#derek would beat his ass

[trickster-shi]

Damn it, I did not need this plot bunny, I really did not. So I’m throwing it out here to curse some of y’all.

[catssluvr]

𝓬𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓮, spencer reid

spencer x shy!r

spencer brings you coffee <3

warnings: mentions of stress? just fluff 🫶🏻

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You sighed as your eyes scaned the paper in front of you, not bothering to take a look at the mountain of files standing at the corner of your table. You were pretty much sure that if you did, your headache - that would soon turn into a migrane - would start showing signs way too soon in the day. 7am was definitely too early for that.

This week was particularly kicking your ass and the only thing you wanted was to go back home, curl into your sofa with some takeout and watch a junkie romcom.

You couldn't help but frown at the empty chair of the table in front of yours that belonged to spencer, it was unsual for him to be this late. Well, technically he wasn´t late but knowing him he would usually arrive 30 minutes earlier.

Before you could think too much about it, Derek´s voice sounded behind you, "You alright, pretty girl?" He asked with one of his teasing but loving smiles plastered on his face.

"Yeah, just tired of paperwork. Hotch knows how to make me get as grumpy as him." You joked with a smile, trying to mask your tiredness.

"Well if you need me to kick his ass just reach out." He joked, looking aroud to make sure there was no sign of your boss before walking back to his desk.

You were about to get back to your paper when you noticed Spencer walking through the doors, clumsly carrying two coffees and what happeared to be a box from the place where they sell your favourite bagels.

You couldn´t help but smile as you watched him take small steps to his table, careful not to spill the coffee. You would have helped him if your mind wasn´t concentrated on how much you miss him lately. Aside from the fact your stomach errupts in a thousand butterflies when you see him, he is the best bestfriend in the whole world and having to cancel friday´s movie night was probably one of your most heartbreaking decisions. You usually wouldnt miss it for nothing but files don´t yet fill themselves alone so it was your only option.

Friday nights were the only oportunity you had to relax completely, Spencer was probably one of the only people that you were completely comfortable around, he understood you like no one else - which leads to the big question: how could you not fall in love with him?

"Hi." His voice interrupted your thoughts, he was now standing beside you with his signature smile, a cup of coffee in one hand and a bagel wrapped up in a paper in the other.

"Hey Spence." You smiled shyly at him, embarrassed for getting caught in your daydream. Gladly, he hadn’t ´t even noticed you staring, him being just as oblivious as you when it came to the feelings you shared for eachother.

"I- uhm- bought you this. I just noticed you haven´t been taking breaks at all, not even for lunch. And if you're not eating enough during the day, particularly carbohydrate-rich foods, you may have decreased levels of serotonin, a hormone that has a calming effect. That increases the chances of getting stressed." He rambled on, not that you minded - at all. In fact, your heart skiped a beat at the thought of him caring so much about your health that he came in late just to buy you breakfast.

"Oh Spence you really didn´t have to. But thank you so much." You grinned sheepishly as you got up from your chair, taking both the coffee and bagel from his hands and setting it on your table, blushing when his knuckles brushed against your hand. It was silly, really silly, but you couldn´t help but get flustered every time.

"It´s no problem, really." He mumbled softly before going on, "I hope i got everything right. Four cubes of ice, three fourths of milk and one fourth of coffee. Oh and i made sure to choose the bagel that contained more carbs so you would have energy for the day." He smiled proudly at you.

But honestly your attention was mostly focused on the way his fingers were fiddling with the cozy sweater that covered your arms as he rambled on. It had became an habit of his, he claimed it helped his concentration (it was a pretty lame excuse to get to touch your fluffy sweaters) but you were pretty sure he did it when he was feeling nervous about something.

Reality hit you suddenly as you realised he might feel like you were upset at him for canceling friday night, after all it was a very unusual for you to cancel plans with him.

"Hug?" Was all you could muster out, the longing you had felt throughout the week from barely even talking to him finally coming to the surface.

His hands pulled at your sweater, bringing you close to him before you could overthink your request. He wrapped his arms arounds your waist without hesitation, his face snuggling against your neck.

Your arms went around his shoulders, trying not to squeeze him too hard, as you stayed there for a few moments. He made no sign to pull away from you until you did, you loved that about him - you loved a lot of things about him.

When you were finally out of his embrace, mourning the lack of warmt right after, he smiled as he whispered softly, "Let me know if you need any of those again." Before walking back to his desk, almost tripping over his desk as he looked at you with those doe eyes of his the whole way.

How could you not fall in love with him?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

love you,

cat 🤍

[hedwig221b]

Not the same anon but your fav jealous and possessive Derek fics? I’m talking toxic possessive, Stiles always in sight and scented and being touched cuz Derek just CANNOT STOP 💞💞💞😌👆🏼🙂‍↕️

Hi, hello, here you go 🔥💖 (p.s. we need more obsessed borderline toxic Derek pleek)

As it Should Be by KuroKitty (HaleYes)

Stiles comes home from his 18th birthday party at the bowling alley to find a surprise waiting for him in his room.

Or, the one where Derek has no chill.

Assume I'm just An Asshole by mannersmakethmine

the pack always finding Stiles and Derek in coupley situations and assuming they're fake dating because there's a new threat in town, and Stiles and Derek because the shits that they are just go along with it.

Deflowered by astrugglingstoic

In which there is a prince, a knight, sequential sword fights, and an anecdote about pressed flower petals.

Feral Formalities by Aleandri

"There was silence as no one seemed to breath at the table. Derek had just gifted Stiles, an unmated Omega, with food. Right in front of another Alpha. Who he was on a date with. To discuss being heat partners…." In which, Stiles presents as Omega, and everyone wants a piece of the alpha-baby-making ass!

five times derek is protective of stiles and one time it's the other way around

Yeah, okay, so maybe Derek was a tad too protective of Stiles. So what? Sue him for worrying about his best friend, whom he totally does not have a raging crush on.

Okay, so maybe he does.

Shut up.

Hung The Moon by BurnItAllClean (nrnyx)

Slowly Stiles got control of himself again. His heart calmed. His breathing evened out. The anger was gone. In its place, a bone-deep weariness settled. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t survive this.

Might be a Predator by churkey

Derek's mom once told him they were predators. It never occurred to him to ask, 'If werewolves are predators, what do we hunt?'.

Oblivious Misadventures, and Other Such Tales by Little Spoon (JaydenNara)

Going to college was exciting and new, a chance for new friends and a fresh start, and the best part was, there was a supernatural fraternity on campus, meaning Scott finally had the freedom to be himself.

Then he met the resident human who came with a stalker alpha. What was the point of a supernatural fraternity if he still had to pretend to be human. And seriously, did Stiles ever fall asleep somewhere normal?

of gods & monsters by Dexterous_Sinistrous

“I’m not the best at conversation. I’ve been told I have no finesse for it.”

Stiles took a step closer to Derek, pushing the billowing silk out of the way. “And what would you say if you looked at me now?”

Derek looked up, startled for a moment when he realized he was now looking at Stiles’ unveiled face. He was silent for a beat, taking in Stiles’ features for the first time, convinced he would never see such beauty unveiled for him alone.

Oh my (let me look at those eyes) by Gorgeousgreymatter

A few months ago, he might’ve been able to solve this with some force—a little man-handling, a snarl, a glimpse of teeth. But he looks at Stiles’s broken face, knows he’s seen too much horror and blood and evil, the whole Big Bad Wolf routine is just going to fall flat. Because Derek looks at Stiles and he doesn’t carry himself like a teenager anymore. He carries himself like a soldier.

The Alpha and his Spark by sandyde03

Stiles is pregnant. Derek is perpetually horny and possessive. Stiles is confused. Not by Derek sexing him up. He loves that. It’s the fact that ever since he started to show that he was with pup everyone has been avoiding his eyes.

The Boy Is Mine, You Bonkers! by frownypup

It turns out that the words ‘a painfully smart and brave unclaimed human who is stupidly unutilized in Beacon Hill’s pack’ became the hottest gossip in werewolf underground. Yes, what the hell. Stiles’ existence has changed from a plankton to a rising sun.

Derek Hale has something he needs to say about it.

Three Little Words by Chloepioneer

“Oh god,” he whines, slapping a hand over his mouth to quell the vomit that boils the back of his throat. “Derek, is that the mailman?”

or Derek has a bad habit of killing people that take an interest in Stiles. Stiles might like it a little bit.

won't you torture someone else's sleep by redeyedwrath

I love you, Derek thinks, but he doesn’t say it, just watches Stiles throw his head back in laughter that isn’t for him and never will be. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Maybe if he thinks it hard enough, Stiles will hear him.

you are an obsession (i am your possession) by EvanesDust

Once Derek catches that tantalizing scent, he can’t stay away. Stiles. Derek’s completely enthralled by him. Obsessed. But all he can do is stand in the shadows, watching and waiting. Until he can make Stiles his, that is. And when that happens, Derek will never let him go.

Pack nights are not for getting laid by igotdamn

Stiles goes out clubbing, Derek doesn't like that very much.

Obsession by Rae666

Derek gets hit by a witch's curse and is confined to his loft as his uncle searches for a cure and Isaac stands guard. But as the curse grows worse and Derek's obsession with a certain pale skinned person becomes increasingly intense, how long can the team keep Derek and Stiles apart, especially when Stiles decides to take matters into his own hands?

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | smut | mafia | hurt/comfort | magical!Stiles

[1-800-local-slut]

Word of Advice...

Spencer Reid x Black! Fem! Pregnant! BAU! Reader

Spencer Reid Masterlist <3

Spencer and his fiancée are having a baby, and everyone has some advice for them.

I based this on JJ's pregnancy in season 4. This is basically the three times someone gave Spencer some advice about being a dad and his fiancé some advice, I cried writing this because of hormones y'all

Warnings: pregnancy, brief mention of sex, mention of a daddy kink, nothing really, fluff, twins

Request are also open if anyone wants to send anything!

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"You know, no matter how much you research it won't help when you have to actually hold the baby."

Spencer's head jerked up from his computer, no longer fidgeting with his nails and glanced over to Derek. Tabs upon tabs of information distracted him for the past hour. 'What to do as a first time dad', 'When to Start Expecting Cravings', 'How to Prevent Diaper Rash', 'Baby-proofing 101' and more.

The office buzzed softly behind him, other agents bustling around. It was a cool morning, nice and bright but had all the cold spring air Spencer had grown to love with the early call time of his job. Hotch was up in his office, Rossi was currently in the bathroom attempting to battle some sort of meal his stomach didn't agree with, Emily called in sick, JJ had a doctors appointment and wouldn't be in until later and Penelope was busying herself with some random task.

"Sorry, what?" Derek chuckled, his eyes ran over the mess on Spencer's desk. All of his case files, the parenting books he'd bought, the cups of coffee littering the area. How was this guy gonna keep his house clean with a kid running around in it?

"Morgan is right, even though he should be focused on his work. A word of advice, its good to get into the habit of picking up as you go along. Helps in the long run, you know." Hotch appeared from nowhere, in typical Hotch fashion with words of wisdom.

It was true. Spencer Reid, at the age of 27, got his girlfriend fiancée (he was still getting used to the title) pregnant. He got her pregnant, and then all the initial joy and imaginary world where everything would be perfect everything came slightly faded for him. He suddenly remembered him and his fiancée work a hard job with hard hours and an even harder toll on the mind. But he'd been trying not to focus on that, instead just trying to stay on the constant upside.

"Well yeah. I guess coffee cups all over the place aren't gonna be helpful in trying to keep the place tidy." Spencer chuckled, tapping one of the coffee cups on his desk with a random pen.

"I’ll say. You know your girl isn’t down with the nonsense, you better keep that house spick and span if you want to keep your ass clear of a beating. And if she's gonna be the one stressing with child care it'll be safer is you just stay clean and out the way.” Derek lamented. Hotch chuckled and Spencer glanced down at his hand while he grinned.

While he wouldn’t normally wear his engagement ring to work, they weren’t in the field today (hopefully) and he may have forgotten to taken it off this morning when they decided to stay in bed for an extra 45 minutes to sleep soundly. So what was the harm in wearing it? It was a little bit of his home life he would let seep into his daily life.

"Isn't it a little bit too early for you to be looking at all of this anyways? I mean I guess it's technically never too early but she's only what a month a long?" Derek asked, settling himself to sit on the corner of Spencer's desk.

Derek pushed an empty chip bag out the way, as he had settled on the one clear part of the desk. Spencer instinctively grabbed the bag and tossed it into the small trash bin he kept under his desk.

"It's never too early! I figured the better I prepare, the better I'll be able to help out when I'm home. I want to take as much paternity leave as I can, I want to be helpful when I'm home with her." He really should be attempting to clean. A stack of papers straightened, coffee cups gathered into one hand and tossed into the bin two at a time.

"Word of advice..." Hotch grimaced, as he tapped a coffee cup that sloshed and Spence had to grab to keep it from spilling all over his desk. "If you keep your desk as clean as you intend to keep your house, she'll be sending you back to work faster than you can imagine." With a ghost of a smile, Derek chuckled and ruffled Spencer's hair. Hotch smirked, seeing Spencer's mouth hanging open, and the two decided to take their leave to go back to doing the jobs they get paid so much for.

It was true, Spencer is usually a very clean guy but sometimes things get a bit messy. And usually, his fiancée wouldn't mind as long as it wasn't too outrageous but pretty soon those pregnancy hormones would come in full force. A shiver went down his spine as he imagined facing her anger at him leaving piles of books and coffee mugs all over the living room with a chubby baby sat on her hip. Picking up the last few coffee cups, Spencer straightened up his desk once more and finally tried to focus on work.

