#doing what i did when i sat down at my computer in a thing with a hood

[zepskies]

Ooooh I LOVE the movie RED!!! ❤️ Karl Urban's fight with Bruce Willis is so freakin' iconic. 🤩 I'm already in, babes. Let's dive in.~

Ahh the "hear me out" thing is so relatable lmao. But Marlin?! Really?! 🤣🤣

Four times you’d fallen asleep on your computer and had the imprint of the keyboard on your cheek, three times you’d had a mental breakdown and decided to change your major promising yourself that you were sure you could make it doing freelance whatever the fuck sounded good at that moment, and you couldn’t count the number of times that you’d gone to the library to study only to get distracted by whatever else was better than studying for a physics test.

Oh God, you're giving me Vietnam War-level flashbacks to undergrad when I was stuck until 12 am at the library working on essays and shiz. 🫠

“And I raise you Kerchak from Tarzan!” “The daddy gorilla?” Liza asks, leaning into her fiance, Matt, where he lounges back against the faded maroon leather beside her. 

GIRL PLSSS. 💀💀💀 Not "daddy gorilla." 🤣

The stranger sitting at the bar is everything she suggested and more. He’s the kind of handsome that didn’t exist outside of the stack of communal romance novels that sat on the bookshelf in your living room and served as the perfect reminder of how single you were. 

Okay, lmfao. I'ma need you to stop calling me out like this. 😂😂

But I so love the description of Russell -- he's a man in a sea of man-boys our age, and there's a distinct difference. 😏

“Hi.” You smile shyly at the man when you meet his gaze. “Hi.” He rumbles with an easy smile while the green of his eyes flashes in the neon sign hanging behind the bar. His voice catches you off guard. You weren't expecting it to be so smooth, silk over your skin, but also like the rough drag of the ocean against sand as it pulls it out to sea. “Hi.” You say again as all other thoughts evaporate from you mind and you fight the urge to facepalm. 

LMFAO. Reading this snippet in context is of course even better. I'm dying but also she would so be me in this situation. 😝

“Rain.” Despite the last few seconds of you feeling so awkward it made you want to sink into the floor like quicksand and the fact that your throat is still burning from when the beer went down the wrong pipe, your mouth quirks up in a smile. “The horse from Spirit?”

OMG YESSSSS. Lmfao Rain was beautiful! And I love that you referenced one of my favorite movies. 😆😆 Totally agree that Nala had bedroom eyes. And I raise you Robin Hood from the Disney movie! They did NOT have to draw him that sexy.

“Shut up.” You laugh and raise your hand to hit him on the shoulder, but he catches it with his. The contact of the rough palm of his hand in yours makes electricity zing through your body, bringing a wave of heat coursing behind it.  “That’s not very nice. Keep trying to hit me like that and I might have to take you to court, Sweetheart.” He winks.

😐😧🤭

Miss ma'am!! Don't make me bring out the Out of Order gif again! I had to fan myself when he literally caught her hand. Dear Lord. 🫠

Also, the way I was so shocked and literally laughed out loud at the way she headbutted him. 🤣 Honestly that would probably be me trying to flirt. A+ casting 😂👌🏽

But again, that spice and the way he kissed her melted me like the Wicked Witch of the West. ❤️‍🔥

“Seriously babe.” Kay begins to back away. “Be safe. Because the last thing you want to pass right now is a pregnancy test.” 

lmaooo sage advice! 😂

How could I have been so stupid? He’s going to kill me here and I’ll never know what that physics test did to my GPA.  You frown slightly at that thought. It really is weird what goes through your head when you think you’re going to die.  “Please, let me explain.” He says again, eyes wide and filled with an emotion that looks surprisingly like regret.

LOL I love her inner monologue. She's so adorkable, but I'm already getting the RED vibes omggg. 🙏🏽

His body lays over yours, curving protectively around you, and his arm is behind you head so when you hit the ground, your head doesn’t.

It's the little things I love loll. 🤌🏽

“Calm down Derek Jeter! I’m not going to murder you, please stop saying that.” “Why?” He frowns and shrugs his shoulders. “Because it’s hurting my feelings a little bit.” 

Not me feeling sorry for him right now when she's well within her right to try and beat him with a pink baseball bat. 🤣🤣🤣

I was smiling so hard while reading the rest of this. I was actually so disappointed to get to the end! This was one helluva meet cute, hun. 💜

The thing about your one-shots is that they feel like the start of a series--of an amazing adventure that's about to start. I know you have probably a million WIPs at this point lol, but this does feel like a RED kind of movie and I would love to see more of these two if you ever feel so inspired. ✨

I Can Explain!

Pairing: Russell Shaw x f!reader, Reader POV

Prompt: "How Do You Know Where I Live?"

Requested by: @vixaaa

Summary:  When you meet a gorgeous green-eyed stranger at a bar and agree to go home with him, everything goes off the rails and you're strapped in for the ride.

Tropes: Awkward Rom-Com? Forced Proximity? Protective Russell.

Word Count: 10.6 K (But You'll Laugh The Whole Time)

Warnings: An Unhinged Game of "Hear Me Out," References to Sex, Sexual innuendo, Little bit of self-deprecating thought (reader), Reader is kinda awkward and clumsy, Gunfire, Weapons, Talk of Murder, Shooting?, Brief Description of Torture, Brief Description of Murder, Terror, Fear, Cursing, Kissing, I think that's everything? I promise this one is a rom-com despite all the warnings. 😅

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

A/N: Hey guys! This is another wonderful prompt request that I got for my prompt celebration from the enchanting @vixaaa! This one is based a little bit on the movies "Knight and Day" and "RED." If you've never seen either of those, go and watch them right now. They are some of my favorites!

P.S: Yes, this is the one I've been writing that has just been making me wheeze/cackle laugh the whole time I wrote it...

“Alright, hear me out… Gil, the angelfish from Finding Nemo. There is no way in hell he was made for kids.” Your friend Liza says wobbling slightly on the plush leather bench seat of the booth before taking a shot of vodka. Her peacock blue No. 2 hair shimmers like a beacon in the dimly lit bar. 

“That’s low hanging fruit.” Kay snorts from your left while leaning heavily into your shoulder, the smell of her vanilla perfume wafting up with the movement. “That scar? The tragic backstory? And voiced by Wilem Defoe? Sign me up.”

You giggle into the shot glass clasped in your hand before you knock it back, face scrunching at the taste and pleasant burn.

The “Hear Me Out” drinking game your two best friends proposed to clear your head from the nuclear level bombing of an exam you just took in your Physics One class, had been successful so far. You couldn’t remember any of the questions from the test that made you scream obscenities into the strawberry shaped pillows on the couch in your living room earlier. Exactly where the two of them had found you when they got back to your shared apartment at the end of the day.

The live music in the crowded bar thrummed through your veins and the shots were giving you just the right amount of buzz to feel more carefree than you had in the past week. The week that you’d spent approximately one million hours studying for the test and trying to memorize all the formulas that looked exactly the same. 

Four times you’d fallen asleep on your computer and had the imprint of the keyboard on your cheek, three times you’d had a mental breakdown and decided to change your major promising yourself that you were sure you could make it doing freelance whatever the fuck sounded good at that moment, and you couldn’t count the number of times that you’d gone to the library to study only to get distracted by whatever else was better than studying for a physics test.

Spoiler alert, there are a lot of things that are.

But you knew you were screwed the second you saw the first question and the rest of them had only been the final nails in the coffin that was the dream of getting an “A” in the class before the semester was over. 

The glimmering sheen of hope at the end of the semester you once had, was ebbing to a dim lantern being swung by a lighthouse keeper in a hurricane, hence the large tray of vodka sitting prettily on the water ringed table in front of you.

You were sure to regret every single shot, but your next exam was two days away and you didn’t want to think about it yet, not when the shadow of the last was poking you in the back with a pencil like someone looking for your final piece of gum.

For a Tuesday night, Duke’s, the bar the three of you frequented so often that the rotating circle of bartenders knew you all by name, was crowded.

There was the familiar glow of the neon signs posted on every wall, a new band performing a set on the small stage in the corner, a collection of screaming girls in the front row of the crowd snapping photos and drooling over the base player, a group of frat guys shouting obscenities at a tv blasting a football game, and a few patrons trying to unwind from a long day while nursing multi colored drinks and sitting sporadically around the crowded bar while the bartender of the hour leaned against the counter and tried to hear orders people shouted over the din. 

You would have been more than happy to spend the evening on the couch eating a greasy pizza and drinking margaritas back at the apartment, but Kay and Liza refused to let you rot on the couch. 

The three of you had been inseparable since freshman year when you’d been assigned as roommates together. Liza was an art major hoping to illustrate book covers one day, Kay was a hardworking pre-med student, and you were… undecided. Physics 1 had been the idea of your advisor, who after a year of trying to get you to declare a major was close to throwing in the towel, you believed that he was using Physics 1 as a form of payback for driving him almost to the point of early retirement. 

“Okay, okay I see you.” Kay giggles, before grabbing a fresh shot. Her long black hair is pulled back from her face with a claw clip, but a few pieces bob around her head with the movement of her head to the music. “And I raise you Kerchak from Tarzan!”

“The daddy gorilla?” Liza asks, leaning into her fiance, Matt, where he lounges back against the faded maroon leather beside her. 

There was a half full glass of beer sitting in front of him, one he’d ordered when he found out what everyone else at your table was drinking. But he’d been a good sport so far despite all of his suggestions to the game being so obvious there was no reason for him to defend his choice and the rest of you mocking him endlessly for it. 

“Sweetie, he could be my daddy any day of the week.” Kay winks and throws back her shot. 

“You’re disgusting.” Liza rolls her eyes, refusing to take a shot to agree with Kay. 

“Hey! What happened to ‘we listen and we don’t judge?’” You interrupt, putting your arm around Kay who holds up a middle finger in answer to Liza’s taunt.

“Where was that when I said Jessica Rabbit two turns ago?” Matt grouses from his side of the table, crossing his large arms over his chest. His blond hair had tumbled out of the bun at the back of his neck to cover the grass stain on the collar of his jersey. He’d come straight from practice when Liza called. 

And then Kay and you had to suffer through the long make out session the two of them had when they reunited as if they’d been separated by war for fifty years and not two hours. They were recently engaged and you loved Matt, which is why you’d let them make out for exactly thirty seconds before Kay and you started making exaggerated gagging noises while they kissed. 

Kay’s boyfriend hadn’t been able to get out of work, but Kay was going to walk to the coffee shop inside the library to pick him up when the tray of shots in the center of the table sat empty. Usually you’d worry about that sort of thing, your friend walking alone on campus at night, but because Kay had the highest tolerance out of all of you, Matt included, and a total badass who welcomed the challenge of anyone who tried to test her, you were willing to let it slide. 

That and the three of you tracked each other’s location with your phones.

“Because Jessica Rabbit isn’t a hear me out! Everyone knows that she’s super sexy!” You argue. “She doesn’t fit the criteria of this game!”

“She’s right babe.” Liza says, squeezing his arm with a sympathetic smile. “But it’s okay. I love that you’re a basic bitch.”

“But she’s animated!” Matt exclaims, obviously confused.

“So? Flynn Ryder is animated and he’s every woman’s dream.” You shrug, picking up a glass to take your turn.

You begin to shuffle through the mental file folder you have on characters who possessed “the energy” that made them so attractive. Truthfully, Kay and Liza had already said most of the ones you were thinking.

“You want to talk about every woman’s dream?” Kay smirks, her eyes flick over to the bar. “Check out green eyes over there. Holy shit, I’d let him rock me like a hurricane all day and all night!” 

“I’ll be sure to tell Sean, your boyfriend of three years-” You begin to say, but Kay pinches your cheeks between her fingers and turns your head so you can see who she’s talking about. 

Oh.

The stranger sitting at the bar is everything she suggested and more. He’s the kind of handsome that didn’t exist outside of the stack of communal romance novels that sat on the bookshelf in your living room and served as the perfect reminder of how single you were. 

The man is taller and broader than any of the so-called boys you went to class with each day, his tight fitting dark t-shirt pulling up over muscular arms that rippled with taunt muscles and were decorated with smoky tattoos curling beneath the ink colored sleeves. His chocolate colored hair is long and pushed back over his head, but a few strands hang forward to frame a well defined jaw covered in a thick dusting of facial hair.

Your throat suddenly gets very tight. 

The man’s gaze is focused on you, the green of his eyes brilliant, crinkled just around the edges with his smile. He winks and your entire face takes on the identity of a strawberry with your flush.

“Holy shit!” Kay nudges you. “You have to go over there.”

“What?” You squeak. “Are you insane? That guy is-”

“The kind of man who would make you forget all about that physics test?” Liza raises an eyebrow.

“The kind of man who would break the laws of physics with you all night long?” Kay adds. “Babe, come on, it's been months for you. Why don’t you go over there and say hi?”

“No way.” You shake your head vehemently, hyperventilating a little bit at the thought of going up to a complete stranger. 

You were not the confident girl in the group that did that. Kay was. It was exactly how she had met her boyfriend Sean three years ago, by using a cheesy pick up line that made him snort so hard he had beer coming out of his nose. Liza wasn’t much better. She’d met Matt in this very bar when her heel broke and she stumbled into where he was sitting with his friends at the bar. 

And the truth was it had been a few months since the last relationship (if you could call it that) fizzled out… and with both of your friends in relationships you often were the awkward fifth wheel. It wasn’t that you didn’t like your friends' boyfriends, Matt and Sean were great and they always did their best to make you feel comfortable whenever you were out with everyone, but you were kinda tired of being the spare tire.

“I don’t think we should be encouraging her to go off somewhere with a random man from a bar that she just met.” Matt says with a frown. 

Matt often held the braincell in your friend group and was the one who was more focused on making sure that everyone was safe. He was the one who followed up with a text whenever someone left to go home, the one who made sure that everyone stayed together when you were out late, and was usually the designated driver. 

“You’re such a hypocrite.” Liza boops Matt on the nose. “You were a random man that I’d never met before. And if I’m not mistaken we met in this very bar.”

“That’s different.” Matt sighs, but he leans towards Liza, the tension dissipating from his shoulders as he looks at her and his frown slips into a smile. 

They were one of those couples that no one ever thought would work. Liza was the carefree art major with no plan in the world and Matt was the All American, blue-eyed, blond haired football player that everyone said was “going to do great things” when in reality all Matt wanted to be was Liza’s husband. He didn’t care about anything else, but making her happy. Hence the giant engagement ring on her finger, the same one that he’d let her design because he knew that was important to her. 

They were everything you wanted in your own relationship. A beautiful merging of crazy (from you) with someone stable and structured, preferably someone with a strong jaw, brilliant green eyes and-

Great, he’s already invaded my subconscious. 

You glance up again to see if the stranger is still looking. He is, but this time his smile is just a little wider, and you watch his eyes drag down the length of your body for a moment appreciatively before flicking back up to yours and catches you doing the same thing. 

You weren’t wearing anything revealing, in fact, you hadn’t bothered dressing up to go out because you didn’t feel like it. You were still wearing the blank sweatpants and oversized sweatshirt combo that you’d worn to your exam. 

When you caught him looking at you, it made you regret you hadn’t worn something more eye-catching.

“Come on, that guy is checking you out! Go over there.” Kay nudges you, jostling the forgotten tequila shot in your hand. 

“He looks like trouble.” Matt says half-heartedly, but he’s too busy staring into Liza’s eyes to really care. Her hands are entwined at the back of his head pulling his forehead down to hers.

When it got to that point of the night, it usually meant that the two of them were about fifteen seconds from calling it an early night and going back to Matt’s apartment. Technically Kay would probably end up there as well because Sean was now Matt’s roommate and that meant you’d have the apartment to yourself…

“How can you tell? Are you looking at his reflection in Liza’s eyes?” Kay takes a shot from the collection of the remaining few in front of her.

“We all know that if Sean was here, you’d already be practicing your scuba breathing.” Liza gently brushes back the few strands of blond hair that hang forward into Matt’s face which only makes him sigh softly and look at her like she’s the last woman on earth. 

You try not to be jealous. 

Kay only rolls her eyes. “Alright, I’m taking initiative.”

“What does that mean?” You begin to ask, but Kay shoves you out of the booth and towards the handsome stranger who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since your eyes met moments ago. 

“Kay. What the hell?” You turn back to look at her, but she’s already holding up your forgotten shot. 

“Take this and go over there.”

“But-”

“The only butt you should be thinking about is his, in those deliciously tight jeans. You will thank me in the morning.” She refuses to budge. “And then come home and tell me everything the two of you did, because Sean’s about to go visit his family for a week and I will need something to fantasize about.”

You wrinkle your nose in disgust, but then look to Liza hoping for help. Unfortunately she’s too busy counting Matt’s eyelashes to defend you. You look back at Kay who is still holding up the shot, gaze unwavering. 

I can’t believe I’m about to do this. 

You think to yourself with a sigh, before taking the shot, hoping that it will give you some of the confidence you need to talk to the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life. 

I can do this, I can do this-

The internal monologue repeats itself over and over again with each step as you weave your way through the crowd to make it where the man is sitting, dropping your gaze to the people around you as if you’re more focused on them.

You weren’t, but staring at him while you were walking towards him seemed too predatory, and you could already feel how warm your cheeks were from your flush.

You grip the firm edge of the bar when you make it to him, using it to ground yourself there in the moment before you find the strength to meet his gaze.

There’s a faded green jacket hung over the high backed barstool behind him that you hadn’t noticed before.

Your eyes trace over his body, just a quick glance, but snags on his arms for just a second too long to be casual. They were even more glorious in person, tan and flecked with cinnamon colored freckles hidden beneath twisting tattoos that disappeared into his dark shirt sleeves.

“Hi.” You smile shyly at the man when you meet his gaze.

“Hi.” He rumbles with an easy smile while the green of his eyes flashes in the neon sign hanging behind the bar.

His voice catches you off guard. You weren't expecting it to be so smooth, silk over your skin, but also like the rough drag of the ocean against sand as it pulls it out to sea.

“Hi.” You say again as all other thoughts evaporate from you mind and you fight the urge to facepalm. 

What the hell am I doing over here? I might as well do the walk of shame back to my own table. 

Russell raises an eyebrow, his smile widening. “Hi.” He echoes.

You open your mouth-

“Before you say hi back sweetheart, why don’t you tell me what you’re drinking instead?” He winks making your cheeks warm with their flush.

Honestly, you were expecting him to be turned off by your somewhat awkward introduction, but if you bothered him, he doesn’t show it. He leans towards you curiously, eyes drinking you in. 

You clear your throat while your mind scrambles to come up with something appropriate or sexy to say other than ‘wow you’re pretty.’ You settle on. “Whatever you’re drinking.” 

Smooth real smooth. 

You glance back in the direction of where your friends are sitting as the man’s gaze turns to the bartender so he can order you a drink. Kay makes an obscene gesture with her hand that makes Matt kick her under the table, and Liza gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

Kill me now. 

You turn back to the man lounging against the bar, unaware that he’s watching you again. 

“You seemed like you were having some fun over there. What were you talking about?” He nods his head in the direction of your friends, the motion causing more of his dark hair to fall into his eyes and you fight the urge to push it back from his face and find out if it was as soft as it looked.

“Oh um.” Your mouth goes dry. The last thing you wanted to say to the gorgeous man was that your friends and you were discussing what animated movie characters turned you on. So you blurt out. “The First Law of Thermodynamics.”

It had clawed its way from the dark recesses of your mind where the rest of the test answers had been hiding from you when you tried to summon them earlier. 

“What?” The man laughs while you feel your face begin to blaze. 

“The First Law of Thermodynamics?” You clear your throat. “The theory that energy cannot be created or destroyed."

Where was that when I needed it for the test?

“Huh.” He smirks and takes a long sip from the beer in his hand. “Didn’t think Tarzan had anything to do with that.”

Oh sweet baby potatoes he heard the daddy conversation. Why couldn’t he have heard the Jessica Rabbit conversation instead?

“Ah.” You laugh awkwardly, realizing exactly what he overheard. 

The bartender puts down a bottle of beer in front of you and whirls away to another patron sitting on the opposite side of the bar. The band begins to play a new song, this one louder with more drums than the last one, causing the man to lean closer to you so you can hear him. 

“So.” The smell of the man’s cologne wafts over you. He smells like pine, mint, whiskey, and there’s an odd smell you can’t place, something that smells almost a little bit like smoke.

You ascribe it to cigarettes, but you don’t realize how wrong you are. 

There’s something about him, more than just how attractive he is or how good he smells that draws you in. Maybe you’d just been burned by far too many boys and were blinded by the man sitting in front of you, but he had a roughness and self-sufficient air that you found refreshing. 

He was assertive, sexy, with smoldering green eyes that somehow seemed soft and hard at the same time and filled you with an unholy amount of desire. 

“So?” You parrot, bringing the beer up to your lips, hoping that a sip will take the edge off. 

“Don’t you want to hear mine?” His voice is low and sultry, breath warming the air between the two of your faces. 

You sputter out a cough, choking on the sip you took in surprise, and his eyes widen in concern.The man brings his hand down against your back with a hearty smack to clear out your lungs.

“Are you okay?” 

“Never better.” You choke out, voice a little wheezy. “Wrong pipe.”

This is quickly becoming the most embarrassing moment of my life. 

“Are you sure?” The stranger’s eyes trace over you as if he fears you’ll start asphyxiating at any moment.

“Mhmm.” You clear your throat again. “What were you saying?”

“I asked if you wanted to hear mine.”

You suddenly forget how to breathe, the only thing grounding you to this moment is the hand you placed on the cherry wood of the bar. “Sure.”

“Rain.”

Despite the last few seconds of you feeling so awkward it made you want to sink into the floor like quicksand and the fact that your throat is still burning from when the beer went down the wrong pipe, your mouth quirks up in a smile. “The horse from Spirit?”

“Mhmm.” He smiles a little wider. “My little sister used to watch that movie non-stop, and there was always something about that horse.”

“Huh.” You muse taking another sip of the beer, this time successfully not choking on it. “I didn’t peg you for a horse guy. You seem more like a Nala person.”

“Oh that lion did it for me too.” The man leans closer to you and you can feel your knees getting weak. “She definitely had bedroom eyes.”

“She did!” You laugh at him. “The animators knew what they were doing.”

It was getting easier to talk to him now and you could feel your nerves slowly going out to sea. There’s a comfortable silence that fills the air between the two of you.

“Why did you say the First Law of Thermodynamics earlier?” He asks before taking a sip from his beer. The condensation trickles down the side of the glass to pool against the wood of the bar.

“Because I didn’t want to admit what we were talking about.” You answer honestly. “And I guess it’s still a little fresh in my mind-”

“Why?”

“I had a physics test today. Completely bombed it. That’s why my friends brought me out tonight, they were trying to make me forget it.” You wave a hand dismissively, but it was the first time you’d thought about the test in the past hour and it still stung a little bit. 

You were hoping that by this point of the night it wouldn’t have mattered anymore, but it did. Not to mention you didn’t exactly want to be talking about your most recent failure with a man who looked anything like he did. 

But something about him made you feel comfortable talking to him about things that were not on the pre-approved list of subjects you created when you spoke to people you were attracted to. He didn’t seem to just be some hot stranger in a bar, he seemed like he actually cared, and that he was invested in what you were going to say. 

It made him even more attractive. You weren't used to boys wanting to actually listen to anything you had to say.

“I’m sorry.” His face pulls down into a sympathetic frown. 

“Me too.” You sigh. 

“Maybe you didn’t do as bad as you think you did.”

“Oh I did. When I turned in the test, the professor made a face.” Your thumb rubs against the glass of the cold bottle clutched in your hand. “I studied all week for it and it kinda feels like I wasted all that time.”

The man studies you for a moment. “I think that if you learn something from it, then it’s not a waste. There are no accidents.“

“Are you purposely quoting Master Oogway to make me feel better or is that just a coincidence?” 

“He’s a smart turtle.” He laughs pleased with himself that he made you smile. “But you remembered the First Law of Thermodynamics. And I thought it was a nice pick up line. Might use that sometime.” 

“Shut up.” You laugh and raise your hand to hit him on the shoulder, but he catches it with his.

The contact of the rough palm of his hand in yours makes electricity zing through your body, bringing a wave of heat coursing behind it. 

“That’s not very nice. Keep trying to hit me like that and I might have to take you to court, Sweetheart.” He winks.

“Oh please-” 

“How else am I going to run into you again?”

“Well-” You swallow trying to find the next words, but they’re stuck in the back of your throat. 

I am so out of practice. 

“Well?” He raises an eyebrow in a silent challenge, the end of his perfect mouth teased upwards in a smile. 

