#it’s bad enough trying to do this with English. which is my FIRST LANGUAGE

[writtenbyadriana]

If eyes could touch, Pt.1

Summary: You weren’t looking for anything — not really. Just a night out, a few drinks, a little freedom after too much heartbreak. But then there were his eyes. Green. Sharp. Dangerous in all the ways you weren’t ready for but suddenly couldn’t resist.

This is part 1 of a three-part story. You can find part 2 here! Part 3 is coming soon.

Warnings: age gap, slow burn, alcohol (moderate consumption, not intoxicated), intense flirting, intimate dancing, explicit kissing, strong language (in a light way), sexual tension, build-up smut

This fic contains the use of y/n and pet names (e.g., baby, sweetheart)

Words: 5176

Note: English isn't my first language.

This is a work of fiction. Jensen Ackles does not belong to me, nor do any of the actions or words depicted in this story reflect real events, behaviors, or beliefs. Everything is purely imagined and created for entertainment purposes only.

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I could barely believe I was actually here again. In a club. In heels. After all the drama, after the long, messy breakup with my ex — which felt more like a slow, painful tug-of-war than a clean split — tonight was the first night I felt like I could finally breathe again.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirrored wall behind the DJ booth, where the colorful lights scattered and danced, and for a second I barely recognized myself. My long brown hair fell in soft waves over my shoulders, and my outfit was the perfect mix of sexy and confident: ripped skinny jeans that hugged my legs, a tight black lace top that hinted at just enough skin, and black high heels that made me feel strong and undeniably hot.

Gold hoop earrings, a delicate bracelet, and a dainty necklace shimmered subtly under the lights. I looked like someone who wasn’t trying to forget — but to start over. And tonight, that’s exactly what I was going go do.

"y/n, you look like an absolute dream," Nick grinned, giving me an approving once-over. His eyes sparkled as he grabbed my hand and pulled me straight toward the dance floor.

I laughed, letting him lead me. The bass thrummed through my body, the lights flickered over sweaty faces and moving silhouettes, and for a moment, there was only music. Only rhythm. Only freedom. Nick was an amazing dancer — dramatic, playful, completely himself — and I felt light, alive, maybe even a little high on life.

After a few songs, we retreated to the bar, slightly breathless. My hair clung a little to the back of my neck, but I didn’t care. I felt good. No — better than good.

"Two Moscow Mules, please," Nick told the bartender, who gave us a quick nod. I leaned on the bar with one elbow, grinning at him.

"I forgot how good this feels."

"I know. You’re you again, baby." He winked. "And tonight, you’re going to turn so many heads, just wait."

I laughed, shaking my head. "I just wanna dance and drink. Men are not on the menu."

He was about to reply when his eyes suddenly shot past me, across the bar. They widened.

"Holy shit," he whispered, almost breathless.

I frowned. "What?"

He leaned in closer to my ear, his gaze still fixed straight ahead. "Don’t turn around. Not yet. But over there…fucking Jensen Ackles is at the bar. With Misha and Jared. They’re drinking. Oh my God."

Of course I turned around. Slowly, trying to look casual — but my heart was already racing.

And there he was.

He sat at the bar, one arm resting on the counter, a bottle of beer in his hand. The lighting cast soft shadows over the lines of his face — that strong jaw, that half-cocked smile, those ridiculously golden-green eyes. Misha said something that made Jensen burst out laughing, throwing his head back like the joke had hit him right in the chest.

My stomach flipped.

Nick leaned closer to my ear again. "I swear, he’s even hotter in real life. I mean...look at him. That beard. Those hands. That voice, oh my God. And he’s pure daddy energy. Has been my crush for years. Too bad he’s straight as hell."

I swallowed, then smirked.

And then — like he somehow sensed it — Jensen looked up. His eyes scanned the room, faces, lights…until they landed on me.

Our eyes met.

My stomach did a little somersault.

He looked at me — not just in passing, not some lazy glance. No. It was a look that took its time. That read something. His gaze slid from my face to my neck, paused for a heartbeat on my cleavage, then returned to lock with mine.

And then he raised an eyebrow — just a little. Barely there. But I felt it in every inch of my body.

I forced myself not to look away. I raised my glass instead, teasingly, a half-toast, half-challenge. The corner of his mouth twitched.

"y/n," Nick whispered next to me. "He just looked at you. Like — really looked."

"I know," I murmured, pulse hammering.

And suddenly I was warm again. But not from the dancing.

His gaze didn’t let me go. He was still standing by the bar, beer in hand, and yet it felt like his attention was solely focused on me. My heart pounded all the way down to my fingertips. This wasn’t just the typical "wow, he’s hot" kind of thing. It was more. Deeper. Tingling.

Nick chuckled beside me. "You’re totally short-circuiting."

I tore my eyes away from Jensen and shook my head slightly. "He’s just…"

"Total daddy energy, I know." Nick winked and sipped his drink.

I was just about to answer when I felt a shift in the air. The atmosphere changed. A shadow approached — tall, confident. I felt him before I saw him.

I turned slightly to the side.

Jensen Ackles stood right in front of me.

He was even more attractive up close. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Calm presence. He held a beer bottle loosely in his hand, and he smelled like something fresh, warm, a little woody. His gaze landed on me — focused, but not forceful.

"Hey," he said, his voice deep and unexpectedly soft. "I hope I’m not being too forward…but I had to come over and say hi."

His lips curved into a slight, crooked smile — dangerously charming.

I blinked. "Hi," I managed, silently cursing the slight catch in my voice. "No problem. Hello."

Nick stood frozen beside me, staring at Jensen like Jesus himself had just shown up. I nudged him gently.

"I'm Jensen," he said, glancing briefly at both of us before turning his attention fully back to me. "And you are?"

"y/n" I met his gaze like a silent challenge — calm on the outside, but inside I was reeling.

He nodded slightly. "y/n… pretty name."

Silence. But not the awkward kind. The kind that settles between two people who don’t need to fill it with noise. His eyes flicked briefly to my glass.

"Let me guess: Moscow Mule?" he asked.

I smiled. "Good guess."

"Classic. Refreshing. But with a kick." His voice had a playful tone – not overdone, just… warm. Easy.

Nick cleared his throat. "I… uh… I’ll get us some refills." And before I could stop him, he was gone — clearly more excited than I was.

I let out a soft laugh. "He’s…a fan."

"I can tell," Jensen said, unfazed. "So am I."

I looked at him. A little surprised. A little flattered. And very sure my heart was playing a whole new rhythm.

"I don’t usually get approached this fast," I said, half teasing, half honest.

"I don’t usually see someone who holds my attention like this," he replied, steady and calm.

He stepped just a little closer. Not enough to invade, just enough that I could feel his body heat.

His gaze lingered on my face, then drifted lower — to my collarbone, the delicate gold necklace resting there, then slowly back up to my eyes.

"You’ve got a presence that’s hard to ignore," he said quietly.

I swallowed. Not out of nervousness, but because my body was already reacting to him. There was a flutter in my stomach, a pull somewhere deeper. And still, he radiated that calm energy — like he wasn’t in a rush for anything.

He wasn’t pushy. Wasn’t sleazy. But the tension between us was real. Thick. Electric.

I leaned lightly against the bar. "So what brings Jensen Ackles to this club tonight?"

He raised a brow by the mention of his last name, and smirked. "Oh, so you know who I am?"

I returned the smile, lips tugging upward. "Of course. It would be a shame not to."

He chuckled quietly, almost like he hadn’t expected that. And there it was again — that warmth in his expression, laced with a spark of curiosity.

"A night off. Good music," he said simply. "And…maybe a connection you don’t plan for, but still want."

My breath caught for a second. It didn’t sound like a line. It sounded like truth, gently threading its way through his voice.

I glanced down, feeling his eyes still on me. When I looked back up, there was something different in his gaze — calmer, but piercing. He was present. Real.

And I knew: This wasn’t the end of the night. It was only the beginning.

I smiled nervously, unable to look away from his eyes. Those emerald depths held something magical, something that wouldn’t let go of me. "So, what do you usually do when you’re not hanging out in a club on a Saturday night?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

He grinned, letting his gaze slowly roam over me as if he wanted to take in every detail of my face. "Oh, you know...Movies, scripts, a bit of traveling at the moment. But tonight, I just wanted to switch off. And what about you, sweetheart? What brings you here?"

The "sweetheart" hit me like a little shock — unexpected, but not unwelcome. My heart skipped a beat. I swallowed hard to keep from stumbling over my words. "After my breakup, I just needed a distraction. A place where I could be myself. And someone to laugh with." I looked at him, waiting to see how he’d react.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and a mischievous smile played on his lips. "Laughter’s important. Especially when life’s just been kicking your ass." He raised his beer and toasted me. "I hope I can be your reason to laugh tonight."

I clinked my glass to his, feeling the warmth between us as if it were physical. "You’re definitely on the right track." My gaze dropped back to his eyes, now fixed on me in a way that was both demanding and tender. "You know what really fascinates me? That your eyes are already impressive on TV, but here…here they hold a whole different kind of power. They just pull me in."

Jensen laughed softly, a rough, seductive sound that sent shivers down my spine. "I could say the same back. Your eyes...or at least your look, tell stories I want to hear." His finger traced playfully over my wrist, a fleeting touch that electrified me. “Believe me, I could stand in front of you for hours.”

I met his gaze directly, feeling the air between us shift. The music in the background became the melody of our own silent dance — a game of looks, words, and desire growing louder by the second. "What do you think would happen if eyes could really touch?" I whispered, watching his smile deepen.

"Then we’d already be lost," he replied, his voice barely more than a rough promise. "But I think that’s exactly what’s going to happen tonight."

Our conversation continued like a door had been unlocked between us — easy, natural, real. The words flowed effortlessly, carried by laughter and meaningful glances that lingered just a little too long. This wasn't surface-level chatter. We talked about shows we secretly loved, the kind of music that gets you through heartbreak, the dumb things people do when they're in love. Jensen listened — really listened — with a focus that made everything else around us feel irrelevant.

And under his gaze — deep, steady, quietly intense — I felt...seen. Not just looked at. I felt like I mattered, like I wasn’t just some girl in a club. His eyes told me I was worth uncovering, layer by layer.

More than that, I felt beautiful. Confident. Like I could breathe a little deeper just because he was looking at me that way.

Nick, in the meantime, had subtly drifted away. He stood a few feet back at a high table, nursing his drink with a knowing smile — the kind only your best friend wears when he knows exactly what’s happening, and has no plans to interfere.

"You mentioned your ex earlier..." Jensen said, lifting his beer and glancing at me over the rim. "How does someone let a woman like you go?"

I laughed quietly, not with amusement, but with that sharp edge of pain still lingering. I toyed with the rim of my glass. "He cheated on me."

Jensen’s expression shifted instantly. The relaxed warmth disappeared, his jaw tightening. "Shit. Seriously?"

I nodded. "We were going to get married. Talked about kids. Picked out names, even. Then I came home early one night and found him in our bed with his coworker."

A silent "fuck" formed on his lips. He shook his head slowly. "Son of a bitch. I’ll never understand people like that. Especially when it’s someone like you he’s betraying. He must’ve been blind."

That heat inside me flared — not desire, not yet. Something warmer. Something that soothed a bruise I hadn’t realized still ached. I gave him a small, honest smile.

"What about you?" I asked softly. "You and Danneel... I thought you two were solid."

Jensen leaned back slightly against the bar, arms loose, posture casual — but there was a flicker of something bittersweet in his eyes. "We were together for a long time. Eighteen years total. Married for fifteen. But we just...grew in different directions." His voice was calm, reflective. "There was no drama. We both felt it happening. We’re still friends — mostly for the kids. They’re everything. But it was time to let go."

I nodded, casting my eyes downward briefly. "Part of me thinks that’s sad. Like, if you’ve made it that far, it should last forever." I looked up again, locking eyes with him. "But...if it hadn’t ended, you wouldn’t be sitting here. Talking to me."

His grin curled, crooked and a little dangerous, his eyes shining with a tease I felt in my chest. "And that would’ve been a damn shame."

My heart did a quiet flip.

I murmured, half to myself: "So now it’s like...starting over. From scratch."

He leaned in just slightly, the warmth in his voice grounding and direct. "You’re...how old? Thirty? Thirty-one? Baby, still so young. Trust me...if those guys out there knew what they were missing, they’d be lined up at your feet, praying for a chance."

I bit my lip, smiling at the way his words settled on me. The age difference was there — sixteen years between us — but instead of feeling strange, it felt solid. Safe. Like he’d already lived through the things I was still learning.

Then he held out his hand, slow and sure, eyes never leaving mine. "Come on. Dance with me."

I placed my hand in his, and the moment his fingers wrapped around mine, a spark shot up my arm. His touch was firm, certain — like he’d done this a thousand times before. And still, it felt like I was the only woman he wanted to do it with tonight.

He led me through the crowd, steady but unhurried, like he knew exactly where he was going. The music pulsed low and sensual through the floor, the kind of beat that made you want to move slow and close. Gold and violet lights flickered across the dancefloor, casting his face in a warm, magnetic glow.

Jensen turned toward me, letting go of my hand just long enough to slide it around my waist. His touch was light, almost cautious, as if asking. I gave him the smallest nod.

And then we were dancing.

At first, it was innocent. Casual. Our bodies moved in sync, with a thin line of space between us — like we were still pretending this was just a dance between strangers. But his eyes…God, his eyes didn’t play pretend.

They locked onto mine, then slipped to my lips, then down the curve of my neckline and back up again. Each glance landed heavier than the last, deliberate and burning.

I rested my hands lightly on his arms. His muscles flexed under the fabric of his shirt, solid and warm. He stood tall, strong — close. Too close to ignore. Not close enough to be satisfied.

"You move really well," he murmured, low enough that only I could hear him over the music.

"So do you," I teased, smiling. "Not exactly clumsy."

That wicked grin returned, lazy and confident. "Clumsy? Sweetheart, I can do a hell of a lot more than this."

His hand slid lower, resting against the small of my back. He pulled me closer — not all the way. Just enough to feel it. To let the heat of him wrap around me without fully touching. The restraint was maddening.

I caught the scent of his cologne — warm, masculine, edged in wood and smoke. It lingered in my head like a memory I didn’t have yet.

We kept moving, our bodies falling into rhythm like we’d done this before. My thigh brushed his. His hand tightened slightly. And then — finally — he pulled me all the way in. Chest to chest. No more guessing where he stood.

"You do know you're getting more dangerous with every step, right?" he whispered suddenly, his voice brushing the shell of my ear. His breath was hot against my skin.

I exhaled slowly, letting the words settle inside me like fire.

His gaze flared with something deep and dark. He leaned in, resting his forehead gently against mine. No kiss. Just contact.

Intimate. Close. But not too far. Not yet.

Our bodies moved to the rhythm of the music, pressed tightly together as if nothing and no one else existed but the two of us. My hips circled slowly, deliberately — every pulse of the beat made my ass glide directly against his manhood.

And I felt him. Hard. Full. Undeniably turned on.

A deep, guttural sound escaped him — not a word, just a rough, restrained groan that echoed straight into the pit of my stomach. My breath caught for a moment, heat shot to my face, and my heart began pounding twice as fast.

Then his hand moved upward — gliding, certain — and brushed my hair from my right shoulder over to the left. The soft strands tickled my skin as they slipped over my collarbone. I was wearing a tight black lace top with delicate straps, leaving my shoulders and neck completely bare.

His fingertips grazed my skin casually, but every motion felt electrified. I could feel how his touch sparked goosebumps like invisible fire across my entire body.

He leaned in even closer, his mouth just inches from my ear. His breath was hot, almost whispering.

"You have no idea..." he murmured, his voice low and rough, "...what you're doing to me."

Before I could answer, I felt his lips at my earlobe, right next to my golden earring. He gently caught the soft skin between his teeth, biting down — not hard, but firm. Possessive. Demanding.

A tremble ran down my spine. I inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering closed as my fingers dug into his thighs. My body tensed, and yet there was this burning softness deep inside me, aching for more.

His hand now slid from my neck over my right shoulder and down my upper arm — slow, searching. Every inch of his touch burned into my skin. Waves of goosebumps followed, like my entire body was tuning itself to him.

And then I felt him again — this time, with the tip of his nose. He traced it along the sensitive skin of my neck, ever so lightly, ever so slowly.

My breath grew shallow as his nose moved down — from the base of my jawline to the side of my neck and finally to my shoulder.

A soft kiss followed, warm and tender, placed right where my skin was most sensitive.

I visibly trembled.

His mouth didn’t pull away — instead, it moved upward, placing wet, hungry kisses along the curve of my neck. Each one felt like a promise.

I let my head sink back against his shoulder and closed my eyes.

He enveloped me completely — with his body, his breath, his presence.

I felt small in his arms, yet at the same time so secure, so wanted, so... beautiful.

And at the same time, the fire inside me flickered higher and higher.

Unstoppable. Blazing.Hot.

I couldn’t hold back anymore.

My body moved on its own, my mind already clouded by heat and desire. I pressed myself more firmly against him, my hips once again seeking that contact, that friction that had already driven me insane.

I wanted to feel more of him. All of him.

Jensen’s reaction was immediate. His grip on my waist tightened, his fingers dug deep into the fabric of my jeans like he wanted to hold me there, pin me to that exact spot.

Then he leaned in, his breath hot against my ear, his voice hoarse, threatening, raw with restrained desire: "If you don’t stop now, baby… I’m going to completely lose control."

A shiver shot through my body. My heart pounded wildly against my ribs, my throat went dry. And even before I could think about it, my lips answered — without hesitation, without regret, without doubt: "I want you."

Silence.

His grip froze. One deep breath from him that felt like it pressed through my entire spine. Then — a growl. Deep. Dark. Right at my ear, vibrating against my skin. "Say that again."

There was nothing playful left in his voice. It was a demand. A command. A final thread his control was hanging by.

I turned in his arms — slowly, trembling with tension — my eyes searching his.

My pulse roared in my ears, my hands found his T-shirt, clawed into it, pulled him down to me, closer, so close our noses almost touched. I looked straight into his eyes. And whispered:"I. Want. You."

Something inside him shifted. A fire flared in his eyes — wild and dangerous. His gaze burned into me, made me tremble, made my knees weak. He let his eyes wander across my face — slowly, as if in slow motion — from my eyes, over my nose, my cheeks, down to my lips.

He paused there. I held my breath. Then he kissed me. And everything exploded.

His lips crashed onto mine — hot, demanding, hungry. No careful probing, no hesitation — it was a kiss like a firestorm. I opened myself to him instantly, let my hands slide into his neck, pulled him even closer, as if that were still possible.

Our mouths melted into one, our bodies burned.

I felt the full press of his body against mine, how his tongue demanded entry, how his fingers once again dug into my hips.

I was lost. And I wanted to be.

Jensen’s arms pulled me even closer to him, as if we weren’t already pressed against each other. As if there was still a single millimeter of space between our bodies that he needed to erase.

His hands moved up and down my back — slowly, deliberately, warmly — and under the thin fabric of my lace top, I felt every movement, every line he traced.

I drew in a sharp breath as his fingers ran along my spine, from the upper back all the way down to the small of it. He took his time, as if he wanted to memorize the entire shape of my back.

Then his hands paused at my hips — for just a moment — before confidently gliding lower.

His large, warm palms landed on my ass. And I gasped softly against his lips.

Without hesitation, he pulled me even tighter against him, so I could feel his hard arousal pressed into me. A deep, suppressed moan vibrated in his chest as he grabbed my ass, squeezing me firmly, pulling me into him — possessively, demanding, full of hunger.

A jolt of electricity shot through my whole body. My thoughts spun like a storm. I couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t control anything — except what I felt. And that was more than I’d ever thought possible.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulled him down to me even more, as if that were even possible, and our lips met again — hotter, more desperate, more reckless.

The kiss was wild, wet, demanding. Our tongues met in a dance that matched the intensity of our bodies.

Then — suddenly — he broke away from me, breathing heavily. His eyes searched my face, his chest rising and falling quickly. I could almost see reason knocking at the edge of his mind again.

His voice was deep and rough when he said softly: "Fuck… we’re standing in the middle of the dance floor."

I bit my lip, my heart pounding in my chest.

The music around us felt like a distant haze — everything except us had faded into the background.

But he was right — we were in the middle of the club, surrounded by people, and we could barely keep our hands off each other.

He leaned his forehead against mine, his voice hot, barely a whisper: "Should we… go to your place?"

One moment. One breath. One look into his eyes. I nodded. "Yes. Please."

As soon as the last word had slipped from my lips, Jensen reacted — immediately, without a moment of hesitation.

His fingers closed around mine — firm, warm, purposeful — and he pulled me through the crowd, which still danced wildly to the music, as if nothing outside this moment mattered.

I felt his body heat spreading across my skin, even through the swarm of people, light, and noise. His hand held mine like it already belonged to him. It wasn’t a timid lead — it was a clear pull. He knew exactly what he wanted. And I was more than willing to follow.

The scent of his cologne surrounding me completely. His thumb circling into my palm like a silent promise of everything still to come.

At the edge of the dance floor, he glanced toward the bar. And I saw it too.

Misha and Jared stood there, a little off to the side, half in shadow. Jensen gave them just a quick nod — a short, wordless signal. As we passed, I caught Misha’s gaze. He grinned broadly, raised his brows, and subtly gave Jensen a thumbs-up. Jared shook his head slightly, but he was grinning too — just like friends do when they know something is starting that could change everything.

We were only a few steps from the exit, my heart racing, the cool night air already brushing against me through the open doors...when suddenly it hit me like a jolt through my body.

"Shit! Nick!"

I came to an abrupt halt. Jensen noticed it immediately, turned to face me, confusion in his eyes. His brows furrowed slightly, his hand still tightly holding mine.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice rough from whispering and kissing.

"I forgot Nick. My best friend. He has my bag. I can’t just…" I shook my head, completely thrown off. Guilt mixed with my desire, briefly making it waver. "I need to let him know. Wait here for me, please."

Jensen looked at me for a moment. Then his expression softened. Understanding flickered in his eyes, but something else too: the hunger was still there, only barely tamed.

"Be quick, baby," he murmured. And before I could respond, he leaned in and kissed me.

Gentle. Slow. As if he wanted to taste me one more time. His lips moved against mine — tender and yet so demanding that my knees nearly buckled.

I felt his hand on my back, drawing me closer, my lips trembling slightly beneath his. I couldn’t help it — I kissed him back, forgot everything for a second, forgot where I was, who I was, that Nick even existed.

Just Jensen. Just his lips. Just this feeling of completely losing myself.

He was the one who finally pulled away. His forehead stayed resting against mine. I inhaled deeply, forced myself to open my eyes.

"I’ll be right back," I whispered. I forced myself to take a step back, to pull away from him. Barely managing it.

Then I turned and disappeared back into the pulsing darkness of the club —leaving my heart with him, right there, where he was waiting.

To be continued...

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Adhd will be like “you’re not dyslexic, you just don’t read the whole word. Good luck with math you dumb fuck”

[cathnospam]

(When Bakugo speaks and it’s italics it means he’s speaking in English and when you speak in italics it means you’re speaking Japanese.)

Everybody keeps wanting more of Bakugo and his Foreign GF with their language barrier so here:

When Bakugo first met you all those years ago it didn’t click immediately you couldn’t speak Japanese, all you did was understand a few phrases.

You both were doing Hero work in America and you never really spoke, just giving everybody smiles, waves, and nods, and so he thought you were mute for a moment.

“Do you speak or something? Why don’t you talk?”

When you gave him a confused look he kept yelling until you covered his mouth and typed: “I barely speak Japanese. Sorry.”

Being so naive if you knew him you wouldn’t have dared put your hand to his mouth, but surprisingly enough he didn’t mind it, he did grab your wrist after though. Which is why he took your phone and stored his number in there stating if you want to speak to him (Because of course you would he’s Bakugo the future #5 hero in Japan) then text him.

Weird. Very weird guy.

Eventually he started to approach you more, forgetting you can’t speak his language so he either points or texts you.

He was only in the States for a few more days, but he managed to make some progress getting to know you even with the difficulties behind it.

He did however managed to learn a couple new words for you.

“Hungry.”

“What?”

He smacks his face and points across the street to a restaurant, “Food.”

“Oh!” You giggle at his accent, “Yes we can go to the restaurant.”

“Rest…taurant…tcht…..stupid.”

Bakugo became a decent learner, English was hard as hell to work on so most of it was broken, but when he got back to Japan you both had study lessons together through FaceTime and the few times a year when you visit.

He taught you Japanese and you taught him English.

Years later when you finally came to visit is when he decided to ask you out.

“Girlfriend….my girlfriend….or date —- I sound so fucking stupid trying to ask you out—whatever.”

“Are you …asking me out?”

The blondie was impressed by how fast you learned, seeing that you still struggled with verbs. Which he definitely clowned you for, but you didn’t have a clue about it.

He scoffs and nods reluctantly , somewhat jealous you don’t have too many complications with Japanese as much as he thought anymore.

“Date….later.”

You felt your cheeks get warm, it’s not like you didn’t expect it, considering how much touchier he’s gotten towards you since you got there and even during texting he throws in a few flirts and compliments, he wasn’t a bad guy what so ever so often course you say yes.

“How about 7pm tonight after class?”

“That’s my job to say the time!”

“Yeaaaahhh I still don’t understand what you said, but Immma assume from context you’re upset.”

He just blinks at you with a frustrated look, and his mouth in a straight line, only hearing the words, “Upset” and “What you said” being translated in his brain, when you speak english you sound like a sim.

His words by the way.

The thing about you not understanding Japanese completely is that there were so many times through out the date he would compliment you and say some of the most sweetest things that he knew you wouldn’t understand.

“You look stunning in that dress.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Your smile is gorgeous.”

“All I understood was smile. You want me to smile more?”

“No!”

He managed to get away with a lot. And so did you.

The first date you both had went more than perfect, it was cute because there was still moments where you and him managed to practice different words to each other. He spoke in broken English to show you how to eat Pho and you spoke Japanese to order your own food.

He was a bit proud to say the least.

When the date had to come to its sad close he walked you back to your hotel, you wanted to invite him back, seeing as you clearly felt a connection from him not just as a friend, but maybe more however you didn’t want him to think you were easy.

Not that he would’ve thought so anyways he was hoping you would invite him back.

Bakugo looked at you expectantly when you unlocked your door, almost as if he was waiting to hear something he probably wouldn’t even comprehend. Instead though you give him something better first when you place your lips on his, “That is what you call a kiss.”

“Kiss.” He repeats, accent still thick and raspy, his hand rubbing your waist, your body being ever pled by his natural warmth, “Kiss…me…more.”

Giggling you do so, which did indeed lead to you inviting him back to your room for learning more about these kisses he loves so damn much now.

[morganalatina21]

Too Sweet - OP81

When Lando tries to play matchmaker with his two friends, the negative response comes from someone he did not imagine

or

When Oscar wants to prove you wrong

warnings: English isn't my first language, not proofread, mentions of alcohol and weed, smut, unprotected sex, car sex. Smut have warning before it starts and after it ends! - MDNI!!!!

word count: around 2k

"What do you mean 'no'?" Lando looked at you as if you grown a second head. "Don't play nonchalant about this, that's his thing. I've heard you ramble about him before."

"Yep." You agreed, sipping your drink.

"So why the fuck not?" He crossed his arms. "You'd be bloody great together."

"Do you really think that, muppet?" You bit back, eyes still lifeless staring back at him. Lando nodded. "You don't understand man. I like him? Yes. Very much. So much is inebriating." You confessed, looking almost... tired?

"But I've come to the terms that we would never work." Your shoulders moved up and down. "We are so fucking different Lan, and you know that. He's like, kind and a ray of sunshine. I'm a mess, you should know this, I'm friends with you, that's telling."

"I'm gonna ignore this outrage statement because I'm on a bigger mission here." He continued, knowing you were deviating the conversation. "The fuck is that coming from?"

"When you like someone that much, you star to try and match your stuff with them." You shrugged, adjusting your hair on the mirror. "And as much as I want to, we just- don't. That's like you said, he is nonchalant, I'm way too chalant. He is so sweet, Im bitter. He is all composed and... I dunno... Like those fitness influencers who have insane wellness routines? You know. And I'm the entire opposite. He's sweet as a grape."

"Are you quoting Hozier's Too Sweet at me right now?" His green eyes looked at you in disbelief. "Are you for real?"

"Kinda."

"Okay I know you may be having doubts, but why not try? It's better than not try, right?"

"Okay now you're just quoting The Good Place at me." You mocked, hearing people bang on the door to the bathroom. "But you know that I'm way too down bad for him to just try and go along with it. I'm usually cool with this kinds of stuff, but... I know I'll just be delusional and want more with him."

"So make us both a favor and drop it, because I don't wanna have my heart broken, and you don't wanna hear me whining about it, sir Norris."

Oscar's eyes were trained on you the moment you left the bathroom with Lando at his house party. You and Lando knew each other since kids, and it was very obvious to everyone in that house, including him, that nothing would ever happen between the two of you.

You noticed his glance and just offered him a small smile before turning and starting a conversation with Max Fewtrell, yours and Lando's best friend.

"Thought you said that'd work." He commented when Lando came up to him. "I really shouldn't trust your matchmaking skills, remember the redhead you tried to hook me up with in Vegas?"

"Hey, she was hot! And liked koalas."

"She liked spiders."

"You grew up with both, mate, whatever." Oscar shooked his head with a smile on his face. "And she wants you, she's just worried you might not want her."

"What?"

"She didn't believe when I said you were down to meet her. She thinks I'm setting her up with someone who does not want her."

"Why would she think that? You did that before?"

"Not the case right now. She thinks that because she basically doesn't think she's good enough for you."

The softest "what" came out of Piastri's lips.

"Yeah, she even quoted Hozier at me."

"I... don't know what that means."

Later that day, when he was in bed, smeling a bit like alcohol and feeling his body light from the drinking, Lando's words came back to him. He was waiting to sober up more, although he was probably the most sober out of everyone in that party, including you, who at some point started trying to teach Pietra how to creepwalk, to which, you failed.

He kept watching you that night, from some distance, of course, to try and understand what you meant to Lando when you said "too different".

And to be honest, he kinda got that.

You weren't necessarily and extrovert, at least with those you didn't know, but with your friends, wow were you outgoing.

You and Max were doing shots at random moments of the night, a bet to see who would fall first. You'd drink whataver he drank, and he'd drink whatever you drank.

He smoked some weed, so you did too.

You took jello shots made purely out of the cheapest vodka you could find, so he did too.

Lando and Pietra were trying to keep up with the two of you, but it was in vain. You two were on fire.

And to be honest, Oscar liked that.

You probably didn't see it, but you were both bold, only on different aspects of life.

And he wanted to show you that.

So, phone in hand, he texted Lando, who was already on his own room, probably with some fling of his. The party had died down and only a few people were left, including you, who were downstairs probably playing truth or dare or never have I ever with the other survivors of the night, and him, who was in a guest room.

[What did u meant when you mentioned Hozier earlier?] seen 2:38a.m.

[she quoted his song to me]

[too sweet, look it up im busy] seen 2:40a.m.

[At least tell me the name of the song so i can search it, man] 2:40a.m.

[are youo actually stupid? the name of the song is TOO SWEET, im not compliemnting you mate.] seen 2:40a.m.

[i knew that] seen 2:41a.m.

[sure you did] seen 2:41 a.m.

Spotify open. He typed down those two words and sure enough, a song by an Irish man popped up. The beat was kinda animated, and he didn't though to bother searching up the internet to see what other thought of that song.

He took his own conclusion.

"If you can sit in a barrell, maybe I'll wait". In his slightly disturbed mind, that meant he still had a shot. He just needed to prove you two weren't so different.

And while drunk, he took an oath to do that.

.

For the 2024 season, Lando had hired you as his personal counselor, which was just an excuse for you to travel around the world with him.

The reason why? Oscar didn't knew, but he wasn't complaining.

That meant seeing you around the paddock a lot, even til the highest hours of the night after each race, post-debriefs and everything.

Today was one of those days.

It was after a session of FP1 and FP2 of the US Grand Prix, and the post-practice debrief had just ended, people moving around and starting to leave.

Oscar gathered his stuff and was ready to walk to his own car and leave.

That's when he spotted you.

On one of the halls from the McLaren hospitality, walking around in a jacket he did not recognize as any of the teams merch.

