face, even when you sway to the side to measure his attention. “Y’re quite the little minx yourself.” 

Your eyes narrow, inching your face closer, your noses practically touching. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Slow grinds to his groin, it makes him swallow. You close your eyes, lips drawing in with a whisper. “Is it?”

Toji closes his eyes as well, falling for your sensual spell. “Not at all…” But nothing comes of it, only a string of giggles as you remove your face from his, poking the tip of his nose with your finger to signal with awake before fully withdrawing your figure from him. He grins, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ tease.”

“I don’t see you complaining, sir.” You throw the title at him with a playful smirk, batting an eye before turning around with your back facing him. You gently sit on his lap and transition your services to that of a lap dance. 

With an arched back, you roll your hips and ride on his lap, your butt rubbing on his jean-clad thighs to create heated friction. And Toji’s eyes examine your figure, from the highlighted skin of your back to the sway of your hips. The view of your butt rubbing on him gets him going, trying to fight the urge to just fuck the rules and grab your ass to grind on himself. Every rasp to his groin tests him to breathe steadily. 

But then, you just had to look at him over your shoulder with that cute, complacent leer. “How ya feelin’ there, big guy? Dangerous enough for you yet?”

Yup, fuck it. Rules be damned, Toji grabs for your ass and brings it down flat on his groin. The action takes you aback – unconditionally out of the accustomed routine. Before you can question him, Toji’s scarred lips are already at your ear. “You tell me, princess. Teasin’ me like that is just askin’ for it.”

You hold back a whimper when he comes to your neck, biting your lips when his lips meet your skin. “Mmmm…whatever happened to no touchy? You could get into trouble—“

“Aww, are ya worrying f’r me?” He snickers to your ear again, listening to you gasp at the buck of his hips to your ass. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, just keep dancin’ f’r me, ‘kay? I’ll take care of you…”

Toji bites the helix of your ear, rolling his hips to hump you. With a shaky moan, you grind on him to match his cadence. You’re nervous; this is against the policy: guests are not supposed to touch the entertainers. And yet, now, with Toji’s firm hands holding onto you and him whispering to your ear, it somehow feels different — a lot more hedonistic. 

You decide to play along, throwing your head back to his shoulder to rest, which gives him more access to kiss your exposed skin. His lips peck down your neck, and quivering wails seep from your lips when he mischievously nibbles on it. Too distracted to detect a hand snake down to your covered chasm. 

Now would be the right time to say things are going too far. You bring a hand on top of his, a silent warning for him. But he chooses to ignore it, creeping the other hand under the hem of your top. “Relax, baby. Just focus on danicin’, yeah?” 

This was so different, having a guest take the rails — no, having Toji take control of you. And you don’t dislike it; far from it, actually. If anything, it’s oddly exciting — letting the older man please you as you service him. It’s new and dangerous, especially in your workplace. But, oh my God, you don’t want it to stop.

You wrap your arms around his neck while he puts his back to the booth, using this to change into a different move. With your torso lifted and using your legs to maintain balance, you move your abdomen up and down. While you’re ghosting his groin with wave-like motions, Toji uses his fingers to play with your body. His left middle and forefinger rubs on your cover folds, roughly pressing down on where your clitoris is. A choked sob leaves puffy lips, even when his right hand is in your bra to grope your breast, his thumb swiping on your nipple to harden. 

“Mmmph! Ahhaaa, Toji…”

“Yeah, just like that,” he reassures you. Another tweak to your nipple has you bite your lips with a hum. “Just like that—“

“Am I interrupting something?” 

It took you mere milliseconds to recognize the new voice that enters your space, abruptly interrupting your session with purpose. You’re off of Toji just like that, hurriedly fixing yourself in the presence of your manager. “H–Hello, Mei Mei.”

“Hello there, Y/n.” She says it sweetly, but her words carry a stern connotation. The pale-blue-haired woman has her hair up in a braided ponytail while wearing a simple black split-thigh cami dress with mesh sleeves, and her gold earrings and red lipstick contrast with her pale skin. “Ah, I expected to see you here, too, Mr. Fushiguro.”

Toji greets the women, standing up at his own pace. “It is a Friday, Lady Mei.”

She smiled at the use of her business name; it was appropriate for what she was about to say. “Indeed it is. I decided to come down to check on the place and see how the life of the party was going. And all my guests seemed to be having quite a good time…Minus this one guy, who told me about the ‘scary fucker with a scar on his lip’ who lifted him like a doll and scared him and his buddies to a different table.” 

Toji rubs the back of his neck, chortling with a smug grin. “Hmm, the guy must be some dick.”

“Must be...Now listen, Fushiguro, I know how much of a valuable customer you are, throwing good money at my girls — my girl.” Mei Mei walks to you and places her cold hands on your shoulders. “I’d find it hard to have you not come here anymore for not keeping your hands to yourself. On my customers and my entertainers.”

“That I understand, my Lady,” he sighs at your manager’s lecture and crosses his arms. “But you know how I roll. I just come here to see your girls—“ He stops to shift his gaze on you. “Your sweet girl.”

“And I see you care about them quite a lot, your hand up their bra and your lips on their skin.” 

He shrugs it off. “I’m guilty.”

Mei Mei walks up to the older guest, her light violet eyes locked with his dark jade orbs. “Fushiguro, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid my rules apply to everybody. No touching the dancers. This is a strip club, not a brothel.” 

“Yes, Mei,” He grasps every word thrown at him, his eyes not leaving her feline ones. “It’s just a shame that I’m willin’ to pay whatever to have Y/n privately for one night in those lil’ VIP rooms upstairs.” 

A silver brow is quirked. “Are you trying to throw more money at my face to change the rules for your own convenience?”

“I’m trying to talk business, from one loyal customer to a good businesswoman.” He says nonchalantly, pointing to you with his chin. “That is if they’re up for it.” Now, why did he have to single you out like that? Because your manager turns to you with a patient look, gauging where you stand in this situation. 

It’s a tricky thing to answer: do you want to have sex with your guest that made you feel good minutes ago? This job is supposed to be an easy one, coming here to dance and swing your ass off til the morning sun for good money. Now, on the one night when things get a little too heated – with your favorite customer, mind you – you’re in a conflict. And you have to thank God you didn’t kiss him on the lips! 

However, it’s not like you don’t trust Toji; it’s the opposite. Sure, he can be a cocky bastard; there’s been instances where he’s touched you, but never like tonight. And yet, you didn’t find any danger in it. You were relaxed atop of him, leaning more into his touches. So, the thought that more could come from it is new. Chilling, but thrilling.

Your manager can see the inner turmoil through your face, so she answers in your stead, “Give it some thought for tomorrow, Y/n. And you,” Mei Mei turns back to the man guilty of this predicament. “Learn to behave yourself ’til then.” 

“I will, Lady Mei,” Toji sneers, grabbing for his coat to put on and taking a few bands to give to you. “And I’ll be seein’ you tomorrow, baby.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – divideres from @/cafekitsune.

[yukoii1]

❥# — 𝘐𝘯𝘧𝘰 slightly dirty, manipulation?, toxic relationship, stalking, choking, degradation?, cheating

☆ — 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 after breaking up with dabi, he doesn’t take It too lightly, and decides to claim what’s his again.

❣︎ — 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 finally started watch mha again. and l forgot how FINE most of these characters are 😩 but I lowkey got lazy at the end so I apologize:( but next story is going to be about shigaraki!.

this is for all my dabi fan girls 🫡.

𝑫𝑨𝑩𝑰 (𝑻𝑶𝑼𝒀𝑨 𝑻𝑶𝑫𝑶𝑹𝑶𝑲𝑰) 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕

dabi was extremely manipulative. during and after the relationship. during, It had there rough moments, always arguing, jealousy, cussing each other out etc etc bit despite those bad moments you guys had happy ones too. always cuddling each other, kissing, in general being love birds that made the league gag in disgust. though the relationship was a bit toxic..it did take you some time to build up the courage to break up with him. why? well because you loved him, so much that it hurt. you would assume he was like this because of his trauma but at the same not. you couldn’t lie to yourself and say you don’t miss him because fuck you do,

the day when you got the courage to break up the relationship dabi thought you would come running back but after 6 months going onto 7..he was slowly getting Irritated. can’t lie, you felt relieved but also lonely not going home everyday to see his pretty face already there waiting for you. but during the whole time he stalked you throughout the six months, seen you've gotten a new job as a secretary at a office building with a nice paying rate, you live In a nice neighborhood now, and even got yourself a new play thing. he hated It. hated seeing you with another man that’s not him. the day you ran into him and started fucking around was the day you signed an unbreakable contract.

when your shift had ended for the day you said bye to all your coworkers making your way home. It wasn't as busy considering It's a friday night and everyone was home resting, walking freely making your way down the street. you hummed a small tune, five minutes going by making It to your door step, unlocking the door entering your home. you turned around to lock your door, dropping your bag next to where your shoes were going to go to the kitchen before you felt a warm hand on the back of your neck with a body pressing behind you, "you're still unaware around your surroundings huh?." that voice..your hands clenched together with wide eyes, no. It couldn't?. "you miss me doll?." he chuckled hearing a small gasp, you were defenseless. against him you were a dove In a hawks grip. you swallowed that giant lump In your throat, fists clenching together "what do you want." he could hear the snarl In your voice only chuckling, flipping you around harshly pinning you against the door. facing him. those blue teal eyes..haven't seen those since you've last seen him.

still attractive as ever.

he smirked seeing you eye him, trying so hard to look at him with hate but knowing you? you were easy to see through, you missed him but trying so hard to deny It. "you want me to be honest or lie to you?." you furrowed your eyebrows glaring at him. "like you've never lied to me before.." you spat, dabi raised a brow shrugging, "but you've always fell for It dove. you used to listen to everything I said to you, lie or not." your nails digged Into your palm remembering those memories, the deep memories you wanna keep locked away, "what're you getting at dabi." he hummed. "I've been watching you dove. got a new job at an office building as a secretary, moved Into a nice place..even got yourself a little boyfriend huh?." this bastard still hasn't changed a bit. you tsked. "and what If I did? that's non of your busin —!.” you choked on a gasp getting cut off from your sentence feeling his hand on your throat squeezing It but not hard enough to close your air pipe, just enough to shut you up. your eyes widened. those bright teal eyes were now darkened and serious. a look he gave you when you broke up with him. "just to get this clear doll, the day you slept around with me was the day you signed an unbreakable contract." — he leaned closer towards your ear leaving shivers to run up your spine, "you're mine and no matter how much you try to deny it baby It’s all a lie."

you wanted to argue back but..

seeing that look on your face proved him right. he chuckled moving his hand to your cheek placing his thumb on the bottom of your lip slightly opening It leaning In close, “wanna know something sweetheart?.” you grumbled. but he was going to say It anyways, “those nights where you would finger your little hole, I watched It all.” seeing your reaction he hummed, “every night I can practically hear your needy moans..legs spread open with your fingers deep In your pussy. wishing, It was me instead. Isn’t that right?.” whenever you got hot and bothered thinking too much Into the past this is the result of that, you admit. you did wish It was him Instead, of your useless fingers. the guy— ur boyfriend that fucks you everytime couldn’t provide your needs like dabi could. and you guessed you could see he realized that seeing his face. dabi laughed with a scoff, “bastard can’t even fuck you right can he?.” you groaned feeling his other hand slide between your thighs, dabi chuckled leaning in, “I’ll treat you right, bet you’re so pent up huh?.” without saying much more he placed his lips against yours. you hated how much effect he has on you.. the moment he kissed you, you kissed him back missing the way he used to touch you like this, dabi smirked Into the kiss, picking you up by your thighs whimpering In his mouth. "see?." he teased pulling back from your mouth placing you on the bed going to take off his shirt, you snarled bucking your hips up with a small moan. “shut the fuck up and jus’ fuck me already you bastard..” dabi threw his shirt off to the side going to unbuckle his pants looking at you with a lustful gaze tilting his head to the side, “trust me baby.”