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"Morning JJ, you want some coffee?" Of course, I was joking. The joke was that JJ (who had recently returned from her maternity leave) was pleased that she could drink coffee again. If anyone bounced right back from pregnancy it was Jennifer Jareau. She looked flawless, glowing even more after her pregnancy. I can only pray to have that same miraculous recovery.

I couldn't drink coffee, the smell making me sick now. Of course I already couldn't have it, you know growing a baby, but it was far easier to resist the temptation.

A job like this has you running on caffeine, quitting cold turkey was like stopping cigarettes over night. Now I settled for some decaf tea, like peppermint or lemon and ginger.

"So, how's things going for the first term?" JJ chuckled, as I placed my spoon down on the counter and blew on the tea. This morning was some hot apple cider with cinnamon and I had a nice everything bagel on the side with some cream cheese spread over it.

"Well I've had too pee every sixty seconds, my tits are expanding with every second, and everything I eat makes me gain forty pounds thanks to bloating. So, great." The happy mood I had this morning was gone. I got to work and suddenly I wanted to put my fist through the steering wheel. And for some reason, Spencer's aftershave was making me want to cry. He just smelt so good, and he looked so good driving us to work, and lately he's just so handsome. Maybe it's knowing that we were about to have a bundle of joy?

"Mood swings getting you, huh?" JJ chuckled, turning around and heading to her desk as I followed behind.

"I'm ready to stop coming in now, I don't know how you were here up until you gave birth. You literally went into labor, I'm ready to go home now. Right now." I scoffed, and grumbled in irritation. I was even ready to stop wearing heels to work.

It felt like at any moment, I would just explode. That extra 45 minutes of sleep helped very, very little.

"Well, a word of advice, positive self talk is so helpful. I don't know why but when I was pregnant everything Will did drove me up a wall, I'm talking I wanted to take down his side of the bed only." JJ chuckled as we approached our desks. I slid into my seat, chuckling. JJ threw down her jacket, a push present from Will, and stretched.

Across the bull pen, Derek and Penelope walked past giggling about something. The two of them thick as thieves like always. The Sun had fully risen, and the world was wide awake. Cars honked outside, the team was wondering around on the floor and of course with no reason to be in the field today it was time to hunker down.

Sit down, do some paper work, the whole 9-5. I couldn't focus on the 9-5 though, hormones driving me to run into my fiancé's arms. To smell him, to hug him and remind him just how much I love him by showering him with hugs and kisses.

"How would you even take down his half?" I laughed as a blew on the cider and opening the file on my desk.

"I was looking at chainsaw's on Amazon, I had a plan I just needed to do it." JJ shrugged, opening her own case file and looking up at me through her lashes.

"Listen, my point is, you just have to try to talk to yourself. You're mind is vulnerable right now to all sorts of crazy emotions. You might suddenly hate everything about Spencer. You can randomly wake up and decide you hate him, you hate yourself, you hate the way your house looks, and that you should just take your baby and run away but you have to remember to keep yourself grounded in reality." With a soft sigh and took a sip of my tea, glancing over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't about to hear what I was about to say.

"I'm having the opposite issue with Spencer. I want to like, live in his skin." Was I ashamed to admit it? No. Was it slightly embarrassing to say it out loud? Yes.

"Oh! Okay! I mean, if that makes you happy!" It would make me very happy. Happier than this bagel was presently making me.

"No but I mean it. The mood swings will get worse as your first trimester goes on, you have no idea. Just try talking to yourself as often as possible, journal. Take care of yourself."

"Okay okay, I will. Thanks JJ, you're the best." With a shared smile, it was finally time to get some work done. Or just finish my bagel. Yeah, I'm just gonna finish my bagel.

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"No, mom you need to stay in the house. Yes, she's home with you, you will be fine. I saw my fiancée this morning, I don't miss her that badly in the two hours I've been outside. I'm at Target mom. Okay. Love you, bye mom."

Finally off the phone, Spencer slid his phone back into his back pocket. Diana was there for a visit, something she begged Spencer enough that she wore down his negotiating skills. So she got out of the ward for a fun few days.

And yes, Spencer did love the time he got to spend with his mom. He was more than happy to have her. But preparing for a baby, his fiancée either soul crushingly sad or horny or showing him things for their baby because in four months she'd be forcing it out of her body, and keeping your mom on her meds and your fiancée on her prenatal meds...sometimes a man needed to go to Target.

Sometimes a man needed to make breakfast, intentionally finish the milk and eggs, and suddenly have other errands that needed to be run outside.

Pushing through the aisles of Target, they all blended together. Everything just seemed crazy now. His fiancée was pregnant. She was pregnant, and their baby was coming in four months. She was nesting now, according to JJ.

When they found out she was pregnant she remained logical. She mapped out each important date, each doctors appointment, and left major shopping for a bit later. Spencer was the one buying mountains of books, crying over the minuscule things. Now though, she was crying over the little things, waking up with insane cravings (his favorite one to be woken up at 2:47 in the morning over? Buffalo sauce. Not like, buffalo wings. Buffalo sauce by itself but it needed to be hot and in a bowl and when Spencer protested she looked ready to rip him in two), and each day was filled with 'Spencer look at this, Spencer we need this, Spencer we HAVE to have this for our baby or we're shitty parents, Spencer, Spencer, Spencer.'

He was in heaven.

His wife couldn't get enough of him, literally sniffing him like he was a big ass pile of coke, his mom was over, it was almost time for their gender reveal (which Emily and Rossi somehow ended up in charge of planning but whatever), and he would be a literal daddy. Not in the sense that she called him but in the actual way.

Without even realizing it, he was in the baby section. His feet basically dragged him there. There was a little onesie, which would be the perfect size for his baby, a pair of baby booties randomly placed near by. But the couple made a promise to themselves, they wouldn't buy anything without each other unless they literally had to have it for their baby. Like the really cute onesie that Spencer found with a little 'R' on the front. 'R' for Reid. Soon they'd be Mr. and Mrs. Reid. Their baby's last name would be Reid.

His fingers ran over the soft cotton fabric of a pink onesie, that had the cutest little flowers stitched on the toes. He pictured it for a moment, a little chunky light skinned baby with curly hair and dark eyes. Brown eyes and chubby cheeks for his/her mommy and daddy to bombard with kisses.

With soft little fingers and little toes. With big eyes filled with innocence that was Spencer's job to guard, that he already knew he'd lay his life down to protect in a heart beat. A baby with a tiny heart beat that he'd be honored to hold. His baby. Their baby together that they made together.

Spencer didn't know when he started moving again, or when he weaved through the groups of people making their way around Target, but he was now on his way to the front and suddenly stopped in front of the cribs.

A large wooden crib with pretty little birds carved into the side. A mobile hung over the soft insides. There were some pillows inside and a mattress inside that looked nice and soft. On the left of it, a white crib, nothing on it but it looked nice and sturdy. And he knew they could probably find some nice designs to put all over the sides.

"First time?" A deep, scratchy voice pulled Spencer from his thoughts. It was an older man maybe 15-20 years older, with his wife standing close to him. Their cart was filled with toys and an abundance of blue. Blue onesies, blue bottles, blue pacifiers, blue toys, blue bibs, blue blankets, blue teething rings. If it was blue, it was in the cart. Clearly not their first time.

"Yeah. I mean, yes, my fiancée. She's pregnant." The smile and blush of happiness that came whenever Spencer told anyone came back. Heat filled his face with joy. Not nerves or anything just pure joy. He wished she was there with him. He wished she was with him looking at the cribs and holding his hand while they looked around. The couple chuckled at how pink he got before the wife began to speak.

"Word of advice, crib shopping without her is a good way to start a war. If he went crib shopping without me for out first I would've murdered him." People say such crazy shit when they don't know you're in law enforcement. Spencer knew she was kidding and couldn't care less but sometimes he wondered how different everyone around him would act if they knew he was FBI.

At work, when he walked onto a scene wearing that jacket with the letters big yellows letters on the back people steered just a bit more clear of him. I mean the FBI is literally the FBI. If he was a normal ass cop he'd be a bit intimidated as well.

"Don't worry, I'm sure she'd do the same thing. I'm just looking right now though. I don't want to do any part of this without her." Spencer would never be this open with strangers but some strange part of him, maybe the part that wished he had grandparents, had him telling this couple with kind eyes. And he of all people knew not to judge a book by its cover. Sometimes it was the nicest looking people who committed the most vile crimes.

"Oh, sometimes you'll have too. Of course, you would never make that choice but take it from 40 years of marriage and 38 years of parenting: sometimes you have to make the calls on your own. It doesn't seem likely now, but as a father you may have to make the best call for your child if your partner is unable to make any sort of choice." Huh.

He never thought about that. Well he should've. He's seen marriages torn apart (usually by the most stressful situation possible, your child being kidnapped or murdered or something) because of one parents choice. Usually it being glancing away for one second. But what if his kid needs something while she's out cold? Maybe she's fast asleep and his kid wants to go outside or something. God forbid it's something far more serious, Spencer would have to make a choice.

Maybe. Who knows. But it was true. Sometimes, Spencer would need to make a choice on his own. And although they promised to make any and all big choices together smaller things would require an adults attention.

The realization was too clear on his face because the man chuckled.

"I'm Clive and this is Judy, it was lovely to meet you young man." He extended a hand, and Spencer took it, returning the firm handshake.

"Spencer. It was nice to meet you too. Thank you for the advice."

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Music was one of the most emotional things in the world. It connected people, spoke to people, saved people. Right now it was destroying me. Right now, I could only hear my heart beat and the Billy Joel song that was wearing me down. The song had me in tears.

I was sitting at our bay window, Diana was watching Judge Judy and sitting calmly after she took her medication this morning with her breakfast. I had a blanket thrown over my legs, a pillow behind my back and my headphones strapped over my ears. She was softly breathing, clutching a pillow to her chest and fidgeting with the soft fringes around the edges of the pillow. From here, she looked a bit like Spencer, eyes focused on the screen with her head tilted slightly to the side. How much would our baby look my me? Or Spencer? Or even Diana, maybe his father or my parents? Anything was possible.

The soft rain pitter-pattered on the window and it just added to my mood. Was I sad? Was I happy? Bitter-sweet was the right word. How would I feel as our child grew before my very eyes? As I watched my baby get bigger with each passing moment? Before eventually they stood on their own two feet and walked completely on their own? I whimpered, an ache in my chest. Each day would be a beautiful reminder of what was to come.

I tried my hardest to keep it down, lest I bother my baby's grandmother. Oh god, grandmother. Diana would be a grandmother. The dam broke all over again and I buried my face in the sheet that was thrown over my knees

"A word of advice," I perked up when Diana's voice added to the mix of music, muffled sobbing and Judge Judy screaming at some random lady.

"When I was pregnant with Spencer, I was all over the place. I kept it to myself, I felt alone. I felt that because I was off my medication my feelings weren't normal but they completely are. Keeping my feelings inside, that turned into stress. Then resentment. For myself, for my husband and sadly for Spencer. Try talking to Spencer about your issues instead of letting them fester."

She read me like a book, what the fuck. Okay I hadn't been the most inconspicuous with my crying BUT dang I wasn't expecting that. I was actually planning to go into the bathroom because I didn't intend to disturb her. Something about being and FBI agent meant emotional constipation. Therefore, I didn't want to talk about my feelings on a deep level, and I did not want a whole thing to be made of it.

But Diana didn't look at me. She didn't turn around and look at me with pity or understanding, she didn't stand up and attempt to hug me, she didn't try questioning me on what was wrong. She just said it. She said it, blue eyes trained onto the TV as a commercial for mesothelioma played. I did my best to wipe tears from my eyes, and from down my face. Perhaps it was time to do away with the music. But in a way, I didn't want this feeling to end. I wanted to feeling to stay. The bitter-sweet feeling washing over me like a blanket. My heart hurt in the best possible way.

"Thank you Diana. I'm not upset, just...feeling things." With a chuckle as I wiped my eyes rubbed my no doubt puffy eyes.

"Well. As long as you're feeling something." Her eyes glued to the TV screen as Judge Judy came back on.

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"Hi everyone, thank you for coming. I just wanted to say thank you for coming to our lovely couples baby shower, Lord knows we all expected to be here sooner." Derek chuckled, raising his ginger ale to us, as we sat perched on the couch next to Rossi's pool. Chuckles and laughter went up all around us, Spencer laughed into his Pepsi. His smile lines crinkled under his sun glasses. God, he just looked kissed by the Sun. God (if there was one) took his time. He took his sweet ass time sculpting each little crease, crinkle, each hair on his head. And it truly paid off.

"Now, if the parents will just come to the front, we'll have them figure out the gender." Finally, Jesus. I loved Derek. I do! But my God could the man talk. And talk. Then talk some more. Maybe it was just the heat bothering me.

It was a sunny day, not too hot though just hot enough to annoy me. People in pink and blue bathing wandered around, Hotch was lounging in his blue swim trunks, Jack standing next to his dad and asking him a stream of questions (he was in that stage) had a the funniest amount of hot pink I've ever seen a child have on.

The wind gave a gentle breeze that offered slight reprieve from the heat as JJ and Will sipped virgin pina coladas from fun sippy cups in their matching pink swim suits. Henry was left with the rest of the kids in the play area with the baby sitters (the same company I planned on using for our wedding) and he arrived in a precious little pink ensemble with pink little sunglasses and sun hat.

And Penny, who could ever forget the darling Penny, who was coming back from the bathroom, with pink hair dye and basically everything else on her body. Even pink eyeshadow. I felt put to shame, thinking my all pink get up was a lot. Spencer had on a blue buttoned up shirt only for the sake of possible opposing sides.

Emily and Rossi (the only people who knew the gender) both wore black swim suits as they sat at the bar. Both giving us no clues at all to the babies gender. Honestly, this entire thing was a bit too big for a regular baby shower.

