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cvnt4him · 6 months ago

Note

sassy deku >>> (big ass forehead)

YK YOU WRONG FOR TALKING AB MY MAN LIKE THAT HES GORGEOUS HIS FOREHEAD IS PERFECT THE WAY IT IS.

N YKW? IM AB TO MAKE A FULL THING TOO. CAN WE TALK AB THE HEAD THING THO??? LIKE HUH LIKE THAT PARAGRAPH IS MIND BLOWING.

...........................................

Getting an attitude w sassy men

..............................................

M. izuku.

You and izuku never really get into fights so when you randomly got an attitude w him you better believe he got pissed. He's so sweet and nice to you under all circumstances whatsoever, he doesn't want to disrespect you at all but God lately you've just been getting on his nerves. The way you bitch around and yell at him like he exploded the sun.

"are you fucking kidding me izuku? Like are you genuinely insane. I just cannot with you."

You scoff and yell at him with an angry tone.

He rolls his eyes and ignores you, you've really just been so annoying. Like God why can't you simply shut up and suck his cock. Like he's been through so much in his life and this so what he gets in return?

"yeah okay bitch."

"excuse me?!"

"you fucking heard me, you've literally been bitching all day over some shit I had nothing to do with like I just can't. I've saved all of Japan and instead of getting a loving girlfriend to cook and clean for me you're sitting here being a whiney little bitch."

He spat venom with every word that left his beautifully pink tinted lips, his eyes squinted at you with spite. The way he spoke stunned you, you were frozen in shock. You're sweet loving boyfriend who'd never raise his voice at you or even attempt to hurt your feelings,

Tears welled in your eyes as you were blinded by the forming tears, blinking heavily trying to bat away the tears that were starting to become present. Izuku never got angry or even attempted to fight with you, he hated the guilty feeling he'd always feel and not djd you make him feel it.

You made him sleep on the couch for a couple of nights, the main reason he actually stayed on the couch was because he felt he deserved it after what he'd said and how hed spoken to you. Izukus kother would be so disappointed in him. The words that left his mouth were misogynistic and ugly, he wasn't that kind of person, but for some reason you brought out the bad in him.

There was also the good. You knew how to make him laugh, smile, feel oh so good. So why had he been so mean to you lately. He wished he knew.

Izuku came knocking on your shared room door waiting for you to say something, anything. It'd been so long since he'd heard your voice, since you'd spoken to him directly.

"come in."

A soft voice was heard through the wooden door as he practically pushed the door down trying to hurriedly open it to get to you. He gulped out of fear, afraid of what you'd say to him, how you'd feel if you looked at him. He hated himself for what he said, and he wanted to apologize.

You looked at him with sad eyes, you were under the cover hiding your face at first. It felt so good to see your beautiful face after so long. He sighed at your gorgeous features, your lips in a pouty frown and your hair a mess. You looked good no matter what.

"my pretty girl..."

He whispered to you, rushing to your side. He instantly wrapped his arms around your figure as you did the same, he moved the cover on top of the both of you and cuddled you. He buried his face in your neck planting little fast kisses everywhere.

"I'm so sorry.. you've just been so.. difficult lately."

He says into your ear. he feels you tense under his touch before moving back to look at him with a disgusted look. He gave you a confused one, why had you looked like this? He was apologizing!

"are you fucking kidding?"

"wha--"

"I'M being difficult??? If I'm SOO difficult just fucking leave."

Here we go again. He sighed heavily getting rather impatient which izuku was nothing but. You were angering him once again because you're bitching and nagging before he can even get a word out, per usge.

"my god you're such a spoiled little bitch. you never let me speak, always making things about yourself. I came fucking apologize but if you're going to be a fucking cunt I might as well fuck yours."

"are you fucking kidding me izuku?! you-- wait what."

Anyways he bent you over and yanked your underwear and pants off in one go didn't even bother prepping or anything just shoved his semi hard cock inside of you and thrusted into you at an insane pace.

Moral of this story is he didn't stop fucking you until you were a sloppy cum filled mess.

...........................................

I. tenya.

Tenya was so full of your shit. You've gotten in trouble in class, kept blowing him off, and then proceeded to ignore his texts.

He was so fed up with you. He needed to talk to you and you were going to hear him out not just as the class president but as your boyfriend.

"what do you want tenya."

"for you to stop acting like a cunt."

"i--- wha-"

"I'm so tired of your shit y/n you've been acting like a cold hearted ice queen towards me all day. I want to be with you but I can't stand being in the same room with someone who doesn't care about me."

"I never said i---"

"yet you're acting like I'm some minor pleb. Y/n I love you more than anything and yet you're standing here treating me like a insignificance to your presence."

He says putting his hands on his hips. God he looked so sassy like that it was actually kind of hot. He saw how a smirk appeared into your face as you looked him up and down and he tensed under your eyesight.

"yeah you're right tenya I've been kind of a dick all day hm, baby? Let me make it up to you yeah?"

You say batting your eyelashes at him walking towards him and rubbing your hands up and down his chest, burying your face in his neck and whispering and fanning your breath over it. He shivered and put his hands on your waist pulling you closer into his chest, he lifted your head closer to his, your lips so close to touching.

He pushed you down on the bed and dusted himself off.

"you've got to do a better job than that if you want me to forgive you.

Fuck, the smirk he gave you while walking out of his room was diabolical. God how did you end up with a sexy boyfriend like this. Yet he's such a pain in the ass too.

...........................................

M. neito.

Monoma was an ass sometimes, sure. A sassy diva, yeah, but he was never rude to you. He never made you feel like you were less than perfect, he always gave you what he felt you deserved and always made sure you knew how much you meant to him. He never let his feud with your class fuck with him. Until now.

He's been letting everything your class does get to him, and since you're in class 1A he's been getting rather pissed with you. The way he blew you off and pushed you aside like some petty diva was about your last straw.

You walked all the way to class 1B dorm house and bust through the doors in a fit of rage. You were not going to let anyone stop you from fucking up his world.

The way all of his classmates looked at you like you were crazy, some laughing others just genuinely confused why someone from class 1A was here to begin with.

"where the hell is he."

You say yelling to his classmates as they all pointed to up the stairs where the dorms were. You've been there before, not while everyone was awake. But you've been there before. You knew exactly where his dorm was located.

You stormed up the stairs and quickly made your way to his dorm. Upon arriving you bust down his door with your foot, he screams and hides under his work desk for cover. Once he seen it was you he scoffed and was ready to tell at you before being stopped before anything could even leave his lips.

"are you fucking kidding me?? You've been a dick to me all week for what? Because my class is higher than yours?? get over it. At the end of the day you're in hero courses you'll live. Stop treating me like a nuisance because of some sick twisted vendetta you have with my class!"

He scoffed, getting up from his hiding place with a hand to his chest in an offended manner. There was no way you seriously just spoke to him like this?? Where has this side of you come from?? You've always been so sweet and obedient with him!

He was speechless, not a word left his opened mouth. How could you speak to him like some loser. Like those dorks in your class!!

"nothing to say?"

You ask with your hands on your hips. He was sassy, but you knew how to play sassy as well. He crossed his arms and looked away from you. Not daring to utter a word. You kind of liked this side of him, the side that didn't talk back to you. It suited him. A pretty face with such pretty lips need to be shut sometimes. He looks better when he sits there and looks pretty.

You smirk and push him down onto his bed, he lets out a sound as you crawl on top of his lap and put both of your hands on his chest.

"my pretty boy.~"

He was a flushed mess, he opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, he was stunned that you'd just done this to him. He was always the one to take the lead and initiate things!! He hated how much he didn't mind you being on top.

...........................................

B. katsuki.

Katsuki Bakugou, the world's sassiest man. The way he walks with a sway to his hips, the way he stands, the way he just exists unapologetically is enviable to all. Some envied his tiny snatched waist while others envied the fire behind his eyes. He loved being a hero but he loved his girlfriend more.

He loved you so much, so dearly he had no problem with admitting it either. However he hated, absolutely despised when you caught an attitude with him like he doesn't treat you like a queen.

He was absolutely appalled when you started bitching and yelling at him, waving your arms about and threatening to slap the fuck out of him. He scoffed with wide eyes and a smile like he was daring you to. He wasn't afraid to hit you back by all means, however he loved you too much to bring you into harms way in any kind. So he wouldn't actually hit you but throwing you against things, oh yeah that was an option.

"like honestly katsuki could you be more stupid?"

"bitch? Me, stupid? Hah! You're hilarious! Actually, you deserve an award for your humor honestly, how do you do it."

He jokes slapping his knee with an angry smile still plastered on his beautiful face. God you hated how he had such an effect on you despite how furious you were with him. He knew the huge effect he had on and used it to his advantage.

He smirked and pulled you by your waist mid sentence, you were yelling at him and your fiery words were instantly cut off by the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, the way he moved slightly closer to you face his breath fanning over your face. He peered down at you with those volcanic ruby red eyes of his, daring you to do something anything. He wanted it.

"fucking asshole."

"I could fuck yours if you'd like, yeah?"

God you hated how much you loved him. He was an asshole, but he was yours. He never took you seriously when the two of you argued or when you got an attitude with him. You knew this and it angered you, but you could never stay angry with him because he'd always fuck it out of you like he hated you.

He pulled you into a passionate kiss still having that shit eating smirk on his face once he pulled away holding his forehead to yours as he chuckled lowly.

"you hate me."

"so fucking much."

You say pulling him into a heated kiss, walking backward towards his bed so he could fuck you like a slut.

...........................................

AN: chat this was the worst thing I've ever made, I don't think I made them sassy at all, except katsuki anything he does is sassy. however I low-key love how mean I made izuku, I js feel like after his vigilante arc and the war he's a different person, like he's still a sweetie pie but he doesn't take shit from anyone me thinks.

#cvnts-post #mha #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #deku x reader #izuku x reader #cvnts-reqs #deku smut #izukus not so girlie pop #tenya iida smut #tenya lida #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #live laugh love monoma #mha monoma #monoma x reader #neito x reader #monoma neito

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kisses4reid · 9 months ago

Text

convenient pt.3 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 | pt.2 (you cannot read this without prior reading)

summary - spencer likes the girl from the convenience store

warnings - awkward conversations and long silences, both of them being hopeless romantics, allergies/sickness

genre - fluff!!! college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer

a/n - thank you for the love and support on this series. it goes without saying i appreciate all of you all 🫶 thank u @raevyng for the cameo. sorry this is short, it’s either i upload this part or i make y’all wait for another week - i like you guys too much to do that.

“good job on you’re stem cell report, y/n. it was very informed and unique. i liked the, now who was it… william blake quote you included!” the teacher spoke before a class of 60. it was back to teaching new information before the next assessment, you were just about finished typing the professor’s notes before she spoke up. the mention of your name nearly made you jump.

a few of the students looked back up at you, some looking around because they had no clue who you were. you liked it better that way.

you also had no idea who william blake was.

“oh- um. thanks.” you say barely above a whisper. professor raena simply smiled and pushed back her shoulder length bob from her face. she started talking again, so did your friend.

“thanks? the professor who’s known to call out people for their incompetence more than smile in the classroom just praised you. that’s all you had to say?”

maybe logan wasn’t your friend per say. maybe she was just someone who sat next to you the first class and also happened to be your neighbour. she was stubborn and straight-forward, insanely intelligent and also smelt great. but she was caring, and gave you tough love when you needed it.

you glanced at her and smiled awkwardly, “i didn’t have much time to think about an answer.”

“i spend most of my time thinking about what i’d say to professor raena if she ever complimented me.”

“that’s because your-“ you suddenly muffle a cough into your hand, “obsessed with her.” you bring out a small packet of tissues from your bag and wipe your nose, nose reddening. logan leans slightly away from you and you roll your eyes.

“you’re not going to catch anything, it’s just allergies.” you lean back and try to continue typing notes but logan continues,

“you should go home, have some medicine, get some sleep.”

“i can’t, i’ve got work.” you whispered, a man in front of you turning around to shoot you with a side eye.

“you’ve told me multiple times that your manager wouldn’t care if you stole from the store. i’ve also told you many times i also don’t care.”

“yeah well… i like working there, that’s all.”

she rolls her eyes again, and waves you off, her long brown hair blocking her disappointed expression from you.

you stayed loyal to your job for two nights, for nothing. sure you got paid, and sure you got to steal some strawberry milk to ease your throat for a couple of minutes, but it felt boring. you actually started to file through the month old magazines you sold for double the price of a new one. you almost made it a third day without dying of allergies (and another secret feeling of sickness you constantly ignored), before you decided you were over it.

you stood up, flipped the door sign so the word ‘open’ faced you, and turned off half of the fluorescent lights before someone was suddenly in the corner of your eyes. spencer was opening the door so quickly you thought you were being robbed, you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the bell ringing on his entry.

