#late s8 fic

[teiasviago]

Anybody Miss Me?

AO3 | @today-in-fic

She doesn’t really know what to think. I mean, of course, there’s the Oh my Gods and the He’s alives, but... It’s hard to shake off the anxiety that’s weighed her down since the moment she realized Mulder was gone. His hand feels the same in hers, at least, and every so often she slides her fingers down to his wrist to check his pulse. Doggett and Skinner tried to convince her to go home, to let them wait for Mulder to wake up, but Scully didn’t budge from her chair. How could she? She hadn’t seen Mulder since... Hadn’t talked to him since...

No. She’ll be the first one he sees when he wakes up. The baby wriggles inside her and she rubs her hand over her belly. “It’s okay now,” Scully whispers, swiping her thumb back and forth. “Daddy’s back.”

A twitch of Mulder’s hand and she jerks her head up, leaning close to him. “Mulder?” She blinks back tears as he opens his eyes, taking in the room, and then looking over at her. Her mouth is agape but she can’t bring herself to close it. “Hi...” she breathes, incapable of thinking of anything else to say—her relief and happiness are insurmountable.

“Who are you?” Mulder says, furrowing his brows, and it’s like time comes to a screeching halt. No, no, no, no...

Then his lips quirk in a smile and she fights one off as a sob escapes her. “Oh, my god. Don’t do that to me.” Scully laces their fingers together, bringing her free hand to his hair. “Do you know...? Do you have any idea what you’ve been through?” She lets herself get lost in his mossy green eyes.

He shakes his head a bit. “Only what I see in your face,” Mulder answers. “Anybody miss me?”

And Scully knows he’s expecting her to chuckle through the tears but she can’t hold it in anymore—all the grief and fear and stress clawing their way out. “Yes,” she sobs, burying her face in his chest. She swears she hears him give a breathy, “Oh,” as her tears soak into his hospital gown. “We missed you so much.”

“Surely Skinner wasn’t quite that broken up,” Mulder whispers after a long moment, stroking her hair with the hand not trapped beneath her.

Scully shakes her head against him and brings his hand to her belly, sliding it under her shirt to rest against where the baby is insistently pressing their foot. She feels the breath get knocked out of him and lifts her head to look him in the eyes.

“I found out the day they took you,” she tells him, stroking his face. “You were missing for three months, like I was. And I tried so hard to find you, to get you back...” Scully purses her lips against a sob and swallows it down. “They discarded you, and when we found you, we thought you were dead.” She sucks in a shaky breath. “I had to bury you with your family,” she cries, tears cascading down her face to adorn his hospital gown. “I thought I had to go this alone.” She squeezes his hand on her belly.

“Oh, Scully,” he whispers, and she leans forward to press their foreheads together. “How did you get me back? And how did this—” Mulder caresses her belly. “—happen?”

She finally chuckles. “It’s a long story—we almost lost you. And I still don’t know how I got pregnant. I mean,” she smiles, “we were having a lot of unprotected sex, so that’s how it literally happened. But I don’t know how I ovulated. I can’t have any tests done until after the baby comes.”

He’s silent again for a long moment, and then: “I’m sorry.”

Scully pulls away to look him in the eyes. “What for?”

“Not being here.”

“Mulder, it’s not your fault, you—”

“Were abducted? Wow, Scully, how the tables have turned,” he jokes, and she bursts out laughing. “But, um, I know. Not my fault. I’m just sorry that I couldn’t be here for...for it all. Sorry for myself. Sorry for us.” She nods, exhaling contentedly. “Do you know...?”

“The gender?” He nods. “No, I... I couldn’t do it without you. I just kept thinking of what you’d say.”

He searches her gaze, taking her in like he always has, like he can never get enough of her. “Like what?”

“Like... ‘I told you, Scully: Never give up on a miracle.’ I’d put the pictures on the fridge and you’d come up behind me, hug me, hold my belly. You’d say something like, ‘I think he’s gonna win a Nobel for physics,’ or, ‘She’s gonna be a baseball ace, I just know it.’ And we’d laugh, and we’d be... We’d be so happy.”

“I’m happy to be back,” Mulder tells her, voice choked with tears, and suddenly she’s crying again.

“I’m glad you’re back,” Scully says, smoothing his hair and cupping his cheek before leaning down to kiss him. She rests her head on his chest again, grinning as tears stream down her face when the baby kicks against their hands.

“Maybe soccer,” Mulder suggests, and they both laugh.

[mylittleredgirl]

every time i see one of those posts about how fans can’t send their headcanons or fics to professional writers because then they can never use those ideas, i think about going back in time just long enough to tell teen me to fold up my “scully gets pregnant with a magical baby and it might be mulder’s baby or it might be an alien and we just don’t know” fic, put it in an envelope, and address it to chris carter. could have saved us all a lot of trouble

[leopardmask-ao3]

Day 10 - Stress

Drabble for @hermitadaymay.

“I have a kind of strange question for you, Stress.”

“Yeah, Joe? Fire away, then.”

“...What's it feel like? Being... made of Void and all.”

“...Huh.” Stress mulled this over. “I ain't exactly got a reference for bein’ anything else, so I dunno what you're wanting to hear...”

“Do your best, I guess?”

“Well...” Stress mused. “You lot can get a bit... disconnected from what's around ya. Even though we're all part of it together, y'know? Bein' a piece of Void means feeling that connection, super clearly, all the time.” She smiled. “It's certainly not something to be afraid of.”

[irenespring]

Me: I've covered a lot of really intense and sad things both with the SGE setting and with canon Hilson parallels. I think I have gotten as angsty as I'm going to get with "A Clearly Discernible Line"

Chapter Eight:

[casmilton]

alright after 91w ive had my fill of au’s for the time being. need canonverse fics desperately

[awordsmith]

omitted thoughts 𝜗𝜚 s.r

۶ৎ in which the tension between you and Spencer at work is almost too much to bare; lingering eyes and longing needs that are ignorant to the people around you, but all too easily perceived by the other.

who? spencer x bau!reader  when? s8  category: smut  content warnings: (maeve plotline does not exist, emily is still with the bau) munch spencer, tension here–tension there–tension everywhere, thorough foreplay (as in practically the entire fic), sexual acts, not too explicit, no dom/sub really mentioned–though spencer is a little more confident, proofed! reid with pleasure...  word count: 11.4k a/n: munch spencer as per requested by an anon!! this one has been in my filing cabinet for a while, so i'm glad i've finally gotten to write it out... also, new format–hey! okay i'll stop rambling... enjoy!!

There is a moment in every person’s life when they just know something sinister is about to unfold. That feeling found its way to you the exact moment the mixup with the rooms happened. It was bound to occur, it wasn’t like it was inevitable–you of all people were accustomed. Though, to be particularly truthful, it wasn’t the mixup that strangled your thoughts, no, it wasn’t as trivial as that.

What had your heart racing–your mind running–was that you were paired with Spencer. You should have said something. You were sure Emily would switch with you in a heartbeat–she and Spencer got along well enough, that it wouldn’t be a favor at all. However, even with this knowledge, you kept your mouth shut.

It was something in your gut, something in the darkest parts of your mind that swayed the moral, logical side.

It was late and the dimly lit hall only had so much life. You noted the old, peeling, pee-colored wallpaper; red flowers straying to and fro–if you tried hard enough, you could almost picture how it must have looked like in its prime.

Spencer made no effort to talk and for this you were grateful. You hadn’t had the chance to get too close to him in the few months you’ve been with the team. You were new, but not unaccustomed–you had been transferred almost six months ago with the help of thorough recommendations and pure skill–though you never pulled rank.

Hotch seemed a nice enough dad-boss, Rossi gave the impression of a comedic uncle most of the time, Morgan took his role as the older brother, Emily and JJ were great mentors and you were thrilled to be working alongside them, and you found Penelope to be a strong aunt-like figure. Spencer, though, you weren’t too sure where he fell in the categories you had enlisted just yet. 

He was a great mystery, one you were keen to unravel little by little.

“Do you have a preferred side?” Spencer asked after completing a skim with his bedbug flashlight.

“No,” you glanced around the room, two queen beds sat adjacent to each other only separated by a mediocre bedside table. A home phone sat close to the bed nearest the door and a lamp sat closest to the bed nearest the AC and window. The old, red velvet curtains were pulled back in what you thought was meant to be a kind gesture. Nevertheless, for an unknown reason, it left a bad taste in your mouth. “But, I do think we should close those,” you sighed, setting your duffle bag in the only chair in the room.

Spencer set his things on the bed near the window. You began untying the curtain closest to the bathroom. A shiver crawled up your spine as the air around you grew dry, you were seriously hoping for hot water. You meant to throw Spencer a hopeful glance, praying he’d let you take a shower first–but your eyes caught his hands instead. He was working his sleeves back, unbuttoning them as quickly as he could.

His sweater vest had been discarded and now lay in a bunched-up pile near his suitcase. You found yourself tracking his every move. He didn’t take notice of your stare until after he’d untied the curtain and met it with the one you had undid. You swiftly averted your eyes and swallowed, finding your throat had gone dry.

You cleared your throat and pushed your hair away, giving Spencer nothing but back, “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to shower first.”

Seconds ticked by and he said nothing, only when you heard a bed squeak did you turn back around. Spencer took up a space at the head of his bed, watching you with a look you were sure you’d never seen cross his face, it was almost smug, but not in the normal sense of the word–as indescribable as it was, it didn’t make you uncomfortable. You weren’t too sure what it made you feel.

“Is–is that a yes?” Your face felt hot, and you wanted to slap your hands to it, knowing it’d cool down somewhat, but you forced your hands to remain at your side.

“Yeah, sure,” he quipped, his voice the complete opposite of what his eyes conveyed.

You nodded and hurried over to your bag, leaving it at the foot of your bed when heading into the bathroom, which is where you found it upon exiting. 

Spencer had pulled pajamas out, they were neatly folded beside him. “I’d wait a little before showering,” you frowned, “sorry, I must have been in there for ages,” your mouth lilted in a slight smile as you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and took up residence near the bedside table, “next time, just to tell me I’m taking too long, I won’t mind.”

He chuckled and you grinned, elated you finally were able to ease the unnecessary tension that had come over the two of you during your staring contest in the moments right before your shower.

“Seriously?” He sounded mirthful and when you looked up his eyes caught yours, your heart studded and you found your cheeks heating up again. He had an eyebrow raised slightly and the small smile that accompanied his expression gave off the impression he was teasing, “You’d be fine with me just walking into the bathroom while you’re in the shower?”

Your eyebrows scrunched together in slight confusion and you couldn’t help the awkward smile that wouldn’t leave your mouth, “I was just joking, Spencer, but–if I am taking too long you can bang on or yell through the door.

He nodded, looking away, “I–I know, I was just messing with you.”

“Oh, please,” you snorted and rolled your eyes, trying to crush the way your thoughts raced at the way you absolutely would not give a half a damn if he did. You pressed your hand to your cheeks for a few seconds before continuing to move things out of your bag, you were thinking about how to arrange them in the large chifforobe directly across from your bed. Did Spencer hav–you gasped and dropped an article of clothing as if it had burned you.

“That was not–” you scorned yourself, that was completely inappropriate. You blinked over a few times, thinking it would make the image disappear well from your mind, but it only served to intensify the phantasmagoria.

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer was at your side after three blinks. Your eyes widened as he reached for your hands that were opening and closing, trying to grasp any control over yourself. 

