#tbh tech x you

[nahoney22]

Hi, thanks for sharing my @techtalksfics yesterday, I fangirled a little hard because I love your writing so much 🙈🤍

If you have the time to do The 'You look absolutely irresistible right now' prompt with Tech that would be so amazing

Prompt List Celebration 3000 Followers

Tech X F!Reader

word count: 2k words

SFW

Prompt:

“You look absolutely irresistible right now.”

warnings: I went with fluff for this one because I thought the idea with this prompt was cute! So mainly fluff, hints of jealous Tech, reader has to be flirty for the mission, mutual pining, friends to lovers, reader is female and is wearing a gown. Not proofread.

Authors note: absolutely loved your fic! So hope you enjoy this one for you 💜 @adigressivedullard @techtalksfics (check out their work!)

Your nerves were palpable, no denying that. This was a mission you had never embarked on solo, and Cid had requested an attractive female to complete it, leaving you as the default choice. The weight of the task at hand seemed to settle heavily on your shoulders.

As Wrecker handed you your heels, purchased just an hour ago, you grumbled, "I don't know about this." Despite his reassuring words, you couldn't shake the unease in your gut. You put on your long sleeved gloves, trying to smooth out the wrinkles on your dress as you stood, feeling awkward and out of place.

"Why does the target have to have a thing for fancy parties?" You muttered miserably, but Hunter quickly answered,

"Because he has a thing for attractive ladies, and that's your chance to get closer and swipe his data." He scanned you from head to toe, his expression pleased with your appearance. "You look nice," he said with a smile.

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool, but the truth was, being complimented by the boys felt great. You couldn't help but feel a little bit special. "I look silly," you replied, trying to downplay the compliments.

"You're only saying that because you're not used to it," Hunter said, folding his arms across his chest. "Want to run over the plan again?"

The thought of going over the plan made your stomach churn, so you quickly declined, "Nah, I think if I think too much about it I'll be sick. I should be fine though." You clutched your bag tightly, which contained everything you needed - a small blaster, earpiece, and a data collector.

Crosshair and Echo joined you, showering you with compliments and reassurances, but it was Tech's words that you yearned to hear the most. When he finally approached, buried in his datapad and relaying the briefing, every word made your heart race, not just because you were nervous, but because Tech was talking to you.

"If you can get the target to head into his office, the data should be in a stronghold box under his desk. If you can't find it, comm us, and we'll try to guide you." Your doubts about the mission's success began to creep in, and you asked, "What if it doesn't work, and he doesn't give me a second glance?"

Tech finally looked up at you, and his pupils dilated, making him feel as though his heart had momentarily stopped. "You look absolutely irresistible right now," he said, almost absentmindedly. His words left you stunned and his brothers wide-eyed, and it took Tech 2.75 seconds to realize what he had said.

A rush of blood flooded his cheeks as he added, "W-which is what is needed to pull off this mission." The compliment, though accidental, sent your heart fluttering.

The ship grew silent really quick as yourself and Tech stared across at each other, the others eyes flickering between the pair. The awkward silence is then broken when Omega comes bounding.

“Are we ready- why’s everyone so quiet?”

Suddenly it was like life was sucked into the room again and you cleared your throat, looking away from Tech despite being very flustered still.

“Yep! Let’s get this over with.”

—————————-

The mission was a resounding triumph, but for Tech, every moment was a trial. With the rest of the Batch, he had successfully hacked into the security systems of the building you entered, granting them the ability to monitor your movements and eavesdrop on your conversations.

As expected, particularly by Tech, you smoothly infiltrated the target's office. As he observed from behind a monitor, his jaw tightened with tension.

The man was engaging in flirtatious, slimy banter with you, and it was only natural that you would reciprocate (for the sake of the mission). Jealousy gnawed at him, a feeling he never imagined he would experience for someone, but he detested every second of this mission. If there had been any other option, he would have proposed it, but instead, he was forced to witness the object of his affection for months being pursued while donning the most opulent and ostentatious attire. He always believed you were a vision of beauty, no matter what you wore. But when he saw you in that moment in that gown, he was nearly, for the first time, struck dumb.

He winced inwardly at the slip of his tongue from before, the compliment being an accidental in his part but not at all false. You were indeed bewitching, a fact that was becoming evident as you and the others now celebrated at Cid's, clinking glasses and toasting to a job well done.

You're seated at one of the dingy booths in Cid’s bar, leisurely clinking glasses with Bolo and Ketch, when you cast your gaze upward to find Tech glancing over his shoulder in your direction, sat alone at the bar. Your heart starts pounding like a war drum in your chest, and you can only imagine why he was sitting by himself and not with you guys

“Go talk to him,” Crosshair prods you from the side, his arms firmly folded across his chest, a toothpick tucked between his lips.

You purse your lips, torn. “What if he was only being polite, trying to put me at ease about the mission?”

Crosshair removes the toothpick from his lips and tosses it onto the already cluttered floor, a staple at Cid’s. “Or, you could take a chance that he likes you back,” he adds, his tone both stern and encouraging.

You hadn’t upfront told Crosshair your feelings for Tech, he just assumed as he caught you ‘dreamily gawping’ as he said, at Tech.

“I don't know,” you murmur, still uncertain.

“Just do it.” He grunts, rolling his eyes with his tone stern but you knew it was just to push you in the right direction.

For a splash of luck, you take a fortifying gulp from your drink and stand, your palms sweating so you wipe them on your pants which you changed into after the mission.

Tech sits lost in thought, swirling the contents of his drink and staring intently at his datapad, when he hears a shuffling beside him. He looks up, struggling to contain his surprise at seeing you there.

“Hi Tech.” You greet softly, smiling over at him.

“Hello.” His reply is rather strained, his head instantly whipping down to look at his device again, breathing a little ragged.

You strum your fingers against the bar and ever so gently nudge his shoulder with your own. “You not going to make me one of your famous drinks tonight?”

Little did people know, Tech was quite the mixologist on the quiet. You learned this when it was just you and him at Cid’s and you watched him making some kind of concoction of drink. After he slid it over to you and had a taste, you were hooked and thus made you like him just a tiny bit more since he always made you a drink, without even asking.

“What would you like?” He asks, tilting his head to look at you before standing and moving round the side of the bar, grabbing a cup ready.

You hum teasingly, tapping your fingers against your chin as if to show in deep thought. “How about my usual?”

He smiles lightly, rather pleased that you didn’t seem embarrassed or put off by what he said prior. Although, it lingered on both of your minds. “Coming right up.”

You watch him at work but smile sadly as you see him fumble a few times, clearly his headspace is elsewhere. “So, what crazy mission do you think Cid will have us do next?”

“Hopefully one that pays well enough for us to move somewhere else.” His tone was a little off.

“Do you not like it here?”

“Let me correct myself,” he says, popping a straw in your drink before sliding it over, “I do not like doing missions for Cid.”

You hum in somewhat agreement and take a sip of your drink, sighing in delight after a long day. “Even today's mission?”

He blinks at you, drying slightly damp hands on a small towel. “Especially today.”

“Oh.” You’re taken aback at his bluntness, instantly fearing that you did something wrong. “Because of me?”

He didn’t need to be Hunter to sense your uneasiness and instantly gave you an apologetic glance. “You performed well and got the mission done. However I would have rather had someone go with you in case things got complicated.”

“But it didn’t?”

He nods. “I acknowledge that but like I said, I wish someone would have been there with you when the target was almost putting his hands on you.”

He goes off on a little bit of a tangent and the realisation struck you. Or so, you hoped what you were thinking was right. “Tech, were you jealous?”

He stilled, a flicker of surprise crossing his features as you caught him off guard once again. “Admittedly, yes.”

You wet your lips, eager to delve deeper into his admission. “May I ask why?”

He scrutinised your face, noticing its softness, and couldn't help but observe as you moistened your lips delicately. Clearing his throat, he began, “I did some research on the concept of jealousy and discovered it stems from a fear or concern over losing what one possesses. I don't claim to possess you nor would I ever want you to think that, but I cannot deny that the thought of hearing and seeing you engage in flirtation with another man...it caused me pain.”

You’re completely shocked by his words but stay silent, letting him continue. “Initially I knew you would be the perfect candidate for the mission but I was not aware you could possess a power that makes me breathless just by the sight of you. Which is often. In conclusion, I can only imagine that the target felt the same as I did.”

Tech pushes up his goggles up his nose, eyes trained on you to gauge your reaction to what he was saying but you remain unreadable.

“And when I mentioned you being irresistible, I meant every word. You are irresistible, again and again.”

You spoke his name softly, feeling as though your insides were turning to liquid as you basked in his words. “Are you saying you have feelings for me?”

He stands a little taller, chest puffed out as he braces himself for whatever your reaction may be. "’Feelings’ is a weak term. I love you, to be more precise.”

Now you're rendered speechless. A grin spreads across your face as you melted inside at his words. “I...I love you too, Tech,” you whispered, not wanting anyone else to overhear this intimate moment between you two. “I just didn't think you felt the same.”

He cocked his head, trying to contain the explosion of emotions inside of him as you voiced his greatest desire - your love for him. “Did I not make my intentions clear?”

“No,” you shake your head with a laugh, “of course not.”

“Oh.” He responds, unsure what to do now at this moment in time after confessing his love for you. “I am unsure what the next approach is. I would ask you if you’d like a drink but that is something I already have taken care of.”

You think for a moment and after today, you felt like you were on a winning streak anyway. So, why not top it off?

“We could seal it with a kiss, if you’d like?”

You watch him as his eyes slowly get comically wider at your bold suggestion but not once was he going to refuse. “I would like that very much.” He replies, voice a little husky.

He leans forward a little, as did you, both leaning over the bar until your lips touch in a sweet and tender moment. Your heart skips a beat and you sigh softly against his firm yet soft lips as he lets the kiss linger for a moment before he pulls back, cheeks ablaze.

“Tech?”

“Hm?” He asks with hooded eyes, still reeling from the revelation.

“I think you’re pretty irresistible too.”

Masterlist

tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @theroguesully @equalityforcats @mustluvecho @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone e @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari i @autumnleaves1991-blog @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @agenteliix @rintheemolion @kaminocasey @hotpinkplastoid @cosmic-persephone @imalovernotahater @swiftiexstarwarssimp @the-good-shittt @whore4rex @photogirl894 @s1st3r @taskfork-archive @by-the-primes

[starrylothcat]

Don’t know if you’re taking requests so disregard otherwise BUT… from your recent prompt reblogs, I’m loving:

“you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me” writer’s choice on the clone hehehe you know I’m just obsessed with your work-Alex🫶⭐️💙

Taken

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader

WC: ~900

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Possessive Tech. PiV sex. Fem receiving cunnilingus. Established relationship. Tech being a lil dom? Jealous? Sexy?

A/N: ALEX! HI and THANK YOU FOR THIS PROMPT! Tech immediately came to mind. I have no excuse. Thank you so much for this. I hope you like this lil’ treat!

Smut Prompts

When Tech appeared behind you at the bar, his hand sneaking around your waist, you knew you were done for.

“She is taken.” Tech’s voice was low, almost lethal to the two men who approached you at the bar as you ordered drinks for you and Tech.

There was something in his voice that pooled desire between your legs, a possessive tone that you’d never heard before, and you already knew you wanted more of.

His grip tightened around your waist, standing up straighter as the two men rolled their eyes, before slinking away.

You turned to look up at Tech, who was staring down at you, something hungry flashing behind his goggles.

Before you could speak, you were whisked into a cramped supply closet, your pants pulled down to your ankles and Tech’s mouth and hands encompassing your entire being.

“You are mine...” Tech murmured against your stomach, his kisses trailing lower as he knelt before you. Tech hauled you up on a crate, giving himself better access to where you were so desperate.

Tech hooked his fingers under your panties, tugging them down to your thighs. You broadened your legs, giving him a better view of what lay between. You watched his eyes widen slightly under his goggles, studying your glistening pussy that was spread before him.

“…and I take care of what belongs to me,” Tech smirked as he buried his face in your pussy, a cry leaving your lips, your hands flying to grasp his hair.

His tongue instantly went to practiced work, knowing exactly what made you mewl and writhe in delight. Tech gripped your thighs, his dominating mood making you even more wet between your legs.

Tech let out a soft moan as he flicked his tongue at your clit, watching you for your reaction, which was immediate. You gasped his name, clutching his head even tighter, rocking your hips against his face to chase your release.

“You always taste so divine, darling.”

Tech mumbled into your soft folds, switching between fucking you with his tongue and swirling around your swollen nerve.

“A taste only I have the privilege of savoring.”

You could barely register his husky praise, pleasure building in your lower abdomen.

Tech now had one hand pinning you down, keeping you still as he focused solely on your clit. “Mine…” He murmured. “All mine. Come for me, darling.”

Tech watched as all the muscles in your body tensed, your legs shaking around his shoulders, ecstasy exploding in every nerve in your body. Your climax hit you like a tidal wave, pleasure washing over you with each pass of his tongue. Tech pressed a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, gasping into his palm in bliss.

Tech drank every drop you gave him, not wanting to leave a mess behind.

He lifted his head, eyelids hooded, his face shiny with your release. His lips were on yours in an instant, his tongue exploring your mouth, sharing your juices with you. Tech rocked his hips into yours, feeling his hard cock against your thigh under his pants.

“I’m yours, Tech.” You gasped between kisses. “Always. Always yours.”

“I have never doubted it.” Tech whispered, pulling away momentarily to tug down his pants, lining himself up with your entrance.

He slid in slowly, inch by inch, both of you savoring the feeling of him filling you and your silky walls gliding against his cock.

Tech bottomed out into you, his body shuddering.

“I didn’t realize you…” You gasped, “had a jealous streak.”

Tech smirked, pushing himself as deep as possible into you, hitting that spot that made your vision go fuzzy.

“It is expected that other men would want to proposition you, ” He nipped at your neck, pulling out slowly and gliding back in. “Due to your pleasing appearance and personality.”

You couldn’t help but blush at his compliment, which was silly considering he was fucking you senseless in a dusty closet.

“Though I do have to admit…knowing that only I have the honor of hearing your alluring sounds and feeling your perfect body…”

Tech increased his pace, sweat forming at his temples, his moans becoming harder to keep quiet, as he pounded into you.

“It makes me want to claim you even more.” He panted in your ear, nudging a finger to your clit.

Another orgasm crashed over you, biting your lip to stifle your cries as Tech’s hips stuttered, feeling you clench and flutter around him as you came. Tech groaned, thrusting in one last time before spilling inside you, truly marking you as his.

Tech pressed his lips to your neck, slowly pulling out of you. He reached into one of his many pockets, pulling out cloth to help clean you up.

“Holy kriff, Tech.” You half-whispered, half-laughed, slightly delirious from the intense fucking. “That was-“

“Was it too much?” Tech looked sheepish, bringing a hand to your cheek. “I am not sure what came over me-“

You shook your head, placing your hand over his.

