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reidmarieprentiss · 3 months ago

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Lost & Found

Summary: You suffer memory loss after an accident, only remembering your sister, Emily, and not your boyfriend, Spencer.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: car accident, depressive thoughts, fighting, crying, memory loss, struggling with memory loss, showering together, suggestive content (16+), use of Y/N

Word count: 19.6k

a/n: this reminds me of the vow lol my bad but i already wrote it sooo

main masterlist

The sun had just begun to rise over Washington, D.C., casting long shadows across the bustling streets. You were driving to work, your thoughts on the day ahead, when the unthinkable happened. Out of nowhere, a semi-truck barreled down the road, its brakes screaming in protest, unable to halt its deadly path. There was no time to react. The world slowed as the massive vehicle collided with the driver’s side of your car, the sound of metal crunching filling the air like a thunderclap.

—

Spencer Reid sat in a sterile conference room, surrounded by maps and case files in a small town in Missouri. He was miles away from home, yet his mind kept drifting back to you. It had been a little over two years since you and Spencer began dating, and in that time, he had come to rely on your comforting presence. Even though he was away, the two of you made it a point to call each other whenever possible, exchanging stories about your days and sharing a few jokes. Today, he hadn’t heard from you yet, and a nagging feeling tugged at the back of his mind.

The shrill ring of his phone jolted Spencer out of his thoughts. Hotch was in mid-sentence when Spencer abruptly stood up, excusing himself from the meeting as he glanced down at the caller ID and recognized your best friend’s name.

“Hey, Spencer! Sorry for calling so early, I just wanted to ask if you knew what Y/N would like for her birthday dinner!” they chirped, their voice a bit muffled from what sounded like some activity in the background. “She’s so picky, you know! Maybe we could make a surprise for her?”

“I...I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to her yet today,” Spencer admitted, his voice nearly shaking. “But she loves Italian food, maybe pasta?”

“Oh, of course! I’ll start with that, then. Thanks, Spencer!” they replied before hanging up, oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

The call left Spencer feeling hollow, a growing sense of dread gnawing at him. He sank back into his chair, his mind reeling. Moments later, his phone rang again, and he picked it up without even glancing at the screen. This time, the voice on the other end was urgent and frantic, and Spencer’s heart sank as he listened.

"Hello?" he said, trying to keep his voice steady, though the room was still buzzing around him.

“Spencer Reid?” a calm, authoritative voice inquired on the other end.

“Yes, this is he,” Spencer replied, straightening up slightly as he recognized the tone of someone delivering important information.

“This is St. Agnes Hospital in Washington, D.C.," the voice continued. "I’m calling about Y/N L/N.”

Spencer's heart skipped a beat. The mention of your name brought everything else to a halt, and he felt a wave of apprehension wash over him.

“She has been in an accident,” the voice said, and Spencer could hear the weight behind those words. “You are listed as her emergency contact, how soon can you get here?”

He froze, unable to process the words as they echoed in his mind. “An accident?” he finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper. "What happened?"

“There was a collision with a semi-truck,” the hospital staffer explained, their voice professional yet tinged with compassion. “Y/N was seriously injured. She’s currently in surgery, but it’s critical.”

Spencer's mind raced, each word like a punch to his gut. “Is she—” he started, his voice breaking. “Is she going to be okay?”

“We’re doing everything we can, Dr. Reid,” the worker reassured him gently. “But you should get here as soon as you can.”

He nodded, though the person on the other end couldn't see him, trying to gather his thoughts through the haze of shock. The room around him felt surreal, the voices of his colleagues fading into the background.

“Thank you,” Spencer managed to say, his voice shaky with barely restrained panic. “I’m on my way from Missouri, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

As he ended the call, Spencer abruptly returned, shoes pounding against the floor. His teammates noticed the sudden change in his demeanor, their conversations pausing as they turned to him with concern.

“Spencer?” Emily asked, noticing the ashen look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Y/N,” Spencer said, his voice tight with urgency. “There’s been an accident. I need to get home.”

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed his things, already planning his route to the nearest airport in his head. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the urgency to be by your side, to hold your hand, to be there when you needed him most.

“We’ll cover things here,” Hotch assured him, stepping forward. “Go.”

“Thanks,” Spencer replied, his voice holding gratitude and desperation. He turned to leave, his thoughts solely focused on getting back to you, hoping with every fiber of his being that he wouldn’t be too late.

—

Spencer couldn’t remember the flight home. The moments blurred together as his mind replayed the words over and over: life support, coma, severe accident. They echoed in his head, refusing to let him think of anything else. His team had rallied around him, offering words of support and handling the details to get him back as quickly as possible.

As the plane touched down in Washington, Spencer felt the full weight of the situation crashing down on him. His legs trembled as he stood, a numbness spreading through his body as he made his way through the terminal.

The hospital was a short drive away, and yet it felt like an eternity. He barely registered the buildings and streets flashing by as he sat in the back seat of a cab, his heart pounding with each passing moment.

Finally, he arrived at the hospital, a large, imposing building that now seemed more like a fortress. Spencer rushed through the doors, barely acknowledging the bustling activity around him as he focused solely on reaching you. He navigated the maze of hallways with a determination that surprised even him, eventually finding his way to the ICU.

Your room was sterile and filled with the rhythmic beeping of machines, each sound a stark reminder of your fragile condition. Spencer stopped short at the sight of you lying in the hospital bed, tubes and wires snaking across your body. His heart wrenched at the sight, a profound ache settling in his chest as he slowly approached.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

He took a shaky breath, feeling the enormity of the situation press down on him. He felt helpless, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest with the assistance of the ventilator, knowing there was nothing he could do to change what had happened.

Spencer reached out, his hand trembling as he gently took yours. The warmth of your skin was a small comfort, a reminder that you were still there, still fighting.

“I’m here,” he said softly, his voice breaking as he spoke. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. Please, Y/N... please come back to me.”

The room was silent except for the steady hum of the machines, and Spencer felt a tear slide down his cheek. He brushed it away, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

—

The hours that followed were a blur. Spencer sat by your side, his hand never leaving yours as he kept a silent vigil. The nurses and doctors came and went, their words and actions a distant murmur as Spencer focused solely on you. He remembered snippets of conversations, assurances that you were receiving the best care possible, and updates on your condition that offered little comfort.

In those moments, Spencer clung to hope. He recalled all the times you had smiled at him, the way your eyes lit up when you were excited or passionate about something. He remembered the quiet moments you shared, the laughter and love that had blossomed between you over the past years.

—

Three Days Later

Spencer hadn’t left the hospital since he arrived. The team had been by his side, offering support and keeping him company, but he barely registered their presence. All that mattered was you, and the hope that you would wake up and return to him.

On the third day, the doctor came in with a more hopeful expression than before. He checked the monitors, made some notes, and then turned to Spencer with a small smile.

“There’s been some improvement,” he said gently. “It’s a good sign. We’re going to try reducing the sedation and see how she responds.”

Spencer felt a flicker of hope at the words, his heart clenching with a mix of anticipation and fear. He nodded, unable to trust his voice as he watched the doctor adjust the IV line. They assured him they would keep him informed as soon as your surgery was complete and directed him to the waiting area, where he could collect himself while waiting for more information.

Spencer made his way to the waiting room, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. Memories of you together flooded his mind: the quiet evenings spent curled up on the couch, the laughter shared over inside jokes, and the whispered promises of a future together. He sat down, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him, wondering what the next few hours would bring.

—

The hours stretched on interminably, each tick of the clock echoing loudly in Spencer's ears as he waited in the sterile waiting room. He couldn't bring himself to focus on anything other than the thought of you, lying in surgery, fighting for your life. The antiseptic smell of the hospital, the murmur of other patients and visitors, all faded into the background as he replayed every memory he had of you in his mind, trying to cling to the hope that you would pull through.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a doctor approached Spencer with a solemn expression. "Dr. Reid?" the doctor asked, and Spencer quickly stood, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Yes, that's me," Spencer replied, his voice fullof hope and anxiety.

"The surgery was successful," the doctor said, offering a small, reassuring smile. "We were able to stabilize her, and she's currently in the ICU under observation."

Spencer felt a rush of relief wash over him, though the gravity of the situation was still heavy on his shoulders. "Thank you," he said sincerely, his voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you so much."

The doctor nodded, understanding the depth of Spencer's gratitude. "She's not out of the woods yet," the doctor continued, "but she's made it through the worst part. However, I need to prepare you for the possibility that there may be complications. We won't know the full extent until she regains consciousness."

Spencer nodded, taking in the doctor's words with a mix of relief and apprehension. He felt his breath catch in his throat, knowing that there was still a long road ahead, but grateful for the chance to be by your side as you began to recover.

—

You pulled through, but it wasn't without its challenges. When you finally awoke, the room was filled with the soft beeping of monitors and the faint hum of medical equipment. Everything felt disorienting as you blinked against the harsh fluorescent lights, trying to make sense of where you were and what had happened.

Spencer was at your side, his eyes filled with relief and worry as he watched you stir. He reached out to take your hand, squeezing it gently in reassurance. "Y/N," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "You're awake."

You turned your head slightly, trying to focus on the man before you. He looked somewhat familiar, yet your mind struggled to place him. The last thing you remembered was being 18, living with your sister Emily, and yet here you were, in a hospital bed, with a stranger by your side.

"Who are you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of uncertainty.

Spencer felt his heart drop at your words, a painful realization settling in. He had hoped that when you woke up, everything would be back to normal, that you would go back to the life you had built together. But the look of confusion and fear in your eyes told him everything he needed to know.

"I'm Spencer," he said gently, trying to keep his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I'm your boyfriend. We've been together for over two years. You live with me."

You shook your head slowly, trying to wrap your mind around his words. It felt like a dream, a reality you couldn't quite grasp. "No," you said, your voice breaking with frustration and fear. "I live with my sister, Emily. I don't know you."

Spencer felt a wave of sadness wash over him, but he forced himself to stay strong for you. He knew this was a possibility, that the trauma of the accident could have affected your memory, but hearing it from you was a different reality altogether. He took a deep breath, his heart aching with every word he prepared to say.

“Um, no. I—I don’t know how to tell you this, but, uh…” Spencer tried to speak through the tears coming on, his voice trembling. “You are 25 years old, Emily is 38, and you work as a liaison for the Sex Crimes Unit in the FBI. Emily and I work together in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We met through Emily, and now you live with me. You were in a severe car accident three days ago, and you may be suffering from amnesia.”

His words hung in the air like a cloud, heavy and dense, as you struggled to process what he was telling you. The hospital room felt colder, the sterile smell more pronounced, as your mind tried to catch up with the information being presented to you. Everything he said felt distant and unfamiliar, like a story someone else was telling, not your own life.

“Amnesia?” you repeated, the word foreign on your tongue. You could feel panic beginning to rise in your chest, the fear of the unknown pressing down on you. “How is this possible? I—I don’t remember any of this.”

Spencer’s heart broke at the fear in your eyes, and he longed to reach out and comfort you. But he knew that, to you, he was a stranger, someone who claimed to know you but didn’t feel real. He had to tread carefully, to give you space to process the situation at your own pace.

“It’s okay,” Spencer said softly, his eyes filled with compassion. “I know this is a lot to take in. You’ve been through so much, and I’m here for you. We can take this one step at a time. Whatever you need, I’m here to help.”

You looked at him, studying his face for any sign of deception or recognition, but all you saw was sincerity. It was both comforting and unsettling. Here was a man who seemed to care deeply for you, yet you couldn’t find a single memory to support his claims. It was like standing at the edge of a vast, unknown ocean, unsure whether to step forward or retreat.

“I just... I don’t understand how I got here,” you said, your voice small and uncertain, the edges of panic sharpening your words. Your eyes filled with tears as you grappled with the enormity of your situation. “Where’s Emily? I want to see Emily,” you added, the tears now spilling over, and you could feel your chest tighten with fear and helplessness.

Spencer felt a painful twist in his heart as he watched you cry, the sight of your distress cutting through him like a knife. He knew how much you relied on Emily before, but he had been your rock these past years. To not be able to comfort you in your time of need tore him apart. Despite the situation, he felt a glimmer of relief that you still remembered your sister, a familiar anchor in a sea of unfamiliar faces and places.

“She’s at home sleeping. I’ll give her a call,” Spencer assured you, reaching for his phone with a steady hand, though inside he felt anything but calm. He wanted to be the one to comfort you, to hold you and tell you that everything would be okay, but he understood that right now, Emily was the person you needed most.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. You wiped at your tears, feeling both grateful and overwhelmed by the kindness of this man who seemed so determined to help you, even though you couldn’t remember him.

Spencer stepped out into the hallway to make the call, wanting to give you a moment of privacy. The hospital corridor was quiet, save for the distant murmur of medical staff and the occasional beep of machinery. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before dialing Emily’s number.

“Spencer?” Emily’s voice was groggy but instantly alert as she answered the call, concern evident in her tone. “Is everything okay? How’s Y/N?”

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “Emily, she’s awake,” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “But she doesn’t remember anything from the past seven years. She thinks she’s still living with you.”

“Oh my God,” Emily breathed, the shock clear in her voice. “Is she okay? What did the doctors say?”

“They think it’s retrograde amnesia caused by the trauma of the accident,” Spencer explained, running a hand through his hair as he spoke. “She’s asking for you, Emily. She’s really scared.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Emily promised, already moving to get dressed. “Tell her I’m on my way, okay? And Spencer... thank you for being there with her. I know this must be incredibly hard for you.”

Spencer nodded, even though Emily couldn’t see him. “I’ll tell her. Drive safely.”

After ending the call, Spencer returned to your room, his heart heavy with the knowledge of how disorienting this must be for you. He found you sitting up slightly, your eyes still red from crying but showing a flicker of hope at the mention of your sister.

“Emily’s on her way,” Spencer said gently, offering you a small, reassuring smile. “She should be here soon.”

You nodded, the knowledge that Emily was coming bringing you a semblance of comfort. But still, questions swirled in your mind, the uncertainty of your situation looming large.

"Thank you, um, what was your name again?" you asked softly, your voice hesitant and tinged with the confusion that clouded your mind.

Spencer’s heart ached at the question, a painful reminder of the gap that now existed between you. But he managed a gentle smile, determined to be patient and understanding.

“Spencer,” he said quietly, meeting your gaze with a steady warmth. “My name is Spencer.”

You nodded slowly, trying to commit his name to memory, even though it felt like grasping at straws. There was something comforting about the way he looked at you, a sense of safety that you couldn’t quite explain.

“Thank you, Spencer,” you repeated, hoping that saying his name would help anchor you in this unfamiliar reality. Despite the overwhelming uncertainty, you felt a small sense of reassurance knowing he was there, a steady presence in the storm of your fractured memories.

—

Emily arrived at the hospital within the hour, her eyes filled with concern and determination as she made her way to your room. When she saw you, relief flooded her features, and she rushed to your side, wrapping her arms around you in a warm, reassuring embrace.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Emily murmured, holding you tightly as she stroked your hair. “I’m here, Y/N. We’ll figure this out together.”

You clung to her, the familiar comfort of her presence grounding you in the midst of the chaos. For the first time since waking up, you felt a sense of safety, a reminder of the life you remembered.

Spencer watched the reunion, his heart aching with a mixture of emotions. He was grateful that Emily was there for you, knowing how much you needed her support right now. But there was also a longing, a deep-seated hope that one day, you would remember the life you had built with him, the love that had grown between you.

As you leaned into Emily's embrace, you whispered, “Can you stay with me, please?” Your voice was soft, almost childlike in its vulnerability, and Spencer’s heart clenched at the sound of it.

Emily smiled gently, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face as she nodded. “Of course, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here,” she said, guilt tinging her words. “I came as soon as I heard.”

“It’s okay,” you replied, offering her a small, reassuring smile. “Peter is really nice.”

The misstep in Spencer's name hit him like a physical blow, and yet he understood. You were trying your best to piece things together, to make sense of the world around you, and that meant trying to fit him into a picture that didn’t quite match the reality you remembered.

Emily glanced at Spencer, a flicker of understanding in her eyes as she gave him a supportive nod. She knew how hard this must be for him, watching you struggle to recall the love and life you shared.

Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing himself to return Emily’s nod with a small, grateful smile. He knew that rebuilding the bridge to your past wouldn’t be easy, but he was willing to do whatever it took to help you find your way back.

He remained quiet, a gentle presence in the background as Emily continued to comfort you, knowing that while he might not be the one you remembered now, he would do everything in his power to be the one you’d remember in the future.

—

Spencer eventually went home, the weight of the last few days pressing heavily on his shoulders. The hospital had become a second home in the wake of the accident, but now, as he drove through the familiar streets of Quantico, he felt the exhaustion finally catch up with him.

The apartment was quiet when he arrived, the silence amplifying the absence of your presence. He dropped his bag by the door and stood in the entryway for a moment, looking around the space that had been your shared sanctuary. Everything about it—the framed photos, the little touches that marked your shared life—felt like an echo of the past he was desperate to help you remember.

He made his way to the bathroom, shedding his clothes and stepping into the shower. The hot water cascaded over him, washing away the grime and fatigue, but doing little to ease the turmoil inside. As the steam filled the room, Spencer closed his eyes, allowing the water to drown out the noise in his head for just a moment.

He thought about you, lying in that hospital bed, trying to piece together a life you couldn’t remember. The thought of your struggle weighed heavily on him, and he wished more than anything that he could simply take away the burden of your amnesia. But he knew that wasn’t possible, and it frustrated him deeply.

Stepping out of the shower, Spencer wrapped a towel around his waist and caught his reflection in the mirror. The face staring back at him was etched with worry and sleepless nights. He knew he needed to rest, to recharge so he could be strong for you, but his mind was already racing with possibilities, with ways to help you find your way back to the life you had known.

Reluctantly, he made his way to the bedroom and sank into the mattress, pulling the covers over himself.

—

When Spencer awoke, the morning light was filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. He stretched, feeling the knots in his muscles protest at the movement, but he pushed through, determined to make the most of the day ahead.

His mind immediately returned to you and the questions that had haunted him since the accident. He needed answers, a plan, something tangible he could use to help you. Rising from the bed, he quickly dressed and made his way to the library, his thoughts already churning with possibilities.

The library was quiet, a haven of knowledge waiting to be tapped into. Spencer made his way through the aisles, pulling books from the shelves with practiced ease. He found volumes on neurology, psychology, and memory restoration, stacking them on the table as he prepared to dive deep into his research.

Sitting down, Spencer opened the first book, his fingers flipping through the pages with the kind of fervor only a man on a mission possessed. He absorbed every word, every study and theory on amnesia and retrograde amnesia, searching for anything that might provide a glimmer of hope.

He read about the mechanisms of memory, the ways trauma could affect the brain's ability to store and retrieve information. He learned about the potential for memory recovery, the techniques that could aid in jogging the mind back to the present, and the importance of emotional connections in bridging the gaps.

As the hours passed, Spencer lost himself in the sea of information, each new piece of knowledge building upon the last. He scribbled notes in the margins, cross-referencing studies and compiling a mental list of strategies he could employ to help you.

It was a daunting task, but Spencer felt a sense of purpose in the research, a way to channel his love for you into something tangible. He was determined to do everything he could to help you regain your memory, to guide you back to the life you had shared together.

For Spencer, this was more than just a quest for answers—it was a testament to the bond that had grown between you, a bond he was unwilling to let go of. He was ready to fight for your future, to be there for you in whatever capacity you needed, until the day your eyes lit up with recognition and the memories flooded back.

With renewed resolve, Spencer closed the book he was reading, his mind buzzing with ideas and possibilities. He gathered his notes, feeling a sense of determination settle over him. He would be there for you, no matter how long it took, until you found your way back to him.

—

Spencer called Emily, feeling a slight tremor in his fingers as he punched in her number. He knew how delicate your situation was, and he didn’t want to risk upsetting you with his presence if it would cause more harm than good. As the phone rang, he took a deep breath, hoping that Emily would have some insight into how you were doing and whether it would be okay for him to visit.

“Hello?” Emily’s voice came through the line, sounding calm but tinged with exhaustion.

“Emily, it’s Spencer,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady despite the nervousness fluttering in his chest. “I wanted to check in and see how Y/N is doing... and if it would be alright for me to come back to the hospital. I don’t want to overwhelm her, but I think I might have found some helpful information on memory restoration tactics.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, and Spencer could hear the soft murmur of the hospital in the background, the distant beeps of monitors and the hushed conversations of medical staff. Emily sighed softly, and he could picture her leaning against the wall outside your room, her hand running through her hair as she considered his request.

“Spencer, she’s been asking about you,” Emily finally said, her voice gentle and reassuring. “I think she wants to start trying to piece things together a little, and having you here might actually help.”

The fragments of your past felt like pieces of a puzzle scattered across the table, and you were trying to fit them together. The memory of just having graduated college and moving in with Emily in Europe while she worked for Interpol was clear in your mind, yet the reality you were living in contradicted that memory in every way. You obviously went to college, got an important job, met someone, and fell in love. That would be nice to remember.

