#I thought I was getting somewhere with that train of thought but I didn't

[brattyspence]

safe and sound | s.reid

summary: in which post-prison!spencer finds himself so comforted by your presence that he can’t help but fall asleep whenever he’s around you. (anyone else remember that tiktok trend abt how frequently falling asleep around certain people is a sign of someone feeling safe? no? just me?)

tags: fluffy! post-prison!spence (but its not rlly mentioned in detail)(just reminding u all that man is Traumatized capital T), gun mentioned, sleeping… that’s it i think

a/n: hey idk how to follow up my last fic so here is this??? its a drabble!

word count: 651

(a very short) masterlist here

You had been sitting on your couch, laptop open on your lap as you typed away the last bit of paperwork you needed to complete for the night. The TV was playing softly, some random documentary channel you’d put on hours ago. The room was dim, only the soft lighting from the table side lamp illuminating the space.

Even though your relationship was relatively new, you were at a point where simply existing in each other's presence was an acceptable reason to hang out. You didn't need to be doing something, you were just content to exist in each others orbit. 

In recent weeks, you’d observed a new phenomenon; nearly every time he came to your apartment, he would fall asleep within an hour. 

Not that particularly you minded. Sometimes you found yourself tangled somewhere in his arms, the book you had been reading slipping from your fingertips as you also fell asleep. Other times you were so busy with work and laundry and whatever else you were up to to notice that he had been sleeping at all. 

You shut your laptop and placed it on the coffee table in front of you. It was late now, nearly 11pm. 

“Spence…” you reached over to ruffle his hair softly, hoping to stir him. “It's past 11.”

He made a slight whine of protest before fluttering his eyes open. You watched him squint at the digital clock on your TV stand. “Ugh. I'm sorry. I’m going.”

“I wasn't kicking you out,” you reply. “I just thought maybe you didn't want to spend the night on my couch.”

He sat up, rubbing his eyes for a few seconds. “Yeah, that's probably not very smart,” he replied, a slight smile creeping across his lips. “I don't know why your apartment makes me so tired.”

He did know, in fact. It was no secret that the past year hadn't been kind to him. Prison had left him changed, and touched every part of his life irreversibly, including his own home. It was stupid, he knew. He was a fully grown man, a trained agent who owned a gun and knew how to use it, and he still could never feel as safe in his own apartment as he was in yours. You were the only person in his life who didn’t see him during that point in his life. You hadn't watched him change and expected anything from him. Being in your presence was the only time there was no weight to bear.

“It's more than fine with me,” you said. You shifted across the cushions enough to tuck your head against his shoulder. “You can sleep on my couch whenever you want. But you should probably consider the bed instead, if you don't want back pain for the rest of your life.”

He chuckled softly, sliding an arm around your side to settle you against him. “I’ll consider it.”

The air grew still again. You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of his fingertips tracing lines up and down your side. Eventually you felt him place his cheek against your head. You were certain you’d also succumb to the temptation of sleep that had been creeping up on you.

“You should just stay the night,” you mumbled. 

“We both have work tomorrow, honey.”

You huffed. “But we’re so comfy right here. Please?”

“Maybe I can just get up extra early tomorrow to have time to go home…” he said. “Just because you asked so nicely.”

“Mhm. Do that.” You nodded. “And next time just pack a bag. Or I'll make space for you in my closet. Whatever will get you to stay.”

You felt him laugh quietly before he removed his arm from its position around you. He stood up before you could protest further, offering his hand to you. 

“Come on. Let's go to bed like adults.”

You groaned, accepting his hand anyway.

[homunculus-argument]

I actually really like the thing when you're starting to get the hang of a new language, enough to understand and say simple sentences but you gotta get creative to get more complex thoughts across, like a puzzle. I remember a time in the restortation school when a classmate who wasn't natively finnish but did her best anyway dropped something and sighed, telling me "every day is monday this week. I have had four mondays this week." And I understood.

I don't think I speak much of spanish anymore, but in the nursing school training period I did there, I did manage to get by with making weird Tarzan sentences. I got a nosebleed at some point and startled another nurse. Not knowing the words for "nosebleed", "humidity", or "stress", I managed to string together: "This is ok. It is hot, it is cold, I have a bad day, I am sad, I have blood. This is normal for me." And she understood.

And sometimes you just say things weird, but it's better than not saying it. One time, I was stuck in a narrow hallway behind someone walking really slowly with a walker, and he apologised for being in the way. I was not in any hurry, but didn't know the spanish word for "hurry", but I did know enough words to try to circumvent it by borrowing the english "I have all the time in the world."

The man burst into one of those cackling old man laughters that they do when something in this world still manages to surprise them. He had to be somewhere between 70 and a 100 years old, and I guess if there was one thing he wasn't expecting to hear today, it would be a random blond vaguely baltic-looking fuck casually announce that he is the sole keeper and master of the very concept of time.

[bats-and-the-birds]

I am thinking about the batkids and their rooms at the manor.

When Dick was first brought to the manor, Alfred put wooden letters that spelled out his name on the outside of the door to his room. He wanted the boy to feel like he belonged, and denoting the room as his seemed like the best way. At first, they spelled out "Richard", and were painted in red, green, and yellow -- the colors that his parents had worn for their circus act, that didn't have any other meaning yet. Dick pried them off the door and threw them away. He didn't want to accept that this was permanent yet. There were new letters on the door a few days later, blue this time, and spelling out "Dick" instead. Those letters got pried off much the same and shoved in a drawer, and they didn't get put back until a year later. He was too short to put them in the same place, so they ended up crooked, and Alfred found it too endearing to fix.

When he left the manor years later, he considered ripping the letters off the door and throwing them in the foyer on his way out. But he left them, and there they remained, crooked as ever.

Jason got his own letters when it became clear he wasn't going anywhere. He helped Alfred put them up on his bedroom door, standing on a step stool to make sure they got in the right place. His were evenly spaced and neatly aligned, and he refused to tell anyone that he cried over them that night. He'd spent months wondering if he'd ever live up to his predecessor, not just as Robin, but in the family as well. And now he had his own letters, just like Dick's, and they weren't going anywhere.

And they didn't. Even after he died. Bruce and Alfred both considered taking the name down to make walking past that empty room less painful, but in the end, they didn't dare touch the letters, just like they didn't touch anything else in the room. Years later, Jason would sneak into the manor through his old bedroom window and find his school uniforms still hanging in the closet, his textbooks on his desk, an open novel on his nightstand, and, of course, the letters still on the door, more of an epitaph than the one on his actual tombstone.

Tim fought for his name on a bedroom door. It took a while, but he trained, and he learned, and he forced himself into the role that he knew he could fill. Part of him thought that no matter how good and useful he made himself as Robin, he'd never really fill the role that the two before him did. He thought there might not be room for him after Jason's death, but he did it. He was older than the other two when Alfred finally put the letters up on his door, but he did it.

Later, when he left in search of Bruce, he didn't think for a second of taking his name down off his door. He'd earned it.

Damian's name got put up practically as soon as he got to the manor. He didn't think much of having his name on a door. If anything, it irked him a bit, being lumped in with the others, but it would have annoyed him more if he didn't get his own name. For a while, his name on the door, marking it as his from the hallway, was the only reason you could tell it wasn't the guest room that it had previously been. He had no photographs, had arrived with no personal affects.

That changed, eventually. As he gained friends, he also gained photos of them. He put up sketches and watercolor paintings of his animals. A dog bed got put on the floor for Titus. But the letters had been there from the beginning, and he grew to appreciate them eventually. His room, with the name on the door, was safe, and he liked it there.

Cass's letters showed up without much fanfare. They were simply there when she exited her room one day. "Cassandra" in black wooden letters that matched all of her new siblings'. She ran her fingers over them with reverence. She'd never been allowed to leave a mark before. Her life was predicated on being a shadow, but there was her name, in big letters, somewhere where other people could see it.

Steph had a room. She didn't want to admit it, but when she crashed at the manor, it was always in the same room. Her name was put up, and she took it down, and it was put up again, and she took it down again until it became something of a game between her and Alfred. If Steph was staying at the manor and Alfred didn't find a wooden S in a random cupboard, then have to search the house for the rest of her name, then he knew she was in a bad mood, and he usually made her favorite cookies and left them outside of the door with her name still firmly in place.

Duke's letters were waiting for him when he moved in. His name in bright yellow letters that matched his suit already in place. Of course it was, it's tradition at this point, and he's part of the family now. He had bounced around for a while now, and the letters on his door made him feel...calmer. It was a sense of permanence, and one he could learn to enjoy.

Barbara didn't need a room. She had her own room, in her own house, but Alfred still offered to mark out a space for her. She declined. When she did stay over, it was either in the cave or Dick's room, she didn't need her own. Still, that didn't mean her mark wasn't left somewhere. There was a study downstairs with a desk that she sometimes did her homework on as a child if she was staying over for the night. Now, the desk held a computer that was wired into the Batcomputer's network, a photo of her and her father, and, of course, tiny wooden letters affixed to the side that spelled out 'Barbara'.

[ohwell-itsme]

Oh, you don't understand, I grew up in isolation searching for evil in my heart so I can't be hurt saying I'm not human at all and playing dead in my room sometimes it feels like I am already centuries old but I still think of myself as a child and I'll never have enough time I was never good at lying, but I can't help thinking "if I am too earnest, they will kill me like a dog" because I've always been other, even where I'm supposed to belong, and it's hard not to be bitter, learned not to be forgiving because there's people who never change, but they do hang around and they'll say that it's good that I am passionate and unique but I can't get along because what I really am is selfish and sensitive and I think that mother is a wound that pours into you and it never stops bleeding, and love is only salt in it I'm entitled and I'm bitchy, too queer and radical, but not really, actually too passive, ignorant and escapist, wouldn't care, I mean, my mother says with full conviction that I don't like anyone, when my sister once again is firing questions about favorites and connections, isn't she wrong, though? hard to tell I still get lonely, that is for sure, I am a safe distance from everyone and they can't reach me, no, not even if we both try, because it all looks fake through my lenses, sometimes I think we're all just manipulating each other into getting affirmations, putting on masks, like it's not our nature to be cruel and we play nice to get something good in return, maybe I only ever speak when I try to get praise or throw it all up when I can't hold back no more, but who knows.

After so much time alone, you get weird, weirder than you can naturally be or get on purpose, 90% of human behaviors are annoying, things that don't personally interest me are a bother, but I grit my teeth and try to be more normal, just like I do when I agonize over myself being annoying and refuse to give in to the instinct to bolt. It is largely a pain to be around other people, I don't have the energy for it most of the time, I can't do small talk or platitudes and I am bossy in creative projects, sometimes it's more like, maybe I need to give people a breather from me so they still like me, but mostly I just sink into things to do alone, I could be alone for ages, if the immortality came with no longer having physical needs, that'd be great, I might still sometimes indulge, but mostly I'd forget to, I'd waste a few decades on games, maybe start getting into more books later, and puzzles, and just walking around, travelling when I can, maybe second or third century in, I'd be like "I should start maxing out my skills" and try learning again, it wouldn't go very well, since I like getting the general idea and saying that's enough about most topics, I would take two things seriously: experimenting in the kitchen and being overtly studious about shows/visual novels, making notes and docs and all the prep for writing I never get around to; maybe I'd get into painting too, not drawing tho, and I wouldn't try to be good either. Again, given that I don't have needs and don't have to submit to capitalism, I could actually end up writing out my stuff, go somewhere where I can be alone, with the only distraction being myself, and write, without worrying about what I have to do next, like shopping or sleeping, I could actually get somewhere like that. Maybe eventually I'd figure that learning some type of fighting and increasing my body strength is also beneficial, so I have an easier time traveling further away and partying alone. Maybe at some point I'd decide to live in the wild, at least for a while, but probably not, or at least, not in the woods. I'd try to get better at recognizing plants, but fail to memorize their names. A few centuries in, I'd start to do stupid things I used to be afraid of, because I felt like the adrenaline of it was only shortening my lifespan. I'd dye my hair every color. I still would never have sex. I'd try to become a cryptid or otherwise start an urban legend or something like that. Keep on changing my identity and trying to get famous and seeing if people will say that I look like myself. Invent a sandwich and keep on telling people like it's already known until it sticks as a classic of unknown origin. Make up words. Be an unsettling presence. Relationships already are fleeing and last a miniscule part of my life, why would I be worried about that? It's always just for a little itty bit and it's never close enough, and it burns and breaks and leaves a scar. People don't like knowing me, they like it when I'm somewhere in the orbit, occasionally popping in, showing my best face, and then I'm cool and wise and inspiring and I like how they're reacting too.

[hedgehog-moss]

I saw an astronaut walking on the side of the road today, which is the kind of thing my brain will placidly accept at first, only to go "Wait, an astronaut" a minute later once I'm done with my previous train of thought. By then I felt like it might be too late to stop my car, but I ended up stopping anyway because I didn't want to spend the rest of the afternoon wondering.

I waited for the astronaut to catch up with me since they were going in my direction, but they didn't. Eventually I got out of the car and retraced my steps, and after a bend in the road when I saw no one walking towards me I decided the visitor must have gone back to their spacecraft and I would never get an explanation for this—and then in the distance I caught a glimpse of the white space suit disappearing into the forest.

I managed to catch up with them and they turned out to be a distant neighbour of mine (let's call her M.), and what looked like a space suit when I was driving by was a beekeeper's outfit! (Sorry for the pointless suspense but I was taking you on the same little journey my brain went through.) M. was tickled when she learnt that I mistook her for an astronaut—she told me she'd borrowed her husband's too-big shoes which made her drag her feet, hence why she looked like she was having trouble readjusting to Earth's gravity.

Then she said that one of her hives had swarmed, and she was pretty sure she knew where the swarm was. I had no idea how swarming worked so as we walked in the woods she explained that when a hive becomes too crowded, the queen will get replaced by a new one, and the old queen will leave along with half of the bees. After this split, the swarm will cluster somewhere nearby and wait while scout bees fly away in search of a new hive location. "That's when you have to catch them—if you can find the swarm. But here it is!"

I wasn't expecting quite so many bees!! I'm pretty scared of all flying creatures so allow me to pat myself on the back for what came next—I thought I was about to learn how to catch a swarm from a prudent distance, but M. asked if I could give her a hand, seeing as her husband was supposed to be here to help but clearly wasn't.

The first step of catching a swarm was spraying the bees with sugar water, and I was glad not to be asked to help with that, as it seemed like something that could make bees angry. ("On the contrary, it makes them less agitated!" I was told, but that remained to be seen.) Step 2 was pulling on a rope tied to the tree branch in order to lower the swarm into the new hive, and that was the job I was recruited for. The rope was long enough that I could stand several metres away to pull on it, but my role in this swarm-catching business was still all too clear to any angry bee looking for someone to blame.

I remembered reading that bees can sense the electric field of flowers, so I thought there was no way they wouldn't sense the staticky nervousness coming from the rope-puller, but thankfully they completely ignored me.

M. was offering one fun fact about bees after the other, in a very relaxed voice, which was very interesting and very soothing for both me and the bees. She said this particular colony was very sweet ("some bee colonies are meaner than others?" "yes of course"), and that swarming usually happens a bit earlier in the year "but it's been raining so much lately, the bees had to postpone all their activities, just like us" and also "swarming involves quite a bit of planning ahead of time; for example worker bees have to put the queen on a diet so she won't be too fat to fly. Did you know that?" I did not!

Unfortunately our first attempt to catch the swarm failed. The bees entered the hive, had a quick look around their new home, then left in disgust and formed a thick, angry, buzzing cloud over our heads, while I tried to think nothing but bee-loving thoughts to make my electric field harmless and friendly.

Then one after the other all the bees returned to the exact same spot on the branch where we'd first found them. ("Because it smells like the queen" said M.) We examined the near-empty hive and found that a mouse had made a nest in there! She was no longer here but the traces of her passage were evident (some of the comb was very nibbled.)

As we were removing the supplies brought in by the mouse (sticks, hay), M.'s husband joined us and he had brought a spray bottle containing some sort of bee-attracting liquid (pheromones?) (I didn't have a close look at the bottle because I made sure to stay far away from the bee-attracting liquid, while he sprayed it inside the hive.)

He had also brought a white sheet which he spread under the tree, explaining that the bees will want to get away from the bright surface and look for darkness, thus hopefully getting inside the box. Another thing I learnt is that once the queen enters the hive, the nearest worker bees will spread the message by turning round and fluttering their wings to send a chemical signal in specific directions, which will be picked up by other bees farther away; at strategic intervals some bees will light the beacons of Gondor turn round and fan their wings to relay this scent-message until the entire colony is informed of the queen's new location.

We were more successful the second time around! This time the bees who went in didn't immediately get out again to return to their branch. Well I say "we" but I didn't volunteer to pull on the rope again, so I can't claim any role in this victory. But my personal victory was that I stood quite a bit nearer this time so I could watch everything closely, and I felt more intrigued than nervous. Bees were constantly zipping past me but it had become clear that my electric field was pure and they bore me no ill will. I was always fond of bees from afar and happy to see them do their thing in flowers in the spring, but today's adventure got me interested in their daily life as well, so I think I'll read some books about bees this summer!

I was reading last month about the morality of termite colonies (Maeterlinck's La vie des termites) and I had a feeling this man must have written some poetic stuff about bees as well—and he did. Here's a translated excerpt from his book "La vie des abeilles" :)

[fatecantstopme]

Help Me Remember

Pairing: Dean Winchester x wife!reader

Summary: Your memories have been taken from you and it's up to Dean to get them back.

Warnings: Angsty af, memory loss, canon violence, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, oral (M & F receiving), light face fucking, unprotected sex (P in V), biting (minimal), dirty talk.

Three Weeks Ago

"God almighty, what is that smell?"

You were doing your best to avoid inhaling too deeply--the stench uncomfortably strong. "Rotting flesh."

"Dead body?" Dean asked.

You nodded. "Several, I think."

"Great." Dean stepped in front of you, the instinct to protect you always foremost in his mind. He stepped through the open doorway, quickly enveloped by darkness.

You heard him grunt lowly and you stepped forward, trying to see through the darkness, but even your flashlight didn't penetrate it much. "Dean?"

When he didn't respond, you felt a tightening in your chest. "Dean?" you called again, a little louder.

The silence was deafening--sending cold chills down your back as you stepped farther into the room. "Babe? Answer me."

You took another step forward and your foot collided with something sturdy on the floor in front of you. You trained your flashlight downwards and inhaled sharply as the light illuminated a body at your feet. "Dean!"

You dropped to your knees beside him to check for a pulse, foolishly opening yourself up to attack in such a vulnerable moment.

The last sound you heard was a dark cackle coming from your right just before you were plunged into complete darkness.

Dean awoke with a low groan, rubbing his temples in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing in his head. It took him several moments to get his bearings and remember where he was. As soon as the memories clicked in his mind, he called out your name. You didn't respond and he felt a cold desperation wrap around his heart.

"(Y/N)!" he yelled as he pulled himself off the floor. "Sweetheart? Where are you?"

He was met with complete silence, making his blood run cold. He couldn't find the flashlight he'd been carrying, so he pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, shining it into the darkness around him.

He immediately noticed the stench from earlier had dissipated, as had the total darkness that surrounded him in the moments before he'd lost consciousness. His flashlight had barely cut through the blackness, but his phone was able to light up the majority of the room around him with relative ease.

The room was completely empty. Not a single rotting corpse to be seen. No cause for the smell from earlier, nor any sign of what had caused the room to be plunged into complete darkness. More importantly, there was no sign of you.

Dean immediately ran from the room, hurriedly searching the rest of the abandoned home in the hopes of finding you passed out like he had been. When he'd searched every room to no avail, his panic had risen to untenable levels.

He called your phone, but it immediately went to voicemail. He left a frantic message before hanging up and calling Sam.

His brother answered on the second ring. "Dean? Everything okay?"

"Is (Y/N) with you?"

Sam could hear the panic in Dean's voice, causing his heart to race. "No...she was with you on that hunt in Colorado."

"I can't find her anywhere."

"What do you mean you can't find her?"

"I mean, I got knocked out and when I woke up she was gone. I've searched the whole damn house--she's gone, Sam!"

"Okay, breathe. She wouldn't leave you, so she's gotta be there somewhere."

"Well something knocked me out, Sam--and whatever the hell it was had to have taken (Y/N/N)."

"That doesn't make sense, Dean. You said it was a ghost--a basic haunting."

"Yeah that's what we thought it was! Clearly we were wrong."

"Alright, alright," Sam said in a soothing voice. "I'll pack a bag and head your way--we'll find her."

Dean let out a pained sound. "Hurry."

"I will."

**********

Present

You groaned in annoyance, rolling over in bed to slam your hand on the snooze of your alarm. When the incessant noise stopped, you sighed quietly, staring at the ceiling as light filtered in through the window.

You wanted to get out of bed and go to work about as much as you wanted to get hit by a car, but unfortunately the bills wouldn't pay themselves.

You dragged yourself out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower before getting ready for work. Thirty minutes later, you were grabbing your bag and heading out the door.

When you reached the office, you sat in your car for a few minutes, gathering whatever strength you had to get out of your car and walk through those doors. You hated your job--this office life was simply not for you. It was boring, but the paycheck was decent and you didn't have any other options.

You'd only had the job for a few weeks--it would be embarrassing to quit so soon after starting. Besides, the work was easy and your coworkers were nice enough.

You sighed quietly before getting out of the car and heading into the office building. You were greeted by several of your coworkers and you said your good mornings as you made your way to your office.

The day passed by uneventfully, just as every single day of the past few weeks seemed to. When 5pm rolled around, you packed up your things and left for the day. You decided to stop and get Chinese food on your way home--the urge to cook about as far away as the country of China was.

After picking up dinner, you made your way home. As you pulled into your driveway, you noticed an old black muscle car parked in front of your neighbor's house. You thought it odd given your neighbor was out of town, but the thought was gone as quickly as it came as your stomach grumbled hungrily.

You grabbed your things and headed inside, dropping your keys and purse by the front door. You tugged your shoes off, silently cursing whoever created high heels. You sat your food on the kitchen island and went to the fridge to grab a beer.

You plopped down at the island, quickly pulling the containers of delicious food from the bag. You groaned happily as you took a bite of food--finally sating the grumbling of your stomach.

Mid-bite, you heard a noise upstairs, causing you to freeze. You listened closely, almost certain there was someone in your house. You grabbed a large knife from the knife block on the counter and made your way slowly towards the stairs.

You went up them as quietly as you could, stopping on the landing to listen for more noises. You heard movement at the end of the hall, where your office was. You made your way toward the room, holding the knife in front of you.

When you rounded the corner, you saw a man standing in your office, looking through your desk. You steeled yourself before stepping fully into the room, yelling "hey!" as you entered.

The man looked up at you and froze, eyes flicking between your face and the knife in your hand. "Woah, easy there, sweetheart."

"Who are you and why are you in my house?"

The man looked slightly confused. "It's me, (Y/N)."

"How the hell do you know my name?"

The man started to come around to the front of your desk and you stepped towards him, brandishing the knife in what you hoped was a menacing manner. The man was significantly larger than you, but you didn't feel the fear you expected to feel. You felt oddly certain you could hold your own against him in a fight--which made zero sense to you. You'd never been in a fight in your life.

"Easy, (Y/N). Just put the knife down and we can talk."

"You broke into my house, asshole. No way am I putting down this knife."

His hands were still up in the air, but he didn't seem any more afraid of you than you were of him. "Okay, sweetheart, just relax. I can explain."

"Stop calling me that--I don't know you."

The man looked hurt by your words, but he seemed to shrug them off. "Sorry, sweet--shit. Sorry." He slowly lowered his hands, waiting for you to make a move. When you didn't, he lowered them completely. "My name is Dean Winchester."

He waited for a moment, hoping to see a flash of recognition on your face--but your expression remained blank. It was like a stab to the heart, but he continued. "Your name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You're 33 years old. Your parents' names are Lily and Carter. You were born in New Mexico, but you spent most of your formative years in London. You came back to the U.S. after the death of your parents when you were 19. We met a couple years later on a hunt in Arkansas. We've been inseparable ever since."

The hand holding the knife was shaking almost uncontrollably. There was no way he could know any of those things--you didn't talk about your parents or your childhood with anyone. Hell, you barely mentioned the existence of a personal life.

"How do you know all of that? I don't talk about my family with anyone."

"You did with me."

"But I don't know you--I've never seen you before in my life."

"Yes you have...you just don't remember."

"Excuse me?"

Dean sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Three weeks ago, you and I were on a hunt in Colorado. It seemed like a routine hunt...but something went wrong. I was knocked unconscious and you disappeared. I've spent the last three weeks searching for you."

"I've never been hunting a day in my life."

"Look, I know it's confusing and I understand why you don't believe me, but I swear to you, it's the truth."

Much to your surprise, every instinct in your body seemed to believe him...to believe this man you'd never seen before, to trust the man who'd broken into your home, to believe the insane story he was telling you.

You slowly lowered the knife and exhaled shakily. "I don't understand what's going on, but my gut instinct is to trust you."

Dean exhaled gratefully. "You can trust me."

"If you're fucking with me--" you raised the knife for emphasis, "I swear I will beat the shit out of you."

Dean laughed softly. "I'd expect nothing less."

You shot him an odd look and shook your head. "You hungry? I have Chinese food downstairs."

"Sure. I could eat."

You nodded towards the door. "You first sunshine."

He walked ahead of you, making his way down to the kitchen with you in tow. He sat down at the island and you sat across from him, setting the knife on the counter beside you.

"Want a beer?" you asked.

"Absolutely."

You pointed at the fridge. "Help yourself."

Once he had his beverage, he sat back down, eyes watching you intently. You could tell there was something he wanted to say, so you called him out on it.

"It's just...hard to see you like this."

"I'm sure it is. It's uncomfortable for me too."

He winced. "Sorry, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. I've just really missed you."

You finally took a moment to really take in his features. You'd be lying if you said he wasn't the most attractive man you'd ever seen, but what really drew you in were his eyes. Sure they were a beautiful shade of green, but it was the warmth in them that made you feel comfortable. It was clear to you this Dean Winchester guy cared about you, even if you had zero clue as to why.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he answered.

"What am I to you?"

Dean inhaled sharply and his gaze drifted to the countertop in front of him. It was clear he wasn't sure how to answer that question--or if he should answer it. "I'm...I'm not sure I should answer that."

"I'm a big girl, Dean. Just tell me."

He looked back up at you, but when he opened his mouth, he didn't answer your question. "What do you remember of your life?"

"What?"

"Just tell me what you remember."

"Everything you said about my life was true. My name, my childhood, my parents...their deaths. I remember all of that. I remember moving back to the U.S....but I don't remember meeting you and I certainly don't remember hunting."

"So what have you been doing for the past 14 years?"

You closed your eyes for a moment, the memories infinitely more clear than the ones from your childhood. "I went to college and got a degree in marketing. Dated off and on, but no one had long-term potential. I had a few shitty jobs before finally landing the one at my current firm. I've been there a couple weeks, but I've got a corner office, a good paycheck, and decent coworkers."

"And do you like it? Marketing?"

You paused, considering your options before deciding to answer honestly. "It's boring, in all honesty, but it pays the bills."

"Do you ever think maybe you're meant for something more?"

You stared at him in surprise. You didn't know how he could possibly know that...you'd never shared that particular thought with anyone. You'd always felt that way--for as long as you could remember. "Yes," you whispered. "How did you know that?"

Dean smiled at you. "Because you are meant for more, (Y/N/N). You've spent the last 14 years doing more--you've saved countless lives. Hell, you've helped save the entire planet more than once."

You laughed loudly, thinking he must be joking. When you noticed his expression was completely serious, your laughter died instantly. "You--you can't be serious."

"I'm completely serious."

You scoffed. "No offense, Dean, but I've never saved anyone--let alone the entire planet. I think that's something I would remember."

He gave you a sad smile, pain lacing his gorgeous features. "There's so much you don't remember, (Y/N/N)."

