#watching s3 and you see this right after and you go ??!????!!????!???!!?

[stopper-my-heart]

Nothing like Heartstopper S2E8 removing some of Taylor Swift's "seven" lyrics just so that the singing can specifically come back in at "Or hide in the closet" while Isaac is processing difficult emotions related to the book he's reading (i.e., Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex by Angela Chen).

Did I mention "Or hide in the closet" hits just as the camera focus finishes shifting away from Isaac?

This is fine

[hawkyon-days]

Stancy literally gets brought back by dustin out of nowhere. Steve not wanting nancy to go off on her own is pretty canon behaviour since he's really protective. And it makes zero sense for either character or their development to actually reawaken this plotline>:(

[liinos]

I need them to announce bungo stray dogs season 6.

[the-other-art-blog]

Violet to Colin: "You're one of my most sensitive children."

The fandom: "How can she say that! Anthony, Benedict bla, bla bla..."

Colin is ONE of her most sensitive children. ONE, just ONE of them. And she's right.

ONE OF HER MOST SENSITIVE CHILDREN

He was the only one who indulged Violet and let her introduce him to debutantes in s1, while Anthony fucked his mistress and Ben went to orgies.

He was a complete gentleman with Marina. AND defended her when Anthony implied something about her.

And when he learned the truth, he confessed that he would have married her if she had told him the truth. 🥹

He danced with Pen after Cressida bullied her.

He wrote dozens of letters that his family of 8 could not care to respond to often. There are 8 of them!

He worried about Ben in s2 and supported him on his application to the Academy.

He learned the truth of Jack Featherington and instead of simply leaving, he did something about it. Not only did he help the Featherington family, but he saved other lords from being scammed.

He apologized to Will, explained why he acted rudely AND made amends to repair the damage by bringing men to Will's club.

He returned with gifts for everyone, but he seemed particularly thoughtful to his sisters and mother. A perfume for Hyacinth, music for Francesca, and a book for Eloise 🥹. Violet was so moved by his gift and here we have a lovely headcanon on the watch:

Then with Pen...

He runs after Pen, despite other men wanting to know about his adventures.

He acknowledges his mistake and immediately tries to apologize to Pen in the Four Seasons Ball.

The next day, he comes back with a heartfelt apology.

Then, he offers her help, despite the risk of scandal and embarrassment for him. He knows Pen has no one else.

He goes to see Pen at night to make sure she's ok. And when she asks him for a kiss, he does it so sweetly.

He is brave enough to leave the men who just want to know about his sexual life.

HE WAS BRAVE ENOUGH TO ASK, as soon as he put himself together and understood his feelings. He didn't play jealousy games like others, he went and put his heart on the table. He didn't even know about Pen's feelings and he risked it!

Some extracts from Colin's journals show that his family is always in his thoughts.

You can see why Violet, as the good mother that she is, can tell how sensitive he is.

Colin travels during the summer and comes back during the season to be with his family. It angers me that people think he's selfish for this when Benedict also abandons the family to fuck.

And yet, both Colin and Ben are sensitive. BOTH OF THEM, Francesca too. I wouldn't call Hyacinth or Gregory sensitive right now, and before s3, I wouldn't include Eloise either.

Anyway, I needed to get this out because I am so fucking tired of Kanthonies and Benophies making tantrums about this line.

I'm sure when s4 comes, we are going to see a moment between Violet and Ben where she acknowledges how amazing he is and everything he has done for the family. But not now, because this is COLIN'S SEASON.

(NOTE: If you are thinking of reblogging this post with the tag #Colin is the most sensitive, kindly fuck off. I made this post to fight the Kanthonies and Benophie that are attacking Colin, not to validate your own need to make Colin superior to other characters. HE IS ONE OF THE MOST SENSITIVE CHILDREN, ONE)

[archiveofvirtue]

lovely kook!reader tries her hardest to avoid her ex bf!rafe, yet they unintentionally meet at the country club after her sudden disappearance from kildare island about a year ago

content / ex bf!rafe x fem!reader, lowkey toxic, rafe confronting reader, public arguing, reader lowkey hates kooks, topper and kelce being nosy, 2.1k words

notes / this is the start of my lovely kook!reader x rafe cameron (x jj maybank) trope, inspired by my own fanfic that I published on wattpad. prob not gonna line up with everything in the fic and might differ when it comes to the relationships or dynamics. storyline is roughly set around s1 but I pictured s2/s3 rafe while writing, feel free to imagine him however u want tho! enjoy <3

It had been one long, strange year since you had set foot on Kildare Island. The same roads, the salty ocean breeze—everything felt frozen, like a picture stuck in time. But as you watched the streets of Figure Eight again, you knew that things were different now, at least for you.

There was a time when you’d loved this place, every privileged corner of it, but that had all died the day you’d left, slipping away in the quiet night without saying goodbye to anyone—not even Rafe.

Rafe. Just thinking of him made your chest tighten. You definitely tried not to, but back home, it was almost impossible. He was everywhere—in every memory, in every spot that used to feel safe.

You knew you’d see him eventually. But you definitely had no intention of rushing it.

But your first stop was Sarah Cameron. The Sarah who used to be your best friend. You didn’t even make it up the driveway of your house before she came running toward you, her face full of shock.

The second you hugged, both of you started crying. It felt like the past year melted away. But when she pulled back, the hurt was obvious.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sarah sniffled, her voice both angry and broken. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Your throat tightened as guilt washed over you. “I couldn’t. There was too much… too much happening, Sarah. I didn’t want anyone else to get dragged into it.”

“And you think you didn’t hurt anyone by just leaving?” Sarah’s voice was calm, yet the pain in her eyes was obvious. “You hurt me, and Rafe—”

“Don’t,” you cut her off, the hurt in your own voice surprising you both. “Please.”

For now you didn’t want to think of him, you just wanted to do right by Sarah.

The two of you ended up on the porch, watching the sun dip low as you talked. You opened up as much as you could, and Sarah told you about all the wild things that had happened with her family. But there were things she wouldn’t—maybe couldn’t—say, not even to you.

But it was obvious that things were different in Sarah’s life now. Sure enough you weren’t the only one who had changed.

The next day, you found yourself sitting stiffly in the backseat of your parents’ car as they drove to the country club. You stared out the window, jaw clenched, as you passed the huge mansions of Figure Eight. You’d spent your whole life around the “kooks,” but now, after a year away, their high life facades and fake smiles felt even more unbearable. You could already hear the insincere “how have you beens” that would spill from every corner of the club.

Your parents acted as if nothing had changed. As if you’d never vanished in the first place. Your mom wouldn’t stop babbling, going on about the latest news, updates from the other families you knew, parties you’d missed. All with that same flawless smile, the one you had once tried so hard to mimic, until you realized it was just another mask.

“Won’t it be nice to be back?” Your mom asked brightly, as if you had simply been on a long vacation.

You forced a sweet smile, refusing to answer. You didn’t want to be “back.” You didn’t want to slide into this carefully molded life again, pretending to care about who had bought the newest yacht or who was dating whom. It was all so hollow, so far from the girl you’d become in your time away.

When you reached the club, its grand facade loomed over you, just as fake as the people inside. You spotted a few familiar faces, people who hadn’t changed at all. You doubted they’d even care to ask where you’d been or why you’d left. To them, you’d simply slipped right back into place.

Your dad gave you a proud smile, like showing you off could fix the cracks in your family’s perfect image. But you knew better. You were just another dime in their collection, and that was all they wanted from you. The real you—the one who’d been through hell and back—didn’t exist in their world.

Determined not to fall back into their trap, you straightened up and walked to the bar, hoping to blend in. Luckily, you spotted Mark, the club bartender and an old friend. You two exchanged a few words, Mark catching you up on the most recent gossip of Kildare, but in the back of your mind you still had this uneasy feeling, the thought of running into Rafe made your stomach hurt.

You were almost starting to relax when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Isn’t that y/n?” It was unmistakable—Topper.

Anxiety hit you, wondering if Rafe was with him, but when you turned around, your eyes met Kelce’s instead. You felt relieved while you gave them both a small wave. Topper and Kelce had been part of your life in Figure Eight once upon a time, more Rafe’s friends than yours, but you’d spent enough time around them that you knew you could at least handle a quick one on one with them.

“Y/N,” Kelce greeted, his surprise melting into a friendly grin. “Back from the dead, huh?”

You smiled a little at that, nodding. “Something like that.”

Topper gave you a little grin, shaking his head as if still trying to process that you were actually standing there. “You know, no one knew what happened to you. You just… left.”

“Yeah, I know.” You forced a smile. “I guess I had my reasons.”

You exchanged a few more words, and you could feel their eyes flickering to each other, as if they wanted to ask more but were holding back. It was strange—normally, they’d be all over you for details, but now, they seemed rather calm. And then, suddenly, they went completely silent.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, glancing between them, suspiciously raising your brows.

But you didn’t have to wait long to find out.

“Y/N.” Rafe’s voice sounded from behind you, low and dark. You cursed under your breath, clenching your jaw before forcing yourself to turn around.

There he was, standing a few feet away, his ocean blue eyes locked on you. For a moment, he looked shocked, like he couldn’t believe you were real.

“Rafe,” you replied just as blunt, fighting to keep your voice steady, though you could feel your heart hammering in your chest.

Topper and Kelce glanced between you, clearly uncomfortable, before they mumbled something about getting drinks and made a quick exit, leaving the two of you alone.

You stared at each other for a long moment, he looked good. Really good. His hair was slightly longer, the blonde tips hanging over his forehead.

Staring at him for a little too long you saw a flicker of something in his eyes—regret, maybe?—but you brushed it away. You couldn’t afford to let him get under your skin again. Not after what went down between you.

“So, what, you just fucking waltz back into town like nothing happened?“ he asked, his voice laced with anger.

He stepped closer until you were nearly face to face. You could smell the hint of whiskey on his breath, mixed with his signature cologne. It brought back a flood of memories that you’d fought to bury.

“You just..,” he sighed, as if he was trying to pick his words rather carefully, but not being able to contain his anger “You like fucking with me, don’t you?”

You lifted your chin, your voice edged with a coldness Rafe hadn't heard before. “What did you expect me to do, Rafe? Stick around after everything you pulled? After what you… made me do?”

He frowned, his jaw tightening as he processed your words that felt like a slap to the face. “Made you do? I didn’t make you do anything.” he echoed, his voice rising. “Do you even get how messed up it was, just disappearing like that? Leaving everyone behind, leaving ME behind without a word?”

A sarcastic laugh slipped from your lips. Arguing in public like this definitely wasn’t your plan, but at this point you didn’t care. “That’s the thing with you, Rafe. You don’t even realize the damage you cause, do you?”

He flinched, trying to hide the twitch of his jaw, but you caught it. For a moment, you almost felt a bit of pity for him. Almost.

“What happened, y/n?” he asked softly, his voice almost sounding vulnerable, caught off guard by the force of your resentment. The old you he remembered had looked at him like he was the one, but the woman in front of him now—was a stranger.

“Where’d you go? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you?” You repeated, your voice sounding bitter. “I didn’t owe you any explanations. I did what I had to do to protect myself.”

“From me?” he shot back, his voice cold. “That’s what you think, huh?”

You bit your lip, hating that he could still get to you, hating that despite your anger, some part of you still felt drawn to him. But you wouldn’t let him see that. “You can’t change the past, Rafe. Just… stay out of my life.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his anger fading into something like pain. But then it was gone, replaced by the hard mask he always wore. He took another step toward you.

“You think you had it all figured out in that pretty little head of yours, huh? You run away and pretend it’s all my fault?”

You watched him get closer, yet not letting it phase you “Maybe it is. Or maybe we were just bad for each other. Either way, I’m not letting you drag me down again. Not this time.”

His face twisted, and you could see the realization in his eyes—you weren’t the girl he once had wrapped around his finger, not anymore.

You released a shaky breath, the adrenaline slowly draining from your body. You’d known coming back to Kildare wouldn’t be easy, but facing Rafe again had torn open wounds you thought you’d closed for good.

But you surely wouldn’t let him break you again. You’d fought too hard to build yourself back up, and you weren’t about to throw all of that away.

You were done running.

With that, you turned away from him, forcing yourself not to look back. Rafe just stared at you, and for the first time, he felt a sense of what he’d lost. He wanted to reach for you, to say something that might make you stop. But he didn’t.

find all other parts here!

feel free to request anything for lovely kook!reader x rafe in my inbox !!

tags 🏷️ @gibson-g1rl @rafesangelita @rafescokewhore @rafesweetie @drewspinkbunny @drewsarms @starkeysprincess @starkeydolly @beausling @seasons-of-death @sematarygirls @dolcekissy @moremaybank @httpsdrewstarkey @t6urusmoon

[sserafics]

VALENTINE — henry h. x fem reader

use of y/n, reader is rays niece, enemies to lovers? fluff, set in s4-5, 2nd person pov

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (heavily inspired by s3 e1 of game shakers!)

your eyes scan the room as you stand in the kitchen of the hart’s home, unsure of why you’re even here.

your gaze drifts to your uncle, who is of course, flirting with henry’s mom. oh right, he brought you here, claiming you need to “socialize more and leave the man cave more often.” though it’s obvious he just wanted you to come so he could have an excuse to hit on henry’s mom. since this party is mostly teenagers, it’d be odd if a grown man just showed up alone. so, that’s why you’re here.

you sigh before taking a sip from the cola in your hand, glancing around to see the familiar faces surrounding you. piper, who threw this godforsaken valentine’s day party, charlotte, aaaand… henry. he’s talking to some girl, who you know is named valarie, but that’s about it.

an odd feeling bubbles up in your stomach at the sight of her leaning closer to him, laughing flirtatiously.

you scoff and turn away, trying not to think of the scene unfolding before you, but your gaze keeps moving back to them, the sight making your stomach twist in a way you’re unfamiliar with. you decide after a moment of watching to just leave. it’s not like your uncle is going to notice anyway, he’s too busy flexing his muscles for henry’s mom.

as you walk to the front door, you hear the sound of henry’s laugh ring through the music, making you roll your eyes at the flutter you felt in your stomach after hearing his laugh.

the cool air of the night hits your face as you step outside, grabbing your phone from your bag and opening the uber app, scheduling one. it arrives almost immediately, and you get in the car.

you look up as you settle in the backseat of the car, about to tell the driver where you need to go, but the sight shocks you. no driver? you’re about to speak, when a voice, monotonous and robot like, rings out.

“welcome to your self driving car, what is your destination?”

“oh, uhm.. just take me to junk n’ stuff.” you reply, still a bit weirded out by this car, but still you divert your attention to your phone, still trying to get your mind off of the scene at the party. the car begins driving.

“yeah, so i’m thinking ‘bout starting a band-“ henry began, talking to another girl who just arrived at the party.

charlotte suddenly rushes to him, her phone in her hand and her eyes wide. “henry! y/n needs help!” she shows him her phone, where a text from you reads that your uber is a self driving car and is out of control. the text also reads to send your uncle, not henry.

he resists the urge to scowl at the last part of your text, before excusing himself from the girl he was talking to and rushing to the front porch, popping a gumball and transforming into kid danger.

“damn it, y/n.” he mumbles before pulling his phone out and scrolling to find your contact, calling you.

“opening sunroof.” the robotic voice of the car speaks.

“what?- i didn’t even mention the sunroof-“ you blurt out, your voice tinged with panic as the car swerves, narrowly missing an old woman who was for some reason, walking in the middle of the street.

“y/n! just tell me when you’re about to pass swellview junior high!” henry’s voice rings out from your phone, reminding you he’s on the phone.

“what? oh- uh- yeah, i’m about to pass it now-!” you reply, trying your best to look out the windows to see where you are, but the car is speeding too fast to really tell.

a thump on the top of the car makes you yelp, accidentally dropping your phone onto the seat next to yours.