The thought of your life now—a life filled with achievements, meaningful relationships, and moments of joy—was enticing. You felt a sense of longing to reconnect with those parts of yourself, to remember the paths that led you to where you were today. The idea of having accomplished so much, of having people in your life who cared deeply for you, filled you with both curiosity and determination.

You sat in the hospital bed, the beeping of the monitors a constant reminder of the present, and tried to reconcile the gap between what you knew and what was real. There was a sense of urgency within you, a desire to reclaim the life that had slipped through your fingers due to the accident.

As you contemplated this, Spencer arrived, a reassuring presence amidst the confusion. He had a folder in hand, filled with information he’d painstakingly gathered to aid in your recovery. His expression was one of quiet resolve, a testament to his commitment to helping you find your way back.

“Hey, Y/N,” Spencer greeted softly, taking a seat beside your bed. His eyes were warm and encouraging, and you couldn’t help but feel comforted by his presence. “I know this is a lot to take in, but I’ve found some information that might help you remember.”

You nodded, eager to hear what he had discovered. The prospect of understanding more about your life, your achievements, and the connection you shared with Spencer filled you with hope.

Spencer opened the folder, revealing a collection of notes, articles, and studies on memory restoration and retrograde amnesia. “I’ve been looking into different techniques and therapies that could aid in restoring your memories,” he explained, his voice steady and full of purpose.

He began to outline the various strategies he had found, discussing everything from cognitive therapy and memory exercises to more experimental approaches. As he spoke, you listened intently, absorbing the possibilities and feeling a flicker of determination ignite within you.

“I believe that with the right approach and support, we can hopefully help you piece together your memories,” Spencer said, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering sincerity. “I’m here to support you in whatever way you need. We can do this together, one step at a time.”

His words resonated with you, and you found yourself nodding along, feeling a renewed sense of hope. The idea of reclaiming your memories, of rediscovering the life you had built, felt like a light at the end of a long tunnel.

“Thank you, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice filled with gratitude. “I want to remember.”

—

The hospital released you into Emily’s care. While the medical staff had done everything they could, the journey to regaining your memory would continue outside the hospital walls.

The decision to stay with Emily instead of Spencer hurt him, but it felt like the right choice for now. As much as Spencer wanted to be there for you, he understood the need for you to be in an environment that felt familiar and safe. The last thing he wanted was to push you further away by overwhelming you with too much, too soon.

“It’s okay,” Spencer assured you as you prepared to leave the hospital. His voice was steady, but the flicker of pain in his eyes was unmistakable. “I understand. Emily will take good care of you, and I’m just a phone call away if you need anything.”

You nodded, appreciating his understanding. A part of you felt guilty for not choosing to stay with him, especially considering how kind and supportive he had been. But the gaps in your memory left you feeling adrift, and being with Emily was like holding onto a piece of your past that still made sense. Besides, he was still technically a stranger.

—

The drive to yours and Spencer’s apartment was quiet, Emily navigating the streets with the ease of someone who knew them well. You sat in the passenger seat, watching the city pass by, anticipation and apprehension swirling within you. This was a chance to see the life you had built, to find clues that might help bridge the chasm between the past you remembered and the present you couldn’t grasp.

Arriving at the apartment building, you felt a sense of déjà vu, as if you had been here countless times before, but it was all shrouded in fog. Emily led you up to the front door, her presence reassuring and calm as she unlocked it and gestured for you to step inside.

The apartment was warm and inviting, filled with little touches that spoke of a life shared between two people. You took a tentative step inside, your eyes scanning the space as you tried to grasp any spark of recognition. The furniture, the décor, the scent of your favorite candle burning on the coffee table—everything felt just out of reach.

But it was the photographs that caught your attention, lining the walls and filling the shelves with captured moments of happiness and love. You walked over to a series of framed photos, your heart aching at the sight of the images. There you were, smiling and laughing with Spencer, your faces filled with joy.

There was a picture of the two of you on a hiking trip, arms around each other as you gazed at the camera, the sun setting behind you. Another of you dancing together at what appeared to be a wedding, Spencer’s hand on the small of your back, your face lit with laughter.

And then there was the one that brought tears to your eyes—an image of you and Spencer sharing a tender kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck, his hand gently holding your waist while the other stretched out to hold the camera. The love captured in that single moment was undeniable, and yet it was a memory you couldn’t access, a chapter of your life that felt painfully distant.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as the weight of what you had lost settled over you. You turned away from the photos, covering your face with your hands as sobs wracked your body. The sadness was overwhelming, a deep, unbearable grief for the beautiful life you couldn’t remember.

Emily was at your side in an instant, her arm wrapping around you as she whispered soothing words, trying to calm the storm of emotions that had taken hold.

“I’m so sorry,” you cried, your voice breaking with the depth of your sorrow. “I’m so sorry, Spencer. I wish I could remember. I wish I could—”

Spencer’s expression was filled with compassion and understanding, though his heart ached at the sight of your distress. He longed to reach out and hold you, to reassure you that it was okay, that you would find your way back to him in time. But he knew that the memories were something you had to reclaim on your own.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Spencer said gently, his voice soft and comforting. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

Despite his reassuring words, the pain of not being able to remember was too much to bear. You were inconsolable, and Emily could see that you needed space to process everything, away from the emotional overload of the apartment.

“Let’s go home, Y/N,” Emily suggested softly, guiding you toward the door with a gentle touch. “We can come back another time when you’re ready.”

You nodded, allowing her to lead you away, the tears still streaming down your face. Spencer watched as Emily escorted you out, his heart heavy with sadness.

—

The following Monday, the next step in your recovery journey was to visit your workplace, a place where you had spent countless hours building a career you could no longer remember. The decision to bring you back into the office was made with the hope that it might jog some of your lost memories, and while it felt daunting, you were determined to face it head-on.

Emily drove you to the FBI headquarters, the massive building both imposing and familiar as you approached. You had been nervous about this visit, unsure of how it would make you feel or what it might stir within you. Your unit chief had been extremely understanding about your situation, assuring you that you had all the time you needed to recover and that your job would be waiting for you if and when you were ready to return. The possibility of never coming back loomed large, but today was about exploring what felt right.

As you walked through the corridors, passing colleagues who greeted you with warm smiles and words of encouragement, you felt a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. The familiarity of the surroundings tugged at the edges of your mind, teasing you with whispers of recognition that were just out of reach.

When you finally reached your desk, something shifted within you. A small sense of familiarity washed over you, grounding you in a way that you hadn't expected. The space was uniquely yours, decorated with personal touches that reflected your personality and interests. The colorful keyboard and mouse pad, the photos adorning your workspace, all felt like pieces of yourself that you were slowly rediscovering.

Emily stood beside you, watching as you took it all in. Her presence was reassuring, a steady hand on your shoulder as you navigated the myriad of emotions swirling within you.

"This is your desk," Emily said gently, gesturing to the array of decorations and mementos that made it uniquely yours.

You ran your fingers over the keyboard, tracing the familiar keys, and then turned your attention to the photos. There were images of you and Emily from your first apartment together in D.C., snapshots of a time when life felt full of possibility and adventure. Your eyes lingered on the photos of you and Spencer, capturing moments of joy and love that you desperately wished to remember.

One photo, in particular, caught your eye. It was of you and another person, both of you with wide smiles, arms wrapped tightly around each other, faces pressed together in a display of friendship and affection. The bond between you was evident, even in a still image, and you felt a pang of longing to recall the memories associated with it.

“Who are all of these people?” you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of sadness.

Emily leaned in, pointing to the photo of you and the person who seemed to be a close friend. “That is your best friend, Noah,” she explained. Her smile was warm, the fondness for your friendship evident in her tone. “You two have been inseparable for years. They’ve been by your side through thick and thin.”

You studied the photo, trying to summon any fragment of memory, but the connection eluded you. Still, it was comforting to know that you had someone like Noah in your life, a constant presence of support and friendship.

Emily then pointed to another photo, this one featuring a large group of people gathered in a spacious kitchen that looked to be part of a grand mansion. The scene was lively and filled with laughter, the closeness between everyone palpable even in a photograph.

“And that,” Emily said, gesturing to the group photo, “is my team. The Behavioral Analysis Unit, at David Rossi’s house for pasta and wine. It’s a tradition of ours to get together and unwind after a long week. You’ve become a part of that tradition too.”

The photo brought a sense of warmth and belonging that tugged at your heartstrings. Though you couldn’t remember the specifics of the event, the image conveyed a sense of community and acceptance, a reminder that you were surrounded by people who cared for you deeply.

You nodded, feeling a mix of emotions—gratefulness for the connections you had forged, sadness for the memories that remained out of reach, and determination to piece it all together. As overwhelming as it was, the visit to your workplace had sparked something within you, a desire to reclaim the life you had lost and reconnect with the people who meant so much to you.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Emily,” you said softly, turning to your sister with gratitude in your eyes.

Emily smiled, her hand squeezing your shoulder reassuringly. “You’re doing great, Y/N.”

—

After spending some time familiarizing yourself with your desk and the environment, you felt a little more grounded. Emily suggested taking a break, and the two of you made your way to the break room for some coffee. The small talk and casual atmosphere provided a sense of normalcy, and you found yourself relaxing into the environment, even if it still felt like you were seeing it all for the first time.

As you sipped your coffee, Emily shared stories about the team, painting vivid pictures of the friendships that had developed over the years. Her words were filled with warmth, and you could sense the deep bond that connected everyone in the unit.

“–and then you and Penelope performed as much of the Rent musical as you could while Spencer took you home from girls' night.”

You laughed, a joyous feeling after all the sadness and confusion you’d been wearing like a cloud. It felt good to feel lighthearted again, if only for a moment, and the image of yourself belting out show tunes with Penelope at the top of your lungs was both hilarious and comforting.

“Was he mad?” you asked, picturing the scene in your mind.

“Quite the opposite,” Emily said, her eyes twinkling with amusement at the memory. “He asked you out the next week at work.”

“That’s so sweet,” you said, a warm glow spreading through you at the thought of Spencer’s patience and kindness.

“He really loves you,” Emily added, her voice gentle and full of sincerity.

You looked down at your coffee cup, a mix of emotions swirling within you. “I just can’t believe I’m loved so much by someone I don’t remember,” you said softly, your words carrying the weight of your current reality.

Spencer hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but as he was walking to the break room, your voice reached his ears, and he froze just outside the door. The sound of your laughter was like music to him, a familiar melody he had sorely missed since the accident. It felt normal to hear you in the building, like it had been before, a sense of déjà vu that was both comforting and bittersweet.

But hearing that last snippet of conversation—that you couldn’t believe you were loved by someone you didn’t remember—was like a punch to the gut. It was a reminder of how much had been lost, how fragile the threads of your connection had become in the wake of your amnesia.

Spencer’s heart clenched with longing and sadness. He wanted to be there with you, to share in the laughter and help rebuild the life you had once shared. Yet, he also knew that the path to healing was not a straight line and that you needed time to find your footing.

With a heavy heart, Spencer decided against going into the break room. He felt it would be too much to face you right then, knowing that he was part of the gap in your memory. He turned on his heel, heading back to his desk with a resolve to give you the space you needed while still being there for you in whatever way he could.

Back in his office, Spencer tried to focus on his work, but his mind kept drifting back to you and the conversation he had overheard. He wished he could do more, be more, to help you remember. The thought of the love you had shared, a love you now couldn’t recall, weighed heavily on him.

—

Over the next few weeks, life became a series of ups and downs, filled with moments of both clarity and confusion. Living with Emily had its comforting moments—her presence a soothing balm to the chaos in your mind. You cherished the time you spent with her, grateful for the bond that had been rekindled. You missed Emily deeply during high school, and living with her felt like a second chance to reconnect and make up for lost time.

But the reason for your reunion weighed heavily on you. You were so happy to be living with Emily again, until you remembered why. Some nights, the memories—or lack thereof—were overwhelming, and you’d find yourself crying silently into your pillow, grieving for the life you learned about but couldn’t recall. You mourned for the person you once were, the experiences you’d lost, and the love you had built with Spencer, a man who was now a stranger in your life.

In those darker moments, a part of you wondered if a second accident could somehow reverse the damage, though you knew deep down that it wouldn’t work. The thought was fleeting, a desperate whisper in your mind, quickly silenced by the knowledge that the path to healing lay elsewhere.

You wanted to love Spencer, you really did. Everything you’d learned about him painted a picture of a man who was kind, intelligent, and deeply devoted to you. But every time you looked at him, all you felt was a sense of apathy and resentment. It was an unfair burden, one you didn’t want to carry but couldn’t seem to shake. He knew you, but you didn’t know him. He had gotten to know the you that you couldn’t remember, had built a life with a version of yourself that no longer existed.

Safe to say, you hadn’t spoken to anyone but Emily since that day at Spencer’s apartment. Despite Emily’s best efforts to coax you out of your shell, to encourage you to re-engage with the world, you found solace only in her presence. She would suggest small outings, opportunities to reintroduce you to the life you’d lived—a coffee date with Penelope, a lunch with Noah, a casual dinner with the BAU team—but you declined each invitation with a sense of dread.

—

Emily understood your reluctance, though she worried about the isolation you were imposing on yourself. She was patient, never pushing too hard, but she tried her best to gently encourage you to take those first steps toward reconnecting with your life.

"Y/N," she said one afternoon as you both sat in the living room, the afternoon sun streaming through the windows. "I know it’s hard, but you have so many people who care about you. They’re all here, ready to support you whenever you’re ready."

You nodded, your eyes fixed on the floor. “I know,” you replied softly, your voice tinged with frustration and sadness. “I just... I don’t know how to face them, Emily. It’s like they’re expecting me to be someone I’m not.”

Emily reached over, taking your hand in hers, her grip reassuring. “They’re not expecting anything,” she said gently. “They just want to be there for you, to help you find your way back. And you don’t have to do it alone. I’ll be with you.”

Despite her words, the idea of facing Spencer or any of your friends felt daunting. It wasn’t just about remembering; it was about rebuilding a sense of self that had been shattered by the accident. You felt like a puzzle with missing pieces, unsure of how to fit back into the picture of your own life.

—

One night, as you lay in bed, the weight of it all pressed heavily on your chest. You stared at the ceiling, the darkness a mirror to the emptiness you felt inside. The person you were before the accident seemed like a ghost, haunting the edges of your consciousness, taunting you with glimpses of a life you couldn’t quite grasp.

Tears slipped silently down your cheeks as you grieved for the life you’d lost, for the love that was now a distant memory. It felt like an insurmountable chasm between the past and present, a gap you couldn’t bridge no matter how hard you tried.

You curled up under the covers, wishing for relief from the emotional storm, longing for a sense of belonging that remained elusive. But as much as you yearned for the past, you knew the journey to healing had to start from where you were now—from this moment, with its uncertainties and challenges.

Emily found you the next morning, the traces of tears still visible on your face. She didn’t say anything, simply pulled you into a hug, offering her silent support. You leaned into her embrace, grateful for the unconditional love and understanding she provided.

“I’m here, Y/N,” Emily murmured, her voice steady and reassuring. “Whenever you’re ready to take that next step, I’m here.”

—

On a random Tuesday morning, you regained a glimpse of yourself. It was an ordinary day, the sun barely peeking over the horizon as you padded into the kitchen, the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Emily was already there, pouring herself a cup and offering you a warm smile as you entered.

"Good morning," she said, her voice carrying the comforting tone you had come to rely on over the past few weeks.

“Did I bring any files home?” you asked, the question slipping out naturally as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “I want to review the Cooper case.”

Emily whipped around so fast she thought she might get whiplash, her eyes wide with shock and a glimmer of hope. “What did you just say?” she asked, her voice almost trembling with anticipation.

“The Cooper case?” you repeated, frowning slightly as you tried to grasp the memory that felt just within reach. “Oh, I wanted to review the evidence for the upcoming trial. I want to make sure that son of a bitch gets locked away.”

Emily’s face lit up with astonishment and disbelief, a slow grin spreading across her features. “Y/N… how do you remember that?” she asked, her voice tinged with awe.

“What?” you blinked, the realization dawning on you like a gentle wave, the fog lifting ever so slightly. “Oh…” you murmured, the pieces clicking into place.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! I remember!” you exclaimed, your heart pounding with excitement and relief.

“Do you remember anything else?” Emily asked eagerly, stepping closer as if to catch every word.

“My, um, my unit chief… her name is, uh, Sarah Freeman!” you said, a smile breaking across your face as more fragments of memory bubbled to the surface. It was like pulling on a thread and watching a tapestry unfold before your eyes.

“That’s amazing! You’re amazing!” Emily cheered, her eyes shining with pride and joy. She grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly as if to anchor this precious moment in reality. “I’m going to call your doctor! Keep thinking!”

You nodded, your mind racing with possibilities. There was a thrill in the air, a sense of rediscovery that felt like sunlight streaming into a darkened room.

—

As the days and weeks passed, your world gradually came into sharper focus. You began to remember more and more, and your doctors believed that your brain was finally healing from the trauma of the accident, allowing you to access information that had been temporarily locked away. It was as if the fog that had settled over your mind was beginning to lift, and the memories of your life were emerging from the shadows.

With each passing day, you started seeing people more. The familiarity of their faces and the warmth of their presence became less overwhelming and more comforting. You remembered small bits of Noah, moving in with Emily, a few girls’ nights, and coffee dates with Penelope. Each memory was like a small gift, a piece of the puzzle that was slowly coming together.

Whenever you shared a memory with someone, it was met with tears of joy and hugs of relief. They were all so patient and understanding, celebrating every little moment of rediscovery with you. It was a testament to the love and support that surrounded you, a constant reminder that you were not alone on this journey.

—

With your birthday approaching, the excitement in the air was palpable. Everyone was thrilled that they would at least get to celebrate with you, even if the memories of past birthdays were still hazy. The anticipation of the party, the chance to be surrounded by the people who meant so much to you, filled you with a sense of hope and gratitude.

The only person you couldn’t seem to remember, however, was Spencer. Despite the progress you were making with others, there was an inexplicable block when it came to him. It was as if the memories you shared were trapped behind a door that refused to open, no matter how hard you tried.

Spencer felt the weight of this exclusion acutely. While everyone else reveled in your regained memories, he remained on the outside, watching as you reconnected with the life you’d once shared. At first, he tried to be patient, understanding that recovery was a complex and unpredictable process. But as time went on and the memories continued to elude you, Spencer began to feel a growing frustration, a simmering resentment that he struggled to contain.

—

The night of your birthday party arrived, and Emily had invited everyone important to you: the BAU team, Noah, your unit chief, and colleagues. The apartment was filled with laughter and music, the air buzzing with the joy of celebration. You moved through the crowd, receiving hugs and well-wishes, feeling more like yourself than you had in months.

The party was a joyful affair, filled with the warmth of friends and loved ones, each of them eager to share in the celebration of your continued recovery. You spent time with everyone, enjoying the opportunity to catch up and reconnect.

You found yourself talking to Derek Morgan, recounting a small memory that had surfaced earlier in the day—a humorous moment from a case your units had worked on together. Derek’s laughter echoed through the room, a rich, joyful sound that drew the attention of others nearby.

Spencer overheard your conversation with Derek and felt the frustration within him build past his boiling point. It was like a dam breaking, all the emotions he had tried to keep in check spilling over into an overwhelming wave. The exclusion, the constant reminder that you remembered everyone but him, finally pushed him to the edge.

Unable to contain his feelings any longer, Spencer stormed past you, his shoulder bumping into yours as he made his way toward the front door. The suddenness of his actions caught you off guard, the usually sweet and gentle Spencer now a storm of emotions.

“Spencer?” you called after him, confused by the abruptness of his departure. You quickly excused yourself from Derek and followed Spencer, determined to understand what had upset him.

You found Spencer in the hallway of the building, his back turned to you as he tried to compose himself. But when he turned around, you saw the angry tears in his eyes, the hurt etched across his features. It was a side of Spencer you hadn’t seen before, and it unsettled you.

“Spencer, what’s wrong?” you asked, your voice gentle but firm, wanting to understand the source of his pain.

He took a deep breath, his emotions churning within him. The question felt like a catalyst, igniting the frustration and hurt he had been holding onto for so long. And then, finally, he exploded, the words tumbling out in a torrent of anger and anguish.

“Why, Y/N?” Spencer’s voice was raw, filled with desperation and resentment. “Why do you remember everyone but me? Do you secretly remember me but don’t know how to break it off, so you keep pretending you don’t know me?”

His accusation hung in the air, sharp and cutting. It was a blow that took your breath away, the depth of his pain evident in every word. Spencer’s eyes bore into yours, searching for answers, for some explanation that could make sense of the exclusion he felt so deeply.

“I’m not pretending, Spencer,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, the shock of his words settling over you like a heavy fog. “I wish I could remember. I want to remember you more than anything.”

Spencer’s expression shifted, hurt and frustration warring within him. He turned away, running a hand through his hair as he tried to gather his thoughts. “It just feels like... like I’m the only one left out,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I watch you remember all these moments, all these people, and I keep hoping that one day you’ll look at me and just... know.”

His words hung in the air, each syllable a reminder of the distance that had grown between you—a distance neither of you wanted, but couldn’t seem to bridge. It was like standing on opposite sides of a vast chasm, reaching for one another but never quite able to touch.