You stood abruptly, unable to be in any sort of vicinity he was near. “I’m fine–I just, I remembered, I forgot something in the lobby. It must have fallen.” You shrugged, forcing a horrid excuse for a smile onto your lips. You left the room, heading straight for the elevator. You needed the cold-biting air of December to slap some sense into you, it was almost January, thus winter should have been approaching its peak right about now.

You have never–okay, yes, you’ve had small torrent thoughts of coworkers in somewhat unprofessional manners, but none had ever been so vivid–not like the one you had just then. As the elevator opened, you tried assembling the course of thoughts that had led up to the–the Spencer one.

It only took a few minutes for you to understand thinking about it was useless. There was no coherent explanation for the thought you had, no indication of any type of build-up that might have prepared you for the fabrication. 

“His eyes,” you heard yourself murmur as the elevator let you off onto the first floor. You ignored the receptionist whom you recognized from only a few hours ago. The glass door was as easily pushed open as it was to pull; the biting air hit your face and you sighed, relief allowing you to breathe once more.

His sleeves were rolled up, your arms laced around his neck as you pulled him against your flushed, exposed skin. You were nearly naked and all but begging him. You had it. His attention. Every single piece of it.

And you were relishing it as he fucked you against that damned chifforobe.

You were startled by the discovery of Spencer’s presence as he pushed open one of the glass doors of the hotel. The carpark was desolate save for the two of you and you felt more vulnerable than you had felt in the daydream.

“Hey,” Spencer lifted his hand slightly, sticking it back in his pocket right after as if he’d cringed at himself.

“Oh, hi,” you pressed your lips into a thin smile, squeezing your eyes so as not to give away the fact that you did not want him to be there.

“You–kind of ran off, I just wanted to make sure you were alright…” his eyes traced up and down your body as if in search of something. A slight smirk grazed his lips, but it was quickly replaced with a frown that felt a little too compelled, “did you find what you were looking for?”

“Nope,” you squeaked, rocking back and forth on your heels. You squeezed your hands together behind your back like you were in prayer or giving thanks, “sorry for bringing you out here, I thought I lost something important and overreacted.”

He didn’t acknowledge your answer immediately, though he did step forward and when he took another step forward, you were inclined to take a step back because you thought the proximity might prompt you to do or say something you definitely shouldn’t be doing or saying with a coworker. He raised his hand to your face, the back of his hand rested on one of your cheeks, your eyes shut on impact, your hands separated and were not fisted.

Your eyes opened when a few low chuckles escaped Spencer’s mouth, he huffed out a few more before pulling his hand back and using it to cover his mouth…watching you. His eyes held that same smug amusement that you’re sure you’ve never seen before this night.

You met his stare, noting that with the coverage of his hand, his expression was just a bit easier to read. Your lips settled into a thin line as you concluded he was messing with you. You cast an unbothered expression over your face, though you felt anything but. “I think the water should be hot enough now.”

Disregarding the moral obligation of waiting for a response, you headed for the hotel’s entrance.

The elevator ride-up wasn’t as tense as you would have thought it to be. You could feel a calm rest over each other’s company. It was almost like a mutual understanding that did not need voicing. Back in the hotel room, Spencer headed into the bathroom without a word, again, you found yourself grateful he decided to spare you.

Even so, you did find it just a bit peculiar because Spencer had never before taken on any particular interest in you, sure you shared conversations–that was to be expected though, as you worked with him. You shared meals and nights out, though only when it was a group thing.

To be sure he drew your curiosity, but you never once thought about indulging in your secret desire because it just never seemed right. This mixup had felt like a gift from God when it was first introduced, because now–you had thought–we’ll be forced to be around each other, no doubt we’ll grow somewhat accustomed to each other’s habits. 

Perhaps the thought was a bit excessive, but it was simply the truth to you. How else were you to casually approach Dr. Spencer Reid? The youngest to be scouted in his field?

Well, you now thought grimly, scratch all that, he’s just a genius with an ego.

You approached the chifforobe hesitantly, then hastily sorted your clothing in a few drawers and on a few hangers that were already there. As you set your duffle bag at the bottom of the large space, you heard the shower squeak off and Spencer called your name.

You rolled your eyes but walked toward the bathroom, calling from your side of the closed door, “what?” 

“I,” his voice cut off and just when you thought you had waited long enough, the bathroom door swung open halfway and Spencer leaned out. 

The first thing you noticed–though unintentionally–was the steam that hit you in the face. You squinted and waved a hand before you, “Jeez, Spencer.”

His face–his hair was wet and water dripped down his head–looked a bit painted, “I left my towel in my bag, get it for me?” 

He sounded genuinely displeased at the situation, which is why you huffed and replied, “Fine.”

“Thank you,” he yelled, shutting the door again. You ignored the flip your stomach did and shivered. 

He had left his suitcase open, his things in a bit of disarray across the bed. You wavered only a moment before letting your hands fly up and down his things. His towel was quite easily discovered, though your eyes lingered on the rest of his things.

You stood and headed back toward the bathroom, knocking. Spencer appeared instantly, a smile spreading to his face. The steam had cooled somewhat, but the bathroom–you could tell–was still very much sauna-like. “Thank you.”

“You said that already.”

He raised a brow, his smile quirking, “thank you, again.”

He stole the towel and shut the door, leaving you standing there. You felt impulsive and thought there would be no way you could get through this entire trip by sharing a room with him. And yet, it was your job, and it would no doubt be questioned, you’d probably–by accident–allude to something that did not occur, and you’d both be in trouble for something so ridiculous: it shouldn’t even be a thought that crossed your mind when you looked at your coworker and yet–the bathroom door opened and Spencer walked out in only a towel–it did.

“What do you think you're doing?” You called from your bed, standing.

“It’s too moist in there, I won’t dry.” He replied as if it were a fact and not an atrocity.

“Yeah–but–” you bit your lip, eyes tracking up and down his torso, something you should most unquestionably not be doing.

He was bent over his things on the bed near the window, you turned your gaze on the floor when his eyes flickered to yours. “But what?” He paused, probably noting your expression, your pursed lips, and your unstill gaze. “I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable I can go back in. I don’t want to–I’m sorry.” You swore you could hear a lilt in his voice when he began, but it quickly turned into something more…appropriate–like he just realized the embarrassment of what he was doing. He gathered his clothes again and headed for the bathroom, returning a few minutes later in damp garments.

And though his frown said ‘I’m sorry,’ his eyes said, ‘I’m going to give you hell’. And hell it was. For the rest of the trip, you could swear Spencer did…things purposefully. Such as lifting his shirt slightly to wipe his face when he got out of the shower, turning his neck just barely so that your gaze would catch on the exposed collarbone. You swore up and down that these were being done on purpose just to make you squirm because–because–well you didn’t really know why Spencer was doing all that. 

But you knew it was for you, that was about the only thing you knew to be fact. Your nose scrunched as you recalled the looks he’d given you after every purposeful act–in such a way that it seemed like he wanted to see your reaction–as if he gets off on it.

The jet ride home was no exception to Spencer’s antics, but by this time you had decided for yourself you’d had enough of falling victim to him. You concluded that there could only be one reason Spencer was acting the way he was: because he was attracted to you. You didn’t know why–hell you couldn’t even explain why you were attracted to him in that way–but it piqued your curiosity. If he had the ability to get you to react in such distinct and significant ways, what power did you have over him? That was the dispute you set out to ascertain.

At first, it was harmless, quiet jokes told only loud enough for the two of you to hear. When the jet landed again, you ran a hand through your hair and threw your head back, as if trying to stretch. Your eyes popped open just a few minutes later to find Spencer’s eyes eating up everything from your neck to your collarbone. When he met your eyes, they weren’t amused but rather accusing. He had fallen into your trap and he had just now realised. Some genius, you found yourself regarding him with an internal snort.

“We get the day off tomorrow, right?” Emily’s tone was mirthful, full of sarcasm.

“Yeah, right.” Morgan groaned.

Hotch grimaced, “See you all tomorrow.”

“At nine?” Rossi sounded hopeful.

Your boss sighed, eyes: rolling, but a smile etching itself onto his face, “At nine.”

Small victories, a sigh escaped you under your breath, small victories.

You headed for your car, rummaging through your purse for your keys. A presence loomed over you and you froze, Spencer’s hand lightly pressed against your back as he leaned over you and tilted his head downward, “See you tomorrow —…”

Your breath caught and you tried to swallow, but your mouth was dry. Was this real? Was this not the nerdy little geek you were told you’d be working with? The guy who kept getting kidnapped? The one who could barely hold a gun four years into working in the BAU?

He walked away, down the row of cars, looking for the one he owned.

Despite yourself, your lips curled into a sinful grin. You already loved this game. 

The next morning, you caught Spencer stepping into the elevator, “hold the door!” You threw your hand out, as you rushed your footsteps.

The elevator wasn’t crowded, but there were five others you did not know, and they were all men, so naturally you moved closer to Spencer. It wasn’t on purpose, but nor was it an accident, more of an instinct. His presence gave you peace of mind as you calmed yourself down.

“Rough morning?” He asked, appearing nonchalant.

You looked up at him as he took a sip of his coffee. The elevator came to a halt and two people shuffled into the elevator after three others left. Your floor was approaching and you felt easier–especially with the extra space–but when you stepped away, a hand caught your waist.

You followed the arm all the way to Spencer’s gaze, the expression there looked to be a mix of contemplation and confusion. His hand dropped when the elevator dinged and the doors opened. He was the first to step out of the elevator, you were the fourth.

Penelope found you on her way to the roundtable, stating the others were already there. You followed her and took the only available seat in between Morgan and JJ. Spencer sat right across from you, between Emily and Rossi. When you caught his eyes, his head tilted slightly and a small smirk danced across his lips in the bright light. 

Your eyes rolled and you shifted one leg over the other under the table. 

Penelope read off the new case and while many questions were thrown out, you and Spencer kept playing the game of ‘who could make who more embarrassed’; though you both were incredibly refined at your job and were able to keep it from the insight of the others.

Hotch stood and said, “jet’s up in 15,” before rushing out of the room.

You stood as well, needing to collect all the things you might have left on your desk and turn in your report to Hotch you forgot. Rossi had followed your boss–it was probably something about Strauss, it always was whenever they acted like that. Emily, Morgan, and Penelope were having a conversation while JJ said something to Spencer and began a small exchanges. Your eyes were laser focused on her, you felt a sort of conviction fall over you. You didn’t think you were jealous, no–it was anything like that because you knew Spencer was only trying to get under your skin. Instead, you felt a sense of thrill and couldn’t help the smirk that edged its way onto your face as you floated right past them without batting an eye.

You heard his chair squeak as he leaned back, eyes trailing your figure as you exited the roundtable room. Upon approaching your desk you smacked your hands to your cheeks, helping them cool off while ignoring the chatter of the office. You searched your bag a bit until you found the documents you had been looking for.

You froze, you could feel his stare, but when you glanced around, you couldn’t find him anywhere. Your eyes narrowed as you sifted through each and every face, there–in the breakroom behind the glass… Spencer had one hand in his pocket and one holding a mug of coffee, his eyes anything but innocent. He mouthed something, but only when you noted the absense of your other team members were you able to put together his words. We’re leaving.

You met each other in the stairwell of the rooftop, you ignored the simmering in your chest as he veered over you and pushed open the door. He smelled good– god he smelled good. You forced yourself not the make it obvious you were trying to drink in and savor his scent when he let out a shuddering breath. Your eyes popped open–which is when you realized you had shut them. What is wrong with me? You allowed your eyes to track up his face, starting from his shoulders.