“It was hot.”

Even in the dimly lit closet, you could see his cheeks darken.

“I am glad it was enjoyable.” Tech touched his forehead to yours. “Though I am not quite finished.” That husky tone returned, his arm snaking around your waist, bringing you close to him.

He brought his lips to your ear, whispering dirty promises of what he still wanted to do to you when you were back on The Marauder.

You shook against him, feeling his fingers dance under your shirt, goosebumps following in their wake.

“I am not done taking care of you. Not yet.”

Ye Olde Taglist: @crosshairlovebot @sev-on-kamino @kimiheartblade @wizardofrozz @clonemedickix @sunshinesdaydream @kashasenpai @freesia-writes @multi-fan-dom-madness @aconstructofamind @dreamie411 @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @starqueensthings @idontgetanysleep @secretthegriffin @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @secondaryrealm @littlemissmanga @coraex @maybethatfanfictionwriter @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @sleepingsun501 @cw80831 @dangraccoon @din-miller @mythical-illustrator

Dividers by @dystopicjumpsuit

[officialdaydreamer00]

so...

irene in hunter x hunter universe anyone?

pros:

biggest chance to expand her magic capability and potentials

collecting powerful children like pokemons, bonus points for cuteness

i get the opportunity to write more irene lore :)

fluffy moments of irene and her adopted children :D

explosions go boom

cons:

explosions go boom

irene goes boom

the world goes boom, but it'd be funny :)

we'd have an extra traumatised and emotionally suppressed irene somewhere in her character development arc

chances of irene overblotting and proceeds to drown said world in literal darkness

[a-lil-perspective]

My God. I just (finally) watched the newest Bad Batch episode. What the hell is going on with Tech fans.😂😂

[nthflower]

I would accept joining X-Men I think because like how bad it can be? Yeah deadly robots but we are living in a mansion with teleporters and healers and people who grows food from their asses like no life problems??? Except mutant hate of course but cmon it's just adds giant murderbots if you are already some kind of minority. I can even stand Xavier and tolerate him I think. I would be always in background and have a sick design so they would not kill me but never make main focus and I will always be there alive drama free.

[sylvia-plaths-fig-pie]

I want to write again for Sam so bad, I have a plot outline and eveything but I simply don't have the time rip

Teach Me ♡ Sam Winchester

Pairing: Sam winchester x reader

Wc: didn't check but it's not too long

Tw: not proof read, no use of y/n, slightly suggestive if you squint ig, mentions of cannon typical violence but not really

Summary: Sam hears you playing piano (listen to the song i imaged bellow), you're so at peace (so beautiful) that he can't help but utter the words "teach me" and that's exactly what you do.

♡♡♡♡♡

For once you Sam and Dean were actually staying in a nice hotel. Yep a hotel not a motel. It was appart of the ruse to be fancy business people, and that included staying in a nice hotel.

While the case was tough and you all had many sleepless nights it turned out to be a simple salt and burn and the ghost was gone.

And that lead you to now, standing in the hotel lobby looking at the beautiful grand piano in front of you.

You used to play piano as a child, your one constant throught the hectic hunting lifestyle growing up was piano, but it had been years since you last actually played. But how you longed to play once more.

That's why you found your self sitting at the stool, your hands tracing the keys as you thought of what to play.

You settled on your favorite 'easy' tune, one that you knew you would never forget; a piano cover of this is love.

And so you played.

And played.

And played.

You were at peace for the first time in a long time. It felt right.

Maybe in another life, if you weren't a hunter, you could have been a professional pianists. If you had proper training, and the time, and a piano all to your self. Yet it wasn't ment to be.

Sometimes you just wanted to leave this life forever, chase your dreams, maybe be a music teacher, have a family or something? That's what normal people do, right?

But you couldn't, or rather you wouldn't, you couldn't leave the Winchesters. Or at least you couldn't leave one spefic Winchester. Of course you cared for Dean as though he was your own older brother, but Sam... you couldn't imagine a life without him. You would do anything for that boy, it terrified you, and yet you stuck by him through everything regardless of the pit in your stomach everytime he was in danger, or the ache in your heart when he looked at you.

Dean made fun of you constantly, always teasing about your sight 'crush' on his brother. He always said Sam felt the same, but you knew that wasn't the case. So you had to settle for looking out for him from afar, being too scared to say anything to make it awkward.

So you played.

And played.

And played.

"Teach me."

You look up from the piano in front of you, coming out of what felt like a trance.

"Teach me." Sam said again, sitting beside you on the tiny piano stool. It clearly wasn't ment for two people to sit on, yet there he was, all 6"4 of him, perched beside you.

You studied him for a second, unsure as to whether he really ment his words or not. It appeared that he actually was in earnest.

At first you wanted to say no. Not because you didn't want to teach him, the opposite really. You didn't know whether you would be able to keep your composure if you had to hold and move Sam's hand in order to teach him.

Just as you were about to come up with some excuse you made the mistake of looking him in the eyes. His eyes, that were already trained on yours, were embodying his 'puppy dog' eyes as you and Dean coined them. Eyes that melted your heart and made it impossible to say no.

"Fine." You rolled your eyes and sighed at Sam, looking away from him. 'Don't make a fool of yourself' you heard yourself saying in your head.

You were just teaching him how to play piano, Sam's a curious guy, there is nothing more to it, no lingering feelings or longing stares (well from him anyways). You were just being a good friend.

That's what you and Sam are. Friends.

"I'll teach you happy birthday since its almost Dean's..." you trailed of catching a glimps of Sam's wide smile from the corner of your eye. "So you need to put your thumb on C."

He didn't move.

You looked at him in the eyes now, raising an eyebrow. First he asks you to teach him, but now he isn't following the very first instructions? You were confused untill-

"I don't know why your looking at me, I don't know which one C is." Sam laughed.

Shit. You'd forgotten about that.

"Oh sorry," you mumbled awkwardly, "it's the one before the two black notes, can I?" You gestured to his hand, signalling to Sam that you wanted to place it in the correct place your self.

"Sure go right ahead," you pretended not to notice his smile growing even wider as you took his hand and rested it in the correct position on top of the piano. Surely his reaction was just in your head, right?

"Wait, I'll put my hand on yours and I'll tap what fingers you need to play the notes, does that make sense." Your explanation was convoluted but Sam just nodded giving you the green light.

You moved to rest your hand on top of his, leaning into him so that your right hand was atop of his right hand.

Blush crept up your neck, you prayed Sam didn't notice. Judging by how focused he was on your hand ontop of his hand, he seemed not to notice.

"Ready?" You questioned.

"Go easy with ne now," he joked, "it's my first time."

"Shut it winchester." You laughed. You loved it when Sam was sassy, he knew it too.

Gently you began to tap his fingers so he played the correct notes.

C C D C F E

C C D C F E

*click*

The sound of a camera stop you, spinning round to see what the source of the noise was.

Dean was stood beside the piano with a with eating grin on his face. "Cheese," he said sarcastically as he pocked his phone.

"Dean what are you-?" You began to ask but he cut you off.

"I'm going to show it to everyone on your guys' wedding day" he said nonchalantly, smirking.

"But we're not-"

"Sam and I aren't-"

"Why would you-?"

"That's so weird to say-"

You and Sam both began talking at the same time. Each of you growing extremely red. Your hands still on top of one another's.

"You both need to cut the bullshit!" He cried shaking his head. And with that Dean turned and left before calling down the hallway, "I'm going to the bar to get drunk, you better have confessed some feelings when I'm back cos I'm suck of hearing you mope about one another to me!"

You and Sam stared at eachother.

Silence.

You wanted to scream, or cry, or run away, just something. But you didn't know what to do. Even if you did, you were frozen. You just stared at Sam, eyes wide, shocked at Dean's outburst.

"Dean's right."

"what...?"

What!?!?

"My whole life I've always wanted to find my person you know." Sams eyes were facing down at the piano key's unable to meet yours. "And I thought I found people in the past, but all of them... well you know what happened."

Did Sam know about your silly crush? Did Dean tell him? You were going to kill him.

Or did he mean.... no he couldn't, could he? Could Sam really reciprocate your feelings. You swalled down the thought, not wanting to get your hopes high for nothing.

That's when Sam began to speak once again.

Of course you knew what happened. He'd told you in a moment of vulnerability in one of the first nights that to spent all night talking while researching a case. You knew eachother inside and out. You knew eachother darkest and deepest secrets. You knew eveything about eachother.

"And since then I've been so scared," he continued, "scared that if I got close to anyone that they would end up the same. Then you happened. We met you on a hunt and you've stuck with us ever since and I kept being drawn to you, and I hated myself for it. I wanted to keep you far away to protect you, but the more I wanted to protect you the more I wanted to..."

He trailed off and took in a large intake of breath, lifting his eyes with determination to meet yours.

"The more I wanted to be closer to you, the more I wanted to hold you to be there for you.. to kiss you." His eyes momentarily flicking down to your lips, your breath hitched.

"The more I relised I was in love with you, that I am in love with you." He flipped his hand so that he was now holding yours, lacing his fingers between yours. You didn't speak, you knew he had more to say and you were more that happy to listen. Your brain was going a hundred miles an hour, Sam's words were simultaneously grounding you and making your brain go into overdrive, but his hand holding yours assured you that this was real. This moment is real. It's real.

"So I talked to Dean about it, about you, alot and I've finally stopped fighting it. I know you can take care of yourself, and I know your not afraid of the risks of this job, the risks of being near me, as you've lived through so many horrors with me, you were by my side though everything and I don't think I can go on any longer without you knowing, I could never forgive myself for letting you get away..." He stopped speaking, he said what he wanted to. It was your turn to speak now. Yet you couldn't find the words, they all seemed lodged in your throat. You wanted to say it back but you couldn't, all you could do was look at Sam, your eyes wide.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't-" Sam began, trying to make you feel comfortable, he was worried you didn't feel the same. He wasn't aware that it was complete opposite reason as to why you couldn't speak. But you cut him off with a new found confidence.

"I swear to god Sam if you don't kiss me right now." You pleaded, avoiding his eyes.

A moment passed. Then you felt his hand leave yours. Panic surged through you. Oh god what had you done?

Then his hands were on your face and his lips found yours. You closed your eyes falling deeper and deeper into him, you were intoxicated, you couldn't get enough. His lips were rough and soft, neddy and patient all at the same time. It was so much, it would be too much, but it wasn't, it was perfect.

It felt like you and Sam were the only two people in the world. It felt right. All the horrors of life, all the monsters, demons, angels, eveything, none of it mattered in that moment. Nothing but the two of you existed in that moment.

And then all too soon he pulled away.

"I'm assuming you feel the same way?" He asked almost bashfully, redness creeping up his neck.

"Sam winchester, I love you and all your dorky-ness," you dramatically declared as Sam rolled his eyes, "and i-"

You were cut off by his lips finding yours once again. You were just where you wanted to be and for once the world seemed right, or at least it seemed okay with same by your side, or more accurately Sam's lips on yours.

"FINNALLY!"

You and Sam jumped away from one another, startled by a loud cry.

Dean was stood at the bottom of the corridor, his arms raised in the air in a sort of celebration.

"TOOK YOU BOTH LONG ENOUGH!"

You and Sam just looked and eachother and began to laugh.

"I guess he does have a point..." you commented between laughter.

"Yeah I guess that means we have to make up for lost time." He laughed, resting his hands in your hair.

"What do you mean?" You asked, playing along, ot was much more fun this way.

"Well I suppose I can think of a few things..." he trailed of suggestively, "what do you say?"

You smiled at him knowing exactly what he ment, and couldn't help but reply with what lead to this moment.

"Teach me."

[luludeluluramblings]

tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:

damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.

reader: i am pregnant though

the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part Two

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.

A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.

A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.

A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.

In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.

It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.

You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.

The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.

The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.

When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.

But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.

After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.

This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.

The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.

It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.

What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.

But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.

And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.

Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.

“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.

You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.

Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.

Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.

The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.

Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.

Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.

It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.

Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.

“Do you— um, want something else?”

It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.

“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.

It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.

“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.

You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”

Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”

The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.

“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.

“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.

As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.

When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.

Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.

"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."

"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"

And, just like that your mood shifts.

"No."

"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.

"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."

That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"

"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.

"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.

"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.

"He doesn't ignore you-"

"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."

Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.

"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."

"Really?! That's all I had to do?"

"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"

"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"

You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.

"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.

"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.

"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."

"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."

"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.

"Now, that's offenseive."

"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."

"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."

The banter between you both coming back with ease.

When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.

As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.

Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.

"You okay, Steph?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?

A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.

A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.

A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.

[reiderwriter]

Flirting with the FBI

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word count: 7.1k

Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???

Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.

A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭

Masterlist

You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.

If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.

Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.

You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.

You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.

“There once was a serial killer,

Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,

He cut, diced and slashed,

Left the feds quite abashed,

So I leave this message to be clearer”

The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.

You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.

You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.

None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.

And you really wanted to listen in.

The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.

Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.

A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.

With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.

“There once was a bullpen full of agents,

Who thought they were very surveillant,

But a simply code crack,

And there system did hack,

A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”

This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.

The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.

Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.

He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.

Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.

“The tall, dark and handsome employee,

How I do wish that he could enjoy me,

I would gladly submit,

we match wit for wit,

But he's trying his best to arrest me.”

The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”

The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.

You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.

A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.

After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.

By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.

So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.

“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,

I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,

the killer, you see,

Is right now hunting me,

You're the ones who can do better tracking.”

You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.

That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.

You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,

Who I simply and truly just need,

I would lie on my back,

And then let him attack,

Any inch of my body with his seed.”

He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.

Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.

You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.

He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.

This latest limerick was his last straw.

“The cameras are how I can see you,

I do find myself enjoying the view,

His hair is so fine,

I wish he was mine,

The agent with more PhDs than two.”

“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.

“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”

“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”

“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”

They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.

“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.

“The agents grew closer by day,

As the killer wanted to escape,

He paced across the floor,

As I watched by his door,

Getting closer than the agents could say.”

He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.

“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”

“Officer Falstaff, why?”

“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.

“Spencer, wait-”

“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”

Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.

“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.

“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”

“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”

Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.

“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”

His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”

“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”

“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”

The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.

The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.

Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.

Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.

The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.

“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.

A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.

The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.

You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.

“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,

Working with you has been like a dream,

When Reid comes it is wet,

And my mind is all set,

Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”

The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.

“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.

“When you find me there's lots for me to say,

I can't help simply feeling this way,

Your profile I read,

Can't believe you're a Fed,

I yearn for you all night and day.”

Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.

He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.

You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.

“The Doctor had finally cracked it,

The only identity that could fit,

The pretty young thing,

Who'd been flirting with him,

And was thinking of sitting on his…”

You sent a second message along with the first.

“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”

The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.

xxx

So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.