“I am.”

[samaraannhan20]

Spencer Reid Imagine: You Have an Audience

A/N: I tried to make this timeline accurate, but after a while I realized it wasn’t and I didn’t want to change it, so just know that this does not necessarily fit the timeline of the show. In my head I was envisioning season 8 Spencer. 

“Hey hun?” I call out from the bathroom where I am standing in the bathroom getting ready for bed. Spencer is right out the door in the bedroom, and I hear him close his book and get up to come walk to where I am. When he reaches the doorway he stops.

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“I don’t have work on Friday. I could bring you lunch that day,” I tell him, turning to him as I put moisturizer on.  

“You want to risk your dad finding out if you come in?” he asks, with concern written on his face.

“I swear he said something about not being at work the other day,” I say, pausing and grabbing my tooth brush while thinking back on my conversations with my dad the last few days. He kisses the top of my head and then goes back to the bed to lay down and read his book. As I stand there scrubbing my teeth I realize what he had said. 

“Mhe faid bhe las la pate hat ay!” I exclaim, rushing into the bedroom with my toothbrush hanging from my mouth. Spencer drops his book and laughs as he looks at me standing there looking like a madman. 

“What?” he asks when he stops laughing. I hold my finger up and walk into the bathroom, rinse my mouth out, shut off the light, and go lay down in the bed. I curl up next to Spencer before repeating my sentence. 

“He said he has a date with Krystall that day at lunch, so he shouldn’t be in the office when I bring you lunch. But I can call Penny tomorrow to double check,” I say, before closing his book and taking it from him, tossing it onto my night stand. “Let’s go to bed though. I have a full day tomorrow, after having parent-teacher conferences at the beginning of the week.”

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

I shove a bite of leftovers in my mouth as I pick up the phone and call Penny

“Hey Pen!” I say as Penny picks up the call. 

“Hey little Rossi! What’s up?” 

“Do you know if my dad is going to be at the BAU during lunch tomorrow? I was wanting to bring Spence lunch because I don’t have school, but I want to make sure my dad won’t be there.”

“Y/N! You guys still haven’t told him?” she questions. 

“No. We decided the other day that we were going to tell him after our six months next week. We never doubted that we would stay together, but we wanted to be able to show it was serious before we told him. Because if we had just gotten together when we told him… well,.”

“He’d lose his cool and make you break up. Right,” she replies with a small chuckle. 

“Yeah. So, he told me he would be on a date at lunch tomorrow, but before I commit to bringing Spence lunch I want to make sure he will actually be gone. And not only do you know everything, but I know he has to fill out a thing saying he’s going to be out. Which I still think is weird since it’s just lunch, but I guess it makes sense if there’s a chance he won’t be back before his lunch break is over.”

“Y/N you just rambled so hard. Let me look real quick sweet pea,” she says, and I hear her start typing away. “Yep,” she says after a second. “Looks like he will be gone for lunch tomorrow. You should be good to go.”

“Awesome, thanks Pen! Do you want a dessert or anything when I come in?” 

“You know I do. Just bring me something from wherever you wind up getting takeout. I’m not picky about my desserts,” she says with a small laugh. 

“Great. Thanks again Penny! I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay! I’ll send an email downstairs warning them that you are coming. Bye!” she responds, and I say thanks and bye and then hang up the phone. 

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“I overheard your dad asking Penny why you were coming in at lunch tomorrow,” Spencer says to me as we sit at my kitchen table eating dinner later that night. 

“Oh crap,” I say around my bite of crab rangoon. “What did she say?” I respond after finishing chewing. 

“She said you were bringing her lunch and hanging out for a bit. At which point he told her to keep you there until he got back from lunch with Krystall because he hasn’t seen you in a few weeks,” he says, shooting me a look that says more than his words did.

“I know. It is bad for me to not see him for so long, but I knew that if I saw him in person he would ask me why I seem so happy and I would immediately spill about our entire relationship because I have no backbone,” I tell him, standing up and taking my half full plate over to the counter and grabbing the saran wrap , wrapping my leftovers up. 

“You’re done already?” he asks from where I left him at the table, and I don’t say anything, just nodding and then walking over to the couch and sitting down, grabbing my kindle and turning it on. I sit there silently, not even reading, just staring off into space with tears slowly falling down my face. 

I hear Spencer stand up and push his chair in a few minutes later, and then I hear him walk over to me. He leans down and presses a kiss to the top of my head. He walks around the couch, setting something down on the side table before lifting my feet up and resting them on his lap as he sits down. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking my kindle out of my hands and setting it next to whatever he had placed on the table, and then pulling me even closer to him by my legs. 

“I feel so guilty for keeping so many secrets from him. I mean he didn’t even really know my half sister, and yet they’ve formed a relationship like ours is. Or I guess used to be. When I was a kid and my mom decided she didn’t want me around anymore and sent me to live with him we built such a great relationship. And throughout high school it stayed great. And then I moved out for college and we spent less time together, and he got back together with Krystall, and I had moments where I felt her daughter and Joy were replacing me. 

“Which I told him about and we fixed it and things were great again. I graduated, got a teaching job nearby, and we were great. I would spend so many nights having dinner with him, or with him and Krystall. I would go with him to visit Joy. He knew everything there was to know about me, I told him everything,” I say, wiping a tear off my face as I finish my speech. 

“And then you got together with me,” Spencer says quietly. I nod, allowing another tear to fall down my face, wiping it off and then I reach out and grab Spencer’s hand.

“I don’t want you to think I regret you. Because that is the last thing I am thinking or feeling. However, I am having extended amounts of anxiety about him finding out before we tell him. I don’t think that he won’t approve, because he knows how amazing you are, you’ve been friends for so long. He sees you as a son already, and not just because you’re with his kid and probably going to be family one day,” I say, the last sentence slipping out of my mouth so easily. I knew the comment wouldn’t bother Spencer, because even though we have only been together for a little less than six months we have had the conversation already, and we both feel that we are it for each other. “But the reality we have to think about is the fact that we do have a sizable age difference, which he is not going to just let go. And he’s not going to be happy we kept it a secret for three months. And he probably won’t be happy about…” and before I can finish the last sentence Spencer cuts me off. 

“Okay listen. First of all, in the long run, I’m only eight years older than you. Which isn’t bad. It just seems longer because I graduated from everything so early. And because when we met I was working with your dad and you were still in college. Yes, I’m 32 to your 24, but you have more dating experience than I do, because you went to college in your late teens and early twenties, not when you were 12. And as for the keeping it a secret for three months, I think over time he will understand why we did that. I mean he kept getting back together with Krystall from you for a good amount of time. How long was it again?”

“Like almost a year,” I say with a small laugh. 

“Exactly my point. He’ll get over it,” he says, and takes my hand, pressing a small kiss to the top of it. “Now, if you’re done freaking out, I brought your food over for you. I know you weren’t actually done, that you were just anxious,” he says, reaching over to the side table, grabbing the plate and handing it to me. As I take the plate from him I lean forward pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“I love you. And I appreciate you so much. I wouldn’t want anyone else to know me so well,” I tell him, before pulling away and immediately popping a bite of food into my mouth.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“Y/N, I didn’t realize you were coming in for lunch today,” Aaron says as I carry the to-go bag full of food over to the kitchenette in the BAU. 

“Yeah, I had the day off,” I say with a small smile as I put things down. 

“Well, I’m assuming it’s for Penny, since your dad is out for lunch with Krystall today,” he says with a knowing smile on his face. 

“Oh man. You know everything don’t you,” I say with a groan, sitting down at the table in the small kitchen area. 

“Yeah. Turns out I am pretty good at my job,” he responds with a smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell your dad anything until you and Spencer decide to. Also, I know my opinion isn’t really the one that matters, but I think you and Spencer are a good match,” he says, patting my shoulder before walking away. I put my face in my hands and groan, before getting up and walking over to Spencer’s desk. I sit down in his chair and spin around in it, glancing around the rest of the room. Before too long I hear voices begin to drift into the room. 

“Wow it smells good in here,” I hear Derek say as he walks in the room. He spots me before Spencer does, and I watch as a mischievous smile comes over his face. “Hey baby, come to bring me lunch?” he says, walking over to me and picking me up from Spencer’s chair, spinning me around before setting me on the floor and placing a loud kiss on my cheek. 

“In your dreams Morgan,” I say with a laugh, walking around him to Spencer. I fling myself at him as soon as I get close enough. “Hey babe,” I say, stretching my face up to his for a quick kiss. He mumbles a hello, and I unwrap myself from him and take his hand, dragging him over to the table. “I got Italian. I was craving some chicken alfredo,” I tell him as I sit down next to him and start pulling the food out of the bag. He chuckles and helps me unload the bag, before sitting down next to me. 

We sit and eat our food together, making small talk, and talking to his coworkers everytime they come up to the table we’re sitting at. 

“Hey teacher lady,” Penny says to me as she sits down next to me with her lunch in her hands. 

“Hey Pen,” I say, leaning over and giving her a hug. “So you told my dad I was bringing you lunch?” I ask with a small smile.

“It seemed like the best answer. Unless you wanted me to out your relationship,” she says with a shrug and a sly smile. 