He was so close you could see him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing as he stared you donw, mouth slightly ajar. His eyes were hazy and he wasn’t staring at you, but your throat. It was only for a few seconds, but it felt like hours. When he found your gaze again his jaw yet and he pulled himself together. His eyes were no longer dangerous, but they still set some kind of fear in you.

“We should go,” you murmured.

He didn’t respond until you began moving. He called your name only once, but when you looked back, a grin–small, but fucking there–destroyed his firm calmness from only moments ago, and replaced it with egotistical destruction.

There were so much said in that single expression and yet nothing at all that would have been picked up by a team of profilers, let alone a stranger–it was as if this look was designed specifically for you–designed just to become your undoing. You fucking hated Spencer Reid and his big ass ego, but you wanted him–by all hell you wanted him.

Though you’d soon find that wanting him was nothing compared to needing him.

The rest of the case came and went in a similar manner you had dreamt about the night before. You and Spencer shared lingering looks, murmured things in front of the team that, though made sense in the moment, his the underlying meaning only the two of you could pick up. You honestly found it surprising no one had caught on to what was transpiring between you and Spencer, although to be perfectly honest, you, yourself, had no idea what was transpiring between you and Spencer.

You didn’t seek each other out, but whenever you were together–alone or with others–there was this spark of craving you couldn’t quite explain out loud, and even when you thought about it, you didn’t know the right term for it other than a game. What else could it be? You couldn’t relly put togehter the events that had started it, but you knew it began sometimes on the 3-day case–maybe even that first night in the hotel. A shiver crawled up your spine, you watched Spencer out of the corner of your eye, reading. He could normally be found in the front of the jet, lying down and napping or reading.

When you were alone, all your thoughts revolved if not around the case at hand, Spencer. You didn’t want to compare it to an obsession, because what it really was was a little less of that and a little more of a desire to learn him. His body, his mind, his cravings and and fantasies. It was everything you had never felt and it scared you. There was no logical explanation to Spencer being the onset to these emotions, and yet if you’d never met Spencer, who was to say these feelings would have ever been unleashed?

It was late, but you were glad you were going to get to sleep in your bed two nights in a row. It felt like a blessing from the heavens, but then your realzied you’d have to see Spencer again tomorrow and go through the fervency all over again. Now, it felt more like irony.

Weeks of the same longing, the same wandering eyes, the same muttered whispers, the same damn game. Though you’d gotten used to your little gambit of brash actions, you weren’t tired in the least. It was–as sad as you had to admit–the most fun you’d ever had with a person.

It was fun until it became real. The team hadn’t caught on, but that was particularly due to the fact your efforts always occurred out of pure chance. You never made it obvious and he was especially good at hiding his feats, it seemed to you he was consistently able to accomplish his devious acts right under the nose of his superiors. 

You reasoned that it was perhaps because none of them would ever suspect him of any of the things he was taking up in his pastime. Not even yourself would have guessed he was like this if he hadn’t shown you, or if you hadn’t noticed the way his eyes always seemed to look the opposite of whatever his face was saying in the moment.

Despite all of this, however, you hadn’t touched–at all, no brush of the hands, no accidental shoulder bumping, nor anything on purpose; not since he’d grabbed your waist in the elevator that first day back at Quantico. The contemplation in his eyes then occurred to you at night. You tried to make out what it meant–to him at least, but never could. It was one of those thoughts that kept you up, staring at the ceiling, hoping exhaustion would so its job and prevent the misery that inveitable came without it.

Tonight, though, you didn’t know how you were going to fare against pretending to be with him. It was for the case–you kept reminding yourself as you changed into a little black dress. Everyone looked good in black, it was a color that also hid a person well enough in a club–perfect for an undercover agent.

The decision to have you go in with Spencer instead of JJ was his idea. Of course it was his. He’d proposed the switchup at the roundtable meeting that morning–and as soon as he had, you’d jolted in your seat. He’d continued talking, glancing at you now and then as if he’d actually believed the difference between you and JJ would matter.

Regardless, because you were closer in age–by only a few years, you’d wanted to remind everyone–it’d be more believable that you were together, he’d also dropped an “it’d be more comfortable that way”, which swayed Morgan and Emily, JJ kept silent during the entire tirade–though not angry, was incredibly, almost blatantly long. 

You couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but at the time you weren’t too much focussed on her, the looming fact that you’d have to touch him in ways you’d only thought about touching him to do your job? It terrified you. Not because you were afraid of acting out your fantasy–but because you weren’t sure if you could control yourself enoug to where it was just acting.

You slipped the dainty dress on and hid your gun and badge in your boots. You let your natural hair fall loose, but kept a hair tie on your wrist. Stepping out of the only bathroom in the police station you were currently residing in, holding your work clothes against your chest , you noted the imminent stares. Instinctively using your clothing to cover your thighs as you met the others in the front. Spencer kept his eyes in check–smart boy, you bit back a smirk–but the rest of the team complimented you, Hotch and Rossi having almost completely different ways of doing so, you snorted at the contrast. 

Spencer took the driver seat of a vehicle you were borrowing, the dark of a December night threatening to conceal the thing entirely. You gazed out the window, “they’re following us right?”

“Everyone will be outside and prepared.”

“I can’t believe this,” you sighed, throwing your head back.

“The fact that we’re going undercover or the fact that you have to wear that piece of cloth?” Spencer asked, though his manner was light, there was a rough undertone that heated your insides.

“I was wondering when you were going to bring it up,” you sighed carelessly, waving a hand, “I just thought you hadn’t noticed.”

“Everyone noticed.” The mask of his facade was slowly slipping away, revealing a much colder side to Spencer–one you had the pleasure of seeing more and more of the past three weeks than in all of the six months you’d been in the BAU.

“Yeah,” you smooth down the dress, “I wouldn’t normally wear this type of thing out unless I was looking to bring someone home.”

“Oh really?” You could practically hear his eyebrows raise. “You never wear things like that when we go out for drinks.”

“Precisely my point,” you quipped.

Spencer pulled into the club’s parkinglot. It took you less than five minutes to get inside. At first, you were sitting at the bar, but then, Spencer, with the earpiece attached to him, relayed the message from Hotch. Penelope had given everyone access to the inside of the club, they were watching you two through the cameras. You forced yourself not to glance at them–even the tiniest slipup could reveal you to the unsub, and you wanted them to target, not avoid you.

“They want us to dance.” Spencer sighed loud enough to where you could hear it over the noise.

“Right,” you rolled your eyes, because that’s exactly how the unsubs target their victims–didn’t we go over this in the profile? Your smile tightened as you spun and headed for the floor, crowded by so many–oh that’s not hygienic.

“Yeah, okay, maybe we skip this part,” Spencer grimaced from his palace beside you.

“You think?” You raised an unimpressed brow at the blurred figures in front of you.

He murmured something Hotch and they went back and forth a little, though you couldn’t hear exactly what was said, Spencer’s face of triumph was all you needed to breathe a sigh of relief.

You found yourselves hiding in the corner at the back, there weren’t many people crowding around you which made you perfect for the unsubs, though the appearance of them at this club tonight was purely based on instinct, gut feelings, and careful, calculated guessing, there was still a chance they wouldn’t show themselves.

You didn’t mean for it to happen like this, you were doing everything in your power to stay composed and in control, but some part of you–the defiant, terrible side of you–wanted so badly to see his reaction when you touched him.

His frame leaned over you, holding you against the probably dirty wall, the sensual music that played a heavy beat around you felt like an instigator. Sweat slipped down his neck and it drew your attention, all of a sudden Spencer tensed, then he relaxed slightly but it felt forced, “They have eyes on the unsubs.”

“How many,” You compelled your eyes to stay on his though they wanted to scour the area around you and find just exactly who he was talking about–which would be idiotic, of course.

“That’s right,” he swallowed–ignoring your question, your eyes caught his throat bobbing–he noticed. “Keep your eyes on me,” you nodded at his words, feeling your throat drying as you neglected the need to trace his collarbone with both your fingers and gaze.

His hair was a mess of damp curls and his face was barely visible in the bright, flashing lights, but you had a job to do–and yet here you were, gripping the collar of his shirt, brushing back the hair that fell in his face as he looked at you with those eyes.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said, “but if you aren’t up for this just tell me now.” His voice lilted at a challenge, but you heard the mumble ordered in the earpiece–by hell he could yank you hair almost completely out and you wouldn’t give a damn.

You held his regard with one of your own, eyes narrowed, “Just do it.”

And he did. But he also didn’t. His smirk narrowed ere leaning in. He gripped your face with an elephants strength and a swan’s gracefulness. You closed your eyes, waiting for his lips, but he swerved at the last moment and kissed the skin below your ear. He trailed a few kisses down your neck but stayed close to your hearing range, evidently, he was teasing–you wanted to scoff but couldn’t find it in you to make him stop.

“How’s this?” He murmured.

“You’re an ass,” you replied huffed, trying to mask a groan.

He grinned against your neck, “I know.”

The club case was the reason you and Spencer now ensured you were always together. From then on, you seemed to not want to be anywhere else the other wasn’t–or rather, you felt more comfortable with each other and couldn’t bring yourselves to leave the other alone.

Not that either of you minded and you still did your jobs perfectly fine–though there was more intensity when the other was in any sort of danger, it only propelled the one that wasn’t to learn how to do their job quicker. It was both a fast track to understanding how to adapt to constant situations that warped your idea of what was really going on. When he got something wrong–which was rare but not absolute. After about a month of this, you were starting to question what you were to him–what he was to you.

Though you still weren’t sure how to properly ask that question. You hadn’t slept together, though you thought about it all the time you weren’t at work…and perhaps sometimes when you were… Those thoughts slipped through on occasion–but it wasn't anything that hadn’t been transpiring before the club case.

It was as if the ‘who can make the other person more embarrassed’ game had been turned into the ‘what can I do to make you squirm this time’ game. Like the rules of the game had somehow intensified and touching was now allowed and despite all of the things that ensued upon the new rule instatement, you still had not taken it further than work.

It kept you up most nights, and you wondered when this cycle of what are we would end–if it would take one of you getting into a relationship–though you were sure Spencer didn’t have to worry about you in that department–and although you hated it, the fact was that Spencer was the only one you could think about. It was as if the man had ruined sex for you altogether. 

You fucking hated Spencer Reid–and that fucking chifforobe. 

Your heart dropped in your chest. You refused to give Spencer the satisfaction of looking over at him–though he seemed just as surprised as you. At this point anything could happen–and by anything you mean anything. Because anything would be better than having to share a room with him again. You were so tired you could barely recall what that even meant.

But then again, a small part of you whispered, this could be your chance. My chance? You scoffed, my chance at what? Making a fool of myself? Because confronting him means admitting I can’t stop–thinking about him. And that, to you, would feel like admitting defeat. It’d feel like losing the game–oh and you really felt like you were winning! Winning at what again? God, you needed sleep.

“Are you planning on getting in the shower first?,” he asked as soon as you were behind the door, away from prying ears and nosy coworkers.

You let out a heavy sigh and held your arms up to stretch, yawning–“honestly, I might just head to bed, it’s late and I could really use the sleep.”

“Have you not been able to sleep at night?” He set his things on the bed near the window as you claimed the one near the door.

“You have no idea,” you murmured, although a bit more to yourself than to him.

“Do you know why?” He seemed genuinely curious–but as you faced him, all you could think was, if only you knew.

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’ and grimaced as you laid your back against the bed, arms spread like a starfish, your duffle bag discarded near your feet at the end of the bed.

