#the problem with him is mostly that it's hard to catch his attention | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bcksbarnes · 2 months ago

Text

hearts on fire

pairing: au!bucky barnes x avenger!reader

summary: in an alternate universe, bucky never falls to his death and instead is with steve rogers when the plane crashes to destroy hydra's base. decades later they are found and bucky is an original member of the avengers. his only problem besides adjusting to the new century? he can't help but mercilessly flirt with his teammate.

word count: 2.7K

a/n: based on this request!

Living in close quarters with your co-workers everyday would be most people’s idea of hell. For you? It was a part of the job, a requirement really. Luckily, the compound was spacious enough where most days you could get some peace and quiet, but on mission days … it was usually quite the shit show.

You were sitting in the lounge, it was your hideaway. There was something about it that made you feel at ease. Maybe it was the way your body sunk into the dark brown leather couch after a long night or the way the fireplace was always on, illuminating the dark grey walls. Regardless, it was your haven.

“You’re needed,” a voice calls out to you, interrupting your peace and quiet.

Your head looks up from the book you’re reading to catch the eye of Bucky Barnes, your teammate and the permanent pain in your ass.

He’s leaning against the entrance to the room, his arms crossed over his broad chest, a smirk on his features as he watches you. There always seemed to be a fire in his eyes that only ignited when he looked at you.

“By who?” you ask, placing the bookmark in the page before letting the cover fall close.

“By me,” he responds back, sending you a wink.

You can’t help but roll your eyes in response, that was his usual move with you, flirting relentlessly to see you get all flustered. He may have missed decades of his life frozen in ice, but it was actually quite remarkable how good he still was at it.

Standing from the couch, you take a few steps forward towards him, Bucky’s eyes never straying from you as you do. Actually, it only makes him stand straighter, flexing his arm muscles hoping to impress you. The veins popping on either arm, his shirt sleeves rising a bit from the tension. Bucky loved the attention.

“For what, Barnes?”

He hummed in response, licking his bottom lip as his mind filled with all the ways that he really could use your help. You playfully shove his shoulder when you realize that’s what he’s thinking about.

“I didn’t even say anything,” he protests.

“You didn’t have to. I know what goes on in that big head of yours,” you tease.

Bucky’s laugh fills the air, his eyes crinkling at the edges that make you melt a bit on the inside. As much as you hated to admit it, you did have a bit of a crush on Bucky, though you tried to keep your work separate from your personal life. Even if living in the tower tended to muddle that line.

“Jerk,” he mutters. “Okay, seriously … Steve’s calling a meeting in the briefing room. Asked me if I’d come get you.”

“Let me guess, you couldn’t say no, could you?”

“And miss out on such a beautiful sight?” His eyes wander over you again before settling on your gaze. “Absolutely not.”

You do everything you can to stop the blush from sinking into your cheeks, your face suddenly hot. When you can't, you dip your head down and brush past Bucky, your shoulder accidentally colliding with his as you make your swift exit.

There’s a haze around you as you make your way down the hallway, the grey walls blurred, trying to ignore the way your body feels after that conversation. Both full of want and completely confused; that seemed to be normal when talking to him. Bucky had a way of getting under your skin that was hard to ignore, especially with that stupid smile of his.

It takes a moment but he follows after you, the sound of his footsteps against the tile floor as he keeps his eyes trained on your back. You were too good of a sight to let go of.

The briefing room is mostly full by the time you arrive. The team had picked a random office to hold as the formal briefing space, boxes still scattered around as the team tried to make it feel less like a boardroom and more of a place where important world-saving-issues were discussed.

Bruce is sitting in the corner, his glasses low on his nose as he types on his computer, Tony and Steve arguing at the front of the room, Clint muttering something to Natasha - whose arms are crossed over her chest and her eyebrows seem to raise as you and Bucky enter the room only seconds apart.

“Shut up,” you mumble to her as you take a seat next to her.

“I didn’t say anything.” Her voice is quiet and oozing with sarcasm, the smirk on her lips enough to make you want to roll your eyes, but you control yourself.

“He just came to find me. That’s all.”

Natasha hums in response, turning to watch the man that followed you.

Bucky sits away from you, which is a blessing in disguise because the last thing you needed was a distraction. These missions were important and you didn’t need Bucky making googly eyes at you the entire time to undermine your need to understand the assignment.

“He’s staring, you know,” Nat says, her head now looking straight ahead at Tony and Steve who were getting more and more into it.

“I don’t care.”

“You’re a bad liar,” Nat calls you out before continuing. “Besides, what’s the harm? He’s cute.”

You swallow at her words, obviously he was cute, but you didn’t have time for that right now. Not when the Avengers initiative was still so new, not when there were so many threats in the world.

“He follows me around like a lost dog, like he’s waiting for me to look in his direction,” you reply, though you’re not entirely convinced that’s the reason you won’t give him the time of day.

“Oh poor you. Handsome super soldier who would do anything for you, it must be super hard.”

Before you can respond, Tony claps his hands together to start the meeting.

You kept your attention ahead, although you did find yourself sneaking a few glances at Bucky a few times. When he was paying close attention his jaw would flex and his fingers would drum on the table. You never realized how long his fingers were –

Focus.

The briefing was quick but thorough. There’s a small group of ex-SHIELD members who have been robbing high level tech out of ammunition depots around the country, they strike late into the night and leave no traces behind. The whole team, minus Bruce and Thor, would be stationed at what is assumed to be the next, and final, depot waiting to ambush the group.

Sounded easy enough.

The artillery room was always the last place the team stopped at before making their way to the quinjet, it was where all the gear needed for the mission was stored; behind locked cabinets and drawers with combinations.

Not everyone was Tony Stark and had their suit in the palm of their hands.

Zipping up your vest, you make a mental note of everything you had on you and what you still needed to grab, mumbling under your breath as you try to remember.

“Gun, knife, ammo …” you repeat to yourself, nodding your head along with your words.

“Wanna make a bet?”

Bucky’s voice breaks through your checklist causing you to look over at him, watching as tightens his utility belt around his waist. You can’t say you’re not intrigued at both the sight and his offer.

“Depends,” you grab the gun in front of you, inspecting it. “What’s the bet?”

“If we can neutralize this group in less than an hour, you’ll finally let me take you out.”

The words come out of him so easily that you’re taken aback. Your hand freezes on the gun for a half second but you try to quickly recover, not wanting to show him how his words affect you. Your eyes stay locked ahead, though you can see him smirking down at you in the corner of your eye.

“And if we don’t?”

He considers your words as he loads his utility belt, grabbing his signature switchblade and opening and closing it absentmindedly as he tries to think of a good enough counter to his side of the bet.

“If we don’t … then I’ll let you pick my training out for the next month.”

“Two months.”

“Deal.”

You load your gun into your own utility belt before turning towards Bucky, your hand shutting the locker door in one swift movement. He towers over you in a way that makes your head dizzy and your pulse race. You hate how that shit eating grin on his face is purposeful.

“Hope your super soldier stamina can keep up for when I win.”

Bucky chuckles as he flips the knife in his hand, the metal blade twinkling in the dim light in the room as it closes shut mid-air so he can safely catch it and place it in his utility belt. Leaning down, his lips right next to your ear.

“Make sure you’re ready at six, I have somewhere special in mind for us,” he whispers.

He bumps past you the same way you did on the way to the briefing and it leaves you stunned into silence. You’re almost positive there’s a spark of electricity that goes through your body.

Sure, he was a flirt and always had been when it came to you, as if it was just in his nature - but it seemed like he had picked up more steam recently. Like he couldn’t help himself.

You take a deep breath. You needed to focus. You couldn’t be this flustered.

Turning on your heels you follow Bucky and the rest of the crew onto the jet. It would take just under two hours to get to the location. Enough time to get you into the zone and focused on the mission at hand.

Not on Bucky.

Not on the way that he kept talking to Clint but making eyes over at you.

Not on how you were almost positive you heard him say your name.

Absolutely not. It was time to get shit done.

The depot was a giant warehouse in the middle of nowhere, hidden by a deep forest, which meant that most people wouldn’t stumble upon it unless they were looking for it.

Inside were crates of weapons, tech, plans - basically anything you could think of that would help build an empire - stacked as high as the eye could see. It was slightly cold and damp, but temperature never affected the way the Avengers worked. And for you? It helped cool you down since all you could think about was Bucky’s lips next to your ears

Steve was stationed with his shield in the front of the building, Tony surrounded the perimeter from above which left Nat, Clint, Bucky and yourself all patrolling some area of the warehouse. Sprawled out to cover more area.

You kept your hand on your belt as you waited to hear any clearance from the team. When you looked to your right you could see Bucky at the other end of the room, his finger tapping his watch.

The timer had started.

And judging from the disgruntled sounds of Steve and Tony ringing in your earpiece.

So had the fight.

Truthfully, when the brief was read you didn’t think it would take longer than an hour, but you were shocked by how fast the team was able to dismantle the group. Thirty seven minutes and twenty five seconds according to Bucky’s timer, which he made sure to promptly show you the moment the team stepped back onto the jet.

He was breathing heavily, covered in a thin layer of sweat as he beelined his way over to you, his chest rapidly rising and falling. It was distracting how good he looked as if the world seemed to zero in on him for a moment.

Bucky ran his fingers through his hair, it was short but somehow still tidy despite the mess everyone was caught in. His face was clean shaven and a bead ran down the side of his face, almost as if to mock you.

“Told you,” he muttered, elbowing you playfully.

“Damn, I was really looking forward to torturing you too.”

There’s that twinkle in his eye again when he looks at you, one that makes you feel like maybe the galaxy was created there.

“I know the idea of staring at me shirtless and sweaty is tempting, but I won.”

“Remember what I said earlier today about you having a big head?” you tease.

“I remember everything you say,” he replies, as if it’s the most normal statement he could make.

You decide to ignore him and take a seat, grabbing a water bottle for the both of you as you do. Handing it over, your fingers brush lightly but enough that the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Quickly, you uncap the bottle and down the contents inside, trying not to pay close attention to how close the two of you were when seated; the way your thighs are touching, or how, you could hear him gulping down the water.

The rest of the flight was quiet, it was early in the morning. The windows showed the beginnings of a light blue sky, sprinkled in with some dark purples from the fading night.

All you could think about was sleep. And this date that Bucky had won fair and square, but sleep first.

The exhaustion was seeping into your bones, your eyes could barely stay open as the adrenaline started to fade. Bucky was absentmindedly playing with a strand on his vest, his mind working in overdrive as if he was nervous - which he rarely, if ever, was.

“Cat got your tongue, Barnes?”

“You’ve got my heart, is that the same thing?”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” you mutter, shaking your head. “Do you happen to flirt as often as you breathe?”

“I can’t help it,” he holds his hands up in defense, though it’s clear he doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong … which he really hasn’t. “You intrigue me.”

Your eyes are still heavy as you look up at him, drooping slightly as you let out a yawn, but you won’t deny that it feels good to be wanted, even if it was a game of cat and mouse most of the time. Though now you’d have to admit to Nat that you accepted this date and that she was, ultimately, correct.

“How so?”

Bucky searches your features for a moment, biting down on his bottom lip as if he was deep in thought. And he was, about you. About all the ways he wanted to get to know you. About all the ways you make him feel like he’s floating on air.

He had a new profound look on life since being found in the ice, he wasn’t going to let time slip past him again.

“I don’t know …” his voice is delicate as he speaks. “Something about those eyes.”

The blush that you so desperately tried to resist all day creeps its way back onto your features. There’s a need in the air to say something - anything , but the jet is lowering and you know you’re almost back at the tower.

Sleep is finally within reach.

“Mmm,” you half moan, half hum as you stand, stretching your back out. “These eyes have to go to sleep.”

The jet docks and the ramp opens allowing you to finally allow the crew to disembark. Bucky watches you carefully, making sure you’re okay as you begin to follow the crowd.

“Sweet dreams,” he calls out, still sitting in the seat you left him in. “Maybe you’ll see me there.”

You don’t look back, but your heart beats a bit faster with each passing second as you make your way back to your room. A quick shower and change is over in a blink of an eye, settling down into the bed to sleep soundly.

You do, in fact, dream of Bucky.

You thought about him before your eyes were even closed.

You would think about him again when you woke later that afternoon; waiting patiently for six o’clock to come.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #might turn this into a series?? pending how everyone likes it #a little late friday night fic #enjoy!#100 #200 #500

952 notes · View notes

kysstar · 21 days ago

Text

R U MINE? | JUNG WOOYOUNG

pairing : : jung wooyoung x fem!reader

synopsis : : wooyoung’s always been obsessed with you — but he hides it behind cocky jokes and teasing. when he finds out someone else has been trying to take his place, his playful act crumbles into something a lot more possessive.

genre : : best friends to lovers

warnings : : alcohol, kissing

word count : : 0.6k

[ series masterlist ]

—He’s always been like this. Touchy. Loud. In your space like it’s his own. Wooyoung doesn’t ask to touch you — his arm just ends up slung across your shoulders, his legs tangled with yours on the couch, his fingers threading through your hair when you’re talking to someone else, and he decides he’s bored. He gets away with it because he always has. You let him, mostly because it’s easier than pretending you don’t like the way his attention makes your skin hum.

He’s got a thing for claiming space — your space, specifically. Always in your seat, drinking from your cup, pulling you into his lap when the room’s too full and pretending it’s casual. Everyone assumes you’re together. You’re not. Not technically. But he doesn’t correct them. Neither do you.

And when someone else gets too close — too friendly — he’s right there.

“You good?” he’ll ask, all false innocence, eyes locked on yours while his hand slides around your waist. Sometimes he doesn’t say anything at all — just appears beside you, mouth at your ear, fingers resting on your hip. You’ve never told him to stop. You don’t think you could if you tried.

You’re leaning against the counter, drink in hand, talking to some guy whose name you didn’t bother to catch. He’s tall, kind of charming in that background-noise way, saying something dumb that makes you laugh — not because it’s funny, but because the alcohol’s warm in your chest and it feels good to be entertained.

Then Wooyoung appears.

You don’t see him come in — you feel him, like a storm behind your shoulder. His hand slides around your waist with zero hesitation, pulling you back just enough that your hip bumps into his. The other guy stiffens, clocks the shift immediately. You barely have time to react before Wooyoung leans in.

“Come here,” he mutters, voice low and tight.

He doesn’t wait for your answer. His hand finds your wrist, and suddenly you’re being dragged through the crowd, out of the kitchen and down the hallway like it’s his party, like you came with him. You pull back once you’re out of earshot, shoving him back with your free hand.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you snap.

Wooyoung doesn’t answer right away. He’s staring at you like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Like he’s two seconds away from either kissing you or breaking something.

“You looked real cozy back there,” he says, words sharp, bitter.

Your eyes narrow. “So?”

“So?” He laughs once, humorless. “You don’t get to look at him like that.”

You cross your arms, heart thudding. “Why do you care?”

“Because I do!” he shouts, stepping closer, breath hot. “Because I fucking care, and I’ve been pretending I don’t, trying to be cool, trying to play it like it’s just fun and games and parties and whatever — but it’s not. Not to me.”

He’s pacing again, frantic. “Every time I see you with someone else, I feel like I’m losing it. I don’t want to just hook up with you. I don’t want to share you. I want you to be mine. I want—”

You don’t wait. You lunge forward, fist in his shirt, and crush your mouth to his mid-sentence.

He groans into it, like he’s been holding it in for weeks, hands flying to your waist like muscle memory. You back him into the wall, both of you breathing hard between kisses, teeth clashing, your fingers twisted in his hair like this is the only way you’ll both shut up.

When you finally break the kiss, chests heaving, foreheads pressed together, he’s smiling. That smirk — lazy, infuriating, too confident for someone who just poured his guts out.

“So…” he says, cocking a brow. “Are you mine?”

#𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #ateez #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung #wooyoung #jung wooyoung oneshot #wooyoung oneshot #wooyoung ateez #jung wooyoung ateez #ateez x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung fanfic #jung wooyoung fanfic

714 notes · View notes

sweetiechenle · 1 month ago

Text

reading between the lines ✦ jeno

pairing: collegestudent!literatureprodigy!jeno x afab!collegestudent!scienceandmathgenius!reader

summary: jeno was the biggest problem you've ever had to solve, but for him you weren't quite an open book either.

w.c: 9.4k

warnings: mdni 18+, MATH, i did so much research i feel like i need to cite my sources, thank you quizlet, angst, hurt and comfort, frenemies to lovers, fluff, jeno and y/n argue a lot and yell at each other, teasing, misunderstandings, YEARNING, kissing, make-ups and confessions, plot WITH porn, love making very intimate, hard with feelings and refuse to listen to each other, unprotected sex (i better not catch y'all doing this), praising, crying, begging, groveling, pet names (baby), oral (f receiving), creampie (YUM), softdomtop!jeno (just as god intended), crack/humor, scientific talk because smart (i never took bio in college), if i forgot anything pls lmk. reblogs and feedback appreciated ♡ fiction ≠ reality. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JENO!!!

‘WHAT’ you gasped, not noticing you had barked it out until everyone turned around and glared at you.

‘i’m sorry?...’ your professor had stopped everyone to bring attention back, she gave you a quizzical look, ‘is there a problem?’

you shook your head, still surprised by your sudden outburst, ‘n-no, i apologize’ you hung your head in shame, red blooming on your cheeks from embarrassment. you had been dreading today, your world literature 1 professor had told you all a week ago that you would be paired up with a partner for your first project. your major in biology and minor in actuarial mathematics required some literature classes to help with ‘scientific writing and understanding’ as your advisor put it. so you figured world literature 1 was the easiest choice, it turned out to actually be hell on earth. your weakest subject was english and literature, you were never a reader growing up unless it was about different sciences, but you always opted for documentaries and videos than reading. growing up, you’d always dread english class, anxiously waiting for whatever science and math class you could have next.

when you tell people that your favorite subject is math and then science they would laugh and usually end it with an ‘i wish’, that was your english and history, you wish you could understand it better, but it always seemed impossible. what you were least expecting was getting paired with the best literature student you knew, jeno. he annoyed you at times, acting like a pretentious asshole going around and quoting shakespeare and some other century-dead author. when you went and quoted pythagroas near him it was now apparently a problem, you two bickered back and forth in class during group introductions about greek philosophers for almost an hour, debating if aristotle was more of a math genius or a linguistics expert.

after the heated discussion, jeno told you ‘i love a good debate, you have some crazy opinions though’ he ended up giving you his phone number. it was only the first week of classes, your first ‘friend’(?), you texted him that night, but no response came. the next week you were struggling with questions your professor had given you all to go with a reading.

you texted jeno:

‘hey is this correct? *PICTURE ATTACHED*

his response chimed on your phone five minutes later:

‘no’

and that was the only response you got, no help, no explanation, you didn’t even know what was wrong with your answer to begin with. fuck this, you ended up calling him, to your surprise he answered with a ‘what?’

you didn’t mean to blow up on him, but it just came out, ‘why can’t you be nice to me for one second and help me with this student homework?’

he sighed, making your ear vibrate with the sound, ‘take back what you said and i’ll help you’

you grumbled but obliged, ‘this homework and reading is not stupid, now please help me’

you guys ended up talking on the phone for almost two hours, discussing different themes from the reading, mostly arguing about who was right, but in the end jeno helped you get answers that were good enough. he talked you through the questions and the actual themes of the reading, the elements, and showed you how to better analysis pieces of literature. you were eternally grateful but absolutely mortified at the same time.

after that phone call, you were psyched, finally finding someone that could help you pass. you were always the person in math classes that everyone went to, you didn’t have to be that person for others anymore. although you remember all the emotional baggage and difficulty when trying to help others study and understand formulas, you wouldn’t ask much of jeno, only when you really needed it.

two weeks ago you found him in the library, doing homework with books scattered around him. the first thing you noticed were glasses that he had never worn before, big frames making his eyes look much bigger in such a cute way. you figured if you asked he wouldn’t mind if you joined him, and you figured that if you asked in an even nicer way, he could help you with the literature homework.

‘hey jeno!’ you greeted him, walking up to his table, he looked up, pink lips still in a straight line, ‘would you mind if i joined you?’

‘i guess not’ he shrugged and moved some of his books out of the way for you, now sitting across from him you smiled slightly and got out your own homework. abstract algebra was your favorite class so far this semester, you never thought getting homework would make you so giddy. you couldn’t believe some people found it excruciating, while it was just a ‘fun activity’ for you. you and jeno continue work in silence, you would steal glances every once in a while, his eyes scanning over the paper as he scribbled down notes and highlight sentences. eyebrows knitting together and whispering out words in order to analyze everything perfectly. you thought it was cute, his lips would curl up into a smile after every question got answered. sitting in front of him, you could see the perfect slope of his nose, his broad shoulders slouched as he leaned into the desk, his large hand brushing his black hair back sporadically. the golden ratio had nothing on him.

not long after the trance jeno left you in, you finished your math homework and now it was time for your enemy: literature. you looked up and glanced at jeno who was writing notes down, ‘hey’ he lifted his head, ‘do you think you could help me with this?’ you motioned down to the paper in front of you, he followed and noticed your blank page compared to his one that was filled.

‘did you even try?’ he questioned, ‘it looks like you haven’t even started’

‘well’ you started with a sheepish smile, ‘i did do the reading, but i could barely understand any of it’

he sighed, his hands reaching under his glasses so he could rub his eyes, ‘okay, and what part did you not understand?’

you grabbed your packet of papers and flipped until you found the sentence, reading out loud, ‘his sense of her inferiority—of its being a degradation—of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with a warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding, but was very unlikely to recommend his suit’, you looked up at him, offering the best pleading eyes you could muster.

he slightly rolled his eyes, ‘so, basically darcy should put away his pride of being in a higher ranking than elizabeth, but he cares more about her status than love. even while he is proposing, he still looks down on elizabeth and wants her to feel grateful that he is even considering her as a wife’

‘oh, i never thought of it that way’ you mumbled, looking down at your paper again.

‘don’t they teach you stuff like this in high school? god, i fear for your grade when we actually have to read and analyze a whole book and not just passages for exercises’

the sentence was a stab to the heart, taken aback you said nothing as shame burned through your body. growing up you’d have teachers, friends, and your parents comment on your lack of understanding for english and literature, but you’ve never heard a remark like this. it cut deep, you opened and closed your mouth, unable to give an actual response, incapable of making any snide comeback, you gathered your things, got up and walked away from him. before he started to see the tears that made its way down your face.

you avoided jeno as much as you could, you sat nowhere near him in your shared class, never looked in his direction in the courtyard and started taking different routes to other classes. it was working out great for the most part, that was until he had transferred into your biology ‘unity of life’ class three weeks into the semester, at the very last minute of course. rumors were going around that a lot of students had transferred out of his previous one due to it ‘being too hard’ and that the professor ‘was a nightmare’ and he needed a natural science requirement for his major, secondary education if you could remember correctly.

seeing him walk through the door of one of your favorite classes was a different type of personal hell, and you were having a great day so far. you softly groaned, trying to resist the urge to roll your eyes in annoyance. your desk partner seemed to catch on, jaemin turned to you, ‘whats wrong? forgot to do last nights homework?’

you turned towards him, ‘never, i was so excited for this assignment, i finished all the questions as soon as i got home… it’s just… that guy, the one who just walked in’ you glanced back to his lab table, jaemin followed with his eyes, ‘i’m in his literature class and he’s nothing but an egomaniac, basically called me dumb for not understand some passage from a book’

the blond haired boy frowned, ‘he might know some books, but wait until he gets a taste of a real challenge, he transferred too late into the semester, he’s fucked’. your lips twitched up into a smile. you met jaemin the first day of class, introducing himself as a veterinarian science major with a minor in biology. you two became quick friends after you got him coffee one morning, you ended up with two cups after the cafe got your first order wrong. he was nothing but thankful, long discussions in class that lead to topics that never related to science. you got to know him pretty well, often texting and meeting up for study groups with other students from class, you both always paired up in class whenever prompted.

‘that’s fair, would be satisfying to watch him struggle’ you whispered.

he giggled, ‘god you sound like such a sadist’

the professor pulled up his notes as he prepared for the beginning of class, ‘takes one to know one’

you opened your notebook to the current lesson: the cytoskeleton. the professor went through the slideshow while you happily took notes on cells and its structure and stabilities within the cytoplasm. once the professor was done with the lecture, he started asking students questions, seeing if they were paying attention.

‘okay, now what is a delicate coil held together by hydrogen bonding between every fourth amino acid?’ he looks over his roster of students, ‘jeno! why don’t you answer this for us’

on cue, everyone turned to watch him, his head shot up from his notebook in surprise. he obviously looked unprepared, hands nervously pushing his bangs back. ‘oh… um, i don’t know i’m sorry professor, i transferred late into this class and still need to catch up’ his hair looked wild as the tips of his ears shone a bright red.

the poor professor sighed, ‘does anyone want to help jeno out?’

you immediately shot up your hand, ‘y/n?’

you smiled dramaticly, before another breathe you answered, ‘alpha helix’

‘yes, thats correct! great job y/n… now you all need to pay attention, this will be on our first exam coming up in two weeks’ he went on about amino acids and different elements. jaemin leaned into you, ‘nice’ he whispered, a smile on his face. yeah, that would show jeno what you could do.

you peeked back at jeno who whispered ‘two weeks!?’ to himself looking distressed, you felt a pang in your heart. perhaps it wasn’t fair, stuff like this was never taught in secondary school science classes, obviously he was going to struggle. you weren’t going to seek him out and offer help though, he knew science and arithmetic were your strong suits, it was his turn to come running, beg for forgiveness and ask for help.

speak of the asshole, and it shall fart, jeno texted you later that night.