But we weren't setting any forest fires. Just spending a lot of money on our first child. And with the money we make, of course our children would be pampered each step of the way. No expense needed to be spared. And Spencer, easy going as it is, allowed me to handle the planning for our baby shower (as much as Emily and David allowed me) along with planning our wedding.

The bar, custom drink menu I created, the baby sitting company for all of our friends to bring their kids (honestly this is a small practice run for our wedding), catering company, the pool toys, the kiddie pool Rossi let us set up, and the goodie bags. And Spencer showed up, looking perfect as usual.

Rising to his feet, Spencer gave me a hand and pulled me up from my seat. We waddled (I waddled, Spencer pushed through the small crowd) through the waves of folks who came to see us today (or just came for free food) and eventually climbed to the front.

Looking out at the sea of faces, I almost cried again. I felt Emily place a palm on my shoulder and I wiped my tears before they could fall down. She handed Spencer and I both ice picks, Rossi directing the videographer and the photographer (a personal gift from him). Two black balloons, held in place by David and Emily.

Two black balloons that held out entire future. Two black balloons meant more to me than I thought was humanly possible. My heart beat pounded, as Derek said something about a countdown. The crowd began counting down from ten, as if a countdown was enough for the most important moment of my life, my hands getting sweatier by the moment. Spencer gripped my hand and I glanced over.

Ten...

And I realized then Spencer was terrified as I was.

Nine...

But we were terrified together.

Eight...

And we'd feel everything together from the moment this baby came

Seven...

No matter what happened, no matter how many faces we saw before us right now, it was Spencer and me, and our baby. And maybe one day, more of our babies.

Six...

My soon to be husband, and my child. My eyes welled up again, and Derek made a joke about mom crying early. I'd have to curse him later for being so funny. Our little family was no longer just him, I, Diana and my parents, who were in matching blue outfits watching in anticipation.

Five...

My tears and heart beat combined sounded like the ocean thrumming in my ears and Spencer chuckled nervously and stared down at his flip flops.

Four...

Almost...

Three...

Almost right at my future, the rest of my life.

Two...

Jesus just get to one!

One...

I nearly froze from fear but pushed the ice pick into the balloon, and a sprinkle of pink fell over me. I screamed, my heart soared and I jumped onto Spencer with joy and people clapped an cheered. My mom screamed, literally sobbing as she fell to her knees.

A girl. A girl, to love, and care for, and teach. I wouldn't have cared, either way I wasn't worried but I had always wanted a baby. To have a girl. To love a daughter was truly a gift.

Spencer stood stalk still, like he was a statue and he a terrified grin crossed his face. I saw Rossi nod as Derek chuckled. There was a man holding up a sign, right in front of us with a giant '2' written in pink. Right in front of Spencer, no matter he saw it first.

"Uh oh, Dad's looking a bit- oh my god, oh my god!" And Spencer was flying backwards into Hotch and Rossi.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺

"Oh, you can see him start to look a bit pale right there." Penelope narrated to his mother, who they were showing the video too on face time. Spencer was now sitting up right on the living room couch and sipping a ginger ale with trembling hands.

Spencer Reid was having twins. Could his life get any better? What did he ever do to deserve this much happiness? His head hurt just a bit, mainly from when he slipped off the couch after being set down and cracking his head on the floor but this was really happening. It was real.

Suddenly he felt a familiar presence. There she was holding two of his children inside of her and staring up at him with the most gorgeous eyes. She was gorgeous, even more so with the knowledge he had now, and he didn't even know it was possible.

He couldn't help himself, the tears filling his eyes as his mother and Penelope suddenly ended the call and she excused herself gracefully (the internet in the home was shitty, so she'd probably be calling back within the hour) and now he felt tears rushing down his face. She smiled at him, so softly that he couldn't even speak.

"I love you." She whispered as she drew her face closer to his and pressed a kiss onto his forehead.

"I love you too. And I love them." The words whispered, just for the two of them.

Well. The four of them.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻

The end! I cried a lot during this for no reason lol. I literally bawled my eyes out, I'm suffering from massive baby fever. Anyways, I hope you all like this one <3

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

I have request for Spencer Reid x Plus size fem!reader. Maybe her and Spencer are good friends and she gets stood up on a date or her date leaves after seeing her and Spencer swoops in and love confession.

p.s I love you work. <3

༉‧₊˚. 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

― pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

― summary: admitting that you got stood up on a date would be like admitting defeat, too bad spencer's too good of a best friend to let you go through this alone, even if he was the last person you wanted to see.

― warnings: best friends to lovers, getting stood up on dates, a red flag named chris (sorry to all the chris' out there), mutual pining, requited love, love confessions, and implied dates!

― wc: 1457

⋆ a/n: OH, MY GOODNESS IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE WRITTEN AN ACTUAL ONESHOT. i got hit with a random bout of inspiration out of nowhere and i have a bunch of fanfics that already have banners made but they're unwritten and rotting in my drafts so i'm trying to clean them out first. thank you for this and i hope you enjoy some best friend!spencer reid!!

masterlist | AO3

Leave it up to you to be stood up on a date you didn’t even want to go on.

You weren't even looking for anything serious with someone, you just needed a distraction, you needed anything that would help you move on from him. It wasn’t Spencer’s fault that you were in love with him – well, it actually kind of is – but that’s beside the point.

There was no way you could continue to sit there and allow yourself to wallow in self-pity over the fact that your feelings for your longtime best friend weren’t reciprocated. You were a grown woman for God’s sakes! And as a grown woman, it was up to you to make grown up decisions. One phone call to Derek was all it took for you to get hooked up with some dude that he knew.

“He’s a good guy,” He said.

Yeah, right. Good guy your ass.

Not only did you look stupid, but you were left stranded in a sports bar surrounded by a bunch of strangers – no, scratch that! Almost all of the patrons in this bar tonight were men, it was football season. You were practically asking to get murdered! What kind of FBI agent would you be if you allowed yourself to be murdered over the fact that some guy’s team lost.

With a sigh, you gazed at your chat between Chris and you. You had sent him a text thirty minutes ago asking where he was when he was ten minutes late, but even that message had been left unread.

The only reason why you were still here was because you were oh so painfully embarrassed, and you hoped that others around you couldn’t tell that there was supposed to be a second person joining you at your very barren booth that you had somehow managed to score.

Now that you think about it, how in the hell had you allowed this man to talk you into going to a sports bar instead of oh, I don’t know, a restraunt with a calm, and comfortable atmosphere?

Maybe it was the fact that the only person’s face you could see in your mind as you discussed where you were going to go together was Spencer’s. As ashamed as you were to admit, you mostly imagined a disappointed look on his face when he realized you were going out with someone else, but even you knew that was damn near impossible.

It wasn’t your failed date that was the shit show – even though it is a close second – it was you that was the main attraction. How could you have allowed yourself to be this childish? You weren’t in high school anymore, and you hadn’t been in some years, but old habits die hard, you guess?

It didn’t have to be common knowledge to tell that your romantic life when you were in school was very, very sad. You often found yourself alone on most weekends, ample amount of time to study right under your fingertips. You figured that when you had gotten older things would have gotten better but… nope.

You didn’t know who to call.

Would you call Derek and blame him? No, he couldn’t have known, but you could totally get him to beat Chris’ ass. The thought of your favorite and very muscular chocolate thunder roughing the piece of shit up helped to easy your nerves, badly enough. There was just one person you couldn’t bring yourself to call, and that was Spencer.

Calling Spencer meant that you were giving up, that you were waving the white flag, that you were still in love with him and no number of blind dates, good or bad, could change that.

You bit the inside of your cheek in thought, at least you had dressed up in something comfortable.

“Can I sit here?” You heard someone ask over the bustling noise of the bar.

“Honestly, you can just have the thi–” You spoke without looking up, but when you did, your words died in your throat.

There Spencer stood in his full glory; tall, lanky, nerdy, and extremely uncomfortable, but nonetheless, he slid into the sticky seat across from you with an awkward smile.

“Spence? What are you doing here?” You asked in shock, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I uh- Morgan called me. He said that Chris told him to tell you something came up, but I uh- I figured that wasn’t true.” He explained sympathetically. You scoffed, your body slouching along with the noise. “Yeah, no shit.” Your words were bitter and harsh, which caused you to squeeze your eyes shut.

“Fuck, Spence. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to talk to you like that, I’m just… frustrated.”

He reached out his hand, albeit reluctantly seeing as though the table was in the same state as the seat, maybe even a bit worse. You looked down at it then at him before relenting, your full hand slipping into his lithe one perfectly, as if it belonged there.

The fact that this felt so right made your stomach twist sickeningly, fingerings twitching in desperation to pull away. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to stay. You did not have the mental compacity to dig yourself out of another hole.

“No, it’s okay. I understand.” He reassured, his thumb caressing the back of your knuckles gently. “I came as soon as he called,” He then looked around, “Especially after he told me where you were.” You laughed a bit at his concern, your body feeling lighter as it finally straightened.

A soft grin graced your features.

“Thank you, Spence. Really. I know how uncomfortable these kinds of places make you. I just- I really thought tonight was going to go differently.” I thought that things between us were going to go differently, is what you really meant.

“I’m sorry, I know you liked him.”

You grimaced at the word ‘liked.’

“I think ‘liked’ would be the last word I would use to describe how I feel for Chris.”

It was his turn for his eyebrows to furrow. “What do you mean.”

You huffed. “What I meant was that I didn’t even want to go on this stupid fucking date anyways, but I had too… I had too…” You allowed your words to trail off when you had caught yourself about to admit something you had fought years to keep under wraps.

“You had to what?”

Goddamn him and his never-ending curiosity.

“Just leave it alone, please?” You pleaded. You looked up at him from beneath your eyelashes, your gaze soft and vulnerable. “Okay.”

A silence – what was an equivalent to silence – settled over the both of you. The air was thick with unspoken words and feelings, an invisible line was drawn that the two of you were too scared to cross.

“I would’ve never stood you up, you know.” Spencer piped up quietly, his grip that had gone limp in yours tightening. “What?” Your breath hitched. “And I would’ve taken you to someplace nicer than this.” His voice was shaky and forceful, as if he was forcing himself speak in fear that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t say anything at all.

“What are you saying?” You were breathless, the butterflies that fluttered around in your gut making you nauseous. Hope bloomed at a dangerous rate in your chest.

“What I’m saying is that if I were to take you out on a date, it would be a lot better than this.” He had finally gotten the courage to raise his gaze instead of focusing on where your hands were interlaced. “I would take you anywhere you wanted to go, then I would try my best to make it memorable for you because I…” He gulped. “Because I love you.”

Your ears were ringing. There was sweat beginning to form on your hairline.

“You’re being serious?” The question sounded more like a plea. “Because if you’re saying this because you feel bad, I-” He cut you off. “I don’t feel bad.” He lowered his head to where yours was in an attempt to connect your gazes deeper.

“I really do love you. I- I have for a long time.” Spencer confessed.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.” You said through a wobbly smile. His smile matched yours. You could feel the fact that both of your hands were extremely clammy with nerves, but none of you could find it within yourself to care.

“Can I cash in that date now?”

“Now?” He asked incredulously, lifting his free arm to check the time on his wrist. “It’s pretty late.”

You gave his hand a squeeze.

“I’m pretty sure we can figure that out.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @zippertwat @alixwriter

[blkdaddie]

Empregnas University: Code Gold

I shifted in my seat as Professor Roca droned on. As a second-year law student class, it's important to have good notes but my concentration is shot today. The baby has been sitting low in my pelvis for a week with no signs of labor. At least I can breathe a bit better but a 10 lb baby plus sitting for hours is murder on my back. I feel the now familiar urge to pee, and ease my heft to my feet. Prof. Roca doesn’t miss a beat of his lecture – with almost 40% of our student body pregnant at any time they’re pretty easygoing about bathroom trips during class. I take a few shuffling steps, knowing my waddle has become exaggerated with this bowling ball of a kid between my hips, when I feel a sudden wetness. I try to waddle faster mortified that I’ve wet myself, when a contraction seizes me and I double over with a grunt. “Holy shit, Derek’s finally having his kid!”. If I weren’t in so much pain I would laugh; I realize the wetness is at my rear – my waters have broken.

Prof. Roca finally pauses his speech on the intersection of artificial intelligence and ethics, turning his attention to me with a sigh. “I really thought we’d get through one semester without a labor starting in class. Damn nuisance, these kids.”  I don’t know if he’s referring to me or the baby, but I’m too panicked to care. This baby feels like a boulder between my hips and I sink to my knees aided by a classmate,  Anthony. I distractedly notice he has a slight belly, and he’s clearly freaking out, probably imagining his own labor.  I’m too breathless to reassure him.

Prof. Roca crosses to an old-school landline phone on the wall and I understand why it’s still there when he picks up the receiver. “Code Gold, Memorial Hall Room 242. And send janitorial, he’s leaking all over the place.”

The pressure is immense. I feel like I’m floating outside of my body as I watch my belly warp from the force of my muscles all moving the baby down.   “Derrick, just sit tight for a minute, health center is sending someone with a wheelchair. Now, where were we…”  Professor prepares to continue his lesson but I can’t bite back the pained cry that escapes my lips. I have an overwhelming need to push, and start scrambling for the waistband of my jeans. “Um, professor, I don’t think he has a minute!”  Anthony awkwardly kneels beside me and I feel cool air against my ass as I push my pants lower. A couple of classmates who have delivered before rush to my side, but most sit there gawking. We all know anal birth is normal and natural but seeing it live and in person is some wild shit.   James, who I know had twins last year, probes to check my dilation, and Andre, who has a toddler, starts talking to me softly.  “Bro, you gotta focus. Quit screaming and breathe. Da fuck is wrong with you, coming to class like this?”  He shakes his head but looks resolved when James signals something from over my shoulder. “Next contraction, fuckin’ push.”    My belly hangs low and heavy as I sit back on my haunches, looking for any relief, but it’s futile.  I’m terrified but my body takes over. One push. Then another. Unbearable burning. On the third push the baby’s head is out and I can feel it wiggling. The sensation is surreal but I don’t have time to ponder. I bear down again and the baby slides out into James’ hands. I feel a sudden physical emptiness but my heart is bursting when I hear a mewling, then a cry. My classmates help me lie back; I’m shivering as I come down from the adrenaline high, but my grasp on my wet squawking baby is confident and secure. Professor Roca gives up, slamming his laptop shut. “Forget it. Class dismissed. See you on Thursday.”

