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simp4wom3n · 8 months

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Why Don't I Know You?

Requested: Yes/No ~ How about Regina having a crush on the reader but not saying anything bc she thinks the reader won't like her, but when the reader starts talking to her and everything, Regina is suddenly possessive ykwis

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Summary: Shocked when a face she doesn't recognise shows up in her class, Regina makes it her goal to learn everything about them, even if it leads to her gaining a massive crush. ~ Word Count: 4.1k ~ Warnings: lotta swearing, one slur, otherwise mainly fluff

A/N: HI!!! FIRST RENEE/REGINA FIC!!! she is criminally underwritten, so I thought I would do my part (other people pls do right for her I need stuff to read). I love her so so much, and I had a blast writing this, so pls enjoy <3 + I will be creating a Renee rapp taglist so comment or message me if you wanna be on it :)

The halls of North Shore High were like a second home to Regina. Some would call it her hunting ground. Each year, she relished her opportunity to prowl the hallways, hunting the new freshman as she committed every new face and name to mind, with the intention of digging up all the dirt she possibly could. With thanks to Gretchen, she knew everything about everyone.

But then there was you.

"Alright, we have a new student joining us today."

Regina's eyes widened in pure shock as you walked into the room. With your bag casually slung over your shoulder, you make a beeline for the empty tables surrounding Regina. Ignoring the intensity of her gaze, you drop your bag and settle into the chair next to her. The faint strains of music emanated from the headphones hanging from your ears as you began organizing your belongings, only to be interrupted by the teacher.

"Y/n, if you could please stand and introduce yourself."

Your eyes flicked nervously towards the teacher, and the entire class turned to look at you. The intensity of Regina's gaze made your cheeks glow with a faint red before you sighed dejectedly and reluctantly stood up, pulling out your headphones.

"Um... Hi, I'm Y/n... not really much else to say."

The teacher nodded at you before turning around to start the lesson. Watching as you sat down, Regina's focus shifted entirely to you.

She couldn't tell whether it was because she knew nothing about you, or that you were just so damn hot.

Maybe it was both.

As soon as the bell rang, signalling the end of the class, Regina wasted no time storming off to find Gretchen. Having watched you for the entirety of the class, she was desperate to find out everything about you.

Strutting through the packed hallway, everyone staring at her in fear, Regina locked onto her target as she came into her view. "Gretchen!" she called irritatedly. The small girl quickly turned around as her eyes widened in fear. "Tell me... How is it that I don't know anything about this new Junior, Y/n? Why wasn't I informed? I need all the details now!"

Gretchen, scrambling to keep up with Regina's relentless pace, stammered out an apology. "I-I'm sorry, Regina! I didn't even know they were coming."

"God, you are useless!"

In only a week, not only had watching you become her routine, but she had even started to develop a crush on you, as painful as that was for her to admit.

She was supposed to be chased, not the one chasing.

Seeing you had become the favourite part of her day, even above having the whole school bow at her feet. She hadn't even talked to you. She just watched.

She meticulously studied your every move, subconsciously committing all of your subtle mannerisms to memory. Like the way you would take notes, or the way you would nibble at your fingers when you were focused. Or her personal favourite, when you knawed at the end of your pencil when you were nervous or stressed.

Fuck, she wishes she was that pencil.

She hated to admit it, but the thought of talking to you terrified her. Her usually overbearing confidence drained away whenever you sat in the chair next to her, your mysterious yet comforting presence causing her to malfunction.

And yet, as she sat at lunch with Gretchen and Karen, she refused to mutter a word about you to them. The furthest they pushed was when Gretchen asked about you after catching Regina staring at you, and the look Regina gave the poor girl made her shut up immediately.

The lunch tables were packed as usual, but Regina's eyes scanned the hallway beside them. She was well aware that you never sat at any of the tables, so she patiently waited for you to return to your locker, which was conveniently placed within sight of her table.

Karen and Gretchen's incessant babbling went unnoticed as you finally appeared. She couldn't help but notice your slouched posture and sluggish movements. You looked exhausted. Your headphones, which you always had on you, dangled from one ear as you forcefully opened your locker.

As if she wasn't already concerned, the table of varsity jocks had also noticed you, taking your clearly irritated mood as a green light to push even more of your buttons. From across the room, Regina watched with a clenched jaw as three of them stood from the table and made their way towards you.

Her body ached with anger as she watched them grab you by the shoulder and throw you against the lockers. Your exhausted expression turned to one of fear as they held you up against the cold metal doors. The guy forcefully snatched your headphones away, callously tossing them to the ground and obliterating them with a single forceful step.

Regina choked on a gasp. She knew how much you loved those headphones.

She was annoyingly out of earshot as she watched them continue to laugh at and berate you whilst shaking you against the lockers. Her blood was boiling. The others had noticed her expression and cast confused glances towards the commotion, which only confused them more.

The Regina they knew would be laughing.

After Regina's next victims finally let you go, your body shook as you realised that the whole school had just watched you get shamelessly belittled. As soon as your gaze locked with Regina's, your embarrassment grew unbearable, triggering you to hastily get your belongings before moving to make a swift escape.

The last Regina saw of you, you were frantically running away, desperately trying to hide your state as tears streamed down your face.

Those jocks had no idea what was coming for them.

The next time she laid eyes on you was the week after. She had already exacted her revenge on the jocks, having called their parents and telling them they all had STDs, yet when she caught sight of your weary expression as you entered the classroom, the familiar sense of triumph eluded her.

As the lesson passed and the teacher blabbered about a new group project, Regina's eyes never left you as you buried yourself in your notebook.

"Ok, listening, please." the teacher announced, garnering both of your attention. "The groups are as follows," you patiently waited for your name to be read out so you could go back to absentmindedly doodling in the margins of your book, whilst Regina similarly waited to hear the name of the poor soul who would be stuck with her. Yet, to her surprise, she wasn't disgusted by the name read beside hers.

"Y/n and Regina,"

With eyes wide and fixed on the teacher, Regina failed to notice the sudden blush that crept onto your cheeks, causing you to quickly lower your head. "You have the rest of the lesson to plan." the teacher mumbled before returning to their desk, where they sat silently.

Neither of you moved. After a second of secretly hoping Regina would make her move, you figured she wasn't interested in you or the project. Opening your computer and immediately diving into research, Regina sat at her desk, trying to build the courage to talk to you.

God, she hated being a coward.

After a few minutes and a few internal pep talks, she decided to take her one excuse to talk to you as she finally scooted her desk towards yours and turned to face you. As she inched closer, your heart began to race, sensing her gaze fixed on you. With a bashful smile, you diverted your attention from your screen and finally made eye contact with her.

She was breathtaking.

Clearing your throat, you quickly turned back to your computer as you scratched the back of your neck. "I-I'll just do it all when I get home," you spoke nervously, presuming THE Regina George would want nothing to do with you or the project.

"What makes you think I'd make you do it alone," she retorts, her tone more flirtatious than she had intended, but she wasn't mad about it. You looked back at her, lost for words for a second as you tried to scramble together a response.

"Well... I-I just presumed you wouldn't want to help." A small smile formed on her lips as you briefly glanced at her, "I mean, you hardly pay attention, so I just... figured." She softly giggles at your words, her laughter sending a flutter of excitement through your body.

Little did you know she was distracted by you.

"Come to mine later. We can do it together." Regina's unexpected display of confidence caught both of you off guard as her usual flirtatious demeanour made a comeback. Meanwhile, you stared at her in disbelief, trying to process what had just happened. "Ugh... Yeah, sure, if that's ok?"

"I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't"

As the school bell rang through the corridors, you were overwhelmed with both relief and anxiety. After enduring a tedious day at school, you were now faced with the terrifying task of not only talking to Regina but also spending hours alone with her at her house.

Walking out the doors and towards the car park, the sound of the bustling school fading into the background, your eyes catch a familiar blonde leaning up against her Jeep. Your heart began to race faster as you approached her, your bag feeling heavier with each step.

Her expression softened as she noticed you approaching, a warm smile gracing her lips, and she pushed herself off her car. "Hey," she greets softly, a soft shade of pink painting her cheeks as you both smile at each other. "Hi," you said breathlessly with a small chuckle.

Without another word, Regina moves to get in, and you follow suit, chucking your bag into the backseat next to hers before climbing into the passenger seat.

The breeze gently tousled your hair as you drove to her house, the soothing tunes of music filling the air, matching the nervous excitement between you both. Your heart beat along with the music as you snuck glances at the girl sitting next to you. With her eyes focused on the road and the wind softly brushing her skin, you were utterly mesmerised by her.

Of course, you had heard of Regina George's horror stories, but this girl was different.

Sure, you hadn't spoken till this morning, but there was something about her you couldn't quite describe. Something that brought you to school every day, comforting you as you sat in undoubtedly one of the most boring classes, and that gave life at North Shore High purpose.

Frankly, you rejected any idea of her being a heartless bitch.

When you eventually turned into her driveway, your gaze was forced away from her as you caught sight of her house, or should you say mansion. The house was almost cinematic in grandeur, your eyes growing wider by the second as you drove closer before eventually stopping at the door.

"Wow," you mumbled under your breath as you exited her car, your eyes not leaving the building as you reached for your bag. You heard Regina chuckle lightly as she led the way to her door. "My mum's not home, thank god, so we have the place to ourselves."

You nod mindlessly as you follow her through the front door. As you trailed behind her, the pristine marble floors beneath your feet echoed with each step, a stark contrast to the scuffed linoleum of the school corridors.

Just when you thought you had gotten used to it, Regina led you to her room. Stepping inside, you find yourself mesmerised by everything around you. "This is your bedroom?" you asked, clearly taken aback. Regina glanced back at you, a shy smile on her face.

"Yeah, It was my parents, but I asked them to trade me." "Right...". You couldn't help but be captivated by the array of decorations adorning the walls, taking in the posters and photos that offered a rare glimpse into her life beyond her reign as the queen of North Shore.

Sitting on her bed and removing her shoes, she motions for you to do the same. Dropping your bag next to her massive bed and grabbing everything you need, you carefully sit down next to her, leaving enough room between the two of you so you don't seem invasive.

Opening your laptop and notebook, you place them on the bed as you pull up the project materials. You can feel Regina's gaze on you even though she's trying to be subtle, and the thought instantly makes your cheeks glow softly.

"So, uh, where do you want to start?"

The next few hours flew by as you worked on the project together. Regina was surprisingly helpful, the two of you moving closer as your work drew to a close. Now that the project was over, the familiar awkwardness lingered in the air as you searched for something to talk about that wouldn't embarrass you.

"You're really good at drawing, you know." Regina compliments softly, pointing at your notebook margins before you can say anything as you blush at her words. "Thanks... I've been doing it more since-" "Your headphones broke." Regina cuts you off as you look at her surprised.

"Yeah... How did you know that?" It was Regina's turn to blush as she realised that she had just revealed herself. Stammering to find an excuse, she looks away for a second, embarrassed. "I-I'm just a very observant person."

You look at her suspiciously with a small smile gracing your lips, the thought of Regina watching you making your heart flutter.

"You're different." you find yourself blurting out, "from how everyone else describes you, I mean." you finish quickly. Regina chuckles as she smiles at you softly. "You're different too. Good different. I like it."

The tension between you grew as you stared into each other's eyes. A softness behind her pale blue eyes drew you in, and before you knew it, you were slowly leaning in. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you caught Regina glancing down at your lips, her own caught between her teeth as your faces grew closer.

"Regina, honey!" You scramble backwards as Regina's bedroom door flies open, revealing who you believe to be her mum. "Oh. Hi there!" "Mum, seriously!?" Regina yells in disbelief. Your ears begin to ring as your head pounds, thinking about what would have happened if you had not been interrupted.

"I'm sorry, honey, I didn't realise you had anyone over." While Regina's mother was apologising, you could hear Regina sighing in frustration next to you. "I'll just go to the kitchen." Her mum suggests as she begins to leave the room, but you beat her to it. "No, Ms George, it's okay. I was on my way out anyway." You offer her a smile you hope appears as genuine as you quickly throw everything into your bag.

Trying to ignore Regina's pained gaze, you threw your bag over your shoulder, grabbed your shoes, and quickly exited her bedroom, making your way out the front door. You had no plan on how to get home, but you would rather walk than have to sit in that room after what had happened.

Walking into school the next day was like walking straight into a nightmare. You already weren't fond of the school, having been called slurs and made fun of constantly, but adding to that, your usual excitement of seeing Regina had been replaced with pure fear.

In just one night, you managed to spin every interaction you ever had with the girl, leaving you incredibly embarrassed about how you had let it all happen. Who were you to think Regina might actually like you? You were probably just a pawn in some big game.

Unlocking your locker and throwing it open, already fed up with the day before it had even begun, you began to unpack your stuff, completely ignorant of the approaching jock.

Walking into school with a similarly distraught look, Regina's mind was stuck reeling over the events from last night. The question of why you ran away was all she could think about until she heard a sharp bang.

Before you could react, you were once again thrown against the lockers, an irritated grunt leaving your lips. Your eyes met the same bastard who had made bullying you their new hobby. "Back for more, dyke?" he taunted you, your fists clenching involuntarily as you awaited the verbal abuse he was undoubtedly about to unleash on you.

Regina's head immediately whipped in its direction, a new sense of anger rushing through her body as she saw your saddened figure being pinned up against the lockers. Without hesitation, she storms towards the jock holding you against the wall with a fire burning behind her eyes.

"Fuck off, asshole!"

The boy's expression quickly shifted, causing him to release his grip on you and hastily retreat in terror. You sighed in relief as you observed Regina approaching you, her face contorted with unmistakable rage.

You found it quite amusing how scary everyone found her, causing the boy who had just been full of confidence to shrink into insignificance, like a tiny ant that she was about to step on.

"Look in her direction again, and it won't just be STDs next time."

The boy's face flashed in realisation before hurriedly scrambling off. All eyes were fixed on you as Regina directed her gaze towards you, her expression instantly softening with a hint of concern in her eyes. "Are you ok?" you managed a nod as the softness of her voice filled you with a comforting warmth.

"Yeah… Thanks," you replied softly, your familiar awkward energy filling the air. She watched you momentarily as you remained silent, hopeful that you would acknowledge her. Yet, as you continued to avert your gaze away from her, she gave you a soft nod before turning to leave. Her stomach sank as the failing state of your relationship grew more and more obvious.

With an unfamiliar burn of tears behind her eyes, her pace quickened as she tried to get as far away from you as she possibly could.

But you stopped her.

"Regina, wait!"

Looking over her shoulder and meeting your sorry gaze, her heart can't help but flutter as she watches you slowly jog after her. "Sorry, I-" you hesitated, feeling a surge of nerves as you came the closest you had been to Regina since yesterday. "Did you want to maybe... hang out at yours after school again?"

"Didn't we finish the project?" She seems confused, completely missing that you wanted to spend time together outside what was needed. "No, we did. I just thought we could, you know, just watch a movie or something, but if you're not into that-"

"I would love to." She interrupts your anxious babbling with a gentle laugh, her gaze filled with admiration as you stare at her in a state of surprise and joy. "Meet me at the same place, ok?" "Yeah". Regina walks away from you with a smirk as you stand there frozen.

Holy shit, you just asked Regina George out.

The trip to Regina's after the bell finally rang was much like the day before.

She waited for you by her car, dismissing her other friends when she spotted you. Greeting each other warmly before jumping in the car, you once again listened to music whilst the wind swept through your hair, a nervous yet warm sense of anticipation falling between you.

Pulling up to her house, which you were still in awe of, you jumped out of the car and walked towards the front door behind Regina. "This time, my mum actually isn't home and won't be. I made sure of it. So we really do have the place all to ourselves."

You both laughed at her words as a small blush crept onto your cheeks. You walked behind Regina as she entered her bedroom, studying the now familiar walls as she set up everything you needed to watch a movie.

After sitting on her bed with the TV switched on and Netflix loaded up, you still remained standing in her doorway, nibbling on your pencil, which you always kept stowed away in your pocket, causing her to glance at you with a puzzled expression. "You seem distracted. Everything okay?" she asked, her voice soft yet discerning.

Snapping back into reality, offering her a sheepish smile, you replied, "Yeah, just lost in thought, I guess." taking the pencil from your lips, you slowly moved towards her bed, your eyes subconsciously scanning every inch of her body, your mind going wild seeing her so comfortable.

Her gaze fixated on you, her piercing blue eyes captivating in the sunlight pouring through the window. She laughed softly, the sound filling the room with a pleasant melody. "Lost in thought or thoughts of me?"

The comment caught you off guard, and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I… um, what makes you say that?". Regina, who reclined into her bed, gestured towards your hand, occupied by a chewed-up pencil.

"You always chew on that when you're nervous," she spoke softly. Your eyes widened in astonishment as the familiar burn returned to your cheeks. "How do you know that?" She smirked, "I notice everything." Regina's gaze never wavered as she continued watching you, a playful glint in her eyes.

"So, what's got you so nervous, Y/n?"

You felt a lump form in your throat as Regina's question hung in the air, filling the lavish room with tension. You couldn't help but fidget with your pencil, trying to find the right words to capture the overwhelming mix of emotions that Regina's presence constantly stirred within you.

"I, uh… it's just… everything, I guess. School, people, this…" You gestured vaguely between the two of you, unable to articulate the chaotic mess of feelings inside. Regina leaned up, her voice softening. "Well, you don't have to be nervous around me." Her eyes locked onto yours, a sincerity beneath the confident facade. "Now sit."

Slipping your shoes off and sitting on the bed, you move closer to Regina, who is lying against her pillows, her gaze unwavering. Eventually settling next to her, you turn to look at her, your heart fluttering as her soft eyes meet yours.

The room seemed to buzz with an unspoken energy, and all you could hear was the sound of your shared breaths. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, watching Regina's eyes analyse your face. A blush painted her cheeks, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Regina seemed hesitant, her mouth opening as if searching for the right words. "You know, I've been infatuated with you ever since you first walked into class." Your heart did a somersault at her words. A dreamy smile spread across your face, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of joy and disbelief.

"Regina George. Infatuated with me?" you teased playfully, her confession coursing adrenaline through your veins. With a gentle laugh, she hides her face briefly behind her hand before looking back at you, matching your wide smile.

"Shut up."

Leaning towards you, Regina's hands delicately wrapped around your neck, a slight shiver travelling down your spine. The room appeared to tighten as Regina held you, her touch confident and gentle. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes never leaving Regina's as she closed the distance.

Time seemed to stand still as her lips met yours.

The touch of her lips against yours was gentle, her hands brushing your neck with a mix of desire and passion. Everything else faded away as you fell into the kiss.

Her breath mingled with yours, and you could feel the rapid beat of her heart echoing your own. The room seemed to buzz with an electrifying charge, and the only sounds that reached your ears were the shared breaths between you two.

As Regina pulled away, a shared moment of breathless silence hung in the air. Once buzzing with unspoken energy, the room was now filled with the soft sounds of your intertwined breaths. Regina's cheeks were tinted with a deeper blush, and a subtle smirk played on her lips.