“Thanks Pen. Always thinking on the fly.” She shrugs again and digs into her lunch. I hand her the dessert I got her and she thanks me with a small smile.  “Did he tell you when he would be back?” I ask her after a minute or two of the three of us eating in silence. 

“No. Sometimes it's a longer lunch and sometimes it’s shorter. Depends on when Krystall has plans next.” I nod in understanding, and then turn my attention to Spencer. 

“Do we have plans for dinner tonight?” 

“Not any specific ones. It’s Friday though so I thought I could order some type of take-out for us and we could watch a movie,” he says and I nod.

“Ooh can we rent that new rom-com? I know they aren’t your favorite but I’m in the mood for one. We can watch that and then a foreign film for you,” I say, hoping the foreign film will get him to say yes. 

“We don’t also have to watch a foreign film,” he says with a small laugh and shake of his head. “We can watch that new movie. I don’t have a problem with it,” he says, leaning over and kissing the top of my head. I look up at him and smile, before pulling him closer and placing a kiss on his lips.

“Aww, you guys sicken me,” Penny says in a baby voice, and I laugh, flipping her the bird and then kissing Spencer again. “Um, Y/N,” she says when I pull away from Spencer again, and I turn and look at her, not even registering the nervousness on her face.  

“What Penny?” I ask with a small smile on my face, my smile growing bigger when Spencer pulls my chair closer to his and wraps his arm around me. “You have an audience,” she says in a whisper, pointing behind us. I sit up straight and glance at Spencer, grabbing his hand in mine, before hearing the tell-tale clearing of my father’s throat. 

“I am not turning around,” I whisper, my hands starting to shake as I realize who exactly is standing in the doorway of the BAU. “He can’t do anything if I don’t even turn and look at him,” I say even quieter than before. Spencer squeezes my hand, looking down at his food, and Penny’s eyes keep darting from him to me and then back again, with a dart of her eyes to my dad every few seconds. We sit there in awkward silence, me refusing to move, for what feels like a century. 

“There’s no case today, and my paperwork is all done. We could do this stand off all day long,” I hear from my father after probably a minute has passed. “Or, you could stand up and walk with me to my office.” I flinch, looking over at Spencer, and then at Penny. Penny scrambles to gather her food, and walks with her head down past my father, mumbling a small good luck to me as she leaves. Spencer squeezes my hand, and I nod my head in defeat, standing up. Spencer stands up with me, pulling me into a hug.

“Nothing he says matters,” he whispers to me as we hug. “I love you and you love me and that is what matters. Nothing else,” he says, and then places a kiss on the top of my head and lets me go. I nod again, and then turn my body and stiffly begin to walk to my father’s office. I hear him begin to follow me, but not before I hear what he says to Spencer.

“You’re next. My office in twenty minutes,” he says, and I can’t even bring myself to look over my shoulder at Spencer, instead choosing to continue walking to my father’s office. 

As I enter my father’s office I immediately sink into the couch he has sitting on one wall, covering my face with my hands. It isn’t long before he walks in, and I hear him turn one of the chairs sitting at his desk to look at me. He sits down silently, not saying a word for at least two minutes. After what feels like a century of sitting in silence, he finally speaks up. 

“I’m not mad. I know you think I am, but I’m not,” he says, and I let my hands drop from my face, looking at him. 

“What?” I ask, shock evident in my voice. 

“I mean I was mad a month ago when I figured it out, but I’m not mad anymore,” he says, a small smile coming across his face. 

“A month?” I whisper, confusion written across my face as I try to figure out how he knew a month ago.

“You aren’t as sneaky as you think. A little over a month ago I drove over to your apartment because it had been awhile since we spent any time together, so I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner together. When I pulled up to your building, I saw Spencer’s car outside. At first I thought it was a coincidence, that maybe he was seeing someone else in your building, so I parked and headed in. Your doorman let me in because he knew I was your dad,” he said, and I immediately remembered which night he was talking about, because Mark had told me he had sent my dad up, but because I never heard him knock I chalked it up to Mark getting mixed up over which tenant’s dad went up.

“So I went up to your apartment. When I got there, I knocked, but I guess you didn’t hear me. I stood in the hallway and waited, but I could hear you talking to someone. Being the profiler that I am, I leaned on your door and listened to the voices, trying to make sure you weren’t in trouble, because you hadn’t told me you were dating any one person, or even that you were going on dates. And then I heard him,” he says, and I immediately remember what he had heard. 

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Flashback:

“What are you going to tell your dad when you’re out of town next weekend?” Spencer asked me as I stood in the kitchen chopping vegetables. I pause my cutting, thinking I heard a knock at the door, but then determine it was just my knife hitting the cutting board and start up again.  

“That I’m going on a trip with a few of my fellow teachers at work. But I also will only have to tell him if you guys don’t get called on a case. If you do it won’t matter because I won’t be going anywhere,” I tell him with a shrug. 

“I mean you could still go,” Spencer says, and I stop what I’m doing to turn and look at him. 

“For one, I’m not going on a couples trip to a spa without you. And for two, you’re a profiler. You should know how dangerous it is for women to travel on their own,” I tell him, crossing over to him. 

“I know, but I still think you deserve a weekend away. I know the stress of not telling your dad has been weighing on you. You need a weekend at a spa.”

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be fun without the man I love,” I say, and stretch up to place a kiss on his lips. 

“I love you,” he says in response, and then pulls me in again. When we pull away again he smirks at me. “How hungry are you?” he asks, and I laugh and take his hand, dragging him into my bedroom. Neither of us noticed the shadow of feet under the door as we walked by it. 

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“You heard us talking about the spa trip,” I whisper looking at the ceiling as I calculate just how much he may have heard. 

“Yeah. I finally decided it was time to stop eavesdropping when I heard you walk towards your room. I went down to the lobby, waved bye to your doorman, and left. I was pretty angry so I didn’t text you or call you to let you know I had been by. I went home, and told Krystall everything that I had heard. I wanted to get right back in my car and go over to your apartment and yell at you, but she talked me out of it. She reminded me that you would tell me when you were ready. I expected it to be within the next week, but then you still didn’t, and before I knew it it was past the time where it would be acceptable for me to bring up the fact that I knew. So I decided to wait until you were ready to let me know,” he says, and the way he sits back after he finishes shows me that he’s done. 

“We were going to tell you next week. Next week is our six month anniversary, and we were waiting to tell you until after that,” I say, looking at him to see his reaction to knowing just how long we had been hiding this from him. He doesn’t show much of one, so I continue. “I wanted to be able to prove that we were serious about each other before I told you. I knew you would wind up thinking it was just a fling and it would change your work relationship with him if you knew before it had been a while.” 

“Honey, from the moment I realized something had changed about you, I knew whatever it was was either a forever kind of thing or something that was going to put you in the hospital if it ended. I never would have thought it was just a fling between the two of you,” he says, standing up and coming to sit next to me on the couch. I scoot over and wrap my arms around him. 

“I just didn’t want you to be disappointed,” I tell him, tears welling up in my eyes as he wraps his arms around me. 

“I never would be,” he whispers, placing a kiss on my forehead.  We sit together in silence for a few minutes, before a knock comes from the door, and the door pushes open less than ten seconds later. 

“Sir, I love your daughter,” Spencer says as he steps foot in the room and closes the door behind him, not looking at the two of us as he does so. I laugh a watery laugh, and my dad kisses me on the forehead once more before pulling back and standing up. 

“I know you do,” he says as he walks over to where Spencer is standing. Spencer looks at him confused, and then looks at me and sees the tears falling down my face. He moves to walk over to me, but I hold my hand up and motion towards my dad. 

“Rossi, I don’t know what she has told you so far, but I want you to know that I love her more than anything, and I plan to one day marry her,” Spencer says, looking at my dad. My dad chuckles at Spencer and holds out his hand.

“Welcome to the family then Reid.”

[colubrina]

How I Got My Agent, Take Two

I’m so ridiculously over the top happy to say I’ve signed with a literary agent to sell my magical bookbinder book.  This has been a long process that started in 2017, and I’m genuinely overjoyed.

It played out thus:

Write book one.

Write book two. Query the book.

Write book three. Query the book.

Write book four. Get into Pitch Wars with the book. (Yay!) Query the book.

Write book five. Get into Author Mentor Match with the book. (Yay!) Query the book.

Write book six.

Write book seven.

Write book eight.

Write book nine.

Get a Revise and Resubmit offer from an agent for book five. Do it.

Start querying book six.

Get an offer from the R&R (Yay!)

Write book ten.

Book five dies on submission.

Start writing book eleven.

My agent and I amicably part ways.

Start writing book twelve.

Finish querying book six.

Query book ten.

Start writing book thirteen.

Go back to book eleven.

Go to a live pitch event. Pitch book eleven to two agents. Neither likes it. One asks what else I’m working on, and when I do the one sentence pitch for book twelve, says, “I could sell that.”

Pivot to finishing that book.

Query book twelve, sending queries first to four agents who only want queries and who are actively requesting off those queries. Get a 75% request rate. Query is fire. Check.  Unfortunately, every agent rejects when they see the opening pages, which turn out not to be fire.

Revise opening

Resume querying book twelve.  In case you’ve lost count, while this is the twelfth book I’ve written, it’s ‘only’ the seventh I’ve queried.

Finish drafting book thirteen in NaNo. Revise. Send to CPs.

Have existential crisis on a Tuesday. Meltdown on Tumblr. Weep in my living room. All my books have failed.  I do not know how to write a better book.  Maybe I should give up. This turns out to be a very well-timed dark night of the soul within the narrative.

Get two full requests for book twelve on Wednesday.

Get an email telling me one of my short stories has been held for consideration on Thursday.

On Friday get an email that the woman who handles submissions for one of those agents from Wednesday loved the book but she doesn’t think it’s a great fit for the agent I queried.  Would I mind if she forwarded it in-house to a different agent?  In shocking news, I would not mind this. 

On Monday, get an email asking for a call.

On Wednesday, which is Valentine’s Day, have a call with the agent.  She’s lovely in every way, her thoughts on the book are so good, every editorial idea she floats is good. Like, really good.  She is super enthusiastic about repping the book and offers to do so.

There is an etiquette requirement at this point that I tell any agent who has the book that I have an offer on the table and give them two weeks to respond, so I go around nudging all the agents with a full (four people) and several agents who only have a query. Three more agents request fulls. The rejections start trickling in.  People are very sweet and complimentary, and I am deeply, deeply relieved that I never waver from how much I adore the original offering agent.

I sign with her on February 29.

