#-from my ribs but if it Was my heart I'd never know. and my heart doesn't work properly anyways.

[milla-frenchy]

Ughhhhh I cant' believe it's almost over, I'm gonna miss them dearly ❤️❤️❤️

Joel stayed for three nights. On the fourth night, Lily woke up cold, alone, the absence of his warmth like a missing limb ripped from her some time in the soft, orange morning. Panic seized her gut before she was fully awake, bouncing around, squeezing at her organs like a leech. She blinked manically, squeezing her eyes shut tight, eyelashes going spiky as she tried to clear her vision, as she tried to reach for the bulk of him only to come back empty.

Your writing is so vivid, I almost feel the emotions as if I were lily, how amazing is that? 🤌🤌

Lily tried not to think about it, tried not to think about his note, his silence, tried not to think about Caleb, how he was still out there, some part of him possibly still aware as that fungus ate away at him, forced him to do its bidding.

My god...

It took Joel five hours on horseback, weaving around the grounds outside of Jackson, to find those damn flowers. The idea had burrowed itself into his head last night, as he held a sleeping Lily, gently tracing the big, open flower tattooed on her shoulder. Those lilies, the ones he'd ripped out of the community garden years ago. He needed them back. 

omg he left to find some lilies??? 😍😍😍

Maybe it was a little silly, his sudden need to go get those flowers back, but it felt necessary, felt like some final piece falling into place. He'd ripped those flowers out once, because he couldn't bear the thought of her, couldn't even speak her name without falling apart. And now she was here, and he was trying, trying to be soft for her, gentle for her. If she was back, he needed the flowers back too.

Noooo it's not silly, it's amazing and I love it 😍😍

But before he could, Ellie was bursting, like she'd been holding the words in for just as long as she'd been ignoring him. "I was supposed to die in that hospital," she spat out, driving each word home with a slam of her hand against the top of the railing. "My life would have fucking mattered, but you took that from me." Joel wanted to tell her that her life did matter, mattered to him, mattered to her friends, should matter to her. Joel wanted to tell her that he loved her, but he couldn't, didn't know how. So, he said something else, something just as poignant, just as true, as he pushed himself off the railing to stand up straight and face her. "If somehow the lord gave me a second chance at that moment I would do it all over again." Silence fell between the two of them as Ellie searched his face, then turned to look back out across the yard, toward her house. "Yeah..." she whispered. "I just— I don't think I can ever forgive you for that—" And that stabbed into Joel like a hot knife, a choked breath shuddering out of him. "But I would like to try," she added, after a biting moment of silence. His heart slammed into his ribs, while something wet and trembling echoed from his lips. "I'd like that," he whispered, blinking hard to try to dissolve the tears in his eyes, something glimmering in his core now, something like hope. "Okay," Ellie said softly, pushing herself off the railing, "I'll see you around."

Ok, I need to express how much I LOVED how you added the game part. The EXACT game part. This is amazing. I played the game so many times, I love it so much, and your series fits in so perfectly it's so damn brilliant

"I missed you, Lily. Every day. I never stopped missin' you." He felt her tremble in his arms, her fingers twisting into his shirt as she slowly lifted her head, those bright glossy eyes searching his own. "And I'm— I'm sorry," he choked out, the words clawing their way out of him. "M'so sorry, baby, for lying to you, for bein' so horrible, I— I hate myself for it. I don't deserve your forgiveness and I'm not asking you for it." Lily opened her mouth, about to speak, those blue eyes gazing up at him, so soft, so bright he loathed himself for ever making her cry, for ever speaking such blasphemous, egregious things to her, even if he'd spoken them to keep her safe, to keep her away from him, the disgusting creature he'd become. "Let me finish," he said, before she could speak, reaching up to run his thumb across the soft skin beneath her eye, collecting a tear as he did. "When Sarah died," he exhaled the words, relief and agony swirling in marriage in his gut. "That first day. I— I didn't see any reason to keep goin'." His hand shook as he took her wrist in his hand, bringing her fingers up to that gnarled scar on his temple. She exhaled sharply as her fingers brushed against it, her hand trembling against him, those bright blue eyes going a little dark, glossing over with new tears that made him want to scream. "When I went to pull the trigger, I flinched, 'cause I heard your voice."

Oh boy. The confession about his feelings. The fact that he heard her voice????

"M'right here baby, you feel me? You're so full of me, little one," he purred, taking her hand from his shoulder and placing it on her lower belly, pressing his own hand over it so she could feel him inside of her, feel the thick shape of his cock hammering into her.

wow. So hot, so perfect

Joel dropped his head, trying to push the darkness he felt surging through him away, trying to cast it out so she would not fall victim to it, to him again. Never again. But then he felt it, her little hand spreading out over his cheek, and he trembled at the touch, a shudder working itself down his spine, and he let himself fall into it, into her, let himself be weak. "I killed them all," Joel muttered. "I saved her." Lily gently lifted his head, those blue eyes he'd been in search of his entire life gazing straight into his, without fear, without disgust, with something so warm he felt that black rottenness inside him completely melt away.

I love that he told her. And of course, of course, Lily's perfect, perfect words.

"Caleb," she choked out, when he was close enough to see, when she could make out the way his blue eyes had gone glossy and red, see the way his skin had gone discolored and scabbed. And he paused, the creature controlling him— or perhaps him, buried deep somewhere inside that vessel— paused at the sound of his name, cocking his head, twitching in place as he stared at her. It was almost like he knew, like he heard her somewhere in there, like the last remaining shred of his humanity was desperately trying to keep the creature controlling him from ripping her apart. She let out a sputtering cry, blinking rapidly, trying to keep her vision clear so she could see him one last time, even if this version of him was monstrous, even if the virus had eaten away all the life that had once brimmed in his eyes.

And here I am, sobbing again while I re read this chapter 🥺🥺🥺

"The Jeff Goldblum love." Something sprang open in Joel's chest at that, and he laughed, a full-bodied, thundering laugh as his head tilted back, and he heard Lily match it with a little giggle that made his stomach flutter. "You guys are fucking weird," Ellie breathed out, but when he glanced over at her, there was a smile tugging at her lips, and her eyes flickered to him for just a moment, but it was the first time she looked at him with anything but animosity in years. Joel had his girls, safe, warm, with him, for the first time in a lifetime.

I had to take off my glasses and wipe my eyes there, I was crying so much while rereading this.

Thank you SO MUCH for this series. I can't say it enough. One of my favorite series ever ❤️❤️❤️

Nights Like This One: XXV.

"He looked at her, and he loved her, loved her so much it burned, like something eternal, something that no amount of time, nor distance, nor the end of the world as they had known it, could kill off. He'd loved her, perhaps, since that first moment he saw her, looking hollow and bereft on the threshold of her mother's house. He loved her in every death, every birth, every reiteration of himself."

paring: joel miller x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 9.5k a.n. this is the last full chapter. i'm so bereft knowing it's almost over. i don't know if i've ever been so emotionally invested in a story i've written before like i have this one. i literally cried writing the last few paragraphs. i hope you love it. i hope it mends you. i hope it balms the pain i've put you through over the past couple months. thank you so very much for reading. epilogue will be out soon. ily <3

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[mosspapi]

Uncharacteristically upset about The Disabilities tonight. Thought I was over this by now. What the fuck

[poguehearted77]

Just Another Cliché

Summary: Rafe has been asking to take you out for years and you always shoot him down, but after a particularly bad day, you decide things can't get much worse.

<<Here's some fluffy angst for those who need it>>

Shitty was an understatement for the day you had. This day will go down in history as the worst day any soul has ever lived through.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." The murmur is bitter on your tongue as you stuff your hands deeper into your warm pockets. The breath of your words were visible in the crisp winter air as you were about to pass by Rafe Cameron who waited patiently outside of your apartment building with a single rose just like he always did.

Since your senior year of high school, every year on the fourteenth of February, he would wait outside your complex, asking you out, then you say no, then he goes home. That's the tradition.

Well, technically you never said no. You'd always make up some excuse. 'I don't have time for a relationship right now' or 'Now's a bad time' are just a few of the examples you've used over the last five years.

It's not that there was anything wrong with him. You actually did find him attractive. Aside from the sketchy reputation he had going for him back in high school, he was still a relatively nice guy.

You just didn't have the time for a relationship, or at least you didn't before.

A small smile forms on his face as he sees you, already knowing what to expect. Another excuse like "Fine," yup, just as he thought- Wait.

"Say that again?" His head shakes in disbelief, blue eyes bulging slightly. Your shoulders shrug under your heavy-duty winter jacket. "My car was towed, then I lost my job, so why not lose my dignity too? Let's go out." You say and his heart begins to bounce off the confines of his ribs.

Not sure if it was the frosty air nipping at his cheeks or his lifetime wish finally unwrapping before his eyes, his cheeks flushed and he blinked a few times. "You won't regret this, I promise." he holds out the rose for you to take, and you finally do. For the first time in five years. You bite back a scoff, not in the mood for empty promises.

"Why haven't you given up yet?" You ask and now he places his hands in his pockets as a chilling breeze sweeps past you. He's rocking back on his heels slightly, "Life's too short to give up." The tiny smile on his face does make you scoff this time but he moves past it, "I'll text you later," is the last thing he says before he walks off.

You look down at the rose, then at his shrinking figure as he heads for the distance. A little pep in his step and you shook your head, immediately regretting your decision.

Great, this is exactly what you needed, another cliché.

-

Just another cliché is exactly what it was. On the lowest day of your life, you finally gave Rafe a chance. Of course, he changes your life in ways you couldn't imagine and leaves you with a dead weight of regret for not giving in sooner.

Your first date wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but it was fun. The two of you were inexperienced skaters failing to skate in the middle of the town square during the heart of winter. With festive lights outlining the rink where you laughed every time one of you fell.

There was even a point in time when you'd both embraced the cold connection with the ice floor and had a deep conversation on the sidelines, watching the other skaters circle the rink.

"Why me?" The question slips out before you can catch it and he licks his lips. He anticipated the query would arise eventually. "You remember that party Hailey Vanderbilt threw back in senior year?"

You hum with a nod, that was a party you'll never forget. Pool toys ended up in the trees, broken windows, jello in the hot tub, fights in the front yard and gambling in the back. "You and a few of the girls were playing truth or dare and they had dared you to start a rumour that I'd shaved my head because my family had joined some cult or some shit."

It took you a second, but the memory came back to you. "You don't know this, but I was fucking wasted behind the couch, but I'll never forget the way you stood up for me to them and refused to do it, and I dunno, I jus' think that was really cool of you." His head turns to you, his gaze softening when he looks at you.

At that moment, you felt the butterflies flap around in your stomach for the first time. He clears his throat, expression becoming more sombre as he continues. "My mom," He starts, taking a difficult swallow to get the words out.

"She was really sick. I got caught up with the wrong crowd to deal with it. Doing anything people said would get me distracted, even for a little, but she got worse and me being high every day didn't help so I quit. Her chemo was taking everything from her and eventually, she just shaved it off, she hated looking in the mirror and it killed me."

Your chest tightened at the story, having a sneaking suspicion of where this was going, "So when you shaved your head..." You trail off and Rafe nods along, turning away from you as a stray tear falls. "It was for her. You sticking up for me meant so much more than you know."

So there you both sat, on the ice with your backs against the wall in silence while the faint Christmas music chimed in the background. The date had taken a sad turn but you're glad it did, it sparked the beginning of your forever-evolving bond.

That was only the first date of many. Dozens and dozens of dates had flown past you and with each one you hated yourself a little more for letting him stand outside of your complex for five years rather than invite him inside.

"This is a nice place." He compliments as he takes a look around before settling himself on the couch with you beside him. "Thanks, it used to be a lot nicer when I could afford it. Had to sell some stuff to keep it after I lost my job."

He chuckles, "That explains why we're facing a blank wall and no television." and you pinch him. "Sacrifices had to be made. Who needs a TV anyways when there's so many other things we could do to keep ourselves busy." Your wandering hand gently runs down his firm thigh and you can feel the muscles in his leg tighten.

This was unchartered territory for you. You'd been dating for almost three months now and have never been intimate in that way, but Rafe knew the kind of person you were. A perfectionist, you need to be sure of everything before you try it.

Based on how fervently you were currently kissing along the length of his neck he could assume he had a pretty good idea of where your head was at. "Baby, baby--" He struggles to keep you at bay so he can lock eyes with you. "Are you sure about this? We don't have-" You silence him with the passionate attack of your lips against his.

Nearly tackling him onto his back, your hips straddling his as you demonstrated your certainty to him.

-

The months went on and sleepovers became more frequent. Even when Rafe had that tired look in his eye which was more often these days, you kept him up with your bright eyes and wide smile as you explained to him the newest conspiracy that intrigued you.

He tried his best to listen to what you were saying but he'd often lose himself in the labyrinth of his own mind. You were just so cute when you were talking about what you were passionate about. Especially when you wore the glasses you cursed so much, opting for contacts during the day.

"Why don't you wear your glasses more often?" He asks and you frown, "Rafee, did you hear anything I just said?" He nods, "Of course I did. I heard every last word.... up until about five minutes ago." You whine and he hugs you tight as an apology, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead.

You couldn't stay mad at him. That was proven time and time again when even your biggest fights would be resolved within 24 hours. Rafe insisted on talking things out, no matter how hurt the both of you may feel. He never wanted to go to sleep without making things right. "Life's too short," He would say.

You both had your shortcomings, but that goes without saying. Rafe was short-tempered and you were stubborn, a bad combination for an opinionated conversation. Things can quickly spiral out of control but when it came to apologies, Rafe outdid you every time. Flowers, or a small gift to show his feelings.

Even now, as Rafe leant against your kitchen island as you transferred the flowers he'd gifted you 'just because'. A weak smile graced his lips as he noted the way you did everything with such intensity, putting your all into everything you did.

Leaning forward onto his crossed forearms he watches you. "You're staring, babe." You say and he can only hum. "Can't help it. I like what I see," His words elicit a soft warmth to radiate in your chest.

"I love you, y'know that?" You're startled as you feel his arms wrapping around your waist from behind. "You tell me only every day, Rafe." He comes down to peck your cheek before you're rotating in his hold to face him. "But I love you too." You're unable to contain your smile as you say it.

It wasn't the first time but every time the words left your mouth, it gave you a little bubbly feeling. Security blossomed within you anytime your eyes grazed over his features.

"Let's go out tonight, yeah? Let's go dancing." Rafe declares without thinking and you laugh, tilting your head to look at the time over the stove. "It's almost midnight, nothing's open at this hour." You reason, but he doesn't back down.

Holding you by the hand, he twirls you. "Not a problem, we'll just do it here." That night your apartment was filled with laughter and soft jazz. Rafe hardly ever had this much energy so late but you loved it.

Two days after that night of dancing, you woke up to an eerie silence that felt too heavy for the morning. You went about your routine, still buoyed by the memory of Rafe's laughter filling your apartment. You checked your phone—just the usual notifications, a missed call from an unknown number, and a message from Sarah that simply said, "Call me."

You barely had time to press dial before she picked up, her voice trembling. She tried to speak, but only the sound of soft, choked sobs came through. Finally, she managed, "I’m so sorry…"

The words hit you, but you didn’t understand them. You wanted her to stop, to say something else—anything else. She kept speaking, her words blurred and distant, as though you were underwater, drowning. Somewhere in her explanation, you heard the words, "peacefully… in his sleep." But it didn’t feel peaceful. Your mind raced, demanding answers. Why hadn’t he told you? How long had he known?

Over the days that followed, Rafe's family gently filled in the pieces: he’d been sick for years, silently enduring, doing everything he could to hide it. Every date, every moment spent laughing with you, was a deliberate choice he made to live his last days fully, in love and joy, with you.

He hadn’t wanted you to know because he couldn't bear to see you suffer for him the same way he was once familiar with in his senior year. Even in the end, he kept the truth locked away, shielding you from the loss he knew was coming.

The weight of his choice tore you apart. You wanted to be angry, to hate him for leaving you out, but in his silence, there was also a strange kind of love. A love that had given you a few precious, unburdened moments together. Still, the pain settled deep within you, refusing to ease.

The anger, hurt, and ache became constant companions in the days that followed. But in his absence, you began to understand just how much he’d given for you.

He'd shared with you how hard it was for him to deal with that eerie state of loss. The stage where the person isn't gone but you know you'll lose them. It alters you in a messed up kind of way and he wanted you as far from that reality as possible. He was protecting you from his own condition till the very end.

Helping his family to clear out his apartment was easily the hardest thing you'd ever done. You couldn't do it without tearing up with every belonging of his you touched.

His favourite hoodie that he never let you wear but loved when you did. The polaroids in his drawer that you took from your first date, taken from the floor of the ice rink.

You noticed he'd scribbled writing on the back of the photo.

She finally said yes.

That was all it took. The last bits of your composure were stolen from you and you wept on his bedroom floor. Everyone always told you it would get easier but it never did. How could things get easier when the other half of your heart was buried six feet below the ground?

You learned to live with the loss, forcing a smile when in the company of others and taking deep breaths every morning when you woke up. Mildly disappointed the realm beyond the living hadn't reaped you during your slumber.

Very slowly, you begin to adjust to this new reality. It’s not the life you imagined, but you learn to live with the loss, carrying him with you in the smallest, most tender ways. His favourite hoodie becomes your comfort on cold nights, wrapping you in his memory and his scent.

Just because he was gone doesn't mean you'd end all of your traditions. Each year on the fourteenth of February, you visit his grave, placing a single red rose on the stone as a quiet tribute.

Though the ache remains, you hold his spirit close, carrying him forward into every milestone and memory yet to come, honouring the love you shared while finding the strength to continue onward.

In some ways, your love story turned out to be just another cliché—until it ripped your heart out from your chest, leaving you with the unbearable ache of everything he left unsaid, every unfulfilled promise, and the haunting silence of a future that will always belong to him.

Somehow, even in the quietest, most heart-wrenching moments, you never gave up on finding the silver lining, because life’s too short.

[pellucid-constellations]

I'd Answer

You've been gone. Azriel's been broken. Something has to change, and Azriel would do anything.

Part 2 of If You Cared to Ask

“This is for you,” Mor huffed, plopping down a small bouquet of roses onto the growing garden that seemed to have sprouted on the table. “What is that, number twelve?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t count them,” you brushed off, your gaze falling on the gifts for a fleeting moment.

Mor hummed. “Are they doing anything for you?” 

“Not particularly.” 

Your friend shuffled into the small sitting room and gracefully landed in the chair beside yours, her eyes piercing a hole in the side of your head when you refused to look up. She sighed, and then sighed again, making a show of slotting her chin in her palm and looking forlorn. 

The third sigh was your breaking point. 

You placed your book on the table and turned to Mor with your brows raised. “Yes?” 

“Oh, nothing,” she airily replied. “I was just wondering when you were going to give this up. You don’t have to forgive the guy, but at least put me out of my misery and let me tell him where you’re staying. I’m basically a delivery service at this point. He says sorry again, by the way.” 

“Oh, well in that case—” 

“More than just sorry, but I can’t remember everything he said. It was all rambly and his face was all gaunt.” Mor pressed her fingers up to cover her eyes. “I’m not even sure if he’s eating. Rhys had to stop sending him out because he almost fell out of the sky.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel bad?”

You hoped your ruse was believable because hearing that Azriel was doing so poorly did make you feel bad. Your heart lept up to your throat at the prospect of your mate falling from the sky from exhaustion. But he had had so many opportunities to make this right and you weren’t about to give up your anger so easily. 

Mor offered a sad expression that looked authentic this time. “Y/n, he loves you. He’s an idiot and the whole lot of them are mindless fools, but Azriel has never loved anything the way he loves you.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you snorted. “And he shows that love by forgetting me and then arguing when I’m clearly upset over it?” 

“I know. He told me how much of an ass he’s been. But, I promise you, I’ve known Azriel for a long time. He was just—just handling everything with Rhys poorly. He felt so so guilty when Rhys got trapped. You know that.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek and avoided Mor’s gaze. “I know.” 

The lack of vitriol in your tone had Mor perking up. “And you remember how hard he tried to get him back—how broken he was when Rhys sent out his last message. Az feels responsible for everything when it comes to his family.”

You didn’t need the reminder. The tortured way he carried himself over the past 50 years was evidence enough of the truth behind Mor’s words. And you had been there to soothe that pain, to help run the court that Rhys left behind. 

When silence persisted, Mor craned her neck to catch your gaze. “I’m not saying what he did was right, but you know he’s been in overdrive since Rhys returned. He goes off on those missions when Rhys calls, but… y/n, he only leaves without notice when his informants…” 

Mor trailed off. 

Your gaze finally flickered up. “When?” 

Mor bit her lip and winced. “He told me not to tell you this part. He said he didn’t want you to think he was making excuses.” 

“Tell me anyways.” 

“Fine. But you can’t rat me out.” Mor sighed and leaned back in the chair, still facing you. “He does go on every mission Rhys proposes, and that’s… stupid, but he tells you about those ones, I think. When he just up and leaves, it’s because—y/n, it’s because they're about you. You know there’s a slew of people that want you dead for your involvement up in Illyria. He has a team of informants with the sole purpose of listening for you name.

“He goes on Rhys’s missions because he doesn’t want his family separated again, but sometimes, it’s because he just wants to protect his mate.” 

A stone dropped past your ribs and into your stomach. “But, he never told me—” 

“You know these overgrown bats think that suffering in silence is an honorable thing to do,” Mor rolled her eyes. “They overwork themselves fighting the good fight or whatever and seem to forget that the rest of the world is still out there, facing the consequences of their actions. And… I think he just wanted you to feel safe. I think he’s been scared.” 

Something sickly climbed its way up your consciousness. You looked down at your hands as they rested in your lap. 

You hadn’t seen Azriel in six days, and each day had more anger coursing through you, building up a wall that you thought impenetrable. Because you were so angry; Azriel had disappointed you time and time again, left you feeling abandoned and alone, and then he got defensive about it as if you were the one at fault. 

Part of you always knew it was a defense of some sort, but you had thought it a defense of something nefarious. You had tossed around the idea of infidelity a few times, and that rivaled the thought of him simply falling out of love with you. 

But it was this. 

It was him hiding how hard he’d been trying to protect you—however idiotic his tactics may have been. 

“You can tell him where I am,” you murmured clenching your fingers into your palm. “And leave the door unlocked, I guess.” 

Mor had left the small apartment on the outskirts of Velaris before you finished your sentence. 

It took approximately 7 minutes for a tentative knock to sound at your door. 