Your mind still reeling from the feeling of her lips on hers, you speak with a breathless chuckle, "What's everyone else gonna think?". Regina smirked at your question, a glint of defiance in her eyes as she pulled you back in, mumbling her response on your lips.

"Let them talk."

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yannawayne · 2 months

Text

iv. what's up danger?

SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." PAIRING: Older! Damian Wayne/Fem! Reader TAGS: Established Relationship, Wounds, Violence, Surgical procedures, Panic Attacks, Arguments AO3: yenwayne SERIES LINK: gotham's only spidey

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The room falls into a stunned silence, every gaze drawn to your disheveled, bloodied appearance.

You attempt a casual wave, but it comes off as weak and awkward. Blood drips from your bruised knuckles, each drop splattering with a muted plop onto the polished floor. “Hey, everyone. Sorry, I’m late.”

Jason’s eyes flare with a dangerous glint of green as he barks, “What the fuck happened, kid?”

A typical dinner at the Waynes.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Wednesday, 6:54 PM - Catwoman’s Apartment, Gotham City.

Three Days Later

THE ROOM IS QUIET except for the occasional rustle of clothing as you pack your things. You carefully fold your favorite hoodie, tucking it neatly into the suitcase. Next, you grab a few pairs of jeans, some t-shirts, and your worn-out sneakers.

You pause, your fingers lingering on a framed photo resting on the edge of the dresser. It's a snapshot of you and Damian at a carnival, his arm slung over your shoulder, his lips gently pressed against your head.

It’s been three days of radio silence between you and Damian. Three days of not speaking, which is practically a record for your relationship. And just when you were starting to get used to the peace and quiet, Bruce had to go and invite you and Selina to a celebratory dinner tonight. A gourmet guilt trip.

With a sigh, you place the photo gently on top of your clothes. Then you move to your desk, gathering a stack of notebooks crammed with sketches and half-finished plans scribbled on napkins and crumpled scraps of paper. You tuck them into the side pocket of your bag, carefully arranging the chaotic collection so that it all fits.

The door creaks open, and Selina steps into the room, her arms crossed with a proud smile playing on her lips.

“Packing up for your big adventure?” she asks.

You look up from your suitcase, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. It’s only for a month, but it feels like I’m leaving for a year.”

“A month isn’t so long.” Selina walks over, her feet thudding softly on the floor. She picks up a small figurine from your desk, examining it with a thoughtful expression. “Think of it as a chance to stretch your wings and maybe learn a thing or two.”

“Thanks.” You smile and turn back to your packing, reaching for your suit. The sleek, black material glistens under the soft light filtering through the window. You run your fingers over the spider emblem stitched into the back, feeling the familiar texture beneath your fingertips.

“You’re not seriously thinking of bringing the suit, are you?” she asks.

You hesitate, feeling the weight of the suit in your hands. “I thought I might need it. Just in case.”

“Well, you’re not planning on fighting crime in Stark Tower, are you?” she snarks, hands finding her hips as she gives you a look that clearly says she’s not buying your excuse. “This internship is a chance for you to have a life outside the vigilante shtick. It’s good for your future. A chance to live a normal life.”

“Normal? Mom, I stopped being normal the day I got these powers. There's no going back to that.”

“Maybe not,” Selina concedes, running gentle fingers through your hair. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have something close to it. You deserve to have options, to see what else is out there for you.”

You meet her gaze, your resolve unwavering. “I hear you. But I think I need to bring it. Just in case something goes wrong.”

Selina sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly. “God. You are just as stubborn as me,” she says, rising to her feet with a resigned smile. “Just promise me you’ll keep an open mind about this internship. Give it a real shot, okay?”

“Promise,” you hum, feeling a small sense of relief. As you reach for the suit to tuck it into your bag, your phone buzzes insistently.

Quickly, you glance at the screen.

Morgana:

Busy tonight? There’s a shipment near the docks. Tech equipment from what I see.

You could infiltrate. They have valuable info.

It's… Black Mask.

For a while, you stare at the phone, your thumb hovering over the screen, itching to swipe through the new messages. But Selina is still standing nearby. With a soft cough and a resigned exhale, you place the phone face down on the floor, deliberately ignoring the message for now.

You turn your attention back to your suitcase, refocusing on the task at hand. Selina watches you with a knowing look but doesn’t press further. The silence in the room is filled with the subtle rustle of fabric and the soft clink of zippers as you continue packing.

“Ready for tonight?” Selina asks.

You nod, though a knot tightens in your stomach. Bruce’s congratulatory dinner feels less like a celebration and more like an impending test, especially with the unresolved tension between you and Damian hanging heavy.

“Ready as I'll ever be,” you reply, attempting to sound confident.

You zip up the suitcase, taking a moment to glance around the room. Everything seems to be in place, but you double-check, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything essential.

Selina nods approvingly, then steps closer, bending to pull you into a hug. “I’ll go get dressed. You do too, alright?”

Selina leaves the room, her footsteps fading into the distance. Turning back to your suitcase, you rummage through the clothes, pulling out a pair of well-worn jeans and a red jacket. After slipping on some socks and sneakers, you reach for a black shirt. But as your hand hovers over the fabric, your gaze is drawn to your suit laid out on the bed.

The spider logo on its back glares at you, its eight-legged emblem almost seeming to reach out with an imperceptible pull, as if urging you to embrace your other self.

After a moment of inner conflict, you give in. You carefully pull on the suit beneath your clothes, the snug material wrapping around you like a second skin. With the suit in place, you slip on your black shirt, followed by the jacket and jeans. You tuck your mask into the pocket of your jacket.

Wearing a superhero suit under your clothes for a fancy dinner—definitely not a sign of insanity. Totally normal behavior. Call it creative paranoia.

With everything packed and ready, you head downstairs. Selina is still in her room, and you catch sight of her as she steps into view, looking a touch more formal than you in a sleek, off-shoulder black dress that hugs her curves. It’s short, tight, and elegant.

“Done already?” she hums, moving to her vanity and starting on her hair and makeup.

You nod, leaning against the doorframe and giving your hair a casual tousle. “Yeah, figured I’d keep it simple. Not sure I’m in the mood for fancy.”

Selina glances at you through the mirror, a small, reassuring smile curling her lips. “You look great. And don’t worry too much about tonight. It’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” you murmur, more to yourself than to her.

The clock on the wall reads 7:00. You have three hours before the dinner, and Selina, always the early planner, will be occupied with her preparations for a while.

Pulling out your phone, you check Morgan’s message again. If you played your cards right, you could handle the shipment bust quickly and still make it to the dinner on time.

Clearing your throat, you push yourself off the doorframe and tug your hood back on. You head downstairs, making sure to keep your movements casual and unhurried, as if nothing out of the ordinary is about to happen.

“I’ll be heading out for a bit. I want to get some flowers for Alfred,” you call out, your voice carrying through the house.

Selina glances up from her vanity, an eyebrow arching in curiosity. “Alright, but don’t be too long. We need to leave once the driver arrives.”

“Got it,” you reply with a quick nod, turning and heading out of the room. You make your way downstairs, slipping out the front door and into the crisp evening air.

Once you’re in the privacy of a nearby alleyway, you waste no time. Tugging off your shirt, you shove it into the pocket of your jacket, feeling a rush of adrenaline. You slip on your mask, adjusting it carefully until it fits snugly, the familiar material settling comfortably against your skin. Your jeans, jacket, and sneakers stay on for practicality, and you plan to put the black shirt back on later.

With everything in place, you secure your earpiece and gadgets, pressing the earpiece into position and activating it. The familiar hum of your tech springs to life, and you’re ready to move.

The city’s sounds fade as you slip into the shadows.

“Morgz? You there?” you call out, already scaling up the side of a building.

A crackle of static precedes Morgan’s voice. “Yeah, I’m here. You on your way?”

“Just about to leave,” you reply, grabbing onto a ledge and pulling yourself up. “Any updates on the shipment?”

“It’s scheduled to arrive in about 30 minutes. The tech equipment is being unloaded from a truck into a warehouse. Security’s decent, but nothing you can’t handle. You’re only 15 minutes away from your spot right now.”

“Got it,” you confirm, reaching the rooftop and taking a moment to scan the area below. “I’ll keep you posted. Thanks for the heads-up.”

You launch into action, web-slinging towards the docks with a focus on speed. Normally, you’d be showboating and performing flips, but tonight, every second counts. The journey takes a bit longer than expected—20 minutes instead of 15.

As you approach the docks, you spot a boat pulling up to the edge, its silhouette cutting through the darkness.

“Surprised you even took this up,” Morgan’s voice murmurs through your earpiece. “Thought you weren't allowed to patrol on school nights.”

“Technically… I’m not,” you reply, weaving between buildings and adjusting your trajectory for a swift descent.

“Yeesh. Going rebellious already?”

“Teenage angst, remember?” you quip, a grin forming beneath your mask as you prepare to intercept the shipment

Landing on a rooftop adjacent to the warehouse, you take a moment to plan your entry. The warehouse is a large, industrial building with a few tall windows and a side door that looks like it’s used for deliveries.

Security cameras are mounted on the corners of the building, rotating every now and then. You quickly survey the area, noting the guards' position.

There are a couple of guards patrolling the perimeter, walking in predictable patterns. One guard is stationed near the side door, checking his watch occasionally. The other two are more mobile, taking turns walking around the exterior and scanning the area.

Beyond the security, you see five workers moving boxes from the boat to the warehouse. The open doors at the far end reveal crates of tech equipment being unloaded.

You activate your earpiece. "Update. Three guards outside. Five active workers. They've got cameras. Can you get those down for me?"

Morgan's voice crackles through your earpiece. "On it. Give me a sec."

You watch the cameras, waiting for them to go offline. The guard near the side door looks at his watch again, oblivious to what's about to happen.

After a tense moment, Morgan's voice comes back. "Cameras are down. You've got about an hour before the system kicks in again. Oh. That and there are about 5 more guards inside."

"Perfect," you hum.

You time your movements with the guards' patrols, slipping through the shadows. You approach the side door, keeping low and quiet.

Inside, the warehouse is dimly lit, with stacks of crates creating narrow pathways. The workers are busy unloading the truck, their focus on the task at hand. You crawl up the walls swiftly and silently.

You spot a terminal near the back of the warehouse, its blinking lights indicating it’s connected to the inventory system.

Time to get to work.

“I'm at the terminal. What’s next?” you whisper into the earpiece.

Morgan’s voice comes through with a steady tone. “Plug in the flash drive to copy the inventory data. While that’s running, find the main control panel for the security system and plant the tracker. This will help us monitor future shipments.”

You nod, even though she can't see you. "Got it. Flash drive first, then tracker."

You slip to the terminal and plug in the flash drive, which hums softly as it starts copying data. Glancing around to make sure no one is watching, you head to the security control panel hidden behind some crates and quickly plant the tracker.

"The tracker is set," you inform Morgan.

"Great job. The data copy should be done soon. Once it’s finished, you can pull the flash drive and get out of there."

You head back to the terminal, keeping an eye on the workers and guards. The flash drive's light blinks, signaling it's almost finished. After a few tense moments, the light turns solid.

"Data copied," Morgan confirms. "You’re clear to go."

You pull out the flash drive, tuck it into your pocket, and start heading toward the exit, blending into the shadows. Just as you reach the door, you hear voices nearby.

“Hey, did you hear something?”

Your heart stops as the guard’s flashlight beam sweeps dangerously close to your hiding spot. You freeze, pressing yourself against the cold metal wall, barely breathing.

“Probably just a rat. Let's check it out just in case.”

You curse silently under your breath, watching as the guards start moving in your direction.

The first guard steps closer, his flashlight scanning the area. You silently crawl up the wall, positioning yourself above him. With a swift flick of your wrist, you shoot a web at the flashlight, yanking it out of his hand and into the darkness.

“What the—” the guard starts, but you quickly web his mouth shut and pull him up towards the ceiling, wrapping him tightly in webbing and securing him to the roof. You knock his head against the metal, and he passes out.

The second guard, alarmed by the sudden commotion, turns his back to you as he draws his weapon. The rifle fires, but your spider sense helps you dodge the shots.

Cursing, you shoot a web at his feet, yanking his legs out from under him and sending him crashing to the ground. Before he can react, you web his hands to the floor and sling his weapon away.

Dropping from the ceiling, you slow your landing with a web and slam your foot down onto his head, knocking him out.

Despite the quiet disposal of the two guards, the earlier rifle shot already alerted the other workers and guards in the warehouse. You hear shouts and hurried footsteps approaching.

“Someone’s here! Find them!”

Guards scramble, their flashlights slicing through the darkness, casting erratic beams that dance across the warehouse walls. You sprint away, weaving between crates and machinery, but a new threat emerges from the shadows—a massive, burly man, easily twice your size. He’s built like a brick wall, his muscles straining against his uniform, and his face looks like it’s been chiseled out of stone, etched with a permanent scowl.

“Who’s messing around in 'ere?” the giant roars, his voice reverberating through the cavernous space. He brandishes a rifle, and from the looks of it, he seems to be their leader.

You glance at your watch—damn, it’s been two hours already.

Only an hour left.

Still… you could probably get one fight in before leaving.

…

Swinging out of the shadows, you land in front of the giant, hands on your hips.

“Hi, Mr. Villain!” you call out, catching a punch he throws and giving his hand a playful shake. “I’m Spidey, your friendly neighborhood nuisance. Always nice to meet someone with such a ‘heavy’ presence. Looks like you’ve got a bit of a security problem here—totally my bad.”

The giant snarls at you. He fires his rifle, but you deftly dodge the bullets. With a swift move, you fire a web at his feet and arms, pinning him momentarily to the ground. The rifle is knocked from his hands, clattering out of reach.

The guards scramble to regroup, and you spring into action. Flipping back into the air, you disarm the remaining guards—quick web blasts here, a roundhouse kick there, an uppercut thrown. Each guard crumples under the assault, slamming against the walls one by one, webbed together in a tangled heap.

There’s a snap as the leader breaks free, roaring in fury and charging at you. You duck under his swinging arm and fire a web at a stack of crates. The crates topple and crash into his path, heavy wood and metal smashing together. He stumbles, cursing and flailing wildly.

“Careful there! You might just crush your own merchandise,” you taunt, sidestepping his erratic swings.

In that moment of distraction, you snatch his gun away with a quick webshot. But as you turn to face him again, a jolt of pure adrenaline slams through your veins, sharp and unrelenting, like an electric shock.

The world sharpens into hyperfocus.

DANGER!

Your instincts scream at you to move. You leap to the side, but it’s already too late. A shadowy figure springs from the darkness, their knife catching a deadly glint in the harsh warehouse lights.

The blade slices through your suit, leaving a searing, agonizing wound. You stagger, clutching your side as blood seeps through the torn fabric and pools on the cold concrete. With a pained grimace, you muster the strength to shoot a web at the attacker, slamming them against the wall with a forceful swing.

“Spidey?! Come in. Shit. What happened to staying stealthy?” Morgan's voice crackles through the earpiece. “PEPPER, run back their vitals on me.”

A mechanical voice responds through your earpiece. “Vitals are stable. The wound is a deep six-inch laceration on the left side, with moderate blood loss, but the suit's padding has helped. The injury missed major organs and arteries. Immediate first aid and stitches are recommended.”

“Looks like I’ve got a new scar to show for tonight,” you heave, trying to ignore the throbbing pain as the giant stalks toward you. “But I’m not done yet.”

The man's roar shakes the warehouse.

“You think you can take me, you puny spider?!”

You lift your chin, tilting your head with a smirk. “Puny? That’s funny. I’ve taken down bigger.”

The giant lunges, brandishing a scrap of metal like a battering ram. You barely dodge, feeling the whoosh of air as it swings past. You retaliate with a web shot to his face, but he roars and swats it away, his massive arms tearing through your webbing.

“Careful there, big guy,” you quip, “I’m not into heavy metal, but thanks for the offer!”

His hand clamps onto your chest, lifting you off your feet with an alarming strength. He hurls you against a stack of crates, the impact slamming you into the wall. You slide down to the floor, dazed and with blood trickling from a split lip.

While you're down, the giant strides toward you, his heavy footsteps shaking the ground like a mini earthquake. You struggle to rise, just as he launches a flying knee. Your senses scream, a blaring alarm urging you to move.

!!!

With a yelp, you roll to the side, narrowly avoiding the crushing blow that hits where you had been seconds before.

“Hey, watch it! I’ve got places to be after this!” you yell.

Before you can react, a powerful punch slams into your face, sending you spiraling backward.

“Owie. That one’s definitely gonna leave a mark,” you groan, pain radiating through your skull. Desperately, you shoot a web at his legs, hoping to slow him down. The webbing holds for a moment before he rips through it with sheer brute force.

Groaning, you shake off the dizziness, rolling your shoulders to loosen them before pushing yourself back to your feet.

“Alright,” you mutter, taking a deep breath. “Clearly, the webs aren’t working. Guess we’re sticking to fists. Put ’em up, big guy.”

Laughing with a guttural, mocking tone, the giant charges at you. As he lunges, you brace yourself and bring your fist up to guard your face. With a burst of power, you jab forward. Your knuckles connect with his face with a sickening crunch, the sound of bone shattering and flesh splitting echoing through the warehouse like a thunderclap.

JAB!

The man staggers back, his head snapping violently to the side, blood spraying from his jaw. Before he can recover, you launch into a spinning kick. Your leg connects with explosive force, slamming him into the wall with a resounding thud.

You follow up with a powerful jump, driving a kick into his ribs. The impact echoes with a sickening crack. He roars in pain and collapses, slumped against the wall.

With quick reflexes, you shoot a web at a high pipe, coiling it tightly. You yank the pipe down with all your strength. It crashes onto the giant with a resounding clang, the impact knocking him out cold.

You take a couple of deep breaths, blood and sweat mingling on your clothes and face as you survey the wreckage. The giant groans weakly—alive, but definitely out of commission for the moment.

“Looks like the big guy’s all out of steam,” you murmur, wiping the blood from your brow with a grim smile. “Now, time to find that exit before my own steam runs out.”

With a final glance at the chaos you've left behind, you swing toward the exit. The cut on your side throbs with each movement—though it's slowly healing, the pain and blood are still very much present.

"Spidey? You alright? What the fuck, you just beat that guy within an inch of his life."

“He’ll live,” you huff as you swing through the streets. After fumbling around for a while, you pull your phone from your jacket and curse at the time.

Only ten minutes before the car arrives.

“Uh, Morgz, do me a favor. Where’s the nearest flower shop?”

"Christ. You just busted down an illegal tech deal and now you're out for flowers?" Morgan’s response comes through the earpiece before you hear some typing. “There’s a florist two blocks from your current location. I’m sending you the address. But—You really need to take care of that wound.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you reply. There's a ping as the location pops up on your phone. “Just need to pick up some flowers. Trust me, it’s important.”