“i’m fine, actually!” you shout when you see henry on top of the car, peeking in through the sunroof to try and make out what’s going on inside. the jealousy from seeing him with valarie earlier bubbling up again.

“oh really? because it looks like your stuck in an out of control car, so.” he retorts sarcastically, sounding equally as annoyed as you do. you scoff but it quickly turns into a gasp when he drops down into the car, landing in the front seat.

“jesus! a warning would be nice next time!” you yell, glaring at the back of his head.

“yeah, okay, i’ll keep that in mind for the next time you get stuck in a self driving car!”

he tries to take control of the car, gripping the steering wheel, but the car jolts to the opposite side.

“don’t touch my wheel.” the car rings out in that same, robot like voice, jerking the car to the side again.

“come on-!” he murmurs, still trying to gain control of the car, but to no avail.

“closing sunroof.”

“what?- i didn’t even mention the sunroof-!” he exclaims, utterly confused.

“she’s obnoxious! just stop the car!!” you shout, holding onto the passenger seat in front of you for dear life, suddenly wondering why you didn’t put your seatbelt on.

he groans and pulls out his phone, scrolling and finding schwoz’s contact, quickly pressing call.

“are you seriously making a call right now-?” you ask, irritation lacing your voice.

“i need absolute silence.” he cuts you off, holding a hand up while he silently prays that schwoz will pick up.

“are you serio-“ you began but cut yourself off when schwoz’s voice spoke from his phone.

henry quickly explains what’s happening, his voice panicked. he puts the phone call on speaker phone, placing the phone on the dashboard.

“open up the front panel,” schwoz deadpans, his voice slightly muffled as if he’s eating on the other line. typical.

henry easily pops open the front panel, using some sort of gadget from the man cave, as usual.

“okay, it’s open- now what?”

“look for a red wire.”

“what?! there’s all kinds of red wires, man-“ henry tries to keep the car steady on the road— while also trying to figure out which red wire he’s supposed to be looking for, but the car suddenly swerves to the left, practically throwing you against the window.

henry’s head snaps back to you, noticing your wide eyes and he realizes he’s not going to be able to stop the car this way. he mumbles something under his breath and then moves to the back seat, sitting next to you.

“protect your eyes!” he tells you, reaching into his pocket and grabbing his laser.

“protect my eyes? what- why?-“ you began, but before you could finish, he pulled you against him and hid your face in his chest, making sure to cover his own face as he used his laser to zap at the front panel repeatedly, effectively short circuiting the car.

immediately after, he lets go of you and leans forward, taking hold of the steering wheel, making sure to guide the car to the side of the road as it slowly stops, letting out a sigh of relief after. he slumps against the back seat, panting.

…

an awkward silence fills the car as you fiddle with your bag, tracing one of the straps with your finger. the atmosphere feels tense yet oddly serene, the arguments that usually surround you two absent in the moment.

“why’d you come?” you ask after a while, your voice quieter than usual.

a beat passes without an answer.

“ray was too busy hitting on my mom.” he speaks after a while, glancing out the window awkwardly. that’s not the reason, and you both know it.

he transforms back to his regular self, the pop of his bubble gum causing you to turn back to look at him, suddenly becoming acutely aware of how close he’s sitting to you. your arms are brushing against one another, his face now fully exposed without his kid danger mask.

you reach for the door, hoping to get out of this awkward moment, but it doesn’t open. you sigh.

turning back to face him, you finally decide to vocalize the question that’s been lingering in your mind since you saw him at the party earlier.

“who’s valarie?”

he blinks, looking confused before smiling smugly, which makes you groan, turning away and facing the window again.

“we used to go to camp together, years ago.” he replies, though you can practically hear the smirk on his lips. “why? you jealous?”

you scoff and finally realize where you are. outside of his house again. of course, all of this trouble and you’re not even at junk n’ stuff.

“y/n.”

the serious tone in his voice makes you turn back to look at him. you opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, he cups your cheek and leans in, pausing just before your lips meet, as if to give you an out if you don’t want this. you meet his gaze before leaning in, your lips connecting in a kiss.

it was a short, sweet kiss, yet it felt like it lasted centuries. he pulls back slowly and you open your eyes to see him already looking at you, forehead pressed against yours gently.

“happy valentines day, y/n.”

(a/n) ahhh i finally wrote my first fic!! this took me so long but i like how it turned outtt, i feel like the ending might’ve been a little ooc for him and it kinda sucked 😞 but it’s almost midnight so im posting it 🤞🏻anyway thanks for reading!! it was pretty long so sorry abt that 😭

[nutmeggery]

I need Neil Gaiman to know that Good Omens 2 made me feel emotions I haven't felt in nearly a decade.

When I heard there was going to be a Good Omens 2 I was looking forward to it, of course. I just wasn't expecting it do anything super special to my emotions. I was sure I'd enjoy it, though. I really enjoyed s1.

But, for the last few years, I watched shows and afterwards basically thought well, that was fun, and I quickly moved on and didn't think much about them. There was only about 3 shows in the last 5 years that had made me feel truly emotional and stayed on my mind to the point where I felt like I needed to engage in fandom for a while. (Good Omens 1 was one of them.)

I wasn't spoiled by the leak. I never even knew there was a leak. So I had no idea what was coming in s2. And oh boy...

See, I'd watched Our Flag Means Death, a show where you don't expect the lead characters to kiss, because, well, that never happens in these types of shows, right? And this is important because when they did kiss, it felt like a door that had been locked with just about all the high security locks in the world had suddenly, inexplicably, been opened. Something switched inside me. It took me months to understand what it was, but when I thought about Good Omens before s2 came out, I realized what it was.

I would never truly enjoy a bromance they're-only-queer/in love-by-your-own-interpreation story ever again. Stories where nothing is confirmed, just subtext that anyone who doesn't want to see it can easily deny and mock those who wish it was more.

While it was clear that Crowley and Aziraphale cared a lot about each other in s1, and were probably in love, it was still just a fun ship for fans to play with in fanfiction and fanart. Do they love each other? Oh sure. In what way? Well, that's up to interpretation. Ok, cool. But it's not quite Our Flag Means Death, is it?

Then I watched Good Omens 2. And from episode 1 I saw my favourite Angel and Demon duo love each other. And I was having the best time. I hadn't had such a good time watching a show in a long while. It was not only right up my alley, it was an alley I wasn't even aware was my alley until I saw it. I enjoyed seeing the old characters, the new characters. Oh, I was wonderful.

It was clear to me that, of course Crowley and Aziraphale love each other, are IN love with each other, showing it in their own way. And I wasn't expecting it to be THIS obvious.

And then when the kiss happened, I couldn't believe it. I covered my mouth with both hands and gasped and sat up straight in my seat. I had never expected it--the heartbreak it added to the already heartbreaking scene--it rewired something inside me.

It was like my emotions had been locked up in a stall like a horse for so, so long, and now the gate had been opened, the stable door kicked down, and the horse was running out onto the large pasture into the daylight, bucking and kicking up grass. Oh my god, I have to take a few minutes to process that entire 6 hour marathon of emotions.

And by a few minutes I meant a few days.

More than a few, actually.

I didn't need a kiss to understand how much they loved each other, but I did need the kiss to understand how intense and heartbreaking their separation is for them after everything.

But more than that, the kiss broke a barrier. They really did it, I thought. They really dared.

Aziraphale and Crowley aren't human males, no, but they're played by male actors. And that is significant. That makes the kiss significant. In the world we currently live in.

Weeks later, I'm still obsessed with the show, re-watching s1 and 2, reading the book again, listening to the audio drama. And I'm on tumblr, seeing people's posts and art to somehow sate my hunger for a s3 that doesn't exist (yet).

And I'm having a wonderful time.

[eucalyptus-lvs]

Your Girl? - Carmen Berzatto x Reader

When I first started writing this it was going to be a stand-alone, but I could also see it as a pt. 2 to Good Luck Charm. Either way, I hope you enjoy it. If you have any thoughts or constructive criticism it's always appreciated. May not be the most canon portrayal of Carmy, but after S3 I need some happy moments. - Elli <3

TW: None. Maybe a suggestive comment or two.

Walking into The Beef you’re immediately hit with the smell of fresh bread and cooked meat. Before you can even make it to the counter Richie's face breaks into a bright smile as he spots you. "You're not supposed to be in today. Couldn't stay away from me, sweetheart?"

Most people found him to be rough around the edges, maybe even misogynistic, but you preferred to think of him as old-fashioned. 

The two of you grew close in the time you spent working together.

Although you started as a dishwasher, Mikey had switched you to the front after two weeks of working there when Richie almost made a kid cry for trying to order a hotdog with ketchup. You quickly learned that your new job was about keeping the peace and making things run as smoothly as the people around you would allow. 

Regardless, it was hard to see the man in front of you as a bad guy after watching him get on his knees to put a Hello Kitty bandaid on Eva's hand at a time when she was adamant about being “champion of the monkey bars”.

"Oh, I never wanna be away from you, honey." You share a laugh. "I just came by to drop something off for the boss. Then I'll be on my way."

"He's in the back if you wanna go on through."

"So I can get sucked into the vortex of chaos on my day off? I don't think so." The fighting has slowed down a bit at the restaurant, but it was still pretty busy. Guaranteeing that the energy level was always high. 

"Good point. I’ll tell him you're here." 

“Thanks, Rich.” You move to stand off to the side in a less crowded part of the restaurant. Taking out your phone, you check the time as you watch him retreat into the back. 

If you make this quick you can still get to the coffee place a couple blocks over before it closes for the day.

After a moment you see them both enter from the kitchen. Richie goes back to the register to attend to the customers, while Carmy heads your way.

"Hey. Richie said you had somethin' for me?" Wiping his hands on a towel and tossing it over his shoulder as he approached you. “Everything okay?”

"Yeah. I was getting ready this morning and saw this on the bathroom counter." You reach into your pocket to pull out a gold chain.

His gold chain.

Dangling between you both from your fingers.

"Shit, I don't even remember takin' it off." Grasping it from your hand to undo the clasp and put it on.

"That's because I did right before we got in the shower. I'm surprised it's still together with all the wear and tear you put it through."

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for droppin’ it off. I coulda stopped by tonight though. After I close up?" The phrasing of his statement sounding more like a question.

"I was close by. I wanted to try that coffee shop down the street I was telling you about." You took a step toward him and whispered, "As for tonight, you know I want you over, but we're gonna have to make an effort to get some actual rest before we both develop a sleeping disorder."

"You seem to be doin’ just fine.” A grin broke out on his face.

"Did you forget the part where I told you I have to go get coffee?" You reminded disapprovingly.

"Okay, I get it. Sleep sounds really fuckin' good right now actually." He ran a hand through his hair as he paused. "You eat somethin' already?"

You break eye contact to look around the room aimlessly and avoid the question until your eyes land back on him. “....Huh?”

“We talked about this. You can’t starve yourself all day and then do your fuckin’ girl dinner shit when you get home.”

“First of all, you will never know the joys of girl dinner because you refuse to participate. It's the most well-balanced meal I'm capable of. Second, I've been running around all day and I forgot.”

“First of all, the fact that you call a plate with butter noodles, kimchi, a hard-boiled egg, and some red cherries ‘the most well-balanced meal you're capable of’ is scary. It's really fuckin’ scary. Second, I know you're busy. I'm a chef! What kinda asshole do I look like lettin’ my girl eat like that because you refuse to let me cook you somethin’?” He shot back, growing exasperated with the topic at hand.

“It literally covers all the major food groups! Wait-” You paused, tilting your head. Only just processing his full statement. “your girl?”

You can see the exact moment he processes it too. His eyes widened in panic. “Uh I-I meant, I mean we’ve kinda been-”

“Oh my god, you poor baby boy. You're blushing.” A smirk grows on your face.

“Fuck off” His eyes focusing on the floor, shaking his head. The heavy blush spread up his neck as well as his face.

“I'm afraid I can't do that at this particular moment, but maybe we both will later after you ask me to be your girlfriend.” You replied in a sing-songy voice. “Yknow for future reference you typically ask someone when you want to be exclusive with them.”

He leaned closer to you, eyebrows furrowing as he lowered his tone so he wouldn't be overheard. “I-I thought we've been exclusive. I haven't seen anyone else since you.” 

“I haven't either, but I guess if you want it to stay that way you're gonna have to ask me and make this official. Unless,” You lean away, kissing your teeth as you cross your arms. “you're too scared?”

“You know what? I'm not gonna ask.”

“Wow, you've already backed out. You sure there's not some other girl I should know about?” You mocked, knowing he barely had the time and energy to keep up with you. 

Even if he did, you knew there was no one else. Spending most of your nights at each other's place testing new recipes or wrapped up together in the early hours of the morning before the restaurant needed attending. 

That's why it never occurred to you to define what this is. He was making an active effort to have a life outside of the restaurant and he was doing it with you. 

That doesn't mean you couldn't enjoy making him sweat a little though.

“What?! No. I'm not asking because you're gonna ask me.”

“I’m gonna ask you to be my girlfriend?”

“No, smart-ass.” He let out a breathy chuckle, gesturing vaguely. “Your yknow- boyfriend.”

“Well, that's never gonna happen.” You stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why not?”

“Because you're right. I should get a boyfriend that’ll take care of me and all my food-related needs.” Shrugging your shoulders you wave a hand in the direction of the register. Shouting, “RICH-”

“Stop.” He cut you off, raising his hand. “That's not even funny.”

“Oh, come on. It's a little funny.” You giggle, nudging his arm with your hand.

Shaking his head, he leads you to a table to sit down. “I've gotta get back in there.” Leaning close to your ear he whispers, “Sit tight while I make somethin’ for my girl.” Cupping the underside of your jaw with his calloused hand, he places a quick kiss on your cheek before walking off. 

You smile as you watch him disappear past the doors and back into the kitchen. 

You weren't gonna make it to the coffee shop today, but that was okay. Maybe you could go together on your way to work tomorrow.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Richie came up and put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing. “You call for me?”

You put your hand over his and squeezed back. Looking up at him you replied, “Just fuckin’ with Carm.”

“Good girl.”

[spencerreidenjoyer]

stress relief | spencer reid x reader

wc: 3k, rating: explicit/18+

warning/tags: established relationship, face fucking, blowjobs, vaginal sex, submissive!spencer, whiny!spencer, insecure!spencer (just a little, more like awkward lol), confident (and insanely horny) fem!reader

a/n: i'm back with more pwp!! surprise!!! i have no excuse. i wrote this in about 2 days. i needed to get it out of my system i think this spencer (s3-4) is crazy and perfect and i need him. also thank you for 100 followers on this little reid blog of mine! i hope to keep writing more on here <3

(p.s: you can find this fic on ao3!)

When you get on your knees between Spencer’s legs, looking up at him with wide eyes that spell sin, Spencer knows he’s in for a wild ride.

“You’ve been working too hard, Spence,” you say, shaking your head, speaking like you’re talking about the weather and not like you have a hand on his crotch, steadily stiffening under your touch.

You watch Spencer’s throat bob as he gulps. He blinks quickly, once, twice. “Yeah? You think so?”

“I know so,” you hum, fingers already toying with the button of his work slacks. Spencer had gotten home late from work tonight, but was still fretting over the stacks of reports on his desk in his home office in the apartment you share. After dinner, you’d convinced him to lounge on the couch for a bit, instead of getting back to work – leading you to where you are right now. “I think you need to relieve some of your stress.”

Almost like he’s nervous, his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “What are you thinking?”

“Orgasms release endorphins which contribute to stress relief, no?” You parrot the fun fact Spencer’s told you countless times, a small smirk on your face. As if your hand gently palming his cock hasn’t made your intentions more than obvious.

His eyebrows raise. “Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

“Wow, you could at least sound a little more enthusiastic about your girlfriend giving you head.” You deadpan, but you pop the button of his slacks anyway.

Spencer squeaks. “Sorry. I– I really want you to blow me.”