The pain on his face matched the tone of his voice--and it sent a piercing pain into your heart. A pain you couldn't possibly begin to understand. "What else don't I remember?"

Dean shook his head. "I don't think you're ready for all of that, sweetheart."

This time, you didn't correct him. The pet name made your chest ache--and you had a feeling this was a common term of endearment from him. It made you want to understand the nature of your relationship. "Then just tell me one thing. What am I to you?"

Dean exhaled slowly, brilliant green eyes fluttering closed. He was desperately trying to remain objective, but it was nearly impossible. He felt like he owed you in some way and he knew he couldn't lie. His eyes met yours once again and you were stunned by the depths of emotion swimming in those green orbs.

"I feel like I owe you the truth, but I don't want you to freak out. So just...please just let me talk before you respond."

You nodded and waited for him to continue.

"Like I said before, we met a few years after you came back to the states. About 11 years ago, to be exact. I remember the first time I saw you like it was yesterday. You were so beautiful--almost painfully so. I felt drawn to you immediately, but you wanted nothing to do with me. I suppose it only made me want you more." He chuckled fondly at the memory. "You were pure fire back then. No one could control you, not that I'd ever dare to try. I think I fell in love almost immediately. You were everything I'd ever wanted, but I uh--I had a bit of a reputation in the community. A not-so-nice reputation when it came to the ladies...and unfortunately for me, you were well-aware of it."

Dean shook his head sadly. "I still don't know why, but you decided to stay with me and Sam--my brother. The three of us hunted together and sometime during the year that followed, I managed to win you over. You were crazy enough to fall in love with me--and we've been together ever since." He paused. "So to answer your question, (Y/N), you're the love of my life. My best friend, my partner, my confidante, my whole world. You're the woman I vowed to spend the rest of my life with and I'll be damned if I don't make good on that promise."

You sat in stunned silence, unsure how to feel about his revelation. One thing was for sure, you knew he was being honest. Every fiber of your being told you he loved you--every instinct you had screamed that he meant every word he said. It nearly broke your heart to have no memory of the feelings he was referring to...you couldn't reciprocate his words. As far as you were concerned, he was a stranger to you. You had no idea how to respond--nothing you could have said would have comforted him.

After several moments of silence, you finally looked up at Dean, meeting his teary gaze. "I believe you," you whispered.

Surprise lit up the handsome man's face. He hadn't been sure how you'd respond, but he hadn't thought you'd believe a word he said. "I meant every word, (Y/N/N)."

"I'm sorry I don't remember," you murmured sadly.

He offered you a small smile. "It's alright, sweetheart. I'm gonna find a way to get your memories back--to get our lives back."

"How?"

"If you're okay with it, we'll go see a friend of mine. She might be able to help."

You might be crazy for being willing to go with this strange man...but your gut told you there was no other choice. You hated the life you lived and if there was even a chance the life Dean was describing was real, you had to take it. "I'm in."

Dean smiled warmly. "That's my girl."

**********

Dean didn't explain who exactly you were going to see, but he did tell you it was quite a distance away. As such, you'd have to stop in a motel along the way.

Dean kept the conversations in the car away from the life--from hunting. He wasn't ready to explain all of that yet, especially if there was even the slightest chance you would run away screaming. He needed you to trust him and mentioning monsters wasn't likely to keep things calm.

It was late at night when he finally pulled off into a roadside motel. "It's not the Ritz, but it'll do for a night," Dean commented.

You offered him a smile and followed him into the dingy room. You tossed your bag onto the bed nearest the door and Dean immediately picked it up and moved it to the other bed. "No way in hell are you sleeping by the door, sweetheart."

You looked a little surprised, but simply shrugged your agreement.

Dean winced. "Sorry--I just worry about your safety, that's all."

You smiled. "It's alright. I get it."

He tossed his bag on the bed and sat down to take off his boots. "You can get the first shower."

"Alright, thanks." You grabbed your stuff and headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

Dean made a call to Sam as soon as the door to the bathroom was closed. He'd already called his brother and informed him that he'd found you and told him where you were headed. Sam was already on his way to you, speeding along the highway in your direction.

"Hey Sammy."

"Hey Dean. How is she?"

"She's okay. She's in the shower right now. Where you at?"

"Probably an hour out now. What motel did you stop at?"

Dean gave him the location and room number. "Call me when you get here and I'll let you in."

"Have you told her I'm coming yet?"

"I mentioned you earlier...but I'm trying to keep her as calm as possible. I don't want her to freak out."

Sam sighed. "Alright, but you might wanna mention it before I get there."

"Yeah, yeah. I will. See you soon."

20 minutes after the call ended, you came out of the bathroom, feeling reasonably clean. You'd spent more time in the shower than you'd needed to, if only to try and calm your racing mind. A lot had happened in the last five hours and you were mentally and emotionally exhausted.

When you came out of the bathroom, you collapsed on the musty-smelling bed and sighed.

"I know it's not a great place, but maybe you'll be able to get some sleep. I'm sure you're tired."

"Very."

Dean smiled sadly. "I'm gonna take a shower real quick, okay?"

You nodded and rolled over, trying to get comfortable on the rock-hard bed.

Dean eyed you warily before stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door.

You closed your eyes and fell asleep with shocking ease. Mental exhaustion was clearly a great cure for insomnia.

When Dean came out of the shower, he fully expected you to still be awake. He wanted to let you know Sam was on the way so you wouldn't be freaked out by his arrival. Unfortunately, you were clearly sound asleep and he didn't want to wake you. You looked too peaceful to disturb.

**********

You awoke sometime in the early hours of the morning, bladder throbbing uncomfortably. You got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, failing to notice the large figure lying on the couch near the bathroom door.

Your movement woke Sam up and he decided he needed to use the bathroom too. He stood up and stretched, waiting for you to come back out.

When you came out of the bathroom, you caught sight of a large male figure standing near the door. You quickly assessed him and realized it wasn't Dean--the man was too tall. Without thinking, you lunged towards him, fist connecting with the side of his jaw, sending him stumbling backwards.

He fell back into the small dining table, forcing it against the wall with a loud noise. The commotion was enough to wake up Dean, who shot out of bed ready to fight. It took him only a moment to realize what had happened.

You lunged towards Sam again, who held up his hands to block your attack. Dean jumped towards you and yelled your name, pulling you to a stop.

"It's okay! It's okay!" Dean insisted. "It's just Sam!"

You were breathing heavily, but you lowered your fists. "Who the hell is Sam?"

"My brother!"

Your mind cleared slightly as you remembered Dean mentioning Sam's name earlier in the evening. "Oh shit," you muttered.

Dean turned on the light and Sam rubbed his jaw woefully. "Nice swing, (Y/N/N).

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," you said softly. "I didn't mean to--I just reacted."

"Well it was a good shot either way," Sam said with a pained chuckle.

Dean laughed softly. "At least your instincts are still strong."

You winced a smile. "Let me go get some ice."

Dean stopped you with a gentle hand on your arm. "I'll go get it. Stay inside."

You could tell he was worried about your safety and it made you wonder what he wasn't telling you.

Sam sat down at the table and continued to rub his jaw. "It really is good to see you, (Y/N). Despite the punch."

"I'm so sorry, Sam. I didn't know you would be here."

"I figured that out," he said with a light chuckle. "Don't worry about it. It was a solid punch."

Dean came back in with a full ice bucket. He handed the bucket to Sam and chuckled. "Damn dude, she got you good."

You winced, feeling terrible for hurting him.

Dean noticed your discomfort and turned to you with a gentle smile. "It's alright, sweetheart. He's had a hell of a lot worse. He'll be fine."

Sam nodded his agreement. "He's not wrong. I'm alright."

You punched Dean in the arm in annoyance.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You could have told me he was coming!"

"You were asleep! I didn't wanna wake you."

You sighed. "Alright fine, but quit keeping things from me, Dean."

He nodded, rubbing his arm. "Sorry, sweetheart."

"I'm going back to sleep. Let me know when it's time to go."

The brothers watched you crawl back into bed and Dean let out a soft sigh. "I think I'm too awake to sleep now."

"Same," Sam muttered.

The two sat at the table in silence, allowing you to get a couple more hours of sleep before it was time to head back out on the road.

**********

"So who exactly are we going to see?" you asked curiously.

Sam shot his brother a look from the backseat of the car. Dean glared at him in the rearview mirror and the younger man stayed silent.

"A friend of ours from when we were kids," Dean answered. "Her name is Missouri."

"Missouri...hmm. Do I know her?"

Dean nodded.

"How can she help me?"

"She's uh...well she's really..."

"Perceptive," Sam finished for him.

"Yeah, perceptive."

You gave Dean an odd look. "Okay then."

"Just...trust me, okay? She's the best there is. She can help."

Two words remained unsaid, living only deep in Dean's heart. I hope.

When the car pulled up in front of the house, Missouri immediately knew who it was. She met the three of you at the front door, a smile on her face.

"What do I owe the pleasure of a visit from all three Winchesters?"

Dean froze for a moment, which didn't go unnoticed by Missouri. Nor did you miss her use of the words "three Winchesters".

You shot Dean a silent reproachful look and Missouri tsked loudly. "Dean Winchester, what did you do?"

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I didn't do anything, Missouri. I swear."

Missouri's gaze landed on your face, her expression softening instantly. "Oh honey..."

Her expression frightened you, as did her extremely perceptive gaze. It felt as though she was looking directly through you.

"Well come in you three. It's cold out here."

The three of you followed the older woman into her home. She gestured for you all to sit in the living room while she went to the kitchen to make some tea.

"Why did she call me a Winchester?" you asked Dean in hushed tones.

Sam gave his brother an 'I told you so' look and waited for his response.

Dean sighed. "I wasn't completely honest with you yesterday," he admitted. "(Y/N) (Y/L/N) was your name, until six years ago."

"What happened six years ago?" You were pretty sure you knew the answer, but you wanted to hear him say it.

"We got married," he answered softly. "You decided to change your name...and you've been (Y/N) Winchester ever since."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to freak you out. I'd already unloaded a lot of information on you. It's hard to look your wife in the eyes and realize she doesn't remember you--it's even harder to tell her what she means to you."

"But you told me how much you loved me...why couldn't you admit we're married?"

Dean shook his head. "I really don't know, sweetheart. I think I was scared you would run. It had been so hard to find you and I didn't want to risk losing you again."

Tears welled in your eyes and you placed a soft, comforting hand on his arm. "I'm not going anywhere, Dean."

He looked up at you, expression matching your own. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to your forehead, though he desperately wanted to kiss your lips instead.

"Tea, everyone," Missouri stated as she entered the living room.

You immediately took the cup she offered you gratefully. "Thank you."

She nodded at you, giving you a warm smile. "Now I know you boys don't like tea, but there's no alcohol in this house."

"I'll take a cup, Missouri," Sam said.

She handed him a cup and gave Dean a stern look. You had a feeling the expression had nothing to do with his not liking tea.

"Now why don't you boys tell me what brings you all the way out here."

Dean sighed. "You mean you don't already know?"

"Dean!" Sam scolded.

"Oh I imagine it has something to do with (Y/N)'s memories, but I'd like to hear it from you."

Surprise lit up your face. "How did you--?"

"I see your husband left a few things out, didn't he? Do you want to share, Dean?"

Dean winced and shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, well--umm...Missouri is--well, she's psychic."

"I'm sorry, she's what?"

"Psychic," Dean repeated.

You turned to look at Sam and he simply nodded. Your gaze shifted back to Missouri who gave you another sad smile.

"It's true, honey. That's why I know about your missing memories. I can see the block in your mind...and the fake memories replacing your real ones."

"Fake memories? What do you mean fake memories?"

"How did your parents die?" Missouri asked seemingly from nowhere.

"A car accident," you answered in confusion.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dean and Sam exchange glances. Missouri sighed quietly and shook her head.

You tried to catch Dean's gaze, but he kept his eyes trained on the floor in front of him, suddenly fascinated with the pattern of the rug.

"Are you saying my parents didn't die in a car accident?"

"No, dear. They did not," Missouri answered.

"But I remember--" you fell silent as Missouri's words came back to you...'fake memories'. You shook your head. "I don't understand."

Missouri gave you a pitying look. "When you were 19 years old, your parents were murdered by something inhuman. A creature known as a ghoul. The ghoul appeared to you as your mother after it had killed her in an attempt to kill you, but you realized it wasn't your mother. You grabbed a wooden candlestick off the mantle and bashed the creature's head in, managing to kill it without even knowing what it was."

You were frozen in your seat, caught somewhere between disbelief and utter terror. You pushed the terror down, allowing the disbelief to prevail. You jumped out of your seat and yelled, "You people are crazy! Ghouls don't exist!"

Dean stood up and grabbed your arm to keep you from running. "Ghouls are very real, (Y/N). That experience changed your life forever. From that moment on, you knew the things that go bump in the night were real...that they murdered innocent people all over the world. It's why you came back here...to find answers and learn how to hunt them."

You shook your head vehemently. "No, no, that's not possible. They died in a car accident!"

Dean turned you to face him completely. "We met on a vampire hunt in Arkansas. Sam and I had identified the case and we ran into you early on in the hunt. You more than proved your abilities during that case and I asked you to come hunt with us. I didn't want you to keep going alone--it was too risky."

"What are you talking about?" you cried. "Vampires aren't real! None of this is real...it can't be real." Your knees turned to jelly and you would have fallen to the floor if Dean hadn't been holding onto you. He pulled you into him and you sobbed into his chest, finally allowing your tumultuous emotions out.

Dean held you tightly, tears of his own threatening to fall. He didn't know how to make you believe any of this--it sounded insane to him and he'd been raised in the life. He had a hard enough time convincing people who had literally seen a monster that they were real--this was so much worse. You couldn't remember all the monsters you'd killed in your life, so why would you ever believe a word any of them said?

"We might seem crazy, (Y/N), but I think if you allow yourself to believe it for even a moment, you may find it's not as crazy as it sounds," Missouri said gently.

You sniffled softly and turned to look into her eyes. You were still wrapped in Dean's arms--it made you feel incredibly safe, despite the situation. You focused on that feeling and tried to relax your breathing. Every single part of you was certain Dean would die to protect you...if that was true, then the love he had for you was real too. If his love was real, then so was your relationship--your marriage. If all of this was true, then maybe what he was telling you was true...maybe monsters really were real.

Missouri saw the moment you began to believe them--your eyes showed your emotions, but it was your mind that gave you away. She could sense your belief, just as she could sense the false memories swirling around in your mind.

"A witch," she said softly.

Dean's entire body went rigid. "What?"

"The missing memories and the replacements...it's the work of a witch. An extremely powerful one at that."

"Are you sure?" Dean whispered.

Missouri shot him a glare that told him exactly how certain she was.

"A witch?" you questioned softly, pulling away from Dean to look at his face.

"My least favorite type of monster."

"Witches are monsters?" you asked.

"Most of them," he responded.

"This kind of magic is dark," Missouri muttered. "Messing with someone's memories...it's very dangerous magic. The skill needed to not only block out the real memories but replace them indicates this is a very old witch. This type of magic isn't common these days."

"Demons?" Sam asked.

Missouri shook her head. "Older."

"Demons?" you squeaked out. "Demons are real too?"

Dean rubbed your arms comfortingly. "Yeah, sweetheart, but we don't need to worry about that right now, okay?"

You exhaled shakily. "How do I know what memories are real and which ones aren't?"

Missouri stood up and took your hands, forcing Dean to release you. She looked into your eyes, gaze extremely focused. After several moments she spoke. "Your childhood is intact up until your parents' deaths. Everything else up until three weeks ago is a false memory."

"Fourteen years?" you gasped. "Fourteen years of my life is a lie?"

Dean could see you start to spiral, instinctively reaching for you to try to ground you. "Baby, baby, hey--hey...focus on me, okay? Everything's gonna be okay."

Your eyes met his and your breathing began to slow once again. His warm gaze brought you back to earth, calming you in a way only he could. You felt calm--you felt safe. "Thank you," you whispered.

He pulled you into him for a tight a hug, placing his lips to the top of your head. "I've got you, sweetheart. I've got you."

Both Sam and Missouri felt as though they were intruding on a private moment. Missouri gestured for Sam to follow her out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

"Are you alright?" Dean asked softly.

You looked up at him. "I think so. It's--it's a lot to take in."

"I know, sweetheart. I can't imagine what you're feeling right now, but everything we've told you is true."

"What happened three weeks ago, Dean?"

"What I told you before was true, but I left out a few details. We were on a hunt...a routine haunting. At least that's what we thought it was. When we got there, it was dark inside and it smelled like rotting corpses. It was strange, but not exactly out of the ordinary for a haunting. I went into a room ahead of you and I was knocked unconscious by something--I don't even remember what it was. When I woke up, you were gone."

"Could a--a witch do that?"

Dean nodded. "Easily. Especially if they're as powerful as Missouri thinks they are."

"So what do we do?"

"We find a way to restore your memories...then we hunt this witch down and find out why they targeted you."

"What if we can't?"

"Oh we'll find the witch. Don't worry."

You shook your head. "What if we can't get my memories back?"

Dean's expression betrayed his fear, if only for a second. "There has to be a way. There has to."

"There is," Missouri stated as she reentered the room with Sam in tow. "But it won't be pleasant."

"Can you do it?" Dean asked.

"I'm a psychic, Dean, not a witch."

Dean looked crestfallen.

"But I know someone who can help."

Dean looked back up. "Who?"

"Her name is Bethelia Logan. She's a very old, very powerful witch."

"Absolutely not!" Dean yelled instantly. "I'm not taking (Y/N) to a witch."

"Don't yell at me, child. Do you want her memories back or not?"

Dean started to argue again, but you placed a gentle hand to his chest, silencing him. "Do you trust her?"

Missouri nodded. "I would never send you to someone I didn't trust." She pointed at Dean. "You should know that."

Dean looked down in shame. He hated witches--hated them with everything in his soul. His hatred existed long before this moment...but now that he knew a witch had stolen your memories? He'd kill every witch on earth if he could.

"Where can we find this Bethelia Logan?" Sam asked.

"She lives in the mountains of Montana. Partially for the nature and partially for the privacy. She's not particularly friendly to strangers, but if you tell her I sent you, she'll help you."

"Are you sure she'll help us?" Dean asked.

"I'll send her a message. She'll help."

Dean looked down at you, wanting the decision to be yours and yours alone.

"You have her address?" you asked, a resigned smile on your face.

Missouri gave Dean the address and wished him luck. She said her goodbyes to the boys before sending them out the door. She stopped you before you could leave, wanting to say something in private.

"You are a strong woman, (Y/N). I have always thought that. You will need all your strength to get through this, if you choose to go through with it."

"What do you mean, 'if'?"

"The magic used to take your memories was very powerful black magic...and it will take very powerful black magic to reverse it. Such magic is dangerous for the user and for the person it is used on."

Realization dawned on your face. "Will I survive it?"

Missouri's expression softened, sadness darkening her gaze. "I don't know, honey, but it will likely be the most painful experience of your life. Which is why it must be your choice to go through with it. Yours, (Y/N)--yours alone."

You looked towards the Impala where Dean and Sam waited for you. You turned back to look at Missouri, a soft sigh leaving your lips. "Thank you for telling me."

"I love those boys like family, just as I love you, but Dean isn't like a normal man. He loves more deeply than anyone I have ever known--there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you. Don't tell him what I've told you, (Y/N). He won't let you make this choice on your own if you do...not because he doesn't trust you, but because he doesn't want to lose you."

Tears filled your eyes as you regarded the older woman. "I don't know how to explain it, but I know how much he loves me. I know what he would do for me. I need to remember why--desperately."

Missouri sighed quietly. "You've always loved that boy more than he believes he deserves, but in truth, he deserves all of your love. I've never met two people more perfect for one another--even if you never remember your lives together, I know you will love him that much again."

You nodded, allowing her words to wash over you. You knew in your heart she was right--you could see yourself falling in love with him, so it didn't surprise you that she believed it too. "Thank you, Missouri. For everything."

"You are so welcome, (Y/N) Winchester. Now go--and be safe."

You gave her a tight hug before walking away to join your husband and his brother on what would turn out to be the most harrowing journey of your life.

**********

It was a 16 hour drive from Missouri's home to Bethelia's home in Montana. You were quiet for most of the ride, reflecting on everything that had happened, as well as Missouri's final words to you. You half-listened to Sam and Dean's conversation, but your mind was elsewhere. You knew you had an important decision to make--one you apparently had to make entirely on your own.

Dean noticed your quiet demeanor and it worried him more than he cared to admit. He had to wonder what Missouri had said to you before you'd left, but he didn't want to press you for answers.

"Sweetheart, why don't you get some sleep?" Dean suggested softly. "I'm gonna drive through the night."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" you asked softly.

"We do it all the time. Don't worry," he assured you.

Sam nodded his agreement. "If he gets tired, I'll take over."

"Over my cold dead corpse," Dean grumbled.

You laughed lightly and Sam rolled his eyes. "Alright, I'll try and get some sleep."

You turned your body slightly, leaning your head against the car window. You tried to get comfortable, but the cold metal and freezing window made that impossible.

Dean noticed your discomfort, watching you shift back and forth for several minutes. "Hey baby," he said softly, getting your attention. You turned to look in his direction.

"Come here, use my shoulder." You looked up at him and he offered you a gentle smile. "I can tell you're uncomfortable."

You angled your body to lean across the seat, resting your head on his shoulder. You sighed softly, finally finding a comfortable position. You were asleep within minutes. Dean glanced down at you and smiled before placing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

Sam watched the interaction from the backseat, a mixture of sadness and joy weighing on him. He was glad Dean had found you, but he was terrified of what would happen when they made it to Montana. Sam wasn't stupid...and he knew a lot more about magic than his brother did. He knew it was going to be extremely dangerous to try and fix your memories, and he worried it wouldn't end well. He didn't want to mention his concerns to Dean as he didn't want to scare him. He knew exactly what his brother was like when someone he loved was in danger.

You awoke several hours later to rays of morning sun shining through the windshield. Your head was still resting against Dean's shoulder and he felt you stir slowly.

"Good morning beautiful," Dean whispered softly.

You looked up at him with a smile. "Mornin'." You pulled yourself up into a sitting position and stretched.

You felt Dean's gaze on you, so you turned to look at him. "What?"

"Nothin'."

You raised your eyebrows. "Then why're you looking at me like that?"

He smiled. "You're just so beautiful," he said softly. "I can't help but stare."

You blushed and looked away from him. "Not this early in the morning," you mumbled.

He chuckled lightly. "Nice try, sweetheart. You're beautiful 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. 366 during leap year." He shot you a wink, which only caused your blush to deepen.

"You're too much," you giggled softly.

He reached over and tucked a stray hair behind your ear. "You're just right."

"What did I do to deserve you?" you asked softly.

Surprise lit up his handsome face. "Deserve me? Other way around, baby."

You shook your head. "I don't think so."

He glanced over at you again. "There's a lot you don't remember, (Y/N/N). Trust me when I say I'm the one who doesn't deserve you."

"That's not what Missouri thinks."

"Huh?"

"She told me you think you don't deserve me, but she said you deserve all the love I have to give. She thinks very highly of you, you know."

The look of surprise covered his face again. "I think highly of her too."

You smiled, reaching across to grab his hand. He looked over at you with a smile. "I can see why I fell in love with you."

His heart skipped a beat, hearing your words had a profound effect on him. "I'm still not sure how I won you over, but I'll always be grateful for your love."

You leaned across the seat and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. "I can't wait to remember everything," you whispered.

He shot you a warm smile, but it quickly faded to sadness.

"Dean?" you murmured.

"I know what we're going to do is extremely dangerous. I'm no fool, (Y/N/N)...I know Missouri warned you. I don't want you to do anything out of some sort of obligation to me, okay? I would rather die than lose you."

You touched his cheek gently. "I didn't want to worry you."

"I know. I'm willing to bet she told you not to tell me anyway."

Your mirthless chuckle was confirmation enough. "For the record, any decision I make is because it's what I want to do...and I need you to respect my decision."

Tears welled in his eyes, but he nodded. "I'll try."

You shook your head. "It's not a request, Dean."

He sighed. "I know you can't remember...but I'm not good at these types of situations. I tend to be a little reckless when someone I love is at risk."

"Missouri may have mentioned that too."

Dean chuckled. "Of course she did."

Sam began to stir in the backseat, a loud yawn alerting you both to his consciousness. "We there yet?" he mumbled.

Dean laughed. "We've still got another 4 hours or so."

"You want me to drive?"

"No one but my baby gets to drive Baby."

Sam laughed and rolled his eyes.

"Did you just call the car 'Baby'?" you asked.

"The three things I love most in this world are, you, Sammy, and this car."

You laughed heartily, rekindling Sam's laughter and sparking Dean's laughter. You might not be able to remember it, but you knew deep in your soul that these two people were your family--and somehow you loved them even without the memories to back it up.

**********

It was mid-afternoon when the three of you finally pulled up in front of a small house in middle-of-nowhere Montana.

"Do you think Missouri called her?" Dean asked.

"We better hope so," you murmured, pointing at the various signs in the yard warning people not to trespass.

"Yikes," Sam muttered.

Dean sighed and got out of the car, you and Sam following close behind. Before Dean could raise his hand to knock on the front door, it opened to reveal a surprisingly young-looking woman.

"Can you read?" the woman snapped.

"Missouri Moseley sent us," Sam said quickly.

The woman's expression softened immediately. "Well why didn't you say so? Come in, come in!"

You followed her inside and she gestured for you to have a seat in her small living room. The three of you sat down beside each other on the small couch.

"I'm Bethelia," the woman said as she sat in a chair across from you. "You must be the Winchesters."

The three of you nodded.

Bethelia looked at you closely. "I see you've been touched by black magic."

You nodded slowly. "So I've been told."

"Can you help her?" Dean asked.

Bethelia hummed quietly. "I can, but I am not certain you'll want me to."

"Missouri warned me it would dangerous."

She nodded. "This type of magic is very strong. I cannot guarantee you will survive."

Dean froze beside you and you blindly reached out to grab his hand. You squeezed it reassuringly. "What do I have to do?"

"(Y/N/N)," Dean pleaded.

Bethelia watched you carefully. "You have to be willing to risk everything to retrieve your memories. As you are now, you can make new memories with the ones you love, even if you cannot remember the past. But if you choose to work with me, your life may be forfeit."

You'd spent every waking hour since leaving Missouri's thinking about what you would do. Now, faced with the question, you found you knew your answer without a shadow of a doubt. "I'm willing to risk it."

"(Y/N/N)," Dean pleaded a second time. "You said it yourself--we can make new memories...we can fall in love all over again."

You turned to look into your husband's bright green eyes, both of which swirled with emotions the depths of which you couldn't even begin to understand. "Would you mind giving us a moment?"

Bethelia rose, immediately understanding what you needed. Sam took a second longer, but quickly followed Bethelia from the room, leaving you and Dean alone.

Dean immediately rose from his seat and began to pace. "You can't do this, (Y/N). It's not worth the risk."

"It's my decision, Dean. I don't need your permission, but I would like your support."

"I can't give you that--I can't...I can't lose you."

You stood up and grabbed his hands, stopping him in front of you. "I know it's hard, but it's worth it to me--it's worth the risk. I need to remember, Dean. It's my life and if the last few days are anything to go by, then I'd give anything to remember the last eleven years with you. Anything."

He looked down at you, finally allowing the tears to slide down his face. Your heart broke as you took in his pained expression, fear evident in his gaze. "I want to remember everything about you--every moment, every heartbreak, every painful memory, every joyful second, every loving embrace. I want to remember what it's like to love you--and be loved by you."

You reached up and wiped the tears from his cheeks, and you found yourself wishing you could take away his pain. You didn't want to die, but you didn't want to live a lie--you needed the truth and the only way to get that was to restore your memories.

"I need to remember."

Dean closed his eyes and leaned into your palm. He would have traded places with you in a heartbeat, sold his soul to save you, set fire to the world to keep you out of harm's way...but he couldn't do any of those things. He was powerless to protect you and it was killing him.