You adjust your swing to head toward the florist, landing quietly in the alley outside. With quick movements, you slip off your mask and start changing. You discard your jacket, revealing the bloodied suit underneath. The suit’s dark color masks most of the stains, but it's still a grim sight.

Pulling on your shirt over the suit, you try to conceal the worst of the mess. The sticky, wet feeling of blood against your skin is unpleasant, and you grimace as you adjust the shirt. Finally, you slip the jacket back on, hoping it will help you blend in and give you a semblance of normalcy.

Taking a deep breath, you straighten up and glance at your reflection in the nearby puddle. The image staring back at you is a disheveled mess: hair tousled, face bruised and bloodied, jeans stained with grime and blood, and a jacket barely concealing it all.

“Not my best look,” you bite your lip. “But it’ll have to do.”

With a sigh, you step into the flower shop. The bell above the door jingles softly, and the warm, floral scent is a welcome relief from the warehouse’s stench.

The florist looks up from behind the counter with a curious glance. His eyes narrow slightly as he takes in your disheveled appearance but he doesn’t seem particularly fazed.

In Gotham, a bloodied teenager is probably just another Wednesday.

“Evening,” the florist says, his voice carrying the neutrality of someone accustomed to the oddities of city life. “What can I do for you?”

You give a quick nod, trying to keep your tone casual despite the blood still seeping through your shirt. “Need something nice. Simple. No need for anything flashy.”

The florist nods and starts arranging a bouquet of flowers. You drift over to a corner and find yourself looking at some daisies, their bright, cheerful colors a stark contrast to your current state.

“Spidey? How’s it going?”

“Alright,” you shrug, though she can’t see it. “Can I get a rundown on my vitals again?”

Morgan’s voice hums and there’s the sound of clicking keys. “Vitals are stable. The cut is slowly healing, but you’ll need to properly bandage and get some of that stitched later Happy to say you're not going to die bleeding out.”

She pauses, and then adds, “You’ve got a couple of broken ribs though.”

You blink in surprise and pat at your sides, feeling nothing. “Really? Guess that’s my pain tolerance working overtime. Didn’t even notice.”

“Please tell me you’re getting that treated first,” Morgan says, a hint of concern in her voice.

“Nope,” you reply, moving to pay for the flowers. “Already running late. Mom will kill me if she finds out.”

Morgan’s voice is laced with skepticism. “She’s going to find out anyway.”

You sigh, trying to ignore the twinge in your side. “I’ll just say it was a mugging.”

“Do you really think she’ll believe that?” Morgan asks, her tone dry.

You let out a small, pained chuckle. “In Gotham, maybe. But realistically…no. I’m just hoping to buy myself a little time before it all catches up to me.”

With the bouquet in hand, you head back out into the night. You tuck the flowers into your free pocket and swing off into the darkness. As you soar through the city, you reach for your earpiece and say a quick, “Goodnight, Morgz,” before shoving it into the pocket of your jeans.

Just as you near the bridge, your phone rings. You glance at the screen and curse under your breath—Selina’s calling, and from the look of it, she’s been trying to reach you multiple times over the past hour.

Yeah, you’re fucked.

You answer the call, forcing a casual tone. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”

Selina’s voice comes through, clearly agitated. You can hear her huffing as she closes the apartment door, the background noise of a car engine rumbling outside. “Where the hell are you? I’ve been waiting forever. We’re all set to head out.”

You quickly scan the streets below as you swing past, trying to gauge your location. “Uh, I’m on 2nd Broadway… actually, make that 3rd Broadway. And… 4th of Broadway! I’ll be there in… twenty minutes tops. Almost there, Mom!”

There’s a pause.

“... Are you swinging?”

“Nope,” you lie smoothly, narrowly dodging a pigeon that flaps angrily past your face. “Just a bit of a detour. You know how it is.”

“Honey. I can hear the wind. Are you really swinging around? It’s a school night. You know the rules—”

You wince, knowing you’ve been caught. “Just… had a few things to take care of. I’m on my way. Promise. Actually, why don’t I meet you at Wayne Manor instead? I’m near the bridge. Ya know, the one by the docks.”

There’s another pause on her end.

“Why are you near the docks?!”

You avoid the question, trying to keep the conversation moving. “Long story. Look, I’m running late. Can we just meet at Wayne Manor? I’ll explain everything after dinner.”

Selina’s frustration doesn’t ease, but she sighs. “Fine. Wayne Manor it is. But don’t think for a second you’re off the hook, young lady.”

You nod, even though she can’t see it. “Understood. See you soon. Love you, Mom!”

༻⊰───⋅

BEEP.

Selina scowls as she ends the call and heads down to meet Alfred. The gritty streets of Gotham greet her, the cacophony of sirens and street chatter providing a harsh backdrop to her mood.

Alfred, noticing her irritated state, opens the door for her with a raised eyebrow. "Good to see you Miss Kyle. May I ask where the young miss is?"

Selina forces a smile, trying to mask her frustration. “She’s… handling something that came up last minute. She’ll meet us at the manor.”

"Very well. I trust she’ll be punctual." Alfred says, a hint of concern in his eyes, but he says nothing more. He closes the door behind her as she slips into the car, adjusting her coat and glancing at her reflection in the rearview mirror.

The engine starts, the low hum blending with the city’s background noise. As the vehicle pulls away, Selina leans back against the cool leather seat, her fingers drumming lightly on the armrest, her mind already racing through the conversation she knows is coming.

You were dead meat.

༻⊰───⋅

After nearly an hour of high-speed swings through Gotham, you finally touch down in a secluded area near Wayne Manor. You're breathless and disheveled, your earlier efforts to look presentable having fallen short. You quickly scan the area, making sure the security cameras don’t catch your arrival.

Taking a moment to compose yourself, you adjust your clothes and press the doorbell. The chime rings through the grand entrance. You glance at your phone and wince—you're an hour and thirty minutes late.

The swinging took longer than expected, and to make matters worse, you had to intervene when this ginger reporter was being robbed. You couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

Now, as you wait by the gate, you hear footsteps approaching from inside. The door swings open to reveal Alfred, who freezes for a moment, his eyes widening at the sight of you—bruised, bloodied, and clearly worse for wear. You lean against the gate, your fingers curling around the metal.

“H—Hey, Al.”

“Goodness me!” Alfred exclaims, hurrying over to the gate and pulling it open wide. He rushes over, opening the gate wider and pulling you inside with a practiced ease. His gaze sweeps over your injuries, concern etched deeply into his features. “Miss Kyle, you’re in quite a state!”

You manage a tired smile, carefully pulling the bouquet from your jacket. It’s in rough shape—torn petals, crushed blooms, and snapped stems. It looks like it’s on the verge of dying.

“Sorry I’m late,” you say, wincing as you hold up the sad arrangement. “These… are for you. I, uh, ran all the way here. I hope I’m not too late for dinner.”

Alfred takes the flowers with a gentle smile, his concern momentarily overshadowed by a touch of warmth. “Thank you, Miss Kyle. However, I assure you it’s fine. The others have already started eating. They won’t mind if you—”

“It’s fine! This is just…,” you pause, pursing your lips as you scramble for a plausible excuse. You force a smile, shaking your head and pulling your jacket hood further over your face to hide the swelling bruise around one of your eyes. “Hah, you know how Gotham can be.”

Alfred gives you a sympathetic glance but says nothing more. “Very well. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the dining room.”

He guides you through the grand hallways, your footsteps echoing in the vast space and mingling with the soft murmur of conversation. As you reach the dining room, the door swings open, revealing a table set with care and already abuzz with activity. Selina, Bruce, and the others are seated, their animated conversations abruptly halting as they turn to look at you.

The room falls into a stunned silence, every gaze drawn to your disheveled, bloodied appearance.

Selina’s eyes narrow into slits, her irritation barely concealed behind a strained, tight-lipped smile. Bruce’s complexion drains to an ashen hue, his eyes are wide as saucers, looking like he’s about to pass out from shock. He casts Selina a panicked glance, which she meets with a weary sigh, her hands momentarily covering her face as if trying to shield herself from the mess. She looks utterly drained.

Jason’s eyes flare with a dangerous glint of green as he barks, “What the fuck happened, kid?”

Next to him, Cassandra’s face is blank. Her fingers fidget with her utensils as she shifts her gaze rapidly between you and Selina, trying to piece together the fractured narrative from your battered appearance and Selina’s body language.

Bruce, who had been quietly observing, stands up and approaches you with slow, measured steps.

“You’re hurt,” he says, his voice a deep, resonant murmur. His hands, surprisingly gentle for their strength, settle on your shoulders. His eyes, usually as inscrutable as the dark depths of a stormy sea, now soften with the tenderness of a lighthouse guiding you through a night. “What happened, kiddo?”

There’s a strange, twisting sensation in your gut, flaring just beneath your ribs. A lump rises in your throat, and despite your best efforts to stay composed, your eyes begin to well up.

“I—” you begin, but the words falter. Your gaze drifts across the room and locks onto Damian’s eyes. They’re like emeralds, gleaming with a ferocity that seems to pierce through the walls you’ve built. Though he remains silent, his piercing look conveys a thousand unspoken thoughts and emotions.

A wave of shame is crashing into you, pushing your words back down. “Just… a rough night. Got into a fight.”

Bruce’s eyes narrow, and a wave of seething anger ripples through him. You try to ignore it.

“And who was this?” he demands, his voice a controlled, simmering growl.

“It’s okay. It ended up alright,” you try to shrug it off, forcing a casual tone. “Really, it’s not as bad as it looks. Just a run-in with some rando on the street.”

Everyone’s reactions vary, but it’s the look in Selina’s eyes that strikes you the hardest. Selina’s weary gaze peeks out from behind her hands, and the sight makes your face crumple.

“Pull off your hood,” Selina commands, icy and devoid of warmth. As she straightens in her chair, her blood-red nails dig into the mahogany table, turning her knuckles as pale as frost.

You keep your gaze fixed on the polished marble floor, scuffing the dried mud across its pristine surface. The silence in the room grows heavier with each passing second.

“Take off the damn hood and show me your face!”

Scowling and clenching your jaw, you yank the hood off. As it falls away, the full extent of your injuries is laid bare. Selina’s eyes widen as they take in the black eye, the bruises, and the cuts that mar your face. Her shock quickly morphs into a deepening scowl, her lips trembling as she fights to control her rising anger.

Everyone waiting for the outburst that is sure to follow.

Instead, Selina’s hands fly to cover her face, and she looks as though she might fall apart at any moment.

Bruce stares at you with something akin to horror.

Before anyone can react further, Damian abruptly stands, his chair scraping against the floor. Without a word, he strides over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you out of the room.

His muttered words are barely audible, “I’ll take care of their injuries.”

Bruce moves back to Selina’s side, gently wrapping an arm around her shoulder as he tries to offer comfort.

You can hear his soft, reassuring whisper as you walk away, “You can stay for the night. It’s too late to head out now. Give her some time.”

Selina, her face still pale and troubled, nods gratefully, her gaze tracking Damian as he helps you toward the manor’s second floor.

Damian ushers you into his room, the door closing behind you with a decisive click. He motions to the bed, and you sink onto it with a heavy sigh, the weight of the day dragging at your limbs.

You watch Damian retreat to the bathroom, your gaze lingering on the raw, bloodied skin of your knuckles, tinged with a gnawing sense of guilt.

Moments later, he returns with a first aid kit in hand. He kneels before you, reaching out to tug off your jacket, but you quickly shake your head, not wanting him to discover the suit beneath.

“I’m going to change in the bathroom,” you rasp. Damian silently nods, moving to his closet and pulling out one of his cotton shirts and boxers. He hands them to you with a resigned sigh and leans against the wall beside the bathroom door, giving you the privacy you need.

You take the clothes from Damian and head to the bathroom. As you push open the door, the dim light casts long shadows across the tiled floor. You deliberately avoid meeting your reflection in the mirror, not wanting to confront the full extent of the mess you’re in.

Once inside, you drop Damian’s shirt and boxers onto the floor, followed by your jacket, shirt, and pants. The fabric makes a soft rustling sound as it lands. With a deep, steadying breath, you begin peeling off your suit, slow and painstaking.

As the suit peels away from your skin, the blood and sweat that have soaked into it reveal the severity of your injuries. You wince as the cut on your side comes fully into view, a raw, angry red line that stretches from just below your rib cage to the middle of your side. It looks even worse up close—jagged and still oozing a bit despite the healing process.

You quickly change into Damian’s boxers, opting to keep the shirt off for now. You carefully bundle your suit and hide it under your jacket and pants, folding it as neatly as you can manage. With a deep breath, you step back into the room.

Damian’s eyes narrow as he assesses the cut on your side, now reduced to a four-inch scar due to your enhanced healing abilities. His gaze is hard, and you can almost see the weight of the lecture that would have come if he’d seen the injury in its original, more severe state.

“Sit down,” Damian finally speaks, his voice firm. He begins to open the first aid kit, movements slow. You drop your ruined clothes in a far corner and plop back down on his bed, rubbing your hands together nervously.

A beat passes as Damian finishes cleaning the wound and reaches for the anesthesia, preparing to start stitching you up. You shake your head and push his hand away. “I can take it.”

“No,” Damian scowls and continues his work. He applies the anesthesia despite your protests, injecting it around the wound to numb the area. The needle pierces your skin with a sharp sting, followed by a dull, throbbing sensation as the anesthetic begins to take effect.

He sets the syringe aside and picks up a pair of sterilized tweezers and needle and thread. You watch as he carefully makes the first stitch, his hands steady and precise. The thread pulls tight, closing the wound with a series of tight, even stitches.

His long lashes flutter over his hooded eyes with each focused blink, his emerald gaze intense and filled with concern. The warm ambient light of the room casts a gentle glow on his deep tan skin, accentuating the chiseled contours of his face in a soft, almost ethereal light.

The beam of light highlights the light almost invisible scar that stretches from his cheekbone to his crooked nose, tracing the elegant curve of his cheekbone and the strong, defined line of his jaw. Your gaze drifts to his full lips, noting the perfect cupid’s bow of his upper lip.

His hair is meticulously styled, with longer strands on top falling in inky, sleek waves across his forehead, remnants of gel catching the light. Damian’s thick, well-kept hair frames his face like brush strokes, adding to his strikingly handsome appearance.

Unable to hold yourself back, you raise a hand to cup his cheek. Damian hums, a low, soothing sound that rumbles in his chest. He keeps his eyes focused on your wound but tilts his head slightly to press a soft, tender kiss to your wrist.

With the stitches complete, Damian shifts his attention to bandaging the wound. He secures the bandage, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary as he smooths out the edges. Finally, he raises his head and meets your gaze, eyes conveying everything he can’t say aloud.

Exhausted and overwhelmed, you slump into Damian’s embrace, dropping your hands onto his shoulders. He responds instinctively, taking your hands in his. Large, calloused fingers gently lift yours, pressing a tender kiss to each of them before moving to softly kiss your bruised knuckles.

With a whisper of your name, Damian draws your hands over his shoulders. You smile, sinking deeper into his embrace, arms draped over his strong back. Damian holds you close, lifting you off the bed as he pulls you into a hug. His arms wound up around your waist, pulling you tighter against him.

“You know, trying to keep secrets from me is pointless,” Damian murmurs, a thinly veiled threat in his words peppering kisses up the side of your neck. “I am the son of the greatest detective in the world. I will find out what happened.”

You chuckle softly, feeling the tension ease a bit. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Just let me hold you, you insufferable know-it-all.”

Damian’s grip tightens slightly. His forehead rests against yours, hearts swimming in his emerald eyes. “You’re lucky I tolerate your nonsense. But seriously, you need to start talking.”

“Maybe later,” you reply, smiling against his shoulder. “Right now, I just need you.”

༻⊰───⋅

An hour later, it’s already 1 AM, but you and Damian are still awake, watching a show on his television. You’re curled up together on his bed, the flickering light from the screen painting the room in shifting hues of blue and gray, casting gentle shadows that dance across the walls.

You rest your head against Damian’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close. Despite the late hour, the warmth and comfort of his embrace keep you from drifting off.

“This show is surprisingly bearable,” Damian murmurs.

You smile, nuzzling closer. “Told you it was worth a watch. Thanks for staying up with me.”

Damian’s fingers gently stroke your hair, each touch a soothing rhythm against your scalp. “Of course I’d do it, even if it means enduring your rather questionable taste in television.”

You scoff, pretending to be wounded. “Questionable taste? This show is a gem. You just don’t want to admit I’ve expanded your horizons.”

Damian raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes as he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Expanded my horizons? More like subjected me to a marathon of pedestrian entertainment.”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips despite his words. The episode continues, the soft hum of the TV blending with the comforting rhythm of Damian’s breathing. The earlier tension and worry seem to dissolve into the background, replaced by a quiet intimacy.

Damian’s hand moves slowly, slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. His thumb begins to trace gentle, deliberate patterns on your back. You shiver slightly at the unexpected sensation, a delicate ripple of warmth spreading through you. His touch is soft yet firm, spelling out something with careful precision.

Though you don’t fully grasp the intent behind his touch, Damian’s fingers trace a delicate script across your skin, inscribing the words of Talia’s favorite Arabic love poem onto your back.

“My life shall be sacrificed for her beauty,” his thumb whispers across your skin, “my blood shall be spilled freely for her, and though I burn for her painfully, like a candle, none of my days shall ever be free of this pain. Let me love, oh my God, love for love’s sake, and make my love a hundred times as great as it was and is.”

The gentle pressure of his touch, the rhythmic way his thumb moves, slowly eases you into sleep. As each verse of the poem is imprinted on your skin, you find yourself drifting off, nestled against his chest. Damian tenderly presses his lips to your temple, wishing you sweet dreams.

༻⊰───⋅

Thursday, 3:02 AM - Damian's Room, Wayne Manor.

Dick moves stealthily down the moonlit hallway, his footsteps muffled against the plush carpet. He reaches Damian’s door and pushes it open with a gentle nudge. Despite his careful approach, the old hinges protest with a loud, protesting creak, shattering the quiet of the night and immediately stirring Damian from his sleep.

The sudden noise jolts Damian awake, his reflexes kicking in. His eyes snap open, and in a heartbeat, his muscles tense as he instinctively tightens his protective embrace around you. The world outside fades as his focus zeroes in on the intruder.

Damian’s gaze narrows into a steely glare as he locks onto Dick. In a seamless, fluid motion, he throws aside the blankets and reaches beneath the bed, his hand closing around the hilt of a gleaming katana.

Without hesitation, he draws the blade with a swift, practiced flick, sending the katana arcing through the air toward Dick.

SHINK!

Dick stumbles back, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. The katana thuds harmlessly into the wall beside him, its sharp edge embedded in the wood just inches from his head.

"Such a dramatic wake-up call… Good morning to you too," Dick grins, clearly used to this routine. “Alright. I know it’s late, but Selina is still up. I think she wants to talk to Y/N.”

Damian’s snarl is a low, dangerous rumble. “If you wake her, I will cut your hands off.”