“You think this is easy for me?” you shot back, your voice rising with each word. “Do you think I wanted to get hit by a semi and lose my memories? No! I want it all back, I want my life back.” You took a step closer, the intensity of your emotions propelling you forward. “Do you know how much it kills me that you know a version of me that I don’t? You want her back, and so do I, but Jesus Christ, Spencer! I’m not her, I can’t just be her, I’m fucking trying, okay?”

The hallway seemed to close in around you as you stood there, the weight of your words hanging heavy between you. Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise at the raw honesty in your voice, the depth of your struggle laid bare before him.

“I know you’re trying,” Spencer said, his voice softening even as his frustration simmered beneath the surface. “But it’s so hard to watch you remember everyone else and not me. It feels like I’m losing you all over again, every single day.”

"I’m losing myself too!” you replied, your voice breaking with emotion. “Every time I remember something, it’s like I’m meeting a stranger who’s supposed to be me. It’s terrifying, and I don’t know how to make it better. And it doesn’t help when I’m constantly reminded that you’re disappointed in me too.”

Spencer ran a hand over his face, his own anger and hurt warring with the compassion he still felt for you. He wanted to say the right thing, but his emotions were tangled, pulling him in different directions. The frustration that had built up over the weeks finally met the compassion he still felt for you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the fight leaving his voice as he took a step back, trying to regain control. His eyes softened as he looked at you, the anger giving way to vulnerability. “I know it’s not fair to put this on you. God, I’m not disappointed in you, I’m just... I’m scared, Y/N. I’m scared that I’ll never get you back.”

The vulnerability in his words pierced through your own defenses, the rawness of his confession echoing the fears that had plagued you both. It was as if the anger that had fueled the argument had stripped away the layers, leaving only the truth of your shared fears and insecurities.

You sighed, your own anger giving way to a wave of exhaustion and sadness. The argument had drained you both, leaving behind a hollow ache that you couldn’t ignore. “I’m scared too,” you admitted, your voice trembling as you spoke. “I’m scared that I’ll never be able to remember the love we had, that I’ll never be able to be the person you fell in love with.”

Spencer's eyes met yours, and you could see the struggle within him—the longing to reach out and bridge the gap between you, the desire to hold onto the love that had once been so strong and certain. “You’re still the person I fell in love with,” he said softly, his voice tinged with desperation. “I know it’s hard to see right now, but you are. And I don’t want to lose you, even if it means starting over.”

His words hung in the air, a lifeline thrown across the chasm that had opened between you. You took a deep breath, the weight of his words.

“Can I ask you something?” Spencer spoke up, his voice laced with vulnerability. His eyes held yours, searching for an answer he seemed afraid to hear but needed to know nonetheless.

“Of course,” you replied, curious about what was weighing so heavily on him. You wanted to reassure him, to offer some comfort amid the storm of emotions that had engulfed you both.

“Do you find me attractive?” Spencer’s question was simple, yet it held a complexity of emotions—self-doubt, insecurity, a desire for reassurance.

“Spencer… what?” you asked, taken aback by the suddenness of his inquiry. You hadn’t expected that question, and yet, as you looked at him, you realized how important your answer would be.

He shifted his weight, his gaze dropping for a moment before returning to yours, the raw honesty in his expression clear as day. “Do you think that I am attractive? Even now, that you don’t remember me?”

You considered his question carefully. Spencer was undeniably an attractive person—his features were striking, with a gentle kindness in his eyes and a quiet strength in his posture. There was an undeniable allure to him, a magnetic pull that you felt even in your current state of confusion.

You imagined seeing him in a bar or a crowded room, where his presence would stand out, where you would undoubtedly look twice. His intelligence, the way he carried himself with quiet confidence, and the kindness in his eyes were all qualities that would draw you in.

“Yes,” you replied honestly, your voice steady and sincere. “Yes, Spencer, I find you attractive.”

Spencer let out a small breath he seemed to have been holding, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he absorbed your answer. There was a flicker of relief in his eyes, a subtle shift that spoke volumes about how much your opinion mattered to him.

“Thank you,” he said softly, his voice a blend of gratitude and something deeper, something that felt like hope.

You took a step closer, wanting to close the distance between you. “Spencer, it’s not just about looks,” you added, wanting to make him understand. “I may not remember everything, but I can see the person you are. The way you care, the way you’ve been so patient with me… that’s what makes you truly attractive.”

His lips curved into a tentative smile, the tension in his features easing as your words reached him. It was a smile that held the promise of new beginnings, a shared understanding that even in the absence of memory, there was a foundation upon which you could rebuild.

Spencer nodded, a small chuckle escaping him as he rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture you found endearing. “I guess I just needed to hear it,” he admitted, his vulnerability laid bare in that moment.

You nodded, reaching out to take his hand in yours. “We’ll figure it out,” you said, your voice filled with determination.

Spencer's fingers intertwined with yours, his touch gentle yet reassuring. The simple act of holding hands felt like a small victory, a step toward rebuilding the connection that had been so abruptly severed.

“You couldn’t possibly remember this,” Spencer said with a wry smile, “but I don’t usually touch people’s hands. It’s actually safer to kiss; fewer germs are spread that way.”

You let out a laugh, the tension between you dissolving into a moment of lightness. It was the first genuine laugh you'd shared since the accident, and it felt like a breath of fresh air.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” you replied, raising an eyebrow with a teasing grin. “But if that’s a line, it’s not working.”

Spencer chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s not a line, I promise,” he said, a hint of mischief in his tone. “Just one of those strange facts about me you’ll probably hear more about as you get to know me again.”

“Good to know,” you said, your smile softening into something more sincere. “But for now, hand-holding is just fine.”

—

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and joy, a celebration not just of your birthday but of the progress you had made and the hope that lay ahead. Surrounded by friends and loved ones, you felt a sense of belonging, a reminder that even in the midst of adversity, there was a community that held you close.

As the night drew to a close, you and Spencer stood together on the balcony, the city lights twinkling in the distance like stars. It was a moment of quiet reflection, a chance to breathe and appreciate the small victories that had brought you to this point.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Spencer said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that resonated deep within you.

You turned to him, your heart full of gratitude and the promise of what was to come. “Thank you, Spencer,” you replied, your words laced with sincerity.

—

“Y/N! Spencer is here for you!” Emily called out from the living room, her voice carrying through the apartment with an excited lilt that made you smile.

You were in your bedroom, putting the finishing touches on your outfit, excitement and nervousness fluttering in your stomach. Today marked your fifth date with Spencer, a milestone that felt both exhilarating and significant as the two of you continued to rebuild your relationship from the ground up.

The past few weeks had been a journey of rediscovery. You and Spencer had taken it slow, giving each other the space and time needed to navigate the complexities of your situation. Each date had been a new beginning, a chance to learn about each other all over again, and it had been going well—better than you had dared to hope.

You’d spent hours talking about everything and nothing, sharing stories and memories that both filled in the gaps and created new ones. There were still moments of hesitation and uncertainty, but they were gradually being replaced by laughter and warmth, a growing sense of familiarity that felt like home.

Taking one last look in the mirror, you adjusted your necklace and took a deep breath, feeling a thrill of anticipation for the evening ahead. You made your way to the living room, where Emily was chatting with Spencer, her eyes lighting up with the kind of mischief only a big sister could muster.

“Hey, Spencer,” you greeted him with a smile, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest that had become a welcome sensation. “Ready to go?”

Spencer turned toward you, his face breaking into a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat. He looked dapper in a casual blazer and slacks, an outfit that struck the perfect balance between relaxed and stylish.

“Wow, you look amazing,” he said, his eyes filled with admiration as he took in your appearance. "If I had known you were going to look this stunning, I would have worn my best suit."

You laughed, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Oh, please, you look great," you replied, meeting his gaze with a teasing grin. “Besides, I think we match perfectly. You know, two fashion icons taking on the city."

Emily watched the exchange with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased to see the chemistry between you and Spencer reigniting. She gave you a playful nudge, her eyes sparkling with encouragement. “Have fun, you two,” she said, ushering you toward the door. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes at Emily’s antics, before turning back to Spencer. “Shall we?” you asked, extending your hand toward him.

Spencer took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze that sent a reassuring pulse of connection between you. “We shall,” he replied with a grin, leading you out the door and into the evening that awaited.

—

The drive was filled with easy conversation, the kind that flowed naturally and effortlessly between you. You chatted about everything from work to your favorite TV shows, reveling in the comfort of each other’s company.

“So, where are we going tonight?” you asked, curious about the plans Spencer had made for your date.

“It’s a surprise,” he said cryptically, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “But I think you’re going to love it.”

“Really?” you said, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “Are you sure it’s not just another one of your ploys to impress me?”

Spencer chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Would it be working if it was?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” you teased, giving him a flirtatious glance as the car continued through the city.

Eventually, you arrived at a charming little restaurant tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. It was the kind of place that exuded warmth and intimacy, the cozy ambiance inviting you in as soon as you stepped through the door.

“Wow, this place is lovely,” you said, taking in the dim lighting, the soft music playing in the background, and the delicious aroma of Italian cuisine wafting through the air.

Spencer smiled, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I thought it might be a nice spot for us to relax and enjoy some good food,” he said, leading you to a table by the window that offered a view of the city lights twinkling in the distance.

“So, any more memories come back recently?” Spencer asked gently, his tone curious yet considerate, as if he knew the subject was still delicate.

You nodded, feeling a flicker of excitement as you recounted some of the fragments that had returned. “I remembered a trip I took with Emily last year to the beach. We ended up getting caught in a rainstorm and had to take cover in this little café, where we spent the afternoon playing board games. It was such a fun day.”

Spencer listened intently, a smile tugging at his lips as you spoke. “That sounds amazing,” he said, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. “You know, we had a similar rainy day adventure once. It involved an umbrella, a very wet cat, and an impromptu rendition of Singin’ in the Rain in a park.”

“Did we now?” you replied, a playful twinkle in your eyes. “Are you sure you weren’t just trying to get me to fall for your charming rendition of a classic?”

“Guilty as charged,” Spencer admitted with a laugh, his gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart flutter.

“Tell me, though, did we kiss in the rain?” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

Spencer blushed, a charming pink spreading across his cheeks. “We might have…”

“How scandalous!” you replied, feigning shock, but the playful glint in your eyes gave you away.

“You were the one who initiated it!” Spencer shot back, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Oh yeah, am I just supposed to believe you?” you teased, leaning back in your chair with a smirk. “You could be making it all up just to impress me.”

“Well,” Spencer said, a hint of mischief in his voice, “it is supposed to rain later. We could test out the theory.”

“Spencer Reid, you dog!” you exclaimed, laughing at the thought of dancing in the rain with him.

You shared a laugh, the sound mingling with the gentle hum of the restaurant around you. It felt like the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of happiness.

—

After dinner, you and Spencer strolled through a scenic path in the park, hand in hand. The night was pleasantly cool, and the stars dotted the sky like scattered jewels. The conversation between you flowed effortlessly, a blend of teasing and genuine connection that made the evening feel special.

“I thought it was supposed to rain?” you mused aloud, glancing up at the sky.

“Are you disappointed it’s not?” Spencer asked, a playful edge in his voice as he followed your gaze.

“Are you going to kiss me anyway?” you replied with a teasing smile, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

Spencer froze up for a moment, caught off guard by the boldness of your question. A myriad of thoughts raced through his mind, each one tangling with the next.

He had been nervous to make any moves on you ever since you’d started dating again. What if you didn’t like how he kissed anymore? Or his scent, or taste? What if you two didn't have rhythm anymore? The fear of these possibilities had kept him in check, cautious and tentative.

“What’s going on in that big brain?” you asked, your voice gentle and full of curiosity. You squeezed his hand, bringing him back to the present. Your touch was reassuring, a reminder that the connection between you was as strong as ever.

Spencer shook his head slightly, chuckling at himself. “Just... overthinking, as usual,” he admitted, meeting your eyes with a sheepish grin. “I’ve just been worried that maybe things aren’t the same between us.”

You tilted your head, regarding him with a soft smile. “Spencer, nothing about you could ever disappoint me. We might be rebuilding things, but I think that’s what makes it exciting. We get to discover everything all over again.”

He nodded, his apprehension slowly melting away as your words resonated with him. The sincerity in your voice was like a balm, soothing the insecurities that had plagued him.

“And besides,” you added with a playful twinkle in your eye, “I think we both know we’ve still got that spark.”

Spencer laughed, his tension finally breaking as he took a step closer. The warmth of your presence enveloped him, and he realized how much he had missed these moments with you—the teasing, the laughter, and the unspoken bond that seemed to transcend the gap of memory.

“You’re right,” Spencer said, his voice softening as he gazed into your eyes. “I’d be more than happy to kiss you, rain or no rain.”

You smiled up at him, your heart fluttering with anticipation. As he leaned in, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you beneath the starlit sky.

When Spencer’s lips met yours, it was like coming home. The kiss was gentle at first, a tentative exploration of the familiar territory that quickly blossomed into something deeper. His lips were soft and warm, and the familiar scent of his skin surrounded you like a comforting embrace.

All the previous worries melted away as you found your rhythm together, the familiarity and connection more than you could have hoped for. Spencer’s kiss was tender but charged with an intensity that made your heart race, a reminder of the passion and warmth that had always been at the core of your relationship.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the subtle tension in his muscles beneath your fingertips. Spencer responded in kind, his hands finding their place on your face, drawing you into him as if he was afraid to let go.

The kiss deepened, and it was as if time had stopped, the world around you fading away until only the two of you remained. Lips slotted together perfectly, tongues gliding in a slow, sensual dance that sent shivers down your spine.

You felt Spencer’s teeth gently nipping at your bottom lip, a playful gesture that made you gasp softly against his mouth. The small sound seemed to spur him on, and you could feel the gentle pressure of his hands pulling you even closer, until there was no space left between you.

In that moment, everything felt right—the way his lips moved against yours, the warmth of his touch, and the gentle thrum of your heartbeat syncing with his. It was a moment of pure connection, a dance of lips and breath and emotion that left you both feeling dizzy and alive.

You could feel the tension and uncertainty of the past few weeks melting away, replaced by a deep sense of belonging and peace. As you finally pulled back, you looked into Spencer’s eyes, seeing your own emotions reflected back at you—the warmth, the longing, the hope that you both shared.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless but smiling, the shared moment leaving a lingering warmth that seemed to wrap around you both.

“Wow,” you murmured, gazing up at Spencer with a soft, genuine smile. “That was... perfect.”

Spencer chuckled, relief and joy evident in his eyes. “I’d say it was pretty amazing,” he agreed, still holding you close.

You both lingered there for a while, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, the cool breeze whispering through the trees, the world feeling just a little bit brighter.

—

As you continued your stroll through the park, the clouds did open up, and the rain did come, soaking both you and Spencer. The unexpected shower was a sudden thrill, droplets of water cascading down your hair and cheeks, drenching your clothes in moments. The rain brought a fresh, invigorating scent to the air, wrapping around you like a cool embrace as you and Spencer burst into laughter.

“You said you wanted rain,” Spencer quipped, looking at you with a playful glint in his eye, water droplets clinging to his hair and eyelashes.

“I did, didn’t I?” you giggled, brushing a lock of wet hair out of your face. You both sprinted toward his car, shoes splashing through puddles, the sound of your laughter mingling with the rhythm of the rain.

You reached the car, breathless and exhilarated, climbing inside and closing the door behind you. The heated air enveloped you both in a welcome warmth, and you shivered slightly, feeling the chill of your soaked clothes.

Spencer turned on the car’s heater, and soon the air filled with warmth, contrasting the rain still pelting the car roof outside. You shared a look of amusement, the shared adventure bringing a delightful sense of connection.

“I don’t want to go home, but I’m uncomfortable,” you admitted, glancing down at your soaked clothes with a bemused smile.

“We could… go back to our—my apartment and change. Maybe watch a movie?” Spencer suggested, his voice soft and inviting, a hint of hesitation in his words as if worried you might say no.

You met his eyes, the warmth in them offering reassurance. “I’d love that,” you replied, your heart fluttering with the anticipation of spending more time with him.

—

Spencer drove you both back to the apartment, the windshield wipers swishing rhythmically as the rain continued its steady drumming against the car. It was your first time returning to the apartment since the night you’d cried there, overwhelmed by the weight of memories you couldn’t quite grasp. But now, the thought of revisiting felt different, less daunting and more like a step forward.

As you entered the apartment, you paused to take it all in again—the familiar scent, the little touches that made the space feel like home. Spencer watched you with a gentle smile, allowing you to explore at your own pace, offering silent support as you reacquainted yourself with the surroundings.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Spencer asked, breaking the comfortable silence. “All of your stuff is still in there.”

“Um, sure. Thank you,” you replied, grateful for the chance to shake off the chill of the rain.

You made your way to the bathroom, feeling a sense of nostalgia as you stepped inside and closed the door behind you. The shower was just as you remembered it, a familiar haven of warmth and comfort.

The water was soothing as it cascaded over you, washing away the rain and the lingering remnants of the day’s adventure. You felt a sense of relaxation settling in, a quiet moment of peace as you let the warmth envelop you.

But then, as you turned too quickly, your foot slipped, and you fell onto your tailbone with a startled yelp.

“Ow!” you exclaimed, wincing at the sudden jolt of pain.

“Y/N?? Are you okay?” Spencer’s voice called out from the other side of the door, filled with concern.

“Yeah! I just fell,” you called back, trying to keep your tone light despite the embarrassment.

“I’m coming in,” Spencer announced, the worry evident in his voice.

“Wait, Spencer, no—” you began, but he was already in the bathroom, eyes wide as he took in the scene.

He saw your naked form on the ground of the tub through the clear glass, his expression filled with worry and, perhaps, just a touch of awkwardness.

“Spencer!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and amusement.

“What happened? Are you hurt? Did you hit your head?” he asked, his concern overriding any sense of propriety.

“I’m fine, I’m naked!” you replied, laughing at the absurdity of the situation even as you tried to cover yourself.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Spencer said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I forget. I’ve seen you naked many times.”

“That is so weird,” you teased, rolling your eyes playfully.

Spencer laughed lightly, his eyes twinkling with warmth. “I don’t think so,” he said, his voice softening into something more tender.

“Can I see you then? Even it out?” you asked, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

“What?” Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, his cheeks flushing a delightful shade of pink.

“I’ve seen you naked before, right?” you continued, your playful tone belying the genuine affection in your gaze.

“Well, yes, but it’s different,” Spencer stammered, trying to maintain his composure.

“So it’s okay for you to see me, but not for me to see you?” you challenged, a teasing lilt in your voice. “Come get in the shower and help me up.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, then his expression softened into a smile, affection and delight playing across his features. “Alright,” he said, his voice filled with laughter. “Just this once.”

He quickly shed his clothes and joined you in the shower, his presence a comforting warmth amid the steam and water. With a gentle touch, he helped you up, his hands steady and reassuring as he held you close.

“Thank you,” you said softly, meeting his eyes with a smile.

Spencer’s gaze was warm and tender, his hands lingering on your waist as he smiled back at you. “Anytime,” he replied, his voice a gentle promise.

Your eyes couldn’t help themselves as they wandered downward, taking in the sight of him. The realization that you were both standing there, unashamedly bare, brought a new kind of awareness that was both amusing and endearing.

“Y/N!” Spencer laughed. “Eyes up here.”

“I'm sorry,” you said with a playful smirk, your eyes darting back up to meet his. “It’s human nature, after all.”

“I know,” Spencer replied, shaking his head with a chuckle. “But at least pretend to be subtle.”

“You’re quite large,” you teased, unable to resist the opportunity to keep the mood light. “Are you a grower still? Or always a shower?”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a deep red, his hands instinctively moving to cover himself as he groaned, “Oh my godddd.”

“Answer the question, and I’ll shut up,” you promised, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you looked at him with mock innocence.

With a sigh of resignation, Spencer removed his hands, his expression a mix of bashfulness and humor. “Still a grower,” he admitted, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.

“Lucky me!” you exclaimed, your tone full of playful triumph.

Spencer shook his head, his laughter infectious as he declared, “Not anymore, this was great. Goodbye!” He made a half-hearted attempt to step out of the shower, clearly feigning an exaggerated exit.

“Not so fast!” you interjected, grabbing his arm and pulling him back gently, your own laughter bubbling up as you did so.

His eyes met yours again, and the playful banter settled into something softer, a mutual understanding that transcended words. The silliness of the moment gave way to a quiet intimacy, the kind that came from truly seeing one another and finding joy in simply being together.

As the water continued to rain down, you and Spencer stood there, wrapped in each other’s presence, feeling a sense of comfort and safety that went beyond the physical.

You both eventually turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, towels wrapped snugly around you. The steam-filled bathroom felt like a private world where the rest of the day’s worries faded away.

—

Once dried and dressed in cozy clothes, you settled into the living room, the aroma of freshly brewed tea wafting through the air as you curled up on the couch together. The rain had stopped outside, leaving a soft patter of droplets against the windows, the perfect backdrop for a cozy movie night.

Spencer draped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “So, what’s our viewing pleasure tonight?” he asked, his voice filled with a relaxed contentment.