"I know you're strong," he whispered. "but baby, I'm terrified."

"I know," you murmured. "I know."

You rose up on your tiptoes, gently pulling his face down to yours. You pressed your lips to his in a heated kiss--a kiss you tried to infuse with every complicated emotion you'd felt in the last several days. His body instinctively melted into yours like you were made for each other--like you'd done it a thousand times before.

When you separated, he leaned his forehead against yours, breath mingling with yours. "I need you to trust me," you whispered.

Dean closed his eyes. "I trust you."

You exhaled shakily as you pulled away from him. It was killing him, but he couldn't make this decision for you--all he could do was give you the one thing you asked for.

"I support whatever decision you make...and I love you," he said softly. "I'll always love you."

You hadn't really expected him to support you, so hearing him say those words gave you an added boost of strength you didn't know you needed. You touched his cheek one last time before walking away in search of Bethelia.

"You are ready," the witch said from the doorway, her words a confirmation, not a query.

You nodded. "Let's do this."

Sam went to his brother's side, giving him a reassuring clap on the back. There wasn't really anything for him to say, but his presence was enough to calm Dean.

Bethelia turned to address the two men. "No matter what happens, you must not interrupt the spell. If you do, you risk her mind as well as her life. Do you understand?"

They both nodded.

"It will be painful," she said to you.

"I know," you whispered.

She simply nodded and gestured for you to follow. She guided you to a dimly lit room filled with hundreds of candles. The room was obviously home to a large amount of spell work, but much of the space had been cleared to make room for a large mat in the center of the floor.

"Lie down, (Y/N)."

You did as she asked, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

"You may wait in the hall," Bethelia addressed Sam and Dean. "Do not cross the threshold. Do not interrupt the spell. Do nothing."

You turned to make eye contact with Dean. "I'll be alright."

He nodded, desperate to believe you. "I love you," he whispered.

"I know," you whispered back.

"Let's begin," Bethelia said, silencing any further conversation.

You closed your eyes and sent out a silent prayer to any deity who might be listening--a prayer for strength, for survival. It was the last coherent thought you had before your mind was overwhelmed with a blinding pain you couldn't describe.

Sam and Dean watched from outside the room as you writhed in pain, cries of agony ripped from your throat as Bethelia worked her magic.

"I can't watch this," Dean gasped out, turning on his heels and practically running for the front door.

Even outside, he could hear your screams--each one like a knife to his heart. He didn't know how long he stood there, he had long since lost count of your screams, the seconds between them all but disappearing.

Sam had remained inside, standing watch over you as best he could. Much like Dean, his chest ached with each of your screams--he hated seeing you in so much pain.

After what felt like an eternity, silence fell on the small home--a silence more deafening than any scream. Dean waited for a few moments before running back into the house, terrified of what he would find.

When your limp body came into view, he tried to enter the room--tried to reach you, but Sam grabbed him and held him back. "Dean, you can't! She's not done!"

Dean struggled against his brother's hold, every instinct dying to go to you. He watched in terror as you remained still as death, not a single sound escaping your sweet lips.

"(Y/N/N)..." he whimpered.

Bethelia's chanting had ceased, her small form kneeling beside your body as if waiting for something.

Unbeknownst to anyone in the home, a war was raging inside your mind--a battle between who you were and who you believed yourself to be. Memories were fighting for their rightful place in your mind--false and real, a distinction your fragile psyche couldn't make.

The only thing you knew for sure was your name: (Y/N) Winchester. You knew it with the same conviction that you knew gravity was real. Your certainty gave way to another: Dean Winchester was the love of your life. Flashes of moments from the past few days flew through your mind, but the ones you focused on where the memories you didn't recall.

You saw the joyful moments filled with laughter and jokes, the painful moments filled with tears and loss, the passionate moments with nothing between your bodies but sweat and desire, and the loving moments that grounded you--kept you from giving up even when life was unbearable.

You felt his love for you wash over you in waves, drowning you in an ocean of passion you didn't wish to escape from. But then you felt your love for him, the depths of which you couldn't even begin to comprehend. Whatever you'd imagined you'd felt for him paled in comparison to reality--he was tied to your soul so completely you wondered how it was possible to have lived without his memory for more than a moment.

As these memories and emotions solidified within you, the false memories began to fade away, replaced by the real ones that had been locked away in the darkest recesses of your mind. Millions of memories flooded your mind, filling the gaps in your life, making you whole once more.

Dean, Sam, and Bethelia watched in silence, waiting for something to happen. Dean wasn't even certain you were breathing, but he was terrified to ask...he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

Bethelia began to look more and more crestfallen as time went on, the minutes ticking by in painful silence. Sam's gaze was focused on her, praying her expression would turn hopeful once again.

Dean's gaze, on the other hand, was focused entirely on you--on your face. He was looking for any sign of movement, of life...anything to calm his aching heart.

An hour had passed since the spell had begun...twenty minutes of silence had stretched on after your screams had ended. They were the longest twenty minutes of Dean's life.

He had begun to lose hope--fearing the worst, but afraid to voice it. Suddenly, you gasped for air, bolting upright as you sucked in gulps of oxygen. Dean ran to you, breaking free of his brother's relaxed grip--not giving a damn if he was allowed to enter the room or not.

He dropped to his knees beside you, reaching out to grab your face. "(Y/N)? Sweetheart, can you hear me?"

Your eyes met his and his breath caught in his chest. Those sweet (y/e/c) eyes he loved so much were full of recognition--full of love. "Dean," you whispered hoarsely.

He wrapped you in a hug so tightly you thought he might squeeze every ounce of air from your lungs, but you couldn't be bothered to care. You were squeezing him back just as tightly, feeling at home in his arms.

He leaned back to look at your face again, brushing your hair back to see you more clearly. He hadn't realized how different you'd looked when your memories were gone--not until this moment. As he looked at you, he noticed all the little things he hadn't taken the time to pay attention to before. Your skin seemed to glow with love and warmth, your eyes sparkled more brilliantly than they had in the past few days, and your smile was bright enough to pierce through any darkness.

"Baby?" he asked tentatively, needing to hear the confirmation from your lips.

"I remember," you whispered softly, leaning forward to brush your lips against his.

He wrapped his arms around you again, tugging you close, and kissing you with as much passion as he could muster. The moment was so pure, so full of love, that both Sam and Bethelia were moved by it. The love the two of you shared was beyond what an average person would ever experience--incomprehensible to most.

When you finally separated, Dean leaned his forehead against yours. "You scared me for a minute," he admitted.

"I told you I'd be okay," you murmured. "Have a little faith, my love."

He smiled. "God I missed you."

"I missed you too."

Dean finally pulled away from you and rose to his feet. He took your hand in his and helped you up, your body still weak from the intensity of the spell.

You smiled warmly at the two people standing a few feet away. "Hey Sammy. Miss me?"

Sam grinned and stepped forward to wrap you in a hug. "Of course I did."

When he stepped back, you addressed Bethelia. "I can't thank you enough."

Bethelia smiled and gestured between you and Dean. "This right here? This is thanks enough. It has been a long time since I've witnessed a love this pure. I feel honored to have been able to witness it again."

You looked up at Dean as he smiled down at you. He kissed your forehead and you leaned into him. "I feel honored to be able to experience it--especially knowing what it's like to live without it."

"I know the feeling," he murmured.

"Not to bring the mood down, but I remember what happened in Colorado," you said softly.

Sam and Dean looked at you, both waiting to hear what you recalled.

"I saw you on the floor--unconscious--and I let my guard down. I was terrified you were dead...that's when she got me."

"The witch," Dean stated quietly.

You nodded. "She knew my name--knew yours too. All she told me was she wanted you to pay. She didn't explain what she meant."

"Why the hell did she target you if she wanted me to pay?"

"She had to have known what losing me would do to you--that it would hurt you more deeply than anything she could ever have done to you directly."

Dean felt a mixture of sorrow and anger. No one was going to get away with hurting you, not as long as he drew breath.

"All I remember after that was the pain...so much pain. Then I woke up in a house in a city I've never lived in before with a whole life I didn't remember. But as far as I was concerned, that was my life. It felt so real--up until the day you waltzed in."

Dean reached out and touched your face. "Anyone who dares hurt you is destined for a short life."

You'd known he'd want to kill the witch, and to be honest, you didn't blame him. Hunting monsters was your life--and this witch certainly counted as one. "We'll find her Dean."

"Damn right we will. I'll put a bullet right through her skull. See how she likes having her mind messed with."

You placed a gentle hand to your husband's arm, trying to calm him. "For now, let's just focus on the good things. I have my memories back and I'm with you. That's what matters."

Dean nodded and offered you a weak smile. "You're right, baby. You're right."

You turned to Bethelia with a smile, thanking her once again, as did Sam and Dean. You were surprised when Dean gave the witch a hug--he wasn't an affectionate man by nature, especially with strangers, but she'd saved your life in his estimation...so she got a pass.

"You're the only witch I've ever liked," Dean commented as the three of you prepared to leave.

Bethelia laughed. "There are others like me out there, I can assure you. We're not all monsters, hunter."

Dean nodded. "Perhaps not."

You grabbed his hand and tugged it gently as you started toward the Impala. "Come on, handsome. It's time to go."

The three of you piled into the car, waving goodbye to Bethelia as you pulled away.

"I'm so ready to go home," you mumbled with a yawn.

"Me too, baby."

"Me three," Sam added.

"Do you want to stop at a motel to rest?" you asked softly.

Dean's gaze rested on your face, drinking it in like he was scared he'd forget it. "Not a chance, sweetheart. I wanna get you home as quickly as possible."

The hungry look in his eyes belied his hidden meaning and you silently hoped Sam didn't notice. "Try not to drive too fast," you teased.

"I would never," he said in mock offense. He pressed firmly on the accelerator and the Impala shot down the road at an assuredly illegal speed.

You laughed and shook your head, knowing full-well Dean would get you home in one piece, even if it was a little faster than it should be.

**********

Fourteen hours later, you were back home in your beloved bunker in Lawrence, Kansas. What should have taken nearly sixteen hours, was shortened by Dean's intense desire to get home.

"Oh I missed this place," you said with a smile as you entered.

"You didn't even remember it existed until a few hours ago," Dean chided.

"I missed it without even knowing what I was missing...kinda like I missed you," you teased back.

He smiled, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. "Not nearly as much as I missed you."

You leaned back into him. "That could be because you actually remembered me."

"There's not a chance in hell I could forget you." He pressed gentle kisses to your neck down to your shoulder.

"As happy as I am to have you back," Sam interrupted. "Could you two get a room?" His voice was light and teasing, which made you laugh.

"Oh come on, Sammy--it's nothing you haven't seen before," Dean said with a grin. "Just a man loving his gorgeous wife."

Sam rolled his eyes affectionately. "I'll go get my noise canceling headphones. You two have fun getting reacquainted."

You watched Sam walk off towards his bedroom, a small smile playing on your face.

"So you think we should get...reacquainted?" Dean murmured against the shell of your ear.

"Aren't you exhausted from all the driving?"

"I'm never too tired for you, baby."

You turned around to face him, leaning into his strong body. "I think you should take me to bed then, Mr. Winchester."

"It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Winchester." Dean slipped his arms under your round bottom, lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He held you closely as he carried you towards your shared bedroom.

As he made his way to your room, you spent every second pressing kisses to his face sweetly, tangling your fingers in his short hair.

"You better stop that or I might take you right here on the table," he growled lowly.

"It's not like we haven't before," you giggled.

Dean groaned. "I don't wanna scar Sam for life--otherwise, I'd have you on every surface in this damn bunker."

"Maybe later then," you murmured as you kissed his neck affectionately.

Dean moved more quickly, the need to get you into his bed becoming overwhelming. As soon as he made it into the bedroom, he kicked the door closed, pressing you against it as he attached his lips to yours hungrily.

You gasped slightly before returning his passionate kiss. You tugged on his jacket, silently begging him to remove it. He pulled away just long enough to rip his jacket and flannel off before kissing you again.

His strong hands slid up under your shirt, moving upwards to tug it off over your head. His lithe fingers unsnapped your bra with practiced ease and pulled it forward to reveal the swell of your breasts.

"I've missed these," he murmured, lips immediately finding their home between the valley of your breasts. He took his time nipping and sucking at each one, playing with your nipples just the way you liked.

Your fingers dug into his scalp as you held him close to you, reveling in the feeling of his lips on your body. Your core pulsed with aching need, but you ignored it as best you could. You didn't want to rush him...not after all this time apart.

Dean loved how soft you felt against his toned form--he couldn't describe how much he'd missed touching you so intimately. This wasn't the first time the two of you had been torn apart from each other, but it had been the toughest time for him.

He felt your soft hands clutching at his shirt, desperate to remove it. Dean smirked against your skin before turning around and tossing you onto the bed. He tugged his shirt off over his head and threw it across the room, giving you a clear view of his impressive torso.

He started to climb onto the bed, but you stopped him. "Pants too, please."

He chuckled. "Impatient, are we?"

You shook your head. "I just want to see your perfect body on display--just for me."

He raised his eyebrows, but did as you asked, removing his pants slowly, eyes locked on yours.

You could see his hard member straining against his boxers, practically begging to be touched. You crawled across the bed, coming closer to him, eyes trained on your target.

"Whatcha doin' baby?"

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, tongue darting out to dampen your lips. "Wanna taste you."

Dean exhaled sharply, but there was no way he was going to say no to your request. He watched as you rolled over onto your back, head hanging off the edge of the bed. His breath caught in his chest as he realized your intentions. "You sure?" he whispered.

You grinned cheekily. "Come on pretty boy--use me."

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, quickly ridding himself of his last article of clothing. He gripped his large cock tightly in his right hand and stepped forward. He tapped against your mouth gently. "Open wide, sweetheart."

You happily obliged, mouth opening as wide as you could to accommodate his size. He slid slowly into your warm, wet mouth, groaning softly at the feeling.

You made a little noise of pleasure, wrapping your hands around his muscular thighs to get more comfortable and pull him even closer to you.

Dean's motions started out slow, but he quickly lost himself in the feeling of you, listening to the delicious sounds you were making. Within moments, he'd begun fucking your face properly, obscene sounds escaping his lips.

"Fuck--that's it baby. S-so good for me."

You moaned happily, fingers digging into his skin as you continued to take him deep in your throat. He leaned forward to grab at your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples as he thrust, which only increased your enjoyment.

Dean felt his orgasm quickly approaching, but he wasn't ready to cum just yet. He eased his cock out of your mouth and took a step back, chuckling softly at your whine.

"Don't worry, baby--I'm nowhere near done." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your messy lips before rising back up to his full height. "Get comfortable, sweetheart--it's my turn."

You quickly rotated your body so your head rested comfortably on the pillows at the head of the bed. Dean wasted no time joining you on the bed, quickly unsnapping your jeans before pulling them off along with your panties.

He wedged himself between your legs, lowering himself to lie flat on the bed. He inhaled deeply, face mere inches from your aching pussy.

"You smell delicious, baby--can't wait to taste you."

Dean's tongue slipped out of his mouth, running a thick stripe up your pussy before sliding between your lips to begin his assault.

Your hips shot off the bed, causing Dean to lay his arm across your abdomen to hold you in place. He didn't want you to be able to squirm away while he gave you as much pleasure as he could.

Your fingers entwined in his hair as he ate you out like it was the last thing he'd ever do. It felt so incredibly good and your moans of pleasure spurred him on.

"D--feels s-so good."

He moaned into your core, the vibrations making you cry out in pleasure. He sped up his ministrations, years of practice with you making him an expert on your body.

"So close," you whimpered.

Dean slipped two fingers inside of you, curling them to press against your g-spot rapidly. Within moments, your orgasm crashed into you with violent intensity, hips jacking off the bed despite Dean's attempts to hold you in place. He kept up with your movements, not stopping until you pulled him up by his hair.

He licked his lips with a smirk, enjoying the lingering taste of you. His normally bright green eyes were dark with arousal as he looked at your blissed out face. He hovered over you, eyes scanning your face as if to memorize every inch of it, before leaning down to kiss you deeply.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer to you. You loved the feeling of his strong body against yours, enjoying the warmth emanating from his heated skin.

"I need you, (Y/N/N)," he whispered against your lips. "Please."

"Wanna feel you inside me, Dean--make me forget my own name."

He growled lowly. "I can do that for you, baby. Only thing you'll be able to say is my name."

You moaned softly, lifting your hips to press against his, earning a sharp inhale from his lips. He slipped his cock in between your folds, entering you completely with one harsh thrust.

You cried out at the feeling of fullness, slight pain mixing with the pleasure. No matter how many times you'd made love to this man, he never failed to make you feel incredible. Every time was like the first time in the first few moments, before quickly morphing into an unforgettable experience with someone who knew your body better than you did.

"Move baby--please," you begged.

He always waited for a few moments, never wanting to cause you any undue pain, but as soon as those words left your mouth, he began to thrust into you in earnest.

"Shit, sweetheart--missed this sweet little pussy. Squeezing me so good, feels like heaven."

"Harder, Dean--please."

Dean shifted his body to give you what you needed, thrusts now deeper and faster than before. His fingers dug into your hips so tightly that bruises were sure to appear.

Your moans reverberated throughout the room, spurring Dean on. His own noises were absolutely sinful--and you loved hearing them. Your nails dug into his muscular back, trying desperately to ground yourself in the sea of pleasure.

You felt your orgasm approaching and you voiced as much to Dean, who was already well-aware.

"Want you to cum for me, baby. I wanna feel you make a mess on my cock."

You whimpered, clinging to him tightly as he continued his measured thrusts. "Dean..."

"I've got you, gorgeous. Let go for me."

You cried out in pleasure as your second orgasm washed over you, body shaking beneath his, waves of pleasure overwhelming your senses.

Dean worked you through your high, waiting until your body stopped shaking before gently rolling you onto your stomach. You tried to lift your hips to accommodate him, but he gently pressed you back down into the mattress.

"I've got this baby girl, just get comfortable."

He slid into you, laying his body on top of you, covering you like a heated blanket. The angle of his thrusts instantly sent you spiraling--body trembling beneath him.

"Fuck, sweetheart--how's this pussy still so fuckin' tight?" he growled in your ear.

You were clenching him tightly, intense pleasure slamming into your core with each thrust he made. You could hardly breathe--the pleasure already so blinding.

"You're close again, aren't you? I can feel it, baby," Dean murmured against your neck.

You couldn't do anything other than moan and whine as he fucked you deeper into the mattress. He was right--you were on the brink of another blinding orgasm.

"I wanna fill this sweet pussy up, baby--but I can't do that until you cum for me."

You whimpered softly, Dean's thrusts continuing.

"Tell me what you need, sweetheart."

"Don't stop--" you gasped.

Dean continued his motions, not changing a single thing. He knew you were close--all you needed was a little push. His lips were so close to your shoulder, brushing softly against your skin. On a particularly hard thrust, Dean bit into your shoulder blade, drawing a scream of pleasure from your throat as you came around him.

He slowed his motions, not quite ready to cum, but not wanting to stop. He kissed the bite mark gently, making sure you felt his love for you in each kiss.

When you'd come down from your high, Dean eased you onto your back, cock still buried deep inside you. He began slow, gentle thrusts, waiting for you to refocus on him.

After several moments, your eyes finally met his and he smiled warmly. "There you are."

"Dean..." you whispered.

"I'm right here, baby."

"Want you to fill me up," you begged softly.

Dean groaned. "You keep squeezing me and looking at me like that and I'm a goner."

You gave him a weak smile and clenched your pussy as tightly as you could. He gasped softly, hips stuttering slightly.

"Cum for me, Dean--please."

"Gonna f-fill you up, baby...s-so close."

You wrapped your weak legs around him, holding him against you. You placed a gentle palm against his cheek, forcing him to continue looking at your loving expression.

His thrusts had become sloppy and his breathing labored. A few more thrusts and he exploded inside of you, cries of pleasure leaving his lips as he filled you up. His spend leaked out of you as his thrusts began to slow to a halt, lips pressing into your sweaty skin in gentle kisses.

"I love you," he whispered repeatedly. "So, so much."

Finally, Dean collapsed on top of you, softening member still inside of you. The two of you laid like that for several minutes, entangled together comfortably. You held him tightly, almost afraid to let go.

Dean slowly began to lift himself off of you, leaving you cold and empty. You whimpered softly, reaching for him as he got off the bed.

He turned to you and smiled. "I'm coming right back, baby. I promise."

He moved slowly towards the sink in the corner of the room before returning with a warm, wet washcloth to clean your mixed spends from between your legs. Each touch made you shiver, but his gentle voice grounded you.

"I've got you, baby. Almost done."

Once he'd finished, he tossed the washcloth across the room before crawling back into bed with you. He laid down beside you and tugged you into him. You angled your body to lay your head on his chest.

The two of you laid in silence for so long you began to wonder if he'd fallen asleep. He had to be tired after that drive and the exertion of your love making, so you didn't blame him.

Just as you began to drift off to sleep yourself, you heard Dean's soft voice. “Babe? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” you said softly.

“Do you want that normal, apple pie kinda life?”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head against his chest. “Absolutely not."

“Really? Not even a little?”

You looked up at him, expression softening. “Not even a little. I happen to love our life. I love living in a weird underground bunker. I love driving all over god’s green earth in our ancient Impala. I love staying in seedy motels and eating shitty diner food. I love saving people and hunting monsters. Do you know why?”

He shook his head.

“Because I get to do it all with you.”

He smiled at you, gaze exceptionally tender.

“I couldn’t ask for anything better than this beautiful, messy life of ours.”

He leaned in to kiss you sweetly. “I love you so damn much, baby.”

“I love you too, Dean Winchester. Always.”

You settled back against his warm chest, listening to the solid beating of his heart. You knew tomorrow would bring another battle, another problem to solve, but for right now, you were exactly where you needed to be--in the arms of the man you loved with all your soul, feeling safe and loved...finally home.

[megalony]

You Called My Wife?

This is a new Jake Seresin imagine, my first request for Jake and I hope you will all like it. Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro

Masterlist

Summary: The Dagger squad don't know much about Jake's personal life. And when he gets hurt during an exercise, they are surprised who comes to look after him.

Enjoy.

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Reaching into his back pocket, Jake pulled out the pair of sunglasses he had been carrying around with him for the last few weeks. The sun here back at home was intense and he couldn't stand the migraines it gave him. Even when he was up in the air, he often had his sunglasses on. He didn't care about the way the glasses pinched his ears or gave him splitting pains in the sides of his neck.

If Bob could wear his prescription glasses to see, then Jake could wear his sunglasses to stop him squinting so much and relieve the headaches he got that were becoming chronic.

His hands fell to his hips once his visors were perched on the bridge of his nose and he looked around.

It hadn't taken Jake nearly as long as he thought to complete his physical. They were doing physical assessments and training every other day to get them ready for their next assignment. They were going to be going against gravity, travelling up to G9 range and it would cause problems with breathing, taking in oxygen and could starve their brains for a few seconds, if not longer.

They all needed to be at their best physically and mentally to prepare for this and up to now, Jake was ready and rearing to go.

Today was training exercises on the ground rather than in the air. They were all doing different activities and now that Jake was rejoining the rest of the squad after his physical, he was supposed to be doing safety and maintenance checks.

He took a look around the open air field. Bradley was over to one side, looking like he was trying to do some physical exercises, but he kept stopping to quietly argue with Maverick who was following him around like a dark, looming shadow. Jake wasn't going to be going over there. He noticed Phoenix and Bob were at their aircraft in the middle of their maintenance. While Coyote was off to one side doing pushups; he had messed up somewhere if that was his punishment. And Jake had already passed Fanboy who was on his way for his own physical.

He busied himself finding one of the clipboards and he jogged over to his aircraft, smiling and patting his hand against the bulk like it was an old friend he was meeting up with.

He circled the aircraft like a vulture, checking the wings, the engines- which had had a run in with a flock of birds two days ago which Jake had been lucky hadn't completely ruined his left engine. He checked the wheels and made sure they were all clipped and chained down so the craft wasn't going anywhere without him.

Once all the outside checks were done, he climbed up the ladder and hopped inside.

It always felt weird to sit in the plane without his proper flight suit or his signature red helmet, but he wasn't going anywhere today. He was only turning the engine on to check everything was working and making sure he got all the right responses to show he would be ready for whatever training exercise he had to go out on next.

He slouched back in the seat, spreading his knees apart with the clipboard in front of him and the pen twisting between his fingers.

After ticking a few boxes, Jake tilted his head back and poised the pen behind his ear while his hand shifted to undo the first button on his uniform. He slid his hand beneath his shirt until his fingers found the familiar silver chain hanging around his neck.

He imbedded the ring into his palm that hung on the end of the chain, always tapping and jostling against his chest whenever he moved.

It felt safer to have his wedding ring on his chain rather than his finger. If he had any accidents and needed to be taken for a scan or for surgery, they would cut his ring off. Rings got in the way, jewellery got in the way and got lost but a chain around his neck was private and secure and more importantly, Jake had that ring as close to his heart as possible.

A soft look crossed his face as he brought his hand to his mouth and kissed the ring that had created a halo indent in the centre of his hand.

"I'll be home soon." He murmured against the ring as a picture of (Y/n) flashed before his eyes.

The last deployment Jake had been on had almost killed him. Three and a half months away from home. Three and a half months where he couldn't see, touch or feel his wife in his arms or have her lips against his or her body pressed up against his own. All he got were a few brief phone calls or five minutes of faceTime every other day, if he wasn't being shipped straight out from dawn until dusk.

He was much happier here where he could spend each night in his own bed, safe in his home with his wife. He didn't have to sleep alone or feel like he was going insane from having absolutely no physical touch or contact with (Y/n). Never before had Jake thought or believed in having withdrawal symptoms for another human being until he got married and had to face the prospect of leaving (Y/n) behind.

When he was done with his checks, Jake heaved himself up to his feet and climbed down back to level ground again.

He waved his clipboard up and down in front of his face like a fan, relishing the slight breeze it created to his melting skin. If he were back home in this heat his shirt would already be off and he would be lounging around in a pair of shorts. Or be would be on the beach in this weather. Either of those thoughts sounded very appealing right now.

He stood still for a few moments, taking in his surroundings and wondering what the next task would be, but his mind kept wandering off to the girl waiting at home for him. Exactly where he wanted to be right now.

"Bob, are you almost done?" Phoenix tilted her head back with an exasperated sigh, one hand clamped around her hip as she the other held onto the ladder Bob was perched on top of.

He was filling up their aircraft with fuel, they had half a tank but it was better to be safe than sorry because they didn't know how long they would be out on their next flight exercise. The last thing they needed was to be marked down and sent to do two hundred push ups because they thought half a tank would be sufficient.

"Almost." His voice was as passive as ever while he swiped his arm across his temple, wiping away the beads of sweat glistening in the afternoon sun.

"Bob, come on we've got other stuff to do."

He didn't know what happened.

One moment Bob was pushing his glasses further up his nose, rolling his eyes at his impatient partner calling up the orders below him. But the next, a shockwave was rattling up the ladder he was perched on and set him off balance.

His hands scrambled to steady himself before he fell off and he subsequently dropped the fuel line that had been in his right hand just as he unclipped it from the air craft that was now fuelled up. Bob scrambled for balance, bashing his legs into the side of the plane and earning a cut down his left forearm that scraped along a jagged edge on the ladder.

But it was the fuel line he was concerned with. It wasn't like filling up a car at the fuel station. The air crafts were large with tanks high up at the back. They had to use large funnel lines that looked like double sized garden hoses with a large round metal clip on the end the size of Bob's hand. That metal created a sizzling sound that sliced through the air when he dropped it.

The line swooped through the air like a bird trying to land but Bob could of cried when he heard a sickening crunch below him. He didn't want to imagine what it collided with- who, it collided with. His eyes snapped closed and he clung to the ladder, trying to gain his balance back so he didn't fall and break an arm or a leg.