You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.

Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.

You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.

He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.

He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.

“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”

Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.

“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”

“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”

“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.

“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.

“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”

“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”

“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”

“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”

He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.

“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.

“As much as anyone does.”

“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.

“What do you think, Doc?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.

“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.

“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.

“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”

“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”

For the first time in a while, you were speechless.

“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”

“Why, Y/N?”

You sighed and looked back up at him.

“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.

“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.

“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”

He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.

“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”

“You want to sleep with me?”

His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.

“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”

To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.

“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”

You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.

“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.

“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”

You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.

“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”

Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.

“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”

“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”

The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.

A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.

“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.

You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.

“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.

“No, you don't.”

“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”

“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”

“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”

“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”

He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.

“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”

He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.

“Can we keep this serious, please?”

“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”

“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.

“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.

“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”

Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.

“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”

“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”

“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”

“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”

You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.

He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.

It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.

“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”

“I'm driving you home.”

“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”

“What about friends?”

“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”

His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.

“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”

“What?”

“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.

“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”

“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.

“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.

“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.

He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.

The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.

“Spencer!”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”

“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”

You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.

“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.

“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”

The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.

He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.

“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.

“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”

“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”

He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.

“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.

“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”

“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.

It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.

When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.

“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.

“And let you touch my things? No.”

You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.

“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.

“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.

“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.

“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”

You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.

He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.

You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.

“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”

“What's the difference?”

“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."

"And what would that be?"

"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”

“Brat,” he spat at you.

“Fed,” you spat back.

“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.

“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.

“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”

His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.

“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”

You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.

“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”

“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.

“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”

With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.

The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.

His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.

“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.

With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.

“Fuck, Spencer-”

“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”

“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.

“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.

“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”

“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.

“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.

Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.

“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”

His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.

“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”

“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.

“Say it.”

“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”

“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.

“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.

“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.

Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.

Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.

They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.

“Who I simply and truly just need.”

He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.

“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”

A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.

“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”

His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.

He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.

“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.

You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.

You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.

He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.

If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.

He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.

Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.

When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.

“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.

“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”

“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.

Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.

When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.

He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.

“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”

[determunition]

i took the switcheroo week as an excuse to finally try my hand at some scrybeswap designs! got a bit carried away as you can see, i love doing character design so much

decided to keep their species/major design elements fairly consistent (e.g. grimora's makeup, mag being vague and indistinct, leshy having nonhuman legs, p03 only having one arm) while still switching up their aesthetics as needed; super happy with all of these as a result!

design notes for each scrybe under the cut! def open to any further questions or curiosities, i always think way too hard about characters while designing them lmao

P03:

scrybe of the dead: i went for a possessed tv vibe; he's still mechanical but those bones do have a living soul trapped in them...also shoutout to @squid-hug for suggesting the x-ray machine, i was very tickled by that lmao

scrybe of beasts: overgrown old bot was kind of a given for this one, but i was also thinking that the plants are part of what's keeping him running somehow

scrybe of magicks: the magic eye is the core powering that top monitor, and the two side monitors display what he's seeing with that eye at any given time

grimora:

scrybe of beasts: she's a witch! like a chill terry pratchett kind of witch, she works with a lot of herbs and such; also her makeup is meant to mimic blood drops

scrybe of magicks: magick grimora is more of a warlock type, her magic is a lot more sinister and she almost never opens her eyes (whereas her third eye is basically always open)

scrybe of tech: tech grimora is kind of a wacky machinist-flavored dr. frankenstein; she inscribes by writing on circuitboards!

leshy:

scrybe of the dead: this leshy is a gargoyle/vampire hybrid! i thought a mirror would be fun for him bc you can get two different cultural refs; medusa (bc stone gargoyle), and the idea that vampires don't appear in mirrors!

scrybe of magicks: i decided to make him a bird guy (kinda harpy-esque) bc he's basically a more whimsical baba yaga hermit; the baba yaga thing carries over from slavic folklore obvs. also he has polycoria!

scrybe of tech: tech leshy was super fun, bc he's steampunk! rather than animal legs i gave him digitigrade robot legs, but other than that he's the most like, normal human guy here probably lmao; despite his well-adjusted appearance though i still think he's got a bit of freaky wonk in him

magnificus:

scrybe of the dead: this one was very ring-inspired lol, got those clump of hair you found in the shower drain vibes

scrybe of beasts: bush magnificus real! i think he'd be a bit more quirky trickster fae in this form

scrybe of tech: one of my favorites; tech mag is an emaciated cyborg draped in so many loose cords and wires that you can't tell what he looks like anymore. a lot of those cords are connected to him, and he plugs them in wherever as needed! he also has a drawing stylus, making him just an average art student tbh lmao

[evansbby]

⭒✮▹𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: older husband!Ari Levinson x naive wife!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: daddy!kink, smutt, dd/lg vibes, pregnancy!kink, breeding!kink, housewife!kink, lactation!kink, size difference,  age gap, innocence!kink, naive reader, 18+ only, minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Ari finally comes home to his very pregnant wife.

𝐀/𝐍: I’m just surprised I didn’t write this sooner tbh. Enjoy!

“Honey, I’m home!”

Your husband’s booming voice echoes around the house, sending thrills up and down your spine. You feel a huge smile plaster itself on your face – despite the fact that you’ve been married to him for almost a year now, you still feel giddy like a little girl every time you hear him come home. You carefully set down the casserole that has just finished cooking, impatiently shaking your oven mitts off before making a beeline to the front door and launching yourself at your big, beefy husband.

“Ari!” You hug him hard, pressing your nose into his hard chest that smells so deliciously like him. Like fresh soap and his manly musk with a hint of salty seawater. Just him. And you can’t help but breath him in, trying your best to climb up his body and wrap your legs around his waist, which is obviously a hard task considering how big your belly has gotten. “Missed you so much,” you mumble against his solid body, loving the feel of his warm arms enveloping you into his embrace. You wish he’d hug you harder, completely crush your body against his like how he used to. Till you can’t breathe but in the best possible way.

But of course, he’s ten times more mindful of you now. Pregnancy and all.

“Baby,” Ari breathes, burying his nose in your hair and nuzzling the top of your head. He presses a bunch of kisses against your hairline, one hand already on your belly (its favourite place to be, as of late), stroking it softly while his other hand meanders down to your ass (his other favourite part of your body). “Mm, I missed you too, sweet girl. Missed your little body against me like this.”

He cups your face, tipping it upwards and lifting you slightly so he can plant a kiss to your lips. He was just so damn tall and big – kissing was a bit of a problem unless he bent down or picked you up. You didn’t mind, though. You loved how much bigger he was than you, how strong and beefy and muscular he looked.

And Ari’s genes were strong enough that he’d passed them down to his unborn children too. You were about eight months along with Ari’s twins in your belly. Both boys. Both bigger than average according to your last scan. And both extremely active and strong just like their daddy – you knew because of all the somersaults and kicks they were subjecting you to day after day. But it was worth it. Ari said that you were the always the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on, but pregnancy just made you glow differently. And he’d get that fire in his eyes every time he looked at your belly growing his babies, and it made you feel so powerful, so sexy, so wonderful.

You’d only been married to Ari for a month before you’d found out you were pregnant. You’d met him less than a year ago, this business tycoon who’d swept you off your innocent feet. He was handsome, charming and respectful, and he’d proposed to you after only a few weeks. You’d said yes, of course. And he’d made it clear that he wanted a big family, a cute little housewife (you) who took care of him and his children. You were all too happy to oblige, because you wanted all those things too.

“How are my boys?” Ari whispers, cupping your belly with his huge palm. God, he was just so big – built strong like a wrestler yet also lithe and athletic. Not to mention so goddamned handsome! You couldn’t believe your luck. Some of your friends had told you that you were too young for a man like Ari. You were only fresh out of college and he was almost double your age and the CEO of one of the biggest tech companies in the country. That didn’t matter to you, though. You liked being his little baby, having him dote over you and spoil you (which he had done since the day he met you, and continued to do till this day).

And so what if he babied you all the time and made all your decisions for you? You liked giving up the control, and Ari was just so smart and level-headed, it just made sense to allow him to take over every aspect of your life.

“Your boys have been extra rowdy today.” You giggle as your husband continues to press kisses all over your face and neck, his long hair tickling you as he does so. “They keep kicking me like they want to come out already. How am I supposed to tell them they’re not due for another month?”

Ari smirks, easily picking you up with one arm like you’re a little baby yourself. His other hand is still splayed over your swollen stomach. He’d grown addicted to cupping your belly ever since the day you told him you were pregnant. It was a problem in the early days, when none of your friends and family knew yet your husband kept stroking your belly in front of them, a cocky look on his handsome face that all but gave everything away.

“I can’t wait till they come, but I also want to keep you pregnant just a little bit longer.” Ari murmurs, carrying you into the living room. He gives your ass a loud slap, the action making you yelp and clutch his muscular bicep as he grins. “You’re so sexy like this, baby. Have I ever told you that?”

“Only about a gazillion times,” you roll your eyes, but this earns you another hard slap on the ass and a warning look from your husband. You squeal, “Ari! That hurt!”

“You know not to roll your eyes at me, honey. I may have married you and knocked you up but you’re still my little baby.” Ari pats your bum and gives it a soft squeeze before kissing your cheek to make you smile. “And I’ve told you to call me daddy, princess.”

“Oh yeah, sorry daddy!”

“That’s okay, baby.”

You’d called Ari “daddy” during sex ever since he took your virginity on your first date almost a year ago. It just fit him; he took care of you so good and he was just so big and strong and dominant. Ari was really into it, always coaxing you to call him daddy – even outside the bedroom. And he’d always look so extremely smug when you’d inevitably slip and accidentally call him daddy in front of your friends and family.

But especially now that the two of you were married and lived in Ari’s big suburban mansion, he just went crazy every time he’d come home to you in your checkered apron, pregnant with his babies and calling him daddy. He’d told you once that it was his idea of heaven on Earth, and you were the one who’d given it to him.

“You have no idea how hot you look right now, baby.” Ari tells you as he takes a seat on his armchair and sets you on his lap. You’re still dwarfed by his huge size even when he’s sitting down with you on top of him, holding you securely on his knee like you’re his little baby. His gaze grows dark as he watches your breasts bounce slightly as he sits down, pink tongue peeking out to lick his lips hungrily. “I couldn’t concentrate at work, all I could think about was my baby wife, round with my children and taking care of my house in your cute little dress.”

You glance down at your dress, it’s one of many that Ari had bought for you. He had said that baby wives only ever wore dresses around the house so it was easier for their daddies to fuck them. You had absolutely no problem with that, seeing as you loved wearing the cute dresses he bought for you, and you also loved it whenever he’d slip his hand up the cotton material, or bent you over a random piece of furniture around the house and fucked the living daylights out of you.

Ari was a loving and doting husband, but sometimes he would get extremely rugged and rough with you. He’d tell you that you were his wife and it was your duty to bend over for him whenever he pleased. Sometimes, he’d watch you with lust-filled eyes while you did the housework around the house. And all he had to do was snap his fingers and you’d come running over to him.

He’d either push you down to your knees and make you suck him off till he was satisfied, or he’d bend you over the arm of the couch and fuck you fast and hard, calling you his cute little baby housewife, telling you how all your holes belonged to him only, because he was your husband and he owned you. And you’d whimper and mewl and wail and cry while he had his way with you, till he’d fill you up with his cum and then pull you upright, straighten your dress, slap your ass and send you back to your housework.

No wonder he knocked you up so quickly.

“Honey? You still here?” Ari bounces you on his lap and you blink before smiling up at him.

“Oh. Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Why would you need to think, baby? Daddy does all the thinking, remember? You just look pretty.” Ari bounces you on his lap again, making you giggle while his eyes once more zero in on your breasts. They’re so much bigger now that you’re pregnant, and Ari has been paying more attention to them than usual. In fact, your pregnant body in general has him incensed and feral. He’s always grabbing at you and pawing at you, squeezing and groping and stroking your every curve like he can’t get enough.

He reaches past you to grab the cold bottle of beer which you’d already set out for him on the coffee table. You watch him as he takes a deep swig, admiring how handsome he is. He’s got a defined jawline covered with his thick beard that makes him look more manly and virile than ever. A gorgeous sloped nose with a cute bump on it that you love to kiss, and high cheekbones smattered with freckles. He sports a golden tan almost all year round, as well as a wonderfully beefy, sun-kissed body that you can’t get enough of.

Even now, you slip your hand up and down his hard stomach, feeling his hairy, toned abs through his cotton shirt that’s stretched taught over them. God, he really was the hottest man alive. All the women that worked for him were crazy about him, including his secretary. But Ari had told you not to worry, that you were the love of his life and he’d waited forty years to find you, and he’d wait forty more to find you again.

“Dinner’s all ready for you.” You say, pressing a kiss to his cheek because he looks so deliciously handsome and you can’t help it. “I made all your favourites, daddy. I think I’m getting better at cooking now.”

You’d struggled with cooking at the beginning of your marriage. You knew Ari expected you to be a good little housewife, but cooking was never your strongest suit. Ari hadn’t minded though, always finding it adorable when you’d sheepishly serve him burnt food that was borderline inedible. And then he’d order a takeaway and you’d both eat in front of the TV, and he’d lick the pizza sauce off the corner of your mouth before pulling you into his lap to make out.

But you’d wanted to be a good housewife for him, after all, Ari worked so hard to provide for you and he bought you whatever you wanted. He didn’t expect you to slave away in the kitchen, of course, but you figured he deserved a good homecooked meal once in a while. And so, you sifted through various cookbooks and online recipes and YouTube videos until you’d finally been able to cook something half decent. And Ari had been so proud of you when you’d served him a roasted chicken and mashed potatoes, and making you husband proud was all you really wanted to do.

Back in the present, Ari playfully chucks you under your chin, “You’re an amazing cook, sweetheart. I can’t wait to eat dinner. But I won’t lie, baby, right now I’m hungry for something else.”

His eyes go down to your chest again, and you smile demurely as thrills shoot down to your core. Ari’s big hands cup your breasts, squeezing them lewdly before tweaking your hard nipples through the thin material of your dress. You never really wore bras inside the house, and Ari was not one to complain about that. He grins wickedly when two wet spots appear on the fabric covering your nipples.

You’d started lactating recently, and Ari had been nothing short of thrilled about that. “Baby wives feed their daddies their mommy milk,” he’d told you, and of course, he was always right. You were scared at first, having him drink from you. But he’d been so ravenous, so hungry for your milk and the intimacy that came with doing something like that. How could you possibly say no?

Now, Ari fed from you all the time. It was almost a daily occurrence which almost always ended in mind-blowing sex.

Ari holds you close to him as he kisses down your neck, his hands slipping up your arms to push the straps of your dress down. Your breasts are painful and heavy as he frees them from the dress, your nipples already hard as glass but you still hiss as the cool air hits them, making them even more erect, if that was possible.