“y/n.” he panted, watching your fingers hover over the last light switch. there was two lights left flickering softly above the front door and the check out desk. he looked stoic in the light, dressed in a grey sweater a little too big for him (like his mother had bought it for him telling him he’d grow into it) and black slacks. he seemed to have gotten a trim, his hair just under his ears now. “you don’t close until 1.”

he was confused, eyes wandering with a light hint of relief. like he was happy he didn’t miss you.

“yeah.” is all you said before you turned away from the light switch and returned to the register, assuming he would get his usual. but he didn’t keep walking, he just turned his body to face you. his eyes were expectant, delirious in a way like he needed something from you.

it was silent before the tension literally forced you to speak, “um. i need to close the store before i pass out. so i can uh… get home alive.” you look down and realise the pile of tissues before you was making a mountain, quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in an over filled bin.

“um.” a cat caught his tongue, he looked down to his feet.

spencer was sitting in his desk chair, scrolling on his government provided computer through forums and websites on ‘how to ask out a girl.’ not realising a majority of his team was reading them as well. he heard a small, familiar giggle behind him, quickly closing the tab and turning his head to be met with many other faces. jj slapped garcia on the shoulder with a smile, who’s hand was over her mouth, morgan and emily also smiling. spencer sighed and was about to cover for himself before morgan stepped in,

“look, pretty boy. no websites or article is ever going to teach you how to ask out a girl. they know nothing.”

emily joined, “yeah, none of those things are going to work. i mean, one of those said ‘don’t take no for an answer’. that’s straight up harassment.” she chuckled. morgan walked forward and placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder.

“all you have to do is talk. learn to what she likes, and be confident.”

“that’s easy for you to say.” spencer mumbled.

“who is this girl anyways? who’s taking our genius away from us?” garcia asked, today her hair was adorned with green themed pieces and a small pink flower clip.

spencer couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth perk up when he thought about the girl who worked at the convenience store. the girl who’s report honestly impressed him. the girl who knew his total without looking at the register. the girl who called him good looking without noticing, like it slipped off of her tongue with no second thought. “just someone.”

you were not just someone.

“yeah you should get home. you look terrible.” spencer’s eyes widened as you raised an eyebrow, “no i mean- not terrible- you never look or have ever looked terrible- i just meant today- no you- like you’re sick and obviously- i mean you don’t obviously look terrible- it’s just uh…” he nodded at himself after he noticed a smile creeping onto your face. “you know what i mean.”

“i know i look terrible, thank you.” he was slowly walking up to the register.

“you really should go home, i shouldn’t keep you here because of some coffee.”

you eyes stung and were puffed in redness, you nose dried yet running, eyebrow lines permanent from warding off a migraine. any other customer you would stay for, but you felt less guilty with him. not because you didn’t care, because you knew he did.

“yeah, thank you.” you grabbed your bag, put your empty water bottle into it and walked over to the lights, turning off the last ones, leaving you both in darkness. spencer was waiting for you, quite creepily as he was basically just a block of void. “you sure you don’t need your 3 minute lasagne?” you joked, and he smiled.

“no, this is fine.”

this? them? you thought this man was articulate.

you opened the door with a key-accessed button that automatically locked it after it closed, and walked into the warm streetlight with spencer.

“bye spencer.” you looked up to him only to find his eyes already on you. his face was plain of emotion, except maybe it was just the lighting that made you think he looked disappointed. not at you, at himself. he was silent, hands making their way into his pockets. it was a habit, you had learned. “what’s wrong spencer?” you asked softly, sniffling immediately after.

it was cold, the wind let a stray piece of hair cross your stuffy features.

“do you like old bookstores, y/n?”

you blinked, taken aback. “yeah. i like old bookstores.” you huddled into your sweater, a darker grey compared to his with a large font displaying your university.

“okay, goodbye y/n. see you tomorrow.” he hurried off into his car and you followed him with you eyes in curiosity.

you were already walking away before he could turn around and ask you something, he felt like he had missed his chance. but there would be more. spencer closed his eyes in frustration and took a breath, starting his car before texting the team’s group chat.

“Attempt One failed. 😐👎”

there was a string of messages after but he didn’t read them. all he could think about was the percentage of people who die alone, and then the percentage of people who are like you.

the next night he appeared at the normal time, around nearly 11pm. but he wasn’t the only one, logan was there with you, studying behind you on the floor.

she was bored, and needed to get out of her room, and the only person she knew well enough was you. there in her mens pyjama pants and an over-sized shirt that read ‘RIP Princess Diana’ with a photo of owen wilson on it, her computer warmed her lap and made a soft whirling sound the in the background.

“hi y/n.” spencer waved, he felt bad about last night. you were barely walking straight when you left and he could tell you wouldn’t get out of your ‘work clothes’ (whatever you wanted to wear with a vest over it) before falling onto your mattress, and he drove away. he didn’t even offer to take and walk you home, let alone give you a ride. but his hands were sweating and his heart thumping in his ears, and he couldn’t think straight.

“oh, hi spencer.” you turned from your own textbook splayed on the counter beside you to see spencer and his tall self. a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him.

he wasn’t meeting you eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows for a second before telling him his total with a sniffle.

“i’m sorry for not driving you home,” he lifted his head, a piece of chocolate brown hair crossing his left eye, “or walking you home. or making sure you made it home safe.”

you widened your eyes slightly and sat still before spencer cleared his throat and continued, “i was nervous, about being around you. and my friends- my colleagues- told me i need to be more confident around you so.”

logan had stopped writing, glancing through her bangs up at you both. your mouth was slightly agape before you realised how stupid you looked and how awkward you were making it.

“oh- no it’s okay spencer, you don’t have to say sorry. i was- i’m fine. um,” you tilt your head with the corner of your lips quirking up with little resistance, “you talk about me to your friends?”

spencer nodded, put his hands in his pockets and thought for a second. he wished there was a better place to do this, a better person to take over for him.

all you have to do is talk.

spencer is great at talking.

“did you know that you could be scrolling for seven weeks before you can reach the end of ‘how to ask a girl out’ results on google? i was scrolling for a long time but then my friends told me to just talk and be confident, but i’m only good at one of those thing. so i was trying to ask you out last night but then i- well i failed basically, it isn’t my strong suit,” he took a breath, “so basically i’m saying sorry for not asking you out and not driving you home.”

it was silent, even a customer stopped humming.

“and also your allergy medication isn’t strong enough for your symptoms.” he glanced down to a white and blue box by your hand. you looked down, seeing logan in the corner of your eyes, hand covering her face.

“spencer-“

“dude just ask her out.”

spencer’s face dropped, and he looked over the counter to find another woman sat down, a cringed out expression on her face. his nervousness increased after he realised this wasn’t as private a conversation as he thought. wiping his hand on his vest, he continue with a gulp,

“no i can’t. not here, um. i’ll see you on monday. and i promise i’ll uh- be better? i’ll try again, so. okay see you on monday.” he quickly took his groceries and walked off quite speedily. you watched him walk away and then once he was out of sight, you simply stared at the box of allergy medication on the counter.

logan groaned in the background and said something about growing balls, but it was tv silence for you.

you didn’t know how to go out with someone, your last relationship was in your first year of high school with a guy who thought baby’s came out of a woman’s bum. not that spencer meant he wanted a relationship, no it could just be a friend ‘going out’. totally not romantic.

you slump and stuff your face in your hands. you didn’t care if you hadn’t dated for however long, he didn’t seem to be a man-whore at all. you just cared about how you were actually going to say yes to a man you’ve only talked to inside of an off-brand convenience store on the night shift.

you muffle a scream before the same silent customer placed a carton of milk on the counter.

“$2.50.” you grumble.

you carried logan’s computer bag as she took out a box of strawberry pocky on the sidewalk. the store was locked, the air was crisp, the light was flickering. you didn’t say much until logan couldn’t stand it anymore.

“you know when you’re this silent it’s actually pretty nice, i like peaceful walks home.” you nodded, and continued your racing thoughts with your line of vision stuck on the concrete as you both walked the block to your apartments. she sighed, “but it’s odd. you love talking. a guy likes you and you go mute?”

“his name is spencer, he does something dangerous for a living, he likes old books and drinks a lot of coffee. he gets home late at night, looks skinny but can lift a box of flour above his head with ease. he’s insanely smart and reads poetry, and helped me with my stem cell report.”

you look over at logan who looks a little disgusted but mainly confused.

“he helped me lift that box of flour without me asking. i have no idea who william blake is. i have no idea how he managed to put poetry in a biology report, and i have no idea how he can admit he’s going to ask me out and then not ask me out. his favourite colour is purple, his favourite fruit is grapes but he buys apples because they’re cheaper. and his name is… spencer.”

logan stopped in her tracks, making you copy. you flung out of whatever trance you were stuck in and raised an eyebrow at logan, “what?”

“what? oh no i don’t know, maybe you’ve just never told me about a man you happen to know a lot about, and yet don’t know anything about. you sound insane- not in the ‘loony-bin way’, in the romcom way. it’s disgusting.”

you both continued to walk, climbing the stairs to the foyer of your building before she took back her bag and gave you the pocky, mumbling, “you need these more than me.”

the elevator ride was mostly silent, and that continued before you both unlocked your apartment doors right beside each other.

“you need to ask him out, if he doesn’t do it first.” she entered her apartment before you could speak, let alone think.

suddenly your apartment felt lonely.

so did spencer’s.

he was cross legged on his plush couch on a call with penelope garcia, she was squealing every second minute trying to create a plan for spencer to ask someone out.

“spence, you’re making this very hard. how am i supposed to be your coach if i only have half a team?”

“you can find someone’s address with half a fingerprint, i think you’ll be fine.” he takes a bite of his 2 minute bolognese.

“that takes the fun out of it. i can only give you tips if i know her personality.”

spencer sighed, and thought for a second, he could practically hear penelope’s growing smile knowing she had won.

“her names y/n.” garcia squealed. “she’s smart and pretty. and her favourite colour’s purple and she studies biology. she knows my groceries off my heart and she’s allergic to pollen. she works late at night at the convenience store two blocks away from my apartment building, and she likes old book stores. she’ll be introverted around an extroverted person, but extroverted around an introverted person. she can read my expressions faster than anyone else, she tries out different hairstyles when nobody’s in the store, and she’s funny.” spencer smiles to himself, “she’s pretty.”

“you mentioned that, lover boy.”

pt.4

taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #cm #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid series

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reidmarieprentiss · 3 months ago

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Water Under the Bridge

Summary: Spencer grovels, he knows he needs to work to regain your trust. Your walls slowly come down, you find happiness. Is it with Spencer though?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Warnings/Includes: Derek Morgan <3, violence, typical criminal minds content, gun shots, guns, gun shot wound, (un)requited feelings, alcohol consumption, self doubt, happy ending

Word count: 9k

a/n: i cannot even lie to y'all i completely forgot about this story i am sooooo sorry !!!

main masterlist part one part two

It had been a few weeks since that intense conversation with Spencer, and though things weren’t fully resolved, there had been a subtle shift. Spencer had started making small, almost invisible gestures—little things that didn’t scream for attention but spoke volumes.

One afternoon, you were deep into paperwork, your desk covered in case files. The exhaustion of the day was catching up with you, and you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Need a break?” a quiet voice came from behind you. You looked up to see Spencer standing there, holding two cups of coffee—your favorite order in one hand, and his in the other.

You blinked in surprise. It had been a long time since he’d brought you coffee, but the gesture felt thoughtful, familiar. "How did you know I needed this?" you asked, unable to hide the small smile creeping onto your face.

Spencer shrugged, his expression soft. “Just a guess.”

There was no expectation behind his actions, no demand for forgiveness. He simply placed the coffee on your desk, then turned back toward his own space, giving you the room to process the gesture on your own terms.

—

Work had returned to its steady rhythm, and though things between you and Spencer weren’t as strained anymore, they were...different. Polite. Professional. But there were moments, small pockets of time, where the old familiarity would creep back in.

During a briefing for a new case, you were reviewing the suspect’s profile when Hotch called for your opinion. Your mind momentarily blanked, the exhaustion of the case starting to cloud your thoughts.

Spencer caught your hesitation from across the table, his eyes flicking toward you with a quiet understanding. He gently stepped in, providing additional information from the file—almost as if he could sense that you needed a moment.