The resounding crack echoed around the base and shuddered through everyone within close range. It was a sound no one expected to echo through the open air like that, it travelled far and wide and had everyone coiling in on the spot.

The metal end of the fuel line pelted down, gaining strength and speed as it swung past the ladder, lifted slightly into the air and smacked straight into the right side of Jake's head. Upon impact, his sunglasses snapped and flung off his nose and took flight on a course of their own, six feet across the base.

An awful crack shuddered through Jake's ears and rattled through his head as his eyes automatically snapped closed and his shoulders hunched up. Both arms recoiled into his chest as his clipboard slipped through his fingers that twitched and spasmed, unsure what to do as his body seemed to shutdown and recalibrate all at once.

The force sent his head snapping backwards until his neck got whiplash and his body followed his head's sense of direction, thrusting backwards until he landed harshly on the concrete floor.

Shockwaves rattled through his body causing his legs to shake and spasm out against the floor as if he was kicking and throwing a tantrum and all the air left his lungs when his back hit the floor. It took a few seconds for his diaphragm to loosen and allow his lungs to take in a deep breath, but when he did, a choked moan escaped his lips.

It felt like he'd been shot in the head.

He could feel his pulse throbbing through his temple and circulating all around the circumference of his head like someone pelting round a relay race. He could feel his veins throbbing and the blood steadily trickling down the right side of his face. The feeling of blood oozing down the bridge of his nose and around his eye socket made his nose scrunch up in disgust.

His hands curled and twisted against his chest, desperate to move but the sudden onset of trembling in his bones made it impossible for Jake to coordinate his body properly.

The trembling continued even as Jake suddenly realised he couldn't hear anything around him. He couldn't open his eyes. No sounds broke through the static barrier building up in his ears. He had no control over moving a single part of his body. It felt like his head had been severed from the rest of his body.

"Jesus Bob, what the Hell?!" Bradley spun on his heels and made into a sprint towards the three of them, Maverick hot on his heels.

The sight of Jake, laid out on his back, body overwrought with trembles and blood pooling steadily down one side of his face was a sickening sight none of them ever wanted to witness.

"I wasn't- didn't you see the ladder?" Bob hissed like a snake as he shakily slid down the ladder onto unsteady feet.

His hands began to rake up and down his thighs, wiping the sweat onto his trousers as his glasses started to fall down the bridge of his nose. He hadn't done that on purpose. He didn't just let go of the fuel line; Phoenix bashed into the ladder and knocked him off course. He would have fallen if he didn't scramble for his balance. It could just as easily have been Bob's head split open if he fell the other way or completely lost his footing on the ladder.

"I'm sorry-"

A groan spluttered past Jake's lips and stopped all their ramblings. He managed to curl his fingers around the middle of his shirt and he scrunched it up in his fists as tightly as possible. His legs continued to thrash against the floor but when he tried to open his eyes, he couldn't seem to do it.

"Oh God." He tried his best to reach his hand up towards his head but he could barely lift either arm from trembling against his chest.

Without his glasses that had been broken and flung off somewhere on the base, the sun was beating down on him with unwavering strength. His right eye was blinking furiously to try and stop the blood from getting into his eyes that were rolling to the back of his head that was pounding like a drum.

"Everyone shut up." Maverick's voice snapped through the air like a whip and stopped all their ramblings at once.

He crouched down beside Jake with Bradley on his other side with Bob and Phoenix hovering anxiously in the background and Coyote running over at the sound of commotion.

The wound looked bad. Maverick tilted Jake's head back and tried to touch his hairline to get a proper look. A large slash line went from his hairline towards his eyebrow and the skin had been split apart so neatly it looked like it had been cut with a sharp knife. Blood oozed out in every direction and splattered across Jake's temple and down his nose towards both his eyes like a jam donut had been tossed at his head.

He couldn't see his skull or any bone which was a good sign, but the blunt force could have been enough to crack his skull and give him a fracture. He most definitely had a concussion which meant he could have side effects.

He could start throwing up, he could black out or go fully unconscious, he could have a seizure if the impact was bad enough.

"Get him down to the medbay now." With a click of his hand over to the left, Coyote hurried forward and knelt down behind Jake while Bradley shuffled forward.

The pair of them carefully took one of Jake's arms each and looped them around the back of their necks.

"Alright, up. Let's get you up Hangman." Bradley looped his right arm around Jake's waist while his left hand gripped Jake's wrist. He held his breath and slowly pushed up onto his feet, slowly pulling Jake with him who looked very worse for wear.

Jake's head flopped forward as soon as he was sitting up. He groaned again, spluttering through a moan, spit forming on his lips and blood still trickling down his face. He could feel the shock setting in because even his neck was shaking now and once he was on his feet, his knees wavered and his legs felt oddly heavy and useless. He could barely stay upright and when his knees gave way, he slumped down like he was trying to sit on an imaginary chair.

His hands scrunched down around Coyote and Bradley's shoulders as each of them held his waist and kept him up on his feet.

Both Jake's feet bent awkwardly and the toes of his shoes scraped against the floor as the pair of them dragged him slowly towards the open hanger doors. He tried to move his legs and he did somewhat help them, but he relied on them to drag him along because he felt like collapsing to the floor and curling up into a ball.

He managed to find the will to open his eyes once they were inside, but the sight of the tiled floor disappearing and all the lines blurring before his eyes made his head swoon.

He found his eyes rolling around in his skull before he jolted forward with a croaky "Gonna puke."

True to his word, Jake tossed up his lunch the moment the boys paused in their quick shuffle towards the medbay. He felt a little better after that and he managed to lift his head once the three of them began their awkward tandem walk together.

By the time they were near the medic bay, Jake managed to place one foot in front of the other. He did an awkward walk and started to help them so they didn't have to heave him the whole way there.

"We've had an accident. The fuel line cracked Hangman straight in the temple and knocked him out. He threw up on the way down here." Bradley looked between the two medics idling around and waited for one of them to point towards the bed in the left corner of the large bunker space.

They trotted to the left and turned around, carefully easing Jake down until he was sat in the middle of the bed.

He felt more alive and a bit better once he was sat down. His head flopped back until the base of his head was touching the back of his shoulders and his shaking hands gripped the edge of the bed with intensity to keep himself sitting upright. It took all his effort to stop himself trembling and he tried to take deep breaths to ward off the sickness and the wave of dizziness that overwhelmed him.

"Okay Seresin, let's take a look."

Coyote and Bradley backed up until they were stood to one side. Neither of them fancied going back outside to finish off their exercises when Jake didn't look in his best shape. They would rather wait here to make sure he was alright and then head back to the rest of the team and tell them how he was fairing up. It was clear that Jake would be going home early today, he was lucky not to have been killed with that force, there was no way he was carrying on with any work today after this.

Jake begrudgingly lifted his head when one of the doctors stood in front of him. He let the man hold his chin and tilt his head from side to side to assess the damage and when he shone a pen light across his eyes, Jake winced.

A frightful yelp left his lips when the man tried to touch the wound and he reeled back with a groan.

"Afraid I'm gonna need an X-ray before I can stitch it. I'll clean the wound and get you some painkillers first." They were lucky the wound was on his head as they had a small, portable X-ray scanner in the back room they could use just to double check they didn't have to send him to hospital for urgent treatment. But if it looked okay, he could get some pain relief, be stitched up and sent home for the day.

"Great." Jake winced, trying to form a lopsided smile, but he couldn't quite manage it.

At least he would get to go home earlier than he thought.

***

"Hey," Bob groaned as sweat dripped off his body and onto a small puddle forming on the stone beneath him. His arms trembled as he tried to continue his push ups now that he was well into the hundreds. "Who's that?"

He nudged his nose against his shoulder to push the glasses further up his nose while he indicated his head to the left, signalling Phoenix's attention towards the person advancing across the base.

Maverick had told Bob and Phoenix to finish off Jake's safety checks, prep his fuel tank too and then do a set of two hundred push ups. They both knew they should have been more careful and they shouldn't have started squabbling like children when Jake was hauled off to the medic bay.

Phoenix lifted her head and glanced her eyes around, trying to find out who Bob was referring to. When her eyes set on a woman walking their way, her brows furrowed and she watched where she was walking.

She wasn't in uniform, whoever she was. She had on a baby blue tank top and a pair of denim shorts that stopped just before her knees. Her bag was hung on her shoulder, the strap clutched tightly in her hand and there was a nervous look plastered across her face.

The woman seemed to spare them a glance, noting that they were both sweating through their uniforms, before her eyes set on Maverick and she made a beeline for him.

"Mav, where is he?" (Y/n) bit her lower lip nervously when she reached Maverick who greeted her with a warm smile and a hand on her elbow.

"He's with a doctor, come with me."

(Y/n) nodded and let Maverick lead her inside the base. She couldn't quite believe how high up the ceilings were or how large the bay doors were, it was like everything was amplified as if giants worked and lived here. It felt strange to be walking round here with Maverick when Jake always said he would give her a tour round one day. Plans changed.

She had been expecting much worse when Maverick rang her and said Jake had had a 'minor accident' at the base, but knowing it was nothing to do with a crash or him being in a plane at all made (Y/n) feel better. It stopped her from having a breakdown or a panic attack as she drove down here, but she couldn't fathom what had happened. What kind of accident would her husband have when he was supposed to be safe here on the ground?

She glanced over her shoulder, noticing that the two others who had been doing press ups were now following after her and Maverick, presumably so they could see Jake too. They must be part of his team.

"What happened?"

"Phoenix and Bob, behind you," Maverick tossed a look over his shoulder and pointed his thumb in their direction. "Had a mishap when they fueled their plane. The pipeline dropped and caught Jake in the temple. I think he's got a mild concussion, but he'll be fine."

(Y/n) brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, hearing her shoes clicking loudly against the tiled floor as she followed Maverick around three corners and down a long corridor until they were in front of a medical wing.

That didn't sound too bad. That wasn't nearly as bad as she had been expecting, but it still wasn't good.

Her husband shouldn't be getting into accidents like this at work. He shouldn't be getting smashed in the head with their equipment. He was a pilot, an aviator. He was training every day to be in top physical performance and here he was with a concussion because his team had clearly lacked concentration.

It took all the effort (Y/n) had not to run ahead once they walked into a large open unit almost the same size as the open field outside. There was only one patient in here and (Y/n) set her sights on him immediately.

Jake was sat on the side of a bed, his legs swinging back and forth like a child at a doctor's appointment. His hands were clutching either side of the bed, his lips were set in a firm line and he kept squinting and closing his eyes as a doctor was stood in front of him, cleaning his wound.

Once they were close enough, (Y/n) hurried past Maverick and dropped her bag down by the foot of the bed. She didn't want to get in the way when the doctor was clearly trying to assess Jake and sort him out, but the moment Jake glanced to the left, his eyes widened and he jerked out of the doctor's grip.

"Baby." The surprise was evident in his voice and he let go of the bed to reach an arm out in (Y/n)'s direction. As soon as he started curling his fingers in a grabbing motion, (Y/n) smiled and moved forward.

Jake immediately coiled his arm around (Y/n)'s waist and reeled her closer until she had to plant her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. His fingers squeezed her hip tightly and he kissed the top of her chest before he glanced over her shoulder towards Maverick.

"You called my wife?"

The shock was evident in Jake's voice, but it was the looks of the rest of the team that made him wince. He hadn't mentioned to any of them that he happened to be married, that knowledge was on a need to know basis and as his superior, Maverick was the only one who needed to know. For emergency situations like this if Jake ever got hurt or shot down or sent to hospital.

There was no way they could let him drive home and since he had been injured, Maverick knew it was best to call (Y/n) and let her know so she could come and pick him up.

"You got concussed and you won't be able to drive home. Yes, I called your missus. You're welcome."

Maverick placed his hand on his hip and tilted his head to one side. Once Jake was silenced with that one look, Maverick nodded to himself and turned to leave. He knew none of them would be doing any more exercises today and he was okay with that, they would call it a day and start again tomorrow.

"You're married?"

"You never mentioned you're married to such a stunning girl."

(Y/n) tilted her head to the right, figuring the man that said that must be Bradley, the one Jake said was close to Maverick. He had a raised brow and his lips quirked into a smile beneath his moustache while both arms folded tightly over his chest.

She could feel the glares Jake was sending towards Bradley, squinting and glaring over in his direction before he looked back up at his wife.

With a quiet groan, Jake moved his hands from (Y/n)'s hips so he could bind his arms tightly around her waist. His hands feathered up and down her back and he pushed forward until his lips attached to her exposed chest just beneath her collar bone.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"Why did you need to know?" He countered, smirking tiredly against (Y/n)'s chest and he twisted his head so the left side of his face could press down against her skin. His cheek nuzled into her chest and he looked over at the team, watching the blush that rose to Bob's face that tilted down to look at his shoes and the way Phoenix rubbed the back of her neck bashfully.

He hadn't told them because it wasn't their business, they didn't need to know. He was in love, he was head over heels in love with his wife and in Jake's eyes, she was his little secret.

He didn't want the team teasing him or asking about her or trying to make jokes that he was tied down. He had dealt with that in the past with other people he worked with and he didn't like it. He smiled when people flirted with him in bars, but he kindly turned every one of them down and didn't let them get too close. (Y/n) was the reason why.

Sometimes it felt safer to keep (Y/n) as his little secret. What they did was dangerous, they had all lost friends in this job and it was hard to bring friends and family into this life. Jake didn't know if introducing (Y/n) to his team would be too much.

For him, it felt better to keep work and home life separate.

With a sigh, Jake lifted his cheek from (Y/n)'s chest, his lips forming a thin line as he stared up at her despite the headache that was swirling around behind his eyes. He scanned his eyes around the team who were all watching on eagerly like this was their favourite tv soap.

"Darlin', this is the dagger squad," Jake waved his hand around, muttering their call signs to which (Y/n) nodded earnestly. "Guys, this is my wife, (Y/n)."

"Nice to meet you all, even under strange circumstances," (Y/n) quirked a brow when Bob tipped his head down with his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Clearly he felt guilty for the accident and (Y/n) was sure she heard him mutter a soft 'sorry again' clearly directed towards Jake.

He wasn't going to hold a grudge. It had been an accident and a few stitches was much better than some of the injuries he'd gotten on this job. But he would be holding this over them in the future and he knew he had earned himself a few free beers down at the Hard Deck for this.

"How bad is it then?"

Jake felt shockwaves coursing through his blood when (Y/n)'s hands moved from his shoulders to gently cup his face in her hands.

He loved the feeling of her thumbs brushing across his cheekbones just beneath his eyes and the way her fingertips tapped behind the tip of his jaw near his ears. His lips curved into a smile, despite the aching in his temple that had gone down a little when he took the aspirin and painkillers he was given.

His eyes squinted up at his wife whose lips curved into a pouting smile while her head tilted to the side, inspecting the wound on his temple.

All the blood had been cleaned from Jake's face and neck and his head had been X-rayed and dabbed with anticeptic, all he needed now was stitches.

"What am I gonna do with you?" (Y/n) murmured softly while she tilted Jake's head down in her hands so she could pepper kisses against the middle of his temple which no doubt would be aching. She didn't want to touch or go too near the wound, she knew even a light touch was going to hurt and she didn't want to hurt him. But he leaned into her touch and groaned, tightening his arms around her waist while his hands slid further down her back.

"I can think of a few things."

"I don't think I wanna see that." Coyote ran a hand down his face and patted Bradley's chest before he began to walk. He would see what Maverick wanted them to do, whether they were all getting the afternoon off or just Jake. He murmured a soft "Nice to meet you, Mrs Seresin." And laid a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder as he passed her.

"Yeah, us neither. Sorry again, Hangman, we'll owe you a few rounds when your back in action." Phoenix waved her hand towards Jake and dipped her head before she headed out with Bob following in her wake.

He uttered a soft "Nice to see you, sorry Hangman." before he followed Phoenix, silently praying they wouldn't have to finish the last twenty six push ups they had skipped when they followed Maverick and (Y/n) down here to the medic bay.

"Well, you look like your in good hands, so I'll catch up with you later. Maybe we'll see you soon, Mrs Hangman."

Once Bradley disappeared, (Y/n) managed to untangle herself from her husband's arms, causing him to grunt and pout dramatically. His hands reached out for her but she didn't move far. She stepped out from between his legs and moved to stand on his left side near the end of the bed he was perched on. Her arm looped around his back and her hand gave his shoulder a squeeze while she kissed the good side of his temple.

"When can I take him home?"

"I'll just do the stitches and then he's all yours."

Jake couldn't hide the grimace that flooded his face when he saw the needle and thread. He didn't like the inconvenience of stitches. His eyes briefly glanced up at (Y/n) before he shimmied round on the seat so his back was towards her. And he slowly reclined his head until the back of his head was settled down on (Y/n)'s shoulder.

He did his best to keep his head steady and his eyes fell closed when he saw an injection needle coming close. The numbing agent to make the stitches more bearable.

A low whistle passed his lips and when (Y/n)'s free hand curled over his thigh, Jake reached down and curled his hand over hers. He squeezed tight and tried to take slow, deep breaths when the needle finally started puncturing through his skin. It didn't exactly hurt, but he felt a sharp sting and each time the thread was pulled tight, Jake could feel his brow lifting as the skin was dragged back together.

Six stitches later and (Y/n) could barely feel her hand from how tightly Jake was squeezing it. She leaned her head down and kissed the top of his head, nudging her nose against his soft wavy hair as Jake finally opened his eyes.

"You're good to go with a mild concussion, Seresin. No flying for twenty-four hours, and if you go any higher than G7, I'll need to see you back here for a check over."

"Copy that."

"Thank you for patching him up."

When Jake hopped up from the bed, (Y/n) moved her arm lower to secure around his waist and she pressed a quick kiss to the side of his jaw which caused his lips to pull into a wide grin. He draped his arm over her shoulders, feeling much better than he did earlier.

The last thing he wanted to do was lean on (Y/n) and have her dragging him out of here like the guys had heaved him in earlier. He could walk on his own two feet again.

"That's going to leave a scar." (Y/n) murmured softly, reaching her left hand up to graze her fingers over his brow just beneath the row of navy blue stitches on his temple. It wasn't going to leave a dent or a prominent, deep line, but it would leave a faint streak of white like a dash of paint across his skin.

She pressed another kiss to Jake's jaw until he tilted his head down and captured her lips in a soft, burning kiss instead. "I know," He muttered softly against her lips, kissing her again and again as they walked as slow as possible out of the base.

"But I know you love my war wounds."

[gremlingottoosilly]

What lies within (Tentacle!Monster!Konig x fem!Reader)

It's mating season for monster hybrids. Unfortunately for you, the colonel didn't have time to dump his eggs everywhere. TW and tags: Non-con, size difference, oviposition, monster hybrids, forced breeding, belly bulging, yandere Konig, possessive Konig, tentacles, double penetration. Word count: 3278

The brave new world of opportunities for monsters.

The illustrious life for those who are not afraid of being a hunter in the billion flocks of weak, stupid prey. 

There are endless possibilities for the ones who decide to serve in the various armed forces specifically tailored to monsters. 

And loads of other bullshit that König had to endure every day on the briefs. Propaganda, advertisement, and weak attempts to make a new generation of monster hybrids abandon their old ways and join either army or contracting forces, making them glorified mercenaries. Jaided and disillusioned, the colonel long abandoned the thoughts that service can be fun, that it can bring him something other than money and occasional bullets in various places. 

“Most inclusive workplaces for monsters,” his ass. They were fed bullshit on top of other bullshit, and he is already tired of war – but there isn’t much he can do besides it. The payment is nice, he gets to eat his enemies and tears through entire units of squishy, weak humans who make perfect snacks from their useless fucking bodies. 

— So. Abandoned by your team, ja? 

Unfortunately for him, sometimes war operations meant that he was not supposed to eat prisoners – he was supposed to take them, hoard them into rounds, and send them for either ransom or whatever higher-ups wanted to do with them. Sometimes, it’s torture for information, sometimes, it’s attempts to bring them to their side if they are worth it. 

Sometimes, he just looked in the eyes of a soft, squishy little prey and just couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger. 

Well…” sometimes” is a very big word. He had never once thought about keeping the POW for himself before he met this stupidly beautiful, soft nurse with a perfect face, nice pair of legs in that ugly baggy uniform, and the most beautiful scent in the entire…

He never thought of keeping the prisoner for himself before he met you. 

It was supposed to be an easy mission for you – he can see it from your lack of normal armor. Either you had no idea that KorTac had their own plans for whatever you wanted to do here, or your contractor is extremely cheap. He likes either way – you smell like a human, and he likes dumb humans who would make perfect victims. You smell and look weak, trembling, perfect fucking pray for someone like him. König didn’t feel the need to transform for this battle. Your team ran away like a bunch of bunnies before he ever fired his first shot, but he could still feel his tentacles slowly stir under his hood. He can feel his body transforming without the need to – and he feels the pressure in his lower stomach. 

When was the last time he was able to put his eggs somewhere other that cold, unforgiving air? 

Even the bagginess of your uniform doesn’t obscure him from looking at the sway of your hips, at the perfect surface of your tummy, and feeling the smell of your ripe, fertile body. Having a strong sense of smell always came like a curse in the team of monsters where showering after a mission isn’t something that is done by many, buy König can appreciate his nose now – he can smell how perfect you are for breeding. How scared, too. 

Poor thing, probably terrified of his. König knows how he looks, even in his human form – tall, broad, bigger than any man you saw before, so much more muscular that even with your military training as a combat nurse, he could still break your spine with one hand. His size is something that made it impossible to find a partner normal ways – monsters are naturally too dominant to ever submit to him, and humans are simply too scared to deal with someone like him. He isn’t surprised, no – if anything, he understands completely. 

You sob, your voice is melting with incomprehensible pleas and little whines. You are shaking under him – a poor, dumb girl who wasn’t aware that her best shot at surviving was to try and shoot his crotch off before he pulled a gun out of your hands. 

— Pl…please, you can’t…you can’t do this! It’s a crime, I was on medical duty, it’s…

König likes humans because they are dumb. Civilian humans are even cuter – run around, thinking their lives are protected by sets of laws and rules that, in fact, don’t apply to the strong – and you, in your full half-military half-civvie glory, are fucking perfect. You whine and sib, tears running down your face when he presses you under him. Your hand hits the hard rocks of the ground, and he shifts slightly, dragging you closer to a softer patch of grass. 

He laughs when you are trying to scramble from under him, your lower half is pinned by his weight – he is surprised you can still move. You move your pelvis, trying to get out – and he moans quietly when you start rubbing your crotch against his. You freeze, fear spreading on your face – god, he missed that feeling. When was the last time he got to actually breed someone? Or even just have sex with someone as cute? 

— You really think so, Schatzen? That rules will protect you? 

He moves his crotch against yours, making you sob a bit more. You’re sweet and compliant, and he just loves breaking soft things like you – it’s a desire to break, to destroy, to make you his. He knows that, technically, forcing himself on women from enemy lines really is a war crime. He also knows that if he’d managed to breed you with his eggs, monster laws would never allow you to separate after mating. 

Besides, it's not like he is going to let you go, so you could tell on him. König never believed in love at first sight, but you would be a perfect vessel for his eggs and his tentacles – what else would he need from a wife, right? 

— You’re pretty. 

He says plainly, his hand goes to rub your chest through the fabric of your uniform. You won’t need those ugly clothes anymore – he’d make sure to buy you something nice and frail that won’t make you too uncomfortable to carry his eggs. Maybe a soft, frail dress or some of those cute maternity clothes when your body starts to change. He can’t wait to see his breasts swelling with milk – even if his unfertilized eggs won’t need it, he certainly would. Even if you’re too weak to handle his load, he’d make sure to get you a nice, firm plug and keep you on his tentacles constantly. 

You start to sob even more when you understand what he is trying to do – when he rips your pants to reveal the softness of your cunt and the fragility of your [anties, you actually manage to push your legs against his dick a good few times. He is too aroused to notice – if anything, he likes how fiery you are, your little yells and loud screams for help. No one will come to aid you – he barked the orders for his soldiers to go and fuck around somewhere else while he was busy devouring his little prize. Colonel doesn’t like having an audience – if anything, he is saving your dignity right now. If anything, he is remarkably soft when he pushes one of his long, red tendrils down your body, massaging your pussy through your panties. 

You’re moist already when his tentacle finds a way to your labia. What a slutty nurse you are – getting off the enemy colonel breeding you in the middle of the battlefield. Your tears mean nothing when he is too busy massaging and pressing and playing with your sticky, puffy folds – poor girl, so deprived of attention that even the weird texture of his extensions only fuels your desire. 

So fragile, so perfect – and so, so wet that your adorable white panties are already become transparent, sticking to your soft pussy. When he takes you home, he’d make sure to forbid you from wearing any underwear at all – you would meet him dressing in nothing but his shirts, a hand on your tummy to support the weight of your eggs. Walls of your pussy clenching on the plug he’d make to insert in you every morning. 

— Don’t…please, don’t, n…

You whine ever so sweetly, trying to close your legs so he won’t be able to touch you. It’s futile, just one of his tendrils is ten times stronger than your hands. He gets through your closed legs, buried in the moistness of your sweet, perfect pussy. You taste heavenly – just one minute enough to make him hungrier than before. König’s mating season was often postponed due to constant adrenaline rushes and things he takes to enhance his battle abilities – but he can feel eggs pressing at the inside of his body now, preparing to be released in the sweet heat of your body. But he has to prepare you first. 

— Quiet now. It won’t hurt unless you want it to. 

His tendrils are coming to moisten your pussy even more – sweet numbness filling your body from the lower stomach and right to your head. Knowing that you must feel dizzy and just a tad bit dumb, König can’t wait but chuckle. He likes you empty-headed, adorable dumbness in your eyes. He knows that he doesn’t know you, that you might even already have a boyfriend on the civil side of your life – but he doesn’t care. His mind doesn’t easily fall for just anyone,  but if he saw a perfect vessel in you, there is no escape. At least he is nice enough to be gentle. 

You whimper slightly when he pushes the first tendril inside of you. Too impatient to use his hands or tongue to make you feel a bit more at ease – after all, you are still on the battlefield, even if your friends abandoned you to get picked up by KorTac. Too impatient to soothe you with his words, he uses one of his smaller, thinner tentacles to push your pussy walls, make you squeeze him and milk for all his worth. You are wet, but not enough to take him without crying. Hot and soft, the cold texture of his extensions contrasts with your body too much – you are shaking, he can feel slight vibrations at the soft walls of yours. 

Fitting him like a glove, too perfect to exist – he just wants to take you with him, to flip you on your tummy and push all of his tentacles inside. You’re tight and warm, you make him go crazy from desire. It’s weird how a strong and mighty colonel can be so charmed by just some enemy nurse, but when you whine slightly and try to adjust your body to fit more comfortably under him, he just knows that he has to take you. That, no matter how much you are crying and praying for him to stop, you want to be used by him. Perhaps, with certain training, you would want his eggs, too. 

Second tendril caught you by surprise. Just when you started to adjust to the weird, slimy feeling of something writhing inside of you, spreading your tight walls around it and clashing with the heat of your insides, a second, bigger one started to press on your clenched folds. You wanted to beg, to ask him to stop – you’re too tight for this, too small, you would never be able to take even just one of his tentacles, you were…

But his tendrils press easily, he accesses lube spreading between your legs. You are sobbing from the feeling, and he is laughing. His hand goes to rip the upper part of your clothing, revealing your midriff. Fingers pressing on your tummy, just to feel his tentacles inside – he laughs when the skin of your stomach is tensed up, revealing the outlines of his extension. God, he can’t wait to make your body swell from him. Even though the eggs are not bearing his children, he can imagine you and a bunch of little ones – you’d look much better like this than pretending to be a nurse. Honestly, what were you even trying to do on the battlefield? 

— Stay still, ja? 

— Too much! Please, n…no more…

— Poor thing. You’ll feel so much better after I add the third one. 