“This doesn’t have to be goodbye.”

“What did you have in mind?” The heat of his gaze sends goosebumps dancing over your skin and you swear you can feel your heartbeat in the base of your throat. 

People do this all the time. I can say it. I can-

“Maybe-” You scoot closer to him, summoning some courage from the tequila. “Something like this.” 

Your free hand curls into the front of his shirt to pull the stranger closer for a kiss.

Unfortunately, you pull him just a little too hard, with a little too much enthusiasm, and he falls off the stool with a startled cry in surprise and knocks his head into yours. 

“Ow.” You groan rubbing at the red mark forming on your forehead. “I am so sorry.” 

By now your cheeks are so warm that you could fry an egg on them and you were sure you looked like a giant raspberry. You had never been so clumsy or so embarrassed in your entire life. 

“It’s okay, you just surprised me a bit.” The man says, but he’s peering at the mark on your forehead. “Are you okay?” 

How many times is he going to ask me that tonight? 

“Yeah the only thing that’s hurt is my pride.” You let out an awkward laugh. “I’m just gonna-“ You gesture with your thumb over your shoulder to signify that you’re going to leave. 

The anecdotes that your friends were going to tell from tonight had already begun to manifest in your head:

“Hey, remember that time you tried to flirt with a gorgeous man at the bar and you headbutted him?”

“Hey, remember that handsome stranger? The one you told all about your failed physics test instead of sleeping with him?”

“Wait.” He gently puts his hand on your waist, sending your heart into a gallop. “Can we try that again?”

“Huh?” You blink in surprise.

So far all you’d done was head butt him and tell him your sob story about failing your physics test. 

Worst seduction technique ever. 

“Don’t move.” He smiles. “Don’t want to have to take you to the hospital for a CT if you bump my head again.” 

It would have made you laugh if he wasn’t already kissing you.

It might just be the alcohol talking, or the fact that the last thing you kissed was the strawberry pillows on the couch in the living room last week when Liza, Kay, and you were watching your favorite paranormal tv show and you were imagining the male lead, but this kiss is nothing like any of the others you’d had in the past. 

His mouth devours yours, beard scratching against your cheeks in a way that makes your entire body buzz. The man’s hands tighten your waist to draw you closer, closing the space between your bodies, and all you can feel is the wonderful drag of his fingertips against the end of your sweatshirt, the burn of his beard, the press of his chest onto yours, and the tangle of his tongue as you sink further into him. 

A moan vibrates up through his chest and into your mouth that you echo with a soft sigh, your hands slipping over the taunt muscles before finding purchase against his back, your fingertips curling into the soft fabric of his t-shirt. 

The rest of the bar is rendered to a dull throb of life at the back of your mind, the man in front of you absorbing the rest of your attention as he should. He is nothing like anyone you’d ever met and you wanted to know more. You wanted to see the end of the odd shaped scar just at the base of his throat, trail your fingers over the dark tattoos that decorated his skin while searching for more in places you couldn’t yet see, and sink into the deep green sea of his eyes. 

“Better?” He breathes.

“Much, but if you’re not into that, I also know the Second Law of Thermodynamics. Just to give you something to remember me by.” You mumble against his lips, still slightly embarrassed. Your hands were still curled behind his strong shoulders, fingertips digging into the firm muscles.

“Beside the bruises?” He smirks before he kisses you again, the languid roll of his tongue against yours makes you forget your own name. “I’d very much like to hear it.” The rumble of his words vibrates through where your bodies are pressed against one another. “But first let me get the car and then I’ll let you tell me all about it.” 

He brushes his lips to yours one more time, before he puts cash on the bar, and leaves you breathless as he saunters away towards the front door. 

Holy fucking shit. How did that work?

“Girl Yes!” You hear Kay, before you feel her hands come down on your shoulders to shake you excitedly. “I was a little worried in the middle there for you with that head butt, but yes! That’s how you do it!” Her excited squeal brings you back down to earth from the cloud you were floating on with Russell. 

“Where’d he go?” Liza asks. Matt was holding her from behind, his chin on her shoulder as he slowly rocked her to the music.

“To get the car.” Your cheeks flush at the insinuation. 

“Fuck I am so jealous. The only thing I’m going to get to do tonight is Sean’s back.” Kay gives an exaggerated sigh. “It’s acting up and that means I’m going to have to give him a massage for an hour and not the good kind. It always knocks him out.” 

“Aww babe.” Liza says. 

“It’s okay.” Kay shrugs, but then sends her a saucy wink. “I can do some laundry. His washing machine has this spin cycle that makes me see stars.” 

“I didn’t need to know that you’ve been molesting our washing machine.” Matt closes his eyes as if trying to scrub the image from his mind. 

“It’s money well spent, Mattie.” Kay batts her eyes at him. 

He huffs, but then turns his gaze on you, his blue eyes are filled with concern. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“Yeah.” You shrug, nerves popping and sizzling inside so much that they might as well be giving off enough electricity to power New York City. “I don’t get a creepy vibe from him. I think he’s actually kind of nice.” 

It was true. Your radar was usually on point with things like this, and there was something about Russell that didn’t scream axe murderer. He seemed surprisingly laid back and honest, and you found yourself curious to know more about him. 

Matt doesn’t look convinced.

“It’s okay babe.” Liza says, swaying her and his body to the music. “We have the app on our phones and we all know the safe word.” She continues, referencing the word the three of you designated when everything was okay as well as the other word that meant everything was going terribly wrong. 

You didn’t think that you would need it. 

He sighs. “Fine, but if he tries anything weird-”

“What qualifies as weird for you?” Kay asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve always been curious about your kinks.” 

Kay always took pride in getting under Matt’s skin. You never knew why that was, only that it seemed to be her mission to make him crack. He never did. 

“Be safe.” He nods at you before he drags Liza towards the door. 

“Seriously babe.” Kay begins to back away. “Be safe. Because the last thing you want to pass right now is a pregnancy test.” 

“Why are we friends again?” You groan as you follow behind her, weaving through the mass of bodies writhing to the newest song. 

The air outside the bar is cooler, but there’s just a hint of something on the wind. Spring was coming, but it was still far enough away to leave just a light chill in the air. The street in front of Duke’s was populated sporadically with cars of varying shapes and colors, but you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of car the mysterious stranger drove. 

Why didn’t I ask him for his name? 

“Because you’d be lost without me.” Kay laughs at you, but then pulls you into a hug. “Have fun and please try not to think about that stupid test. You’re so smart and I promise that one test is not going to define your entire future. If that were true my first organic chemistry test would have come with a refrigerator box to live in, because that test was literally the stuff of nightmares.” 

She frowns at the memory. It was the first test that she had ever failed in her entire life, and although you were the one who usually obsessed over grades, it was the first time you’d ever seen Kay so disappointed. That was also because her professor had asked her to stop by for office hours and told her that there was no way she’d ever be able to get the grades she needed in his class. 

But a weekend marathon of Sex and the City listening to her mentor Samantha Jones, had brought her back to life and she’d sauntered confidently into the classroom armed with a flat white latte and sat in the front row at every lecture the rest of the semester. 

She’d gotten the highest grade in the class. 

Basically, Kay was your hero, that was the real reason why you were her friend. 

“I’ll try my best. Tell Sean hi for me.” You squeeze her just as tight, before she walks away down the darkened path back to campus where Sean would be waiting for her. 

There was an odd glow over the sidewalks tonight, a yellowed light that crawled along the cracked brick building that housed Duke’s and halted just shy of the opening of the alley that ran between Duke’s and the bank next door. No other people were visible. Even the small crowd that usually leaned against the rustic brick wall outside of the bar smoking was nowhere to be seen. 

It was odd.

You rub your hands down your arms with nervous anticipation. You’d slept with someone from a bar one time before, but one night stands were not your forte at all. The last time it’d happened, you’d gone back with a guy to his apartment only to find out an hour later when his girlfriend got home that he wasn’t single. She hadn’t seemed surprised that you were in bed with him, but you had been when she pulled out a switchblade the size of your hand and began to slash through the neatly arranged collection of plush squish-mallows on the floor while screaming obscenities at the guy.

In hindsight, maybe the squish-mallows were a clue that he was in a relationship. 

But you didn’t have any bad feelings about the man you’d met. He was attractive, witty, nice, funny, and he genuinely seemed concerned about you when you almost choked to death on a sip of beer. 

I will make him forget the entire awkward encounter. 

You promised yourself, but you also began to be a little bit nervous. You didn’t know why it was taking him so long to find the car. 

A bird caws overhead, sweeping low across the buildings, feathers an inky black in the night air, its shadow flickering across the moon. 

Another two minutes pass and you start to get antsy. 

Maybe he just left?

The thought brings a wave of disappointment over you. The stranger was the first person in a long time that you’d felt genuinely attracted to and now you couldn’t help but think that maybe he lied and when he said he was going to get the car, he really was trying to get away from you as fast as possible. 

You take a few steps in the direction that Kay left thinking that you might as well cut your losses and see if you can catch up, but hesitate. 

What if I leave and he comes back? What if-

An odd noise that sounds like a cat hacking up a hairball comes from the alley directly to your right, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the pavement. 

You turn. Most of the alley is obscured in shadows, several large dumpsters jut out from grimy brick walls stained with God knows what, but you don’t see anything out of the ordinary. 

There are some lights fastened to the wall that runs the length of the bar, sending a dingy orange light over the bags of trash, empty flattened cardboard boxes, and plastic cups strewn over the wet ground. 

The door of Duke’s swings open for a moment, bringing the sounds and smells of the bar through the doorway as a woman enters tugging a sullen looking man behind her.

You turn your attention back to the empty alleyway, and catch the low rumble of a voice that sounds oddly familiar. It echoes through the darkness bouncing off the stone, metal, and bags of trash to where you stand at the dimly lit mouth of the alley.

That’s weird. 

Another sound follows the voice, a wet sounding thud that piques your interest. You take a tentative step forward into the darkness.

Wait. Isn’t this how every horror movie starts?

It was a valid question. But then you hear the voice again, it’s louder, vibrating against the brick and mortar, and it pulls your forward. 

Anxiety hums through your body as you inch down the alley, sticking to the well lit side that runs the length of Duke’s.

“Who sent you?” The familiar voice asks.

There’s no answer, and the sound of the cat choking up a hairball comes back. 

Someone needs to get Grizabella a glass of water.

You take another shaky step passing by the first dumpster before you reach the part of the alley that wraps around the back of the bar. 

At first you’re not sure what you see. The part of the alley behind the bar is more of a cramped street with a tire marked dirt path, bathed in awkward light from the moon and from a lazy streetlight that’s only half lit. There’s another dumpster back here, this one a little larger than the others you’d seen along the side of the building, but that isn’t what’s interesting. 

The image comes into focus. 

The stranger from the bar is standing there, his back to you, but he isn’t alone. The stranger has a man pinned to the dumpster, a large knife stabbed into the space between the man’s collarbone and his right shoulder while his other hand is clasped tightly around the man’s neck.

“Who sent you?!” The stranger roars, the knife digging into the man’s shoulder. 

Your entire body freezes in fear.

My radar was so wrong. How could it be this wrong? He was so caring and kind- That’s what they said about Ted Bundy. 

Your gaze drops to what you thought was a garbage bag at the green-eyed stranger's feet, but realize that it’s not a bag, it’s a body.

Holy shit he’s a murderer! Maybe if I just back away slowly-

You take a slow step backwards hoping to edge back into the alley that runs the length of the bar and forget this night ever happened, but instead of your foot finding solid ground, it finds a forgotten potato chip bag. 

The crinkled plastic crunches underfoot, breaking the still silence of the night. You inhale sharply and look up. Your gaze locks with the green-eyed man.

“I didn’t see anything.” You hold up your hands, backing away slowly. “Have a nice night.”

“Wait-”

“Nope.” You turn and flee down the alley hoping that someone is coming out of the bar at the exact moment who can witness the broad stranger chasing after you. His boots thud against the concrete, splashing through water in hot pursuit, contrasting against the plods of your own feet sloshing through puddles and through trash to get back to the light.

Before you make it halfway through the darkness, he grabs your arm and turns you to look at him. 

“Let me go!” You shriek, tugging at his grip, preparing to kick him between his legs, the only place that matters.

“Please wait. I can explain!” 

“You don’t have to explain!” You keep pulling at his arm. “I didn’t see anything! I don’t know who you are. And you know what? I wasn’t even in the bar tonight! I was back in my apartment watching Crime Scene Kitchen!” 

It was the first thing that popped into your head, but if it meant that you got to live, it would be your alibi.

He hesitates confused. “What’s Crime Scene Kitchen?”

“What? You just fucking murdered someone in an alley, you’re about to murder me, and that’s what you’re asking me?” You scream.

“I’m not going to murder you. And I was the one who was attacked!”

“Oh sure!” Fear clamps down hard on your throat squeezing the air coming in through your lungs. Tears begin to burn against your eyes as you try to release his grip. “Somebody help me!” You scream loudly trying to twist away from him and wishing that you’d brought your bottle of pepper spray or that you’d taken the self-defense class last summer with Kay or at least paid more attention to that scene in Miss Congeniality.

How could I have been so stupid? He’s going to kill me here and I’ll never know what that physics test did to my GPA. 

You frown slightly at that thought. It really is weird what goes through your head when you think you’re going to die. 

“Please, let me explain.” He says again, eyes wide and filled with an emotion that looks surprisingly like regret.

His dark hair has fallen forward over his cheeks that are flecked with blood, but the lights that line the wall of the dark alley perfectly frame his face. He looked like a model for a beer commercial or one that they’d roughed up a little for those weird perfume commercials you saw that never made any sense, but were always intriguing. 

Why are all the hot ones crazy? Why couldn’t he have just been a bad kisser? Or maybe a little too loud? Why is his flaw that he freaking MURDERS people? 

As you think that, there is a little voice inside your head that asks: Could I be okay with that? 

NO! OF COURSE NOT!

“There’s nothing to explain! You’re a murderer! You just killed those people!” You aim a kick at his crotch, but the man only catches your ankle with his large hand. You could feel the warmth of his skin through your sweatpants, the sensation that brought warm tingles through your body when you were in the bar, only sends a wave of fear crashing over you.

“Yes I did, but for a good reason!”

“Really? What reason was that!?”

“They were trying to kill me!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“I-”

Before he can finish his sentence, gunfire explodes over your head. Sparks fly as bullets crash into the dumpsters and rip through the night air around where you and the man are standing.

There’s a large black suburban parked in the street that runs behind Duke’s where you’re found the stranger with the body. Three men stand in front of it all in dark clothing and each one is  holding a pistol pointed directly at where you’re standing. 

“Holy shit!” You scream, but the stranger tackles you back behind the large rusting green dumpster that juts out and gives you cover from the blaze of bullets.

His body lays over yours, curving protectively around you, and his arm is behind you head so when you hit the ground, your head doesn’t. The impact of the cold, wet, concrete beneath your body jostles through your system, but you can’t focus on it too much, not when the man’s entire body is laying on top of yours and it feels as if he was made especially for you. 

He lays in the cradle of your thighs, wonderfully broad and hard, the muscles of his body contrasting to the soft curves of your body underneath your clothes. It left very little to the imagination, well… not little. 

It’s enough to make a girl forget that he’s a murderer… No, what am I saying!!

You shove him off of you and cower back behind the dumpster, the sound of gunfire filling your ears and making you realize exactly what you smelled on the man earlier that you thought was smoke. 

“Baby-” He says reaching out to comfort you.

“Don’t touch me! I’m not your baby!” You swat his hands away from you pressing yourself back into the wet wall of the alley. 

The smell of mold and trash was rising all around you in an unholy mist. The wet ground soaked into the soft fabric of your pants and left stains that you didn’t want to think about what they were. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit-” It comes out like a sickening mantra as you rock back and forth, hands on your ears to make the sound of the gunfire stop.

I’m going to die here. In this dismal back alley. In front of this gorgeous murder. If I had know that I wouldn’t have spent so much of this week studying for a mother-fucking physics test!

“Sweetheart!” The man shouts to catch your attention, but you don’t look at him. 

“What in the devil’s ass is happening?!” You shriek.

“Listen to me!” He shouts louder over the sound of gunfire and takes your cheeks in his rough palms to make him look at him. His green eyes are brilliant in the light, but filled with a determined fire that makes you suddenly feel very safe despite watching him kill someone and the active gunfire bouncing all around you. 

You wanted to trust him, but you also didn’t want to be on the news or used as a cautionary tale for mothers to guilt their daughters with. 

“I promise that nothing is going to happen to you.”

“How can you guarantee that?!”

“Because I don’t break my promises.” The determined grit in his eyes hardens as they sweep over your face. “I will explain what’s going on. But first I have to go talk to them.” He releases your face, but hesitates. 

The man wasn’t bothering to duck and cover, in fact each time a bullet ricocheted off the side of the dumpster he didn’t even flinch, meanwhile the sour taste of bile was rising into your mouth and you were sure that you were going to throw up. Panic was setting in, and your heart rate was getting dangerously high as anxiety and fear flickered along your nerve endings. 

Oh my sweet goodness he’s mentally unstable.

“Actually.” He sighs and flashes an awkward smile. “I don't want to lie to you. I’m going to go kill them. Don’t move.” He reaches into the waistband at the back of his worn jeans and pulls out a gun. 

Has he had that this whole time? HOW did I not feel it? 

“Wait what? Don’t go out there!” Your fingers fist in the front of his jacket, the fear of him leaving you more than the fear of him murdering you. At this point it was either be killed by the beautiful stranger or killed by the other guys, and being killed by the other guys meant that you’d have to meet someone new and look where that had gotten you tonight. 

“They’re not exactly going to leave on their own.” He cracks a smile despite the situation. “But promise me you’re not going to move.” His smile turns into a concerned frown, eyebrows furrowing together as his eyes settle on you once more, steely and unyielding. 

“I promise.” Your voice comes out shaky and not at all what you sound like. Truthfully you were surprised that you got anything to come out of your mouth that wasn't vomit.

He nods once. 

When he leaves, you wait exactly three seconds, counting each of them out in your head before you take off in a dead run for the front door of Duke’s bar and into the safety of the street beyond without looking back while hoping that all of this has just been a bad dream. 

Coming back to the apartment feels surreal, crossing through the living room like a Salvador Dali painting, and finally closing your bedroom door and locking it is like a mirage. 

You weren’t sure how you made it back here, only that you did, and that was all that mattered.

Kay and Liza weren’t home, predictably, but you would have tried to call both of them if you hadn’t dropped your phone in the cluster fuck that was everything that happened an hour ago. Because on top of everything now you didn’t have any way to contact your friends and let them know that you’re alive and okay.  

Your body was still buzzing with the anxiety of everything that happened, mind going a mile a minute the longer you allowed it to bathe in the memories of being shot at and watching the stranger kill those men. 

The stranger that somehow was able to trick your radar.

I just need to breathe, relax, and- 

You turn around towards your bed expecting to go to sleep and forget all of it, but the thought stutters to a halt as you realize you’re not alone. The green-eyed stranger is standing there in the center of your bedroom. He is holding a bundle of your clothes in one hand and your empty school backpack in the other. 

“What the fuck?!” You scream and reach for the Strawberry Shortcake bat your dad bought you when you moved out, hefting it high on your shoulder preparing to swing. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He raises an eyebrow at your awkward stance. “Why are you holding a bright pink baseball bat?”

“All the better beat the shit out of rapists who break into my apartment in the middle of the night!”

“What happened to murderer?” The end of his lips lift up in a smile too perfect to be real. He almost seems to be enjoying this, like he thinks you’re being cute and not accusing him of something terrible. 

“That too!”

He laughs at you, but then his smile slips into a frown.“Why did you break your promise?” You don't understand why he looks like a kicked puppy at the thought that you broke your promise. 

Of course I didn’t keep it! I was running for my life to get out of the way of the millions of bullets pointed at my head!

“What?”

“You promised that you would stay there and you didn’t. You could have been killed.” Worry flashes in his gaze, and your eyes drop to the flecks of blood on the outside of his jacket that remind you of everything this man had done tonight.

“Oh, well excuse me for breaking a promise I made to a murderer!” 

“I’m not a murderer.” 

“If the boot fits!” You snap back. “You showing up in my bedroom certainly seems plenty murdery. That and you going through my underwear drawer for a little souvenir.” Your eyes narrow in suspicion. 

“A souvenir?” The man laughs at you again, his shoulders shaking. He’s still wearing the same clothes he was in the alley, and again you’re momentarily stunned by how attractive he is.

“Why else would you be going through my drawers? And how do you know where I live!?”

“That’s not important right now.” The man shoves the bundle of your clothes into your backpack before moving back to the chest of drawers in the corner of your bedroom for another handful.

“What the fuck do you mean that’s not important right now? And what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m packing you a bag.”

“What? Why? So it’ll look like I ran away?!”

Oh holy fuck he’s still going to kill me!

You swing the bat as hard as you can, but the man raises the backpack to block your attack. 

“Calm down Derek Jeter! I’m not going to murder you, please stop saying that.”

“Why?”

He frowns and shrugs his shoulders. “Because it’s hurting my feelings a little bit.” 

“Hurting your-” You shake your head in disbelief. “Look, I have no idea who the fuck you are or why you broke into my apartment but-”

“Hi. I’m Russell.” The man now identified as ‘Russell’ holds out his hand to try and shake yours. 

That’s obviously a fake name. 

You stare at him blankly. “Are you insane?”

“No, I just told you, I’m  Russell. And we have to go.” He retracts his hand and begins to shove clothes into your backpack again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, crazy! I have class in the morning and an exam in two days!” You heft the baseball bat higher on your shoulder as a silent threat.

Judging by the way he blocked your attack so easily a few moments ago, you didn’t have high hopes. But you did think that if you screamed loud enough your elderly neighbor, aptly named Willy due to the many, many times he’d flashed Kay, Liza, and you “accidentally,” would come over at least to see if you had any extra magazines to take back to his hoarder apartment that was stacked floor to ceiling with yellowed newspapers long out of print. 

Russell sighs, and looks from the bat to you, shoulders relaxing a millimeter, but there’s still something determined in his gaze. “I understand that you’re scared, but those guys, they saw you with me.”

“So?”

“So if I leave you here with no protection, they’re going to come here and take you.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yes I do!” He replies, the edge of his voice is tinged with anger and frustration. 

“How?”

“Look!” Russell holds up a battered phone. Displayed on the cracked screen is a message thread of texts to an unknown number. Russell clicks on one of the pictures that was sent an hour ago, about the time the two of you met.

As it grows larger on the screen you recognize the two people in it. It’s a picture of Russell and you kissing at the bar. Your eyes are closed, hands curved over his shoulders possessively, while you smile into his mouth.

The memory of the kiss sends a warm tingle down your spine as you remember how good the kiss was. It was definitely in the top ten, hell, it was number one. 

Don’t be seduced by his charm and good looks! You saw him kill someone tonight! Not to mention he probably killed those other guys that were shooting at you.

Russell swipes his finger over the screen again, this time the picture is of him and you talking, your face on full display. You’re laughing at something Russell said with your right hand resting on the cool bottle of beer you never finished. Honestly, if anyone was seeing those photos for the first time it would look like Russell and you were together. 

“You took pictures of me!?” You shout. “You’re a fucking freak!” 

“Sweetheart, listen to me-”

“I’m not your Sweetheart. You’re just some random murder that I met at a bar!”

The things that I’ve said tonight for the first time could be an SNL skit. Why me?

“For the last time, I am not a murder! And I didn’t take those photos. The men who were after me did.”

“So? Why would they care about some random girl?”

“Because they don’t know you’re some random girl I met! They think that you’re important to me and until I figure out who they sent these pictures to, you’re not safe.”

“Can’t you text them and say that you just met me tonight? That it’s a pure coincidence?! That I’m not important to you.” You point at the cracked phone, waving your free hand frantically at it.

Russell laughs at your question. “Are you kidding? Do you think they’re going to believe me?”

“I don’t know! And how would they know where I live?”

“The same way I knew how.”

That is a good point. How did he know where I lived?

You hesitate, gaze flicking over where Russell stands with your backpack in his hand, but another idea begins to wiggle from the depths of your mind. “Wait. Is this some kind of kinky thing you do? Some fetish? Pretending to be a spy or that people are after you just to get yourself all hot and bothered?”

“What?” Now it’s Russell’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. 

You take that as confirmation. “It is! Holy fuck, that is so messed up.”

Wow forget murderer, he’s an actual psychopath. Why the hell did I drop my phone?

Kay and Liza weren’t going to be back tonight. Especially not if they think that you took “Russell,” if that really is his name, back to the apartment. You had no other way of contacting them, except with your laptop that was sitting closed on your bed behind where Russell was standing. 