Dick raises an eyebrow, clearly unfazed by the threat. “Come on, baby bird. It’s not that big of a deal. Just let her know she’s needed.”

Damian’s eyes remain locked on Dick, a burning intensity that could have melted steel. Yet, after a long, tense moment, he grudgingly nods, the anger in his posture easing ever so slightly. With careful precision, he unwinds himself from the cocoon of blankets that envelops you, making sure not to jostle you awake.

!!!

But as Damian shifts, your senses stir, your eyes fluttering open to the dim light of the room. Your hand moves instinctively, reaching out to grasp Damian’s wrist, your fingers curling around him with a surprising strength. The sudden contact startles Damian, and he pauses, his gaze softening as he looks down at you.

Confusion and concern flash across your face as you murmur, “Dames?”

He pauses, his gaze softening as he looks down at you, his eyes reflecting a tender regret. “It’s okay. I apologize for waking you, but Miss Kyle is calling for you.”

You tense immediately, and Damian feels a pang of guilt unfurl in his gut for disrupting your rest.

You sigh softly and rise slowly, wincing slightly as though the wound still bothers you. Although your injury has healed, you keep up the act, unwilling to make it too obvious that you’re fine. You know you’re on thin ice, and the last thing you want is to make things more suspicious.

Damian instinctively moves to support you, his hand steadying your back with a reassuring touch as you rise. Dick, lingering at the doorway, casts an apologetic glance your way.

Damian helps you to your feet, his touch steady and reassuring. He retrieves his soccer jacket from a nearby chair and drapes it around your shoulders with a gentle, almost reverent touch. The jacket, well-worn and carrying the faint scent of his cologne, envelops you in its soft, reassuring warmth.

As you and Damian approach the door to his room, you hesitate and turn to him.

“I think I need to handle this alone,” you say quietly. “Can you wait here?”

Damian's eyes narrow slightly, and he hesitates, his protective instincts flaring.

“Are you sure?” he asks, running a hand up your back.

You give him a reassuring smile. “Yes, it’s better this way. I’ll be fine.”

Damian’s expression softens reluctantly. “Alright. I will be right here if you need me, beloved.”

You watch as Damian retreats to his room, his hand sliding around the katana lodged in the doorframe. With a smooth, deliberate motion, he withdraws the blade, the metal glinting momentarily before the door closes softly behind him. Dick, meanwhile, falls into step beside you and guides you down the corridor. His presence is steady and reassuring, a calming force in the tense atmosphere.

As you walk, Dick leans in slightly, his voice a low murmur. “Your mom’s been on edge all night. I’m… not sure what’s going on, but she made it clear she wanted to talk to you immediately.”

You nod, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in your stomach. “I figured as much,” you reply, trying to keep your tone steady.

Dick’s expression turns serious, but a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You really gave us a scare,” he says, his tone softening. “Just remember, as a future Mrs. Wayne, we’ve got your back, no matter what.”

You chuckle softly, the warmth of his words offering a small measure of comfort. Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself for the conversation ahead as you reach the door to Selina’s room.

You turn the knob and push the door open.

Tall windows, framed by heavy drapes, stand slightly ajar, allowing the Gotham breeze to drift through the room. The curtains flutter rhythmically, whispering softly against the glass panes. Selina stands by the window, her silhouette etched sharply against the city’s glittering skyline. Her back is to you, tense and rod-straight.

The door clicks shut behind you, and she turns her head slightly, her gaze meeting yours with a cool, unreadable intensity.

"Are you going to start talking, or am I going to have to drag it out of you?”

“I was just—” you stammer, struggling to find the right words. “I passed by, okay? I saw the situation and I had to intervene—”

Selina cuts you off with a sharp twist of her head. “I have eyes. I know what happened. I was informed about a tech shipment—an underground tech shipment by the docks. It was infiltrated. They found all the men webbed. Webbed. To the walls and floors. Don’t lie to me, honey.”

You sigh, the weight of the truth settling heavily on your shoulders. “Yeah. Okay,” you admit, your voice trembling despite your efforts to stay composed. “It… was planned.”

Selina’s eyes narrow dangerously as she strides towards you, heels clicking sharply against the floors. Her silhouette, framed by the soft, muted glow of the city lights filtering through the window, looms larger than life.

“Did you have a single clue as to whose men those were?” she demands, her voice slicing through the silence like a whip crack.

“I knew,” you say quietly, “I knew they were connected to Black Mask. It was a tip-off, and I thought if I could just—”

“You thought? You thought what? That you could handle it alone?” Selina’s eyes flash. “This isn’t some playground for you to experiment with your powers. You’re dealing with dangerous people—people who won’t hesitate to kill. And if you get yourself hurt—or worse—what good are you to anyone?”

You lower your eyes, feeling the sting of her words as if each one were a reprimand meant to cut deeper. “I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”

“Sorry isn’t going to undo this mess!” she snaps, her hands gripping the edge of a table.

A hand tangles itself into her hair, strands of hair failing over her gaze. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put us through? What you’ve risked by acting recklessly? I’m not just scolding you because I’m angry. I’m scared. You’re my responsibility”

Your anger surges, and you shout, “I know, Mom! I know!” The words escape before you can stop them.

Selina’s expression shifts from anger to hurt, her eyes momentarily softening before hardening again. “Don’t take that tone with me."

“Excuse me?” you snap, stepping closer. “You think you’re the only one who’s ever lost something? Every time I bring up my mother, you just give me the bare minimum! I was going to start digging eventually.”

Selina’s eyes widen, a mix of hurt and frustration flashing across her face. “You think I’m holding back information from you? I’m trying to protect you! When your mother died, I promised myself I wouldn’t let anyone else I cared about get hurt."

“We’re so past that! I’m already knee-deep in this world,” you say desperately, your voice rising. “Mom, look at me! Just look! I have Spider DNA in my veins. My boyfriend is a vigilante. I’ve faced kidnappings and attempts on my life ever since I was born! You can’t keep treating me like a child who needs to be sheltered from reality.”

“I raised you! ” Selina screams, raw and primal, the words tearing from her throat with a force that leaves you momentarily stunned. “I gave up everything to keep you safe, to try and shield you from the worst parts of this life because I couldn’t bear to lose you too!”

Her voice shatters mid-sentence, the tears slipping from her eyes despite her best efforts to hold them back. But she doesn’t stop, pushing through, her words tumbling out in a frantic, desperate rush. “Every time you put yourself at risk, it’s like ripping open a wound that never heals! Don’t you get that? I can’t—I won’t—lose you, too!”

The raw emotion in her voice shatters your anger, melting it away like ice under a warm sun. You step forward, your movements gentle as you grab onto her shoulders, guiding her down into a chair.

“I know, Ma,” you murmur, your voice softening as you try to soothe her. “I know it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry.”

Selina breathes heavily, her anger still simmering just beneath the surface. “I know. I know you’ve been through so much. It’s just—I don’t want you to be a target for Black Mask. He’s a fucking monster, and I didn’t want you to be in his crosshairs.”

“I’m already in his crosshairs,” you whisper, bending down and reaching into your sock, where you’ve hidden the flash drive containing the information you retrieved from the warehouse. You had tucked it in earlier while changing in the bathroom.

“This,” you continue, holding up the small device, “is information on all his future activities. This was the mission I had earlier.”

Selina’s eyes widen in alarm, her fear quickly reigniting into fury. “Have you put no thought into the rules I set? Putting yourself in that kind of danger—”

“Danger I’m already in,” you cut her off. “Danger I’m about to face.”

"Y/N," Selina hisses out in warning, her eyes flashing dangerously, fangs glinting in the moonlight like a cornered cat.

“What? You think you can stop me?” you scowl as she stands. “I’m done playing by your rules. And if you get in my way, I won’t hesitate to take you down.”

Selina’s eyes narrow, and a scornful smile twists on her lips.

"Prove it."

“What?” you manage to choke out.

Without a word, she launches herself toward you. Her foot whips out in a sharp, hard kick, sending you reeling backward. You hit the small balcony with a heavy thud, the harsh chill of the metal biting into your skin.

A pained grunt escapes you as you scramble to regain your footing, the cold air wrapping around you like a bitter embrace.

"Prove it, honey," Selina taunts, her voice dripping with contempt as she saunters toward you. She draws her claws with a slow, deliberate motion, the metal gleaming ominously in the dim light. “Show me you’ve got some fight.”

Before you can fully recover, Selina is on you again. You barely evade her claws, landing heavily on the cold metal railings. The chill bites into your feet, but you push off the railing with a powerful leap, ready to re-engage.

Selina's leg sweeps toward you with brutal intent, aiming to knock you off balance. Reacting quickly, you shoot a web to the railing, swinging yourself back into position and avoiding her strike.

You retaliate with a hard kick to her chest. The impact sends Selina sprawling, her body slamming into the ground. She rolls to absorb the blow, springing back up.

Her eyes flash with anger as she leaps from the balcony’s ledge, executing a high-spinning kick. You twist in mid-air, grabbing the edge of the balcony to dodge her attack and pulling yourself back onto solid ground.

“If you try to stop me, if you try to control me, you’ll only push me further away,” you shout, breath coming in sharp bursts. “And I promise, I’ll fight back with everything I’ve got.”

"Then fight!"

As she swings at you again, you snatch her wrist, twisting it with a sharp, decisive motion. With a sudden push, you force her own claws against her, the cold metal slicing into her shoulder.

Selina hisses in pain, her body recoiling as she shoves you away. The razor edges of her claws carve a deep, angry line across her shoulder, a vivid stripe of crimson blooming against her skin and staining her outfit.

The sight of it catches you off guard, a sharp pang of guilt gripping you as her pain registers. You stand frozen, eyes locked on the streaks of red that disrupt the perfection of her skin.

“Mom—” your throat tightens. “I’m so—”

Selina starts to smile, a small, almost reluctant grin that slowly grows wider. The sight is so unexpected that it momentarily takes you aback. Then, much to your surprise, she begins to laugh—a rich, genuine sound filled with a mix of relief, amusement, and something deeper you can’t quite place.

“You think this is funny?!” you exclaim, bewildered and on the verge of anger.

Selina looks at you with a bitter smile, her laughter fading. She clutches her bleeding shoulder, her expression softening as she lets out a long sigh.

“You really are my daughter,” she murmurs.

You slowly ease from your defensive stance, confusion furrowing your brows.

“Alright, fine. Point proven,” she continues, voice gentler now. “Trying to cage you would only make you fight harder to claw your way out. Literally. I should know better than anyone how that feels.”

“O… kay?” you mutter, still grappling with the sudden shift in her demeanor. “So, I guess we’ve proven my point. What now?”

“Now,” she says slowly, “we talk. Like sane adults. No more clawing each other’s faces off.”

༻⊰───⋅

An hour later, both of you sit on the edge of the bed, cradling cups of warm jasmine tea from the tea set provided in your room—because, of course, each guest room in the Wayne Manor has one.

The steam rises gently from the cups, warming your fingers and offering a soothing contrast to the cool air. Selina sits across from you, her shoulder wrapped in bandages.

As you sit on the edge of the bed, you fill Selina in on everything that’s happened: the mugging with Morgan, the shooting when you saved her, and the whole "guy in the chair" thing. You’re honest about all the other stuff and the support you’ve received, but you leave out the fact that Tony Stark knows your secret identity, keeping that bit to yourself for now.

Selina stares at her cup of tea, her eyes wide with disbelief. The steady ticking of a clock fills the room, punctuating the silence as she processes what you've just shared.

“So, you’ve been pulling all the strings?” she asks. "Orchestrating all of this?"

You lick your lips, choosing your words carefully. Orchestrating is a strong word. More like everything is falling into place. But that does sound better.

“Something like that,” you say, nodding.

Selina blinks, taking a slow, contemplative sip of her tea. “Trying to rein you in would be a lost cause at this point,” she says, setting her cup down. “So, what exactly is the plan from here?”

You place your cup back onto its saucer with a soft clink, the porcelain’s gentle chime briefly breaking the quiet. “I need to dig deeper into Black Mask’s operations. With Morgan’s help, I’ve got the tech and the intel, but there’s still a lot we don’t know.”

Selina nods, tracing a finger along the rim of her cup, her gaze distant. “Batman will notice. The moment you step out into the city proper, you’re going to be a target. And once you’re on his radar, a contingency plan will be set.”

You stay silent, fiddling with your fingers.

Selina’s gaze hardens. “And that’s what worries me. Bruce is just a man—no powers, no special DNA. But if he sets his mind to something, he can take anyone down. I don’t want you caught in that crossfire.”

You open your mouth, but Selina cuts you off.

“That’s why I’ve had my own contingency plan in case Gotham ever fell apart.”

You glance at her, a thread of dread weaving itself into your thoughts. “Contingency plan?”

Selina nods, her tone heavy. “When I first took you in, my plan was to leave Gotham as soon as possible. But then the Catwoman thing happened, and I got… sentimental. I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Still, I made sure we had a backup.”

“Backup? What do you mean?”

Selina’s expression softens slightly. “I bought an apartment in Metropolis. It was supposed to be a safehouse—somewhere to go if things got too dangerous here. I even set up fake identities for us, just in case we needed to disappear fast.”

“Metropolis?” you ask, your disbelief coming through with a half-smile. “Seriously?”

Selina winces, her expression sours. “Yes, it was meant to be a last resort. If things ever got too out of control, or if our secrets got out, it was our escape plan. I didn’t want us to be hunted down. I wanted us to have a safe place to go.”

She cracks her knuckles, releasing some of the tension in her hands.

“It’s still an option if things get too messy. But for now, I’ll help you as much as I can here."

༻⊰───⋅

Damian walks up the stairs, his steps muted against the polished wood. In his hand, he clutches a thick blanket he’s taken from the storeroom. The absence of your presence has made his room feel uncomfortably cold, and he refuses to go back to sleep without you there.

As he nears the guest room where you and Selina are deep in conversation, he slows his pace, the soft hum of your voices drifting through the slightly ajar door.

He knows he should respect your privacy—a lesson he’s learned the hard way after being caught tailing you during patrols more than once. But his curiosity tugs at him.

He lingers outside the room, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, straining to catch snippets of the conversation drifting through the slightly ajar door.

“That’s why I’ve had my own contingency plan in case Gotham ever fell apart.”

The voices are muffled, but Damian can detect the guilt in Selina’s tone.

“Contingency plan?”

There was a pause.

“When I first took you in, my plan was to leave Gotham as soon as possible. But then the Catwoman thing happened, and I got… sentimental. I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Still, I made sure we had a backup.”

“Backup? What do you mean?”

“I bought an apartment in Metropolis. It was supposed to be a safehouse—somewhere to go if things got too dangerous here. I even set up fake identities for us, just in case we needed to disappear fast.”

Damian freezes.

"Metropolis? Really?"

Selina’s voice carries a note of sorrow. “Yes, it was meant to be a last resort. If things ever got too out of control, or if our secrets got out, it was our escape plan. I didn’t want us to be hunted down. I wanted us to have a safe place to go.”

Damian remains frozen in place.

Hunt? Who was hunting you down that made Selina think it was necessary to move rather than seek help from his father? Did she not trust Batman's abilities? Did she not trust his?

His grip on the blanket tightens until his knuckles turn white, the rough fabric digging into his palms like a searing brand. A bitter, acrid taste rises in his throat, mingling with the bile of frustration and helplessness.

Had he not proven his devotion enough? Each time he threw himself into the fray, each time he fought with everything he had, did she still doubt his ability to protect you? His every act of defiance, every sacrifice, should have been proof—shouldn’t it?

Did she think that running away was the answer? Did she believe that abandoning Gotham and leaving him and Bruce out of the fight was a better choice? Her secretive plans, her carefully crafted illusions of safety, were they really a solution?

Panic starts to claw at him, twisting his insides into a tight knot. Or maybe it was because of him?

Gods, he knew you were too good for him, but was he so inadequate that she thought hiding you away was the only option? The thoughts gnaw at him like ravenous insects, feasting on his insecurities. He can almost feel the raw, hot sting of failure as it eats away at him from within.

He remembers the first day he was left with Bruce, the way his own father looked at him, the way his brothers looked at him—like something about him was inherently wrong.

He was the outsider, the boy who had to claw and tear and rip his way into their world, proving his worth to a family he barely understood, a family that barely understood him.

Every mistake he made, every bout of uncontrollable rage, felt like blood on his hands—dark, sticky, and impossible to wash away. Another mark on his name.

And now, Selina’s confession feels like another blow to his fragile sense of self-worth. If even she doesn’t trust him, if even she thinks he’s not enough to protect you, what does that say about him?

His legs grow numb, his head spins with disorientation. The edges of his vision blur, and each breath comes in shallow, frantic bursts. He stumbles forward, driven by an overwhelming need to escape. His body moves on its own, carrying him towards his room.

Was he what Selina was protecting you from?

The thought strikes him like a physical blow, leaving him reeling. The blood, the violence, the cold efficiency with which he was taught to kill—it all comes rushing back. Damian was trained to be an assassin, raised by the League of Shadows to be a weapon, a tool of destruction.

He feels numb as he stumbles into his room, the familiar surroundings doing little to comfort him. He collapses onto the floor, his legs giving way as he sinks to his knees. Clutching the blanket to his chest, he tries to draw some warmth from its fabric, but it feels like an inadequate shield against the cold, hollow emptiness that gnaws at him from within.

The voices of doubt and self-loathing grow louder, echoing in his mind. Damian doesn't know how long he's been sitting on the floor, trying to control his breathing. Time seems to blur, each second stretching into an eternity. His thoughts spiral, a maelstrom of fear and insecurity, until he hears the soft creak of the door opening.

You stumble in, and he freezes.

Your eyes widen as you take in his disheveled state, the blanket clutched tightly in his hands, his face pale and eyes wide with panic. You rush to his side, dropping to your knees beside him.

"Dames," you whisper. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He tries to speak, but the words catch in his throat. Instead, he shakes his head, unable to meet your gaze. He doesn't deserve to.

You hush gently, raising your hands to his face. "Can I touch you? You’re having a panic attack, baby."

He nods, his breath still coming in shallow gasps. Your hands are warm and steady as you cup his face, your thumbs brushing lightly against his cheeks.

"Look at me," you murmur softly. "Focus on me. Breathe with me."

He struggles to follow your instructions, his eyes locking onto yours. You take a deep breath in, exaggerating the motion, and slowly exhale. He tries to mimic you, his breaths hitching but gradually evening out.

"That's it," you encourage. "In and out, nice and slow. You're doing great."

Damian's grip on the blanket loosens slightly as he continues to focus on your breathing, finding a semblance of calm in the steady rhythm. Your presence anchors him, drawing him away from the chaotic storm in his mind.

"You’re safe," you whisper. "I’m here with you. Just keep breathing."

Gradually, the tension in his body begins to ease. He leans into your touch, his forehead resting against yours. The panic that had gripped him so fiercely started to ebb away, replaced by a fragile sense of security.

