#but still wanted to post in case anyone else had also had this thought | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gotham-daydreams · 9 months ago

Text

Not Now (PT. 2)

[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]

[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Mild General Yandere(ish) Behavior, Arguing, Awkward Tension(?), No One is Having a Good Time, Angst, Implied Past Injuries (To Reader)]

(When I say arguing I do mean it this time. Might be a bit more OOC? Dick is living up to his nickname. This is longer than the first part, just fyi - and by a good 4k or so words. Again, take your time and remember to take breaks!)

Didn't tag anyone on this post since both this part and the first are posted back to back :] Regardless, enjoy!

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3 (PT. 1). [Series Masterlist]

๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑

"I… I just don't think it's a good idea. It doesn't feel right, and- and I…" You couldn't think of much else to say. All the reasons you had felt too personal, and you didn't feel comfortable telling Dick any of them. Not out here, and certainly not while he was in the suit. Though even if he wasn't, you weren't sure that it'd make you any more willing to tell him anything.

After all, you wouldn't even share the date of your birthday if he asked now, with or without the suit.

"Yeah, but why? It doesn't make sense to not go to either place just because you have a ‘bad feeling’ or anything. Even then, you'll be safe, and that's what really matters." That didn't feel like it was the case. Your safety doesn't feel like a priority over him just being able to keep an eye on you, and being able to pull anything he wants to without any prying eyes.

Though it was with that thought, did you wonder when you began to see Dick as someone so untrustworthy that you considered him to be on the same level as a thug out on the streets. Just far more dangerous and capable.

"Look, I just-" You sigh harshly, looking back at Dick as the fire in your chest rose, building up as it poked at your ribs and flesh. Begging for more air, more room to grow. "I'm going to the park. If you're not coming then that's fine by me, and if you're not okay with that, then there's nothing I can do about it." You state, looking forward as you pick up your pace.

Dick fumbles over his words before he hurriedly matches your pace, "Wait! Let's try and think this over-"

"Why? Even if we're out in the open, you're still a vigilante. If you can defend and look after an entire city, then surely you can protect one person, right? Not to mention that I can take care of myself." You huff, still keeping your eyes forward even as they narrow. You add, "Besides, again- not many people are out tonight. And if anything- seem to be rushing home, because of whatever is going on. We'll be fine."

"Sure. Yeah. I can handle it- but wouldn't it be smarter to just be inside anyway? That way it's less likely for anything to happen. You have to think rationally-" You swiftly cut Dick off again, really trying to put your foot down and stand your ground here.

"I am thinking rationally. You're a skilled vigilante that's been trained under Batman, and have only improved in skill and technique over the years. If anything goes wrong, and I can't handle it, you can. Not to mention that you have a way to contact the others if things really do go sideways, and you're in the suit. I didn't think I needed to say anything else." You sigh, lightly scratching the cup in your hands with your nail.

"Also, if you haven't noticed, even criminals and thugs are running home. It's like some kind of quarantine or lock down is going on. Some random person eavesdropping on us doesn't seem like it'll be a problem. Let alone with all of the noises that seem to be 'persuading' people to go home."

Dick could only sigh himself before saying, "Alright- okay. Fine. But like you said, I'm still in the suit."

"And?"

"And someone could see, and think that you're a close tie to me or something. You could be put in more danger."

"Are you actually worried about that now? You've been walking beside me this entire time when you didn't have to, and it's only now that you're worried about me being seen with you in the suit?"

"How else are we supposed to have this conversation? And I'm sorry for being worried about your safety, and well-being in the future for being seen with me." You could practically hear the eye-roll in Dick's voice despite knowing that he didn't actually do it. When did he get so sarcastic?

"That's not the issue, and you know that. We could've figured out some other way to have this talk, and you didn't have to walk beside me this entire time." You shot him a glance, causing Dick to sigh again.

"What if something happened while I was up top, and I couldn't react fast enough because I wasn't next to you? Someone could've tried something if I wasn't there, especially because you'd appear to be by yourself."

"So… remind me again, who's the paranoid one?"

"Y/n, I'm being serious." Dick states.

"I know. I'm being serious too, and I'm just saying that it's kind of ridiculous to be worrying about that now when it's already been a few minutes." You huff, "And I don't know what you expect me to do about it. I'm not the one in the suit, y'know. Why don't you just go and change somewhere?"

Dick rubs his nose bridge, getting annoyed but not trying to show it as he says, "Fine. I can do that, but at least come with me." He looks at you expectantly as his hand drops from his face. You couldn't help but raise a brow at his words.

"Why?"

"So that I can keep an eye on you…? And if anything happens while I'm changing- I'll be able to jump in and help much faster?" Dick said, confused. Talking as if he was stating the obvious, and maybe he was in a way, but you didn't see why he's so adamant about being close to you enough where he could easily protect you or reach you if needed.

"But wouldn't that kind of go against the point of you changing…?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I wait somewhere and Nightwing walks off, only for you-know-who to pop up after a little while, and we walk off together, wouldn't that be weird? Or at least hint at a certain something?" You point out, a little confused and surprised that you even had to explain this to Dick.

"C'mon, I won't be that obvious. And even then, no one will be able to figure it out."

"You say that like every other villain or wannabe in Gotham isn't some genius or anything. They're criminals and all that, but they aren't entirely stupid."

Dick sighs, though it came out more frustrated than he would’ve liked as he ran a hand through his hair once again, "Still, I'd just like for you to at least be close by. I don't want anything to happen to you, and I want to be able to help out as soon and as quickly as I can if anything does." He explains, getting a little closer to you.

"Please, Y/n. Just come with me."

You shake your head, your shoulders feeling far too heavy, and the flame in your chest was much too hot for you to even think about it. You knew Dick wasn't happy about it when he gave you a little room, but still kept close. As if hoping you'd change your mind, despite already knowing the answer.

"I'll just head to the park, and wait a few minutes. I'm not defenseless and can handle myself for a while, and it's not my fault that I could be in more potential danger because someone thought it was a good idea to come see me, and follow me around while in their suit. You can figure it out, and live without me for a few minutes." You huff harshly, adding, "If you aren't there after that time? I'm leaving. That's all." Once again, you pick up your pace, only to be stopped by Dick as he rushes in front of you.

"Wait- hold on. Are you sure about this? I don't think it's a good idea- and how long exactly will you be waiting? Where are you going if you leave? Are you going back to the apartment? Are you going home?" You don't like how hopeful Dick looked when he asked you that last question, but you push your discomfort to the side, and stand your ground.

"I'm an adult, and I'm a L/n. I'm sure about this. You can think whatever you want, and like I said- I'll be waiting a few minutes. If you're not there by then, I'm going to leave." You narrow your eyes at Dick, piercing him with your gaze as you said, "I've made my choice and I'm sticking to it. If you're not happy about it, or don't agree, then you can leave and I'll go on with my night. I'll wait at the park, and that's that." You state one final time before making your way around Dick, and continuing to walk forward. Luckily, he didn't try to stop you again, and if anything — seemed to stop following you entirely.

All you heard was a low scoff from behind you, and the rush of wind.

When you glance back, Dick was gone, and it was only then did you realize how heavy the air felt. Releasing the breath you didn't know you had been holding, you clutch your chest. Your heart aches, and yet you manage to push on.

Tonight wasn't exactly going well for you, but that almost tipped you over the edge.

You were beginning to hate many things about tonight, along with Dick. It almost made you think that maybe you were lucky back when he hardly ever noticed or talked to you. It made things easier, after all, and of course now that you've had your longest conversation with him — things were only getting harder.

Every word he said made him seem bigger, or pushed you down as an attempt to make you smaller. His reasoning could go from making complete sense, to being outright idiotic and paranoid. With each action of his being either too small or way too much.

Dick, in that way, was too much.

You could chalk up some of your discomfort and nervousness to your lack of experience with Dick, and being around him. Of course some of his antics and habits would seem strange to you — since you were never able to see much of them, and those that you did notice were from a far, and never up close. You weren't able to experience them yourself, not until now. Though that almost made you grateful for all the times he turned you down or ignored you, seeing as now you could only see how much of a handful he is to deal with.

Maybe that could've changed if you were more familiar with him, but it was too late for that now. Even if you did wonder how this whole thing would've gone if you did know him. If you were more familiar with how Dick acted, and had actually managed to spend time with him. If Dick was more familiar with you, and how that'd change this whole situation… but, again, it was much too late for that. If he really wanted to know you, he would've taken one of the chances you gave him over the years, and yet he didn't. No one did. No one except for Alfred…

You hope he's okay, at least.

Shaking your head, you push your thoughts to the side. There was no use thinking about 'what if's, not when such thoughts and possibilities kept you in the manor for so long. Not when your mind used them against you, and had you keep that pathetic hope you once desperately clung onto. You promised yourself you wouldn't do that anymore, and so you took a breath, and tried to stop them from coming in. They always slip by, but you try to ignore them. Especially since they caused you so much trouble that could have easily been avoided in the past.

You took a small sip of your coffee, only to pull it away and look at the cup strangely.

It was… bitter. More so than you remember, and it immediately struck you as odd. Since, Jessica always managed to make your coffee the exact same way every time, and even if she did make some mistakes here and there, the change was never this significant or noticeable. Not like it was now, with the taste lingering on your tongue, almost trying to further stain your taste buds and remain there for as long as possible. As if trying to permanently ingrain itself in your mouth.

You couldn't help but cringe a bit. Maybe getting coffee really was a bad idea after all…

Sighing, you just continue on and brush the weird occurrence to the side. Whatever, you have enough things to deal with and worry about now. There wasn't much you could do about the coffee, and if anything, maybe that just went to further show how horrible your night is going thanks to Dick.

Though, you wouldn't push it that far, even if your opinion of him was definitely souring by the minute, but the thought was pretty funny to think about, at least.

The night felt calm for once, and it’s only now, with you by yourself, do you realize how much you needed this.

Sure, Gotham was potentially going to hell, and you might see Dick again in a few minutes, but you don't have to worry about that right now. Just here, in the streets, did you have… normal problems. Problems unrelated to a family you no longer wanted to involve yourself with, that also just so happened to be made up of vigilantes. Problems that didn't involve your musical career, and how your rise to fame was becoming both an inconvenience, and a bit of an issue. Problems that… just about everyone has dealt with one way or another.

Your coffee didn't taste quite right, you felt exhausted despite having only walked a bit, and your social battery was just about to hit its limit. The air was just a tad too cold for the clothes you were wearing, you had a strong desire to crawl into bed and sleep like you had nothing else to worry about, and really — besides yourself and making a few dumb mistakes, the only thing you really had to worry about here was getting mugged. Maybe even jumped, at a push.

Yet, such things got a light, airy laugh out of you. You felt so at ease by yourself, and during the most dangerous hours of the night, no less. Despite everything, you couldn't help but find a bit of humor in it, and such a little thing even made you feel better. That uncomfortable heat in your chest dying down, and almost going away entirely as you cooled off.

As funny as it was, you felt safer and so much more at ease without the person that was so adamant about wanting to do all of these things, to protect you. How could you not laugh at the irony?

Suddenly, the bitter taste on your tongue didn't feel so bad anymore.

Walking along Gotham streets when it was so quiet still made you feel a bit uneasy, but for the time being you were able to find some small peace with it. After all, who knew when you'd get another breather like this? Especially with whatever business Dick had with you. Vigilante and hero work wasn't exactly known to be light and easy, after all.

So, you took this moment as it is. Finding odd little details in the night that helped you relax as much as you could before things continued.

Honestly, you didn't think you were ready for whatever Dick was about to talk about or mention, but you doubt any of it could surprise you. After all, in a city where a villain breaking out of the local prison or asylum every now and again during the week was normal, it was hard to be surprised by things related to such occurrences. Since, it even felt like someone was trying to blow up the place at least twice a month, and robberies were so common that it was a wonder that anyone had any fortune left to protect at all.

Though it did still make you curious about what’s going on.

Obviously, it couldn't be any good, but it just seems too… quiet to be anyone that Gotham had already seen before. Seeing as the usual villains and whatnot always made some kind of mess, or made things as extravagant and entertaining as possible. Almost like a certain clown that loved to try and run circles around a certain bat.

Regardless of that, however, you were still more curious about why Dick — or any of the others, really — had bothered to seek you out at all. Sure, the first thing that came to mind was that they need you for something, rather that be for help or something else entirely, but that's only because it made the most sense to you. Why else would they try to find out where you live? You couldn't think of another reason. Though, again, maybe that was because they had ignored you for so long? Even then, you can't think of anything else.

Besides help and such, nothing else made any logical sense to you. There is no other reason. There couldn't be, and if there is — you couldn't think of it. They couldn't just be here for you. They almost weren't capable of it. You're sure, since they have made it very clear a long time ago. You were just too naive and blind to see it at first, but now you did, and you don't plan on becoming blind to that again…

Nevertheless, you continue on your little path.

Now that Dick wasn't with you, your journey to the park was short, and much more peaceful and quiet. It was almost calm in an odd way, but you appreciated it all the same.

The park held that strange feeling of abandonment and emptiness that most of Gotham seemed to have tonight — thanks to whatever was going on — but you manage to ignore it for the most part. Making your way around the park, your pace was slower and your breath was a bit heavier. You felt like you were prolonging the inevitable, and such a feeling spawned so much dread that you almost choked on it. However, you manage, and instead try to find a good place to sit and wait for the time being.

Sure, it would be easy to leave and just go on with your night, but you did want to stay true to your word even if only a little. It's the least you could do, since this would be the last thing you'd ever do for any of them, anyway.

Besides, you were better than them in that way — following through with what you said, instead of saying a ‘maybe’ that'll never come, or a ‘next time’ that'll never arrive. Always stuck to a tomorrow that was always just out of reach.

Your words held meaning, unlike theirs.

Moving on, you eventually found a good spot. It was closer to the center of the park, and the moon could be seen as clearly as it could be with all of the clouds passing by, and building up. The air had an odd moist and damp feeling to it, and it made you think that it might rain after all, seeing as you remember hearing something about it earlier in the day. Yet, that just gave you all the more reason to hope that this whole thing would be wrapped up soon. Though whether that happened with Dick not showing up, or him making good time and keeping things short and simple, you didn't care.

Even if you did hope that he just wouldn't show. For both his sake, and your own.

Settling down on a park bench off to the side of the path, you took a big breath, before letting it all out. You still don't have a good feeling about this, but you'd take all the little victories you could. Since, you managed to avoid going to the manor and clock tower by some miracle, and even got Dick to leave you alone for a little while. Even if a small part of yourself did wish that you had pissed him off enough for him to leave you alone, you wouldn't count on it. He seemed oddly stubborn about sticking around, or to at least keep you around him, and though it made you feel uncomfortable, it unfortunately meant that there was a chance that he'd actually show up again.

You'd pray if you had any faith left, but you don't. Not at the moment, and certainly not with that possibility hanging over your head, just waiting to drop and crush you under its weight. Though for now, you'd try to not think about it as you look around, taking in the dark scenery instead.

The darkness of the night shaded over the park in an ominous, beautiful way. With the trees looming over you, and their leaves providing more shade than necessary. As if trying to protect you from the moon's stare as much as they could. The clouds slowly crawled over the sky, waiting for the perfect opportunity to drop all they were carrying — and leave the burden for Gotham to hold. They covered what could be made out of the blank, pitch black void that was the night sky, with the moon trying its hardest to shine through. To take a glimpse of the chaos below, and judge you in its silence.

A loose breeze drifts by, causing you to shiver thanks to its added chill over the night's natural coolness. The sounds of nature were hardly audible, as if even the insects have been silenced by whatever is going on, and the only thing you could hear was that constant, sickening snapping and cracking of broken bones, and that popping from joints getting dislocated. Even if such noises were much fainter now, thanks to the spot you've chosen, they still managed to reach you here, and dominate all other noises that tried to make themselves known, with its echo.

You could only sympathize with their desperation to be heard, to be noticed — only for the violence to cover all of their efforts. Maybe you'd even pity them, but you already felt foolish over your emotions, and feeling sympathy over noises was silly enough. You have already made enough humorous and dumb choices tonight, so you'd at least try to not make another. Even if you bothering to actually wait here, instead of leaving right away, is dumb enough.

You don't know if it was hilarious or sad how many stupid choices you’re making in one night, and all because of the people you are trying to leave behind. People you were so sure would never bother to look for you or even give you a single thought, and yet here you are now. Waiting for one of them to show up – only because suddenly he couldn't leave you alone. Almost like he couldn't afford to, and now you couldn't help but debate over the humor and sadness of that.

Of course it had to be now, it had to be tonight, that one of them showed up - but you don't know what exactly you're expecting. After all, if one of them were to try and show their face to you despite everything, it would be at the worst time possible. It felt fitting in an odd way, so maybe it was only right that things went down like this. That life throw one of the biggest ‘fuck you's it could at you, during a time where you are trying to recover. To heal. To get better.

Of course he just had to show his face when you were done with him — with them, and their whole family. It had to be now, when you're trying to move on, did an effort have to be made. It couldn't be while you were in the manor - when you were trying to do the same.

… Maybe you should've let him bust open the door to your apartment after all, and just ran away while you still had the chance.

Yet, as if knowing you were thinking of walking away while he still wasn't around, Dick finally appeared and made himself known with a little whistle.

You turn your head and face him, his appearance almost making you laugh, but you didn't have it in you to do so. Much too exhausted and fatigued to even try, and your feelings were too mixed up to even consider the thought. Though you did have to admit, he did look a little funny.

Dick almost looked out of breath, but he still manages a smile when you turn to look at him. The clothes he wore looked strangely baggy, and you could've sworn that you saw the smallest glimpses of various price tags that were tucked away sloppily. Which made it look like he really was in a rush, and… well, you didn't know how to feel about that. Yet, in that same moment, you caught the tiniest bit of his suit right under the shirt he wore. Further ‘hinting’ at the fact that Dick had been in such a hurry that he didn't actually bother to change, and instead opted to cover up his suit.

His mask was off, at least, and for a moment you wondered where he put it until you noticed him subtly stuffing something in his pocket. Which is funny as it is concerning.

Dick wore an oversized coat that he left open, with a collar shirt underneath that had two of the buttons unbuttoned, along with sweatpants and shoes that didn't quite look his size. All in all, he looked like a mess, but Wayne's look good in everything for a reason, you suppose.

“Made it just in time! I told you I would, didn't I?” Dick chuckles, still holding onto the coffee you had given him earlier with one hand. The smile on his face quickly grew into a playful smirk, and you didn't know if you should find it weird or oddly scary how much closer he seems to be to the side of him you've only seen at a distance before. The side you have seen at galas or with his family, occasionally. A side you didn't have any personal experience with until now, and the dread you felt from before only grew at that.

“Um, no, you didn't-” You try to point out, only for him to cut you off.

“Well, it probably just slipped my mind, but I'm here now!” He muses, and you can’t help but find his tone off putting considering how things ended off a few minutes ago. He both looks and sounds way too happy for someone who was so annoyed with you before.

“I didn't keep you waiting, did I?” Dick steps closer, making his way over to you casually. Not a single trace of his previous demeanor could be found.

You can't help but move a little further away, and bite your tongue. You hoped he would've, that he did, but unfortunately he did make good time. Since, from the moment you sat down, Dick appeared only a minute after, and had it not been for his messy outfit, you would've thought that he had planned this whole thing out — down to the very last second.

“No…” You drag on, looking away once again, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

Yet, despite the implications of it, Dick couldn't help but find it… cute, in an odd way. Causing him to exhale softly, his smirk dying back down into a smile. Blue hues shining as they look down at you.

He moves to sit down on the bench — noticing a spot next to you, but deciding to sit beside you instead. Still remaining close, but not getting in your space entirely, since he felt like you both weren't at that point just yet. There was an armrest between the both of you, and he felt as if that'd be enough for now. Even if he did want to move closer, he decides that this was the least he could do for having been ignoring your discomfort and clear nervousness thus far.

While he still couldn’t fully bring himself to acknowledge or accept it — since he still doesn't want to think about it — he at least wants to try and do this small thing for you.

Though, the space between you and him would never be big enough for you to be comfortable. Since just knowing he was around, and that you were in his space, already made you feel a certain way, but he didn't have to know that. Not that you would tell him, anyway.

Dick took this little opportunity to take a slow, long sip of his coffee. The drink not quite to his liking, but he wouldn't complain since you seem to like that little diner, and the last thing he wants is for your opinion of him to get worse, so he kept his mouth shut. Besides, it wasn't even that bad anyway, especially knowing that it came from a place that you enjoy going to.

Silence was quick to fall over the both of you again. Yet, this time, Dick didn't exactly have a problem with it.

Even if you weren't looking at him, he could still see that little twinkle in your eyes that the faint bits of moonlight were able to show and make clear. How your hair matched you just right, and the way you did it and took care of it completed your look even more. Along with how even the little things on your person said so much, yet so little, about who you are now. About who you have become after all this time.

A sense of endearment and sentimentality suddenly washes over Dick, and he can't help but feel as if it were just yesterday that you were introduced to the whole family. Though he still couldn't quite describe the look in your eyes then, as there was an unmistakable hint of excitement and unfounded joy that lingered when you first met them all. When you first met him.

You were such a little thing back then, and you have grown so much since. Dick still can't help but think about it even as he finally pulls the cup away from his lips, and sighs, content.

You were so small, and little. Your face round and youthful, hands soft and delicate - just like everything about you at the time. The world and the people in it were still so new to you, and you looked just about ready to explore it all. To see every little thing you could, and learn about everything that you found. ‘Wonder’ was the first word he thought of when he saw you that day, and looked at your expression. It was full of that child wonderment.

Yet… look at you now. Grown, and significantly taller than you were before. Face matured and settled, but still did have a youthful look to it. He notes how your hands did seem to be a bit rougher, and instead of delicacy, he found a gentleness that was always there — but is more prominent now. That look of wonder gone, and now replaced with something more. Something complicated and complex in nature, and yet simple all the same. There's a sense of turmoil but… he couldn't look much deeper than that. He can't bring himself to.

Point is, you have clearly changed.

Sure, he noted how you looked different and everything before, but now that same conclusion felt different in a strange way. Though maybe that was because he wasn't only looking at you now, but seeing you as well.

Dick doesn't just see the change in your clothes, and how your voice has changed its tempo and volume, but some other things as well. Maybe that's because he's able to connect some things he's learned about you over the course of the entire day, back to you and how you showed yourself now. How those details presented themselves in your appearance and mannerisms.

It’s a lot to take in, sure, but in this moment of silence - Dick found himself slowly absorbing all of this information, taking it all in and finding ways to love you through it. Even if the changes made a particular fact all the more clear — despite the time he has missed, he did genuinely love the person you have become. He does now, at least.

Despite everything he has done to you, or lack thereof, you have managed so much on your own. Despite him and the family not being around when they could've, when they should've, you managed to pave your own path and face all the challenges it brought by yourself - from what Dick could tell anyway. Even if he wasn't fully aware of all you have gone through in his absence, and he knew that as well – you’re still here. You're sitting beside him, looking at the scenery of the park, coffee cup in hand, and just… living in this moment with him.

Dick didn't know when such small things made him feel so happy or content, but in this moment, with you, it's like all he could feel was happy and put together, in a weird way. He doesn't know how to describe it, but now that he's here with you, in your space and presence, he feels… whole. Complete. Like all the missing pieces he didn't even notice were gone, all fell into place when you were around. With you here with him, he feels the happiest he's been in a long while, and he couldn't even begin to explain why.

He's only really known you for a day, but it already felt like he's spent a lifetime with you.

“Hey… Y/n?” He spoke up, breaking the silence between the both of you, looking back at the coffee cup in his hands. “I just want to say that… I'm happy you're here, and that you let me see you.” He begins, slowly looking back at you, an easy but pleasant smile on his face. It was easily the most natural one he's shown you tonight, and his clear unannounced happiness, no matter how light, made the pit in your stomach grow deeper and wider.

Why is he looking at you like that? And why did it hurt to see it now? Why did it relight the fire in your chest, and make it burn - the flames barely tickling your chest from the inside? Why did you feel like this? What did you do to cause him to wear such a smile?

Why now? What was going on?

“I know we haven't talked much, or really hung out, but this… this is nice for what it's worth, and I'm happy that I get the chance to spend this time with you despite everything.” The small bits of moonlight shined in his eyes, almost making Dick appear better than he was. More friendly, charming, and brighter than you saw him as. You couldn't stand the sight. Your dread growing much too big for you to keep looking at him.

So, you look away. Hoping that Dick would get whatever kind of message you were trying to send - and yet, even if he saw it, he didn't bother to decipher it. Words tumbling out of his mouth before he could think them over, too deep in his own feelings to see yours. Though he doesn't seem to mind as he said the words that began to fill his heart, and let them out into the open air. The wind whisking them away, and shoving them into your ears.

“You… mean a lot to me, and I know that, again, we haven’t really done much together, or really spent the most time together either, but- you matter to me. You’re important to me, and I’m sorry that was never made clear before.” He blurts out, heart aching and swelling at his own words, but Dick just couldn’t help himself. He feels like he needs to say something, to say this, and he doesn't want to have to wait any longer to say it. Even if you don’t like him or saw him a certain way, he wants to at least say this. To tell you his truth - his new truth. A truth that is becoming more clear to him as the seconds pass. Seconds he spent with you. “I know that I’ve messed up- a lot, and I know that it isn’t just me that made things turn out like this, but I at least want to let you know that I do care about you. I just…” Dick ran a hand through his hair, pausing for a moment as countless words he wanted to say float around in his head, but he just didn't know how to say them. Or even say them in a way that would get you to understand, or at least hear him out.

He looks away for a moment before looking back at you. Hand dropping and folding around his cup once again. “I’m sorry, for everything. For missing your concerts and performances, and just- everything. I should’ve been there, and even if I was busy, that isn’t an excuse. I should’ve made time for you, I could’ve, and yet it just always slipped my mind and… I should’ve never done that to you. You didn’t- you don’t deserve to go through that, you didn’t have to, and yet you did, and I’m just.. so sorry that now is the time that I’m realizing this. You… you deserve so much more than what we gave you, and I’m sorry if that made you feel any less than what you are- because you are amazing, and wonderful, and bright-!”

“You’re.. you’re a lot of things, and I really couldn’t list them all since I’m still slowly seeing it all for myself. Though even then, we’d be here for a while… wouldn’t we?” Dick chuckles lightly, a tinge of endearment in his tone, with a hint of a softness that was slowly becoming more and more apparent as he went on. His expression softened even more, and yet all you could feel was dread and anger that grew with each sentence that fell out of his mouth.

Was he messing with you? Was Dick trying to make himself feel better about everything, or just mess you up even more? Maybe both?

Why was he saying all of this now? Why tonight? Why now of all times? His words… they couldn’t be true. They can’t be. If they were, if they are – then why did he wait so long? How come he didn’t realize anything sooner? Why couldn’t he realize it sooner? Why now? Why right this minute, when you were almost ready to let go?

Why is he trying to give you hope over a future, a dream, a wish you never thought would come true? That they, indirectly or not, made you believe would never be made into a reality? No matter how much you did, and sacrificed for them behind the scenes? Was he trying to trick you? Did he really believe that you’d allow yourself to become blind again? That you could actually take the little words that he’s saying to you at face value, after all this time? After all of your wasted effort?

Did he really think that he could salvage what little remained of your nonexistent relationship with him, with just a few words and soft smiles? That you would just suddenly be willing to let him back into your life, after you spent the last year or so just trying to make it so that once you left, you’d never have to turn back? After everything he and the others put you through?

You understood that they were busy. That protecting Gotham and Bludhaven were more important to them than you’d ever be. That they care more about their work and their own lives than they never will about anything you’d try to say to them - you understood that well. It was almost impossible not too with how long you’ve had to deal with it, and come to terms with everything over the few months you’ve given yourself to truly soak everything in and reflect. The one time you gave yourself a breather to process all that's happened over the years you wasted on them, and think about how you are going to move forward in your life. How you’re going to deal with the family moving forward, or if you’d ever bother to deal with them at all. Though, you're still in that process, and had yet to really think about what you’d do moving forward.

Yet, Dick just had to show up while you were in that process. He just had to show his face after so long, and do this to you. Torment you with his words, and cause further conflict inside of you that you don’t need. Causing more heartache and pain that you didn’t want, and yet he just had to keep going, he had to keep talking. He couldn’t just walk away again like he had all of those other times when you were fighting to spend time with him, to just mean something to him. Dick just had to show up, and lie to your face about this. He just had to finally notice you, and hurt you more.

“I’m… I’m just really glad I got to see you is all I’m trying to say, I guess. And that I missed you too, in all honesty.”

So he keeps going, it seems. He just has to say that, like you’d believe him. Like you’d truly think that he cared about you more than the criminals in Gotham did. Like he wasn’t just lying to your face in an attempt to try and hurt you more. To crush what little part of your heart you still had given to them, and destroy it entirely.

Honestly, now it was like he's trying to get you to hate him. To rid of the memories where you used to look up to him, and really tried to see him as your older brother until the reality of it all crushed you. Until reality forced your eyes open, and made you realize the little you had, and the little he cared.

Your own anger was beginning to blind you, and your hatred grew within you - though you hardly found a part of yourself that cared anymore.

Even if Dick’s words are true to him, they aren't to you, and that’s all you cared about. Since, as far as you know, they were never true until he suddenly felt bad, and this whole thing started.

However, you still try to remain civil. Just taking in a breath, and sighing before looking back at Dick. Exhaustion becoming more evident, anger and hatred beginning to bloom – but you manage to tuck it away for now. No matter how frustrated Dick makes you, you could keep your composer. You could keep yourself together, and by God would you try no matter how much you want to just get up and leave. No matter how much you want to think that he wasn’t worth the time or energy. At least, not anymore.

“Dick, just tell me why you’re here.” You say, getting straight to the point and seemingly completely ignoring what he said before. Not taking his words to heart, no matter how much they sting and add fuel to the flame growing in your chest.

Dick looks at you confused, a little taken aback by your response, but just pushes it to the side. Only raising a brow, managing to keep up his smile, “What do you mean? I told you already, silly.” He chuckles a bit, his words already pinching at your skin.

“I’m here to see you.”

‘Bullshit.’ You immediately thought, but don’t say out loud. Not yet, anyway.

“It’s obvious that something’s going on, I mean- do you hear the sounds echoing throughout Gotham? Or, hell, how quiet it is besides said noises?” You ask, tone shifting with every word that spilled out of your mouth, undertone unclear, but Dick didn’t like it. “You don’t have to explain what’s going on, but please, just tell me how or if I can help so that we can both go on with our nights? I know you don’t have time for this. Both of us don’t.”

Dick can only furrow his brows in response, his confusion growing the more you spoke, but also worried about the tone you’re using with him. A tone that was growing increasingly harsh.

“What are you talking about? I never said I needed your help with anything, and didn’t I already mention that the others are handling the situation?” Dick said, genuinely confused, and yet that only seems to make the flame in your chest burn brighter.

“Then what are you doing here? Why are we even talking right now if you don’t need anything from me?” You ask, voice rising in volume a bit before you bring it back down. The little stings Dick’s words left on your skin turning into a grip around your heart.

“I’ve already told you, Y/n…. I just wanted to see you.” Dick said again, growing a little more worried now.

“Yes, but why? What made you want to see me so badly that you even went out of your way to find out where I live?” You couldn’t help but ask, frustration growing but so did your desperation. Over what, you don’t know, but all you knew was that you want this to be over. You want to go home. You want to be away from Dick. From them.

Even if your home probably wouldn’t feel as safe anymore now that they knew where it is, and you knew that too, but couldn't find it in yourself to care. Anywhere that wasn't in the immediate vicinity of Dick felt better than being here, with him at arm's length.

“I need a reason to see my younger sibling now? I can’t just come visit them?” Dick asks, still worried and confused, yes, but an odd tone of sarcasm seemed to develop under his tongue.

“After months of no contact? After all that’s happened?” You say as a meaningless, humorless laugh escapes you before your voice drops and cements itself, “Yes. Yes you do, because you’ve never visited me before. You’ve never gone out of your way like this, not even to see me in my own room. So why now? Why tonight? Why come see me?”

Your words stung Dick, and you can tell with how he flinches a bit at your words, if only for a brief moment. He even cringes a little, as if they have physically hurt him, but you didn’t react much. You want to know why, because it made no sense to you, and by God did you deserve an answer.

There is no reason why he should’ve come to see you, none. You aren’t related to him, and even if you are by law, he’s never treated you like family in the past - just someone else who lives in the manor, but over time you began to believe that he started to forget that too, with how he’d grow increasingly surprised by seeing you in person when he'd occasionally visit.

You meant nothing to him, last you checked. So what was so important that he and the others needed to find out where you live, and seek you out like this? What was going on?

From how you look at Dick, he can tell you wanted to know. That you want a ‘real’ answer, one that you’d accept, anyway. Along with the fact that you aren’t going to take your words back, finding them to be nothing less than true, and even if they are, they don’t hurt any less. Especially considering how far he’s come today. How much he’s seen, and how his view is beginning to change. How you were growing on him without even knowing it, making him realize that some of it isn’t even you to begin with. Though there wasn’t much he could do about that, not right now. Not with you getting worked up like this, and not with how he's beginning to hurt too.

The truth hurt, it almost always did. Never sparing anyone, and almost acting as a sword rather than weight. A dagger than another page, but paper cuts did exist for a reason – he supposes.

“I.. I know that it might seem hard to believe, considering everything, but that really is all there is to it.” Dick says, trying to explain as he clutches onto the coffee cup in his hands, “I just want to see you because I was worried, and I… I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all.”

“Then what about the others? Why find out where I live? What’s with all the noise?” Your desperation was becoming a little clearer as you spoke quickly, the questions falling out of your mouth as your heart began to squeeze tightly. The smoke that the fire in your chest was creating, started to reach and fill your lungs little by little with each passing second.

“The others are busy taking care of the city, and how else am I supposed to see you? You weren’t answering any of my or Tim’s calls or texts. We…” Dick drags on a little before just sighing, looking dejected, “I was worried about you- I am worried about you. I thought something happened, and I had to know if something did. Is that so wrong? Can I not check on my younger siblings anymore?”

“That's not what I meant, and you know that.” You point out straight away, but did falter the slightest bit when he mentions how you were ignoring them trying to contact you earlier. However, you didn't back down. “And both of you just started contacting me today. I didn't have any time to answer either of you before you showed up at my door.”

“Really? You had absolutely no time at all to pick up the phone? Not even send a quick message, or even read our texts?”

“I was busy? And was doing something else, so I couldn't get to the phone right away.”

“For several hours? Y/n, you've got to be kidding me.” Dick chuckles out, obviously not believing you, which ticks you off even more.

“What, so I can't do other things? I have to be at your every beck and call, now?” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “None of you have ever contacted me first, so I'm sorry that I didn't have any time to respond to whatever you both had to say. I have my own life to deal with, you do know that, right?”

“That's not what I-” Dick cuts himself off, just letting out a sigh before speaking again after thinking over how to reword what he wants to say, “Look, just- what was so important that made it so you couldn't answer the phone?” He asks instead, searching your expression for something, and furrowing his brows when he couldn't find it.

“... That's none of your business.” You answer instead, narrowing your eyes at him a little. Whatever you did in your life, he didn't have to know. He doesn't have the right to know, not anymore. You may have been willing to offer him this one chance to ask something from you to help with whatever is going on, but that was all, and where your generosity ended. It wasn't a chance to reconnect, or to rebuild what never was, and still isn't.

If there's anything that this whole situation has told you, it's that you shouldn't have tried in the first place - and that maybe, just maybe, you should've left sooner. That was clear to you now.

“...” It's like Dick could tell things were getting worse this way. He didn't know what was causing it or how, but he could feel it. Especially with how you were growing increasingly upset, and how he was as well.

So, he tried to settle down a little and just took a breath. At this rate, he could only dread how things would get, and so he at least tried to change the direction of things a bit. Yet, he still couldn't help himself either. Maybe he didn't deserve to know, but he did want to ask.

“Look, just-” he tries to find the words to say, to not make this whole thing worse than it already is, and settles on a simpler question. One he figures you can handle, one he hopes does what he wants it to do. “Can you at least tell me why you keep ignoring me when I say that I'm here to see you? Or at least why you just… brush it off?” Dick manages to say, eyes never once leaving you, but for a different reason this time.

He just wants you to open up, but how could you do that when he kept you out for so long? When he locked that door so long ago, and forgot where he left the key? Leaving him to never know of the chair you left right under the handle.

“... What do you-”

“You know what I'm talking about, Y/n, just… please.” Dick almost pleads, which makes you uncomfortable. Causing you to press your lips into a thin line once again, “I don't want this to…” he doesn't want to say it outloud. He couldn't bring himself to. Especially when he doesn't want it to be true. To be made into reality.

“I just want to know, Y/n. So please, just tell me? Because I don't understand why you keep avoiding it, or just don't acknowledge it at all.” Dick says instead, which causes you to grow quiet in the process.

“...”

You couldn't think of anything to say, just being able to look at him before glancing away and taking in a breath of your own. You couldn't bring yourself to answer the question because - what were you supposed to say? What are you supposed to say? The truth? Or make up a lie? Though even if you picked one or the other, would it be for yourself? Or for Dick?

You didn't know, and a special kind of uncertainty came with that, jabbing your gut and making the flame within you crackle harshly. You hate this. You hate this more than what their inaction did to you, and almost as much as the realization that it's because of them that you're in this position to begin with.

“Why do you think?” You begin, emotions and thoughts swarming in your head and squeezing your heart. You want to not care, to brush it all off as you have before, but only find yourself hurting despite everything. Why does your chest hurt so much? Why did it feel like something was pressing against it, threatening to pierce it? “Why do you think that I'm ‘ignoring’ it or just… dismiss it?”

Dick hates how you look away, and the swirl of emotion he saw in your eyes when you looked at him before. Which only made his own emotions grow like a heavy weight, threatening to fall on him. To crush him, and only leave the tiniest parts of himself behind. Parts that still hung onto that false hope he made himself.

He knew, or at least had an idea, but he ignored it. Dick wants to hear it from you, even if he doesn't know what he's hoping for with that. He knows of his faults, and yet not the entirety of them - at least, that was the impression he was getting from all of this.

He isn't blind, but there are only so many things he could let himself see before the ugliness of it all rears its head at him, and snarls. Before the quiet part that he refuses to glance at, becomes loud.

“I… I don't know,” Dick manages to say after a moment, still looking at you as he searches for something, anything that will point things in a different direction. Something that will give the little hope he has anything to cling on to.

Something he doesn't find.

He takes in another breath, “Can you please just… tell me? I do want to know, I really do- so just, please. Tell me why you keep ignoring what I'm saying?”

“I'm not-” You cut yourself off, speaking before you could come up with a response, the words tumbling out of your mouth quickly before you caught yourself and take in a slow, uneven breath. “I'm not ignoring what you're saying. I'm not, but- just…” You drag on before finally letting out a sigh. Some of the tension freeing itself from your body, but not enough for it to let you truly calm down or relax.

“What do you expect me to do? To say?” You finally manage to voice it outloud, to ask as you look back at Dick briefly. With the moon trying its hardest to peek through the clouds as they begin to fill and crowd the sky. “You haven't checked up on me in all the years I was in the manor, and, hell, I doubt you even know where my room is-”

“I know where it is.”

“- and even if you do, that doesn't change what happened. Or, really, what didn't.” You narrow your eyes at Dick's sudden words, but don't comment on them as you continue, voice wavering slightly, “You've… never checked up on me before, or even asked me if I was okay- we barely even greeted each other, and I didn't see you around all that often. I didn't get to. So I'm sorry if it's hard for me to believe that you just suddenly care, or want to check up on me after all this time.” You say, still biting your tongue and holding yourself back from sharing more than you should. From giving more than you already have.

“...” Dick's lips press into a thin line before he goes to speak again, “I understand that, but… why can't that change now? Why can't I care about you now?”

“It isn't about what you can and can't do, Dick. Nor what can be changed now or not, it's…” A quick, small groan escapes you as you try to gather the words you want to say, and finally let them out when you do, “it's what I'm used to, Dick. That's just how it is.”

Finally, dread made its way into Dick’s heart as well, “So… that's it? You're just ‘used to it’? And I can't change that?”

“I don’t know, can you?” You asked sarcastically in a dead tone, already tired of all of this, and yet the fire in your chest continues to burn ever so brightly. “You haven’t really done a good job of that thus far, if that's what you’re trying to do. I’ll say that much.” Your words hurt, you could tell right away. The way he looked at you said everything, but you didn’t try to look deeper than what presented itself on the surface.

“This isn’t some kind of…. ‘reconnecting session’, stuff like that doesn’t really matter. I thought something serious- something important was going on, or had happened, that’s why I bothered with… all of this.” You point out and explain, only watching as the expression on Dick’s face morphed into something else. Something you couldn’t decipher, but didn’t like looking at. A face that made your stomach twist, with dread pouring out of every crevasse it could manage.

“And why would you think that? I don’t remember saying anything that would hint at that, and even then I would’ve said it outright.”

“You suddenly appeared at my door in the suit, and at some point was banging on it. How could I not think something was going on? Or that you didn’t need something from me? That something serious wasn’t happening? Especially when I don’t remember telling any of you where I live-”

“Okay, okay. I… I get it,” He didn’t, at least maybe not to the extent one would hope he would, but he didn’t want to argue. Not here, and not with you. Especially not when he was really beginning to see you. “But still… I want to change that. I want to make it up to you and fix things. Is that so bad?”

“...” You had no response to that, but even if you did, what could you say? You had imagined countless instances like this, but those situations weren’t real — this one was. In those scenarios, you always had something to say, rather it be good or bad, and you always knew what to do. Yet here, now that it was actually happening, you had nothing. You didn’t know what to do or say, and even if you did have some things you wanted to just let spill out, you kept them in. You didn’t want things to get worse either, but the more Dick talked, the harder that became.

Why couldn’t he just be the person from your thoughts and dreams? The person you always saw him as until now?

“I just…” Dick tries to gather his thoughts, not exactly liking your silence but trying to push on anyway. He finally had a chance, and he’d be damned to not take it. “I want to make things right, and yeah, maybe it's late- really, um, late, but I still want to try.” He manages to say, taking a small, quick breath before he continues, an easy smile trying to settle on his face.

“You deserve better, and I want to be better for you. Things may not be the same, and sure, it might be a bit awkward-” He chuckles slightly in between his words, “-but I think that we can… work it out if you just give it a try. Give me a chance-”

“But I did.” You manage to say, cutting Dick off. He has to fight for his smile to not falter immediately, unaware of how your heart pounded harshly in your chest, the fire it held growing and clawing at the bars of its cage that was your ribs and flesh. Scorching your lungs, and the smoke causing your throat to close, making it harder to breathe.

“... What?” Dick said, partially confused but still trying to at least seem optimistic. A weight of its own beginning to press down on him.

“... What do you think I did all of this time?” You ask, looking away for a moment, glancing up at the covered moon before looking back at Dick, “What do you think I did all of those years I spent at the manor? Before I decided to move out, and be on my own?”

“...” Dick didn’t have an answer, not one he said right away, anyway. Not one that wouldn’t make him look bad, but he didn’t know what was worse. Staying quiet when he knew a part of it, or saying the part he knew and risk being wrong, revealing how he still didn’t know the full picture despite everything. Despite getting a glance into a life he knew he wasn’t involved in, and feeling more guilty all the while.

However, you decide that his small bit of silence was enough of an answer, and just as Dick opened his mouth to say something, you spoke again. “Most of my time in the manor I’ve spent trying to give you chances- to give the others a chance. Trying to give opportunities to just do something, try anything, and… well,” You look away fully this time, caressing the coffee cup in your hand, it’s dying warm doing little to help you, causing you to draw your attention to the shaded greenery of the park instead.

“We both know how that turned out.”

If your words didn’t hurt him before, they definitely did now. Even as Dick fought to keep that smile of his up, it was pointless. You were right, and he knew that. Even if he didn’t know the true extent of your words, he was at least aware of the times where you’d try to get them to see you perform, to hear your songs and listen to your music that had gotten you this far. He knew that much, and yet he still couldn’t help but try. He wants to mean more to you, to do what he hasn’t done up until this point, to truly be your older brother, to be your family - despite how long he’s been unable to do that.

“I… I know, and I’m sorry.” Dick could only say that much, even if it did little in the long run, and a part of himself could tell that his words only made whatever you were feeling worse as you inched away from him, the sight of the small action breaking his heart even more.

“Maybe that doesn’t mean much, but it’s true. I’m just… sorry that things turned out this way. That we- that I never noticed how hard you were trying until now, and even if it is late, I want to be honest and say that I’m sorry.” He adds, finally managing to look away as well as he looked down at the cup in his hands, thoughts swarming and eating away at his heart. Even if they were going too fast for him to process them all, they hurt him all the same and caused his worry to grow. “I’m sorry for everything, for never noticing what was going on or the extent of it, or appreciating the effort you tried to put in for our attention, for just not… being around. You deserve better- and I want to give that. I want to give you want you deserve and finally be-”

“Stop.” You said under your breath, voice wavering as you take in a shaky breath. Yet, even as it falls upon deaf ears, and Dick couldn’t make out exactly what you said, he still pauses for a moment before speaking again.

“... I just want to fix things, Y/n.” Dick says instead, but it doesn’t make you feel any better, nothing does.

“You mean a lot to me.” You just want him to stop.

“And maybe that’s… weird to hear with everything that’s happened. But it is true, and I’m sorry I never made that clear before.” You want him to stop lying to you, to stop trying to make you feel better. You’ve been doing fine on your own without him, without them, and so the only thing you wanted now was for Dick to stop and leave. To act like he had before, and go back to ignoring you.

“So… let’s change that, okay? I… I want to spend more time with you.” You want him to shut up. You want it so bad that it hurts to hear him talk as he goes on and on. His voice ringing in your ears to a point you’re convinced that they’ll bleed if this continues on for any longer. If he continues to talk for any longer.

“I’m being honest, I really want to try and be your-”

“Stop… please, just- just stop.” You manage to say, voice small and wavering as you try to take in another breath. You want to be unbothered, unhurt, painless, and numb, but you can’t and you don’t know why. You thought you had gotten used to this, and you had, but to hear that - to hear the words you’ve wanted to hear for so many years - that hurt more than anything else. The pain was indescribable, and its result only made that fire grow, the flames scratching at your chest even harder, and your heart bleeding as a result.

Suddenly, all the progress you’ve made over all the months you’ve been away feel useless now. Reduced to nothing in Dick’s presence as his words stripped down your walls in the most violent, volatile ways possible.

Once upon a time, you fought to have a single conversation with him that lasted more than just a few short exchanges, and now you’d do anything to have that back. For him to go back to the Dick you grew up with, the one you fought to even have to look at you for more than a few seconds.

“You can’t do this to me.” You said without thinking, voice weak and shaky as you scramble to keep yourself together, to hold back tears that you refuse to spill – refusing to shed any more over them. Refusing to let all of your progress go to waste just like that.

You were happy, you have been happy these past few months, and you refuse for that to be taken away from you.

“What? Y/n, what do you mean-” Dick tries to speak, but you don’t give him the luxury, not after this. Not after what he’s been doing to you.

“You can’t do this to me,” You repeat, trying to breathe and fight past the smoke building in your lungs, nearly gasping for air as your teeth begin to grind, “you can’t- you just can’t. So stop… please just..” You try to take in another breath, no matter how small it is or strangled it feels.

“Just. Stop.”

“...” It’s like no matter what Dick tries to do, things end up becoming worse, and he hates that he doesn’t know why. He can't understand why.

Clearly he’s hurting you, he could see that no matter how much he doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t know what he’s saying that’s hurting you. He doesn’t know what he’s doing that’s causing you to become so upset.

After all, don’t you want this? Don’t you want him to try? For your efforts to be reciprocated? Don’t you want to be family too? For him to try and be what he’s supposed to have been all of this time? Don’t you want him to try and be your big brother?

You couldn’t have given up yet, right? There was no way you could have. You couldn’t have given up after all you have done, after all the awards and such he saw that you’ve earned over the years – awards that were still in your room. You couldn’t have given up. That's impossible, there’s no way. No one would throw all of that away, right? No one would do all that you have, only to just put it all behind them - not anyone that Dick could think of at the moment.

… He hated how he thought of it anyway. How the thought creeped into his mind, and remained there. Letting his dread and worry grow as reality began to sneak its way into his brain.

Dick doesn’t want to think about it – let along consider the idea, but this isn’t about him. This isn’t about what he thinks or feels.

This is about you, and despite his words, he hates that he had forgotten that already.

“Y/n,” He calls out to you softly, really trying this time, and you hate that detail with all of your heart, “can you just please tell me what’s wrong?” Dick’s words make you physically pause, even causing your rushing thoughts to come to a halt. They repeat in your head once more, and you can only think one thing.

Is he seriously asking you that?

“I know that you’re upset, but I want to work through this with you. So, just tell me so I can help, okay-?”

“Stop- God, just please stop, Dick.” You manage to say, already getting slightly choked up before you manage to shakily exhale, trying your hardest to keep it together as your heart squeezes and your chest tightens. You can’t bring yourself to look at Dick, but your teeth grind as you scramble to keep the flames eating up your body from the inside, trapped and hidden away.

“You can’t do this to me,” You say more desperately than you wanted to, a few tears developing that you fight back violently to keep them from spilling, your own teeth getting crushed and feel as if they were beginning to chip and break with how hard they’re grinding against each other. “You can’t- you can’t-” You struggle to get the words out, nearly gasping for air as that sickening, thick smoke threatens to escape your lungs.

“You can’t do this to me, you can’t give me hope.” You finally say, voice straining as your breath trembles. When you finally do look at Dick, neither of your expressions are good ones. Both filled with mixes of emotions, but his was more deep and almost controlled, while yours was frantic and ever changing.

“... What?”

“After all of this time, after everything- everything I’ve been put through. Everything I’ve been trying to move on from-” You struggle to breathe momentarily, but manage to get yet another gasp of air before continuing, “you can’t just try and give me hope like that. You can’t. You just- can’t.”

Now it’s Dick’s turn to pause as he processes what you said, each word making the weight in his chest sink deeper and deeper until it reaches his stomach. The very thing he seems to dread is becoming more real with every minute that passes and he hates that more than anything. He wants to ignore it, to push past it, but how can he do that when it’s right in front of him? How can he do that when something worse could be laying underneath everything?

He doesn’t want to think about it, and so he doesn’t and tries to tuck it away as he goes on to say, “But… why? Why can’t I give that to you? Why can’t I try to help you?”

“Dick, please, for the love of god just-” You want to say it, you really do, but manage to hold yourself back with the little self control you have, and simply just take in the biggest breath you can manage, and sigh just as deeply. “Nevermind, and just- you know what? We’re… we’re done here.” You say instead. Placing your coffee cup on the bench, not even caring that you barely finished the drink, and move to stand up.

“What? Wait- what?” Dick asks, sitting up and tensing when you stand, but not making a move just yet, even if it was clear that he’d do something. What, you don’t know, but you didn’t notice anyway as you were too focused on yourself and getting out of this situation.

“We’re done here, what else do I have to say?” You don’t look back at Dick, instead continue to try and steady your breath. Trying to calm yourself down, and finally do something to quell the burning flames inside your chest, “This isn’t going anywhere, and we aren’t discussing anything important, so… let’s call it here. I’m leaving.” You say outright, being blunt this time as you make a move to step away-

Only to be stopped when Dick suddenly grabs your wrist, his grasp a touch too tight.

“Hold on- who said you get to decide that?” Dick asks, having sprung up to grab you as swiftly and quickly as he did, a flash of panic showing on his face before he pushed it aside and swallowed his nerves. He tries to manage another smile, even if it doesn’t reach his eyes yet again, “Let’s just talk about this, okay? There’s no need to overreact.”

“Overreact…?” You glance back at him, physically feeling as all of your previous progress to calm yourself was quickly diminishing, the fire only roaring to life at Dick’s words, and it’s like he could feel it too with how his smile faltered the smallest bit before he tried to pick it up again.

“Okay- maybe not overreact, but we can still talk about this… can’t we?” He says instead, as if realizing his mistake once you point it out. Scrambling for something, anything.

You don’t say anything right away, your chest only hurting even more, “And talk about what, exactly?” You ask, just barely being able to hear the clouds overhead groan in displeasure, “What is there to talk about? We have nothing to discuss, and so we should just end things here.”