Mor had left it unlocked, but there was still a knock. 

You took a glance at the pile of flowers on the table before heading to the front door. The old floorboards creaked under your feet, a reminder of the rundown apartment you had sought out after you left. It was a frantic process, searching for a place to stay; you hadn’t cared much for luxury or comfort.  

Opening the door was jarring. Azriel’s wings were half-raised as if he’d just flown down and then forgot how to control them. His face was pallid with dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair was windswept, expected from the flight, but it looked tugged at and disheveled beyond that. 

“Hi.” 

Maybe you’d been looking him over too long because Azriel’s voice cracked at the single word. He sounded unsure, verging on afraid, and all you had done was pass over his figure with your eyes. 

You tightened your grip on the door handle. “Um, hi.” Your tone was harsher than you meant it to be. 

Azriel flinched. “I’m sorry, Mor said…” 

“No, I—Come in.” 

You stepped back and pushed the door open to accommodate his hesitant steps into your rental. Azriel stood in the middle of the space and wrung his hands as you shuffled behind him, a slight tremor showing in his fingers. You leaned back against the door with your own hands pressed at the small of your back. You watched Azriel’s lingering gaze trail over the flowers in the corner of the room. 

“You didn’t like them?” he meekly asked. 

Something inside of you hurt. 

“They were okay,” you answered. “But I didn’t want flowers.” 

Azriel nodded and his lashes fluttered shut. His hands twitched. 

“I’m sorry—for the flowers, I mean. They were a pathetic reason to send Mor to you. You wanted to be left alone.” 

“I did not want to be left alone, Azriel.” You kicked away from the door, bringing your arms across your chest for some form of protection. “I wanted you. I wanted you to care about me.”

“I do,” Azriel stressed. He took a step forward and the wood beneath his boot creaked. “I do, y/n.  I care about you more than anything—I love you.” 

“Then why couldn’t you show me? Why did it take me leaving, me getting hurt, for you to finally listen to me and see how much I’ve needed you?” 

Your chest was heaving, each word from your lips a choked gasp. Azriel took all of it and absorbed your full meaning, seeming to wince at every insinuation that he didn’t love you. His jaw quivered and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 

“Why did you stop talking to me?” you asked, a broken rendition of your anger. “Why—Mor told me… She told me things. Things that make sense. But why does it feel like I don’t matter to you?” 

“My love,” Azriel stressed. Yearned. He rushed forward, abandoning all reservations and gathering you into his arms as tears began making headway down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t—I’m so so sorry.” His words were almost lost against your temple as he held you, each apology a whisper of a kiss against your skin. 

“You weren’t there and Devlon—he—” 

“I know, angel, I know and I’m so sorry. Had I known… Had I listened.” He pulled you back from his chest, crouching down to meet your eye and wiping tears from your cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was keep you safe. I thought I was doing that. I don’t know what Mor told you—” 

“She told me everything. She told me you’ve been following leads about me and taking on too much. She told me you’re scared.” 

Azriel breathed and it sounded anguished. “I am terrified. We lost Rhysand and now you are in the throes of a society that almost killed me. I—I wake up every morning and everything is good and I am so afraid to lose that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us. But I almost lost you and—” 

You let out a breathy cry. “You could never lose me, Azriel.” 

He pressed his forehead to yours, the wetness of his cheeks now apparent. Azriel’s hands were firm on either side of your head and his fingers laced up into your hair. 

Gods, you missed him. 

You missed him and everything hurt. 

“I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just please—please, don’t leave again. Please come home. Let me fix this.”

The want was overwhelming. It would be so easy to say yes, but it would be just as easy for nothing to change. 

“You can’t do that again, Azriel,” you stressed, shaking your head and causing your mate to draw back. Only a breath was left between you. “You have to tell me what’s going on. You can’t—you can’t leave me in the dark. You can’t make me feel like that.”

Azriel’s head shook in desperation. “I won’t. I promise I won’t.” 

“I need to know I can rely on you—trust you.” 

“You can, angel.” 

“I need to know that you love me.” 

A pained sound escaped Azriel’s throat. He licked his lips and reaffirmed his hold on your face, locking his eyes with yours in a beseeching gaze. 

“I love you more than life itself, angel. I couldn’t breathe when you were gone. I can’t believe I made you think that I don’t. You are my life. Let me show you. Please, let me show you.”

You tracked your eyes between both of his. “Okay, Azriel.” 

“I’m going to keep you safe.”

“I am safe.” 

“I love you.” 

"I know you do, Az. I know."

[tinystarbites]

accidents pt. 1.5 | Spencer Reid x Reader

Okay so, WOW. I am completely blown away by the response to my first fic on here, 120 followers in 6 days are you guys okay? Because I am definitely not :,). While accidents pt. II isnt quite finished just yet (thank you so much for being so patient with me<3 uni is kicking my ass already rip), I thought I'd give you all a small sneak peek, aka the first 800-ish words of the second part. I hope you enjoy and thank you all so so much for the generous feedback so far!! <333 I'll go rewatch my genetics lecture now yippie :,,,,)

here you can read the entire first part, please head the warnings! Same ones apply here. also, if you wanna get tagged in pt. II, let me know in the comments!

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Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

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oh spencer, you weren't quite as subtle as you thought. rip my boy. also whooops another cliffhanger? haha my fingers must've slipped my bad

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[reidmarieprentiss]

Whispers in the Dark

Summary: Derek Morgan's best friend from back home moves to Virginia, Spencer takes a liking to her.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff, smut (18+), angst

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, JJ is not a good person in this story, a little Hotchniss, reader wears a dress, alcohol consumption

Word count: 14.7k

a/n: i think this is absolutely adorable! i'm so sorry jj is bad in this, having a few plot points felt more fun :/

main masterlist

Additional warnings: fingering, oral (fem receiving), handjob, penetrative sex, no condom (wrap it before you tap it), nipple play

The break room was buzzing with the familiar hum of the coffee maker as Derek filled three mugs with steaming hot coffee. Emily and Penelope stood nearby, eagerly awaiting their morning caffeine fix. Emily leaned against the counter, her eyes twinkling with curiosity, while Penelope practically bounced on her toes in excitement.

"So, who exactly is this friend of yours?" Emily asked, tilting her head slightly.

Derek chuckled, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Y/N? I guess she just landed early this morning."

Penelope's eyes widened with delight. "Oh, Derek, that is so exciting! I cannot wait to meet her. I just know we are going to be the best of friends already!"

Derek held up a hand, his expression playful yet protective. "Whoa, whoa, whoa now! No one is stealing my best friend, and no one is stealing my baby girl."

Penelope grinned mischievously. "Oh, come on, Derek. You know she's going to love me. I have that effect on people."

Emily sipped her coffee, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "From what I've seen, Y/N is quite the catch. She's gorgeous."

Derek's protective instincts flared up instantly. "Hey, hey! She's like a sister to me, and that's all there is to it."

“Bold of you to assume I was suggesting you might like her,” Emily wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Penelope giggled, poking Derek playfully in the ribs. "Relax, big brother. We're just teasing you. Though, I wouldn't blame any of the people around here for trying to get her attention."

Derek rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his face. "Y/N is amazing, no doubt about it. But she is a little shy sometimes. Just don't scare her off with all your excitement, okay?"

Penelope placed a hand over her heart, feigning innocence. "Who, me? Scare someone off? Never!"

Emily took another sip of her coffee, her expression turning thoughtful. "So, what's the plan? Are you bringing her by the office?"

Derek nodded. "Yeah, I thought I'd show her around, introduce her to everyone. She's moving pretty close to me, so you'll be seeing a lot of her."

Penelope clapped her hands together. "This is going to be so much fun! I'm already planning a welcome party in my head."

Derek shook his head, chuckling. "Just remember, she's shy. Take it easy on her, okay?"

Emily smiled, placing a reassuring hand on Derek's shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll make her feel right at home."

Penelope leaned in closer to Derek, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "So, are you going to help her unpack tonight?"

Derek shook his head. "She actually made a trip earlier to move her stuff into her new townhouse. She's already unpacked and settled. She was just using up the last of her vacation hours from her previous job before moving in today."

Emily's eyes lit up with interest. "She sounds like she's got everything under control."

Derek nodded proudly. "She always does. She's incredibly organized and independent."

Penelope's eyes gleamed with an idea. "Why don't we take her out to the club to celebrate her arrival? It could be a great way for the team to meet her."

Derek hesitated, thinking about Y/N's shy nature. "I don't know, Pen. She's not really the clubbing type."

Penelope waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, come on, Derek. She'll have a blast. It's the perfect way to meet everyone in a low-stakes environment."

Emily nodded in agreement. "Yeah! It could be fun, Derek. And it would give us all a chance to get to know her better. Or we could bring her in for interrogation if you prefer."

Derek sighed, knowing they had a point. "Alright, alright. We'll take her out to the club. But if she starts feeling uncomfortable, we're out of there. Got it?"

Penelope and Emily nodded enthusiastically. "Got it!"

“Got what?” Rossi entered the break room, curiosity piqued by the lively conversation.

"Oh, nothing!" Penelope exclaimed with a mischievous grin. "Just that we convinced Derek to bring his new lady friend to the club tonight!"

Derek huffed, rolling his eyes and glaring at Garcia. "Would you not put it like that? She's my best friend from back home. She just moved here."

"Sounds fun. I'll go," Rossi said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Well, yeah, someone has to pay," Emily snickered, giving Rossi a playful nudge.

Rossi chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Alright, I'm in. It'll be good to meet the woman who managed to keep Morgan in line all these years."

Derek shook his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "Y/N is amazing, but she's not some wild party girl. Just promise me you'll all be on your best behavior."

Emily placed a hand on her heart. "Derek, I solemnly swear that we will make her feel right at home. Right, guys?"

Penelope and Rossi nodded in agreement, their faces equally sincere.

"Okay, okay, nerd," Derek teased and relented. "I'll let her know the plan."

Penelope clapped her hands together, her excitement bubbling over. "This is going to be so much fun! I can't wait!"

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "You guys better not scare her off. Let's make sure her first night out is a good one. No green fairies, I’m looking at you, baby girl."

Penelope pouted dramatically. "Spoilsport! I was just going to introduce her to the joys of absinthe."

Emily laughed, patting Penelope's shoulder. "Maybe we should stick to something a bit more tame for her first night, Garcia."

—

Emily made it her personal mission to get Hotch on board with the club—sue her if she wanted to see him let loose a little.

She found him in his office, buried under a stack of case files. Knocking lightly on the doorframe, she stepped inside. "Hey, Aaron. Got a minute?"

Hotch looked up, his expression serious as always but softened slightly when he saw her. "Sure, Emily. What's up?"

She closed the door behind her and took a seat across from him, leaning in slightly. "So, you know Derek’s friend Y/N is moving to town, right?"

Hotch nodded, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. "Yes, Derek mentioned it."

"Well, we're all planning to go out to the club tonight to welcome her. I think it would be great if you joined us," Emily said, her tone persuasive and her gaze steady.

Hotch raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "A club? Emily, you know that's not really my scene."

Emily leaned forward slightly more, her eyes locked on his. "Come on, Hotch. It's not about the club. It's about making Y/N feel welcome. Plus, it’s been ages since you let loose and had some fun."

He sighed, considering her words, his gaze drifting momentarily to her lips before he caught himself. "I appreciate the sentiment, Emily, but I've got a lot of work to catch up on."

She gave him a knowing look, her voice dropping to a softer tone. "You always have a lot of work, Aaron. But sometimes you need to take a break and spend time with the team outside of work. Besides, we might need someone responsible to keep an eye on Derek and Penelope."

Hotch chuckled softly, shaking his head, but his eyes never left hers. "Alright, you’ve got a point. But if I go, I'm not staying out all night."

Emily beamed, feeling the electricity in the air between them. "Deal. I'll make sure you have a good time. Just think of it as a team-building exercise."

Hotch leaned back in his chair, a small, genuine smile playing on his lips. "Fine. I'll go. But you owe me one, Prentiss."

"Absolutely," she replied, her voice almost a whisper. "Thanks, Hotch. Y/N’s going to appreciate it."

As she stood to leave, their eyes locked once more, and the room seemed to shrink around them. "And who knows," Emily added, her voice low and teasing, "you might even enjoy yourself."

Hotch's smile widened ever so slightly, a rare sight. "We'll see about that."

As she left his office, Emily felt a rush of adrenaline. The tension between them was palpable, and she knew that tonight, with the boundaries of the office left behind, anything could happen. The night was shaping up to be more than just a welcome for Y/N; it was an opportunity for something else entirely.

—

Penelope found JJ at Spencer's desk, talking to him while he looked through a stack of files. Spencer was engrossed in his work, his fingers skimming over the pages with practiced ease, but he glanced up occasionally, clearly engaged in their conversation.

"Hey, you two!" Penelope called out, her usual bubbly energy on full display as she approached them. "Got a minute?"

JJ turned to face Penelope, her expression curious. "What's up, Garcia?"

Penelope beamed, her excitement practically radiating off her. "So, Derek’s friend just moved to town, and we’re all planning to go out to the club tonight to welcome them. I think it would be great if you both joined us."

Spencer looked up from his files, adjusting in his seat slightly. "A club? That's... not really my thing, Penelope."

JJ nudged him playfully. "Come on, Spence. It could be fun. Besides, it's not about the club; it's about making Derek’s friend feel welcome."

Spencer hesitated, glancing between the two women. "I suppose it would be nice to meet a friend of Derek’s."

Penelope clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling. "Exactly! Plus, it'll be good to see everyone outside of work for a change. We've all been so busy lately."

JJ smiled, a hint of something more lingering in her gaze as she looked at Spencer. "Yeah, it'll be nice to have a night out. We can all use a break."

Spencer nodded slowly. "Alright, I'll go. But don't expect me to dance."

Penelope laughed, patting his shoulder. "No worries, Boy Wonder. Just having you there will be enough."

As Penelope walked away, Spencer turned back to his files, but JJ's eyes lingered on him a moment longer, a small, almost wistful smile on her lips. The prospect of the night out was exciting for more reasons than one, and she found herself looking forward to it more than she should.

—

Y/N stood in front of her closet, the door wide open, revealing a spectrum of clothes ranging from modest to daring. She bit her lip, fingers trailing over the hangers as she contemplated her options. Deep down, she knew she hadn’t gotten rid of her party clothes because she felt good in them, even if she hadn't put them on in half a decade. But Derek lounged on her bed, watching her with a supportive smile, and she strayed to that daring side of her closet.

"I don't even know where to start," Y/N admitted, a touch of frustration in her voice. "I used to love wearing anything skin-tight, sheer, and low-cut, but... Andrew didn't like it when I was on display for other men."

Derek frowned at the mention of Andrew, her recent ex, but quickly masked it with a gentle smile. "Y/N, you're not with Andrew anymore. This is about you. Wear what makes you feel good, not what you think anyone else wants you to wear." He didn’t exactly want to see her pop a tit on the dance floor, but if she found an outfit that she felt good in, he would never tell her otherwise.

She pulled out a sleek, black dress that clung to her curves but had a modest neckline. She held it up, examining it critically. "I don't want to show too much, but I also don't want to feel... boring."

Derek chuckled. "You could never be boring, Y/N. And besides, you should wear something that makes you feel confident and happy. Remember how you used to rock those outfits in your early 20s? That confidence is still in there."

Y/N smiled wistfully, thinking back to her younger self who loved the thrill of dressing up and going out. She pulled out another dress, this one with a sheer overlay and a plunging neckline. "What about this one? Is it too much?"

Derek's eyes widened slightly, but he quickly recovered. "Honestly? It's a little... revealing. But if you feel amazing in it, go for it. Just make sure you're comfortable. That's all that matters to me."

She hesitated, looking between the two dresses. "I want to feel like myself again, Derek. Not the version of me that Andrew wanted."

Derek stood up and walked over to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Then wear what makes you feel like Y/N. Forget about Andrew. This is your night. Be that confident, fun-loving woman you are."

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded, feeling a sense of determination. "You're right. I should wear something for myself." She put back both dresses.

Y/N went digging in her closet until she found what she was looking for: a dress low enough to show what she wanted without fear of exposing herself. It hugged her body the way she liked without highlighting anything she didn’t, and so what if it was a little on the shorter side? She went to the bathroom to change, coming out and doing a spin for Derek.

Derek wolf-whistled and clapped his hands together once. "There you go. That's the Y/N I know. You're going to look amazing, and you'll feel amazing too."

Y/N grinned, feeling a surge of confidence. "Thanks, Derek. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He pulled her into a quick hug. "That's what best friends are for. Now, let's get some accessories on. You can’t leave the house this bare."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "Alright, let's see what I've got." She returned to her closet, pulling out a few pieces of jewelry. "What do you think?"

Derek nodded approvingly. "Perfect."

“Okay, now your turn.”

“What do you mean? I’ve been ready, sweetheart.”

“Derek, I love you, but you look like an idiot.”

Derek was wearing a forward-facing snapback hat, not sitting all the way down on his head, with a too-tight gold chain around his neck and a black button-up. 

“Wow, don’t spare my feelings,” he said with a mock-hurt expression.

“Just put this on. I’ve been thinking about your outfit this whole time too,” Y/N said, handing him a longer chain and a deep maroon V-neck shirt.

Derek raised an eyebrow but took the items from her. He whipped his hat and shirt off, and once the new one was on, Y/N could see the outfit did its intended purpose, showing off every ridge of his chest and abdominal muscles.

“And now you look hot and slutty! Derek, don’t you dare put that hat back on,” Y/N said with a laugh.

—

As the evening approached, JJ took on the role of designated driver, knowing she needed to get back to Henry and Will at a decent time. She picked up Spencer, Penelope, and Rossi, her car filled with excited chatter about the night ahead.

Penelope was the most animated, talking nonstop about the club and how much fun they were going to have. Spencer listened quietly, a small smile playing on his lips, while Rossi chimed in with the occasional witty remark.

They were the first to arrive at the club, the neon lights casting a vibrant glow over the entrance. The music was already thumping inside, creating a palpable energy in the air.

JJ parked the car and they all headed inside. As they found a spot to settle, JJ turned to Spencer. "Hey, I'm not drinking tonight, but could you get me a soda when you go up to get yourself something?"

Spencer nodded. "Sure, JJ. What kind of soda do you want?"

"Just a cola, thanks," she replied with a smile.

Penelope looped her arm through Spencer's. "Alright, Boy Wonder, let's go get those drinks. I need something fruity and fun!"

Rossi chuckled, watching them head towards the bar. "Just make sure you come back, Spencer. Don't let Garcia drag you into any trouble."

Spencer gave a mock salute. "Yes, sir."

At the bar, Spencer ordered JJ's cola, a fruity cocktail for Penelope, and a simple soda for himself. As they waited for their drinks, Penelope nudged him playfully. "So, Spencer, you ready for a night of fun?"

Spencer smiled, though a bit apprehensively. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Penelope grinned, handing him the drinks. "Good. Because tonight is all about making Y/N feel welcome and showing her a good time." 

“Wait, her? I thought you said it was a friend of Derek’s,” Spencer said, looking slightly confused.

“It is, Reid. Boys and girls can be friends, hun,” Penelope replied with a playful smile.

“I know that, Garcia. But it’s Morgan,” Spencer insisted, his eyebrows knitting together.

Penelope shrugged, her smile turning a bit more thoughtful. “I guess we’ll see what their dynamic is. He seems pretty dead set on seeing her like a sister.”

Spencer nodded slowly, still processing the information. “Yeah, I suppose.”

His mind flashed back to past interactions where his awkwardness had gotten the best of him. The fear of saying something wrong or not knowing how to respond often made him retreat into his shell. Even though he had grown more confident over the years, the nervousness never entirely went away.

Penelope nudged him gently. “Don’t overthink it, Spencer. Just be yourself and have a good time. You’re so loveable and your cheeks are so squeezable, you’ll do great!” She pinched his cheek playfully.

Despite Penelope's playful encouragement, Spencer couldn't shake the nervous flutter in his stomach. He'd always found it challenging to navigate social situations, especially those involving women. His intellect and eidetic memory often set him apart, making him feel awkward and out of place.

“Hey, ow, rude,” Spencer protested, rubbing his cheek with a mock glare.

Penelope laughed, her eyes twinkling. “Just a little encouragement, Pretty Boy. You’ll be fine. Besides, I think Y/N will find you just as charming as the rest of us do.”

Spencer smiled, feeling a bit more reassured. “Thanks, Garcia. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, Spence. Now, let’s get back to the table,” Penelope said, giving him a supportive pat on the back as they rejoined the others.

They made their way back to the table, where JJ and Rossi were engaged in a light-hearted conversation. Spencer handed JJ her soda, and she thanked him with a warm smile.

"Thanks, Spence," she said, taking a sip. "This is going to be fun. I'm glad you decided to come."

Spencer nodded, settling into his seat. "Me too. It'll be nice to see everyone outside of work."

Just then, Aaron and Emily walked in together, their presence immediately causing a ripple of silent curiosity. They had grabbed a cab together, which wouldn't have raised eyebrows except for the fact that they didn’t live anywhere near each other.

No one said anything about it, but the thought was clearly on everyone's mind. Penelope's eyes widened slightly, and she exchanged a quick glance with Spencer, who raised an eyebrow. JJ's lips curled into a knowing smile, and Rossi simply shook his head with a bemused expression.

Emily, seemingly unfazed, waved at the group as she and Aaron approached the table. "Hey, guys! Sorry we're late. Traffic was a nightmare."

Aaron nodded in agreement, his usual composed demeanor in place.

Penelope, ever the enthusiastic one, quickly jumped in to keep the mood light. "No worries! We're just glad you could make it. We’re still waiting on Derek and Y/N."

Emily took a seat next to JJ, while Aaron settled in beside Rossi. The unspoken questions hung in the air, but the team was seasoned in reading between the lines. There was a palpable sense of something more between Hotch and Emily, though no one dared to bring it up.

The atmosphere around the table became more relaxed as they chatted and laughed, each member of the team silently noting the unspoken connection between their two colleagues. 

“Alright, I need a drink. Emily, do you want anything?” Hotch asked, standing up and glancing around the table.

JJ looked up, a bit surprised. “Hotch, you’re drinking?”

“Yeah, you never drink,” Spencer chimed in, his eyebrows raised.

“Would you guys leave the man alone?” Rossi interjected, shaking his head with a small smile.

Emily chuckled slightly uncomfortably, nodding at Hotch. “Uh, yeah, thanks. I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”

Hotch gave her a small smile and headed towards the bar, leaving the rest of the team exchanging curious glances. 