He didn’t overstep, didn’t make it obvious. He just gave you a subtle nod, like the small lifeline was there for you to take or leave. You caught his gaze and offered a brief, appreciative smile.

After the meeting, you found him near the coffee machine and walked over. “Thanks for that,” you said quietly.

“No problem,” he replied with a small smile. “I’ve got your back.”

It was nothing monumental, just a brief exchange, but it carried a weight of understanding and a reminder of what you once had—and what was slowly being rebuilt.

—

The tension between you and Spencer still lingered, but something had shifted. Spencer wasn’t pressuring you. He wasn’t trying to force a conversation or make grand gestures. Instead, he focused on the little things, the small ways he could help and support you. And that was how, in the middle of a particularly stressful case, you noticed it.

You were sitting at your desk, staring at the seemingly endless stream of witness statements, trying to piece together a lead. Frustration gnawed at you, the pressure of the case and your unresolved feelings with Spencer weighing you down.

Without a word, Spencer appeared at your side, placing a stack of neatly organized files in front of you. “I cross-referenced the witness testimonies with the surveillance footage. There’s a pattern in their timelines that wasn’t obvious at first.”

You blinked, staring at the files. “You did this?”

He nodded, his expression calm, no hint of expectation. “I figured it might help.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. This wasn’t the Spencer who had pushed you away. This was someone who was quietly, steadily trying to be there for you. You picked up the files, scanning the information. He had found connections you hadn’t seen.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said softly, looking up at him. There was no grand declaration in that moment, just a flicker of gratitude and trust slowly beginning to rebuild. And for the first time, you felt like you could let down your guard, just a little.

—

Weeks passed, and Spencer continued to show up in small ways. He didn’t push. He didn’t demand. He was just there, reliable and steady in a way you hadn’t expected from him anymore. You noticed the change. It wasn’t loud or overt, but it was there—his remorse, his commitment to making things better.

One day, in the middle of a case, you found yourselves paired together to interview a witness. The professional atmosphere between you was smooth, almost comfortable again. But as you were driving back to the precinct, there was a moment of silence, and then Spencer spoke.

“I know I can’t undo what happened,” he said, his voice soft but clear. “But I want you to know… I’m still here, and I’m willing to wait. As long as it takes. For you to trust me again.” Spencer glanced at you briefly, “I miss my friend.”

His words hung in the air, genuine and without pressure. You glanced over at him, surprised by the calmness in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t expecting a grand gesture from you in return. He just wanted you to know that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he was ready to put in the effort.

You nodded, your heart softening. “I appreciate that, Spencer,” you said quietly. “I’m starting to see that. I miss you too.”

—

The case was coming to a close, you had been staring at the whiteboard, trying to make sense of the last few pieces of evidence when Spencer approached quietly. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood beside you, studying the board.

“You’re thinking too hard,” he said after a moment, his tone soft but familiar, like the Spencer you used to know.

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Thinking too hard? That’s rich, coming from you.”

Spencer smiled faintly, the tension between you easing just a little. “Sometimes, you need to step back and see the bigger picture. You’ve been doing this long enough to know that.”

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. “Yeah, but it doesn’t feel like I’ve been seeing the bigger picture lately.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, then spoke again, his voice quieter. “You’re not alone, you know. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself. I’m... I’m here.”

You looked at him, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard. He wasn’t just talking about the case. He was talking about everything—the trust that had been broken, the space that had grown between you.

“I know,” you replied softly, your voice filled with a mixture of gratitude and something else—something closer to hope.

—

A month later, things had continued to ease between you and Spencer. You still weren’t back to where you had been, but you had begun to feel comfortable enough around him to let your guard down a little. The tension wasn’t as sharp, and the moments of silence between you weren’t so uncomfortable anymore.

One day, while sorting through case files, you made a sarcastic remark under your breath, something about the ridiculousness of the situation you were dealing with. To your surprise, Spencer chuckled, glancing over at you with a grin.

You blinked, and then, without meaning to, you laughed too—a genuine, unguarded laugh that seemed to surprise you both. It wasn’t forced or tense, but natural, like old times.

“Wow, I haven’t heard you laugh in a while,” Spencer remarked, his own smile still lingering.

“Yeah,” you said, your smile softening as you looked at him. “Maybe I’m starting to get my sense of humor back.”

The lightness between you felt… good. It wasn’t everything, but it was something. And for the first time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, things were on their way to being okay again.

It wasn’t a grand reconciliation, but these moments—these small gestures of kindness, support, and patience—were building toward something real. And you were starting to believe that rebuilding trust was possible, even if it was slow.

—

Spencer had been acting like your friend again, and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

At first, it was small things—him stepping in to help with paperwork, offering a quiet word of encouragement when a case got tough. Little gestures that felt like the Spencer you used to know, the one you had trusted, the one you had fallen in love with. But that same Spencer had also been the one who pushed you away, the one who had broken your heart when he refused your feelings. And now, here he was, quietly working his way back into your life, like nothing had changed, like everything could go back to the way it was.

You wanted to be angry. Part of you still was angry. You had been hurt deeply, and that kind of pain didn’t just vanish overnight. Spencer had rejected you when you were at your most vulnerable, leaving you to pick up the pieces on your own. You had worked hard to move on, to distance yourself from the feelings that had once consumed you. And now, just when you thought you were starting to heal, he was back. Trying to be your friend again. Acting like nothing had ever happened.

But the other part of you—the part that remembered how close you used to be—couldn’t help but notice the change in him. Spencer wasn’t pushing. He wasn’t pressuring you. He was just... there. Quietly supportive, offering small signs of care without demanding anything in return. His persistence, his steady presence, was starting to soften something inside you. And that terrified you.

You didn’t want to fall back into the same trap. You didn’t want to reopen old wounds only to have them torn apart again. But there was no denying that Spencer’s efforts were genuine, and it was getting harder to keep your walls up. His actions were slowly chipping away at your resolve, and every time he made you laugh or showed you a quiet kindness, you felt a piece of your guard slipping.

Were you truly over him? That was the question that haunted you, one you didn’t have an answer to. You had tried so hard to move on, to convince yourself that the feelings you had for Spencer were in the past, but now... now you weren’t so sure. His persistence was making you question everything, reopening emotions you thought you had buried.

The problem was, you didn’t know if you were ready to face those feelings again. What if Spencer wasn’t? What if he didn’t mean it? You couldn’t bear the thought of being hurt again, of opening yourself up only to have him pull away. But the longer this went on, the more you felt the old connection between you returning, bit by bit, moment by moment.

And so you were stuck, torn between the pain of the past and the possibility of something new. Spencer was showing you he had changed, but could you trust that? Could you trust him? Could you trust yourself not to fall too hard, too fast again?

The uncertainty was maddening, and yet, you couldn’t seem to stop the slow progression of your feelings. Spencer’s persistence was working, and no matter how much you tried to deny it, part of you was starting to hope that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

—

It started innocently enough, the way all promising things seem to. You met them at a bookstore, of all places. It was a weekend, and you were just browsing, trying to enjoy a quiet afternoon away from the chaos of the job. You weren’t expecting anything, least of all meeting someone who would leave such a strong impression on you.

You were reaching for a book when their voice broke through the silence. “That’s a good one,” they said, pointing to the novel in your hand. “One of my favorites, actually.”

You looked up, surprised to see a person standing there with an easy smile. They were tall, with sharp eyes that held a warmth you wanted to look into for a long while. Their demeanor wasn’t overbearing, just casual, like they genuinely wanted to offer a recommendation.

“Yeah?” you replied, glancing at the book. “I’ve heard good things about it.”

“I promise it won’t disappoint,” they added, and something about the sincerity in their voice made you smile back.

That was how it began. A casual conversation over books that somehow stretched into coffee. You learned that their name was Ricky, that they were professor at a nearby college. Their life seemed different from yours—calmer, grounded in routine, free from the dangers and chaos of your work. It was refreshing. They treated you with respect, asked about your opinions, and listened to your stories with genuine interest. And when they smiled at you, it wasn’t just a fleeting look—it was as though they were truly seeing you, valuing you.

There was something about Ricky that you couldn’t ignore. They didn’t know about your history with Spencer, about the complicated mess of emotions you were still untangling. They didn’t need to. They just treated you with the kind of respect and consistency you had been craving for so long. It felt easy with them. Simple.

After that first meeting, Ricky started to show up in your life more often. They texted you to check in, asked you about your day. They were attentive in a way that wasn’t overwhelming but was instead comforting. It wasn’t like you were looking to fall into something serious, not after everything with Spencer. But Ricky was… different. They weren't rushing you, weren't pressing for more than what you were willing to give. They were just there, steady and dependable, and that was enough for now.

One night, after a particularly hard day at work, they invited you over for dinner. You had expected something casual, maybe takeout or a quick bite, but when you arrived at their place, you were greeted with the smell of home-cooked food. “Thought you could use a break,” they said with that same warm smile. And for the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t realized you were missing.

Ricky’s presence in your life began to fill a space you hadn’t known was empty. They weren't just kind—they were consistent, reliable. They showed up when they said they would. They followed through on promises. There was no second-guessing with them, no worrying about where you stood. And that, in itself, was a relief. After months of emotional turbulence with Spencer, this felt like a breath of fresh air.

But as things with Ricky slowly began to grow, you couldn’t help but feel the tug of uncertainty in the back of your mind. You weren’t sure if it was because of your history with Spencer, or because you still weren’t fully convinced you had moved on from him. Every now and then, you caught yourself comparing the two—Spencer’s awkward brilliance against Ricky’s steady confidence. It was hard not to.

Yet, with Ricky, there was no fear of rejection, no walking on eggshells wondering if they would pull away. They didn’t carry the same emotional baggage as Spencer did. There were no lingering unsaid confessions or missed opportunities between you two. Ricky was here, in the present, offering you a chance at something you hadn’t had in a long time—stability.

And you couldn’t deny how much that appealed to you. The question now was whether stability was what you truly wanted… or if part of you was still hoping for something more, something unresolved with Spencer.

Spencer had been making slow, steady progress toward reconciling with you. He could feel it in the way your smiles came a little easier, how the conversations between you two were no longer strained, how you were starting to trust him again—bit by bit. He had convinced himself that, if he kept showing up, kept proving to you that he was different now, there might still be a chance. A chance to rebuild, to maybe even become more than friends. It was a fragile hope, but it kept him going.

That fragile hope was shattered the moment he found out about Ricky.

It wasn’t as though you had hidden anything from him. In fact, Spencer hadn’t even realized you had been seeing someone else. It wasn’t until Penelope, in her usual excitement, let it slip in the bullpen during lunch. “Oh my god, have you met Y/N’s new squeeze, Ricky? They’re so lovely!” she had gushed to JJ and Derek, who nodded along.

Spencer’s heart dropped into his stomach.

He had been standing just a few feet away, filing paperwork, and the sound of Ricky’s name hit him like a freight train. His fingers froze mid-motion, and the world seemed to blur around him. You’re seeing someone? Ricky? When had this happened?

He couldn’t stop himself from listening in, trying to gather as much as he could without fully intruding.

“Yeah, Ricky’s super sweet. Y/N seems really happy with them,” JJ added, smiling as she sipped her coffee. “It’s nice to see her like this after everything.”

Happy? Spencer’s mind raced, the weight of that word sinking in. You were happy—with someone else. Someone who wasn’t him. He clenched his fists, trying to steady his breathing as the realization settled deep in his chest. You had moved on. While he had been working his way back into your life, trying to earn your trust, you had found someone else. And not just anyone—someone you were happy with.

Spencer tried to shake it off, tried to focus on his work, but the jealousy and hurt were gnawing at him, louder with each passing second. The idea of you with someone else, of someone else holding the place he had wanted to hold for so long, made his chest tighten painfully. He had been so sure that if he just kept at it, if he just kept being patient, eventually you’d see he had changed.

But now… now he wasn’t sure what to think.

Later that day, Spencer found you by the coffee machine, and though he had planned to act normal, the words came out before he could stop them. “So, I hear you’re seeing someone?” His voice was tighter than he’d intended, and you looked up, surprised by the edge in his tone.

“Yeah,” you said slowly, studying his expression. “Ricky.” You didn’t elaborate, but Spencer could see the softness in your eyes, the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips when you said their name. It made his stomach churn.

He swallowed, trying to keep his emotions in check. “You’re happy?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer.

You nodded, your smile more assured now. “Yeah, I am. Ricky’s... really good to me.” There was a contentment in your voice, the kind of contentment Spencer hadn’t heard from you in a long time. And that’s when it hit him—this wasn’t just a fling or a rebound. Ricky was important to you.