“Poor baby,” Ari coos, tweaking your nipple casually while you squirm in his arms, whimpering like a baby who needs to be tended to. That only incenses Ari more, and he gives your erect nipple a couple of flicks, making you gasp as he laughs wickedly. “Look at your sexy tits, all sore and heavy. They must really hurt, huh baby?”

You pout and nod, grabbing his forearm desperately, “Y-Yeah, they do. Daddy, plea–”

“My poor baby,” Ari continues, squeezing and groping to his heart’s content as droplets of your milk begin to leak. Your husband licks his lips, spreading the liquid all over your sore breasts, making you hornier than ever but he only smirks. “Bet you’ve been waiting all day for daddy to come home and breastfeed from you, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, please!” You whimper, jutting your chest out till your heavy breasts are almost smothering his face. And all he does is laugh, giving your nipple another hard pinch while you feel the tears of frustration well in your eyes. He reduced you to tears so easily, but it was only because you craved him so badly and didn’t like it when things didn’t go your way. He often teased you about this, calling you a needy, spoiled baby who lacked any type of patience.

Ari gives your nipple a light flick with is tongue, his blue eyes shining wickedly as your breath hitches. But then he lets out a feral growl, completely enveloping your nipple between his lips and sucking down hard. You whimper again, grabbing his hair and holding his head close to your breast as he begins to drink your milk, groaning, biting and licking at your nipple like a starved man.

“God, you have such sexy tits, baby.” He mumbles against your breasts, burying his face into them as he continues to suckle. He grabs your other tit and gives it a rough squeeze, kneading the soft flesh with his expert fingers. “And your mommy milk tastes so good.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy!” You manage to get out through all the different sensations you’re feeling. He’s still bouncing you up and down on his lap, his hard dick poking against your butt like a steel rod through his pants. Plus, his mouth working against your nipple is making you see stars, and you feel pleasure mixed with the relief from him draining the milk from your breast.

“Good girl with good manners,” Ari grunts approvingly, his voice slightly muffled as he lewdly takes your whole breast into his mouth (as much of it that fits) giving it a hearty suck while rocking you against him as he dry-humps his dick up into your clothed core. “Just like how daddy trained you to be. Fuck, baby. I bet none of my friends’ wives are as obedient and cute as you, huh?”

“N-No!” you agree with a yelp when he gives your ass a firm slap before grabbing a handful of your ass-cheek from under your dress and giving it a lewd jiggle. “D-Daddy, need you so bad!” You try to grab his hard dick out from the waistband of his pants but he easily slaps your hands away, making you pout and whine as he continues to suck your breasts.

“Let daddy have his meal first.” Ari scolds, slapping your butt again, harder this time, before focusing his attention to your other breast. He suckles you sweetly at first, before growing greedy once your milk starts flowing into his mouth. Incensed, he moans against your breast, grabbing your hips and repositioning you on top of him. He bounces you up and down straight on top of his crotch while he feeds from you, and you moan wantonly as your body begins to work itself up.

“B-But daddy, I waited all – ah! – I waited all day for you!” You pout, trying to grind down against your husband but he holds you in place, always wanting to control your pleasure and never letting you seek it out by yourself unless you had his permission.

Ari releases your nipple with a pop before grinning wolfishly down at you, a thoughtful look on his face as his hand splays itself on your belly once more. “Well, you were a good, patient baby today, weren’t you?”

“I was, I was!” He slips his hand down under your dress, quickly settling it between your legs while your breath hitches and eyes cloud over with lust and want. And all it takes is for his pointer finger to press down on your swollen, panty-covered clit and you’re cumming. You squeak and clutch on to his muscular forearms as you orgasm, your other hand going down to hold his hand in place between your legs as you hump and ride against it. Your panties are completely soaked through and your entire body is buzzing with sensitivity as you pant his name.

Ari looks extremely smug as he watches you orgasm in his lap, leaving a sizable pool of your wetness on his clothed leg. Casually, he tweaks your nipple, his blue eyes trained on your face as you gasp in response, your body twitching in his arms.

“You’re so sensitive now, baby. I bet I could make you cum without even touching you.” Ari says, looking proud and smug at the same time.

“S-Sorry,” you shoot him a sheepish look once you’ve come down from your high, “can’t help it sometimes, daddy. Specially since I can’t ever touch myself when you’re not here.”

That was one of Ari’s firm rules that you had to follow. At the beginning of your marriage, Ari made it clear that baby wives like you had to follow all the rules that your husband set. That included not speaking to other men without his permission, always doing what he said, always telling him where you were, and of course, never touching yourself without his permission – certainly never when you were alone in the house.

“Dumb babies like you don’t know how to touch yourself.” Ari answers, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he slips his hand out from between your legs, licking his fingers lewdly. “That’s why you need daddy to tend to you all the time. Now tell me, baby, how would you like to be fucked tonight?”

In next to no time at all, your big, beefy husband has you on all fours on your king-sized bed upstairs. A feral energy had overtaken him when you’d shyly voiced your desires to be fucked as hard as possible. Pregnancy made you so horny and feral for him, and in the early days he only ever allowed you on top, because he was so much bigger than you and so scared of hurting you. But soon, he’d learned to be rough in a way that had you both feeling satisfied without ever really causing you any harm.

And so, Ari had wasted no time in carrying you up the stairs, laying you down on the bed and slapping your ass as you scrambled to get on your hands and knees for him. And he’d slapped your ass once, twice, three times, and you knew he was mesmerised by how it jiggled.

“You’re so fucking hot like this, baby.” Ari murmurs, spanking you again like he can’t get enough. “Kept thinking of you like this while I was at work, bent over like a little whore in front of me.”

“Please put it in, Ari!”

“Patience, sweetheart.” He chuckles, running a hand up your spine and sending shivers all throughout your body. He presses his dick against your naked backside, and he feels so hot and pulsating. He’d torn your dress off the moment he’d entered the bedroom, and his own clothes had quickly followed suit. And now you were at the mercy of one big, horny, muscular, beefy man. A caveman, by the looks of how feral he was getting behind you. It’s like seeing your pregnant, naked body just flipped a switch in him, and his own patience was riding thin along with yours as he continues to rut against you.

With one quick thrust, Ari drives his huge dick inside you. You cry out in pain because he’s so big, and you’ll never get used to just how big he is. He’s more than twice the size of you and so incredibly well hung, and all you can do is brace yourself and take it, your whole body jerking forward from the force of his thrust. You’d have gone face first into the mattress had he not anticipated that and grabbed on to your hips tightly.

“Oh, fuck, baby, such a tight fucking hole you got. Daddy barely fits inside.” Ari’s fingers are clutching your hips so tightly, you know it’ll leave a bruise. And he’s rough from the get go, although you know he’s holding back because you’re pregnant. “God, fuck, sweetheart. You got such a good and tight fuckin’ snatch, so perfect for my dick, fuck!”

“H-Harder, daddy!” You cry, rutting back against him as your breasts bounce up and down from the sheer force of his thrusts. But your request earns you a swift smack to your bum.

“Take it how daddy gives it to you, baby.” Ari sneers, the alpha male inside of him taking complete control as his hips increase their pace. It feels like he’s ripping your insides with his hard dick but you feel so goddamn full and so good that you don’t even care, even as he continuously rains slap after slap down on your ass. “God, fuck, such a good little baby wife. Obedient as shit, aren’t you? Daddy’s little baby, gonna give me a bunch of babies, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yeah, gonna have your babies, daddy!” You agree, sounding delirious and very much like an airhead who’s only capable of repeating what her daddy is saying to her but he’s reduced you to this state through his sheer hard fucking and you don’t even care. You want it harder, want him slamming into you till you can’t catch your breath and you pass out. But you know he wouldn’t, you can tell by how he’s got one arm now wrapped protectively around your belly, as if he needs to keep it there to remind himself not to lose control like how he often does during sex.

You remember a couple of times when Ari had gone completely feral, fucking you like you were an animal. Relentless and unforgiving, leaving you with bruises and bumps as he’d had his way with you again and again. But the dark side of you had enjoyed being a cumdump for him, despite the fact that you’d cried from the pain and overwhelming pleasure. And Ari had taken you into his arms afterwards, telling you how sorry he was, how he’d be careful with you in the future, how he got too riled up and how he couldn’t help but take you roughly when he saw how sweet and innocent you looked. And then he’d always be so sweet with his aftercare, and run you a bath and dote on you and hug you till you fell asleep in his arms, smelling like rose scented bubble bath.

“Want me to knock you up again, sweetheart?” Ari asks you back in the present, fucking you so hard you’re seeing stars. His fat dick is hitting all the right spots inside you, making you arch your back as he keeps thrusting into you, hips going into jackhammer mode. “Because I will knock you up again, baby. Soon as you give me my boys, I’ll have you on your back and filled to the brim with my fucking cum so you get knocked up again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? Wouldn’t you? Fuck!”

“YES, YES, YES!” You scream at the top of your lungs, the pressure building up inside you till that invisible coil snaps and you cum so hard, you’re seeing stars. You collapse underneath Ari, and he has to hold you up as he continues to fuck you. But him describing how he’s going to knock you up again was enough for you to squirt all over his dick, your slippery walls squeezing his hard, fat cock that doesn’t stop its relentless assault inside you.

“Fuck yeah, baby, squeeze my fuckin’ dick!” Ari groans, using your limp body as a literal hole for his dick as he grabs your hips and makes you shake your ass on his dick, “Fuck yeah, baby couldn’t help but cum from the thought of getting knocked up by daddy, huh? Well, you gotta give me another one, honey. One orgasm isn’t enough for my baby girl.”

He pulls you up to your knees so your back is against his chest. And your body is completely limp and void of energy since orgasming had taken everything out of you, and you’re not even sure you can cum again like how he wants you to. But your beefy husband holds you up against him nevertheless, one big hand wrapping around your throat while the other cups your heavy breast and squeezes, and this whole time his hips don’t stop moving inside you. His fat dick driving in and out of you at different, varied paces. Slow so you can feel every ridge and vein, and then fast till his hips are a blur and you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You best fucking believe I’m always going to keep you pregnant from now on.” Ari growls in your ear, squeezing your tits together as he paws at you like a feral caveman, his fingers pressing against your throat and cutting off your air supply just enough for your vision to blur and it all feels so deliciously good and you’re long past the point of even being coherent as you wail and scream for him.

You can feel him losing himself, getting rougher and rougher. You know your husband too well, you know he’s turning himself on more and more at the idea of impregnating you again. His lips latch onto your neck, sucking and biting while his hands squeeze your breasts so hard it hurts, and you feel your milk dribble down your nipples.

Ari sees it too, and you swear you can feel his dick get even harder inside you. In a nanosecond, he’s manhandled you into a different position. Now, he’s sitting on the bed with you on top of him, and he’s bouncing you up and down on his dick. And oh my fucking God, it’s so much deeper this way! You can feel your puffy clit grind against his trimmed pubic hairs as he does all the work, his muscular arms wrapping around you, not caring at all that your pregnant belly is in the way as he continues to fuck up into you.

“Can’t let your mommy milk go to waste, can we?” Ari grins, grabbing your tit and latching his mouth on it immediately, sucking down so hard that you see stars. He lets go with a pop, “Guess I didn’t get all of it, huh, baby?”

You hold his head in place, carding your fingers through his brown waves as he continues to drink your milk like a ravenous beast, like he can’t get enough of it. Switching from one nipple to the other, giving both your breasts equal attention as he drains the milk from them.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re breastfeeding daddy, baby.” Ari tells you, his voice muffled as he keeps his face buried in your breasts. And all the while he’s bouncing you up and down on his dick, and you can feel your second orgasm start to build up – and he hasn’t even cum once yet! You wonder how he remains so calm, so casual enough to have a conversation with you during sex. Meanwhile you’re a dishevelled mess on top of him, head lolling to the side as you’ve already gone dumb from all his ministrations.

“God, fuck, gonna keep you pregnant at all times now, sweetheart.” Ari declares, getting feral again as his hand splays out on your belly. “I want at least five more kids, baby. You gonna give daddy five more babies?”

“Y-Yeah! Yeah, I will!”

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl. A good fucking baby wife. I’m so glad I found you, baby. I love you so fucking much.” He kisses you, pulling you by the hair till you’re flush against him, his hips fucking up into you at a blurring pace that makes you feel like he’ll rip you in half any second now.

“And all the other guys will be so fucking jealous that they don’t have a cute little knocked up baby wife who does whatever they ask. Fuck! Tell me you’re my cute little baby wife!” He pinches your nipple harshly before going back to your belly, rubbing it with his huge hand as he clutches you so close on top of him.

“ ‘m your cute little b-baby wife!” You moan, finally finding the energy to desperately ride him, up and down and backwards and forwards, grinding against the thick steel rod that is his dick as it jams up your poor, abused fuckhole.

“Damn right you are. And I’m your daddy who knocked you the fuck up. And I’ll do it again and again, because you’re my fucking property and I can do whatever the fuck I want with you! You got that? Fuck!”

“Yeah, oh fuck, yeah, daddy, you own me! Wanna have more of your babies! Want you to keep me pregnant all the time!” You blabber incoherently.

“And you’re gonna obey me, and be a good little mommy to all our children, aren’t you?” He smacks your ass hard, once, twice, three times till your ass is sure to be raw and all the while you nod and agree with him, “A good little mommy who does what she’s told to do, and spreads her legs every time daddy wants to knock her up again, you got that?”

“Yes!”

“Fuck, sweetheart. Can’t wait to come home to you taking care of our little ones. Five of ‘em, with another one on the way. Fuck, can’t fuckin’ wait for that.” Ari grunts, his thrusts growing deeper and hitting your spot so deliciously and making you mewl, as well as his words and promises of keeping you pregnant which have you turned on beyond belief.

The pressure in your lower belly builds up higher and higher, more intense till you almost can’t stand it. And it feels so deliciously good, your pleasure mounting higher and higher as Ari continues to fuck you throw it all, holding you close and coaxing you, telling you to cum again for daddy, giving you permission to let go and cover his fat dick in your cream. And you obey, and you cum so hard, marvelling at how much of it squirts out of you.

Like a broken faucet, squirt after squirt of your cum covers his cock, and you sob and clutch at Ari’s hairy chest, burying your face in his hard chest as you cum so hard you almost faint. “Oh daddy, daddy, daddy!” you whimper like a broken record, like a baby who’s collapsed and needs to be held by her big, strong daddy.

“That’s a good baby,” Ari coos, stroking your hair like you’re his good little girl and the pride in his voice makes you sag with relief and euphoria, and his thrusts grow sloppy as he continues to ride you through your orgasm. His fat balls slapping against your pussy, and you know his load will be big because he’s held off so long.