Spencer leaned over to JJ. “Do you think something’s going on?”

JJ shrugged, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Who knows? But whatever it is, I’m glad to see him relaxing a bit.”

Hotch returned to the table with drinks in hand, distributing them to Emily and the others. The group settled into a comfortable rhythm, enjoying each other’s company, their laughter and chatter blending with the club’s energetic ambiance.

After a while, Spencer excused himself to go to the bathroom. He navigated through the crowd and found a line, which took longer than expected. By the time he made it back to the table, he noticed Penelope, Emily, and Rossi animatedly gabbing and pointing at something, their expressions reminiscent of gossiping schoolgirls.

Curiosity piqued, Spencer took his seat and leaned in. “What are you all looking at?”

Penelope, barely containing her excitement, gestured towards the dance floor. “Just look!”

Spencer turned to see Derek on a small stage, completely in his element, dancing with a beautiful woman. Derek's moves were smooth and confident, his body swaying in perfect rhythm with the music. The woman with him was equally captivating, moving with a fluid grace that matched Derek's intensity. The two of them were completely in sync, the chemistry between them palpable.

Spencer’s eyes widened as he watched his usually composed friend get down and dirty on the dance floor. “Wow,” he muttered, unable to hide his surprise.

Emily chuckled, leaning closer to Spencer. “Looks like Derek’s having a good time.”

Rossi nodded, a knowing smile on his face. “That’s an understatement. He’s really letting loose tonight.”

Penelope sighed dramatically. “Isn’t it romantic? Derek and his beautiful dance partner, lost in the moment.”

Emily lightly swatted her arm. “Oh, shush. He told us not to make those jokes. They’re basically family.”

“Wait, that’s Y/N?” Spencer was baffled, his eyes widening in surprise.

Penelope nodded, her grin widening. “Yep, that’s her. The infamous Y/N we’ve heard so much about.”

Spencer shook his head, still processing the scene before him. He couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable. Y/N was so captivating and beautiful, but seeing her and Derek on the dance floor, she didn’t look like just a friend. A pang of something unpleasant twisted in his chest, and he felt upset but also silly for feeling that way.

Everyone around the table seemed to be speculating about the nature of Derek and Y/N's relationship. Spencer cleared his throat, trying to push past his discomfort. “Did you all get to meet her before they went on the floor?”

Emily nodded. “Yeah, we did. Y/N’s great. We took shots with her and Derek before a song she clearly loved started playing, and she said she just needed to dance.”

Penelope’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “She’s got such a good, vibrant energy. You’ll love her, Spencer.”

Rossi chuckled. “She’s definitely something. It’ll be hard not to like her.”

JJ, however, stayed quiet, her expression thoughtful. After a moment, she commented, “Their relationship is... interesting.”

Spencer’s eyes darted back to the dance floor where Derek and Y/N were still enjoying themselves. He couldn’t shake the feeling of confusion mixed with intrigue. Y/N was unlike anything he’d ever seen, and seeing her with Derek stirred emotions he wasn’t quite ready to confront.

As Derek and Y/N finally made their way back to the table, laughing and slightly breathless, the group fell silent for a moment, taking in the sight of the duo.

“Hey, guys! Did you see us up there?” Derek asked, his arm draped casually around Y/N’s shoulders.

Penelope was the first to speak, her voice filled with warmth. “Derek, you were amazing up there! And Y/N, girl, that was so sexy! Who knew you could move like that!”

Derek grinned. “Hey, what about me, mama?”

Penelope laughed. “Oh, my chocolate thunder, we all knew you could move like that. But, Y/N! You told us she’d be shy!”

Y/N hid her blush in Derek’s shoulder, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.

“She is, Garcia. She’s just got some liquor in her, don’t you, sweetheart?” Derek said, giving Y/N a gentle squeeze.

Y/N nodded before looking back to the group. Her eyes landed on a new face, and she nudged Derek lightly.

“Ah, pretty boy, this is Y/N, my oldest, longest, best friend.” Derek stated proudly. 

Spencer, feeling a mix of nerves and fascination, blinked up at the flushed, slightly sweaty beauty in front of him. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you too, pretty boy,” Y/N giggled, and Spencer blushed like a tomato.

JJ cut in, her tone slightly more serious. “His name is Spencer.”

Y/N smiled warmly at Spencer, not noticing JJ’s tone. “Nice to meet you, Spencer. Derek’s told me a lot about you.”

Spencer managed a shy smile, still feeling the heat in his cheeks. “I hope it’s been good.”

“Well, I told her about your kiss with Lila Archer, the shot to the knee, and that one time your biggest fan was a serial killer…” Derek teased.

Spencer’s mouth gaped like a fish, mortified. “Derek!”

Y/N laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “You didn’t tell me any of that!” She turned to Spencer with a warm smile. “Spencer, he told me you’re smart and pretty, and one of his best friends. I was jealous that I had competition, but I think I’m okay with sharing now.”

Spencer’s blush deepened, but he managed to laugh along with her. “Thanks, Y/N.”

Derek chuckled, patting Spencer on the back. “See, Pretty Boy? You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Penelope chimed in, her eyes twinkling. “Absolutely! Now who wants a green fairy?”

It couldn't be known who shouted "no" first, but everyone did at least once. The chorus of protests rang out, blending into a collective and resounding rejection.

Penelope pouted dramatically. “You guys are no fun!”

Rossi raised his glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to keeping the green fairy far, far away.”

The group laughed at Rossi’s comment, but it made Y/N realize she didn’t have a drink, having only taken shots. Spencer, noticing the same dilemma unfold on her face, offered to get her something. 

Y/N looked at him gratefully but unsure. “I’m not sure what I want yet. I’ll have whatever you’re drinking.”

JJ cut in again, her voice playful. “Spencer doesn’t drink, but—”

Before she could finish, Spencer smiled and said, “Why don’t you come up with me? We can pick something out together.”

Y/N’s face lit up with a smile. “I’d like that.”

Derek gave her a gentle nudge. “Go ahead, Y/N. You’re in good hands with Spencer.”

As Spencer and Y/N made their way to the bar, the rest of the team watched with amused curiosity. Emily leaned over to Penelope, whispering, “This should be interesting.”

At the bar, Spencer turned to Y/N, feeling more at ease now that they were away from the table. “So, do you have any preferences? Something fruity? Strong?”

Y/N thought for a moment, then smiled. “How about something fruity and fun? Surprise me.”

Spencer nodded, signaling the bartender. “Two fruity cocktails, please.”

As they waited for their drinks, Y/N looked at Spencer, her eyes warm. “Thanks for this, Spencer. It’s been a while since I’ve felt this welcomed.”

Spencer smiled, feeling a connection forming. “You’re welcome, Y/N. I’m glad you’re here. Derek’s talked about you a lot, and it’s great to finally meet you.”

Their drinks arrived, vibrant and colorful. Spencer handed one to Y/N, raising his own glass. “To new friends and new beginnings.”

Y/N clinked her glass against his, her smile genuine. “To new friends and new beginnings.”

As they returned to the table, the group welcomed them back with cheers, and the night continued with even more laughter and bonding. For Spencer, the initial nerves had given way to a sense of excitement and possibility, thanks to Y/N and the help from some liquid courage.

—

The night wore on, and the group became well-lubricated with alcohol. JJ reluctantly decided to head home after confirming that Spencer, Rossi, and Penelope would be able to find their own ways home. They all agreed, not wanting the night to end just yet.

The group moved to a more subdued bar where they could engage in conversation without yelling over the music. The new bar was cozy and intimate, with warm lighting and a quieter ambiance. They settled into a long double-sided booth, perfect for their relaxed conversations.

Aaron and Emily sat against the wall, casually pressed together, their shoulders touching. Penelope was on Emily’s other side, drunk and blissfully unaware of the tension and subtle touches between Aaron and Emily. Across the table, Derek sat against the wall with Y/N in the middle and Spencer next to her.

The cozy setting allowed for a more intimate atmosphere. Derek and Y/N were laughing and chatting about old memories, their camaraderie evident. Spencer, still a bit nervous but more comfortable now, found himself drawn into the conversation.

“So, Y/N,” Spencer began, his curiosity piqued. “What made you decide to move here?”

Y/N smiled warmly, glancing between Spencer and Derek. “Well, aside from Derek being here, I got a great job offer. It was the perfect opportunity for a fresh start.”

Derek grinned, nudging her playfully. “And I promised her we’d make sure she never regretted the move.”

Spencer nodded, feeling more at ease. “It’s good to have you here. Derek’s always talked about you, and it’s clear you two have a special bond.”

Y/N’s eyes softened as she looked at Derek. “We’ve been through a lot together. He’s like the brother I never had.”

Across the table, Aaron and Emily were engaged in their own quiet conversation, their heads close together. Penelope, despite her drunken state, was happily chatting with Rossi about their latest case, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

The intimate setting of the bar allowed the group to relax and enjoy each other’s company without the noise and chaos of the club. Until, of course, ever the trouble starter, Penelope suggested they play a game.

"Alright, everyone!" Penelope announced, her voice carrying a mischievous edge. "How about we play a game? Truth or drink!"

The group exchanged reluctant and curious glances. Derek raised an eyebrow. "Truth or drink? How old are we?"

Y/N nudged Derek and with a friendly smile asked, “What are the rules?”

Penelope grinned, leaning forward. "Simple! You either answer the question truthfully, or you take a drink. No lying, no skipping, and no half-truths."

Emily chuckled, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Alright, Penelope. Who goes first?"

Penelope pointed a wobbly finger at Spencer. "Pretty Boy, you start. Truth or drink?"

Spencer, slightly apprehensive and very nervous because of his awkwardness in social situations and the fear of exposing something embarrassing to Y/N, nodded. "Alright, truth."

Luckily, Spencer and Y/N had switched to water for this drink, so at least he wasn’t drinking alcohol. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever Penelope might ask.

Penelope's grin widened. "What's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you in front of a girl?"

Spencer blushed, glancing around the table. "Well, there was this one time in high school when I accidentally spilled my entire lunch tray on a girl I had a crush on. She was not amused."

Everyone laughed, the tension easing with Spencer's confession. He glanced at Derek, then grinned. "Alright, Derek, truth or drink?"

Derek smirked. "Truth."

Spencer leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "What's the most ridiculous thing you've done to impress someone?"

Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, I once pretended to be an expert salsa dancer to impress a girl at a party. I had no idea what I was doing and ended up stepping on her feet multiple times. She never talked to me again."

The group erupted in laughter, with Penelope practically in tears. Derek pointed at Emily next. "Your turn, Em. Truth or drink?"

Emily raised an eyebrow, considering. "Truth."

Derek grinned. "What's the most scandalous secret you're willing to share with us?"

Emily thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright, here it goes. I once crashed a high-profile wedding just for the free champagne and food. I even gave a toast, and no one knew I wasn’t invited."

Everyone laughed and looked at Emily with newfound respect. She turned to Rossi. "Alright, Rossi, truth or drink?"

Rossi smirked, taking a sip of his drink before answering. "Truth."

Emily leaned in, curiosity piqued. "What’s the craziest thing you've done on a case that no one else knows about?"

Rossi chuckled. "There was this one time in Vegas. I ended up in an Elvis impersonator contest. I didn’t win, but I got second place and a pretty good story out of it."

The group laughed heartily, imagining Rossi as Elvis. He then turned his attention to Penelope. "Garcia, truth or drink?"

Penelope grinned, eyes twinkling. "Truth."

Rossi smiled. "What’s the most outrageous thing you’ve hacked into, and why?"

Penelope leaned back, thinking. "Okay, this one’s a bit crazy. I once hacked into the Pentagon’s system just to see if I could. Don’t worry, I didn’t do anything. It was purely for the challenge."

The group exchanged wide-eyed glances, impressed and amused. Penelope turned to Y/N, her smile playful. "Alright, Y/N, truth or drink?"

Y/N considered for a moment. "Truth."

Penelope’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done in front of a crush?"

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "During a test in high school, my teacher thought I was trying to look at my crush's test to cheat, but really I was just trying to smell his cologne..."

The group erupted in laughter, the mental image of a young Y/N being caught in such a situation too funny to resist.

“Oh, that’s priceless!” Penelope giggled, wiping a tear from her eye. “Did you get in trouble?”

Y/N nodded, still laughing. “Yeah, I got detention. And my crush thought I was a weirdo for the rest of the year.”

Derek wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, grinning. “Well, I’m sure he missed out on getting to know an amazing person.”

The group laughed, and Y/N turned to Aaron. "Alright, Hotch, truth or drink?"

Aaron, with a rare relaxed smile, chose truth. "Hmm, truth."

Y/N grinned. "What’s the most spontaneous thing you've ever done?"

Aaron paused, his gaze drifting to Emily briefly before he answered. "I once decided on a whim to take a weekend trip to Paris. Bought the ticket the night before and just went."

The group exchanged impressed looks, and Emily nudged him playfully. "Paris, huh? I didn't know you had it in you, Hotch."

He smiled, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "It was a long time ago."

Aaron looked around the table and then settled on Penelope. “Alright, Garcia, truth or drink?”

Penelope, still bubbling with excitement, chose truth. “Truth.”

Aaron’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “What’s the biggest secret you’re keeping from us right now?”

Penelope's eyes widened, but she quickly recovered, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Well, I’m actually planning a surprise party for Reid’s upcoming birthday.”

Spencer looked surprised and touched. “Really?”

Penelope nodded. “Really. And now you all know, so keep it a secret!”

Everyone chuckled, the playful atmosphere growing even more relaxed. Derek leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he looked at Emily. “Alright, Em, truth or drink?”

Emily smirked, sensing the challenge in Derek’s eyes. “Truth.”

Derek’s grin widened. “What’s the most scandalous thing you’ve ever done that you haven’t told anyone here?”

Emily’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she thought for a moment. “Alright, once during an undercover operation, I had to seduce a suspect to get information. It got a little... heated.”

The group’s reactions ranged from raised eyebrows to playful whistles. Penelope fanned herself dramatically. “Emily, you vixen!”

Emily laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Your turn, Penelope. Truth or drink?”

Penelope tilted her head, considering. “Truth.”

Emily’s smile turned sly. “What’s the wildest place you’ve ever had a romantic encounter?”

Penelope’s eyes widened, but she quickly recovered, grinning. “Okay, it was in the server room at Quantico. During a late night shift. I was young and in love.”

Laughter erupted again, and Rossi shook his head in amusement. “Garcia, you never cease to surprise.”

“I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear that,” Aaron teased and lectured.

Penelope turned her attention to Spencer, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Alright, Reid. Truth or drink?”

Spencer, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves, nodded. “Truth.”

Penelope’s grin widened. “What’s the most surprising thing about you that most people don’t know?”

Spencer thought for a moment, then smiled. “I actually love cooking. It’s a great way to relax and get creative.”

Y/N’s eyes widened with interest. “Really? I’d love to try something you’ve cooked sometime.”

Spencer’s smile widened, feeling a surge of confidence. “I’d love that. Maybe we can have a cooking night.”

Emily, sensing that the was game shifting, turned to Aaron, her smile teasing. “Alright, Hotch. Truth or drink?”

Aaron met her gaze, his expression intrigued. “Truth.”

Emily leaned in, her voice low and challenging. “What’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for someone?”

Aaron’s smile softened, his eyes holding Emily’s. “I once arranged a candlelit dinner on the rooftop of a building overlooking the city. Just the two of us, under the stars.”

Emily’s cheeks flushed, and she found herself drawn into his gaze. “That sounds amazing, Aaron.”

Aaron smiled back, the tension between them palpable. “It was.”

Emily turned to Derek, her voice still carrying that playful edge. “Alright, Derek. Truth or drink?”

Derek smirked. “Truth.”

Emily leaned in, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “What’s your biggest fantasy?”

Derek chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “A romantic getaway on a secluded beach, just me and... someone special.”

The group continued to laugh and tease each other, the game drawing them closer. Spencer took the opportunity to ask Y/N another question, feeling more confident with each passing moment.

“Y/N, truth or drink?” Spencer asked, his eyes locking onto hers.

Y/N smiled, feeling the intensity of his gaze. “Truth.”

Spencer’s voice was soft but filled with curiosity. “Are you seeing anyone?”

The team whooped, and they were all very impressed with Spencer's forwardness. Who knew alcohol gave the boy wonder so much confidence?

Y/N's cheeks flushed slightly, but she kept her gaze on Spencer. “No, I’m not seeing anyone right now.”

The whooping and teasing continued, with Penelope playfully fanning herself. “Look at you, Spencer! Bold and direct!”

Derek chuckled, raising his glass. “I’m impressed, Pretty Boy. You’ve got guts.”

Spencer smiled, feeling a mixture of pride and relief. “Thanks, guys.”

Y/N leaned closer to Spencer, her eyes twinkling. “Your turn, Spencer. Truth or drink?”

Spencer, feeling emboldened by the supportive atmosphere, chose truth. “Truth.”

With the eyes and ears of everyone still on them, Y/N asked, “Do you want to share a cab home?”

The team collectively held their breath, waiting for Spencer’s response. His cheeks flushed, but he maintained eye contact with Y/N, his heart racing. “I’d like that.”

The group erupted in cheers and teasing, clearly impressed with the turn of events. Penelope clapped her hands together. “Look at our boy, all grown up and making moves!”

Emily leaned into Aaron, whispering, “I didn’t expect that, but I’m loving it.”

Aaron nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “It’s good to see Spencer coming out of his shell.”

Y/N’s smile widened, and she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Great. It’s a date, then.”

Spencer’s smile mirrored hers, feeling nervous but excited. He then glanced at Derek, feeling the man’s gaze on him.

“Reid, I think you know better than to need for me to give you the shovel talk. But so help me God,” Derek said, his tone half-serious, half-teasing.

“Yup. No worries. Ha. Got it,” Spencer replied, a nervous laugh escaping him.

Derek nodded, his expression softening. “Good. Just get her home safe.”

Spencer nodded, feeling the weight of Derek's words. “I will.”

Y/N smiled reassuringly at Derek. “It’s okay, Derek. Better an FBI agent than anyone else, right?”

“You’re right,” Derek resigned with a small smile.

Soon after, everyone was losing their steam, piling into cabs together, leaving Spencer waiting outside for Y/N, who needed to use the bathroom. When she came out, they stood together waiting to hail a cab for themselves. Spencer noticed Y/N shiver and, ever the gentleman, he offered her his suit jacket. As he draped it over her shoulders, he also ran his hands up and down her upper arms to generate warmth.

“I think you’re the sweetest man ever, Spencer,” Y/N said, looking up at him.

“And I think you’re intoxicated, Y/N,” Spencer replied with a gentle smile.

“So are you,” she challenged playfully.

“I am,” he admitted.

“But you’re still sweet.”

“I’m not that sweet,” Spencer said with some self-doubt creeping in.

“Let me taste you then.”

“What?” Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise.

Y/N leaned up and kissed Spencer, one hand tangling in the hair at the back of his neck and the other sliding under his shirt to caress his tummy. Spencer’s initial shock melted away as he responded to the kiss, his hands gently holding her close.

The kiss was warm and tender, filled with the promise of something new. When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathless, their faces flushed.

Spencer looked into Y/N’s eyes, a mixture of amazement and happiness in his gaze. “Wow.”

Y/N smiled, licking her lips, her fingers still resting against his skin. “See? Sweet.”

Spencer chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Jesus Christ, you’re going to be dangerous, aren’t you?”

“Not if you give me everything I want.”

“I’m a little scared to ask what that is.”

Saved by the bell, a cab pulled up next to them. Y/N grabbed Spencer's hand and pulled him into the backseat. The cab driver asked, “One stop or two?” and before Spencer could speak, she gave the cab driver her address and said, “One stop.”

Spencer was so nervous, thinking about how wrong this was—they were both intoxicated—but Y/N just rested his hand on her thigh and her head on his shoulder. Feeling her warmth and the gentle pressure of her hand, he decided to go with the flow, his worries easing as the cab drove through the city streets.

As they sat in the backseat, Spencer found himself relaxing into the moment. The quiet hum of the cab and the city lights flashing by created an almost surreal atmosphere. He glanced down at Y/N, who looked up at him with a soft, content smile. Her presence was intoxicating in its own right, and he felt a sense of calm and excitement mingling together.

When they arrived at Y/N's place, she led Spencer up to her townhouse. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting. She turned to him, her eyes filled with a mixture of playfulness and sincerity.

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” Y/N asked softly, her hand still holding his.

Spencer nodded, his heart racing but his mind surprisingly clear. “Yes, I’d like that.”

They entered her townhouse, and she closed the door behind them. The night was quiet and still, the tension between them palpable. Y/N took his hand and led him to the living room, where they sat on the couch, facing each other.

“Thank you for helping me home, Spencer,” Y/N said, her voice tender.

Spencer smiled, his nerves settling as he looked into her eyes. “I don’t think you needed any help, but I’m glad I got to spend more time with you.”

She leaned in, her lips meeting his in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was a kiss filled with promise, hinting at something deeper, something more.

When they pulled back, Y/N rested her forehead against his. “Stay with me tonight?”

Spencer nodded, his voice barely a whisper. “I’d love to.”

Y/N led Spencer to her bedroom. In her still-intoxicated state, although she had sobered up some, the comfortability with Spencer was palpable. She stripped down to her underwear and threw on a t-shirt, Spencer very quickly averting his eyes.

She giggled, handing him some sweatpants and a t-shirt as well. “Here, you can wear these.”

Seeing Y/N so comfortable, Spencer also shucked his clothes off down to his briefs, all the while Y/N quietly cheering teasingly from the bed. Spencer felt a mix of giddiness and nervous excitement. He went to the bathroom to splash some water on his face, trying to clear his head and calm his racing heart.

By the time he made it back to the bedroom, Y/N was heavily passed out, her breathing deep and steady. Spencer smiled, feeling a rush of affection for her. He carefully climbed into the bed, pulling the covers over both of them. He lay there for a moment, watching her sleep, feeling the warmth of her presence beside him.

With a contented sigh, Spencer turned off the bedside lamp and settled into the pillow. The events of the night played through his mind, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder at how things had unfolded. As sleep began to take over, he felt Y/N shift slightly, her hand unconsciously finding his and holding on.

Spencer smiled in the darkness, feeling a deep sense of contentment and peace. 

—

The first thing Y/N noticed when she woke up was how warm she was—too warm. She went to throw off the covers before realizing that there was an entire other human beneath her head. Spencer. At some point in the night, her hand had found its way under his shirt to rest on his tummy. She was too afraid to move, not wanting to wake him and face reality. 