He knows that he is overstepping a bit, that your body isn’t used to taking something as big as his tentacles – but König also knows that his pre-cum makes you feel dizzy warm. Acting like a natural aphrodisiac, you won't be able to resist relaxing under him. The lubricant is enough to allow his other tentacle to force himself in your ass – he isn’t going to breed that hole yet, but it doesn't mean that he can’t use it. 

He groans loudly when your asshole clenches around him – he had to stretch you quite a bit, that sweet numbness of his precum isn’t making you relaxed enough to take him whole, but he is managing, one agonizing centimeter after another. At the point you’re out of breath, with your face all flushed, he already knows he fucking won – he knows that you, poor, fragile thing, isn’t going anywhere. He would say that he feels horrible about forcing you like this – but this is the start of a new, better life for you. Being the bride of a monster of his rank is a dream for any lowly human like you. Can go as far as to say you’re lucky he ever laid his eyes on you. 

— Stop, please…’s too much. 

— You feel good, Katzen. Relax, and you’ll be even better. 

— I don’t…please, just let me go, I…

— Is this your first time with a monster? 

— Yes. 

— Gut. Would break you in for me. 

He laughs at your whimpers, his hand goes to cradle your face in an almost soft expression. He gently presses his fingers across your skin, making you all nice and warm for him – he wants to kiss you all over, but the only thing he can do in his more monstrous form is to press one of his shorter tentacles against your lips, mocking the way normal people kiss. You sob, but he presses the tip on your mouth, passing it through your teeth – you would feel better after ingesting his pre-cum, can even clench around him so more, chasing your own pleasure. 

König wants you to feel good, so he presses his hand against your face, allowing you to tremble and cry as much as you want. He wants to be nice to you, so his other hand presses on your clit, finding the tense bud and breaking the nothingness between your legs. You tremble even more when he starts to spread your folds around his fingers, both of his tentacles working to milk your holes and spread you as much as possible. 

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear when both of the tendrils working on your pussy suddenly change their direction – they start to spread your walls instead of just fucking it. You feel exposed and vulnerable, he can see the pink flesh and glossiness of your cunt. It’s embarrassing for you, and he knows it – but god, you’re too fucking perfect to pass. 

You don’t even manage to ask him what he is doing when you feel something much larger pressing against your pussy. The biggest of his tentacles – almost as thick as an arm, pushing inside of you. He had a purpose, a desire to do something with you that you could never understand – silly humans know nothing about his biological need to push his eggs somewhere, of course, but you’re just fucking perfect. Too perfect to pass on this opportunity. 

You plead and cry when he presses further, a little bump on your tummy is obvious now, with each centimeter of his tendril pushing. When he finally bottoms inside of you, pressing directly against your cervix, you are too fucked out to even think. 

It’s painful, you think. Three thick tentacles roam inside your pussy, pushing and grinding against your gummy, tight walls – and another one of his extensions in your ass, writhing and massaging your insides. 

It’s pleasurable, you feel. The tentacles are uneven, cold, each little bump makes you cry out from pleasure, the overwhelming feeling is something you could never achieve with a normal dick. He cradles your face and chuckles softly when you moan and cry at the same time when he gently presses his red tendril against your soft lips, and you part them because you don’t want to resist anymore. Because you can’t resist anymore. 

— So good for me. Such a good girl, liked being fucked by the enemy. 

— I don’t like it! He laughs at your misery, pushing his tentacles back only to fuck you harder. He can feel the tension multiply in his stomach – he feels the movement of eggs forming from inside and pushing down the biggest one of his tendrils. 

When you first feel the pressure of an egg in your pussy, you want to scream. 

You scratch on his hands like a wild cat, clenching on him like crazy. If he didn’t see horror and shock on your face, he’d think you wanted him. You are tight, tighter than you were before – your pussy is closing around him, not letting him go, and he can only smile to himself when he feels every little bump sending electric shocks right into your core when you feel his eggs traveling from the start of his tendrils down, to your soft, welcoming womb. 

God, you will look perfect, all swollen and helpless – he can bring you a fucking collar, maybe push you on his lap and parade you as his precious wife for everyone to see. His scent lingers on your body, no matter if you want it or not. Silly human, you try to fight him like you didn’t lose the moment you let him pin your body. So perfect, he thinks of where you were before he found you. How many partners do you have, and how well would you play the role of his little breeding machine.

 He massages your tummy, with each egg taking its place in your womb. Soothes tense skin and whispers sweet promises in your ear when you cry and try to push him away. So perfect, so sweet for him – he doesn’t know the fuck he lived without you. 

When the last egg takes its place, making you bulge from all the weight inside of you, he can finally calm himself down enough to bring his human form partially. When he finally retracted his tentacles from your tired, sensitive body, not forgetting to press against your clit a good few times to prolong your unwanted, exhausting orgasm, he could finally press a kiss on your lips. 

You’re a mess – torn clothes, covered in cum and thick transparent slime, trembling and crying softly. You close your pussy around every one of his eggs like a good girl, and he knows you would be a perfect mating partner – but god, you need a good shower and soft mattress so he can try to fuck you again in his human form, and steal all the hugs and silly affections he wanted. 

— Will you let me go? 

He laughs, picking you up swiftly. So fragile in his hands, he doesn’t even want to think about letting you roam freely. 

— Of course not, Schatzen. Just get used to it, ja? 

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 2. Rules

Masterlist

Summary: Simon lays the ground rules and shows you around the house.

Warnings: Simon's email etiquette, very mild cursing, beginnings of obsessive behavior.

Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.

here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.

Simon.

You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.

Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!

Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?

See you soon!

You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.

So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.

Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.

she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.

Simon.

You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.

You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.

Understood. Thanks again!

"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.

You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.

You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?

"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."

You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.

"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."

You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"

Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"

"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.

He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."

You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"

Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.

He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.

But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.

"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."

"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...

He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.

You faltered. "Sorry...?"

"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"

You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.

"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.

He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.

"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.

"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.

"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"

He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."

Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.

"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.

Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.

He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.

But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?

He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-

Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.

Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."

He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.

He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.

Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.

Next ->

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae

[woso-dreamzzz]

Head in the Clouds IV

Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your first few months in Barcelona

On the second to last match of the season at Chelsea, you get hurt.

You go to ground instantly and clutch at your leg, shrieking and rolling around on the floor. Your girlfriend is at your side instantly, holding your hand and whispering in your ear.

You tear your hamstring on the second to last match.

Alexia, Marta and Patri watch the replay of it happening a week later after they're told that Barcelona are signing you.

"Is it going to be healed in time?" Patri asks," It looked bad."

"She didn't need surgery and the doctors have given her around ten weeks. She'll be ready in time for the first match of the season."

"She's kind of young," Marta voices her thoughts next.

"So are a lot of our players."

"But they're from La Masia. They've been playing our style of football since they were kids. How do you know she'll do well?"

"We know," The staff respond," She's a great player and Lyon wanted her too. Be happy we snapped her up first."

Alexia sighs. "And what about schoolwork? She's English, right? Is she sticking with an English school or one of ours?"

"Her dad's Spanish," The staff member says," She speaks Spanish too."

Alexia, Marta and Patri frown as Paños walks in nearly ten minutes late.

"What did I miss?"

You don't feature much in their minds until your arrival in Barcelona months later.

A lot of the team are still riding the high of being World Cup winners so you largely go unnoticed for the first few days.

Alexia watches you from a distance though.

The staff said your father was Spanish yet she doesn't recognise you in the slightest. Clearly, you haven't been called up for the Spain youth teams yet so maybe you aren't quite as talented as the club seems to think you are.

You're on the tail end of your rehab so you're not in full training yet and no one's quite seen your skills.

You're not the only new member of the team and with everyone else in training, you fade into the background a bit.

"She looks familiar," Irene notes one day as she watches you pass slowly with one of the trainers.

"Does she? I don't recognise her," Alexia replies.

"No. I'm sure that I know her from somewhere."

It's not until weeks later that Irene knows how she recognises you.

She knows your father is Spanish, most of the team know by now but, like everyone else, she'd assumed that he was Catalan.

So, when Aitana addresses you in Catalan one day and you don't respond, it piques interest.

"You don't speak Catalan?"

"Why would I speak Catalan?"

"Because of your dad?"

"Oh! Papa is Basque so we speak that!"

"L/n?" Irene repeats your last name and you turn to look at her. "Your father doesn't happen to be one of the L/n's from Legazpi?"

"He is! How did you know that?"

A little bubble of laughter escapes Irene. "They used to live next door to me when I was a kid."

"Wow! That's so cool!"

It's another week or so before you join everyone else in training and that's when you make your mark.

You're a natural on the ball, easily cutting through everyone to bury it in the net. You receive passes expertly, bringing the ball down and turning to shoot in the next moment.

Most of all, you look like you're having fun. You look like the kids on the schoolyard do. You look like Alexia felt the first time she watched the men play at Camp Nou with her father.

You have talent, that much is certain.

But talent in training is different to talent in a match.

Since the revelation that you're Basque like her, Irene sticks close to you.

You enjoy her company. With your grandparents across the country, it's nice to speak Basque with someone and Irene's wife and son are so nice and sweet and you find yourself over at her place all the time.

It's at the same time, that Lucy and Keira seem to remember that you're English. It's fun to speak to people in English that understand your slang and Lucy in particular seems to light up when you mention that you've played for the England youth team a few times.

With you fully healed from your injury and the first match of the season coming up, you find yourself subbed on at the same time as Alexia.

She doesn't have high hopes with this being the first match of the season and the team getting back into the rhythm but she can't help but watch as you receive the ball in the midfield.

She expects you to be shut down quickly and pass it off but you avoid everyone that tries to take you down, even neatly leaping over a slide tackle.

You go one on one with the goalkeeper before chipping it over.

Alexia has never quite seen something like that before, especially from one so young.

You get another goal a moment later, nutmegging the keeper on your way and then complete your hattrick with ease with a worldie from outside the box.

A game that would have ordinarily ended 2-1 to Barcelona ends 5-1 because of three perfect goals from you.

You're a talent, Alexia thinks as you rock happily back and forth on your feet as you wait for your Nana and Granddad to come down from the stands.

You're better than a talent and Alexia can see you easily skipping the rest of the youth teams to make it into the senior teams.

She can imagine how easy it would be to link up with you for Spain, delivering pass after pass so you can kick it in easily.

She makes eye contact with Lucy across the pitch and the smirk tells Alexia everything she needs to know.

Lucy wants you for England.

"This is my granddad!" You tell Alexia, holding the hands of an older man with a receding hairline but a face marked with a life well lived and an older woman with a stern look and a walking stick," And my Nana!"

Your Nana says something but it's not the English that Alexia expects.

Her stomach sinks.

"Was that Swedish I heard?" Frido asks, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

"Yes!" You say, gesturing to your Nana," She's from Sweden! We speak it at home together."

A thoughtful look appears on Frido's face and Alexia's eyes narrow.

No.

This can't be happening.

The most promising youngster Alexia has seen in years, can't be eligible to play for three different countries.

It's just not possible yet it's the position Alexia finds herself in now.

It's hours later that Olga wakes up to the sound of drilling in the middle of the night. She's got an early morning train to Madrid for work and groans as she's woken up, dragging herself out of bed and wandering down to the basement where the sound is coming from.

Alexia looks manic and Olga's mouth hangs open.

A conspiracy theory style board is screwed into the wall with pieces of string connecting pictures to you in the very centre.

"Ale?" She asks, not willing to believe her eyes," What is this?"

"A family tree!" Alexia replies almost too happily to not be tinged with the edge of sleep deprivation.

"Okay. Why do you have it?"

"I told you about that kid, right? Y/n L/N? Well turns out if she doesn't want to play for Spain then she's got two more countries she can play for! I'm just checking that she's not eligible for anyone else!"

"Alexia...What the hell?! Go to bed!"

"In a minute," Alexia says dismissively," I'm just working out whether any of her parents were adopted or not."

[kurokawaia]

❛ It's your first !! Gotta be soft !! ❜

Iguro Obanai X Fem!Reader

WC; 3.4k+ (somehow)| !MDNI! | TW/CW :: nervous!reader, virgin!reader, lovesick!obanai, virgin!obanai, cherry popping, soft sex, gentle sex, oba is rlly soft and love you sm, piv, smut with plot? set in season 5 but no spoilers, kaburamaru slithers away smw when it gets heated dw

⋆·˚ ༘ *𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) I was wondering if you could do reader’s first time with him, and I just head cannon Iguro to be absolutely lovesick with his partner and gentle like how he is with Mitsuri in canon so could you do it with like a nervous!reader x lovesick!Iguro’s first time doing it - ANON

this ended up being over 3k words, dont ask me how

m.list | demon slayer m.list

You had to take a break from training today, so you found yourself watching Obanai beating up the children who trained under him. However, you found yourself nervously fidgeting on the sidelines, watching Obanai as he demonstrated a particularly complex technique through the wood structures.

Your heart pounded in your chest, both from the intensity of the training and the way Obanai's gaze lingered on you whenever he thought no one was watching. Despite his stern exterior and sharp words for others, he had always been different from you—gentle, kind, and unbelievably patient.

He does love you after all.

Obanai's eyes flickered to you again, his concentration momentarily broken. The sight of you, nervously playing with the hem of your haori, made his heart ache with a longing he struggled to contain. He was lovesick for you, utterly devoted, and the thought of you consumed his mind.

As he guided the other Hashira through the rigorous exercises, his thoughts drifted to the times you spent together. The quiet moments when he could hold you close, feeling the warmth of your body against his, and the soft, timid whispers of your voice that soothed his troubled soul. He yearned for more of those moments, but there was a deeper, more primal desire that had begun to take root.

His mind wandered to the idea of having you in a more intimate way, a way you had not yet explored together. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, and he had to force himself to focus back on the training.

He wanted you, in every sense of the word, but he was determined to be patient, knowing your timid nature. He didn't want to rush you or make you feel uncomfortable.

The day dragged on, and the training ended. Obanai immediately sought you out, his expression softening the moment he saw you waiting for him.

"How was your day?" he asked, his voice gentle as he approached you.

"It was alright," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "Watching you was... impressive, as always."

He smiled beneath his mask, he only smiled for you. "Thank you. Let's go somewhere quiet. I want to spend some time with you."

You nodded, your heart racing as he led you away from the training grounds of his estate to the room the two of you shared. Well, you weren't currently living with him yet, but you hoped to in the future.

It was peaceful as the two of you sat outside on the edge of the path that trailed around the house, your legs dangling off of the edge, accompanied by the soft rustle of trees.

Obanai sat down, pulling you gently to sit closer beside him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "I've missed you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I missed you too," you replied, leaning into his embrace. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, and you felt a sense of peace wash over you.

He tilted your chin up, his mismatched eyes locking onto yours. "I think about you all the time," he confessed, his voice aching with longing. "I want you, in every way possible. But I don't want to rush you. I want you to be comfortable, to feel safe with me."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. "I... I feel safe with you, Obanai," you whispered, your cheeks flushing. "I'm just... nervous."

He smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "That's okay. We can take things slow. I just want you to know how much I care about you, how much I love you."

You looked up at him, your eyes shining. "I love you too, Obanai. I'm just not used to feeling this way, but I want to be with you."

He pulled you closer, unravelling the bandages around his mouth, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. "We'll take it one step at a time," he murmured against your lips. "As long as we're together, that's all that matters."

But the kiss wasn't tender for too long. Obanai had slipped his tongue into your mouth and a gasp fell out of your lips. You dripped his haori in surprise, eyes momentarily widening before closing them in contentment.

Obanai's tongue was entangling with your own and you almost didn't know what to do. It obviously wasn't the first time that the two of you had made out but it still made you nervous under his touch. He was towering over you, his hand entangled in your hair as he tilted your face up and an arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

You felt as if you were going to faint when he was getting into it, more than usual, your heart was beating so fast you thought you were going to pass out. You didn't even know what to do, Obanai was dominating you in such a loving way it made your tummy swell with butterflies and an unfamiliar throbbing fall to your clit.

You were beginning to not be able to intake any breaths and you tense underneath Obanai's touch. You truly were getting more and more flustered by the minute. Leaning into Obanai's hold, you tapped quickly on his shoulder and he pulled away from the kiss alarmed, not even realising your flustered and breathless state causing his eyes to widen in worry.

He leaned back slightly to see if you were okay, mentally cursing himself for being too intense with you. Your forehead was leaning on his shoulder while your hands trembled, clenching his black and white striped haori.

"I'm so sorry," Obanai hastily uttered and in reply, you nodded your head against his shoulder.

"It's okay," you reassured quietly.

What Obanai didn't see was how red your cheeks were and how hot your body felt on the inside, this sensation was absolutely overwhelming and you didn't know what to do.

"Are you-"

You lifted your head up after a few seconds, hoping that you had calmed yourself down but it didn't really work.

"I am!" you replied, interrupting him.

Obanai's eyes widened when he saw the state of you. Your cheeks were flushed in a deep shade of a pinkish red and your hands were trembling on his shoulders. What he felt just then, what he is realising is that he can feel how hot your body is heating up.

You didn't know what this need was so you hesitantly asked Obanai, "could I... kiss you again?" you asked with a quiet voice, looking down, not wanting to meet his gaze in fear he said no.

Oh, how silly you were, you could kiss Obanai whenever you wanted, with or without asking and he would just fall even more in love with you.

Obanai's eyes softened, and he leaned down, brushing his lips against mine. "You don't need to ask," he whispered against your mouth, his voice filled with warmth and longing.

You hesitantly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as our lips met once more. This time, the kiss was deeper, more intense. You could feel the electricity between us, a magnetic pull that made it impossible to resist each other.

your hands explored the contours of his back, feeling the strength and warmth of his muscles. Obanai's hands moved with a gentle but insistent touch, tracing the lines of your body, and making you shiver with anticipation.

As our bodies pressed closer, you could feel Obanai's heartbeat against mine, a steady rhythm that matched the intensity of our emotions. You wanted to memorize every sensation, every touch, knowing that this moment was a testament to the depth of our relationship.

Obanai's lips left mine, trailing a path of kisses down your neck, making you gasp with pleasure. His hands moved with a tender urgency, exploring the curves of your body with a reverence that made you feel cherished and loved.

You pulled him back up to you, our eyes locking as we paused for a breath. "I love you," You whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

"I love you too," he replied. "{Y/n}," he asked breathless

Obanai's hand gently cupped your cheek, lifting your chin until your eyes met. His touch was reassuring, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "Yes?" You asked softly, swallowing a lump in your throat.

"I... I want to take things further," he said, your voice barely above a whisper, the vulnerability of your words hanging in the air.

Your body froze, your mind pausing whatever it was thinking about. "You... can," you whisper, gazing into his eyes, realising that what he wanted to engage with you was sex.

After walking over to the futon, Obanai laid you down carefully, as if you would break and you were a nervous wreck but Obanai soothed that. Obanai was straddling your lower abdomen and you could feel the large bulge in his hakama pants as he leaned down to kiss you.

Your tongues danced with each other before he pressed a kiss to the side of your lips and then trailed down slowly, the kisses reassuring you that you would be okay. He trailed down your collarbone and chest, making sure to leave soft, faint red marks in its wake. Throughout the entire procedure, you let out panting breaths and strengthened your grip on his body.

Your reactions only send continuous flushes of butterflies to Obanai's dick. The need that Obanai had for you was restless as he tried so hard to contain himself and be as soft with you, he didn't want to hurt you.

"Oba," you said breathlessly and he could've melted right there and then, the way you said his name sounded so much more intimate than how you would sound when it was just a simple make-out session.

Obanai lets out a hum of approval against your skin and tension ripples through your body at the vibrations as Obanai continues leaving the same soft red marks down your jaw and on your neck.

Obanai pulled away, giving you a soft kiss. "Can I... take your...." Obanai trailed off slowly and you nodded, knowing what he was referring to, your core uniform.

"Yes," you replied nervously.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Obanai reassured, placing a kiss on your lips. "I'm not forcing you."

"No! I want to," you replied almost too quickly that an embarrassed flush came to your cheeks.

You tensed when Obanai's hands trailed down to your waist, your body arching slightly into his touch. He hesitantly unbuttoned the rest of the buttons to the top and slid your pants off. You watched his eyes widen at the sight of the fabric slipping to the side of your chest and stomach. "Can I-?"

"You can," you say, cutting him off.

A breathless sigh leaves your mouth when his hot hand trailed up your lower stomach to experimentally squeeze the mounds of flesh. You let out a moan when Obanai's lips began to press and suck gently on the top of your breast. You covered your mouth embarrassed while you looked away from Obanai. "Sorry," you mumbled.

"You sound so pretty," he whispers in your ear, causing your cheeks to heat up. Obanai's free hand pulled the hand away from your mouth. He leaned up a bit, pulling you gently with him and slipped the black nemaki off your shoulders, placing the material somewhere near us before he lay you down on the mattress again.

Obanai's lips pressed against mine once more while a hand skimmed slowly down your body. you felt the tip of his finger tug only slightly at your underwear and you grasped his wrist, the kiss breaking.

"Do you want to stop? You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Obanai's reassures but you shake your head, signalling that I wasn't implying that.

"It's not that, I really want to," you replied breathlessly before an embarrassed flush rose onto your cheeks. "Could you take off your..."

"Huh? Oh, of course," Obanai hummed, his lips pressing the side of your jaw. you watched him slip himself out of sweats, you see the imprint of his dick press painfully against his underwear and you swallowed deeply before he straddled you once you. Obanai did that without any complaint, he must really love you all that much.

Obanai pressed a reassuring kiss on your jaw before the tips of his fingers pulled the cotton down your legs, the cool air of the room causing chills to tingle down your pale skin. "You're so pretty," Obanai says breathlessly causing butterflies to swirl in your stomach.

His fingers venture further down, tracing a path along your slick slit. The touch is electrifying, causing you to tremble in his hold, your body responding to his every movement. A helpless whimper escapes your lips, a testament to the overwhelming pleasure that courses through you.

"So wet," Obanai mumbles before looking back up to you. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," you replied quietly, opening your eyes down to Obanai. "Please, can you... touch me more."

"I'll do whatever you want me do to," Obanai replied and you let a small smile grace your lips.

At your reply, Obanai's fingers experimentally push past v slick folds, his fingers pressing past your clit, and a surge of pleasure courses through you, leaving you breathless and desperate for more. A moan left your mouth as your back arched at his touch. your reaction caused Obanai to press down slightly more and your legs squeezed around his waist, moans stringing out your mouth.

you felt his fingers slide down and he found your seeping hols, drenched with arousal. I felt a finger slowly slide inside your heat, a whimper leaving your mouth. "Does this feel good?" Obanai asked and you nodded frantically.

"So good," you whimpered as he slowly pumped in and out your soaked walls. "Making me feel so good, Obanai."

"Really?" He asked and you moaned as he inserted another finger into your walls.

"Yeah, so so good," you whimper. "So good for me, Obanai."

The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and intensity that leaves you unable to contain your moans. you press your lips against his shoulder, muffling the sounds that escape from deep within you. His fingers explore the depths of your core, igniting a fire that consumes your every thought. Each movement, each curl, sends shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body.

you surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his touch, the combination of his skilled fingers and the intensity of our connection pushes you closer to the edge, teetering on the precipice of release. It's a moment of pure bliss, where time stands still, and you are consumed by the overwhelming pleasure that courses through your veins.

As Obanai fingers continued their relentless rhythm, pumping in and out of your seeping hole, there was an unfamiliar tightness growing in your lower abdomen, pleasure tightened inside your stomach. you wrap your shaky legs around him, seeking to anchor yourself to him amidst the overwhelming pleasure. your body quivers with anticipation, responding to his every touch, every movement.

you chant his name into his neck as praises leave your mouth, your voice filled with desire and need. The tears welling in your eyes are not from pain but from the overwhelming pleasure that threatens to consume you entirely.

In response to your plea, sucks the skin around your neck once more, groaning against your neck, his voice laced with desire. He begins to press your clit with the pad of his thumb, adding another layer of pleasure to the already intense sensations. The touch is electrifying, causing you to arch your back in response.

"Please, Obanai," you sob. "I need to... So good, Obanai."

"I've got you," Obanai reassured, intertwining our mouths together, his mouth swallowing the moans that slipped out your mouth.

The pleasure builds, the tension mounting with each passing second until you are on the precipice of release. It's a moment of pure surrender, where pleasure reigns supreme, and you are consumed by the overwhelming ecstasy that engulfs me.

Waves of ecstasy wash over you, leaving your legs trembling and weak from the intensity of the sensations. He slips his fingers from your hole and you continue to tremble from the aftermath of the orgasm. you managed to release yourself from Obanai's neck and move away from his hold.

"How are you feeling?" Obanai asks cupping your cheeks.

"Good," you breathe out slowly while looking into his eyes. "But, I want to make you feel good too."

"You don't need-"

"Please," you beg and you watch him swallow deeply, tension showing on his body.

Obanai asked once more. "Are you sure?"

I nod. "Please."

"Alright," He smiled gently moving off you to get himself out of his underwear and your eyes widened as you saw the size of his length. Obanai moves over you, you place your hands on his chest.

He delicately bites the shell of your ear making you let out a quiet whimper. you could feel him smile against your ear at your reaction. Obanai's touch caused you to dig your nails slightly into his chest leaving light crescent marks causing more deep exhales of breaths to get caught in your ear.

Obanai moved his head and his body suddenly firmly pressed against mine and I whimpered at the feeling of his dick pressing up against your stomach. His lips mingled with mine his minty taste and smell overflowed your senses making it a complete euphoria for you. you cupped the back of his neck to create a deeper angle for him to explore deeper into your mouth with our tongues continuing to entangle with each other.

Obanai groans into your mouth, the hand that was trailing down your thigh moved swiftly back to your waist and the other intertwined with your hair at the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him. you let out breathy sighs into him as your own hand interlaced with his black and your other wrapped around behind his neck.

His other hand moved its way down to tightly lift your thigh up which made his body mould closer to mine making you feel his dick press up against your soaked core. The kiss slows down and turns soft and almost desperate it's as if he wants to take his time with you, savouring every inch of your taste, to take his sweet time to memorise you.

"You're doing so good," Obanai pants agasint your lips and I didn't have time to reply as he pressed them against you once more. "I'm going to do it now. If it hurts, please tell me, I don't want to hurt you."

"Okay," you reply.

He presses his lips against mine to take your mind off the pain that's probably soon to come. you feel a hard tip get lubricated at your entrance making your back arch into him as you let out a strangled moan of pleasure into his mouth. He continues to push further into you making your eyebrows furrow together in pain but the pleasure is still overwhelming your senses making tears prick at your eyes.

"Oh, you feel so good," Obanai whimpers into your neck. "You're so perfect."

"You feel so good," you moan. The feeling of pure ecstasy of him fully entered you, the pain gone.

you feel his dick scraping across your plush walls in all the right places as he slowly exited your cunt, but not fully. Our moans and whimpers get swallowed by each other. you feel his thrusts speed up and you moan in response, your walls clenching around him causing the grip Obanai held on your thigh and waist to tighten.

The coil in your stomach getting tighter and your moans slightly became higher. Obanai continued to groan into your neck after he pulled away from the heated kiss.

"You make- me feel so goo- d," you say moaning throughout your sentence, "Feels so good-"

"I'm close-," He groans.

"Me too," you choke out.

you felt the coil in your stomach snap as your back arched painfully into Obanai's bare chest causing Obanai to groan and his arms moved to wrap tightly around you. After a few more pumps Obanai came, letting a few more rolls of his hips into you to help ride out both our highs before he pulled out slowly, making sure not to hurt you.

Obanai slumped down beside you before he slipped the condom off his length and walked over to the bathroom with a warm, damp wash cloth to clean you up and after he did so, you did the same.

"I love you so much," you tell him as we lay down together, our legs and arms entangling, bare bodies pressed against each other.

"I love you more," Obanai replies, holding you tighter.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | demon slayer m.list

[russellsppttemplates]

It is what it is (Lando Norris)

It takes Lando a while to notice how you always assume he has something else to do whenever you need his help

Note: english is not my first language. It's slightly angsty but has a good ending! ✨️ is this good, is this bad? I'm not too sure

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Cw: alludes to the lack of quality time between a couple

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"Look at you, beautiful girl", Lando twirled you as he stepped inside your bedroom, noticing you were getting ready, "are you going somewhere?".

