#if you felt something listening to it then great. that is literally the only requirement needed. you dont need the artist's social security
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Satan & Violins
I share a lot of similarities with Satan, even when before they canonized something about him; one of them being violinist!Satan😭 In spite of me having a mini identity crisis following the drop of his canon violinist card, i think it makes sense! heres why.
Disclaimer!
1. I have not picked up an instrument in years
2. This is purely bcuz my brain is so busy thinking abt Satan so its kinda rambly. . Pls bare w me T_T
3. THIS IS LONG IM SO SORRY
4. Not too used to tumblr writing just yet sorry if it's messy
(Uploaded on my twitter aswell :D)
The violin and its family, unlike other string instruments (ex. the guitar), doesnt have these little things (that i forgor the name of because im a bad musician) that separates every note. those little separating thingies are the reason why people who dont know shit about playing a key on guitar but memorize musical scales (me) is at least able to strum a simple one octave melody.
Obviously, the two come in with their one difficulty (i prefer the violin myself), but it's a little bit harder to pull that trick with the violin. As you can see, theres not exactly something to tell you where each note begins or where they end. Nothing to determine where is where. You simply have to memorize the placement and the distance between each note. You basically play the violin with Your Gut (1). We'll keep this in mind for now.
Moving on, let's talk about body posture.
Beginner violinist usually directlty face towards the strings when playing, as they aren't used to letting their 'gut' lead the show. However, more experienced players would find no need to do so. A quick glance at Satan's art could tell us he was at least above beginner level to be brave enough to face (us) instead.
When you're not facing your violin, you would usually lean your head towards it, resulting in your ear becoming the closest thing to it- here's a real life example:
Now, if there was anything my teacher warned me before starting violin, is that even without having your ear be the closest thing to it, the strings are already LOUD😭 so its even louder when you alr have ur ear on it. The violin is considered one of the most emotional instruments ever, their lower sound resemble what we use to express sadness in speech. Basically, what I'm trying to say is, you as a player are forced to feel what you're playing. Thus is also why you play the violin with Your Heart (2).
So, how does this tie into Satan? It's no secret that our handsome man is incredibly romantic, and to me if he ever wants to express something to us and making sure the message is clearly received, the equally emotional violin is his best bet! The violin allows Satan to play heartwrenching notes that would quickly be felt by the listener.
Lets get technical.
There's still another side of the violin, as there is another side to Satan. The way you stroke your bow matters, the way you angle it so you'll only hit the notes you want. (thankfully if you mess up, the violin is made to still sound graceful😂). Satan too, is quite the detail oriented person. He is tactical, analytical, observant, a man obsessed with striving to be the perfect one, etc etc. The need of preciseness of the violin is definitely right up his alley. The way you need everything to be correct to be rewarded for a beautiful sound. Idk exactly where I'm going with this but it's basically intelligence meets emotion kinda thing, do you see it too?!?!
In conclusion, the violin is a wonderful instrument that both requires great attention to detail yet is also incredibly emotional and heartfelt, an instrument that requires your gut and heart guide your play without abandoning technique. Satan, the incredibly smart yet fluffy softie, is quite literally made for this and I LOVE HIM for that RAAAAAAHHHH. im normal.
THATS IT RLLY im soooo sorry if it's incredibly messy please have a sugarry picture <3 ily
#obey me satan#satan obey me#yes i like omori how did you know#thinking abt me and satan covering duet mghhhnnnhhhh#STAN SATAN OUR MULTI TALENTED KING FOR CLEAR SKIN#rambling a bit#obey me#obey me nightbringer
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hi hella do you have thoughts on the tiktokification of ethel cain (given her leaving social medias) anyway sorry if you dont i just love the way you think xx
i think a very simplified explanation of what tiktok does to music and why it fundamentally always Grates on me is that people on tiktok cannot just listen to a song. it's no longer enough to enjoy a song or an artist. you're not a 'true fan' if you just simply listen to the music and find any level of enjoyment from it. you have to instead know every single lyric, and every meaning of that lyric, and then when that isn't enough because the masses are now also doing that, you then need to know what the artist's thought process was for the lyrics, where they were when they wrote it, exactly what they mean by it. interpretation is no longer allowed because the 'true fans' correct you with what the artist said in a niche interview from 2019 and 'if you really liked the song you would know that'. it doesnt matter what the song means to YOU because it now needs to be consumed in the Exact Way Tiktok Says It Should Be. and then of course it all becomes narrower and narrower and all the while the fans are TEARING the artists apart in an attempt to be the one individual listening to them most often and most correctly and with the most thorough understanding, and the artist is just. some guy. like literally just a person behind a screen reading every stupid as fuck thing and seeing the same stupid as fuck comments over and over and over again and it's like yeah. that would drive me fucking insane too actually
#there is no correct way of consuming media. like this need to be special and the snobbery it creates is something even ive been guilty of#like i will say ive only ever joked about it (like i made a post a while ago about tiktokers not realising gibson girl#was about drugs and prostitution) but i cant think of a time ive ever been ACTUALLY pissed about it#and that was more me being annoyed the tiktok crowd had got ethel cain anyway like IN GENERAL lol#but people on tiktok are actually IN that mindset. like they truly believe there's a correct way to listen to music#and they WILL police you on it if you dont adhere to that and they NEED it to be memeable so they can feel like they have inside jokes#with the artist despite them being a fucking stranger and it's WEIRD and more than anything it's fucking ANNOYING#and at the end of the day someone who listens to gibson girl bc it hypes them up and they have no idea about the lyric meaning#or its context in the rest of the album or in fact who ethel cain even is#are doing just as much justice to the art as people who listen to every single song religiously and know every single meaning#ultimately music is created to make people feel things. art is created to make people feel things#if you felt something listening to it then great. that is literally the only requirement needed. you dont need the artist's social security#number and worst traumatic experience in order to be considered thee fan of all time#ask
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Do You Ever Just Forget How To Do Hypnosis?
Not even joking. This isn't some sort of shit-post I promise, but sometimes with ADHD brain going brrrr I will get into my hypnosis thing whether it be a script or a live scene and my brian will just go:
"hey are you sure you actually remember how to do hypnosis?"
So the question is, how do we combat this feeling? Because let's be honest it's one that is not rational nor required when you are tisting on the regular and like me have a busy work schedule of giving people the hypnosis feels. (As a quick side note, in a scene with a trusted partner it would be hot af to have your ability to "fight back" with hypnosis taken away, especially if you were both switches with sticky fingers and brains, but I'm going to pocket that for another time...)
Step one: Take a break!
I'm not even kidding. I know when my battery is dead energy wise I am more prone to this kind of thinking. Maybe you are tired or overworked as a dominant/top (the person doing the hypnosis doesn't always have to be dominant). I know people who can literally do scene after scene after scene, and that has never been me. I literally went three years without hypnotizing anyone outside of making audios and livestreaming, including my wife, because I was chronically ill and just worn down. You can't be a super tist if you aren't taking care of yourself. So, take a break. Look after yourself. If you aren't doing that it could be a sign that burnout is coming, or approaching and you need to protect yourself. Never be afraid to say "that's enough". Many times I've hit my limit not only long term but mid scene as a Domme. It's okay and it's very normal and I wish we spoke about it more.
Step two: Try something new!
Sometimes, I get stuck in a rut of doing the same thing over and over. I love repetition and conditioning using it is fun but wow, it can get boring for everyone. So this feeling could be a sign it's time to read some smut, listen to some audios, read the blogs and try something new. It might not work, but it might also be the best thing you've ever done. Recently I also have been sending tiny audios to friends based on whims or ideas I've been thinking of. This is a great way to test something new, low stakes, and play around. I also recommend having people you can talk to. I love to befriend other hypnosis creators and community members because not only are they just "built different" and fun to be around but also I can hear them talk about their passions, which reignites mine and we can pool ideas.
Set three: Read some resources!
Education is so important in this scene. Now that doesn't mean do what I did and go to a certifcation course, I don't think people outside of people wanting to be a professional hypnotist should do this. But it is important to refresh your knowledge and not be afraid to learn. Now I am an ex-teacher so I am biased as hell about the importance of education, but, it's not hard to upgrade your skills with a little education. Mind Play is a great book, I always recommend it for being simple to read. Go to a class at a convention or locally (they have them online too so you can access them even in places far away like New Zealand). Join a hypnosis discord with discussion rooms or groups. Talk to others about their experiences. Watch a YouTube video on hypnosis. Listen to podcasts about it. These are all educational tools for upgrading your skills and even if like me you've been doing this for an eternity (or what feels like it) you can still refresh your skills and maybe you might learn something that helps get you out of that funk.
So these are just some of the things that help when my brain decides to gaslight me into thinking I am terrible at this. I know this is never going to be one side fits all but I think it's important to talk about imposter syndrome from all sides of the watch.
Have you ever felt like this? And if so what did you do about it? I'd love to keep this conversation going!
-Secret
#hypnok1nk#content creation#hypnosis community#secret subject#just musings I guess#some sort of hypnosis essay
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The Salvation Day Interviews (1 of 2) with musician Anthony Tadlock
youtube
Dear listener, as a special treat and for the edification of music lovers all over Tumblr this is part 1 of 2 of my Salvation Day Interviews with Anthony Tadlock, A.K.A. t-underneaththeradardancing on Tumblr. Mr Tadlock, I recently spent several hours listening to Salvation Day. Thanks for agreeing to answer some questions about your band’s music.
When I dive headlong into music that I’m not too familiar with there’s always this sense of discomfort, but when I started with Mercy from your EP, The Backdoor Sessions, I felt distinctly like I was sitting in a new bar and listening to an exceedingly talented local band perform live. I know we’ve discussed this one-on-one before, but for the peeps on Tumblr, what was the actual genesis of SD, and how did you and Ms Vita Rhie Quintanilla meet? What was the spark that brought you two together to record in the first place?
to set the stage - so to speak - i had been performing with and jamming and hanging with a young musician - very loose no muss fuss - 3 weeks before meeting vita i had a mild heart attack - mild but the hospital experience was literally a nightmare and nearly killed me - a couple weeks after getting out i was invited over to play/ jam/hang out - wuz expecting at most a couple other ppl to b there - btw to digress - t is very much an introvert - to digress further - t is a stage name but the only name ppl in the music aspect of my life know me by or call me - anywaves - i had just set up my guitar and amp when i could feel a presence coming down the stairs - a young woman - at 1st i guessed 25- ish which would make her the 2nd oldest in the room - she looked at a painting of crows and i said something to her about my love of corvids - i was improvising on guitar - some blues - i think a bass player was playing along and maybe another guitar - she started singing improvising lyrics and we started riffing off each other - her voice blew me away - then she started playing her original songs - omfg ! - anyway - i hoped that we would play together again
a couple weeks later she walked into Madrone Art Bar where i frequently played open mics -she was with my friend - both joined me on stage and we did what i call "deep space nine " which is what i called any unplanned unrehearsed collaboration onstage - i of course could not remember her name - she handed me a business card lol - she told me she had a weekly gig at a cafe i had performed at and would i like to join her - by this time i knew she was diagnosed w schizoaffective disorder - that she was 17 still in high school and a witch - we started performing together playing her gigs - open mics - on the street ...there is of course more to the story which may be covered as we go on
I went through every song on Salvation Day’s YouTube page, the instrumentals and the voice go very well together, and I must admit, there is great synergy on display. You two had me mesmerized a few times, particularly with tunes like Para Ti and Reincarnation. Tell me, do the instrumentals come first, or do the lyrics/vocals come first, or somehow both at the same time? What goes into the process before you record?
virtually all of salvation day songs are mostly vita - the lyrics in particular - some have come out of improvising at gigs - or as vita would say - we are just gonna pull something out of our ass now - some she has already "arranged " before i hear them others she asks me to figure out some chords and key - it should be noted that after graduating high school she moved to davis ca about 100 long miles away with no good way of getting there and back on public transit - required bus ride - a subway ride and finally a train and took 3 hours - neither of us drive though she recently learned - t cant see for shit so - and there was lots of drama in the summer preceding - however we rarely felt the need to rehearse - at early gigs i would ask whats the 1st chord and what key - sometimes the answer was - idk - jimi hendrix chords lol - sometimes they were jazz chords i didnt know - i still play a lot of chords im not quite sure the name of and double stops that suggest a chord - on a good night i play by ear and improvise mostly - when we decided we were gonna make an album - we formalized the arrangements and figured out keys etc ...
sometimes - like last week when we got together after not playing together in a couple months - tho exchanging some snippets thru email text etc - vita thought of some lyrics on the spot - i started playing some chords - we fucked around w it a bit - made a rough recording on fones and will see if something comes of it - Reincarnation was written just before we met - vita says the songs morphed and become different thru my influence - Para Ti she had come up with a couple months after we started playing together - we were at the friends house - and he had become totally indisposed - we were supposed to start the recording process that day - we waited around to see if he would improve and she started playing it - i came up w the lead guitar lines - btw to digress to q 1 - vita was often in and out of hallucinations and delusions at the time - she has no memory of the 1st time we met and hazy about the beginning period - one last example Mercy - written entirely by vita - tho my guitar was central - she sent me an audio file - it has chords i dont know - i just followed her voice and elaborated - tbh i still dont know what key it is in lol - like jack sparrow eluding capture we just make it up as we go
Do you have any advice for aspiring musicians out there based on your experiences with SD so far? Have you had any creative blocks or serious problems when generating new music? If so, how do you get through them, and what do you think the most important thing is for a musician to do when they feel discouraged or dejected by their own bad experiences with music making?
whew - thats a tough one - i have been playing guitar for almost 60 years - been in a number of bands and playing situations - have been discouraged countless times - most recent was the whole experience of recording a studio album with a producer - it was hugely stressful for myriad reasons and ego deflating and not in a good way - we coped w that by recording the Backdoor Sessions ep - the bulk of was recorded in a couple hours in vita's tiny dorm room using garageband - it was done without rehearsal - and we played 2 gigs in january that we were happy with also w no rehearsal - we also released vita's book The Schizophrenic Dialogues - all while covid was rearing its ugly head - no gigs to promote anything - no spoken word opportunities - vita was in terror of infecting me - between age COPD and heart i was a likely candidate to die - so we saw each other rarely
i had invested a huge amount of $ in the studio album - to cope vita started a collective based on Sacred Arts Productions - a jewelry biz and an art biz - i worked w our web designer / friend / collaborator maggie umber to get our web site up - and started recording daily snippets for instagram and spammed the fuck out of tumblr - vita and i met mostly outdoors - playing mostly acoustic where the chances of infecting me were minimized (she got covid twice during this period ) so i guess my advice is 1) forget the ego and bullshit that goes w doing - anything - but particularly the creative 2) forget about "success" and numbers - sales/listens/hearts...3) just keep on keepin on - that said it aint easy sometimes - i been playing as i said almost 60 years - theres still so much i dont know - i try to learn new things and ways almost daily - just showing up is sometimes a victory
Listen to Salvation Day on Youtube. Back at the end of the next week with part 2 of my Q&A with Mr Tadlock. If you liked this post, please spread the word about SD and consider reblogging this set of interviews. And if you haven’t done it yet, scroll to the top of this post and smash play!
#salvation day#para ti#path of sacred art#anthony tadlock#vita rhie quantanilla#interview#music#music on tumblr#audio#audio video#great voice#great instrumentals#california band#rock music#blues music#jazz standards#san francisco band#T is one of my fav musicians on tumblr#been waiting to pick his brain
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So David making the show gayer and listening to his collaborators... is a bad thing. Even if you weren't twisting his words, you're not making the point you think you are.
I did never say anything like that, what I sad is that the show was never supposed to be so queer in the beginning and that pretty much all of the queer details about the characters came from the queer actors. My conclusion was not “David Jenkins bad because he didn’t want to make a queer show”, my conclusion was “it is beautiful that these queer people poured their hearts into it and created something with a lot of meaning for other queer people”.
Yes I also used phrases like “we were never even supposed to have what we got” and “This show was NEVER supposed to give us beautiful things and treat it’s queer characters with “kindness”! It was NEVER supposed to be for queer people!”, implying that I personally felt like s2 made some choices that I, with my personal experience as a queer person was disappointed in (such as cutting all the poly scenes and killing of the older queer characters right after giving him a coming out arc, in doing so removing an actor who is very vocally supportive of trans people which I, as a trans person appreciate and used the opportunity on convention panels to talk about queer rights and removing the only of the three most central characters in s2 actually played by a queer person, etc.).
But that was just a tiny and implied undertone in an overwhelmingly positive post, in which I praise the cast of the show. And for the record, I DO think that it is great that DJ made these adjustments, I work in theater and occasionally in film and know that it is also not uncommon or bad to make changes as the project evolves and actors flesh out the roles more. I simply pointed out that he is not the one who originally had the ideas to make it this queer and that he originally didn’t plan to let the main queer love story end with a happy ending.
Firstly this is not a bad thing, there are a lot of shows out there that aren’t queer, no body is “required” to make queer shows. Secondly where the hell am I twisting his words, he LITERALLY said all of the things I listed as changes towards a more queer show himself and you can find all the interviews linked in the source I gave in my post!
Again the over all tone of my post was “oh my god, look what crazy info I stumbled upon and isn’t it fucking fantastic that these gorgeous queers have turned this regular show into something that means so much to us”. And that you manage to take that positive post and read something sooooo negative into it, just because someone dares to say that maybe David isn’t this amazing queer rights activist that some fans make him out to be and didn’t plan on making a revolutionary queer show, is honestly baffling to me.
I am also not “trying to make any point”, this is my personal block with barely 30 followers where I described my personal feelings towards factually true information and my personal feelings are:
I fucking love Vico, I fucking love Con, I fucking love Kristian (also Nathan and every queer person who worked on this behind the scenes) but I’m not gonna kiss David Jenkins feet for something that wasn’t even his idea, I don’t “owe” a cis straight guy who dosnt understand half of why the things his queer cast came up with are so important, gratitude. I gladly and freely extend a big fucking chunk of gratitude to queer actors who put their heart and soul into their queer roles way more then they are required to.
Hope this helps.
#the gentlebeardies are at it again#now you can’t even compliment the actors anymore without being a hater#ofmd season 2#ofmd drama#ofmd#ofmd s2#ofmd discourse#fandom culture#why the fuck is this fandom so toxic#why are you going into peoples post just to tell them they like the wrong things about a show#I don’t purposefully search for gentlebeard posts just to yell at them that actually Stizzy is way better#If you disagree with a take based on actual show facts argue about it in a polite way#If you dislike a take ignore/block and move on but don’t come at people screeching “you’re wrong/not making the point you think you make”#our flag means death#toxic fandom#ofmd 2#david jenkins
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okie okie yall pinky promised!! here is part one of the prologue of 'bovzek and the devil' and you are all required to read it. constructive criticism is encouraged bc im not used to this writing style and I'm still getting used to it. this is very much a first FIRST draft!!
some notes-- this is a dark fairytale esc story taking place around ~1000 AD in eastern eourpe in an imaginary country, Milan-Rosae. the folktale creatures are slavic in origin. tw for misogyny from the pov character, pregnancy, death during childbirth, talk of a baby dying from starvation (the baby does not die!), and a dude seriously having it out for a literal infant
enjoy!
Queen Wenzel was pregnant. Her stomach was swollen, her belly button poking out as stretchmarks made vines across the taut, cellulite-puckered flesh, like ivy creeping up brick. The baby--their baby-- kicked often, shifting beneath the skin of her belly, and Claudius took great pride in feeling the fluttering movement under the palm of his hand as he rested it on Wenzel’s stomach. Their boy (because it would be a boy, Claudius was sure of it) would be strong, with arms as mighty and unwavering as the kicks against the wall of its mother’s womb. Wenzel was due any day now, maybe even any hour. Drowsy spring stretched on outside the castle windows and Claudius could hardly contain his excitement, just as he could barely hold back the growing annoyance he felt towards his wife. Her vomiting, her crying, her whines of pain and backache as she grew larger, her once beautiful body now ruined with child, all grated on him like porcupine quills against fresh bark.
Wenzel and Claudius’ marriage hadn’t been born out of love, but instead a treaty between a rich walled kingdom that gnawed on the tail of the Roman Byzantine Empire, and Milan-Rosae, the heart of the East. Nestled between Pomerania, the fiercely held vassal of the Holy Roman Empire, and the Duchy of Bohemia, back before the Schism of 1212 split the world apart, Milan-Rosae was a place of beauty that, in Claudius’ opinion, rivaled no other. Surrounded by the Šumava, a towering roof of green spruce that clung against the sides of the Murmuring Mountains, and the Vydra, the Mighty Otter, a river that cut through the green and brought with it icy lakes and peat bogs, Milan-Rosae was protected from all. Queen Wenzel and King Claudius the VII had made a loveless marriage into a successful allegiance, one that would soon bear an heir, and Claudias awaited that day with bated breath.
Claudius shifted in his saddle. Technically, a royal hunt could have (and probably should have) been put off until Alois was born, but Claudius couldn’t spend another damn day with Wenzel. If he had to listen to his wife vomit all over her swollen belly again he might tear out what little hair he had left. He’d taken to having her sleep in a guest suite; Claudius couldn’t spend another night listening to her sniveling. No, what he needed was fresh air and the company of his men, not Wenzel’s displaced humors, and a hunt would provide just that. Wenzel had pitched a fit of course, as all women did, whimpering something about how she couldn’t be left alone when the birth was so close, and how frightened she was to pass the boy without a hand to hold, but frankly, Claudius had no intention of being there when she did pop his boy out. Too much blood and shit and organs. He’d much prefer his only memories of his wife naked be when he thrust himself in and filled her with his children, not when she was shitting and bleeding all over herself, thank you very much. As long as he could hold a baby boy soon, he was happy.
The royal hunt was supposed to be to find a great Azhdaya, deep in the forest, after which rClaudius and his men would take down the beast, a demonic wryn with three heads, and make a headboard for the newborn prince from its breastbone. In truth, Claudius was just ready to be alone in the wilderness and wild, with only his vassals and knights by his side, sword in one hand and bow in the other, his hounds gnashing their teeth and yanking on the lead as they smelled the air for the scent of dragon. Claudius was ready to let them loose, to swing his sword and spill blood; Wenzel, as beautiful as she was, was desperate to emasculate, constantly carrying on about the importance of kisses and gentle touches. Claudius did not approve of striking women-- he was a Godly man, after all-- but sometimes Wenzel’s nauseating need to be held at night after fucking tested him. Hopefully, the baby would provide an outlet for her, but until the baby came, Claudius needed an outlet for his pent-up frustration, and dragon hunting would do just that. The hunt called to him, whispering of glory and freedom, and Claudius was more than happy to answer that call.
Claudius clicked his tongue, and with a sharp flick of his reins, the horse moved forward. The spring had been mild, the Ride of the King untouched by heavy rain or wind, a sign of good to come. The festival and parade had been grand, and Claudius had been proud to sit above it all and watch the Pentecostal precession march by. May was nearly halfway through, and soon the breath of summer would blow across the treetops of the Šumava and turn the capital city into a sweltering pit of misery, but until then, Claudius enjoyed what was left over from the peaceful shower that had fallen yesterday. They turned the greenery of the forest a bright emerald, the plants soaking up the rain like a sponge did lye, and the ground was spongey with moss beneath his horse’s hooves. Mist and moisture hung in the air, the humidity almost uncomfortable as it sunk into his chest. Arnold rode in step with Claudius’ horse. The vassal was a good soldier, loyal and reverent with a touch of bloodlust that excited Claudius at every joust and hunt, and, had his family not been as brown-blooded as they came, Claudius would have called the man a friend.
“I smell a storm coming, my liege,” Arnold said, his horse walking a respectable five feet behind and to the left of Claudius’ own. He craned his head back to look at the towering spruces around them, and Claudius took a deep breath in. Yes, he could feel the weight of rain settling in his lungs. It was coming, and soon. Rainstorms meant the Vydra would swell, bringing with her all sorts of creatures, ones that Claudius would very much like to avoid. That was the downside of a forest as majestic as the Šumava. Poets had compared the spruces of Claudius’ forest to giants, creatures of wood reaching up with branches so that they might shake hands with God. With her protection, Claudius need not fear the Holy Roman Empire, nor Pomerania, nor the Duchy of Bohemia. Should the massive trees fail to deter invaders, then her tenants certainly would; after all, it wasn’t just bark and roots and tree nettles that could be found on the forest floor. No, the Šumava carried with it secrets-- grand, dangerous secrets.