“Fuck, baby.” Ari lets out a guttural groan before he cums, emptying himself inside of you as spurt after spurt of his hot cum sears you from the inside out. Brands you as his as your greedy pussy squelches and swallows his seed like it’s your job. And Ari looks so proud, holding you so close to him till it hurts, like he doesn’t want a single drop of his cum wasted as he fills you up like you’re his personal cumdump. “God-fucking-dammit, your greedy little snatch is squeezing me so good, baby. Best fuckin’ pussy I ever had, taking all my daddy cum like a good little girl. Fuck, take it, take all of it!”

And you do, taking every drop of his thick ropes of cum till you feel so full, stuffed to the brim with his heavy load as you fall down, completely spent and breathing hard, on your back on the bed.

You’re completely sapped of all energy, and again you marvel at how Ari seems perfectly fine, as if he hadn’t just emptied the world’s biggest load inside of you after a long session of unbridled, hot, rough sex. But your husband seems more interested in your body in its post orgasmic glow, rubbing you all over as you rest from the fucking you’ve just received, marvelling at his cum as it drips out of your pussy.

“Looks like your baby pussy couldn’t keep it all in, honey.” Ari swipes a finger up your slit and it comes up covered in his cum. Your mouth drops open in the shape of an o, which works out in your husband’s favour as he feeds you the thick cum. Globs of it, again and again, swiping up from your pussy before he brings his finger to your lips and allows you to suckle it off him. And it’s all you can do in your weakened, post-fucked state, suckle his fingers like a baby as your daddy feeds you his cum.

“Th-Thank you, daddy.” You murmur weakly, not forgetting your manners as Ari smiles down at you smugly. Finally tearing his gaze away from your body, he lies down next to you and gathers you into his arms for a cuddle. Kissing the top of your head and all over your face as he holds you close to him, till you can feel his heartbeat in sync with your own.

“You’re welcome, baby. I love you so much.” Ari answers, looking like the happiest man in the world. And it’s such a powerful feeling, knowing it’s you who has made him feel this way.

“Love you too, daddy.” You say tiredly, cuddling close and burying your face into his hairy chest as you breathe in his intoxicating post-sex musk. “Can’t wait to give you more babies. Can’t wait for our boys to come. I’ll be the best mommy to your babies, I promise.”

Ari chuckles, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as he gazes at you with eyes filled with adoration. His hand goes down to cup your belly, and he squeezes you so close to him, you feel you might suffocate. But in the best way.

“I know you will, baby. I know you’ll take care of my children, but right now I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

“Okay, daddy.”

He runs you a strawberry scented bubble bath, carrying you to the bathroom and getting into the tub with you. Gently scrubbing you clean and massaging your sore muscles and sensitive skin while you lie on top of him in the bath, content and barely conscious from the incredible session of fucking you’ve just received. Smiling faintly as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, promising you the world and more, his words painting the perfect life which lays in store for you in the future, as well as the perfect life you’re currently living now – all because of him.

THE END! This is my ultimate fantasy and i have no clue why i never wrote it before now! pLEASE PELASE let me know what you think! thank you very very much! love you all!

[bomber-grl]

Peter Parker Dating hc 🕸️

Pairing(s):Peter Parker (Tom hollands)x Gn!Reader (both civilian and superhero included)

As a civilian you were probably unaware of his secret identity for a good awhile

Until you inevitably found out and began dating

How you found out well, well let’s just say it wasn’t ideal

You had been friends for awhile and the only way Peter would ever let you near him or his room (while having a crush on you) would be if he forgot something at your house or something

So you knocked and May let you know he wasn’t there but still let you in

I mean she wasn’t just gonna let you stand outside waiting for him, if anything he was to blame for not being responsible about the time you two established for meeting up

Queue you walking into his room and he’s half suited up and the both of you are just staring at eachother

That interaction led to some discourse, obviously

But after the initial shock you (surprisingly) moved on

Now if you’re a superhero working for stark for some reason then you met that way and there’s no secret identity reveal

Tbh the two of you have to have something in common

Whether its interests in comics or “nerd” stuff

something had to have led to the two of you getting together

Or maybe you’re just into easily flustered, needy men, who knows 🤷‍♀️

Like if you’re a hero then you met that way and share that in common (including tech if you’re into that)

So just imagine Peter, whose very nervous/ excited, just absolutely rambling about some interest that was briefly mentioned and that you both shared

The thing is, you’re on a date right now and he’s absolutely embarrassing himself (in his opinion)

He’d try to plan everything to perfection and gift you what he can even if he feels it might pale to what you’re used to (if you’re wealthy)

Your first date was especially memorable since not only did he display his nervousness so obviously but it was as if the universe couldn’t let his plan run smoothly

He had tripped, stuttered, made too many mistakes to count, just a piece of work all in all

To you though? It was endearing

He had wanted your first date to be the upmost perfection, even if it wasn’t an average persons “ideal” by the end-

It didn’t matter because you could tell the genuine affection he had for you so much so that he had planned this all, and unfortunately (for him) embarrassed himself beyond return in front of you

“Kill me now”

- Peter probably

He doesn’t really seem like it, if anything he seems pretty self actualized but there’s obviously moments where he feels a bit sorry (?) for the lack of a better word

He’s just always clumsy, and getting flustered easily

Especially around you

So although he might think that you probably think less than ideally of him, he couldn’t be more wrong

If anything it adds to his charm and anything he does is pretty endearing

So when you decide to share such words with Peter while you’re chilling in his room

Well, he’s floored

He thanks you but then that spirals into him stuttering and tripping over himself

Despite the fact that you complimented him to not only ease his worries but also to just let him know-

He’s groveling (exaggeration) and apologizing for, again, being himself…

Blud needs to chill out…

Usually after missions or whatever they’re called- Peter usually has minor injuries or cuts

How do you know this? You’re his main source of comfort so he’s sneak in through your window into your room as often as he can

A particular moment was when you both decided to have a sleep over at your house

It was definitely a huge progress in your relationship but you should’ve known better

While you were asleep, he snuck off and att the end of his little escapade, he snuck back in

Only thing is that he returned back through the window he snuck out from just to be met with the lights on

He visibly sunk at your disappointed gaze once he noticed you up

He isn’t in the best state so you take it easy on him and just go rummaging through your cabinets- you hoped to have something for his wounds around there somewhere

As you’re searching, Peter has taken it upon himself to convince you his injuries are nothing, just go back to bed, and is just overall downplaying his condition

You pause and just stare at him

Obviously he’s taken by surprise but he realizes he can’t do anything to stop you and just lets you continue

Even while your cleaning his wounds or bandaging him up he’s making jokes about the situation

Well maybe not jokes but we all know how rambly he gets when he’s nervous

Somehow digging himself a grave right there

On that same page

We’re all aware of how difficult it is for Peter to balance his civilian and superhero life

I’m not up for debate- it might as well be canon

He’s always having to leave school for superhero work in which it has consequences or he leaves superhero work and still has consequences in the franchise so respectfully: 🤫🤐)

Peter tries super hard to be there and include you in what’s going on but sometimes he needs to cancel or leave hang outs abruptly

You understand this obviously but it’s still upsetting, not as much if you’re a superhero id imagine

But yknow

Still annoying asf

You don’t give him hell for it even if you want to because either 1. You do the same thing (superhero) 2. He can’t help it and he already gets enough shit

He’s also super protective

Especially if you’re a civilian

It’s sort of endearing/ annoying- somehow both simultaneously

Now if you’re a hero/ avenger then you both understand things about your secret identities

Particularly about hiding them

Yknow how Ned would always help Peter out? Well you and Peter do that for eachother

If u have family or others who aren’t aware like friends- Peter has your back and vice versa

It’s just the price you need to pay

Especially since it’s not easy balancing lives

[wisp-writes-x-reader]

Hi! Can I request a Sonic x reader (romantic) that can outrun him? Which mean they way WAYYY faster than him (basically sonic needs to run at his full max speed to be able to match Redaer's normal running speed.)

Reader is Sonic's first friend and stick with him on his journey since. They have some problems communicating and would much prefer someone else doing that for them.

That's all <33333

ofc, thank you for the request!

Sonic x EvenFaster!Reader ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

aka the ‘blue blur’ and the ‘didn’t even see them they’re that fast’

when you first met, Sonic is so shocked

his entire identity as fastest thing alive is just gone, but he’s okay taking second place if that means he gets to be friends with you :)

that doesn’t mean Sonic’s not competitive though, he’s always ready to race you and push himself to try and finally beat you (it never works, but he has fun trying)

when sonic and you meet tails, you both treat him like a younger brother, and are absolutely ready to fight any of his bullies >:(

also tails is definitely testing the both of you on his running wheel to see how fast you two can run

Sonic notices your problems with communicating after you always depend on him to carry conversations with other people, so he asks tails if he can develop some tech to help (like communication cards, an ACC device etc)

when you find out, you’re flattered, and if the tech will help, you use it gladly. If tech won’t help, you’ll try and explain to Sonic that it’s something that can’t be helped with things like that

Because he’s never really had communication issues, he doesn’t understand why, but promises to carry on helping you out in conversations like he always has

I like to think that during the metal virus arc, when sonic was infected and had to run it off every so often, you’d run ahead in front of him to keep him motivated and give him some much needed company

Sonic’s never been great at being in a relationship because he doesn’t want to settle down, he’s too fast and no one can keep up with him, but that’s not an issue for you, so he finally starts to let some walls down

He definitely does something really corny like 'if you beat me in this race you get to kiss me ;)'

Sorry this took so long!! I ended up getting sick and had a shit week tbh 😭

[tiramisuc0ffee]

Cold Nights.

☆~~~~☆~~~~☆ pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!reader

Summary: Suguru defected. Satoru comes to you for comfort.

warnings/tags: Takes place before "The Ghost of You" (which you can read here), and takes place after Warm Afternoons (which you can read here). Mentions events during the Hidden Inventory Arc, reader, and Satoru are close friends, but it's clear there is something more, ANGST, ANGST, ANGST, not a lot of comfort tbh- like a sprinkle of fluff? slight OOC!Gojo, imo teehee

word count: 3.2k (I KEEP GOING OVERBOARD WHEN IT COMES TO THIS MAN)

☆~~~~☆~~~~☆

It was an incredibly rare day off. Classes had been canceled and no missions had been assigned to you. The only flimsy explanation you were given by Yaga was that some form of internal investigation needed to be done within the school and it was in everyone's best interests to keep most of the students away from the main campus.

The news had been a shock and you certainly had several questions—the suddenness, the complete lack of clarity—it simply didn't sit right with you. A part of you wanted to attempt and pry for more details but, truthfully, the allure of finally having a day to just take it easy and potentially indulge in some hobbies you've fallen out of touch with was so tempting that you simply nodded with a smile before heading back to your dorm.

The sun shone brightly when you left Yaga's office, the day couldn't be more perfect. You capitalized on this, taking the time to finally visit that cafe you had been eyeing for a while, bringing along that fiction book that had been doing nothing but collecting dust on the shelf. You even did some shopping, treating yourself to a new outfit that you hoped to find an excuse to wear sometime soon.

But as evening approached, dark clouds rolled in and rain began to fall. Your eyes watched how the raindrops splattered across the window of your room, creating a repetitive pattern as you held a cup of tea close to your chest, sitting upright, your knees to your chest on your bean bag.

Finally a day off... God knew how badly you and everyone else needed it.

Especially Satoru and Suguru.

You couldn't help the frown that tugged at your lips as you thought of the two men. Of course, you only heard stories of what they went through. Stories of a young girl by the name of Anamai who they couldn't protect, how Suguru had to watch her life being taken right before his very eyes, watching as the blood poured from her head, Satoru who came face-to-face with death and essentially lost his touch with reality, resorting to killing a man, though an assassin, in such a brutal manner.

You hadn't been there to witness any of it, but you saw the evident repercussions and how deeply the events affected them both.

With each passing day, you could see Suguru was looking worse for wear. Deep and dark circles contrasted heavily against pale skin, his hair growing long and unruly, and his body slimming, losing the definition it once had. And even though Satoru and Shoko would seemingly take his lazy excuses at face value when they asked, you were certain that you all knew how the raven-haired boy had something eating away at him.

Then Haibara died, and a hefty state of mourning took over the campus.

You watched as Nanami would have these flashes of anger, seeing several moments of barely contained rage and sadness. You understood his emotions deeply. You felt gutted. There was a part of you that always felt like you built a family within Jujutsu Tech, that these were your people and you cared deeply for each and every single one of them.

You remember the tears you shed silently in your room the night you found out. Remembering the handful of outings you, Suguru, Shoko, Satoru, Nanami, and Haibara went on. Several afternoons and evenings were filled with goofing off... just living life, feeling like normal high schoolers.

He was so young...

You didn't have it in you to go to the morgue to see his body, you weren't sure you could stomach the sight of it all. You knew Suguru went with Nanami, the two of them didn't talk much that day.

You tried to be as supportive as you could. You couldn't stomach the thought of seeing another one of your beloved friends fall, so you tried to be there. There were times you tried talking to Suguru, during the one-off chances you got to be alone with him for a brief couple of moments, but he would brush you off gently, giving you reassurances that you knew were nothing more than poorly constructed lies.

You wanted to be there. But what could you do? As much as it pained you to see him struggle, it's hard to help someone who wasn't ready for it.

You sighed softly.

But Satoru on the other hand of it all, his response was exactly what you expected, and if you were an outsider you would honestly have thought that he was completely unaffected by it all.

His normal demeanor was the same as always, carrying himself around with a lax and carefree attitude.

But, you second-years knew better.

Suddenly Satoru was pushing himself more and more, so much more than he normally did. You saw his determination tenfold and how there was this prominent need to push himself further to master his technique. You watched on as he managed to figure out how to manipulate his Infinity to discern levels of danger, automatically at that. His struggle to use Red was no more, mastering it to a tee and now proudly showing off the fact he was able to utilize the Reverse Cursed Technique as well.

He rose above everyone else so quickly, at such an alarming rate, it left many of you in the dust when it came to strength-

He truly had become the strongest.

But you knew, this all developed from deep-rooted frustration.

You could see as plain as day that he took what happened to Amanai and himself as a hard-hitting failure and a sign of weakness. And he wanted to make sure that it would never happen again.

But as a direct result of his intensive training and remarkable improvements, you got to accompany him on missions less and less, meaning he was away a lot more often than he usually was.

He often went alone returning with an earful of stories the moment he reunited with you, talking about what weak first grade he had to obliterate that day. Talking with exaggerated hand gestures and dramatic delivery as you would laugh at his antics, munching on whatever sweet treat he picked up on his way back to share with you.

At least they had today to take it easy, you thought to yourself. You hoped that they would utilize this opportunity to do something fun to add some color to their life. Especially for Suguru, maybe Satoru or Shoko decided to drag him out somewhere, the thought made you smile for a moment as you took a sip of your tea.