Spencer felt his chest tighten even further. He wanted to be happy for you—he did. But the jealousy, the frustration, and the deep sense of loss clouded everything. He had spent so long trying to make things right between you, and now it felt like he was too late. He had lost you, and it hurt more than he ever expected.

“You deserve to be happy,” Spencer finally said, forcing the words out despite the lump in his throat. “And... if Ricky makes you happy, then... that’s all that matters.”

You looked at him, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard. There was something vulnerable in the way he was standing there, like he was on the edge of something, trying to hold it together.

“Thank you, Spencer,” you said softly, not entirely sure what else to say. You could feel the tension between you two, the undercurrent of something unspoken still hanging in the air.

Spencer nodded, his hands in his pockets, trying to mask the turmoil he felt inside. He wanted to fight for you, to tell you that he still had feelings for you, that he wasn’t ready to step aside. But he also knew that your happiness had to come first, no matter how much it hurt. He had waited too long, hesitated too much, and now he was seeing the consequences.

Over the next few days, Spencer wrestled with his feelings. On one hand, he wanted to be selfish, to try and win you back, to show you that he was capable of being the person you needed. But on the other hand, he knew that wasn’t fair to you. You had found someone who treated you with the consistency and care you deserved, someone who didn’t leave you questioning where you stood. Spencer had to face the reality that he had lost his chance.

But the hardest part was realizing that, in his jealousy and frustration, he still cared more about your happiness than his own feelings. And that was the most painful truth of all.

Spencer paced back and forth in the bullpen after everyone else had gone for the evening. He had been trying to focus, trying to distract himself with paperwork, but his thoughts kept circling back to you and Ricky. The jealousy was suffocating, and he needed to vent before he exploded.

Derek was leaning against a desk, watching Spencer unravel. He hadn’t said anything yet, but he knew the kid was on edge. He’d seen it coming for a while, the tension between you and Spencer thick enough to cut with a knife.

Finally, Spencer couldn’t hold it in anymore. “I don’t get it,” he blurted out, frustration clear in his voice. “I’ve been trying, Derek. I’ve been patient, I’ve been showing up, trying to be there for her, and... and then Ricky comes along.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk forming on his face. “So that’s what this is about,” he said knowingly. “You jealous?”

“Jealous?” Spencer repeated, practically scoffing. “Of course I’m jealous! How could I not be? She’s with Ricky now, and they’re... they’re everything I should have been. Steady, consistent, caring—everything she deserves.”

Derek’s smirk only grew as he watched Spencer spiral, but he didn’t interrupt. He knew Spencer needed to get this off his chest, and, well, he’d been waiting for this moment. He knew something had been brewing between you two for ages.

Spencer continued, his pacing more frantic now. “I missed my chance, and I know it’s my fault. I messed up. I pushed her away when she needed me, and now... she’s moved on. And the worst part is, she’s happy, Derek. I saw it in her eyes when she talked about Ricky. She’s happy, and I—” He stopped, running a hand through his hair, his voice breaking. “I don’t even know if I can be mad about it, because I want her to be happy. But it hurts like hell.”

Derek crossed his arms, nodding slowly. He had always known Spencer had feelings for you, even if the kid hadn’t admitted it to himself for a long time. Now, seeing him come apart like this over you, Derek couldn’t help but feel a bit smug—but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be there for his friend.

“Look, man,” Derek started, trying to keep his voice steady, “I’ve been waiting for this conversation for a while. You’ve had feelings for Y/N forever, and I knew something was going on between you two, even if you were too stubborn to see it.”

Spencer stopped pacing and looked at Derek, his frustration clear. “How is that supposed to help me right now?”

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. “What I’m saying is, this whole thing with Ricky? It doesn’t mean it’s over for you and Y/N. Yeah, she’s happy, and yeah, it hurts like hell because you care about her. But you’ve got to stop thinking about what you should have done and start focusing on what you’re going to do next.”

Spencer frowned, his arms crossed defensively. “And what am I supposed to do, Derek? She’s with Ricky now. I don’t want to come between them.”

Derek leaned in a little, his expression softening but still firm. “I’m not saying you should swoop in and try to break them up. But you don’t have to give up either. You want to be in Y/N’s life? Then keep being her friend. Keep being there for her. Let her see the real you—the guy who’s learned from his mistakes.”

Spencer sighed, slumping into a chair, his frustration giving way to exhaustion. “I don’t know if that’s enough.”

Derek walked over and clapped a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Kid, sometimes it’s not about doing the big, dramatic thing. Sometimes it’s about showing up, consistently, day after day, and letting her see who you really are. And if Ricky’s the one that makes her happy, then yeah, you’re gonna have to step aside. But if she starts seeing what I’ve seen for a long time—what I think she saw for a long time, too—then maybe you still have a chance.”

Spencer looked up at Derek, his heart heavy but grateful for the support. “You really think I still have a chance?”

Derek grinned, leaning back. “You never know, Pretty Boy. I’ve seen crazier things happen. But whatever you do, don’t give up just because it hurts right now. You’re too smart to throw in the towel without a fight.”

Spencer nodded, letting Derek’s words sink in. He wasn’t sure what the future held, but one thing was clear—he wasn’t ready to walk away from you, not yet. And maybe, just maybe, Derek was right. Maybe showing up, day after day, was how he could finally prove to you that he was worth it.

And even if it hurt, even if it tore him apart inside to see you with someone else, he was willing to wait—if it meant having another chance with you.

—

It was an ordinary afternoon at the BAU, the usual hustle of agents moving around, paperwork piling up, and the sound of phones ringing in the background. Spencer sat at his desk, trying to focus on the case file in front of him, though his thoughts kept drifting. He was still grappling with his conversation with Derek the night before, still trying to figure out where he stood in this whole mess with you and Ricky.

Then, the moment he had dreaded arrived.

You were at your desk, focused on your work, when the doors to the bullpen opened. Spencer barely noticed at first, but then he heard your voice, light and filled with surprise. "Ricky!" you exclaimed.

His heart clenched immediately. Ricky's here? He looked up, and there they were, standing in front of you, holding a bag of takeout with a bright, beaming smile. Ricky was undeniably attractive—tall, fit, with an effortless style that made them stand out. Spencer’s stomach twisted with jealousy the moment he laid eyes on them. He couldn’t help but notice how perfect Ricky looked standing beside you, the two of you fitting together in a way that felt both natural and unfairly harmonious.

You smiled warmly, standing up to greet Ricky, the happiness evident in your eyes. It was a look Spencer hadn’t seen in a long time, and the sight of it—of how they made you feel—tore him apart inside. Ricky leaned in to kiss your cheek, their affection for you clear as day.

“I brought you lunch,” Ricky said, holding up the bag. “Figured you could use a break.”

You laughed softly, looking at them like they had just handed you a treasure. “You’re the best. Thank you.”

Spencer couldn’t take his eyes off the interaction, though he desperately wanted to look away. His mind was screaming at him to stop torturing himself, but his body refused to move. The way you smiled at Ricky, the ease with which you stood close to them—it all felt like a punch to the gut. Spencer could practically feel the walls closing in on him, his insecurities clawing at his insides.

He hadn’t expected this. He wasn’t prepared to see how good the two of you looked together, how happy you seemed. The rational part of him knew it wasn’t fair to be upset; you deserved happiness, and Ricky clearly made you happy. But the irrational, jealous part of him—the part that still wanted you—was screaming at the injustice of it all.

Before Spencer could even think about leaving, you spotted him.

“Spencer!” you called out, waving him over. “Come say hi.”

He froze for a split second, forcing himself to stand up and walk toward you. Every step felt heavier, like wading through quicksand. When he reached you, he tried to keep his expression neutral, but his heart was pounding in his chest.

“Hi,” Spencer said, his voice a little tight but polite. His eyes flicked between you and Ricky, trying to hide the jealousy swirling in his gut.

Ricky smiled warmly, extending a hand. “You must be Spencer. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Spencer shook their hand, feeling a twinge of resentment bubbling up inside him. “Yeah, nice to meet you,” he replied, his tone short, though he didn’t mean it to be. He quickly released Ricky’s hand, feeling like his skin was burning from the contact. His mind was spinning, trying to process how calm and put together Ricky seemed, compared to the storm raging inside him.

“I brought Y/N some lunch,” Ricky said, smiling again, glancing over at you with such ease and affection. “Thought she might be too busy to grab something.”

Spencer nodded, his mouth dry. “That’s... thoughtful,” he said, though it took effort to get the words out. The thought of Ricky being so caring, so attentive, made his chest tighten painfully. That used to be his role—being there for you, knowing when you needed support.

The three of you stood there for a moment, the awkwardness thick in the air—at least for Spencer. You, however, seemed blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil, still smiling brightly at Ricky, completely comfortable in their presence.

“Well, I’ll let you two enjoy your lunch,” Spencer said quickly, his throat tight. He couldn’t stand to watch any more of this. He gave a stiff nod and turned to head back to his desk, but not before catching a glimpse of the two of you exchanging a look—one that felt intimate, full of unspoken affection. It was the kind of look that made his heart feel like it was cracking open.

As he sat back down at his desk, Spencer’s mind raced, replaying the image of you with Ricky. They were everything Spencer wasn’t—confident, calm, and seemingly perfect for you. He had hoped that his efforts to rebuild trust, to show you that he cared, would be enough. But seeing you with Ricky made him realize just how far away that possibility felt.

Inside, Spencer was dying. His jealousy clawed at him, and no matter how hard he tried to focus on his work, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and Ricky. About how happy you looked. About how he had missed his chance.

—

It all came to a head during a case that had gone from bad to worse. You and Spencer had been assigned together, and from the moment you found yourselves alone, the tension between you was palpable. Every word exchanged was brief, clipped, and filled with the renewed weight of what had been left unsaid for months. The entire team had been tracking a dangerous and unpredictable unsub, one who had managed to evade capture for days despite the best efforts of the BAU. He was intelligent, calculating, and every lead you followed seemed to lead you into another dead end, tightening the pressure on all of you.

The unsub had taken a particular interest in his victims, following them for days, learning their routines, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He had shown a pattern of escalating violence, and you all knew it was only a matter of time before he found his next victim. The team had been working around the clock, exhausted and on edge, but now things were spiraling out of control.

Late into the evening, a tip came through—an address tied to one of the unsub’s known aliases. You and Spencer were dispatched to check it out, sent ahead while the rest of the team secured other locations. The drive there had been silent, neither of you wanting to broach the thick tension hanging in the air.

The house was isolated, sitting at the end of a long dirt road, and as soon as you arrived, you could sense something was wrong. The place was eerily quiet, too quiet. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and instinctively, you and Spencer exchanged a tense glance, wordlessly communicating the same thought: This feels like a trap.

The two of you moved cautiously, guns drawn, as you entered the darkened house. Every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet seemed to echo in the oppressive silence, heightening the anxiety already clawing at your insides. Spencer stayed close behind you, the tension between you morphing into something different—something focused and sharp. You both knew you had to rely on each other now, no matter what had passed between you before.

The house was a maze of narrow hallways and closed doors, each one a potential danger. The unsub could be anywhere, lying in wait, ready to strike. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you approached the last room on the second floor. A faint sound caught your attention—a shuffle, like someone moving inside.

You nodded to Spencer, your breath quickening as you prepared to breach the door. He gave you a tight nod in return, his eyes never leaving yours. In that moment, despite everything that had gone unsaid, you trusted him completely. There was no room for the emotional wreckage between you, not here, not now. It was just you and Spencer, partners in the field, as it had always been.

You kicked the door in, gun raised, ready for whatever was waiting on the other side.

The room was empty.

For a split second, relief washed over you—until you heard it. A creak behind you. The unsub had been hiding, waiting, and before you could turn, you were slammed into the wall with a force that knocked the wind out of you. Your gun clattered to the ground as you struggled to regain your footing, your vision swimming.

Spencer reacted instantly, lunging toward the unsub, but the man was fast—too fast. He shoved Spencer back, sending him crashing into a table, and you could hear the wood splinter as Spencer groaned in pain.

Then shots were fired, the deafening cracks of gunfire ringing through the warehouse as adrenaline surged through your body. The world seemed to slow down in that moment, every sound and movement heightened, as you and Spencer dove for cover. Your feet barely touched the ground before you felt it—a sharp, searing pain tearing through your arm, hot and immediate. A bullet had grazed you, cutting through flesh, sending a shockwave of agony radiating down to your fingertips. You gasped, stumbling, the sudden pain momentarily overwhelming you.