An airy laugh escapes Dick, almost as he can’t believe what you’re saying, and yet he continues to stare at you. All he does is raise a brow, his heart pounding as that weight in his stomach drops further, “About… everything?” He says, as if a little unsure of how to word it, but keeps going anyway, “About the family, about us, about you- everything! What isn’t there to talk about?” He counters, furrowing his brows a little.

He knows you want to leave, but he can’t bring himself to let you go. Not when he doesn’t know when he’ll have this chance again. Not when he’s so close – but to what, he doesn’t know anymore. All he knows is that it deals with you, and that’s enough for him.

“... But there isn’t anything important to talk about.” You point out as if it was obvious, raising a brow of your own as you look back at Dick, ignoring how the longer Dick held onto your wrist, the heavier your dread became. Nearly making it impossible to breathe despite how you were trying to act now, “Again, I even bothered to do any of this because I thought something was going on or that you needed something from me, and I turned out to be wrong, so there’s no other reason for me to be here.” You try to be logical, or seem that way, anyway. You try to give whatever bullshit reason you can, saying anything that you hope would just get Dick away from you and just let you go.

“...” Dick hated your words with a burning passion he didn’t even know he was capable of feeling, and the breathy laugh of disbelief that escaped him only furthered his own change of heart, “So I’m not important to you? Our family isn’t important to you? Because of everything that’s happened? So our effort to change everything isn’t important to you? It matters that little to you now that you’ve lived on your own for… what, a few months?”

“What are you talking about? You’re asking me that as if you know me, and- news flash, you don’t. So get a hold of yourself- and let me go already!” You yank your wrist away from Dick’s grasp, pulling it back towards you harshly.

The moment your wrist leaves his grasp, his hand twitches, but he manages to hold himself back and just let his hand fold into a fist as it falls back to his side. His eyes pinned on you once again, never leaving you, “Why can’t I get to know you now? Why can’t that change, Y/n?” He asks, his own tone changing without him noticing, making it sharper than he meant it to be, “Why can’t you just let me in?”

The visceral hatred those words spawn in you is hotter than words can describe, and felt as if it was burning right through your chest, melting your muscles and organs down to nothing. You not only struggled to breathe, but it hurt to even take in the smallest breath. “‘Why’…? You’re asking me, ‘why’?” A small, airy, pathetic laugh escapes you, a look of disbelief clear on your face.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because of the years that have passed? That every attempt I’ve made to do what you’re asking me right now- was ignored until I didn’t try anymore? Until I go off and try to actually live my life, that you ask for me to let you in? For things to change?” You almost spat out, barely managing to take in a steady breath, “I don’t know, Dick. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Dick could barely pull himself together. Everything was falling apart, and even if he could see that, he could barely get a grasp on his own emotions that he was failing to calm down. He wants you to understand, and he wants to understand you too, but god was everything making it so hard. He just couldn’t understand why you were being so stubborn about this, and why you wouldn’t just hear him out.

So, in the midst of his own frustration, he tsked and spoke without thinking.

“I haven’t done anything to you! Why are you acting like this?” The moment those words left Dick, his eyes widened and he scrambled to recover, “Wait, I didn’t mean-”

“Isn’t that the point?” You cut Dick off, the smoke finally escaping your lungs as you furrowed your brows, chest tightening as more unwanted tears began to build, “That you did nothing? That you- and everyone else didn’t do a goddamn thing?”

“You try to act like I owe you something. Like I owe you this. Like I owe you my time, but you know what? You really don’t, because back then? I clearly didn’t deserve yours. I wasn’t worth your time, and now, years later, you think that I owe you mine? That you can just say whatever the hell you want to my face, because I dared to try and be respectful and civil and do all of this shit for you?” There was no holding back anymore, not when Dick dared to say something like that to your face when you’ve been trying so hard to act calm and civil around him. To give him a chance to say his piece and leave.

The one time you tried to do something for them, for him, after months of being away from all of them, and he dared to say something like that to you?

“Then think again. Because unlike before, I have some god damn self respect and won’t stand for your bullshit anymore.” You spat out as the sky above growled even louder, “You don’t get to say that to me, Grayson.”

Yet, despite your words, a single measly tear manages to slip past your defenses and slowly, painstakingly roll down your cheek. The clouds above seem to have taken that as some sort of sign, as a few small drops of water fell from the sky and hit the pavement under your feet.

Dick pauses after that, if only for a moment as he looks over your expression before sighing. “Okay- fine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that… but,” he took a short breath before saying, “that still doesn’t answer my question, Y/n.”

“...” All you could do was stare at him. Another pathetic, airy laugh escaping you all the while. He really was unbelievable.

“Which one? The one where you asked why things can’t change? Why I won’t ‘let you in’? Or why I’m ‘acting like this’?” Dick clenches his hands into fists, squeezing them before he lets go.

“Why can’t things change, why can’t the relationship between us change?” You hate the tone he used and how the look he gave you expressed and showed more than words could describe. A certain desperation in his eyes that you wish didn’t exist, that you didn’t notice.

“You never showed me that it could change. That it would always stay the same as it has for the past few years-”

“But why does back then matter? Why can’t we focus on now? On this?” He gestured between the two of you, “Can’t we just- I don’t know… move on from that?” You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh, or actually allow yourself to cry, especially when a few more raindrops fell from the sky. He couldn’t be serious, could he? Did Dick actually just say that, and to you of all people?

“Move on?” You say, a few more tears spilling despite your efforts to stop them, their touch burning your skin and sinking into it like acid, “You want me to move on from that? Move on from the years of my life that you weren’t a part of? To just forget all that’s happened?”

“You don’t have to forget… maybe just, push it aside so that we can work on this! On us…” Dick says, dragging on a little before he takes in another quick breath, “Is that so bad? Don’t you want to be family-?”

“You don’t get to say that to me.” You immediately cut him off the moment Dick even tries to mention family again, “You don’t get to say what I want or what I have to do- after everything I’ve done for you! For the others-! You don’t get to say that to me anymore!”

“Y/n, please, just calm down-”

“No! You don’t get to do this to me! To say all of this shit to my face-” You struggle to speak, your words catching in your throat and nearly choking you, but you manage to continue. To continue to say your part, and finally say the words your heart has been longing to say, to give yourself this much, to finally feel this out, “Do you even know how much I’ve done for you- all of you? How much time I spent doing all of these things I thought you guys liked just so that I had a chance to hold a conversation with any of you? To just mean something? To actually be part of the family, only for no one to show up-?”

“No one asked you to do those things! No one asked you to do anything!” Dick snaps, but immediately tries to reel it back, “I understand that things didn’t work out before, but I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Your brows furrow even more, and your teeth grind so hard that it feels like they’re chipping away, “No one had to ask! Hell- none of you ended up caring anyway! It was a waste!” You shout, voice raising the more you talked, tears mixing with the drizzling rain, “It was for you- I did everything I could think of to just talk to you, and now you want me to do more for you? After everything I’ve already done? After all the effort that was put to waste because of you?” At this rate, you knew you weren’t talking to just Dick anymore. Instead, he acted as an extension, in your mind. An extension to something bigger, something greater than himself. Something more than he was.

Dick falters, but just sighs again, “No one told you to do all of that,Y/n]. You didn’t have to do anything but just try to-”

“Try to what, Grayson? Try to what?” You cut him off, eyes swirling with untold emotion as your gaze pierces into him, “Go on, tell me what else I had to do. What I should’ve done.”

“...” Dick looks at you for a moment before speaking again with a small huff, “You could’ve tried a different approach, or maybe, talked to us?”

“...” You don’t know what you want to do more; try to strangle Dick, cry harder, or leave again after trying to kill him. “You did not just say that.” You manage to laugh out, but it’s broken and far from genuine. The humor in it long gone, and all that was left was a sickening, uncomfortable emptiness where it once remained.

“Well, I’m just saying-”

“You did not just say that shit to me when you’ve been the one shooting down every conversation I’ve tried to have with you. You- the person who’s supposed to be the ‘family man’, and we’ve barely even talked. And let me tell you now, I’m not the one who hasn’t been trying to talk or avoiding it.” A pained smile crept up your face as you laughed breathlessly in between your words once more. Not even caring anymore as you let the fire burst from your chest, and have its ashes and smoke spill out of you.

Dick narrows his eyes and furrows his brows a bit, “‘Avoiding it’? What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been avoiding you-”

“Then please explain where the hell you’ve been all of my life until now? Why you could never follow through with what you’d always tell me? Why you come to me now, when I gave you years to do or say anything?”

“I… I was busy, okay? You know that,” He tried to lighten his tone with a chuckle but it did little to help, and only showed his own strain, “I don’t always have time to come to Gotham-”

“But you make the time to do it anyway. You make time to visit, especially when it comes to Damian.” When Dick falls silent again for a moment, you take in a shaky breath and sniffle slightly, feeling awful in every sense of the word, “I guess I just wasn’t worth it, right? I wasn’t worthy of your oh so precious time, but everyone else was. Something else was.” Your expression darkens slightly as your strained smile drops completely.

“There’s always something else, right? Something else to do, someone else to see. You could make time, alright, but just couldn’t for me.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Y/n.”

“Then please, enlighten me, what are you saying, Grayson?” Dick hates every time you say that, every time you refer to him by his last name. It feels like there's a deeper meaning to it that he refuses to see, and just hearing you call him that instead of anything else only forces him to remember that. To remind him of his own faults, both past and present.

Maybe he'd wonder how he keeps messing things up or why he keeps saying everything besides what he actually wants to say, but he's too deep in his own feelings to even think about that. Even if the answer laid within the action itself.

“Saving the city- having to look after Bludhaven and Gotham sometimes, and even the world on occasion- doesn't really give anyone a lot of time to do certain things. You know I'm not over all the time, and that I'm not always… y'know.”

“Dick Grayson?”

“Yeah! And just…” he took a breath before sighing once again, “All I'm saying is that a different approach could've been taken.” You hate how every word he said only seemed to validate concerns you had in the past. Thoughts that still liked to linger every now and then when you caught yourself still thinking about what could've been, and if certain things happened, would that really change anything?

It's funny that only now were you truly beginning to think otherwise.

“So… what?” You say in a dry voice, “Are you saying that I should’ve been just like you? Just like the others- and give up my dream, what I wanted to do- give up my passion, because at least then I would be able to talk to you? Because I would have a higher chance of even seeing you?”

“That's not what I mean, Y/n, and you know that-”

“No. No I don't. I don't know that, and honestly? I have no idea what the hell you’re even trying to tell me right now besides that I should’ve tried harder. That I didn't do enough, because clearly- spending all of my time trying to do things for you, to accommodate for the whole fucking family that couldn't even stand for me to be in their presence for even a few seconds-” You took a shaky breath, more tears spilling out and escaping you, more falling than you would've liked, “that's not enough. Wasting my life away and trying to do everything I could to the point where it put my health at risk- that wasn't enough. I should’ve just dropped everything and followed everyone else instead of trying to find an alternative, because there was no alternative, right? Is that what you're trying to say?”

For once, Dick was speechless and had nothing to say, and his silence only made you hurt more. It's like you were waiting for what felt like the inevitable.

“What else am I supposed to do, huh? What else haven't I done? Is nothing else good enough for you? Is that really the only way I could've been with you? To see you, to actually talk with you and all the others? To be part of the family? Is that what it would've taken?” You're nearly gasping for air at this rate, with every word you say only carving deeper into your heart, and getting harder to say as you struggle to voice them aloud. Nearly choking on both your words and tears, and yet you push on.

“Did I really have to give up on my passion- my dreams to have a better chance to be something to you?”

“Y/n, that's not what I mean. Doing it wouldn't have gotten in the way-”

“You know that's bullshit! You act like the line of work you do doesn't take over your life! Like you don't think about it everyday- like you aren't constantly in danger!” At this point you're shouting and you barely even realize it, tears flowing freely now as they burn into your cheeks and crash down on the pavement below, “Is it so bad that I don't want that? That I don't want to put my life at risk? That I don't want to live your life?!”

“Maybe you enjoy that. Maybe you like that chaos and constantly putting your life on the line- but some people don't! Maybe you're made for that kind of life, but I'm not! I want to live my own life without having to be even more worried about my own well-being and safety!”

“Y/n, please- calm down! I don't want to fight, I-” Dick took a quick breath, his own heart squeezing as he tries to remain stable, to remain calm. Even if it felt like he was watching his whole world crumble before him, each tear you shed stabbing into him, and every word that spilled out just twisted the knives as they dug deeper into his chest and body. “I understand what you mean, but you have to realize-”

“Realize what? That everything I did was for nothing?” Thinking it was one thing, but saying it out loud was another. The words weighed heavy on your tongue, and the more you tried to say them the more choked up you became. “That all of my effort was in vain, and I should’ve given up while I was ahead? Because that's the impression I'm getting right now-”

“That's not what I meant, Y/n. I… I didn't mean it like that.”

“But how else could you have possibly meant it? How else am I supposed to interpret that?” You laughed again, but it was just as sad and pathetic as the last, “You can't expect me to just know these things, Grayson, especially considering everything and just-” You felt like you were going to tear your hair out, like you were going to collapse and truly break. Yet you managed to stand, and speak again no matter how weak your voice is.

“You were never there for me, none of you were.” Your hands are shaking and your face burns, voice cracking in every way possible, and you hate this feeling. Yet above all else, you hate how he made you feel like this, “I could show up at the manor, bloodied and bruised, and no one- no one would notice or bat an eye. I could be wearing a cast and have crutches, and yet not a single person besides Alfred would see it or comment on it. I could be at the hospital and no one would show up, not one of you-”

“Wait… what-?” Dick tried to speak, but you wouldn’t let him, you couldn’t.

“You were never there when I needed you. You never checked up on me, you barely even noticed me-” again, you suck in another breath, barely able to take it in, “do you know what I’ve had to deal with on my own? How much it cost me? How much it hurt me-?”

“Wait, wait- hold on! You’ve been hurt?” Dick managed to cut you off, “I… I never heard about this.”

“Of course you haven't!” You couldn't help but laugh, more tears spilling and leaving scars on your face with how badly they burned into your skin, “You hardly even noticed, how can you expect to hear about it?”

“You didn't tell me- you didn't tell anyone! How- how am I supposed to know about these things when you won't even tell anyone? When you won't tell me?” Dick can feel himself begin to tear up, but he keeps it all down. He was frustrated, and even if it wasn't directed towards you, he couldn't keep his big mouth shut. Even if by the looks of things - you couldn't either, even if that was for a different reason.

Maybe you both were one in the same, but different in some ways. Dick would feel stupid if he noticed it, but of course he couldn't — not at the moment. Not with how things are going.

If only he noticed that sooner. If only he had done a lot of things sooner – then both of you wouldn't be in this position. You wouldn't be in this position.

Yet, he couldn't help himself. Both of you couldn't, in a way.

“I can't read your mind, Y/n! I'm not even at the manor half the time- how am I supposed to notice? You can't just expect me to suddenly know-”

“But you visit enough for the others? For any one of them you'd come rushing over, especially if it was for Damian-”

“At least he tells me when he gets hurt!”

“Are we talking about the same kid right now? God, and here I thought that he was your favorite.”

“‘Favorite’?” Dick chuckled out humorlessly, feeling something in him break at your words. “I don't have any favorites-”

“That is such bullshit, Grayson, and you fucking know that.” You couldn't help but sneer, everything you tried to keep inside finally rearing its ugly head as the lid you tried to put on your emotions flew off, leaving you feeling nothing but unapologetic rage. “You play favorites all the time, but I wouldn't know that, would I? I'm probably your least-”

“Don't say that. You're not. You never were.”

“Right! Yeah, you're right. After all, I'm not even on the list, am I? How can I be the least when you barely even acknowledge me-?”

“I didn't-” Dick just cuts himself off, sighing before he continues, not being able to stop the scoff that slips past, “I didn't mean it like that. You're important to me, Y/n, how many times do I have to say that? It's like you're trying to put words in my mouth at this rate.”

“Well, excuse me for not believing you considering that, oh, I don't know, I've been ignored by you for years? That-”

“‘Ignored’? I haven’t been ignoring you, no one has-”

“Really? Are you really trying to say that now-?”

“I understand that you're frustrated, okay? That you have all the reason to be mad- but no one has ignored you. I haven't ignored you-”

“BULLSHIT! That is bull-SHIT!” You scream before you even notice the words had left your mouth in the first place, “You would have said that before it that was the case! And even then- how the hell do you explain this entire shit show? How do you even dare to try and explain where the fuck ANY of you have been?! Because people can only be so ignorant and stupid until others begin to think it's intentional and you're doing it on god-damn purpose-!” Broken, harsh chuckles escape you - slipping in between your piercing words, ones so rough and dry that it scratches your throat just to let them out. The disbelief was heavy in each and every one of them, utterly devoid of any humor, and yet they were so unbelievably empty simultaneously.

You could feel your heart breaking even more, but you weren't the only one. Not that it mattered, as with each piece that was chipped off, you could only register the little sounds of you coming apart. Everything else was muffled, and almost completely blocked out. With your only focus being on him, on them.

“Just because something looks a certain way, doesn't mean that it's really like that. I told you, it isn't that easy. Like I said before- I haven't been avoiding you, let alone ignoring you! I wasn't trying to do anything like that-”

“It doesn't matter what you tried! What you're trying to do! Don't you see? What matters is what it felt like to me-”

“But you won’t let me change that! You won't let me try and change things- it’s like you want it to remain the same-!”

“YOU DON'T GET TO SAY WHAT I WANT! NOT AFTER THIS- NOT AFTER EVERYTHING! You don’t get to say shit like that- you don't know me! You don't know what I've been through-! So stop talking like you understand me!”

“But you won't let me in! You won't give me the chance to understand! How can I expect to know anything when you're giving me nothing to work with?!”

“How about you take a fucking hint, Grayson. Can't you read the room?! You're a cop for crying out loud! And was trained by the best detective the world has to offer- so it's not my fault you're acting like you're stupid!”

“You're not another case, Y/n! You're family, you’re my sibling! Not something that needs to be solved! Is it really so hard to just tell me anything and not push me away when I'm right here?!”

Your words catch in your throat momentarily, but you try to push past that and force something out, not caring if it was made of broken glass or venom. Yet, just as you go to speak, and the first letter escapes your lips – Dick finally breaks too.

“SHUT UP! Just Shut. Up. And ACTUALLY listen to me for one second! Please! For the love of-” Dick can't help but scoff, running a hand down his face, and covering his mouth with it. Looking away as he does so, brows furrowing.

He wants to say something, think of anything that he wants you to hear and understand clearly - but nothing comes to mind. Nothing you'd truly hear him out on, anyway. Nothing he's already mentioned to you. Nothing that would make this better. Even as he goes to try and say something, all that comes out is a mess of half finished words that he can't make comprehensible, especially not in a way that'll have you listen to him where you won't try to bite at him again.

So, he falls silent. You both do.

Your eyes widening at the sudden shout, before your gaze hardens and you glare at Dick through your tears and agony. His silence makes you angrier, but his loud response does shut you up momentarily.

“Well– fine, if you want me to be quiet so badly, then I'm leaving.” You manage to say after a moment, voice wavering and becoming weaker — now spent thanks to how you've been using it up until this point.

Still, your words immediately snap Dick out of whatever trance he was in, and cause his head to snap back in your direction, with his eyes locking onto you once again – though they widen a little before he tries to calm down, and take in one last breath. He scrambles to say anything, especially as he sees you turn to leave, and see your words through.

“W-wait, hold on, I-” he presses his lips into a thin line, thinking briefly before continuing, “Can I at least walk you home? It isn't safe-”

You pause in your movements, “No. Just-” you don't look back, you can't bring yourself to, but you do just barely glance over your shoulder – though not enough to actually see him again. Dick can't see your eyes anymore, but he can still see the tears streaming down your face. “Just leave me alone. All of you.”

Dick tries to reach out, to stop you one last time – but he hesitates, and just lets his hand fall back to his side. Instead, opting to watch you leave while he stands there, left hurt and alone. His eyes eventually find and land on the coffee you had left behind on the bench, and he finds himself staring at that once you're out of sight.

He has to hold back from running after you, and following - if only to just make sure that you'd reach your apartment in one piece - but he manages. It's the least he could do, after all, and besides, he doubts he'd be able to do that without making you hate him even more. He's gathered as much from all of this, and really - from the looks of things, he had a lot more to consider than he had originally thought. All of them did.

… It's only as you walk away and the distance between you and Dick grows bigger, with both of your words beginning to settle - that you both notice the clouds once light cries have turned into ugly sobs, with each tear being shed heavier than the last, thunder roaring and echoing in the distance, lightning striking the earth with a deafening clap. It was only then that both of you even noticed that the light drizzle from before had turned into pouring rain, and that there was more than just the two of you in the world. Something that felt heavier than it should’ve, but felt appropriate at the same time.

Regardless, you continue to walk away, and once again, never look back as you commit to your decision no matter what may happen afterwards, or the consequences that may follow. Just like that one day back in the manor, you move on and go on with your choice, just knowing what you want in that moment and seeing no reason to deny yourself — especially when you want the same thing you wanted that night, when you just want to get away. You don’t know what happened tonight, but all you knew is that you didn’t want to be a part of it anymore, so you just left, and maybe you would’ve felt a little grateful that Dick let you go if you had noticed to begin with – since your mind was more focused on just putting as much distance between you and him as possible.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket, and it’s only then that you remember that you still had it on you – not that you knew why you’d leave it anywhere or forget it, but it’s something you noticed nonetheless. You fish it out of your pocket as you walk, and wipe some of your tears away with the back of your hand, sniffling lightly as you check the notification. Jessica had left you a voicemail – several, actually. You couldn’t imagine why, but you didn’t try very hard to think of a reason, and instead just opened your phone to listen to it.

[“Hey, hun’, it’s been a while, you okay? If you don’t call in the next twelve hours or so then I’m calling the police- even if most of them are useless as hell, I know more of them will look, since they know who you are and all that. But I swear if that asshole did anything to you then he’s got another thing coming, and I know you don’t like to fight, but please, for the love of god, just sucker punch that creep in the face if you have to. He looks like he could use one, and an extra hard one at that.” She takes a moment to sigh, clearly frustrated - which her tone made very clear - but you could sense a little worry, “But, seriously. Just get back to me when you can, and you better be safe, alright? Listen to my other voice message if you haven’t already, talk to you soon, bye.”]

Just hearing Jessica’s voice made you feel a bit better, and some of what she said got a little laugh out of you. She always tried to look after you, and with what just happened – you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

So, you did as told, and listened to the other voice message she had left you, curious as to what she had wanted you to know about.

[“Hey, it’s Jess, darlin’. I hope you’re not still with that guy, but if you are then just remember what I told you, okay? Well, anyway, Cece came by, and is waiting for you in the diner, and barely awake at that. So just come by and pick them up, since- well, I’d send ‘em home on their own but honestly I doubt they’d be able to make it there themselves. I’m a little surprised they were even able to reach this place- but you get the jist. Come by, but if you’re still with that guy? I can wait, just hurry up because a girl’s gotta get her beauty sleep. See you, bye.”]

… Oh, well, guess you had to make a stop on your way home, then. You wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and just sleep, but it’s not like the walk to the diner was long anyway, and besides, it was on the way back to your apartment, so you couldn’t really complain.

With that, you made a turn and headed towards the diner. Still processing and taking in everything as you do so — but when you feel more tears begin to well up, you push it to the side, and tell yourself that you’ll handle it later. No matter how short or long that interaction was, it drained you, and you desperately needed rest. Maybe it wasn’t the most healthy decision to make, but you couldn’t handle doing anything else right now, so it’d have to wait. Besides, with how tonight went, you definitely didn’t want to think about Dick and the others at the moment – they didn’t deserve it, anyway.

Thankfully, you reached the diner in no time, and it’s only when Jessica stops you at the door do you even realize that your soaked… which makes sense but you feel a little embarrassed when she points it out nonetheless, and says how she loves you but doesn’t want to have to clean the floor again when her shift has been over for about a half hour. Cece was sitting at the counter, and perks up when you enter, giving a sleepy smile before standing up and making their way over to you. Both of you thank Jessica as you take your leave – but not before you wish her a good night and say your usual goodbyes, even if she does make a point about how you and her will talk later. Hell, she even sneaks in how you almost looked like her after her breakup with Michael which… ouch, you can only imagine how awful you really look if that was the case – but it also only fully confirmed that you were talking to her about what happened no matter what.

Still, you were grateful that she left it at that, and didn’t pry anymore as she finally let you and Cece go home. The walk to the apartment – or, rather, the short run there – since you and Cece ended up sharing their jacket as cover from the rain, and they had a funny idea as you both held it over your heads, and… well, one thing led to another – and it's safe to say it turned out to be rather eventful. Ending with you and Cece laughing in front of your apartment building once you reached it, huddled in front of the small entrance – Cece ending up being partially soaked despite their best efforts, and of course, you’re beyond drenched.

Once you reach your shared home, Cece, despite barely being awake, basically shoves you into the shower once you're both a little more settled, and you just do as told – more than a little tired yourself in numerous ways, and definitely not in the mood to argue. When you’re clean and in a new set of clothes, you and Cece talk a little. They try to ask why you had been out, but you just say you ran into someone – though it wasn’t anyone important, and that it wasn’t something to worry about — with them just accepting that answer, much to your relief.

The rest of the evening becomes a bit of a blur after that, with you and Cece just talking some more here and there, sharing a few laughs that really helped brighten your mood and made you forget all about what had happened. The pain becomes dull, and that bright fire in your chest finally dies out - leaving behind a warmth that wasn’t burning or suffocating, but instead comforting and painless. One you welcomed graciously and with open arms as you felt yourself relax more and more.

Eventually, Cece turned in for the night, and as they headed back into their room, you did one last check of the apartment — making sure all the windows were not only locked, but that the curtains were closed. Going as far as to check the front door a few times just to make sure that it was really locked. Even if none of what you did would really stop any of them from getting in - it put your mind at ease a little, and really, that’s all you could hope for.

With that, you finally settled into bed, and fell asleep faster than you had in years.

For once, you hoped you’d never wake up as your worries and fears felt so far away, and reality was out of reach – even if it laid just beyond your closed eyelids. As much as you hoped for a better morning, more than anything, you hoped that you’d just sleep the week away if you could help it. God knows you needed the rest, or at least it felt like you did.

—----------

Dick had no such luxury.

The night became a blur after you had left, and he barely remembers even meeting up with the rest of the family once everything was said and done. He couldn’t tell how long he had been standing in that park all by himself, thinking of everything you had told him and looking at the little pieces of your existence that still remained behind.

All he knows is one thing led to another, and now he’s here – sitting on top of a roof with everyone else both simultaneously chastising him and trying to discuss what they should do now. Though Dick couldn’t bring himself to pay attention, since the events that had unfolded moments prior replayed in his mind like a broken record, torturing him slowly as his brain reminded him of all of the mistakes he’s made tonight. He can’t understand why he said half of what he did, especially because he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean to blow up like he did – especially in front of you, and when you were clearly hurting and frustrated on top of that. The only thing Dick wanted to do in that moment was stop both of you from arguing, and it seems that his mouth ran off to do just that before he could think of a better way to do it. Now leaving him like this, and things worse off than they were before.

Point is, Dick felt like shit, and he knew he deserved it. Though the rest of the family definitely weren’t helping him out in that regard.

“How the hell did you even fuck this up, Dick?” Jason asks, his tone so heated it sounds like it could’ve come from the depths of hell itself – and all just to burn his older brother.

“I knew I should’ve gone instead, this would’ve never happened-” Tim can’t help but mumble to himself, arms crossed as he sighs, frustrated – but not completely at Dick. If there was a moment for him to really believe he should’ve kept your address and apartment number to himself, it was definitely now.

“Wait- so… what do we do now?” Stephanie asks, concerned over what happened, and that Dick hasn’t really said anything about it to them – even if all of them can tell it went poorly.

Damian just sighs, his arms crossed as well as he looks at Dick before looking to the others, “Take matters into our own hands, obviously.”

“While I agree that something should be done, is it really a good idea to act now?” Barbara pitches in, not entirely sure of what Damian was talking about, but not liking the implications of it all the same. Something about it just didn’t feel right to her, nor did the look he gave her.

“Of course. Now that they’re presumably heading to their apartment, we can just-” before Damian can finish what he was going to say, Cassandra covers his mouth, cutting him off swiftly which annoys the little Robin enough to shove her hand away and give her a scrutinizing look, “what?”

Cassandra just shakes her head, and instead begins to sign something, basically saying how they don’t know if you're even at your apartment, and by the time they find out where you actually are, it’ll probably be morning. Even mentioning how since you know that they know where you live, you probably wouldn’t even be there anymore. Which just causes Damian to huff in response. She had a point, and he knew it, but he wasn’t going to admit it out loud.

Still, despite that Jason spoke up again, “Actually, I agree with the little twerp. Now’s a good a time as any to get them home.”

“... You can't be serious, right?” Barbara asks, now getting a little concerned over what Jason meant as well, and the half-shrug he gave did little to reassure her or calm her nerves that were slowly beginning to rise.

“Why not? They’re still out there doing god knows what- who knows where in the dead of night,” he points out, giving Barbara a little glance, “it anything, I just see more of a reason to get them before anything else happens.”

“Jason, do you even hear yourself right now.”

“What? Is it a crime to be worried for my god damn family now?”

“Jason.” Bruce’s voice pierces through the air, cutting through the tension before anyone else can speak up or give their two cents. Almost as if just his voice alone was enough of a barrier between those who wanted to get you home, those that didn’t, and the few who didn’t know where they stood at the moment.

Regardless, it’s enough for Jason to stand down, if only temporarily as Bruce turns to Dick – who’s still out of it, and staring at the ground just before his feet.

“Dick,” Bruce calls out, which only gets him a subtle glance, with Dick not even bothering to pick up his head – or maybe he just couldn’t, no one could tell except for the one person among them who was much too fluent in body language. “What do you think?” He asks simply, narrowing his eyes a little when his eldest son grows quieter somehow.

Dick fidgets with the coffee cup in his hands, its warmth long gone, and yet he still runs a finger or two along the side as if it was still there. He doesn’t know why he grabbed it, but now he almost couldn’t find it in himself to let it go. It was yours, after all, if only for a brief moment – and even if all it did was serve as a reminder of his faults, it reminded him of you, and right now? That’s all he could ask for. Dick can’t explain it, but it’s like by holding the cup and having it with him, he had a small part of you with him. Since, sure, while you had left it during your… ‘dispute’ with him, it had come from a place you liked and he could only assume that it was just how you liked your coffee. It was silly, but holding it made him feel close to you, and that’s all he wanted at the moment. To be close.

… It takes him a beat or two before he responds, and even then he seems unsure of himself – but remembering what had transpired minutes ago is enough to set his mind straight.

“I think… we should give them some time, and… a bit of space too for a while.” Dick manages to say hesitantly, tapping the cup lightly as he still holds onto it.

That seemed to quiet everyone down for a moment, until Stephanie eventually asks the question on everyone’s mind.

“Just how badly did things go, Dick?”

He couldn’t answer that, he didn’t want to, so he remained silent. However, Cassandra could tell, and found herself just as divided as she felt the moment she first saw him. She didn’t know what she wanted to do more – throw Dick off the roof, or go looking for you herself. Maybe she’d try to do both if Bruce wasn’t right there.

“So, what? Do they hate us now or something?” Jason says sarcastically, but with how Dick tenses a little his tone turns harsher, “... You can’t be serious.”

“Dick- please tell me you didn’t screw things up that badly. Please tell me that you didn’t make things worse!” Tim almost begs, desperate to be wrong and hoping that his eldest brother hadn’t made things worse – that there was still a small chance.

Sure, they didn’t expect things to go great, but none of them really believed that they would go so horribly!

“Look, just-” Dick takes a short breath, looking at the cup in his hands in quiet defeat before glancing away, “I think we should give them some time to themself is all.”

Jason can only scoff as he crosses his arms, “I knew I should’ve gone instead, they would’ve been home right now.”

“I believe me and father would’ve handled the situation much better,” Damian states, as if it would lead to the only positive outcome should he and Bruce had gone instead.

“I knew I should’ve kept my mouth shut and just gone over by myself- stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” Tim curses under his breath, looking away as he continues to mumble to himself – expression growing increasingly darker and the air around him shifting into… something indescribable.

Cassandra seemed just about ready to rip something apart, and Stephanie was getting nervous from how the others seemed to be reacting, only able to stutter out a small, “G- guys? Maybe we shouldn’t be talking about this right now-”

“I agree…” Barbara chips in, her own concerns only growing as she looks at the family, but tries to help Stephanie out nonetheless, “What’s done is done, and we should be trying to figure out what to do from here on out.”

Damian scoffs, “Right, like that will be easy with brother being silent about everything.” Dick could only look away in response, taking a small sip of the coffee in his hands, finding a little bit of comfort in its taste. It was cold, and wasn’t how he usually got his done – but it’s how you liked it, and that was enough from him to like it too.

A small argument seemed to spawn from that alone, with some now going back and forth yet again on what to do – Cassandra, Jason, and Damian pretty adamant about wanting to bring you home, with Barbara, Stephanie, and Dick more keen on waiting and giving you space — even if Dick was definitely more quiet about his stance, still thinking about… whatever was on his mind. Tim didn’t seem to engage much in the arguing either, and instead seemed to be dealing with his own thing as he kept mumbling to himself, leaving Bruce to be stuck listening to all of the nonsense until he finally got fed up with it.

“Quiet down, all of you.” He states firmly, voice cold and harsh as he shuts everyone up without even moving an inch. His eyes seemed to judge all of them as he looked at everything before sighing, and making the decision for everyone.

“We’ll give them time, and stand down for now.” He says, his tone alone indicating that there would be no arguing on this. What he said was final, and everyone would be smart to follow along with it, no matter where they stood. Still, he turned to look down at the city, and caught the faintest glimpse of your apartment building in the not-so-far distance. “but if anything happens, then we’ll act accordingly.”

#yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #gn reader #yandere dc #platonic yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere dc x reader #yandere dick grayson #yandere dick grayson x gn reader #it's finally here in full!#total wc is around 37.5k words #so the 1st part is around 16.5K~ words #and this part is around 20K-21k~ words respectfully #ngl i lost a bit more of my sanity writing this chapter #i was so naive when i called chapter 2 my longest post...#not series

3K notes · View notes

mieczyslawsravenclaw · 11 months ago

Text

Eidetic Memory Be Damned -Spencer Reid

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•Pairing - Spencer Reid x FemFBIAgent!Reader

•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!

•Summary/Prompt - Spencer is tired of only having the memory of you to enjoy during his spicy times , so he just has to intrude into your hotel room after a case is finished…

•Warnings/Content - p in the v unprotected (hey kids- DONT DO IT) ; cursing ; Spence loves to beg to nut in you and does so ; creampie ; some pain play? (just a lil hand on the throat dealio and some hair pulling) ; LOTS of praise on both sides (good boy, pretty girl, etc) ; very mf horny lol ; (basically they do just about everything from first base to last bestie slay)

•Word Count - 3.3k

•Authorʼs Note(s) - Iʼm so mf rusty at writing smut so this is probs not the best, I just wanted to write some Spencer spice cause I had a spicy dream about him lmao RIP >_< Also this'll be my first official post of my writing on Tumblr slayyyyy

•Additional Tags - Switch!Spencer , Switch!Reader , Spencer is a needy brat LMAO , Team has ‘no ideaʼ you two are hooking up (Be so mf fr they do) , Good aftercare is so valid , Spencer loves being cuffed and teased muahaha

As much as this last case had taken out of me, I was more than happy to get to spend some time in my hotel room while the jet refueled and everyone got their bearings. Itʼs not home - far from it, Iʼd been missing my own bed for the majority of our time here in whatever state it was now - but at least it was something.

But of course, the reprieve wouldnʼt last long - a sharp knock on my door confirmed that, about 20 minutes after Iʼd laid down to sleep.

“What…ˮ I groan, frustratedly looking over at the clock.

The knock, again, more persistent this time. And I recognize its pattern now, three short tap-taps. Spencer.

My heartbeat, despite my minor annoyance at being woken up, is hammering now. Spencer seems to do that to me, from the moment Iʼd realized I have feelings for him, carrying into whatever it is that we are now. Secret trysts that Iʼm sure are no secret to our team members, especially Garcia, because sheʼd pried it out of me almost immediately and now waits in her dark little room with nothing else but excitement for the latest updates on us, it seems.

“Are you awake?ˮ A gentle but still much-too-loud voice asks.

I tumble out of bed, rushing to the door. I donʼt even have time to make sure I look okay - Iʼm much too worried about anyone else hearing him. The door is unlocked and pulled open in record time, a stunned lanky man quickly and semi-quietly forced inside.

“Spence, someoneʼs gonna hear you if you keep on like that.ˮ I chastise him, shutting and locking the door behind us. No sooner have I done so, than his lithe form overtakes me, nestling into the crook of my neck with a groan that seems both relieved and not relieved at all.

“Donʼt care,ˮ He pushes me back, until my legs meet the mattress and fold. Quickly following on top of me, he sighs, “Been too long. I miss you. You know I have an eidetic memory, yeah? Doesnʼt mean shit when Iʼm up late and even thoughts of you arenʼt enough to keep me satiated.ˮ

“Someoneʼs gonna-ˮ Hear, I want to say. He knows, of course he does. And Iʼm only half-complaining, with his lips at my neck and his leg sneaking up between mine the way he also knows.

“Donʼt care.ˮ He repeats, the low moan at the back of his throat breaking through into the silent room. “I told you I miss you. Should I tell you about what I use my memory for? And just how much that hasnʼt been enough lately? Or should I show you?ˮ

Itʼs clearly a rhetorical question, but still, he seeks the permission I am more than happy to grant.

“Tell me. Uh, show me. I mean-ˮ

“I can do both,ˮ Even in the dark, I know heʼs got that matter of fact smirk on his lips. He reaches down, holding me by the hip with one hand while the other slips into my pajamas, a practiced motion heʼs all too good at by now. “Usually this is what I remember first. The way your skin feels, how nice it is to make you tremble beneath my touch.ˮ

I buck up, and he chuckles.

“All too eager, arenʼt you? Clearly youʼve been thinking about it too, huh, pretty girl?ˮ A pointed question he knows Iʼll struggle to answer, with his hand and his voice torturing me so.

“No eid- identical- uh, no memory recall whatever for me.ˮ

“Still wouldnʼt satiate, I bet.ˮ He remarks, casually rubbing circles and patterns over my panties. This is how he operates, surely and with no warning. A gentle but firm kiss to my jaw, and he continues, “Itʼs like that for me, at least. I know no amount of recalling how you feel under me will be enough to match just how nice it is.ˮ

Heʼs right, and of course he is; I can barely handle the teasing, the tone his voice has taken in this short amount of time. And I currently dont care if weʼre heard, either.

“Spence-ˮ

“What is it, sweetheart? Too much for you? Not enough?ˮ

“Please?ˮ

“Words, honey. Youʼve gotta use your words. Or you can show me, Iʼm okay withthat too.ˮ He guides my hand down to his.

“More.ˮ I plead, working to undress myself before his hands take over.

“You only have to ask.ˮ

True to his word, Spencer pulls the fabric away, no longer allowing it to be a block between us. Itʼs lost somewhere in the sheets as he kisses me, his practiced hands no longer in the mood to tease. He slips a finger in, and when I let out a keening whine, another, his free hand going automatically to my mouth.

“Now as much as I say I donʼt care, youʼve gotta be a little quiet for me,ˮ He goads, knowing this will only make it harder for me to do so. His breath is hot in my ear, his fingers working a motion thatʼs both breaking pent up weeks old frustration, and yet causing more tension in my belly. “Much as I love your voice. Your sounds. The-ˮ

I rut up against him, my lips opening around his thumb. He works it into my mouth, his voice lowering even further.

“Cmon, show me how much you missed me, huh, princess?ˮ

I moan, words lost in my mind as it spins. Every tug of his fingers between my thighs is building a high Iʼm chasing, and when I get to this point, Iʼm not talking - he is. And he knows it, knows the right words to say to build and break me.

“This is what Iʼm after, this is what I canʼt just remember. Because itʼs all too much to remember how good it feels to destroy you.ˮ

Please, please. I canʼt hold off much longer.

“Now are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?ˮ

I nod, lips opening and letting his hand free from my mouth as my breaths grow heavy. “Canʼt - Please, Spence, please-ˮ

He presses me further into the mattress, murmuring sweet and dirty nothings into my ear as the dam breaks and I ride my high. Iʼm far too sensitive following, and when I try to push him away for a moment, allow myself to collect some sort of reprieve before we continue, he chuckles lowly.

“See, I can recall that clear as day. But itʼs so much sweeter to have it happening in front of me, you know?ˮ He nestles in beside me, turning me to face him.

Nigh immediately, Iʼm reaching for his belt buckle. Of course he wouldnʼt have changed into comfortable clothes, not even this late- Iʼm sure this was his plan all along, and he tried to fight it as long as he could.

“Someoneʼs eager.ˮ He quips, the smirk growing.

“Youʼve got me thinking about it,ˮ I sigh, letting him maneuver himself out of the constricting clothing. “Coming over and getting me all hot and bothered. I really ought to…ˮ

“Ought to what?ˮ He goads, pulling me onto him with a low noise as we brush together. “Hmm? Are you gonna say…you ought to punish me?ˮ

I nod, rubbing back against him. He lets out a moan, hands gripping my hips tighter.

“I remember how that feels,ˮ He pulls me closer, voice dropping. “But for your sake, maybe you should refresh me.ˮ

When he reaches for me again, I pull back, pinning his hands down above his head. I know he could get out of it if he really wanted to - Iʼm strong, but not stronger than him - but he most certainly doesnʼt want to get out of it. And Iʼm enjoying it far too much to stop myself now.

“Whatʼre you gonna do, cuff me?ˮ He snaps, the bratty attitude far too practiced and already making me a soaking mess.

“I might.ˮ I reach for my pair, knowing all too well that heʼll absolutely lose it once I let go on him. I can hardly stand the anticipation. “Scared, Reid?ˮ

“Terrified. Please, donʼt. Iʼve been a good boy, I swear.ˮ

I push him back while he pleads, tightening the metal around his wrists. The look on his face, muffled as it is by the darkness of the room, is more than enough to spur me on.

“Not thinking about this at all, huh?ˮ I shed my top, if only for the knowledge that his inability to reach for my breasts drives him utterly insane. “And Iʼm sure you havenʼt spent many late nights with the memory of me riding you, have you? Havenʼt had your hands on that pretty cock of yours, thinking about how it feels when itʼs me, yeah?ˮ

“N-Not at all.ˮ

“Itʼs a shame, then.ˮ I tease, feeling him harden beneath me with every word. “Iʼll have to make you confess, I suppose.ˮ

His eyes follow my every move as I back up, slotting between his legs and bending down to kiss along his hips.

“Youʼll never get it out of me.ˮ He groans.

“Is that a promise or a challenge?ˮ I ask, not breaking eye contact as I place a kiss on his sensitive head.

“Challenge? Would I…challenge you?ˮ He still holds onto a moment of sanity, until I take him in my mouth, and itʼs lost with a sigh of, “Oh, would I.ˮ

I bob my head, my practiced motions coming in handy now. The usually-full-of- remarks Spencer Reid folds under my touch, soft deep moans and babble of confessions and wish I could pull your hair passing his lips while I work him out.

After a few moments of this, I let him free - at least from the torture of my lips.

“Where are you going? Please, I wanna cum for you, Iʼll tell you everything I did while I couldnʼt stand to wait for you.ˮ He keens.

“Oh, Iʼm far from done with you, Spence.ˮ I slowly, agonizingly slowly, climb back on top of him, making sure to back right up against him as he tightens against the cuffs. “Donʼt you worry, Iʼll have every measly confession pouring from you. You know I will.ˮ

“Please, let me out- Gotta touch you, I just gotta-ˮ

“Shh, be good for me, wonʼt you?ˮ I lift myself over his face, pressing my folds to his lips. “Unless you wanna stay in those forever.ˮ

He shakes his head, vibrating a ‘noʼ against me.

“Good. Now youʼre gonna pay your dues and clean up the mess youʼve made.ˮ

Eagerly, he laps at me like heʼs never had it before. His utter submissiveness overwhelms him, letting me ride his face to my hearts content. Words are muffled and entirely lost in it, and I know by now that the sounds Iʼm making alone will be heard, but I donʼt really care. Iʼm too far gone in how good it feels to finally have him making me cum again.

“Can I touch you now?ˮ

I slide back onto him, teasingly letting myself rest with just the edge of him pressing into my folds.

“Can you?ˮ I look pointedly at his wrists.

“I-oh, my god, clearly not, but-ˮ

“How about this?ˮ I amend. “You give me a confession, you get a reward. Sound fair?ˮ

“Yeah, sounds just fine. I couldnʼt get off without coming here, you realize that, donʼt you? Youʼre the only thing that gets me off anymo-Oh-ˮ His confession is cut short as I slide him a bit further in, just enough to spur him further. “I mean, I get off, donʼt get me wrong here. But nothing feels as good as when itʼs with you. Nothing.ˮ

“Keep going, youʼre doing good.ˮ I praise, sinking a bit deeper.

“Goddamn you feel so good.ˮ He moans. “Like, my hands canʼt even come close to this, are you kidding? I can try all I want, and believe me, I have - Oh, my god, please donʼt stop - Iʼve been trying all the time, I admit that, canʼt hardly stand being around you and not being able to just fuck you whenever I want.ˮ

I push down further, the stretch he gives me loosing my own moan. “How much do you wanna fuck me, Spence? Tell me, please.ˮ

“God, all the time. Itʼs all I can think about when I get down to it - baby, can I please touch you now?ˮ

“Punishment is a bitch, isnʼt it, Reid?ˮ I smirk, starting to push him in and out of me, slowly and with a devious grin that falters at just how damn good it is.

“Baby, Iʼm gonna get outta these and fuck you so good-ˮ

“Try it.ˮ I raise an eyebrow, stopping my motions.

“Oh- No, Iʼm sorry, please donʼt stop. Iʼll be good, I promise.ˮ

“Yeah, you will.ˮ I drop as far as I can take him, savoring the stuttered animalistic groan he lets out as I press down onto him, pulling his hair and moving my hips around him. As he is want to do, heʼs thrusting up into me, even if heʼs unable to reach me with his hands held up as they are. “Eager, sweet boy. Iʼm gonna ruin you.ˮ

And ruin him, I do. The tension and heat in my belly rides and breaks several times, with him unable to form real words except for the continuous begging of please donʼt stop repeated on a loop until I feel Iʼm satisfied with his demeanor.

Once Iʼve tortured him enough, I reach for the cuffs, ready to let him off the leash - knowing that once I do, the balance will shift. Truthfully, Iʼm just eager to let him be true to his word and fuck me like heʼs been dying to.

“You donʼt need any more confessions from me, then?ˮ He huffs, sweat slicked across his brow from the effort of holding back - though heʼs not really done so, has he?

“One last one, I suppose.ˮ I pull off of him, and the pout he gives nearly makes me sit right back down on him again.

“Alright, Iʼll be good and honest with you, then.ˮ He continues while I set to unlocking the cuffs, “You know the other day, just after we got the final piece of evidence put together?ˮ

I nod.

ˮI was so psyched, I couldʼve taken you right there. I donʼt care that everyone would have known, would have seen. Itʼs just something you do to me.ˮ He finishes, his tone light. Oh boy, Iʼm about to get railed. “I love you. And now Iʼm gonna fuck you like Iʼve been wanting to for weeks.ˮ

No sooner is he free, tearing off the shirt he was wearing and looming over me with the hungriest of looks at my body before pressing himself into me. No wait, no teasing - heʼs not got the control for it, clearly, and Iʼm not complaining one bit.

“Next time, you get the cuffs, pretty girl.ˮ He promises, his hands all over my body now that he can manage it. Hard, precise thrusts, his voice heavy and fucked-out.

“And Iʼll show you just what Iʼve been wanting to do that Iʼm gonna savor in my mind after.ˮ

My nails are leaving deep trails in his back, surely leading to marks that would raise questions if anyone else saw. Heʼs so far in me, almost bottomed out, and itʼs almost too much and yet not enough all at once. I pull him closer, and his hand tangles in my hair while the other clasps around my throat.

“Youʼre all mine.ˮ Spencer growls - truly, thereʼs not other word for it, the purely animal drive taking him to a world where itʼs just us, just this. And Iʼm there too, crying out with the ecstasy his body causes my own.

“All yours.ˮ

“Thatʼs right, pretty girl. Say it for me, I wanna hear you say it.ˮ

“Iʼm all yours, Spence- oh, my god-ˮ

“Good, thatʼs good. My pretty girl. Youʼre so tight, you feel so good wrapped around me, donʼt you? God, what a sight.ˮ Here he is, in his rambles now, and I can hardly contain how close I am. “Wanna tell everyone this is mine. Iʼm the only one that gets to have you, gets to fuck you like this. See you break for me. Only me.ˮ

“Only you, Spence, only you-ˮ

“Cʼmon, I know youʼre close, I can feel it. You get so much tighter, god, if itʼs even possible-ˮ

“Spencer-ˮ

“Thatʼs my girl, cum for me.ˮ

“Donʼt stop-ˮ I can feel the cord in me ready to snap, chasing my most intense orgasm of the night with his words and the feeling of him slamming so deep inside me. “More, Spence, you can give me more-ˮ

“Sweet girl, of course, I know you can handle it.ˮ He pushes himself fully in, my breath catching at the slight pain, yet itʼs still so good, I canʼt stop it, I donʼt want to. “Want me to fuck you so good with all of me, donʼt you?ˮ

I nod against his grasp, and he loosens it a bit, kissing me fervently.

“Please, please cum for me, I wanna feel you all over me, beautiful.ˮ He reaches down, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. Itʼs the last thing I need to send me over that edge, and I cry out, his name slipping past my lips unwarranted. “Oh, baby, love how you say my name. Like itʼs a prayer, like Iʼm a god.ˮ

“Donʼt stop, Spence-ˮ

“Iʼm close, baby- Oh, I wanna cum in you-ˮ

Another orgasm follows near immediately after this one, and Iʼm grasping at him while heʼs chasing his own, his hands fumbling and his thrusts getting sloppy. He grips the sheets, his breaths stunted.

“Cum in me, please-ˮ

“Iʼm gonna, god, Iʼm so fuckinʼ close-ˮ He tightens around me, muscles shaking as he lets loose, and now itʼs his turn to moan my name a lot louder than he should while he cums. Heʼs so pretty when he does, too - the crease that works between his brows, the round pucker to his lips. Partly through, he kisses me, hard. And when heʼs done, his grip loosens, falling slack on top of me with a contented sigh.

A few moments pass where he just holds me, peppering soft kisses across my face and telling me you did such a good job, baby. Then, he pops up with a smile and comes back with water and a towel, cleaning up after himself.

“Satisfied?ˮ I chuckle, slowly pulling my clothes back on.

“Almost.ˮ He dips his head down, capturing a nipple in his mouth for a few moments. I groan, overstimulated, but still too happy to appease him. “Now, Iʼm satisfied. Iʼm staying in here, okay? Donʼt care if someone sees at this point.ˮ

“Spence?ˮ

“Mmhm?ˮ

“I love you, too.ˮ

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #sub!spencer reid

1K notes · View notes

adancingalien · 6 months ago

Text

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Benjicot/Davos Blackwood x bracken!reader

summary: after learning of your impending betrothal to another, you and Benji make a plan to stop it

warning: smut 18+ no use of y/n this fic revolves around pregnancy and has some light breeding kinks towards the end. the reader in this is able to get pregnant and is described as a woman.

word count: 3.9k

note: its finally here! i've really enjoyed writing this fic, its been a while since written one and i've never written smut so if its not the best sorry lol. thank you for everyone's support! i hope you guys like it <3 next time I post it will be on this account @dancingaliensfics so if you like this follow that account. also a couple people asked me to tag them so here you go x @alifeinspiredd @gotranting

It's Early in the morning when your father gives you the news. The sun had risen only an hour prior, the days growing short as winter approached, and your mother sat across from you.

Marriage.

You spend some time considering the thought whilst eating your porridge. In any other case, it would have been good news. The list your father had created so far was filled with well-suited men. You recognised some, two Bracken cousins you knew well, a Mallister boy you’d met at a tourney. They were all reasonable ages, only one was older than thirty and he seemed to be an afterthought. Your father assured you that he'd consider your opinion in his choice.

Truthly you were lucky, if it was a year earlier you'd be excited. But the one name you wanted, the only man you would ever consider marrying, wasn't on the list and never would be.

Benjicot Blackwood.

Heir to Raventree Hall, the seat of your enemy house, the man who'd captured your heart 10 moons ago.