“I know, darling,” you coo, pulling down the zipper of his fly slowly, feeling the hardness of his cock pressed against it. His underwear is a bright pink when it gets exposed. You chuckle to yourself. “Cute."

Spencer flusters, laughing nervously. “Oh my God. I kind of forgot I was wearing those. Haha. Sorry."

“Baby,” you frown slightly. You’re not mad, not in the slightest, just amused with how he’s acting. You place your hands on his thighs, pausing with any of the action. “Why are you sorry? I think you’re so cute, you know.”

“My head isn’t on straight right now,” Spencer sighs, shaking his head. “I just want– Like, it’s going to be good for me, obviously, because you’re so good at this. I don’t need to want anything. I just– Want this to be good for you too.”

“It’ll be good for me if you stop overthinking it, Spence.” You smile. “It’s chill. Also, when do I not enjoy sucking your cock?”

Spencer covers his face with his hand, but you see him smile, laughing to himself. “You’re so crude, y’know? But I suppose you do really enjoy sucking me off.”

“I know.” You chirp. “And I do."

Your hand is down Spencer’s pants before he can even tell you to go ahead, but he knows that you know he wants it. Spencer hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear, taking them off. His cock jumps up and you watch, fascinated with the obscenity of it all. Spencer’s cock curves up towards his stomach, reddening at the tip already.

You wrap your hand around his hardening cock, as you start to jerk him off. He lets out a high-pitched whimper, like he can’t control himself, and he cups a hand over his mouth. His eyes are wide as he stares down at you. You giggle, “It’s cute.”

“It’s kind of embarrassing,” Spencer says, his face a little red already.

You pout. “Come on, Spence. It’s really hot.”

His hand falls from his face to his lap, coming up to cup your cheek gently. “You like it?”

“You’re so sexy.” You nod. “Of course I like it. Now, make those noises for me again, pretty boy.”

Spencer squeaks as you tighten your grip around his cock, eyes fluttering shut as you stroke him. You work him up to full hardness – not that it takes very long for him to get there. You flick your thumb over the head of Spencer’s cock, tease into his slit where he’s steadily leaking already. His precome makes everything slick and sticky, easing the slide of your fist over his length.

Your eyes flit between Spencer’s face and his cock, marvelling at the growing mess in your hand and how his face is slowly but surely revealing his pleasure. He’s flushed, lower lip pulled in between his teeth, as you watch his chest rise and fall. His gaze pierces you, the intensity of how he looks sending shivers down your spine.

Knowing Spencer’s looking down at you, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, pressing it flat against the tip of his cock. Spencer lets out a strangled breath, eyes bugging out at the erotic sight of you between his legs. You wrap your lips around him, suckling gently on the head of his cock. You hope to make Spencer lose his mind like this. With the way he’s breathing heavily, lips parted as he takes in all of you, you think it’s working.

His whines are more frequent, accenting his hard breaths. You see how Spencer doesn’t know what to do with his hands, watch as he digs his nails into the flesh of his palms, and you instead hold him by his wrists to put his hands in your hair. The weight is comforting, and encourages you to sink down on his cock more. You take more than half of him into your mouth, but Spencer being… well-endowed meant that you often never were able to fit all of him in, unless you were in a particular mood.

The tip of Spencer’s cock hits the back of your throat, once it’s slid in. You gag at the intrusion, and Spencer lifts you off of him, slightly freaked out. “Are- Are you okay?”

“Baby, please,” you sigh, endeared but annoyed at the fact that he’s getting in the way of his own pleasure. “Trust me with this. Just focus on feeling good?”

Spencer’s brows furrow slightly, lips drawn into a little pout, but you nod to soothe his concerns. “Spencer, I want you to use me–” You stick your tongue out to lick at his length again, making him shudder. “–Just like this.”

“You want– You want me to…?” Spencer trails off, unsure if he’s picking up what you’re putting down.

“Fuck my face, Spencer,” you say bluntly, tired of flirting in circles. It’s fun flirting with Spencer, because it’s fun to fluster him when he isn’t expecting it, but right now, when he isn’t getting the hint, you need to lay it all out for him. “Use my mouth like a fleshlight. Whatever you want to do. Please.”

He inhales sharply, stunned at your explicitness. He pushes his hair back, out of his face, taking the time to process… everything. His gaze is tender, though, as he gently cups your cheek. “Okay. Yeah. I can do that. But if you don’t want it anymore, you– You have to let me know, okay?”

You smile up at him, pleased that he’s finally letting some of his inhibitions go, even if he still seems hesitant. You pat the side of his thigh thrice. “I’ll do that if it’s too much.”

“I love you.” Spencer says softly.

“I love you too, Spence.” You hum. “Now hurry up and fuck my face.”

“Jesus, you’re so crude,” Spencer laughs. He leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. Pulling back, he guides his cock to your mouth, the head of his cock pressing against the plush of your lips. His mouth is open when he looks at you like this. He whispers, “Fuck.”

You open your mouth to take him in, like you were before, sinking down inch by inch, until he’s comfortably settled in the back of your throat. Spencer doesn’t move to fuck your face yet, so you make the first move. You bob your head up and down on his length, making sure your mouth is wet and slick as you suck him off. He lets out a moan, hand fisted in your hair.

And here’s where it starts: You slow on his cock, and Spencer, finally taking what he wants, pushes your head down onto his cock for more. You gag slightly. Spencer pulls your head back up, pushes you back down. While you appreciate how much he cares about you, him putting his pleasure first in using you like this makes your toes curl.

Spencer’s cock in the back of your throat is not uncomfortable, not yet, but Spencer steels himself to fuck your mouth and you find your veins thrumming with adrenaline. Spencer’s first thrust is exploratory, cautious. He’s nervous, or it at least feels like it when he fucks into your mouth. You would tell him off, but your mouth is kind of occupied right now. Instead, you glance up at him, and hope that your gaze tells him to just fuck me.

One arm against the backrest of the couch, Spencer thrusts into your mouth again. He gasps. Chasing his own pleasure, his eyes flutter shut as he fucks your mouth. His thrusts are shallow, desperate, hurried, but his mouth falls open in stuttered, eager moans. He’s so gorgeous.

You’ve never heard anything so perfect, the way Spencer moans, the way he cries out your name. You press your legs together to stave off the arousal building between them. You feel like a mess, Spencer’s hand making a mess of your hair, Spencer’s cock making a mess of your mouth. You think spit is probably all over your chin right now, but he’d probably think you still look great anyway.

Spencer gasps, out of breath as he whimpers, “I’m– I’m close, I can’t–”

He fucks into your mouth once, twice more, before slumping back down onto the couch. There’s a slick, wet ‘pop’ as you pull off of Spencer, pouting slightly. “You know I’m happy to swallow, Spence.”

Spencer laughs, tired, and explains, “I know you do, dear. I just don’t think I have it in me to come more than once. And I really want to come inside of you.”

His words make you blush. Spencer doesn’t get too explicit too often, so hearing him say dirty things always turns you on. You reach up to wipe yourself clean, but Spencer’s already ahead of you with a tissue pressed to your face, gentle as he wipes your mouth and chin.

After cleaning you up, he helps you up off your knees and onto the couch. You’re both still clothed, sure, but Spencer’s boxers and pants have been pushed down to reveal his cock; you must be even more of a mess, hair rustled and face messy, and the desperation that makes itself clear at the sight of the both of you makes you giggle.

Spencer smiles at you. “What are you laughing about?”

“We must look insane right now,” you laugh. “We’re not even naked yet and we’re like this.”

“Well, I think you look beautiful,” Spencer says earnestly in a quiet voice, his hand tucking your hair behind your ear. Spencer’s touch is gentle, it always is, and especially in stark contrast to the way he’d fucked your face, just like you told him to. “My lovely girl.”

“Spence,” you purr, nuzzling into his hand as he cradles your face. “Love you.”

“I love you too.” Spencer’s answer is immediate, certain, and it makes you acutely aware of how turned on you are.

“I love you so much, and I really need you to fuck me right now.” You look up at him, watch as his face warms from serious to amused. You shift away from him slightly on the couch, but use the extra space to spread your legs. “Use this pussy, baby.”

Now, he presses his finger to his temple, shaking his head playfully. “Your mouth is filthy. You’re filthy.”

You grin. “Aww, Spence, at least tell me you like it!”

He leans forward to kiss you, hard and eager and desperate. You moan into the kiss, as his hand is pressed into the small of your back. You run your hand through his hair, where it’s starting to curl past the nape of his neck. When he pulls away, he says, looking deep into your eyes: “I like you. And your filthy mouth. Now let me fuck you.”

You giggle, wildly turned on as his long, deft fingers push your shorts and panties off. He kisses along your neck as he does so, then lays you back on the couch, and his thumb rubs circles into your inner thigh softly as he regards you, admires you. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“You are too,” you say, awed, as Spencer takes off his nerdy little button-up. His body is perfect – not skin-and-bones skinny, but there’s a healthy litheness to him that you appreciate, especially when you’re grabbing at him while he fucks you. “Want you right now.”

“I know,” Spencer hums soothingly, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Come on, love.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watch, slack-jawed, as he wraps a hand around himself. His eyes flutter shut as he strokes himself, but he quickly snaps himself back to reality: guiding his cock in between your legs. He presses the tip to your clit, messy and glistening with your slick, and rubs against you in circles. You moan, feeling a little pathetic as you rut your hips forward to find any more pleasure like this.

Now, he presses the head of his cock to your hole, teasing, pushing it in slightly before it slips back out and spreads more of your slick across the rest of your cunt. You whine, pouting up at Spencer. He coos at you, “Okay, okay.”

Finally, he’s settled against your hole, the blunt head of his cock pressing into you excruciatingly slowly. It’s exhilarating, feeling him feed his cock into your hole, feeling him stretch you open, feeling like you were made for each other. He holds your leg up so he can press up closer to you, feeling so full as he puts his cock inside of you.

“Spencer,” you moan when he stops moving. “Fuck me. Just like earlier.”

”Okay, love.” Spencer nods, trails his hand down your waist and hips, down your thighs. “My gorgeous girl.”

Spencer thrusts into you, the first one sending electric pleasure through your body. He always loves to do it like this, make love to you slowly, intensely rocking into you until you feel all his love. You always do, but you don’t want that tonight. He knows that’s not what you want tonight.

When Spencer starts fucking you, his hips have gained a steady rhythm, your skin slapping together obscenely. It’s so wet between you two, where he’s pressed inside you. He fucks you hard and fast, eyebrows furrowed as he chases his own high. He’s so fucking cute, even while naked and trying his best to make you feel just as good as he does. He’s panting and groaning, your own moans mixing in with his. He knows you want him like this, hard and fast and messy.

You can’t form a coherent sentence, only able to babble and cry out for Spencer, for more, and you cling onto his arms as he pounds into you. You’ve never felt Spencer like this before. Sure, he’s always eager to please, doing whatever makes you feel good, but him going so hard, just like this, just the way you want makes you feel so needy, the both of you feeding off of each other’s desperation. All you can focus on is Spencer’s skin touching yours, the in-out slide of his cock, the slapping of skin on skin, the wet, slick noises of his cock fucking in and out of you.

“Cumming, Spence, I’m cumming,” You cry out needily, desperately, and you moan when he presses his thumb to your clit. He flicks at your clit in rough, hurried little circles. The pressure is cruel but just what you need for your release, and your whole body shakes as you orgasm. The high is so good, a different type of pleasure coursing through your veins.

You clench around Spencer, your cunt like a vice grip on him. Moaning loudly, his hips are stuttering as he comes inside of you too. He fucks out whatever momentum’s left in him, but pulls out quickly and gently, because he knows how fast you get overstimulated afterward.

He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth, then presses his lips to yours. The kiss is soft, sweet, tame, unlike the depravity you were engaged in before, and the juxtaposition makes your head spin. Spencer, who is usually such a sweet, soft guy, being able to fuck you so hard and fast until the couch was creaking underneath you. You suppose that’s what he’s capable of when you ask. You like it. You wonder what else you can ask him to do. You think he’d do it in a heartbeat, knowing him.

“That was amazing,” you giggle breathlessly. “Spence, you’re a madman.”

”For you, my dear,” Spencer smiles. “Anything for you.”

You snuggle into his side, resting your head on his chest as you lay on the couch. You’re both sticky and gross, but you’re sure Spencer will be more than happy to clean up later. Right now, you’re just pleased to be cuddling your boyfriend.

”So, do you feel less stressed out about work now?” You ask, after a moment of comfortable silence.

”Well, I certainly wasn’t thinking about work,” Spencer laughs. “You know, some sociologists believe stress can be caused by positive events too? I think you cause me stress, but it’s good stress.”

”Watch your mouth, genius,” you snark playfully. “You’re lucky you’re cute enough that I’d take being called a stressor a compliment.”

“I love you,” Spencer sing-songs.

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the stupid grin that forms on your face. “Yeah, yeah.”

[burnttongueontea]

So, what is the deal with the world’s most conspicuously uneaten Eccles cakes? (A meta)

Well, I wouldn’t say it’s bad writing, not even the on-purpose-as-a-secret-message kind. I agree there is a visual ‘loose thread’ here that the creators wanted us to notice, but I don’t think the meaning has anything to do with Metatron or the eventual plan for S3. I think the eccles cakes are all about what’s going on in this episode with Crowley and Aziraphale, and they’re unsettling in exactly the way they’re meant to be, even if we might not register the full implications consciously on first watch.

On the most straightforward level, this shot is the punchline to a joke set up by Aziraphale and Nina in the coffee shop. Crowley orders six shots of espresso, bound to get him all worked up and stressy. Aziraphale, who desperately wants Crowley to be thinking clearly when he learns about the Gabriel situation, says to Nina: ‘What do you sell that calms people down?’ And she replies: ‘Eccles cakes.’ From this moment on the cakes are a visual symbol of what Aziraphale needs from Crowley right now.

That’s why they get so much screentime as we cross the road and go into the shop. Aziraphale won't leave those eccles cakes behind because he’s still hoping that Crowley will respond to the request they represent: Please stay calm, please be patient and listen to me with empathy.

But Crowley never does respond, and as he storms out we get that close-focus shot of the abandoned plate to make sure the subtext hits home. The cakes are framed sitting in front of the horse statue, brilliantly dressed up in Crowley's sunglasses, to remind us that they were brought there for him and he's dismissing them. (Crowley is the frantic horse who can't be managed!)

There’s another level to it, though, which doesn’t fully become clear until episode 6. The episode 1 meeting in Nina’s café is the first time that Aziraphale and Crowley share a scene in the present-day in S2, which means that the last time we saw them together was when they were dining at the Ritz. As viewers, we quickly recognise the visual language of their partnership: a table for two, a drink, a dessert. It feels familiar. But the food gets delivered and then nobody eats it. On that level, it is a set-up without a pay-off and it really niggles as you watch. S1 closed out their relationship with a happy toast after a resplendent dinner; S2 opens it with a snack that gets ignored. The dynamics of who offers food to whom are also off, atypical. It’s a sign of how things are going to go later on, hinting at the fact their dynamic is dysfunctional right now, even though it might seem OK on the surface.

Which brings me, finally, on to the other thing I’ve wanted to point out…

The punchline is that Crowley doesn’t eat the eccles cakes, but the really subconsciously disconcerting thing is that Aziraphale doesn’t. That he seemingly never planned to, and never orders anything for himself. In fact, we don’t see Aziraphale eat anything substantial in any of the present-day scenes in S2. The only things he consumes onscreen are sherry, tea, and a travel sweet. (Oh, and Manipulation Coffee, which is definitely a callback to Crowley’s disastrous sextuple-espresso.) We see him with food, yes, but primarily he wants to give it to other people.