"Y/N!" Spencer’s voice cut through the chaos, filled with raw panic as he reached for you, his hands grabbing your jacket and pulling you behind a stack of crates. His grip was urgent but gentle, protective as he maneuvered you out of the line of fire.

Your vision blurred for a moment, the pain in your arm throbbing in sync with your rapid heartbeat. You pressed your hand to the wound instinctively, trying to stop the blood that was already starting to soak through your sleeve. It wasn’t deep, but it hurt like hell.

Spencer was crouched beside you, his body practically pressed against yours as he shielded you from any further shots. His eyes, wide with fear, flickered down to your arm. His hands hovered over you, trembling slightly, unsure where to touch without hurting you more.

"You're bleeding," he muttered, his voice thick with worry as he gingerly pushed your sleeve up to get a better look at the wound. His face was pale, his jaw clenched tightly as he surveyed the damage.

“I’m fine,” you managed to grit out, even though your arm was screaming in pain. You could see the fear in his eyes, how he was barely holding it together.

“You’re not fine,” Spencer insisted, his voice a low whisper as he pressed his hand firmly over your wound, trying to stop the bleeding. His hand was warm against your cold skin, grounding you in the chaos. “You’re losing blood,” he added, his tone betraying the panic he was trying so hard to keep at bay.

For a moment, everything else seemed to fade—the gunfire, the danger, the chaos surrounding you. It was just you and Spencer, his eyes locked on yours, his fear for you palpable. You had seen Spencer like this before, always worrying about others, but this was different. This was more than just concern for a partner in the field. This was desperation, a kind of fear you hadn’t seen in him before—like he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.

His breath was shaky as he applied more pressure to your arm, his focus completely on you. “Stay with me, okay?” His voice cracked slightly, betraying the emotions he was trying to hold back.

“I’m fine, Spencer,” you whispered, trying to smile through the pain, though it came out more like a grimace.

But Spencer didn’t smile back. He was too focused, too panicked. His fingers pressed into your wound, his movements methodical, yet you could see how much this was affecting him. Every time you winced in pain, his face tightened, like he was the one being hurt.

“We need to get out of here,” he muttered, his eyes scanning the room for an exit, for any sign of the unsub. The weight of his words hung in the air, but even more than that was the unspoken fear—he wasn’t just scared for your life. He was scared for the things that hadn’t been said between you, for the way things had been left unresolved.

But right now, it wasn’t the time to deal with the emotional storm brewing between the two of you. The only thing that mattered was getting out alive.

“I can’t lose you,” Spencer whispered, almost too softly for you to hear.

You blinked, confused, the pain in your arm momentarily forgotten. “What?”

“I can’t lose you,” he repeated, louder this time, his voice trembling. His eyes met yours, filled with an intensity you hadn’t seen in him in a long time. “I love you.”

The confession hit you like a blow, the words settling into your chest, heavy and painful. This wasn’t the time for this—not now, not with the unsub hunting you both down, not after everything. But the rawness in his voice, the fear in his eyes—it was undeniable. Spencer was terrified, not just of the unsub but of losing you. And not just as a friend, but as something more.

“You can’t be serious,” you hissed, anger flaring inside you despite the circumstances.

He looked pained, as if this hurt him just as much as it had hurt you. “I thought I wasn’t good enough for you, that I’d mess everything up. Please, Y/N, I—”

“You don’t get to do this now!” you cut him off, the frustration boiling over. “You don’t get to confess your feelings when you know I’ve moved on, just because you suddenly realized you want me!”

Spencer’s face fell, guilt and desperation swirling in his eyes. “I know it’s unfair. I know I messed up, but I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t stand seeing you with someone else. Please, Y/N, just—”

“Why?” you shouted, your voice breaking as you fought through the emotions that had been bubbling under the surface for so long. “Why now? Why did you reject me in the first place if you felt this way?”

The pain in your voice seemed to hit him hard, and for a moment, Spencer was silent, struggling to find the words. “I was scared,” he finally admitted, his voice trembling. “I was scared of ruining what we had, scared that I wasn’t enough. I thought pushing you away would be better for you. But it wasn’t. I know that now.”

Tears stung at your eyes, the hurt and anger you’d buried for months now bubbling to the surface. “You don’t get to decide what’s better for me, Spencer. You don’t get to push me away and then pull me back when it’s convenient for you.”

Spencer’s voice cracked, his desperation clear. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I love you. I need you. Please, Y/N, leave Ricky. Give me another chance. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, torn between the raw sincerity in Spencer’s voice and the betrayal you still felt. You couldn’t deny that part of you still loved him. You had never stopped. But how was any of this fair? How could he expect you to just walk away from someone who had treated you with the respect and care Spencer hadn’t given you when you needed it most?

Before you could respond, the unsub’s footsteps grew closer, and the immediate danger snapped you both back to reality. There wasn’t time for this—there wasn’t time to unravel the mess of emotions that Spencer had just dumped into your lap. You had to survive this first.

The footsteps had stopped, and the sudden silence was deafening. It was too quiet, the kind of stillness that set your nerves on edge, making you hyper-aware of every creak and distant noise in the warehouse. You tried to focus through the pain in your arm, your breath coming out in ragged gasps as you pressed your back against the crates. Spencer was beside you, but his back was turned, his focus drawn away as the weight of everything between you became too much for him to handle in that moment.

You were about to say something, when suddenly a cold, rough hand clamped over your mouth. Before you could react, the unsub yanked you to your feet, pulling you backward with a force that made your body jerk violently. The pain in your arm shot through you, but the fear was stronger. You struggled to breathe, your heart hammering in your chest as the unsub dragged you back into the shadows, his hand tight around your mouth, muffling any sound you could make.

Spencer didn’t notice. His mind had been racing, consumed by the danger you were in, by how much harder it had become to even look at you knowing how badly he had hurt you. He had turned away for just a second—just a second—and that’s all it had taken. You were gone before he could register the absence of your presence, before he could feel the shift in the air.

You thrashed against the unsub, your hands clawing at his arm as he pulled you further away, deeper into the warehouse, but he was too strong. His grip tightened around your face, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered, "Make one sound, and I’ll kill him first.”

Your blood ran cold. You knew he meant Spencer.

You stopped struggling, your breath coming out in shallow, panicked gasps, your mind racing as you tried to figure out a way out of this. You couldn’t let Spencer get hurt because of you. You couldn’t let this man take you away without a fight, but the threat was clear. One wrong move, one wrong sound, and it wouldn’t be just your life at risk.

But then Spencer turned back. He had been about to say something—ask if you were ready to move—but when he glanced over and saw that your spot beside him was empty, his heart stopped.

"Y/N?" His voice came out in a panic, eyes scanning the dimly lit space for any sign of you. It was too quiet, and the stillness of your absence sent his stomach into a free fall.

"Y/N!" Spencer shouted, his voice rising in fear, echoing off the walls. His heart raced as he spun in circles, desperately trying to figure out what had happened. The adrenaline from earlier flooded back, stronger now, sharp and cold. How had he let this happen? How had he let you get taken right in front of him?

He rushed forward, frantic, his mind clouded with the worst possibilities. Every second that passed felt like an eternity. The thought of you in the unsub’s grip, hurt, taken—gone—was unbearable. Spencer couldn’t breathe. His chest constricted with fear, and the guilt, the crushing weight of his failure, suffocated him.

"Y/N!" he called again, his voice breaking as he stumbled forward, every nerve in his body alight with desperation. He had let you slip away. He had failed to protect you. And now he was losing you—not just emotionally, but physically.

Spencer’s eyes scanned the dark warehouse, heart hammering in his chest, until he finally spotted the unsub, gripping you tightly, his hand still covering your mouth. Your eyes were wide with fear, but when they locked with Spencer’s, he saw more than just fear. He saw helplessness, anger, and beneath all of it, trust. You were trusting him to get you out of this.

“Let her go!” Spencer shouted, his voice shaking but resolute. His gun was raised, aimed directly at the unsub, but his mind was racing, terrified of making one wrong move that could put you in even more danger. The unsub shifted behind you, pulling you tighter against his body, using you as a shield.

"You think I’ll just let her go? You think I’m that stupid?" the unsub snarled, his voice thick with menace.

Spencer’s throat tightened. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to act, to do something, but the unsub had you, and one wrong move could end everything. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen.

"Take me instead!" Spencer suddenly blurted out, his voice desperate but filled with determination. His eyes never left yours as he spoke, his heart pounding in his chest. "Just... take me. Let her go, and I’ll come with you. You want leverage? Take me, not her."

Your eyes widened in shock, the pain in your arm forgotten as the weight of Spencer’s words hit you. He was offering himself, offering his life—for you. The unsub hesitated, clearly surprised by the sudden offer. He loosened his grip on you just slightly, his eyes flickering with consideration as he looked between you and Spencer.

"You think I’m going to fall for that?" the unsub growled, though you could feel his grip faltering as Spencer’s words sunk in.

But Spencer didn’t back down. He stepped forward, lowering his gun, his expression resolute. "I’m unarmed," he said, his voice steady despite the terror coursing through him. "You want to get out of here? Take me with you. Let her go."

Your heart pounded as you watched Spencer put himself in danger, his life on the line, all for you. Tears stung at your eyes, emotions swirling inside you—fear, anger, and above all, a deep, overwhelming sense of love.

The unsub shoved you forward slightly, his grip loosening enough for you to gasp for air, but he still kept his arm tightly around your waist, the threat still lingering. Spencer’s eyes stayed locked on yours, silently promising that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

Just as the unsub’s grip tightened again, a gun raised to Spencer, the sound of footsteps echoed through the warehouse. The team burst in, guns drawn, and before the unsub could react, they took him down in a hail of bullets. The unsub crumpled to the ground, his grip on you finally releasing.

You stumbled forward, breathless, your arm burning with pain. The world spun for a moment, the chaos of the situation hitting you all at once. But then, Spencer was there. He was at your side in an instant, his hands on your shoulders, his eyes scanning you for injuries, his expression wild with fear and relief.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he looked you over, his hands shaking slightly. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

You could barely process the words. The adrenaline was still pumping through your veins, and the weight of what had just happened—what Spencer had just done for you—was crashing down around you. He had offered himself up, put his life on the line without hesitation, all to save yours.

"I'm... I'm okay," you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked into his eyes. There was so much you wanted to say, but the words were stuck in your throat, tangled with the emotions swirling inside you.

Spencer’s face was pale, his breaths uneven, but the way he looked at you was filled with nothing but relief. And in that moment, standing there with him in the aftermath of everything, you realized just how much you still loved him. How much you had always loved him. It was undeniable, impossible to ignore anymore.

Without thinking, you threw your arms around him, holding him close despite the pain in your arm. "Thank you," you whispered against his chest, your voice breaking with emotion. "You could’ve been killed, Spencer."

Spencer wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against him, as if letting you go might mean losing you again. His voice was hoarse, filled with the same raw emotion. "I couldn’t let him take you. I couldn’t lose you."

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. "Spencer, you... you put yourself in danger. For me. I don’t understand... after everything, why would you—"

“Because I love you,” Spencer interrupted, his voice soft but firm. His eyes locked onto yours, no more hesitation, no more fear. “I’ve always loved you. And I was an idiot to ever push you away. I didn’t deserve you then, and I probably don’t deserve you now, but I couldn’t just stand by and watch you get hurt. I couldn’t... I can’t live without you.”

The raw sincerity in his voice left you breathless. Everything you had been feeling, all the hurt, the love, the anger, bubbled up inside you. But in that moment, as you stared into Spencer’s eyes, all you could feel was the overwhelming love you still had for him.

You reached up, cupping his face with your good hand, your voice barely above a whisper. "I still love you, Spencer. But you broke my heart. How is any of this fair?"

Spencer’s eyes filled with regret, his hands holding yours tightly. “I know. I know I hurt you, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll let me. But please... don’t go back to Ricky. Don’t let this be the end for us. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just... give me a second chance.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, torn between the love you still had for him and the fear of being hurt again. But as you stood there, Spencer’s arms wrapped around you, you realized that you had already made your choice.

With a deep breath, you whispered, “We’ll figure it out. But don’t think for a second I’m letting you off easy.”

Spencer’s face softened with relief, a small, shaky smile tugging at his lips. "I wouldn’t expect anything less."

And in that moment, despite the chaos, despite the danger you had just survived, you knew that the two of you would find a way forward—together.