"Are you switching scuderias?" He asked, nodding the jacket direction, startling you.

You looked down, almost forgetting which clothes you were wearing. "Oh that's just from the next NASCAR winning team."

"You like NASCAR?"

"I was very frustrated when I realized Cars was about NASCAR and not F1, I might switch motorsports." You smiled.

"Good luck cheering for Joe Gibbs."

"Oh which one do you choose? Spire?"

"No, never. 23XI is way better."

You rolled your eyes at his statement, a small smile still on your lips, a huge one on his.

"I'll laugh to your face when Denny Hamlin ends Riley on track next cup, Piastri."

"It's on, Y/ln."

Two days later, after the Grand Prix, Oscar dropped the bomb on the interview.

"... Maybe we should just adopt NASCAR rules and end things on track." A knowing smile on his lips, looking at the camera.

He wanted you to know. He made sure of it, it wasn't just some comment, there was more.

"Mate, NASCAR rules? Are you insane?" Lando asked later, watching you perk up at that mention.

Oscar smiled and watched you, barely giving his teammate any recognition. You searched the internet, the key words you never thought would be put together: "Oscar Piastri + NASCAR".

And sure enough, there it was, the interview.

You looked up at him, slightly flabbergasted and changed your expression to a smile.

And God, did he love that smile.

.

"Disrespectfully, Fuck Papaya Rules."

Oscar phisically perked up when he heard that. He was strolling around the paddock and caught you talking with reserve McLaren driver, Pato O'Ward.

"Not only that's dumb, but honestly, fuck-ass name for a strategy."

He chuckled at that, hearing you from around the corner.

"Honestly I don't know if I'd follow that if I ever fill in for any of them." Pato admitted, shrugging. "I understand when it's for the Constructors Championship but Drivers? Fuck that."

"My favorite moment so far is when Oscar cut him right on the beginning, it was kind of a 'fuck your championship' moment, I live for that."

"Lando's gonna fire you if he hears you say that." Pato laughed. "Remember when you hit him because he didn't spray Oscar on the Hungary podium?"

"And I'd do it again."

"You hit Lando to defend me?" Oscar asked later that day, on the parking lot, as you were waiting for your friend.

You looked up at him and his smug smile.

That actually caught you unexpected. Oscar was coy, you knew that, but he was getting progressively bolder and more challenging.

It messed with your brain.

"You eavesdropping?"

"I just like to hear when people talk about me." He admitted. "Don't you?"

"No. I hate knowing what people think of me."

Oscar chuckled. That was kind of perfect, because he wasn't good with words.

"I promise I won't tell you what I think of you if I can give you a ride back to the hotel."

That was the main difference between you and Oscar: you were provocative, alluring, liked to get under people's skin, while he was straightforward, deadpan and liked to see people's reaction to brutal honesty.

"Sure."

.

It was the last race of a triple header, Brasil.

Five DNFs, the race and the quali delayed so many times, it was exhausting. Oscar finished P8, which, yes, was a bad position, but he was glad he at least finished the race, unlike five other drivers.

He was so tired, and it showed on his face.

No one even dared ask him or Lando how they were feeling because it was obvious, so he pratically slipped away from the mechanics and engineers.

And he found you. Sitting on the floor, back to the wall that separated his and Lando's driver room, texting rapidly.

He wanted so bad to have you to him, to talk to you before media duties, to have you on his driver room alone. But he and Lando weren't exactly on the best terms, so he couldn't just snatch away his friend.

Or couldn't he?

"Lando's gonna be late." He said, snatching your attention immediately. "If you want to come in."

"Yeah, in a sec." You went back to typing right away.

"You texting someone?" You nodded but answered back:

"Since when do you care?"

"I don't know, I just want your attention." There it was again, the honesty. "I mean, the person you might be texting can be cool and all but, do they drive at 300km/h for McLaren?"

You stopped, looking up at him, almost not believing those words actually came out of his mouth.

"He doesn't..." He smiled. "He actually drives for Mercedes and is a 7 time world champion."

"You're texting Lewis?" Oscar asked softly, smile vanishing. "Isn't he too old for you?"

"First of all, Lewis Hamilton could never be 'too old'. And second, It's not like you're thinking." You pushed yourself up, entering his room. "I'm just congratulating him on the Senna homage and asking what he wants to get me tickets for the next Kendrick Lamar concert."

"I don't know how many times I can offer to babysit Roscoe."

Oscar closed the door behind him, a sigh of relief leaving his lips.

He launched himself on the nearest armchair he could find and groaned, feeling his body ache, trying to stop the shakes on his body from being wet with the cold wind.

"Are you okay?" Y/n asked, voice dripping with concern.

"Yeah. My back's killing me, and I think I'm going to have a cold."

"Take a hot shower, I'll grab you some medicine." She instantly put the phone down, marching towards the door, but was interrupted when Oscar held her wrist.

"Stay." The word came out murmured, a gentle plea, his eyes closed. "Please."

It was weird seeing him like that, so vulnerable, so desirous, it made your heart fumble when he opened those soft brown eyes. So you nodded.

"But you're gonna lie down and get warm. I don't want you sick."

He obliged, draggin himself -and you on the processes, because he couldn't let go of you- towards the improvised bed he had on his driver room.

"But what if-" Oscar began, starting to lie down. "I get sick so I can escape from the media duties?"

"Can you do that?"

"It's worth a shot."

You smiled, pulling a chair to be close to him still, to which he thanked with a smile.

Surely after, Oscar fell asleep. You know it wasn't ideal, but you stood by and watched him peacfully sleeping. He was so soft, so cat-like, so pretty.

Your heart ached with how much you liked him.

And maybe, even though he didn't knew, he was showing you how you two could be a match.

When he woke up, half an hour later, you weren't there already, but he found the medicine you said he needed with a small note that said "You snore like a cat purrs (take care), Y/n."

He smiled ear to ear, almost all of the fatigue gone. He folded the note and tucked it in one of the pockets of his bag, leaving to the unfortunate meeting with the media.

Later that day, as Y/n was getting to her hotel room when she noticed something hanging from the doorknob.

It was a keychain in the shape of a cat, with a small note that read "To remember me".

Y/n rolled her eyes, but with a small smile on her face, that turned into a shock expression the moment she saw the things attached to it: two tickets for the Kendrick Lamar concert.

"Oscar Jack Piastri, you little devil."

.

"How was the concert?" Oscar asked, a knowing smile on his lips.

Y/n smiled widely. It has been a couple of months since Oscar Piastri started pursuing you; you ended up knowing what he was up to when Lando commented that he was determined.

And dear God, he was.

And it moved you.

You don't remember ever someone putting this much effort for you. That alone, warranted some points on his advantage.

"It was good, I actually ended up meeting Snoop Dogg also and we talked a lot about West Side." You rambled, watching his eyes get lost, trying to search his brain for any information about any of the words you just said. "I'm just messing with you. It really meant a lot to me so, thank you."

"Anytime."

"You need a ride to the hotel?" He offered. "Think Lando's not going back any time soon."

You looked back to the door for the party, the music still so loud, lights flashing in different colors and you could almos feel the smell of alcohol even from this distance.

Usually, you'd be inside going crazy too, celebrating that the team you work for had finally won the Constructor's Championship after so many years not knowing what that feels like.

But you were tired. So you took Oscar's offer.

His car smelt new, even though he had this car for quite some time now, his cologne, a strong woody scent mixed with the fresh odor of the seats.

"So, how does it feel, huh?" You asked right after he started driving. "Constructor's champions."

"It's amazing." He answered, and you could feel the tiredness and happiness from his tone. "It's exactly that, a reward for all the hard work."

"Driver's championship next?"

"For me I hope so."

"Next season's gonna be amazing." You smiled, hiding the sadness. "I mean, five rookies on the grid, Hamilton at Ferrari, hopefully Max's downfall?"

"May God hear you, Y/n."

"This sport was missing some emotion." Oscar stared at you from the side of his eyes as you entered the highway, which was completely desert due to high hours of the night. "I mean, to you guys there's always emotion but that's because you're driving, to us just watching cars go around and no overtakes, no fun business is kinda boring."

A mischiveous glint shone on Oscar's eyes as he pushed the throttle pedal further and further with each word you said.

"Osc, what are you doing?"

"Just thought you'd like a piece of the emotion like we have." He opened the windows, a huge smile on.

The adrenaline rushed through your muscles, eyes blown wide as the velocity increased, starting to grip the seat as you laughed. Oscar was so normal about it he was even driving with only one hand on the wheel.

"Fuck it, Imma act like a dog."

Oscar laughed genuinely as you loosened the seatbelt and propped your head out of the window, the wind forcing your skin and giving you goosebumps.

You could barely breathe but that was a whole part of the fun.

"Oh my God this is amazing!"

"Emotion enough for you?"

"God, how are you guys so normal after every race?" You asked, sitting back down, heart beating so fast inside your chest. "I'd feel like I'm on the top of the world, honestly."

The song on the radio pushed your pulse to quicken even more. You opted for keeping your head inside to talk to Oscar, but one hand was out, dancing with the wind.

"God, I'm gonna miss this."

"What?!"

Shit.

He wasn't supposed to hear that, not yet.

You sighed, putting a hand on high thigh, feeling him tense up. "You can slow down now." He did, eyes constantly darting back to your hand, touching him. "The reason I was flying around with Lando and the team was because he wanted to give me new opportunities. And I got one in Italy, as a fashion designer. This is my last night working for McLaren."

Oscar couldn't believe what he was hearing, all his effort, all that he was dreaming for, to have you by his side every race just like this season but this time, as his partner.

He kind of thanked you for telling him to slow down, because his head was spinning.

"Italy is close to Monaco, no?"

"It's in Milan, a three hour drive." You answered, lightly caressing his thigh. "Lando already knew of that possibility, no one was supposed to get attached to me. I'm sorry, Osc."

He parked the car in front of the hotel, both hands now on the wheel as he was trying to calm down and grasp the reality of everything going on.

You were leaving.

He felt your hand lifting up from his pants and immediately grabbed it.

"I'm not giving you up."

"Osc-" "No."

"I didn't come this far just to lose you, not now."

"You're not losing me." He looked at you. "I'll just- I'll be in the country next door." You smiled tightly. "But it's okay if you don't want someone who can't accompany you, I get it."

"You'd wait for me?"

"What?"

Oscar blinked, his grip on your hand tightening, eyes intense as if he was begging.

"Wait for me, to be back from the races, wait for the breaks?"

"Osc that's thing long relationships go through, we don't know if it'd work and-"

He held your face. Gently, sweet, almost too sweet.

"We have until March. I want to try. I could never ask you to give up on something you want so bad, so that's why I'm asking you to not give up on us."

Us. That knocked all the air from your lungs.

"I can see it in your face. You want this just as badly as I do." Oscar's voice was low, sending shivers down your spine with the way he talked. "I already showed you how much of a match we can be, let me show you we can make this work."

You shouldn't, you really really shouldn't. If it all went south you didn't know if you could recover from him.

But it was hard to think when he was this close.

So you made a decision.

Even if it slipped away, it'd have claw marks from you. You were ready to try and keep him in your life with all your strength.

So you launched yourself forward, capturing his lips.

SMUT AHEAD - YOU'VE BEEN WARNED

His kiss was desperate, hands full on launching themselves at your body and holding you tight, as if you'd start to slip away right this moment.

"Osc! On the car?" You laughed, breaking the kiss, to which he immediately bent his head down to kiss your neck.

"Just this once." He was almost begging, trying to get you free from the seatbelt and into his lap. "I've wanted you for so long, love, please."

Too sweet? No, just the right amount.

You clicked your seatbelt and pushed it away, hopping onto his seat, back meeting the steering wheel, chest to chest, knees barely on the seat from how big his legs were.

The impression was that Oscar was ravenous, like a hungry man, devouring every inch of your skin he could, levaing behind a trace of his saliva and maybe some hickies, but neither of you cared.

His breathing was uneven, hands roaming your body like it was the curves of a circuit he needed to remember and dominate.

"Osc-" You hummed, feeling his hard-on pressing against you, dry humping it, pulling moans from both of you. "Fuck!"

"Didn't peg you as a tits guy." You laughed upon noticing both his hands lodged around your boobs, guiding you through them to ride his erection.

"I'm a Y/n guy, everything about you drives me insane." He confessed, moving his right hand to your ass, moving your body around his lap, feeling your thighs shake against his hips. "Love, please."

Your hands traveled down his chest, nails grazing his skin on top of the formal suit he had on. He looked like a prince, even though he was ready to fuck you like a soldier. Finally, your hands worked fast to take his belt off and open his pants.

His cock, finally freed from his underwear, was so hard already and leaking with pre-cum. You smeared it around as started playing with his tip, feeling his hips buck upwards.

You were looking at his face atently, seeing his expressions falter at your touch.

Oscar's eyes found your and they were dark like never before.

"You're such a fucking tease." He complained, stirring around, trying to feel more of your touch.

"Someone has to take the lead, huh?"

A spark flew past his eyes, hand moving up and grabbing a fistful of your hair, yanking it harshly.

"Osc!" You whined, head thrown back as his grip didn't loosen even slightly, sending a heat wave down your body, allodging itself in your pulsating core.

"Someone has to take the lead, right love?" He snapped back, a huge smile on his face as he watched you shake. "Enough with the teasing, pull your panties to the side and sink on my dick."

Fumbling with your hands, you found the slit of your dress and tucked your hand inside, founding the laced fabric that was already drenched, pulling it to the side.

Oscar helped you lodge on top of him, lining up your entrance and his lenght, one hand still holding you tightly by the hair and the other moving your ass around.

"Fuck, love!" He moaned as you started sitting on him, caressing your head, making you shiver and tighten even more. "When you feel it all inside you, you can take the lead back, m'kay?"

Your lips met each other's, drinking the moans away.

The further you sank on him, the more he sank on the driver's seat, feeling all the tension leave his body, finally feeling your insides.

Fully inside, he let go of your hair as he promised and allodged both hands on your hips, gripping you bot not forcing you to move.

"Think you're gonna last?" You asked, opening the buttons to his shirt, positioning both hans on each side of his chest.

He opened his eyes, the dark hungry was still there, much softer now, he looked drunk and so languidly happy. "We can leave the torture for the next times, can't we love?"

You wanted to tease him, and say maybe, that now the lead was back to your hands, you were going to make him last painfully, but you felt the tight knot on your low womb, and knew even you weren't going to last.

"Okay, Osc."

And you started to ride him, watching him give in and just become a moaning mess, still holding tight to your waist but completely gone.

"Fuck, love, you're- you're too good!"

You also didn't thought Oscar was going to be so talkative during sex, given his nonchalant ways, but when given pleasure he turned into a bubbling mess, talking nonsense.

"So good, so worth the wait." He mumbled, pulling you closer and moaning in your lips as you two kissed again. "You ride me so well." He kept going, as you started kissing his neck, wanting to hear more. "Don't stop, please don't stop, love."

His hands restored to gripping your waist and travelling up sometimes to carress your tits on top of your dress.

"You should be wearing less clothes, love, you're so pretty." He complained. "Are you close?"

"Mhmm."

"So am I. Cum with me, love." He groaned, voice too raw for his own good, messing around with your head. "Come on, baby." His hips started snapping up, meeting you halfway your ride.

A strained whine left your lips, hugging his shoulders and propping your head on your arms, launching your moans directly into his ear, pushing him further down his high.

"I'm- I'm gonna-"

Both your bodies started to shake and his big arms hugged you, pulling you closer, locking you in him as his cum spurted inside you, your knot finally snapping.

"You okay?" He asked a few moments later, feeling you go limp on top of him. "Still with me?"

"Shut it, Osc."

"Yeah, you're back."

You laughed, hugging him one last time before pulling up from him, immediately putting your panties back in place and returning to the passanger's seat as he zipped his pants back on.

He turned on the AC to clear the windows that became foggy from the heat irradiating from both of you.

You fixed your hair as much as you could, knowing it'd probably be ruined again when you went up to his hotel room. He offered you his blazer, to which you happily took and let it engulf you, hiding the hickied left on your neck.

He went around the car to open your door for you, helping you on your feet as he noticed your legs still shaking. He had that smug smile you got used to on the beggining of your flirting and it made you want to kiss him stupid.

"You think your plan of convincing me we're a match was 100% successfull?" You asked, crossing the hotel lobby still holding his arm, heading toward the elevator.

He leaned into you, voice just above a whisper, only for you to hear. "My cum is leaking out your pussy, you tell me."

You suffocated a smile, desperately pressing the button for the elevator.

SMUT ENDS HERE- WELCOME BACK!

.

"Okay so, I need to know." Lando asked, it was the day after the celebration, you were sharing a breakfast on the McLaren private jet with the rest of the crew.

You were sitting beside Oscar, Lando in front of you two, a little hungover but still curious.

"We're not telling you anything."

"You owe me this, I had to sit through one hour meeting with the pr team about not fucking in cars in the parking lot."

You choked a laugh, tecnically your contract with Lando was over, and you weren't a part of the McLaren anymore, so you got to sleep while Oscar and Lando had to be awake for a very stern lecture.

"Honestly, if you keep doing shit like this I'm gonna make you two pay for my therapy."

"Bill me, mate." Oscar snapped back, a huge smile on his face as he took one sip of a milk glass.

"Fuck you!" Lando answered immediately, shock written all over his face. "Honestly, I should've never put you two together."

"You didn't do shit." You retorted, throwing Lando even further down the insane hill.

He started to ramble about how he was the first matchmaker, how he handled you two talking about each other to him and it almost drove him insane, while you and Oscar just smiled.

You layed your head on Oscar's shoulder, sighing.

He was sweet, but never too sweet for you.

You breathed in his scent, a sharp woody masculine perfume that mixed perfectly with your sweet one. Exactly how you two were supposed to be, boldness in sweetness and sweetness in boldness, completing each other.

And whatever was going to happen to the both of you, you'd fight it, like he fought for you.

april 6th, 2025

Reblogs and feedback are appreciated! ♡

[sergeantbuckybarnes]

truth will set you free // bob reynolds

Summary: You are injected with a truth serum during a mission, and when you return to the Watchtower, you must avoid Bob in order not to spill your feelings for him, but this causes Bob to believe he has done something to upset you.

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Thunderbolts!Reader

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: bob's self-doubt, forced love confession (cause reader is under the influence of a serum), misunderstandings, fluff

A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. I didn't want to wait any longer to post this, so it hasn't been proofread, I'm sorry folks!

My first time writing for Bob!!! I hope I did him justice, and I apologize if he's a bit OOC. I'm still trying to figure him out.

marvel masterlist | main masterlist

When you had a hunch, you were usually right. 

It was like a faint whisper in your mind, guiding you through the uncertainty and helping you make the right choice just in time. You could say that instinct was your secret weapon—a trusted friend in moments when logic alone couldn't see the whole picture. Even when doubts crept in, deep down, you knew to listen to that subtle nudge that had saved you more than once.

But this time, you shut it down and ignored all the red alarms. 

Partly because you didn’t want to let the team down, and partly because you convinced yourself you were overthinking.

You pushed forward, dismissing the uneasy feeling gnawing at the back of your mind and telling yourself that everything was under control. Yet, deep inside, a small voice still murmured warnings, reminding you that ignoring your intuition could lead to unforeseen trouble.

And that was exactly what happened. 

Regardless of your abilities, certain missions challenged your boundaries, particularly those requiring retrievals from shady labs, which were your least favorite. 

You wouldn’t hesitate to fight aliens, villains from other universes, or even Valentina. But you despised slippery scientists—those who utilized their brains and intelligence to create questionable serums and conduct human trials. 

There was something about their manipulation of life itself, their blatant disregard for morality, that made your stomach churn. You had witnessed the damage firsthand—innocent lives turned into test subjects, minds warped by their greed and arrogance.

You were perceptive and quick-witted, but the tension of the moment when you broke into the lab and the so-called brain people started to fight back caught you off guard. They moved with a calculated experience that belied their appearance, more than someone who spends over 12 hours a day in a white coat, peering at cells through a microscope, would have.

Ava wasn’t fast enough to reach you in time.

And before you could react, a sharp sting shot through your leg—an injection delivered with clinical precision. You barely had time to register what was happening before the world tilted, and everything blurred around the edges. The voices of your teammates were drowned out by the deafening chaos, and then, you were fighting not only to stay conscious but also to try to understand what was being injected into you and what it might do.

Despite the circumstances that led you to the vault on that fateful day, and despite being part of a team of people just like you, as well as all the bad decisions you've made along the way, you had always considered yourself an honest person.

So being injected with a truth serum wasn’t the worst outcome, right?

But that strange sense of detachment wasn’t you. Not at all.

Your instincts, the voice in your head that usually kept you grounded, had fallen silent. They were drowned out by the serum rushing through your veins.

Your mouth moved on autopilot.

No filter.

No control.

Despite your strenuous efforts to keep them contained, words spilled out. Confessions, secrets, and fears poured forth unfiltered and raw.

And there was one confession you simply could not allow to escape.

“It’s probably just temporary,” Yelena said with a reassuring look. “We’ll run some tests when we arrive back at the tower.”

Everything would be fine.

That’s what they promised.

But you weren’t so sure of that.

You had been confined in your room for two weeks, completely isolated. There was no interaction with anyone other than Yelena, who brought you food every day. However, she remained silent, respecting your request. And you battled to keep your words contained, to preserve control over what you might say.

The atmosphere in the tower was tense and divisive, to put it mildly.

Walker thought you were overreacting; he didn’t see the big deal. So what if you couldn’t lie? Did you have something to hide?

Ava and Yelena, on the other hand, seemed sympathetic to your situation. They understood the gravity of what you were going through.

Bucky, who knew what it felt like not to be in control of what you do and say, was also empathetic. He'd even explained the predicament to Sam in hopes he could help him find a solution.

Alexei... Well, he was the same as always.

And then there was Bob.

Adorable, sweet, and awkward Bob.

He had been eagerly anticipating your return from the mission. He missed you when you were gone, even though he lacked the courage to say so out loud.

Bob was confused.

Why hadn’t you come out of your room? Why hadn’t you been around? Had you been hurt during the mission? Had he done something to upset you? Were you mad at him? 

Deep down, he knew it was only a matter of time before you got tired of him.

‘You’re too much.’

‘What did you expect, idiot?’

“It was… a tough mission. She needs to be alone.” That was what Yelena had told him in an effort to soothe him, knowing how close he was to you, how much he cared, and how his feelings lingered beyond friendship.

However, her words did not have the expected effect. 

Tonight, he couldn’t endure it any longer. The nightmares had returned, creeping into his mind with a relentless, smothering power.

The darkness had once faded when he sought comfort in your presence, finding solace in your embrace. You had become his safe sanctuary, where the shadows could not reach him.

But now that refuge was gone. 

He stood outside your door, fumbling with the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He hesitated, unsure whether to knock or quietly retreat into the shadows. The wait stretched painfully until finally, he drew in a shaky breath, summoning every ounce of courage he had left to reach out.

“Yelena, is that you?” 

Your voice sounded faint through the door, with a tinge of hesitancy that he picked up on.

“I-I’m Bob.” 

He heard you sigh, and he knew you'd approached the door.

“Bob, it’s not a good time.”

His stomach clenched, but he pressed on, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please, I-I need you.” His words were filled with desperation. “I had a nightmare.”

There was no immediate answer, only a prolonged silence that seemed to last forever. For a minute, he worried if you were ignoring him, if you didn’t care enough to respond. Minutes seemed to crawl by as he remained rooted in place, caught in the stillness of the hallway. Still, he stayed there, vulnerable and trembling, hoping—praying—that somehow, you would hear his silent plea.

You slowly pushed the door open, the creak of the hinges slicing through the dense silence like a fragile whisper. The dim, flickering light from the hallway cast faint shadows across your face, accentuating the concern etched in your features. His eyes, glassy and pleading, met yours as he hesitated for a while longer.

Without fully thinking, you reached out and pulled him into your bedroom, locking the door behind him. He sank onto the edge of your bed, shoulders quivering, voice barely a whisper as he broke the silence.

“Thank you,” he murmured, eyes searching yours for reassurance.

You moved closer instinctively, trying to maintain your composure, fighting the urge to let anything slip. It crushed your heart to see Bob in this condition, knowing you were to blame. You were so set on avoiding him that you hadn't considered how much it would impact him not to have you at his side, especially at night.

“Come here,” you whispered, your voice soothing. Reaching out, you drew him into your embrace, feeling his body relax slightly as he buried his face in your shoulder. 

He clung to you tightly. You stroked his hair, murmuring soothing words and giving him the reassurance he desperately needed.

You stayed there, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he gradually found calm. The tension in his body loosened, and his heartbeat steadied into a peaceful rhythm, no longer pounding with dread. 

“Are you mad at me?” he finally asked, his voice small, almost cracking.

“What? No, of course not.”

“You've been locked in your room for two weeks.”

“I know, but—” You bite your tongue, fighting to keep the truth from spilling.

The last two weeks had been easy in some ways, since you had zero contact with anyone. But now, having Bob here with you, in your arms, looking so vulnerable and so starved of affection, your resolve wavered.

“Yelena said something went wrong during the last mission.”

“It did,” the words were out of your mouth before you realized.

‘Don’t ask what happened, please, don’t ask what happened.’

‘Don’t ask what happened, please, don’t ask what happened.’

‘Don’t ask what happened, please, don’t ask what happened.’

He stretched out gingerly, his hand trembling as he gently stroked your arm. “What happened?”

And, like clockwork, the truth spilled out again. “I was injected with a truth serum.”

Bob's eyes widened in amazement. “You–you what?”

“We were in the lab, and this guy appeared out of nowhere. I didn't see him coming. I couldn't react in time, and before I realized it, he’d injected me with a syringe.”

His expression sank as he tried to digest what you had just disclosed. “That's why you've been locked up here.”

You nodded. “I am not sure how much longer the effect will persist. And my mouth can't seem to control itself right now,” you admitted, your tone tinted with frustration. “I keep feeling like I want to say things I shouldn't—as if my thoughts are spilling out before I can stop them. It's like my brain and mouth are warring, and I can't keep the words locked inside.”

“But the team… They know, right? They wouldn’t judge you if you said too much. And it’s not like you had something to hide.” 

Bob struggled to grasp the situation and your reasoning for isolation. 

Although he had just told you that the team would not judge you, he knew Walker would probably make some snide comment, maybe even take advantage of the situation. He still believed that the guy was an asshole.

“It’s not the team I’m hiding from; it’s you.” 

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and you immediately saw the impact. It was written all over Bob’s face. And you hated yourself for hurting him, again.

“You… You are hiding from me?” He stumbled over his words, the crack in his tone reflecting the disheartened expression that washed over him. “Why?”

And then it happened. The two weeks of isolation had been pointless. You knew it the moment Bob had knocked on your door and you let him inside. There was no more running.

“Because I can’t be around you,” you started, voice trembling as the truth slipped out. “You make me nervous, and I can’t control myself around you. All I want to do is tell you how much happiness you bring into my days. And I think you’re so damn cute, like you literally make me feel butterflies, and that’s something I haven’t felt since… Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced something like this before.”

Bob’s eyes widened in disbelief, breath catching as your words flowed out, raw and honest, leaving him dumbfounded. He stared at you, processing, overwhelmed by your confession.

You averted your gaze, ashamed of how exposed you felt. “I’m sorry,” you admitted softly. “I don’t know how to handle these feelings, how much I care for you. I–I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. This is why I stayed away.”

“You–you like me?” He questioned, voice tentative, in astonishment. He was still trying to process what he had just heard. “Me?”

“‘Like’ isn’t even close to describing how I feel. I’m in love with you.”

You cringed as you pushed off from the bed, stepping away from him, overwhelmed by embarrassment.

This wasn’t how you were supposed to confess. You’ve ruined everything.

Fuck the lab. Fuck those scientists. Fuck the fucking truth serum.

As the weight of your words settled in, you wondered if anything could be salvaged from this moment or if the damage had already been done.

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, he reached out, his hand trembling slightly as it brushed across your arm, making you spin around to face him. His eyes searched yours, shimmering with awe, tenderness, and…hope?

“Y–You mean that?” He whispered, his voice hoarse as if afraid to believe this was actually happening.

“I cannot lie, Bob. Remember? Only the truth is being spoken here.” 

He hesitated briefly before cautiously reaching out, his hand trembling slightly as he cradled your face in his palm. His thumb brushed softly against your cheek, and without thinking, you leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand, and allowing yourself to fall into the moment.

“I didn’t think you’d ever feel that way about me.” His voice was tremulous, yet sincere. “When you’re around, everything else just… fades away. You make everything better.” He drew back just enough to stare into your eyes, his mesmerizing blue gaze seeking yours. “I–I love you, too, Y/N.”

“Really?” You were almost afraid to believe it, yet your heart skipped a beat and you could feel your stomach doing somersaults. “You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings, you know.”

“I’m not lying. I promise.”

You reached out, instinctively brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, and for a moment, everything felt perfect—as if the world had stopped just for you two.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he hesitated.

You shook your head gently, “You’re not taking advantage of me. I want this. I have never wanted anything more.”

His cheeks flushed a delicate pink, but he nodded and leaned in carefully. The space between you narrowed until your lips finally met in a tentative kiss. His lips were soft against yours, just as you’d imagined. One hand clasped your cheek, his fingertips tracing the delicate curve of your jawline. The other rested on your waist, anchoring him as the kiss deepened. 

His fingers curled slightly, grasping your side with gentle firmness. You laced your fingers through his brunette locks, pulling him closer, while your other hand rested on his chest above his heart, feeling the quick throbbing beneath your palm.

As your lips parted for air, still dazed from the moment, Bob rested his forehead against yours, breathing heavily, eyes still closed, savoring the moment. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he admitted softly.

Your pulse was thumping hard in your chest, not just from the kiss, but also from the exhilarating realization that this moment was merely the beginning of something new. “Me too,” you whispered.

As you both lingered in the moment, wrapped in each other’s embrace, you let out a light laugh, breaking the silence. “Well, I guess the truth serum was good for something after all,”

“I suppose so.” Bob’s lips twisted into a small, bashful smile, and he giggled softly with you.

“Come on.” You took his hand and tugged him toward your bed. “You look exhausted. Let’s get you into bed so you can finally rest properly.”

Bob snuggled beneath the covers, and you slid in beside him, pulling the blankets over both of you. 

Resting your head on his chest, you felt a sense of calm rush over you. Bob wrapped his arm around you, holding you close. You curled up closer, soaking in the warmth radiating from his body and the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. His eyelids fluttered shut as he relaxed, and a contented sigh escaped his lips.

[trainer-from-unova]

lab rats

Ⓢ english ao3 Ⓢ spanish ao3 Ⓢ masterlist Ⓢ

ship: bob reynolds x afab!reader

summary: you and bob are imprisoned until you two have sex with each other. yup that's it.

a/n: first time writing about sex pollen and fuck or die vibes, also english isn't my first language and I wrote this before watching the movie

cw: au, pre-canon, human experimentation, lab sex, consensual sex, oral sex, piv sex, semi-public sex, sex pollen, drugged sex, noncon drug use, implied drug addiction

word count: 2559

When she entered the cold, empty, white room padded all over, pushed by the security staff the only thing she was wearing was a plaster on the part of her arm where a doctor had pricked her minutes before and handcuffs on her wrists in front of her. Luckily the position of her arms meant that she was able to cover her most intimate parts. She didn't understand why she had been handcuffed, undressed and taken there, but she wasn't the only one — there was also Bob, also pricked in the arm, naked and sitting with his back against the soft wall. He stood up as she turned to look at the people who had taken her there, but they closed the door before she could say or do anything, and she turned again, looking worriedly at her partner.

"What are we doing here?" She asked, unable to stop her eyes from scanning him up and down, reaching for her partner's crotch for a second as he slowly approached her, though keeping his distance so as not to make her uncomfortable. She didn't feel embarrassed, it was natural thing to do that if you have a naked man in front of you, and he couldn't help but do the same with her breasts either, which she understood and didn't mind. None of the pyjamas they usually wore did justice to them, but at the moment she was more focused on why they were locked in there.

"I don't know," he replied. More than confused or nervous, he looked defeated — tired of being an abused lab rat, locked in there.

"How long have you been here?" She asked glancing around the place: there were cameras in every corner of the ceiling and something resembling a fire extinguisher, and of course the lights.