Y/N didn't black out; she knew they just went to sleep. But she also remembered asking him to take her home in front of everyone, kissing him, inviting him in, and asking him to spend the night—things Y/N typically did not do. 

As she lay there, her mind raced. She hadn't felt this comfortable or confident in a long time, not since before Andrew. Last night had been a glimpse into who she used to be and who she could be. 

Spencer stirred slightly, his eyes fluttering open. He looked down at her, a sleepy smile forming on his lips. "Good morning."

Y/N blushed, feeling the warmth of his gaze. "Morning." She mumbled.

Spencer gently moved his hand to cover hers on his stomach, his touch comforting. "Are you okay?"

Y/N nodded, her voice soft. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just... processing."

Spencer's smile remained gentle and understanding. "Last night was... unexpected, but nice."

She smiled back, feeling a surge of affection for him. "It was. I don't usually... I mean, I'm not usually that bold."

“Do… do you regret it?” Spencer asked, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

“No, no I don’t. Do you?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” they both said, wearing dopey smiles.

“Can I kiss you?” Spencer asked.

“No.”

“Oh.” Spencer felt a pang of rejection.

“No, sorry, I just, we haven’t brushed our teeth.”

Spencer laughed, relief flooding his features. “Correct you are. Is that something we can fix?”

Y/N shyly led Spencer to her bathroom, grateful everything was so clean due to her just moving in, and handed him a spare toothbrush. They stood side by side at the sink, making cute faces in the mirror, shyly blushing and enjoying each other's company.

As they brushed their teeth, they exchanged playful glances and giggles. The simplicity of the moment made it all the more special. When they finished, Y/N turned to Spencer, her cheeks still pink from their shared embarrassment.

“Better?” he asked, his smile bright.

“Much better,” Y/N replied, her eyes warm. 

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. “Okay, now you can kiss me.”

Spencer leaned in slowly, their faces inches apart. He hesitated for just a moment, taking in the way her eyes sparkled in the morning light. Then, gently, he pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was soft and sweet, filled with the promise of something new. As they pulled away, both of them were smiling, the connection between them growing stronger.

Y/N rested her forehead against Spencer's, her heart racing. “I’m really glad you stayed.”

“Me too,” Spencer whispered, his hand gently caressing her cheek.

Y/N and Spencer walked to the kitchen to put on the coffee and find something for breakfast. Y/N was deep in her cupboards, searching for where she had put her spatulas for the eggs.

“Can you get that, Spencer?” she asked when someone knocked on the door. “I don’t want to forget where I already looked.”

“Sure,” Spencer replied, heading to the door.

Spencer felt his face heat up. “Uh, morning, Derek. I... um...”

“Reid, I told you to get her home. I didn’t say you needed to stay.”

“I—I know, she, um, she asked, and I—”

“You what?”

Y/N, sensing the silence, called from the kitchen. “Who is it, Spencer?”

“It’s Derek,” Spencer called back, his voice slightly strained.

Derek stepped inside, raising an eyebrow. “Y/N, you decent?”

Y/N popped her head out of the kitchen, her expression surprised. “Derek! Oh my god, shut up,” she mumbled, realizing what he said. “What are you doing here so early?”

“Just checking in on you,” Derek said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Wanted to make sure you were feeling okay after last night. Looks like you had company.”

Y/N blushed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, Spencer stayed over. We, um, I was just about to make breakfast. Want to join?”

Derek chuckled, his gaze flicking between Y/N and a visibly uncomfortable Spencer. “Sure, why not. I’d love to.”

As Derek made his way to the kitchen, Spencer closed the door, taking a deep breath to steady himself. This was not how he had expected the morning to go.

In the kitchen, Y/N found the spatulas and set them on the counter. “Coffee’s almost ready. Spencer, can you get some more mugs?”

“Yeah, of course,” Spencer said, moving to the cupboard.

Derek leaned against the counter, watching them with a knowing smile. “So, Pretty Boy, how was your night?”

Spencer fumbled with the mugs, his cheeks burning. “It was... nice. We just... talked and then slept.”

“Is that so?” Derek said, clearly enjoying Spencer’s discomfort.

Y/N shot Derek a look, a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Derek, don’t tease him.”

Derek held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m just glad you’re both okay.”

“So, Reid… how comfy is her bed?”

“Oh, it’s actually really nice,” Spencer replied honestly.

“I knew it!” Derek laughed, and Y/N hid her face in her hands.

Y/N peeked through her fingers, her face flushed. “Derek, stop. You’re embarrassing us.”

Derek laughed heartily, the sound filling the kitchen. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”

As they settled into making breakfast together, the initial awkwardness faded, replaced by the easy camaraderie of friends. Despite the unexpected visit, the morning turned out to be filled with laughter and warmth, a continuation of the night before. 

After breakfast, the three of them sat around the table, finishing their coffee. The conversation was light and easy, but eventually, Derek glanced at his watch and then at Spencer.

“Hey, Reid, I can give you a ride home if you want,” Derek offered casually.

Spencer hesitated, not wanting to leave Y/N’s company just yet, but he knew it would be rude to refuse. “Uh, sure, thanks, Derek.”

Y/N gave Spencer a reassuring smile. “I’ll see you later, Spencer.”

Spencer nodded, feeling a mix of reluctance and resignation. “Yeah, see you later.”

As they walked out to Derek’s car, Spencer took a deep breath, preparing himself for the inevitable grilling. Once they were on the road, Derek wasted no time.

“So, Reid,” Derek began, his tone deceptively casual, “what exactly happened last night?”

Spencer fidgeted slightly in his seat. “We went back to her place and then went to sleep. That’s it.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, glancing at Spencer. “Just slept, huh?”

Spencer nodded, feeling the need to defend himself. “Yes, Derek. That’s all we did. She was feeling comfortable and wanted me to stay, so I did.”

Derek’s expression softened slightly, but he wasn’t done yet. “Look, man, I know Y/N is an adult, and so are you. But that’s my girl. Just... be careful, okay?”

Spencer nodded earnestly. “I will, Derek. I promise. She’s… special.”

Derek sighed, his protective instincts still on high alert. “Alright, Pretty Boy. I trust you. Just remember, don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t,” Spencer said, his voice firm.

Derek gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as they pulled up to Spencer’s place. “Good. Now get some rest, and I’ll see you at work.”

Spencer got out of the car, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude. “Thanks for the ride, Derek. See you later.”

As he walked to his door, Spencer couldn’t help but think about the night before and the possibilities that lay ahead with Y/N. Despite the grilling, he felt a sense of clarity and purpose. He knew he wanted to see Y/N again, and he was determined to take her on a proper date.

—

A week passed, and Y/N didn’t hear from Spencer. She kept busy with her new job and fully settling in, but she thought he might have asked Derek for her number or showed up at her door. But nothing.

Sunday evening, Derek and Y/N went to see a movie. As they walked home after, Y/N tried to get Derek to bring up Spencer without having to ask directly.

“So, how’s the team been this week?” Y/N asked casually, glancing at Derek.

Derek shrugged. “Same old, same old. Cases, paperwork, the usual.”

“Any interesting cases?” Y/N prodded, hoping to steer the conversation toward Spencer.

Derek chuckled. “Trying to get insider info now, huh?”

Y/N laughed, playfully nudging him. “Maybe a little. I’m just curious how everyone’s doing.”

“Everyone’s fine,” Derek said, then paused, eyeing her suspiciously. “You’re really asking about Reid, aren’t you?”

Y/N blushed, caught off guard by Derek’s directness. “Well, yeah. I mean, I haven’t heard from him all week. I thought...”

Derek sighed, a hint of frustration in his voice. “Pretty Boy’s been keeping to himself. He’s been swamped with work, but I think he’s also overthinking things, as usual.”

Y/N looked down, feeling a bit disappointed. “Oh. I see.”

Derek stopped walking and turned to face her. “Look, Y/N, Spencer likes you. But he’s got this thing where he second-guesses himself. He probably thinks he’s messed up somehow.”

Y/N’s eyes softened. “I thought we clicked, or something. I wish he’d just talk to me. I don’t bite.”

Derek grinned. “I know. You just need to be patient with him. He’ll come around.”

They continued their walk, the conversation shifting to lighter topics. However, Y/N’s thoughts lingered on Spencer. She hoped Derek was right and that Spencer would find the courage to reach out.

—

Monday morning, Spencer was sitting at his desk, engrossed in a case file, when Derek approached with a mischievous grin. Without warning, Derek smacked a sticky note on Spencer's forehead.

“Call her, dumbass,” Derek said, chuckling as he walked away.

Spencer blinked in surprise, reaching up to peel the note off his forehead. He read it and felt a mixture of embarrassment and determination. He glanced around to make sure no one else had noticed, then pulled out his phone. He entered Y/N’s number for safekeeping, deciding he’d call later.

“I saw that, Reid. You better call her, or I won’t hesitate to whoop your pretty boy ass,” Derek said, his tone half-serious.

Spencer shrunk in on himself before giving Derek an affectionate middle finger. He then stood up and walked into an empty office, dialing the number.

“Hello…?”

“Hi! Um, Y/N? It’s Spencer. Uh, Derek, he kind of hit me with a sticky note that had your number on it.”

“Oh.”

“I wanted your number! I want to take you on a date if you’ll let me.”

“Oh, yes, uh, yeah, Spencer, I’d love that. I thought when I hadn’t heard from you that you’d changed your mind.”

“No, no. I’m sorry, at first I didn’t want to seem too eager, and then I started to think too much and then I was hit,” Spencer explained, his voice tinged with a mix of apology and humor.

Y/N laughed softly. “Well, I’m sorry you got hit… but I’m also glad Derek gave you that push. When would you like to go out?”

“How about Thursday evening? I know a nice Italian restaurant,” Spencer suggested, feeling more confident.

“That sounds perfect. What time?”

“I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Great. I’m looking forward to it, Spencer.”

“Me too, Y/N. See you then.”

After hanging up, Spencer felt a wave of relief and excitement. He stepped out of the office and saw Derek watching him from across the bullpen, giving him a thumbs up. Spencer rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile.

“Thanks, Derek,” Spencer said, feeling grateful for his friend’s push.

Derek grinned. “Anytime, Pretty Boy. Now get back to work. You’ve got a date to prepare for.”

Spencer nodded, turning back to his case file, his mind buzzing with anticipation for Thursday. He was determined to make it a night to remember for both him and Y/N.

—

It was Thursday evening, and Spencer stood nervously outside Y/N’s door, holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers. He took a deep breath and knocked, his heart racing with anticipation.

A moment later, Y/N opened the door, her eyes lighting up as she saw the bouquet. “How did you know?”

Spencer smiled, a bit sheepishly. “Derek.”

Y/N chuckled. “Of course. Thank you, Spencer, they’re beautiful.”

Spencer handed her the flowers, his smile growing. “I’m glad you like them.”

“Come in for a moment while I put these in water,” Y/N said, stepping aside to let him in.

Spencer entered, feeling the warmth of her home. As Y/N arranged the flowers in a vase, he admired how comfortable and inviting her space was. Once Spencer looked at Y/N, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She looked absolutely stunning. She was in another dress that fit her perfectly, accentuating every asset flawlessly. Spencer swiped at his mouth, afraid he was drooling.

Y/N turned around and noticed Spencer’s intense stare. “Is everything okay? Is there something on my dress?”

In her self-conscious attempts to brush anything off her dress, Y/N managed to make the dress frame her breasts even better, causing Spencer’s brain to shut off. He hadn’t been this unable to control his desire since he lost his virginity.

“Spencer? Hey, you’re scaring me.”

Spencer didn’t say anything. He walked quickly toward Y/N, grabbing her face in his big hands, engulfing almost her whole head, and kissed her. Y/N was caught completely off guard, but after a moment of surprise, she melted into the kiss, responding with equal passion.

The kiss was intense and filled with the unspoken tension that had been building between them. Spencer’s hands moved from her face to her waist, pulling her closer. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their eyes locked in a heated gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer whispered, his voice hoarse. “I couldn’t help myself.”

Spencer’s heart raced, and he leaned in to kiss her again, this time slower and more tenderly. He slowly slid his hands down to her ass, pulling her body against his. Now with full contact, Spencer was able to grind his growing erection against Y/N’s lower stomach. The noise he let out was deep and guttural; it had been a long time since he’d had any intimate contact with someone other than himself.

“Spencer… mmm,” Y/N moaned softly, her breath hitching at the intensity of his touch. “Spencer, the restaurant…”

“Forget about it,” Spencer murmured, his lips moving against hers.

Y/N was torn between the logical part of her that knew they had plans and the overwhelming desire she felt in Spencer’s arms. The heat between them was undeniable, and the way he held her made her feel wanted and cherished in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Spencer’s lips captured hers again, and they moved together, stumbling toward the bedroom. Their hands roamed each other’s bodies, exploring and savoring every touch. The anticipation built with each step, making their hearts race even faster.

Spencer smiled, and with that, they let go of any remaining hesitations. They fell onto the bed together, their kisses growing deeper and more urgent. Spencer pulled back slightly to pull Y/N’s dress over her head, revealing her bare chest.

“Fuck, you are so goddamn gorgeous,” Spencer whispered, his voice filled with awe and desire.

“Spencer, please,” Y/N moaned, her voice tinged with need.

“Oh baby, I got you,” Spencer replied, his voice husky with passion.

Spencer dove down and attached his mouth to Y/N’s nipple, biting, sucking, and licking. Y/N's moans filled the room, her body arching toward him as he continued his ministrations. His hands roamed her body, exploring every inch of her skin, committing each sensation to memory.

Y/N's fingers tangled in Spencer's hair, pulling him closer as she reveled in the pleasure he was giving her. She could feel the intensity of his desire, matched only by her own. Spencer's mouth moved from one nipple to the other, his tongue flicking and swirling, driving Y/N wild with need. What made her thrust her hips up in desperation was when Spencer looked up at her with her breast in his mouth, smiling with her nipple between his teeth and tugging gently. Y/N thought she was going to orgasm right then and there.

“Spencer! Oh fuck! Please, please, do something, I need you to do something,” she pleaded, her voice filled with urgency.

Spencer's hands moved to her hips, gripping them firmly as he continued to lavish attention on her chest. He could feel her body responding to his touch, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Slowly, he moved his hand down to her panties, lightly tracing his pointer finger down the seam, making her whine desperately and wiggle for more.

"Patience, Y/N," Spencer murmured against her skin, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

Y/N's hips bucked against his hand, seeking more friction. "Please, Spencer, I need you."

Spencer's smile widened as he hooked his finger under the fabric of her panties, slowly pulling them down her legs. His fingers teased her folds, brushing lightly against her clit, making her moan and writhe beneath him.

"You're so beautiful," Spencer whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

He continued his slow, deliberate exploration, his fingers finally applying pressure to her clit. He rubbed gentle, teasing circles, making Y/N gasp and clutch the sheets. Her hips moved in rhythm with his touch, her body aching for more.

"Spencer, please," she begged, her voice trembling with need.

“God I love it when you beg for me, you’re so sexy,” Spencer breathed out, biting gently now on Y/N’s throat.

Spencer slipped a finger inside her, eliciting a sharp cry of pleasure from Y/N. He moved his finger slowly at first, then added another, his movements precise and controlled. Y/N's moans grew louder, her body arching off the bed as she chased her release. He curled his fingers up, feeling the wetness grow and splash out around his fingers.

Y/N was writhing in pleasure, the feeling of Spencer’s long, slender fingers pushing into her over and over was beginning to be too much. So much she felt herself drawing near a release, her core clenching tightly around Spencer’s fingers.

"You're doing so well," Spencer murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Y/N could feel the tension building, her entire body tightening as she neared the edge. "Spencer, I'm so close..."

Spencer increased the pace of his fingers, his thumb finding her clit and applying just the right amount of pressure, rubbing quickly. "Let go, Y/N," he urged softly. "I've got you."

With a final, desperate cry, Y/N's body convulsed as she came around his fingers, waves of pleasure washing over her. Spencer held her through it, his fingers never stopping their gentle caress until she finally came down from her high, trembling and spent.

Spencer kissed her softly, his lips gentle against hers. "You okay?" he asked, his voice full of tenderness.

Y/N nodded, her breath still coming in short gasps. "Thank you."

Spencer laughed, his eyes filled with affection. "Did you just thank me?"

“Uh huh,” Y/N replied, dazed and satiated, her eyes half-closed with contentment.

Spencer chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad I could make you feel good.”

“Where… where did you learn how to do that?” Y/N asked, curiosity and surprise in her voice.

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly. “Did you think I was a virgin?”

Y/N hesitated, a sheepish smile on her face. “No… maybe.”

Spencer laughed softly. “Well, thanks for that. I’m not a virgin. But… to answer your question… I read a lot of Doctor Who fanfiction.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, and then she burst into laughter. “You’re kidding, right?”

Spencer shook his head, grinning. “Nope. It’s amazing what you can learn from well-written fanfiction.”

Y/N shook her head in amused disbelief. “Well, I’m impressed. And grateful for all those fanfic authors out there.”

Spencer’s grin widened. “Me too.”

They shared a quiet moment of laughter, the lightness of the conversation adding to the intimacy they felt. Y/N reached out, taking Spencer’s hand in hers. “Thank you for being so… you.”

Spencer squeezed her hand gently. “And thank you for accepting me as I am.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes shining with affection. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Do you want to show me what else you learned?”

“Fuck yeah,” Spencer replied, his voice filled with eager anticipation.

He moved to kneel between her thighs, but Y/N stopped him. He looked up at her, curious.

“Can you take your shirt off? Please?” she asked softly.

Spencer had a smug smile as he took his shirt off, revealing his lean, toned torso. He then resumed his position between Y/N’s thighs. He breathed out on her core, making her squirm and laugh quietly before licking through her soaked folds. Spencer groaned at the taste, loving everything Y/N had to offer.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her fingers tangling in his hair as she felt the warmth and wetness of his tongue against her clit. Spencer took his time, savoring every moment, using everything he had learned to bring her pleasure. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, alternating between gentle licks and firmer presses.

As Y/N’s moans grew louder, Spencer’s confidence soared. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, holding her steady as he continued his ministrations. Her body responded eagerly, arching and trembling beneath his touch.

“Spencer… oh god, that feels so good,” Y/N gasped, her voice breaking with pleasure.

Spencer smiled against her center, increasing the intensity of his efforts. He used his fingers to part her lips, giving him better access, and began to focus on her most sensitive spot with his tongue. Y/N’s moans turned into cries of ecstasy, her grip on his hair tightening. Spencer groaned deeply at the feeling of having his hair pulled, in turn Y/N thrashed as Spencer’s groan vibrated through her. He tightened his grip on her thighs, keeping her secured to his mouth.

“Please, Spencer… don’t stop,” she begged, her voice barely a whisper.

Spencer had no intention of stopping. He continued to lick, suck, and tease, driving her closer and closer to the edge. He entered two fingers once again, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot in Y/N’s core. When he sensed she was about to reach her peak, he applied just the right amount of pressure, sending her over the edge with a powerful, shuddering release.

Y/N cried out, her body convulsing with pleasure as she comes around Spencer's fingers and tongue. He held her through it, his mouth never leaving her until she finally collapsed back onto the bed, panting and spent. 

Spencer’s head pops up from between her legs, chin shining in the moonlight. “How was that?”

Y/N looked down at him, her eyes still dazed with pleasure. “That was... intense. You’re amazing, Spencer.”

He smiled, leaning up to kiss her gently. “So are you, Y/N.”

“Oh my god! Did you just kiss me? Is that what I taste like? I’ve never tasted myself before,” Y/N exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Y/N. Did that make you uncomfortable?” Spencer asked, concern flashing across his face.

“No, I was just surprised is all,” she reassured him, still processing the new experience.

“Well, I think you taste delicious. In fact, we can go for another round if you need me to prove it to you,” Spencer teased, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Ahhh,” Y/N covered her face with her hands, embarrassed but pleased. “No, I need a breather.”

Spencer chuckled softly, pulling her hands away from her face and kissing her forehead. “Take all the time you need. I’m just happy being here with you.”

Y/N smiled, feeling the warmth of his affection. “I’m happy you’re here too, Spencer.”

Spencer cuddled up to Y/N, and she felt his bulge against her side. She hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Oh, um, do you need some help with that?” she asked softly.

“What? Oh no, you don’t need to do anything,” Spencer replied, his voice a bit strained.

“I want to,” Y/N insisted, her eyes meeting his.

Spencer's eyes softened, and he nodded. “Okay, then yeah, baby, you can touch me.”

“Okay,” Y/N breathed out slowly, trying to calm her nerves.

“Have you been with anyone before?” Spencer asked gently.

“Yes, but I don’t want to talk about that right now,” Y/N replied, her voice firm yet kind.

“Of course,” Spencer said, respecting her boundaries.

“Just, kiss me. Please.”

“With pleasure,” Spencer whispered, leaning in to capture her lips.

Y/N reached down into his pants and grabbed Spencer’s cock, feeling its smooth, heavy weight in her palm. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, already beginning to pant against her mouth. The sensation of her touch sent shivers down his spine, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth with renewed fervor.

As Y/N stroked him, Spencer’s breathing grew more ragged, his body responding eagerly to her touch. He moaned into her mouth, his hands gripping her hips tightly. Y/N’s grip tightened each time she got close to the head, which made Spencer blurt precome continuously. 

“Y/N… you’re driving me crazy,” Spencer managed to say between breaths.

She smiled against his lips, feeling a surge of confidence and desire. “I want to make you feel good, Spencer.”

“You already are,” he panted, his eyes dark with need.

Y/N’s movements became more deliberate, her hand sliding up and down his cock with an easier slide due to the pre cum he was producing, eliciting deep, guttural moans from him. Spencer’s body tensed, his muscles straining as he fought to hold back.

“Y/N… I’m so close,” he warned, his voice trembling.

Y/N took her hand away quickly, not wanting it to be over. “What? Y/N, why did you do that?” Spencer spoke quickly in a higher pitch, his frustration evident.

“I want you inside me,” Y/N said, her voice filled with need.

“Oh my god, okay, yes,” Spencer responded, his eyes widening with desire.

Spencer quickly took off the rest of his clothing, his heart pounding in anticipation. He looked at Y/N, his eyes searching hers. “How do you want me?”

“I want to look into your eyes,” she replied softly.