—

Ricky swirled the ice in their glass, chuckling softly as they leaned back in their chair, the dim light of the bar casting shadows over their face. “I still think it’s messed up,” they said with a grin, shaking their head in disbelief.

Derek, sitting across from them, just smirked, taking a slow sip of his beer before setting the glass back down on the table with a quiet clink. “Nah,” he said, leaning back in his chair, completely unbothered. “I knew it would work.”

Ricky raised an eyebrow, their smile widening as they took a sip of their own drink. “You set me up to date her just to push her and Spencer together? That’s some next-level matchmaking, man. I’m surprised you didn’t end up on a bad side of this.”

Derek shrugged casually, his smirk never fading. “I had a feeling it was the push Pretty Boy needed. Y/N and Spencer? They’ve been dancing around each other for too long. I just gave ‘em a little... incentive.”

Ricky laughed, a low, amused sound. “Incentive? You mean you hired your friend to fake date her so she’d realize she was in love with someone else?”

“Hey, I didn’t say fake date,” Derek shot back with a playful grin. “You’re a catch, Ricky. I just knew you’d make her happy enough for Spencer to lose his mind.”

Ricky rolled their eyes but couldn’t stop laughing. “And here I thought I was the rebound.”

“Nah,” Derek said, shaking his head. “You were the wake-up call. Spencer needed to see what he was missing, and you? You helped him get there. Trust me, they’ll thank you for it one day.”

Ricky took another sip, still grinning. “Maybe. But still, man. Messed up.”

Derek just winked, lifting his beer in a mock toast. “To love, manipulation, and getting things done.”

Ricky clinked their glass with his, shaking their head with a laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

"That’s why you agreed to it," Derek said with a wide grin, taking another long drink. The audience had no idea, but now the truth was out, revealed in the easy banter between the two friends. It had all been part of the plan—a plan to push you and Spencer together once and for all.

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yuukirita · 1 month ago

Note

Sorry to bother, I'm not good at English but hey. So...I have a question about how DeceptiBee's Megateon and Optimus would act if he met BabyBee I have that curiosity 👀

I love your stories and your drawings 🥰

I wanted to draw it out but the art is not arting today :1

So let me WRITE is out. eham:

Both of them stood, side by side but not together, watching the small yellow bot- smaller their their usual yellow bot. They looked similar- but surely it could not be...

"...You guys look stressed." the young one said, sounding older than he should- sounded like Bee.

Well frag.

Optimus Prime swooped up the sparkling the moment he saw Megatron try to do the same. Keeping him away for the other.

Megatron looked at him and snarled. Then looked at the sparkling, face softening lightly "I wouldn't hurt a sparkling, Prime."

Said sparkling, wide eyed, looked at them both. Tiny servo (How could it be so small???) tapping at something on his forearm.

"That is not what I worry you would do to the young one." he replied.

"Oh you're just afraid I'll take him away from you?" He rolls his optics "You are a fool. Bee chose to follow me of his own free will. You simply cannot deal with the possibility another one may do it if given the chance"

The tiny B-127 whispered into a comm on his wrist 'hot rod... I think the shenanigans have cough up to us now... Think you can bring me back?'

Optimus heard and gave him a curious look before speaking to Megatron again "This in neither the time or place for this, Megatron. We must help this one get home. Isn't that right, Little Bee?"

BabyBee hid his comm as an unknown voice came trough- muffling the answer as he looked up with wide nervous optics " What do you mean we broke the space bridge? Ahah, I'm not from another dimension you're crazy-" He wiggled out of his grip with practiced ease and plopped on the ground as Megatron walked closer.

"You broke a space bridge?" Megatron asked "Another dimension? How did this happen- you are far too young to be left unsurpevised near that kind of technology."

Babybee looked up at both of them and spoke into his comm again "I think they're onto me-"

Then a voice that sounded exacltly Like Optimus Prime came trough the comm "B-127, you're grounded."

Bee groaned as Megatron chuckled at Prime "Of course..."

Prime frowned "What?"

Megatron looked back to the young yellow bot arguing with his Optimus Prime over comms "Should have figured he was yours. Troublemakers make troublemakers. Mine wouldn't have been caught."

#awsering messages #deceptibee au #babybee au #might draw this later #I do want to #The art is not arting today #bumblebee #b 127 #optimus prime #tf one megatron #TravelerBabyBee au

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sttoru · 11 months ago

Note

cuddling w choso as he gives reader small kisses around their face <3

·.⌇𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. choso kamo x female reader. fluff; sfw. reader gets called ‘baby’. please take it easy on me bcs its my first time writing for this man t_t not beta read!

choso is super clingy when he’s with you. when you try to leave your bed in the morning, he pulls you right back. back into his warm embrace so you wouldn’t suffer from the cold temperatures. you don’s protest and simply allow yourself to be dragged back into the arms of your beloved.

“choso, tickles.” giggles leave your lips as choso plants several kisses on your skin. they’re those ticklish yet sweet ones—the feeling of his lips grazing gently against your cheeks makes you smile. your lover takes his chance once you speak and places a few more pecks on your prominent cheekbones.

he hums, a low sound reverberating through his chest. choso refuses to let go of you. his hands are firmly holding you down by your waist. his eyes are closed like he’s enjoying every second of this, “sorry. can’t stop.”

and he truly cannot. it’s like your body was a magnet—pulling his in by simply being near him. your fingers play with the black strands of choso’s hair while he leaves a trail of kisses down your jawline. it’s soothing to him. nearly makes him purr in content. he can’t help but give your chin a swift, small lick.

“hey!” you pout and try to wipe the saliva off. there is a humourous glint in choso’s eyes—your adorable reaction being exactly what he was aiming for. his hand interlocks with yours, pinning them above your head. his thumb rubs yours gently while his eyes scan your face.

choso grins once he targets another spot, “one more. promise it’s the last one.”

a famous excuse you hear all the time. your lover leans in and his lips attach to the skin between your brows. a delicate kiss that causes your body to shiver in delight. as much as you want to start your day, you also wouldn’t mind staying in bed. especially when choso is being this affectionate.

he pulls back, his tongue darting out lightly to run over his upper lip—from one side to the other. your heart flutters at the sight, your fingers moving his bangs to the side. it reveals that look in choso’s eyes; the yearning one. the one that shows you just how much he loves and craves to touch you.

“hmm,” choso’s voice was raspy. he looks smug with that grin tugging at his lips, but the light pink hue on his cheeks gave him an innocent look as well. “don’t be angry, baby, but. . .”

a silence falls between the two of you. you flutter your eyelashes in response, not knowing what choso is going to confess. his grip on your hand tightens, his other free hand running up to keep your chin upwards, exposing your neck to him.

“i may have lied,” choso mumbles before he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

you squirm a bit. his tongue swipes along your throat, his lips following that same trail. you expected this to happen. no matter how many times choso claims that a kiss would be 'the last one', it never stops there.

“hmph. liar,” you scold, though chuckle right afterwards. you can feel choso smiling against your skin, enjoying the jokey banter between the two of you. he could be a little too playful every now and then. you love it.

the black-haired man never stops his gentle caresses or kisses. he’s absolutely infatuated by you and is not afraid of showing it, “hehe, you can't blame me. you’re just so..”

choso pauses and thinks hard about a word—a word that describes you perfectly. he hums in thought and pulls his head back to look down at you. his eyes meet yours and his heart beats faster at the way you stare at him.

the look you give choso causes him to malfunction a little. he forgets to complete his sentence. instead, he goes for another kiss. on your lips directly.

you let out a small, muffled noise of surprise. your arms encircle his neck instantly to which he responds by squeezing your body tightly against his. the kiss continues for a couple seconds before choso reluctantly pulls away for some air.

his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. his cheeks are redder than before as he leans in close, almost going for another kiss. before his mouth lands on yours again, he completes his earlier sentence with a subtle smirk;

“ . .cute.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #choso x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso fluff #female reader

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megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms · 1 year ago

Text

The Strongest Cullen

Based on this request: I loved your Jasper headcanon! Could you write a fic with it? Like Jasper meets his mate, but she’s human and he’s scared he’ll hurt her because of his strong blood lust. After they get to know each other, the reader tells Jasper what she thinks(your headcanon) and that she knows he his stronger than he thinks and that he won’t hurt her.

Here you are! I apologize for the wait! Familiar characters are NEVER mine!

Fandom: Twilight

Warnings: Mentions of vampire diet(I mean, it's Twilight), Jasper is an anxious boy. Fluff!

Pairings/Characters: Jasper Hale x fem!reader, mentions of other Cullens, specifically Emmett.

Carlisle frowned at the look on his adopted son's face. While Jasper was always tense around humans at school, he had never come home looking so morose. "Jasper?" The blond looked at Carlisle and sighed. "My mate…is human." It didn't take long for Carlisle to catch the drift. "And you're worried you'll harm them?" Jasper nodded which caused Carlisle to ask about the bloodlust around the mate.

"I don't-I don't feel the need to drain her. Really, I hardly feel the bloodlust around her, but what happens if an accident happens to someone else while I'm around her? I'm the weakest link, we all know that, especially after what happened with Bella. If someone else is bleeding around us, I can't guarantee she won't be hurt as well."

Carlisle smiled a little and patted his son on the shoulder. "Jasper, I really don't think that will happen. If you don't feel the bloodlust with her, it's possible that she will actually be able to calm you. Maybe you should give her a chance. You know mates, true mates, are a rare find. You should give it a chance if that's what your heart is telling you no matter what anyone else says." Carlisle left Jasper to think on what he'd said.

*time skip*

Jasper couldn't fight his smile as you laughed after beating Emmett at Mario Kart…again. "I told you, Big Bear, you cannot beat me," you said with a giggle. Emmett pouted playfully and you leaned back into Jasper. A smile made its way to Jasper's face. He was more than happy that he gave loving you a chance. Still, he worried that something would happen to you. You were, by nature, fragile compared to him.

"What's on your mind, handsome?" you asked, carding your fingers through his hair. Jasper sighed before standing and reaching his hand out to you. You didn't hesitate even a moment in taking his hand. Jasper led you up to his room and closed the door. For a moment, Jasper said nothing. He had no idea how to approach this with you.

"Jasper? Are you okay?" you asked, looking up at him with such concern, the vampire melted. "There's something I need to tell you," he whispered. You sat down on the bed that Jasper, unbeknownst to you, had purchased simply so you would have somewhere to nap when you visited.

"Okay. You're scaring me a little so just…get it over with." Jasper chuckled a little to himself. If you were scared now, he could only imagine how scared you'd be after he told you. "I-that is-my family and I…we're not exactly normal." You snorted a little. "No shit. What's normal about being so damn beautiful it should be illegal? Or never, and I do mean NEVER eating even though your mom cooks like a gourmet chef? Or the fact that none of you look like you get any sleep? Or the fact that I'm always so calm around you?"

Jasper heard his family laughing downstairs and sighed. "Beautiful, you are not making this easy," he joked. You gave him a smile and took his hand. "I'm sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood a little. Whatever it is you have to tell me, I'm ready to listen."

"We're vampires." The words just came out, as easy as breathing. You blinked at him for a moment and for that moment, Jasper couldn't feel any emotion coming from you at all. It frightened him, honestly. But then as suddenly as it happened, you were back. "Vampires? O-Oh okay. Well that explains…a lot actually." Jasper couldn’t feel any fear from you. Just curiosity.

“I can feel that you have questions. Ask,” he stated. He wanted to get this over with, just in case you chose to break his heart. You pondered for a minute as Edward’s laughter drifted up to Jasper. Clearly the mind reader had heard something funny in your thoughts. “So you’ve got some vampiric powers or whatever, right?” Jasper nodded and a slight frown made your brows furrow. “Does that mean Emmett’s been letting me win Mario Kart?!”

Jasper stared for what felt like an eternity. Then, before he could stop himself, he began laughing. Really laughing for the first time in a very long time. “Really?” he asked between laughs, “I tell you to ask questions and that’s what comes to your mind?” You shrugged a little. “Look, I expect to cream your brother at video games fair and square.”

“You, Darling, are something else.” You beamed and gently tugged at his hand so he would sit down next to you. “Got you to laugh, didn’t I? Jasper, if you thought I was going to run, then you clearly don’t know me at all. We’ve been together for what, eleven months now? If you were going to hurt me, you would have already.” Jasper’s smile dropped almost instantly, but he replied, “There’s more. Some vampires have…gifts.”

“Since you’re telling me this, I assume you’re one of those vampires?” He nodded. “I am. I’m an empath. I can sense and influence anything anyone is feeling. Sometimes it even happens by accident. Edward’s a telepath.” It was in that moment your face finally showed fear, but that conflicted with what Jasper was feeling from you.