And so you sit in silence, eyes distant, as your father speaks to you of balls and meetings and gifts. Your mother watches you quietly, although what goes through her mind you cannot say. Eventually, the conversation fades to noise as you watch the last streaks of pink fade from the sky.

You meet with Benjicot in the same spot you always do. A field of clover and wildflowers, sheltered from the gaze of Stone Hedge by a small patch of woodland. He brings you a bouquet of dandelions, dittander and hedge bindweed he picked himself along the path. Every time you meet he brings you one and each time he hands it to you with that grin before hiding his face in your neck. You love it, and after all this time you still feel your heart flutter at the sight, no matter how torn and pathetic the blooms themselves usually are.

Gods, you love him. And you're certain you'll never love anyone else the same. Still, you hope he hasn't found the bindweed from near your gardens, it's beautiful but so quickly consumes all other plants.

He flops onto the grass and then beckons for you to do the same. Benji wraps his arms around your side and you lean your head on his chest as he begins to tell you about some skirmish at the hedge stones.

“Those Brackens think they can do whatever they please whenever they choose. You’d think they'd have learnt their lesson after the beating we gave them last time.”

As he speaks you pluck at blades of grass beside you, tearing the seeds from the stem. He often forgets your heritage, as you do his, and the reminder makes you anxious.

“Still,” you mutter, “I wish you wouldn't rush so quickly into battle.”

Benji turns his head to look down at you and you feel his breath on your face. He pauses for a few moments, watching you closely before responding.

“You needn't worry, dove, I can hold my own, especially against some Bracken bastards.” His words are harsh and said with a grin but you can feel the sentiment behind them. Still, his answer doesn't satisfy you.

“You're not the only person I stand to lose in a battle.”

The two of you tend to speak little of the different sides you sit on, choosing instead to focus on your shared qualities. But since your father's announcement that morning, you find your heritage is all you can think of.

His hands tighten on your side and he begins to shift in the way he often does when unsettled. “Tell your bracken brethren to stay on their side of the lines then.”

“Yes because it is such a simple thing, to announce our ties to my whole family!” You turn from him with a huff pulling hard on the piece of grass in your grasp. You regret your words immediately but find yourself unwilling to apologise.

Benji pulls his brows tight, running his fingers over the hem of your skirt. He looks like a scolded dog, his face sullen and eyes moving quickly.

“I’m sorry.” He looks at you softly for a moment. “Will you tell me what's bothering you love? You've been down all day.”

You pause for a while, having pulled away all the grass in your little patch, leaving your fingernails stained green.

“My father gave me news.” You lift your head to look at Benji, his eyes watching you closely. “He's finding me a husband.”

“No.” The response comes quickly and with strong conviction.

Baffled by his response, your brows furrow. “What do you mean no?”

“I simply won't let it happen. You're mine and I'm yours and we were destined to be together, I know it. You will not be with anyone else.”

You pull a pained face, turning away from him. How can he say that with such certainty? That he simply won't let your father marry you off as though it's such a simple thing. It's both endearing and irritating.

“It's not so simple you know.” You look out at the setting sun as you speak, “I've been trying to think of ways to avoid it but truthfully, I have nothing to complain about. What can I say to stop it? I've spent so long thinking of options but nothing seems right.”

Benji takes hold of your hands, gazing at you with such intensity it catches you off guard.

“We'll run away together, you and me, right now.”

Your eyes widen and you stumble on your thoughts. What an idea. It's a pleasant thought really and part of you is compelled to accept, to leap up and run away with Benji in that moment. But it is not this part of you that speaks.

“What- Benji- I cannot, we cannot! Where would we even go.”

“Essos, the free cities, the North, gods I'd go to the Iron Islands if it meant I could marry you. Anywhere in the world where the names bracken and blackwood mean nothing.” your heart skips at the thought, that Benjicot Blackwood would abandon his title and land and family to be with you. Travel to an unknown land and begin again. It's a feeling that quickly spreads through your body leaving you warm and filled with a joy so strong it again compels you to accept and leave in that moment.

You run your fingers over his knuckles, feeling the healed cuts and scrapes that cover them. You consider your own family, of your mother, sat at her window, waiting for you to return home. Your father, sending out his men to fruitlessly search across all of Westeros for his beloved daughter.

“I can't Benji.”

“Then we'll go in a few days instead, you can pack your things, and I'll think of a plan of where to go-”

“No Benji.” you look into his eyes. You see in them a future and a path you cannot take at this moment. “I couldn't do that to my family, couldn't leave them forever and you couldn't either. It would break your mother's heart.”

Your words sour his mood and he visibly shrinks. You take his hands fully in your own and reach over to kiss him softly on the cheek. You can feel slight stubble and realise he must have rushed out after receiving your letter. How you love this man.

It isn’t long before you see a new thought arrive in his mind and it's clear he does no further thinking before sharing it.

“I'll just take you then!”

Truthly, your expectations were not high but you still find yourself floored by the stupidity of his ‘plan’.

“What.” You can simply find no other words.

Benji turns to face you fully, squeezing your hands tightly. He has a crazed look on his face and you wonder if this is what your Bracken brethren see on the battlefield.

“Listen, I’ll simply take you with me to Raventree Hall and we will wed there.” He must notice your unimpressed look as he quickly continues. “That way you don't have to go too far and your family will know you're safe. Sure it'll take some time for those Bracken curs to accept it but eventually they'll have to and then you can see them when you please.”

“Safe? Benji, you've come up with some terrible ideas but this is a new level. It would be war! You really believe that my father, that any bracken would simply accept a blackwood taking their daughter in the night?”

“Then war it would be. I'd kill a thousand men to keep you.”

“A thousand of my men, my blood! Yes, what a beautiful honeymoon it would be, setting the funeral piers of my family.”

He falls silent at this and looks down at his hands. You can see him thinking but he has the sense to keep his thoughts to himself. After a few minutes, you sigh and take his hands back in yours, having dropped them at some point during your rant. Leaning over, you capture his lips in your own for just a moment and when you pull away he follows after you.

“Just… leave it to me. I shall think of a plan for us. We can keep yours as a last resort, yes?”

He brightens at this, happy to trust in your judgement. He agrees quickly before closing the small space between you.

It's a week later when you send a raven summoning Benji. As a child, you had discovered passages within Stone Hedge which had long been forgotten and often used them to pass in and out of the castle. Now you and Benji used them to visit each other in secret. It's a few days before he is able to make his way to Stone Hedge, having been corralled by his father into some dull political nonsense you couldn't care less about. By the time he makes it to you, slipping into your chambers using the passage hidden behind large tapestries, you feel truly desperate for him.

It's overwhelming really, how much you love him. Your entire body aches for him, your mind thinks of him at all times. The thought of marrying another leaves you ill and to imagine laying with a man that isn't Benji is truly mad. He knows you in ways no other has, and, if you get your way, never will. So really it's not a surprise that upon seeing you waste no time in pressing yourself to him. As your lips meet you can feel all the stress of the past days leave your mind and you quickly forget what it was you summoned him for. It seems Benji has found himself in a similar position to you as his hands begin to explore your body through your evening gown. His soft touch turns rough as you run your fingers through the coarse strands of his hair.

You pull away, moving toward to settee. He trails after, lounging next to you with his around your shoulders, fingers toying with your hair.

“I’ve had much time to think,” you say hands resting on your lap. “And I believe I've thought of a solution. It’s mad truly, but it is the best chance we have. I am certain I want it but if you do not you must say and that will be final. It is not a decision to take lightly.”

At your serious tone, Benji straightens and looks at you fully. You are nervous, such a proposal is hardly made easily and yet you feel certain in your bones that he will accept. You know he loves you, there is no doubt about it. You only wonder if he is truly ready for a life together.

“I would do anything to be with you, dove. Tell me and it'll be done.”

You sigh at his words, both from frustration and adoration.

“Do not say such things before you hear the proposal.”

“Then tell me it so that I may say them with informed certainty.”

You look him in the eyes then, struggling to find a way to say what you mean.

“I would have your child.”

Benji pauses at this, and you can see confusion in his eyes before he speaks.

“Yes. when we wed we shall have many children, as many as you wish.”

“No Benji,” you squeeze his hands tightly and push yourself to speak. “My father will never choose you as my husband so we must give him no choice. If I was with child, with your child, he would have to accept a marriage or risk shame upon myself and our house. I know my father well and I am sure he would choose my happiness over tradition.”

At this, Benjicot stops and his face falls blank. It's as if his mind is —- and you wait patiently for his response.

“It is…” he stops and then restarts “I would love nothing more than to have a child with you. It is something I have dreamt of and I truly believe myself ready for such responsibility. I do not doubt the longevity of my love for you. So please do not think it is commitment with gives me pause. It is just…” he begins to play with your fingers, nervous energy flowing through him. He stands quickly, releasing your hands though you are used to his restlessness and simply wait for him to return. He paces in a small circle, running his hand through his hair and then returns to his seat.

“I would not do that to you,” he says finally. You look at him in surprise, his answer seeming nonsensical to you.

“You have done it to me many times.”

“No not that,” he says quickly, covering his face in his hands as he thinks again how to phrase what he means.

“I wouldn't put you through such treatment! As an unwed woman to father a child by you. No, I couldn't dishonour you like that.”

“Dishonour me? Benji, you have dishonoured me more times than I could count. By simply being here in this room you dishonour me. We have laid together, many times. If this was a concern of yours, you should have voiced it long ago.” your words are tinged with amusement.

Benjicot stands again, moving his arms wildly.

“And what of how you would be treated? Not just by your parents but every member of the court, the servants, anyone who knew of it. You would be shamed and shunned by others.”

“You think I care what others say of me?”

“I think you will care when it happens.”

“Do not make assumptions on my behalf. I am my own woman, I can make my own choices. And I do not need you, Benjicot Blackwood, to decide such things for me.”

You pause, breathing deeply in an attempt to remove the heat from your voice. It isn’t your intention to force Benji to do this with you and you fear if you continue to argue your meaning will be lost.

“If your reasons to not go forth are your own, because you do not feel ready or because you do not want to, then that is fine and I will accept it.”

Your attempt to calm the situation backfires miserably and your words light a fire inside of Benji.

“Of course not, didn’t say I would marry you in that field? That I would give up everything to be with you. Do not doubt my love.”

“I do not doubt it, Benji. But if you are willing to give up your titles and home, go through battle and fight hundreds to have me, why can't you trust that I would endure the shame of a pregnancy outside of wedlock for you?”

At last, Benji returns to his spot next to you. He looks into the fire but his gaze is distant.

“I can protect you from danger, from enemies. I can kill any man that threatens you. I can stand with you in fire and pain. But I can’t save you from cruel words and shame. This is… it's something you’ll have to bear alone. And I hate the thought of it.”

At last, you understand his meaning. Benjicot Blackwood is not a man who often loses control. He is fierce and strong and can slay any man who comes in his path.

“I am strong. And I can protect myself, just this once. And you will be stood with, at my side, to give me strength when I fail.”

“I know, I just fear you aren’t ready.”

“I am ready.”

A coy smile spreads across your face.

“Let me convince you.”

At that you kiss him, one hand placed on his cheek and the other on his chest. He quickly reciprocates and you move closer until you can throw one leg over his lap. His hands find your hair, attempting to undo your intricate braids before pulling away in frustration and glaring at the strands. You laugh lightly, moving to remove your pins as he reaches for your neck, leaving a firm bite before his tongue lathes over the area. His ministrations pull a soft moan from your mouth and as he lifts your skirts to run his hand up the soft skin of your thigh, your hair is released.

His other hand quickly finds its way into your hair, fingers weaving into the strands before your head is pulled back allowing better access to your neck. As Benji continues trailing kisses across your neck and chest, you begin to move yourself on his lap, grinding against him as you feel his cock harden beneath his breeches. How you long to feel him inside you, and the thought of him staying even as he reached his peak, seed spilling inside you, has you moving with increased vigour. Benji begins to let out his quiet groans and pants to match your soft moaning and it's not long before he has your behind held firmly in his grip.

His mouth reaches the neckline of your dresses and begins to suck marks onto your skin while you fumble with the fastening of your gown. Once the bodice is undone and the stays are loosened, he pulls them down, taking your breasts into his hands. His mouth quickly latches onto one of your peaks and his tongue swirls around them. He shows you no mercy in his actions, hands pressing so tight they are sure to leave bruises. Benji moves his hand to your core, fingers covering themselves in your wetness before pressing against your clit. They move quickly, circling your bud for some time before travelling towards your hole. His thumb moves to take its place, pressing firmly against you as it rubs. His fingers prod gently at your hole, before one slips inside. He stays like this, easing his finger inside of you until you're ready to take another. His fingers move inside of you for a few minutes, your walls clenching around them as they stroke, before they increase in speed, beginning to curl deep inside of you. Benji continues to assault your chest, relishing in the moans and whines he pulls from your lips.

It isn't long, however, before he pulls away from your chest to speak.

“I need you, my love.” he lifts your chin so that your eyes meet. You lean forward and kiss him, giving your answer through your actions. He removes his fingers from you, wiping them on your dress much to your disgust before standing, holding you with his hands beneath your ass and your legs around his waist.

He moves quickly towards the bed and, though he's strong, you can see him focusing on not dropping you. You take the chance to join your lips to his neck, leaving your marks there. Although you know him to be faithful to you, you can’t stand the thought of any Blackwood whore making a pass at him and the hickeys serve to claim him as yours. Gods, you think, you must stop thinking in such ways, you’ll be a Blackwood yourself soon. The thought leaves you giddy and you grin at his neck. Benji drops you rather unceremoniously onto the bed before staring at you with a bemused look on his face.

“What you grinning about him?”

“Just the thought that I will soon be your wife.”

His grin widens at that and he leans down to capture your lips once again.

“Yes, my wife and I'll be your husband.”

You kiss him again, biting his lip and tugging on it slightly.

“All mine.” your words pull a deep moan from him.

It isn’t long before both of you have stripped completely and you find yourself lying back on the sheets, Benji between your legs. He moves quickly above you, rubbing his cock against your folds, the head catching perfectly on your clit with every stroke. You moan wantonly, fingers reaching up to pull Benji towards your lips by the hair. Your firm grip causes him to groan deeply into your mouth and his movements increase in speed. It isn't long though before you pull away.

“Benji, darling, I need you inside of me please.”

You're expecting him to tease you, and make a joke about your begging and neediness but instead, he lets out a long breath, before reaching down and taking himself in hand. He runs the tip of his cock along your wetness once more before pressing inside of you. Your body accepts him eagerly and it isn't long before he fills you. How could you ever marry another when even your body is moulded perfectly to him? The sounds of your pleasure harmonise as Benji begins to move inside of you. His thrusts are fast and deep as always, his hips snapping against yours with every thrust. You feel your mind slipping as your sounds increase in volume. Your hands roam his whole body. Filthy words spill from your lips.

“Benji please my love- ah- I must have you. Please”

“You have me sweet one, you have me.”

You pull roughly on his hair at his words.

“No I must have all of you, please I need your seed. I want you to cum inside me.”

His hips stutter before his thrusts continue with increased fervour.

“Fill me please Benji, it will feel so good.”

Benji lays his head in the crook of your neck moaning without restraint. You feel yourself reaching your peak quickly and want him to cum with you. You lift your legs and wrap them tightly around his waist, moaning, turning to shrieks.

“I love you so much Benji,” you cry out, fingernails leaving scratches down his back. “I love you and I want your baby, please cum inside me.”

At your words, Benji lets out a choked sound, hips pressing firm against you, and feels the warmth of his release spill inside of you, pulling you to your peak alongside him. Your eyes squeeze shut, but if they hadn’t you would have seen the most delightful look on Benji’s face and he finished inside of you. It takes some time for his cock to stop twitching and even longer for the both of you to come back to the world of the living. Benji begins to lift himself off of you, but you tighten your legs.

“Stay.”

A simple command that he follows without question.

#benjicot blackwood #benjicot blackwood x reader #davos blackwood #benjicot x reader #davos blackwood x reader #hotd

664 notes · View notes

jezabelle9299 · 5 months ago

Text

Make-up Birthday S.R x FEM! Reader

Overture: Spencer didn't just miss your birthday he forgot it. (Happy Ending)

C-Ws: Missed occasions, pushing down feelings for the benefit of another person, Spencer chose Gideon over you

A/N- Baby's first angst, go easy on me. And I've been in a sour mood so I have 2 other angst fics (also birthday themed), that will probably be posted sometime this week. Our regularly scheduled sap will return next week.

You weren’t a very big birthday person. Of course when you were young you had birthday parties with all of your little friends, but as time went on, things got busy. It was pushed to the side for years, until you preferred to just ignore it. Until a few weeks ago, when Spencer asked what you’d like to do to celebrate. You told him nothing was necessary, but he insisted that the two of you at least spend the day together. You let yourself get excited, you made good plans, just takeout and movie night, but that was enough. If it were anyone else you’d remind him, several times, but you knew he wouldn’t forget. He didn’t forget anything.

This morning you woke up to an empty bed, and you knew Spencer had gone to work. He had a few meetings he mentioned having to go to about their latest cases, but you weren't expecting him until this evening. The day passed you by when you got set up, but time slowed down when there was nothing to do but wait. Each second passed a little slower than the last, until you got worried. You haven't heard from Spencer all day.

You: Hey Spence, everything ok?

Spence: I’m ok, just got caught up at work. I’ll come to your place as soon as I can.

You: Ok, see you then

You were glad he was ok, and you knew he’d rather be with you, than at work. Something important must’ve come up, he wouldn’t miss this over nothing. But time passed with no more texts, until you resigned yourself to him just not coming. You changed from your date outfit into some comfy pajamas, and laid down in bed. You weren’t upset with Spencer, this job was important to him, and you knew he felt like he had something to prove just being there. You could celebrate another day.

It wasn't until well after nine when Gideon asked Spencer what he was still doing here, he’d mentioned weeks ago that he’d need to leave early. That’s when Spencer realized what he was missing. It wasn’t just movie night, by now he’d missed almost your entire birthday, after he’d pressed you to celebrate it at all. He rushed out as quickly as possible, but by the time he got to your place it was too late. He knocked on the door and as soon as you answered, all the apologies came pouring out. He couldn’t make himself stop until you put your hands on either side of his face making him look you in the eyes.

“It’s ok Spence, I know how important your job is, and we can celebrate another day.”

He leaned down to hug you, burying his face in your neck. “I’m so sorry honey, it totally slipped my mind. But I promise to make it up to you.” You pulled away from him at that.

“Wait, what do you mean?” He just looked at you, like he was replaying what he said to figure out what he did wrong.

“You–you forgot?”

“I thought you knew.”

“No, I didn’t. I had this picture in my mind, like when you leave for cases, when you tell me how you wish you could be here.”

“I do wish I was here, baby. You mean the world to me.” You couldn’t keep doing this, his reassurance was breaking you down bit by bit. Sure now he wished he was there, but he didn’t even realize you were missing him.

“I’m gonna go for a drive I think, we don’t have to celebrate another day, it’s fine.”

“No please stay– please let me make this up to you.” His phone rang. A shrill tone cutting through, nearly making you wince.

“It’s Gideon, I have to take this. But please stay with me, I want to talk about this. It’ll only take a minute.”

“It’s fine, I’ll talk to you tomorrow Spence, just remember to lock up when you leave ok?” You picked up your shoes and keys before you walked out, still in your pajamas. You gave him not even half of a smile, and it was breaking his heart. But he couldn’t ignore the call.

Gideon was like a father to him, and even though he winced when the door shut behind you, quietly, as if you weren’t even upset, he still answered. There wasn’t even a case, Gideon just had a question about some evidence. Nothing would’ve happened if he didn’t answer, no one was dying, and the only one hurt was you. He couldn’t have just ignored the call, and now you were gone.

Spencer didn’t forget anything, but somehow he forgot this.

You weren't sure where you’d go. You decided to allow yourself one evening to be upset. To acknowledge that this whole situation sucks and honestly today your usually wonderful boyfriend kind of sucks too. You’ll feel guilty about it tomorrow, but tonight you're going to drive an hour and a half down the highway, just to turn back around so you could avoid the drunk drivers on the road when the bars close. Spencer should be gone by then, you’re sure Gideon was calling to steal your boyfriend away on a case again and you’d call him in the morning to make sure he got there ok and tell him to be safe like you always did.

What Spencer did was important, and you couldn’t be mad at him for missing something as silly as a birthday for a work problem. But he wasn’t out saving lives like you thought. It may be selfish or overly-presumptuous about your standing in his life, but when you missed him it made you feel better to think he was missing you just as much. How he was at work thinking about how he loved you. And today was the day that illusion shattered.

You could only sob at the thought.

By the time you got home, it was almost 1am. The redness in your eyes finally started to subside, you got too dehydrated to continue actually crying almost an hour ago, so that’s when you decided that the time for being upset over this was done. Even the puffiness in your face was going down. But when you unlocked the door, Spencer was waiting for you.

“You’re home.”

“You’re here. I thought you had a case.”

“No, Gideon just had a question about some evidence, I wanted to be here when you got back.”

“That’s sweet of you Spencer, but I just went for a quick drive. I’m kind of tired, so I think I’m just going to head to bed now, ok? But I’ll see you in the morning.” You gave him a resigned kiss on the forehead and his heart broke. He did this. And you called him Spencer, not ‘Spence’, not ‘honey’, not ‘babe’. Spencer. It never sounded so awful.

He did all he could do, he slept on the couch and let you rest. You would be talking about this in the morning. You couldn’t shut him out forever, he loved you too much.

The beeping of the coffee machine woke him up, his legs half hanging off your couch. He immediately got up. If the coffee machine was going off, you were awake, and you could talk about last night.

“Honey?”

“Hi, I didn’t realize you’d stayed here last night, were you too tired to drive?”

“No, but I wanted to be here when you woke up.”

“You could've slept in my bed with me.” You were glad he didn’t. But you wanted to maintain your facade, you wanted to forgive him, and forget about everything.

“You’re upset with me, I wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m not upset.”

“You’re the love of my life and I hurt you. You don’t have to pretend to be ok with it.”

“It was one day, Spencer. It’s fine, you don’t have to sleep on the couch as penance.” You were putting on your coolest presence, but everything you said still came out as more of a mumble than it would’ve.

“I need you to listen to me, you are the most important person in my life. I love you so much it hurts, and I can’t stand the thought of you thinking I forgot about you.” That broke your barely held together exterior of confidence.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I need you to know that I love you, I can’t just let this go.”

“Ok fine. You made me celebrate my birthday and when you forgot anyway, it hurt my feelings. But I don’t want a makeup birthday, and I wish I could just forget about it, and I don’t understand why you want me to be mad at you.”

“I don’t want you to be mad, but when you are mad, I need you to tell me. I can’t do anything to help if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“But I don’t want you to know when I’m upset. I want to be the cool girlfriend that doesn’t get upset when her boyfriend does something by accident. You are the best boyfriend I’ve ever had and when you make one mistake about something I wouldn’t have even cared about a month ago, I can’t get over it. But I really want to get over it, so could we please just forget about it?” By this point tears were flowing down your face, but you were still wiping your face every few seconds to stop them in their tracks.

“No we can’t just forget, I think you’re the coolest girl I’ve ever met, and it’s not because you ignore your feelings whenever you think they’d be inconvenient. I want to spend the day with you if you’d be ok with it, but if you want some time alone that’s ok too.”

“I want to spend the day with you. But could we leave out the birthday theme?”

“Sure honey, whatever you want, I’m all yours.”

“You know I love you Spence, right?”

“I know, I love you too.” It was an upsetting morning, but he was still overjoyed that you called him ‘Spence’ again. He’d earned his pet name back.

“Do you really think I’m cool?” It was barely spoken into his chest, moreso whined, muffled by the fabric of his sweater vest. At this moment, you were so uncool. Yet he still kissed your forehead as he laughed.

“The coolest.”

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst

418 notes · View notes

chenlezip · 22 days ago

Text

tell your friends ♡

PAIRING : fratboy!haechan x reader

SUMMARY : you tell your friends you hate him but you can't get enough.

WARNINGS : smoker!reader + smoker!hyuck (my baddd), swearing, not proof read.. idk what else ngl.. >_<

A/N : literally just got this idea because im listening to music while writing and.. chase atlantic came on, heard that line and thought, hell yeah i know what i'm gonna write. also lil smau? idk? im also really craving a sex on the beach now.. *lets out a heavy sigh* beggars can’t be choosers..

might make a part two, who knows? let me know :3 i just wanted to post this and see how it goes .

and… here you are, stood outside a random club waiting for your friends to come meet you. you were clad in a cute jean mini skirt, a bralette with a small cardigan on and knee high boots; obviously paired with cute accessories and having your hair done nicely, what if you saw a cute boy? you had to be prepared.

as you waited, you had a look at all the people who were heading inside, they were dressed just as good. i guess this club is where all the attractive people go, huh? you thought to yourself before you noticed one man who looked oddly very familiar. fuck, it’s haechan.

haechan noticed you out the corner of his eye as he waited outside with a friend, smirking and nudging the boy beside him, eyeing your direction. the boy looked over and noticed you, he looked stunned almost, immediately turning back around to haechan and whispering. you wondered what they were talking about but before you could go over, you heard karina screaming your name.

“y/n! oh my god!” she smiled as she ran toward you, engulfing you into a tight hug. it’s been a while since you’ve all seen each other so it was nice to finally get to hang with your girls again. “i’ve missed you guys so much, ugh.. you all look so good!”

“as do you!! i can’t wait to get fucked up tonight, i’ve already pre booked a taxi so do nottt worry~ i’ve got us covered, it’ll be coming 2am so we should leave early just to make sure we get it alright,” giselle explained to you all as you nodded in return, “i can give you some money toward it when i’m not wasted - just let me know, okay?” you smile as she shook her head.

“no need y/n, it’s my treat, come on!” giselle dragged you and the girls inside, sitting in a booth and scouring through the drinks menu. “i don’t know what to get.. everything sounds good,” ningning mumbled as she looked at the rest of you, “anyone know what they’re getting?”

“i’m just gonna get a sex on the beach - always my go to,” you spoke up as you waited for the others to be done deciding. once you all were, you ordered and had them delivered to the table, thanking the waiter who brought them over.

──── ୨୧ ────

you excuse yourself from the girls for a moment, wanting some fresh air and to light up a cigarette. you were dying for one and the alcohol in your system wasn’t helping your case either. as soon as you stepped out the club, you felt the night air hitting you and you let out a soft sigh. the wind made you feel a little bit more sober. you spark up a cig and place it between your lips, inhaling and breathing in the smoke. oh, how you missed this.

“got a spare?” you recognise that voice from anywhere. you gaze up and see haechan standing just opposite you, a lazy grin on his face as he stared you up and down. you just give him the one you were just smoking and spark up another. “thanks.” he says as he leans against the wall beside you.

“no problem,” you respond coldly as you look away, trying to find anything other than him to look at but you can’t help your eyes from wandering back.. he looked good tonight. his floppy brown hair was slicked back nearly, his golden skin glistening under the street light that was outside the club, a leather jacket and his white shirt adorning his body. you swore to yourself the last time you saw haechan that you still hated him.. but he knows otherwise and deep inside, so do you.

“still claiming you hate me then?” he eyed you, turning to lean on his shoulder now. you cough, “what?” you didn’t expect him to ask you that out of the blue. “you tell your friends you hate me but i know you can’t get enough, y/n, you’re not very secretive with it, huh?” he blew smoke out into the air. you focused on the way his lips parted a little, his jaw.. his adam’s apple.

you shake your head, “you’re seeing things lee donghyuck, maybe you should see someone for these delusions?” he just laughed in your face and threw his (your) cigarette to the ground, “yeah.. maybe i should, huh? but i won’t if you come crawling back again tonight,” he says before stepping on it to put it out properly and walking back inside the club. you go on your phone after he’s left and quickly type something on twitter, posting it to your private account.

you decide to head back inside and you just can’t seem to get your mind off of him, your eyes wandering around the club to find him. you see he’s got a pretty girl slung around him, she’s pressing her body up against him. never mind, you definitely hate him, why were you even starting to like a frat boy anyway? hello?

#haechan smut imagines #haechan x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader smut #nct dream smut #lee donghyuck x reader #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck x reader smut #nct dream x reader imagine #haechan smut #lee haechan smut

222 notes · View notes

vibelladonna · 19 days ago

Note

Hi!!! I love your stories, they really make my day better!! I have an idea about Crow×Y/N, if this order is not interesting to you, sorry for the disturbance!!

Is it possible to react to the fact that Y/N began to avoid Crow because of fear of unrequited love and rejection, but in the end Crow catches up with us and interrogates us why we behave so strangely and confess our feelings to him

Sorry if this order is very boring but in any case good luck to you!!

❛ 𝒷𝓊𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓃 ❜ 𝜗𝜚 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒 𝓍 𝑔𝓃! 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

· ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── ·

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: You've been avoiding Crow lately, too afraid to face your growing feelings for him. But when he finally catches up with you, he demands to know why you've been acting so strangely, forcing you to confront the truth.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉: Anonymous asked! I really like the idea of fear of unrequited love and rejection—definitely something I’d feel in that kind of situation. Also, for some reason, the ask box isn’t showing up on my phone, but it’s working fine on my laptop! I’ll be posting a few fics this week—probably no more than three.

Sorry for the absence; I’ve been taking a mental break, catching up on sleep, and getting ready to head back to campus for the spring semester next week. But don’t worry, I’ll still be working on fics during the weekends or whenever I have free time!

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓈: Angst, Unrequited Love, Emotional Tension, Hurt/Comfort, Confession, Avoidance, Self-Doubt, Internal Struggle, Miscommunication, and Fluff (towards the end—I’m not heartless)! Also, some spicy moments to add in!

It had been two weeks since you mentioned the research options for your major—the ones you promised would keep you busy, even distracted. You’d told Crowe that your time would be consumed with textbooks and endless articles, diving into opportunities related to your major. But as the days passed, something felt off. The absence of your usual messages, your familiar presence in the hallways, and the sound of your voice in class slowly began to gnaw at him.

Crowe had reached out several times. Texts, DMs, and even a couple of voicemails. Yet, there was nothing. No replies.

It wasn’t like you to shut him out.

You were always upfront—maybe too upfront at times—but that brutal honesty was something Crowe genuinely admired about you. And now? Silence. Complete, unnerving silence.

His mind kept returning to the same question: What happened?

"Have you heard from them?" Crowe asked his voice tight with concern. Brittney Claire—better known as Brit—had been the first to ask about you, her tall, tan figure framed against the backdrop of the student lounge one evening when she approached him. Her usually narrowed, indifferent eyes were now clouded with worry.

"No," Brit replied, her brow furrowing as she gave him a puzzled look. "Not since they said they were diving into research. You sure you’ve been trying to reach them?"

Crowe’s grip on the strap of his bag tightened, his fingers digging into the material as he suppressed his frustration. "Of course I have. More than once. They haven’t even texted me back, and you know that’s not like them."

Brit raised an eyebrow, her gaze scanning him for a beat before her face morphed into something unreadable. "Weird," she muttered, her voice laced with suspicion. "I thought you were always the one in the know, Crowe. You two are closer than anyone else. You should know where they are."

The comment hit harder than he expected. It wasn’t about being in the loop, or being ‘close’—it was about making sure you were okay.

Brit took a step back, her expression softening as she saw the tension in Crowe’s shoulders. She sighed, exhaling deeply as if weighing the situation in her mind. "I can tell you're worried," she said, her tone gentler now. "Want me to help you track them down?"

Crowe shook his head immediately, a quiet, unspoken tension hanging in the space between them. "No. I’ll find them myself."

And he would. Crowe was never one to back down, especially when it came to you. He knew better than anyone that you didn’t just vanish without a reason, without something pulling you away.

Something was wrong.

And he was going to find out what it was—no matter what it took.

Crowe didn’t waste any time before setting out for your usual spots—those places where he knew you’d be if you weren’t anywhere else. First, he hit the quiet corner in the library where you both spent hours lost in books, your heads bent low over pages in comfortable silence.

Then, he headed to the small café where late-night study sessions were more the norm than the exception, the place where caffeine-fueled discussions lingered well past midnight.

Lastly, he checked the campus bench you’d both claimed as your own, the one that had become a quiet sanctuary, a place for shared moments and unspoken understanding. But after hours of searching, there was no sign of you. No flicker of movement, no trace of your presence.

The sky was darkening as Crowe made his way back to his dorm, his steps slow and deliberate, each one echoing the frustration he couldn’t shake. His mind replayed every moment, every conversation, trying to find something, anything, that could explain where you were. He pulled his phone from his pocket, a small distraction from the weight of his thoughts. It buzzed in his hand, and he glanced down at the new message from Brittney.

Britt: Still no word from them, huh?

Crowe: Nope. Can’t find them anywhere on campus. It’s like they vanished.

Britt: Wow. I can't help but feel like they're avoiding us.

Crowe’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening around the phone. He froze in his tracks. The thought of you avoiding him felt wrong, so foreign it stung. The words on the screen replayed in his head, each one sinking deeper into his chest.

Avoiding them? Avoiding him? Was that really what was happening? Was that what this was about?

He wasn’t blind. He could feel it too—the subtle yet undeniable shift between you and him. Maybe it had been slow, so gradual that it had escaped his notice at first, creeping in like a shadow until it had grown large enough to demand attention. Or maybe it had always been there, lingering just beneath the surface, like an undercurrent quietly pulling at the edges of everything.

But whatever it was, it had become a wall. A barrier neither of you could ignore. And the more he thought about it, the more it became clear that it wasn’t some external force—it was a wall *you* had built. It was as if you had crafted it with your own hands, piece by piece, and now it loomed between you two, tall and impenetrable.

He couldn’t understand why it was there, or why you hadn’t said anything about it. The silence only deepened his confusion, turning it into something more tangible, something he couldn’t shake off. Every attempt to breach it seemed futile, like reaching for something just out of his grasp.

With each passing day, the weight of the uncertainty pressed down on him, a burden that grew heavier with every thought, every glance exchanged in passing, every conversation that no longer felt like it used to. It gnawed at him relentlessly, demanding answers he didn’t have. He couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine, that nothing had changed.

Something had to happend.

Something had to give. He felt it in his bones, knew it with a certainty he couldn’t ignore. And as much as he tried to deny it, he knew it had to happen the last time he had seen you.

Two weeks ago. The night had started like any other. You and Crowe had settled into your usual study spot in the back corner of the library—your quiet sanctuary, where the world outside felt distant, far away. It was familiar. Comfortable. The soft hum of overhead lights was the only sound, broken only by the occasional rustling of pages as you both worked in your own quiet spaces.

The books were scattered across the table, the glow of your laptop screen illuminating your face as you juggled between tabs. Crowe sat across from you, flipping through his notes with the same casual air he always had, the same easygoing demeanor he had perfected over the years.

But there was something different that night.

Even though everything looked the same, and felt the same, there was a tension in the air—a subtle crackling energy, just beneath the surface. It had been there for a while now, but on that night, it had reached a breaking point.

You were buried in your research, absorbing every detail of your thesis like it was the only thing that mattered in the world.

You hadn’t realized how much time had passed when Crowe’s voice broke through your concentration, sounding unusually thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the future recently,” he said, his voice carrying a quiet intensity that was different from his usual playful tone.

Your eyes flickered up to meet his for a brief second before you quickly looked away. “Oh?” you murmured, distracted as you tried to focus on the data in front of you. You weren’t expecting this turn in the conversation. Crowe didn’t usually get into those heavy ‘future’ talks unless he was in a reflective mood, and even then, it was usually all about abstract goals or vague aspirations.

Nothing serious.

“Yeah,” Crowe continued, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as though bracing himself for something weightier. His voice softened, carrying an introspective tone that felt rare for him. “You know, we’re already in our third year, right? Time’s flying faster than I ever expected. And… I’ve been thinking, by the time I graduate, I want to have things a bit more figured out. Like, I want to be in a solid relationship. Someone to share things with, someone who’s… there.”

His words hit you like an unexpected gust of cold air, leaving you momentarily stunned. You blinked, once, twice, the weight of his admission sinking in slowly but steadily.

A relationship?

Crowe—the same Crowe who treated most connections with a kind of playful fun—is talking about settling down? The concept felt alien, foreign, and yet it lodged itself uncomfortably in your chest.

You cleared your throat, more to buy time than anything else, carefully composing your response. “That’s… ambitious,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt, though there was a sharpness to your words that you couldn’t quite dull. Your eyes stayed glued to the screen in front of you, a half-hearted barrier between the two of you. The flickering light cast an impassive glow over your face, but inside, your emotions churned in a quiet storm of confusion and irritation.

Crowe didn’t seem fazed—or maybe he was just good at masking it. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than usual, searching for something unsaid. Then he shrugged, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, though his expression stayed contemplative. “I don’t know if it’s ambitious,” he said after a pause, his tone lighter but no less sincere.

“I mean, it just feels… right. We spend so much time trying to figure out majors, careers, all the practical stuff, but at the end of the day, I want someone to share the milestones with, you know? Graduating, finding a job, moving somewhere new… I don’t want to do all that alone.”

His words pulled at something deep and unwelcome inside you, a stirring that you couldn’t quite name.

Irritation, yes—but mixed with something softer, more vulnerable, something that whispered of fear and longing.

The idea of Crowe sharing those moments, those significant pieces of his life, with someone else clawed at the carefully constructed walls you’d built around your thoughts.

“Isn’t that kind of distracting?” you asked, keeping your tone deliberately neutral, though there was an edge to your voice you couldn’t fully mask. “I mean, wouldn’t you rather focus on making sure you’ve got everything in place first before worrying about… all that?”

Crowe tilted his head, his expression thoughtful now, as though weighing your words. “Maybe,” he admitted, his gaze softening as he spoke. “But I don’t think it’s about having everything perfect. Life’s always messy, you know? I just think it’d be nice to have someone who gets it, who’s there to celebrate the wins and help carry the weight when things aren’t so great.”

He said it so earnestly, so casually, that it made your chest ache. Crowe—so confident, so carefree—talking about sharing his life with someone as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

And yet, for you, the very idea felt impossible, like a weight pressing down on something fragile inside you.

You forced a small, humorless laugh, hoping it masked the way your pulse quickened. “You make it sound so simple,” you said, the words coming out sharper than you intended. “Like finding the right person is just another thing to check off the list.”

Crowe raised an eyebrow at your tone, but his smile didn’t waver. If anything, it softened. “It’s not simple,” he said quietly. “But I think it’s worth it. Don’t you?”

The question hung between you, heavy and unspoken, as if he were asking something far deeper than his words implied. And for the briefest moment, you wondered if he already knew your answer.

It was like you were looking at something through a window that you couldn’t reach—this whole world of connections, of intimacy, of people who could be close to you in ways that didn’t make sense to you. Maybe that was the problem.

You didn’t really get it.

You didn’t need it.

You let out a breath, trying to steady yourself, and forced your attention back to the work in front of you. “I don’t know about that,” you said, your voice a little sharper than you intended. “I think I’d rather focus on things that I can actually control.”

There was a brief pause as Crowe looked at you, his gaze shifting. You could see the curiosity flicker across his face, but he didn’t press. Instead, he shifted slightly in his seat. “Like your thesis?” he asked, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.

You nodded quickly, relieved that the conversation was shifting to familiar ground. “Yeah,” you said, a little more briskly than you meant to. “I’m thinking about neuropsychology—studying the effects of plants on the brain. There’s so much to dive into. I’ll be swamped for a while.”

Crowe raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the shift in topic. “Sounds intense. You sure you’re okay with taking on that much work?” He was leaning forward now, his tone lighter but with an edge of concern.

You offered a quick smile, trying to hide the irritation that lingered beneath the surface. “Yeah. I can handle it. Besides, it’s something to keep me occupied, right?” The words came out a little too dismissive, a little too defensive.

But you weren’t about to admit that you were irritated—especially not to him.

Crowe nodded, but there was something unreadable in his expression as he pulled back, falling into a more relaxed posture. He didn’t seem to press the issue further, and the silence between you grew.

It wasn’t the comfortable silence that usually settled over the two of you; instead, it was filled with strange tension. That was the last conversation you’d had. Since then, the silence had stretched on, thick and unyielding.

Crowe stared down at his phone screen, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. He'd sent you another message—another question, another attempt to bridge the gap. The usual routine had gone on for two weeks now: he'd reach out, you’d read it, and leave him on read. No replies. Nothing.

Crowe: We need to talk.

He stared at the text, as the three little dots appeared and disappeared, signaling that you'd seen it but hadn’t bothered to respond.

This time, something felt different.

The pit in his stomach had grown heavier, gnawing at him with each unread message that followed. We need to talk was simple enough. He wasn’t expecting an essay, just a sign of life. He’d gotten used to the silence, but now it was starting to feel like something was seriously wrong.

Each message, each time he saw you’d opened it but not replied, made him worry more. He couldn’t ignore it any longer. What happened? Why weren’t you talking to him?

Crowe: Please, just let me know you’re okay.

That message had been sent hours ago. And yet, still nothing. He stared at his phone in disbelief as his frustration built, a mixture of concern and something else he couldn’t quite name. Maybe it was fear. Fear of whatever was keeping you away from him.

He had tried everything. Texts. Calls. Even showing up at your usual spots: the library, the cafe, your dorm. Every time, nothing. Your absence was unsettling, but the worst part? The silence that surrounded him, like you were intentionally shutting him out.

Crowe sat in the student council room, reviewing papers, His phone buzzed again, but it wasn’t from you. It was from Brittney.

Britt: Still nothing? You’ve been trying for days. You okay?

He rubbed his temples, rereading the message. No. I’m not okay. I need to figure this out.

Crowe’s mind raced as he trudged across campus, his pace uneven, his steps quick and deliberate. The cool evening air bit at his skin, but the sting was nothing compared to the ache of frustration twisting in his chest.

For two weeks now, his messages had gone unanswered—a deafening silence where there used to be light and warmth. Each time he saw that familiar “read” receipt pop up without a reply, it hit him like a sucker punch, leaving him reeling in confusion and hurt.

He couldn’t piece together what had gone wrong. What had he said? What had he done? It felt like you’d vanished behind an invisible wall, one he didn’t know how to break down. He clenched his fists as he replayed the situation over and over, searching for clues he might have missed.

Crowe: I’m worried about you. Please respond.

His messages were a litany of concern, a trail of breadcrumbs leading back to his growing desperation. The most recent ones hadn’t even been opened. That unread status haunted him, the silence stretching out between you like a thick fog, impenetrable and cold.

He left the campus library, his latest attempt to find you failing. His bag felt unnaturally heavy, burdened by more than just books. Instead of heading straight to the bus stop, his feet carried him toward the campus greenhouse—a detour he often took when his mind felt too crowded.

The greenhouse was typically locked this late, reserved only for students with keys. Yet when he tested the handle, it gave way. His pulse quickened as he slipped inside, pausing just long enough to turn the lock behind him.

The quiet click echoed in the humid, earthy air as if sealing him in with the weight of his thoughts.

The rich scent of soil and greenery enveloped him, mingling with the faint sweetness of blooming flowers. Rows of plants stretched before him, neatly arranged under the muted glow of hanging grow lights. Dew clung to leaves, sparkling faintly in the dim light, while vines traced languid patterns along wooden trellises. The indoor greenhouse was alive in its quiet way, untouched by the busy outside world.

He moved cautiously down the tiled paths, the soft rhythm of his footsteps blending with the distant hum of machinery and the occasional drip of water. The tranquility should have been soothing, but tonight it felt oppressive, amplifying the ache that had settled in his chest.

This had been your sanctuary once. He could still picture you here—curled up on a bench, book in hand, the golden light casting a soft glow over your features. You had always seemed at home among the plants, as though the gentle stillness of the greenhouse mirrored something deep within you.

But it had been two weeks now.

Two weeks of searching, of hoping, of finding only emptiness where you used to be. Each familiar corner he passed seemed to taunt him with your absence, the memory of you lingering like the faint, fading scent of flowers.

Crowe sighed, ready to turn back, when a soft sound broke through the stillness. Footsteps. Light, deliberate, almost hesitant.

His heart jumped, a flicker of hope sparking as he turned—and there you were.

You stood near the far wall, surrounded by rows of delicate plants, their green tendrils climbing along lattices like silent witnesses. Your back was to him, your posture slightly hunched as you scribbled something in a small notebook. The sight of you, after weeks of absence, stopped him in his tracks.

You weren’t the picture of confidence he was used to—sharp-eyed and self-assured, quick with a remark or an unshakable glance. Instead, there was a fragility in the way you stood, as if the weight of something unseen pressed heavily on your shoulders. Your usual energy seemed dimmed, your movements slower, your presence quieter.

He froze, his throat tightening. The relief of seeing you mingled with an ache he couldn’t name. He’d imagined this moment so many times, playing out conversations in his mind, planning what he’d say. But now that you were here, just a few steps away, he felt unmoored.

The silence stretched between you, thick and uncertain. He wanted to call out to you, to say your name, but the words lodged in his throat. He wanted to reach out, but something in your demeanor held him back—something almost sacred in your solitude.

Then, as if sensing his gaze, you turned your head slightly, just enough for your eyes to meet his. For a moment, the world stopped.

Your expression was unreadable, but your eyes told him everything. They looked tired, shadowed with a weight you hadn’t shared, a depth of exhaustion that even your usual composure couldn’t mask. There was an emptiness there, a hollow ache that mirrored the one in his chest.

Crowe opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. He could only stand there, caught in the stillness of the moment, hoping you wouldn’t disappear again.

Here’s the revised version:

“Crowe…” You called out, your voice tinged with surprise and a hint of weariness. Your widened eyes betrayed a subtle attempt to mask the dark circles beneath them. “Hey! I haven’t seen you in forever…” Your words tapered off as your attention shifted to a nearby potted plant. Lifting it delicately, you turned it in your hands, inspecting its leaves. “I’ve been busy—almost done with my bio project,” you added, a faint glimmer of pride flickering in your tone.

Crowe stepped closer, his gaze narrowing with concern. “What? I thought you were focusing on stuff for your major,” he said, crossing his arms as he watched you.

“I am,” you replied matter-of-factly, not looking at him as you set the plant down and moved to the next one. “If I can show the professor my research and notes, I might have a shot at getting into the advanced program.”

Crowe’s frown deepened as he trailed behind you through the rows of greenery. “So this is what you’ve been up to? Holing yourself up in the greenhouse since the last time we hung out?”

“Pretty much,” you said without missing a beat, brushing your fingers over the delicate leaves of another plant. “It’s amazing in here. Did you know some plants can grow perfectly well without direct sunlight?” The question left your lips effortlessly, your voice infused with an enthusiasm Crowe hadn’t heard in a while.

The greenhouse air was thick and humid, imbued with the earthy scent of soil and vegetation. Rows of plants, thriving in various stages of growth, surrounded you both, their shadows shifting under the soft glow of artificial grow lights. The hum of machinery underscored the space, a quiet reminder of the technology keeping this verdant haven alive.

As you wandered deeper, Crowe’s eyes scanned the surroundings until something caught his attention—a small corner transformed into a makeshift workstation. Papers were strewn across the desk, dense with notes and diagrams. A microscope occupied one corner, and a row of glass beakers filled with vibrant liquids gleamed under the lights.

Nearby, a neatly folded blanket rested and pillow on a couch alongside a half-empty thermos and an open textbook. Crowe stopped in his tracks, realization hitting him. “Wait… have you been sleeping here?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

You paused for a moment, glancing back at him. “Only when I need to finish something urgent, it’s only been one night,” you said defensively, turning back to your work.

Crowe was filled with concern as he watched you move with quiet determination. His voice softened, almost pleading. “You need to take a break, you know. You can’t keep running on fumes like this.”

You didn’t look up, your focus fixed on a delicate orchid in need of pruning. “I’m fine, Crowe,” you replied, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with the back of your hand. Your voice was calm, but the tightness in your posture betrayed you. “I just need to finish this. The professor trusted me with the key while she was on vacation. She wanted me to keep an eye on the plants, so I need to take advantage of the time.”

Crowe raised an eyebrow, glancing around the space. “Really? This room?”

“It’s an indoor greenhouse,” you corrected, leaning over the desk to jot something in a notebook. Your tone was matter-of-fact, but Crowe’s sigh carried the weight of words unsaid.

“What did I do wrong?” he asked suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You froze mid-sentence, pen hovering over the page. Slowly, you turned to face him, guilt flickering in your eyes like the max-out lamp on the desk beside you. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” you murmured, though the words felt hollow even as you spoke them.

Crowe stepped closer, the wooden floor creaking faintly beneath his shoes. “Then why does it feel like I did? Did I offend you somehow?”

“No,” you said quickly, your gaze darting away.

He pressed on, his voice firm but not unkind. “Then what is it? What’s going on with you?”

“I told you, nothing,” you snapped, irritation creeping into your tone as you turned back to your open notebook, pretending to be absorbed in its pages.

Crowe’s frown deepened. “Nothing?” he echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief. “Right now, it feels like you’d rather talk to these plants than me.”

You straightened, finally meeting his gaze with a sharp look. “I didn’t say that—”

He cut you off, his frustration spilling over. “You’ve been locked away in this room—”

“Indoor greenhouse,” you interrupted a touch of defensiveness in your voice.

“Fine. Indoor greenhouse,” he shot back. “While I’ve been searching for you all over campus, worried out of my mind. Do you have any idea what went through my head? I thought something had happened to you. I was this close to filing a missing person report—hell, I almost called the police.”

His words landed heavily, the rawness in his voice stopping you in your tracks.

“Why?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“What do you mean why?” he countered, his confusion evident.

“Why do you care?” Your voice cracked slightly, though you tried to mask it with a pointed edge. “I’m perfectly fine, Crowe. Or should I say Jericho Ichabod—known for being a pain in the ass who doesn’t know when to leave me alone…”

You trailed off, avoiding his gaze as silence settled between you like a heavy fog. For a moment, all that filled the room was the rhythmic drip of condensation falling onto a metal tray, a haunting reminder of the tension lingering between you both.

Crowe’s jaw tightened, his silhouette imposing against the faint glow of the lamp. Yet his eyes, usually so sharp and unreadable, softened with an intensity that made your heartache. “I care,” he said quietly, each word deliberate and weighted with emotion. “Because you matter to me. More than you seem to realize.”

The words hit you like a jolt, your hand instinctively seeking the edge of the desk for support. The rhythm of your hands tending to the plants—the careful snip of pruning shears, the gentle brushing of leaves—had always been your refuge, your shield. Now, it felt paper-thin against the storm of emotions his words unleashed.

You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, not yet.

Instead, you turned back to the orchid in front of you, its delicate white petals trembling faintly in the stagnant air. Perhaps its quiet, fragile beauty could offer you the clarity you desperately needed.

"Okay. You found me. Now you can leave. Satisfied?" Your voice was firm, but the undercurrent of vulnerability was unmistakable.

Crowe didn’t flinch at your sharpness. Instead, he took a measured step closer, his gaze never wavering. He could see through you—through the tension in your shoulders, the way your fingers gripped the desk’s edge as if it could anchor you, and the faint tremor in your voice. Every detail told him more than your words ever could.

“Don’t push me away,” he said, his tone resolute as he closed the distance between you. There was no room for argument in his voice, no hesitation in his movements.

You let out an exasperated sigh, your free hand rising to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Oh, for fuck’s sake…” you muttered, exhaustion creeping into your voice.

“Why do you always have to be so stubborn?” you snapped, the frustration breaking through as your body trembled faintly from a volatile mix of fear, fatigue, and something you didn’t want to name. Your gaze locked on him, irritation sparking in your eyes, but only for a moment. Something softened—just enough for him to catch it.

Crowe’s sharp eyes didn’t miss the change, no matter how subtle. He was used to your fiery tone, your biting words, and the walls you built so meticulously. But this? This was different. There was a crack in your armor, a vulnerability he hadn’t seen before—or maybe hadn’t allowed himself to see.

A crooked smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “I’ve always been good at reading you. I was just too stubborn to notice.”

A scoff escaped your lips, and you tried to glare at him, but the sight of his infuriatingly smug smirk only fueled your irritation. “Oh, spare me that look,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you turned back to the potted plant. “You sound so cocky right now. It’s irritating, you know that, right?”

Crowe let out a deep sigh, his shoulders relaxing just slightly though the tension lingered in his stance. Despite the sharpness of your words, his expression softened, a flicker of vulnerability betraying his resolve. His gaze held yours, unwavering and searching. “What’s irritating,” he began, his voice low and threaded with something almost pleading, “is how you bury yourself in these plants and shut everyone out.”