[6ft-under-beacon-hills]

𝟮𝟬/𝟮𝟬 𝗩𝗶𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 — 𝗦𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗸 𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗹𝗲𝘁

From this voting post to this ficlet. I hope you'll enjoy it!

summary: Due to a series of unfortunate events, Derek temporarily loses his werewolves ability... which apparently includes 20/20 vision. Let's just say Derek has Stiles' attention in a different light now (not that he's aware about it anyway). tags: attempt at humour, canon-typical sterek banters, canon-typical description of violence (mild), 'unfortunate events' are not specified/describe, au setting but sort of close to canon, not beta read

Nobody really realised it. Not even Derek himself.

It first started when Deaton, displaying the usual cryptic persona, held out a small, opaque jar to Derek. He said that the only way to confirm it is by testing it out. But his opinion was beginning to cement itself when Derek had to squint to read the faded label when typically even the slightest scent of it should have been enough for any were-beings to know the jar contained Mountain Ash. (What they confirmed that night was that Derek was no longer a supernatural as he could easily hold a handful of Mountain Ash on his palm).

The second time it happened was when Scott unrolled a blueprint on the table, the details of the structure neatly written on the corners of the pages, it was small but it was readable. Everyone gathered around it, taking turns to rotate the paper to their direction. Derek, however, leaned in, lower than when Stiles wanted to take in all the information on it, and when that was not enough, he took the blueprints and lifted it up to his face – scanning the entire page inches away from his nose.

The pack started to suspect it then.

Scott with all his gentleness and concern was the one who voiced it out. "Is everything okay, Derek?"

Well, not the way Stiles would've said it but this was Scott. He beats around the bushes sometimes, starts a conversation with a question.

"Yeah." Derek grunted, throwing the blueprint back onto the table. And that's the thing with question, often time, people don't give a truthful answer.

Then they went on with planning as if Derek hadn't practically kiss the blueprint paper. Stiles kept his eyes on Derek the entire night.

And the day after, and after, and after.

So almost a week after the shocking revelation that Derek lost his supernatural abilities, Stiles noted a few things about normal-Derek. As normal as Derek could be, that is.

Things like, how Derek flinches when there was a sudden noise (typically Peter's obnoxious laughter), or how he would sigh in frustration when something was too heavy to be easily carried the first time (he'd still managed to carry it though, that muscle-headed beast), or how he would squint at anything he decided to focus on if it was a certain distance from him (probably because he refused another display of grabbing something so close to his face).

The fact that this had gone on for almost week was hilarious. How did anyone not notice it? Or maybe they noticed it but decided leave him be? Derek does have a habit of grabbing someone by the collar and threatening them. Stiles doubted that any of his usual 'rip your throat with my teeth' would hold any actual scariness but he also valued his life not to bring it up carelessly himself.

Stiles strategised. He always does. He chose a day where the pack had a meeting, chose time frame just after work and before the meeting, chose a location where it was public enough to ensure Derek does not misbehave but the two would still have their treasured privacy. It worked wonders, by the way, and for a split second he allowed himself to silently bask in the glory of 'people should listen to me more because my plan always works'. Who was he kidding, he took his head out of his ass and attend to the matters at hand – a grumpy Derek, unable to threaten Stiles or deter away the conversation, thus ultimately admitting that he, in fact, can't see well.

And who is Stiles if he's not prepared, right?

He slid a rectangular black box towards Derek, who rolled his eyes at the item.

"I don't need that."

"Yes. Yes, you do." Stiles was not one to give up. "Have you seen how you look just now? Trying to read the menu like it was a Mathematical problem? Who reads with that much squinting power and scowling?"

A low growl came from Derek's throat.

Stiles went rigid. Well, good to know he can still do that.

"Just wear it okay." Stiles sighed. "Since when are you the advocate of fashion and styles, anyway. Think of it this way; What if Scott needs some help but you can't clearly see which one is Scott and which one is the enemy? You ended up, oh I don't know, shooting Scott???"

That seemed to convince him.

"Fine." Derek grunted. He took the box, unexpectedly gentle with it as he carefully close it back once he took out the glasses. He glanced at Stiles first, in which Stiles held out both of his thumbs out with a grin, and he scoffed as he put on the glasses. He propped his elbows on the table, hands clasped, "Happy?"

When Stiles did not answer, Derek continued, "You didn't have to be so disgusted."

Stiles still did not answer. He was not disgusted for sure, but he can't seem to find his voice. It seemed to be stuck in his throat. He swallowed his saliva just in case. Yes, it must be something that he ate just now, he reasoned, an allergy or something. It'd explained his rising heartbeat.

Derek sighed, a hand reaching to the glasses.

In a speed of light, Stiles stumbled over the empty cup with his hands, knocking it off the table, as he hurriedly stop Derek from removing the glasses. It was an instinctual act more than anything.

The two of them stuck in that awkward position, like two separate lines finally meeting at one point, Derek sat, his fingers pinching the air as Stiles hand wrapped around his wrist, halting his initial movement. Derek observed as Stiles appeared to look panicked, his eyebrows furrowed, the upturnt lips, and the intense focus to his eyes. The sound of the bell ringing against the opening door snapped them back into the present.

Stiles released his hold, he returned to sitting, albeit fidgeting more than ever, as he clear his throat with a small 'Sorry'. Derek simply looked away.

If the new customers came in just a few seconds late, Derek would've seen the way Stiles' eyes drifted from his eyes down to his lips for a split-second. Stiles dragged a hand down his face. "We should go," he said as he stood. "They must be there already."

Derek simply nodded and followed Stiles out.

Fuck, Stiles thought. No way.

"Hey, wait up." Derek called out from behind, picking up the pace to catch up. The setting sunlight reflected on his glasses. "You forgot to pay for your drink, so you owe me now."

Fuck no, Stiles cursed inwardly, glaring at Derek before entering his Jeep.

No way in any hell I'm finding him attractive with glasses on.

a/n: thinking of making a part two maybe...

[velvetcloxds]

if you're too shy- dbf!derek morgan where he's secretly dating rossi's daughter and when she's in trouble the team goes in to help her and instead of running to rossi she runs to derek

BRAVE | D.M.

word count: 1k (I'm really trying to keep these short, I swear ksjc)

warnings: I'm in love with him, your honor (also the reader being in danger obvs)

Derek wasn't sure how no one had realized just how absolutely shattered he'd been from the second they got that tape of you tied up and wounded, begging for help. He was sure it was obvious just how mad he was with worry, how on edge he was, how terrified he was- he blamed it on everyone else's worry, especially your father, if your father was even the tiniest bit focused on anything other than finding you he'd have put the pieces together immediately. He didn't care for it now, trying to hide how he felt, he wanted to find you, wanted to know you were safe and if he got his ass handed to him by Rossi in the process then so be it.

Truth be told, Rossi had noticed, everyone was worried, and everyone was on edge but it wasn't the first time they had lost someone on the team and though you weren't on the team, you were definitely part of the family. Derek, however, wasn't acting like he lost a team member, not close. Rossi would've had to be blind not to see the look on his face every time a lead fell through, the balled fists as he rewatched the video of you as if looking at it one more time would show him something new the team had missed, tell him something he hadn't heard, or the way his face showed such genuine fear when he first heard your voice- Derek was about as easy to read as the Sunday paper and Rossi, though not pleased at all with what that meant, had a feeling you'd be acting the very same if the roles were reversed.

Which is why, despite everything in him, Rossi was the one who volunteered to go first, check the rooms first, look for the unsub first, why he'd let Derek lead the team to look for you, why he'd let him go after the sound of your voice instead of the sound of a gun- if Derek's behaviour was anything to go by, you'd probably be wanting him anyway, it'd be him you'd be calling for from beneath your restrictions- and he was right.

You were crying, fighting against the restraints, fighting to feel him, to be free in a way that only his arms could free you and he was trying, gun discarded and knees on the bare concrete, cooing all the while as his tremored hands attempted to undo the knots.

"I'm trying, baby," he breathed, voice nearly as unsteady as his movements, barely keeping hold of his sanity as your crying intensified. "I know, sweet thing, I know, just one more second," and that's all it took before you were loose, the way you reached for each other was messy, reckless, senseless, you weren't sure how you'd tangled yourselves so quickly but you were on his lap, not a care for a single one of your injuries as you grabbed at his neck. "You're safe," he sighed, finally allowing the relive to find him, not concerned in the slightest for what the team would think as they rushed into the room behind him.

"I asked for you," you admitted, your voice a broken sound, hoarse from the shouting, trembling from the crying, not at all controlled. "In the video, it was stupid," you wanted to see him, pulling away with hands not delicate in the slightest as you cupped his cheeks. "Didn't want you to worry," you weren't thinking at all about who was listening, watching, trying to climb onto him even more, lean into him even more, eliminate the concept of space completely because you didn't want to be out of his arms for even a second ever again.

"You weren't stupid," he argued, his own hand mimicking yours as he brushed a thumb over your cheek, avoiding the scar that hid under dried blood, fuming at the sight, the only thing keeping him from beating the life out of the bastard who did this to you was the impossible grip you had on him. "You were brave, baby girl, so damn brave," he insisted and you nodded without thinking, entranced, exhausted, with the adrenaline leaving your system the ordeal was starting to catch up with you.

"Is my dad here too?"

"Right here," you looked over Derek's shoulder to find the pair of eyes that had been taking in your whole interaction, not at all expecting him to move forward and place a lingering kiss on the top of your hand, hand squeezing Derek's shoulder as he did so. "You think I'd let your guy over here take all the credit for saving you?" he mused and you managed a small smile, syncing into Derek's arms, body too heavy to stay upright any longer and of course, Derek was expecting the sudden slump and the nuzzle of your head into his neck as he lifted the pair of you up from the ground.

"We wanted to tell you," Derek noted as the medics moved you onto the gurney, connecting you to all the wires and machines, ignoring your whispered pleas for the time being. "She was scared."

"For you?" Rossi quipped, already knowing the answer, shrugging when your partner nodded guiltily, already moving to join you on the ambulance, instinct kicking in when he heard you begging for him, saw you reaching for him. "Don't think facing the father could be as terrifying as this," he tried a lighthearted comment, but it had a bite to it, tension still thick, nerves still soaring. Derek nodded again, looking down at you with eyes so full of love it was sickening.

"No sir," he agreed and smiled as you looked up at him with a big, dazed stare, a dreamlike look matching his own as you forced your entwined hands to your mouth to brush a light kiss to his knuckles. "Nothing could be as scary as losing her."

[thewritingofamadwoman]

To Forgive or Not To Forgive, That Is The Question

Part two of “Should I Stay or Should I go”

Pairing: Mark Sloan x Fem!OC

Warnings: some fluff, some angst, Mark being his usual handsome self.

Thank you for reading & Enjoy!

It had been exactly one month since Mark Sloan officially started working at Seattle Grace and honestly it has been the worst few weeks of my entire existence. My head and heart were all over the place, at war with each other whenever I saw, thought of, spoke to, or worked with Mark.

The more logical, realistic side of me was angry and hurt, betrayed that I had no choice but to work side by side on some cases with the man who had left both my daughter and I when we needed him the most. The emotional, more physical side of my brain couldn’t stop from preening whenever Mark complimented me or flirted with me. He once placed a hand on my waist to squeeze by from behind me I could swear that the entire hallway heard the how loud my fucking heart was beating.

I tried my hardest to be the bitch I needed to be to deter him. I would glare and roll my eyes, snap back and avoid Mark at all costs. But of course, somehow the largest hospital in Seattle had become smaller than your average kindergarten classroom. I couldn’t avoid Mark Sloan no matter how hard I tried.

I was currently standing at a nurses station, flipping through a chart while Callie stood next to me, signing a few papers. Cristina Yang was crunching on chips in front of us when she let out a low whistle. Callie and I turned our attention to her when she nodded her head towards the end of the hall. There Mark stood as he chatted with Derek, in scrubs and a lab coat. The men were whispering about something, and Mark let out a laugh, throwing his head back. Callie let out a breathy laugh of her own.

“Damn he’s hot,” she said, and Cristina hummed in response. I rolled my eyes but couldn’t take my eyes from Mark’s silhouette. They weren’t wrong, Mark was hot. So very fucking hot. But…he fucked up. And I couldn’t forgive him. I shouldn’t forgive him. Right?

“He’s alright, I guess. But he’s an ass,” I said nonchalantly and forced my eyes back to the chart in front of me.

Cristina snorted and continued to munch on her chips.

“Sure, but that’s a fine ass he has,” she chuckled and Callie laughed along with her, agreeing. I looked up to shush them but my eyes connected with Mark’s from across the hall and I stuttered. Make gave me his signature smile, eyes gentle, before turning back to Derek. Callie and Cristina turned around to stop themselves from giggling. Controlling my blush I closed my patients folder and slapped Callie’s arm with that same folder.

“You two are horrible. Just horrible,” I mumbled at them before I walked away.