‘hey…’ you scoffed, the audacity of this guy, you resisted the urge to text him back a ‘you should know this already right?’

you texted back a simple ‘what?’

he immediately answered, ‘do you think you could help me with this bio homework and maybe study together for the exam ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡’. shameless.

giving him the benefit of the doubt, you relented. maybe it was an off day for him, ‘i guess, meet me in the library tomorrow, and we’ll start’ he hearted the message and that was the end of the conversation.

you woke up early the next day, grabbing every notebook you had kept over the years that could help jeno. you texted him right after noon, ‘this is an all day affair, meet me in an hour and bring me a caramel macchiato. don’t be late, pride & prejudice wasn’t written in a day’ he liked the message as a response. you left your dorm and headed to the library, setting up a space for a long study session. jeno comes right on time, with two coffees in his hand.

he places the bigger cup down in front of you, ‘large caramel macchiato, with extra caramel, extra vanilla, and extra drizzle’

you look up at him and give him a modest smile, grabbing the drink and taking a sip from the straw and swirling the ice around the cup, ‘thank you, lets get started’ he nodded and pulled out the chair next to you and sat down.

you got out all your notebooks, his eyes widened making you giggle, ‘jesus christ dude, how many notebooks do you have for this class?’

‘well, not all of them are from this class, i brought some from previous classes that i think could help you’ you handed over a stack of notes, which he begrudgingly took. ‘okay, now lets get started…’

you two had spent hours discussing carbohydrates, cellulose, and enzymes. sometimes arguing back and forth about answers, ‘okay so, a system of membranes that modifies and packages proteins for export by the cell?’ you asked jeno as he flipped through his notes.

‘um… integrins?’ he answered, totally unsure of himself in the process.

you smiled, ‘not quite, its the golgi apparatus, integrins are cell-surface receptor proteins… crazy how you don’t remember this from basic biology classes…’ you mumbled the last part.

but of course he still caught it, ‘what was that?’

you shrugged your shoulders, ‘i mean we learn about cells and stuff in secondary school… everyone knows that the golgi apparatus is the packaging and distribution center of the cells, i mean everyone talks about how the mitochondria is the power house of the cell, is that the only thing you remember from biology?’

his eyebrows shot up in surprise, ‘oh? so that's what this is about?’ he smirked, ‘you’re still upset about what i said last week aren’t you?’

your gaze diverted from his line of sight, thankful you wore your hair down this morning so he wouldn’t see the pink burning on the tips of your ears. ‘no… i’m just saying’

‘...saying almost the same exact thing i said?’ jeno smiled, and his eyes turned into crescent moons, happy that he caught you in the act, ‘understandable… well, uh, if you help me, i’ll help you’

you crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes at him, ‘not until you apologize, not everyone can be as good as you in literature’

‘okay, i’m sorry, you are a genius in math and science, now please agree’ jeno pleaded.

‘fine’ you answered.

another week passed and jeno finally felt comfortable taking the exam, on the other hand your literature professor started talking about a project for that class. jeno reassured you that he would help you in the best way he could, he helped you with literary analysis, notations, and rhetoric. you ended up getting an 85% percent on the most recent homework, excited to show jeno you made your way to the classroom.

‘so, jeno, i’ve been seeing you hanging out with that y/n person in our class’ you stopped before the entrance to the classroom, ‘they literally know nothing about literature and refuse to learn, how could you put yourself through that?’

‘oh, well, um, i don’t know, i’m just helping them with some stuff’ jeno answered. you peeked inside, he was with two other students, a girl and a boy, sitting together in a group.

‘must be pretty frustrating, i don’t know why they are even in this class, fucking moron, am i right?’ the girl responded and you could hear the others, but jeno, laugh.

you could feel your heart break as your mind begin to buzz. eyes watered, and you thought back to your discussion with jaemin, of course you guys were poking fun at jeno too, but nothing this extreme. ‘i mean, i guess one could think that, but everything about th-’ you couldn’t listen anymore, turned your heels and stormed off. stopping at the end of the hallway to through your graded paper away in anger and humiliation. after everything you both did for each other, it made your blood boil in anger and betrayal, you had to get back home. you paced to your dorm, keeping your head down so no one would notice you and your state of mind right now. skipping one literature class wouldn’t hurt.

so it did, and now here you are, sitting in your literature class with the professor reading out the pairings for the first project. for the rest of the week and over the weekend, you had ignored jeno’s texts and calls, you decided you were finally done with his games. ‘y/n and jeno’ the professor read out to the class.

‘WHAT’ you gasped, not noticing you had barked it out until everyone turned around and glared at you.

‘i’m sorry?...’ your professor had stopped everyone to bring attention back, she gave you a quizzical look, ‘is there a problem?’

you shook your head, still surprised by your sudden outburst, ‘n-no, i apologize’ you hung your head in shame, red blooming on your cheeks from embarrassment.

your professor nodded and resumed her list of partners, after she announced to the class, ‘now sit with your partners and discuss what you all want to do for your projects for the rest of class’

you groaned, you weren’t ready to face jeno yet, you probably never would be. you never wanted to see or speak to him ever again, you shuffled to his seat, taking your time to get over to him and sit down.

‘hey’ he said, ‘you’ve been ignoring me this whole week, whats up?’

fake ass bitch, you thought, he didn’t care, ‘nothing, just not a good week i guess’

he frowned, ‘damn, well, if it makes you feel better, i got a 90% on my first bio exam!’ he beamed, ‘so at least now you know your hard work is paying off’

‘that’s great, glad you’ve been getting at least something out of this’ you deadpanned.

he gave you a quizzical look, but decided to drop the subject, ‘so, for the project i was thinking about covering the tenant of wildfell hall’

you literally didn’t care and let him pick whatever, ‘yeah that’s fine’

his eyes narrowed, giving you a weird look again, ‘okay… so, the book has themes of double standards, religion, morality, and love. i can send you passages that we can cover for our project…’. jeno went on for the next thirty minutes with only little nods and comments from you, agreeing to anything he had to suggest. all you wanted to do was leave, once the professor dismissed class that's what you did, picking up your backpack and storming off with jeno still talking.

you rushed down the hallway, ignoring the calls coming from jeno behind you. with his crazy athletic built he eventually caught up to you, grabbed your shoulder and spun you around. you gazed up at him, he stared down at you, looking for any answer he could find. ‘what is your problem? i thought you’d be happy we were paired up?’ he started interrogating you.

you sighed, almost giving up, ‘jeno, can we just meet up later and talk about it? i’m exhausted right now’

he sighed and his hands fell from your shoulders, ‘i’ll text you’ he nodded, and you turned around and left. once at your dorm you threw your backpack to the side and climbed into your bed, taking a well needed nap. a few hours later, your phone vibrating next to you pulled you out of dream land.

3 missed texts from jeno:

‘y/n, are you able to come over to my apartment soon?’

‘plz stop being so stubborn its annoying plz just talk to me’

‘here’s the address lmk when ur on the way’

you texted him back:

‘sorry i was taking a nap’

‘i can be there in a bit’

you got up and got ready, grabbed your backpack and left for jeno’s. once you got there it took you a good five minutes to have the courage to knock on his door. hesitant you tenderly knocked on the door, after a second he opened up the door and let you inside without another word. he was in shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt and smelled immaculate, you gulped, raking your eyes over his body, strong arms and long legs, a face without imperfections. your heart burned in anger and panic, angry that he was so gorgeous it pissed you off, panic because all you could think was what the fuck am i doing right now? ‘do you want to sit down? i saw you brought your backpack, we can work on some stuff if you want?’

you nodded, walked over to the couch and plopped down, grabbing your backpack you opened it and got your laptop out, pulling up the notes from your calculus 2 class. jeno joined you on the couch, sitting a little bit to close for comfort, but you said nothing. his bare leg brushed against your clothed one, sending a buzzing sensation all throughout your body, trying your best to ignore him you stayed focused on your screen.

question 1: x³ + 2x² - 6z = 4 - 2y²

without a second thought you typed in the answer:

r³cos³0 + 2r² - 6z = 4

submitting it you smiled as the green checkmark popped up, correct on the first try. ‘damn, that’s crazy’ jeno broke the silence, you glanced over at him.

‘what?’ you said turned back to your laptop.

‘i literally understood none of that and you got it on the first try!? that’s literally fucking insane’

you laughed at his outburst, ‘it’s nothing really, it was kind of easy, just plug in the following x and y polar conversion formulas into the equation where possible, then you just rewrite everything and use the formulas to convert the equation into cylindrical coordinates’

jeno howled in laughter, which was contagious enough to make you laugh, ‘that’s insane, you’re amazing’

you cocked your head to the side, intrigued by his word choice, ‘oh? am i?’

his demeanor changed, the air felt heavy as he calmed down and moved closer to you. he leaned in, and you panicked, he glanced down at your lips and back up to your eyes. his long eyelashes met his cheeks, you followed suit and closed your eyes, ignoring the way your mind is screaming at you not to do this. heart says otherwise, as you could hear it beat in your ears, whole body buzzing as his pink, soft lips brushed against yours.

jeno moved in deeper, teeth clinking together as you ravaged your mouth, he was a starved man, and you were the last meal he would ever receive. it was warm and sensual, he reached around your waist and roughly pulled your torso into his. his nose bumped into yours as he moved his head slightly for better access, laptop completely abandoned to the side your arms lifted to his biceps, squeezing hard as you let out a soft moan. you broke the kiss as you pressed against his arms, your forehead leaned on his as you both caught your breath, between pants he smiled and laughed, you did not. anxiety ran your blood cold as now all you could think of was what he had said in the classroom about you. was this all a joke?

‘jeno…’ you started, and his smile faltered, ‘i can’t do this’ you stood up and grabbed your laptop and shoved it haphazardly into your backpack, heatedly rushing out of his apartment and down the hall to the entrance. again you ignored jeno as he called after you, his footsteps echoing behind you. you pushed the heavy door open and the air hit you with the wind flying through your hair. continuing down the lamp-lighted street, the boy was still trying to catch up to you.

‘y/n please, we forgot to talk about it’ he addressed your almost non-existent figure fading into the darkness.

he was hopeless by now, but still refused to give up, he moved again, ‘y/n!’

you stopped and turned around, walking up to him his build now growing hazy as water pooled in your eyes. ‘you wanna talk about it? you WANT to talk about it? FINE, you are such a stuck-up asshole, thinking i’m so stupid because i don’t have the best grade in our lit class. laughing about it with your friends when they call me a moron! you think you’re so great you didn’t even know what the chemical symbol was for sulfur, FUCKING SULFUR JENO’ you were yelling at this point, jabbing your finger into his chest with every emphasis in your anger. ‘you think you can play me in some fucked up game you have going on in your head, keeping me around so you can feel better about yourself and use me for help so you could pass an exam, i know i’ve asked you for help before, but at the end of it, all i wanted to do was be your friend, you could’ve said no, but i couldn’t. you gave me no choice but to give in with the deal that you’d help me in return, and you know what? i needed the help, badly. and you knew that and used it in a discussion with your friends that laughed at me because of it, you know how that made me feel? like absolute shit, i wanted to be your friend but all you have ever done was use me and hurt me, and guess what? you don’t have to fear for’ fingers motioning air quotations, ‘my grade because i got a good grade on my homework thanks to you, so thank you jeno! i really appreciate the help, i hope it really boosted your ego, maybe you can go fucking write a book about it or something, i don’t know and i don’t care, but i’m done’ your face was probably beet red at this point, while angry tear's avalanche down your face, you hastily whipped your face and snot that escaped during your outburst. his face focused into view, he was so pretty, and that made you tear up all over again, he could have been different.

he looked defeated, frustrated as his fists clenched into balls and relax over and over, ‘y/n, please let me explain, i di-’ you stopped him, placing your hand in front of his face.

‘do the math jeno, the probability that i would ever hear you out is slim…’ you turned and started walking away, briefly glancing back, he was still in the same spot. ‘it’s S by the way, the symbol for sulfur, maybe now you’ll remember it when you think back on this night… not so proud after all’ your voice cracked at the last sentence as your heart wrenched and stomach mangled, tears breaking through yet again.

you left him there.

you decided not to tell jaemin about what happened, but jeno’s absence was evident. you couldn’t sleep, all that replayed in your nightmare was his soft lips brushing against yours, and you swore you could still feel his strong arms pulling you forward, into him. the feeling that gave you clawed at your heart, beating you down every single time you closed your eyes and pictured his face smiling at you, laughing at you, annoyed at you. anything he gave you, you would take, no matter how much it broke you down. you liked him, no, you like him. even after everything he’s done, you still held a soft spot for him in your fractured heart. all the phone calls that turned into facetime when he would ask for help with math, and you had to show him the steps of a problem. laughing every time you would shake trying to hold your phone steady as he jokingly squawked, ‘keep still!’ when he would read passages to you over the phone late at night, and you’d have fallen asleep to his tender voice before he could even explain the motif. it had only been 5 weeks of class, but it felt like you had known him longer, despite your differences in subjects you both eventually subsided the arguments with long discussions and debates on why one answer was right and how the other was wrong. revelations that came to light after hours of going back and forth.

you stood in the shower, blankly staring at the white ceramic wall in front of you as droplets rained down. you thought about the day you and jeno were studying in the library, renting a study room within because you figured the discussion would be heated. it ended up in a feverish battle between the differences of cell adhesion and cell migration. by the end of it you were standing up, hands pulling at your roots in irritation trying to explain it to the boy sat down in front of you with a shit-eating grin adorning his face. ‘y/n, y/n, stop, stop, please, i can’t take it anymore’ he laughed, clutching his stomach, ‘i got it, while they are tightly associated, cell adhesion provides structural support and stability to tissues, while cell migration is the directed movement of cells from one location to another’

your arms dramatically dropped to your sides, ‘YOU KNEW THIS WHOLE TIME’ pointing, you accused him.

he laughed again at your reaction, ‘i just love seeing you like that, it’s cute, you know i just love a challenge’ he exclaimed going back to his notes.

you laughed to yourself, recalling the moment of the playful banter and subtle flirting that slipped out on occasion. you giggled, howled, and snorted a little too much at the memory, which silently followed into your heart sinking to the bottom of your stomach, the shower masking the uncontrollable sobs that carried through every limb, appendage, and bone.

jaemin went on and on about some story about his roommates, you paid barely any attention, eyes glued to the door as you waited to see if he would show up. the blond boy slurred his words, leaning into you now, trying to get you to look at him. you turned your body, he was giving you a pouty face with big, shining eyes, ‘i asked you a question y/nnie. were you even listening to me?’ he tugged on the sleeve of your hoodie, his strength made you feel like a rag doll.

‘i was… and the answer is yes?’ you said, unsure about whatever he was yapping about.

he beamed and clapped playfully, ‘yippie! i knew you could use a pick-me-up, i promise it’ll be fun, the party is saturday so clear your schedule, i’ll pick you up’

your shoulder shook as you lightly laughed at his theatrics, rubbing your temple in exasperation as to what you just got yourself into, ‘sounds like fun’. you barely noticed jeno walking in out of the corner of your eye. he looked worse than you did, a hoodie with a stain, sweats that looked they were able to fall apart, mis-matched socks and unkempt hair. he kept pushing his glasses up his nose and rubbing his tired eyes. your heart skipped a beat when you noticed his dark circles that almost matched yours, his being a little worse for wear. before he could catch you staring, you quickly focused your attention to the professor starting class, going through the roaster and continuing the lecture on cells.

‘can anyone tell me the variations in cell types? jeno, got an answer?’ the professor smiled at him, everyone turned to spectate and wait for him to answer, except you.

‘um, prokaryotic and eukaryotic’ he dragged, sounding uninterested despite getting the question right.

‘yes! very good jeno’ the professor praised, moving on to the next question. you started to sweat, angry that he got it right and yet you were now holding on your high c- in literature class. how come he could now catch onto science but yet, you were still unable to grapple with the concepts of a victorian classic novel? or maybe it was the fact you had skipped every class this week, refusing to work with jeno on anything, you noticed the text and calls from him were dwindling three days after the confrontation, however everyday he sent pictures of his notes and analysis on the reading and how the project was going. as pathetic as it was, you continue to lay awake in bed nearly every night rereading his text from that night:

i know you are angry and probably hate me right now and that’s understandable, but i don’t want to give up on you, on us. do you think newton gave up on the laws of motion after he failed on the first or second try? you aren’t getting the whole picture, plz give me a chance to explain, i don’t even know if you are reading this, but if you are, plz hear me out you got it all wrong about that day in the classroom, and if it felt like i was using you, i’m sorry. that was never my intention, i just like being around you, you are always quick-witted and i was just trying to taunt you so you’d pay attention to me because i really like you, ig that backfired badly lol. anyway, i hope this will change your mind, and you’ll reach out, i’ll give you time.

followed by a very unserious message that you couldn’t help but smile at:

oh, i almost forgot, don’t worry about the project, but you could come to class, i’m starting to fear for your grade again (,,>﹏<,,) (only kidding!)

another biology class and 2 skipped lit classes pass and the weekend was finally brought upon the world. you held the pleasure of assisting jaemin to a party hosted by someone he knew from one of his health classes. it took forever for you to pick out a cute outfit, but opted for a sleeveless shirt and basic jean shorts and a pair of white sneakers you found buried in the back of your small closet. you carefully did your makeup, usually not taking it too far, but this was special, and you needed to feel like a bad bitch tonight.

jaemin showed up an hour later, deciding to walk to the house 4 blocks down, saying he wanted ‘to get turnt with you’ and that he refused to drink and drive. you agreed, walking sounded better than looking for a driver or someone having to stay sober throughout the night. you exited your building and found jaemin’s car in the lot, he climbed out to greet you and whistled, eyes eating up your form, ‘damn, you look hot’

you smiled bashfully, ‘thanks jaemin, even nerds can be hot you know?’

he turned to lock his car, ‘i mean, yes, but like, you always look cute, but this is like the freaky side of you, it’s different… it’s nice’

you cackled, ‘please never call me freaky ever again, i’m going to revoke your brain rot privileges’

he admitted defeat and dropped the conversation, you both now walked down the sidewalk in perfect silence with the sun now set, surveying the rows of houses in different stages of life in the moon glow. ‘it’s this one’ jaemin nudged you, stopping, he pointed to the house on the corner, you nodded and wrapped your arm around his, linking together so you immediately wouldn’t get lost in the sea of a potential crowd. he opened the old, green door, and you followed, as expected there was a good amount of people attending and as the night worn on you figured more would pile in.

jaemin turned to you, ‘do you wanna go find some drinks?’

‘yes, please’ you quickly nodded as he pulled you through the throng of people, trying to find the kitchen.

once you were there, the host of the party seemed to also be there, ‘jaemin! glad you could make it man’ they dabbed each other up and touched shoulders embracing in a ‘bro hug’.

‘hell yeah, no way i’d not come for the first party of the semester, i brought my friend along with me!’ he pulled you closer to him, now giving you the floor as all attention was pulled towards you, wincing as jaemin jabbed at your side, urging you to get closer to his friend.

‘hi, i’m y/n’ you said giving him a genuine smile, holding out your hand.

‘oh my, you are gorgeous, and you came with this sleaze bag’ he nodded towards jaemin who just playfully hit his friends shoulder, ‘i’m donghyuck, but everyone calls me haechan, its a pleasure to meet you’ he softly took a hold of your hand and bent down to give it a little peck, you giggled at the eccentric greeting.

jaemin tore haechan away, ‘alright, not too much now’ he joked, ‘it’s time for shots’ haechan clapped and guided you both to the kitchen island that was filled with different alcohol, he picked out a clear liquid and poured them into plastic shot cups he grabbed from a neat stack. jaemin lifted up his cup, ‘fuck pharmacology’ you snickered at his comment and raised your cup along with haechan who nodded in agreement. on cue, you threw back the cup and shuddered as the sweet nectar burned your throat. ‘hell yeah! another! at the end of the night i want to be able to forget about fucking blood urea nitrogen and blood glucose’ haechan laughed and poured another in all 3 cups. after that it was another, and then another, and after about 6 shots you tapped out and opted for a gin and coke that haechan was more than happy to make for you.

more time had passed than you thought as more people flooded the kitchen, wrecking havoc on the choices of liquor, haechan handed you your cup and jaemin motioned for you both to move to the living room. people were dancing, some were playing beer pong off in the corner, and others were chatting on various furniture. ‘want to dance a bit?’ he whispered in your ear because of the loud music that made the floor vibrate under your seat, you could feel it rattling your brain. giving him a silent nod he grabbed your hand and led you through the crowd, finding a spot and finding the rhythm of the song. you bobbed your head to the beat and moved back and forth with jaemin in front of you, you always thought he was attractive, but you saw him nothing more than a friend, you felt comfortable around him. you nursed your drink slowly, already somewhat tipsy from the shots, you didn’t want to get drunk too fast or blackout. jaemin grabbed your free hand and twirled you around, dramatically moved your joined hands with fever. you laughed along with him, indulging him in an embarrassing, yet fun dance that probably made you both look wasted to others.

his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close much to your surprise, pleasanton’tkissmepleasedon’tkissmepleasedon’tkissme ran rampant in your mind as he leaned towards your ear ‘don’t look now, but a certain someone is staring at you from across the room, you let out a strangled breath.

‘do you know who it is?’ you whispered back.

‘jeno’ he mused and your lively spirited fell.

‘whats up? something go down with him?’ he pestered.

‘um, kinda, its a long story’ you faltered and jaemin frowned.

‘damn, that serious? his loss, he can look all he wants’ jaemin wanted to be lighthearted, make you smile again and keep jeno out of your mind. you were grateful as he pulled you into another whimsical dance, the joyful nature of his was infectious.

after a couple more songs had passed, you had downed your whole drink and let go of jaemin’s hand, ‘i’m gonna go find haechan and have him make me another drink, it was surprisingly superb’ jaemin nodded and said he would stay in the same spot for your return.

you hastily made your way to the kitchen, apologizing to others you had to push through. the small room was almost empty, haechan was nowhere in sight so you looked for a different drink. ‘having fun with jaemin?’ a voice boomed from behind you, one that you knew all too well. you slowly turned to find jeno smirking at you, leaning against the fridge adorned in a tight white shirt and ripped jeans, oh fuck this stupid earth, he just had to follow you here looking like that.

‘yes i am, actually’ you stated matter-of-factly.

his lips twitched up in amusement, ‘is that so?’ he moved in closer, eventually trapping you between him and the liquor table. jeno’s soft brown eyes met yours, searching for something inside, however, his eyes told you everything, hope, they screamed. his hand lifted towards your face, slowly brushed against the skin lighter than a feather, taking a piece of your hair and pushing it behind your ear, ‘so he wouldn’t mind this?’. his eyes fluttered closed as he bowed towards you.

before he could seal the deal, ‘jeno’ you stopped him.

he sighed, defeated, ‘just please talk to me, you said the probability was slim, but not zero, let me explain’ jeno begged, his large hands caressed your cheeks tenderly, they were soft and warm.

you could blame the alcohol as you finally let him speak his case, ‘fine, we can find somewhere private’

he smiled, eyes disappearing in relief. he grabbed your hand, leading upstairs and into an empty room, he closed the door behind him as you took a seat on the bed, ‘alright, grovel and explain’ you lifted your phone up to check the time ‘you have 10 minutes’

he gave you a smug smile, ‘that’s all i need baby, you know i love a challenge’ you rolled your eyes at his attempt to uplift the tension fogging the air. ‘that day in the classroom, you obviously didn’t stay long enough to hear what i had to say about you, at first i didn’t know how to respond being put into that position was hard, you didn’t ‘put me through anything’ though, i had nothing but fun with you, even if it was frustrating at times. we always figured it out. but when i heard what she said after i wasn’t just going to allow it, i said ‘yeah i guess one could say that’ because these people literally do not know you like i do, i finished with ‘but everything about that is completely untrue, they are willing to learn, but it's just taking longer than some of us who take a bunch of english and literature classes. if you got to actually know her you’d see how bright they actually are. a literal math genius and a real mastermind of science, could answer any question from the top of their head, it’s insane. so while we are strong in this subject, they are just stronger in other fields’ he explained, watching you intently. you wiggled under his gaze, making you feel same, but itched for him to go on, ‘i then told her that she should not speak on things she knows nothing about and left because i will not associate myself with someone who talks like that about people i care about’ he emphasized the last words carefully, grabbing hold of your hand and lifting you from the bed, ‘y/n, i’m so sorry, it was never my intention to hurt you, ever. i care about you so deeply, you show up in every romance novel i read, every poem i skim, the stories i write… it’s all you’ jeno gazed down at you, his eyes now searching for an answer, hope, and panic could only be found in his as you studied his features in the warm glow of the moon peaking through the window.

‘you really said that? you defended me?’ you questioned him quietly.