What they didn't know was that it was expelling sex pollen to provoke them into having sex, so that she would become pregnant. They wanted to try their luck and see what would come out of mixing their blood — hopefully someone as powerful or even more powerful than their parents.

"Two minutes or so," he replied catching his partner's attention, making her look at him again. "Why are you handcuffed?" He looked down, staring at the handcuffs at her crotch.

"I don't know," she answered lowering her gaze to take a quick look at them.

Her nipples became hard, she assumed it was because it was cold — not just because she was naked, but because it was cold in there. She wanted to hug herself, not to cover her breasts but to keep herself warm, but because of the handcuffs it was impossible. The other one did under the envious gaze of his companion, and he couldn't help but feel bad about it. An idea crossed the man's mind, and he dared to offer it aloud for he meant no harm, and he believed she knew him well enough to know he meant no harm.

"Um... Do you want me to...?" he asked opening his arms, assuming correctly that she would understand what he intended.

She looked at him doubtfully for a second, but she knew it was the best, if not the only option to warm up, so she swallowed and accepted the proposal, nodding her head in silence and moving closer to him. She raised her arms, folding them and putting her hands around her own neck, on her shoulders. When she reached him she stood shyly, resting her forehead on his right shoulder, and he leaned over her, wrapping his arms shyly around her.

They both closed their eyes and sighed deeply. It felt good, not only to share their body heat but also because it had been so long since they had last hugged and been hugged. She wished she was untied so she could return the gesture by wrapping her arms around him as well, and honestly so did he, but he understood her situation.

For some reason unknown to her, her insides ached — it was as if they were crying out to be filled, and that was the only way for the pain to pass. And for better or worse, something similar happened to Bob — the physical contact made his body too excited, and probably not helped by the sex pollen or the energetic drugs he had been injected with minutes before being locked in there. She noticed this, opening her eyes and looking down as she took a step back to look at the erect member pointing at her. He did the same, distressed and blushing.

"I'm sorry," he apologised nervously in case he had made her uncomfortable, "I don't know why, I can't help it. I'm really sorry," he said looking down in embarrassment.

"It's alright, I understand," she laughed softly, "I mean, I feel the same..." she whispered biting her lip, looking him up and down. When he looked up, confused and surprised by the information his partner had confessed, he was even more surprised to see the way she was looking at him. Now she was the one who was sorry, and her cheeks blushed as well. "I'm sorry," she said embarrassed, holding her hands to the top of her head as she turned and took a few steps around the room, "I don't know what's wrong with me," she said as he looked down at her buttocks. He was embarrassed again, he didn't know what was wrong with him — he wasn't normally like that and at that moment he looked like an animal in heat.

"Aw, how cute," suddenly said a sarcastic female voice, already quite familiar to both of them locked in there. She wasn't there, it was coming from the ceiling, probably from what looked like the fire extinguisher or the cameras. "You make a good pair."

"You!" she said angrily, looking up at the cameras on the ceiling as she lowered her hands. "What are we doing here?"

"We need to study all your side effects and how they affect every aspect of your body," said Valentina, and she wasn't partly lying — she was just omitting information, "so get comfortable and do what you want to do, you won't come out until you do it. Several times," she quickly added. It was part of the plan, and if she didn't get pregnant that day they would try another time until she did.

She looked down, her eyes wide as she took in the information she had just received. He was the same, only looking at her. When she turned around their eyes connected, but they quickly averted them out of embarrassment; not that they didn't want to do it, but they didn't want to be watched or recorded, and above all they didn't want to be forced or make the other feel awkward and uncomfortable.

"...What do we do?" he asked daring to look at her again.

"I suppose we have to do what we are asked to do," she said doing the same, confused and shrugging her shoulders.

"Do you want to?" he asked, now even more confused than she was.

"Do we have a choice?" She asked, now she was the defeated one. "Not the best conditions, clearly, but... Anyway, I think we're both in the mood," she said raising her arms to point to her erection, "so..." she said as she shrugged her shoulders again, slowly moving closer to him. "Good thing you're already erect, because I can't do much with my hands," she said putting her arms around her torso, reminding him that she was handcuffed and deciding to take the situation with humour, which was her best defence mechanism. "I guess they put them on me in case I resisted..." she whispered, rather to herself.

"God," he said, horrified at the idea. "This is ridiculous."

"Yeah, well..." she sighed deeply, looking down at the floor. "Shall we begin?" She looked up into his face, then looked down at the member pointing at her. "The sooner the better, the sooner we get out of here."

"Um... It's been a long time since..." he said embarrassed as he watched her move closer to him, getting dangerously close.

"Don't worry, neither have I," she said averting her gaze to his lips, correctly assuming that the best way to break the ice between them was with a kiss.

Aware of where she was looking and what was likely to happen in a few seconds he hesitantly placed his hands on her waist, noticing how she stood on her tiptoes to move closer to him. He looked down at her lips as well, and slowly and shyly moved closer to them until they merged.

The kiss began as such; slowly and shyly, but as they did, it quickly grew hotter. Unconsciously she moaned and brought her hands to his shoulders, almost to his neck because of the handcuffs while he brought one of his hands to one of her cheeks, and with the other he pulled her closer to him. Before they parted for lack of air, she bit his lower lip.

"The pyjamas don't do you justice," she said as she slid her hands down his muscular chest, smiling playfully as she watched him.

"What did you expect?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

"You said you were a drug addict so I assumed you were anorexic," she said as she bent down and drove one knee into the soft ground, "but I see you're in shape," she said driving the other, now with both knees driven into the ground and giving him a quick glance at his member before looking up and back at him with a playful grin. He did the same and lay back on the floor as she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue.

With each passing second the drugs and pollen were having more effect, and they no longer cared about being watched or anything else, they just wanted to satisfy themselves once and for all, following their most primal instincts. Probably later, when the effects wore off, they would regret it and feel more ashamed.

With the tip of her tongue she brushed from the lowest to the highest, sending a shiver down the young man's spine. When she reached the tip she sucked it like a lollipop, causing the young man to stifle a moan at such pleasure and bring his hands to his partner's head, grabbing her hair and pulling her head down wanting to feel more. At times she couldn't help but moan, and she noticed her own crotch getting even wetter, albeit in a different, more natural method than the one she was using.

When she got tired, which was often due to lack of practice, she would separate and he would massage it with his hand. Before reinserting it she dropped saliva which she collected in hee mouth to moisten it, to make her lips slide better. He clenched tighter as his breathing hitched. Out of curiosity while listening to him she looked up to see what state he was in, and saw that he was with his head up, staring at her.

"Oh, so you like to stare," she said with her mouth free, swallowing saliva and trying to wipe the corners of her lips with her hands as he leaned his head back against the floor. Tired of using her mouth so much and wanting to feel more, wanting to feel him again from the inside but in another part of her body, she lifted herself up and climbed over him, sitting on his crotch — literally on his cock, but not inserting it.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, blushing as she rested her hands on his belly and began to rub herself against him, eliciting sighs from both of them. "Can I touch your tits...?"

"You don't even have to ask," she replied laughing at how shy and afraid he was at the thought of making her uncomfortable. She had to admit she found him adorable, and very attractive too.

He brought his hands to her breasts and massaged them until she lifted her hips a little, and assuming correctly what she intended to do but was prevented from doing by the handcuffs, he helped her by grabbing his member so they could merge once and for all as they most desired.

She brushed her entrance with his tip wet with his pre-seminal fluid and her own saliva, and she bucked her hips carefully to press the tip against her entrance, slowly entering. It felt so good, neither could help but moan in pleasure. As she settled in and became accustomed to his presence fully inside her she brought her hands back to his belly and began to ride him, feeling his hands on her hips, very close to her buttocks. He closed his eyes and then she slid down on top of him, bringing their torsos together again and resting her hands under his neck. She was so wet that sometimes they couldn't help but separate by accident, but when they came together again they merged with need.

To her surprise, he wrapped his arms around her back and rolled her over, changing positions — now she was lying down and he was on top. She wasn't doing badly, but he could go much faster and be more effective in that position. He put his arms at her sides and she wrapped her legs around his back. His hips crashed against hers quickly and hard, making her moan more as they heard his hips crash against her buttocks, and most of all, the wetness inside her.

He had his head to one side, and he listened to her moans and gasps in his ear as he tried not to cum inside her, but it was very difficult; it felt too good to feel how hot and wet she was, and bringing him even closer to his own orgasm. She was the same way, beginning to feel a warmth inside her belly and down to her crotch while moaning loudly and endlessly as she spasmed, uncontrolled movements that caused her to pull her legs away from his back and arch her back and fingers. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, causing him to quickly spurt out of her and cum on her belly. Then, as he sighed, he lay exhausted beside her as they caught their breath and remembered they were being watched by the cameras on every corner.

"Sorry... for cumming in you," he said with bated breath and embarrassed, looking up at the ceiling.

"Don't worry, better out than in," she replied laughing tiredly, her breath also hitching and embarrassed, staring at the ceiling.

"Did you like it?" he asked turning his neck to his right to look at her.

"Of course," she said turning her neck to her left, still smiling, "isn't it obvious?" He blushed and looked away quickly.

"Me too," he whispered, and she thought that if she hadn't been handcuffed she would have held his hand.

"Um... Can I... cuddle with you...?" she asked, now shy.

"Oh of course, sure!" he hastened to confirm while turning on his side, wanting to make her feel good with the aftercare and warm her up again.

"Thank you," she whispered, leaning closer to him.

© trainer-from-unova / alicent burton | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[malsmind]

ALL MINE

matt sturniolo x reader

"you told me your new man don't make you nut, that's a damn shame."

summary: your new boyfriend's an asshole so matt wants to show you how much better you could do.

warnings: cheating! (oops) smut, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, matt being a little cocky, worshipping (kinda?), creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart)

author's note: dont cheat!

wc: 1.6k

english is not my first language!

you and your boyfriend started dating a few months ago. a mutual friend introduced you and you both got along really well. to be honest, it felt very rushed. you liked him, of course, and you loved the time you two spent together, but after about two months of dating, he had already started to show how bad a of a boyfriend he really was. he would constantly flirt with other people and play it off as 'just being nice'. after you'd talked to him about it, told him how uncomfortable it made you, things went well for a few weeks before it started up again. that was not the only thing though. he was manipulative, made you believe that his overreacting, yelling and verbal abuse were perfectly valid.

rightfully, you were disappointed. he seemed like an amazing person before and when you started dating, so it really hurt and made you pissed about the fact that you opened yourself up to a relationship only to be disappointed by a guy who is just out for any and every female validation he could get.

right now, you were supposed to be out on a date with him. but you were at matt's because your boyfriend cancelled on you last minute, no explanation, but you had a suspicion, and it was confirmed after one of your friends saw your boyfriend with a girl, not just any girl, the girl you asked for your boyfriend to tell her off because she was always flirting with him, fully aware of you being his girlfriend.

you wern't sad, just angry with yourself for not seeing the signs earlier on, for not listening to the warning bells ringing in your head. "you there?" matt waved a hand infront of your face, pulling you out of your train of thoughts. "yeah, sorry."

matt sighs, trying to read your thoughts by your expression. you were unusually quiet, which given the situation you were in was fair enough. "i'm not tryna be a dick, but i did tell you he seems like an asshole..." matt shrugged, a poor attempt of 'comforting' you. he wasn't wrong, and he was not the only one with a strong opinion on your boyfriend either. you sighed, leaning back against the couch. "i just don't know why i didn't break things off when i saw how he acts with some shit." you scoffed, running your hand over your face.

matt leaned back against the couch with you, his head turned to the side so he was looking at you. "not your fault, you liked him"

you sighed, turning your head to the side to meet matt's eyes, "such a waste of time, dude.."

the room went quiet and you turned your head to look up at the ceiling, thoughts circling again. your boyfriend really was an asshole, but you tried to convince others and yourself otherwise. but deep down you knew. your last straw should've been when he let go of your hips, turning his full attention to his phone and some girls messages on it while you were on top of him with his dick inside you. he tried to tell you it was an emergency, that whoever it was that texted him was going trough some rough times, telling you to stop being so dramatic and not make a big deal out of it.

matt knew about this whole thing, and you could've sworn that when you told him about it, he was even more pissed off at your boyfriend than you were. matt's voice was just a small mumble that seemed far away from wherever you were at right now, lost in your thoughts but again, it managed to pull you out of it. "don't understand how one can even do that when their girl's on top of them" he scoffed, shaking his head, still in disbelief to what happened. his words registered in your head and your eyes widened slightly when you realized what he was talking about. you turned you head to look at him again, his eyes meeting yours.

in that moment, you didn't know what had gotten into you, because matt leaned closer, his eyes searching yours for any sings that you might pull away and ask him what the fuck he was doing, but you didn't. matt's lips landed on yours, pressing a soft kiss to them, testing the waters. you kissed him back, and matt saw his opportunity. his hand was quick to find your hip, pushing you down gently until your body laid flat on his couch, his own hovering over it.

you melted into his touch, your legs subconsciously wrapping around his waist as his lips traveled down from your lips, to your jaw until they were on your neck, sucking marks into the skin. it wasn't hard to tell where this was going, his already hard dick pressing down onto your own clothed arousal. with the way his lips worked on your neck made you grow needy, your hands developing their own mind as your fingers toyed with the waistband of his sweats.

you could feel a smirk tugging on his lips, reminding you of how wrong this was since you were still in a relationship with someone, even though you were defiently going to break that up anyway. one of matt's hands left your hip, helping you tug down his pants, his boxers coming off with them. his dick grazed your hand and you grabbed it, giving it a few stokes, earing a moan against your neck from matt. your hand on his dick turned things around, making him needy now.

his lips left your neck as he leaned back up slightly, his fingers hooking in the waistband of your pants. he looked up at you, searching your eyes. seeing the desire and need for him in them made him forget about how shitty this made him and you look. "you okay with this?" he asked, his voice low. you know you shouldn't. you know cheating was a disgusting thing and you'd never want to do that to someone, but you didn't care. your boyfriend is an asshole and it was only a matter of time before he would do the same, that's if he didn't do it already.

"yes." you breathed out, your eyes watching his hands intently as he pulled down your pants and underwear, throwing them aside and placing himself back between your spread legs. he cursed under his breath, his teeth sinking into his lower lip at the sight of your wetness. he took his dick into his hand, rubbing his tip up and down your folds, coating himself in your juices. matt's eyes snapped up to yours when he pushed his hips forwad, slowly sinking into your wet hole. your lips parted, your own eyes never leaving his.

his hands found your hips when he bottomed out, squeezing them to ground himself at the feeling of your walls squeezing him so tightly. he buried his face in your neck, placing soft kisses to it as he started to thrust in and out of you at a steady pace. your legs tightened around matt's waist, small, breathy moans escaping your lips when his hips picked up their pace. "you're so hot, baby. fuckin' love your body." matt moaned into your neck, his hips snapping into yours. his hands are all over you. "all mine..." he mumbled, squeezing your tits lightly, exploring every single inch of your body with his fingertips before holding onto your hips again, like he was trying to hold on to the moment.

"you deserve so much better... fuck.." he murmured, his lips starting to pplace kisses all over your neck again, fucking into you harder, faster, making you feel good, making it his only purpose. "so fuckin' beautiful. feel so good, sweetheart". matt's words and actions made you feel things you've never felt with anyone else. you felt amazing, about yourself, about the moment, everything felt so good when thos words left his lips, the feeling of your orgasm approaching taking over your body.

matt smirked, very aware of what he made you feel. his lips kissed up your neck until they landed on your lips again, swallowing your moans. "i want you to look at me when you cum on my cock, can you do that f'me? hm?" he whispered against your lips. you could only moan in response, his dick moving in and out of you, one hand coming down between your bodies to rub your clit. matt moved his head to look down at your face and you opened your eyes, staring right back into his. his dick moved in and out of you, one of his hands let go of your hip to reach between your bodies, rubbing your clit, driving you over the edge.

your walls tightening around him along with the loud moans leaving your lips, all together with the intense eye contact you were struggling to hold made it difficult for him to hold back his own orgasm. "where do you want me?" he breathed out between gasps, slowing his hips down the slightest so he wouldn't nut right then and there. "inside.. fuck.." you managed to moan out, and he didn't need to be told twice.

his hips snapped into yours, making your moans grow louder again due to the oversensetivity you were still feeling from your orgasm. he gave you a few hard and deep thrusts before his head dropped down, burying his face in your neck again as his cum filled you up, low, almost whiny moans leaving his lips, vibrating against the sensetive skin of your neck...

no matter what happened tonight, no matter how bad you should feel, you never felt better.

© 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws !!

this has been approved by the wife too 😌 @rcklessheavn

@middlepartmatt @emely9274 @impossiblecollectorcat @staargazr @sllutty-sturniolo @shadowthesim237 @sturns-mermaid @courta13 @grace-sturnz @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @ncm9696 @sophand4n4 @amyiasturnl @ivysturnss @matts-247 @sammi-leighdestiny

[n0t-y0ur-piece-0f-cake]

The study of human social behaviour

Summary: you get kidnapped by Yautja, as well as some other people. You try to escape but in a twisted turn of events, you end up being an aliens mate for life.

Fem reader x male yautja

Warnings: NSFW, kidnapping, non-con/rape, violence, death, swearing, mention of forced pregnancy

MDNI / MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

For everyone else: read at own risk

Not proof read, English is not my first language

---------- <3 ----------

"I remembered how I was sitting at my dining table, eating.

Just minding my business and trying to calm down from my stressful day at work. But everything changed with a sudden white light illuminating my surroundings completely." I said, looking into everyone's faces. We sat in a circle. On the cold white ground. What seemed to be LED lights shone so bright, it hurt my eyes at the beginning. Now my eyes didn't mind anymore. The walls were empty and cold.

I turned to look behind me. Looked at the big glass where these aliens are probably observing us. "And that's how I ended up here, in this room. That's all I know." My glance shifted right back at the group. We were three women and three men. Some acknowledged my story by nodding, others by just looking at me wide eyed. I was last to tell. Their stories weren't any diffrent. All of them experienced that white illuminating light. And then they were waking up in here.

I have no idea how long we've already been here. But probably not even a day. Neither do I have any idea what these aliens want from us. Or if they would be happy to tell us, if they even know our tongue.

For now we just sat around. Trying to wrap our mind around what we should do. What THEY would do. One guy threw in a idiotic plan on how he would try to escape, which was quickly shut down and discouraged by us. Why? Because we already saw these aliens. We saw how they were built and could easily lift a out of hand human, to throw them out. The guy they threw out was here again, but he was now quiet. I don't know what they did to him. He doesn't tell either.

After a while our conversations got more quiet, less frequent. I personally was frustrated there was nothing to pass time here. Frustrated I still don't know what the fuck they want. I was laying on the ground for a while now. Others laying too, or sitting against the wall. Suddenly the lights dimmed. I jump up and look around. See if I can spot any differences. Nothing. After a few seconds a big plate from underneath the viewing window was brought into the room. On it were various kind of fruits and vegetables from earth. We all looked at each other. Confused. Should we eat it? Is it poisoned? A woman took the first step. "I'm hungry!", she exclaimed. She took a Mango and bit right in it, peeling the skin then, when she punctured the Mango.

Everyone else followed. I did so too, grabbing an apple, inspecting it. I stood close to the viewing window. Out of curiosity I pressed my forehead against it, I could see the shape of these aliens. They stared at me. Noting something in their, what seemed to be, computers. I sat down on the ground. Just like everyone else. We were now gathered around the plate containing food.

After what seemed to be another hour, the light turned even more dim. Enough to see, but significantly more darker. "I have to use the toilet. Real bad", one of the guys said. "Use the corner?" The other guy said. One girl got mad and made a gagging sound "Are you crazy?" "Well where else is he supposed to go? There's nothing here!"

I look up at the window, and point at it. "Maybe we can ask them?" "Oh sure. Please mister or misses alien, give us a toilet." The guy who had to pee said mockingly. The girl that was still quiet since the beginning sighed and said we should give it a try. She stood up. She looked at all of us, unsure if she should really do it. I nodded. The pee guy nodded too. "Toilet! We need a toilet!" She screamed at the window. Nothing happened. I look through the window again making sure someone is even on the other side. Which yes they are. I look at the girl. "Do it again", I said. She screamed again. This time I joined in and banged my fist against the window. The guy who had to pee chuckled and mocked us again.

Suddenly the big plate was taken back. The sound of a motor made us all go quiet. We looked at where the sound came from. We all starred in awe as a new small room in a corner was build. The new walls including a door came out of the big walls. The motor kept whirring until it seemed to lock in. The guy who had to pee stood up and bolted for that room. As he opened the door he screamed out in ecstasy. "It's an actual fucking bathroom!" He slammed the door, locking it and doing his thing. We could hear muffled yelling. "It has a shower and everything, holy shit!"

The girl who was screaming at the window to get a toilet sat down again. We were all still in our spot. And the rest of the room was still empty. We were all in that corner as if the rest of the room is bad. The guy came back from his bathroom break. Sat down with us as well. I didn't know anyone. Not even their names. Would it be awkward to ask now? Whatever. I'll do it. "I'm Y/N."

They looked up at me. Silence.

"I'm Dave", said the pee guy. "Rachel." The girl that screamed but was always silent.

"Maria", she smiled as she said her name. The girl that was disgusted by the 'pee in the corner suggestion'. "Alexander. But Alex is cool too" said the guy who had lost his temper at the start and was taken by these aliens to god knows where but brought back.

The guy who suggested Dave to pee in the corner sighed. "Nick."

"Is that short for anything?" Maria asked. "Nicklas." Silence again. So now we know each others names. I was tired. I layed down. Some others followed soon after. Motor whirring came up again. We jumped up to look. Out of the wall came beds. For everyone one. They were lined up next to each other on one wall, next to the bathroom. We looked at each other again. We slowly stood up and went over. A fight soon came to ensue. No one wanted to sleep right next to the window. "One of the men have to go on that bed!" Rachel stood her ground. "Nuh uh", said Nick, "I won't let them grab me first!"

"There's not even a door there! To be frank the door is over there!", Dave pointed at the other wall, the door was disguised. The wall plate was over it, covering the door. We all know. Because Alex was taken through it. "Nick, they're always gonna be watching us, everyone of us. It doesn't matter." I said. Nick turned to me. "Then go ahead and sleep on this bed. It's all yours."

I rolled my eyes. I looked at it. At all of them. None of them had blankets. Only pillows and a matress. I nodded. "Fine." Since this discussing was over we all just laid down. Alex still sat on the foot end of his bed. Starring at the opposite wall and where the door is. I was too tired to hold more conversation today. And I don't want to push him. So I just fell asleep.

The next day was more of the same. Our day was started by being woken up by motor whirring sound. Another plate with the same food being brought in. But instead of grabbing something everyone groaned and made a run for the bathroom. Some were faster some slower. I stood up slowly. I didn't have to pee that badly. I passed Alex bed. He was still laying in it. Eyes closed. Snoring. He's a deep sleeper. The line became smaller and smaller. And at last we were all gathered around the table and eating. Except for Alex.

"What did he see?" Maria asked. Everyone shrugged their shoulders. Silence. Maybe no one wanted to keep talking about it because maybe these aliens will get mad. Understandable. We left some food for Alex on the plate. As we stood up and went back to our respective beds to sit down on soft ground the motor starter whirring again. The plate with Alex's food was taken back. Since I was closest to the window and the plate I jumped up and grabbed the left overs before it was fully gone.

I placed it at the foot end of my bed. Waiting on my bed for anything to happen. Dave stood up and banged his fist at the window. "We're bored!" Maria rolled her eyes. There was no reaction even after a while. "Ask for something specific." Rachel said. I nod. "Oh! Like a PC or something." We all looked at Maria's comment. "A PC? What would you want with that? I doubt they have earth Internet access or would allow us to use theirs. If they even have that." Dave said.

"Well they do have PCs so I think they might have Internet? But... yeah. Ask for something else maybe?" I said. Dave resumed banging on the window. "Give us paper and pen! Paper! Pen!" Alex was awoken by the comotion. He grunted. "Shut the fuck up!" Motor started whirring again. A table with a chair like thing appeared. Right in the middle. On it, was nothing. Dave turned to the window again. "For gods sake, Pen! Paper!" Another whirring. This time the plate where usually the food was, came with several pencils and a stack of paper.

Dave grabbed a pen and paper. "If you're up for it, let's play some paper games." Not even a minute later we all gathered on the ground playing 'Town, Country, River'.

It's been days now. Painted and written paper was scattered underneath our beds. We requested a few more things. Like music, but it was a Walkman or whatever you called them from the 80s. We tried requesting a movie, all we got was a Disc, but no TV or anything. It doesn't even say what kind of movie or other media it contains. We requested a flashlight because Maria started to freak out when the lights dimmed for the night, which they granted. We requested actual cooked meals. But all that came was questionable looking things. They tried their best but... didn't look to edible. We did taste it. Either it was bland or not cooked through. So we kept eating fruits and vegetables. Yes. We did try to request raw foods, even going as far as to write and draw the ingredients and what tools we'd need, but they didn't do anything. None of them ever came in since Alex little incident. Not until this day.

We weren't sure if they had cameras in this room or not. Or where their blindspots are. So we came up with something. Nick, who had suggested before that we should try and escape, 'invented' the human pile. We would throw ourselves on a pile, laying on the ground with our stomach, basically. So our heads would be looking down at the same spot in the middle and our heads would be so close together we'd maybe have the chance of a camera not catching what we write on a piece of paper. We'd also be stacked upon each other, and someone would have to hold Maria's flashlight so we could see what was written on the paper. Because that's how close our heads had to be. Of course these aliens must wonder and get suspicious what we'd do. So we started out with drawing really weird things like memes. Of course we'd laugh about it. We all hoped the aliens would think we were just doing some stupid human bonding stuff drawing these pictures.

And only in-between we wrote the plans and discussions for escaping. We'd black them out or overdraw them with memes. Just to make sure. Our plan so far? The strongest must pretend that he has a heart attack or something. Everyone else needs to back up against the empty wall and pretend to be scared, where the door is. So when they open it the second strongest and strongest can distract them aliens. But why try to escape? We were here since days. Pretty sure we're on a planet. Not ours but a planet. We can hear no big motor sound that made us think that we were still in space or something. Also the fruits and vegetables changed in shape, size and color that it made us think that these ones are not from earth anymore. They looked more alien yet earthly. Like they've ran out of earth veggies and fruits and now only have their similar stuff left.

Maybe we'd have a chance of surviving out there. But we won't stay here forever. We asked them on how long they plan on keeping us here. What they want. But no answer ever came. They just starred back at us through the window. We're not gonna die here.

The day of the plan finally came. We all kept acting as always. Wake up. Eat. Do something. Nick and Dave worked out, push ups, squats, whatever, trying go get more pumped up for later. Alex was still in bed, not yet getting up, but due to the circumstances fully awake. Maria, me and Rachel on the ground playing or drawing. Rachel then got up. She took some tomatoes from under her bed that she kept there from this morning and started screaming and acting weirdly. The plan has started.

Maria and I got up. Looking at her. The men turned to look at her. We all pretend to be in shock. She started throwing the tomatoes on the window. Taking the table and throwing it against the window. Dave shoved the table to the wall, where he ordered us to go and stay safe away from Rachel. Still the plan.

I felt my heart pumping hard. I am so nervous. This could go so wrong. Suddenly the plates were moved and the door was opened. An alien came in and headed towards Rachel. Dave immediately grabbed the table and smashed it down on the alien. They got into a fight, the table broke so Dave took a piece and hit it over and over again. The alien groaned. We ran towards the door. It was closed. There were buttons tho. Alex pressed the one he remembered the most from the day he was taken. It opened. Just as wanted to slip through the door closed on me and Dave. Dave got stuck between the door. It didn't do much. But the wall plates started moving to shut close. We heard the others scream from the other side. Nick and Rachel quickly taking over and running away with the other two.

The wall plates didn't stop. Dave screamed for help. I grabbed his arm and started to pull him, but his other arm was stuck in the door. He flexed it, twisted and turned it, but it was stuck. The wall finally came to a close. I screamed and looked away as a crunching noise emitted the room. I shut my eyes and held my ears with my hands that quickly let go of Dave. I looked at the ground. My back was turned to Dave. A puddle of blood came close to my shoes. I took away my hands from my ears. Listening if I could hear Dave speak or breath. Nothing. Silence.

I felt nauseous. I felt like I was about to drop dead myself. I couldn't bear looking back at him now. I dont want to see his crushed body. The alien that has been hit layed in front of me. Seemingly unconscious as he was still breathing. Defeated I sat down next to it. I couldn't even bear to sit on the bed now. I heard commotion behind me. The wall plates and door moving to open. Daves body hit the ground, before he was dragged out. When I was sure he was gone, I turned as well. Ther was no alien standing guard. So I jumped up and ran- but the unconscious alien grabbed my arm and jerked me right back down with one motion. He wasn't unconscious. He was pretending like we were. "Please let me go." I said, still trying to pull away but the alien was just too strong.

It got up. Its large frame hovering over me. It was wider than me too. His muscles seemed so large and its grip... two things that showed me that it could crush my skull easily if it wanted to. I was as well lifted up to stand. Another alien, unlike the one holding me, wore white instead of silver armor. The one now standing in the doorframe also seemed to wear more fabric. Was more covered. The one holding me seemed to wear the more basic armor or clothes. So I thought. They communicated in a tongue I couldn't understand. When they were done, the one holding me looked down to me, looking deeply into my eyes. I looked at it back. It's eyes shone yellow, against his dark, almost black and brown shades of reptile like skin.

I couldn't read its emotions. Out of no where it yanked me with it, dragging me god knows where. Are they going to put me down, out of my misery like the experiment animals that we maybe were? I was dragged out of the room, I jumped over the puddle of Daves blood. Feeling disgusted and being reminded about these sounds his body made. I'd never forget that. Hallways and hallways without end. We seemed to get into another testing facility. As it still dragged me, we passed embryos of various types of unrecognisable creatures kept in large tubes.

I didn't fully understand, couldn't grasp on it that quickly. Until we reached a empty room. It wasn't large. Maybe 10 feet in every direction. "Are you going to kill me?" I asked. The alien looked at me. It shook its head no. It could understand me. "What will you do then?" It tilted its head to the side. A deep voice, growling animalistic, started to speak. "Experiment." "Experiment?", I looked at it shocked. It could speak. But what does it mean? "What were you planning with my group?" It took a while until it could form another sentence, like as if it was trying to make sure it was using the right words. "Ooman social Experiment. But now they dead." It said in broken English.

I looked at it wide eyed. "You just wanted to observe our behaviour?" It nodded. "When ooman is entrapped, yes." "And then?"

"Let ooman free again, but oomans tried escape, now dead." My eyes widened even more. "You would have let us go??" A tear ran down my face, knowing we would have made it out alive anyways. "They're dead? I saw them run out!" "We killed." It said almost confident. I looked at it now with confusion. "So why not kill me, huh!?"

"Other experiment. I decide." I tilted my head now too. "Other experiment?" "Yes, but ooman will not get out of this." It said stepping closer to me. I took a step back, trying to create distance, it tried to grab my arms but I quickly turned and tried to get to the door. It did reach it, but I didn't know which button to press, neither did pressing all of them help. Or all of them at the same time, before it grabbed me by the waist, to slam me onto his frontal body. "No escape, ooman", it growled above my head. Not long after it placed its hands on my pants colar. I placed my hands on its arms, trying to get these arms away from there, knowing where this will go. My pants buttons were ripped right off, didn't matter how much I tried to get it away. It then pulled down all of that I wore underneath my waist. Now my bare ass and vagina were exposed to the cold air. One hand was placed right between my legs, cupping my vagina, while it's middle finger started working on my clit. It send out signals to my brain I didn't want. I yelped like a puppy. I saw how it threw a cloth to the side of us. I remember it, it was the cloth between its legs. That was seemingly worn as a type of pants.

I grabbed its arms, that was still cupping and working on my vagina, still trying to push it away, I clenched my legs together, making the feeling and every movement even more intense unwillingly. My yelps have turned into small gasps of air. I leaned back on its chest, looking up on it. "Please stop" I begged. It leaned down, so much so that I was made to bend over in the process. Its hand stopped cupping me. And the other was on my neck, its pressure on my neck and now waist made me arch my back. "Stay." It demanded. I whimpered, but I obeyed. Pleased that I stood still, I felt it part my fold with its fingers. If I wasn't sure if this alien was male before I was sure enough now.

Before I knew he placed the tip of his cock into my vagina, before grabbing my hips and slamming his length into me. A scream left my mouth. A pained one. It was something I never felt before. A girth what felt like almost 4 fingers wide and a length that hit my cervix on the first slam. And from what I could feel, he still had more, that just couldn't fit in. He leaned down back to me, so my back and his chest weren't ever to part. "Mate." He said. He started with a slow pace, i could feel more of his cocks texture. It seemed to have some kind of small knobs on it, on its shaft. My face felt hot. Almost burning. I didn't know where to place my hands, so i placed them on top of his. Almost grabbing him. "My mate." He growled even more as his breath seemed to picked up with his pace. Him hitting my cervix now harder made me squirm in pain, but at the same time it felt good. His pace got even more faster. My right hand traveled to his right side of his hip, trying to push him away, or at least to make him slow down. It was too much for me, as I let my head drop, my eyes roll back and soft moans now escaping my mouth, his pace dropped but his thrusts became more violent, as well as his grunts. Not long after he buried his cock as deep as he could, standing up straight and letting me feel his warm cum fill me, as he still held me in place with his hands on my hips.

I saw it drip down along my thighs, it was a glowing greenish substance. "My mate." It repeatedly muttered. My heart pace calmed down after a while. As well as my body seemed to as well. So he pulled out. "Ah'kun", he said, pointing to himself, before he put back on his cloth covering his dick. He left the room without a word.

I stood there trembling, unsure what to do now. How to even process what just happened or throughout the whole day to be exact. Ah'kun did come back after a while. Bringing another cloth, almost looking like fancy panties, with sumo like cloth in the front and back. He held it infrong of my feet. He wanted me to step in so he could make me wear it? I guess so. So i did. He pulled it up. It was almost a bit too tight. But it should do for now. In the same motion as he pulled up my new panties or pants, he undid my shirt and bra. Of course I tried to go against it, but he just didn't bother. He was still stronger. He disposed all of my clothes with a trashcan that came out by pressing something on an empty wall. Right after he dragged me out. I was now wearing nothing but these weird panties. "Forgot..." He said. Taking a necklace of his neck and binding it around mine. "What is that?" I asked, looking at the necklace seemingly made out of bones. "Shows everyone your mate. My mate."

I look at him. At this point, I wasn't a experiment to him anymore, wasn't I? He took my silence for an answer, that was good enough for him. As we stepped outside into the daylight, we were right. We were on a planet. A tropical one. With what almost looked like aztec pyramids. And it seemed to be normal that these aliens wore only these panties. Even the female ones. Only few wore armor. "Why don't they all have armor?" I looked at him, as he held my hand. "No hunters or warrior" he pointed at the majority that didn't wear armor. "And you?" I said, I looked back and forth at them and him. "I, elite hunter. You have luck, my mate." He started to get confident again.

"Why luck?" "Elite hunter, high status." He said even more confident. His ego definitely stroked. He dragged me down the stairs of the pyramid we were in. The lab pyramid I'm taking. As we stepped out of the shadow, it was even a smart idea of him to remove my warm clothing. Because the sun here was brutally hot.

We were walking for a bit, the other aliens looked at us, specifically me. Some talked with Ah'kun, in their native tongue of course. Giving him proud pats on the back. Was a human mate an achievement? A trophy? Who knows. I don't. We finally reached another pyramid, one of those many. "My home, you live now too, here."

He closed the door behind me. In here, the air was cool again. The decorations and furniture style felt similar to several antique human civilisations, but yet held their advanced alien touch. I looked everywhere. There was even an armor room. Where his helmets and other armor were displayed. A trophy room with several heads of all kinds of creatures.

I kept looking. I found everything you'd expect from an house. Bathroom, bedroom, kitchen, living room. And empty or barely filled rooms. "What's all the empty rooms for?" "Storage. And little ones." I tilted my head. "Little ones?" He nodded. Did he mean kids? Was I even able to give that to him? What was I thinking. When did I start to be okay with this? This isn't my planet. In that moment it dawned on me. Was this my life now? I started crying. Not just because of the fact that I was here, but because of all of this.

Ah'kun patted me caringly on the back. "You will be good mom, no worry."

[alexiabae]

ALEXIA'S EX GIRLFRIEND | jana fernàndez x fem!reader

Summary: in which jana is in a relationship with her teammate's ex-girlfriend.

Warnings: fluff, secret relationship, gap age (not too much), jealousy.

Note: it's funny how in my head I had an idea and when I wrote it came out differently, still I hope you like it.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

"S-Stop..." Your breath out, hands gripping her shoulders and trying to push her away, even if that is the last thing you wanted.

You can feel her smile on your skin, biting softly the spot on your neck to move her head from there and look at you, smirk spreading at your sight.

"We are alone." Jana murmurs, nose brushing your cheek while her hands remain on your waist.

"We are in a public area where anyone can go inside." You remind her gently, stroking her arm. Your back is on the changing room's wall because she trapped you there a few minutes ago.

Jana rolls her eyes, leaning her forehead on yours. "They are gone, probably they don't notice us that we aren't with them." She says, her lips brush your mouth with every word.

You push her softly behind, seeing how her face changed but give in, letting out a sigh.

You two are in camp, the second day of being there and Jana couldn't control her hands out of you and you can't blame her, since you are in different teams and the time together is scarce.

Giving her one last look, you go to take a quick shower. Jana follows you and goes to the next where you are. The silence envelopes the huge place and it's only interrupted by the water, coming back when you two go out. You assume she is a little pissed by the situation, not muttering a word out since you broke the moment.

Still, she awaits you when she finishes before you. Eyes glued to her phone, only looking at you when you sit on her lap.

"Don't be mad at me." You said with a small pout, hands trailing behind her neck, her wet hair meeting your skin. "Wanted me to dry it? We are in November and the sun has gone from a long time ago." You don't wait for her answer, just going to your bag and rummaging between your things and pulling out your hairdryer.

She keeps quiet, letting you dry her hair. You know she is upset and it makes you feel a little bad. Jana puts her hands on your thighs, leaning her forehead on your stomach. The brunette stays like that until you finish drying her hair, her head rising up but her chin remaining on your stomach, brown eyes looking at you.

"I know." You whisper, knowing the meaning of her gaze. You lowered your head and met her lips half way, pecking them. "Just give me a little more time to think about what I'm going to say to her."

Her, means Alexia.

Jana nods against your belly, standing up and hugging you.

•••

Tiredly, you lean down on the bed when you go in Irene's bedroom, the veteran player deciding to have the bond night there. Patri squeezed your thigh, making you squirm and leave an involuntary laugh. A mistake you made because soon Patri is on you making tickling your sides, laugh fell from your mouth while your eyes start to be teary, you try to push her away, but you fail.

Patri stopped once she thought it was enough, a smirk on her face watching you recuperate your breath. You punch her shoulder, wiping your eyes and feeling how someone pushes you towards the middle.

"Miss me?" Leila winks at you, throwing herself on top of you and hugging you.

You snort. "I see you more now than when we were on the same team." You comment, hearing how Leila chuckles because she agrees with you.

The defender put herself in a better position, starting a teasing battle with Patri against you. Your attention drifted away from them when you saw Jana walk in with Ona and María, the brunette searching for something until her gaze fell on you, the corner of her lips twitch up and start to walk towards you.

"Do you mind if I put myself here?" She asks, gifting you one of her famous and irresistible smiles.

"I guess... If you don't join them on teasing me." You say, pointing with a hand to the players.

"Deal." Jana agrees when she looks at the fake innocent faces of her friends, putting herself between your legs and leaning her back on your front.

Soon Irene quietened the room indicating she was going to put on the movie, turning off the lights. There are a few complaints about the movie, some of them didn't want to watch a horror movie but Patri —who chose it— gives an argument that it's not that scary, gente.

You feel cozy, surrounded by your teammates providing you warm. Aitana passes you four a blanket, Jana puts it to cover with Leila's help. You were playing with Jana's hair while you were trying to keep your eyes open, mindlessly you lean your head on Patri's shoulder to have a better angle to the TV, but you feel more comfortable and slowly your eyes are closing.

A soft tap on your leg brightens up, focusing your attention around, you take some seconds to react and start to move your hand on Jana's hair again. However your eyes start to close again, your head swaying and sometimes making you open your eyes, you can hear a snort coming from Leila and your elbow on her side, she gives a dramatic face in response.

You stopped moving your hands instead, you left them on her head's side and relaxed your legs, giving up on the movie. You feel how the soft material of the blanket covers one of your hands and soon Jana's warm hand intertwines with yours, making you smile with your eyes closed for that simple gesture.

Your heart is beating fastly against your chest when you open your eyes again, startled. You lift part of your body up, looking around.

Someone screamed like her life depends on it.

The movie is paused when the room starts to laugh hard and makes fun of Salma's scream. Then, Patri looks at you and her laugh intensifies, pointing your face with a finger. You frown, trying to hold your laugh when you realise how you look from outside and keep watching her, a few of them joined Patri.

Rolling your eyes, you muttered at them to grow up, your gaze meeting Jana's when you lay down again, seeing a soft smirk on her lips looking at you while her thumb is stroking your hand, thankfully still covered by the blanket.

Irene presses the play button again after they promised her to be adults. With the little nap you took, you watch the movie until the end, some jumps or small squeals were heard but nothing serious to stop the film again.

Alexia throws at you a cushion when they all stand up, giving you a teasing smirk. You are half way up when it hits you, the blonde not afraid if you make a counter attack stand next to you.

"Very adult." You say, putting on your shoes. You smirk now when she rolled her eyes and put her hands on her pockets.

"At least you notice me." She muttered, raising an eyebrow at you.

You snort. "Aww, are you jealous?" You fake a pout, throwing your arms on her neck and tiptoes a little because she is some centimetres taller than you, squeezing her cheeks with a hand.

She pushes you away from her easily, muttering an idiota under her breath. You smile and turn to the door, noticing that Jana is there with Aitana. Your smile washes out slowly, noticing the way Jana is looking at you two.

You cleared your throat, acting like nothing happened and landed an arm around your roomie, walking tiredly towards your assigned bedroom.

•••

"What are you doing here?" You hissed in a whisper when you woke up.

The other person makes room on your bed, an arm wrapping on your waist and pressing herself towards you, muttering that she is cold.

"She is sleeping, don't worry." Jana whispered when you asked again, sneaking a leg between yours and hugging you more, letting out a content sigh when she started to feel warm.

You hold your breath, trying to hear if Aitana woke up for Jana's intrusion in your room. But she seems like she is still sleeping, for your luck.

"You need to go before she wakes up." You instructed, allowing yourself to enjoy this rare moment with your girlfriend.

Jana hummed, finding your mouth and pecking your lips until they become a little heated make out session. With her hands under your pajama shirt, you whisper a soft stop, trying to see her face through the darkness. She just bites your lower lip in response, releasing it to press a chaste kiss on your lips and whispering a good night.

The next morning when you woke up, Aitana was getting ready and alerted to half raised your body to look at your bed, relief washing your face when there is not Jana, even if you wanted she is there the moment you wake up.

Aitana raised an eyebrow, seeing your weird reaction. You shrugged and muttered that you thought you got asleep while you stood up, walking to the bathroom.

Later that day, when a few of you are in the play room, you are in your phone scrolling Instagram and checking your friends' adventures. Then, Patri elbow you and when you raise your head to look at her, the midfielder is giving you a sly smirk.

"Why are you smiling like that?" She asks with a fake innocent tone, keeping smirking.

You roll your eyes, snorting and coming back to look at your phone. "No one, idiota." You muttered, showing her pictures of your best friend that it's on your screen right now.

"Yeah, sure. Now you have that excuse, but I was watching you for a while and you have a smile stuck on your face." Patri keeps pressing, an arm going to lay to the couch's back.

"Are you watching me? Need I to worry?" You tease her, seeing how she rolls her eyes and some of them laugh.

At that moment Alexia and a few more enter.

Patri smack your arm friendly, but her smirk didn't remove. "I just saying... Are you watching someone?" She asks like nothing, making you chuckle.

"Why are you asking me that?"

"You answering me with another question..." Patri hummed, eyes drifting to another place. "What? Nobody dares to date Alexia's ex? I can give a try if you leave me." She raised her voice enough for the mentioned to hear her, winking at you when she finished talking.

Some say 'uhhh' when they hear Patri, your eyes look at Alexia who is blushing sending a shut up to the Balear, sitting in a chair not far away from you two.

"You are not my type." You say innocently, blinking playfully.

And like a bad joke, Jana entered the moment you said that. She frowns a little, looking in your direction while walking to your right side.

"And who your type? Blonde, hazel eyes, Catalan and captain?" She teases you, a plastic bottle flying to her the moment she said that. Patri dodge it easily, laughing by Alexia failed attempt to hit her. "Just kidding, Ale. But help me here, do you think she is seeing someone?" Patri points your face, attention fully on the other midfielder.

You roll your eyes, taking a small breath. Your eyes meet your forehead and rub it, your other holding your phone in a firm tight. You can feel Jana's eyes on you.

Alexia frown, eyes on you now. "I don't know... Are you?" She asks casually, shrugging.

You opened your mouth a little. "Are you serious Alexia?" You ask rhetorically, hearing some leave a quiet laugh, Alexia giving you a sheepish smile. "Since when you gossip like this one?" You point with your thumb on Patri's direction, the brunette hand smacking your thigh again. Realising a sigh, you decided to answer. "No, I'm not seeing anyone." Say that words out loud, hurt. But you know it would be worse if Alexia finds out this way with everyone there.

Patri leaves out a snort. "Maybe they are scared to date you." She says, making a brief pause. "They would think that your standards are higher since you dated Alexia."

Some of them snickers by this, Alexia throwing a cushion to her way and this time she hits her face. You decided to remain quiet, leaning your back and keep your focus on your phone. Now you can feel two different pairs of eyes on you, one for different reasons.

You decide to go out from there, ignoring Patri's calls and when she tells you that she is joking. You step to the recovery empty room, sitting on the floor and looking through the big windows how the night is falling. You ignore the cold spreading on your body, a small knot forming on your chest. Sometimes you wandered because some things are complicated or just maybe we complicate things.

"There you are..." A soft voice interrupted in, stepping next to you and immediately wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Feel better?"

You lean your head on her chest. "I'm sorry to say those words.".

Jana take her moment to say something, chin leaning at the top of your head. "I know." She simply says, wrapping her other arm around your body.

You raised your gaze, keeping your head on her chest. You didn't know how she still is capable to remain that kindness with you. Her brown eyes looks at you, letting yourself swim on her gaze and discover a new thing about her with every interaction. She leans her head slowly, eyes getting closed half way when you press your lips on her. You leave out a content hum when the warmth of her tongue slipped easily on your mouth, the dance is slow and whispers, slow and rhythmic. Once in your hand find her jawline, bringing her closer towards you.

It's interrupted the moment you two hear someone leaves out a surprised yelp, separating of Jana you see how Mariona and Leila are standing on the door, the defender muttering to herself that they are dead while the Balear has her mouth open, staring at you two.

"Leila stop!" You hissed, stepping towards them and grabbing her hand, pulling her towards you making her look at you.

The brunette stopped abruptly, blinking repeatedly. "We are screwed up." She says seriously.

"You don't need to worry, just keep quiet. That's all you need to do." You say calmly, grabbing both of her hands.

Leila snort, removing her hands from you. "Are you serious? I don't want to keep your secret!" She said, a scared expression approaching on her face. Her feet start to move nervously from one side to another, muttering to you two to tell it to Alexia.

At least you aren't the only one scared, both of you know how the captain would react to your relationship.

"Leila!" Jana has enough and calls her, arms crossed on her chest. The defender stopped abruptly and looked at her, her scared expression remaining. "We know what to do. We are asking for you to not say anything to her." She says softly, alternating her gaze on the other two.

"I want to keep living Jana, of course I'm not going to say anything!" Leila says in an obvious tone, making Jana roll her eyes. "Just promise me the moment she finds out, you don't mention me."

After you two promised her that, she stormed out from there. You two look at Mariona, you nervously started to bite your nail. The Balear stopped looking at the door and took her gaze towards you two, slowly, she starts to smile, widening it while she walks towards you and wraps both of you in a hug, muttering some positive words.

You leave a relief sigh when you hear her, not knowing how much you need to hear some positive comments after having discussions in your head about your relationship, that slowly, is affecting you two.

•••

"What are you doing here?" Alexia asks the moment she approached the stands, spotting you in the familiar zone.

You shrugged, putting your sunglasses up. "Can I come to visit my friends?" You ask rhetorically.

You smirk when Alexia shoves you friendly. One of her arms wraps around your frame, her chin brushes your cheek momentarily on your side hug, she doesn't want to fully hug you because she is sweaty.

Soon they started to come and share some words, you are having an animated conversation with Caro —who you missed so much— when Jana came, the only one who knew that you were there.

The brunette feigned surprise, sneaking an arm on your waist and kissing your cheek. She leaves you to resume your conversation with your Norwegian friend, she started one with the few ones there, some familiar joining too. You spotted Jana's mother approaching and some nerves got to you, making you misspell some words.

"I thought your English got better, since you joined Arsenal you know..." Caro teases you a little, hiding her chin on her jacket.

You give her an ironic smile, rolling your eyes on the process. Alexia comes back after greeting her family, telling you that they invite you to have lunch together. You can't deny her offer, not after they take care of you all those years in Barcelona, they treat you well and you are not a rude person.

So you nod with your head, looking at Jana a few meters away talking with her mother and Bruna, who joined the Barcelona squad again after her last season on loan in Brighton.

She is going to be upset.

"Can I come in?" Patri asks like a child, blinking innocently.

Alexia looks at you, letting you choose if she can join the improvised lunch. You shrugged, don't mind it. Big mistake, because it means some of them are joining and the best part is tonight you have a full meeting with the whole team, wanting to spend time with you.

You excuse yourself when you see Jana walking to the group once she finishes talking with her mom, Bruna greets you and keeps walking, letting you two alone when you ask for the defender to have some words in private.

"Love your cardigan." Jana hummed lowly, her fingers tracing the brown material while checking it on you.

"I borrowed it from my girlfriend, but shhh, keep me the secret." You say in a whisper, making Jana chuckles by your antics. Your features turn softer, knowing that you need to explode the little bubble creating around you two. "I have bad news..."

Jana frowned immediately, her hand taking you in a dissimulated way. Fingers intertwining with yours, she asked what it is.

"Alexia's family invited me to have lunch with them." You start to say, seeing how the defender relaxed her face until she fully processed the information, this time are her eyes showing annoyance. "I'm sorry, amor. I can't deny it, you can come if you want! A few of them are coming." You add, bringing her hand towards you the moment you feel she was pulling hers away. "Please..."

The young Catalan made a face, eyes watching behind your back with a pensative face. You lowered your head, your voice only a whisper for her to hear. You promised her tomorrow you will be all hers, without anyone interrupting your alone time.

"I know it would happen anyway..." Jana says, looking at your eyes and giving you a soft smile. You know it's force, but you lean and contently kiss her cheek, wrapping your arms on her neck. "I'm sweaty." She hummed.

You stay looking at her for a few seconds, appreciating her face. She looks more relaxed, her red face becoming normal again, her ponytail in the same position she made before the match started without a hair out of place.

You wanted to kiss her so badly, but you just held your wish and squeezed the hand you were holding, pushing her towards the changing room and rushing her.

While they all get ready, you stay in Alexia's car when you ask for her keys. It's been awhile since you and her hung out outside football, maybe the last time was before your first season in Arsenal. The midfielder accompanied you and Mariona to London to help you with the move, mostly you because Mariona has Lia and you are alone. There were a lot of promises and soft challenges now that you are rivals in the Champions League.

"We need to wait for Mapi and Patri." Alexia came, wet hair damping her fresh clothes. "What?" She asks when you stay staring at her.

"It's November! Almost December and you all keep with the wet hair. It's annoying!" You dramatically said, still you are tired of seeing them doing it every cold day.

She rolls her eyes, telling you to not start and closing the door. She cut you easily changing the subject, asking you how you got to the stadium and where you are staying.

"Well... If you don't remember, I still have an apartment here." You stated, and then proceeded to lie. "And a friend brought me here." You give her a lipped smile.

Alexia knitted her eyebrows, giving you a curious gaze. "Who?"

You hold a sigh, of course she needed to ask. "Laura, my friend that didn't like you." You don't lie there, not hiding a small smirk when Alexia gives a look.

"Lovely." She muttered, turning on the radio. "Stay tonight in my place if you like." The blonde says casually.

She didn't look at you when she told it, avoiding your gaze. If another person didn't know you two, it would look like Alexia made a move on you, but that's far away from reality. Alexia broke up with Olga and struggled with it for a few months, she is shy of asking you to stay because she missed you.

You can't, though.

"What if you meet someone... It would be very awkward." You try to joke, not wanting to give a full negative to your friend.

Alexia scoff. "That is not happening. First, I'm focused on football and second, I'm tired." She started to play with the key-chain distracted.

Before you could reply, the back door opened. You both look behind and see the people you were waiting for and Ona, who cheekily tells you that she is joining.

You assumed Jana was going with Aitana.

"It's supposed to be an invitation for you, not half of the team..." Alexia muttered, starting to drive.

You give her an innocent smile, in the background the bickering of your friends.

•••

You are sitting between Alexia and Alba —the captain's sister—, laughing and anecdotes flying on the table. Your cheeks hurt the amount of laughs for the old ones, Alexia's mom embarrassed both of you with some of them, the midfielder trying to stop her while her sister cheered for her mom to continue to tell them.

Leaving the cup on the table, you crossed your arms and leaned them there, looking mindlessly around you until your eyes focused on Jana. The brunette is having a conversation with Ona, to your mind comes the little time you interact with her since the match is over. A nudge to your side brings you back, Alba elbow your side in a soft manner and raise an eyebrow, signaling with her head to her sister's direction.

"Are you two coming back?" Alba asks with a smirk. The comment brings the attention of Patri, who added a comment excitedly.

"First, shut up," Alexia warns Patri, shushing her with her eyes when the Balear is to protest. "and you too. What part of we are friends, do you not understand?"

You look at Jana, catching her eyes on you both. Well, the attention is on you the moment Alba asked that.

"I'm teasing, relax hermanita." Alba says, her smirk didn't go away. "But you two make a good couple, just saying." She finished saying, taking a sip of her wine.

Jana's jawline clenched, on another occasion you would love to see the sharpness of it, but not right now. Her eyes moved to the empty plate, supporting her chin with her hand.

Alexia's mom reprimanded Alba, gaining more laughter from the table. Alexia is blushing furiously next to you, scolding at her sister under her breath and you don't know where to hide yourself, Patri and Mapi aren't helping with their comments.

"I think it's time to go." You comment after a moment, silencing the table. Clearing your throat, giving a smile to Eli when she told you to forgive her daughter's behaviour, you excuse yourself that later you would have another meeting with the rest of the team and wanted to rest a little.

"You sure you're okay?" Alexia asks lowly, eyebrows knitted.

You nod, faking a smile knowing that your friend caught it. Before she could say something, you stand up and reject the offer of her taking to your apartment. However, you make Aitana take you there because her apartment is closer to yours and Jana's.

The warmth of your apartment greets you and you receive it gladly, you open the curtains to let the sun's rays come inside and open a little the windows, it's been awhile since you were there, but you have friends to take care of your flat while you are out.

Fifteen minutes later, there are a few soft knocks on your door, revealing Jana behind the front door.

"I was waiting for you." Jana muttered, closing the door behind her when you turn to the kitchen.

You pause. "I thought you wanted space." Finally you said, taking a sip from your bottle.

She nods lowly, chewing her lip. "Well, I wanted to share it with you." She mutters on your ear when she approaches you, both hands resting on your hips.

It's inevitable for you not to smile, relaxing your mind. You brush your nose on hers before you peck her lips, Jana chased them when you separated and catches them making you close your eyes, enjoying the soft and slow dance.

Leaning your forehead on hers, you opened your eyes. "It's too much?" You ask unsure, appreciating her colour eyes from that distance.

That question makes Jana think, the references of her girlfriend would have been involved with Alexia again it's something that she didn't like to hear, but she swallowed and kissed her nose, muttering that it's fine.

You know that she is hiding how those words are affecting her. It's not the first time that they made a reference to you and Alexia or just that you have been involved with someone else in front of Jana, you two spoke about it a little more these past month when Patri talked about this topic in front of your teammates.

"I want my dessert..." Jana whispered in your ear, interrupting your thoughts. She gave you a knowing smirk, lifting you up easily and sitting on the island, putting herself between your legs. "You promised me before, remember?"

You blushed a little, but before you could make a remark, Jana silenced you with her lips, your hands stroking her jaw line and bringing her closer.

•••

You didn't think to spend your first days of the new year without speaking with your girlfriend. You two had a big discussion about your relationship, one where she got out of your flat to spend the night on Mariona's to the next day fly back to Spain.

It makes you think, to put some order in your head.

You have been struggling to hide your relationship, afraid of Alexia's reaction and not thinking about how Jana was feeling with it. It is affecting her too, mostly than she showed.

Without knowing it, Patri started the discussion. Jana read the text your friend sent you and you disagree the best you can, forgetting to mention it to her and then, she exploded.

The midfielder sent you to have a blind date with one of her friends, and it wasn't the first time. You reassured Jana that it's nothing to worry about, but it seems that she has other thoughts.

"I don't know why you are so afraid of her!"

She shouts at you, chest going up and down because it's been awhile like that. Still, what are the words that made you shut up.

Before she could approach you to apologise, you shout back, regretting raising your voice when you finish.

Jana clenched her jaw, wiping the tears that slipped from her eyes and muttering she is going out. You beg her to stay, at least that night but she goes and leaves you with the worst sensation you felt in a time.

You texted her and she ignored you, you called her and once again she ignored you. And that's hurt, not wanting to lose her you took a decision.

Tell everything to Alexia.

So you fly to Barcelona and come back to London the same day, since you have training tomorrow. You don't tell Jana anything, she will see you when you arrive at the training building. The only one who knows is Mariona, wishing you good luck and ignoring Leila's warnings.

It is a cloudy day in the Condal city, you drive from the airport to the facilities, the nervousness rising with the moment approaching, making you feel less bold.

You don't have a problem going inside, they happily leave with a content greeting and you walk where they instruct you where they would be. You sit down on the stands, greet the staff team and watch how the players are finishing the exercise. If Jana sees you, she doesn't show any signal about it, not like Mapi who happily raised a hand and greeted you.

"What are you doing here?" Alexia asks when she approached you, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her training shirt.

You chewed your lip, separating from the hug with Frido. "I came to talk to you." You say softly, the nervousness showing up.

Frido squeezes your side and turns to the other side when she senses your state, muttering to some of them to go with her.

Alexia frowns, catching your eyes looking behind. She turns and sees a few of them there talking, the ones who still didn't approach her friend. She turns around, not understanding anything.

"You okay?" She asks a little alarmed, seeing you shift your posture nervously.

You cleared your throat, nodding slowly. "It's something personal about me, that I want to share it with you, that's all." You explain the best you can.

The captain nods slowly, copying you. Her frown didn't disappear, so she sat down where you were before and patted the place next to her with a tiny smile. You obligate yourself after giving another look behind you, this time you catch Jana's eyes for a brief moment before she looks away.

"What is it?" Alexia questions softly, bottle in hand to hydrate herself.

You take a breath, making a brief pause. "It's something that I need to say without you interrupting me, okay?" You say carefully, seeing her nod with her head. Eyes on your hands, you order your mind to speak up the best you could. "Recently people are making comments about me and you, and in another moment of my life I wouldn't mind that, even I could join in teasing you, but it's not only you, it's some of them trying to set me up with someone else and I feel uncomfortable with this because the truth is that I'm in a relationship..." You see how Alexia opened her eyes, really surprised by your last confession. "I didn't tell you before because... You would be mad at me." You say in a small voice.

Alexia makes a sound, snorting quietly. "Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you? At least she supports Real Madrid..." She teases you a little, nudging your side.

You shake your head, letting out a small chuckle. "I'm in a relationship with Jana." You say in a rush, closing your eyes and not daring to see her reaction.

However, you can feel how the air changed around you two, the seconds Alexia remained silent it's a warning for you. Slowly, you opened your eyes and scanned her face. She is biting her lower lip, hard and she is looking at the floor, a tight grip on her bottle.

"At first I thought it was nothing serious..." You started to say again. "We decided to hide it for a while, but hiding it these last few months was a nightmare."

Alexia remained quiet, probably processing the new information.

"How long?" She asks quietly, still not looking at you.

"Eight months."

Then, she looks at you startled. "Eight months? Almost a year and you told me now?" You could appreciate that she is getting angry. She closed her eyes and rubbed her side, trying to calm down. "From all of the people, you date her? You are older than her."

The last words are like daggers into your soul. Her whisper felt worse than any scream she will give. You know she wouldn't approve because of that, because in her eyes, you are old to date Jana.

"It's only five years, Ale. And she is old enough to date whatever she wants. You are older than me and you date me." You said hurt, removing your gaze from her and looking at your feet.

"Only? And it's not the same. You know what?" She said, standing up looking irritated. You look up at her. "We talk another day." Then, she leaves you there alone. She stormed out inside of the building without looking back.

You sigh, defeat.

"Did you say to her that you are suspended too? Usually she put that face when I told her." You hear Vicky ask, her innocent comment put a small smile on your lips.

Looking up, you see Vicky and Jana there. Before you could answer, the defender is by your side and holds your hand. You can feel the weird look that Vicky is sending you two.

"I'm sorry..." You say in a whisper, leaning your forehead on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry too, for ignoring your calls and...-" you cut her, putting a finger on her mouth.

"It's okay." You simply say, putting away your finger.

Jana wraps an arm on your hip and kisses your head's side. "That bad?"

"I'm more afraid of losing you." You admitted, the heaviness on your chest dissipating the moment Jana joined you and held your hand.

The brunette leaves out a small smile, pecking your nose.

"ARE YOU TWO DATING?" Vicky shouts surprised.

You shared a knowing smile and turned your heads to look at her, watching how her eyes are opened like her mouth, a finger pointing in your direction.

"We are." Jana answers for you, turning your face towards her and giving you a chaste kiss on the lips. "Happy new year..."

You smiled, repeating the same words at her.

•••

The moment the team finds out about your relationship —thanks to Vicky—, they look very surprised by it. Still, they congratulate you, Patri apologising for her behaviour but with a knowing smirk for her intuition to assume you are with someone.

Leila warns you the moment Alexia closes you up, telling you that you should break up with Jana instead, but then she wishes you two the best and asks for her help to speak with your stubborn friend.

Mapi told you to leave her alone, knowing like it's her she needs time to process you are in a relationship with Jana. However, you were threatened by half of the team if you break Jana's heart, led by the Aragonese.

The days passed and Jana started to understand why you wanted to keep your relationship in secret. She never experienced how cold Alexia could be towards her, only talking to her when it is necessary or made a hard remark during training. Maybe you are more special to her than she thought, or maybe the gap age is a problem for the captain.

Some of her teammates are on her side, giving her reassuring comments. Ingrid and Patri take the roles to keep around every time Alexia and Jana are too close.

The brunette swore that her frowned was deeper that morning than any other day.

Jana didn't want to tell you anything, even if she knew that you figured out what would happen the moment Alexia discovered. But she had enough of her behaviour towards her, so she decided to confront her captain when this one made a mordant comment.

"Can you just tell me whatever you think about me and move on?" Jana asks in a firm tone, tired of Alexia's mood.

Mapi elbowed her side in a warning, the changing room went quiet the moment she spoke. Alexia's eyes were glued to her teammate, a little surprise could be appreciated on her features that soon she hardened and put on a stoic face.

"We love each other, it's not that difficult to understand." Jana presses on when Alexia tries to exit the big room. She crossed her arms on her chest and ignored when some whispered her name, seeing Alexia turn around slowly.

"You think you love her," The blonde hissed in a quiet voice, stepping towards her position. "but it's only a crush. A stupid and pathetic one. And you two commit the big mistake of your lives."

Jana hardened her features, pushing Alexia's chest with force the moment she finished. "The same you commit with her?" She shouts, feeling very angry with the midfielder.