“Y-You mean Edward can read minds? Like every mind?” Jasper confirmed, but mentioned that Bella was the exception. “Oh that’s…not good.” Jasper arched a brow and smirked a little. “Don’t look at me like that. You are insanely good-looking and there may have been a few…not so innocent thoughts a time or two.” Jasper shook his head fondly and chuckled. “Really though, why are you telling me this now? Has something happened?” Jasper denied it, but replied, “It’s only a matter of time though. I-I’m not as…strong as the rest of my family when it comes to our diet.”

“Your diet?” you asked, squeezing Jasper’s cold hand a little tighter. “We feed on animals. It sustains us, but not as well as human blood. I’m newest to the diet besides Bella and have struggled the most. I’m a weak link.” Your confusion grew in an instant. “Why do you say that? Do you think you’re dangerous to me? Do you want MY blood?” Jasper immediately denied your thoughts. “No. I just need to warn you. Accidents have happened around me. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.” He then proceeded to tell you what happened with Bella and you asked a few questions.

Once you’d gotten your answers, you sat in silence for a little while. Jasper felt your emotions, confusion, curiosity, love, devotion. No fear, uncertainty, or disgust. That was a good sign. “What are you thinking, Darling?” he asked after a few minutes. “I don’t think you’re weak, Jasper.” His eyes widen. Had you not heard what he said? “What?”

“Think about it,” you told him, “You’re an empath. You said yourself that animal blood doesn’t satisfy as well as human blood.” At his nod, you continued, “Well then, it stands to reason that, when Bella gave herself that paper cut, you were all feeling some form of thirst, right?” Again, Jasper agreed. You nodded like you’d just solved a great mystery.

“There you go! You weren’t just feeling your own thirst, Jas. You were feeling Alice, Emmett, Rosie’s…everyone else’s as well. The thirst of seven vampires hitting you all at once. No wonder you snapped. You are absolutely not weak, Jasper Hale. In fact, I think you’re the strongest person I have ever known.”

Your impassioned words left Jasper speechless. His eyes filled with tears that would never fall. “I don’t deserve you. You are too good for me. You understand so much more than I thought you would. You’re compassionate and brilliant and I think I…love you, Y/N,” he admitted when he felt like he could finally speak again. You beamed at him. “Nonsense. You deserve all the love I have to give. And I love you too, Jasper. Fangs and all.” He rolled his eyes as you giggled.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @supernatural4life2022 @asgards-princess-of-mischief

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#twilight #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper x reader

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dinsbeskar · 2 months ago

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Evil Will Find Her (Sauron/F!Reader)

He has waited so long to have you again, he cannot wait until you reunite in the flesh; or:

Sauron gets off on thinking of you thinking of him, despite the distance in time and space between you

Sequel to In the Dark of the Night // AO3 Link

Songs to listen to: Through Glass by Stone Sour, Closer by Nine Inch Nails

I'm looking at you through the glass Don't know how much time has passed Oh God, it feels like forever But no one ever tells you that forever feels like home Sitting all alone inside your head

Warnings: smut! goo!Sauron, male masturbation, mentions of oral sex (female receiving), finger/P in V sex, biting, kinda rough sex, praise kink and degradation (only a little, he calls you a slut, sorry, he is Sauron though, man idk), Sauron POV, he is super down bad and also recovering from being literal goo

A/N: I tried so hard not to use the word 'goo' lmfao, considering that's what Sauron is for half the fic! So this is the sequel to In the Dark of the Night, the scenes will mirror each other but not quite... you'll see.

Word Count: 2.8k!

After centuries in the caverns beneath Forodwaith, he had finally escaped. Not that he was any closer to reclaiming you, not in his current state, a seething mass of something dark and primordial, but he could at last seek you out. The only thing he knew was hunger, consuming everything in his path; the only discernable notion in his mind, clouded and murky, was to find you. He had only an inkling that some time had passed since you'd been in his arms, and even less of an idea of where you would be, but he was patient. He could wait, as he had waited many times before for you.

Creature after pathetic creature he gathered and consumed, slowly regaining shreds of his former self, piece by tiny piece, until he was able to drag himself, formless and near-liquid, across the frozen wastelands of the North. The only guiding light in his current unfeeling state was the vague grasping notion of you, waiting for him, yearning and enduring for him, and it pushed him on, gave him strength to endure when all hope was lost.

His mind reaches out for you, across plains and rivers, over mountains and into the halls you now call home. The first time he does this, he has not the strength to make himself known to you, and can only regard you from afar. It takes all of his efforts to merely behold you for a second before you vanish in his mind's eye. If he was capable of sound, all of Middle Earth would have heard his guttural scream of frustration. However, in his current form, he emitted barely a weak gasp masquerading as an exasperated sigh, before falling still and unmoving for at least a week, unable to drag himself any further after weakening himself for just a glance at you. It was worth it. When he awakens, he tries again, and again, the effort lessening every time, but it still feels like forever until he finally regains enough power to reach out and touch you, a tingle across your lips, a tendril of his will wrapping around you.

You're seemingly unaware of his presence, though you react to the stimuli he provides. Your thoughts turn more and more to him, even as you try to push them away, heart shattered after so much time apart, the heartache he caused you in simply being himself. The more you push them away, the more they come unbidden, in your dreams and waking thoughts, until you can no longer ignore them.

This makes it easier for him, you leaving the door ajar, to slither into your mind and wrap himself around your heart once more. You thought you had moved on from his betrayal, the knowledge of his true self having shattered your desire to have him close. Your need for him however was not so easily undone; no matter how much you told yourself you were better off free of him and his inevitable path of destruction, your souls were inextricably bound together, and no earthly power could sunder you. In his primordial oozing state, the terrible ache deep in your souls, yearning for the touch of the other, was all he could feel, and he neither knew nor cared from whom it originated. It was all he could do, limbless and liquid, to revel unthinking in this torment, to bask and rot in the empty void between you; for to suffer in your absence was sweeter than never having known you at all.

The only salve for your unceasing ache was his touch on your skin, his words in your ear, his fëa wrapped around yours as your fervent light battles with his blazing darkness. And you would have it. He swore to you eons ago that you would never be without him; you cursed him for that promise a thousand times, and yet the thought of his desertion was a knife between the ribs.

He awakes in a freezing wooden wagon, lying on his back surrounded by bloody detritus as the pale morning light greets his rebirth. For a moment, he has no idea where he is, who he is, or how he came to be here. It is only by looking around, as he takes in the visceral scene before him, that it all comes flooding back.

White hot pain in his shoulders, between his ribs, daggers twisting in his gut.

Darkness, pitch black nothingness.

Hunger.

Centuries of freezing cold, leagues of endless empty wasteland.

You.

He can't catch his breath as he remembers the last time he saw you, guilt flooding through him in nauseous waves, the cruel twisted things he had said to you and the malice you had thrown back in return. He can't even conjure his wrath, grateful that you had abandoned Forodwaith in your fit of temper when you had, lest you'd been caught up in the events of his coronation.

Coronation. He inhales harshly, revelling in the cold air in his sinuses; the tiny sensations for which he must be thankful, he thought bitterly.

Weak with the effort of reconstituting himself, he slowly pushes himself to sit, idly rifling through the possessions of the unfortunate peasant who had so graciously provided him with the sustenance he needed. He begins to root through the sacks and chests, looking for anything to protect himself from the persistent chill outside. He gathers some clothes from a sack in the corner, pulling on a cloak haphazardly; in doing so, he knocks a stack of letters that cascade across the floor. One catches his attention.

He skims the contents and realises it is an old love letter, the page discoloured and brittle with age. The scrawled, pretty words are trifles in comparison to everything you have shared, but the way it is signed lingers in his memory.

Forever devoted, your Halbrand.

He does need a name after all.

With a smirk, he tosses the letter aside and makes his way towards the sunlit back of the wagon. The moment his bare feet touch the ground, he can't help but grin with relief.

In fact, to say he is relieved is an understatement. He is a Maia, one of the greatest of all beings in creation, reduced to crawling in the dirt for centuries. To regain any kind of fair form is a blessing, and it is with appreciation now that he regards his limbs, feels the cold hard ground beneath his bare feet, and finds clarity in the brisk northerly wind on his face. His first thought, as ever, is of you. Where are you, are you well, are you thinking of him? He senses that you are leagues away, but senses you he does. Satisfaction takes him over and he laughs, uplifted now that he finally knows for sure that he is on your mind.

Day becomes night, and he eventually stops to rest, unused to needing to do so; he muses over his small fire how you'll greet him when he returns. How he longs for your sweet kisses, however they'll feel in this strange form. He clings to the memory of your breath on his face, your laugh in his ear, the scent of your sweat-slicked skin beneath his. His longing turns to rage before long; the time you both had lost would never be regained. Your long lives would give you every chance to do so, but he cherished whatever time he spent with you, and this wasted time would not be forgotten.

He would have his revenge on the Uruk who dared defy him, who must have assumed merely destroying his physical form would kill him. More's the pity, for Sauron's wrath was great and his will greater. It might take a hundred years or a thousand, but his revenge would be as sweet as the memories he had of you, of the time together that had been stolen from you.

Usually he has no need for sleep, but in dreams, he can join you, so he lays down on the frozen ground next to the dying embers of his fire and waits for you. It's not long before he finds himself in your chambers, breathing in your scent. He has been here before, tried to make contact with you, but in his weakened state he could do nothing but watch you, every night feeling like forever without your touch. Now he can make himself known, and he does just that.

You're lying on your bed, and he thinks to lie down next to you, as he has so many times before, and stroke your hair and tell you he'll be with you soon, that he is counting the seconds until you're in his arms again.

However you surprise him, as you often do, even after all this time. It's what he loves most about you.

You're clearly focused on something, brow furrowed, and before he can slip into your mind further, you cast off the sheets, and trail a hand down to between your thighs. He can't help but grin as he realises what he is witness to. You used to become so flustered when he asked you to do this for him, to touch yourself and think of him, and even now your cheeks are red. His previous attempts to touch you have been in vain, like catching smoke in the wind, the veil between you thwarting his every effort. He brushes a finger over your face adoringly and you sigh contentedly. Did you feel that? He wonders, because as happy as he is to watch you chase your pleasure, he would much rather join in.

Watching you sweat and pant his name always does something delicious to him, satisfying that dark ever-present urge to defile and corrupt you. Savouring every filthy noise he elicits from you, the whines in your throat, the wet sounds of his cock inside you, dragging over every sensitive inch of flesh until there is no thought in your head but of him and your lovemaking.

Your tiny whimpers become moans as he delves between your thighs, delighting in how wet you are. It used to fascinate him, when he first bedded you, just how needy and slick you would get, and he can't deny that fascination never faded. He can't get enough of the taste of you, would happily subsist on you for the rest of his days, and you would probably let him, given the unearthly sounds currently escaping your lips.

His attention wanders to his own pleasure as he realises he is so fucking hard, and he is leagues away from being able to fuck you until you can't stand the next day. He hasn't explored this new form yet, and briefly wonders if you would approve. The peasant who revived him was mortal, and so he seems to have taken the form of a mortal man; would that repulse or thrill you? If you knew it was him, you wouldn't care, he knows this, but he still wonders.

He pulls out his cock and regards it, not having paid it much attention until now. It looks like any other, perhaps thicker than his last, a little longer maybe, but he doesn’t have much with which to compare. You would be the ultimate judge in that regard, and the only one that matters. Most importantly, it feels just as good in his fist as he dreams of you, fingers inside your needy cunt as you moan his name. How long it has been since he heard it, his breath hitches and he strokes faster, keeping in time with the thrusts he makes into you, using all his regained powers to satisfy you like only he knows.

"Are you my good girl, love?" He moans out loud as he has so many times before, not expecting a response but-

"Yes, for you, only you..." You whimper, arching your back, reaching for his touch, and he melts, forehead pressed against yours as he moans your name into the dark. How fucking perfect you are, how eager you are to be his, so ready and willing to fuck the shadows for him.

How times had changed since you saw each other last. It thrilled him to know you still wanted him, needed him, had put any thought of abandoning him from your mind, had embraced him as your husband, your lover, your protector, of course you had, and he arched into his fist as you keened under his attentions, leagues away in your bed.

How could you think for a second that you were not his, wholly and completely? That he could not simply find and have his way with you whenever he cared to? You must know that he would rather be your undoing than let you leave him.

He wants only to ravage you, to pin you down and leave your skin painted with bruises, marking you as his, trails of purple and blue leading to your aching cunt. To possess you, body and soul, chained to him for all eternity.