His eyes flicked toward the sprawling greenery that surrounded you as if accusing them of stealing your attention. “You’d rather lose yourself in them than face what’s right in front of you.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, but you refused to let them settle. Your instinct was to flee, to escape the tightening web of emotions he was weaving. Turning slightly, you made a move to step away, your eyes darting toward the shelves of plants that lined the room, hoping for some distraction to anchor you.

But Crowe was quicker.

With a sudden, fluid motion, he shifted into your path, his body a deliberate barrier, solid and immovable. The swiftness of his actions left you no room to maneuver. You took a reflexive step back, only to feel the cold edge of the desk press into your lower back.

Crowe loomed closer, his presence suffocating in its intensity. His hands came down on either side of you, palms flat against the desk, framing you with an authority that made escape impossible. The subtle tension in his arms betrayed his restraint, his effort to control the storm beneath his calm exterior. His proximity brought the faint scent of rain and earth, grounding and disarming all at once. His breath was steady, but the fire in his eyes made your pulse quicken.

“Stop walking away from me,” he said, his voice quiet but unyielding. His proximity was overwhelming, the heat of his presence wrapping around you like a vice.

Your heart pounded as you met his gaze, the storm in his eyes mirroring your own. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?” you whispered, though the words lacked conviction.

“Because you matter,” he said again, softer this time but no less intense. "And I'm not going anywhere until you believe it."

“I do not want you.” Your voice was sharp, trembling with restrained anger. “Just leave, please.”

You stood firm, glaring at Crowe, yet your body betrayed your nerves—hands clenched into fists, nails biting into your palms. He remained rooted in place, his tall frame looming over you, the dim light casting sharp angles across his face. His presence was suffocating, an immovable barrier that trapped you against the desk behind you.

“No. I will not. Please, just talk to me,” Crowe’s voice was low but resolute, carrying the weight of someone who wasn’t going to let this moment slip away. His tone was steady, like a calm storm brewing beneath the surface. “Whatever it is… you don’t have to hide it from me. I’m here for you.”

The sincerity in his words made your breath hitch, your carefully built walls trembling under the force of his presence. You took a shaky breath, your resolve faltering. “Jericho—”

He cut you off, moving closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can’t just force me away,” he said firmly, his tone unwavering. The distance between you seemed to vanish in an instant, and his proximity felt suffocating, but not in the way you expected. It wasn’t fear or frustration—it was the sharp, overwhelming realization that he saw through you.

Your lips parted, searching for words that refused to come. “Please, Jericho,” you murmured, your voice breaking as the tension between you coiled tighter, threatening to snap.

He leaned in slowly, his movements deliberate and careful, as though he knew he was treading on fragile ground. His head dipped until his face was only inches from yours. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, and his gaze burned with a fierce determination that left you feeling utterly exposed, as though every unspoken thought and hidden feeling you harbored was now laid bare before him.

“I won’t let you push me away,” he murmured, his voice soft but laced with steel. His hand rose, hesitating for a moment before brushing against your cheek, his touch featherlight. His fingers trailed along your jawline with a gentleness that sent a shiver through you. It wasn’t just his touch—it was the way he looked at you like he was piecing together something he had only just started to understand.

Your instinct was to retreat, to shut him out like you always had, but you couldn’t move. You were caught, your body betraying you as your heart raced and your mind screamed at you to say something.

“I’m far too busy for this—” you stammered, grasping at the only excuse you could find. But even as the words left your lips, you knew how weak they sounded, how unconvincing. They were a shield made of glass, and Crowe saw straight through it.

His expression softened, but his determination remained unshaken. “Do you love me?” he asked suddenly, his voice quiet but cutting through the air like a knife. The question left you frozen, your chest tightening as if the world had stopped spinning.

You stared at him, your mind racing, but there was nowhere to hide. His gaze held yours, unyielding, and in that moment, you knew he had already figured it out.

He wasn’t asking because he didn’t know—he was asking because he wanted you to say it.

“Jericho…” you whispered, his name barely audible as it escaped your lips. You tried to look away, but his hand cupped your cheek gently, guiding you back to face him.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said softly, his tone impossibly tender, but there was a gravity to his words that made your throat tighten. “I need to hear it. From you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of his question suffocating yet electrifying. And as you stared into his eyes, so full of quiet intensity, you realized there was no way out—only through.

He was so close, too close.

The warmth of his touch sent an involuntary shiver coursing through your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His voice, low and edged with a weight you couldn’t quite place, wrapped around you, constricting your thoughts. The question hung in the air like a thunderclap, reverberating in the space between you and him, stealing the breath from your lungs.

The indoor greenhouse seemed to shrink, the walls pressing inward as the gravity of his words settled over you. Your heart stuttered, then raced, pounding against your ribs with a force that made your chest ache. The air grew dense, thick with the kind of tension that threatened to pull you under, to drown you in its unrelenting grasp.

"That's—why would��How—" The words stumbled out of you, clumsy and fractured, like they were trying to claw their way past the rising storm inside your mind. But they faltered, leaving you grasping at nothing, caught in a silence that felt deafening.

You stared up at him, eyes wide and searching, your mind blank and racing all at once. You were frozen, caught like a deer in headlights, powerless under the weight of his gaze.

“Jericho—” you started, but your voice faltered, barely a whisper, your plea cut short as his own words sliced through the air.

“Do you love me?” he asked again, this time softer, yet somehow more insistent, like he was peeling back a layer of armor you didn’t realize you were wearing.

The world seemed to tilt, the ground beneath you unsteady as his question echoed in your ears. Your breath hitched, catching somewhere in your throat as the air in your lungs grew impossibly thin. Your heart hammered wildly, a chaotic rhythm that you were certain he could feel in the charged space between you.

You wanted to look away, to break free from the intensity of his gaze, but you couldn’t. His eyes held you captive, locking you in place, stripping you bare of pretense, and leaving you exposed. The words trembled on the edge of your lips, aching to escape, but you pressed them back, swallowing them down with a trembling resolve.

Not yet. Not now.

Not when you weren’t even sure yourself.

"Jericho, please stop." The words fell from your lips, fragile and unsteady, betraying the vulnerability you’d fought so hard to keep hidden. You hated how your voice trembled, how it quaked under the weight of your emotions.

His expression shifted, the faintest flicker of hurt flashing across his features before his voice came, steady yet raw, cutting through the silence like a blade.

“Is it because you don’t believe I can love you?” Crowe asked, his tone carrying quiet desperation, as though the question itself cost him something to voice. The words hit you like a blow, unraveling the fragile threads of composure you’d clung to. His presence was suffocating, his question heavy with a truth you weren’t ready to confront.

“Because I love you,” Crowe began, his voice trembling slightly, raw with sincerity. “I love you so much that I’ll do as you wish. If you don’t love me, all you have to do is say it. Say the words, and I’ll leave you alone. I’ll go home and pretend this never happened—for your sake, not mine. I will do that for you.” His voice cracked, but he pressed on, his gaze locked on yours, unwavering. “But first, you have to say it. You have to tell me you don’t love me.”

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, pressing against your chest like an unbearable burden.

“You have to tell me I’m a horrible friend,” Crowe continued, his tone growing more desperate. “Call me out of my name, say anything to show you don’t love me. Please—just say it.”

His plea echoed in the silence, raw and unfiltered. The two of you stood frozen, your eyes locked in an exchange that said more than words ever could.

For a mere second, your gaze locked onto Crowe’s, your mind spiraling into chaos. Thoughts crashed and tangled in your head, an unrelenting storm you couldn’t silence. Your heart clenched, each agonizing beat echoing through your chest like a dull, relentless ache. Tears brimmed in your eyes, threatening to spill, blurring your vision. But they couldn’t obscure the pain carved into his face—the rawness, the unguarded ache that mirrored your own.

Your throat tightened as emotions warred within you. You wanted to shout at him—to scream that he was a fool, reckless and naïve for loving you, for entrusting his heart so willingly into hands you weren’t sure could hold it. A bitter part of you itched to turn and walk away, to put an insurmountable distance between you, to bury this moment so deeply in your memory that it would never have the power to resurface.

And yet... his face. That look.

It stopped you cold.

His dark skin seemed to glow under the dim light, his deep blue eyes shimmering with an unspoken plea. The loose braid draped over his right shoulder swayed slightly as he shifted, and a few wayward strands framed his face, carelessly tucked behind his ear but now slipping free to shadow his gaze. He stood just inches from you, head tilted downward, his presence overwhelming in its intimacy.

It shattered you.

The vulnerability in his expression, the quiet desperation painted across his features, and the faint tremor in his breath pulled at you, unraveling every thought of escape. His hope, fragile yet unyielding, clung to you like a lifeline, binding your feet to the ground.

Your hand rose instinctively, trembling as it hovered in the space between you. Hesitation held you captive for a moment longer before you closed the gap, your palm pressing gently against his chest.

Beneath your touch, you felt it—his heart.

It beat unevenly, a raw and unsteady rhythm, a testament to the weight of the moment. That rhythm echoed the truth of what he had laid bare before you, fragile and precious as if daring you to break it.

And you, stood there, caught in a fragile silence, suspended between everything you wanted to say and everything you feared to admit. Your voice, when it came, was soft, fractured, barely more than a whisper. “...I can’t.”

The words slipped from your lips, fragile and small, but they carried the weight of everything you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

Crowe’s breath hitched, his entire frame trembling under your touch. The silence between you deepened, heavy with the unspoken truth, and the tears that finally spilled down your cheeks mirrored the storm raging inside you.

He took your trembling hand in his, his thumb brushing delicately over your knuckles in slow, comforting circles. The warmth of his touch was steady, but his heart hammered in his chest, betraying the calm façade he was trying to maintain. The words you had spoken hung heavy in the air, their weight pressing down on him.

“…you can’t?” His voice was soft, and gentle, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile moment between you. Yet, there was a quiet desperation in his tone, an unspoken plea for clarity, for something to hold on to amidst the confusion.

Your eyes fluttered shut, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. It burned with a mixture of pain, hope, and an emotion you couldn’t name—something you couldn’t allow yourself to name. Your entire body trembled, caught in a storm of emotions too overwhelming to contain.

A shaky breath slipped past your lips, your chest rising and falling unevenly. Your free hand curled into the fabric of his shirt, clutching it as though it were the only thing anchoring you to reality. The weight of your unsaid words felt unbearable, pressing against your throat, yet when you finally spoke, your voice was no more than a whisper.

“I’m not what you want,” you admitted, each word laced with anguish. “You don’t wish for a life with me. I see it in the way you look past me... in the things you don’t say.”

His brows furrowed, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. The silence stretched between you, broken only by the unsteady rhythm of your breathing.

“I didn’t care to tell you,” you continued, your voice trembling with raw emotion. “Where we were... what we’ve shared... it’s enough to show. Isn’t it?”

Your grip on his shirt tightened as if holding on might keep your heart from breaking apart. “I don’t...” The words caught in your throat, suffocating you with their weight. You faltered, unable to finish. Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to fall, as the vulnerability you’d fought so hard to suppress came pouring through the cracks in your resolve.

Crowe’s heart clenched painfully with every word you spoke, each syllable carving deep into his soul. The sight of you so conflicted, so hurt, was unbearable. It was as if the weight of your pain had reached out and wrapped itself around his chest, squeezing tightly until he could scarcely breathe.

“That’s not true…” he said, his voice soft but unyielding. The gentle firmness of his tone carried a quiet desperation, a plea hidden beneath his words. His fingers reached out, trembling ever so slightly, as he cupped your chin. His touch was tender like he feared you might shatter under his hand. Slowly, he guided your gaze to meet his, needing you to see the depth of his sincerity. His own eyes, usually so steady, now brimmed with a mixture of determination and vulnerability.

“I do want a future with you,” he said, his voice cracking ever so faintly, betraying the storm of emotions swirling just beneath his carefully composed exterior. His hands trembled slightly, fingers curling into fists at his sides as if bracing himself against an unseen force. “I don’t care where we are, as long as it’s with you.”

His gaze faltered for a heartbeat, his lashes lowering as he drew in a deep, shuddering breath. The weight of the words he was about to utter seemed to press down on him like an anchor, pulling him deeper into the vulnerability he had tried so hard to avoid. Lifting his eyes again, he locked onto yours with a piercing intensity, the oceanic blue depths searching your face for a flicker of reassurance, of hope, anything that might ease the ache of uncertainty in his chest.

“But I need to know…” His voice cracked, trembling as if it might break under the weight of the question. “Do you want a future with me?”

The air between you thickened, heavy with the tension of unspoken fears and fragile truths. For a moment, the world seemed to pause. Even the faint rustle of the wind outside stilled, as though the universe itself held its breath, waiting for your answer. His eyes—vulnerable, pleading—bore into yours, searching desperately for something he couldn’t bring himself to articulate. His jaw tightened as he swallowed hard, a muscle feathering in his cheek, betraying the storm within.

And then it broke.

“I do! I love you!” The words tore from you, raw and unrestrained, your voice shaking with the force of emotions you could no longer contain. Your hands flew to your face, trembling as tears spilled over your cheeks in hot, stinging rivers. Each tear carried the weight of all you had suppressed—the love too overwhelming to admit, the fear of losing him, the doubts you had wrestled with in the quiet hours of the night.

Your chest heaved with each breath, a desperate attempt to steady yourself as you took a trembling step closer. “I’ve always wanted to be with…” you sobbed, your voice cracking with the vulnerability you had fought so hard to keep hidden. The admission felt like tearing down walls you had spent years building, leaving you exposed, bare, and utterly honest.

Crowe’s breath caught, his chest tightening at the sight of you unraveling. He gently cradled your face, his thumb brushing away the hot tears as they fell, his heart torn between elation and heartbreak. He’d longed to hear those words, but seeing you like this—so broken, so unsure—left him feeling utterly helpless.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, enveloping you in a fierce embrace. His arms wrapped around you like a shield, as if he could hold you together with sheer will alone. His lips pressed softly against your hair as he murmured, “I’m yours,” his voice steady now, “Always.”

But your body stiffened against him, and you pushed him away, your touch hesitant, almost apologetic. The distance you forced between you felt like a knife twisting in his chest.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. The word was small and quiet, but it carried the weight of a storm. “I don’t want you here with me.” Your voice wavered, each word like glass splintering in your throat. “I… I’m not worth it, Jericho. I never was, and I never will be.”

You looked away, your hands trembling as you struggled to explain. “You and I… we’re too different. Your life—it’s so full of light. And me? I’m just… I’m a shadow. A burden. Every day, you’re so kind, and so patient, and I don’t know why. What do you even see in me? What do you want from me?”

Crowe’s heart broke into pieces at your words, the cracks spreading like ice on a frozen lake. His hands shot out to grip your arms firmly but gently, grounding you as he fought to steady his voice.

“How can you say that?!” he exclaimed, his tone carrying a sharp edge of pain. His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he searched your face, desperate to make you see what he saw. “You are worth everything to me! Everything.”

His grip tightened, not to restrain, but to hold you steady, as if he feared you might slip away entirely. “I don’t want anything from you. I never have. I just want you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

His voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath, trying to push down the swell of frustration and sadness that threatened to consume him. “Why do you think you’re a burden to me? Don’t you see? You’re not. You never were. You’re my world. And if I have to spend every single day proving that to you, I will. But please…” His voice softened, his forehead resting against yours. “Please don’t push me away.”

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by his words, by the intensity of his gaze, by the unwavering devotion in his voice.

For the first time, you let yourself feel the enormity of his love—a love that terrified you as much as it comforted you. "Stop it," you whispered, but your voice trembled, barely a breath against the thick air that seemed to surround you both.

The tears came fast, hot, and uncontrollable, burning as they streaked down your face. You tried to pull away, to escape the overwhelming rush of emotions flooding you—emotions you couldn’t bear to face.

Why was this happening? Why couldn't he just leave you alone?

You didn’t want to look at him anymore. The pain in your chest tightened, a suffocating weight that threatened to drown you. You didn't want to hear him confess how he felt, didn't want to let yourself believe for even a second that it could be real. You couldn’t afford to give yourself any false hope, not now.

“It’s... I—” Your voice cracked, faltering as the words tangled in your throat. It was as if everything inside you was shattering, and no matter how hard you tried to hold it together, it all slipped through your fingers.

You couldn’t think.

You couldn’t breathe.

And you couldn’t say what needed to be said, not when every part of you screamed to get away from him, to make him leave. Make him stop looking at you like that, as if you mattered as if you weren't just a burden.

He could see it in your eyes—the desperation, the fear, the overwhelming need to push him away. And yet, despite every effort you made, he didn’t understand.

Why couldn’t you see?

He refused to let go of your arms, his grip tightening with a gentle yet unyielding force that pulled you closer until your bodies were pressed together in the most intimate way possible. He refused to let you turn away, refusing to let you hide from him.

“No,” he murmured, his voice soft but unwavering, searching your face, his eyes piercing through the walls you’d built around yourself. “Tell me, why do you think you’re a burden to me...?” His voice softened, yet there was a quiet strength in it as if he needed you to hear this, to understand that this wasn’t just about him—this was about you, too.

You fought desperately to keep the sobs from breaking free, but with each word he spoke, your resolve unraveled, crumbling into a thousand fragile pieces. It felt unfair—the rawness of what he was making you confront, the painful truths he was forcing you to voice, truths you’d hidden deep inside, locked away where no one could see them.

The weight of everything pressing down on you became too much, and the tears finally fell, unbidden and unchecked. They streaked down your face, each one like a silent confession, and the words that followed were sharp, jagged, and full of the hurt you’d buried for so long.

"I...I’m always too much. I’m...I’m not enough... That’s all I’ve ever been."

He couldn’t understand why you believed it—why you thought you were too much when all he saw was someone who was everything. But the anguish in your voice told him this was no simple admission; this was a revelation, raw and real. Without hesitation, he pulled you closer, his arms unyielding, encircling you in a protective embrace. His chest pressed against your trembling body, his warmth a stark contrast to the coldness you felt inside.

"You’re never too much," he said, his voice thick with conviction, with a fire that burned through the pain. "You’re always more than enough."

He rested his chin on your head, the words settling between you both like a fragile promise, as he felt the weight of your tears soaking into his shirt, your body shaking with the intensity of your emotions.

In his arms, you felt exposed, your vulnerability laid bare in a way that terrified you. Every tremor in your body was a reminder of how small and helpless you felt, and it made you want to pull away. But Crowe held you tight, his embrace a lifeline that both soothed and shattered your heart.

You buried your face against his chest, unable to stop the flood of emotion, your voice barely a whisper as you spoke through your tears.

"You’re an idiot," you choked out, your words soaked in sorrow, self-doubt, and shame.

Crowe let out a soft, almost tender chuckle, his fingers gently threading through your hair as he held you even closer. "Maybe I am an idiot," he murmured, the weight of your pain heavy in his words. "But I’m an idiot in love with you."

His confession hung in the air, and your heart skipped, the words reverberating in your mind like a distant echo, soft and haunting.

In love with you...

It was a truth that seemed too unreal to accept, but your heart fluttered painfully in your chest, trapped by the weight of it. It felt as though it were desperately trying to break free, like a bird clawing at the bars of its cage, yearning to take flight but held back by everything you’d ever believed about yourself.

And yet, in his arms, something shifted. The ache didn’t vanish, but it softened, mingling with a strange, bittersweet warmth—hope and despair tangled together, impossible to untangle.

With a shuddering breath, you clung to Crowe, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, desperate for some tangible connection that would ground you, that would prove the words he spoke were more than just fleeting assurances. You needed to believe them, to feel the truth in them like a lifeline, even if every part of you doubted your worth.

"Why…?" you whispered, your voice barely audible as the vulnerability in your tone betrayed the fortress you’d built around your emotions. It quivered, heavy with a question you had long tried to suppress. "Why are you even in love with me...?"

The air seemed to hold its breath.

He didn’t hesitate, not for a second. His response wasn’t in words—at least, not at first. Instead, it was in the way his hands slid with unspoken reverence along your thighs, warm and deliberate, his touch leaving a trail of electricity that ignited every nerve in its path. His fingers curled slightly, anchoring you to him, as if you might disappear if he let go.

He leaned in closer—closer than you thought possible, his movements smooth and deliberate, as though every inch he bridged between you had been planned in his mind a thousand times before. The faintest brush of his breath ghosted against your cheek, and then your lips, leaving you breathless before he even touched you.

With a soft but insistent motion, he lifted you onto the edge of the desk, the cool surface grounding you amidst the rising storm inside. His hands remained steady, one firm at the curve of your waist, the other lingering on your thigh, his thumb tracing gentle circles that felt almost reverent. The act wasn’t rushed, nor hesitant—it was as though he were grounding himself, tethering both of you in this shared moment.

Your faces aligned, the closeness so profound you could see every detail in his expression—the way his eyes held yours, unwavering, filled with something raw and consuming. That intensity rooted you in place, stealing the air from your lungs and replacing it with the weight of his longing.

"Because," he finally murmured, his voice low and full of conviction, "loving you isn’t a choice. It’s like breathing—unconscious, instinctual, something I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to."

The words hit you like a tidal wave, and as his lips hovered millimeters from yours, “There are so many reasons I love you..." His voice was soft, a low murmur that seemed to echo in the silence between you.

His sincerity cut through the space, wrapping around you like a warm embrace. "You're so kind, so gentle... even the parts of you try to hide from everyone else."

Your chest tightened, every word he spoke seemed to reach deeper, stripping away the layers of doubt and fear you had built up over the years. But there was more—there was so much more that you weren’t prepared to hear.

He paused, his breath catching, and for a moment, it seemed like the weight of his emotions almost took him off guard. He exhaled slowly, his words coming out, "You're beautiful, smart, strong... and," he hesitated for a beat, the vulnerability in his eyes making your heartache. "From the moment I saw you trying to protect yourself, even when it looked like everything was going against you... when those guys tried to hurt you, and I ran in, only to get beat up myself—but the way you smiled after... after you had avoided me for so long... I realized then that I had fallen for you. Desperately. I love you more than I can say."

His confession knocked the breath from your lungs. Your heart stuttered in your chest, your mind reeling with the intensity of his words. He had seen that moment—the one you thought you could bury forever. The moment when you’d been cornered, vulnerable, and yet, somehow, you found the courage to stand your ground.

He had seen it all, no matter how long you avoid him, and still, he loves you.

Tears welled in your eyes, but they fell freely now, no longer hidden behind the walls you’d spent so long building. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, the emotional tidal wave crashing through you, leaving you breathless. Your hands remained clutching his shirt as if letting go would mean losing this feeling, this unspoken truth you didn’t know you needed.

"And my heart calls for your name. Every day…" you mumbled, your voice trembling under the weight of emotions you’d tried to suppress for what felt like forever. "No matter how many times I tried to stop it, it didn’t listen to me."

Crowe tilted his head slightly, his gaze softening as it met yours, though worry flickered at the edges. His lips curled into that familiar, dumb smile, the one that always seemed to deflect his deeper emotions. But his voice betrayed him, low and tinged with a concern that sent your stomach into knots. "If that's true, then why have you been avoiding me?"

The space between you was electric, the kind of silence that pulled at your chest, threatening to unravel you completely. You bit your lip, hesitating as your fingers brushed against the leaves of a nearby plant—something to ground you amidst the chaos inside. When you finally spoke, the words barely rose above the suffocating warmth of the greenhouse. "I didn’t know what to say."

His brows drew together, his smile faltering into something more genuine, more raw. "What do you mean? You’ve never had trouble talking to me before," he said, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that made your chest ache.

You shook your head slowly, forcing yourself to meet his gaze this time, even though it felt like standing at the edge of a cliff. "It’s different now," you admitted, your voice breaking slightly.

Crowe’s eyes searched yours, desperate to understand. "What’s different?"

You took a shaky breath, the humid air thick in your lungs as though the weight of the moment mirrored the dense foliage surrounding you. His presence was overwhelming—the faint scent of his cologne, the way his fingers fidgeted as if resisting the urge to reach out to you.

It all only made it harder to speak, but you forced the words out anyway, your voice fragile, each syllable trembling with the weight of unspoken truths.

"Because I…" you began, swallowing hard. "I don’t want to put you in a position where you feel like you owe me something. You’ve always been so… you. Full of ambition, full of drive, building these milestones for yourself that are so much bigger than anything I could ever imagine for me. I don’t want to… I don’t want to be something you’re burdened by." The confession tumbled out like rocks, sharp and heavy, scraping against your throat.

Crowe’s eyes softened, his dumb smile fading into something far more sincere. "A burden?" he echoed, as though the very thought was absurd. Slowly, he reached out, his hand hovering for just a moment before brushing against yours. "You think… that’s what you are to me?"

You shook your head quickly, even as your eyes burned with the threat of tears. "I’m scared, Crowe. Scared that one day, you’ll look at me and realize you deserve someone who doesn’t second-guess everything. Someone who can keep up with you."

He leaned even closer, his forehead nearly brushing yours. "You don’t get it, do you?" he murmured, his voice low and earnest. "Every time I look at you, I don’t see a burden. I see someone I want to protect, someone I want to be around. Even when you overwork yourself, even when you’re too hard on yourself—hell, especially then."

His words made your chest tighten, your heart pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. "But why? Why do you care so much? I don’t understand what I’ve done to deserve that."

Crowe chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief, and that dumb, lopsided smile returned. "You don’t have to do anything to deserve it. It’s just you. And you’re worth every second of it."

You swallowed hard, his words sinking into your chest like a stone dropped into deep water. His gaze never wavered, holding you captive in its intensity. Slowly, he stepped closer, each movement deliberate, as if he were drawn by an unseen force he could no longer resist. His hand, strong and steady, found yours, his fingers curling fully around your own in a gesture so simple yet so profound.

“And for the record,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate in the very air between you, “you’re the reason I’ve been able to keep going. So stop thinking I’m looking out for you because I feel like I have to. I’m looking out for you because…” His words trailed off for a heartbeat, his breath brushing your skin, before he finished with a raw vulnerability that left no room for doubt. “...you’re my reason.”

The world seemed to pause, the weight of his confession pressing against you like the tide before it crashed to shore.

You barely had time to process it before he closed the remaining distance. His lips met yours in a rush of fervent need and quiet tenderness, a perfect contradiction that stole the breath from your lungs. The kiss was a confession in itself, fierce in its certainty yet impossibly gentle, as though he feared you might slip away if he wasn’t careful.

His hands moved, one sliding up to cup the curve of your jaw, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, the other resting firmly at the small of your back, pulling you closer still. His touch was unyielding yet reverent like a vow made flesh. In that instant, all the doubts and fears you’d carried crumbled, falling away like ash in the wind.

His kiss whispered truths your heart had longed to believe: that you were wanted, needed—not out of duty or pity, but for exactly who you were.

When the kiss finally broke, it wasn’t an ending but a breath—a moment to steady the hurricane of emotions swirling between you. Your lips tingled, your skin alight with the memory of his touch, and your heart felt as if it might burst from the sheer intensity of it all. A laugh bubbled up unbidden, light, and full of wonder, even as tears clung to your lashes, threatening to spill. This time, they weren’t born of sadness but of something brighter, fuller, more beautiful than words could hold.

Crowe’s forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the intimate space you now shared. His eyes searched yours, unguarded, their depths brimming with affection so profound it made your chest ache.

You closed your eyes, allowing the warmth of his presence to wash over you, grounding you, anchoring you. “I wanted to tell you that I was afraid... afraid of being rejected,” you whispered, barely audible, your voice shaky but full of truth. “But I still wanted you to know." The words felt like a release, as though admitting them was finally freeing you from the weight that had been so familiar.

“This... this burden, of never feeling perfect enough... it’s been with me my whole life.” The words escaped in a near whisper, barely audible, but Crowe caught them. He stood so close that his presence felt like a storm, powerful and inescapable, the intensity in his gaze pinning you in place.

His hand lifted with deliberate slowness as if savoring the space between you before his fingers brushed against your cheek. The warmth of his touch was gentle but firm, commanding your attention in a way that made your heart stutter.

He tilted your chin upward, his thumb tracing the edge of your jaw as his eyes locked with yours.

“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, vibrating with an emotion that reached into your very core. You couldn’t look away, trapped by the sincerity and hunger that burned in his deep blue eyes. “You’re perfect to me. All of you—the fears, the flaws, the cracks you think make you weak. They’re everything I want. Everything I need.”

Your lips parted, the protest forming on your tongue—words meant to warn him, to remind him of the risks of being with you—but they never found the air. He leaned in, his forehead just brushing yours, his breath warm and intoxicating as his lips hovered over yours.

“…The door’s locked,” he whispered, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth, “and there aren’t any cameras in here. No one’s going to interrupt us.”

The promise in his words hung heavy, a shield against the world outside. But his nearness, his unrelenting presence, stole the air from your lungs. His lips found your neck with an aching tenderness, trailing a line of fire across your skin that left you trembling. His hands slid to your waist, unyielding, guiding you backward until the desk’s edge pressed against the backs of your thighs.

“Crowe,” you breathed, your hands resting against his chest, trembling in the heat of the moment, a last, fragile barrier against the pull between you. “We can’t—”

He cut you off with a kiss, gentle at first, teasing, as if tasting the hesitation in your words. His lips were soft, coaxing, but with a hunger that grew the instant your resistance faltered. The kiss deepened, and the world seemed to tilt, the gravity of him drawing you in with an undeniable force.

When he finally pulled back, his lips brushing against yours with each word, his voice was a low, quiet storm, vibrating through your senses.

“We can,” he whispered, his breath warm and intoxicating against your skin. His hands moved to your hips, firm and confident, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. His movements were fluid, a control that felt almost predatory, but also purposeful, as if he knew exactly what you needed before you did.

"Just this once, please—let me show you," he murmured, his words a promise, a challenge. His tone was unwavering, leaving no room for doubt.

He carried you, each step deliberate, each movement smooth and unhurried, like a predator securing its prey—except this felt different. This wasn’t a conquest; it was an invitation, of surrender and longing. As he set you down on the couch, the soft cushion beneath you was a stark contrast to the heat of his body, the tension that radiated off him like an electric charge.

You leaned back into the plush fabric, the weight of his presence pressing against your senses, his fingers moving with practiced precision, undoing the buttons of his vest one by one, each motion slow, deliberate. He let the clothing fall to the floor, the sound of it landing barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

The air between you thickened with anticipation, the pull between you undeniable, each movement a promise, a slow unraveling of everything you had thought was impossible. And yet, here you were, caught in the storm of him, your breath quickening, the crowd of your desires finally, relentlessly, yearning for his touch.

The sound of his long-sleeved shirt buttons coming undone echoed in the stillness of the greenhouse, each one a deliberate step toward vulnerability. His shirt hung open, revealing the faint lines of muscle and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He stood before you, unguarded, his raw vulnerability on display.

His gaze bore into yours, dark and intense, as if every unspoken word between you had finally come to life. "You don't know how long I've dreamed of this," Crowe murmured, his voice thick with yearning, each syllable laced with a deep hunger for the moment that had been building between you both. "To be here with you, to love you without restraint—no games, no walls, just this, just us."

The weight of his words washed over you, the raw emotion in his voice striking a chord deep within. You could feel the air crackling with something undeniable, something that had been brewing for longer than either of you had admitted. His proximity, the warmth of his body pressing against yours, made it hard to breathe. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, every beat erratic, every second stretching between the two of you.

His lips crashed against yours once more, but this time it wasn’t just a kiss—it was a release. Each movement, every brush of his lips against yours, was a confession, a surrender of everything he had kept locked away. His mouth moved with a fervor that left you breathless, as though he was desperate to pour out everything he had been holding inside.

His hand slid slowly up your thigh, warm and sure, sending an electric shock through your body. The touch was both possessive and gentle as if he was claiming you yet cherishing you all at once. He shifted slightly, tilting you back with an ease that made your pulse spike, deepening the kiss further, and pushing you to the edge of your control.

A sharp breath left your lips, your hands trembling as you placed them against his chest, trying to regain some semblance of space. "Crowe, we can't do this here," you whispered urgently, voice barely audible, but filled with a tension that threatened to break. You attempted to pull his hand away, but his grip only tightened, firm and unwavering, pulling you closer.

His eyes locked onto yours darkened with desire, yet there was something else there—a rawness, a vulnerability that you hadn't seen before.

"Don’t move," he commanded softly, yet there was a quiet power in his voice that made your heart race even more. His touch never faltered, never wavered. "Not now. Not when I’ve waited so long for you to say the truth.”

The weight of his words, coupled with the heat of his body against yours, held you in place—trapped, but not unwilling. Every inch of you ached with the yearning he had revealed, the long-suppressed need to be close to you, to love you, to finally let go of everything that had kept him distant.

His forehead rested softly against yours, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine as it brushed against your lips. Your senses were overwhelmed by the moment, your gaze drifting downward as the dim, ethereal light of the indoor greenhouse wrapped around him like a cloak.

Shadows danced across his dark brown skin, accentuating the depth of his features, and his deep blue eyes held you in an almost hypnotic gaze. His hair had come loose from its braid, falling around his face with a carefree messiness that made his presence feel all the more magnetic.

The undone buttons of his shirt revealed just enough of his toned chest, the closeness between you thick with an unspoken intensity.

His eyes briefly flicked down to your legs, lingering for a moment before he returned to meet your gaze. Without a word, he moved closer, gently parting your legs with a subtle gesture that spoke volumes of his intention.

"For you to not feel like a burden," he whispered, his voice a soft blend of desire and reassurance, "I need to show you, don't I?"

The words lingered between you, charged with emotion as he moved even closer, his body pressing against yours in a way that made your heart race.

"After tonight," he continued, his voice steady yet tender, "you'll never feel like that again."

His words, though simple, held a weight that made your breath catch, a quiet vow to erase every doubt and every insecurity that had ever haunted you.

· · ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── ·

#the kid at the back x reader #tkatb crowe #tkatb #the kid at the back crowe #crowe ichabod #crowe x reader #the kid at the back vn #jericho crowe ichabod #crowe x mc #tkatb angst #tkatb vn #jericho ichabod #the kid at the back jericho

261 notes · View notes

eand47 · 18 days ago

Text

Troublemaker

ONE SHOT - Portgas D Ace/Reader (female)

DESCRIPTION: Modern AU | High School - smut, fluff, slight angst

SUMMARY: You are known around school as quite the rebellious girl, who makes more of her statements by wearing high knee stockings which are against the school dress code. He is the new guy in school who always sits on the back of the class and every time he puts his glasses on you find it him extremely adorable. The problem is that he doesn't seem to want to socialize with anyone and you don't know how to approach him until one lucky day you get to become his project partner.

WARNINGS: english is not my first language, explicit language, explicit sexual content, NSFW, mentions of bullying, mentions of cannabis/weed, mentions of violence, mentions of death, lost of a parent, both characters as 19 years old, oral sex (f! receiving), nipple play (f! receiving), slight aggression, use of condom (as you should!!!), hints of depression, old-mindset and views teachers, MDNI

WORD COUNT: 20,5K

✰ masterlist ✰

NOTE: Thank you all for your patience ♡ I hope you enjoy this little modern au story of high school Ace and Reader. I want to point out that I HAVE NEVER EVER BEFORE WRITTEN A SMUT so please keep this in mind once you reach this point of the story. It was my first time so please bear with me as it was cringe and very challenging to write at the same time, but anyway haha. I hope that it is not that bad. Enjoy ♡

another thing to add - this one shot is a special one for my girl @3rtxaa as if it wasn’t for one of her posts of how she images real life Ace, the idea of it would have never been born, ly girly ♡ ♡ ♡

!ALSO PLEASE IF SOMEONE KNOW WHO IS THE ARTIST BEHIND THIS FANART OF ACE IN THE BANNER LET ME KNOW SO I CAN CREDIT THEM!

Autum is just around the corner, and it is time to get back to school. You can’t wait for this school year to finish and be done with high school once and for all. It is not like you have had the worst experiences in the past four years, but you are ready for something new and mostly to leave the pretentious school your parents have signed you in. You are desperate for something new and exciting. Your town isn’t small, quite the opposite, but you still want to move and live somewhere else after you graduate this year.

Parking your car in the parking lot of your school you let out a long sigh. ‘Same faces, same cases’ you thought to yourself. Grabbing your big bag full of text and notebooks, which you must now leave in your locker, from the back seat of your car, you hopped off and shut the door. After locking the car, you start making your way to school. Pulling your skirt down as you feel it raising up, you sigh annoyed once again. You have always hated school uniforms, and how unfair it is that girls must always wear skirts and the boys pants like you are in the 60s. At least the colors of it aren’t so bad – a dark royal blue with a blazer in the same color and a white shirt under it. You are always wearing over the knee stockings under it and not a full set of stockings, which has caused you troubles a few times. Some old-school teachers found this quite inappropriate, and it goes against the school dress code, but this hasn’t stopped you from wearing them again and again.

The school is known for being one of the most prestigious in town. And while you can disagree with how true this is, your parents’ biggest pride is that their daughter gets to study there. Which you never get because they are very laid-back parents who support you and your rebellious nature. You have wanted to move to a different one many times, but you never voiced it as you don’t want to disappoint them. But now it doesn’t matter as all you need to do is push through the next nine months. Taking a step inside the old but well-maintained building you make your way to your locker. Putting the code in the padlock you have, you unlocked it and quickly emptied your heavy bag in it. Before you close it, you pull your phone to check what class you are having first so you can grab the textbook you need.

“Literature.” Someone says behind you. You recognize the voice immediately and turn around.

“Thank you, I would be lost without you.” You reply as you wrap your arms around your best friend Robin. Pulling away from the hug you grab your literature textbook and close your locker as you and Robin start walking towards your class. You have been friends since the beginning of high school, from the first day of school you two click immediately. Since then, you have been unseparated, she is like the sister you have never got to get. This was the first summer where you both didn’t have enough time because of work to hang out every day but it was worth it as now you have enough saved money to spend on whatever your heart desired.

“How are you doing today, excited for the last first day of high school?” She giggles as she sees you expression.

“You better help me get through this year, because if we don’t go to the same university, I’m offing myself.” You joke with her, even though there is a bit of truth in what you say. Even if you both want to study for different programs you have made an agreement that you will still be at the same university. You aren’t one of the most social people to begin with despite your bubbly nature, so being in a totally new environment without your best friend will be like a living hell for you.

“Of course you will get through it, you have me after all.” She smiles and nudges your side as you enter your literature class. There aren’t many people here yet, but your eyes draft to the back of the room. On the last single desk is sitting a guy who you have never seen before. You and Robin take your seats in the middle of the room next to each other. Turning your head back you take another look at the guy over your shoulder. With one hand on the desk and the other on the windowsill with his body leaning on the back of the chair and manspreading his legs he looks quite tall. His dark raven black hair with messy curls falling freely around his frowned face which is turned to the window so you can only observe his side profile. His nose is straight, and his lips are full and somehow so alluring to your attention. Another thing that catches your attention is his freckles which thanks to the lighting you are able to notice even though he is two rows behind you. Turning your head slowly to Robin, who is scrolling on her phone, you nudge her with your elbow.

“Hey, Rob. Who is this guy on the back of the class?” You lean closer to her and whisper so only she can hear you. She raises her head from her phone and looks at the back of the class, squinting her eyes so she can take a better look at the guy.

“No, idea. Maybe he is the new guy. I heard some people from our year talking about having a new classmate.” Robin turns back to you with a shrug.

“I didn’t know we are having a new classmate.”

“Me, too. I found out today when I came, so it must be him.” She says and turns her attention back to her phone. You can’t stop but take another look at him. His position hasn’t changed but the moment you look at him, his eyes move and lock with yours. His stare is pierced, your eyes widen from embarrassment and quickly look away. Even for the ten seconds that you were able to see his face, he was handsome. You can’t remember the last time when a guy has had your interest so quickly by just his looks, but this one seems to have this effect on you.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the loud annoying laughter by no other but your least favorite person to exists in this school – Isuka. Rolling your eyes once you see her, you open your notebook and start drawing some doodles just so you don’t need to look at her. Taking her seat right next to you she brushes her ginger hair with the back of her hand and smirks.

“Hey, (Y/N). Robin.” She says and her dumb protégés – Lyla and Nora laugh along with her. You just side-eye her and say nothing. “I missed you, two. Especially you (Y/N), how were working as a lifeguard at the kid’s pool this summer? Did my daddy pay you good?” Isuka made fun of you in her typical arrogant tone with a fake smile on her face.

“He obviously didn’t pay good enough the nannies you had growing up.” You finally look at her and give her the same fake smile she is giving you. You have known Isuka since the start of high school and since day one she picked on you for whatever reason. It isn’t some kind of rivalry, sometimes her comments are pure bullying, but you have never let her affect you. The only time she almost got under your skin was when you caught her with your so-called ex-boyfriend making out by the pool at the graduation’s party a few months ago. You didn’t care so much about him and what he did as much as with whom he did it. But this is in the past now, you are more than glad that you don’t have to deal with this guy anymore, but still every time you think of it your blood boils only because of the disrespect this guy has caused you.

“Hm, be careful there, do I need to remind you who Derek choose?” She crosses her arms over her chest as she tries to irritate you more. Instead, you laugh out loud – does she really think that a guy like Derek is the prize?

“Isuka, if you think a guy like Derek is the goal, then I really pity you from the bottom of my heart.” You coo with face sympathy for her which leaves her mouth open. Robin starts giggling next to you. Isuka frowns with her eyebrows ready to say something, but the teacher comes in and the whole class goes silent. You haven’t noticed that everyone has arrived until now.

“You got her good this time.” Robin leans closer to you and whispers.

“I’m so sick and tired of this spoiled bitch.” You whine quietly only for Robin to hear you. She only nods with her head as the teacher starts to speak.

“As you all are aware, this year is the most important for you all, especially given the fact that one of your major exams is on English and literature. If I haven’t been strict enough with you till now, then this year will be totally different.” You can’t stop yourself from snorting and whispering to Robin while the teacher continues with her ‘welcome back’ speech.

“Yeah, it’s not like she has ever been nice to us at least once. Old wanna be Barbie.” Both you and Robin shared a quite laugher, but it is quickly interrupted by your teacher.

“Did I say something funny Miss (Y/L/N)?” The sixty something woman, with long thin blond hair and badly done makeup for her age looks stern at you as she waits for your response. “Care to share with the class?”

“I think I will keep this one for myself, Mrs. Kenet.” You half shrug with one shoulder while giving her a smile. The teacher only gives you a warning look before continuing.

“I don’t want to waste more time in meaningless talks so before we start, please the new student, stand up and introduce yourself.” Mrs. Kenet gestures to the guy in the back to stand and introduce himself with her face unpleased as always. Everyone turns their heads to the black-haired guy waiting for him to stand up. You are carefully observing him as he clears his throat and stands up.

“My name is Ace and I’m the new student, obviously.” His voice is low and raspy but still deep. Now as he stands up you are able to take a better look at him – his shirt isn’t properly tuck in his pants as the school demands and its sleeves are rolled which is another thing some teachers might complain about. Also, the tie that the guys are demanded to wear tightly around their necks is very loose which is going to cause him to receive a comment from our teacher immediately as she is one of the demanding ones. You move your eyes to where your teacher is standing, and you can see her already frowning over her book with all the students’ names in it.

“Mr. Portgas haven’t you read the schools guidebook about the dress code?” She asks as she shoots him with a very judgmental look.

“I did.” Ace replies, putting his hands in his pockets and shrugging as he doesn’t see the problem with his outfit. In his eyes he has done everything as it says in the stupid seventy-page school guidelines book he received two weeks ago, and his mom made sure he reads it. He is wearing the stupid school uniform and the suffocating tie around his neck, what more this old hag wants from him.

“I will ask once Mr. Portgas – tuck your shirt, roll down your sleeves and fix your tie.” Mrs. Kenet straitens her posture and crosses her arms over her chest as she starts taping with her finger on her forearm waiting for Ace to do what he is told. He bites the insides of his cheeks and clenches his jaw as he tries to not cause himself problems from the first day and the first class in the new school. After all he has promised his mother that he would behave… as much as he can. Rolling his sleeves down and tucking the front of the shirt in his pants he keeps his eyes on the old hag which is now on his list with teachers he will not stand. Fixing the tie last, he gives her a ‘are you happy now’ look to which Mrs. Kenet nods and lets him sit back down. Fighting the urge to roll his eyes at her, Ace unintentionally looks at you and your eyes lock once again. Why are you staring at him again? Does he have something on his face?

He overheard your interaction with the bratty girl earlier and thought it was funny. Though, he can’t help but notice that you are somewhat troublemaker yourself. The interaction with the bratty girl and then the teacher, you are not one of the amenable ones. On top of it, you checking him out doesn’t go unnoticed either. But Ace is planning to stay out of trouble this year, mainly because he has promised his mother, who had to move to entirely new city just because her son got expelled from his previous school for bad behavior. Still, he can’t move his eyes from (Y/N), if he catches your name correctly. As last time, you are the one who breaks the eye contact first and turns your attention to whatever the teacher is talking about. His eyes stay on you a little longer and draft lower on your body. White knee stockings with a little bow on the side – this isn’t very ‘dress code’ friendly, you should definitely get scold for this. ‘Troublemaker’ he thinks to himself as he opens his notebook and starts writing whatever Mrs. Kenet is writing on the board.

Squinting his eyes to see better, Ace sighs as it is pointless to do so, so he pulls his glasses case from his backpack and places them on the bridge of his nose. He hates them but lenses irritate his eyes way too much, so he must suffer with the glasses. The class finishes in forty minutes so the moment the bell rings Ace is one of the first students to get up and leave. You are getting up from your chair when you feel someone bumping into you accidentally.

“Shit, sorry.” The deep low voice behind you says. You don’t have much time to react as Ace, if you remember correctly his name, is already leaving the room. You follow him with your eyes as he leaves the room – he is definitely something, but what exactly you can’t pinpoint yet. But he is cute, especially with glasses on. He doesn’t give off the nerd vibe but there is this thing about him that tells you he is the type which prefers to be by themselves.

“Easy there.” You hear a mocking voice behind you. You turn around to meet with Isuka’s insolent smile. “I saw you eyeing the new guy, but if you think you have a chance with a guy like him, I really pity you from the bottom of my heart.” She repeats the exact same words you’ve told her earlier. Instead of giving her the satisfaction of offending you in any type of way, you just eye her from the top to bottom and snort out laughter. This causes her to stomp with her foot on the floor like a toddler. You and Robin are grabbing your stuffs to leave the room when Isuka’s annoying voice fills up the space. “Mrs. Kenet, (Y/N) is wearing again unappropriated stockings to school.” Isuka points her finger at you. Mrs. Kenet’s voice echoes through the room as she calls out your name.

“Miss (Y/L/N), how many times you must be told that these revealing cloths are prohibited in school.” Her whole face frowns and gets red from anger. “Don’t you have any dignity for yourself, after all this is a prestige school not some strip club.” She screams in your face. You glance at Isuka who is passing by you with her entourage while giving you dirty looks. “Listen, when I’m talking to you Miss (Y/L/N).”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Kenet, but in my defense, they are quite high and not revealing.” It is pointless to even try to defend yourself, as Mrs. Kenet won’t take your word for anything as she doesn’t like you in general; not only because you never listen and continue to wear your high knee stockings but because you always have something to say in your defense.

“I think you are begging for detention from the first day Miss (Y/L/N).” You are about to protest against her words when you feel Robin tugging you on the arm. Turning your head to her you see the way she is begging you to not get in trouble from the first day, so you just sigh. Lowering your head you murmured under your breath an apology. “I didn’t hear you Miss.”

“I said, I’m sorry and that I will go and change my stockings.”

“If I see you around the corridors today and you are still with these you will be staying after classes, you understand.” Her voice was stern and cold as aways.

“Yes, Mrs. Kenet I understand.” You reply and she lets you and Robin finally go as the bell for your next class rings. Walking as fast as possible, so you are not late for your next class, you are fuming. “This bitch Isuka if she didn’t say shit the old hag wasn’t going to notice anything.”

“I know, but also aren’t you tired of getting detentions for the same thing over and over again?” Robin is keeping your tempo as the biology classroom is on the other wing of the big school building so you two must cross almost half the school to reach it.

“Which side are you on?” You look at her with disbelief even though you know she has a point.

“Of course, yours. But getting detention every time about the same thing should ring some bell in your mind.” She giggles next to you as you make your way to the classroom. Walking in the room just a second before the second bell goes off to indicate that the class starts, the only desk available for you and Robin to take is the one in the front row. Both of you groan as you hate sitting in the front row, but you have no choice as your teacher walks into class and tells you to sit down. Before you sit down you see Isuka sitting next to the new guy, who seems pretty uninterested in the surroundings around him.

Ace notices you, looking in his direction before you sit down at your desk. He also notices the way your face grimaces when you and your friend realize you have to take the front row desk, but he does understand your reaction as he will never be caught sitting in any other row but the last. Ace is the loner guy in school as he never finds anyone interesting enough to hang around with in school. All the friends he has are either from his basketball club or friends he has from his childhood; with classmates he never gets along with, so after ninth grade he has stopped even trying to befriend anyone from his school. Now on top of it, as an even bigger punishment his mom has made him go to this snobby school, which if it isn’t for his high grades Ace would never have been accepted, especially with his record of bad behavior on school grounds. But they did and now he is stuck here. On top of it the bratty annoying girl sat down with him without even bothering to ask if she could or not. But it doesn’t matter now it is not like he is paying her any attention no matter how hard she tries, all her questions are either met with a hum or a nod from him. She should get the hint.

****

Before you know it the first last day of high school is finished and you and Robin made your way to your car. The weather is still nice and warm outside even with the typical Autum breeze.

“Any plans for tonight?” You ask Robin once you both enter your car. She shakes her head and yawns.

“No, I’m actually extremely tired I just want to go home and sleep until tomorrow morning.” She says while putting on her seatbelt on. You do the same as her before you start the car and drive to her home. “By the way, Isuka wasn’t the only one who noticed you checking out the new guy.” Robin’s playful voice gets you flushing as you try biting on your lips to stop the smile that is slowly growing on your face. “Oh, are you crushing on him?” Her voice rises a bit as she sees how you are trying your best to hide your smile.

“No, no Rob, nothing like this.” You shake your head with your eyes focusing on the road. “He is cute, but crushing is too much, I just saw him today and we haven’t even talked yet.”

“Yes, he is kind of cute.” Robin agrees with you, but you throw her a quick surprised glance.

“Kind of? He is super cute, especially when he put those glasses on.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you have a thing for nerds.” Your friend is quick to tease you.

“I doubt that he is a nerd, an outsider yes, but a nerd no.” You respond while parking in front of Robin’s house, she lives very close to school, so it usually takes no more than fifteen minutes’ drive or even less if there is no traffic.

“How did you come with the conclusion that he is an outsider?” Robin asks with surprise in her eyes as she barely paid any attention to the guy today.

“He didn’t spoke or try to interact with anyone today, and at the same time he didn’t seem to be the shy nervous type, you know?” You tell your observations of the guy to your friend, and she is more than impressed, this is not a typical behavior from you.

“Girl, when did you manage to observe this much of the guy?” Robin turns on her seat and waits for your response as she can’t believe what she is hearing.

“Oh, come on. I’m just very observative.” You try to brush it off, but Robin is not buying it.

“Sure, whatever you say.” She smirks and opens the door hopping off the car. “You know, now I’m quite interested in where this last year of high school will lead us.” Your friend raises playfully her eyebrows, and you laugh at her.

“Robin, I said he is cute, not that I’m interested in him.”

“Yet. Plus, I didn’t say anything about the guy, but you just did.” She winks at you as she closes the door without giving you the chance to response.

********

“Ma, I’m home.” Ace screams once he enters his home. Taking his shoes and jacket off he walks into the new apartment his mom rented when they moved to the new city. Ace hasn’t gotten used to the place yet, but it was because of him and his behavior as to why they had to move in first place.

“I’m in the kitchen, honey.” His mom calls for him from the kitchen which is also where they are having their dining aera as well. Entering the room Ace spots his mother next to the kitchen counter chopping some vegetables as something is boiling in the pot on the stove. When she sees her son entering the room her smile grows. “How was the first day? Please tell me you made some friends.” She looks at her son with pleading eyes as she knows how close off Ace likes to be and how he barely let anyone get close to him. “Also -” She points with the knife in her hands towards her cheek, indicating to her son to give her a kiss. Ace rolls his eyes but gives his mom a little peck on the cheek. “Now tell me about school.” His mom, Rouge encourages him. She is one of those people who is always with a smile on their face, her whole existence is screaming warmth and calmness. But this smile can easily go away the moment she enters ‘mama bear’ mode or when Ace really… really pisses her of which in the past two years since his father died, he has been doing more frequently than he intended to.