You felt Spencer watching you, but for the first time in a while, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You quite literally had been running on nothing but coffee for the past day and a half–and you were in desperate need of some sleep–especially if you wanted to be at your best tomorrow.

“Here,” you hadn't heard Spencer approach you–you blamed his Hotch training. You cracked open an eye as he pushed you on your side. Your back burned at where he’d touched you, but it was quickly overshadowed when you heard him yank the bedspread down as hard as he could. “Come, on,” he huffed, pulling your shoes off and setting them beside your bag.

You forced yourself under the cover and snuggled, “the light?” you grumbled.

“First, your blazer,” he held out a hand. You whined but made quick work of ridding yourself of the fabric. “You sure you don’t want to change into something more comfortable–”

“Spencer.” You warned.

“Yeah, I hear you,” he reached for the lamp atop the bedside table–smaller than the one from the last hotel room you’d shared–the chifforobe near the window was smaller as well. He hummed as the thoughts faded in and passed through his mind.

Spencer found himself forgetting everything else as he sat in the bed opposite yours and leaned his arms on his thighs, watching you. A few minutes passed, but only when a knock sounded on the door did he realize he maybe shouldn’t be watching his coworker like a creep. Though, you weren’t really a coworker, were you?

Well–he meant you were–but you were also more than that, though he didn’t exactly know if your relationship had a name, he knew that it entailed things normal coworkers did not have. He knew what he wanted–but to outright say it felt like disrupting the sort of balance you’d gotten accustomed to–as if going out and actually attempting to take what he wanted would break the trance that had set over the two of you–it’d be throwing all the rule’s to the game away, and then what did either of you have left? Rules were important, if not necessary. He couldn’t chance it–not yet at least.

“Hey, oh,” Morgan tried looking around the room.

Spencer felt his eyes roll as he stepped into the hall and shut the door slightly behind him, careful not to shut it completely as he didn’t have the key card and he didn’t want to wake you up. “Yes?”

Morgan nodded behind him, “she’s asleep?”

“She’s really tired,” Spencer affirmed.

“Right,” his eyes fell back on Spencer, and for a second, he thought Morgan might be analyzing his form.

“Was there something you needed?” Spencer pressed, eager to head back into the room, unpack his suitcase, and head to bed himself.

“Ah, no, we were just going to order food–but I guess you don’t want anything either?”

“Uh, no, but thanks for asking.”

“Uh-huh,” Morgan once again glanced behind Spencer, whose irritation at the suspicion was steadily increasing.

“She’d not dead,” Spencer stated, though he meant it as a joke it came out rather harsh.

“Alright, pretty boy, I didn’t say she was.” Morgan chuckled, patting Spencer on the shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”

Spencer made quick work of unloading his things, he thought about getting in the shower but feared it’d wake you. Instead, he debated on whether or not he should leave your things in you bag or do you a favor and put them away. He didn’t want you to consider him a snoop, especially with how you’d been looking at each other the past few weeks–and that undercover case.

His heartbeat picked up, and he couldn't stop thinking about it–it was the thing he fell asleep to at night; it was gradually eating away at him, and he couldn’t deny the way his body tensed whenever he recalled the image of you under the flashing array of lights–how you’d looked so…submissive.

He hastily shoved that thought to the furthest corner he could find in his mind and headed for your bag. He didn’t want to be brash with the way he put your clothing away, but he also didn’t you to wake up while he was holding your underwear–then he’d truly feel like a creep. 

He was halfway done when you mumbled something; he froze and he could feel the thump of his heart in his chest. Though it was still winter, he’d begun to sweat and had set his glasses aside because they kept sliding off the bridge of his nose. He’d been wearing them more often than not for the past few months as he’d found them to be a particular fascination of yours. It was now that he squinted and moved his hand around for them.

His footsteps carried him quietly across the room, near your bedside. “—?” He whispered and when you failed to respond, lifted a tentative hand to your cheek–though just before the pads of his fingertips met your skin, you mumbled something again–and this time, he could hear it. He fisted his hand and used the bedside table to hold himself up, and although he couldn’t see them, he knew his hands were turning white with how hard he was squeezing them.

Again. He wanted to hear it again–his prayers were answered as you shifted slightly, tugging the cover up to your neck. Skimming down your person, he bit his fist and tried to calm himself down. Again. He needed to sit down, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He felt it twitch–he needed to walk away right now. And he did, but instead of picking up where he’d left off with your clothing, he headed for the bathroom, not bothering to turn the light on as he shut himself in complete darkness.

Images of you, your stolen glances, and desperate touches filled his mind. He was particularly focused on the tired way you slurred his name in your sleep. He wondered what kind of dreams you were having, what you were picturing as you said his name like that. He muffled his groans as he stroked himself, using his fist to bite back anything that might escape the small confines of the washroom. His thoughts of you were possibly the only thing he allowed himself to go to extensive lengths with. His mouth watered at the mere concept of you and your twisting legs. He’d done this a considerable amount of times before–but this was the first time you were so close– a hairsbreadth away.

It felt both right and wrong, and yet the lines began fading into oblivion as he came closer to climax.

He whimpered into his hand just as he came. It was odd, he didn’t too much feel like a creep after he cleaned himself up, but upon washing his hands profusely and returning to put your garments away, he was once more–afraid of what you’d think if you caught him messing with your things.

Although a part of him felt it might have been because he wanted you to find him in that state, he tried rationalizing–but the more he thought about it–even as he now rested his head against a pillow–the more he found that ‘might’ to be absolute truth. 

You woke up to the smell of coffee. You stretched, yawned, and pried your eyes open. Rolling onto your side, you found Spencer devouring a book, his glasses at the tip of his nose. You smiled, thinking you were dreaming–but then his eyes shifted over to yours and your smile fell, you quickly understood this Spencer was real–oh no–your cheeks burned from last night's delusions. “Good morning,” he smiled. You groaned and sat up, your hands finding your cheeks, “what time is it?”

“It’s around six, you have,” he checked his watch, “an hour and thirty minutes, Hotch wants us ready before eight.”

You huffed and threw yourself back against the pillows. New Years had come and gone and you hadn't even celebrated...though, your mind with all the ways you could make up for it–you shook the thoughts away, now was not the time.

Five minutes later you were searching for your clothing, but your bag was practically empty, “did you move my things?”

Spencer choked on his coffee, “ah–yeah,” he motioned toward the chifforobe. You glared at it as he said, “It’s small, so some of our things are mixed, but you should be able to find whatever you’re looking for easily.”

“Thank you” You appreciated his simple act of affection, it made your chest ache.

“Yeah, sure.” Despite going back to reading his book, Spencer snuck small glimpses of you from the corners of his eyes.

As the hot water ran down your back, you found yourself thinking of Spencer, just a few feet away, you were practically naked and he could walk in at any moment, you felt an ache between your thighs, but you shrugged it off–or at least you tried to.

You hadn’t had sex since that incident with Spencer a few weeks ago. You tried–by all God did you try–but you just couldn’t It led to a few arguments with the guys you’d taken home–and your credit, you did feel just a little bad. All the same, you simply couldn’t seem to get him out of your mind. It was like he was mocking or watching you every time you attempted it–he was that tiny, little voice in the back of your head feigning disappointment, saying you wouldn’t purge the sexual frustration unless it were him. Though you were a saint at keeping it hidden, your agitation only built.

The day was more or less: “Spencer, what do you see?” from Hotch and “—, if you were the unsub…” from Morgan. Penelope was on call a few times and you were so close, but it had grown late and you needed sufficient unwinding. After a group dinner in the hotel lobby that primarily consisted of takeout and the small meal provided by the hotel staff, you headed up to your room. Spencer stayed to grab one last cup of coffee before the staff closed the mailroom for good. Thus, with your alone time, you decided to wash off all the griminess of the day.

You were drying yourself with a towel when you heard him enter, “I’m almost done,” you shouted, “I think there’s still some hot water left.”

His lack of response piqued your curiosity. You threw your clothing on once you were mostly just damp and yanked the door open. You were pulling your hair back into a ponytail when he looked up. He’d just set his cup of coffee on the table near the lamp, which now that you noticed, was the only light that lit up the room, he had turned the big llight off.

“You okay?” You rubbed your face, dropping your hands to your side right after, “did you hear me?”

“No, sorry,” he frowned, “I wasn’t paying attention.” He stood.

“Oh, I just said–if you wanted to get in, there’s still hot water left.” You thrust a your thumb behind you.

“Ah, thanks.” You nodded and pursed your lips. “So, what book were you reading this morning?” You took up the spot Spencer had just abandoned.

He turned and watched you–filling the area. He caught the way your legs pressed together as you crossed them to sit more comfortably against the pillows, attention to the book he’d been reading that morning.

“I’m going to get in the shower,” he cursed himself as he felt desire pool in his throat. He wondered what it’d be like to kiss you, to touch you–to taste you. His mouth watered at the prospect and he felt himself harden just like the night before. His shower was quick as the water had gotten cold and had quickly ruined his mood.

“You lied to be,” he glared at you from the threshold of the bathroom door.

You bit your lip, but still, a smile graced your mouth, “sorry, I thought it would last.” He shook his wet hair around around, mimicking the actions a puppy would.

“What?” His eyes widened slightly and his eyebrows raised, “what did you call me?”

A hand flew to your mouth, your own surprise showing, “I–” of bloody course, you said it out loud.

He stepped forward, dropping his towel on the bed, “say it again.” It was odd, the way he said it–like it was both a question and a demand–or rather, a demand he questioned your willingness to obey.

“…puppy?” you tried laughing it off, “Sorry, it just came out–I didn’t mean t–”

“Didn’t you, though?” Came a mirthful reply. Spencer stepped forward, towering over you as he leaned down, bringing his face near yours, one hand on the bed near your hips, the other on the bedside table. “Is that what you’ve thought of me this entire time?”

And what the hell were you supposed to say to that? Game on is what Spencer saw in your eyes as you set the book on the table, your hand purposely roaming over his as you pulled it back. “No,” you stated, a nonchalant expression crossing your features as your eyes turned away from his, the move calculated, “only sometimes.”

Spencer didn’t think the table would be able to withstand him much longer, but it did as he thought of ways he might proceed. Eventually, he let go and instead wrapped his firm fingers around your nape, forcing your attention to his. “And do you think that now?”

He watched a Chesire grin take its place upon your mouth. “If I said yes, would that anger you, Dr. Reid?” The mocking was unnecessary, but it sure as hell was a lot more fun than if you simply addressed him as ‘Spencer’ or ‘Reid’.

The parental-like tone you took up furthered his new-growing erection. His hair still dripped with water and as a water droplet streaked down his face, you lifted your hand to wipe it with your thumb. His hand let your your neck go to snatch your wrist–God you wanted him so badly. This witty banter–you were already starting to find–just wasn’t enough anymore.

Your eyes reapproached his, they seemed to meet with the same level of desire, completely forgetting that there was a serial killer on the loose, your eyes dipped to his lips only once before you leaned forward–but while you did he pushed you back, your back hitting the bedframe and just as you caught your breath, you found yourself being deprived of air once more.

Spencer was hungry, he tasted like coffee and something minty. Your hands tangled through his hair and while he suffocated you in the only way you’d ever want to be suffocated, you tugged. It barely stopped him the first time, but the second and third had his eyes rolling.

When they found you again, noting the playful glint in your eyes, he vowed he would go as far as you’d let him tonight–and perhaps the night after that, he hadn’t quite thought it through, and at this time, he neither had the strength nor the want to do so. 