Spencer nodded, positioning himself above her, their bodies aligned. He paused for a moment, looking deeply into her eyes, his hand gently caressing her cheek. “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice tender.

“Yes,” Y/N breathed, her eyes locked onto his.

Spencer entered her slowly, both of them gasping at the sensation. He moved with deliberate slowness, savoring every moment, their eyes never breaking contact. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, and they both felt an incredible connection, deeper than anything they had experienced before.

Y/N wrapped her legs around Spencer’s waist, pulling him closer, encouraging him to move faster. Spencer complied, increasing his pace, their bodies moving in perfect harmony.

“Spencer,” Y/N moaned, her hands gripping his shoulders.

“You feel so good, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, his movements becoming more urgent.

They continued to move together, their breaths and moans mingling in the air. The intensity built, the pleasure growing with each thrust. Spencer could feel himself nearing the edge again, and he could tell Y/N was close too.

“Y/N, I’m so close,” Spencer gasped, his voice strained with pleasure.

“Oh god, Spencer,” Y/N moaned, her eyes wide with desire.

“You gonna let me finish this time?” he teased breathlessly in her ear.

Y/N nodded frantically, the thought of Spencer finishing inside her and filling her up driving her crazy. She brought her hand up to his back, dragging her nails down, scratching him up. Spencer groaned wildly, loving the pain.

“Fuck… I’m coming,” he moaned, his body tensing as he thrust into her one final time.

Y/N felt Spencer’s cum filling her up, squelching out of her as he continued to thrust gently through his orgasm.. The sensation has her crying out, her body shaking with pleasure.

They clung to each other, their bodies trembling from the intensity. Spencer buried his face in Y/N’s neck, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Y/N held him close, her fingers still tracing patterns on his back.

As the waves of pleasure began to subside, Spencer lifted his head to look into Y/N’s eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

Y/N smiled, her eyes shining with affection and satisfaction. “My pleasure.”

Spencer gently rolled to the side, pulling Y/N into his arms. They lay there, basking in the afterglow, their bodies still intertwined. The bond between them had deepened even further, and they both knew they had found something truly special.

“I’m sorry we never made it to dinner,” Spencer said softly, a hint of regret in his voice.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We can go another time… if you still want to see me after this,” Y/N replied, not meeting his eyes.

“Are you kidding? Of course I want to see you again. This was not just a one-time thing. I really like you, Y/N,” Spencer said earnestly.

“I really like you too,” Y/N replied, her smile radiant, now looking into his beautiful brown eyes.

They shared a long, tender kiss before deciding to order takeout. After they ate their food, they settled on the couch and put on Doctor Who reruns.

Y/N nestled into Spencer’s side, her head resting on his shoulder. “So, tell me, what happened in those fanfictions? Which character taught you how to please a woman?”

Spencer laughed, a bit embarrassed. “Well, there were a few. But I think the one that stands out the most was a story where the Doctor and Rose... um, let’s just say they had some very detailed adventures.”

Y/N giggled, her fingers tracing patterns on his tummy. “I see. I’ll have to thank those fanfiction writers someday.”

Spencer blushed, shaking his head. “I never thought I’d actually use any of that knowledge.”

“Well, I’m glad you did,” Y/N said, looking up at him with a playful smile. “You certainly know what you’re doing.”

Spencer’s blush deepened, but he couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m glad I could put them to good use.”

By the time the credits rolled on the last episode, they were both feeling a deep sense of contentment and happiness. Spencer held Y/N close, feeling grateful for the connection they had found.

“Thank you for tonight, Y/N,” Spencer said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Thank you, Spencer,” Y/N replied, snuggling closer. “I’m really glad you stayed.”

They fell asleep in each other’s arms, knowing that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

—

Weeks had passed, and Spencer and Y/N had already had their first, second, third, and fourth dates. They were now officially boyfriend and girlfriend, but they had only told Derek, wanting to keep their honeymoon bubble intact. Life was sweet, and their bond had only grown stronger with each passing day.

One afternoon, Spencer was walking down the hallway when he overheard JJ talking to a random FBI agent. She was speaking in a low voice, thinking no one else could hear her.

“I just don’t get it,” JJ said, her tone laced with bitterness. “What does he even see in her? Y/N is just so… plain. She’s not even that interesting. Spencer deserves someone better.”

Spencer felt a surge of anger and hurt on Y/N’s behalf. He couldn’t believe JJ was talking about Y/N like that. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he stepped forward, making his presence known.

“Excuse me, JJ,” Spencer said, his voice firm and controlled.

JJ jumped, her face flushing with embarrassment as she turned to see Spencer standing behind her. The random agent quickly excused himself, sensing the tension.

“Spencer, I… I didn’t think–,” JJ stammered, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Think? That’s the problem, JJ, you didn’t think. And I didn’t realize you had so much hatred towards my girlfriend. I have to say, I’m really disappointed in you, JJ. Y/N is an incredible person, and she deserves so much better than the petty, jealous remarks you just made,” Spencer said, his voice steady and firm.

JJ’s face turned a deeper shade of red. “Spencer, I didn’t mean—wait, girlfriend?”

“Yes, JJ, Y/N is my girlfriend,” Spencer replied, his eyes narrowing.

“You picked her over me?” JJ asked, her voice a mixture of shock and hurt.

“Over you? JJ, you weren’t even an option, on my radar, or in the running! You have Will and Henry!” Spencer exclaimed, his frustration clear. “You have a family, JJ. Y/N is the one I’ve chosen to be with because she makes me happy, and I care about her deeply.”

JJ’s eyes filled with tears, and she looked down, unable to meet Spencer’s gaze. “I… I’m sorry, Spencer. I didn’t realize how much she meant to you.”

Spencer took a deep breath, trying to calm his emotions. “JJ, I need you to understand something. Y/N is important to me, and I won’t tolerate anyone speaking badly about her, especially not someone I consider a friend.”

JJ nodded, wiping away a tear. “I get it, Spencer. I’m really sorry. I let my jealousy get the best of me, and it was wrong.”

Spencer’s expression softened slightly, though his disappointment remained. “Just remember that, JJ. Y/N hasn’t done anything to deserve your disdain.”

“I understand,” JJ whispered. 

Spencer nodded, feeling a bit of the tension ease. “Good. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

As he turned to walk away, JJ called out softly, “Spencer, I really am sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

Spencer paused for a moment before responding. “I hope so too, JJ.”

Walking back to the bullpen, Spencer felt a mix of relief and sadness. He caught Derek’s eye, who gave him a questioning look. Spencer nodded slightly, indicating that everything was handled. Derek gave him a supportive smile and a thumbs up.

Returning to his desk, Spencer felt the weight of the confrontation lift a little. He knew he had done the right thing by standing up for Y/N. Their relationship was worth protecting, and he was determined to make sure it remained strong, no matter what obstacles they faced.

—

JJ, feeling a mix of shame and desperation after her confrontation with Spencer, decided she couldn’t continue working at the BAU. She needed a fresh start, away from the tension and the unspoken feelings that had now come to light. With a heavy heart, she made her way to Hotch’s office, determined to ask for a transfer.

Without knocking, JJ opened the door and walked in, only to be met with a sight she hadn’t expected. Hotch and Emily were in an embrace, their lips locked in a passionate kiss at his desk. They broke apart abruptly at the sound of the door opening, both of them looking startled and embarrassed.

“JJ!” Hotch exclaimed, his face turning a deep shade of red. “I—uh, we—”

Emily stepped back, smoothing her hair and trying to compose herself. “JJ, we didn’t realize—”

JJ held up her hands, her own embarrassment mixing with the turmoil of her emotions. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just… I need to talk to you, Hotch. It’s important.”

Hotch cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Of course, JJ. What is it?” He nodded at Emily, silently signaling her to leave.

Emily walked out of the office, flushed, embarrassed, and nervous.

Derek, noticing her discomfort, raised an eyebrow. “Wow, Prentiss. You look like you’ve seen a ghost. You good?”

Emily tried to shake off her nerves. “Wanna get a drink?”

“It’s 10 am,” Derek pointed out, though his tone was more curious than disapproving.

“Okay,” Emily replied, clearly in need of a distraction.

Derek chuckled softly. “Yeah, alright. What about Hotch?”

“He’ll understand,” Emily said, glancing back at the office door.

As they headed towards the break room, Derek couldn’t help but probe a bit more. “So, what happened in there? You and Hotch seemed pretty cozy.”

Emily sighed, knowing she couldn’t avoid the topic forever. “It’s… complicated, Derek.”

He gave her a supportive smile. “Hey, whatever it is, I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

Emily nodded, feeling a bit of the tension ease. “I know. Thanks, Derek.”

The two agents walked to a nearby bar. Emily got them a pitcher of beer and they found a quiet corner to talk.

Derek poured them both a glass, then leaned back, looking at Emily expectantly. “Alright, Prentiss, spill.”

Emily took a deep breath, taking a long sip of her beer before speaking. “After the club night, Aaron and I slept together, and we’ve been secretly seeing each other ever since. JJ just caught us.”

Derek’s eyes widened in surprise. “You and Hotch? Seriously?”

Emily nodded, a mix of anxiety and relief on her face. “Yeah. It just… happened. And we’ve been trying to keep it under wraps because, you know, the team and work dynamics and all that.”

Derek took a moment to process the information, then let out a low whistle. “Wow. That’s... a lot. But, hey, I’m happy for you guys. You both deserve to be happy.”

Emily smiled, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thanks, Derek. I really appreciate that. It’s just been so stressful trying to keep it a secret, and now with JJ finding out…”

Derek nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, I get it. But you know, JJ will come around. And the rest of the team? They’ll support you.”

Emily sighed, feeling a bit lighter. “I hope so. I really care about him, Derek.”

Derek reached out and squeezed her hand. “If Hotch makes you happy, that’s all that matters.”

Emily nodded, grateful for Derek’s support. They clinked their glasses together and took a drink, the weight of their secrets feeling a little less heavy with each passing moment.

—

After finishing work, Spencer found himself unable to wait to see Y/N. On impulse, he decided to show up at her townhouse unannounced. He knocked on her door, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves.

Y/N answered the door, looking surprised but pleased to see him. She was dressed casually in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, her hair tousled and face free of makeup. She looked completely undone, clearly not expecting visitors.

“Spencer! What a surprise,” she said, stepping aside to let him in.

“Hey,” Spencer replied, his eyes taking in her appearance. He thought she looked absolutely beautiful, her natural state only enhancing his feelings for her. He couldn’t help but stare at her with a dopey, lovesick, contemplative expression.

Y/N noticed his intense gaze and felt a bit self-conscious. “What’s going on, Spencer? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Spencer snapped out of his reverie and smiled. “Sorry, I just… you look beautiful. I couldn’t help but stare.”

Y/N blushed, a smile spreading across her face. “Oh, stop. I look like a mess.”

“To me, you look perfect,” Spencer said sincerely.

Y/N felt a warm flutter in her chest at his words. “Come on in. Make yourself comfortable. Want something to drink?”

“Sure, thanks,” Spencer said, following her into the living room. He took a seat on the couch, still watching her with that same affectionate gaze.

Y/N brought him a glass of water and sat down beside him. “So, what brings you here unannounced?”

Spencer’s expression turned serious, and he took a deep breath. “I wanted to see you, and… there’s something I wanted to tell you.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed with concern. “What is it, Spencer?”

“It’s about JJ,” Spencer began, his voice hesitant. “Today, she was talking to another agent, and she said some really hurtful things. I overheard her, and I confronted her.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “What did she say?”

“What she said isn’t important,” Spencer said, a mixture of anger and sadness in his voice. “She was jealous and bitter, and she didn’t realize I was standing right behind her.”

Y/N’s heart sank. “I see. What did you do?”

“I defended you. I told her that you’re my girlfriend and that I care about you. I made it clear that I won’t tolerate anyone talking badly about you, especially not someone I consider a friend,” Spencer said firmly.

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but she managed a smile. “You did that for me?”

“Of course I did,” Spencer said, taking her hand in his. “I care about you so much, Y/N. I won’t let anyone come between us.”

Y/N squeezed his hand, feeling a surge of love for him. “Thank you, Spencer. That means more to me than you know.”

Spencer leaned in and kissed her gently, his lips lingering on hers. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Spencer,” Y/N whispered, her heart swelling with emotion.

[freyito]

ɢᴏᴛᴛᴀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴʏᴛɪᴍᴇ

✭ pairing(s): calcharo x gn reader

✩ inspo: I'd Have You Anytime by George Harrison

★ summary: You decide your boyfriend is being too moody.

✧ a/n: I WANNA SAY THANK YOU ALL FOR SUCH THE KIND WORDS AUGHHH I'VE BEEN KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY TwT... i've got some little event cookin up for 700 followers, don't you worry...

BUT ANYWAYS i've been chipping away at wuthering waves... it's pretty fun !! kuro games also just make banger. games. so... the character designs are sooo yummmyyyy and of course i had to write a little fic for my (second) favorite... sephir-- i mean calcharo.

🗒 cw: gn reader, short n sweet, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 781

Calcharo’s not necessarily the most affectionate boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. You are the stars that pepper the sky, the calm and wholeness of a stream running within a foggy forest, the night that beckons him into comforting arms. You are his everything. And he is, unfortunately, not the best at expressing that. But he is loyal.

He tends to hide within himself, too spun up in his own thoughts to pay more attention to the world. Not that he isn’t hyper-aware of his surroundings, he has to stay alert, after all. But he tends to stress himself out quite a bit like this, worried about the Ghost Hounds, those he had sworn to protect, and so forth. It seems the only time those worries fade away is when he’s in your arms. You’ve started to notice a slight slump in his shoulders, how his face relaxes into more of a neutral expression rather than a frown, and even how his voice sounds a tad… lighter.

Today, he is rather moody, choosing to brood and pace around the house, worrying about menial things. The pacing is a little annoying, but every time he lets out a sigh or a frustrated grumble, you can’t help but feel your heart twist. There isn’t much you can do, you know that, and the man will always have his worries. It is human nature to worry, and perhaps Calcharo is more human than he likes to think.

He opens his mouth to protest again, perhaps question you as to why you’re so determined, but you shut him up real quick, cupping his cheek and pressing a quite tender kiss to his lips. That shuts his mind up quick, you can tell by the way his stern demeanor melts away, returning the kiss after a couple seconds.

When you break apart, his eyes have softened, and his body relaxes once more. He lets out a soft sigh as if this is what he had been waiting for all along. You aren’t quite satisfied with your work, though. It’s been too long since you’ve had time with Calcharo in general, so why not revel in it?

You press a kiss to his nose bridge first, lips lingering for a second longer before pressing another to his cheek, then his forehead, then wherever you can kiss him. He doesn’t move or complain or push you away, simply closes his eyes and lets a soft blush dust his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It’s such a rare sight to see this man blush, and the fact that he isn’t doing whatever he can to hide it from you is impressive.

You continue your torrent of kisses, leaving no span of skin unkissed, untouched. He lets out a low rumbling sound and a scoff, which is close enough to a laugh you can get it, and you don’t mind. Not one bit. He has no idea what to do with his hands for the next minute or so, placing them on your hips at first but then ghosts over your ribs. For once he feels… awkward. He’s barely used to you making advances, not that he necessarily leaves room for them. Given his reserved nature, he had done most of the leading in the relationship. You thought it would’ve been best to go at his pace, after all. But he had never felt awkward during these years with you.

You finally stop kissing him, pulling away to look down at him. He’s still blushing, hair just a little more disheveled than usual, and the possibility of a smile tugging at his lips. A rare sight indeed, you oughta pat yourself on the back for doing that to him.

“Too much?” You ask, your voice cracking with mirth as your hands settle on his shoulders.

“... Not enough.” Calcharo responds bluntly, despite the slight wavering tone in his voice.

The man finally understands what to do with his hands, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you down on top of him. You are practically nose-to-nose with him, and can’t help but giggle, which he responds in kind with a soft huff.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[moonlight-prose]

dreams unwind, love's a state of mind

a/n: i am posting the prompts i'm doing for challenges a bit late cause i haven't been here. but this is my first ever days of future past logan fic and i am nervous! i originally planned to do it in the 70s but then an even angstier idea hit me. and honestly i'm kind of in love with how it turned out. this isn't as much smut as i intended, but who cares. enjoy!

tuna-tober 2024: day eleven - tears + "i'd be lost without you." + breast worship

summary: they told him to change the future, to right the wrongs that the world caused. but he didn't do it for them. he did it for the chance to see his lover one more time. even if he shared a different history than them.

word count: 2.1k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MDNI 18+ ONLY!! angst, fluff, reuniting, tears, grief, logan has ptsd, mention of death, love, breast worship, body worship, biting, dry humping, they almost get it on in an empty classroom.

He never felt his heart beat this fast. A rapid thud, thud, thud against his ribs as he took long strides through the halls. His eyes scanned each corner and passing student for the sight of someone familiar. Logan didn't have any worries that you would be unrecognizable. He didn't worry that you were different.

His soul would know you from miles away—the connection that tied you to him stronger than his will to survive.

No matter what Charles told him. He didn't go back for him or Jean or Storm. He didn't fight to change history just to get a chance to save his family. That remained only part of the reason. Logan survived—he clawed his way through the past—for one sole purpose. He would finally get a second chance; he'd get to see you smile again, hear you laugh, feel your lips against his.

Going through hell became worth it if it meant getting the opportunity to have you in his arms.

Students pushed past him on their way to lunch. Several greeted him with a term he would have to grow accustomed to—professor—others tossing him a warm hello before they scurried by. He seemed to have a solidified life here. The promise of peace in a world that once ripped him in two. He wasn't just the Wolverine in these hallowed halls.

He was Logan Howlett too.

"Baby!" he called, running down the empty hallway towards the set of classrooms. "Princess are you here?"

Charles directed him in his mind, pushing images of moments he couldn't recall to the front of his mind. Smiles hidden in secret during meetings packed in a too small office. Touches that you hoped went unnoticed through training sessions and meals in the dining room. Jokes about the two professors who snuck into each other's rooms at night for months on end, long before they finally decided to move in together.

Time he'd never get back. Memories that never belonged to him in the first place.

Would you like this version of him? The Logan that had seen far worse, who endured a war, who held your dying body in his arms as a battle went on behind him. Would you love the scars that ran just a bit deeper? The pain that lingered for far longer than you deserved.

Fear gripped his heart at the thought of anything other than your love. He wouldn't survive a life spent without you. He went through that once and every day felt as if his soul was being torn from his body. Each gruesome wake up to move places and fight for mutants who may never make it out alive, became lifeless—colorless—because you weren't there.

"C'mon baby," he muttered, turning in a circle, his chest heaving with gasped breaths. The air seemed to be stripped clean of your scent, no mark of your existence filled the mansion as it once did.

He felt his body seize—the familiar numbing ache trickling down through his body.

No reason to live resided in his heart if you weren't here to spend it with him.

"Princess!" he practically shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls. "Fuck. You gotta be here. You gotta–"

"Logan?"

The soft lilt of your voice forming his name on your lips punched him in the chest, effectively stealing whatever breath he clung to. He whirled around, eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears, as you popped out of the classroom door behind him. He'd never seen such beauty until today. A wash of relief flooded his body, the weight on his shoulders landing on the floor with a heavy thud.

He drank in the sight of you with a smile. The curve of your hips in a too tight black and white pinstripe pencil skirt, the way your white button down rolled at the sleeves hugged your breasts—the black lace bra faintly evident against the sunlight that streamed through the windows. He devoured you with his gaze alone. Yet the hunger still persisted. It ate at his heart, begged him to move, to gather you in his arms.

But for the life of him...he was unable to gain control of his limbs.

They were stuck. Frozen against time as you moved a bit closer, your black heels clicking on the hardwood floors.

You looked exactly the same. Though some differences lay in the style of your hair, the red lips painted deep and enticing, the glasses tucked into the front of your shirt, Logan felt as if you were ripped right from his memories.

His girl. His princess.

"Baby," he murmured, doing what he could to catch his breath.

Your eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed as you regarded him with a flash of concern. "Is everything okay? Charles let me know you were looking for me."

The mention of the man's name forced him to finally move. What little of Charles still lingered in the back of his mind quickly retreated—the mission to find you now complete. This was his way of giving the both of you some privacy. A chance to reconcile with the woman he thought he'd never see again. Logan thanked him silently, promising to speak after all was said and done—after he got a chance to hold you for the first time in nearly a decade.

"You're here," he sighed, his feet moving faster than either of you expected.

"Of course I'm here. I had a class to teach. Quantum mechanics, well actually more a study of molecular physics today. I thought I let you know at breakfast–" His hands gripped your waist roughly, pushing you back into your empty classroom with a growl. "Logan!"

His foot shut the door, hand blindly fumbling for the lock, as he dragged you against his body with his other arm. An explanation would be given later in the dark confines of your shared bedroom. He'd explain it all to you, every gruesome and grave detail. All the questions he knew swirled inside your head—ever the curious woman he fell hopelessly in love with.

But right now he'd have you on the nearest desk (preferably yours). In this fleeting moment he would reclaim what was so brutally taken from him; the love he felt now pouring out from every part of his body. Beating in tune with his erratic heart.

"What are you doing?" you gasped, hands pressed against his chest to steady yourself. "Is everything okay? Are you hurt?"

His stomach fluttered, the sensation of being on cloud nine now a reality the longer he looked at your pretty form. Hands quickly roamed his shoulders and arms as you checked for any injuries that might appear at a moment's notice. Nevermind that he healed quicker than any other mutant in this school. Nevermind that he stared at you with an expression that could only be described as awestruck.

You still did what you felt was necessary to ease the growing worry in the back of your mind.

"'M more than okay baby." The low rasp of his voice forced your gaze up to his within seconds. A soft oh echoing in the empty room.

No explanation was needed when he looked at you with pupils that devoured the hazel of his iris. You knew what he wanted—could feel the desperation in his tight grip. The thickening sweetness of your scent curled around his senses like a drug, filling his body with a need that permeated the air.

"I missed you," he breathed. "So much."

Logan wished there was a way to convey how much anguish his heart went through in the years after your death. The nights spent yearning for your touch. The memory of you passing onto a plane he couldn't follow burned onto the back of his eyelids. He couldn't escape what happened.

Death was an easy option for him. A choice he would have made in the blink of an eye. But the laws of his own being were unable to be severed. He'd never be able to join you—forever stuck in a world without your light.

He longed to tell you all of it, but feared he might fuck it up.

"You saw me a few hours ago," you grinned.

"God I wish that were true."