Yeah, a day off for both of them was definitely needed. They deserved to feel like normal people again... even if it was just for a day.

BANG BANG BANG

A loud banging on your door had you jolting and letting out a soft squeak as you nearly spilled your half-cold tea all over your lap. You scramble to set the mug aside on your coffee table at you hurriedly rise to your feet, sliding on your slippers as the knocking begins to grow a bit more restless.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG "Coming!" you called out, hoping the knocking would finally cease. You swallowed your annoyance, trying to find it within you not to curse out whoever was at the door for giving you a scare as just a few gentle knocks would have sufficed.

You approach your front door and your fingers reach out and wrap around the doorknob, twisting and pulling.

"Satoru?" you blinked, your voice laced with surprise when you opened the door and were greeted with the sight of him.

It wasn't that strange for him to show up unannounced, he did it all the time and you were more than accustomed to the habit. No, what confused you was the fact that he was soaked as if he had been caught in the rain. His hair was matted down, his clothes clinging to his body as waterdrops dripped from his skin.

He didn't have his Infinity activated. Something was clearly wrong.

“Hey—are you okay—” you started, cutting yourself off with a gentle 'hmph!' when Satoru suddenly pulled you into him wordlessly. Your clothes dampened from his own soaked ones and normally you would curse the life out of him for something like this, but you made sure to hold your tongue, knowing very well now wasn't the time for that.

He held you tightly in his arms, and you could feel the shivering of his body against your own, likely from the cold wind nipping at his body from being out in the rain for who knows how long.

You frown, letting him hold you for a few seconds longer before gently patting his back, indicating for him to ease up his hold. You can feel him hesitate, giving you one last gentle squeeze before pulling away. You take the opportunity to close the door behind him, locking it and glancing up at him wordlessly before walking further into your apartment, inviting him further in.

"You're going to catch a cold..." you sigh out loud, moving hurriedly to your dresser, first fetching a towel and tossing it to him, which he catches with ease. He still doesn't speak and it bothers you deeply. The Satoru you were used to had no off switch, he could talk aimlessly for hours without a care. But this unnerving silence, the way it was so blatantly evident that something was bothering him and he wasn't even trying to cover it up— it was strange.

You open up one of your drawers, fetching out one of his shirts and joggers that the two of you agreed to keep in your room given how often he decided to stay over. Closing your drawer, you hold them delicately and make your way back over to Satoru, watching as he dried his hair, his gaze lowered to your floorboards.

"When you're done drying yourself, change into these... I'll get you something warm to drink and then we'll talk, okay?" You murmur softly, handing him the change of clothes, a gentle sympathetic smile on your face as you place a reassuring hand on his arm.

He nodded simply, leaving your side and heading into your bathroom, sliding the door shut behind him. You sigh softly, allowing your smile to drop to a frown as you immediately busy yourself by putting together a cup of hot chocolate. You grabbed a mug from your cupboard, poured in the hot chocolate powder as you heated up some milk, and reluctantly dropped two sugar cubes into the mug, knowing that Satoru would comment on it if you didn't.

As you are pouring in the milk, you hear the sound of your bathroom door sliding open once more, causing your eyes to flicker away. Satoru emerges, looking a little more put together than before, his hair was a ruffled mess but at least he was wearing dry clothes.

"You can hang them by the heater..." you say to him softly, eyes flickering down to the damp clothes that were in his hands while you stirred together the milk, sugar, and hot chocolate powder.

He does just that, gently laying out his clothes before sauntering over to your bed and sitting on top of the plush covers. You follow suit, fingers gently holding the handle of the mug, you walk over to him, leaning down to hand him the warm drink.

He musters up what looks like a weak smile, and you whisper a soft 'you're welcome' before pulling away and moving to go sit back in your beanbag—

But a gentle hand grabs your wrist.

And you meet his gaze.

His normally bright cerulean eyes are dulled down. He looks tired, and there's this specific look on his face— you don't like it—he looks so worn down.

He gently tugs on your arm and you immediately understand. Wordlessly, you sit down next to him on the bed. His free hand laces with yours and you give him a gentle squeeze, watching as he takes a sip of the hot chocolate, a soft sigh leaving his lips from the warmth.

He's running his thumb along your knuckles, lips tugging down into a frown as his eyebrows furrow.

A moment of silence passes.

"Suguru's defected" Satoru finally speaks, his voice devoid of any emotion, it's light, quiet in volume but the words have a sharp edge to them. They hang in the hair for a second, five, then ten—

"What?" you say incredulously, sounding more like a statement rather than a question. It's the only word your mind can conjure, your eyebrows furrowing, wondering if you heard him correctly, wondering if this was one of Satoru's sick pranks that simply went too far.

"He killed an entire village, he killed his parents— I went and saw him, there was this look of indifference on his face like it was nothing to him..." Words started to spill from his lips the more he spoke, not being able to stop since he started, "I wanted to stop him, I knew I had to, he would kill more, I could see it in his eyes but I—" "Satoru please slow down—" you tried to interject watching as he was getting more and more worked up with each word he spoke. His leg was bouncing rapidly and the hold he had on your hand was starting to become a little painful. His gaze was straight ahead, boring into the wall with this thousand-yard stare. He look petrified.

"But I couldn't, and he knew I wouldn't, he taunted me the bastard essentially telling me to go ahead and just pull the fucking trigger but I-" His voice broke and his eyes screwed shut, his head swinging down as his lips began to tremble. "I couldn't, (Y/N), I couldn't do it"

Then you see it.

Cascading down his cheek...

...along his pale skin...

...collecting at his jaw...

...dripping onto his freshly changed shirt...

A tear.

Your heart broke.

"I mean how could I...?" he laughs bitterly, "I'm not that heartless, am I?" he continues to laugh, a sorrowful sight as more tears begin to leave his eyes.

"I knew- we all knew something was wrong. And I tried... I swear I tried. But the fucker just wouldn't talk to me" his smile is wobbly, his bottom lip continuing to tremble and he bites down on it, a huff of air leaving his nose as he tries to still himself.

You truly didn't know what to say.

This simply was too much. You had never seen Satoru so vulnerable before. You had never seen him cry. And beyond that, you were still reeling from the news he brought to you. Your mind was running at a million miles per hour, searching for something, anything to say. Begging that somehow the right words that would heal everything would appear and leave your mouth.

But you drew a blank. So silently, you remove the mug from his hand, setting it on the coffee table next to your long-forgotten cup of tea, and slowly, you wrap your arms around him and hold him close. Hoping that maybe something as childish and as simple as a hug would provide some measly sense of comfort for him.

He breaks.

He's pulling you into his lap, arms tight around your waist and he shoves his face into your neck, stifling his emotions. His breathing is ragged and he's stuttering out nonsense as he tries to find his voice again but fails pathetically.

You felt your entire being shatter at the sight of your best friend being so broken, "This is not your fault, Satoru" you finally whisper, your own voice cracking, wondering if what you said was the right thing to say. "Like you said... you tried, we all tried- we wanted to help him, we really did-" A soft sob leaves your lips at the end of your sentence and the two of you just hold onto each other tighter.

"We can't save those who don't want to be helped.." you resolve, your hand gently running up and down the expanse of his clothed back.

You didn't know what more to say, what could you say at a time like this? Were there any right words? You were still reeling from your own emotions, you didn't know what to make of it all, and you simply felt devastated.

So the two of you sit there, silently crying in each other's arms, mourning over the fact that you lost another one of your friends. Wondering what you both could have done differently, wondering how you could have let Suguru fall so low?

"Stay with me tonight..?" he suddenly speaks again, his voice slightly hoarse as he continues to cling to you tightly.

"Of course..." You whisper back to him, not missing a beat as you attempt to wipe away your tears.

Eventually, the two of you move, making your way underneath the covers of your bed, lying on your side and facing each other. He brought you back to his chest, engulfing you in his arms wordlessly, allowing the two of you to fall into silence for just a few moments.

"Do you remember that mission we had together a couple months ago? The one where we thought we'd be going up against Grade Two Curses" he starts, voice nothing more than a hushed whisper that if you hadn't been so close to him, you may not have heard him. "Yeah, and it turned out to be Grade One's instead..." you whisper back, briefly recalling your annoyance over the misinformation that you and Satoru were given at the time.

He lets out a soft chuckle and you feel you've earned yourself a small victory. "That's the one..." he trailed off, letting out a shaky breath before continuing to speak, "we decided to wander about for a bit afterward... and we just- watched the sunset together and talked," he said, his hands trailing up your back to begin playing with the ends of your hair and a soft smile graces your lips at the action.

"Yeah, I remember that" you murmur, recalling the fond memory as you leaned into his chest a little more.

"So-" he begins, cutting himself with a shaky sigh, "...You don't plan on going anywhere, right?" his voice breaks again, and your ears perk up, realizing he was mimicking those exact words he spoke to you that day.

And you're unsure if this is a narrative you're creating in your head, but you realize at that moment that Satoru was just as terrified as you were.

As selfish as it felt, you realized that he also was afraid of losing more people. That there was a part of him that also didn't know if he could stand to watch as another person slipped through his fingers.

That maybe, he was afraid of potentially losing you just as you were scared shitless of losing him.

You felt something stir within you, an emotion that you couldn't quite place as you processed your own thoughts.

"I promise you... you're stuck with me" you say with teary eyes, mimicking your exact answer to him from that evening. You feel his body tremble and he just holds you tighter, the next few words he speaks coming out shaky and strained.

"...Thank you..."

☆~~~~☆~~~~☆

A/N: well if you read "Ghost of You" - if you know- you know :P But that is the 2nd and final prequel/addition to the Ghost of You story. I wanted to write these two parts as I thought it would help bring more meaning to the story and that it would also offer a bit more of a deep dive into the dynamic that Satoru and the Reader had, and it'll help sort of justify Satoru's reactions and emotions during the story. But thank you guys for the love and support on this fic! It did so much better than I ever thought it would! I have a few drafts of drabbles that I have been preparing to post but I hope you guys will stick around and see some of the new works I will be posting. Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!!

Taglist: @hyori2 @kalulakunundrum @smolbeanzzz @numblytemporary @satxoru

[jetii]

the cross fic made me realize there's not enough tech angsty fanfics

how about a groveling tech trying to get femreader back like they were an item before order 66 tech broke things off, they reunite with the batch later but reader became a very sad person after all that time

an i lied because i thought you deserved better so i pushed you away situation ?

sorry if it's a long ask 😅 first timer here

I like your writing 💕

No worries! I love a detailed prompt.

Writing angst for Tech was harder than I thought it would be tbh. I think his direct communication style and self confidence make it especially difficult, so I took a slight detour here that I feel is more true to his character.

Piece by Piece

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader

Words: 5,630

Tags/Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, allusions to torture, PTSD

Summary: Pushing you away was the logical decision. It was the right choice. But Tech never expected it to hurt so much, nor did he expect to reunite with you months after the rise of the Empire, broken and haunted by your time spent in Imperial custody. Now, he's determined to make things right.

Being in the same room as you is exceedingly difficult in a way Tech didn’t expect.

It’s been weeks since you returned, appearing like a vision from the Force to them, alive, and he still can’t quite believe it. His hands shake slightly when you look at him, his mouth goes dry. He still wants to reach out to you, hold you tight and never let you go, and it is agony to resist, to stand by your side and not be able to touch you.

You were the one who asked for space, time to readjust to being around them again. And he has respected that, despite the desperate, possessive urge to pull you back, to keep you close so you never leave his side again.

It makes it hard to concentrate. Hard to be of any use at all, really.

Tech knows this isn't healthy, the way his mind and body and emotions are behaving, but he is finding it difficult to control. He has a lot of feelings that he isn’t sure what to do with, a lot of emotions that he doesn't understand. Tech isn't one for emotional outbursts, for being ruled by his heart and not his mind. He is rational, logical, always thinking of the most efficient solution to a problem, the most practical way of doing things.

It’s what lead him to break it off with you, after all. He couldn’t afford to have his head in the clouds when so much is on the line, couldn't afford to be distracted by thoughts of you when they could be used against him.

But then you were gone, and Tech was left alone with only the cold reality of his own decisions.

He thought he had made the right choice. Thought he had been logical and sensible, thought it would hurt you less in the long run, if he pulled away. But Tech doesn't feel very sensible now, and it doesn't seem very logical that the best way to protect you would be to push you away.

You have been hurt more than enough. And even if you don't want him in your life anymore, even if you want nothing to do with him, he will never forgive himself for not trying to help.

The fact is, Tech isn’t sure what you want, but he is determined to make amends, to help in any way that he can. It might hurt, might cause him to feel pain at the distance between you, but he is willing to accept that, to live with it if that is what you need.

What he isn’t willing to live with is seeing you unhappy. And you are unhappy.

Your eyes are dark, hollow. Your face is drawn and gaunt, cheeks too thin, and when he sees you, your shoulders are slumped as though under an impossible weight. You barely eat, you barely sleep. Tech watches as you push food around your plate and drink only water. He notices how you keep to yourself, avoid talking and laughing and joking like you used to, and he hates that you have changed so much, that the Empire has taken that joy from you.

And that, more than anything, is what hurts him the most. The Empire took your light, the thing that makes you, you. They ripped your spark away and left a shell behind, and he is struggling to reconcile that with the bright and lively woman he knew, the woman who had such a profound effect on him.

"On all of us," Echo points out one night, as the rest of them watch you sitting alone.

Echo has become increasingly vocal about his feelings, something Tech is glad for. It gives him a chance to understand better, to gain perspective, and Echo has been the one to notice what Tech can't admit, the thing he isn't willing to think about, the thing that hurts the most.

You're suffering, and you're pushing them away.

At first, it seemed reasonable. You were gone a long time, and they hadn’t seen you. It made sense that you needed space.

But time has passed, and you're still not yourself.

Tech thinks back to your first night, how you flinched away from his touch, and realises how foolish he has been. He sees now how much he was hurting you, how much damage his words and actions were causing, and his heart breaks a little more.

It was never about protecting you. Not really.

Tech wanted you. He wanted you for so long, and when he finally had you, he was terrified of losing you. So, he pulled away. He cut ties, and told himself it was for the best.

Except now he has no ties to cut, no bonds left to sever. You're here, but not, and his chest aches as he watches you.

This isn't the way it should be.

Tech should be holding you, and you should be smiling. He should be telling you how much he loves you, how happy he is to have you back. He should be making sure you're comfortable and safe, ensuring that you have everything you need, everything you deserve.

Instead, he stands in the corner of the room, watching silently as his brothers try to coax you into eating, or drinking, or just saying something. Omega is the only one who is successful, who manages to make you smile.

Tech can't understand it. He tries his hardest, he does his best, and you always turn away.

And the more he tries, the more he feels the ache inside him grow, the more his feelings change, twisting and turning and growing, and he can't keep track of what's happening to him. All he knows is that the idea of losing you is the worst thing he can imagine, and the idea of being without you is becoming unbearable.

