#well derek is the only straight part here

[incorrect-ralvez]

Emily: Make her pussy wet not her eyes.

Luke: Make his dick hard not his life.

Derek: Break her bed not her heart.

Tara: Play with her boobs not her feelings.

Spencer: Get on his dick not his nerves.

Garcia: Always salt your pasta while boiling it.

[foxy-eva]

Love Potion

Summary: Spencer learns that alcohol makes his girlfriend very affectionate (and maybe a little too honest) 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: (16+ for sexual content) drinking alcohol (Reader is tipsy), love confession, suggestiveness, heavy kissing, mild embarrassment

Word count: 1.2k

Masterlist

Spencer thought he knew what would be expecting him when he agreed to pick you up from girl's night. He was wrong. 

He should have known by your barely decipherable text message that you might have had a little too much fun tonight. What really gave it away though was your high-pitch scream once you saw your gorgeous boyfriend enter the bar you texted him from earlier. 

"Spencer!!" You yelled while reaching out your arms for him. "I missed you!"

You almost knocked him over once he was within reach which prompted your friends to break out in a fit of laughter. 

"Hi pretty girl," Spencer chuckled. "Having fun?"

You pressed a quick peck on his lips and giggled, "Yeah, now that you're here!" 

"I thought you wanted me to drive you home?" 

"Exactly," you agreed. "That's where the fun part starts."

A very obvious rosy shade spread over Spencer's cheeks while your all female audience began making raunchy comments. Before you had a chance to explain to them in detail what you wanted to happen once you got home, your boyfriend was quick to place his arm around your waist to lead you to his car. 

"You're so beautiful, do you know that?" You slurred while Spencer made sure you were buckled up in the passenger seat. 

"You tell me quite frequently, actually."

"Because it's true! Derek is so right for calling you pretty boy. You're the prettiest of aaall the boys in the world." 

Spencer smiled at you before he started the car. "Yeah? Well, just for the record, I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

His words made you needy for more than just sweet talk. 

“Take me home before I start taking my clothes off right here,” you cooed. 

Spencer took his eyes off the road to look at you for a moment. A not-so-innocent smirk was spread over your cheeks and you noticed the rosy color on his face turning a shade darker. 

“You're going to be the end of me,” Spencer groaned.

A few suggestive comments from you later your flustered boyfriend turned into the parking lot at your apartment. You were barely inside your apartment when you swung your arms around his neck to find his mouth in a hasty kiss. Both of you almost tumbled over but Spencer managed to keep you upright with his arms around your waist. 

The taste of ethanol on your tongue was almost as intoxicating as your actions and Spencer had trouble not to give into your pleas right then and there in your hallway. It was obvious that he tried to hold back but his body gave away how much he enjoyed your enthusiasm.  

“Slow down,” he breathed against your lips, “You’re drunk.” 

“I’m just a little tipsy,” you reassured him as you pressed your body against his. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Spencer answered you with some curse words that you had never heard from him before. The pace of your actions were too much for him to grasp and suddenly he wasn’t sure if you were the only inebriated one there. Like a besotted fool he followed you to the couch where you climbed into his lap like a queen sitting down on a throne. 

“What are you doing to me?” He purred as you kissed down his neck.

“You’re smart, I’m sure you can figure it out,” you snickered before biting down on his pulse point. 

You felt his throat vibrate against your lips as a deep groan fell from his mouth. It wasn’t the first time you got to experience him that way but you were aware that the alcohol in your bloodstream made you more affectionate than usual. 

It also made your tongue loose but you realized that too late. 

“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered when your lips brushed over his ear. 

“Wh… What?”

His response wasn’t what you expected. You sat up straight to be able to look into his eyes. The gold of his irises radiated a warmth unlike anything you had ever experienced. It took you a moment to find your words again. 

“I know we’ve only been dating for a few weeks and that I haven’t said it before, but it’s true!” You began rambling in a way you usually expected from Spencer. Your lips found his in another, more chaste kiss before you repeated, “I love you.” 

It was as if Spencer had forgotten how to form words. He just stared at you with wide eyes and the sweetest smile forming on his face. 

After a few moments of silence you wondered, “Are you not gonna say it?” 

He shook his head. “I’ll tell you when I can be sure you’ll remember it the next morning.” 

That was enough for you for now. You got up from your boyfriend’s lap to lead him into your bedroom. He followed without hesitation, already suspecting that whatever you had in mind wouldn’t actually be happening. 

And he was right. The moment you lay down in your bed with Spencer’s arms securely wrapped around you, you dozed off. He gently kissed your cheek before placing the blanket over your body. 

“Goodnight, sleepy girl.”

When you woke up the next morning it took just a few seconds for you to realize that you had enough alcohol to spill the truth but not enough to forget about it. It didn’t surprise you that you didn’t find Spencer sleeping beside you, certain that you must have scared him off after your cocktails had somehow turned into love potions. 

The morning shower helped to clear your head but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. The longer you thought about it, the more embarrassed you got about not keeping your mouth in control after just a little bit of liquid courage. 

It took you by surprise to find your boyfriend sitting on your couch when you stumbled out of the bedroom. 

“You’re still here!” You squeaked and he began chuckling. 

“Where else would I be?” 

You sat down beside him and took the coffee mug out of his hand to take a sip. 

He leaned towards you to place a soft kiss on your cheek. “How are you feeling?”

You felt your face heat up when you thought about what you said last night. “Mortified.”

The amusement in his voice wasn’t lost on you when he nonchalantly asked, “And why is that?” 

You placed the coffee mug on the table to bury your face in your hands, whining, “You know why!”

Spencer placed his hands on yours to move them away from your face while he chuckled, “Oh you mean the fact that you told me you’re hopelessly in love with me?” 

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t use those exact words!”

He kept teasing you as he pulled you into his arms, “Are you questioning my eidetic memory?”

“If your memory is so perfect, you should remember what you told me then,” you reminded him before his mouth met yours. 

“I do remember,” he mumbled against your lips. 

“Yeah?” You breathed between kisses. 

He pulled back to lock eyes with you. His hand gently brushed over your cheek before he finally whispered, “I love you, too.” 

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories!

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @melifluorei-d @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @castiels-majestic-wings @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @purpledsky @super-nerd22

[0mg-bird]

Bombshell of the BAU

Early season Spencer Reid x Fem! Agent! Reader

Summary: New to the team, the others can’t help but be drawn to you…well, not in the way Spencer Reid is.

Warnings: heavy flirting, 18+ content, smut, fem receiving oral sex, teasing, mentions of guns.

Part two is on my page but link doesn’t work to get to it

The only reason why the BAU works so well at their job is because of the simple fact that not one member is alike. Their differences are advantages, all different mindsets that help work cases.

Spencer knows that his team isn’t alike…

But no one is quite like you.

He’s no stranger to strong woman agents, he seen that spark in Elle, in JJ, he’s come to see it in Emily, but here you were with more than a spark. You had a flame, compared to the other women.

Crushes are so high school, so he’s not going to label this fascination as that. Maybe he was slowly losing his mind? He knew it would happen eventually, but he hadn’t expected his decay to be at the perfectly manicured hands of a new agent that transferred from another branch of the bureau.

Hotch told his agents not to ask too many questions because you weren’t supposed to disclose too much information about where exactly you came from. In that, he set you up for allegations.

Morgan was the most creative, he came to a conclusion that you came straight from the White House, that you were a right hand man for the secret service and were in Witsec for awhile because of it. Emily made a joke that maybe you were a Russian spy and he took it literally, vowed to never fully trust you.

That was before he officially met you.

One bat of your eyelashes and a cunning smile tossed his way, he practically laid down and rolled over like a dog.

The team had similar reactions, and that’s because you were so enticing, so genuine, so easy to jive with. And you did your job well, really well.

You looked good doing it too.

That’s a thought Spencer kept to himself. To him, you had everyone reminding you of that fact, so why should he be one more person?

Really, you scared him, so he thought that if he just kept his distance, you wouldn’t eat him alive.

He might enjoy that, though.

While he was busy creating a bubble of friendly distance, you were busy placing yourself inside said bubble.

Now, Morgan was fun. He matched your flirtatious energy, he always had a come back because he was just that kind of guy. Nights out at bars with the team, he was fun to dance with, he was easy to be so fluid with because he knew this whole attitude of yours didn’t mean anything.

Derek Morgan was great.

But Spencer Reid? In your eyes, he was perfect.

You can’t necessarily put your finger on it, maybe it was just everything he put off. He was dorky and sweet and funny, he was a bashful kind of handsome. The best part of him being gorgeous was the fact he didn’t have a clue. All these guys have egos that ruin it, but not your Reid. No, he just spews facts like he’s a fucking search engine and it could practically be used as foreplay.

Maybe it’s a flaw, because he looks at you with those brown eyes and it’s like your hard attitude crumbles. Call it some corruption kink, but the way he quickly looks away when you catch him looking, or how he gains a stutter and goes red when you give him your attention, it makes you want to paint a permanent smile on your face.

No, it’s not a kink, you don’t want to ruin him. You want him to stay this perfect. You’d never do anything he wasn’t okay with, if he told you that your flirting made him uncomfortable, you’d probably stop speaking entirely.

Your whole persona would be compromised if anyone knew of this submission.

And the great thing about this whole situation was that Spencer wouldn’t say one single word you didn’t like. Mostly because he didn’t say many words you wanted him to say, but after a few months of this cat and mouse game, he’s getting better at it.

You selfishly think it’s all because you’re skillfully crafting him, making improvements to his perfectness.

Spencer sits down at his desk with his coffee mug, and waits.

You always arrive eleven minutes after the last team member does, which usually is Morgan, who thought he’d forever hold the title of fashionably late. Spencer doesn’t even have to watch the door, he knows the signs when you’ve entered the bullpen.

Heads turn, murmurs follow. He can hear the click of whatever form of heels you have on, and when you enter his atmosphere, his senses are filled with you. The perfume you wear is expensive and distinctive.

Yves Saint Laurent, he’s come to know.

“Good morning, handsome.”

Ah, there you are.

He looks over at you with a smile, watching as you set your purse and go bag down and then come to lean against his desk. He hands you your mug of coffee he took the liberty of making, and you gasp in delight.

“You’re too good to me, Spencey.” You declare, making him scrunch his nose at the silly nickname you insist on using.

You take a drink, then set it back down. He looks at the print of your lipstick on the mug, then down at your heels. His eyes gracefully float up your legs, taking note of your smooth stockings that disappear under your appropriate skirt length, then up to your blouse and shoulder holster where your gun resides. Finally, he meets your face, enticing eyes, thick lashes, a gleam in your smile.

“I like when you wear blue.” You playfully hum, brushing your hand over his shoulder, feeling the material of his shirt.

His heart beats wonky.

He’s come to learn that you have this OCD tic of sorts, it’s a habit he’s noticed. You make sure that things are prim and proper. You’re the first to fix Emily’s hair, you clean up the edges of JJ’s lipgloss if it gets messy. You sweep dust or lint off the back of Morgan’s shirts and you have to fight the urge to fix Hotch’s cufflinks because he hates being prodded at. You might come off as vain, the way you check your appearance when others don’t, but in all actuality, it’s just to soothe nerves.

Reid’s guess is you had a mother who was adamant about things being proper.

Whatever it may be, he can tell it irritates you when you can’t control the urge. It’s a bad thing to have when you look at crime scenes every day and can’t clean things up or make things perfect.

It has to be stressful, and that’s why it does not bother him when you poke and prod and adjust him. You adjust his glasses, then ask him if his contacts got messed up again. You place his hair perfectly, in a way that always makes him look the best, then nudge your finger under his chin and decide your work is done.

Often times he goes into a spiral, wondering why him. You have all these guys who’d become fools for you, why must he? He always comes to the same conclusion. You aren’t forcing him to do anything, but it’s your fault. You give him the attention he can’t admit he’s craved, you have a big heart that you don’t like others to see right away, you have a beautiful mind that others don’t appreciate. They see a pretty face and a great body and fail to appreciate your knowledge, and Spencer thinks that’s a shame.

It’s your fault that you’re this great and he could probably just lay down and let you walk right over him.

He’s dealing with these confusing feelings while you go and have every man in the bullpen wrapped around your finger. Everyone knows the rule, bureau members aren’t supposed to have romantic relations with each other, but he’s constantly trying to find loopholes like he has the guts to confess to you.

He can’t do that, so he settles for being the subject to your witty remarks.

In the round table room, JJ briefs the team on the reason why they are heading to L.A.

You sit with your legs crossed, scanning the case file. The Unsub was particularly brutal, they alway are, but the murder of three teenagers? And one that’s still missing?

It’s brutal.

It makes you rethink your choice wording when you go to claim the jet ride as such.

You sit at the window section , across from Spencer, leaning onto the table where he plays cards by himself. Propped up by your elbows, you lazily watch him as your source of entertainment.

He knows you’re staring.

Of course he does, he could be in a room full of people and find your gaze in a single second. Though he plays it cool, he has a sort of twitch about him. Often times he feels as if he’s being dissected under your careful eye, not saying you do it on purpose, but it’s how he imagines prey feels when it’s being stalked.

No, that’s too harsh of a comparison.

You’re not looking to maim, you’re just…memorizing his outline.

A perfectly normal thing to do with colleagues.

He flicks his eyes up from the cards in hand, catching you.