“Wait a minute. I’m not a spy.”

“Exactly, that’s the point! You’re pretending to make me-”

“No, I’m not. I promise all of this is real!” Russell sighs frustrated. “I know that you don’t want to believe me, but it isn’t safe here. And I can protect you!”

“That’s exactly what you would say to kidnap me!”

“Sweetheart. I am not going to kidnap you, I’m trying to keep you safe. I mean, if I have to kidnap you I will-”

Your eyes widen and you heft the bat high on your shoulder prepared to swing.

“Sorry, that was a bad joke.” He holds up his hands in surrender, flashing an apologetic smile. “What would it take to make you believe me?”

It was the question that you had been contemplating since he’d protected you in the alley. You knew nothing about him, didn’t know what he did for a living, and you’d only just learned his name. But despite everything that happened there was a little part of yourself that wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe everything he was telling you, well, not the part about you being in danger and the idea that people now wanted to kill you, but the part about being able to trust him. 

You think about the way he made you feel at the bar, when he listened to you complain about your physics test and made you laugh. You’d trusted him then, enough to go home with him or at least, try to go home with him. 

“I don’t know.” The bat slips a little bit from your shoulder with your honesty. “Do you have any character references?”

Russell cracks a smile. “Isn’t it a little early for you to ask me about my old girlfriends? Don’t think any of them would be willing to say anything good about me either.”

This time you can feel a little smile begin to tug at the end of your lips, one that Russell notices. 

“I know that you’re scared.” He takes a tentative step forward. “But I promise that I will explain everything to you, answer all your questions, but all I know is that you’re not safe here. And I can’t in good conscience leave, if I know you’re in danger.”

The look in his eyes had the determined fire you’d seen many times tonight, but there was something honest about it. They saw through you, and even though you had spent most of the night terrified and believed him to be a murderer, you didn’t think that someone like that would be so determined for you to go with him. 

It felt like two parts of your head were at war. You wanted to trust Russell, you didn’t think he was lying to you, but you had seen him kill those men. And there was an unfortunate part of you that worried he made all of this up to kidnap you. 

But I think if he meant to do that… he would have jumped me the minute I walked into my bedroom, he wouldn’t have said “hi.”

“I know this whole thing sounds crazy. But the last thing I want is for you to die because of something stupid I did. Please.”

You bite the inside of your cheek thinking about Kay and Liza. “If I leave, what about my roommates? They live here too.” 

He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m not going to sugar coat it Sweetheart, there’s always a chance that they’ll be hurt, but with you gone, there’s also a chance that these guys will focus more on finding me.”

“So basically you can’t guarantee their safety?”

“No.” He drops his gaze for a moment, but then he looks at you again. “But I can guarantee yours and I don’t want to take the chance with your life. And my brother is smart, maybe he can figure out a way to keep them safe too.”

You stand there for a moment contemplating what he’s saying, the memories of everything that happened tonight rising up in an unrelenting wave, not just cowering behind the dumpster, but the kiss the two of you shared, and the way he made you laugh.

I want to trust him. I don’t think he’s lying, I don’t think he’s going to hurt me. You think to yourself, and then the inevitable thought comes. I feel safe with him. 

“Do you promise that your name is Russell and that you’re telling me the truth?” You ask one more time to make sure.

“Yes.”

So you take a chance and hope to God that you’re not wrong. 

“Okay.” You nod, lowering the bat entirely. “I’ll go with you.”

He sighs in relief. “Good.” Russell holds out the backpack towards you. “You should probably pack this. If I had my way, there won’t be much in here besides underwear.”

“You’re such a guy.” You roll your eyes and take the backpack from him, but you can't help the smile that curls on the end of your mouth.

Russell returns it, pleased with himself that he'd gotten you to smile again. “That's better than you accusing me of being a murderer.”

“Jury’s still out on that one.” 

“But you have to admit… this did make you forget your physics test right?”

He's not wrong... but you don’t think that this is better.

A/N: I had so much fun with this one. I hope y'all laughed as much as I did 😂

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist please let me know!

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[basilbots]

Enough

A ficlet about Bard (Ruin) and Eclipse reflecting on their relationship, takes place after they've settled into the EAPS dimension | Words 629

“I do nothing for you.”

Eclipse paused from where he was typing away on a project, glancing to the side. Bard was lounging in a beanbag chair they had dragged over to be near Eclipse while he worked, staring blankly at the ceiling. They twitched feeling Eclipse’s questioning gaze but did not look up to meet it. 

Eclipse frowned and rolled back from the computer, “What are you talking about?” 

Bard sat up, fierce red and gold eyes now timidly darting away before they could linger on him long, “You do so much for me and for what? I’ve- I told you once before I don’t do friends anymore!”

His words quickened and raised into an incredulous pitch, betraying an anxiousness that was absent the first time Bard cheerfully told him this “fact”. Eclipse wished he could say this was new behavior, but Bard had been more nervous and downtrodden as of late. This was just the first time they’ve actually given words to what they were so bothered about. 

“You’re being an idiot,” Eclipse started, frown deepening when Bard only flinched rather than give an offended glare like usual. Rays slowly spinning in thought he continued with a softer voice, “You do plenty for me.” 

Bard’s rays twitched at that. He stubbornly kept his gaze away from Eclipse, claws now digging into the beanbag. Silence was his response. 

Eclipse kept looking at him, “You invite me to tea parties to take my mind away from work. You talked to this Sun and Moon to prevent me from fucking up yet another relationship. You choose to spend every day close to me to keep me company even though I’m a jackass.” 

Bard couldn’t help but let out a laugh, quick and sharp. “Selfish! It’s all selfish, I was only trying to benefit myself and make my life easier. That’s all I do. Shouldn’t you know this by now, dear? Everyone else has put it together.”

There was no masking the bitterness that laced that last sentence, and Eclipse couldn’t help the wave of anger that washed over him. He tried not to stand up too aggressively and failed as Bard flinched again. But they finally met his eyes with a weary look, giving way to bafflement as Eclipse knelt down in front of him. “Selfish huh? Then I’m selfish as well. How selfish of me to keep you, to want someone around that I can understand, who won’t judge me, where I know in another universe things work out between us. I’m just awful aren't I for wanting a friend.”

Eclipse’s gaze was intense, and Bard squirmed under the attention. He took their hands, which slid into his hold without resistance, and squeezed. Eclipse’s second pair of hands tore into the carpet. He knew the two of them were far from good individuals, but hearing those words from Bard still made him burn. Seeing that his image of himself was so poisoned that simply having a friend was proof of his own awfulness, because stars forbid they do anything that makes them happy without it being twisted as something terribly self-serving. The knowledge that other individuals contributed to- encouraged this mindset had Eclipse holding back a growl. How was Bard supposed to become a better person if every action that isn’t unrelenting self-loathing the wrong one? Closing their eyes, Bard squeezed his hands back, “You make it sound silly when you put it that way… I can’t see it like that, not when it’s me.”

But he will, one day, Eclipse will make sure of it.

“You don’t have to right now just… Believe me when I say that I think you do enough for me. That’s what matters. Okay?”

There was silence, then a resigned sigh.

“Okay.”

[moeblob]

I am social'd out and very tired.

[tender-rosiey]

from me to you — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏

“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”

that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.

you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.

you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.

hey, honey!!

it first reads.

I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.

you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.

first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!

you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.

what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.

“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”

“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”

you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.

second, there are times when I would tell megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.

your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.

it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’

no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.

you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually not be looming tomorrow.

it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.

he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.

third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.

at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.

it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.

satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.

“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”

“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”

you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”

“we could both stay!”

“you’re kidding, right?”

“I already told yaga; I miss you!”

you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.

fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.

a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.

add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.

you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.

“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”

“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”

“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”

you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.

he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.

then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.

fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.

you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.

your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.

hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.

“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.

“three am thoughts?”

“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”

you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”

he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”

I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?

your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.

the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.

“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.

megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”

“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”

the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or I will tell @callmemirro

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[luvyeni]

COMPUTER FREAK 𝕼. ( 제이크 )

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 제이크 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. loser!jake. reader is a coder but not much of coding is talked about. handjobs. unprotected sex. sub!jake. word count. 4.1k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

synopsis … this couldn’t be happening right now; he had to be stuck in some fucked up nightmare. there’s no way his computer did this — not while he was doing that.

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ i don’t write sub often but when i do it’s like i go a bit crazy 😗… enjoy!

jake really had it all; he was smart, he passed every test he took. he was handsome, many girls would love to be with him; not like they had a chance though. he wasn’t interested in them. he was interested in you, the computer savvy girl who moved into the apartment he shared along with heeseung, jay sunghoon about a year ago.

but jake was terrible at talking to girls; especially you. he’s never been around a girl who’s both nerdy like him, but also fucking hot as you. when you first moved into the apartment he did his best to avoid you, knowing he’d never be able to hold a full conversation with you — but then he felt bad , because you were extremely nice to him , you even made him cookies to show your appreciation… you were even a good fucking baker, was their anything you couldn’t do.

“yn you have to put on some shorts.” jay said as you sat down. “i have shorts on.” you lifted up the shirt , they all averted their eyes. “be for real , you people are the last guys i’d ever flash.” you sat down. “i’ve smelt what that damn bathroom smells like after one of you's been in there.” you grimaced , pushing your glasses up on your face. “ you fixed the wifi?” heeseung asked. “you mean plug it back in? yes and if you call me at 12 in the morning to do it again im going wash my pink thong with all your white clothes.”

“he’d like that i think , he’d get to touch your panties.” sunghoon teased and you rolled your eyes. “no you know who would like it.” heeseung smirked pointing past you; which made you turn around. “good morning jake.” you smiled. “go-good morning yn.” he sat down. “go-good morning yn.” heeseung teased him , he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “now that the family is all together time for our morning meeting.” jay said. “you mean jays nagging time.” everyone laughed at your joke. “im gonna put you on the streets yn.”

“i pay my fair share of utilities; so no you can’t kick me out.” you smiled. “well then i’ll rent your room out , good luck with a new roommate.” you shrugged. “i’ll just share a room with jake, you don’t mind jake?” you turned to him. “hu-huh?” he stuttered. “we-well i mean.” he stressed to find the right words. “you say that now until you find a hard sock in the closet you’ll be sharing.” him and sunghoon snickered. “shut up.” the boy said softly from beside you. “heeseung you proudly show your fleshlight on the night stand?” you said. “it’s my room isn’t it.” your nose scrunched up in disgust. “you’re a pervert.”

“i am man yn , men do men things.” he shot back. “you’re hardly a man.” you stood up. “how about i follow you back to your room and show you how much of a man i am.” you pushed your glasses up , fake gagging. “i respect myself , no thank you.” you walked back to your room. “she knows she wants me.” the guys at the table shook their heads. “does she really?”

jake stood up , putting his cereal bowl in the sink. “i have to go to work,” he said. “do you have to work late today? i have a package being delivered and I need someone to be here and sign it.” sunghoon said. “yn doesn’t work today , she’ll be here.” sunghoon sighed. “she was here last time they came but she was too busy coding to pay attention.” he rolled his eyes. “she’s a coder , that’s her job.” heeseung said , he was another coder , just as passionate as you. “you can’t just pull away from it to open a door.”

“especially if just porn , i opened the box , that’s disgusting.” jake didn’t even entertain his friends , ready to leave. “she was trying make a code for a sims mod she wanted , it wasn’t that important and stop opening my damn mail.” jake spoke up. “i’ll be home.” and with that he was out the door.

his work day was exhausting; he just wanted to go home and sleep. he opened the door; kicked off his shoes at the front , stopping to get water from the fridge , before making his way to his room. “sunghoon is that you?” he heard your door open , sticking your head out. “oh hi jake.” you stepped out of your room , you were dressed in the same shorts from this morning— but instead of a long shirt , you have a cropped tank top on. he had to fight himself to not look at your boobs , but it was hard when they were so full and plump and he just wanted to lay his head on them , touch them… fuck them. “jake?” you waved your hands in front of his face. “h-huh?”

you chuckled; your boobs slightly bouncing. fuck , you didn’t have a bra on. “i asked how was work? did you eat?” he coughed awkwardly, his softened cock stirring in his pants. “o-oh yeah , i had some ramen.” he said. “you need to start eating more healthy , those ramens aren’t good for you.” you grabbed his shoulder. “if you want i can make you lunch to take , heeseung pays me to do it , but you don’t annoy me half as much , so it’s no need.” he nodded. “th-thank you.” he stuttered out , desperate to get to his room , not to sleep anymore , but for other reasons. “okay , it will be in the fridge with heeseungs in the morning.” you turned to go back into your room. “and if sunghoon comes , tell him the package did come and i got but im holding it hostage until he gives me the 100 bucks he owes me for hacking into his instagram account because his dumbass forgot his password.” he nodded and you closed your door.

he basically sprinted to his room; locking the door behind him. “fuck.” he cursed , his hard cock desperate to be touched. sitting down in his gaming chair , pulling up his screen on his pc , hand already palming his needy cock. “sh-shit.”

here’s where jake might be a pervert; he’s tried so hard to just go to twitter and watch the random porn there — but he just couldn’t , it had to be specific; he’s perfectly curated a playlist full of porn and pornstars… ones that look as close to you as they could , because in his eyes no one could look like you , but they could look similar to you. but not only that , they sounded like you too…

this started a few months ago; he stumbled across a video and he couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the video; the pornstar looked like you. glasses , same build — and tits just as big as yours. not only that , she sorta sounded like you; but he knew it wasn’t you. she didn’t have same cute nose you had; and her voice was just a smidge deeper and of course no one else might’ve noticed , but he did. that was the first night he past out in his chair , covered in cum; his dick sore for the constant tugging of it. he came to that video more times than he liked to admit that night.

he then started a quest of finding videos just like it; saving them to his computer, all of them ranging from pov to cumshots; professional to amateur, hell he even had solo and couple porns , but they all had a common denominator — they resembled or sounded like you. he was yet to find one of titty fucking yet; but he was looking. “mmh , which one.” he groaned , clicking his favorite , cock now free from his underwear , slowly stroking it as he went through the playlist. “let’s do a real old one.” he clicked the video , sitting back in his chair.

the video is only 1 minute and nine seconds long; but it’s the perfect video — the closest he was ever to getting a direct look like of you; the glasses were identical , everything was… including the boobs. “oh fuck.” he began stroking his cock , just as the model began stroking the cock of her partner. it was a pov , his favorite. because then he could imagine it was him , and you were stroking his cock for real. “oh fuck that feels good.” he moaned.

he bit his lip to cover a moan; he couldn’t risk you hearing him or anybody in the house for that matter because then they’d never let him live it down. he began to speed up, the video replaying over and over as he hunched over in his chair , so close to a desperate relief. he watch the guy cum all over the girls glasses , which he dreamt of doing to you on numerous of occasions; your pretty smile as he covered you in ropes of cum. “fuck yn im gonna cum.” he moaned — then his computer stopped.

his hand immediately stopped; hissing as he ruined his own orgasm. “what the fuck?” he said , hitting the side of the screen; he knew it would do nothing but he still gave it a try. then he realized his worst nightmare has come true; his screen froze, with the porn still on it. this couldn’t be happening right now; he had to be stuck in some fucked up nightmare. there’s no way his computer did this — not while he was doing that.

he quickly unplugged the computer; waited for a bit — he was desperate; he even blew on the plug in hopes it worked. ”please.” he plugged it back in— and no , the screen was still the same, and on the worst part as well , right when he came on the girls face. he couldn’t believe his screen was stuck on this , what else he couldn’t believe is that he still wanted to finish.

he stuck his head out of his door; praying your door wasn’t open. he almost jumped for joy as saw that it wasn’t, he just had to make it to heeseungs room. he quietly knocked on the door , heeseung emerging right after. “what im on my way out.” he said. “no , wait come here.” jake said. “follow me to my room.” heeseung looked at his friend. “you’re good looking but i am a man who loves pussy.” jake rolled his eyes. “just come.” he pushed the door open. “make sure the door is closed.” he panicked. “what is it?”

“don’t laugh.” he started. “if you laugh i don’t know what i’ll do but it will be very drastic.” he said , heeseung grew tired. “come on, show me i have a hot hook up in about 30 minutes, something you’d know about if you did hide in here on your computer doing god knows what.” jake plugged the computer back in , the frozen screen popping back up into frame. “yo dude , what the fuck?” he exclaimed , jake covered his mouth. “don’t shout i don’t want her to hear.” he pointed to the door. “ew gross.” he pushed the boys hand away. “i clearly see what you do with those hands , never touch me again.”

“please help me.” he said. “it’s stuck and it won’t go away.” he whined. “get rid of it for me.” heeseung sighed walking over to the computer , bending down. “whoa , this looks like yn.” he said. “holy shit , if it wasn’t for the subtle differences i would think this was her…” heeseung trailed off. “is this why you’re watching this , because it looks like her?” heeseung smirked. “bro you’re a freak honestly.” he said turning back to the screen. “but respect.” he shrugged. “do you have any others.”

“is that important? can you get it off?” jake asked , already embarrassed. “no.” the boy stood straight. “this is out of my area of expertise,” he said. “heeseung please try.” the boy begged. “you know who might be able to figure this out.” no please don’t say her. “yn , she just helped jay unfreeze his computer too , his didn’t have porn that looked like her on it , but I’m sure this won’t freak her out that bad.”

he couldn’t possibly ask you; you’d probably stop talking to him. think he’s so weird, he thinks he’s weird. “you do school work on here so you’re gonna need her to do it , just pray she has a sense of humor.” he said walking out the door. “and if you get your computer working , send that to me.”

he dreaded doing this; how could he ask you this? he felt his heart in his ass as he knocked on the door. “yn?” he waited. “come in.” he heard your sweet voice , pushing the door open. “hi jake , what can i do for you?” you turned around in your pink chair , legs crossed in the seat. “um we-well i co-could use your help.” he said. “in what?” you chirped , god he was so sick , even in his time of desperation, he couple only think about sinking his cock in between your plush toys , and fucking them until he covered you in his cum. “it-its with my computer , it’s kinda hard to explained.” he said — and sure it was. “oh okay , let’s go take a look at it.”

you got up from your seat; walking past him and out the room. “it’s probably nothing i can’t fix.” you opened the door to his room. “it smells surprisingly okay in here.” you made your way over to the computer. “okay , now what’s wrong with it?” you said , searching. “oh wait it’s not even plugged in , let– wait not.” it was too late , you had already plugged it in; the dreaded screen popping up , you were face to face with what seemed like your doppelgänger — in such a compromising position. “um okay.” you said.

“yn im so sorry , it’s not what it looks like.” he said. “well what it looks like is me.” you said. “except my boobs are much nicer than those.” his eyes widened , did you really just say that? “she even has my glasses , are my glasses porn star glasses?” you were taking this extremely well. “yo-you’re not upset?” he said , you chuckled. “jake we live in a confined space and see each other every day, honestly i wouldn’t be concerned in the slightest if this wasn’t me but one of the guys.”

“can you fix it?” you laughed, he was confused. “did you ask heeseung?” he nodded. “wh-why are you asking?” you pressed the ctrl key , then the alt key and then finally the del key. “because it’s so simple to fix this.” you said clicking restart. “you didn’t need me , you just asked heeseung on the day he was being a dick.” he was even more embarrassed now. “there’s no need to be embarrassed jakey.” you sat down in his seat. “i told you im not upset about the video.” you said. “are there more?” you said his eyes widened. “i mean come on , this video is too accurate , hell i wouldn’t thought you edited my head on to it but that’s obvious you didn’t , so that means you had to go searching for this.” you said. “and this can’t be the only one jake , i know it.”

“show them to me.” you said. “yo-you want me to show you, for real?” you moved the chair back allowing him to move in front of the computer. “show me.” you watched him intently as he clicked on the keys; he could feel the burn from your stare as you watched him pull up the album with almost 100 photos and videos. “oh?” you scooted closer; so close that if even turned his head , he’d be staring directly down at your chest. “my god , why do i have so many pornstar look alikes?” you said. “so-some of them are the same.” he said. “ah i can see that.”

you scrolled through the videos; he watched you trembling, his cock twitching in his jeans , he never had a proper release. “oh is this the one you were watching when it froze.” you clicked on it. “wait yn.” you waited for the video to load. “he’s not the biggest.” you said , watching the model jerk him off. “y-yn.” he was so fucking hard right now he felt like he was gonna cum in his pants. “this video is too forced.” you paused it. “he’s barely even moaning.” you said , you were now turning facing him. “how do you sound?”

was this happening right now? were you seriously asking this? “u-um.” his hand went to his cock , to cover it. “don’t cover it.” you moved his hands. “im assuming you didn’t get to finish?” he nodded ; still thinking he was joking , until he felt your hand on his clothes dick. “y-yn.” he whimpered , you pouted. “oh poor you , you’re throbbing.” you stroked him through his pants. “you like my boobs jakey?”

he nodded and you stopped moving, he let out a whine. “oh don’t be so upset.” you took your tank top off , your boobs bouncing from the impact. “come on , i want you to cum just like he did.” you picked his cock back up; kissing his tip, looking up at him — this was his dream , to have you like this; stroking his cock. “you wanna cum jakey don’t you?” he whimpered , nodding. “ye-yes , please let me cum.” you cupped his balls which made him moan loudly. “fuck im gonna cum.” you were getting turned on from hearing him moan. “cum for me.” and he couldn’t help it , that set him off. “im cumming!” he shouted , as cum spurted from his tip on to your face, hitting your glasses. “fuck.” you kept stroking him , his legs twitching. “i can’t , i came , i came stop.” he whimpered. “please stop.” you finally gave him a rest , releasing his cock. “so cute.” you brought your fingers to your lips. “you’re so sensitive , you came so much and i barely did anything.”

you stood up , switching places with him. “i-i can go again , i just need a minute.” he huffed , you smiled. “yeah?” you straddled his lap. “is watching another one of these gonna help , or do you want me to help you get hard again?” you kissed the back of his ear. “i can help you.” your hand came to his , bringing it to your boobs. “do they feel nice?” he nodded. “i’ve seen you staring at them before.” you said , moaning as he began to knead it. “fuck that feels so good.” you grinded against him. “they're so sore , you’re making me feel so good.” your fingers tangling up in his hair. “su-such a good boy.” and just like that he was hard again. “oh i see you liked that?” you chuckled. “ca-can i put it in now?” he didn’t want to cum just from you sitting on it. “i don’t know , you really haven’t been a good boy.” he whimpered.

“i-i have.” he said , his hair sticking to your forehead. “really?” you moved again. “good boys don’t jerk off to their roommate without permission do they?” you said , he shook his head. “that’s right , only perverts do.” he was about to blow his load. “y-yn pl-please let me put it in , wa-wanna feel you.” he begged , you loved it , he was so willing to do anything to cum. “i don’t really think you deserve it , i think you don’t deserve to cum for the rest of the week.” you began to stand up.

no , he couldn’t go that long he was sure , he jerked off almost everyday, he knew this would kill him. “please let me put it in , please i’ll be a good boy i promise.” he said. “i wont cum with out your permission ever again. , please , i’ll do whatev– oh fuck!” he gasped as you sunk down on him. “oh fuck , fuck fuck!” he moaned as he felt the warmth of your cunt. “jakey you’re so big.” you began to move , his head was thrown back , eyes crossed almost as you rode him. “that’s it jakey , you like it?” he nodded. “so-so much , please go faster.”

you grabbed his cheeks forcing him to look at you. “you wanna kiss?” he nodded. “please.” you kissed his lips , bouncing on his cock. he was in heaving right now , if he could feel this for the rest of his life — or at least for the next two minutes, then he could die a happy man. “y-yn im gonna cum again.” he said , looking up at you with wide , tear filled eyes. “can i cum? please can i cum?” he moaned , you kissed his forehead , tugging at the nape of his neck. “good boy for asking , you can cum.”

his hips involuntarily shook as he bucked up into you cumming hard. “fuck.” he wrapped his arms around your waist , as he pumped what felt like the largest load he ever gave. “jakey.” you moaned , he slightly bit down on your shoulder. “can i keep going?” he nodded , he was willing to push forward even though his cock was sore. “ye-yes you can.” you began to speed up. “oh fuck , jakey yes!” you squealed , the boy below you moaning loudly as he felt overwhelmed by your cunt. “fuck im gonna cum.” you moaned , he brought his lips to your nipples , sucking harshly on them. “ah yes!” you tugged his hair. “im cumming.”

he felt you cumming , and he thought he was gonna get hard again. “did you cum?” you nodded. “it felt so good.” you praised , scratching his neck gently. “you’re such a good boy jakey , such a good boy.”

he woke up later from his nap later that night ; tired and hungry, you had really did a number on him. he stumbled his way to the kitchen opening the fridge. “fun evening?” heeseung stood in the hallway. “fuck off , you set me up.” he took the cookie off the plate. “I’m starving.” he said. “im sure , you want some ramen?” he nodded. “and i didn’t set you up , i knew she wouldn’t mind it?”