He doesn't know how much more he can take.

You've been avoiding him.

No, not avoiding. You've been staying away.

Or maybe, you've been ignoring him.

“She's not talking to me,” Tech admits one evening.

He's curled up in the corner of the cockpit, legs pulled up, head buried in his arms. The rest of the Batch have dispersed, going off to their own bunks to rest or to tinker or to read. Tech is usually the last to retire, but not tonight.

Tonight, his shoulders are slumped and his goggles are pushed up onto his head. He's been scrubbing at his face with the heels of his palms for the past few minutes, trying to work through the thoughts and emotions swirling in his mind.

You're not talking to him.

And yes, maybe it's because you're not talking to any of them, but it still feels personal.

You're not talking, not laughing, not doing anything, really. You’re just there, a shadow of your former self, a ghost.

Tech misses the woman who used to laugh and tease him, the one who could always bring a smile to his face and a blush to his cheeks. The woman who was a whirlwind of color and life, the one who lit up his world and made him see things differently. Who kissed him so deeply and passionately that it felt like his entire world was reduced down to the feel of her lips. He misses her warmth, her kindness, the way she touched him, looked at him.

He misses the way he felt around her.

He misses you.

Tech doesn't know what to do. He can't stop thinking about you, can't stop thinking about what he's done, what he could have done.

What he should have done.

Maybe if he'd tried harder. Maybe if he hadn't given up, hadn't let go. Maybe if he had listened to Hunter, had heard Echo. Maybe if he'd told you the truth, he could have stopped this.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

He sighs, rubbing at his face. He feels miserable, and it's his own damn fault. He's the one who ended things, who pushed you away. And he can't blame you for that, not when it was him who decided that you weren't worth it.

That isn't to say that he didn't care. Of course, he cared. He cares now. So much it hurts.

You are the person he was in love with, the only one. But it didn't seem fair to ask you to share his life, his world, when he couldn't promise that it would always be safe, that it would always be stable. He couldn't give you a future, couldn't provide for you the way a proper partner should, the way you deserve.

He could give you the present, but he couldn't offer you anything else.

And yet, as Tech sits here, head in his hands, he can't help but think that he should have at least tried. If he'd told you how he felt, maybe things would have turned out differently.

“I only ever wanted you,” you had told him once, and Tech can't believe how stupid he was to let you slip through his fingers.

Tech isn't used to feeling helpless. He's used to knowing exactly what he's doing, to being in control. But when it comes to you, it's as if he's floundering. He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to act, doesn't know what you want.

He’s tried everything, he's done everything he can, and still, you push him away.

You don't want his comfort. You don't want his love.

He doesn't understand it. You've always seemed happy around him, like his presence brings you some peace. But now, whenever he gets close, you move away. When he tries to talk, you turn your back. When he offers help, you shut him down.

Tech isn't sure why you won't accept his assistance, or why you won't talk to him. It doesn't make sense.

He can't understand, can't rationalize. And he's never felt so lost.

Tech groans, burying his face in his arms. He's being ridiculous, he knows, but he can't help the way he feels.

He misses you.

Tech misses the way your hand fits perfectly in his. He misses the smell of your hair, the softness of your skin, the sweetness of your lips. He misses the way your smile makes him feel like his heart is full, like he can take on the world, like he can conquer anything.

Tech misses the way your body feels against his. The way your fingers feel on his skin. The way your breath catches when he touches you, the way your heartbeat picks up, the way your pupils dilate.

Tech misses the way you made him feel alive.

Tech knows that he isn't worthy of your affection. He knows that he doesn't deserve your love. He's not a good man, not a good partner, not a good friend. He's not the kind of person who should have someone like you, and yet, somehow, you chose him.

But not anymore.

“I only ever wanted you.”

You said those words to him before, and they haunt him. You told him you didn't care about the risks, the dangers, the fact that he couldn't give you the future you deserve. All you cared about was him.

And he threw it away.

Tech isn't sure how long he sits there, wallowing in his misery. He doesn't move, doesn't speak. He just sits, and broods.

“Maybe she just needs time,” Echo says, though his voice sounds doubtful.

Tech shakes his head before pressing the heel of his palm into his forehead.

“She has made it clear that she doesn't wish to speak to me, or see me, or have anything to do with me."

The words sting as he speaks them. His throat is tight, and he swallows hard, trying to hold back the emotion.

"I doubt a little more time will change her mind."

There's a long silence.

Echo leans against the wall beside Tech, his arms folded. He's watching Tech carefully, his gaze piercing. Tech feels uncomfortable, and shifts, ducking his head. He doesn't like being scrutinized, doesn't like being vulnerable. He prefers to keep his emotions in check, his feelings close to his chest.

But he's finding it hard to hide them now, and his pain is obvious, even to himself.

“But she does,” Echo says finally.

Tech glances up, frowning. "Elaborate."

"She does want you," Echo clarifies, his voice gentle. "She loves you. She wouldn't have come back if she didn't.”

Tech doesn't want to admit it, but Echo has a point. If you didn't want anything to do with him, then you wouldn't have bothered to find him. You would have left, disappeared again, and never come back.

You wouldn't have risked your life for him.

Tech isn't sure if that makes him feel better, or worse.

Because it means that you do care, but it also means that you might be willing to sacrifice yourself, and Tech can't have that. He can't let you throw away your life, not for him.

Tech groans, burying his face in his hands. He's being selfish, and he knows it. You're the one who was captured, the one who suffered, the one who nearly died. And yet, all he can think about is how much it hurts.

He's been thinking about how much it hurts him. He hasn't been thinking about what you need.

"What should I do?" Tech asks, his voice small and defeated.

"Apologize," Echo replies simply.

"I have tried," Tech protests, lifting his head. "I have apologized countless times, and she does not want to listen. She doesn't want to speak to me."

"No," Echo corrects. "You've apologized for the wrong things."

"Wrong things?" Tech echoes, frowning.

"Yes, the wrong things," Echo repeats.

Tech isn't sure what Echo means by that, but his brother looks confident, sure of himself. Tech wants to believe him, but he doesn't know how. He's spent so long trying to convince himself that he did the right thing, that he did the only thing, that he can't help but doubt.

"How do I fix it?" he asks, voice quiet.

"That, I can't tell you," Echo replies. "But Tech, the first step is admitting that you were wrong."

Tech nods, letting his shoulders sag. He doesn't feel particularly good about the situation, but he's willing to try. It's not easy, admitting he was wrong. He's so used to being right, to having the answer, to knowing what's best. But when it comes to you, he has never felt so lost.

Tech thinks of the pain in your eyes, the way you flinched from him, the way you turned away.

He has to do better. He has to be better.

He has to earn your forgiveness.

"I was wrong," Tech says, his voice steady and sure. "And I'm going to make it right."

You're standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by medical supplies and overturned cots. Your face is pale, eyes wide and fearful, and Tech isn't sure what to do.

The voice of his brothers and Omega inside his head tell him you need space, but they also remind him that you need someone to look after you. That you need help. That you can't be alone.

Tech hesitates. He isn't used to this, the uncertainty, the not knowing what's best. He's never been particularly good at reading people, and even worse at knowing what they need.

He has never been more unsure than he is now.

He wants to help. He wants to take care of you, to make you feel safe, to give you what you need. But he's terrified of getting it wrong. Especially when you're standing in front of him looking like a startled animal.

You're shaking, and your breathing is fast and shallow. Your eyes are darting around the room, as if searching for something. Tech isn't sure what it is, or if it even exists. You look terrified, and Tech knows you have reason to be. The last time you were in a place like this, the Empire was holding you captive, and he can't blame you for feeling uncomfortable.

Tech has to suppress a shudder as he remembers the footage, the recordings they managed to get from the base. The screams, the cries. They haunted his dreams, and Tech can't even imagine what they did to you.

Tech wants nothing more than to run to you, to take you in his arms and promise that he will protect you. But he can't, not without permission.

Not when he isn't sure you'd even want him to.

So, instead, he stands there, watching. He keeps his distance, gives you the space you need. He's trying his best, but it isn't easy.

She just needs time, he tries to remind himself, but Tech isn't so sure.

He isn't sure if time is enough. He isn't sure if anything will ever be enough.

He watches as you stand there, your hands clenched into fists, your eyes still scanning the room. He watches as your breathing speeds up, your chest rising and falling rapidly. He watches as the panic spreads over your face, your lips pressed together, jaw tight.

You look scared, vulnerable, and Tech's heart breaks a little more.

“Cyare,” he calls out, as quiet and soothing as he can manage. You stiffen, and Tech curses himself for causing you discomfort.

He should have stayed quiet.

But then you turn, and your eyes meet his, and something inside him seems to settle.

You look so sad, so lost, and he can't help it. He walks over to you, careful and slow, making sure not to startle you. When he reaches you, he holds out his hand, palm up. He wants you to know that he is there for you, that he will not hurt you.

He will never hurt you again.

He waits, holding his breath. He's afraid that if he moves, if he speaks, you will run. So, he stands, motionless, watching as you stare at his hand.

Slowly, slowly, you reach out, your fingertips brushing his. The touch is gentle, tentative, and Tech is afraid to breathe.

Then, your hand closes around his, and he exhales.

Tech knows he's taking a risk, touching you, but he can't resist. He can't stand the thought of leaving you alone, the thought of not being able to help. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you. He doesn't know what else to do. He wants to hold you, to keep you safe.

He never wants to let you go.

You're shaking, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You're trembling, and Tech knows that this is a big step, that you're taking a chance. So, he holds you, and he waits.

Your body is tense, and Tech is worried that he's overstepped, that he's pushed you too far. But then, slowly, you relax. Your arms wrap around him, your head resting on his shoulder, and he can't help but sigh in relief.

The others are nearby, finishing a sweep of the facility. He should be helping, but he doesn't want to leave your side. Not when you're finally letting him be close to you.

So, he holds you, and he strokes your hair. He whispers quiet reassurances in your ear, tells you that everything will be alright, that he's got you, that you're safe.

He's not sure if you believe him, but he has to try.

He can't lose you again.

Tech is trying.

He's trying his best, but he feels like he's failing.

Every day, every hour, every minute, his mind is filled with thoughts of you.

He thinks about how you're doing, whether or not you're eating, sleeping. He thinks about the nightmares you have, the way your body shakes as you wake, pale and trembling, gasping for air.

He thinks about how his brothers can't seem to calm you, how only Omega is successful, her soft voice and gentle touch somehow bringing you some measure of peace.

Tech can't help but feel that it should be him. It should be him comforting you, not Omega. It should be him easing your pain, not his little sister.

It should be him.

He isn't sure why he can't seem to do anything right. After they left the facility, after you finally started letting him hold you, Tech thought things would get easier.

But they haven't.

You still seem so distant, so far away. You still refuse to eat, to sleep, to talk. And Tech isn't sure how much longer he can handle this.

He's frustrated. Frustrated at himself, at the Empire, at the galaxy. Most of all, he's frustrated at you. Not that he would ever admit it aloud.

You've been through a lot. More than anyone should have to go through. Tech understands that. But he can't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, if you'd been willing to accept his help earlier, things would have been different.

Tech doesn't mean it, not really. He doesn't think that it's your fault. He's just tired, and angry, and frustrated. 

And, if he's being honest, he's a little jealous.

You trust Omega. You open up to her. But you won't even talk to him.

It hurts.

Tech has spent the past few weeks trying to make things right, to show you that he’s changed. But you seem unwilling to let him in, to let him help.

It's infuriating.

Tech knows he shouldn't feel this way, but he can't help it. You were his girlfriend, his partner, his lover. And now, you won't even look at him.

He's trying, but he feels like he's getting nowhere. He wants to help, wants to be there for you. But he can't do anything if you won't let him.

“I’m not sure if this is a good idea,” Omega says, her voice uncertain. Her feet swing over the edge of the bunk across from him, and her brow furrows. “Won’t she be mad?”

Tech sighs, running a hand over his face. He knows that Omega is worried, but he can't sit around any longer. He has to do something.

"She is already upset. I'm not sure anything else could make things worse."

Tech tries to sound convincing, but the truth is, he isn't sure what the consequences will be. He isn't sure what will happen, isn't sure if this is a good idea. But he has to try.

“If you’re sure,” Omega replies slowly.

Tech nods, trying his best to look confident.

"I'm sure."

He isn't.

"Okay."

Omega pulls out her datapad and types the message. Tech watches as she hits send, then lets out a shaky breath. She slides off the edge of the bunk and hurries down the ramp, leaving him alone.

Tech waits, his nerves growing with each passing second.

You are going to hate him for this, he's sure.

But he has to do it. He has to try.

"Tech?"

Your voice is quiet, uncertain. You're standing in the doorway, arms wrapped around yourself, and Tech feels his chest ache at the sight.

You're here.

You're actually here.

"Hello," he says quietly.

“Where’s Omega?” you ask, your voice sharp. You step forward, and the light catches your face. Tech can see the bags under your eyes, the paleness of your skin. You look tired, worn down, and he hates it.

Tech winces. "She's not here."

"Where is she?"

You sound panicked, and Tech doesn't blame you. The last thing he wants is to make you more stressed. But he needs to talk to you, and this is the only way.

"She is fine," Tech says, trying to sound reassuring. "I asked her to leave."

You narrow your eyes, taking another step toward him. You're still clutching your arms, as if you're trying to hold yourself together. Tech wants to reach out, to take your hands, but he knows you'll pull away.

“What do you want, Tech?” Your voice is harsh, but Tech doesn't mind. You're speaking to him, which is more than he's gotten out of you in days.

"I, ah, I wanted to talk," Tech replies, his tone hesitant.

"About what?"

Tech swallows, his throat suddenly dry. "About us."

You frown, folding your arms across your chest. "There is no 'us', Tech. There hasn't been for a long time. You made sure of that."

Your words are sharp, cutting, and Tech can't help but flinch. He deserves them, he knows. But it doesn't make the sting any less. He takes a deep breath, trying to find the words.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I was wrong. I shouldn't have ended things."

You stare at him, eyes wide. Tech isn't sure if you're surprised, or just angry. He can't read you, not anymore. He isn't sure if he ever could. He's always felt a little bit of awe, a little bit of fear when it came to you. And now, more than ever, he feels completely lost.

"So why did you?" you ask, your voice tight.

Tech sighs, adjusting his goggles nervously. He's not sure how to answer that. He isn't sure if he even has an answer.

"I was... afraid," he admits, his voice low.

"Afraid of what?"

Tech shrugs, looking away. "Everything. The future, the war, losing you."

You don’t say anything, and Tech takes a deep breath, forcing himself to continue.

“I ran an exhaustive cost benefit analysis, and I had determined that the risks far outweighed the benefits. I could not continue our relationship knowing that I would most likely hurt you. In my mind, I needed to end things before they went any further. Before you were able to become attached.”