Taking a seat in one of the highchairs on the other side of the kitchen counter Ace just grunts with a shrug of his shoulders. Nothing interesting happened today. All he wants is for these nine months to go by as quickly as possible. Rouge snaps her fingers in front of her son’s face taking him out of his trance.

“Nothing interesting mom. School, what else to say.” He grabs one of the uncut chili peppers and takes a bite of it.

“Oh, Ace. Come on, it’s a new school. Did you not meet anyone interesting? How are the teachers? Something.” His mom nags him. Sometimes she misses her son’s bright side. Not like Ace was very open with people when his dad was alive, but he was always energetic around his parents. Rouge knows how much his dad’s death affects her son, but she prays every day and night for the day when her boy will be back to his old bubbly self at least around her and his closes friends and family. Nowadays the best she is getting is five to six sentences from him and the rest is grunts and hums.

“Well, there is this old hag literature teacher that is pain in the ass, but other than this nothing, mom.” He grabs another chili pepper as they are his favorite. “What are you making tonight?”

“Chili beans and ground beef. And before you say anything I did buy with only ten percent fat, okay. I don’t want another lecture on proteins and fats.” She points with the knife in her hand at him warningly and jokingly. Ace snots out a laugh and shakes his head, reaching for another chili pepper but his mom slaps his hand away. “Stop, there will be nothing left if you continue eating them like apples. Now, tell me more about school, come on. Okay one bad teacher, you will survive her. How about the classmates?” She asks as she takes the cutting board with the veggies and walks to the stove where the pot is, adding them to it. Ace starts playing with his fingers as he props his elbows on the counter and thinks for a second about his classmates. The guys are mostly rich spoiled brats, and the girls are no different. Well, one catches his interest, but he doesn’t plan to share this part with his mom at all.

“Rich spoiled kids, ma. Is there anything more to be said?” He raises his brow at his mom who rolls her eyes at him.

“Stop acting like you are some poor ghetto guy.” Her late husband has made sure that there is enough for both her and their son to have a good and stable future before he passes away. They aren’t the richest out there, but with what Roger has left, just her job alone covers all their bills and needs, so all the money will go for Ace’s education in university.

“I’m not mom. I’m just stating the facts.” Seeing that his mom is in a good mood Ace decides to test his luck. “By the way… it would be very nice if I can have my car keys back… you know as it would be way easier to go to school.” His mom’s laughter fills up the space once she hears her son’s lame attempt to get his car back. After getting expelled from his old high school, Rouge has taken away his car keys as she knew that this would make her son behave at least until he gets them back.

“I told you, depends how you behave you might have them back in six months.” She leans with her hands on the countertop and smiles at her son. As much as he looks like her, he has his dad’s dark eyes and hair which make him the perfect mixture of them both. “But good try Ace, you still have like what four or three months left… if you behave.” Rouge reaches with her hand and ruffles Ace’s dark messy curls. Ace pulls his head away from his mother’s hand and gets up from the chair.

“When is this going to be done?” He points with his eyes towards the pot on the stove.

“Max an hour, I think.” The only response Rouge receives is a grunt from her son before he makes his way to his room. “Oh, Ace… what am I going to do with you?” It pains her heart to see him like this, but his destructive behavior needs to get under control.

Rogue still remembers the phone call from the police station she received one Tuesday afternoon. Not only had her son got into another fight on the school property but on top of it he had broken some classmate of his arm. But that wasn’t the reason Ace was locked up by the police. He was also high on weed at school, and when someone from his class called the police on him, they found two blunts in his wallet, so he got cuffed immediately. On top of it, the family of the kid wanted to start a case against Ace, but with a lot of pleading from Rouge side, she managed to convinced them not to open the case. Instead, Rouge paid for the kid’s expenses during his recovery. And with a lot of connections and Roger’s best friend, Reyleigh – Rogue succeeded to safe her son’s criminal and school record, but she wasn’t planning on letting him go easy from this situation.

The whole summer Ace was working on two jobs so he could pay back his mom’s expenses on lawyers, the medical bills on the guy’s arm he broke, and he had to go to evening classes every Monday and Thursday so he could graduate eleventh grade. Not only this, but every month since then, Rouge has been making Ace take a drug test. If she finds out one more time that he is taking anything drug related he will be out of the house even if it would hurt her more than him. She doesn’t want to see her son destroying his future.

Entering his room and closing the door behind him Ace starts to take off the annoying school uniform. Changing to more comfortable clothes he lays on his bed and just stares at the ceiling. He misses his old town and friends. Even there he hasn’t been the most social person, especially in school, but still he had his friends, while here he has none. He has his mom, but it is not the same. And this new pretentious school is killing him, and it only has been a day since he has started. But he will have to push it through, after all he doesn’t want to see his mom’s disappointed face ever again. He might be everything else, but Ace isn’t stupid, he knows that his behavior is not only hurting him but his mother too. Because of this he must fix his ways of living not only for his sake, but also for the sake of the people who care for him.

Without realizing it, his mind drifts to you – the girl with the white knee length stockings. He can’t deny that he finds you attractive, but he isn’t planning on messing around with any girls any time soon and especially one from his class. You are some kind of a rebel because all day he hasn’t seen another girl with knee stockings like yours, all the other girls are wearing normal ones that cover every inch of their legs. It is either this or you are desperate for male attention, but something is telling him that you aren’t the type to care who gives you attention and who doesn’t. But his first impression of you is clear – ‘troublemaker’ and he doesn’t need troubles right now.

After some time scrolling on his phone Ace hears his mom calling from the kitchen. He gets up and goes to see what the fuzz is about.

“What, ma?” He asks as he enters the kitchen.

“Please, put the plates on the table. The meal is done, it just needs to chill down a bit and I need to make a phone call.” She washes her hands and dries them on the towel hung on the kitchen cabinet under the sink. Ace just nods and starts preparing the table for him and his mom.

********

It has been almost two months since school has started again and it is killing you. All you want is to be done with this particular school, but just seven more months left. The subjects feel harder this year than the last and you usually don’t have any problem studying but this year is taking a tool on you, and you have barely started. Walking into biology class early in the morning knowing that Robin is sick at home today isn’t very pleasant. She always lets you know earlier when she is not coming to school due to sickness or whatever reason as she knows how much you hate being in classes without her. But today you decide to go anyway, as you have biology, literature and PE, which means you are having three classes with Ace, which means that today might not be so bad even without Robin next to you.

Your little attraction from day one turned into full crush almost a month ago. Which is funny because you and Ace have never spoken, but you can’t help but feel attracted to him. To be honest, Ace doesn’t speak with anyone, his voice can only be heard if the teachers ask him something or if they have something to tell him about the way his uniform is not worn right. The only thing that you are aware of so far that you have in common with him.

Walking into the room most of your classmates are already there. Scanning the room your eyes land on Ace. As always, he has his headphones on while having his hands on the desk, with one elbow raise and his head prop on the palm of his hand. Taking a deep breath in you start walking towards the desk in the middle of the middle row and sit there. With Robin being gone for the day, you are going to be sitting alone so you put your bag on the chair next to you. Taking your notebook and pen out you start fidgeting with the pen between your fingers waiting for your teacher to come.

Slightly turning your head to the side, you glance at Ace. His messy hair falling freely around his face as always and his glasses already placed on his face, he looks adorable. Yes, your crush so far is based only on his lucks, but the rare times you have heard him talk, he is smart and yes, he is also cocky, but not like the rest of the boys in your class. There is some kind of a charm in his cockiness. Just before he turns his head in your direction you look away quickly.

His lips twitch for a second as he has caught you staring at him again. Ace is used at this point with your staring. It even starts making him wonder if you have a crush on him or something. You are not very easy to read so Ace isn’t sure a hundred percent if he is right about it or not. Slowly he runs his eyes down on your body and licks his lower lip. You are quite bold today, not only are you with knee-length stockings again, but on top of it they are dark red mesh material, so he is able to take a very good look at your legs. Are you aware of what these things are doing to still teenage boys… to him?

Just when his imagination is about to start working on the things he wants to do in between your thighs while you wear these red stockings, he hears the most annoying voice to exist, even over his headphones being on max volume.

“Morning Ace, it’s always so nice to spend biology with you.” Isuka’s voice rings in his ear as annoying as his first alarm in the morning. Ace doesn’t even bother to look at her. Since the first day at school, she has been sitting with him every biology class. He has tried many things: putting his bag on the chair where she is supposed to sit hoping she gets the hint that she isn’t welcome sitting with him, then sitting at another desk just so leaves him alone but still no success. One time he made sure to be the first one in class just so he could hide the fucking chair but sadly someone got sick that day, so she sat with him again. Thankfully it is only biology he has to sit with her. The teacher finally walks in, and the class is starting so Ace takes off his headphones and puts them back in his backpack.

“Students.” Mr. Bellman clapped with his hands as a warm smile is placed on his face as aways. He is one of the few, to not say only teacher in this school that is actually nice and understanding towards his students. “Before the Christmas break next month you all will be divided into pairs and do a project together.”

“Are we paired with whoever we want or you are going to pair us?” Ask a classmate of yours.

“Thank you for the question, Mr. Dawson. In fact, I have written all your names on a piece of paper and put them in a bowl.” He pulls out two glass bowls filled with small pieces of paper. “Those of you sitting on the left will be the one picking a note with the names of your partner and on those of you sitting on the right will be picking from the bowl with the topic of your projects.” After he explains you groan and quickly move to sit on the left side. You don’t care what topic you will get if you will be lucky enough to get Robin’s name out of the bowl. “Everyone understands? Okay, perfect. I will come to you now first with the names.”

Your turn finally comes, and Robin’s name hasn’t been picked yet so hopefully you will get her. With a warm smile Mr. Bellman encourages you to pick a piece of paper, and you do. You start laughing as you unwrap it and see your own name written on it.

“Well, Mr. Bellman I guess I’m either doing it by myself or I can choose with whom to work with.” You joke with him to which he laughs but shakes his head.

“I know you are hoping to pick Miss Nico as your partner Miss (Y/L/N), but with risk for you to hate me, please take another note.” You click with your tongue when your teacher tells you this. Mr. Bellman has gotten to know you very well over the span of the four years he has been your teacher, and he knows that you and Robin always go as a pair. Putting your hand once again in the bowl you drag another piece of paper. Unwrapping the small piece of paper your heart skips a beat once you read the name. “Mr. Portgas D Ace, how nice.” The teacher announces loudly as he looks at Ace’s direction.

Hearing his name being called Ace raises his head from his notebook. He looks at where Mr. Bellman is standing, and he is right next to you. ‘Nice’ Ace thinks to himself. You aren’t a bad option for a project partner especially when it comes to biology, you are pretty good from what Ace has seen of you so far in class. He only nods with his head as the teacher wrote you down as partners.

You on the other hand don’t know how to process the fact that you will be working with Ace for the next one month. You know he is smart and surprisingly he is one of the top students in class, but even if he isn’t the smartest it wouldn’t have mattered as this isn’t why you are concerned. It is the fact that you have a stupid little crush on him and spending time with him outside school might cause your stupid little crush to grow. Your thoughts are interrupted by Mr. Bellman’s voice.

“Okay, everyone has a partner, right? Now is time to pick your topics, now remember those on the right are picking them.”

Going around the room again Mr. Bellman skips you this time as it is Ace turn to pick your topic as he is sitting on the right side of the desk. Reaching with his hand Ace picks a piece of paper and unwraps it. Clearing his throat before he speaks, he looks at you.

“Causes of Narcolepsy and Insomnia.” He says with his deep raspy voice. In response you nod as you have turned to face him when he was picking it. Turning back around you write it down on your notebook, so you don’t forget. Before you have turned around you see the nasty look Isuka is giving you, but you pay her no attention. You are aware of her own crush for Ace, but it is obvious that it isn’t mutual.

After everyone get their topics, Mr. Bellman starts to explain how the project can be made and as long as it is submitted by the second week of December it should be fine for everyone. The class finishes on time and everyone starts to gather their stuffs. It takes you a moment to start putting your stuffs back as now you must speak to Ace no matter what. But by the time you turn around to see if he is still in the classroom he is nowhere to be found. With a sigh you get up and start making your way to your locker to grab your physics textbook and then make your way to the classroom. You won’t be seeing Ace until after lunch when you have your literature class and then PE, which means you have enough time to think of how to approach him. Or he might approach you, after all it is not only your project.

****

Lunch break comes and you made your way fast to your locker again. Deciding to skip on lunch today you grab your literature books and head straight to the classroom. You are the first one there as everyone is out for lunch now. Taking your usual seat in the middle row you pull out your phone and start texting Robin.

‘Rob.... I have a good and bad news...’

‘If it is about the biology project I already know as Nora has already texted me about it... so I suppose this is the bad news... now tell me the good’ She is quick with her reply. Not only this but you just realise that you have totally forgotten to pay attention to who got Robin’s name. Poor Robin, she must work with one of Isuka’s annoying friends for the project.

‘Girl I’m so sorry... yeah about the good news... guess who is my project partner :3’

‘No way :O ... is it Portgas?’ Of course, Robin gets it right from the first guess. You happily squeak and tap with your feet excitedly on the floor.

‘YES ROB IT IS HIM IN FACT CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?’

‘If I knew that the only day of me missing school would lead to this I would have gotten sick earlier xD have you two spoken about it?’

‘Not yet, but I have the next two classes with him as you know... so I plan to speak with him about it.’ You have already come with a plan, and it is super simple – he walks into the room, sits on his desk and you go speak with him, how hard it would be?

Well, it appears to be harder than you have expectedas he is late for class, but he comes eventually. After being scold from Mrs. Kenets he goes and sit on his usual spot – the last desk next to the window. After the class is done you miss your chance again as he is the first one to leave. But it is okay, you still have PE together you can speak with him then.

You aren’t very surprised when you can’t catch him to speak with during PE, too. It is the only class where he kind of interacts with people and it is the guys who he interacts with only when they play basketball. He plays very well, you have observed him many times, but you are not surprised after all he is tall, and he obviously works out, so this only adds to his looks. You even have a theory that he might be practicing basketball outside school, but you are not a hundred percent sure about this. You on the other hand try to join the girls and some of the guys who are playing volleyball, but it gets boring quickly.

Now you are just sitting on the benches, with your elbows on your knees and your head prop the palms of your hands, observing Ace and waiting for the perfect moment to speak with him about your project.

“Staring to much aren’t we?” Taking a deep breath in, you side-glanced the person who just sits next to you.

“What do you want Isuka?” You turn your head to the side to look at her with blank stare.

“I want to change partners for the project.” She crosses her arms across her chest and her tone from mocking turns to demanding. A makeshift puff of laugher escapes your lips as you look at her in disbelief.

“You heard Mr. Bellman we can’t do this, and I won’t do this for you especially.” It is not because Ace is your project partner, it actually doesn’t matter who it would have been, you will never do a favour for Isuka. Ever.

“You can have your friend Robin, and I get Ace what a better deal than this?” She continues to nag.

“You are not even the one paired with her, the fuck is you on about? And I told you I’m not changing partners for your pleasure especially.” You turn your head back to where the boys are playing basketball.

“Look at me when I speak to you.” Isuka hisses and pulls you by the hand causing you to look at her.

“Touch me one more time and I will sweep the floor with your hair.” You snap at her as you stand up. Verbally she can say whatever you never really care, but this right now is crossing any lines.

“Calm down loser you don’t want to get in trouble.” She also gets up and now you are on the same level facing each other. “Ace also wants to change so we can be together.”

“Do you even believe yourself when you said this out loud?” You snort and turn around to walk away. You can hear Isuka walking after you, but you chose to ignore her.

Passing by the guys playing basketball you don’t see Isuka going to one of them – Jack, the popular rich and extremely arrogant jerk in school. She whispers something in his ear and his arrogant laugher fills up the space. The guys have stopped the game as he is the one holding the ball and waiting for him to get back to it. Ace is standing with arms crossed across his chest while carefully observing the scene just a few steps away from them.

He saw you passing by a little annoyed by Isuka, who was following after you. Her bullying, if he can call it this, towards you haven’t been unnoticed by him, but it is always her put back on her place by you. Maybe this is the case again. But it isn’t. Just as Jack is raising his hand ready to aim at you, with his arrogant smile on while his face is turned to Isuka’s, it takes Ace three stapes to get to Jack and take the ball away from his hands.

“The fuck man?” Jack turns to him with disbelief in his eyes. “I was just about to have some fun.” He came closer to Ace bumping his chest with his, to which Ace snorts as he puts the ball between them keeping Jack’s body away from his. They are almost the same high, but Ace is still slightly taller than him.

“Since when hitting girls is considered fun Jack?” Ace raises one brow at him waiting for his response.

“Didn’t know you can talk this much Portgas?” Jack mockingly says to which Ace only replies with an arrogant smirk. After all Jack isn’t the only one who thinks he can act all cocky and mighty.

“I usually don’t waste my time speaking with people like you.” This struck a nerve in Jack as he hears Ace says this and goes to pinch him, but Ace is quick to dodge it. The teacher is quick to see what is going on and runs to the boys screaming at them. Taking a step back Ace laughs at Jack’s face. “Try faster next time, Jack.” With that he ignores the teacher who is trying to scold the boys but none of them is listening to them. Before heading to the changing rooms Ace gives Isuka a disgraceful look. It is clear to Ace that she has talked Jack into doing this, which is very low even for her.

You on the other hand have missed the entire show. Now as you have changed back to your school uniform and adjusting the straps holding your red stockings you curse yourself as you accidently made a hole on the side of the left stocking. Remembering that you have a clear nail polish in your locker you grab your bag and leave the changing rooms.

Standing in front of your locker and opening it you also put back some of the notebooks and textbooks you are carrying with yourself during the day. Most of the students are already leaving as the last bell of the day has rung like five minutes ago. As you are about to close your locker you haven’t paid attention to your surrounding, someone has leaned on by the lockers next to you, so when you hear their voice, you get startled.

“Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. (Y/N), right?” Turning around you are met with no other but Ace. With your eyes widen you swallow hard as you nod. “So, we are project partners now.” He says and you nod again.

“Uh, yeah. Actually, I was trying to get a hold of you the whole day.” You chuckle and try to straiten your posture. You open and close your mouth as you aren’t sure exactly what to say and Ace isn’t very helpful as he doesn’t say much himself. “Like... you know... I was wondering things like when should we start, where should we meet... you know ha-ha... project things.” You grab on your left elbow with your right hand as you try very hard to hide the fact how nervous you are around him.

Putting his hands in his pockets Ace can see how nervous you got out of nowhere. He swears this isn’t the same confident girl he has observed around school. But then again, he has seen you only with your black-haired friend which he always forgets the name of. Maybe you are only confident and bubbly only around people you know and that is why you only hang up with her.

“Which day after school works with you? The sooner we start the better.” Ace says and you nod agreeing with him.

“Any day works with me honestly.” You give him a small smile and wait for his response as he seems to think about when it will be best for him.

“How about Friday?”

“Sure, Friday works fine with me as well. Should we go to the library?”

“Yea, the library is fine. Then see you on Friday.” With this he pushes himself of the lockers and walks away. He isn’t arrogant, but he isn’t very friendly as well, so you are starting to worry how smoothly this project will go. But now that you have seen him up so close, you are totally sweep off your feet. This boy is unbelievably handsome.

‘Please, don’t have a girlfriend.’ You think to yourself, a thought that has crossed your mind million of times now. You have tried everything, but you can’t find him on any social media and as he doesn’t speak to anyone in school you have no idea if Ace is single or not. All you can do is prey that he is single, because boy your heart will be broken if he is taken and extremely jealous of his girlfriend.

*****

Friday comes fast and before you know it you are done with your classes for the day. You will be lying if you say that you are not nervous and excited at the same time now that you are about to spend the next few hours working with Ace on the project. On the other hand, Robin hasn’t stopped messing with you today as you have put extra effort in the way you look today. With your makeup and hair done nicely and your uniform being precisely ironed like never before, paired with dark blue knee stockings matching your uniform you looked gorgeous today. Even Robin herself commented how you will make him crush on you a hundred percent after your study session.

“Okay, how do I look? How do I smell?” You have dragged your best friend in the bathroom with you as you want to make sure that you are a hundred percent looking your best.

“Oh my God, (Y/N). Calm down, he is just a guy.” Robin is still in disbelief in the way you are acting when it comes to Ace. Sure, he is cute, even if he isn’t her type she doesn’t deny that the guy is good looking, but you have never been like this over a guy before.

“I know, I know.” You say in a desperate tone. Yes, you are super attracted to him and his looks but expect from this you don’t know anything about him, and you are hoping that with this project you will be able to get to know him. “I... I just want to... how to say it Rob... if he finds me somehow attractive then, of course only if he is single, maybe he might be up for a date or something.” Lowering your head and looking at your sneakers you feel Robin wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into a hug.

“(Y/N), if this guy is not on his knees for you after today, then he needs to change his glasses.” You both laugh as you pull away from the hug. “Okay now show me which lip glosses you have taken with you?” You eagerly pull out the two lip glosses you have taken with you in the morning as you can’t decide which one will look better. Taking a good look at them, Robin points with her finger to the cherry coloured one. “I think this will make your lips pop more.”

“Thank you. I was also thinking of the cherry one.” You put the other one back in your bag and start applying the cherry one on your lips. Smacking your lips once you are done you turn to Robin. “What do you think?”

“I think that I’m jealous of Portgas.” Hearing her comment you burst of laughing.

“Uh, I love you, Robin. You are the best friend I could have ever ask for.” You pull her for another hug, but she taps you on the shoulders to let go.

“Come on, he is probably waiting for you. And don’t forget to call me once you are done.”

****

Ace has been sitting on one of the old desks in the library for the past fifteen minutes now. He should have asked for your number. What if you can’t make it today? He has seen you around school earlier today, but still. Or what if you are here but can’t find him? He is definitely getting your number today. Not for any other reason, just so he can have some kind of contact with you while you do the project together.

“Hey, sorry for being late.” His eyes immediately shot at you as you stand on the side of the desk next to him. You smile at him as you pull the chair to sit. “Don’t tell me you have been waiting for me for a long time?” Your eyes are filled with guild and Ace is just staring.

‘Shit, she looks even prettier today.’ He can’t help but think to himself. Ace can’t deny that he has found you attractive since day one, but he hasn’t been in a relationship ever. Which is strange that the thoughts of relationship are crossing his mind since he doesn’t want one. He does have his fair share with girls from time to time but nothing more. Not only this but whatever you have put on your lips today are making them even more plump and desirable. If he can just pull you closer and kiss you right now he would. Calling him out by his name you take him out of his trance.

“Sorry? What were you saying?” He clears his throat as his voice comes out a little bit raspier then usual.

“I asked if you waited for me for too long?” You let a small giggle at his confused expression. To your surprise Ace let out a little chuckle himself. This is the first time ever you hear any form of laugher from him and you swear something bloomed in your stomach.

“Nah, I didn’t. Actually, you need to give me your number, so we have some kind of communication through out the project.” Your eagerly nod as you see him pulling his phone and handing it to you so you can put your number in. You quickly type it with your name as well and give back the phone to him. “Nice, thanks.” He says and puts the phone back in his back pocket.

“How do we start now? I see you have taken some books already.” You reach and take one of the books and observe it. It is about neurobiology, which your topic for ‘Causes of Narcolepsy and Insomnia’ is based on.

“Yea, well we can do bigger research on insomnia as I have a narcolepsy myself so you can leave all that part to me.” He runs his hand on the nape of his neck a little uncomfortable.

“Oh, no please. I want the work to be equal for both of us.” You are quick to protest and surprise to hear that he has narcolepsy himself, he hasn’t showed any signs in school, but again from sharing just three classes together you don’t know much about him. “Also, I didn’t know you have narcolepsy. I know it is not easy living with one as my little cousin also has it.” You smile at him as you understand a bit how he must feel dealing with this on the daily basis.

Raising his brows in surprise as he hasn’t met anyone so far in his life who has it or have a person close to them struggling with it, Ace is a little taken aback and not sure how to response to this.

“Ya, it does sucks sometimes.” Is all he manages to response with. “In that case should we get to work?” With a nod from you, you both start to discuss how you can manage your project and the topics for it.

Time goes by fast and before you know it, it has already been two hours. During those two hours it is mostly you who breaks the silence with suggesting ideas or double checking with him if you should include a certain information in. Deciding to take a quick break from gathering information and writing it down, you decide to be bold and ask him more personal questions in the meantime, if you can call them this, so you can get to know him a little.

“So, um Ace...” You start unsure if he wants to talk or not, but when he hums and looks at you in response so you take this as a yes – he might be up for a small talk after all. “What made you choose this school?”

Unsure how to response to this question without mentioning that he has been expelled from his previous high school he gives you the most logical answer ever.

“My mom, you?” Short and clear as ever, but at least he asks you as well.

“My parents.” You roll your eyes, if it isn’t for them you would want to attend another not so strict and pretensions school.

“Why the eyeroll?” He takes his glasses of and puts them on the side. The switch in his charm with and without them is indescribable – with them on he gives this persona of a little introvert and unbothered guy, who is also extremely adorable; without them he gives and has the vide of the cocky cool guy with a bad boy vibe who with just one look will get you on your knees. Shaking you head of you try to focus yourself back into the small conversation.

“I don’t know if you have noticed but this school is quite pretentious.” You whisper like there are many people around you, moving your eyes side to side pointing out your surroundings. A puff of makeshift laugher escapes Ace’s lips as he nods his head.

“Yea, same. Can’t stand this place and its rules.” He leans on the back of the chair and loosen up the tie around his neck.

“Tell me about it, I already had three detentions.” You huff. Rasing one of his brows questionably to why and how you have gotten detention, three times on top of it. Even he hasn’t gotten one, yet. “Because of the stockings.” You scrunch your face with a smile and Ace chuckles at you.

“Why don’t you just wear the same ones as the other girls?” No matter how cool Ace wants to play it, this question has been on his mind for a long time. It is only you in the whole school who allows herself to wear something that is considered inappropriate.

“I really hate stockings, I don’t even like these ones, but God I would rather get detention than getting to the principal’s office ever again.” Your whole body shivers from the memories of it.

“What they send you to the principal just because of some socks?” Ace snort, he can’t believe how ridicules this school’s rules are.

“No, I was sent to him because I came to school without any – just me and my bare legs, and in my defence, it was the end of May and outside was almost thirty degrees.”

“Oh, fuck this school.” Ace laughs in disbelief as he runs both of his hands through his hair messing it even more.

“There is more to the story.” You say and he looks at you like you are kidding. “Don’t look at me like this, I’m not joking. They called my parents and bear with me now – they had to listen to the principle going on and on about how unappropriated their daughter behaviour is because of this, and how she is promoting sexual behaviour in the school’s property dressed like that.”

“What a troublemaker you are (Y/N).” Ace clicks with his tongue as he laughs once he hears your story.

“The biggest one, don’t forget.” You point with your finger at him correcting his mistake as he raises his hands in the air like you have pointed a gun at him.

“How did your parents react?”

“They are super cool. I wasn’t grounded or anything like it, but they begged me only to never come to school again with bare legs.” Both of you share a light laughter before silence takes over you. “Should we continue?” You are the one to break it once again.

“Nah, I think we did enough for today. What are your plans next Wednesday after school, we can meet again?” Your eyes widen from excitement as you eagerly, too eagerly for your liking nod your head. “Cool, then until next Wednesday.” He says as he gets up and takes his stuff. “Troublemaker.” He chuckles at you over his shoulders and leaves.

****

Wednesday turns to next Friday, and next Friday turns to see you again on Monday and for the next three weeks you and Ace are meeting at least two times per week to work on your project even thought you do twenty percent working and the rest is you two talking and getting to know each other. To your surprise Ace is quite talkative when he wants to be. The more time you two spend together the more you get to know him, and the more is your crush on him growing.

One time you gain the courage and very subtilty you asked if he has a girlfriend to which he answered no, and you felt like all the powers, gods and goddesses, whatever is out there was with you that day. Not only that he is handsome with amazing personality, but he is also single. The two things you must be careful about now are: one trying to not get in the friendzone and two if he likes you – you don’t want it to be just sex, you want it to be more than this.

During school, every time you bump at each other in the hallways you are always greeting him, and he always nods at you or mumbles hello back. Of course, this got you a few unpleasant stares from a few girls around school. One time at literature class when he was the one to stop by your desk and talk with you, you noticed Isuka choking on her water and if it was possible in real life, she was going to have steam of smoke coming out of her ears out of jealousy.

The only sad part of it all is that you two are pretty much done with your project, only a few more details are left but it won’t take you more than two hours to finish it. As you are laying on your bed with your notebooks spread across on it, your phone vibrates. You grab it and your eyes sparkle with excitement once you see who the message is from.

‘Tomorrow same place at the same time?’

‘Of course ^.^’

Not wasting even a second later you dial Robins number. The moment she does you are quick to speak.

“Should I tell him that I like him?” You blurt out.

“If you feel like it – yes.”

“But what if he doesn’t like me back? That way things will be awkward till the rest of the year, and I don’t want it to be this way.” You bite on the cuticle of your nails as you stand up from your bed and start to walk back and forth in your room.

“I think he does.” Robin says with a reassuring voice over the phone.

“I think you are feeding my delusions.”

“Girl, calm down. From what you’ve told me and I’ve seen from you interacting I think he might be into you as well, plus you’ve said he that he is a pretty chill guy, so even if he doesn’t, I’m sure that it won’t be very awkward after it.” She starts to laugh as she can only imagine you going around in a circle around your room, and she isn’t wrong.

“You are right, after all the worst he can say is what? That he is not into me and… and…” Your mind goes spiraling with thoughts of what could be the worst thing Ace might say to cut you off.

“And the world will keep spinning now calm down and worry tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes, you are right. See you tomorrow, Rob.”

“See you tomorrow… troublemaker.” She laughs and cuts the line immediately knowing how to tease you. You have mentioned to her how from time-to-time Ace calls you ‘troublemaker’. Falling on your back on your bed you just stare at the ceiling – what is the worst that can happen tomorrow?

****

Walking home after his basketball practice, Ace can’t help but think of you. In the past three weeks you two have been talking a lot. He enjoys it more than he wants to admit to himself. On top of it, your beauty is like a bonus to your personality – not only you are smart and funny, but you are also mischievous and spontaneous. And he likes this about you a lot. You are the type of person who is down for anything, especially judging by the stories you have told him about yourself. You are also quite charming and cute when you have this sparkle of mischief in your eyes. Yes, you are a troublemaker, but not the type who looks for troubles on purpose, it is more like a rebellious troublemaker. You will stand behind your words and believes no matter what and not only does he finds this extremely attractive but he also respects it.

Unlocking the front door of his home and walking in he is greeted by the voice of his mom. Entering the living room, he sees her sitting on the couch drinking tea, as her long ginger hair is falling freely on her back and shoulders.

“How was practice, honey?” She asks with a big smile on her face as she takes a sip of her tea and then place it on the coffee table.

“Ma, stop calling me pet names like this.” He grunts as he takes a seat on the couch next to her with one arm prop at the back of the sofa. “And it went good and very, very tiring. We ran a lot today.” Ace tells her as he is stretching his legs with a hiss from the soreness.

“I can definitely smell this.” She replies sarcastically as she punches her nose and waves her hand at her face messing around with her son.

“Oh, shut up mom. I showered there and I will go shower again in a minute.” Ace laughs and moves closer to her as he raises his hands in the air making his mom fake a gag from her son’s sweat.

“You are the same pain in the ass as your dad.” She raises her voice acting like she is irritated but in fact she is not, she is having quite the fun with her son right now. Poking him on the sides where she knows that he is ticklish, she laughs when he groans and gets up from the couch.

“Well, I don’t come from the neighbor. You choose my dad not me.” He jokes with her as he reaches and takes her tea mug and chugs it down.

“Did you just drink all my tea?” Rouge’s eyes widen as she sees the smug smirk placed on her son’s face.

“Your stinky son is thirsty, sorry ma.” Ace lets out a boyish laugh as she reaches to playfully smack his forearm but misses. Grabbing his gym back from the floor he makes his way to the bathroom but before this he stops at the door and looks at his mom. “Mom, do I really stink?”

“No, Ace you don’t. I’m just messing with you.” She looks at her son lovingly as he nods his head. Sometimes he is such a dork, especially recently. But Rouge doesn’t mind it. In the past almost two weeks and so her son is somehow more talkative, more open. Something he hasn’t been in a long time, and something is telling Rouge that there is a girl involved in this, and she can’t wait to tease her son about it, but not now. For now, she is just enjoying having a little bit of her son’s old self back. But once she has the opportunity, she will definitely tease him about it, especially after he has mentioned briefly that he is doing a project for biology class with a girl and Ace never talks about girls of any kind with his mom.

After taking a shower and going to his room Ace grabs his phone as he sits on his bed and texts you. Tomorrow you are finishing your project and as much as he wants to be done with it, he is not that excited to be done with your little meetings after school. But you might continue to spend time with each other from time to time, after all you have a few shared classes together.

His thoughts are interrupted by his phone vibrating with a message from you as a little smile twitch on his lips. Laying on his bare back on the bed he looks up at the ceiling with thoughts filled with you. Maybe he does have a little crush on you, but this is not what he needs right now. After all you are a troublemaker, and it seems like troubles love to follow him.

****

Walking into school Ace feels a little weird today as a lot of people are staring weirdly at him. Usually, he doesn’t pay attention to people staring at him, but it is something in their eyes that it is like a judgment. He makes his way into the school sport hall as his first class for the day is PE. Leaving his gym bag in one of the lockers in the changing room as he came to school with his gym clothes, Ace made his way to the sport field. Entering the closed space field, he notices everyone staring and whispering in his direction. ‘What the fuck?’ he thinks to himself.

“Portgas.” He hears his name being called by no one but Jack himself. “Do you carry a blunt or two with yourself or we should call the police in case you lie.” Jack screams across the field and everyone laughs.

You and Robin have just entered the sport hall from the back entrance and are still dressed in your uniforms as you have some time before the class starts to change to your gym clothes. What confuses you both is seeing everyone laughing.

“Hey, Vanessa.” You call one of the girls with whom you speak from time to time in class. “Why is everyone laughing.”

“Oh my God, girls you must see this.” She says and pulls her phone up playing a video. The video is of a guy who is being held by the police as he is curing loudly and fighting them as they try to cuff him. “Jack sent this to the entire class, and well half of the school as well.”

“(Y/N) is this Ace?” Robin looks at you with frown brows. You are about to call her out but then you see the face of the guy, it is Ace. What is going on? Looking up from the phone screen you see Ace and the rest of the class laughing at him. Without giving it a second thought you run to him. You hear Robin calling after you, but you pay her no mind.

“Ace.” You call out once you are close enough to him. He just side glance you and doesn’t say anything. “I… um… there is this video going around… you getting cuffed by the police… are… are you okay Ace?”

“Do you know who spread it?” He asks you in a calm voice. Too calm for your liking.

“Vanessa told me that Jack sent it to half the school.” You quietly reply.

“Thank you, (Y/N).” He says without looking at you and starts to make his way towards Jack with his fists clenched. Realizing what he is planning to do you are quick to stand in front of him and stop him by placing your hands on his chest.

“Ace don’t.” You give him a pleading look.

“Yes, Ace don’t. Listen to your little girlfriend.” Jack calls out loudly again but this time with mocking voice of a little girl. Laughter fills again the whole sport hall. Clenching his jaw tight Ace pushes off your hands and starts to make his way towards Jack again but you are not going to let this happen.

“Ace, please listen to me for just a second.” You stand in front of him again.

“Fuck off, (Y/N). This is between me and this motherfucker.” He snaps at you as he moves to the side but so do you as you aren’t letting him take another step.

“I know, but this is what he wants and Ace this won’t end with detention.” You know better than him how this school’s rules work. Especially when it comes to students like Jack with rich parents. Ace is going to be out the second he lays his hands on him. “As much as I want to see Jack’s face being punched, I don’t want you to get kicked out for a such thing.” After saying this Ace finally looks at you. his eyes and his whole face full of rage.

“Damn you (Y/N) and this whole school.” He spats at you before turning back and storming off the sport hall.

“Won’t you run after you boyfriend (Y/N)?” Jack says again with a mocking voice. Turning in his direction you just smile at him and start walking towards him. “You know if your attitude wasn’t so unpleasant you would make a very good girlfriend with a face like yours.” He smirks as you stand in front of him. Smiling at him and before he has the time to react, you spit in his face and walk away to find Ace. “You little bitch. Wait until I catch you.” Jack screams full of rage after you as his buddies gather around him trying to hold him still as he wants to run after you.

“(Y/N) you animal.” Isuka screams after you but you just raise your hand and show her the middle finger. Before you leave the sport hall Robin catches up with you.

“Girl, this will cause you some trouble you know?” She walks along you as you are looking everywhere trying to find Ace.

“I will worry about this later. I need to find Ace.”

“Oh my, you are a lost case. Do you really like him this much? Is he really worth the trouble?” She stops you by holding you by the shoulder and you look at her seriously.

“Yes, Robin. I do like him this much, and he is worth the trouble. Now please let me go so I can look for him.” Inhaling and exhaling deep she lets go of your arm.

“I can help you at least.” She pleads but you shake your head.

“Thank you, but I think it’s better it I do it alone.” Before you run away you look at her. “By the way will you cover for me for the rest of the day?”

“You don’t even need to ask me this.” Shaking her head with a smile she sends you off to look for Ace.

You look everywhere – the school hallways in both wings in all three floors, the cafeteria, the main floor by the entrance and now you are making your way to the library. For the almost four weeks you have spent together and the three months since school started you are a hundred percent sure that whatever the reason behind why he has been arrested isn’t something that will change your opinion about him. You know a little bit more about Ace now and one thing he is not is being a bad person. From what you have seen in the video it had happened in a school property and the best they can arrest you for is if you have been with drugs to school. Ace doesn’t seem like the guy who does hard drugs so you are a hundred percent sure that it might have been for weed. But even if it is for something more serious you don’t care much because you trust your intuition, which tells you that he has a valid reason and explanation to the story behind the video.

As you run towards the library you spot him walking out of the school. The moment you take a step to turn in his direction you feel a drop of rain on your face. ‘Grate now all we need is rain.’ You think to yourself as you fasten your pace to catch up with him.

“Ace, please wait.” You call after him to which he looks over his shoulder with still anger written all over his face.

“Go back to school (Y/N).” His voice is still harsh but not as much as when he has told you to fuck off in the sport hall.

“I can’t go back to school. Please, it’s about to be pouring rain. I-I can drive you home or whenever you are goi-” Ace turns to you with an angry expression – his brows drew together with his jaw clenched. He opens his mouth to say something and in this exact moment rain stars to fall from the sky like crazy. Both of you get soaked in a matter of seconds – him with his long sleeve compress black t-shirt and basketball shorts and you in your now soaked school uniform.

“Go back to school (Y/N) and just continue with your day.” He rolls his eyes and turns around as he starts to walk away from you.

“Ace, I can’t go back to school and continue with my day because... I... well I did something...” This makes Ace stop his track and looks at you. As if he couldn’t look even more hotter than before now with all his clothes soaked from the rain and his black hair wet from it you could faint from the sight of him on the spot.

“What did you do (Y/N)?” His voice got even deeper. Ace is standing and watching you looking at your feet and arms behind your back just like a little kid who has done a mischief and now is guilty about it. Not only this but your white shirt is now stuck to your body from the rain Ace can clearly see the bright red bra under it, which is matching with the stockings you are wearing today, making it very hard for him to focus on just your face alone. Lifting your head and giving him big doe eyes look, with your mascara smudged a bit from the rain, anger isn’t the only thing he is feeling right now.

“I-I spat Jack in the face.” You look away now ashamed of what you have done even if he deserved it.

“You what?” Ace takes a step towards you. He can’t believe you have done this and the trouble you will get into for it. “Why did you do this?” His mind is running wild. Why would you do such thing? You won’t be getting away with just a detention after school.

“Because he tried to make fun of you.” Wrapping your arms around yourself you tired to shield from the cold rain and his pierced gaze.

“I can stand form myself (Y/N), I don’t need some girl to do it for me. Thank you, now everyone thinks I’m a coward and a pussy on top of it.” Running his hands over his wet locks Ace shuts his eyes and tries to take some deep breaths.

“A-Ace I-I didn’t mean to cause you harm. I-I just... I-I wasn’t thinking... I-”

“Just shut up.” Opening his eyes and seeing how your own eyes are filled with guilt and shame he curses himself. “I’m mad right now, okay? I don’t want to be an ass toward you, but damn it, why you are such a troublemaker all the damn time.” This isn’t a question, this is a statement. Why are you going headfirst aways? Why did you even go to such extreme just because some asshole tied to get on his nerves. Seeing how you are shivering from the cold Ace exhales deeply and grabs you by the arm firmly but also gentle at the same time. “Where is your car?” He asks you as you start walking towards the parking lot.

“There is the little red one.” You point with your finger towards the small Toyota Aygo parked in the middle of the parking.

“What is with your obsession with the red colour?” Ace huffs as you reach your car and waits for you to unlock it.

“I didn’t choose the car nor the colour of it. And red is not my favourite colour.” You say with a little pout as you unlock the car and both of you get in. Ace has to adjust the seat as he is a bit too tall for your car.

“Yea, bet.” He scoffs with a roll of his eyes.

“Where should I drive to?”

“My place.” Ace replies dryly. Brushing your wet hair from your face you nod and start the car.

****

The car ride is silent. The only time you and Ace exchange any type of words is when you ask him for direction. These twenty minutes to his place felt like an eternity to you. ‘Good job (Y/N), now you messed up any chance to have something with him.’ You are thinking to yourself. There is no chance that things will recover easily now that you have put both you and Ace in this situation. Parking the car in front of the building where he lives you don’t dare to look at him.

Unbuttoning his seatbelt Ace looks at you with one brow raised. Why are you not turning off the car?

“Aren’t you coming?” Hearing the question from him you finally dare to look at him.

“Uh... I... do you want me to come? I-I don’t want to bother your mom or something.” This and you also haven’t expected to receive such an invitation from him.

“Yea, come if you want. My mother is not home anyway.” He is still a bit pissed at you, but he also sees you trembling as you both are still soaking wet from the rain. Last thing Ace wants is for you to get sick because of him.

Hesitating for a moment you slowly nod your head and turn off the car. Unbuttoning your seatbelt, you and Ace both go out of it. The rain is still pouring but none of you hurries up to get inside. You are quietly following him as you enter the building and get in the elevator. Ace press the third floor on it and in the meantime, you look at yourself in the mirror. You notice that you look like a mess – with your hair and cloths all wet and your makeup ruined you feel like a clown right now. On top of it you notice that your bra is seen from under your shirt, and you can feel the embarrassment taking over your features again.

The ding of the elevator indicates that you reached his floor, and you wait for him to go out first so you can follow. Searching for his keys in the side pocket of his gym bag Ace pulls them up and unlocks the door. Opening the door, he nods at you to get in first. Taking a step in and taking off your boots you take a quick look around the place. It looks very neat and cozy, the walls are a very nice light cream nude colour.

“We can go to my room.” Ace says as he starts walking toward it and you go after him. While passing the living room you notice that there are a lot of paintings on the walls of flowers. Looking at you over his shoulder Ace notices you observing them. “It’s my mom’s hobby. Painting flowers is her new obsession.” He explains while holding the door to his room open waiting for you to get in.

“She pains very nice, they are beautiful.” You say as you look from under your lashes at him as you pass to enter his room. The room is quite messy, but you are not surprised or judgy as yours is not better condition than his. Some of the walls have basketball players on them and the walls are paint in a nice spruce blue colour. Next to his window is a big desk with his computer on it and by the looks of it he is also a gamer boy.

“You game a lot?” You ask trying to break the uncomfortable silence that has taken over again and also to calm yourself down because the realisation that you are in his room, in his apartment soaking wet just hits you.

“Yea, you can say this.” His reply is dry but unbeknown to you Ace is feeling just as awkward as you are right now. What was he thinking inviting you over? Especially with you looking like this right now, which causes his mind to run wild with the things he wants to do to you.

“Is that LeBron?” You point at one of the posters hanged on the walls to which he scrunches his nose and shakes his head.

“It’s Koby, um... it’s written with big letters on it.” He points back at the poster, and you awkwardly chuckle at your obvious mistake.

“Sorry, guess I need to check my eyes.” You let out a giggle as you try to lighten up the mood. Ace doesn’t share the giggle with you and at this point you are running out of ideas to how to make the situation less awkward. Chills run all over you and you wrap your arms around you to which Ace clears his throat.

“I can give you some clothes to change to, um... give me a sec and sit on the bed or something you don’t need to stand up.”

“It’s okay I don’t want to wet your bed or something.” You try to brush his offer off, but he just points with his eyes towards the bed so you just nod. Going to his wardrobe he starts to look for something that can fit you as well, but all his cloths will be too big on you. Finding some old basketball shorts and a baggy t-shirt he grabs them, ‘they should fit her’ he thinks to himself. Turning around and seeing you sitting crossed leg on his bed so innocently looking at him at the same time with guilt written all over your face, gets his pulse raising. Taking a few steps and standing in front of you, with a little bit of a distance, he hands you the clothes. You mouth a thank you and reach with your hand to take them.

“Why did you stop me from punching his face but not yourself from spiting on it? You realise that now you are the one in trouble not me?” Giving you the clothes he sits right next to you on the bed. This time his voice is calm, there is no trace of anger in it. Ace wants to genuinely know why you put yourself in this situation.

Trying to collect yourself you don’t know how to response to this question without making things between you two worse. How do you tell him that you like him so much that the fact that a guy like Jack trying to make some kind of fun of him makes your blood boil. How do you tell Ace in a first place that you like him?

“I-I told you Ace... I just... just don’t like people like Jack making fun of others.” You uncross your legs and put the clothes to the side as you start playing with your fingers nervously.

“I get this part without you needing to repeat yourself. But you came and told me to drop it only for you to go and do the same thing is not very smart.” Ace turns his head to face you, but you refuse to look at him. “(Y/N) look at me.” His words are demanding but his voice is not, instead it is softer and somehow pleading. Still, you refuse to look at him as you are afraid if you do so you won’t be able to resist the urge to just scream at his face that you have feelings for him. Ace curses under his breath and places two of his finger under your chin making you look at him. “I didn’t and I don’t care what any person in this fucking school will or already is thinking of me or the video they saw. In a few months none of these people will matter. And I have been wanting to punch Jack’s face in a long time and if it wasn’t for you, I was going to do it. But why did you have to get involved?” Ace is trying his best to get an answer from you but all he gets is widen from fear eyes and you biting on your lip to a point where he thinks blood will come out soon. With a sigh he drops the hand that holds your chin on the bed next to your thigh, his shoulders slumping a bit as he doesn’t know what do to or say to make you to tell him the truth behind your actions. “I’m not mad at you, I’m more concerned about what will happen to you now. I don’t want you to get expelled from school because of me.”

“They won’t expel me, I will get in trouble, but they won’t expel me for it, so don’t worry.” Your voice is quiet as you try to reassure Ace that he shouldn��t be worried about you. But the fact that he is concern about you is filling your belly with butterflies.

“This doesn’t answer my question (Y/N).” He says propping his elbows on his knees and resting his head in the palms of his hands.

“I-I can’t Ace.” You whisper.

“You can’t tell me? Why?” He straitens his posture again and looks at you in disbelief. “Why are you shy out of nowhere? Where is the confident rebellious girl that I know, now? You left her at school or something?” He is right. This isn’t like you. But you just can’t bring yourself to tell him, afraid of his rejection. You could feel your heart beating faster with every passing second.

“I- Ace... I- I... I did it because... because...” The words are on the tip of your tongue but saying them aloud is harder than you expected. Especially now with your eyes locked, the more you look into his deep dark eyes the more you are afraid of them rejecting you. “Because... Ace...”

“Just say it for fuck’s sake.” He snaps and at the same time you shut your eyes closed and blurt it out.

“Because I like you.” Silence filles the room. With your chest raising and falling fast you don’t dare to look at Ace, while he is trying to process what he just heard. Did he heard you right, you like him? Like you have a crush on him?

“Wh-what do you mean you like me?” His eyes widen from the shock and voice filled with confusion if you dare to open your eyes you will see his cheeks covered in blush as he still can’t believe what he has just heard. Not being able to take any more embarrassment for today you jump on your feet ready to run but Ace catches you just on time as you are about to open the door. Turning you around to face him and grabbing both of your wrists in his hands he pins you against the door with his body. “You can’t tell me you like me only to run away a second later.” He grunts as his face leans closer to yours. “How long?”

“Ace please...” You whisper pleadingly. Your legs are getting weak and your mind is getting foggy from having him towering over you. Not to mention the heat that forms in between your legs from the way you can feel his body on you.

“No. Answer. Now.” His voice goes lower and deeper sending chills on your body. “How long?” He repeats his question as he squeezes on your wrists but not in a painful way but in a very gentle yet demanding one. Looking away from his eyes he clicks with his tongue. “No, look me in the eyes.” Cursing under your nose you do as he tells you too. “Good girl. Now answer.”

“Since we start school.” You mumble quietly almost making it impossible for him to hear you.

“Louder (Y/N).” He presses his body on you entirely with one leg in between yours causing you to bite on your lip so hard just so you can supress the moan that almost has slipped your lips.

“Since we started school, okay? I had a crush on you since day one and... and then I started to like you... that’s... that’s why I-I...” You can’t finish your sentence as Ace crashes his lips with yours. It takes you a second to realise what has happened but the moment you do you return the kiss immediately. His kiss and his lips are better than you have imagined them - soft and full, you are a hundred percent sure you have never kissed a guy with such nice lips before. And the way he kisses you with passion and desire you are about to melt in his hands. Releasing your wrist and wrapping his arms around your waist you are fast to wrap yours around his neck.

“Jump.” Ace whispers against your lips and he doesn’t need to tell you twice. With one little bounce he catches you in his steady arms and lifts you. Wrapping your legs around his torso he continues to kiss you as this time his tongue licks your lower lips asking you to open your mouth. Parting your lips Ace wastes no time slipping his tongue inside your mouth. Electric currents are running over your body the moment he deepens the kiss. His tongue gliding with yours feels so warm and sweet. The taste of the kiss is a mixture of mint and the candy you and Robin shared earlier before classes.

Walking to the bed with you in his arms Ace places you gently in the middle of it as he hovers over your body without breaking the kiss. Now like this you have a better access to his body, you run one of your hands through his messy soft dark locks and the other over his hard defined with muscles back. Breaking the kiss to take the needed air both of you have forgotten that you need, Ace looks at you with half lidded eyes as he licks his lips which now are puffier from the kissing.

“You want this as well, right?” He sounds a little out of breath as his face comes closer to your ready to kiss your sweet puffy lips again, but also to make sure that you both are on the same page with where this is going. You can’t find your voice so all you can do is nod your head and pull him for another kiss. This time you don’t supress the moan that wants to escape your lips when you feel his hand grabbing and squeezing your thighs as he slides them under your skirt.

Feeling the soft skin of your thighs and hearing your sweet alluring moan, Ace feels his dick twitching in his shorts. Removing his hands from under your skirt he finds the zipper of it and unzips it. Pulling away from the kiss and you, he gives you a few slaps on the side of your right thigh to lift your hips so he can take off your skirt. Doing as you are being told he takes it off fast and sighs with pleasure at the view in front of him as he parts your legs.

“You sure red is not your favourite colour?” He smirks as he teases you over your red lace panties which now are drenched from your wetness. “Come on, I have only kissed you, not even properly touch you yet and you are this desperate for me?” Ace licks his lips not moving his eyes away from your covered pussy.

“You are not the one to talk.” You are quick to tease him back as his hardened bulge is being quite visibly defined in his basketball shorts.

“I’m not even fully hard yet.” He smirks from satisfaction seeing your pupils dilate. Hovering over you once again Ace kisses you again but only for his lips to travel to your jawline down to your neck. Him kissing and nipping your neck, while his hands are running up and down your thighs, feels like you are levitating. Finding your sweet spot on your neck, Ace gives it a lick and then sucks on it causing you to jerk your body upwards from the pleasure and goosebumps he has just caused you, but he is fast to hold you firm under him with his hands and body. “Stay put.” He whispers in your ear as he bites on the soft part of it causing you to whine under him.

Running your hands down on his biceps you realise that he has way too many clothes, and it’s time for him to get rid from some of it. Reaching with your hands down to his torso you find the ends of his compress shirt and start lifting it. Knowing what your intensions are, Ace helps you with removing the shirt as he throws it somewhere across the room. You feel your pussy throbs from the sight of him shirtless. His chest is defined and muscular and so are his abs which get your mouth running dry. You run both of your hands over it, feeling his warm and soft skin under your fingertips, you bite on your lower lip as you notice a tattoo on his left arm, which you have never seen before.