"Yes, I have an appointment at my optometrist", you smiled, "Anna should be here soon to take me".

"Is it a joint appointment?", Lando squinted.

"No, you muppet", you giggled, "my optometrist needs some exams on my eyes, so I have to today because that's when the ophthalmologist is there and they recommended that I had someone take me there because they want to dilate my pupils and, depending on how it goes, my sight might be a little affected for a couple of hours", you offered, making sure you had everything you needed to take.

"You could've told me and I would've taken you", Lando added, accepting the kiss you placed on his lips.

"I thought you had a meeting this afternoon", you reasoned.

"I do, but I could have moved that around a little and fit everything into the schedule", he reasoned back.

"It's okay, don't worry about that", you mused, "That's Anna - bye, handsome!", you kissed his lips one last time before making your way out and downstairs to meet your friend.

The ride to the office wasn't long, you and Anna taking the time to catch up and learn about the new gossips she had to update on you.

"And how's Lando? I haven't seen him in a while", Anna stated after you sat in the empty waiting room waiting to be called.

"He's been busy lately - he has a meeting today with the team, they're also launching a new collection for Quadrant and they're investing a lot in the social media content, so he's been busy recording a lot of videos and stuff", you offered, never shy whenever it came to talk proudly about your boyfriend's achievements, "and we're also on the countdown for the season to begin, so there's training and meetings and all that".

"Sounds like a busy schedule, no wonder why I haven't seen him - I'm surprised you even see him at all", she joked, grabbing her phone once she remembered she had something to show you.

You were surprised yourself at every bit of time you were able to spend with Lando, as lately it had become near impossible to do so apart from sleeping in the same bed, and even that was rare as he was often travelling between Monaco and England on a weekly basis.

"Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?", the doctor called you before you stepped inside the exam room, starting with the procedures.

The check up itself didn't take long despite the twenty five minute wait for the drops to dilate your pupils, "Don't forget your sunglasses, Y/N!", the secretary reminded you before you stepped outside.

"Thank you, have a good afternoon", you smiled before tapping Anna's shoulder, "Give me your arm so I won't trip", you mumbled.

"Is your sight that bad? The doctor said it should be good enough", Anna worried as she was about to open the door.

"No, it's fine, but if I'm clumsy on any good day, imagine how probable it is for me to fall on some stupid step or raised cobblestone", you argued as you both chuckled, making your way to her car.

Before you went home, your friend stopped by the pharmacy to get you the relief eye drops you'd have to follow the medication regimen with for the next few days, stopping by your favourite bakery so you could enjoy some sweet pastries.

"Can you even read these prescriptions?", Anna asked as she read the regimen you had to comply with.

"Stop making fun of me, you say that as if I'm almost blind", you swatted her arm before reading - trying to - the words, "fucking hell, am I?".

"I can barely read them myself, Y/N! They're so tiny I don't know how they give these to eye patients! Is Lando going to be home soon? That way he can help you with this", she suggested.

"Can I even see the time? At least that", you mumbled as you looked at the large numbers on your phone, "he'll probably take a while still - I can set the alarms on my phone and I'll memorise the different drops", you tapped your head.

Once it was all settled and you assured Anna she was fine to go home and you'd be perfectly well on your own, you walked her to the door before going back to the living room as the sun was no longer shinning outside and you could lay down on the sofa.

The nap you were taking was cut short by the door being shut, making you rub your forehead before an alarm rang. Getting up to head to the bathroom where you kept the supplies, you found Lando taking his trainers off.

"Hi baby, how was your appointment?", he asked as he put the footwear away.

"It was good, need to go and apply my drops", you smiled, turning the light on and grabbing the right box of medication.

"Is that what the alarm was for? I thought we had gotten a new security system I was not aware of", Lando joked as he watched you wash your hands.

"Yes, these instructions are so small to read that Anna thought it would be best to have alarms so I wouldn't mess it up since it's still a little bit blurry", you mused.

"Do you want me to do it?", Lando offered.

"No, it's fine - I'll have to do this for the next 48 hours anyway, so I might as well get used to it", you stopped talking so you could apply them, almost holding your breath until the drops fell.

"My lovie", Lando whispered on your ear once he felt it was okay to approach you, hugging your mid section from behind and kissing your neck as you put your hands on top of his.

.

You were adding the finishing touches on the present wrapping, the shiny gold string fiddling between your fingers as you tried to tie a bow with it around the paper bag handle, when Lando stepped inside your home office.

"That's looking pretty", he mused as he handed you the tape you were looking for on your desk.

"Thank you", you offered before placing the sticky piece down, "the bag is quite plain and even though the present inside is what will get her attention, it should come in nice wrapping".

"Who is this for?", Lando asked.

"It's for Maya's birthday tonight", you smiled, admiring your work.

"Is that tonight? Fuck, this week has flown by", Lando cursed, "I can't make it - will you let her know, please? I'm sorry I can't go", Lando pouted, "if she has to pay for having made the reservation with me in it, let me know and I'll pay my part!".

"I had already told her I'd be going alone, so she made my reservation without a plus one", you mused, remembering the conversation that came around the time of booking the venue.

Lando was leaving late in the afternoon for a trip with Max, Ria and some of the Quadrant athletes, so like you predicted, he couldn't attend the dinner with you.

"Oh", Lando offered.

"Max told me about your plans and when Maya told me the date, I assumed you wouldn't be able to go", you explained with a tinge of sadness and conformity in your voice.

"Well, it seems you guessed right", Lando chuckled despite the uneasy feeling on his chest.

You seemed sad that he wouldn't be able to join you, but at the same time you didn't? Lando put the topic at the back of his mind for now, heading to the bedroom so he could pack the last minute things.

"I was thinking of wearing this dress", you said once you joined him inside a while later, taking the steamer out of your drawer and setting it up to get out any kinks and wrinkles.

"That one is one of my favourites on you, but then again, they all are, I think", Lando mused, kissing your cheek as you waited for the steamer to be up for use.

"Figured it would be a little cold out tonight, so I chose this one, and that coat over there", you pointed.

"You'll be the most beautiful in that room", your boyfriend complimented, pecking your lips before he let you continue your task.

A couple hours later, Lando found himself restless as he scrolled through the posts and stories of Maya's birthday dinner, "Ria", he called, "what would you think if your partner made plans without you because they figured you wouldn't be able to go anyway?".

Ria exchanged a look with Max and Tara before she spoke, "did they ask me if I could go?", she offered.

"They didn't, but truth be told it's not like you have given them much to believe that you could join them", Lando mumbled the last part.

"I think I'd be a more 'it is what it is' at the start if I saw that it was something out of their reach, but I'm not sure I'd put up with it if it was genuine disinterest from them", Ria explained.

"It's not disinterest! They're just busy and shit at organising their schedules", Lando groaned defensively.

"Okay, okay", Ria calmed the room down once Max squinted his eyes at his bestfriend, "then I guess they would have to make sure they do better", she shrugged, "is everything alright?".

"Yes, yes, sorry for snapping just then", Lando offered her a tight lipped smile.

Everyone carried on with what they were doing before the existencial question, Max seemingly as stuck on it as Lando, "is this an hypothetical thing or are we calling people by their names and working this out?", he whispered to Lando.

"It's fine, just a loose thought I had there", Lando grumbled.

.

Lina 🤎

Hi, Y/N!

You won't bother, don't worry - I think I miss having someone other than my boyfriend to talk to 😅

Would it be okay if you visited in the afternoon? Our morning routine is still a shitshow (literally and figuratively), so we would appreciate it if you came after her first nap, around two pm?

One of Lando's older couple friends had a baby a couple of weeks ago, and while you were dying to meet their baby boy as soon as he came earthside, you were respectful of their adjustment period so you waited for them to be up for visitors and were ready to comply with whatever schedule they offered.

"It smells nice in here", Lando commented as he stepped inside the kitchen, "what delicious food are you making and can I please have a bite?".

"I made a little tray for us, but the big one is to take for Lina and Theo - I can imagine they don't have much time for cooking, so food is welcomed by them", you smiled, setting the cheese grater down once the measurements were like the recipe stated.

"Are you going to visit today? I have some streaming with Max scheduled for this afternoon", Lando added.

"Lina told me that this afternoon was the only time they could handle some visits - you know how it is with new parents and newborns and all of that -, I didn't want to change their schedule when I have some flexibility with my schedule", you explained, "I'll give the little one a big kiss from you, then?".

"Well, in that case, I should give you two big kisses then - one for you", he kissed your lips once, "and then this one for the little one", he smiled before kissing you again.

You shared lunch in a semi comfortable silence, Lando telling you a bit about the stream they would be doing and you sharing some work updates from your end.

When Lando gets a text in the middle of watching Max send his virtual car to the curb, "who might that be that's brought such a big smile to your face?".

Lando checked the photo to make sure the baby's face was covered despite his friends having already posted him, tuning the phone to show the camera, "Y/N met our friends' baby boy for the first time", Lando gushed.

"That's the little nugget", Max cooed, "she looks very happy with a baby on her arms", he wiggled his eyebrows, "have you met him already?".

"No, I haven't yet! She could only go this afternoon and we had this so...", Lando tsked, admiring the picture one last time before setting the phone back down. The baby was perfectly nestled on your arms, hiding his face on your chest as you looked down at him with a big smile on your face.

Now that he thought about he, he hadn't seen such a big smile in quite some time, and he was really starting to believe he was the reason behind it. He was absent, more than usual and more than the standards of your relationship considering his job.

The air had shifted around you once you came back from meeting Lina's little boy and Lando could only pinpoint it to the subject he thought about earlier.

"Lan, did you hear what I said?", you asked as you showed him another picture of you touching your noise in the little boy's.

"It's just... are we okay, baby?", Lando questioned. Even though it seemed like he was the only one that felt there was something wrong - different at least -, surely you had noticed it too.

"What makes you say that?", you asked.

From the serious tone, your boyfriend mentally slapped himself. Whatever it was, he was on the wrong and you had indeed noticed it too.

"I've noticed you don't ask me for help with stuff like driving you somewhere or accompanying you to places, which is fine if you want to do things on your own, I'm not saying you can't have your own independence, you know I'm not controlling you in that way - obviously! Fuck, I'm rambling! What I mean is, I have been taking notice that you just assume that I'm not available, and your assumptions are not unfounded, and it makes you sad, and I myself am upset that it has reached this point", Lando stated.

"It's not great, I can tell you that, but we knew it would be like this, your schedule is not the regular nine to five - it is what it is, Lan", you argued.

"But it's not, not all the time anyway! I want you to know you can always count on me!", Lando stated, "Y/N, you are one of my priorities and I never want to let you down - I'm going to make sure that from now on I spend more time with you and that I'm by your side a lot more", he rubbed your palm, "damn, I was so stupid, I'm sorry, lovie".

"Lando, these things happen", you attempted, "now we can work on it".

"You can count on me for little and big things in life - you need to go to the post office? I'm there helping you put the letter in the box. Dinner with your friends? I'll find it in the schedule to go and I don't care who I have to tell no to!", he pointed his finger, "I never ever want you to feel like you don't belong in my life or like I don't want to be involved in yours, Y/N - I'm so so so sorry that it took me so long to notice it".

"It's in the past", you smiled, pecking his lips softly, "now, look at this cute little nugget, he's so cute, we have to go there another day so you can meet him, and I think Theo won't mind another traybake".

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

How to train your pet Human pt.2 (Yandere!Alien X GN!Reader)

part 1, part 3

CW: Abduction, imprisonment, yandere themes, death, pet/owner relationship, tickle torture, humiliation, sexual themes, angst

"There they are~" Kirtch bent to pick (Reader) up, lifting them easily like a child and carrying them with one hand under their butt. (Reader's) face scrunched up in embarrassment. They were wearing an ugly shirt, both baggy and synched tightly, flowy around the body but locked in place like a neck corset at the top and wrists. When Kirtch first presented the tacky gift, (Reader) had ran to hide, forcing Kirtch to wrestle the outfit onto them.

With all of the unnecessary buttons and ties, (Reader) was incapable of taking it off themselves, and was now sulking.

"I have a lot of duties today that cannot be completed in my office, so I thought you might enjoy coming with me so you don't have to be couped up alone." Kirtch gently knocked his forehead into (Reader's).

'Escape chance, escape chance, escape chance-' "Yeah, that sounds nice." (Reader) tried to contain their excitement, consciously aware of their heart beating loudly in their chest.

"Wonderful! I've packed a couple of toys to keep you occupied if you get bored, as well as snacks." He replied happily, seeming so pleased with himself as he briskly walked down the hall from his bedroom towards the main hall. The two passed by many other aliens walking up and down the corridors, none of whom seemed to be the same species as Kirtch. Everyone wore the same cloak, standing them out from the creatures in the shopping district, a uniform slightly lighter in color than Kirtch's. Most would pause while walking to rub a hand over where their noses should have been, and Kirtch would raise a hand in response.

"What are they doing?" (Reader) whispered.

"It is a sign of respect. I am their superior, so if they are not in a rush to get somewhere they are greeting me."

Fear tickled (Reader's) spine. "Are you guys in the military?"

Kirtch laughed, a high pitch clicking sound that almost sounded like a broken music box. "No. I'm just an upper level leader in our trading company."

They arrived in front of a decorated wall, and Kirtch squeezed (Reader) a little while smiling. "Now this is a very important meeting, I need you to be as quiet as possible, okay?"

(Reader) huffed. "I'm not a child."

"I know you aren't. You're a very sweet pet, who is most definitely a grown adult human."

They felt humiliated. It had been almost a month since they were bought by Kirtch, and they did everything in their power to not anger him or appear as though they needed "release". (Reader) constantly watched and waited for the perfect escape attempt, while fighting off Kirtch's affections in as non threatening a way as possible. Like they were emulating a cat. (Reader's) skin burned, but they held back their tongue.

The wall opened, revealing a board room (at least that's what (Reader) assumed it was), a bare room only decorated with a long table surrounded by stools. Kirtch sat (Reader) on the floor and pulled out a sack from the inside of his cloak. While they didn't want to immediately act the part of a good pet, (Reader) was curious as to what was in the bag. The first thing they pulled out, however, was a taxidermied cat. (Reader's) eyes widened, and they couldn't contain their anxiety, shaking as they stared into the cat's glass eyes. Was this some kind of threat?

"Do you like it? I've been meaning to buy you more human toys, so I thought you would appreciate a stuffed animal." Realizing that the 'gift' was not malicious, the nervousness immediately dissolved into mental fatigue.

"Oh. I get it. Stuffed animal. Yeah." They put the animal back in the bag, hoping Kirtch didn't think their exhausted smile was permission to buy more dead bodies.

More aliens entered the room, greeting Kirtch before taking their seats. (Reader) couldn't understand what the meeting was about, since they were all speaking in Kirtch's native tongue, but their voices and faces were tense. The meeting went on for well over an hour, but (Reader) found it surprisingly entertaining, dubbing over their conversation inside their mind like Mystery Science Theater, chuckling with how wild their hand movements were. It was very human of them.

(Reader) fucked up, accidently snorting at one of the angrier aliens. Although they didn't understand the language, one of his sentences sounded awfully like "Pineapple farts", and with how intense his face was, it made it seem like he was describing how his ass felt. Their sound was so quiet it was almost inaudible, but the alien still noticed and spun his head in (Reader's) direction so quickly his exoskeleton creaked. (Reader) bit their lip to hide a smile, turning away from the conference to pretend to munch on their fruit (?) slices.

The irate alien began ranting louder, and (Reader) caught a word they had heard from a few of the underlings they had been introduced to. Bah-blk. Human.

Shit.

They snuck a glance towards the group very slowly to view Kirtch's expression, worried they may have angered him by interrupting the meeting. And indeed, his almost perfectly flat face was pulled into a scowl, but it wasn't aimed at (Reader).

"(Reader), pet, could you come here for a moment?"

His voice was light and smooth, as it always was when speaking to (Reader), but Kirtch's face was grave as he refused to break eye contact with the alien in front of him; said alien's shell glistened like he was sweating under Kirtch's glare. (Reader), not wanting to be punished later, left their spot on the floor and shuffled over to their owner. Kirtch pulled (Reader) into his lap the second they were within his reach, still staring daggers at the poor alien across the table.

He spoke to the offender, holding (Reader) lovingly with one arm as if to make a point. The man was panicked, waving his arms and sweating profusely, sounding apologetic. It wasn't enough, whatever it was he was saying. He referenced (Reader) as Bah-blk again, and then he was dead.

Before (Reader) could understand what it was that Kirtch had pulled out of his robe, a soundless shot was fired across the table, green blood splattering across the wall as the alien's head was pierced by some kind of projectile.

Everyone turned away, unsurprised by the killing. It was a lukewarm reaction, as though this wasn't the first time they witnessed someone die at Kirtch's hand. The body fell, head slamming into the table with a wet thud.

(Reader) didn't know what he had said, but to kill him... It was jarring. The young adult hadn't payed any attention to the tears dripping down their chin until Kirtch wiped them off. The roughness of his hand startled (Reader), making them flinch away from his touch.

For the rest of the meeting (Reader) couldn't pry their eyes away from the dead body lying across from them. It was a nightmare seemingly without an end, staring at a corpse while his murderer held (Reader) tenderly, rubbing his thumb on their side absentmindedly while discussing business with colleagues like it was a regular Tuesday.

If (Reader) was more aware, they would be disgusted with themselves for not fighting Kirtch as he picked them up to go back to their room, but they just wanted to go back to the safety of their *bed*, and couldn't force their brain to focus on anything else.

The bed was more like a twin sized pillow nestled in a metal cage, but it was soft and felt secure, like when (Reader) was young and thought that hiding under their blanket would protect them from the shadow people in their closet.

"Are you alright, (Reader)?" Kirtch asked, his voice full of concern.

(Reader) curled up, pulling the blanket tight over their face.

Kirtch sighed, and crouched down by (Reader's) bed. "(Reader), please don't be upset with me. If this is about my colleague, please know that what I did was necessary."

"Murder is never necessary."

"He tried to accuse me of not being.. as invested in the job as I should be. And that the reason for my lack of dedication was you. He used very strong language." Kirtch placed a hand on (Reader's) back. "I told him not to disrespect you. Yet he continued."

(Reader) began crying, shaking under Kirtch's touch. "Are you saying that I'm the reason he's dead?"

"Oh, pet.." Kirtch sighed again, pulling (Reader) out of the fetal position and into his arms. "I've always been incredibly interested in humanity. When I was a young child, there was a 'book' in my father's study about primitive species, and that's how I learned about humans. Did you know that you and I experience life differently from one another? Our brains function differently. We have different pain receptors; our brains' physiology are almost nothing alike; the diseases humans are capable of developing simply for existing are concepts we've never had to worry about. Even how we perceive the color spectrum, humans are so unlike any other sentient species I have met."

"I was so fascinated by Earth, especially by humans. We are not allowed to visit Earth as it is a restricted area, so much of what we know is recorded knowledge from captured defectors. My chances of meeting a human were next to none. Then, we had to dock in Dol-Hu, a shady planet only inhabited by criminals and those in hiding. And wandering through the market, I saw you."

"The one thing I've always wanted, for the past seventy years, I recognized you as a human immediately, even though you were so much cuter than I could have expected. You're so soft, and fragile, in comparison to my armoured flesh. You were bent over, but I knew from descriptions I had memorized what you were. As one who has always loved Earth, I am fluent in every Earth language we know of, so I was excited to communicate with you. I was so eager to have a piece of humanity. And now here you are."

(Reader) rolled over, their heart clenching painfully as they looked up into Kirtch's sadly smiling face. "I wonder what I look like through your eyes."

Their heart began doing somersaults in their throat as the tears continued flowing.

"You may have been the only human I've ever known, but I can say with confidence that you must have been the best humanity had to offer. I only want to give you the best life possible."

(Reader) wrapped their arms around Kirtch's midsection, sobbing loudly. His body didn't bend or squish under the full strength of (Reader's) embrace. And that was how (Reader) fell asleep, crying themselves into a nap.

When they awoke, they were alone, lying in the bed with the cat tucked into their arms. (Reader) left the room to find Kirtch at his desk, working on paperwork. The giant heard (Reader) behind him, and turned his attention on them, smiling as he held out his arms in an offer to pick them up. And much to his surprise, (Reader) willingly entered into his embrace, and allowed him to set them on his lap without pouting or making a fuss.

"I have a few more documents to look over, then I can play with you, okay?"

"Okay." Their voice was quiet and monotone, (Reader's) mind still fuzzy from crying so much before falling asleep.

"Are you still upset? Is there anything I can do to make you happy?"Kirtch laid down his work, trapping (Reader) in his arms.

"No.. you can continue working."

"You're more important than my work. I consider your unhappiness to be a crises."

Worry began to prick at (Reader's) skin. "I'm really fine, we don't need to play!"

"Need?"

Memories of the day (Reader) was bought flashed through their mind, causing them to go red and hot as they started to squirm in Kirtch's embrace. "I-I- didn't mean it like that!"

One hand left (Reader's) body to grab something from Kirtch's desk. "Don't fret, I recently purchased a new toy I thought would bring you joy."

(Reader's) eyes bulged out as they froze in anticipation, their heart hammering in their chest. But what Kirtch retrieved did not appear safe to go near any genitalia, a strange contraption formed of multiple thin prongs on a handle. Embarrassed that they had assumed something sexual was about to happen, (Reader) bit the inside of their cheek, puzzling over the strange discomfort they were feeling. "What's that?"

Kirtch raised (Reader's) shirt, and dragged the device across their skin, causing an involuntary shudder. It tickled.

"Ah! No!" (Reader) accidentally laughed, trying to push Kirtch away. He trailed the toy from their pelvic area visible above their pants to their left armpit. The light tingling sensation forcibly clenched their stomach muscles as they let loose a howl of laughter.

They couldn't breathe correctly, laughing so hard that their spasming abdominals made it feel like they were choking. But they couldn't stop, begging Kirtch to "knock it off" while their cheeks hurt from the smile they had. That damn toy tickled every inch of their body, not even noticing when Kirtch removed their pants. They kicked futilely, unable to break free from the assault. Their sensitive skin was almost becoming painful to the touch, but the laughter only got louder.

"pleASE! KIRTCH, stop!!" (Reader) heaved. Their whole body felt tender, highly reactive to each touch. Which made them aware of the fact that the only thing separating them from Kirtch's lap was a thin pair of underpants. With how they had been writhing on his lap, they were relieved that Kirtch didn't seem to have a dick that could become aroused from such movements.

(Reader's) smile fell. I have no idea how Kirtch's species reproduces. Maybe he can get erections, but he won't get one for me because he sees me as a pet. An animal. Their heart turned to concrete as it dropped out of its cage.

Kirtch halted his attack when he saw (Reader) go limp. "Are you tuckered out, pet?"

(Reader) tried to slide off his lap like jelly. "I'm done playing. I want to go back to bed."

"Alright, my stubborn little grump, what is it now? You were all smiles but a second ago, so what is it plaguing your mind?"

They tried to scrunch up their nose to prevent more tears from sheepishly forming. "I'm not a pet. I'm a human. I want to be treated like an equal!"

Kirtch's smile was replaced by a hurt scowl. "Is it so unpleasant being my pet?"

"No!" (Reader) interjected, not understanding why it pained them so much to see Kirtch upset, "I just want to, I just.. I don't know. This is confusing, and it feels.. weird. You're really nice to me, and sometimes it feels like... but then other times you treat me like I'm a cat. This isn't what I want. Either be a bastard and treat me like an animal or treat me like-" Their words caught in their throat. Treat me like what?!

A fearful kiss was placed on their forehead, ghostly with hardly any pressure. Kirtch's hands trembled on (Reader's) sides. "All I wish is to adore you for the rest of your life."

He pulled (Reader) into his chest, petting their back in a comforting manner. "I'll give you anything you ask for, I'll do anything you ask of me. Just to keep you happy, with me. You are all that I've ever wanted. All I wish is to care for you, and spend all my attention on you. If there is anything you want, please ask me. I need you to love me."

(Reader) felt so confused. Like a squid was destroying their gut, everything was uncomfortable and scary. They knew that Kirtch viewed them as a pet, he loved them how (Reader) loved their family dog as a child. But when they heard him begging for their love, it made them wish for an odd moment that he wasn't an alien. That (Reader) was sitting on their boyfriend's lap right now, a strange human man who sometimes infantalized them but only out of affection. Why couldn't this be simple? Why did (Reader) want him to kiss them right at that moment?

"I want to go home. I want to meet someone kind and fall in love." (Reader's) words stabbed Kirtch in places he never knew could hurt.

"I can't do that, (Reader)..." Kirtch's embrace constricted almost painfully tight. "You're all I've ever wanted. You can't ask me to let you go. I'll take such good care of you, you'll see. I have the rest of your life to make you fall in love with me."

They sat there, holding one another in agonizing silence, both loving each other in a way that they couldn't explain. The way their brains functioned didn't just mean that Kirtch could see a wider range of colors than (Reader), but the way their species experienced love was too vastly different for the other to comprehend. Despite Kirtch wanting to own (Reader), that was the greatest love he had ever felt, since his species did not pair bond and only mated when two beings agreed amicably that they wished to procreate. He knew that humans felt many forms of love, love for a mate, love for their offspring, love for a friend.. but to something that never felt any of those forms of love, Kirtch couldn't understand the difference between them.

"I love you, my little pet. And I will always love you."

[inkskinned]

hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.

i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?

i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.

i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.

i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.

the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.

i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.

the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.

how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.

i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.

[theres-a-body-here]

Love Letter Aftermath

First part

The realization of receiving a love admission sinks in for the killers

Characters: Oni, Trapper, Deathslinger, Mastermind, Cannibal, Ghostface Warnings: Some spice Male!reader

The Oni - Kazan Yamaoka

He's angry

Angry at you for giving him that damn letter

And angry at himself for keeping it

He keeps it on his shrine

Even while he tries to distract himself with training between trials, your letter is all that's on his mind

At least once a day, for a couple of minutes, he stares at the letter while working up the courage to crumple it and dispose of it

He never can

When Rin found the letter, his heat sunk

She thought it was cute, but rolled her eyes at how Kazan was acting

The days following the letter, you've noticed in trials with Oni, he never downs you with his Kanabo anymore, only his Katana

Even during chases, when he's activated his blood fury right behind you, he stampedes off somewhere to down anyone else

And when he carries you to hooks, you've noticed how gently he holds you

But he never stays after hooking you and seems to avoid your gaze

Strangely, Rin has been giving you some leeway during trials as well

The Trapper - Evan MacMillan

When he got back to his realm after the trial, he immediately went to work on making a box for the letter

Yeah, a whole keepsake box for a single letter

He places it next to the box where he keeps his old drawings

Whenever he sees you in trials, he still gets those butterflies

If you step in one of his traps, he's immediately rushing to where he heard you scream

If he sees any other survivors trying to free you, he swats at them

Evan gently pulls at the jaw of the trap and pulls it apart, letting you retract your injured foot

He's trying his hardest not to ogle your legs

"Sorry," he mutters gruffly, his hands holding your leg softly while he inspects the damage

He picked up some gauze that one of the others dropped and begins to bandage your wound

He can feel your gaze burning holes into his mask as he works

He's the one to break the silence

"I've killed you... and your friends, over and over."

There's a long pause on your end before you respond

"I know"

You two leave it at that

The Deathslinger - Caleb Quinn

Caleb keeps the letter under the bar counter in his realm

Whenever he returns from an exhausting or lost trial, he looks at it

A small part of him still thinks you're messing with him

He's way too nervous and skittish around you now to do anything, so you're gonna have to initiate everything

In trials, you do your best to spend time with him

Especially when you insist that he treats you no different

When he carries you to hook, you take the moment to touch him

You turn your head to plant a kiss on the back of his neck

Caleb visibly shivers and lets out a groan

"Yer tryin' ta kill me, ain'tcha?"