Final stats for Book Twelve (THE ARCHIVE OF THE WORLD):

Total Queries Sent:  39 Requests Before Offer: 8 (20.5% request rate) Request Rate Including Post-Offer Requests: 28.2%

Year I Started this Nonsense:  2017 Total Queries Sent across 7 books:  456

Takeaway wisdom:  The query trenches are a soul-mangling machine into which we all keep putting our souls and most of us don’t make it out unmangled.  I am not unmangled. BUT, I am a persistence hunter, and I will walk steadily towards publishing until it lies down in exhaustion and gives up.

Thanks for hanging out with me as I do.

Also, this book is so much fun.  You’re going to love it.

[nickfowlerrr]

This picture has ruined me. Now I need a fic with Bucky as your professor banging you in the library during regular hours.

clear your mind

pairing: professor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

words: 7.5k

warnings: 18+ ONLY. smut. public sex. cockwarming. student/teacher relations. possible age gap depending on how you read it (reader is at least 25 or older but it’s not really specified and bucky is late 30s or older but again, not specified. imagine whatever you like.) i added an alternate kind of darkish ending that is separated with a divider near the end (duh) but of course you can choose to not read it and stick to the original cute ending lol. if i’m missing anything you feel needs to be added, please let me know.

notes: disclaimer: i never technically went to college so i don’t really know what i’m writing about lmao but when i say this was instant inspo, i mean instant. i’ve been in such a funk since i lost chapter four of keeping secrets, but this really ignited something in me so i just went for it. it was originally gonna be a little smutty drabble but then i started writing and it just became a whole one shot - not that i’m complaining lol. this was so fun to write, thank you @sammyisfat for sending it in! 🖤 i hope you all enjoy it! as always, feedback and comments are welcome and appreciated. and thank you in advance for reading and reblogging!

You were sitting hunched over, eyes scanning the same sentence repeatedly, trying to force yourself to focus. You were reading the words but you weren’t really putting them together. You were too bored to make them make sense. Your brain was far off and you were sure you were about to burn out completely at this point.

Why you thought going back to school after so long was a good idea was beyond you. Was the degree really worth it? You’d gotten this far without one, hadn’t you?

As you were contemplating your life choices, and working on convincing yourself to just screw it and drop out, you’d failed to notice the presence of two of your professors passing by.

You had been alone at the far back of the library, closed in by the sturdy cases of books around you, for so long you’d nearly forgotten you were actually there. You had needed solitude, lest the chatter of other students in study groups or working on projects distract you further than your mind already did on its own. Your back was to the open aisle so as not to get distracted by anyone passing by, either. The zone you were occupying was normally a hot spot, but on a Wednesday afternoon, not so much. And for that you were grateful.

The knock on the bookcase next to you accompanied by your name being called, almost in question, startled you as you quickly corrected your posture and looked toward the noise, adjusting the glasses you were wearing as you did. You were greeted with two pairs of blue eyes looking back at you. Standing next to the bookcase, waiting for your response were two of the most lusted after professors on campus. And that wasn’t just you thinking so. The way students fawned over both Mr. Barber and Barnes was near juvenile. They were like kids gossiping about their crushes in elementary school. It was always funny to you seeing the line of people waiting to speak with Andy at the end of class every Wednesday and Friday, whether they had a genuine question to ask or not. You couldn’t say you didn’t get it, though. He had great hair, a soft smile, kind eyes.. He was gorgeous. It was clear why so many people had a thing for him. But you always found yourself a little more than preoccupied with thoughts of Mr. Barnes. Though they were both at least six foot tall and unfairly attractive, easy enough to spread your attention between both of them, as most of their students did, there was just something about James that had you in a hold since the first day you met him.

It was your first day on campus and you’d accidentally bumped into him with your green tea as you were leaving the small corner cafe after your first morning class. You apologized profusely, but he’d claimed it was his fault, that he wasn’t watching where he was going. He insisted on buying you a new drink as he removed his tea damp jacket. You didn’t fight him on it, walking back into the cafe as he held the door for you. You introduced yourselves as you waited for the drinks to be made and spoke a bit. It wasn’t a super long interaction, both of you having places you had to be, but you would have sworn there was something there. And the glimmer in his eye as he smiled and told you he’d see you around convinced you it wasn’t one sided. You were instantly smitten, hopeful you would see him again, that maybe it could lead to getting to know him better, lead to something more.

That was until you walked into your afternoon class the next day to find him standing at a podium, setting up his orientation slides. You had been hoping all day to run into him, but this was certainly not how you’d been imagining the circumstances. Of course he was your professor. You breathed a humorless laugh to yourself as you found a seat. You got your laptop out and looked back up at the same time he looked up from his, making direct eye contact with him. You saw the instant he recognized you and gave him a tight lipped smile that he returned before you diverted your gaze back down. His look of disappointment matched your own, but at the very least, it made you feel wanted.. The “professor x student” trope was never really your cup of tea, but as the weeks went by, the stolen glances and secret longing stares you exchanged were starting to change your mind. After one particular heated night of self pleasure, absentmindedly picturing him while you were reveling in your own touch, imagining it was his, you knew you were really gone for him. And heaven help you, the idea of it really happening was growing hotter and hotter the more you told yourself you couldn’t. Imagining showing up to his office hours one evening and just letting him have you any way he liked. Letting him take you apart on his desk, or sucking him off under his desk while he works. God, you’d daydreamed so many scenarios.

You just couldn’t bring yourself to act on any of it. You didn’t know how to. More importantly, you knew you shouldn’t. It wasn’t like you were some barely legal star eyed student he’d be taking advantage of, but still, you were his student. You weren’t sure how that dynamic might play out or the optics of it for either of you. Instead you willed yourself to stay focused on the work, to keep your thoughts set on passing the course and that was all.

Even when you would find yourself needing actual help from him or needing to ask him about an assignment, you would always talk yourself out of it. You didn’t want to let yourself be alone with him, you couldn’t be trusted. You were worried you’d make a fool of yourself the second you got the chance. So instead, you’d get help from a classmate if you could or you’d end up just winging it. It had been working that far.

The real problem started just last week. This most recent section was challenging to say the least. You had tried the study group offered on Monday nights, but you got absolutely nothing done.

Your last essay assignment had been returned to you on Friday with a note on it, asking you to come by his office hours before the next class. You had been putting it off all week, but knew you’d have to go by Thursday. You just weren’t expecting to see him around any earlier than that.

“Professors,” you greeted, slightly taken aback.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Mr. Barber apologized. “Thought you might’ve heard us walking up.”

“I was uh, lost in the text, I guess,” you replied, giving them an awkward smile.

“Well, I’m glad someone’s reading it,” he laughed.

“Do you mind if we join you?” he continued, motioning to the otherwise empty table you were sitting at the end of. It was big enough to seat at least 8 people easily and it’d, of course, be rude of you to try and keep it for yourself. But what would they need to be in the library for anyway? The question must have been written on your face as Mr. Barnes answered it for you.

“The heat isn’t working in our offices. We’re just grading some work.”

“Right, yeah, of course. Go for it.”

“Thank you,” Andy smiled.

They took seats at the other end of the table, surely trying to avoid distracting you. You appreciated the gesture, but it was futile. As they worked on grading papers, they were talking and laughing every so often and even if they hadn’t been, their presence alone was not at all aiding you in your attempt to focus on schoolwork.

You’d given up trying to finish the passage you’d been reading and instead pretended to start making notes in your laptop. In all actuality, you were really just googling alternative career paths and the question: “Do you really need a college degree to be successful?”.

Thirty minutes later, Andy’s phone went off and he began to gather his things, telling Mr. Barnes, who he called ‘Bucky’, that he had a lecture in 45 minutes but he’d see him later.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Andy pointed at you as he passed by.

“Bright and early,” you affirmed with a nod and a small smile.

“Have a good night,” he smiled back.

“You too,” you returned.

The second he was gone, you became fully aware that you were now alone with Professor Barnes, the situation you’d been trying to avoid for the past almost three months. Despite your efforts, your entire focus was being pulled to the man just down the table from you. He was still grading, in the middle of someone’s essay as you glanced over to him. You admired the quirk of his brow as he read and how his tongue jutted out to lick his lip as his eyes scanned the words on the page. You pulled your gaze away from him and back to your laptop, deciding to close it and put it away, begrudgingly returning to your textbook. Just one more hour. You had promised yourself 2 hours of studying today minimum, you were halfway there. You could do it.

Not ten minutes later you heard the flipping of paper and glanced over to see he’d just finished the paper he was on, writing the grade on top of the first page. You looked back to your text just as he slid the paper down the table to you. You furrowed your brows as you watched it slide into your book. You saw the “C-” he had given it circled in red ink and immediately recognized the title. Your lips parted and you clicked your tongue as you looked back up to meet his eye.

“Anyone else that would’ve been a D,” he told you, sounding slightly disappointed. “Your work is normally a lot better than what you’ve been turning in lately. That’s why I asked you to come by my office hours.”

“Yeah, I- uh. I don’t know, I’ve just been having a hard time with this section,” you explained. “And I wasn’t ignoring your note, I was planning to see you on Thursday.”

“Well, we’re both here now, right?” he said and you nodded.

“Good a time as any,” you shrugged.

He got up and moved his stuff down the table to take the seat next to you. You closed your textbook and straightened up in your chair. Nerves eating at you as he sat and turned to angle himself towards you.

“My main concern isn’t really about you understanding the materials, all the concepts are there in your work, it's just..lackluster. Sloppily written, a bit jumbled here and there. Nothing like what you had been turning in at the start of the semester,” he said. “Are you sure it’s the section you’re having a hard time with?”

You looked at him for a moment, not really knowing what to say.

“What else would I be having a hard time with?” you questioned quietly.

It was his turn to look at you for a moment as he thought about how to word his response. He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it before he finally spoke.

“You’ve seemed more and more distracted during class lately. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he said sincerely, his blue eyes gleaming into yours. He was already close, but you suddenly found yourself mindlessly leaning closer to him. You took a breath as you sat back, licking your lips ever so lightly without realizing as you looked away.

“I’m okay,” you told him. “Sorry I’ve seemed distracted. Well, uhm, been distracted. I don’t know why I’ve been having such a hard time focusing on this,” you lied, “but I appreciate your concern. I’ll work on being more present. And putting more effort into my writing.”

He smiled softly and nodded before he turned back in his seat, returning to his pile of papers.

You bit your lip as you sat there. Of course you knew why you were so distracted, but you couldn’t just tell him it was because of him.

“You know there’s a study group you can sign up for,” he said as he was still looking down, reading the new paper in front of him, red pen in hand.

“Yeah, I know. I just, uh, work better in smaller groups,”

“Alone isn’t exactly a group,” he lightly smirked with a slight tilt of his head.

“I’ve never really had the best focus when it comes to studying, anything. I get off topic and then I get everyone else off topic and then we end up having spent the entire session debating something trivial, like who the best Batman is,” you said.

“Christian Bale,” he responded.

“Obviously,” you agreed with a smile. “But uhm, yeah. Less distractions the better, so I try to avoid big groups. Though I’ll admit, just trying to stay focused on my own is a feat in and of itself,” you laughed lightly.

“Sounds like you just need someone other than yourself to hold you accountable. Have you thought about one on ones? I offer tutoring sessions that no one seems to want to take me up on,” he laughed. “I have three one hour sessions all still open for tonight, actually.. Not that you need tutoring, but you could use the time to work on your assignments without distractions - and I'd be there, of course, if you need any help.”

You told yourself to say no. You really did..

“Well it couldn’t hurt, right?” you breathed, a small smile on your lips. Just then the clock chimed three, drawing both of your attention.

“I have a class in twenty, I have to get going. But I’ll be in my office from five to eight, you can come whenever. Like I said, no one else has signed up, so whenever you can make it. Hopefully the heat should be working by then.”

“Okay,” you agreed. “Thank you, Professor.”

“Please, James is more than fine,” he told you. “I’ll see you later.”

When he left, you packed up your things - letting yourself off the hook for your two hour promise. You were gonna be studying later now, anyway so it wasn’t like you just checking out for the day. Your apartment wasn’t too far from campus, so you drove home and decided you’d head back around 6.

You made yourself a late lunch/early dinner and then got your things together for when you’d leave. You figured you had time for a quick nap, so you laid down on the couch with the tv still playing in the background. After about 45 minutes, you woke up feeling more flustered than you had felt all week. You were starting to regret your quick agreement to his one on one offer, but you couldn’t just not show up now. You were getting yourself worked up over nothing, you were sure. Really what could you do that would be so bad? It’s not like you were planning on seducing the man. You’d probably just ask him to review the essay you’d been working on that would be turned in at the next class and ask for clarification on the requirements for the part of your midterm paper you’d been confused about for the past two weeks. You probably wouldn’t even stay the whole hour.

Checking the time, you decided to head back to campus. You’d get to his office a little after 5 and you’d be home by 6:30 at the latest. It’d be fine.

As you walked up to the sturdy oak door that led to his office, two cups of coffee in hand, your nerves started anew. You took a second before you knocked lightly. A few moments later, the door was pulled open as he greeted you, ushering you in.

“I got you a coffee,” you offered with a smile.

“That’s very much needed, thank you,” he smiled back, taking the drink you’d extended to him. “Please, have a seat.”

You took the only chair across from his desk as he sat.

“So, I was wondering if you’d be able to go over my essay for this week. See if it’s missing anything, or if it needs to be rewritten entirely,” you laughed nervously.

“Yeah, of course,”

“Great,” you breathed, “I just emailed you a copy.”

He pulled it open on his screen and you watched for a moment as he began reading before you pulled out your laptop to work more on your midterm. You couldn’t focus though. Not with him right across from you. The little noises he’d make as he read caught your attention repeatedly and when you’d glance up, you’d find yourself admiring the shape of his face, the quirk of his lips, the squinting of his eyes.

“The whole point of this is so that you have no distractions,” he said as he continued reading before turning to look at you. “Something distracting you?” he asked, his eyes finding your own with something akin to a playful glimmer shining in them.

You opened your mouth to speak but you just shook your head instead, taking a steadying breath.

“No,” you answered after a second. He looked at you hard.

“You sure about that?” he asked again.

“No,” you repeated softly.

“Well since you can’t seem to focus on what you’re working on, why don’t you come over here and we’ll go over this together.”

You stared at him, gawking before your body finally moved. You stood up and he did the same, pulling his chair back for you to sit in as you rounded the desk. He pushed you back in and then leaned down behind you so he was at the same height you were, looking at the screen.

You were stiff and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. He was so close. And he smelled so good. And he was so pretty. God, you didn’t know what to do. You really couldn’t focus, even as he read your words aloud and went over a line you’d blubbed.

“Are you listening to me?” he asked, standing to his full height as he spun the chair around, looking down at you. Your eyes immediately landed on his crotch before you quickly looked away, trying to not look so flustered.

“Sorry,” you eked out.

“It’s obvious you have something on your mind. You’re clearly distracted,” he said, finding your eye. “I think you just need to clear your head to find your focus.”

“Right, well, I don’t really know how to do that,” you breathed.

“Why don’t you let me try to help,” he returned softly as he leaned down and grabbed your chin, tilting your face up to meet his as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours.

You were definitely not expecting this to happen, but you weren’t upset in the least. His lips were soft and he tasted like coffee. Your hand found his hair as you pulled him closer to you, the gentle kiss turning into something hungrier the longer it went on. He pulled away suddenly and pulled you out of his chair before taking his seat and pulling you down onto his lap just as quickly, his lips returning to yours the instant he had you on him. Your arm wound itself around his neck as your other cupped his jaw, keeping his face close to you as he held you close to him.

Slowly, his hand traveled under your sweater and along your waist, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. He easily slipped his tongue into your mouth, eliciting a moan from you as he did. You felt his erection growing as you sat on his lap, smiling into the kiss as you teasingly rubbed against him, earning a groan from him in response. He broke away from you for a moment as you both caught your breath, “Tell me if you want to stop,” was all he said before he maneuvered you with ease. He sat you on the edge of his desk while he took your boots off before he pulled your leggings down your thick thighs, his touch sending chills through you as he did.

He made quick work of his trousers, pulling them down before he took himself out of his briefs. He sat back down on his chair as he looked at you with lust filled eyes. “Stand up,” he told you. When you were standing before him, he pulled you close by your wide set hips before his fingers hooked the band of your thong, dragging it down until they were past your thighs and dropped to your ankles. “Step out of them, sweetheart.”

You did as he said before he pulled you closer and got you onto the chair, positioning you so you straddled his lap, barely hovering above his hard cock. You were breathing heavily as your hands grasped his shoulders and his hands held your fleshy hips. He looked up at you like he was waiting for your permission and so you nodded softly down at him. He gripped himself with one hand and moved the tip of his cock along your wet slit, you gasped in unison at the feeling. He took his time and just played with you a bit until you were moaning, whining above him. Your eyes squeezed shut as he circled your clit before he moved to finally align his cock up to your slick entrance. He pushed his tip just inside of you and groaned at the sensation, his hands returning to your hips as he gripped you tightly, holding you there despite you wanting desperately to take more of him.

“James,” you whined. He shook his head.

“Call me Bucky,” he instructed headily.

“Bucky,” you whined further, trying to lower yourself further onto his cock.

“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he laughed. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm,” you moaned as he took your lips in his again.

“You want more? Want more of my dick inside you?”

“Yes, yes, Bucky, please,” you mewled.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna give it to you,” he said, kissing you along your neck, “but then you’re gonna focus on your work, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed without really hearing him. You just needed more, you needed all of him.

He pulled you down further onto his cock torturously slowly as you gasped and mewled until he was seated fully inside of you.

“Fuck,” he grunted, eyes shutting in pleasure at the feeling of your tight walls squeezing him, at the warmth of your cunt around him.

You tried to move, but were stopped again by his hands holding you in place. He tutted as he looked at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

“What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart? We just agreed you’re gonna focus on your work now,”

“Huh? Right, right now?” you huffed.

“Right now,” he told you firmly.

You pouted as you leaned against his chest, your face pressing into his neck, even just that movement sparking pleasure through you.

“No pouting,” he laughed against your temple. You turned your face up to him, pout still in place before you leaned up further to kiss him again. Slow and heated, he got lost in your kiss. He almost didn’t stop you when you started rocking your hips against him. Almost.

You whined again as he held you still. His strength was impressive, you had to admit.

“Stop. Moving,” he growled, sending a new wave of arousal through you. “You’re gonna sit right here on my cock while we go over your essay and if you do a good job listening to me and stay focused, I’ll give you what you really want after. Understand?”

“Yes, professor,” you said quietly.

“Good,” he smiled, caressing your cheek as he looked down at you.

It was thirty five minutes of pure torture. He read a loud your entire essay and had you make corrections as he went, the entire time you could feel his thick cock throbbing inside your dripping cunt, just begging for any kind of movement. Near the end of your essay corrections, his hand dropped from your hip until he found your clit, slowly beginning to rub it in tight circles. You mewled pathetically and your walls tightened around his dick still deep inside of you while his lips attacked your neck with gentle kisses and love bites.

“You did so well, sweetheart,” he praised. “You took this from a C to an A with just thirty minutes of actual focus. All you had to do was face your distractions head on, find the right motivation,” he smirked against your skin.

“So we’re done with the editing then, right?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he hummed against you.

“Great,” you breathed as he brought you closer with his every touch.

“Fuck, you’re squezzing me so tight,” he groaned.

“I’m gonna come,” you mewled, breathing heavier still as his left hand tightened on your hip and his fingers worked your bud faster, sending you head first into your orgasm, his name falling off your tongue as you cursed and panted through your high, collapsing onto his chest.

“Oh my god,” he whined with a small gasp, his eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, can I come inside you?” he asked. You nodded your answer as you were still trying to catch your breath. He grabbed your face and crashed his lips into yours, hot and needy, while you felt him tense suddenly as his cock pulsed inside you and he moaned deeply into your mouth as he let himself go, you could feel the warmth of his release against your walls.

The evidence of your orgasm was all over his lap, coating his dick as he pulled you off of him.

“Holy fuck,” he panted. You didn’t think it was possible, but you felt yourself heat up even more than you already had been. “Hand me a tissue,” he said pointing to the box he had on the corner of his desk.

He cleaned himself up quickly before he pulled his briefs and trousers back up. He had you again on the edge of his desk as he bent down to clean you up, too, admiring the way his cum was leaking out of you before he grabbed your leggings from the floor, handing them to you. He pocketed your thong before he stood back up to his full height, towering over you.

“That was nice,” he laughed softly as he leaned down closer to you, his right hand framing your face, tilting it up to meet his eye, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin of your cheek before he leaned in to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

You smiled in response. “Yeah, it was,” you agreed.

“I hope you don’t find this inappropriate, but I’ve wanted you since the day we met.”

“The feeling is more than mutual,” you assured him. “But uhm. Is this..,” you gestured between the two of you, “allowed?” you questioned as you hopped off his desk to pull your leggings on.

“Well, it’s certainly not encouraged, but there’s nothing in my contract that explicitly prohibits it. I made sure a few months ago,” he said, eyeing you with a shy smile as if he hadn’t just come inside you after making you cockwarm him for nearly 45 minutes. It made you laugh. “I would prefer to keep this between us for as long as we can, though,” he hedged.

“Yeah, I completely agree. Don’t need these kids gossiping about me, too.”

“They do love to talk, don’t they?” he grimaced, causing you to smile at him.

“I’m sure we can keep this under wraps,” you said as you pulled your boots back on. “And I’d like to sign up for next week's one on one sessions, too, if you're available.”

“I’ll be sure to block it out for you,” he grinned.

“Might as well make it a standing weekly appointment,” you suggested as you walked back over to him from where he was perched on his desk.

“Sounds like a good idea,” he responded as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer while you stared up at him, your arms wrapping around him in return. “Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Dinner?” you questioned, pulling back slightly. “That doesn’t sound very underwraps,” you teased.

“A private dinner. At a private residence. My residence,” he clarified with a smirk.

“I’m free,” you nodded as you backed away and went to the other side of the desk as he turned around to watch you.

“Great, I’ll message you the address.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for it,” you said as you grabbed your bag and slipped your laptop back inside of it. “I should get going, but, thank you. For everything,” you simpered. “I really appreciate your help.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. My door’s always open. I’ll see you tomorrow,”

“Tomorrow it is,” you nodded in agreement as you walked to the door. But before you could open it, Bucky was behind you, turning you around to face him. His lips met yours in a soft, unrushed kiss before he pulled away slowly, opening the door for you.

“Have a good night,” you breathed.

“You, too,” he smiled.

Three weeks later you had a routine set in place. Nothing changed much in class, except you found yourself paying more close attention to the material now that you weren’t so hopelessly longing for your professor. Wednesday’s were your one on one sessions in Bucky’s office and Friday nights had been spent at his place. This last week, you’d even stayed the three day weekend with him. You knew you weren’t crazy when you had thought there was something real between the two of you when you had first met, but you didn’t expect to have clicked so well the way you had. Your chemistry was unbelievable and you got on so well together. Plus the sex was incredible.

Fucking in his office was so cliche, but that didn’t make it any less hot. In fact, it was really the only place you called him “Professor” these days. The title just made things that much sexier. It was Wednesday afternoon and you’d just gotten out of your last class for the day. You were going to head to Bucky’s office in a few hours, planning to go to your apartment to freshen up before picking up some food for you both on your way back.

You’d just finished changing into more…accessible clothes when your phone rang. It was a text from Bucky letting you know that the heat in his office wasn’t working again, so you’d have to meet in the library instead as they’d be working on the unit in his room. You frowned slightly, accepting that you’d changed for nothing, but at least the skirt was still comfortable. You texted back asking if you should still bring food and he promised he’d take you somewhere after instead. Apparently only two of his students in his 3:20 class showed up, so he dismissed them for the day. He was already on his way to the library, so you grabbed your things and headed back to campus.

You walked around the library looking for him with no luck before you decided to walk up to the second level, which was technically closed off for some construction work, in order to get a better view. You spotted him easily in the far back section of the lower level as you stood at the railing of the second floor. He was sipping on a cup of coffee and you smiled as you spied a cup of tea waiting for you next to his satchel on the table while he read over some work.

You walked back down to the first floor and made your way to him.

“Professor,” you greeted as you knocked on the bookcase blocking the table he was at from an easy view. He greeted you in return as he looked up from his work, a smile on his face. His eyes caught on the low v-neck of the top you were wearing, your cleavage on perfect display. His tongue jutted out along his lower lip as he admired the view. You cleared your throat as you looked at him with a raised brow.

He looked back up to your eyes, smiling charmingly as if he hadn’t just been caught leering at you so openly.

“I’m here to study, not be perved on,” you accused.

“You know you need to clear your mind to get your focus, first. And you know what helps clear your mind best,” he alluded.

“You know we’re in public, right?” you asked, voice hushed as you walked closer to the table.

“It’s a Wednesday, no one’s gonna come back here,” he said smoothly. “We’re hidden from sight.”

“Not true,” you denied. “I saw you from the second level,” you informed him.

“Was anyone up there?” he asked.

“No..”

“Didn’t think so,” he said smugly.

“There’s not right now. Anyone could come in at any time. It’s the middle of the day.”

“You’re right,” he aquesqued, hands up. “All work, no play today. I got you a tea,” he offered.

“Thank you,” you smiled as you took the seat across from him.

“Wow, why are you sitting so far?”

“Where do you want me to sit?” you laughed.

“Preferably, my lap,” he started, earning a humored scoff from you. “But right here would be good, too,” he said, gesturing to the seat next to him.

You got up and moved spots, getting comfortable before you pulled up your essay on your laptop.

“Still going through midterms?” you asked as you looked over to him making marks on the paper he was reading.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Have you gotten to mine yet?”

“Not yet,” he said absently.

You nodded as you took a sip of your tea. You looked back to your essay and found yourself trailing off. It was pretty much finished, just needed to be read through again for any edits you needed to make. It wasn’t enough to keep your attention. Too easy. You could do it later no problem.

Instead you took out your text for Andy’s class and started reading next week’s assignment. You didn’t have much else to do. Funnily enough, you’d been getting most of your work done earlier than normal so you’d have less to actually do on Wednesdays, instead spending your “study” time focusing on other things…

You weren’t paying attention to anything, lost in perverted thoughts of last week when Bucky had fucked you agaisnt the wall in his office, while twirling your pen as you stared down blankly at the words on the page, not reading them at all. Pulling you from your perversions, suddenly you felt Bucky’s hand smooth its way under your skirt and up your thigh. His hand was so warm and strong as he touched you, sending chills through you as he scooted his chair closer to yours. You didn’t stop him and absentmindedly spread your thighs for him as he inched his way closer and closer to your inner thighs before his fingers made their way between them, gently rubbing at your warm, barely clothed pussy.

You came back to earth as you remembered where you were and reached your hand under the table to hold his, stopping his movements.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing, professor?” you breathed.

“Helping,” he responded. “What did I say about distractions, sweetheart?”

“Who says I’m distracted,” you whispered as you heard chatter coming from the other side of the bookcase before it passed as some students made their way to the front desk from the back office you weren’t too far off from.

“You have that far off look in your eyes,” he spoke quietly, “and I saw you squeezing your thighs together not ten seconds ago.” You exhaled a breath so softly you barely even heard yourself.

“Maybe we can end this session early and call it a day?” you asked, wanting to get out of the library and meet him back at your place, or hell, meet him at his car and let him take you apart in the faculty parking lot.

“No, I don’t think so. We both have some work left to do.”

“Bucky,” you whispered.

“No calling me Bucky outside my office while we’re on campus,” he reminded you. “You know better.”

You bit your lip before whispering sorry.

“You just need to face your distractions so you can get past them,” he said. “Let me help.”

You let go of his hand beneath the table and spread your thighs a little wider.

You almost stopped breathing completely when he slipped his fingers past your panties and gently pushed inside of you as one of the librarians passed by the aisle over. She peered behind the bookcase that was shielding you from the side to see who was at the tables and greeted both of you quietly before she returned to the aisle and reshelved some books. Bucky’s fingers didn’t stop for even a second as he returned her greeting and went back to grading.

The second you knew she was gone you panted a breath. “James,” you chastised as you sat in your seat still, making no attempt to actually stop him.

“More?” he questioned without looking up from his work, only speeding up his fingering, curling them inside of you. You bit down harshly on your lip to stop yourself from moaning out loud, your thighs tensing with the impending wave of pleasure you were teetering on before he slipped his fingers out of you, a school boy smirk playing on his lips.

You exhlaed heavily and shakily before looking over to him, shocked. He finally looked back at you, still smirking.

“I wanna try something. If you want me to stop, tell me,” he said as he removed his hand from your thigh and stood up abruptly. You could see the outline of his erection through his trousers and found yourself getting more aroused. You didn’t know what he wanted to do, but assumed it'd be something at least a little discret. Along the lines of putting you in his lap again, or even just having you get him off. So when he pulled you up and spun you around, pushing you down against the table, you were surprised to say the least. You heard him unzip his pants as he pulled himself free and then pulled your panties down your thighs. You couldn’t even think as he prodded you with his cock, and gasped loudly when he finally pushed into you. His hand was on your mouth in an instant as he leaned over your back, his mouth next to your ear as he spoke. “Gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he panted. “You don’t want anyone to see us back here, do you?”

Your gurgled moan was his response as he began fucking into you, keeping your chest firmly againt the sturdy table, one hand on your mouth and one holding your wrists behind your back. You were panting as quietly as you could as he slid in and out of you, getting deeper with each thrust. He took his hand away from your mouth after a moment and gripped your hip to keep you a little more steady, trying to keep your hips from slamming so hard into the wood. The salacious sounds of his pelvis slapping against your ass with his thrusts were only making you more slick as he moved his hand from your wrists to keep your skirt pushed up as he fucked you from behind.

It was taking all of your willpower to keep quiet, your mouth open in silent moans as you tried to keep yourself breathing. His thrusts were getting more powerful the longer he went. Each time you heard people passing by, your cunt gripped his cock even tighter at the thrill of the proximity, and Bucky didn’t miss it.

“Who knew you were so fucking kinky,” he panted into your ear. “You like getting fucked in public, huh? Like the idea of anyone walking by and seeing you get fucked out of your mind? Seeing you getting claimed by me,” he husked.

You mewled as quietly as you could and nodded your head in affirmation. “I like it,” you whispered pathetically.

“I know you do,” he laughed before fucking into you deeper, making sure you felt every inch of his thick cock gliding against your velvety walls, squeezing him tightly.

“Professor, please,” you pleaded quietly.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he grunted as he gripped your hip harder still, pulling your ass flush against him before he began rutting into you desperately. He leaned his weight onto you as he kept you pushed down, flush against the table. His hand left your skirt and found your clit, adding to the growing pressure building in your abdomen as he rubbed you, fucking you and stimulating all the most sensitive spots along your walls. Before you knew you were, you came completely undone, the familiar white hot pleasure induced euphoria spreading through you as you came around him, squeezing him like you never wanted him to leave you empty again. And truth be told, you didn’t. You’d never felt so fulfilled or satisfied in your life.

He could barely move as you came around him, but after a few more thrusts, he shot his load inside of you, cursing under his breath as he came, panting. After a moment, he pulled out gently and slid your panties back up for you, pushing your skirt down before he fixed himself. You were still reeling from the intensity of it all when you stood, a little wobbly, from the table.

Cute planned ending:

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you breathed, turning around to face Bucky. “We really just did that,” you said, still in shock at yourself while Bucky grinned proudly before looking around a bit, just making sure you were still alone. He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you close, leaning down to kiss you deeply, letting you go for a second before kissing you harder again.

“We did. And now,” he said, ushering you back to your seat, urging you to sit down, “you're gonna finish editing your paper while I grade a few more of these midterms, no distractions.”

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered as you looked up at him still standing while you were seated once again. “I’m the one sitting here with come leaking out of me,” you complained.

“Is it that distracting for you, sweetheart?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Yes,” you responded.

“No problem. I can help with that, too,” he smirked as he got down on his knees, crawling under the table to kneel at your feet as your eyes went wide while you watched him. He pulled you to the edge of the chair before he slipped your panties off completely. “That essay better be ready to turn in by the time I get back up, do you understand?” he warned. You could feel his breath against your folds as he got closer.

“Yes, professor,” you mewled pathetically as you spread your thighs even wider for him.

Alternative kind of darkish ending:

You felt eyes on you as you turned around, but it wasn’t Bucky. You looked up to the second floor and could have sworn you saw Andy passing by, worry flooding through you instantly. You weren’t sure, though. Maybe he was really just walking by and hadn’t seen anything. Maybe it was no one at all and you were just imagining things. You almost didn’t even want to say anything about it, just act like you hadn’t seen, or thought you saw, anyone at all.

Until Andy came knocking on the bookcase, from the opposite direction, startling you as you gasped and spun around, hands flying to make sure your skirt was smoothed down completely, unconscious backing toward where Bucky was. Andy looked between you both for a second before he spoke, a knowing, devilish smirk growing on his face as he looked at you in a way you’d never seen him look at anyone before. Lewdly, leering, lustful, even.

“What’s goin’ on down here?”

You looked back at Bucky, hoping to find some kind of reassurance or protection, but he was completely unphased at the presence of his friend.

“You enjoy the show?” he asked, unamused.

“I think I could put on better,” he shrugged, eyes still locked on you, even as Bucky pulled you into his side.

“What do you think, sweetheart? Wanna let him try?”

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

ok i know you haven’t written possessive price yet and i genuinely can’t remember what i wrote in the ask and i feel like i’m gonna write the same thing but the roles are switched but idc…but imagine possessive sunshine!reader…like price is a good looking dude and imagine he gets hit on at marissa’s bar IN FRONT OF THE READER AND/OR MARISSA and price is doing his best at trying to get the last away from him but she just won’t fuck off

Soulmate Sour

Summary; When someone flirts with Price you take it into your own hands to let them know he's off the market.

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot 

Word; 3.2k

Warnings; alcohol consumption (drink in moderation), possessiveness, hints at suggestive themes

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing​

A/N: so I adjusted this just slightly but the main parts are still there, hope you enjoy nonnie<3

You chat with Johnny, his left arm slung behind Marissa on the couch's backrest. Meanwhile, your friend is talking to Kyle. For once, you aren't at the Pearl. Marissa decided to close her place earlier for your group to enjoy a night out where she could join in. Perks of being the owner and controlling closing times, as she said.

It's still early for a Friday, only 9 p.m. There were two more hours before the pub you'd find your way to closed.

It was a much more traditional place than Marissa's. Dark, gloomy, food-to-the-drinks kind of place that half of the population would stop by on their way home from work. And your company wasn't entirely different.

Tonight wasn't a return-from-deployment night. It was a simple get-together after work that John asked if you wanted to tag along to, Johnny having done the same to Marissa. Despite having planned a girl's dinner, the boys had been scattered for a few weeks, most of them back on active duty like John, and tonight was the first time most found their way back to town from wherever so the get-together had been something you couldn't pass up on. 

However, rather than fixing yourself to the somewhat special evening when John had knocked on your door, you'd greeted him with your computer in hand and a brief wave. A meeting with one of your clients ran longer than anticipated.

In the end, Joh waited 40 minutes for you to finish, giving you no time to change out of your work attire if the two of you didn't want to run unfashionably late.

You'd managed to reach the pub just as the others arrived. It was lucky you'd chosen a place that served food, seeing how your last meal had been lunch. Which, at the time, had been over six hours ago.

Your stomach had rumbled enough for Marissa to dig her finger into your side, asking if 'the workaholic cares for herself' in that partly teasing, partly serious tone. However, with everyone's plate of favoured dinner polished clean of food soon after finding a table -aside from Ghost who, when you asked, said 'don't fancy eating around other people, so ate earlier'- the soft feeling of fullness had eased your stomach.

Not soon after the dinner, and before the plates got cleared from the table, John had patted your thigh.

You'd been in the midst of your conversation with Johnny as you momentarily had turned to face the one seeking your attention. 

'Gonna get somethin' to drink. You want anythin'?' John had asked once you turned to face him. 'Same old', you'd answered and he'd only nodded, squeezing your thigh before he slid out of the curved booth.

What brought you out of the thought 'he's been gone for a while now' was when the Scotsman trailed off in his sentence, his eyes perched over your shoulder rather than face, remaining pinned to something behind you. 

Your brows knitted together, head cocking slightly at his sudden shift of attention. The minimal reaction to his strayed conversation was enough to make the Scotsman's face you again.

Something new had entered his eyes and you gave him a questioning look.

"Hate to say it to ye, lass, but old Price seems popular". Johnny nodded forward, motioning to whatever he spotted earlier.

Just as you shift to follow his gaze, a second voice momentarily stops your movement.

"Don't go rippin' a head". Your eyes flicker to Ghost sitting across from you. The man had apparently also noticed whatever Johnny motioned towards as his brown eyes shifted to you.

You only smiled back. "Don't worry".

Ghost only shrugs, eyes falling back to what he'd watched earlier and you finally turn towards whatever both men now observed.

It's easy to find John. His stature is not hard to miss. 

He's standing by the bar, presumably having ordered the drinks he set out to do for you two. But, rather than staring at his broad back as he leans against the bar leisurely, waiting for the drinks to be served. John's standing straight, one hand resting on the bar, the other shoved in his pocket. His posture is tense enough that you note it across the room and if you would've been closer, you probably would've seen his jaw work too, as it often does when he's on edge.

The reason? A woman. She's talking to him, flirting with him.

You see it all the way from here despite not hearing a word she says, her body language screaming her intentions. She's smiling, head cocked to the side, her hand resting on the bar not far from John's. She isn't touching him. Still, she's standing close, closer than what's generally considered talking distance for strangers. Her upper body is leaning towards him, breaking John's personal bubble.

Your brows rise at the scene, your body turning towards the pair. Maybe Ghost was right with his comment as a sudden sour feeling fills your mouth. Despite this, you bite your tongue, remaining put as you watch the scene closely.

It doesn't take long, not even two minutes, before you spot what you only had a hunch would happen.

At something the woman says, John's head and upper body instinctively lean away from her before the rest of his body follows. He rolls his shoulder as he turns, his side facing her while replying. All the while, he attempts to step around the stool that previously prevented any smooth exit of putting distance between himself and his forced company. 

The move signalled two things. John didn't try to hide that he didn't enjoy the woman's presence anymore and wanted to end the primarily one-sided conversation. And, he needed help, not because you doubted him but because the woman followed his step with one of her own.

You scoffed. Apparently, the woman was fucking blind if she didn't understand the signal.

"I'll be back", you said to Johnny and Ghost, both having turned to look at you upon what transpired. You slide from the booth, rising to your feet once at the edge.

"Go get her, lass". There was a big grin on the Scot's face, but you ignored it as you started walking towards the bar.

"Don't do anythin' I would". You hear the Englishman warn from behind, to which you raise a few fingers in recognition and a departing gesture.

As you weave between tables and occupied chairs, your eyes never leave John and the woman. She sweeps her dark hair over her shoulder, showing off more of the plunging neckline meant to draw eyes. You almost laugh when she frowns upon noticing it didn't have the desired effect, but you catch yourself in the last second.

Slowing your step, you switch to look at John. His exasperation with the situation is humouring enough that the gentle smile you let spread isn't forced.

"Hi, how's the drinks going?" John's head snaps ironically fast towards you, his body swivelling to face you rather than the bar. In the corner of your eye, you note how the woman's attention switch to you. 

When you get closer, John pulls his hand out of his pocket and raises his arm, letting you sidle up to him. His hand lands upon your shoulder, making the two of you shift together when he turns to look down the bar. In the new position, you naturally face the woman, but at the moment, you don't look at her, focusing on John as his eyes drop back to you as he speaks.

"Soon done, love", he mutters. His voice is strained, annoyed. You don't need to guess because of what, or rather, who.

You circle your left arm around his waist, finally looking forwards, feigning realisation when you meet the woman's gaze.

"Oh, hello", you greet her with raised brows, catching the sour expression twisting her features for a split second. "Are you an acquaintance of John?"

You motion between the woman and the man at your side, pointing out their closer-than-strangers proximity. Upon the question, the dark-haired woman steps backwards to not stand as close to you.

"You're his girl". Your head cocks at the short remark and complete disregard of your greeting. 

Satisfaction spreads through you at her response, but you only let the gentle smile continue to play on your lips. "I am, and you are?"

"Kathleen", she puffed out her chest, chin jutting upwards, eyes straying towards John before shifting back to you.

"Pleasure", you return with a nod just as the bartender puts your drinks on the counter. "But, if you excuse us, our company is waiting". Your eyes stray to the glasses to push your point.

"I was talking to John when you interrupted". His name is purred from her lips as if knowing it meant everything to her and should bother you. You look back at her with creased brows, a questioning look directed towards her. She must have taken it for displeasure rather than astonishment at what she thought she was attempting, as a smug smile spread on her lips. "And he never mentioned you". 

Instantly, John tenses beneath your touch while his arm tightens around your shoulders. This time, you scoff. Did she really think that implied he was... what? Open to cheating because of that? 

Your reaction makes John's head tilt downwards. You know he wants you to look up at him from how intently he's looking at you, but you don't face him, instead staring straight back at the woman.

"And yet, you don't assume I'm anything else than his girl when I join him? If you didn't already have a hunch, why didn't you just suppose I'm his thing?" You question with a smile. Her mouth opens and closes, caught off guard by your reaction to what evidently was an attempt at winding you up. Clearly, she didn't get the response she desired.

She sneers. "Well, maybe you are because he didn't object to it". She makes a sharp motion with her hand towards John to defend whatever her definition of it implied.