For me this little detail of S2 – not something you even fully notice until you think about it – is a very telling understated cue in terms of Aziraphale’s post-Heaven state of mind. It's about what amuseoffyre puts so well in another meta: 'the whole series looks like he’s having so much fun doing silly human things, but there’s this brittleness to it.' At first glance, we see Aziraphale interacting with food and assume he is now living the happy Earthly life we wanted for him, but on closer inspection he's not engaging much in the pleasure of eating for his own sake. He gets a quick sweet pick-me-up on his way somewhere else in the Bentley - all alone - and that's it. He's too anxious, too busy, he doesn't have time. Crowley doesn't have time to invite him for lunch.

I find it fascinating that Gabriel gets a squillion cups of cocoa in this season, waxing all lyrical about them, and Aziraphale gets none. Aziraphale's mug becomes Jim's mug, even. And he mostly makes the tea to show Muriel how to blend in. In short, S2 Aziraphale is terribly preoccupied with looking after/managing others, and not taking the time to look after himself. Like the Maggie and Nina match-making, all that kindly treat-offering is displacement, displacement, displacement.

No wonder it all goes wrong.

[somedayillbepeterpan]

I have gone down this rabbit hole now and I'm afraid I'm never getting out. I hope I give justice to this. And sorry if this is long.

I've seen a lot of the Colin and Marina vs. Colin and Penelope analyses in here and I want to raise this parallel as to how the Butterfly ball was such a powerful move for both Penelope and Colin. We all have our issues with how they handled Pen and Colin finding their way back to each other but let me add this perspective and hope it helps us understand how real they handled the issue of LW and pushed the character development for them both.

The scene on the left is from S01e06 (Swish) and the right is S03e08 (Into the Light)

S1 scene - Violet is still in her dressing gown, obviously distraught having just read something from LW. She hears someone come down and finds Colin.

S3 scene - Violet is dressed for the morning and her face looks a combination of surprise and confusion after reading a letter. She turns around when she hears someone coming down the stairs.

In both scenes, we see Colin coming down the stairs.

S1 - we only see Colin's back. We're in suspense on what emotional state he is in but we do know that he's on his way to elope with Marina.

In S3 - we see Colin's face immediately looking determined and ready. We see Violet calling his name quite urgently.

S1 - Colin sees his mother's face looking like a combination of disappointment and anger. He asks what's happening. She doesn't say anything but just looks at Colin with a sadness that only a mother can give.

S3 - Violet pointedly says that she received a letter from Colin's wife (I love this line so much) that sounds awfully like "I need you to explain what's happening right now."

S1 - Violet hands Colin LW without saying anything and just looks so so so sad. Colin is shocked to his core because we learn that LW (Pen) exposes Marina's pregnancy and that she has been pregnant from the beginning of the season.

S3 - Colin determinedly faces his mother telling her that they had better sit. And I'm guessing that Colin tells her everything.

Where am I going with this? (Gosh, doing an analysis is hard 😂)

The first time Colin fell in love (thought he fell in love), he was blindsided. But I believe the pain he felt at that time was made deeper because his family had to save him from the situation (Anthony explaining that his actions in the scandal will affect his sisters' prospects as well). To think that it was his mother who first learned of the situation added salt to the wound because we all know that he is a mama's boy and that the one person he dislikes letting down is his mother.

The second (and last time) Colin falls in love, he once again feels betrayed. But he's fallen in love so deeply that he can't imagine his life without Pen. The struggle he goes through in understanding his emotions was very hard to watch and it's because the issue goes beyond his and Pen's relationship. It extends to his family.

Colin's hero complex goes beyond feeling worthy of Pen's love but also worthy of the Bridgerton name. We see it several times in S3 when he mentions it in his confrontation with Portia (" I advise you not to sully our Bridgerton name...") and when Pen tells him that Cressida discovered her secret ("It will besmirch our Bridgerton name. The entire family").

The whole sequence in the study is now more significant because of what Pen addresses in their conversation-- Colin's family ("Your family... the one you so kindly shared with me, they are too good").

Pen's "sacrifice" ("But I can no longer conceal the biggest piece of information I have. My identity."), I believe, was to save the Bridgerton family (once again) and she asks Colin to stand by her as she formulates and executes this plan.

It was very important that Pen wrote a letter to Violet directly and that Colin was there right after she's read it to explain everything. From this point on, they were a team. From this point on, Colin moves in parallel with Pen instead of against it. Colin finally sees that version of Pen that she's always been even while she was LW-- the person who was always determined to save his family just as much as he does.

From this point on, their goals were aligned.

10 rewatches after, I finally see how Colin found his way back to Pen. It wasn't very obvious to me how he got over the feelings of betrayal after he discovered Pen was LW. Of course, him reading the letters help but the events leading up to the Butterfly ball, helped him see her as both Pen and Lady Whistledown and the overflowing pride we see on his face was heart-melting to watch.

From this point on, they finally see each other eye to eye. From this point on, they finally accept this version of each other.

If you got to the end, thanks for reading my humble musings.

*Editing to add this: The Butterfly Ball deep dive series

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-spooktober.

Of Wolf and Man

Prompt: Werewolf | Word Count: 5533 | Rating: E | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | CW: Minor Injury, A Sprinkle of Good Boy Kink | Tags: Canon Divergence, S3 Happened, But No S4 Events, Different Meeting After High School, Werewolf Steve, Animal Lover Eddie, A Touch of Hurt/Comfort, But Mostly Fluff

Eddie hears the growl, and freezes mid-step. He was just headed out to Skull Rock to make a quick deal with a jock too scared to meet at his usual picnic table in the woods, and this is what he gets for his trouble? About to be eaten by a wild fucking animal over twenty bucks worth of weed? Great, just great. He isn't sure what direction the growl came from, it sounded all around him, all at once. Like it was somehow beside him, below him, and above him. He scans as far as his eyes can see, then finally looks up, and when he does, there's a big dog standing on a rock overhead.

"Easy there, buddy," Eddie says, because he's an animal guy. He's not one to turn any species away, as a general rule. His brain suddenly unhelpfully supplies: kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, species. Which isn't gonna help him survive a feral dog attack, but honestly, take that, Mr. Johnston? He did pay attention in biology class. Both times.

It doesn't matter, but what does matter, is that he can usually charm anything into being his friend for a few minutes. Racoons, opossums, the occasional armadillo. 

More cats than he'll ever be able to count.

Sometimes a stray dog, or two. 

And that's when he realizes this is not a dog. It's a wolf. And there definitely shouldn't be any wolves roaming around just outside of Hawkins. It has to be someone's pet that has gotten loose. Those are legal in Indiana. Or: And his wheels really start turning here, if this one somehow doesn't already belong to someone else, maybe he could wrangle it into being his own pet.

Now, that's an idea. Wayne would shit, but a pet wolf would really make him seem like a bigger, scarier freak around town. He's kind of missed the daily fear and detestation since he squeaked out of Ms. O'Donnell's class, and therefore, high school. Diploma clutched in his fist.

Either way. 

Dealing with a wolf is new territory. Very, very new. 

And a little more terrifying, his fantasy of keeping it as a badass pet notwithstanding. 

It's huge. Especially bathed in moonlight, looming overhead, where all Eddie can see is warm, golden eyes staring down at him, and a dark, pretty coat. The wolf is watching him, as if it's taking stock of Eddie's every move.

"Well, I'm gonna go my way, and you're gonna stay right there," Eddie says, holding his arm up, palm facing the big animal, and the wolf whines in a way that almost sounds like he's disagreeing petulantly with this command.

Eddie smiles, even if he's still a little terrified, "You don't want me to hang around. I'll cramp your style. Lay down." 

And the wolf starts to do just that. Big body folding down into itself. 

"That's a good boy. You're very pretty, you know?" Eddie asks. And it is a pretty animal. Lean muscle, wrapped in what he assumes is a heavy coat of soft fur. 

He'd like to pet him. 

That's how he'll die someday. Petting something he had no business touching. He's sure of it. 

And the wolf whimpers, laying down on the rock, resting his chin on its huge paws, still watching Eddie with those mesmerizing eyes. 

They almost glow out here in the moonlight. 

How fucking cool is that? An actual wolf. In the flesh, and not just written into a campaign. 

Eddie grins at him one more time, and then takes off in the direction he was headed in before he was interrupted by a huge fucking wolf.

Once he gets to Skull Rock, and sits down to wait, he hears the howl in the distance, and smiles. Hopefully the wolf doesn't have a pack hanging around that's less docile than he was.

He doesn't think about the wolf again, not much anyway, until the wolf shows up again, standing across the highway, right along the tree line, watching him. Eddie's putting three bucks in the van's gas tank, and it suddenly feels like he's been tracked here. Shit. Has he been tracked here? Does the wolf have his scent now? 

Eddie should ignore it, but he can't. He makes eye contact, and the wolf sits. Like he's waiting. Eddie goes in and pays, and when he comes out of the Fair Mart, he looks both ways, then jogs across the two lanes of worn asphalt.

The wolf is still there, sitting patiently, watching as Eddie struggles to unwrap the Slim Jim he bought for the animal for some stupid reason, not nearly scared enough that he's about to be mauled. 

Eddie isn't sure what to do now as he looks down at him. Does he throw it? Drop it? Hand feed him like he would a dog? 

"Hi. Me again. I probably wouldn't have seen you if it wasn't so bright out tonight," Eddie says, making one-sided small talk, nodding his head towards the big, full moon overhead.

And then Eddie holds out the meat stick, an offer.

The wolf makes eye contact, and then gently takes it from Eddie's fingers, like he's being careful and Eddie grins, "That's a good boy."

And the wolf looks right at him, tail lightly dancing around, as if he understood that. Maybe he just got the tone. Dogs are good at that, right? Maybe wolves are, too.

But it still unsettles Eddie, just a little. It's too human, and the fact that it's a full moon suddenly isn't lost on him. He gets the lore behind that. And it kickstarts his imagination. Thrusting it into overdrive. Was it a full moon last time? Eddie thinks maybe it was, as brightly lit as the woods had been, even late at night.

But, it can't be. That's absurd. He needs to just go. Accept this for what it was, just another experience in his long line of animal whispering.

He's got band practice to get to, anyway. They always expect he'll be late, but still. He should go.

"Okay, I gotta go," Eddie says, and then adds, "Stay out of the highway, it's dangerous." 

And he watches the wolf slink back into the trees, until he's gone from sight. 

Eddie tries to ignore the persistent feeling, the one pulling at his brain, but he's only able to ignore it until the next full moon, when the wolf is back, lurking near the trailer this time, as if this time he was able to track him home.

Eddie lives like six miles from the gas station. He doesn't know the range a wolf has, but that seems far. Especially figuring in the wolf also being out Skull Rock the first night. He's covering ground, that's for damn sure. 

The wolf comes right up to the dead patch of grass they call a lawn, and lays down, looking up at Eddie.

"Hi, again. I'm Eddie. And I think you're a werewolf," Eddie says, and the wolf whines, "Are you a werewolf? Are you a person?"

The wolf snuffles, and Eddie thinks that could be a yes. Or not. He doesn't exactly speak wolf. 

"Who are you?" Eddie asks, as if the wolf can tell him that. "Are you someone I know?"

He doesn't get an answer, but he leaves the porch and sits down on the ground, crossing his legs under him. Right in front of the relaxed animal. 

"Can I pet you?" 

And the wolf leans in his direction. Eddie takes that as a yes, and buries his hand in the wolf's scruff, scratching him, deep and thoroughly. 

His fur is rougher than Eddie had anticipated. But thick. Layers and layers of gorgeous, brown hair. 

And the wolf gets closer and closer until he's resting his chin on Eddie's knee, where he falls asleep. 

Eddie grins.

He has a pet wolf. 

Hot damn. 

And that cements the routine. A full moon is in the sky? Eddie has a temporary wolf pet. He feeds it, and pets it, and quickly finds out it loves to roughhouse. Launching itself at Eddie, taking him down to the dirt. Rolling him.

Butting at his head, his face, under his chin, licking him. 

The first time he did it startled the shit out of Eddie, but after that, it's been expected. Eddie laughs, and the wolf barks. At least, Eddie's calling it a bark. It isn't the same as a dog barking, but it feels similar in usage.

Eddie finds an old rope in Wayne's shed, and they play tug-of-war until Eddie's sure his hands will blister. But if the wolf wants to play, Eddie isn't gonna pass up the chance to play with a wolf. 

Eddie bought a pack of tennis balls at Melvald's, and sure enough, the wolf loves to chase them and bring them back to Eddie. A wolf that will play fetch. Who'd have thought?

It's probably because he's a human. Or half-dog. Eddie isn't sure. But, if he is a werewolf?

"Hey. Listen. If you are a person, and you do understand me, you could come find me, you know? On any of the other days that you aren't, you know, grrr," Eddie states, holding up his hands in monster fashion. 

The wolf whines, and Eddie lets it go. 

He's cool with just having a once a month wolf pal. It's honestly the best of both worlds. Exotic pet, but he doesn't even have to get a permit for it. Win-win.

The wolf howls. 

"Too loud," Eddie admonishes. 

And then it looks sad. Goddammit. 

"Turn around," Eddie commands, and the wolf does exactly that. Eddie throws him a treat.

"Sit," and he does. Another treat.

"Beg," and that's the limit, apparently, because those eyes are looking at him like he's a goddamn fool. Eddie laughs, and tosses him the piece of lunch meat anyway. He's still a good boy. Even if he won't beg.

They spend all night together, until the wolf inevitably departs before morning light.

That's okay, he'll see him next month.

But when the next full moon has illuminated the night sky, the wolf hasn't shown up. It's several hours after dark, and Eddie's concerned. He's never this late, and now Eddie doesn't know where to search. The woods near the Fair Mart? Near Skull Rock again, where he first saw him? 

He's not sure where his homebase is, his den, or whatever.

All Eddie knows is that it doesn't make sense. He wouldn't just not show up. Not after all this time. 

Something's wrong. And the pit grows in Eddie's stomach, gnawing away, the fear and preemptive sorrow of the impending loss.

He's just developing a battle plan, when he hears the familiar whimper and whine. And there he is, coming up out of the trees. He's hurt. Wet, and filthy. Limping, tail tucked between his legs. There's a deep bleeding gash across his forehead. Dried blood matted into its fur. 

Eddie panics, just for a second, then he scurries up the steps, holding open the trailer door. The wolf doesn't hesitate, just lumbers in, and flops down on the floor as if he can't go any further. 

"What happened to you?" Eddie asks, then realizes he's not gonna get an answer. 

Eddie's never brought him inside before, but he's doing it today. Eddie quickly shuts and locks the door behind them, as if whatever tore him up, might decide to, Eddie doesn't know, follow him inside? Unlikely. But still. Better safe than sorry.

"Stay right there," Eddie says, and the wolf huffs in a way that sounds almost sarcastic. Like, where else would I go, asshole?

Eddie smiles, and knows he's probably crazy. But still. It feels that way. This wolf, his wolf, seems funny. Can a wolf even be funny? Eddie isn't sure. But this one damn well is. 

Wayne's probably gonna notice all the shedded hair, dirt and blood, and wet dog smell, but tonight Eddie's not gonna worry about it.

Tonight, he's gonna try to help his buddy out.

He's covered in mud, and he smells like a lake. 

"You need a bath," Eddie declares and the wolf gets up and walks towards the bathroom like he agrees. 

Eddie laughs, "Okay. Here's the deal. We're gonna pretend you're just an animal, alright?" 

And the wolf stops in the doorway, Eddie tells him to come on, but he won't budge. Eddie tries to get a grasp on him to pull him along without hurting him, but it's fruitless. He's too strong. 

"Very funny," Eddie says, "your stubborn dog that doesn't want a bath impression is, well, impressive." 

The wolf thumps his tail and then comes right into the bathroom and carefully climbs up into the tub. 

Eddie sprays him down to get him wet, then looks at the shampoo options, "Well, I hope wolves are okay with Pert Plus 2-in-1." 

And the wolf honest to god growls, baring his sharp, white fangs, while giving Eddie the dirtiest look a wolf could muster. 

Eddie isn't scared, but he is amused. 