“how do know?” he said. “because she’s fucking obsessed with you bro.” heeseung said. “he’s right.” they both turned to where you were standing in his shirt. “you’re just haven’t been paying attention.” you said , sitting in his lap, his eyes widened. “too busy watching porn that looks like her.” heeseung waited for the water to boil. “but that’s okay , that means you can make it up to me right?” you smirked feeling him get hard again. “ye-yeah.” you stood up. “good boy.” you made your way back to his room. “oh that was gross.” heeseung gagged , but jake didn’t care. “just leave the ramen out on the stove.” he followed behind you. “please keep it down I have homework.”

“there you are.” you waited on his bed. “come here.” you moved your pointer finger; he moved towards you. “good boy.” he crawled on to the bed , your legs spreading for him to sit in the middle. “what do you want?” you asked. “to-to taste you , i really want to taste you.” he could almost taste it on his tongue. “go a head.” you pushed his head down , where you were already bare and ready for him. “you know what to do.” you moaned feeling him lick your clit. “oh fuck.”

“such a good boy.”

©️LUVYENI

[starryjake]

truth or dare | s.j

in which your best friend, jake, finds out you want him and makes your fantasy come true.

pairing: jake x fem!reader

includes: f receiving oral sex, munch jake obviously, you touch his dick over the pants lol, stripping (lmk if i missed anything).

it was an accident, jake swore. not only was it an accident but it was partly your fault for leaving your laptop wide open for anyone to see.

you were in the bathroom and your laptop was pinging and pinging and pinging nonstop with text messages. jake was laying on your bed, his eyes glued to the tv, but he was beginning to lose focus from how often your computer was pinging.

finally, he couldn’t stand the sound anymore and grabbed your laptop from the edge of your bed. all he was going to do was turn it off and be done with it, but on the screen, he something that caught his eye.

your text messages were open and he saw his name so he just had to look, to know why you were talking about him with your friend.

his eyes widened when he saw why he was mentioned in your texts.

messages coming from you that started with fairly tame things like: “jake looks so good today,” “jake’s cologne is making me go crazy.”

but the more he scrolled, the more texts he found that were just purely vulgar, absolute filth like: “NEED him to eat me out till im crying,” and “bet he moans so pretty,” and even, “need his dick all the way down my throat asap.”

jake almost thought he was being pranked. he simply could not wrap his around the fact that you—his best friend of nearly five years—wanted him.

quite honestly, jake kind of thought that the two of you strictly had a sibling-like-friendship. you always teased him and fought with him like he was an older brother, and he always protected you and teased you back like you were his little sister.

but you wanted him. if those texts were anything to go off of, then you certainly did not see him as a brother.

suddenly, the bathroom door opened. jake practically threw your laptop back to the end of the bed and laid back against your pillows like he wasn’t doing anything.

you walked into the room and sat down next to him with a sigh.

“alright, did you pick a movie?” you asked.

jake wasn’t paying attention to a word you said. all he could focus on was how far you were sitting from him on your bed. how was he ever supposed to find out you liked him if you wouldn’t even go near him?

“jake,” you said, pushing his arm to get his attention.

“huh?” he said. “no, i haven’t picked yet.”

“jeez, what have you even been doing in here the whole time?” you wondered, taking the remote from him to choose a movie yourself.

you would definitely not want to know what he was doing just minutes before you came in the room.

-

jake didn’t focus during the movie. he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried.

how could he watch a movie when you were right there next to him, probably thinking about him and all the dirty things you wanted to do with him.

it was driving jake crazy. this new piece of information, this secret you’ve been carrying for god knows how long, jake had it now and did not know what to do with it.

“this movie is kinda boring,” he finally spoke.

“seriously? it’s nominated for like four oscar’s,” you responded.

“let’s do something else,” jake suggested.

huffing, you sat up slightly and turned off the movie. you then looked over at jake.

“what do you wanna do?” you asked.

jake shifted his body to face you instead of the tv. you tried to calm your thoughts, your thoughts that were far from pg, but he looked amazing. his black hair was slightly more grown out that normal and messy against your pillow. he was in a sweatshirt and sweatpants which is how you liked him best, in comfy clothes.

“we could play a game or something,” he suggested.

“what game?” you wondered.

“i don’t know,” he shrugged. “like, truth or dare or something.”

you snorted. “really?”

“c’mon,” he pouted.

by just looking at his face and that sweet little pout he gave, a flip practically switched in you and suddenly you would do just about anything he asked.

“okay,” you gave in. “truth or dare?”

jake pondered for a moment. he wanted to steer the game in a direction that would get you to admit your feelings for him. he needed to hear it from your mouth because he was still having a hard time believing those text messages.

“truth,” jake replied.

“okay,” you thought for a second. “if you had to hook up with one of your guy friends, who would you pick?”

“god, you’re the worst at asking questions,” jake groaned. “but sunghoon, obviously.”

“figured,” you replied. “your turn.”

“truth or dare?” he asked you.

considering you were comfy where you were laying in your bed, you didn’t want to pick dare in case he dared you to do something that required getting up.

“truth,” you said.

“if you had to hook up with one of the guys, who would you pick?” he asked.

you pondered. obviously you knew who you would choose but you couldn’t tell him that.

“i don’t know,” you lied. “probably heeseung.”

“yeah right,” jake scoffed.

“what?” you frowned. “he’s hot.”

jake could feel himself getting frustrated.

“your turn,” he said.

“truth or dare?”

“dare,” he answered.

“i dare you to show me the last picture in your camera roll,” you said.

you didn’t think much of it, but out of all the dares you could’ve given him, jake would’ve chosen anything else. he knew what the last picture in his camera roll was.

“actually, i pick truth,” he said.

“you can’t do that!” you exclaimed. “now you really have to show me.”

“i don’t think you wanna see it,” he tried to warn.

“what, is it a dick pic or something?” you joked. you joked. but then you saw jake’s face and his lack of words and knew that it really was a picture of his dick. “what the fuck, jake?”

“it’s not a full one,” he reasoned. “it’s just like…my bulge in a pair of sweatpants.”

yeah, you wanted to see it really bad. but you didn’t want him to know that. you didn’t need him to know that you were already getting wet at the mere thought of seeing that kind of picture of your best friend.

“well…” you trailed off, not knowing what to say. “a dare is a dare.”

jake tried not to smirk. he knew it, knew you wanted to see it.

he pulled out his phone and opened the picture. it was a mirror picture. he was shirtless in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, not even wearing underwear underneath. his outline was very clear since he was hard when he took the picture.

slightly nervous, jake handed you his phone. you took it, looking at the picture. it was even better than you imagined.

he didn’t miss the way you gulped and the way you instinctively zoomed in on the picture to get an even better look.

but you didn’t say anything. you didn’t tell him he looked good or anything. you just nodded and handed him his phone back.

“ok, your turn,” you said.

“what?” jake frowned. “you don’t have anything to say?”

“why would i have anything to say?” you wondered.

“because i just showed you a picture of…well, that,” he said. “you have nothing to say about it?”

“no,” you laughed. “gross.”

you were being so hard to get, it was actually driving him crazy. he knew you wanted him so why were you being so difficult about it?

“fine,” he scoffed. “truth or dare?”

“dare,” you said, hoping he’ll take it easy on you and not make you get up.

“take off your shirt.”

you immediately gave him a glare.

“dude, what?” you said.

“a dare is a dare,” he replied, repeating your words from a few minutes ago.

“why would i take off my shirt?” you asked.

“because i’m telling you to,” he responded, his eyes darkening.

the way he said it suddenly made you really want to take it off, wanting to obey any command he gave you.

you sat up a bit and started pulling your sweater over your head. all you had on underneath was a thin, light pink bra. your nipples were visibly hard beneath it and jake was already twitching in his pants at the sight.

once your shirt was off, you looked at him expectantly. his eyes flickered down to your chest and back up to your face.

he hummed in satisfaction.

“cute,” he said quietly.

it wasn’t much but the word went straight to your face, turning your cheeks red. oddly, you didn’t feel like covering yourself up. in fact, you would show more of yourself if you knew jake was going to compliment you.

“okay,” you whispered. “truth or dare.”

“dare,” he picked again.

“i dare you the same thing,” you said.

he was hoping you would.

smirking, he pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor.

now, you were really starting to get nervous. you had no idea what was going on but you and jake were shirtless in your bed. you liked the feeling though, and you wanted more.

you stared at his bare chest and abdomen, the slight trace of abs making you squeeze your thighs together.

“like what you see?” he chuckled at you checking him out shamelessly. “wanna feel?”

“shut up,” you muttered, turning your head that other way.

“no, really,” jake said. “feel it.”

he suddenly grabbed your hand and placed it against his warm naked abdomen. he guided your hand up and down his chest so you could feel every part, every indent of his body.

he could tell he was finally getting to you. you were submitting to him, losing your uninterested demeanor and he was damn glad about it. he needed to uncover the you that wanted him desperately.

“mmm,” he hummed, basically moaning just from your hand rubbing his body.

he was bold when he very gently and slowly dragged your hand down even further until it was brushing over his waistband and to the front of his sweatpants, right where his growing cock was.

you looked up at his face in shock, but his eyes were closed. he was biting his bottom lip, fully engrossed in this and the feeling of your hand pressed flat on his covered cock.

he kept your hand there, not even making you move it or grip his erection, but just having you feel it. it was entirely hard and just having your hand on it, you could feel it pulsate.

weakly, you began to wrap your fingers around the outline, but he squeezed your wrist and pulled your hand off of him before you could.

his eyes opened and when you looked at each other, he just smirked.

“truth or dare?”

he asked it so calm and casually like your hand wasn’t just on his dick. you didn’t even quite know what to say, unsure how you were supposed to go about playing the game after that.

“uh, t-truth?” you sputtered out, purely confused about what was going on.

“how long have you wanted to do that?” he asked.

your heart seemed to stop beating for a moment.

“what?” you asked.

“how long have you wanted to touch my cock?” he wondered. “how long have you wanted me?”

“who said i want you?” you ask, eyebrows furrowing.

obviously you did want him, but you didn’t know how he knew that.

“i saw the texts,” he told you. he could still tell you were confused so he added, “the texts with you and your friend, talking about how badly you wanted me. god, the things you were saying were just filthy, y/n. i had no idea you felt that way.”

your heart sunk. suddenly, you didn’t want to do any of this anymore. you were utterly humiliated that jake found out you liked him and even more so by how he found out.

“jake, i-i—” you sputtered. “please. i don’t—”

you couldn’t figure out what to say.

“so?” he said. “how long?”

you bowed your head in shame.

“a long time,” you mumbled. “‘m sorry.”

jake tilted your head back up by your chin, smiling softly at your blushing face. you were so cute when you were embarrassed, he was almost doing all this on purpose.

“why are you sorry?” he asked. “i never said i didn’t feel the same, did i?”

this could not be good for your heart. all this slowing of your heart race only for it to pick back up again so quickly. but now you were filled with hope and excitement.

“really?” you asked eagerly, pathetically almost.

“c’mon, let’s keep playing,” he said.

“truth or dare,” you said.

“truth,” he replied.

“what did you think when you saw those texts?” you wondered sheepishly.

he chuckled a bit.

“i guess i was thinking about how i didn’t realize my best friend was so horny for me,” he said, his voice deep and sexy. you squirmed, your body unbearably hot. “now, truth or dare?”

you were nervous to pick dare to see what he would make you do next, but more than nervous, you were excited. so, you did it.

“dare.”

jake knew what he was going to dare you was bold, but he was hard as a rock in his pants and needed you now.

“i dare you to let me eat you out.”

he expected some kind of shock and disgust from you, but that was not the response you gave him.

ever since you’ve known him, you’ve wanted him between your thighs. so now that he was actually offering, why would you reject that?

“okay,” you whispered, still nervous despite wanting it.

he watched in surprise as you lifted your hips up and pulled both your pants and underwear down at once. you looked over at him, waiting for him to follow through with your dare.

“fuck,” he muttered, still in shock that you were suddenly naked right next to him. “didn’t know you wanted me that bad.”

you couldn’t argue. you did want him that bad.

he got up and positioned himself between your legs, face to face with your pussy. he held your thighs while he stared at it, in awe that it was really right there in front of him, his to devour.

“it’s so pretty,” he said, leaning in to place a kiss on your clit. “never knew my best friend had such a pretty little pussy.”

his words sent heat all over your body. you were embarrassed but more than that, you were just so unbelievably turned on. jake looked so good between your legs and you knew he’d look even better once he was actually eating you out.

“please,” you urged, jutting your hips up impatiently.

jake finally licked a stripe up your slit, starting from the bottom all the way up to the top. he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked on the sensitive bundle of nerves, moaning at the taste in his mouth.

“fuckkk,” you moaned out, head falling back against your pillows.

he alternated between sucking and licking your clit, using the tip of his tongue to rub it in little circles and watching the way it moved up and down and to the side. he was eventually just making out with it, eyes closed in concentration and pleasure.

after a moment, he pulled back, a string of saliva keeping his lips attached to your glistening pearl. he then leaned back in and starting licking up and down your pussy in firm, fluid strokes, gathering all of your arousal on his tongue and swallowing it.

you dug your fingers into his hair, tugging on the thick strands which only fueled jake even more. he moaned against your cunt, eyes rolling slightly from getting his hair played with and pulled.

“you’re so fucking hot,” he said, his breath warm on your pussy. “such a good pussy too. fuck, i want it all over my face.”

he dived back in, pushing his face into your pussy as much as he could. his nose rubbed against your puffy clit as his tongue delved inside your hole. he pushed it in as deep as it could possibly go, feeling your warm plushy walls around him.

“fuck, jake!” you yelled.

he sucked on your folds and back on your clit, suddenly intoxicated by the delicious taste of your pussy. it was just so hot, so sweet and tight and perfect. he truly could not get enough and genuinely wanted to drink your arousal.

“oh my god,” he moaned. “you have the sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted, baby. fuck, it’s so good.”

your legs shook on either side of his head. you were feeling weaker and weaker by the second, his tongue moving like lightning and filling you with sparks.

he flicked the tip of his tongue up and down your slit, tilting his head to the side and resting it on your quivering thigh. the wet sound of his tongue flicking up and down your folds was driving you to the edge.

you couldn’t even warm him that it was about to happen. it just happened.

“mmm, i’m cumming,” you slurred, so drunk on the feeling that you could hardly speak.

you gripped his hair extra tight, pushing your hips up into his face. he ate your perfect cunt and drank every last droplet of your arousal that dripped out of you.

you were dizzy and moaning loudly and carelessly as you grinded your cunt against his face, riding out your high. your pussy was so wet, drenched in your own cum and jake’s saliva.

when you were finally finished, jake sat up and collapsed next to you, his lips, nose, and chin all glistening in your arousal.

you turned your head to face him, your cheeks red. the shock of what you two had just done was kicking in.

you weren’t sure what you two were supposed to do now and where to go from there. you were best friends and best friends weren’t supposed to do what you’d just done.

“wanna finish that movie?” jake asked casually, as though he wasn’t just tongue deep in your cunt.

“sure,” you agreed, as though you weren’t just cumming all over his face.

he wrapped his arm around you and played the movie again, the two of you laying there without acknowledging what happened.

-

:3 teehee munch jake :3 teehee best friend jake

thanks for reading!

[bratbby333]

gamer!bf sukuna drabble

·:*¨༺ nsfw mdni ༻¨*:·

gamer!bf sukuna who is always sat at his desk, shooting at something

gamer!bf sukuna who will lose track of time and play for hoursss, not even acknowledging your existence until you interrupt his game play with dinner

gamer!bf sukuna who buys you your own gaming set up after catching you playing on his computer when you think he isn't home (he positions your new monitor and gaming chair right next to his)

gamer!bf sukuna who laughs in your face when you ask if he wants to play minecraft with you (how dare you recommend something that isn't violent? silly little thing. do you even know him?)

"so childish... why the fuck would i play that?"

gamer!bf sukuna who feels bad after you pout at him for making fun of you, reluctantly agreeing to play fortnite (the tamest game he'll play)

gamer!bf sukuna who is never not yelling at someone through his headset

"you stupid fuck! ask your mother how my dick tastes"

gamer!bf sukuna who loves when you pull up a chair to watch him play

gamer!bf sukuna who let's you sit in his lap, the controller in your hands with his hands over yours, pushing the buttons for you... the elated grin on your face when you finally kill someone makes his dick hard

"baby! i did it! i got him!" "that's my good girl, now let me reward you"

gamer!bf sukuna who loves that you play animal crossing at your desk next to him while he plays cs:go and valorant, you eventually put on your noise canceling headphones because he won't stop screaming

"what the actual FUCK was that? you're trash. GET OUT OF MY LOBBY"

gamer!bf sukuna who finally agrees to play minecraft with you after weeks of begging, enjoying it more than he thought he would (the face you make when he finally says yes causes his heart flutter just a little bit... but he'll never tell you that, constantly groaning at how boring it is, but playing it with you for three hours)

he runs around killing creepers and skeletons to quell his homicidal ideations instead of helping you build a house "why the hell would we build a fake house when we're literally sitting in our real one?" so fucking sassy for no reason he'd run around collecting a mob of enemies instead, luring them into a pit before sealing it off and dumping a bucket of lava on them, laughing as they slowly burn to death...bro is insane i stg...

gamer!bf sukuna who let's you wear his headset while he plays a 1v1 in a custom lobby, laughing at his opponents obvious anger and frustration thinking they're losing to you (COD is so misogynistic, and sukuna is thoroughly amused when he gets to put them in their place on your behalf)

gamer!bf sukuna who beams with pride when you start picking up on gaming terms

"that guy sucks, he's just camping", you say, brows furrowed in annoyance. "who the fuck did you learn that word from?" "who do you think i learned it from, dumbass?" you retort, a taunting smile on your lips. he just grins, "god, you're so fuckin' sexy. but drop the attitude before i fuck it outta you."

gamer!bf sukuna who attempts to teach you how to play call of duty, battlefield, and cs:go

"you'll get better, doll. just keep tryin'"

gamer!bf sukuna who refuses to admit that he actually enjoys playing minecraft with you, hoping you'll suggest to play it first

gamer!bf sukuna who looks down from his monitor to see you kneeling under his desk, head between his legs, sucking him off while he's on discord talking to his friends; tangling his hands in your hair, biting the inside of his cheek when you deepthroat him unexpectedly, his hips bucking off his chair. "you dirty fuckin' girl, it's like you want them to hear" he moans out. his friends erupt in laughter after hearing him, but he doesn't want you to stop. exhibitionist!sukuna has entered the chat

"you can stay and listen if you want, at least im gettin' some unlike you virgins"

gamer!bf sukuna who fucks you rough when he loses a game

"god you're so fuckin' tight for me" he groans, his grip tight on your hips. he looks down to watch your pretty pussy suck him in. you squirm, his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you with every trust, whining as he pushes your head into the mattress, his strokes unrelenting. "uh uh. don't move...stay right fuckin' there n take this dick, brat."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

author notes: hehehe...this was super fun to write. if you have any requests, send them here! if u wanna be added to my anon club, drop an emoji with ur submission and ill add u to my pinned post ☺︎

i've already written longer, smut-filled stories of gamer!bf sukuna,,u can read them here and here and here

thank u liking, commenting, and reblogging...it makes me kick my feet n giggle when i get the notification ♡

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[reiderwriter]

Flirting with the FBI

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word count: 7.1k

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

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

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

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

“There once was a serial killer,

Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,

He cut, diced and slashed,

Left the feds quite abashed,

So I leave this message to be clearer”

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

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

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

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

And you really wanted to listen in.

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

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

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

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

“There once was a bullpen full of agents,

Who thought they were very surveillant,

But a simply code crack,

And there system did hack,

A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”

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

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

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

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

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

“The tall, dark and handsome employee,

How I do wish that he could enjoy me,

I would gladly submit,

we match wit for wit,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,

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

the killer, you see,

Is right now hunting me,

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

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

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

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

“There once was a doctor called Reid,

Who I simply and truly just need,

I would lie on my back,

And then let him attack,

Any inch of my body with his seed.”

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

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

You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.

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

This latest limerick was his last straw.

“The cameras are how I can see you,

I do find myself enjoying the view,

His hair is so fine,

I wish he was mine,

The agent with more PhDs than two.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The agents grew closer by day,

As the killer wanted to escape,

He paced across the floor,

As I watched by his door,

Getting closer than the agents could say.”

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

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

“Officer Falstaff, why?”

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

“Spencer, wait-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,

Working with you has been like a dream,

When Reid comes it is wet,

And my mind is all set,

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

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

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

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

I can't help simply feeling this way,

Your profile I read,

Can't believe you're a Fed,

I yearn for you all night and day.”

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

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

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

“The Doctor had finally cracked it,

The only identity that could fit,

The pretty young thing,

Who'd been flirting with him,

And was thinking of sitting on his…”

You sent a second message along with the first.

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

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

xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As much as anyone does.”

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

“What do you think, Doc?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.

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

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

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why, Y/N?”

You sighed and looked back up at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want to sleep with me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”

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

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

“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”

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

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

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

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

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

“No, you don't.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can we keep this serious, please?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I'm driving you home.”

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

“What about friends?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Spencer!”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And let you touch my things? No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What's the difference?”

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

"And what would that be?"

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

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

“Brat,” he spat at you.

“Fed,” you spat back.

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

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

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

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

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

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

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

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

“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, Spencer-”

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

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

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

“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Say it.”

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

“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who I simply and truly just need.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day one.

Muscles (821 words)

summary: You couldn't help but be distracted by your boyfriend's muscles, so you had to do something about it.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI

Lando’s streaming room was mostly silent; only Lando’s little chuckles could be heard from time to time as he texted Max F. to join his stream since he didn’t have anything better to do. 

You, on the other hand, were busy holding a book as you buried your face in it. You had an important test coming up, so you had been studying as much as your brain allowed you to, but unfortunately, you had gotten to the point where you were only getting frustrated.

You heard Lando whisper a little ‘okay’ as he started to turn on his computer, holding his phone as he waited. You loved to see him play with his friends; you really did, especially when they were sim racing, because not only did he love it so much, but he always seemed so focused on what he was doing that everything around him seemed to disappear. 

As he put his phone down and started opening everything to join Max, you admired him for a moment, and what started as an endearing look quickly turned into something different. He was wearing a grey tank-top that allowed his tan muscles to be free, and with each movement they flexed in a way you never noticed before. I mean of course you had, but the only fresh thing on your mind was your test, so this felt somewhat new. Your eyes flickered between his hands and his muscles, but suddenly, you remembered your test again.

Your eyes went back to the page filled with words you were supposed to understand, focusing especially on the highlighted bits that you were now not even sure why they were ever important, but you reminded yourself that was exactly why you needed to study, but there was no way you could bring your full attention back to it. You looked back at Lando and admired him for a little longer, a warm feeling suddenly invading your body.

“Lando?” You whispered, but he didn’t hear you with his headsets already on. “Lando,” you repeated louder, causing him to take them off and look at you. 

He smiled at you as he met your eyes. “Yeah?”

“Are you busy?” You already knew what he was gonna say but wanted to give it a shot anyway.

“A little.” Lando turned back to his loading game and then back at you. “Why? Do you need anything?”

You nodded and slowly stood up from your seat, leaving your book behind. “You”

Lando’s eyes widened and a sudden neediness appeared on his system. “But I’m-” he started, but drifted off when you got a little too close to him.

“Mhm?” You turned his chair to make him face you and stood between his legs, making him open them to make enough space for you. “Are you busy?” You repeated.

He took one last look at his screen, and shook his head as he turned back to face you. "No.” 

A victorious smile appeared on your face as you sat on his lap. His body was completely pressed to the back of the chair, and he was running his hands up and down your thighs as you started to share wet and needy kisses. It was too much too quick, and you couldn’t help yourself from constantly squeezing his muscles.

That’s when it clicked for Lando, so he purposefully flexed them as his arms went around your body, causing an involuntary moan to leave your lips. He wanted to tease you for a little while, so he started to kiss your neck and kept flexing his muscles as much as he could.

“I wanna take off your shirt,” you mumbled. 

“Mhm. Why? So you can keep gripping at my muscles?”

This made you immediately blush, but at this point, you didn’t care; that’s exactly what you wanted anyway. "Yes,” you managed to reply. 