He sits there, the silence heavy around him, before his voice breaks through it, rough and raw. "Are you scared of me?" he asks.

The question hangs in the air. He doesn’t mention what he overheard, but the question reveals the depth of his doubt.

You gently brush a strand of hair from his face, your eyes soft with understanding. "Scared of you? Damian, I’m not scared of you."

He clenches his fists, the blanket still wrapped around his hands. "I… I can’t seem to do anything right. It’s like I’m always falling short."

"You’re not falling short," you reassure him softly. "You’re human, and you’re trying your best."

You lean in, your lips pressing against his in a tender, reassuring kiss. As you pull back, your eyes are filled with a deep sorrow.

"Can I ask what brought this on?" you whisper.

Damian takes a deep breath, his gaze shifting to the floor as he gathers his thoughts.

“I overheard part of a conversation between you and Selina,” Damian begins, his voice sharp and dripping with bitter resentment. “She spoke of a contingency plan involving an apartment in Metropolis and expressed concerns about someone hunting you down. If… If she felt the need to protect you from something by leaving, does that mean that I’m not enough? That I’m not capable of keeping you safe?”

His words come out with an edge. He meets your gaze with eyes darkened by hurt and anger. “I wanted to be someone you could rely on, someone who could safeguard you, not merely another liability. But now it seems I’m just… inadequate. As if my dedication and efforts amount to nothing.”

You start to speak, but Damian interrupts. “Who’s hunting you down? What’s going on? Beloved, I’ve let you into my life—please, let me into yours.”

“I know, baby,” you say softly, running a hand through your tousled hair as you try to gather your thoughts. “Alright, okay, I need to tell you about something important. It’s about the spider vigilante, alright? There’s something you need to understand.”

“Again with this?” Damian scoffs, his hurt evident as he starts to rise from the floor. The movement makes you panic, and you grab his arm, pulling him back down.

“Nonono, wait,” you say urgently, trying to steady your voice. “Forget that for now. There’s something else I need to talk about—something personal. It’s about me, and I need you to listen.”

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “Okay. There’s a lot more going on than you realize. I’m investigating Black Mask. He’s got some operation threatening Gotham, and it’s connected to everything that’s been happening lately. I’m trying to figure out what he’s up to, and…”

You pause, struggling to find the right words. “And I might have something to do with that vigilante spider you’ve seen around.”

Damian’s eyes widen in surprise, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. He stands there, his mind racing as he pieces together the implications of your confession.

The increased absences, the unexplained injuries—suddenly, everything starts to make sense. He can’t believe he didn’t see it sooner. How did he not connect the dots? The vigilance, the secrecy—it all makes sense now.

You’re the one being hunted.

Brows threaded together, Damian steps closer, taking your hands in his. His fingers brush over your skin, gently massaging small circles.

“I understand,” he says with a grave tone. “I suspected as much. You don’t need to explain yourself, beloved.”

You smile in relief, misinterpreting his seriousness for support of your dual life as Spidey.

“I was going to tell you,” you say, your tone warm and reassuring. “Just… couldn’t find the right moment.”

Damian’s eyes soften, but a steely resolve glimmers within them as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, his lips lingering.

If the spider is the threat, then it’s the spider he’ll take down.

༻⊰───⋅

Thursday, 7:53 AM - Stark Industries, Gotham City.

Hours later, Damian pulls up to the sleek, glass-fronted Stark Industries building. The structure towers above, its façade a mesmerizing expanse of reflective glass panels that catch and scatter the sunlight, creating a dazzling play of colors. A polished steel entrance welcomes visitors, a bustling crowd already walking in and out.

As the car comes to a smooth stop, he turns to you with a soft, reassuring smile. You reach over, pressing an affectionate kiss to his lips.

His fingers gently brush your cheek as he murmurs against your lips, “Be careful.”

“I will,” you beam, pulling back to meet his eyes. “Promise.”

With one last lingering look, Damian reaches over to unlock the car door. You open it and step out onto the curb, unloading your bags. Damian gives you a final wave as he shifts the car into gear, gliding smoothly down the street and disappearing into the city’s bustling flow.

You clutch your bags tightly in your hands. Exhaustion pulls at your every muscle—patrol, the fight, and the travel have left you feeling like you're on the edge of collapse. After everything that went down last night, you can’t help but feel a bit relieved about the month off from school, courtesy of your internship.

Bags under your eyes betray the sleepless night, while the oversized shirt and sweatpants you’ve borrowed from Damian make you look more like you’ve just rolled out of bed than a professional intern.

Technically, you did roll out of bed, having snagged only about three hours of sleep.

How the hell did Batman and the Robins manage to juggle this kind of life week in and week out? Right now, you feel like death is just a breath away, waiting to claim you.

“Hey, kiddo!” Tony Stark’s voice calls out from a distance, cutting through your fog of exhaustion. “You planning to stand there and stare at the building all day?”

He steps out of his sleek convertible, tossing his keys to the valet with a flick of his wrist that’s more showmanship than necessity. As he strides towards you, his eyes do a quick sweep over your state.

“I offer you the top spot in my program, and this is how you show up?” Tony says, giving you a light shove on the shoulder.

You give a weary sigh and shuffle alongside him into the building. “Good to see you too, Mr. Stark.”

Tony continues with a smirk, “Don’t worry, you’re not the first intern to look like they’ve been dragged through a war zone.”

He leads you into the sleek, glass-walled elevator, pressing the button for the upper floors. The elevator hums softly as it ascends.

You turn to him, trying to muster the energy to keep up with his banter. “So, where’s Morgan?”

“Working on your new tech stuff,” Tony replies. “She’s buried under a mountain of circuits and cables. If you’re lucky, you might get to see her emerge from her tech fortress.”

The elevator doors slide open, revealing the upper floors of Stark Tower. Tony leads you down a pristine, modern hallway where glossy surfaces catch the ambient light, enhancing the tower’s futuristic vibe. He stops in front of a door adorned with a sleek plaque bearing your name.

You gawk at it, your sleep-deprived brain barely processing the sight. “Damn.”

Tony pushes open the door, revealing a spacious, elegantly furnished room. Floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of the cityscape, and the room is equipped with a large, comfortable bed, a sleek desk, and a cozy seating area.

“Welcome to your new digs,” Tony says, gesturing grandly. “I’d say it’s a bit of a step up from your old place. Given your current state, though, I’d suggest you take it easy for now. Rest up, and maybe try to look less like you’ve just walked off a horror set, okay?”

Despite your exhaustion, a small but genuine smile tugs at your lips as you take in the surroundings. “Thanks, Mr. Stark. It’s really… nice.”

With a casual salute, Tony heads towards the door. “Anytime. Now, go on and get some rest. I’ll let Morgan know you’re here. If she manages to claw her way out from under her tech mountain, she might swing by to say hi.”

༻⊰───⋅

A few hours later, you’re well-rested and dressed in a much more presentable outfit: a crisp white button-up shirt with the first few buttons undone, tucked neatly into flared slacks, and paired with white sneakers.

After one last check in the mirror, you give your appearance a satisfied nod, then rub the last remnants of sleep from your eyes. You head out of your room and make your way toward the elevator.

Pressing the button, the elevator doors slide open with a smooth, hydraulic hiss. You step inside and swipe your ID card against the scanner. The elevator's high-tech screen lights up, displaying a seemingly endless list of floor options. You whistle as you scan the array, finally selecting the tech room.

Just as the elevator begins its ascent, a voice suddenly speaks up, making you jump with a startled yelp.

“Good morning!” the voice says cheerfully. “Welcome to Stark Tower. How can I assist you today?”

You quickly recognize the voice as FRIDAY, the building’s AI system. You’ve read about it in papers and seen it on TV before. The holographic interface on the screen activates, displaying a friendly, animated avatar of FRIDAY. The AI greets you with a warm, digital smile and a cheerful tone.

“Oh. Hi!” you respond, a bit thrown off. “I’m, uh, just heading to the tech room.”

“Understood,” FRIDAY replies smoothly. “I’ve already noted your arrival. The tech room is on your left once you exit the elevator. Please let me know if there’s anything else I can help with, sexiest vigilante.”

You blink at the nickname.

“That’s definitely Morgan’s touch,” you mutter.

The elevator doors slide open, revealing a workshop that looks like it’s been hit by a tornado of technology. Equipment is strewn everywhere, and tangled wires snake across the floor. In the center of the chaos, a few remains of a fire extinguisher lie scattered. Morgan is crouched in the middle of the mess, her hair a wild tangle and her face streaked with grease and soot. She’s working intently, completely absorbed in her task despite the disorder around her.

You clear your throat, and Morgan looks up, freezing mid-action. Part of her shirt is charred, and a small flame flickers from one of the devices she’s holding.

“Let’s be honest,” she says, waving a wrench at you, “you’ve seen me in worse shape.”

Shaking your head, you step into the room.

“Looks like you’ve been busy,” you remark, your eyes scanning the cluttered area.

Morgan quickly puts out the fire and brushes a few stray wires out of her path before standing up and stretching with a groan. “You wouldn’t believe the morning I’ve had. Between the latest tech malfunction and the mini-explosion, it’s been one chaotic circus.”

“Should I even ask what set off the explosion?”

Morgan chuckles dryly, wiping her hands on a grease-stained rag. “Oh, just a little experiment gone wrong. Nothing major. Just some excitement to kick off the day.” She steps over to you, grabs a case from a nearby workbench, and hands it to you with a grin.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued, as you take the case from her. With a click, you open it to reveal a pair of sleek, high-tech glasses.

Morgan plucks them from the case and holds them up with a grin. “For you. They’re packed with all sorts of features—real-time data, targeting assistance, and even advanced communication options. Basically, they’re your new best friend in the field.”

You slip the glasses on, adjusting them to fit comfortably. The world immediately sharpens, and a translucent display overlays your vision, showing various readouts and notifications. You gasp in awe, your amazement reflected in Morgan’s fond smile as she watches your reaction.

She then moves to grab another device—a metal-looking belt that covers your entire stomach. At its center is a spider emblem. She clasps the belt around your waist and gives it a reassuring pat.

“Tell it to go on,” Morgan instructs.

Confused, you turn to her. “Huh?”

“Just think of a suit wrapping around you and command it to do so.”

You give her a skeptical look but decide to give it a try. Closing your eyes for a moment, you focus on the idea of your suit materializing.

“Activate?”

Immediately, you feel a tingling sensation as nanoparticles begin to stream from the belt, enveloping your body. The sensation is oddly comforting, like being wrapped in a warm, secure embrace. The suit materializes in shimmering panels, stretching and shaping itself around your form. The glasses transform into a sleek helmet, molding to fit your head with a satisfying click.

The entire process takes mere seconds, and when you open your eyes, you’re fully suited up.

The suit fits perfectly. The color is a deep, vibrant red that covers the majority of the suit. Black accents trace intricate web patterns that start from the center of your chest and radiate outwards.

The chest emblem is a bold, black spider, its legs extending across your torso and seamlessly merging with the web patterns. The helmet, now a sleek, black mask with a smooth, glossy finish, features white eye lenses that glow faintly. The same high-tech display you saw in your glasses is now visible in the helmet.

Morgan grins, clearly pleased with the result. “Not too shabby, right?"

"What. The. Fuck."

 ༻⊰───⋅

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #batfamily #dc robin #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne imagine #selina kyle #bruce wayne #batman

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lupinmoonlight · 7 months

Note

Hi! Could you write an alpha prof!remus x omega reader in heat. He gets her to his office after lessons to offer help and she agrees to spend the night( breeding kink)

Masterlist AO3

Alpha, please.

Summary - You are an omega about to experience her first heat. Professor Lupin offers to help and you end up getting railed in the Shrieking Shack (3,416 words).

Warnings - teacher/student relationship, omega verse, alpha!remus, omega!reader, breeding kink, unprotected sex, dubious consent because reader not very in control, age gap, my grammar (english is not my first language), not proof read.

Notes - Throwing this here and RUNNING AWAY. I am SO sorry for the delay, I was hit by a bus (jk lol i'm just burnt out). On a serious note, this was my first time ever writing something in the Omegaverse. Sorry if it sucks :( Thank you to everyone for your patience. I will eventually get to your request!

He noticed your scent before noticing you- a wave of pure, unadulterated omega scent that struck him like a physical blow, a visceral assault on his senses. The classroom, usually a blend of various scents, was now entirely dominated by this scent. Your scent, one of an omega on the cusp of her first heat yet blissfully unaware of it but one that Remus, an alpha, sensed with every fibre of his being. It was rich, sweet, intoxicating, awakening a primal need he had learned to control years ago. An almost uncontrollable need to own, to mark, to protect, to make his.

As an alpha, the presence of an unclaimed omega, especially one as evidently oblivious to their own nature as you, was concerning. Why were you there without suppressants? How could you not know what was about to happen to you? It was dangerous. Both for you and for any other alpha around, yet there you were, looking as calm and serene as if it were just another day.

You took a seat at the front of the class, your eyes glued to him. He was tall, commanding, exuding the authority and confidence of an alpha and you hated to admit how much it drew you in. Deep down, you were not interested in following the traditional roles of your status. You didn't want to submit to anyone. The thought alone filled you with dread...except right now.

The class began and Remus found himself incapable of focusing on his carefully prepared lecture, distracted by the powerful need for something he didn't even allow himself to entertain. It was like all his senses were heightened. He could hear everything, feel everything. Too much.

The lecture drew to a close, and you began to slowly pack up your belongings, your mind unconsciously reluctant to part from your professor. He made you feel so-

"Y/N, may I have a word with you before you leave?" Remus asked. His voice was calm but it held an underlying urgency that he hoped you wouldn't notice.

You looked up to him, your eyes wide and innocent, and in that moment, it felt like you would've done anything this man asked you. What was wrong with you?

"Yes, Professor Lupin?"

He cleared his throat, attempting to appear casual.

"Y/N, I... uh, I need to discuss something somewhat personal with you, and I apologize for the discomfort," he began.

Your brows knitted in confusion, your posture tense. "Something personal, Professor?"

He paused, gathering his thoughts, carefully selecting his next words. "I've noticed...that is, I've sensed...that you might be approaching a significant time that's inherent to your nature as an omega."

Your expression shifted from confusion to embarrassment, unsure where he was going with this. "I- I'm not sure to understand, Professor... what do you mean?"

Remus hesitated, his instincts as an alpha to protect and take charge clashing with his respect for you and your autonomy. "It seems that uh... you're about to experience your first heat, Y/N. It's a critical time for an omega, and it can be very dangerous if you're not prepared or aware."

Your eyes widened, your embarrassment escalating into fear. "My first heat? But... I- I didn't know... I thought I had more time before... before that happened," you admitted shyly.

Remus nodded, trying to appear comforting despite the turmoil raging within him. "It's unpredictable at times, especially the first one," he assured you. "It's imperative that you have a safe place and proper care during this period, especially considering that... well I assume, considering you haven't been on any suppressants."

You looked away, uncomfortable. "No... no I haven't."

"That's okay. That's why I'm offering to help. I can provide a safe place for you, ensure that you have what you need to get through this safely. It's not ideal... but I cannot, in good conscience, let you face this alone."

You suddenly wanted this very much, despite your habit of fighting your inner nature at every turn- no. You were not going to be a weak, vulnerable omega who needed an alpha to protect her. You could manage. You would manage. This was no big deal.

"I can handle it myself, Professor," you said, trying to sound confident but failing pretty miserably.

"I understand, but I assure you, my intentions are solely to offer protection and support. I wouldn't suggest this if there weren't a genuine need."

At that moment, you weren't sure if he was just very good at being persuasive, or if your pathetic omega nature begged you to bend to his "protection".

"Are you sure?" the question coming out more as a challenge.

"Yes, I am. It's my responsibility as your professor and as an alpha to ensure you're safe," he affirmed.

"O-okay, fine."

"Just come to my quarters at the end of the day. I'll have everything prepared for you. We'll make sure you're as comfortable and safe as possible," he instructed and this time, his tone was firm, leaving no room for you to argue back.

You simply nodded and made your way out of the classroom. The conversation had left you disoriented. Your lifelong determination to maintain independence and resist alpha authority was now clashing with an inexplicable trust in your professor.

You had never expected your first heat to come so suddenly. You thought there would be signs to prepare you, like most other omegas. But no. It was just there. And what was more embarrassing was that it wasn't you who found out first. It was an alpha. And your professor, at that.

You seriously considered not going to his quarters that night. Not because you were scared or didn't trust him, but just for the shame you felt. That shame, however, was quickly overshadowed by fear. You knew what could happen to unclaimed omegas who were in heat and who didn't take suppressants. Not all alphas were as kind as Remus. Some of them were vile predators ready to pounce on the first vulnerable omega they smelled. Somehow, you knew- rather inherently felt, that Remus wasn't like that.

Swallowing your pride, you made your way to Professor Lupin's quarters, your stomach an absolute mess from the strange blend of anxiety and odd sense of security.

Remus was already out by the door, a small bag in hand, a gentle smile, albeit somewhat anxious, expression gracing his face.

"Thank you for coming, Y/N. I know this must be overwhelming," he said, trying to keep his voice soft and reassuring.

You nodded, not sure you could trust your voice in that moment.

He offered a small smile, then gestured for you to follow. "We're not staying here. I have a safer place in mind."

You obeyed silently, following him through the corridors and then outside, the only sound being the small vials of potion clinking in the bag and the soft thumping of your feet on the wet grass.

You had no idea where he was taking you, but it didn't matter. In that moment, you were quite literally trusting him with your life, and you hated that.

Stopping before the Whomping Willow, Remus motioned for you to wait at a safe distance, and you watched in awe as he expertly pacified the violent tree, revealing a hidden entrance to an underground passage.

Without questioning him, you proceeded in silence, making your way through some damp, sketchy tunnels. This was definitely not how you had expected to have your first heat and your need to be with him was growing stronger and stronger. In normal circumstances, you should have been scared, terrified even, following a grown alpha to Merlin-knows-where, but you actually were starting to feel desperate, aching for something you couldn't explain.

You finally emerged into an old, creaking building, full of dust and looking like it was about to fall apart. Despite this, fresh blankets were laid out on the bed, candles provided a soft light, making it look somewhat comfortable.

Remus carefully set down the bag of potions and turned to you, looking a bit sheepish.

"It's not much, I know. But this place has been a refuge of sorts during my time here as a student... it's secluded, away from prying eyes and other... influences," he explained, deliberately vague about the deeper reasons.

You looked around, taking in your surroundings. He was right, this wasn't much, but it was safe. "Thank you, Professor Lupin."

"Please, call me Remus here," he insisted gently. "I'll let you settle down. I'll be just next door. If you need anything, just call for me."

"Thank you, Remus."

In the adjacent room. Remus sat rigidly, every muscle tensed, focusing on every breath, attempting to anchor himself to his resolve. He was battling his own nature, his instincts, usually so well-contained, were now threatening to overwhelm him, fuelled by your potent scent. It had been years since he'd felt such a primal pull, and he had never acted on it. So he sat, focusing on deep, steadying breaths. it was all he could do to maintain control.