"Well, I'm so sorry, I don't have wolf shampoo. No Mane and Tail, here. Do you have a better idea, tough guy?" Eddie doesn't think rubbing him down with a bar of Irish Spring sounds any better.

But he watches as the wolf looks around the tub ledge, as if he's actually weighing the options, before he nudges a light-colored bottle off with his nose, sending it clattering around the slick tub, making a hell of a racket. 

Eddie retrieves it. Apple Pectin. He assumes it must belong to Wayne's lady friend. It certainly isn't his or Wayne's, that's for damn sure. 

"Alright, Mr. Fancy Pants. If you want your fur to smell like apples, that's on you." 

And with the decision made, Eddie cleans him up carefully. Lathering him up, rinsing him off. After he's finished, and has dried him off the best he can with a towel, the wolf noses around the cabinets, which is curious. What's he looking for? Then he pulls out the cord of a hair dryer, one that has a comb attached.

"You've got to be kidding me?" Eddie asks, picking up the dryer.

Eddie's never seen it in his life. Wayne has no hair, and Eddie's definitely not a blown dry kind of guy. Must be Wayne's girlfriend's. Hope she doesn't mind a little wolf fur stuck in the teeth, because the wolf's not kidding, and he sits, eyes closed, like he's enjoying the heat as Eddie combs him dry. Eddie's very careful not to get it too close to any of his wounds.

Afterwards, once he's soft and fluffier than Eddie's ever seen the pampered mutt, Eddie wraps anything still bleeding, then sits down and pats the couch cushion next to him. The wolf doesn't hesitate. Just jumps up letting out a soft growl that was surely pulled out of him by launching off his injured leg. 

"I know it must hurt," Eddie says, as he pets him gently. The wolf lays his head on Eddie's thigh, and whines pitifully. Then turns his head, like he's watching the muted television right along with Eddie. Eddie looks down at him by the only light in the darkened room, the flickering screen. 

Eddie falls asleep there, with the warm, heavy weight leaning against him. And when he wakes up, still hazy with sleep, he opens his eyes just enough to witness the wolf nudging at the lock with his nose, and then the door is open, the wolf is gone, and the only proof he was ever there is lightweight trailer door lightly banging from the early morning breeze.

After a few more hours of sleep, Eddie realizes there isn't much to eat in the house, and that means he's gonna have to finally do the grocery shopping he's been putting off before Wayne actually kills him. 

And later, as Eddie's coming out of the Big Buy, bags in hand, he nearly runs into Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington, with a bandaged forehead and a slight limp. Smelling slightly of apple shampoo.

No fucking way.

Eddie's eyes widen.

"It's not what you think," Steve immediately says, which is suspicious. 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. 

"Okay. It's exactly what you think," Steve says, folding like a cheap suit.

And Eddie laughs, all his teeth showing, fucking thrilled by this turn of events. Steve Harrington. Eddie wouldn't have guessed him if given a million tries.

"Steve Harrington is my pretty, pet wolf," Eddie crows. 

Steve snorts, "I'm not your pet, Munson." 

"All the lap sitting says otherwise." 

"I've never sat on your lap!" 

"You would if you could, big boy," Eddie teases.

And Steve gives him just a hint of a grin, "Yeah, yeah. Um, you're not gonna tell anyone else about this, right?" Steve asks, looking at the blacktop of the parking lot, "Because if I need a head start outta town, just say so."

"From one freak to another, nope. I didn't see anything."

Steve smiles, "Thanks. Because I'm not exactly broadcasting this information." 

Eddie makes a move as if he's locking his lips, and then he throws away the imaginary key. 

They go their separate ways, and Eddie assumes that's the last he'll see of the wolf, and probably Steve Harrington, too.

And he can't help but be a little sad about it.

Eddie tries to distract himself. But his mind keeps telling himself that Steve Harrington, wolf or not, isn't gonna come hang out with Eddie "The Freak" Munson again now that Eddie knows who he is under all that fur. And Eddie hates it.

He's playing penny can with Gareth outside the house, taking turns tossing the coins from the step into an old coffee can, under the light of the full moon, when he feels eyes on him. 

Looking to the right, standing just around the edge of the trailer, is Steve peeking in their direction.

"Hey, you're here! C'mon, boy!" Eddie calls out, lighting up at the sight of him, and Steve rounds the corner like a happy dog. Tail flicking around nearly in circles as he prances, bopping around as he comes towards Eddie.

"That's…that's a wolf!" Gareth shouts, scooting backwards.

"Calm down, he's my friend, aren't you?" Eddie asks, and Steve pounces up on him, paws on Eddie's shoulders, licking his face.

"Whoa, hey there, it's good to see you, too," Eddie laughs, trying to get him to calm down. 

"You have a pet wolf?! Since when?" Gareth screeches.

"Sssh, do you want Mrs. Wilson from down the way sticking her nose into our business?" Eddie asks, then reiterates, "And I said he's my friend, not my pet." 

"You can't be friends with a wolf, Eddie, that's crazy, even for you," Gareth insists, and Steve raises his head and growls, just a little.

Gareth clambers up and into the safety of the trailer, and Eddie laughs, looking down at Steve's warm eyes. He gets it now. Can totally see that these eyes are similar to Steve Harrington's, "That's not nice, you know. Picking on the little scaredy cat. It's like something you'd see in, I don't know, high school."

And the wolf whines.

"Hey! I'm not a scaredy cat! That's a goddamn wolf! I'm just smarter than you!" Gareth yells through the door, and Eddie laughs.

Steve snuffles, and lays his head on Eddie's thigh. His rowdy greeting apparently over with, content to let Eddie pet him.

Eddie strokes him gently, and whispers, "I'm glad you came back."

Gareth is still watching from behind the glass, and Eddie tilts his head far enough back to see him, "Look at him? He's a sweetheart. He won't hurt you. Come back out here."

And Gareth does, but he's still clearly leery of this whole situation. But he sits back down, eventually asking, "Can I pet him?"

"I don't know, you better ask him," Eddie says, because it's definitely not his place to let anyone else manhandle Steve if he doesn't want to be touched by them.

But Steve stretches his head over, indicating that he'd be open to this additional petting.

"It's almost like he understands us," Gareth says.

"He's a smart boy for sure," Eddie answers, scratching Steve behind the ear, before patting him on the butt. 

Steve whips his head around and nips at Eddie's hand, then licks it, "Okay, okay, no butt pats. You're not a cat. Got it. Sorry."

"Does he have a name?" Gareth asks.

Eddie doesn't miss a beat, "Harry." 

"Well, that's original," Gareth snarks, but Eddie doesn't care. He's not giving Steve Harrington a dog name. And he can't exactly call him Harrington. That'd raise questions Eddie's not prepared to answer.

"Well, he is hairy, ain't he?" Eddie asks, and Gareth can't help but nod, and it pleases Eddie.

Wolf Steve hangs with them all night, until morning threatens to peek over the horizon, and then he slinks away into the pre-dawn light to presumably turn back into a real boy.

"You're friends with a freakin' wolf. Like you're Snow White or some bullshit," Gareth whispers, and he sounds a little awed as they watch the wolf go.

Hell, Eddie's awed, too.

And Eddie's gonna miss him. One night a month isn't enough.

But he'll just have to wait. Eddie can be patient. 

Maybe.

He doesn't have to be patient for long. The next night while Eddie is stretched out on the couch, there's a knock at the front door. When he answers it, there's Steve Harrington, in full human form, looking back at him.

"Harrington," Eddie greets, but Steve's not beating around the bush.

"So, about those butt pats," he says, and Eddie throws his head back and laughs as he opens the door even wider. An invitation.

Was that a pick-up line? If so, at least it was original.

Steve can't be serious. 

But Steve crosses the threshold, and two can play at this game. He'll play chicken with Steve on this, so Eddie jerks his head to the right, "Bedroom's back there, big boy."

Steve doesn't hesitate, he steps towards him, and starts corralling him towards the back of the trailer, through the kitchen, applying pressure, guiding, without even touching him, somehow. 

And as he does it, he's shedding clothes. Confident in a way Eddie could never dream of being.

Holy shit. Steve Harrington is really getting naked, as he's backing Eddie's towards his bedroom.

Eddie pedals backwards, just watching, letting Steve encroach on his personal space, and then, his bedroom.

Eddie wonders if being a wolf just makes you more open, more free.

He's not sure, but he scurries along backwards, and once they're both in the bedroom, Steve kicks the door closed behind them. Eddie tugs his shirt over his head, trying to catch up before Steve changes his mind.

Then Eddie pauses:

"If you bite me, will I become a wolf?"

Steve rolls his eyes, "I'm not going to bite you."

Eddie pauses, "Well, what if I bite you?"

"Why would you bite me?" Steve asks, a confused wrinkle forming across his forehead. 

"I mean…" Eddie trails off, nodding towards the bed. 

"Don't make me regret this decision, Munson," Steve says dryly, but he's amused. Eddie can see it in his eyes. 

Eddie isn't sure why Steve made this decision at all. 

"Why are you here, for this, with me anyway?" Eddie asks. He needs to know. They've barely spoken to each other since high school. As far as Eddie knows, Steve only fucks girls. But now he's here, like he owns the place, corralling Eddie to bed?

He's having trouble processing all this new information at once. Eddie's friends with the wolf version of Steve, sure, but he wouldn't say the same for human Steve Harrington.

"Because I've realized I like you. Because you were nice to me, in wolf form. You weren't scared-"

"I was scared shitless!" Eddie interrupts, and Steve laughs.

"For like the first second. After that you were pretty fucking cool about a wolf all up in your face. Don't lie."

"Well…"

"Well, nothing," Steve snips, then his voice softens, "You understood what I most likely was and didn't care. Even if you didn't know who I was, you were pretty fucking chill about me coming to hang out."

Eddie nods. That's true, he didn't care. He'd made a friend, as wolf-shaped as it was. 

"You gave me a bath."

"Hey! I thought we agreed you were just an animal during that," Eddie argues.

Steve smiles.

"Before you, the full moons were lonely. And I dreaded them. But you changed that," Steve explains further, "And after we bumped into each other at the grocery store, I was fucking mad, man. Like, running into you, having you find out that way, it felt like it was the end of something I really looked forward to every month. But then I never heard even a whisper of a rumor that you'd told anyone what you'd figured out."

"I haven't told anyone. Didn't especially think they'd believe me if I did," Eddie laughs. But honestly, it never crossed his mind to gossip. The wolf had been good to him, and he figured it was the least he could do to be nice back.

Tit for tat, as it goes.

For Steve Harrington, or anyone else.

"And I'm grateful. I think it's just me around here," Steve says, "I never see any other wolves." 

"How'd you become a werewolf, if there's no other werewolves around? That doesn't make a lick of sense," Eddie asks.

"It was a Russian torture drug that turned me. When the mall burned down? I wasn't bitten by anything."

"No shit?" Eddie asks. He's heard rumors of what actually happened at the mall, picked up and filed away snippets of information the sheepies have dropped in his presence without realizing it, but he's never heard about Russian torture.

Steve nods. 

"I don't know if they did it on purpose or not. Robin didn't have it happen to her. Just me. So, before you found me, I was just lone wolfing it during full moons, and hoping everything went okay. Robin hated that I was all alone, but it was what it was. Then, I found you."

Eddie nods, and looks at Steve, chest full of hair. He didn't have that in high school, as far as Eddie remembers.

"Side effect?" he asks, pointing to his chest. 

"Yeah, a little. I mean, I wasn't bald or anything before, but it's sure filled out. Age or wolf, I don't really know."

Steve Harrington really turns into a freakin' wolf. 

Eddie reaches forward and combs his fingers through Steve's chest hair, and Steve tilts his head back, and whines. 

Oh fuck. Eddie's done for. This is it. The end of him.

It's familiar, and different, all at once. It's Steve.

Eddie's dick is so goddamn hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans, but all he wants is for Steve to keep making those noises. 

He'll let Steve fuck him. Hell yes, he will. He'll roll over like, well, a fucking wolf, he supposes. Bare his neck. Get mounted. Claimed. Whatever Steve wants, needs.

Only, that's not what happens. His daydreaming was a little bit off, as Steve flops on Eddie's bed, naked, legs spread open. Hand on his hard cock, stroking it as he watches Eddie. 

Eddie isn't even sure where to look. Steve's hairy thighs, his hairier chest, the aforementioned gorgeous cock now laying heavy against Steve's belly. Or his very obviously glistening hole.

"Holy shit," Eddie says, asking, "you want me to, you know?" 

Steve laughs, and Eddie isn't even sure where it comes from, but Steve's flicking a condom Eddie's way. Eddie bumbles it a bit, but catches it in two hands.

Okay, okay. Shit. He can do this. 

Steve wants him to do this?

"You don't, like, want me to submit to you?" Eddie asks, undoing his belt buckle, eyes trained on Steve's. He would. 

Steve laughs, "Not really. I want this."

"Okay," Eddie says, "cool. That's cool."

"Cool," Steve repeats, mocking him a little bit as Eddie's jeans hit the ground, like he can't help but be amused by Eddie. And Eddie likes that.

Eddie crawls on the bed, and slides one hand into Steve's hair, pulling back a little, and Steve whimpers. He leans down and presses his lips to Steve's, kissing him for the first time and eventually Steve opens his mouth, breathing into Eddie's mouth.

Eddie pulls back, "That's a good boy."

And Steve's dick jumps against Eddie's belly, leaking precum between them as he whines, and oh, he's a good boy, indeed.

Eddie takes his hand from Steve's hair, and slides it down his body, bypassing his cock, grazing his thigh instead, before sliding to the inside, and down, under his balls, fingers brushing against Steve's already slick hole. Eddie slides one finger in, then two, and three, and realizes Steve wasn't fucking around. He's gotten himself ready. For Eddie.

Goddamn.

Rolling the condom down his own cock, Eddie thinks his hands are trembling. He can't believe this is happening.

"Hey," Steve says, leaning up onto his elbows, "look at me."

And Eddie does.

"We don't have to do this. If this isn't what you wan-"

"It is," Eddie interrupts, "fuck, it definitely is."

"Okay then," Steve answers, laying back again, and then he slides one foot along the bedding, dragging it upwards, until his knee is bent. He's fucking gorgeous, and confident, and for whatever reason, wants Eddie. It's. It's, yeah. "Whenever you're ready."

Eddie's ready now, and he slots himself between Steve's thighs, lifting him up a little as he lines up and presses inside, deeper and deeper until he's bottomed out. 

His dick is in Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington is his wolf.

Steve whines, and Eddie takes the cue, and starts fucking him in earnest. Cock sliding in and nearly out easily, his balls slapping against Steve's skin with every rough thrust as he builds up a rhythm. 

He's fucking Steve Harrington, and Steve Harrington is liking it by the sounds he's making. By his actions. 

Fingers digging into Eddie's shoulders, his back, his ass, spurring him on.

It's not gonna last long. Eddie's too overstimulated by everything that's happened, and might happen again, in the future. 

He wraps his fist around Steve's dick, wanting to get him off first, and as soon as Steve comes all over his own hairy belly, Eddie slams back into him, chasing his own orgasm. Coming inside him, filling the condom, with a long groan.

Eddie never wants to leave, but he eventually pulls out, and gets up to dispose of the condom. He grabs his shirt and wipes Steve's stomach halfway clean, and then stands there, unsure what comes next. 

Is Steve gonna go? Gonna stay?

Stay apparently, because Steve opens his arm, and Eddie crawls into bed, sliding up against him. Sweat-slick bodies slotting together until they find a comfortable position. 

Laying with him, the afterglow making his mind fuzzy, Eddie wonders if wolves mate for life. 

He sure fucking hopes so.

When the next full moon fills the night sky, Eddie borrows Uncle Wayne's truck, and holds open the passenger door for his wolfie, watching as Steve easily hops in. Eddie rolls down the window with the hand crank, since Steve can't do it for himself in wolf form, and then goes around and slides into the driver's seat.

Enrichment, that's the plan. Steve doesn't need to spend all of his full moons cooped up in the trailer. He needs to be free. Wild. Run around. Feel the wind blow through his fur, or whatever. Eddie doesn't want to tame him, only love him.

So, Eddie takes him out into the country, driving the winding dirt backroads, until he finds a wide-open space, a field where Steve can run. Eddie runs with him, not nearly able to keep up with his speed, and once Eddie's quickly worn out, he sits down in the soft grass, intent to keep watching.

But Steve runs up and nudges Eddie under the chin with his snout, rubbing all over him, and Eddie lets him do it, Eddie eventually collapsing onto his back. Then, Steve crawls on top of him, the heavy weight of the wolf pushing him into the ground below. Eddie feels Steve's stomach growl against him, and he knows they'll meet Robin for breakfast in the morning, where Steve will absolutely decimate a huge stack of pancakes and anything else from their plates that he can get his hands on.

Wolfing makes his boyfriend hungry. And Eddie chuckles: boyfriend. Steve Harrington is his boyfriend.

And his wolf, who is currently licking Eddie's face, making him squirm and laugh harder as Eddie scritches the back of Steve's neck.

He's a good boy, Eddie's good boy, somehow.

And once Steve's tired himself out, Eddie loads him up into the truck, grinning as they head back to town. Glancing between the open stretch of road before him, and Steve beside him, hanging his head out of the open window, howling at the moon.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, pop over to @steddie-spooktober and follow along with the spooky fun! 🐺

Notes: Title is from the Metallica song of the same name. Pert Plus 2-in-1 came out in 1987, so I guess it's at least 1987 here, lol. Apple Pectin was a real shampoo. It was discontinued. RIP, Apple Pectin. I haven't actually smelled you in thirty years, but your scent is still seared into my brain.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Coming Out

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: some explicit language, mention of an unsub hurting Emily 😱, vague insinuations of homophobia, mostly fluff on fluff, feat. loyal himbo Derek Morgan Word Count: 2k

Summary: Emily gets injured on the job, and all she really wants is you, her girlfriend. But she's not out to the rest of the team yet. Can she be vulnerable enough to share that part of herself with the team? Can she be vulnerable enough to let you take care of her? Takes place at the end of S3.E2.

Emily dabbed at her head and winced, checking her watch to see if it had been long enough to take more pain medication. But despite getting clocked with a plank of wood, she was glad to be on the jet, glad to be back with her team because they really were starting to feel like her team. Who was she kidding? She loved her job.

According to the pilot, the team would be landing at Quantico in a little over an hour. Emily grabbed her phone, discreetly shoving it into her pocket, before heading to the back of the plane. She needed to call you, but the rest of the team didn't know about you yet. Hell, the rest of the team didn't even know she was gay. It felt too personal, and she'd been hurt by people's reactions–people she loved and trusted deeply–too many times. She played her relationships and her sexuality close to the vest.

Reid tapped Emily's arm as she passed by.

"Oh! Are you going all the way to the back?"

Emily tensed. "Yep."

"Could you bring me a Sprite?"

She felt her shoulders relax, and she patted Reid on the arm. "Sure."

After knocking on the bathroom door to make sure that truly no one was around, she called you, her voice hushed as she rifled through tiny airplane soda cans, looking for Reid's Sprite.

"Hey, Em," you said, your voice bright.

"Hey," she said, a goofy smile spreading across her face. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing much. Saw a street rat earlier. I named him Guillermo. I think he's on the prowl for a girlfriend."

Emily laughed, covering her mouth.

"How was Milwaukee?" you asked.

"Good. Really good. We got the guy. We're on the plane now."

She could nearly hear how smug you were through the phone.

"You're glad you went back," you snickered, relishing in being right. She'd sworn that it wasn't a big deal, that it'd be easy to get another good job, but you knew her heart was with the BAU.

Emily sighed. "I am. You were right."

"You're gonna stay?"

"Looks that way."

"I knew it!" you crowed. "I'm glad. You're too good at your job to quit it."

"Thanks, love. Listen, Y/N, can I ask you a favor?"

"Of course! Anything."

Emily winced, touching the swollen bump on her head. "We land in about an hour. Can you pick me up and stay at my place tonight?"

"Wow." You drew out the vowel, milking the fact that Emily needed you for once. "You missed me that much, huh?"

"Well, yes, of course, but... I, uh... I kind of have a concussion?"

Your tone shifted immediately from smug to concerned. "What?! Why?! What happened!?"

"Unsub hit me with a plank of wood," she admitted reluctantly.

"Jesus Christ, Em! Are you okay!?"

"I'm fine, baby, I promise," she reassured you. "I just got a little banged up, that's all. But I'll need you to wake me up every few hours and make sure I'm cognizant."

"I think I have some soup in the freezer," you observed, your voice far away. You'd put her on speakerphone to rifle through the cabinets. "And I have a thermometer. I don't know, do concussions cause fevers? I've never had one."

Emily shook her head, smiling. She loved that your first response, always, was to take care of her. Emily was not used to being taken care of, and she didn't let many people do it. She certainly wouldn't let many people see it either. But she let you.

"No thermometers needed. Just you and your car and more you when we get home."

"You got it. When did you say you land?"

"In about an hour."

"Okay. I'll leave in a few."

"Oh," Emily added quickly. "And you're cleared to drive into Quantico. They know the car you drive and they've got your ID on file. Just show it to them at the gate."

You paused. "Well, that's a little Big Brother of them."

"I gave it to them a few months ago. Just in case you ever needed to come by. Sorry, I should've told you."

"It's okay," you decided, pulling on a jacket and a beanie. "It feels kind of badass to be on Quantico's list."

Emily laughed, almost excited to have a concussion because it meant you'd be snuggled right up to next to her for however long it took to get better. 48 hours at least.

"Alright, baby," she finished, Reid's Sprite in hand. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Bye, love."

Emily wiped the grin off her face before returning to the cabin with Reid's Sprite–it'd look suspicious if she was too happy coming back.

An hour later, the team was going their separate ways in the parking lot, waving goodbyes and slamming car doors under the buzzing lights.

Emily leaned on the wall outside the building entrance, relishing the crisp night air.

"You need a ride, Prentiss?" Morgan asked as he walked out, used go-bag slung over his shoulder. "You shouldn't be driving" He pointed to her head.

"No, that's okay," Emily waved him off. "I've got– uh... someone's... picking me up."

Fuck, she thought. The concussion was not helping her ability to lie well.

Morgan stared at her suspiciously.

"What?" Emily laughed, trying to act normal.

"Why are you acting shifty?"

"I'm not!" she protested.

Morgan smirked and waggled his eyebrows. "Do you have a secret boyfriend?"

"What?" Emily said, laughing a little too forcefully. "No!"

He crossed his arms and waited. "You're seriously not gonna tell me?"

Emily leaned against the brick wall, rubbing her forehead. On the one hand, she was tired of keeping you–and herself–a secret. And if anyone was going to be supportive of someone on the team getting laid, it would be Morgan. But on the other, did she really know that much about him? She didn't know his religious background. Sure, he'd defend a gay victim, but that was his job. This was personal.

Emily sighed before replying. "I have... I have a secret girlfriend."

The silence felt like it lasted hours, stretching between them until Emily was sure the chasm would never close again, and that with just a few words, just by being herself, she'd ruined any chance of a friendship with Derek Morgan. It wouldn't be the first time. It probably wouldn't be the last.

Morgan seemed to think deeply before leaning against the wall next to Emily, turning to look her in the eye.

"Prentiss, why didn't you tell us you were gay?"

Emily was afraid to look at him, but when she did, her heart soared. He looked at her with nothing but love and respect and appreciation, no hint of hatred or disgust. If anything, he looked sad that she'd waited so long to tell him.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I don't always get a good reaction."

"Well, you know nobody on this team would have a problem with that, right? Hell, Garcia'd probably hang pride flags everywhere."

"I know," Emily nodded. "I just... I don't think I'm ready yet. For everyone to know. Soon, though."

Morgan nodded, then thought for a few minutes before asking, "Is it serious?"

Emily chuckled. "Being gay? Yeah, I'd say so."

Morgan shoved her shoulder gently, mindful of the day's injuries. "No! The girl! How long have you been seeing her?"

"A little over six months."

"So, it's serious."

Emily grinned. She was glad to have someone to talk to about this. She'd held it so close for so long. She wasn't used to having anyone to tell about you. Maybe Morgan could be that person.

"Promise not to tell the others?"

Morgan put his hand over his heart. "Promise."

"I'd marry her tomorrow if she'd let me."

"Wow." Morgan raised his eyebrows, smiling lightly. "Prentiss is in love," he said, teasing her.

Emily fought a wide smile, but lost in the end. "Oh, shut up. And don't tell anyone. Especially her."

"Your secret's safe with me," Morgan reassured her. And she could tell he meant it. Emily trusted him, she realized. She trusted him to be a good friend, to keep her secrets. She trusted him not to out her to the rest of the team. He'd let her go at her own pace when it came to telling the others.

"She better be amazing," Morgan added. "I don't know how anyone could be good enough for you."

Just at that moment, a pair of headlights crept slowly into the parking lot, hesitant and unsure. It had to be you. Emily stepped forward and waved a bit, then turned to Morgan.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow?" she said.

"Not with that head, you won't," Morgan observed.

You put the car in park next to the curb and leapt out of the driver's seat, hurrying over to Emily.

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, anger and concern washing over you. "I thought you you said you were fine!"

You gingerly touched Emily's face and pulled her head down to examine the butterfly bandage above her eyebrow.

"Look at this," you grumbled, more to yourself than anyone else. "It's already bruising." You glared at the butterfly bandage. "Did a doctor do this or you? If it was you, I think we should clean it with rubbing alcohol at home."

Morgan looked absolutely delighted, both because you seemed like a delightful person and because Emily was beet red at being observed with you.

"Y/N, I'm fine," Emily said firmly, grasping your fingers in hers and removing them from her face. "This is my colleague Derek Morgan. Morgan, my girlfriend, Y/N."

You looked Morgan over and immediately decided you liked him. Mostly because you could tell that he really cared about Emily. But also because he looked mischievous, like he'd tease her. And if there was anything you loved, it was teasing Emily. You shook his hand enthusiastically. "It's really nice to meet you," you said. And you meant it.

But you didn't have time to chat with Morgan tonight. You were too worried about Emily.

"You don't look fine," you argued, looking to Morgan for backup. "Does she look fine to you?"

Morgan grinned at Emily, raising his eyebrows. "She definitely looks like she could use some TLC."

"Oh, and she'll get it alright," you assured him, opening the passenger door for Emily. "Shall we?"

Emily bent gingerly to get into the car, and you were careful to guard her head from the ceiling.

"Derek, it was really nice to meet you," you said, shaking his hand one more time for good measure as Emily rolled down the window, staring bullets at Morgan.

"You too, Y/N," he said, looking over your shoulder at Emily. "I hope you all have a very marry evening."

Emily pointed at him aggressively behind your back, mouthing, "SHUT. UP."

"See you, Prentiss," he called as you pulled away. He laughed and called out, "I hope it's a real honeymoon from work!"

Emily's hand shot out the window, flipping him off.

Later that night, your alarm buzzed and you blinked awake. You forgot for a moment that you were at Emily's, but her strong arms wrapped protectively around your waist were enough to remind you where you were.

You turned slowly to face a sleeping Emily, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Em. Hey. You gotta wake up, honey."

She groaned, placing a hand on her head.

"Sorry," you grimaced. "Gotta make sure your brain's alright."

"My brain is fine," she growled.

"Oh, yeah?" you joked, checking the time before shaking a few pills into your hand from the pill bottle on the nightstand. "Who am I, then?"

"The love of my life, Whitney Houston."

You laughed, which made Emily laugh, too. But she quickly doubled over in pain, groaning.

"Here, take these," you said gently, handing her the pills and a glass of water. "It'll help."

She took the pills obediently and lay back down.

"You know," you said, pulling up the blankets to make sure they covered Emily's shoulders. "I may not be Whitney Houston..." You wrapped your arms around her and drew her to you, and she burrowed her head into the space between your neck and your collarbone.

"But I think I'm a close second," you finished, running your fingers rhythmically through Emily's hair.

She sighed contentedly, pressing into you, then moving one of your arms to wrap it more tightly around her.

"Why are you so good to me?" she asked, quiet. You couldn't quite tell if it was a joke or serious, but you'd reply the same either way.

"Because I love you, you nerd."

She leaned up, planting a kiss underneath your chin. "I love you, too."

Within minutes she was conked out again, and you were setting another alarm, ready to do it all over again in a few hours.

[dearhargrove]

thirty feet under

Evan Buckley x reader

summary The last thing you expected to see on the news tonight is Eddie trapped under 30 feet of mud with your husband desperately trying to get him out. Knowing how reckless he could get, you drive there after informing Bobby and have a talk with Buck.

word count 4734

tags basically s3 e15, reader and Buck are married, fluff, and hurt :<

a/n I dunno I was just sad watching that episode like the way Buck was immediately trying to dig Eddie up? I'm crying actually. I love these two fr. Yeah wtv I just needed to write something where Buck isn't suffering lmao 😭

masterlist

You've been following the news ever since you first saw that the 118 was at the scene of the small boy trapped in the well. You had nothing better to do, and if you had the chance to watch your husband work? You took it.

What you weren't expecting almost an hour ago was the drastic changes and complications arising as they tried getting Hayden - the trapped boy - out.

The obnoxious news reporter is talking about the weather and what's happening but you've stopped listening long ago. Your eyes were transfixed onto the background where Eddie was getting ready to go down the second tunnel they'd made in order to reach the boy safely.

However, something wasn't right. You don't know if it's Hen’s nervous expression or the overall unease of the team that carries through the screen, but something feels off.

You bury your hands in your hair as you continue to watch. The rain is pouring hard, the mud seems to be making everything worse and there were more firefighters arriving at the scene by the minute.

You're basically praying when the cameraman zoomes past the news reporter and onto Eddie as he's being let down into the hole. Evan is behind the winch, brows furrowed. You could see it on his face too; noone in the team seemed to be happy with this.

Considering they were letting one of their own down a 30 foot drop without fully knowing how stable the ground was, you understood.

For the first time since the broadcast started the blonde is quiet, microphone held at her chest as she watches and waits to see what's going to happen.

You're quite literally on the edge of your seat, knees pressing into the couch table as your hands press together anxiously. You trusted Bobby. He would never allow a plan to go through if it wasn't thoroughly planned and ensured at least a certain amount of safety to his team.

Nevertheless, your eyes move to Buck. He's clenching the remote control of the winch so tight in his hands you're sure if the material weren't as slippery from the rain he would've broken it. He doesn't just look stressed anymore but anxious.

That's a look you don't see often; he's confident and stubborn (arguably stupid and reckless). If he does something he commits to it and he's sure of it. But right now? He's the opposite. Bobby has a hand on his shoulder and you're thankful for his sensitivity to Buck’s feelings, the silent comforting visibly (to you - who could read Evan like an open book) helping him.

“Come on,” you chant under your breath as minutes pass. How could this be taking so long? Wasn't there a limited amount of time Eddie could be down there? You're sure he was wearing an oxygen tank and you remember Evan talking about the limited time that posed.

“And what is that- the rope has seemingly snapped! Neither the boy or the firefighter of the 118 is back up,” the news reporter is almost yelling now and you're thankful for her awful screeching voice as it had made you listen to what she's saying.

Wait. Did she say the rope snapped?

You frown and stand up, unable to keep sitting as you spot Evan’s devastated look as he discusses something with Chim. Oh goodness. This isn't happening. Why is the rope the only thing coming back up?

“The weather is getting worse as the firefighters decide to send down a second one, hoping this time the rope works. We're expecting a thunderstorm and the rain will continue-” you blend her out again as you see Chimney now in Eddie's spot.