“Can I help you with something?” He asks, brows lifted but without amusement.

You smirk. “You could help me with a lot of things, baby.”

Logically, his mind tells him that you’re just being your teasing self, playing the Morgan and Garcia game.

Emotionally? He’s internally groaning at how much he likes you saying those things.

That pout on your lips doesn’t help, his mind is filled with visions of touching you softly.

“I’m bored, Reid.” You practically whine.

He simply deals you cards without another word.

There was often duos in the team. Morgan and Garcia, Hotch and Rossi, Prentiss and JJ.

And you and Reid.

It was satisfying in that way, knowing you weren’t an outsider to the team anymore because you had your lover boy, your crime fighting partner. And in that, Spencer and you had a dynamic that sometimes didn’t need many words.

You waist time playing go fish and other childish things, then when the boredom strikes again, you throw the cards down and huff.

“What now?”

Angel. Is what he wants to add to the end of that question.

“You’re doing a pretty bad job at entertaining me.” You declare, tracing shapes onto the table top with your nail.

“Didn’t realize that was in my job description now.” He laughs, which makes you grin.

Because when Spencer’s happy, you’re elated. Odd, how it works that way.

“Should’ve read the fine print, stud.” You banter, squinting your eyes before smirking and pulling a piece of gum out from your purse.

You offer some to the man who’s trying not to focus on the way you chew slowly. Truly, he isn’t bored, how could he be bored when he has the view of you in front of him.

Fluffing your hand through the roots of your hair, he starts speaking off facts like he normally does when he finds a connection.

“Did you know that the topic of oral fixation is a popular discussion point in the psychology community? There has never been a percentage done of how many adults have an oral fixation, but it’s not something that you normally come by. Actually, it starts as a child, during the months when your mouth is your stimulant. It’s how you get nutrients, it’s your first tool, so if you’re not given that stimulation you need, the somewhat teething behavior lingers in your adult years.” He explains dutifully like you asked about it, and normally he wouldn’t get this far in a one sided discussion because someone would always stop him.

Not you, you love when he “talks dirty” to you, as you call it.

Chewing your gum, you hum, slipping your finger over the surface of the table and onto his hand, continuing to draw you invisible shapes.

“So you don’t want a stick of gum?” You ask, though he doesn’t answer, just continues to go the long way around a point he’s trying to make.

“Usually it’s more serious, but it often can appear in moments of boredom or nervousness. You chew gum when there’s nothing else to do because it’s an action that makes you focus on something. You have a fresh manicure, but you usually toy with your fingers in your mouth when you do paper work, you suck on pen caps because it’s comforting. That shows that during your infant months, you probably weren’t given the proper care, a formula baby who probably was weaned off pacifiers too early-”

He’s borderline insulting your mother right now but that ‘matter of fact’ crease between his brows is so cute, he talks with his hands often, so you opt to follow his free hand with your eyes.

You sigh contently, not feeling immense boredom any longer.

“Spence, if you wanted to tell me you often look at my mouth, you could’ve just said it.” You say with a joking behavior, making the team mates that were paying attention to the two of you, laugh.

Spencer blushes, immediately fumbling his words, claiming that’s not what he meant at all.

~~

There’s an assurance that you have to have an ugly personality just because you’re pretty gorgeous.

But Spencer wants to declare it’s wrong. You’re insanely kind to every kid you talk to on the case, you listen and reassure them of their safety, that you were here to help stop the one who was doing this.

At the end of the long, hot, day, you sit in the passenger seat of the SUV as Spencer drives to the hotel. Everyone could take a deep breath now that the missing girl was found safe and the UnSub is now in custody.

“That last girl we talked to had a crush on you.” You say to him with a pouted lip of cuteness. “I miss being fourteen and being in love with guys who are too old for me.”

Spencer looks over at you, relaxed against the seat with the first couple buttons of your blouse undone, and he chuckles.

“I don’t really feel comfortable knowing I only attract minors.” He says, looking back to the road so he doesn’t crash from staring at your side profile for too long.

“Oh come on, you don’t just attract teenagers.” You scoff, reaching over and squeezing his bicep.

Goosebumps cover his skin.

He shoots you a look as if to say ‘I don’t believe you’, and you shoot him one that says ‘we’ve been over this’. You have had this conversation about him being a total catch before, of course, but you’re happy to do it again.

“You’re very smart, baby, but you’re so so ignorant sometimes. It’s like you’re blind to women looking at you with desire.” You state, adjusting the hem of your skirt as you push your legs further open in a more relaxed position.

“No, I think you just think everyone looks and everyone with desire because it’s a look you’re used to.” He speaks, focusing on your stockings for a moment.

Usually you have to keep your suggestive comments to a minimum because others are around, but now it’s just the two of you. You could say whatever you wanted.

“Someone besides me needs to let you know that you can easily make a woman hot, I think that’s what is going to ease you.”

He almost swerves the car off the road at the way your words register in his mind.

“You get… flustered?” He questions meekly, testing the waters that are getting impossibly deep.

“Of course I do, are you kidding?” You laugh, staring at nothing but him. “You show up looking so good all the time, saying all this smart stuff, always proving how good you are to me. It makes me have to remind myself that HR would have my ass if I proved you have a swooning effect on me.”

His heart beats in his ears, his nose pink.

He wades deeper into the inappropriate water.

“HR, huh? Sounds like that’s some serious violations you think about.”

It’s not supposed to be that dirty, but to you? It sets you over the moon.

“Oh trust me, handsome, the things I think about probably shouldn’t leave my mind, even if I want them to.”

There.

That was a real statement, not just a joke. Right?

It’s finally registering in his mind. Before, he played it all of as you just being funny, that you flirt with everyone because it’s like your form of communication and you’re friendly, that you say these things without meaning and his feelings are one sided. You choose words carefully and it’s not so scary or real to him.

But you just flipped the script.

‘Even if I want them to.’ You had said.

Over and over, your voice echoes in his head. He sits on the hotel room bed and it consumes him.

It’s dark outside, he should be in bed. He’s showered, he’s dressed and ready for sleep and it doesn’t come.

He has to ask, he has to hear you debunk his assumptions that you meant more than you did.

To hell with what the clock says, he swiftly leaves his room, trailing down the second story balcony, past room doors. The air is cool against his skin as he remembers your room number. All the team’s rooms were scattered and he’d hate to come knocking on Morgan’s room instead.

With adrenaline, he knocks on your door and waits, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. He’s brave, that’s what he tells himself. He could leave, feeling totally embarrassed and pathetic but what’s new?

You open the door and the air leaves his lungs.

Clearly, you were in the middle of unwinding.

And undressing.

Lingerie hidden under the robe you hold closed, you look up at Spencer with concern at his frantic face.

“Spence, everything alright?” That silky voice asks with care and concern.

He can’t.

He can’t do it anymore.

“What did you mean, before?”

“What?” You ponder, a breeze catching you, making you pull the robe closer.

“You said that your thoughts shouldn’t leave your mind, even if you want them too. Is that you just toying with me? The lines are getting a little blurred now.” He doesn’t hear the way he sounds, so desperate.

But you do, and it makes your heart ache. You look into his needy brown eyes and know he’s finally doing something about this sexual tension you know he’s been dealing with, that both of you have been dealing with.

Without a word, you let the robe fall open, exposing a vast more amount of skin Spencer hasn’t seen from you before.

“There’s never been lines to blur, Spencer, it’s just been me and you.” You say softly.

His mouth goes dry and he can’t speak. You watch his eyes drift down your lace covered chest, down your stomach and over your panties, all the way to the second gun you always carry, strapped to your thigh, just above the lace top of your nylon thigh high.

He could drop to his knees for you, hold the backs of your soft thighs and press his head to your stomach, declaring he’ll be whatever you want him to be.

“I don’t…I…” He stammers, looking deep into your honest eyes.

“This isn’t a ploy.” You state.

You can see the moment he decides he wants to risk it all. With a large step forward, his cradling your jaw between his large hands and brushing his lips to yours. Welcoming it with a satisfied sigh, you walk him back into the room. He manages to slam the door shut, pulling back hesitantly as you drop the robe.

“This means you like me, right?” He clarifies. “I’m just…making sure.”

You bite your lower lip to suppress a laugh. “Yeah, Spence, this means I like you. I’ve always liked you.”

“Good.” He breathes, bringing you closer once more.

All those times you wondered, you know now that Spencer is so deep with his actions, even if he is uncertain. He’s gentle, but you grip his sweatshirt in your hands and deepen the kiss, showing that you’re sure about this. The moment your tongue slips between his lips, he’s lost all calm.

This can’t be happening, but it is and his heart is pounding.

Stumbling towards your bed, you blindly feel for the edge of the mattress so you can sit. He looks down at you, face red and sweat pants growing a little tight suddenly.

“We don’t have to do anything.” You say so kindly, smiling to ease him.

“I want…no, I want this.” He says. “I’ve wanted this for so long, please.”

You shift your thighs together.

“You don’t have to beg, I’ll let you.” You promise.

A little awkward, he nods, sitting beside you. His finger tips glide down your thigh, unstrapping the holster and walking it to the table.

“We should probably get rid of the firearm before anything bad happens.” He laughs, making you chuckle.

Pushing yourself further up the bed, you motion him to follow. The thing you’re learning with Spencer is if you give him an inch, he’ll take a mile and you love it. He’s kissing you with more hunger now, running his hand down to one of your stockings before slowly pulling it down your leg.

“Is this okay?” He asks.

You nod with a smile. “You don’t have to ask before touching me, I want you to.”

It’s better than Christmas day.

He leans back as he pulls the nylon off your left leg, then turns and does the other, leaving a small kiss to your knee in the process.

It’s slow, the way he lays between your legs, how you make out sensually, how you’re running your hands through his hair and the noise he makes when you let his hands wander.

He wants to be able to memorize you, every curve and shape that you are.

He wants to burry his head between your thighs and you might just let him.

“Baby, wait.” You tell him as he takes his glasses off and sets them on the nightstand. “It’s a lot, you really don’t need to.” You say.

“I want to.” He says as he sucks at your neck.

“Have you ever done it before?” You question, knowing it’s not necessarily something for beginners.

“I’ve read a lot of things.” He tells you genuinely.

He researched oral sex.

You gasp lightly. “Do you know how hot that is?”

He grins bashfully.

You don’t have high hopes, but if he wants something, how can you tell him no? So you coach him at first, thinking you’ll be of help.

Your words die quickly as his tongue is on you.

Spencer Reid, your nerdy coworker, your sweet, awkward boy, is eating you out better than anyone ever has. He does it like he’s been doing it for years, like he knows your body. He is liked a starved man.

Chest arched off the bed, your head falls back, hand in his hair, holding him there as you shudder and curse out.

“Fuck, Spence, oh fuck.” You sob out, struggling to not close your thighs around his head.

He’s having the time of his life.

All of those times he’s imagined it, it’s way better, you sound so much better, taste so good.

It hasn’t even been that long and you’re shaking, hips thrusting up against his face. You gaze down at him, how he flicks his eyes up at you, how he smiles.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum, oh shit.” You whine out, trying to hold onto reality while the burn in your stomach gets hotter.

Toes curling, you can’t control the moans coming from your throat. It makes a delightful sound mixed with your heavy breathing, Spencer wants to hear it for the rest of his life.

It’s safe to say this is his new favorite thing to do in the entire world.

As you mentally float into outer space, your heavy limbs drop and for a moment you’re convinced you’ve left your body. It takes a good solid minute for you to come back and remember how to breathe properly.

A sharp whimper leaves you from the sheer sensitivity you have, that’s when you have to pull Spencer away before he pushes you through a second orgasm that would have had you blacking out.

He looks so appealing, hair tousled, lips wet from your slick, and he gives you a drunk and goofy grin, all you can think is ‘I’m going to eat him.’

“C-come here.” You say with a hoarse voice, pulling him up to you.

You taste yourself on his tongue, kissing him with gratitude and affection.

“Was that okay?” He questions, wiping the remaining mess off his face.

“Okay?” You question. “That was amazing, Spence, like really amazing.”

Rubbing his cheek, you go to let your hand travel down his chest and torso.

“Do you want me to make you feel good too?”

He looks away for a moment, awkwardly chuckling before looking back to you.

“I, um, no. I already…I’m good.”

It takes a second for you to put together what he’s trying to say, but when you do, your eyes widen.

“You’re the perfect man.” You claim.

He likes that thought. After getting cleaned up and lying with you, he likes the idea that to you, he’s more than enough.

He has something now that’s just his. You both agree that the team won’t need to know about this dynamic you share, it’s a secret he likes knowing he has.

His fingers trail up and down your arm as you relax into his chest.

“Were you a spy before you came to the BAU?” He asks into the quietness.

You can’t help but chuckle. “I was an intelligence agent, working in hand with members of the CIA, representing my branch of the bureau.” You explain so casually.

Spencer nods. “…So, a spy?”

Kissing his jaw, you nod. “Yeah, handsome, whatever you say.”

[miley1442111]

the picture- a.hotchner

----------------------

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summary: a late night issue turns into something very nice when your boss that supposedly hates you decides to come clean.

pairing: grumpy! aaron hotchner x sunshine! reader

warnings: none

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Aaron Hotchner hated you, that was one thing you were sure of. From the morning when you would give him a small wave from your desk, one that he would never be caught dead responding to. To the evenings, when he walked straight by your desk as you wished him a good night, again, something he would never respond to. 