Your mouth parted, eyes overflowing with worry, and Logan could no longer fathom a moment without your kiss. Dipping down swiftly he slotted his lips against yours with a groan. His hands gripping any plush part of your body he could reach. Unable to stick to one spot because there was so much of you he missed. The feel of your ass in his hands as he gripped you close, how you blissfully sighed into his mouth, relenting to his hold.

Kissing you felt as if he gained back all the years he missed out on. The time he thought was unsalvageable.

The feel of your tongue pressing against his drove him over to the edge of madness. A feral moan coated in a gravel hoarseness ripped from his throat, his fingers squeezing your body to drag you even closer. He sucked on your bottom lip, licked into your mouth with whimpered broken sounds, and refused to stop even when you pulled back for air.

"W-We're in a classroom Logan," you gasped, high-pitched and layered in a neediness that matched his own.

"I don't fuckin' care."

"I don't want to get caught–"

Sucking your tongue into his mouth with a grunt, he began to walk until the back of your thighs hit the grand desk you sat at. The plaque of your name now lay with a pile of papers that landed on the floor. He groped your breasts, tugging the buttons until they popped free—scattering across the room with soft pings.

"My shirt!"

He grinned. "I'll help ya find them later, princess."

"You're not fucking me here. We have a room for a reason." The words were accompanied by a moan, your head tipping back to give him the expanse of your neck.

Space he happily began to sink his teeth into. He sucked at your skin as he pulled at your bra, his thumbs running across peaked nipples that practically begged for his attention. An act he was more than happy to partake in. With a grunt, he sucked one into his mouth, spit smearing into your soft skin with the promise of making a mess wherever he could.

"F-Fuck," you panted, fingers ripping at his hair as your hips canted up into his. "What's gotten into you baby?"

He answered with a deep grind of his hips into yours, the sticky precum practically drowning his cock in the confines of his jeans. Self control wasn't his strongest ability at this very moment. Not when he could feel the heat of your cunt call his name. He'd be surprised if he lasted long enough to sink into you—to finally indulge in the warmth of your body.

Teeth dug into the side of your breast, his hands tugging your cunt along his jeans as tears pricked his eyes. Losing you wasn't the worst part of all of this. Not being able to remember the last time he felt you this way—the final day of joy in your relationship before it happened—would forever haunt him. A memory he should have solidified in the back of his mind slipped free before his very eyes.

How did you smile at him? Was it a stolen moment by firelight? Were you smiling just to appease his growing anxiety about losing you? Or did you feel a flicker of joy?

For the life of him...he couldn't bring that moment to mind.

"Logan?" Your hands tugged his head back, thumbs wiping away tears he didn't know started to fall. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

He grinned, broken and marred and bleeding all the love his weary body could muster. "I'd be lost with you."

You paused, disbelief shrouding your features. "What are you talking about baby? Did something happen?"

The time to reveal it all would be now, but how could he move past this? Your breasts were free and coated in his spit, your eyes were darkened with wanton lust. To him you would never look more beautiful. Entirely disheveled, yet still willing to help him by any means necessary.

You would always be—and forever remain—the other half to his scarred soul.

"I'll tell you later," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your wrist. "I'll tell you everything."

"But–"

He shook his head. "Lemme have this. Okay? I need this."

A discerning smile crossed your lips as he leaned in for another kiss, his body pressing you down until your back hit the desk. This certainly wasn't how he envisioned your reunion happening. A quickie in the confines of an empty classroom that you'd eventually teach in a few hours later. But Logan couldn't fathom waiting. He'd spent years pining after a soul that might never walk the same ground as him.

A brief moment of bliss. A short forever in the allotted time.

This was something he could steal for himself.

[xxchumanixx]

Healing together

Tim Bradford x reader

Warnings/Tags: smut, 18+ mdni!, p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), oral (fem receiving), fingering, fluff, angst, hurt, comfort

Word count: 4.731

Authors note: Hello guys! I know I said I'd be uploading another story (actually two), but I had this idea all of a sudden and I just couldn't let it slide. So I had to do it first. Get ready for some naked time with Tim Bradford!

Enjoy!

That, was not how your day had been supposed to go.

Not at all.

Being in the middle of a crimescene, staring at your ex-boyfriend - Yeah, it definitely wasn't supposed to go like that.

It should have been a normal day - you should have went to work, did your job, before going home, cook, shower, sleep.

Simple as that.

But when a colleague from work had been killed in the middle of the day, causing the whole place to be crowded with police and forensics, the day had begun to shift.

Slowly, the simple things became complicated - being crowned when you spotted a familiar face amidst the officers: Tim Bradford.

Sucking in a breath you tried your best to hide, which wasn't that easy given the open parking lot you currently were at.

But he didn't seem to have seen you yet, calming your racing heart down a little.

Your break-up with Tim was nasty.

You weren't compatible anymore, your interests and goals for the future having shifted completely, going into different directions.

That didn't mean that you didn't love him anymore, but when you gave him the choice - either his career or you - he took the career.

You didn't exactly blame him for it, but he broke your heart. Now, years later, you couldn't help but notice that he looked even better than before.

Scolding yourself for thinking this way, you shook your head. He shouldn't be of interest for you, not after all this time.

But he was.

So, when someone cleared their throat behind you, you froze.

"Ma'am, we would like to get a statement from you." You knew his voice, it still haunted you in your dreams - you would have recognized it from anywhere.

Turning around you did your best not to look too suspicious. Sending him a crooked smile his eyes widened, mouth agape as the pen in his hand almost slipped from his grasp.

"Y/N." he carefully said your name, like he was testing it on his tongue after all these years. "Tim." you gave back, swallowing.

The woman beside him - according to her name tag she was officer Chen - looked between you in confusion.

"You know her?" she wanted to know, pen pointed at you. "Yeah..." he returned, eyes fixed on you. "Briefly." you cut in, noticing how his mouth twitched at the statement.

"We were in the same class in academy and she used to work for the LAPD." Tim explained.

"You're a cop?" she asked, sounding almost excited. "I was." you corrected her, biting your lip.

"I was, until a case went wrong, sending me to the intensive care unit for almost three months." "You nearly died." Tim added, shaking his head the slightest bit. "If the bullet had hit a millimeter more to the right he would have hit your heart. Not that it would have been the only bullet, though."

Swallowing at the memory you nodded slightly. "Yeah, the scars remind me everyday of my almost day of death."

Chen bit her lip. "I know that feeling." she mumbled. "Been buried alive. That psycho tattooed my DOD on my ribs."

Your brows rose high at the horrible time she had to have went through, eyes widening. "Officer Bradford saved me." she explained, motioning at Tim.

Nodding you felt a familiar tug at your heart. "He uses to do such things from time to time." you told her, trying to hide how your voice trembled.

"Y/N!" he shouted your name. It sounded strange through the blur and the fog in your head. "Stay with me! Keep your eyes open, you hear me? Y/N!"

Blinking rapidly, you had to get away from him. His presence opened wounds that never managed to heal.

"What are you doing here? I thought you went to New Orleans?" Tim wanted to know, tilting his head slightly as his brows furrowed. Your lip twitched - you had barely been in New Orleans for a year.

It was beautiful, but it wasn't LA.

"I'm back, have been a few years now, actually." you explained, fingers tugging at lose strings on your pants. You just had to grab the one with holes in it, hadn't you?

Why even buy overpriced pants with holes, anyways?

Shaking that thought off, you continued. "I'm working here, the one who's murdered was my colleague. Although I contemplated going back."

"Back to New Orleans?" He almost sounded alarmed, but you shook your head. "Back to the police."

That must have alarmed him even more, as his eyes widened significantly.

"I've got an offer from Grey." you explained, tugging a lose strand of hair behind your ear. Tim swallowed, nodding.

"So you two were rookies together?" Chen inquired, smiling. "How was he back then?"

Clearing your throat you looked at her. "He was ambitious, eager." you explained. "A little reckless."

Tim's brows rose at your words. "I was reckless?" he wanted to know, huffing. "We were both reckless when we decided to be-" he cut himself off, already having said too much.

But Chen was clever, as she caught on to what he wanted to say.

"Wait, you two were together?"

Rolling your eyes you looked away for a second.

Damn him and his mouth - even when the memory of what his mouth was able to do made you blush.

Not what you wanted to think of in that moment, though.

"We were." you confirmed, nodding as you looked back at her. "Didn't work. It's history, nothing more."

Tim swallowed, it was so loud that you could hear it.

His gaze wandered over the crimescene, before it fixed on his rookie. "Boot, could you get a statement from this man over there?" he asked, pointing somewhere, though it wasn't really a question.

Chen knew that as well, nodding.

"Was nice to meet you." she spoke, before she turned around and headed for the man Tim pointed at.

Cocking a brow you looked up at him, as his gaze fell back on you. "What?" he asked, brows furrowing. "You did that on purpose." you replied, giving him a pointed look.

Sighing he stuffed away his pen and notepad, nodding. "Yes, I did."

Biting your lip you contemplated to run.

You didn't know what he wanted to talk about, but if he sent his rookie away, he wanted to do exactly that.

You knew him.

Sighing, you decided to stay. It would have only looked suspicious if you ran - they didn't need to falsely arrest you, because they thought you were the murderer.

Biting down on your cheek you waited for him to begin.

"You look good." he spoke hesitantly, a small smile gracing his lips. Nodding, your brows twitched. "Did you tell her to go just so you could tell me that I look good?" you gave back, tilting your head.

"No, I... I'm just surprised to see you, that's all." he admitted, looking down for a split second. "After we... separated, I didn't see you again."

Huffing, you crossed your arms above your chest. "What did you expect, after you broke my heart?" you returned, holding his gaze, even as his eyes averted at your words.

"That I could continue like nothing happened? I couldn't stay, because that meant I'd have to see you everyday, so I quit and went to New Orleans. But it wasn't LA, so I came back after only a year. I kept in contact with Wade and Angela, but that's it."

His brows knitted together. "I don't know if I should be more surprised about you being on first name basis with Grey or you staying in contact with Lopez."

Shaking your head you looked down.

"What are you trying to do here, Tim?" you asked quietly, looking back up. The sun was already setting, shining straight onto your faces, highlighting all of his contours.

Sighing deeply, his gaze fell back on the crowd of people around you. He seemed unsure, hesitant.

"I never got the chance to apologize." he finally spoke, looking down, before his gaze fell on you, as your brows furrowed. "I chose my career, but I later realized that I was wrong. I could have had both and I made the mistake of choosing only one thing."

Shaking your head at his words you felt the anger bubble up. You had suppressed it for so long, that it was hard for you to hold it back now.

"Are you serious?" you wanted to know, taking a step closer, as your eyes narrowed at him. "Angela mentioned that you married - only two years later. Surely your career didn't stand in the way when you did."

He looked like you just slapped him in the face.

"I know." he gave back. "I didn't want to do the same mistake again. But then I did another one. She got addicted, and I didn't intervene at first. Only when she left one night I realized that I fucked up again. I didn't see her for two years, but now she's clean."

Biting your lip you nodded slightly.

"Bet you must be happy now." you said, feeling sorry for her. "We're divorced now." he returned. "It's only a few months ago. But it's better that way."

"Oh." you made, looking away, now feeling guilty, as the anger slowly faded. "Angela didn't tell me. I mean, not that it's my cup of tea, but I'm sorry for you."

He nodded. "Thank you, but I'm okay."

Nodding as well, you didn't know what to say. Luckily, he did.

"You should get home, get some rest." he told you, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, I don't know." you gave back, biting your lip. "My car is at the workshop, I got here with the bus, but that won't get here, now that this is a crimescene. I don't know how I'll get home - I guess I'll just walk then."

His brows furrowed. "No, you're not going home on your own." he disagreed, shaking his head. "We still don't know who did this and the suspect could still be close by. I'll drive you."

"What? No, you don't have to do that. I can protect myself." you argued. "I bet you have a lot of work left to do here anyway, not to mention your rookie."

But he shook his head, not having it. "She'll drive with someone else." he told you sternly, before walking towards her.

Mouth agape you stared after him, not sure if you were ready to be alone in a car with him just yet.

When he came back, you couldn't believe that he really was able to just go, drive you home.

"Come." he spoke, walking towards his police car. Still shocked you followed him, knowing that you didn't have another choice. He wouldn't have let you go alone, no matter what you did.

You sighed, when you sat down in the passenger seat. You missed sitting in the shop, the familiar smell and feeling causing you to feel homesick.

Tim started the engine, as you buckled up. Leaning back in the seat your fingers brushed over the door. You had sat so many times in the shop, and after all this time of being no cop anymore, you finally felt at home again.

The drive was silent for the first few minutes, after you told him were you lived.

The silence was heavy, neither one knowing what to say now that you were alone.

"Are you planning on taking Grey up on his offer?" Tim broke the silence, looking at you, before his gaze went back out on the street.

"Before getting in the shop I wasn't sure - but now... It feels like I'm home again. All this time I missed something and I know now, that it was this job."

He nodded, swallowing.

"I took that from you." he almost whispered, and you swore you saw his eyes glisten. "Because of me you gave up your dream. I don't know how I'll ever be able to make up for it."

Biting your cheek, you considered if you should tell him that he couldn't make up for it. But you decided against it.

If you really wanted to get back, you shouldn't stay angry at him. You should at least try to forgive him, no matter how long it would take.

"I'm sure you'll find a way." you quietly told him, looking out your window.

Parking in front of your house, it was already dark. He cut the engine, getting out, before you could have stopped him.

Following him to your front door you hesitated. "Won't you get into trouble for driving me home?"

He shook his head, as he stopped at the door, as you did the same. "No, I can explain my absence." he told you, looking down at you. "I just wanted to make sure that you're getting home safely."

Feeling your heart hammer in your chest, you nodded. "Okay, then thank you for driving me home." you spoke, looking up into his eyes. "Yeah, no problem." he mumbled, staring back.

You felt how you became hot, hearing your heartbeat in your ears at his intense stare.

Slowly, he inched closer, his head leaning in your direction. Your breathing faltered, as you did the same.

His breath fanned over your face and you swallowed, before his lips finally met yours.

Something inside you exploded, as you tasted his lips for the first time since your break-up.

They fit together like they were made to be, his hands finding your hips, guiding you closer. Your arms wrapped around his neck, as you pressed yourself impossibly closer to him.

Your lips devoured each other, his tongue brushing your bottom lip and you let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance, your combined breathing ringing in your ears.

Your heart burst at the feeling, as the kiss grew more heated.

Fumbling for the key, all your worries were suddenly gone. Trying to open the door blindly it took you a few tries, before you heard the familiar click. Pushing the door open, Tim didn't waste any time as he pushed you inside.

He closed the door behind him, before his hands grabbed your face, guiding your lips back onto his.

He pushed you against the nearest wall, your back hitting it almost painfully, as his hands roamed your body. Grabbing your thighs he gave you a sign to jump - and so you did.

Your legs wrapped around his middle, pulling him closer. His lips traveled down your chin to your neck, sucking at it until he found the spot that had you moaning.

Using the advantage he brushed off your jacket, letting it fall to the floor, before his hands found your hips again. They wandered under your shirt, eagerly touching your skin.

"Where is your bedroom?" he wanted to know breathlessly. "Upstairs, first door on the right." you explained, out of breath as well.

He didn't hesitate to grab you, before he walked to the stairs with you in his arms, showing no signs of trouble as he took them, all the while kissing you as he blindly made his way up.

When he reached the door he pushed it open, only breaking the kiss to locate your bed, before he let you fall down on it. Catching your breath, you pulled your shirt over your head, watching him as he took off his jacket, followed by his shirt and the one he wore under his uniform.

He was breathtaking.

His muscles were more defined than they were back then, making him even more geogous. Unbottoning his pants, you did the same, stripping out of them, before throwing them off the bed.

When you were left in only your underwear, he was back on top of you, his lips taking yours. Lying down on your back his body pressed against yours, his clothed cock pressing against the inside of your thigh.

Sucking down your neck, he again found your sweet spot, earning a moan from you as he sucked on it. Your hands brushed through his hair, as your back arched.

He took the opportunity to open your bra, discarding of it on the floor.

Kissing down to your breasts, his lips found your left nipple, sucking it into his mouth. You yelped in pleasure and surprise, tugging at his short strands. His tongue circled around it, before it flicked over it.

You moaned when he lightly bit down on your nipple, before letting go of it with a wet pop, giving your other one the same attention.

The wetness between your legs was almost getting too wet, the knot in your belly already forming just because his lips were around your nipple.

Letting go of the other one he went further down, trailing kisses down your stomach, until he reached the hem of your panties. He looked up at you, before he kissed your clothed pussy, causing you to suck in a breath.

He was so unnaturally hot.

Chuckling at your reaction, his fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties, before tugging them down, letting them drop on the floor as well.

Then he pushed your legs back, opening them until he could see his precious price. Kissing your thighs he took his time, causing you to squirm.

You could feel him grin, his hot breath fanning over your heat. Without a warning his tongue licked up your pussy in one stripe, causing your hips to buck, as you moaned loudly.

His tongue went down on you, licking through your folds, flicking over your clit, before his lips sucked it into his mouth.

Your hands found their way back into his hair, fisting it as much as you could with its length, earning a groan from him. It vibrated through your pussy, making you moan in return.

His thumb brushed over your clit, as his mouth let go of you, his eyes finding yours. He drew figure eights on your bundle of nerves, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head, gasping for air.

His thumb was soon replaced by his mouth again, as he slowly pushed a finger inside you, after gathering some of your arousel to wet it.

You moaned, as he started fingering you, all the while pleasuring you with his tongue. When he added a second finger, stretching you, your back arched off the matress, as you pulled his head even closer.

The knot in your stomach tightened almost painfully, as his fingers fell into a steady rhythm. He brought you right to the edge, and when you looked down at him, your eyes finding his, you fell.

Screaming his name, you came. He didn't stop though, taking everything you gave him, as he rode you through your high.

When you came down it, he removed his mouth and fingers, wiping over his mouth, that glistened from your arousel, before he leaned up, kissing you.

Tasting yourself on his tongue you groaned, palming him through his briefs. He twitched, as he gasped for air, before his lips were on yours again.

Tugging the briefs down his legs, he let them fall to the floor, his cock painfully hard. It poked at your entrance, making you all the more eager to finally have him inside you.

His lips left yours, as he pointed at your night table. You nodded, before he opened it and took out a condom, before sitting up a little. He rolled it down his shaft, before he lay back on top of you.

Kissing you again he guided his cock to your entrance, slowly pushing the head inside.

Moaning you clenched, making him hiss. "Fuck." he breathed. "You're so tight." Smirking you pushed in his direction. He slowly eased forward, until he was buried to the hilt.

Breathing heavily you leaned back into the cushions, needing a moment to get used to him.

His lips brushed your cheek, as he waited for your go. Nodding, you signaled that you were ready.

Slowly, he pulled back until only his head was inside you, before thrusting back into you hard. You yelped, toes curling at the sensation, as he did it again and again, slowly becoming faster.

You fell into a steady rhytm, your hands gripping his bicep with his arms at either side of your head.

His eyes found yours and you sucked in a breath, moaning his name. "Fuck." he swore, biting his lip. "Do that again." Your cheeks flushed. "Tim!" you moaned his name again and he groaned, his thrusts getting harder, deeper.

You wouldn't last long if he kept this up.

Your breasts bounced, and he kissed down them, circling your nipples with his tongue.

Your hands found his hair, tugging at it almost painfully at the sensations. The knot in your belly tightened again, as you brought his mouth back to yours.

He thrust into you vigorously, his pelvis brushing your clit, sending sparks up your body and making your toes curl.

"I'm gonna cum soon." you told him inbetween moans, biting your lip. One of his hands gripped one of your legs, giving you a sign to wrap them both around his middle.

Doing as you were told you felt how he reached even deeper, earning a moan from you both.

His thrusts gained speed, as one of his hands found your middle, his fingers brushing your clit. You twitched under him, as he started to rub it, driving you towards the edge in highspeed.

You were so close to bursting.

"Tim!" you breathed, trying to focus on his face. "I know." he gave back. "Come for me."

With a scream of his name you stumbled over the edge, him following closely as your pussy clenched around him.

He rode out your highs, before he stilled. Breathing heavily your eyes were closed, needing a moment to come down from the best orgasmn you've had in the last few years.

When your eyes opened again they met his, as he brushed a sweaty strand of hair out of your face. You smiled, still feeling a little high.

He returned the smile, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

Time stood still, as you enjoyed this moment in silence.

Still a little out of breath he rolled down from you, his back hitting the sheets as he lay down beside you.

"Fuck..." he mumbled. "That was..." "Amazing." you finished for him. "Yeah..."

You lay in silence as you slowly caught your breath, him discarding of the condom, before lying back down. But as the high faded, something different bubbled up.

Feelings, that were so deep buried inside you, suddenly pushed back up. Gasping, you tried to suppress the tears -failing horribly as a sob broke through.

"Y/N!" Tim called out your name in worry, sitting up. "What happened?" Tears streamed down your face, as you sat up as well.

"Why couldn't it just have been fine?" you wanted to know, causing him to furrow his brows in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Why couldn't we just have been happy back then?" you returned, wiping your face.

He fell silent, as he knew what you meant.

Crying silently you suddenly felt ashamed. You shouldn’t have been crying over the past, but you couldn't help it. After all that happened, you still loved him.

"After you've been shot, almost dying in my arms..." he began, breaking the silence, as his gaze fell on the sheets. "I built this shield around me, that was supposed to prevent a situation like this from happening again. I almost lost you, an event that traumatized me so badly... For a very long time I tried to convince myself that what I did was right."

He sighed, and you swallowed, biting your lip as more tears fell.

"When I married Isabel, I tried to prevent something like this, but I failed - again." he continued. "She was undercover, getting addicted. I didn't know how to help her and to be honest, I don't believe that there was actually a way I could have helped. If anything, I made it worse. It reminded me of us. I relived the events from when you were shot, nearly dying. You lost so much blood that they had to revive you - two times. Knowing that it was my fault, knowing that you could have died because of me - something inside me broke. So when I built this shield, and you asked me to go with you - I was scared that it would follow us. I was scared that you'd be in harms way, because of me. So I chose the job."

Sobbing, you tried to understand what he just told you.

"It wasn't your fault." you told him, wiping your face, even though it was useless. "Yes it was! If I-" he wanted to argue, but you cut him off. "No, Tim! It was not your fault! It was mine!" you shouted, pointing at yourself.