‘yes y/n, i would never let anyone hurt you, even if you aren’t in the room, because in that case, they hurt me too’

you hummed, the haze of your brain clouded any judgment you held, he was something different, the greatest math problem that needed to be solved. ‘thank you jeno, i guess it’s now my turn to apologize’

he chuckled at you, ‘no need baby’ you laughed softly, ‘now, can we pick up where we left off? you know, someone once told me that pride and prejudice wasn’t written in a day’ he wagged his eyebrows at you, moving you into an embrace as he kissed the top of your head. you held on tightly, holding him as you buried your face into his chest swallowing his scent so you could save it for later.

the hug ended, but he still held you close in his arms, ‘i guess i could pick up another chapter or two’ he laughed at your poor pun and drooped down, so his lips could meet yours. it was messier than the first kissed you shared with him, wet and heated as you could taste the soju on his tongue. he moved at a faster pace, devouring you like an animal, jeno walked you towards the bed, you gave in falling down with him, with him climbing on top of you, never breaking away. teeth on teeth echoed throughout the room as you moaned, his hands exploring every part of your body, making your core burn more and more.

jeno dipped down to attack your neck in kisses and sucking at the exposed skin, hands finding a way to his hair and tugging slightly at the intimate feeling of him being closer than ever. ‘please, tell me you’re mine, please want me’ he breathed out, the air softly hitting your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. he was desperate, kissing you anywhere he could and waited for you to answer.

‘y-yes jeno, i’m yours’ you choked out, ‘i want you in every way’ satisfied with your response he growled and his mouth met yours once more, ‘p-please touch me’ you begged frantically, needing anything to ease the sensation that pooled in the pits of your stomach.

jeno hummed, fingers brushing up and down your exposed stomach, ‘where baby? use your words, remember what i taught you?’ it was your turn to make demands now, wasting no time you grabbed his hand and brought it down between your legs, he cupped your vagina. you groaned, you needed more. jeno grabbed the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down and threw them behind him, the cool air hit your core making you rub your thighs together in order to find little warmth.

he carefully pulled your underwear down, wanting to savor the moment of finally seeing you bare, he gulped, ‘god, you have such a pretty pussy’ he took his hand and rubbed the sensitive skin, ‘so wet. just for me, right? all for me baby’ you cried out at his words. he inserted a finger into your weeping hole, making you gasp out in surprise at the feeling of just one finger filling you up dangerously. as he pushed back and forth your legs trembled, he added another finger and brought his head down to your core, ‘i bet you taste amazing’ was all he said before he dove in deep, his tongue against your clit as he drank up your juices and sucked on the flesh.

‘f-fuck’ you mewled, grabbed a hold of his soft, black hair in order to keep you grounded, with every thrust he made as he fucked with his mouth you tugged on his hair, pulling when you would feel the band about to snap, jeno groaned, loving the way you’d use him for stability.

he stopped and removed his face, you whined from the loss of contact as his fingers also found their way outside of you, he smiled ‘don’t worry, my pretty baby, i’ll take care of you’. he threw off his shirt nearly getting drunker with the way you were taking him in, he loved being adored by you, in such a calculated way that made sense in every story. you followed suit and removed your top and bra, baring naked in front of him and laid back on the bed as he admired you from afar, ‘you’re so beautiful’ he breathed, discarding his pants and underwear he crawled back on top of you, whispering sweet nothing's as he peppered your collarbone and breasts with kisses.

‘are you sure you want this? it might hurt a little at first, but i promise i’ll go slow until you tell me otherwise’ he towered over you.

your glassy eyes met his in reassurance, ‘yes, jeno i want this’ you confirmed everything for him. he quickly lined up his cock with your cunt and gently pushed inside, his eyes never leaving yours. your hands grasped around his muscled biceps, digging your nails into them when the pain was strong. once he bottomed out he stopped to let you get used to his size, you shared sensual kisses and sweet touches, jeno doing everything in his power to make you feel loved and safe at that moment going forward, that’s all he ever wanted to do. for weeks, he had been beating himself up for taking the teasing comments way too far at times, poking fun at something you were obviously insecure about, but you did the same, he figured it was kind of the thing you two had. in reality, he wanted to push you to do better, making comments like that so you’d work harder and prove everyone wrong. no one could work with you better than him, so he had gone out of his way to ask the pressor to pair you up on the project, also making the forced proximity making you talk to him after you stopped answering his calls and messages. he should have gone a better way about motivating you, but now that he had your forgiveness, he could work on better strategies.

‘jeno, you can move now’ you rasped out, still holding on his arms like an anchor with a boat. he pulled out and pushed back in, taking it slow as you moaned at the feeling of him filling you up to the brim, jeno picked up the pace, setting a steady rhythm as skin clapping together filled the room, ‘oh fuck, just like that’ your chest heaving up and down.

he slammed into with vigor, bitting your bottom lip as you opened your mouth to let out a breathless moan, ‘yeah? you like that? fuck, you’re so tight, literally sucking me in, i never want to leave this pretty fucking pussy’ he husked, he licked your lips and kissed your jaw as he grunted, setting a faster pace, making you cry out in pleasure. he grabbed your legs and opened them wider, giving him better access to go deeper into your abused cunt. you cried as the flame in your belly raged with a thousand fires, ‘keep your eyes on me baby’ jeno demanded, automatically making you swallow as you moved your eyes to meet his, blown out pupils filled with lust as your vision of him became blurry as blissful tears threaten to fall with every snap on his hips digging into you. you’ve had flings and hook-ups before, but nothing as profound as this, the eye contact, togetherness of him never backing too far away from your hold, you were being wholly consumed by jeno. everything right down to your core, he was all you could feel, taste, see, and think about.

‘o-oh my god’ you sobbed, hips jerking up at the feeling of the ripples burning through you, the coil in your stomach tightening, craving to break open, ‘m gonna cum’ you clenched around him, making jeno hiss above you at the feeling of tightness around his throbbing dick.

‘go on baby, cum for me,’ he whimpered as the feeling for him also grew intense, the way your cunt hugged his dick was making his mind spin. jeno mumbled incoherently ‘i’m so close baby, let go, you can let go, i got you’ from his words and the way he pounded into you made you snap, legs trembling as liquid gushed from your core and past his cock and dripped onto the sheets. light-headed and dizzy you cried out for jeno as your orgasm burst over you.

you clenched again, feeling overwhelmed by the euphoric feeling, ‘oh, fuck’ jeno cursed as he stilled inside of you, painting your insides with his seed, he groaned at the sensation of finally filling you up and properly claiming you as his and his alone. he stayed there for a couple of minutes inside of you. savoring the static of the overstimulation and pleasure of release. you winced as the hot liquid poured out of you when he pulled out, the emptiness of it all. jeno watched as his cum slide down your hole and onto the sheet, he scooped up the remaining liquid that rushed out of you and shoved it back into your clit with two fingers, making you cry at the sensitivity. ‘fuck that was… one of the best experiences of my life’ he caught his breath and plopped down facing you, he gently caressed your chin, bringing your head to his as he softly left kisses on your lips, ‘let me get you cleaned up baby’

‘m tired’ you whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open.

‘i know, but let me take care of you and get you dressed, i know theres extra clothes somewhere around here’ he started rummaging around the wardrobes, digging into them in order to find anything adequate. ‘aha!’ he put on a clean pair of underwear and sweats, ‘i’ll be right back baby’ he left the room and came back after for what felt like an eternity with a warm wash cloth and clean clothes, ‘these are mark’s girlfriends pj’s i’m sure she won’t mind,’ he hummed, wiping you clean, and dressing you in the soft, clean clothes. he picked you up so he could throw the covers back, tucking you in with a kiss on the nose, ‘you’re so cute’

you lazily smiled at him, settling into the sheets as you clung onto his warm frame, ‘who’s room is this by the way?’ you whispered as jeno shut his eyes.

‘mark’s. doesn’t matter. you’re my girlfriend now right?’ he leaned his head on yours.

‘mmm girlfriend yes. mark who?’ words fell from your mouth as you yawned, sleeping coming to find you soon.

‘mark, shark.’ he dismissed you, ‘just be ready for a stern talk when we wake up from the man himself.’ he kissed your head as you drifted off to sleep, the morning was the least of your worries now, you finally figured out the solution, the obvious answer being: jeno.

862 notes · View notes

reidmarieprentiss · 9 months ago

Text

Love in the Club

Summary: Derek tries to cheer Spencer up by finding him someone to keep him company.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: light smut (18+), it's mostly just flirting, alcohol consumption, being in a club, Derek Morgan's charm

Word count: 9.7k

a/n: trying to make love in this club fr spencer come find me

main masterlist

The club was alive with energy, pulsing with vibrant lights and the thumping bass that seemed to sync with the beat of every heart in the room. Derek Morgan leaned casually against a table, his sharp eyes scanning the dance floor, but his attention kept drifting back to his friend, Spencer Reid. Spencer stood beside him, a drink in hand, fidgeting slightly with the glass as he observed the crowd with a thoughtful expression. Spencer wasn’t awkward in the same way he used to be; he could hold a conversation with women just fine, but often, he couldn’t quite say the right things that led to another date. Derek knew that was weighing on his friend tonight.

After another failed dating attempt, Derek had dragged Spencer out to this club, determined to find him a rebound. It wasn’t just that Spencer rarely dated; Derek was beginning to suspect that his friend’s tension had something to do with not getting laid. Spencer never really talked about that aspect of his life, but Derek couldn’t help but wonder if that was part of the problem. The man was brilliant, sure, but even geniuses needed to unwind.

They had been at the club for nearly two hours, moving from table to bar and back, chatting idly about the cases they’d worked on and the people they’d met, but Derek was starting to feel a little hopeless. Spencer hadn’t shown any interest in anyone, not even a glance that suggested he might be considering approaching someone. If Derek pushed too hard, Spencer would just retreat, and the last thing he wanted was to make his friend feel pitied.

But then, as if the universe decided to throw Derek a bone, the door to the club swung open, and you walked in with your friends. Derek noticed you immediately, the way you carried yourself with an easy confidence, your laughter carrying over the music as you talked with your friends. You were stunning, and Derek didn’t miss the way heads turned as you passed. He watched as you made your way to the bar, completely unaware of the eyes on you, Spencer’s included.

A grin tugged at the corners of Derek’s lips. Oh yeah, you’ll do just fine, he thought, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. Spencer was still nursing his drink, lost in his own thoughts, when Derek gave him a nudge.

“Hey, Reid,” Derek said, his tone casual but with a hint of mischief. “Let’s go get a refill.”

Spencer glanced at his nearly empty glass, then at Derek, nodding in agreement. He didn’t think anything of it—just assumed Derek wanted a change of scenery, maybe to catch a better view of the dance floor. Little did he know that Derek had a plan in motion. The two of them moved to the bar, finding a spot right next to you and your group, though Spencer didn’t notice you at first.

As Derek ordered their drinks, he couldn’t help but sneak a glance your way, his mind already working on how to introduce you to Spencer. The timing was just right, the music dipped, and your laughter bubbled up again, catching Spencer’s attention. Derek saw the moment Spencer’s gaze shifted, landing on you. There was a flicker of interest in his eyes that Derek had been waiting for all night.

The corner of Derek’s mouth twitched in a satisfied smile as he leaned over to Spencer, speaking just loud enough for you to hear. “Go say hi,” Derek encouraged, his voice low and encouraging. “You never know what might happen.”

Spencer, caught off guard, looked at Derek, then followed his line of sight directly to you. His eyes widened slightly, a faint blush creeping up his neck, but Derek could tell he was intrigued. Spencer’s lips parted as if to speak, but Derek was already one step ahead, raising his glass in a silent toast before nodding toward you.

Spencer hesitated for only a moment, then straightened his shoulders, a determined glint in his eyes. Maybe tonight would be different after all.

—

As you're laughing with your friends, letting the music and vibrant energy of the club lift your spirits, your eyes scan the room, taking in the sights and sounds. It’s a typical night out—until you notice them.

Standing at the bar, two men catch your eye, and you can’t help but be intrigued. The first one, with a dark shirt that accentuates his muscular frame, locks eyes with you. His confident, almost smug smile sends a jolt of excitement through you. He nods in your direction, a gesture that feels both inviting and a little challenging. You feel your curiosity piqued, wondering what his story might be.

Then, your gaze shifts to the man beside him. He's quite the contrast—tall and lanky, with a mess of curls that look both effortless and charming. His hands are tucked into his pockets, and there's something almost endearingly shy about the way he glances around, seemingly unaware of how handsome he is.

Without overthinking it, you flash them a smile, feeling a flutter of anticipation as you consider walking over. Tonight just got a whole lot more interesting.

—

Spencer noticed you smiling in their direction and concluded that you must be interested in Derek. After all, why wouldn’t you be? Derek is charming, bold, and magnetic in a way that Spencer has always admired. As these thoughts swirl around in Spencer’s head, he barely notices that Derek’s focus isn’t on the assumption Spencer has made. Derek is watching you closely, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.

When Derek catches your eye, he gives you a confident nod and curls his finger, motioning for you to come closer. The gesture is smooth, almost effortless, and your curiosity piques even more. You glance back at your friends, who are already giggling and nudging you, urging you to go for it. With a final encouraging smile from your friends, you take a deep breath and stride towards the two men, the soft fabric of your black dress swaying with each step.

As you stopped a few feet away from the two men, you could see Derek's eyes light up, clearly relishing the situation. There was an air of confidence in his stance, a kind of smug satisfaction as if he knew exactly how things were going to play out. You took in both men with a quick, playful glance before letting your gaze rest on the one who had called you over.

"You called?" you said with a flirtatious tilt to your voice, a knowing smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah, mama, I did," Derek responded smoothly, his laughter rolling off his tongue. "Your hand looks a little empty. Do you need a drink to fill it?"

You gasped in mock surprise, widening your eyes. "You're so right! I do need a drink."

"Well, lucky for you, my friend here’s wallet is a bit too heavy," Derek chuckled, giving Spencer a friendly clap on the shoulder. The action jolted Spencer out of the daze he had been stuck in, lost in his own thoughts.

"What?" Spencer stammered, clearly taken off guard by the sudden attention.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction. Turning your gaze to Spencer, you offered him a polite smile, saying, "I think your friend is trying to set you up, but don’t worry, you don’t have to buy me a drink. I’m a big girl."

With that, you started to turn away, not wanting to become a pawn in whatever game these two might be playing. But just as you took your first step, Spencer's voice, tinged with sudden urgency, called out.

"Wait!"

You paused, turning back to him with a curious raise of your eyebrow. "Yes?"

Spencer took a breath, gathering his nerves before saying, "I would like to buy you a drink, if you’ll let me."

"Not because your friend said so?" you asked, narrowing your eyes playfully.

"No," Spencer replied with a soft, genuine smile that made your heart flutter just a little. "His peer pressure stopped working on me years ago."

Derek scoffed at that, shaking his head with a smirk. "It’s not peer pressure, it’s called being a wingman."

You couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips as you turned to Derek with a teasing tone. "Can I give you a friendly word of advice from a young stranger?"

"Uh oh," Derek said, raising an eyebrow but nodding with a grin. "Sure, sweetheart."

"If someone is interested in us, they should talk to us themselves, not have their friends do it for them," you said smugly, crossing your arms with a playful tilt to your head.

Derek huffed in a teasing manner, clearly amused by your boldness. "I get a lecture for trying to help a friend?"

"This is nowhere near a lecture, sweetheart," you retorted, throwing his pet name back at him with a wink.

Spencer, now more at ease, tried to suppress a laugh, clearly entertained by the exchange. He watched the scene unfold, a small, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Derek raised his hands in surrender, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Feisty… she's all yours, Reid."

"Actually, he’s all mine," you corrected with a mischievous glint in your eye. "Go wingman for yourself."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "I like you."

"I'm warming up to you," you teased back, the banter flowing easily now. Your eyes flicked to your group of friends before landing on one of them. You pointed subtly. "You see that girl right there? Her name’s Jade."

Derek followed your gesture, his gaze landing on the friend you indicated. "Yeah?"

"She’s going to love you. Go get her, tiger," you said with a wink.

Derek's grin grew wider as he fist-bumped you, clearly impressed and slightly amazed by your confidence. "You’re something else, you know that?"

You laughed lightly, the sound warm and genuine. "I’ve been told."

As Derek made his way over to your friend, you turned your full attention back to Spencer. The atmosphere between you felt a bit more intimate now, the tension having shifted into something lighter, something promising. Spencer gave you a shy but genuine smile, one that hinted at the quiet confidence beneath his surface.

"So," you said, your voice softer now as you leaned in just slightly, "how about that drink?"

Spencer’s eyes lit up, and for the first time that night, he felt completely at ease. "I’d love to."

—

After getting your drinks, you glanced around the club, searching for a quieter spot away from the thumping bass and flashing lights of the dance floor. You spotted a cozy booth nestled in a corner, offering just enough privacy for conversation without being too far removed from the lively energy of the room. You led Spencer over, and he followed, still processing the fact that you were genuinely interested in spending time with him.

As you slid into the booth, Spencer expected you to take the seat across from him, but to his pleasant surprise, you scooted in right next to him. The proximity sent a thrill through him, but he quickly reminded himself to stay cool. You were close enough that he could smell the faint hint of your perfume—something sweet and subtle that matched the playful spark in your eyes.

You turned to him with a grin, breaking the silence. "Alright, handsome. First things first, what is your name, age, and social security number?"

Spencer blinked, caught off guard by the sudden, playful interrogation. Then, before he could stop himself, he let out a genuine laugh, the sound ringing with surprise and amusement. "Spencer Reid, 27, and not a chance."

"Fair, fair," you giggled, pleased to have made him laugh so easily. "Well, Spencer Reid, I’m Y/N Johnson, 23, and I love sarcasm."

Spencer chuckled again, there was something about you—your easy confidence, the way you didn’t take things too seriously—that was incredibly refreshing. He found himself smiling more than he had in a while, feeling more relaxed than he usually did in these situations.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," Spencer said, his voice warm and sincere. "I have to say, that’s one of the most efficient icebreakers I’ve encountered."

You shrugged with a playful grin. "Why waste time, right? Besides, you can learn a lot about someone based on their reaction to sarcasm."

"Oh, really?" Spencer’s tone was light, teasing. "And what did you learn about me?"

"Hmm…" You pretended to think for a moment, tapping your chin dramatically. "I learned that you’ve got a great laugh, and that you’re not easily intimidated. Both good signs."

Spencer felt a warmth spread through his chest at your words. "Well, I’ve learned that you’re quick on your feet and that you know how to keep a conversation interesting."

You gave him a small, appreciative nod, enjoying the back-and-forth banter. "I try my best."

Spencer smiled, but you could see the slight hesitation in his eyes as if he wasn’t quite sure where to take the conversation next. It was as if he was cautious about saying the wrong thing, unsure of the next step. His fingers fidgeted slightly with the edge of his glass, betraying the nervous energy he was trying to keep under wraps.

Sensing his uncertainty, you decided to take the reins, easing the pressure off him. With a playful lilt in your voice, you asked, "So, do you often have your friend hit on women for you?"

Spencer’s eyes widened in alarm, and he quickly shook his head, his curls bouncing with the motion. "No, no," he blurted out, clearly flustered. "Actually, that has never happened before. Derek—uh—he’s just… well, he’s always been a bit more confident than I am in these situations."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his earnest response, finding his honesty endearing. There was something incredibly refreshing about how straightforward he was, even in his nervousness. The way he fidgeted slightly with the edge of his sleeve, his eyes occasionally darting up to meet yours before quickly looking away, only added to the charm of the moment.

“Well, I happen to think you’re doing just fine,” you said with a reassuring smile, hoping to ease some of the tension you sensed in him.

Spencer blushed, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink as he looked down at the table, clearly touched by your words. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost as if he was unsure whether he deserved the compliment.

You leaned in slightly, wanting to make sure he heard the sincerity in your next words. “And for future reference, even if you’re awkward, it’s always more appealing to hear right from the man himself.” You gave him a playful wink, trying to lighten the mood.

But Spencer seemed to catch on to the phrase “future reference” in a way you hadn’t intended. The way his eyes flickered with a hint of worry, the way his fingers tightened around his cup—he was clearly picking up on something more. It was as if he thought you were already planning on not seeing him again, and the idea unsettled him.

“Noted,” he replied, his tone a touch more subdued than before, though he tried to mask it with a polite smile. But the way he said it, you could tell he didn’t like the sound of those words, like he feared this might be your first and last date.

You felt a pang of guilt, realizing how he might have misunderstood your comment. The last thing you wanted was for Spencer to think you were already planning an exit strategy. You leaned forward slightly, your voice softening as you tried to lighten the moment.

“I mean, how odd would it be if you sent that man to talk to me again?” you joked, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Spencer's lips curled into a genuine smile, a light chuckle escaping him as he snorted in amusement. “I don’t think that will be a problem,” he said, his eyes twinkling with humor. “It looks like he’s gotten quite cozy with your friend.”

Curious, you followed his gaze across the room to where Derek and Jade were on the dance floor. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, a smirk tugging at your lips as you watched the two of them swaying together, their bodies close and their movements almost synchronized. Jade was laughing at something Derek had whispered in her ear, clearly enjoying herself, while Derek’s hand rested comfortably on her waist, pulling her closer with each step.

“Well, would you look at that,” you murmured, a knowing smile spreading across your face as you turned back to Spencer. “Looks like they’re having a good time.”

“Apparently so,” Spencer agreed, the tension between the two of you easing as the conversation shifted. He seemed more relaxed now, his earlier nervousness fading into the background. The sight of his friend, normally so confident and assured, now completely absorbed in Jade’s company, seemed to have brought a sense of camaraderie to the moment.

You smiled warmly at Spencer, feeling the connection between you both grow stronger with each passing second. “I guess that means you’re stuck with me for the rest of the night.”

Spencer’s eyes met yours, his expression softening. “I think I’m okay with that.”

—

You and Spencer chatted for a bit longer, the conversation flowing easily between you as the evening wore on. You each had one more drink, the atmosphere growing even more relaxed as the warmth of the alcohol settled in. Across the room, Derek and Jade were still tearing it up on the dance floor, their energy seemingly endless as they moved to the beat, drawing attention from nearly everyone around them.

Spencer couldn’t help but smile as he watched them, a small, amused laugh escaping him when Derek dipped Jade dramatically, earning a playful squeal from her. You found yourself smiling too, feeling the infectious energy from their joy.

After a moment, you turned your attention back to Spencer, a curious thought crossing your mind. You leaned in closer, your eyes sparkling with playful curiosity. “Tell me, Spencer,” you began, your voice soft yet teasing.

He looked at you, mirroring your movement by leaning in as well. “Mhm?” he hummed in response, his gaze fixed on yours, clearly intrigued by whatever question you had in mind.

“Do you dance?” you asked, your tone carrying a hint of mischief.

Spencer’s eyebrows raised slightly, a small, almost sheepish smile playing on his lips as he considered your question. “What do you think?” he replied, his voice light but carrying a note of curiosity.

You tilted your head, pretending to scrutinize him for a moment before answering. “I think you’re secretly really good, but you don’t want anyone to know,” you said with a grin, your voice full of playful certainty.

Spencer blinked in surprise, a chuckle escaping him as he shook his head in disbelief. “Wow, you’re good,” he admitted, clearly impressed by your deduction. Then, with a teasing smile, he asked, “Are you sure you’re not a profiler?”

You blinked back at him, genuinely confused by the term. “A what?” you asked, furrowing your brow as you tried to make sense of it.

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly as he realized you didn’t catch the reference, having told you he worked for the FBI but not what he did. His nervousness kicked in, and before he could stop himself, he launched into a rambling explanation.

“Oh, uh, profiling, it’s what we do. We study criminal behavior, analyze patterns, and use psychological principles to create profiles of offenders, you know, to help catch them. It’s all about reading people, understanding their motivations, predicting their next moves based on subtle cues and details, even things they might not be consciously aware of. It’s kind of like… well, I guess it’s sort of like Sherlock Holmes in a way, but more rooted in psychology than deduction. Not that deduction isn’t involved, because it is, but it’s more about interpreting behaviors in a broader context, like understanding why someone would commit a crime rather than just how they did it. So, when I said ‘profiler,’ I meant that you’re good at reading people, like how we do when we’re on a case, but—”

He paused, realizing he had been speaking faster and faster, his words tumbling out in an anxious rush. He blinked a few times, his expression shifting to one of mild embarrassment as he realized he had been rambling.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “I tend to do that sometimes.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his explanation, finding his enthusiasm and the way he got lost in his own thoughts utterly endearing. As he tried to regain his composure, you leaned in slightly, your voice playful and teasing. “Do what? Share your super sexy brain with the world? If anything, you should be apologizing for not doing it sooner.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, his breath catching slightly as your words registered. He was clearly taken aback, not at all expecting you to say something like that. His cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words, which was a rare occurrence for him.

“Uh… I… I—” he stammered, trying to form a coherent response. His mind raced, searching for the right thing to say, but the unexpected compliment had him completely flustered. He wasn’t used to people describing his intelligence in such a, well, flattering way, and it was clear he didn’t know how to handle it.

You chuckled softly, enjoying his reaction. There was something incredibly endearing about seeing someone so brilliant and composed be thrown off balance by a simple compliment. “What?” you asked with a grin, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not used to people complimenting your brain?”