He took off his shirt and tossed it somewhere in the room, yours following shortly after. Slowly you completely undressed each other, and Lando was blindly looking for a condom on his desk. 

He finally found one and quickly pushed you away a little bit to put it on. A moan of relief escaped your mouths when you sank down on his needy length. The repeated motions got more desperate and rough with time, the position making it a little easier for Lando to guide your hips.

You were repeatedly squeezing him around, from his biceps to the strong muscles on his back, and he could already tell you would be leaving marks everywhere, and he couldn’t wait to see them. Eventually, your hands moved to his shoulders, using them to stabilise yourself as you both got closer.

Lando came first, the puffs of air leaving his mouth as he tried to breathe properly as his shaky legs kept thrusting into you, the sounds of his pretty moans making your body finally give in and join him.

↺ back to navigation — Kinktober masterlist

[clockwayswrites]

A Bird's Wings - Part 30

masterpost this is a first draft, please no editing or concrit <3

Danny’s first thought when he woke up in the morning was how rested he was.

It was almost shocking.

He’d been so exhausted for for the past few weeks that to feel rested was a relief that almost made him cry.

Danny’s second thought was about his wings, which he still seemed to have. That was a pretty quick revelation caused by the fact that he was asleep on his stomach. The wings pulled at the sheets as he stretched lazily. At least they hurt less than yesterday at least. He was careful as he sat up, a cumbersome affair with the wings. It basically resulted in Danny getting his legs off the side of the large bed and simply standing up backwards, but at least it did result in him standing.

Grateful for Alfred’s thoroughness, Danny brushed his teeth before taking an awkward shower. He kept to the shower wand only and tried to keep as much water off his wings as possible. Despite the care, he still felt (and looked) like a rain ruffled bird after he had dressed in the modified sweater and a pair of his normal pants. He did what he could to at least tame his hair, swallowed his morning medication, and left the sanctuary of his borrowed room.

“Master Danny, impeccable timing,” Alfred said when Danny came across him in what Danny thought was the foyer. “Breakfast will be served in half an hour in the kitchen. Would you like some coffee or tea to start your day?”

“Coffee would be great, if it’s not any trouble,” Danny said with a bashful smile. He still wasn’t quite sure how to handle Alfred’s uncanny ability to show up and offer his service.

“A standard request of coffee is hardly trouble,” Alfred said in such a way that Danny felt bad for trying to be polite.

He didn’t think that his Midwest manners were going to get him very far in this house. Manor.

Still trying to puzzle out how his life got him into things like this, Danny followed Alfred to the kitchen. Bruce was already there, looking still half a sleep as he sipped on his own mug of coffee. For the moment, the table was children free.

“Cream or sugar?” Alfred ask as he headed towards the counter.

“Cream please,” Danny said. He turned to Bruce and gave a little smile. “Morning, Bruce.”

“Good morning, Danny,” Bruce said, his voice a low, sleepy rumble. (Danny did his best to fight the blush that the tone caused.) “Would you like some help drying off your wings?”

So much for not blushing. “Ah, yeah. That would be really nice. I tried to do what I could, but…”

Bruce chuckled softly. “Completely understandable. It’s a very awkward angle to try and manage.” He set down his mug and stood. “Fortunately for you, Damian is quite the animal buff and I was sent some very extensive articles on caring for wings.”

“Oh gods,” Danny said. The words were muffled by the way he buried his burning face into his hands.

“Damian simply wants the best for you,” Bruce pointed out.

“Sure, but still,” Danny said. He rubbed at his face as he let himself lean his head back and stare up at the ceiling for a moment, “I’m not a pet.”

Danny saw Bruce come over out the corner of his eye, towel in hand, and rolled his head a little to glance at him. He thought it was progress that he didn’t flinch when Bruce reached out, clearly telegraphing his motion, to run a hand over Danny’s wing.

“No one thinks that you’re a pet, Danny,” Bruce said with so much sincerity in his eyes that Danny had to look away. “Knowing how to take care of your wings is the same as making sure that Damian has easy access to vegetarian meals or that the computers at the manor have a dyslexic friendly font installed for Dick or that Barbara can easily get around in her wheelchair. Your wings, even if only sometimes, are part of you. And for better or worse, my family and I seem rather intent to see you well.”

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck as he glanced back at Bruce. “Part of it may be that I’m not exactly used to that sort of attention. I mean, Lucius tries to make me take care of myself, as well as some coworkers, but in Gotham that sort of feels more like new rogue prevention,” Danny joked.

Luckily Bruce chuckled at that. “I am sorry that we’re so overwhelming.”

“No, don’t be. It’s… excuse the bird analogy, but it’s just a very full nest, isn’t it? It feels cozy. It’s just something different to try and wrap my head around,” Danny explained. “And I won’t pretend that I don’t still have issues, as much as it’s something that I’ve worked really hard on personally and in therapy, dying at fourteen leaves a person with some issues.”

Not to mention being a super hero, staying half dead, dying a second time, and all of the other things that went on during his high school years.

“Yes, I would imagine so,” Bruce said after a pause. His voice was soft and sad.

“Bruce—”

“Sorry,” Bruce said. “When Jason was fifteen, we thought he had died. He ended up out of reach and with extensive brain trauma and memory loss. I know how much it effected him. I’m sorry you had to go through something at that age also.”

Danny squeezed one of Bruce’s hands where it was clasped tightly around a towel. “He’s here now. He’s alive and he seems happy. He has a boyfriend and everything. I’m not saying it doesn’t still pull at him, but it hasn’t dragged him to the bottom. At least not anymore.”

Bruce smile was a somber, soft thing. “Thank you. And you’re here too.”

Danny blinked at that. Bruce wasn’t wrong. He didn’t know almost any of the story, but he wasn’t wrong. Wings and all, Danny was still alive. He smiled softly back. “Yeah, I am.”

[jeon-ify]

- 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 - 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 ! ⋆·˚ ༘ *

synopsis: in which the way you look after showering gets your husband worked up.

genre: romance, smut, 18+. mdni.

warnings: dilf yunho!!!!!! yunho is in his late 30s-early 40s here, nudity implied, kitchen sex, swearing, breast play, making out, female reader, big!dick yunho, hand kink, finger sucking (yunho AND reader!!) tit sucking, cervix fucking, choking kink, breeding kink, if i missed anything let me know ! :3

song for the chapter : into it - chase atlantic

happy reading !

the coconut and lime scent of your conditioner floods the first floor of your home, sending your husband into a faint distraction. the scent runs up his nostrils, up to his brain, and straight down his cock. the music you’re playing blares through your phone in the shower, your husband hearing it through to the second floor.

“I BEEN CATCHIN’ PLANES FOR THE FUN OF IT,”

you sing out extra loud, your husband pausing his speech to apologize for the background noise.

you took an everything shower today, so you already made dinner before showering— considering you’d be exhausted.

somehow, yunho put the pieces together, finishing dinner and making it the right way. you didn’t expect yunho to be so generous tonight— but here you are, standing over the stove and nibbling little pieces of the food while you waited for yunho to finish from a call he was wrapped up in.

you looked around the kitchen out of boredom, looking for things to do before you dived into the food. the way yunho’s shirt sat so pretty onto your body, riding up your thighs as your pink panties peak through the ends of the tee made your man so painfully distracted— holding himself back from fucking you over the piping hot stove.

yunho watched how the ends of your hair weren’t fully dried and how it dripped onto the back of your calves, dripping down your shiny legs. he also watched how your— his— tshirt rode up your legs anytime you reached up somewhere or bent to get something. his eyes did not leave your body.

you were still stood over the stovetop, taking little bites of the greens. you moan in how good the food is, a blend of paprika and garlic seasoning, along with the sweetness of the teriyaki sauce that yunho drizzled everywhere.

but even through the layers of seasonings he put into the food, your scent still broke through it all.

“yeah, sounds good. i’ll put in the CRA request like we mentioned previously, and i’ll email you the forums. just let me know when you need it. was there anything else i could assist you with today, mr. song?” the man on the computer responds and the call comes to an end.

you stare at how attractive he is when he’s working— all the business talk that made no fucking sense to you, but he understands it like his own language, and that in itself makes you weak.

“doll, what do you have on? it smells good.” he finally decides to speak after what felt like hours of him admiring from behind his computer screen.

a much older man admiring your hygiene is something you never thought you’d see, but yunho was drooling on the laptop beneath his fingertips.

“it’s your favorite lotion,” you look up at him through damp eyelashes and flushed cheeks, watching how his nostrils flare with every breath he takes.

it takes yunho everything in his body to not pick you up and throw you over the counter and pound a baby into your small belly. he’s much older than you are, but when he met you, he knew you’d be his companion.

“yu, this smells really yummy. you did a great job, baby.” you walk over to yunho on the other end of the table, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind him. he holds onto your hands and throws his head back onto your stomach, looking up at you.

“sweets, the last thing on my mind is dinner. let me taste you, little girl,” his soft and mature voice makes your legs quiver with excitement as yunho takes your hands in his, bringing your middle and ring finger to his mouth, sucking on the digits. you gasp in response, watching how desperate the middle aged man underneath your touch grows weak at your feet.

“i can never get enough of you. wanna fuck you all day.” he stands up to face you, bringing his lips to yours. he sucks and nibs at your bottom lip to gain quicker access to explore the rest of your mouth. you deepen the kiss, the faint taste of cigarettes cloud your small mouth, making you whimper in desperation. he slides a hand between your thighs, thumb rubbing against your clit. you’re not sure if your juices make a patch on your panties or if its from your shower. nonetheless, you are so fucking turned on right now that the last thing on your mind is dinner.

“what have you done to me, pretty girl?” he feels as though you’ve casted a spell on him. everything you do makes him feral; weak in the knees. but somehow, you make him a man.

“i’m just here, yunho. don’t give me all the credit,” you gasp at the feeling of his long fingers pushing into your tight wet cunt. he gasps in sarcasm, exploring your face as he uses your cunt to soak his fingers— bringing them up to your mouth.

you feel his fingers curl into a ‘come here’ motion, your breath hitching as he pushes against your walls. your eyes roll, grasping his forearm as he speeds up his motions. you cry out and beg for him to slow down, but he doesn’t listen.

“so pretty. look at these lips, let me kiss them.” he brings his lips to yours in an open mouthed makeout, gasping for air as he pulls away with a deep-dimpled smirk. your pussy convulses around his long fingers, as your husband groans in response.

your thighs clamp shut in an attempt to calm yourself down from how aggressively his fingers ruthlessly ravish your cunt. yunho, reaching your cervix from how long his fingers are, takes in a deep breath at how fast he’s been moving. “yu- ohh— fuck! please— i’m cumming, please i’m gonna cum!” you chant begs along with his name as if it were a mantra, feeling the way his hard cock presses into your backside.

“yeah, feels good, doesn’t it, baby? now let me feel you cum on my cock.” he brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking himself dry of your juices. you whimper in need of him inside of you. he lines himself up with your entrance as you’re bent over the counter across from the stove.

he pushes into your soaked pussy deeper, feeling his dick throb ruthlessly inside of you already. lucky for him, he was able to hold himself for almost half an hour on end while he fucks you.

“s-sir, it’s so big! i don’t think i can take y-“ you pull away from his length, feeling like you’re being ripped in half by what feels like 12 inches. he runs his hand along your back from underneath the t-shirt, in an attempt to calm you down and keep you around him.

“tiny girl, you can take me. you’ve let me fuck my cum into you hundreds of times. what’s changed, dollface?” he almost makes you cum from his voice in itself, but you decide to push back while he stays still, waiting for you to adjust to his size for what feels like the millionth time throughout your relationship.

he begins pounding into you at a quicker pace, pulling and tugging at your bare nipples from underneath you. your mouth hangs open as yunho brings his large hand to your throat to wrap itself around it. you grit through your teeth, wishing you could just cum.

you don’t feel like you want to cum, you feel like you’re going to squirt all over his body. “talk to me, baby. what’s it feel like?”

he’s being so fucking annoying and making you focus on anything else other than your orgasm, but you only moan and cry in response.

“i— ‘s too much.” whimpering and shaking in a headlock, you grasp onto yunho’s arm to get a breath of air. from the way his muscular arm wraps itself around your throat makes you cum over, and over already.

yunho gets another quick scent of your lotion and conditioner, making his cock twitch in your cervix.

“i’m almost done baby, give me another one— fuck, you smell so good. the fuck are you doing to me, baby?”

he pounds into you again, harder this time— tugging at your panties to pull you back onto his hips, planting himself deeper in you.

“nngh, oh my god!”

“oh, but i’m the one making you cry like this. give it to me, fucking milk me dry. gonna spill all my cum into your tiny stomach. let me give you my babies, hm? how’s that sound?”

he bends over so his chest is against your back as he nips at your ear. his tongue licks up your tears, planting a kiss on the end of your right eyebrow. his thrusts slow down as he holds you in place to shoot his load right into your baby maker.

“oh my— fuck! yes, so good!”

you cry out in relief that you finally got to spill out your cum onto yunho’s still cock. he lands a sharp slap on your ass before pulling you back up and planting a kiss on your forehead.

“so pretty when you cry for me. should keep a picture in my wallet.”

yunho gets down on his knees before you, licking up your thighs where your juices dried. your fingers run through his pretty softly gelled black hair.

he licks up all of your juices near your heat, using his fingers to push back the cum that threatens to drip from your pussy. your eyes roll to the back of your head as yunho places a kiss on your lower stomach, traveling up beneath your shirt to suck a generous amount of skin on your tit.

“yun— you’re sucking too hard, fuck!” he sucks and bites your nipples as if you were his lifeline,

he slaps the area he sucked on, making you gasp out in surprise. “keep my cum in you until after dinner, i’ll fuck more into you.”

so you sat at the other end of the table with your thighs clenching and unable to think about anything other than your husband pounding a shit ton of babies into you.

————————

🌷🤍🎀

well? dilfyunho anyone?????

[kisses4reid]

protect | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you get badly injured on a case, and the hospital visit ruins your surprise.

genre - fem!bau!reader x spencer, hurt/comfort, little bit of angst and arguing, fluff, happy ending!! reader can bear children (has female anatomy)

warnings - pregnancy, major injuries, mentions of gross hospital things, r uses she/her pronouns, usual criminal minds violences

w/c - 2.2k

a/n - thank u for the request! loved the idea immediately and this is the first time i’m writing abt pregnancy and stuff so pls do not quote me on anything!!! also this writing isn’t my best, sorry abt that. okay bye have fun reading

request - (@ursuu-la) hihihi idk if you're taking requests, but what if u write something where Spencer and a fem reader are dating and she's pregnant, but she's kinda scared(? or nervous to tell Spencer. And maybe she could tell it to one of the girls of the team to find a way of approaching Reid, but then she gets hurt or something happens to her in a case.

“Oh. My. God.”

You turned your attention from the open manila folder to Garcia’s multiple screens, searching each one for something important, “What?”

“Y/n M/n Reid. You’re pregnant?” Garcia spun in her chair with an angry expression while pointing a ringed finger at the main computer screen. It was your medical history - which you allowed her to search so she could experiment with a new hacking technique - but you had forgotten about your recent discovery.

Your hand was clamped over your mouth as you stared in shock and started rambling through your fingers, “Garcia. I swear, nobody knows - I wasn’t keeping this from just you,” you placed your hands on her shoulders when she stood up in disappointment, sending her office chair to collide with the desk, “Spencer doesn’t even know, please Garcia. Don’t tell anyone.”

Your eyes searched hers for a promise or compromise, but instead you got welling tears.

“Garcia?”

“Y/n, your pregnant with a little Reid! This is amazing- How come you haven’t told him? I’ll have a new little nephew or niece! Y/n!” She squealed and took your hands to spin you in a circle in her small office. You immediately felt nauseous and slowed the excited girl, her hair accessories threatening to fall off in her happiness. You held your stomach and whispered,

“No spinning, I’ll throw up.”

She glanced to her computer screens and shut them down immediately, sitting back down and taking a deep breath. “This is great! Right? Please tell me this is great, you’re already 6 weeks pregnant.”

You bit your lip and nodded, “I mean, I think it’s great but..” You lost yourself in thought.

Last year when you and Spencer got married, you had talked about starting a family many times. But every time you both agreed to wait a few more years in order to save up more money and maybe move into a bigger apartment or even a house. This was not what you planned.

Spencer liked having a plan, it was one thing you grew to love. He was organised and, due to his amazing memory, remembered everything, especially everything about you. And though you two had grown so close you were basically one person, this was the only time you had no idea how Spencer would react if he found out your secret.

“I don’t know how to tell Spencer.”

Garcia grinned, but it was quickly wiped away when she noticed a certain figure in the doorway. You spun on your heel, heart attacking your ribs. Luckily, it was not your husband, but your boss. He stood sternly and started, “We’ve got a case, wheels up in 30.”

You nodded and turned back to Garcia, all she did was wave and whisper, “I’ll text you.”

In the plane, you sat next to Spencer in the aisle seat, stomach feeling queasy and phone vibrating non-stop in your back pocket. You pinched the bone between your eyebrows and squinted at the case files that Hotch had quickly gone over. Morgan was spilling some theories, Prentiss backing him up, when Spencer lowered his head and whispered in your ear, “Are you okay? You seem tired.”

You put on a small smile and nodded, the fact that Spencer had noticed something wrong meant that the rest of the team would notice soon too. You raised yourself and squeezed Spencer’s hand that had been in your lap. You murmured a small excuse me to Hotch and excused yourself to the plane’s toilet.

Spencer began to get worried for your health. The past week and a half, you’d been eating less and then more, and then you’d say you felt sick, and then you were full of energy. You cancelled plans, you slept more, and you had started avoiding Spencer. You were getting sick, and distant, and he hated how you wouldn’t let him help you whenever he asked. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head slightly, attempting to focus on the profile.

Sat on the toilet, ready to double over into the bathroom sink, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through Garcias texts.

What about a baby onesie with Daddy’s favourite child on it?

What about a candle lit dinner?

What about donuts that spell out ‘I’m Pregnant!’

I’ve seen people purposefully burn bread and wait until their husbands understand, maybe that?

Maybe. But right now, that was not what you wanted to think about. On top of the case and the whole pregnancy situation, your symptoms were becoming harder to conceal.

A whole day of analysis, interrogating, leads and dead ends led you to a one story run down house with broken windows and an overgrown yard. You threw the FBI bullet vest over your shoulders as Spencer approached you with a tight smile. His hair was shorter these days, after he finally let you start cutting it, but nothing could change his attractiveness. His cologne wafted into your senses as he went behind you, tightening your vest and patting your back and waist down to make sure you were at optimal safety.

You could almost imagine he knew you were pregnant.

“Remember, if he’s in there, keep your distance. He’s a big guy but silent, and not all there.” He furrowed his eyebrows as he did a last check over of your vest, belt, and the position of your gun. You smiled and nodded,

“I know, Spence. I’ve been here too.”

He sighed and nodded, placing a small kiss on your cheek as a good luck.

You were married, but there was no guarantee you’d both make it out of any case. Every movement could be your last, and every interaction could be your last together.

Morgan slipped through the door after a man picked the front doors lock, Prentiss behind him and you behind her. After you, followed Hotch and Spencer.

“Clear!” Morgan called from the kitchen. You turned right down a hallway, Prentiss disappearing into a small room on the right and yelling,

“Clear!”

You entered the small bedroom, gun high and steps careful. It was an adults bedroom, maybe a teenager. There was posters of horror movies, a thin mattress on the floor and shelves of books and wooden cupboard holding what you believed to be clothes.

“Clea-“

The wind got knocked out of you, your shoulder colliding with the wall to your left and a sharp handle being jabbed into your side, as you plummeted against the floor and hearing a loud thump and shattering glass beside you. Miniscule, rainbow, dots clouded your vision, the adrenaline and the concussion you were sure you had numbing the pain coursing through your veins. You screamed in pain, Hotch entering almost immediately.

You lifted your right arm to point out the window, the glass shattered from where the unsub had escaped.

Spencer entered the room in a rush, eyes running over the fallen cupboard that would've been taller than the both of you, and then your small body in the corner. You held out your arm for him, and he placed his hands under your armpits, jolting back when you screeched in pain. "Y/n, your..." His eyes widened in shock and fear at the sight of your dislocated shoulder. Your right hand clutched to your left side - no doubt trying to comfort a massive bruise or worse.

He gulped, helping you up and throwing your good arm around his shoulders. The sudden movements blanked your vision for a few moments, a small lump forming on the front left side of your temple, and your legs trembled in the sudden need to hold yourself up. "Y/n, we just need to get you to the ambulance, alright?" Spencer told you reassuringly. He didn't know how much you could understand, your eyes were cloudy and your movements spaghetti-like, but he continued to reassure you anyways.

The paramedics set into action as soon as they saw your near limp body strung across Spencer's taller build. You were placed in the ambulance on a bed and before you knew it, there was a heavy clamp on your finger and two paramedics touching you and saying unexplainable things to each other. A short one with a beard came close to your vision, obvious aware it was still slightly blurred, "Agent Y/n. We need to take your shirt off in order to fix your shoulder okay? We need to pop it back in as quick as we can."

All you could do is nod, Spencer making most of the choices for you as your husband - he wouldn't put you through something he knew you would disagree with. They asked him questions, and while the voices came in and out of focus, the adrenaline was wearing off and suddenly your senses heightened. "Is she pregnant?"

The question rolled off the paramedics tongue like a rehearsed poem, and Spencer shook his head like there was no possible way you were. But as you saw needles being prepared, your heart started pounding so fast it got the attention of the professionals. "Y/n, are you still with us?"

To Spencer, you looked like you had just woken up to a bad dream, but there was something deeper - you were not unconcious, if anything you looked alert.

"I'm pregnant." The paramedics glanced at each other and Spencer's eyes widened. The one with the needle placed it down carefully on a table, and before you knew it, you were being pushed through hallways and into a awfully bright room.

You passed out, fear and exaustion catching up to you. But Spencer couldn't sleep. On top of the fact that his wife had just gotten her shoulder dislocated and then fixed, and a slight rib fracture, she was also pregnant.

Spencer doubted for the first half hour of waiting for you to wake up that you actually were. You were saying nonsense, you were injured and the adrenaline... usually causes people to tell the truth. He paced and went over everything that had been happening. The change in your behaviour, the tiredness, the sickness. It was all coming together like a puzzle, and he wondered why he didn't realise sooner.

"Spence?" A small voice called out, and he approached the hospital bed almost immediately.

"Y/n." Spencer smiled in relief, overjoyed that you were alright and breathing. He knew you'd be fine, but anything can be unpredictable. Anyone can be unpredictable. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"What happened?" You tried to sit up but Spencers soft hands encouraged you to stay laying down.

"The unsub pushed a cabinet at you. You collided with the wall and dislocated your shoulder." He explained softly, the doctors told him that the specific pain killers they gave you may cause some loopiness. "Oh." You whispered, eyes searching his face like you had never seen it before, and you smiled. You were here, and he was here, and you needed nothing more. Other than more pain killers.

Spencer bit his lip, and sighed, not sure if it was the right time to bring the blindside up at that moment.

"Y/n, darling, are you... pregnant?"

The small grin wiped off your face and you took some deep breaths, nodding and avoiding his gaze in fear of rejection. Spencer sighed, and pushed his hair away from his face, a smile rising onto his cheeks. Tears welled in his eyes from happiness. "This is great, this is... wow Y/n, I can't believe.." He gulped, "I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner."

Confusing his disbelief for anger, tears started dropping down your cheeks as you sat in silence. Spencer started to worry, "Do you... not want to have a baby with me? Or at all? Do you think I won't be a good father? I know that I've had my problems in the past but I promise I can be a good father-"

"Spencer." You called his name in shock, heart aching over his insecure questions. "I do want a baby, especially one with you. And I don't think you'll be a good father, I know you'll be a great one. I just," you wiped your cheeks and he sat down in a chair beside your bed, taking your hand in his. "I'm scared. I thought that you wouldn't want to have one right now because of our... plan. This is really early and we didn't get to save- and- I thought you'd be mad-" You had started blubbering now, the heart monitor becoming a ticking time bomb for a full on breakdown, before Spencer took your face in his hands and smashed your lips onto his.

He pulled back, smile wide, eyes full of adoration and sorrowfullness.

"Y/n, I don't care about that plan anymore. And I'm not mad." He searched your eyes with his, "I just wished you told me earlier. Maybe you wouldn't have been injured, because god knows I wouldn't have let you go out into the field."

"Spencer, I'm so sorry." You sniffled, placing your other hand on top of his.

"Oh, darling. You don't have to be sorry. I've made my injured and pregnant wife cry, I should be sorry."