“I was thinking something classic,” you suggested, snuggling into his side. “Maybe a bit of Casablanca?”

“Casablanca, it is,” Spencer agreed, reaching for the remote with a smile.

As the movie played, you found yourself not only immersed in the storyline but also in the warmth of Spencer’s presence beside you. The shared laughter, the gentle teasing, the comfortable silence—it all felt like home.

—

You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you wake up, you find yourself nestled in the bed, no longer on the couch. The room is softly lit with the early morning sun filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow over everything. Spencer is still sound asleep next to you, his arms wrapped around you in a protective embrace. His breathing is steady and calm, and you watch him for a moment, feeling a rush of affection for this man who has been so patient and kind through everything.

Wanting to do something kind for him, you slowly and carefully extricate yourself from his embrace, trying not to wake him. You slip out of bed, pulling on his robe as you head to the kitchen to make some coffee, a small gesture of appreciation for the many times he’s been there for you.

As you move about the kitchen, the familiar routine of making coffee brings a sense of comfort. You smile to yourself as you measure out the coffee grounds and water, the rich aroma filling the air. It feels good to be doing something for him, even if it’s just a small gesture.

When Spencer finally wakes up, the smell of freshly brewed coffee lures him from the cocoon of blankets. In his sleep-delirious haze, he doesn’t realize anything has changed, and he instinctively walks into the kitchen, still half-asleep, and wraps his arms around you from behind.

“Morning, Spence,” you say softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace as you continue to stir the coffee.

“Mmm, good morning, baby,” he mumbles into your hair, his voice thick with sleep.

“I made your coffee, just how you like it,” you say with a smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the little surprise you’ve prepared for him.

“Black, seven teaspoons of sugar?” he asks, his voice carrying a note of playful suspicion.

“Precisely,” you reply, leaning back to kiss his head where it’s nestled against your neck. You love the way his hair feels soft and slightly tousled from sleep, the familiarity of the moment wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

Spencer hums contentedly, the combination of your affection and the promise of coffee stirring him more fully awake. You hand him a steaming mug, and he takes a grateful sip, savoring the sweet warmth.

“Thought we could call Diana today, check in on her progress,” you suggest casually, remembering the conversations you’ve had about keeping in touch with his mom.

Spencer’s mind is still catching up to the morning, the mention of his mother registering slowly. “Okay, that’s a good id–wait… what?” His eyes widen as he pulls back slightly, looking at you with surprise and hope.

“Diana, babe? Your mom? I haven’t talked to her in a while, and I wanted to see how she was doing,” you say, turning to face him, your own excitement bubbling beneath the surface.

“Y/N, are you messing with me?” Spencer asks, his voice a blend of disbelief and anticipation, as if he’s afraid to hope too much.

“No… Are you okay, Spence?” you ask gently, reaching up to touch his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his skin.

“Spence? My coffee preference? My mom?” Spencer’s eyes search yours, an array of emotions flickering across his face. “What are you not telling me?”

You smile, unable to contain your excitement any longer. “Oh, I woke up this morning with a few memories of our time together.”

Spencer’s eyes widen, his expression shifting from confusion to pure joy. “You remember?” he asks, voice filled with a hopeful wonder that sends a warm thrill through you.

“Bits and pieces,” you admit, nodding as you set your own coffee down on the counter. “It’s like little snapshots coming back, but they’re there. And you were in them.”

His face lights up with a brilliant smile, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners and sends warmth flooding through you. “That’s amazing, Y/N,” he says, pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms enveloping you completely.

You melt into his hug, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. It’s a moment of connection and triumph, a small victory in the long journey of reclaiming the life you once shared.

“I’m so happy,” Spencer murmurs, his voice muffled by your hair but no less filled with emotion. “I’ve missed you—every version of you.”

You pull back slightly, meeting his gaze with a smile that mirrors his own. “I’ve missed you too, Spence. I can’t wait to see what else comes back.”

Spencer leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. His touch was a gentle reassurance that you were exactly where you were meant to be, a soothing balm to the uncertainty that had lingered since the accident. The warmth of his lips against your skin sent a wave of comfort through you, a reminder that love was a constant, waiting patiently to be remembered.

“I love you,” Spencer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with sincerity and a gentle vulnerability. “Can I say that now? Is that okay?”

His eyes searched yours, seeking not just permission but a confirmation that the love you once shared was finding its way back, stronger and more resilient than before.

“Only if it’s okay for me to say I love you too,” you replied, your voice soft but filled with the depth of emotion that had grown in your heart.

The words were a quiet declaration, an acknowledgment of the bond that had endured through the haze of forgotten memories and the challenges of the past. It was a promise of the future you were eager to explore together, a future built on the foundation of love and understanding.

Spencer’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a joy that mirrored your own. “Then it’s more than okay,” he said, his voice warm and full of affection.

You both stood there for a moment, wrapped in the quiet intimacy of the morning, the aroma of coffee mingling with the soft light filtering through the kitchen. It was a simple moment, yet it held the weight of everything you had been through together, a testament to the resilience of love and the power of memory.

“Come here,” Spencer said, pulling you into another embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting reminder of the life you were rediscovering together. In that embrace, you found not just comfort but a sense of belonging that had been waiting for you to come home to.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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purifiedclitoris69 · 5 months ago

Text

Spiders Dance

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Supersoldier!Reader

HIII!! super rough and unedited but I wanted to get it out. I am new to writing smut so bare with me lol. I've had this in my drafts for a min so figured I get it out! Hope you enjoy ;)

Warnings: Smut, Bottom!Nat, Top!Reader, Violence, IDK JUST PLEASE MDI

Summary: Natasha was a flirt, it was easy and entertaining, but she took a keen interest in flirting with you; Toying with you on a mission however, may not have been the best idea, or was it?

"Morning soldier," Nat greeted, causing you to blush immediately as you finished rinsing your fruits.

"Hey, Nat, want any fruit," you offered. The girl made you extremely flustered when it came to her comments, but besides that you had real friendship with the her

"No, thank you, but you could hand me a bowl," doing as she said you opened the cabinet above you handing Nat her request, "Thanks," she said taking the bowl letting your fingers touch and running her other hand across your broad shoulders as she passed you.

You flushed quickly, turning around clumsily your elbow hit the cabinet you had left open and your bowl of fruit drop straight to the floor.

Those in the kitchen laughed at the regular interaction as Wilson mumbled out a teasing, "nice one, y/l/n," as you rubbed the back of your neck and stared at the spilled fruit and empty Tupperware on the floor.

"yeah, yeah whatever," you grumbled out picking up your fruit as Wanda helped you giving you a pity smile and Nat smirked amused in the corner.

"You ever gonna give the girl a break," Clint asked walking up beside Nat as the two watched you wash your fruit again and get another bowl leaving the kitchen.

"Absolutely not," Nat said making her bowl of oatmeal, "the day's just begun, and we have training soon."

You had headed back to your room to save yourself any more embarrassment. You didn't mind the flirting by Nat, it boosted your ego and you were head over heals for the woman. She was perfect in your eyes, which was terrifying. She was brave, very skilled in her job, very stubborn, a little pridefull, but she was genuinely kind, understanding, and absolutely stunning. That's why she had so much power over you. You did everything she asked of you and practically dropped to your knees whenever she batted her eyelashes; everyone knew it.

You have yet to figure out her true intentions with her comments, but you knew they were too detailed and persistent for it not to mean anything. Whether it was just lust or whether she became the love of your life, it didn't matter to you yet, you just wanted her… and maybe a little payback for all the times she's embarrassed you. You spent a little time in your room finishing up mission reports but inevitably headed down to the main gym early. It was team training today which means more rosy cheeks and school girl butterflies are coming your way. You decided it’d be safe to work up a little sweat so you could at least attempt to excuse the blush on your face.

“Hey,” Steve greeted as he approached the treadmill you were stretching next to, “you beat me, here."

“don’t be shocked rogers, I am suppose to be the better model,” you teased

“i think people prefer the original,” he returned, as he began his stretches as well.

The two of you ended up running for about 45 minutes; you reaching 33 miles, Steve 31.

“people can prefer you more, but numbers don’t lie,” you spoke as the two of you walked over to the waters with a light sweat.

Steve was ready to reply when the gym doors opened with Wilson, Bucky, and the Maximoff’s entering and greeting you.

You announced to all of them how you beat Steve and began a discussion about who’s the best super soldier as Nat and Clint entered.

Natasha’s eyes landed on you immediately and that glowing sheen of sweat. Nat practically went feral whenever she caught you training or even in the field, basically anytime your muscles were pumped and you were showing off your strength, which is why she loveddd training with you.

As the team did their separate warm-ups, they eventually made it to the big mat to run scenarios on Vision, who made a reasonable subject as he was made of the strongest metal on Earth. Each of them took their turns and contributing pointers.

“Hey soldier,” Nat greeted joining your side and looking up at you.

“Tasha,” you smiled warmly, “no distractions this session please,” you breathed jokingly

“what me? you do your own share of distracting,” she spoke alluringly.

You raised you eyebrows in question

she smirked touching your bicep lightly as you looked down at your tight black compression tee, “your training shirts don’t leave much to imagine.” Your jaw clenched hard enough to shatter your teeth as your face lit up once more leaving you unable to respond besides a small laugh, “don’t worry soldier,” she stood on her tippy toes as you leaned your ear towards her and she whispered, “I really don’t mind.”

“y/l/n,” Sam shouted, “why don’t you and Steve spar so we can decide who’s really the better model."

You forced a smile still caught up in what Nat said, “winner goes against Buck,” you proposed as Steve and Bucky immediately engaged in banter. You looked back to Nat who was already walking away with that dumb sway in her hips.

“Ahem,” Steve cleared his throat waiting in the middle.

“Let the soldier gawk for a min,” Bucky laughed as everyone was already giggling.

Walking to the middle of the mat your jaw clenched with the tension Nat at fueled, “Ready, kid,” Steve smiled extending his hand, you shook off your thoughts and accepted his hand.

You began with light jabs and blocks, both of them moving with an easy grace. Steve feinted to the left, then quickly punched you right in the face falling away from the punch as you gave a small laugh.

You responded with a quick, kick aimed at Steve's shin, eyes sparkling as you got back up quickly and made brief eye contact with Nat going straight back in for another punch; Steve dodged it impressively giving your hair a playful ruffle, receiving a feigned glare. You then get caught off guard once more by the red head over Steve’s shoulder this time getting tooo lost in her and allowing Steve to attempt a mock take down, you struggled briefly but slipped out of it twisting and landing an instinctual sharp kick to his ribs.

Steve dropped to his knees immediately and held a hand up clutching his rib as he gasped for air, his own being completely knocked out of him. he declared a dramatic surrender, “I concede,” he choked, “tad too hard for training kid.”

“shit, sorry,” you breathed sliding down to help him stand.

“all good just was not prepared for all that air to get knocked out,” he breathed out a laugh.

You and Sam let out a laugh as you both went to help him up.

"Yeah, if we're gonna spar can we get Romanoff to leave the room," Bucky joked receiving a smack from Wanda beside him.

"Shut it, Barnes," you said rolling your eyes, "you can just say you're scared." The team laughed at this but deep down you were a little sick of it. You could've genuinely hurt Steve.

The rest of training went pretty smoothly, you stayed as far away as you could from Nat and decided on sparring with Vision for safety.

On the way back to your room your mind was only on her. You spent the rest of the night thinking about her. You craved her in so many ways and you've never experienced the attention of such a beautiful woman, whether it was genuine or not it made you weak; weak in many ways that could lead to dangerous outcomes.

A knock pulled you out of your thoughts, you were sat on your bed freshly out the shower, in only a sports bra and shorts.

"Yeah, just a minute!"

"Hey, y/n, it's Steve," he announced from the other side of the door, "I've got a mission for you, I need you in conference room 6 for a breifing."

"Got it!" you answered opening the door dressed to see him heading in that direction," What's the job," you asked at the door only to see Nat and Maria inside.

--------------------------------------

The mission was simple get in get out. HYDRA's latest threat: a hidden base in Siberia working on a new generation of enhanced using stolen S.H.I.E.L.D. technology. The mission involved only gathering intelligence, sabotaging the facility's operations, and ensuring the destruction of any cruel new serum, simple enough, hopefully.

Your mind wasn't completely in it, it was still caught up in your mission partner, and the lack of control you experienced around her. You knew this mission could be dangerous as well, HYDRA's experiments usually are, you, Bucky, and the twins are proof of that.

"Hey you alright," Nat pulled you out of your thoughts as she stood in front of you.

"Yeah," you gave a soft smile getting up and walking past her towards your locker.

"you sure, y/n," she walked towards you again, "it's okay if you're not, I know a mission like this can bring up things," she said trying to comfort you. You looked at her catching the genuineness in her eyes, stirring up those school girl butterflies.

"Yeah, I'm all good," you answered grabbing your usual knives and gadgets, "just a little nervous."

"I get it," she said going to her own locker beside you, "I wouldn't worry, we're in this together." You smiled at her cheesiness but deep down it did help lift you a little. This was the kindness you were talking about, she could be so understanding, and sweet; the great black widow, all sweet to you in private. Maybe it wasn't weakness she brought out of you.

"Destination, in ten minutes," FRIDAY announced.

"I'll land us," you said walking past Nat and into the cockpit.

The perimeter had already been infiltrated by another SHIELD unit, and a map of the facilities layout was processed with key points of interest highlighted. Natasha and you made your way up to the roof so she could access the security measures.

"Watch it," you pulled Nat back by the arm nodding down to a pressure alarm, "don't be so distracted," you commented off handedly.

"excuse me," she scoffed, "let's not talk about what happened in training today," she teased.

Ouch. You dropped her arm,rolled your eyes and looked away shameful…stubborn and prideful, "just cut the alarms already," you whispered. Natasha smirked going to the panel and connecting a small screen (another SHIELD you don't really know about), she's able to disable the security systems and time your guys entry perfectly.

"Okay check comms," Nat said quietly, checking the comms this is where the two of you split up. Natasha is to the control room to download and wipe the data, while you make it down to the labs to destroy the serum and plant the bombs.

"How's it going," you check in less than 2 minutes later. You've always gotten anxious on missions with the team, fearing any mistakes, fearing losing control; Hydra taking you again. With Nat it was ten times worse.

"Don't worry bout me, soldier," she laughed softly with a teasing tone, "focus on your mission, we'll be out soon."

"Yes, ma'am," you anxiously laughed, Nat on the other end flushing at the title.

In the control room Natasha watched the data download with only thoughts of you, it was getting bad. The flirting had started because of a physical attraction to you, your frame, your style, then it was your humor, your kindness, your awkward laugh, your belly laugh, that stupid smile, everything. Nat's daydreaming was cut off by rushed footsteps in the hall. Looking at the camera she had set up at the door she saw a squad of Hydra agents marching towards the room.

"Shit," she mumbled," Y/n, we have a -."

"Are you okay," you cut her off.

"Just get done fast, I have a squad advancing on me" she stated.

"I'm all done here, I'm--," you were cut off by the door to the labs being kicked down and flying across the room.

"What was that, are you okay," Nat asked as she finished up her task and deleting the files.

"Made contact with the enhanced," you said getting into a fighting position, as alarms began to sound.

"It'll be okay," Nat said, "we'll meet at the emergency randevu."

The enhanced made eye contact with you moving mechanically towards you like a brute, "Let's see which model's better now," you mumbled walking towards the danger.

The Prototype charged first, moving with surprising speed for its size. You dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding a crushing blow that dented the metal floor. You countered with a swift punch to the Prototype's ribs, but it barely flinched, retaliating with a backhand that sent you sprawling. The two super-soldiers exchanged a flurry of blows, each strike resonating with power, but the Prototype’s resilience and raw power were relentless. It landed a solid punch to your side, sending you crashing into a lab table. Shattered glass and spilled chemicals hissed around you as you struggled to your feet.

Why the fuck was the model so strong. The Prototype loomed over you, ready to deliver a finishing blow. Summoning all your strength, You caught the descending fist in your own, muscles straining against the force. With a roar, you twisted the Prototype's arm, using its momentum to flip it over your shoulder and into a bank of computers. The impact shattered the screens and sent sparks flying as you pulled out a knife and stabbed the prototype only feeling it cut into metal. This thing wasn't a person anymore.

The Prototype snarled, grabbing your arm and pulling you into a headbutt. Stars exploded in your vision, but you fought through the pain, kicking the Prototype’s knee again, this time hearing a satisfying crunch. Breathing heavily, you didn’t let up. You charged at the downed Prototype, delivering a series of rapid punches to its torso and face.

The Prototype faltered, its movements becoming more erratic. You saw your opening, grabbed a heavy metal rod from the debris and swung it with all you might, connecting with the side of the Prototype's head. The force of the blow sent it crashing to the ground, where it laid, unconscious.

Standing admist the wreckage trying to catch your breath, you heard an "Ahem," making you jump.

"Shit," You breathed looking at Nat in the door way, "you said meet at the randevu point" you stated.

"sorry," she smiled walking over to you and cupping your face scanning you for any damage, only to see a cut lip and you clutching your rib "looking good soldier," she teased as she scanned back up to your face catching you staring, straight back at her and glancing down to her lips, you immediately flushed, backing away.

The roof further collapsed behind you, “we have to go, I've already planted the bombs” you said grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the exit. Making it towards the facilities garage waves of Hydra operatives began to emerge.

"Shit," Nat mumbled pulling you guys back behind a wall and coming face to face, smiling at the proximity.

"Stop it," you said stepping back, "you can't keep distracting me like this."

"I don't know what your talking about," Nat smirked teasing as Hydra agents were frantically looking all around for you.

"I'm not doing this here," you stated firmly, "what do you even get out of it,” you question furthered almost exhausted. Nat pitied you in this moment, she hadn’t realized how mad she was driving you, her face softened.

"They're over here," your head's both shot to down the halls were the Hydra operatives began rushing in.

"let’s go," Natasha said grabbing your hand and booked it the other way.

Making it to the garage and pushing a crate in front of the door, Natasha had time to hijack a Hydra truck right before the doors flew open, "GO!" you shouted slamming the driver side shut and kicking a hydra agent across the room.

"Wait!" Nat shouted trying to open the door again as you pushed it shut once more.

"Just go! I'll meet you at the jet," you yelled taking out another knife.

Natasha forced herself to slam on the gas leaving you to hold off the agents. With them being unenhanced hydra cockroaches it wasn't too bad they’re was just so many of them, it’d been awhile since you’ve seen this many agents in one place. As you were throwing them and slamming them to the floor, the bombs you had planted went off in the lab went off, the building shook and flames set. The explosion allowed three agents the time to make off on motorcycles straight in Nat’s directions.

“No,” you muttered under your breath, hurling one last agent to the ground, as more of the building began to collapse, you launched into a full sprint across the Siberian snow. Your breath crystallized in the frigid air as you dodged through the trees, eyes locked on motorcycles speeding ahead. Spotting a fallen log, you seized the opportunity, using it as a makeshift ramp to propel yourself through the air. You crashed into one of the riders, sending him tumbling into the snow and commandeering his bike in one fluid motion.

Accelerating hard, you leaned low over the handlebars, feeling the icy wind whip against your face. The roar of the engine drowned out the chaos behind you as you closed in on the next target. With a quick flick of your wrist, you deployed a zip-line hook from your gauntlet, the steel cable slicing through the air and embedding itself in the frame of the bike ahead.

You toggled the slack, your muscles coiling with anticipation. At just the right moment, you yanked hard, the sudden tension in the line allowed you to throw the motorcycle and its rider careening off course. They collided with the other bike in a spectacular crash, the two vehicles intertwining and skidding across the snow in a shower of sparks and shrapnel.

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw the base in the distance, its structure collapsing floor by floor in a series of detonations. The ground trembled beneath you, the sound of destruction echoing in the frozen wilderness. You didn't slow down. There was no time to celebrate. You didn’t know if they were going to follow or not and you had to get Nat out of there.

Unbeknownst to you Natasha had witnessed the whole thing and was absolutely craving you at this point. She knew she needed you. She arrived at the Quinn jet shortly before you, jumping out the car, and immediately going to check on you.

“Are you okay,” she asked urgently grabbing your shoulders and trying to scan for any injuries before you gently pushed her hands off of you

“Let’s just get in the air,” you spoke grabbing her wrist and pulling her into the jet. You walked straight to the pilot seat and got you guys in the air. Setting it on auto pilot, Nat could sense the frustration radiating off of you. You walked right past her and into the medical area.

“Do you need any help?” She asked, as you turned your back to her and took of your mission gear leaving you in a white beater.

“No, I’m just bruised,” you said flatly as blood bled through your shirt revealing a long gash as well, “shit,” you mumbled.

“that’s not just a bruise,” she joked trying to lighten your mood

“i can see that can you just give me some space,” you snapped at her.

“okay, what’s the problem,” Nat asked walking up to you with a purpose and pulling your shoulder to make you face her

“just back off,” you said shrugging her hand off you and walking past her. You took your beater off completely and walked towards the bandages.

“it’s gonna need sti..”

“it’s not,” you cut her off, “i heal fast remember,” you opened up the sterile wipes cleaning the wound and flushing it with one of the sterile saline solutions. You gritted your teeth with pain from the wound and felt her eyes bore into your every move; it made you nervous. You reached for sterile pads to quickly knocking over a trey and hissing in pain.

“Sit down,” she said sternly. Rolling your eyes you did what was told, sitting down you raised your arm up allowing her access to pat dry the wound with sterile pads and get fresh bandages. She watched your abs flex and adjust with every move, every breath. You watched closely what her hands were doing avoiding looking at her face, “there,” she smoothed the bandage over letting out a breath.

“thanks,” you mumbled walking toward your locker for a loose jacket.

“y/n,” she called out softly walking up to you as you ignored her, "can you stop being so childish."

"Me? Childish?" you scoffed at her and rolled your eyes, "you're the one who makes all these slutty comments and feels me up at every opportunity."

"Are you serious," her volume go louder, "your upset over me flirting with you."

"Natasha, we were on a mission, a dangerous one," you shouted, "and you still, took every chance you got. I mean seriously are you in heat or something!?"

Her face flushed, "wow I didn't know your ego could get this big, I'll give you credit," she scoffed

“this isn’t an ego thing, it’s obvious you want me to fuck you, you don’t have to deny it, dont even try to,” you seethed stepping forward with practically every word, “i don’t give a fuck about you constantly flirting with me like the slut you are, no matter how much I embarrass myself, I really don’t fucking care, because I know you..you really just can’t help it” your voice dropped back to a civil level still carried with a stern sense of frustration, “I am upset because your distractions today could’ve genuinely cost us,” you stood up straight, “cost me.”

You were staring down right at her, your breaths brushed one another’s face, “what,” she whispered, “cost you what,” Nat pushed wanting to hear you say it.

“you know what,” you whispered back looking to her lips and wetting your own.

“say it, y/n” she stared at your own lips.

“cost me you Nat,” you confirmed, your gaze going back to her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Nat whispered looking up at you. You broke the gaze dropping your head and closing your eyes taking a deep breath in.

"Do you even like me," you asked barely audible.

"What?" Nat laughed shocked.

"can you just answer the question, Natasha," you said looking back into her eyes, “do you even like me, or I just something you desire.”

She could tell she was hurting you at this point, that you were genuinely upset. "Yeah," she mumbled dropping her gaze to her, hands she looked small, "I do."

You cupped her face, bring her gaze back to you, your eyes scanning over every little feature, "but you just want me to fuck you too," you whispered staring at her lips, "don't you."

"I do," she answered as your lips inched closer and closer.

"say it," you said over her lips, "tell me what you want, Natasha."

Her hands went to yours," I want.." she whispered getting closer to your lips, "I want you to fuck me, y/n" She looked up into your eyes, "please," A shit-eating grin came upon your face as one hand moved to loosely wrap around her neck and your lips finally slammed together. You roughly pushed Natasha against the other lockers causing her to let out the most wanton pornographic moan ever, fueling the pit in your stomach. Breaking apart, your hands dropped to her hips keeping her in her place as she chased after your lips for more," please, y/n, don't tease."

You laughed looking down at her already swollen lips and licking your own, "Please, Nat," you said getting closer to her lips again, "I'm going to do whatever I want after all this shit you've pulled." Your lips went to the column of her neck, resulting in more of her pretty sounds and her hands in your hair. Your hands dropped lower towards the back of her thighs giving a light pull, she immediately jumped to wrap them around you. Your lips moved back to hers, kissing passionately, you swiped your tongue across her bottom lip, her own tongue pushing into your mouth as her hips moved in search of friction. You pulled the two of you away from the wall and carried her with ease to the medical bed not once breaking the kiss.

You placed her gently on her back, crawling over her, and moving your lips back to her neck. You bit marks into what was finally yours, as your hand moved to pull down the zipper on the front of her suit, "is this okay," you asked.

Nat smiled as her hips lifted towards you and her hands went further into your hair, "more than okay," she breathed, "I'm yours," she whispered across your lips, "and I want you to do whatever you want to me," she looked into your eyes pupils completely blown. Your lips locked in another passionate kiss, this time brief. Each touch caused shivers through Nat, her breath hitching in anticipation as you pulled the zipper down further and pulled the suit from her body, exposing her skin inch by inch.

"You're so beautiful," you murmured, sitting up and taking in her disheveled look as she lay in her bra and underwear.

"Take this off," she unzipped your jacket and pushed it off your shoulders. Hands scratching over your abs and back to your hair as she pulled you back into another kiss. Both breathing heavy and desperate your lips moved back to trail down Natasha's neck, leaving a path of more marks. When you finally reached Natasha's chest, your hand wrapped around to unclip her bra, your mouth immediately latching onto her nipple earning a gasp from Nat, "Y/n please," she whimpered, hands tugging in your hair to pull you closer. With a growl of need, you continued your descent, your mouth leaving a burning trail down Natasha's stomach. Kissing lightly above her underwear, you locked eye for further permission at which Nat nodded eagerly too, hooking your fingers in her underwear, Natasha's eyes fluttered shut, her hips lifting urging you to move faster.

Pulling her underwear off, Nat's core glistened with need. You couldn't help but smirk and kiss around the place she needed you most. You spread her legs wider, hands gripping her thighs firmly, as you littered love bits all over them, "Please, Y/n, I'm begging you," she moaned as you ghosted over her clit again.

The great Black Widow begging. You didn't waste another second, your mouth latched on to her core, tongue flicking out to taste what was finally yours. Natasha cried out, her back arching off the bed, causing you to moan into her core, and her to thrash more. You forced her hips down with more strength bound to leave bruises after. Your tongue moved expertly, alternating between teasing flicks and deep rough strokes. Natasha's moans gre louder, her hands pulling desperately at your hair. "Oh god, Y/n," she gasped, her body trembling.

Your grip tightened on Natasha's thighs, holding her in place further as you increased your pace. Tongue delving deeper, your mouth worked Natasha closer and closer to the edge. Natasha's moans turned into invoherent cries from the stimulation, her body writhing beneath you.

"Go ahead," you mumbled, " come for me, pretty girl," the vibrations sent Natasha over the edge as she screamed your name, her body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

You didn't stop, your mouth continuing to work Natasha through her orgasm until she was a trembling, breathless mess. Only then did you pull back, lips glistening with Natasha's arousal. You crawled back up her body, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

"your mine," you whispered against her lips, "as I am yours."

Natasha nodded weakly, giving a blissful smile, her eyes glazed with satisfaction. "Always," she answered, hand still tangled in your hair.

#enhanced!reader #marvel fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #marvel #bottom!nat #super soldier #black widow x y/n #natasha x y/n #natasha romanov

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thediaryofaurora · 2 months ago

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𖧐Kinktober - Day 3𖧐

Theme: Car sex / stranded

Pairing: Ticci Toby x colleague!reader

CW: NSFW, dry humping, f!reader, riding

Word count: 1.0k

Side note: Sorry this is late, I’ve been caught up in doctor appointments, but good news is I’m off my crutches 🧚 Also I didn’t prepare for Kinktober what so ever, burnout is going CRAZY. I’m gonna spend the weekend preparing more, but day 4 might be a little late also 💔

❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎

“I-I already tried, damn en-engine won’t start.” Toby huffs, putting his hands in his pockets while he leans against the trunk.

“Then what the hell are we supposed to do??”

It’s the middle of winter for fuck’s sake, walking nearly 90 miles back to the mansion would take days, probably even get you both killed in the process. You already notified Tim, but even in a car it’ll take over an hour.

“W-we might as well get back in the car. I-it’s better than standing o-out here with the wind.”

“I guess.” You grumble, opening the driver’s side door and slipping in, Toby following suit.

Being shielded from the wind and light snow is definitely better than waiting outside and getting frostbite, but the temperature in the car had still dropped once the heat was turned off.

“It’s too fucking cold for this, are you sure we didn’t pack any matches?”

“No l-lighter either.”

Sighing, you put the keys back in the ignition, hoping for any chance of it turning on.

Vrrrrr, pufk

“Piece of shit.”

You two had already been out in the cold for half an hour, having to walk back from your mission, and looking down at your hands turning a faint purple makes the situation even more urgent.

“Get in the back.” You gruff, climbing over the center console and into the backseat. Toby doesn’t hesitate to follow, if you have an idea to keep you both from freezing to death he’s open to it.

“A-are we huddling?”

He chuckles, resting against the door while you crawl on top of him. No wonder he’s not as worried about the whole ordeal as you, he’s barely cold. You nestle up against him, draping your arm around his chest with a sigh. Even though you both had known each other for a while, he’s obviously nervous, the way his rapid heart beat is thumping in your ear while you rest your head on his chest making that clear.

Trying to take in any warmth you can get, you drape your leg over his hips, then you feel it: the reason he’s so nervy.

Maybe you can help him out, it doesn’t have to mean anything. Gently you grind down on him, enough for him to not know if you actually are or if he just wishes you were. Slowly but surely you begin to add more weight, and more, and more. After a few minutes it’s noticeable the way you’re perfectly rubbing your clothed cunt against his restrained boner.

His breath starts picking up, his wood only getting harder as you make it obvious what you’re doing. Your head is still rested on his chest, his heart thumping even louder than before.

You had been doing it for a few minutes now, keeping a steady pace of dry humping this poor, desperate boy. A small whimper escaping his lips as he begins bucking his hips up into yours, moving his hands down to your ass and pulling you closer onto him, his fully hard cock now rubbing perfectly against your swollen bud.

Now you’re both grinding into each other, the friction too much to handle. You need him.

Quickly you pull off of him, letting a whine. Your knees are on either side of his hips, hastily undoing his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. All he can do is look at you in awe, his eyes big and greedy as he watches you slip his pants down. His dick springs out, the tip already red and shining with precum. You slide off your bottoms, revealing your puffy, wet pussy. His length twitches as you position your hole above his needy cock.

Slowly you begin lower yourself onto him, his tip barely brushing your hole while it pulsates on his most sensitive part.

Toby has always been a beat it and get it over with kind of guy, not bothering to even use lotion while watching porn; so now, you slowly sliding down his girth makes it difficult not to cum immediately.

Your hole clenches around him while you take your time adjusting, his throbbing cock making you want to slam down on it. He stretches you good, but the pain can’t compare to the pure nirvana of him being inside you.

It’s half way in, just almost hitting your cervix. His heavy breaths have turned into pants, sweet little whines in between while you slide down.

“H-mghn… Y-y-y/n- please-“ His voice is a pure whine as he begs for more, his attempts to buck up into you stopped by your hands pushing his hips down to the seat.

The tip finally hit your sweet spot, your hips rolling against his as you adjust to the girth. You start picking up your pace, shamelessly riding him as you feel your high coming to a breaking point. It’s obvious his is too, his mouth agape while he pants and whimpers incoherent pleads.

Your climax comes crashing down over you, riding out your high on his twitching dick, your once freezing face now dripping with sweat. Toby came right after, his cum spilling out of you as you pulled off of him.

The car’s windows were completely unusable, the condensation too thick to see through. Small droplets of water formed and raced down, your body heats immediately filling the streak.

Toby’s dazed panting below you, eyes fluttering open and shut with every breath, his shaky hands still holding onto your hips as you lay back down with him.

A loud knock on the window startled the two of you, Tim’s voice breaking the silence.

“You better be clothed when you come out of there.”

Together you both gather your clothes and redress, stepping out of the humid vehicle into the baby blizzard. Tim’s car is pulled over to the side of the road in the distance, his headlights flashing.

You and Toby stumble behind him, your legs weak and unstable. At least you stayed warm.

❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎❥❤︎︎

Kinktober Masterlist

Creepypasta Masterlist

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palajae · 3 months ago

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wrong place, wrong time.

PAIRING... heeseung x doctor!reader | GENRE... fluff, romance, humor, mentions of hospitals, flirty heeseung | WC... 1kish

“oh my god. he has to be a model. there’s no way-“

“maybe he’s famous…”

“should we ask him for a picture?”

you roll your eyes at the excited chatter coming from the nurses down the hall. who knew what they were gossiping about this time? shoving your hands in your coat pockets, you’re quite literally stopped by the sight of everyone crowded by the front desk.

you frown, taking in their lovestruck expressions. “what’s going on?”

one of the nurses, giselle, quickly squeals and runs over to whisper in your ear.

“you won’t believe it, doc. the finest man just walked in. his condition seems alright so we’re all trying to figure out what he came in for.”

of course. you let out an exasperated sigh, watching in amusement as everyone fights to be the one to escort him to a room.

out of pure curiosity, you decide to take a quick glimpse. exactly how handsome could this guy really be?

apparently, very. much. so.

lee heeseung. early twenties. looks like a member of a famous boy band. has got everyone in close proximity wrapped around his finger.

also, a huge flirt (obviously.)

the nurses love him, getting any and every chance to bat their eyelashes and flirt back.

you, on the other hand?

you’re sure you’ve become a pro at rejecting his advances.

the first time he came in was for bloodwork. the second time, x-rays. the third time he was “feeling under the weather.”

honestly, you’re wondering why he visited so often. if anything, most people avoided hospitals.

“hi, dr. y/l/n.”

your lips press together in a thin line. your eyes remain focused on the clipboard in front of you. you weren’t counting but this was, what?

his fourth time checking in?

“heeseung. you’re back…again. may i ask why you seem to love the hospital?”

he smirks teasingly, “or maybe why the hospital seems to love me?”

you can’t help but roll your eyes indiscreetly.

he did it every time. of course, he was friendly with everyone. but heeseung just seemed to go the extra mile around you.

“i think i ate something bad.”

you quirk an eyebrow, “oh really?”

“i don’t know, maybe it was something the chef cooked?” he responds cheekily.

you let out a huff of air, one long enough that blows the baby hairs out of your face. “…what did you eat last night?”

“oh, it was delicious,” his eyes bore into you as he continues to ramble on.

“any pain, discomfort, bowel movements?” you interrupt, clicking your pen incessantly.

“no, just the ache in my heart when you ignore me,” he clutches his chest playfully.

you look up at him with pursed lips.

“you know what? i think you’re fine and it’s time for you to go.”

you guide heeseung to the front desk to drop him off, about to leave him in the hands of the receptionist. as you’re about to leave, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist. it’s subtle—under the table so no one else can see.

your body stiffens for a moment, examining his face that holds an unreadable expression. when neither of you utter a single word, you gently pull your arm from his grip when someone calls for you.

winter’s mouth drops open. “you’re telling me he came back a fourth time? this must be a record.”

ningning nods excitedly, “i mean, there has to be a reason. who do you think he keeps coming back for?”

you almost choke on your water. “you’re saying-?”

she turns to you, eyebrows raised insistently. “there must be a certain someone that catches his eye here.”

“i wish it were me,” giselle sulks as her fork stabs into her food pathetically.

winter frowns, “you know, he has been really clingy to you, doc.”

you swallow harshly. “huh?”

everyone begins to chime in accordance.

“yeah, he always asks about you and what you’re doing.”

“he only gets check ups from you, too.”

you scoff, shaking your head slightly. “don’t remind me.”

the three of them pause for a short moment, before their expressions change. you feel fear and apprehension course through your veins.

“do you not like him? is it because you think he’s so cute?”

“are you interested in him?” their wide eyes and questioning voices makes your mouth dry.

“now that i think about it… y/n’s the only one who doesn’t seem down bad for heeseung.”

you stammer, unable to form a response until your pager goes off.

“ha-oh. well, that’s my cue!”

you quickly make your escape in order to hide your flustered expression.

after you finished your rounds later, you slump into your chair in the cafeteria. the sounds of the conversation from the table next to you drifts over to your ears.

“do you think it’s because of me? i mean, he always greets me good morning with those dreamy eyes of his.”

your eye twitches.

“don’t think you’re so special. heeseung waves goodbye to me every time.”

alright, enough of this. you stand up, chair clattering backwards quite loudly, and walk off. you’ve just made it to your office, opening the door, when you freeze.

“heeseung? what are you doing here?”

he immediately smiles from—your eyes narrow—your rolling chair. he rolls closer, a bit too close.

“why do you keep asking when you know the answer already?”

for a moment, you keep your eyes locked. then you let your professional mode switch off.

“you really need to stop coming, hee. people are getting ideas,” you chide gently with a ruffle of his hair.

he leans into your touch with a hum, “about you and me?”

you push his head away with a snort, “no. about you and them.”

with a chuckle, he wraps his arms around your waist. “i’m sorry. i can’t help but miss my baby when you’re practically working all day.”

you soften, “i know. i’m sorry. but this is getting a little out of hand.”

suddenly heeseung gets up, moving closer towards you. “will a kiss make up for it?”

you pretend to think, tapping your foot thoughtfully, “maybe… depends on how good of a kiss.“

he quickly leans in, one arm snaking around your waist while the other cups your cheek. your eyes begin to close. as soon as you feel the ghost of his lips touch yours, the door slides open.

“doc-“

you immediately push heeseung off of you, startled. and then proceed to shut the door in giselle’s face, quite literally. with panicked whispers, you manage to shove your boyfriend under the desk with a final shh!

about 0.3 seconds later, you slide the door open again.

giselle stands there, gaping.

“what was that?!”

“what was what?” you clear your throat nonchalantly, taking a look at your patient’s files.

“you-he-“ she splutters, “heeseung!”

“what are you talking about?”

“you’re the one heeseung keeps coming for?”

“doctor y/l/n?!”

you both freeze. the rest of the nurses look from you to giselle and back with shell shocked faces.

you want to curl up into a ball. this is not how you wanted everyone to find out. given, you didn’t expect your loving boyfriend to visit out of the blue without any context.

you smile sheepishly. “surprise?”

before you know it, a hand finds its way onto your shoulder. you almost jump before relaxing at the touch.

“we-we thought- heeseung-“

you bite your lip, as heeseung chuckles. you wanted to keep your personal life and work life separate, but with your job getting so hectic the past couple weeks, you realized you had spent way more time at the hospital than at home.

immediately, guilt runs through your body. heeseung had always been so sweet and understanding, and seeing him come visit your work really put things in perspective.

how bad must’ve it been for him to have to go out of his way just to see you? while you kept brushing him off?

you wrap an arm around his waist, hugging him closer. “guys, this is my boyfriend, heeseung—as most of you already know.”

he looks at you with surprise evident in his eyes. obviously, you weren’t the most open person.

as everyone watches you two with jaws dropped, you squeeze his hand in hopes he understands. you’re lucky to have heeseung—the most empathetic person you know, because he presses a kiss to your temple.

“i’m sorry,” you murmur, “no more running away and prioritizing work.”

everyone else in the room fades away as he truly looks you in the eye.

“i know, baby. i know.”

as you both beam at each other, you’re assured in the love you feel together once more.

a/n ▸ jae posting two days in a row? that’s crazy

MAIN TAGLIST ▸ @precioussoulofmine @kynrki @heesterical @nvertheless @duolingofanaccount

@hoeshii @love-4-keum @luvhyun3 @dimplewonie @who-tf-soddhi

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@ashtxrie @isoobie @mireyaaaaaaaaa @choppedballoondetective

send a message to be added to the taglist!

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #heeseung fluff #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung scenarios

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mygnolia · 3 months ago

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LATE NIGHT WHEN YOU NEED MY LOVE | l. heeseung

୨୧ -› when the distance is long and the fondness too great, you ask your boyfriend, heeseung, for a simple favor.

pair -› idol!heeseung x idol!reader | trope -› established relationship | wc -› 480 | library

you’re lucky he’s on tour not so far away from you, and when he comes back from tonight’s concert, he’s exhausted. while your group was working on recording songs for your upcoming comeback, heeseung had been touring the world with his members, and during your free time, you calculated the best times to call each other, even if it wasn’t every night.

one ring. two rings. “hi, baby,” you murmur, smiling unknowingly when you hear him pick up.

“hello my love.” heeseung finds his heart pounding, as if it were the first time he met you again. “how was your day?”

and you tell him all about the vocal training, about how you love your new song and your concept, and about how some of the photos you took in the studio might be your best ones yet, and how you’d show him when you get the chance.

he chuckles, feeling sleep drag him down as he changes and gets ready for bed. “you’re always beautiful, angel. i’m excited to see them when they come out.” you feel heat rise to your face, never not flattered by your boyfriend’s kind words.

“and you, love? how was the tour?” you can hear the tiredness in his voice, and hope that he catches enough sleep tonight.

“our stop was so energetic,” he gushes, slipping into bed as he tells you all about the fanbase he adores so much. “i was so happy to perform, they always seem to love our songs, but i’m also glad to talk to you now.” and you continue to talk to him about the little things, feeling yourself also grow sleepy as the phone counts minutes upon minutes of your call.

“sleep, baby.” he says, turning over. his heart melts when you whine about wanting to stay on the phone with him longer, until he forces you to tell him about how your schedule looks for tomorrow. “shhh, how could i help from all the way over here, hm?” he responds, laughing quietly when you ask for the impossible task of him showing up to cuddle you to sleep.

“sing for me, yeah?” you ask, a honey-sweet feeling in your voice, and heeseung can’t deny you.

he sings quiet enough to not disturb the other members who are minding their own business before bed, and you feel yourself slipping into dreamland when he starts to sing the unreleased ballad he wrote himself, as well as a few others that ENHYPEN had previously released.

and when the line goes quiet, heeseung smiles to himself, his chest filling with care for you. and although you are hundreds of miles away from each other, he sends his love, even if it’s through the line.

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twizzie-lairs · 10 months ago

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My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 8)

Quick Notes:

You, the reader who is an artist, and had become Alastor's sweetheart, but unfortunately died too early.

Now, you're in hell.

Part 8:

Your arrival in hell was a quiet one, hardly a soul around to even notice you in what looked like a barren desert. But red. So much red everywhere. The sky, the ground, all of it- red.

You looked down at your hands, you looked different. You looked... not quite human.

"So this is hell, isn't it?" You said yourself out loud. "I thought it would be more... populated.. and.. different."

But what really caught your eye was a ring on the ring finger of your left hand. You don't recall ever wearing a ring there before you died.

But then it dawned on you... Alastor. This ring was from him. It had to be. Tears welled up in your eyes as you sniffled. It just had to be and you thanked whatever higher powers that existed for allowing this one thing to be brought with you to Hell after you died.

After walking for miles, hardly seeing any sign of civilization- or whatever it's called down here, you happen upon a small town situated in an oasis.

Well, a hell.. version of an oasis. It wasn't water in the center of this town, lava maybe? Blood? Either way, you figured this would be where you'd have to get your start and find your bearings as a new denizen of Hell.

After talking to some (begrudging) locals, you found out you were in what's called the "Ring of (insert whatever ring of hell you want to be in, except pride)"

With the basic information given to you (and then being told to figure the rest out, as the locals spat in your face) you figured you would have to settle here for now.

So settle you did, until you had enough resources to get to a bigger city.

In life, you were an artist, it was the one thing you felt like you could do best, so that's what you decided to do in Hell too.

For many years, you were the definition of a starving artist. You moved from town to town, city to city, with only enough money to get you through each day.

You didn't have a home to call your own, so you often had to find small little nooks and crannies in backstreets and alleyways at night.

During the day, you offered super cheap portraits on the street. Some sinners scoffed and looked down at you, calling you all sorts of degrading names that you had never heard before. Meanwhile other sinners were so vain, demanding you capture their beauty to their unrealistic standards. But you gave them what they wanted, after all, beggars can't be choosers down here.

This same cycle repeated for many long years, until a few decades later, you found yourself slowly working for higher-profile clients, starting from a variety of store owners until you eventually had your first Overlord client commission you to make a large-scale magnificent portrait of them.

After this big break, you began to get more commissions from other Overlords, both big and small.

It was around this time, decades after your arrival to Hell, that you found yourself not starving anymore. You didn't have to worry about the day-to-day, and even though you could afford a really nice place even in a big city of one of the rings of hell, you chose to keep it more low-key and stayed in a small, humble apartment.

It was easy to relocate and take the bare minimum essentials and move onto the next town, city, or ring of Hell.

Even after many decades in Hell, you never forgot about the love of your life- Alastor.

It's why you chose to live in such a small apartment, with not many material belongings except for your work/art materials.

You made it easy to pick up and move because you were searching for Alastor all these years.

You didn't want to sound insulting, but you knew he had to end up in Hell too.

But it was hard to find one specific person in all of hell. After all, you knew you had to tread carefully. Names and connections hold a lot of power and reign supreme down here.

Unfortunately, this led you to a bunch of dead ends or nothing at all. Investigating wasn't really your strong suit, but you did your damn best.

As you were reminiscing the past, both of your life on Earth and in the years you've resided in Hell (which doubled or was even close to tripling the number of years as you lived on Earth at this point), you got up from your chair and decided it was time to pack up again.

One of your acquaintances that was a lackey to one of the Overlords in the area let you know that a turf war was going to happen soon, so you figured now was the time to pack up and make your way to the only ring of hell you hadn't been to- the Pride ring.

Given the nature of your business, you had a feeling business would be booming in the Pride ring. You had a feeling that the Pride ring would be your best bet to make connections and find any potential leads on where the love of your life would be.

However, every time you traveled into a new ring, you had to sneak in as unnoticed as possible because "sinners" aren't supposed to be able to travel freely between the rings of hell.

It was a wonder that you still had ownership over your own soul after all these years, especially considering you've done many commissions for high-profile demons and Overlords throughout almost all of the rings of hell at this point.

You sigh as you bring your hood over your head and leave your home with just a briefcase of art supplies once more.

-> Part 9

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eudaimaniacs · 2 months ago

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quite an animal (logan howlett x female reader)

warning/s: dead dove do not eat, noncon, implied earlier noncon, mentions of kidnapping, etc. please proceed with caution.

You don't know how long you have been running away from him. Logan. The crazed man who took you a month ago, promising he would take care of you. If taking care means getting constantly hit by beer bottles, almost killed by his claws, and servicing him, then you're well taken care of.

You've had enough of Logan's abusive grip on you. So, you waited for the perfect time to escape this place you deemed hell. Logan would go out to buy some groceries by himself since he doesn't trust you going with him. You didn't attempt to escape before since you wanted to catch him off guard. You packed the little things Logan hadn't destroyed when he brought you to the cabin. You stole some money he had hidden and waited for your kidnapper to be far away.

The freedom you had wished for ever since greeted you when you opened the door. When you took your first step, you have never felt this happy. With your bag at the side, you began walking through the vast forest to escape this demented place.

After treading for about seven minutes, you finally saw the road. You smiled and thanked whatever divine being blessed you with this opportunity. You were free. You didn't have to suffer Logan's tight grip on you anymore. A few more miles and you could taste the sweet-

"Princess, what are you doing?"

Your body shook at the deep voice calling your attention. The universe had betrayed you, like a blunt knife getting sharp at the last minute and stabbing you in the heart. You didn't dare to face Logan. You didn't want to see his face or feel his presence.

"I asked you something, princess. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" The grumpy man continued to question and make you more vulnerable.

You don't know if it's instinct or the desire to escape Logan, but you start running. You felt your eyes building up water as the reality dawned on you. Logan was keeping you here no matter what. He's going to use every method to cage you here forever.

The forest seems enormous now that you're in a life-or-death situation. The trees were never-ending, and there was no sign that you would get out anytime soon. You heard the heavy footprints of Logan chasing you. You didn't look back and see the furious, animalistic look he had. He didn't scream your name or command you to do anything.

He was catching up to your slow, almost tired running. You didn't bother to hold a weapon near you since defeating Logan was nearly impossible. Your legs were burning from the endless running. You wanted to give up, but the price of your freedom relied on it.

Your curiosity kills you as you dare to look at Logan behind you. He was fuming. His claws were out, and he discarded the flannel he wore earlier. Logan was determined to get you back. He looked like a predator hungry for prey.

As you focus on the path before you, a large rock suddenly makes you lose balance. You yelped at the force tripping you to the ground. You tried getting back up but felt Logan's foot stomping your back. You cried at the reality of not escaping this hell hole anytime soon.

"L-Logan, please, I'm s-s-sorry!" You pleaded to the feral man above you. He growled and turned you to face him. You went wide-eyed as you heard him huffing and threatening you with his metal claws.

Logan grunted and scolded you, "You escaped, [Y/N]. I won't show you any mercy even when we're in the middle of the forest." Before you can beg for forgiveness again, his claws rip the sheer dress that offered you little protection. You cried out and tried stopping Logan from doing this to you.

He hungrily bit and kissed your neck as he unbuckled his pants. The angry penis aroused by your attempt to escape him. You shook your head and promised that you wouldn't do that again. Your endless whines annoyed Logan, so he grabbed your neck to shut you up.

Without warning, his large member entered you, making you scratch his arm to fight him with little effect. Your voice was weakening as you pleaded and begged him to stop. However, Logan was an animal and chased his pleasure at the expense of hurting you. Your body betrayed you more as you felt your pussy hugging him tighter.

"You can't deny me, princess. Your wet pussy is so fucking tight. It's a perfect match for me," Logan groaned as he quickened his pace. You close your eyes, hoping you'll wake up from this nightmare. A monster taking advantage of you in the forest he held you captive in. You prayed to the gods to rescue you from this hell.

You felt your stomach twisting, indicating that you were close. Logan smirked as he saw the imprint of his cock on your stomach. You let out a weak moan that you didn't bother to suppress. After all, Logan won over your body even if your mind tried to disagree.

His thrusts falter as your orgasm crashes over you. You want to sleep and try to forget everything when you wake up. You knew you were returning to the cabin where you would live with an animal for the rest of your life. Logan retracted his claws and stayed inside of you, making sure that every drop of his cum painted your walls.

Like a switch, Logan suddenly became warm and softly whispered, "I'm going to clean you up, princess. Let's cuddle and eat something at the cabin." He kissed your forehead and carried you. Like a predator bringing his prey back to his cave, you surrendered and embraced Logan's sweetness. You weakly hold his chest, seeking comfort at the man who had and will always violate you.

eudaimaniacs - 2024

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swordsandholly · 4 months ago

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Treat Me Gently (Because No One Else Will)

Ch 1: The Arrangement | next | masterlist | Ao3

Ghoap x reader | MDNI 18+ | cw: PiV sex, fingering

You yawn and stretch, back popping all the way up as you finally give it some reprieve from your hours of sitting at your low coffee table that doubles as your work station. As much as you try to stop hunching like a goblin, you always slip back into it. It’s hard when your mind gets lost in the words and the pages flying by. Good posture seems to equal bad writing, unfortunately.

Your knees pop slightly as you stand up from your cushion that doubles as a ‘chair’, decidedly clocking out for the evening. Really, you should have stopped two hours ago, but you just can’t get this one damn scene right. You sigh, heading to your dresser to change out of your “work” clothes and into a ratty, oversized shirt and pajama shorts. Your phone dings just as you go to stand in front of the fridge that you already know is practically empty.

S >> Come over?

S >> I got takeout.

You snicker. Perfunctory and presumptuous, as usual. He timed it out for when he knew you’d be done with work - even taking in your propensity to go well passed your designated office hours. He probably knew you were out of food, too. Not that you’d ever expect less from Simon Riley.

>> Give me 5

You pad across the the hallway between your flats, the dangling of your keys echoing off the old walls. The floorboards always creak, announcing your presence before you could even knock on the door. Simon’s place is bigger than yours - a one bedroom as opposed to your studio. Both have small balconies, his furnished with only two fold-out chairs. You’ve tried to convince him to get a plant or something, but he just insists it will die in a day despite that being literally impossible. The whole of the apartment is sparsely decorated - the main features being that of his well worn L-shaped couch and the fancy surround sound system Simon installed. The rest of it made up of shelves lined with physical media and books.

“Evenin’.” Simon says from his kitchen as you let yourself in. He stands at the island, broad shoulders hunched as he fiddles with something.

The lock clicks behind you when you shut the door. Some soft classical music drifts from the speakers. You don’t recognize it, but you also know that asking will result in a lecture that will undoubtedly become a pop quiz at a later date. You don’t need another Tchaikovsky incident on your hands.

“Sushi?” Your brows raise as you eye the rolls and sashimi. He really went all out. “What’s the occasion?”

Simon shrugs, plating the food up on his uniform black, square plates. Yours sits neatly on a plate of it’s own, soy sauce and all. Sometimes you wonder if he keeps an index of your take out orders or if his memory is just that good. “Shipping out soon. Figured I’d get it while I could.”

You grin and move behind him. He shivers slightly as you push your cool hands up under his shirt to run along his strong core. “Doesn’t have anything to do with the whole aphrodisiac thing?”

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, bird.” Simon feigns ignorance. The corner of his mouth briefly quirks up before he forces it back down.

“Sure, sure.” You retract your hands, wandering over to pick up the TV remote off the well worn coffee table. “Which movie are we on?”

“Blackwell Ghost 5.”

You settle in your usual spot on the couch, leaning on the right armrest. Simon has always liked the middle - he says it’s the best for his back. You know it’s just because he likes to manspread five miles wide. It doesn’t bother you, as you generally prefer to curl up in the corner with your feet tucked. The movie rolls and you eat in comfortable silence, humming around the fresh food. He really does spoil you, sometimes.

You eye Simon while you eat. With anybody else this would all be pretense - an unnecessary preamble to imply, somehow, that this is more than a booty call. Not with Simon. Never with Simon. This is just as important as the rest of it. You watch the way his hands practically dwarf the single-use chopsticks, the way his body melts into the cushions. Your eyes rake over the strong planes of his face littered with various scars; his nose broken one too many times, the ear that’s been slightly clipped by a bullet. His hair has grown out and more stubble sprinkles across his jaw than he usually allows.

“Wotcha lookin’ at?” Simon mumbles around some tuna.

You tilt your head, smiling. “You’re fun to watch.”

“Creep.” He nudges your foot with his knee.

“Freak.” You push back.

“’ow’s the book goin’?” Simon asks.

You groan, shoving your last piece of sushi in your mouth while you debate your answer. “S’fine. Slow. My agent is being a real pain in my ass.”

He hums, that slight smirk gracing his lips. If you knew him any less you might have missed it entirely. “Need some inspiration?”

You sputter out a laugh, placing your plate on the coffee table. “Very smooth, Riley.”

“C’mere.” Simon rumbles, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you over his lap. It’s almost uncomfortable how far you have to stretch to accommodate his hips, but its so worth it as his hands rest on your waist, grinding you down against him. You gasp, giving him entrance to press his lips to yours - tongue flicking over your lower lip.

One hand tangles in his hair, the other caressed downward, shoving his shirt up and tracing the lines of muscle across his torso. You’ve always loved bodies - loved taking in their shapes and texture, their variety - and Simon’s has so much to take in. Ridges of muscle and scars, plus that little plush layer over his middle he gets while home from deployment. You tug on his shirt, only breaking the kiss long enough to yank it off and toss it somewhere on the floor.

“Y’so fuckin’ pretty…” Simon mumbles, hands wandering from your waist, to your hips, to knead at your thighs and the curve of your ass.

You squeak as Simon lifts you, locking your legs around his waist. No matter how many times he does it, his strength still catches you off guard. He doesn’t unlock from your lips, moving back to his room purely based on muscle memory. You have to resist the urge to tease him about the time he knocked your head against the doorframe in this exact position.

Your hands drift over the curvature of his broad shoulders as he lays you back on his bed. You can’t help but be fascinated by him - all hard muscle and sinew. So different from your own soft figure. Even the pads of his fingers are rough as they push under your oversized t-shirt, kneading at the soft layer over your middle.

“This okay?” Simon mumbles in your ear. You nod vigorously as his hands move up, up, up until he’s pulling your shirt and bralette off in one swift motion.

Simon buries his face in your chest, nipping at the sensitive skin before taking a nipple in his mouth. You arch into the touch, unsure of where to put your hands and opting to let them wander.

“May I?” He murmurs, fingers catching in the hems of your underwear and sleep shorts. Again, you nod, forgetting that isn’t enough for him at this stage. “Use your words.”

“Yes! Please, Si.” You whine, rolling your hips against the too-light touch.

Simon chuckles at you, pulling your bottoms off and dropping them onto the floor somewhere. He runs his fingers between your folds, obviously reveling in the way your breath catches and your chest heaves when he finally circles your clit. His lips connect with yours, swallowing every gasp and moan as he presses a finger inside.

“Fuckin’ tight t’night, bird.” He grumbles into your mouth. “‘ave I been neglecting you?”

Quite the opposite. If anything, he’s fucked you silly this past week, but you can’t exactly argue that when he presses against your g-spot and retakes your nipple between his teeth.

“Oh, fuck!” You moan as a second finger joins the first. Your nails dig lightly into his shoulders when he pressed his thumb against your clit, moving in short circles to the rhythm of the fingers inside you. You swear he’s too dexterous to be human sometimes.

You keen, body tensing as stars dance behind your eyes. You can feel the slickness of your cunt on your thighs, the squelch of Simon’s slowed movements almost too lewd.

He only disappears long enough to shuck off his pants before he’s hovering back over you, tucked into the crook of your neck. Simon gives you a moment to come down, cooing praises in your ear. “Doin’ so good f’me. Always so good f’me.”

He sits back to lightly tap his cock against your pussy, sending jolts up your spine, obviously enjoying your reaction. He grinds his cock against you, sliding easily between your soaked folds. “Christ.”

Simon reaches into the nightstand, plucking a condom out from their designated spot. He hands it to you for inspection, as always. You don’t really understand why he still does it after the two of you have had this standing agreement for so long, but it’s not a gesture you’re going to call into question. Some of Simon’s sexual habits are simply best left as they are - they’re always for your mutual benefit, anyway. You flip it over in your fingers briefly before passing it back.

No matter how many times you take him, it’s always a stretch. He’s not the biggest you’ve had, but thick enough the sensation would teeter into pain without any preparation. That’s another thing he insists on: pain has no place in intimacy.

Your lips fall open in a pitchy moan - hands fisting the sheets on either side of you. Simon falls onto his forearms resting on either side of your head. You revel in the way he cages you in, the way his tongue laps at the sweat-slicked skin of your collar bone. You both sigh in sync as his hips finally settle against yours.

You wrap your legs tightly around his back as he begins to move. A solid rhythm slowly turning into something more desperate. Simon sits up, his weight suddenly off you. Just as you crack your eyes open his hands grab tightly onto your hips, lifting them just off the bed. The new angle ruts him against that spot inside you, pushing you over the edge into another orgasm faster than you can process it.

He eventually lets go of your hips, one hand braces by your head, the other tracing your body. Plucking at your nipples, kneading at the flesh of your thighs, pressing onto your soft stomach to emphasize the fullness with him inside you.

“Give me another.” Simon demands, thumb pressing to your clit. His eyes bore through you, watching your every minute expression. “C’mon, one more, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. A rarer pet name - one you’d probably be pissed about coming from anyone else. With Simon it melts into your bones, pooling at the base of your spine. Your eyes roll back, pathetic sounds and babbling falling from your lips as you cum again in such a short span.

“Fuck.” He grunts, voice low and breathless in your ear. “Cunt feels so fucking good when you cum f’me.”

You whine, useless under him. Your limbs are utter jelly. Even as you try to roll your hips with his, your movement is stuttered. Uncontrolled. You know he enjoys how sensitive you are, how pliant you become. It feeds his ego - the part of him that needs to do things right. Your body shudders under Simon’s as he groans, all depth and gravel, his hips stuttering and slowing as he cums.

You both stop, for a moment, foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath enough for Simon to push himself up, tying off the condom and tossing it before falling into his back beside you.

A silence lapses over you - the only sound in the room is that of your breathing with a slight pitch difference between your breaths. You’ve always loved this part. The quiet afterglow. The gentle way Simon will reach over to soothe down your hair while you lazily meet his eye. No words, no expectations. Just existing with someone in your vulnerability. With someone you know is safe.

“Go piss.” Simon points to the bathroom as soon as his breath is even.

You snort, pushing yourself up on slightly shaky arms. “So demanding.”

“So considerate.” He quips back. “It’s important.”

“Fine, fine.” You throw your hands up and pad off to the bathroom. You pause, looking at yourself in the mirror. What is it about Simon’s bathroom that makes you so much more beautiful than your own? Your skin glows nicely, your hair shines even as it’s mussed up from getting fucked six ways to Sunday.

When you come back Simon’s sitting up against the headboard, scrolling through something on his phone. You crawl back into bed beside him, flopping on your back and staring at the ceiling fan as it circles, circles, circles.

“When do you have to leave?”

He sighs, dropping his phone back onto the nightstand. “End of the week.”

You nod, accepting the oncoming semi-dry spell as usual. You’ve always wondered what he does when he’s gone - if he has another you out there. Another arrangement. You can’t imagine Simon going more than a couple days without someone. That’s what brought you into this in the first place - a mutual benefit. You don’t truly feel the need to ask; it’s more curiosity than anything and you don’t want the question to go misinterpreted. Not that Simon would, necessarily, he’s always been good about taking your words at face value.

With a sigh, you roll onto your side to face him, head propped on your hand. “Know where you’re heading?”

“Mexico.” Simon grunts in that tone that signals you to stop asking questions.

You trail your fingers over his chest, through the dusting of blonde hair. “Wanna go again?”

“Fuck yes.” He rolls over. You can’t help but giggle as he knocks your knees apart and eagerly plants himself between your thighs.

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outsideratheart · 3 months ago

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Shoot Your Shot (Alexia Putellas x Olympic Gymnast!reader)

A/N: I know it’s been a while but I am hoping to get back to writing again. Here’s a little Alexia Olympics fic. I hope you guys like it.

The night had been a blur but in the best possible way. Alexia had dreamt about representing Spain in the Olympics for years and to win a gold was always the goal. It was a goal she and the team achieved after beating Brazil in the final.

She had truly let loose and celebrated what this achievement meant to her, her team and the people of Spain.

Here’s the thing about Alexia, when she was drunk she became very very confident. So much so that in her intoxicated state she did something she has wanted for do for a while, she shamelessly slid into your DMs.

It’s how she found herself standing in the Olympic village with her hands as clammy as can be the following day.

“Ale, what’s wrong?” Irene asked her club team mate.

The woman in question could only shake her head. Her thoughts were running 100 miles an hour and she couldn’t help but think it was a mistake. Had drunken Alexia stitched currently Alexia up?

“Haven’t you heard?” Jenni playfully nudged her former club captain “Alexia here got drunk and messaged Y/N Y/L/N. That’s why she is so nervous, she is meeting up with her this afternoon”

Irene couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She knew Alexia was an admirer of you, everyone did. The Catalonian watched every single one of your events and if she couldn’t watch them live then she would watch them as soon as she got into the locker room.

“You did?” Irene asked in disbelief.

Alexia could couldn’t speak. She could only nod her head as a form of response.

She thinks back to the night before. She had been celebrating for hours and drank bottle after bottle of the finest wine France had to offer.

Hola guapa

That is what Alexia messaged you on Instagram. The reason why you even responded is lost on her but she did make a mental reminder to ask you about it.

“So?” Jenni asks Ale.

“So?” Alexia had a dumfound look on her face.

“What are you going to say to her? We all know that drunk Alexia is confident but sober Alexia is not, she is quiet and doesn’t make the first move” the forward knew her friend too well. She knew exactly what Alexia is like and once hearing about her quest, she made it her mission to help her.

“I don’t know Jenni. I couldn’t stop talking last night but now, now I have no idea what to say” Alexia began pacing back and forth.

The nerves were surfacing and they made Alexia feel sick. Not only did she think you were beautiful, you were also the most decorated gymnastic in history. That itself came with a level of intimidation that Alexia was dreading.

She knew her friends were trying to help but they were only making her feel worse. She needed to escape but that didn’t happen. No, instead of peace she found herself being hit several times by her team mates.

“There she is!” Jenni slapped Alexia extra hard. She herself was excited at the thought of meeting you.

“Leave. Now. Please” Alexia whisper shouted.

“No. Let’s go see her” Jenni had already started walking towards you.

“You can hide behind me if you get scared” Irene teased her friend. It was rare to see Alexia this nervous so she made a point to enjoy it.

You were talking to some other athletes when the three Spaniards approached you. You know it was rude but Alexia was the only one you paid attention to. You didn’t think it possible but she was even more stunning in person.

“Alexia!” You were excited and it came through in your tone.

You all but ran towards her. Did you look eager? Yes but you didn’t care.

“Y/N, it’s so nice to finally meet you” Alexia did something out of character. She pulled you into her arms.

This earned looks from both of her friends who upon seeing the midfielders action realised that maybe Alexia’s feelings were more serious that then thought.

“So we are going to leave you two to explore and are going to meet up with the rest of the team” Irene nudged Jenni in the opposite direction of where you and Alexia were heading.

Jenni teased that she would only leave if you two took a photo together. It was something you happily agreed to if it meant getting some one on one time with the Barcelona player.

You and Alexia agreed on walking to one of the coffee shops located in the village, the one that had become a favourite of yours. Alexia kept stealing glances at you only she wasn’t being as subtle as she thought because after each time she looked at you, you felt a fire set a light in you.

“Do I make you nervous?” You tried to lighten the mood by teasing a little.

“Yes. Very much” Alexia was scared to admit this. Besides, she knew you knew otherwise you wouldn’t be asking her.

“You weren’t nervous last night” you playfully nudged her causing her cheeks to flush red within an instant.

“I’m sorry for that. I celebrated a little too hard”

“Why are you apologising? Congratulations again”

“I must have said some embarrassing things. It’s why I don’t drink and text”

“Hmmm, you did tell me that but then you told me that if you didn’t use your liquid courage to talk to me then it would have been a waste” you couldn’t help but giggle as you recalled Alexia’s honest words.

“I said that?”

“Yes. Haven’t you read the messages this morning?” You ask knowing that you had read the messages numerous times since you woke up.

This did nothing for the way Alexia felt. Should she have read them? Did she say something that needs re-reading?

“I haven’t. Did I say something bad?” Alexia asked scared of the answer.

“You didn’t. You talked about football and asked about gymnastics. We talked about how much we have been watching each other throughout the tournament. Oh! As requested” you reached into your pocket and got the pin Alexia asked for. You briefly looked at it. It wasn’t the normal Team USA pin, no it was your personal one. The one you reserved for friends and the athletes you respected the most.

Alexia looked lost. Her gaze went from the pin, to you and the back to the pin. She learnt from social media that the Olympians traded pins but she had no idea why you were giving her one or what you meant by she requested it.

In that moment you realised that maybe Alexia had drank a little more than you originally thought.

“You don’t remember asking for this, do you?”

The way Alexia innocently pointed to herself was adorable.

“Yes, you” you poked her playfully in her chest “Last night we talked about what we wanted in life and you said to take me on a date and a pin”

“This isn’t the USA one” Alexia closely inspected the pin you had placed in her hand. She then holds it up so you could see the pin as if you hadn’t seen it before.

“No, it is not. I get asked to swap pins all the time and 90% of people get the USA pins, this pin” you reach into your pocket and show Alexia the pin in question “only friends and athletes I admire and respect get that one” you point to the one you gave Alexia.

The Spaniard’s cheeks flush red as she rubs her finger over your name that was within a gold heart.

“Gold?” She raises her eyebrows. The whole world expected you to get gold this Olympics, multiple at that. Clearly by the pin you expected this of yourself too.

You don’t agree nor do you disagree. Instead your response comes in the form of a shrug of the shoulders.

“I don’t have a pin for you” Alexia admitted.

“That’s ok. They don’t have to be swapped. I’ll happily give you it Alexia”

Alexia stood there in awe of you. She recognised your beauty through the screen but she soon learnt standing in front of you that it didn’t do you justice.

You stood there is the same awe. Alexia was a sight to behold. You had watched every game of hers you could. Maybe you should have been cheering for the USA but you were raised a Barcelona fan so from the very beginning you wanted certain Spanish players to succeed. She was known as La Reina and now more than ever you understand why. She was a queen. Her eyes radiated under the French sun and you could spend hours getting lost in them.

“Shall we?” Alexia held out her arm and you linked through them. The act wasn’t an intimate as hand holding but it was very sweet.

“We shall” you wondered if the smile on your face was as big as it felt.

For the next hour, you and Alexia walked around the Olympic village trying all of the different food stalls. When you see it, you pull her over to the chocolate muffin stand.

“You have to try this” you peel back the wrapper and hold it out to her. She eyes it up suspiciously as if she is thinking about whether or not to try it.

“Alexia, I -“

“Ale” she cuts you off.

“Ale?” You ask with furrowed brows.

“My friends call me Ale”

“Is that what you want us to be? Friends?” You know you are pushing a little bit but this was a date. You were trying to find out if Alexia asks her friends out on dates.

She bashfully shakes her head which causes you to nod yours. This ends with both of you having shy smiles on your faces.

“Try it. It will be one of the best muffins you taste in your life” it was a bold statement but you stood by it. You had eaten a couple of these during the last two weeks and you had a huge sweet tooth so you felt qualified to rank the sweet treat.

When Alexia takes a bite her eyes widen, heR head tips back and you know she agrees with you. The grin that spread across her face when she looks at you is adorable.

“That’s so good”

She then takes another bite before taking it out of your hands and holding it out for you to have a bite.

Time seems to run away from you because the couple of hours that you had planned to spend together pass by and before you know it the sun is setting in the sky.

You wanted to squeeze every second out of the night but you remember Alexia telling you that the team was flying back to Spain the following morning.

“I’m this way” you point in the direction for where you were staying.

“I’m that way” Alexia does the same and of course her hotel is in the opposite direction “come with me” she tilts her head on the same direction.

“Is that a question or?” You joke with her. She could have been asking or telling you, you didn’t mind.

“Well you gave me this” she holds up your pin “you swap them, no?”

You nod your head with a mixture of confusion and intrigue. Alexia said she didn’t have a pin. Did she mean that she didn’t have one with her.

“So come with me and get your gift” Alexia, for the first time that day, sounded truly confident.

She lead you down the streets of Paris. Like last night the two of you began talking but in person it got a lot more personal. You talked about the hurdles you both had to overcome in order to compete at the Paris Olympics and to do so at the highest level.

Soon enough Alexia is grabbing your hand and pulling you into one of the 5 star hotels located in the heart of the city. You expected her to drop your hand when you enter the reception area only she doesn’t. The act fills your stomach with butterflies.

When you enter the elevator and Alexia scans her room key you realise that she must be taking you to her room.

She opens the door and heads straight for her luggage.

“I was too nervous to re-read our messages. I thought I might have said something embarrassing. If I had remembered that I asked for your pin them I would have brought you this”

She held up a red Spain jersey, her jersey.

“Is this-“

“From the gold medal match? Yes. It’s the shirt I wore during the first half”

“Alexia, I cannot accept this. It should be framed or given to your mother, not to a stranger” you immediately give her the shirt back.

“I want to give it to you. Today has been one of the best days I’ve had a long while” you give her a look and she knows exactly what you’re thinking “one of the best days off the pitch”

She holds it out for you to take. At first you don’t, you can’t. Alexia doesn’t budge and you honestly think she will hold out that shirt for hours if that’s how long it took for you to accept it.

In the end you do grab the shirt but you also grab her hand and pull her close to you. You lean in and kiss her softly on her lips. Just as you are about to pull back, Alexia pulls you in for another kiss.

“Now you’ve had everything you wanted” you say with a smirk of your face.

“I don’t understand” the Spanish says.

“Last night you told me you wanted three things. The first two you told me straight away and the third you told me just before we said goodnight”

Still, Alexia was at a loss. You told her what she said she wanted and it was only two things. She is about to ask you what the third one was but then she sees you running your index finger over your lips and it clicks.

“I told you I wanted to kiss you?” Alexia couldn’t believe what she had confessed to you. She would have felt embarrassed to admit just after spending the day with you, never mind last night when you were practically strangers.

You nod your head.

“What if I told you I wanted to kiss you again?” Alexia asks only this time she owns her question.

“I’d tell you to come over here and get what you want”

You didn’t need to tell Alexia twice. She strutted over to you with the most confidence you have seen her with that day. She cupped your face and pulled you in. The kiss was a little bit deeper that the first kiss. You slowly push Alexia back until her knees buckle against the foot of the bed.

She doesn’t make an effort to push you off her. If anything she encourages the passion and you are happy to oblige. Both you and Alexia fought for dominance but ultimately you don’t get to find out how would come our victorious.

The sound of a keycard been swiped has you both frozen in place but still neither of you make any effort to move. It’s as if the person of the other side of the door won’t see the two of you if you are still.

“ALEXIA!”

It seems the the woman who you are still straddling recognises the voice before you do.

“Por dios” Alexia, whose hands are resting dangerously low on your back, taps you signalling for the two of you to get up.

When you turn around you see Jenni standing in the door only she is joined by a different player than she was with this morning.

“Nice to see you again Jenni. Nice to meet you….”

“Misa” the keeper introduces herself “you’re Y/N Y/L/N?”

The Madrid keeper also admired you only she was bold enough to tell her team mates she has a crush on you. Knowing this information is enough to wake the green eyed monster within Alexia.

“Yes, she is. Sorry about those two. I did text them asking for them to message me when they were on their way back” Alexia apologises for the interruption.

“We did! Look” Jenni shows Alexia the 5 text messages she sent her and then shows that she even tried to called her twice

“Let them off Ale. We were pre-occupied” the smirk that tugs on your lips in enough to heat up Alexia’s cheeks.

The four of you stand in the hotel room waiting for someone else to speak first. In the end a text from your manager makes you be the one to break the short silence.

“I need to go”

“No” Alexia whispers.

“It’s late and you have a flight to catch in the morning” you move closer to her “thank you for an amazing day Alexia and thank you for this” you hold up her jersey.

“When can I see you again?” The two of you lived in different countries and had very gruelling schedules but Alexia wanted to know that today wouldn’t be the last time she saw you.

“You’re in America in the next couple of weeks. I’ll see if I can make it to one of the games so keep an eye out in the crowd” you kiss her softly on the lips.

“Will you be wearing my jersey?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see”

#Alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #barcelona femeni one shot #espwnt x reader #espwnt one shot #espwnt imagine

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justagirlwholikesadam · 11 months ago

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Sandor's Secret

Sandor Clegane x Fem! Reader

Summary: Sandor has a secret hidden away from everyone.

A/n: I should be writing The Wolf Among Men but I can't. Once i have an idea, I need to let it out. This is one of them. I do hope you enjoy and remember please comment. I read all the comments and it makes me so happy and gives me the boost to keep writing. ENJOY! - L

WARNING: NFSW, we are fucking, whore, Sandor likes it dirty, Hidden away from everyone, mention of abuse but not from Sandor. Border Credit: @black-dread

Word Count: 3.4K

Sandor has a secret, he’s been having it for a few years now. No one knew about it and he tends to keep it that way but the ones who were too nosy...there were taken care, of course.

No one will ever take you away from him.

Sandor has too many enemies in King’s Landing because of his brother’s wicked ways. His brother, Gregor had enemies throughout the seven kingdoms and most of the time Sandor will be the one suffering the consequences. Enemies usually thought that they could fight or hurt Gregor’s little brother to get back at him, but at the end of every fight the enemy is lying cold on the ground with their throat split open or a sword rammed into their stomach. That's why he has hidden you.

His shift taking care of the king’s bastard ended and he was walking to his small home. He lived a few miles away from King’s Landing. He had declined the housing that the king provided him in the castle. He didn't want it. He liked his privacy, was what he said. Making it home, he walked Stranger to the small stable near the house. Making sure the horse was fed and had fresh water, he shut the stable door before walking to the house. He stood in front of the wooden door and knocked five times and jiggled the knob. This was a sign he came up to make it known it was him outside.

A few seconds later, the door opened and he was pleased at the sight in front of him.

He walks in before you can jump in his arm. This was something he had gotten used to and he loves it how you greet him like this after a hard day taking care of the spoiled brat. You didn't mind the blood or the sweat on him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You kissed him on the lips. He puts you down and you immediately start to help him remove his armor. Sandor can smell the stew warming on the fire as he sits on the chair near the dining table. You knelt down in front of him and began to unlace his boots.

“Don’t gotta-”

“Hush.” You cut him off with a smile. You had this conversation with him many times before. He told you he didn't expect any special treatment since he bought you. You would shake your head and tell him it’s something you are willing to do just like you're willing to continue to sleep and live with him.

You were fresh off the boat when you came to King's Landing. No family and no money, there was the only thing to do. Sell your body. Little Finger inspected your body, lifting your arms and touching your breasts. He looked pleased when he grabbed a handful of your ass and sent you to an empty room. That night Little Finger had told the girls, the King's guards would be coming after a successful hunting trip and the whorehouse started to prepare for their paying guests.

Guards came in and you can hear their laughter and hollering as they picked their woman of the night to keep them warm. The whispers came when you saw the largest and tallest man you have ever seen walk in. You had no idea who this man was but everyone froze for a minute before turning away from him.

“Looking for a girl.” He told Little Finger. The smaller man gave him a smile and spoke to him in a low tone. You looked down at the ground when you heard the words, fresh and unused. The tall man handed him a few coins. Little Finger called out for you and the ladies gave you a pity look as you walked towards him.

“This is her, Sandor. Easy on the eyes. She just came in. No one has touched her.” You grew the courage to look up at the tall man called Sandor. You realized why everyone was whispering. Half of his face was disfigured, burn.

“Hello, Sandor.” His brown eyes softened for a moment when you greeted him.

“Go on, take good care of the prince’s guard.” You nodded and without a single thought you grabbed one of his large hands. You looked up at him when you felt him tensed up but he quickly relaxed when you began to walk with him to your room. You kept ignoring the stares from the girls and the other guards as you continued to hold his hand. You wondered why everyone was making such a big deal about it. There were men and women with facial scars, it was nothing new to you.

You grew worried as you began to think more about it. What if he was aggressive? Mean? What if it gave him pleasure in harming the woman he slept with?

Opening the door for him, he continued to stare at you closely.

“Is something wrong, Ser?” You asked as he walked inside and sat on the edge of the bed after removing his sword. His eyes are still on you as you shut the door.

“I'm not a Ser. Not a knight.” He huffed out as he leaned his sword on the bed frame. “I see.” You told him before slowly walking towards him. “You are new around here? He asked.

“I am. Is it that obvious?” You said as you kneel down to help him unlace his large boots.

“You don't know me?” He asked as you began to remove his boot and quickly started working on the other. You shook your head at him and looked up to meet his gaze.

“I'm sorry, I don't but from what Little Finger said you're the Prince’s guard so you must be very important. I hope I can meet your satisfaction, Sandor. I’m new at bei..” Your words came into a halt when you looked away.

“Being a whore.” He finished your sentence. You nodded at him as you took his other boot off.

You were about to stand up when he raised his hand. “Stay down.” You obeyed and looked ahead, you grew red when you were staring between his legs. He spread his legs and you saw the outline of his bulge. He leans forward and his hand goes under your chin, making you look up at his face. He looked so confused when he saw no fear in your eyes.

Insecurity started to brew deep in your chest and you began to thought. Were you not up to his standards? He must have many beautiful women thrown at him because of who he is and who he works for.

“Sandor, I know I’m new but I swear I will be good. I don't wish to anger Little Finger. I fear he may kick me out.” You blurted out to him. You feel him touch your cheek and your hair. With his index finger under your chin, his thumb begins to trace your bottom lip. He pulled your bottom lip and you opened your mouth letting him put his thick thumb in your mouth. Closing your mouth, you began to suck on his thumb.

Sandor sat up straight in his seat when you brought him a bowl of stew and a plate of fresh bread. He nodded at thanks to you and began to eat quickly. He was starving and the woman in the kitchen of the castle doesn't know how to make food taste good like you. He looks across the table to see you sitting down with your own bowl. He found himself glad, he never would have thought he would be living with a woman. He thought he would end up alone for the rest of his life. Now he has a beautiful woman living with him, cooking for him, treating him like a person and keeping him warm.

He found himself thinking about that night, he met you. Sleeping with you was something he never experienced. Perhaps it was because you were so kind to him, you didn't flinch when you stared at his face. You were an eager thing to please and he loved it. Sandor knew his fate was sealed when you kissed him at the doorway the morning after. You didn't have too, he told you but you simply told him. You wanted to and if it was alright to kiss him again. He leaned down to meet you lips and kissed you hard that it left you breathless as he walked out of the whore house. He came back a week later, he couldn't stay away from you for too long. You and your sweet cunt occupied his mind. When he asked for you, Little Finger’s second in command gave him a small frown.

“Half off. Some animal hit her.” Sandor gave her a face but nodded, giving her the payment.

He walks to your room and the door is half open. He looked inside of your room, you're sitting on the edge of the bed. You felt his presence and looked at the door. Rage engulfs him completely when he sees you with a black eye and the side of your face is bruised.

“Sandor.” The way you said his name made snap back into reality and he quickly walked away.

Sandor finished his bowl before you, he got up to grab the pitcher of ale. He notices it’s almost empty and gets up to refill. He sees you’re about to get up from your seat to do it.

“It’s fine.” He tells you softly, pushing you back down on your seat. “Finish eating.” He tells you and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

He turns back to the table when he finishes and refills your cup as well before sitting back down on his seat with a sigh. Today was a hard day, he's tired on his feet. You noticed it when you finished your bowl. You tell him, you’ll heat his bath water. You're about to grab his bowl as well when he grabs your wrist, pulling you towards him gently. He knows he's strong and the last thing he ever wants is to hurt you. He can't hurt you, you're his. He'll die before hurting you. Taking the bowls from your hands, he places it back on the table.

Sitting on his lap, you wrap an arm around his neck. You're blushing at his gaze. Sandor staring at you was something you always blushed at. He stared intensely and it made you wet. No words need to be said because both of you knew what each other wanted. Cupping his cheek, you feel his scars under your touch. You liked the touch of it since the first time you laid with him and you still loved it even after he took you away from the whorehouse.

Sandor returned a few minutes later with a maester. He stood at the corner of the room while the maester looked at your eye and your face. You wondered how Sandor knew that Little Finger hadn't even offered to get you looked at. When the maester was gone, Sandor walked towards you.

“Get your belongings, girl. We are leaving.”

Sandor is the one to pull you in for a kiss. He tasted like ale and the stew, he was so warm as well. He tightens his hold around you as you open your mouth, his tongue slips inside of your mouth and you can't help but moan. His arm around you, his other hand goes between your legs. He groans as he pushes the hem of your dress up so he can touch your bare skin, your bare cunt. He groans once more in your mouth when he feels your lips, he spreads them with his fingers to touch your clit. You pull away from his lips to cry out as his fat thumb circles around it. He nips and kisses the side of your neck enjoying the whimpering coming from your mouth.

“I think about this cunt all the time. I smelt it all day on my mustache.” The thought of your nectar on him all day made you blush. He woke you up this morning at dawn with his head between your legs.

“Sandor.” You whispered his name. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue.

“Can I suck your cock? Please.” He nods as his eyes twinkled with excitement. You slide down from his lap and kneel between his legs. He stares down at you as your hands unlaced his trousers. Licking your lips when you pull out his cock. It feels heavy and hot in your hand. You bring your other hand to get a better hold of it.

Sandor starts to breathe heavily as you lick his head, humming as you tasted his salty pre-cum.

“Fuck.” He whispered under his breath when you spit on his cock, he felt a blob of spit run down his shaft. Your hands are jerking him as you start to suck him off. You moaned as his cock stretches your mouth wide as you try to take him all in.

Sandor brings a hand behind your head, grasping your hair as you start to gag on his fat cock.

“Shit-t. Yes, just like that.” He huffs out when feels your hand cupping his balls over the trouser. Sandor throws his head back when his cock reaches the back of your throat.

His praise only makes you suck him harder, your jaw starts to ache but it’s worth it. Seeing this giant man turn into putty because of your mouth was everything to you. Breathing through your nose you reach all the way to the end. Sandor moans when he feels your nose touch his pubic bone.

Sandor pulls you away and you gasp when you feel him sliding out. Tongue out, breathing harshly for air and eyes filled with tears, you look up at him.

“Come here.” He tells you and helps you up. You lean against him as he kisses you. He kisses your cheeks frantically as you try to catch your breath.

“Bed.” He nods at you as he stands up removing his clothes.

He feels like his nickname, a hound staring at you. His nose is tingling as he watches prey, you undress. You had looked over your shoulder and blushed when you met his face. He’s ready to pounce, ready to sink his teeth on the only good thing he has in his life.

“Everything okay?” He watched you walk over towards him when you were done. He wanted to purr when he felt your hand rub his stomach all the way up to his chest. You were biting your lips when you touched his thick dark hairs on his body. His chest was hard and you can feel the old heal scars splatter on his chest.

Sandor just nods. He doesn’t answer. Cat got his tongue when he feels you touch his cock with one hand. You let out a surprise yelp when he grabbed you by the chin making you look up at him as he kissed you. He kissed you so messy and passionately, he nips your lips and consume you. When your legs start to wobble from being on your tippy toes, you pull away from him. He gives a mad huff and pushes you gently on the bed.

You push yourself to the middle of the bed, opening your arms for him as he gets between your legs. You wince from the sudden movement. Sandor is a big man, his waist is wide. When he’s on you, he completely covers you under his frame.

“Fuck.” He moans when his lips start to attack your chest. He pinches your nipples making you cry out, he drowns you out with his kisses.

“Tell me? How? Now?” He says as he licks the valley of your breasts down to your navel making you squeal. He pulls away for you to move.

“Like the first time.” You mumbled turning around with your ass in the air. You earn yourself a slap on the ass, it makes you quiver. You let out a moan when he gets behind you, a heavy hand on your shoulder while the other rests on your hip.

“You came all over my cock the first time, remember?” You nod at him, shoving your face in the pillow so he didn’t have to see your blushing face.

“Milked me dry, girl. Took all my cum deep inside of you.” Sandor says as he brings his hand from your hip down to your ass. He squeezes it, pulling a cheek to the side to see your waiting holes. He’s not surprised when he feels your pussy dripping wet. He growls because of it and cups your mound possessively. A smirk grows on his face when he feels the soft curled hairs on your mound get wet as he spreads your slick all over your mound.

You cry his name out as he holds you, your wet cunt is throbbing for his cock.

“Please. Fuck me.” You beg him and his hands goes back to your hip making you arch your back. You feel the hair on his stomach touch your ass as he leans over you, you clenched the pillow under you as you feel the tip of his cock. It’s so hot and big, Sandor’s above you, giving you praises as he splits you open. He even gives your ass a rub when he slowly slides in.

You gasped when he slid himself to the hilt. You feel him in your tummy, that fat mushroom head is knocking on the door of your cervix and his heavy balls are resting on top of your clit. Sandor holds you down and takes his time so your sweet cunt is used to his size. He feels you clenching around him, he feels you under him moving your ass.

“Not even going to wait for me.” He tells you when he feels you throwing your ass back softly.

“It feels so good. I’m so full.” Sandor leans over you making you cry out by how deep he’s getting. He moves the pillow under your chin and he pushes your head to the mattress to the side.

You gripped the sheets under you as he began to move. Each thrusts you’re crying out, moaning as he fucks you from you behind. You feel your toes curl up when he begins to growl when he grabs your hips and uses you like his personal toy. Moving you up and down on his cock, his hand stays on your face, covering you completely.

He cages your head behind you as he ruts into you. You’re crying his name and Sandor is loving it because it’s his name you’re calling out, his name coming out those lips he loves so much. He whispers your name behind your head, he kisses the back of your head when he feels your tight cunt pulsing around him.

“Yes. Yes.” He says as he slips his hand between your legs. “You’re soaked.”

Sandor helps you get near, he’s about to cum. All day working, stomach filled with delicious stew and cock being milked by you. A perfect ending after a long day.

“Pleasee.” You cry and Sandor looks down at you, you’re looking over your shoulder and it’s the only time Sandor shows his soft side with you. You only know this side of him.

“I got you, my pretty girl. Cum for me. Let go.” He tells you before kissing your lips. His fingers rubbing your clit as he fucks you harder. Your mind is fuzzy, your filled to the brim and you can hear him moaning your name on top of you. You can hear skin slapping against one another, his heavy balls slapping your clit making you clench him even harder. He holds you in place when you start to cum on him, on his cock. He feels it, he even lets out a moan of his own. You start to whine, salivating on the sheets when Sandor comes undone. He holds your body, making sure he unloads his cum deep inside of you.

Sandor watches you as you sleep on his chest, your fingers were in the middle of running through the massive amount of hair on his chest before you knock out completely. He holds you in his arms as he’s deep in thought. He chuckles to himself thinking what would Gregor do if he ever found out how pussy whipped Sandor had become for you.

He was, he wouldn’t deny it, just count the dead bodies he buried a few miles away. They all had failed to find out what was Sandor’s secret.

#sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane fanfic #sandor the hound clegane #sandor x reader #sandor clegane smut #games of thrones x reader #games of thrones #rory mccann #sfw

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doromoni · 4 months ago

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Take my Advice | MV1

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

Ships : Max Verstappen x F1 Driver! Reader

Genre : Fluff

A/N : As per y’all request. A Max fic *tadaaaa*

Summary : Being a female driver in Formula 1 is already an achievement and now you are the leading candidate for the Red Bull seat. But Max Verstappen has some advice.

Masterlist

A question for Y/N please” A reporter stood with a mic in hand, staring you down — the condescension in his eyes was palpable. You could feel your skin crawl as you waited for the man’s question.

Darry? Larry? what was his name again? He was a reporter notorious for asking rude and borderline unethical questions to drivers. How did he continue to have access to F1, you could not answer. You were his favorite target just because you were born with the XX chromosome or that you were too glamorous and girly to be driving at the pinnacle of motorsport — his words exactly.

“People are speculating that you would be moving to Red Bull in 2025 or even earlier, however, you just placed P10 in the last race. How confident are you that you’d be promoted to that seat given your lack of consistency in driving so far? Shouldn’t you think Daniel Ricciardo’s a better option? ”

Barry? Sally? whatever his name was finished talking, yet his sticky gaze never left you.

The smile on your face slowly hardened as you tried to keep your cool. You felt your veins pulsate with rage and your jaw clenched with force. Your hand gripping the microphone that you held till it felt like snapping in half.

Everyone was speechless, including the other drivers that were with you. The people who were seated beside you had their mouths agape. The driver lineup was composed of You, Oscar, Lewis, and Nando, with Alex and Max by your side. Everyone could feel the intense tension in the air. The absolute ignorance and stupidity of his statement hung in on the air…

You were dominating the midfield given the car that RB had given you. You garnered points for your team consistently — only fucking up when your team fucked up their strategies. You were outperforming your teammate by miles and you were pulling miracles out of nothing in that car and in that team.

“Well Danny is a very talented driver and I respect him immensely. I truly do wish the best for him and the team, but it’s not my job to compare stats between us, no?“ You answered with a smile and nothing but praises left your mouth.

Mama said kindness and peace are what make life go around. You lived by this every single day of your life, no matter how difficult it may seem — a smile goes a long way. You chose to make peace and give way to others when opportunities presented itself. Rather catch flies with honey than vinegar right?

You were since then dubbed as the sunshine of Formula 1 — a title that you didn’t want … because it was another thing that you stole from Danny, at least that's what others think. Even when your path to your F1 seat had never been easy, every step you took was criticized just because of you being a girl, but you persevered and faced everything head-on. Through the midst of it all, you, Y/N L/N, were the driver who held smiles, kindness and cheers.

Y/N L/N the driver to always take the blow for the team, the scapegoat, you were always the 1st one to be the sacrifice. But still, you held your head up high and carried on… because it was an honor to have a seat in the first place.

“Let me just get some things straight” Lewis had taken to himself to talk seeing that Gary? Donny? seemed not willing to back down with the intent to make you react.

“Y/N has been nothing but consistent. Look at the charts properly” Lewis argued, his face holding concealed anger as he stared down the reporter

“Thank you for that Lewis, but I did check — Y/N has placed P5, P8, and P10 for the last consecutive races” The entire couch of drivers could only shake their heads in disbelief at the utter nonsense that the man continued to spout

You were driving a car that was projected to be at the back of the grid, yet here you are gaining points regularly. No offense to your teammate but you were dragging Danny through the mud — heck fellow drivers could bet their entire fortune that given a better car, you would be battling Max and Lando for the championship.

“Check again. Check your eyes too mate, cause it seems like you’re going blind” Gaps and oohs filled the room as Max, much to your surprise, butted with all seriousness in his voice.

Max was an enigma to you, the way he switches from a fire-breathing beast on the track to a literal cat-cuddling, sim-racing nerd and overall wholesome person once he finishes a race compelled you to explore and dig into the mind of Max Emilian Verstappen.

Yet you couldn’t because he was untouchable. The golden boy of Red Bull, the champion, their number 1. They would kill you if you got your business entangled with the Dutch driver. Fuck with him and you could kiss your chances at a seat in Red Bull goodbye. Unfortunately for you, you just had to have a big fat crush on the very same driver.

You weren’t even sure when your admiration for Max’s tenacity and sheer talent on the track turned into you looking at the Dutch with hearty eyes and wondering how he would taste on your lips. Maybe he would taste like the Red Bull he always seemed to drink or was it him tasting entirely of something else….. Oh, you were doing it again! Yup, you were indeed doomed.

Everyone on your team said to keep your distance and you did! Not that it was hard because Max did the same. It was weird he was always friendly to Daniel and Checo and even the other RB and Red Bull staff, but Max had this certain “coolness” when interacting with you. He was never rude or anything like that… Max just seemed guarded. Fuck! why did it have to be Max?!

“Y/N, anything to add?” the present hit you quick and fast — and that present was every pair of eyes in the room zoning in on you and your next statement.

You had so much to say and yet you presented the pr smile you practiced way too much, the smile the mirror in your driver's room knew too well. And with that same practiced smile, you stared down the reporter and uttered “Nope, nothing else from me. Thanks”

You swore you could hear Max scoff silently. Your head snapped to the Red Bull driver beside you instantly. You didn’t know what to expect but it wasn’t Max directly looking back at you with those piercing blue eyes and an eyebrow cocked upwards.

It seemed that you forgot how to blink because you just stared right into his gaze, your heart accelerating by the second — you had the same feeling you had at every start of a race; the adrenaline pumping in your veins, but instead of pushing your foot on the gas… you wanted to push your lips to his. WOAH. You needed to get a grip on yourself! Where the hell did that even come from?

Neither the two of you were backing down, only breaking eye contact when another reporter asked a question to Max. But before Max had answered, you saw him lightly shake his head sheepishly as the words “so fucking cute” whispered out of his mouth.

***

You were so fucking gutted. It was another race that your team had screwed you over for your teammate once again.

You were leading and you had clean air in front of you and your teammate was 5 seconds behind, everything was in place and you were in P10 when you suddenly heard from the radio to let Daniel overtake you.

You loved Danny, but that was so unfair! You tried to argue over the radio yet your appeals are once again disregarded by the team. You followed team orders and thought that this was for the long run that this would show that you were a team player and that you would be an asset as Max’s teammate in the future.

Yet no matter how much you tried to cheer yourself up or make excuses for the team, the anger and betrayal never dissipated.

You were dragging your feet towards your motorhome when suddenly you were pulled into the dark alley between your motorhome and McLaren’s hiding the two of you between used race tyres.

A shout was ready to leave your mouth when the person’s hand stopped you from doing so.

“It’s me, Max! Don’t shout” Max whispered as his eyes darted to see if anyone was looking.

The space between the motorhome wasn’t that spacious, so Max had you pushed into the wall. You could feel the heat radiating between the two of you, the taste of sticky champagne on Max’s hands transferring onto your lips.

The initial shock and Max’s closeness made you breathless and your mind spinning. What the hell is happening? Max slowly peeled his hand away from your lips.

“What the hell Max? You scared the shit out of me!” You wheezed as you breathed deeply, trying to steady your shakiness.

“There’s a difference between being nice and being a pushover. You can’t just bow down to every command your team gives you” Max had suddenly sprung on you. Your brain was reeling trying to comprehend what was happening.

“Max. I- uh… what?” only incomprehensible words fell out of your mouth.

Max held your shoulders as he bent down, his face now leveling yours. Max's face held all seriousness as his eyes, his eyes still shone with fire behind them even with the darkness that enveloped the two of you.

“Take my advice L/N, fight back and do what you want.” As Max said those last words — he was gone.

The only indication that told you that everything that happened was real was the Winner’s champagne tasting so sweet and tangy on your lips … the same champagne Max’s hand left.

***

“I chose Y/N” Max announced to the host and crew who were on the set. Everybody was shocked at the Dutch’s choice.

Red Bull and RB are filming another media junket for the fans to enjoy and everything was running normally till Max chose you as his teammate. Everyone, including you, was expecting him to pick Daniel when the staff said to choose your teammate from the other racing team.

“Aww! Max you’ve betrayed our years of friendship” Danny acted hurt as he held onto his heart, earning chuckles from everyone— which effectively diffused the atmosphere.

You smiled and rolled your eyes at your teammate’s antics. You made your way to Max’s side, careful not to be too close or too far for fans to overanalyze.

The distance between you and Max was at least 2 feet when he took it upon himself to step nearer towards you and smile his charming smile at you when you looked up at him quizzically.

Your heart was thundering in your chest, but your curiosity won over your nerves. What is going on with Max this couple of races? He had been very attentive and approachable towards you all of a sudden. Opening doors for you delivering water bottles, and giving your favorite snacks during media shoots and lots more. Not that you were complaining!

You couldn’t help yourself but ask the driver what was going on. You surveyed the room and found that everyone was focused on Checo and Danny.

You lifted your hand and discretely tugged on Max's shirt to gain his attention. And it worked as he found himself looking down into your eyes with curiosity.

“What is it Y/N?” Max asked lowly trying not to get everyone else to look at the two of you.

“What’s up with you recently?” You whispered back.

Max’s brows slightly crunched together.

“What do you mean?” He asked confused

“ I mean, you’re being so nice and attentive to me.” As the words spilled put your mouth, you realized just how stupid the question was. It was just Max being a decent person, right??

Max only chuckled and bent down to your ears, his lips ghosting the shell of it, sending goosebumps all over your body

“I’m just taking my advice Y/N. I’m doing what I want to do… team rules be damned”

***

Knocks echoed through your hotel room as you heard Max call for you to open the door.

You opened the door to a disheveled Max.

“Max?” you called out to the driver who pushed himself into your room and sat on your bed.

Ever since that day of the Media junket, you and Max grew closer together. You got to know Max than what was on the surface and you two quickly grew a bond that was more than just friendship.

The tension was there yet neither the two of you were acting on it. From his lingering touches that drove you crazy and the flirting disguised as banter you exchange on the daily— frustrating as it may seem, you loved every second of it.

You joined Max in your bed, you sat beside him and took his hand in your own. Your entwined fingers looked so unusual yet right together, it made you smile.

You feel Max tug on your hand trying to catch your attention. You looked up at him with a questioning stare

“They’re switching Checo and Daniel next season… they dropped you out of the roster” Max spoke carefully.

The smile on your face dropped instantly, as his words ran through your mind. Your face is painted white from disbelief.

They choose Daniel over you?

“What?” You whispered, the hurt and confusion evident in your face.

“You deserve to know before they announce it to everyone… you don’t deserve to be humiliated”

You were speechless. Tears didn’t even come pouring down … you were just in shock. You thought that the Red Bull seat was your, done deal. You’re so far away in the points from your teammate. Your driving was close to flawless … so why?!

You couldn’t even say anything. You just felt Max pull you into his embrace.

“If what I’ve heard from Mercedes is true, take it. Screw loyalty, that team failed you in every way. You deserve so much better”

***

“Y/N, final lap. Verstappen is 2 seconds behind, push the car. I repeat push the car” You hear Vince, your race engineer over the radio.

“With pleasure” you felt yourself smile. The excitement mixed with adrenaline pumping in your veins as you floored your Mercedes, driving the car to its maximum

Everything was a blur, you were on autopilot as you made every turn perfectly. As the past events that led to this moment played in your mind.

How you took Max’s advice and moved to Mercedes. You remember the relief when you penned your signature down on that contract as Toto was smiling wide at you, shaking your hand firmly as he welcomed you to his family.

You remember the feeling of sharing your first-ever podium with Max and him being so proud of you and what you’ve done so far. You were still in that scap RB car and this podium was the final “fuck you” to them, before you announce you switching teams. The self-doubt in your heart is being washed away by the sweet champagne that Max sprayed all over you. You knew you made the right choice.

And you couldn’t forget how Max had been with you when you finally dropped the bomb on RB and Red Bull. He had been through with you with every step.

And here you are now, chasing your first win in Formula 1 with the team capable to give you a winning car. You see the chequered flag waving and you hear the crowd roar as you finally cross the line

“Y/N L/N YOU ARE A GRAND PRIX WINNER!” You hear Toto over the radio and your team is cheering in the background.

“YES! YES! THANK YOU EVERYONE! WE DID IT” You shouted back as you parked your car on Parc Ferme.

you stepped out of the car you ran to the waiting arms of your team as they cheered and congratulated you continuously. When you finally to Vince who smiled so wide as he patted your helmet; his smile grew even wider as he looked behind you.

“Remove your helmet and balaclava.” He said as he offered his hand saying to give it to him. You looked at him confused but did as he said.

“Turn around” He shouted with glee as you heard everyone starting to cheer louder.

You did turn around and there stood Max Verstappen with a bouquet at hand, a smile on his face as his arms were opened wide.

Your jaw dropped and your hand covered your mouth in shock. The entire world was watching yet neither of you cared as you ran into Max's arms. You buried your face in his chest as his arm enveloped you.

“Hi boyfriend” You greeted the Red Bull driver with a grin

“Does Toto know?” Max asked as he looked at your team principal and mechanics that were shocked at what they were seeing.

“Well thanks to you EVERYONE now knows. Your not really slick there buddy” You giggled at the Red Bull driver’s antics.

Max kissed the side of your head before mumbling into your hair “ Well gotta let everyone know you’re mine . Congratulations on the win, Schat! I told you you’ll win ~ I could feel it”

You feel yourself chuckle and shake your head. You gazed up at the Dutch driver.

“Shut up and kiss me you dork” You whispered to Max, a gleam in your eye that he sure noticed.

“Yes, Ma’am” Max’s lips finally met yours in a sweet and passionate kiss — you knew what Max tasted like and you wouldn’t mind having another taste. Everything was just perfect and you would not exchange it for anything in the world.

“I always wondered what you tasted like” You said when you pulled apart. Your hand ran through his hair, something you wanted to do for ages.

“Really? What do I taste like?” Max asked clearly amused. His hand on your lower back now guiding the two of you to be interviewed.

“Sweat” You joked, and he only rolled his eyes and kissed you once more.

***

“ A question for Y/N please” You internally groaned and rolled your eyes as you heard his voice once again. This man was an actual menace.

“Yes, Hillary?” You said into the mic, a sickeningly sweet smile on your lips as you stared him down.

“It’s Harry” He corrected you.

“Oops, sorry Larry! please continue” You hear your fellow drivers snicker and hide laughs beside you.

It was like full circle, the same set of drivers in the interview — sat in the same positions yet now you were driving for Mercedes, clad in black instead of RB’s white race suit.

“Do you think Max let you win during the last race? He does fancy you.” You hear yourself laugh and you aren’t afraid to let others see. You’re no longer holding back for the sake of your team.

“I don’t know, Barry. I don’t know if you watched the race, but if you did might have seen that I already led the race at turn 1 till the final lap. no? And I sure do hope that he fancies me, considering he is my boyfriend afterall” You replied and couldn’t help yourself as you shot him a wink.

“You’re very confident, now that you’re in Mercedes. Huh?” Ohhh he was seething, if this were a cartoon he would have smoke coming out of his ears.

“ Yeah, I’m getting comfortable in my seat, thanks for asking. I’m only getting started” You said with a shit-eating grin.

To your left, you hear Max utter the words “ That’s my girl” proudly.

A/N ++ : I don’t know what to feel about my writing here tbh~ My brain is fried 🙃

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