Spencer finally managed to regain some of his composure, though the blush still lingered on his cheeks. “Not quite like that,” he admitted, his voice a little shaky but filled with a shy kind of gratitude. “Most people don’t really… put it that way.”

“Well, I did,” you replied, your tone sincere but still light, though the playful glint in your eyes remained. “And I meant it. You’ve got a sexy mind, Spencer.”

Spencer’s blush deepened, and he stammered out a soft, “Th–thank you,” clearly still trying to process the unexpected praise. His fingers fidgeted nervously with the edge of his sleeve, betraying just how flustered he was.

You leaned in a little closer, your smile warm and kind as you decided to push him just a bit further. “I don’t want to fully break you,” you said, your voice dropping to a more teasing whisper, “but you do know that all”—you made a small gesture that encompassed his entire being—“of you is sexy. Yeah?”

Spencer’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he seemed completely speechless. It was as if your words had short-circuited his brain. He blinked rapidly, trying to grasp onto something, anything, that would allow him to form a coherent response. His mouth opened slightly, then closed, as if he was unsure what to say or how to respond to such a straightforward compliment.

“I… um…” he managed to get out, his voice barely above a whisper. His heart was racing, and he felt like the room had suddenly grown warmer. The way you looked at him, with such sincerity and a touch of playful confidence, left him feeling both incredibly flattered and slightly overwhelmed.

Seeing his reaction, you couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound gentle and affectionate. “You don’t have to say anything,” you assured him, giving his arm a light, reassuring squeeze. “Just… you know, let it sink in.”

Spencer nodded, still at a loss for words, but his expression softened, and a shy smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He felt a strange mix of emotions—embarrassment, gratitude, disbelief—but above all, he felt seen in a way he hadn’t experienced before. And that, more than anything, left him feeling something he wasn’t entirely accustomed to: confident.

“Okay,” he finally said, his voice steadying just a bit. “I’ll, um… I’ll try to remember that.”

“Good,” you replied with a wink, letting the moment settle between you both. The atmosphere between you shifted slightly, the air charged with playfulness and something a bit more electric. “So, sexy, care to dance? Prove me right?”

Spencer blinked, taken aback by the invitation. He managed a small smile, his nervousness evident as he replied, “I will absolutely prove you wrong, but if you want to dance, I will.”

You grinned at his response, appreciating his willingness to step outside his comfort zone, even if he was convinced he’d mess it up. “That’s what I like to hear. Let’s go, big boy,” you said with a playful nudge.

Spencer felt his heart race again, the term "big boy" throwing him for a loop. He had never been referred to as "big" in his life. Skinny, sure. Flagpole, string bean, pipe cleaner—all the nicknames he had endured growing up flashed through his mind. But "big"? That was new, and it made him feel something unfamiliar but oddly comforting.

As the two of you made your way to the dance floor, you caught Jade’s eye and sent her a wink, a silent message that you had things under control. She responded with a knowing grin, clearly approving of the way the evening was unfolding. Meanwhile, Derek gave Spencer a subtle nod and a smirk, a silent acknowledgment that his plan to nudge Spencer out of his shell was working. Spencer was slowly coming to realize that you were doing just that—breaking him out of his shell, piece by piece, and he wasn’t sure if he was more terrified or exhilarated by it.

Once you reached the floor, you turned to face Spencer, craning your neck to look up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. He was so tall, and the way you had to tilt your head back slightly to meet his eyes made him feel a little self-conscious, but you didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you looked like you were enjoying every second of it.

“You haven’t done this before, have you?” you asked, your tone gentle, not at all condescending. You just wanted to confirm what you already suspected.

Spencer shook his head, his lips curving into a shy smile. “No, never really had the opportunity,” he admitted, his voice a little quieter, almost as if he was embarrassed to confess it.

You nodded in understanding, your eyes softening as you reached out to bridge the gap between you both. “Can I touch you?” you asked, your voice calm and reassuring.

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise, his mind racing at the sudden question. “What?” he blurted out, his eyes practically bulging out of his head as he processed what you’d just said.

You bit back a laugh, realizing how your words might have come across. “Can I move your hands?” you rephrased, your tone gentle and patient.

Relief washed over Spencer, and he quickly nodded, eager to follow your lead. You carefully guided his hands to your hips, the warmth of your body seeping through the fabric of your dress as you placed them just where you wanted them. Then, with a soft smile, you wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers brushing through the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Is this okay?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, wanting to make sure he was comfortable.

Spencer swallowed hard, his pulse quickening at the proximity between you both. “Yeah,” he managed to say, though his voice wavered slightly. “But, uh, this isn’t… this isn’t really dancing.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his comment, your eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, I’m sorry, dance expert,” you teased, your tone light and playful. “Would you like me to turn around and put my ass on you? I figured you were more of a gentleman.”

Spencer’s face turned a deep shade of red, the color creeping all the way up to his ears as he realized what you were implying. The idea of you dancing like that—well, it was almost too much for him to handle. “N-no, that’s… I mean, I’m… I’m okay with this,” he stammered, his voice barely audible as he tried to keep his composure.

You smiled at his flustered response, clearly enjoying how easy it was to get under his skin. “Good,” you said softly, moving your hips slightly in time with the music, coaxing him to follow your lead. “Because I like this too.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was new territory for him, but with you guiding him, he felt like maybe—just maybe—he could manage to survive the night without dying of embarrassment.

With the music providing a clear rhythm, something easy to follow, you began moving your hips under Spencer’s hands, encouraging him to feel the beat along with you. He was standing still, his posture tense as he tried to figure out what to do. His eyes darted around nervously, his uncertainty palpable. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, overthinking every little movement. It was both endearing and a little heartbreaking.

You smiled warmly, finding his awkwardness incredibly charming, and gently placed your hands on his waist, guiding his hips to sway in time with yours. “Just let loose,” you coaxed, your voice soft and reassuring as you tried to ease his anxiety. “Trust me, no one cares what you’re doing.”

Spencer’s gaze shifted briefly to where Derek was, his face scrunching slightly in concern. “Derek will,” he mumbled, his voice tinged with the worry of being judged by his friend.

You chuckled softly, understanding where he was coming from. Derek was known for his confidence, especially on the dance floor, and it made sense that Spencer would feel self-conscious in comparison. “Do you care what he thinks?” you asked, your tone gentle, wanting to reassure him.

“A little, yeah,” Spencer admitted, his honesty coming through in a way that made you want to protect him from those insecurities.

You thought for a moment, then an idea sparked, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. “Okay… what do you say we give him a show then?”

Spencer blinked, his eyes widening slightly as he processed your suggestion. “Ok–okay,” he stammered, not entirely sure what you had in mind but trusting you nonetheless.

With that, you slid your hands back up around his neck, pulling his head closer to yours so that your foreheads were almost touching. Spencer’s breath hitched as he felt the intimacy of the moment, his senses overwhelmed by your proximity. Before he could fully grasp what was happening, you straddled one of his thighs, your movements fluid and confident as you began to grind your hips, dancing to the beat with a natural grace that Spencer could hardly believe.

To anyone watching, it was clear you were putting on a show, the kind that would definitely catch Derek’s attention. But for Spencer? His mind was reeling. The sensation of your body moving against his, the warmth of your skin, the way your fingers played with the curls at the base of his neck—it was all too much and yet not enough at the same time. He could barely think, his brain struggling to keep up with the flood of sensations.

His hands tightened slightly on your hips, his body instinctively following your lead as he began to move with you. The nervous tension in him started to melt away, replaced by awe and disbelief. The music, the lights, the feel of you so close—it was a heady combination, and Spencer found himself getting lost in it, the world around him fading as he focused solely on you.

And then, in a moment of pure instinct, Spencer leaned in just a bit closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispered, “I think… I think I’m getting the hang of this.”

You smiled, feeling a thrill at the progress he was making, and whispered back, “I knew you would, sexy.” Spencer’s heart skipped a beat at the compliment, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a surge of confidence.

All of a sudden, you heard a loud whoop behind you, followed by a familiar man’s voice calling out, “Yeah, Reid!” The unmistakable cheer belonged to Derek, his excitement evident as he celebrated Spencer’s unexpected moment in the spotlight.

Spencer chuckled softly in your ear, the warm sound sending a delicious shiver down your spine and making your pulse throb all over your body. The sensation was intoxicating, a blend of thrill and anticipation. “It’s working,” he murmured, his breath brushing against your skin in a way that made your heart race even faster.

“Mhm,” you breathed out, your voice catching slightly as the pleasure of your own movements began to consume you. The rhythm of the music, the feel of his body against yours—it was all too good. “Maybe… maybe we can step it up?” The words came out almost as a whisper, your breath hitching as you felt the heat between you both intensify.

Spencer’s lips were so close to your ear that you could feel his curiosity in the way his breath hitched. “How?” he asked, genuinely intrigued, his voice full of anticipation.

Without hesitating, you let your hand slide up into Spencer’s hair, your fingers tangling gently in his soft curls. You tugged him back slightly, creating just enough space between you so that you could look into his eyes. The sight of his flushed face and wide, curious eyes made your pulse quicken. Then, with a boldness fueled by the moment, you leaned in and planted a wet, lingering kiss on his plump lips.

Spencer froze for the briefest of moments, his mind catching up with what was happening. But it took only seconds before he responded, his body instinctively leaning into yours. One of his hands slid from your hip to cup your face, the touch gentle yet firm as he held you close, not wanting the kiss to end. His lips moved against yours with surprising tenderness, a mix of hesitancy and eagerness that made your heart flutter.

The world around you seemed to disappear as you melted into the kiss, the music, the lights, even Derek’s cheers fading into the background. It was just the two of you, connected in a way that was both thrilling and unexpected. Spencer, normally so reserved and cautious, was now fully engaged, his lips sliding against yours with increasing confidence.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and flushed, you could see the wonder in Spencer’s eyes, as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. His hand still cradled your face, his thumb brushing your cheek gently as he tried to steady his breathing.

“That… that was…” Spencer started, his voice hushed, almost reverent.

“Yeah,” you whispered back, your lips curling into a satisfied smile. “It was.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, both caught in the lingering warmth of the kiss. Then, slowly, Spencer’s lips turned up into a shy, but undeniably pleased, smile. “I think we definitely gave them a show,” he said, his voice tinged with pride.

“Can I say something… bold, Spencer?” you asked, your voice low and a little hesitant. You bit your lip, feeling your heart race as you waited for his response, wondering if you were about to cross a line or take things to a new level.

Spencer looked at you, his gaze curious and open, though there was a hint of nervousness in his eyes. “Okay,” he replied, his voice soft but steady, clearly bracing himself for whatever you were about to say.

You took a deep breath, leaning in just a little closer so that your lips were near his ear. “What I want to do now,” you began, your voice a sultry whisper, “really isn’t for public eyes.”

The words hung in the air between you, charged with anticipation. Spencer’s breath caught, his eyes widening slightly as he processed what you’d just said. The implications of your statement sent a thrill through him, and for a moment, he was rendered speechless, his mind racing to catch up.

He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as he tried to formulate a response. “Oh,” he managed to say, his voice a little shaky but full of intrigued curiosity. His mind reeled with the possibilities, and he found himself struggling to maintain his composure. The thought of what you might want to do, something private, something just for the two of you, was both exhilarating and terrifying.

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your expression playful yet sincere. “So,” you said, letting your hands slide down his chest slowly, “how about we get out of here?”

Spencer nodded, the decision coming more easily than he expected. “Yeah,” he said, his voice a little more confident this time. “Let’s go.”

—

“Y/N…” Spencer groaned, his voice strained as you pushed him against the door of his apartment, the sudden impact sending a shiver down his spine. His hands instinctively gripped your waist, trying to ground himself as the intensity of the moment took over.

You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, finding his responsiveness incredibly alluring. “You’re so vocal,” you teased, your breath hot against his neck as you pressed your body closer to his, relishing the way he seemed to melt under your touch.

Spencer’s cheeks flushed, embarrassment and desire flooding through him. “Is—is that okay?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly as he struggled to maintain control. He wasn’t used to letting go like this, to allowing himself to be so openly expressive, and part of him worried he might be too much, too intense.

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your gaze filled with both reassurance and desire. “Okay?” you repeated, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “It’s so hot, Spencer.”

His breath hitched at your words, the approval and encouragement sending a rush of heat through his body. Before he could respond, you leaned in and bit down on his collarbone, the sharp sensation making him whine high in his throat, a sound that was as surprising to him as it was to you.

The noise was raw, unfiltered, and it sent a jolt of electricity through you. You felt him tense under your bite, his hands tightening on your waist as he gasped, the sound vibrating through his chest. It was clear that every nerve in his body was on high alert, and the way he reacted to your touch only fueled your own desire.

You soothed the bite with your tongue, your lips brushing against his skin as you whispered, “You have no idea how much that turns me on.”

Spencer’s breath shuddered, his mind spinning as he tried to process the pleasure and the overwhelming intimacy of the moment. He had never felt anything like this before—this combination of need, connection, and pure, unadulterated desire. And the fact that it was with you made it all the more intoxicating.

He let out another soft groan, his hands moving down to your ass as he pulled you closer, his lips searching for yours. When he found them, the kiss was deep, hungry, and filled with a newfound confidence.

“Mmm, yeah, take what you want,” you mumbled against his lips, the words muffled by the intensity of the kiss. You could feel the desperation in Spencer’s touch, the way his hands gripped you tighter as if afraid you might slip away. His breath hitched, and he let out a pitiful moan that made your pulse race even faster.

“Oh god,” he moaned, the sound almost broken, as if he was struggling to keep himself together under the weight of his desire.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes, searching for that flicker of certainty. “Do you know what you want, baby?” you asked softly, your voice a soothing contrast to the heat between you. “Have you done this before?”

Spencer nodded, his face flushed with arousal and nerves. “A few times,” he admitted, his voice trembling with the effort to stay composed.

But the moment you started to pull back, he panicked, his eyes widening in fear that he might have said something wrong. He shook his head rapidly, his grip on you tightening as if trying to keep you close. “No, please—” he started, his voice laced with anxiety.

“Calm down, Spencer,” you said gently, running your hands soothingly over his arms, trying to reassure him. “I’m not going anywhere.” Your words and the gentle touch seemed to help, and you could see some of the tension leave his shoulders.

He took a deep, steadying breath, closing his eyes for a moment as if trying to gather his thoughts. When he opened them again, there was a raw honesty in his gaze that made your heart skip a beat. “I really want you,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with so much need that it made your knees weak.

“How do you want me?” you asked, your lips brushing against his neck as you resumed your kisses, eager to hear him say it, to know what he needed.

“On top of me,” he breathed out, the words escaping like a prayer, as if it was all he could manage to articulate in that moment.

Your breath hitched at his admission, the boldness of it sending a thrill through you. “Fuck,” you whispered, the urgency in your voice matching the fire in your veins. “Bed, now.”

Without another word, Spencer grabbed your hand, leading you toward the bedroom. His normally methodical mind was lost in the haze of desire, and all he could think about was getting you into that bed, where he could have you the way he wanted. The way you both wanted.

Clothes were gone within the blink of an eye, a flurry of movement and heated touches that left you both bare and exposed to each other. Spencer barely had time to take in the sight of you, to truly appreciate the way your skin glowed in the dim light of the room, before the need between you both took over. Before he knew it, he was beneath you, and all thoughts of slowing down evaporated as the intensity of the moment consumed him.

“Oh!” Spencer groaned, the sound deep and raw as he felt the overwhelming sensation of you sinking down on him. The way you moved around him, the rhythm of your bodies perfectly in sync, made his head spin, and he couldn’t stop the desperate noises escaping his lips as he thrust up into you, his need for you undeniable.

“You poor thing, haven’t been touched in so long, huh?” you taunted affectionately, your voice a blend of tenderness and teasing as you watched Spencer’s reaction. His vulnerability was laid bare before you, and it only made the moment between you even more intense.

“Nuh uh,” Spencer managed to shake his head, his mouth open, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold on, to keep from losing control too soon. The pleasure was overwhelming, and every fiber of his being was focused on you, on this moment, on the sensation of finally being with someone who cared.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, your hand gently cupping his face, your thumb brushing across his cheek. “Look at me.”

Spencer forced his eyes open, blinking a few times before they locked onto yours. The instant his gaze met yours, he felt a swell of emotion in his chest, a deep, overwhelming sense of connection and affection that nearly took his breath away. But then, as his eyes traveled down your body, taking in the sight of you above him, that swell of emotion shifted—traveling lower, pooling in his stomach, the intensity of it making him realize just how close he was to the edge.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out, his voice strained with both apology and desperation as he fought against the inevitable.

“Sorry? For what?” you asked, genuinely puzzled, your brows furrowing in concern as you tried to understand his sudden worry.

But before he could respond, before he could explain, Spencer couldn’t hold back any longer. The build-up had been too much, the combination of physical and emotional intensity pushing him past his limit. His entire body tensed beneath you, his grip on your hips tightening as he came, a choked gasp escaping his lips as the release hit him harder than he ever could have anticipated.

For a moment, he was lost in the sensation, his mind going blank as the pleasure washed over him in waves. And then, as the intensity began to ebb, Spencer’s eyes fluttered open again, his face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and relief.

“Oh my god… this is so humiliating,” Spencer mumbled, his voice muffled as he turned his head into the pillow, trying to hide the deep blush that spread across his cheeks. The embarrassment of finishing too soon, combined with the overwhelming emotions of the moment, made him feel exposed in a way he hadn’t expected.

But before he could fully retreat into his own self-consciousness, you began moving again, your hips rolling with a deliberate, confident rhythm. The sudden jolt of sensation made him gasp, his body arching slightly as the oversensitivity hit him like a shockwave. “Ahhhh,” he whined, the sound high and desperate as he gripped the sheets beneath him, barely able to process what was happening. “What are you doing?”

“Finishing,” you replied with a smirk, your voice laced with both determination and playful confidence. You didn’t plan on stopping until you reached your peak, and you were more than happy to take Spencer along for the ride. The way he reacted to your touch, the combination of pleasure and overstimulation evident in his every breath, only spurred you on.

Spencer’s mind was a whirlwind of sensation and emotion. The intensity of your movements, the way you were so unapologetically taking control, left him dizzy and overwhelmed in the best possible way. It was almost too much, yet he couldn’t bring himself to ask you to stop. In fact, with every passing second, he found himself sinking deeper into the experience, surrendering completely to the pleasure you were giving him.

As he watched you above him, your expression one of focused desire, something clicked inside him. The way you took charge, the way you seemed to know exactly what you wanted and how to get it—it was exhilarating. In that moment, despite the oversensitivity, despite the embarrassment he felt earlier, Spencer realized something that sent a jolt of warmth through his chest: he might be in love.

The thought was sudden, almost startling, but it was undeniable. The connection between you both, the way you made him feel—safe, desired, understood—it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. And as you moved closer to your own climax, Spencer found himself lost in you, his heart swelling with emotions he didn’t fully understand but knew were real.

When you finally reached your climax, the sound of your pleasure mixed with his soft, breathless moans, Spencer couldn’t help but watch you, completely captivated. The sight of you in that moment, powerful and radiant, made his heart race all over again, and he knew that whatever this was between you two, he wanted more of it. He wanted more of you.

—

Spencer fell asleep that night, more content than he could remember being in a long time, with you nestled comfortably in his arms. The warmth of your body pressed against his, the soft rhythm of your breathing, lulled him into the most peaceful sleep he’d had in years. It felt perfect, like a moment he wanted to stretch into forever.

But when Spencer woke up, the first thing he noticed was how the space beside him was empty, the warmth of your presence long gone. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the dim light filtering through the curtains. As his gaze drifted around the room, he found you sitting at the edge of the bed, your shoulders hunched inward, your body trembling ever so slightly. Spencer's heart clenched in his chest, worry immediately overtaking him. Were you crying?

“Hey, hey,” Spencer murmured, his voice soft and laced with concern as he reached out to rub a comforting hand across your back. “Are you okay?”

You turned to face him, and to Spencer’s surprise, instead of tear-streaked cheeks, he was met with a smile—a somewhat bewildered, almost amused smile. “Uh, yeah,” you replied, your voice a bit shaky but clearly not from sadness.

Spencer’s brow furrowed, confusion settling in. “What’s going on?” he asked gently, his hand still resting on your back, offering warmth and support.

You held up a small framed photo, one Spencer hadn’t noticed you holding before. The frame was simple, with a picture of the team gathered in David Rossi’s kitchen, all smiles and laughter, taken during one of those famous cooking lessons that always ended with full stomachs and happy memories. Spencer’s confusion only deepened as he noticed the way you were staring at the photo.

“Why do you have a picture with my dad?” you asked, your tone light, but the question itself was heavy, full of implications that Spencer couldn’t quite grasp yet.

Spencer blinked, absolutely baffled by your words. “Your…dad?” he repeated slowly, as if trying to make sure he heard you correctly.

You nodded, your eyes flickering between Spencer and the photo. “Yeah, David Rossi. How do you know him?”

For a moment, Spencer was at a complete loss for words. He took the frame from your hands, staring down at the familiar image of the team—his family—and suddenly, the reality of your words hit him like a ton of bricks. David Rossi…your father?

Spencer swallowed, his mind racing as he tried to reconcile this new information with everything he knew about you and Rossi. “David Rossi is your father?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, still trying to wrap his head around the idea.

You nodded again, your smile a little wider now, though still tinged with the same disbelief that Spencer was feeling. “Yeah, he is,” you confirmed softly, almost as if you were still trying to process it yourself. “How do you know him?”

Spencer’s thoughts raced as he tried to find the right words to explain, his mind buzzing with a thousand questions of his own. But for now, he knew there was only one thing he could say. “He’s…he’s my friend. My colleague. We work together at the BAU.”

Your eyes widened at that, clearly not expecting that answer. “The BAU?” you echoed, your voice tinged with surprise. “As in, the Behavioral Analysis Unit?”

Spencer nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah…that’s where I work. With Rossi.”

You both sat there in silence for a moment, the weight of the revelation hanging heavy in the air. Spencer could see the gears turning in your mind, just as they were in his. There were so many things to unpack, so many questions left unanswered, but right now, all he could focus on was the fact that somehow, against all odds, your paths had crossed in a way neither of you could have ever predicted.

“Oh!” you suddenly exclaimed, hopping in place as if the realization had struck you like a bolt of lightning.

Spencer, startled by your outburst, nearly jumped out of his skin. “What? What is it?” he asked, his eyes wide with alarm.

“That’s why your job sounded so familiar last night!” you continued, excitement bubbling in your voice. “You didn’t say you worked for the BAU, though. And, well, I was more focused on your lips, honestly. That’s so funny!”

Spencer felt his cheeks heat up at your words, his mind replaying the events of last night. But just as quickly, the color drained from his face as another, more terrifying thought took hold. “Oh god,” he muttered, a cold dread settling in his stomach.

“Now what?” you asked, your brows furrowing in concern at the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“I slept with Rossi’s daughter,” Spencer whispered, his voice laced with horror as if he were confessing a crime.

“Oh…” you replied, the weight of his words sinking in. “Yeah, yeah, you did.”

“He’s going to kill me,” Spencer said, his voice rising with panic. He could already imagine Rossi’s stern gaze, the questioning, the inevitable lecture, and then…death. There was no way he was getting out of this alive.

“More than likely, yes,” you agreed with a playful grin, clearly enjoying the moment a bit more than Spencer was.

“How do we stop that from happening?” Spencer asked, his mind racing for a solution, any solution, that didn’t involve Rossi burying him six feet under.

You tilted your head thoughtfully before offering a lighthearted suggestion. “Uh, you could take me on a date?” you proposed, a twinkle in your eye. “Then I can tell him all about the charming man I met at the…library!”

Spencer blinked at you, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. “The library?” he echoed, half in disbelief, half in awe of your quick thinking.

“Yes, the library,” you repeated with a playful nod. “Where all respectable, intelligent people meet. I’m sure he’ll approve.”

Spencer couldn’t help but crack a smile, despite the lingering fear gnawing at him. “You think that’ll work?”

You shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “It’s worth a shot. Besides, it’s better than the alternative, right?”

Spencer let out a nervous laugh, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right. A date sounds…much better.”

“Great!” you said, your smile widening as you leaned in a little closer. “So, Spencer Reid, how about that date?”

Spencer’s heart fluttered at the way you looked at him, the tension from moments before slowly easing. “I’d love to take you on a date,” he replied, his voice softening as he met your gaze.

“Good,” you said with a satisfied grin. “Because I’d love to go on one.”

As the two of you exchanged smiles, the reality of the situation seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the prospect of something new, something exciting. And while the thought of facing Rossi still loomed in the back of Spencer’s mind, for now, he was content to focus on you—the charming, intelligent woman who had just turned his world upside down in the most unexpected way.

—

“Y/N, darling, what are you doing here?” Rossi’s voice carried a note of surprise as he spotted you walking into the bar where the team was gathered for one of their usual outings. His brow arched in curiosity, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You approached the group with a calm but determined expression, though your heart was pounding in your chest. You glanced at Spencer for a moment, offering him a small, reassuring smile before turning back to your father. “Well, Dad… I actually wanted to tell you something,” you began, taking a steadying breath. “I thought it might be a good time to let you know that Spencer and I have started seeing each other.”

