#((tagging just in case. Derek sucks <3))

[kittenchancorruptionarc]

Here, hold this *hands a hand full of worms*

“GAHHH!!! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!”

[Derek threw the pile of worms onto the ground, flapping his hands rapidly as he has a STRONG look of disgust on his face.]

“WHAT IS YOUR GODDAMN PROBLEM, JACKASS?!”

[fruitoftheweek]

Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 4:Showered in Sin

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Hey guys! I'm sorry that it has taken so long for me to update this. I had an idea of what I was going to write but I had a super hectic week so I wasn't able to write this till now. In order to make up for it, I have given you a treat. A 6,502 word chapter. It kinda beat my ass but I had so much fun writing it. It's sweet, it's spicy, it's all the goodness you guys deserve. I was listening to Duvet by Boa while writing this and I think you should too for two reasons. One, it helps set the mood, but also oh my fucking god it's such a good song. Also, Boa is just a fucking great band. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and message me if you would like to be added to the tag list! Love you guys

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After a game of drunk never have I ever after a long case, Morgan locks Spencer out of their shared room. Shenanigans ensue and you and Spencer share a couple of firsts.

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, slight mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slight blood kink (not really, it's just hard to explain), Shared masturbation (male and female receiving), pleading, multiple orgasms, cumming in pants, shower sexiness, aftercare

Word Count: 6,502

Your deep cherry lipstick painted the white seal of the wine bottle you held in your hand as you laughed at something Elle said. Spencer couldn't help but let a small smile pass his lips as he took in your form, hot from the day's work, small strands of your hair sticking to your forehead, a dewy glow illuminating your rosy cheeks.

After a long week, they had found Carl Arnold before he had been able to kill the Dunken family and even coerced a confession out of him. With spirits running high, Elle had suggested some much-needed relaxation before taking off the next day. Since you were rooming alone, you volunteered to host in your room. Morgan had arrived at your hotel room with two bottles of some sort of liquor, one clear and one amber, JJ trailing in toe with your bottle of red wine you had asked for. You pulled out your little corkscrew with the face of an old man on it, knowing she hated his weird little face. You brought it with you on trips, just in case the occasion arose.

And it did arise as Elle suggested a drinking game. Hotch had retired early after calling Hailey to get an update on his very pregnant wife, while Gideon preferred the solitude of a good book late at night. The rest of you sat on the floor surrounded by drinks and snacks. With the supervision gone, it almost felt like a high school party with no parents. You all had all settled on a classic, never have I ever. "We haven't played this in a long time because we already know so much about each other, but it's fun when we have a newbie around," Morgan said giving you a cheeky smile and bumping your shoulder. Already pliable after the couple of drinks you had while Elle explained the game, you nodded before tipping your lips to the cusp of Spencer's ear. "I'll try not to make it too hard for you, pretty boy," you said. The small puffs of air that left your mouth made Spencer's hair stand on end and his feet curl.

He knew you were teasing him that night and he loved it. He decided to keep his knees tucked to his chest for the rest of the night as to not expose the predicament in his pants. He watched the way you lightly sucked on the wine bottle as you tipped it back, a thin river of cabernet leaking from the corner of your lips and trailing down your neck. Spencer wanted nothing more than to lean over and lap it off of you just to see how you would react, but he knew it was the drinks talking. Despite your earlier comment, it was quite obvious that you were targeting him as his head started to spin gently.

"Never have I ever had sex with someone much older than me," Garcia said through her video feed with a cheeky smirk. Derek had insisted on including her even though she wasn't physically present. She sat bundled up in a comfy blanket in her office with a mug of some sort of alcoholic beverage. "HEY! No targeting! Plus, I told you that in confidence at ladies night. How much is much older?" You said, swaying your bottle towards the computer set up on the floor."You know how much older I mean sweetheart." Garcia said with a giggle as you groaned and took a sip."How much older is much older?" Morgan said with a cocked eyebrow, somewhere between impressed and surprised." I was a college student, experimenting with my professor. Not like an old man, but he was 20 years older than me. Definitely not my style anymore though." You said with a grimace remembering him.

Spencer had learned a lot about your sex life during that game, but some part inside of him smirked, knowing that the rest of the team would never know you as he knew you, not unless they too had read your journal. It was the only thing keeping his head clear of the idea of you with anyone else. Not that you were with him in any capacity, but the idea still made him feel something in his stomach. Not the sweet butterflies that came with your smile, but something more like idiotic hornets dangerously bumping against the walls of his stomach.

Spencer hadn't even noticed the uproar of everyone else around the circle at your comment and the second revelation that Morgan had drunk too. He was too busy watching how you had shyly tucked your hair behind your ear, finally letting it down out of your clips for once. You were wearing your pajamas, just a tank top, slouchy sweater, and flannel pajama pants, but somehow you looked more radiant than ever. He had come back down to earth after hearing someone call his name."Y-Yes?" He sputtered out, realizing you had been trying to get his attention."It's Morgan's turn, pay attention." You said, gently smacking your hand down on his thigh.

If he was riled up before, he was unbelievably undone at the slight sting from where your palm had just been. Light enough that it wasn't noticeable, but hard enough that it erupted a Shockwave through his body, centered on the location of the contact. He bit back the whimper threatening to escape his lips as he turned towards Morgan, trying desperately to not watch you from the corner of his eye.