He began tugging at your t-shirt, but you grabbed his hand, “ah-ah,” you clicked your tongue, “you have to earn that.” 

He paused and took a step back, watching you now, your knees digging into the softness of the mattress; your mouth darkened with the visceral kisses he’d forced on you. Your eyes sparked with something he knew he’d never be able to find in any other woman. His lips quirked, his eyes were hooded, and his voice thick when he asked, “What do I have to do?”

The need in his voice was enough to shed you of your clothing right then and there, but it seemed you had a lot more self-control than he did in the moment. You tugged your hair out of the loosened, droopy ponytail it had fallen into and brushed it back, smoothing it out to appear just how you wanted it to. You felt his eyes on you, patient, but every second he was, was a second his lust grew, and the moment you gave him the okay–well, he honestly couldn’t say just what he’d be capable of.

“You seem agitated, Spencer,” you pouted, shifting so that your legs fell in front of you over the edge of the bed. His eyes tracked your movements as he used your bed’s bedpost to steady himself, “just how many times have you pictured me like this?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” came his frivolity response. To be frank, he knew the exact answer to your question, but the first thing that flew into his head and out of his mouth was–to be sure–an edging reply. He watched how you interpreted it.

In a moment of unconsciousness, you glanced at the chifforobe across from you. Spencer caught that shit.

“Oh?” He raised a brow, finding the confidence to step forward.

“Don’t get any ideas, Reid.” You warned, but he could see the arguments going on between your eyes.

“No, see: I think it’s your idea.” He corrected, a deep, rumble of a laugh fell from his throat, “So, what exactly did you picture me doing with this thing.” He snorted and walked over to it, running a hand along the cupboard. You bit your lit, your dreams coming into clear view as if they were a film playing in front of you.

“Spencer,” you stood both embarrassed and a little annoyed. 

You marched over to it at placed a hand on his shoulder–but then you were against the doors of the small chifforobe and Spencer was whispering just above your ear, “Was this it? Your sick fantasies of me? Did they include me having you against a wardrobe?”

Your breath caught and you wanted to hide your face because there was no doubt he’d be able to see the truth without you having to voice any sort of answer–but the jerk had his hand cupped around your jaw, and his grip was unimaginably strong for–well, him.

He smiled and tilted his head–and God only knew what that did to your resolve. Your knees weakened and you found yourself whimpering. “So, I guess that’s a yes.” You found just enough strength to narrow your eyes and look somewhat pissed. He nodded, “the shirt,” he tugged at the bottom.

You bit back a repost as he dropped his hands and stepped away, though he kept his distance close enough to where you felt his presence even after you’d lifted your shirt and he was out of sight. His eyes didn’t leave yours, you admired his stoicism; you’d already proved you weren’t any match when your eyes traced every line anytime you saw a sliver of his stomach, hips, neck, or forearms–okay maybe you had a bit of an obsession, but could it honestly be considered that when the look he was giving you screamed ‘wolf in sheep's clothing’? 

“What other things have you thought up in that horny brain of yours, I wonder,” he spoke almost to himself, but his ever-focused gaze told you he was quite literally asking.

“That’s not how the game works,” a cheeky grin reformed your scowl.

“Right,” he paused, turning his eyes to the ceiling for effect, “remind me?”

Your eyes roved from one eye to the other, and back again, searching for any hint of hesitation, “this foreplay is kind of starting to get old.”

“Yes, I can agree–” you cut him off midsentence with a ravenous kiss. You could swear you bit him more than once, but he wasn’t complaining. Your head lulled to the side as he trailed kisses up and down your neck, finding a spot he particularly liked just below your ear.

Your hands twisted in his hair, yanking, tugging, and pulling–whatever got the most responses from him, you were doing. You threw his shirt to the side and pushed him toward the bed. He braced himself using his arms, though they were swiftly in motion again, wrapping around your waist as you stepped between his legs. “What do you want?” You asked, attempting to catch your breath.

He laughed, but when he realized you were serious he almost snorted, “What do I–what do I want?”

“It’s a simple question,” you shrugged, “what do you want from me?”

Now–now his eyes dipped, “I want a lot of things.”

You bit back another grin. Somehow in the few minutes, you’d been running around the room talking about how horny you both were, you’d ended up on the bed, your head behind a pillow. Spencer was between your legs, mouth-watering. He’s waited so long, he honestly didn’t think this foretold moment would ever actually occur, but God, was he glad he’d been wrong. Heavy, sinful eyes skimmed your lower body as he fumbled with the top of your shorts. His hands were warm despite the dreary weather outside, likely due to his recent shower. They pressed into your thighs as he brought his face just above your lower stomach, his name fell from your mouth in a whine, leading him to push aside the cover of your shorts. He drug a few fingers over your center.

Your moans sliced through the rough tension that had fallen over the hotel room. “What?” His snort was low and sloppy, “Oh, is–,” one of his fingers gently slid over you and your eyes shut, “–is this what you want?” His eyes traced the arch of your neck that was most exposed, the one lined with the red marks he’d left. The twitching beneath his sweatpants pulled a groan from his lips.

He swirled his finger around, feeling your wetness was more than inviting. “Spencer,” you cried, eyes flying open at the loss of contact. 

“Be still,” he said, his voice wavering as he tugged everything off and discarded them on the floor. You watched him watch you–it wasn’t until you noted the way his eyes narrowed that you understood he was outlining your form–so that he could vividly paint it in his mind for a later purpose.

“I asked first,” you frowned up at him.

“You’re right,” he sighed, “here: let me show you what I want.”

Your breath caught as he lowered himself, his face coming right up to you, and with the way he was drooling at the sight, you could tell he’d been thinking about this for a while–it made you wonder if his desire had begun a lot sooner than yours had.

His mouth was warm, his tongue stroked up and down as far as they could go, and even when you thought he’d reached that point, he proved you wrong. Your hands knotted in his hair as you guided his head. His mouth was warm as he lapped up everything. You tried keeping your moan to a minimum, but when he stopped, your eyes popped open–had you done something wrong? But no, he was looking up at you with those desperate, puppy-like eyes, “please,” his whisper was grating, “I want to hear you.”

You swallowed, the ache building in you, “if that’s what you want,” you nodded.

And a few moments later, you were calling out his name in a way you’d never called anyone name. This was so new, you’d never had a guy worship you like this and you couldn’t fathom the fact that Spencer wanted to do it for your pleasure as well as his own.

You tried to hold it in, but your body had been desolate of attention for so long that you just couldn’t anymore. You could hear him slurp, and God did it do something to your brain chemistry– He considered you with clouded eyes. “Are you okay?” He frowned, pushing his body over yours.

Without giving him time to settle, you yanked his jaw toward your face with firm hands, he tasted like you and smelled of his shampoo–and yet, there was still the unknown Spencer scent that seemed only his skin could produce. You lined his jaw with kisses, your heart pounding in your chest with every new groan that escaped him.

My turn,” you huffed, definitely the cause of the lopsided grin that spread across his mouth. Though his hair was a mousy brown, in the dim yellow lamplight, it was as dark as the wood that made up the vintage furniture. It looked windswept or like he had just woken up–and perhaps he had. It was no longer a deniable fact that he’d never feel this good with anyone else, and he didn’t know how long this relationship with you would last, so he would milk everything he could out of it and–and in exchange, surrender everything he had of himself.

It was only a few seconds later that you had him on his back, hands roving up and down his chest. You rubbed yourself against him, eliciting sweet sounds from his throat and friction from where you were just barely connected. You made sure to hold his gaze as you slid onto him. His jaw tightened and you could feel relief leave him as his chest fell. You tightened around him, trying to get used to him, you had to pause for a second–you couldn’t believe you were doing this–and in a moment of incompetence, you laughed.

“Sorry,” you lowered your chest onto his and began chuckling into his neck, “it’s just–what would the other think if they knew?”

Spencer pushed your shoulder away and held you above him, “I guess it’s a good thing they don’t, right?”

You nodded, but a small part of you wondered about what that meant for the after. Spencer groaned as you sat back up, you started slowly, hissing as you let him fill you. Spencer gave out his fair share of whimpers, but you wanted more, you wanted to make him cry.

You gripped his hair with one hand and the pillow beside him with another, you rolled your hips and wiggled every time you sat back down. Squeezing your thighs seemed to make him shudder the most, and when you added sucking to the mix, you knew you had him. 

“There it is,” your grin was devilish as you swiped at his cheek. He opened his eyes just in time to see you licking his tears off your thumb.

“I might ask what we are now,” you huffed a laugh as Spencer shut the bathroom door. He had been a complete gentleman about everything, cleaning you, massaging your shoulders. You’d never had such an experience, you’d never thought there could be more to having sex if you only had the right partner; now that you did, there was…but you were unsure about yourself.

You found your mind questioning all you knew about Spencer and what this all meant to you. You had asked him what he wanted from you, but did you even know what you wanted from him? Before, the question might have thrown you off–though Spencer had asked it, you weren’t taking him all too seriously. Now that you had more time to contemplate your roving thoughts, you knew the answer as if it had been written in your DNA.

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed as sat beside you, you were facing the window and the chifforobe.

“Well, what else would we be?” He paused, almost hesitatingly. You jerked your head toward his, eyes searching, and as the seconds of silence ticked by, he seemed to fade more and more into himself. When he turned his head and averted his eyes, saying, “I mean–if that’s not what you want–” you cut him off.

“No, I just–” you stopped yourself, unsure of how to explain the complications running through your mind, “I’m just not exactly sure what that means…”

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. You opened your mouth to clarify–probably more than necessary–but your words caught in your throat as Spencer stood and lowered to his knees in front of you. He was between your thighs, but there was nothing sexual about it–if anything it felt like the complete opposite kind of intimacy you had grown accustomed to with him.

His hands reached for yours, pulling them into your lap. He looked up at you with possibly the one look Spencer Reid had never given anyone. His eyes couldn’t decide which one of yours to focus on for the longest time, but when he did, his tone was guttural and almost choking, trusting. 

“The more time I spend with you, the more I feel I’ve always known you. These past few weeks–they weren’t the beginning for me.” Your mouth suddenly went dry, though you still tried to swallow. “I–I honestly don’t know when it started, but the more I felt drawn to you, the more I forced myself away. It–I don’t–I didn’t think I deserved to feel that way–I guess…”

You waited a few moments to ensure he was finished, your mind ran to look for the best possible response–but given the one-in-a-million situation you were in, your mind went blank. Instead, you rambled the first words that rolled into your mind just as you whispered the last, “I want you in every way, Spencer. It’s like–like you’ve bewitched me–”

“...body and soul,” he finished, “it’s…Jane Austen–sorry.” He cringed.

You threw your head back and laughed, then huffed, wiping a few tears from your eyes, “No, oh, no don’t worry. See this is why I love you,” Your heart came to an abrupt halt, and you felt as if you were dead, “no–I mean, I don’t–I mean, I–well, I do, but I mean–”

“It’s okay,” you followed his face as he stood and leaned down, his palm brushing across your face as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear and leaned forward, “It’s okay, know what you meant,” the end of his sentence was muffled by another kiss.

“So, do you think they’ve caught on yet?” JJ asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Uhh, I’d say probably not.” Emily nodded.

“Would you like the share with the class?” Morgan raised a brow.

“Oh, I know this one,” Penelope hand shot up, her jewelry clinking against one another, “because — and Reid still think we don’t know.”

“I mean how could we not, though?” JJ huffed a laugh, setting her mug on the table in front of her.

“Know what?” Rossi smacked his lips, startling the group of four.