——

The day continued and Mark always seemed to be in my peripheral vision. Everywhere I went, he was there. Whether he was with a patient or chatting with one of our coworkers, Mark Sloan was never more than 40 steps away from me at any given moment.

I reached my breaking point before lunch.

“Oh for fucks sake,” I muttered to myself when I saw Mark chatting with Alex Karev, MY intern for the month. I marched to both men and cleared my throat.

“Mark, can I speak to you for a second?” I bit out, doing my best to remain civil.

“Uh yeah, sure. Of course. Karev, I’ll see you later,” Mark nodded at Alex before turning to me, a friendly smile on his face.

“Mark, what are you doing?” I sighed, tired of all the emotional whiplash. Mark looked at me, seemingly genuinely confused.

“What do you mean? Karev? I was just chatting with him-“

“No,” I cut him off. “What are you doing here, in Seattle? At this hospital? You’re one of the best plastic surgeons in the country and you had to come to the one hospital I work at?”

Mark gave me a small, sheepish smile.

“In my defense, this is the number one trauma center in the west cost and Richard Webber really did give me an offer I couldn’t refuse. But the main reason? You know the main reason, Lise. I came to apologize. What I did was wrong. So fucking wrong,” Mark sighed, and the use of a nickname I hadn’t heard in a long time did not go unnoticed by me. I let him continue.

“I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you and to our baby girl. I was young and dumb and I know that those aren’t excuses, but you have to believe me when I say that I want nothing more in this world right now than to be with you and to finally meet my daughter.” Mark’s eyes pleaded with mine and I could see the sincerity within them.

But I couldn’t bring myself to forgive him right away.

“Mark, you broke me. I was ready to start a family with you. And you just ripped my heart out and stomped on it. I…I’m not sure I can just forgive you like that,” I said, my heart clenching at the thought of us being a family again. I didn’t notice the hot tear sliding down my face until Mark’s hands cupped both of my cheeks, his thumb brushing the stray tear away.

“I’m sorry Lise. I’m so sorry baby. I will spend the rest of my entire fucking existence trying to earn your trust back, if you’ll let me. I want to do right by you and our baby girl. I know what I’m signing up for here. And I’m willing. Please, just let me try to prove myself to you. I want to be the one who makes you happy again,” Mark pleaded, his own eyes watering with desperation. I reached up and grabbed both of his wrists in my hands before staring into those beautiful blue eyes of his.

After what felt like an eternity, I nodded.

“You get ONE chance. This is it, Mark. You fuck this up and we are DONE for good. You don’t get to talk to me or see our daughter. You disappear from the fucking face of the earth and leave us alone. Do you hear me?” I said. Last time, I let logic and reasoning rule my heartbreak. This time I was willing to let emotion take over. I was still raw from the heartbreak but I guess I loved Mark Sloan more than I was willing to admit.

Mark’s eyes widened and he smiled, squeezing my face in his hands just a touch and leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on my forehead. I closed my eyes at the sensation, opening them back up once Mark had pulled away.

“You won’t be disappointed baby, I promise.”

Part Three…? ;)

Tag List (thanks for reading):

@caseyandsloan @xjasam4lifex @spookyboogyuniverse

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

I’m new here so I’m sorry if I missed an FAQ about rec lists instead of general fic locate requests. If you do regular rev lists on your fave fics but can you do a list of your favorite Stackson Brotp fics? Like it’s still endgame Sterek but still has a healthy dose of Stackson brotp please. I’d really appreciate it

joonniverse asked:

Hey there ! Would you happen to have any fic recs where Jackson and Stiles are/become really close? Any Stiles centric pairing is fine

AND

Anonymous asked:

May i get some fic recs for Jackson and stiles friendship? Either childhood friends or became friends post Canon or anything in between. If stackson happens that is also ok as is any other ship.

Alright friends. It took me a minute but here's some of my favorite Stiles and Jackson friendship fics. (alternatively this could be renamed " A list of mostly isthatbloodonyourshirt fics")

So When Do I Get To Pledge My Loyalty To The Mob? by RedRidingStiles

(1/1 I 10,146 I Mature I Sterek)

“Are you my sugar daddy?” Stiles blurts out, slapping a hand over his mouth when his brain catches up to his mouth.

The man lets out a soft laugh, making his way around the couch till he’s standing just feet away from Stiles.

Stiles can smell his cologne from here, it smells heavenly, Stiles kinda wants to bury his face into the guy's chest so he can figure out exactly what it is.

“If that’s what you’d like to call it.” The man smiles.

Stiles doesn’t think he should be allowed to smile like that. All soft and gorgeous and way too pretty to be legal.

He’s still not convinced any of this is real.

Stiles loses his wallet, someone returns it along with $5,000. Shit keeps coming, Stiles life doesn't make any sense anymore, he's just going with it.

Quack (Stiles Stop Calling It That) by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(1/1 I 15,980 I Teen I Sterek)

“Stiles, I’m serious, I need a favour.”

“That sounds like a trap,” Stiles Stilinski muttered sleepily into both his pillows. “You know,” he continued when the man in his room made no move to leave, “you’d think I’d be used to this. My dad, coming into my room, smacking my ass to get me out of bed, waking me up at the ass crack of dawn—”

“It’s almost one.”

“—waking me up at the ass crack of one,” Stiles continued without missing a beat, “and asking for a favour. Given my life growing up with you, you’d think I’d be used to this by now. I think the reason this hits so hard now is that I specifically bought my own apartment so that you couldn’t wake me up at the ass crack of dawn—”

“Stiles, it’s almost one.”

“—so that you couldn’t wake me up at the ass crack of one.”

Everyone Needs a Little Mischief in Their Life by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(1/1 I 17,984 I Teen I Sterek)

Finally, against his better judgement, and having gone in circles for much too long, he blurted out, “Who is my soulmate?”

The Witch looked disappointed, like he’d fucked up. Like he’d fucked up bad.

But she answered anyway.

“Mischief.”

Derek stared at her, not understanding, because what? “That’s not a name,” he insisted.

“Not exactly, no.” She offered him a small smile.

“I don’t understand.”

“You will.”

Sweet Buns by skoosiepants

(1/1 I 17,935 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles hasn’t seen Derek Hale this close up for over a decade. He looks almost exactly the same, except somehow he seems even bigger and broodier—criminally handsome, with soft-looking dark scruff, heavy brows, light hazel eyes. His gaze zeros in on Stiles almost immediately, and his scowl lightens minutely in what looks like surprise.

Stiles is acutely aware that he has melted butter and cinnamon all over his face, and tries to surreptitiously wipe it with the ends of his sweater-sleeve.

I've Lived A Better Day by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere

(18/18 I 32,819 I Not Rated I Sterek)

When Stiles comes across a rogue Alpha during his first year at Berkeley, the ensuing fight doesn't exactly go his way. He calls an unlikely ally to help him with his transition, and finds out his new pack isn't quite who he might have thought it would be.

Stiles is now left with the task of trying to figure out how his old life will fit in with his new, but that is not without its challenges.

Stilinski's Home for Wayward Wolves by owlpostagain

(1/1 I 35,197 I Teen I Sterek)

“At least your puppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them to be well-mannered.”

“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly.

Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges, abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up and all but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, and sure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock duct taped to the vinyl siding:

DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

---

Or, in which Stiles Stilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school and accidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

There’s No Escape for the Potato Man by isthatbloodonhisshirt

(1/1 I 53,977 I Teen I Sterek)

“Who is this? Where’s Erica?”

“Wrong number, asshole!”

“Stop calling me an asshole,” the man on the other end snapped aggressively.

Stiles could understand. He’d be pretty aggressive too if he’d murdered someone and texted a wrong number to ask for help burying the body. This guy obviously failed How To Be a Serial Killer 101.

“What kind of idiot thinks I murdered someone?”

“The kind of idiot who got your text messages, you fucking dumbass!” he retorted hotly. “Maybe double check your contacts before sending a random stranger details on your nefarious plans to dispose of a freshly cut up body!”

“What?!” the guy on the other end demanded, crossed between horrendously confused and livid.

Have You Met Me? by Niecy8

(23/23 I 60,462 I Mature I Steter)

Derek’s eyes widened as his mouth contorted. “Good luck with that. First of all, he has sworn off alphas. Second of all, he will never ever agree to fake date and third of all, he’s just as stubborn as you.”

Oh, this idea of his was becoming more of a challenge. Peter certainly doesn’t want to back down now. “Please Derek. I am Peter Hale. I am charismatic as fuck. I can steal candy from a baby. Stiles will be no match for me.” And he was an omega. Despite what his nephew said, he could definitely turn on his alpha charm and the boy will be putty in his hand. It would be a slam dunk in his book.

Laughing through a wheeze which was rude by the way, Derek caught his breath. “Please tell me when you go to his place so I can video when he slams the door in your face.”

Later, there would be a door slammed in his face. Yet the boy did take the flowers Peter brought over as an ice breaker before doing so because Peter can be warming and Derek was not there smirking at him so he called it win.

Yep, challenged accepted. He would most certainly convince a certain omega to fake date him for a week.

What Fresh Twilight Bullshit Is This? by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

(7/7 I 196,137 I Explicit I Sterek)

“I am not Bella!” he insisted, shaking his fist angrily at Jackson, as if he’d been the one to suggest he was. “I am not Bella! I am, like, a Jacob, at least!”

Lydia made a noise of debate from his right and he whipped around to look at her.

“What?! What was that sound?!”

“You’re more of a Mike,” she insisted, shrugging neatly and flipping some curls over her shoulder.

“Wha—” Stiles had never been so offended in his life! “I am not! No way! I am a solid Jacob!”

“Mike,” she argued.

“Who’s Mike?” Scott asked.

“Shut up, Scott!” Stiles insisted, pointing a finger at him but still glaring at Lydia.

AND

@lovesouthernsweettea and @harriet-wimsey suggested this one!

stuck in reverse by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli)

(1/1 I 66,656 I Explicit I Sterek)

Look, Derek is the worst. Everyone knows that. Their fearless leader is a total and complete failwolf.

Which means the rest of them? Are kind of the worst too. They’re a ramshackle, slap dashed, sorry excuse for a pack that’s about a half second away from getting one of them killed. And this is a problem, because Stiles would really like to survive high school. Thanks.

Still, nobody deserves what Derek has gone through. Nobody.

And it’s about time somebody told him that.

AND

@midnightwinterhawk suggested these!

stuck in reverse by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli)

(1/1 I 65,656 I Explicit I Sterek)

Look, Derek is the worst. Everyone knows that. Their fearless leader is a total and complete failwolf.

Which means the rest of them? Are kind of the worst too. They’re a ramshackle, slap dashed, sorry excuse for a pack that’s about a half second away from getting one of them killed. And this is a problem, because Stiles would really like to survive high school. Thanks.

Still, nobody deserves what Derek has gone through. Nobody.

And it’s about time somebody told him that.

Shovels and Dirt by bellefire

(15/15 I 88,628 I Mature I Sterek)

The nogitsune’s power doesn’t leave Stiles after the spirit is defeated. No, it seems Stiles was changing and knowing what that darkness did to his friends he refuses to put them in danger again. He leaves without a word. Now in a new city with not quite new friends Stiles realizes no one can run forever. Because family doesn’t back down and also, yeah, that fuckin’ tree really is talking to him.

AND

@nolanfa suggested this one!

See You on the Other Side by damnitgreenberg

(18/18 I 146,077 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles isn't doing so well on the ‘dealing with life’ front. He'll admit to that freely, okay? But he quickly discovers he isn't the only one, and that person’s inability to adapt and roll with the punches may cost Stiles his own life.

AND

@ah-lone-drah suggested this one!

Derek's Person by ash_mcj

(3/? I 3,916 I General i Sterek)

Derek didn’t like people—they set him on edge in a way that nobody quite seemed to understand, much to his vexation. They always invited themselves into his space, like they somehow had a right to be there. They touched his clothes, his books, his skin—leaving their scents clinging to things that were supposed to smell like himself. They expected him to talk to them, and never managed to wrap their heads around the notion that he just couldn’t. Words were difficult for him to use most of the time, and despite all efforts to communicate in other ways, people just didn’t understand. But it didn’t matter anyway, because Derek didn’t like people and had no inclination to socialize with them.

But Stiles was…different, somehow. He did everything that Derek hated, and more. He intruded into Derek’s space, he rambled constantly, loudly, with flailing arms and fidgeting fingers—and his presence should have driven Derek up the wall, but it didn’t. Stiles didn’t set him on edge, like everyone else did. And maybe most surprising of all, he understood him.

[or: reclusive, feral-risk derek hale finds solace in a wild child, much to his pack’s surprise]

[sugar-omi]

male ver coming a little later&lt;333 ALSO I FEEL LIKE THIS NEEDS A PART 2 CUZ WHY IS THIS KINDAAA 🙈🙈 n also this is too nasty. i cant. im actually embarrassed

DAY THIRTY ONE — GANGBANG (FEMALE READER VERSION)

*kinktober masterlist | *ao3 | *male reader version

tags : NSFW, bottom + fem/afab reader, priest/(EX)-demon hunter!reader AU (demon!cove, angel!derek, sorcerer/reaper!baxter), spit roasting, anal, double penetration, cove w tongue/dick piercings, oral (reader + character receiving), dirty talk/degrading, sub/bottom derek, raw sex, creampie

synopsis : cove and baxter are having a little too much fun having their way with you and derek.