He hated you, and you were ok with that. 

----------------------

Aaron Hotchner was in love with you, that was one thing he was sure of. From your kind gestures in the mornings and evenings, to the small things you did to brighten his days. The way you smiled at every small joke Spencer made, how you geeked out with Penelope over totally niche things, how you always seemed to outrun or outperform Derek at the gym- and subsequently tease him for it all week, how you would trade recipes with David, how you shared a love of cats with Emily- always sending photos back and forth of your cats, and how you were always there for Jj when she needed a babysitter, a friend, or just someone to talk to. And… how you didn’t mind how awfully rude he was to you. 

He loved you, and he was not ok with that. 

----------------------

“Hotch, have you seen the picture that was on my desk? It’s a small gold frame with just a photo of me and an older woman outside the bullpen from when I first started working here?” you asked, popping your head in from outside his office.

“Y/l/n, what have I said about knocking?” He groaned, irritation flowing through him.

“Aaron, it’s 9:43pm, you’re not exactly on a work call, nor a personal one, and you’re clearly packing up. Please just answer my question.”

You’d never been so direct with Aaron. He’d never seen you get even slightly ill-tempered with anyone, let alone the slight curb of annoyance in your voice. 

“No, I haven’t, sorry.” LIE. Aaron knew exactly where that picture was. It sat in the locked drawer of his desk, underneath some files of paperwork that were really just blank. Penelope had found it, and handed it off to him to put back on your desk because she had to run off. Aaron obviously didn’t put it on your desk, since it had stayed in his desk drawer for the past three days. “Maybe if you tidied your desk up, it would be easier to look?”

One thing Aaron didn’t love about you, was your habit of not keeping your desk very tidy. There were files stacked on top of more files, bright stationary and colourful trinkets Penelope had given you, as well as one small teddy bear you’d won at a carnival with Henry when you’d babysat him a few months ago. It drove him mad to see your desk get progressively worse, have Spencer help you clean it (for the most part, he was just jealous of the fun that he saw you and Spencer having when you cleaned, he wished it was him- even if his conscience wouldn’t let him admit it), then watching the mess pile up again. 

You gave him a curt nod and left his office without another word, another oddity. Aaron tried to do his paperwork, but ended up watching from his window as you cleaned your desk for a whole 45 minutes, only to not find the picture. 

Then he watched as tears welled up in your eyes and his heart broke. Why was this picture so important? 

He pulled it out from his desk drawer and looked at it. The older woman and you looked eerily similar, and you’d taken personal leave for an entire week to go somewhere, somewhere you didn’t explain to everyone. You’ve seemed more distant, and a little less happy in recent weeks, and you've been texting and calling your sister back home a lot more often. 

It clicked and he knew he had to come clean. 

----------------------

He walked out of his office and stopped at your desk, putting a hand on your shoulder. You shuddered away, wiping your tears away, then looked up to see the picture. Your frown was replaced by a bright smile, your arms wrapping around his neck in a comforting hug. 

“Thank you so much for finding it,” you smiled. “Thank you Aaron.”

Aaron’s brain was short-circuiting. Here you were, hugging him. His chest was against yours, his hands were on your waist, your arms were around his neck. His face slotted perfectly into the crook of your neck, where he could smell your sweet perfume. God, he loved your perfume. 

“Thank you so much,” you beamed, pulling away. Aaron just nodded with an open-mouth, still slightly in shock. “You seriously don’t know how much this means to me.”

“I’m glad I could help,” he smiled politely, but couldn’t seem to pull himself away from your eyes. You were magnetic. Your beautiful face, your friendly demeanour, your gorgeous smile. Why was he denying himself the one thing he wanted? Why was he denying himself the pleasure of your company? 

“Is everything alright?” you asked, noticing how the tension changed from your regular flat and slightly annoyed exterior, and changed to be something more… intimate. You suddenly realised how close he was standing, how you could feel his breath on your face, how the small freckles on his handsome face made constellations only you could see. 

“Y/n…” he spoke, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

“Aaron…” you responded, unable to look away from him. 

Suddenly there was no gap between the two of you. Aaron’s hands had grabbed your waist and pulled you into him, kissing you passionately. 

God, you loved kissing him. He loved kissing you. Win-win. 

You pulled back, confusion and adrenaline running through your mind as you stared at him. You just kissed your boss- actually; your boss just kissed you.

“I’m so sorry that was-” He started but you cut him off. 

“I thought you hated me.”

Aaron wracked his brain and yes, all the evidence was there. But how could you not see the hidden meanings, the secret things he did for you, the way he looked at you? Did you seriously think you just happen to get the window seat in the jet that also reclines, even though it’s Jj’s favourite spot? I don’t think so…

“I’m in love with you,” he said, breathless from the kiss. “Sorry I ever made you feel differently.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?!” you squeaked.

“Do you actually want me to say it again or-?” 

“You’re in love with me?” You started pacing the floor, head in your hands as you attempted to process the insane revelation Aaron had decided to drop on a Tuesday night. “But you-you hate me! Everyday I wave-” “A wave I want to return-” “Every night I say ‘good night’,” “I know I ignore it and I’m sorry-” “when I came to you with a complaint you brushed it off-” “not liking someone’s attitude is not a grounds for dismissal, as much as I wish it was-” “You tried to get me fired!”

“No I didn’t?” He sighed, exasperated. “How could I see your beautiful face everyday if I got you fired?”

You stared at him. “Fair,” you shrugged. 

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. 

“This is the part when you ask me out,” you whispered, a flirty smile on your face. Aaron’s cheeks blushed and it took him a few seconds to collect himself. 

“Yes! Umm, Y/n, will- can I take you to dinner?” He asked, and you nodded. 

“Sounds like a plan,” you smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “See you tomorrow, Hotchner.”

Aaron watched as you left the bullpen, a bright smile on your face, very much looking forward to your first date. 

----------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[astrophileous]

fem!reader x derek morgan, where they're like really flirty and i mean like kissing, holding hands, reader sits on his lap.

and after a case hotch is like yelling at derek because they had a disagreement, and reader comes in and was like "stop yelling at my best friend!" and he freezes because he genuinely thought that they were dating.

and they get teased n shit, and later reader cant sleep so derek is playing with her hair and he mumbles "i love you." and she says it back, and her words are slurred because shes so tired.

ty for the request honey!! I changed a few details abt it, I hope that's okay?? The main gist is still the same tho so I hope you like this ❤️

Warning(s): fem!reader, profanities, angst a lil bit bcs Derek is having inner turmoil, mutual pining (they're both idiots)

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"It wasn't his fault."

Your voice cut through the silence as an unforeseen rapier. Every pair of eyes in the station fell on you in instinct. You despised the attention with every fiber of your being, but in that moment, there was nothing you wouldn't do to save Derek from being appointed as the fall guy, including offering yourself up as a temporary human spectacle as you stepped forward to where the three men were huddled up.

"Agent (Y/L/N)," Hotch warned in his familiar commanding lull.

"Sweet girl," Derek's voice came a little quieter, "what are you doing?"

You ignored your two fellow teammates as you faced the tall man between them. "I'm sorry, Sheriff. We never intended to overstep your authority. We didn't know the witness was one of our UnSubs when we visited his house. Agent Morgan was only acting in favor of my safety, so really, if there's anyone you should be mad at, it should be me."

The sheriff assessed you with rancorous eyes before turning back towards Hotch. "Get your team under control, Agent. Remember that y'all are a guest here."

With that last message, the sheriff walked away and disappeared into his office. Hotch turned to you and Derek following the sheriff's departure. "We'll talk about this later."

Once Hotch was out of earshot, Derek pulled you towards him. The rest of the station had already returned towards their previous tasks, safe for several pairs of eyes belonging to your other team members who seemed too eager to catch a snippet of your conversation with Derek. Before you could reprimand them, Derek's voice suddenly erupted, "What the hell are you doing?"

You turned your head and frowned. "What?"

"Why did you say all of that stuff to the sheriff, sweetheart?"

"Because it's the truth? You did make that call because you were protecting me, right?"

"I did, but you still didn't need to do any of that. I can take care of it myself."

"Derek—" you sighed, plopping your hand right on top of his shoulder, "—I know you can take care of pretty much everything by yourself, but I don't want you cleaning up my mess just for the sake of our relationship. Let me handle it on my own, okay?"

A hot remark was ready on the tip of Derek's tongue, but the words were soon forgotten when he heard the single word that cut off the circulation completely from his brain. Dumbfoundedly, he stared at you as he said, "Relationship?"

"Well, yeah." You smiled, dragging your hand upward from his shoulder until you were cupping his cheek. "You're my best friend, Derek."

Just as fast as you had flown him to the clouds, you sent Derek plummeting straight towards the ground where he imploded into pieces. The man could barely register the feeling of your lips on his other cheek before he watched you stride away, leaving him standing in the middle of the station like a deer caught in headlights.

"You're my best friend, Derek," Emily teased from where she was standing a few feet away. Behind her, JJ and Spencer were laughing along. "Seriously, why don't you two just make it official already?"

Derek flipped the three of them off, earning another series of laughter from his coworkers before he walked off towards the direction of the pantry. In the back of his head, Emily's question lingered like a shallow wind.

Seriously, why don't you two just make it official already?

Maybe because Derek thought you were official.

But apparently, according to you, you weren't.

So what the hell did that kiss that the two of you shared at the end of your last movie night even mean?

For the rest of the team's stay in Pasco, Florida, the ambiguous status of your relationship became a permanent fixture in Derek's mind. It haunted him even after he boarded the BAU's jet, preparing for the flight back home towards Quantico, Virginia. He was too lost in his own world that he didn't realize you had been calling out his name until your hand touched his cheek.

"Hey, you okay?" you asked worriedly.

Derek was sitting on the long sofa at the end of the cabin; and you, as always, were lying on the same sofa with your head resting on his lap. He still remembered the first time the two of you assumed this habit on the jet, receiving cheeky glances and playful jabs from the rest of the team in the aftermath. The teasing had dwindled significantly by now. Everyone was so used to the sight that it didn't warrant a surprised reaction anymore.

Derek, on the other hand, didn't think he could get accustomed to this.

As he stared down towards your inquisitive eyes, Derek realized that the sight of your face still took his breath away as much as it did the first time he laid eyes upon you. He brought down a finger and ran them up and down your cheek, his heart inflating when you rewarded him with a gleaming smile.

"Wanna come over tonight? We didn't finish that movie last week," you offered.

At the mention of your last movie night, Derek's mind traveled back to the memory of your kiss. It was nothing grand, just a five-seconds heaven where Derek's tongue had tasted remnants of the wine you shared and a little something else that he was sure had uniquely belonged to you. He sealed it with another peck on your forehead after that, wishing you a good night rest and a fantastic dream as he left the comfort of your apartment.

Derek couldn't sleep that night. After all, that was the best kiss the man had ever had in his entire life; but it looked like you hadn't felt the same way as him about it at all.

This knowledge was a stake right through Derek's heart. Everything tasted bitter as he swallowed, and perhaps that was reason enough to why the next words tumbled out of his lips in a reply, "Sorry, sweet girl. I've got errands to run. Next time?"

Derek pretended not to see the way your face collapsed in disappointment at his answer.

Back at his own apartment, Derek proceeded to spend a whole hour flipping through TV channels until his hand was numb. Many of his nights lately were spent in your company, and as the surrounding solitude closed in on him, Derek realized that he didn't remember how to spend nights by himself anymore. He was absentmindedly changing the channel yet again when his finger suddenly stopped frozen on the remote.

Your favorite movie was showing on the TV screen.

Perhaps it was ludicrous to claim that seeing the movie he had always associated with you appear on his TV was a celestial omen, but Derek deemed it an enough sign for him to get his ass off the couch and drove all the way down to your apartment. He stood in front of your door not even twenty minutes later, having sped through traffic as if he were invincible to every threat on the roads. You opened the door for him on the third knock, your eyes blown so widely out of proportion when you spotted him standing on your doorway.

"Derek? What are you doing here?"

"Sweet girl, are you... have you been crying?"

"No."

"Don't lie to me." Derek took two steps forward, closing the front door behind him as he was finally standing inside your apartment. "What's going on, sweetheart?"

His question managed to break the last dam in your ribcage, sending you straight into another flood of uncontrollable tears. You leaped into Derek's arms out of the blue, cramming your face into his chest as your tears soaked the front part of his shirt.

"I'm sorry, Derek. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry? What are you sorry for, sweet girl?"

"T-The kiss. We shouldn't have done that. We shouldn't have k-kissed. It was a mistake."

Derek's stomach crashed squarely towards the ground. "A mistake?"

You nodded against his chest, pulling away to stare directly at Derek's face. Your eyes were red and puffy from hours of crying, and yet, Derek still thought you were the most heavenly creature he had ever seen in his entire life.

"That's w-why you've been acting strange, right? The kiss? Y-You're mad at me because of the kiss?"

"Wait. What—"

"I-I didn't... fuck—I didn't mean for everything to come to this. I never meant t-to make you run from me like this. I'm so, so sorry."

"Sweetheart—"

"I can pretend! Please, I can pretend like it never happened. T-That's what you want, r-right? I can forget about the kiss as long as—"

You didn't have the chance to finish your sentence.

Not when Derek suddenly pressed his lips against yours, seizing the words and the breath thoroughly out of your throat.

Butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach. Nothing else mattered in the world except for Derek's hands on your skin and the way his tongue danced with yours as he deepened the kiss even further. You could've spent the rest of eternity kissing him like this if it weren't for the need to come up for air. That was the singular reason why you even agreed to pull away at last, albeit reluctantly.

"Derek?" Your voice was thin and fragile amidst the quietude of your home. "I don't understand... I thought—"

"No, sweetheart," Derek cut you off, leaving a quick peck on your lips because he couldn't help himself. "Remember in Florida when you called me your best friend? I thought that was your way of telling me you regretted the kiss."

"What? So... you weren't mad at me?"

"No, of course not." He scoffed incredulously. "How could I ever be mad at you?"

"I just thought—"

"Hey, look at me." Derek tilted your face by the chin until you were looking directly into his eyes. "I'm yours, (Y/N). Do you understand?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I'm yours, too, Derek. Forever."

Derek spent the night at your home afterward. Although it wasn't the first time he stayed over, something about it felt fresh and brand new as he lay on your bed as officially yours while you lay next to him as officially his. He nuzzled your body flush against him, entangling every inch of your limbs with his own as he listened to the steady intakes and outtakes of your breathing.

"I love you, sweetheart," Derek murmured against your hair, playing with the end of the strands as he heard you let out another tired sigh. "You know that, right?"

"Hmm? I love you, too," you mumbled blearily, burrowing yourself deeper into his warmth before sleep finally took over your whole being.

Safe to say, you had the best sleep that night than you ever did in your entire lifetime.

[ddejavvu]

Hello! May i request a fic where reader plays 7 minutes in heaven with Spencer and he's all nervous cause he likes the reader, he hasn't done anything with a girl before and reader thinks it's adorable how Spencer's all flustered? :,)

If it were anyone else, you might have been inclined to loosen up. But instead of Morgan's strong, self-assured demeanor, or Prentiss's enticing, devil-red lips, it's Spencer that's standing before you, stiff and awkward and too tight all over.

"Spence," You hum warily, sympathetically, "We don't have to do anything. We can talk for seven minutes, if you want."

You know full well that Spencer can talk for seven minutes straight, and you prepare yourself to get lost in another one of his textbook rambles. But he doesn't take you up on your offer, shaking his head disjointedly.

"No, I- you wanted to play to... do something," He grasps at euphemisms, letting them wrap like cotton around his tongue to hide their implications' foul nature from view. The fibrous politeness thickens his words, garbles them: "I- we can do something, or- if you want, like... yeah."

You reach out to take his hand, but it's apparently more mortifying for him to be gently held than to suggest that you fuck in Derek's closet. He flushes red at your touch, something you only see because you'd located and flicked the light switch by the door, something Derek would resolutely disapprove of due to the nature of the game.

"I want you to be comfortable, Spencer," You assure him, his hand limp in your own, "I mean- have you ever even... done something before?"

He nods vigorously, but you think it's out of mortified insistence than annoyance, "Yeah. Uh- well, sort of? It was- I kissed someone once. In a pool," He admits sheepishly, "But it was more- like, she kissed me? It was over before I could- like, figure out the... mechanics, y'know?"

You bite your tongue, nodding instead of telling Spencer that there's no mechanics to kissing. Kissing is really a flow, a stream of tongues and lips and sometimes teeth that depend only on the terrain that the other person offers it. Mechanics are for instruction manuals, but you don't come with one. However, Spencer's brain doesn't flow, it reads instruction manuals, and you tentatively offer it one.

"I could teach you the mechanics, if you'd like?"

"Here?" He asks, like you weren't pushed into this closet to boink.

"Yeah," You shrug, shoulders loose in opposition to Spencer's tight muscles, "Or we can talk."

He deliberates, you see it in his eyes. There's minimal light in the closet, because the bulb Derek has screwed into the ceiling is fading. But you can see Spencer draw the inside of his cheek between his molars, gnawing thoughtfully on its meat.

"We don't have to," You assure him softly, but it's that softness in your voice that seems to push him over the edge. He meets your eyes for the first time since you'd stepped into the closet together, murmuring a soft, 'Really?' that makes your knees beg for collapse.

"Really," You assure him, squeezing his hand that's still in your grip, "You want to?"

"Yeah," He nods tentatively, but bravely, "If that's okay."

"It's okay," You smile, endeared by his insistent hesitance, "Come here, Spencer."

You're perched on the edge of a shoe organizer, and Spencer steps forwards guided by the pull of your hand until he's standing with his feet between yours. He looks at them warily, like they're too close, like they're different parts of your body that he's not ready to touch yet, but you call his attention to you with a soft parting of your spit-slick lips. It's a wet sound, and his long, brown lashes flutter as it calls to him.

"Bend down," You instruct him, because his towering height is even more prevalent while you're sitting down. He hunches, and it's awkward, but you place your hands on him, one on his side and one on his shoulder, to readjust his stance.

His breath hits your face, and he seems to realize that, clearing his throat and holding his breath so that it doesn't anymore. You lift your hand off of his shoulder and set it over his cheek, brushing your thumb feather-light over his nose.

"Breathe, Spence," You try not to laugh at him, even if the gentle sound that spills from your lips isn't really a laugh as much as it is a breath, "It's okay. I won't bite you. Even if Morgan thinks I should."

His skin sears warmer beneath your hand, and you know he won't take the lead, so you do.

You lean in to press your mouth to his, and nothing more. That's all it is, a meeting of lips that fit nicely, snugly against each other, and stay in their places. You don't think he's ready for the flow yet, not while you can practically hear his brain whirring with instructions instructions instructions, and you break away before he can try to turn the page of the manual.

"Did you like it?"

He's silent for a moment, but you don't think he's deliberating, you think he's just forgotten how to speak. He blinks, once, twice, three times, and his heart beats a thousand times between each one. Your hand is still braced against his side, the other on his face, and you feel the muscles in his jaw and torso move in tandem as he surges forwards to press his lips back to yours.

Dam open, all of a sudden Spencer Reid is flowing, and tangling your hands in his hair and riding the current for the rest of your seven minutes does seem like your idea of heaven.

[starshinegarcia]

Holiday House

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Part 2

In short: Hotch needs help, and you need a job. Part 1 of ?? we shall see how far this goes :) Warnings for mentions of alcohol (very infrequent) possible mentions of smut/cut to black scenes in the future! ;) __ Is in place of Y/N!!

“And the town said, ‘How did a middle class divorcee do it?’”

Aaron Hotchner was never one to admit to needing help, let alone one to ask for it. But as he sat in the dim light of the kitchen, a case file in one hand, a glass of whiskey in the other, a million thoughts ran through his head. His thumb rubs his temple gingerly, averting his gaze from the graphic crime scene polaroids, over to his son’s bedroom. Just a few hours earlier, he had called off abruptly to pick up Jack prematurely from school, after he had climbed to the very top of the jungle gym in an attempt to do something Garcia called “parkour”.

He survived with only a few scrapes and bruises, but it was clearly a drastic cry for attention.The door was open ajar, illuminated only by the dinosaur night light, casting a soft blue glow over the sleeping boy. When Haley had died, he had quickly realized that being a full-time father would not prove easy with his job. As time went on, it only got more difficult for him to divide his attention- and Jack’s recent episode at school was a cruel wake up call. One thing was evident- he needed someone to attend fully to him, and Hotch needed the ability to commit fully to his team, and to the BAU.

So, first thing in the morning, Penelope was faced with a curt knock on her office door. Spinning around in her chair, she rises and opens the door, Starbucks in hand. “Fancy seeing you here, hands- Oh, hello, sir, m-my apologies. I thought you were Derek.” She cleared her throat, but arched an eyebrow as she detected a faint twinkle in Hotch’s eyes. “Garcia.” “What do you need sir? Stats? Access to a secure database?” She spins around quickly, already typing the nearest case details into her supercomputer. “Well, actually, it’s more of a personal question. Do you happen to know any, uh, childcare workers?” “Like a nanny, sir?” He cringed at the cutesy word, but nodded nonetheless.

“Yes, I suppose.” Garcia pushed her glasses up her nose slightly, observing the man in front of her. Although she wasn’t technically a profiler, she knew Hotch well enough to find things out of place, as they were now. “Actually, yes, sir, I know just the person.” A slight plot began to form in her head, as she sent a number through her printer and into Hotch’s hands. “That’s my friend, __. She’s perfect, lots of experience, Jack would love her. Actually, sir, you would too..” Hotch fumbles for a second, before raising an eyebrow in her direction. “That’s quite enough, Penelope. This is strictly for Jack’s benefit. I appreciate this, however.” He nods curtly, backing out and bumping straight into a coffee-bearing Morgan. “Trying to steal my girlfriend, boss-man? Not cool.” Derek chuckles, pushing past him politely and planting a kiss on Penelope’s cheek. “Damn, I beat you to it!” He gestures to the coffee already in her hand. “I can always use more,” Penelope giggles.

Hotch shuts the door quickly, glancing down at the number in his hands. He walks quickly back to his office, passing right by Spencer and Rossi arguing about something or another. “With all due respect, sir, Logan Paul has absolutely nothing against Mike Tyson-” “He’s a billion years old!” Shaking his head slightly at his team’s banter, Aaron sinks into his chair, punching the number into the landline on his desk. Everyone else may use cellphones now, but Aaron still preferred the old fashioned way, when it came to business.

You had just finished an extremely degrading night shift at the diner, picking up your phone with a raised brow as you exited the back room. “Hello?” “Hello, this is SSA Aaron Hotchner. Is this __?” Your heart rate picked up- maybe from the fact that an FBI agent was calling you, maybe because his voice was low and steady and weirdly attractive. “O-oh, um, hello sir do you- need something?” Hotch takes notice of the light and airy pitched voice on the other side of the line, and something about it makes his heart skip a beat. He ignores it, proceeding, “I was wondering if you were prepared to interview for an in-home, uh, nanny job? For lack of a better word. Penelope Garcia gave me your number, and I trust her judgment for better or worse.” A smile spread across your face. “Absolutely, sir. When would be a good time to meet, Mr Hotchner?”

It’s strange. Aaron gets called sir about a hundred times a day, but something about your innocent voice sends a shiver down his spine that he can’t explain, but does his best to ignore. “Why don’t you stop by my house at around 6 tonight? We can talk, you can meet Jack, and we can go from there.” “That works for me, sir.” You smoothen out your skirt, a sudden blush chasing your cheeks as you think about meeting this mystery man, one you’d only heard anecdotes about from your best friend and her boyfriend. “Perfect. I’ll have Garcia send over my address.” The line clicks before you get the chance to respond, leaving you slightly flustered, with your hands wrapped around your cellphone a little more tightly than you thought, almost as if you were holding onto the idea of him. The poor man, left alone with his son, with a job like that.. You shake your head, quickly grabbing your purse, clattering your nametag down on the counter with a defiant “I quit.” to your manager as you happily left that damn place for the last time.

Back at the office, Aaron watches his team out in the bullpen, Morgan and Garcia enveloped in something on his desk while Spencer spins a rubix cube towards Emily, with a “good luck” sort of look. He’s not sure what the emotion he’s feeling is, but whatever it is, he brushes it off and grabs the case file dropped off earlier, emerging into the open office, with the same professional air as always- if a little less uptight than usual.

“Who knows, if she never showed up, what could have been?”

A/N: AHHH this was so so much fun to write!! I hope my writing style and the way I write Hotch is okay, I’m still new to the fandom and show but I did my very best! Suggestions are always welcome! Please like, comment, reblog and send me requests!

-e.a <33

[mrs-weasley-reid]

EXECUTION STYLE

an UNFINISHED DRAFTS entry...

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Synopsis: Sometimes, despite all the love, it's never enough. Warnings: cliffhanger. angst. brief mention of shooting. a little plotless. will not continue. A/N: i asked if some of you would want my drafts that i can't for the life of me finish; here's the first entry. (also, hotch is really getting a lot of attention from me lately; his spirit is def doing some witch stuff)

   Blurry vision of red and blue lights slows each motion under the moon's dim luster. You sit at the edge of an ambulance, wrapped in a silver blanket. A maroon jagged line from temple to chin.

  You watch your team reunite in bone-crushing hugs, but an aching tug in your chest brings your lower lip stuck between your teeth. Steamy tears begin to pool in the back of your eyes— unshed.

   "I think we should reevaluate this relationship."

   You straighten up from grogginess to a fully awake state as you turn to Aaron. He swallows at your gaze. A guilty look drains the color of his face.

   "Because I asked you to shoot me, or is it because I didn't blink when I shot you?" A wry smile makes its way to your face. No matter how heartbreaking it is to look at him, you can't bring yourself to do so. You want to see it through. You need to see it through.

   Aaron gulps thickly like a thousand pieces of broken glass are stuck right in his throat, scraping what little strength he has as he fights his will to look into your eyes. "It's part of the job. You had to do what you thought was right."

   "Yeah, right," You scoff, inhaling deeply as if the simple manner of breathing in front of him has become suffocating. "If it was Derek or Emily who pulled the trigger, you would've reprimanded them right on site."

   "The situation was different."

   "No, it wasn't, Aaron."

   Your voice hits like a bee sting. The sound is harsh against his ears. And Aaron knows you're right.

   Cheeky smiles glow up ahead. You know Emily's saying something laugh-worthy to the other members of your team as they gawk at the two of you.