"Is it working?"

Despite you asking otherwise, he tends to leave you alone when he can in trials, opting to hide the others

If you confront him about it, he'll deny it

The Mastermind - Albert Wesker

He keeps your letter in the inner pocket of his jacket

You definitely have his full attention now

Don't expect any special treatment, because he's not gonna give it

In fact, he seems to actively seek you out first if he knows you're in his trial

Wesker gets angry when you can't loop him for more than a couple of minutes

"Are you even trying? Pathetic"

While carrying you to a hook, he's lecturing you all the way

"You didn't run it tight enough. You were too greedy with the pallet. You didn't check your blind spots."

He'll get even more irritated if you start to tear up

Can't you see he's trying to help you?

Wesker refuses to have someone so vulnerable as an admirer

So you better get to it

If you do manage to improve and become better in trials, his attitude changes

It goes from scoldings to rewards

He takes off his gloves to hold your chin and pull you close

You feel his lips ghost over your cheek and shiver when he tightens his grip on you

He stares at your face, drinking up your reactions

And then he lets you go, watching as your face twists from dazed to confused

"What? Were you expecting a kiss?"

You're gonna have to do a lot more if you wanna get a smooch from him

The Cannibal - Bubba Sawyer

He tapped your letter to the side of his chainsaw

He gets all giddy when he glances at it during his sweeps, especially if he manages to down a survivor

It's his good luck charm

If he spots you in a trial, he'll literally drop everything to rush over and give you hug

Bubba would honestly hug you all trial if you let him

He's definitely become a bit more protective over you, maybe even prone to jealousy

He doesn't even let anyone work on gens with you, revving his chainsaw if anyone gets too close

Once everyone gets the message and leaves you two be, he'll sit behind you as you work and hug you

Expect lots of nuzzles

Bubba whines when the gen is completed and you have to stand up to find a new one

He follows you like a puppy until you find the next one and the process begins anew

The Ghostface - Danny Johnson

Danny doesn't really have anywhere he can store the letter safely

So he does the logical thing and memorizes it's contents, word for word

He doesn't care what happens to the paper

Sometimes during trials, he'll tease you by reciting it during chases

Even adding things you're certain you never added

"And I promise to always let you smash whenever and wherever you want," he says, mimicking your voice as you dangle from the hook

"I NEVER WROTE THAT!!"

Being her favorite, The Entity doesn't care if Danny spares you every trial

But he won't

Because he's a meanie

"No hard feelings, right boo?" He coos as he plunges his blade into your back

If you're sore about it, he's more than happy to make it up to you

He'll run his cold leather-gloved hands under your shirt, pressing you against a wall as you try to stay angry

"Come on, don't be like that," he mutters into your ear, squishing your sides

If you fold now, he'll tease you for being whipped

But if you stay strong, he'll pull out the big guns

He buries his masked face into your neck, slowly grinding his hips against yours

"You feel that, baby? You feel how sorry I am?" He growls, pressing his hard-on against you

[reiderwriter]

Show You What Devotion Is ❤️‍🔥

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: SMUT, fluff, MINORS DNI 18+

Word count:..... 12k...

Summary: After a lustful encounter on the jet, you and Spencer decide to try out a friends-with-benefits relationship. What you didn't expect was for his sex drive to be so high, and your need for him to lead you to his bed every night of the week.

Warnings: So many 💀, oral (M and F receiving), public sex multiple times, multiple creampies, protection never mentioned, fingering, car sex, alcohol consumption, pet names, degradation, sir kink I think at some point, choking, mentions of spit and other bodily fluids, I'm sure there are more, too.

A/N: Well. Here it is. Big thank you to Jungkook for releasing the song that gave me this fic idea that I was fully convinced was just going to be a nice little song about the number seven. Here's my masterlist, and my requests and asks are open if you want to shout at me for writing 12,000 words of filth! Settle down somewhere comfy for this one 💀 Song inspo:

Monday

The jet was calm and quiet with just the two of you on it as you stretched yourself out over the seats, desperate to find a comfortable position to curl up in and find some sleep. You had been out the entire weekend on a death-row interview, and after three days of dealing with high security prison inmates and their guards, you were feeling a bit restless. You hated the feeling of being cooped up in there, even if you knew you’d be getting out eventually.

You were just thankful that they’d sent you in the jet, because you sure as hell couldn’t imagine driving back right now. And as your only company was Reid, who wasn’t a fan of driving himself, especially over such long distances, it would have been a crappy end to an even crappier weekend. You looked up at the man now, and realised he was also trying his best to fall asleep, but he had a tense look on his face, and he was shifting in his seat, unable to get comfortable.

“Can’t sleep either?” you asked him, finally accepting that you probably weren’t going to get any relief any time soon. His eyes shot open, and he looked at you, finally registering that it was you that had spoken to him and not some figment of his imagination.

“Something like that, yeah,” he said, and looked away, letting the silence fall over you again.

“Do you want to maybe play cards or something?” you asked hopefully, desperate to find something to do for the last hour of your flight. From everything you’d learned about the man opposite you in your six months as a member of the BAU, you knew it probably wasn’t a good idea challenging him. But between being absolutely destroyed at cards and being caught in the discomfort of exhaustion with no ability to sleep, you’d choose the card games any day.

Besides, you could do with learning a little bit more about your coworker anyway. Despite earning your place on the team, and befriending most of the others pretty easily, Reid had always seemed a bit standoffish to you. He was always polite, of course, but the others had warned you that he didn’t take well to change, and your addition to the team was a pretty notable change in your team dynamic.

You were now the youngest member of the team, and you’d been trained in press liaising as a part of your training at the academy, so you took on a different role from the others to allow JJ to get out into the field more now that she was officially an agent. It wasn’t that you thought he disliked you, it was just that he needed to get used to you. Or at least that was what you were telling yourself.

It was why you were on the jet in the first palace, having asked Hotch for the opportunity to shadow Reid while he was working on the interview. He’d given you a look when you lied that it was to gain more experience, but he didn’t have anything against you trying to get Reid to warm up to you a little bit more, so he didn’t complain, and let the two of you go. But you hadn’t realised just how busy you would be with the work, and you hadn’t exactly become the best of friends either.

“You don’t want to play cards with me, Y/N,” he replied coolly, not even looking at you.

“Emily said you usually try to swindle people when you first play cards with them, why aren’t you trying that with me?” you asked, growing a little frustrated that your attempts were being blocked. It’d been the same when you’d invited him out for a drink the night before, and when you’d asked if he wanted to share a takeout in your hotel room the night before that. Polite rejections and the feeling of incompetence that left you wondering if you’d done something wrong.

“You’re too innocent for me to swindle, Y/N. It’d be too easy.”

“That’s pretty arrogant, don’t you think?” As a last ditch attempt to get him to bite, you thought insulting him couldn’t possibly hurt.

“Shit, okay, one game, the cards are in the cupboard over there.” He acquiesced and nodded behind him to the small kitchenette at the end of the jet.

“Why do I have to grab them, you’re closer?” you pouted a little bit, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking away again.

“You’re the one who wanted to play,” he grumbled. Rolling your eyes you threw off the blanket you’d wrapped around yourself and stumbled over to grab the cards.

On your way back however, the plane lurched to the side and you stumbled, dropping the cards everywhere and falling straight into the lap of Doctor Spencer Reid. He tried to catch you in his arms, but you’re position made it difficult for him to help you further. Having fallen face first, your torso was now pressed into the seat next to him, the rest of your body bent over his knee as if he were getting ready to spank you any minute.

One of his hands was pinned under your body weight, and the other that had come out to steady you was gripping dangerously close to your chest, not exactly helping with the mental images you were already fighting.

“Shit, I’m sorry I think we hit some turbulence,” you winced and tried to standup, and he groaned at the loss of contact as you moved.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he let out the curse as you stood up, but you weren’t upright for long before your legs gave out underneath you, another lurch from the plane depositing you directly into his lap, your legs straddling either side of his and your chest pressed up against his. This closer position allowed you to feel more of him pressed against you, and your eyes widened in realisation.

“Fuck, Spencer are you hard right now?” You groaned from on top of him, stilled by the realisaton. He scowled at you, again, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Sorry, it’s just been a long weekend, and I couldn’t…” he let out a frustrated sigh and you waited for him to continue, suddenly not so eager to get out of the embarrassing position.

“Have you been hard this entire time? Shit, that’s why you didn’t want to grab the playing cards, didn’t want me to see you like that, right?” you could hear the grin in your voice, and you knew you were being risky but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Shut up, Y/L/N, I really don’t need this right now,” he groaned out again, but made no move to push you off.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I know what you need right now.”

“Don’t fucking tease, Y/N, I’m serious. Let’s just pretend that this never happened, okay?” His mouth was saying one thing, but you were pretty sure from the hands that were gripping your hips now that he wasn’t exactly being the most honest with himself in that moment.

“What if I…. helped you out?” you whispered it out almost silently, and Reid’s eyes snapped open to look at you.

“Don’t joke with me right now, Y/N, it isn’t funny and it isn’t cute.”

“I’m not joking.” Your eyes locked and you didn’t say anything else, content to watch him wage a war in his own mind, curious about which side would win.

“Get on your knees,” he said eventually, and you did, climbing out of his lap and kneeling next to his seat, your heart-beating out of your chest now. “Good girl.”

The heat pooled between your legs with those words, and you let out a small whimper as he popped the button on his pants. He pulled out his dick and you stared at it in wonder. You could see the precum shining on his tip as he gave it a few preliminary pumps, his mouth open as he finally found some relief.

You slid your hands up his legs and rested them on his thighs, watching his face and ready to pounce on him the moment he gave you the word.

“Look at you, desperate little whore. You want to suck me off that bad, baby?” he crooned at you, and you found yourself unable to answer.

“Bet you’ve been trying to do this all weekend. Trying to get me back to that hotel room of yours, trying to get me to drink with you, when what you really wanted was for me to stuff my cock down your throat, right?”

It was taking all of your willpower to not just reach your tongue out and lick your way up his shaft, now, your body practically begging for you to touch him.

“Well, go ahead princess. Go ahead and show me what a needy little whore you are.” You waited for no further instruction, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and your tongue around the tip.

You played with it for a few seconds, giving him a few strokes while you waited to see his reactions. He grabbed a fist of your hair, making sure to push it away from your face so he could see exactly what you were doing at all times. With that, you started pushing your head down on more and more of him, seeing how far you could manage to get before hitting the back of your throat.

When you hit your max, you pulled off of him and did it again, starting to pick up pace as you worked your hands over the few inches that couldnt fit.

“Fuck that’s it, princess, just like that.” He moaned, not taking his eyes off you for even a second.

You bobbed your head up and down on him now, feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with each noise he let out.

“Sucking me off right here on the jet, such a little slut, aren’t you?” he said down at you and you couldn’t help the moan you let out around his cock, the vibrations causing him to tighten his grip on your hair and hiss out a curse.

“That’s it keep going, just like that baby,” he whispered, his hand now starting to push you down a little further on his dick each time, his head thrown back in ecstasy. You knew he was getting close, and you were desperate to feel his cum down your throat.

“Fuck, yes, just like that baby, just like that keep going.” The muscles in his legs were tense under your hand as you pushed your head down right to the base of his cock, stretching yourself past your limits and breathing him in deeply. After that, it was only a few more seconds until you could feel the hot spurts of cum hit the back of your throat.

You looked up at him through his orgasm, and you swore it was the best view you’d seen before in your life. His mouth was open in a moan, and the hand that wasn’t controlling your movements was raked through his own tousled locks.

Eventually, he pulled you off of him, and you swallowed the remaining cum still inside your mouth, going as far as to catch the few drops spilling out with your fingertips and delicately lick it off, knowing he was back to watching your every move.

He pulled you up to a standing position, his eyes still locked on yours, and you could see he was getting ready to give you another instruction, to use you again to find his own pleasure. Before he had the chance though, an announcement on the PA system had him jumping as far away from you as possible.

“Hey, sorry about that earlier turbulence folks. We’re about ten minutes out of Quantico, so we’re about to descend. You know the drill, seatbelts, please.” The pilot was off the line as quickly as he came on it, and you were left in silence once more.

Fumbling with his pants, Reid put himself together again before guiding you into your seat and taking up his place again in the seat opposite.

“I didn’t mean for it to end like this, shit we don’t have time for me to return the favor…” he seemed apologetic about that and you were finally snapped out of your daze.

“Reid, you really don’t have to do that… I just helped you out a little, is all.”

“No, I’m going to pay you back for this. I swear.” And there it was again, the pounding of your heart as he looked at you like that. You unintentionally clenched around nothing, your frustration almost doubling knowing there could’ve been more if you’d had more time.

“Feel free to say no, of course, but how do you feel about making this a regular thing?” you asked, your voice low, trying not to reveal how desperate you were to be under him right now, certain it would put him off.

“Like a… friends with benefits, thing?” He asked, his head perking up in curiosity.

“Yeah. If you want.” You gulped down. “Obviously, you can say no. We’re coworkers, so it could become weird, but it could also be really convenient to have someone on cases to help you out if you’re ever, you know…”

“Y/N, you’re rambling,” he smiled at you.

“I know, I really want you to say yes,” you admitted then immediately cursed your lack of filter.

“Yes.” He said. And that was that.

Tuesday

To say that stepping off of the jet had bought you back down to reality would be an understatement. After parting from Spencer with a terse wave and a strained smile, you’d spent your entire commute home thinking you’d just fucked up in the most major way possible.

As far as you could tell, the man didn’t even like being in your company and was just okay with you being his coworker, and then you’d suggested you give him a blow job on government property? Yeah, you were insane. That was the only possible explanation.

Needless to say, you got no sleep that night. You could only imagine how shitty you looked dragging yourself into the bullpen the next morning, coffee in hand and twitching like a rabbit that knew it was being followed by a wolf.

“God, Y/N, you look like you’ve been through hell and back. I thought you and Reid only went for an inmate interview?” Emily questioned you as soon as you stepped through the door.

“Yeah, yeah, it was okay,” you squeaked out, not quite adept at hiding your emotions just yet. “I just didn’t get much sleep is all. Shitty hotel beds, you know?” You smiled at her, and she nodded from experience.

“Oh, tell me about it, this one time I was sharing a room with JJ and the metal springs in the mattress we’re just sticking out the top. It’s a miracle these places make any money.”

“Well, they always have FBI Agents blasting through desperate for a room, I guess,” you joked with her half-heartedly, still feeling the tension in the room.

“What are you guys talking about?” He creeps up behind you to join the conversation, but you know it’s him. You turn around and finally get a look at him. Reid stood there, looking relaxed, with a small smirk on his face. His hands in his pants pockets, leaned back against Emily’s desk next to his, effectively cutting off your route to your own desk behind him.

“Y/N was telling me about the crappy motel you guys got lumped in this weekend. Bummer right?”

“I don’t know, I slept just fine. You do look a little tense, Y/N,” he looked at you again, and you couldn’t help the glare you shot at him. He was messing with you. The fucker was actually messing with you.

“I must’ve just pulled the short straw.” You send him a strained smile, trying to end the conversation there.

“You should’ve said something about it on the jet, I would’ve let you rest instead.” You freeze then. Surely he wasn’t going to reveal to the entire office, or at least to Emily, what the two of you did on the jet.

“You didn’t have to play cards with me, you know. I know how exhausting it can be to keep up with me. I have pretty good stamina.” This time you didn’t hold back and you did shoot daggers at him, which only achieved bringing him one step closer to laughter.

“Ooh, rookie mistake. Don’t play with Reid, Y/N, he’ll take you for all you’re worth.” Emily shot back before making her way to the kitchen area, content with the advice she had given.

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” You mumbled, eyes still locked with Reid’s as you made to push past him. His hand brushed yours as you did, and you almost jumped at the contact. God, why was he doing this to you. Up until yesterday, he hadn’t ever bothered to even look in your direction, and now he was making you dizzy at work and you didn’t know how to deal with it.

The rest of the day you did your best to ignore him, and you really had to try. Everytime you went to grab yourself another drink, he’d trail along behind you, leaving you to make a U-turn to ask Morgan or Prentiss questions instead. If you went to get some files, he’d do the same, and you found yourself grabbing the wrong files in your haste to avoid talking to him again.

It was a ridiculous game of cat and mouse, and you knew that eventually he would catch up to you, and then you would have to come face to face with the man who had consumed your thoughts for the last 24 hours. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if it was dread you were feeling or anticipation.

In the end, he resorted to a more direct method that you couldn’t ignore.

“Hey, Y/N, I need to discuss some of the files from this weekends interview, do you have five minutes?” he said it loud enough for those around you to hear, so there was no escape. You took a deep breath and acquiesced,

“Great, let’s go grab the files and we can get started.” From all your self-defence training, you knew you should never let your assailant get you to a secondary location, but with him, you knew there was no escape. You let him guide you to the storage room, not even bothering to make small talk on the way down.

The door wasn’t even closed before he turned on you and started talking.

“If yesterday was bad for you, then we don’t have to ever do it again, but if you keep ignoring me like that, they’re going to realise that something is wrong.”

“Take a second to think about why I’m ignoring you, Reid. You’ve practically been on top of me all day, I can’t think when you’re around and I have work to do,” you whisper shout at him, even though theres no one in the file room he’s pulled you into.

“I wasn’t on top of you, I’d have enjoyed it very much had I been on top of you. Instead, I’ve been trailing behind you because you won’t talk to me.” He replied, shoulders lifting to his ears in his defense.

“Do you not want to do this anymore?” he asked you and you took in a sharp inhale of breath. He was giving you an out. You logically knew that you should take it, push down whatever it was you were feeling and pretend like yesterday had never happened. But all thoughts of doing just that left your head as he moved one step closer to you.

“Spencer…” you whispered into the room, as he moved closer still, eventually coming to cage you in against the wall.

“Do you really not want me to repay you?” he moved his hands down your body, a ghost of a touch really, not at all enough for what you wanted and getting nowhere near where you needed.

“Spencer, we shouldn’t be doing this at work. What if someone comes down here?”

“Doing what? I’m just asking you a question.” He gripped your thighs and pulled you again him, and you could feel the length of him against your stomach. “And besides, that didn’t matter to you yesterday.”

“Fuck, Spencer…” you groaned out, screwing your eyes shut. He trailed his hands further still and they finally found your ass over your skirt.

“I felt just as unsure about this earlier, you know. Thought it was going to create a weird tension in the office. Then you walked in this morning, wearing this skirt and suddenly I didn’t care. Just needed to have you.” He pulls your leg up, pressing his in between your thighs before you can think of closing your legs in modesty.

“I just want to feel you, will you let me do that?” He whispers against your skin and you whimper as his lips ghost over you.

“Yes, yes Spencer, please…” your brain shuts off and you give in, and suddenly he has your skirt around your waist and you tights and panties aorund your ankles in what seems like only a flash of a second.

“So fucking perfect and obedient for me, aren’t you, pet?” You whimper as he trails a finger along your sensitive clit, and you twitch as he begins his movements, rubbing slow circles into you.

“Fuck, look at you, clenching around nothing. I was just going to come in here and make you cum on my fingers but you’re begging to be filled, aren’t you, Princess?” He murmurs finally pushing on finger into you as he continues to to rub your clit with his thumb. You bury your head into his shoulder and try your best to muffle the disgusting moans dripping from your mouth as you plead with your coworker.

“What was that, pet? You’re going to have to say it a bit louder, I can’t hear you?” He picks up his pace and you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill down your face.

“Fuck me. Please, Reid.” Not removing his hand from between your legs, he unbuttons his pants and you see his cock again for the second time in two days. You can’t believe you managed to get the entire thing down your throat yesterday. You stare at him with lust-clouded eyes, begging him silently.

“I haven’t got a condom, princess. Are you on the pill?” He asks, giving himself a few terse strokes, too far from your reach to help out. You nod vigorously, unable to form actual words now and not trusting yourself to keep quiet as your anticipation builds.

“Perfect baby, now relax and I’ll take care of you, okay?” He gently pulled his hand away from your core, quickly replacing it with his pulsating cock, pushing in slowly and deep.

“So tight for me, baby, you feel amazing.” He pauses for a second to allow you to adjust to his size, but all too soon he’s hammering into you, not caring to control his speed or his strength, just using you like he’s a man delirious with lust and you love it.

You clutch his shirt, and with each and every thrust you scream a little bit, unable to hold yourself back from the pleasure thats ripping through you. You’re making so much noise that after a few minutes, he brings a hand to your mouth, closing it over you and effectively cutting off any noises you make from escaping.

“You need to be quiet, honey, as much as I want to hear you, we don’t need anyone to come around here asking questions.” But you’re too far gone to care, your judgement too clouded, your head and body too full of him and what he’s doing to you to care at all who knows about it. You know he’s right, but you just keep moaning into his hand until finally, your body can’t take the stimulation anymore and you feel yourself tip over the edge, tightening around him as you ride out your high.

“Fuck, that’s it princess, I’m gonna cum inside you, okay?” He says and you use what feels like the last of your strength to nod as you feel him shoot his load inside of you.

You don’t know how long the two of you stay joined there, but the post-sex clarity hits you like a tonne of bricks again as he pulls out and you genuinely start questioning your sanity as he cleans you up and pulls your panties back up into the right position.

“Shit Spencer, we can’t do that again,” you say. “What if someone had caught us?”

“Don’t say that as if you weren’t just turned on by the very thought of that happening,” he shot back. “But yes, we’re going to need some rules if we’re going to keep this up.” You nod at him, and the two of you make for the exit of the room, aware that you’d already been away for suspiciously long.

Luckily, your teammates are all too busy to notice that neither of you return with the files you went to look for.

Wednesday

The knock at your door was sharp and insistent, but you were tired so it took you a few minutes to cross your apartment to reach the door. You weren’t sure what you were expecting to greet you there at 9pm on a wednesday evening, but it sure as hell wasn’t Spencer Reid, looking a little damp from the rain.

“I’m glad you’re home. I thought you would be considering you told Penelope you had no plans when you left earlier, but there was always the possibility that you wouldn’t be and then I would be stuck out here in the rain again and I wouldn’t get to see you and I really needed to see you.” He got the jumble of words out as quickly as he could, not even leaving you enough time to say hello before he was rambling.

“Spencer, slow down. What are you doing here?” You asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Truthfully, you’d spent the last half an hour doing your best not to fall asleep on your couch as you tried to get some reading in, so you weren't exactly the best prepared for guests. You’d rid yourself of your work clothes as soon as you reached your house, the discarded clothes still laying in a pile in your bedroom, and you’d changed into an oversized t-shirt you’d bought a few years ago that was becoming a bit threadbare with constant use.

“I thought we could talk.” He said and offered no further explanation. It was cold and you wrapped your arms around yourself, but the door was letting in the cold breeze that accompanied the rain so you moved aside and gestured for him to make himself at home.

He took stock of your apartment as he walked in and you felt so exposed as he started taking everything in. He was a profiler, a really good one at that, and he was looking now at your bookshelves, the pictures around your apartment, the little trinkets you’d collected over the years. You should have been squirming under the surveillance of it all, but you almost wanted to show him around, talk him through it all and show you every part of you that he hadn’t seen yet. God, you must’ve been crazy.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” you asked, returning to your seat on your couch and gesturing for Reid to sit down, too. He took up a chair on the opposite side of the room, sitting only on the edge of the seat, body tense and shoulders set in a tight line.

“Us. I thought it’d be best if we set some… ground rules you know. After yesterday and the jet…” you sat up then, too and tried not to avoid looking at the mirror you knew was on your shelf, knowing that all you’d see was the crimson staining your face and wondering what he would learn from that.

“Yeah… Yeah of course, we should talk about that. That sounds… smart, I think.”

“I did some research, and apparently we should start with setting boundaries. Things we won’t do, things that would make this easier for us.”

“Right, what kind of… boundaries were you thinking?” Your heart was beating out of your chest waiting for him to continue. The sex between you was so easy that you forgot that neither of you was the best at communicating with the other, that your brain seemed to switch off in his presence and refused to turn itself back on until you’d ended up underneath him.

“There are certain things I won’t do in the bedroom. I don’t like being choked and I don’t…” he trailed off, his face going bright red, “I don’t like not being in control.” He finally finished, looking very shy for a man who just admitted that he took an exclusively dominant role in the bedroom.

“That’s fine with me. Just for the sake of transparency, I’m okay with that. Choking that is. And not being dominant.” You tripped over your words, trying to convey your meaning.

“Great, that’s totally great.” You sat there in silence for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Is there anything you won’t do?”

“Oh right,” you thought about it for a few seconds and then gave him your reply. “As exciting as that was yesterday, I think we shouldn’t be doing that in the office again. I’m not… against public sex, but I’d prefer not to get arrested for public indecency by one of our colleagues.”

He nodded vigorously and looked like he was about to say something else, but you continued.

“Other than that, I’m pretty open. No threesomes though,” You blushed, trying to find the right words to use. “If we’re going to do this, I don’t really want to share you.”

“That’s a good point. We should be exclusive for however long we do this for. The increased risk of attaining a sexually transmitted disease when actively engaging with two or more sexual partners is around 11%, so it’d be safer for us both to just use each other.”

The way he said it was so clinical that you almost flinched, but he didn’t notice your reaction and kept going.

“Is that everything? No other objections?” You thought on his question for a few minutes, and then shook your head.

“Nothing I can think of, but maybe we should keep checking in? Just in case, you know.”

“Yeah, communication is really important in relationships.” He paused for a second, as if realising what he said. “Not that this is a relationship, in the traditional sense, but every human connection can be described as a relationship, so I guess this is a relationship as well. You know what I mean.” You laughed a little at him then, his over-explaination relaxing you a bit, glad you weren’t the only one who was finding this situation unavoidably awkward.

“Spencer, calm down, I understand. Is that all you wanted to discuss?” You look at him with a smile, crossing and uncrossing your legs on the couch, finally falling back into a comfortable position. His eyes trailed down to your legs then, finally taking in your appearance. He raked his eyes up your bare legs, your t-shirt barely hitting the tops of your thighs, his gaze lingering there for a few seconds before he forced himself to meet your eyes again.

“I never did get to pay you back for your help, you know?” He licked his lips, and you felt your pussy clench in anticipation. If this was how you reacted to a simple question, you were well and truly fucked if you thought you’d ever be able to function correctly with him around.

“I said you didn’t have to, remember?” You tried to keep your voice even and low, but your body was alert in anticipation now

“But I want to. Will you let me?” He asked, finally moving himself off of the chair and walking over to you. He knelt at your feet and ran his hands up your still crossed legs, grabbing them and gently coaxing them open.

“Please, princess, let me show you my appreciation.” he begged you and you nodded, giving in so easily to his pleas.

“Use your words.” He said, still letting you know who was in control of this situation, even if he was below you right now.

“Yes, Spencer, yes, you can do it.” His hands were trailing up the inside of your leg now, sending goosebumps up your arms, and growing the pit of desire that was burning for him.

“Do what? You need to tell me exactly what you want, right princess? Isn’t that what we discussed?” He placed a chaste kiss to your knee now and your body was begging you to just twine your hands in his hair and press him between your legs.

“Spencer, please use your tongue and make me cum,” you begged him, and his hands instantly moved to pull your panties down. Once he’d rid you of the garments, he hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you into him, spreading your legs apart and finally looking at you.

“This wet for me already, princess?” he smiled up at you, a devastatingly sweet smile from his devilish position. You whimpered slightly and he finally, finally lowered his head, extending his tongue and taking his first swipe at your core.

You grabbed at his hair then, but he pulled away, grabbed your hands and pinned them at either side at you with his own and then went down again, beginning to lick and suck at your centre once more.

When he reached your centre, it was all you could do not to buck up into his face, involuntarily fighting his grip so you could get closer still to his tongue, feel even more friction as he drew small circles, before closing his entire mouth around it and giving you all the attention you had been craving since your interruption two days ago.