“Know…the complexities of…nail polish?” Penelope tried and failed to save the group.

All four members winced as Hotch appeared seemingly out of thin air and stated, “they think we don’t know about Spencer and —.” “What?” Rossi shook his head, following Hotch, “how could we not know? They’re so obvious.”

a/n: sorry for the wait, but i do proofread my fics because i just can't stand things not being as good as they could be–i'm a bit of a perfectionist lol irregardless, happy late new year !!

@darkmatilda @theylovemelody

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | October 1st-13th 2024

Hope all my fellow Canadians had a good long weekend! Had a week from hell last week so I didn't have time to put up the rec, and it's even a bit late for today, but I did it!

If you know anyone who's not tagged, please don't hesitate to tag them in the comments!

Complete

Siri, Call... by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Sickfic | 1,5K | General): Buck is sick and needs to call for help.

for thy true-love take by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (Outsider POV, Established buddie | 2K | Teen): OR: Chimney Han and the ethics of slipping your coworkers love potions

watch out, you might get what you're after by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Getting Together | 2K | Mature): Buck unintentionally woos Eddie. And then has a hell of a time processing the way he feels about that.

i hate accidents (except when we went from friends to this) by bellabrady (Getting Together | 2K | Not Rated): Or: How Buck and Eddie's first kiss leads to someone calling the police on them.

Put To Good Use by kittyeddie (PWP, BDSM | 3K | Explicit): Or, Buck and Eddie finally have a kid-free day at home, and take advantage of every second of it

At First Scent by Inell/ @inell (Urban Fantasy AU | 4K | Teen): When Buck visits Maddie, he meets Chris, a magic user needing his sister’s help learning how to use his powers. He also meets Eddie, Christopher’s dad, and feels a connection that he’s only ever dreamed of finding.

Bears, and Foxes, and a Three-Legged Bobcat by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Pre-Buddie, First Date | 4K | General): Buck and Eddie go on a non-date date to a wildlife park. Cuteness ensues.

Just Right by Inell/ @inell (Future fic, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): After getting injured on a call, Buck wakes up the next morning and tries to piece together what happened, accidentally changing his relationship with Eddie in the process.

to adam, from your ribs by justhockey (S8, Getting Together | 4K | General): And the thing is, Buck is so good at being alone; he’s been doing it almost his whole life. But when he’s reminded of the way love tastes, drizzled like honey on your tongue - the way it feels, like the warm glow of sunlight on your skin. That is when he truly aches. Not the breaking, because he’s done that a thousand times over. It’s the knowing that really does him in. The having, for just a little while, before it’s snatched away so quickly he can still feel the burn on his fingertips from trying to hold on.

Hall Pass by Inell/ @inell (Post-S7, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): After Buck and Eddie take Jee and Mara trick or treating, Chim and Maddie play a trick of their own to help Buck finally make a move on Eddie.

it's leading me on, every time we touch by lightyears (Post-S6, Getting Together | 5K | Explicit): Eddie doesn’t think anything of it when he reaches across the table to pile some pasta onto his plate, says, “Just my back. It’s been giving me a bit of trouble.” “You’re hurt, Eddie?” Bobby asks him, and Eddie’s sure that his intention isn’t to capture the rest of the team’s attention, but by way of being Captain, it happens anyway. “I promise, Cap. I’m good. But if it helps, I can go speak with a doctor, make sure nothing else is going on.” Chim chirps up: “A physio probably makes more sense than a doctor.” “Or an occupational therapist,” Ravi suggests, and Eddie’s sure it’s to stave off a Chim-Hen showdown. “Even a massage therapist would probably help.” And then Maddie says, “Buck used to be a massage therapist” and everyone goes quiet, heads all swinging in Buck’s direction.

sweet sunbursts of flesh pink magic by Underhung_Aura/ @eddiebabygirldiaz (Canon Divergent, Witch Buck, Sex Pollen | 5K | Explicit): Buck’s magic has always been a bit volatile. Jittery. Fluctuating. A touch reckless. Messy and bright and loud. Maddie says that a person’s magic is supposed to match the person themselves, that the form it takes isn’t happenstance or random, that it’s a reflection of your purest self, an extension of your soul that you can manipulate. Safe to say, Buck’s never cared for that assessment. or, buck has magic and eddie gets doused with sex pollen

Happy Accident by Inell/ @inell (Post-S8E01: Buzzkill, Friends to Fiances | 6K | Teen): When Buck gets some good news, he accidentally kisses Eddie, which leads to a conversation that changes their relationship.

Kissing On The Corner, Wait For Just A Minute by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Secret Relationship | 6K | Teen): Buck and Eddie think they're so smooth. They're cool, calm, collected. Normal, in fact. Just two normal best friends. Nothing to see here. Nobody is convinced.

Does it bite at your edges? by noxeratum (Infidelity, Post-S7, Getting Together | 6K | Explicit): Eddie Diaz is so repressed that he thinks his jealousy is bigotry and feels bad about it.

Talk Dirty to Me by ameliahart (Post-S7, FWB | 6K | Explicit): In which Buck has recently ended things with Tommy, Eddie wants to explore his sexuality, and they decide to start sleeping together. As friends, of course.

Through the Looking Glass by jukoist/ @beforejuko (Post-S8E01: Buzzkill, Getting Together | 6K | General): Buck likes Tommy. He does! And he definitely isn't in love with Eddie. He's just... worried. Because Eddie keeps vanishing on Sundays, leaving Buck with the boyfriend he definitely likes as much as he should. Everything is fine. Or, a post 8x01 coda.

Basics, Understanding Basics by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Post-S7, Getting Together | 7K | Teen): Chris gets sick, loses part of his memory, and reassures Eddie and Buck they can still kiss in front of him. That's really thoughtful of him, except for the fact that Eddie and Buck aren't dating.

🔥All The Things You Want From Me by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Post-S7, Getting Together | 7K | Teen): “Can I ask you something?” Eddie shrugs. “Sure.” Tommy looks nervous, unsure. Tommy never looks nervous, or unsure. “Do you think Evan would move in with me if I asked him?” (Or the one where Eddie feels Buck slipping through his fingers and can’t let him go, so he tells him not to move in with Tommy and blows everything apart.)

My Carpet’s Got Crop Circles by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Eddie & Karen, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): Or, five times Karen tries to use wine nights to get Eddie and Buck together, and the one time she didn't need to.

🔥Late Fines by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Librarian!Buck | 12K | Teen): Buck is a children's librarian at the branch closest to Eddie's house. When he gets himself involved in the lives of a cute kid and his handsome single dad, he gets a glimpse of what he wants in life. It might just take a few years to get it.

Eddie Diaz VS The Buck's Boyfriend Agenda by songbvrd/ @songbvrd (Post-S7, BuckTommy Break-Up | 23K | Mature): Eddie starts gathering information about why no one trusts Tommy. As he grows to hate their relationship more, he learns more about himself and what he wants.

🔥 ice cream before dinner by cloudydaisies (Post-S7, Getting Together | 58K | Teen): or, gerrard messes with the team's schedules and eddie 'i just drove my son to flee the state' diaz is the only option to watch mara and jee-yun after school on tuesdays, which, shouldn't be a problem at all, right?

🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 102K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.

WIP

Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 5/? | 32K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 go and kill, go and die by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Zombie Apocalypse AU | 9/14 | 40K | Mature): The 118 are a group of survivors in a small California town in the wake of a zombie apocalypse. For months they've been isolated and safe. But the arrival of some new players, the search for some missing loved ones, will shake everything up and put their little team in jeopardy.

Podfic

[Podfic] déjà vu by NC Pods (N0Connections)/ @n0connections // fic by peaktotheocean/ @peaktotheocean (S7E07: Ghost of a Second Chance | 10-20min | General): It is completely possible that Buck put too much thought into buying his couch. But Eddie can’t think of anyone else in his life who would buy a couch just so his kid would be comfortable.

🔥 [Podfic] With a Little Help From my Friends by MeggieJolly/ @meggiejolly // fic  by extasiswings/ @extasiswings (Post-S3, Feelings Realization | 10-20min | Teen): “You know…several of us parents get together once, maybe twice a month or so. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like. I can add you to the email chain.” Not for the first time that day, Eddie’s surprised. It’s not that he’s opposed, more that the invitation is unexpected. He’s not particularly social—when he is it’s with the team or with Buck or with his family, all of them in each other’s houses, in each other’s lives both at work and away from it. Outside of them… It occurs to him that he’s never really known how to make friends. [Or: Eddie makes friends outside of work and realizes that Buck might not, in fact, be just a friend]

🔥 as lucky as us [Podfic] by blackglass/ @blackestglass // fic by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (Ravi POV, S7 | 20-30min | General): One of the first things Ravi learned when joining the 118 was to, under no circumstances, think too hard about Buck and Eddie’s relationship. But brother, they could try make his job easier. “I mean, I get it,” Buck’s saying, overhead, and Ravi’s knee-deep in literal human crap and even he can smell that shit from a mile away. “You and Tommy have a lot in common.” or, Ravi continually suffers as a third-wheel.

🔥 [podfic] baby, can i hold you? by All_I_Ask/ @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove // fic by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuck (pre-Buddie, angst/comfort | 30-45min | Teen): Eddie’s eyes are squeezed shut, and Buck feels something inside him crack when this helpless, devastated sob wracks his body, eyelashes clumped with tears he’s not letting fall. “What do you need?” Buck asks again. “What can I do?” Eddie makes a frustrated noise. “I don’t know. I don’t know why this won’t stop.” or, eddie panics. buck holds him.

🔥 Heart, I Implore You [Podfic] by ReformedTsunderePodfics (ReformedTsundere)/ @film-in-my-soul // fic by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampire Eddie, PWP | 45-60min | Explicit): When Buck finds out his best friend isn't exactly human, he volunteers to help keep Eddie from dying. It's definitely just to keep Eddie from dying. No other reason. None whatsoever.

Re-Read

Down to the Bones of Me by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Post-S7E10: All Fall Down | 5K | Teen): The morning after Christopher leaves Eddie gets in his truck and drives. Buck lets him go, and Eddie fights to come back for both of them.

[winterofbuddie]

summer of buddie has officially ended!

after 8 weeks, it is time for us to say goodbye to the summer of buddie.

we couldn't have possibly imagined the engagement that this event would have when we announced it. it has truly been an honor to share this time with all of you as we celebrated our love for buddie together.

as of today, there are 150 fics in our ao3 collection. that is absolutely mind-blowing!

this event was born to motivate and inspire buddie fic writers so that the evan buckley/eddie diaz tag on ao3 could reach 30k fics before the s8 premiere. it brings us so much joy that we got to reach this milestone together!

we also want to thank the gif-makers, video editors, and artists that shared their creations for this event. all of you are such an important part of this fandom and without your creativity this event wouldn't have been the same.

we are going to continue reblogging late submissions for the event until september 26th at 7pm. after that, we will consider the ao3 collection closed and we won't reblog any new posts even if we are tagged here on tumblr.

once again, thank you from the bottom of our hearts. we love buddie and we love you all.

your host,

maria (@thatbuddie)

[fandom-hoarder]

I'm currently watching season 12 of spn for the first time and oh my god, samdean are so married. Wow. Y'all were not exaggerating.

Do you have any late seasons (doesn't necessarily have to be season 12) wincest fic recs?

I'm so happy to hear you're enjoying the late seasons domesticity! I love them so much.🥰🥰🥰

Your ask has made me realize I really need to make a masterlist of my rec lists, because my tag is a mess right now lol. I do have some recs for you! IDK if you care about spoilers, but I tried to avoid s13-15 fics just in case. Many of these skew angsty with a positive ending, because that's my jam.