“What?” The collective exclamation from the team echoed through the bar, their voices a mix of surprise and intrigue. All eyes were suddenly on you and Spencer, the weight of their attention palpable.

Rossi, however, didn’t seem nearly as shocked as the others. In fact, a knowing smile slowly spread across his face, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he had already pieced together the puzzle before you even spoke. “I see,” he said with a calm, measured tone, the smile never leaving his face. “How did you two meet?”

Before either of you could think of a more elaborate lie, you and Spencer both blurted out at the same time, “At the library.”

The synchronized response was so sudden and so in sync that it left no room for doubt—except perhaps about how rehearsed it sounded. Derek, who had been quietly observing from the side (and who knew the truth), couldn’t hold back his reaction. A loud snort escaped him, followed by a burst of laughter as he leaned back in his seat, clearly amused by the entire situation.

“Yeah, sure you did,” Derek managed between laughs, shaking his head in disbelief.

Spencer’s face flushed with embarrassment, but he held his ground, offering a weak nod. “It’s true!” he insisted, though the faint crack in his voice didn’t help his case.

You quickly jumped in, trying to salvage the situation. “Yeah, it’s true! We both… um… love reading, so it just made sense that we’d meet there.”

Rossi’s smile widened, and he nodded slowly, clearly not buying a word of it but also not pressing further—for now. “Well, I’m glad to hear you two have found something in common,” he said smoothly, raising his glass in a mock toast. “To young love and… libraries.”

The rest of the team, while still processing the news, followed suit, lifting their glasses in a chorus of chuckles and murmured congratulations. Spencer let out a breath he was holding, relieved that, at least for now, Rossi wasn’t planning his demise.

As you clinked glasses with Spencer, you couldn’t help but lean in and whisper with a playful smirk, “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

Spencer smiled back, though his eyes still held a hint of nervousness. “I just hope he never asks which library.”

You laughed softly, squeezing his hand under the table. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, Doctor Reid.”

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

tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna @charismatic-writer @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @noelliece @dreamsarebig

1K notes · View notes

catcake24 · 6 months ago

Text

Celebrations

Summary: based on the Mecha Pilot Jazz Au by @keferon and inspired by the holiday season, primarily Christmas since that is the holiday I personally celebrate every year. JazzProwl fic, mostly fluff.

From what Jazz could tell, it had been roughly a year and a half since he had been flung into space and inadvertently made first contact. So much had happened, it was hard to believe it was so little time – but at the same time, he knew how moments could stretch out into what felt like days.

He had only been outed as an alien organic a few months ago, but he had settled into a new routine. It was hard sometimes, to get all your needs in a base designed for giant robots, but he managed. He had managed for all those months even before he was found out.

But there were still things that couldn’t be recreated out in space – like the holiday celebrations.

It wasn’t anything fancy, but everyone back home that had to be on call during the holidays would put together a little party of their own. They couldn’t get smashed or do anything too stupid, but the white elephant games and helping to a light a Menorah for the first time was good enough.

It gave him the warm fuzzies, along with the worst food coma he’s ever had after eating too much holiday food from the potluck.

But out here? He didn’t even know what kind of holidays Cybertronians had, if they even did have them. He assumed they gotta, but either weren’t celebrating, or this was one of those things that they did on a much longer calendar than a human one.

It was lonely to be the only human, even surrounded by his friends, and the lack of shared holidays just made that worse.

“What’s on your processor?” Prowl asked, jarring Jazz out of his sleepy daydreaming thoughts. He had dozed off a little, and was thinking of the lights and snow from back home.

“Oh, it’s nothing Prowler,” Jazz said with a smile, “just thinking of home.”

“Hmn,” Prowl said, contemplative expression on his metal face. It was very handsome to see, when he was trying to work through a problem in his processor.

“It’s okay,” Jazz said, giving a pat to Prowl’s large hand near him. “I’m happy to be here, I just miss some things from home.”

Prowl shifted his attention away from his work, leaning on the desk. It was hard to describe just how large Prowl was sometimes, not just in physical size but presence. He could take up an entire room without even trying, drawing all the light towards him.

He was an absolute catch, even if he happened to be an alien older than dirt that could turn into a car. Sometimes Jazz wonders when the ridiculous became mundane, or how he was so lucky be able to know Prowl.

“Tell me about it,” Prowl said, looking at Jazz with a considerable expression.

Jazz hummed lightly as he thought about where to start, and decided that the holidays were a good place to start – as it was already on his mind.

“Well… around now, it would be winter, what we call the holiday season. We have so many different celebrations around that time, but my family -er, clan, always celebrated Christmas,” Jazz then looked up, considering how to explain it.

“Christmas is a festival, celebrated near the winter solstice – when the day reaches it’s shortest. There were a few different explanations for it, but it was mostly about giving eachother gifts, getting together with family, and eating food.”

“We also would string up lights across houses and buildings, since the days were so short it would light up whole streets. My folks used to walk up and down all of our neighbours, handing out sugar cookies,” he smiled to himself, remembering how his mom would bundle him up for the Washington winters and how he loved to watch all the houses with blinking lights, reflecting off the white snow.

“There were others too of course, but I still have a soft spot for Christmas,” Jazz admitted.

Prowl was listening intently, nodding along. “I see, we did similar things in Praxus before the war.”

Jazz perked up, “Really? What was it like?”

“Well… We celebrated once every half vorn. You see, Cybertron’s orbit around the sun was tilted in such a way that our city would be completely in darkness for periods of time. We celebrated the ends of those periods with a festival, where we would hang lights on the crystal gardens and bake crystal treats,” Prowl said, him having a turn at being wistful. "We all gathered together to see the sun rise after all the darkness, and we would have a day off to bask in the first new day."

Jazz smiled, “It sounds nice.”

Prowl nodded, “It was. I’m sorry you can’t attend your Christmas Festival, it sounds important to you.”

Jazz shrugged, “It’s okay, I’m happy to spend the time with you.”

Prowl smiled then, rare and soft and genuine. It couldn’t replace what Jazz missed, but it did help a little.

#mecha pilot jazz au #mecha pilot jazz #transformers au #jazzprowl #tf jazz #tf prowl #maccadam #maccadams #transformers #my writing #my fanfic #not my au #holidays #christmas #nostalgia

519 notes · View notes

atlabeth · 1 year ago

Text

too sweet

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.

a/n: me??? writing for criminal minds again out of nowhere??? what is going on. and i do not have an answer i was just in a hotch mood bc he's fine asf and i finally have the confidence to write for him here we are lol. hope u enjoy this short lil thing

wc: 2.4k

warning(s): alcohol consumption, a sexual joke or two, written in one go so might be a mess! aaron is all in his head but this is basically all fluff

Hotch can’t focus.

Mostly because he can’t stop glancing over at you. Normally it’s not a problem—he’d lost count of how many times he’d distracted himself from mounds of paperwork by meeting your eyes through his office window, often accompanied by a smile that made even his heart beat a little faster—and especially now, it shouldn’t be a problem.

You and Derek have had some kind of bet going on during the past few nights out—you didn’t believe he was as charming and suave as he claimed, and Morgan was all too happy to prove you wrong.

You bet that he couldn’t get at least five numbers every night, and come last Thursday, Morgan took the win at the end of the evening with a smile on his face. As punishment, the first round of their next night out was on you.

And that’s nice, sure. Hotch is always thankful that his team can still joke around and have fun with each other despite everything they have to deal with each day. He hopes they keep the light in their eyes as long as possible, especially the younger ones. He’s fine with being the stick in the mud, the one who never smiles, the iron willed chief that scares local uniforms.

Hotch is not so fine with the way he feels right now.

It’s a busy night at the bar, which is understandable. Hotch is sure half the precinct is out alongside them, celebrating the BAU finally solving the case that had torn them to shreds over the past week. You, Reid, and Garcia put the threads together an hour into scouring through evidence, and the unsub was cuffed before noon.

Certainly something to celebrate—there’s a reason the whole team agreed to go out tonight and leave tomorrow. Even Rossi decided to join when he learned you would be buying, but he’s already abandoned them in favor of catching up with some old friends. Hotch even thinks they might have another round in their future because of their solve, courtesy of the local chief. They had a long night ahead of them.

But you haven’t gotten the drinks yet, and Hotch wonders how long it’ll take even after you do. Because some officer is trying to talk you up, and you’re smiling and laughing along and giving him every bit of your attention.

Hotch recognized him the moment he set eyes upon him, even in plain clothes. He’s some joke of an officer from the station, and he’s been trying to get your number—or even just get your attention—throughout their whole visit. Always sidling up to you during debriefs, specifically giving you any information or evidence he finds—Hotch has overheard him asking for your number more than once.

Hotch has been so focused on the case he’s not even sure if you’ve rejected him or not, and the mere thought is enough to annoy him. If he wasn’t equally as sure of your ability to defend yourself and afraid of overstepping with you, he would have stepped in.

But it makes sense. The officer is young and handsome, you’re young and pretty—not to mention you have a way of lighting up any room you step into. Hotch spent the whole first month of your employment wondering why you would want to do a job like this. He’s spent the rest of it thankful that you did.

You’re sharp as a whip, naturally, but you’ve also done wonders for the team atmosphere. It’s hard to feel down with a smile like yours beaming his way. The job weighs you down like it does everyone, but you still manage to lift everyone’s spirits on the jet ride back before they jump into the next case. It’s impressive.

It’s also trouble. You’ve been part of the BAU for almost two years now, and Hotch has spent just as much time tearing his eyes away from you as he has working. It’s wrong, and it’s wholly inappropriate in terms of your working relationship—he’s your boss, for god’s sake.

But sometimes, Hotch will be beating himself up over one thing or another on a case, and you’ll plant yourself in his vicinity and refuse to leave until you’ve helped him work through it. If you ever tire of the FBI, he thinks you have a second calling as an elementary school teacher.

Sometimes the hotel they’re staying at will have truly shitty coffee, worse than they’re used to at the BAU, and you’ll already be in the lobby with a tray full of the team’s orders. Hotch never recalls telling you his order—you just figured it out, and you remembered it.

Sometimes his gaze will drift your way, and he’ll find you already staring at him. You look away just as quickly as he does, and it makes him wonder.

Hotch has made a living off of studying the behavior of others. More often than not, he finds himself profiling his co-workers just out of instinct. His job is to know what others are thinking.

But god. When it comes to you, Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever felt more unsure in his life. Especially when you look at him the same way he wants to for weeks, then act nothing but proper another day; when you fall asleep against his shoulder on the jet one night and entertain some desk jockey another night.

It makes him feel like a highschooler again, trying to figure out if Haley really liked him or if she was just playing around, and it’s more embarrassing than it should be. Especially when he’s still dealing with the lingering emotions from the divorce.

“Hotch.” JJ’s voice is enough to break him out of his trance, and he blinks as he turns to her. At least someone paid him the mercy to dispel his thoughts, even if only for a temporary time.

“What?”

“Did you hear a single word I said?” she asks, a slight smile curving on her lips.

“Of course,” he responds. “The chief’s over there talking with the commissioner. He’s the same guy who made your life difficult the last time we were in Milwaukee.”

JJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and she nods. “I didn’t think you were listening.”

“I think he just got lucky,” Morgan cuts in, his gaze darting over to you momentarily. “I think you were too focused on our drinks.”

Reid frowns. “I don’t think he was focused on the drinks. He’s—”

“Just making sure they’re still coming,” Hotch interrupts, and he straightens his tie. Today really has been a long one—usually, he’s better at covering these things up. “And I wasn’t lucky. I was listening.”

“Trust me,” Morgan says with a laugh, “I’m watchin’ her until I’ve got a glass in my hand. She’s not getting out of this after the way she bragged this whole month.”

“The stupidest thing to make a bet on,” Prentiss remarks, “especially with you.”

“She said she just wanted to prove you wrong,” Reid contributes. “She thinks you’re too cocky.”

Morgan grins. “It’s not cocky if you can back it up.”

Hotch’s attention goes back to you, and you’ve finally gotten their drinks. You’re loading them onto a tray like you’re the bartender yourself, and his brows crease. Maybe he should have gone up with you.

“Do you think she needs help?” he asks. How obvious is too obvious? Why does it feel like his brain only works at half power whenever it comes to you?

“She’ll be fine,” Prentiss says. “And if she needs it, that guy talking her up can help.”

“Jason Rodriguez,” Reid remarks. “He hung around her the whole time we were trying to pinpoint a location, and he wasn’t any help, which makes sense because he's practically desk-bound at the precinct. I’m surprised she got any work done.”

JJ chuckles. “I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. He’s been following her around all week, like some lost puppy.”

Morgan shrugs. “I dunno. She seems pretty into him.”

“I don’t think ex-frat boys are her type,” Prentiss says wryly. Hotch doesn’t think so either, but he doesn’t say anything. Contributing to this kind of conversation is certainly too obvious.

“I doubt we’ll be back here for a while. She might as well.” Morgan smiled. “She probably needs a win after such an embarrassing loss.”

Thankfully, before Hotch has to keep pretending not to care about this topic, you walk over carrying a tray of cocktails—and you’re alone. The subject of their previous conversation seems lost in the crowd, and he feels a dangerous amount of relief.

“Are you all talking about me?” you drawl.

“You know we are, sweetheart. Thought you were never gonna get here.” Morgan sits up, smiling at you. “What’d my win get us?”

“Long Island Iced Teas,” you muse as you set the tray down. “Enjoy it, because I’m gonna be working some overtime to make up for all these.”

Morgan grins as he takes his drink. “You should’ve never doubted my skills.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t need any help,” Prentiss says. “You’ve done this before, huh?”

“Bartended my way through college.” You slide into the booth next to Hotch, just a bit too close for a bit too long, and he hopes that no one can see his chest still for a moment. It’s impressive that he still hasn’t figured out how to lessen the effect you have on him. “I’ve probably got better hands than you, Morgan.”

“Do we need to make another bet?” he asks. “Because I’d love to clean out your wallet.”

“Maybe wait another month before you prey on any more poor, defenseless agents,” you croon, and Morgan laughs.

He pivots the conversation away from you when you pick up your drink and take a sip, and you look at Hotch. Whenever your gaze is on him, you make him feel like he’s the only person in the room. He’s sure you never look at anyone else that way, but Hotch wonders how much of that is his mind trying to justify his imagination.

“I’m surprised you agreed with this,” you say, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. “I thought you’d want us to go back tonight.”

“You all earned a night out after the work you did,” Hotch says. He thinks about taking a drink, but he decides against it, at least for now. He can barely trust his sober mind.

“You’ve earned it too,” you say. “We wouldn’t be anywhere without you, Hotch. You keep us all together.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever would’ve connected the dots like you and Reid can with Garcia. I hate unsubs with secret codes.”

“I’ve always liked puzzles,” you muse. “There’s nothin’ like it when it all finally clicks.”

Hotch hums, and for a moment, he’s silent. Your gaze remains fully on him, and that might be why he has trouble thinking. It’s too easy to get lost in your eyes.

“What did that guy say?” Hotch finally manages to ask, because he honestly can’t help it. Morgan’s points actually worried him a bit, and he wonders what that says about him. Ex-frat boy certainly isn’t your type, but someone forgettable for a one night stand isn’t the most absurd thing in the world.

Your brows knit together as you drink some more. “What guy?”

“The officer you were talking with,” he says. “He seemed to like you.”

He’d been flirting with you since the moment you stepped into the precinct, actually, desperate for your attention, but Hotch didn’t really want to say that. He’s sure you noticed either way, if the rest of the team did.

“Oh. Him.” You shrug. “He’s nice, I guess. Definitely a looker. But he’s got nothing beneath that hair.”

“Morgan’s surprised you didn’t bring him back,” Hotch says. He wonders if he’s pushing too much, and again, he feels like a highschooler testing the waters. Do you know what you do to him? What you reduce him to?

You shrug as you take a sip. “If he knows what’s good for him, he knows he doesn’t have a chance. My attention’s on someone else.”

Prentiss calls your name and you get drawn back into the middle of the team’s conversation, and thankfully, Hotch has a chance to digest your words—and the stunner of a smile you flash at him before you get pulled into their talk.

His decision to not drink seems even wiser, now. Hotch has to loosen his tie, and he ignores Reid watching him. It’s futile trying to hide anything from Spencer Reid—the kid already knows everything.

Again, it's dangerous how much satisfaction he gets from it—from knowing you never really paid that officer a second thought. You didn’t smile at him the way you smile at Hotch. You don’t smile at anyone the way you smile at Hotch. He thought he was imagining it at first, or that he was just a bit too stuck up, but it was the honest truth. You paid him special attention, and he couldn’t blame the warmth in his chest from the thought on any alcohol.

He tunes back into the conversation just to hear Morgan demand you pay for his next drink.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you say.

He puts a hand to his chest. “Generous? You’re just paying what you owe me.”

You laugh and shake your head. “Pick your poison, pretty boy.”

“How do you feel about tequila?”

You make a noise of disgust and shake your head. “As long as I don’t have to drink it.”

“You’re just paying, sweetheart.” Morgan’s eyes dart to Hotch, and he nods as he grins. “One for me and our fearless leader.”

Hotch shakes his head. “Someone has to get us back to the hotel.”

“That’s what cabs are for!” Prentiss exclaims. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Hotchner. You deserve to let a little loose.”

“It takes most people an hour to process a drink,” Reid contributes, “so you’ll be fine before we leave if you want to drive.”

“Come on, Hotch,” you say, and you nudge his shoulder. “You might as well—I’m paying.”

“...Fine,” he says, and the whole team cheers. Even Reid smiles.

“Y’know, you can smile tonight, Hotch,” you say with one of your own before you down the rest of your drink and stand up.

And one actually tugs at his lips. It feels a lot hotter in this bar with your eyes sparkling and you beaming right at him, and he fights the need to shed his jacket. Your grin somehow grows.

“That’s what I came out to see,” you remark as you pick your wallet back up from the table. “I expect another when I get back, Hotch. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight.”

Yeah, he thinks as he watches you go. There just might be.

#me ignoring all my wips for a hot man?? it's more likely than you think #also ive listened to too sweet on repeat for like 3 hours i dont want to take my whiskey neat anymore #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner imagine #sadie writes

1K notes · View notes

criibibi · 7 months ago

Text

Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Prev; Next;

Chapter 5 - No Time to Waste

It’s been a week and a half since the last power surge incident and so far everything was quiet. Too quiet for Batman’s liking. It definitely increased his paranoia which in turn causes him to be extra moody. The culprit? Whoever was behind the power surge in the Narrows. They became an anomaly to Gotham. Unwanted, an eyesore in the eyes of Batman.

And the issue is, there hasn’t been any news at all. No sightings, no suspects, nothing. Bruce felt challenged in a way. Something is in Gotham, living in his city and he feels like he’s still so far from discovering who or what it is. For the world's greatest detective is having a hard time solving this case. How frustrating.

With no news of another quantum breach, big or small, nothing. It’s frustrating. What’s even more of a headache about this unsolved case, is another thing that has come to his attention- thanks Jim.

Bruce started hearing more reports of a new ‘vigilante’. But there are no pictures, no camera footage, no evidence, just testimonies, occasional sightings and witnesses. Nothing concrete, nothing solid, just no proof. So frustrating.

And there is a pattern.

What he does know is that they are always quick and efficient, never staying too long, leaving once or before the police arrive, and it’s always low level crooks like muggers or thiefs. Respectful and polite (from those they saved) and they mostly keep to the shadows of the night.

Whoever this new problem is, is trying to stay hidden and Batman doesn’t like that at all. Not. One. Bit.

Despite the Narrows being Duke’s territory, he is just one person who patrols in the daytime, so some of his sons and daughter help patrol at night. But it seems this newcomer has incredible luck and scurries off everytime they are even close to their location.

But this doesn’t mean Batman will just let it go, oh no. Of course not silly, he’s going to find this new vigilante and see what they are about. He’s going to evaluate them, judge them, and all it takes is one mess up. Just one and he will make sure they are locked up in Arkham.

A bit extreme, possibly. But he will take no chances, not when it comes to the safety of his city. Gotham is his to protect and defend, he’s keeping many eyes out for this intruder. Watch your back.

“Sorry to interrupt your brooding hour B, but I have something I think you want to know. Also you have a message from Commissioner Gordon.” A new voice spoke through his comms.

“On my way.” He replied.

“No, I think it’s best you go with-”

“I am fully capable of handling it myself just fine. I don’t require father’s assistance.” a third voice snapped. “I’m here with Kent, we’re fine Drake.” And the line was turned off.

“Explain.” Batman demanded.

“So you see…”

After the failed attempt at contacting Miguel, you spent a couple of all nighters in advancing your beacon. This time, it would require even more energy but now it won’t cause a potential blackout. But it will notify the bats of your location like last time.

You know you have to be extra fucking careful this time. You might have gotten lucky those days ago in not getting caught, but you know your luck is shit anyways and Batman is one paranoid mother fucker. Him and his wards.

You have to be very cautious in where you go and how you will do this. This new connector is a bit more sturdier than the lightweight one you made before, but this time it also won’t require you to be stuck in one place. Actually, your signal will ping in more than one location. It will bounce off the cell towers and throw a fake location.

This will certainly tip the scales to your favor in avoidance of detection. Now, you won’t have to rely on your (shit) spider luck!

All you have to do is to connect it to a phone or computer, and connect that to any service in the area and manually set it off- which you can easily hack. There is only one tiny itty bitty problem. Guessed it yet? No? Well it’s simple, the only problem is- YOU DON’T HAVE A PHONE.

You could theoretically use the library computer but with civilians around you is a big major no. You’re also pretty sure the library closes at like 8 or something.

No worries. You have a solution for this baby problem. Is it build one yourself? Pfft- fuck no. You don’t have time to build a phone and even less for a computer, you still have to tweak your god damn watch for fuck sake. So, you’re just going to buy one.

And with what money- I hear you ask. Simple. You’re going to make some. Time to become Spider-woman again.

Only until you have enough for a decent phone- you said. It’ll be easy- you said. Until you were proven wrong.

You spent two days hunting and defeating crooks, webbing the worst ones up, while the not so bad but are making shitty choices were let go (with the promise of hunting them down should they go back to doing bad stuff). Some advice here and there, pickpocketing criminal’s money, you know, the usual shabang.

Can’t forget you’re avoiding all cameras so as to not give yourself away. Though you almost got caught by the police once, haha. You never stick around long enough to get spotted by the bats or the cops.

Until one night, dressed as a normal civilian, you were coming back from a shelter, turning a corner and you were immediately surrounded by a group of thugs wanting to rob you. You literally have nothing, so the only thing they would be robbing is your backpack with extra clothes and your suit. And maybe like two granola bars.

You tried to charm your way out of this situation because first of all, youre fucking tired, two, you don’t have time for baby shit, and three, you’re about to start tweaking. Of course the five men didn’t take your sarcastic remarks lightly and decided that their knives would do the talking.

So you beat them up. All five of them. 60 seconds was all it took. So to recompense wasting a minute of your time, you loot their cash discreetly.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) a well dressed man popped out of nowhere, getting close to you and you warned him you would break his wrist if he touched you- he still came but didn’t touch you. Holding out a black card he presented it to your face.

“You fight well, kid. If you want to make money fast,real money, call me and go here.”

“Um, I’m not a k-”

“You’ll make hundreds.” He cut you off. Rude. ”And if you impress the boss like you did me, you can make more.”

Spider luck?

Oh well that got your attention. Eyes narrowed. “Fast money, how?”

“Did no one ever teach ya about ‘stranger danger’? It’s a fight club, if you will. A tournament if you’re interested.”

Spider luck.

After pondering it for a quick second, here you are, getting a card with a free invite to a ring, probably filled with big, crazy, and most likely wanted criminals, and you get paid to beat them up? Sign me the fuck up. “I’m very interested.” you nod.

The man gave a crooked smile. “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, kid.”

“I’m not-” The man walked away and inside a white limo car. Fuck you.

So you went the next day. Making sure you wore your normal clothes, just sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and your face mask, you called the guy.

Meeting him was uninteresting, conversations were nothing exciting, just asking you your fighting style, can you take on a big guy, and whatnot.

Upon entering the place (behind a well known bar) you were led to a ring, two fighters going at it. You watched how one was clearly more experienced than the other, while the other guy was battered and bleeding but still fighting. Blood spraying everywhere with every hit until he hit the ground cold.

It certainly is a sight.

It was that very day that you had your very first fight.

Stepping into the ring with no prep, no bandages, no helmet, nothing, this was a raw fight through and through, you were immediately booed and laughed at. Tough crowd.

Of course you were not going against a stereotypical big muscular guy that looks like he could bench press a tank. No, in fact you were against a young military deserter as your first opponent. Scars and all. Across his neck laid an identification tag (also known as dog tag). Christopher Conner.

The man in front of you sneered, laughing at you. “No way they sent me a kid. I will break all your bones. Don’t start crying too soon.” he cooed.

He taunted you and the crowd loved it. You, on the other hand, were pretty bored and unimpressed.

“I’m not a kid…” you huffed behind your face mask.

What was able to be seen on your face must have told him that because he didn’t like being ignored.

So he swung, a clear hit to be a knock out. You swerve.

This time he kicked, you parried.