"I was already attached," you whisper, your voice cracking. "I was already in love with you."

Tech's heart stutters.

"You were?" he asks, his voice quiet.

You nod, biting your lip. Tech feels his stomach twist, a mixture of guilt and hope rising in him. You were in love with him. You are in love with him. And he has hurt you more than he ever thought possible.

"I was a coward," Tech says quietly. "I knew if we had gone any further, and I were to hurt you, it would have caused me immense emotional pain. And, in the process, I would have risked my ability to perform at optimal efficiency, and that would have resulted in harm to the rest of the squad."

Tech looks up, meeting your gaze. "I didn't want to hurt you, and I didn't want to put the squad at risk. But in the end, I failed at both."

You frown, and Tech can tell that you're trying to understand.

"So, let me get this straight," you begin, your voice strained. "You broke up with me, because you thought it was the best option for everyone involved."

Tech nods, his expression pained.

“That’s not for you to decide, Tech. I can make my own decisions. And, I decided to be with you. But instead, you made the decision for both of us, and you didn't even bother to ask my opinion."

“I knew that if I had discussed it with you, you would have tried to convince me otherwise,” Tech explains, his voice soft. “And I wasn't certain I would be able to resist your arguments."

You shake your head, an incredulous look on your face. "So, basically, you dumped me because you couldn't trust yourself to make a logical decision?"

Tech's shoulders slump, and he nods, his head bowed.

"That is correct. It is also…” He looks at his hands, his expression pained. “For all of my unique modifications, I am still a clone. I am still expendable. But you, you are not. You are more important. You are special." He hesitates, swallowing hard. "You are irreplaceable."

Tech can see tears gathering in your eyes, and he feels a fresh wave of guilt wash over him. He never meant to hurt you, but it seems he has managed to do just that. And now, he doesn't know how to fix it.

"Tech, no." You shake your head. "You're not expendable. None of you are."

"That may be the case," Tech concedes. “But at the time I could not see a future in which the two of us could have a happy life together. Not with the way things were, not with the risk we faced. So, I chose the safest option."

"But we could have figured it out, Tech. We could have found a way."

Tech shakes his head, his expression weary.

"I was not willing to take the risk. I was not willing to gamble with your safety, with your happiness. It was a decision I had to make. For all of our sakes."

You are quiet for a moment, your expression thoughtful. Tech can see the pain in your eyes, the hurt and betrayal, and he wishes he could take it all away. He wishes he could erase his mistakes, undo his actions.

"You made the wrong choice," you say at last, your voice low.

"Yes, I did," Tech admits, his voice quiet. "I was wrong. About a great many things."

He looks up, his gaze meeting yours.

"But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to prove to you that I'm serious, that I want to fix things."

"Why?"

"Because I love you," Tech says, his voice breaking.

Your eyes widen, and you suck in a breath. Tech can see the surprise in your expression, the shock. He knows you didn't expect him to say it, to admit it. But it's the truth. And Tech can't hide it any longer. He can't pretend.

He has to be honest. Even if it means losing you.

"I love you," he repeats, his voice stronger this time. "I always have. I've never stopped. I didn't think I was capable of loving anyone, not like this. But, you changed that." He pauses, swallowing hard. "I don't want to lose you, cyare. Not again. Not ever."

"Tech."

You say his name softly, your voice cracking. Tech can see the tears welling in your eyes, and his chest aches. He wants to take you in his arms, wants to kiss away the pain, but he knows he can't. He knows he has to let you decide. He has to let you choose.

You step forward, and his breath hitches in his chest. You're so close, so near, and Tech wants nothing more than to hold you. But he doesn't. He stays where he is, waiting.

You reach out, your hand cupping his cheek, and Tech leans into the touch, savoring the warmth of your skin. You're looking at him, your eyes searching his, and Tech hopes that you can see the truth in them, the sincerity. He hopes that you can feel how much he loves you, how much he needs you.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice breaking.

You nod, and he can see the tears streaming down your cheeks. Tech wants to wipe them away, but he doesn't move. He stays where he is, watching you, waiting. You're still staring at him, and Tech feels a flicker of hope bloom in his chest.

"I'm sorry, too," you whisper, your voice raw. "I'm sorry I shut you out. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry for everything."

You pause, biting your lip. "I love you, Tech. I never stopped. And, I don't want to lose you, either."

Tech's heart swells, and he can't stop the tears that come, or the smile that spreads across his face. You're looking at him with such tenderness, with such love, that he can't help but reach for you, pulling you close, wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight. You melt into his embrace, your arms winding around his waist, your face buried in his chest. 

Tech can feel your tears, wet against his skin, and he runs a hand through your hair, trying to soothe you. You cling to him, your grip almost desperate, and Tech feels his heart break a little more.

You've been through so much, endured so much pain, and he was part of it. He was responsible for it. And he doesn't know how to make it better. He doesn't know how to take away the hurt, the betrayal, the fear. All he can do is hold you, and promise to never let you go.

"Cyare," he breathes, his voice choked with emotion. "You will never lose me. I am yours. Always."

And then, you lift your head, and his eyes meet yours, and Tech can't stop the surge of emotion that rushes through him. You're so beautiful, so perfect, and he can't believe how lucky he is. 

You're the best thing that has ever happened to him, the only thing that has ever made him feel alive. And now, here you are, in his arms, telling him you love him. It's everything he's ever wanted, everything he's dreamed of. And it's real. You're real. You're here. And you're his.

"I love you," Tech whispers, and then he leans in, capturing your lips with his.

The kiss is soft, gentle, filled with everything he's feeling, everything he can't say. And when you pull away, Tech's heart skips a beat, and he wonders how he ever thought he could live without you.

"I love you," you whisper back, and Tech can't stop the smile that spreads across his face, the tears that sting his eyes. He holds you tight, and the world seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you.

He's never letting you go again.

[leonspretty]

message in a bottle

you and spencer are best friends, but you both want more

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x reader

tags: intern tech analyst! reader, no use of y/n, literal taylor lyrics as speech, academic inaccuracies (im british), rushed ending (and all throughout tbh), not proofread (it's 4:35am), season 5 reid, boyband hair reid, fluff!!!

notes: bro. the amount of times i rewrote this before i finally settled on the idea i actually liked. and as i write these notes before actually writing out the fic listning to this song im getting more ideas. hopefully this one is quite a bit longer.

wc: 1,550

"I'm reachin' for you, terrified, 'Cause you could be the one that I love, I could be the one that you dream of, Message in a bottle is all I can do, Standin' here, hopin' it gets to you" - Taylor Swift's 'Message in a Bottle (Taylor's Version) (From The Vault)

It was clear to everyone that there was something between you and the BAU's resident genius. So clear infact, that even the two of you knew it. Many times your brain had danced on the idea of confessing, or even just going up to Spencer and asking for sure if he liked you, but you already had that confirmation from Morgan through a voice message he had sent you of Spencer admitting his feelings one time when they had gone out.

At first, the thing you had found frightening was the fact that your best friend liked you. You didn't know what you were supposed to do with that information. But the more you thought about it, the more you realised that what actually frightens you is the fact that those feelings are reciprocated ten-fold, you just weren't sure on how you felt about them being out in the open to him -- and so, you found other ways to show your feelings. You wanted to ensure that Spencer knew you cared for him more than a normal friend did, but you also wanted to make sure that it could still be played off as a friendly gesture if anyone asked or if he was to find someone else.

You always thought Spencer was beautiful, both in the way he acted and especially the way he looked. When he had come in slightly late to a briefing with a brand new hair cut, it's safe to say you were hypnotized. Then when Hotch made his comment about Spencer's new haircut making him look like a boyband member, you could see Morgan's face waiting for your comment, as you had many times mentioned about how certain boyband members were attractive. But you couldn't pull your eyes from Spencer. He hadn't noticed, but when it was your turn to make a comment on the case, you were tongue-tied, stumbling over your words. This then prompted Spencer to later pull you to the side to ask if you were okay because for you to stutter in front of people like that was an extremely rare occurrence.

Realising you definitely wanted more out of yours and Spencer's relationship, you went for leaving him more obvious hints. You wanted to make sure he knew what you meant by your gifts so you'd write flirty notes and leave them on the front pages of books you'd give him, or attach little comments to the cups of coffee you'd buy him. You were sure this would work, but then work took over.

As an intern, you had certain times when you weren't in the office helping Garcia out and were instead in classes and study sessions to prepare for exams. Usually, you would try your best to help Garcia and the team from her office while also studying there, however, you had your biggest, most important one coming up, and Hotch had given you the time off to allow you to focus on it, ensuring you that the team would be just fine without you for a few weeks.

At the beginning of this break, you'd study in your apartment and Spencer would come over with take-out to help where he could and to just keep you company, you studying while he read on your couch. However, the team had been called to Las Vegas on a gruelling case, so times for you and Spencer to talk were very limited. Even when they got back, Spencer had vaguely mentioned that he had seen his mother while in Vegas and wanted to see if he could get her into another programme. You still had about a week to your exam so studying became more frequent and time to talk and hangout with Spencer became very sparse, sometimes going days without talking at all.

Eventually, your exam had passed and so came the long wait for your result. You were back at the BAU, and even though they had hit a dry spell of cases, paperwork and training did not. The mornings would drag, but when it would come to lunch, you and Spencer had decided to take it together everyday, often heading to a local cafe for an hour to talk and just have a break.

On a seemingly endless workday, a day where you didn't get a chance to stop for lunch, there was a knock at the door of yours and Garcia's shared office.

As the door opened, you both looked up, your smile immediately widening at the view of your best friend holding a tea and a bag of what you assumed was something from a bakery the two of you had found a while back.

"To what do we owe the pleasure Doctor?" Garcia's teasing tone was unmissable as she gave you a side look with a smirk, knowing exactly what had prompted the visit.

"Well, someone, skipped out on me for lunch today so I decided to bring it here, and don't worry I got you some too Garcia."

Garcia took her food and made it seem like she went back to work but in reality she was watching as you and Spencer chatted.

Spencer soon left to get back to his own pile of paperwork and you watched the door a few seconds too long after he left, your daze only breaking at the sound of Garcia's voice. "Girl. You need to tell him, I know you said you were leaving him hints but I don't think he got them, I think you need to be clear and just tell him."

The only word going through your head was 'disaster'. Not in the terms of your relationship, but in the terms of you knew you were going to go through with it and risk everything.

At the end of the work day you made sure to be ready to leave for when Spencer also would be leaving. Running a little to catch up to him by the elevator you shouted his name. "Spence, hey."

"Hi, you didn't have to run, I would've waited for you." He said, laughing a little as you regained your breath now on the elevator.

"Yeah yeah, anyway, movie night?"

Spencer's smile grew even wider than it already was as he nodded and followed you to your car when you got to the parking lot.

It took a while for you to finally gain the courage to confess. In your head as you left the BAU, you had told yourself to do it as soon as you arrived at your apartment, but that nagging part of your brain told you to be a little selfish and enjoy what could be the last few hours of normalcy between the two of you if this were to go downhill.

Two movies later and Chinese take-out on your coffee table, you turned to Spencer.

"You could be the one that I love."

There was silence.

You weren't sure why you had phrased it like that, knowing Spencer would be confused, and this was evident in his face: his eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he finished chewing his food, turning to you.

"And I could be the one that you dream of."

You cringed inwardly at yourself again, willing yourself to just express your feelings normally, but just as you went to speak again, Spencer beat you to it. "You're already the one I dream of. My every thought is consumed by you. I've noticed your hints, pretty girl, all of them, the notes, the extra gifts, which by the way, I love but you really do not need to be spending that much on me, I know how much limited book editions cost and you've bought me five in the past two months. Anyway. I am in love with you and I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier but you seemed to have a lot of work and I wanted to make sure I wouldn't add to that if those 'hints' turned out to just be friendly."

You were stunned, and your lack of response seemed to invite Spencer to continue.

"You are the one that I love. You have been for a long time. I think I've spent more time being in love with you than I have just thinking of you as a friend."

Stupidly, instead of saying anything, you just looked down at your lap. You didn't know what to say. You weren't entirely sure what you were expecting to come out of your 'confession', but Spencer's words were not an expectation in any of your many thoughts of how this would play out.

"Please say something, if I've got it wrong, please let me know so that I can leave-"

The idea of him leaving seemed to pull you from your stun. "No! Please don't leave. I'm sorry, I just never expected you to say anything like that. I played this all out in my head so many times but I never expected you to think of me that way. I am so unbelievably happy and in love with you Dr. Spencer Reid."

Cringing at the use of his full titled name, he muttered out a "Shush you," as he cupped your cheek, pulling you into his lips.

Your message in a bottle got to it's destination.

i won't lie, this is so rushed and i actually kind of hate how it turned out, but it is 4:31am and i am tired but i just really wanted to get this out. at least it's longer than my last two fics. i might come back and edit it but for now, here it is. either way, i hope you enjoyed and please send requests, the people i can write for are in my masterlist!

dividers by @cafekitsune

thank you for reading!

[chrisevansonly]

how about max verstappen x reader where jimmy and sassy act like cockblocks because they want attention? (my cat always disturbs me when im trying to work 😭😭)

okay yes i can definitely do this, animals are the biggest cockblocks tbh💀 (dw this is not super nsfw)

max sported the worlds biggest pout on his face as you watched him, your head in your hands, a teasing smile on your face as you stared at the grumpy dutch man. he was leaning against the headboard, arms across his chest, the sheet covering his lower half

“they didn’t know baby..”

“yeah well they should have.”

you laughed, your eyes closing before you looked back at him

“honey they’re cats! they don’t know any better!”

“they should!”

jimmy and sassy were practically your kids at this point, the two bengal cats being extremely important members of your family. when max had gotten home from a triple header he’d taken you straight to bed, hands dancing across your skin, lips skating across your chest, your neck and your face.

you’d both been merely seconds from the pleasure you’d both been missing and craving when the two cats jumped up onto bed, souring your boyfriend’s mood instantly

“aww my pouty boy…they’re outside the door now…”

“no.”

you crawled up the bed a bit more resting your chin on his chest

“you can’t be grumpy with our babies forever…it was harmless my love..”

“next time they should knock”

“oh yeah because cats can knock”

you watched as slowly max’s lips pulled into a smile before you both bursted out laughing, his arm pulling you into his side as he just sighed dramatically

“all i wanted was to love on my girl a bit, but no, they just have no boundaries”

“well tech-”

he rolled his eyes

“don’t. i know i should have locked them out but my brain was only thinking about you naked so..”

“max!”

he shrugged

“just being honest here baby”

you had never met anyone as sassy as max, perhaps that’s why he named one of your little cats sassy. but what you did know is that bedroom door needed to stay locked, and hopefully max’s brain could stay focused on the important task next time, cause as it was going right now, neither of you were getting lucky tonight.