“Enjoying the view?” He chuckles as his hands reach for the buttons of your shirt and start unbuttoning them one by one. Propping yourself on your elbows, you help him take it off. Reaching to unclip your bra Ace is quick to stop you. “No, this can stay. Red looks good on you.” His voice has gone raspier and he gently pushes you to lay back on the bed again. Pressing you once again on the matters he dips his head in the crook of your neck and slowly trails his lips down to the valley of your chest. With his hands now on both of your breasts he cups them and squeezes gently.

While he is busy kissing the skin around them and massaging them you are exploring the expanse of his back and shoulders. Reaching the waistband of his basketball shorts and determined to take them down, you get distracted as you feel Ace pushing one side of your bra lower and wrapping his lips around your harden nipple. Your hands move to his hair instantly as you push him closer to your chest. He doesn’t let your other breast feel left out as his thumb and index finger are switching between soft and hard pinches making you whine in pleasure.

“Ace please.” You beg him as you can feel the pool of arouser that has formed in between your legs. Rasing your hips a bit so you can get a bit of friction to his harden bulge he pins you down again with his body making it impossible for you to move. Letting go of your nipple with his lips and looking up at you he shakes his head. His dark brown eyes are now filled with lust as does his mind.

“Do you know how long you have been teasing me with these stockings you come to school and your innocent glances at me all the time?” He asks you while rolling his hips on top of you with a hiss. Your eyes widen with surprise as you heard that he has caught you staring at him all the time in school. “What you think I haven’t notice?” Ace laughs mockingly at you. “You think I haven’t notice you getting all dolled up for our first meeting for the project or these beautiful thighs since day one?” He teases you with his low deep voice as he stars traveling down with his lips on your body.

Moving his hands and placing them at the back of your knees Ace raises them and places your legs on his shoulders leaving you entirely exposed to him. Running his fingers on your stockings up to where your thighs are exposed, he lets out a sigh full of satisfaction. Your soft and beautiful thighs which have been driving him crazy for months, now are finally in his hands and the things he has been planning to do to them are about to come true.

With one hand caressing your left thigh, he starts slowly placing a trail of kisses on the inner side of the right one. As he gets close to now your drenched lace panties, he bites softly on your softest part of your inner thigh causing you to jerk closer to him as you can’t stand his teasing anymore.

“Ace please... please touch me.” You are so desperate for his touch that a single tear falls from your left eye.

“Sh, patience.” He is quick to hush you as he turns his attention now to your left thigh and does the exact same thing all over again but this time with his kisses are slopier. Not only the waistband around his basketball short is getting tighter but so are his boxers. It takes all his willpower to withhold himself from taking them down and fuck you aggressive on his bed, but before he does this, he must taste your pussy.

Gripping on the side of your hips a bit to harsh but not on purpose, Ace drags your lower body even closer to his face and finally he is able to inhale the sweet smell from your soaked pussy. Kissing your pussy lips over the fabric of your panties, a whisper leaves your mouth. Tracing the outline of your lips with the tip of his nose, Ace stops at your covered entrance and kisses it, causing his lips to get wet from your dripping pussy. Licking his lips and taseting how sweet your cunt is, he can’t help but moan himself. Holding you still firm in his arms with legs propped on his shoulders, he reaches with his right index to move aside your panties.

“Oh God you are so beautiful.” His voice comes out as a whine of pleasure as he finally uncovers you and he can see your coated from arousal pussy. You can’t help but clench your cunt around nothing as his comment makes you squeeze your thighs from desire. “Ye baby, make this pussy throbs again.” Ace being pussydrunk by the sight in front of him, can’t move his eyes from your cunt as he is in an awe. You do as he has told you and another moan leaves his lips. The view of your wet pussy leaking with your arousal almost made him finish on the spot.

Not wasting a second more Ace buries his face in your wet folds. Taking one long lick from the entrance to your puffed clit your whole body shakes. Cleaning all the sweet juices off he is now entirely focused on your clit. Sucking and licking the bundle of nerves Ace gets you twisting and turning under him. A sudden impactful slap causes tingling sensation on your ass cheek. A mixture of pleasurable pain and surprice leaves your lips.

“Stay still.” Is the only thing Ace tells you as he looks at you with a hungry look in his eyes and lips still on your pussy. “Or you won’t finish.”

Inhaling deep as he goes back to eating you out you are now entirely up to his mercy. You can no longer move or squeeze your hips afraid that he might deny you your orgasm. Sucking harshly on your clit, he extremely gently bites on it which caused you a feeling of pleasurable pain that you have never felt before, he slowly moves his tongue to your entrance. Plunging his tongue in your entrance he starts to slowly tongue fuck you which causes your eyes to roll from pleasure. Taking a better hold of you with his left arm Ace reaches with his right hand and places his thumb on your clit and start to run circles around it. With his tongue fucking you and his finger playing with your clit you feel the pleasure building in your lower stomach. Gripping the bedsheets under you in a tight grip your hips start to shake. It takes one stronger push on your clit from Ace’s finger to get you crying out his name as your orgasm hits you like the truck.

Ace rolls his eyes from pleasure the moment he feels you clenching your pussy around his tongue as your sweet cum covers his tongue. Not even bothering to stop until he licks the last drop from you Ace doesn’t move an inch from your pussy.

“Ace, Ace please... please I’m too sensitive... Ace...” You try to make him stop but all the air has left your lungs and you feel dizzy under him. With one last long lick and a kiss placed on top of your clit Ace finally pulls his head away from between your thighs. Taking your legs off from his shoulders he lays them spread on the bed. Coming closer and hovering over you he brushes the hair from your face and kisses your lips. You can taste yourself on his lips as now he is slowly kissing you as his lips and chin are covered in your pussy’s juices.

“You taste so sweet, baby. I can get addicted to the taste of you.” He whispers as he pulls from the kiss. With half lidded eyes and still recovering from the aftermath of your orgasm you cup his face in your hands and pull him for another kiss. Relaxing his body on top of yours, you can feel his dick twitching in his pants. Sliding one hand in between your bodies you trace the harden bulge with your hand and squeeze it causing Ace to hiss from pleasure. Breaking the kiss again you both looking into each others’ eyes.

“I think your shorts needs to be taken off.” You swallow hard as you gently massage his hard member.

“Yea, I think so too.” Sitting on his knees again Ace pulls down his shorts along with his boxers freeing his harden cock. Your thighs clench at the sight of it. His cock is not only big, but it is also thick and vainly. Precum is already leaking from his redden tip as he runs his hand up and down his shaft. Moving to stand from his bed he takes the shorts and the boxers off entirely and kicks them on the floor. He reaches to his nightstand and open the last drawer taking a condom from it. Ripping it open with his teeth he slides the condom on his length and hopes back on bed, nesting himself between your legs. “Are you ready? Relaxed?” He hovers over you and looks at your eyes to see if there is any sign of hesitation in them.

“I am Ace.” You breath out as you adjust your body more comfortably on the pillows behind you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders pulling him closer to you.

“You are not a...” He awkwardly scrunches his face as even though he is sure you are not a virgin, he rather be safe then sorry.

“Uh, no... I... I have done it a few times.” You chuckle a little shy and also finding it adorable that he is so mindful about your comfort as well. Nodding he spreads your legs open a little more with one hand as he runs the tip of his dick up and down from your clit to your entrance.

“Relax and enjoy then.” He says as he kisses your lips once more and positions his tip on your entrance. You bite on his lower lip as with a little push he entrances you slowly. The feeling of burn is taking over your core because of his size and seeing this, Ace gives you some time to adjust to it. Clenching around him he hisses from pleasure which instinctively makes him trust in you. A moan of pleasure escapes your parted lips, and this gives Ace the sign to go.

Rocking his hips slowly but steady in and out of you, Ace has propped himself on his elbows on both of your sides and is looking down on where your bodies are connected. Trying to muffle your whines and moans by kissing along his neck and shoulders, your hands are exploring his chest and back as you can’t get enough of the feeling of his soft skin on yours.

Increasing his tempo as he feels you relaxing more under him Ace grabs your legs again and place them on his shoulders, raising your lower back in the air as he grabs a pillow and places it under it. Now standing steady on his knees, he has put you both in a better position where you can feel him better and deeper in your gummy walls, hitting the sweet spot causing you pleasure all over your body. Now focused on your breasts bouncing with every hard thrust he reaches with his hands and pinches your hard nipples causing you to arch your back from pleasure. Clenching and unclenching your pussy from pleasure around him, your moans mixed with his grunts fill up the room.

“Shit, if you continue to squeeze this tight I... shit...” He lets out a moan as you squeeze on more time your pussy around his dick. Grunting, Ace puts down your left leg and turns your body to the side as he keeps your right leg up. In this position, hitting your walls sideways you can’t help but roll your eyes from pleasure. You can feel the burning sensation in your lower stomach forming once again indicating you that you are close.

Seeing you arching your back and rolling your eyes, with fists clenching around the bedsheets a cocky smile spreads across his face. Ace feels like he has never seen something sexier than you right now - your puffy swollen lips parted and your boobs bouncing up and down with every trust his dick makes deep into you.

“Ace, I’m goin...” A muffle cry leaves your lips, making it unable for you to finish your sentence as your whole-body jerks and shakes around Ace as you milk down his dick. The squeezing of your pussy as you climax on him, makes it feel tighter for him and Ace can feel that he is about to cum soon. With the feeling of your warm gummy walls hugging tight his dick he trusts now harder in you than before. The sounds of your skin slapping and the hot air of sex that has taken over the room makes him roll his own eyes and with one last thrust he shoots his head back and a loud groan leaves his lips as he cums with his dick buried deep in you.

With both of you trying to catch your breaths, Ace pulls out after a minute from you but before he gets from the bed he places a gentle kiss on your forehead. Grabbing his boxers before he leaves the room, he tells you that he will be back in a moment to which you only nod as you are still recovering from your high. Coming back after a minute in the room with his boxers on, he carries a wet towel with him.

“You don’t need to do all this I can do it myself.” You protest but Ace shushes you as he sits on the bed next to you and gently cleans the mess between your legs.

“I clean after myself, plus you said you don’t want to wet my bed, right?” He chuckles as he messes up with you. Hiding your face with the palms of your hands you laugh at his comment.

After he made sure that you are good and alright, Ace helps you to put some cloths on and both of you get under the covers of his bed. He is leaned on the headboard as one of his hands is placed over your shoulders with your head on his chest. Runing circles on his chest with your fingers you move your head a bit to take a better look at him.

“Um, Ace?” You quietly call for his attention and he focus it on you. “Can I ask why were you arrested?” You aren’t sure if this is the best moment to ask this, but it is worth the shot. Ace hums and takes a deep breath before he answers.

“I was getting in school fights a lot and one day I broke a guy’s arm from my class. But this is not why they cuffed me, it was because I was high and had weed with me.” He explains short and clear. “I got kicked out and with a lot of connections and thanks to my grades, my mom managed to get me into the shit of school we go now.” Saying this he looks down on you and chuckles sarcastically. “You still like me now?”

“The question is do you like me?” You are still scared of the answer as having sex with you don’t equal mutual feelings.

“About this...” Ace takes a deep breath in and can’t help but laughs as he sees your face going blank from fear. “How do you feel about a date this Friday?” He gives you a charming smile and you are finally able to breath again.

“As long as I don’t get grounded after today, it is a yes.” You smile at him as you would love to go on a date with him.

“Then this should give you your answer.” He kisses the top of your head as you snuggle closer to him.

****

You two have fallen asleep when Ace suddenly jerks awake as he hears something falling in the kitchen. Looking around his room is dark which means you two have taken quite the long nap. Moving you aside a bit as he gets up to check what made the noise. Putting a t-shirt and a pair of shorts to cover his body, Ace leaves the room fast as he doesn’t want to wake you up.

Getting in the kitchen he is met with his mom stern but also warm gaze.

“Care to explain why you left school early today?” Rogue asks her son as she is preparing dinner. Ace blushes as he realises now that his mother is home there is no way possible that he can sneaks you out nor that she hasn’t notice the pair of girly boots by the entrance of her home.

“Uh, yes ma. But you know... I kinda have someone over.” He awkwardly scratches the nape of his neck. Rogue can’t help but laugh as she sees Ace whole face getting flushed.

“Mm, I kind of already figured this out.” She half shrugs with her brings her focus again on the cutting board. “Is she your girlfriend?” Taking a glance at her son again she giggles as he is struggling with finding the right words to describe the situation.

“Soon to be... maybe... yea something like this.” Ace murmurs avoiding looking at his mother.

“Well, then she should definitely stay for dinner, don’t you think?” Rouge puts the knife down and smiles at Ace. This is new. She has never met any girl Ace has liked or let alone catching him with one at their home, so she is more than excited to finally meet a girl who her son is interested in.

“I will ask her if she wants to.” Ace says as he turns to walk back to his room.

“Is she the girl you are paired with for biology?” Rouge calls after Ace before he leaves the room to which he response with his thumbs up without looking back at her. A big knowing smile placed on her face. She knew it. She knew that his recent behaviour is caused because of a girl. And she can’t wait to meet her and thanks her for bringing her son’s sparkle back.

END NOTE: This is the first smut ever that I write so please I need a feedback if it was good or not. I really hope that you have enjoyed this one shot as I really tried to build the characters and their characteristics + behavior in the best way possible giving the fact that this won't be a series. Also I hope that you have enjoy the little interactions between Ace and his mother Rouge as I feel like he would be such a mama's boy but not in the awful unhealthy obsessed way, but in the very healthy mother-son relationship. Anyway I won't be yapping more - if you liked this short story feel free to like, comment, reblog or inbox me ♡ And as aways thank you for reading my works ♡

writing, format, header & dividers © eand47 ©eand47, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

249 notes · View notes

washoping · 5 months ago

Text

But the scars still linger

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Emily Prentiss x reader

summary: After taking it slow you and Emily are about to have sex for the first time but revealing all of you, including your self-harm scars that were the reason for taking things slow in the first place, turns out to be more panic-inducing than you expected. Luckily Emily is right there to show you how worthy you are.

tags: 18+, fluff and smut, comfort, talk about self-harm, scars, insecurities, panic attacks and mental health struggles in general, body worship, sex

f/f │ 5.2k words │ ao3

a/n: this has been up on my ao3 already but thought i’d post my writing here as well. writing these is like therapy to me but i wanted to share in case they could bring comfort to other people as well. all typos and mistakes are mine, english isn’t my first language. feel free to send requests, i'd love to write more <3

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Emily’s kisses had this strange effect on you. Every time you two kissed since you started dating you felt like all of your worries disappeared the moment Emily’s lips touched yours. She made you feel safer than anyone else before. You had showed her more of your soul than any other person had ever seen and she wasn’t scared of what she had discovered. If anything, it was the total opposite - she was there for you and you couldn’t help but think you didn’t deserve her.

You had talked about your past, about what you’d been through in your life before her. You hadn’t shared even half of that stuff before. Emily knew of the darkness you could easily start slipping into when things got rough but she was right there by your side, ready to catch you before you started to slip. She knew of your struggles with your mental health and you two had made a pact to take things slow. It took you a while to trust people but trusting Emily had been easier than you thought. She made it easy.

You admired Emily’s patience, having very little of it yourself. She had told you multiple times that she would wait for you forever because ”you were worth it”, but you found that hard to believe. You didn’t feel worthy.

That’s why it was so difficult for you to believe that this moment right now was happening. You had never felt this close to anyone before - in fact you had never let anyone this close prior to this. Being this vulnerable was new to you but you knew you’d do anything for Emily.

Emily was kissing you, making your poor heart pound loudly in your chest as if its' only task was to remind you of all the anxiety bubbling inside of you instead of excitement. Emily’s lips were on yours but they weren’t having their usual effect of forgetting about the world on you because you had gone further than before.

Your kisses were more passionate than before now, initiated by you. Emily had sensed it and her hands were travelling all over your clothed body, stroking your upper arms, your sides, your back. Her touch sent shivers down your spine. You found the growing passion between you two thrilling but also terrifying at the same time. When it came to letting people close to you it wasn’t only the mental part of it that you hadn’t done. You had also never let anyone physically this close.

As your kisses got hungrier and hungrier you started to struggle with staying present. Your mind started racing, feeding you all kinds of insecurities to dwell on. Stupid mind.

Emily’s fingers trailed down from your shoulders to your upper arms, then further down your arms. It felt like they left a trail of fire in their wake as they went. You pulled away from the kiss and found yourself unwillingly holding your breath when Emily’s fingers came to your wrists. Her fingers and your skin had the fabric of your long sleeve shirt between them, but it might as well have been nothing because as soon as you felt her touch on your wrist, you flinched in panic and pulled your arm to your side.

No, no, no. You blamed yourself for forgetting about the mess of a person you were for a while and letting things get this far. Damn Emily and her kisses that made you lose all common sense. You felt bad for her, for having to deal with someone like you.

You looked into her eyes, finding hers looking at you with confusion and concern. She was so beautiful. People like you were never meant to be with people like her. She was way too good. You weren’t worthy. Of anyone, you thought, but especially of someone like Emily.

”Hey… what is it?” she asked softly with such understanding you couldn’t fathom it. Her voice was like a soothing balm to your anxiety that was filling your body, making you freeze in spot.

Your throat was suddenly dry and you couldn’t think of what to say. You swallowed hard, trying to come up with something that would make this moment pass quicker.

”It’s nothing”, you lied and hoped Emily would let it go, but it was a stupid thing to do because deep down you knew she would see right through you right away. She profiled people for a living after all. There had also been numerous times that you had been surprised of how it seemed like she knew you better than you knew yourself.

You looked away, trying to escape Emily’s eyes. You couldn’t face the kindness in them. You felt like you didn’t deserve to be treated with kindness after hiding something like this from her for so long. You didn’t even know how you had managed to hide it for so long, but it didn’t matter anymore because you felt Emily’s fingers gently lifting your chin, forcing you to look at her.

”Hey, I can see it’s not nothing”, she whispered, seeing right through you. ”Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her words made tears well up in your eyes. It was like the weight of your secret was pressing down on your lungs, making it impossible for you to take a deep breath in to calm yourself the way you wanted to. You nodded, still trying your best to hide your panicking.

”Promise not to judge me, Emily…” you said quietly, not really sure if you meant to even say it out loud but Emily had clearly heard it because her brows furrowed in concern as she nodded quickly.

”I would never judge you”, she reassured you.

Without saying anything else you started rolling your sleeves up slowly, revealing the faded scars starting from your wrist, travelling up your arm. You had no idea how you had managed to hide this part of yourself from Emily for all this time you had been together. Long sleeves - obviously. But when she had stroked your arms to show you affection, or touched your thigh to comfort you in a crowded place, or when her leg had brushed against your ankle when cuddling… you had managed to ignore it and hiding had gone well until tonight. Tonight it had ended up being too much.

The room seemed to grow quieter and the air heavier, making it even more difficult for you to breathe properly as Emily took in the sight in front of her. You had never enjoyed complete silence because it made your anxious mind race but bearing this silence was on a whole another level. When you finally dared to look at Emily the look on her face broke your heart.

The silence continued as you watched her reaching out, her touch being feather-light as she traced along the white lines on your skin, some raised, some not. You almost couldn’t take it.

You hated them. Your scars. You had been clean for a good while now and harming yourself, at least the way you had done before, wasn’t a thought that crossed your mind as easily anymore. But back then it had been your primary coping mechanism, a really bad one - you were aware of that. You were prone to having coping mechanisms that in the end didn’t help you cope, but actually made things worse. Cutting had been the worst one.

It would’ve been easier to forget about that horrible phase of your life even existing if there weren’t these neatly placed scars on your left wrist, your upper thighs and ankles, reminding you of how badly you had once wanted to leave this place.

And now you were looking at the one thing in this place that made you want to stay, and seeing her looking at your scars felt worse than any of the pain you had ever inflicted on yourself. This was worse than any of it.

”Why didn’t you tell me before?” Emily finally asked, her voice breaking slightly as she looked up at you.

You shrugged your shoulders, trying to hold back the tears in the corners of your eyes. You felt so exposed, showing these parts of yourself to another human for the first time ever.

”I was scared. I didn’t want you to think less of me. To doubt my sanity or abilities or anything like that”, you explained, voicing out your fears to Emily. She nodded, understanding what you meant right away. You noticed her eyes filling with tears just like yours the moment they met yours and it stung your heart to see it happen because of something you did. ”And I already have a hard time looking at myself… my scars, my body in general. I…” you continued but Emily interrupted you.

”C’mere”, she mumbled and gently pulled your arm to bring you closer to her. She wrapped her arms around you, enclosing you into a tight embrace that brought you more comfort than you dared to even admit to yourself. You needed this. You were against her chest and she stroked your back gently, making you feel so appreciated and loved.

”I would never judge you, I hope I can make you believe that somehow”, she whispered while hugging you. Her hand was stroking your back soothingly, a gesture that told you everything was going to be okay. ”I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that alone. But I’m here now and you don’t have to face it alone anymore, if you just let me be there for you. I want to be.”

In Emily’s arms everything felt okay. Her words felt like a warm blanket wrapped around you, but doubt still gnawed at your heart, your past experiences hanging around you like ghosts.

”Why are you so kind to me, Emily?” you whispered, your voice barely audible because half of your words were muted by Emily’s shirt you were pressed against. ”Why would you want to be with someone like me? I’m… I’m broken, Em. I don’t deserve you.”

Emily broke your embrace for a bit to pull back slightly. She wanted to do it to look into your eyes, but her hands still stayed on your shoulders because she knew you’d appreciate the contact. When your eyes met you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You felt them falling from your eyes and Emily wiped them away immediately, not wasting a second letting the tears stain your cheeks.

”Don’t you dare say that”, she said, her voice firm but only because of how much she cared. ”You’re not broken. You’ve been hurt, yes, but you’re so strong and beautiful and incredibly deserving of love. We’re all broken. We all have scars. We all have stuff we’ve went through and survived and it doesn’t make us any less capable or worthy. And you, my love… you deserve so much, baby.”

Emily’s words hit you hard. Looking into her eyes as she told you all of that made you realize you had never heard words like hers from anyone else in your life before this. You shook your head, your tears flowing freely now.

”It’s just so hard to believe that”, you admitted, your voice cracking. You looked at Emily who was fighting back tears. ”I’ve felt worthless for so long.”

Emily cupped your face in her hands, both of her thumbs gently wiping away your tears.

”I know it’s hard”, she said so extremely softly. ”But I’ll be here, every step of the way. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to do this alone.”

You tried to nod and take a deep breath but it came out shaky and uneven. You were trembling.

”Emily, I… I feel like I’m about to fall apart”, you managed to admit before trying to take another deep breath and failing again. Your chest started to tighten with the familiar sensation of a panic attack that was about to hit you. ”I’m scared”, you whispered through your tears.

Emily’s hold on you tightened and she reminded you of her presence by stroking your upper arms. She walked you to the bed, trying her best to ground you. She knew your bed was where you felt the safest, it was your comfort place. She guided you there and sat you down, kneeling on the floor in front of you. Her hands were stroking your thighs up and down, her touch a reminder that you were here.

”Breathe with me, honey. Can you do that for me?” she whispered, her own breath steady and calm. Without being able to look her in the eyes you tried to mimic her breathing, hoping it would help you calm down too. Emily saw you concentrating as well as you could and she whispered sweet praises to you the whole time.

”In and out… just like that. You’re safe with me. Everything is okay, just focus on my voice.”

And you did. You listened to Emily’s soothing voice while you searched for her hand to hold. She grabbed your hand the moment she realized what you were trying to do. You clung to her, your whole body still trembling. Despite the awkward position with her sitting on the floor she held you, stroking your back, giving you all the time in the world to just breathe.

”That’s it”, she murmured against your hair. ”You’re doing great, baby. Just keep breathing.”

Some minutes passed, though it felt like an eternity, before you felt the weight on your chest lifting. It felt a bit easier to breathe again and when you pulled yourself out of Emily’s arms you saw her flashing you an encouraging smile.

”Thank you”, you whispered and wiped a tear away from your cheek, smiling a little. You didn’t know how to thank Emily enough for being there for you. ”You’re so good to me.”

”Because I love you”, she replied right away with zero hesitation. ”I love you more than you can imagine. And I believe in you, even when you don’t believe in yourself. You’re worth it, every bit of it.”

Her words pierced through the fog of self-doubt that had been shadowing you for years. They brought you a glimmer of light into the darkness that had enveloped you for so long. Maybe, just maybe, with Emily by your side you could start to heal. With her love and support it seemed like anything was possible.

”I’ll try”, you whispered. Your voice was still shaky but there was a layer of newfound hope in it. ”I’ll try my best to believe.”

Emily’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears.

”That’s all I ask, darling. One day at a time, together”, she said and tightened her grip on your hand. You looked down at your intertwined fingers and how Emily’s thumb drew patterns on top of your palm. It was so soft, so soothing.

”Emily… I need… I need to feel close to you. To know this is real”, you confessed with your voice trembling out of vulnerability.

Emily’s eyes softened again and she pushed herself up on her knees to reach you better. She wrapped her arms loosely around your neck and pressed a tender kiss on your lips that were still a bit moist and salty from your tears.

”I’m here”, she whispered against your mouth. ”I’m right here, my love.”

Her hands moved to your shoulders, to your sides. They started roaming over your body, not in a demanding way but more like an offering of comfort and intimacy. She knew that was what you were silently asking for. You responded to Emily’s kiss, letting it grow more urgent, seeking solace in her familiar touch. The atmosphere in the room changed into desperation, it was like you couldn’t get enough of her touch. It was the only thing that could ground you right now.

Emily’s fingers brushed against your scars again. You noticed you had totally forgotten about them. Even though her touching them now was sudden, you didn’t flinch this time. You didn’t pull away. Instead you let her touch you, to soothe the scars with the softness of her fingertips. You both looked down at the lines scattered on your arm for a bit before Emily caught you and distracted you with another kiss.

Then she stood up, pushing you gently down to the bed. She helped you lie down in front of her and when you noticed the hungry gaze she looked at you with, it made your heart race. Emily was all you had ever dreamed of and you couldn’t believe you had the privilege to call her yours.

Her eyes never left yours as she moved above you to straddle your hips. Her eyes were filled with love so profound that the whole moment felt more important than anything else had ever felt before.

”You are everything to me”, Emily whispered, her voice thick with emotion while she started pressing tiny kisses all over your neck, making goosebumps appear on your warm skin. ”Let me show you just how much you mean to me.”

Her hands continued exploring your body with tenderness that took your breath away. Her lips followed the traces her fingers drew. Her movements were directed by her need to make you feel adored. Each kiss, each caress, each tiny little movement she made was a silent promise of her love and support. You clung to her, afraid to let go in case she somehow disappeared out of your reach.

When you felt Emily’s hands slipping underneath your shirt you felt a warmth spread through your body. You sighed into the slow kiss Emily was teasing you with while grazing your soft skin with her fingertips. You could feel her smile while kissing you and it melted your heart. It was so easy to forget about the rest of the world even existing.

Emily was too slow for your liking with your shirt. You couldn’t wait to get it off and feel her skin properly against yours, without any fabric in between. You had been longing for this, absolutely yearning, so it felt like your skin was burning out of pure lust for the woman on your lap.

”Take it off”, you mumbled against her lips and she let out a chuckle. She grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it off. She couldn’t help but stroke the soft skin on your shoulders. She placed a small kiss there, and then on the other shoulder. On your collarbones, then on top of your breasts that were covered by a simple black bra. ”God… just undress me, Em.”

And she complied. She didn’t waste any time getting rid of the rest of your clothes and easing out of her own in the process as well. Both of you were left in just your underwear and you couldn’t help but steal glances of Emily’s body. You noticed she had her own scars and marks as well and suddenly everything she had said earlier made total sense. Your fingers traced a protruding scar on her abdomen and she put her hand on top of yours gently, to show you it was okay. It was part of her. Maybe the pain never truly went away but it was possible to live with it. Maybe you’d learn to live with your scars too.

Emily’s lips crashed against yours again and she gently pressed her whole body against yours, lying on top of you. You loved the feeling of being trapped between her and the mattress, the pressure made you feel safe.

She took a break from kissing you and just looked into your eyes, making sure you were feeling alright. She didn’t need to ask. You nodded, letting her know she had your consent and she answered with a small smile.

You were so mesmerised by how the light hit her deep brown eyes that you only noticed Emily’s hand sneaking down between your legs when an involuntarily moan escaped your mouth. She touched you through your underwear, finding the fabric damp already - which wasn’t a big surprise. It amused her, you could tell by the smirk on her face.

”You’re so pretty when you’re this needy for me”, she teased you in between kisses and started drawing circles with her fingers through your panties. Your hips tried to buckle up but the way she was lying on top of you made it difficult for you to move too much.

She stopped for a short while to ease you out of your bra. With one swift motion she slid her hand behind your back and undid the clasp, then pulling the bra off and throwing it on the floor. You felt a bit self-conscious, you couldn’t hide it. You and Emily had shared so much, seen so much of each other, but this was new. You were almost completely bare, emotionally and physically.

Emily could sense the nervousness in you. She grabbed one of your boobs softly, kneading it in her hand while lowering her head and taking the other’s nipple in her mouth. Your back arched as you watched her and felt her teasing the quickly hardening bud between her lips. You grabbed her head with your hands, your fingers getting lost in her silky black hair. A quick look at you before she swapped to the other nipple and she closed her eyes while giving it the same attention as the first one. You adored the sight in front of you, how your skin glistened with wetness Emily’s mouth left behind.

”Your boobs are perfect”, she stated when she opened her eyes to look up at you. You cradled her face in your hands, finding it difficult to believe her. You tried to, but saying something self-deprecating was your initial reaction.

”I don’t real-”, you managed to start before Emily stopped you right away.

”Shhh…” she shushed you and quickly came up to shut you up with a little kiss. ”None of that, okay? Not on my watch.”

You nodded, trying your best to just focus on Emily and this moment. Your mind was trying to take you elsewhere but it was stopped when Emily took her bra off. She didn’t give you a chance to pay much attention on her boobs before she lowered herself on your body so that she was situated between your legs on her stomach. She looked at you hungrily, inhaling your scent.

”Oh god”, you whispered under your breath when you felt her knuckles brush ever so slightly up and down your slit through your panties. You had never felt this turned on before and you were sure Emily could see it from the way your body reacted to her.

”Such a pretty girl… and all mine. I’m so lucky”, she whispered, blowing air against you on purpose. You writhed on the bed, desperate for her to just touch you properly already. She still dared to tease you by kissing you through your panties for a while until she decided it was time to help you out of them. She undressed you and then took a good look at you, admiring you with her eyes.

You felt shy and felt a blush creeping on your cheeks immediately.

And then she suddenly came up and sat against the headboard of the bed. She pat the spot in between her legs, motioning for you to sit there.

”Lean your back to my chest”, she told you and you did. You two fit like puzzle pieces when you leaned back. When your back was pressed against her you could feel her breasts pressing against your skin. You wanted to touch them, to suck on them, but Emily’s mind was clearly set on bringing you satisfaction instead.

Her arms wrapped around you and you loved how being so close to her felt like. It was pure bliss, the way her hands started travelling down your body and how they ended up caressing your pussy gently. You saw how her fingers glistened with your wetness as they teased you carefully, not touching your clit just yet. With your head leaning on her shoulder she placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

You inhaled sharply and your body jerked a bit when Emily’s fingers finally brushed over your clit. It felt better than any of the times you had done this to yourself before. You closed your eyes, letting Emily guide you through this, giving yourself and all of your trust to her completely.

”Is it okay if I slip a finger inside you?” you heard her asking and saying no didn’t even cross your mind. You nodded yes and heard Emily letting out a deep chuckle. Her voice so close to your ear made you shiver.

And then you felt her entering you, slowly and gently. She knew you could take it. You could hear how wet you were when she started moving her finger in and out of you in a slow rhythm. Her free hand found your breast and grabbed it, holding it like her life depended on it.

”More… another…” you breathed out and even though you didn’t see it you could’ve sworn Emily had a smug smile on her face.

”Another what, baby?” Emily teased you, whispering into your ear as she watched you writhe underneath her touch. You tried to move your hips to make her go deeper and to tell her what you needed, but Emily wouldn’t budge. ”I need you to speak up for me.”

”I need another finger, Emily please”, you finally begged and you could tell it amused Emily because as soon as the words had come out of your mouth she added another finger, and soon after a third one. You felt her fingers filling you and you couldn’t help but moan when she picked up the pace.

”God, you’re so soft…” she whispered into your ear and you turned your head, desperately needing to kiss her lips. You got completely lost in the kiss, moaning and whimpering as Emily’s fingers worked their magic. You couldn’t believe you had gone this long without this.

You felt Emily’s other hand squeezing your boob again, then wrapping tightly around your waist to pull you close to her. She noticed your legs starting to tremble a bit when you got closer to an orgasm so she put her legs over yours, locking you in place, making it impossible for you to close your thighs. You moaned her name in frustration, wanting to move your body purely just because all of this felt so good, but you weren’t able to. Your hands grabbed her arms when her hand found your clit.

”Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you cursed under your breath when you felt Emily fingering you and rubbing your clit at the same time, making your body spasm. You didn’t even realize how tight you squeezed her arms but she didn’t seem to mind, quite the contrary actually - it seemed to fire her up even more and she picked up her pace. As a result your thighs tried to close but she forced them to stay open with her legs. You wriggled in her grasp and groaned, no longer capable of controlling the sounds leaving your mouth. You were somewhere completely else.

”Come for me, my pretty girl”, you heard Emily say right next to your ear with a deep but sweet commanding tone. With that tone it was so easy for Emily to make you do whatever she asked for. You’d obey.

She started planting kisses all over your neck, the side of your face, your shoulder. You knew you wouldn’t last long feeling the combination of her fucking you recklessly and being so sweet with her kisses at the same time. Your hand flew to hers, grabbing it while she was playing with your clit and you squeezed it tight.

”I’m gonna…” you could get out of your mouth but Emily knew already that you were about to reach your peak. She was so good at noticing every tiniest sign from your body that showed you were close. She continued her steady pace of fucking you, not giving you any mercy. She saw your eyes closing in the midst of all the pleasure.

”No… no, baby. Look at me. Don’t close your eyes, I want to see you when you come. Please”, she said and used the same tone as before, knowing you couldn’t resist. You opened your eyes and looked into Emily’s big brown ones right when your orgasm hit you. Her eyes were full of love, her gaze not leaving you for one second while your body shook uncontrollably in her arms. She kept you afloat as you were taken over by your orgasm, repeating Emily’s name over and over again without even realizing it.

She smiled, slowing down the movement of her hands and fingers to let you calm from your high. You held on to her, trying to catch your breath.

Her hand that was on your clit moved to rest gently on your stomach while the fingers of her other hand stayed inside you, barely moving. You fell limp against Emily, feeling your skin sticking to hers. You loved being this close to her, feeling her heartbeat against your skin. She kissed your temple while you tried to calm down after what you could only describe as the best orgasm of your life. You felt so safe in her arms. You didn’t want this to ever end.

When Emily was about to pull her fingers out of you, your hand flew to her wrist to stop her. You didn’t want her to do so just yet. You couldn’t bear the thought of feeling empty so quickly after being filled up by her.

”Stay inside me for a bit more, please?”

”Of course, my love”, Emily answered sweetly, keeping her fingers inside you. You closed your eyes, sighing contently. This time Emily let you close your eyes - but she couldn’t help but reach to kiss your lips when she saw the peaceful look on your face. It was so serene compared to before when you were revealing your scars to her. The panic was gone and she adored the calmness she saw now. She kissed you softly, channeling all her admiration towards you in the kiss.

She gasped when she tasted a salty tear, quickly noticing that it had fallen from your eye down your cheek. She grabbed your cheek with her free hand and you nuzzled into it.

”Are you okay?” Emily asked while drying your tears with her thumb and continuing to stroke your cheek with a soft touch. You nodded and kissed her hand, making her eyes threaten to water too after the sweet gesture. You had never felt so loved before.

”Thank you for being there for me”, you said, your voice breaking a little as you thought about all the ways Emily had shown you how much she cares. You took her hand in yours and smiled when you felt her intertwining your fingers. You wished she’d never let go. You knew you wouldn’t.

”Always.”

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #mine: writing

371 notes · View notes

ro-is-struggling · 2 years ago

Text

Slow Hands || Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer gets tired of pretending he doesn't notice the way you look at his hands, so when you show up at his hotel room late at night he decides to ask you about it.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, porn without plot, hand kink, size kink kinda?, praise kink, Dom/sub dynamics (gentle dom Spencer x sub reader), dirty talk, pet names (good girl, baby, dirty little girl, slut), fingering, overstimulation, penetrative sex, choking, slight dacryphilia, a little fluff at the end, female reader, kinda rushed ending

English is not my first language

Word count: 6800

Notes: Spencer is a gentle dom and you can’t change my mind.

Also pictures aren't mine, I just put them together. I took them from this post (the one that inspired this fic) and also from this one so full credits to them!

"Why do you always stare at my hands?" The question escaped Spencer's lips before he could stop it. You had come to his hotel room to discuss something about the case you were working on and the whole time you had been staring at his hands.

It wasn't the first time you had done that, he had caught you staring at his hands in the past. It seemed that whatever he did with them you found interesting. He had never said anything to you because he honestly didn't know how to approach the subject without it sounding strange, but he was aware of what you were doing. The same way he knew you didn't admire anyone else's hands the same way you admired his, something that sparked a warmth inside him.

Spencer was pretty sure he knew why you looked at his hands so much, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"Oh," you mumbled in embarrassment, startled at being caught. "I don't know, I think they're pretty." You shrugged, looking everywhere but at Spencer. "I like hands."

"You like hands?" He repeated, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"I know it sounds weird but it's not! Some people notice someone's smile first or maybe their eyes or laugh, I tend to notice people's hands." It was a half-truth. Yes, you used to pay more attention to people's hands than most, but that wasn't the real reason for your inability to take your eyes off his hands. But since you couldn't admit that you dreamed every night of feeling the touch of his long, slender fingers on your skin, you thought that explanation would satisfy his curiosity and save you from the humiliation of the truth.

"Why do you like my hands so much?" Spencer insisted and you struggled to stop your mind before it got lost in the endless fantasies involving his hands that haunted you at night when you were alone in your bed.

"I don't know. They're pretty, I guess." You tried to downplay it, hoping that would be enough to ease his curiosity.

"Pretty how?" Spencer asked you and when you looked up to meet his eyes you saw a dark glint in them. He was up to something, you could see it in the innocent little smile plastered on his lips. He was pushing you to give him an answer for a special reason that you didn't know, but you assumed it couldn't be anything good for you.

Your brain was screaming at you not to take the bait, that it was dangerous and stupid. The smartest thing to do would be to find an excuse to go back to your room, where you would be safe from Spencer and his tricks. But you had never been that smart. Curiosity got the better of you, so you ignored your brain and took the bait.

"Well, for starters, your hands are big." You spoke in the most casual tone possible, trying to hide your embarrassment and excitement as you took one of his hands between yours to compare sizes.

You rarely had the opportunity to hold Spencer's hand, so feeling the warmth of his palm against yours awakened a wave of electricity that coursed down your spine. You swallowed hard, struggling to control yourself as you admired the difference in size between your hands. Even though you had long nails you weren't able to shorten the difference in length between his fingers and yours, Spencer's still stood tall against yours, which barely touched the middle phalanx of his fingers. You thought it was impossible, but his hand seemed even larger when compared to yours.

"And that's a good thing?" His soft, low voice shook you awake from your trance, lifting your gaze to look at him for a moment before returning your focus to his hands.

"Yes, especially for a guy," you said, trying to act natural under his intense gaze. "But you also have beautiful fingers. They're long and slender... perfectly balanced with the size of your palm." Your fingers traced his as you spoke, delicately caressing the skin of his hand with your fingertips. You could feel his eyes on you, following your every move. If you kept quiet you could hear his deep breathing quicken a little more with each caress you gave him, just like your heartbeat.

Spencer knew what kind of ideas the size of his fingers sparked in your imagination and he would be lying if he said he didn't have the same fantasies from time to time. It was actually embarrassing how many times he had masturbated imagining having his fingers buried deep in the warmth of your core —you moaning his name and begging him for more while he used his expert fingers to make you feel pleasure in a way no other man had ever done.

"But I also like the veins in the back of your hand." Your voice brought him out of his thoughts just in time, a few more seconds lost in his fantasies and his pants were going to start feeling a little tight. "I like the way the veins mark on your skin." Your fingers traced the lines on the back of his hand, following the paths that led up his arm, where the rolled up sleeve of his shirt prevented you from continuing.

Your fingers lingered on his arm longer than necessary, taking the opportunity to memorize the texture of his skin, the warmth of his body and the way his closeness made you feel in case you never had the chance to touch him like that again. The room fell into complete silence as you shared an intimate moment, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of your slightly accelerated breathing. There was a tension in the air that you had never felt before being with Spencer, but you barely paid attention to it as you lost yourself in your fantasies, your mind finally surrendering to your wild imagination.

But then the sound of a speeding car coming through the window distracted you from your thoughts. You pulled your hands away from Spencer quickly as you realized what you had done, ashamed of yourself for losing control like that. However, when you looked up to meet his eyes you didn't notice anything strange about them. He didn't seem to be bothered or uncomfortable by your behavior. No. You just saw that sparkle again, shining in his hazel eyes with increasing clarity.

Spencer's gaze didn't leave you as he moved his hand closer to you. You remained frozen in place, holding your breath without even realizing it as you waited to see what he was scheming. His fingers took a lock of your hair that fell over your face, playing with it for a bit before he gently tucked it behind your ear. Your heart was beating faster and faster and your brain was working hard to decipher what Spencer was thinking. You enjoyed the attention you were getting from him, but your impatient nature needed to know where he was going with all this.

However, your brain was fried the moment Spencer's hand cupped your cheek. You even forgot how to breathe as you felt his long, slender fingers caress the skin of your face. You closed your eyes instinctively, leaning into his touch as you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment. The warmth of his hand awakened a tingling sensation that spread all over your face following the path of his fingers, from your cheek bone, down to your jaw, across your chin and up to your lips. It was ridiculous how he could have you melting under his touch with the simplest of caresses. He had so much power over you... and you liked it.

You opened your eyes when you felt Spencer's thumb caress your lower lip. Your eyes met for a moment, feeling small under his intense gaze. He had never acted that way with you before, much less looked at you with the hunger reflected in his hazel orbs. And you liked it. You liked feeling small under his watchful eye. You liked feeling completely at his mercy. You liked knowing that he owned you even if he didn't realize it.

"I feel the same way about your lips," Spencer announced, staring at your mouth as his thumb continued his caresses, tracing the shape of your lips. "I love how soft they look, always tempting me to kiss them... especially when you stick your tongue out to wet them... or when you bite your lower lip when you're deep in thought. It takes all my willpower not to cross the room and kiss you right then and there."

Spencer's voice was soft and seductive, the slightly deeper than normal tone going straight to your core, which tightened around nothing, desperate for attention. There was nothing dirty in his words —he was just declaring how much he wanted to kiss you— and yet you could feel the wetness beginning to stain your underwear. There was something about his voice, the way he was talking to you and the softness of his touch on your lips that felt highly erotic. Spencer seemed to know exactly what to say and what to do to have you at his mercy. He had you in a trance, frozen in place as you eagerly awaited his next move. There wasn't a single thought in your head, just him and your desire to feel his hands all over your body.

"And don't even get me started on those lipsticks you wear," he continued, applying a little more pressure on your lips as he dragged his thumb across them, smearing lipstick on the corners of your lips. "This one is my favorite."

You parted your lips to try to breathe. You were starting to feel lightheaded, unable to move or speak under Spencer's intense stare. You wanted to, god knew there were a lot of things you wanted to say to him at that moment, but you couldn't do it. Your brain was fried, your body vibrating with anticipation. Part of you still couldn't believe what was happening, so you thought it would be best to keep your mouth shut. You would let him guide you, show you what he wanted from you. You'd be lying if you said that wasn't exactly what you wanted.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt Spencer's thumb push into your mouth. You closed your lips around the digit without even thinking about it, your tongue caressing his skin in an act of pure instinct. Your mind didn't process what was happening until you heard him moan softly.

"Good girl," he praised you and you couldn't help but moan over his finger, pure pleasure vibrating throughout your body. "I always suspected that behind that strong, combative attitude of yours was hiding a good, obedient girl... I didn't even have to tell you to suck, you already knew what to do."

A wave of pleasure ran through your body at his words, feeling proud to hear him call you a good girl. That's all you ever wanted to be, his good girl, and now that you finally had the chance to prove it to him you weren't going to waste it. You sucked on his finger harder to show him how much you loved his compliments, hollowing out your cheeks as your tongue played with his digit wishing it was his cock instead.

"I’ve wanted this for so long, you have no idea," Spencer sighed.

Oh but you did know. You knew exactly what he meant because you had wanted him for so long too. Every second you spent with him was torture, not only because you fantasized about feeling his hands on your body all the time, but also because you had to pretend you didn't in a room filled with skilled profilers.

But there was no more of that. You didn't have to worry anymore because his hands were finally on your body and it felt even better than you had imagined.

"Will you be my good girl tonight?" Spencer asked you, his voice barely a whisper as he moved closer to you.

You almost fainted when you felt his warm breath crash against your face, feeling even smaller under his gaze now that he was closer to you. When he removed his thumb from your mouth you had to bite your tongue to keep from letting out a whimper in protest.

"Answer me!" he demanded in a firm but soft tone that managed to snap your brain out of its trance.

"Yes," you rushed to say, maintaining eye contact with Spencer at all times. "I want to be your good girl, please."

You barely managed to get the words out before Spencer's lips crashed against yours in a kiss full of passion and desperation. You didn't even try to fight for dominance, surrendering to him without him having to ask. You let his lips guide yours, melting under the caresses of his tongue. His hands gripped each side of your face, using his hold to tilt your head so he could deepen the kiss.

It was all happening so fast you barely had time to process it, your poor brain working hard to keep up with the torturous rhythm of Spencer's lips. The kiss was much rougher than you would have imagined from someone like him. He always looked so sweet and innocent it was hard to believe he had such a dark side. But you loved every second of it. You loved knowing that he had chosen to share that side with you.

"Stand up," he ordered you as he pulled away from your lips. His kiss had left you a little stupid, so it took you a few seconds to process his words. But he didn't seem to mind. On the contrary, Spencer seemed proud of himself. He loved the effect he had on you as much as you did.

Spencer stood next to you, standing in front of you. You looked up into his eyes, patiently awaiting his next command. You lost yourself in the beautiful hazel color of his orbs for a moment, noticing a flash of his usual sweet, tender glow mixed in with all the desire and lust. That soothed the nerves that were beginning to form in your stomach from the anticipation, remembering that behind the darkness in his eyes was your Spencer, the one who always opened doors for you and brought you coffee without you asking him for it when you were stuck in the office late at night doing paperwork.

He took his time removing your clothes, his hands caressing and kissing every inch of skin he uncovered, showering you with compliments. He even knelt down in front of you to properly remove your shoes, pants and panties, taking the time to caress your calves and deposit a kiss on each of your thighs before rising back up. Spencer was tall, much taller than you. His figure towered over yours in an imposing way, but his soft and gentle touch helped you not to feel self-conscious in front of him, even when he was fully clothed and you were not. The gentleness with which he was treating you contrasted with the hardness of his kisses, but it was a change you gladly welcomed. Although it did make you wonder what he had planned for later.

"You're so beautiful," Spencer murmured against the skin of your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as his hands roamed your body. His fingers caressed your skin ever so gently, trailing up your arm all the way to your shoulder. He paused at your neck for a moment and a shiver ran down your spine as you imagined him closing his fingers over your throat, applying pressure until it was hard to breathe. But before you could put voice to your desires, his hand wandered down your back, fiddling with your bra before unclasping it.

"Spence, please." You begged in a whisper when you couldn't stand the anticipation any longer. As much as you enjoyed the attention of his hands on your body, you needed more. Much more. Your pussy was crying for attention, staining your underwear with your arousal.

Your broken voice went straight to Spencer's cock, your desperation was music to his ears, but he managed to keep his composure. He wanted to take his time with you. "What is it, baby? What do you want?" he asked in an almost condescending tone. He knew very well what you wanted, but he wanted to hear you say it.

“I want you,” you replied, not caring about how pathetic your voice sounded. You were desperate for some relief and were willing to do anything to get it. "I need you to touch me... to make me feel good."

Spencer didn't need to be told twice. He settled down on the bed again —his long legs stretched out on the comforter and his back resting against the bed frame— and gestured for you to sit on his lap. When you moved closer he turned you over, helping you to settle onto his body until you ended up sitting with your back against his chest. He used his legs to spread yours apart, opening them as wide as he could. You hated not being able to see his face easily, but the new position was exciting anyway. You could feel his hard cock twitching against your ass and had a privileged view of his hand as he slowly moved closer to where you needed it most.

"You're so wet already and I barely touched you," Spencer whispered against your ear, his breath brushing your skin as his fingers began to toy with your clit. "Is this all for me?"

"Y-yes,"you managed to mumble between ragged breaths, struggling to control the sounds of pleasure escaping your lips. You were in a hotel room and the rest of your co-workers were sleeping in the rooms next to yours. The last thing you wanted was to be discovered.

"No, don't hold back. I want to hear you moan. I want to know how good I'm making you feel." Spencer was desperate to hear you moan his name, it was all he had ever wanted from the first moment he saw you. He dreamed of your whimpers of pleasure, but they never felt real enough. His mind could never recreate the beautiful melody of your voice to perfection. But he could remember it forever if he could hear you.

Spencer increased the speed of his fingers and you weren't able to contain the moan that escaped your lips, nor the many others that followed. But even if you could, you wouldn't have done it because he wanted to hear you and his wishes were your command. Your body belonged to him in its entirety, you were his to do with you as he wished.

"Good girl," he praised you, using his free hand to push your hair to the side so he could kiss and nibble on your neck. Each thing he did brought you a little closer to the edge. It was as if he had studied your body in preparation for this moment, as if he knew exactly what buttons to push to have you making a mess under his touch.

"Is this what you wanted?" Spencer growled against your ear, feeling his cock throbbing under the movements of your ass. Pure pleasure coursed through his veins as he listened to the whimpers escaping your lips. "Is this what you imagined every time you looked at my hands?"

"Yes! F-fuck, yes." Your voice came out in a broken moan, your brain fighting the haze of pleasure to form coherent sentences. Spencer was bringing you near climax in record time, you could feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter. You didn't know how he was doing it, but you didn't want him to ever stop. "I thought about having your fingers deep inside me all this time and, f-fuck, and how good they would feel reaching places mime can't... yes! Just like that."

As if Spencer was using your fantasies as a guide, he slipped his middle and ring fingers inside you. Your velvety walls received them gladly, clasping around them to keep them there forever. Just as you had imagined, his long fingers felt wonderful, filling you in a way yours could not, and they reached that spongy place inside you in a matter of seconds making you see stars every time they caressed it.

"Oh god, Spence it feels so good... please" you murmured between moans and heaving breaths, gripping onto your lover's arm for support. Your body was on fire, your mind lost in pleasure. It all felt like too much and not enough at the same time. You were desperate to find that sweet relief, moving your hips against Spencer's hand to reach your climax.

"You're gonna cum for me like the good girl you are?" He spoke against your neck, biting into your skin and drawing a moan of pleasure from you. "You're gonna cum all over my fingers?"

"Yes! Yes, please, I wanna cum so bad," you begged him on the verge of tears and Spencer couldn't help but growl against your skin. Knowing that he was capable of making you cry out in pleasure with his fingers alone awakened something primal in him. The desperate sounds escaping your lips were the hottest thing he had ever heard and suddenly it became his mission to keep you crying with pleasure for as long as he possibly could.

Spencer increased the rhythm of his fingers and applied pressure to your clit with his palm so each time he moved his hand you would receive twice as much stimulation. "C'mon baby, cum for me," he encouraged you and his permission was all you needed to collapse into his arms.

Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through your body, which was squirming under Spencer's skilled hands that kept fucking you through your orgasm. Your lungs were screaming for air, but it was impossible for you to catch your breath. The world around you became a blur for a moment and the only thing your pleasure clouded brain was able to process was Spencer's voice praising you as his hands caressed your body.

"That's it... that's my good girl." You smiled, enjoying his compliments as you tried to catch your breath.