He did not like that. Soon a game ensued. Hit attacking and you either blocking or dodging. You didn’t even need your spider sense, you got this in the bag, honestly this was quite sad. The crowd went from booing you to insulting Christopher.

“What the fuck man?!”

“Hit the kid!”

“My money’s riding on you dickface!”

“Don’t you dare lose motherfucker, or I’ll shoot you!”

It seems their insults were getting to the man. You on the other hand kinda started to feel bad.

“Stand still you fucker!” Christopher growled, throwing punches.

You scoffed, “My aunt throws faster punches than you Chris.” You can almost taste the bloodlust seeping from his pores. “Hey man, it's been three minutes, surely you can end this, right?”

Chris’s jaw clenched in anger. He was about to explode. A voice called out your name.

“Nada! Stop wasting time and finish it kid. Or you won’t get paid.” What? What a scam! You’re trying to entertain yourself too y’know, guess this will be a way to relieve stress.

Facing the military man you didn’t give him a second to process when you blew him a kiss and then a fist made contact with his chin, effectively knocking him out the second his back hit the ring walls. “I’m not a kid.”

The crowd was silent before chaos broke. Half the crowd booed and threatened the fallen man, while the other half started cheering.

With how unsatisfied most people were, you had to fight three more times. Each time, you won, with no scratches on you (you did pretend to get hit at times for realism). Each victory secures you cheers and hype.

By the end of your last fight, it was dark out and you were walked off by the same man that brought you here. “Good job kid. I know you were the right call.”

“I’m not-” A thick envelope was thrown. Catching it, you opened it up to find money, lots of money. “Woah.”

The man in the suit chuckled. “Like it? You can make more the more you win.”

Still entrance by the stack of green you nodded. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Same time.” The man walked off and you stared at the money.

“Booyah baby!”

You bought a phone the next morning.

And so it’s been five days since then. You weren’t in a desperate need for money anymore, so you cut your fights down from five to two a day. You still needed time to continue fixing your beacon. Spider-woman sightings have also significantly decreased the more you noticed the increase in security.

You were not taking any chances.

Walking towards the somewhat empty bar, you greeted the bouncer and headed inside to an ‘employees only’ door to meet the guy in the suit. He did tell you his name, but you call him ‘Suit’ in your head regardless.

“Hey there Nada,” He hears a sigh from behind the mask. “Listen, kid, you’re one of my best fighters, but I need you to lay low for a while. Here.”

Catching a burner phone you tilt your head for an explanation, pocketing it. “Cops?”

“Worse.” he sighs, slicking his hair back. “Bats.”

Fucking spider luck.

Like a bucket of ice and cold water was dumped on you, blood turning cold. You froze in terror. You should have guessed that a hidden fighting ring would not be kept hidden for long. The criminals that you fought and were downright nasty, you made sure they were caught outside and far away from this location.

And it was random from a list you composed. Enough to make sure you weren’t a suspect. But fuck now you have to erase your presense here. You’re a nobody, Nada, nothing. Guess it really is time to lay lower than low, like a ghost. “I won’t come back then.” Voice serious and cold.

He laughed, pulling out an envelope from his suit's inner pocket. “S’that so?” Handing it out for you to take, his eyes burn into yours. “Then I’ll just have ta hunt you down, kid.”

Taking the envelope (it felt thicker and heavier than usual) and placing it in your pocket you chuckled, cold, fake, calculating. “Try. I’m good at hiding.” Walking away, hands in pocket, feeling both the envelope and the burner phone, turning your body to avoid bumping into a familiar guy speed walking in. “I’m not a kid…” you mumbled to yourself.

You didn’t bother glancing at the man you dubbed ‘Suit’, real name Jacob Sullivan Jones. It seems it’s time for JSJ to have a run in with the Gotham City Police Department.

It is truly fortunate that Jacob doesn’t know where you're staying. Although he might not know about the warehouse inside the junkyard, he does know you are not a resident with no permanent home. He had stalked you for a bit after the first meeting (the bouncer was so easy to spot really), believing you’re homeless, alone, and a nobody (someone who nobody would miss or look for). You’re using that (somewhat of a mis)information to your advantage.

Leaving the desolate bar, thoughts consumed by the written list of criminals you drafted and plan to anonymously give it to the GCPD. How you got the other criminals caught was simple, you always used a payphone and gave anonymous tips. That won’t work here. At least not fully. Knowing the corruption, maybe you should hand it to the one of the cops you know isn’t corrupt.

Now, do you hack the police and email it? Print it/fax it and send it? Or hand it directly but as spider-woman? Well for starters, the second option is garbage because if the right person doesn’t see it first, it will just get covered up. Hacking into the GCPD and emailing it directly doesn’t sound like a bad idea, the only issue is, if they decided to forward that information to the bats, you’re fucked because then you know they’ll dig in and somehow find out about you.

It seems like going in as Spider-woman is the best bet, but then again, the bats are real close, too close for comfort. Should you take the risk? But if you don’t turn these criminals in, it will stay in your consciousness of letting innocents down. Guess you have to suck it up and do it then.

“This sucks” you mumbled, deep in thought.

Suddenly you felt your body freeze. Feeling your spider sense go haywire, you looked up and hard swerved to the side, avoiding bumping into a stranger.

It seemed that your sudden change in direction caught the stranger’s attention and the person next to him, both heads snapped towards you.

Hands out of pocket awkwardly waving in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry!” Taking a look at the one you almost bumped into, he is tall, with black hair and vibrant blue eyes.

Taking note of your embarrassment the stranger chuckles, looking into your eyes, “No worries! Nice reflexes though!”

The stranger’s partner scowled in your direction and you could feel his eyes burning you alive. “Watch where you walk, you buffoon.” Venom.

“Don’t be rude, Dame.”

“Don’t call me that. We don’t have time for this tomfoolery.”

Alrighty then, guess it’s time to fuck off. “Yes, thank you- again, so sorry.” You don’t even spare the other guy a glance, quickly scurrying off. Your spider sense hasn’t shut off and you don’t like where this is going. “Good bye.”

“Hey wait a minute!”

“What are you doing Kent? Our priority is there.”

Not turning back, you quickened to a brisk walk away from this nauseating area. This whole goddamn experience is so nauseating. You just wanted to go home. Was that soooooo much to ask? Regardless, you did not want to know what those strangers wanted, and you were taught ‘stranger danger’ and it certainly applied here.

After a certain distance later, your senses dulled into a small buzz as you turned a corner and entered the public library. Taking your usual empty seat, you let out a deep sigh. This was what you were used to since coming into this world. Since being yoinked from another dimension and plopped in this universe, your senses never really shut off. It was like everything in this world was a danger, and it only spiked when reacting to blood lust, danger of a certain radius, and people who are incredibly strong.

Recalling that one stranger, who looked too innocent enough for it to be bloodlust, just that their presence caught you so off guard. But your senses screamed at you, and it terrified you to an extent. This is why you can never really relax being here, even when you’re alone in the warehouse, you just feel so out of place, and in danger constantly. It was beginning to eat you up honestly.

You miss your innocent youthful days. God you sound old. But you really do miss having a home to go back to. A home where once you step inside, it’s warm, and two people would always greet you like a warm embrace.

Now it’s cold and desolate, barely anything inside, empty and lonely.

But now, you can’t even go there anymore. Even if it was painful to live in the same home that had more members, then reduced to just you, it was still home.

You can’t even go home.

Remembering the words Jacob Sullivan Jones spoke to you earlier, you fish out the envelope. Taking note of the weight, it was decided to open it and find more than usual.

Picking up a small zip-lock bag, your eyes widened. It was an ID, an ID and a passport. Just what the fuck was Jacob going to do with giving you this? Why did he make this for you? What were his plans? No, you can’t think about that. This is a blessing for sure, and you’ll take it- but, you have to put Jacob in prison. Now.

This is a gift and you know that with criminals, all gifts are never for free. This is a ‘you owe me’ gift. “Fuck, this sucks.” You just want a moment of peace.

Think, you have to think. Now you have an identification, but, you don’t know if you’re in the system, since once again, incase you forgot, you don’t fucking exist here. Whatever Jacob was thinking, you definitely don’t want a part of it. You’re going to put a stop to this now.

Though, recalling the two strangers earlier, you don’t bother with the rude one of the two, more focused on the one with blue eyes. Something about him just stuck out to you. He looked vaguely familiar.

Okay, let’s take this from the top. You felt a strong sense of precaution, thus causing your spider sense to alert you. Your sense only went away when you were a considerable distance away from those two, so you know it’s about the strangers. Bases covered, perfect. What’s next?

You only really focused on the one who you almost touched, so let’s continue from there. He is tall, a welldefine body, black hair, and vibrant blue eyes. That’s all you remember seeing now for what you heard. His friend/partner/acquaintance/fellow party member said ‘Kent’, this could be his name or surname but the name ‘Kent’ makes your throat clogged. You only know of another Kent and it’s a superhero.

It couldn’t be…right?

Turning the computer on, you started typing away, fingers trembling, heart thumping loudly, head spinning, and body sweating. Please, please, please, be wrong. You prayed.

The window search lands on a somewhat recent news. Superman and Superboy save hundreds during bridge collapse! By Lois Lane Kent.

In the photo, on the front page was a scene, both Superman and Superboy. The older one was holding a piece of a bridge while the other younger one was using his heat vision. This was Superman’s son. And you came into contact with him.

You were royally fucking screwed.

Fuck- fuck! No, no nono!

All the anxiety you tried to lock away came like a tsunami. You were reminded of how small you are in this world. How easy it is to find trouble even without looking. You wanted no part in this world but it seems the gods wanted to fuck you over and over again.

And, as much as you wanted to curse out the Spot for yeeting you far faaaaaaar from your universe, you only blame yourself for latching onto him and getting lost on the way to his next destination.

God this sucks! You wanted to curl up and cry, but you can’t. You’re a big girl and so, you’ll deal with this fuckery later. After all, your best trait was putting your issues to the side and focusing on the bigger picture. This- meeting Superman’s son can wait. After all, you haven’t run into any bats besides Signal- yes you researched him when you had free time (you only knew of him but not really who he was), so for now, your spider luck has been blessing you thus far.

You need to focus on the bigger picture, getting Jacob and the other criminals caught.

Getting to work, you begin to type away your list that you memorized, the location of the bar, the owner of the bar was still a mystery but the one who runs it is Jacob, schedule of the bouncer shifts, and the names and alias of those who you encountered as well as the situation of misguided teens. You type it all, making sure to keep your real and fake identity out, you did put in your alias Nada, as a picked up street kid. Enough for it to be a ‘misguided’ teen situation but not enough to catch someone’s attention unless they were looking for it.

Now that you know you ran into Clark Kent’s son (a deduction), you know you can’t risk encountering him as spider-woman. Knowing that Superman can (somehow) memorize and identify someone based on their heart beat or whatever, so fuck no are you going to parade as spider-woman any time soon.

You swear to god that you will do everything you can to avoid meeting them in both their civilian personas and alter egos.

Calming yourself, you get ready to hack the GCPD, and leave a message.

‘They know. Scatter.’

It hits you. The epiphany of why Jacob had an ID and passport made for you. They were moving locations. Abandoning fort, and taking anyone who they wanted. Basically a trafficking ring for those who weren’t onboard, and a new opportunity for those who they saw potential in.

Shit, you should have stopped this when Jacob found you, but you didn’t know anything then. Now it could be too late. But Jacob did say to lay low, so they’re mostly biding their time. Probably erasing, hiding, and misplacing real and fake evidence.

They need to get exposed now, ‘strike while the iron is hot’ as the saying goes.

It seems like it’s time to meet the commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department, James “Jim” Gordon, as Spider-woman. How fun…

Way to contratic your fucking promise so soon. Well, at least it’s a civilian and not a hero/vigilante. “This fucking sucks.”

Damian scoffed when Tim wanted to force his father the Batman into his lead. It’s not that he doesn’t want his father, it’s just this is an undercover sort of situation. He got a lead when he went to interrogate a pathetic military criminal. He can handle this mission on his own.

“No, I think it’s best you go with-”

“I am fully capable of handling it myself just fine. I don’t require father’s assistance.” Damian heard Jon chuckle, most likely overhearing this conversation with his super hearing. What a nuisance. “I’m here with Kent, we’re fine Drake.” And the line was turned off.

“Well that was something. So, what’s the plan that you didn’t want Lizzie to be involved in?”

“Focus, Jon.” Damian explained their stakeout first, before going to don their costumes. Deep in their conversation, Damian caught sight of one of the suspects speed walking past them. He brings this to Jon’s attention. “It's him, the mercenary Christopher Conner.”

“Okay, so this bar is the place. Let me check real quick.” Using his vision, Jon’s eyebrow furrows. “Next door is styled like a wrestling ring, only two exits. From here and from an office. This is the place.”

“Then we’ll change and apprehend the criminal. Watch and hear what he is saying.” Jon followed Damian’s lead when someone jumped out of his way like he was burning them, causing Damian to also turn his head.

“I’m so sorry!” Despite the mask covering their mouth, their voice of this buffoon sounded androgynous, their clothes didn’t help to differentiate a gender either. But what he can see were this stranger’s eyes, and he can’t look away.

It seems neither can Jon as he chuckles and waves off the encounter. “No worries! Nice reflexes though!” Jon makes it very obvious he’s staring hard.

Just what is it about this total insignificant stranger that caught Damian’s undivided attention? From what he can see, they look normal (can’t really tell with that face mask though), but there is just something that has him unable to take his eyes off of them.

Jon has the same issue, and Damian narrowed his eyes in suspicion and scowls. “Watch where you walk, you buffoon.”

Jon, without breaking eye contact, scolds Damina. “Don’t be rude, Dame.”

Snapping out of this trance, he snaps back,” Don’t call me that.” That’s right, they are on a mission, no distractions allowed. “We don’t have time for this tomfoolery.”

Jon looks at Damian, as he too, regains his focus, eyes staring into each other as if communicating, he nods. They can come back to this after they finish their assignment.

“Yes, thank you- again, so sorry. Good bye.” The stranger quickly scurried off.

Caught off guard Jon impulsively extended his arm out to grab their shoulder. “Hey wait a minute!”

Damian acted faster, grabbing Jon’s arm. “What are you doing Kent? Our priority is there.” Pointing towards the bar with his head. This isn’t good, they’re getting sidetracked.

Jon didn’t turn to look at Damian, no he was still staring at the stranger. “I just wanted to ask…” He trailed off as he strained his ears, focusing on their heartbeat, their breathing patterns, anything he could to commit to memory. “For their name.”

Damian, too, side glanced at the retreating figure, dissecting the way they moved, their tensed shoulders, everything until they were out of sight.

Jon wanted to ask their name. Was that weird? Their situation didn’t require him to ask their name. How would he even go about it, ‘Sorry for almost bumping into you, hey can I ask for your name?’ Yea, no.

“Damian, I-” Jon began before getting caught off.

“I know. We’ll deal with that later,” His eyes narrow, glancing at the bar. “Focus.” But he too was entranced. But he was much better at pushing that to the side, but he knows he won’t be able to hold it off for now. The best he can do is rein in Jon’s attention to the assignment.

Moving to a cafe nearby with a good view of the bar’s entrance, they ordered some drinks. This wasn’t Damians idea but he’ll let Jon have his way for cooperating.

Jon nodded, getting back into focus, using his super hearing to overhear the conversation inside the bar.

His stomach tingles at the thought of asking the stranger for their name.

Hand discreetly on his year Damian spoke, “Drake, look into the time of now and send it over to me.”

“Hey- wait-” Tim was caught off guard, “What’s this about? I thought you didn’t ‘require assistance’ for this.” He teased.

“I don’t.” He shut the comms off. Now, back to work. “What’s going on Jon?”

“This is our guy. He’s getting assigned to deliver a package. This is serious. He’s upset.”

Damian clicked his tongue. “Tt. Follow.”

Jon tunes into the conversation again.

“The police aren’t the issue. It’s the costumes that have been spotted close. We already lost a couple of our men to the cops.”

“And you don’t think that’s suspicious? We have a traitor!”

“You don’t think I don’t know that, Chris? Ever since Sebastian was caught by the fucking commissioner, the others have been getting caught like flies here in Gotham. He’s spilling, so I need to silence him.”

“The usual?”

“No, not you this time. We’re leaving so I need you to focus on one more thing.”

“Is it about them, the one you want to recruit?”

“Yes, I want them-” a phone rang interrupting the conversation. “It’s the boss. Dismissed, I’ll send ya the rest later.”

“Understood sir. I’ll deliver the packages tonight.” The mercenary walked off, no longer as upset as earlier.

Jon, processing the information, becomes visibly upset. “They’re recruiting, and based on the conversation, it's the runaway and homeless teens that have been reported by the shelters. This is bigger than just Gotham. I think they’re leaving, moving somewhere else.”

“Let’s follow.” Damian’s attention was caught at the mercenary leaving the bar. “There.”

“The guy he was talking to said he would ‘send the rest later’, I think it will be on his phone.” Jon informed.

Damian absorbed the information. “We’ll follow and catch him red handed.”

“What about ‘the package’?” Jon questioned.

“What about them? I’ll forward the intel to the rest. We focus on this guy. The evidence on his phone is all we need.”

“Dame, I can’t with good conscience leave those vulnerable kids on their own.” Stressed Jon.

“And we’re not. The others will take care of it.” Damian replied. “When we apprehend the mercenary, acquire the intel, we go after this guy while the others detain their accomplices and rescue the runaways. They will all fall tonight, Jon, so focus.”

Jonathan Kent wanted to bite back, but he knows Damian ran this plan at least three times before bringing him along. Damian is just that strategic. And he places his full trust in him, god does this leave him unsatisfied. He knows those kids are trapped somewhere and if taking this mercenary and the manager from the bar out gets them safe faster, then he will do as he is told.

Something just feels out of place, this has been too easy so far. “Alright, he’s heading north.”

Damian nods, slipping away to change into his suit.

As if connected, Damian as well feels like things have been progressing smoothly. And when it comes to crimes committed in Gotham, when things are going good, then something isn’t right.

Ever since the first the GCPD have been arresting some low and decent levels of this new crime syndicate, news of some human trafficking organizations have been slowly getting uncovered as if by overnight. It started around five days ago, low level members were caught, and just two days ago, a higher member was arrested.

Ever since his father the Batman (he tagged along) interrogated him, he spilled like a waterfall. Since they have been cracking down on the case, they know this criminal organization is trying to get on the levels of Black Mask or The Penguin.

The only issue is, this was only exclusive to Gotham, now based on what Jon relay to him, this is just a small base, there are others. He refuses to let this go on any further. Not to his city, or his people. Yet, there is this itch in the back of his head. These captures were by far too easy, and these people aren’t sloppy. No, they had been operating for some time, and yet they were getting caught like moths to a flame due to anonymous tips being called in. Someone out there is deliberately getting these scumbags caught.

And Batman believes it could possibly have a connection to the other pressing issue that’s consuming his thought. There has to be a connection to the quantum disturbance from a little over a week ago. It’s just too coincidental for it not to be.

Something is happening in Gotham, and he will get to the bottom of this.

You know, people say to plan for everything, thus making Batman a force to be reckoned with since he is the master of having contingency plans and backup plans for those backup plans. And yet, here you are, with a plan and life just wants to fuck you over and expects you to just deal with it.

No.

After coming up with spider-woman handing the commissioner Jim Gordon a list of criminals and misguided teens, you just needed to go and change. But here you are, running into a situation if you will.

You see, after running away from Superman's son, and a printed list folded neatly in your pocket as you head ‘home’, you started to feel the icky sensation of being watched. Years of experience and knowing how not to tip off that you know, you head away from your place of operations and head up north.

Though despite not giving signs of how utterly fucking tense and anxious you are, you rationalize that it can not be any of the birds because you haven’t done anything suspicious. That, and the fact that your spider sense isn’t screaming at you of danger so for now, that’s calming you down.

On the other hand, you still have no clue who is following you. It was like, thirty minutes since running into the super, and no call from the burner phone. This whole ‘being followed’ is a fucking nuisance, putting a wrench in your plans.

The only good thing is that, since you are technically surrounded by civilians walking about, they can’t really do anything to you, unless they want to cause panic amongst the innocents. Though, that wouldn’t stop someone from shooting you if they wanted you dead.

Still, regardless if you are wanted dead (highly unlikely) or alive (for whatever reason) you don’t want to lead innocent civilians into this, so away you go! Informing Jim Gordon can wait (not it can’t), you’ll lose your pursuer and then catch them!

Turning a corner, into alleyways, zig zagging, you hear their footsteps pick up. Persistent.

While running away, you form theories. We crossed out the batsonas, you haven’t done or got caught with anything to be on their radar afterall, it can’t be a random crook because for one, you look poor too, and second, they’re chasing you for a reason. Another idea was maybe it has something to do with Jacob. But that doesn’t make much sense since you just got a burner phone.

Something just isn’t adding up.

Your spider sense spiked as you turned down a corner. Despite this, you kept going straight, ready to take on whoever was going to appear in front of you.

With a very good distance between you and your pursuer you took this chance to discard your mask and sweatshirt (thank god for having a tank top) ontop of a parked motorcycle as you turned another corner, there stood a man near the end of the alleyway, tall and (once again) wellbuilt, with black hair just standing there, phone in hand.

Quickly you jogged towards him (he glanced your way) and grabbed his arm, startling him. “Sorry, please play along!” you whispered and pulled him.

The stranger only had one second to figure out what was happening. In that split second though, he heard a plea for help. The next thing he knew, he had his free hand on the wall above your head while the other one was moved to your waist. Back towards the wall and having his big frame engulf yours, you let his arm go and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him towards your face.

It's only then that you take in his appearance, handsome from what you can see, and your heart dropped. “I’m being followed,” you muttered, noticing the stranger’s eyes roam your face before settling on your eyes. “I don’t know who they are.”

The man in front of you nodded, kept in place as footsteps hastily turned the corner, running past the both of you. Your body tensed up watching the hooded figure stop at the end of the alleyway. Taking the chance to observe the guy, he pulled out a phone while looking both ways before exiting from your view.

While you were distracted the stranger in front of you pulled back, making your release your hold. He was quiet. “Once again, I’m so sorry! Thank you!” You nervously backed away, in the opposite direction your pursuer went.

He grunted, watching you walk back away. He opened his mouth to speak but the phone in his hand began to ring. He glanced down at the caller before looking back up.

You were already gone, picking up your sweatshirt and mask, donning them on and running away. Your heart was pounding so loud, it rang in your ear. That was Jason mother fucking Todd. You ran into the Red Hood. What the fuck was he doing in the Narrows?!

Recalling the words Jacob spoke earlier, it echoed through your head. ‘Bats.’ That’s right. The fucking bats are intown, and this was too close for comfort. This sucks balls!

“Focus, focus. Officer Gordon, here I come.” To the junkyard you go.

Jason watched the very pretty woman leave him with his thoughts. Getting pulled into caging someone against a back alley wall was not in his cards today, but with Gotham, one always has to expect the unexpected.

Speaking of the unexpected, he let himself momentarily get distracted recalling the bold stranger from earlier. Something about this woman, rendered him quiet. But at the same time, he took note of just how anxious she was. Tensed body, eyebrows furrowed, worried expression, scared eyes, and over all the way she held onto him while losing her pursuer. He wondered just what kind of trouble found her. It seems crime really doesn’t stop during the daylight.

He committed her face to memory, and will touch upon her situation once he finished his current assignment.

“You still there?” the voice spoke from his phone.

“Yea, I’m still here. I’m in the Narrows, following the lead.”

“Good, while Damian follows the mercenary, you got the manager. I’m seeing some suspicious moments. Turn on your commlink, Bruce is already moody as he is.”

“When isn’t he like that.” Jason rolled his eyes as he walked back to his bike that he parked further in the alley. Before taking off, he glanced in the direction the stranger went. Her actions and the sound of her voice repeated inside his mind like an echo, burning itself in his memory.

Prev; Next;

I realized everything I wanted for this chapter did not happen. So now it's split into two parts- oops. Side note, this will not be a yandere series, though I do think they get 'possessive' sure, not yandere though. I finally know how I am going to end the Act, the issue is the in between that I struggle with.

Yay, you met Jon and Jason. Next up are Cass, Steph, Dick, and Tim the only ones left.

Web Bound Secret Corner!

Spider-Woman had an eidetic memory.

Spider-Woman does not know about the trafficked kids.

Spider-Woman did not notice Damian.

If Spider-Woman had to choose between saving a life and going home, she'd save the life.

Spider-Woman's is bad at grieving and worse with failure.

687 notes · View notes

dreamsteddie · 4 months ago

Text

Stretch Zone Part 2

Hi everybody! I'm back with the next part of my Yoga Steve Steddie AU. I've decided to call it Stretch Zone as a bit of a teacher joke 😅

Still not sure where this is going or if it will go further, but I will be officially starting a tag list after this installment so if you want to be added let me know if the comments or tags.

Part 1

------

Despite his best efforts, Robin does not come with him next week to Chrissy’s yoga class. He tried to tell her, many times, that Chrissy was totally into her but she was impervious to his completely air-tight proof.

“She asked if I was your boyfriend and totally lit up when I said I wasn’t. She totally wants to get with you, Robbie”

“First of all, gross. Second of all, that is not proof of anything.”