“for a priest and demon hunter, you sure are easy to break!” cove cheers, forcing your head down until your nose is in his pubes. “well, i guess you are retired. still, you’re already chasing me with those enchanted weapons and beating me up!”

cove peers down at you, his eyes smug and happy to see you glare at him while his dick is down your throat. it’s funny to him. “and all it takes is a little dick to render you useless.. i wonder what your followers would think if they saw you like this?”

you want to make a quip, but you can’t with cove’s pierced dick in your mouth. but even if you could, a moan bubbles up from your throat and cove groans at the sensation.

your legs shake. fuck, derek is feasting on your cunt like it’s his last meal, the flat of his tongue running over your folds and drooling hole until he reaches your clit, wrapping his lips around the sensitive pearl and sucking, teasing it with his tongue.

cove pulls you off his dick, letting you catch your breath, enjoying you panting, trying to wipe away all the spit on your chin.

you glare at him, “can’t.. would it kill you to be gentle?” cove perks up, his thin tail swishing behind him. “it might.”

you roll your eyes, breaking when derek adds his fingers into the mix, it sends a shudder down your back and ruins your tough expression. not that it was very intimidating in the first place, you’re sweaty and flushed, hickeys all over your chest and legs, and you can’t forget the toy in your ass or derek pulling your hips down on his face.

cove leans forward, lifting your chin to steal a kiss. “it’s not my fault you look best when you’re drooling over my dick.”

baxter chuckles, running his hand from your lower back to your neck, tilting your head towards him. “you are a sight for sore eyes…” he purrs, leaning in to kiss you, his plush lips moving against yours and you melt, hypnotized even when he eases his tongue into your mouth.

you don’t even notice he’s holding the remote to the vibrator inside you and you jolt when he turns it up, the toy shaking and even derek groans, feeling the vibrations of the toy against his tongue that’s exploring your wet insides.

baxter smiles into the kiss, far too pleased to keep kissing you so cove steals your lips from him, stealing your breath and slipping his forked, pierced tongue along yours while baxter kisses and nips at your already bruised skin.

your legs start to shake and you break the kiss, dropping your head on cove’s shoulder as your nails drag down his thighs. “i’m- i’m gonna-!”

cove nibbles on your earlobe, his husky voice purring in your ear. “that’s it.. cum for us, cum on derek’s face.”

it doesn’t take much to push you over the edge, your slick flooding derek’s tongue and your thighs torn between shaking like a leaf and clamping around his head.

derek’s tongue keeps laving over your clit until you’re shaking from overstimulation and whining, trying to pull off his mouth. “t-that’s enough, i’m…” you pant, your trembling form being pulled off derek’s face until you’re in baxter’s lap where he wipes your sweaty forehead with his hand, kissing your hot cheeks lovingly.

“so good.. you did so good.” he praises, and you turn your head for a lazy kiss, this time his lips move with yours and he keeps kissing you even when you stop kissing back, tired and still weak from your orgasm.

it’s a little late, but you realize baxter turned off the plug. at least someone is merciful and kind.

“so!” cove claps his hands, his tail swishing with mischief.

baxter hums, and derek just flushes, deciding to stay out of it. baxter speaks up, “you two can go first, i can wait.”

cove nods, already pulling you off baxter’s lap before he can finish speaking, pushing you into derek’s arms and he wraps his arms around your front. he grins, showing off his sharp teeth. “i wanna see you fall apart on my and our angels dick, i think that’d be fun, don’t you?”

he doesn’t care for a reply, and he interrupts any reply you want to give by taking derek’s cock in his hand and lining up with your cunt, forcing your hips down until his dick is right against that spongy spot near your cervix, his length filling you up and curving into that spot so perfectly..

you both moan loudly, derek’s shaking hands flying up to grab your waist. 

cove takes advantage of you and derek slumped together, lining up with your ass and sinking in to the hilt, cove and derek groaning in unison, a loud curse and moan tipping from your throat.

derek growls, his face contorted in pleasure. "i-i can feel you through.. through…" derek pants, his fingers digging into your skin.

cove leans over your back, stealing a kiss from derek, making a show of slipping his tongue into his mouth and he starts to move, distracting you from the scene.

derek breaks the kiss, whining. he can feel cove's ladder piercing through your walls, with every thrust the piercing drags against your walls and the underside of derek's cock.

"fuck! your piercing.." derek grits his teeth, swallowing.

you drag your nails over derek's chest, cove's thrusts forcing you into derek. your eyes roll back, moans spilling from your lips without restraint.

you're so full, and when derek starts moving, his hips weakly thrusting up into you, the clapping of skin and lewd moans mixing together just make your head spin and it's all you can think about.

you don't even realize you're babbling curses and pleads and calls of cove and derek's name until cove laughs, pointing out your mindless dribbling.

"if all it took was getting passed around by a couple supernatural beings to turn you into a drooling mess, we should've done this sooner!"

cove pulls you up against his chest so he can grope your chest, his nimble fingers pinching your nipples while he attacks your neck.

derek moans at the sight, tucking his bottom lip under his teeth, enjoying you being ravished by cove more than he thought he would.

this is so sinful, so dirty. but fuck if he wasn't loving every second of it… your wet cunt around his cock, your nails leaving red lines down his chest and even baxter leans over to steal a kiss from him.

baxter slips his tongue into derek's mouth, swallowing his moans and whines, biting his bottom lip teasingly when he pulls away.

baxter pets derek's flushed cheeks, his lips brushing against his when he speaks. "so cute.. do you want something else to occupy you while cove sticks his tongue down our little humans throat?"

derek nods, not thinking it through but knowing he wants something, anything baxter has to give.

"what a good angel." baxter purrs, undoing his belt tantalizingly slow and makes a show of pulling down his pants until derek his squirming, his eyes stuck between pleading with him and watching every inch of newly exposed porcelain skin.

baxter takes his dick in his hands, pushing the blushing tip against derek's lips.

derek slowly takes baxter's cock in his mouth, circling his tongue over the tip as he works his way down, gagging a bit.

baxter pushes back derek’s hair from his sweaty forehead, "don't rush. unlike some people, i won't pull my cock down your throat."

"you should reconsider," cove pipes in, drawing baxter's attention to you two. cove finally let you slump against derek's chest, your hips grinding back on derek's cock and cove bullying his cock against your tender walls.

"i think an angel looks best when they're getting face fucked." cove purrs, looking at derek take baxter down his throat with flushed cheeks, his hand coming up to stroke what isn't in his mouth.

baxter hums, peering down at derek. he does looks very pretty with his swollen, wet lips wrapped around his dick, looking up at him with round, watery eyes.

"is that so?" baxter tangles his fingers in derek's hair, thrusting up into his mouth experimentality. "have you let cove or y/n use your mouth before?"

derek tries to speak, the vibrations sending shocks through baxter, drawing a shaky groan from him.

baxter thrusts up into derek's mouth, grinning at the sound of him gagging and the spit running down his chin.

"how dirty~ what a naughty angel and priest we have." baxter purrs.

cove pulls your hips back to meet his thrusts, leaning over you to bite on your neck, his sharp teeth leaving more wounds on the area.

"all the time you two spend preaching and stopping my antics, you could be our toys instead~" cove purrs, mounting you and slamming his hips into your ass, his and derek's cock grinding against that sensitive spot inside you.

"i'm.. i'm gonna cum!" you cry, tears pooling at your bottom lashes.

"that's it, cum around our dicks." cove encourages, bullying the same spot with his cock, forcing your hips down on derek's cock, his tip hitting your cervix. “fuck, i’m gonna cum too…” cove growls, his tip bullying that spongy spot inside your walls.

derek whines, thrusting up into you, chasing his own high.

"cove!" you cry, your hands grasping for purchase. derek offers his hand, partially for his own comfort too since baxter is abusing his throat, his balls slapping against derek’s spit-covered chin.

cove cumming first is what pushes you over the edge, his ladder piercing dragging against your walls as he works through his orgasm, filling your ass with his cum.

derek follows not shortly after, his orgasm encouraged by cove’s assaulting thrusts and the prominence of his piercing rubbing against his own cock through your walls. derek hips stutter upward into your cunt, his cock throbbing as he fills you up with his cum.

“mmph!” baxter’s cock muffles derek’s noises, his dick hitting the back of his throat as he finishes, cum spilling past derek’s lips.

baxter groans, pulling out of derek’s mouth, wiping up the mess on his chin and slipping his fingers in his mouth. derek wraps his lips around baxter’s thumb, licking the digit clean before he sinks into the pillows, both of you a weak, sweaty, and flushed pile.

cove pulls out, drawing out a weak mewl from you. you hiss, lifting yourself on your weak knees to get off derek’s cock. you steal derek’s lips to swallow his barrage of whimpers and whines, slipping your tongue along his…

he growls lowly, his stomach feeling hot with the sight of your ass and cunt leaking cum, the mess running down your thighs…

“hey baxter, lets switch places. i’ve been waiting to ravish an actual angel, and y/n is making such a mess.” cove swipes up the mess, slipping his fingers back into your cunt, grinning when you shake and cry. “i think they need to be filled again..”

[teecupangel]

For your consideration: mongoose!Desmond. They're small, cute, stealthy, and fully down to throw hands qiwth a lion if need be. Hides in the hood of whichever Assassin he's accompanying at the time and jump out for attack at the most unexpected moment. Alternatively, Altair gets reincarnated in modern time as Desmond's mongoose, and just takes down the whole Abstergo facility when they dare to kidnap Desmond.

It was illegal to keep a mongoose as a pet in the United States.

That was one of the few laws that Desmond knew he was deliberately breaking.

It wasn’t like he had planned to do it from the start.

It had been a strangely freezing morning. Desmond was walking back to his apartment after a grueling 2 hours overtime that he was sure his boss wouldn’t include in his paycheck, citing some shit like “it’s because you’re too damn pretty that those drunks tried to beat each other up for your ass, Derek.” and tell him that it’s only right that he be the one to clean up the mess those two had done after hearing last call.

If he didn’t knew that his boss had the sex drive of a corpse and liked the company of dogs more than people, he would have considered his words as sexual harassment instead of the usual way his boss spoke.

But Desmond knew him long enough and has already made plans to be 2 hours late for his next shift. He’s going to tell his boss that “you don’t need to pay me for my 2 hours overtime since I deducted it from this shift” and his boss wouldn’t have the grounds to dock his pay.

Yes.

It was the ‘perfect’ revenge for his stingy rude boss.

Desmond had just rounded the corner that would lead to the back of his apartment, preferring to enter through the back than the front due to both the stairs being nearer there and also because the back door was less conspicuous.

Years away from the Farm and he still held the paranoia trained into him.

God, he was pathetic.

At that moment, Desmond looked up as he sighed.

And got smacked by some kind of falling fur.

He named the mongoose Altaïr.

To be more exact… the mongoose named himself, using the letter magnets Desmond placed on his small ref. There was only one ‘A’ so the mongoose had to drag the ‘A’ at the start of the name to the empty space between T and I repeatedly. He even went as far as use the ‘:’ magnet to form those two dots above the ‘I’.

Desmond had to look up on his phone how to properly pronounce his name.

Desmond had never had a pet nor did he even know that Altaïr was a mongoose.

He had assumed that Altaïr was some kind of really intelligent pet that someone in his apartment stole from some rich family or something. (No one in this apartment complex would have the money to buy an intelligent pet like Altaïr)

He tried to ask Altaïr who his masters are or if we can remember where he was taken from.

The bland unimpressed look Altaïr gave him made Desmond realize two things:

(1) he was being stupid asking a complicated question to Altaïr regardless of how smart he was and

(2) Altaïr was an asshole

That was fine by Desmond to be perfectly honest.

Altaïr stayed in his apartment and did his own hunting for food. He seemed to only slip inside the small opening on the window that Desmond purposely left for him whenever he wanted to relax or… use Desmond’s computer.

… not that Desmond saw Altaïr use it.

He just had a feeling that Altaïr was using his old wheezing whenever it was turned on laptop that he got for cheap from his bootlegged DVD dealer at the back of the nearest Seven Eleven from his apartment.

Desmond could probably check if Altaïr was truly using it by checking the browser history or something but…

Ignorance was bliss.

Desmond really didn’t want to find out just how scarily smart Altaïr was and suffer the consequences.

So really…

When the power was cut in the Abstergo facility where he was being held, he didn’t immediately think of Altaïr.

Honestly, he had this weird feeling that his ‘roommate’ Altaïr might be his ancestor Altaïr but that was crazy talk.

So he ignored that gut feeling.

Then Vidic got a call from someone who told him that someone had locked down the security room AND all the exits.

Then everything went silent.

He was still strapped in the Animus. He didn’t even know that the Animus had cuffs that could slide around his wrists and ankles (and fucking neck, what the fuck, Vidic) until Vidic pushed something in the Animus itself the moment the blackout happened and Desmond was still groggy from being forcibly kicked out of the Animus.

He heard Lucy whisper that someone was using the emergency sleeping gas and it was spreading throughout the facility.

Desmond was just going “???” because who the fuck added sleeping gas in their goddamn building as an ‘emergency’???

Then…

The laptop on Vidic’s station started making this beeping sound and Vidic walked towards it.

He had a moment to say that someone had taken over their computers (Desmond thought they were having a blackout??? What the ever living fuck was happening???) before the computer exploded and the shards from his monitor hit Vidic on the face and neck.

Desmond wasn’t sure if it was life threatening or not but Lucy was panicking as she rushed towards him.

And Desmond heard the soft sound of something creaking. He looked at where the sound came from and noticed the vent on the floor was now open.

And Altaïr the freakishly intelligent mongoose quietly scampered towards the Animus, looking over Desmond for a moment before scuttling towards the section of the Animus where-

The cuffs keeping Desmond still slid off and Desmond sat up.

They both stared at each other.

And Desmond finally sighed as he admitted, “Okay… you’re no ordinary animal, are you?”

Altaïr gave him the same bland unimpressed expression he had given him all those years ago.

And Desmond realized that it looked exactly how his ancestor would look whenever he heard something stupid from one of the novices.

Well…

Shit.