But then you felt the hand that was still in your pussy begin to move once more. They were slow thrusts of his fingers inside you, but it was still a lot for your abused cunt, too sensitive from the orgasm it had just had. Your hand clutched at his wrist to try to stop it, but as you opened your eyes and looked down you couldn't help but let out a moan. You were convinced that there was no more erotic sight than that of his veiny hand buried in your pussy, moving in and out of you, giving you a glimpse of his skin glistening with your arousal in the dim light of the room.

"One more," Spencer told you, tugging on your hair to force your head back so you could look at him. It was a little rough, but you loved it, the pain going straight to your center. "I want one more and then I'll fuck you."

"I can't... too much" you tried to say, but your body betrayed you. Your pussy was dripping with excitement, your walls clinging to Spencer's fingers with desperation. Your hips were moving to his rhythm, following his lead and not yours. Your body no longer responded to you, it no longer belonged to you. It now belonged to Spencer and if he wanted you to cum one more time then you would.

"You can, I know you can," he encouraged you in a soft voice that contrasted with the roughness of his movements. He kissed you, his lips pressing against yours with a desperation that took what little breath you still had, and you surrendered completely to him. You stopped fighting your body's urges, trusting that Spencer knew what was best for you. He always did.

"That's it, baby. Let go for me, c'mon. I want to feel you cum on my fingers one more time." His words went straight to your pussy, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. It wasn't long before you started to feel like it was too much. Your legs shook uncontrollably with pleasure, but when you tried to close them Spencer didn't let you, using his to keep you wide open for him.

"'S too much… too much… can't" you mumbled incoherently as you felt the pleasure take over your whole body. Tears of utter pleasure streamed down your cheeks, each movement of your lover's hand bringing you closer to the edge you weren't sure you'd be able to cross.

"Shh you're okay, you're okay" he reassured you, showering his kisses all over your neck and shoulder as he used his free hand to hold you in place. "You can do it. C'mon, I got you."

You clung to Spencer's arm as you braced yourself for the explosion of pleasure that was coming, your nails digging little half moons into his porcelain skin. He held you in place as your body shook violently as your second orgasm hit you, enjoying the incoherent cries of pleasure escaping your lips as you soaked his fingers with your arousal. It was music to his ears, the sweetest melody he had ever heard.

"That's it, such a good girl for me." He praised you, but you were too lost to process his words. Your mind was completely lost in a fog of pure bliss, the world around you forgotten as your body twitched with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You could barely breathe and you couldn't remember your own name, but a smile formed on your face. Those had been the best orgasms of your life and you hadn't even had Spencer inside you yet.

"There you are!" you heard him say next to you. When you opened your eyes you discovered that at some point he had moved you, and now you were lying on the bed with him staring at you at your side. "Are you okay?"

His voice was soft as his fingers gently caressed your cheek. It was quite a change from the man who minutes before was demanding you cum on his fingers, but you liked it. He was more like the usual Spencer and that was what you needed at that moment as you recovered from the two most intense orgasms of your life.

"I'm fine," you assured him with an ecstatic smile. You really were. Spencer had demanded a lot from you, but in the best possible way.

"Do you want to stop? Just say the word and I'll let you go to sleep."

"What? No, please, I want to feel you inside me." You begged with glazed eyes and Spencer let out a chuckle.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" he asked, looking at you with a raised eyebrow and you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes! Please, I want to make you feel good. I want to be your good girl."

Spencer silenced your pleas with a kiss, his lips caressing yours ever so gently. Unlike the previous times, when desire, passion and desperation prevailed, this kiss was slow and sensual. He was taking his time to enjoy the moment, memorizing every little detail of your lips and your reactions to the caresses of his tongue. He wanted to experience everything with you, the urgency of passion and desire, as well as the tenderness of such an intimate moment. He wanted it all with you.

When he pulled away you let out a whimper in protest, missing his warmth the moment he got out of bed. However your protests were silenced when you rose up on your elbows and discovered that he was undressing. Before that moment you didn't think it was possible that the image of a man loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt could be so erotic, but Spencer proved you wrong. Your mind raced wildly with the thought of everything he could do to you with that tie or the belt, which fell to the floor with a metallic clank as he peeled off the layers of clothing.

Anticipation bubbled up inside you once again as you stared at Spencer crawling towards you, looking at you like an animal at its prey. He gave you one last slow, tender kiss before settling between your legs, taking his cock in his hands and stroking it a couple of times before lining it up with your entrance.

"You ready, baby?" he asked you one more time to make sure you were okay, his voice no more than a raspy whisper that awakened a new wave of arousal inside you.

"Yes, please."

He was gentle as he entered you, giving you time to adjust to the size of his member as he enjoyed the warmth of your velvety walls. You both let out a moan as he bottomed out, your pussy tightening around his cock as you felt him deep inside you.

"So tight and warm for me," Spencer growled in your ear as he began to move, slowly dragging his cock almost all the way out before slamming back inside you with a quick, punishing thrust. "Taking me so well."

It was clear from the erratic, desperate rhythm of his hips that Spencer wasn't going to last long. He was so worked up after having you wriggling on his cock as you came twice that he was already close to the edge. But he still tried his best to drag the moment out as long as he could, thoroughly enjoying the way you had surrendered to him completely. He hadn't even had to ask you, you had simply accepted your role, desperate to be his good girl just as he had imagined.

"You look so pretty like this, making a mess on my cock as I fuck you stupid," he praised you as he noticed your moans increasing in volume and incoherence. He felt you tighten around his member, letting out a pathetic moan of pleasure as you increased the rhythm of your hips, which moved against his in search of your orgasm.

"Feels s-so good, Spence… please." A couple of tears escaped your eyes as you begged him for relief, awakening that primal desire deep inside him again. There was something so erotic about the way you were moaning for him, crying for his cock, begging him to bring you to your climax one more time. You looked completely ruined, mascara running down your face and lipstick smeared across your lips after so many kisses, and he was the cause of it all. He was the one you were moaning for. He was the one you cried for. He was the one you begged for more even though you were completely ruined. He was the one who was making you feel so good. He and only he. You belonged to him.

"You want to cum again, huh?" Spencer spoke in a condescending tone as he increased the pace and roughness of his thrusts. "Two orgasms are not enough for my girl? Is that it?"

You tried to ignore the way it made you feel to hear him call you 'his girl', attributing the warm feeling that spread through your body to desire and arousal. Though deep down you knew there was something more pure and innocent behind your reaction.

"Please, don't stop. I'm so close, f-fuck." The pleasure was overwhelming, coursing through your entire body, consuming every cell of your being. Your vision was blurring again, the tight knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

Then Spencer lowered one of his hands to where your bodies joined as one, his fingers losing themselves in your wetness as they played with your clit. Your body began to twitch beneath his, your moans increasing in volume and quantity as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the sweet relief. You reached out to him, grabbing his arm in an attempt to ground yourself, frightened by the force of the powerful orgasm that threatened to destroy you completely.

"I know, baby, I know." Spencer comforted your incoherent cries of pleasure, feeling your whole body tighten around his to hold him in place. The warm walls of your cunt clenched around his throbbing cock with every movement he made. Your legs hooked around his hips, pulling him even closer against you, his cock reaching deeper inside you with each thrust. You were both so close to cumming, but he wanted to feel you come undone around him first.

"Just let go for me, I got you."

You moaned his name, appreciating the tenderness in his voice as he encouraged you to cum. But you needed more, something to push you over the edge. And you knew exactly what that was.

Loosening your grip on his arm, you guided him up your body to where you needed him. Your hand rested on top of his as you gently settled it on your exposed neck, closing your fingers —and his— over your throat in an attempt to make him understand what you wanted.

Spencer looked at you with a surprised look, but you could see that flash of darkness shining in his eyes that let you know he liked the idea as much as you did. "Are you sure?" he asked you to make sure you were both on the same page about it.

"Please," you begged him with glazed eyes and Spencer felt his cock throbbing inside your pussy, feeling his orgasm approaching. You were definitely the perfect woman for him.

He began by applying a little pressure to the sides of your throat, feeling your veins pumping blood under his fingers. His hand was so big that he could almost wrap it around your entire neck, giving him a sense of power that awakened a wave of pleasure that coursed through his entire body. Knowing that you trusted him enough to let him choke you gave him a strange sense of relief. He wasn't the only one.

But what really sealed the deal for him was hearing your strangled moans as he applied enough force to limit your breathing a bit.

"You're such a dirty little girl... you like getting fucked like a slut, huh?" Spencer asked the question on purpose, knowing you weren't going to be able to respond other than incoherent sounds from both the pleasure you were feeling and the pressure he was putting on your throat. But he knew you loved it, he could feel it in the way you were clenching down on his member.

"Cum for me, c'mon. I want to feel you making a mess on my cock." His command was all you needed to let yourself be consumed by pleasure, the combination of his dirty words, his punishing thrusts and the pressure he exerted on your throat finally pushing you over the edge.

Your whole body trembled beneath his as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through every inch of your body. You felt like you were on fire, floating in pure bliss as you heard Spencer praising you in the distance.

"That's my good girl, doing such a great job for me." Spencer's movements became more erratic and sloppy as he chased his own orgasm. His grip on your neck softened, but you didn't let him move his hand from there, grabbing his wrist to hold him in place.

"Please Spence, I want you to fill me up... I want to feel you cum inside me, pleaseee," you begged him with what little strength you had left, trying to push him over the edge. You looked at him with half-closed, slightly unfocused eyes, completely lost in the pleasure that flooded your insides. It was the hottest image Spencer had ever seen. You were ruined, so fucked out that you could barely think, and he was the one to blame for that.

You whimpered from the overstimulation, the sweet sound of your raspy moans driving him over the edge. He came with a grunt of pleasure, emptying his load inside you. He painted your velvety walls with rope after rope of cum, enough that the pearly white liquid trickled down your thighs and onto the bed. Spencer earned one last moan from you as he pulled out of you, collapsing beside you as you both struggled to catch your breath.

"Are you okay?" he asked you as he regained the ability to form coherent sentences. He shifted his body towards you, rising up on his arm and resting his head in his palm so he could look at you. "I wasn't too rough, was I?"

"No, no. You were perfect." You were quick to say, opening your eyes and turning to face him. He had his soft, innocent expression back, looking at you with adoration as he analyzed your face to make sure you were telling the truth. If it weren't for the smell of sex that flooded the room you would find it hard to believe that he was the same man who had fucked you until you forgot your own name.

"Everything was perfect." You added with a satisfied smile on your face that he mimicked.

A silence formed as you tried to process what had happened. Now that your mind was clear of the fog of desire and passion that blocked your thinking you realized the position you had put yourselves in. You were friends and co-workers and at the time you had no way of knowing how this slip-up was going to affect both relationships. You figured you would have time to sort it out, but for now you needed to get out of there before you fell asleep and the rest of the team discovered you leaving the same room in the morning. So you carefully got up, holding onto the bed frame until your legs got used to supporting the weight of your body again, and looked for your clothes that had been left behind, scattered on the floor of the room.

"What are you doing?" Spencer asked, watching you struggle to put your underwear back on.

"Putting my clothes back on?" you replied as if it were obvious, grabbing your shirt off the floor. "I need it. Unless you want me to walk down the hallway naked I-"

"Stay," he interrupted you, grabbing your hand to force you to stop. "Please." He sounded so soft and vulnerable that there was no way you could say no, even though you knew it was a terrible idea.

“What about the team?”

“We can wake up a little earlier so you can sneak back to your room.”

You weren't fully convinced. There were a lot of things that could go wrong —what if you were called away in the middle of the night? how would you explain that you were not in your room but in Spencer's room sleeping with him if one of your co-workers knocked on your door before you got back?—, but Spencer kissed you and all concerns left your system. You let the soft movement of his lips quiet the voices in your head, surrendering to his charms once again.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up so we can go to sleep." He whispered against your lips, giving you one last short kiss before guiding you to the shower. You let him take care of you, allowing him to wash your hair and carefully massage the soap over your body, and in gratitude you did the same for him. The tenderness and intimacy of sharing a shower contrasted with the rough sex you had had, but you liked it. The same way you liked sleeping snuggled in his arms. He was your favorite pillow, the warmest and most comfortable blanket you had ever slept with.

You were pretty sure you couldn't go back to normal after discovering how happy it made you feel to be surrounded in Spencer's arms, but you were okay with that. You had plenty of time to talk about your future in the morning. For now all you wanted to do was enjoy the moment, letting your lover's deep breaths lull you to sleep.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds

6K notes · View notes

postmodernbeliever · 9 months ago

Text

little darling- fox mulder x female reader (SMUT OH MY GOD…)

fox mulder knows how badly you want to be touched, to be taken care of, and he is obsessed with being the first and only guy to do it.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

my ao3 | word count: 6,071

content tags: smut, smut so good in my brain it came out poetic?, loss of virginity, virginity kink, dom fox mulder, protective gentle extremely horny fox mulder, embarrassment, sexual fantasy, plus size reader gets sooooo much love, im blushing just posting this aaaaaaa, oh some religious bits bc catholic girls are freaky and also his sex is THAT good, cross-posted on ao3

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

fox knew it was wrong, and he didn’t care. he knew how he thought about you, how he touched you in his mind, how he wanted to possess you was culpable- but then again, how shameful could it truly be? how bad was it to want to take care of you, to teach you the right way, to want to show you how good love is supposed to feel? well, maybe it wasn’t completely pure, because he nearly came untouched just thinking about you sometimes, but he just couldn’t help himself. he wanted to. he wanted to be the one you chose to give yourself to. the only one.

it was always in the most mundane moments, like this one, that he needed it most, which played into his guilt. soft moments where you were unaware of what you were saying or doing, clueless as to how you were making him feel. now, as you sat watching the sex scene from basic instinct while fox pretended to be filling out a case file at his desk, was one of those moments. you squirmed in your seat with a sweet blush on your cheeks, watching the slight caricature of sharon stone on top of michael douglas, pupils blown wide and trying to hide your interest. fox was doing his best not to move a muscle, but he felt like a vein would pop if he didn’t turn around to look at you. his stomach was twisting itself into hot, trembling knots just wondering what the scene was doing to you.

you’ve been dating him for a few months now, and upon meeting him, you fell in love in a way you still didn’t understand. he did, too. he idolizes you, he holds you up above everyone else to his detriment. after the first few dates, you told him that you wanted to take the physical aspects of the relationship slow because you had personal obstacles to overcome; he promised to do so, because when you look at him, his entire world glows, and he refused to jeopardize that heaven you unraveled. but he’s learned a lot about you since then simply through deduction. the few risqué movies you’ve watched with him proved through the surprise on your face that you hadn’t seen much video porn, let alone been touched; the books you tried to hide in your purse had absurd covers with the lustful silhouettes of cowboys and prairie girls, corporate bosses and assistants, big looming over small against some dark backdrop– all of it meaning that when you were alone, you fantasized. but the most telling was when fox himself touched you, albeit innocently. it was like you’d never been touched by anything before. when fox’s fingers ghosted over your knuckles as he held your hand, you’d giggle like a schoolgirl, hiding your face in your shoulder. even better, when he brought those same hands to the soft, warm apples of your cheeks, you’d shudder, melting into his touch like you’d lost your volition. it didn't matter how he did it- if his hands were on you in some capacity, your breath hitched in your throat like a fool.

you wanted to let him touch you. there wasn’t a thing in the world you wanted more than to let him give you all of the things you’d dreamed, all of the things he must be aching to, but it was difficult for you. it seemed no amount of love was enough to break down your walls– you’d never let anyone that close. you’d always struggled with your body and your worth, and the little dating experience you’d had wasn’t much to boast about. you weren’t what people wanted, even if you were deserving. you knew fox was different, and that to him you weren't too big or not pretty enough, but you had just about every anxiety about physical affection. he had no idea you were a virgin on top of it all, which only made the pressure greater. you just couldn’t get over the fear. but you yearned to have it, so much so that even the smallest instances set your body aflame. you had the most lewd things running through your head when fox did just about anything. once you watched the man reach for the cereal box on the top shelf in his kitchen, and his sleep shirt rode up to reveal the dark happy trail that disappeared down his pants, and you felt so dizzy you could’ve dropped dead. and whenever he was close, it was unbearable. you replayed the sensation of his strong, lean hands resting protectively over your hip at his friend’s house. you thought about the way his lips felt on your forehead so often you could’ve written a book based solely on the texture. it drove you insane, the way you wanted him, and you drove yourself insane every time you didn’t act on it. but what did you know of hands, of mouths, of letting someone see what you shroud in fabric every day? what did you know of making him feel good, too, of being worth the wait for him?

now, as you curled up on his couch, you watched michael douglas’ hand grip sharon stone’s leg. it was big, but not big like fox’s. you imagined it was your boyfriend on the television, dark and brooding, as you saw how the man dove between the blonde’s legs, starving; her back arched, propelling her hips forward into his face, and she let out a soft moan. in your head, you saw yourself on that bed, and fox as hungry. you squeezed your thighs together and gathered the blanket draped across your legs in your palms, trying not to look as overwhelmed as you felt. but the agent who listened to the heavy breathing on screen saw exactly what was happening to you. he saw the blood rushing to the tips of your ears, tinting them the color of your bitten lips; he saw the way you shifted rhythmically beneath the blanket, almost undetectable, but absolutely undeniable. fox looked up at the ceiling as if to thank the god he didn’t believe in for playing basic instinct on cable, and he stood up from the desk, stalking over to sit beside you on the couch. as his body made the cushions dip, you smiled nervously. through a cracking voice, you said, “i didn’t know this movie was all… y’know.”

‘oh, yeah, it’s pretty heavy,” fox nodded, attempting his best unassuming expression. “still good, though, huh?”

“i mean, sure,”

“yeah, i think so, too.”

fox sighed just a tad too loudly and let his hand fall on your thigh. nothing but the blanket was between his palm and your skin. you looked to him with a pleading pair of eyes, though you didn’t really know what you were pleading for. the moaning from the television got louder, and you felt so warm, and his hand wasn’t going anywhere. you had no idea what to do. fox grinned at you and let his head tilt back over the couch as he swallowed thickly. you stared at the curve of his stately neck, how his adam’s apple bobbed, and every inch of your body pined in his wake. fox gazed at you, lounged wide like a lion, and his hand slowly traveled up your thigh to the crease of your hip. he slid his fingers across the soft crevice, and you were still at a statue, stuck between craving the friction and terrified to feel it.

“can i ask you something personal?” fox’s voice was gentle. husky.

“...mhm.”

“has anyone ever, uh,” you followed his gaze to the tv, where michael douglas was doing things that made your hands sweat. “have you ever done it like that?”

you prayed that a black hole would open up in the floor and suck you in, so you never had to admit the truth. but his hand was still in that soft spot, and his minty eyes were made of looking glass, and the image of him that fucked your mind was so boggling you were on the edge of giving up.

“just out of curiosity,” he added, lips curling into a cheshire smile.

you ran a hand across your burning cheeks and murmured, “uh, no. no, i haven't.”

“it’s interesting, y’know, how they can make it look so real,” fox pursed his lips, pushing his hand back down your thigh to rest on your knee.

before you could bite your tongue, you confided, “i wouldn’t really know.”

fox’s hand paused at the crest of your kneecap, a chill running down his body. he thought of you, his pretty, quiet, gentle girl, and he never once stopped to think why you were so reserved. he always blamed the little silver cross that hung from your neck and some guy from your past, but he neglected other options. but now, his mouth watered.

“really?”

you tugged the blanket up to your face. “is that a bad thing?”

the man turned to face you, pulling your hands away to reveal the flushed face beneath. you were breathing so heavily. a need rattled his bones, one he wished he could stifle. pictures flashed in his brain- you, writhing beneath him, the feeling so new, making pretty faces as he did what the people in movies do. him, defiling you, ruining the girl you’ve been, clutching to your cross as your mouth bled with his name. maybe he was a monster, but his cock twitched in his dress pants at the humiliated expression you bore.

“no, baby, of course not!” he chuckled, “no, that’s– that’s a good thing.”

“but i-”

“everyone does things at their own pace,”

“but…”

“but what, sweetheart? i don’t expect anything from you.” fox sweetly lied. he wouldn’t force it, but he wanted it. badly.

“i just wish that, uh, that i had by now. sometimes. i guess.”

your eyes darted between the television screen and the way his nimble fingers encased both of your wrists. it only took one hand for him to hold you down… what a career he could make with his other hand free.

“have you ever tried?”

“...no.”

“do you want to?”

you let out a nervous hum. something came over you like it always does, and you leaned over to hide in his shoulder; in a way, that was better than letting him see your face. his hand rested at the nape of your neck as he cooed, “awh, baby, it’s okay.”

“it’s not really okay,” you mumbled into his shirt. “it’s embarrassing.”

“i don’t think it is. i think it’s cute.”

you felt his hand run down your back, and you pushed yourself a little closer, so you could rest against his neck. fox kept talking since you were at a loss.

“nothing embarrassing about that, i promise. truthfully, you’re better off. so many guys out there just wanna take advantage, y’know?” he reasoned, tracing little things at the small of your back, fingertips like pens. “probably would’ve wished you didn’t, because you’re so hard on yourself… i would hate to know you lost your virginity to some guy who didn’t care about you. not the way i do.”

the heat of your breath against his neck was maddening. everything about you was maddening. how you curled into him for protection, for reassurance, how your palms tugged at the wrinkled cotton of his work shirt because you didn’t know where to put them. the little nods of agreement you made with every opinion he voiced. he wanted to knock you on your back and fuck you right there, but he couldn’t. he couldn’t spring it on you. you had to want it, you had to let him. and he knew you wanted to let him because it was all over you.

he asked again, “baby, do you want to?”

he raised his wandering hand to tuck your hair behind your ear, and you felt this urge inside you, an indulgence just begging to be released. acting selfishly, you pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, and beneath your lips, you felt the vibration of a little growl. fox tangled his palm in your hair, and as gently as he could, he pulled your head back so you had no choice but to look at him.

“is that a yes?”

your stomach churned. “yes.”

“good. come on.”

fox rose from the couch and tugged you up with him. he watched the blanket fall from your legs to see that your sleep shorts had ridden up and tucked themselves in the chub of where your thighs and legs met, that sacred spot he’d touched before, and he rolled his eyes in ardor. with your shaky hand in his, the man led you into his bedroom, where he motioned for you to sit at the edge of the bed.

“fox, i…”

“what, love?”

“i… i don’t know.”

you watched him walk over to his closet and open the doors, revealing the shuffled-around mess inside. with his back turned to you, you saw his hands disappear to unbutton the dress shirt that crumpled on his shoulders from a day’s work. as he pulled it over his head, the spotless skin of his sculpted back smiled at you. your hips were warm.

“you’re nervous,” he said, still facing away as he threw the shirt into the basket. “i know you are. but it’s not so scary. plus, you’re with me. i’m nice, aren’t i?” “you’re very nice,” you smiled, “but you’ve done this before. you… you know so much more than i do.”

“are you sure?” fox’s laugh rumbled low in his throat, “because i’ve seen the books you read. bet you’ve got all kinds of ideas i’ve never even tried before.”

you shifted on the bed, tucking your legs into a crisscross. “w-well, that’s different!”

“no, it’s not!” the man teased, shaking his head like you were hopeless. he crossed the room, back to you, where he stood like a pillar before the bed. when you didn’t meet his gaze, he tucked his finger beneath your chin and made you. “you’ve been thinking about it for so long, haven’t you, sweetheart? about me? must be so lonely, just thinking, never doing.”

he passed his thumb over your trembling chin, admiring your starry eyes, how they reflected so much love. you were so pretty, a pretty he couldn’t have imagined if he’d seen all the most beautiful women in the world. none of them could hold a candle to his girl. “you’re so smart, so good at handling things when they’re hard. but you never let anyone handle you, do you? not even me, baby, and i could be so good at it.”

you couldn’t control how you let him sway you. you gave yourself over, basking in the rush. he settled on his knees, so you had to look down, and he pressed his hands to where your love handles dipped, passing the skin over in his hands.

“i’ve wanted to let you,” you sighed, “i’ve… thought about it.”

fox’s eyes, eager as a puppy’s, looked up at you as he asked, “well, when we’re in your head, where do i start?”

you shivered. “you kiss me first.”

the man decided that you deserved to have your fantasies fulfilled; if in your pretty mind you’d dreamed up a routine, then he’d follow it, and he’d prove to you that nothing was as good as the real deal. he pushed up on his knees and leaned in, thankful for his low-set bed, as he pressed his lips against yours. you disassembled against his touch; he moved with a cadence that had your head spinning, fingers behind your ears, tongue swiping against your bottom lip. you’d kissed him plenty, but never like this. never so messy, so desperate. he tasted warm, and kind, sunshine in a mouth. you let out a soft whimper as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth.

“i think you’re a bad girl in that head of yours, angel,” he mumbled into your mouth. “what do i do next up there?”

you were too afraid to say it, and you didn’t want to pull away from his lips, so instead you reached for the wrist that held his hand to your face. fox’s throat tightened as you guided his hand down to your stomach, a place you didn’t let him touch often.

“so pretty, baby,” he admired, knowing exactly what it is you needed from him. he paraded his kisses down to your neck, where he got so much sloppier. he licked a stripe over your throat, nipping at the soft skin of your jaw, and he passed the chub of you over in his devastating hands. you keeled forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder, and he littered your ear with little pecks. “so soft. i love your tummy, y’know. how it looks when you wear those pretty dresses, and how when you wear my shirts i can see the shape. fuckin’ adorable, you have no idea. prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.”

“fox,” you whined. he was barely even touching you, but the weight of his words anchored your lungs to the floor.

he took a little liberty and leaned down to tug your shirt up, and began brushing his lips over you, spit for paint. you let your hands wander to his hair, and your stomach flipped at the noises he made.

“now what, sweetheart?”

“y-you… agh,”

fox pulled away, and you swooned at the sight of his pretty lips already swollen. “forgettin’ already?”

“well…” you trailed off, feeling a mental fog roll in.

fox stood up and pushed at your shoulders, tilting you back onto his bed. laying down, he had more access to pushing your shirt up and seeing you for real. he sucked at his teeth, handsome face overtaken with want; you curved like a muse beneath him, and he wondered why you hid all this body beneath clothes. you felt his hands like a compass, mapping the cascading mountain ranges and slow, dipping valleys of your hips and thighs, as if his whole world was discovering you, as if his purpose existed within the endless confines of your flesh and bones. and his hands roamed freely, nomadically, through your land, committing every road that made you shiver to memory.

“where do you touch yourself, princess?” fox smiled. you whined, and he clicked his tongue. “come on, show me.”

your hand shook, but you rested it over your shorts, and you curled your fingers in to prove you knew how.

“good girl. bet you know just what to do, huh?”

“mhm,”

“but your fingers aren’t enough, are they?” fox pouted playfully as he hooked his thumbs beneath the elastic band squeezing your waist.

“no,” you wheezed, “never.”

“fuck. you sound so pretty when you need me. let me see you.”

trying to stop himself from rushing, the man clambered on top of you and grabbed you by the back of your knees, pushing you up the bed a bit. when your head hit pillows, he tucked them behind you, and he crawled back down to your legs with a mission. gently, he tugged your shorts down, and beneath were little black boyshorts that cut into the skin of your thighs. he looked about as starving as michael douglas as he flattened his palms against your hips, adoring the sight.

“y’know, most girls hide lacy things,” he teased, “i like this so much better.”

breathlessly, you said, “lace is itchy.”

“god, you’re just dying for it, aren’t you?”

you pushed up into his palms and whispered, “please.”

“please what?”

“do it,” you heaved, “i need it, fox.”

he didn’t need to be told again. he slid your panties down in one sweep and practically drooled over what you had kept from him all this time. he could’ve cried. this must be what people felt when they saw the mona lisa for the first time, or had a prayer answered. this was his very own da vinci original. this was god’s divinity trapped in your lower half. you were an irritated pink, your pussy plump as the rest of you; as he pushed your thighs wide, he found a sheen already coating your skin. “fuck, sweetheart, is this from the movie or me?”

“y-you.” you kicked yourself for all your stammering, but the glow of his cheeks soothed the embarrassment.

“oh, yeah?”

you didn’t know how easy it would be to let yourself be touched before you just tried it. here, with the one man who might be the direct work on god on earth, you wanted to spill every secret now that you knew something of hands. your heart beat against your ribcage relentlessly as you admitted, “was imagining it was you on tv, fox, you and me,”

“jesus christ,” fox grunted, eyes dirty and dark. “i can fuck you better than he ever could.”

fox pressed his thumb to the bundle of nerves that throbbed between your legs, and just the pressure alone drew a dangerous moan from the back of your throat. he relished in the sound as he began to circle his finger, leaning down to kiss the searing skin. you rolled your hips against his touch, begging for more friction, and he wordlessly rewarded you with a new motion, one that needed two fingers for rubbing. you grabbed at his forearm as it came into reach, and he felt like he could explode from how you tugged at him. you held onto his arm like it was a lifeline. any other girl would’ve grabbed the bedsheets or touched her body, but your inexperience meant you were acting on instinct, and that quite possibly was the best thing he’d ever seen. watching you feel so good for the first time in your life had him panting like a dog. you were all his now, his pretty girl under his spell. an angel who knew only one name.

“good, baby?”

“mm-nngh,” was all you had to say.

“what a pretty girl.”

“fox…”

“good girl. only i can make you feel like this, right? not those guys in your books, none of those movies. just me, my hands, baby, my mouth,”

you used your grip on his arm to try and get him to go faster, but he refused. he wriggled free from your grasp and left a ghostly kiss on your stomach, tutting, “oh, no, angel. i’m gonna make this last. want you out of your mind when i’m done.”

you’ve felt powerless all your life, and you do even now, but this is the first time you’ve ever needed more. you were engrossed in being taken. you’d been too afraid to pray for this because you weren’t sure how the man upstairs would feel about you breaking his technical rules, but you had to have yearned to let fox take your virginity every night since you met him. you knew he’s done this before, but you didn’t know he was so gifted; but even he could tell you that it wasn’t so much his experience as it was how he wanted to ruin every other guy for you. and how could you want another when his hand– that which wrapped around the neck of a pistol, that which choked the air of men’s throats– circled your clit so gently, working a new kind of love into you that you never thought imaginable?

“been dreaming about this, y’know,” fox drawled, leaving stinging kisses on your waist. “been thinking about how our first time would go. and you’re doing so good, you’re taking it so well right now.”

you couldn’t speak. every word got caught in your chest. so instead you tugged at his hair, trying to get him to kiss you. he giggled, hovering over you and slowing his fingers so he could give you what you wanted. you moaned into his mouth, lips gnashing against his teeth in your eagerness, and just when you felt like you were starting to have some control, you felt two of his fingers push between your folds. they went so much deeper than you’ve ever gotten your own, and as he curled them inside you, your entire body shook. gasping against his cheek, you exhaled, “oh my god,”

“be careful, baby, you don’t want him to hear you,” fox warned, voice thick with lust.

you grabbed at his chest, fingers running through the little curling hairs that grew in a thicket over his heart, and you felt it beating, keeping time with his hand. you wondered if sex felt like this for everyone the first time around, but then again, how could it? unless fox was there for them all, they could never have had it this good.

“you’re so pretty,” fox cooed, “so pretty on my fingers. d’you feel pretty, baby?”

“mmm,”

“tell me you feel pretty,”

“i- i feel pretty.”

“mhm. what about me, love, you think i’m pretty, too? my hands feel pretty?”

“fuck,” you squeaked, “fox!”

“i know you do. say it.”

“you’re so pretty,” you droned, trying to catch his lips in a kiss, but he rerouted to your neck.

you ground into his palm over and over again, and he felt you burning up on his fingertips, contracting, squeezing, shaking. he moaned into your shoulder, “do you wanna cum, baby?”

your hands scratched at his arms, and to his surprise, you shook your head violently. “not yet,”

“really?”

“mm-mm. not… not time yet.”

fox’s pupils swallowed the green of his eyes. the man licked his lips and slowed to a stop, letting his fingers rest inside of you, and he asked, “what comes next, then?”

even in a position so lewd as this one, you were too embarrassed to explain. so you reached up to his mouth, swiping your thumb across his slick bottom lip, and with pretty little doe eyes, you popped your finger into his mouth. you watched as he wrapped his lips around it, swirling his tongue over the salty taste of your skin, and you whispered, “i need you.”

fox pulled off your finger with a pop. “how?”

he followed your lidded gaze as it traveled down to the bulge in his pants, and he nearly passed out.

“you sure you’re ready for that?” his eyebrows knit together in true concern, but he knew he was the one who had to answer the question, too. he wanted to do right by you– you couldn’t regret this, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you did. “i can wait, you know. this is about you.”

“no. i’m ready,”

“positive?”

“mhm,” you sighed, “just… don’t hurt me.”

the man above you melted like putty, and the hunger he’d touched you with went soft. you saw that toothy grin again, the one that gave you butterflies, and he promised, “i’d never hurt you, angel.”

the scruff of his jaw even tinted a lovesick pink as he kissed you. your fingers scratched at the back of his ears like you would a dog’s, and you confessed between breaths, “i love you, foxie.”

his hands flew to his waist and he rushed to undo his belt and shimmy the slacks down. he wanted to scream, he wanted to stand at the edge of the world and tell every soul about the way you coated his entire existence in sugar, but right now, it was just you. he was alone with his girl, and if he couldn’t tell the world, he could at least make you sick of hearing it.

“i’m so fuckin’ in love with you,” he swore, marking your face with invisible prints of his mouth. “i’m all yours, princess.”

“oh, god,” you groaned, watching how he spilled out of his boxers with glazed eyes. you had no idea where he was hiding all that. you felt a little dorky for the surprise, but who could blame you?

fox was too far to reign in. he grabbed your wrists and pulled you up, and he made you scoot up against his headboard; you pressed your back against the cold wood, and you yelped as he raised you in the air, pinning you to the wall.

“fox, i-”

“you’re not too heavy,” he stopped you, knowing what you were going to say. “you’re perfect.”

you couldn’t complain- truthfully, you didn’t even get the chance to think about it, because he was all over you. with one hand holding you up by the leg, and the other gripping the headboard with white knuckles, he pushed himself between your legs, and you knocked your head into the wall at the way he stuffed you.

“fuck, fox!”

it didn’t hurt, but god, was he big. pinned to the wall like this, you had no bearings. he had you suspended, stapled down by his sheer strength; you never thought you could be fucked like this, some little ragdoll he could throw around, but clearly you underestimated how much he could handle. you felt the wind leaving your lungs as he pulled out and snapped back in, pelvis rolling hard against your swollen clit. he moved like a wave crashing down, managing to soak every part of you with his skin.

“fuck, sweetheart, so much better than i imagined,” he croaked, “feels okay, right?”

“s-so… so big…”

“oh, baby, i know,” he babied, leaving pinprick kisses on your jaw. “you can take it, pretty girl.”

his big hand tangled itself in the hair at the base of your neck as he fucked you into the creaking headboard. you were an endless machine of moans and profanities, head lolling, trying to keep your eyes open to watch the way his lips parted at the feeling of you encircling him. he tugged at your hair, and a guttural groan escaped your lips.

“always wanted to get fucked like this, huh, baby? you’re such a good girl, you deserve it,”

“fox, please,”

“such a pretty girl,” he moaned, “jesus, you sure you’ve never done this before?”

as you bucked your hips against his swelling length, you offered a drunken grin. “only in my… dreams.”

“oh my god. you’ve got no idea how hot you are.”

he was everywhere, he was heaven, he was the pounding in your head as you collapsed against his body, letting him use you like a toy. you scratched at his shoulders, mouth all over his sizzling skin, and he flooded your ears with pretty praises. you hoped to god that by the time he was done you’d have the print of his hands tattooed on your hips, or that he’d never be done and you could float on by in this bliss forever. but his hips were thrusting hard, and falling out of time, and you felt your tummy squeezing like it was running out of air. he drowned in you, mouth full of dirty whines and strings of i love yous, and you knew you couldn’t hold back.

“f-fox… oh- oh god…”

“gonna cum for me, princess?”

“i… i’ve never…”

the feeling in your stomach was foreign and hot, and it was backing up all the functions of your brain. all you felt was fox between your legs, terrorizing this little spot that short-circuited all your nerves, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, trapping his mouth with yours– and when he hit it one last time, with eyes rolling back, and you let everything go. fox felt the warmth of you spilling over him, and the silent scream you let out had him unraveling in seconds. his hands were all over your face, fingers on your teeth as he came inside you, feeling himself mixing with you, and nearly bursting again just knowing he was.

“oh, baby,” he fussed, “good girl, atta girl!”

pulling out slowly, so you didn’t feel too shocked, he slid you down the headboard softly and helped prop you up against the pillows again. you couldn't see straight, and everything twinkled, but you did catch a glimpse of him sneaking back down the bed. the man admired the mess he left behind. the smallest dribble spilled out of you, and all of a sudden he was lapping it up with his tongue, thirsty as a castaway. your entire body buzzed with overstimulation, and in what felt like screams but only came out strangled, you exclaimed, “fuck, oh my god!”

his tongue split you open, collecting all the juices between your hips and smearing the inside of your thighs, the pretty little mound of your pussy, making you shimmer like an angel. he sucked, and he swirled, and he dug his tongue between your folds like a freak, and you grabbed at his sweaty hair, so full of him you wanted to thank your angels for sending you someone so perfect.

“come on, i know you’ve got more,” fox coaxed, “one more, baby, one more.”

black spots crossed your line of vision as you watched his face disappear in your legs, and the tidal wave rose again, drowning you in a feeling that had you bucking against his tongue like a rogue horse. you’d never been able to make yourself cum, but all it took was fox mulder to pull two loads right out of you. you felt disgusting, you felt drunk, you felt so good you could’ve died this way. you didn’t ever want to leave the bed. fox made his way back up, heaving, and he kissed you with milky lips. you tasted yourself on his tongue, and you needed his palms to pin your hips down as you trembled, stuck on your high.

“good girl, didn’t that feel good?” kiss. “you did so good, baby,” kiss, “so good for me,” kiss, “m’so proud of you, sweetheart.”

“mm… agh,”

“i know, love, take a deep breath.” you felt his hand press against your warm tummy, and he told you again, “take a deep breath for me.”

you smiled, trapped beneath him, and you breathed like he wanted you to. anything he wanted, for the rest of his life, he would get. through fuzzy vision, you saw his glittery eyes, the grecian curve of his face, the little white strip of teeth behind his handsome smile, and you felt so in love you didn’t know what to do with yourself. he started to blush under your gaze, so he laid down on top of you, resting his head on your chest to listen to your racing heartbeat.

“foxie,” you whispered.

“hm?”

“m’not a virgin anymore,” you giggled, the joy bubbling out of you.

his warm laugh echoed in your ribs. “not anymore.”

“all yours now,” you swooned, “are you happy?”

you felt his hand slither behind your back, and he scratched at your spine, making you squeal at the ticklish feeling. then he attacked your neck and shoulders, mercilessly going after all the spots he knows are most sensitive until you lost your breath again from his innocent touch. “stupid question!”

“ah!– fox– agh, stop!” you swatted at his hands, a blissful wreck.

“‘course i’m happy,” he chuckled as he relented. “are you?”

in a huff, you rested your spinning head on his pillows and blushed. “mhm. very.”

“worth the wait?”

“definitely. thank you.”

“my pleasure,” he teased, flopping down beside you and lacing his fingers with yours. and when a comfortable silence fell, he couldn’t help himself: “you know i’m never gonna stop thinking about this, right? i’m ruined for life.”

“shut up,” you laughed.

“no, seriously. get ready for a life of me drooling over you doing absolutely nothing.”

“i’d like that life, i think.”

you curled up in his side, and he drew you close, letting you hide in the crook of his neck the same way you did in what felt like a lifetime ago on his couch. there was still a little devil on his shoulder, applauding him for taking a piece of you that no one else could have now, but more than anything, his heart ebbed and flowed in his chest, blossoming each time he looked down at your pretty face. he meant it when he said he was ruined. you ruined everything by letting him fall in love with you, and he has never felt so lucky.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

inspired by this ask ;)

#Spotify #fox mulder #x files #spooky mulder #the x files #fox mulder x reader #fox mulder x you #domestic fox mulder #soft fox mulder #fox mulder x reader fluff #fox mulder fluff #fox mulder smut #catholiscism #loss of virginity #virginity kink #plus size reader #embarrasment #god bless the freaks

357 notes · View notes

brucewaynehater101 · 6 months ago

Note

please i am frothing at the mouth I NEED to hear your take on how the bats find out about JJ and Tim losing his wing in the Wingless Wing AU and how they react.

please brucewaynehater101 my lord and savior give me the angst i so desperately crave

Of course! With praise like that, how could I refuse.

I hope you enjoy the angst :D

Here's the post in reference for anyone unfamiliar.

Alright. In that post, I mentioned they find out at the same time they find out about Tim's missing spleen. We'll call that the funny path.

Ye asked for angst, though. Here's some delicious angst:

TW: JJ, wing removal, brief mentions of anti-hybrid sentiments, mentions of trafficking/selling body parts

Tim's back constantly aches. It's been years, but he can still feel the harsh hacking into his shoulder blades as his wings were removed. He can't bring himself to look at the jagged lines in his back.

When Bart saw the then raised pink scars, his face morphed into grim understanding. With careful movements, he slowly got Robin used to pressure and hands on his back. It took months for every small step forward, but the speedster was patient. He was casual and never drew attention to the small gestures. He analyzed the subtle shifts in Tim's body and backed off without being asked.

The rest of YJ eventually caught on as well. When Tim was finally able to have people's palms upon his back, Kon, Cassie, and Cissie would bicker about scar tissue massages. Eventually, it became a team bonding activity to help others with their pain (whether through massages, offering heat/ice, or moral support).

When Tim gained a gnarly gash upon his throat, the same careful process occurred again.

YJ was broken up after Tim returned with a scar upon his abdomen, but Bart, Kon, and Cassie still helped with his healing process as he did for them. They supported each other through every scar, visible or not.

When Tim first got the scars, he spent a year teaching the muscles on his back how to work properly. He added exercises, stretches, compression, and heat packs to his daily routine. It was insanely difficult to research and experiment by himself, but he managed. By the time he offered himself up as Robin, he already had strong arm and back muscles. They weren't enough for Robin, but they worked.

While Tim was Robin, he took extra care not to get damaged on his back. He lied and hid any injuries he did obtain, often seeking out YJ for help instead (after they reach that point of trust). This process worked for years. There were a few close calls, but Tim has called Kon in extreme cases.

At first, Tim didn't want anyone near his back. He hid his scars from the batfam because of his trauma and his internalized anti-hybrid sentiments (he knew most of the Waynes were hybrids, but he also thought they would kick him out if they knew he was too. Just the horrid stuff his parents spouted and conditioned learning). Eventually, as he grew closer to YJ and more comfortable in his skin, he still hid from the Waynes.

He considered telling Dick a bunch of times, but everyone else didn't foster a relationship with him where he felt comfortable. Cass knew, but she also isn't a hybrid.

There's a ton of factors in play for why Tim never told them.

When Tim gets fired from Robin, it's agonizing. He created fake wings just to maintain that role.

In his desolation, he comes to the realization that he can change his wings. Instead of the bird ones Robin has always had (at least until Damian [which is another point of contention]), Tim can have back his dragon ones. They'll be fake, but some part of him aches to have wings resembling his old ones.

Dragon wings are rare, and this causes some tension between Tim and his family when he returns. Out of all the wings he chose to fashion, why did he choose the rare, highly sought-after ones? To their knowledge, he isn't even a hybrid. They trust Tim, obviously, but him choosing dragon wings doesn't help their already strained relationships with him.

Jason especially, as someone whose had to take down a fuck ton of hybrid trafficking rings or underground selling of hybrid parts, has issues with Tim choosing dragon wings.

To prove a point, Jason chats about a pair of dragon wings that keeps getting sold around the black market. It's been years of Red Hood chasing these wings down to try to stop them from being passed around. He wants to honor them by giving them a proper burial.

One of the reasons Jason is so hung up about them is that they are so so small. They obviously came from a child.

Tim turns pale. Jason thinks that Tim finally realizes the error in his ways until the teen asks Jason to describe them.

Hood is pissed as fuck that Tim wants descriptions of the wings and initially misunderstands.

Then he notes the way Tim's arms stop in an aborted movement to wrap around himself. He catches the paleness to his face, the trembling of lips, and the hunted look in his eyes.

Jason hesitantly answers.

Tim collapses to his knees and throws up.

No one else in the family was there for this interaction. However, they see the effects.

Jason no longer berates Tim (particularly about the dragon wings).

Joker, the next time he escapes, loses a leg.

Jason and Tim hang out more with the older being more affectionate and mother henning.

#tim drake #thank you for the ask!!!!#dc universe #dc au #jason todd #yes the joker sold tim's wings for some pocket change

241 notes · View notes

mvltisstuff · 2 years ago

Note

hi!! i use tumblr on safari - so i’m unable to answer any messages - but i would like to put in a request for conrad fisher x fem! reader smut!

if your comfortable, could you do a imagine with an innocent/virgin reader that is constantly flustered by conrad?

thank you so much!! <<33

champagne & sunshine - c.f**

summary: request

conrad fisher x reader

a/n: i get so nervous posting smut (for literally no reason😭), but i still hope you enjoy this 🩶 warning for smut.

the bonfires were always a good time, usually. once you grow up, the hype of them dies down a bit. belly begged y/n to come, being her older sister figure. it was y/n’s birthday, so belly convinced her that it would be fun. besides, y/n’s mom had been letting her drink today, as long as she was home and with close people. y/n figured she’d leave it at that, not bothering to take anything at the party.

she threw one of the cans in the bag at the corner of the beach, avoiding the full boxes of hard seltzer as her eye landed on conrad and jeremiah entering the beach. luckily, the fire wasn’t bright enough to illuminate her bright red cheeks. she walked away from the drinks, turning away from conrad but also trying to make herself seem noticeable.

she’d grown up with the conklins and fishers next door, but she always had the biggest crush on conrad. every single time he walked in, her heart raced and almost everyone knew it. belly always teased her, someone noticing before she even knew she liked him.

conrad had always had his eyes on y/n. conrad, y/n, and steven had been the oldest, so it was usually him and her together. she acted like she barely knew him, when he probably knew her better than anyone else. now that they were both eighteen, legal adults, they could do pretty much whatever they pleased. somehow, y/n still found herself blushing like a little girl. conrad was one of the first to show her any attention. boys never cared about her at home, and he always made her feel wanted. she was always a shadow to her friends, who had guys clinging to them. she sat around with other people talking about sex and other stuff that y/n pretended to know about. it made her a little bit embarrassed, but who really cares? her whole friend group would laugh at her humorously if they found out she was a virgin, but again, who cares, right?

it wasn’t until she was sitting on the warm sand, feeling it in her hands as she slid them across the floor, that conrad sat next to her on the beach. the music was blaring, so y/n brought herself away to just observe people for a little bit. someone must’ve had the same idea if they tread all the way over to sit with her.

“you got dragged here, too?” conrad asks first.

“belly, jeremiah for you, i assume?”

“the one and only,” conrad laughs, as he kicks away an empty bottle. “you’re not drinking anything?”

“nah, i don’t really feel like it tonight. i’d rather just enjoy my birthday sober, unlike everyone else,” she tells him, pointing to the stumbling people surrounding the fire.

“you’re not the only one,” conrad says. “so it’s just us, huh?”

“y-yeah,” y/n stutters. “i mean, i didn’t even bother getting all dressed up for this shit.”

“i think you look beautiful either way,” he says, and when y/n looks up, his eyes are softly on hers, refusing to crack the shell between them. y/n pauses, looking at conrad dumbfounded. she never has boys call her beautiful, let alone the one she’s been hopelessly in love with for years. but, they always say love hits you when you least expect it. y/n thought that was a lie, but she really believed it for now.

“you too, connie,” she spits out, not bothering to change the adjective for him because everyone is beautiful. he adjusts himself to sit closer to y/n, trying to relieve some of the tension. his eyes can’t help but wander across her body, taking in every part of her that’s breathtaking to him. and the cropped tank top and shorts that she’s wearing isn’t fucking helping his case either. she’d be lying if she wasn’t checking him out, too. his sharp jawline, his hands, his radiant eyes, his lips could never be missed by y/n. someone this pretty deserves to be looked at, they both think without speaking.

“do you wanna head out? come to my place for a bit?” conrad asks, standing up and holding his hand out as she nods up at him, anticipating a night alone.

before y/n can even begin to think straight, their lips are crashed together in his car. she’s leaning over the cup holders in the center, and her hands are against his face. his hands are placed on her hips as he can’t help but steer his mind away from his tongue in her mouth. he never in a million years thought he’d see this side of her, and she never thought she’d see it in herself. she’s kissed guys before, but never this intimately. conrad pulls away, smiling against her lips before connecting them again. every single time this happens, y/n swears her heart skips a beat in the best way possible. like their lips set off fireworks in the car. they decided to leave the vehicle, climbing up the stairs, trying not to disturb the moms watching a movie. conrad places his hands on her thighs, lifting her up and placing y/n gently on his bed. he climbs up as well, letting her legs wrap around him as their kiss does nothing but intensify.

her hands roam all around his body, his waist, his shoulders, his neck. the only time they separate is for a breath of air, just until they can return again. conrad’s wander over her chest, placing one of his hands to squeeze her breasts.

“is this ok?” conrad waits for confirmation until he gets a yes. after, in response, y/n tugs off conrad’s shirt, discarding it to the floor somewhere in his room. her hands run down his back. “if you want to stop, tell me and we’ll stop the second you say it.”

“ok,” she peeps out. “but if this does go any further, i’ve never done any of… this, before.”

“we can stop, y/n, whenever you want.”

“no! no, i want to keep going. can we just, go slower, maybe?”

“anything you need,” conrad reassures her before moving down the waistband of her shorts. “can i take these off?”

“yes,” she tells him, clearly and assertively as he takes off the tank top, too, leaving her in just a gray bra on his bed.

“have you ever… ever been eaten out before?” he asks. she shakes her head no, slightly embarrassed so she puts her head down to cover it, but conrad sees right through it. “hey, look at me. you’re ok, i promise. can i keep going?”

“yeah, please,” she says, squirming in discomfort from her own arousal. the feeling is unfamiliar, wanting someone to touch her so bad as it’s at her fingertips. someone willing to love her is right in front of her. conrad begins to peel off y/n’s underwear, throwing it off the bed like his shirt, ending up somewhere on the floor. she pulls her legs apart, spreading them as conrad’s eyes fall deeper.

“god, y/n,” he says. “you’re so fucking hot.”

“conrad,” she begs, as he flattens himself down trying to ignore his own erection. he wants to pleasure her first, and knowing he’s the first one too might boost his ego a bit. but conrad would never admit that.

his face is an inch away from her pussy, beginning to kiss her inner thighs as she groans from the teasing. finally, his tongue makes contact with y/n’s slit, gathering up her arousal before swirling it around her clit. y/n’s head falls back onto the pillow again in pure pleasure, letting out a quiet moan for the first time. “oh, fuck yes,” she speaks out, making conrad try to contain a smile. he places his tongue on her clit again, moving his flat tongue up and down. he switches between those movements and wrapping his lips around it, sucking on her clit, causing her to fail at concealing her moans. y/n’s hand moves down to conrad’s hair, trying to ground herself on the bed from the ecstasy.

the second her climax starts rolling up onto her, her legs start shaking and that tells conrad that you’re close. “f-fuck, con- oh my god,” she pants out, trying to formulate words but failing. her orgasm creeps up and sends her over the edge, releasing a strong moan from her lips as she comes down from the high, his fingers are gently circling over her clit.

“that was, um, holy shit, that was amazing, conrad,” she smiles as he pulls himself back up to her.

“are you feeling alright?”

“better than ever,” she says, making conrad laugh as he moves over to his drawer. he pulls out the box of condoms before taking one out.

“do you wanna keep going?”

“yeah, i do.”

conrad moves back over, dropping his pants and rolling to condom on. y/n gazes at his length, wondering how she would be able to take it. with conrad here, she knew she would be ok, so they continued. he walks back over, pulling her legs apart and making eye contact with her again. “remember, we can always stop no matter what, ok? just say stop, and we can stop.” she nods and he leans in closer. he plants a sweet kiss on her lips before pulling away, it was her turn to smile against his lips.

once settled in between her legs, conrad begins to run his tip up her slit. he confirms that she’s doing alright and that she’s ready to keep going. after he’s aware, he slides his dick into her, making her nose scrunch and release a high moan.

“you ok?”