Meanwhile, you were beginning to experience the torturing onset of your heat. It was a violent assault of unfamiliar sensations, confusing, intense, leaving you feeling profoundly alone yet achingly in need of something- something, specifically Remus. The room felt too large, too empty, yet suffocating.

Unable to bear the isolation and the escalating ache, you called out, your voice echoing a desperation you barely understood. "R-Remus... Remus, please... I don't know what's happening to me."

Remus hesitated at the door, his hand clenched around the frame. "Y/N, I'm here. Tell me what you need," he encouraged.

"I need... I need... I feel like i'm losing my mind. I need... I don't know," you stammered, your confusion and need radiating from you in a way that tugged relentlessly at Remus' instincts.

He stepped just inside the room, his expression a mix of concern and fear- for you, for himself, for the line he was terrified of crossing. "I know, I know. I understand. It's your heat... and it's strong. But I brought something that might help," he said, retrieving a vial from the small bag he had brought. "Drink this; it should ease the symptoms."

You took the vial with trembling hands and drank the potion, your eyes never leaving his as he sat cautiously at the edge of the bed.

"Why is this happening to me like this? Shouldn't the potion work immediately?" you asked, panic evident in your tone.

"It should, but... your heat seems to be very strong. Let's just wait for a moment. I'm here."

"Remus... it's not working. Please, I need..."

"I know what you need, Y/N. But I can't give it to you. We have to wait it out. It's going to be alright."

This wasn't going to do. Being far from him was painful. Being close to him without getting what you needed what torture. You needed him in a way you had never needed anything else before. You needed him to consume you, to take you, to mark you, to breed you.

"Alpha, please," you whispered without even meaning to. The moment the words left your lips, Remus froze, his heart racing as every fibre of his being, of his soul, responded to that word. It was spoken with such raw need that it resonated with the very essence of his being. His resolve shattered, not out of defeat, but out of an overwhelming need to fulfill his role as an alpha.

Before you could react, you were flipped onto your stomach, the sound of a low growl reaching your ears. You were not even in control of your body anymore. Your instincts were controlling you, and you desperately raised your hips, presenting yourself to him in the most intimate way.

The sight made Remus' blood travel south immediately. Already hard, he yanked down your trousers before unbuckling his own. You raised your hips higher, whining pathetically, desperate for him to take you. As he looked down at you, his cock throbbed with need and he knew then, there was no going back.

"Please, alpha," you begged again, your voice trembling. "I need... I need you."

"Fuck..." he growled, reaching down to position himself at your slick entrance. "I'm sorry," he started, his voice trembling, "this is the only way I know to help you."

You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain and pleasure that would soon consume you. "Please," you whimpered, "I need this."

With a grunt, Remus pushed himself into you, your bodies connecting in a way that was both deeply intimate and primal. You gasped at the intrusion, your body trembling as you felt him filling you.

He felt you tighten and tense as you tried to accommodate his size, your body reacting instinctively. "Relax," he instructed, his voice a low rumble. "You need to relax. Let me take care of you."

His words, the authority in his tone, something deep within you responded. You forced yourself to relax, even as you felt his girth stretch you. He hissed in pleasure as he felt you accommodate him, your tightness almost too much.

"That's it, good girl," he rasped out, one hand coming to rest on your lower back to steady you. His hips snapped forward, burying himself fully within you.

You moaned, your entire being blissfully consumed by the feeling of fullness.

"Are you alright?" he asked, staying very still within you.

You could only nod before another desperate plea escaped you. "Yes, alpha... please, more."

At that, he allowed his instincts to fully take over. His hands gripped your hips painfully, and he began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful. A part of him was urging him to be gentle, but the other part, the alpha, was screaming at him to take what was his, to claim, to mate, and it was too strong to resist. He needed to feel you beneath him, to lose himself in the pleasure of your connection.

You clung to the sheets, your nails digging into the fabric as Remus continued to rut into you. Your body rocked with every thrust, and soon enough, the pain began to fade, replaced by a blissful warmth that spread through your body. He knew he was taking a risk. A huge risk. But he couldn't help himself. He needed you, and you needed him.

"Fuck, Y/N," he grunted as he continued his relentless pace. He leaned over you, his chest against your back, your bodies moulding together as though they were made for each other. "You feel so good," he growled low in your ear, his voice deep, rasping, reflecting his unending hunger.

Each of his movement was sharp, controlled yet desperate, a constant rhythm of push and pull and he delved deeper into you, the pulsing throb of him only heightening your pleasure.

"Alpha... alpha, please... I- I'm going to-" you tried to say but your orgasm tore through you with such force that you lost your voice. Remus didn't slow down. If anything, feeling you clench around him only fuelled his punishing pace.

"I'm going to knot you," he announced. "I'm going to fill you up. Mark you as mine," he continued breathlessly. "I want everyone to know you're mine, to see you swollen with my seed, to see you bear my mark."

You whined, barely able to hold yourself up from under his weight, but you managed to keep your hips elevated, desperate to be filled, to be marked, to be owned.

His movements became jerky, sporadic as the wave of his release began to crest, each thrust of his hips pushing you further down into the mattress. "Take it," he rasped, "take my knot," his voice a harsh whisper against the shell of your ear before his teeth latched onto the soft skin of your neck, imprinting his mark on you.

You moaned at the mix of pain and pleasure as his hand traveled down your arm, tangling your fingers together and with a final, deep thrust, he surrendered to the pleasure, his body shuddering as he came inside you. His hips flush against yours, his body draped protectively over yours as he poured himself into you with abandon. Finally he stilled, grunting as he felt the knot at the base of his cock start to swell.

The sensation was foreign, somewhat painful, and you tensed, almost instinctively trying to move away.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay," he tried to soothe, still panting from his intense climax. "Stay still for me. It'll subside soon, I promise."

He remained on top of you for a while, the knot locking you together, securing a powerful and intimate bond between you. His fingers stroked your skin gently, before he carefully maneuvered you to your side, spooning you protectively as his knot was still deeply lodged within you.

"I know, it's okay. I'm just making you more comfortable. I've got you," he soothed as you whimpered from the movements.

You stayed like that, your bodies intimately connected, until the knot subsided enough for Remus to pull out. You whined at the sudden loss and the wet warmth spreading between your thigh.

As he felt you relax into him, Remus gently kissed your temple before carefully disentangling himself from you. With a flick of his wand, the wet feeling between your legs disappeared and a blanket was draped over you.

Turning to the potions bag, Remus retrieved a vial, his hands slightly trembling as he grasped the small bottle.

"Y/N, can you sit up for me?" he asked gently, offering his hand to support you.

With his help, you managed to move into a sitting position, your movements languid, utterly exhausted from what had just transpired. Remus handed you the potion, noticing your confused expression.

"This is uh... it's just a precaution... to prevent any unwanted consequences," he explained, uncomfortable from the intimate implications of his words.

Your cheeks flushed with a hint of color as you took the vial, your fingers brushing against his in the exchange.

"Oh, I... thank you."

"I know this looks like... perhaps I had planned for this to happen. But I promise, it is not the case. I simply keep this sort of supply for any students who may be in need."

"I trust you, Remus. And this was bound to happen, one way or another... and I'm glad it was with you."

"Well, I... erm. It's important to stay hydrated, especially after this. Here," he said, trying to change the subject.

You laughed softly, accepting the water from him. He had this way of knowing exactly what you needed before you even knew yourself. You were actually thirsty, and the cool liquid helped soothe your parched throat.

As you sipped your water, a sudden sharp pain caused you to reach for your neck, your fingers brushing against a fresh, deep red mark. You looked at Remus with questioning eyes, seeking an explanation.

Remus, visibly uncomfortable and with a hint of regret in his eyes, cleared his throat before speaking. "That's... that's a mark. My mark," he began, struggling to maintain eye contact.

"In the heat of the moment, it's something an alpha can leave on an omega. It's a claim, a deep, instinctual reaction that seals a powerful bond. I didn't mean to- I should have controlled myself better."

Your fingers lingered on the mark, your initial shock giving way to a different emotion, one of a surprising acceptance and even a hint of joy. "Does this mean... are we mates now?"

Remus nodded. "Yes, it does. And I'm sorry, Y/N. I didn't intend for this to happen this way. You're a student. I should have been more careful, more in control. But please know, I will take responsibility. I will take care of you, support you, and I promise, I won't be overbearing. I'll-"

"Remus, stop," you interjected, amused by his words tumbling our in a flustered rush. A smile crept onto your lips, a sense of deep contentment washing over you.

"I'm not upset. In fact, I'm...happy," you confessed.

Remus looked up, surprised. "You are?"

"Yes, I am. To be marked by you, to be your mate... it feels right, despite everything. I don't see myself with any of those young inexperienced alphas..."

"Young inexperienced alphas," he echoed. "Are you calling me old, miss?"

"Yes, maybe I am..."

#remus lupin #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x reader #professor lupin #professor lupin x reader #alpha remus lupin #omega reader #smut

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captain039 · 1 month

Text

Couch time

Logan (Wolverine) x mutant!reader x Wade (Deadpool)

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, comfort

It’s a little too quiet in the apartment, Blind Al has gone on a well needed vacation at a lovely olds people get away home you rented for her, the woman didn’t even say thank you, packed one bag and left within half an hour. You don’t blame her, living with Wade was hell, living with Wade and Logan was also hell, living with Wade, Logan and you was just downright cruel that even Satan himself would not be here. You stare at the ceiling, in your towel having just gotten out of the shower. Neither of the boys were home doing god knows what, but you’re thankful for the silence, apart from the ceiling fan squeaking every time it moves. You flick it off with a wave of a hand and sigh, hands resting behind your head again. You go off on a day dream not hearing the door open till a loud gasp rings out and something drops to the floor. You frown screaming when you see Wade and Logan in the apartment doorway, you slam your door shut with your powers and calm your heart down.

“It’s ok Babe! Honestly, I didn’t see anything!” Wade giggles afterwards like some evil mastermind that tells you he did see something. Not that the towel didn’t cover the important bits, but laying their with it just covering your boobs and hitting your upper thigh was more skin than you’ve shown either man, any man for that matter. You grumble hover your clothes to you before getting dressed and going on your phone, not daring to open the door. You stay in your room out of embarrassment and pettiness to Wades constant nagging till it goes surprisingly quiet again and a small knock comes.

“He’s gone Bub” Logan calls out and you shiver a bit. Damn him, damn them both actually, and their stupid masks. No you didn’t have a mask kink. Well that’s what you tell everyone else. You peek out seeing Logan sitting back down on the couch, newspaper in hand and a mug which is probably filled with whiskey. You sit down on the couch wishing Wade would buy a bigger one seeing as all three of you cannot fit on it, and the other chairs are uncomfortable. You lift your hand, open the freezer from your spot on the couch, open the cupboard hover a glass and pour yourself some juice before floating it over to you. You glance feeling eyes on you seeing Logan staring with a small smile before he goes back to reading his newspaper. You flush press your thighs a little tighter together and sip your juice. Wades back quickly and he grins when he sees you making you throw a book at his face with your telepathy. He groans and you glance to Logan who smirks but continues to read. You smile to yourself before you turn on the TV. Wade forces himself between the two of you, Logan swears and you grumble getting comfortable again. Wades arm goes behind your back casually, his other behind Logan. It’s roughly dinner time now and neither three of you want to get up.

“Take away?” You ask.

“Fuck yes” Wade says and you look to your room and hover your phone to you.

“So cool” Wade giggles and you roll your eyes ordering some take away.

After dinner you’re all watching some crappy horror movie the channel chose, you’re leaning heavily against Wade without realising and apologise when you catch yourself doing it a few times. He just smirks at you and you shrug it off before you rest against him again and frown as his arms goes around your shoulder, while his fingers draw lazy patterns on your arm. It feels nice and you find yourself lying more on him and your eyes getting heavy. You try to stay awake but you lean against Wades chest and fall asleep surprisingly easily.

Wade smirks when he feels you lean against him before you sleep and his heart picks up. He looks to Logan who looks seething with jealousy and it makes him smirk. Logan is either choosing to ignore his arm around his shoulders or is waiting till you’re asleep a little while longer to slice it off. Only he doesn’t and Wade finds himself tired too, what more perfect pillow than a human/Wolverine heater. Wade shuffles a bit making sure not to wake you, you stir a bit and he freezes before you relax. Wade leans against Logan pushing his luck with a small smirk as he tilts his body to rest his back against Logan’s shoulder/chest area while tugging you closer. You go willingly even with your mumbled sleep talk you lay on his chest fully as he lays against Logan.

“See this is nice” he whispers teasingly and Logan grunts in warning.

“Oh come on as if you’re-“ Wades stunned to silence for the first time as Logan’s arm he’s leaning on goes over his chest and over your back, holding you both to him.

“I’ll slice your fucking tongue out if you don’t stop talking” Logan growls and Wade shivers in response before nodding enthusiastically. Logan rubs your arm gently and Wade grins at the content look on your face.

#x reader #Logan x reader #Logan x wade #wade x reader #Logan x reader x Wade #fluff #deadpool and Wolverine

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chestnutninny · 2 months

Text

Dinner Date

No warnings, just pure fluff with Emily :)))

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The last few weeks, you had noticed Emily’s change in behaviour. She had been a lot more subdued than usual and it was starting to show to the rest of the team too. Every time you were both in the same room, her head would remain down and if you tried to talk to her, she would just stammer out an excuse and run off somewhere else.

“You know, you should just ask her out.” Derek remarked.

“What?” Emily responded, genuine confusion flashing across her features.

“Those feelings that you have, they aren’t going to go away any time soon. Trust me. What’s the worst that she’ll say, I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Emily frowned at him, not fully agreeing with his statement. She could think of lots of bad ways it could end up turning out, you being completely disgusted by her admission. However, she knew that at least then she’d have some form of validation.

She sat at her desk, plucking up the courage to ask you out, and thinking of how she would word it. She thought that she would keep it casual and just ask you out for dinner, but ultimately decided that coffee would suffice if you were limited for time. She stood up and made her way towards your desk as you were packing up your belongings, getting ready to go home after finishing your paperwork.

“Hey.” She greeted, nervously shuffling from foot to foot.

“Hi, Em!” You looked up at her, a smile taking its place on your lips. She couldn’t help the blush that tinted her cheeks at the nickname that effortlessly slipped from your mouth.

“I was thinking…”

“Oh no, I thought I could smell burning.” You joked with a smirk on your face, trying to lighten the mood as you could see she was nervous. You watched as she visibly relaxed slightly, a chuckle leaving her mouth in a sigh as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“Would you…” She started and abruptly stopped, watching as your face waited for her to continue, “Would you like- I mean, if you’re not busy…We could get lunch or dinner? Or maybe just coffee, if you don’t have a lot of time?”

“Do I make you nervous?” You stood closer to her, her breath catching in her throat, as you tucked a lock of her raven hair behind her ear. You chuckled as her head nodded rapidly, “I can do dinner.”

“Wait, really? I can’t lie, I didn't think any further than that, I wasn’t expecting you to agree.”

“Aw, Emily. Well, have a think about a date and time and just let me know.” She nodded along and returned back to her own desk, smiling as you exited the room.

“As if you picked her up, stuttering like that.” Derek laughed, feigning shock when Emily threw a scrunched up piece of paper towards him.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The next day, Hotch had told everyone that they would have a shorter day, only having to do the final bits of paperwork that was left. You were earlier than the majority of the team, wanting to get a head start of the work. You looked up as you felt someone stood above you.

“Good morning.” Emily chirped, setting a cup of coffee down on your desk.

“Morning. Is this for me?” You smiled when she nodded at you walking past your desk and sitting up to her own.

You looked at the cup and took notice of the sticky note that was attached to the side of the cup. You took it off and took a sip of the warm beverage before reading the note. You hummed as the coffee enveloped your taste buds, blushing as you released that Emily had remembered your very specific order, before shouting a “thank you” over your shoulder.

‘Hey, pretty. Be ready for 7, I’ll see you then.’

You held the note closer to you, getting a smell of her perfume, your stomach doing backflips at the thought of tonight.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

You stood in front of the mirror, checking yourself out in the small, black dress you decided on wearing, admiring the way it hugged your curves and pushed up your cleavage just enough to grab Emily’s attention. You still couldn’t completely shake the nerves that you were feeling, yet excited to finally have Emily in a way that wasn’t just friends. You were excited to see where she had decided to take you, when suddenly a knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts.

You answered the door, seeing Emily standing at the other side of the threshold to your apartment. She was wearing a white dress shirt with flared black trousers, the pants fitting snugly around her hips. She was holding a small bouquet of flowers out towards you, all of your favourite flowers compiled together perfectly.

“Hey, you.” You leaned forward, planting a kiss to her cheek, a satisfied smirk leading its way on your face at the blush that kept up Emily’s neck.

“Hey! Wow, you look so beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Em. But I think you take the title for the most beautiful.”

You invited her into your apartment and she handed you the flowers, watching as you put them in a vase after filling it with water. She waited patiently for you to slip your shoes on and grab your purse before heading towards the front door. After you locked your door, you linked your arm with Emily’s and headed down to the parking section of your apartment complex.

“You know, I never actually gave you my address.” You bumped your shoulder with your own as you squinted your eyes at her.

“Well…Okay, I may or may not have asked Garcia to look it up on the computer system.” She shrugged nonchalantly, however you could see the embarrassment bubble in her eyes. You giggle at the flush that covers her face, and the way she avoids your eyes.

As you reach her car, she pulls your door open for you, waiting for you to get comfortable before closing the door to make her way around to her own side of the car. She ensures that you have your belt on before putting the car into drive and setting off towards your destination for tonight. You gasp as you pull into the parking lot of a new, and very fancy, restaurant that had just opened just outside of your town.

You didn’t even want to think about how costly this place is and how Emily had even managed to snag a reservation at the restaurant as the demands were high. You were pulled from your thoughts when your car door swung open, revealing Emily stood by your side with her hand outstretched, ready for you to take. You unclipped your seatbelt and took her hand, letting her guide you to the entrance to the restaurant.

She gave the reservation name at the front desk, following as the waiter led you both to your table, which was quiet and private in the corner of the restaurant. She ordered drinks for you both as you looked through the ample meals that were presented on the menus in front of you both. You settled on a risotto, which you couldn’t completely pronounce the name of, and Emily ordered the Fiorentina steak for herself.

The conversation flowed easily between the two of you throughout the night, and you noticed the confidence that Emily had slowly started to gain, showing that she had become more comfortable about being around you, especially alone together. You had both finished your meals and had ended with your dessert, just sipping the remains of the red wine that resided in your glasses. Emily had waved the waiter over to pay the bill, declining your offer of going half with her payment.

“You didn’t have to do that, Em.” You complained, knowing that she had spent an absolute fortune on the meals that you had helped devour.