You giggled, and leant forward to kiss him on the nose. "So it's really okay?"

"Of course. You just have to heal quickly, and I'll do all the rest."

taglist (open!!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m

[dcxdpdabbles]

I am feral for fake dating au and alley boyfriends goes so hard, I am on my hands and knees begging for a part 3

Tim's afternoon meeting gets canceled due to three of the members coming down with the flu. Usually, he would have just sent them a recording of what they missed, but since the three were presenting and the meeting was meant to be with the five department heads, he feels it would be best to reschedule.

There was only so much HR could report to him, after all. This meant he had the entire afternoon off.

Tim usually uses the free time he finds himself with to get a head start on other work. Maybe even some crake some cases. But today, he knew Danny was off from his job. His roommate was likely at home watching that new show he really got into.

Last night, he explained the entire plot over their dinner- Danny came from one of those families that always ate dinner at the same time- and went as far as to reveal fun facts he learned about the production team in charge of his show.

Tim didn't understand why Danny was so excited to know the lighting effects used only for a particular character. Nor did he find it as fascinating.

However, watching him get excitable was endearing enough that he listened to the whole thing. Then, he sat down to watch the show, finding it adorable that Danny couldn't stop speaking to the screen as if the characters could hear him.

Tim stares at his computer screen, trying his best to get himself to focus. The data sheets needed some work, but he had two weeks to complete it, and he really wasn't in the mood to verify so much work if he wasn't completely focused.

He glances at the clock, watching the little red hand tick. He insisted on having a face clock in his office instead of just having an electrical one because he found the ticking sound comforting.

Now, it merely annoyed him. That only happens when he's been trapped inside the office for too long or gone out as Red Robin so much he neglected his Tim Drake side. He could take the afternoon off, but what fun would that be?

He had also been trapped at home for a long time, working remotely whenever he could. Tim wanted to go out, but he didn't want to do that alone.

It would be so dull to just go to the same places on his lonesome as it would be sitting in his office or in his room. He could play video games or watch a movie with his roommate, but it wasn't the same of getting outside for a little while

His eyes landed on his cell phone. He could call Danny and ask if he wanted to go out today, but he had no idea what to do. He could take Danny shopping again- apparently, his roommate had no actual use for suits at his barista job, so the two had gone to the mall and gotten him some jeans and t-shirts, but the other seemed tired of that the last time.

Tim didn't want to spend money at the movies either because he wanted to do something active. The problem was that Danny hated spots with a passion and wasn't one for hiking or walking. They could go to a place to eat, but going out just for food wasn't something they could fill a whole afternoon with, not to mention Gotham's cold wave had most of the hang-out places closed until summer.

How hard was it to think of something to do in a city this big?

His eyes shift over to his computer before he caves. He quickly changes the docking station on his work computer to his personal laptop, eyes dancing between his two monitors.

He types into the search engine Where to take your roommate in Gotham City.. The first result is a list of locations, but Tim finds that they are all well-known tourist places, which is something he would rather avoid. He's just not up for a big crowd.

The following result is restaurants to try, which again isn't enough to fill the entire afternoon with- he notes to visit the ramen place because Danny mentioned he wanted to have some three days ago. He grows irritated with the similar lists he clicks until he stumbles across a new store that opened only a week ago.

It's new enough that most people don't know about it, which means they could enjoy a fun new activity since it is a random Tuesday.

Tim checks the store times, confirms that they could be there for a few hours and then reaches for his phone. Three taps later, a dull ringing sounds in his ear as he waits for Danny to answer.

Initially, he didn't want to go shopping, but he thought Danny would enjoy this shop more than any clothes store.

"Yellow?" Danny chirps in his ear, warm and bright. His voice reminds him of the comfortable nights when he's brewing Tim a lovely London Fog Late.

At once, Tim feels himself relaxed. "Hey, Danny. I have the afternoon off. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out?"

"Oh, sure! What do you want to do?"

Tim looks up at the screen. "How would you like to go to a place that lets you design your own succulent and offers an entire room filled with decorations to personalize it?

"I'll be ready in fifteen minutes!" Danny shouts the sound of crashes accompanying his voice as he likely leaps from the couch. "How expensive is it?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'll pay for everything." Tim tells Danny just as Tam and three interns wander into his office. He holds up a finger at them, listening to Danny loudly proclaim he wants to be the one to treat Tim.

It's sweet, but Tim had so much money he didn't know what to do. Danny was saving up to buy his own car- and the last time Tim offered to buy him one, his roommate had refused to make him the Red Robin Rush for a week.

"Don't worry about money, Danny. Just get dressed, and tonight, you can make it up to me the usual way." He says, feeling a slow, smug smile spread across his face as Danny rushes to the coffee station to check through the tea they had.

"I'll do something even better. It's a new trick I picked up, but it's guaranteed to keep you up all night." Danny tells him as he fumbles with his clothes- likely changing- which is loud enough to echo from his phone speakers. An intern shifts, uncomfortable on his feet.

Tam raises an impressed eyebrow, which, for some reason, makes Tim slightly embarrassed. His face turns a bit red as he hastily tells his roommate. "I should be picking you up in an hour."

"Wait, what do I wear for this? I will not repeat O'malley's."

Tim's face turns redder at the reminder of last week's blunder. It wasn't his fault that what he considered casual clothes were what Danny thought were formal. He told the man to meet him at the restaurant after work, not considering it upscale since it was only served dinner, and once again, Danny's outfit had him stopped at the door by a worker who didn't think he was dressed the part.

"Just wear that outfit I like. The blue one." He tells him about the black sweatshirt with blue stripes and a fluffy black and blue sweater. It was the warmest, most stylish thing Danny women meant for streetwear, and he knew it would be a bit chilly in the evening.

"Alright. See you soon. Text me when you are outside. Byeeeee"

"Bye," Tim hangs up and offers the three interns and impressed secretary a sheepish look. "Sorry about that. How can I help you?"

Tam steps forward, waving a hand at the two young men and single women older than him by a few years. They straighten up as his PA speaks. "I just wanted to introduce the interns that start tomorrow; it won't take more than five minutes if you have to be somewhere soon."

"It's lovely to meet you all. " Tim smiles, ignoring the wide-eyed stare the one on the left is giving him. The introductions don't take long at all, but Tim still feels restless when he grabs his coat and rushes past Tam's empty desk. He leaves a note on her desk telling her he took the afternoon off and practically skips down to the parking garage.

He is unaware of the rumors circulating among his employees after a particular intern on the left let it slip he overheard Mr. Drake talking to his lover like their relationship was....like that. He is even more unaware that the second he picks up Danny from the front of their building, five shadows break into his penthouse and search the place for any drugs.

He is too busy picking out crystals with his roommate, who babbles about their effects on ghosts, memorized by his silly random knowledge again.

Meanwhile, Bruce is horrified to find some green liquid in the second bedroom. He's not sure why Tim or Danny have to separate rooms if they truly are lovers, but the fact this was hidden in the room by the other boy gives Jason's idea of Tim living with his dealer aan uncomfortable amount of credit.

He returned a sample to the Cave when his other children reported nothing. They refrained from planting any bugs just because Tim would find them, and it would stop him from trusting them should they have to give him a proper introduction.

Upon conducting some tests, despite the similar appearance to the Lazarus pits, results showed it's closer to the formula of Mr. Freeze's ice ray but in liquid form.

Why would Fenton hide this? What was he up to? Did Tim know that Fenton had cut an entire part of the wall to hide jars and jars of this goo?

[hwajin]

☆°. — burn me | hhj

genre: smut

pairing: nerd!hyunjin x afab!reader

wc: 3k

cw: wax/ heat play, dacryphilia, hyunjin is insanely needy

author's note: this hyunjin is @astraystayyh 's and hers ONLY. (she holds a gun to my head forcing me to say this)

You had wanted Hyunjin to speak to you. To reach out to you, to tell you things about himself. You knew he was shy, and you liked that about him. You liked when his ears shot red because you gave him a simple compliment, to his new computer set-up, or how very eloquently he helped you out with your Statistics homework. You liked how his body jolted when you touched him, when your fingers tickled him featherlight while he was studying, head deep in a book. You liked it even more when you teased him beneath the table when you dined out, a leg of yours creeping up his trembling one, and when he looked at you as though you were crazy. As though you were doing something so very forbidden, as though he never wanted you to stop.

But you had told him that you wanted to know more. That, yes, you could often read his face, his eyes, his body as it was, that he was an open book regarding his feelings, his preferences – sexual or not – his moods; but that it wasn’t enough. You wanted him to tell you if he was having a bad day, if he was struggling with the pressure he put on himself. You wanted him to tell you if he was feeling good, when you let your fingertips dance delicately across his stomach, tracing the lines of his faint muscles, wondering where they came from with the lack of exercise and the hours spent in front of his computer. You wanted to know if there was something he wanted to do, he craved to try, dreamed of at night. What he thought about when he lay alone in his bed, on nights you couldn’t spend together, what went through his mind when he closed his eyes and touched himself. You wanted him to spell it out. To tell you. To get past his futile embarrassment and open himself up to you.

You were looking at the package in your hands as you were sitting at the edge of Hyunjin’s bed. Perplexed. Curious. The water hitting the tiles in the other room reminded you that your boyfriend would take a while to come out, always preferring long showers, always waiting for the stream to turn cold before he considered reaching for the towel; so you were left figuring out the contents of the package yourself.

Wax. Massaging wax. Wax which looked too… sensual to be put on his windowsill and lit on romantic evenings. Wax which he had ordered for different purposes, you were sure.

And you knew you were right when Hyunjin, not fifteen minutes later, stood in front of you, stuttering, flushed, the redness on his cheeks spreading all around, his glasses still fogged up from the condensation in the bathroom. It didn’t help his embarrassment that he had chosen to only throw around a towel over his waist; you liked that. You liked that he deemed clothes as nihil after his showers; you both knew that whenever he was done studying, long past midnight, clothes would discard themselves from your bodies in mere minutes, anyways. You liked that though he was shy, he granted himself to you in a certain way, gifted you a part of his vulnerability. That he wasn’t afraid to be loved by you.

“Listen, I wanted to tell you…”, he started. But he didn’t make it far. Words failed him, the heat on his face distracted him. He couldn’t even look you in the eyes; and you hadn’t even said anything. You had only watched him, knowingly, before he had sat down on the bed, next to you, face in his hands to hide his embarrassment. Mumbling apologies you giggled at, because “Why? You did nothing wrong?” You couldn’t help but tense at the sound which escaped him at that, a faked sob, a deep whimper, something between that and an embarrassed laugh before he bent his body further into his arms. Hiding himself. Exposing himself. Because the skin on his back moved with him as he did, and you wanted to touch it. Because the skin on his stomach folded into million creases, tummy soft and protruding, and you wanted to kiss it.

“No, but I feel like I should have told you, before… before I just order something you might- like- end up not being into. And…”, he looked at you then, barely. Glanced at you from beneath the confines of his arms, glasses sitting on his nose crooked. The look in his eyes when he struggled to find the bravery to speak, to admit. “I’m not even sure I’m into… wax play; heat play. Whatever. I wanted to… try it. On myself- by myself. Before we tried it together.”

You chuckled, and he closed his eyes in pained expression again. You could say you had never seen him so crimson, but that would be a lie; you saw him so crimson every day, whenever you tickled a confession out of him by kissing the lobe of his ear, or when you sighed out how good he felt when he found himself hovering over you, inside you. Quite frankly, you saw him dripping in red more than you saw his actual skin, and it made you chuckle at him again.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, love. And you don’t have to- like, know exactly what you’re into to tell me it’s something you wanna try. We can experiment together.”, you said while sliding closer to him along the mattress. You felt the heat of his body radiating over to your own, and you nudged his shoulder slightly with your head. Made him glance at you again, from the side. You smiled at the smile he granted you, giggled then, to soothe him some more. Your shy lover. Your lover who bore secrets so erotic and deep you feared to never get behind them all in this lifetime.

“And besides, it’s more fun together.”, you ended with a playful wink, and Hyunjin’s whine turned into a laugh, and it sent a shiver along your neck, behind your ears.

It’s how you found yourself over his body. Watching his limbs spread across the bed, his fingers digging into the pillow beneath his head, the knuckles white. It made his arm tense up, made his veins shine blue in the relative darkness of the room. Ignited only by candles. Smelling only of vanilla. And his body. And sex.

When the first drip of hot wax had spilled on his naked body, close to his navel and so red against his pale skin your eyes had fluttered, Hyunjin had hissed. He had jumped in his place, a big palm reaching for you and long fingers digging into your flesh. You had asked if he was okay; he had looked almost concerned, and you’d been sure he’d tell you to stop. To just try something different. That it didn’t feel like he’d imagined it to. But then he’d raise his head a little, and his eyes had searched for yours; and you knew he had loved it. You knew that a little more of this, and he’d be a puddle in his own mattress, a wet, whining, desperate puddle in your hands.

Now, his lips were as red as the dried wax all across his body. Scattered here and there, two drops on his collarbone, perky and bony whenever he moved. Three drops on his chest, dangerously close to his nipples; he had whined particularly loud at those. The drops formed a path to his sex, scattering the skin there the most. On the lines by his abdomen, the dips in his hips, pooling there. Cracking at his thighs because he moved so much, squirmed under you uncontrollably. Hyunjin had spread his legs somewhere in the process; he was so needy, so lost in chasing after his pleasure that he lost himself, found himself in your eyes and grew bashful. You had taken the opportunity, had seen the supple flesh of his inner legs, so close to his darkened erection, that you let a few drops fall there. And Hyunjin had screamed. He had bitten the back of his hand, remembering the other students in the dorm. Had forgotten all about them in a manner of seconds when you did it again, let wax meet the sensitivity of his skin, and he had cried your name. Had writhed and groaned into the pillow beneath him. Had struggled finding his glasses when he’d lay on his back again.

You watched his bent arm, the way he was digging his fist into the space between the pillow and his hair. Struggling. Whining. Constantly whining; he wasn’t ever quiet now. His eyes were shut, making his face crease and contort, his teeth fletched, so the feeling of heat on his biceps was a surprise, and he yelped at it. It trickled closer to his armpit, and when it tickled, he shivered. A moan so throaty ripped through the room that you felt your clit throb, your stomach twist. And then Hyunjin sobbed, in frustration, or in pleasure, or due to sensations even deeper, emotions even greater. He sobbed, dryly, because he seemed overwhelmed of what else to do, and it made you kiss him. You bent down to peck his chest, to nibble at his collarbones. You kissed his neck, licked it, breathed in the scent of the vanilla candle there, of his sweat. You tickled his jaw with your breath, as hot as the wax, or hotter, felt him pant, felt him whine. You kissed his chin wetly, with an open mouth, leaving traces of you everywhere, traces of spit next to the traces of wax, a body traced in love. Because his body was made for it. To be loved, adored. To be destroyed and put back together.

It was when you kissed his lips, red and puffy and spit-laced and bruised, that you noticed the wet on his pink cheeks. The tears behind his glasses, past his eyes. You halted in your tracks.

“Babe, you okay?”

Eyes shooting open, and Hyunjin caught you off guard when he looked at you; eyes flooded with desire, with you. Bloodshot, reddened. Everything was red, you saw it everywhere on his body. And he nodded. Frantically. Desperately. You didn’t need to ask if he wanted you to stop, you could read it on his face that “Please, please, whatever you do, don’t stop. Never stop.”

So you pulled back again, a smirk tugging at your lips. And Hyunjin flushed when he saw it. You took hold of the candle again, hovered it over him. He watched it. The anticipation made the man suck in a breath, and his abdomen hallowed out. You let wax drip into the dip it created, liked the way it nestled there. As if it belonged there. As if he was made to be painted, to be pleased like this.

„Does it hurt, baby?“

A whine from his mouth, and the glasses on his nose sat so deep. He was sweating, wet all around, and the piece of metal just didn’t want to stay where it belonged. You liked it. Would never, not after half a year of being with him, get tired of the way he fixed them. Though he didn’t now. Now, his glasses where the last thing on his mind. Hyunjin shook his head, then he nodded. Then he shook it again. He couldn’t look at you. He was too shy to.

“N-no… yes. I- hmm… I don’t know- fuck-“

Fingers digging into the mattress, finding your flesh then, marking you with the tips of his fingers, with the sharp of his nails. Mindlessly, he was clinging onto you without knowing he was. Because he needed you. Because his body was calling for your own.

“Why are you crying, then?”

Another tear of his fell gen his temple just as you let another droplet of wax meet his skin; it was so close to his sex, tangling with his pubes as it trickled further down that you were sure it pained, but his reaction was heavenlier than anything you could have imagined; a cry of your name and he sobbed it, every syllable, every letter. More tears were rolling past his eyes. He was calling out to you, for salvation, for more, for less, for everything. And the muscles beneath his skin were trembling; you believed you could see it. He was vibrating, he was hot. He was red all around; his erection the most aggressive tone of them all, the white precum so pearly, so white in contrast. You wanted to lick it off.

“I- I don’t know. Because- fuck, ohh my god-“, heavy breathing, heaving chest. Hyunjin knew you better than leaving the question unanswered, though. Was too eager to leave a question simply hang in the air. “Because it feels so fucking good.” He didn’t look at you when he said it. He reddened deeper when he said it. The sweat on his forehead thickened when he said it.

“Yeah? Does it?”

He nodded, nodded and nodded so hard his glasses dared to fall off. He didn’t care. He continued nodding, until you chuckled. Then he looked at you. His eyes were so clear, so shot with pleasure. They were saying everything his mouth couldn’t, was shy to. You shivered in his gaze; how could a man so beautiful be so unaware of it?

“And because- because I’m so embarrassed.”

He whispered the words. He looked at you so intently; because he knew you’d ease him off. He was aware that his shame was futile, that it was never justified. And you knew that a part of him liked it. That sometimes, a man as smart as him enjoyed to turn dumbfounded in your hold. That the lack of thoughts, the struggle to find words when he was around you, reminded Hyunjin of the effect you had on him. It reminded him how much you liked it; when he started stuttering, when he forgot what he was talking about, when his only affections, his only obsession was you.

You chuckled, face smitten, lashes batting at him. He whimpered, bit the back of his hand when he felt the wax near his erection. It was so hard. And he was so close; if you didn’t touch him soon, he thought, he would come undone without any contact at all.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed about feeling good, baby. You can let go when you’re with me. Don’t be shy about feeling good when you’re with me.”

Hyunjin thought this was his demise. His hell and heaven simultaneously, that it was in your hands he would die, in your hands he would be reborn again.

He pleaded you. Silently first, then with a trembling word; he needed you. He had never needed you more than now. He put his embarrassment to the side, took to heart what you always wished of him; to tell you what he wanted. To tell you what he needed.

“You, babe. I need you, I can’t, I- fuck, please, baby, please. I need to feel you, please.”

You had never heard him beg this way. Had never seen such lust in his eyes. You had never been so wet, not for him, not for anyone. He had the ability to break you, and he wasn’t even aware of it. Laying in the nude before you, traces of wax and spit and love on his body, and he didn’t even know you were as obsessed with him as he was with you.

Your panties and shirt were discarded quicker than either of you could look. You were hovering over him, and Hyunjin swore your pussy was hotter than the wax, than the fire burning it down. Before you sank down on him, he stopped you, numb fingers caressing your waist. He whined, writhed. He couldn’t look at you, he mumbled something. It wasn’t until you put a thumb on his chin and made Hyunjin look at you that he reddened, again, always reddening. He was breathing heavy when your eyes met. So heavy that you felt the warm condensation of it on your fingers. It was shaky, he was shaking.

“I’ll come. Like, right away. I’m already coming, I think.”

The confession knocked the breath out of your lungs. For someone so shy, so bashful about the slightest touch, the most innocent contact his words were always marked with an eroticism so great, so honest. No one had ever talked to you the way he talked to you; despite his shyness, despite his hesitations.

You assured him, kissed him, pecked his lips. They were hot, wet. They were dripping with his love for you.

And then you positioned yourself above him, and when you took hold of his base to guide him against you, when you felt him slide past your wetness and into you his hands dug into your flesh, so deep into your waist it hurt, but you didn’t mind it. It was his face you were focusing on; heavenly. As though he had found heaven. He was coming, hard, jolting his trembling hips against you; he was merely grinding against your pussy, against your clit, not much penetrating even, and yet he looked as though he had never felt a pleasure bigger than this. Eyes rolling back, violently. Lip bleeding between his teeth. Spit spewing when he cursed deeply, throaty. Sweat running down his temples, your waist because his palms coated you in it. In him. His scent, his wetness.

And you watched the red traces on his body. The pale colour on his cheeks, the feverish one on his lips. The deep, sensual one on his chest and stomach and abdomen, the bit on his biceps, the dried and flaked red wax. Only memories of it remaining when you’d wash it off later in the shower, when the morning sun would almost come out again. When you’d kiss him there later, after he’d come down, in the spots the wax had been, to soothe skin, to comfort him. And the wax would stand by his nightstand, proof and witness of the past hours, of Hyunjin’s desire, of your love.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @ppiri-bahng @cherrrywon @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @junebug032 @noellllslut @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife @astraystayyh

[gurugirl]

Daddy's Pretty Girl | dom!daddy!h

Summary: Harry just wants to make his princess happy OR The story of you and Harry, how you met, and all the rest.

A/n: Requested! This was previously posted on Patreon!

Word Count: 4,385

Warning: Smut, cock warming, exhibition kink (public), daddy kink, DDlg (consented and role play understood), dom/sub dynamic

 🌸 🌸 🌸

“Princess? What are you doing?” Harry spoke calmly as he placed his hands on your hips while you balanced yourself on the counter to reach the tallest cupboard.

“I can’t reach this high so I had to climb up here to get something.”

“And why didn’t you ask me for help? Hmm?” He gripped you in his hands and pulled you down to the floor safely.

You’d been caught red-handed. Well, sort of. You hadn’t quite found what you were looking for before Harry noticed you climbing on the counter. It was the package of butter shortbread cookies with the strawberry jam and cream in the center that you were trying to find. Harry hid them from you because every time he brought home your little treats you’d ruin your appetite for dinner and so it was just easier for him to put them somewhere you couldn’t find them.

Pouting you kicked your bare foot against your shin, “Just didn’t want to bother you.”

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his bottom into the counter as he smirked at you, “Oh is that so? And what were you looking for then?”

You shrugged and looked up at him with your sweetest softest eyes as you bit your lip. He knew what you were looking for. He didn’t even need to ask.

Harry sighed and walked past you to the pantry and reached to the tall shelf pulling down your treats. You smiled widely and clasped your hands together, waiting patiently for him to dole out a few of them to you.

“You don’t have to sneak around, Princess. If you want a little treat I’ll give you a little treat. Just ask. But tell Daddy why he hides these from you. Want to make sure you remember.”

Nodding you responded, “Cause I’ll eat the whole box. Then I won’t eat my dinner. And my tummy always hurts after.”

“That’s right. Because you’re like a little puppy with no off switch when it comes to your treats. You’d inhale the whole package if given the chance.”

“But I just wanted one this time. Promise.”

“You never just want one, Y/n,” he took your chin in his hand, “How many do you want?”

“Can I have three?”

Harry smiled and let go of your chin as he reached into the package and pulled out four of your cookies, handing them to you. He always gave you an extra.

“Thank you, Daddy!” You bit into the first one, the buttery crust of the cookie crumbling into the tart strawberry jam with the cream coating your tongue. “Mmmm…”

“You’re welcome, Princess,” he leaned down to kiss your forehead, “Don’t climb up on the counters like that anymore. Okay? Can’t have you getting hurt over a $5 box of biscuits.”

You sighed and nodded as you chewed your next bite and then followed Harry up to his office where he was finishing work. When he sat down in his chair you sat in his lap and popped the next cookie into your mouth. Harry was used to you interrupting his work and sitting in his lap. He didn’t mind it. In fact, he preferred having you in his lap as often as possible.

“Don’t forget we’re going out tonight. I want you to wear that yellow dress I laid out for you on the bed. Okay?”

You crunched your bite and nodded as you leaned back into Harry’s chest and watched his computer screen as he did whatever it was. You didn’t really even know exactly what he did for work. Something about trading money and buying and selling things or funds or… he tried explaining it to you a few times but it went over your head. All you knew was that he got to work from home and he made a lot of money.

Life was good with Harry. You never imagined you’d have it so good. You didn’t have it easy when you were growing up. When you graduated high school you worked full-time so you could pay rent and buy food. You moved away from your dad the moment you had the chance. He was abusive and mean and he scared you.