You knew from your experience in the file room that Spencer was somewhat naturally gifted in the bedroom, but you put that mostly down to the fact that he was a good size and had pretty notable stamina. But now you realised he was probably the best you were ever going to get. Most men you’d been with hadn’t even wanted to entertain the idea of giving you head, let alone begged you for the opportunity and then drinking you in like you were the last drop of water in the desert and he was a man parched with thirst.

You writhed and moaned into him, feeling your orgasm gain on you as you felt his pace pick up. Looking down at him and catching his eye was the last thing you could do before your eyes rolled back in pleasure, the smile in his eyes so bright, enjoying having you on his tongue so much that you couldn’t handle it anymore.

He didn’t pull off of you immediately, letting you ride his face through your orgasm, your thighs squeazing him slightly before he let go of his grip on your hands and pulled himself away from you. You gasped for breath on the sofa, still softly twitching in pleasure, as he lifted himself off the ground.

“You did so good, princess,” he said patting your head, and you became instantly aware of the painful erection he was sporting through his pants, face to face with it now he was standing up. You opened your mouth, readying yourself to ask for more of him when you heard a phone ring from the other side of the room.

You didn’t recognise the ringtone, but it seemed like Reid did, as he dropped a curse and quickly moved himself back to the chair he’d previously occupied and picked it up quickly.

“Hotch, what is it?” Spencer murmured into the line, and with that you knew you weren’t getting anything else that night. After a short conversation, Reid hung up, and turned to you again.

“We’ve got a case. You’ll probably get the call in a few minutes. We didn’t discuss this earlier, but it’s best if no one else finds out about this.” He said, gathering all of his things, as you covered yourself again. You made to pull your panties up your legs again, but he got to them first.

“No, these are mine now.” He said, so confidently that you just nodded, slightly dumbfounded, and did your best to not pull him back over you again. You were seriously contemplating it, seeing how quickly you could make him cum when another phone rang, and you recognised it as your own.

He petted your hair again, grabbed the last of his things and stuffed your panties inside of his jacket pocket, and said a final goodnight, leaving you to answer the phone alone in your apartment. You sat there subdued in the moment as you realised you were in love with the man, and couldn’t do a thing about it.

You were in love with him, and he hadn’t even once kissed you.

Thursday

Alaska. The case had taken you all the way to Alaska, and you were suddenly desperate to get back to the rain you’d left behind in Virginia. You were cold and the wetness had seeped into your body from the day traipsing around the dumpsite of your newest unsub and your motel room was cold and you were miserable.

Your motel was small, but still large enough to afford each of you your own room, considering there was no one else passing through town at this time of the year, so you didn’t feel bad about turning your light back on at 2am and grabbing the book off your nightstand, hoping it would help lull you to sleep.

Not even five words into the page, a quiet knock interrupted the unending quiet, faint but recognisable from when he’d knocked on your door only the previous night. Your heart raced as you moved to the door and you opened it for him quickly.

“Hi,” you said as you saw him there, looking just as cold as you felt.

“Hey. My room was cold, and I saw your light on…” he whispered, letting his voice trail off. You opened the door for him and he came in quickly, not waiting to risk anyone seeing the two of you, even if it was the middle of the night.

“Yeah, it’s not just you. I’m one cool draft away from piling all of my luggage over me and hoping it helps me warm up. You’d think they’d have extra blankets or something.”

“Oh, I’m sure they did, I saw Prentiss walking up to her room with a pile earlier,” he laughed and you laughed with him, his smile infectious and the temperature leaving you deliriously sleepy.

“You know, we could probably get warm if we got in together,” he suggested, and before he could explain the science behind it, you jumped at the idea.

“Yes, please, I’m willing to try anything right now.” You dove back under the covers, still wrapped in your fluffy pajamas, lifting up the covers to let him under too. He climbed in after you, and for a second you were wondering if he was just going to lie beside you for a while and then leave when he was warm enough. He quashed those thoughts the second he put his head on the pillow next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, holding you as if you were a teddy bear.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth as his breath tickled the back of your neck, huddling closer into him until your legs were tangled and your chests were flush against each other.

“Stop giggling and get some sleep,” he whispered down at you through a smile, his eyes closed, unaware of the look of adoration you couldn’t wipe from your face.

“You know if we really wanted to huddle for warmth, skin-to-skin contact would be much more effective,” you teased him, and he groaned into you, gripping you that much tighter.

“Do not tempt me, Y/N. It’s 2am and we’re working a case, we need some sleep,” he whispered down at you, but you were enjoying teasing him, so you continued, unrelenting.

“It didn’t take us very long any of the other times, Spencer,” you burrowed your head into his neck so he couldn’t see you as you knew he was about to react to your challenge.

“You’re a brat, you know that right?” he sighed, looking down at the top of your head and waiting for you to meet his eyes, but you just nodded into him, and he rolled his eyes and fell back into a comfortable position, but the insinuation in your words stuck to him. You felt him shift next to you, and started slowly trailing your hand down his chest.

“Unless you really want to be working this case tomorrow on one hour of sleep, I’d suggest you stop this before you can’t anymore,” he growled into your ear.

“I think I’ll take my chances, you say, your hand finally reaching his waistband and snapping it against his skin once, showing him exactly what it was you wanted. He grabbed your hands to stop your movements, but from the way he shifted his weight, you could feel that he’d already taken your words to heart.

“So fucking desperate for it, can’t even leave you alone for twenty-four hours before you’re sticking your hands in my pants, huh, princess?” His voice was a low grumble in your ear, and that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach was back.

“Well, I’m tired tonight, so how about you show me just how much you want this?” He rolled you over, still pinning your hands with one of his larger ones, and started rolling your pajamas down your legs, just enough to access your pussy.

“Touch yourself, baby, get yourself ready for me,” he let go of your hands now and even in the dark you knew he would be watching your every movement. Lying on your side, you moved one hand down to your clit, beginning to rub slow circles into yourself, letting little gasps and moans escape from your mouth for his benefit.

After a few minutes of touching yourself, getting yourself ready, you reached behind you to Reid’s crotch, fumbling for a second before finally grabbing his dick through his pajamas. He didn’t make a sound in protest, so you continued, stroking his half hard dick until he was fully erect for you.

You gathered some of your wetness on your fingers and pushed two of them inside your pussy, stretching yourself out, beginning to synchronise your two hands so you’d both feel the pleasure together. Spencer was still frustratingly silent, not even moving further than he needed to to allow you better access. Desperate for his attention, you decide to tease him a little bit.

“Do you like that, sir?” You feel his dick twitch in your hand, and throwing a glance over your shoulder, you can see that his jaw is clenched. You panic for a second, thinking maybe he wasn’t into the pet name you’d just dropped from your lips, but he finally responds.

“You just keep working hard to make me happy, princess, okay?” He says and you grin in triumph.

“Yes, sir.” You respond. Instead of picking up your pace, you decide you’ve gone long enough without him inside you so you release him and pull your fingers out of your pussy, licking your juices off your fingers. You push your ass back into position again, lining his tip up with your core as you reach behind you to grab the base of his dick and finally feel him enter you.

Unlike the first time he’d been in you, you didn’t want this to end fast. You wanted to feel him filling you up forever, hold him inside of you. You started thrusting back in torurously slow movements, letting him get so far out of you that he feared he was going to fall out and then pushing yourself back on so deep there was nowhere else he could go.

Refusing to pick up the pace, you continue your movements for the next few minutes, but you feel him growing restless beside you. He lets out little hisses each time he feels the cold on his skin, and he’s breathing deeply, hands bawled into the sheets so he doesn’t touch you like he promised he wouldn’t.

But this feels too much like giving you control, so he starts talking to you again, trying to tease more movement out of you.

“So content to be filled with my cock, huh, baby? You want to savor it, right?” You whimper at every question, the feeling of him inside you and his gravelly voice driving you insane.

“Such a little whore, using my dick to get off when you should be sleeping.” Your pace increased after that, your body desperate to show him how eager you were to be taking all of him inside you.

“Oh? Thought you wanted to keep it slow tonight, slut, you’re getting sloppier.” You were pushing back fervently now, desperate for release, begging him for more and more until you couldn’t take it. Reaching back, you grabbed one of his hands and placed it over your breast, silently begging him to take control.

“Should I give my little whore what she wants?” You simply moaned in reply, unable to do anything else. But that was all he needed and he started matching your thrusts with his own, forcing your pace to increase until your vision was blurry with need.

You were hanging on by a thread now, his fingers rolling the nipple of the breast in his hand around, pinching it hard every few strokes.

“Spencer, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum, please, please, please…” you had no idea what you were begging him for, but it seemed like he did, unrelenting in his thrusts.

“It’s okay baby, you can do it. You have my permission.” Once again, you came undone in his arms, and he wasn’t far behind. You fell asleep there in his arms, not even bothering to clean yourself off or make him pull out, just the two of you holding each other on a cold night.

When you woke up, he was gone, and even though you knew it was what was best, you still felt a little crack in your heart start to form.

Friday

It had been over a week since Spencer had sneaked into your room in Alaska and he hadn’t touched you since. With the case in full swing, you hadn’t had the time to sneak off together, and the hotel had since fixed their heating system after a few timely complaints from Rossi and Prentiss, so you had no excuses to gravitate to each other either.

You were back from Alaska now though, and stuffed into a booth at your favorite bar with your team for a post-case celebration. The booth was round, and you were stuck in the middle with nowhere to move, flanked on either side by Morgan and JJ, who respectively had Reid and Prentiss on either side of them, Garcia, currently at the bar, rounding out the bunch.

“Okay, one round of shots for my favorite team of Special Supervisory Agents, and the Good Doctor of course - do not try to back out of this, it’s happening.” Garcia returned with six shots of tequila and you winced. You’d never drank tequila and come out unscathed.

“Penelope I love you, but you know what tequila does to me,” you groan, trying to blink back the memories of the last time the poison had passed your lips. You’d been out on a girls night out, and after a few rounds of tequila and not a care in the world, you’d started answering any and every question the girls had put to you like you were under the influence of a truth serum.

“Exactly, sweetie, and it’s because I know that I want you to drink up, you’ve been secretive these last couple of days and I want to get to the bottom of it.”

“What happens when you drink, Y/N?” Reid asked. You could heart the curiosity in his voice, and like everytime you’d felt his attention on you in the last week and a half, your chest thumped painfully, trying to burst from your chest and reach out to him.

“Oh, it was hilarious. She was a venerable chatterbox, and she was so open with her opinions on everything. She was answering every question with the cutest sincerity.” Garcia filled him in on the details and you wanted to melt into the couch.

“We asked her what drink she wanted next and she monologued for ten minutes about some of the different choices on the menu and whether she thought they would taste good.” JJ continued.

“And when we asked more probing questions, she’d start by saying ‘I’m only telling you this because it’s you three and I love you,’” Emily finished for them.

Thankfully, the three of them had noticed that you were quite a bit past it that day, and that they shouldn’t be really asking you anything inappropriate that you’d regret answering. You were especially thankful for it now though, as you could only imagine the things you’d say about Reid if your tongue loosened. About how he felt when he was inside you, about how he’d given you the best orgasm of your life, about how you were in love with him and afraid that if you told him you’d never have him in your arms again.

“One shot won’t hurt, Y/N. You had like five last time before you started spouting wisdom, what’s the worst that one could do?” You sighed, knowing that you couldn’t say no to Penelope Garcia, and thinking that maybe you didn’t even want to.

“Okay, one shot, and no more.” You grabbed the salt and the lime, got ready for your shot as the others did the same, and then with one quick tip up, it was burning a trail down your throat.

“Great, now that that’s finished, I’m going to get us some real drinks, any requests?” After a few shouts for beers and cocktails, Prentiss left the table and went to order the next round.

“How about a game?” Garcia suggested innocently enough, “maybe two truths, one lie? Truth or dare?” You rolled your eyes at her probing, knowing that she only had good intentions. She’d checked in on you a few times during your time in Alaska as well, after you started moping about the loss of Reid in your bed. It had only been the fact that he’d made you promise to keep your relationship to yourselves that had stopped you from spilling everything to Garcia the morning you woke up and realised he was gone.

“Baby girl, you’re scaring the kid,” Morgan laughed from his place at your side, and you breathed a sigh of relief, until he opened his mouth again. “That being said, is there something you need to get off your chest, Y/N? You’ve been acting all sad recently.”

“I’m fine! Totally fine, just not getting enough sleep, I think.”

“Oh, is it nightmares? We’ve all had them, I think it’s part of the job description now.” Emily returned with the drinks and latched on to the end of your conversation.

“Not nightmares, mostly dreams if I’m being honest,” you sighed out, unable to catch yourself as she handed you your drink. You cursed yourself as you looked up to see the grin on her face.

“Y/N Y/L/N, are you telling me that you’ve been running on minimum hours of sleep because you’ve been getting some action?” Whenever Emily full-named you, you felt like a little kid being pulled into a principal's office. You gulped and sent her a panicked look, unable to deny but not wanting to say another word. From the corner of your eye, you tried to catch Reid’s reaction to all of this. He was nursing his drink on the sidelines, not saying anything, but a small twitch in the corner of his mouth filled in the gaps for him.

“Oh, that’s my girl.” Emily whistled at you from the other side of the table, and for the next half hour you did your best to melt into the table and not make eye-contact with Reid.

Eventually, Morgan made his way to the bar to start flirting with some girls, and JJ, Emily and Prentiss made their way to the dancefloor, leaving you and Reid alone at the table. They’d tried to convince you to get up with them, but you’d convinced them to leave you behind, with promises to join them shortly.

“So, you’re a truthful drunk, then?” Reid asked. He’d moved closer to you when Morgan had exited the booth, but not close enough to draw anyone's attention. Now with the girls gone too, he took his chances and pushed up against your side, your thighs touching, and his arm resting on the back of the booth.

“Don’t start, I barely survived that with my life, Reid, now they think I’m seeing someone,” you groaned into your hands.

“You are seeing someone. Granted it’s just me, and its not what they think…” he trailed off, still staring at you with that smile on his lips, but you barely noticed burying your head further into your hands. It was almost infuriating that he didn’t know that he’d never be ‘just’ anything to you.

“Not helping, Reid.” He chuckled and took another swig of his drink. Obviously the alcohol was starting to have some effect on him, because when he returned his glass to his coaster, the hand that was holding it fell directly onto your thigh. With his other arm practically wrapped around your shoulders, and this movement now, you could only imagine that the two of you looked like a couple having an intimate discussion to anyone walking past.

“What are you doing, Spencer?” You panic a bit, worrying that any second a coworker of yours would catch sight of the two of you and realise just who you’d been dreaming about these past few days. But your back was to the booth and it wasn’t in their line of sight at all.

“Oh, it’s Spencer again, is it? Thought you liked calling me sir,” he whispered in your ear and the feeling of his hot breath on your neck was enough to disable the brain cells that remained.

“Spencer!” You hissed under your breath at him, the heat rising in your cheeks. “Can we not do this here?” You asked, exasperated.

“Would you prefer to do this at my apartment, or yours instead? Or your car is outside, if you just want to get straight to it.” You weren’t used to this from him. Sure he was dominant when you were in the middle of the act, but before and after he was almost ten times more awkward than usual. But with a bit of liquid courage, he’d had you trapped in a corner, unable to escape, and not caring who saw you.

“Spencer, they’re going to see us. That was the rule, they can’t see us.” You whispered in a low voice, not wanting to take it any higher, despite the pounding music in the bar.

“And they won’t but you need to answer me baby, my place, your place or your car?” Your heart-race picked up as you saw the serious expression on his face. He needed this. Needed you so badly, that he couldn’t even wait for a natural exit, needing to carry you off to the nearest convenient location and have his way with you. You realised in that moment that you would drop anything just to give him what he needed.

“Car.” You said, letting go of your worries, and just letting him take care of the situation.

“Perfect, princess. Now, you’re going to lean on my arm and act like you have a headache while I go and make our excuses to the others, okay? Do not say a word, and maybe I’ll give you a nice reward, how does that sound?” You nodded vigorously at his instructions, suddenly very excited for whatever he had in store for you.

You stumbled your way to the dancefloor, tracking down Garcia and the others as Spencer informed them of your condition. The three of them tried to ask you questions, but you were sure that Spencer was serious about that reward, so you kept your mouth shut, leaning against Reid innocently and just nodding your head at the appropriate times. Morgan was still chatting at the bar, and Reid gave him a nod on the way out, knowing that he’d soon be filled in as well, and you were suddenly out the door.

“Good job, princess, you did so good for me in there.” He cooed into your ear as he guided you back to your own car. Unlocking the doors, he threw your bag into the front seats and immediately climbed into the back, pulling you along with him by your hand.

He pulled you over him, making you straddle him. You knew he wasn’t going to take his time with you, not here, but that didn’t matter. You needed it just as much as he did. You wondered for a second if his reward was going to finally be him pressing his lips to yours. You’d changed into a short skirt before joining your friends at a bar, that material so tight over your ass and thighs that in your new position, he didn’t even have to move it out of the way to gain access to you, having already ridden up all the way to your stomach.

“So beautiful baby. If you need to stop for whatever reason, you need to tap my shoulder here two times, okay?” You were confused about the introduction of a new safety gesture, but when he wrapped one of his hands around your neck and squeezed just as he starting rubbing your soaking cunt you suddenly realised it was necessary.

The strong grip on your throat was limiting your breath, the lack of oxygen you were getting intensifying every stroke he made. It was only a few minutes before he was pushing a finger into you, and beginning to pump it in and out quickly. You grabbed at the arm attached to your throat, using it for balance as you used your remaining energy to grind down desperately into his hand. He stilled his movements then, letting you use his hand to get off, humping yourself into him like a bitch in heat.

“You said you liked this, but if I’d have known you meant this much, I’d have done this much sooner.” He tightened his grip around your throat a little bit, still doing his best not to hurt you. You were seeing stars now, the car windows were fogged up from your desperate pants, and you were so close to just finishing right there on his hand.

You felt your vision go black as you finally tipped over the edge, tapping his shoulder quickly as you felt your orgasm rip through you. He instantly let go of you and caught you in his arms, wrapping them around you, and instantly doing everything to make sure you were okay.

“What’s wrong, are you okay? Did I squeeze too hard?” There was a panic in his tone, but you let your breathing even out before you replied, content with the feeling of him stroking your hair as your head rested against his chest.

“It’s okay, Spencer, it was just getting a little bit too intense for me, is all…” you let out a small yawn then and nuzzled into him in the backseat, your eyes drooping closed.

“Princess, I’m going to get you home now, okay? No more tonight.” He whispered sweetly into your hair, as you fell asleep in his arms once again. The last thing you felt before you fell under was his lips press a sweet kiss to the top of your head.

Saturday

When you woke up again, you knew you were in his arms, and your heart practically sang at the contact. Your eyes opened and there he was, next to you in your bed, face inches from yours, arms wrapped tightly around you and legs tangled in yours.

You stared at him for a few moments, not wanting to wake him and shatter the peace with awkward exits, not wanting to distance yourself from him for even a second. Your eyes drank all of him in. His messy hair, his long, delicate eyelashes, his lips. You found yourself staring at them for more than a few moments.

What would they feel like pressed into yours? You tried to bury the thought, but you just couldn’t. He was asleep, and you’d not talked about kissing when you’d discussed things you wouldn’t do. It was human nature to be curious, but the need to know him, to experience him and everything he had was consuming you from the inside, and you couldn’t help yourself.

Just as you were about to let your impulses control your movements and press a kiss to his lips, you felt him stir next to you, instantly snapping your eyes shut and laying as still as possible as he roused himself from sleep.

You felt him shift, but you could hear nothing over the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Did he know you were awake? Was he going to leave without waking you? Was he going to try to wake you up?

You felt his fingers against your cheek now, tracing a faint line down your face, and then he did something unexpected, and he cupped your face in his hand, and you felt him growing closer and closer until you felt the softest of touches against your lips and realised that he was finally kissing you.

Completely forgetting you were supposed to be asleep, you responded to his kiss, angling your head to better match his and pushing your lips back into his as he made to depart, encouraging him to keep going. He did, with each connection of your lips growing more and more passionate and loving, and like if he was given the chance he’d never stop holding you there in that moment. He only pulled away when he ran out of breath, and you were thankful that he did, as when you opened your eyes, the sight of him robbed you of yours too.

“Good morning, princess.” He whispered, tenderly, letting his forehead come to rest on yours, pressing another chaste kiss to your nose as he did so, and drawing out a giggle from you.

“Good morning, Spencer.” He drops another kiss to your lips then, almost as if now that he’s started he can’t stop.

“Spencer, please, why are you so touchy this morning?” you giggle up at him between kisses.

“I don’t know, you just looked so beautiful, is that a crime?” He smiles at you agan, continuing his kisses down your neck.

“We’ve never kissed before,” you vocalise your fear, and he stopped his movements before you could rush to backtrack.

“We haven’t? Oh god, we haven’t,” his eyes go wide as he looks down at you, his expression mirroring yours. “Shit, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just assumed after everything these past two weeks that we’d kissed at some point.”

“No, no, it’s okay, don’t apologise,” you try to speak, but he keeps going, rushing to get the words out all at once.

“I think I was misremembering kissing you, maybe I thought my dreams were real or something, so if I overstepped a boundary or something about this makes you uncomfortable, say the word and I’ll never do it again.” There was a ringing in your ears as you took in his words.

“You dreamed about kissing me?” you asked in a whisper, almost scared to hear the answer. He struggled to find the right words to say for a moment, but then he nodded.

“I thought you’d have guessed by now from my enthusiasm about all of this,” he replied, still holding you, his hands hot on your waist.

“Wait, Spencer, for how long?”

“Promise you won’t be freaked out?” He groaned, looking like he’d rather bury his face in your pillows than admit what he was about tp.

“I promise, now spill.”

“Since you joined the team. Like since the exact second. I saw you when you walked in and it was like a bomb went off in my head or something, and I had to avoid you for most of that first day so you didn’t notice I was being a creep and just imagining what it would feel like to kiss you.” The grin on your face grew with each of his words, hope sprouting there and taking root.

“God, Spencer, I thought you were uncomfortable around me. I thought you hated me a little because I threw off the group dynamic!” you laughed at your own stupidity now, raking a hand through your hair as his behaviour became more understandable, now.

“No, god no. It does take me a little bit of time to warm up to change, I’ll admit, but by the end of the first week, the change I was imagining what our kids would look like.” You froze with his words, and the roots in your heart grew deeper, twining around themselves and holding you with a fervid strength.

“Kids?” was the only word you managed to gasp out, as Spencer realised what he’d said.

“Fuck… That is, I didn’t mean to… It was just a stupid thought, if you don’t feel the same way, it’s totally fine.”

“Feel what way, Spencer?” you had to hear it from his lips, had to hear the words you so desperately needed.

“Y/N, you have to know by now that I’m obsessed with you. I can’t get enough of you, I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy for the last two weeks. I’m completely devoted to you, Y/N. I love you.” The flower in your chest bloomed, and the tears from your eyes spilled to water it.

“Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he kissed the tears away from your cheeks, happy to continue showing you his adoration from earlier, but you pulled him away, needing to look him in the eye when you said it.

“Spencer, I love you, too. Maybe I didn’t realise as soon as you did, but somewhere in my subconscious I was so aware of you, I wanted your approval so badly, wanted you to smile and laugh with me the way you were with the rest of the team. I’ve spent this last week with the words stuck in my throat because I thought you couldn’t possibly feel the same, because Spencer you deserve all the love in the world.” Your tears were free flowing now, with your confession, and you could see some moisture forming in his as well.

The two of you didn’t need to say anything more after that, your lips doing all the communicating for you.

These kisses were different, so much deeper, more romantic, more needy. He moved his leg over you and pressed some of his weight down into you, wrapping you in his warmth. He pulled away from your lips to continue further down your neck. Each time he pulled away, he whispered a confession into your skin.

“Spencer, I want to feel you inside of me, please.” You moaned into his touch, and he quickly agreed. Now that you two knew you had each other, you wanted to waste no time. He was hard already, having woken up with the perfect reason to hold you. He carefully lifted your legs up and apart, giving himself all the space he needed to make love to you.

“God, you’re so perfect for me,” he said, pausing to spit down on your pussy, spreading the wetness with his heavy cock. He sat there rubbing himself against you for a few minutes, his lips having reconnected with yours, swallowing every moan you made, along with any he couldn’t control from himself.

The two of you were so lost in each other, in the moment, that it felt like it lasted forever. With one last rub to your sensitive areas, he lined himself up with your hole, and slowly lowered himself in. Encouraging you to hold your knees up into a tighter position, he grabbed your hips and began setting a relentless pace. It wasn’t the slow sensual fuck from your motel room, or even the hard and fast mess of your first time in the file room, but somewhere in the middle. You could feel the passion and the love he held for you in his kisses, and the lust you had cultivated over the weeks in each thrust, and it was driving you absolutely crazy.

“Yes, Spencer just like that, fuck,” you moaned out when he finally moved away from your lips, pressing his mouth into your neck again and biting down. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but just hard enough that the pain heightened your pleasure.

With each thrust, your arms became weaker and weaker, your legs shaking furiously as he gave you all of him.

“Come on baby, just a few more, you can hold out for a few more,” he whispered in your ear, licking and sucking at the place he’d left his bite mark.

“I don’t think I can, I don’t think I can for musch longer, Spencer, please,” you whimpered your arms falling away from your legs. He replaced yours with his, pushing your body further into the bed, doing all the work and letting you just experience it.

“Okay, baby, you did great, you think you can come on my cock now, baby?” He asked and you immediately nodded, feeling the tell-tale bubbling of your orgasm beginning to rush through you. Your whole body stiffened as you screamed, his pace unrelenting as he rode you through the orgasm. He moved one hand down to your clit, rubbing you through it and keeping you sensitive, and even though you’d just had one of the most powerful orgasms of your life, you knew he meant to make you do it again.

“That’s my girl, taking me so well. I love you, sweetie, you’re doing so perfect for me,” you gasped and moaned into his ear, unable to think for the twitching in your cunt, driven slowly insane by the sensitivity.

“I’m almost there, baby, gonna fill your cunt with my seed.” He grunted in your ear, grabbing either side of your neck in his hands, resting his forehead against yours and thrusting harder and harder into you. You felt the second wave start to hit then, more drawn out than the first as he did his best to breed you, to plant himself firmly inside of you. He lasted only a few more thrusts before his hips stilled, bottomed out inside of you, and you felt rope after rope of his cum spurt into you.

“Fuck, princess, I love you.” He pressed another quick kiss y=to your lips, but you were whimpering from the continued contact now, and he quickly pulled out. He stopped to watch his cum drip out of you, knowing that he’d fully claimed you now, that you were his forever, and, resisting the urge to push into you again, left to grab something to clean you up with.

You laid there, gently coaxing your legs back into a comfortable position until he came back. He cleaned you up, bundled you up in some fresh pajamas, and returned you to the bed, wrapping you up in his arms once again, almost as if nothing had happened.

“It’s saturday, so we can just relax for the rest of the day, okay, princess?” You hid your face in his chest and nodded your approval, gently shutting out the rest of the world. It was you and him now, everyday of the week it was you and him.

Sunday

After two weeks of constant attention, you had to set a boundary with your new boyfriend very quickly, and you chose breakfast on the sunday morning to do it.

“Spencer, you know I love you, right?” you opened the conversation, filling up his coffee mug as he set the small table in the corner of your kitchen.

“Yes, you said it 246 times yesterday. I said it 274 times, but whose keeping count, right?” You laughed at him, and pulled him into a hug quickly, pressing a chaste kiss onto his lips.

“I love you, but we need to talk again.” You smiled up at him, trying your best to keep your poker face as you threatened to crack seeing his eyebrows knit together.

“Did I do something wrong?” he quickly asked, but you stroked his hair reassuringly, signaling for him to just listen to you.

“I really like my job, you know. I like working out in the field.” You smiled up at him, watching his confusion deepen.

“But if you keep fucking me like I’m a little whore everyday of the week, it’s only going to be a matter of time until I can’t walk, you know?”

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