She feels how someone pulls her behind, Mapi's back in front of her and puts herself like a shield. Irene went to hold Alexia's arm warningly when she makes the feint to get closer.

"I understand now why she didn't want to tell you anything! Because you are so inflexible you couldn't see that we are more than numbers." Jana grumbled, stepping away from there and slamming the door.

Alexia avoided everyone's stare, feeling a little embarrassed. Irene patted her back and muttered that she could help her.

She just nod.

•••

You were furious when you found out how Alexia treated Jana. You knew that she was hurt by you, but you have your reasons to do that and she didn't prove different from what you thought it would turn out.

Mariona tells you everything when you catch how your friend was acting a little weird around you, she begged you to not tell anything because if Jana found out you knew, the person who told her would be in problems.

So you didn't say anything and acted normal when your girlfriend called you two days later, wishing that she mentioned something, but the last thing she wanted to do is worrying you.

"Can you just drop everything and come here with me?" Jana asks in a dramatic sigh, making you laugh a little. "I mean it, I miss you."

"Why didn't you drop everything and come here?" You ask now, hearing her hold her breath and mutter that it's not the same.

"Barcelona is better, amor you know it. We have the sun, good weather, food... And the best club in the world." You can't hold the laugh for her reasoning, hearing her soft protest when she hears you, still you are sure she has a wide smile hearing you.

"I remind you that you almost got transferred last season." You hummed, parking the car in the garage and turning off the engine. You stay there, leaning your back comfortably.

"Shut up." The defender mutters, hearing how she is cutting some vegetables in the background. "The girls are coming now, they joined me the moment they found out what I was having for lunch."

"The girls means Patri inviting herself and a few more, no?" You ask knowingly, laughing quietly when Jana hummed an affirmative. "Everything okay there?" You dared to ask gently, starting to play with your nails.

She didn't answer right away, Jana took a moment to do so. Realising a small breathing, Jana speaks up. "It could be better, but it's okay. At least the cold stare stopped." She answers you in a quiet voice, you could perceive a hint of sadness in her tone.

It's affecting her more than she showed, Alexia is very important to Jana, being there on her lower point to reassure her when she needed it the most. It is someone that Jana looks up to, someone she asked for advice and considered someone special.

You are the problem that Alexia didn't want anything with her, and you are thinking seriously to intervene.

"I can go this Friday after the match and spend the weekend together. Would you like it?" You say in a thinking voice, remembering what you need to do the rest of the week.

"Are you kidding!? Yes please, I can't wait to see your pretty face in person again!" Jana excitedly says, putting a smile on your face when you hear her cheerful voice come back.

You end the call when the girls approach Jana's flat, promising her to call later that day.

Then, scroll through the chat names until you find the one you wanted to text.

I'm going this weekend, do you want to talk?

•••

You didn't receive a reply from Alexia, she read it but that's all you obtained from her. You didn't say anything to Jana, wanting her to have some freedom from what is happening.

Smiling, you see how Jana approaches the barrier where the family area is, jumping it up and running towards you thrown herself into your arms.

"Miss me?" You whisper in her ear, Jana wrapped her legs around your waist.

Jana puts her face in front of you and kisses you, both hands on your cheeks. Some whistles were heard, others commenting to go elsewhere.

"Shut up Claudia! When you have a girlfriend you will understand." Jana replied to her teammate, jumping down and intertwining her hand with yours. "Come, amor. I want you to meet Kika properly." She pulls from your hand and leads the way where her Portuguese friend is.

"Hi." You greet, waving with your free hand and smile.

Kika showed a wide smile, surprising you and hugging you making Jana whine a little because she was holding your hand and let it go when her teammate hugged you.

"You can live for a few seconds without holding her hand." Kika teases her friend, separating from you but remaining closer. "I'm finally meeting you. You are guilty of why Jana here keeps smiling without reason this whole time..." Kika reacts in time before Jana's hand meets her arm, smirking towards the defender. "She is pretty." She said to Jana like if you weren't there.

"I know." Jana says proudly, wrapping now an arm on your hip. Her smile widened when her eyes met your face, kissing your cheek softly. "Do you mind if I let you be with her while I'm going to change? Promise I don't take too long."

You nod, saving your hands on your pockets for the cold outside. Jana walked towards the changing room with Bruna and Marta, letting you alone with the smiling striker.

"You are the one they couldn't stop teasing Alexia, right?" Her question surprised you a little, it's bold on her part but you don't catch any intention behind her words. "Sorry, it's just curiosity."

Laughing quietly, you shrugged. "Maybe... I guess it changed, didn't it?" You ask gently, watching how the brunette nod with a sympathetic smile. "Hopefully it didn't affect the dynamic group." You referred to Alexia's mood on her new discovering you let her know.

"Sometimes, but don't worry. I think she is scared." Her words produce your curiosity, Kika shrugged and looked mindlessly around. "She cares too much for the people she loves, I think she needs time, that's all." She finished looking at you, giving you a warm gaze.

The Portuguese read Alexia very well these months that she is knowing her, not everyone could do that easily.

"Also you are hot, I would probably hit on you if I didn't know that you are dating Jana." Her smirk reveals mischievous, laughing when she sees your red face. "I would like to say I'm kidding, but I'm not." She says honestly, brushing her shoulder with yours.

You shake your head, leaning next to her. "I sense you are a Patri 2.0."

Kika snort. "I'm better." Her comment gives the affirmative you needed to confirm your theory.

While you two waited for Jana, you decided to ask her a little about herself. With the minutes passing some of them join you, Ona leaning her back on your front, not caring about wetting that zone with her hair.

"I am starting to think that you all are doing that on purpose." You comment, her hair brushing your cheek and creating an unpleasant sensation when the cold air hits your wet skin.

"Told you." Ona hummed to Patri, smirking knowingly.

You groan, not understanding your friends.

"You know who is drying her hair?" Patri looks at you teasingly, smirking. "Alexia." You open your eyes, not waiting for that name. Since you know her, she never does that, only rolls her eyes at you every time you mention it.

And like an invocation, the mentioned approach, coming out of the building with both hands on her pockets walking next to Caro. You noticed how she slowed her steps when the Norwegian came to your side, pushing Ona gently and hugging you.

"Never thought to watch you be affectionate with someone." Ona muttered, putting herself next to Kika.

Caro showed her middle finger to the defender and remained by your side after the hug, Alexia kept a distance from you, standing now behind Patri. From time to time, her eyes landed on yours and she removed her gaze to look away.

"Hey, Jana! Can I date her if you two break up?" Kika asks loudly when see her friend step towards the small group.

Jana frowns deepens, her steps faltering for a moment when she catches Alexia between them. The comment didn't bother her, she just put herself next to Caro and muttered that never would happen in a quiet voice, smirking at Kika.

Your eyes meet hers, seeing how they become soft and with a simple gesture of her head, ask silently if everything is okay.

It hurts you to have Alexia closer and feel the coldness irradiated towards your presence, you can feel how uncomfortable she becomes the moment Jana joined, the comment Kika made didn't help.

The group started to dissolve, Kika and Ona are joining you two to have lunch together. Biting your lip, you space out from the conversation they are making and follow Alexia's path towards her car. After you make up your mind, you mutter at them that you meet them in Jana's car and jog towards the midfielder, feeling all their eyes on you, especially your girlfriend's.

"Are you so stubborn to leave it to ruin our friendship?" You ask in a bold manner, making Alexia stop her steps. You stopped behind her, tilting your head aside watching how the Catalan turned to look at you with serious expression.

"Me? You are guilty too, don't forget." Alexia muttered bitterly, however she leans her back on her car and crossed her arms, eyes half closed for the sun fixed on you.

You swallowed.

Taking the opportunity Alexia is giving, you step slowly towards her, letting some space between you two.

"For being in a relationship with your teammate?" You ask, seeing how her jaw clenched and eyes turned to the pavement briefly.

"It's not that..." You mutter, some exasperation showing on her face. "You are dating Jana. For eight months." She points a finger towards you, some of her pain showing up. Her voice turned low. "You can date whatever you want, but Jana from all of the people?" She finished shaking her head weakly, putting down her hand and hiding it in her pocket.

Then, something in your mind brightened with the answer. Alexia is mad at you because Jana is like a little sister that she saw growing up through all these years and before her eyes, Jana always will be her kind kid. And you are her ex-lover, older than Jana and someone who could break her heart.

You lowered your gaze, biting your lip hard. "What we had Ale, was special and broke up because we see each other like friends." You paused, swallowed and continued in a low voice. "I can't promise you what will happen in the future with us... I want to risk it. I understand why you are afraid, you care about her. Shit, Alexia. I love her." You said messily, raising your eyes up to look at her.

You can't decipher Alexia's expression, she is looking at you but remaining neutral. Nodding with your head to yourself, remove a strand of hair from your face and mutter a goodbye, turning around defeated.

"I care about you two."

Her whisper was clear and loud, stopping you. Interrupted only by her car's door opening and closing quickly.

You come back a little better, Jana got out of the car when she saw you, wrapping you in a bear hug and kissing your head lovingly.

•••

You are out of breath for two reasons.

First, Jana is very entertained with her head buried in your tights, only raising her face up when a sound next to your two interrupted the moment. And secondly when you read the name, not waiting at all the call.

You muttered that you would call them later, pressing your phone with the screen down and laying your head on the pillow, feeling the light feather kisses Jana spread through your skin before she comes back to give you pleasure.

But you are out.

Your body is reacting, but your mind trapped you with Alexia's call. After a few minutes Jana stopped and leaned her head on your raised leg, looking at you.

Blushing, you spotted some liquid on part of her nose and chin, glistening her lips.

"Who called you?" She asks gently, noticing your lack of interest. She didn't sound mad, a finger tracing your hip's bone.

You push your hair aside, rubbing your forehead before answering her. "Alexia."

Her finger stopped, the heaviness of her gaze on your face. She changed her posture and lay next to you, scowling and letting out a comment about how she has a radar to interrupt, remembering that it happened in the past.

You turn to look at her, brushing your fingers on her hand and locking them together. Her brown eyes softened when she looked at you back, her features relaxing by it.

"It's a good signal she called, right?"

Jana leaves out a sigh, her thumb rubbing your skin. "I guess."

Your phone sounded again, this time indicating someone sent a text. You look doubtful at your girlfriend, this one half lies on your side when she catches your phone, extending it with a knowing look.

"You should see what she wants." She simply says, pecking your lips and standing up, leaving the taste of yourself on the curves of your lips.

Seeing how she disappears in the bathroom, you unblock your phone and read the text without going into the chat.

Do you want to talk? I can pick you up.

Her text is direct, letting you know that it is you who wanted to resolve the situation first.

You communicate to Jana what she typed you, she comes back to the bedroom with any trace of yourself on her face, removing it when she takes a quick shower.

Jana nods, nudging your arm gently. Her naked form lays on top of you, whispering that finally Alexia is thinking. You two shared a soft chuckle, she kissed repeatedly your lips before letting you go out of the bed.

You text Alexia back when you are ready, burrowing Jana a sweater and a jean alongside a snickers. Your girlfriend gives you a knowing look, the corner of her lips turning up when she sees you on her clothes.

Jana's, right? I'm on my way.

You typed a quick text, blushing. Of course she knew where you would be. You got out of Jana's apartment hearing how she sleepily wishes you luck, you smile to yourself and step down, seeing the Cupra parked on the side of the road.

"Hey." You greet once inside, hiding part of your face on your jacket, the only piece of clothes that is yours. The calefaction welcomed you and you felt glad.

Alexia hummed a greeting, starting to drive. The way is silent between you two, only broken for the radio's songs playing in a low volume. You know where she is driven, her flat. Giving her a quick look, you assumed she was elsewhere before she picked you up.

You don't find the silence uncomfortable, at least not this time. She shifted to the right corner and drove to the garage, parking on her signed spot.

The whole journey from the lift to her apartment was charged with nervousness for both parts, still the silence is present. It's a little stupid because you two have enough trust in each other to have this behaviour now.

You cleared your throat and trailed towards her couch, rejecting some drink she offered you. Nala came to lick your face happily, her tail couldn't stop moving and she gave little jumps on her spot, making you laugh.

"She missed you." Alexia says behind you, freeing herself from her jacket.

"I miss her too." You announced, Nala on your arms with her tongue out, looking at her owner.

Alexia patted Nala's fur, stepping to her couch and releasing a sigh when she sat down. Nala moves on your arms and you free her, seeing how she jumped on Alexia's lap.

You step towards the couch once you put your jacket on the coat stand, your steps are a little awkward. When you sit down, leaving a small space between you two you could see a smug smirk playing on Alexia's lip.

"I don't bite." She hummed, looking at you raising an eyebrow.

You scoff. "Are you sure?"

She shrugged, still smirking. "I only bit you a long time ago, and you see very well by it."

Your choke on your saliva when she said that, the warmth of your face increases in seconds. You hear how Alexia chuckles quietly next to you, muttering she is kidding.

"This is going to be our first conversation?" You ask, the apartment filled with Alexia's laughs.

A soft smile stays in her mouth, hand going up and down for Nala's sides while an arm hung loosely behind her head, eyes fixed on you.

"My mom says hi..." Alexia says quietly, almost a little shy.

You smiled, it's not strange for you that if she is talking to you now it is because her mother would be involved.

"How many times did she tell you to speak with me?"

She released a sigh, muttering a few times under her breath, making you chuckle by that confession.

"I have been thinking..." She starts, looking distracted the TV turned off. "How did you start with her? You commented that it started like something casual." The last part sounded a little uncomfortable, shifting her position on the couch.

Playing with your hands, leaves out a sigh. "Last winter in camp. I never connected with her before more than that winter. She came from a break up and saw her a little sad, so I recommend her to come with some of us to party when the camp is over. Before me she had a few girls screaming her name," you laugh when Alexia yelps and puts a hand in front of your face, begging you to not say anything. "Okay, I'm not going to give details. We kissed and the casual thing started. Then, it turned into something serious and we agreed to maintain a secret relationship." You resume.

"You fall for her?" Alexia asks lowly after a pause.

You nod. "I think it is impossible not to fall for Jana, friendly or romantically. She has this aura to attract people, more when you know her personally." You admitted. "Everyone needs a Jana in their lives."

Alexia tilted her head, watching you smile to yourself. From the time she knows you, she never sees you in this state. Even when you two dated.

"I'm sorry." The Catalan says abruptly, surprising you. Licking her lips, Alexia leaves out a sigh. "I'm sorry to react that way, and I'm sorry you guessed that I reacted like that. I don't know why, but I'm watching you now and I see what you have with Jana is real for the way you speak about her."

"I think you owe her an apology more than me." You say softly, seeing how your friend nods slowly. "She is hurt for how you treat these days. She didn't say anything to me, but you know I have my ways to find out. I know how you are Ale, I'm not mad at you. But you are a role model for her, someone to look up and say I want to be like her. You are an inspiration for many people, but especially for some of your own team."

Alexia puts Nala to the other side of the couch, closing the distance between you two she throws her arms around your form, muttering apologies and repeating she is stupid.

You know she got emotional and didn't want you to see like that.

•••

"Together?"

"Together." You answer, pocking your tongue out to her.

Jana laughs and splashes your face with her bottle making you gasp, her laugh intensifying. You run towards her but she moves quickly and starts to run away, you chasing her.

"They seem very happy." Patri comments when she stepped next to Alexia, who watched the interaction between you two.

Alexia has her arms crossed, half eyes closed because the sun is hitting her face. She waited for Patri to leave another comment, feeling how her friend put an arm on her shoulder.

"Jana 1, Alexia 0." And there it is.

Patri starts to laugh when Alexia gives her a warning look, the Balear raised both hands in the air. "Just kidding."

"We thought that you two would be together again after your break up." Claudia approaches them by their left side, eyes on you too.

Alexia knitted her eyebrows, regretting so much to share the relationship with you with them.

"They are cute." Aitana joined them, watching how you chased her and lifted Jana from the ground, a fit of laughter escaping from her mouth.

"Yeah... Until we start to hear weird noises coming from her bedroom." Patri says, all heads turned to look at her. The horror in Alexia's face was enough for the midfielder to run away while she laughed hard.

"The moment she is with someone, tell me." Alexia mutters to Claudia after removing Patri's comment from her head. She can't wait to tease her friend when she meets someone special.

"Gladly." Claudia smirks.

Now Jana has both arms around your waist, looking at you with an enamored face while you sip from her bottle.

"Also we need to keep that two away at night." Alexia tells them, hearing how Aitana and Claudia share a laugh by her comment.

[la-patrona-magdalena]

Synopsis:

You always wanted your family to look at you, even just once. At least with a bit of the affection they gave to the portraits of your mother. Too bad that when they finally did, you were looking at the pages of a comic that showed the cruel future.

Inspired by the manhwa: no place for the Fake Princess

Warnings: English is not my first language, so I used a translator. Yandere content, neglect, abandonment, angst (?), allusions to death, original character (not the reader), allusions to torture. I try to keep the gender neutral,but in part there are mostly feminine pronouns. If any warnings are missing here, please let me know.

Disclaimer: This fanfic is for personal reading only. The use of this text for AI model training, data mining, commercial purposes, or any automated reproduction is strictly prohibited without the explicit consent of the author. Translation or reposting to other platforms is also strictly prohibited without the author's permission

Thank you.

You can read the fanfic in its original language (Spanish) on my AO3

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Masterlist

Chapter two - See them Truly

This was going to be hard. In moments like this, you wished you had inherited some of your siblings' intelligence— well, Bruce's kids', really. It would also be hard to stop thinking about them as family.

You realized that while trying to fall asleep. You don't know anything about the outside world, or how to manage money nothing. You're only 12! You just wanted to worry about getting a good grade so Alfred would give you ice cream, not about getting tortured by some clown-painted lunatic. The upside is, that won't happen for a few years, so you have plenty of time to hide from the Joker's eye and think about what you're going to do with your life once Serelith shows up… unless you end up bringing her into this yourself just to get out of this strange family as soon as possible. The downside is that you want to figure something out now, and it's really hard to think when Tim's trying to brush your hair in front of the mirror in his room, where he dragged you earlier this morning.

—If you’re doing this so I won’t say anything about— He cuts you off before you can finish. —I'm doing this because I want to. I trust you enough to know you won't tell anyone… That includes Bruce and the others, okay?—he asks as he keeps trying to make your hair look somewhat decent.

After reading the comics, you learned a lot about everyone else's skills. Sure, you already knew Tim was smart—you'd asked him for help with your homework more than once just as an excuse to spend quality time together. But you didn't know he was on Batman's level, or that he figured everything out when he was nine. Yeah, you're way out of his league. If you were him, you wouldn't bother teaching some kid basic algebra either, not when you've got complex cases to deal with. …Although, he’d probably teach Serelith if she asked him…

The point is, once you woke up with a clear head and your emotions under control, you'd decided not to tell anyone about the comics. Which means you'll have to be really careful around someone like Tim.

—I won't tell Bruce or anyone else. I promise.— You give him a half-smile, one he definitely notices… When did you stop calling Bruce “dad”? Wasn't it just you and Damian who used to call him that?

Maybe Damian had something to do with your anxiety attack—now that Tim thinks about it, Damian’s so-called “company” probably just means fights and arguments. It was really stupid of him to think Damian treated you differently just because of some fight from years ago. Besides, you don’t know anything about Damian’s past! To you, he probably just seemed like a troubled kid. Tim should’ve paid more attention to you. He shouldn’t have kept his distance just because of his own issues with Damian. He shouldn’t have looked away just because everyone else did.

He won’t take his eyes off you, not until he’s sure you’re not close to another breakdown like last night’s. Not until he knows nothing’s going to hurt you again.

—Ow!— You wince as he tugs too hard on your hair with the brush. He mutters a string of repeated apologies, mixed with complaints about how hard it is to deal with your hair, though really, it’s just lack of experience.

After some struggle and a few tips from you on how to do it right, he managed to do a decent job brushing your hair and even put in a slightly crooked flower clip.

—Thanks,—you mutter, somewhat indifferent. Tim wasn’t exactly close to you not that anyone in this family really was, unless you counted Damian’s short conversations with his arrogant attitude. So Tim’s strange behavior today is a surprise. A part of you wanted to hug him and tell him about your day, ask about his likes, and knit him something out of wool with a design he might like, now that his eyes were on you. But the other part of you, the bigger part, wanted to throw in his face how, in the comics, he was so desperate to find Serelith, sleepless nights without rest, with such a tired and loving look aimed only at her, never noticing your absence. Why was he looking at you now? Was it because of what happened last night? He was surely making sure you wouldn’t cause any trouble. Once he was certain you wouldn’t make another “drama,” he’d go away. You shouldn’t get your hopes up about him; you can’t look at him with love because he won’t look at you that way. That belongs to his real sister, not you. You have to try to act normal about his sudden concern; you’ll only make things worse if you tell him what you saw.

Tim swallowed hard at your tone, yet he kept his eyes fixed on his task. He would make sure to learn properly later.

—I’ll walk you out,—he gave you a half smile, though it looked more like a grimace trying to escape the awkwardness. You just nodded, letting him accompany you to your bedroom door. —I homeschool,—you replied, returning the same awkward smile, which in your case looked more like a dry smile— —I just have to go to the study room. —Ah…— His uncomfortable smile faltered a bit. Why don’t you go to school? Did you even go once? Now that he looked at you properly, he should have known—you’re not wearing any uniform. —I’ll walk you there then.

You nodded, and Tim led the way to your door, then stood there still. Which was your study room inside the mansion? Maybe you studied in the library? Apparently, you noticed his confusion and walked past him, now leading the way yourself. In a few minutes, you showed him how to get to your study room. It was near the library, and he didn’t waste time analyzing the place as much as he could with a quick glance. It was a slightly small room compared to the usual rooms in the mansion, with several of your study things near a small worn-out stool, scratched in bright colors with different little animals. Inside was an older man, unknown to him, accompanied by Alfred, who gave a somewhat surprised look upon noticing him.

—Master Drake?—Alfred asked, while the man, who Tim assumed was your teacher of some unknown subject, looked at him with curiosity. —Oh… hello, Alfred. I didn’t mean to interrupt.— He looked at the stranger in front of him suspiciously while nodding in greeting. Could this man be the reason for your near breakdown? —Good afternoon. I didn’t mean to impose.

you entered the room, walking right past him, , and sat on your little stool in silence. Had you always been this quiet? Or were you only acting this way because the teacher was present? Did he intimidate you?

—Can you leave so I can focus?—you asked. You didn’t mean to sound harsh, but your tone wasn’t exactly gentle either. You just wanted space and to study without his strange behavior weighing on you. If he stayed, you felt like at any moment you might break down in front of him—run to hug him without caring about Alfred or your teacher being there. You didn’t want that. You couldn’t do that. You didn’t have the right.

Tim blinked once. The request caught him a little off guard. First you kicked him out of your room, and now your class? You? Didn't you know that he could teach you the same class you were taking without any problem? He lowered his gaze a bit, didn’t say anything right away, wondering if maybe he was overthinking it all. —Of course,—he finally replied, with that same smile that, after seeing it so much, gave you a strange chill. —I don't want to bother. He took a step back. Then another. Carefully, trying not to make unnecessary noise, like he was afraid of being a distraction even as he left. —Good luck with your studying,—he murmured before turning fully and disappearing down the hallway, his footsteps nearly silent.

He was already thinking about quickly finishing the case at hand to start investigating you, and all your teachers. Maybe he could even convince Bruce to let him take you to his apartment and homeschool you himself. That way he could be absolutely sure no teacher was hurting you. He didn’t trust any of them. Even if he investigated every teacher in Gotham, you’d still be safer if he was the one doing the teaching.

Alfred followed him with his eyes for a moment, then turned his gaze back to you, one brow slightly raised. Your behavior lately had been… unusual. You hadn’t come down for dinner last night or for breakfast this morning. He’d also noticed how young Master Drake had rushed through his breakfast and ran straight back upstairs. At first he thought it was because of the case he was working on—until he saw you with him.

Normally, he would’ve been glad to see the two of you spending time together. That finally, after all these years, someone in the family was looking at you the way you’d always wanted… But your behavior, the way you spoke to him, and that empty, pained look you gave him…

Alfred could only politely bid farewell to your teacher and to you, leaving you to study alone while he headed out to take young Master Damian to school. Who, by the way, was in a foul mood today—more than usual. Ever since he noticed your absence at dinner last night, and all the way until he got into the car this morning.

Grumbling in the back seat, the green-eyed boy sat with his arms crossed, not even bothering to hide his annoyance from Alfred, who glanced at him now and then through the rearview mirror.

Where the hell were you?

Damian hadn’t seen you since you returned from your shopping trip with Pennyworth, jumping around excitedly after buying some ridiculous comics. He had hoped, really hoped, to at least see you at breakfast, hear you talk about what you’d read while he pretended to be annoyed. But you weren’t there. If Pennyworth hadn’t told him you were fine, he would’ve gone to look for you himself. And if it weren’t for his father, he would’ve stayed home to study with you.

Not that he needed to. Obviously. He already knew everything they taught. But at least he would’ve listened to you, would’ve looked at you when you asked about something you didn’t understand, and then he could’ve mocked you and explained it himself afterward.

But Richard says “you need to make friends,” and his father agrees. He can’t argue against both of them, so if he has to socialize, why aren’t you coming along too? You, who don’t even have a double life as a vigilante, should be the one socializing more, getting friends in your civilian life, not isolating yourself in a room.

Though… part of him was glad you didn’t have anyone else. And he suspects that’s exactly what his father wanted when he decided you’d be homeschooled.

With a grunt, Damian got out of the car when Pennyworth parked in front of Gotham Academy.

—She’s acting like an idiot,—he muttered with a rough, irritated tone.—It’s not normal.— He glared at the butler for a few seconds, his annoyance clearly showing—though beneath it, so did his concern.

Alfred watched him for a moment before answering, his face composed as always, though carrying that same faint concern.

—I’ll take care of her. Master Damian should focus on school for today.

Damian turned his gaze away, jaw tense as he realized Pennyworth was trying to calm him down about his half—no, his sister.

—I’m not a child. I don’t need to be calmed.

—Yet you throw tantrums like one,—Alfred replied with his usual sarcasm. Damian only scoffed in response and started walking away, pausing only briefly to mutter something under his breath.

—She shouldn’t lock herself up like that. It’s pathetic.

When Damian first arrived at the mansion and met you, he thought you were pathetic.

Everyone else was a vigilante, everyone went out to fight at night—even Gordon found a way to stay useful after losing the ability to walk.

You weren't. You were just someone he shared half blood with. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn't pay attention to you for a while, just insulting you and telling you what a nuisance you were whenever you came near. It only took two interactions for you to realize you didn't want to be around him. It bothered him a little for a while, more than the others' attitude toward him.

He didn’t know why you, specifically, annoyed him—until eventually, he realized you were just like him in this family.

Clearly, compared to him, your combat training was nonexistent, your intelligence was average, and your hands were clean. He was the son of a devil, and you were just the daughter of a pretty model. He was a child whose father never knew existed, and you were a child who was always planned.

And yet somehow, the family treated you both the same. Except for Pennyworth, he seemed more familiar with you.

You were two kids who didn’t fit. Two kids the family didn’t quite know what to do with.

You both reacted differently to being treated that way. He fought back when necessary, every time someone dared to mess with him. You, on the other hand, smiled… and then ran off to cry. It was pathetic—but he hated it. He hated how you cried from the way others treated you. He understood, to a degree, that he came from a very different world than this one. But you? You were born here. You were supposed to be more loved, because you were cleaner, because you were wished for.

But somehow, the opposite happened. Eventually, he adapted. And somehow, they adapted to him. he made a place for himself. And somehow, they ended up loving him.

And though he’d never admit it, and he’d rather cut out his tongue than say it out loud, he loves them too.

And he knows, somehow, he knows, this family loves you. And he hates how, even so, you still don’t have a place here. They never adapted to you, not even when you keep trying to adapt to them.

Eventually, he chose of his own willto be around you. He found a way to make you interact with him again. It was difficult and strange at first, but he made it work

You weren’t close. You never have been. And he won’t allow it… not yet. Not when his mother put a price on his head and was capable of killing him. Not when that man is capable of putting Gordon in a wheelchair, capable of killing and torturing Todd, and capable of nearly doing the same to Thomas.

He wasn’t going to risk you. He’s already risking too much with the Joker knowing everyone’s identities. He’s already risking too much just by sharing a last name with you. Getting closer would only put you in more danger.

You have to stay in your place—clean, untouched.

Reluctantly, and only after Richard explained things to him, he came to understand that somehow, the situation you were in was the safest way to keep you alive.

So for now, he only comes close enough so you don’t cry because you feel lonely. He’ll send Titus to play with you, let you pet Alfred the cat, and listen to you rant about your latest wool creation or how tough a particular class was. He’ll come near and keep his eyes on you during breakfast, lunch, and dinner—even if his father doesn’t come down to eat with you. He’ll be there, talking with his usual attitude and way of being. He doesn’t act differently around you; he treats you the same as the others. And that probably doesn’t bother you… does it?

He’ll keep up that same routine until one day, he’s completely sure you’ll be safe. That you won't suffer for the life this family you were born into chose. When that day comes, he’ll allow himself to get close to you the way he’s always wanted.

If his grandfather saw him now, he’d tell him how pathetic he is for getting attached to you. And to some extent, he is. It’s pathetic how he gets angry when you don’t attend classes with him, even though he knows it’s a thousand times safer for you, according to his father.

It’s pathetic how he sneaks into your room at night just to steal a wool keychain you made and didn’t have the courage to give him. It’s pathetic how he keeps it in his pocket and carries it everywhere, wishing you’d make more wool creations for him, like you did with the oven mitts or Pennyworth’s scarf.

It’s pathetic how much he hates Drake after finding out he stayed the night in your own bed. Doesn’t he see that puts you in danger? And why did you even let him into your room in the first place?

And it's even more pathetic that he keeps thinking about all this. I'm sure by the end of the day you'll get over that attitude of yours, and at dinner you'll finally talk about the comics you brought yesterday.

He just hopes you don't look at him and think he's pathetic, how pathetic he is just because of his beloved sister.

Okay, two weeks as I promised… plus a two-day delay, dear god. The worst part is that this chapter was already written since the synopsis...

Ahem, even though I still plan to keep the two-week schedule for each chapter (now every Saturday), for now it'll be every three weeks, mainly because I’m planning the direction of the story better and figuring out how I want to develop it. I also prefer publishing chapters with a good chunk already done, not just writing as I go. And unfortunately, under my hyper-fixation on the Bat-Family, which makes it very difficult for me…In fact, I wasn't even sure I'd put Damian's thoughts on Reader so quickly, but I think they'll be important for the rest of the story. So yeah, thanks for your understanding.

On another note, I’m really grateful for all the support! I wasn’t expecting so much love and such sweet messages. I love you all, internet strangers. I tried to tag things as best I could, but one or two might have ended up mislabeled. Well… love you lots!

Taglist

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[naomi-nana]

Firstly, your writing is amazing!! Secondly, this idea has been marinating in my head for weeks- Could you write how the housewardens would react to reader taking extra classes to get enough credits so they can graduate with the housewardens, so that they won’t be alone? Sorry if this doesn’t make much sense, English is not my first language. Thank you!

✎ᝰ. just a little longer . twisted wonderland

in which you take extra classes to skip grades so you can graduate with them, but you ended up getting sick instead. how would they react?

featuring : housewardens (vice housewardens)

cw : gn!reader, might be ooc(esp vil, azul n idia because idk how to write for them), bad grammars, hurt/comfort angst

a/n : thank you, anon!! that means a lot to me T^T i changed it a little bit to reader becomes sick after all of that, if that's okay. thank you for the request! i enjoyed writing this!

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

while he respects your diligence, riddle also knows where the limit lies.

when he saw how sick you were on his way to go to the headmage's office to submit a paperwork, riddle almost dropped everything to the ground.

immediately approaches you in full panic but also trying to stay composed housewarden mode.

"you look unwell. is it because of all those extra classes? i understand that you want to broaden your knowledge, but you mustn't pass your limit. it will not help you in any way. it will just burden you."

but when you tell him that it's all because you want to graduate with him, so you don't feel lonely? riddle breaks. he feels something in him starts to melt, but he doesn't know what it is. you're telling him that you did all of this for him? he feels tears starting to swell in the corner of his eyes, but he composes himself.