“Well, I wanted to have the best first date with such a gorgeous woman.” She winked over to you, which left you blushing and stuttering over your words, the tables having completely flipped by now.

She led you out of the restaurant, your hand in hers, and guided you back to the car before she set off to drop you back off at your apartment. She turned on the radio as you both settled into the car, and your favourite song started to play, echoing off the windows of the vehicle.

“Oh my God, I love this song!” You exclaimed, you smile growing as Emily’s hand reached over and turned the volume up more, so that she could hear it better.

She giggled to herself as the chorus came on and you began to sing your heart out to the song, watching the way you looked so happy and care-free, you looked the most beautiful right now. The song came to a close and you both sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying the company of being together right now. After a while, the car pulled into your apartment complex and Emily looked over to you.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” She decided, opening the driver's door before opening your door for you.

You reached for her hand as you walked up the path to the main doors, and closer towards your apartment. You decided to take the stairs rather than the lift, wanting to spend as much time with Emily as you could before the night was over and she retired to her own home. You both slowed as you arrived at your apartment door,her hand lingering in yours.

“Thank you for tonight, Em. It’s honestly been amazing.” You smiled as your head dipped down, your hair falling slightly to frame your face.

“No, thank you, Y/N. I’m glad that I finally had the courage to ask you out. I’m really excited for our next one.”

“Ohh, so there’s going to be a next on, huh?” You smirked, despite the butterflies that were fluttering in your stomach with nervousness and excitement at the mention of another date with Emily.

“U-Um, only if you want of course?” Emily stuttered, her confidence flattering slightly.

“Of course, Emily. I’d love nothing more.”

You reached into your purse, pulling out your keys and sliding them into the door. Emily reached out her hand and took your hand in hers, giving it a squeeze in order to gain your attention. She tucks a strand of your hair that came loose behind your ear.

You leaned in closer to her, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt her warmth breath on your face, a complete contrast to the cool night. She leaned in and closed the gap in between you both. Her hands caress your cheeks, holding you close to her face, her body pressing against your own.

“Thank you for tonight, Y/N.” Emily gasps out as you both part, coming up for air.

“Goodnight.” She pressed a kiss to your cheek, before setting off back down your corridor.

“Goodnight, Em.” You whispered back, watching as she turned the corner to the corridor, shooting you a smile over her shoulder as she disappeared from your sight.

You let yourself into your apartment and set down your belongings, a huge grin residing on your face after your incredible date. You couldn't wait for tomorrow at work, knowing exactly that Emily would return to her stuttering self without the liquid courage, and you could already see the deep blush setting on her face when her eyes would meet your own. You were snagged from your thoughts as your phone pinged.

‘I’m home, sweetheart.’

Your heart fluttered at the nickname as well as her informing you that she was home and safe. You slipped on your pyjamas and got into bed. As soon as your head hit the pillow, your eyes fluttered shut and your head filled with happy memories of the night that you’d just participated in.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Taglist: @borinxnovak @zolofts @lolololalalala @chloeelou02x (join my taglist here.)

#emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #criminal minds

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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months

Text

if you call me back

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'mutual pining' rated: T wc: 864 cw: angst with a happy ending, mention of being drunk tags: mutual pining, long distance friends, friends to lovers

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

"Hey, Eds, just me checking in. Dustin said you lost your job and I didn't know if you already had another one or not. Uh. Just call me when you can."

"Me again. Heard you got a new job! I didn't even know a record store opened in Hawkins. You must be happy about that. Um, well, I guess call me when you can?"

"I know this is kinda the worst to get a lot of voice messages, but I just...miss you? Sorry, I just. Needed you to know that. If I upset you or something, you can tell me."

"Eds! Listen! If you call me back, I gotta tell you something! Robin said I can't say it over the phone though! Ouch, sorry, just stubbed my toe. Uh, okay wait. I think I'm drunk."

Eddie listened to every voice message on repeat every night before bed.

He didn't know why he didn't call Steve back, especially after the last message that left him dangerously hopeful that he would admit he had feelings for him.

They'd naturally drifted when Steve moved away with Robin, though they'd kept up weekly phone calls for months. The highlight of Eddie's week was getting to talk to Steve about the kids and hear about his exciting life in the city.

But after a few months, the calls got shorter, and then Eddie decided that he had to pull away completely before Steve unintentionally broke his heart.

It wasn't Steve's fault he couldn't keep things strictly platonic.

The phone ringing startled him out of his thoughts.

He looked at the clock and frowned. It was much later than Steve usually called, even the one drunk message was from closer to ten instead of one in the morning.

He answered, hoping it was just Wayne checking in from work.

"Hello?"

"Edward."

Robin.

"How're things, birdie?" Sounding casual would work for him, right?

"Things for me would be a lot better if I wasn't dealing with the mopiest human being on the planet right now."

He could hear the crossed arms in her voice.

"Oh?"

"Oh? That's all you've got? You don't return Steve's calls for almost two months and all you've got is 'oh'?"

Had it really been that long?

"I-"

"Don't wanna hear it. Can you please at least call him back and break his heart so he can move on? I cannot deal with the pining anymore."

She hung up before he could respond.

Well.

He dialed the number for their apartment, hoping Robin would at least explain more of what she meant.

"'Lo?" Steve's voice, rough with sleep, answered.

"Uh."

"Eddie?" Steve sounded like he'd just had cold water thrown on him, much more awake. "Holy shit. Hi."

"Hey. Uh-"

"I'm sorry," Steve interrupted.

"Sorry? For what?"

"Whatever I did to make you not wanna talk to me."

"Steve, I-"

"No, I just. I know sometimes I'm needy or clingy or whatever. Robin doesn't mind it because she is, too, but I know it's annoying. Like, you have a life that I don't belong in and I just have to get used to that. I should've taken the hint sooner."

Eddie's heart was racing.

Now. Do it now.

"Why would you think you don't belong in my life?"

"It's just that you always talk to everyone else, but not me. I kinda got the message, just, maybe later than you hoped."

"Stevie..." Eddie sighed, his grip on the phone tightening. "I miss you every minute of every day. I just thought...you seem happy there. I don't wanna make you feel like you owe me anything."

A whimper could be heard on the other end and Eddie felt his stomach drop.

"Eds, I." A pause. "I didn't wanna do this over the phone, but I won't be back in Hawkins for another month. I'm sorry this might change everything, but I can't keep doing this. I love you. I love you so much that some days I think about packing up and moving back there because having you laughing next to me on the couch sounds worlds better than anything this city has to offer. You've been one of my best friends for a year, and not having you next to me is like my chest is actually trying to cave in on itself."

"Oh." Oh.

"Oh?"

"Oh."

"Is that...all?"

"No, sweetheart, I just think I'd like to say the rest in person. Think you can make time for me to visit tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow? Don't you have work?"

"Not anymore. Tell Robin to stay somewhere else."

"Oh."

Eddie smirked as Steve let out a breath and cleared his throat.

"I have a shift in the morning, but I can be home right after lunch?"

"Perfect." Eddie started pacing as he mentally planned what he needed for his four hour drive. "Grab some lube if you don't have some. We've got a lot of time to make up for. Oh! And before I go, I love you too."

"You do?"

"Yeah, Stevie. Kind of been head over heels for the better part of a year."

"Oh."

"Mhm."

"Tomorrow?" Steve was smiling and Eddie could feel his heart melting.

"Tomorrow."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #mutual pining #angst with a happy ending

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mikgreo · 4 months

Text

try to forget her.

sypnosis. rin knows you’re far from reach. he didnt mean what he said, he knows he never will. hes slowly spiraling into madness. fully aware you may never come back. What will happen after he comes back from Blue Lock?

pairings. itoshi rin x fem! reader

content. angst, swearing, casual sae hating, au! before blue lock project but he later on goes into it, intrusive thoughts, mentions of self harm, depression, mentally ill rin, starvation, coping mechanisms, basically really mentally ill rin. unstable relationship, mentions of underage sex. dunno what else

wc. 2.7k

a/n. sadly very ooc.. not proof read. heavily inspired by tyler the creators snippet *try to forget her* i saw an edit and immediately thought i should do some type of angst fic with it. PART 2 IS CONFIRMED!!!

itoshi rin, a man full of disgust towards anything and everybody. many thought of him as self absorbed, selfish, a man with a distinctively huge ego. many admired him only his looks, some because of his brother, some not at all.

but if there was one thing everyone know about itoshi rin, it was that he was a hell of a striker. many acknowledged his skill at the sport, he led his team to victory, but was it really for the team, or for him?

it was no secret that rin had a brother, more successful and skilled. nobody had ever known why there was such tension between them, no one bothered to ask why.

rin hated being compared to the man he hated the most, he wondered if it was hate, admiration, jealousy maybe? he never really mentioned it. not that he had anyone to mention it to.

Rin did not set differences aside, he wanted to do everything his brother accomplished, but better.

Rin wanted to be completely better than Itoshi Sae. he wanted to have his own title in the soccer world. he wanted to be admired for being Itoshi Rin, not Sae.

He thought, “whatever i have that he doesn’t, will be one step closer to getting to my goal.” he desperately tried to obtain every skill he could to stand out.

Rin wasn’t exactly worse than Sae.. but he wasn’t any better. one could say there was just a tiny 10% that separated them, only in skill.

Rin was attractive. he had a good body, good voice, good grades. he was every girls dream man. his personality didn’t stop any woman from being head over heels for him, but it would always change once they saw his brother, only being blinded by the richness and success, rather than looks.

one could argue they were equal in everything but soccer.

it had come to the point where Rin couldn’t figure out what he was missing. until you showed up one day.

there was an exchange student, not only exchange, but foreign. you were from (country) and it just so happened to be the one Rin had always dreamed of going to.

when he set his glowing teal eyes on you, he was mesmerized. you didn’t look like the average japanese girl, or obviously an average tourist.

your beauty was something he couldn’t comprehend.

your hair looked so silky. your skin so smooth yet had the faintest texture. your outfit was carefully picked out, obviously not having a school uniform yet. your makeup so beautifully done, not being too packed with it, just enough to make him acknowledge it.

your lips were plump and glossy, your cheeks were flushed and shiny, all red from the embarrassment.

your lashes so long, not as long as his he thought, but long enough. your eye color wasn’t anything special but he just felt like it was. your eyebrows so perfectly shaped, but natural.

he looked further down, to your body. he could care less but he had to take in the amount of beauty you carried..

your legs looked so perfectly long and smooth, you were obviously shorter than him, just right. your arms rested by your sides so perfectly as well. your cutely done nails, how your hands had no scars, obviously belonging to a woman who’s taken care of herself.

he listened as you spoke, your voice had no roughness, no cracks no nervous vibrations. it was smooth and quiet. calm.

you were sat next to him, what a coincidence. the teacher put you there temporarily next to rin because he was the top student, we could help you catch up.

Rin introduced himself to you, catching you looking at his lips as he spoke, he remained nonchalant and just did as he was told.

you had told him you weren’t very fluent in japanese, but knew the basics, you could understand japanese, just not speak. your father was japanese, from the kanto region, and had gone to america for work, meeting your mother.

he taught you many things and helped you improve your japanese.

a couple months passed, you had asked him to meet you on the stairs before the top floor.

thats where you had confessed to him, he could never forget what you said.

“itoshi-kun..i am very sorry if i butcher this but.. ive been meaning to tell you for a very long time, about how i feel. so if you will let me, may i share this with you?”

rin chuckled at the hesitation and nervousness in your voice, knowing you didnt have to be so fancy with honorifics or anything, or call him by his last name.

“Yeah sure, go ahead.” he smiled at you slightly.

“Ever since you and I got closer, Ive felt a weird feeling inside my chest. everytime i heard a girl talk about you my heart would sink. i started caring more about your whereabouts and opinions. i found myself being worried about you, and caring about what you thought. i would get up in the morning excited to see you, trying my best to look pretty for you. i tried to go to all your games and support you even if you wouldnt see me, even if i would blend in with other girls. i was glad i got to sit next to you, i am grateful for it now. because it led me to become closer to you, and not anyone else. Itoshi Rin, i like like you. i love you. and i want to be together, as a couple. i understand if you dont feel the same way bu-”

“y/n.. i love you too.”

you two went on to have the best memories together, you had told rin a 9 months into your relationship that you were a virgin. you two ended up having sex. you went out together, he met your parents, he didnt feel comfortable about his family so he left it at that. you understood.

you two were in love.

you guys went on to date for 2 years, but whenever rin turned 16 things started to get weird.

you and him were always fighting. he would ignore you at times, sometimes hours, sometimes days.

you were understanding of his soccer career, not that it was much of a career, yet you never told him.

you just wanted him to be there for you, with you.

the start of november, you decided to confront rin about it.

“Why do you always fucking ignore me for that shitty ass sport?! all you do is make fake promises and go on and say how youre sorry and youll do better but do the same thing but just worse. im not asking for alot itoshi but for the love of god please act like you fucking love me again.”

rin was on his last straw, he didnt know why he was so mad, maybe it was because by the day his brother was getting better and more popular, he was determined to be better than him, even if it meant ignoring you, and setting you aside.

“Look y/n, i dont fucking know why you care so goddamn much. mind your own fuckin’ business and find something to do. all you do is complain, i need space okay?! Im not sorry to say this, and im gonna dumb it down for ya, your annoying, wasting my time, and i just need you to leave me the fuck alone alright? stop fuckin’ running yer mouth and be good at somethin’ for once. fuckin’ bitch. all you use your damn mouth for is to complain, go get a job or sumthin’ i dunno. wish you never fucking came to japan.”

you never said anything and walked out of his house.

2 days later you had sent him a message sending him farewell and you loved and hoped he would grow on his journey as a soccer player.

ever since that day, no matter how much rin tried to find your whereabouts, he always failed.

he felt miserable. he wanted you back.

how could he? he said so many things to you, he meant them at the time, but it wasnt his fault. he didn’t mean to bottle everything up. he wouldve talked to you about it, maturely.

he blamed it on his brother, like he always did.

he thought it was some kind of bad luck spell Sae had given him.

Rin suffered in silence.

he missed you he missed your touch, the way you would look at him and hold him, how you would whisper cute things in his ear while you cuddled.

he missed how he would open every door for you, he made you bento boxes, he missed your home made chocolate. he missed how he would spot you in the bleachers at his soccer game, he would pretend to not see you out of embarrassment.

he dreaded sitting in the same seat he sat in whenever you met, seeing you sit next to some other random dude.

how could he just forget about you? when you’re there everyday at school. he hated seeing you look miserable, alone.

he knew you still werent that good with the language, so you were unable to make friends, let alone girl ones. they all hated you for your relationship with rin.

he was worried. he wish he could have you in his arms and tell you everything was going to be okay.

he felt extreme guilt as the days went by, remembering how you have your own family problems, your own health problems.

how did he just leave without a fight? how did he accept you two were done and went on with his day.

he remembered about all the memories. how you two had sexual relations, despite being dumb teenagers. you didnt do it more than 3 times, but he still thought of it as special.

he missed how you cradled him in your arms, rubbed his cheeks, gave him massages after practice or games.

he missed you playing with his hair. your kisses. your soft warmth of your body. everything.

he wish he chased you, fought hard to keep you, beg for you.

but he didn’t.

thats when the thoughts started happening.

rin would find himself on the edge of his bed thinking about how your life would be with another man.

he sat on the floor of his bathroom and sobbed, knowing there was a zero chance in hell you would forgive him for anything.

he hated himself. he hated what he was, who he was.

it got so bad rin started praying night. he prayed for you, about you, for both of you. he begged and sobbed to the man he believed was up in heaven somewhere judging him for his actions. the man he believed put him in this situation to suffer.

he would never harm himself, he knew that. but he fought his intrusive thoughts. he didn’t want to make any cuts on his arms, he always thought they were unnecessary.

instead, he unconsciously starved himself.

rin couldnt eat, he couldnt sleep.

he couldn’t take care of himself or his room, he was a mess.

he wanted to disappear, he wanted to just pretend he never came into this world. he hated his mother for birthing him, he hated his brother even more.

he couldn’t think anymore, he layed on his bed. staring at the inanimate objects around his room.

he missed you, he thought about you.

about your mother, and father whom he met.

about your siblings and pets.

he missed who he was.

he tried to forget those things

“try to forget her.” he said to himself as he woke up for yet another day of school.

rin liked to think he could telepathically, someway, talk to you when he really tried.

“i just hope you saved my number,” he thought, “Call me when you can.”

he knew you had blocked him, but had you really? what if you missed him too. what if you couldn’t forgive him, but you could miss him.

he thought surely you missed your long talks at night on the phone, cuddling with him, having lunch together.

was it all a blur to you? did your people not care for relationships?

Rin went out on walks sometimes, to help cope, to help him forget, to ease his mind. he stared at the ponds, the fish, the trees. the sky, the clouds. he wondered what the plants felt like, being all alone, unable to move or speak. how they felt whenever a dog would urinate on them, or how a tree felt when a couple carved their initials on it.

did they need to scream? cry? laugh?

he went into a state of derealization at one point, for about 2 days, he thought he wasn’t here.

he was just a ghost, you were a dream, his brother wasnt his brother, he was just a sad dead person with free time. alot of it.

he hated being here.

Rin repeated the same cycle everyday.

wake up, shower, eat breakfast, brush teeth get ready for school.

see you in class, sitting alone, sometimes with a random person you had assigned seats with.

go up to the rooftop for lunch, seeing you at the stairs as he went up, trying his best to not acknowledge you.

go to soccer practice

walk the path to your house, then to his.

check the mail. go inside his house.

take off his clothes, take a shower, lay in bed, and eventually, after some tears, fall asleep.

Rin felt lost, he lost his will to try.

he continued exceeded at sports and school.

that he never worsened in, he was always top 1 and remained that way.

that was until his teacher asked him to help you again, since you were failing.

“I understand if you two have broken up, it is none of my business really. But if you could set your arguments aside and focus on her academic work, that would be amazing. She’s really struggling again, Itoshi-kun. If you are unable to please let me know.”

Rin had a selfish feeling, he was glad to know that you were also struggling like him over the breakup.

he let his ego get to him, sometimes the thought that it might just be your family crossed his mind. but he always settled on that it was the fact that you two broke up.

rin planned to talk to you about class, of course it being just an excuse.

he decided he was gonna do it the following day, november 20th, 2018.

unfortunately, you weren’t at school that day.

he thought nothing of it, he was just gonna ask you tomorrow. same plan same everything.

he was gonna confess his feelings of regret, and guilt. he was going to own up to missing you.

rin went home that day, devastated, but a slight excitement for tomorrow.

he was happy, that tomorrow might be the day that everything goes back to normal.

he checked the mail.

he had received a letter, something claiming that he had been chosen to go into some stupid Blue lock project. saying the meeting is in september 4th.

he ignored it.. but it interested him. he was gonna go, he thought why not?

you hadnt gone to school all week.

rin asked his teacher if he knew why you hadn’t attended school, claiming he just needed to talk to you about tutoring you.