Fae. Samojuda and Vila, Baždarica and Rusalka, even Vodník all made their homes amongst Claudius’ trees, on the banks of its river and lakes, up in the branches and down in unmarked graves. Father Michael would surely click his tongue and shake his head to hear Claudius speak of such things, but it was the simple truth. Strange creatures lived in the forest, with too-big eyes and too-long teeth, who spoke with gentle, booming voices. Claudius believed in the fae; it was foolish not to, and now, as they moved through the wet glittering spruces, the creatures felt close.
“Aye,” Gregory said in reply as Arnold repeated himself for the third time. Arnold had a nasty habit of jabbering, a little too fond of his own voice. In contrast, Gregory, the newest and youngest of his knights, was quiet and self-contained. He carried promise, if he’d simply harden his heart a tad. He was too kind, too mushy, and it would bite him in the ass sooner than later, and when it did, Claudius was not going to bail the man out of his troubles. “It reeks of lightning. Should we turn back, my Lord?”
Claudius hummed, peering up at the sky. The sky couldn’t open up, not now when they were so deep in the forest away from warmth and shelter. They hadn’t even heard a sniffle from the Azhdaya, let alone its roar, and Claudius had no desire to return empty-handed. That and, should it rain, his new doublet, a fine green thing that perfectly complimented the foliage, would be ruined by the mud, which would be an absolute shame.
“Give it an hour more,” Claudius said, giving his horse a slight squeeze with his knees and sending it off from a slow, steady trot to a canter. “If the sky darkens anymore, we shall turn back.” The two men nodded, turning in their saddles to repeat the order to the other vassals and knights present. The party pressed closer together and spurred on their horses, moving through the spruce like snakes through tall grass. Claudius was beginning to debate picking up the pace even more when, as if the sky had been waiting for the decision, the clouds split. The grey clouds had been deceptively small-- now, as the rain poured down, Claudius was quickly becoming sure this would be much more than a simple spring shower. Damn it.
Arnold swore, jerking his horse to a stop, with Gregory not far behind. A flash of lightning lit up the sky with a crack. Claudius jerked his horse back. Well, shit. The lightning had been close, dangerously so; they needed to turn around. Claudius turned to shout the order to Arnold when another pearl of lightning came down from the sky, striking a tree not even a hundred yards away in a spray of light and heat. The tree split with a scream, the sound almost drowned out by the thunder. It swayed once before tilting back, then forward; Arnold let out a shout, calling for Claudius, but the tree had already fallen, crashing to the ground between Claudius and his men. Claudius’ horse reared up in surprise, eyes wild and ears flattened, and Claudius struggled to grip its slick leather.
“Easy, beast!” Claudius yelled over the rain, jamming his heels into the horse’s sides. Instead of settling, the creature bolted. Clinging to it desperately, Claudius pressed himself close over the horse’s mane. Still delirious, the stupid beast leaped over the tree that was already taking flame and took off into the trees. Claudius could do nothing but grit his teeth and struggle to stay in his saddle as the horse wove through the trees. The forest had quickly become dark with rain, the sky now completely blanketed with clouds, the only light the blinding flash of lighting every few minutes. The horse squealed at a particularly large flash, rearing back and shaking its head, and the leather was too wet, the rain too thick, the spring air too electric—Claudius’ hands slipped from the reins and as the horse spun directions he was flung off, back into a tree, smacking his head against the bark, ripping hair and flesh as he tumbled to the ground. He didn’t have the time to think of his wife, of his unborn baby, even of Arnold or Gregory; he didn’t think at all before he crashed to the ground, still and dim as a snuffed candle.
---
When he woke, the forest was dark. Claudius pulled himself from the ground with a sound of disgust. Mud crusted his new doublet, thoroughly ruining it, and he was soaked to the skin. Moss clung to his beard and vines wrapped around his legs; it took an obnoxious amount of time to free himself from them. He spat out silt, struggling to right himself. The mud had sucked him down like a yearning lover, and with a grunt, he struggled to his feet.
The forest was silent. The rain had stopped. The sky was clear of clouds, but still black, the stars dim and the moon gone. There was no light in this night, no north star, and Claudius frowned as he brushed off his trousers.
“Arnold!” He yelled, turning in a circle, taking in the soaked trees. “Gregory!”
Nothing.
Fuck.
His men wouldn’t abandon him, of that Claudius was sure, and his idiot of a steed—which was now, of course, nowhere to be found—couldn’t have dragged him far. But it had been light when the rain started and now the sky was a black velvet blanket. Claudius was clueless as to how much time had passed. He sighed.
“Arnold! Gregory! I’m here!” He shouted, knowing the words wouldn’t travel far in the soaked moss of the forest. Still, he refused to let his growing concern enter his voice.
“Damn it all, you idiots, here I am!”
Nothing. Not a sound, not even the chirp of spring insects. Perfect silence. He could sit and wait, but then his trousers would get wet, and he was growing anxious. How far had the horse dragged him?
How far from home was he?
Suddenly, a low, mournful sound cut through the silence of the night, and Claudius’ heart skipped a beat. Wolves. He took a steadying breath. He had a sword and knew well how to use it, but one man against a pack of beasts was still unfortunate odds. He could climb a tree and wait the wolves out, but the thought of being surrounded by a pack throughout the night, perched precariously and shivering on high branches as they slobbered and panted, waiting out their hunger was terrifying. Claudius knew he was a strong man in good health, he was unsure how long he could hold himself up.
The mourning voices came again, louder, longer, closer, and Claudius’ well-thought planning left his mind entirely. He turned on heel and ran, breaking through the trees, water and mud sucking at his boots, spruce needles clawing at his face and ruined doublet, and Claudius knew that surly the wolves were just behind him, their foaming gums and teeth gnashing at his ankles.
(The wolves were, in truth, far from Claudius. They gave little thought to the king. After all, the lumberer had died today, her sweet breath gone and her gentle heart stopped. No longer would she run with wolves, no longer would she feed them the finest parts of the deer from her hand. No longer would she scare away hunters and clap in delight at the wolves’ song. The lumberer was gone, dead and cooling. The stars and moon had dimmed their lights in mourning, and the sky opened its clouds in her memory— even the fair folk that lived amongst the spruces wept for h. The lumberer had died and the whole forest hung its head.)
Claudius ran, his blood pounding in his ears. The trees clawed at him, and it seemed to Claudius that the whole forest wished to devour him. He pulled his riding cloak tighter around him in hopes it would somehow protect him from the creatures that stalked the trees at night, until he came stumbling into a clearing he did not recognize. And there, in the center, as if the spruces had politely moved to make just enough room for it, was a house.
House was clearly an overstatement—the wood was warped and swollen, the nails rusted, the door uneven and crooked on its hinges—but the late lumberer’s home radiated warmth, the kind that could never be found in a court or a castle. Piles upon piles of wood, somehow untouched by the rain, sat proudly by the side of the wall, ready to be cultivated into fine lumber, and a sprawling garden of all wonderous things took up the right wall of the home. Vines curled protectively around the pane-less windows. Claudius squeezed the rain and mud from his doublet, straightened the crown on his head, and knocked on the door, kicking the gunk from his boots on the edge of the welcome step.
Nothing.
He knocked again.
“I stand before you as King Claudius Rampars the VII of Milan-Rosae, King of this land and the Šumava forest, and demand you open your door.” He called. He could hear shuffling inside, and the sound of stifled cries, and huffed. How dare they not open when he called? Who did this idiot think they were anyway? He grabbed the doorknob and tested it—unlocked, and unlatched. Very well. If this was what he needed to do to make himself known, then he’d happily let himself in. After all, as king, every door belonged to him. Claudius, with little care of the coming consequences, flung the door open, and stepped inside.
A woman sat by the fire. Claudius immediately turned his eyes—it seemed she’d mistaken living alone for living in heathenry, and sat in just her skirts, her bare flat chest open for all to see, exposing creamy flesh and plump curves of fat that rolled across her hips. She hissed something in some barbaric, unfamiliar language and drew herself up, impossibly tall with clear, too-wide dark eyes and hair the color of starlight tumbling in rich waves down her back. She turned her eyes upon him, and at that moment a word was whispered deep in the back of Claudius’ head: samojuda. But that couldn’t be so. The samojuda, those beautiful women of another world, lived along the Otter, not in shacks in clearings where the closest water was a hand-dug well.
“What in the Great Hells do you think you are doing?” The woman spat. The power in her words raised the hair along Claudius’ spine, a fear he didn’t quite understand-- but then there came a soft sound and a wail from a box nuzzled close to the fire. The woman let out a pained gasp and rushed to the box on the ground, softly shushing it, before gathering up a bundle of wool and skin—a baby. Small, painfully small, no more than a day old, with tan olive skin and bare swirls of auburn, brown-red hair, face scrunched up near in pain as it (he?) screamed.
“Shh, shh, hush little one, all is well, Matka is here,” the woman whispered, bouncing him desperately, and Claudius waited for someone with milk-filled breasts to come from deeper in the home to feed the clearly starving child, but instead the woman just held him close, face pale and shaky, eyes wild.
“Well?” Claudius said, watching the baby’s shriveled up face, “Aren’t you going to feed him?”
“I… I can’t,” the woman said, painfully soft. “I’m not his birth mother. I have no milk to give.”
Claudius scanned the small home for the mother—there was the fire, a loft, and little else, and no mother in sight.
“Then where is she?” He asked and the woman flinched, clinging tighter to the baby.
“She’s dead. I—she was sick, I tried to stop the bleeding, but it all happened so fast, and, and…”
The woman buried her face in the bare chest of the baby. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without her,” she said softly, more to herself than him, “I can’t feed him. I’ve tried with a rag and some goat milk, but he won’t latch. Every child I’ve created from the forest I haven’t thought of for even a moment once I rid myself of them, but he… he has his mother’s eyes, I cannot… I cannot watch him die.”
The woman took a shuddering breath. “I wish he had died with his mother. At least then it would have been quick. Now he will starve, long and slow, and I can do nothing to stop it.”
Slowly, the baby quieted, and the woman’s eyes, glittering in her skull, softened. “My little boy…” she whispered, brushing a finger over his closed eyelid, “my precious little boy.”
Claudius shifted uncomfortably in the doorway.
“Does he have a name?”
The woman let out a bitter laugh. “Why bother? He’ll be dead in a few days.”
“Will he be baptized?”
The woman’s face twisted. “Absolutely not.”
“Why? You’re not some heathen in the woods, are you?” Claudius said with a scoff, and the woman turned her dark eyes to him, shining with something malicious.
“Watch your words, your majesty.” She spat, and Claudius took a step back without thinking too.
“I—”
“You speak to me of baptism? You know nothing of how this forest works, its history, its people, its magic. Nothing!” She said, taking a strong step forward, soon nose to nose with Claudius, her baby nearly pinned between them.
“Leave.” She said, “Leave this place. Forget me, forget the babe, go back to where you came from, king. You are unwelcome here.”
And then the baby began to cry. Weaker this time, quieter, less a wail and more a wrecked sob, and the woman swore, rocking him gently.
“Look what you’ve done.” She hissed, “Won’t you let us die in peace?”
Claudius’ mouth stuttered. “I—”
“Is it too much to ask for a creature and her baby to die, together and warm and unbothered?”
“Ma’am—”
“Don’t ma’am me when you barged into my home!”
The baby’s cries had become screams, and tears had begun to drip down the woman’s face, and Claudius’ insides shriveled. Never in his life had he seen a baby cry up close, and the scrunched flesh and watery eyes gutted him in a way nothing had before. His baby would look like this. His Alois, his son, his heir. Would he die too if Wenzel were to pass before she could hold him to her breast?
No. No, Wenzel wouldn’t pass, and even if she did, God protect her, Alois would have a wet nurse and a million men and women and court folk who would happily hold him to their breast. Alois would have everything, and this woman (Woman? Creature? Samojuda?) would have nothing.
“I am a king,” he said softly, and the woman’s face twisted with a sneer.
“Oh, truly?” She said mockingly, and Claudius held up a hand.
“Please, listen. I am a king—I have access to many resources and many pregnant and nursing nobles who would bend over backward to please me. If I asked, they would welcome your baby into their crest in an instant.”
The woman stopped, mouth hanging open. “I… are you…?”
“It is a generous offer, but one I am willing to hold myself to.”
The woman cradled her baby even closer to her chest. “You would?” She whispered, and Claudius felt himself nod, not even sure he was doing so.
The woman took a step back. Between them, the baby had quieted. She walked back to the fire and slowly sunk down to the box, sitting on its edge, and began to hum. Claudius found himself entranced by her song, her sound, like sweet dew and warm sunlight, and a deep breath after a dip in cold water. She waved him over and slowly, he moved to her side and sat beside her.
“What was the mother’s name?” He asked softly, and the woman took his hand, guiding it to the baby’s head. Claudius wondered at his wispy hair, his dark eyes, and the baby smiled at him. Claudius smiled back.
“She was a lumberer,” The woman said, “She wooed me with little carvings and statuettes, carved them till her hands bled and left them for me to find until I fell in love with the little things and then, slowly, with her. She was beautiful, with skin like an oak leaf, hair like a river, and eyes like starlight. She loved the world unabashedly, loved the wolves and the buzzards and the worms as much as she did the flowers and the larks. She was my little lark. She… she always had a long on her lips, and we joined in bed together, so ready to raise a little one… We were overjoyed when she became fat with child.”
The reverent look on her face faded, replaced with a bitterness that made Claudius shiver. “She grew pregnant, that’s for sure. Then sick, and then bloody, and then dead.”
“My wife, she is with child, too,” Claudius said. “A boy, I’m sure of it, and I will name him Alois, after the mighty warriors, so he will grow to be strong and unbreakable.”
“Strong and unbreakable,” the woman said softly, “isn’t that a wonderful thought? Maybe my boy will be the same. Will you, beloved? Will you be strong and unbreakable?”
The baby gurgled up at them. Claudius was struck with a sudden warmth despite the chill of his wet clothes and couldn’t tear his eyes from the boy. He was perfect in every way, with his olive skin, dark eyes, and auburn red hair.
“He shall be,” Claudius said, and the softness in his chest scared him. Claudius was not a soft person, but beside this baby, his heart felt as mushy as a rotten apple, as sweet as sugar syrup. He felt… weak before this baby, and for a moment a stalk of fear struck him. How could something so small be so powerful? It was almost… otherworldly. Claudius glanced at the baby’s mother and her too-big eyes, her pale hair, her unashamed half-nakedness. What kind of woman was this, alone in the woods with a lumberer as her only company? Who was she, to be so content without civilization, so without civility that she’d sit without anything to cover her chest while before a man, a king? Was her lumberer just as uncivilized?
The baby’s eyes had slipped shut, and the woman ran fingers across his tan cheeks.
“Sleep, worldly king,” She said. “Take the spot by the fire. My boy and I shall take the loft. Enjoy the warmth, and dry yourself. We shall leave early in the morning for your kingdom.”
Claudius perked at that. “You can take me home?”
“Aye. I know these woods better than any else. I can take you to the forest’s edge where the walls that surround your kingdom are. A walled kingdom with a walled capital. How strange—are the bricks to keep all out, or all in?”
Claudius pursed his lips. “The Holy Roman Empire--”
The woman waved a hand. “I have no care for petty human politics. You all die in the end.”
“And you do not?”
The woman looked to Claudius with faraway eyes and gave no answer. Claudius shuddered.
“Take the spot by the fire,” The woman said again, and Claudius nodded without even thinking too. The woman bundled the baby to her chest and moved deeper into the home to the loft, murmuring to the child and not giving Claudius a second glance. Claudius sat, bewildered, and finding he couldn’t speak as he watched the bare back of the woman (samojuda, samojuda, samojuda…). He found his thoughts tumultuous and tangled. The fire couldn’t seem to calm them.
He knew then he would never be able to sleep.
Still, Claudius curled up on the fur on the floor, close to the hot coals, and closed his eyes. He’d take the boy in the morning, but until then… until then he would share a home with a fae and the spring storm howling just outside the pane-less windows.
---
Claudius woke slowly, his eyes heavy and his mouth foul tasting, and furrowed his brow. Something low and melodic drifted through the air, and he sat up. Someone was humming. Claudius slowly stood. It was likely the woman, spending as much time cradling her baby as she could before she lost him forever. Claudius approached the ladder to the loft, ears perked, as the woman stopped humming and began to sing in a low, husky voice, heavy and thick with magic. Claudius felt gooseflesh ripple across his skin at the sound of it. It was heavy with power, and Claudius knew in that moment that this woman was far from mortal. The word ‘samojuda’, that beautiful forest spirit, echoed in his head.
Samojuda, samojuda, samojuda…
He stepped up on the first rung of the ladder and strained his ears as the samojuda continued to speak.
“My sweet, brave little boy," the samogude sang to the baby, "Before you leave me forever, I call upon the Fates to bless you and keep you. I ask they give you the gift of creation. May a love for making something out of nothing temper your heart into shining steel. I ask they give you the gift of compassion- may you be just and good to all men.”
The samojuda took a deep, shaky breath, and Claudius could hear love and despair in it.
“Little one… I ask they give you the gift of love, true, deep love, like that of your mothers’. May you find love that never wavers or breaks. May you be loved by great things— may you live lavishly and be loved by someone greater than all else, who can spoil you as much as they adore you. May you… may you love and be loved by a child born to a king!”
The humming returned, the samojuda done with her song and content to simply rock her baby. The creature’s words were shrill in Claudius’s ears.
A child born to a king.
Claudius dropped down the ladder and sunk to his knees. The boy… he was not some starving lumberer’s child. He was a child of a samojuda, and a beloved one at that. This fae women were known for their changelings, for thrusting babies onto unsuspecting parents and drowning the couple’s original children. For a samojuda to wish to keep a child, to protect it… It was unknown, unfathomable, and spoke of terrifying power. The fae had great influence over the Fates, and if those holy women decided something, it was as good as sealed. That damn samojuda, should the Fates follow her wishes, had just damned a king’s child to a wretched fate. To marry a lumberer’s child… Claudius' heart twisted with disgust at the thought of some half-blooded creature marrying into a court.
It was a bastardization of nature, for something so tainted by inhuman blood and poverty to even look upon a king’s child, let alone touch one, love one, breed with one. Claudius couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t condemn some poor royal to that fate. If something like that were to happen to his own son. The though made Claudius pause. If he took this creature into his court, right after the birth of his own son, his own heir, the chances that... His stomach rolled, and he pressed a hand to his mouth. He couldn't allow it. He wouldn't damn his unborn child to such a life. Fuck promises made, fuck agreements, that child could never step foot in a court. Never.
Claudius would protect his child from such a monstrous fate; the only question was how.
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idc i will die defending cobra kai as one of the most well-written shows ever. every single disagreement between daniel and johnny all depends on perspective. well minus the part where daniel did literally kidnap johnny’s son but that’s not the point rn.
like, every angle of this show depends on the characters making assumptions based on the evidence they’re presented with, their past experiences and what they’ve been taught and by who. the plot revolves around both johnny and daniel believing that *they* are the moral epicenter of the world, that what their senseis taught them was *objectively correct* (or at least made them very very tough), and that they’re the one that holds all the right answers. like, daniel was absolutely tormented by cobra kai as a teenager, and johnny was just refusing to take shit from some yappy upstart. there is just something poetic about the first couple seasons in the way the narratives are pieced together, and both johnny and daniel’s inability to let each other go.
daniel has absolutely no reason to interfere with cobra kai. he’s got a car dealership! he has kids to care for! he’s got a loving wife at home and a membership at the country club! but he is the moral epicenter of the world - cobra kai teaches evil. he has to interfere, as is his duty as Karate God. johnny has nearly the same mindset in reverse, cobra kai saved *him* when he was a kid, and he needed to be saved again. and when miguel needed to be saved, johnny brought back the only thing he thought could do the job.
i think, as far as i’ve watched, the only character really attempting to grow is johnny. he’s trying to unsimplify the cobra kai mindset. in real life there are complicated situations where mercy is required. defeat is inevitable. there are times where you’re not the one that hits first or hardest. and as johnny gets older and learns and relearns these lessons, he’s realizing that he cannot impose unto his kids what was taught to him.
daniel - who hasn’t done this - has never had change required of him. in high school he was (pretty objectively, in my opinion) absolutely in the moral right. and everything in his life has reinforced that and never gave him reason to doubt his perspective. it’s why he refuses to talk to johnny, to learn a fucking thing about the man he’s despised for 30 years for the high crime of being a shitty teenager. i mean, besides the fact that they’re both very stubborn.
i think 90% of what makes this show work so well is that neither daniel nor johnny completely grew out of being 16. like, being self centered and self pitying is one of the great hallmarks of teenager-dom and they keep reeling each other back to that. and they’re all constantly surrounded by teenagers! like Everyone Hates Me and Im The Only One Who’s Ever Felt Like This and Im The Only One Who’s Right And Why Cant Anyone Hear What Im Saying and Im The Only Person To Ever Have This Happen To Me!!!!! My Life Is So Much Worse Than Anyone Else’s!!
cobra kai being a continuation of the movies instead of a spin-off or a legacy retelling is SO important because it shows how neither of them actually ever grew up. the teenage view of life is so limited that it’s basically impossible to get a message through to a 16 year old. like i’m not sure daniel or johnny ever got to that point in their lives where they could see that other people were Just Like Me Too, so everyone can say whatever they want to them. you can say, hey i went through something like this so heres some advice - but they Know Everything!! so why would they ever listen to you??
does that make sense does anyone else get it
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Something has been pissing me off lately and at first I thought I wouldn't comment on it because I stay away from drama but I talked about it with a friend recently and I realized we both felt great saying it. So. Here are my thoughts and feelings as of late about Mr Harry Styles(tm).
This is mostly copied from our texts so don't mind the spelling errors and other... grammatical inconsistencies
I can't look at Harry on stage anymore. It doesn't feel authentic this time around. Listening to him Giving girls advice about boys knowing that those girls are het fans and knowing that they've paid 2 of my salaries to get that close to the stage to be able to talk to him gives me an icky feeling and I don't want to see it. I think this is mostly bc of the way he got this famous. It was the ws music video and the ws agenda that got him there and I know that all those people and full stadiums are either there bc they think they can have an orgy with him or to be able to post a tiktok about being at a harry show (influences go just bc its cool). It's just disgusting to me. I cant be happy about something that dehumanized him and made him a not likeable person. When I know its not the truth.
So yeah I hate that he's famous I hope he has a real taylor swift after 1989 everyone hates him moment so that only the real actual fans remain. I don't even feel guilty for saying that.
And im sorry tumblr i know youre looking at it with rose colored glasses but there is a point where artists are so famous that the LGBT nods in their music videos (especially small ones like LNT) are more a performance than they are a statement. At the point where he is and how straight literally everyone sees him when they see him with a men they don't think omg ew gay they think omg he's so comfortable in being straight that he can even pretend to be on a date with a man omg king. Again, fucking disgusting.
And don't even get me started on. The fact that he doesn't even know p from promo anymore. He gets views and everything just by existing and by insinuating to possible orgies so he hasn't appeared on one single talk show. Hasn't done one single performance. Harry doesn't exist. He doesn't have a personality. He's just a name at this point.
Yes, I'm talking about the orgy discourse on d*ux lately that is so obviously promo. The posts even link to the video 🤢
The worst part is, he deffinitely has a say now. Maybe he didn't when ws was getting promoted cos that was about getting him out there but now we're way past that. He's up there. He's even higher than up there I don't think there's higher than this. So I'd like to think that people who are this famous can have a say when it comes to stuff like that. You're telling me that if harry said NO right now to something he would have consequences? At the level he is now? Impossible. Look at what taylor is doing. She's rerecording all her albums for fucks sake. Bc every single impossible situation is solvable when you have the people on your side. Harry either doesn't realize that yet or he likes it this way. And he's not stupid so....... I think its obvious which one it is..