"I was sloppy that day, I didn't sleep enough, wasn't feeling well. And if I hadn't hesitated when trying to shoot the attacker, he wouldn't even have had a chance to get me. It wasn't your fault, do you hear me? Nothing of this was on you, Tim."

His mouth was open, eyes red from the tears he tried to hold at bay.

"You never said that you didn't feel well." he realized, swallowing. "If you would have told Grey, you wouldn't have even been there in the first place."

Nodding, you bit your lip, absentmindely brushing over the scar on your chest with your fingers.

"Yes, but i was so eager to get that job done." you explained. "Nothing would have stopped me from going out there, so stop blaming yourself. Please, Tim."

It fell silent again, as your tears slowly subsided.

All this time you had suffered, because he thought he was at fault for your accident. He blamed himself, even though it wasn't his fault at all.

When he suddenly scooted closer, his arms wrapping around you with his chin on your head, you heard him sniff. Leaning against him you breathed his familiar scent, your heart bleeding as he cried.

You could have had it all. Could have lived a happy life. He could have married you instead of Isabel, who ended up getting addicted, breaking his heart.

You had both suffered so badly.

And as you sat there, both crying over the past mistakes, you made a decision.

You would forgive him.

After all, he did what he did to keep you safe - even if he broke his own heart in the process as well.

After a while he shifted, looking down at you. His eyes were red and a little puffy, but yours didn't look any better.

"I shouldn't have let you go." he told you, wiping away the remnants of your tears. "When you asked me to go with you, I should have said yes. I shouldn't have pushed you away, out of fear that I might lose you if I didn't."

Shaking your head, you sniffed. "I shouldn't have made you choose." you gave back. "I ran away from my fear, but it didn't work. I should have stayed and tried to heal, instead of running."

He breathed deeply, his hand on your cheek.

"I want you to know that I never stopped loving you." he admitted, holding your gaze. "Not even when i was with Isabel."

Smiling through another wave of tears coming up, your hand lay on his. "I never stopped loving you, either." you returned, a happy feeling spreading through you.

It tickled your veins, warming you from the inside.

He smiled as well, blinking as a tear fell on his cheek.

"Can we fix this?" he asked, hope shining in his eyes. "I think we did already." you gave back, causing him to sigh in relief.

"Will we be together, after this?" he questioned further. Swallowing, you wiped at your eyes, before responding. "I would love nothing more."

He kissed you. It felt different, free.

Like it should be.

"I love you." he spoke, kissing your cheeks. "I love you too." you returned, a giddy feeling spreading through your entire being, smiling broadly.

"And I promise that I'll never leave you again." he added, swallowing, as he looked into your eyes. "You'll never get rid of me again."

"I wouldn't want to."

[desolateyears]

Have a mini fic about Steve annotating books and Eddie finding it really hot🖤

So obviously, Eddie's a bookworm. Before he had any friends, he spent the better parts of his childhood at Hawkins Library after school and Hawkins Middle's library during any recesses and lunches. He constantly read books, this was before Wayne got him a guitar and before he got into dnd, and being a bookworm tremendously helped him fuel both of those hobbies later on. But before then? The library was like a second home to him. 

And so, recently founding out that Steve reads, like a lot, is something of a revalation. It's not that Eddie thinks the guy is stupid, but he figured the guy spent time doing other productive hobbies at home. But the guy reads, and as previously mentioned, Eddie considers himself a literature connoisseur of sorts. Writing book reports and essays were one of the few things he actually excelled at in high school. 

So anyway, he found out that Steve is a book nerd by finding one of Steve's books open on his bed. Not really the strangest thing that Eddie's come across in Steve's room if he's being honest, and not the biggest indicator of nerdiness, until he focuses his attention and acknowledges the bright colors sprawled across the pages. 

A burst of rainbow colors underlining what Eddie guesses are his favorite parts of the story or important stuff he wanted to remember. And obviously, Eddie has to ask him about it. and Steve explains to him that he has a whole color key and it's made up of romantic lines that make him feel warm, sad stuff that makes him tear up, stuff that is word for word undoubtedly Steve Harrington sprawled on a page. Steve won't tell him which color is which, too embarrassed by it, but he lets Eddie read through them, and then he stares at Steve in unyeilding fondness. 

The look reflected on Steve's is not the same, mostly anxiety and insecurity, which Eddie immediately wants to soothe. It's so so sweet he thinks but Eddie's mouth translates the words into, "That's so fucking hot." Which, shit man, it is but he hadn't meant to say it out loud. 

"Shut up, dude, don't make fun of me right now." 

And listen, books are everything to him, this is no joking matter. They inspire his own stories, whether through a dnd campaign or writing song lyrics. It's honestly probably the most attractive thing a person could do in Eddie's opinion, he didn't know how hot until right about now, but he'll die on this hill. Annotating your books is hot. 

"Listen to me when I say this Steve, while that is the nerdiest thing I've ever heard and I'm, ya know, me. It's also about the most attractive thing that's come out of that pretty mouth of yours, like ever."

And Steve folds his arms across his fucking beautifully sculpted chest and narrows his eyes just slightly, raising a judgemental eyebrow at him. 

"You're being serious."

Oh he's never been more serious about anything in his life. 

"Uh...yeah? Yes. Oh my god."

Yeah, real eloquent Edward. 

Whatever, his heart is pounding profuesely against his rib cage because holy shit Steve is a book nerd and Eddie wants to kiss him fucking yesterday. So he gets on all fours on Steve's bed to lean forward and basically attacks his mouth before he can even think about it. 

And when he pulls back, Steve's pupils are blown wide and his breath has picked up pace, and Steve keeps bouncing between looking at Eddie's eyes and his lips. 

"You just kissed me."

It comes out disbelieving. 

"Yeah and with your permission I'd like to continue, like stat, immediately, now."

"You're insane."

And hands weave through curls and pull. 

Eddie tumbles foward, ending fully sprawled on top of Steve, and, jesus christ, body pressed impossibly close to his. 

And after they're romantic, read: nerdy horniness, little makeout session, he forces Steve to read the annotations himself, going through all the books that are important to Steve. He has to stop himself from moaning to really emphasize how hot he finds it, and to make Steve slightly embarrassed, but refrains. Just lets him continue. 

Eddie has never been so in love in his life.

[lupinmoonlight]

oh if lupin had caught me reading smut about him during his class i think i would have just avada kedavra myself out of embarrassment 😭

Red-handed

Masterlist AO3

Summary - Professor Lupin catches you reading a smutty story about him. He keeps you after class and makes you touch yourself on his desk as he watches (1,642 words).

Warnings - Professor/student, reader masturbating, age gap, jerking off, cum on clothes, mentions of embarrassment, some "good girl", orgasm control, very slight edging, my grammar (english is my second language), not proof-read.

Notes - This fic was inspired by anon! It was a lot of fun to write! I would be so mortified haha. The fic I am referring to in this fic is Sinful if you guys are interested.

You sat in the back row, your quill idle, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Your eyes weren't on Professor Lupin but on the parchment concealed within the pages of your textbook. You had been careful, oh so careful, not to let anyone see what you had been reading, but the pull of the forbidden words was irresistible. 

You continued reading, your eyes captured by the elegant, looping handwriting that described a scenario that would make even the dirtiest minds squirm. 

A string of curses fell from his lips, "Ah, fuck..." he moaned as thick ropes of warmth spilled onto the lace of your skin, hot and sticky.

Your cheeks burned with a blush that you prayed no one would notice. You were so engrossed in the sinful text that you didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching your desk. 

"Y/N?" Lupin's voice pulled you back to the reality of the classroom, and your heart skipped a beat. "Is everything alright? You seem...distracted."

You snapped the book shut, but it was too late. Lupin's hand was already extended, palm up. "May I?"

Your hands trembled as you handed over the parchment, your eyes fixed on your desk as you muttered, "I'm sorry, Professor. I was just..." 

Lupin unfolded the parchment and his eyes quickly scanned the page. You didn't need to look up to know when he reached the passage you were just reading; the slight hitch in his breath was giveaway enough. For a moment, the room was utterly silent except for the frantic pounding of your heart resonating in your ears. 

When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of something you couldn't quite identify. "I think we should discuss this...after class." 

You nodded, your mouth dry, unable to form words. 

The remaining minutes of the lecture stretched on interminably. When it finally ended, you remained in your seat, frozen, as your classmates filed out. The door closed behind with the last student with a soft click, leaving you alone with your Professor. 

"Come," he simply said as he climbed the short staircase to his office. 

You stood up, your legs feeling wobbly, and followed him. It felt like the longest walk of your life despite his office being only a few meters away. 

"Please, take a seat," he gestured towards a chair facing his desk. 

You sat, clutching your hands in your lap. 

Lupin leaned back against his desk, his demeanor markedly different from the gentle, approachable Professor you were used to. His eyes, usually warm and understanding, held a depth of seriousness and a flicker of something that looked like...hunger. Something you had never seen in him before. He unfolded the parchment and handed it to you. 

"I'd like you to read a passage for me," he said, his voice low and steady. 

Your hands trembling, you took the parchment. You glanced at the text, your face heating up as you felt like you had lost the ability to speak. 

With a low growl, his hips began moving on their own accord, the desperate grind of his arousal evident in his every movement...the friction, the heat of your body, was intoxicating...

As you read, your cheeks burned with embarrassment. You couldn't believe you were reading these words to Professor Lupin himself. You dared not look up at him, focusing solely on the parchment, absolutely mortified.

"That's enough," he said softly, stepping closer to where you sat. He studied you for a moment, his gaze traveling over your form perhaps a moment longer than necessary, making you squirm uncomfortably. 

"Do you enjoy these stories, Y/N?" he asked, his tone more curious than accusatory. 

Your eyes darted to the floor. "I...I supposed I do, Professor," you admitted, your voice a mere whisper. 

He stared down at you, making you feel like a small, cornered creature perched on the edge of the chair. He tilted his head slightly, a faint hint of a smile playing on his lips. He was enjoying this. 

"Look at me," he commanded gently. 

Reluctantly, you lifted your eyes to meet his. There was no judgement there, only a thoughtful curiosity tinted with something you could only describe as lust. 

"And what is it about these stories that you enjoy so much?"

"I-I don't know, Professor," you stammered.

"You don't know? That's unfortunate...I thought perhaps you could show me," he continued, taking the parchment from your hands. 

"Professor, I-" but before you could finish your sentence, he swiftly hauled you up from the chair and placed you on the edge of his desk, standing right between your legs. 

"Was this part of the story you were reading, Y/N?" he asked, his voice low as he leaned in.

You could only shake your head, the tone of his voice going straight to your loins. 

"Do you want to stop?" he continued as he tilted your chin to look into your eyes. 

"N-No, Professor", you whispered. 

With a low growl, his hands traveled under your skirt, gripping your thighs, pulling you closer. You could feel his arousal pressing against you through his trousers. 

"I want to watch you," he commanded in a husky voice. "Touch yourself for me." 

Your mind went blank. You hesitated, your eyes darting nervously around the dim office before settling on him. His gaze was intense, demanding, and you weren't sure if you were going to combust or simply pass out. 

Tentatively, you slid a trembling hand between your thighs, feeling the dampness of your panties as you pulled them aside to give your fingers access to your heated core. A slight gasp escaped you as you made contact. 

"That's it," he encouraged, his hands starting to unbutton his trousers to free himself from the constricting fabric. You dared looking down, your eyes landing on his hardened length. At the sight, your hand started to move slowly, your fingers dancing in a way you were oh so familiar with. 

He tightened his grip on your thigh, his other hand gripping himself firmly, beginning to stroke in tandem with your movements. "Show me how you like it. Show me what you do when you read those stories about me." 

You responded to his commands, your fingers moving in slow circular motions over your sensitive spot, your breathing growing ragged. The sight of you, spread out on his desk in your uniform and touching yourself at his command, only intensified his arousal.  

"What a good girl," he praised as he continued to stroke himself slowly. "Is this what you do when you're alone? When you think about me?" 

You nodded, your cheeks turning a beautiful shade of pink as he watched you intently. Your movements grew more and more frantic, pathetic whimpers escaping your lips.

Your eyes darted to his, instinctively seeking some kind of permission. He could tell you were close, on the verge of falling apart. 

"You want to come?" he teased, delighting in the desperate whimper you gave in response. "Not yet," he warned, drawing out the pleasure and anticipation. "You'll come when I say so. Do you understand?" 

"Y-Yes, Professor," you whimpered, your eyes closing shut as you fought against the impending climax. 

Watching you, Lupin's grip on himself tightened, the pace of his strokes increasing as he felt himself nearing the edge too. "Beg for it," he commanded suddenly. 

Your body trembled, your movements growing faster. You were dangerously close and you didn't think you could hold back any longer. The only response you could give him was a desperate whimper. 

"You can do better than that. Come on, use your words," he teased, his grip on your thigh now bruisingly tight.

"Please, P-Professor...I can't...I need..." you stammered, unable to form a cohesive sentence. 

He watched you, taking in every twitch of your body, every flutter of your eyes, every ragged breath you took. It was a sight to behold, your desperation to obey him, even as your body yearned for release. 

"Now," he finally growled, his voice strained, "Come for me." 

Your body arched in pleasure, your fingers working frantically, soft moans escaping your lips as you fell apart on the desk. 

The sight of you, so undone, combined with the sound you made as you came was almost his undoing. He leaned closer, his breath hot against your neck, and stroked himself furiously. 

"Ah...fuck," he cursed loudly as the tension finally snapped. After a few hard strokes, his climax tore through him, his seed shooting forth, splattering all over your school uniform in thick, warm strands. He continued to move his hand, his hips jerking reflexively as he milked every last drop of his release.

You were both panting, chests heaving from the intensity of what had just transpired. He took a moment to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours. 

Covered in him, you looked up at your Professor, trying to recover from your own release. Lupin pulled back slightly to take in the sight of you. 

"That's a good girl," he murmured, "All messy in your uniform..." 

You looked down, the contrast of his white seed on your dark skirt was stark, and it made you feel like you belonged to him, like you were his. 

With a gentle touch, his clean hand reached out, his fingers carefully lifting your chin, coaxing your gaze to meet his. 

"Now, remember to save your reading for after class," he advised, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that hinted at a leniency his words didn't fully express. 

"Yes, Professor," you responded, a small, bashful smile playing on your lips.

[professional-yapper]

Attention

Aonung x Omaticaya! Reader

Summary: Aonung doesn't understand why you won't pay him any attention

Warnings: Aonung, reader's kind of mean if you squint, favouritism towards Rotxo (not a warning more of a given), mention of Aonung getting threatened and punched, reader being violent, Aonung being delusional and irrational and entitled, Aonung getting the fuck bit out of him, hes in the wars today, penis in hole sex

"Forest brat!"

You groan internally, gritting your teeth, not looking up from the top you're making for yourself. Aonung. Probably coming to harass your sibling again, like he didn't learn his lesson the first time.

The memory of his stunned face after you punched him square in the nose warms your heart.

He should've known better. Right from the get-go, you made it clear you weren't going to tolerate any shit from him.

And yet here he was, somewhere behind you, calling you forest brat like you hadn't threatened to carve your name into his chest so his family would know who killed him.

"That's not my name, fish boy," you reply serenely, not turning around, threading another pearl onto your top. "What are you doing here, anyway? Did your daddy make you come apologise for being a jerk?"

"Maybe I'd actually apologise if you weren't so mean to me," Aonung pointed out, sitting down beside you with a bump and stretching out in the sand like he owned the place. Well... you guessed he kind of did. Or his parents did, anyway.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you drawled sarcastically, keeping your eyes on your work. "Maybe I wouldn't be mean to you if you hadn't bullied my siblings and I from the day we set foot on this stupid reef."

"I don't bully you," he countered.

"Because you're scared of me."

"No, I am not!"

"Aren't you?" you asked, glancing at him, mouth curving into a sharp smile.

"Shut up," he huffed, rolling onto his back and covering his face.

A few minutes passed, the only sound being the clink of the pearls against each other as your top formed slowly under your patient hands and the sigh of the sea.

"What's that?" Aonung began, right as you said, "So why are you here?"

You stared at each other for a moment before you rolled your eyes. "I'll go first. Why are you here if not to apologise, Aonung?"

"Bored."

"Oh, I didn't realise my only purpose in life was to entertain you."

"Would it kill you to be nicer to me?" he whined. "You're nice to Rotxo."

"Rotxo doesn't harass my siblings because they don't look like he thinks they should."

Aonung gives you a look, and you relent with a sigh, recalling how Rotxo had been the first to point out your tails. "Well, he realised the error of his ways, anyhow. You haven't." You poked his forehead for good measure.

He caught your hand in his, looking up at you with something of a smirk, like he enjoyed getting under your skin. "If I did realise the error of my ways?..."

You ignore how warmth sparks in your chest at his touch. "I still wouldn't give you the time of day. You're not appealing to me as a person, regardless of whether you're a bully or not," you reply calmly.

He groans and lets his head flop back on the sand, letting go of your hand. "You're killing me, forest brat."

"One can only hope. And why are you so desperate to be around me, anyway?"

"I'm not. I said I was bored, and you never pay me any attention."

"Oh," you grin, glancing down at him, poking him in the ribs. "You're jealous of Rotxo."

"Not just him," Aonung corrected but didn't deny it.

A flush began in your cheeks at how shamelessly open he was with you. You knew your siblings thought Aonung was whipped for you and that was the only reason he'd stopped bullying them, though you still thought he would at the drop of a hat, and even Rotxo and Tsireya had implied Aonung had a thing for you.

And here he was, lying in the sand close to you, whining that you didn't pay him enough attention. Unbelievable.

"You're so incredibly entitled, Aonung," you said severely. "Where do you get the nerve to even talk to me?"

Aonung's mouth curved into a lopsided grin. "Comes naturally."

You rolled your eyes. "So why is my attention so valuable to you?"

Aonung shifted, looking deliberately anywhere but at you. "I said it's not. I'm just bored."

"Can't you bother Rotxo or any of your dumb friends?"

"I wanna be here with you."

You blinked at the bold statement, staring at his face for any signs of insincerity. "What an odd thing to say," you managed finally, your heart rate picking up the longer you gazed at him.

"Is it?" he hummed, rolling onto his side, resting his chin in his hand as he looked up at you, ears angled forward playfully. Then his eyes strayed to the half-made top in your lap. "That's pretty. You'll have to model it for me when you're finished," he said lazily, touching it lightly with his fingertips.

You sucked in a breath, turning your flushed face away as his fingertips grazed your thigh. Accidentally, surely. "Not fucking likely. I still hate your guts."

"Yeah?" he mused, eyes focused on the top. "I like that."

"Great Mother," you cursed, pushing his head away. "Quit acting like that."

"Like what?" he said, looking rather pleased with himself, tail wagging a little across the sand behind him.

"Like you're drunk," you scoff at him, rolling yourself away. Trying to, at least.

He's fast for someone who's been acting drunk for the past few minutes. He rolls with you and then he's on top of you, pressing you back into the sand, forearms either side of your head and knee nudging between your thighs. "I'm stone cold sober," he chuckled in your face, eyes flashing, fangs curving over his bottom lip as he smiled.

For once, you have nothing to say, staring up at him, chest heaving and slick pooling between your thighs even as you try to ignore it.

"You look good beneath me," he commented, gazing down at you. "Should be like this more often."

"Aonung," you breathe, hating how wobbly and desperate your voice sounds. "What are you-"

"This," he cut you off. "This is what I'm doing." His mouth presses against yours, tongue sliding between your lips- lips that are slack with surprise, though not entirely opposed to your current situation, given the heat building in your stomach.

You moan, arms sliding around his neck, arching into him as he licks into your mouth, practically devouring you like a starving man. "So fuckin' beautiful," he sighed, nipping at your bottom lip playfully.

"Shut up," you hissed bashfully, turning your face away.

"Oh, yeah, now you're getting defensive?" he teased, pressing his knee against your loincloth. "Think I can't feel how wet you are for me? Soaking right through your loincloth just from a little kissing." He laughed a little then pressed a warm kiss to the corner of your mouth, looking at you with an expression that makes your stomach twist. "Still hate me now?"

"Decidedly," you sigh, pressing up against him as he slides an arm around the back of your shoulders, holding you against him as he begins to lay wet kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

"Oh, yeah, I believe that," he murmured, grazing his fangs along your collarbone as you whined. "Come on, beautiful, give it a rest."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"You not fighting me every step of the way and letting me fuck you like we both want?" he grunted, shifting himself to pull off your loincloth and his. "I think that'd be great."

"Tough-" you began, then choked on air as his stiff cock nudged at your hole, making your hips buck up into him.

He hissed at the contact, pressing his face to your neck and holding himself still for a painfully long moment, both of you shivering.

You couldn't believe this.

You were mere seconds away from getting absolutely rawed on the beach by the Metkayina prince. Out in the open, where anyone could see. And you didn't even care, which was probably the worst part. Or maybe the worst part was that you wanted him so fucking bad, even if he was a bully and a dick and a great big whiny baby to boot.

Then he pulled back a little, looking at you intently, tracing your face with his fingers in a gesture that was so tender it hurt. "You want this?" he breathed.

"Yes," you replied raggedly, and slowly, painfully slowly, he slid into you, one hand tracing down the back of your leg to hook it over his hip, allowing him to reach a depth inside you that made you see stars.

You whined, throwing away your dignity in favour of pleasure.

"Fuck," he grunted against your jaw, rubbing his cheek against yours- scenting you, you realised, and the realisation that he was fucking claiming you made you lock your leg tighter around him without thinking, arching into him impossibly, trying to bury him so deep inside you he wouldn't be able to pull out. "Fuck, you're so good, so tight, fuck-"

"Aonung," you whimpered, ignoring how pathetic that sounded as your nails gouged red lines into the backs of his shoulders.

"You markin' me up?" he huffed, pulling back slowly before beginning to thrust, long, slow, deep strokes that punched the air from your lungs and reached every sweet spot inside you and then some. "Want everyone to know, huh?"

"Shut up," you whined, throwing your head back.

"Shut me up," was his only response before he took matters into his own hands and kissed you again, slower this time, gentler. "Great Mother, you're so good, gonna make me come already-"

He took his time, despite your best efforts to get him to fuck you harder, fucking into you slow and sweet, bringing you towards an orgasm as slowly as he could, kissing along your shoulders and collarbones, holding you so tight your body was practically molded to his.

"Ao- Aonung-" you choked, clutching at him as the familiar sensation approached. "I'm go- I'm gonna come, fuck-" Your legs locked around his hips, making it near impossible for him to thrust, but he managed.