You can feel how he heats up at your side, his already warm body boiling from how she addressed you and what you know is a false statement. You'd seen it yourself. That's why you can't help but chuckle, stepping away from John towards the bar. 

His arms remain around you for as long as possible until he begrudgingly lets it fall. When John doesn't touch you any longer, the air shifts violently. Tension immediately bleeds into the air.

"Be my guest then", you nod towards John as you grab your drinks, catching how not only the women's eyes widen at what you said. "If you want to get turned down a second or even third time, that is. Because from what I saw, my man isn't interested in you and tried to respectfully show that without dropping my name. Which should be enough anyways, don't you think?" You continue as you turn to face her.

The same smile you'd carried the entire conversation now flashed brighter towards the dark-haired woman, who sputters in bewilderment. Satisfied with her stunned expression and being tongue-tied, you turn towards John, whose eyes apparently never left you. 

"You ready?" His blues shift so violently that it feels like they go from black to white when you offer him his beer. He takes his drink from your offered hand with his right one only to intertwine the fingers of his left with it instead. You take the hint. "Have a good evening, Kathleen". You bid her goodbye without turning to face her, missing how the perplexed woman follows the two of you, stunned when John tags along with an ease she'd found impossible to evoke.

As your back is turned to the woman, you finally spit at her in your mind. Fucking bitch.

You hadn't noticed, but you took your first deep breath in a long time when taking a similar route back to the others as you had previously done to the bar. That was until there was a tug at your hand. 

You slow, twisting your head to look over your shoulder at John, only for him to twirl you around and into his chest before you manage. Some of your drink spill over your fingers, but you don't care about it the second his handsome smile and blue eyes greet you.

"Do you know how much more attractive you just got?" None of the previous tension lace his voice, only a lilt that reflects his lightened expression.

"What?" You ask, a bit dumbfounded, still mentally cursing the woman for how shitty she'd acted. Women empowering women, they say. Not those types of women.

John's eyes flicker over your face before settling to meet your gaze with a smirk. "Haven't seen you this possessive before". Your mouth drops open before you bite your lower one as it curls inwards.

"Don't like someone trying things on you", you mumble, shrugging as you continue. "Especially when they don't show some respect". 

Your eyes widen when you suddenly feel John duck, attaching his mouth to yours. Though he catches you off-guard, you fall into the kiss soon enough, his big hand releasing yours to tilt your face. 

He's warm, overwhelmingly passing the sensation into your body. You feel the last bit of resentment towards the woman leave you as John forces her out of your mind, replacing the mental place she'd occupied with himself.

The bristle of his beard brushing your lower face contrasts with how he gently cups your cheek. His beard oil and cologne fill your nostrils in a blend of something nutty and musky. 

You're putty in his grasp and can't help the silly smile spreading when he nipps your lower lip when pulling back.

"Appreciate it, love", John chuckles, gazing at you with an upwards curve of his mouth. "And the confidence suits you", he adds.

"Need to have some when dating your handsome face". You tap his bearded cheek with your index finger with a cocked head and smile.

"This handsome face only has eyes for one woman". You dip your head with a shake, momentarily needing to escape his intense eyes as his hand falls to the small of your back. His fingers teasingly press into the area. 

"Let's go back to the others". You nod backwards when you raise your head again. John agrees with a nod and a final peck before he guides you towards your table.

"Putting on a show, are you Price?" Kyle greets you with a smug look as you come closer. John only shrugs in return, not bashful about the action but not keen on discussing it. Everyone watches you as you retake your place, sliding into the booth first. John follows soon after, seating himself close enough that his side presses against yours. 

Marissa leans forward, her forearms crossed upon the table. She sends you an amused and knowing look, one you roll your eyes at, understanding the whole table must have followed the spectacle.

Like the smile your friend flashes, Johnny harbours a similar grin as when you'd left. 

"About time ya get someone who acts as yer saviour, Captain". The Scotsman remarks while he nudges his shoulder with yours, giving you a playful wink. This time, John huffs amusedly and you presume it's an inside joke as you catch the low chuckle escaping Ghost and Kyle. 

The comment swung them into a new conversation with countless ribbings. You can't help but shake your head at their antics as you listen to their chatter with your glass in hand. 

Sipping your drink, you melt into the seat, head resting against the shoulder of John's non-dominant side.

It had been a long and, by your standard, stressful day. It had taken a toll on you mentally more than physically. The only downside with not having an ordinary one-to-five, in your opinion. John asking you to tag along to this outing was just what you needed at the end of the day to be able to wind down, aside from one inconvenience.

The timing couldn't be any better as you suddenly feel someone staring. Your eyes sweep over the other occupants of the table before travelling further. You don't need to look for long until you find the source. 

The same woman from earlier sits by the bar, your eyes locking when your attention falls upon her. You raise your brows, huffing more out of pity than annoyance as you take another sip of your drink. 

Holding her stare, you don't hesitate to shift in your seat and cross your leg over your own and John's. You sit slanted towards him now, your leg resting comfortably over his thigh, dangling between his legs.

His response is immediate, his body aligning more towards you as he settles his left hand just above your knee. 

"You get awfully touchy when tryin' to make a point to someone". John whispers as he ducks his head, breath skimming the shell of your ear.

You smile against the rim of your glass, noticing how the woman's face scrunches upon noting your intimate proximity. The reaction is enough to spot from your position. "How'd you know?"

"I'm a soldier. I'm trained to always be attentive to my surroundings", he hums in response, still keeping his head low enough so only you catch his words. "Likewise, to read someone's intentions. Gotten good enough to rival your skill when it comes to you". He humours you with a low chuckle. The rough sound sends a shiver down your spine as your eyes drop to his thumb, which begins a circling motion on your leg. 

Your head tilts upwards, John accommodating by angling his head to catch what you say. "Well, good job, Captain". Your eyes momentarily lock with the women once more as John leans away, shielding your view as he stiffens upon hearing his rank being purred against the shell of his ear. But, you catch the reaction you wanted always, the woman promptly turning away.

Your eyes now meet gaze back at those blues focusing on you keenly.

Yes, John had gotten to know you quite a bit, your ticks and tells. But he indulged you in just as much.

You give him a coy smile and fall back slightly, resting your back against the couch again as you return his gaze.

John levels you with a firm look, hiking your leg slightly higher on his leg, signalling if you continue, this evening will definitely be cut short.

You only smile sweetly at him before you turn your upper body away, engaging yourself in the conversation with the rest. Upon catching his muted sigh, you sip your drink to stop yourself from grinning.

[igotanidea]

Alternate: Jason todd x fem!reader

summary: I love you in every multiverse.

***

“I wish I've met you earlier…..”

She frowned.

As sweet as that sentence sounded, she could tell there was a hidden meaning to it. Something indefinable, not conveyable with words. Something only someone close to Jason would recognize.

It was a Saturday morning after a intense Friday night.  There was no obligation to go anywhere, to do anything, to rush through the task list and Jason and Y/N were laying in bed, tangled in the sheets, their bodies so close together and yet not close enough, simply enjoying each other’s presence and warmth coming from the intimacy. The sounds of rain drops thumping out on the window sill added to the atmosphere of the incoming lazy day as Y/N snuggled closer to Jason, making sure he wouldn’t run away from her.   

He was still learning how to be calm and at peace like this.

Barely a second ago, her head was laying on his chest, her fingers tracing patterns on his skin, softly, slowly in the most loving and caring gesture she could produce, almost as if she was trying to tell him to stay, without using her voice. One of his arms were wrapped around her waist, caressing the small of her back making her hum softly in contentment, the other tangled in her hair.

It was so perfect.  

And then he said those six words.

“Jay?” she asked a bit confused why he came up with something like that out of the blue. “Is everything ok, baby?” Y/N raised her head wriggling out of his embrace, searching for his eyes, her voice and gaze concerned at the sudden confession.

He knew better than to look at her, instead keeping his eyes focused on the ceiling, hands behind his head now, still laying on his back on the bed, not budging even a little. He knew that the second their gazes met he would break. And he hated being vulnerable.

Yes, he loved her.

Yes, he felt safe with his emotions while being with her.

Yes, he trusted her.

But.

He was an emotional one and pouring his heart out to someone, anyone was still hard.

So he stayed silent, afraid of as much as the possibility of being too much.

“Jason.” She said, her voice more serious now, but he was deaf to her calling. “Jason!”

“Yes, princess?” he asked casually

“Come on! You can’t just drop a sentence like that and go silent on me….”she cooed cupping his face and forcing him to look at her. “baby…..” she caressed his cheek and leaned forwards brush her nose over his. “talk to me, please…..”

“It’s nothing.”

She sighed. God, he could be so stubborn at times.

“Jace…. I love you…. It doesn’t matter that we haven’t met ten years later. Or five…. You hear me? it doesn’t matter…. I love you…. You have all of my affection now and….”

“I could have loved you for so much longer…..” he whispered chiming in and closing his eyes.

“What…..?” her heart hammered in her chest, the slightest blush creeping on her face. Out of every romantic and sweet things he ever said, out of all the poems and sentences he quoted to her this little one might have been the most intimate one. It was a suggestion that what they had was something more than a fling. And even though she knew that, hearing something like that coming from him brought tears of happiness into her eyes.

“Y/N? Oh God…. I’m so sorry, baby….” He changed position, sitting up to hug her to his chest immediately “I’m so sorry, please don’t cry, I didn’t mean to hurt you…..” he started babbling kissing the top of her head repeatedly, holding her tighter. “I just wish I knew you before so I could save you from all the things that happened in your past….  Self doubts, pain, hurt, fear…. I wish I could have been your shield, protecting you from any harm…..You didn’t deserve a single trauma that happened in your life…. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there baby….”

“You know….” she pulled back slightly “all those details you mentioned… all that trauma… it led me to you…. It led me to the only person I know my heart is safe with….. It’s like I loved you before even knowing you….? Does that make sense?

“It does to me.” He smiled softly, wiping her tears “cause I think I feel the same. Hey, I am not good with all that space and time concepts, but do you think we might have met before?”

“Are you asking me if I believe in reincarnation of souls?”

“Do you?”

“Not until now…..” she whispered “I know it may sound stupid, but ….. do you think there is a alternate reality, somewhere, where we haven’t met? Cause I don’t think I could ever be without you…..”

“Baby…..” he smiled brushing hair out of her forehead and kissing her temple, pulling her closer to him, rocking gently back and forth. “Such verse is pretty much impossible.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you in every multiverse…..” he smiles leaning his forehead on her.

And it was perfect.......