   If only they knew.

   If only they knew it was over.

   If only they knew... Will they still joke about Aaron's smitten affection towards you? Will they still joke about your natural skill to calm Aaron with your presence?

   It's over.

   You have been hit, execution style, straight to the heart.

   "I'll get my things during my lunch break on Monday." You say, shifting your gaze to the herd of profilers that got tired of watching from afar. The closer they get, the brighter you seem.

   The smile on your face shoots an arrow into Aaron's chest. He knows you too well to know it's not genuine. That it's a mark of pain and suffering.

   But it's over.

   Is it?

[reidreaders]

Girl's Night Out

Poorly Kept Secrets: Part 3

Summary: Part 3 in which Penelope accidentally spills Spencer's secret (you) to JJ and Emily!

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: kissing, use of y/n, established relationship, semi-secret relationship, not proof read, idk this is pretty much just straight fluff but lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: I'M ALIVE BITCHESS I took some time off writing bc college is hard but im back!! I had so many requests for part 3 to this story so I hope y'all enjoy!!

Part 1 Part 2

Things had quieted down around the BAU in the weeks since Hotch, Penelope, and Derek found out about you and Spencer. The three of them had agreed to keep Spencer’s secret, seeing as how he wasn’t ready to share you quite yet, which was massively relieving to him. The team hadn’t been called out on many cases lately, meaning that Spencer had more free time than ever to spend with you. You and Spencer had only been dating for a couple of weeks, so you were still in the getting to know each other phase of your relationship, so it was tough that he was away fighting crime most of the time. All that to say, it was a nice change of pace for the both of you. You spent your nights taking turns cooking dinner and choosing which movie to watch, you spent your weekends introducing each other to your favorite hobbies (you had a new found love of chess), and lately, you had spent your mornings waking up next to each other. 

You and Spencer had yet another dinner and movie date planned for that night. When he arrived home from work, you were already in his kitchen getting dinner started. 

“Hey, Spence!” you shouted from the kitchen, as you heard the familiar footsteps enter the apartment.

Spencer rounded the corner into the kitchen with a confused look on his face, “Hey?” he questioned, “what’re you doing here so early?”

“I thought it might be nice to have dinner ready for you when you got home! Plus, I might have missed you a little bit.” you grinned as you moved to be closer to him, throwing your arms around his neck as he moved to put his hands on your waist. 

“Well that’s really sweet of you,” he blushed, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t missing you today too.” he leaned in and closed the gap between the two of you. The kiss was soft and tender, yet full of passion. 

Spencer pulled away with a puzzled look on his face, as if something had just occurred to him, “How did you get into my apartment without a key?” 

Your eyes widened, guilt evident on your face. You had hoped that the imminent promise of dinner coupled with the fact that you were so excited to see him would be enough to distract him from the fact that you were seemingly breaking and entering. “Um…” you delayed your response, trying to figure out what to tell him, “I may or may not have bribed your landlord to let me in…” you winced, hoping he wouldn’t be too mad.

“Well, I’m gonna have to have a word with her about that.” He chuckled, leaning in for another kiss. 

You moved back to the stove to finish up cooking dinner, while Spencer set the table. The two of you sat down to eat and began what had become your usual dinner table conversation. You asked about his day, which he welcomed the opportunity to ramble on about. You didn’t mind when he rambled. In fact, you enjoyed it, hooked on every word that came out of his mouth. He asked about your day, and to be honest, you rambled just as much, happy to have someone in your life who seemed to genuinely care about how your day went. Needless to say, you guys had gotten much more comfortable around each other than you were the first time you had been invited over. Of course, it didn’t help that the two of you had been busted by his boss in desperate need of a babysitter.  

After you had finished eating, Spencer did the dishes, while you picked out a movie to watch with him. When you had first started dating, it quickly became very evident that Spencer had never seen any of the blockbuster movies you loved, nor had you seen any of the foreign films he held so close to heart. So, movie night became a tradition, taking turns showing each other your favorites. In the spirit of fall, you had chosen ‘The Fantastic Mr. Fox’, a childhood favorite of yours. 

You had raided his closet before starting the movie, desperate for something comfy to wear. You had chosen a pair of soft, flannel pajama pants and CalTech sweatshirt that smelled just like him. When you returned to the living room, Spencer was already laying down on the couch. You snuggled into him, squished between him and the couch, with your head on his chest and an arm thrown around his stomach. One of his hands was lovingly rubbing your back, but made its way up to your hair as he got more engrossed in the movie. This was your sweet spot. Nothing could put you fast asleep quicker than someone playing with your hair. You began to doze off, and Spencer, exhausted from a long day of paperwork, wasn’t far behind you. 

What the two of you did not know was that Emily, JJ, and Penelope had just finished up at a wild girl’s night out. The bar they had chosen was located conveniently close to all of their houses, and coincidentally, right down the street from Spencer’s apartment. The ladies had just begun their walk home when tragedy struck; JJ had to pee. 

“Oh c’mon can’t you just hold it?” Emily asked, anxious to get home.

“Yeah, we’re so close to your house Jayje!” Penelope chimed in.

“Guys, no! I’m seriously about to have an emergency. Now, can we please just find someplace to pee?” JJ begged, clearly desperate.

That’s when Penelope had a light bulb moment. “Oh! Why don’t we just pop by Spencer’s place real quick? I’m sure he won’t mind!” She said, excited to have found the solution to JJ’s ever growing problem. 

“Sounds good to me!” Emily said, followed by a “Thank God!” from JJ. 

As Penelope led her friends to Spencer’s apartment, she had completely forgotten about the secret she had promised to keep. She wasn’t used to Spencer having girls in his apartment, after all. 

When they finally arrived at Spencer’s place, JJ frantically knocked on the door, but got no answer. The two of you were fast asleep on the couch inside, with the movie drowning out any noise from outside the apartment. 

After knocking for several minutes, and receiving no answer, Emily decided to take matters into her own hands. She pushed past JJ to the door and tried the handle, revealing that it was unlocked. JJ raced down the hall to the bathroom, not noticing what the other girls had. 

“Oh no.” Penelope whispered to herself.

“Who is that??” Emily said a little too loudly for Penelope’s liking.

“Shut up! You’re going to wake them up!” Penelope whisper-yelled.

JJ had finally reached the bathroom by this point, slamming the door shut behind her. Spencer jolted awake at the sound, which in turn stirred you awake, too. He looked around for the source of the sound, but instead found two of his coworkers staring at him with wide eyes. 

“What are you doing here?” Spencer said exasperated, as he jumped up from the couch.

“Spencer, I am so sorry. I totally forgot about Y/N and that she’s a secret and JJ really had to pee and we were right down the street so I brought them here and I’m really, really sorry.” Penelope spat out, practically at the speed of light. 

You sat on the couch, barely awake and trying to process what was going on. You sat up to get a better look at the intruders and realized that you had seen them before in photographs. 

“So, are you gonna introduce us to your dirty little secret, Reid?” Emily smirked.

“She’s not my dirty little secret. She’s my-she’s just-” Spencer was cut off. All of the sudden you were next to him, extending your hand to Emily.

“I’m Y/N. Spencer’s girlfriend.” You said it proudly, even if the two of you hadn’t entirely agreed on what you were to each other yet. 

This statement elicited what was quite possibly a world record blush from Spencer. He was so happy to hear you call yourself his girlfriend that he had to restrain himself from grabbing your face and kissing you. 

Emily and Penelope introduced themselves to you and the four of you made small talk while you waited for JJ. You were happy to get to meet some of the friends you had heard so much about, even if the circumstances were less than ideal. 

JJ finally made her way out of the bathroom and noticed you for the first time, “Woah, what did I miss?” she asked.

Spencer jumped into action mode, determined to spare himself from another awkward explanation of why he hadn’t told anyone about you yet, “Nothing!” he said quickly as he began to usher the girls out of the apartment. 

You giggled under your breath at him. It was so endearing how determined he was to keep your relationship away from the prying eyes of his profiling friends, to give the two of you the space to figure out your feelings for each other, to spare you from yet another strange and unexpected encounter with his coworkers. 

As Spencer walked them out, you couldn’t help but eavesdrop. You listened to the girls asking him all kinds of questions about you. It was incredible how much they managed to ask him between the living room and the doorway. Once Spencer had finally gotten them out of the apartment, you heard him speak. “Can we please just keep this between us. I really, really like this girl and I don’t want to put too much pressure on her by introducing her to you guys already.”  They all agreed to keep his secret, solely because he did seem to really like you. 

Spencer shut the door and made his way back to you, “I’m really sorry about that,” he chuckled, embarrassment evident on his face, “I seriously have to talk to the team about them showing up here like that.”

“No it’s okay,” you assured him, still swooning at what he had said to his friends, “It was kind of nice actually.” you smiled.

“Oh yeah? How’s that?” Spencer asked, genuinely curious about what you could have possibly enjoyed about that encounter.

“Well, I get to officially be your girlfriend now…” you said sweetly.

Spencer blushed again, thrilled that you were excited to put a label on your relationship, “Yeah,” He giggled, “I guess something good did come out of all that chaos, huh?” he said before leaning in to kiss you, your first kiss as an official couple.

hope y'all enjoyed! I had so much fun writing this one, so I think part 4 will be up sometime next week! ALSO my requests are open so send me something to write :)

MASTERLIST

[were-wolverine]

teen wolf as b99 quotes

*lydia’s party in s2*

lydia: why is no one having a good time? i specifically requested it.

***

isaac, to lydia: derek told me not to let him get hurt tonight, so i’ll keep him away from you.

later

stiles: have you seen lydia?

isaac: lydia died eight years ago.

***

derek: oh, are you and allison no longer…

scott: smushing booties?

derek: …yes that’s exactly how i was going to phrase my sentence, scott.

***

stiles: we gotta get to hospital and we gotta get there fast.

jackson: then i should drive.

scott: why you?

jackson: i have nothing to live for and i drive like it.

stiles: …okay, let’s do it.

***

stiles: all right, give me your hair-dryer.

allison: what?

stiles: don’t you carry one in your purse?

allison: have you ever met a human woman?

stiles: …*calls lydia*

lydia: hey, stiles.

stiles: hey. do you carry a hair-dryer in your purse?

lydia: of course. i’m not an animal.

***

stiles: you think you can just bully people, but you can’t. it’s not okay.

stiles: i’m the bully around here. ask anyone.

***

erica: i’m not a stone cold bitch.

erica: i’m a natural, beautiful presence.

***

stiles: do you know how many basic bitches would kill to have the same personality as me?

***

peter: we can go to my apartment. no one knows where i live.

derek: i thought you had stiles over once.

peter: yeah, it was fun. i moved the next day.

peter: he would way too easily use that information against me.

stiles: he’s right, i would.

***

scott: stiles, i screwed up, big time.

stiles: scott, given your daily life experiences, you’re gonna have to be more specific.

***

kira: ‘writing things down’ is nerdy!? what do you do?

malia: i just forget stuff like a cool person.

***

allison: you are disturbingly good at this.

lydia: i grew up forging report cards.

lydia: if people knew how smart i was, it would have been harder to control them.

***

stiles: are you a minor? how old are you?

liam: i’m 610. i’m a highlander.

stiles: okay, you know what? i’m gonna put that in there.

stiles: and then you’re gonna be tried as an adult highlander, and they’re gonna cut your head off.

***

erica: what do you look for in a guy?

stiles: i don’t know, real stuff. shape of his ass.

erica: yeah that tracks

***

scott: i straight up drove him off, big screw up on my part.

derek:

scott: i’m trying this new thing, where i just own my mistakes. i like it, do you?

derek: i did. until you bragged about it.

***

boyd: you searched for ‘cheapest date possible’.

stiles: and i wear that search like a badge of honor.

***

scott: wow, your handshake is quite firm.

kira: i took a seminar.

scott: where?

***

stiles: a parsec is actually a measure of distance. that’s one of the many inaccuracies in the ‘Star Wars’ universe.

malia: and what’s ‘Star Wars’?

stiles: oh boy.

***

scott: okay- no big deal, five days is nothing. i’m not afraid to be alone with my own thoughts.

scott: my thoughts are awesome. die hard 6 on a cruise ship… pizza bagel restaurant…

scott: my father never loved me, i’m gonna die alone.

scott: oh boy, that escalated quick.

***

stiles: well, remember when you told me not to burn down the precinct?

sheriff stilinski: you burned down the precinct??

stiles: no, i had the fire put out almost immediately. this is a success story!

***

stiles: peter, this isn’t High School Musical.

scott: yeah, peter, this isn’t High School Musical 2.

stiles: yeah, and it isn’t High School Musical 3: Senior Year.

***

boyd: i’m fine at parties.

boyd: i just stand in the middle of the room and don’t say anything.

***

derek: i only feel one emotion, and it’s anger.

isaac: last night you drunk-texted the whole pack a bunch of heart emojis.

derek: …out of anger.

***

stiles, to jackson: no hard feelings. but i hate you.

stiles: not joking. bye.

***

lydia: give me the ring.

stiles: ha, you sound like Gollum.

lydia: that means nothing to me.

lydia: i don’t see those movies, i’m too pretty.

***

stiles, walking out after a pack meeting ends: sexy train is leaving the station.

stiles: check out this caboose! later, sluts.

***

scott: look at me. do not blow this for us.

random dog that allison hit with her car:

***

peter: i really miss these people, the whole pack. stiles, scott…

peter: …i forget all their other names.

derek: *judgemental eyebrow raise*

[asjjohnson]

Immortality

(a ficlet written for Dannymay 2024 prompt 6: Immortal AU: What if Danny/Halfas couldn’t die?) Also on AO3.

---

He actually didn’t know whether halfas were immortal or just lived longer than humans.

Now at around age 140, give or take a few years (what year was it now? he could calculate it), Danny was an old man in his human form—wrinkled skin hanging from his arms and face like unironed fabric; hunched over to half his original height, bones grated down as though left exposed outside over the past decades; eyes milked over; ears inadequate despite their larger size; mind fogged.

He had no one to look to. A few years ago, or maybe a decade or two ago, he’d searched the Zone for any sign or rumor of the existence of other halfas. He wasn’t sure how long he’d searched, talking to distant ghosts, visiting places he never could have imagined existed, the Ghost Zone stretching on and on, toward infinity, before he’d given it up as a lost cause.

Vlad (though only a few years older than Danny and thus wouldn’t have been of much help anyhow) never returns to his human form. Had stopped living as a human altogether once he’d realized he was ‘growing old’.

Of course, this had been before Vlad was anywhere near an old man. Back when he’d only been about 60 years old. A few wrinkles and thinning hair, and his vanity and pride had had him abandoning his human half completely.

Not to the extreme of extracting that part of himself, of course—he had known better by that age—but of denying its existence; living solely as a ghost.

Danny had grown fond of humanity, however. The light touch of gravity, an embrace that kept him tethered to reality; the life found everywhere he looked, in the grass at his feet, in the air around him, or even just walking by him—so unlike the void of the Ghost Zone, the vast empty space with small pockets of ecto-life scattered across its depths; even the ache in his bones, the proof that he was alive, still belonging to this planet. It was all fondness.

Even as his senses continued to fade—the details of leaves and faces blurring even with thick glasses, the chittering of birds growing silent even with hearing aids, the difficulty of holding objects (connecting with the world around him) with pain and trembling hands—he clung ever more to the human world and its small wonders.

And though all his human friends from over a hundred years ago might be lost, he wasn’t alone.

They were still here.

Alive and well, living echoes seen in their grandchildren, great-grandchildren, great-great-grandchildren, and teenaged great-great-great-grandchildren. A town composed of familiar faces. And sometimes those echoes were so strong, he called someone by the wrong name.

Matilda wears a black shirt one day and, even with the pink floral patterns, Sam is so strong within her.

Derek tries out for football, and the way his smile pulls across his face is all Dash, even through the freckles and shaggy brown hair.

Nicky’s righteous glare is Valerie shining straight from his heart. Although the light in his eyes as he talks about psychology is all Jazz.

Danny was trying. Trying so hard to stay with them all, as they continued to live, fully alive, forever onward.

He didn’t know whether halfas were immortal.

[hedwig221b]

Hi! Love everything you do and all your gorgeously crafted fics. If you haven’t already answered, what’s your writing process like? Your last story was so good I actually started jotting down ideas, brainstorming. It’s the closest I’ve gotten to writing in years. The thought of actually doing it though can be daunting. How you process a story idea into and take it from an idea to the great stories we get to read??

Thank you! It may just be the greatest pleasure for a writer to inspire another to write. I am taking your hand - and I hope you feel its warmth just like my gratitude - and pouring all of my inspiration to you 💗 I hope you get sooo inspired to write and share the excitement of getting to create

I feel like I'm going to rant so I'll hide it under the cut. Major spoilers for Yes To Heaven, as I'm gonna give it as an example.

1. I usually just start thinking about one scene or a single concept, maybe a couple, and then think: oh, this could become something tangible. You gotta catch that scene in your head and really taste it, look around the characters (where they are, when, what universe), try to envision it in your head like a movie; look inside the characters, what are they feeling, like, right now, what their thoughts are, what are they saying? At this point, usually the idea starts to grow into my mind so deep that the only way to get rid of it is to write. Otherwise, it would drive me insane.

Example: with Yes To Heaven, it started with one scene where Stiles is surrounded with alphas, and everyone wants him, everyone looks at him and stumbles all over themselves to help him. And Stiles is blushing and beautiful and wondering what's all this for. And Derek in the corner, glaring at everyone and seething.

2. Ok, now it's time for the good old record scratch and the "you're probably wondering how I got here". I sort of step away from the scene: one step into the past and one into the future. I usually get really quickly to the "oh so THIS is the story, okay...". So you got the vague feeling of the plot.

Example: I literally started to think: why would Derek not intervene? Why would the alphas circle around Stiles and want him? What would Derek do, bc he can't simply stand aside and watch the vultures peck at his Stiles. Oh, Stiles is an omega. What if he was a rare omega? The only way Derek wouldn't intervene is if he didn't have the same reasons to circle Stiles. He differs from others. He's a bodyguard. But he intervenes in the end. Why?

3. And then, of course, you get the feel of the story. Ah, this is a story about beautiful Stiles breaking Derek's control and everything he knew about himself (sort of, in the most simple sense).

Then I get boring and go look at the trusted three act plot structure. I know there are a lot of plot structures out there, but this is the most common one and simple to follow. (I'm dying to explore other plot structures tbh, they look intriguing)

Once at the structure, I usually go for the big guns and straight up start thinking about the climax of the story bc I love drama.

Characters need to break. Something about them needs to: their body, their mind, their worldview, their very core and morals and beliefs. The climax is what your story will be remembered for, the very nail-biting tension at the height of it and the inevitable drop into the abyss. Characters need to change, that's why we follow the stories of them.

Not gonna lie, I don't struggle with this part, I'm always there for the ultimate angst, so idk how to tell you to get there.

Example: Stiles' hesitant trust for Derek shatters when Derek sends him back to the Institute. He didn't expect it and it is the worst betrayal for him. Stiles breaks. Derek breaks as well, bc Stiles rejects him. It changes both of them: Derek becomes ruthless (he could've killed Deaton from the beginning, but something always stopped him until now); Stiles, after Derek comes back for him, lets the trust to flourish, and he becomes content. For the first time in his life, Stiles has someone he can trust to come back for him and keep their promises. Derek would never leave Stiles - and that's the resolution for both of them.

At this point, I really see what the story is truly about: trust and its fragility, the false safety of feeling like you have that trust when you have nothing but the shadow of it.

Now I know what everything has to be about. The theme (trust, in my case) should be like the sun that shines upon all of them and soaks into every corner of the story. Everything should lead you step by step to the resolution of the theme. You don't have to focus every single sentence on it, but it should be there, always. Like the sun. You don't notice it, but it's still there.

4. Then, you have to think about the backstory. You really have to think why are they doing what they do, where do they come from, what lead them to where they are now. The backstory starts waaaaay before the tale does, but you have to develop it (because some if not most traumas come from childhood/adolescence).

Example: why is it so important to Stiles that someone comes for him? (everyone left him before, his mother and father). Why does Derek want Stiles so bad? (Stiles needs him to survive, Stiles is not afraid of him, Stiles accepts him as he is)

5. Now that I have the beginning and the climax, I usually follow the three acts points (you can create more acts, just keep raising the stakes and the tension). How do they meet, what creates the spark between them, the attraction and the conflict, what makes them fall in love, where does that love lead to?

6. Not gonna lie, more often than not I don't know how to end things. I get to the climax and just sit there staring at the wall, like, now what? The answer for me is to go to the beginning and make the ending reflect it but in a new light: either sweet, or bitter, or anything in between. It puts a nice bow to your ending, ties all ends, closes all arcs and creates a nice contrast.

Maybe, there's a false climax (like, with Stiles sleepwalking out of his father’s house alone at night and Derek nearly tearing John to shreds bc of it (it's just another push to him keeping Stiles solely to himself in the end)). You get a little breather before shit really hits the fan (the tension keeps climbing; maybe not with the angst but instead with sex or a side plot drama).

About the stakes: your character needs to lose something to change. Because, otherwise, how else do you make the change worth anything at all? You decide what the loss is, something good or bad depending on the story; the loss of a loved one? an old misconception? a harmful habit? a good habit? entire world?? life??? You also get to decide whether the character does it willingly. The change becomes valuable only if it costs something.

Example: Stiles letting go of his Dad (his past and his pain, his burden). He lets Derek take it off his shoulders - and trusts him to carry it right.

Tip: you really should try to tie all ends (unless leaving them open is intentional), at least as much as you can, bc you as an author will probably forget that you haven't told it (bc in your head you know it all), but the reader doesn't know shit and will be like, "And what about A, B, and C? You haven't told us, ergo you're a lazy writer". For me, that's for the editing stage. You have to really think whether you actually told that one important thing or you just thought that everyone would get it out of the context.

Example: I always envisioned Derek with a beard in Yes To Heaven, but after I started editing, I noticed that the first mention of it is at, like, 50k word point or something. Jesus, Hedwig, not everyone can read your mind, explain things! Or how Laura doesn't know that Derek is their pack's Left Hand (had to go back and make Derek and Cora more secretive with his job).

7. Welp, that's kinda it.

There is a lot more that comes to making a story better with different ways of storytelling (I love Chekhov's gun and red herrings, personification and metaphors, to the point where it gets repetitive).

Believe me, I get the dread and the sudden emptiness of mind that overwhelms you when you stare at the empty document. You sit there and stare, and nothing comes out. But, the thing is, instead of focusing on the behemoth of the idea in your head that leans over you like storm clouds, look down and pick at small things.

Maybe create bullet points: the climax scene, the incidents that lead to it, small stuff. Once you write it down, you'll see the whole story better. And it really helps when you're stuck and you don't know what to write next. Look in your notes, at the structure (you can print it or draw it and just write above the points), and you’ll feel more grounded.

Suddenly, it's not this enormous thing, it's this little thing that leads to this other little scene and, oh, they're sucking each other’s dicks.

The grand Idea is your sun that's always there and shines upon you, but you don’t focus on it, you're just making your characters fry pancakes. It will all come together, just... small steps. Small steps that lead you to the top of the Everest. Don’t look at that top, focus on the steps in front of you, else you'll slip into the crater of a burnout.

I hope this was coherent lol. Hope I helped you in some way 💗

[divider link]

[writingkeepsmewhole]

Loud and Heavy

This is part 1 of my why choose Teen Wolf Fic.

Fic Summery: Harper McCall falls for both Stiles and Derek and has to choose one. Or dose she?

Part Summery: Harper goes with Stiles and Scott to find a body in the woods. What happens when she gets separated and bitten by something.

Warnings: None?

Let me know if you wanna be tagged.

I stood in my bedroom soft music playing from the computer as I tried to pick out what to wear tomorrow. It was the first day of school. The first day of the rest of my life. Both me and my brother Scott decided that we were going to be who we wanted to be in school this year.

He was going to play lacrosse and I was going to do well…something.

Problem with me: I had no idea who I wanted to be. No big dream I wanted to have in high school. This was my last year to live the high school dream but what even was that?

Be asked to prom? I don’t know, haha. Parties. I always wanted to be invited to one of the parties more for curious sake than hanging out with a bunch of drunk teenagers.

I guess me and Scott were different. Well I was. I wasn’t the girly girl, or the nerdy goth. Sweet and shy or bubbly and outgoing. No, I was always in the middle, always being pulled in two different directions.

So here I stood staring at my bed trying to decide what style I was going to wear. Who was I going to become?

Why was I worried about my clothes so much? Because I had to have something that told others who I was.

I was just as much in the middle on the outside I was on the inside.

Everything about me was average. Average height. 5���4, average weight at 170. I have brown eyes only a few shades lighter than my brothers. Brown medium length hair that has just enough body it wouldn't stay straight and not enough waves to hold a curl. Like I said I was average.

My thoughts were cut off by a strange sound coming from outside. Glancing out the window I didn't see anything making me leave to go find Scott.

I jumped, seeing him in the hallway holding a bat.

“Did you hear something outside?” Both of us ask at the same time, making me giggle and Scott look unamused.

“Let's go check it out. I'm right behind you.” I say, holding on to his hoodie.

He smiles and shakes his head at the thing I've done since we were toddlers and starts walking towards the front door and outside.

Rounding the corner of the house my heart nearly stops when someone hangs from the roof Scott yelling along with the culprit until we all realize it's Stiles.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Scott says, sounding annoyed as he puts his bat down.

“You weren't answering your phone. Why do you have a bat?” 

“I thought you were a predator.”

“A pre…what?” Stiles says, the look of confusion and shock on his face makes me giggle.

“Hey Harper.” He says smiling at me.

“Hi.” I say, tucking my hair behind my ear and smiling back.

I'm sure it was no surprise that I had a crush on my brother's best friend but it was kinda hard not to. He was funny and just the sweetest person.

“Look, I know it's late, but you gotta hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called-- they're bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department, and even state police.”

“For what?” Both me and Scott say that at the same time but with opposite reactions.

Where Scott had a frown on his face I had a look of curiosity. I guess you could say I got my rambunctiousness from Stiles, us always getting into trouble together.

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.” Stiles says, the glee of mischievous clear in his eyes.

Stiles lifts himself untangling from the trellis and drops to his feet in front of us. 

“Like a dead body?” Scott asked, confused and horrified.

Stiles moves to lean on the railing of the porch looking at Scott like he's dump.

“No, a body of water.” He says, sarcastically, making me snort out a laugh which he smiles at making me look down to hide my blush.

“Yes, dumbass a dead body.” He says rolling his eyes and climbs over the railing to join us on the porch.

“Were they murdered?” I ask, the nosy side of me coming out.

“Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties.”

“That's horrible.” I say, frowning. 

“Hold on.” Scott says, both of us looking at him.

“If they found the body, then what are they looking for?”

Stiles practically grins, tickled with the drama of the night.

“That's the best part- They only found half.” He says, his face growing serious.

“We're going.”

“I'll grab my shoes.” I say turning towards the house.

“What? No you're not going and neither am I. I have tryouts tomorrow.” Scott says grabbing my arm to stop me.

“Oh come on Scott it's the last night of summer break let's do something fun.” I pout, sticking out my bottom lip.

“I got this. Go get your shoes.” Stiles says placing a hand on each of our shoulders.

“Thank you.” I say, moving back into the house.

I jog up the steps not worried about the noise. Mom was working tonight so there wasn't anymore in the house.

Ignoring the tightening of my asthmatic lungs I start to grab my shoes until I see myself in the mirror.

I was in pajamas. No makeup, not even a bra on.

Blushing, realizing Stiles saw me like that I quickly moved to my bed to fix the situation.

I grab the first thing my hand touches and get dressed. I didn't really care about the no makeup thing but I at least needed a bra on.

Pulling on my shoes I grab my inhaler and rush back downstairs seeing the boys getting in Stiles' jeep.

“Wait for me.” I call out to them, my lungs already bothering me.

“You okay?” Stiles asks, looking me up and down.

“Fine. Just outta shape.” I laugh climbing into the back of his jeep and taking a puff of my inhaler.

Getting inside Stiles starts the engine and away we go.

Pulling up outside of the beacon hills preserve Stiles stops the car tuning it off.

“Are we seriously doing this?” Scott asks, looking over at his best friend.

“Come on brother, live a little.” I say grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.

“How many energy drinks did you have today?” He asks, looking back at me.

“Umm three why?” I ask, holding up three fingers.

“I told you I planned on pulling an all-nighter so I could work on my style.” I say, waving my hands down myself.

“I think you look great.” Stiles says, giving me a once over then turning back to my brother.

“Of course we are doing this. You're the one that's always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town.” He says but I'm not really listening.

My heart flutters my cheeks hot as I look at what I'm wearing.

I was in jeans, a T-shirt and a flannel. My hair was in a messy bun. A few stray hairs fell around my face and I had on my glasses instead of my contacts.

I was definitely rocking the nerdy look at the moment but plus one for it if Stiles liked it.

“I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow.” Scott says pulling me back to the convention.

“Right, 'cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort.” Stiles says, almost rolling his eyes.

“No, because I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making first line.”

Stiles looks at Scott in disbelief then turns to look at me. Him asking if he's serious with his gaze.

I blush and shrug not knowing what to say 

“Hey, that's the spirit! Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one.” He says smacking Scott on the shoulder and turning to open the car door.

“We're going to get in so much trouble.” Scott says, looking at me.

“It'll be fun, come on.” I say, turning to hop out of the Jeep and head towards the woods.

We all three walked in silence for a little while. It was a clear night letting us see how to move through the woods without tripping over our own two feet.

“Just out of curiosity, what half of the body are we looking for?” Scott asks, mimicking Stiles' sarcastic tone from before.

“Huh? I didn’t even think about that.” Stiles says, glancing at me with a sheepish look on his face.

“And Uh…What if whoever killed the body is still out here.”

“Also something I didn’t think about.” Stiles says flat out embarrassed.

“You two are going to get me killed.” I say looking at them.

“Me? You were the one who wanted to live a little.” Scott says.

“Well yeah, but…” I trail off not having an answer. We were also starting to climb up a hill. No way would I be able to talk and climb at the same time.

“It’s comforting to know you planned this out with your unusual attention to detail.”

“I know.” Stiles says through labored breathing.

Reaching the top of the hill I bend over holding my knees, my ears ringing as if I've been holding my breath for too long.

I close my eyes not listening to the other two, just focusing on my breathing.

When I lift my head I’m alone. Looking around I see no flash light and I don’t hear anything other than my ragged breathing.

“Guys?” I question, walking forward to catch up with them.

“Scott? Stiles?” I call out my heart rate starting to pick up at the thought of being alone out here.

Hearing a snapping twig I turn to head towards the noise knowing they can’t be too far away from me.

Walking around a large tree I freeze when I see something glowing red in the distance.

Thinking it’s a police car I duck behind a tree not wanting to get in trouble. Stiles Dad would know I was out here with him if he caught me.

I blush at the thought of having to explain that to him.

Hearing rustling leaves I stay perfectly still scared of being found. When the sound stops I let go of the breath I was holding.

Peaking around the tree I see the same red glow yet it’s closer. Right in front of my face and its eyes. A pair of glowing red eyes are only inches from my face.

Them set into the face of a very large animal. I don’t get a chance to look at it before it lunges at me. 

I scream as it tears into my skin biting down hard into my shoulder. I try to pull away from it, hitting it as hard as I can.

It lets go and takes off running leaving me there. I jumped up and pushed myself in the opposite direction, scared that whatever it was would come back and finish the job.

I go as fast as I can ignoring my burning lungs scared the thing was right behind me. I don’t slow down even when it starts to rain.

Fear piping through me drives me forward. I don’t stop until I run out into the road the sound of screeching tires and a horn fills the air.

Headlights blinding me as a car stops inches from hitting me. I stand there shaking as the driver door opens and someone walks up to me.

“Are you okay?” Asks the man who got out.

He is taller than me, his broad shoulders making him seem a lot bigger than me as well.

“I…It..something is out there.” I say my eyes burning as tears start to run down my cheeks.

He doesn't say anything, his eyes jumping to my shoulder. I could feel the warm trail of blood running down my back. 

I let out a hiss when he lifts what’s left of my ripped flannel off my shoulder.

“What happened?” He asks, looking at me, his jaw clenched.

“I don’t know. Something bit me.” I sniffle out.

“Okay. Come one I’ll give you a ride home.” He says, wrapping his arm around me.

I let him, feeling scared but not as scared as I was in those woods moments ago. He opens the passenger door and helps me get in.

I wrap my arms around myself as he jogs around the front of the car and gets behind the wheel.

We don’t speak as we drive back towards town. I sit there shaking the heat cranked up.

“Do you, uh, want to talk about it?” He says, clearly not used to comforting people by the tone in his voice.

“I don’t even know what happened.” I say, staring at the dash.

He didn't say anything, the ride to my house was silent after I told him the address. I should have gone to the hospital but I didn’t want to worry my mom or get any one in trouble.

I get out of his car when he pulls up the crack of thunder sounding overhead, the rain only increasing.

Wrapping my arms around myself I head towards the door surprised when he gets out.

“Thank you.” I say looking at him.

He nods, handing me a paper with scribbled numbers on it.

“I’m Derek.”

“Harper.”

[clotpolesonly]

from one hurricane sufferer to another: sterek hurricane??

oh god, throwback to a supremely half formed idea with very little to actually do with hurricanes 😂😂😂

this was from my "craving sex favorable ace rep" period, and the premise was that a hurricane knocks out the power for a few days and it's super hot and super boring, and with nothing else to do Stiles figures he might as well lay around and jerk off until the lights come back on. and Derek, checking up on all his people personally cuz the cell towers are down, walks in on it and is like 😳 but also a tiny bit like 👀

i don't remember if there was supposed to be a song and dance about it or if it was gonna jump straight in, but it was definitely meant to be ace!Derek to whom fucking Stiles hadn't really occurred before but now that the option is right in front of him, he's down!!!

there is less than one page written lmao, sooooo here, have the whole thing:

The hurricane knocks the power out all over the city. That’s about it, though, at least in Stiles’ neighborhood. Lots of branches down, trees blocking the roads, but for the most part it’s just a very inconvenient excuse to have three days off of work. And to be bored out of his mind, of course, considering no power means no internet and no TV and no games on his phone unless he wants to run the battery down and be stuck with no way to communicate with anyone in an emergency. Not that the communicating is really happening either because the cell service is spotty at best and completely non-existent the rest of the time, and it’ll be days before everything is restored to proper working order. So really there’s only one thing left to do. Not quite as much fun without his porn collection, but Stiles is more than capable of jerking off in the low tech fashion, just like all his ancestors before him. Returning to his roots. It’ll be cleansing. Stiles sprawls out on top of his bed, naked as the day he was born because it’s fucking hot without AC, and gets to work. He’s got plenty of time, but he has also never been a patient man. Why delay gratification when he can be gratified now and then have time to do it again later? He’s well on his way to the grand finale and almost too distracted to notice when there’s the clomp of heavy footsteps in the stairwell outside his apartment. He barely has time to scramble for a pillow and cover his junk before his door is swinging open—he’s really gotta start locking that—and Derek is waltzing right on in like he owns the place, in the middle of saying something that Stiles isn’t paying any attention to. They both freeze. Derek looks taken aback, which Stiles can’t help but be sort of entertained by since he’s normally a pretty unflappable person, but Stiles is also naked and still hard, and that is a very awkward thing. Finally Derek clears his throat. “Um...were you…?” He makes a vague sort of gesture. “No,” Stiles says with an extensive roll of his eyes, “I was knitting a sweater. Yes, Derek, I was—” He gestures vaguely right back. “Are you here for a reason?” There may or may not be a slight blush on Derek’s cheeks. It’s sort of hard to tell with just the light from the curtained window. He is shifting on his feet, though, in an uncomfortable sort of way. He’s obviously trying to keep his eyes averted, but he keeps glancing up at Stiles and immediately looking away again. “I was just, um...I was making the rounds, checking that everyone in the pack is okay, since the phones are mostly down. Everyone’s fine.”

that's it lol

.

ask me about my WIPs!

[ev-belknap]

Part 2 of my wwdits s4 rewatch to prepare me for s5! Here are my geeking-out notes of The Wedding, yes one episode only, I had too many notes just for this one XD

- As for Guillermo calling Nandor ‘master’, we clock off right here, at a grand total of 3 in the entirety of the season. Which is so little?! Interesting to me is that the first two feel very accidental/habitual, but the last one, right before the wedding, feels extremely deliberate / soothing. (You’re just not thinking straight Master) I am really, really hoping he doesn’t say it ever again. Unless maybe sarcastic?

- Guillermo sleeping: he powerfully jolts awake twice, once by docu crew, once by Guide/Nadja, but the third time Nandor finds him, and Guillermo simply gently stirs then goes back to sleep 🥺 (I fucking love cinematic rule of 3 and it’s so so soft??)

- Also so fucking soft: the *only* vow that happens on camera in that episode is between Guillermo and Nandor 🥺 Fuck but these actors are all so good. Anyway Guillermo vowed he’d be right there. So he can’t very well leave anymore can he? He promised. So there.

- this isn’t relevant to s5 really but Nadja and the Guide make over: someone PLEASE cosplay Nadja in that denim / sparkly hat situation I NEED IT

- The Derek store has a ‘need a quick bite?’ poster 😂 Yes Derek, yes he does. Better start putting down towels.

[lithiag]

Drawn Together (part 2, Derek Morgan fanfic)

A/n: Here ya go, part 2

Idk how many part I'm gonna make. Probably a lot, but not all of them will have smut.

If you have tips or ideas, lmk

Hope you enjoy

Cw: smut, oral(f receiving), fingering, piv sex(w protection)

"How many of them do you want to see?" Derek asked Melony. He really should have chosen different wording. His mind went straight to the gutter.

Melony had looked at him, her deep green eyes staring right into his soul. He couldn't help but think about how they would look after a night of good loving. His gaze dropped to her lips, which were parted ever so slightly. There were a soft pink, plump, but a bit thin. But well, size didn't matter, right? As long as you use them right. She must be able to use those lips really well in a lot of different ways. He imagined them against his own lips, then on his neck. He imagined her kissing him down his body and the-

"All of them" melony breathed softly. It interrupted his thoughts, but only for a second. She wanted to see all his talents? He could definitely show her how well he could use his hands on her, both above the waist and below. She would probably appreciate it if he used his lips on her. He knew he could leave her moaning his name, and begging for more. He couldn't help but imagine how she would sound if he did all those things to her. Touch her, rub her, kiss her, lick certain area's.

"All of them? Well, I don't know if we can get to all of them tonight" he said and leaned closer to her. He could smell her perfume. It smelled sweet, like flowers. It had started to fade and was mixing with her own scent. He wanted to lean even closer and dive deep into her scent and mix it with his own. She would smell amazing if their scents would mix after some good love making. He imagined her the morning after, coming downstairs for breakfast wearing only his button up, hair messy and softly smiling at him before kissing him and going for an extra round. He would give it to her any time she wanted.

"H-how about we start with seeing if you can draw? You said it was easy" she said. Did she stutter a bit? He was making her nervous. Perhaps she felt a very similar way to him. Was she imagining the same things he was? It probably wouldn't be difficult to convince her to let him show her how good those fantasties could be in real life if she was. He felt his throat dry up.

"Sure, could i have another drink?" He asked her. He wanted to add 'sweetheart' or 'baby', but he didn't want to make her feel like a maid, or make it obvious he was on the verge of trying to seduce her well and truly.