So he came alone this week. Mostly, it’s the same thing as the first class but instead of introductions, they just get right into the exercises. Chrissy is a good teacher. Kind, patient, and always giving alternative ways to do the poses for people who want more or less difficulty. Of all the girls Robin has liked, she’s definitely Steve’s favorite and he’s determined to play wingman.

Chrissy always leaves enough time after class for everyone to mill around and clear up their stuff, which leaves Steve plenty of time to meddle.

“Hey Chrissy!” he calls out, jogging a little to reach her before any of the vultures do. Chrissy is a cute girl and he thinks more than one of the guys here are more interested in her than mindfulness. Probably some of the girls, too. “I wanted to thank you for the links you sent me. This mat is much better than the one they loaned me at the desk.” He says a little louder than is probably necessary, but he wants the vultures to hear and think that he’s already got an in with the pretty blond.

“Oh, no problem Steve, I was happy to help,” she says. She really is tiny, he finds himself thinking. Steve himself isn’t the tallest guy around but she has to tilt her head all the way up to look him in the eye. She’s going to look so cute next to Robin, speaking of which. “I didn’t see Robin this week. Was she not able to make it?” Steve once again curses Robin’s stubborn streak. Chrissy was very clearly hoping to see the other girl today.

“Nah, she decided it wasn’t for her. I don’t know if you saw, but she’s kind of clumsy,” Steve admits. “She told me to say hi though. She’s always talking about how great your ideas are for your writing class. I think she said something about peer editing? I don’t know,” he says with faux nonchalance. Robin most certainly did not ask him to pass on a hello and she would be mortified to know that the previously anonymous peer edits she submitted for Chrissy’s last paper are not so anonymous anymore. Steve would feel bad, Robin was definitely effusive with her praise, but if he’s right about this whole situation then Robin will thank him later.

“Oh! Robin was my editor last week? I didn’t know that! That review was so thoughtful and kind I was wondering who it was. I’ll have to thank her in class tomorrow,” she says with a bright, excited smile.

Robin is going to owe him big time.

Mission accomplished, Steve becomes aware that he’s taken up a good chunk of Chrissy’s time and there is a small pod of people awkwardly loitering around, probably waiting to ask questions that are actually yoga-related. One guy in particular is boring holes into Steve’s head like it’s his damn job, which is…well, it’s a little uncomfortable but Steve can appreciate he’s being kind of annoying taking up all the instructor's attention.

He says his goodbyes to Chrissy and turns to leave, catching that guy’s eyes again and sending him a little wave and sheepish smile. He might as well try and be friendly; they’re going to be in this class together for the next two months, after all. To Steve’s mild relief, it seems to snap the guy out of his single-minded glaring. He watches as the guy blinks hard and turns a charming shade of pink, clearly embarrassed to be acknowledged, and give a little wave back.

The guy is kind of cute, in a wet cat kind of way. He’s wearing black sweatpants and a shirt for some band Steve doesn’t recognize with the sleeves cut off and despite the fact that he’s got long, curly hair he clearly didn’t bring any kind of hair tie because the whole thing has become one tangled, sweaty mess. He’s not the kind of guy Steve would expect to be taking yoga classes, but he supposes anyone can get into this kind of stuff.

With one last look at the strange man, Steve continues toward the door, mind once again turned toward making sure Robin is prepared to talk to Chrissy on Monday.

—---

Eddie can not believe this is his life.

Of all the things he thought he would do one day - write an award-winning song, buy his uncle Wayne a better trailer in a better town, find a man to take his virginity - yoga was never on the list.

Eddie Munson is not, and has never been, the kind of guy to do exercise that didn’t involve running away from jocks and preps he’d annoyed to the point of violence. In fact, he’s been adamant that he would only ever do recreational exercise of the non-sexual variety when the sun fell out of the sky and Andy Johnson from high school professed his undying love to him.

Neither thing has happened as of yet but unfortunately, his best friend is the surprisingly cunning Chrissy Cunningham, who is determined to make Eddie into a healthier person. Chrissy, a bonafide jock but also the kindest person on planet Earth, has tried every trick in the book to get her best friend to commit to a better lifestyle, but Eddie has always been stubborn to a fault. Even he can admit that his dedication to cigarettes, microwave meals, and general sloth is not the best way to ensure he lives a long, healthy life, but old habits die hard and he’s still too young to be thinking about his inevitable death.

No amount of pleading, cajoling, or petty theft from his apartment has gotten Eddie to commit to anything for more than a week, but Chrissy isn’t his best friend for nothing. She knows him better than anyone and that means she knows that Eddie is proud to a fault and when presented with a challenge he can’t - won’t - turn it down. She traps him into a bet he can’t win and in all her cruelty, she demands that he sign up for her three-month yoga course at the rec.

Three months.

Eddie won’t make it.

Eddie definitely won’t make it if the absolute snack of a man diagonal from him doesn’t start wearing something other than the tightest pair of yoga pants known to man. Seriously, Eddie thought this would be bad enough when all he had to worry about was his stiff joints and complete lack of lung capacity and then this man had the gal to walk in and set up not 10 feet away.

From the front, it had been bad enough. Droopy puppy eyes, sweet moles, a strong nose, and a fit body. And, well, Eddie is not a creep. He isn’t. But there is also an adonis of a man standing right in front of him wearing yoga pants and it’s kind of hard not to look at what's right in front of him. Much to his dismay, or relief he can’t tell, the adonis seems to know what he’s doing and has worn the correct undergarments to keep everything from flopping around.

And then he turned around and…

Dear god.

Those pants can not be fucking legal.

Eddie spent the entire class trying not to stare like the creep he swears he isn’t and failing. His only saving grace is that he doesn’t fall on his face, but it’s a near thing, especially when Chrissy guides them into these weird lunges that make the back of Eddie’s thighs burn and the man of his dream’s ass look completely biteable. He swears Chrissy is torturing him on purpose. She’s probably trying to get him back for being such a brat about taking care of himself.

When the class finally lets out 45 agonizing minutes after it started, Eddie feels like a wrung dish towel. He’s sweaty and gross and he’s going to be aching in places he didn’t even know existed until next week when he has to do it all again. Seriously, fuck bets.

When he finally summons the will to sit up, he is once again treated to the sight of the most fabulous ass this side of the Mississippi. The equally gorgeous man attached to it is chatting to Chrissy, something about yoga mats that Eddie doesn’t care to understand and general pleasantries that he tunes out until his brain hooks on something interesting.

Robin.

As in Robin Buckley the girl from Chrissy’s writing class that his best friend has been crushing hard on for weeks.

Very interesting indeed.

But he can think about that later. At the moment, he is more concerned with getting off the floor and shuffling a little closer to the front of the room for a better look at his future husband’s face. There’s something pleasant about the shape of his mouth, a thought Eddie has never had about a person before but is nonetheless true. There’s a curve to his smile that is present even as he speaks. Eddie kind of wants to kiss his teeth. He’s so caught up seeing if he can count all the moles on the man’s neck that he doesn’t notice him turn toward Eddie until he’s wiggling his fingers in a little wave.

Eddie is suddenly reminded that staring at another man’s moles in the middle of a yoga studio is not socially acceptable behavior, and this man definitely saw him doing just that. He can feel all the blood in his body rush to his face in record time. This is definitely the most embarrassing moment of his adult life.

Helpless to do anything else lest he look like even more of a freak, he gives a little wave back, feeling supremely stupid as he does. The guy gives him one last look before walking out the door.

As soon as he’s gone Eddie collapses back onto his abandoned mat and covers his eyes with his hands, too mortified to face the world. He doesn’t care if there are still other people lingering around talking to Chrissy and cleaning up their mats, he kicks his feet into the air and groans loud and long. Let Chrissy deal with the weird looks for him, this is her fault anyway.

A couple minutes later the room dims even more as Chrissy looms over him. He refuses to take his hands away from his face, not wanting to deal with her no doubt smug face.

“See something you liked?” She asked, unperturbed by Eddie’s childish behavior.

Eyes still closed, he says, “You’re going to hell. This is best friend abuse.”

Chrissy just laughs.

-------

Little reminder that I am doing a little fanfiction giveaway to celebrate 500 followers. If you want to enter, go to this post for the details!

------

Tag List Added

@aroseandherthorns @child-of-cuthulu @lumoschildextra @warlordess

#Steddie #stranger things #chrissy cunningham #robin buckley #buckingham #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #dreamer speaks #Eddie is a little bit of a perv #and a virgin #as a treat

389 notes · View notes

nympheagain · 21 days ago

Note

love ur works babes!! >.<

could u do a rex x fem!reader where he's trying to be all romantic and sneak through her window with snacks (and toys ;p) but catches her touching herself instead and just sits there in awe waiting for her to finish so he can act oblivious and go with her again? -🌸

(might be a lot so please take ur time!! <33)

Hiii tysmmm 🌸. I’m glad you like my works 🤭😚

Rex felt bad. He’d always had problems with his relationships. And maybe it was because he was afraid of being abandoned, or because he was afraid of how real it could get, or because he was raised in a lab.

But it didn’t matter now. He didn’t want to build his relationship with you on a foundation of excuses. He wanted to take accountability, apologise and make things better when they went wrong.

So when you hadn’t seen him in 2 weeks, mostly because he was busy with superhero duties and when he wasn’t you were busy with one thing or the other, he decides to surprise you, at a time when he’d sure you’d be home, and hopefully awake.

You nearly always kept your window open for him, not that the front door wasn’t suitable, but because for some reason he preferred to walk right into your bedroom.

Rex has spent at least four hours procuring a basket for your liking. He’s got your favorite snacks, some drinks, and even got you some toys to apologise to you with.

When he gets there, he can see that your actual lights are out, and that the only illumination in the room is your dull fairy lights. Just as he widens the window to let himself in, he hears his name.

But it’s quiet, like you aren’t addressing him, and it sounds identical to how it does when you’re writhing beneath him.

He holds his breath as he pushes the window further, not all the way, but just so he could lean against it in an angle where he could see you, on your bed.

You looked angelic.

Or devilish, depending on who you asked. There, on your back, fingers splayed across your cunt as you rub small fast circles on your clit.

Your legs are jerking, hips chasing the feeling, but when Rex looks at your flushed face, all he sees is frustration.

You’re rubbing your clit, short and sweet, your other hand pinching and twisting your hardened nipples, but every time you look like you’re about to fall off the edge, you stop.

And you look like you’re about to cry.

“Awww baby, if you needed to be dicked down all you had to do was ask.” You’re startling, jumping up from your position, cheeks flushed and face clammy.

He’s clambering into the room, basket left at his feet and clothes discarded as he walked up to you. He’s kissing you, hard and deep, bruising your lips, and you get the sense that he’s missed you too.

Especially with that raging boner in his pants.

“Fuck, ma. Couldn’t wait one week without some dick?” And you’re so desperate, so feverish that you can’t even respond to his teasing with a sarcastic comment.

He’s climbing on top of you, hands grabbing yours above your head as he plays with your tits, suckling and licking them. You’re arching into his touch, and you feel your release roll closer.

“Oh, fuckkk- why didn’t ya just call me?” He’s drooling over you, hand splayed out on your belly. You know he would’ve dropped everything, would’ve left whatever mission Cecil had sent him on so that he could make you feel good.

“D-didn’t wanna distract you.” You’re whining, trying to twist your hips in a way that makes his attention fall to the place where you need it most. When he looks into your eyes, sees the lust shining amongst your tears, he knows he has to give it to you.

“Shitttt, you’re so wet, baby.” He’s hissing, fingers soaked wherever they came into contact with your cunt. “Were you thinking of me?”

You’re so close, just a single touch from Rex pushing you over the edge, moaning as you shake against his fingers.

But he’s not done yet.

“Couldn’t be patient, huh?” He’s sitting on his heels, moving off the bed as you watch him inquisitively. When he returns, he’s holding an orange vibrator, grinning wildly as he mounts you again.

He’s flipping you over, manhandling you into position as you squeak at the feeling. You hear buzzing and a low chuckle, and you know where the night is headed.

Rex was gonna fuck you to sleep.

#nympheagain #invincible smut #rex sloan #rex sloan smut #rex splode smut #rex x you #rex x reader #rex splode

173 notes · View notes

lovelybucky1 · 1 month ago

Note

okay so dad!matt is rotting my brain so how about this: matt is older than reader and somehow she comes into his life, whether she be a client or the daughter of a client/friend. he takes her on almost like a protégé, maybe given her an internship at the firm. he tells himself it's because he wants to protect her like he would a daughter but in secret he can't stop thinking about bending her over his desk.

he is so ashamed of his feelings and hide them very well but quickly notices that she trusts him "like a father".

she on the other hand is quite attracted to him but she also sees him as a protective father figure and feels ashamed of her attraction because "that's almost her dad"

lots of pining and being confused by their moral compasses and immense attraction and need for the other person and ahhhhhh

- 🪆

i love this so much oh my god

you’re the daughter of a long time and well paying client of matt’s. when the client asked if his daughter could intern at murdock and mcduffie, it was hard for matt to say no. you don’t bite he hand that feeds, after all. he was worried about having a spoiled young girl from harvard law working under him, seeing as he specializes in helping the less fortunate, but that turned out to not be his biggest problem.

you’re sweet, kind, humble, and devastatingly sexy. devastating because you’re in your early twenties and he’s pushing forty.

he tried so hard to keep it professional, but you were insistent on getting to know him on a personal level and he couldn’t resist. after you became closer than the typical boss/employee, he tried to friendzone you, or more accurately, dad-zone you. he took on a mentor role and constantly called you kid, trying to put that space between the two of you. no matter how many times he reminded himself of your age, your inexperience, your innocence,he couldn’t help but imagine you bent over his desk.

despite how perceptive he usually his, he had no idea you felt the same. his own feelings were clouding his judgement and he didn’t realize how your heart races when you see him, how it skips when he called you kid in that warm, gentle tone. you didn’t mean to fall for your boss. you know he’s way too old for you and you’ve even referred to him as your work dad, but late at night, your fantasies always include him.

you started to dress up more for work which feels ironic because you work for a blind man, but you don’t know what else to do. somehow he seems to have taken notice. your skirts are shorter, still professional, but they show off more of your legs. you bought a new perfume, something sweet and alluring. you even started wearing your hair different, just to get his attention.

the two of you reach your boiling point late one evening while you’re helping him work on his opening statement. he had asked you to read it back to him, partly to catch errors, but mostly because he wanted to listen to your voice. you’re sitting close, your voice soft in the small, quiet room. this time, matt is paying attention to all of his senses and catches how your breath hitches when his thigh makes contact with yours.

tension is thick in the air, confessions sit heavy on the tips of your tongues.

“matt-”

“don’t.”

“but-“

“we can’t.”

it’s as close as you can get to confronting it without putting words to your feelings. no i’m too old, i’m your boss, i’m friends with your father. just, we can’t.

as much as it kills you, you understand. in fact, you understand so well that you begin to date another lawyer at the firm. he’s a first year from harvard, and despite being in the program at the same time, you never saw him around campus. he’s exceptional, a literal genius, and he treats you well. he’s great, except he’s not matt.

its been two months and you’re working late with matt again, scanning case files in his office. at this hour, in this small of a space, nothing good can come. you’re close again, touching at the ankles, thighs, and almost the shoulder.

“sweetheart-“

“don’t.”

“please-“

“we can’t.”

no i’m too young, i’m with someone else, you’re my boss. just we can’t.

“i don’t care,” he breathes.

he grabs your face and kisses you, lips gentle but full of passion, longing, and something darker. something you’ve both been pushing down since you’ve started working together.

“matt,” you gasp.

“i can’t stop myself,” he mumbles against your lips.

you have no idea the devil that hides behind the mask of matt murdock.

#matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil x you #daredevil smut #daredevil x y/n #daredevil x reader #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil fanfic #dad!matt #daddy matty #ask #🪆

161 notes · View notes

kawoala · 4 months ago

Note

omggg for ur event, can i do a workplace romance w atsumu where ur a new hire that he lowkey has a crush on?? blended would be cool :3. thank you!! <33

RAN THROUGH; atsumu miya. burger—haikyuu. drink—workplace romance.

contents word count ; 746. blended; smau/traditional. reader + tsumu work at a restaurant. minor profanity. DON’T PAY ATTENTION TO THE TIMESTAMPS, THANK YOU! sad undertone? implied fatherless atsumu.

authors notes MAKATTACK!!!! i loved writing this lowkey………………..

the restaurant is empty. it’s 9 o’clock—about an hour past closing—but you’re still here, cleaning. you’re not sure how the customers are capable of dirtying something so fast, but the tables and floors are always filthy by the end of the night.

your movements as you wipe down the last table of the night are sluggish and lazy, your mind is miles away from anything vaguely related to the restaurant. your hand moves almost absentmindedly, wiping the same spot over and over again. you know you should move on, finish this up quickly, but your mind won’t let you move. you’re paralyzed by your thoughts.

class tomorrow. need to visit your mother. do laundry. assignment due tonight. answer email. car needs an oil change. apply for the part-time job at the convenience store on the corner? rent due soon. need groceries.

you go through the thoughts like they’re a checklist. they play in your head like a loop. class tomorrow. laundry. oil. class tomorrow. oil. rent due. class tomorrow. assignment tonight. oil. groceries. laundry. class tomorrow.

“you okay?”

you spin around quickly, grasping the rag to your chest. “atsumu!” you exclaim in a breathless whisper. you hit him with the rag lightly and shake your head. “you scared the shit out of me. i thought you went home already?”

he snickers, and shakes his head as well. “nah. i was going to, but then i remembered i’d rather bother you instead.”

“har har,” you drone sarcastically, giving him an unimpressed look. “seriously though, go home. i can close by myself. all that’s left is this table.” you pause, then narrow your eyes. “did you do the bar? you know the afternoon shift hates it when you don’t put the cups where they’re supposed to be.”

“yes, manager y/n,” he mocks, plopping down in the booth. he puts his arms across the back of it and lets his head fall back, eyes falling shut. “my feet hurt so bad, dude. i think i need to get some new shoes.”

you hum and sit down across from him. you put your elbow on the table, and your cheek in your hand, thoughts drifting back to all the things you need to do. you don’t notice your brows furrowing until atsumu reaches a hand forward and presses his thumb in between your brows.

“what are you thinking so hard about?” he asks, leaning forward, head tilted. the look in his eyes is so genuine, you have to look down at the table. “it’s, like, nine o’clock, dude. you should be thinking about your comfy bed.”

you don’t answer immediately, choosing to pick at a scratch on the varnished wood. “i have a lot to do tomorrow,” you mumble. your voice drops down to a whisper when you say, “too much.”

“like what?”

you look up and meet his eyes again, but not before catching a glimpse of that stupid smile that’s so atsumu you kind of want to punch him. “uh, just college stuff, mostly. i have to pay rent, get my oil changed—it’s gonna cost a lot of money.” you shake your head and laugh humorlessly. “sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about my money problems.”

“ah,” he hums softly, nodding. “i can, uh, change your oil for you if you want. for free. just so you don’t have to worry about it anymore.” he gives you a shrug.

“you know about cars?”

he shrugs again. “a little. my dad was a mechanic before mom had me and my brother, so he taught us how to do basic shit. change a tire, change oil, stuff like that.”

his eyes dart away from yours at the mention of his dad. you want to ask about it, but refrain. you know what it’s like to have family problems—how hard it is to talk about that stuff.

“that’s cool,” you say. “and, yeah, that’d be nice. thanks.”

suddenly, he clears his throat and shuffles his way out of the booth. “come on.” he vaguely nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. “we’re done, let’s get outta here.” you can practically see the hesitation on his as he asks, “you wanna come over? watch a movie, or something? i can make food, too. i’m freakishly good at cooking.”

you laugh at the way he emphasizes his sentence. you stand and wipe the nonexistent dust off your pants and nod once. “yeah, food sounds pretty good right about now.”

203 notes · View notes

jweekgoji · 4 months ago

Note

I just read your d-16 obsessed with famous reader and was kind of curious to think about what he would do when he became megatron like almost yandere obsessive

anyways… ily!!

Yandere!Megatron/Idol!Reader [TFO]

tw: yandere themes, obsession, possesive thoughts. word count: ~1,7k additional: gender-neutral!reader, ex-racer!reader, decepticon!reader. a/n: I did something similar before, you can read here if you want. however I would focus on different scenario here and mostly on exploring dynamic through inner feelings (if that makes sense). i think i wrote about more violent Megs before, so i wanted to write a bit softy one.

Pretty little thing.

Always on a pedestal, standing at the centre of attention, you rarely had to think about any problems. You were always surrounded by someone who would surely worry about it and solve everything at the flick of your wrist. The only thing that was needed was to just innocently clap your optics and enlighten the rest of the crowd with your beauty.

It's hard not to get used to it.

From the moment he saw you, you were amazing. No, perfect.

It seemed like every time he watched you from afar, he was looking at the brightest star in far, far away space. No matter how far away he stood, you always shined brightest for him.

Surrounded by a crowd of fans that never gave you a moment's peace, like satellites, you always stood out in the crowd. Everything in this tiny, cramped world revolved around you.

There was nothing in D-16 that could ever catch your attention, if only for a second.

And yet, he was happy. Never having seen the real beauty of the outside world, deprived of freedom since birth, at some point you always made him feel surrounded in a field of stars.

If it was safe on the surface of Cybertron again, he would surely spend cycles watching the vast sky dotted with colourful, bright lights.

‘It's not the right place for you to be,’ he would remind you every time he gets the chance of.

Away from Iacon, albeit rotten in the filth that was left behind by Sentinel the false Prime, he couldn't deny that there, you would be much safer.

Away from Iacon, you were lost. You never seemed to belong in the company of the former High Guard. Being silver spoon fed since the moment of your creation made you more naive and so painfully obvious to everyone around. It is a miracle, that there were still someone who looked after you, even though your silly little title doesn't mean here anything anymore.

He must have hated you, you would have thought. Unlike all those who joined the Decepticon resistance, everyone here was united in their hatred for the former reign of long-abandoned leader of the Iacon. Numerous attempts to hunt down, then exterminate every last one of them, only to hide the truth will forever be remembered by those whom Sentinel Prime deemed a threat to his rule.

In turn, what really united you with the idea of the Decepticons?

Did you feel as if you had been betrayed? Were born into this world only to exist meaninglessly in the depths of of your home planet, furnished for a slow, faithless death?

Something in Megatron's gaze drew you in. It was hard to tell if it was that bloodthirsty determination to free your city from the captivity of tyranny, or that look of despair and bitterness as the newly elected Prime banished him from his own city?

Either way, you followed him that day, much to the surprise of the Decepticon leader himself.

You glanced in Megatron's direction. Battered, like a wounded dog he was clenching his teeth and sitting on an equally time-worn throne. The silver frame was dotted with many scratches and dents, and the distinguished cannon still emitted a faint hint of smoke after being sliced in half.

The three members of the High Guard always stayed close by, but it seemed that no matter how hard they tried, their words always passed by Megatron's audials, that he didn't even have the slightest desire to cast his gaze at one of them.

“We can't waste time just because you're unable to move on from the last confrontation,” Starscream hissed demandingly, red optics fixed on the seated leader beside him. “We have a chance to mount a surprise attack until they secure their position in Iacon.”

The quiet scraping of metal against hard surface barely passes your optics. Fingers dig firmly into the armrests of the throne, at the mere talk about the recent defeat.

“Makes no sense. All focus should be on finding a suitable base for the Decepticons,’ Soundwave reminds, taking a single step forward towards the jet. Now, Starscream's gaze in Megatron's direction is blocked.

“So why haven't you started on this yet?” comes another, counter question. Stepping forward to meet the officer, the former leader of the guard gives his colleague only a sceptical, stern look.

“I'm working on it,” is the simple answer, not uncommon from the Decepticon's lips hidden behind the mask.

Starscream pinches himself on the bridge of his nose, closing his optics for a fleeting moment. This is what he gets after cycles of loyal service to the Primes. Total disobedience, and their new leader is hardly battle-hardened, spending twenty-four hours wasted in a pathetic attempt to soothe the yearning spark. To believe it, and this is the brat he lost to?

“Then get on it quick!” the red and white mech clucks his tongue, after which, casts a sharp glance in Megatron's direction. “If we can't keep fighting, what was the point of all this in the first place?”

Such an arrogant, son of a glitch. Doesn't know when it's the right time to shut up. That hit only deeper, after everything that happened for the past cycles. The constant whining and demands do nothing to ease his already troubled mind. He lost everything that day, the one and only time when he felt like everything. The bloody red optics darken at the words, and a soft growl escapes from him.

So, you step up.

“Soundwave is right, there will be another time for the attack, but now the top priority is to establish a base,” you raise your voice enough to catch all the decepticons around off guard. “Let our leader sort out his thoughts instead of pressing on him.”

Who could know you can speak up?

The confused sight you received from Starscream worth it in some way. If for all of Iacon you were an idol, loved by many, the old member of the high guard had no idea about you. The majority of the decepticons probably don't know either, you imagine, but does it really matter? The only look you only wanted, was from him.

An invisible, red string of fate always seemed to be tied around your wrist when it came to the unknown, small miner named D-16. After countless days of him following you around, it would be you looking out for him. How funny.

You smile.