I think he likes the fame. I think he would like the recognition of another grammy and I think he knows that the only way to get that is to be extremely famous and talked about. And he saw how successful the ws thing was so he's playing it safe. I think he's looking at this from a business perspective more than anything. If there's one thing I've learned about harry is that he's a businessman. This pleasing thing as well. It's insanely expensive. Like... crazy expensive. But it's a bussines. Rihanna made 80% of her fortune from her cosmetic line so harry saw that as a good business decision and did it. I think that's the only reason. I think harry is happy with his private life and has things and people that make him happy there so he treats his job as a job and does everything it requires. In a way that's a good thing and I'm happy for him. I just wish he was more.. genuine in his job as well. But then again if someone told me hey be more yourself when you're at work and don't think about money when working I would slit their throat so theres that....
#my thoughts#i judt want to save this for future reference bc i want all my thoughts in one place#that and i think some of my friends here would maybe find it reassuring#like me and my friend this when we first talked about it#please dont send any hate it won't be tolerated and you will get blocked
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Good Little Helper
Pairing: Season 5! Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
Summary: Reader gets assigned to be Spencer’s personal assistant of sorts after he gets shot in the knee.
Category: SMUT(18+)
Content Warnings: fingering (female receiving), blowjob, praise kink, dirty talk, blink and you’ll miss it cumplay
Word Count: 4.7k
MASTERLIST
NOTE: So, remember yesterday when I posted about how I wished new ideas would stop distracting me from everything I’m currently working on? Yeah. This wouldn’t leave me alone, and I couldn’t work on anything until I got it out of my head, so here! Have a fic! (It was supposed to be a blurb, but I got a little long-winded so now it’s too long to be a blurb oops 😙✌) Also, I apologize for any editing mistakes, I just wrote this out in one go, so hopefully it’s alright!
***
Being assigned to assist Dr. Reid with practically his every need after he was shot in the knee wasn't exactly how I expected to spend the past few months.
And that's, like... a huge understatement.
In fact, when Agent Hotchner came up to me in the break room and said he'd like me to do the job, I dropped my coffee and shattered a mug. I could tell he was a little impatient with me, even through his kind reassurances that it was quite all right as he helped me clean it up and waited for an answer.
In the end I'd said yes to the job, though the more I thought about it the more I wondered how much lust and naivete had clouded my judgement when I did.
Because there was absolutely no way I was going to be able to survive weeks, possibly months, as Spencer Reid's assistant. Not only because he was intimidatingly intelligent and there was almost nothing I could offer him in decent conversation, but also—and more prominently—the fact that I was pretty sure I was in love with him.
Maybe that was a stretch. I definitely had a stupid major crush on him that felt more like we were in middle school, but I could barely look at him without going warm all over. In fact, I think we had only ever made eye contact once and I averted my gaze immediately, afraid I'd give myself away. If I'd have held it any longer, I was positive I'd have burst into flames.
He'd tried talking to me once, a few months after I started working at the Bureau, and it was only to ask if I'd send some files over to their tech analyst, Penelope Garcia, but when I tried answering, I stumbled over my words and ended up only getting out a squeaked, "Uh huh," before taking the files from him and scurrying off.
I almost cried that day.
Basically every time I was in his presence, I was a total wreck. Even more so than I was on any other given day.
Being his assistant did get fairly easy pretty early on, though. I mostly just stayed out of his way while he worked, and if he need anything that he could've gotten himself if not for the injury, it was my job to get it for him. I worked on my own paperwork most of the time, and he was always busy working on geographical profiles and whatever else, we only ever really had to talk when he asked for something. And that only required a, "Sure," on my end, so I could just get up, get what he needed, and then go back to work.
Still, it didn't help that sometimes I'd get distracted.
He was very distracting.
I usually waited until I was sure he was so busy in work that I wouldn't get caught. And that's when I'd peek over my computer or hide behind a book and stare at him. I know that sounds creepier than it is, but if you had to spend almost every hour of the day with him, you'd have done the same. Even though for months he was put on rest from the field, he always showed up looking more like a college professor than an FBI agent. Which, I suppose suited him more anyway. Regardless, it was a damn fine look. His hair was decently long and extremely pretty, and when he got the cane?
I was a goner.
It was at that point, though, when I started to realize that he probably wouldn't need my help anymore. He'd been allowed back into the filed by then, and even when I went with them on cases it still felt like I was more out of place than usual. Sure, I'd picked up on some minor skills that aided in profiling and otherwise, but at the end of the day I was still only a desk clerk. Sooner or later, I knew there would be a time where Agent Hotchner would inevitably tell me that I'd done a good job and could return to my menial day job.
So, even though Dr. Reid and I had gotten into a pretty regular, non-awkward rhythm, I was being a little more squirrely than usual.
And of course, he noticed.
"Y/N, are you doing alright?" he asked, looking up from his stack of paperwork. That was another thing we'd ended up doing— late into the night after everyone had gone home, we stayed late in the conference room and quietly filled out paperwork.
I barely looked him in the eye when I answered. "O—Oh, mhm. I'm fine."
"Oh... You just seem... a little different today."
On any other day I would have freaked out on the inside like a teenager, excited that he'd noticed me at all enough to notice a difference in my behavior. But that was his job after all.
"Actually, you seem rather... sad."
I did look up at him this time, and the soft glow of the table lamp lit up his features— features that looked me over with concern. I could feel my face grow warmer with every second I looked at him, until I quickly looked back down at my paper and shook my head.
"N—No, I'm okay. Promise. Just a little tired, that's all."
Usually he would have left it at that, given we didn't ever really have longer conversations than that that didn't pertain to whatever case the BAU was working on. But he pushed further, and I swallowed.
"Are you sure? Because... You can tell me if there's something wrong. I'm a good listener..."
Did I dare tell him what was really plaguing me? That I was scared I wasn't going to be able to spend time with him every day, thus most likely giving away my crush? That is, if he hadn't already figured it out by this point... Truthfully it wouldn't have surprised me.
The thought made me go warm again, and still, I kept my head down.
"I'm sure..."
And then I did something I probably shouldn't have. I looked back up at him, just a quick glance, but under his intense gaze I crumbled, flitting my eyes back down and playing with my hands.
"Is it... because of me?"
Afraid suddenly that I'd made him feel bad, I straightened a little. "No! No, not at all I... Um... I—I guess I'm just... A little sad that I'm probably... not going to be of any help to you anymore. You know, now that you're healing up."
A small smile flashed over his face, and I inwardly melted.
"Oh... In that case I... I guess I'm sad, too."
"Really?" I asked softly, my heart jumping.
"Mhm," he answered back in earnest. His features were softer than they'd ever been, eyes wide and kind, smile inviting... "You've been a great help. And you're fun to be around."
I couldn't help but smile shyly at his confession, completely bewildered that he'd think of me as someone he'd enjoyed being around, though I'd offered just about nothing interesting to any conversation we'd had. "Y—You don't mean that..."
"I do."
"C'mon, really? I... I—mean... coming from you that's... that's too generous."
He laughed a little. "How do you mean?"
"I... Well, y—you're you... I mean, you're... smart, and nice, and cu— uh,... n—nice..." I stumbled hard on that last one, squeezing my eyes shut at the thought of almost calling him cute to his face... And then I realized I'd called him nice two times... in a row.
I hadn't even realized he'd gotten up and walked over to me until I felt his cane gently tap my leg. I jumped, looking up at him and almost crumbled again right then and there. He stood over me, tall and clearly amused, and I wanted to just curl up and hide where no one would ever find me.
I also didn't want to be craning my neck so far up to see him, so I stood up, sending my chair rolling back a foot or two. The added height was better, but he was still fiarly taller than me, and with the way were standing so close to each other?
Maybe I'd made a mistake...
"I—I'm sorry," I stammered.
Still amused, Spencer tilted his head a small amount. "What for?"
"I... I don't know, m—making this awkward?"
"It's not awkward."
"It... It's not?"
He shook his head, quiet for a few beats before he nearly whispered. "What were you going to say?"
I paused. "I... What?"
"Before... You said I was smart. And nice... And... What else?"
It sounded like he was trying to get me to confess something, and quite honestly I couldn't tell if it was for humiliation or amusement or clarification purposes. I mean, it was probably safe to assume he wouldn't go out of his way to humiliate me, but... it still made me nervous.
"I—I didn't... I..."
"Y/N... Tell me?"
I'd been cornered. Quite literally, too, as my lower back hit the edge of the table. My hands shook anxiously at my sides as I contemplated what to say. The truth? Embarrassing for me. A lie? I was no good at telling lies, and I'd still end up embarrassed, because he'd be able to tell.
So, after a very long silence in which he waited on me to answer, I blurted out, as quietly as possible, "Cute."
The word sounded juvenile coming from my mouth. Right now, standing under Dr. Reid's intense scrutiny, it didn't even feel like the right word to describe him. Not that it wasn't true... But it just wasn't an elegant enough descriptor for him.
And that alone probably proved just how different we were. How out of my league he was...
"That's what I thought you were going to say," he mused, slightly breaking me out of my self-deprecation.
I would have asked him something then, anything to keep myself from looking like even more of a fool with a childish schoolgirl crush, but all words escaped me entirely. All I could do was look up at him, slowly growing warm under the intensity of his eyes and praying he wouldn't think of me as silly.
Though, it wouldn't have mattered, because he kept talking anyway, his body taking up even more space around me as his arms came around to well and truly trap me against the table.
"You're right, you know... I'm almost completely healed, and pretty soon I think I won't need an assistant anymore."
I was scared that maybe I was wrong before, and he'd actually humiliate me now, though the look in his eyes suggested otherwise. I wasn't sure what to make of all of it. SO I just stood there, trying to breath steadily as Spencer studied my face.
"And I meant it... That makes me sad. You know why?"
I shook my head, afraid to make a sound.
His head dipped lower, close enough that I could feel his breath on my mouth as he spoke. "I probably won't get to see you every day."
"Y—you want to see me?" I couldn't help but ask.
He scanned my eyes, amusement and something else lingering there as he did. "Yes."
And then he kissed me.
It was a short distance, but it felt like we went far. And I hadn't even registered that I whimpered into his mouth until he returned it with a low groan that boiled my insides and absolutely melted me. I was helpless against him as he pressed himself further against me and used his hands to keep my back steady.
The whole time my mind was swimming with dizziness. It felt like my body was covered in butterflies from head to toe, particularly strong where his hands pressed into me and his cane rested firmly along the inside of my thigh.
I leaned forward when he pulled away, because I was afraid that he was saying goodbye. But one of his hands came up to my face and my eyes fluttered open, immediately taking notice of how messy his hair was now that I'd had my fingers in it.
I must have looked scared, because suddenly his eyes changed, and he removed his hands away from me altogether, putting distance in between us. "I—I'm sorry. I shouldn't have kissed you without asking..."
The relief that rushed through my body must have gotten to my head, because I breathed out a demand I'd never have had the courage to get out before.
"Do it again."
One second I was staring at him, admittedly afraid that he'd regretted all of it, and the next I was seeing stars as he came forward and kissed me again. His hands cradled my face as he did so, coming on to me with gentle care while still maintaining that hunger that surprised and excited me.
I hadn't realized how much I missed his touch until he'd given it back to me, my body once again melting into him and allowing him to do whatever it is that pleased him.
Apparently that was lifting my leg off the ground and making me sit on the table.
My body went along with it easily, and I was glad for it because my brain was nothing but mush, unable to process fully how he'd decided that I was worth kissing. All I really knew was that I wanted him. Anything he wanted from me, I was willing to give. And that must have come across very clearly, because when he pulled away and spoke to me, I whimpered at his words.
"Y/N... You've been such a good girl, helping me with whatever I needed these past few months..." Meanwhile his hand danced along the hem of my skirt, the tiny brushes of his skin against mine sending me into a mess of shivers.
"I think it's about time I've thanked you for all your help, don't you think?"
The implications in his tone made me whine again, and I pressed my forehead into his, our noses brushing as I answered. "Please."
I was so taken by the way he groaned as his lips connected with mine once more that I almost didn't realize that his hand was now fully up my skirt, his fingers drawing gentle lines over my panties and practically making me melt again. His hungry kisses contradicted the softness he took to my clothed cunt, a fact that warmed me to my core and made me want him more than ever.
When he slipped the fabric aside and ran the pad of his finger through me, I whined hard against his mouth, something that must have excited him— He nipped at my bottom lip and took a deep breath.
"How long have you wanted this, Princess?"
If not for the kissing and the finger slowly sliding up through my arousal, the nickname would have done me in. By now I was an utter wreck, but I somehow still managed to answer, even through a little stammering. "F—Forever."
It was the best I could come up with.
He breathed a laugh as his finger circled my clit. "That's a long time..."
"Uh huh," was all I could manage in response. My body and my brain were too focused on the things his finger was doing to my body, involuntarily rolling my hips forward for more. I needed more.
Thankfully he picked up on my urgency and reciprocated with slipping his middle finger inside me, one knuckle, then two...
I cried out as my head lurched forward, connecting our mouths once again. My hands clutched around his neck and my fingers tugged at his hair to keep myself from falling, because the slow, searing pace at which he fingered me made me wonder how I'd still been able to breathe.
He added another finger soon enough, picking up the pace and rendering me practically useless in his embrace. Meanwhile I registered the sound of his own little whines, still deeper than mine but little enough to tip me off that he was enjoying this just as much as I was, and that alone helped get me further along in pleasure.
I pulled my mouth from his reluctantly, squeezing my eyes shut as I allowed my forehead to rest against his. "D—Doctor, I'm c... I'm so close."
"His honorific falling breathlessly from my mouth seemed to do something sinister to him, because his fingers sped up and his breathing got heavier.
"Yeah? You gonna come for me, Princess?"
My stomach tightened and I nodded as best as I could, relishing in the sounds coming from below us, wet and downright filthy.
"Go ahead...Be a good girl and come for me... You deserve it..."
Each little sentence was punctuated with a slightly faster pace, each one bringing me closer and closer until I squeaked into his mouth and shook violently around his fingers, my vision going white. My legs had been open wide since he'd started teasing under my skirt, but now they threatened to clamp shut from the intensity. But I wanted nothing more than to be good for him, to make this as easy as possible, so I held out and kept them open as wide as I could stand as my orgasm rocked through me.
Spencer whispered praises into my skin as his hand slowed and his mouth trailed down to my neck. And even though it was more than nice feeling him lick and bite over my skin, I felt rather sad when he removed his fingers from me.
That sadness didn't last long though, not when he pulled back and studied me for a moment, eyes lust-blown and purely ravenous before he brought his glistening fingers up to my mouth.
I didn't even have to think. I brought my tongue out and let him slip his fingers over it, closing my mouth around them and sighing as I sucked them clean. This only seemed to excite him more, his features displaying all sorts of desperation until he couldn't take it anymore.
He kissed me again, bringing both his hands to rest at my waist. And with his hands so low I wondered if maybe he'd take to ridding himself of his own pants, but it never happened. Rather, he pulled away after minutes of more kissing, and sighed quite sadly as his upper body pressed firmly into mine.
Something else pressed firmly against me as well—right along the inside of my thigh—and I gasped, mind running wild through all the possible outcomes of the night.
But Spencer only stood there, occasionally nudging his nose against mine while his hands gently kneaded my sides.
"D—Do you want to stop?" I asked softly, afraid he'd regret what we did.
He proved me wrong. "God, no... It's... It's just that I'm still not cleared enough for any... strenuous activity on my leg, and I don't..."
I didn't want to push him, obviously, but I thought I could make the mood a little lighter. "O—Oh, well on the bright side... I could stay your assistant for a while longer."
The laugh that rumbled in his throat made me smile, though from the way he stood there, I knew he wouldn't risk it.
"Um... Raincheck?" he whispered.
On the one hand, that meant he definitely wanted to see me again, and I was more than happy with that. But also, that meant our fun for the night was done...
Yet... Maybe not...
"Sure," I answered, pecking his lips once more. Then I brought my hand to his chest and slid it down until I reached his belt, and I leaned back to look him in the eye, a boldness I never imagined coming from me in a million years.
"But I can still help you..."
I watched the desperation and disappointment in his features slowly dissolve into a newfound hunger—and an amusement—that grew my confidence tenfold.
"Oh?" Spencer mused. "How do you suppose you can help me this time?"
He wanted me to say it. So, without second guessing myself anymore, I grazed my finger over his erection. "I'm very good with my mouth, Dr. Reid."
He grabbed me by the hand then, dragging me along to the chair I'd kicked back before and sat himself down, one of his hands still gripping the cane. Matched with the desire in his eyes and the swollenness of his lips and the tousled strands of his hair, the sight was truly something to behold. It was something that only ever existed in my dreams, nd now it was real.
Not wanting to waste any time, I sunk to my knees and nestled myself in between his legs. He reached out and caressed my cheek before lifting my chin with his middle finger.
"You like being my good little helper?" he drawled.
I tried to nod, but he clicked his tongue and held my chin in place. "Words, Princess."
"Yes. I—I'd do anything you asked. Anything you want, it's yours..."
He hummed then, removing his hand from my face and moving to undo his belt swiftly with only one hand. The action, the sound, everything... it was enough to make me wet again, and I subtly ground down onto the heel of my foot as I watched him pull himself free from the confines of his pants.
I didn't have time to marvel at him before I was drawn forward like a magnet, my hands crawling up his legs and my eyes batting up at him, ready and eager to please him however he wanted.
"Eager, are we?" he mused once more, gently stroking himself with his hand.
"Yes, Doctor," I breathed, inching closer and kissing the outside of his hand.
His movement stopped then, and it didn't take longer than a second for him to decide to let me work on my own.
"Then have at it, Princess..."
I started by kissing my way up the length of him, taking my time to gauge his reactions as I did so, occasionally darting my tongue out to taste him. Once I reached the tip, I sucked on it gently, using my tongue to swirl around it until I could taste the saltiness of his precum.
And then I started taking him slowly into my mouth, watching above me as Spencer's eyes started to shut, obviously debating whether or not to lay back and enjoy this or watch me intently.
Either way, I was more than happy to keep it up, finally getting him to the back of my throat. I flexed my tongue and held him there as long as I could, promptly gagging over him and blinking tears from my eyes as he let out a loudest sound I'd heard from him yet. His head flew back and his tongue quivered along his bottom lip as he cursed my name.
The act made me proud, so I retreated for air, sucked at his tip again for a few seconds, and then repeated it, taking him down my throat again and watching through teary eyes as he visibly swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Fuck, Y/N, you're so... Such a good fucking girl..."
The praise caused my insides to burn hot, and I ground down onto my heel again, lifting my mouth to start bobbing up and down.
His eyes opened then, and he looked down at me, using his hand to brush stray hair from my face and the other to grip onto his cane for dear life. I looked up at him the whole time, making sure to convey through not only my actions but also my eyes that I loved this. I thrived off of his praise, I enjoyed the feel of his dick gliding over my tongue and hitting the back of my throat, and I longed to feel him coat the inside of my mouth with his release.
I was so entirely into him in every capacity, it wasn't even funny.
I was so glad he could tell, a smile grazing his features as his hand gently gripped some of my hair. "So eager to please, Princess... And so fucking good at delivering..."
I whined onto his dick as he held me down, rendering me immobile. The only thing I could do was look up at him and choke, and of course, I was more than happy to do it. In turn, I was met with a deep groan and a tug of the hair.
"Hold it, hold it... Atta girl..."
My cunt throbbed at his words, and my throat continued to burn, tears falling down my face at ten-speed until finally, he let up and pulled me off of him.
I coughed a little and blinked away tears as I caught my breath, Spencer's fingers combing hair from my face as he smiled proudly.
He didn't even need to say anything then. I wanted to give him more. So I leaned down again and took him in my mouth, quickly making work of his tip while my hand came up and stroked the rest of him.
"Fuck, Princess, just like that... Make me come just like that..."
Rather than just continuing, I offered him a high whine and a wide gaze, hoping to exceed expectations.
I guess it worked, because he came right then, his dick pulsing over my tongue and in my hand as his warm release shot down my throat and over my tongue. I hummed around him, fluttering my eyes closed at the taste and the feeling, probably enjoying the fact that I'd done this to him more than I should have.
It was worth it to see the look on his face, though, after he'd given me all he had and I purposely spit some of it out onto the tip of his dick so I could lick it up and give him just a little more stimulation after the fact. His mouth hung open, eyes heavy and unwilling to leave me, even as I finished and sat back to wipe the tears and saliva from my face with a satisfied smile.
Though, the longer he looked at me, the more shy I became. Funny when I'd just had his dick down my throat, but I'd never been good with people staring at me for long periods of time.
"Was that... Was that okay?" I asked, suddenly worried I hadn't done something to his standards. "I know I don't do this a lot, so I'm sorry if it wasn't that g—"
"Y/N..."
I blinked up at him, still on my knees and unwilling to move. Not that I wanted to, but I couldn't even if I had.
"That was fucking perfect... I meant it, you're... so good."
I knew he was capable of better words, but after having the life sucked out of you, I could imagine 'better words' were hard to come by. Still, I laughed a little, playing with the hem of my skirt. "Good. I'm... glad I could help."
He smiled at me, readjusting his pants and then moving to help me off the ground.
"Hey, uh... Even when you go back to your regular job after I get better, I... I hope you know you're always welcome to come visit me if we're not busy."
The words warmed me in a different way, my heart swelling as well. "You... You mean that?"
Spencer nodded, grabbing my hand and dragging his thumb over my wrist. "Of course. I mean, you're more than just a good helper, you know. You're also kind, and smart, and cute..."
I laughed at his emphasis on cute, heat warming my face. "Ha-ha..."
"I really mean it, though," he said softly, removing his hand from mind and bringing it up to lift my chin, so I'd meet his eyes. They were swimming with sincerity, the epitome of warmth and comfort and kindness— the kind that always drew me to him in the first place. "And... If you'd want to maybe ditch the paperwork one day and grab a coffee or something, maybe—"
"Yes," I interrupted without thinking. My heartbeat picked up upon seeing the look in his eyes when I agreed, a mixture of amusement and relief. "Y—Yes, I'd love to."
"Good. Then it's a date?"
"Definitely."
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professor’s sweetheart
pairing: professor!tom holland x student!reader
summary: professor holland teaches british literature at your university. you hadn’t expected much when you signed up for the course, but the experience is everything and more than you could have hoped for.
word count: 15.1k
warnings: there is smut in here but it’s not the main focus (wild, i know)
notes: uh yeah i’d say just don’t fuck your professor? this is purely fictional. be safe, you know how it is <3
also she wrote a professor!harry styles fic, but if i hadn’t read that (over and over) i probably wouldn’t have been inspired to write this. so check out @songbirdstyles !
i listened to this playlist while writing it if ur interested :)
give me feedback please!!
“What class do you have next?” Your friend, and roommate Liz asked. You were both walking out of the cafeteria. It was 1:15, you had just finished lunch and you had fifteen minutes until your next class. You pushed the doors open together and braced yourselves as the cool late September breeze hit you, blowing your jackets open. You put both sides of the jacket together in front of you and crossed your arms to block the cold out.
“Um,” you thought back for a moment, the cold temporarily knocking your senses right out of you. “British Literature.”
If you were being honest, you had taken this course because it fulfilled one of your requirements, but in the end it felt like one of the most rewarding parts of your college experience so far. The material was interesting, and instead of being bored out of your mind throughout the whole hour and a half of class––it was actually entertaining. You had your professor to thank for that.
“Oooh,” Liz twisted her lips to the side to suppress a knowing smile, but the look in her eyes gave it away. “With Professor Holland?” She asked, batting her eyelashes innocently.
You rolled your eyes and bit your tongue to hide your smile. “Yes,” you shoved her playfully to the side making her step in a pile of leaves, the crunch under boots loud as ever as it carried through the crisp air. “Shut up.”
You and Liz had been roommates since your first year at university and had now spent four, coming up on five semesters rooming together. Luckily, you really hit it off, and easily fell into a routine together, forming a bond as you ate lunch and dinner together, studied in the library, had dance parties in your dorm, and more. You knew each other inside and out, often having random late night conversations while you procrastinated your work or couldn’t sleep, about literally anything and everything. Bottom line is, you trusted each other, which is why she knew about your sort-of-crush on Professor Holland.
To be fair everyone had a thing for him, he was just that kind of guy. He was sweet and compassionate and funny. Professor Holland was one of those genuine professors who sincerely cared about their students and their well-beings. He was incredibly understanding. He’d schedule dozens of meetings with his students all in one day just because he wanted to help and make sure they were all alright. He liked to check in every now and then, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.
From what you could tell he also seemed like a people person. No matter who he was with, whether it was a student, his teaching assistant Jacob, or his fellow professors––he was always attentive, cracking jokes, enjoying the conversation. Everyone seemed to love him. But you could also tell that a part of him was just a tad bit cocky, but in a joking and love-able way.
All this goes to show that you spent way too much time thinking about him, and observing him, which could either be seen as really endearing or really creepy.
“Look I’m just saying,” Liz shrugged, “Enjoy the class.” She nudged you, “I know I would.”
Realizing you were approaching the writing and arts center, and Liz’s next class was in the building across the street, you sent her off. “Yeah yeah, okay. Bye.” You tightened your arms around you and scurried off, skipping a crack in the sidewalk and walking up the steps to the building. You opened the door and were immediately welcomed by a rush of warm air and let out a sigh, rubbing your hands together as you made your way to the lecture hall.
You pulled your phone out and checked the time, 1:22. You still had 8 minutes to spare. You were still walking and only glanced up from your phone right as you were about to walk into the door and were stopped suddenly when you crashed into a hard chest. You immediately felt two warm hands grasp your arms to steady you and were suddenly enveloped by the smell of tea and mint.
“Woah! I’m sorry, love, are you alright?”
You froze as you looked up, feeling very much like a deer in headlights as you realized you quite literally crashed into your professor. “Oh––um,” you swallowed, suddenly feeling like the air was escaping you. You cleared your throat trying to save yourself from anymore embarrassment. “I’m fine––I’m sorry, that was my fault. I wasn’t looking––” You paused when you noticed the small smile on his face, his warm eyes making you forget what you were going to say.
“It’s alright, Y/N. It was partially my fault as well, I was too focused on––” he seemed to snap out of some trance, straightening himself up as his hands dropped back down to his sides and into his pockets. “Uh, well that’s not important.” He pulled one hand out of his pocket––he was wearing those blue slacks that you thought made his thighs look great, respectfully, of course. He checked the time on his watch and you had to stop yourself from ogling the veins in his arms as he did so.
He looked up at you, brows furrowed playfully and you actually had to remind yourself to breathe. “You’re almost ten minutes early. You that eager to see me?” He ended his question with a teasing smirk and your mouth opened and closed a few times before you managed to string together a response.
“I––um, I just really like this class and you––you’re my favorite professor.” You blurted out, your cheeks heating up as you realized what you just admitted. You had to force your eyes to go back to their normal size after they practically bulged at the realization of what you said. “And I mean, I just happened to get here early so...I thought I might as well get settled in.”
Your professor cleared his throat, trying to hide his smile as he glanced down at his shoes for a moment then back up at you. “Well then.” He extended his arm, pointing towards the open door of the hall and stepped aside. “Please, after you.”
You gave him a small smile in return along with a quiet thank you and stepped through the door. But before you could walk over to your seat, you felt him lean over behind you to talk lowly in your ear. He was standing a respectably close distance, but his presence was so overwhelming it was as though you felt him everywhere. His breath caressed the smooth skin of your cheek as he spoke.
“I’m technically not allowed to have favorites, but I do appreciate that you enjoy having me as your professor, darling.” It shouldn’t have had such an effect on you, really, it shouldn’t have. But something about him referring to himself by his title really did something to you. You took a sharp inhale as you stood up straight, your whole body on high alert as you turned your head towards him, your eyes refusing to look at his and instead finding solace in the fabric of his navy blue button up––which he’d rolled up to his forearms.
“And if it means anything, I rather do enjoy having you in my class as well.” You snuck a peek at him, lifting your gaze slowly and only caught a glimpse of his soft lips as he smiled before walking over to his desk.
You felt your heart pounding in your chest as you walked up the steps to your usual spot in the middle row, near the aisle. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, and the man hadn’t even touched you––well not in the way you wanted him to, anyway. But enough of that.
You checked your phone again, trying to calm down your heartbeat as you took in a deep breath, 1:28. People started shuffling into the class, the overlapping sounds of chatter and laughter rupturing the energy the room had when it was just the two of you. At 1:32 Professor Holland started the class, getting everyone’s attention smoother than anyone should be able to. You could almost feel everyone’s eyes focusing on him, some weren’t even listening to him, they were just so entranced by how good he looked and the way he sounded––his accent was just so endearing, you had to admit it.
The hour and a half went by rather quickly but today you were more aware of yourself, of Professor Holland––even more than usual. It seemed as though his eyes would travel to your direction more often, after he made jokes as if to see your reaction, or while he paused in his speeches.
At the end of the class, despite there being dozens of other students moving around you, you felt as though your professor was watching you as you made your way out of the room. But it had to be your imagination, there was just no way.
When you got back to your dorm, Liz still wasn’t back yet so you decided to take a shower and spend some time relaxing. You had already done your work for the next day and your other work for the rest of the week––well, you decided you’d do it later.
You changed into sweats after your shower and hopped on your bed, deciding to switch between your apps for an hour or so––honestly you’d lost track of time. Liz strolled in soon after, closing the door with a loud groan, throwing her bag on the floor.
You smiled, looking up at her from your lying position on the bed. “Hello to you too.”
She grumbled in response, finally looking at you. When she noticed you were already wearing your pajamas she pointed to you, her brows raised. “Good idea!” She immediately went to her drawers and picked out a random pair of sweats and an oversized sweatshirt, changing with lightning speed for someone who was sluggishly groaning not even a minute before.
She grabbed her phone and sat on her bed opposite yours, cross-legged, facing you. She looked at your face for a few seconds before squinting her eyes at you. “You have something to say. Spill.”
You rolled your eyes, a smile on your face.
She looked at you pointedly, “Well go on.”
So you told her about your encounter with the infamous brit today, how you bumped into him, what he said to you, the glances he sent your way. When you finished recounting everything you took a deep breath, “But––this could all just be in my head you know, just me overreacting.”
She stared at you with a dead expression. “Are you fucking dumb?”
“Hey!”
She ignored you, rolling her eyes while she tried not to laugh. “Dude he totally wants to fuck you.” She said nonchalantly.
Your eyes bulged, “W–What do you––What?”
“Oh please, it’s so obvious.”
You opened your mouth but when nothing came out, you paused and looked down at the carpet. After a few moments you looked back up at her to find her with a knowing smirk on her face. “Are you serious?”
“Of course I am, when am I not?” When you were about to speak, she interrupted you. “Don’t answer that. But look, it seems like he’s into you. I think you should hit that.”
“But we––that’s not allowed!” You paused, “Is it?”
She laughed, “A ha! So you do want to!”
“Oh shut up, you already knew that. Everyone wants to, it’s not a big deal.”
She made a face, “Yes, but you’re the only one who actually has a chance at getting it.”
You looked at her, a skeptical look on your face. “Even if that was true––he’s still my professor…”
She sighed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah but it’s not like it’s in the handbook or anything. Plus, you’re both legal adults, so. There you have it. You’re free to bone.”
“You did not just say that.”
“But I did.” She smiled, lying down in her bed. “You really could, though. Just don’t tell anybody.” When you didn’t say anything else, she spoke up. “Okay I’m gonna take a nap now. You have a lot to think about.”
You ignored the last part and went back to your phone, “Yeah you do that.”
Throughout the rest of the afternoon and night you couldn’t stop thinking about this whole situation. This was bad...Or was it? It seemed all too complicated, that was for sure. You weren’t even sure he looked at you or thought of you that way.
You fell asleep playing all the pros and cons of hypothetically getting with him, your mind an endless loop of your professor, his voice, how he sounded when he practically whispered that he liked being your teacher. This was all too much.
❊❊❊❊
All of your senses were in overdrive. All you could feel were the hands tracing every curve of your body, playing you like a toy they’d made themselves. The tongue, teeth and lips following and leaving marks everywhere the hands traced. All you could hear was that sweet, rough voice telling you praises and calling you endearing names as your whole body shivered from the pleasure. Your eyes locked in on the ones staring up at you with pure hunger and awe as you ground yourself down on his cock.
“That’s it darling, just like that. You’re doing so good for me.” His lips curved into that oh so familiar smirk. “I taught you well, didn’t I?”
You woke up sweaty, your shirt sticking to your torso, a wet patch on your panties, your nipples pebbled in the cool air of your dorm room. A sex dream. Of course you had a fucking sex dream about him. Fuck. You were just lucky that your next class with him was on Thursday so you didn’t have to see him today. Because that would not help you at all.
You checked the time on your phone, squinting at the brightness before turning it all the way down, 10am. You got out of bed with a groan and took your toiletries bag and your towel to the bathroom, deciding to take a shower this morning, instead of later on at night. Lord knows you certainly needed one. A cold one too.
You were frustrated, frustrated with yourself for feeling this way about your professor––sure, he was only a few years older than you, but it was the principle of the matter––frustrated that you were overthinking this entire thing, and most importantly you were annoyed because you were extremely horny.
When you got into the bathroom, you locked the door and set your stuff down. You put your hands on both sides of the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror. Who are we and what happened? You sighed and grabbed your toothbrush, brushing your teeth quickly and aggressively, since everything seemed to be a hassle this morning. You’d hoped that once you hopped in the shower, you’d calm down.
When you made your way inside, you sighed contently at the feeling of the warm water pattering against your skin, freshening you up immediately. Your nipples were still hard, between your legs still wet. So you brought a hand down between your thighs, the other to your breast as you stood under the water––almost as though the water was washing away the sinful act and thoughts right at the source. You laughed at the thought, nope, nothing can wash this away.
You squeezed your breast and tugged at your nipple, rubbing your sensitive bud just the way you liked. You were still sensitive from...your dream, so it didn’t take long for everything to build up. You couldn’t help yourself, your mind brought back the remnants of last night that you remembered, the way his hands gripped you when he steadied you, the way his arms looked, and you came with a whimper that was louder than you would have liked. You bit your lip, closing your eyes and resting your head back on the tiles as the water continued to fall on you.
When you came back to your dorm, Liz was on her way out but she stopped, raising her brows at you, “So have you come to a conclusion?”
You walked past her into the dorm, “Go to class, Liz.” You heard her cackle down the hallway as you closed the door.
You got dressed casually, not rushing since there was nowhere for you to go and decided to go to the local cafe near the school. You needed to clear your head and get some work done, and you definitely would not get any of it done in your dorm. Not today, anyway.
You checked the weather and seeing that it was a little warmer today, you put a sweatshirt on, grabbed your bag along with your phone and your laptop and you were on your way. The breeze felt refreshing this morning as you stepped out of your dorm. Your walk to the cafe was only ten or so minutes but it felt good.
Stepping into the little shop, you were immediately hit by the aroma of coffee and sweets, surrounded by the sound of light chatter and utensils clattering on the wooden tables. The warm light above you brought a sense of comfort as you made your way over to the counter. The line was rather short so you managed to order your usual drink and snack quickly. As you were waiting for the cashier to hand you your things, your eyes scanned the shop––the ambience was rather nice and the talking almost felt like background noises. You wouldn’t mind staying here to work.
As you gathered your things, you turned around in search of a free table––which would be the deciding factor in whether or not you would stay, you did not want to awkwardly share the small table space with some stranger. You took a few steps into the seating area and almost choked on your breath when you made eye contact with the last person you wanted to see today.
He smiled charmingly at you, teeth and all and quickly made his way over before you even had a chance to think of escaping. “Y/N!” He stood in front of you, his eyes bright. He was actually happy to see you? He was always happy to see everyone, it didn’t mean anything.
His voice snapped you out of your annoyingly loud thoughts. “Fancy seeing you here.” He nudged you playfully, “How are you?” He was wearing a very tight white button up that was unbuttoned until the third, showing a generous amount of his chest, a grey suit and pants, along with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. It took you a few more seconds than it should have to process that there were actual words coming out of his mouth.
You forced a smile onto your face but the more you looked into his eyes, the more genuine it became, almost impossible to wipe off. “I’m good. Was just grabbing breakfast before I start my work. You?”
He raised his cup, “Same as you. Have a bit of time before my next class.”
You noticed that you couldn’t tell what exactly was in the cup and your curiosity got the better of you. You pointed to the cup clasped in his fingers, “Is that coffee?”
He furrowed his brows in mock offense, “I only drink tea, darling.” He leaned his upper body forward to whisper to you, his cheek almost touching yours, “I’d think you would know that about your favorite professor.” He tutted playfully as he stood up straight again, watching you, a look that you couldn’t quite pinpoint in his eyes as he watched you over his cup, taking a teasingly long sip.
You looked up at him, your mouth slightly open, not a clue what to respond. When he pulled the cup away from his mouth he looked down at you, his gaze drifting down and you’d never felt more exposed, despite the fact that you were wearing two layers of clothing. “I like your sweatshirt.” He smiled, glancing down at it before looking directly into your eyes, his head lowered slightly.
Your eyes widened in surprise and your head snapped down to see your spiderman sweatshirt looking back at you boldly. Oh––Oh. You lifted your head back up to find him still smiling at you softly, he didn’t seem to be teasing you at all. “Um thanks.” You could feel your cheeks heating up, despite the cool air that swept your legs as someone opened the door to the cafe. “Are you uh–– a marvel fan?”
He pursed his lips playfully, “Yeah,” his hand came up to rub the back of his neck, “Yeah you could say that.” He licked his lips and took another sip of his drink.
Your eyes, with a mind of their own, trailed down the column of his throat, following the vein on the side of his neck, the way his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed the warm liquid. The action almost seemed provocative, in both meanings of the term.
Suddenly you felt very hot and you knew that you had to get out of there before you made a fool of yourself in front of everyone, but most importantly him. You perked up, “I uh––I have to go professor, but it was nice talking with you. See you tomorrow!” With that you quite literally ran off, wincing as you turned around, having noticed the way his lips parted as if to speak, a furrow between his brows appearing out of confusion and concern. You really had to get control of yourself.
You practically berated yourself as you speed walked away. God, that was so stupid. And not to mention, incredibly rude! He’d probably be upset with you now, or maybe even mad. It’s just––unbelievable what he did to you, without even actually doing anything. It took you the entire walk there to realize that you unconsciously made your way back to your dorm––so much for the library. But you’d had enough social interaction for today, so you decided you’d stay there.
You got in your bed and buried yourself under the covers, deciding you needed the comfort of being hidden in your mattress after the embarrassment you’d just experienced. You lied there just staring at the plain, white ceiling for way too long until you let out a loud huff and sat up, before grabbing your computer to start your work.
Deciding to check your college email before you started, since they were incessant and it was easy to miss something, you scanned down the list of messages in your inbox. Your eyes skimmed through the boxes on the left of your screen, notifications that your professors left feedback on your assignments, the weekly newsletter, club events, a message from Holland, Tom––
You shut your computer immediately, eyes bulging as you held your breath. You swallowed thickly, as you stared into nothing in front of you, your eyes barely taking in anything, your mind a big ball of fuzz.
After taking a few deep breaths, and telling your overdramatic brain to calm down, you opened the laptop again. Biting your lip, you hovered your mouse over the message, reading over the small bits of information you could see in the preview.
Holland, Tom
Just checking in
Hi Y/N, I just wanted to make …
You could feel your heart beating through your chest. Oh God––Wanted to make sure what?? The sensible part of your brain said to just open it to figure it out for yourself. But the irrational, idiotic part of your brain was yelling at you to not open it under any circumstance. What if he wanted to make sure you didn’t get the wrong idea? Did he know how you felt about him? Were you that obvious? Maybe he thinks you’re clinically insane and wants to make sure you’re getting the attention you need? You did run off like a crazy person, after all.
You shut your eyes tight and groaned loudly into your hands. Liz walked in and whistled lowly, taking in everything in front of her. You looked up, confused and looked at the time, realizing it had already been two hours since you first left the dorm, meaning she was done with her classes for the day.
“What’s up?” She took a seat at her desk, propping her legs on the table as she leaned back.
You waved her off, deciding it would be best to let this blow over and ignore it for now. You’d go back when you were in the right state of mind.
She started telling you about her day and annoyingly, your brain decided today would be the day that it would not shut off. Your brows were furrowed as you tried your best to focus on what your friend was saying, but she wasn’t even looking in your direction, staring up into the air above her as she spoke animated, hands waving around, so she didn’t even notice you struggling to pay attention.
Your eyes kept flitting back to the screen of your computer, your fingers swiping across the trackpad to turn it back on when the screen’s brightness lowered every now and then.
Liz looked back at you and stopped her spiel. “Alright what’s up with you?”
You sighed deeply and looked up at her. “Sorry, sorry. I just––I saw Professor Holland today––”
“Already?” She interrupted you, a goofy smile on her face. “Damn, you work fast.”
You threw the nearest pillow at her, “Shut up! I didn’t fuck him.”
“You should’ve.” She pointed out, holding the pillow to her chest.
You glared at her until she raised her hands in surrender, then continued, your eyes bouncing from object to object in the room as you babbled.
“I went to the cafe and I saw him and he came over to me and we started talking––and he whispered in my ear and he was joking around with me and he sipped his tea and he was super close to me and super hot, and I couldn’t handle it so I basically ran off without giving him a chance to say bye.” You took a deep breath, “And then he sent me an email after I saw him and I still haven’t opened it because I’m scared and I don’t know what he said…” You took another breath and looked at your friend, blinking as she just stared at you.
After a moment, she spoke up. “Dude just open the email.”
Your eyes widened almost in offense. “Did you not listen to anything I just said?”
“Yeah you practically fucked in the cafe then you got scared and ran away.” She spoke nonchalantly and you could tell she was fighting off a smile. “Look, eventually you have to open the email anyway, you can’t just ignore it. So just do it and rip the bandaid off.” You were about to speak up when she interrupted you, “I promise it won’t be half as bad as you think. We both know your mind is absolutely filled with the craziest ideas.”
You huffed and fell back down on the bed, not bothering to argue since you both knew she was right.
“Shit, I’m starving.” She looked at the time, “Yeah it’s about time for me to eat food.” She stood up, “Come on, let’s go.”
“Can you please get something for me?” She knew you well enough that you didn’t have to tell her what to get. You gave her your best smile and shrugged your shoulders.
“Are you serious.” She looked at you, deadpan, standing like the little emoji of the woman standing in place with her arms at her sides.
You had to suppress your smile, “What if I see him?” You asked incredulously, lying further in the covers. “I’d rather stay in here and hide, for now.”
“You have class with him tomorrow––”
“That’s why I said for now.”
She cracked a smile, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her things, “You’re ridiculous.”
“Love you!”
“Yeah yeah,” she waved her hand and walked out the door.
A few moments passed after Liz left and you sat up yet again, putting your computer on your lap as you swiped the trackpad, making the screen light up again. You checked the time, it had been almost an hour since he sent the email, you really shouldn’t make him wait any longer. Not that he’s waiting at all, he probably didn’t even notice that you hadn’t responded.
You inhaled and exhaled slowly, swallowed your nerves and clicked on the email.
Holland, Tom
Just checking in
Hi Y/N,
I just wanted to make sure everything was alright. You seemed kind of stressed when you left earlier and I’m hoping it wasn’t because of anything I did. Can we check in tomorrow in my office? Hope everything is going well.
Warmest Regards,
Professor Holland
He wanted to meet tomorrow after class. In his office. Alone.
Oh, fuck. You could hear Liz in your head going Yes, fuck. But you quickly shoved her aside.
You read over the email about five times to make sure you weren’t misinterpreting anything, because that would be even more embarrassing. You clicked the reply button and slowly wrote out your response.
Hi Professor Holland,
Everything is fine, but thank you for asking, I appreciate the concern. I’m free tomorrow after class if you’re available then.
Thank you!
Y/N
You hit send and not even two minutes later, you received a response.
Hi Y/N,
Perfect! I’ll see you then :)
Warmly,
Professor Holland
How on earth were you supposed to focus on your work now? More importantly, how were you going to focus in class tomorrow?
❊❊❊❊
The next day, the butterflies in your stomach would not calm down. When you stepped into the class, he was talking to another student and you tried to sneak past to your seat unnoticed. You thought you’d succeeded but once you sat down and looked up, you made direct eye contact with him and you swear you stopped breathing. You barely even recognized the sound of everyone moving around you, getting ready for class to start.
He parted his lips and reluctantly turned back to the student still talking to him, snapping out of his daze, but not after glancing back at you. You swallowed and sank down in your seat. This was going to be a long class.
At 1:35, class started. Professor Holland stood up and clasped his hands, making his way to the middle of the floor in front of everybody, his voice reverberating through the room.
“Good afternoon everybody. Hope you’re all doing well.” His eyes found yours and you bit your lip nervously. You could see him swallow as he watched you, before moving his gaze elsewhere. Was that because of you? Surely, it had to be a coincidence. Maybe you made him uncomfortable. Oh great––
He went on, seemingly unfazed, eyes darting back to you subtly before continuing. The discussion soon turned to the book you’d just been assigned to read. The book was rather lengthy but there were always so many things to talk about within only a few pages––which you loved, so it was taking you all a while to go through everything together in class.
The conversations often took up a lot of the class time since Professor Holland simply loved talking and he always found everyone’s interpretations interesting and worth exploring––eager to hear our classmates perspectives. He also often said that he was not good at using technology, so he preferred to just talk and show rather than use his computer. Honestly, you found it endearing.
The conversations were always interesting to listen to, people never failed to give you insight on things you hadn’t even thought of before, but sometimes––some people were just a little stupid.
Someone brought up a slightly sexist point that made absolutely no sense but since you weren’t the one to call someone out in front of a room full of people, you stuck to your facial reactions instead of audibly responding. You turned back to the front of the class to see Professor Holland’s opinion to find that he was watching you, trying and failing to suppress his smile.
He put both hands in his pockets which you found ironic considering they would jump out any time soon––he loved to talk with his hands. His eyes got serious, the smile on his face a little less friendly as he addressed the sophomore who made the comment. “I don’t know if you’re aware of how ludicrously sexist that comment you just made was, but now you know.” He turned to the rest of the class. “Remember to think before you speak. This isn’t to necessarily call anyone out. It’s a warning. Senseless remarks will not only affect my view of you, but your grades as well.”
He went on and tried to shape the boy’s comment into something appropriate to discuss and you honestly couldn’t focus on anything else he said, you were just looking at him in awe and in shock. Sure, this was the bare minimum, but since it was so rare to see, it was very noticeable and even impressive when you noticed it.
God, you adored this man.
Near the end of class, he announced the next assignment, a paper you’d have to write about a comparison you made between any point in the story, a character, a theme, a hidden meaning, etc. and something in our modern reality, a social norm, a popular belief, etc. Your essays were always very open ended in this class, giving you room to write about almost anything you wanted to. Your professor knew that the assignments would be more enjoyable if there was some choice involved. He truly was good at his job.
“Look, reading’s hard sometimes, I get it. I’m dyslexic, so trust me, I understand. But I never let that stop me.” He paused to look around the room and it was so silent you could hear each other’s inhales and exhales. The power he had over a room full of around one hundred people was insane, and in a weird way, also turned you on. “I know the book is massive. Listen to the audio books if you have to, I don’t mind. But get the work done either way. It’s not for me, it’s for you. I want you to get the best grade you can in this class.”
“Bring me interesting material. I don’t want to fall asleep reading your work.” He joked and smiled proudly when laughter filled the room. “The essay is due in two weeks. Good luck.”
There were a few thank you’s and goodbyes scattered around the room as he sent everyone off, people scurrying from all sides to the exits.
You took your time gathering all your things and took a deep breath when the last few people made their way out, silence soon surrounding the both of you. You put your bag over your shoulder and walked down the carpeted steps, suddenly finding the dark grey pattern to be the most interesting things you’ve ever seen––and also watching your steps so that you don’t fall down them in front of him. You could barely hear the soft patter of your shoes as you walked down. When you finally got the main floor you looked up and saw him waiting for you patiently, things in his hands, a smile on his face.
“Let’s go then, shall we?” You nodded shyly and he led the way, his office only a hallway away from the lecture hall. You found it slightly odd that he didn’t try to make conversation on your way there, since he always loved to. But you tried not to think too hard about it. Maybe he was just tired.
When you reached his office, he opened the door and let you walk in first. Your eyes immediately scanned the room out of curiosity as you stepped inside, noticing his desk, the wood a dark mahogany which was covered with stacks of papers, picture frames, pens, and a few marvel funko pops––so he really was a fan. You’d never actually been inside of his office before. It was an intimidating thought for you to be in his office with him, alone. You just didn’t want to embarrass yourself.
You turned to him and gestured to the chair across from his desk, “Do I just––”
“Please,” he interrupted eagerly. “Make yourself comfortable.”
You took a seat and he set his things down next to his desk before sitting as well. His hair was coiffed to perfection today, curls sculpted nicely, a dark blue suit on his body with a black shirt underneath. He took off the suit jacket and put it on the back of his chair and you could see his veins and muscles bulging and shifting in his arms as he moved. He clasped his hands in front of him on the desk and wow he had nice fingers. You really had to get a grip on yourself––
“How was class today for you? Well, besides that one disappointing comment.”
You smiled, “I always enjoy the class, but yeah that was uh, disappointing as you said.
“I think your interpretations are always very insightful and very interesting. It’s almost a shame that you don’t share them with the whole class but part of me likes it that we keep them between us.” Oh? “Plus, I know how scary it can be talking in front of all those people. I almost shit myself first time I taught that class––”
You let out a surprised laughter and he couldn’t help laugh as well.
“Shit, sorry! I mean––” He sighed, “Language, sorry. I’m British.” He shrugged, “Can’t help it.”
You shook your head, “It’s okay. Personally I think curse words spice up conversations.” You smiled proudly when he laughed at your joke.
His smile radiated a more nervous energy after his laughter died off. “When you ran off yesterday, that wasn’t––was that because of me? Because if I did something to make you uncomfortable I’m so sorry.”
You tilted your head, trying to think of a way to explain. “No it wasn’t, well––it kind of was?” You had no idea why you would tell him this, but apparently your mouth was moving without agreeing with your mind first.
There was almost a pout on his face and you had the sudden urge to reach over the table and smooth it out with your lips. “It’s just, well––You make me just a little bit nervous, to be honest professor.” You looked down at your lap and back up at him timidly.
He raised his brows, “Oh––”
Your smile was strained and you wanted nothing more than to be swallowed whole by the floor.
“Well that’s not a bad thing, is it?” He looked at you almost, hopefully?
You laughed, “No trust me, it’s not.” Your eyes widened at the realization of what you’d basically just admitted to him and you didn’t know if you should feel embarrassed or relieved when the smirk appeared on his face.
But the words that he uttered next cleared that up for you. “Well, if I’m honest, you make me nervous too, darling. And definitely not in a bad way.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, almost teasing you with how good he looked.
You licked your lips, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, crossing your legs, your thighs squeezing together, and he definitely noticed, his eyes trailing down your body as he licked his lips as well.
The tension in the room was so thick but you found that you didn’t want to escape it, if anything you wanted to carve your way through it, stay for as long as you could until it snapped.
Your professor spread his legs, his hands coming down to rub at his thighs as he watched you and the sound of your heartbeat pounding filled your ears. It was almost as if there was an unseen force pulling the two of you together, but before it could there was a knock at the door.
The both of your heads snapped to the door to find it opening slowly. Jacob, Tom’s teaching assistant popped his head in. You had talked to him a few times, he was always very nice. He didn’t attend every class, but you guessed that he would be attending the next one. “Hey man.” He turned to you and smiled, “Oh hi Y/N.” You waved and let out a small hi in response. He turned back to the professor. “Your next class is starting like––” He looked at his watch. “Now.”
“Shit, sorry man. Lost track of time.” He got up and you did too, smiling sheepishly as you grabbed your things, getting up from your seat. “I’ll be right there.” Jacob nodded and closed the door.
You both made your way over to the exit slowly, still reeling from what maybe could have happened and what you both obviously thought of. The silence was loud around you, but it wasn’t scary this time.
“Let me know if you need any help with the upcoming assignment, alright? Don’t be afraid to stop by if you need to.” His gaze dropped down to your lips for a split second before reaching your eyes again. “For anything.” He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t describe but quickly tried to mask it with a smile as he opened the door for you, his eyes practically holding yours captive.
“Thank you, professor. I will.”
You stepped out and he watched you for a few moments before closing the door. You looked back, smiling as you caught his eye and as soon as he stepped back in the office, you practically ran out of the building and to your dorm, a stupid grin on your face.
“Holy shit.”
❊❊❊❊
When you practically burst into your dorm room, scaring Liz half to death before you told her what happened, let’s just say she wasn’t surprised in the slightest.
“I fucking told you!” She flopped onto her bed, still staring at you pointedly as she did so, a smirk on her face. She pointed at you before dropping her hand down dramatically by her side. “You like, owe me a soda now or something.”
You rolled your eyes but you were so giddy the smile still hadn’t dropped from your face. “Well I do owe you for getting me lunch yesterday, so maybe I will buy you one.”
❊❊❊❊
Over the weekend, you started working on the essay for British Literature and you were already about halfway done since the topic you chose actually interested you. But you found yourself questioning if you were writing it properly as you went on. You weren’t sure if it was because you wanted it to be near perfect since you’d found out he paid extra attention to you, or maybe you just wanted to talk to him again––you’d never know.
After discussing with Liz, you decided you’d stop by his office on Monday afternoon once you were done with your classes. You knew he liked to stay in his office until late at night sometimes, he always said we could stop by whenever, if we needed something. So you decided to take advantage of that, shoving down your anxious thoughts and doing what you wanted.
Liz may or may not have convinced you to wear a shirt that was––aesthetically pleasing, to put it, specifically in the chest area so you were more than eager to see your professor’s reaction. You were a little nervous, you didn’t want it to seem like you were trying too hard, but you thought you looked good in this shirt, and you had a right to feel good about yourself. Since it was a little chilly outside, you hid it under a sweatshirt for now.
You got to his office and found yourself staring at the dark wood, hesitating to knock on. After taking a deep breath you rapped your knuckles against the door.
You heard a faint Come in! And you took a deep breath and opened the door slowly to find him sitting at his desk, “Hi Professor Holland.” He was finishing some notes on a student’s essay but his head snapped up immediately at the sound of your voice.
He dropped his pen and sat up, “Please,” he motioned to the seat across from his desk and you smiled gratefully before settling down. “What can I do for you? Everything alright?”
His eyes looked sincere and concerned and you could feel your insides melting a little bit.
“I just––I really want to do well on this essay,” He nodded for you to continue, “But I’m just not sure if I’m going in the right direction.”
He nodded understandingly, “Well let’s have a look, shall we?”
You reached down to grab your things when he stood up and walked past you, your eyes following him in confusion. He gestured to the couch, a somewhat impish smile on his face. “Just thought it would be more comfortable––and easier for us to look together, of course.”
You nodded, a small smile on your face as you picked up your bag and sat next to him on the couch. “Right, of course.” It was a loveseat so there wasn’t much room for either of you to distance yourselves.
You got out your computer and opened up the essay. You had already opened it before you got there, not wanting to have to awkwardly wait for it to load. Yes, you overthought things but––it helped sometimes. “I see you came prepared,” he joked and you couldn’t help but smile. He really did notice everything, didn’t he.
“Well I’m really confident about the topic of my essay, I think it’s interesting. But I feel like I may be adding too much into the paper, and I’m not sure if I’m overthinking things or if I should take some things out.”
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. I meant it when I said I appreciate having you in my class, you know. I always love reading your work. You write well.”
“Thank you, professor.” Though you saw his eyes darken at the title, he commented on it.
“You can call me Tom when we’re alone, darling. No need for formalities.”
“But I like calling you professor––” Your hand shot up to cover your mouth and you spoke before he could, ignoring his smile, “I mean um. Tom––Okay I can try that.”
His tongue passed under his teeth, a devilish smirk on his face as he watched you squirm under his gaze. “No you know, now I think professor is growing on me.”
You pursed your lips, rolling your eyes. “Prof––Tom.”
He raised his hands in surrender, “Alright alright.”
“Why don’t you read it to me? It’s easier to see where you can improve when you hear it out loud.”
You swallowed nervously, nodding your head as you brought your laptop closer to you. “O––Okay.”
You started reading your paper out loud, voice becoming slightly steadier as you went on, two fingers scrolling up the trackpad. He made comments as you read, only praise––and with each compliment you felt yourself getting hotter. Very good. Always write so well. Nice point there. Mhm. Good girl, that’s an excellent point. He shifted his way closer to you gradually as you read on and when his thigh touched yours, you had to tell yourself not to jump from the contact.
He placed his arm on the back of the couch, basically around your shoulder and you had to smush down the urge to throw your computer and climb into his lap. His thighs did look very inviting with the way he was sitting, though.
He moved closer to you and you could feel his breath cascading down over your shoulder as he brought his hand to the trackpad, his arm over your thigh, fingers scrolling through to where he had a few suggestions.
When he finished his few remarks, you could hear the proud smile in his voice. “See, I knew it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought. You’re a good writer...” He paused and you turned your head slightly to find his lips mere inches from yours, his eyes trained on your mouth. His words were barely a whisper when he spoke up again, “A good student.” You both leaned in slowly and his hand came up to hold your cheek lightly. “Bet you’d be a good girl for me too.”
You gasped lightly and leaned forward, giving in and finally pressing your lips to his, both your hands grabbing his jaw. He moaned immediately, his body pressing into yours as you twisted to face him, his other hand coming around your waist to pull you in. You felt your laptop slipping off your thighs and squeaked, making the both of you laugh and pull away, flustered.
“Careful, love.” Tom grabbed the computer and put it down on the floor gently, confirming that you saved your work before pushing the lid closed.
The air in the room was hot, thanks to Tom in general, but also thanks to what you just did. So you pulled away and couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Tom’s pout when he thought you were getting up to leave. Since there wasn’t much space on the couch, you stood up to take your hoodie off and you heard his breath hitch when his eyes fell upon the shirt you were wearing. “Christ-”
“Now what’s this?” Tom said almost to himself, his eyes staring at you in wonder and awe. “Never seen this little number before.” He noticed the clothes you wore? His hands were already aching to feel you again, reaching out for you subconsciously and you bit your lip to calm your smile as you sat back down, letting your sweater fall to the floor softly.
“What, this old thing?” You joked, looking down at the shirt––yeah, you looked good. “You like it?” You looked up at him, a cheekily innocent look in your eyes.
He put his hands around your waist and pulled you into his lap, enjoying the gasp it elicited from you. You put your hands gingerly on his shoulders and the way he was looking up at you made you never want to leave this position ever again. You tilted your head and licked your lips and Tom couldn’t take it anymore, he kissed you again, hands gripping you firmly, anchoring you to him. He pulled away after a good while, wanting to look at you again, his lips parted, practically panting like an animal. You really had an effect on him, but he did the same to you.
His eyes were taking you in, basically capturing a mental image for later. “God, you look heavenly, darling.” You squirmed in his lap and bit your lip when you felt a bulge growing underneath you. He leaned forward and left a trail of kisses on the tops of your breasts, leaving a few teasing nips and sucks here and there. You squealed, your hands coming up to run your fingers through his hair. You pulled his head up by his hair and the look in his eyes looked absolutely feral––like he wanted to eat you.
You were about to lean in and kiss him again when a knock at the door surprised the both of you. You both jumped off of the couch as Tom threw out excuses. “Yeah just a second!” You straightened out your shirt as Tom did the same to his pants and you picked up your things.
When he saw that you were settled, he took a deep breath and answered the door. His colleague and best friend Professor Osterfield, was standing there, a grin on his face. “You div, are you ever going to be on time for our monthly meetings?––” He stood up straight when he noticed you standing behind Tom. “Oh, I didn’t know you had company.” He looked between the two of you and it seemed as though he pieced everything together. Maybe Tom had told him about you? If he did, you wouldn’t be worried Tom didn’t seem like the type to tell unreliable people his business––and they were best friends after all.
You smiled at him in acknowledgement as moved aside to let you pass. “Sorry,” you looked between the both of them, “I’ll let you get to whatever you have to go to.” You looked at Tom once you were out of his office, “Thank you for the feedback, professor.”
You could see him fighting off his smirk before he replied, “Of course.” His stare was impenetrable as he looked at you, “Feel free to come by whenever.” You could see the hidden meaning in his words and let the hint of a smile show, before nodding and walking off.
Harrison looked at him, a pitiful smile on his face. “I hope you know what you’re doing, mate. You should be careful, for the both of you.”
Tom sighed, not wanting to have this conversation. “I know, man. Let’s go.”
❊❊❊❊
You found yourself missing Tom as soon as you left. God, this was kind of pathetic. But at least your feelings weren’t necessarily one sided––he did say you made him nervous too after all. You doubt he’d say that if he just wanted to fuck you––he was better than most men. And sure you might be a little biased, but at the end of the day he had a good heart and he was educated. So bonus.
When you stepped into your dorm, your roommate was sitting on her bed, snacks in hand as she looked at you expectantly. “Now these,” she gestured to the food on her bed, “are either for a story time, to rebuild your energy or both.”
You laughed and changed into your pajamas, starting to tell your best friend about everything that just happened. She often interrupted with her reactions and comments.
Oh. My. God.
Shut. Up.
You’re fucking lying!
“But we didn’t fuck.”
“Boo––”
“Yes, boo.” You laughed, “Professor Osterfield knocked at the door and dragged him off to a meeting so.” You shrugged.
“Professor Osterfield...is that the hot blond one?” You nodded and she continued expressing her feelings for the man. “I’d let him teach me a few things––”
“Literally bye.”
She laughed, “What? Come on have you seen him––”
“I’m a little preoccupied with another professor to be honest.”
She nodded, handing you a bag of chips as you settled in your bed. “True. And oh how lucky you are.” You smiled in agreement.
❊❊❊❊
Today was the day the essay was due and though you normally handed it in at the beginning of class, for once, you didn’t and you could feel Tom’s gaze following you as you walked up the steps to your seat without so much as a glance in his direction. You’d stopped by his office a few times over the past two weeks since Harrison interrupted you, but you never did anything more than kissing and grinding. You were both too scared of getting caught, but that doesn’t mean you hadn’t thought about doing more in there.
Tom liked to have physical copies of the essays, just in case technology decides it’s against him (his words), so everyone had until 8pm tonight to drop it off by his office. You were definitely going to use that to your advantage.
You didn’t wear anything provocative to class, you didn’t really want that kind of attention today, plus you knew that Tom’s interest in you wasn’t solely based on your appearance. So you put the revealing items on under your clothing. And honestly, the thought that no one knew what you were wearing underneath it all only excited you even further.
You crossed your legs, relieving your tension and biting your lip as class went on, enjoying how flustered Tom would be every time he looked at you. You felt so submissive when you were alone with him, but when you were in public like this? Free to tease him subtly from a distance? That’s where you had all the power.
You had him blushing and stuttering throughout the whole class, though it wouldn’t have been easy for everyone else to notice, for you it was so obvious. He kept rubbing his hands together, pacing around as his eyes darted to you every few minutes. At one point he went over to sit down at his desk, which he rarely did while teaching––and you were fairly certain it was to hide a bulge in his pants. All thanks to you.
In the middle of the class, you felt your phone vibrate in your bag and pulled it out just to see if it was an emergency. You were pleasantly surprised and could feel your whole body react when you noticed who the message was from.
Tom: Having fun, are you?
Your eyes shot up to the front of the room and you bit your lip to contain your smile when you noticed him glaring at you.
Y/N: I always have fun in this class, professor ;)
You put your phone away afterwards and focused on the class, knowing it was killing Tom that you weren’t giving him more attention. Your heart was racing and your panties had a wet patch by the time class was over. You had a feeling he was going to try to keep you after class, so you hurried up and gathered your things, sighing in relief when a few students went up to his desk to talk to him.
You smirked to yourself and headed straight for the door, your head high on your shoulders. But just as you were about two feet from the exit, Tom spoke up.
“I assume I’ll be seeing you later, Miss Y/L/N?”
You turned around, eyes slightly widening as you noticed him, the group of students near him.
He smirked slyly, “To turn in your paper, remember?” His eyes were giving you a knowing look.
You swallowed, nodding as you smiled at him innocently. “Of course, professor.” You enjoyed the way his eyes darkened only slightly, only noticeable to you. “See you then.” With that you walked out.
❊❊❊❊
You practically skipped to his office at around 7:45, before knocking at the door, four knocks in a specific pattern––the code you’d made together.
“Come in, darling!”
You walked in and quickly shut the door, a chuckle escaping you. “You know someone could hear you from the outside one day, right?”
He shrugged, “I’ll just blame it on my accent. Could call everyone darling, they don’t know any better.”
You laughed. “Okay well––Professor Holland,” you said, loving the way he looked at you when you uttered his title. “I brought this for you.” You took out the printed essay and placed it on his desk.
He pushed his chair out, his eyes following your every move as he spread his legs. “Oh is that right?”
You took the invitation and took your reserved seat in his lap, linking your arms around his neck as you looked down at him. “Mhm, still want a good grade in this class you know. You are my favorite professor after all.”
He smirked smugly, licking his lips. “And you,” he kissed your lips before pulling away briefly, “Are my favorite girl.” He brought his hands up your back and pulled you into him as he kissed you again. This time, longer and deeper, wanting to feel you as much as possible. “Teased me so much in class today.” You smiled into the kiss and he continued, “Almost wanted to take you over my knee right there in front of everyone.”
You moaned audibly and he brought his hand up to your neck, gripping you softly but firmly, giving you room to pull away if you didn’t approve. When you leaned further into his grip, he grinned and pulled you closer. You started grinding down on him, basking in the desperate groans and sighs you were coaxing out of him, the way his movements became more frantic as he bucked into you.
After debating with yourself in your head for a moment––struggling to think properly with his hands all over you, you got off of his lap and smiled at the small whines of protest he let out before reaching for his belt. You made eye contact with him and noticed how wide his eyes were, hopeful, hungry, but hesitant.
His hands reached for yours, “You don’t have to, darling. If anything I should be doing this first. God knows I’ve thought about it.”
You pouted, trying your best to ignore his words and focus on the task at hand. “But I want to,” you kissed his cheek, “I wanna make you feel good, professor.” He nodded, barely able to speak.
“Yeah? You wanna be a good girl for me?”
You nodded eagerly, licking your lips as he pulled himself out of his trousers. “More than anything. Wanna make up for earlier.” You got down on your knees, mouth practically salivating at the way his member stood tall against his abdomen, his tip leaking with precum.
Your hand wrapped around him just as a knock sounded at the door. Professor?
The both of your eyes widened, the both of you looking around for some sort of answer before he ushered you under the desk, tucking himself back in hastily, pulling his chair as much as he could and sitting at the edge, hiding his unbuttoned and unbuckled pants. Luckily for the both of you, the back of the desk reached the floor, so whoever it was wouldn’t be able to see you hiding underneath. “Uh––Come in!”
The person walked in and you recognized the sound of her voice, she often spoke up in the lectures. You couldn’t remember her name, though. You do, however, remember that she often spoke up only to get Tom’s attention. You’d heard her gush about him in the halls just outside his class in the hopes of him hearing her. You couldn’t blame her, but the thought still irked you. “I just wanted to give you my paper. I hope it’s not too late.”
Tom checked the time on his watch, 7:58. “Nope,” he laughed breathlessly, trying to compose himself, “Not too late at all, in fact just in time.”
She handed her paper to Tom and he gave her a tight-lipped smile, trying his best not to think about the fact that your hands were trailing up his thighs and that he could feel your warm breath hitting the exposed part of his member––he really hadn’t payed attention when he tucked himself back in.
Before he could send the girl who’s name you still hadn’t remembered off, she took a seat across from him and he swallowed nervously, a little frustrated since he was so close to getting his cock in his girl’s mouth.
It seemed that you somehow read his thoughts because as soon as the girl kept talking for another two minutes, you pulled his member out and stroked him, licking up his shaft and he tensed, taking every ounce of self control he had not to look down at you. His hand reached down and held your cheek gently, just wanting to feel you. You nuzzled into his palm and he had to bite his lip to suppress his smile, not wanting the student across from him to think his endearing expression was meant for her.
You honestly completely tuned out all the words she was saying, your sole focus pleasuring Tom. But you didn’t miss the flirty and falsely innocent tone in her voice. You couldn’t see her but she was no doubt batting her eyelashes at him as well.
When she made a comment about how good his shirt looked on him, you couldn’t help yourself, you sucked his tip into your mouth with no warning, making him groan unexpectedly. You paused, eyes wide and playful as your mouth stayed around him.
“Are you okay professor?”
He let out a strained smile, “Yes, Emma, Sorry––” So her name was Emma. “I just uh banged my knee on the desk.”
She hummed a small okay and went on.
He caught your eye, trying his best to keep his expression neutral, but boy was it hard. Especially when you were looking up at him like that, with his cock in your mouth. You licked around his tip and lowered your mouth around him and he had to force himself to focus on the girl who was still talking to him.
You were not playing fair but quite frankly you didn’t care. You were making him feel good and yourself too. Your hand was pumping him, your tongue swirling around him as quietly as you could, while your other hand found its place between your thighs.
In the middle of Emma’s speech, Tom’s eyes drifted down and widened, his breath getting caught in his throat when he noticed your other hand, moving between your legs. He stuttered out an excuse, unable to tear his eyes away from you for a moment, “Uh, Emma I’m so sorry––I just have so much work to do, but feel free to come back––” he paused to swallow when you sucked harder around him in reaction to his invitation. “Come back next week if you have any problems or anything else you’d like to discuss.”
She hesitantly but respectfully said goodbye and was on her way, closing the door behind her.
Tom’s hands immediately shot down to hold your head, his mouth dropped open as he watched you, approaching his high. “Shit, that’s it darling that’s it. So fucking good for me.”
“I’m gonna cum––” he warned. You simply hummed around him and sped up your movements, feeling yourself clench as he panted, his hips bucking slightly as he came into your mouth. You unfortunately weren’t able to cum but you were sure there’d be other chances. You popped off of him and swallowed his load before licking up his length teasingly slow. “Fuck, such a good girl.”
He pulled his chair out and brought you up to stand between his legs, tiling his head to look up at you, his hands rubbing up and down the backs of your thighs absentmindedly. “Was someone a little jealous?”
You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant but failing to fix your annoyed facial expression. “Maybe.”
He tucked himself back into his pants and stood up, chuckling as he squeezed your cheek. “I’m yours.” He pecked your lips, before looking in your eyes, “And I’m most definitely repaying the favor when we get home. I mean––if you want to, of course.” Home.
You couldn’t help but smile, “Yeah––Okay.”
You’d never been to Tom’s house before so this felt like sort of a big deal to you, but you were going to try and calm your racing thoughts and heart. You and Tom agreed that you would go around the corner of the building for him to pick you up in his car, not wanting to risk anyone seeing you.
As soon as you were settled in, seatbelt on, Tom drove off and honestly the thrill of having to hide was exciting to the both of you. His hand was gripping your thigh throughout the whole drive and you could tell it was meant as a reminder that he was there for you, but also that he could barely contain himself.
Seeing Tom drive you, the flashing street lights illuminating his face, highlighting his jawline, his hand gripping your thigh––this was a sight you knew you wanted to see more. The intimacy of it all made you warm inside and the feeling of Tom’s fingertips digging into your skin only riled you up further.
You leaned over to kiss his cheek and he smiled at the feeling of your soft lips drifting over his skin. “Darling––” His words were cut off by a harsh moan when you trailed your lips down to his sweet spot, the noise almost too loud for the quiet, tense air in the car.
You teased, licked and bit at his skin, not afraid to leave marks. It was Friday now, if anyone saw them on Monday, they would just assume he’d had an eventful weekend. Honestly, the thought that no one would know that you were the one who left those marks excited you––it would be a secret between you and Tom, a thing for the two of you to share on your own.
Tom’s hands were now gripping the wheel and your thigh with force, trying to get his bearings. “You’re being very naughty today, love. Can’t say that I don’t love it though.”
You smiled sinfully into his neck, continuing your actions. Your hand slid over his thigh teasingly slow to rest on his bulge, fingers squeezing ever so softly and he practically jolted in his seat. “Christ––love unless you want me to crash this car I suggest you stop.”
You pulled away, satisfied with how much you’d riled him up. He almost whined at the loss of contact, subconsciously upset that you’d actually stopped. But as your hand reached back down to find its place between your thighs, his tone shifted.
“Don’t you dare touch what’s mine. That’s my job.”
You actually felt a shiver pass through your body and you squeezed your thighs together at the sound of his dominant voice, excited for what was to come.
When you made it to his apartment, you barely had time to take in the scenery and take off your shoes and jackets before he dragged you to his room. But from what you saw, the decor was simple but elegant, much like Tom. His bedroom was the same, but again, you weren’t too focused on it.
He turned on the dim light in his room, wanting to be able to see you as he pleased you. He stepped closer to you and placed his hands on your waist, looking deep into your eyes. “You still want this?”
You nodded absolutely certain. “Want you to take me.”
His pupils dilated and he pulled your shirt up and over your head, licking his lips, eyes widening when he noticed what you were wearing and you couldn’t help but smile.
“Christ, were you wearing this all day?”
You nodded again. “The underwear’s matching too. Wanna see?”
He got down on his knees, a teasing but desperate tone to his voice. “You’re a smart girl, don’t ask stupid questions.” He unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down along with your socks, mouth dropping open as he got to see the full set.
You ran your hands up and down your body teasingly as he stood up. “Do you like it?”
He shook his head, smiling in disbelief, “Again with the silly questions, love.” He leaned in to kiss you, pulling away to take off his clothes. “You look like a goddess, darling.” You could feel your skin heating up from his words and his stare. He pulled you in for another kiss before bringing you onto the bed.
You lied down in the middle and spread your legs, waiting for him eagerly as he lied down between them. “Can’t fucking wait to taste you, love.”
He pulled your panties over to the side and licked into you, his tongue softly swiping through your folds. His eyes rolled back as he moaned into you, “Taste just as perfect as you look.” He slid his hands around your thighs and pulled you in closer, smiling at the small squeak you let out.
His tongue was exploring you, finding all the spots and all the tricks that made your toes curl and your breath hitch. He was keeping this all to memory, memorizing the way you feel, the way you look. When your breaths quickened and your fingers tugged at his curls, he locked his arm around your stomach, slid one, then two fingers inside of you and sped up his movements, moving his head from side to side as he hummed onto your clit.
Your body tensed and you held onto him for dear life as the knot in your stomach gave out, the pleasure spreading all throughout your body. Your mouth dropped open in ecstasy, your neck craning back and Tom couldn’t look away from you. You looked like a painting and he wanted to commit it to memory.
He let go of you and kissed his way up your body, soothing you with his lips. Your legs were still twitching slightly, your stomach clenching and unclenching when his kisses reached your cheek. “Look so pretty when you come for me.” He kissed along your jaw, “Can’t believe you’ve deprived me of such a beautiful sight for so long.” He kissed your lips and tugged your bottom one between his teeth, before looking at you, eyes wide, “You gonna give me the privilege of seeing it again?”
You smiled, your hands coming up to hold his cheeks. “You can see it whenever you want. As long as you’re the one making it happen.” You pulled him to you and kissed him, the both of you moaning into the small gaps between your mouths.
He started to pull away but you whined and pulled him back making him smile. “I’ve gotta get a condom, love.”
He tried to get up again but you pulled him back down, “M’on the pill Tommy.” You looked up at him, pouting and he almost gasped––the effect you had on him was insane. “Just fuck me please.”
He didn’t need anymore convincing, grabbing a hold of his cock and swiping it through your folds, groaning out loud at how good your wetness felt. You bucked your hips and realizing you were getting desperate, he finally slid into you and all your senses immediately tuned into him.
Just like your dream––All of your senses were in overdrive. All you could feel were the hands tracing every curve of your body, playing you like a toy they’d made themselves. All you could hear was that sweet, rough voice telling you praises and calling you endearing names as your whole body shivered from the pleasure.
His eyes were watching your face, taking you in as he thrusted into you, making sure you were enjoying everything he was giving you. You felt absolutely amazing and so did he. “So perfect for me, darling. That’s it.” He bit his lip and sped up, making your jaw drop as you stared into his eyes, completely open and vulnerable to him. His touch was tantalizing, even better than your fantasies which only meant you’d become more addicted to him and what he could do to you.
He grunted, angling his hips when he found your spot, hitting it over and over, bringing his hand down to play with your clit. “Told you I wanted to see you cum again, pretty girl. So you’re gonna cum then I’m gonna fill you up. That sound okay?”
You nodded eagerly, eyes watching his every move as your hands gripped his arms, your thighs burning invitingly as they stretched around him with every thrust. Then you uttered that one word that always had him almost inappropriately weak for you. “Want to be full of you, professor.”
His jaw slacked and he paused for a slight moment before picking up his pace, faster than before, hips chasing after both your highs, fingers still rubbing you just the way he learned, just the way you liked. “Fuck-–”
A few more thrusts and flicks of his wrist and you were tensing under him, your pussy clenching around him as he let out broken curses and moans, losing his rhythm and releasing into you with a groan.
He rested some of his weight on you for a moment, the both of you smiling and laughing breathlessly as you took in the moment. Your hands came up to play with his curls and he sighed, leaning into your touch. He lowered his head into the crook of your neck and left a few soft kisses, coaxing some sighs from you as well.
After a moment, he rolled over and took you with him, making you nuzzle further into him, his arm wrapped around you, your leg slung over his waist. His hand was rubbing up to your ass and down to your thigh, lulling you to sleep while simultaneously riling you up again.
He kissed your forehead and you kissed his chest in response. “That was fucking amazing, love.”
You nodded and hummed in agreement, “Even better than my dreams.”
He pulled back to look at you, you could hear his heartbeat quicken and you tried to hide your face in his chest. “You had dreams about this too?”
That made you lift your head up to look at him. You could see in his eyes that he wasn’t joking but you were still slightly shocked. “Too?”
He smiled, licking his lips, “Well maybe we should discuss them, and try them out for ourselves.” His hand found its way between your legs again, making you moan but that didn’t stop you from responding.
You nodded, “For research purposes, of course.”
“Of course.” He grinned, “See, I knew I taught you well.” He leaned in to kiss you deeply, “My girl’s the perfect student.”
You spent hours exploring each other's bodies as you reenacted your dreams, both exceeding each other's expectations every time. By the time you fell asleep in each other's arms, it was late at night and you were sweaty, and tired, but overwhelmingly pleased.
❊❊❊❊
The next Friday, it was halloween. Liz had somehow convinced you to go to a halloween party with her. On top of that it was a frat party. And even worse, you dressed up as a school girl because it was all last minute and you didn’t have any time to get a costume.
“Oh come on Y/N, you look hot!”
You turned in the full length mirror to look at your ass that was almost visible in this mini skirt. “You think so?”
“Duh.”
And that’s all the convincing you needed to go out. You needed a little college fun. You hadn’t been to a party in who knows how long because you were always focusing on your work. You deserved this. Also Liz said it was a celebration of your “lay”, yes, she said lay.
“I’m just saying you cannot let me get with him again.”
“Liz it’s literally his frat house that we’re going to and we both know you have little to no self control.”
“Well damn. You couldn’t have sugar coated it?”
“What, you want me to throw a packet of splenda on you?” You joked.
She shoved you, “Dude shut up,” she laughed.
You looked down at your bare thighs that were only partly covered by your thigh high socks and rubbed your arms, regretting not bringing a jacket when Liz spoke up again. “Oh shit, is that Professor Holland?”
Your eyes shot up and made direct eye contact with him. He was wearing a hoodie and some sweats but he still looked great as usual. His eyes trailed down your body and soon your shivers were no longer because of the cold.
“I’ll just wait here.” Liz said suggestively and you walked over to Tom.
“H–Hi.”
He put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to touch you, he didn’t know who was around. “Well hello to you too.” He looked into your eyes, a smirk on his face. You rubbed your arms quickly for warmth, and Tom had to control himself to not look at your chest, even though he could see your nipples hardening from the weather through your shirt. He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms and take you home.
“Any plans?” You asked.
“No, I'm just about to go home. I’m uh guessing you have somewhere to be?” His eyes traced your figure again.
“Yeah um me and Liz are going to a frat party.” You pointed back to your friend and gave him a small smile and shrug. “She convinced me.”
He wanted to kiss you so bad but he had to restrain himself.
“Be safe tonight, yeah?” His eyes were comforting, as they always were, but this felt almost more personal? Almost like he didn’t want you to go. And honestly, after seeing him, you almost didn’t want to either. You never defined your relationship with him, so honestly right now he was like a friend with benefits––professor with benefits, if you will.
You nodded, licking your lips nervously. “O––Okay. I will. You be safe too!”
His eyes followed you as you walked off, your friend pulling you along, obviously whispering to you, probably about him. You looked so fucking good and everyone else was going to see that too. It’s not like he owned you or anything, but part of him really wished he could claim you, openly care for you and be affectionate. His thoughts were a mix of wholesome and raunchy and he had no idea how to act.
He almost felt wrong but he couldn’t get the thoughts out of his mind, the way you looked up at him sheepishly, the innocent look in your eyes while you were wearing that mini skirt. His cock was bulging in his boxers ever since he first laid eyes on you. When he got home, he made his way to his bed, undressing almost immediately. Lying down in the middle of the bed, just where you were days before brought a flood of memories into his mind, only making his member throb even more. He tugged at his cock, spitting in his hand to make it slick.
Images of you were flashing in his mind as he sped up his movements, desperate for a release.
He was dying to get a taste of you again. The memory of the way you felt under his fingertips, the way your muscles clenched when he hit the right spots. The way you tasted when you were dripping onto his tongue. The way you looked at him when you came, your lips parted to release broken moans and whimpers. The way your fingers gripped his curls as your body tensed. It was all enough to make him spill over his hand, his breaths coming out in quick pants as his head dropped back onto the pillow.
“Fuck.” He really had it bad for you.
❊❊❊❊
Tom had texted you during class on Tuesday to meet him in his office when you were done with classes for the day. When you stepped into the room, he locked the door immediately, bringing you over to his desk, his lips chasing yours. Screw worrying about people hearing you, he wanted you. Now.
“God, just seeing you in that tight little costume––you have no idea how badly I wanted to ravish you. The thought of all those dumb frat boys seeing you in all your glory like that––I was absolutely beside myself.” So that’s what this was about. His hand came up to hold your cheek, his eyes fiercely staring into yours and you nuzzled into his touch, your hand holding his wrist softly and his eyes softened at the sight of you.
“I’m gonna absolutely devour you.” You gasped and he smiled, pulling your pants along with panties down. He sat you down on his desk and got down on his knees, licking his lips. “As soon as I got a taste of you, I knew I wouldn’t be able to go without it ever again.” He kissed your thigh, looking up at you. “You gonna let me have a taste again? Wanna make you feel good, lovie.”
You nodded, swallowing roughly, “Y––Yeah. Yes please.”
He chuckled breathlessly, “Such a polite little thing you are.” He kissed his way from your inner thigh to your center before licking a torturously slow stripe from your hole to your clit. You let out a sigh and gripped the desk, your fingertips becoming lighter at how hard you were already holding it.
His hands held your thighs open, putting them over his shoulders, holding you in place. His tongue was languidly licking you up and down, savoring your taste and your moans, coaxing them out of you one by one, nonstop. He looked up at you and your breath got caught in your throat, the look in his eyes fierce, almost as if he could see your bare soul and he clearly liked what he saw. He brought his lips to close around your heat after every other swipe of his tongue, passionately kissing your heat.
“So fucking good, angel. Always the best for me.”
You nodded, licking your lips, one of your hands coming to grab at his curls, making him growl into you. “Only for you, Tommy.”
He didn’t stop his tongue or his lips until you came, your back arching, fingers frantically grabbing for whatever you could hold, lip trapped between your teeth to muffle the moans that so desperately wanted to escape into the quiet air of the room. He kept going until you had to pull his head away from you, overwhelmed by all the pleasure and scared that you would scream and alert everyone in the building about what you were up to.
His hands were caressing your thighs, eyes looking at you in awe, almost too innocently for what you’d just done. He stood up between your legs and leaned in to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue and his lips.
He pulled away to look at you, hands holding your hips as your legs wrapped around his waist. You brought your arms up to link around his neck, looking up at him appreciatively and absolutely spent. “So do you think I should wear school girl outfits more often?”
He laughed, his hands holding you tighter, “If you do, my head is never leaving between your thighs.”
You smiled cheekily, batting your lashes at him. “Promise?”
He’d never gotten down on his knees quicker in his life. Let’s just say it took you another hour before you left his office.
❊❊❊❊
Over the past few weeks it had become a routine for you to go over to Tom’s office to seemingly “work on your assignments and review,” so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to show up unannounced Friday afternoon. Without meaning to, though, it seemed you showed up a little too early, and ended up overhearing part of Tom and Harrison’s conversation.
“I can tell Y/N means a lot to you, mate. Don’t lie.” Your heart dropped to your stomach as you skidded just in front of the door, about to turn the corner inside. You backed up and stayed pressed to the wall. Luckily no one really stopped by this side of the building at this time on a Friday, so no one would find you snooping around in the middle of the hallway.
“No I just––”
No. He said no––Okay you weren’t going to freak out. This always happens in the movies, and then the main character runs away before hearing the most important part and they overreact. So you decided to just...wait it out.
So you waited and waited. And the more the silence overwhelmed you, the louder it got. You could feel the tears starting to form in your eyes because you really thought your feelings were mutual. But just as you inched your foot backwards to walk away, he spoke up again, his voice quiet.
“She means everything to me, man. I––It scares me, honestly. I just don’t want to mess it up.”
This time the tears fully formed in your eyes, but for the absolute opposite reason. You smiled and wiped at your eyes, not even bothering to hide anymore as you turned the corner, surprising Tom, his eyes widening as he took in your appearance. Harrison turned around to see you and his gaze filled with concern as well.
“Tom––” your voice was quiet but there was a smile on your face.
“Darling––” He rushed over to you and grabbed your hands, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs to catch the few tears that escaped. “What’s wrong, are you alright?”
Your hands came up to hold his wrists as you looked into his eyes, “I heard you talking.”
His face dropped in realization and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
Harrison cleared his throat and subtly made his way out, “You guys have some things to discuss.” He put a hand on your shoulder and you both smiled at each other appreciatively before he walked out, shutting the door behind him.
Tom took your hands and brought you over to the couch. “I hope I didn’t scare you off, love.”
You shook your head immediately, even climbing in his lap to prove him wrong and he smiled gratefully. “No! It’s just that we never really talked, you know, about us.” He nodded and you took that as a sign to continue, enjoying the way his hands subconsciously slipped under your shirt to rub at your skin soothingly. “I like you Tom, obviously. But I like you a lot.” You linked your hands behind his neck. “I think I might be falling for you.”
His eyes started tearing up as well, as he smiled, “Yeah well, I think I’ve already fallen for you, darling.”
You looked into his eyes and your smile brightened, “Okay maybe I lied––I’ve definitely already fallen for you as well.”
You both laughed lovingly, pulling each other in for a sweet kiss.“Look,” Tom started, licking his lips. “I don’t know what this means for our future, but all I know is I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon.”
You kissed his lips softly, “Well I don’t plan on leaving any time soon either.”
“Good.” He looked at you and you felt as though your soul was out and open for him to hold and love. “Cause you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Y/N and I don’t ever want to lose you.”
You could feel your eyes tearing up again. This felt good. This felt like home.
#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland imagine#tom holland oneshot#tom holland fic#tom holland fluff#tom holland smut#professor!tom holland#professor!tom holland x reader#tom holland angst#for a sec tho lol#professor!tom holland imagine#professor!tom holland fic#professor!tom holland oneshot#professor!tom holland smut#professor!tom holland angst#professor!tom holland fluff
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I‘d love to see you write an angsty fanfic with Natasha x reader (male or female is up to you) with a bad ending of your choice.
No pressure of course ✨
as requested Violet!! I hope it's okay<3
How could you do this to me?
Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Summary: Natasha hasn’t been around recently and Y/N’s been really missing her company, but that changes when some CCTV footage is discovered.
Warnings: Cheating, swearing.
Word Count: 3.6k
there was an attempted proof read, but sorry in advance if i've missed anything!!
message/ask to be added to the taglist<3
Requests are open!
You weren’t surprised when you woke up to an empty bed once again, the space beside you missing a red-head assassin. You’d grown used to the sight of bedsheets spread lazily on your side of the bed, almost completely thrown off of the edge. It wasn’t unusual, however, the feeling of disappointment that lingered in your chest every morning never eased with time.
‘I’m just off to train, baby.’
‘I need to go and see Fury about this next mission, you go back to sleep’
‘I forgot to debrief the team last night, so we need to have a meeting this morning instead.’
‘Off to get some breakfast, my love. I’ll save you some eggs.’
Those were the typical reasons you received whenever you questioned where she was going in such a hurry in the mornings. You knew she was busy, of course you did. But, you missed the mornings when she’d pull you back into her chest, refusing to let you leave until you gave her a few kisses, which never ended up just being kisses, but you always gave in either way.
Now that you think of it, you can’t remember the last time she held you. Not properly. She used to hold you in a death grip, so tight that you could almost feel her heartbeat in your own chest. Nowadays, you were lucky to get more than a few taps on the back, it felt like you were being congratulated for something.
You’d always brushed it off, thinking that you must’ve been selfish for wanting so much of her attention, you had to be more understanding of how demanding her job is. It wasn’t like you never tried, you did, everyday. It would just be nice to feel her love for you a little more, even if it was just a quick peck before she left in the mornings.
“Hey Wan’, Hey Vis” You smiled at the pair as they stood at the kitchen counter, cracking eggs and buttering some toast. They loved cooking together, Wanda always told you how cute it was when Vision was trying to learn, especially after his fiasco with the Paprika.
“Hi Y/N, want something to eat?” Wanda handed you some toast, which you took gratefully, slowly munching on it.
Vision looked up as though to engage in conversation, when he then looked around in confusion. “Where’s Ms. Romanoff?”. You shrugged.
“I’m not sure, I think she’s training, I’ve not heard from her yet.”
You were looking at Vision, but it was near impossible to miss the sympathetic look Wanda was giving you. She knew about how you’d been feeling with Natasha not being around so much, she had tried to help, to hint to Nat that you’d been feeling a bit neglected for a while now, but she hadn’t gotten very far.
“Nat, nat, I just think that maybe you should spend a little more time with Y/N” It was obvious the assassin wasn’t listening to her, shrugging it off and trying to walk past the witch, only to have a hand pressed on her chest to push her backwards.
“Wanda, I need to go, I'm running late.”
“you’re always running somewhere. I'm sure Fury, or Tony or whoever you’re in such a rush to see, can wait. You haven’t seen your girlfriend in forever.”
“I saw her last night.”
“Crawling into bed in the early hours of the morning and sleeping next to her, isn’t seeing her, Nat.”
Her words fell on deaf ears as she watched her friend turn around and walk the other way. She could’ve used her powers to stop her, she didn’t see a point though. She wasn’t listening, and she couldn’t force her to.
“It's fine though, honestly! I can hang out with you guys today if you’re not busy?”
the couple shared a look of awkwardness before looking back towards you.
“Actually, we were going to go into town and do some sightseeing. You’re welcome to join us though!” She smiled, not wanting you to be alone, which you were grateful for, but you couldn’t intrude.
“No no, don’t worry! I think I've got something Tony wanted me to check out in the Lab, now that I think about it.” You didn’t. “You guys have fun though! take pictures!” You winked, knowing full well that your best friend didn’t believe you, she hesitated before nodding her head in agreement and beginning to walk off with Vision in tow.
__________________
An hour or so went by, you still hadn’t seen Natasha at all, or anyone, really. They all seemed to have disappeared to do their own thing, leaving you to find yours. So, you found yourself wandering into your lab, where you found Tony observing the screens with an endless amount of data changing every couple of seconds. You never really understood how he made sense of it all so quickly, but you’d always been intrigued nonetheless.
He must’ve sensed someone was there, as he broke away from his train of thought and glanced over towards you, fully acknowledging how your shoulders were slumped and your eyes lacked your usual sparkle. Tony alway had a soft spot for you, he’d known you for years, taking on a role similar to a father’s. Seeing you look so defeated recently, it’d hurt him a little more than he cared to admit.
Gesturing for you to come in with a gentle smile before moving and adjusting various chunks of metal on the table in the centre of the lab.
“Ah ah!” He tapped the bridge of his nose
“You can’t be serious! Tony I-”
“Nope”
“I’m a grown woman!” You laughed in disbelief at his
“Yes, you are, and I do not plan on taking said grown woman to medical because she got a shot of electricity through her eyeball. Put them on.”
You rolled your eyes, picking up a pair of the obnoxiously large lab goggles and put them over your face. He really took being a ‘father figure’ too seriously sometimes. With your goggles on, you took yourself over to where he stood, hoping to help him out somehow and keep yourself occupied.
You watched him move around blueprints on the screen above. “So, whatcha working on?”
“Well, remember that last mission we went on? How that ended?”
“Well, considering I had to get bullets removed for the last two hours, I’d say I remember pretty well.”
His face cringed slightly “Yeah, that’s the one. I’m basically just trying to layer the suits more, but keep the weight to a minimum so that there’s more protection, but the speed and mobility is almost, if not, the same.” He pondered, mind wandering off again to try and figure out how he could make this work.
Suddenly springing to action, he started assembling some pieces together, chucking some aside and reaching for different tools he required.
Looking towards you, he tilted his head “Can you pass me the-”
His sentence was interrupted. “Hey Tony, hey-” Banner. You didn’t mind Bruce, he was always quite quiet and polite most of the time, a little awkward, but, when you have a literal Hulk inside of you, it’s probably the least of your concerns.
You waved at the Avenger. “Hi Bruce” You gave him a friendly smile, for it to be returned with an awkward gaze, which he tried to quickly shove off.
“Yeah, uh, hi, Y/N. W-what brings you here?”
“Oh, no particular reason, I wanted something to do so I thought I'd come down, just pay a visit.” He nodded, acknowledging your words but appearing a little on edge, almost.
“Hey, you okay?” You asked “You look a little pale?”
“Yeah, yeah n-no I'm fine, just a-a bit tired.” He stuttered before suddenly directing his attention towards the man standing beside you. “How’s it coming along, Ton’?”
“Not bad, I have a wonderful assistant to help me out.” he nudged you playfully.
“Haha, yeah. She’s great. Anyways, you seem to have a good hold on things, so, I’ll leave you to it and come back later.”
Neither of you had managed to get a word out before Banner had walked out and was already out of sight. You turned to face Tony again.
“Was that- did you find that weird at all?”
“I find most of the people in this compound weird.”
It was a serious question, but you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the millionaire’s response.
“I do pride myself on it.”
“As you should. You’re the weirdest one.”
“Hey!” You slapped his arm. “Rude!”
“I’m kidding! Now, pass me that screwdriver, goggles.”
Chuckling, you threw him the screwdriver and zoned out thinking about Bruce’s weird behaviour. While Tony was right, the majority of us are weird. You couldn’t stop thinking about how unusual it was, even for him. You put it to the back of your mind though, focusing back on what the man beside you was working on. You’re sure it’s fine.
________________________
You thought you were going crazy. First you had Nat, who was disappearing every chance she got, Then you had Bruce who couldn’t look you in the eye and when you finally believed it couldn’t get any weirder, you picked up on some strange vibes from Steve.
“Oh finally! I was beginning to think no one else actually lives here.” You approached Steve who seemed to be walking and talking with Bruce, both taking a step back when they looked towards you.
“Hey Y/N, we were just-”
“We were just about to go and have a shower. Training.” Steve cut in, earning himself a glare and a shake of the head from the scientist beside him, subtle, so you hadn’t noticed, otherwise you would’ve questioned it.
“Oh? You were training too, Bruce?”
“Well, I-” He glanced at Steve. “Yeah. Yeah, I, uh, wanted to get some combat down, just in case I needed it.”
“Considering our last mission, I think we all should.” the super soldier quickly added, sending you an enthusiastic smile, which you had returned. You went to speak again, possibly inquiring as to whether or not they knew where your girlfriend was, but you hadn't had the chance as the pair of them quickly rushed off, muttering something about catching you later, leaving you on your own, once again.
What the hell was going on?
_____________________
Feeling defeated, you trudged your way into your bedroom, just wanting to shower, get into bed and sleep, and hope for some form of normality.
What you hadn’t expected, was to walk in and see the back of a familiar figure sporting the black suit she practically lived in, tying her hair into a low bun and beginning to change into some more comfortable clothes.
You were dating, so it wasn’t new to see Nat changing, but you still thought it would be decent to make her aware of your presence. The small “ahem” was enough to make her spin round and flash you a smile, her pearly white teeth on show.
“Hi babe, i’m just changing for bed. You okay?”
The words felt so unfamiliar to you, having not heard them in what felt like forever. Still, you decided to humour it.
“Yeah, yeah I'm okay. A bit of a weird day is all.”
She laughed, returning to laying out her clothes. “Well, we are surrounded by some weird people.”
“That’s what Tony said.”
There was an atmosphere in the air that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It had always felt comfortable with Natasha, you would describe her company as being like a safety blanket, enveloping you with warmth and a sense of security. This felt different. It didn’t feel familiar anymore, it was like you were face to face with a stranger and the more you looked at her, the more it upset you.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Natasha put her palms on your cheeks, bringing your Y/E/C eyes to meet her emerald ones in the process. You hadn’t realised that tears had fallen until the pad of her thumbs gently brushed them away.
“I just, it sounds so stupid.”
“Tell me.”
You let out a sigh, eyes beginning to dart around the room. “It just feels like I’ve never seen you, I don’t remember the last time we’ve spoken and it’s, it’s been lonely.” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your response, lips falling into a frown, but you were quick to speak again.
“It hasn’t just been you though, I understand that work gets in the way, but, it felt like some members of the team were acting differently around me.”
“Really? Like who?”
“Well, I mean, Bruce could barely bring himself to say anything more than a sentence to me and I tried to speak to Steve just before I came here and he rushed off like his life depended on it. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being a bit paranoid.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing, Detka, I wouldn’t worry about it.” She whispered, hands pulling you forward with ease to bring your lips together. You smiled at the contact, you’d missed it.
You were so caught up in it, that you hadn’t noticed you were the only one smiling.
It wasn’t long before the both of you were interrupted by an electronic voice in the room.
“Miss Romanoff, Miss Y/L/N.” It was F.R.I.D.A.Y. “Mr Stark is asking for you both in the conference room.”
“Alright, thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y., we’re on our way.” Your girlfriend replied, rushing away from the kiss and leading you to the door.
Why was everyone in such a rush today?
_______________________
“So, I was messing around with some things in the lab, and I think I've found a solution to our suit issue. It’s still a work in progress because I'll need to tweak some things and then tailor them blah blah blah, but I thought I'd show you guys the latest. JARVIS?”
“Bringing up footage 182.”
While you waited for the video to be up and running, you took note of everyone sitting around you. For the most part, they looked tired, though you don’t blame them, it was pretty late.
Shuffling to your left, you held Natasha’s hand in yours, sending her a loving gaze before resting your head on her shoulder, just content that she was close by. She sat a little straighter at the action, careful not to push you off of her, but not entirely relaxing either.
The large tv screen lit up, a view from the corner of the lab came into sight where you could see Tony installing different wires and pieces of loose metal into the suit, watching it light up as he did so. He was in the middle of explaining what he was doing as the recording went on, when the screen suddenly turned to static, black and white lines taking over the screen.
“JARVIS?”
“Minor technical issue, working on it, Mr Stark.”
You caught Wanda’s eye across the table, a playful smirk plastered onto her face at the mishap, watching the billionaire get stressed over a television. You couldn’t help but laugh at the words flying from his mouth as he started hitting the remote, as if he was someone who didn’t understand technology.
It wasn’t long before an image appeared back on the screen, however, this wasn’t the same recording. This is from the gym. It focused on one of the square mats in the middle of the room where two people were sparring. One of which, you immediately recognised as Natasha.
The other person definitely wasn’t a girl, their hair was short and muscles so big you were worried that one slice would be the end. It zoomed in a little, and from the blonde hair and dark blue outfit, you pieced together who it was.
“Oooh, Black Widow and the SuperSoldier, one vs one. Now this should be interesting.” A previously tired looking Sam clapped his hands and leaned forward, now fully invested in the scene in front of him.
You turned to Nat, who now looked a little paler than she did before.
“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, don’t tell me, you lost this spar?” You joked, expecting her to join in and tease you back. Instead, her face displayed an emotion you weren’t entirely sure of.
Before you could question it, you noticed the room fall silent. Not even a breath could be heard in the room. Your head turned slowly, meeting a mixture of shocked and sympathetic faces. And that was when you saw it.
Nat had kissed Steve, and he didn’t stop her.
If you weren't aware of your heartbeat before, you couldn’t be now, for it felt like it had completely stopped. Your jaw fell as your eyes filled with tears, only worsening the longer you saw the two of them on the screen. It was only turned off when a third person walked into view, not needing to ponder on who it could be, you immediately faced guilty stares. Three of them.
“You- you kissed-” You stuttered, incapable of forming a sentence towards your teammate. “And, you knew?” Your voice broke, tears now beginning to find their way down your cheeks for the second time as Bruce couldn’t bring himself to answer you.
You swiftly rose out of your seat, attempting to keep yourself composed until you could be alone.
“Baby-” Natasha murmured, trying to take hold of your hand, which you snatched back before she could lay a finger on it.
“Don’t.”
“Please-”
“Leave me alone.” You spat, speed walking out of what now felt like an overcrowded room.
You didn’t hear it, you’d left too early, but if you had stayed, you would’ve heard the team give Nat and Steve the scolding of their lives, mainly from Wanda and Tony, telling them how disappointed they were in them both. How they’d be lucky if you were to forgive them for what they did.
________________________
You don’t know how long you’d been sitting on your shared bed for. It could’ve been an hour, it could’ve been a couple of minutes. All you knew, was that you couldn’t stay in this room much longer, looking at the picture frames and the shared wardrobe, it just felt painful.
So, you walked over to your wardrobe and gathered every item of your clothing into your arms, lacking any care for if there were hangers or labels in the way, and chucked them on the bed and started to chuck it all into a suitcase intended for holidays but, you don’t see that happening anytime soon.
The sound of sniffles and rustling was all you could hear in the room, so much so that it was suffocating, and it didn’t help when you heard the door creak open.
“What are you doing?” A voice squeaked. Natasha stood beside the door, fidgeting with her fingers as she anxiously bounced from one foot to the other. You didn’t even bother to look up in her direction, focusing solely on getting out of there as soon as you could.
“Baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened, I didn’t mean it.” You scoffed at her attempt at an explanation. “I love you.”
That’s what made you whip your head to see her red and puffy eyes, if this was any other situation, you would’ve rushed over and engulfed her in a hug, tell her that everything would be okay and you’re there for her. Now? All you felt was anger.
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have kissed him.”
“I didn’t know-”
You stood up straight, almost laughing at her choice of words. “You didn’t know? Bullshit. I’m pretty fucking sure everyone is aware when they kiss someone. Did you know when you were kissing me then? Or did you not know that either?”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“I don’t think I care.”
She tries to step closer to you, only for you to take one back, holding your hand out, indicating for her to stop.
“No. no, you know what Nat, you don’t get to do this. You don’t get to treat me like a stranger for weeks, like I'm sharing a bed with someone I don’t know, for you to then kiss someone else and expect me to forgive you. You have no idea how I've felt these past weeks, blaming myself and thinking I was selfish for wanting your time. It’s funny, really.”
She looked away from you, regret taking over her features, both of you now having tear stains covering your rosy red cheeks.
You broke the silence once again. “Was that the first time?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Y/N-” She pleaded
“Answer the question, Natasha.” You spoke through gritted teeth.
Silence returned to the four walls.
“Get out.”
“No, no, we-” She stepped forward, only to halt herself when she realised what she was doing.
“There is no ‘we’. We’re done. I’ll have my stuff moved back into my room by tonight, though I'm sure it won’t make much of a difference to you.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“Whatever.”
She walked out of the room, hesitating slightly, wondering if it’s worth staying and trying to figure out whatever this is. She shook her head to herself, knowing she’d fucked up. There wasn’t a fight anymore. It was done.
Collapsing on the bed, the feeling washed over you again as the finality of it all set in. You didn’t stop though. You packed your clothes, your perfumes, all of your loose hair ties and left the room with only one thought on your mind.
Natasha won’t even notice the difference.
Taglist: @natashas-favourite-knives @wandaromanova
#Natasha romanoff#Natasha romanoff x reader#Natasha x reader#Natasha romanoff x Y/N#Natasha romanova#Natasha x fem!reader#Natasha romanoff angst#Natasha angst#Black widow#Black widow x reader#Marvel#Natasha romanoff imagine#Natasha romanoff oneshot#Natasha romanoff fanfiction#Natasha romanoff smut#Natasha romanoff fluff#Natasha romanoff x fem!reader
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Initiative - aka NMJ and JYL get engaged - ao3 or tumblr pt 1, pt 2
Jiang Yanli’s first engagement had been announced when she was three and a half years old – there had been a big party, festooned in color, exquisitely and meticulously planned out in advance, and she’d been obliged to stand on stage next to a baby in a cradle that had done nothing but cry and spit as all the adults around her congregated and congratulated each other on the excellent match.
She hadn’t enjoyed that at all.
Her second wedding announcement was simultaneously more casual and more noteworthy, and she enjoyed it tremendously.
Madame Jin had sent several invitations to Jiang Yanli to come visit Lanling in advance of the hunt planned for Phoenix Mountain, speaking of how beautiful it was and how much she looked forward to seeing her good friend’s daughter – talking about she’d always regretted how Jiang Yanli had been obligated by circumstances to take shelter at the Unclean Realm rather than in Lanling City, although she’d been pleased to hear from her son that she was doing well – all the right sort of words. The words might have been more welcome if Jiang Yanli hadn’t known that Madame Jin was still intent on securing the marriage she had arranged.
If she hadn’t been engaged, she would have accepted the invitation, hoping to form an alliance for her sect through a close relationship with Madame Jin even if she didn’t have one with Jin Zixuan (no matter what Madame Jin hoped), but as she was, in fact, engaged to another – even if it hadn’t been formally announced – it would be inappropriate to go. So she instead played ignorant and responded graciously, protesting that she couldn’t possibly impose, that the rebuilding at the Lotus Pier needed her, but that she would of course be happy to attend the hunt alongside the rest of her sect.
She arrived at her brother’s side, smiling all the while.
Her second engagement was announced like this: Sect Leader Jin, using his newly legitimized son as his mouthpiece, had brought forward some ghastly ‘entertainment’ that involved shooting at helpless prisoners, tied up in chains. Jin Zixuan had complied, but Wei Wuxian had marched out and disrupted everything by showing off to a ridiculous extent – Nie Mingjue, who had been watching with a black face full of rage but unable to speak due to propriety, had started applauding very loudly and very enthusiastically – and Sect Leader Jin had ordered the prisoners taken away.
“Well, then,” he said, clapping as if he had impressed himself: as if they hadn’t just been subjected to a powerplay under the guise of hospitality, as if everyone would be over-awed by his might now that they had seen him abuse the helpless while they were all forced by the rules of etiquette to say nothing or else risk carrying the blame for trying to start another war. “Absent anything else, we should proceed to the hunt itself, where await you only the finest of prey and the sharpest competition among your peers.”
For the further display of the power of the Jin sect, he meant.
“Actually,” Nie Mingjue said, interjecting in a moment in which Sect Leader Jin had paused to take a breath so that it was technically not an interruption, “there is one thing. A request, in fact.”
Sect Leader Jin’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he maintained his false smile. “Of course, Sect Leader Nie. What can I do for you?”
“I’m getting married,” Nie Mingjue said. “The bride is Young Mistress Jiang, of Yunmeng Jiang, and I would like –” He raised his voice to overcome the abrupt explosion of talk that had erupted. “– I would like to have her accompany my sect in today’s hunt. I hope that doesn’t interfere with your plans for a competition between the sects?”
There were those who said that Jiang Yanli’s chosen husband was bad at politics, and they might even be right. But it didn’t really matter in the end if he’d thought of the idea on a whim or if it’d been a prearranged plan by Nie Huaisang, who was cleverer than he liked to let on to people, Jiang Yanli’s future husband had still wiped away in a single sentence all memory of the farce they’d all just endured and of the hunt that was yet to come, ensuring that the only thing anyone would remember about today was the shocking news of the engagement of the leader of one Great Sect to the sister of another.
(And if everyone remembered that at the last celebration hosted by Sect Leader Jin, he had proposed to resurrect the marriage between Jiang Yanli and his own son, instead, forcing her to publicly demur on vague terms…well, that just made it all the more satisfying.)
Now it was Sect Leader Jin’s turn to scowl and glare, and Madame Jin’s expression looked no less thunderous, but in the end Jiang Yanli got to go with the Nie sect on the hunt.
“You know I’ll only slow you down,” she said to Nie Mingjue, who snorted.
“No more than Huaisang will,” he said, and if his face was stern and his voice gruff then she still thought she detected fondness and humor beneath it. “Besides, it’ll be a good opportunity to measure you.”
It turned out that he meant that more literally than she might have thought.
Jiang Yanli was promptly whisked away to the back of the Nie retinue by a small cadre of Nie disciples, men and women both. She was presented with a number of training sabers shaped out of wood and made to hold them in a variety of positions as they murmured things about stability and reach and balance as if they really, truly thought that she would actually use the saber they were preparing for her.
“This one,” Nie Jiahui, a steely older woman with silver in her hair and fierce eyes, eventually announced, and the practice saber Jiang Yanli had been waving around was taken away. She was then presented with one that was twice as heavy, for “practice”.
“Do you always practice with something heavier than the actual thing?” she asked, and Nie Jiahui nodded.
“Strengthens the shoulders,” she said, curt but not standoffish. “Have some candy.”
Jiang Yanli blinked, but smiled and accepted the offer. It was licorice, which she liked.
“Do you often carry candy with you on night-hunts?” she asked, listening to the sound of fighting from up ahead. Every so often, a disciple or two would trot by carrying the corpses of larger and larger creatures, slain in the fighting; it seemed that the Nie sect was not, in fact, being slowed down in the slightest by her presence.
Of course, she also wasn’t being tended to as if she were their chosen lady, either, as she might have otherwise expected – all pomp and flowery language, Nie Mingjue by her side at all times to show her around as if they were on a pleasure stroll – but in all honesty that would have been a little bewildering. It was very much not the Nie sect’s character, all practical and straightforward, and she found that she preferred it that way.
“It’s important to have something to replenish energy,” Nie Huaisang said, having dropped back to join them from the front. He looked tired and grumpy, but his saber appeared to have been put to some work; he immediately climbed up into the carriage that people were taking turns riding and started cleaning it. “And licorice candy clears the lungs.”
“Clears the lungs?” Jiang Yanli asked.
“It’s good for more than that,” Nie Jiahui said. “But that’s one of the uses, yes. Do you ever feel like your chest is too tight, especially when you move too much? Leading to coughing, shortness of breath, your lips turning blue?”
Jiang Yanli blinked. “Yes,” she said. “But that’s just because I was born with a weak body.”
Nie Jiahui scoffed and Nie Huaisang laughed. “Good luck with that,” he said cheerfully. “I was born with muscles that didn’t keep their tone: too flexible, incapable of gathering strength, requiring more energy to do less, making me twice as tired twice as fast – even sitting up straight can be a struggle in some extreme cases, though luckily not mine. And do you think that helped me one bit in getting out of saber training? It did not.”
“Early childhood intervention is best,” Nie Jiahui said. “But the next best is starting today. I’ll show you some low-impact exercises that you can start working on to strengthen your shoulders and stomach, as well as some balance movements to center yourself and improve your posture – that way, by the time your actual saber is ready, you’ll be able to take it through one of the basic routines.”
“I’m happy to learn whatever you have to teach,” Jiang Yanli said, ignoring Nie Huaisang’s dramatic cry of ‘And here I thought you’d be on my side!’ “I only regret troubling you.”
“Not at all,” Nie Jiahui said. “It’ll be good to have someone watching the Sect Leader’s back on night-hunts.”
Jiang Yanli felt a surge of terror and excitement in her belly. “He would trust me with that? You would trust me with that?”
“I did tell you that you’d need to keep up with him,” Nie Huaisang said mildly, and it was true, he had, only she’d assumed it was a bit more metaphorical. “You don’t have to fight or even walk too much, if it doesn’t suit you – my grandmother was lame in both her legs from a childhood illness, she rode everywhere, scariest woman I’ve ever met by far – but you do have to be there. Someone needs to be able to tell my brother to stop. Someone he’ll listen to.”
And wasn’t that something of a thrill to think of?
Jiang Yanli wasn’t someone anyone listened to – not her parents, not her brother, not her sect disciples. She’d always been the one who comforted them afterwards, who supported them; she made them food and tried to convince them to be kinder to each other, and sometimes they even tried for a while before getting into another tiff. They would kill for her if she so much as hinted at it, tear down the sky for her, but it was more in the nature of indulging her rather than actually allowing them to guide her.
Yet here was Chifeng-zun, a war hero and a sect leader, one of the most powerful men in the world, a man admired by men and sought after (even if only in their hearts) by women, and his family was telling her that he would listen to her.
“If you say so,” she demurred, but they insisted, and by the time the hunt was over Jiang Yanli was surprised to realize that she hadn’t needed to resort to sitting on the carriage more than twice the entire time.
“We’ll send Auntie Jiahui to the Lotus Pier after today’s hunt is done,” Nie Huaisang chattered cheerfully in her ear as they headed back towards Jinlin Tower. “She’ll work you through your paces, believe you me, and all the supplemental things, too – making sure you eat the right thing, take medicinal baths to improve your meridians, apply massages to loosen your joints…those parts are nice, actually. Take care of your body as you would your saber, take care of your saber as you would your wife! That’s how the saying goes. Trust me, you’ll be regretting the whole thing soon enough.”
Jiang Yanli didn’t think she would. “You seem very confident that A-Cheng will allow you to do as you please, even in the Lotus Pier.”
“I’ll tell him it concerns secret Nie sect marriage rituals,” Nie Jiahui interjected. “When two women are involved, men tend to run away when the words ‘marriage’ and ‘secret’ are combined.”
Sadly, she was probably right.
“Show me those exercises again,” she requested, and Nie Jiahui climbed up on to the carriage to show her the ones she could do even while sitting down.
Jiang Yanli might never have had the opportunity to strengthen herself before, and she was moderately certain that she wouldn’t have too much success now, as the various tricks Nie Jiahui had taught her were largely body refinement, barely reliant on qi, and her cultivation was still as low as ever.
But she was good at devoting herself to learning something when she wanted to, and as soon the hunt at Phoenix Mountain was over and they had shifted over to the various feasts and meetings that Lanling Jin had planned for the rest of the week, she began her efforts at self-improvement in earnest.
The weak body her mother had always despaired of might always be weak – Nie Jiahui had been quite blunt on that subject, making it clear that nothing she was suggesting was some sort of miracle pill, and furthermore that there was nothing wrong with being weak as long as she made an effort (Nie Huaisang had been the recipient of several pointed looks there) – but Jiang Yanli was determined to at least demonstrate that she was trying.
A gesture of good faith, perhaps. Some small show of initiative.
Nie Huaisang had said that Nie Mingjue appreciated her initiative.
“A-Xian,” she called one morning, only a few days later. “A-Xian, are you going out for a walk? Let me come with you.”
“You’ve gone on a lot of walks recently,” Wei Wuxian laughed, but allowed her to take his arm as they walked into the crowd. “Do you like Lanling City so much?”
“It’s the exercise I’m after,” she said, smiling at him. “The Nie sect is a martial sect, remember? I’ll be going on more night-hunts in the future, if all goes well, and I’ll need to keep up.”
“Oh, but surely they’ll bring a carriage..? I don’t know if you really need to go on night-hunts –”
“I want to! It’ll be nice. Don’t worry about me so much, A-Xian –”
Wei Wuxian was shaking his head, smiling, and he wasn’t looking where he was going; perhaps that was why he bumped into the young woman.
But then she looked up at him, and he looked down at her, and he froze.
“Wen Qing?”
#mdzs#jiang yanli#nie mingjue#nie huaisang#wei wuxian#my fic#my fics#initiative#the untamed#includes my medical HCs for JYL and NHS#but no actual medical incidents
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Sugary Sweet Apologies
Summary: You and Reid never really got along but when he saves your life, you decide to be the bigger person and thank him and hopefully start over. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Content/Warnings: light to mild angst with fluffy ending, swearing, spencer reid being an annoying bitch, brief mentions of case stuff (if you watch cm, you should be fine)
A/N: this is for @willowrose99 ‘s 1 year anniversary on tumblr writing challenge!! congrats! i literally wrote and edited this whole thing in less than one day because i got so excited, anyways i hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 1.8k
“Reid and Y/L/N, go to David Whitney’s house. He was the therapist of two of the three victims. He could have some insight into the victimology and know of any overlap between them. He has no criminal record of past aggressive behavior but we can’t rule him out as a suspect entirely,” Hotch stated.
“Hotch, you stuck me with her yesterday for the geographical profiling. Send Prentiss with her instead,” Spencer whined.
“I don’t mind going with Y/L/N. She is a great partner in the field,” Emily glared at Spencer.
“No. Reid, go with Y/L/N or be taken off this case. I’m a unit chief, not an elementary school teacher. I don’t have time for temper tantrums,” Hotch chided.
“Fine,” Spencer grumbled as you grabbed the keys to an SUV.
You don’t know what it was but ever since you started at the BAU four months ago, Spencer had never liked you which resulted in you disliking him as well. Everyone else on the team was super friendly and welcoming but Reid always was jabbing snarky remarks your way like “I don’t have time to explain it to you” or “This was in the FBI handbook. God, you need more training.”
Luckily, the others were quick to defend you. Once Garcia even heard him snip at you over the phone and as soon as you all got off the elevator after the case, Reid was being dragged by his ear into Garcia’s lair with him going “ow ow ow” behind her. So, you didn’t really pay much mind to him because you could deal with one annoying know-it-all to have such an amazing job with great coworkers minus the one.
“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of the SUV, “But at least I’m not being a whiny bitch about it and being rude to the other person’s face.”
“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings,” Spencer mocked.
“Fuck you, Reid,” you shook your head.
-
David Whitney was on edge the second you arrived and showed him your badges. He was bouncing his leg up and down, he couldn’t sit still, and he kept avoiding eye contact.
He knew way too much about the other victim that wasn’t even one of his clients but you didn’t have anything solid on him. His house seemed very neat so you doubted he kept anything incriminating here. Organized offenders usually have a secondary location. So, you decided to push his buttons a little.
“I mean blitz attacks, leaving the bodies on the side of dirt roads,” you combed through the crime scene photos, “This guy was a real coward.”
Spencer picked up on what you were trying to do and his eyes widened, he was subtly shaking his head and mouthing “no”.
“Excuse me?” David asked.
“Well, I’m just saying a real man wouldn’t cower in the bushes and blindside a woman. He must not be very strong,” you stated, “He probably can’t even get it up.”
Before you even had time to react, David pulled out a switchblade knife from inside the couch cushions and put you in a chokehold, pressing the cool metal up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly.
“David, you don’t have to do this,” Spencer stood with his gun pointed at you both.
“This bitch insulted me,” he snarled.
“She insults me too. That doesn’t make you any less of a man,” Spencer spoke carefully, “Just put the knife down and I’ll escort you out.”
David sighed, dropping the knife to the floor and releasing you.
Spencer put David in handcuffs and walked him outside as reinforcements came running in.
“Are you okay, Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.
“Yep, a little shaken up but fine. Thank you,” you stood.
“Let’s get you to the medics,” Morgan grabbed your arm to support you as you walked over to the ambulance.
Spencer never checked on you.
-
You knew your decision in the field was a little rash and you wanted to thank Spencer for essentially saving your life.
However, there was no way in hell you could verbally get out an apology while staring at his smug face, but you could bake. You settled on a note tucked inside a tupperware container of your Grandma’s special recipe of chocolate chip cookies. It was a good peace offering, maybe even a chance to start fresh.