He would build a temple to your flesh, no, of your flesh, and desecrate it with his seed, worship you as his equal, pray to you with tender kisses and the blood of your enemies, if only to feel your skin on his, your light on his face once more.

He wraps a hand around your throat and groans, running his thumb across your skin and collecting your sweat.

"So good for me, so needy, so fucking perfect, waiting for me to fill you over and over," he moans as he leans down, phantom tongue swiping your throat, the salt of your sweat inflaming his senses all the more.

He wants nothing more than to bury himself within you, to climb inside you and never leave, if that is what it would take to never be parted from you again. He wonders how much of him you could take before your screams of pleasure turn to pain.

You're both so lost in your lust, he has no idea if you're here with him or he's there with you, but he'll take it greedily and without question.

He bites the shell of your ear, nipping just hard enough that you react, hand flying to your face. He grabs it and kisses your palm, rutting into you like an animal.

"Always so good for me," he whispers in your ear, willing you to hear him more than ever, "look how you take my cock so well, the way you stretch around me, always such a good little slut for me."

You asked him once how he could worship and degrade you in a single breath; he'd told you they were the same thing.

Whether the timing of his words is a coincidence, he is unsure; you come hard, orgasm wracking your body while you moan and keen under his spectral touch.

Your walls tighten around him, you both hiss with pleasure, and he can't hold back any longer, pleasure building to an unbearable crescendo. He lets loose a string of curses, spilling himself on his thighs, christening his new mortal form and gasping your name.

His tenuous link to your pleasure is broken, and he curses once more, wanting nothing more than to wrap himself around you, to fuck you through your orgasm until you're whining and overstimulated, too sensitive under his flaming touch.

There is no such thing as a chance meeting, every passing encounter preordained to fulfil a purpose, and he thanks the Valar every day that despite all he had suffered that they had put you in his path. Fate was no small thing and it had bound you all this time, unwavering in the face of defeat and suffering and war and Morgoth, all of which wanted to sunder you from him. It is with that thought that he presses on.

He meets a group of Men who are bound for a ship to take them across the sea for a new life. At first he wants nothing to do with it; he knows where he is going, finally going home, wherever you are. But the old man is insistent, that perhaps his path lays in the West.

There are no chance meetings. If the old man advises Numenor, then perhaps it is his destiny to seek the descendants of men who had destroyed his aspirations centuries ago; the long road of revenge will lead him back to you, of that he was certain.

#sauron x reader #halbrand x reader #annatar x reader #the rings of power #not me naming the two parts after an anastasia song lmfao #i was surprised when it came out more vulgar than part 1 but tbh it is from his pov and frankly he's not a nice person lmfao #it is what it is #but yeah he is fantasising about you and lets loose a little too much #you know that gentle lover he was in the last one #yeah nah #my fic

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leahswife · 9 months ago

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one of your girls

summary: part two of "where do we stand". now it's someone else's turn to visit you.

a/n: you asked for jenni, you shall receive. does that mean aitana's gone? no no. anywho, this got way more suggestive than i intended so minors dni. OFF IMMEDIATELY + jenni i am so sorry for the unholy thoughts 😭🙏

prequel, part one, part two, part three

"so, that thing you said back at the club."

jenni sat on the edge of her bed and leaned back on her elbows, legs spread like she owned the place. "what thing?" she asked, eyeing you up.

"that you wanted to do bad things to me." you answered simply, leaning against the wall in front of her. this was new to you, and you couldn't deny you were a bit nervous. but with aitana's rejection and jenni's constant teasing, a rush of confidence - that was probably fueled by the frustration both women were able to build up within you - flooded your body.

jenni smirked, "hm. what about it?" she cocked her head to the side, intrigued by you.

you slightly pushed yourself from the wall and started walking towards her, "how bad are they?" you asked, your tone low as you now stood in between her legs and looked down at her.

jenni slowly adjusted herself, sitting up whilst always maintaining eye contact with you, "very bad, obscene, filthy things."

that managed to pull a smirk out of you and your new-found boldness made you place one hand on her neck as you straddled her lap. her hands immediately gripped your hips to hold you in place.

"what about what you want?" she asked, contemplating you.

you leaned in closer, lips almost brushing hers, "i want you–" you closed the gap between you to place a soft, slow kiss on her lips, a sigh of pleasure escaping jenni's mouth, "-to fuck me like i'm one of your –" you whispered against her lips.

"joder." jenni breathed out, smug replaced by a hungry look as she grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in for a needy, hard kiss. you moaned into her mouth, allowing her to slip her tongue into yours. her tongue was soft, yet teasing against your own, pulling the most delightful sounds out of you.

her hands started sliding down to your ass, and while you let her place them there, you pulled away from your kiss. you put one hand on her chest to put some distance between you, "jenni, let me make one thing clear." you said, breathless. she nodded, not letting your lips out of sight and pressing a hard kiss on them before looking at you. "yes, princesa."

"this is a one time thing and a one time thing only."

she chuckled and nodded, trying to follow your lips again but you backed away. "i'm serious, jennifer." your hand on her chest pressing harder to keep her away.

"vale, anything you want, y/n." she looked at you, this time seriously. you could almost describe this moment as kind of sweet, feeling safe in jenni's arms and knowing she wouldn't do anything you wouldn't want to. but you did not want to dive into that side of things, so you gave her a polite thank you and kissed her hard, like you've been deprived of her lips for too long.

she squeezed your ass and slapped one cheek, managing to get a needy whine out of you and turned you both around, laying on top of you.

"let's make this one time count." she winked.

–

"you know, when you said one time, did you mean one round or one night?" jenni asked breathlessly, as you're both laying naked on the bed, resting after your little 'get-together'.

you cannot honestly fathom how you're so comfortable just laying around with jenni after she practically explored every bit of your naked body and you had barely spoken a word to her before this night. she pressed her elbow on the bed and turned to you, tracing the side of your boob carefully, as if she wanted to remember every detail of your body.

your breath hitched and suddenly you were nervous again. you opened and closed your mouth, afraid to say the wrong thing. you wanted more, you craved more but what if jenni didn't like it? what if you were not good enough?

she noticed the sudden tension in your body as she was tracing it with her fingertips and decided to take the lead. "you know, for me, i had hoped you meant the whole night. without any pressure, claro."

you giggled at her directness but your smugness quickly came on, "sure, if you're able to last that long."

she scoffed, "me? i can– mmph" she's cut off by you kissing her. that might distract her from her self cockiness, you wonder in amusement.

–

a week had passed and everything went back to normal. well, not everything. you and aitana were not exactly on good terms, she had tried to call you and text you so you could talk things out but you made it clear to her she needed to figure her stuff out before reaching out to you. you knew you could be friends at the very least, but you needed her to know your boundaries and she needed to make a choice.

as for jenni, you haven't talked since that night. that very long night. you parted ways the next morning and went back to english camp with lucy.

you had just finished a friendly game when you went back to the hotel for some rest.

you were watching tiktok on your phone while laying on your bed when someone knocked on the door of your shared room with alessia. who was not there. you groaned and got up to answer the door, ready to scold alessia for losing her keys. "alessia, i swear, you need to-"

you pause when you open the door and realize it was not alessia on the other side.

instead, you're met with an all too familiar smug grin, "hola, princesa."

–

"what are you doing here, jennifer?!" you send her a glare, keeping the door only open wide enough for you, to let her know she wasn't welcome.

"heyy, calma, i can't travel in my own country? to watch a football game?" she grinned, trying to be funny but it only made you roll your eyes.

"yes, you can. but why are you here in my hotel room?"

"i was hoping you could let me have a place to stay." she let out what you knew was a fake sigh, as if she had no other option.

"i'm sure you can afford any hotel in the area."

"hm. too expensive at this point."

"that must not be a problem to you."

"i'm saving for christmas presents." she smiled playfully, taunting you.

"how thoughtful of you. maybe an airbnb?" you bite back.

"you looked good today." she swiftly changed the subject. "thanks but that's not getting you in my pants." she frowned, concerned with the thought that you assumed she was only complimenting you to get you to have sex with her.

"that's not why i'm here." jenni stated firmly.

"then why?"

"okay, partly that is why i'm here, standing in front of your hotel room but not why i came to sevilla in the first place." she caved but continued, "i came to watch the match and i meant it when i said you looked good – okay, maybe wrong choice of words – you looked good and you played good. that's what i meant." she huffed at the jumble of english words coming out of her in a rush and confusing her along the way.

a giggle escaped your mouth at seeing strong, confident jenni struggle. "thank you for the feedback. anything else i can help you with?" you smirked, entertained by the playfulness between you two.

"okay. here's the drill. i can't stop thinking about that night we had."

you shrugged, trying to not act as surprised as you were, "can't help i'm that good."

jenni chuckled before swatting at your head, "and i seemed to have rubbed off on you, huh?"

you shrugged again, acting nonchalantly.

"in more ways than one." she grinned devilishly which knocked you out of your joking state to roll your eyes.

"jenni. one time thing, remember?"

"so you haven't thought about that night ever since?" she furrowed her eyebrows curiously.

you puffed air out of your nose, frustrated to have been asked that question. of course you have thought about that night. and of course that, ever since then, you had to be partnered with a roommate, cursed to not being able to do anything about it.

still, you didn't want to seem needy, "don't you have a million other girls you can go fuck?"

she nodded, "i do." she lifted a hand to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and leaned in closer, "but i want to fuck you." she whispered, "i want to hear your whimpers and sighs and to feel you tug on my hair to get closer and your scratches down my back." she watched you as your cheeks reddened and looked away from her.

"hey." she grabbed your chin to make you look at her. "this will only happen if you want to." she looked serious. you noticed those moments were rare but you were able to pull them out of her for some reason.

your eyes turned to her lips and you knew your fate by then, "i want to."

her wolfish grin returned and she cocked her head to the side, letting go of your chin, "good." she leaned back, waiting for you to make a move.

you looked around before you shyly mumbled, "i just want to know one thing."

"sí?"

you didn't dare to look at her as you asked, "did you like it when i fucked you?"

she looked taken aback by your question, shocked that you didn't know the answer. "i'm sorry, princesa, was my moaning in pleasure as you ate me out not telling enough?"

you couldn't go redder if you even tried, "jenni!" you scolded.

she chuckled and then smiled at you earnestly, "yes y/n, i loved getting fucked by you. do you want me to beg on my knees?"

"that would be funn–"

"no."

–

"you should probably warn your roomie not to come in, babygirl."

"oh fuck, you remind me now?!" you were in an incredible compromising position, with jenni on top of you, doing ungodly things to you.

you huffed and turned on your stomach to grab your phone from the bedside table and press call to alessia.

that, apparently, didn't stop jenni from touching you though. "jennifer!" you whispered as you waited for alessia to pick up, all the while jenni got back on top of you and placed her hand back between your legs. she chuckled and kissed your shoulder, "just be quiet, princesa."

you groaned, both in frustration and pleasure, but quickly shut your mouth as alessia picked up.

"yes, roomie?"

you inhaled sharply as jenni hit a particular spot and glared at her as she just sent you a smug grin, "can you stay with tooney and millie tonight?"

"why?"

"i'm not–" you exhaled as you tried your best to keep your moans in. "i'm not feeling–" you cleared your throat, "great, and i-" your head fell into the pillow in pleasure as you grinded back into jenni's hand, "i don't want you to catch anything." you exhaled a breath again, hitting jenni with a deathly state but grinding your body back into hers nonetheless.

"oh my god."

"what?"

"you're having sex!" alessia exclaimed.

"she's having what?!" you heard ella in the background.

–

the next morning, a knock on the door wakes you up.

you groan sleepily, you were so peaceful and so warm, wrapped in jenni's arms, that whoever decided to destroy this blissful comfort was about to have it.

you begrudgingly unwrapped jenni's arm from your waist and grabbed a shirt and some shorts before you pushed jenni, "hide!" you whispered. she groaned, turning to the other side, "jenni, get the fuck up!" you whispered-yelled again.

when the girl ignored you once again, you pushed her out the bed with a thud and a "hey!" hitting the ground before she grumpily got up and smacked your ass on her way to hide in the closet.

you tried hastily to comb your hair with your hand before you open the door and your jaw almost drops as you take in who's there.

"hi." aitana said, nervously.

a/n: MESSY MESSY MESSY SORRY

#aitana bonmati #jenni hermoso #jenni hermoso x reader #jenni hermoso imagine #aitana bonmati imagine #aitana bonmati x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine

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