“Jesus,” you mumble. He's down in a second, everyone moving even faster than before. Evan had his fists stemmed on his hip, watching the descent of his friend. Knowing him as well as you did, you're almost one hundred percent sure Buck had discussed going down instead - no doubt being shut down by either Hen or Bobby.

You couldn't help but feel glad he hadn't been the one as you could continue keeping your eyes on him.

It's Bobby's eyes which widen first, jaw dropping. Next follow Hen and lastly Evan. There, secured on the rope is Chim with a tiny boy wrapped in some kind of foil that would help him get his body temperature up again. His mother is crying as she welcomes him back into her arms, your lips quirking into a smile at the wholesome scene.

Now only Eddie was missing.

The 118 was discussing something in the back when you decide to text Bobby, seeing Evan being reprimanded by said man.

I'll come over and stay out of the way - just gotta make sure Buck does nothing too stupid…

You text the captain and receive a thumbs up emoji a moment later. You grab your phone, keys and wallet before hurrying to your car and driving there.

When you arrive your glad for the raincoat you'd picked, pulling it tight around your body as you try finding a spot where you wouldn't be in anyone's way.

You find it soon enough, and the first thing you notice is something akin to an argument breaking out between Hen and your husband. You sigh and hope he wouldn't do anything reckless, because by God that was his specialty. Bobby pats his shoulder more aggressively than necessary and points in your direction.

Buck turns around and when he spots you his face practically melts; excusing himself as he jogs over to the fence you'd decided to stand.

“How is it going? Where is Eddie?” You ask almost immediately and Evan sighs heavily before frowning again. You press your thumb against his forehead and smooth out the worry wrinkles, him already so used to the gesture he barely notices.

“He's- he's trapped. He cut his rope for some reason and we can't reach him over the radio. We're sending someone else down to see what happened down there.”

You curse and slide your hand to rest on his cheek. His skin is cold and wet from the rain and you're certain he caught a cold by now.

“You're not going,” you say. It's a question and demand at the same time; you trust him to do the right thing but he easily becomes reckless. He didn't like when you pointed it out, but it was true. It had gotten you two into an argument more than a handful of times but he never ceased to be stubborn when on a call.

“What do you mean? Of course I'm going, Eddie's down there!” He huffs and stiffens, leaning away from your hand on his face in the same notion. “Evan,” you start and he looks up from his feet and into your eyes, the pleading look in his eyes making you melt a little.

“I know you're capable of doing this but-”

“No! I'm capable so why shouldn't I?” He interrupts and you unhappily note the reporter approaching. You glare at him before putting on a fake smile when the woman stops in front of the two of you.

“Do you have a minute?” She asks and you almost roll your eyes at the flirty tone she regards your husband with.

He smiles shortly and excuses himself, looking at you meaningfully before going back to the rest of his team. She turns to you and before you can escape she starts talking, the camera right in your face. Great. You'd been ready for bed when you decided to drive here (and look accordingly) and now you're on national news.

“How do you know him? What did you talk about? There seemed to be some tension.” She makes an oohing noise and this time you can't contain your eye roll. “I was simply talking to my husband. Now excuse me please,” you see the shocked look on her face and she nervously adjusts her hair before turning back to the camera.

“Evan Buckley!” You say loud enough that not only Bobby but Hen and Chim turn around as well, eyebrows raised in surprise at your presence. The one you actually addressed was currently busy getting into a harness.

You stand behind him, mumbling thanks to Bobby when he steadies you as your feet slip on the mud and wet ground. “What do you think you're doing?”

Buck looks at you over his shoulder, red goggles on his face and similar gear to what Eddie had worn. “My job,” he grunts and you sigh exasperatedly. “I see that, I have two eyes.” Frankly you didn't want to be this upset. He wasn't special as in he should get special treatment; the team risked their lives daily all the same.

But you were scared. You'd seen it many times; he'd get an idea and pull through with it, no matter what anyone says or what the odds are. It simply pisses you off that he never thinks of anyone else.

He acts like no one cares whether he lives or dies and that's what's really bothering you, once again as he is getting ready to go down.

The desperation must be visible on your face because Bobby's comforting hand moves to your shoulder and you exhale and look at him, lips quivering.

“I'm sorry I shouldn't be bothering here, I don't know what came over me.” You apologize and suck up the tears stemming from foreboding fear.

He shakes his head, “It's okay, you know we'll tell you if you're in the way.” You nod and wrap your arms around yourself, ready to at least tell Buck you loved him before he went down.

You flinch at the Crack of the thunder. And then there's white sparks everywhere as the lightning strikes the crane, causing the LED lights to fail and cast everything in darkness. There's screaming and you just barely see Buck unclasping his harness before his arms wrap around your waist and he throws himself backward.

You scream as you cling to his arm, utterly confused until the crane creaks horribly and starts falling. It looks and feels as if it's in slow motion but it gets faster the closer it comes and then it lands on the earth with a loud booming sound.

You heave in shock at the whole thing until Buck let's go of you and runs the few steps to the well.

And that's when you see it. Your face falls and your pulse accelerates when there's not one or two holes but none. Someone to your left yells that the ground collapsed and over the ringing in your ears you see Buck kneeling over the spot as he claws at the mud, screaming in vain.

You whimper when the realization comes that Eddie is still down there. Under pounds if not tons of earth with no way out. You Clasp a hand over your mouth as tears fall down your face. Eddie would make it, you convince yourself in order to calm down enough to think rationally - especially to be there for who needed you most right now.

“Baby, come on, you'll save him but you need to come this isn't safe,” you urge as you tug at Bucks shoulders. He resists, muscles straining as he keeps digging only for every hole he makes to be filled with more mud. “Evan, please,” you cry and he snaps out of it, heavily breathing as he turns around to look at you.

He's crying and you can see the pure desperation and fear replaying on his face. “Inside! We need to discuss plans!” Bobby yells and makes a motion with his hand before all of the remaining 118 hurries after him and into the house.

“Let's go, yeah? They're thinking of a way to find him,” you repeat to your devastated husband. He whimpers and tries to say something as he weakly claws at the earth, you shush him and pull him into your chest, uncaring of the mud and dirt covering you both now.

“He'll be okay. You know Eddie. He would never leave Christopher alone.” he shakily nods and moves his hand to your hips to squeeze them. He knocks his forehead against yours and you can feel his exhaustion as he leans fully onto you.

“Buck you gotta calm down and focus. You can do that, right?” He nods dazedly and you move your hand onto the nape of his neck, cupping it to ground him.

“Eddie needs you. Focus. No stupid or reckless decisions.” He manages a tiny glare at you before he closes his eyes and inhales deeply, opening them when he's ready. There's new determination cursing through him as he stands up and pulls you to stand with him.

The pouring rain sticks his hair onto his forehead and you swear he's the most beautiful person to walk this earth. His blue eyes wander over your face and he seems to find what he was looking for when he presses a tender kiss to your lips, nose and forehead.

“I'm sorry I just- I can't lose him. Chris can't lose him,” he mumbles and you nod in understanding. “Shh, I know.” You keep your hand to cup his face for a moment and then sigh, ushering him towards the house. He frowns and pulls you with him but you smile and shake your head, “I'll go relieve Carla. I haven't seen Chris in a while anyway.”

He nods but is reluctant to let you go, kissing your forehead again and mumbling an ‘I love you’ into your skin. You smile and soothe your thumb over his knuckles, “I love you more. Be careful.” You say the last part with a warning but worried tone and glance at him with a small frown.

He huffs amused and pecks your temple before stepping back and adjusting the hood of your raincoat to sit tightly on your head, “I will be. Tell Chris I said hi and that I want to do a sleepover again.” You laugh and he does too for a second until his eyes and expression dull and the looming threat to Eddie's life moves back to the forefront of his thoughts.

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, mumbling something and then looking up again. He begins to say something when a commotion to the side drowns his voice out. Confused you both turn around and his arm slips around your waist to keep you close - a habit you adored.

“What?” You mumble. The huddle of people clears and in the middle is Eddie - his arms are limply slung over two other firefighters’ shoulders and his head is hanging down. His entire gear is dripping wet as if he'd gone for a swim (well technically he probably did… you note mentally as the positive shock wears off). His helmet and goggles are missing, hair sticking to his forehead and most worryingly his eyes are bloodshot and red, earth and mud dirtying his usually clear skin.

“What..?” Evan breathes out and his arm drops from around you as he runs over to his best friend and carelessly pulls him into a hug. You see Eddie's smile as he rests his head in the crook of Evan's neck, sluggishly moving his arms around the others shoulders to hold himself up. The two men who had helped him hover for a second in case their help was needed again but when Evan keeps clinging to the older they retreat.

Then you feel Hen, Bobby and Chimney rush past you - the two paramedics with their first aid bags. You're unsure whether to put your plan from a moment ago into reality or if you could be of help here when Buck starts dragging Eddie along and over to you.

With a stressed sigh you approach them, stopping a foot in front of them with a warning glance, “You both should get in the ambulance and let these two,” you point to Hen and Chim, “do their job. No wandering around, boys.”

Evan pouts and Eddie manages a chuckle that still clearly showcases how tired out and overall done he is but you welcome it nevertheless. “You're like, way too strict. He basically just drowned,” Evan starts, and both you and Eddie roll your eyes - you in fond annoyance and Eddie in amusement.

“Wow. Why do I always get the attitude?” He huffs and side eyes you as he drags Eddie to the ambulance but not before mouthing another ‘I love you’.

Shaking your head you pull down the hood of your coat and nod at Bobby, signaling him you were going to leave now. He nods and turns back to whatever important duties he had now.

After a last glance into the ambulance (where Buck actually sat still for once) you get your keys and drive off. The drive to Chris and Eddie is only about half an hour and when you get there you still see the light in the kitchen on. This was unusual - normally Carla would just watch some TV with the lights off when she waited until early in the morning for Eddie to come back.

You knock on the front door and wait, the older woman opening the door with a wide smile, “Thought I saw you approach. I saw you on the news, you wanna tell me what that's about, girl?”

You laugh and shake your head, reciprocating the warm hug and stepping into the house. “It's pretty boring. Thought I'd spend the night here today, Eddie will probably not be home tonight or tomorrow…” You solemnly explain and she hums.

“Saw it on the news. And.. for some reason he did too,” she sighs heavily and walks you to the living room. And surely there is Christopher perched on the sofa with a worried little frown on his forehead as he watches the news.

You furrow your brows and nod, “Did he see it all?” She nods again and you understand why the little boy wasn't in bed although it was nearing two in the morning when his usual bedtime is nine thirty.

“Chris? Hey, buddy!” You smile and ruffle his hair. He grins at you in that adorable way and you wave at Carla over his shoulder as she grabs her bag and keys. “You wanna explain why you aren't in bed?” He looks a bit guilty but pouts stubbornly. “I saw dad on the news.”

You didn't really need more explanation - you knew Chris worried for his father in the same manner Eddie was probably currently thinking about his son.

“I saw him too. And you know what?” He looks at you with big but tire, dropping eyes. “He's with some nice doctors now and he's gonna be completely fine again very quickly. Doesn't that sound good?”

He ponders for a moment and then slowly nods, “Buck?” A chuckle escapes you and you grin, “He's fine too.”

“Then why were you angry with him?” He asks and it takes you embarrassingly long to connect the dots. The news reporter seemingly had shown your and Evans little dispute earlier. “I wasn't angry with him he was just being stupid,” you shake your head and explain.

Chris hums and looks back at the news report. You bite your lip in thought and then tilt your head, “Do you want to talk to Buck?” Christopher basically lights up and nods eagerly clasping his hands under his chin as you video call Evan - praying he was still with Eddie and that in a few minutes Christopher would be calmed enough to finally go to bed.

“Baby? Don’t worry I’m fine the doctors just checked me out,” he’s slumped in a hospital chair in a way you know will have him complaining about his neck hurting tomorrow and his eyes are just as droopy and tired as the ones of the boy next to you.

“That’s good. There’s someone who really wants to talk to you.” Chris squeezes into the frame and you chuckle before handing him the phone, watching Bucks face light up as he sees him, “Chris! Hi, bud! What are you still doing up?”

Said boy giggles and starts recounting his evening. You start cleaning up a bit meanwhile, getting everything ready for Chris to go to sleep and for Eddie to return home without going straight to cleaning (because he would and that man really needs to rest for once).

The living room gets suspiciously quiet and you put down the kitchen towel and plate to check up on the two boys. “Chris?” Your heart melts when you see him laying down on the sofa with your phone clutched in your hand, still on the call and showing your husband also napping.

You gently take the phone and put it on the table to briskly talk to Evan after putting Chris to bed. Then you put an arm under his back and the other under his knees to carry him to his room. Luckily Christopher doesn’t wake up and you quickly tuck him in before leaving the room with the door opened a bit.

You turn off the lights except for the small lamp next to the sofa and pull a blanket up to your chin with your phone back in your hand.

“Buck?” He grunts in his sleep and the phone slips from his hand until it’s laying on the hospital bed and you huff a quiet laugh.

“Alright, I love you.” You whisper and hang up, quickly texting him to tell you when Eddie would be back.

The next morning you wake up to someone poking your cheek repeatedly and before remembering where you were you almost turn around and continue sleeping.

Then a small but very much insistent voice calls your name.

You squint your eyes at the light streaming in from the sun, the shadow keeping your eyes from being blinded belongs to Chris. “We need to visit Dad.” He decides in a sure voice. You stretch and sit up, reaching out to gently make him sit down as well.

“Visit him? I don’t know if we can yet I’ll have to ask the doctors…” Chris huffs unhappily and you nod in understanding. “I know, but you’ll see him soon.” Reaching for your phone you stop in your tracks when there’s a thump at the door before two voices can be heard throughout the hallway and into the living room.

Christopher looks at you with a confused look and your nervousness evaporates when you hear an exclaimed curse and another voice scolding him after. Well, that could only be your husband and the only one Chris wanted to see right now.

“Dumb and dumber are here,” you whisper to Chris and he giggles. After Bobby had called them that once Chris had picked it up and now it was kind of an inside joke between him and almost all of the 118 - to the displeasure of the two guys.

He holds his arms out and you pick him up, sneaking to the door to watch as one of them seems to try and get the key to fit into the designated spot.

“Let’s let them in?” The boy in your arms nods and you open the door, staring at Eddie and Evan with raised eyebrows. “You guys should never try robbing someone.”

Bucks jaw drops in offense and you can practically see the rebuttal on his face but he keeps it to himself and simply holds up two plastic bags, “We got breakfast.”

Chris is busy reaching for Eddie who seemed a bit unsteady on his feet but other than visible bruises he looked fine. You smile at him and pat his shoulder as he walks inside, kissing his son's head and gently murmuring about something as you focus on Evan.

“Morning,” you finally greet and lean up for a kiss, Evan gratefully giving you one. He grins down at you and then at the boy in your arms, “Chris! Did you protect her all night?” He asks with an exaggerated voice and you laugh and roll your eyes but take the plastic bags with food from him and pass Chris into his arms.

You leave the two to themselves as you look at Eddie and sigh before hugging him, “You scared us half to death yesterday.” He shrugs and grins “What else would I be doing other than stress you guys out?”

Your jaw momentarily drops and he grins with a shrug and fakes sympathy as he pats your shoulder. You two walk into the kitchen to prepare the food onto plates.

“How are you? Be honest,” you warningly add, fully aware of his habit to minimize his worries and pains same as your husband.

“Sore. Probably added some trauma to the collection.” He jokes and you look at him over your shoulder with a glare that makes him laugh. “No really. I’m fine. Just needed some rest and the bruises will go away with time.”

Nodding, you cross your arms over your chest and catch a glimpse of Buck holding Chris up and pretending to be an airplane. “How is he? He was ready to dig the earth up with his own hands when you got trapped.” You sigh.