Not a fighter, nor even build for any hard work. Your frame is neatly polished, shining pretty in the light. Even though at first of the decepticons glared and watched you with nothing but suspicion and hesitation at first, your bright charisma always let you have your way. Good on cameras, a valuable experience even at war. Somehow, you even made friends with them. You can even remember Slipstream and Thundercracker asking you about your daily polishing routine.

The same, dark red optics always trained on you. He should be glad, at least. Wasn't he concerned about your position in his new rankings? No matter how hard he tries to act so mighty and cruel, the big bad leader of the decepticons, Megatron, is still soft.

Still shy, you can add.

He's taller, stronger. If you easily towered over him, now the silver mech is the one looking down at you. It was odd, for some time. Your alt mode is build for speed, keeping you on the road and easily avoiding any obstacles that might get into the way. But with Megatronus' t-cog now, he's no longer that scrawny mech you were used to.

It must be so confusing to him, but so satisfying. It is no point in trying to hide it. With how tight his servos wrapped around your waist, holding you suffocatingly tight against his own frame. Like you'd run away or disappear if he let go. Funny enough, you'd do exactly the opposite of it.

The last bits of his own comfort in this Primus forgotten place. With you in his arms, he feels safe and loved, even though he doesn't understand what exactly this feeling means for him. He felt like that every time he was with Orion, playing that arcade game over and over, even as a miner, it was enough for him to be satisfied.

Megatron hides his face against your neck, closing his optics. Loved when he's with you. It was never this close until now. As D-16, all he had was glimpses of you on the big screen television, some rare, closed-door nights, when lucky.

He should be happy now, he thinks. No more hiding now, just you and him together. No more of this cursed society that stood in his way. Who would dare to oppose him at this moment? Tell him he has no chances of having you this close, however and whenever he wants it?

If only you just stood still and never moved an inch. He'd put you on the pedestal you deserve to be, so he could be the only one to be graced by your own appearance. A big, nice, glassy box will be good enough to cover you from the outside world, so maybe no Prime would even dare to lay their filthy hands on you.

Your servo gently laid on his back, moving in lazy, soothing circles. Both of you don't have to say a word; it was a comfortable silence between the two. After long, long and tiring days of work, he wants nothing but to rest next to you. Let himself fall in the long deserved recharge, so the constant, painful ache in his processor would be gone.

Such a peaceful sight for you. Having him this close, right in your arms. You would never dare to bother him at such a time. Even if his servos are fully covered in deep pink energon, wouldn't it be easy to just pretend not to notice it? If there's anything you're thankful for from your past career, it is the ability to turn blind optic when it's needed.

If you can't change him, you can definitely make him worse.

#yandere x reader #transformers x reader #transformers one x reader #tw yandere #megatron x reader #yandere megatron x reader #yandere transformers one #yandere transformers x reader

179 notes · View notes

alexiroflife · 1 year ago

Text

"fix your tone"

MDNI, you're a brat & eren has anger problems, sexual content

Synopsis: Eren pisses you off, and when you're still giving him a hard time, he decides he's had enough

to sum it up: you should have known that Eren wouldn't let you get away with your sass

WC: 4,790

Warning(s): literally just smut, vulgar language, slight manhandling, spanking, soft/hard dom

You really did believe that you hated your boyfriend sometimes.

While he was mostly attentive and caring, showering you with his love and affection, there resided his stubborn arrogance whenever the two of you were arguing.

It hadn’t even been a big deal to you before Eren’s reaction made you angry. You swore that at times he just didn’t understand how his tone impacted the things that he said and how they made you feel. He was so quick to make faces, to snap with some snarky remark when he didn’t see the same fault in his actions that you did.

And it drove you crazy.

Granted, what you had been upset about was a very small matter. You had asked Eren to help you pick out an outfit for the weekend since you both were going to be spending time out with your friends. You showed him the choices between a skirt and some jeans.

Eren furrowed his eyebrows at the options, picking the jeans rather quickly because he knew of the upcoming weather. Now he had not meant to offend you when his brows furrowed and his lips tightened upon looking at your skirt. He was simply concerned over the drop in the temperature and confused as to why you would pick something so revealing if it was going to be chilly.

He could have been nicer about it, but he had been tired and instead said: “I don’t know why you’d wear that skirt in the first place,” with a bored tone.

You lowered your clothes, staring at him skeptically with hard eyes. “What are you talking about?” you asked, attitude dripping into your tone.

Eren’s eyes cut over to you with hard confusion. “I just mean you should be more aware of the right time and place to dress a certain way.”

Now you were getting annoyed. “Oh, so you have a problem with the way I dress now?”

“What? Baby, I didn’t say that. I just mean that if it’s going to be fifty out, you shouldn’t go prancing around without your legs being covered,” he explained.

You rolled your eyes, dropping your clothes back onto your bed with force. “Then just say that next time, Eren.”

Eren watched the motion closely then dragged his eyes back up to you, suspicion bubbling in his gaze. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I just think you need to be mindful of how you talk to me sometimes,” you hissed, narrowing your eyes and turning away. “You can sound so rude.”

“How is it rude that I don’t want you catching a cold?”

“It’s not that, it’s the way you make things sound.”

Eren tilted his head back with a groan. “For god’s sake, (Y/n), I was just trying to help you.”

You sucked your teeth, clearly unable to get your boyfriend to understand where you were coming from. “Whatever,” you grumbled, turning on your heel and storming out of your own room.

Eren watched you leave, perplexed, completely unaware of how he could have possibly pissed you off this time around.

He thought that you just needed a few hours to blow off some steam, but that night when he asked you what you wanted for dinner, you coldly told him to fuck off from where you sat in the corner of the couch.

He stared at you, eying your closed off position from where he stood in your kitchen with his phone in hand. When he tried again and mentioned that he was ordering food, you ignored him this time, keeping your eyes glued to your phone screen with a blank face.

He took a deep breath to himself, shaking his head as he put in your order anyway. He knew you would have been even angrier if he didn’t get you something to eat.

But then, when the food came, you took it off into your room and ate behind your closed door. When you finished and came back out, you hadn’t even thanked Eren or acknowledged his presence at the dining table. You simply walked past him to throw away your trash and disappeared wordlessly into the bathroom to shower.

That’s when he started getting pissed.

You had always harbored such awful attitude issues, but in turn, so did Eren. It was one of the many things that brought you two together and simultaneously had you butting heads every now and then. Eren was stubborn and blunt while you were easily irritated and cheeky. Your personality traits worked to destroy each other at the worst of times, but it was nothing Eren didn’t know how to fix. After all, he knew you and your body like the back of his hand.

And when you got mouthy with him, well, he just was not the man to tolerate it. After all, he had a big ego and a tendency to react aggressively when he felt he was being attacked. He was nothing if not perfectly capable of handling you the way you needed to be handled when you got like this.

Eren was sitting on the edge of your bed with his legs sprawled out when you stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around your damp body as steam enveloped your figure. He looked up at you through his brown locks, watching you scoff at his presence and move around him like he wasn’t there.

“(Y/n), I wanna talk to you for a sec.”

“No. I’m busy.”

You were so quick to shut him down, rifling angrily through your drawers for your pajamas. Eren turned over his shoulder, twisting his body so that he could look at you. “I wasn’t asking.”

“That’s too bad, maybe you should ask next time and see if you have any luck.”

Oh. You were really testing your limits today.

“(Y/n),” he called your name again, more firmly. This time you stop and turn around, passing on your deadly glare.

“What?”

Eren was not having it, not one bit.

“You wanna fix your tone?” he lifted his brows, anger swimming in his aqua eyes.

“No, I think I’m good,” you smiled tightly.

With that, Eren rose to his feet, rounding your bed to approach you. You watched him with hard eyes and arms crossed over your chest, expression tense and frustrated. “Try that again, baby,” he warned, hand closing gently around your throat as he leaned into you. “Check that attitude before I have to do something about it.”

Your gaze didn’t falter, for you were far too determined to make Eren see just how angry with him you were. “Fuck. Off.”

Eren’s eyes went cold, lust and impatience clouding his gaze. His large fingers tightened around the plush of your neck, pulling you further toward him. He could see that flicker of vulnerability flash in your eyes as his grip tightened, your legs shifting under you.

“Wrong answer.”

Eren didn’t waste any time in ripping your towel from your damp body, picking you up, and tossing you onto your bed. You watched as Eren’s eyes went red, shivering under his build as he lifted his shirt over his head to reveal his mouth watering build.

You had found yourself in this position far too many times. You would catch an attitude, Eren would get riled up, and the next thing you knew, he was fucking the shit out of you. You couldn’t deny the fact that you loved the way he handled you, but at the same time, you still couldn’t let go of why you were angry with him, especially if he didn’t apologize. He expected not to be held accountable, and it pissed you off.

“Flip over.” he ordered.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

That was fine with him.

He took it upon himself to maneuver you into the position he desired. He flipped you onto your stomach, then forced your bare ass into the air and arched your back downward, pressing your head into the blankets. You could feel the wind get knocked out of you with the motion, for he had done so with no hesitation and with impressive speed.

You heard him undoing his belt and tossing his shirt off into the corner. He pulled your arms up from the bed and pinned them to your lower back, encouraging a whine to slide from your throat. “I don’t wanna fucking hear it,” he growled, using his belt to bind your wrists together tightly. You hissed when he tugged at the leather, ensuring that he had secured your arms tight enough.

Eren was quick to give extra attention to your bum. He hummed, grabbing handfuls of your ass and digging his fingers into the plush flesh eagerly. A string of arousal drooled from your pussy as he did so, and he scoffed. He sent a harsh slap to your backside, your body jumping forward and a cry ripping into the air.

“You must like pissing me off,” he slid his hand up your spine and leaned over to whisper into your ear. “I haven’t even touched you and you're already wet for me…”

You groaned, grumbling angrily to yourself through the mess of your pillows.

“You’re gonna take this shit and you're not gonna complain, you got me?”

“Shut the fuck up, Eren,” you muttered weakly.

Eren slapped your ass again, then once more. You groaned, scrunching your eyes closed and fidgeting against your constraints. “What the fuck did I just say? Come on.”

He moved back down to your ass, kissing across the quickly reddening hand prints that decorating your brown skin. He smoothed his hands downward to your thighs, gently pressing a kiss from your inner leg to the lips of your pussy. Your breath hitched in your throat at the sensation as your lower half squirmed in anticipation. He kept a hand on your bound wrists, pinning them down harshly.

“Don’t squirm,” he ordered, ducking down to press a soft kiss to your sopping clit. A hoarse whine broke from your mouth, your body aching for Eren’s touch.

“Please,” you begged softly. “Just hurry up and touch me, please.”

“Cute of you to think you can make demands after acting so pissy with me all day,” he grumbled darkly. “Don’t start begging now, mama,” Eren landed another sharp smack to your ass. You jumped and cried out before Eren stabilized you again. “You're gonna be patient and take what I give when I give it.”

“‘Ren, please,” you continued to beg pitifully, knowing the nickname you used would get you whatever you wanted. Eren clenched his jaw tightly, prying your legs open further by pushing your thighs apart. He said nothing more as he dove face first into your soaking cunt, licking a long strip from your folds to your clit.

The moan that ripped from your lips sent the blood straight down to Eren’s dick, encouraging him to proceed despite his agitation with you.

His tongue flattened around your clit as he licked it gently, wrapping his lips carefully around it and sucking generously. Your body began quivering already as his tongue swirled around your lips, slurping your arousal into the warm cavern of his mouth. He hummed, savoring the taste of your juices against his tongue and sending vibrations through your sex. He worked his way down, flicking his tongue around excitedly before plunging it inside of your walls.

“Shit,” Your jaw fell open, moans muffled by the pillows below Eren slurped your greedy pussy loudly. You could feel your resolved crumbling, his tongue too good for you to think straight.

Your wrists started to fight against his hold, but he kept his word and his grip on them tight. The more you wriggled around, the tighter his hold became and the harder he sucked. Eren shifted the pace as his tongue moved quicker, flicking up and down, inside and out.

“Fuckkk,” You whined. “Oh god, Eren, please…”

The said man made a noise similar to no and shook his head back and forth, eating out your cunt for all he was worth. You dripped into his mouth pathetically, legs trembling around his head while he relished in his meal.

He moved his free hand in between your legs to rub circles over your puffy clit as he proceeded to devour your fluids. Your toes curled tightly and your wails grew louder, desperate pleas flooding the atmosphere and making you forget that you were ever angry with him in the first place.

“Shit, I’m so close,” you moaned, turning your head to the side so that your cheek was squished against the bed.

“You want me to make you cum, pretty girl? Is that it?” Eren lifted his head to coo breathlessly, his fingers picking up pace in rubbing vigorously against your drenched clit. You squealed, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Yes, please, please, please,” you begged, your sweet release the only thing occupying your brain as it built up to the point where you were about to break.

Right before your orgasm could crash over you, Eren ripped his hand away, leaving the cold air to nip at your wetness. You whined in retaliation and dismay, wriggling around more though it was helpless for you to do so.

“That’s too bad,” he tsked, running his palms over the flesh of your ass once again. “Wish you could be this sweet all the time, but pretty girls with bad attitudes don’t get to cum.”

“Eren, I swear to god.”

“You apologize, you get to cum.”

“I fucking hate you.”

A fire lit in Eren’s eyes as the words reached his ears. “Do you, now? You hate me? That’s what we’re doing?”

Your heart dropped in your ass at the sound of his voice sinking into something dangerous, something primal, something indisputably pissed off. You knew you fucked up.

Eren was quick to grab you by the waist and pull you onto his lap once he had shifted into a seated position comfortably. He kept your tied wrists pinned to your back, which he arched deeply over his lap, leaving your ass laying directly in front of him. “Count to ten.”

“Wh-”

You yelped when another sharp sting hit your cheeks, eyes watering at the sensation. “Count,” Edward ordered.

“O-One.”

Another slap, harder than the last. You attempted to suppress your cry, sinking your teeth violently into your lip.

“Two…”

And again, then again, and again.

“Do you I’m playing with you, (Y/n)?” Slap. “You think you can just talk to me however you want?” Slap. “You like when I get angry with you? You like me having to put you in your fucking place? Huh?”

“No, Eren!” You sobbed out.

“Then why do you keep slinging that attitude around with me? Haven’t I told you to reel it in before?”

“I’m sorry!”

Slap!

“It’s too late now, baby, gotta take this punishment. Then I’ll know if you really mean it.”

You were reduced to a teary eyed, quivering mess by the time Eren number nine. He noticed that you were gone when you were no longer fighting against him but simply begging him to stop, your voice shaking with your cries.

The brunette could feel his heart ache at the sound of your pleas, deciding that you had enough and learned your lesson.

Eren hushed you softly and leaned over behind your ear, listening to your sniffle and whimper for him. “It’s okay, baby, you’re okay. You got one more, okay? You think you can take one more for me?”

You whined for a moment, completely unable to process his question, though found yourself responding to the warmth in his tone and nodding in agreement in a daze. You felt his lips meet your back in a soft kiss.

“Good girl, baby. Alright, just one more. You got it.”

You winced and tensed up your body as you prepared yourself for the last smack. Eren sat back up straight and raised his hand, then landed his final strike upon your ass. You jumped, before finally relaxing, having realized that it was over.

“You did so good, (Y/n). Look at you. Such a good girl, for me, you know that? You always have been,” Eren praised, his cold facade having completely disappeared.

He wrapped his arms around your waist gently and pulled you up, moving you to lay on your back carefully. You cringed as the sting in your butt met the cool sheets, but you eventually relaxed when Eren’s hands came to caress your skin lovingly.

You were then reminded of Eren’s passion and tenderness despite his flaws, reminded of why you loved him. Your mind was fuzzy and your vision was blurred with tears, and you didn’t have it in your heart to still be mad.

“M’sorry,” you murmured over and over. “Sorry, Eren. I’m sorry.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. Calm down,” his thumb glided carefully over your eyelashes, wiping away the tears that had collected in them. He pressed warm, soft kisses to your cheek, then to your neck, chest, and stomach whilst his hands slid up and down your arms. He carefully removed his belt from your wrists as he kissed you then tossed it onto the floor. “You did real good, mama. You did such a good job. Let me take care of you, okay? Just calm down for me.”

You responded with a mute nod and hazy eyes.

Eren stripped his lower body naked before climbing directly over top of your. You watched with blown pupils as he pressed his body down against you, keeping you protected and secure by the warmth of his skin. Your arms moved to cage him to you, your hands running over his bare back as he kissed you softly, sweetly.

Your lips moved in a gentle fluid motion, Eren’s hands finding your hair, your cheek, your waist, your thigh. He carefully guided the latter over his torso, to which it subconsciously hooked around. Eren continued to whisper sweet nothings into your ear as his hand moved to stroke his length. You took notice and looked down, unwinding one arm from around Eren’s frame to reach down and assist.

Eren’s brows furrowed slightly and his jaw fell slack at the heavenly sensation of your soft hand gliding up and down his girth. He took the opportunity to guide his length toward your entrance, dick aching with anticipation. “Open your legs up a little more for me,” he breathed out softly. You obeyed, wrapping your other thigh around his torso and bending your knees so that he had proper access. “There you go.”

Eren pressed himself slowly into your entrance, a string of curses falling from his mouth as he slid through your gummy walls. The two of you watched as he disappeared inside of you with gaping mouths, your head falling back when he bottomed out.

“Just like that, there it is,” Eren began babbling to himself, keeping his eyes trained downward as he watched his dick slide out of your pussy slowly then back into it with a squelch. “There's my favorite pussy…”

“Eren,” you moaned, wrapping your arms back around his broad shoulders. The said man began to adjust to a rhythm, rocking his hips back and forth, pushing himself deeper into your guts with each slow thrust. You groaned, brows curling upward and eyes blurring over.

“Fuck,” he hissed, the sound of your fluid gushing around his cock falling like a symphony upon his ears. “Fucking…” he trailed off, losing himself in the feeling of your tight walls dragging him back in with each push.

“Oh, fuckkkk,” you moaned, pushing your forehead against Eren’s. His hands gripped your hips tightly as he guided himself back into you over and over again.

“You like that, pretty girl?”

“Yeah,” you breathed.

“Fuck, you’s sucking me in, baby,” Eren strained out through a heavy breath, picking up the pace gradually. He moved skillfully, thrusting himself in and stilling momentarily, deep within you so that you could feel every inch of him occupy your greedy cunt. You cried, dragging your nails down his back as he pulled out and thrusted in faster, deeper.

The sound of skin slapping against skin lifted into the air, cream drooling from the space in which the two were connected as he fucked into you passionately. Your moans jumped with the jerk of Eren’s hips slamming repeatedly into yours, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist.

“You like when I fuck you like this?”

“Yes, ‘Ren,” you cried. “Love it so much!”

“You’re gonna be good, baby? Gonna behave for me now?”

“Yes…” you sighed out.

“Can’t hear you doll, speak up for me like I know you can. Lemme hear that pretty voice.”

“Yes, Eren, I’m yours! I’m all yours,” you gave in, legs trembling around his waist as he kissed sloppily down the base of your neck. His pace quickened once more as he pounded into you relentlessly, holding you down so that you had nowhere to run. You could feel your eyes cross as his dick speared into your soaking sex, your moans growing louder by the second.

“That’s a good girl, see?” he breathed into your ear. “That’s all you had to say baby. Coulda been done with this so long ago if you would have been nicer.”

Eren pulled you up by your waist, keeping the two connected, and sat back on his haunches with your legs still wrapped around his waist. He lifted you up into the air and sank your back down onto his dick, making you feel every inch of him slide through your gut. You cried, clinging to his neck desperately as you fucked yourself on him up and down.

Eren assisted you by guiding your hips and keeping you upright, watching as you bounced on his length and swallowed all of him without hesitation.

“Shit,” Eren groaned. “Fuck, (Y/n), keep moving just like that.”

He tilted his chin to look up at you as you moved, your tits bouncing excitedly. His eyes were half lidded as he gazed at you, sweat dripping from his forehead and sticking loose strands of hair to his skin. His mouth hung open, completely whipped.

“Who does this pussy belong to, baby?” he breathed out raggedly, tongue swiping over his wet lips.

“Ngh, you, Eren, only youuuu!”

“You gonna catch an attitude with me again?”

“No, I won’t, I promise, I promise- fuck!” you wailed.

“Yeah,” he moaned, eyes roaming over your damp skin in amazement. “This dick belongs to you, baby, you know that? Look at me.”

You slowed your movements slightly to meet his gaze, eyes watery and face red. Eren slid one hand up your back to meet your hair as he looked at your and grinded up into your slowly.

“It’s only yours, mama. S’all yours, I’m sorry about today. I didn’t mean to make you mad. I’ll try to be more patient with you, baby, I’ll try to watch how I say things. I promise, ‘cause I love you. You’re the only one who can treat this dick right. You hear me?”

You nodded slowly, moving your hands to his shoulders as you mimicked his movements, lowered yourself, and grinded your pelvis against his hips. Eren groaned out. “Say it.”

“I’m the only one who can treat this dick right,” you whispered, eyes glazing over.

“And who does it belong to?”

“Me.”

“That’s right. That’s right,” he ducked his head into the crook over your shoulder and kissed you softly. “I’m all yours, baby. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, ‘m’sorry.”

You moaned softly, overwhelmed by pleasure and your love for your partner. You continued to roll your hips back and forth, your head rolling over your shoulders as you soaked in the feeling of Eren’s dick nudging your insides. Eren shifted so that his legs were splayed out in front of him and moved his hands to grab your ass. He momentarily forgot that it was still sore from his punishment, and kissed you apologetically when you hissed at the contact. He cradled you softly, guiding your back up and down on his cock.

“Fuck, Eren, you fill me up so good,” you whimpered, burying your face into his neck.

“Lemme see you. Lemme see your face while you bounce on my dick, baby.”

You mustered as much energy as you could to lift your head from his neck and look down at him as you proceeded to bounce, his length reaching your g-spot suddenly. You gasped and paused, leading Eren to grab your waist tightly and guide your back down.

“Don’t run away from it, baby, take it,” he whispered, securing his grip around your hips to fuck up into you, rubbing continuously against your sweet spot. You cried out, gripping his shoulders and digging your nails into his skin.

“Oh god,” you drooled, the sensation of his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust making you clench around him. He wrapped his strong arms around your frame tightly and kept your body pressed against him, watching your face contort with pleasure. “I’m close, Eren, I’m so close.”

“You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna cum on this dick, huh?”

He thrusted into you harder, chasing your tightening walls as his own release built in his gut. He gritted his teeth, eyes glowering with animalistic passion whilst fucking you mercilessly.

You couldn’t hold it any longer. You were falling apart before you could give a warning. Within seconds, Eren was pushed out by a gush of your orgasm. He lifted you up over his dick by your waist and watched you squirt all over his abdomen. Your legs shook violently as you moaned helplessly, eyes disappearing into your skull once more.

“God damn,” Eren murmured as he watched your pussy leak like a broken pipe. It was filthy.

Knowing that you were practically drained of all energy you once had, Eren lifted you up and placed your back onto your stomach. Your face sank into the pillows and your ass arched into the air again subconsciously.

“Such a good girl, so fucking pretty,” Eren marveled as he guided his length back into your gaping, dripping hole. You whimpered and whined, completely overstimulated by the sensation. Eren pressed his palm against your shoulder and he thrusted back up into your walls, discovering his pace once again as he chased his high. He watched your fluid jump out against his skin with each thrust and felt himself getting closer as your walls dragged him deeper, tighter.

“Fuck, yeah, look at this perfect fucking pussy,” he blabbered as you tried to squirm away. “Uh uh, lemme feel you for a little bit longer,” he coaxed as he held you to him by your waist.

Beads of sweat flew from his face and his brows arched, strangled moans leaving his mouth with each slam of his pelvis to your ass and you could do nothing but take it.

You grabbed a fistfull of the sheets and screamed into them, the knot in your gut building once more, so quickly after your last release.

“C’mon, pretty baby, give that shit to me,” Eren mumbled, plowing into your. “Fuck, I’m close.”

“Cum for me, Eren, please,” You cried, tears dripping down your face.

You were drenched, your juices dripping down your inner thighs as Eren and yourself approached your releases.

“I’m cumming, baby. Fuck-” Eren pulled out hastily and spurted his warm seed all over your back. A long, hoarse groan slid from his throat as his thumb smoothed over the fat of your reddened ass and pumped himself dry. You could feel the last of your release slip down your thighs and onto your bed before your body gave out and you slumped flat against the comforter.

Eren took a moment to breathe before realizing that he had cum all over your skin. He looked around and spotted your discarded towel on the floor. He guided the fabric over your body and cleaned you properly, tossing it into the corner when he was done and pulling your limp body into him as he lay down to catch his breath.

You curled into him and rested your head on his chest as his arms embraced you warmly. “You did so good for me,” Eren muttered into your hair, pressing kisses into it as his hand smoothed over the individual braids. “Feel so good, always do. Just rest now, baby.”

You hummed, melting into him, your body completely spent. “You still piss me off,” you mumbled suddenly, and Een’s chest jumped with a laugh.

“I know, baby, so do you.”

#aot #aot x reader #aot x you #aot fandom #aot fanfiction #eren jeager x reader #eren x reader #eren aot #eren smut #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x y/n #eren jaeger x reader

809 notes · View notes