“yes,” she replies. “yeah, you can go faster.”

conrad speeds up his pace, thrusting himself into y/n. she didn’t feel outright pain, just discomfort. that discomfort soon turned into pleasure, causing her mouth to hang open. “you feel so good, y/n/n, god damn.”

y/n’s hand falls down to her clit, circling it until she starts to bring that now familiar feeling up. conrad continues to keep the same pace, not changing it to make her feel comfortable and in control, just as much as he is. “i’ve loved you for so fucking long,” he spits out, not thinking about his words. y/n heard him loud and clear, but she’s too distracted by her orgasm coming up.

“conrad i’m close,” she tells him.

“me too, baby,” he says, breathless. “come for me, y/n.”

her release leaves her with stars in her head, the feeling better than anything she’s ever experienced. she was always worrying about sex and what it might be like, but with conrad, he made it amazing for her. she knew he was the right guy. he brings himself down, leaning onto her as he releases himself into the condom. he pulls out of her, throwing away the condom and pulling his boxers back on. y/n grabs her underwear, as she stands up wobbly. her legs are weak from her two orgasms from conrad, making him chuckle in the corner.

“hey, um,” y/n starts. “thank you.”

“yeah, of course,” he stutters a bit, not sure of what to say but trying to still wrap his head around it. he means, he just had sex with the hottest girl in cousins, what is he supposed to say? “you know, i meant what i said. i’ve liked you so much, for a long time.”

she just stares at him, confirming that she’s not in some dream. “i’ve been in love with you since the day i first saw you on the beach,” conrad steps over to her. placing his hands back on her bare waist and kissing her passionately again. he pulls back again to sadly, break the kiss off.

“we should probably clean up a bit, before everyone comes back and yells at us for leaving,” he says, brushing a loose piece of hair behind her ear. she nods, beginning to pull the rest of her clothes on. thank god she left that party when she did, or she would still love conrad, but never say it.

2K notes · View notes

fromthelakes · 7 days ago

Text

Emily Prentiss Headcanons

Faith and Fear: Raised in a Catholic household, Emily still carries traces of guilt and fear tied to her religious upbringing. She’s stopped believing in a benevolent God, but in moments of desperation or fear, she finds herself instinctively praying or whispering old Latin prayers. It’s a paradox she can’t quite reconcile—a tether to a childhood belief system that also judged her harshly for who she is.

Over-Apologizing: Despite her confidence, Emily has a habit of apologizing unnecessarily, particularly when she’s made someone close to her uncomfortable or feels she’s overstepped. It’s a reflexive habit she can’t unlearn, born from years of trying to make herself smaller, less obtrusive, easier to love. The words “I’m sorry” always come out of her mouth before she can stop them.

Cloud of Smoke: Emily keeps trying to quit smoking, but she secretly doesn’t want to. It’s a habit she picked up as a teen, and even though she managed to quit at one point, the habit crept back into her life during a stressful time. The feel of a cigarette between her fingers reminds her of something steady, something controllable, even if it’s slowly killing her.

No Room for Happy Endings: Emily doesn’t actually believe in happy endings. Every time she sees her teammates finding love, building families, or chasing personal dreams, she feels a pang of something ugly—envy, despair, guilt. She tells herself that people like her were made to protect those who can still find joy, not to have it for themselves.

Keeping Her Distance: While Emily cares deeply for her team, she always keeps them at arm's length emotionally. Years of betrayal and loss have taught her that closeness only leads to heartbreak. Even her romantic relationships are short-lived or built on a foundation of secrets, because she’s convinced anyone who gets to know the real her will eventually walk away. So, her solution is to leave first.

What Could Have Been: Emily doesn’t think of herself as a person who could’ve been a mother, but sometimes, when she’s at a park or watching JJ with her boys, she has these fleeting, unbearable moments of wondering. A child with her dark hair and quick wit. A child she’d read stories to in every language she knows. A child who’d run to her for comfort. Then she remembers that she could never protect them, and it feels like something she never even had is ripped away.

Always Packed, Never Home: She never keeps her bags fully unpacked. Her childhood was a blur of houses, apartments, and embassies. Each room she was given to sleep in felt like a borrowed space, filled with someone else’s furniture and memories. Even now, she never truly decorates her home—just in case she has to leave. It’s not paranoia; it’s muscle memory. She’s never felt like she was staying somewhere permanently.

The Ghost of Paris: The apartment Emily stayed in while she was “dead” in Paris still exists, untouched, exactly as she left it. She keeps paying the rent on it because part of her believes she might have to go back. She doesn’t even know what she’d be running from, but the thought of losing her escape plan makes her feel naked, vulnerable, weak. Sometimes she wonders if she’ll die there one day, just as alone as she was the first time.

A/N: Heyy, here are some of my headcanons for Emily. I'm slowly trying to get back into writing, and thought that maybe starting out with some short (and not the happiest) headcanons would be a good start. I do have cuter/softer/happier headcanons for her, but I wanted to post these first. I also have an Emily x female reader oneshot in the making, but knowing me, I'll probably abandon it.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss headcanon #headcanon #criminal minds #criminal minds evolution

110 notes · View notes

pastanest · 1 year ago

Text

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: why is it so difficult to find high quality post-prison reid fbi vest gifs like I thought we were all sluts out here but Ig not

gif creds: @imagining-in-the-margins

Duality Of Man

Spencer Reid had never really considered himself to be a reckless man. He had always been a calculated, well thought out, methodical follower of the rules - for fear of being ridiculed further for breaking societal rules beyond the ones he couldn’t help via his neurodivergence. He enjoyed rules. Learning the rules of people, of their behavior, and of various board games that challenged his intellect, were some of his favorite pastimes, actually.

Spencer also would not have regarded himself as a particularly possessive or territorial person, prior to spending three months behind bars. They isolated him, kept him locked in a space with people that wanted him dead, like an animal raised in captivity being thrown into a cage of wild lions. Having nothing of his own changed the way in which Spencer viewed the world around him, once he was allowed to step back into it.

Yours had been the first face he had seen when he had set foot beyond the prison walls on the day of his release, and the moment he felt you return to his embrace, in a gesture the two of you had engaged in countless times - a form of physical contact that he was most comfortable sharing with you - Spencer felt that something was different. In a way that he didn’t quite understand, you were his, beyond the platonic confines he had previously forced over his own feelings for you. He was not overbearing and had never overstepped your boundaries, but he was more outwardly protective of you than anyone else.

It had only presented itself in small gestures and words: moving to stand slightly in front of you in any kind of tense situation to act as your human shield, checking in with you at every stage of the cases you worked together, prioritizing your safety over his, and, naturally being the first one to object when you volunteered to go undercover to seduce an unsub into revealing information.

“Absolutely not.” Spencer had uttered from where he sat beside you at the round table, shaking his head.

And you had rolled your eyes at him. “I’ll be fine, Spence, I can handle myself.”

He couldn’t argue with that, he had seen you stare down men twice your size on several occasions, which always made him smirk. Still, Spencer could not hide the sick feeling that twisted in his gut at the thought of you going undercover, and being in danger.

As he had often found, the feeling in Spencer’s gut had been right. The unsub had been clever enough to deduce that you were a deliberate victim, not one of happenstance, and as such, he took you to a secondary location, which he had not done with his previous victims.

Given it was not his usual mode of operation and he had acted on instinct, the unsub’s play was an amateur move; comparable to what Spencer was certain Gideon thought in their first chess games together, so many years prior. As clever as the ubsub had been in figuring out you were not who you said you were, he was not intelligent enough to outsmart the one man army of Doctor Spencer Reid when fuelled by a fire that he had never felt burning in him before. It took less than a day for the team of profilers to find the warehouse you were being kept in, and less than a minute for Spencer to completely disregard their carefully orchestrated plan to rescue an FBI agent with the regulated SWAT team.

He didn’t need a team behind him for this.

He would handle this himself.

With a kick that Spencer was sure Derek Morgan would be proud of, the door to the warehouse was made obsolete. Gun and torch raised, Spencer stalked the dark warehouse, checking dusty room after dusty room, eagle eyes scanning every corner, until a figure dared step out of the shadows in front of him. Anyone foolish enough to make themselves a physical blockade that kept Spencer from getting to you was a waste of oxygen.

“So, you’re the one she’s convinced is coming to save her.” The unsub taunted, chuckling darkly as he raised his arms out to his side cockily. “C’mon then, show me what you’ve got. No weapons, just you and me, man to man.”

As if to prove the authenticity of his own words, he discarded his usual weapon of choice, the blade clattering against the warehouse floor.

Spencer eyed him like a wild lion in a cage, and he almost smirked at the irony, but kept his expression calm and collected. He glanced at the doorway of the dark room they stood in, knowing that protocols would advise him to call for assistance, to make the arrest with as little physical harm as possible. But when Spencer’s eyes gravitated back to the subject who was now very much known to him, his target was in his sights.

An icy glare stayed fixed on the man that took you as the sound of a torch and gun hitting the ground echoed through the otherwise empty room. The air was thick as Spencer unclipped his FBI bulletproof vest and tossed that to the ground, too. And with no sense of urgency, he popped the cufflinks of his shirt and rolled his long sleeves up to his elbows.

An invitation to beat the life out of someone that took you? Hurt you? It must be Christmas.

Spencer’s expression was unmoving, and he didn’t say a word. Finally, after a childhood spent as a victim of merciless bullying and a portion of his adulthood fearing the judgment and cruelty of others, Spencer Reid was confident in his ability to end a physical confrontation with his own two fists.

In three large strides, he was face to face with the egotist, who swung at him - pathetically and predictably enough for Spencer to not only swerve out of the way, but reciprocate the gesture tenfold. A solid right hook spun the idiot’s jaw and sent him stumbling, but Spencer was far from finished. He stalked over to him and in a matter of steps, had grabbed his target by his shirt collar and forced him against the wall. The fool was still reeling from Spencer’s punch, a dazed look in his eyes and blood dripping from his split lip.

“Did you touch her?”

Spencer’s words were eerily quiet, barely above a whisper, but in the silence of the warehouse they reverberated against every wall. He had a feeling that he already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it; he had to be sure his next actions would be justified.

His vision clearing, the man fool enough to take you smirked up at Spencer.

“(Y/N) looks real pretty when she cries, doesn’t she?”

He chose to answer Spencer’s question with a rhetorical question that immediately decided his fate.

In a fraction of a second, Spencer threw his target to the ground and pounced on him, vision clouded with red as he landed punch after punch, until the ground looked just as red to everybody else. If three months in prison had taught Spencer Reid anything, it wasn’t how to fight, it was how to fight dirty.

He only stopped when the physical barrier sputtered for breath, and that was only because Spencer didn’t want to get thrown back into a cell - away from you. Catching his breath, Spencer lifted his gaze and scanned the room around him again.

“Spencer?!”

And he was stood, his rage an afterthought as he followed the weak sound of your voice, your call to him. In a sea of voices, Spencer could pinpoint yours in an instant. Having heard commotion, you had assumed it was him, coming to your rescue, like you always knew he would.

He found you in the next room, bruised and bloody, tied to a chair and covered in torn clothes with cuts beneath them that reassured Spencer the blood dripping from his knuckles was beyond worth it.

The look in his eyes was so soft as he ran to you and crouched in front of you, kissing your forehead as he tore the ropes from you with no regard for the burns he may get on his already bloody hands.

Finally free, you collapsed into Spencer’s arms, and he released the breath he’d been holding since you’d been taken, closing his eyes as he held you tightly against him, standing up and helping you to your feet in turn. The weight of the trauma you carried made your legs shake beneath you, but Spencer was there to hold you steady; he would always be there. He held your face in his hands and gave you the softest smile you’d ever seen, his thumbs ever so gently caressing your cheeks.

It took you a second to come to terms with your surroundings and your rescue, but as soon as you had, your eyes widened and you took Spencer’s hands in yours.

“You’re hurt.” You murmured, tears shining in your eyes as you held his bloody knuckles with such tenderness, he was surprised he could feel it after the aggression his hands had just been subjected to, but he would always be able to feel you.

Spencer almost chuckled in disbelief as you - in your beaten, bloody and traumatized state - became upset over a little blood on his hands. Well, maybe it was more than a little…

“Adrenaline, (Y/N), I can’t feel a thing.” Spencer reassured you in a soft voice, holding your face in his hands again and placing the lightest kiss on your nose. “But we need to get you to a doctor.”

The moment he said it, the rest of the team filtered into the room, having passed the sputtering suspect and Spencer’s discarded bulletproof vest on their way.

The look on Emily’s face told Spencer he would have several unpleasant reports to fill out regarding how he’d handled this case, but when he stared into your eyes and saw the stars in them, he knew he’d do it all again a hundred times if you were waiting on the other side for him.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #x reader #imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons

869 notes · View notes

cheralith · 11 months ago

Text

to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader (part iii) 」

content warnings ; fem!reader, implied fem bodied!reader, use of she/her pronouns, reader wears dresses and makeup, mild violence mention

contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, angst, angst with some comfort, unedited/not beta read as of 2/24

word count ; 8.5k

notes ; we're so back. am i severely late to posting this? very. did i at least get it done after too many months? also yes. i also apologize in advance to those i tagged that are no longer interested in the series, as i merely tagged people that had commented regardless of time. lmk if you no longer want to be tagged in the last part, i promise i won't take offense at all!

parts ; one two three four (tba)

THREE YEARS AGO

“My name is (Y/N) (L/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. O’Hara. Please let me assist you at any need possible.”

Miguel peered at you through his reading glasses, averting his attention from his laptop to fully examine the stranger that stood in his office. Dark hazelnut eyes scan the appearance of a young woman dressed in black slacks and an ironed white blouse standing stiffly next to his superiors that eyed him with more eagerness than he liked. He could already tell that you were a shy one, a person that wasn’t too accustomed to the outside world and its people; you stood with stiff posture; it was one that exemplified nerve rather than confidence from the way that you almost seem paralyzed in your place.

Caldworth, one of the superiors that stood by your side, placed a wrinkly and veiny hand on your shoulder and showed you off to him as if you were a painting up for bidding. “We choose a sharp one for you. (Y/N) here is rather attentive, so don’t be shy about letting her get to know you better, Miguel.”

Miguel stayed quiet, still skeptical about this sudden new arrangement for him that was brought up at the last minute. He lacked a certain sort of anticipation that would usually behold anyone else in his position—a new person entering their work life would usually be an exciting, rousing meeting seeing as how it would be a new addition to what the higher-ups would refer to as “family.” A loose term, Miguel often thought… very loose, even. To even have the courage to compare coworkers to something as intimate as family was something that didn’t sit well with Miguel. Blame it on the certain circumstances on his own familial life, but even anyone else that had their brain in the somewhat of the right spot would understand that mere coworkers were nothing compared to family.

At least in his case.

“I’ve greatly admired your work in the past,” you said almost robotically, “so I hope I can be of any help in your future accomplishments—no matter how big or small.”

Miguel cocked his head. He fought the urge to raise an eyebrow at what he began to concur was something scripted via his superiors. Something about your tone of voice seemed… flat; devoid of any actual enthusiasm.

Caldworth and his partner began to see themselves out, leaving him to babysit you. “Well, you two have at it! Maybe go out for a cup of coffee to familiarize yourselves, get to know each other better since you both are essentially going to be around each other all the time,” Caldworth stated, making Miguel twitch from the last part.

Just before they left, Caldworth offered the glint of his eye over his shoulder, the peek of a tight-lipped grin ever so slightly visible.

“And don’t forget, we’re all family here!” he cheered before the slam of a door shut you and Miguel in.

Immediately, Miugel noticed that your shoulders caved inward, indicating that you were finally able to breathe properly without the surveillance of people that were essentially in charge of your life. He eyed you again from the top of his glasses before he took them off and rested them in between his fingers, letting them dangle lazily.

“Did they tell you to say that?”

You jolted in your spot. Nerves seemingly reshocked with the same anxiety from before, you turned yourself to face your new boss again with a much more paled, yet evident expression—wide-eyed, pursed-lipped, gritted jaw—and swallowed thickly. Almost in a shameful manner, you silently nodded your head.

“W-was…” you started, “was it that obvious?”

“Somewhat,” Miguel murmured simply and closed his laptop. “Don’t listen to what they say, just make yourself as comfortable as possible. I’m sure neither of us want to be that comfortable with each other.”

Your lips pressed themselves into a tight line, hitching a sharp breath before it’s replaced with another stiff nod. There was no user’s manual of sorts that was given to you by your superiors. They merely told you to do exactly what Miguel needed, so if this is what he wanted—for you two to maintain distance—then so be it. If anything, it’s easier to breathe this way for both parties.

And it was like that for a rather long time; the both of you never came too close to the other person. It was strictly a professional workplace relationship, one that didn’t issue any room for intimacy because it wasn’t needed. There were no lunch or dinner get-togethers outside work hours, there was barely any small talk between you both, and you and he didn’t even bother getting each others’ personal numbers despite being consistently around the other like air—both parties thought the work phones were more than enough. There was no need for you to learn about his likes, his dislikes, his favorite foods, and Miguel couldn’t certainly be bothered with your own slices of life. To each their own, if you minded your business about him, he’d do the same to you.

It was a fair trade and a sufficient barter that satisfied you and him; there need not be any excess of the unnecessary.

That was, until a certain day that Miguel was held back during his usual hours to continue working on lab reports—work that didn’t allow him freedom from this hell of a company to see his own salvation.

“If it’s an urgent matter, Mr. O’Hara, I don’t mind taking on some of the workload,” you had said softly as you placed the last stack of packets on his desk that needed proper annotation. “I’m your assistant, after all. It’s my job to help you out.”

Miguel rubbed his forehead out of exhaustion and shook his head, “You’re my assistant from 9 to 5 only. I’m not gonna be like those shocking pricks and work you longer than needed,” he muttered and stretched out his neck, joints crackling. “Go clock out, (Y/N). I’m sure there’s someone waiting for you at home that needs attending to.”

Suddenly, the atmosphere had gone awkwardly quiet. The tension was only broken by the scritching of your shuffling feet before you coughed.

“Um, there’s no one in particular like that for me, unfortunately,” you whispered through a forced laugh that quickly dissolved. “So again, I don’t mind staying late…”

Miguel stiffened in his seat and mumbled an apology for his blatant inconsideration. Right… you were still rather young and didn’t seem the type to have a family yet. “No boyfriend? Or girlfriend… I’m not one to judge.”

“No, Mr. O’Hara.”

“No parents?”

“I moved out, so no.”

“Not even pets?”

“None.”

“... perhaps friends of sorts?”

“...”

Another sigh heaves itself from his aching lungs. What he’d do for a cigarette right now to kill this awkward tension. You were a rather shy person that isolated herself from most people, but Miguel didn’t think you’d detach yourself this much from the crowd.

You proposed your assistance once more, as third times always a charm. “Please let me assist you, Mr. O’Hara. I truly do not mind staying overtime if needed.”

Miguel, at first, thought you might be kissing his ass for a possible raise, but the thought quickly disappears when you genuinely appear concerned for his well-being given the fact he looked ultimately much more disgruntled than usual. Despite your timidity, you could be a stubborn one, so Miguel gave in before he tired himself even more with mild arguments that he was sure would drain whatever life he had left in him.

He inhales sharply and fiddles with his bag for a bit before he pulls out an array of keys, gently detaching a pair of them. One of them is his car key. The other—his house key.

“Take these,” he said and gestured them to you. “I’ve trusted you enough to drive my car on multiple occasions, so now I’m entrusting you to my daughter.”

Your eyes widened briefly, brows raising to new heights. Blinking in the alikeness of an owl, you repeated, “Your… your daughter?”

Miguel supposes this is what succumbs to him after not revealing even the most personal, yet basic parts of himself to a coworker. He hasn’t even revealed his birthday to you, let alone his family, so he can’t say he’s too surprised at your reaction.

“Yes, my daughter,” he repeats and starts scribbling on a post-it. “Her name is Gabriella, she just turned five and is in kindergarten. I’m gonna call up the daycare and tell them that you’ll be picking her up from school. After that, drop her off at the house and just… just kind of stay there until I come home. There should be leftovers in the fridge if she gets hungry. I’ll take a cab home… I dunno.”

Miguel sticks out the post-it note containing both the address of the daycare and his apartment number. With caution, you take and examine them closely with a mild surprise still on your face of the new information about your boss that you thought you should’ve learned a while ago. You begin to see yourself out of his office with an evident nervousness in your being before Miguel spontaneously gets up and grabs your wrist tightly, forcing you to look at him.

A chill goes down your spine when you see a menacing and unusual red glint in those pools of mahogany. His once-drained face is suddenly stony and rugged with his teeth bitten back to avoid any unnecessary threats. The physical contact makes your nerves go cold and paralyzes you into place to force you to stare into those eyes that you’re not sure aren’t even human, a sort of malicious crimson tint gleaming over brown hues.

“Do not… let anything happen to her,” he hisses under his breath, his tone jaggedly sharp, “Not a single scratch, yes?”

It takes a while for air to breathe itself back into your lungs, yet only a partial amount of it revives your body because all you can reply is a choked out,

“Yes.”

Miguel lets go of your wrist like it’s a heated iron rod, the burn of it stinging his hand with the aftertaste of your skin still damped on his palm. You quickly leave after that, leaving him to sigh and stare into nothing before clutching the picture frame of his daughter that sits on his desk—praying that you’ll live up to his expectations and arrive home to an unscathed Gabriella.

And throughout the duration of the three years you and Miguel have spent side by side, with each repeated question he’d contritely ask again and again, he did each and every single time you had to take care of her. The hours became longer, more strenuous, and created a blockage between Miguel and Gabriella that only you were able to bridge between. Gabriella—whose particular shyness reminded Miguel of a certain someone—eventually warmed up to you and began to treat you much more familiarly as time passed, growing accustomed to wrapping her body around your legs when she saw you during pick up and always asking what was for dinner that evening as if you’ve been there since her birth.

Gabriella grew very fond of you, Miguel noticed. There was some sort of mimicry in her actions at times that mirrored your own habits like how she’d tilt her head and purse her lips to the left when she was confused like you did or she’d randomly walk briskly in the same fashion you marched. She’d slip in a mention of your name during small discussions here and there, a praise never failing to tail her words.

“Miss. (Y/N) bought this headband for me! Isn’t it pretty?”

“Oh, Miss. (Y/N) taught me how to solve that problem yesterday.”

“Can you make cookies like how Miss. (Y/N) does? Yours taste weird.”

While you weren’t always present around the O’Haras, Gabriella made sure it seemed like you were.

There was a particular time that Miguel was helping her on some homework assigned over the weekend. The assignment had discussed different careers that children might be interested in the future and when Miguel had asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, Gabriella, who couldn’t have been more than six or seven around the time, replied all too simply,

“I want to be like Miss. (Y/N).”

Miguel was astonished. He had expected an answer like a professional soccer player due to her love of the sport or a scientist like her father, but to aspire to be someone that seemingly was just an occasional companion? To him, it didn’t make sense.

“Like, do you wanna work for Daddy when you’re older?” Miguel asked, attempting to clarify what she meant since she knew enough to understand you were associated with her father.

Gabriella shook her head and mindlessly continued to draw what seemed to be a portrait of you in… a pink dress? “Nuh uh. I wanna be a princess like her.”

Through furrowed brows, Miguel chuckled a little aimlessly. Of course she’d still believe fantasy and magical things—she was just seven after all. Initially, he wanted to merely correct his daughter, but was a little curious as to what sort of silly information you had been feeding her. “Miss. (Y/N) is a princess?”

“Yep, she told me herself!” Gabriella exclaimed, her hand fisting a yellow marker that scribbled on a crown on the drawing. “She said she used to be a princess, but she ran away ‘cause a giant, fire-breathing lizard tried to kidnap her!”

“I think it might’ve been a dragon, mijita,” Miguel corrected gently, trying to go along with the usual trope fairy tales portrayed.

“Nuh uh, it was a big and creepy lizard, she said!” she retaliated stubbornly.

“Well,” he started again, attempting to choose his words a little more carefully this time around. “How come you don’t wanna be like Ariel? Or Tiana? They’re princesses, too, right?”

She shrugged. “I like them. But they’re not Miss. (Y/N).”

Something unnatural began to seep into Miguel’s chest. He knew that Gabriella liked you quite so, but he didn’t expect for her to almost admire you in such a fashion that inspired her to be like you. In his eyes, you were nothing but the assistant that loyally stood by his side and abided by his every word—to him, it seemed like you were more of a butler or servant than a princess.

But in his daughter’s eyes…

“Why? What’s so special about (Y/N)?” Miguel inquired with a growing curiosity to try and see you in the same light as Gabriella.

She shook her head, displeased with the informality given to you by her father. “You gotta say Princess (Y/N). I don’t have to ‘cause she said it’s okay.”

He sighed, “Okay, fine. What’s so special about Princess (Y/N)?”

Gabriella set her marker down carefully and thought for a little while. Her eyes suddenly lit up with delight, an affirmative grin set on her lips.

“Well, she’s really pretty… like reallyyy pretty. I wanna be just as beautiful as her one day,” she praised, making Miguel’s brows rise at the sudden compliment. “She’s really nice, too. She never shouts at me like the teachers or coaches do… and she always lets me have extra dessert when I do a good job on my homework.”

Miguel fell silent. Perhaps it was more than mere admiration, but idolization for Gabriella. She viewed you in a way that Miguel hadn’t even thought of because he only viewed you as his coworker. But in Gabriella’s eyes, you were more than just her babysitter—you were literal royalty to her. He shouldn’t be one to complain though—he’d take his daughter following in your footsteps over some others that might lead her astray. You were… sufficient enough, he supposes, even if Gabriella didn’t think so.

“She’s super smart too—like you, Papá! Maybe even smarter,” she retorts, making Miguel twitch. “And I like her voice a lot. I really like it when she reads me a story because her voice is pretty. Sometimes she sings this song to me to help me sleep.”

“Oh?” Miguel questioned, “¿Y, qué canción es esa?”

“I keep forgetting the name and words of it…” Gabriella pouted after a moment of attempted concentration. “But it went somethin’ like…”

She began humming an off-tune melody that struck a dissonant, yet familiar chord within Miguel, but it was impossible for him to find why it was so eerily familiar to him. Was it perhaps from an old song? Or a film he’d seen before? It was a calming song, one that was perfectly suited for a child’s lullaby, but something about it seemed almost so customary to him.

“Ya gotta marry her,” his daughter said plainly and began to resume her artistry, ignoring the sudden startle she gave her father. “So that way, I can become a princess, too.”

Miguel helped himself to the nearby cup of water to soothe his choked throat after the scare she gave him. “Sweetheart, I’m not a prince, though.”

“Yeah, I know,” his daughter replied without missing a beat. “But you know what you are, though?”

Dare he say that Gabriella had grown akin to you the same way she had with her father. Something about her praise and regard for you seemed to mirror the way that reflected alike to her father, yet Miguel couldn’t tell if she had managed to draw a line between the images of you and him. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if Gabriella could even define a difference in her adulation between you and him besides the fact one was her parent.

But when the thought of Gabriella potentially viewing you as sharing the same title as him—a parent—something seeds inside Miguel. He doesn’t know what it is or what it will grow into, but there’s one thing he knows for sure.

The seed of you in his life and hers is here to stay, whether he likes it or not.

Gabriella’s smile grew wide before she happily announced,

“You’re her knight in shining armor!"

PRESENT

If he squinted properly and took a closer look, perhaps Miguel could make himself hallucinate enough to try and visualize the golden chandelier above your head as your haloing tiara. It was the main light source nearly the entirety of the venue, but something about the way the light glistened around you made you seem almost holy, like you were a divinity gracing your presence on the wretchedness they called Earth.

Blame it on the wine, but Miguel couldn’t help but notice that you looked more celestial tonight; a unique sort of ethereal that he’s only seen in the finest of paintings. The banquet hall is covered in layers of silkened gold, only emphasizing your best features in the spotlights of reflecting amber.

You’re talking idly (per usual, unfortunately) with a coworker from Human Resources that he’s seen you often have mild conversations with on the weekly, a rare familiarity that he only knows he’s been graced with in full; so it’s truly no surprise that there’s a placid stir of envy growing within Miguel as you’ve decided to not give your semi-cold shoulder a break even tonight, even with the rarity of a compliment given by him. At least there’s been somewhat of an improvement—you’re actually holding miniscule conversations with him every now and then as you both chatter with the crowd as long as there’s a third party.

Yet he still hasn’t been granted mercy of having a proper one-on-one with you, yet.

But beggars can’t be choosers, so Miguel must make do with what he’s offered.

The coworker, finally, is called by one of his project managers and politely excuses himself, leaving you to Miguel’s devices at long last. Like a flower’s petals given little to no care, your smiling face wilts into the solemn countenance that Miguel has grown accustomed to seeing for the past week when you turn your gaze back towards the table, a sliver of Miguel caught in the corner of your eye. In time, he just barely catches a glimpse of your eyes flickering toward his figure before they return to stare at the nearly empty plate of food with a slight dismal.

A choice of what words to say jumble in his mouth. They toss and jump about while not giving him full comprehension of what they mean and Miguel grows frustrated at his lack of intelligibleness because it wasn’t every day that his resolve could be so cowardly in front of someone. Usually he was the one that made egos shrink, but upon your grace, his own could only grow so small.

You can tell there’s an awkward silence amongst you both despite the audible chatter throughout the banquet hall and the idle conversations among your tablemates, so you break it first but stiffly shuffling out your phone and dialing Gabriella’s babysitter for tonight—a blue moon occasion since neither you nor Miguel could be present. Gabriel is out of town and because there were only so many people in the world that Miguel could trust with his beloved, the elderly next-door-neighbor was the last resort.

“I should probably check up on how Mrs. Darcie is doing,” you splutter with a dry mouth. “I forgot to teach her how the TV remote works and I’m sure she must be bored out of her—”

Unconsciously, Miguel gently pries the phone out of your shaking hands, the connection between skin and skin electrifying his nerves more than he liked. He takes notice of the size difference between your hand and his own and eyes carefully at how easily your fingers would be able to slip into the gaps of his all too easily; like two connecting puzzle pieces.

He places it face down on the table to avoid further distractions. “I’m sure Mrs. Darcie is alright,” he attempts to soothe as he places his hand over your own, nearly caging it between his fingers. Miguel struggles with fighting the urge to squeeze it delicately—he doesn’t know if he’s earned that privilege, or if he ever did. “Gabi is most likely preparing for bed, we shouldn’t distract her.”

Eyes flickering toward your covered hand, the warmth that envelopes it from Miguel’s makes you swallow thickly.

“Ah,” you murmur and timidly pull back your hand to place back on your lap to Miguel’s disappointment. “Right… Never mind then.”

And suddenly, he’s back to square one. Silence plagues the air again between you and him, only this time, it’s thicker and grimier almost. Perhaps it was the oddity that was the physical contact that added to the musk of it; Miguel prays that you didn’t find it uncomfortable.

A fork is plucked between your fingers and you go to idly poke at your food to fidget with something other than your hands. “I hope she’s okay. Gabi, I mean. I-It feels a little odd leaving her with someone other than you.

Rays of hope and enthrallment embellish Miguel’s being from the fact that finally… finally you’re the one attempting a conversation with him after much too long. And not only that, you’re beginning with something bold, even if you don’t realize it. Despite the fact you’re rather unconscious of what you’re saying, something within Miguel perks up at the fact that you’re worried about Gabriella in the same sense… that he is.

That a parent is.

He fights the urge to physically shake his head to brush the thought off. Miguel hums, a semi-sorry attempt at being suede and casual. “Mrs. Darcie has had eight children in her lifetime, I’m sure that she’s definitely had her experience of taking care of kids,” he says seemingly nonchalantly. “Gabi, if anything, is lightwork to her.”

A soft delight pings in his chest again when you reply almost instantaneously, “She is indeed a good girl, very well-behaved.”

“She has her moments,” Miguel snorts, fondly remembering a few of younger Gabriella’s temper tantrums and outbursts of tears.

Something golden, something bright blossoms within him when he hears you let out a soft chuckle at his reply. It’s abrupt, but it’s short and sweet enough that he feels accomplished, enough for him to savor the taste of it. “All children do from time to time. But she’s definitely one of the better apples of the bunch.”

Miguel thinks you’re right; it wasn’t often that parents, new ones especially, were granted with the privilege of having obedient children, so he’s one of the lucky ones. Perhaps Gabriella being a good kid was the universe giving him mercy as a single parent, as society often thinks it takes two to tango when it comes to childcare most of the time.

But that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Even if Miguel wasn’t aware of it, some of the responsibility was lifted off his shoulders when you entered the picture, as the duties of nurturing a young child were now in your favor the moment you had signed your work contract. For that, he harbors guilt from time to time when he thinks that you never exactly signed up to be a babysitter, let alone a parent figure to his kin that you were still unaware of.

And then it hits him.

It comes all of a sudden—his senses downpouring from the cloud of his daydreams and thoughts.

It’s not a good realization by far. If anything, it’s the very opposite, one that’s one the other end of the spectrum. It’s a deathly epiphany and one that he doesn’t like to acknowledge but is forced to.

Miguel stares blankly at the tablecloth, eyes droning into the satin folds of it as they mimicked the waves of a crashing ocean. A sort of paleness infects his face, the color of it draining slowly and he goes still when he feels his heartbeat thundering in his ears.

You’re quick to take notice of your boss’s current disposition, growing wary of his wide, blank eyes and gritted jaw, along with his knuckles growing white as they fist his slacks. A shallow breath is echoed from him; you furrow your brows.

“Mr. O’Hara?” you murmur, leaning toward his figure.

Miguel’s mind stirs. If Gabriella views you as a parent-figure, what exactly would you think of it? You’re not much younger than Miguel is, only falling behind a mere four or five years, but you’re still significantly young that you’ve got your whole life ahead of you that you’d need to experience by yourself. The remnants of youth are still planted onto you despite being well-adjusted to the adult world, so to put the responsibility of a child on your shoulders? Miguel feels contrition flood into him.

What if you didn’t even want children?

It’s a fact that you care for Gabriella, but do you harbor the same type of love for her that she has for you? Does she even understand what your role is in her life and that there’s a strict boundary between you and Miguel and Gabriella? He knows he can’t just shackle you onto a weighing responsibility, but when Gabriella is a part of this dilemma, the complication increases tenfold.

Your boss seems to be frozen in time, seeing as how not a muscle in his limbs nor his face were moving, but his eyes were wide open, almost glazed with fear. A feathery hand goes to place itself over his tightened fist before you ask again, “Mr. O’Hara, are you okay?”

The worst case scenario infects Miguel’s thoughts—you standing in the same shadow of his ex, exiting through the same door she had walked through just a few days after his daughter’s birth and breaking his entire being into little pathetic pieces.

This time, however? He wouldn’t be the only one with a shattered heart.

A thick swallow goes down your throat. You gently shake his hand with your own to attempt to break him out of his frigid state, a worry beginning to settle itself in your stomach. “Mr. O’Hara? Can you hear me?” you declare a little louder than the first two times.

Your voice makes him blink and he clears his throat, feeling his cheeks warm at the sudden loss of composure. “Yes, I-I’m fine…” he mutters as he tugs at the tight collar of his dress shirt.

You nod with visible skepticism. Miguel turns away from your gaze to avoid further questioning, since he knows you’ve been at his side long enough to know his behaviors. “Are you sure?”

He nods and stifles a sigh, nodding. The flurry of what had just occurred in his mind lingers almost painfully and it takes him a while to remember where he is and why. Right… the annual celebration gala… with you… to make up for the date that never happened.

His mind is a mess. It’s an incoherent tornado of everything and anything, with images of all kinds flashing throughout his mind—young Gabriella’s drawing of you and her as princesses that she insisted on framing, your face of disappointment that you gave him when he ditched out on the date, a flashback of his ex slamming his old apartment door on him as an infant Gabriella screamed and wailed in her crib, you hugging his daughter after her winning goal, Miguel’s frazzled self as he showed up too late to his daughter’s first Parents Day with a teary-eyed Gabriella, him finding you quietly reading a sleepy Gabi a bedtime story after a long shift at work, you making baked goods in the kitchen with her.. you tucking in her into bed… you suddenly with a suitcase in hand, a sobbing Gabriella in the back as Miguel begged you to stay before you slammed the door behind you and leaving them—

Miguel stands up abruptly, making you jump. The collar and tie around his neck suddenly seem too tight and his throat runs dry. The air grows hotter and his vision starts to blur.

“Mr. O’Hara,” you start as you also stand up, “Is everything alr—”

“I need some air,” Miguel barely chokes out before he leaves the banquet hall without another word. He can just barely hear you ask if there’s anything you could do before he turns a sharp right and leaves the entirety of the building altogether, choosing to remain in the back garden to breathe in fresh oxygen, a relieving chill to the air.

A hand goes to loosen his collar and tie and he can feel himself gain consciousness again. The sky is draped with an ink blue all over, speckles of the night stars scattering all around. The floral smell of many garden flowers fills his senses and Miguel grounds himself properly before he settles himself on a stone bench to balance in his mind.

He attempts to reason with himself.

Clearly, you don’t mind being with children, and obviously you don’t mind being with and taking care of Gabriella. She’s not simply a job to you that you’re forced to work with—you’ve said it yourself. Otherwise, you wouldn’t go to her games nor would you remember to bring her small gifts of her liking. You’ve done things for her out of your own initiative many times. Gabriella is your world, Miguel thinks, as much as your hers.

Now there’s the problem of you being with Miguel, if your feelings haven’t changed all too much. In all honesty, Miguel thinks if he’s with the right person, he’s sure to put in effort into stabilizing and nurturing a proper relationship. He hadn’t had the time to go around and look for love because of work and Gabriella, so serving as this sanctuary that came to him was basically a perfect fit into his life—don’t mind it took him three years to notice it. You’re worth putting that effort in.

Finally… there’s the possible chance that you reject Miguel’s proposal of being Gabriella’s secondary caretaker.

…

Miguel attempts to process it in a more… positive light. One that won’t send him spiraling.

But it’s nearly impossible.

How is it possible to settle a middle ground of happiness, or at the very least… satisfaction, between you and him and Gabriella? How do you imagine a happy ending to a dawning of Gabriella’s happiness? How can Miguel ever face you after asking such a thing?

His vision shakes again, another hurricane of impossible questions begins whirling in mind. The bile in his stomach churns uncomfortably and his hands grow clammy again. His feet feel like they’re sinking in the dirt. Somehow, even at a staggering height compared to most of his colleagues, Miguel feels small once more.

Would he be able to cope with such a—

A loud crash and multiple screams suddenly break Miguel out of his state and he whirls his head to see what was happening inside. The peek of something green slithers inside the massive hole in the glass ceiling indented in the building, and it doesn’t take Miguel long to know what’s happening.

He sprints back inside the building and into the banquet hall, the opposite way where everyone is headed and takes a swift peek inside to what was happening.

A horrifically large green lizard crawls on the floor, letting out an agonizing roar of sorts with its tail swishing about and knocking everything and everyone in its path over. Dr. Curtis Connors, the one foe Miguel had fought a few months ago and had just managed to escape his grasp, had come back for revenge in a newer, more improved, more terrifying form of his initial self-experiment. News of his identity had leaked out immediately the moment that he had defeated the mad doctor, and every work that was researched by him that was deemed irrelevant by Alchemax was unpublished and/or destroyed—that included raiding everything in his personal lab—an urgent executive order made by Tyler Stone himself.

Hungry for revenge for the destruction of his work, Miguel was certain he was back for revenge as back when he was still sane, the amount of research that Dr. Connors had put in was extensive and yielded long years in the making, spanning over nearly three decades of research that was wiped away in the matter of a single day thanks to Alchemax.

Miguel quickly turns a corner, hidden from the public eye, and commands his suit on before quickly re-entering the banquet hall. He swings up towards the domed ceiling and carefully analyzes the area.

There’s still a few people scattering from the room, shrieks echoing from the walls. His eyes go to search for where you are in desperation, praying you’re safe somewhere outside, but a flash of light pink catches the corner of his eye. He nearly snaps his neck when he finds you running in the opposite direction of where most people are headed—towards the garden.

“(Y/N)!” Miguel yells out without thinking and slaps a hand over his mouth. Thankfully, you don’t hear him due to the commotion inside the area as you swim against the current of people. You fight the urge to fall down with every person that bumps into you amidst the chaos before you thankfully make it near the exit.

He lunges down from his spot on the ceiling, lassoing a few people that nearly get crushed under Lizard’s humongous tail and bringing them to safety properly on the way, making his way towards your figure. Rubble from the many columns begin to collapse on themselves; clouds of dust and debris fog the first floor of the hall with the wreckage already trapping some people inside.

A large chunk from the wall creaks and begins to teeter over the south exit, where you’re headed. A certain distraction diverts you from noticing the large cement framework around the exit that’s about to topple on you to Miguel’s horror. In the nick of time, he just barely manages to snatch you by the waist from a thrusted sprint just before the framework collapses with a thunderous boom.

You and Miguel cough from the dust it created. It takes a good second for you to process what your fate might’ve become, and it takes just another second for you to regain your consciousness. A good part of the exit is now blocked, but that doesn’t stop you from taking off your heels and attempting to climb over it.

Miguel barks out and grabs your arm that’s now scathed with slight scratches. “The hell are you doing?!” he exclaims worriedly.

You turn back with a teary and troubled look on your face, much to his shock. Abruptly, you turn back towards the exit and attempt to tug back your arm from his firm grasp. “M-my boss… he’s inside the garden,” you croak miserably out as you try to pull yourself over the fallen column. “I need t-to know if he’s safe…”

Lizard lets out another mighty howl and patters toward the stage, his tail once again swinging haughtily and ignoring anything in its path. Miguel shouts at you to duck and pulls you down along with him. You prop back up and without his arm on yours, you use it to your advantage and grunt yourself forward onto the column.

Miguel wraps a large hand over your ankle and weighs you down from moving any further. “Hey, you need to get out, now. You can’t be here, no one should be,” he urges.

The shake of your head concerns him—right, you’re too stubborn for your own good. “I’ll be fine. P-please, just leave me be.”

“Not when you’re about to get killed,” he declares and juts your ankle more towards him. The motion makes you fall into his chest and Miguel uses one hand to properly secure you to himself, the other launching and swinging a web to the north entrance.

You squirm and fight against him, pleading desperately for him to drop you and leave you alone. A frame of tears threatens to fall from your eyes from frustration and despair when you get put down. Miguel has to physically stop you from running back into the banquet hall once again—you put up a fight though. You thrash against him, clawing and weakly punching at his stronger arms, imploring for him to let you back inside.

“You don’t understand—” you gasp as the remnants of the people inside flood out. Looking over his shoulder, you gaze at the exit solemnly. “Please… I need to know if he’s alright—he h-has a young daughter back at home and if anything happens t-to him—just please let me go!” you wail.

He grabs you by the shoulders forcefully and settles you down, the stream of tears falling from your eyes running his throat dry once again. Miguel has never seen you cry, or even come close to crying. Not when Gabriella forced you to watch what she considered “one of the saddest movies in existence”, not when an entire glass beaker had toppled and its shards pierced your skin, not even when Miguel had first scolded you about your many mistakes on the very first document you turned into him.

Glassy eyes meet concerned, masked ones. Your lip trembled violently, the words all jumbled in your mouth about to spill. “Just let me check if he’s alright,” you just barely whisper.

He bores his gaze into yours as his composure does its best to upkeep him as best as possible. Miguel, from the inside of his mask, bites his lip and sighs. “I promise you, I’ll make sure Miguel gets home safely.”

“What if you don’t?” you accuse with furrowed brows.

“I’ll bring him home safe and sound,” he says firmly. “You said he has a daughter, right? I won’t let her become an orphan. I swear on my life I won’t.”

Your gaze doesn’t falter, even when Miguel attempts to soothe you by chafing the chilled skin of your arms up and down in a calming manner. Unbeknownst to you, you and him share an image of Gabriella in your minds; it brings a sting of ache to your chests.

“How can I trust you?” you ask dryly.

“Because,” he goes to weave a string of webbing through the north entrance and takes you out into the safety of the outside. He settles you on the corner of two intersecting streets that sit nearby the building, with your tears still falling and hands trembling. A hand carefully holds your cheek and wipes away descending tears on your chalky face, Miguel ignoring the squeeze of his heart with each one that puddles on the sidewalk.

“... I’m your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.”

Spider-Man leaves you on the sidewalk idly with the blurry figures of your co-workers and other people in the company whizzing by you with no concern for anyone else other than themselves. It takes a moment for you to understand what just happened and with whom, suddenly hit with the pang of realization that you had just met the Spider-Man: the well-known vigilante protecting Nueva York from all corners, beloved by the public. Excitement can’t seem to conjure itself within you, however, your gaze still lingering on the building that Miguel was possibly in.

A hesitant step takes you forward back to the building, but your phone vibrates abruptly from a notification from Mrs. Darcie. Word must’ve gotten out so quickly that it reached the O'Hara's neighborhood, as her text was asking if you and Miguel were alright. Your thumbs shake as you try and type up a response to let her know that you were at least alive, but you know that Gabriella wanted you both home.

The least you could do is make sure half of that concern was eased. You were counting on Spider-Man to do the rest.

With an arm reaching out for a taxi, you rush into one and tell the driver to step on the gas, promising to tip extra. You’d be willing to give all the money you had with you if it meant that you could be with Gabriella for tonight.

You’ve underestimated the nightly rush hour this Friday night had brought upon, because there’s a sea of cars that are equally as stuck as you are amidst the road. Tangible fingers go to grip your hair frustratingly, and asking the driver to go any further was basically useless. Each minute you wasted on the same road you had been on for what was nearing twenty minutes made you more anxious by the minute.

“I-isn’t there some sort of shortcut?” you ask the driver hoarsely. “I don’t care what roads you have to take, just please get off this one. I’m begging you. I have a child that’s waiting for me.”

His eyes give you a quick glance in the mirror, and empathy embeds itself in his equally tired eyes. He must be a father himself, you think, as he gives you an affirmative nod and swings off the road onto a much more bumpy and gravelly, but visibly less dense one.

It’s nearly an agonizing hour later off the road—it would’ve most likely reached around two or even three if you stayed on the main road—but you thankfully make it to the O’Hara’s residence. Your body moves on its own, flying out the elevator and speeding down the floor of the apartment. You burst open the door, visible sweat misted on your forehead and an ache to your limbs but all that is ignored when Mrs. Darcie greets you with relief, with a sleeping Gabriella settled soundly on the couch as her favorite TV show buzzes in the background.

She grasps you tightly by the arms. “My goodness, thank heavens you’re alright,” she murmurs quietly. “That must’ve been quite a scare… are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” you gasp out tiredly. “But how is she? Gabi, I mean… d-does she—”

Mrs. Darcie shakes her head. “She fell asleep a while ago, she doesn’t know. I just managed to get informed thanks to my son who works near the building. But where is Miguel?”

Dread floods your face once more, remembering why you left the banquet in the first place. Somehow, however, your phone vibrates and receives a text from the one and only. A loud sigh escapes your lips and you crumple to the floor as the feeling returns to your numb legs as Miguel’s texts ease your worries.

Hey I’m alive and alright. I saw you leave earlier, hope you’re safe. I’m omw home.

You fight the urge to burst into tears from the relief as Mrs. Darcie helps you back up. “I’m assuming that’s him,” she says gently as she encourages you to take off your heels. “What a waste of night and beautiful dress. Shame that blasted giant iguana or something had to ruin it.”

A broken laugh leaves you from her gentle humor. You glance down at the dress that the mysterious Lyla had given you tonight and sigh sadly at the many tears of the tulle and fabric. The dress looked expensive and you planned on wearing it again for formal events, but alas, fate has decided to toy with you.

“That’s alright,” you mutter as you help Mrs. Darcie gather her stuff back up so she can finally leave. “I have plenty of others to use in the meantime.”

The elderly woman leaves you inside their apartment after bidding you a goodnight to tend to Gabriella, who’s still sound asleep and oblivious to what was happening to the world and people around her. That’s a good thing, at least, you think to yourself as you tidy up the living room around her quietly. Ignorance is bliss, sometimes.

She’s still small enough that you’re able to carry her to her room even at her age and it reminds you a lot of when she was younger, when she’d pretend to be asleep so you could carry her yourself to go back to her room. Nowadays, she knows her bedtime and does it by herself, but assuming she had been waiting for you or Miguel to come home, sleep had snuck onto her as she waited and waited.

You put her down gently, hoping not to get any of the leftover debris on your soiled clothes onto her freshly-washed body. The action just barely stirs her awake, her eyes slitting open at the slightest bit. Your blurry figure just barely makes it to her senses and she grins sleepily.

A titter escapes her lips. “You look like a…” Gabriella starts, her words faltering due to a fading consciousness.

“Like a…?” you whisper softly, a hand stroking her hair gently.

“Like a…” you can tell she’s trying to find the words in her very limited vocabulary currently, her brain threatening to shut off at any second now. “Like a princess, I think?”

You raise your brows at her description as Gabriella immediately falls back asleep. You suppose you do look much more dressed up from usual, but your cheeks tingle a hint of warmth at the comparison of literal royalty. You blame it on the drowsiness.

Your own tiredness begins to crawl up your spine as you stay by Gabriella’s side in her darkened bedroom, her quiet breaths soothing you like a lullaby. With heavy eyelids threatening to shut close at any minute, you fight the urge to give into the Sandman, insistent on Miguel’s return.

Miguel…

His name rings aloud in your mind for a moment.

Miguel…

“I promise you, I’ll make sure Miguel gets home safely.”

Spider-Man’s familiar voice suddenly jolts you awake. Your brows crunch together. How on earth did Spider-Man know Miguel’s name when you merely referred to him as your boss? Perhaps he saw Miguel in the garden beforehand? Maybe Miguel had an earlier oncoming with him from before and Spider-Man just knew him from that one incident? Or… he just happens to know the names of all the citizens of Nueva York because… that’s just how Spider-Man is?

Or, was Miguel actually Spid—you shake your head in the same second you think of such a stupid reasoning. That’s impossible…

… you know in your heart that it just is.

Any reason that you attempt to give, you think of it as either obnoxious or just simply impossible. Maybe you did let it slip that your boss’s name was Miguel… that just seems like the most plausible reason. After all, your adrenaline was at an all-time high and you could barely remember what had happened before the takeover, let alone the conversations you had.

Whatever it was, it was going to bring Miguel back home, and that’s what ultimately had mattered in the end. It probably wasn’t even your business to prod around.

At Gabriella’s visible sleeping state, you stand up and start to head towards the bathroom to fix yourself up, but the sound of the master bedroom’s window suddenly shuffling open makes your nerves electrify. Miguel’s bedroom sat just right next to Gabriella’s, and it was also the bedroom that was nearest to the complex’s fire escape, so a break-in at this time of night was highly plausible.

Grabbing one of the displayed metal baseball bats on the wall, you turn off Gabriella’s lights and lock the door behind, ensuring her safety first before yours. You’re careful to tiptoe around the more creaky parts of the floorboards, desperate to make yourself not seen by the intruder as you step closer and closer to Miguel’s bedroom. The door is just barely ajar, and the lights are on. A distinct shuffling, bed springs, and a masculine groan echo from the crack of the doorway and when all is silent from the other side of the door, you make your move and burst in, ready to swing at whoever threatens the O’Hara residence.

The bat is suddenly grabbed from your hands from a familiar neon orange webbing and thrusted to the side of the room, where it thunks against the wall and falls limply. You gasp aloud and with nothing to defend yourself with, you look up with fear in your eyes that suddenly turn to shock from the sight in front of you.

There, standing in the same blue and red vinyl suit you had crossed paths with earlier, without its mask completing the look… and thus, exposing the face of the man you had been waiting for to come back home to you.

a/n ; second to last part to this mini-series and once again, i apologize for this nearly six-month delay, last semester was rough for uni. almost made this into two parts, but i felt like they just belonged together and i quite like the blend of them together.

thanks for the patience for those who stuck around and have waited far too long for this, you deserve this! i'm glad to see you all again <3 thank you endlessly for reading and likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and appreciated (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

taglist ; @secretlyrexlapis @urbimom @p1nkliquor @julesclues @averagefloydlover @apurpletrashcan @raeisthebae @mvchmp @um-well @nintendh-e @eddieslooneymoonie @deputy-videogamer @xochyw @honeybeeznuts @aspens-cove @btszn @scaleniusrm @goldenpoison @the-pan-liquid (if you'd like to be either added or removed from the taglist, please lmk! i know it's been awhile, so hi again haha)

#spider man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #across the spider verse x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #fem!reader #fem!y/n

380 notes · View notes