Mid-Late Seasons Wincest (through s12)

Fics:

Let’s Do Some Living After We Die by AmyPond45 (post s11 canon divergence)

Darkness, Darkest by themegalosaurus (ep 11x13)

Bleeding Out by themegalosaurus (ep 11x13)

Wire Inside Me by merle_p (post 12x07)

Bullet for my Valentine by merle_p (ep 11x05)

the apprentice year by deadlybride (between s7 and s8)

what lasts by deadlybride (gencest s8 canon divergence)

Getting Down And Out by verucasalt123 (post ep 10x12)

timshel by deadlybride (ep 11x20 + early seasons retrospective)

a few things worth saying by hathfrozen (s10 canon divergence)

the blood in your mouth by hathfrozen (s11 biting, cannibalism kink, sweeter than that sounds lol; I recorded podfic for this)

Camp by LaughableLament (s11 era fake relationship case fic)

Summer Film Festival of Death by OldToadWoman (case fic, canon compliant through s11; includes a side pairing for Mary)

almost rosy by shiftylinguini (post-ep 12x02)

The Starving Time by Sintari (s12 case fic)

Memory Box by smalltrolven (post 12x08/12x09, Sam has powers)

presumption by deadlybride (post 12x05)

so let it out and let it in by nowhere_blake (12x02, I made podfic for this, too)

All Things Series by sonofabiscuit77 (s12, s12)

Rec Lists:

Caretaker!Dean in the Bunker is a rec list of bunker era hurt sam fic

Mary Finds Out is mostly s12, I think, but leans Mary critical due to the request.

Self Recs:

his body is his but he gives it to me (11x09 pwp, possessive/protective exhibitionist Dean)

To Reclaim Love's Obsession (11x13/11x14 love spell)

[boykingscourt]

Do you have any fic recs? (Literally anything SPN)

hell yeah I do!

you will find him even when he is not there by LogicalBookThief (14.2k) in which pre-s8 sam begins dating a charming veterinarian, moves in with him (yes, him) and all is well and good and safe until it isn't. things get even more complicated when dean returns from purgatory acting just the way you'd expect. the cycles of abuse are cycling

Kindred Instruments by PinBitch (6.7k) in which dean faces the consequences of his own actions (sam dying in forced demon blood detox) and he and ruby have to do something about it. an au version of the end of s4/beginning of s5. the way dean and ruby fight over sam in this sets my loins ablaze

Cut to the Chase by idiotbrothers (2.1k) which is simply a very good sam leaves for stanford fic with, imo, characterization consistent with canon, no sugarcoating or trying to appeal to the dean woobifiers. sam's inner monologue in this is really heartbreaking

Lethe by Goldmonger (25.8k) in which s15 sam is hit with an age regression curse and is suddenly his 20yo self again. very good characterization and just sickening (positive) to see what stanford sam makes of his future life

My Ghosts Are Not Gone by longingparadise (22.5k) in which sam dies in cold oak and doesn't come back until amara resurrects him, not mary, for dean's "reward." conceptually this fic just rewired something in my brain and has had me constantly thinking of the s2 sam/late seasons dean dynamic. it makes me want to try writing something similar myself eventually

Awake, Arise by katsidhe (47.8k) okay so fair warning this is the only one not finished, and it hasn't been updated in a few years -- absolutely no pressure on the author I owe them my life -- but concerns s9 sam being transported back to lucifer's cage every few days as part of a curse by abaddon to bust lucifer out. it just so happens to be fresh after the gadreel arc and goddamn this author gets it. the pov switches between sam and dean and the plot just further highlights how misaligned their perspectives are. excellent characterization of everyone imo but if you get hooked and want more you can't blame me lol

[kiwinatorwaffles]

I found This is About a Stuffed Bird bc of you and its one of my favorite fics ever. Do you by chance have more suggestions?

hermitcraft/mcyt fic recs? :0 let's go!!

i get a lot of my fic recs from other friends since i don't really go out and search on my own all too much for this fandom. but there are lots of great works out here! i will be listing out some of my favorites :3 mostly hc but a couple general mcyt ones that i think are an excellent read no matter what. all of the fics i'm listing will be genfic without ships!

also i just realized a lot of my bookmarks are grian-centric which is funny i guess because i am admittedly quite picky about content of my other favorites and grian just tends to have the most content in the fanbase. hope that'll be alright

(i hope some of my friends and mutuals don't mind me tagging them for their works)

hermitcraft longfics:

the last days of the free angel of carrows by @theminecraftbee - loved stuffed bird? here's another great longfic by second! this one is about joe and cleo in an urban fantasy mystery setting. again, second writes our beloved hermits into an captivating au!

leaping and hopping on a moonshadow by @lunarblazes - a fantasy au by luna my beloved! pearl suddenly gains magical powers and goes on a quest to find her long-lost friend grian who might know what's happening to her. she meets a lot of familiar faces along the way!

Recall by @redwinterroses - hey, i was the artist for this one! :D mumbo goes missing, so grian and scar search for him. they find that grumbot has been up to some... things along the way. the fic isn't finished but i think the chapters red put out is worth a read if you don't mind leaving off on a cliffhanger because it really is super interesting

dramaturgy by wormcity - a universe where gem and pearl join in a season 7 that was never finished. mumbo became the mayor, but the turf war went so very wrong afterwards. admittedly i have not finished reading this yet because ummm short on time xD but it's super interesting with a lot of layers of drama(turgy hahaha)!

hermitcraft short fics/oneshots:

for trying. by @autistic-evil-xisuma - a stuffed bird universe oneshot of x and xisuma during their lab days. great if you want to be sad over the doomed brothers again :D

the wheels on the bus by sparxwrites - a hilarious post-s8 oneshot about grian being a little shit towards the watchers. one of the first fics i've read from this fandom and i still love it

a body is an object by ruffboi - grian is a mimic, and pearl's arrival in s8 shakes him up. she hasn't seen him in a while and is quite upset to learn that the grian she knew died a long time ago. a great read for familial connections and conflict of friendships!

Goatman and the Rift by TheDepressedCanary - doc's eldritch powers start acting up when the rift appears. what shenanigans will ensue?

other mcyt fics/crossovers:

late at night, when the stars don't look quite right by @lunarblazes - an excellent empires s1 and hermitcraft crossover longfic, where grian lands into the server and is discovered by pearl! very great worldbuilding and relationships, i especially love the dynamic between gri and pearl and pearl and gem :D

every new discovery is just a reminder by amaranthinecanicular - grian begins pulling alternate versions of the hermits from the life series into the server. he does save a lot of them, but at what cost? it does end on a cliffhanger but this is genuinely one of the most captivating oneshots i've ever read... argghhh

The Fair and the Brave and the Good by @slashmagpie - an afterlife smp longfic centered around the shelby, scott, and sausage. i have never watched afterlife smp before in my LIFE and this is still one of my favorite pieces of literature ever. the characters and worldbuilding is impeccable and perfect if you like something dark with themes of hope and renewal.

Two Can Keep a Secret (If One of Them is Red) by anonymous secretmcblog - a 3L oneshot! ren suspects grian has stockholm syndrome with his pact to stay with scar, but his expectations are wrong. a truly excellent read and one of them first fics i've read! i still go back to reread it from time to time

dog at the door by fluffy_papaya & iamsolarflare - a longfic where doc and ren take a trip on a van on their way to s8. ren, however, is not quite himself, and doc has to learn to befriend the red king.

devil town is colder in the summertime by @bananasofthorns - a oneshot from a 100hsmp/life series d&d au! team BEST ventures into a cursed evil fucked up forest. uh oh.

Interview with the Aftermath by @ranchersrevenge (wanderlasts) - the last life contestants are invited for an interview. the responses vary greatly.

stars, smoke, and stolen car keys by wormcity - a 100hsmp modern au oneshot where grian, scar, and joel go on a hike. it doesn't go quite as they expected.

the beehive state by amaranthinecanicular - a dsmp oneshot after wilbur moves to utah. tommy visits him, and the two reconnect. i have to say i stopped following dsmp a long time ago but this fic made me BAWL. i don't even think you need to know any of the characters that well to really enjoy just how amazing the writing itself is

Can't Go Back (This Time) by @duckmumbo (musicaltvbooks) - soup group goes end raiding and accientally finds themselves in afterlife smp. nothing goes wrong, surely! also admittedly i havent finished reading this either but roy i swear i will. this is a great read nevertheless and the soup group dynamic is impeccable!

TommyInnit's unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death by eneliii - on the train of dsmp fics, this is the superhero au longfic that inspired my own hc superhero au, vdhau. it's a lot of funny shenanigans with tommy and his friends. the fic does take a dark turn at the end, but that can be skipped entirely (as said by eneli herself) if you just want the wholesome aspects.

if you don't mind a little self promo, here are some of my fics!

it takes two to play (the game of mutual secrecy) - the aforementioned hermitcraft hero au. this installment is centered around xisuma and evil x as brothers resolving their issues through hero work and solving the mystery of welsknight's disappearance :D there are other works that are set in the same universe if you're interested for more!

how to form the ultimate besties dynamic: an unreliable tutorial by hypnotizd - a oneshot! hypno is a warlock who goes treasure hunting under the sea. he meets a guardian who later becomes his unlikely friend.

smoke and mirrors, the hunt perseveres - grian's arrival in empires s2 unwittingly brings the watchers' suspicions with him. cue jimmy freaking out and a lot of shenanigans.

ballad of etho’s lab - my newest installment! a oneshot about etho's storied life as the redstone god.

i'm also currently working on the sequel to the game of mutual secrecy and a new (well not exactly new since i made concept art for it) au called private detective gem tasey! these will likely be released sometime late january or february. have fun with these fic recs! i haven't been reading as much lately but i hope ill be able to find more if anyone else asks in the future. cheers!

edit: the fics are out! here they are!

hiding in plain sight (the meaning of trust) - sequel to the hermitcraft hero au! it follows an escaped lab rat trying to acquaint themselves with human society while avoiding suspicion and making friends with familiar faces from tgms ;D

private detective gem tasey: a rotten mystery in london - a hermitcraft detective au where gem gets hired for a case that spirals completely into drama and politics!

[teiasviago]

Rewriting Season Eight

My coffee from earlier has yet to wear off so I decided to line up all the season eight fics that I’ve written so far in some semblance of chronological order based on when they’re set. My love/hate relationship with this season’s jumping out! You can find all of these fics on my blog under their titles here but I won’t be linking them onto my blog because I change my URL somewhat frequently. Probably best to just use the AO3 links on this post to get to the fics the fastest!

Left Behind (302 words) — “Requiem” If he were here, he’d embrace her from behind and wrap his arm around her, hand splayed on her abdomen.

Presumed Dead (261) — General Early S8 She’s read Doggett’s report three times already, but she can’t remember anything from it in detail. She’s stuck on a particular phrase: presumed dead.

Seven Weeks (455 words) — General Early S8 I don’t even know why I’m writing this. I’d rather tell you in person, but it’s all eating me up alive and I need to get it out.

Nightmares (390 words) — “Deadalive” “How?” Scully asks tearfully. “It’s our baby, Mom. Every little thing will remind me of him.”

Two Miracles (315 words) — “Deadalive” Scully watches him process the words and sees the exact moment that Mulder lights up.