[hedwig221b]

Do you have any fic recs that involve chasing? Like Derek gives in to the urge to run after stiles and catch him?

I kind of didn't really understand what you were asking lol so here are a few types of "chase" fics:

Mating Run Fics:

Wants & Needs by MadcapRomantic

Derek Hale has been participating in the Beacon Hills Mating Run for a decade, each year coming up without a mate. His mother, convinced this is his lucky year, persuades him to run one last time.

Enter Stiles, a young Omega with an unwanted Alpha nipping at his heels.

Family or not, Peter is determined to have Stiles. But convinced they are True Mates, there isn't anything Derek won't do to keep Stiles safe.

The Cursed Wolf by SinQueen69

2023 Suggestion Anon Wanted: Feral alpha Derek, who has been cursed and got in that feral state. The only way to lift the curse is the "sacrifice" of a pure heart. And Virgin Omega Stiles is willing to help him but the ritual has to be a mating run.

When Things Go Right by SylvieW

Stiles is nervous for the mating run. What if his soulmate is disappointed? Scott’s convinced that Allison will catch him, but Stiles isn’t so sure of his best friend’s girl, and the results could be upsetting for everyone.

Angel Choirs and Magic by LadyDrace

Derek has been very, very patient, and has shown frankly incredible self-control in the face of brutal teasing and flirting for two months. But now it's time for the mating run, and he's about to get his reward.

Except for how maybe it's actually Stiles getting a treat. Win/win.

Stiles gets kidnapped and Derek gives a chase:

Out of Focus by exclamation

Stiles was taken prisoner by a coven of witches. Now his only chance of getting home is if he learns how to control his own magic… and stops blowing stuff up by accident. With surging power inside him that he can't restrain, Stiles must deal with memories of the nogitsune, and fears that he might end up hurting those he cares about.

Meanwhile, his family and friends don't even know if he's alive. His father desperately searches for answers, and Derek will do anything in his power to find Stiles, even if it means asking an Argent for help.

of gods & monsters by Dexterous_Sinistrous

“I’m not the best at conversation. I’ve been told I have no finesse for it.”

Stiles took a step closer to Derek, pushing the billowing silk out of the way. “And what would you say if you looked at me now?”

Derek looked up, startled for a moment when he realized he was now looking at Stiles’ unveiled face. He was silent for a beat, taking in Stiles’ features for the first time, convinced he would never see such beauty unveiled for him alone.

Stiles runs away and Derek catches his ass:

between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam

A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void.

It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.

My Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous

“If he wants to mate Stiles, why not let him?” Jackson asked, ready to part with Stiles if need be.

“Because if I did that, I’d be demoting Lydia,” Alpha Stilinski replied.

“We don’t even know how good of a Beta he is,” Lydia countered, bristling some that her status was being challenged.

“That’s because he’s not a Beta,” Alpha Stilinski stated. “He’s an Alpha.”

If you wanted fics with their own chasing scenes, I am sorry to inform you that I have a memory of a goldfish, and do not remember any in particular, though I am sure they exist somewhere in the wild. If someone knows some, please, feel free to add!

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | mafia

[inmyminditsreal]

Crushes and camping

Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Word count: 1k

Summary: You decide to go camping with the team, You have a crush on Spencer and have been looking forward to this for a while. Oh, look! You have to share a tent..

SORRY I'VE BEEN GONE SO LONG!! school has been beating my ass 😭. This is very rusty im sorry.

Camping!!

On a rare long weekend for you and the team, you all decide to go camping. With only a little bit of objections you settle that it would be fun and a nice way to relax. In contrast to your very chaotic work schedule. You would be going to some remote wooded area, a “special” spot as you had said. You’re the one leading this camping operation. And as the day comes for you to pack and get ready, you start to stress. Telling yourself it will be fine. It will be fine.

The day comes. It’s around 8am. Everyone’s cars are parked outside your house. Everyone carrying bags. You're not the one who's going to be driving. It’s Hotch. You’ll be Navigating. Which kinda freaks you out, just a little.

“All right, are we ready to go?” Asks Derek as he loads the last few bags into the back of your car. You chime back with, “Yeah I think we’re all set.” Looking around catching nods from the rest of the team.

Everyone awkwardly piles into the car, it’s cozy, in a ‘ready for a road trip’ type of way. You’re in the passenger seat, Hotch in the driver's seat. Spencer and Derek sitting in the middle two, with JJ, Emily, and Penelope piled in the back three. Cozy. You’re very excited for this trip. Your family hadn’t really been big on camping, and anytime you did go, it ended in catastrophe.

You pull out a map as Hotch pulls out of your driveway and onto the street.

“Finally” you sigh.

About two hours fly by and you’re finally outside of civilization. The beautiful trees meet your eyes and you smile. It’s around early fall so it’s still quite warm but the leaves are vibrant shades of red, orange and yellow. You also see Spencer, reading a book with his elbow on the arm rest. He looks perfect reading there. You stare for a while then, you’re brought back to reality when Hotch asks,

“Where's the next turn?” You freak out a little, having lost your place and flip over the map a few times before finding your place and adding, “Right up the street, I'll tell you when I see it.” He nods. You look at Derek and see him smirking at you, he winks. You look away, embarrassed.

After four hours, a little bit of screaming directions, silly jokes, stares between you and Spencer, and stifled giggles later, you make it to the campsite. Stepping out of the car you wobble around for a second. You have only taken a few bathroom breaks/snack stops so your legs feel like jelly. You stretch all your limbs.

“Oh my god! We made it. I thought we’d be trapped in there forever.” Penelope laughs while hopping out of the car.

JJ adds, “God, I know right.” Emily and Spencer laugh.

Everyone’s out of the car and you walk around to find the perfect spot. After around 10 minutes you find the most perfect place ever and say, “This is it.”

“Damn okay, this is nice.” Derek smiles while laying down the bags. He was carrying most of them. After setting up the tents, you frown. You’re missing a tent. Asking everyone if they had brought a tent you come to the conclusion that you had, forgot, a tent. Feeling so very embarrassed you say, “Shit, I’m sorry guys, I made sure to check everything. I swear I brought one.”

“It’s okay, just means SOMEONE will have to share.” Derek laughs while looking between you and Spencer.

Spencer smiles and looks at you, you smile too. Hotch notices people looking for an answer and states, “I’ll decide who shares. You and Spencer,” While pointing at the two of you. The girls giggle rapidly behind you while they share knowing glances at each other. They know you like him. Derek laughs as soon as he sees your face go bright red. You smile, nod at Spencer and say, “Alright, who’s ready for a bonfire.”

Everyone nods as you go to gather firewood. “Hey, can I come with you?” Spencer asks as you’re about to leave. You’re surprised by this because he has been ignoring you the last week or so, but nonetheless say, “Sure yea.”

You begin the walk, grabbing some firewood, and looking at each other every few seconds before you break the silence and ask, “Why have you been ignoring me, Spencer, did I do something wrong?”

There’s a silence that rips you in half, until,

“I like you too much.”

“Wait what?”

“You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to hold, to love and cherish. I can’t deal with those emotions. I love you.”

You’re stunned, and by this time you’re already back at the campsite and it's getting dark. So you part ways and start the fire. The flames barely envelop your feelings, you have no idea what to do. Sitting around the fire, you keep looking at Spencer, to find him already looking at you. After scary stories and s'mores, around midnight you decide to call it. Everyone leaves to their tents. You put out the fire before walking towards yours.

Spencers inside, reading a book. The only light coming from a warm lantern. He notices you walk in and sits up, placing his book down. You change into pajamas in your sleeping bag. You finally meet his eyes and he says, “I’m sorry I made things awkward, I know you don’t have an answer and that’s okay but-”

“I love you too.”

“Really?”

“Always.”

You wrap him in a bear hug, breathing in the scent of pine and coffee with too much sugar. You both lay down and he says, “Goodnight.”

“One more thing, Spence.”

“Sure, yea.”

You kiss him softly while holding his cheeks. After pulling away he looks stunned, as you roll over.

“Hey- what you can’t just roll over after that.”

“Goodnight, Spencer.” you say as you turn off the light.

You cuddled him to death that night. He loved every second of it.

[only-one-brain-cell]

The team doesn’t fully understand Spencers daddy issues because he never told them what he went through while taking care of Diana. He never told them about the abuse, (he’ll take that secret to his grave) about the times when she forgot who he was. Sure he’s probably given them a summery of it but they don’t understand how deep his childhood trama is.

That plus the bullying (which everyone kinda blew off anyways *insert that scene from Elephants memory here*) also L.D.S.K “Hotch I was a 12 year old prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school… you kick like a nine year old girl.” Which insinuates Spencer got beat up in school and it was never talked about again.

He was dealing with ALLL of this by himself because he couldn’t talk to his mom about it, so logically you would go to another parent but in Spencer’s case William Reid decided to peace the fuck out and not even take Spencer with him, or give a half assed reason why he can’t take Spencer.

When Rossi and Derek followed Spencer to Vegas in Memoriam they were so confused why Spencer was so hostile towards his dad. I bet they didn’t expect Spencer to be happy to see his dad but the level of bitchiness Spencer displayed towards Willam probably confused Derek and Rossi (framing Willam for murder aside) because Spencer never told any of them the full story, they assumed it was a average “oh my dad left” story which still is incredibly selfish but in Spencer’s case takes it to a while other level.

Fuck Willam Reid for leaving his CHILD to care for his mentality ill wife.

[topguncortez]

The Professor | Chapter 5

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: Derek confronts you about what he saw in Professor Seresin's office. Jake invites you over for an important dinner.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: age gap, mentions of smut, mentions of parental death, mentions of a house fire, power imbalance, blackmail, excessive drinking, phone sex, mutual masturbation.

In the three years you’ve known Derek McAndrew, you never knew him to be this quiet. He was always trying to talk to you, saying anything and everything that would come to his mind. You thought maybe he was really focused on the poem that Jake had assigned for the class to read. But then you looked up from your own document and found him staring you down that you knew the silence wasn’t because he was deep in thought. 

“Okay, what is it?” You asked, setting down your document, “What’s with the silence?” 

“What silence? I am reading,” Derek shrugged. 

“Alright, now that’s bullshit because you’re not reading, you’ve been staring me down. So. . . what is with the silence?” You asked again. 

Derek sighed and sat back in his chair and looked around the study room. Lucy had left nearly half an hour ago to go get coffee and snacks for all three of you, knowing that tonight was probably going to be a long night. Derek had the image of you sitting on Professor Seresin’s lap ingrained in his mind all weekend. At first, he didn’t think what he saw was correct. There was no way that someone as dignified as yourself would stoop so low as to fucking your professor. Derek thought maybe it was some other girl who had long beautiful hair and was wearing a ratty gray longhorn sweatshirt and mom jeans. But then Derek thought, who else would wear longhorn apparel in Chestnut Hill, besides Jake Seresin. 

You raised your eyebrows and held your hand out for Derek to spill whatever it is he was holding on to. 

“Are you fucking our professor?” 

“What!?” 

Your heart was beating in your ears. You had strict instructions when it came to hooking up with Jake. There was not to be any sort of fornication on campus. Even though his office was on the fourth floor of the English building and his windows were dark, you still didn’t want to take the chance. But you had given in, slightly, last week, allowing a heavy make out session to break out in his office. You sat on his lap, as you ran your fingers through his blonde locks, as his hands roamed your body. It felt nice to sit there, feel his strong arms around you as the two of you would take a small break for him to check an email or you a text, and then went back to tongues clashing. 

“That’s fucking crazy. You’ve lost your damn-” 

“So it’s true!” Derek shouted and you looked around at the study room you were in. You gave an apologetic smile to a group who was nearby studying. You stood up and walked out the door, slamming it closed, and drawing the blind, before facing Derek. 

“Look, I don’t know what the hell it is you think you saw but-” 

“You only curse like this when you’re lying,” Derek pointed out, “You’re also clenching your fists, another thing you do when you’re lying.” 

You were shaking and crossed your arms over your chest. He was right, those were things you did when you were lying. You hated that Derek knew you like this. Suddenly, you were praying for Lucy or someone to come bursting through the door. 

“It’s not what you-” 

“It’s not what I think?” Derek scoffed, “You’re going to tell me that it’s not what I fucking think?! I caught you making out with our fucking professor in his office. I have every right to report him and you!” 

“Me?!” You exclaimed. 

“Yes, you!” Derek yelled and pushed himself up from his seat, “You are cheating! You are using him to get ahead! It’s fucking academic dishonesty! I could report you to Dean Simpson and have your ass kicked out of the fucking program by noon tomorrow!”

You flinched as he yelled, your throat starting to constrict with tears. You hadn’t ever thought what would happen if you got caught. You knew it wouldn’t be good, and there would be rumors and probably an investigation, but you didn’t know that it could go as far as you getting kicked out.

“And how fucking stupid does Seresin have to be to throw away a fucking career for you," Derek spat.

“What do you want?” You said through clenched teeth. 

“You.” 

“Not fucking happening,” You scoffed, “You think I would want to be with you after what the fuck you just said!” 

Derek smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, “You like him, don’t you.” 

“I don’t fucking like him,” You muttered, “He’s a fucking sadistic dick who gets off on making his students miserable. I’m his fucking teaching assistant for intro to English.” 

“And you suck his dick.” 

“You’re just mad that I won’t suck yours.” 

“No,” Derek scoffed, “I am mad that you are getting all the fucking insight in how to pass his fucking class. I need this Y/N, I need to pass this fucking class. I can’t have a bad grade, it’ll tank my opportunity for the Berkeley program.” 

“And what do you think would happen to me if I fail this class?” 

“You don’t have to worry. Your fucking personal essay will save your ass. Just talk about how your parents went up in. . .” Derek stopped talking as he saw the tears starting to run down your face. 