"Yeah, me too, beautiful, I got you-" he gasped against your throat, hips stuttering against yours, cock pulsing inside of you almost painfully.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you moaned shrilly, fangs glancing at his shoulder before you sunk them in properly, vision whiting out as you came the hardest you've ever come in your fucking life.

"Oh, fuck," Aonung whimpered, thrusting one last time and burying himself as deep inside you as he could, head falling limp against yours as you clenched around him, his seed coating your walls in pulses.

You both remained in that position for a long while, until your post-sex-hazy brain cleared enough to register the taste of blood on your tongue, and the warm blood trickling down your chin.

You immediately released him, jerking your head backwards, body stiffening in fright. "Shit, Ao-"

Aonung just whined at the loss and the way you clenched around him anew, still entirely lost in pleasure. "Quit moving, I can't come again, I'll die," he groaned against you.

"No, idiot," you said, touching his shoulder tentatively. He hissed as your fingers came into contact with the savage bite, ears flattening. "Your shoulder."

Aonung, grizzling and whining like a little kid, twisted his head to try and see. "'S hot," he concluded, shrugging and trying to kiss you, the movement making his cock twitch inside you again.

"It could get infected!" you insisted, holding back a moan.

"Oh, shut up about it and let me hold what's mine" he grunted, shifting backwards, slipping out of you, then flopping down on the sand on his back and pulling you down with him, tucking you into his side.

"Oh, I'm yours now?" you said, immediately distracted, trying not to smile like an idiot.

He squinted at you. "You reek of me and currently have my come so deep inside of you it's practically in your guts. Yeah, I think you're mine."

"Fuck, you're vulgar," you sighed, curling into him and resting your head on his chest.

"You'll live."

This was not meant to be a smut like at all @wjehfshs heres more dumb himbo Aonung I hope it's ok 😭

[evanbuckleyrecs]

Any recommendations on hurt-comfort Buddie that will make you cry? HEA please!

I started to answer this but accidentally clicked on a Tumblr link so I gotta start over 😂

I haven't read Buddie fics in a while so these are a bit older. (I'm going to catch up soon! I've just been in a phase where I'm either reading Teen Wolf fics or physical books)

Also haven't updated my bookmarks yet. Sadly a lot of great authors I'd normally recommend have turned anti-Buddie since April and I'd rather not promote them in Buddie posts if they're not safe to follow anymore as a Buddie fan.

Please check the tags of a fic before reading in case something is triggering for you!

the things that haunt me in the middle of the night by justhockey

2,4k, rated G

He gasps for breath and it feels like a reflex - like coming up for air after being sucked under. Like a desperate, manic thing.

He’s safe, he knows that. Knows he was never really in much danger anyway. But the sound of it all - the waves, the rain, the crashing and the thundering - it echoes in his head, ricochets through his bones. It lives inside of him, he guesses, even after all these years. That fear, the exhaustion, the crippling terror of finding the surface only to realise that Christopher was gone.

He rubs at his sternum, tries to breathe deeply, tries to blink away the memories of the day the water nearly took everything from him.

I let my guard down by bucksclipboard

6,5k, rated M

"It didn’t stop. Buck went from hoping the packages were from someone special to suspecting someone was toying with him. The hopeless romantic in him was slowly wilting. When he opened the latest letter, suddenly he was not so sure his secret admirer was of the good-natured kind. "

or: who needs police protection when you have eddie diaz by your side?

Cut me slack (I've watched your heart stop) by kat_atthewisco

Rated G, 5,4k

“Well, unfortunately I am calling you specifically for your role as Mr. Buckley’s power of attorney. He does need a couple of decisions made about his care that he’s not fit for at the moment. If you’re able to get here soon that would be best, I can’t tell you much over the phone.” To her credit, Deirdre does sound apologetic, and Eddie’s panic has begun to ratchet back up.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can, is he- please, how bad?” Eddie repeats.

In which Eddie gets The Call from Cedars-Sinai while he's off work thanks to a healing injury. Being Buck's emergency contact is suddenly a very real thing.

Never More To Leave Here by devirnis

Rated T, 10,2k

"Can you remind my brother that we were supposed to get lunch?” Maddie asks.

“Uh sure,” Eddie says slowly, confused. “But why don’t you just call him yourself?”

“I did, a couple times, but he didn’t answer. I assumed he was still with you?”

Eddie thinks back to last night, to Buck specifically making plans to go back to his own place so he wouldn’t be late for lunch with Maddie. Buck had texted him when he got home, just a simple night :) that still made Eddie’s heart flutter, so obviously Buck had made it back to the loft… But there haven’t been any texts from Buck all morning. Not that that is necessarily unheard of, but especially over the last few weeks it’s become rarer and rarer for even a few hours to go by without Eddie’s phone dinging with a message notification from Buck.

A small tendril of worry curls around Eddie’s ribs.

BTHB: locked up & left behind

Diagnosis: Dumbass by snarkymuch

Rated T, 2,7K

Christopher scrunched his face, then stopped rummaging through his pack to grab something from the ground—something that turned out to be his phone.

“No, nope—who do you think you’re calling?” he asked, trying to reach for it, but Christopher had already hit the button, dialing someone—whom he’d bet anything was his father.

Christopher pulled away, out of reach, phone to his ear, then a moment later saying, “Yeah, I’m okay, dad—yeah, I know—no, but he fell out of a tree—”

“He is fine, though!” Buck yelled, hoping to stop the inevitable freakout from Eddie. “Eddie, do you hear me? I’m fine!”

--or--

Buck takes Chris out for a light hike, somehow ends up falling out of a tree, and Chris patches him up while waiting for his dad to arrive.

Presumed Dead by inkonmyheartandonthepage

Rated G, 4,4K

The fresh air was supposed to have been good for Buck. A small hike that he had done a million times. A nice hike that gave him a workout and at the same time allowed him to sift through his thoughts and feelings and to focus on what he really wanted.

Instead, he’s stuck in the middle of nowhere at a rest stop watching some asshole drive away in his jeep.

OR

The 118 crew arrive a fender bender only to find it's Buck's jeep on fire and the body inside dead and burning.

The monsters turned out to be just trees by Ink_Dancer

Rated T, 8,4k

Buck and Eddie are searching for a missing person, and they're already lost in the woods when Buck gets injured and makes their situation a lot more complicated. With the sun going down, they're forced to spend the night outside, with only each other for warmth and shelter.

(set post-buck's recovery from the firetruck, but no other specific time markers. nebulously within the show's canon.)

It's what my rotting bones will sing when the rest of me is dead by heartbeatdiaz

Rated T, 12,4k

"Eddie? Eds, can you hear me?” Buck rubs his knuckles against Eddie's sternum, a little too harsh, a little too desperate. "Eddie!"

Eddie croaks out a weak, barely there, whine as Buck's knuckles do the trick and his eyes open in slits.

"Evan?" He chokes out, his voice so hoarse and raspy that it must have been hurting his throat. "You're real?" He whispers in awe, his hand twitching as his side like he wants to reach up to Buck— touch his face— but he's too weak to do that. Eddie's brow furrowed but a small smile graces his lips, barely there. "I didn't give up. I made it home to you."

or;

the one where a call goes wrong and leaves everyone thinking eddie was dead, buck finds about the will through a letter and comes to some other revelations in the process.

and in which eddie finds his way back home and finally gets to be happy with the love of his life.

BTHB Prompt: Missing and Presumed Dead

Let me go by tawaifeddiediaz

Rated T, 8,1K

For the first time since he met him, he wasn’t sure where Buck was, and it was driving him insane. His shift ended three hours later than Eddie on Tuesdays, and today, he had texted saying that he was going to pick up groceries.

After that, he hadn’t returned back home.

Kindness: What Connects Us by FandomLife54

Rated T, 9,6k

Still off balance, Buck slams his left heel onto the roof, heaving forward to catch the collar of that yellow shirt. And there’s no conscious decision making here. It’s all instinct, and he’s grateful for it. If he’d given his overzealous mind the chance to consider another way, he would have missed his shot. Instead, his arms hurl the boy into the hands of another survivor...

And his right foot misses the edge.

OR

Buck catches Chris before he rolls off the firetruck, and it's him who falls back into the retreating waters of the tsunami. Unconscious and seriously injured, he's unaware that his team has been searching for him, never giving up as the days pass.

A leaf falls on loneliness by iimpossible_things

Not rated, 11,1k

Buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “I’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. Really, he doesn’t. The 118 has too many good, kind people for that.

But every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to Eddie or Bobby or Hen or Chim, he hears Eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.”

—you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting—

So each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence.

And I watched a part of myself die 'cause no amount of freedom gets you clean by himbobuckley

WARNING: rape/non-con. Rated T, 10,2K

Buck goes out drinking after a particularly tragic call and the night takes a turn for the worse when he's targeted and assaulted. Struggling in the aftermath and unsure how to handle it, Buck tries to distance himself from his friends and family, believing that with time he can simply move past it on his own. Eddie notices something is wrong with Buck and desperately tries to get through to his friend, fearing the worst.

or:

Buck goes through the fucking ringer. eddie notices something's horribly wrong. you can contact my lawyer for emotional damages.

or:

“I heard about what happened yesterday,” Eddie says softly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. And that I didn’t know. I should’ve gone out with you, or made you come over, or-”

“Eddie,” Buck interrupts. “It’s- it’s okay. I just went out drinking. It’s fine.”

“Drinking alone?”

“Yeah,” he stammers. “Yeah, alone.”

“Hey listen, why don’t you come over tonight? We can do a movie night. And… I have something to tell you.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” Buck murmurs, feeling the tears welling up again. “I don’t think I can tonight.”

“Hey, wait Buck-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Blue skies by spaceprincessem

36,7k, rated T

“Most babies are born as accidents,” She says suddenly, like she’s decided that Buck has passed, that she can trust him with this.

Buck doesn’t really have an answer because that question hits way to fucking close to home. A year or so ago he would have said, yes, I was an accident, so I know how that goes, but Buck knows better now. Knows that he would almost give anything for that answer to still be yes. Evie’s finger works under the seal to rip it open, a stack of important looking papers dumping out onto the table in front of her.

“Not me,” she says without looking up as she organizes them into a neat stack, “I was engineered.”

And.

And Buck’s pretty fucking sure a giant, cataclysmic hole has ripped right open, dragging him down to the earth’s core where he vaporizes into dust.

{or Buck meets another savior baby and everything comes crashing down}

Leave The Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania

Rated M, 44,4k, fandom classic

“We’re here for our grandson,” Helena says.

“Chris is still sleeping,” Buck says.

“I meant, we’re here to take him back to Texas,” Helena clarifies.

“Yeah,” Buck says. He’s too tired, way too tired to be tactful. “Over my dead body.”

--

An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed.

While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.

Over The Age, Over Again by mintedwitcher

Rated E, 16,5k

EXCERPT:

He would’ve fallen down the cliffside if it hadn’t been for Bobby on the winch. Because that… that’s Buck’s jeep. There’s no denying it, no mistaking it. That is Buck’s jeep. Hanging almost sideways off a ledge, the driver’s side doors flung open with the force of the fall. And further down… no. No it can’t be… a man, smashed against the rocks. A massive pool of blood. But Eddie can see the familiar white sneakers against the dirt.

No Sight For Heart Eyes by znks

Rated E, 20,5k

“Buck, Karen, and Eddie stayed on the couch and talked while the kids settled on the floor to draw. It all felt so wonderfully normal that Eddie found himself forgetting that he hadn’t just closed his eyes in serenity as he leaned against Buck.

That’s what made the spell breaking so painful.

“Dad! Look! I drew the firetru- Oh, wait, it’s okay you can see it when you’re all better!” Christopher said it so cheerfully, not even hesitating before going back to swapping out pens with Denny.

But Eddie felt it like a shot to the chest.

He couldn’t see his son’s drawings.

Buck and Karen had barely paused in the conversation, but Eddie could hear how strained it became, both of them obviously knowing exactly how heartbreaking the moment had been. Buck’s arm wrapped more tightly around Eddie’s waist, chin resting on his shoulder.”

losing your sight for a week sucks but at least eddie has buck to guide him through his healing or at least through his own house

This has inspired me to go read more recent hurt/comfort Buddie fics! I haven't been super active on this account but hopefully I can update this soon :)

[cantwritethetword]

(2024) TickleTober Day 26: Kisses - Spoilers

Fic Descript - Nowhere in their diaries does it mention at what point River finds out the Doctor is ticklish. Unfortunately for him, he assumes she already knows.

~A/N  - Once again, blame @carrie-tate for my Doctor Who resurgence (like look at this and tell me it doesn't fill your heart with joy)

And you can also blame her for a specific line in this fic that she created (and tagged me in which was super cool sdfjkhasfjklh) cause it's GENIUS

Not a super long fic but I actually really love the entire concept for this one hehe, so I hope you all do too.

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @fullsongphilosopher

Masterpost Link 

TickleTober Masterpost

"Running off again?" River called out, as The Doctor pushed open the door to his TARDIS.

The Doctor turned to lean against the doorframe, flashing her a small grin. "Thought you'd expect that by now, you know me."

"I do." She smiled, moving closer so they were mere inches apart. "More than you think."

River pressed a kiss just under the side his jaw, expecting nothing more than a smirk in response before her partner would whisk himself away in his incredible blue box.

But her prediction couldn't have been further from reality, as The Doctor giggled and scrunched his shoulder up between them - making her half-jump away in surprise. River gave him a innocently puzzled look, smiling slightly in endearment at the noise he had made.

"Shut up." He blushed, refusing to meet her gaze.

River laughed, moving herself into his field of vision. "What was that?"

With a groan, The Doctor's face flushed further. "You know what that was!"

River paused, genuinely trying to come up with some recollection of what the last few seconds could possibly have been caused by. "I don't-."

"Oh-... Um- In that case-" The Doctor began to backpedal, but his reaction was only quick enough to realise his incorrect assumption had just landed him in deep trouble.

"Wait..." River smirked, catching on at the perfect time to put 2 and 2 together. "Are you ticklish?"

There it was.

The Doctor broke into a rare, nervous smile. "Uh... No...?" He stated with an unconvincingly low level of confidence.

"Is that so?" She smirked.

"Um-"

"Remind me, what's the first rule of travelling with The Doctor?" River asked innocently, sliding her hand around his torso and casually poising her fingers against each of his lower ribs.

"River!" He squeaked, his hands fumbling over themselves. "I'm not-! You don't-! It's not-!"

River closed what little distance remained between their faces, so once again her lips brushed against his neck. "The Doctor lies."

His shoulders scrunched up, though this time The Doctor put far more effort into resisting any hint of a smile spreading across his face - he was practically vibrating with effort. River slowly traced her fingers over his ribs, relishing in every jump and reluctant snicker that managed to sneak through the cracks in the Doctor's resolve.

"What a rare sight..." She teased, beginning to softly claw her hands over his sides. "The Doctor, left speechless... I never thought I'd see the day."

"RIVER!" He yelped, twisting away from her.

Unfortunately for him, that only led to River wrapping her arms around his waist and fluttering her fingers over his stomach.

Every time her hands touched down it seemed worse than the last time, and so it didn't take long for the Doctor to burst into helpless giggles. It was like she naturally gravitated to each of the most ticklish areas on his body, hitting each spot like clockwork and tearing the poor Time Lord apart.

"Still sure you're not ticklish?" She half-shouted above his laughter.

When he didn't respond, she decided to move her hands down to latch onto his hips.

"NO RIHIVER YOU KNOHOW I CAHAN'T!" He cackled, desperately trying to push her hands off of him.

"What, have we done this before?" She chuckled as her fingers drilled into the sensitive bones.

"SHUHUT UHUP!" The doctor cackled, trying to twist out of her arms.

"Oh Sweetie," She cooed sympathetically, hooking under his arms and moving her fingers up to twirl around his neck and ears. "Does it tickle?"

He curled his shoulders up with a giggle, sinking into her embrace. Although it still tickled like hell, he appreciated the break from his far more ticklish upper body, and at this point was too tired to fight back.

Thankfully, River also seemed to sense his complete exhaustion, and so it didn't take long for her to finally let him free. They both sunk to the floor, with The Doctor lying exhausted in her lap.

"There's no way that was your first time." The Doctor panted, a smile still stuck on his face.

River laughed gently. "And why's that?"

He shot her a glare. "You figured out I was ticklish ridiculously quickly, and then you knew exactly where to tickle me every single time."

She shrugged, but couldn't help the grin sneaking onto her face. "Maybe you're just easy to read."

He rolled his eyes and sat up. "Did you know I was ticklish or not?"

River grinned. "Spoilers."

[imthegayone]

A Broken Rib (drabble)

Summary: You broke a rib during a stunt, earning yourself a scolding by your girlfriend.

Warrnings: mention of bruising? and some errors (reread this maybe twice)

Author's Note: A small little drabble cause I wanted to get something out for you all but these wips are kicking my ass rn. Also this is inspired by an interview where Britney Snow (i think) broke a rib during a stunt where she had to ram against a car to break it's widow and a fic I read a bit ago were Jenna sprains her ankle at work when she's distracted by a video of reader. (sadly I can't find it or I'd link it) Hope you enjoy 🩵

Word Count: 431

________

“You’re never doing that again.” Jenna reprimands a look in her eyes that says there’s no room for negotiation. However, it was an accident, you knew that and she knew that. The stunt was easy, even your manager agreed that you could ram yourself into the car for the scene. It didn’t stop Jenna from worrying though, the second she was told about your hospital visit a nervous pit settled deep in her stomach. 

“Jen.” You groan, you’re in need of sleep and just want to be held in the shorter girl's arms while you watch your favorite comfort movie. “Don’t Jen, me I’m not the one in trouble, you are.” Crossing her arms, you finally notice just how high her anxiety was. Understanding exactly how much stress someone could put themselves under when not knowing the condition of their loved one. You had experienced the same mounting fear when she sprained her ankle on set a year ago.

You sigh, never wanting to make her sick with worry especially when you were fine. “Baby, I’m okay. It’s one broken rib, plenty of people get broken ribs and survive.” 

“I’m just a little sore.” You add, prodding at the growing colors splayed across your abdomen. “And bruised.” Jenna mumbles knowing she’s not gonna get anywhere with you. You grab her hand placing it above your heart. “I’m fine. We got the shot, neither I nor Naomi need to redo it.” 

“She’s doing all your stunts from now on and I mean it.” Jenna gives you her best stern eyes but she knows you, you’re just like her when it comes to things like this. If you can do it yourself then why not? 

“You know I can’t promise that.” Jenna sighs knowing you’re right. She gently wraps you up in a hug, careful not to hurt you further. She’ll have plenty of time to scold you but for now she’d rather get you into bed to rest. “Just take it easy next time, okay? If you need a break, take one.” 

“I will. I promise.” Promising sincerely, your y/e/c eyes boring into her soft brown ones. “Too bad there’s not gonna be a scar though, I heard women love scars.” You tease, breaking the tension.

“Oh my god, please shut up.” Jenna says hiding her face in your neck at your embarrassing statement. Unable to contain her chuckle at your silly excuse for flirting. “I love you, even though you’re a reckless idiot.” 

“Yeah but I’m your reckless idiot.” 

Squeezing her tighter in your hold. “I love you too.”

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Steve Rogers

Summary: It's only your first day on the job. That's way too soon to have an office crush. Right?

Warnings: Workplace stress and bullying. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

A/N2: Shorter chapter but it does move the story forward, I promise!

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

True to his word Steve refrained from overtly interfering with your boss again. Instead he switched to more covert tactics, building a case to take to Nat in HR. Not just the excess time Margaret spent on things other than work but also the emails and messages that could be construed as threatening or bullying.

He was relieved to see you had made a couple friends. Blossom and Spitfire definitely took good care of you. They were also a good excuse to not talk to you. He didn't want to disturb you and your friends. At least that's what he kept telling Bucky whenever you were brought up in discussion.

But Bucky wasn't having it. "Look, let me and Sweetie help you, okay? I'll ask her to come to the party and we can be your backup, okay?"

Steve's face is pink with embarrassment. "I shouldn't need help. And you should focus on having fun with Sweetie."

"And yet," Bucky shakes his head, "you clearly need the help. Just make sure to wear a better costume than last year, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Steve nods. "I'll wear my biker gear, okay?"

"Excellent choice! We'll have the two of you exchanging numbers in no time!"

The party couldn't be going worse. Steve had been maintaining his distance, just watching you have fun, while everyone except you tried to flirt with him. Then Bucky and Sweetie arrived but apparently Steve had misread their relationship and Sweetie had stormed out, Bucky chasing after her. And while he was distracted by that, you and Bubbles had gone missing!

In desperation he approached the Double G's asking if they'd seen where you'd gone to.

"She left with Walter," Geralt informs him. Steve's heart drops.

G smacks Geralt in the stomach, "bad trick." Turning to Steve he adds, "the Powerpuff Girls are escorting Walter to the security desk."

Steve almost faints from relief before he heads to the desk. He wants to run but restrains himself to a fast walk, he doesn't want to appear too desperate. Right? He won't lie, seeing Jake and his family really kicked Steve's heart into gear, reminding him that he does want such things for himself, but he'll never get them if he doesn't try. He doesn't want to get too far ahead of himself, though. He's just so scared because you're so lovely, so smart, so strong and seem to be everything he could ever want but he's likely to scare you away because he's not sure he'll be able to hold back. One step at a time, he chides himself.

He hears a bunch of giggling as he steps out the main entry and stops, caught completely off guard by the sight of Walter in a dunce cap. The two men lock eyes for a second before Walter quickly pulls off the cap and gives Steve a look that says "you saw nothing!" Steve nods in agreement as you and your friends turn to look at who got Walter's attention.

Your heart flutters a bit at seeing the big, tall, handsome blond in a biker getup. Rumor was he did have a motorcycle but you weren't sure this was confirmation. Still, the leather looked good on him. Bubbles pokes your ribs, startling you a bit, before Spitfire chimes in, "you need some help?"

All I can get, Steve thinks. "I, um..." he walks up to you, "I was worried you'd left the party already."

"You...you were looking for me?" Your voice quavers a bit.

"Yeah, um...I just..." Steve takes a deep breath. "Would you like to go out some time?" His words come out in a rush and it takes you a few seconds, and another poke in the ribs from Bubbles, to realize he's asking you out.

"I'd love to!" you almost yell out. You cringe at your overly-enthusiastic response and compose yourself before saying, "that sounds wonderful."

Behind you Spitfire and Bubbles high five, making Steve blush and smile in relief.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen;

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly