#thinking some dakota gifs next

[beclynchs]

#liv morgan #clash at the castle #wwe #wweedit #women's wrestling #wrestlingedit #* #ladies and gentlemen: her #back in my gif era! #thinking some dakota gifs next

[chestharrington]

Fixation

Rating: E (18+)

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: SMUT (fingering, handjob, p in v). Dubious Consent (coercion, power imbalance, failure to pull out), unhealthy/probably illegal power imbalance, stripper!reader, gator is an asshole (like extremely), degradation, misogyny, sexual assault (by a non major character), brief violence, kind of stockholm syndrome if you think about it, unhappy ending

Summary: Gator Tillman’s fixation of the week just so happens to be you, for better or worse.

A/N: If you know me personally please do not read this thank u <3

The foggy clouds of your breath were painted pink by the glow of the neon sign— The Venus Lounge— with a cute little clamshell opening and closing and everything. 

You had a velour sweatsuit pulled over the skimpy costume you’d wear for your next dance, hot pink and bedazzled across the ass. It was trendy maybe fifteen years prior, so it cost just about nothing when you bought it at a bin sale. 

Sweet, strawberry-scented vapor poured from your lips as you exhaled. You hated this stupid thing— you’d rather smoke a cigarette like a goddamn adult. But the owner insisted, “You ladies gotta stay smelling nice and sweet and respectable for our clientele.” Which was fucking stupid considering they came in smelling like sweat and mud and body odor. 

From the alley, you could get a sneak peek of whoever was coming your way for the night— the big spenders, the handsy ones, the cheap ones… and Gator Tillman’s stupid entourage, who you avoided like the plague.

You made the mistake of getting cozy with him. Once. A few well-paid lap dances, then a private dance in one of the dimly lit back rooms. He’d been handsy, and you relished in it, in him. A handsome, powerful guy who looked at you like you were the hottest woman he’d ever seen. You sucked him off in the private room and he gave you a hundred to shut the fuck up about it. Like you were some sort of whore.

Gator. What a stupid fucking name. His dad was a grade-A cocksucker, so it made sense that he’d name his son something so goddamn stupid. The other girls were scared of Roy, with good reason. Their boyfriend get too rough? He’d brush it off— no domestic abuse charges on his watch. The man is the master of the house, and the woman is his property. One girl swore he came onto her, and she got a broken arm when she brushed him off. A lot of people thought that stepping to the Tillman’s meant winding up dead. 

Fuck that. 

You hadn’t wanted to wind up in this town anyway. You were married, once upon a time. You had the tattoo of his name on your hipbone, a shitty rental house in West Texas, and a wedding band he bought from a pawn shop. He found a job up north, and you followed like an obedient puppy. 

It wasn’t your fault he’d racked up gambling debts— that he owed the wrong people money he didn’t have. And it wasn’t your fault that he was fucking a waitress at the local diner— thin, blonde, perky. The divorce was settled quickly— but you were left penniless, in bumfuck North Dakota, in Tillman territory. 

Well, it was a good thing you still had your looks. 

You saw the police cruiser pull into the lot, heard the slam of the car door and the mindless chatter between the valiant boys in blue. Those assholes did about as much for the city as a tick does for a dog. Your phone buzzed against your hip, warning you that your break was up. You took one more puff from your vape and slipped back in the door to the dressing room. 

You warned everyone that Gator and his boys were out there as you slipped out of your jogging suit and adjusted your dancewear beneath— a baby blue bikini set that you’d bedazzled by hand. You slipped a sheer skirt overtop and surveyed yourself in the mirror. There was still a flush on your cheeks from being out in the cold, but it would be fine. 

You slipped out onto the floor, passing by crowded tables. It was busy, even for a Saturday, which meant more money to take home. A hand grabbed your ass and squeezed it in a meaty paw. It was some drunk old guy who probably couldn’t even get it up anymore but had maintained his pervy inclinations. You bit your cheek to keep from saying anything and kept making your rounds.

“You want a dance?” You’d ask the safe guys— the ones who looked nervous to be there, whose eyes kept flitting around like they’d get caught any moment. Their button-ups were ironed, their slacks pressed. Usually, they had a nice fountain pen in their pocket. Clerks, CPAs, any of those nerdy desk jobs. 

Most of the time they declined, too nervous to go that far, but occasionally you’d get a yes, do a bit of grinding, and walk away with a nice tip. 

You’d done a few lap dances by the time you passed by Gator and his crew. Your money was tucked into the band at your hip, concealing your ex-husband’s name. 

He called you like a dog– whistling low. You froze, and turned to face him, all smug and pleased with himself. 

“You need somethin’, Deputy?” You asked, jaw clenched, raising a brow. “Because if you do, you can ask like a gentleman. I’m a lady, not a dog.”

He laughed, glancing back at his pack of asshole cops to make sure they saw the next part. “Really? ‘Cause it seems to me you’re actin’ like a bitch.” They all laughed, because of course they did. They thought he was so, so clever. Before you could respond, he held up a fifty-dollar bill between two fingers. “C’mere, girl. I want a dance.”

Your eyes flicked between him and the fifty between his fingers. You were broke, but was it worth it? He saw your hesitation and his smug grin grew. “Aw, you need it that bad, huh?” He patted his thigh twice. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Anyone in their right mind would’ve said no, and walked away with their dignity intact, but he was right— you needed it bad. 

So you approached and tried to pluck the money from his hand, but he pulled it away, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “Nuh-uh, Sweetheart. Gotta earn it first.”

You huffed in disbelief, taking a step back. But meeting his gaze told you how serious he was. You swallowed your pride and straddled his lap, grinding to the beat. 

It felt degrading, dancing on him while his friends all leered. Your tits pressed against Gator’s shirt, his hands firm on your hips, even though he knew he wasn’t allowed to touch. If you called him out on it, he’d probably just say it was nothing he hadn’t done before.

It could’ve been one song, or maybe more. Probably more. When he finally removed his hands, he nodded for you to get off. You swallowed uncomfortably and took a few awkward steps back. 

“The money,” you said weakly.

His face scrunched slightly, like he was considering it. “Eh… I don’t think you earned it, Sweetheart. I mean, I’m not even hard.” 

He got a real kick out of that, and out of the kicked puppy look in your eyes. You swallowed it down like a bitter pill and met his gaze. “It’s not my fault that all the blow you do is killing your dick. Keep your fuckin’ money, Gator. I don’t want it.”

Which was a lie. You wanted it more than anything… but you knew you’d pissed him off. You could see the vein popping at his temple, the way his hand clenched around his beer bottle. Better to pretend you were better off without it and walk off with some dignity left.

It took about three steps to realize that there was a little less pressure on your hip than there used to be. Your hand felt along the band of the bikini and came up blank. He’d taken your fucking money. 

You heard him giggling behind you once he knew you realized, but what was the point? Who would you call to get it back? The police?

By the end of the night, you counted your meager earnings and tucked it away in your bag. Without your dancewear and the makeup and the heels, you could pass for the average citizen of Stark County. 

You bundled up in a parka before you walked to your car, a shitty, beat-up car nearly older than you were. One of the side mirrors was ripped off, and the bumper was caved in, but she ran. 

Tucked into the windshield was a tiny note, in a messy, nearly illegible scrawl— Impress me next time. You crumpled it and tossed it onto the asphalt.

  You saw him again on Monday. The club was closed on Sunday, due to an ordinance that Roy Tillman had put in place about businesses of ill repute operating on the holy day. You wondered what he thought about his son bankrolling the lives of half of the strippers who worked at the club.

He was alone, though, which scared and comforted you in equal measure. You watched him from afar, sitting at the bar, drinking a White Claw and puffing on that stupid fucking vape. 

There was a girl in his lap, one of the newer dancers who didn’t know better. Whatever. She’d figure him out soon enough. 

Mondays were slow. You did a few dances onstage, made the rounds, flirted with some of the regulars. Gator was blissfully elsewhere, which you loved. 

The night had been pretty tame until just before last call, when an overserved realtor got loud and handsy. 

“C’mon, why don't you take me back to one of those rooms without the cameras?” One asked as you gave him a half-hearted lap dance. His breath was like a punch bowl at a senior prom, and his fingers dug into the plush of your ass. 

You winced as he pulled you harder against him, and you felt the uncomfortable prod of his dick against you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He was grinding up against you, sweaty at his temples and forehead. He was deceptively strong, holding you down against him so he could rut against you and get off. “Ya know, the private rooms for the big tippers. Better than all this over the clothes stuff.”

“You need to stop,” you said, as firmly as you could, shoving at his chest to really get your point across. He didn’t let up, and gave you a smarmy grin as he began roughly moving your hips of his own accord. “Hey, stop it, asshole.”

“Hey, you’re the one offerin’ me a dance,” he said. “I sold a nice big house today, got a real good commission. I could tip ya real good if you’re nice.”

“Let me go!” You shoved at his chest, slapping at him, but he just grinned. You were just wondering if biting his ear off would do the trick when you felt yourself pulled off him and tossed aside on the floor like a rag doll. 

Then there was the soft sound of blows landing against a stomach. Then the crunch of a broken nose. The wheezy rattle of the realtor’s breath once he started spitting up blood and teeth. Each punch made you flinch until finally, it relented. 

“Should’ve let her go, asshole.” Gator’s knuckles were bloodied, and you realized he was holding out a hand to help you up. You took it, nervously, and readjusted your costume where the realtor had tugged at them. “You hurt?”

You shook your head. “I’m fine but is— I mean, is he gonna be okay?”

Gator’s brows furrowed as he spared a glance toward the bloodied pile of meat on the floor. He spat in his direction and shrugged. “Who fuckin’ cares? Goddamn lowlife.”

You wondered if he could sense the irony. His face lit up in recognition, then he knelt beside the realtor, patting him down, searching for something. He stood and held up a fancy, monogrammed leather wallet. 

He sifted through, retrieving bill after bill. “Here. Y’earned it.” It was more cash than you brought home in a week. More cash than anyone should carry on themselves at once. 

“I’m not taking that,” you said weakly. “I can’t.”

He rolled his eyes, tucking the money in your bra. “Such a fuckin’ bitch, you know that? Can’t even say thank you or nothin’.”

He left you standing there over the broken body of the asshole realtor, who may or may not have been dying. Either way, you figured the Tillman’s would handle it. For better or worse.

  “I didn’t fuckin’ do anything,” you argued, which was a lie. And it’s not like anyone would listen even if it wasn’t. Police are on their way, they said. They’ll deal with thieving filth like you.

Well… they didn’t have to get quite so personal. You sat outside the Manager’s office at the stupid fucking sex shop, picking at your cuticles until you heard the police cruiser roll up outside. You heard the door slam, and muffled chatter until you saw him walk in.

“Well… look who got herself into some trouble. And here of all places too.”

Fuck. Gator Fucking Tillman. 

You glanced up at him for a moment before returning to your nails. The shop owner was talking the deputy’s fucking ear off until you heard the question you dreaded. 

“What is it she was tryin’ to steal? I mean… there’s a lot to choose from, I’ll tell ya that.”

You watched with a thin sense of dread as the shop owner laid out your would-be haul of lingerie that had been stuffed into your purse. Gator grinned as he glanced over at you, then back at the lingerie. 

“Can I have the office? I need some privacy to interrogate the perp.” The manager complied, bending to the will of the law or whatever. Gator grabbed you by the arm and tugged you inside, closing the door firmly behind him. 

You watched as he strode towards the nice armchair behind the desk, then sat down, legs spread wide. He unzipped the stupid police vest and shrugged it off, so it landed in a pile on the floor. For a moment, it was quiet as you stared at him dumbly, then he snapped his fingers. 

“What? You want me to tell you why did it? Three fucking guesses.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “No, I want you to try it on.” 

You swallowed, and when you spoke your tongue felt dumb and heavy. “What?”

“You heard me. Try it all on, and tell me if it was worth the trouble.” He looked at you expectantly, and when you didn’t move, he sighed. “It’s this, or I take you to the station, get you booked, and all that. I doubt anyone’s gonna pay your bail, so that’s a few days before arraignment. Then it’s a court case for larceny, and let’s be honest, you’re guilty.”

You stared at him, speechless. He stood up suddenly, grabbing his things before you interrupted— “Wait! Wait. Just… sit back down.”

He grinned. “There’s a good girl. Make it good for me, yeah? You know how.”

You huffed, heart pounding as you grabbed the first set and turned around to change. You had just pulled off your shirt when he cleared his throat behind you. Your hands shook as you turned around, barely covering your tits. 

“C’mon, I said to make it good, Sweetheart,” he said with a thinly veiled sense of amusement. “Nothin’ I haven’t seen before.”

The fucking asshole. But you took a breath and steadied yourself. “Okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than anything. 

His gaze was intense, tracing each curve and dip of your body as you moved. You slipped the bra on, clipping it shut with shaking hands.

“Alright, now you can turn around,” he said, nodding towards the panties in your hand. “And do it nice and slow for me.”

Your face burned with embarrassment as you turned around, working the buttons of your skirt so you could slip it down your legs. It fell into a pile around your ankles and fanned out like a flower. You hooked your thumbs into the panties you were wearing, pink with little flowers spotting the fabric. As slowly as you could manage while terrified and pissed, you slipped them down your legs. 

When you spared a glance at Gator, he was smirking right back at you. “Give those here,” he said, holding his hand out expectantly. 

“What?”

“Geez, you’re fuckin’ dumb. Lemme see ‘em.” He more or less snatched the panties from your grip, smiling like the cat who got the cream as he held them up. “Might have to keep ‘em. Evidence.”

You swallowed down your annoyance and pulled the lacy panties up your legs. When you were finished, you turned, arms crossed over your chest protectively. Shockingly, he was quiet as he looked at you, eyes raking over your tits, and every bare piece of skin he could see. It felt like you stood there under his gaze for hours before he finally spoke up. 

“It’s not doin’ much for ya, sweetheart. I mean, you don’t look very fuckable.”

It landed like a blow to your gut. He was an asshole, so it should’ve meant nothing… but he knew exactly where your soft spots were, and just how hard to dig his fingers in. “Fuck you, Gator.”

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” he cooed, patronizing and smug. “So fuckin’ sensitive, huh? Can’t take a joke. C’mere, lemme see you.” He grabbed your wrist in the tightly packed office and tugged you forward, so you practically stumbled on top of him.

You flinched as his hand moved up the back of your thigh, warm and calloused. When he gave your ass a rough squeeze, you closed your eyes and shivered. 

“Ya know, I saw your husband the other day.” His finger traced along the name on your hip— Jack. Every loop and whorl of the cursive claimed by his touch. “Looked real happy with that girl of his. Sarah, right? The waitress he was fuckin’ behind your back?”

You swallowed hard and said nothing, but he was more than happy to keep running his mouth. “Well, she’s not special. I’ve fucked Sarah too, and she just laid there like a dead fish the whole time.”

“Maybe you just weren’t that good.” You smirked as you replied, unable to resist being a bit of an asshole right back. 

“You gettin’ smart right now?” He gave your ass a quick slap, making you squeak. “I was trying to give you a compliment, but you don’t fuckin’ deserve it. You’re so fuckin’ used up that you don’t even know what good is.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure you think that. It’s easy to blame it on the girl when you can’t make ‘em cum, right?”

His jaw clenched, anger painting his features. “Wouldn’t you fuckin’ like to know, huh?” He caught sight of the smirk on your face and shoved you back. “Put on the next one.”

Fucking dickhead. You rolled your eyes and quickly stripped off the lingerie, throwing it in his general direction once it was off. You weren’t as graceful in dressing in the next set. Why give him a show and let him win? Once it was on, you crossed your arms and looked at him expectantly. 

“Well?”

He cocked his head to the side, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, I like it better than the first, but I don’t think your heart’s quite in it. Gimme a twirl.”

You gave a slow turn, then met his gaze again, raising a brow. He ran a hand over his mouth, looking you up and down. You caught the slightest movement as he spread his legs a little wider. It only served to highlight the bulge in the front of his stupid fucking cargos.

“You’re really enjoyin’ yourself, huh?” You snapped, eyes narrowed. He laughed, following your gaze to his lap. 

“Well,” he began, lazily moving a hand to cup his growing hard-on. “I could always find a way to enjoy myself more. Bet you’d like that, huh?”

You ignored him and began trying on the last set you’d attempted to steal. A bright red set, skimpier than the others, which you were sure he fucking loved. Before he could ask, you gave a slow twirl. 

“Atta girl,” he cooed. He was blatantly stroking himself over the fabric, eyes half-lidded. You swallowed hard, watching the sight before you. It was like something out of a bad porno. Or a really good one. Jury was out. He patted his thigh, nodding you over. “C’mere, I won’t bite.”

A moment of hesitation passed through you, wondering if this was really what you wanted. It was like you could hear his voice in your head, asking if you could do any better. You sighed and slowly settled onto his lap. He looked at you with a funny sort of expression— not so much that he was smug, just… a bit pleased. 

“You gonna give me a dance?” His hand rested on your thigh, fingers tapping erratically. You shook your head and he rolled his eyes. “Is this ‘cause I didn’t pay the other night?” You scowled. “I mean, I think you owe me now. I paid ya back a hundred times over thanks to Mr. Realtor from the other day.”

   You stayed silent and still, looking anywhere but his face. He took your chin between his fingers and turned you to face him, so close you could taste the fruit flavor from that goddamn vape on his breath. 

“Remember how turned on you got just from havin’ my cock in that pretty mouth of yours?” He said, voice barely above a whisper. He ran a thumb along your bottom lip, tugging at it slightly. “I still remember the way you had to slip a hand between your legs to play with yourself.”

You made a weak sound in the back of your throat as you remembered it— that desperate, all-consuming need. Maybe it’s because he was an asshole, or maybe it was all of the authority. Maybe that’s why you shoplifted anyway. Because you knew he’d be the one to show up. 

“You ever been with someone as big as me before?”

You shivered. “No.”

A wide smile spread across his lips. “Since?” You just shook your head. “Betcha been dreamin’ about it too. Stuffin’ that greedy little pussy full of your fingers whenever you think about me.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t quite deny it. It wasn’t a frequent fantasy, but it was there. “You’re a real narcissist. You know that?”

He grinned. “That’s not a no, is it?” He leaned in closer, nuzzling against your throat, his breath hot. “Bet if I slipped my hand inside those panties, they’d be fuckin’ soaked.”

And despite your better judgment, you fucking whimpered. All but confirming it. 

“Yeah, I thought so,” he cooed. His hand found purchase on the small of your back, and when he applied the smallest bit of pressure, you found yourself giving in. Slowly, your hips ground against his, making a soft sigh escape your lips each time your cunt met his clothed dick. 

“Want me to find some music?” He asked with a boyish grin. “I bet I have Pony somewhere on my phone.”

You shook your head before he could even try to grab it. “I’ll kill you if you even try.” He laughed, just a bit. It was rare to hear him laugh and have it not be at your, or anyone else’s expense. 

You grabbed his hands, moving them to your waist, just at your ribcage. The tips of his fingers brushed against your tits, and he smiled.

“Takin’ charge now, are ya? You could’ve just put ‘em right here.” He moved his hands up, cupping your breasts in his large hands. You moaned softly as he gave a slight squeeze, arching into his touch. “ See? That’s much better, huh? Just take what you need, baby. I’ll give it right to ya.”

Take what you need? You could do that. You moved your hands along his chest, fighting the urge to just tear off his shirt and reveal the white tank top you knew he always wore beneath. Instead, you slipped your hands to his goddamn cargos and made quick work of the button and zipper. 

He sat back and watched as you spit into your palm, his eyes hazy with arousal. You slipped your hand inside his pants and slipped beneath the band of his plaid boxers. A low groan escaped his lips when you wrapped your hand around him and squeezed.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Just like that.” His head fell back, leaving the plane of his neck for the taking. Your lips pressed against the skin there, leaving a mixture of soft kisses and bites as you worked him in your hand. 

Gator’s stamina was absolute dogshit. You could tell when he was close from the way he’d pulse in your hand and whimper like a fuckin’ girl. You’d just have to squeeze him at his base to stave it off, give him a few seconds to cool off before you kept going. 

“You want me?” You asked, lips brushing against the shell of his ear. 

“So fuckin’ bad.” He was bucking up into your fist, chasing the sweet pleasure of your soft hand around him. 

A smile spread across your lips. “Then earn it.” You pulled back, meeting his gaze as you removed your hand from him. 

He sat there, panting and staring dumbly as you sat atop the desk and spread your legs invitingly. “C’mon, Gator. You’re a smart boy, you’ll figure it out.”

He huffed with annoyance as he stood, towering over you as he pulled off his shirt to reveal that fucking tank top. He leaned down just slightly, so his arms were caging you in. “I’ll fuckin’ earn it, alright. I’m gonna own this pussy by the time I’m through.”

He knelt between your legs, kissing his way up your thighs. You cried out as his teeth dug into the plush skin, leaving an indentation that would probably turn purple the next day. 

“You’re such a fuckin’ asshole.” He just grinned, clearly pleased with himself. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties and tugged them down. 

He was quick to drag his fingers through your slit, coating them in your arousal. The wet sounds of him playing with you, spreading you open for him, made your cheeks burn with embarrassment. 

“I’m an asshole, but you clearly fuckin’ like it, huh?” He said, holding up his fingers, glistening with your juices, as proof. His smirk made annoyance and arousal bubble up within you, tangling in an utterly infuriating way. “Relax for me, yeah? Gonna stretch you out, make you feel real good.”

You moaned softly as his fingers pressed against your entrance, teasing you with the idea of being full. A gentleman would start off slow, work you up to two fingers gradually. Gator Tillman wasn’t a fucking gentleman, but you didn’t care. 

“Shhh… open up for me,” He said, speaking not to you, but to your cunt. “That’s it, atta girl.” A low whimper escaped you as his fingers pressed inside, thick and stretching you just right. Your walls fluttered around the intrusion, needing him deeper, more, more.

“Jesus Christ, Gator,” His fingers flexed at just the right spot, making you cry out desperately. He grinned, then pressed a kiss to your thigh as he began fucking you with his fingers, acutely aware that the slightest twitch of his fingers could make you fucking sing for him. 

It’s a funny thing he does with his fingers— not quite jackhammering them in and out like most of the other guys you’d been with but not exactly too far away. And you were fucking whining for it, your hips canting against his fingers until he finally had to throw his arm across your pelvis to just, in his words, keep you fuckin’ still.

It felt good, but you were also very aware that he was purposefully, or, worse, unknowingly avoiding your clit. The more you considered it, the more convinced you were that it was the latter. He was homeschooled, apparently, by his religious nut father, which meant his sex ed was probably just porn, and not even the decent kind. 

You squirmed slightly. “Gator—”

“’M busy.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed. I mean, sure, he was good with his hands, but you would also appreciate that skill applied elsewhere. Whatever, you weren’t helpless. 

His eyes narrowed as you moved a hand between your legs, circling your clit in time with his fingers. Your head fell back as a string of moans escaped your lips. That’s what you needed. 

“God, you’re desperate,” he muttered, but he didn’t bother to redirect your hands. “I coulda done that.”

You would’ve laughed if you weren’t already so close, the pressure and attention to your clit exactly what you needed to fall over the edge. 

“I feel you squeezin’ my fingers,” he said, voice low and dripping with satisfaction. “Wanna cum that bad, huh? Can’t even take what I give ya? Are you that fuckin’ needy?” When you didn’t think to answer, he leaned over and bit your thigh again. Harder.

“Fuck!” You shouted, annoyed that you’d have a second set of bruises to cover. But your annoyance melted right back into the siren call of pleasure. 

Moans tumbled from your lips before you could bring yourself to answer. “Yes, I’m that needy,” You gasped as his fingers moved deeper, harder with every thrust in. Your fingers moved faster on your clit, making your legs twitch on either side of Gator’s shoulders.

He let you teeter there on the precipice for a little longer, until you were sure you were going to tumble straight into sweet ecstasy. So close you could taste it, sweet and heady on the back of your tongue. 

And like that, Gator pulled away, slipping his fingers from your cunt and leaving you wanting. You sat there, panting and frustrated as he wiped his fingers off on your thigh. “Too fuckin’ bad. Bend over.”

He slapped the side of your thigh as he stood and looked down at you expectantly. Your legs wobbled as you stood in what little room he provided you, tits brushing against his chest for just a moment as you turned and bent over the desk. 

“Isn’t this a pretty sight?” He grabbed your ass, kneading the plush skin roughly before landing a rough smack. You winced at the sting as you spared a glance over your shoulder. He landed another slap on the opposite cheek, then spread you apart with his thumbs. “You’re fuckin’ killin’ me, you know that?”

He was quick to free his cock from the confines of his cargos and boxers. Over your shoulder, you could see the heap of clothes he’d made on the floor. In the back of your mind, you noted the very careless way he treated the gun in his thigh holster, but said nothing. It was hard to focus on improper gun handling when he had his length in his hand, stroking it slowly as he took in the sight of you. 

“You’re gonna pull out, right?” You asked, chewing your lip as you looked at him.

He rolled his eyes, the tip of his cock notched right at your entrance, making you arch against him. “You’re such a fuckin’ bitch. I’m not stupid, I’ll pull out.”

The prettiest groan escaped him as he rocked against your cunt, coating himself in your dripping arousal before the head of his cock nudged at your entrance. 

“You want me?” He asked, his breath coming in pants. Your body felt like a fucking live wire, hyperaware of the feeling of him, just barely outside of where you craved him.

You nodded. “Uh-huh. I want you. So bad, Gator.”

He sank into you, nice and slow, so he could relish in the warm, soft feeling of your walls around him. A sappier man would’ve said it felt like heaven. Gator wasn’t sappy. 

“Goddamn, you’ve got the tightest fuckin’ pussy,” He managed once he’d bottomed out, every inch of him fully sheathed inside. “Forget what I said about you bein’ used up.”

What a gentleman. You whined softly, pushing back against him to silently beg for more. He put a hand on the small of your back and pushed down so your back arched even more. Then he fucked you in earnest. 

The noises you made should’ve been illegal— some form of indecency or something. Loud and whiny, desperate for more. Your nails scratched at the laminate of the desk, seeking something, anything to hold onto for purchase as he fucked you within an inch of your life. 

He was so big you could’ve sworn you felt him deep in your stomach, even though you knew physically that was impossible. Each thrust punched out a keening moan from your lips, a swear, a breathy whine, or just his stupid fucking name over and over again. 

He reached a hand beneath you, so his rough fingers could play with your clit. “This is what you wanted so bad, yeah?” He asked, voice breathy as he quickly rubbed your clit. “Say thank you.”

“Thank you, Gator.” You were practically babbling. Thank you thank you thank you. 

Over your shoulder, you watched him using your body, chasing his high. Every slap of your ass was for his own gratification, just to see it jiggle. He was only rubbing your clit so he could feel you squeeze him even tighter. 

You didn’t care. You fucking loved it. Even as he manhandled you, lifting your thigh and placing it on the desk so he could fuck you deeper, you just laid there and took it like a fucking champ. 

“Woulda fucked you sooner if I knew it’d be this good.” His voice wavered slightly with the effort it took to maintain the relentless pace he had set. He slapped your ass hard, making you yelp and clench around him. 

What you’d said earlier was right— you were needy. You rocked back against him, meeting him with each thrust. The sounds of his hips hitting your ass with each thrust were nearly as pornographic as both of your moans. 

Gator didn’t shut up most of the time, but when he was buried inside of you he could mostly only manage pretty moans. 

“F-fuck, sweetheart. You’re… you’re really workin’ for it, huh?” His words were interrupted by low moans and grunts. “C’mon. Give it to me.”

He let you do most of the work, rocking back against him, making you fuck yourself on his cock. And he looked fucking smug about it too. 

The switch snapped suddenly when he grabbed your hips and fucked you without abandon, skin slapping against skin as he roughly bullied himself inside of you again and again. 

“That’s it. Just lay there and take it, sweetheart.” His voice was breathy and strained. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Fuck! That’s it. Just like that.”

He came suddenly, thrusting deep and hard as he spilled within you. It annoyed you that he looked pretty when he came— his mouth ajar, eyes fluttered shut, his body trembling just slightly. 

And then you were annoyed because he fucking lied. He pulled out after he had ridden the aftershocks with a few shallow thrusts and quickly redressed. 

“You didn’t pull out,” you said, your voice was strained with annoyance and anger as you looked back at him. He was getting dressed, making sure he looked alright. He didn’t even care to get you off. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He shrugged, trying to appear unbothered by it all. But you saw the annoyed tick in his jaw, the anger beneath it. Like a rattlesnake all coiled up, ready to strike if you made the wrong move. You were never on equal terms. You were no better than prey. And you should have known better, right?

Annoying, hot tears welled on your lashline, and you prayed to any higher power that he wouldn’t notice as you wiped at your eyes. You stood, doing your best to redress in silence, doing your best to remain small. He slapped a fifty on the desk and you flinched. “Buy some Plan B if you’re that fuckin’ worried about it. Jesus Christ.” He paused as he reached the door. “I’ll tell the manager we got it all sorted out. Isn’t that good enough for ya?”

You stood there, unsatisfied and used, with his cum leaking out of you, and stayed silent. It wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t anything at all. 

You walked out with fifty dollars, streaked mascara, three sets of lingerie you’d throw in the trash, and a newfound desire to get the fuck out of Stark County. And, maybe, some misplaced hope that next time might be different.

#it's here it's finally here #gator tillman #gator tillman x reader #gator tillman smut #anyways if you read this pls like and leave a comment idgaf if you reblog truly just wanna know if u enjoyed <3

[sydsaint]

If you don't think he's the hottest member of The Bloodline you are simply wrong I fear.

Summary: The reader is an old NXT friend of Solo's that makes her debut on Smackdown to challenge Iyo for her championship.

"You wanna tell me why the hell you dragged me down here when we could be chilling in the locker room right now?" Jimmy complains from Solo's side as they make their way through the backstage area. 

"I told you earlier," Solo replies vaguely. "There's something that I want to see." 

Jimmy scoffs but continues to follow his baby brother. The pair finally come to a stop backstage over by the production crew. Jimmy idles by and watches Solo intently turn his attention to the monitor set up against the wall displaying the action in the ring. 

Iyo is currently out in the ring with the rest of damage control and talking about who her next opponent is going to be. "What are we waiting for here, Solo?" Jimmy starts to get annoyed by the lack of information Solo is providing him. 

Suddenly, entrance music that Jimmy doesn't recognize blasts through the arena speakers. Solo cracks a rare smile and points to the monitor while the crowd out in the arena all go wild. "That's what we're waiting for." He points to the monitor. 

"What? Who?" Jimmy steps forward to get a better look at whoever Solo seems to be excited to see. "Y/N L/N? Who's that?" He turns back to Solo with even more questions than before. "And why do you care so much?" 

"Y/N and I are old friends from my NXT run," Solo explains. his gaze still transfixed on the monitor. "I haven't talked to her since I left NXT. But when I heard rumors backstage that some A-list talent from NXT was getting called up to Smackdown to challenge Iyo, I knew it was going to be her." 

Jimmy turns his gaze back on the monitor as you march your way to the ring with no fear. Damage Control all encircles you to protect Iyo, but you pay them little to no mind. Iyo is the one you're here for. And no one is going to squander this opportunity for you. 

"Long time no see, Iyo." You flash a smug smile at the current Smackdown Women's champ. "I'm going to guess that you're smart enough to know why I'm here?" You add. "So why don't we skip the niceties and get right to it?" 

"You're a little outnumbered here, don't you think?" Bayley scoffs from Iyo's side. 

You turn your attention to Bayley for a second. "No one asked, Bayley." You inform her nonchalantly. "I'm here for Iyo, that's it. So everyone else? Well, you're all just in my way." 

Bayley scoffs and nudges Asuka and Kairi at her side. Dakota laughs with them but she's still not cleared for action, so you know that you don't have to worry about her. 

"That's some ego you got there, newbie." Bayley's attention snaps back to you after whispering with Asuka and Kairi for a moment. 

"It's not ego if you're just that good, Bayley." You reply. "And trust me on this. I am that good." You assure her. 

Backstage, Jimmy watches with intrigue as you work your mic skills against Damage Control. "Well, she's certainly got balls, that's for sure." He turns to Solo. 

"You ain't seen nothing yet." Solo cracks a knowing grin and nods to the monitor. 

After a bit more verbal sparring Bayley is the first one to attempt an attack on you, she goes for a clothesline which you dodge swiftly. Asuka and Kairi plan a combo attack but you send both of them out of the ring as well. Dakota retreats since she can't fight, and all that's left is the woman that you're after. Iyo Sky. 

"Look's like you're out of goons, Iyo." You laugh and gesture to the rest of Damage Control all laid out on the floor. 

Not about to back down from the challenge, Iyo makes her attack and the two of you trade a few blows. You get the upper hand and send Iyo out of the ring to join the rest of her crew. Iyo's championship belt remains on the mat in front of you so you pick it up and raise up to a roaring crowd. 

"You and me, Iyo! Royal Rumble!" You issue the challenge with the belt held high in your hands. "It's time the 'Genius of the Sky' got grounded." 

You leave the belt in the middle of the ring and hop down off the apron. Iyo glares at you from the safety of her peers and retrieves her belt while you make your way up the ramp. 

Backstage, Jimmy shakes his head in awe of your performance. "Damn. I can see why the two of you were friends." He chuckles. 

A few minutes later you enter the room and spot Solo hanging around with his brother. Having not seen your former NXT buddy in almost a year, you head over to him. 

"Well, I'll be damned." You march over to Solo with a smile. "If it ain't the hardest working man in The Bloodline." You tease. "Solo! It's been too long, man." 

"Y/N, it's good to see you." Solo nods and opts for a side hug. "I see that you haven't lost your touch." He alludes to your performance out in the ring with Iyo and Damage Control. 

You giggle and nod. "You know me, Solo. I take what I want. No matter who's in my way, or what I have to do to get it." You remind him. 

"Solo was saying that the two of you used to run back in NXT?" Jimmy speaks up from Solo's side. 

"Yep." You turn to Jimmy. "Solo's the only one that I could ever get to train with me on the regular. Everyone else was too afraid." You laugh. 

Jimmy nods, starting to see why you and Solo were such good friends. You turn back to Solo with another smile and get back to catching up with your old friend. "Anyhow. Nick Aldis signed me to the brand so get ready to see a lot more of me, Solo." You inform him. "Especially with a title belt around my waist. Because I am so kicking Iyo's ass at the Rumble." 

"Oh for sure." Solo agrees. "You busy after the show? I'd love to catch up some more." He asks you. 

"Yeah, I'm free." You nod. "Just shoot me a text after the show. Now, I've got a meeting with Aldis that I probably shouldn't be late for. But we'll talk later, Solo." You dismiss yourself. 

Solo nods and waves you off. He waits until you are out of sight before he turns back to his waiting brother. 

"So you two definitely did it right?" Jimmy asks. 

"What? No!" Solo scoffs. 

"Liar," Jimmy replies with a smug laugh. "You most definitely hit that, bro." He insists. 

#wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #wrestling #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fanfic #wwe #wwe fandom #wwe fic #solo sikoa #solo sikoa x reader #the bloodline #the bloodline fanfiction #syd's wrestling fics

[joshlmbrt]

Another Gator request because I simply can't get enough 😌

Some guy won't take no for an answer but instead of Gator pulling the "I'm a sheriff's deputy" card and running him off, he just decides to pretend like he's your boyfriend until the guy finally takes the hint.

Could possibly be seen as a part 2 to I Owe You, but it could work great on it's own with however you'd like it to go.💖

Saved Twice. ( g. tillman x reader )

【𝜗𝜚 warnings; again, gator if you don’t like him!!!, some gross dude flirting with you and touching you, gator pulling the ‘i’m a cop’ card, short! can be read as a standalone - but is kind of like a part two. link here if you’d like to read it as a two part!

【𝜗𝜚 an; thank you for the request!!! im sorry it took so long!!! but i hope you enjoy

FARGO, NORTH DAKOTA.

“Come on! Just one round of pool, then I’ll leave ya alone, sweet thing.”

Your nose scrunches as you shake your head. “I’m sorry, darlin’, but I can’t,” You motion towards the waiting customers. “I got a lot of people to take care of! I’m sure you’ll find a nice lady!”

Darren, the man that had not stopped bugging you ever since he stepped into the bar, was a guy who always came into the bar already plastered.

Usually you could keep a distance, but for some reason, you couldn’t tonight.

“Aw, doll face, come on,” He slurs. He then leans closer, a smell of whiskey coming off in waves making you almost gag. “I’ll give you a big tip.” He grins.

You open your mouth to speak but someone is already doing that for you.

“I think the lady said no,” A bar stool is being pulled out next to the drunk and Gator sits down. “Is there a reason why you’re not takin’ that answer?” He lifts a brow.

“Move along, boy. I’m not talkin’ to you,” He grumbles, turning himself back to you, a hand touching your arm. You yank your arm away. “Uptight, hm?”

Your face scrunches in disgust again.

“I wouldn’t keep talkin’ if I were you.” Gator shakes his head.

The man grumbles to himself before humoring Gator. “Why is that?”

Gator smirks, eyes trailing down the man before back up. “I’m the law,” The man’s eyes widen a fraction. “I can take you in right now. . .” Gator looks at you. “Public indecency? What do you say, honey?”

Darren turns to you, color draining from his face. You consider it, a lie to get him locked up at least for a bit, but ultimately decide against it.

“Maybe next time. . . If there is a next time.” Gator nods, turning to stare at Darren.

“Well?” He snaps.

The man flinches and looks over at him. “Wh-what?” He gulps.

“Will there be a next time?”

“No. . . No, I can’t- I can’t get arrested. My wife will kill me!” He stands, although stumbling on his feet.

Gator rolls his eyes, turning towards you. “You okay, honey?”

You lean on the bar, humming. “Better now that you’re here. That makes. . . what? Two times saving me?”

“Who’s countin’?” He shrugs, a small smirk on his lips. “What do I get for it?”

“A kiss?”

“That would work.” You grin and lean closer. “You got it, Tillman.”

【𝜗𝜚 thank you for reading! comments, likes, feedback, & reblogs are encouraged, welcomed, & deeply appreciated!

#gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x you #gator tillman angst #gator tillman fic #gator tillman #joe keery x reader

[justthatwwegirl]

(Idk, I'm always making imagines inspired by Laufey songs)

From The Start

(Grayson Waller x Female Reader)

Summary: Y/N finally tells Grayson about her feelings for him and it goes in a way she didn't expect.

(Warnings: Shitty summary and kinda rushed ending, two idiots in love, some cursing, Liv and Austin being icons.)

Y/N sat on one of the crates, opening her water bottle as she had just finished her match.

Her and Dakota faced against eachother, Y/N coming out on top.

Just right as she was still drinking her water, there came the face she had wanted to see, the person who made her smile and blush till she felt like a high school girl with a crush.

"Y/N/N! Congrats on your match." Grayson had said, walking up to her with some food from catering and a vending machine before giving her a hug that she returned back.

"Thank you." Y/N said quietly. She ate the food very eagerly due to her hunger. Not eating before the show or during.

Her and Grayson had been good friends since their NXT days, Y/N falling for the Australian ever since they met and falling even more in love every day after.

The two had grown very close and cared for each other dearly.

Grayson was more outgoing and very much an extrovert. Y/N liked to keep to herself, didn't like going out and was more of an introvert.

"Hey, do you wanna order takeout when we get back to the hotel?" Grayson asked in his Australian accent, making Y/N go weak.

"Um, sure why not." Y/N said, keeping a cool composure.

Grayson smiled at her, making Y/N smiled back automatically, blushing just a little (or a lot).

Grayson had sat next to her, leaning to rest his head on her shoulder.

Y/N smiled and then leaned her head on his.

Just very friendly things...

"I like your gear." Y/N said making Grayson look down at his gear with a smile.

"T-thank you!" Grayson said in a stuttering mess, making Y/N concerned.

"You okay, Gray?" Y/N asked, using his nickname.

Before Grayson could answer, a familiar voice interrupted.

"Y/N!" Liv had said giving Y/N a big hug that Y/N returned.

"I saw your match and you did absolutely amazing!" Liv said making Y/N jump off the crate and slightly nod.

Liv looked at Grayson and at Y/N before holding her hands up. "Looks like I interrupted some time between you and your boyfriend, sorry!" Liv apologized making Y/N rub her face and making Grayson start smiling.

"I'll see you later, Grayson." Y/N said, looking like a red tomato and waved bye.

Grayson frowned a little but ultimately said bye as well.

"Okay, I didn't even do anything wrong, I said the truth." Liv said and Y/N crossed her arms.

"We're not dating! And as much as I would like that, you know he doesn't feel the same way." Y/N said and Liv looked at her confused.

"Y/N, you can't be serious right now." Liv said and Y/N shrugged her shoulders.

"I am. He doesn't like me back and that's fine. I don't wanna ruin years worth of friendship just because I have a crush on him." Y/N said with a frown.

"Girl. You do realize he feels the same right?" Liv asked, making Y/N shake her head.

"I can give you multiple reasons on why I think so!" Liv said before going on a rant making Y/N listen.

Even though Y/N acted like she wasn't interested. Deep deep down, she hoped Liv's reason were true.

"I hope you know that you talk about this man NONSTOP. Pretty much half of our messages is you talking about how much you love him and want him. Well, I'm here to tell you why you should shoot your shot BECAUSE HE LIKES YOU BACK!" Liv said in a frustrated tone making Y/N jump just a little.

"1, when me and Naomi are on the topic of you guys," "Wait you guys talk about us?" "Not important, anyways." Liv continues. "We both notice how much he listens to you when you talk. Not like how a normal guy listens like this man is INVESTED and he always looks at you with those fucking heart eyes." Liv says making Y/N confused.

"Number 2, who got you matching bracelets for your birthday, AND took you to the mall to go on a shopping spree, not minding how much money you spent?" Liv asked making Y/N look down.

"Gray." Y/N whispered. Liv smiled a she proved even more of her point.

"And who gave you matching bracelets in NXT which you are still wearing today?" Liv asked another question making Y/N scoff.

"Gray." Y/N answered once again, showing her wrist that showed the bracelet.

"You can stop this rant-" "I am not done until you say you will tell him." Liv stated making Y/N groan.

"He gets you food almost every day, he literally carried you everywhere when you injured your leg even though you had crunches, even Triple H thought you guys were dating, and then, this man lets you hold his man just because you're nervous-" "Fine, fine! I'll tell him." Y/N said in defeat making Liv jump and down in excitement.

"Yes! Oh my gosh, FINALLY!" Liv says jumping and down, clapping her hands.

"Alright, Liv, chill." Y/N says while Liv takes some breathes before finally calming down.

"It's that obvious?" Y/N asks, looking at Liv.

"Yes. It is that obvious. He even talks to Austin so much about you to the point where Austin calls you Grayson's girlfriend." Liv says making Y/N blush a little and smile.

"And according to Austin, Grayson doesn't correct him." Y/N looks up at Liv.

"Gosh, if you keep telling me this, I'll die of being too flustered." Y/N said before covering her face as she was blushing and smiling too hard.

"When you're not around, the man complains to Austin 24/7 about how much he missed you."

"STOP-"

-

"You still have that?" Y/N pointed to the little wristband that she made for Grayson years ago.

"Yeah, I wear it everyday and pretty much everywhere." Grayson said, holding the door open for Y/N as they walked into the hotel.

"You didn't notice?" Grayson asked making Y/N shake her head.

"No, I thought you had lost it." Y/N said as they got to the counter, booking their room.

"Imagine if they give us the honeymoon room again." Grayson says, making Y/N let out a laugh.

"That was something." Y/N said, shaking her head in a smile as they went toward the elevator.

They entered the elevator, continuing their conversation.

She always made eye contact with him during conversations even though it made her super nervous. But she loved the way they looked and always smiled at least once during every conversation they had.

She always took his features into deep thought.

Just as they were talking, Y/N had remembered what she promised Liv and immediately groaned, rubbing her face.

"Y/N/N, you okay?" Grayson asked, putting his hand on her shoulder make her relax.

"Um yeah, but I kind of wanted to talk to you about something." Y/N said, facing her fears.

"What is it-" A loud sound had interrupted him, making Y/N and Grayson.

"What just happened?!" Y/N asked in a loud tone, looking around.

"Did the elevator get stuck?!" Grayson asked, also looking around.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now." Y/N said stressed, making her grab Grayson's hand.

Grayson held her hand, squeezing it and making them look at each other.

"It's going to be okay, they'll fix it." Grayson said, trying to calm her down even though he was terrible at it.

"You're right." Y/N said before taking some deep breathes but never letting go of his hand.

The two stood in silence. Still holding one another's hand.

Until Grayson broke the silence.

"What were you going to tell me?" He asked, squeezing her hand again as she looked at him.

"I'm going to try and tell you in the best way I can but you make me super nervous and I just-" Y/N paused.

"I just what?" Grayson asked quietly.

"I like you, more than a friend should." Y/N quickly blurted out.

"I've liked you from the start and the feeling has gotten stronger ever since and I understand if you don't feel the same or if you just wanna be friends I'm really sorry-" While Y/N rushed, before she could finish, she felt those soft lips she had always wanted to kiss against hers.

Y/N kissed him back immediately. Not wanting the moment to end ever.

Until Grayson had to pull away.

"Well, if that doesn't tell you that I feel the same way, I don't know what will." Grayson said in his accent that kept making her go weak.

"I'm still a little... shocked that you feel the same, didn't even realize." Y/N said.

"I thought I was being obvious, I kept dropping hints!" Grayson said making Y/N scrunch her eyebrows in confusion.

"I talk about you so much where Austin has to deal with it everyday. He calls you my girlfriend cause I always talk about you!" Grayson said.

'Well, Liv did tell me that.' Y/N thought.

"Everytime we were away, I always fell asleep on the phone with you and every time I see you, I feel like eyes turn into hearts." Grayson continues making Y/N blush.

"I tried giving you hints but I was too damn awkward." Y/N defended herself.

"You know how shy I am, Gray" Y/N says making Grayson smile and nod.

"I do, and every single time you opened up to me or revealed something about yourself, it gave me more reasons on why I love you." Y/N blushed even more at his statement before giving him a look.

"How long have you felt this way?" Y/N asked him.

"Since we met-" "I could have told you this whole time?!" Y/N shouted.

Grayson laughed and nodded before hugging Y/N.

She hugged back and looked up at him. He looked down at her with their eyes locking and leaned in.

He kissed her with such passion that it made her melt as she kissed him back.

She held onto him as the two continued to kiss but both of them didn't hear anything as they felt like they were in a different world when with one another.

And especially didn't hear the elevator door opening.

"OH MY GOSH!" Liv shouted, making Grayson and Y/N pull away, looking to see Liv and Austin standing next to each other.

"YOU OWE ME 50 BUCKS THEORY!" Liv shouted once again and Austin groaned.

"You guys couldn't have waited one more week?" Austin asked as he pulled a 50 dollar bill from his wallet, giving it to Liv as she danced in a celebration.

"I mean if it wasn't for Liv, I still would be dreaming my fantasies with him away." Y/N said making Grayson start blushing.

Grayson and Y/N stepped out of the elevator while Liv and Austin got in. Everyone said goodbye to eachother while the elevator closed and once again, Y/N and Grayson were alone again.

"Does this make us a couple?" Grayson asked and Y/N nodded her head.

"I hope so. I want to be your girlfriend." Y/N said with another smile as she kissed Grayson again.

"And I want to be your boyfriend." Grayson said, kissing her back while she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Then, we're together, Gray." She whispered and leaned in for another kiss which Grayson immediately obliged too.

The End ♡

#wwe #grayson waller imagine #grayson waller #grayson waller x reader #grayson waller oneshot #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #wwe oneshot #wwe x reader #wwe fluff #fluff #thismanhasbeenstuckinmyhead #Spotify

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Midnight | Chapter 16 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - you travel to South Dakota with Spencer for his next target which leads to a surprising confession of feelings. The BAU make strides in discovering your whereabouts.

Pairing - unsub! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - dark angst | smut | very eventual happy ending

Warnings - Spencer is trying, drinking, swearing, murder, drink driving, penetrative sex, unprotected sex.

WC - 4.9k

Chapter 16 - Dangerous

Hal’s Used Car Lot, located just outside of Roanoke and only three and a half miles from where the burnt out Volvo was found, was the fourth place of its kind Luke Alvez and Matt Simmons had visited that morning. 

It was late when Penelope had dropped the information on them so they’d spent last night compiling lists and calling hospitals which didn’t yield anything. First thing this morning Emily sent Luke and Matt down towards Roanoke to check out several car dealerships and rental places. 

JJ and Rossi’s trip out to the Franklin County crime lab hadn’t shed any more light on the situation. No usable evidence was found in the car, all they’d ascertained was that petrol had been used as an accelerant and the crime scene techs had concluded it was arson and not an accidental fire. 

Luke stretched his back and rolled his shoulders as he exited the car again, all this driving around aching his muscles. Matt didn’t seem phased as he started across the lot, Luke following behind. 

It wasn’t hard to work out who they needed to speak to, the owner Hal Mitchum plastered his face across all the billboards around the lot and it wasn’t like it was a particularly nice face. He was a huge man, at least six six and almost as wide, his broad shoulders barely contained in the suit jacket he wore. 

Luke and Matt exchanged a look as they headed to where he was schmoozing a customer on the far side of the lot, throwing out his charm in the hopes of a sale. He looked up at them as they approached, the way his brow furrowed told them he wasn’t pleased about being disturbed. 

“Hal Mitchum?” Matt spoke as they neared him.

“Give me a minute fellas, I’m already with a customer.” He smiled at them, a slightly smarmy smile.

“Not customers,” Luke retrieved his credentials. “SSA’s Luke Alvez and Matt Simmons with the FBI.” 

Hal straightened up and scrutinised them for a moment or two, clearly perturbed by their presence. He turned to the lady he’d been showcasing one of his cars to and smiled at her. 

“Why don’t you head inside and one of my guys can give you some more information on this little puppy. I’ll be right there.” He patted her shoulder and she nodded happily, albeit slightly confused, before heading towards the building. 

Hal stepped out from behind the car and folded his thick arms over his chest, eyebrow cocked at the two agents. 

“What can I help you with?”

“We’re investigating a possible missing person. We have reason to believe he may have purchased a used car from you in the last couple of weeks.” Matt began. 

“He would have paid cash, probably didn’t look around much, he would have been happy with something cheap and reliable. He didn’t have another vehicle to trade.” Luke continued. 

“Boys,” Hal clucked. “This here is one of the busiest used car dealerships in Franklin County. You gotta be more specific.” 

Luke and Matt exchanged a look and Luke pulled out his phone and brought up a photograph of Spencer, turning the display towards Hal.

“He look familiar to you?” Luke asked, holding his breath while Hal inspected the photo with a furrowed brow.

“You know what, I think he does.” He nodded slowly. “Come inside, I’ll see if I can find his paperwork.” 

Luke felt a small weight lift from his shoulders as he and Matt hurriedly followed Hal across the lot. He led them to his office and slid in behind the desk. Luke and Matt took a seat while he rifled through a filing cabinet. Several long minutes passed before he settled on a particular file which he pushed across the desk to the SSA’s.

“Here you go, Andrew Burnett. Brought a little blue Nissan.” 

Luke picked up the papers and Matt glanced at it over his shoulder. He looked at the copy of the driver’s licence with a concerned frown. The photograph was most definitely Spencer, however the name was wrong and the licence was issued in the state of Colorado. He looked up at Matt who was frowning too.

“Wasn’t there a couple who checked into Heartland with that name?” Matt lowered his voice but of course Hal could still hear.

“Yeah, Andrew and Rose Burnett.” Luke nodded.

“Oh she was a sweetheart.” Hal spoke up and they both turned to look at him.

“Excuse me?” Matt questioned.

“His wife, Rose. She was a nervous little thing but she had a kind smile.” Hal nodded wistfully.

Luke retrieved his phone again and pulled up your picture which he showed to Hal.

“Was this her?” 

“Yeah that’s her.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“I never forget a pretty face.” Hal gave them that smarmy smile. 

“Any idea where they were heading?” Matt asked him now.

“No idea, but he kept saying he needed a car that would do a lot of miles. The Nissan was old but it had been well maintained. It was cheap and reliable, just like he wanted.” Hal leant back in his chair.

“And Rose, did she have any say in it? What was her involvement?” Luke was more keen to get to the bottom of where you fit into all of this.

“She didn’t talk much. You know now I think about it, she seemed like she didn’t want to be here. Kept checking the time, hurrying her husband along. Is he abusive?” Hal raised an eyebrow at the agents and Matt and Luke briefly exchanged a look.

“Why would you say that?” Matt’s brows furrowed.

“I don’t know, she just seemed…scared I guess, followed him around like a stray dog being promised food. Seen it before in abusive relationships.” He shrugged. “You want me to make you a copy of those?” 

Ten minutes later Luke and Matt were hopping back into Luke’s SUV with copies of the paperwork and driver’s licence. Luke started the engine but didn’t drive away.

“None of this makes any sense.” Matt was still staring at the licence that bore Spencer’s image. “Fake names, Colorado licences, a burnt out car?”

“If he’d set the fire himself, theoretically, why would he do that?” Luke turned in his seat to look at Matt.

“Because he has something to hide.”

“So pair that with the fake names and licences and the call I got from Y/N from the middle of nowhere and the fact that she’s been calling me from a burner phone. If it weren’t Y/N and Spencer we were talking about, what would you think?” Luke ran his hand over the back of his neck as he spoke. 

Matt exhaled, chewing on his bottom lip and looking between the paperwork and Luke. 

“I would think they were on the run. I would think these are two people who have committed a crime and are trying to get the hell out of dodge.” Matt admitted with a shake of his head. “We’ve gotta be wrong.” 

“I want us to be wrong.” Luke agreed. “But my gut has been telling me since day one that something was off, that there must be something big at play here. I’m really scared that Y/N and Spencer have done something irreparably stupid.” 

“We should get back and tell the team what we found.” Matt exhaled again, pulling on his seatbelt. 

Luke did the same before putting the car in drive and peeling out of the lot. He did not have a good feeling about this, but unbeknownst to him, it would only get a whole lot worse. 

***

When you awoke the next morning, you were alone in bed and honestly you weren’t surprised. Spencer had been the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him last night and you knew from experience that he would most likely have put his walls back up even higher than before. You were prepared for the cold shoulder, maybe even a fight. You at least hoped you could get some coffee in your system first. 

Still dressed in yesterday's clothes which you’d slept in, you padded down the stairs towards the kitchen. As you reached the bottom of the steps the smells of strong coffee and sweet syrup and smokey bacon wafted your way through the partially open kitchen door. You rubbed your eyes as you continued forward and tentatively entered the kitchen. 

Spencer was standing on the other side of the island, unboxing an array of hot and fresh food on the counter. He glanced up at you and offered you no more than a meagre half-smile before continuing his task.

“McGill’s does take out.” He shrugged. “Figured it would be better than anything I could cook.” 

You moved closer, sliding into one of the bar stools and smiling to yourself as you picked up one of the take out coffee cups.

“I also had no idea what you’d want to eat so I pretty much got everything.” He focused on laying out the food and wouldn’t look at you again. 

“That was really kind of you.” You dared to speak, taking a sip of the glorious McGill’s coffee.

“S’ok. We don’t need to make a big deal out of it. I was hungry too.” He shrugged, sitting in the chair next to you and started piling food on his plate. 

You knew it was a peace offering of sorts. Spencer didn’t have the words to apologise for now he’d been treating you and of course he knew one breakfast wasn’t simply enough but he hoped it was a start. 

You ate in silence and Spencer wouldn’t look at you and when he was finished he was quickly slipping out of the chair again. He smoothed out his shirt and swallowed thickly when he finally looked across at you. 

“I’ve gotta go up to South Dakota. It’s a really long drive so I was gonna head out soon and I probably won’t be back until tomorrow.” He awkwardly scuffed the toe of his converse on the wooden floor. 

“Oh, sure.” You tried not to sound as downtrodden as you felt. 

“I mean, I guess you can come. If you want to. Don’t feel like you have to, if you have plans with whatshisname or whatever. It’s your call.” He looked the picture of nerves and you thought it was extremely cute. It was amazing how one small gesture always managed to erase all the bad he'd done. 

It probably made you an idiot but you would cling to these moments when you caught a glimpse of the old Spencer as much as you could. 

“I don’t think I’m gonna be seeing too much of whatshisname anymore, so I have a free day.” You shrugged, trying to hide the smile from your lips.

“Ok. Cool.” He nodded. “We need to leave in the next half hour so, uh, yeah.” 

“Ok.” Your lip involuntarily turned up at the corner as Spencer started backing away. 

“Ok. I’m just gonna…” he trailed off, pointing over his shoulder and then he walked into one of the stools. He scrambled to set it right before it fell over and you saw a light blush spread to his cheeks. He shook his head, casting his eyes at the floor, no longer able to look at you. “I, uh, got you some stuff, it's on the couch.”

“Some stuff?” You frowned, getting to your feet as he made it to the door.

“Again, don’t make a big deal out of it, I’m just sick of hearing about you being cold.” With that he slipped through the door and disappeared. 

You frowned to yourself as you headed to the living room, knowing you had not once mentioned to Spencer how cold you’d been. You always had a feeling he could read your mind though. On the couch was a large brown paper bag with the Milky Way logo on the side. Your excitement took over and you were quickly diving inside. 

You found two large wool knit sweaters, one in a pastel pink colour and another in violet, Spencer’s favourite colour. There was a pair of thick knitted gloves, a scarf that was about four foot long and beanie hat all with matching patterns of stars and moons stitched into them. But that wasn’t all.

At the bottom of the bag sat a small yellow jewellery box which you plucked out with a shaking hand. You ran your fingers over the lid a few times before daring to open it. Nestled inside on a little velvet cushion was a handmade necklace of a rose gold heart hanging on a thin chain. Picking it up from the box and turning it over in your hand, you soon found the etching on the back of the heart. 

It was a little crudely done, clearly not something Milky Way usually offered, but you imagined Spencer had been insistent on having them engrave it for him and had probably paid a lot for the privilege. It was just three simple words but words that had to mean so much to you.

Partners in Crime. 

Your heart swelled as you held the necklace in your hand, a token of Spencer’s feelings towards you. It meant more to you than he would ever know. You couldn’t wait to put it on and show him that you felt the same. You were a little lost in the gift, and didn’t notice you were being watched until Spencer cleared his throat, startling you out of a reverie.

“Can you stop fawning and get ready now please? We really need to go soon.” He spoke from the doorway.

“Spencer,” you looked up at him, eyes full of tears. “This is so-”

“Don’t,” he shook his head. “It was nothing. Please don’t make it into a thing.”

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes, putting the necklace back in its box. “Can I at least say thank you?” 

“You’re welcome.” He muttered under his breath, turning away from you. “Now seriously, hurry up or I will leave without you.” 

You watched him leave again in amusement. You felt like maybe you and Spencer had built a bridge, like this could be the start of a whole new chapter for the two of you. Hopefully he didn’t prove you wrong again. But maybe you shouldn’t hold your breath.

***

Rapid City, South Dakota was an exhausting ten hour drive from Crested Butte. But Spencer didn’t seem all that phased by it, in fact he’d seemed more rattled when you’d joined him at the car wearing the necklace he’d gifted you. 

Had he expected you not to wear it? Why would he buy it if he thought you wouldn’t? It had clearly flustered him though and he’d averted his eyes and quickly hopped in the car. 

Talk had been minimal on the drive. He’d told you about his target, serial murder Jason Durand and the crimes which cops couldn’t pin on him. He’d stopped for gas once and brought you back a burger from the grubby roadside van nearby which you ate as he continued the drive. 

You were about an hour outside of Rapid City when he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, landing on the necklace he’d bestowed upon you. 

“You didn’t have to wear it, you know.” He spoke quietly, like he didn’t want you to hear him. 

“Why wouldn’t I wear it? You brought it for me, presumably for the purpose of me wearing it.” You couldn’t contain your smirk. 

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “If you didn’t like it or thought it was corny or something.” 

“It’s not corny.” You smiled at his obvious nerves. “And I love it.” 

“Right, good. That’s good.” He nodded. “But if you don’t want to wear it…”

“If I don’t want to wear it, I won’t.” You finished his sentence for him. 

“Good.” He focused back on the road but it was only a few minutes before he spoke again. “What did you mean when you said you don’t think you’ll be seeing too much of mountain man anymore?” 

“We’re, uh, it wouldn’t have worked out.” You fiddled with your hands in your lap. 

“Did you sleep with him?” He asked, his jaw tightening. 

“Yes.” You shrugged. “But you slept with Mary.”

“I did.” He sucked in a deep breath. “But I don’t want to again.”

You narrowed your eyes on the side of his face, trying to work out the things he wasn’t saying but he always was so hard to read. 

“Spence, if you have something to say, just say it. I can’t read your mind.” 

He clutched the wheel more firmly, his back straightening in his chair as he tried to get his words in order in his head. 

“I don’t want her or anyone else. So maybe we can just agree that we won’t…sleep with other people anymore.” He was more nervous than you’d ever heard him but after everything he’d put you through you weren’t letting him off so lightly. 

“I’m not sure I understand.” You lied, a smirk tugging at your lips. 

“Goddammit,” he growled under his breath.

Suddenly he was pulling the car to the side of the interstate and slamming on the brakes, causing you to jerk forward in your chair. He turned to look at you, eyes wide.

“Spencer?” You chewed on your lip, your stomach churning. 

“I only want you, ok?” He spat out. “I don’t want us to keep playing these stupid games. If you’re going to wear my ring, my necklace, then you’re mine and no one else’s.” 

“Spencer…” you furrowed your brows and he sighed loudly and over dramatically. 

“I love you, is that what you want to hear?” He spoke so fast as though he didn’t want you to understand him. “I love you and I think you love me too and we should…be together.”

He looked so frightfully unsure of himself, so much the Spencer you’d known. It made your heart double in size and all the bad things he’d done just slipped away. 

“Ok.” You nodded. 

“Ok?” He frowned. 

“Ok. I don’t want anyone else but you either. I’m yours, Spence. Always have been.” You offered him a meek shrug. 

“Ok.” He nodded, turning back to the wheel. “Good. Ok.” 

He was soon pulling back onto the road and continued driving without saying another word. You smiled to yourself as you toyed with your necklace. 

Maybe you shouldn’t be in love with Spencer, shouldn’t have let him off so easily. Love does make people do crazy things, but following Spencer to the ends of the earth was probably one of the craziest. 

***

The twenty four hours that followed were an adrenaline and scotch fuelled blur. The death of Jason Durand had been fast and bloody, and when you’d sliced his throat and felt the hot, sticky substance spurt on your skin, you’d had the biggest grin on your face. Looking up at Spencer, he’d been smiling too.

“That was the hottest thing in the whole world.” He praised you and managed to refrain from jumping your bones in the puddle of Durand’s blood. 

You cleaned up, got his body in the trunk and left the house how you’d found it before jumping back in the Nissan in your blood soaked clothes. You found an almost full bottle of scotch on the backseat and turned the radio right up, tilting your chair back and sipping from the bottle as the euphoria consumed you. 

Spencer drove at a slightly manic pace, reaching over and taking the bottle from you before having a hefty sip. He drove for no more than twenty minutes along a deserted strip of road west of Rapid City before he was pulling the car to a stop on the grassy verge. When he turned to look at you, his eyes were frantic, a smile on his lips larger than you’d seen on him in a really long time. 

He swigged from the bottle again before using his free hand to undo his seatbelt, then yours and then grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you over the centre console and into his lap. His fingers toyed with the gold heart around your neck as you took the bottle from him and sipped it. His hand then trailed down over your stained shirt and you felt him quickly grow hard. 

“I can’t wait any longer. I need you.” He bucked against you. 

“Then have me.” You shrugged, taking another sip of the scotch. 

No sooner had you swallowed, Spencer was kissing you, gripping the back of your neck to keep you close. His other hand was already working on the buttons on your jeans and helped you out of them which was no easy feat in the small car. 

You continued to kiss him while helping him free his erection. His fingers edged your panties aside before running between your legs. He hissed when he felt how wet you were already. He moved his thumb to your clit and started rubbing but you were shaking your head, moving to grip the base of his cock and move it between your legs. 

“Can’t wait.” You panted against his lips. “Need to feel you.” 

Spencer didn’t complain as you started lowering yourself on his member, feeling himself disappear inside of you inch by inch. His head rolled back against the headrest and he moaned deeply once he bottomed out. 

You gripped his shoulders and used them as leverage to start moving up and down. The radio was still blaring, masking your moans and it was only seconds before the windows of the car steamed up with your heavy breaths. 

Spencer groped your breasts through your shirt soaked in blood as you rode him, keeping eye contact with him as you did so. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been this turned on in his life, he’d missed this, missed you. Mary didn’t hold a candle to you and the way you felt.

He knew as he felt you clenching around him that he never wanted to be with another woman as long as lived. Your rings might be fake, but the symbolism was real. He loved you as though you were his wife and he would until his dying day. You were his everything. Nothing could mess with the two of you, nothing could ever bring you down. 

Your grip on his shoulders tightened and he knew you were close. He started rocking his hips up to meet you, desperate for you to reach the peak of pleasure. 

You screamed his name into the void as you fell over the edge, practically crumpling in his arms. He held you steady while he continued to thrust up into you until he spilled his seed inside of you. 

You stayed like this for a while, Spencer still inside you while you panted against his shoulder. He held you gently, almost lovingly while you caught your breath. After a while he took hold of your jaw and tugged you back to look at him.

“Partners in crime.” He mumbled with a smile. 

“Partners in crime. Forever.” You nodded in agreement. 

What you didn’t know at the time was that after tonight the two of you really would be bound together forever. That night in a haze of adrenaline brought on from your latest kill, in the front seat of that little Nissan, you and Spencer had created something that would tie you to each other forever. But it would be a while before you knew what happened that night, before you discovered the life you had created on the side of that road.

Spencer kissed you softly before helping you back into your seat. You got back into your jeans while he tucked himself away, taking another sip of the scotch before starting the engine and continuing on his way. 

He continued for another half hour before he pulled into the parking lot of the Gold Country Inn in the aptly named Deadwood. Being that he wasn’t covered in blood like you, he secured a room for the two of you for the night. 

You showered together, the dead body of Jason Durand still in the trunk of the Nissan for disposal tomorrow. You drank well into the night, exchanging sexual favours until the sun came up. 

In the morning you drove out to Nebraska National Forest where he dug a grave and buried your kill before starting the five and a half hundred mile drive back to Crested Butte. Spencer held your hand for the entire drive. And for the first time since you left DC some two weeks ago, you felt at peace, like you’d finally found where you were always meant to be. 

It was a classic case of folie à deux, a delusion shared by two people in close association. You’d started to believe what you were doing was justified, that you weren’t doing anything wrong. Spencer’s unwavering faith in his cause had rubbed off on you and there was no going back. 

You were Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow, Myra Hindley and Ian Brady, Rosemary and Fred West. You’d go down in history like those who came before you, right by his side. 

You’d had a taste and you’d never be the same. Spencer had awoken a dangerous side of you that could no longer be contained. You felt untouchable. 

But the one thing all those couples had in common was that they got caught, and you were stupid in thinking that you and Spencer could be any different. Because as the two of you drove back towards your new home, back at Quantico, Penelope Garcia had made a discovery.

She ran down the hall on her too high heels, almost tripping multiple times in her rush to find the team. She shoved open the bullpen door, causing it to swing on its hinges and everyone looked up at her as she fought to catch her breath. 

“What’s wrong?” JJ jumped up from her desk and ran to her side. “What have you found?” 

“I…I…” she panted, trying to control her breathing. “I put out the APB on the blue Nissan Spencer brought from Hal’s.” 

Luke was on his feet, coming closer to Garcia with a frown on his face.

“And?” He encouraged her. 

“It’s been spotted a few times here and there but since last weekend it has mostly been in one place. It comes and goes but it’s been picked up on the same camera multiple times.” Her eyes were wide, partly through excitement and partly through fear. 

“Where, Garcia?” Rossi was on his feet now too. 

“A place called Elk Avenue in the tiny little mountain town of Crested Butte, Colorado.” She spat out. 

The team all exchanged glances with one another, Emily who was standing in her office doorway included. It would make sense given the Colorado licence Spencer had used to buy the car but why that particular town? 

“We need to check it out.” JJ spoke on behalf of everyone, but looking at Emily. 

“We can’t all go, we have cases.” Emily shook her head, looking amongst her team and trying to make a quick decision. Her eyes stayed on Luke longer than the rest while she sighed. 

“Alvez?” She cocked her eyebrow at him.

“Yeah?” 

“First thing tomorrow, wheels up.” She nodded at him before turning on her heels and storming back into her office. 

You and Spencer had no idea the wheels that were currently in motion, like a train off its tracks hurtling towards you and there was no way to slow it down or to move out of its way. 

But you wouldn’t go down without a fight, no matter what happened. The BAU couldn’t stop you, not when you’d woken up feeling this dangerous. 

This is really my night, gonna take it right now,

Yeah, I'm feelin' like a Mack truck goin' downhill.

The people on the sidelines screaming "Slow down",

But you can't kill my vibe.

I'm a head case, and I'm leading the parade,

Rounding up the maniacs, let 'em out to play.

Once you get a taste, no, you'll never be the same

Bring the creatures to life.

My hand out the window just riding the wave,

My cares in the mirror just fading away.

Yeah, I'm superhuman, don't need to be saved,

Don't press your luck, I woke up feelin' dangerous.

Woke up feelin' dangerous.

(Ba-da-da, da).

(Ba-da-da, da).

Woke up feelin'.

This one's for the misfits,

And all the people on your shit list.

And now we're blowing you a big kiss,

'Cause we don't need you now.

I'm the little thorn hangin' outta your side,

You're digging me a grave 'cause you wish I'd just die.

Turn me to a ghost, now I'm flyin' too high,

And you can't kill my vibe.

My hand out the window just riding the wave,

My cares in the mirror just fading away.

Yeah, I'm superhuman, don't need to be saved,

Don't press your luck, I woke up feelin' dangerous.

Woke up feelin' dangerous.

(Ba-da-da, da).

(Ba-da-da, da).

Woke up feelin'.

They can't mess with us,

We woke up feeling dangerous.

They can't mess with us,

We woke up feeling dangerous.

They can't mess with us,

We woke up feeling dangerous.

They can't mess with us,

We woke up feeling dangerous.

This is really my night, gonna take it right now,

Yeah, I'm feelin' like a Mack truck goin' downhill.

All the people on the sidelines screaming "Slow down",

But you can't kill my vibe.

@bubblebuttwade @jay-2s-world @daddy-dotcom

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #unsub spencer reid #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[callsign-dexter]

TK is a..... father?

Summary: TK learns that he is a father and meets his daughter.

Pairings: TK Strand x Daughter!Reader, Carlos x Daughter!Reader, TK Strand x Carlos Reyes

Warnings: angst, fluff, child abuse, mention of abortion, swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drugs, mention of attempt sexual assult

Masterlist

Mini TK

Sunday, January 9, 2022, is when TK Strand became the sole legal guardian of his 4-year-old baby girl, Y/N Dakota Strand.

Everything in the firehouse was going pretty smoothly. Not many calls had been made for the firetruck but the ambulance was getting called out every few minutes, meaning TK was out more often. So he wasn't there when Fiona Harte walked into the 126 with 4-year-old Y/N in hand. Judd was the first one to spot them and walked over to them.

"May I help you ma'am?" Judd asked her curious as to what she was doing here.

"I'm looking for TK Strand." Fiona said looking around and not at Judd. Owen having been downstairs away from his office perked up when he heard his son's and their last name.

"I'm sorry he's not here at the moment, he's on call. Do you want to leave a message?" Judd asked her and as she was beginning to speak Owen appeared. He saw the little girl but didn't want to say anything.

"I'll take it from here Judd." Owen said to his teammate. Judd left but stayed close by in case Owen needed something. "I'm TK's father, Owen Strand. What can I do for you?" He asked his arms crossed and a little standoffish since this unknown woman came into his firehouse wanting his son. He also took note of the little one that looked exactly like TK. By now everyone had gathered around but still doing their work. He also noticed the bag she was carrying.

"I'm Fiona Harte and this is Y/N... Strand. She's TK's daughter." Fiona said and the entire firehouse went silent. Owen was silent Fiona didn't say anything he looked at the little now known as Y/N, she was looking at Owen curiously.

"Why don't we go to my office and talk about this?" Owen questioned her and turned to show her the way. Fiona walked the way she was shown while Owen lingered back and motioned for Judd and he came to his Captain.

"What's up Cap?" Judd asked him and stood with his arms crossed. Owen looked to where Fiona and Y/N were making sure they were in the office before he started to speak and then looked to Judd.

"I trust you wholeheartedly to be in there when we have this conversation. I'm also going to need you to take Y/N and distract her, I don't care how, but she doesn't need to be in there. I have a feeling some choice words are gonna be said." Owen told him and Judd nodded.

"Of course Cap anything for you." Judd replied and Owen nodded and both men headed up the stairs. When they reached the office they both walked in. Owen walked to his desk and sat down and Judd stayed in the back next to the couch where Y/N was sitting and squatted down and began playing with the little girl, while Fiona was in the chair in front of the desk. It was silent for a few minutes except for Judd speaking softly to Y/N and her laughing, he had to admit she did look exactly like TK.

"How do you know she is TK's daughter?" Owen asked her getting straight to the point. Fiona sighed knowing she would get this question.

"TK and I met in 2017 and while we were both high and possibly intoxicated we slept together. He left the next day. I didn't think of anything until I was late. I went and got a pregnancy test and it came back positive. I didn't have the heart for me to get rid of the baby so I kept it." Fiona explained and Owen was silent he didn't know if he could believe her or not. He looked passed her and over at Judd who was listening and watching, he nodded to Judd and tilted his head to motion him out.

Judd turned to Y/N and quietly asked her "Hey do you want to go see a firetruck?" She perked up and nodded and Judd smiled. "Ok let's go." He picked her up and the smell of drugs and alcohol immediately hit him but just faintly. He knew that she wasn't doing anything but he knew that she had been around it. He could smell it on the mother when he was talking to her. Y/N clung to Judd as he walked downstairs her shirt dropped a little bit and he could see the bruising he really hoped this child wasn't abused but he had a bad feeling. When they got to the bottom of the stairs he sat her down and texted own.

Bruising on her shoulder and part of her neck. It's faint but there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen waited for the door to close and was about to speak when his phone buzzed, he looked at it and instantly tensed up. He didn't respond just sat his phone down and began talking.

"Y/N's gone, you can drop the act." Owen said.

"What act? I'm not acting." Fiona said but knew she had been caught when Owen gave her a look and she sighed "Fine. It was true I didn't have the heart to abort her and she really is TK's daughter. I didn't sleep with anyone before or after him."

"Why bring her now and not when you had her?" Owen said getting defensive.

"I couldn't find TK anywhere and had no way to contact him until I saw him on the news. When I found out he was in Texas well I packed the little shit up and brought her here." Fiona said and each word, she said made Owen madder.

"You could've given her up to your parents or a foster system. Why keep her in a dangerous situation?" He asked her pissed.

"My parents and I aren't speaking and I could've given her up but it kept slipping my mind. Half the time I forgot she was there." Fiona said.

"4 years is too long to have been in that situation. She should've been given up the second you knew you couldn't care for her." Owen said. "When I met you down there I could smell the alcohol and the drugs on you. Y/N will be staying here with TK, his boyfriend Carlos, and me. You will no longer be able to see her." Owen finished and got up.

"Fine by me. I don't want the little shit anymore. She was a cockblock anyways. Guys find out about her and run the other way. I'm in desperate need of a fuck and can't do that while she's around even though that didn’t stop me before but now I can do it anywhere and not care her seeing." Fiona said and got up and walked over to the bag and grabbed a stack of papers. "This is the papers for TK to have sole guardianship. I've already signed them. A note that explains everything." She finished while slapping the stack onto her desk and the note on top, and she left the office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Judd was with Y/N in the firetruck showing her around when the upstairs office door slammed and she flinched. Judd took notice of this and got out of the truck with her in tow. He got down on her level "Y/N honey, does your mom hurt you or yell at you?" Judd asked her and she was quiet.

"Sometimes. She would have guys over all the time and they leave in the morning. The house always smelt funny. Mommy and the men always hit me when I asked something or spoke." Y/N said in a quiet voice.

"Did they try to touch you?" He asked her not wanting to know the answer.

"They tried but I always ran away and hid." She said honestly and looked down with her hands in front of her.

"Hey, you did the right thing." Judd told her and lifted her head gently and then hugged and she reluctantly hugged him back, not being used to affection of love much less from a man. He let go of her when Owen and Fiona walked down the stairs. Fiona walked out of the firehouse not even saying goodbye to her daughter which confused Y/N. Owen walked over to her once he knew Fiona was gone.

"Hey, Y/N. I'm Owen. I'm your grandpa." He said getting down to her level, she did something that surprised him and Judd she hugged him.

"Hi, Grandpa." She said in a quiet voice. It wasn't much longer until the doors were opening and the ambulance was rolling in and Owen went to stand by it. TK opened the door and saw his dad there.

"Hey, Dad. What's up?" TK asked his father. He didn't say anything. Tommy and Nancy walked up.

"Everything ok Owen?" Tommy asked getting worried.

"TK I need to speak to you in the office." Owen said and TK nodded he looked at his two other teammates and shrugged his shoulders. As TK and Owen were walking, TK noticed the little girl but didn't say anything until they got to the office. Tommy and Nancy noticed her too and went over to her. Judd explained the situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen and TK got walked into the office and TK saw the papers. "Dad, what's this? Who was that little girl?" He said pointing to the papers and note and then in the general direction of the girl. Owen sighed.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. That little girl is your daughter, a woman of the name Fiona Harte came and dropped her off. These," He waved the stack of papers and the note "are for you to sign so you will have sole guardianship of her. She also left a note explaining everything." Owen finished and TK fell into the chair a million questions running through his head, Owen could see this "Fiona said you both hooked up in 2017 while high and possibly intoxicated. TK, son, Y/N doesn't come from a very good place." TK took the note and read through and after. a few moments he said and finally, TK says something.

"I don't know if I'm ready for a kid. I mean things are just now going great with Carlos, I don't want to mess anything up." TK said, "But I also don't want her growing up somewhere that she doesn't know and a possibly abusive household." He finished looking up at his father from the note.

"You don't have to make a decision right this moment. Go meet her and spend some time with her. Carlos loves you and would follow you to the ends of thr earth, he's going to love this little girl because he loves you." Owen told his son who nodded. They both headed downstairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they get downstairs they see Judd, Tommy, Nancy, Mateo, Marjan, and the others surrounding the little girl. They get there just in time for Mateo to say "She looks like a Mini TK!" And they all laugh not knowing that that name would become her nickname for the rest of her life.

TK walks over and Y/N looked up and smiled at TK and Owen. Everyone parted to let them through. TK bent down to her level and she looked at him and it felt like he was looking right in the mirror. "Hi, Y/N. I'm TK. I'm your father." He said when she smiled he had decided to keep her she walked up to him and hugged him.

"Hi, Daddy." Y/N whispered to him and he picked her up and hugged her, yup he definitely knew he was going to keep her. No doubt about it. Now he just needed to tell Carlos and have him meet her.

Speaking of Carlos he had just walked into the firehouse coming to see TK when he saw him hugging a child. He walked over to them smiling, TK always wanted kids and he did too but didn't know when the right time was. Seeing TK with kids always made him smile. "Hey, babe." Carlos said to him and that made TK turn around with Y/N in his arms and smiled as Y/N lifted up and looked at Carlos.

"Hey, baby!" TK said and gave Carlos a kiss which he returned.

"Who is this?" Carlos asked.

"This is Y/N. My daughter." TK said Carlos was speechless but still smiling. "Come on I'll explain." He said passing Y/N off to Owen who was glad to take his granddaughter.

"Use my office." Owen says knowing the papers were in there, TK nodded and grabbed Carlos' hand, and led him up to the office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once they're in the office TK closes the door and they go sit on the couch. Carlos can see the papers sitting on Owen's desk. TK wasn't smiling and neither was Carlos but not because he was mad but because TK wasn't. He was nervous and Carlos could tell. He decided to listen to what TK had to say.

"So the little girl is my daughter. Back in 2017 when I was severely messed up I got high and drunk and slept with a girl, her name is Fiona Harte, Y/N's mother. Mom came and got me the next morning after I left Fiona. Fiona left a note explaining everything." TK said and paused Carlos could see how hard this was for him and reach over and grabbed his hands in his and coaxed him to go on. "You can read the note if you want. I want her and I'm going to sign the papers." He said and took his hands from Carlos' and grabbed the note from his back pocket and handed it to Carlos who read it.

Dear, TK

This letter explains everything about the little girl that is yours. Her name is Y/N Dakota Strand she is 4. Her birthday is May 1, 2018. I don't know what she likes and dislikes when it comes to TV shows, food, or toys. I do know that her favorite colors are blue and red.

She was conceived on August 1, 2017, the night when we were both high and intoxicated. Now I know you're probably thinking that she isn't yours but she is. But, I hadn't slept with anyone before you or after and I was late so I went and got a pregnancy test and it was positive. I didn't have the heart to terminate it.

She is 100% yours. I'm sorry it took a while for her to meet you and come into your guardianship, I couldn't find you until I saw you on the news and saw you were in Texas. So, I packed the little shit up and came here.

I no longer want her, I don't want to look after her, and I want my freedom back. I don't want anything to do with her. I have already signed my name to give up my parental rights to you, all you need to do is sign and the little shit is all yours.

Sincerely, Fiona Harte

Carlos was mad that a mother could do this and put a child in this situation. He knew she was TK's when he laid eyes on her she was the exact copy of him. "TK, I'll be with you for whatever decision you make. I know how much you wanted kids and I do too. She looks so sweet. I love her already because she's an exact copy of you and I know she'll be sweet because you are." TK started to cry he was so glad to have a supportive boyfriend. TK got his phone out and texted his father to bring up Y/N and a minute later he did.

"I love you baby." TK said to Carlos and hugged him.

"I love you too." Carlos replied hugging back and letting go when Owen opened the door.

Owen walked in and sat Y/N down and walked her over to the two men. Carlos and TK smiling. "Hi, Y/N. I'm Carlos your daddy's boyfriend and hopefully your other father someday." She smiled and looked at him.

"Hi, Papa." She said and hugged him and all of their hearts melted. TK got up and walked over to where the papers sat and started signing his name after Owen read through it. As he was doing that Carlos was with Y/N and her shirt fell off of her shoulder. He saw the faint bruising on her and instantly got mad.

"Y/N, baby. Who did this to you?" Carlos asked which got TK's attention, who was now done signing the papers and walked over along with Owen, seeing the bruising.

"Mommy and her boyfriends. She would have guys over all the time and they leave in the morning. The house always smelt funny. Mommy and the men always hit me when I asked something or spoke. They tried to touch me but I ran away and hid." Y/N told them what she told Judd. She was looking down expecting to get in trouble.

"Oh, honey. You're safe with us now nothing or nobody is going to hurt anymore. You're not in trouble." TK said and picked her up and hugged her. Y/N was shocked that she wasn't in trouble she usually got in trouble or hit more when she spoke up about her situation.

"Your daddy is right. We're here for you and will protect you." Owen said coming to stand next to TK and rubbed her back.

"You're always safe with us. You won't have to go back to that awful place or person anymore." Carlos said and came up to his family and wrapped his arm around TK. What they didn't know was that Maeto was up there and taking a picture of them being a family and smiling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TK didn't know if he wanted to keep her at first but after getting to know her in a short amount of time, seeing her with Carlos, and having both his and Owen's support he knew she wasn't going anywhere. He knew that she couldn't go back to Fiona not after what Y/N said.

Y/N is right where she should be, with her Dad, Papa, Grandpa, and her 126 family. She's going to be one protected little girl.

#Mini TK #9-1-1 lone star #9-1-1 lone star fic #9-1-1 lone star x daughter!reader #tarlos #carlos reyes x tk strand #tk strand x daughter!reader #carlos reyes x daughter!reader

[riptideripley]

I wanted to know if you could do a Rhea Ripley x fem reader imagine, where R is like this blonde/or poc bombshell kinda of like Kelly Kelly. Most wrestlers look at her as a valet and like really ditzy, but she’s with the judgement day. Like she always wears pink and white, versus them wearing black and purple, but during a feud with another group they just insult her and Rhea tries to stick up for her. Then she proves herself in the ring by beating down her opponent, and they’re all like we never knew you could do that. Then it’s kinda Rhea taking her more seriously as a wrestler. Bonus if they’re already dating, and Rhea never really saw her as more than a valet and she just wants to prove herself. Thank You!!!!!

The Valet

summary:You were the valet for the Judgement day. With close studying of matches,you had a few tricks up your sleeve and finally got to showcase them

(story)wordcount:612

a/n:tried my best with this,sorry for the wait!

You were a new addition to the Judgement day,everyone saw you differently than the rest of the group. Your personality was completely different than the rest of the group and you were their Valet. You were also known as Rhea’s girlfriend,being with her for 2 years. Your attire was different,personality,everything. So often people saw you as a ditzy woman.

You were backstage sitting on Rhea’s lap before the promo with Damage Ctrl. You checked the time and got up to fix your outfit,along with a few final touches to your makeup. Rhea smiled,she loved your personality and just you in general. People wondered how you two were even a couple due to you having polar opposite wrestling personalities but outside of WWE she was just the same as you. “You ready princess?” she asked sticking her hand out. “Of course!” you responded and took her hand,walking to the gorilla alongside the rest of the Judgement day.

The music cued and you all walked out,Rhea with a microphone in her hand. “Now now Bayley. Don’t get beside yourself,I mean come on you really think you could beat me?” Rhea spoke as she got in the ring with the assistance of Dominik. You got in with her and stood next to her,clinging onto her arm like a baby while holding her title across your shoulder. Just when Rhea was about to speak,Dakota interrupted her. “Of course she can! As long as your silly dumb bitch doesn’t get involved.” she spoke,pointing at you. Rhea clenched her jaw looking down at you,making you look up at her. You gently dropped her title and stared at Dakota,her mocking how you skip with your hands behind your back when walking with the Judgement day.

Rhea was about to speak when you suddenly kicked Dakota in her stomach making her drop instantly. You threw several blows at Bayley and Iyo,knocking them off as you grabbed Dakota. You wrapped your hand around her throat and lifted her up,choke slamming her into the mat. Rhea stood there in shock along with Damien,Finn and Dominik cheered you on along with the crowd. You drop kicked and head butted Bayley,grabbing Iyo’s hand and twisting it slowly before throwing her out of the ring. You then dragged Dakota into the center of the mat,climbing to the top rope and doing a moonsault. You then got up smiling and did a cute finger wave towards Dakota(similar to Rhea),jumping onto Rhea’s back. Dominik grabs Rhea’s title as he helps you two out of the ring,Finn and Damien following.

“That was amazing!” Dom spoke once backstage,making you smile. “Never knew you had that in you (your name)..think we need to schedule you a match with Dakota soon” Damien said,getting a hum of agreement from Rhea. “Not unless I get some training first” you told him making Rhea’s eyes widen a little. “You did all of that..with no training?” “Mhm! I just pay very close attention to your matches along with others” you responded and planted a kiss to her cheek. She smiled and gave you a soft kiss,dragging you to Vince’s office. “Vince,I have a request. Can we start getting her into training along with matches? I mean you saw how she was tonight” she asked politely glancing at Triple H in the corner. They exchanged a look of agreement and nodded,accepting her request.

From that day forward,you wrestled alongside Rhea. She began taking you more seriously in wrestling and you were the new tag team champions.

#wwe #wwe x reader #judgement day #rhea ripley #dominik mysterio #damien priest #finn balor #damage ctrl

[ripleyswrld]

Hiii! I love your work sooooo much! I think it’s very creative each time.I have a question..it’s ok if you don’t wanna do it ofc but…Could you do either of these scenarios? Or both,if it’s not too much ofc!

Can you make a rhea x fem.y/n when the reader has a little too much to drink and Rhea scolds them,but in the end all she did was wanna take care of her girlfriend?(Adjust for your liking!)

Or… Can you make a rhea x fem. Y/n that the r has been teasing Rhea way too much,and at some point Rhea can’t take it anymore. Maybe light smut(Adjust to your liking ofc)

if you can’t I understand but thanks for reading anyways 🤞🏾✨❤️

A Little Too Much To Drink

Rhea Ripley x reader

CW: drinking, overprotective Rhea (yum), mentions of vomit

You had decided to throw a surprise party for Rhea after her big wrestlemania win, you and a couple of your friends spent ages planning the perfect party. All of it was put together while Rhea was away for a couple of days doing extra work. When she came home to a huge party for her which was completely unexpected she was thrilled, seeing all of her friends in one room just to celebrate her accomplishment. She was incredibly affectionate with you that night, showing her appreciation in her own way.

The party was heavily prepared with food and drinks, the taste of the cocktails had you hooked the whole night and it was obvious to Rhea that about half way through that you have already drank too much. When you came back with your 6th drink that night, stumbling a little bit as you did and sat back down on rhea’s lap.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough for one night?” Rhea told you, taking the drink from your hand and placing it on the table in front of you both.

“Don’t be ridiculousss, I’m not drunk.” You replied slurring on your words, picking the drink back up and accidentally spilling some on your clothes as you did. “Oh shit.”

Rhea lightly swiped a tissue over the cocktail you spilled on your clothes, cleaning you up.

“Come on baby, you’ve had enough.” She said while you laid your head on her shoulder, closing your eyes.

“If you’re gonna be a party pooper then I am going to l-leave!” You climbed off her lap and stumbled over to your friend who was standing by the kitchen island.

Rhea knew this wasn’t going to end well at all, she’d been in situations like this before with you and she always took care of you. You completely denied being drunk at all and you weren’t usually like that.

“Helloo Rhea!” Dakota Kai came and sat next to her, swirling her drink in the cup as she spoke. “Where’s y/n?”

Rhea pointed to the kitchen island where you stood with Becky, swaying on the spot.

“Well they seem to be having fun.” Dakota giggled slightly. “What’s the matter you look upset?”

“I’m not upset I’m just worried.” Rhea told her, keeping a close eye on you.

“If you’re worried about y/n then I don’t blame you, they do seem to be quite loopy at the moment.” Dakota turned to look at you.

“They won’t listen to a word I’m saying, they aren’t usually like that.” Rhea said, scraping the wood of the table she sat at gently with her finger trying to ease her mind.

“They’ll be okay Rhea, just keep an eye on them from time to time.” Dakota gave Rhea a light pat in the back. “This is your party remember and y/n put a lot of work in to it.”

When Dakota left Rhea was alone with her thoughts, a couple of people came to sit beside her or to congratulate her on her win. But nothing else was on her mind other than making sure you were okay. When it got to the end of the night and everyone was leaving to go home. You had drank about 9 different type of cocktails and almost thrown 2 of them up. Rhea came up to stand beside you when everyone left.

“Come on love, let’s get you ready for bed hm?” She wrapped an arm around your waist.

All you did was nod, the fatigue and intoxication obvious in your eyes. You couldn’t find the ability to speak. She lifted you up, she put both her arms around you and you wrapped your legs around her waist as she carried you to the bathroom.

She put you down when you got there and you leaned on the bathroom sink as she grabbed makeup wipes from the cupboard. She pulled out 2 makeup wipes and gently wiped your makeup off as she asked you how you felt.

“Are you okay, how do you feel my love?” Rhea said as she took your mascara off.

“I’m sorry Rhea..” you said quietly, on the verge of tears for how shitty you felt.

“It’s okay my angel, don’t be upset.” She kissed the tip of your nose lightly, the gesture making your smile. “Let’s get you to bed hm?”

You nodded and she lifted you up against, you let her carry you to your shared bedroom. She asked if she could undress you to put you in pyjamas and you gave her a light nod.

Once you were all cozy in your pj’s she placed you into bed and grabbed a glass of water to put on your bedside table. She too got ready for bed and scooted in beside you, turning off the light that she could tell was hurting your eyes.

“I’m sorry again Rhea, I should have listened to you before it got out of hand.” You told her, your speak still quiet and a bit slurred.

“It’s alright love, I’m happy to take care of you.” She pushed your hair behind your ear while she replied.

You ended the night cuddled up to Rhea, knowing that she’d always be there when you needed her without even knowing it yourself.

Damn it’s been a hot minute, I apologise. I’ve been so dry with ideas and pretty low on requests but now I have loads so thank you!

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley imagine

[judgementdaysunshine]

Taking a stand

Pairing: Finn Balor x Fem reader x Rhea Ripley

Description: You join the Judgement Day after having enough of Roman along with notes and some heat with Finn and Rhea

You couldn't believe you were doing this to Roman knowing he would harm maybe even kill you if you didn't run if the boys didn't before he did. You had been in the bloodline for a few months before Sami joined and things were good for awhile but you had enough of worrying of roman harming you or the boys mainly Jey since he was the one roman was the hardest one out of everyone, everything leading to now started two months when you found a letter in your jacket pocket after getting jumped by a few of the girls and roman slamming you into the wall making the boys beat you up as much as they didn't mainly Solo since he was the one you were closest to out of everyone whispering sorry to you before you were in your locker room reading the letter leaving you a bright red mess secretly spending the new few weeks trying to figure out who was leaving the notes and letters even flowers in your locker room feeling confused and stun when you walk in to find Rhea in your locker room after your match against Dakota Kai unable to keep your eyes off rhea even though you were scared. The thing you weren't expecting was her to kiss you placing a hickey on your hip under your shorts catching your breath against the wall while she waves before unlocking the door and leaving you a breathless, tousled, and turned on mess reading the note she left in your pocket but you are caught off guard when Finn walks in locking the door only to grin at you which left you putty as he pinned your arms kissing along your neck tying a bandana around your face feeling your heart go erratic at him running his hands over your body kissing and licking your thighs before he was buried between your legs while you held onto the couch biting your tongue trying to compose yourself after he takes the bandana off pressing a soft kiss to your lips before helping you up "Join us we can help you and also we don't harm each other because of a loss" you spend the next week thinking on and off on it until roman broke the final straw writing a letter and leaving it in the judgement day locker room while they were out in the ring making your decision before the bloodline went out to the ring. After seeing jey yet again be abused by roman you snapped squeezing Sami and solo's hands before whispering to them "I'm sorry but this is for the best know that I still love you guys" the boys eyes widen realizing what you were meaning as you slide back in the ring with a kendo stick hitting roman in the face before going crazy screaming and crying before you're pulled off by solo as you scream "I AM DONE" the whispers of the boys saying they love you and hugging you before walking backstage broke your heart crying with mixed emotions not even realizing that you were surrounded by the judgement day being held in rhea's arms and hugged by the boys before the twins, solo, and sami walk backstage sharing hugs with them looking at them when solo holds your wrist "We still got your back and no matter what we still family" more tears run down your face sharing one last group hug and I love you before they walk away going into the judgement day locker room where your hands are intertwined sitting in rhea's lap and legs on finn's lap where they hold you tightly feeling a new sense of safety and love as you fall asleep telling them that this was the first step of you taking a stand against roman seeing finn kiss your knuckles and rhea pressing a kiss to your temple

#finn balor x reader #wwe #wwe x reader #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #finn balor #rhea ripley x reader x finn balor #finn balor x reader x rhea ripley

[uncouth-the-fifth]

(you are a) natural, baby - Sam Winchester/Reader

read it on ao3.

Pairing: Virgin!Sam Winchester/AFAB!Reader (vaguely s1 or 2) Tags/Warnings: blowjobs, deepthroating, Impala sex, whiny/submissive Sam (with hints of the opposite). nothing too insane. yk the deal. Word Count: 11034 Notes: hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. i've been. thinking about sam lately. and i MAY or may not have had the most vivid wet dream of my life... which may or may not have inspired this slightly........... enjoy! there will be a sequel btw ;) for plot's sake, yes, Sam is 23 and is still a virgin 🍾 Ask to be added to my taglists for future posts!

You couldn't believe your luck.

You notched the car into park, lips parted in disbelief. Holy shit. Rain bore down on the car from all sides, making an already dark night impossible to walk in, nevermind drive. Baby—or the Impala, you corrected yourself, since Sam always poked fun at you for picking up Dean's little nickname—had puttered out her last huff of warm air a few miles back. That left at least another hour’s worth of driving until you were back to Dean, who was waiting back where your present job was. There was no way you could get back in this weather. It'd be past midnight soon anyway, so…

You played your fingers on the wheel. Bent over it, squinting at the rain. Slumped back in your seat. All the while, Sam watched you go through the motions passively. He already knew what you knew: you'd have to camp here for the night. Just the two of you. Alone.

The universe had done everything short of smashing you together like kissing barbies. In this week alone, the messy line of feelings between you and Sam had been tested at least a hundred times. It was obscene. Ever since Sam's twenty-third birthday, all the forces of nature had woken to remind you at every turn how stupid horny you were for him. Sam was no longer the beanpole you could easily throw while sparring; there was a man in your passenger’s seat, a good deal taller than you on miles and miles of leg, with handsome, veiny arms and a lap made for sitting in. Your childhood crush had been nursed so long that it'd grown into love. But now that you were a twenty-five-year-old, full-time hunter, there was little room for a childhood novelty. You had instead made space for a covetous, needy desire that the universe loved to throw in your face.

Monday. Sam had helped Dean out with one of the less-than-junk cars in Bobby's yard, bent up under the bonnet, sweat and grime making his tee cling to the landscape of his back. And Jesus, what a landscape it was… Sloped and firm with experienced, long-developed muscle. Tuesday. Dean got on the subject of blowjobs, and Sam immediately got off the subject. Significantly, you learned he's never had one. Your mouth watered just sitting next to him. Wednesday. You risked using the last towels in the pile for your shower, each just big enough to close and cover your modesty—if you don’t stand up straight. Sam caught you coming out of said shower. He looked, looked some more, and you sniped at him for it around the saliva building in your mouth. All you wanted to do was claw his jeans around his ankles and blow him until he forgot his name. Sam lingered like he wanted the exact same thing, and both of you pretended to ignore the tent in his pants. Thursday. Sam coached you in long-bowing. You stood just inches apart in an empty field, Sam's shoes between your in the grass, and you fucked up every damn shot because Sam's massive hands were on your waist and your hips and in your belt-loops. He'd lean in until he was almost kissing the shell of your ear and say, S’ alright. Just focus on your footing. You're doing great, even though you hadn't hit a single target. Friday. You, him and Dean left for a North Dakota case. You had to share a bed with one of the boys, and Sam reminded you what sharing meant the whole night, huffing soft moaning breaths against the back of your neck in his sleep.

You resist the urge to clamp your thighs together. It'd been freezing cold in your room and you’d been sharing beds since you were young; to have just your backs pressed together was impressive. At one point, you turned over and Sam stretched back to meet you, his warm spine flush to your chest without hesitation, flaying you instantly. He’d seeped back into the mattress as content as could be. You resisted the urge to run your fingers through his floppy hair, or caress the smooth strip of flesh that the seam of his shirt didn't cover. You failed at the first—but to be fair, Sam's hair was in your face and it was annoying you and you had to be close, because the room was so cold. And your hand just ended up there. And then it ended up under his shirt, your nails stroking his stomach, because Sam was a tease who'd dragged your arm around him in the first place. He'd been shaking, it was so cold. You couldn't just let him freeze. Regardless, it was hard to say no to him when he was smoothing your palm against his ribs like that.

“Think we can make a run to get the blankets from the trunk?” Sam invited. “I can do it if you give me the keys.”

You wanted to say more to that, but you settled instead on taking the keys out of the Impala and dropping them in Sam’s waiting hand. “Thank you,” you murmured, and Sam bobbed his head once before braving the weather.

He was gone for less than a minute, but the clinging silence that rang in your ears could’ve gone on forever. The rain pounded across the car with a vendetta, plunking off the metal and hammering over your empty parking lot just as hard. It raced down the glass fast enough to make the outside world a shimmering blue mirage. Sam’s figure was a darker silhouette closer to the glass, and you busied yourself putting a sweater on as he dove inside.

“Dammit,” Sam cursed. He knew better than to shake his hair out on Dean’s good leather, so he tossed down the blankets in between you—and there was a generous gap—to hunt around the backseat for a towel. The amber streetlights gave you just one glimpse of Sam’s rain-streaked face. It shouldn’t have flushed your belly with want as much as it did, but that’s half the reason you were in this mess.

“S’ bad out there,” you said, obviously. Sam agreed with a hum, and together you sorted yourselves for relaxing before you slept.

Before, you’d had the car on and the heater going, so you were mostly okay with your jackets tossed in the backseat. Sam had on a tee and a moss-colored sweater to keep him warm, and you had the thought of his firm muscle underneath those layers to keep you warm. Though more cold had seeped back into the Impala, you didn’t put on your jacket, toeing off your boots in the footwell. You piled on your blankets and curled up against the seat, Sam doing the same. He hadn’t put his jacket on either.

You shared a glance. Well, it was more like Sam was already looking at you and you caught him, flushing up to your ears. “There’s no way we won’t make it there til morning,” he said, “I’ll text Dean.”

“Good idea,” you agreed. You brought your legs closer to your chest, bumping Sam’s thigh with a stray foot. To your surprise, he glanced up at you at the contact, and again you found one of his coy glances. You couldn’t believe it. Was he...?

All four burners in your body flicked onto a simmer at the same time. You bit your lip, taking him in as he was illuminated by his phone’s screen, wet twisting curls of hair in his eyes. “S’ okay. I don’t think Dean will care, with how slow this case is going. Though I can guess why you’re so eager to get back,” you tested the waters with a sly smile. “That witness—Miss Checknik, she was really aiming to get you alone, huh?”

Sam was still raw from Dean pressing his buttons on this, so he was shier than usual when he mumbled, “It’s… not like that… I’ve never even done that before.”

“What?” you blurted. “Had sex?”

Sam’s gaze snapped up to yours. Around you the rain roared, but you still caught his subtle hitch of breath. His pause went on for another telling amount of time, until Sam’s ears were red too. “...It’s not like you have either,” he muttered.

This had to be on purpose. You tossed an arm over the back of the seat, knuckles against your cheek and a growing, sly smile on your face.

Sam sat up. “You’re kidding. Really?”

You slouched, huffing. “What, is that a surprise or something?”

“No,” Sam spoke a little too quickly, like he’d been thinking about it. He swallowed. “No, not at all. I was just…”

You wet your lips and let your eyes drift over him. Sam sat stiff in your passenger's seat, legs crossed a little too tightly, his hands folded together over his lap, hiding a building, jealous hard-on. A muscle jumped in his neck. The shivery warmth that reigned over you every time Sam entered the room conquered you again, watching him squirm, and you couldn't help but do the math. You could… you could make an offer. If he said no, that was fine. All you’d have to do was endure a night's sleep in the car with him then a few awkward days afterward—but you and Sam had done that dance a hundred times before, after kissing for spin-the-bottle or getting caught lusting after each other, so maybe this was it. This week had been filled with omens.

You went all in.

“We travel a lot and it relieves stress, so… I’ve picked up a few dates. Bar-flings, heat-of-the-moment stuff with hunters, every once in a while.”

You risked a glance at him through your lashes. Sam had inched closer to listen, just enough for you to notice, and was clearly trying to sculpt his face into something less interested—but his eyes were glazed and his attention was rapt. You had him right on the hook.

Sam swallowed. His voice was thick with arousal. “I, um, didn't know that was your thing.”

You shrugged, “I don’t enjoy it as much as Dean does, but yeah. The guys I pick up, I mean—they’re okay. Most can't find their way around a bra, never mind… well, y’know. You get what you can get. But the other parts, the fun parts of sex…” Even you were blushing at how dirty your smile felt. “I'm real lucky, Sam. Most girls don't get off making their partners happy, but I do. It's… made me real good.” You twisted so your chest was pushed toward him, feeling yourself ache in your jeans. You hushed coyly: “I’m told I’m a real natural with my mouth.”

“Really.” Sam repeated. He sputtered out a half-hearted chuckle. His cheeks had gone all cute and ruddy with a blush, exposing the lighter moles on his face.

“Really,” you promised.

The look on Sam's face went beyond teasing, now. You’d told yourself you were just messing around with him, but Sam was twitching in his seat, suddenly unable to sit right, and all the years of play-flirting had apparently stacked too high. Something hot and magnetic had brought you closer and closer together in the Impala’s front seat. Sam was frozen like he wanted to crawl out into the rain and disappear—always so shy, so easy—but something else rooted him to the spot this time. One more motion and you could close that measly gap blazing between you, get his skin pressed firmly to yours. Your arms and back and belly crawled with a phantom itch, and Sam's hands looked so perfect and big that you knew they could fix that feeling. Your mouth felt wet and lonely. Sam's was right there, panting as he waited for you to do something.

“Have you really never had sex before?” You filled Sam's flushed silence. You scrutinized him, brows furrowed with sympathy. “Not even a blowjob?”

Sam's whole body hitched like a slow to start engine at the word. He temporarily forgot himself, choking on his breath and roaming his sweaty palms across his thighs—uncovering, for just an instant, the outline of something firm and big in his jeans.

Still, Sam's eyes couldn't shake yours.

“Um, no,” Sam admitted. “Never had t-the… opportunity, I guess. Or the right person.”

“Would you?” You scrambled to let the words loose, then resettled in your seat, lounging back and stifling your excitement. Sam's dick. Sam's big, virgin dick in your mouth. “If the right person…” you gestured vaguely, like this was still at all a hypothetical, “gave you the opportunity?”

It took Sam a second, eyes flickering fast over your face beneath his bangs, but eventually, he gave a single short nod.

A nuclear reactor’s worth of heat sizzled up from your toes. It bubbled out of you in a pleased, purring sigh, and you could barely suppress your grin, your butterflies, your nervousness, when you crawled into the cold space beside him on the bench. You leaned in slow by his ear. Your nails played across his thudding pulse, his taut neck, spurring Sam’s breaths into gasps. At an agonizing pace, you dragged your soft nails behind his ear, to the tingling nape of Sam's neck, and relished in the feel of his flesh like a vampire as you stroked him there. The blunts of your nails scratched gently at his hairline. Sam squeezed out a soft moaning sigh, so sweet and trusting that you closed your eyes to soak in it all the way.

After a few strokes of your nails to Sam's shivering skin, you fanned your warm breath down his shuddering collar and barely kept yourself from moaning in his ear: “I’m real smart with my mouth, Sammy… I could make your first time good for you. Better n’ good, even.”

He sat there in utter disbelief. Sam breathed hard, and now that your hand was on him, his squirming had stopped. After a deep, weighing pause, Sam removed his hands from his lap and slid them down to his knees instead, tasting the growing appetite in his mouth.

“...What would it feel like?” The rasp in his voice made you instantly wet.

You flushed. “You want me to describe it to you?”

Sam gave a shy shrug of his shoulders, playing innocent, but that clever smile of his had been haunting you all week. He knew precisely what he was doing. “Never had one,” Sam reminded.

The car was suddenly boiling. You had kicked off your blanket a long time ago, and so had Sam, which left you in layers that neither of you wanted anymore.

“Well,” you breathed out, amused. You gave yourself room to undo your coat, and Sam hung on every motion, making each exposed inch of you feel needy and overheated. “I really only know it from the giver's point of view, but, um, it's really fun for guys. I'm sure you've heard other men talk about it before. Unwinds your whole body and blows your mind, done right,” you talked as you shed your coat. “If they made it sound easy to give a good blowjob, Sam—it’s not. You have to know what you're doing, how to read your partner… know what they like… luckily for you,” you hummed, “I've never had a complaint.”

Sam nodded after nearly everything you said, unsure where to settle his hands or what to say. He looked more demure than you’d ever seen him, and it was so cute to you it was almost unbearable. You could imagine him making that exact face at you with his wet dick pushing into the inside of your cheek—all bashful but desperate, hinged on your every word, your every lick. The thought of all the pretty sounds he'd make when you blew him left you on sensory overload, and the only thing that would fix it was Sam kissing you breathless.

It struck you that Sam was really gonna let you do this for him, after years of him caring too much about you to let you take care of him. You were left with a peculiar rush; Sam trusted you.

“Blowjobs are… all the good bits of kissing and jerking off put together,” you explained. You settled back where you’d been before, hanging on Sam's shoulder and talking filthy in his ear as he quivered with want. This time your nails drew circles on his collar, and Sam surprised you by squeezing his hand around your thigh to steady himself. You could've cum on the spot. A flood of heat burned down your gut and throbbed between your legs, soaking your underwear clean through.

You’d never stopped looking at each other, but your faces were closer than ever and the eye contact felt explosive. It was dark but for the streetlight, and quiet but for the endless rain, both aspects of life you saw every day—monsters in the dark and a storm banging on the car. But with Sam there, these everyday mundanes felt… romantic. Passionate, like the movies. His eyes were this beautiful, soft fawn brown. You couldn't wait to see that slip of color admire you from between Sam's thighs.

“The girl, she’ll…” your mouth flooded with drool. “I’ll get down on my knees for you,” you corrected, boldly.

Sam sucked in a shaky breath, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you rasped. “And I'll get nice and comfy there, because I'm gonna waste as much time on you as I can…”

Your hand graduated into his hair again, since Sam forgot how to breathe each time you did it, and with it occupied you lingered on his face. Sam looked piss-drunk with lust; his head was on a swivel, lolling in whatever direction you went, his lashes fluttering low on red-patched cheeks. “I'm gonna take my time getting your pants off, y’know, tickling your legs.” A particularly dirty thought occurred to you, and it must've shown on your face because Sam's parted lips opened further. “Maybe, if you wanted, I could do this little trick I learned with my teeth… open your fly that way. You want that?”

Sam's eyes flicked down to your mouth, thinking. “I do,” he bobbed his head, “I really do.”

“Okay.” You pet Sam's chest, and coupled with the attention of your nails in his hair, a moan seeped out of him, vibrating somewhere deep under your hand. You grinned a shark’s grin. “...Then I'd look at you like that, cause’ that's what I've been dying to do for ages, see you all hard for me and nobody else. You might kill me cause’ you're so beautiful, Sam. And I'd kiss you everywhere I could… all over your thighs, your hips, the muscles in your stomach, your dick… your cock.” A whine jumped out of Sam's throat. Just the word made your throat feel open. “When you're squirming and begging for me to pull you out, I'll take off your boxer briefs, too, the blue ones I know you're wearing—” You’d seen him in them that morning, when he'd crossed his arms and his shirt had rucked up enough to flash some belly. Sam huffed an embarrassed laugh, and you kept going. “I know exactly what I'll do when your boxers are off, cause’ I've been waiting years for it. M’ gonna take your dick in my hand and just admire it, feel how big it is, imagine what it'll be like inside me—” Sam cursed aloud at that, “—inside my warm, wet mouth. I've been imagining what it looks and feels like for so long, Sammy, I think I deserve to see the real deal. Don't you think?”

You ran a finger along Sam's collarbone, and he rolled into it, chasing the slightest touch of your hand regardless if it was on his dick or not. You hadn't even drifted below his belt yet, and Sam was still arching into your touch like it would make him cum. He nodded mindlessly, sweat and rain making his hair cling to his face. “God,” he swore. “You do, ____—you d’serve it so much… so much…”

You cupped Sam's sweaty, tacky jaw, and he sighed like you’d rubbed him through his jeans. You resisted the urge to do just that, asking, “Can I have a kiss, Sammy?”

Sam peeled himself off the seat and rolled into your arms. The hand on your thigh was joined by a second, bracing his huge, sturdy palms on your legs in a way that made you grateful you weren't balancing on them, and with his face nestled in your hands and his eyes all dewy for you, Sam kissed you. You knew that that was it—every time you found your way to a kiss with him, it was the final straw. You loved him. Sam kissed you like he loved you too, pecking you soft and light like you were his dream girl, like he only wanted to treat you gentle, since so often his hands were forced to do the opposite. Quickly, your fingers were in his rain-tangled hair. Sam drew back to groan and then angled his head, pecking you in deep and loving bursts until you were giggling at him. He kissed those giggles too, smiling into his dimples. Sam never failed to make your heart go rabid when he did that, kissing you good; you had seen him kiss other girls before, and he never seemed as skilled or intuitive unless it was with you. Something tirelessly drove him to impress you.

You urged Sam's back flat to the seat again. With your leverage returned, you cupped his neck, then his shoulders, slipping your hands into his shirt, first through his collar and then up his stomach, palms seeking and appreciative. His flesh was warm and his figure was firm or yielding in all the right places. Sometimes, when you sparred and Sam was on top of you, or when you shared beds and his back was pressed to yours, you got glimpses of what Sam felt like. But now that you were free to roam where you pleased, only one signal could make its way through your nervous system: he is so beautiful. You uttered this to him in a frenzy. Sam couldn't get any redder, but you could feel his skin get warmer yourself, could press your hands flat to it and feel the life underneath, which was all the response you needed.

You licked your way into Sam's mouth. He was pliant for you as you did, whole-heartedly enjoying the filthiness of your tongue lapping and sucking at his, even if it was new to him. You laved yours from his bottom lip, across his open, wet mouth and flat against his top lip, prying approving little sounds from him. Butterflies furled and unfurled their wings in your stomach.

When you finally freed yourself, you sucked down breaths open-mouthed and fell back on your haunches.

“That's how it's gonna feel on your cock,” you proclaimed, and swiped a line of spit off his chin.

“Yeah?” Sam panted.

You wormed your fingers under the seam of your tight tee and yanked it over your head, cursing at him in a wrecked whisper. “Yeah. Then I'm gonna put you all the way in my throat, every inch of you, lickin’ and kissin’ all I can get. And when you're ready to cum, m’ gonna play with you, n’ hold you in mouth and make you sit like that.”

Sam mewled, only making your craze to get your pants off even worse. “Why?”

“‘Cause you've tortured me, baby,” you swore. You rocked back onto your tailbone and wormed off your bottoms, sucking back spit at the sight of Sam puppy-dog-eying you and palming his dick—palming his dick because of you, because of your lacy black underwear and how it looked on you. You knew you looked hot. But Sam made you feel it, like you were a Victoria's Secret cover model, like you were the hottest girl he'd ever seen, naked or otherwise. And you were—Sam had never been with anyone else. “Look at me, Sammy. You've tortured me. Made me wait to kiss you and touch you like this for so long, I almost lost my mind. So you're gonna get a taste of your own medicine, just for a bit—and when I think you can't take it anymore, just like me, then I'm gonna let you cum wherever you want. On my face, my tits, on my stomach…” you choked back a wave of unbridled, insatiable want, groaning out, “...in my mouth… inside me...”

The low, guttural noise puttering out of Sam broke. He took you by the underarms and yanked you against him, genuinely hauling you off your ass with a strength you forgot he had, little pants and miserable snarling moans pouring from him. Your mouths slotted together hard and unprettily. It knocked a girlish laugh out of you—when Sam let you breathe between sucking your face off, anyway.

“You like that idea, huh?” You teased.

Sam dropped a hand across your temple. His hand was so big that it could cover the entirety of your face, or perfectly seal over your mouth. In ways no other man had ever done for you, he stroked your hair back all tender just so he could get a look at his girl. You nuzzled into the weight without any mind for where you were going, knowing nothing but Sam’s love and Sam’s chest expanding and shrinking between you.

Those big fawn eyes wondered up at you. “You’d let me do that? Already?”

“I’d let you do anything.” You dropped what remained of your filter. This was truly dumbfounding to him, apparently, because Sam sat there stupidly for a second with his mouth open. He snapped it shut as you neared your faces, making it even easier to press a kiss to the seam of his mouth. “Any other man would take advantage of that chance. M’ not stupid. But you’re the only one I can think of who’d… who’d,” you searched for the words, admiring Sam’s nosebridge with your thumb. He had such pretty moles. “You’d be good to me,” you concluded.

Sam blinked. “...I’d want to be,” he smiled, sounding dulcet. Again, Sam brushed back your hair. “I mean… Anybody who wouldn’t be good to you i-is… is an idiot.”

“Exactly,” you smirked. Slow and sultry, you pressed your nose and lips into the plush of Sam’s cheek and dragged, then a little more, just glimpsing the skin with yours. He was ready and shuddering when your lips were at his ear. “That’s why it’s you I’m thinking about when I’m fingering myself.”

Another weak sound wept out of Sam. Christ, the noises he could make. If your imagination had even come close to the real thing, you would’ve been this dirty-mouthed with him ages ago.

Sam cursed, “Jesus, ____.”

“It’s true.” You pressed this promise with a kiss into his cheek, then again, at his jaw, letting yourself sink into each one with boundless pleasure. Sam melted helplessly against you, ears perked. “Every day. Every time I took a shower, after sharing a bed with you all weekend. I was always soaking wet because of something you’d done hours ago that I just couldn’t shake, hot out of my mind…” you swallowed down another onslaught of drool. “I pictured you having a hard day, y’know, needing something to perk you up. I’d haul your jeans down and lick you all over like an ice cream cone.”

Sam’s whole upper body was blushing so hard now that steam floated off him. “God, me too.”

Your brows raised. “Yeah?”

He nodded himself dizzy. “That same thing. You having a hard day. I’d… I’d…”

You leaned in, blinking in shock. “How did you imagine it?”

“We’d be kissing.” One of his long, too-long-to-be-wasted fingers followed a thread of your panties. “On your bed, the Impala, wherever we could find. I’d lay back and… and you’d crawl on top of me…get your legs around my head—”

Sam’s hot, moist breath tickled your face. So close, with your lips wet from Sam’s kissing already, it was all too easy to follow along with his fantasy. Sitting in his lap in the backseat. Laying him down there, your palms flat and steadying on his chest. Curling your thighs around his face until his nose pressed up into you, then his mouth, slipping open, and his hot, silky tongue taking long drinks of you. The sensory ghost of it alone could’ve made you cum.

You blurted: “You’d eat me out?”

One man-paw of his smoothed down the planes of your back, palming big handfuls of your skin. Now, it was his turn to smile wolfishly. Sam confessed: “I’ve always wanted to.”

The admission temporarily launched you into orbit, and for a long time you hung there, clinging to him by the shirt, dully aware of the rainy smell of him and how hard your cunt was pulsing. Sam. Your Sam, sitting with these thoughts in his head. At the same time that you were pushing your knees together when he sat beside you at the dinner table, Sam was fantasizing about getting between them. The eroticism of it already had you close to edge. Anytime you’d ever been with him, at some point, Sam had to have thought about how his fingers would feel digging into your ass-flesh while he fucked you with his tongue, while you squealed his name, the flat of your toes curled against his shoulders. Uncensored. He could’ve revealed any fantasy on top of that, but he chose this one. The one that had him pleasuring you and fucking loving it. Sam didn’t just want you—he wanted the angle that could get him the most of you, the most exposed and honest position. You fucking loved him.

You were tonguing into his mouth before Sam could finish, both hands in possessive fists around his shirt. Sam started laughing, the asshole, but you persisted, closing him in with passionate dips of your head and kissing him senseless. Your hands feasted on him, clawing into his hair and down the back of his shirt and around again. Nothing was enough. You were convinced you wouldn’t be satisfied until you were Sam, or melded into him somehow, like chocolate chips in a warm pot.

“Thought about… tasting you n’ makin’ you feel good,” Sam hissed. “So good that you’d have’ta put your fist in your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. You’d put your hands in my hair a-and… and… shit, you’d taste so good. I want to taste you so bad, ____. Want you to—” he leached you into a long, surging kiss, purring deep in his throat, “sit on my face.”

You wrestled down a choked whine, which Sam swallowed. Every movement of his mouth went straight to your pussy, echoing there. Sam must’ve known this, because he kissed you exactly as he would between your thighs, all tongue and sucking lips, unbearably hot in comparison to your untouched cunt. You could almost feel the blazing front of his mouth bearing down on you there, his breath fanning over you and his tongue—god, his fucking tongue—flexing into your clit. You broke away.

Sam’s hands hesitated at the top of your back, then all at once took two whole handfuls of your ass, and pushed up with his hips to open your thighs for him. You let slip a helpless moan. His hands were warm and calloused and everywhere, except for the precise place you needed him most. But above all else, Sam was a selfless, loving man, so immediately he was moving to drag down your panties.

“Please,” he choked. “Please, ____, please, I can—I can do it for you—lemme do it for you, baby. Let me take care a’ you.”

“Sam.”

You pressed both palms flat to Sam’s chest in an order. Sam immediately stopped, though he did not look pleased about it. You took a breath to realize the pussy-eating fiend you were soon to have all to yourself, then stepped back to your initial focus. “You’ll have to wait. Want you first, pretty boy. Have you ever even done that before?”

Sam shook his head, sending his bangs fluttering around his face. He pouted. His hands coasted along your arms, dragging you down and into him still.

Bleeding with earnestness, he husked, “No. But I’ll learn for you. I’ll practice on you over and over again, til’ I’m better than anybody you’ve ever had that way. S’ all I want.”

You bit your lip and, god, was it impossible to say no to him.

“I'm all yours, Sammy. Whatever you need, you know I'll give it to you. But we’re gonna do this first, okay?”

You wanted his first time to be good, better than good, all because of you. You wanted to be his second time. His third time too, and every time after that. And if that didn't work out, then you hoped that every time he got a blowjob in the future, it was a good one. Even if it’d be downright pitiful in comparison to the way you were gonna suck his brains out now.

You reached between you and gave Sam's strained cock a generous squeeze.

Sam lost it. “Please, you, please please—” he all but sobbed. His hips rolled up and his knees snapped apart, making room for you, inviting you in, hands making marks on your arm in his scramble for touch. “Please. I-I need it, I need—I need you, god, I want to feel—”

You hung back, absorbing the result of your work. You’d barely touched him and Sam was already out of his mind. He'd had orgasms before—you’d heard him reaching them through the wall in the shower, and his desperate choking breaths were so hot that you had touched yourself right outside the door—but as good as they'd sounded, you were determined to blow them out of the race.

Sam started for his fly, which was your cue to step in. You waved his hands away, guiding them to his stomach, where they fisted in his shirt and drew it up over his sculpted naval. You shushed and soothed, “Sam, Sammy—s’okay, you're okay. I'll take care of you, alright? I'll start right now,” you peppered kisses on his face, bent beside him on your knees. “We gotta get the seat back. Help me?”

You pushed the Impala’s bench back as far as it could go, and you made sure to lay the backrest down a few more inches, too, so Sam could relax and you had a good angle on his face. He was equally considerate and folded up a blanket for you to sit on in the footwell. As soon as Sam sat up, you evaporated into his lap. You expected him to go shy on you again, but this time Sam helped you settle there, clenching his teeth and dragging his eyes up your figure. You stood still for the examination, and the longer it went on the warmer your flaming skin got. Both of Sam’s unreasonably big hands landed on your waist at the same time, and for a moment your roles reversed, Sam’s eyes smoky and heavy-lidded as he devoured the sight of you. You felt yourself throb pathetically in your panties. You were probably the first girl Sam had ever seen intimately; and, in true Sam fashion, he consumed the new sight, cataloging and learning things. A tiny whine slipped out of you when his fingers dug into your thighs, then again when Sam’s thumb brushed under the band of your bra.

“I'm all yours,” you reminded with a smile you hoped was confident. If it was, it was ruined by you shyly and awkwardly reaching for the clasp of your bra. “Whatever you want, Sam, I can do.”

He gazed up at you through his bangs, expression bleeding with love and boyish frankness. “What do you want?”

“To make you happy,” you answered, without question. “To make this night good for you, even if it's the only night we'll have.”

Sam shook his head, absent-minded. A slow, clever, panty-dropping smile developed on his face, something that was clearly common in the men of his family.

“You said that most guys you're with, like this…” he thought aloud. Sam brought you close to him, and when your shadow fell across him and you were nose to nose, he slid two warm fingers up your back and click—he was pulling your brassiere off your shoulders. “You said that most of them can't find a way around a bra, nevermind you,” he observed. “We're going to need more nights if I'm going to prove to you that I'm different.”

“Sam,” you whispered, “you were always different from them.”

You pushed him back against the seat, aligning his spine with it, and as soon as Sam hung his arms over his head you were kissing him wet and deep, both of your hands sliding and groping along the firm muscle of his raised biceps. Now only a flimsy tee stood between them, and you were as rude with it as you were with anything else keeping you from Sam. The long, muscular frame you’d been fantasizing about for years was exposed to you now, and you wasted no time getting acquainted with it. Only recently had Sam started to linger in wet t-shirts in front of you or guide your hands under his shirt as you cuddled—for longer, you’d had no clue what he looked like under his clothes. Dean got all the credit for being John's perfect hunter, but Sam had the perfect hunter's body, barrel-chested huge and wood-shattering strong.

You sunk onto your hands and knees, palming him, groping him, caressing him, outlining the lines of his muscles and his ribs with your fingers. Nobody could resist the temptation to kiss him all over, and in all fairness, you had promised. You dragged your mouth down Sam's chest, kissing the center seam of his body to his happy trail. You almost lost yourself pleasuring him this way; at the sound of Sam's deep breathing, you endured, hovering over your prize instead. You knew you must've looked beyond turned on: your dark eyes were wild, dilated and glittering with want, your panties were soaked through and your lip was almost bleeding you were biting it so hard.

“Fuck,” you cursed, settled back on Sam's thighs, “I've wanted to blow you stupid for years, Sam… it didn't matter what you looked like underneath here or not… but fuck, I feel like a schoolgirl, drooling over all these muscles. You used to be so lanky.”

“Hard to be healthy on the road,” Sam flushed. “We're fighting monsters every day, it’d be stupid to die to a heart condition…or… something.”

“Yeah,” you groaned before you could contain yourself, “but you're sure not making this crush I have on you any easier.”

Sam whispered, sounding coy as he plucked the waistband of your panties. There was that dimply smile again. “You got a crush on me, pretty girl?”

The next words poured out of you as sensually and devoutly as you felt them: “Yeah,” slow, you dismounted his thighs, folded your legs in between Sam's, and finally, finally, sunk on your shins into the footwell. “You wanna see what I do for the men I crush on, baby?”

“So bad. So damn bad,” Sam begged, and it was surreal to finally see what he looked like from this angle, since you’d been dreaming of it for so long. His head lolled back and all you could see of him was the sexy column of his throat and all the soft red lines you’d put in his skin there, just bright enough to see. His chin lowered so Sam could look at you, and sweet lord—there were those fawn brown eyes, drowning in the darkness and the black of his lashes. They boiled over with devotion and willingness and thirst, teased for far too long now. You almost felt bad enough to cut him some slack. But now you were here, with Sam's cock just inches from where it should be, and you couldn't just start going easy on him.

You did exactly what you said you would, so Sam knew what was coming. As promised, you hunkered down on the blanket Sam had folded, letting your knees settle comfortably on the floor. Then you started in on him. You played your nails across his legs, stroking the sides of his thighs, feeling how his pants clung to his skin. On his lap, it was impossible not to fantasize about Sam sitting you on one of his legs and inviting you to rut across his solid, powerful jean-clad thigh. It took a lot to make you feel tiny—but Sam did just that. Crouched down at his feet like this, Sam only seemed bigger and his body better built than usual. You pressed your cheek against his inner thigh and just basked in him.

Sam writhed having you so close to the source of his suffering. “Please,” he sighed below his breath.

“Please what?” You grinned, wolfish.

You turned inwards and kissed the inner seam of Sam's jeans, right on the denim path to his aching cock. Just inches from your face, angled down Sam's pantleg, was a heavy, massive tent more than the width of both your hands put together. Fuck, it'd been even longer since your last good blowjob than you’d thought it'd been. Just seeing the outline made your cunt pulse. Pressing your kiss-swollen lips to the denim above the head bolted molten hot desire straight to your core, and for Sam it was no less extreme, his hands curling into fists on his chest.

His eyes squeezed shut, and the little hoarse squeak that left him made you forget your gag reflex entirely. Sam moaned, “Please please please put me in your mouth—____, p-please.”

“I think you're a little ahead of me, Sammy…”

Your voice dripped with liquid sex. You steadied your hands on Sam's knees and bent forward again, nuzzling his cock with your nose and cheeks, glittering obsidian eyes devouring Sam's softest reactions. He was sensitive—even more sensitive than you’d been hoping for. Just the tiniest lick through scratchy fabric had his toes curling. Again, your nails scraped down his thighs. This time you leaned forward as the gesture drew back, bringing you up to Sam's happy trail. And man, happy it was–it was the centerpiece for miles of twitching, gleaming, sweaty muscle, soft-blended abs, hard-cut v-lines and all.

“Let's start by getting these tight, constricting pants off your first.” you smirked. “How does that sound? You must be uncomfortable, Sammy.”

He was, to the point that just the thought of getting them off had his hips arching toward you on the seat. Pitifully, Sam pleaded, “____. C'mon. Anything.”

“S’okay…” you whispered. You kissed the button of his jeans. “I'll get it off and you'll feel so good, darlin…”

Sam watched you from over his heaving chest, so hard that he was delirious, quavering miserably when your touch disappeared. His soft desperate gasps reminded you of the noises he made when he had dirty dreams sleeping next to you. The few times it'd happened, you just endured it until you drifted off to fatally horny sleep. But once it'd been your name he was sighing like that. It took every ounce of strength you had not to roll over and jerk him off right there. The scene was so vivid it was painful, and you could easily imagine yourself cuddling up to his back and stroking him sweet and slow half-out of his pajama pants, your cheek to his shoulder. Or even better, crawling under your shared sheets and deepthroating him awake. You wondered if Sam had ever heard the dreams you had of him. Or how many times you’d fucked yourself in the shower, imagining him reaming you into the tile like an animal. You had never dreamt of another man that way, or loved a different one so terribly that it made you reckless.

Sam watched you with wide, long-lashed eyes. Nobody else could look so innocent watching somebody get ready to suck their dick. Every time you glanced past his chest, you expected the perverted revelry you got from your other partners to reveal itself on his face. But, god. Sam. He basked in you, in your touch, arching up to meet your hands and worshipping your with his gaze. Love downpoured from every molecule of him. All his reserve had shredded away, taking any reason he had to hide right along with it. I love you I love you I love you, his body wept.

The second you got the fabric corner of his jean-opening in your teeth, Sam’s lips parted, and you remembered all the times you’d tie cherry stems in your mouth to impress him—how many popsicles you’d enjoyed all too slowly and vocally while Sam was watching. It took just one pull of your chin and his fly was off the button. One more and his zipper was in your teeth. You dragged down your head, sultry eyes never leaving his even when you got his fly open, and soaked up the look on Sam's face as he realized the kind of professional he was dealing with.

“...Wow,” Sam gaped. I've hit the jackpot, his wide eyes said.

“Up,” you instructed, and let your grin say the rest. Excitement was burning between your legs now. You tugged on his belt loops until Sam raised his hips, giving you the room to pile them around his ankles.

When you brought your eyes back up, your breath caught. Sam was hard enough to crack steel. You couldn't believe your own luck here. The boy you’d been head over heels for since before you could speak, the man you’d devoted half your life to, and he was so hot for you that he could hardly breathe.

“You don't know how long I've been fantasizing about this.” Your voice was almost too hoarse to hear over the rain, a prayer's voice. You drew yourself between Sam's thighs, and shaking from head to toe with hunger, you spread both palms over his hips and dragged your mouth up Sam's length in his boxers.

Sam had already given himself up to the pleasure. His nails seared into the upholstery, and he moaned, rocketing up, off his back, rocking into you already. The neediness of it burst another tank of heat and love and lust inside you—your Sam, above you, about to be yours, begging so pretty for you… Fuck, heaven would be boring in comparison.

“____, please, baby, please I need it,” he almost sobbed, “I'll do anything anything ____ I ju-just, I just want you. I want your mouth on me I wanna—god, please ____, how good you feel, I want it, please—”

“Anything you want, Sammy, you can have anything,” you soothed, muffled and slurred by your dragging kisses.

“M’ all yours, all yours, all this cock just for you, g-god yeah—your mouth ____ please I need your mouth—”

There was so much drool built up under your tongue that you had to swallow to speak—but you decided against it, saving it for your prize instead. You couldn't wait a second more. You were hooking your fingers in Sam's briefs before you could second-guess, before you could even think to judge if you should unravel Sam a little more—but he was there, bucking for you already, so there was no use waiting. He couldn't even lift his hips before you’d yanked his boxers out of the way. You felt him in your hand and all of it—the length of his cock, the weight of it, the fact that it was Sam, had you sinking into his lap like a priest into a sermon, flesh into the earth, and instantly you threw yourself into the task like you’d never done for any other man. This was for Sam.

You took in just a bit of him at first, enough to introduce him to the hot, velvety heat of your mouth and wet him with a single good suck. Sam's sob cut off with his breath. He was careful to treat you right, even like this. One of his hands had startled into your hair, the pleasure was so much for him. It never did anything more than jolt—he wasn't the type to just shove you on him, anyway. Your smile felt obscene with your lips slick and swollen around him; your tongue gave the lightest lap at the special spot under his tip, and Sam strangled down a filthy, whining mewl. His head was plump and comfortable on your jaw, so you gave it your first dose of attention, loosening your seal around it so you could share your drool with the rest of him. You hollowed your cheeks and brought him a little further into your mouth, shattering what remained of Sam's strength. He sunk back against the seat, exhausted, and watched you bracingly from above, sucking down breaths. Already, there was enough spit on him to make Sam's cock gleam like your lips. It clung to your chin and the tip of your nose in shining patches. Sam ran a hand through his hair and lazily studied you as you sucked him off, falling further in love with you by the second.

“That's it,” Sam cooed. He sounded broken and thready, but he insisted on curling your hair around his fingers, dizzy. “So good, ____—suck it, just like that, please, baby, j-just… ohh, fuckkk…”

Suck it, he'd said. You did as told. The command vibrated through your whole overshot body, and your throbbing, weeping cunt only felt emptier hearing the order. Sam filled up your mouth so well that your cheeks were puffy. He was the perfect size for you—a damn perfect masterpiece. His girth sat thick in your hands, veiny in ways that you wanted to feel with your pussy. Oral had always been enough before, but already you wanted Sam more than air, and more than that, wanted to blow him so good that he'd reward you for it. You tested out a few lower bobs, his cock slick and sticky between your fingers now, and every time you suckled on him Sam squeezed his eyes shut all pretty. The rain was dying out, so the liquid noise your lips made on him filled every crevice of the Impala louder than before. The pop of you slipping off his cock almost echoed.

“Tell me what you want,” you coached, your voice just as broken and hushed as Sam's. You couldn't even part from him that long, and dipped again to whorl your tongue around Sam's heavy tip. “Whatever you need, Sam,” you punctuated the reminder with a long, flat drag of your tongue from his base to the special spot under his tip, and beamed; Sam yelped. “I love it… I love,” you swallowed, “I love doing this for you.”

Sam worked his fingers into your untamed hair, and you did fucking love it. On the floor your knees were aching, but it and everything else was numb to the rolling glide of cock slotting into your mouth, of Sam reveling in your lips and tongue on him, watching you give it all just because he asked.

Sam’s knuckles caressed your cheekbone. “Wrap your lips around the head. Tight.”

You listened. He was more than comfortable on your jaw now, so your lips molded nicely to him, sealing and hollowing so he was even more snug in his new favorite place.

“Good girl,” Sam groaned, probably on instinct, but you stroked him faster for the praise, so he repeated it until his mind was muddy. “Lick the part unde—oh very, very good girl… I wish you could see yourself… I-I want…” he hissed in delight, “you look so pretty, ____… so pretty with my cock in your mouth, god…”

Holy shit. You had never really paid attention to that kind of talk before during sex, busied with the task at hand, but there was something euphoric about the way he said it to you now, your shy Sam, your Sam, his voice raspy, his pink mouth panting and open, his hands all over you, talking to you like he’d always wanted to say that. Your cunt ached.

With a deadly rumble spilling up from your chest, you slipped off his head and laved your gluttonous mouth down Sam’s soaking shaft, kissing, tonguing and sucking at whatever flesh you could find.

“Keep talking like that,” you begged into his base, breathless.

Sam listened. He cupped the sweat-slick nape of your neck, his hand easily broad enough to cover your back blade to blade, and in a messy, groping haze, dragged it up against your cheek. “Never seen you like this,” he purred, “eyes… all dark and… hot… lookin’ up at me… you’re so tiny between my legs like that.”

You couldn’t have restrained yourself if you tried. A weak whine seeped out of you. Sam’s thumb pushed into your cheek and you turned, lapping at it, then covering his hand with one of your own and searing kisses all over his palm. It was heavy and perfect for smudging your nose into. You sunk two open-mouthed kisses into Sam’s wrist where his bracelet was, then up his forearm, knowing only his body and how it could connect to your mouth. His pulse thudded furiously. Just as fast as you’d nuzzled up to him, you returned to Sam’s thick thumb, sucking it deep and right as he watched in rapture. The filthy delight written all over those mesmerized eyes had you praying to him.

“Wanna do this all the time,” Sam swallowed. He was all stream-of-consciousness now, too frenzied to filter himself. “Watch you suck me off… watch those perfect lips disappear around me, _____… y-you… oh, god, you are a natural, baby…”

His other hand, again, flushed your hair away from her forehead. All the love put into your face at once rooted you to the spot. It was miraculous, how special Sam could make you feel with just a few light touches. Bleeding with tenderness, he caressed your shoulders, your cheeks, your jaw, your hair, feasting on you as you had him.

Sam pushed the meat of his thumb into your swollen lip. “Open for me. Yeah… oh, yeah, let me watch you put it in…”

Your lips parted, mostly out of shock—when had Sam started thinking like this? A deeper part of your mind registered it all as innocent teasing, since Sam could never hurt or demean you; he was the basest definition of good to you. Regardless, you were more than willing to obey, and opened wide, tongue splayed for the heavy head of Sam’s dick. The extra kick of his pre-come had your toes curling every single time. But combined with Sam’s ruddy-cheeked, enraptured staring, just one touch to your clit would bring you over the edge. You forced your knees apart on the floor and held off. Just in case Sam intended to keep his promise.

The easiest way to put Sam’s dick into words was by comparing it to a warm, solid lollipop that took up your whole mouth, like the twisty kind from the carnival that eclipsed your whole face, chin to forehead. You’d been mourning Sam’s scrawniness after his four years away at college, but now you were nothing but grateful for the extra mass. Sam was really, really big. Bigger than anyone else you’d been with. He could’ve been any size and you would’ve been just as rabid for him, but there was something specifically hot about sucking him down as far as you could and failing to hit the bottom. It took effort to get there. You lazily pumped what you had left of his shaft, and in slow, deliberate surges of your spit-wet mouth, you earned an inch, then another.

Sam moaned so gutturally you felt it rumble under your palms. It was so Sam, in that it was like any sound you’d ever heard him make, sighing at a stupid joke, snarling during a fight, but this time it was him losing it because you were giving him a blowjob. Because you’d snuck away like idiot teenagers and you were blowing him good and filthy in Baby’s front seat.

“I-I thought about you all day,” he licked his lips, “all week, like this… it’s, you are so much better than I thought… m’ gonna make you cum so good for me.”

You wished that he could feel the way your cunt had fluttered at that. All you could do in answer was hum in approval, since you were so drunk off him, off the girth pressing against the start of your throat, that you couldn't even lift your head to speak. You did the opposite, pushing down and surging Sam's length in deeper and further than you’d gone before. The half-hour you’d poured into warming up for this was instantly worth it. You were by no means an amateur. Blowjobs, as a sexual activity, were with ease your favorite—but deepthroating was where your real talent lay. Wielding your skill, you relaxed your sore jaw and pressed forward.

The initial burn waited for you there, but Sam’s reaction was priceless.

Every muscle in his body snapped in, a taut coil broken in one motion. A strangled gasp broke from his throat. Sam's entire torso bore forward and his hips surged up to your face in a voiceless gasp, which you’d been expecting. You pinned them back down and dug for it, giving him no room to breathe, mashing your nose into his abs and hanging there, lingering, suckling, gagging, so all Sam could feel was the soft, hot, velvet pulse of your throat around his spent cock.

“I’m. I-I—”

You sucked harder, bringing a wave of spit with you, and closed a hand around Sam’s closest fist. Drool seeped over your knuckles. He spasmed. His voice tore, cutting off.

It was a little hard, but with practice—and you could practice on Sam for days, if that’s what it took—the ache would fade. All the pleasure was in the act itself, in your own slobbering sounds, the drool, and above all else the punch-to-the-teeth thrill it gave. Every inch of Sam’s pretty virgin dick was stuffing your throat. You could barely hollow your cheeks around him, Sam was so thick. His cock pulsed, once, then twice, then over and over. No other person in the world could claim him like you could, and no other person would ever have him like you had.

Sam came, and hard.

His thighs snapped closed around your ribs. He hung in place bent up over you, twitching mid-sob. Both of his hands snapped around your head, then his arms in full, scrabbling across your back, crazed, heaving, coating you entirely in the woody smell of him.

You flattened your palms to his thighs and drew upward. When it was just half his shaft in your mouth, so coated in saliva that you were connected to it in cloying strings, you persisted. The first spurt of him on your tongue detonated a ruthless orgasm deep within you on the spot. You latched onto him as it crested through you, digging your nails into Sam’s rolling hips, back and toes curled, pressing closer and swallowing the mouth-watering load you’d been dying to taste for years now. It came with its own gratified explosion of ecstasy. Your pussy sobbed, clenching without end, wracking your whole body with delicious waves of mind-whiting pleasure. The taste of him conquered you—fuck, he tasted perfect, salty and organic and human and Sam. It was a sugar rush of earthy sweetness that burned straight to your overwrought core.

You could’ve unburied yourself and let Sam finish anywhere, since he was already so mindless underneath your spell that anything would’ve pleased him. But there was something potent and intimate in being able to taste him. His body—every divine inch of it was yours, and a piece of him was filling an empty place in you.

You should’ve guessed by the size of him alone, but christ, Sam came whole glassfuls. His cum bubbled up into your mouth and spilled out of the corners of your lips, and you relished in it, drinking him down, whorling your tongue around his fleshy head, soaking up every second of your hard work’s result. The taste of him overwhelmed and surrounded you. The act did. It was in every facet a religious experience, angels singing, clouds parting, the sun glowing over them—all of it. Sam went down your throat piping hot, and you swore you could feel his cum gliding all the way to your stomach.

You slipped off him with a gasp. Hoarse, weak sighs huffed from your blazing lungs.

Slowly, as your orgasm ebbed further from your mind, your surroundings filtered back in. Peeling yourself away from him effectively rebooted all the systems in your body again. You could hear the rain bearing down on the Impala’s windshield overhead. Both of your palms were sticky and cloying with saliva. The whole lower half of your face, your abused lips, your aching jaw, your glistening cheeks, were slathered with slick. Your throat felt raw but recently balmed, like you’d swallowed a spoonful of honey to heal a soreness. Each of your knees had been stuck in place for so long that they were both numb, so the scratchy blanket beneath them seemed to ripple with pins and needles.

And Sam. Sam’s weight was braced in his hands, pressed flat to the dash, putting your face between the long bridge-arch of his shoulders. He’d collapsed around you in the footwell, shuddering and gasping for breath, and through the sea of endorphins and hormones, he managed to press his tacky forehead to yours.

You panted together; you inhaled and so did he, atoms apart, nearly mouth to mouth. Sam’s hot breath fanned across your face, cooling the saliva there.

It was something out of some old Italian sculpture, a Pietà, two nude figures entwined, expressing their love in form alone. You were collapsed on your knees, a worshipper gazing up at your saint. Sam was bent over you almost uncomfortably, every fiber of his body yearning for closeness, but close wasn’t close enough to you, his face smushed into yours and his jaw slack.

He looked nothing short of lovesick.

Hands shaking, you cupped Sam’s face. You pressed your thumbs into his warm, flushed cheekbones, then his dimples when he smiled dizzily at you, his girl.

You swallowed. “Did you like that?” You closed her eyes, hoping aloud, “...Did I… did I do a good job for you, Sammy?”

Sam surprised you. The haziness in his eyes cleared more and more with each inhale, until eventually, he was blinking down at you without guile. He burst out laughing.

“...There’s no way it was that bad,” you deadpanned. It didn’t hold for long, with him giggling over you like that. You fought against a mean, vibrant smile and its matching flush. “Alright, Sam, shut up! Quit laughing, you ass! What the hell did I—”

With the seat pushed back as far as it was, Sam had the room to get his hands under your arms again and drag you up onto his lap in one sturdy motion. Your shoulders quaked with laughter the whole time. Suddenly, his face and chest and throat were flush with yours. It was enough to drive a person crazy. Like before, Sam slotted your mouths together. The difference this time was that his cum was all over your face—but Sam could care less. You went from kissing him to gaping, since Sam dotted each filthy lick of your tongues with a heavy lap across your cheek or your chin. Tasting himself. On you. Fucking hell.

“Stop gawking n’ kiss me,” Sam insisted. He pawed at your back for emphasis, then your shoulders from below, adjusting your weight on his thighs since in your shock you’d dropped on him completely.

(And that was definitely a hard-on scooping against your inner thigh. Fucking fuck. Jesus Christ. Holy shit, Sam.)

“You were better n’ good,” he shivered. Filthily and innocently all at once, he grinned, “...I can’t believe… that was how my first time went. I can’t believe you… You, you just…”

He struggled for words. Eventually, Sam purred: “You are a natural.”

I love you, you almost blurted. You deliberately filled your lungs to calm yourself down. Your arms were around Sam’s neck and he was gazing up at you, brimming with satisfaction and gratitude and boundless, unhidden love. Dangerous territory. His taste had sunk thick and sweet on your tongue, so you both moan when you share it with him in a surging kiss.

“Anytime,” you rasped, maybe sounding a bit desperate. You were. Sam was everything you wanted in a thousand different ways, so you refused to let the moment go. In the black darkness, you laid kisses into him until your lips tingled. “I fucking—ugh. That was perfect. You were perfect. If… if you ever want me like that again—”

“I do,” was Sam’s immediate, unflinching answer. “But… I have a condition.”

He swallowed. At first, you figured he was nervous, and knowing it was his first time you doubted he wasn’t. But then Sam’s eyes flashed. Both of his enormous hands smoothed down your waist, kneading the flesh, squeezing you around the sides so his thumbs were in your belly, then his fingers were sliding flat to your hip and down. They plucked under the waistband of your underwear—the last and only layer between you.

“Every time you go down on me,” his hungry, sultry gaze devoured yours, “I get to practice on you, too.”

-

part two.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #uncouthspn #supernatural #spn #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine

[til-f]

Episode 4 thoughts (spoilers)

This was by far my favorite episode.

the bonding scene on the train was refreshing. Like, we needed that.

In general I like the dream sequences. I like tiny percy. The beginning swim lesson bit with percy and sally I didn't like as much, mostly because *surprise* I like that Percy Jackson is the son of Poseidon, and I thought it was annoying that they added that scene without us witnessing some tiny percy powers. But that's just me.

I miss the poodle scene. "I said hello to the poodle."

I wish so badly that percy was the subject of the nation wide man-hunt. Like, that was one of the reasons why this quest is AWESOME. Plus, it brings nasty gabe back to the picture. I have a feeling that they aren't going to kill him in the show. Probably sally will just leave him. Wah

I liked when they ran from the train. Like yeah, they're freaking demigods. They're gonna look a little odd most of the time.

I liked echidna. I liked her and the chimera. I get tired of the long ass monologues by the villains. Like, just fight already. Or give me some action. there's so much cool stuff to add from the book that I literally don't care about echidna except for the fact that she calls her chimera "sonny" and also that she tells percy to "prove his bloodline" as he dangles from the arch, laughing at him because he doesn't believe Poseidon will save him.

I liked how Annabeth started talking about architecture. Changing the plot so that the arch was a temple that monsters couldn't enter, and she pissed off athena by mailing the gorgon head... like, that did nothing for me. but okay.

I liked the bit about the centaurs being a metaphor for the plains' buffalo, and the emphasis on the plains tribes. South Dakota is my home and out here we stan.

I liked how percy tricked them and made them go down the elevator. that's some good percy vibes right there. props to the team, lol.

The fight scene with the chimera was lame, but at this point, who's surprised. Also, I literally cannot deal with how lame they made riptide. LIKE SERIOUSLY. THIS WILL BUG ME TILL THE END OF TIME. GIVE HIM A REAL FUCKING SWORD. IT LOOKS SO STUPID. sigh. okay.

The scene of percy falling from the arch was dope.

The scene in the mississippi was cool (so far). I really want the bit where he takes the old wet plastic wraps and lights them on fire. But I doubt it will happen considering that in the previews for next week, I see annabeth hugging a very wet percy. Sigh.

I want percy powers. give them to me! I feel like the writers are somewhat undermining percy as the main character and it's driving me a little nuts. I looooovveeeeedddd leah's performance (all of them) in this episode, but there really are a lot of bits where it doesn't feel like percy is this singular threat, who stole the fucking lightning bolt. THEY HAVEN'T EVEN MENTIONED THE LIGHTNING BOLT AGAIN. the gods think he's a fucking thief, and there's a whole ass mystery to solve . whatever.

Simply saying that percy is the "forbidden child" doesn't make it so, when all the monsters are so fixated on annabeth, or literally ANYTHING but the quest. it's kinda weird.

#percy jackson #pjo show #pjo adaptation #percy fucking jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #meta

[redheadspark]

I am LOVING these prompts! Do you think you could do Druig with 9? The one where reader is reading and Druig’s being a clingy watcher?

A/N - Druig would definitely do this! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Passage

Summary - After the Emergence, you and Druig have a moment to pause and have peace.

Warnings - Just fluff :)

It started with a simple bit of movement on the couch, you staying still as you flipped to another page.  Then it was the feeling of a shadow right behind you, yet you remained calm and read the passage in front of you.  Of course you knew this game far too well, it’s happened so many times you lost count.  Especially since it started long before technology had started. 

Centuries ago this started, and it hasn’t really lost its fire.

Finally, you felt arms wrapped around you from behind and a neck tucked on top of your shoulder.  You hummed, feeling those hands before on your lower waist with the right amount of pressure, the softness of the brown hair against your neck and ear, and the scent that he carried after being out in the sun for far too long.

“Whatcha readin’, lover?” You heard in your ear.

Druig.

“A book I found in Makkari’s personal treasure trove on the Domo,” You hummed as your eyes were still moving and following along, “This one is called Treasure Island, a pirate adventure,” 

“Ah, sounds like somethin’ you’d like,” He replied as he too was reading some of the words there, “Never took Makkari as one to like pirates.  Then again they stole gold.”

“Oh, and Makkari steals gold like a pirate?” You asked as you paused in your reading, looking over your shoulder barely to see Druig’s eyes on your thanks to your peripheral vision.  He said nothing but smirk as you clicked your tongue, “Fine, I’ll go tell her!”

“No!” Druig said suddenly, keeping you close on the couch as you were about to get up.  You laughed as he peppered kisses along your cheeks and neck to keep you in one place.  The mood was a bit lighter then in that moment, given the last few days and all that you had to deal with together.  Once you both were done laughter and simply holding each other, you looked around the room that you were in, sighing in both remorse and regret.

Ajak’s living room at her farmhouse.  

It’s been two days since the near Emergence, you all came to the Farmhouse to unwind and lay low since the news all over the world was talking about the marble being that was frozen in the ocean.  Sersi, Kingo and Sprite were already back in London, going back to reality themselves as the rest of you went to South Dakota.  There was no real mindset on what the future was going to hold, Thena wanted to hold a meeting later that day to see what we should do next.  Sersi was our new leader, yet she was waiting to go back to London to talk to Damon and perhaps but every that happened behind her.  You would have too, yet you and Druig were still deciding on what to do.

“I miss her,” You said as you drank in the small living room you two were in.  It all was Ajak, the paintings and decor on her walls, the rug along the worn floor, even the slightly peeling wallpaper against the wall. It had charm and life in its bones and walls, just like how Ajak was when she was alive.

“Me too,” Druig murmured as he took was looking at the walls and then out the windows, “She meant well with all of is….and with me,”

“Druig,” You said his name, “We talked about this.  You know she loved you, beyond loved you.  What happened is in the past, and all we can do is move forward,”

Druig was heartbroken when he heard about Ajak’s death through Sersi.  He kept it to himself while the Eternals were visiting your home in the Amazon.  Yet when the fight was done, and after you had the service for Gilgamesh, Druig finally collapsed in your arms as you two slept in your little shack. He mourned for not being able to talk to her again.  He mourned for not telling Ajak he was wrong in how he blew up against her.

He mourned for never apologizing.

“We did stop the world from ending, and I think Ajak would have been proud of us,” You explained as he was still searching your eyes to see that you were telling the truth.  You moved his brown hair from his eyes, tracing his nose slightly with the tip of your finger.

“Proud of me goin’ against Arishem even?” Druig had to ask, speaking about the very Celestial whom he butted his head against ever since you all came to Earth.

“No, Druig.  Proud of you protecting humans, the same species we were sworn to protect since we came here to this planet,” You answered him.  Druig finally gave a smaller smile and leaned into you to hug you.  You hugged him back, kissing the top of his head as you rubbed his arms, “Ajak would be proud of you and how far you have come, Druig.”

“Aye, the same for you, M’Lady,” he said your nickname with you as he hooked his chin on your shoulder again, “Now, read to me some of this pirate book that you think is amazin’.”

You opened the book again, finding the page where you left off and started to read aloud.  Druig hung onto your every word as the South Dakota wind was picking up outside the farmhouse. Now that the world as not going to end and life can move on and grow, you were optimistic about the future that you were going to have with Druig.

You both were going to find your peace again, one day at a time.  

The End.

June Summer Prompts

#druig x female reader #druig x female reader #druig x you #druig x reader #druig x oc #druig x female eternal reader #druig x y/n #fanfiction #writing #barry keoghan #druig #eternals #marvel cinematic universe #mcu writing #mcu fanfiction #mcu phase 4 #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #mcu

[justthatwwegirl]

Liv morgan x female reader

(I knoe I said I was gonna write a hook fic, I'm sorry but I'll try to writw one later.)

Liv was so smitten. Like REALLY smitten.

That's what Dakota said though. She knew Dakota was right, she was smitten.

The girl Liv was so smitten with? None other than Y/N Reigns. Yes, the famous sister of Roman Reigns. Former NXT women's champion who just got called up to smackdown. Liv had been friends with Y/N before Y/N's callup to the main roster and both still continue to thrive in their friendship. Although, Liv wishes they were more...

Currently, Liv and Dakota were having a conversation about the match card for smackdown. While Dakota was discussing her match, Liv noticed something in the corner of her eye. She turned around to see Y/N talking to Isla dawn. Liv couldn't help but feel jealous, but she also noticed that Y/N didn't look good. 

"I swear- if you don't confess to her," Dakota says. "I will, I will! I promise." Liv states. "But do you notice anything odd?" Liv continues concerned.

"Other than you being jealous, Y/N doesn't look to good right now." Dakota expresses. Y/N was always grumpy. She never really smiled and she was usually quiet. Liv was quite the opposite. She was always optimistic, always smiling, she was literally a ray of sunshine. You know what they say, opposite attract. 

"After they're done with their conversation, I'm going to check up on Y/N." Liv tells Dakota. Dakota nods before asking Liv, "Doesn't she have a N1C match for the smackdown women's championship? Which, you are the smackdown women's champion." Dakota says. 

Liv looks back at Y/N for a second before looking back at Dakota. "I hope she wins." Liv says quietly. Dakota smirks before telling Liv, "Isla is done talking to your girl." Liv looks back to see Y/N rubbing her face. 

"Bye." Liv says to Dakota before speed walking towards Y/N. "Go get your girl!" Dakota says. 

"Hey." Y/N says groggy, continuing to rub her face. Liv smiles. Anything this woman can do will make Liv smile.

"Hey, you good?" Liv asks concerned. Y/N nods her head. Liv knows she's lying, but she doesn't wanna piss her off. "I see you didn't straighten your hair today." Liv comments. 

"Yea, I just didn't feel like straightening my hair today." Y/N motions to her hair. Liv smiles again before telling Y/N, "You know, I like when you don't straighten your hair. Good luck on your match." Liv walks away before stopping and turning back around.

"Hey, do you wanna go get some coffee tomorrow?" Liv asks, clasping her hands together. Y/N looks down at the ground before looking back up at Liv. "Yeah, why not? I don't have anything planned." Y/N answers. Liv can almost see a grin appear on her face.

After the show, Liv and Dakota are walking towards their rental car, talking and having fun. Soon they enter the car, and Dakota starts driving towards the nearest hotel. Liv nervously bites her finger nails while thinking about something.

"Spill." Dakota tells Liv. Liv sighs before telling Dakota. "I asked Y/N if she wanted to get some coffee. Spoiler, she said yes, and now I am scared."

Dakota's eyes widen before saying, "That's not what I expected... But okay." Liv bites her lip. What was she going to do? Literally standing next to Y/N, made her nervous. But god, everything about Y/N made Liv want to crumble to the floor and worship the ground she walked on.

Dakota and Liv arrive at the hotel and get their room keys. While they're about to enter the room, Liv sees Y/N slouched down in the hallway.

Liv, immediately runs towards Y/N. "Y/N are you okay?" Liv asks concerned. Dakota shortly arrived after.  Y/N just shakes her head before rubbing her face.

Liv can see the tears forming in her eyes. She has never seen Y/N cry. "You can stay in Liv's room." Dakota suggests. "Can I?" Y/N asks, turning towards Liv. "Of course!" Liv answers quickly.

Y/N struggles to stand up on her own. Liv notices this and carries her, bridal style. Dakota notices a blush appear on both Y/N and Liv. "Alright, don't have to much fun lovebirds." Dakota says before walking away towards her room.

Liv says bye to Dakota and enters the room with Y/N in her arms.

Y/N slowly wakes up to see Liv making 2 cups of coffee. Y/N emerges from the bed and walks towards the kitchen.

"Good morning! I made us some coffee." Liv tells Y/N in such a cheerful tone. Y/N never really liked cheerful people, they just showed to much optimism and it wasn't really Y/N's thing. But with Liv, it was different.

Y/N loved how cheerful she was. She loved how Liv would always smile and show so much optimism. She just loved Liv.

"Thank you."  Y/N says quietly before drinking some of the coffee.

Liv looks done at the floor before putting her coffee. "I do have tell you something though." Liv says quietly.

Y/N puts her coffee down and chuckles. "What are you going to tell me? That your in love with me." Y/N says sarcastically. Liv is shocked. She know Y/N meant it as sarcasm but she was actually right. "About that.." Liv says, trying to be calm.

"Wait- what?" Y/N asks, turning around. "I was joking!." Y/N exclaims. "I know I'm sorry! I know you don't like me back, but-" Liv explains. Yea I don't like you. "Why would I like you? Cause I don't like you. I love you, and not in a friendly way." Y/N explains in a straight but smiling a little at the end.

Liv's jaw drops. She was so confused.  She was happy, but she didn't think Y/N would like her back. Well, love her, in Y/N's words. "How are you just so, chill about this?" Liv asks shaking her head. Y/N was always calm, but this? How?

Y/N shrugs her shoulders. "Please this," She motions to her body. "Is all acting. Really, I have been waiting for this moment since I've met you." Y/N explains, walking up towards Liv. "And I'm  also waiting for a kiss." Y/N says, parting her lips.

"Oh really?" Liv asks, laughing a bit. "Really." Y/N says before bringing Liv in for a kiss.

Almost immediately, Liv kisses back. After a few minutes, Liv pulls away smiling. Y/N sneaks in a tiny smile.

"You know," Liv starts, bringing Y/N more closer to her. "I hope your the one who takes my championship." Liv finishes, bringing Y/N in for one final kiss. 

"Extreme rules is almost here and, I got a match with Shayna on smackdown, with you on commentary." Y/N says, finally showing her full smile.

#liv morgan #liv morgan x reader #liv morgan imagine #liv morgan oneshot #wwe imagine #wwe oneshot #smackdown #wwe fanfiction #writing

[sydsaint]

Ahem. Let me just, HEEL SANTOS HEEL SANTOS HEEL SANTOS HEEL SANTOS HEEL-

Thank you.

Summary: The reader returns to Smackdown after 4 months off with an injury. She is welcomed by her LWO friends. But Santos doesn't appear so happy to see her. Especially when he and the reader are hiding a secret that could bring LWO to its knees.

"I'm sorry about the loss on Saturday, too, Rey." You hug your uncle when you greet him backstage at Smackdown.

"Y/N! Gracias, Carino. And how is my favorite niece?" He asks you cheerfully, despite his loss.

You flash a smile and shrug. "I'm alright. Still nursing this dumb shoulder injury." You rub your shoulder with your good hand. "But the doc did say that I should be back to 100% soon." You assure him.

"That's wonderful news." Rey matches your smile. "Are you planning on sticking around tonight for Carlito's match against Bobby Lashley?" He asks you.

"I don't see why not?" You nod. "I haven't seen Zelina in a while. It'll be good to talk to her. And Santos as well."

Rey nods and heads backstage with you. "I'm sure that they'll all be happy to see you." He smiles.

Rey leads you through the backstage area and to the LWO locker room. You step through the door and it's almost like Zelina can sense your presence. You watch her swivel around in her chair next to the vanity and lock eyes with you.

"Y/N!" Zelina jumps to her feet and charges at you, engulfing you in a hug against her small frame when she reaches you.

"Zelina." You hug her with a laugh. "It's good to see you again."

Cruz and Joaquin both smile and wave at you while Zelina is still attempting to smother you with affection. You smile back at them in a friendly manner before your eyes travel further back into the room. Your gaze comes to a stop at Santos sitting in the corner of the room with a stoic expression. His eyes knowingly meet yours before he turns away.

"Are you back for real?" Zelina asks you after she's finally done hugging you. "Does this mean we can finally tag together again?" She eagerly pelts you with questions.

"As fun as that sounds, Zelina. No. Not yet, anyway." You shake your head. "I've still got some shoulder damage to work out. I just wanted to come by and see Tio Rey." You nod to your uncle now talking with Cruz.

Zelina flashes a frown, but quickly recovers and grabs your hand. "Come on! Let's chat while I finish my makeup. I've gotta catch you up on what you've been missing." She insists.

You nod and follow Zelina over to her vanity. You sit down next to her and listen intently as she explains everything that you've missed while you've been out on injury.

As Zelins drones on with her stories, like she often does when she's excited, your gaze wanders across the room again. Santos hasn't moved from his spot since you last looked over in his direction. His gaze picks up and meets yours, only you're the one to look away this time.

"Y/N?" Zelina nudges your arm when you don't answer her. "What's wrong?" She asks when she sees the occupied look on your face.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing." You shake your head and turn to Zelina. "Just thinking is all." You smile.

Zelina nods and goes back to her makeup. You glance at Santos one last time but he doesn't return the glance this time.

A little over an hour later, everyone is getting ready to head out to the ring so Rey can talk about his loss on Saturday. You've been chatting with Zelina about your recovery so you failed to notice that Santos wandered off a while ago.

"Well, I promised Dakota and Iyo that I'd stop by." You explain. "So, I'll be back in a bit, alright?"

"Okay." Zelina nods. "I'll see you in a bit, Y/N." She smiles at you.

You return Zelina's smile and head out of the locker room. You make your way down the hall and toward the women's locker rooms but you don't make it far when an arm reaches out from one of the unoccupied locker rooms and yanks you inside.

"What the fuck?" You curse the air as the door clicks shut behind you. "Santos? What are you doing?" You turn and find Santos ahold of your arm.

"I didn't want anyone to see us talking," Santos replies, his eyes on the door. "But I needed to see you. Alone." He explains.

You close your eyes for a second, knowing what this impromptu kidnapping is all about. Four months ago you were a full-time member of the LWO with your uncle Rey. You and Zelina were a tag team and about to challenge for the titles when you tore the ligament in your shoulder in a match against Shayna Basler and Zoey Starks.

In addition to being in the LWO because of Rey, you also had a secret fling going on with Santos. One that promptly ended when you had to leave because of your shoulder injury. You'd tried to explain to Santos that it couldn't go on. You could never do anything to hurt your uncle. Not after all the Dominik drama. But Santos fought to keep your fling going. And the break hit him hard.

"You look pretty." Santos smiles softly at you. "I've missed you these past four months." He reaches out and touches your arm cautiously.

"Santos." You look him in the eyes. "We can't...this can't happen again." You try and reason with him.

Santos blinks a couple of times at you. "Y/N, mi corzone." He looks at you with pleading eyes. "Please, don't say that. You came back before you needed to! Was it really just to see your tio?" He asks you.

You bite the inside of your lip as you fight with yourself internally about this. "Santos...I...I can't hurt Rey. After Dominik? I'm all he has left." You remind him.

"I love you," Santos replies plainly like he's not confessing to you right now. "And I know what we had wasn't just some fling. It was more than that." He insists. "Are you saying that you feel nothing for me? Because if that's true then please tell me now. Because I can't keep being led on like this."

"Santos, please." You're the one to plead with him this time. "You're asking me to choose between my heart and my family."

Santos looks at you knowingly and he raises a hand to your face. "You're right. I'm sorry, Mi corozone." His hand cups your cheek before he kisses your lips gently.

You close your eyes and savor the sweet sensation of his lips on yours before they suddenly disappear. When you open your eyes again you're alone in the empty locker room.

Later in the night, you are making your way back to the LWO locker room to find Zelins so the two of you can hang out. You pass by a TV monitor just in time to see her out in the ring with the rest of the LWO. But something is wrong. You come to a stop and watch in horror as Santos appears and promptly takes out Rey. Zelina makes a desperate attempt to stop him, but Santos is unrelenting. He beats Rey until the security staff have to pull him off of your uncle.

"Santos." You speak aloud in a shocked and hushed tone. "What did you do? What did I do?"

#wrestling #wwe fandom #wwe fanfiction #wwe #santos escobar #lwo #lantino world order #syd's wrestling fics #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fic #im sorry for the bad spanish #Google translate and my obsession with Alejandro and Rodolfo from COD can only get me so far okay?

[neuroprincess]

I’ve got one for Emily

Emily knows the reader is genderqueer but the team doesn’t, only reason Emily knows is a) she’s unit chief and b) they’re dating. So when the team is on a case, the reader is met with a non-binary teenager being questioned and nobody but Emily and the reader get the teens pronouns correct which leads to the reader getting upset at the team and coming out to the team. Emily is surprised at the timing but is supportive because she already knew about the readers pronouns. Reid and Rossi are confused but Emily, the reader and Tara help explain it to everyone

Thanks!

Hi, darling! Here is, I confess I didn't know much until this request and it became special because when I asked my sibling about they came out as non-binary. My first genderqueer writing too, sorry. So thank you and I hope you like it ^^

I'm proud of you - Emily Prentiss/GenderQueer Reader

Emily Prentiss/GenderQueer Reader

Classification: Light Angst, Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, reader referred to female pronouns before coming out, some characters unaware of what genderqueer is

Word count: +2800

Unrevised

(English is not my first language, so if at any point outside the context of the plot I accidentally used a wrong pronoun, please let me know. Have a good reading!)

Lips frowning, eyebrows together and a pair of startled eyes staring at you, trying their best to avoid the observant look of the man next to you, Rossi sighs and throws himself against the chair, both frustrated with each other. You have just arrived in the room attached to the police station where it was supposed to be a welcoming moment for the victim of an attempted rape and murder, but escalated quickly into an interrogation of sorts when the victim seemed not to pass unharmed by the hawkish eyes of the BAU veteran. After half an hour of a conversation being brought to naught you came to intervene, Tara's recommendation, although the man has a special tact with children you can't say the same thing with youngsters, no matter how hard he tries.

- Dakota, this is Agent Y/L/N, you said the problem is gender, here it is. She is...- before the man can finish he is interrupted by them, the youth slams a hand on the table and stands up in a rage.

- No! No! You don't understand me, it's about me, I just want you to call me like I asked you to. - they walk from one side to the other, before sitting down again in the same place as before, leaning over to put their head between their hands, visibly distressed.

- And you won't tell me why you were with a false document at that party? - Rossi replies, his tone of voice making it clear that he is losing patience.

There is only silence in response. You move slowly, picking up the laminated document on the table and read it carefully, it looks legitimate to the blind eye, but you notice the small differences and imperfections between a real one and a fake one, the date gives them an age they really appear to be, 22, but as you go through the gender identification you notice the difference in this space, instead of the usual and currently usable acronyms it's filled with NB. The weight of the situation falls like an anvil in your stomach; using fake ID has become a common practice for under 21s and teenagers, but this particular detail, unnoticed, almost imperceptible, puts the whole situation into better context. The person in front of you is a genderqueer, and apparently Rossi doesn't understand yet, and if he does, he doesn't respect the way they prefer to be called.

- David. - you call him in a whisper and lick your lips before continuing, thinking about the choice of words, trying to approach this correctly and tactfully so they don't feel embarrassed, or like they are not there - All they are asking is that you use the correct pronoun, Dakota is nervous and may not have expressed themselves in the best way. It's them.

- If Dakota is really her name. - he seems to have ignored everything you said making you sigh and start to get irritated - So, girl, what...

- Dakota might be their social name. - you say quickly before he could get back to firing them with disrespectfully accusatory questions, the youth looks in your direction with an expression of relief that someone has finally understood them and even smiles when hearing the neutral pronoun - And wants you to use their pronoun correctly. And those two factors...

- But she...

- Come, let's go outside for a second. - you turn to them and smile, trying to pass on some reassurance, before closing the door.

You leave the room and go to the next, where part of the team is watching and taking notes. JJ, Reid, Tara and Emily are there, the first two stare a bit confused at what just happened, as is Rossi, still overcome with euphoria at being dealing with the youth, all of whom know that he must be deeply suspicious of them to act in such a way, understandable with the gravity, difficulty and annuities of the ongoing case. Tara is propped against the wall, words on the tip of her tongue, and Emily is closer to the mirrored glass, arms crossed and a small scowl on her face. She knows how frustrating and difficult it is for you to hide your identity on a day-to-day basis, the lack of understanding about and lack of interest in it, what is happening only reinforces what you both already know. When you look at each other she blinks her eyes slowly and drops the arms beside her body, instinctively walking to soothe you with a hug, but she stops halfway remembering where you are and that maybe it's not the right thing to do, even though she knows it's burning you up inside. As chief she has access to your record and since your admission she knows about your gender identity, pronouns, how you prefer to be called and how these situations can really affect you, especially since you tried to explain several times during the "interrogation". When you met you immediately hit it off, at the end of your first month as an agent she asked you to go to a bar, just the two of you, and that night brought you even closer, Emily asked you more about genderqueer, showing real interest and respect. Within a couple of months you started a secret relationship that has been going on for almost three years.

- What is happening? - JJ asks, standing up, facing you and the older agent.

- I don't know, I thought that taking Y/N there would help to get some information, but apparently it didn't work out. - he shrugs and the attention turns back to you.

- Because you were acting like a jerk to them. - on any other occasion you wouldn't be talking like that to a co-worker, much less calling him a jerk, but if it wasn't enough to have a difficult case going on, there is still this whole situation where a youth is having their identity invisibilized when they should be being respected and welcomed by the team members.

- Just because he called her a girl? - JJ replies, genuinely confused she draws her eyebrows together thoughtfully.

- Also, JJ. - Emily interjects, remaining calm contrasting with your growing irritation with your co-workers - It's besides, Dakota is genderqueer, apparently they use neutral pronouns, their preference.

- Isn't this that thing kids have invented now? Neutral pronouns and stuff like that? - Rossi sketches a smile, as if it wasn't something important, which irritates you, but the following words make you lose the rest of your self-control regarding the subject - It's a passing trend, too confusing, just another thing invented by this generation.

- A passing trend?! That's what I am, David! I am genderqueer. And I'm not confused, I'm not a trend, I'm a person with a real identity and I want respect. - you get excited, not even realizing that you have just came out to practically the whole team, and point to the youth on the other side of the glass - Just like this kid.

- Oh... - the realization of what has just happened doesn't sink in until you hear Emily behind you, she doesn't know exactly what to say, too surprised to formulate a decent sentence. You have just come out adruptically in the middle of a case and she really doesn't know how to react, she just wants to hug you and tell that she is proud, but as she looks around she realizes that it's not the best scenario or moment, not yet - Y/N, are you okay? - is the only thing she can ask.

- No, at least not totally.

- What is genderqueer exactly? - Reid asks confused and it makes you smile for a second because he seems really interested, staring at you anxiously for an answer.

- Genderqueer is when someone doesn't identify with the gender binary, that is, neither male nor female. It's a term that covers many different gender identities and gender expressions, such as non-binary, genderfluid, gender neutral, and others. - it's Tara who ends up responding when you delay giving him an answer, still in shock at what has just happened, this is emotionally exhausting and scary, now everyone knows, those who don't know will know soon - Some genderqueer people may prefer to use neutral pronouns, which are "they/them", as Dakota seems to want to be referred to, while others may prefer masculine or feminine pronouns, or even other pronouns they may choose. And some people are fine with any pronoun.

- And how am I supposed to know what to call them? - Rossi is the one who asks now, leaning on the wall.

- Just ask them what their preferred pronoun is and use it correctly. - your girlfriend says, this reminds you of the moment when you approached her and she asked, wanted to know, was interested in who you are.

- Exactly! Don't make assumptions about how a person presents or dresses. They can express themselves in authentic ways and it's important to respect their choices no matter what. Gender identity is a personal experience unique to each individual, it cannot be assumed based on their appearance or behavior. - you complement and are relieved to see that they are looking at you intently, with no judgment in their eyes, they are trying to understand, even David who seemed so reluctant before. - I want you to know that this is important to me because it's who I am. I hope you will respect my identity, just as I respect each of you and who you are.

Reid then says: - I will use your pronouns correctly, now I know and obviously I will do that. - and hugging you awkwardly, continues - Thank you for letting us know, I understand what this means to you.

JJ joins you and Reid then, wrapping you around the waist in a triple hug.

- You know, you could have told us earlier, we're laymen but we're always willing to learn. - she says calmly and strokes your hair, the three of you break away from the hug when Tara approaches, she has a smile on and opens her arms to wrap around you.

- I'm so proud of you. I suspected as much, and I'm glad you're here, free to express yourself. - you didn't want to cut this beautiful moment short by saying that you accidentally and just accepted the warm hug from your co-workers, you can see, behind them, Emily smiling just watching the scene and she blinks in your direction.

- Hey, sorry to interrupt this moment - the sheriff appears in the doorway, with a piece of paper in hand, the youth data sheet that the team had asked Penelope for and she had sent to them - here it is.

You take the sheet with Dakota's data and feel relieved to understand why they had a fake ID, it makes a lot of sense that they had the fake document, and with NB, because Dakota is just a 16 year old teenager. They were nervous about Rossi and his evasive questions because they are in a bad way about being in a late night club. So they were trying to avoid the situation, not wanting Rossi to find out the truth about them and their legal status. Maybe out of fear of their parents or whoever was guardian. You smirked at the whole situation this detail created, Dakota would rather face a trip with all the local police than face punishment for spending the night out in a place they shouldn't be, it reminded you of yourself as a teenager in rebellious moments.

Rossi then approaches you, looks at the paper and at you, interspersing several times. Trying to find words to apologize.

- Sorry for all the questions and for this situation, I think I now understand what is happening. I really sorry for everything, for offending them and you, I will work on that. - he looks at Dakota's data sheet and adds - It seems that they have a lot to explain to parents, don't they?

- Yes, they do. - you agree and look directly at him, smiling - Hey, you used the correct pronoun now.

- Well, I guess I just needed to calm down and learn a little. - David gives you a pat on the back - I'm proud of you too, now get out there and talk to that teen. I'll arrange for her parents, oops, theirs to be here soon.

- Right. - you agree and direct a happy look to the team before closing the door, barely noticing the brunette following you silently, leaving almost unnoticed by them.

But it's not as if they haven't realized for more than a year that you are a couple, even if you never had a formal announcement and your girlfriend believes in her abilities to keep secrets. They saw you making out in the car in the parking lot of a bar after the New Year's celebration. JJ and Tara exchange glances, along with Reid, who doesn't really notice the slight mischief and just smiles pretending to be in the know. Outside, Emily walks briskly before you can reach the other room and practically throws herself at you when she catches up to you, wrapping her arms around you in a hug from behind, arms holding tightly around your waist and lips sneaking up to the back of your neck, depositing a kiss there.

- Hey, baby. I'm proud of you too, very proud. - she squeezes you even tighter in her embrace. - You were so brave and inspiring there, you stood up for Dakota and fought for them. You make me more proud every day. I'm proud of how protective, brave, understanding and kind you are, of everything you are. You are amazing, and I am so lucky that you are by my side. I love you, and I have no doubt that you are the best partner I could ever have.

- I love you too, Emily. - you turning to hug her properly - I never imagined we'd be here, but I'm so happy we've made it this far together. I feel so honored to have you by my side.

- You're so lovely, I'd kiss you right now if I could, but I'm sure if I look up the sheriff is staring at us.

- Fuck him. - you smile, at that moment you approach more and kiss Emily softly, as if for the first time. The kiss is slow but intense, full of feelings and emotion. The seconds go by, the moment doesn't seem to end. When you separate, your eyes meet, and your souls seem to communicate, saying that you will be together always - Now I have to get back to work. You too.

You go your respective ways, you return to that room to talk appropriately with Dakota and Emily to the other room, she ignores the mischievous teasing looks directed at her by the women, just tells them to check out the new leads and talk to Penelope about what she got online. David leaves with them to contact the parents, Reid is sitting in a chair analyzing the teenager, looking for any clues to create a victimology profile. The brunette struts across the room, near the mirror watching you enter and interact with Dakota, they seem to trust you, especially after the whole scene that had happened earlier with the older agent. Emily watches and admires you as she has one hand in the pant pocket, her slender fingers playing with a ring, which she has carried for weeks everywhere. After a very difficult case, the chief found herself in a jewelry store ordering a personalized ring and now all that's needed is to find the perfect moment to propose. She has never been one to plan, it's something she avoided for years, and she knows that the moment will come when she feels, everything will be perfect. Emily smiles at the thought, eager to make you her spouse.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #genderqueer reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #fanfiction #light angst #fluff #genderqueer #transdayofvisibility