“Say it,” You sneered. 

“Flames,” He said softly, “Y/N, I-” Derek moved to take a step towards you, but you held your hand up to stop him. He sighed and closed his eyes. 

“What do you want? Last fucking time I’m asking,” You said. 

“C average, that’s what I need on the last projects and exams to be able to get a C in the class. You do that for me. . . and I won’t tell Dean Simpson about you and Seresin.” 

You wanted to vomit. It took everything in you to stop you from running over and slapping the fuck out of Derek McAndrew. But instead you nodded, “You got a deal.” 

Jake let out a loud groan as he heard the incessant buzzing of his cell phone from his dresser. One of his sleep methods, which ensured that he got his full eight hours, was to place his phone across the room from himself. It also prevented himself from falling back asleep when his alarm rang. The first time his phone went off, he ignored it, but now it was ringing again, and Jake was pissed. He pushed back the covers and shuffled his way over to his dresser. 

“Hello?” He asked, not bothering to look at the caller ID. 

“Jacob!” You slurred over the receiver. Jake furrowed his eyebrows and pulled the phone back, double checking that it was in fact you calling him this late. 

“Do you know what time it is?” He grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

“I know what time it is.” 

“Then why. . . Can you hear me?” He furrowed his eyebrows at the sound of loud music in the background, “Are you drunk?” 

“If I was, does that mean you’re going to punish me?”  You giggled and Jake rolled his eyes. 

“Where are you?” 

“You didn’t answer the question.” 

“And you didn’t answer mine. Now, address.” 

“Sips,” You sighed and leaned against the brick building. You closed your eyes to try and stop the spinning, “Everything is spinning.” 

“Don’t move. I’ll be there in five.” 

Jake hung up, and quickly slipped on a quarter zip sweatshirt and slid on his tennis shoes. His hair was a mess and he had his glasses on, but he could care less about his appearance right now. The only thing on his mind was getting to you. He knew something had to be wrong if you were calling him drunk on a Tuesday night. Jake was privy to the drinking night shenanigans at the local bars on campus. Tuesday wasn’t usually a night where students went out and got shitfaced. He knew where Sips bar was because it was down the street from Bradley’s. 

His green eyes looked up and down the street, looking for you, and frowned as he spotted you sitting on the curb. Your head was buried in your hands and your elbows were resting on your knees. Jake put the car in park and quickly got out, going to your side. You lifted your head up at the sound of footsteps and shot Jake a smile, which quickly disappeared noticing his pissed off expression. 

“Hi,” You said to him. 

“Let’s go,” Jake said, and held his hand out to you. 

“I’m not going with you,” You shook your head, which increased the pounding behind your eyes, “Oh shit.” 

“I’m not having this argument with you,” Jake sighed, “It’s nearly 2AM, you’re intoxicated, it's cold and you don’t have anything on your arms,” You looked down at the short sleeves you were wearing, “Y/N please, let me take you home.” You looked up at him and saw the pleading look in his green eyes. You placed your hand in his, and he carefully pulled you up from the curb. 

“Whoa,” You stumbled on your feet, but Jake quickly steadied you. He kept an arm around his waist as he walked you to his range rover, opening the door and helping you up. You heard him let out a sharp sigh as he shut the door, and ran a hand through his hair as he walked around to the drivers side. You looked away from him as he climbed in, and started up the car. Jake looked over at you, and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Are you crying?” 

“No,” You said and shook your head, then sniffled. 

“Y/N. . . “ 

“I’m not crying! Just drive!” You snapped and Jake raised his hands in surrender. He started the drive back to your house, as you leaned your head against the window. Jake listened to the soft sobs and sniffles that you let out. 

“Why are you crying?” He asked again, this time a bit softer. 

“‘Cause you’re mad at me,” You whimpered. Jake let out a soft chuckle at how childlike you sounded at this moment. He glanced over at you, and noticed the glossy, tired look in your eyes. 

“I’m not mad,” Jake said, “I’m really not. I’m glad you called me and didn’t try to drive or find your way home. I am, however, upset that you put yourself in such a vulnerable position.” 

“God, you sound like my dad.” Jake’s breath caught in his throat at the mention of your late father. He blamed it on the alcohol in your system, stopping you from thinking clearly. “I don’t think he’d like you very much.” 

“Because I’m old?” 

“Nah. . . longhorn fan,” You looked over at him and scrunched your nose. Jake shook his head with a laugh. The car settled in silence as Jake continued down the streets of Chestnut Hill, going off the memory of the night he took you home. He frowned as he pulled into your driveway, and found the house completely dark. He then looked over at you, and found you asleep. Jake smiled to himself, and didn’t have the heart to wake you up. 

Instead, he put the car in park and turned off the ignition. He quietly got out of his side, and walked over to your side. Jake unbuckled you and then easily picked you up in his arms. You stirred for a second, and then settled against his chest, nuzzling your head into his neck. 

“Where are your keys?” Jake whispered to you as he walked up to the front door. 

“Don’t use them,” You grumbled and Jake rolled his eyes. He opened the door and kicked it closed with his foot, “Second room, on right.” 

Jake nodded, even though you couldn’t see him, and walked down to what he assumed was your bedroom. He took in the sight of the various band posters, shoes kicked around, and records laying around the small bedroom. It smelled just like you, the scent of vanilla and a hint of rose petals. Jake laid you down gently on one side of your bed, and pulled the covers back on the other. He took off the converse on your feet and set them at the foot of the bed. 

“Are you comfortable?” Jake asked you. 

“Pants,” You mumbled and Jake nodded. He carefully took the sweatpants off your legs and tossed them into the overflowing hamper in the corner of the room. He then picked up your body and laid you down on the side with the pulled back covers. Jake made sure to put you on your side, and tucked the blankets in around you. 

“Good ni-” 

“Stay,” You asked, and grabbed his wrist, “Please?” 

“What about your rules?” Jake smiled softly. 

“Hall pass. One time,” You shrugged and Jake nodded, “Morning sex cures hangovers.” 

“I believe the only real cure for hangovers is time,” Jake kicked off his shoes, and climbed into bed next to you. He laid on top of the covers and you shuffled over to him, laying your head on his chest. 

“Thank you,” You whispered. 

“No problem,” Jake tucked a hand behind his head. He couldn’t help but pull you in close, and place a kiss on the crown of your head, “Good night, sweetheart.” 

The sunlight was bright as it shone through the open blinds of your room. You always made sure that the curtain was drawn, having an eastern facing window. You cursed, and rolled over on your other side, facing the door. It took you a moment as you pushed yourself up on your hands and realized that you were in fact, in your own bed. Then the memories of the fight with Derek and leaving the library in near tears to go out for a drink, which turned into much more than one, filled your mind. 

“Oh fuck,” You groaned and looked over at your alarm clock. It was 12 in the afternoon, and you had already missed Jake’s lecture. Jake. He must be the reason you are home. You rubbed your eyes as you climbed out of bed, your feet hitting the cold hard wood as you walked down to the bathroom. Turning the light on, you noticed a pink sticky note on the mirror. 

‘Got too drunk last night and needed a ride. P.S. you talk in your sleep. - J’ 

You rolled your eyes, taking the note down. You did your morning routine, even though it was slightly delayed by the hangover. You took the note back to your room, setting it down on a stack of books on your desk. Your phone had been placed on the charger, probably Jake’s doing and you picked it up, seeing a full screen of notifications, most of which were from Derek. 

‘I’m so sorry for what I said last night Y/N’ 

‘I didn’t mean to bring up your parents, but you have to understand that it’s not fair what you are doing’ 

‘Please answer me’ 

‘Where did you go last night? Are you okay?’ 

‘Well he’s fucking pissed today, so I guess you didn’t suck his dick this morning’ 

You rolled your eyes and deleted the rest of the messages from Derek. You even contemplated going as far as blocking his phone number, but refrained. His words still played in your mind like an endless loop. You had to be careful with what you do or say around Derek, knowing that he knows about your deal with Professor Seresin.

The next set of messages were from Lucy, promptly freaking out as to why there was an expensive car with a longhorns sticker on the back windshield in your driveway. You made a mental note of making sure you had a conversation with Lucy about everything next. You trust that she won’t have the same reaction as Derek did. But the last message was what shocked you more than Lucy’s. 

‘Jake: Text me when you get up so I know you didn’t die of alcohol poisoning’

You smiled and messaged him back, ‘I’m awake. And I don’t talk in my sleep.’ 

Jake was sitting at his desk looking over Bob’s dissertation about space dust when his phone buzzed. He sighed in relief, thankful to have a break from the reading. He didn’t know shit about space dust, nor did he care, but he knew that Bob wasn’t a gifted writer as Jake was. So, Jake was doing Bob a solid and looked over the paper for him. Jake smiled at his phone as he read your message and replied. 

‘Jake: I beg to differ. Started reciting I sing the body electric.’ 

‘You: What can I say? Good piece of poetry.’ You bit your lip as you leaned against the counter, waiting for your toast to pop up. 

‘Then I suggest Desire by Langston Huges as your next read,’ Jake shifted himself at his desk, feeling the growing hard on press against his black boxers. 

‘Only if you read it to me’ You squeezed your thighs together as you took a bite of your buttered toast. You watched your screen for a moment seeing the three dots dance for several moments then stop. The time stamp under your message looked back at you like a sore thumb. You quickly started typing an apology to him, when a voice message appeared in your inbox. 

Your eyes widened and you looked around the kitchen then pressed play on the message. 

“Desire to us-” 

“Holy fuck,” You stopped the recording, the sound of his voice was low, thick and deep with his accent and it sent a shiver straight through your core. You quickly ran upstairs, abandoning your toast on the counter and straight to your room. You climbed on your bed, resting your back against the headboard, and slipped your headphones in. 

You pressed play, and Jake’s deep voice sounded in your ears. 

He took a breath, “Desire to us was like a double death. . . , swift dying of our mingled breath. . ., evaporation of an unknown strange perfume between us quickly. . . in a naked room.” 

You felt your pussy clenching around nothing as you listened back to his words of the poem. You weren’t sure why the sound of his voice was turning you on like this. Maybe it was the thought of him sitting in his office alone, wearing some expensive suit, his messy hair and glasses on, cock straining to get out of his trousers. You licked your lips, and let out a strained breath as you clicked on his contact and rang him. 

“You’re awake,” His voice flooded through your ears again. 

“I am,” You said back. Jake shifted again, his pants had become uncomfortable and he knew you were probably struggling too, “That poem. . . it’s interesting.” 

“It is. It’s one of Langston’s most popular. Captures the essence of love making beautifully.” 

“Love making, huh? What’s the difference between fucking and love making?” 

“The passion,” Jake’s voice sounded breathy as he spoke. You couldn’t help but drift your hand down your body, to your clothed cunt feeling that your panties were soaked, “The slow, languid thrusts. Pushing your bodies into one another in hopes to become one. The feeling of being in your purest form, not a single ounce of embarrassment as you bury yourself deep into the body of your partner.” Jake’s hand ran over the zipper of his trousers, feeling the hardness of his cock. 

“Do you prefer love making over fucking?” 

“Don’t you?” 

“Can’t say I have made love, professor,” Your fingers found themselves dragging your panties down your thighs, leaving you bare from the waist down. You spread your legs and drew slow circles over your clit. 

“Then you haven’t been fucked properly,” Jake groaned, and unzipped his trousers. He pulled them down enough to pull his hard cock out, “Then again, it was easy enough to satisfy you, so that tells me that whoever came before me, wasn’t getting you off.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You sighed, you dipped your index finger into your center. 

“Are you touching yourself?” 

“Are you?” 

“Yes,” Jake answered and tilted his head back as he squeezed himself, running his hand up and down his shaft. 

“Langston Hughes gets you this turned on?” You teased, and added another finger to your cunt, curling them up to touch against the spongy part of your insides. 

“Could say the same for you, little one,” Jake’s voice dropped an octave, “Tell me how it feels. I want to know what you do when I’m not around to stuff your little hole with my cock.” 

“Feels good,” You grunted, moving your fingers rapidly. You were thankful for putting in your headphones and had your phone sitting next to you. Your other hand came down to circle your clit, which caused a loud moan to leave your lips, “But not enough. My fingers. . . yours are bigger, fill me up more.” 

“Fucking Christ,” 

“Not quite,” You smirked, remembering the small comeback he had said to you one night. 

“Shut up, or I’ll tell you to stop,” Jake’s hand moved faster up his shaft, “Fuck, I wish you were here. I’d have you doing this for me. Better yet, I’d rather be in you, feeling your pussy clench around me. God, you always feel so fucking amazing around me.” 

“Jake,” You felt that familiar burning in your stomach as you closed your eyes shut, “Please.” 

“You close? I bet you are,” Jake smirked, “So pathetic. Literally get off at the simplest things.” 

“Says the man jerking off in his office right now,” You breathed out, but was followed by a moan, “Please, Jake, I need to cum. Can I please?” 

“Fuck, yes, cum for me. Let me hear you,” Jake clenched his jaw as he worked himself quicker, hearing your beautiful moans through the receiver. He wasn’t far behind, cumming into his hand, making sure none dripped on to his suit. He held his cock in his hand for a moment, letting himself catch his breath, before reaching for a kleenex. 

You laid on your bed, completely spent and feeling the stickiness of your cum between your thighs. It was silent for just a moment, the only sounds heard were the sounds of your spent breathing. Jake had cleaned himself and put his pants back on properly. 

“I need to see you,” Jake said, breaking the silence, “Tomorrow night, preferably.” 

“Can’t get enough of me can you?” You smirked. 

Jake smiled and shook his head, “I guess you can say that but it’s uh. . . for dinner.” 

“Dinner?” 

“Yeah, dinner. . . with my mother.”

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