She grabbed his glass and walked towards the counter. Gosh, did those pants make her butt look good. They looked so beautifully round. Wouldn't they just make the perfect view if he would bend her over the counter or the table, and pull her pants down. Maybe she was even wearing sexy underwear. He could take them off, expose her core to him so he coul-

Melony stumbled slightly. Derek snapped out of his daydreams and got up. Perhaps she had had too much alcohol. He walked towards her and put a hand on her shoulder. Being so close after all those thoughts made it difficult to not pull her close, kiss her and move her to the bedroom to make all those delicious thoughts real.

"Are you okay?" He had to be sure she was.

She replied in the positive, but Derek didn't believe her.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded this time. She didn't want to say anything? She looked at him and he saw her eyes were a bit darker, they looked at him differently.

"You're not. Do you need anything?"

Why did he choose those words? It made his mind wander again. He wanted her to say one word, and one word only. But he also knew that he wouldn't be able to hold back anymore once she did.

And then she said it.

He pulled her against him and kissed her. Melony wrapped her arms round him and pulled him closer to her. Derek moved one hand down to her wiast to pull her body closer against his, and he knew she had to feel how much he wanted her.

And she did. The moment their hips met, Melony could feel his desire strain against his pants and press against her through all the fabric still between them. If only he could feel her pooling desire for him that had soaked her underwear.

Melony pressed closer against him, wanting to feel more of him, she wanted to feel all of him. And he wanted to feel all of her. Derek slipped his hand under her shirt and pulled it up. Every time their skin touched he could feel himself grow harder and more needy. He wanted, needed her so bad.

Melony started to undo the buttons of his shirt. Once she had undone them all she pushed the shirt off of his shoulders and down his arms, getting a good feel for how big and strong they were. They broke their kiss just long enough so Derek could take off Melony's shirt, and then their lips found each other again. Melony moved her hands up his strong arms, taking in every curve of his muscles, then down his chest.

Derek placed one hand on the small of her back to hold her close, and let the other hand wander across her skin. It went down her side, up her arm, then down her chest and into her bra so he could cup her breast.

Melony let out a soft moan. Derek took in sharp breath at the sound. It sounded so good. He needed to hear it more. He moved his hand away from her breast and down her body. He then picked her up, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. It would be fun to just press her against the wall and take quick care of both their neediness, but they both knew they wanted it to last longer.

Derek started walking them towards the hall and up the stairs. He almost tripped a few times, but kept himself up straight.

"First door on the right" melony mumbled against his lips. Derek groaned slightly to let her know he heard her and walked that way.

Melony deepened their kiss more. She bumped into a wall a few times because Derek couldn't really see where he was going, and he broke their kiss to be able to look for the right door.

He walked them into the bedroom and kicked the door closed with his heel before making his way to the bed.

Derek softly lay Melony down on the bed. He stood over her and looked at the beautiful sight in front of him. He leaned down and placed his hands on either side of her chest before he leaned closer and started kissing her neck. Melony let out a soft hum in pleasure. Her hands started roaming his skin. She always knew he was muscular, but the feeling of his skin against hers was so much more enticing than she could have imagined. As her hands moved across his back she felt his muscles tighten and relax with every move he made. He kissed his way along the side of her jaw towards her ear, and he kissed her right below it. Melony moaned softly and pulled him closer.

Derek slightly pulled back and leaned close to her ear,

"That's right, baby girl, let me hear you. Let me know what feels good." He said in a low, seductive voice before he kissed her below her ear again and kissed further down her neck. One hand reached behind her back and he swiftly undid the clasp of her bra. Melony removed her arms from his neck and she removed her brastraps from her arms. Derek tossed the small piece of clothing to the side and moved one hand across the skin of her waist and belly, before moving it up and cupping one of her breasts. Melony let out a moan and ran her hands across his back again. Derek kissed down her chest, then moved his lips towards the breast he wasnt fondling and took the nipple in his mouth. He felt Melony's entire body relax for a moment as she let out a pleasured sigh and he grinned a bit. He kissed her nipple and slightly sucked it. He moved his tongue across it, and each movement of his lips and tongue on the little pink bud was rewarded with another moan from Melony. She softly placed a hand on the back of his head to encourage him to continue. He let go of the breast he was cupping and slowly moved the hand down to the edge of her pants. Melony let out a slightly shakey breath,

"Please." She breathed.

Derek undid the button on her pants, then undid the zipper teasingly slow. Melony let out a slightly desperate moan and moved her hips. Derek used both his hands to pull down her pants, all while keeping his lips firmly on her nipple. Once her pants were gone, he moved a hand up the inside of her leg to her core. He grinned and pulled back so he could look at her,

"Are you this wet already?" He asked. Melony's eyes were full of desire, and she saw that exact same desire in his. Derek could feel that his name was on the edge of her lips, and he wanted to hear her moan it. He moved her panties down her legs and softly rubbed her clit with his thumb. Melony bit her lip and let out a slight moan, and when Derek pushed two fingers inside her dripping pussy, her head fell back,

"Derek! Oh, yes" she moaned. Derek moved his fingers in and out of her. Her wetness coated his fingers and he slipped in and out of her with ease. He couldn't wait to fill her up properly. His pants started to get very tight and uncomfortable. He kept moving his fingers inside her while he moved his face up to level with hers and he kissed her. Melony moaned against his lips and held him close. Derek then curled his fingers against her spot, and melony let out a loud moan and she slightly dug her nails into his skin. Derek groaned and deepened the kiss. Melony started to move her hands down his chest towards his pants, and she started to take them off.

"Derek, please" she moaned as he curled his fingers again.

"You want me?"

"Yes, Derek, baby, i want you so bad," Melony sighed. She wanted to feel him inside her properly. She wanted him to stretch her and fill her up. She knew he had to have a big cock, and knew he would feel amazing in her, she just wanted it to be real instead of just fantasies.

Derek grinned and sat up, removing his fingers from her pussy. He moved his pants down and melony glanced down. Even though his underwear was still on, Melony could see how big he was, and that he was rock hard for her.

Now that his fingers were no longer inside her, she wanted his cock even more. She sat up and reached for him. She moved his underwear down and was met with his hard member pointing right at her. Melony wrapped her hand around the base and moved her hand up and down a few times. There were so many things she wanted to do. She could rub him with her hands until he covered her in his cum, or she could take him in her mouth and swallow all he gave her. Most of all, she wanted him deep inside her dripping pussy. She wanted to feel all of him on top of her and inside her.

She then noticed a small packet he had in his hand. He had pulled it from his pocked before he had pulled his pants down.

Melony took it from him and opened it. She pulled out the piece of latex and placed it over the head of his cock, before rolling it down his shaft.

Derek softly pushed her onto her back, and Melony pulled him into a kiss so he had to move with her and he would be on top of her.

"Oh, baby, I want you so much" he breathed.

"I want you too."

"Almost" Derek said. He wanted to push into her so much, but he first wanted to make sure she would have an orgasm. He kissed down her neck one more time, this time doing it fairly quickly. He kissed down her chest and belly before kissing her clit. Melony moaned out, louder than before, and the grabbed onto the sheets.

Derek slipped two fingers back inside her. He started moving them in and out of her, curling them at the right time to make sure he would hit her spot as much as he could. He kept his lips against her as well, moving his tongue across her clit. He slightly moved his lips down and pulled his fingers from her core before pushing his tongue inside her.

Melony moaned out loudly. Derek licked at her a few more times before moving his lips back to her clit and pushing his fingers inside her again.

"Derek! Oh, I'm cumming. Please" Melony moaned. Derek curled his fingers again and flicked his tongue across her clit. Then the bubble inside her popped and melony moaned out, grabbing onto the sheets tightly. Her legs started shaking. Derek kept moving his fingers to work her through her orgasm. When she came down he pulled out his fingers and started kissing up her body. He moved his hands across her waist. Melony moaned with every touch, still very sensitive.

Derek kissed up her belly, her chest, and her neck before kissing her on her lips again. Melony kissed back and wrapped her arms around him.

"Derek, i want you." She breathed

"I want you too, baby. But i wanted you to feel good first" Derek said softly and stroke her hair

"You make me feel so good. I want to make you feel good too."

"You will, baby." Derek said and positioned himself at her entrance. When Melony felt his tip against her, she slightly wrapped her legs around his.

Derek grinned a little bit and slowly pushed into her. Melony let out a moan and grabbed onto him. She bit her lip and slightly dug her nails into his skin as he stretched her. He felt so good, but the first stretch was a little painful.

Derek kissed her neck as he pushed in further. He felt her stretch further around him. He filled her up nicely. She was tight around him, but she could take him well. He slowly pulled out until only his tip was inside her. Melony softly moaned and pulled him closer. He pushed in again and started moving at a steady pace once he felt her relax.

"Oh, you feel so good, baby." He groaned softly.

"Oh, Derek" Melony moaned, "oh, you fill me up so good."

Derek kissed her again and picked up his pace slightly. He was so hard, he couldn't wait much longer. He needed his own release so badly. He wanted it to feel good to her, but he couldn't wait too long anymore. She felt so good around him. So tight, slick and warm.

Melony started moving her hips with him and relaxed under him. Each time he trusted into her, she moaned against his lips. Soon they found a steady rhythm and they both let out pleasured sounds each time their hips met.

"Oh, Derek, harder" Melony moaned. Derek groaned softly at her request and moved one hand down to hold her hip while he picked up the pace, thrusting deeper into her and harder. Melony moaned louder and started to kiss his neck,

"You feel so good, baby" she said in his ear, "so good inside me. Yes, keep going. Oh, Derek."

"Mel..." derek moaned. Her moans were bringing him closer and close to tbe edge.

"Yes, oh, you are stretching me so good. Yes, Derek, oh"

"You're so tight and wet for me, aren't you?"

"Yes, it's all for you. You make me so wet."

"Mel, I'm close." Derek groaned and thrusted into her a bit faster. Melony removed her legs from his thighs, spreading them a bit wider so he could go deeper.

Derek groaned louder and pushed in when he finished, spilling his seed into the condom. As he did, Melony tightened around him again. He had sent her over the edge again and she held him tight during her second orgasm. Derek pressed his face into the crook of her neck, taking in her scent.

They both panted and held each other close while they came down.

Derek carefully pulled out and lay nex to Melony on the bed. Melony moaned softly at the loss of touch, then smiled at him.

"That was even better than i imagined." She said.

"It was, baby. So you were thinking about it too downstairs?"

"With all those comments you made, how could i not." Melony teased.

"I didn't make that many. I just used normal phrases."

"That had double meaning."

"I didn't even do it intentionally."

"Really? That surprises me."

"Well, i think i surprised you enough tonight didn't I?" Derek said and grinned a bit

"Oh, you definitely have." Melony smiled softly and bit her lower lip. Derek noticed and chuckled softly.

"Where is the bathroom? I need to clean up a bit" he asked.

"That door. If you need anything, just say the word." Melony said and pointed at a door inside her room on the corner opposite from the door they came through before.

"Thank you." Derek said and went to the bathroom to get rid of the condom and clean himself up a bit.

Melony waited in bed. When Derek came back out, he grinned a little bit,

"You lied to be." He said. Melony looked at him and furrowed her brows in confusion,

"What are you talking about?"

"You said you weren't a musician. But those sounds you made sounded like music to me." Derek joked. Melony smiled but looked away in embarrassment, "and i think you can play my instrument very well." Derek added. Melony hid her face under the covers, making Derek chuckle.

Melony moved one arm from under the covers and pointed at the door, "you can go" she said. Derek let out a laugh,

"Already?" He asked teasingly. Melony pulled the covers down slightly so she could look at him again,

"Did you plan on more rounds?"

"I'm always packed."

Melony grinned, "oh," she said and looked down and his penis before looking back up at him, "you definitely are."

Derek chuckled and lay down next to her,

"It was a good thing i had something with me."

"Did you plan on this?"

"No, but i am absolutely not complaining."

"Neither am I."

Melony smiled at him and kissed him. Derek kissed back and held her close.

~*~

Derek woke up and slipped out of bed, careful not to wake melony.

He grabbed his underwear from the ground and quickly put in on before walking downstairs. He went into the kitchen and looked through some cabinets and the fridge to see what was available for breakfast. Since he couldn't find much of anything, he settled on preparing some eggs.

While he stirred the pan on the stove to make sure the eggs wouldn't burn, he heard someone come in behind him,

"Good morning" Melony said, still a bit sleepy. She walked up to him and smiled, "I thought something smelled good in here."

Derek smiled, "Just scrambled eggs, nothing special," He said and looked at her, "Good morning to you, too." He said.

He then noticed she looked just like he had imagined the night before. Eyes still a bit sleepy, hair messy, only wearing his button up. He looked back at the stove and swallowed, trying not to think of how the rest of that fantasy played out in his head.

Melony noticed and grinned a little bit,

"Are you alright?" She asked, knowing exactly what was going on. She had seen how he looked at her when she walked in. She had had to sneak into the dining room to grab his shirt so she could put it on without him noticing, but it was worth the look on his face.

"Baby, you know exactly how i feel." Derek said, "god, woman, you are a tease"

"Oh, you don't like it?" Melony asked, feigning innocence, "should i take it off?"

Derek couldn't help but grin, "so you don't want breakfast?"

"Breakfast can wait, right?" Melony said and put her arms around him.

Derek turned off the stove and turned slightly in her arms, he pulled her into a kiss, picked her up and walked towards the stairs.