"don't ... don't say things like that. i'm not gonna leave you, love. even if i graduate first, that won't mean i won't contact you at all after that. so, there is no need to push yourself so far, okay? i still have around a year and a half here, too. so we'd have plenty of time to spend, and you won't feel lonely at all. i promise you that."

but if you insist on doing all those extra classes, riddle won't stop you. just expect him to offer to help you in your studies and also to check on you each time to make sure you have your studies and rest well balanced.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

he probably already knows what you're doing and what your goal is by accidentally eavesdropping on your conversation with one of your friends.

would say something like, "what makes you think i'll graduate this year?"

but if you actually come back looking all exhausted from all the extra classes you took, expect to have meals already served by the time you got to your dorm room. also, a little note beside it that says, "i ordered ruggie to do this but be ok"

that man ... be ok? seriously? even cockroaches can write better love letters. you sighed, sitting on the couch. and that's when you suddenly feel a random pair of hands sneaking up your waist. "what the-" it's leona.

"heh, you thought i didn't do jack shit didn't you? well, guess what? yours truly bought the ingredients himself and delivered it here. walking. where's your thanks, hm?"

you smack his hands away with a frown, but you did thank him in the end. how did he even know you haven't eaten at all? and did he seriously wait for you to come home for like, an hour? also, what the hell did he use to camouflage so easily with the couch?

"i appreciate your effort, but no need to worry your pretty lil' head over it. even if i graduate, you think i'll leave you alone?"

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

this man is both happy and worried sick at the same time. it's the first time someone made such a huge effort to stay by his side forever, since people usually go out of their way to not be acquainted with him back then.

but he's also very worried if one day you come back late, hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled, and eyebags so visible even floyd can see it from five nautical miles. he'd ask what the hell you did to have such a messy look and also have a mild fever at the same time with a really shaky voice.

would order jade to make you some tea and begged floyd to go outside to buy some medicine, any medicine, from sam's shop. "oh, thank the seven it is only a mild fever. what did you do for this to happen?! i didn't know that taking extra classes could result in ... ugh, but i guess if you don't take proper rest, it is bound to happen."

when he hears that you did this all for him, he absolutely breaks. "what ...? you shouldn't have ... look, listen, i- i'm not gonna leave you even if i graduate first, you know? i'll stay by your side, no matter what happens. so, don't do this again, okay?"

if you really want to, he'd offer to persuade the headmage to give you higher grades so you can easily skip grades, but of course, you refused. that same night, azul will stay by your bed until you fall asleep first. (he slept first instead)

KALIM AL-ASIM

almost stumbles and falls to the ground running towards scarabia's entrance when jamil says you're waiting for him there. how could he not? earlier today, you had texted him that you feel as if you're having a fever from the amount of studying you did. reading that text alone almost made kalim faint.

he was about to come and escort you to scarabia himself using his magic carpet, but jamil stopped him, saying that flight would worsen your condition. so kalim waited in the lounge, pacing around the room impatiently and also worryingly.

"name!" almost tackles you to the ground but stops himself and slaps his own face for almost making your condition worse. "oh, god! i was worried sick when you said you have a fever! let's come inside, okay? jamil already cooked hot soup for you!"

if you decided to tell him about your reason for studying and began to cry while doing so, kalim almost falls to his knees. "hey, don't cry ... i'll cry, too! hiks ... i'm sorry for making you feel so lonely ... i'll make it up to you somehow, so stop pushing yourself, okay?"

would feel really bad and also overthinks where he made you feel so lonely to the point you have to literally push your limits just to spend time with him. if you assured him it's not your fault, he'll hug you. "i'm sorry ... please don't scare me like that again."

VIL SCHOENHEIT

immediately knows because rook probably knows about it first somehow and couldn't keep his mouth shut

he would invite you to his dorm room and lightly scold you about it. "i understand you want to have better grades so you can skip grades, but seriously ... there is a better way to do it rather than throwing yourself to random classes that don't align with your interest." he sighed while applying his newly bought eye cream to your eyebags.

he would give you tips while scolding you to also take better care of yourself. but when he notices you're starting to frown at his words, his eyes soften for just a moment.

"name ... i do love you, you know that, right? i am telling you this because i care for you. i don't want you to become sick just because you don't want me to graduate first. i'm sorry if i ever made you feel lonely in our relationship to the point that it makes you do something like this."

he'd caress your face, run a hand through your hair, and kiss the top of your head. "the last thing i would want to do is for me to make you feel lonely, my dear."

IDIA SHROUD

what? you're kidding, right? you're getting extra classes for him? an antisocial weirdo like him? this is like, a super rare event that happens once in a lifetime!

all jokes aside, he'd be worried (and shocked) if ortho came barging into his room with you behind him while yelling, "big brother! name is sick because they've been taking extra classes!", then throwing you—gently—on the ground.

"w-w-what the?! ortho! d-don't just leave them here!" genuinely nervous and doesn't know what to do. but if he notices that your breathing started to become quicker and unstable, and you also looks like you're about to faint, he'll (try) to calm himself down.

then, he'll offer his bed for you to lay on. "d-do you feel better now? i can ask ortho to make tea ... if u want. uh, i heard from the headmage you've been taking extra classes. why tho? that's like, throwing yourself into a scary hard mode dungeon. i appreciate the dedication, tho."

if you told him it's because you don't want him to graduate first and leave you alone, he'll feel terrible. he feels bad that he's the cause of your suffering, and he's immediately convinced why someone like him doesn't have that many friends because of that.

"calm down, i didn't mean it that way. i just don't want to feel lonely, that's all. i didn't say that you were the one at fault." you'll have to reassure him over and over that this is all your wish and not his fault at all. he's also probably the type to stay by your bed while playing games until you feel better lol

MALLEUS DRACONIA

this man was absolutely mortified(and touched) when he finds out that you've been secretly taking extra classes just to skip grades and graduate together with him. not only that, you also get sick because of those extra classes. that's what makes him mortified.

when he first saw how weak and frail you become after a week of extra classes, he thinks that humans are so fragile and easy to break. but he also feels bad and would offer you to sleep in his dorm for the time being until you feel better.

malleus would also be the type to confront crowley directly just to ask some questions. even if this isn't connected to the guy at all, he just wants to hear answers from the headmage himself.

anyways, expect him to ask you questions too. like: "are you still having a fever? would you like me to make some tea for you? is this bed comfortable enough, dearest?" and so much more. he would also be running around in the kitchen by himself if you said you were craving for some soup.

(sebek would want to yell at you for ordering malleus around, but holds himself back because he doesn't want to make malleus even more stressed.)

he would often ask lilia what he should do when this or that happens, and of course, being the kind man he is, he answers the question thoroughly(not without a little bit of teasing, of course). malleus would also want to put a stop to your extra classes.

"beloved, i understand your desire to stay by my side, but i won't tolerate it if you become sick just because of that. if you do not wish to become lonely, you can tell me, and i shall be by your side the moment my name leaves your lips."

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use (with or without permission), do not recommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

[yurunivo]

Synopsis: continuation of this idea (and also subtracting and adding a few of my own) part 2 part 3 part 4

TW: yandere behavior, cult ish behavior, mentions of blood, injuries, torture, SAGAU, inaccurate personalities, bad grammar, english is not my first language, very short

Characters: Natlan cast x Creator!gn!reader (slight yandere Archons too)

You hated this.

All you were doing was playing genshin and then you suddenly got sucked into the game! At first, it was a dream come true, but now you wanted to be out of here as fast as possible. All this suffering just because you looked like someone?

Mondstadt was a no no. The acting grand master found out so quickly, and the knights of favonious were on your tail. Liyue was also a no, the millelith and adepti was also there. Heck, Zhongli came out of retirement just to catch you! Inazuma? Raiden was enough. Fontaine wasn't any better either. You got put on trial, it's only because of plot armour that you managed to survive.

Sumeru was a bit better. The dendro archon found out about your status quickly, due to Irminsul. But, her people were out of her control, so you got hunted down anyway.

The abyss was even worse. Once they sensed that the creator came back, they were ecstatic to kill you. The abyss weren't known for their fondness of the gods after all. Right now, with the amount of times you fought the abyss and the people of teyvat, your entire body was like a piece of paper ready to be blown away.

You were walking to Natlan, as fast as your legs would take you. Your arm was filled with abyssal energy, and you had open wounds all over you. The sand got into your injuries, which really stung. It was hell trying to walk, but the tiny sliver of hope that Natlan would be different would be enough to keep you going. Usually, your wounds healed instantly every time you were injured, but the attacks from the abyss slowed down your healing. You would show your golden blood, but the injuries healed too fast and the people would be too consumed by anger to even notice your golden blood.

How long has it been since the chase started? Like one or two years? You couldn't really tell. Your mind was foggy, and your body was trembling and shivering. Just the thought that you'll eventually heal and get hunted down again, without anyone knowing about what was truly going on was enough to consider dying. You coughed your way through to Natlan, and as the sandy desert came to a halt for the beginning of Natlan, you could only hope that Natlan would be different.

It wasn't long till you passed out, but you got a tiny glimpse of a Saurian watching you...

Your head hurt, everything did. You woke up to your injuries healed, as you thought what happened. Your body probably managed to heal itself, so that was already explained. What was not so good and definitely needed explaining was that the environment you were in was certainly different, even if you remember not seeing much.

You saw a little girl coming towards you. She looked familiar, but you began to panic. Were you really going to get hunted this time too? If that was the case then dying seemed like a better option than anything.

"Are you okay?! You really looked like you weren't going to survive!" Huh? Why wasn't she attacking you? Was this really a dream? Thank god! You felt like crying at the kindness you were shown after so long!

The girl introduced herself as Kachina. You thought that's why she looked familiar. Perhaps you were not thinking straight from the suffering that you were inflicted on. You introduced yourself too, but you used (fake name) instead of who you really were.

"What happened? You looked so pale and your entire arm was covered with abyssal energy! Did you get attacked on your way here?" She asked so innocently, which made you realize that you had to create a fake story, and fast. You contemplated for a moment, creating a fake story within seconds was hard, but the sheer thought of being hunted again left a bad image on your brain.

"Ah well, I was a runaway from my home in Sumeru. I encountered some enemies and that's what happened to my arm. Is there any place in Natlan where I can get a job and a cheap house and a job? I don't have any Mora on me," you lied through your teeth. You had Mora from the treasure chests you saw in the wild, but it would be weird that a runaway who left everything behind has Mora on them. You felt bad lying to Kachina. But, for your survival, everything was necessary. She seemed to believe you, so you internally sighed in exhaustion. Children were so naive.

She felt so sorry for you, even though your story was fake. She took a cherry flavoured candy from her large bag and gave it to you. Finally, tears started to slip through your eyes. It's truly been so long since you had seen kindness being shown to you. A tear fell from your eyes as you cried. Kachina began to panic, but realized that it was best to stay quiet. You sobbed and sniffled as Kachina continued to comfort you. You again passed out from crying so much.

"There is a bar nearby that you can work in! And for the place to stay in, they have a space above the bar where you can be at!" You walked together as she continued talking. She was nice to talk too, and didn't really pressure you and ask any more questions which might have made you uncomfortable. You changed your clothes too, wearing gloves to hide your injuries from the abyss. You looked at the bar she led you to and thanked her profusely. She was so kind, certainly a gift from the gods!

You got the job and a place to stay. All you had was cleaning duty, and, compared to the injuries and (sometimes) vomiting you had to deal with by yourself, this was a piece of cake. You just cleaned the counters, the glasses and the floor and also throw out the rowdy people in the bar. The room you live in now was cramped, but it was at least better than having to sleep in defeated hillichurl camps with no protection whatsoever.

After getting a stable income, you started giving Kachina a lot of gifts. After all, she helped you so much when you literally had no will to live. She always tried declining them, but you always insisted, saying that she deserved it. She really did though, you needed to pay back her kindness from the beginning anyway. You also started visiting her much often, exploring or just talking with her.

You do meet her friends eventually enough.

"(Fake name)! These are my friends, Kinich and Mualani! I hope you get along with them well!" You were shaking, what if they weren't as kind as Kachina? What if they find out? What if, what if-

But, they were much more easy going than what you expected. Mualani was very cheerful, and Kinich was also very kind! Something was weird though. Ajaw was much quieter than usual. Sure, he still had those narcissistic comments, but it was like he toned down on them a bit. That was very confusing, but if the others didn't notice then you didn't need to bother.

You sometimes visit Mualani in the hot springs, just keeping your arms out of the water for the abyssal energy not to spread. You also sometimes visit Kinich in the Scions of Canopy. He does his extreme sports like bungee jumping, you just watch. Again, it was really unnerving on how much quieter Ajaw was..

But, this happiness wouldn't really last for long.

You were cleaning in your bar, secretly listening into some drama in one of the tables. A woman came into the bar. She was clad in a dark cloak, so you couldn't really see her. But, upon taking a closer look, you realized it was... Mavuika?!

You were sweating like your life depended on it. How did she even figure out that you worked here? Did you have to move again, when you we're just getting settled? Was this perfectly calm life just going to stay for false hope? Seriously, you were scared. You went to go clean another station instead of your own, but not until she managed to give you a message.

"I've been meaning to meet you for a long time, how about we just talk outside later?" She smiled warmly, but you just felt a chill down your spine. You were terrified. But, considering how powerless you were, you agreed. You never know what she might do after all.

Your shift was done, and you gulped as you walked outside. Mavuika was there, waiting for you. She waved, and you nervously waved back. You looked down at yourself. Your hands were trembling, and your entire body was shaking. The sweaty feeling in your palms never went away, it was uncomfortable, but not nearly as uncomfortable as having to talk with an archon.

"I already know that you are our creator, please rest assured," huh?! She already knew? But how? You never revealed your identity,what was going on?! But, all you did was nod your head, still nervous on what she could do.

"I've heard of the chase that you have been through in other nations, but please be assured that I will not do the same. I will protect you from the other nations, and you can continue living your life as it is. I will do my best to help you lead a normal life," you were shocked. Absolutely shocked. Since when did an archon treat you so nicely?

Venti chased you with his bow and arrow, and you got nearly got sucked into the black hole that he had in his burst. Moral was leading the adepti and Liyue Qixing to find and hunt you. You just completely avoided Inazuma. It would be terrible that the Shogun would find you, since she's not as "nice" as Ei. You thought you could start a new in Fontaine, but you got put on to a death sentence by the Oratrice. At least Neuvillette had some kind of pity for you. The eremites, grand bazaar and the scholars of Sumeru were also in the hunt. You started reflecting on how much suffering you had to deal with, as tears welled up in your eyes again. You went to hug Mavuika and just sobbed in her shoulder. She looked surprised but didn't question it as you cried. She patted your back over and over again, letting you cry all your frustrations out.

Of course, it's not like people won't find out eventually.

Kinich was the first to find out. He offered you to bungee jump with him, and you stupidly agreed.

"It won't be that bad, I promise," oh how you shouldn't have believed him. You were screaming the entire time that he held you. Ajaw was fuming at Kinich, which, again, was very weird. He never cared for anyone before, so what was going on?

Though he was holding onto you, it didn't really stop you from getting injuries by nature itself. You had a cut on your cheek, as blood began to seep out. You landed, and it was only when Kinich was recovering from the adrenaline rush, did he notice your cut. He was speechless. He was just staring as you realized the cut you had on your skin. Your eyes widened at the revelation.

"W-wait, I-I can explain!" You didn't even know what you were panicking for. Wasn't it a good thing that they found out? If so, then why did it feel like your heart has been shattered into a million pieces when he found out? Ajaw then screamed at Kinich, like he was reprimanding him.

"You filthy servant! How can you not realize that the creator was with us all this time?! Honestly, what went on in your head when you took them in such a dangerous activity?!" He spewed out to Kinich, while the boy was still in a state of shock. Finally, as if he got to his senses, he muttered out:

"You're the creator?..." He mumbled under his breath. He looked extremely shocked, and also extremely guilty. He ran out of words so quickly. This is how he treated his creator the whole time?

He was about to apologize, but you interrupted him. There was no way that you would let him even say sorry, not when you want to live your life as a human instead of some divine being.

"If you want a more detailed explanation for this... predicament, meet me at the outskirts of the Children of echoes, you'll get all your answers there."

Mualani was second to find out. You two were walking through her tribe, talking about getting swimsuits for the hot spring. The area was very humid, and the floor was very slippery.

Suddenly, you tripped on your steps and fell on the ground. A scratch was on your knee, as you realised that the blood would show. You tried to hide the injury from Mualani, but she took a glance anyway. Her expression was very surprised, but all she did was wrap a piece of cloth around your knee. It really stung, but you really hoped she wouldn't ask any questions about it.

She took you to a secluded area with no people. Just you and her. She was staring for a long time, and you gulped in nervousness. You were enjoying your life without being chased or worshipped, why did this peace have to end now?!

"Well, (fake name), actually it might not even be your real name.. But anyway, I know it might make you uncomfortable, but please explained what happened a bit ago," she asked and all you did was mumble an incoherent sentence with a bitter tone.

Kachina was last to find out. You were exploring some ruins that you found along with her.

It was just supposed to be a little expedition outside in Natlan, but you got way too many cuts from the rocks inside. It didn't really hurt, so you brushed it off, forgetting that Kachina didn't know you were the creator. When she lit up a fire to check in on everything, that's when you realised this. You tried to stay out of the light as much as possible, but she found out very easily.

"What's wrong (fake name)? Why aren't you coming near the fire?" She innocently asked. You cursed at your self for not realizing that she didn't know sooner. But before you could respond, she dragged your wrist into the light in an attempt to see if you had any injuries or not. When she saw the golden blood however, she turned quiet.

"Y-you're the creator?" She asked, almost terrified. Oh what had she done! Treating the holy creator so casually like a friend! You only looked down at her, feeling guilty at putting so much terror to her mind. You patted her head, unsure of how to respond to her.

"Yes I am, but I am your friend still, am I not?"

Spies can exist anywhere and everywhere. After all, it's such a common phrase in Liyue, the walls have ears.

However, the spies that were there to find you and excecute you, were certainly incompetent in their job, letting their emotions get in the way of things.

Seeing the golden blood for their own eyes, the blood of the "imposter" that they were hunting down, was not really easy to swallow. Instead of kidnapping you, they just took a picture with their kamera and ran like the wind, doing anything to inform their leader.

When the Archons found out, they were nothing less than shocked. They have been hunting their creator the entire time? No, this couldn't be! They trembles at the photo in hand, realising how bad they fucked up. Now they were more determined to find you than ever, not to kill you, but to welcome you into their arms. They will get you back, no matter what it takes. Oh and the actual imposter? They're as dead as they can be. Nothing matters except you now.

Nothing else matters.

This is so short Lmaooo hope you like it tho!

[wheres-mylove]

ice-cold revelations - modern!cregan stark x fem!velaryon!reader

Summary: You are in a risky secret relationship with your brother's best friend. What happens when Cregan's unexpected injury exposes your feelings? Well, isn't there somebody you forgot to ask?

Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!

Word count: 2.8k

The wind tore through the streets with a biting ferocity, tugging at (Y/N)’s skirt and making her instantly regret both her outfit choice and this entire trip to the bus stop.

“Stupid winter has to be coming,” she muttered, yanking a colorful scarf up to cover her nose. Her phone chimed in her pocket, vibrating with the familiar sound of a new message. She fumbled with one hand to pull it out, her fingers stiff from the cold.

🐺: jace wouldn’t stop bugging me about that earring under my bed

🐺: i convinced him sara must’ve left it when she crashed at our place lmao

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows, her breath fogging the air as she sighed. The last thing she needed was her brother playing the part of a suspicious rom-com wife, finding random jewelry in odd places and jumping to conclusions. At least he hadn’t figured out where he’d seen that earring before.

Jacaerys Velaryon, as much as she adored him, had a habit of being a little too protective. He was always there when she needed him. But he was also the kind of brother who, despite being only a few minutes older, seemed to think that fact gave him full control over her dating life. Any guy who so much as glanced her way was either a potential threat or one of his friends. And friends were off-limits. Too much drama, he’d say. Too awkward if things went south. Even more awkward if things somehow worked out. Conflict of interest. Absolutely not.

Which was precisely why, in the grand scheme of things, the most logical solution was for her to start dating his best friend and his hockey team captain, Cregan Stark.

Cregan was wonderful. The kind of guy who would do anything for her, no questions asked. That's what had brought them to where they were now. Hiding their relationship from her dramatic brother and quite literally gaslighting him.

Did she feel guilty? Absolutely. Did she know it would be a hundred times worse if Jace found out? Also yes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a bus speeding past the stop, tires screeching as it flew by. Her bus. Of course.

With impressive force, she pressed the green phone icon.

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s up?” Cregan answered in three seconds. Her irritation melted a little at the sound of his deep voice. Down bad.

“Hey, did you guys finish practice?”

“Yeah, just now, I couldn’t cut the boys any slack before tomorrow.”

“Any chance the strict captain could give me a ride home? I missed the bus. Or more like the bus missed me.”

“You’re kidding,” Cregan said, sympathy already thick in his voice. “Of course I’ll come get you.” He paused for a beat, then cleared his throat. “Only thing is… Jace wanted a ride too.”

“The gods are punishing me today,” she groaned.

“Call him. It'll be the same ride. Just, you know, he'll think it was his idea,” Cregan suggested.

“Are we bad people, Cregan?” she asked, half-serious now.

“Nah. He’ll find out eventually, just better if I’m in full hockey gear when it happens.”

“Fair enough,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. “Thanks. Love you. Bye.”

She hung up and immediately dialed her brother, requesting the same exact thing.

“Sure, you owe me one though,” he said cheerfully. “I don’t have my car today, so we’ll have to go with Stark. Is that a problem?”

“Nope.” No, her boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem.

(Y/N) Velaryon paced back and forth under the shelter of the bus stop, her boots crunching against the thin layer of frost that had already formed on the pavement. She rubbed her arms, trying to keep the cold at bay, when the familiar growl of a black Jeep Wrangler cut through the quiet. It rolled to a stop near the curb.

She jogged toward the car, her breath puffing out in small clouds, as the driver’s window slid down.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” Cregan announced with a mock flourish.

“More like a toad,” Jace quipped from the passenger seat, his grin unmistakable.

“One more word and you’ll get my bag to the head. I’ve got half my textbooks in there,” she threatened playfully as she slid into the backseat.

The backseat of this car had witnessed many events, and that was the first thought that crossed her mind. One look at Cregan in the side mirror, and she knew he was thinking the same.

She pretended to be very engrossed in buckling her seatbelt.

“How was practice?” she asked out of politeness.

“Not bad. Stark was all business today, but it was necessary. Big day tomorrow,” Jace replied, fiddling with the radio. Cregan slapped his hand away as he slowed down for a red light.

“Great,” the girl muttered, not trusting her tongue around the two of them together.

An awkward silence fell, broken only by some random song. How long can a red light last?

“So, (Y/N),” Cregan began, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His voice wavered, but Jace was in his own world, watching pedestrians crossing the street. “How’s it going? How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” she replied, playing with the hem of her skirt. “Though the classes dragged on.”

The devil on her shoulder won an uneven fight with the weak angel. She smirked.

“‘M absolutely knackered.”

Cregan inhaled slowly through his nose.

“Dude, it’s green,” Jace informed him, just before the car behind them honked.

“I can see,” Cregan reassured him, finally moving forward. “I’ll need your sister’s address since I’ve never been there before.”

If Jace had one more brain cell, he wouldn’t be so easily fooled.

“Sure thing,” her brother agreed, typing the info into the GPS on his phone. “Hey, kid, are you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” (Y/N) asked angrily, kicking his seat. “Baela’s taking me.”

“You know what I think?” Jace started, spreading his arms dramatically. “A girlfriend in the stands is such a power boost. Such a boost… I never play as well as when Baela supports me from the bleachers.”

“You never play well,” His sister muttered under her breath, but Jacaerys was currently listening only to himself.

“Cregan wouldn’t get it,” He patted Cregan on the shoulder in the meantime. “If you combined your skills with that support, if you brought a girl, trust me, your performance would be a hundred times better.”

“Talented people don’t need superstitions to play well, Jace,” (Y/N) chimed in, leaning forward. “Besides, Cregan is single.”

“Because he’s too serious and broody, girls don’t like that,” her brother declared in a know-it-all voice. She gave him a side-eye. “He is afraid of women.”

“Are you afraid of women, Stark?” she asked seriously, barely holding back laughter.

Cregan shot her a look in the mirror, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Terrified,” he deadpanned. “That’s why I’m thinking maybe your sister should be my good luck charm tomorrow. Just as a friend, of course.”

“Eh, it’s not the same,” Jace protested, scrunching his face.

“Don’t you believe in the power of friendship?” the driver asked with full seriousness.

“Can I get a jersey with your number?” (Y/N) batted her lashes playfully at her boyfriend.

A jersey with his number was already hanging in her closet.

“Alright, you’ll see, you need deeper feelings for it to work, otherwise it just won’t…”

Jacaerys continued his monologue all the way to her apartment. The girl sighed with relief once she was back in her room, the familiarity of it a welcome escape from the tension.

Two new messages.

🐺: you looked so pretty today

🐺: but next time wear a damn coat, or you’ll catch a cold!!!

The fluorescent light above (Y/N)’s head flickered ominously, casting creepy shadows across the cramped janitor’s closet. She swore that if the bulb died completely, she'd either pee her pants or spiral into a full-blown claustrophobic meltdown. Leaning back against the wall, she tried to focus on the neatly arranged rows of brooms and mops. Soon, the door creaked open, revealing Cregan in all his glory.

Full hockey gear? Check. Helmet? Tucked under his arm. That goofy, ridiculous smile? Definitely check.

“You look so good,” she admitted, grabby hands already in the air. “Come here.”

Cregan shut the door behind him with a soft click, casting a glance at the flickering light overhead. He sighed, took one of her hands, and kissed her wrist softly. 

“We have to tell your brother,” Stark said, his voice serious as he placed his helmet on the wooden shelf beside them. “It’s not right that my girl has to sneak me a good-luck kiss in a smelly closet. You should be able to strut right into the locker room.”

His girl grinned. “You’ve got your gear on,” she pointed out. “We can tell him after the game. Besides, Baela’s softening him up for us. I asked her to.”

Baela Targaryen was known for sniffing out secrets, and the second she spotted (Y/N) wearing Cregan’s jersey before the game, she didn’t even need to ask. Her knowing look said it all, and within minutes, Velaryon girl spilled the truth, enduring Baela’s delighted squeal that had probably echoed for miles.

“I knew you had high standards, girl. Going straight for the captain!” Baela teased, laughing. “Jace obviously doesn’t know? He hasn’t said anything... and Stark’s still breathing.”

Thankfully, Baela had been more than willing to help, distracting Jace so Cregan could sneak away after the pre-game pep talk. Now, Cregan was looking at (Y/N) with pride, his eyes lingering on the jersey she wore. 

“She’s a real one for that,” he mused. “But seriously, we have to tell him. I want a picture of us on my lock screen, and that asshole keeps looking over my shoulder.”

She laughed, pulling him closer and kissing him hard, savoring the way his rough stubble tickled her skin.

“For now,” she murmured against his lips, “just focus on the game. You’re incredible. An amazing captain. And it’s going to go great. I believe in you.”

Cregan grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Maybe one more kiss. Just to make sure we win.”

“The power of having a girl in the stands,” she teased, poking his chest playfully.

“Jace definitely exaggerated that theory,” Cregan confessed with a chuckle. “But honestly... I’m just glad you’re here.”

With butterflies in her stomach and a grin she couldn’t wipe off her face, (Y/N) found herself in the stands minutes later, sitting next to Baela. Her friend was watching the silent exchange of glances between her and Cregan with thinly veiled amusement.

“I always knew Jace was blind, but this is just tragic,” Baela remarked, elbowing her in the ribs. Jace, oblivious as ever, waved enthusiastically from the rink. Both girls waved back, cheering with the crowd.

“You’ll boo with me when the Dornish Spears come out, right?” (Y/N) asked.

Baela gave her a mock-serious look. “Technically, we shouldn’t. Obviously, I will,” she promised. 

The game was fast, brutal, and nearly deadlocked until the very end. (Y/N) had never yelled so much in her life, though her shouts were lost in the deafening roar of the crowd. Cregan played like a man possessed, commanding the ice with his usual grace. At least twenty times during the match, she found herself holding her breath, her heart leaping into her throat with every risky play. But she knew he had it under control. He always did.

Of course they won.

The victory rippled through the stands like a wave, and (Y/N) screamed herself hoarse as the crowd erupted around her. Cregan pulled off his helmet, his eyes scanning the stands until he found her. His smile—tired and breathtaking—was for her, and her alone. She didn’t regret the ringing in her ears or the scratch in her throat for a second. Moments later, he was swept up in a sea of celebrating teammates.

“Girl, are you crying?” Baela asked, pulling her into a hug.

“I don’t know,” She sniffled. “I’m just emotional. I just like that boy so fucking much, Bae.”

“I know, honey. Come on, they’re heading off the ice. Let’s congratulate them, and then have a crazy party or something. No time for tears.”

Cregan was one of the last players to leave the ice, trailing just behind Jace. But before he could step off, the captain of the opposing team, his face twisted with anger, skated up to him. For a moment, it looked like they might talk it out. But then, it all happened too fast.

The player from Dorne shoved Cregan hard against the wall. Stark, ever the calm one, simply raised his hands in a peaceful gesture.

And then he took a fist to the face. The sickening sound of bone cracking echoed across the rink.

“What the hell is going on? Jace!” Baela shouted, holding her friend back as she tried to rush forward.

Jace jumped back onto the ice, but by the time he got there, the other team had pulled their enraged captain away. Cregan stumbled off the ice just as (Y/N) reached him.

“Are you okay? Oh gods, let me see,” she fretted, her hands hovering near his face.

“What a fucking jerk!” Jace nearly screamed, skidding to a stop by the exit. “I called for help, they’ll be here in a second.”

(Y/N) carefully moved Cregan’s hand away, revealing the damage. His face was a swollen mess, his nose clearly broken.

“Do you think they’ll make me lie face-down on the ice?” Cregan joked weakly, leaning on her for support.

“Does it hurt a lot? Maybe you should sit down. Oh shit, I can’t believe—”

“Hey, sweetheart. Calm down,” Cregan murmured, his voice soothing despite the pain. “It hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”

Just then, the medic arrived, momentarily distracting Jace. But despite the chaos, he had clearly heard what Cregan just said. For a moment, Jace stood there, his face pale as the words and the image before him sank in.

“Sweetheart?” he echoed softly, but no one paid him any attention.

“Jace, maybe now’s not the time,” Baela said gently, stepping up beside him.

“I feel physically sick,” Jace muttered, staggering to the railing for support.

The medic handed Cregan an ice pack. “Hold this to your face for a bit. I’ll get you something for the pain right away, but a doctor’s gonna have to set that nose.”

Cregan winced but smiled through it. “You might wanna check on my friend first,” he said, gesturing toward Jace. “I can wait. He looks like he’s about to pass out.”

Jace did, in fact, end up passing out.

Cregan had to take a break from sports after that little adventure. He’d recovered, but now sported a slightly crooked nose—something his girlfriend found oddly hot.

(Y/N) saw his temporary recovery as the perfect chance to manipulate him into watching Teen Wolf with her every evening. After all, the title worked in her favor.

They were nestled on the couch, wrapped together in a soft gray blanket. It was their first time lounging in the living room of the apartment Cregan shared with her brother, rather than hiding behind the securely locked door of his bedroom. 

It would be perfect, really. If it weren’t for Jace’s constant, deliberate trips to the kitchen and bathroom, each one an obvious reminder that he was keeping an eye on them.

“Dear Jacaerys,” (Y/N) said, her patience wearing thin, “you do know we don’t need a chaperone, right?”

Jace barely paused, shooting her a sidelong glance before muttering, “You need someone to knock the stupid ideas out of your heads,” as he slammed the bathroom door.

Cregan chuckled softly, pulling her closer. “Give him some time,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple. “To be honest, I thought it would be worse. He’ll come around eventually.”

They’d already gone through several long, tension-filled conversations, with Baela stepping in as the voice of reason when things got too heated. They were careful now, avoiding anything that might provoke Jace further.

But Cregan was right—Jace was slowly coming around, even if he was still stubborn. The days of silent treatment had finally passed.

“This is on us for hiding things from him,” (Y/N) sighed, watching her brother embark on yet another purposeful long journey to the kitchen. “No more secrets now.”

“Your brother’s just looking out for you,” Cregan called out, raising his voice slightly so Jace could hear. “He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, and I respect that. I don’t know anyone else who cares like he does.”

Jace stopped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a sweet, mischievous grin.

“Yeah,” he began, drawing out the word. “So tell me sister, when are you introducing him to Mom?”

[reidswhre]

can you figure me out? ; spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you try everything possible so that spencer realizes that you are completely in love with him, but he just doesn't seem to notice it.

warnings: i had spencer from season 2 in mind, nothing dw!

a/n: I had this draft saved and I was improving it to be able to post it, I hope you enjoy it! I have a couple of requests, thank you very much!! I hope to be able to make them soon. 💗 By the way, english is not my first language, let me know any mistakes, have a beautiful day! 💘

Everyone at the BAU knew you were completely in love with Spencer Reid.

Except for Spencer.

Which was sometimes funny—most of the time it was—but other times it was frustrating. It didn’t seem logical to you how a genius with an IQ of 187 couldn’t realize that he was basically the love of your life. It’s not like you were trying to hide it or something. He’s just oblivious.

Because of this, Morgan and García proposed a little game to you.

“I bet you could flirt with him all day, and he’d think you were just being friendly,” Penelope laughed.

You lightly bumped your forehead against your desk, staying there defeated. “Don’t even say that,” you mumbled against the desk.

“Hey, hey, don’t be sad, cutie,” Derek gently lifted your head so you could see him. “It’s not as bad as it seems. He’s just… something else,” he laughed.

“Don’t say that,” you frowned at Derek.

Derek raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. "Hey, it's okay, I'm not offending your husband."

"He's not my husband, and he never will be if he never pays attention to me." You sighed.

"Look, sweetie, flirt with him all day, no filter." She laughed.

Derek played along. "That's right, let's see how hard it is for him to notice." He laughed too.

"Stop playing around, this is serious, don't be like that." You were quite sad.

"We're being serious too!" Derek exclaimed.

"I mean, it's what you want, right? For him to notice. It's not possible that you flirt with him all day and he doesn't notice." Penelope added. "And listen, babe, if he doesn't notice this, I'm sorry to say it, but he's ignoring you," she explained to you.

You groaned and rested your head on the desk.

After a while, you started thinking about what Morgan and Garcia had said. After all, you had nothing to lose; in the end, it was basically what you did every day. Although, of course, this was a bit over the top, but who knows if it was over the top enough for Spencer to notice.

"Hey, you." You smiled at Spencer, who was in the office kitchen making one of his coffees.

Spencer looked at you. "Oh, hey." He gave you a smile, one of those where he just closed his lips without showing his teeth. Pretty typical of him.

"Those glasses?" You smiled, trying to make conversation.

Of course, you had noticed them; how could you not? He started wearing them about a week ago, and he looked dreamy. So much so that you thought you stared at him for about five minutes straight a couple of days ago while Hotch was explaining a new case.

"Mm, the contacts were really bothering my eyes lately." He explained while continuing to prepare his coffee.

"Well, they look great on you; you look great, really handsome." You began your mission.

"They’re nothing special. I had to get anti-reflective coating because the glare was bothering me too. It’s a coating applied to both surfaces of the lenses to reduce the glare caused by reflected light." He started explaining, as he always did, not noticing your attempt to tell him he looked good.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 1 - 0 : You.

"Ah—right, yeah." You sighed and watched him leave the kitchen, giving you another one of his smiles.

Second attempt.

You were at your desks, which were next to each other, finishing paperwork from the last case.

"Are you done? It's almost lunchtime," you asked Spencer.

"I still have to finish the geographical profile," he said, looking at his papers. "But I can do it after lunch." He looked at you.

"Great! I was thinking, would you like to go to that sandwich place a couple of blocks away?"

"Oh, sure! Tito’s, right?" He said, recalling the name of the place. "Sounds great." He smiled at you.

You were a bit surprised. "Oh, really? Great—Yeah, perfect." You stumbled over your words a bit—he had just accepted a date with you!

"Great, I'll tell the others," he said as he tidied up his desk.

"Okay, sure," you replied without thinking. "Wait—what? Spencer—" Maybe you thought he accepted a date with you too soon.

"Morgan loves that place," he told you. "See you later, okay?" He smiled and left.

You sighed.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 2 - 0 : You.

You sighed again.

Hotch and JJ explained a new case to you—apparently, there was a serial killer in Mill Creek, and this other guy who called himself the "Empty Man." It seemed they had some sort of rivalry and were killing women without restraint. So now, you guys would have to travel to St. Louis to help solve the case.

Everyone boarded the plane, which took off immediately after the case was announced. Everyone was scattered around the plane, analyzing the case. You were sitting next to Reid, across from the little table that those seats have.

After that tragic and terrifying lunch, you were left thinking about the possibility that Spencer did know and was ignoring you to avoid hurting you. Maybe he just didn’t like you, which wasn’t such a big deal. But you wished that if that were the case, he would at least tell you.

"Are you okay?" you heard the voice of the man from Las Vegas next to you.

"Hm? Yeah, yeah, of course," you replied instinctively.

"You don’t seem like it," he said with a frown.

Great, now he was starting to notice things.

"Really, I’m fine. I was just—thinking," you replied honestly.

"About what?" he asked.

"About you," you blurted out. The truth was, it was now or never; it didn’t matter whether he felt the same way or not.

"Me? Why about me?" he asked, even more confused.

"You're incredible, Reid," you laughed—it was better than crying. "I’ve been trying all day to get you to notice how much I like you! And you don’t understand anything!"

Awesome.

Spencer’s obliviousness: 3 - 0 : You.

Double awesome.

"Do you like me?" Spencer said, completely clueless.

"Of course i do! Ever since I got here. And I've tried everything but—" You sighed. "You don't like me... And that's okay, I don't expect you to, I just wish you'd tell me, you know?"

Spencer let out the breath he was holding and laughed a little. "Where did you get that from? How do you think I don't like you?"

"I do?" You opened your mouth in surprise, which made him laugh.

"Of course you do," he laughed. "I just thought you were being nice to me, you're nice to everyone, I didn't think it was special with me."

"Of course you are!" You laughed.

"According to April Bleske-Rechek, the psychologist leading the task force that studied the relationship between men and women, males and females have a very different perception of the messages they receive from the opposite sex." Reid started to Reidplain as he always did. "This, especially in the case of men, leads them to misinterpret signals."

"Really?" You said sarcastically, leaning on your hand, watching him as he explained.

"Yes, which is why I thought I was misinterpreting you." He shrugged.

"Not at all." You smiled as you brushed a strand of hair off his forehead.

"We're in the middle of a case, I'd appreciate it if you two could behave," Hotch said from the back of the plane.

"Oh, right, right, yeah—I'm sorry," both of you mumbled a bunch of incoherent apologies.

Then you looked at each other out of the corner of your eye with a small smile.

Awesome.

You: 1 - 3: Spencer’s obliviousness.

Triple awesome.

Take that, silly mental scoreboard.

[sacr1ficialang3l]

†These crosses all over my body remind me of who I used to be.†

SUMMARY: Sam and Dean dress up as priest to investigate some mysterious deaths. What Sam does not expect is to find himself a little sacrificial lamb in the process. 4.7k

WARNINGS: smut (mdni). religious themes. religious trauma. mentions of self-harm. reader is an ex-catholic. one tiny scene of s.a. but nothing really happens. car sex. unprotected piv. blasphemy. priest kink. reader is heavily traumatized. if you're extremely religious or sensitive to religious imagery pls don't read. writer is also heavily traumatized and has a thing for rosaries.

NOTES: here i am again, writing about priest!sam. everyone say thank you ethel cain. as always, english is not my first language. enjoy<3

You knew something was going to happen today, you just didn’t expect it to come in the shape of a hot priest.

Your friend Alex’s cousin died a day ago. He was found in his room, his own wired earphones wrapped around his neck. He didn’t hang himself, instead he had somehow pulled on the earphones for long enough to kill himself. The police couldn’t really explain it, but there was no sign of break in or the presence of anyone else in the room either. 

You had only met the guy once, which made your presence at his wake just a little awkward. It was supposed to be a family-and-close-friends-only kind of thing, but it was being held at Alex’s house, and she had begged you to come.

Alex didn’t have the best relationship with her family. They were all very religious, strict, and… moralistic. Her parents weren’t that bad, but the rest of the family was pretty awful. They never skipped a chance to comment on her clothes, or question her career decisions, and God forbid they saw her even glance at the beers her uncles were drinking like holy water.

You once even had to hear one of her aunts ask what was taking so long for her to get a husband and start having kids. You were both 20 at the time.

Now, two years later, you’re trapped in one small house with at least twenty of them. You convinced Alex’s mom that there would be too many people and she’d be way too busy to serve them all, so you offered to help by passing around snacks and drinks. It worked, and she let you stay. But that means you’re now stuck in the corner of the living room with a tray full of mini chocolate chip cookies, smiling at a bunch of people you really don’t like.

Alex had advised you to dress up for the occasion, and you had to dig deep into your closet to find the clothes you used to wear when you actually attended church. You wore a black dress that was supposed to hit your knees, but since you hadn’t worn it since you were a teen, it now hit almost at mid-thigh. It earned you a few questioning looks from the grand-aunts, but at least it covered what it needed to.

In your search, you also found an old rosary. It used to be your favorite, and the sight of it made you feel nauseous for just a second. Still, just for Alex, you placed it around your neck and pretended it didn’t drag you back to the dark times.

It used to be a comfort to have around your neck. Now, it’s tight and itchy. Like a noose, or a leash, or both. 

It feels like a punishment—like the weight of sins you no longer believe in but still carry.

You’re walking toward a group of gossiping women—so much for “Do not go about spreading slander among your people,” you guess—when two new people walk through the door. You start to dread the presence of more self-righteous old assholes… until you actually catch sight of them.

Two priests enter the living room, followed by Alex’s father. They’re in full getup—suits, Bibles, and clerical collars. And they are insanely hot.

Both guys look younger than thirty, and they’re explaining something to Alex’s parents. You stare for a moment longer than necessary, until the shorter one glances over and catches your eye. 

You immediately turn around and start walking somewhere, anywhere. You try to find your friend, but she’s nowhere in sight, so you just head toward the group of ladies you were originally aiming for and offer them some cookies.

That’s when Alex’s mother finds you and hands you a new tray with the mini-pies you and her daughter made yesterday.

“The church sent their two new junior priests to pay their respects. Isn’t that so kind of them?” she asks, genuinely touched by it. You try not to grimace. “Go and offer them the pies, and make sure to get them everything they need.”

Cool. Now you had to serve two literal clerics. Like this day couldn’t get any worse.

You’re awkward and shy when around people you find attractive, so you walk up to the men with your eyes on the floor and a mental chant of don’t trip, don’t trip, don’t trip.

“Uhm—mini-pies?”

You meet their eyes for a second. First the shorter one’s, who at the mention of pie immediately looks toward the tray and starts digging in. Okay, safe. Then your eyes drift to the taller one. 

And Holy fucking God indeed. 

The guy is absolutely gorgeous. Big hazel eyes, his styled long hair already falling onto his forehead a bit from the heat of the summer, and just so fucking tall. You can only hold eye contact for a second before your gaze drops back to the floor. 

“Hell yeah.” exclaims the first guy, mouth stuffed with mini-pies.

You raise your eyebrows, surprised by his cursing. Some priests, huh?

It’s not the most blasphemous thing you’ve seen a man of the church do anyway, so you don’t comment on it.

The taller—giant, just fucking huge—man sends him a glare and rolls his eyes. 

“Excuse him, he is our newest recruit. I’m Father Frehley.” He presents himself, extending his hand towards you. 

For the smallest second, you’re overcome with terror. That hand, sliding out from a black sleeve, framed by the white, crisp cuffs—it’s too familiar. Too sickening.

You swallow it. Don’t be fucking pathetic. Get over it.

You struggle a bit to grab the tray with just one hand, movements clumsy with nerves, but the other guy helps you by grabbing the whole tray and immediately devouring the rest of the mini-pies. 

You shake Father Frehley’s hand, meeting his eyes again. One, two, three, four… you look away. Okay, an improvement.

“This is Father Simmons.”

The shorter guy shakes his hand in greeting gesture, crumbs and blueberry filling all over his mouth. You frown a little, looking back and forth between the priests.

“Frehley and Simmons? Like… Kiss?” You raise an eyebrow, making both men stare at you, taken aback for a second, before Frehley chuckles and lowers his head.

“Yeah, exactly. Freakish coincidence.”

You’re still a bit skeptical, but you let it go. You already had enough to deal with today. 

“So, are you the daughter of the homeowners?” Simmons asks, using a napkin to clean the remains of mini-pies off his face. 

You shake your head quickly. “Oh, no. No, I am their daughter Alex’s friend.” You introduce yourself.

“So you knew the deceased?” Frehley asks, glancing around the room. You take the chance to study his features. Once his eyes return to you, you look down at your hands.

“Not really. I think I met him once or twice,” you shrug. The priests look a bit confused, so you continue. “The truth is, Alex doesn’t really… get along with some of the people here.”

You glance around the room again, trying to find Alex. She’s alone at the dessert table, looking like she definitely needs a sweet treat. But she doesn’t need rescuing—yet.

“I’m here for moral support. Even though I don’t like them much either.”

“Well, it is in times like this when the Lord wants us to support each other the most,” Simmons begins. “I’m sure He is pleased with you—”

That’d be a new one, he never seemed to be before.

You can’t help the snort that escapes you but you quickly turn to the priests, apologetic.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to disrespect you,” you add quickly. “Thank you for your words.”

You try to sound as genuine as possible, but you’re pretty sure your expression gives you away. 

“So why do they have you handing out snacks?” Frehley asks in a low voice, leaning forward a bit. God, his voice is so smooth and warm. Maybe you wouldn’t mind attending Mass if he were the one directing it.

“That’s how I convinced her mom to let me stay.” You sigh, shaking your head. Come on, girl. That was a Father. “But my real mission is to keep an eye on Alex. The moment some invasive family member tries to interrogate her, I slide in and interrupt the speech with some desserts.”

Both men chuckle at your words, and you study their faces again. What were two sexy guys like that doing in the church? You guess life does work in mysterious ways. 

They continue asking what you know about the cousin’s death. You recount what you’ve heard, always keeping an eye on your friend. At some point, you two make eye contact, and she sends you one of those “those guys are fine” looks. You have to bite down a laugh.

“It was nice of you to come.” you add once the silence gets a bit awkward. “I am sure many here find comfort in your presence.”

“Not you, though?” Simmons jokes, and you can’t help but let out an amused huff.

“That obvious?”

“Just a bit.” Frehley looks at you with the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen. You swear this is divine punishment.

“Yeah, well… my relationship with religion isn’t the best.” you avert your gaze again. “Grew up very Catholic—and I’m talking all-girls, nun-run Catholic school kinda thing.”

And now I feel guilty for breathing… and also kinda wanna fuck a priest. 

“Oh, so the hardcore stuff.” Simmons teases, and it makes you laugh.

“But you’re not anymore?” 

You shake your head. “No,” You had worked for years to keep the apology out of your voice when you said this. “I’m not.”

The eyes of the Christ in the front of the bible being held in Frehley’s arms burn into your skin.

“Let's say my relationship with God is very complicated.” You scoff, taking in a deep breath. “I really don’t mean to offend, but… many things happened that made me—well, not a fan of all things religious.” The scars on your back ache just a little, but you ignore it.

Both priests nod, and they don’t seem angry. They’re young, and seem smart enough to understand. You relax a bit, feeling less uncomfortable than you usually do around clergy members.

You feel both their eyes on you then, so your gaze drifts around the living room. And thank every deity you’ve ever heard of—because there’s Alex, cornered by the man you two had dubbed Creepy Uncle.

You quickly grab the old tray with the cookies (Simmons had finished off all the mini-pies) and turn back to the priests.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Fathers,” you say quickly, walking backward. “I think the mom’s in the kitchen if you wanna talk to her—but right now, I’ve gotta go play superhero.”

Turns out, going to save Alex from Creepy Uncle was a very bad idea. Because the moment she’s out of sight, he latches onto you.

He keeps inching closer, backing you up against the dessert table. His breath reeks of beer, and the way he pronounces every word—slow, suggestive, like he thinks he’s clever—makes your skin crawl. Even the spit flying from his mouth feels calculated. It all reminds you of the men from your old church: the cheating husbands who hovered near high schoolers, that one youth pastor you still try not to think about.

His hand starts to move toward you, and you freeze. Too many years of being taught not to fight back. Your stomach flips as his fingers reach for a strand of your hair—

And then your guardian angel steps in.

“Mrs. Evergreen wants us to pray.” Frehley hovers behind Creepy Uncle. His dark eyes and twisted mouth make him look menacing, almost scary. Like a predator—big, stealthy, quiet, but ready to sink his teeth into your jugular if he had to.

A different kind of fear bubbles inside you. The kind that makes you press your thighs together, heat pooling in your lower stomach.

Creepy Uncle finally leaves, looking bashful in front of the priest.

Frehley gives you a careful yet somehow comforting look before walking away to stand next to Simmons.

You stay in the back, hiding in the corner of the living room as the family begins to pray. You try to keep your expression neutral, forcing yourself to be respectful. Not everyone who believes in God is bad, you tell yourself, over and over.

A few tears are shed during the more emotional speeches. The priests stand in the background, both of them looking a little lost. Did the church really send their newest, least-prepared members for this?

You’re already congratulating yourself for how well you're handling the situation when Alex’s aunt, the mother of the deceased, walks to the front of the room.

“Oh merciful God, I beg for you to forgive me.”

There it is. You see it in her eyes, her trembling hands, the pained tremor in her voice. The guilt, the shame, the self-blame. The same weight that was once tattooed into you, the one you can’t seem to get rid of.

Her son is dead, and she’s apologizing for it.

You shift on your feet, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. It tastes like wine and sacramental bread, the same taste that was forced into your mouth the day of your first communion.

“I confess to almighty God, and to you, my brothers and sisters, that I have greatly sinned.”

No. No, no, no, no, no.

“In my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done, and in what I have failed to do.”

Your knees weaken, and your throat tightens. Not this one. Not this prayer. Not again.

“Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault;”

You’re drowning, choking, dying. The rosary around your neck tightens. The crucifix on the wall looms over you, ready to strike. God is here, and He demands repentance with blood.

“Therefore I ask blessed Mary ever-Virgin, all the Angels and…”

You run. You did back then, and you do now.

You stumble out of the house, breath ragged, panic clawing at you.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea máxima culpa.

You fall to your knees on the sidewalk, skin scraping like it did when you spent every waking moment kneeling.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea máxima culpa.

The church chorus, the smell of incense, the bleeding Christ.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea máxima culpa.

The fear of punishment, the confessional’s dark embrace, the heavy footsteps of the pastor behind you, the crushing need to repent.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea máxima culpa.

Sin. You’re a sinner. The snap of leather against your skin.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea máxima culpa.

The cold floor beneath your hands and knees, the warm blood trickling down your back. Your firm grip on the whip.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea máxima culpa.

“Hey, are you okay?”

The sudden voice makes you jump. You look up quickly, meeting Frehley’s gentle, hazel eyes. You try to steady your breathing, to rise on shaky legs.

The priest offers a hand. You take it.

It’s the first time you’ve felt the gentle touch of a cleric.

You clear your throat quickly, wiping away a stray tear you hadn’t noticed rolling down your cheek.

“Yeah, Father Frehley,” you choke out, the title catching in your throat. “‘M fine, just—had a moment there.”

You laugh, like you always do in these moments. Because you either laugh, or you lose your mind.

There’s a moment of silence in which the priest studies you slowly, as you try to get your body back in check—pushing the panic back into the little sealed box in the deepest part of your brain, the one you designed for it years ago.

“Sam,” Frehley murmurs, and you look up at him, confused. “That’s my name. You can call me Sam.”

It makes your heart slow a little, your breathing gradually steadying. You nod, running a hand through your hair.

“Sam.” you say it slowly, savoring it. It still tastes religious—but differently.

Like salvation. Like sin. Divine, almost. Godly.

“Aren’t you supposed to be leading the prayer?” you ask once you’ve composed yourself, forcing a relaxed smile back onto your face, even though your hands still tremble and something remains lodged in your throat.

The bite of the forbidden fruit—damning you to be crucified for sins committed long before your conception.

“Father Simmons is on it,” he says with a hint of amusement, and you can’t help but imagine the pie-smudged, cursing priest standing before Alex’s puritan family. You almost laugh.

“You’re bleeding.”

You look down, feeling the warmth of blood running down your legs. Somehow, your knees always end up bloody.

“I’ve been for a while.” The words slip out before you can stop them—too honest, too painful. Sam’s worried gaze catches you, but you quickly try to brush it off. “It’s okay. I’ll just go inside and clean up.”

But the thought of going back inside that house makes your stomach turn. You glance at the front door, where the words “God loves you” on the rug seem almost mocking.

“My b—Simmons’ car is parked nearby,” Sam stutters, and it ignites the doubt in your mind again. “We have a first-aid kit. You don’t have to go back there.”

He nods towards a black classic car parked down the street, and you hesitate for a moment before following him toward it.

You might as well.

If anything, dying in the hands of a psychopathic priest would be the biggest cosmic joke ever written.

Sam, movements slow and steady, opens the backseat door for you.

You sit sideways on the leather seat, legs dangling out the open door, body angled toward the street. It feels exposed, vulnerable, like a patient waiting in a pew. Sam moves to the trunk, retrieving what you assume is the first-aid kit.

Feeling more than a little nervous about being alone with a man who is not only a cleric but also hot as hell, your hand unconsciously reaches for your rosary, fingers curling around the cross like they used to when you were a child.

Your long, slender fingers wrap around the same crucifix your chubby, sticky ones once did. They fidget just like they used to—during Mass, in religion class, or when your mother was screaming behind the door.

A moment later, you realize what you’re doing. You yank your hand away so fast it hits the car doorframe with a dull thud.

After all these years. After you’ve scrubbed your skin raw trying to wash it away. After clawing at your flesh with teeth and nails to purge every drop of holy water you were bathed in.

Your hand still reaches for the rosary.

“Got it.” Sam appears in front of you, white box in hand, pulling you back from the dark void you were about to fall into.

That’s when he kneels, right before you.

Your breath hitches at the sight. Sam, with broad shoulders and a clerical collar, kneeling right before you. 

He leaves the kit on the ground and opens it, first grabbing a cloth and some antiseptic. He leans in, and your legs unconsciously part.

One of his hands—calloused in a way you knew clerics' hands never were—wraps around your calf, long fingers closing around your flesh reverently. His other hand, the one holding the cloth, presses it gently against the wound, cleaning the dripping blood.

Sam moves even closer, getting right between your legs.

It’s too much. The white cuffs and black sleeves of the hands around your leg, the old Sunday Mass dress riling up your thighs, the rosary rising and falling on your chest with every heavy breath.

You feel wetness pooling in your cunt, soaking your lacy panties. You wonder if Sam can smell it, if he can taste your arousal from where he is—so close, yet so far away.

If he does, he doesn’t react. He continues to clean the blood off your knees, some of it getting onto his fingers. He doesn’t notice, and when he goes to adjust his collar, it gets stained.

The impeccable white square, symbol of devotion, of discipline, stained with blood. Your blood.

There’s something deeply metaphorical and insightful to be drawn from that, but your brain is too busy malfunctioning to process it.

Your breathing grows heavier, and you can't help the way your thighs press together.

This time, Sam notices.

"Is something wrong?" he asks, and it almost sounds genuine. But there's an edge to his voice, a sparkle in his eyes, that betrays he knows exactly what he's doing.

He keeps his composure, his serious face and benevolent attitude, but his fingers brush your inner thigh, and his smile is just a touch wicked.

It should make you want to run. Should make you scream for help. Should make you sick with flashbacks. Another perverted priest, another wolf in sheep’s clothing, another rotten apple. But instead, your legs part wider.

Corruption. Sin, dark and simmering. Lust, calling your name, burning like hellfire. Punishment, the good kind. Depravity. Profanation. Temptation. Blasphemy.

You’re not sure who kisses who—whether you tilt your head down or Sam leans forward—but his lips are soon engulfing yours. It’s violent, almost. Teeth clashing, tongues twisting. Carnal. Heretic.

Something fills your chest. A blaze, white and pure, that lights you up from the inside out. Edenic, sweet like the juice of Eve’s apple. Dizzying, like the poison of the snake.

I am kissing a priest. Oh, Alex is going to have a field day with this one.

Sam rises from the ground and leans over you, guiding you to slide deeper into the backseat of the car.

Once you're both inside, Sam breaks the kiss and turns to close the door. You lie back on the cold leather seat, eyes following his figure as he looms over you—so much bigger, imposing, intimidating. He blocks your only way out, and when he looks down at you, his eyes are full of vice.

“Look at you,” he whispers, his hands returning to your soft thighs. He slides them up slowly, carefully rucking up the dress. “So soft, darling.”

You shiver at his touch, licking your lower lip before biting down on it. You aren’t sure what to say, how to act.

Lust, the greatest sin of all. Sex, the doom of humanity. Arousal, something you couldn’t experience without the ghost of guilt tingling at the nape of your neck.

Taught to be virgin-pure. Tainted from birth.

Trained to feel shame in your pleasure. Learned to find pleasure in your shame.

“Don’t be shy, baby,” Sam whispers in your ear, his hands sliding to your waist beneath the flowy dress. “You want this, I can tell.”

Your back arches as his thumbs slip under the waistband of your panties, your breaths escaping in soft, shaky puffs.

You push away the voice—the one that echoes through your mind like a pastor’s sermon—preaching about chastity.

“I do,” you whisper, your hands gathering the hem of your dress and sliding it off your body, tossing it to the floor of the car. You lie there in lacy underwear, bare and exposed. The rosary still hangs around your neck, slithering down the valley of your breasts like a snake.

“Fuck me so hard it purifies me.”

Sam curses under his breath, eyes devouring you—like he’s imagining every way he could ruin you.

He quickly shrugs off his suit jacket, leaving him only in a black shirt and the blood-stained collar. When he goes to take it off, you stop him. 

“Leave it on.” You whisper, pulling him down until you’re chest to chest. 

“Okay, you little heathen.”

It’s only a few minutes—and an orgasm—later when Sam finally slides inside you. Raw. Depraved. Skin against skin. Unholy. 

“You’re dripping, baby.” Sam murmurs, moving his hips with reverence, making you throw your head back and moan. “Your sweet little cunt so tight around me, fuck.”

Sam is big, bigger than anyone else you’ve ever had. He fills you so deep it aches, stretching you open in a way that toes the line between pain and pleasure.

You're acutely aware of every sensation. The ache of the stretch. The sting of old scars brushing against the leather as you rock with every one of Sam’s thrusts. His nails digging into your thighs. His teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your neck—marking you as condemned. The rosary beads biting into your nape when he grabs hold and tugs, pulling you down onto his cock.

You relish the pain—all of it colliding and bursting inside your chest, transfiguring into pure, burning pleasure.

Pleasure. Pain. They’ve always felt like one and the same to you.

Your hands grip his shoulders, back arched, mouth open in ecstasy.

Sam’s thrusts are merciless. Relentless. Unforgiving. His slicked-back hair now falls over his forehead, teeth gritted, sleeves shoved up to his forearms.

When his hand drops the rosary and slides down—south, to where you need him most—something inside you explodes, a strangled moan tearing from your throat.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he whispers, rubbing slow circles on your clit as you come undone. “Fuck, you’re divine.”

Your peak is so high, you think you see paradise, your vision blanking out. It’s an all-consuming fire, wrapping around you, angelic and demonic all at once.

Then you feel Sam’s hips stutter, his warmth flooding you like holy water, filling you up completely.

You’re reborn. Burned to ash and pieced back together. It hurts, like crucifixion for your sins, but then Sam kisses you—soft, gentle—and you’re resurrected.

Washed clean. Ruined to the core.

Moments later, you lie on top of Sam in the cramped backseat. His chest is so broad, he barely fits, his legs tangled with yours. You slot against him like a missing puzzle piece, still boneless, fucked out. Stripped raw, drunk on sin.

Bruises mar your skin—on your neck, between your thighs. Little purple marks you’ll later press on, the ache both punishment and reward.

Sam’s fingers trail up and down your back, grazing the raised, silvery skin. He traces shapes over the crosshatched, uneven texture with such tenderness that it might bring tears to your eyes—if you weren’t so blissed out.

“Can I ask about these?” Sam’s voice is low, rumbling through his chest, sending a deep sense of peace through you. You nod against his collarbone, lips brushing lightly over the clerical collar. “How did you get them?”

“Self-flagellation,” you murmur after a long pause. Sam stiffens beneath you, his hand freezing on your back.

It makes you frown. You know some churches nowadays are a bit more “progressive,” but no priest would ever be shocked at the concept of corporal penance.

You raise your head, perching it on Sam’s chest and looking him in the eyes.

The setting sun filtered through the car window, washing him in warm light. His eyes, green with a rim of brown and just the shiniest golden flecks, wide and shiny, looking up at you like a kicked puppy.

He looked gorgeous, with his eyebrows furrowed and his hair messy. His golden skin glowy and his soft lips pursed. The kind of beauty you only see in stained glass. Tragic. Romantic. Sacrosanct. Godforsaken.

“You’re not a real priest.” It isn’t a question.

Sam’s mouth falls open, but he’s at a loss for words.

Then there's a knock on the window, and—

“Dude, you will never guess whose number I just—”

Yeah, definitely not priests.

It isn’t until you’ve slid back into your dress and you’re sitting on the sidewalk, because Dean would “not get into Baby right after you two profaned it, you little sinners” that Sam and Dean explain their job and what they are actually doing in Alex’s house.

Many things go through your mind. Things like “ghosts are real?” and “demons? Holy shit.” and “I just revealed my priest-kink to a non-priest, that is so embarrassing.”

But most importantly, you think about Sam’s gentle eyes on you, shining with just a bit too much affection for someone who he just met. About how his soothing touch could become so brutal when you needed it. How it had been him that whispered things like “you sweet, mourning lamb” and “let me sanctify you” and “you’re heaven-sent, baby. Made by Him just for me to ruin.”

And you wonder, as Dean rants to Sam about getting a motel room next time, if there’s any chance Sam could sneak you two into a church.

NOTES: this was pretty cathartic to write ngl. VERY self-indulgent but still. fuck the catholic church, guys. while i was writing i kept coming up with other priest/religious ideas and idk how to make myself stop. i might create a whole series of priest!sam at this point. anyway, hope you liked it!

TAGS: @littlesoulshine @mostlymarvelgirl @pink-ghost666 @h8aaz @otteropera @xoswiftieprincess @tinas111 @blossomingorchids @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @losers-clvb @pieandflannel<3

If you wanna be tagged in future works, let me know!!

[petrichoravis]

So professional. | s.r.

★ read PART TWO here.

summery: when the team finally has a break through in a case that seemed endless and you and Spencer are assigned to search an abandoned laboratory together, old feeling come to the surface.

word count: 7,3k (it got away from me, sorryyy)

what to expect: ex!spencer reid x fem!bau!reader, kinda like lovers to "enemies" to ??, a lot!! of banter, morgan calls r 'doll', 'princess' and 'sugar', criminal minds typical violence; torture, shooting, gunshot wound, parental/domestic abuse (abusive father/husband), hyporeflexia (the absence of reflexes), medical inaccuracies? I’m sure, English is not my first language.

a/n: aaaa this is so far out of my comfort zone!! I hope you’ll enjoy this while I’ll go into hiding🙈🙈

────── ⋆｡𖦹°‧

This case was endless until it wasn't. Until everything happened so quickly, all at once.

All of the victims had been burned to the point that the ME couldn't figure out the cause of death, until Eleven year old Amilie Porter was found on the side of the road by a passerby.

She had been cold and traumatised and wouldn't speak to anyone, so they brought her to the hospital, who alerted the police that then called you. The BAU.

Now, Spencer and JJ were crouching next to her hospital bed to seem less intimidating. Everything was going great, she wasn't speaking, but engaged in the conversation by nodding or shaking her head to their questions.

Until Amilie accidentally grabbed the mug of hot tea JJ handed her by the burning hot part, but instead of flinching she just held it there, as if it wasn't burning her fingers.