“Oh, y/n-san? she’s gone to america, to visit her grandmother, she should be back september 4th.”

september 4th? thats the day he had to go to that meeting. that tuesday he would be gone and you would be back.

he began to worry, what was he gonna do?

the day of came. he decided to go to the soccer program, figuring he would just see you the next day.

“is this the right place? it looks all weird. i wonder what bullshit they’ll say.” he scoffed, looking at the letters address slightly looking up, matching it to the building number.

they had told him they wouldn’t be allowed to go back home, they would stare at this Blue Lock, until they fought to find the best striker in japan.

Rin was angry. Angry at himself, angry at this strangers.

part of him lured him to do it. he wanted to become better. he wanted to be the best.

but what about you?

ive never written angst before i hope i did good for my first time..😭

#rin itoshi #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock rin itoshi #itoshi rin #rin itoshi angst #angst #blue lock angst #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk #im crying #mikgreo writes

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writerracha · 2 years

Text

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ just a kiss — han jisung x female reader

↻ 3.7k :: friends to lovers :: cw. alcohol (not in the smut scene). semi-public making out. dry humping. some dirty talk. fingering. oral sex. mention of squirting. use of "baby" pet name. protected sex. aftercare.

↻ 18+ :: not proof read, pls be kind :: masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The music is not that loud, but combined with the sound of conversation and the video game on the television, the apartment is noisy.

It’s also warm from everyone that is packed there. Both of those things you are used to, because it’s always the same. Every month, your friends organize a party at their place, and you’re guaranteed to have a fun night full of drinking, playing games and talking. At this point, Jisung and Changbin’s parties have become legendary in your friend circle, and you never miss one.

Tonight, though, you feel a little tired, and the alcohol isn’t sitting right in your stomach. You stop drinking early, focusing instead on playing a few rounds of a board game before you head towards the living room. You find Jisung there, who has been a little quiet, and waves at him. He waves back, so you join him. You fall back on the couch, letting your head rest against his shoulder. You look up at him with a smile, and he answers with one of his own.

“You look bored, Ji,” you tell him.

“I’m not bored,” he retorts, pouting slightly. “Just… I’m just…”

You frown. “Is something on your mind?”

He takes a deep breath, and you sit up to look at him better. He doesn’t look upset, perhaps just a little too calm, twirling the cup half-full of soda in his hand. Jisung is usually the life of the party, but you know he has to work early tomorrow morning and decided not to drink tonight.

“It’s just…” He winces. “It’s stupid.”

You shake your head. “I’m sure it’s not stupid. Come on, you can tell me.”

You nudge his thigh a little, encouraging him with a smile. The both of you have been friends for months now - and you really like spending time with him. He’s talented, smart, the funniest you know. Jisung gives you a quick look.

“Is it just me or is everyone getting laid these days?” he finally blurts out.

You blink in surprise, unable to suppress a small laugh. Jisung rubs the back of his neck at your reaction.

“Told you it was stupid,” he mutters.

“I’m sorry I laughed!” you reply. “It just surprised me. But…” You let out a long sigh. “You’re right, now that I think about it.”

You look around the room. Case in point: Hyunjin is heavily making out with his latest girlfriend, and Jeongin has already disappeared with a hook-up. Changbin has a girlfriend, Felix too… You bite your lip.

“I just realized it’s been a while since I even kissed someone, you know,” Jisung says. “I miss kissing. I like kissing.”

You smile. “Kissing is fun, I agree.”

You turn back to Jisung, who is sliding a hand through his messy blonde hair. He has let it grow a little the past few weeks, and you like the way it falls back on his forehead. He’s dressed casually, in just a black t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, but he has this natural charm that lingers around him. You cross your legs next to him.

“Maybe we can find someone for you to kiss tonight,” you tell him with a smile.

Jisung glances at you. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not? There’s plenty of people…”

He shrugs. “There’s no one here I’m interested in.”

You open your mouth, but then you close it again. Why do his words sting so much? You like Jisung, but not in this way… At least, you don’t think so. Frowning, you realize you haven’t answered anything, and your friend blushes a little.

“I’m sorry, that was a little blunt, I didn’t mean -”

“It’s fine, oh my god,” you chuckle. “We can find someone. I have friends that are not here tonight… I don’t think you know them, so maybe I can find a match, if you want?”

You’re smiling at him. Jisung looks back at you, his lips parted, his smooth cheeks still a little pink. After a few seconds, he nods, although he looks nervous.

“Yeah. Okay, why not.”

You grin, pull out your phone from your pockets and scoot closer to Jisung. “Let’s see who we have.”

Jisung slides his arm behind you so the both of you are more comfortable looking at your phone. You scroll through your contacts, pulling up Instagram profiles to show your friends to him. Jisung provides some commentary, helping you find the perfect match. As the minutes go by, it gets more and more difficult to focus - you realize that Jisung smells really good. His body is warm next to yours. His breath tickles your skin when he laughs, and his eyes shine in the dark. You haven’t been drinking that much - but you’re a little tipsy, and you end up leaning against him, perhaps a bit too much.

“Hmm, I don’t know… She says she’s really into the outdoors, I’m not,” Jisung chuckles as he checks a profile you show him.

“True,” you laugh. “You’re a homebody like me.”

“I really like her style, though. Combat boots are hot.”

You stop for a second, unable to help from glancing at your own shoes. At the combat boots you are wearing right now, and that you wear almost everyday. You decide not to comment on it, but Jisung is strangely silent next to yours. Swallowing, you open another profile.

“W-what about her?”

“I like her glasses. What is she like?”

This time you definitely blush, and you are glad for the darkness in the room. Pushing your glasses higher on your nose, you tell Jisung about your friend, trying to ignore the erratic heartbeat in your chest. Why are you freaking out? Jisung clearly said he was not interested in anyone in this room… And you’ve never felt anything but friendship for him. Of course, you’re not blind, Jisung is handsome, and always kind to you.

An hour later, you two have settled on your friend Lola - she’s a music major like you and Jisung thinks she’s cute. It’s enough to justify a date, and you know her well enough to be comfortable to ask if it’s all right to give Jisung her number.

You try really hard not to stare at Jisung’s mouth, and not to let the words slip through your lips. You can kiss me if you want. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

But then again, why wouldn’t you?

Later that night, after you’ve had a few drinks to try and get Jisung out of your thoughts, you go to the bathroom. You’re tipsier, maybe a little drunk. You walk in front of Jisung’s bedroom, whose door is open. It seems like he’s just getting a charger from a drawer. You don’t think - you just enter the bedroom and approach him.

“Oh, hey,” he says, noticing you, holding the cable in one hand. “Chan needs a charger, I just…”

“Jisung,” you tell him, putting your arms on his shoulders.

He blinks at you, chuckling a little nervously. “What’s up, Y/N?”

“You can kiss me if you want.”

“W-what?” he sputters.

You pout. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. Consider it practice. For your date with Lola.”

Jisung gulps, looking at you, trying not to let his eyes linger in yours for too long. You’re looking so pretty, with your glasses slipping down your nose. Jisung has been trying not to think about kissing you all night - and now you’re just offering it to him. You’ve been drinking, but you’re not completely drunk. You just got liquid courage. Jisung is painfully sober.

You smile softly. “I won’t be hurt if you say no, if that’s -”

“Okay.”

Your heart skips a beat as Jisung smiles shyly at you. He takes a step closer to you, his hands landing on your hips, the charger forgotten in his fingers.

“Just a kiss,” he whispers, leaning in.

Your lips meet his halfway. The kiss is delicate and timid at first, but as you fall into the embrace, Jisung kisses you with more confidence. His lips are soft, taste like the soda he’s been sipping all night. You can’t help but wrap yourself around him, because he kisses you so well you’re getting dizzy.

Jisung breathes out in your mouth and you feel your body shiver. You want his hands all over your body. You want his lips to keep pushing yours, to go down your neck, your collarbone…

You both lean back at the same time, staring at each other with wide eyes.

This was a little too good.

Your mouth feels dry, and Jisung’s hands are still on your hips. His lips look intoxicating, all red and wet from yours.

After a few seconds you let out a nervous chuckle. “That didn’t feel like you haven’t kissed anyone in a while.”

Jisung laughs, taking a step back, removing his hands from your body. He slides a hand through his hair. You wish it was yours instead. “Really?”

“You’re good, Ji,” you assure him with a sincere smile. “Lola is a lucky girl.”

“R-right.”

You bite your lip, wondering if you’ve just made a horrible mistake. But even if it is, you can’t regret it.

“I-I should head back,” you say.

“Yeah, me too, Chan is waiting for his charger…”

You nod, and Jisung lets out a laugh. You don’t know why, but that relaxes you. You shake your head, sharing an amused glance with him, and you both head back to the party.

Just a kiss between friends.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The next day, late in the evening, you find Jisung in a corner of the library, bent over his computer, clearly deeply focused on what he is doing. Still, when you sit down next to him, he removes his headphones. You had texted him a few minutes before, telling him you had news.

“Hey, what’s up?” he whispers.

“I spoke with Lola.” You keep your voice low. There’s not that many people around in this part of the library, but there’s still a few students studying around.

Jisung’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh.”

You give him a triumphant smile. “She said she’s interested! I have her number, you can just text her, and…”

You stop as you watch Jisung’s face. He does not look happy - in fact, he’s looking down at his hands, biting his lip, like there’s something he’s not telling you. You frown.

“What’s wrong?”

He clears his throat, looking uncertain.

“It’s okay if you changed your mind -”

“Y/N…”

Something about the way he calls your name freezes you into place. You look at him as his eyes meet yours, your breath suddenly unsteady.

The truth is you haven’t stopped thinking about kissing Jisung since last night’s party. Your eyes keep wandering on his mouth, his plump lips. He smells good. His arms look like they could hold you tight…

“I’ve been thinking about all day, and… I don’t want to go on a date with Lola,” he breathes, his eyes still in yours. They shine so bright and deep. You feel dizzy. “I…”

You so desperately want the words to escape his lips. Has he been thinking about the same thing as you?

“About last night…”

You look down at your hands. “Listen, we don’t have to talk about it. It was just a kiss. Like I said, it didn’t mean anything.”

You glance at Jisung, who is frowning. When your eyes meet, he just nods. “Right. Of course. Sorry.”

There’s a sinking feeling in your chest. You need some air - so you give a quick smile to your friend. “I need to go. I’ll see you later.”

You stand up and walk away, crossing through bookshelves, the eerie quiet of the library oppressing your mind. You can’t regret kissing Jisung. But you should have waited, maybe. For a better time, a better place. Now you are scared to lose your friend.

“Y/N, wait.”

You feel a hand around your wrist, and you spin around to find Jisung. He has visibly thrown all of his things in his messenger bag, looking distressed. You frown.

“What is -”

“I don’t want to go on a date with Lola because I can’t stop thinking about you,” he breathes. “Ever since last night, and even before…”

You don’t know what to say. Your heart is beating so fast in your chest you feel it’s going to explode. Jisung slips his hand from your wrist to take your fingers between his. He steps closer to you, and you look up at him in wonder.

“Please, Y/N… If you want to, can I kiss you again?”

The answer is simple - you nod. Jisung drops his bag on the ground and immediately pushes his lips to yours in an intense and deep kiss. A soft moan escapes you, and he gently pushes you against the bookshelves. You are trapped against his body, your hands sprawled on his chest as he kisses you feverishly. His lips toy with yours, his hands cupping your face.

“Ji…” you breathe, “don’t stop kissing me.”

“I won’t,” he answers, placing small kisses on your lower lip. “I can’t.”

You open your mouth wider for him, and he slides his tongue, pushing it against yours. You arch your back, the feeling sending warmth throughout your body. Jisung does not waver, still playing with your tongue, but you feel his hips gently push against yours.

It’s so silent in the library, all you hear is the wet sounds of your mouths and Jisung’s heavy breathing.

“Fuck…” he groans. “You’re gonna get me hard.”

The words make you instantly dizzy, and you can’t deny your own arousal. Jisung’s kisses and tongue is making you wet.

“Can we go back to your place?” you ask softly.

He nods, taking a step back. Your lips are raw from kissing, your cheeks red from your excitement. Jisung smiles at seeing you this way - you look so attractive, he can hardly contain himself. He takes his bag from the ground, slides his hand in yours, and guides you to the exit of the library.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

You do not even know if the apartment is empty - but honestly, you do not care. Jisung pulls you into his room, closing and locking the door behind him, and you can hardly breathe. You just want him to touch you, to kiss you again.

When his lips find yours again, you don’t hesitate to moan at his touch, grasping his t-shirt to bring him closer to you. He wraps his arms around you, his fingers digging in the skin of your hips, breathing hard.

“C’m’here,” he breathes, and spins you around so he can guide you to his bed.

Soon he’s laying on top of you, carefully removing your glasses to set them down on the bedside table. Your fingers are in his honey colored hair, and his lips leave a trail of kisses on your jaw and down your neck. His tongue laps at your sensitive skin, making your body jolt at the same time. You’re drenched, aching for more of him, and it’s reciprocal - you feel his erection against you.

He removes your shirt, palming one of your tits through your lace bra, pressing the back of his thumb on your nipple. It draws a sharp breath from your lips and Jisung smiles.

“Is that sensitive?”

You nod, and he pinches your nipple softly. You let out a moan.

“You sound so beautiful, baby.”

“Ji, you’re so hard,” you whisper to him, and you wrap your legs around his waist so that his erection is placed right against your cunt. Despite both of your jeans you can feel the pressure and it sends a shiver through your spine.

“Fuck,” he grunts as you rolls your hips. “Fuck…”

He starts to thrust his pelvis, rubbing himself over you, as if he was already fucking you. The friction makes you clench around nothing. Jisung dry humps you, his cock hard inside of his jeans, and your own walls soaked in your arousal. You’re desperate to get rid of the layers of clothing, but you can’t bring yourself to stop.

“F-fuck, I want to fuck you so hard…” Jisung breathes in your ear, teasing your lobe with his teeth.

You’re digging your nails in the skin of his back, so warm you feel like you’re on fire. “Ji, please, I want to feel you.”

“Me too, baby, let me see that beautiful body of yours.”

You both start to take off the rest of your clothing, stealing restless glances to each other. When you are both naked, Jisung takes a long look at you, and you do the same. He’s much more defined that you have thought, and you think about those hours he spends with Changbin at the gym. Kneeling on the bed straddling your legs, he stares at you, mouth parted, one of his hands jerking his erect cock mindlessly. You bite your lip, pressing your tits together to tease him, and Jisung smirks.

“What a cute little tease,” he smiles. “I’m going to do much more than kiss you now.”

“I hope so,” you tell him, grabbing his chin in between your fingers to pull him back to you. But instead of aiming for his lips, you turn his head and whisper in his ear. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

Jisung grins, grabs your hand and pins it against the mattress. He leans in towards your ear now. “I hope you know what you’re asking for.”

Before you can answer, he flips you on your stomach, and you gasp in surprise. He rubs your ass gently, pushing your thighs with his warm hands.

“Arch that back for me, baby.”

Jisung spreads your legs once you are in position, and you feel his breath against your aching cunt. You’re soaked, your swollen clit begging to be touched. You hear him hum in appreciation.

“What a beauty,” he says. “All wet for me.”

He slides a finger across your wetness, and you close your eyes to bask in the sensation. Jisung plays with you, his fingers tracing patterns, circling your clit. You breathe hard, shivering against his touch. He inserts a finger inside of you, and then two.

“Taking me so well,” he growls. “I’m going to stretch your beautiful cunt. It belongs to me now…”

“Jisung, please…”

“What is it, baby?”

“Make me cum, please, I’m begging you…”

Jisung moves his fingers inside of you, curving them upwards, drawing a loud moan from your lips. “Like this, baby?”

“F-fuck, yes…”

He starts to finger you relentlessly, building your orgasm quickly - your breathing accelerates, your folds throbbing, and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, Jisung pushes his tongue against your folds, licking you, drinking your in. The combination with his fingers is almost too much to handle, and you cum in a flash, your body shivering.

“Yes, baby,” he moans. “Keep cumming, come on…”

He doesn’t stop fingering and licking you, giving you a long, intense orgasm. You can feel your juices overflowing, drenching his fingers and his chin, and when your body relaxes, and he slows down, you’ve made a mess.

Jisung hums, and you hear him lick his fingers clean. “Next time I’m going to make you squirt,” he tells you. “I know I can do it. And I’ll lick you clean, baby.”

You shudder, but you sit up, twisting your body so you can steal a kiss from him. His lips taste like you, his cock pushing against your ass, and you lower a hand to palm him.

“Are you going to put that big cock inside of me, huh?” you tease him, jerking him. “I want him so much.”

“My baby, so desperate for me,” he growls, and he takes your arms, pinning them on your back and pushing you back on the bed. “Don’t move.”

You obey him as he takes a condom from his bedside table, wraps it around his cock, and then places it against your entrance.

“Why did we never fuck before?” he suddenly asks, pushing the tip of his cock inside of you. “It’s like you’re made for me, baby.”

You can barely think as he slowly enters you. “I don’t know, Ji. I can’t think…” You gasp as he suddenly bottoms out, filling you whole, stretching your walls. It doesn’t hurt, though.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunts, grabbing your wrists to hold them in place. He leans over you, pushing you more into the mattress, and starts to fuck you.

The sound of his hips smacking your ass, your wet cunt sucking him in, your moans and his heavy breathing fill the bedroom. If someone is in the apartment there is no doubt as to what you are doing, but you don’t care. Jisung is making you lose your grasp on reality, and you can hardly believe that hours before you were stressing out over a kiss. This felt right. Your heart swells in your chest, because as he pounds into you, you feel like you’ve found your person.

“You hear that? God, your cunt is soaking my dick. Fuck, that’s so hot.”

“I’m going to cum, fuck, fuck fuck!”

He accelerates his thrusts and pushes you into the mattress so he can go deeper, and you cum for a second time, your legs shaking as you do, and Jisung lets out a guttural grunt.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna -”

“Cum for me, Ji, please…”

He slams into you as his cock twitches, and he removes himself just in time to take off the condom. You feel spurts of white on your ass and back, Jisung covering you as he breathes hard and fast. You’re still coming down from your own orgasm, drunk on the scent, sound, and feel of him.

“Don’t move,” he says after a few seconds.

You feel him clean your skin with a t-shirt, and he guides you back on the mattress. You lay down, your legs and cunt sore, and take a look at Jisung through half-closed eyes. His hair is a mess, his eyes glassy from the orgasm, and he looks more attractive than you’ve ever seen him.

You whimper, grabbing his arm. “Kiss,” you plead.

He chuckles as you press your lips to his. He kisses you tenderly, stroking your hair, snuggling next to you. Slowly, he draws the covers of the bed from under you to cover your bodies, keeping you close. You stay in his arms, sleepy but peaceful, your smile unable to go away.

Jisung places a kiss on your shoulder. “Sleep a little, baby, yeah?” he whispers in your ear. “Then I’ll wake you up for another round.”

You just nod.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

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