Anybody Miss Me? (864 words) — “Deadalive” And Scully knows he’s expecting her to chuckle through the tears but she can’t hold it in anymore—all the grief and fear and stress clawing their way out. “Yes,” she sobs, burying her face in his chest. She swears she hears him give a breathy, “Oh,” as her tears soak into his hospital gown. “We missed you so much.”

A Piece of You and Me (403 words) — “Three Words” A piece of you is inside me and I’m wearing your coat. A piece of you is inside me and you’re going to be a father. A piece of you is inside me against all the odds, Mulder. A piece of you is inside me and I need you to love me.

Confront (1242 words) — “Vienen” “We need to talk,” she says over the phone, and normally he’d sigh and lie with a strained, I’m listening, but running off to take over Doggett’s investigation on an oil rig wasn’t nearly as thrilling or putting-his-life-back-together-ing as he’d expected.

Reacquaintance (1157 words) - General Late S8 “Mulder...” he heard Scully murmur, her ass against his cock as she wiggled back so she was pressed against him, shoulders to feet.

The Physics of Waddling, Colds, and Pizza (1493 words) — “Empedocles” Scully didn’t walk anymore, she waddled, and it was absolutely adorable.

Blossom (1628 words) — “Empedocles” They haven’t seen each other naked since the night before they left for Bellefleur. He’s seen glimpses here and there, when Scully will lift up her shirt to moisturize or when she accepted his help when she came home from the single autopsy she was tapped to do before her hospital stint.

Liminal Spaces (822 words) — General Late S8 They’re in that liminal space between actually having the baby and the baby still developing.

Decipher (680 words) — General Late S8 “I was settling in nicely, but it all feels a bit fake—a bit surreal.”

Domesticated (284 words) — General Late S8 She giggles (oh, her giggle) and resumes her lint rolling.

The Nuances of Breakfast and Shopping (818 words) — General Late S8 Scully gasps and appears around the corner of the aisle at the same time as Mulder does from the other side. “Look!” She holds up a little onesie depicting an alien spaceship abducting a cow. “It’s so cute!” She lets her arms fall, revealing her dazzling smile.

Home (385 words) — General Late S8 They’re unpacking Mulder’s boxes of knickknacks when the phone rings, disrupting their banter.

To Build a Crib (232 words) — General Late S8 Scully sighs. “Not this again.”

Baby Shower (804 words) — “Essence” At some point, Scully ended up between Mulder’s legs, opening her gifts with his arms wrapped around her abdomen.

“Help Them” (1691 words) — “Existence” “Scully,” he says, arms half wrapped around her and their baby, who’s pink and wailing—healthy in the lungs and very human, he sees. He smiles for a brief moment but it flies off his face when she doesn’t respond.

[spaceprincessem]

seven sentence sunday

oh hi everyone it's me. haven't really been writing much recently just small self-indulgent things, but slowly working on the buddie mockingjay au again so that is what i have for you today. the goal is to get it done before s8 so fingers crossed. thank you for all the tags this week i really appreciate it! thanks today to @spotsandsocks @devirnis @sibylsleaves @eddiebabygirldiaz for today (also maybe someday ill finish the presumed missing fic but today is not that day)

Now he needs to become their leader, the face, the embodiment of the revolution — the Mockingjay. Sometimes he wonders if they forget that he’s only seventeen years old. “We need the Districts to know that you are alive and well,” Abby adds when Sue finishes her pitch, “to unite them against our common enemy.” Eddie lets it sit for a moment, his fingers twitching to reach for the pearl burning a hole in his pocket. “No.” He finally says. Neither look surprised by his answer, in fact Sue looks downright determined, like she’s finally found a challenge worthy of her game making abilities.  “Eddie,” she says in a voice that’s supposed to be calm and soothing, but it grates at his nerves, “the Districts are only going to rally behind someone that started this revolution.” “Then you should have saved Buck!” Eddie yells, hand slamming down onto the table.

it's probably late to tag but @shortsighted-owl @colonoscopys @monsterrae1 @loserdiaz @hoodie-buck @weewootruck

[nekodere07]

Can you guys recommend me Evil X centric fics? And provide a summary and major spoiler to convince me to read them? I listed the ones below that I discovered/read so far, so you don't need to recommend them again. It also functions as me recommending stuff to EX enjoyers :D

Asking for Nothing by mayflowers fr "i can be the one you call" series (Evil X redemption saga after traumatizing Keralis w/ Zed's help; you need to read everything for context since it has diff events and has continuity) ✨

Anthophobia by residentevilxisuma (Evil X has platonic Hanahaki disease) ✨

Make Me Hurt, Make Me Bleed by residentevilxisuma (Reaper Evil X got tortured by Mumbo but doesn't have physical scars due to his regeneration, but it's been hiatus/discontinued since 2021 😭) ✨

residentevilxisuma's Reaper AU by residentevilxisuma (collection of Evil X reaper au)

Another Chance by Ronin_Resistance fr "Void Medic EX" series (Evil X is in charge of respawn while in the void)

Homesick by Inquillitory (Evil X redemption arc after being indirectly responsible for s8's doom)

Can't Even Hear My Own Sobs by GoodTimeWithCip (EX has meltdown after being ripped fr the void)

Here is Home by Shrug (Icynightsky) (not centric but major role; Evil X rescues Impulse fr the void who was banned due to Imposter Syndrome)

The betrayal of brothers doesn't mean the betrayal of others. by JustAnotherMutantKid (Evil X was banned by Xisuma for not doing what he wants but got help by Team ZIT + Wels)

The Road to Hell (Is Paved with Good Intentions) by Random_Reviewer (not centric but antagonist; Evil X tortures Etho and streamed it for the Hermits to see)

this is about a stuffed bird by Bee_4 (downloaded it but didn't have the motivation to read since MCD)

The Hermits And The Mystery of How Evil X Eats by thatgirlfromasgard (not centric; like the title suggests)

it takes two to play (the game of mutual secrecy) by kiwinatorwaffles fr "the hermitcraft hero au (VDHAU)" series (Evil X vigilante due to admiration of a hero, not knowing it was his older brother Xisuma, and those two were just oblivious to each other's identity when all their friends already figured it out a long time ago) ✨

Late Night Visits by Lackyducks (not centric but major role; Evil X sends a stressed Xisuma to Scar since he can't shapeshift back)

Family Revelation series by PickleGirl23 (Exil X found and adopted Grian as his son; didn't continue the series tho since they crossover w/ DSMP)

Iron Bleeds Green by MawoftheMagnetar (not centric but major role; X and EX were formerly the same person but separated due to a tech fr their home planet, and an individual fr there was hunting both of them down)

Cat Among Pigeons by qvill (Evil X was spit out by the Rift after being void banned, shapeshifts into a cat so no one will know it's him)

Love Me Like I'm Dead by Dani_ofCrows (ongoing; major role; X and EX were secretly some kind of creature but X keeps it a secret fr the Hermits until this was forced to be discovered, Hermits shortly realized that both siblings have Hanahaki disease)

I'll Take You By The Hand by ScarletHalo (Evil X was captured by the Watchers but Grian helped w/ his injuries until Xisuma comes to theit rescue)

Words Are Hard by BDbSafe4U (BlueDblue62) (depressed Evil X can't communicate how much he was hurting to X until he tried to off himself in Decked Out)

voidfishing, the new sport that nobody regretted partaking in (eventually, anyway) by kiwinatorwaffles (major role; Xisuma fishes out kid Evil X out of the void)

Well well, look who's inside again by rorythewriter (ongoing; Evil X is freed fr the void but has amnesia and is suicidal due to the pain fr sensory deprivation/overload, EX and Zed friendship for the win)

Cold and broken and hurt (Warm and healed and protected) by Moonflowers24 (EX disappeared in s8 and was stuck in the void until s10, assumed X hated him since he banned him to the void again and never responded to their texts)

A Nether Return by Sharo (EX glitch spawned in the 1.16 Nether after being banned, got sick but was taken care of by team ZIT and Zed got pissed after discovering X banned EX)

[ladyennefer]

I havent watched hotd but i've seen plenty of people complaining on my dash to know about the writers butchering the characters especially alicent. It makes me pretty glad that even though i didnt like the way d&d handled s8 of got that at least Sansa still fought for northern independence. She did not budge an inch for anyone and i love her for it. I think what's happening with nyra and alicent is exactly how some fanatic targ stans wanted D and Sansa to be written in s8. They wanted to see her quiet, and humbled and braiding D's hair. They wanted her to grovel before her. Thank goodness that never happened!

Sorry for the super late reply but yes I can completely agree with everything you said. Season 2 of HOTD feels like a Deansa fix it fic wrapped in a Jonerys fix it fic 💀

[iknowshocker]

https://www.tumblr.com/nikkiruncks/745434559698567168/send-me-a-character-and-ill-do-this

Kai <3

hii!! ahh you know i love to yap about my boy lets go:

Sexuality Headcanon:

i'm of the general opinion that he's only ever truly sexual/romantically interested in Bon-Bon so take from that what you will lol

Gender Headcanon:

cis he/him - but i can imagine he's not super pressed about things like painting his nails. like he'd be the girl dad (or fun uncle) that lets them put bows in his hair and play around with makeup. he was a teenager in the late 80s so while i do love the way they dress him most of the time I would have done more in the 90s flashbacks personally - (lemme know if you want to see the mood board for my kai inspired MMC i had so much fun building their wardrobes since its set in 2000 lol)

A ship I have with said character:

Bonkai all day every day there is not another option for me i fear. They truly mean so much to me and out of all the relationship fumbles in TVD they're the biggest to me. I personally didn't want kai to 'redeem' himself for her - i just wanted them moving forward together.

A BROTP I have with said character:

my true favorite here is jokai - i wish we'd had more time with their fun twin banter and seeing them grow back into their obvious bond

there's also a lot of lost potential with liv because of the veryyy obvious similarities she has with kai personality wise.

listen, i didn't hate kai and damon together in s8 (it's just annoying that he spends nearly all of his time with him negating the fact that he should be pissed damon killed him to begin with??) but i do think they've got fun friendship potential.

i just know ric and kai would have gotten along if we'd had more time to force them together - the twins have too much in common for ric to not soften to him, not to mention they're technically around the same age themselves lmao

most of the modern fics i've read put him in friend groups with jeremy and that makes a lot of sense to me

A NOTP I have with said character:

kai x katherine makes little to no sense to me and it drives me up the wall that they put it in s8, even as a throw away line. katherine canonically only ever falls for 'good guys' so putting her with kai felt so silly ?? like julie sweetie are you suddenly saying he IS good ??

A random headcanon:

considering how many i have this was the hardest question to do lol idk why ?? i just couldn't decide 😂 but im gonna go with: his favorite sabbat is probably Lughnasadh since it's one of our biggest harvest festivals, but i do think he's a fall boy so samhain/mabon are probably up there for him as well. lots of focus on cooking/baking/the ancestors around that time so catch him getting sad around the old family cookbooks lol

General Opinion over said character:

he's quite literally everything to me lol i binged s1-s6 for the first time in like 2016 and then it legit took me two years to go back and rewatch/finish because i was so deeply annoyed that they'd wiped out not only kai but the whole gemini coven that i just stopped caring. (I finally gave in because I wanted to know what happened to Bonnie and boyyy was I even more disappointed)

I just find him to be incredibly compelling and the entire parker family/gemini coven live in my head rent free. the complex dynamics between them, the rules of the coven itself, the idea that maybe there's a curse involved and the siphons represent something bigger with the spirits - it's just all so cool and i wish they'd gone deeper into the lore and finished it properly. which is why i wrote my book lol