"Woah, hey hey hey!" Spencer took the cup from her before any more damage could be done. "Careful, that's still hot."

But his squeaked comment only made Amilie retreated into herself.

"Sorry, I'm—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Did—" he frowned, he wasn't been sure how to ask her what he wanted to ask, given that she was eleven and still in shock.

"Did you not feel how hot that was?" He asked gently.

Amilie only nodded.

"Yes, you didn't feel how hot it was?"

She shook her head.

"So…you felt it, but didn't pull back?" He was trying his best not to come across as too impatient, keeping his voice low and soft.

He went on as she agreed to the question, "Let me ask you this, Amilie. Did—did the bad man do this?"

When Amilie nodded her head in answer to his question, Spencer glanced up at JJ, nodding as well. He could tell Amilie was exhausted and needed rest, his questions were probably not helping much.

He didn't blame her for being unresponsive, what happened to her must have been enough to traumatise a person with a fully developed brain. He could only calculate what damage it had done and will do to her life.

JJ's voice brought him back into the glaringly white hospital room. "Thank you, Amilie, you helped us very much. We're going to call the nice nurse back in, okay?"

She took Amilie's turning away from them as a yes and they made their way to the reception desk. After they were sure that the nurse was on her way, they walked back to the car.

"What did you see?" She asked him as they walked out of the hospital, onto the parking lot. Sirens were coming from every direction, so they had to speak a little louder.

"Wait—can you drive? I'll call the team." Spencer said, already pulling out his phone and dialling the first contact.

Which, unfortunately, was you.

"Reid? What did she say?" Your voice was usually distant, as if you were scared that letting any emotion into you voice would break the dam.

He pressed a hand over his ear to hear you better.

You see, when you and Spencer got together, you had to promise Hotch that you would stay professional when you would break up. A great prophecy for the rest of your relationship, right? Having to talk about your hypothetical breakup on the first official day of your relationship.

Both of you really tried to stay professional, but working with an ex was hard enough, working with an ex you haven't really talked it out with was harder.

"I think he might be torturing the victims until they loose their reflexes." He clamped the phone between his ear and shoulder as he unlocked the car door, holding it open for JJ, handing her the keys and getting into the passenger seat after she was securely in the car.

"Hyporeflexia? Do you—wait let me put you on speaker." There was shuffling on the other side of the phone. "You have Hotch and I. Do you know how he does it?"

"No. I have theories, but nothing concrete. There are a few ways to accomplish the absence of reflexes, drugs like K779 or Leuprorelin, for example. But I doubt he is using a drug, it would have shown up on the toxicology report and the chances of these drugs causing Hyporeflexia are too slim."

"What's your guess?" Hotch piped up.

"Well I think he might be damaging their nervous system. You see, motor neutrons send messages between the spinal cord and brain. Collectively they send messages to the rest of your body to control muscle movements. It's possible that the UnSub is damaging the sensory nerves, spinal cord or motor nerves to cause hyporeflexia." He rambled off the facts and you could practically see the wild gesturing of his hands.

"How is the girl?" You asked.

"She's quiet, but in good hands," he reassured you. "She'll be okay in no time."

"Are you on your way back?" Hotch asked, crossing his arms.

"Yes. We're driving to you now."

"Drive safely." You said, purely for performance purposes.

"I'm not driving." He replied dryly.

"That's why it was meant for JJ."

"She always drives safely." You tried not to roll your eyes as Spencer just hung up.

Being professional when the person you used to plan your future with was now your worst enemy was hard. And while you might spite him a lot, you were sad about it more than you were angry.

But anger always came easier to you than admitting to yourself and him that the break up really hurt you, that you want nothing more than to be friends if you couldn't have him as a partner. You wanted to hold him in your arms again, to fall asleep to his heartbeat every night.

You couldn't tell anyone that, of course, your pride would be in shambles.

So you took a deep breath and turned back to Hotch.

── ⋆｡𖦹°‧

When Spencer and JJ got back to Quantico the team reassembled for the briefing. Everyone shared their thoughts and theories and Spencer explained what had happened at the hospital.

"Um…I know that there is a poison called curare, it's won from various plants and causes paralysis by binding to the acetylcholine receptor of the junction where two nerve cells dock together and therefore prevents nerve impulses from activating skeletal muscles. Could it be something like that?" You asked into the room.

Spencer was quiet for a moment and you're unsure whether he was impressed by your knowledge or just thinking really hard about the possibilities. "Well, we obviously can't tell because the bodies are burnt. But it's unlikely that he is using curare, given that Amilie wasn't paralysed, but developed Hyporeflexia."

Never mind, he was just thinking of a polite way to say, you're so far from the point, stupid.

"Right. So what do you think?" You almost added oh almighty! but were able to stop yourself. Because you're professional.

"As I already said," he gave you a look, "he is probably damaging the nervous system."

"Right, sorry. I meant, how is he doing that?" You had been able to sound so unfazed until this moment.

"I don't know," he frowned at you, as if his answer was obvious (you would like to state that it was not), "or I would have shared it already."

The team was nice enough not to comment on your little dispute, but it's clear that it was getting on their nerves. Especially Hotch, who was looking more stoic than usual, Morgan was finding it more amusing than anything.

"I'll get Garcia to search for similar occurrences in the area." You said quickly, already hurrying out of the room and away from the pending lecture.

Spencer watched you scurry off with a sinking feeling in his gut.

He didn't know why he bitt like a wounded dog every time the two of you spoke. He would like to think that it was because he just genuinely didn't like you anymore, but he knew that wasn't true. Hating you would be easier than this.

On the other side of the office, you ripped open door of Penelope Garcia's office and slammed it closed behind you, leaning back against it with a heavy sigh.

Penelope startled upright, turning her swivel chair to look at you with wide eyes. "Well, hello. Are you alright?"

"No," you whined dramatically. "All of this is so incredibly fucking fucked."

"Oh, love," she patted the place next to her. "He, who shall not be named again?"

You nodded, slumping into the chair. "He's just so—I just feel so…ugh. All we do is spite each other. When will this get easier?"

She looks at you with so much pity, you can't stand it. "I'm not going to tell you that it will pass with time, because, well…" She gave you a look that said nothing less than because you're quite dramatic, over the rim of her glasses.

While you huffed in response, you couldn't quite find a good argument that spoke against her unspoken statement, so your mouth stayed closed. But you didn't refrain from sending her a glare.

"What?" She asked innocently, if anything about Penelope Garcia can ever be called innocent.

You gave her a look. "Constructive criticism? Didn't we just talk about that?"

"I didn't even say anything! It's not my fault that you interpreted something into my very lovely face."

You decided that this was totally fruitless, your fault for thinking that you had a friend in her. "Can you look into past histories of people with hyporeflexia? Anything you can find. People who have been diagnosed with it in the past…let's say fifteen years, suspicious reports of it, someone being especially interested in it, maybe a lot of it happening in one area. You know the drill."

"Yep, totally, ma chère. One sec." She turned her chair towards the computer screen and began working her magic.

After what feels like three seconds—thank God for Penelope's speed on the keyboard and swift fingers—she piped up, "Hyporeflexia is quite a rare official diagnosis, so I cross referenced it with torture or unnatural causes and I found," a few more mouse clicks. "…a Theodore Wilson, who has been in and out of the hospital for severe burns and bruises a lot when he was young."

Frowning, you lean over Penelope's shoulder to look at the screen. "And that's relevant because…?"

"That, my gorgeous girl," she booped your nose with her fluffy pen and you scrunched your nose. "Is because they look suspiciously similar to our victims and…" She paused for dramatic effect. "Theodore's father was a biochemist best known for his research on Hyporeflexia."

You frown deepened. "Is his father still alive?"

A few clicks later, Penelope replied, "Nope." She popped the p. "He died last month, but Theo's mother still lives in Virginia."

"If we consider Theodore a suspect, his father's passing could have been the stressor. Thank you, Pen. Could you—"

"The address is sent to your phone." She smiled up at you as you got up and walked towards the door. "But don't think our talk about you-know-who is over!" She sing-songs just before you could leave.

You rolled your eyes. The nicknames were getting excessive.

"I can't hear you!" You called back just before closing the door behind you.

You froze when you turned and saw the team gathered in the bullpen area. "Um," you glanced at Spencer for just a millisecond to see how much he has heard, but his face seemed impassive. Looking back at your unit chief, you continued, "Penelope found a lead."

Hotch nodded for you to continue and you made your way closer to the group. Recognition flickered across Spencer's face at the name Don Wilson, but he said nothing as you continued to explain what Penelope found.

"Penelope send the address of his mother to me already." You said as you finished.

"Do you think he might be the first victim or the UnSub?" Hotch asked.

"Possibly both. That's what I'd like to find out by talking to the mother." You replied, taking the last steps towards the team.

Hotch nodded. "Morgan, you accompany her."

Great, just what you needed. Relentless teasing from Derek Morgan, fun!

The devil grinned. "Let's do this, doll."

── ⋆｡𖦹°‧

You ignored Morgan the whole drive.

No, seriously, you didn't say a word to him besides giving him the directions. Of course that only stroked the fire.

When you finally did arrive at the house of Theodore's mother, you felt like you had just taught a class of first graders.

Morgan was in the middle of something like, "—come on, we're all waiting to hear what happened between you and pretty boy—" when you got out of the car and slammed the door shut. You couldn't stand to listen to even one more second of it.

But of course he just continued after exiting the car, too. "That bad, huh?"

If you didn't know any better, you might have thought there was some pity in that comment. "It's fine. And also really none of your business."

"You and Reid are kind of making it everyones business, princess."

Rolling your eyes at his statement, you sped up your steps along the gravel path. The faster you got to the door, the faster Morgan had to get into work mode and could finally stop behaving like an assho—

The door opened unexpectedly.

"Oh," an elderly woman—she must have been in her late sixties—startled back at the sight of the both of you. She had shoulder length red-brown hair that was frizzy and clearly not washed for at least two weeks. Her hands were fiddling with a button of her worn down brown cardigan.

Undoubtedly the woman you saw on the picture on Penelope's computer.

You quickly pulled out your badge, animating Morgan to do so as well. "Mrs. Wilson? We're with the FBI. My apologies if we startled you."

"The FBI?" She frowned, clutching her cardigan tightly around herself like an armour. "Why would the FBI come to my house?"

"Ma'am, we have reason to believe that your son might be involved in the case we are investigating right now." You said carefully, not knowing how much she could handle before having a heart attack.

"What? No, that—that's ridiculous! He—he…" she seemed to have forgotten what she was saying, now studying the ground for dirt.

Morgan and you glanced at each other. This was going to be difficult.

"Ma'am?" Morgan tried again. "Could we come in?"

She frowned up at him. "Yes, yes, of course. How rude of me." She made a sound that could have been a laugh as much as it could have been a sob.

"Make yourselves at home, dears. Oh, my apologies it's a little messy." She hurried across the room, gathering scraps of fabric and dirty dishes.

"Uh," you weren't sure how to say this politely, but you were in a rush and sour mood.

Luckily, Morgan saved you from having to come up with something polite. "Mrs. Wilson, we'd like to ask you some questions about your son, Theodore, if that is alright with you?"

"Oh, Theo," he fingertips touched her lips and her eyes welled up a little. It was a nostalgia only a mother could feel. "We—we don't talk a lot anymore, now that he is at university."

You frowned. There had been no evidence of Theodore being at university. "What is he studying?"

The woman seemed frozen in her thoughts. "Physics. No, that's not right…Chemistry, yes. He is studying chemistry at Princeton. He told me that."

You gave Morgan a signal to fact check that with Penelope and he left the room, leaving you to talk to Mrs. Wilson alone.

"Did he always like chemistry?"

"Yes, yes. When he was young, he always used to…no, I think that was biology." She laughed almost hysterically. "Can't keep up with that boy. So many talents."

Bingo. Biochemistry. His father's influence, no doubt. And it fit the theory of Theodore taking on his father's murderous tendencies. Just a little more and you had him.

"Was there any particular niche he was particularly interested in?"

"Yes, but…but I don't remember. You see, Don, my husband—Theo's father, he would know. He—he was the one who always went to the laboratory with Theo."

Laboratory? You froze at the mention of a possible secondary location. Double bingo, a place to hide the victims and possibly burn them. A place where his father could have taught him his ways, pass the torture down like some families might pass down jewellery.

"This lab," you asked cautiously, not wanting to come across too pushy or desperate (which you very much were). "You don't happen to know where it is?"

"Oh, it's abandoned now, run down, I'm certain. They stopped going there after Don got sick…" she couldn't finish the sentence, her eyes fogging up with grief.

You doubted that he just stopped going, but she didn't need to know that. "Is it possible that you find out where it is located?"

She nodded, mumbling something about a postcard before disappearing into another room.

Morgan came back from the hallway.

"There is no record of him at Princeton. No pay checks, nothing." He whispered to you.

That was to be expected. You just nodded.

All of this left you with a horrible, nauseating feeling in the pit of your stomach. This woman had lost everything—her husband, her son, her sanity—but the hope she clung to was that her son was in university, building a life of his own, making a name for himself.

Now you were working on destroying that hope. It might ruin her entirely. Irrevocably.

She came back a second later, a postcard in her hands. "That's the address, I think." She held it out to you.

But as you went to grab it, fingers closing around it, she didn't let go, keeping a tight grip on it. Like a lifeline. Like a part of her knew, that if she let you have it, there was no going back to the normal she once knew.

"Mrs. Wilson…?" You tested carefully.

She startled. "Oh! I'm sorry." She let the paper go. "Here you go. I hope it helps with your…"

Her face creased up, thinking hard of a reason why two FBI agents could be in her house, asking for her perfect son who was studying chemistry in Princeton.

Morgan, ever the escape artist, waved politely, "You have been very helpful, Ma'am. We best be going then, have a nice day."

"Yes, yes, of course. You must be busy kids." But just as you stepped through the door, feet just hitting the gravel, she called after you. "Agents?"

Both of you turned. "Yes?" You asked politely.

"My son, when you visit him at Princeton, could—could you tell him I was sorry?"

"Of course, Ma'am." You let your voice trail off, hoping she would clarify what she was apologising for.

Mrs. Wilson leaned against the door with one hand, as if stabilising herself. "We had a fight, you see. The night before he left for Princeton. I never got to apologise to him."

You were tempted to ask what the fight was about, but you held back. It might be important for the case, but not enough to dig up the rotten bones. "Of course. We will tell him, Mrs."

"Thank you—thank you. Tell him I love him, too, would you be so kind?"

You nodded. "Of course."

Morgan and you walked away, then. Leaving the woman behind.

You didn't recall reaching the car, didn't recall Morgan unlocking it and even holding open the door for you to climb in. Too deep in the past, too caught up in the future.

The conversation with the mother affected you more than you'd like to admit. A fight could ruin so many relationships, it could make you go crazy, make you say things that caused you to drift further and further apart. Until you didn't know each other at all anymore, but you still clung to the past yous that you once were.

You only came to yourself when you felt the seat under you, when the engine started to hum.

"We had a fight." You mumbled as Morgan reversed out of the parking space.

"What?" He looked over at you shortly, confused. He couldn't recall having fought with you.

"Spencer and I. We fought. That's why we broke up."

Morgan felt a little like laughing. "You broke up because of a fight? Must have been one hell of a fight, then. The both of you were always so inseparable."

When you didn't laugh or react, Morgan glanced over at you again. You looked sad, in thought. With a big pout-slash-frown on your face, fingers fiddling with the sleeves if your button up.

"Hello? Earth to earthling?" He waved a hand in front of your face.

"Sorry." You glanced up at him. "I don't know why I brought it up, I don't like talking about it."

Bless him, Morgan's face softened a little. He wasn't heartless enough to keep teasing you when you clearly had a hard time. Well, okay, he had his moments.

"You don't have to talk about it."

"No, it's okay. We—We fought a lot, leading up to the break up. Silly things like the dishes, different opinions on different things.…The real issue was this job, though." You swallowed around the urge to bolt.

"The job?"

You nodded. "We brought it home with us, made it the centre piece of our relationship."

Morgan winced. It was the mistake every agent was afraid to make when entering a relationship.

"Yeah," you breathed out. "I know. But you know us, we work, that's just who we are."

"Workaholics." Morgan coughed to lighten the mood.

In any other situation you would have dug your elbow into his side, scowled at him. But not in this one.

"It got too much in the end. The fear, the paranoia. We just…snapped. We talked it out, funnily enough that conversation was quite calm. Though we were naive enough to think we could stay friends." You sniffed.

It surprised him, to find out you were struggling so much in the past months leading up to your break up. "You always seemed so happy at work. Everyone agreed when I said you two were meant for each other."

"Yeah, well, things that are meant for each other aren't always the right thing."

"Do you really believe that? Or are you scared that it won't work out if you tried again and you opened yourself up for nothing?" He lifted one hand from the wheel to put air quotes around the word nothing.

You glared at his side profile. "Okay, Mr. Therapist."

"What?" He looked at you again, before focusing back on the road. "I'm just saying. Reid is so far gone for you, opening up to him would never be for nothing. If you want it to work you have to work for it."

"Since when are you an expert on relationships, Derek 'has a new girl every week' Morgan." You rolled your eyes. But you couldn't deny that his words stirred something inside you.

"Okay, you're just being mean now, sugar. I'm incredibly wise." He pretended to push glasses up his nose.

That got a laugh out of you. A real, stomach ache inducing laugh. Maybe you were hysterical now, too.

Morgan smiled at that. He was glad to hear that sound again, after months filled with frown lines and sharp tones.

After you calmed down, you got back into work mode, calling the team and telling them what you had discovered. You told Penelope to check the address and she confirmed that it was an abandoned laboratory.

Now everything happened quickly. Hotch ordered you to drive to the lab and wait for the team, to be on alert for anyone entering or leaving the building, but not to—under any circumstances—enter or separate from each other.

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Not even twenty minutes later, you and Morgan arrived at the laboratory and prepared by putting on your vests and checking your guns.

The other black SUVs lined up in front of the main entrance shortly after.

You caught Spencer's eyes as he got out of the car. He scanned you from head to toe for injuries. When he found none, the concern on his face melted away quickly enough for you to consider you had imagined it.

"No one has entered or left the front door in the time we were here." You said when the team reassembled.

Hotch nodded. "Morgan, you and Prentiss go in from behind and search the lower level. JJ, Rossi and I search the second floor."

"But that means—" Spencer started to protest but Hotch has already pointed at you.

"You and Reid, go to the upper level."

Because you were so focused on the case (totally not because you want to show Hotch you could be more professional than Spencer), you just nodded.

"Good. Let us not waste time we don't have." Hotch frowns and everyone goes their separate ways.

Spencer glanced at you and you glanced at him. This was the first time you had been alone together since the break up and you were both unsure what to do with each other.

"Is your vest secure?" Spencer asked after a short awkward pause. He took a step closer and you try your best not to flinch back. Professional, you remind yourself like a mantra.

"Yes." You retort steadily enough, but he was already reaching out to tug on the straps.

You frowned at the display of worry, but decided on letting him have his moment. Purely to save energy, of course.

"Fine, let's go up." He said as he was satisfied with your vest. Together you made your way up the stairwell onto the upper level.

As you sneaked through the eerily quiet lab, the only sound heard was the clacking of your heeled boots on the resin floor.

Spencer glared at you. "Couldn't have worn a worse shoe for this, could you?" He whispered.

"I could've hardly worn my crocks." You snapped back. "Focus."

Both of your guns were trained around the corners as you carefully assed the situation. So far there was nothing that seemed too out of the ordinary for an abandoned laboratory. Broken glass, dusty workstations, pipes…Nothing to accompany you and Spencer but silence.

Until a shot rang out. And you wince.

The bullet just barely grazed your upper arm but it was enough to make a crimson blotch bloom on your white button up.

Spencer pulled you behind a corner before you could get hurt even worse and presses his hand over your wound.

He wrapped a hand around your wrist to hold your arm still and assessed your arm. "Does it hurt badly?"

"It's fine. Focus on the UnSub." You scowled, pushing against his shoulders with your free hand. Spencer didn't budge. "Reid, I'm so serious—"

"No, I'm serious," he said your name sternly. "Answer my ques—"

Another shot rang out before he could finish repeating himself, but it thankfully didn't hit anyone.

You gave him a look that says see? I fucking told you so. and pushed him away to glance around the corner to fire some shots at the guy.

"The suspect is in the upper level." You said into the microphone. "He's wearing a black bomber. Brown hair. I can't tell much. He's armed and shooting." You listed off.

"Copy that." Answered JJ's voice back to you.

"Get," Spencer grumbled, "behind the wall."

"You almost sound worried." You grinned and taunted him by doing the direct opposite of his command, leaning further around the corner.

"That's because I am. It doesn't look great on my report if I just let you die." He bitt out, pulling you back by your wrist that he still hasn't let go of.

Unfortunately, he ended up slamming your back against the wall in the process.

You made a noise that could only be described as a grunt. "Oh, and manhandling does?"

Both of you were now pressed against the wall, with Spencer's arms caging you in so you couldn't make a run for it and do something even more reckless.

"I'll just put it down as keeping you from sabotaging the mission." He was panting, and for a moment the thought of just how attractive he was crossed your mind. Until you shook it off.

Just as you opened your mouth to taunt him some more, you ear piece crackles and Hotch's voice was heard saying yours and Spencer's names, "—what is your position?"

"We're still—fuck!" Another shot rang out before you could finish the sentence, hitting a pipe on the opposing wall and causing you to flinch. Steam hissed from the hole. Spencer shushed you and you were tempted to snap at him, but you lowered your voice instead. Staying quiet was in your best interest, to make the shooter believe you were hit and the danger passed.

"Still on the third floor. He's got us cornered." You continued quietly.

And because Spencer just couldn't leave it at that, he added into the mic, "She's hurt, we will need an ambulance when we're out of here."

Glaring, you retorted, "I'm fine, a bullet just grazed my arm."

"It's still important to get it checked out!" Spencer replied in a harsh whisper. He was really pushing your buttons now.

"We're on our way up. Try to get him into the stairwell." Is the only response you get from Hotch.

You breathe out. "Okay, let's try to get to the stairwell."

Spencer nods, gesturing for you to take the lead and finally stepped back to free you from the cage of his arms. (And the suffocating urge to kiss him.)

With your gun stretched out in front of of you, you carefully take step after step along the eerily quiet hallway.

"You go right," Spencer murmured, "I'll take the left."

"What? No—" But it was an impossible task, stopping Spencer Reid once he was set on doing something. He had already disappeared into another hallway.

"Does he learn nothing from his mistakes?" You mumbled to yourself, but do as he demanded nonetheless.

You placed one foot in front of the other with caution, rounding the corners not before listening into the silence.

Suddenly there was a noise. You didn't know if it was Spencer, your imagination or the UnSub, but all of your body was braced for battle.

Taking a deep breath, you rounded the corner. The hallway ended with a wall adorned with two doors. One lead to the stairwell, spiralling down into the second floor.

The other door was open. It looked like a lab to you, but you didn't have a good enough angle to see what was inside. The walls specked with dust and grime, mold forming in the crevices.

You caught movement in the room and walked slowly towards it. You had a half formed though to signal to Spencer through the mic, but before you could execute it, you had already entered the room.

A man stood with his back to you at one of the work stations. You took another step towards him, but your boot crushed a shard of glass under its heel. You froze.

Theodore spun around in panic, picking his gun up from the counter. "You—You should be—I shot you."

You breathed in deep to steady your voice. Theo's choice of words struck a match of hope in you. Maybe he didn't know that Spencer and the rest of the team were in the building, too. Maybe he just saw you.

"The bullet graced my arm." You confirmed, taking a step closer to him.

"Get back. Get back!" He screamed, forcing you to walk deeper into the room with his gun, so his back was to the door. "If you shoot, I'll go down pressing the trigger and you will go down, too."

His hand was shaking around the gun, he looked like he might drop it every moment. The room was dark, just a little sliver of light coming through the small window.

You watched it flicker and tried to come up with something to say, but your brain blanked on the profile.

Being a profiler had taught you a lot, but in this moment all you could focus on was that Spencer was somewhere in this building and you had no idea if he was safe.

"Theo, I know what your father did to you, how he would train you to take every hit without flinching, the burning." You said carefully.

"Don't—don't talk about my father like you know anything! Because you don't—you don't know anything!Lower you gun!" He spit out.

Just as you were trying to find a way to tell him that there was no way you would lower your gun, you saw Spencer through the doorframe behind Theo, gun pointed at him, too. You tried not to look at him as you continued.

"I won't shoot if you don't give me a reason to, Theo. I—I talked to your mother." You tried in a last desperate attempt to deescalate the situation.

That seemed to get his attention, he lowered his gun a little, before taking a step closer to you pointing it at you again. "Leave my mother out of this." He growled.

You continued anyway. "She told me that she was sorry, about your fight before you left. She is so, so proud of you, Theo. Told me to tell you that she loves you. Nothing could make her stay mad at you forever, she just wants you in her life again." You tried not to look at Spencer as you spoke the words to Theo that were really meant for him.

Tears formed in Theo's eyes. A sight that you had seen just forty minutes earlier, in his mother's. "Stop! It doesn't matter if she's proud. I lied to her! I lied."

"Of course it matters, if you put the weapon down and come back with us to the station, you could see her again. You could be her son again."

His laugh is hollow as he said, "Do you think I'm stupid? You're trying to get me to surrender. What do you called it? A talk down? Making false promises just to get me locked up. You never end up keeping them." His grip on the trigger tightened.

Another thing you learned as a profiler was not to get attached to victims or UnSubs. And while most of the team had failed at that, you had always considered yourself lucky—or heartless, for that matter.

But as you watched the pain on Theo's face, you understood. Maybe not everything he did, but you understood the cause. Understood that all of his life was set up for him to end here, in this lab, two guns pointed at him.

Behind him, Spencer nodded towards the stairs and you tried to signal to him that you didn't understand without exposing his location. He just gestured towards them again, frowning at you to just do as he said.

He took a few steps deeper into the room to clear the doorway, somehow managing not to get caught by Theo. It was a gamble he gladly took if it meant you were safe. "Theo, you don't have to do this."

Spencer's voice startled Theo and for a second you were terrified that he was going to shoot. But instead, he just turned around quickly, panicked pointing the gun at Spencer.

Your moment to run. Just to get help and come back to him. You sprinted out of the room, past Theo and Spencer. Theo shouted "No!" but it was too late, you were already half down the stairs.

You silently begged Spencer to hold on for a little longer. But just as you practically jumped of the last step in a hurry, you heard a gunshot.

Freezing on the bottom of the steps for the fraction of a second, you tried not to panic, but just as you turned to sprint back up the stairs, an arm wrapped around your middle, the other covering your mouth.

"Shh," came Rossi's voice from behind you. You struggled as he dragged you out of the building.

Fresh air hit your face as you were forced to exit, but all you could think about was the fact that Spencer's dead body might be lying on the third level of an abandoned laboratory.

You tried to pull back from him but he wouldn't let you. "No—Spencer. Spence is still—Spencer!" You struggled against his grip.

"You can't go back in there—" Rossi said your name. "The kid is smart, you know that. He—"

Before he could finish, there was another gunshot, this one closer. You almost sank to your knees as everyone around you prepared to take down the UnSub.

And were rebuild when Spencer emerged from the building a few seconds later, hands raised, "Don't shoot, he is injured, but breathing." He gestured behind him somewhere.

Rossi finally let you go when Spencer was far enough away from danger.

Not wasting a minute, you ran towards Spencer, almost crashing into him in the process.

Emily, JJ and an EMT passed you in a blur as they went into the laboratory to secure Theo. You barely registered them.

"What happened?" You didn't know whether to push him or to kiss him. You opted for the first, pushing against his shoulders. "Why would you tell me to leave? I—We had it handled. Together. I—I—You fucking scared me."

Spencer just pulled you to him by your good arm and wrapped you in a tight embrace. He didn't say anything for a while, just letting you process your feelings.

The fear of loosing Spencer for good, the pain of the break up, the conflicting feelings of having to work with your ex (that you're still very much in love with). You clung to him as your emotions overtake you. And, fuck, your arm hurt!

"Shh, it's okay. I'm okay. Here—" he pulled back with some difficulty, given that you had quite a firm grip on him, and took your hand in his, placing it on the side of his neck. "Can you feel that? I'm okay."

You nodded. "You're okay." You breathed out, looking from your hand on his pulse point, to his eyes. "Why would you do that?" Tears pricked at your eyes.

"I didn't think rationally. All I could think about was that there was a gun pointed at you and all my brain would come up with was stupid ideas to make him point it at me. Please forgive me."

He looked at you with his big, sad, brown puppy eyes, while his thumb brushed softly against the skin under your eye to catch your tears before they could fall.

You would have said something flirty like, you might have to make it up to me some more, if you weren't so terribly mad at him. "Maybe. I can't promise anything."

He smiled softly despite your answer. Maybe even because of it. It was a silly thought, you not forgiving him. "I can work with maybe."

An EMT whisked you away shortly after, but Spencer's hand stayed in yours until they slipped apart and his arm fell to his side.

He wasn't sure if he could just follow, he stayed away and watched you get checked out by the EMTs.

All of it—the story of you and him—reminded him of Cassandra witnessing the fall of Troy. It was stupid to compare two people who were so insignificant to history to two of histories most known tragedies, but it fit like he still did into the palm of your hand.

He had known that he would never be able to get over you. No one had believed him, telling him that time heals all wounds and that he couldn’t see the bigger picture yet, because he was still in it.

But he had known, and it still rang true. You were it for him and he would never find anyone that made him feel more like himself. It was foolish to think he could survive the break up, foolish to think he would get over it.

Hell, he had taken being on the receiving end of your spite over being your friend because it meant you'd look at him and feel something.

Taking all of his courage together, Spencer decided to approach you after the EMT finished patching you up.

"Hey," he said gently. This was the first time you talked without snarling at each other outside of work since the break up and it felt like finally breathing fresh air again after living purely off of carbon dioxide. "Doing good? How is your arm?"

You looked up at him from the steps on the back of the ambulance. You looked rough, exhausted. The sleeves of your shirt were rolled up to allow the EMT to bandage your wound.

It felt different now, talking to you. The moment of adrenaline had passed and he had no idea how to talk to you. The times of snarling seemed to be over, but the ones of kissing and I love you's were long gone, too.

"I'm okay. All patched up. I don't think I will ever take my reflexes for granted ever again." You tried to smile, but it didn't reach your eyes. "How are you?"

He wanted to deflect, to twist it back to you, but he humoured you. "Exhausted, but I'm good. I'm just glad you're safe."

What he actually wanted to say was: I love you, I'm glad you're speaking to me again. Let's never split up again. Please. And: I miss you, I don't know what to do with myself. I feel like everyone is running laps around me for the first time in my life.

Of course, he said none of it, this wasn't the time to dig that hole. Instead he just looked at you.

The blue of the sirens flickered on your face and even though you looked exhausted, he could't help but think you were the most beautiful thing Mother Earth has sculpted. The Grand Canyon was nothing in comparison to the frown lines on your face, the stars nothing compared to your freckles and birthmarks.

You looked back at him then, but thankfully didn't question the look on his face that without a doubt read, I love you.

Instead, you rested your head on his shoulder in a silent, I love you, too.

There was so much to talk about, so much to tell him, but when he insisted on taking you home, because he wouldn't let you drive home alone after the events of today, all you cared about was that he was there again. Fully. Without snapping, without pretend hate. Just the old you and the old him again.

You fell into your bed that night, the glaring blue light of your digital clock telling you that it was 3am. Earlier than a lot of other late nights at the BAU.

Spencer didn't hesitate to take off your work clothes, didn't ask where your pyjamas were, didn't stop to think what this all meant for you now. He didn't need to, all of this was an Obvious.

You didn't tell him to lay down next to you, to climb under the covers and flip the light off, to let you rest your head on his chest. He just did all of it. Because it was a routine, the known in all the unknown that was your relationship now. A Constant.

In the morning, you would talk about it. While he was changing your bandage with careful fingers. But right now, the sound of Spencer's heart beating your name lulled you to sleep.

In the end, fear and worry had been the best matchmakers.

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PART TWO

thank you so much for reading! please remember reblogging, commenting and liking if you enjoyed the fic. feedback is appreciated!! 𝜗𝜚