During your lunch break, you took the tupperware from your desk drawer and approached the break room where Reid had entered about 5 minutes ago.
“I’m just saying I could not have been more clear in my message to her that it was too dangerous but of course, Y/L/N didn’t listen cause Y/L/N is going to do whatever she feels like,” Spencer stirred his coffee.
No one had noticed you standing in the doorway yet.
“Reid, you’ve got to be nicer to her. She earned her spot here just like the rest of us,” Emily defended you.
“Did she though? How much do we really know about her? She couldn’t even tell me how many pages the FBI protocol manual was,” Spencer said.
“That’s not a normal thing people know,” Morgan retorted.
“Well, I’m just saying the team was perfectly fine before her and it would probably be better off if she left,” Reid finished.
Garcia looked up from her yogurt to see you standing there, “Oh, Y/N”.
Spencer turned around in his chair as you angrily stormed up to him.
“Here’s your cookies, asshole,” you seethed, grabbing the note from inside and crumpling it up into a little ball and tossing it into the trash.
“Y/N!” Emily called after you but you were already gone.
The whole team glared at Spencer and picked up their lunches, leaving him alone at the table.
Spencer retrieved the balled up paper from the trash, having to fish through Rossi’s week old pasta and Anderson’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich.
Dear Reid,
Thank you for saving my life, I guess. These are my Grandma’s secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies so I hope you enjoy. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over. I think cases would be a lot less miserable for everyone if we got along.
Thanks again,
Y/L/N
Spencer, you’re such an idiot, he thought to himself.
You never came back after your lunch break ended and Derek made Spencer go tell Hotch why it’s his fault you were missing the rest of the day.
He tried to call you multiple times but they always rang out before going to voicemail.
Spencer hesitantly knocked on Penelope’s door at the end of the day.
“Is she okay?” he asked softly.
“You don’t get to ask that as the person who hurt her in the first place. Also, she told me to tell you that don’t you dare go to her apartment to ‘check on her’. I’m headed over there myself actually,” Penelope collected her things and shut off her monitors.
“Will you at least tell her I’m really sorry?” Spencer followed her to the elevator.
“Absolutely not. I’m not doing any apologizing on your behalf,” Penelope huffed as the elevators shut.
-
You came in the next morning, keeping your head down. You grabbed a pen from your cup holder and the first folder on your stack before getting to work.
You were on the second page of the file when your clean, empty tupperware was placed in front of you plus another baking dish with aluminum foil over the top.
You glanced up to see Spencer guiltily looking down at you and you returned your eyes back to the file.
“I-I made you cinnamon rolls,” Spencer broke the silence.
“Are they poisoned?” you asked, not sparing him another glance.
“No, they’re not poisoned,” he assured you.
“I’m just saying how can I trust you as you have made it very apparent you would like me off this team.”
“I didn’t mean that,” Spencer was quick to reply.
“Then why the hell did you say it, Reid?” you slammed your pen down.
You grabbed your empty coffee mug and briskly walked to the break room but unfortunately, Spencer was right behind you.
“I didn’t eat any of your cookies by the way. Not that I didn’t want to but I felt like I didn’t deserve them so I handed them out to everyone else.”
“Oh how kind, taking credit for my work,” you tried to close the door in his face.
“I told them that they were from you,” Spencer insisted.
You rolled your eyes as Spencer grabbed the coffee pot before you could get to it, pouring your mug of coffee for you.
“What do you want from me, Reid?” you asked defeatedly.
“I want you to try a cinnamon roll and let me explain.”
“Fine but only because I didn’t have breakfast yet and I want to critique your baking skills,” you huffed, walking back to your desk.
Spencer gingerly placed one of the sticky frosting-coated rolls on a napkin and pushed it towards you. You tentatively bit into it. Damn it, it was actually delicious.
“It’s okay,” you understated.
You knew Spencer hardly ever used his kitchen let alone be up baking all night. He even chose a recipe that required more time and effort because the yeast dough would have to rise for a few hours.
“That’s good. The first batch didn’t come out as great...or the second,” he smiled softly.
“Well, the floor is all yours, Reid. Please explain to me why you talk shit about me to my co-workers when I’m in the other room,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.
Spencer muttered something incoherent.
“I have to hear the apology, you know,” you said, enjoying watching him uncomfortable.
“You’re intimidating to me because you’re intelligent, beautiful, and courageous. I think I was a little jealous that my spotlight as the ‘kid’ of the BAU was coming to an end so I said some harsh, completely untrue things and I’m sincerely sorry.”
“Oh my god,” you smirked, “Hotch was right, you are an elementary school kid.”
“In what way?” he curiously asked.
“You like me like like like me. You don’t know how to talk to the girl so you pull her pigtails on the playground,” you giggled.
“I take it back. You’re a horrible profiler,” Spencer was getting up from his seat, completely flustered.
“Awww,” you were laughing at Spencer’s bright red face as he went to go to the break room to fill his coffee mug.
When he got back to his desk, a sticky note was placed front and center.
In typical elementary school fashion…
Will you go get coffee with me?
Check:
Yes
or
No
Spencer smiled before picking up his pen and checking one of the boxes, crumpling the sticky note up into a ball and throwing it over to your desk.
“Good choice. See you Saturday at 9 at the cafe down the street,” you grinned.
“It’s a date,” he smiled.
#willsannievent#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#spencer x reader#reid x reader#spencer reid#cm fanfic#criminal minds
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Oh oh oh I have a request! 🙋🏼♀️
This is oddly specific and I’m so sorry if you’ve done this one before and I missed it! I literally just thought this and then couldn’t stop thinking it.
Saeyoung...teaching you to drive??
Like say maybe MC lives in a city where lots of people never learn how to drive (I live in a place like this) and he finds out they don’t know how and is like ??? let me teach you~
Anyway I bow down to you and your writing and I’m excited to read any and all requests you do 😍
It's basically been a year, if not longer and I am SO sorry!! So much happened and I'm honestly just glad I am still here. I actually had this finished for quite a while, but lost my notes too so I could never actually post it....until today because I finally found them!!! Who would've thought that I was literally walking past them every single day ;-;
Anyway, here it is. I hope it is alright, especially since I can't drive myself so I have no clue how driving actually works. I am pretty sure I looked it up as I wrote it though, so I hope I didn't misunderstand uwu
Saeyoung teaching Mc how to drive
you never thought much about learning to drive
sure, most of your friends had cars already and plenty of jobs even required it, but it never seemed too necessary for you
all you ever needed to reach in your day to day life you could easily get to via public transport
and if you really ended up in a pickle, either Uber or friends and family had your back
now that you lived with a car enthusiast however, things changed a bit
while Saeyoung was more than happy to drive you wherever you wanted, he was shook to hear you had no license
how empty must your life be without the love of a sweet baby car?
without the experience of having it’s motor purr beneath you, and follow your every whim??
no matter how many times you told him that you were entirely fine with the love you received from your boyfriend - him, he was relentless
you discussed it back and forth with him, when saw his eyes shine at a thought flashing through his mind
“I could teach you!!”
you thought he was kidding at first
but the sparkle in his eyes and the twitching of his leg told you he was dead serious
“I…I don’t know about this Sae….”
“It’ll be great! I’m the best driver you’ll ever meet and I’ll get to take out one of my older babies I don’t use so much anymore!!”, he paused for a moment as you raised your brow. “Listen, sweetie. I love you more than my life, but if you can’t drive there are just some cars that are off limits for you.”
you couldn’t argue with that.
In fact, you felt a bit apprehensive about him allowing you to touch any of his cars.
or at least putting you behind their wheel
no matter how much you tried to talk him out of it though, he wouldn’t budge
Saeyoung was going to show you how to drive, and you had no chance to begin with to change his mind
thus, only a couple days later, you found yourself in the car with him, on a backroad he promised had hardly any drivers coming by
though he had given you a bunch of theoretical information since he was set on his idea, your heart was racing in your chest
what if you did something wrong and broke the cars? Or worse?
next to you, Saeyoung was completely relaxed. He was your polar opposite.
“Okay, what first?”, he asked
his voice was soft and calm, fitting his demeanor
you bit your lip. “Scream?”
Saeyoung chuckled at your suggestion
“If my memory serves me right, you already did that at home and on the way here, so I think you can go for the next step.”
“Scream some more?”
“You can do that later. For now, adjust the mirrors.”
Sighing, you nodded to yourself and did as you were told
“Can you see properly through each one?”
you checked carefully; then, when you were sure, nodded
“Next….,” he started, prompting you to continue
“Start the engine?”, you asked carefully
reluctantly, you turned the key, making the engine “purr” as your boyfriend always called it
except it didn’t purr at all and lunged forward instead
you let out a yelp as the car came to as sudden halt again and turned off, several lights glowing in a dreadful red before fading
eyes wide, you turned to Saeyoung, scared that he might scold you for treating his baby like that
you weren’t sure if you were relieved or annoyed when you saw him grinning from ear to ear instead
“Why didn’t you say anything?!”, you asked, visibly upset
He chuckled lightly at your outrage
“I’m sorry, I just really wanted to see how you’d react. And it was pretty great, not gonna lie.”
you huffed, removing your belt and reaching for the door to get out
Saeyoung lunged over to you, grabbing your wrist
“Wait!! I am sorry. Please try again, I won’t leave you on your own again, I promise!”
you frowned as he searched your eyes, his face making it clear his apology was genuine
lips pursed, you sat back properly again and reapplied your seatbelt.
“If you do this again, I am out.”
“...and walk home? That will be quite far.”
you squinted at his remark.
“I’ll take my chances.”
a sly grin rushed over his face, before he leant back out of your sight and instructed you on what to do - making sure that from now on, your experiences in driving were as positive as possible.
#mystic messenger#mystic messenger 707#mystic messenger saeyoung choi#707xmc#707xreader#request#gureishi#my writing#if this reads a bit rusty#it's because I was when I wrote it#and I still am ngl
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Hi there! Can you please do relationship headcanons of a gender neutral MC with autism and ADHD dating the seven brothers? I’d love to see more positive writing of a neurodivergent MC and how each of the brothers would love and respect them regardless of their disabilities. Feel free to do this if you want to. If not, that’s ok! Have a great day! 😁👍🌷🌹🌺🌸🌼🌻🌷🌹🌻🌼🌸🌺
This ask literally made me squeal- my neurodivergent ass is gonna have way too much fun with this- LMAO Just a warning, I'm basing this mainly off of my personal experiences (I have ADHD and am possibly getting tested for atypical autism in the future.). Ill try to be as broad as possible but I'd just like to give a heads up.
Just know that if you don't relate to this post or something in it, that doesn't mean you aren't valid! Everyone experiences neurodivergencey differently ^^
☆The Brothers Dating A GN!MC With Autism & ADHD☆
Day-to-day life has always been a struggle. As it feels like no human truly understands why you function the way you do. From bosses, to teachers, to neurotypical friends. Life can feel draining and like a chore when you're living in a world that doesn't function the way you do.
Then your world literally changes. You're in the devildom now. Most people would be terrified that they're living in a house full of demons. But you weren't. You felt like you finally belonged, and eventually you finally found love. Something that people assumed you'd never be able to find. Well jokes on them because your lover treats you with so much respect and kindness, and of course you do the same. This is some of what your lover does that just makes your heart spin:
Lucifer:
-Much to your dismay, before Lucifer started to get to know you he was similar to the humans you've encountered in the past. This doesn't last long though as one of the brothers (most likely Leviathan or Mammon) try to explain. He begins to go a bit easier on you, and also falls for you.
-When you guys start dating, he makes it his goal to help make your day-to-day life easier. Dare I say, he takes pride in it. (Hahahah aren't I funny?)
-He notices how you need a schedule to function, but how much you hate schedules. So with your permission, he makes a loose schedule and follows it WITH you. It simultaneously helps you function more than usual, and it helps Lucifer take breaks when he needs to.
-You two begin to do everything together, as doing stuff together and holding each other accountable is a lot easier than doing it alone
-If someone ever dares to make a rude comment about you Lucifer will um... "take care of them".
-If you ever get overstimulated from the environment you're in, Lucifer keeps his office wide open as a quiet place for you. He keeps a weighted blanket, some headphones and any stim toys you usually use in a corner of his office. If you're not comfortable with them out in the open he'll keep them in a special box somewhere in his office that others can't get into.
Mammon:
-Executive Dysfunction gang! The both of you are relieved that you understand each other and some dumbass wont just go "jUsT gEt Up aNd dO iT!"
-If you guys are struggling with it at different times, you'll try to help each other do small tasks that require very limited effort so that one of you don't get overwhelmed and stressed out. If its a particularly difficult day, you'll just stay there to support the other if they want that.
-If both of you are struggling that day, you do nothing ✨together✨ and just vibe with each others company.
-This man brings you shiny things. They don't even have to be worth anything, they're just shiny. You proceed to do the same. You two now have a designated spot for shiny things you bring each other. If you have an interest in art, you and him will probably end up using the shiny objects as art projects.
-A LOT of impulse shopping. You guys enable each other. Although you quickly realize that you impulse shop for each other. Every second day you end up bringing each other gifts and laughing about it after.
Leviathan:
-Y'know that arm thing two neurodivergent people do when they find out that the other person is neurodivergent? Yeah you two did that. And still continue to do that. It's your greeting now.
-You two spend tons of time either cuddling and talking about your special interests together, or both of you are pacing around Levi's room talking about your special interests together.
-And if you end up having the same special interest?? Oh man the serotonin you two both get just being AROUND each other.
-If you have a hard time around tons of people (in general or just at certain times) he's more than willing to share his room with you and for you two to do online school together. I mean hey, doing school by yourself online is difficult. (Even if it's more comfortable for you both)
-Will he get you a matching pair of noise cancelling headphones if you have auditory sensory issues, or if you just like the pressure on your head. (I don't know if that's a neurodivergent thing but I will wear my headphones just so that I feel some sort of pressure on my head)
-You both communicate what you need, and whether you need alone time or not. Making sure not to trigger any form of rejection sensitivity dysphoria for eachother.
Satan:
-If you were one of those neurodivergent kids that spent all of their time in the library, going through books like wildfire in middle school, get ready for that to be reignited.
-You two will read together all the time, and if you're having a day where you're more fidgety and don't wanna stay still, Satan is more than happy reading to you while you pace around.
-Satan has a natural curiosity, and loves to learn about anything that he doesn't already know about. So if you have a special interest about your own neurodivergency, he is more than happy to listen to you ramble about your life experiences and symptoms.
-Honestly, it doesn't even have to be about neurodivergency, Satan is happy to listen and learn about anything you're interested currently.
-If you aren't big on physical affection from humans or, well... humanoid people, that's perfectly fine! That's what animals are for! He'll take you to a cat cafe and will enjoy spending time with the animals with you.
-Similar to Lucifer, if anyone makes a comment about the way you act, they wont live to see another day. Unlike Lucifer, the demons who say these comments don't even finish their sentence. They're dead before MC blinks.
Asmodeus:
-When Asmodeus finds out that you have sensory issues that affect what you wear, he decides to hand-make clothes with fabrics of your choice. He has no issue with you prioritizing comfort over appearance, but if you want to put effort into your appearance and texture is stopping you, he's more than happy to design some stuff for you.
-Asmodeus has always been a touchy person, but if you aren't comfortable with that he'd never force you to cuddle. If you are interested in physical affection one of his favourite things to do is put makeup on your face, or just touch your face.
-Speaking of which, if you ever impulsively cut your hair whether it be from breakdown, normal impulsivity, or sensory issues with your hair being longer. He'll always help you cut your hair. He wants to make sure that once you cut it, you wont regret it the next day.
-Depending on whether you like going outside or not (or if its depending on the day) he's more than happy to take you to the fall! He'll make sure you're always comfortable and if you need the attention diverted from you if you need a break!
-If you don't like going outside, Asmo will dedicate certain nights for just you two to hang out. He can always energy match you. Hyperactive? Oh he's right there with you bouncing of the walls. Calmer? He doesn't mind just vibing with you. Comfort? Oh you've come to the right guy.
-Asmodeus is very emotionally intelligent, it may have originally been for the wrong purposes (charming others) but now he can use it to help you work through issues with socializing with others, past traumas from other people, he'll always do his best to support you as long as you'd do the same for him!
Beelzebub:
-Beel is always well meaning, but whether you're neurodivergent or neurotypical, communication is key with him. So, if you're unintentionally blunt to neurotypical people, that's exactly what Beel needs and wants. He knows you don't mean it out of harm, you're just trying to state your boundaries.
-Do you need a weighted blanket? This man will become the weighted blanket. He wants to make sure you're comfortable at all times!
-If you have trouble eating, Beel is here to help. If you take meds for ADHD and they make you lose your appetite, or just general forgetfulness, he'll remind you to have at least some sort of small snack throughout the day. Nothing too filling, just enough so that you aren't running on zero food throughout the day.
-All the go-to and comfort foods that you had in the human world? Beel would make it his MISSION to get them, and TONS of it too. It's the only food in the house he wont eat because he knows how important it is to you. He will tear up a bit if you offer to share though.
-If you're in a hyperactive mood, or anxious, Beel will convince you to do some light exercise with him to help calm you down
Belphegor:
-If you have trouble sleeping, Belphie will definitely try and help. Ranging from cuddling, aroma therapy, getting Beel to do exercise with you. To more magical means (if you're comfortable with it) like sleeping powder.
-If you just have a different internal clock than the average person, that's fine too! It may be permanent but that's okay- Belphie will sleep at any time with you.
-Isn't generally a social person so if you're not that big of a fan of social interaction you don't have to worry. Belphie would even do online school with you!
-He would let you use his pillows and blankets to stim if that's something you're interested in. He'd also listen to you ramble about your interests while doing so! As long as you don't mind him talking about the stars afterwards.
-Definitely the most blunt out of his brothers, so communication wouldn't be an issue between you two. If his bluntness is a bit too harsh for you he'll try to tone it down a bit, but it would probably just end up as him trying to explain the reasoning behind the bluntness and how it's not out of harm.
#neurodivergent!MC obey me#obey me#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me shall we date#obey me x reader
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On SPN, Burying Your Gays, and Being Heard
I am shaking, I feel sick, I feel like I’m insane. And did I run a little wild with the theories? You bet. But you know what didn’t help? The botched clusterfuck that was this entire goddamn finale debacle. How was I supposed to believe anything they said in panels when M&G dialogue would leak saying the exact opposite? How was I supposed to grieve and move on when there was nothing from the cast and crew? Nobody said anything! And any info leaked just destabilized what we already knew or directly contradicted what we’d been told. In light of that, how was I supposed to trust anything anyone said? One rogue translator reciprocated the love confession and I was practically sold, because there were so many questions surrounding the English text that this was something good, something that logically fit, and something I wanted to hold onto.
Because they hurt me. This is about so much more than one episode or a ship; for years queer fans have seen ourselves in these characters and been told that we were crazy. That we were reading too much into it. I’m not sure how people get upset and offended when a storyline that doesn’t exist... doesn’t exist! said Guy Bee (2013). And then, after all of that, they turned around and said magnanimously, you have your version, I have mine... and that’s okay. But it’s not okay. It’s not okay, because that doesn’t erase what came before - that doesn’t erase the baiting and the gaslighting, and that invalidates everything we felt in the time leading up to that episode. It gave them an open window for all the subtext that came after. It allowed them to brush us off.
And then we got Cas’s love confession. I watched that scene about 500 times. Added to the rest of the season - to the fandom avatar being presented as successful and intelligent, to arc being the death of the author - I felt seen. Really seen, by a show that made it its mission to erase me. I had been okay with Cas dying at first because I had been sure the romance arc would carry through. I had been convinced that after everything, there was no way they would give that to us and then take it away.
But they did, because this is Supernatural. To anyone saying this is not bury your gays, I implore you to read up on the Hays Code. This link is to an amazing queer history podcast and the episode that covers it. In short, the Hays Code was a legal document that came about in 20th Century Hollywood during the puritanical war on the American entertainment industry, and it stipulated what was not allowed on screen. Not all of it was queer - there’s a whole section about kissing - but what the Code is most remembered for is that queerness was not allowed on screen. But queer people are resilient, and so they started testing the waters... and it turned out that you could in fact code queerness into a narrative, as long as it was subtextual, or as long as the queer character died/was punished, or both. The point is that the character is not allowed to live their truth openly. They are buried, either in the ground or punished in the narrative. The former is normally what we refer to these days, because the latter just doesn’t really happen anymore.
Until Supernatural.
Castiel is immediately punished for speaking his truth - and please don’t tell me he leveraged that punishment and so he had agency. Literally the only thing that could make him happy was confessing his feelings, and so the Empty deal was directly related to this idea of queerness-as-punishment. That being said, Bobo wrote a beautiful scene. Cas’s confession was a love letter to queerness and coming out... but everything that came after buried him. Castiel may have ended the series alive but he was effectively written out of the last two episodes, and that means that he actually never really got to live his truth. He was silenced by the narrative - that is punishment.
Dean is a whole other can of worms. Does one rogue translator confirm canon bi!Dean? Or do we have to read our own version of the text? The fact that we even have to ask these questions firmly places us in the realm of queerbaiting. Were the writers trying to get bi!Dean approved but were unable to? I have no idea, but queerbaiting requires proof that the writers encouraged a reading they had no intent of following through on, and we certainly don’t lack in evidence of that. Not from this writers room, but from those of previous eras. Did these writers try? They might have, but the funny thing about queerbaiting discourse is that there has never been a show to bait this long, and I’m making the call that even if you tried at the end, you baited me with half the ship and all the years that came before.
Of course, the narrative leaves open the possibility of bi!Dean so if you do read the show that way, that means Dean also falls into the bury your gays category; if you read the show this way - which many of us do - the mere suggestion that Dean Winchester was bisexual was enough to punish him. And he was punished. We’ve all written extensively on this, but he was given a random death, on a case his father never finished. All that growth, all that time spent having him accept himself, love himself, that was all taken away. He died the way he always thought he would: as a tool, in service of his father, protecting his brother. He had always believed he’d been a body to throw on the sword and in the end that’s all he was. And when he gets to Heaven? He’s also silenced. He barely speaks in the episode except to monologue during his death, and that is 100% Sam-centric. He is scared.
It was horrific to watch. I sobbed so hard my roommate was seriously concerned.
I had been fully prepared for Supernatural to end disappointingly. I had figured everything would end with a huge heaven reunion because white, straight, cis-male S&F writers love the idea of death as a reward, but instead of being disappointed I felt like I had witnessed a slaughter. Every single one of the queer themes intrinsic to the show: found family, resilience, speaking your truth... were gone. And I know we’ve talked about this too, but it bears repeating, because in doing this, in writing the queerness out of its narrative, Supernatural effectively looked every one of us queer folx in the eye and said: you are not important. You don’t matter. All of that stuff that came before is all good and well, but what really matters at the end of all things is blood family. It’s two brothers in a car. Life sucks but at least we get to die and go to paradise - real paradise, that your angel buddy died for and then made for you and who we never hear from again.
I felt insane. I felt cheated. I felt humiliated. I felt devastated. I still feel all those things, but listen to me. You have been heard. Not by Misha Collins, who is a great guy, but doesn’t get it. Not by Jensen Ackles, who is a similarly great guy, but also just doesn’t understand. And not by anyone else who worked on this show.
You know who heard you? Me. The people who follow me. The people who follow you. We saw each other, and heard each other, and we gave each other a leg up. We made memes. We wrote fic. We drew fanart. We made gifs. All for ourselves and all for each other. We broke Tumblr multiple times. We donated over $60,000 USD to multiple different causes. We got multiple hashtags trending at multiple different points, and today kept it up because we demanded answers and then we got them. There were at least 5 articles written about the show today. We made that happen. We made people listen.
Supernatural didn’t deserve me, and it didn’t deserve you. It didn’t deserve Dean. It didn’t deserve Cas. It didn’t deserve Misha and Jensen. But this show ended with a bleak, awful message and we turned around and showed them that love is loud. So what about all of this is real?
We are.
#alex talks#spngate#archived#this was very therapeutic#and i honestly don't know if i will ever be able to love something like this again#because i have been burned oh man#but this fandom is amazing#and i am proud to be a part of it#and i am not going anywhere#journaling#15x18#15x19#15x20#castiel#dean winchester#destiel
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