Eddie nods and shakes his head, “Yeah, no he was pretty worried. I got quite the lecture when I woke up.” You both laugh at that and then you pass him two plates while taking the other two, “Let’s eat breakfast.”

-

When you’re home that evening you both are dead tired and yet Buck insists on carrying you up the stairs and helping you change into your pajamas (though you’re sure that was just for his enjoyment).

“I have tomorrow and the day after off. You know what that means? All day in bed,” he grins as he flops down onto the mattress next to you. With a smile you comb your hand through his hair and smooth your thumb along his temple.

“You definitely need to rest.” You agree and he turns his head to look at you, “Nope. I need you. So you better call in sick as long as I’m off.”

You huff at his demanding tone, raise both eyebrows and lean back on your elbows. The mattress and pillows make you groan in comfort as you concentrate your gaze onto him.

He was halfway laying down on his side with his arm propped up under him. He was wearing some black shorts and a dark blue t-shirt that was too tight around his biceps. His eye bags are worse than usual and you can tell since that night Eddie almost died he hasn't been sleeping well. His hair is an adorable mess and you don't refrain from reaching out and gently carding your hand through it.

He hums and closes his eyes with a small smile tugging on his lips. “I'll call in sick,” he perks up and opens his eyes again, a smirk replacing his earlier smile before you interrupt, “But only because I can actually feel that I'm getting a cold and not because you're asking me to.” He pouts and it goes unsaid by either of you that he played a big part in you taking some sick days.

After all, you usually put your health on the back burner, focusing on your job and other things like grocery shopping. Buck had always had a problem with that, lecturing you whenever he came home to see you passed out on the couch with tissues around you and a mountain of blankets keeping him from being able to throw himself on top of you.

“Alright, baby. I'm gonna be Doctor Buckley!” He grins and sits up, dusting off his shoulders and puffing out his chest. The action makes you burst into laughter and you fall on your back. He takes that as an invitation to lean over you and pretend to check your airways and pulse, pressing his ear over your sternum.

“You're so childish,” you comment and he happily ignores you to convert his checking of your breathing to laying on your chest with an arm wound around your waist.

It grows quiet and there's a comfortable atmosphere as you play with his hair while he snoozes on your abdomen.

Maybe you wouldn't mind being sick for a few days if this is the doctor taking care of you.

[keerysfreckles]

falling in — steve harrington

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: when a burnt down mall sends y/n to steve

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, steve got his ass beat (who's surprised), s3 spoilers duh, pure fluff/comfort, blood and injuries mentioned, pretty detailed makeout session

a/n: for my wife @keerysbrowneyes ily

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

y/n sat nervously at the edge of her couch in her small living room. she watched her small flickering tv at the other end of the room with nothing but worry.

helicopters roaring, a blazing fire and multiple reporters surround the loved starcourt mall. y/n's heart almost burst out of her chest when one reporter stated most people made it out safely.

steve harrington was the first person to flood her mind. the girl hasn't heard of him for the past three days, which only made her nerves skyrocket.

"sources say scoops ahoy workers were at the scene, with multiple young kids and parents. . ."

y/n was out the door, struggling to put on her other shoe while running to her car.

—

y/n didn't even let the car come to a complete stop before she was running past concerned townspeople, reporters and cops. she easily slid under the caution tape and fit in between two firetrucks, not bothering to listen to the cops and other authorities yelling for her to stop.

y/n looked from left to right. she first saw nancy and jonathan, and robin sitting in the back of one ambulance. will was with his mother, with el and mike besides them. lucas was comforting max. she looked at the last ambulance and saw steve.

as soon as their eyes met, time slowed. steve dropped the blanket from his shoulders and y/n's worn out converse hit the asphalt again.

steve stood from the ambulance, and for the first time tonight a smile broke out onto his face. he didn't care it was hurting his eye.

his arms are wide open once y/n reaches him. hers instantly wrap around his shoulders as he lifts her off the ground.

"you're okay," y/n lets the tears fall from her eyes, her voice is strained. "you're here, you're really okay."

steve kisses the side of her head before setting her back on the ground, however neither of them let go of each other.

"i thought i lost you," y/n admits.

steve chuckles, "you could never get rid of me that easily."

y/n leans back, her eyes roaming over the boy in front of her. she sees the large bruise surrounding his swollen eye, and the tiny cuts on his lips.

steve copies her actions, not believing the girl in his arms is really here. this feels too much like a dream that he didn't want to wake up from.

y/n puts her hand gently on steve's cheek just as a tear falls from his right eye. his voice is soft and broken, "can you take me home?"

y/n nods immediately, and carefully takes his hand in hers to lead them both to her car. they're stopped briefly by a cop, to which they explain y/n would be taking steve home.

they sit in the car for a moment, while an abba song plays quietly over the radio. y/n leans forward to turn it off. she didn't think steve was in the mood to dance to anything, let alone listen to a happy pop song.

"are you okay?" y/n knew it was a stupid question to ask, but she had to ask anyway.

steve only nods, as he wipes his cheeks as more tears fall. y/n simply gives him her hand. his rough hand holds onto it the whole drive back to y/n's small one bed-one bath house.

"wait, i thought you were taking me home," steve announces once he watches her turn down the wrong street.

"you really think i'd let you stay home alone after whatever you went through?"

steve shrugs.

"how hard did they hit you?" y/n lets out an airy laugh, which steve reciprocates.

y/n looks over to the passenger side after parking on the street in front of her dark red door.

"thank you," steve's voice fills the silence of the car.

the two walk out of the and in the housr wordlessly. they both leave their shoes in a pile by the front door, and steve follows y/n to her room. he sees she left the tv and lights on, guessing she left in a hurry.

"you take a shower okay? then if you want i can help with the other cuts."

steve gratefully accepts y/n's offer. he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding once he sits on the edge of y/n's bed. she comes out of the bathroom after starting the shower, and making sure it wasn't too hot.

steve holds his arms open again, making y/n walk towards him. she stands between his thighs as he rests his head against her chest, hearing the pulse of her heartbeat. the girl leans down to place a kiss on his matted curls.

"i'll be here when you get out," y/n whispers into his hair.

as steve showers, he's careful when he reaches and cuts or bruises, and can't help but let more tears fall. by the end of it he couldn't tell if it was tears or water running down his face.

he's quick to dry off and doesn't mind the water falling back onto his face and neck from his wet hair.

he noticed his dried bloody work uniform was replaced by a pair of sweatpants, a tshirt and boxers. he smiled at the thought of y/n keeping a pair of his clothes here for him.

steve leaves the bathroom and is met with y/n coming back into her room with a small basket in her hands.

"hey," she smiles towards steve, "how are you feeling?"

"that was a must needed shower," he chuckles.

"what's that for?" he points to the wooven basket now placed on the bed.

"a couple things to help with your cuts."

after steve came over to y/n's house their junior year, with the aftermath of a fight with jonathan byers, the girl knew to keep a first aid kit just for steve.

y/n instructs for steve to lay on her bed. he gladly let a loud sigh leaves his lips once his back hits the mattress, making y/n chuckle.

she sits on the left side of steve, making her be in the middle of the bed. she easily leans over him to turn on the lamp placed on the night stand. steve can't help but blush at the close proximity.

"these are just wipes, to get any extra dried blood off," y/n starts walking him through the steps.

she's careful when wiping around the cuts on his lips, and is surprised he only winces once.

she moves to his hairline and bruise covering his eye. the swelling has gone down drastically, and she can now look at both of his beautiful brown eyes.

steve keeps his hands folded on his stomach while y/n takes care of him. she goes to the next step and takes peroxide and cotton balls to the cuts.

after the cotton meets his lips he grabs y/n's wrist. she mutters out many apologies, not meaning to hurt steve more.

"it's okay," he stops her rambling apologies, "just hurts way more than i thought it would."

y/n continues treating his wounds. every so often steve's eyes would float to her features. to her concerned eyes, crinkling at the corners. or to her hair that kept falling over her ear, to which she always put back, yet it never stayed.

y/n finally takes a warm towel, steve guessed was from the dryer, and she dabbed it over his lips and eye. she watched his shoulders relax as she held it over his eye.

"are you alright?" she felt like she asked the question a million times tonight.

steve nods, "never better."

another comfortable silence fills the room. steve now sits up, making y/n bring the towel to her lap. steve breaks the silence.

"did you always have that freckle?" his thumb traces the light freckle on her cheek. she blushes from the contact. before she answers, steve moves his hand to fix the strands of hair that have fallen in front of her ear. his hand goes back to holding her cheek.

y/n's eyes move between both of steve's brown ones.

"steve," y/n warns in a whisper as he starts moving closer to her.

"i want you y/n. thats the one thing i've never been more sure of tonight."

his soft words leave a tickling breath over y/n's lips.

y/n makes the move to lean forward. her right hand reaches to hold onto steve's bicep as her lips collide with his. the kiss only lasts for a few seconds before y/n pulls away. her cheeks are flushed as she sees steve's widened pupils.

steve simply pulls her back to him with the hand that was still on her cheek. he turns his head to deepen the kiss, and he can't help but smile against y/n's lips after feeling her hand move to his neck. she grips the damp hair, threading her fingers through it.

steve's left hand goes to y/n's lower back as he moves her to lay down. he's now hovering over her, with his thighs falling between hers.

the two pull away, both with blown pupils, flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

"do you want me to stay–"

"yes."

steve couldn't even finish his question before y/n answers quickly and pulls him down tp kiss him again, with much more hunger than before.

[wlwprker]

please don’t leave s.r. x gn! reader [1]

a/n: im a sucker for hurt/comfort i fear; wrote this with s3-4 & migraine reid in mind but you can choose whichever one you prefer! (this got super long so i’m going to make this into parts!)

warnings: minimal proofreading, some swearing, brief descriptions of basic criminal minds violence (cases and whatnot), mentions of blood

wc: 1,374

you and the team were tirelessly hunting down an unsub before he hurt any more women. the unsub was going after single women in their mid-30s or 40s who were in higher-stakes jobs such as congresswoman, lawyer, doctor, etc.

the unsub felt these women should stay at home and be housewives instead of being out in authority like jobs. the unsub’s mother was the same way, and he never had a proper childhood. he longed for a better relationship with his mother, so he stripped children’s mothers away from them.

time was running out, and everybody was running on little to no sleep, working on every detail to not miss a single thing. after many hours of looking into every victim, every connection, and every location, you finally found him. everyone raced against the clock, finally got his location, and were able to rescue three girls. you felt a tiny sense of relief at this fact; it helps to know you could still save people.

you knew this unsub’s type, and while you knew that you didn’t meet the criteria, there was no telling what he’d do to get his way.

“stay with me, okay?” spencer ordered in a soft tone. he was just being a good team member, and while you both knew that you could hold your own,.

this killer. he was erratic and aggressive.

you knew that spencer would give you a lecture if he knew that you ignored his orders, but that was the least of your worries.

you rounded a corner with your gun held out in front of you, and you took in every corner on high alert. you peeked inside a room, checking your surroundings before entering. the lights were off, and of course the light switch was not working.

you turned your flashlight on, and you had your back turned for not even half a second.

as soon as you turned around, the unsub attempted to throw you across the room, but you caught his wrist in a forceful grip.

“you don’t need to do this. this ends now," you said in a firm voice, but the unsub did not listen. you tried to get him to back down, but he wasn’t listening. you kept your gun raised, but you could not see where he went.

“you’re not my type, but I’ll take my chances, the unsub said, and you started to turn around, but before you could react, he had raised a crowbar and hit you in the head, and you had collapsed to the floor. you were dizzy, and your vision was blurry as you attempted to stand up.

the sound of a thud had alerted the entire team, and everyone was on extra-high alert, thoroughly checking every corner of the house and looking for the source.

“spencer, where did they go?” emily whispered, noticing they were down an agent. spencer’s heart dropped to the floor; he must have turned around when you slipped away from him.

“son of a bitch! i told them to stay with me,” spencer mumbled to himself.

spencer took a deep breath to calm himself down as the two of them searched the house. spencer froze in place when he walked into a pitch-black room and saw you lying on the floor. he was internally panicking.

“can you hear me?” spencer asked, and you were slipping in and out; everything around you was blurring, and everyone talking to you sounded like they were millions of miles away.

after a while, you could no longer hear or see anything; you were knocked out. spencer took a shaky breath as he placed two fingers on the side of your neck and sighed in relief when he found a pulse.

“we need a medic!” emily yelled into her walkie-talkie. spencer was freaking out, wondering what he could have done to prevent this.

“hey, it’s not your fault; you know that, right?” jj said as she watched spencer internally cursing himself.

“i turned around for barely a second, and they just...” spencer trailed off, and jj led him out of the house as they had successfully located the unsub and arrested him.

after a painful silence, the medics arrived and took you out on a gurney. the side of your head was bleeding, and you were not waking up.

“go, I’ll tell hotch; he’ll understand, emily said as she watched spencer look at you with a pained look on his face. he silently nodded and stayed with the medics as they took you to the hospital.

the ride to the hospital was a deadly silence; he longed for your voice, even one of your silly jokes, anything.

once you got to the hospital, despite his best efforts, spencer was sent to the waiting room. as he waited for the verdict, he was bouncing his knees constantly, his mind racing with millions of possibilities.

he hated waiting. not knowing if you were okay drove him crazy; he wanted to scream.

the doctor came out, and spencer stood up fast. he listened intently, and a sigh of relief washed over him as the doctor told him that you were going to be okay.

“am I able to see them?” spencer asked anxiously, and the doctor nodded. “yes, they need lots of rest, but you can go visit.” the doctor smiled as they walked to your room.

his heart ached when he saw you lying on a bed with a bandage on the side of your head and hooked up to a machine, peacefully sleeping.

he was so glad you’re okay.

spencer took a seat and watched you cautiously; he didn’t want to disturb you.

you slowly opened your eyes, saw spencer, and smiled lightly.

“hey spence, did you guys catch him?” you asked faintly. spencer’s heart twisted in agony at the sound of your voice.

“we did, but you need your rest. i just wanted to see how you were doing.”

you smiled and tried to sit up, but spencer stopped you with a warning look in his eyes.

“don’t move; you need to rest.”

“i’m fine; it was just a scratch.” you attempted to joke, but it came out weakly.

“you got hit in the head with a crowbar, and you passed out—more than scratch there,” spencer said, sighing.

“the doctor said i could go home within the next few days, maybe sooner,” you said, and spencer didn’t respond; he just held your hand with a sad look on his face.

“hey, i’m okay.”

he cut you off with a deep sigh.

“why did you ignore my orders? i told you to stay with me. damn it, why didn’t you stay? i don’t know what I would have done if” spencer trailed off.

“i’m fine, spencer.”

“no, you’re not; you got hurt!” spencer was frustrated. how could you not see this was killing him?

“but I’m here; i’m going to be...”

“stop talking.”

you looked at him strangely, confused as to why he was so on edge.

“spencer, i’m fine; i don’t know what has you so worked up, but...”

“please stop talking,” he said, rubbing his forehead as he finally looked you in the eyes.

“do you know that 258 people in 100,000 enter a coma each year due to acute brain injury?” spencer stated, frustration evident in his voice. you stared at him, confused.

“what does that have to do with anything?"

“you are lucky that you don’t have a brain injury; you could have been at risk of going into a fucking coma for who knows how long! what i’m saying is, i wish you didn’t go off by yourself because i would never forgive myself if i lost you. do you understand me?” spencer said it in a stern voice, which caught you off guard.

“spencer, i can handle myself just fine, and i’m okay, aren’t I?”

spencer shook his head furiously.

“you’re not listening to me.”

the silence filled the room; it was the loudest silence you’ve ever witnessed.

you tried to speak, but spencer just sighed. “you need rest; i’ll come back tomorrow, okay?”

you just nodded, the conversation still on your mind. why was he so upset? you didn’t have the energy to dwell on it.

“spencer,” you called out.

he turned around with a curious look in his eyes.

“can you stay a little longer?” you asked quietly.