So you didn’t go to college because your priority was to get away from your dad which meant you’d need to pay rent for a place to live. But you struggled for a long time. You only made minimum wage and you had no friends or any other family to ask for help. Your dad saw to it that any friends you made didn’t stick around.

And back then, even as hard as it had been working menial jobs and living in a rundown apartment barely scraping by, you were free from your dad. Sure things were expensive and you couldn’t always buy groceries, but you could sleep at night knowing you were safe.

But everything changed for you when you got a job as a waitress at a swanky little downtown joint. High rollers wearing expensive watches and Italian shoes would come in with large wads of cash. And the best part was that the tips they left were very very generous.

In a way, it was your lucky break. You started making a living wage when tips were included in your check and you bought yourself a used car with cash. You were able to afford health insurance, a few nice outfits, and could finally have a refrigerator full of food.

It felt like you were living in the lap of luxury. You weren’t, but you’d never felt such freedom in your life. Waitressing was a good gig for you. You were bubbly and nice and often remembered the names of your usuals. They loved it when you remembered their names.

One night, it was an extra busy shift and you’d been struggling to keep up a bit since two people had called in and you were running around every which way trying to make sure all your tables were well taken care of.

A group of four men were seated in your section and you greeted them but one of them could tell you were flustered. Taking their drink orders you scribbled on your notepad what they wanted when one of the men reached out to pull at your apron, “Take a breath, Y/n.”

You squinted your eyes at him when he said your name. You had a nametag of course, so it wasn’t like some crazy thing that he’d know your name, but your guests didn’t normally say your name to you unless they were regulars. And this man was not a regular.

“I’m serious. Take a deep breath, with me,” he kept his dazzling green eyes pinned to yours as he inhaled and you followed his lead, inhaling and then he exhaled, his breath falling from his pink lips. “See? That wasn’t bad, was it? Now, remember to keep breathing. Inhale, exhale.”

You smiled at the handsome man, “Thank you.”

“My name’s Harry.”

You giggled pointed at your name tag, “Y/n. As you know.”

“Beautiful name.”

Somehow Harry had made your busy and hectic night one of the best nights you’d ever had at the restaurant. He was so thoughtful and gentle with you. And he was handsome as hell. Tall and well built, nice hair, big hands…

So when he showed up a week later you were out of your mind giddy because he was in your section. And his genuine warmth had you flushing hot and made you all exasperated and blubbering your words.

Only that second night, instead of just paying the tab and leaving with a wave goodbye he walked up to you and handed you his card as he softly dragged his fingers over your wrist, “When’s your next day off?”

“Tomorrow,” you inhaled as you looked up at him.

“Call me tomorrow.”

So you did, obviously. And really the rest is history. Harry swept you off your feet and took such good care of you that now here you were two years later and still just as smitten with him as the day you met him.

. . .

You loved getting dressed up and going out with Harry, your big strong man who treated you like a princess. You were spoiled and doted on by him and when he took you out he was always so protective of you. Keeping your hand in his or his arm over your shoulder to hold you close.

He normally helped you pick your outfits too. You usually went with whatever he chose to make him happy. He liked having access to your skin so he could squeeze you and touch you which meant he liked you in short dresses and skirts the most. And anything that kept your shoulders bare so he could kiss them.

And depending on what kind of outing it was, he’d let you know if you were allowed to wear your panties or not. That was one decision you were not allowed to make.

Harry pulled out a pair of cotton panties with little hearts all over. Something that covered your bum in case the flimsy material of your short dress rose up.

“Gotta keep your tush covered tonight, Princess,” he said as he pointed at the bed, gesturing for you to sit down so he could help you put your panties on.

“Okay, Daddy,” you bit your lip as Harry knelt down on the floor in front of you and lifted up one of your bare feet, sliding the opening upward and then repeating on your other leg.

He liked to make a show of how he did it. Slow and teasing. He brought the fabric up to just below your knees and ran his hands up your thighs as he kept his eyes on yours, “Doesn’t mean Daddy won’t want to play with you, though. Pussy’s so good for me s’hard to resist. Maybe we’ll have you in my lap again. Let you sit on my cock right in front of all your friends. And you’ll be a good girl just like last time and keep quiet and not shift all around. How’s that sound? Wanna warm Daddy’s cock tonight when the time is right?”

You nodded and grinned, “Oh my god… I loved it when we did that so much. Love that no one knew except you, Daddy.”

By the time Harry had helped you into your panties, you were already slick from the dirty things he was saying to you and the way he was running his thumbs so close to your pussylips but just missing where you wanted to be touched.

You were meeting friends out for trivia night at the little pub that served the best pizza in town. Harry had his hand wrapped around yours as you both greeted everyone and sat at the booth with them all.

You weren’t sure how it would be possible to cock warm Harry given how many people were smushed into the booth with you both but when he pulled you into his lap, grunting, “S’not enough room, get up in m’lap,” you understood he wasn’t going to let you worry about all that. Harry was in charge. He would figure out how it would work. All you had to do was sit there, perched on his lap looking pretty.

He didn’t make a move to undo his pants or adjust you at all, first just feeling everyone out as you sat with your plush bottom over his thighs and ordered your vodka lemonade.

When the cards were all passed out and the trivia questions began to pop up on the screen everyone had their teams ready. All your friends knew better than to ask which team you wanted to be on because they already knew your answer would be that you were on whatever team Harry was on.

Maybe it was a little pathetic but you honestly didn’t care. He was the love of your life and your best friend. He loved you so much and treated you like you were the best thing that’d ever happened to him and so of course you were going to choose to be with Harry. Even if it was just for a trivia game at a bar.

His big palm splayed across your bare thigh as he whispered into your ear, “I love you.” You wiggled into him and turned to whisper back, “Love you, Daddy.”

It was sickening to everyone around you but also kind of cute in a way. You two were that couple. PDA was part of the package deal if they wanted to hang out with you. The first six months everyone kind of laughed it off. They said you two would chill out once the honeymoon phase was over. But here you were nearly 2 years later and if anything you two were even more touchy-feely.

Trivia nights were once a month. Harry liked to make sure you were spending time with other people and not just him. He wanted you to have friends and get out as much as you could.

When the game started and the pizza was plated you felt Harry’s arm slide around the front of your waist as you wrote down the answer that was discussed between your team. You were always the one in charge of writing down the answers.

“Take it easy on that vodka lemonade, Princess. Need you to have your wits about you when we get home. Okay?”

You nodded and turned to whisper in his ear, cupping around the back of it so no one could read your lips, “When are you gonna stuff me with your big cock, Daddy? Want you inside of me.”

Harry grunted and pinched your thigh shushing at you before he gulped down the last of his water. Harry didn’t drink when you two went out if he was driving. He let you drink but he didn’t like to have any alcohol in his system if he was going to be behind the wheel.

When the game was nearly coming to an end and your team was winning the final round the final category was music, as usual. 30 seconds of a song you had to guess was played for 10 songs. You could double your points if you knew both the name of the artist and the name of the song.

This was the part of the night when the people were boozed up and laughing.

Mel, who was sitting to Harry’s left tapped his arm, “Gotta go take a leak, mind if I scooch out?”

You and Harry had to move to let Mel out but when you both got back into the booth you scooted further in and realized Harry’s cock was solid under your bum. You leaned forward, putting your elbows onto the table, and felt Harry spread your skirt over his lap before he lifted his hips and the next song to guess came over the speakers.

You were distracted by Harry’s movements so you weren’t taking note of the song at all until Gessie poked your wrist with her finger, “So I think that was Bruce Springsteen. But what’s the song?” She snapped her fingers and looked at the other person who was on your team. As the pair were discussing which song it could be you felt the warm, stiff flesh of Harry’s dick under your thigh and you lifted just a bit to blurt out the name of a song you thought of off the top of your head, “Glory Days?”

Your panties were pulled to the side before you felt Harry’s fingers slip through your puffy, wet folds and then he pulled at your hips to draw you back toward him, only this time instead of sitting on his lap, you slowly, slowly slid over his cock. Your skirt was covering him and everything happening underneath.

You sighed when you had him stuffed inside of you and he panted softly into your ear, “Don’t wiggle around too much. Just sit still like a good girl.”

See, wiggling too much might have Harry coming. It’d happened before. The first time you cock warmed him in public (yes, there were multiple occurrences) you were so turned on and flustered that you kept swaying back and forth and squeezing around him. And he tried holding you in place but the whole experience of doing something like that in public was new for both of you. You were both excited and it didn’t help that you were pulsing around him and softly moaning.

When he came he had to act like you’d elbowed him in the gut when someone asked if he was okay. His pained expression and groan were easily played off as something rather innocent.

But Harry preferred coming inside of you only when it was an appropriate time. Usually in private but sometimes in the sex club you both frequented. You did have an exhibitionism kink so fucking at the sex club while others watched was welcome. But not at a local bar during trivia night.

When Mel returned you and Harry didn’t need to move as he sat at the end. You struggled to write down the last few answers as you began to pant softly and felt the liquid from your pussy dribble down.

“I’m gonna get your pants all messy, Daddy. I’m sorry.”

Harry rocked his hips up and you gasped as he adjusted your seating and pulled you closer, “It’s fine baby. You’re doing so good for me.”

And as much as you loved the thrill of secretly cock warming Harry like you were, there was always the issue of parting. If anyone was sat too close they’d see Harry’s cock in all its glory once you removed yourself from him. So you had to be careful about how it was done. Normally you’d order one last drink just as everyone else was paying their bill and getting ready to leave, that way when you two were the last to leave no one really wondered why since you still had a full drink to get through.

And that’s what you did this time as well. Mel hung around for a bit and you just hoped he couldn’t tell you were practically trembling from the way Harry’s cock was splitting you in half right in front of the guy as he yammered on about his job with Harry.

Your skin was hot and you were nearly drooling into your vodka lemonade at the way it felt.

You could tell Harry was at his wits end as well. You’d feel him throb every now and then. The small grunts he’d let out were also a good signal that he was struggling just as much as you were.

The moment Mel slid out of the booth and waved goodbye Harry’s hand was up, motioning to the waiter to ask for the bill for you two. He held your hips and rocked upward a couple of times before he began to pull out of you, “Nice and easy. Oop, stop right there,” he tightened a hand on your hip to keep you steady as he slid his pants up and kept your skirt covering the action.

You were a wobbly, sighing mess of a girl as he got you into his car and took you home.

“Daddy’s gonna take care of you baby. Gonna take away that achiness inside, yeah?” He spoke to you as you were pulled into the house before he lifted you up and carried you to the bed.

You were in a hurry. You needed him right then as you whined and began to pull at your panties but Harry swatted at your thigh, “Let Daddy do it. You just lie there and look pretty for me. My little Princess doesn’t need to lift a finger.”

That was the norm. He preferred you to lay comfortably all spread out underneath him while he did all the work.

He loved the sight of you. Your skin was hot and your limbs were already shaking with need by the time he finally began to lick your pussy. Soft strokes with his tongue only got you even more worked up and had you whimpering and fussing about, “P… please! Daddy!!”

Harry grinned into your pussy, pushing his briefs down his muscled thighs, lips wrapped around your clit as you bucked up into him and pulled at his hair. You were a mess. You needed one thing and one thing only.

“Daddy I need your cock, now!! I’m gonna die if I don’t get it! Oh my god, you’re so mean!”

You felt puffs of air against your wet slit as he laughed and looked up at you, “You’re going to die are you? Wow. That sounds like it’s bad, baby. Tell Daddy what he did that was mean,” he leaned over you, his strong arm reaching over your body to knead at your tits.

You pouted and lifted your head to look at him. You hadn’t even realized he’d already removed his briefs so he was fully naked, cock thick and hard between his thighs, “You… you’re not giving me your dick. And I need it.”

Another breathy laugh fell from his lips, “But I was licking your pussy. Making sure you were ready for me, Princess. Can’t just fuck my pretty girl without her little pussy hole being ready first now can I?”

You sniffled and kept the sad pout on your face so he knew you meant business.

Harry moved his hand up to your chin and squeezed your cheeks, “Don’t pout. Daddy always gives his pretty girl exactly what she wants. Doesn’t he?”

You nodded with a whine.

“That’s right. So don’t be a dramatic bellyaching brat with me. I’m just loving on you, Princess. Trying to take care of you the best I can. You’re hard to please sometimes.”

“Am not!” You countered, your words smushed together as you said them.

Harry let go of your cheeks and you felt him knee up between your legs, his thick masculine thighs pushed against the insides of your thighs as he smoothed his thumb over your mound and down to your clit, “You are. But that’s okay. Because you’re my little princess, aren’t you? She needs her Daddy to take good care of her.”

You began to take shallow breaths into your lungs as you watched him wrap his big hand around his cock and look into your eyes as he reared back, “And Daddy always gives his pretty girl what she wants. Do you know why, baby?”

You sighed as you felt the tip of him press against your empty hole. You wanted it so bad you could taste it, “Because I’m a good girl. Cause you love me, Daddy.”

“Fucking right, Princess. Daddy loves you,” he pressed into you, the girth of him opening your channel in one satisfyingly agonizing plunge. He didn’t snap his hips, but he drove into you until he was finally surrounded, encased fully in your pussy. And as he pulled you close to his chest he continued rocking into you with slow, languid strokes. Full length. He’d pull out to his tip and fuck back into you without pause until he met your cervix and he’d do it again. Nothing hard or fast. Just strong, deep, and teasingly slow.

His breath was on your face as he looked down into your eyes, “God… how’d I get so lucky, huh? Someone who needs me just as much as I need her.” He rolled into you slowly, the sopping mess between your legs just proving his point.

He fucked you dumb most nights. But some nights he was tender and warm. Sometimes he liked to take it slow and gaze into your eyes as he slid himself in and out of you, calling you his princess, his pretty girl, baby…

“Mm… me too!” You breathed out, “So lucky, Daddy. I love you…”

He dropped his lips to your neck as he continued fucking into you at the same pace he had been. Dripping wet, sticky, deep thrusts as you both panted.

You began to buck your hips upward to meet each of his thrusts. You couldn’t help the motion your hips were making as you moaned when Harry took your breast into his mouth.

He sucked on your nipple and felt your cunt squeezing him tight. You were so close already, like he knew you would be. You’d gotten all worked up cock warming him earlier and now you were gagging for it.

“You’re like a little slip-and-slide, pretty girl. Pussy all slippery and soaking wet just for my cock.”

“Uhnnnghh…” you groaned as you felt your insides begin to tingle and sparkle.

“You can come, Princess. Come on Daddy’s cock. I know you want to,” he panted, his own orgasm about to burst, “Easy there…”

You began to shake, your tummy tensed and your pussy clamped down as you sputtered out your words, “Coming! C… ffffuuu… Daaaaady!”

The beautiful spiral of your orgasm wiped you out as Harry continued fucking into you, his cock spreading your walls apart as you spasmed over him, “Pretty girl… so fucking good for Daddy…”

But he could only last so long himself until he was pinning you to the bed with his hips, cock buried deep as he dumped his fertile come into your pulsing hole, “Fuck! Fuck… oh shit…” his face twisted up in bliss.

It had been a bit of a quickie. But who could blame you? After suffering through what you had to during trivia, you both needed relief.

You ran your fingers into his hair and he nuzzled into your neck with a sigh. You both needed a minute to gather your bearings.

When you felt Harry shifting and pulling back so he could look down at you he slid a hand around to your bottom, “Let’s go get your cookies, baby,” he squeezed at your bum as you sat up.

“How many can I have?” You bounced on your bottom before you began to scoot to the end of the bed to hop off.

“As many you want, Princess.”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! 2nd part is a Patreon exclusive and is already on Patreon now! Consider joining if you'd like to see more!

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[wildwestdean]

enmity

based on both this request by @nochedie, and this request by @somethingsomethingcranberries! thank you so much for sending these in! 🤍🤍

summary: this wasn't the first time a hunt had gone wrong. sure, the injuries dean patched up for you were a little worse than usual, but it was nothing new - so, why was he so pissed off about it?

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

word count: 7.1k+

warnings: working a case/hunting, mentions of missing kids, gore, blood, reader gets injured, stitches + motel room first aid, descriptions of wounds, swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, nicknames, yelling, fighting, mature themes, kinda slow burn but not really, minor self-doubt (reader), dean acts like a dick, name calling (stupid, idiot), best!friend sam, mentions of pain killers, alcohol consumption, confessions, idiots in love, fluff, brief mention of age gap

You sat in your motel room with books and papers scattered across the bed, and a plethora of tabs open on your laptop.

“Anything?” you asked with a sigh, looking up at Sam who was across the room - the table he sat at practically mirroring your bedspread.

He huffed and set his book down, leaning back in his chair while running a hand through his hair. 

Your shoulders slumped at his reaction, a frustrated chuckle escaping your lips. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

He shook his head, glaring at the pages in front him before meeting your gaze. “I don’t get it. At all.” 

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing in confusion. “Get what?”

Sam’s eyes widened, and he waved his hands over the littered table. “This! This whole case. I mean, there’s zero background for this- this- whatever it is!” he exclaimed. 

“Okay, maybe we should just take a break? Dean should be back with the food soon...” you trailed off as a passage suddenly caught your attention, fingers tapping atop your knee as you scanned the page.

He noticed the shift in your demeanour and sat up straight, looking at you intently. “Did you find something?” he asked hopefully. 

You shook your head as you glanced at him. “No, I don’t think so, but-” you cut yourself off, feeling unsure, but you could practically feel him watching you, his eyebrows raised as he waited for you to continue. “What if we’re looking in the wrong place?” 

“How so?” he questioned. 

“Okay, well,” you started. “Right now we’re looking for things that are common around here and travel in groups. Like werewolves, demons, or vampires, right?”

Sam nodded his head, looking at you as if you were losing your mind. “Yeah…” he said slowly. 

Huffing at the fact he wasn’t following, you carried on. “So, right now we’re looking for groups of monsters. Monsters that are likely native to this area. Maybe that’s why we can’t find anything,” you tried to explain. 

Sam nodded, eyes lighting up in realization. “So… you’re not only thinking this is something mainly solitary, but also not typically known to show face around here? Like Lamia?”

“Yes, exactly! Technically there’s multiple, but-” 

“There were only two found around here,” Sam finished for you, clearly deep in thought. 

Folding your arms over your chest, you leaned back against the headboard. “What do you think?” you asked softly. 

He grabbed his laptop and placed it in front of him. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “Seems like it could be a good shot, though.”

You smiled once more, gathering up the abandoned books and loose papers just as the motel door creaked open. 

“So, what did you nerds find out while I was gone?” Dean asked, clicking the door shut behind him.

You opened your mouth to answer, but Sam beat you to it. “Girl wonder over there may have just found us a good lead,” he said, eyes still locked on his computer as his head jerked in your direction. 

Dean beamed at you as he set the bags down, settling for the empty chair across from Sam when he couldn’t find any free space on the table. “That’s my girl!” he cheered. “What did you find?”

Trying to prevent a blush from blooming across your face because of his comment, you focused on organizing the piles of research in front of you. “Sam’s giving me too much credit, I didn’t even find anything concrete.” 

Dean walked over and sat down on the other bed, a look of interest on his face. You shifted nervously as he accidentally brushed your knee along the way, feeling your heart rate quicken like a smitten teenager. You glanced up and caught Sam’s eye, and his gaze darted between you and Dean before resting on his laptop screen, a tiny smirk playing at his lips. 

“Tell me what ya got,” Dean said, popping open a bottle of beer that seemed to appear out of nowhere. 

You shrugged dismissively. “Like I said, nothing concrete. I just suggested to Sam that we were looking in the wrong place.” 

Dean shook his head, taking a sip of his beer. “You already lost me.” 

“I mean, most things we’ve hunted have come in swarms, and were typically common to the area. I suggested that perhaps we were hunting a singular thing, something foreign, like when you guys took down that Lamia,” you supplied, standing up with a stack of books to move out of the way. 

You could practically feel Sam’s smirk behind your back as you set things on the dresser. Ever since you realized that, when it came to Dean, you felt something stronger than your adopted kinship, you confided in Sam. He’s been one of your best friends and confidants for as long as you’ve known him, yet a small part of you regrets telling him; he still refuses to let you live it down, and is smug as shit about it at every possible moment. Between him, and the fact that your behaviour is growing increasingly uncharacteristic around Dean due to the fear of your own feelings, it won’t be long until Dean realizes that something is going on.

Dean laughed softly behind you, and you were thankful he couldn't see the smile that grew on your face because of the sound. “Assuming I even remember what the hell this Lima-”

“Lamia,” you and Sam both pitched in to correct him. 

“Whatever,” Dean huffed. “What makes you think this thing is some lonely foreigner?” 

Shrugging your shoulders as you set the last book down on the stack, you thought about it. “I don’t really know,” you said, spinning around and walking back to your bed. “Just a hunch, I guess? I mean, I could be really off base here.”

“Nah, your hunches are never wrong, sweetheart,” Dean told you, bringing his bottle to his smirking lips. 

You heard Sam snicker, and you sent him a death glare before declaring that you were starving. 

Setting the bottle on the nightstand, Dean eagerly stood up and grabbed the bags. “I got your favourite,” he declared, sporting a proud grin as he brought it to you. 

“Thanks, De,” you said earnestly, matching his grin as you took it from him.

One quick glance confirmed that he didn’t forget a single detail of your order, and you felt your heart swell about three sizes. 

“Sammy?” Dean asked tentatively, looking over to his brother now; the remnants of his smile still lingering.

Sam shook his head, keeping his eyes locked on his screen. “You can go ahead, I’m not all that hungry right now.”

Rather than argue, you and Dean simply shared a look and shrugged before digging in. The three of you brainstormed some more while you ate, resulting in Sam sending you and Dean an occasional look of ‘stop talking with your mouths full, it's disgusting’ - which only encouraged you both to do it more.

Eventually, Sam had all he could take and shut his laptop with a groan. “I’ll be in my room,” he muttered, all but storming away to the room next door. 

He always got his own room whenever he could, given that not only was he often up late with a lamp burning to carry on with research, but he was also always up before the sun to go for a run if the case allowed for it. It was now more than ever, though, that you assumed he got his own room to also just escape the pestering from you and Dean. 

You both watched him march out of sight for a moment before Dean turned to you, the corners of his mouth twitching. 

“It’s just too easy sometimes,” you giggled. 

He couldn’t help but snort a laugh, a grin taking over both your faces as you high-fived. 

The two of you carried on together for the rest of the night; working on the case a little more, coming up with new ways to mess with Sam, settling onto your bed to watch a few episodes of your favourite show - one that he always complains about, yet refuses to miss a single episode of.

It was the same as every night. 

Only this time, you could’ve sworn that he sat a little closer to you. That he laughed a little harder at your jokes. You even thought that you saw more fondness than usual reflected in his gaze whenever he turned to smile at you.

Yet, you didn’t dwell on it. You couldn’t dwell on it. 

It was a dangerous game to think that he saw you the way that you saw him, and it was a game you refused to play. 

A few days later, you were all seated around the room again, growing increasingly frustrated over the lack of answers. Children kept disappearing, no one knew why, and panic was rising. 

You scrolled through the page, sitting up straight as something caught your eye; and you noticed Sam do the same a few moments later. 

“Gurumāpā!” you both yelled, looking at each other. 

Dean looked up from the book he was searching through to stare at the two of you. “Uhh... gesundheit?"

“The Nepalese bogeyman,” you confirmed, ignoring Dean’s confusion. 

“You really think?” Sam asked. 

You spoke quickly, excited yet unsure “I mean, I don't know. It could be. It’s our best shot. Stories vary here and there but the moral is the same.”

“He takes disobedient kids,” Sam agreed with a nod. 

Dean shut his book with a snap. “Great! So, where do we find it, and how do we kill it?” 

You opened your mouth, but had nothing. You looked at Sam, but he only shrugged. 

“Awesome,” Dean sighed, resting his cheek on his palm as he dramatically threw the book back open to flick through the pages. 

“Are we sure about this?” you asked suddenly, having two heads snap to attention. 

Dean spoke first. “Are we ever?”

“Dean’s right, most of the time we barely have a leg to stand on,” Sam added. 

“I know, but,” you started to say. “Why’s he here? He’s supposed to be secluded on a field in Nepal. It doesn’t make sense he’s here.”

“Nothing ever makes sense,” Dean said, rubbing his eyes. “This is the best lead we’ve had so far, we can’t turn back now. For all we know, someone could’ve found a way to summon him- hell, or smuggle him here.” 

Sam nodded. “It has happened before,” he reminded, and you all took a silent moment to remember that case before shuddering. 

“We’ve done a lot more with a lot less - so come on,” Dean said, tapping a finger on your laptop to get you to keep reading. 

You obliged with a heavy sigh, and silence stretched on for a few more hours; all of you painstakingly searching through any book or entry you could get your hands on. You, working on finding a possible location this thing could be camping out in, while they tried to find a way to kill it. 

You considered it a lucky break when Dean announced he may have found something, thus allowing him to help you when Sam took it upon himself to dive deeper on what was discovered. 

After a few more hours, you all found yourselves outside of town and surrounded by nothing but abandoned farmland and its ramshackled buildings.

“Great, so… now what?” Dean asked, surveying the expanse of seemingly endless land. 

“I guess we split up? Try and find any kids first?” Sam suggested with a shrug. 

Opening your mouth to respond, you were quickly cut off by Dean. 

“No,” he said firmly, taking a subconscious step closer to you. “We don’t even know if what we’re after is what we think we’re after.”

“So?” you asked, glancing up at him. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

“No,” he repeated, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. We stay together until we get a better feel for what’s going on.” 

“Well, let’s go then,” you declared, slinging your duffel over your shoulder and strolling down the path. 

The brothers were hot on your heels, the only sounds to be heard being the gravel under your shoes and the birds up above as you explored the property.

“This isn’t gonna work, Dean,” Sam huffed after a while. “This place is massive and we’re wasting time. It’s gonna be dark soon.” 

“He’s right, De,” you agreed softly. “We need to split up.” 

“Fine, okay,” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “Do not do anything stupid. Call the second you find anything, got it?” he added with a pointed look; seemingly only directed at you.

“Yeah, I got it,” you said in annoyance. “I’m not an idiot.” 

“I never said-” Dean started to argue before Sam interrupted with a loud groan. 

“Guys? Can we, like, not do that now? Kinda life or death here.” 

“Right, yeah,” Dean grumbled with a curt nod. “No one get dead,” he muttered, choosing a direction and walking off.

You and Sam exchanged a quick glance before following suit, heading off in your own directions. 

The sun was getting lower and lower on the horizon, and you grew increasingly frustrated as every single place you checked came up empty. 

You were just about ready to start landing punches on some unsuspecting barnwood when you heard it. It was quiet, distant, but unmistakable. 

Someone - or something, you guessed - was in the next building.

It was dark. 

Dark and quiet. 

Why was it so dark? 

The sun still wasn’t set as you stepped into the barn, and that was only moments ago; wasn’t it? 

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to recall what happened: the noise that caught your attention, the apparent nesting ground you came upon, the footsteps behind you, the struggle, the fight, the searing pain as you were sent flying.

A small whimper escaped you as it all came back, breathing rapidly as you realized you were alone with no idea what was happening outside these creaking walls. You tried to move, but searing pain shot through you, a hand instinctively going to your side to instantly become warm and slick. 

“Dean?” you tried to call out, but his name only came as a broken sob. 

Choking back tears, you forced yourself to calm down so you could listen to your surroundings; yet all you could hear was your own heart pounding in your ears. 

“Dean?” you tried again, but it was like all the air was being stolen from your lungs. 

Taking a big breath, you forced yourself to your feet with a yell, bracing yourself on the closest beam you could find as you fumbled for your phone. Panic continued to rise within you when you realized it wouldn’t turn on, and fear for the boys’ whereabouts turned your blood to ice. 

Moonlight was filtering into the barn through the slats, piercing the darkness around you just enough to help you see the way out. You didn’t know where you’d go once getting outside, but you knew you just had to get outside. Forcing yourself to move once more, you pushed off the beam and trudged through the rubble and debris, heading towards the opening you had squished yourself through to get in here. Shoving your way back out, however, was not as easy, and you couldn’t help but let out a scream as the wood pressed into your wound on the way through. 

Suddenly, you heard your name being called. It was soft, like an echo in the distance, but you recognized the voice - you would know it anywhere. 

“Dean-” you attempted to call in return, but you still couldn’t find your voice. 

Once you were completely outside, you made your way in the direction you thought he was in, trying to keep pressure on the wound as best you could; thankfully, it didn’t seem to be bleeding too badly. Your head was absolutely pounding, and you weren’t sure if your vision was blurry, or if it was just too dark to clearly make anything out. Nevertheless, you carried on, using Dean as a beacon to guide your way. 

The second you saw his familiar silhouette appear up ahead, you knew you were safe. You knew you could finally let yourself give in to the pain and exhaustion, collapsing to your knees with a heavy sigh. 

You faintly registered him yelling out your name before sprinting towards you, his voice growing louder as he got closer.

“Hey,” he cried out, skidding to his knees in front of you. “Hey, look at me. Look at me,” he pleaded, cupping your face in his hands in a desperate attempt to try and meet your gaze.

“The barn,” you said urgently. “I tried to-”

“It’s okay,” Dean hushed you, shaking his head. “It’s okay, you’re okay, we got it.” 

“You got it?” you asked hazily.

“We got it, sweetheart,” he assured, his fingers brushing away your hair to try and examine you better. “It’s over, you’re okay.”

“I don’t feel okay,” you admitted quietly. 

Your vision grew even cloudier, and you didn’t know if it was your consciousness slipping away, or more tears starting to flow. 

“No, you’re okay,” he said shakily, wiping away what must have been tears. 

You nodded in response, but the movement caused your breath to hitch as the pain grew worse, and your hands shakily reached up to grab his wrists in a feeble attempt to stop everything from spinning. 

It was at this exact moment he noticed your hands were painted with your own blood, and the fear that surged through him as he glanced down made him want to throw up. Quickly slipping his flannel off, he wrapped it around you with unsteady hands, tying it tightly after warning you it might hurt.

“See?” he asked nervously, swallowing thickly. “It’s not even that bad, alright? It’s not that bad.”

The fact that it was too dark to properly assess the damage was setting his nerves on fire, and at this point he didn’t know whether he was trying to convince you or himself that everything was fine. 

He doesn’t even remember calling out for Sam, yet he must have, because his brother was suddenly skidding to a stop beside him after finally finding you.

Sam took a moment to assess you himself, though once realizing there was nothing that could be done right here and now, he decided it was time to move. 

“Can you walk?” Sam asked you, trying to keep his voice steady. 

“Not as quickly as you two gigantor’s can,” you admitted, huffing a bitter laugh. 

Neither of them laughed with you, and they shared a pointed look that you couldn’t see. 

Dean dug in his pocket, pulling out his keys before tossing them to Sam. “Get the car and start heading our way. We’ll meet you.” 

“Got it,” Sam nodded, sprinting away. 

“Alright, let’s get you up, sweetheart,” Dean announced softly, grabbing you as firmly as he dared. “Ready?” 

With a tiny nod of your head, you let out a groan as he helped guide you to your feet, letting you lean heavily on him for support. 

“Good,” Dean encouraged. “Good. How’re you feeling?” 

“Tired,” you breathed out, resting your heavy head on his shoulder. 

“Okay, hey,” he called, gently lifting your head back up. “I’m gonna carry you, alright? But I need you to stay awake. Can you do that for me?” 

You really, really wanted to say no. It seemed like he had three heads, all dancing around in front of you, and all you wanted was to close your eyes. You didn’t understand why you couldn’t. 

“Why?” you asked, clearly confused.  

“Can’t let you sleep until I check out that head,” he told you, getting ready to scoop you up into his arms as gently as he could. 

You were somehow even more confused. “My head?” you asked, before letting out a strangled gasp as he picked you up.

“It’s bleeding,” he pointed out, swallowing down the lump that formed in his throat.

As if in a way of question, you gingerly brought your fingers up to the side of your head - only to flinch in response as you came in contact with what must’ve been another wound. “Oh.”

It wasn’t long before the world around you became aglow with headlights, and Sam pulled to a screeching stop before rushing to help Dean get you in the back seat.

“Are we close to a hospital?” Dean asked, placing your head on his lap as Sam spun the car around. 

“Not at all. The motel’s our closest option right now,” answered Sam. 

“Fine, then drive faster,” Dean ordered, running a hand through your hair. 

“I’m going as fast as I can, Dean,” Sam grumbled. 

“Well, I said go faster,” Dean replied curtly, before fully turning his attention back to you.

He focused on keeping you talking as Sam sped towards the motel - discussing the latest episodes of your show the two of you had watched, how there was a new movie playing that he wanted to take you to see once back at home, that during the drive back home he’d stop at that cute cafe you spotted on the outskirts of town earlier this week; anything that came to mind, he said it.

There were multiple motives behind him doing so: to keep you distracted from the pain, to keep you awake, to keep him distracted from your pain, and to try and gauge how bad that head injury was - so far, it didn’t seem to be so much damaging as just a nasty blow. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, and the wound by your hip wasn’t bleeding as much, so he was hoping all it would need was a few good stitches once he could look at it. 

The panic he had felt since first finding you was finally starting to subside, yet he had still never been so thankful to pull into a dingy motel parking lot before. After carefully leading you to your room, he and Sam both took turns to evaluate your wounds and current condition. 

“Looks worse than it is,” Sam told you, letting out a breath of relief. “Definitely gonna be sporting a nice goose egg for a while, maybe a stitch or two, but your head seems fine.”

“Oh, yeah. Totally fine,” Dean pitched in, sarcasm dripping from the words. “What about that nice gash on her side - what would you say that is, Sammy? Four, maybe five inches?”

“Dean,” Sam chastised, shooting him a warning look. 

“Oh, here we go. Sammy the protector,” Dean muttered, heading to gather the first aid kit. “Well where the hell were you when she got turned into Raggedy Ann, huh?”

“Where was I? Where the hell were you?” Sam spat back with a scoff. 

“I was the one who didn’t want to split up in the first place!” yelled Dean, snatching a bottle of liquor off the counter to use as a disinfectant.  

“Guys?” you cut in, hoping to stop them before it escalated. 

“What?” they both shouted, turning their attention to you 

“Oh,” Sam said, realizing he was now yelling at you. “Sorry,” he added awkwardly, clearing his throat. 

Dean, on the other hand, remained quiet as he approached you. His face was as dark as an impending storm, yet his hands remained as gentle as the touch of a summer breeze while he tended to you.

Time stretched on, and the silence that now filled the room was almost harder to bear than the needle Dean was currently threading through your skin. You cast a glance over at Sam, hoping for some reprieve, but he looked just as helpless as you were. 

“Did you end up finding anyone?” you asked tentatively, addressing the room instead of either Sam or Dean.

“Sam brought a couple kids over to the station while I looked for you,” Dean informed, voice as taught as the suture he pulled through for one final knot. 

“That’s good,” you replied, wringing your fingers together. “What about-” 

“Everything got dealt with, alright?” Dean interrupted, cutting the excess material off with a harsh snip as he finished his stitching. 

“Okay,” you said, feeling like a scolded child. “Look, I-” 

Your words got stuck in your throat as Dean stood abruptly, tossing everything aside before storming over to the sink. You watched as he stiffly scrubbed your blood from his hands, the silence becoming as overbearing as before until Sam broke it. 

“Look, you just…” he trailed off, as if he were testing the water before continuing. “You really scared the hell out of us.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said, mainly because you didn’t know what to say. It’s not like you meant to get attacked, for crying out loud. 

“Sorry?” Dean barked, whipping around to face you. “You’re sorry?” 

You stared at him, watching as the fury swirled in his eyes while you thought of what you were supposed to say. 

“Okay- maybe we should all take a breather here,” Sam quickly jumped in, trying to diffuse his brother’s anger. 

“No, I don’t think so,” Dean said, dismissing the idea as he stared daggers at you. “I think we should go ahead and talk about what a goddamn idiot you were back there!” 

The words felt like a slap in the face, and they hurt more than anything else you endured tonight. “I was not an idiot.” 

“No?” he asked, stepping towards you. “Because last I checked, you were supposed to call us if you found something! Not go blindly running in to meet who knows what without any fucking backup!” 

“Oh, please!” you groaned, already fed up. “Just how was that gonna work, Dean? I just stand there and wait for you guys to show up while potentially letting some innocent kid bite it? I had to check it out!” 

“It was stupid!” he shouted back. “You wanna check it out solo, fine, but you still drop a dime! We had no idea where the hell you even were!” 

“Guys, c’mon,” Sam pleaded, desperately wanting to put an end to this. 

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean spat. “She needs to own up to her mistake.” 

“It wasn’t a mistake!” you yelled. “I’m not in this gig to play it safe, I’m in it to save lives.” 

“Yeah, and then I’m the one who ends up with your blood on my hands!” he cried out. 

“Oh, do you always have to be so goddamn dramatic?!” you asked. “Don’t act like getting hurt isn’t part of the job. You’ve got over a decade on me, Dean, you should know that better than I do!”

He laughed sardonically, shaking his head as he backed up to lean against the counter, hands rubbing at his face. “I just don’t understand how you can’t see how fucking stupid you were.” 

“Ah, yes,” you replied saccharinely. “Stupid little me. Just a naive girl who can’t do the job, huh?” 

“That’s not what I’m saying!” he barked, rubbing his face in exasperation. 

“No?” you asked incredulously. “Then tell me, Dean! What the hell are you saying, huh?” 

“God, just- you know what?” he asked, shoving himself off the counter. “Screw this. I’m done here. I’m getting my own fucking room for the night,” he muttered, storming away. 

Before you could even blink, he was slamming the door behind him. You must’ve made a move to follow him, because you suddenly felt a hand lightly grip your wrist as Sam kept you in place. 

“Just leave him to cool off for a bit,” Sam told you quietly. 

You wanted to argue, to rip yourself from Sam’s grasp and go find Dean, who was likely pacing around outside in an attempt to blow off some steam. Yet you knew it was best to do as Sam said; Dean didn’t want to listen right now, and following after him to try and talk would only make things worse. 

“Yeah,” you said belatedly, slipping from his hold. “Okay.” 

“Do you need any help?” Sam asked, watching as you gathered your things for bed. 

“I’ll be fine,” you told him, shaking your head. 

“Alright,” he sighed, not fully believing you but knowing better than to call you on it. “I’ll go next door and grab my stuff. I’ll stay with you tonight.” 

“Sounds great,” you said, despite not fully listening to him. You were too focused on trying to hold yourself together until you made it to the bathroom, letting the emotions run through you as soon as you were locked inside. 

Time seemed to slip away from you while you were in there, lost in thought while the water melded with your tears as you cleansed yourself both physically and emotionally. It was only when Sam knocked on the door with a call of your name that you finally came to your senses. Once you assured him you were fine, you quickly finished up. 

Doing your best to avoid eye contact with Sam, you made for your bed as quickly as you could move. Hiding yourself away in the safety of the blankets, you hoped to avoid any further discussions of this entire event. 

You should’ve known better. 

“You do know we need to talk about this, right?” Sam asked softly. 

“Do we?” you asked in return, staring up at the ceiling. 

He sighed, and soon after you felt the end of your bed dip under his weight. “I meant what I said. You scared the hell out of us.” 

“I didn’t mean to,” you said meekly, keeping your eyes trained on the stain above your head. 

“I know that,” he said calmly. “I’m sure Dean does, too, but-” 

“Does he?” you cut in incredulously. 

Sam sighed again, falling silent as he weighed his response in his head. “Yes. C’mon, you know Dean - hell, probably even better than I do. He was more scared than he was angry, and I think you know that.” 

“Well you were scared, too, weren’t you?” you asked, finally turning your gaze to his. “You didn’t try ripping my head off.” 

“That’s because my biggest fear didn’t almost become reality tonight,” he said simply, giving you a look as though you should understand; which, you didn’t. 

“What?” 

“Look,” Sam started, carding his fingers through his hair. “Death is part of the job, right? We all know it’s the risk we take with this life. But you… if I’m being honest, I don’t even know what the hell I’d do if I ever lost you; you’re my best friend, the annoying little sister I never had, and I love you. But Dean… him losing you… I don’t know if he could ever come back from that.”

You stared at him carefully, his words echoing in your head as you searched his face for any insincerity - you didn’t really know what to say once you found no trace. 

“I’d like to get some rest, if that’s okay,” you finally settled on. 

Sam smiled sadly, knowing you didn’t believe him. “Sure,” he agreed, squeezing your calf affectionately before standing up. “I’ll check on you in a few hours, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nodded, tucking the sheets up under your chin. “Night, Sammy.” 

“G’night,” he responded gently, quietly getting himself ready for bed as well.

It was torture. Pure, never ending torture. 

You had been laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, for hours, unable to sleep a wink. 

Not only was your mind still reeling from your fight with Dean, but you weren’t able to get comfortable; the stitches in your side pulled every time you shifted positions, sending a new wave of pain through you that even the painkillers you swallowed down earlier did little to conceal. 

Letting out an irritated huff, you tossed the covers off and slid from the bed to search the dark for your shoes, doing your best to not wake Sam - all you wanted was some fresh air, and you didn’t want to deal with his questions or insistence he go with you. 

After shrugging on a flannel that Dean had left in his haste to get away from you, you carefully slipped from the room and did your best to make sure the door shut silently in your wake. 

“Running away?” came a voice from behind you, making you jump out of your skin as you whirled around. 

You came face to face with Dean, who was leaning against the trunk of his beloved car, one hand shoved deep in his jacket pocket and the other holding a can of beer. The moonlight cut through the darkness, mingling with the fluorescent and neon lights to cast an otherworldly glow upon his face. 

“Why?” you asked tightly, folding your arms over yourself. “Hoping you won’t have to deal with my stupidity anymore?” 

You may as well have slapped him for the way your words made him flinch, and he fixed his gaze on the can in his hand. “You know that’s not how I meant any of it,” he muttered guiltily. 

All you could do was scoff, biting back your snippy response in the hopes of trying to avoid another blow out. 

“Why are you out here?” you asked after a few moments of silence. “Thought you got your own room.” 

Dean shrugged, chugging down some beer before jerking a thumb in the direction of the upper level. “I asked for one, but all they had was one up in the corner.” 

“What, too many stairs?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He shook his head, falling silent as he stared at the puddle by his feet. “Just… too far away.” 

“From?” you asked, taking a few steps to lean against the closest pillar. 

By the sigh he let out, you could tell he didn’t want to answer, yet after a small stretch of silence he finally looked up to meet your gaze. “You.” 

“What, not mad at me anymore, then?” you questioned, hoping to mend this bridge. 

“Oh, no. I’m still fucking pissed,” he instantly admitted. 

“Right, well, spare the lecture this time,” you replied with a scoff. 

“You just don’t get it, do you?” he snapped, setting his can down on the trunk. 

“You wanna know what I don’t get, Dean?” you quipped, glaring at him. “Have you always thought I was such an incompetent hunter, or did your opinion of me just suddenly change?” 

“That is not-” he started to argue, before taking a calming breath. “That is not what I think,” he finished, more quiet this time. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered with a roll of your eyes. 

“Okay, you wanna know how I see it?” he asked, shifting his stance a little straighter. 

When all you did was meet his gaze with your own look of determination, he carried on. 

“You almost died!” he said adamantly. 

“No, I didn’t!” you denied, throwing up your hands in exasperation. 

“Well you may as well have!” he yelled, palm slamming down on Baby’s exterior in an outburst of rage. “You disappeared! You disappeared, and I couldn’t find you, and when I did-... I mean what else was I supposed to think, huh? I find you on your damn knees, covered in your own blood, and I can’t even see how bad it is because we’re literally out there in the fucking dark. So you know what? As far as I’m concerned, in that moment, you did almost die.” 

Stunned into silence by the intensity of his words, all you could do was watch the storm of fear and fury dance behind his eyes before he turned away. 

“I thought I was gonna have to watch you die,” he muttered, choking on his words as he braced his hands on the car to steady himself. 

“I-” you tried to speak, but all words failed you at that moment. 

“And I know, okay?” he carried on desperately. “I know that this job, this life… that’s the risk. And me? Hell, if I go, I go, I can make peace with that. But I’ll be damned if I get to keep on living and you don’t. I’ll be damned, if I have to sit there and watch you die.” 

“Dean-” you tried again, feeling like an idiot for not being able to form a proper response. 

“Look, I- I overreacted okay? It’s what I do, I know that, but-” Dean cut himself off with a sigh, quickly wiping at his eyes before the tears had a chance to appear. “I can’t- I can’t handle the idea of facing a world without you in it.” 

“You’ve… I mean, I don’t understand,” you admitted with a chuckle of disbelief. “I’ve been hurt before.” 

“Trust me, I know,” he sighed, finally returning to sit against the rear end as he fixated on the ground before him. 

“So… what made it so different this time?” you hesitantly asked. 

Dean’s gaze slowly lifted from his boots to your face, and the look he gave you was one you’ve never seen before. He held your gaze as he stood tall, easily closing the space between you two with just a few steps. He reached out to carefully brush your hair away from the gash on your head, tucking the strands behind your ear. Your breath hitched as his fingers gently traced your skin, his touch lingering as he examined your wound. 

“Guess I just reached my breaking point,” he whispered, letting his palm rest against your cheek. 

“What does that mean?” you found the courage to ask. 

“You know what it means,” he replied, reluctantly pulling his hand away. 

“Say it anyway,” you pleaded, heart hammering in your chest as you fought to steady your breathing. 

He shook his head, averting his gaze as he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I don’t think I can.” 

“I know you can,” you encouraged, trying your best to catch his gaze. 

He closed his eyes as if to brace himself for what he was about to say, yet he only stayed silent. When the silence began to stretch on into minutes, you knew it was time to give up. 

“Okay,” you concluded, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in your chest from the jagged edges of your now broken heart. “Have a good night, De.” 

He let you turn away from him. He let you walk the few feet to your motel room door, but he couldn’t let you go back inside. Despite being an irreligious man, your name fell from his lips like a prayer, stopping you as you grasped the door handle

“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I even care to admit,” he confessed. “Yeah, maybe I went a little crazy earlier, but you know what? You make me crazy. The idea of losing you makes me crazy. The fact that you’re selfless enough to risk your life so easily makes me crazy. I can apologize for the way I handled it, for the things I said, but I will not apologize for being scared about losing you, okay? I just won’t.” 

“Dean,” you found yourself saying once more, feeling like you were moving in slow motion as you returned to stand before him. 

“Never thought I’d actually tell you that,” he announced, letting out a nervous chuckle as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I get it if you don’t-” 

“I love you, too,” you admitted quietly, cutting him off. 

“What?” he asked, blinking in shock. 

“You aren’t the only one who’s been harbouring that secret,” you told him, laughing softly. 

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but it was Sam’s voice that called out first. 

“Hey, I’m really happy for you guys and all… but could you just, like, shut up and kiss already or something? I’m actually trying to sleep in here.” 

It took you a few seconds to realize he was calling out from inside your room, and the realization that he likely heard the entire conversation caused laughter to bubble up from your chest and burst from your mouth. The sound was only short- lived as Dean captured your lips with his, rendering you quiet with a searing kiss that made you so weak in the knees you would’ve crumpled had he not been holding you.

You wanted to kiss him forever. You wanted to stay here with his lips on yours, his large hands framing your face as your small ones rested on his chest, for the rest of your life; and you would have, had the burning in your lungs not forced you to pull away for a proper breath.

He refused to let you go, pulling you in close as he rested his forehead against yours. You wished time and space would cease to exist as you stood in his embrace, slowly catching your breath; though as far as you were concerned, the two of you were the only ones to exist in this moment.

“Wait, hold on,” he said, pulling back to look at you, dancing his gaze between you and the door to your room. “Has he been in there this entire time?”

“Ever since you left, yeah,” you told him, a little confused by his sudden question.

“So his room’s been empty?” he asked, a little annoyed.

“Uh- yes?”

“So you’re telling me I’ve been standing out for hours, looking like a creep and getting drizzled on, when I could’ve been using his room?” he questioned.

A laugh escaped your lips without you meaning it to, but the longer you took in his annoyed expression the more giggles you let out.

“Well, it’s your own fault for storming out,” you told him with a laugh.

He rolled his eyes as you carried on laughing, shaking his head as he let you go. “The things I do for you,” he muttered under his breath as he checked the door next to yours.

“Aw c’mon, you’ve had to do worse while on stakeouts,” you pointed out, watching as he swung the door open to Sam’s former room. “Although, I’m not usually the one you’re watching - wait, or am I?” you added playfully, grinning mischievously.

“Just shut up and get in here,” he sighed, holding his hand out to you as he fought off a smile; though the twitch in the corners of his mouth gave him away.

You made your way over to him, ready to take his hand in yours as you continued to tease him. “Can’t help but notice you didn’t say no.”

He rolled his eyes once more, clasping your hand and pulling you into the room so swiftly you let out a squeak of surprise. “You,” he said, kicking the door shut as he took your face between his palms. “Are a pain in my ass.”

You grinned, placing your hands on his wrists. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

“Yeah,” he said softly, running his thumbs across your cheeks. “I really do.”

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