"Never have I been a virgin at 24," Morgan said, beaming in his direction. Spencer took a big gulp from his glass of whiskey."You always do that one, I don't know why you think it's so funny, you're just trying to get me to drink" he said abashedly. He looked over at you, nervous for your reaction, but you seemed unfazed. "Hey, that's a wonderful gift to have, there's something so special about virgins. Maybe it's the idea that everything is new, but I like it. I love virgins." You said, taking a sip from your bottle, gently swaying. You had given up on never have I ever and just decided to drink whenever you felt like it. Maybe it was because you were tipsy, maybe it was the warm flush that decorated Spencer's cheeks, maybe it was the way he was looking at you with sultry, half-lidded eyes. You couldn't tell, but something made you want to find an excuse for you two to be alone.

"Geese, we seemed to have caught a succubus tonight." Morgan quipped."A suck-you-what now?" You said, cocking an eyebrow at him. " A succubus, it's a demon or supernatural entity in folklore, in female form, that appears in dreams to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. According to religious traditions, repeated sexual activity with a succubus can cause poor physical or mental health, even death. In modern representations, a succubus is often depicted as a beautiful seductress or enchantress, rather than as demonic or frightening." Spencer shot out. "Wow, even when you're drunk, your big brain keeps chuggin' along," you said, sloppily ruffling his hair "A beautiful seductress or enchantress, huh?" That time it came out low, inaudible to the others, but it pierced Spencer like a knife."Do you think that's accurate bout me?" you asked, staring up into his eyes, closer than you have been before. Spencer let a cartoonish gulping noise escape his lips as he held back his urge to lean into your touch.

"Ah, it's my turn," you said, leaning back into your spot in the circle and sadly, away from Spencer." Never have I ever done something naughty at our work," you said, looking straight at Spencer "I'll know if you're lying, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," your cocky smirk leaking out of your mouth. Everyone except you and JJ took a shot."Wow, really you guys? Even you Spence? " JJ said in disbelief, looking around the circle."Never have I ever, my ass" Spencer mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, looking over at you, thinking about your pantieless escapades.

"Look at that, Doctor Reid, you need another drink, let me go fix you one," You said as you grabbed his glass in one hand, leaning and gripping hard into his shoulder with the other. It wasn't seen by the others, but between that and the fiery look in your eyes, it sent an obvious message,' keep your mouth shut or I'll shut it for you.' You used him as leverage to get up, nearly pushing him over as you gracefully stumbled to the hotel fridge. He knew what you meant, but he didn't care, your grip on him went straight into his imagination as he envisioned what that grip would feel like in other places. He kind of wanted to push his luck, just so he could see what he had in store.

And push it he did as you handed him the glass, reminding him that it was indeed his turn to play never have I ever. "Never have I ever slept with my professor," He said, obviously targeting you with a glint of mischief in his eyes."Oh yeah, well never have I ever been a virgin at 24." You said, swaying as you sat down."Morgan already said that, dummy. Never have I ever worn stupid dark red lipstick" He retorted, equally as drunk as you. At this point everyone else had zoned you two out and were focused on other things, refreshing their drinks, counting the ceiling tiles, humming a sloppy rendition of My My Miss American Pie, or in Penelope's case, all three."Yeah, well never have I ever been a complete and utter mommas boy!" You continued, the statement turning Spencer beet red. You watched him clench and unclench his hands, you had obviously struck a nerve. Just as you were about to apologize, he cut you off. "Never have I ever had nipple piercings!" He shouted, pointing at your chest, now drawing attention to the obvious balls framing your nipples that you had once been covered by your long-forgotten sweater.

As he said it, it felt like the world went in slow motion. You could see the instant regret on his face as you dropped your bottle in surprise. It had landed on Spencers discarded whiskey glass and both shattered, wine and whiskey mixing with glass to create a slurry on the ground between them. "Fuck! You Guys!" Morgan said, "You got it all over my clothes." "Me too," Echoed Elle as they both stood up in their soaked clothes. "I think that calls it a night." JJ said, closing the laptop on the image of an already sleeping Garcia." Bye you guys, sleep well," you called after them as you and Spencer rushed around looking for towels to clean up the alcohol with.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Spencer cried as you dropped the last of the glass in the garbage can. As you rounded the corner, you saw Spencer pulling a rather large shard of glass that you must have missed out of his thumb, blood pooling at the tip. Without thinking, you crouched down and sucked his thumb into your mouth." A-ah! What... What are you doing!?" Spencer asked breathlessly, looking down at you with a deep hunger in his eyes. You pop off his thumb and squeeze it at the base, slowing the blood flow."Shut up," You said," This helps slow the bleeding. The sucking applies pressure. My mom used to do this for me... And no, do not psychoanalyze that." You said, wrapping your mouth around his finger, sucking to provide some pressure to slow the blood flow. You could taste the iron in your mouth, but you didn't mind, knowing you were helping your friend.

You were helping alright, helping in more ways than you would ever understand. "Yeah, like I'm the only one here with mommy issues," he said distractedly, too busy surveying your lips wrapped around him. You slapped your hand down on his thigh once more, eliciting a small whimper from him. He couldn't help it, you were a sight of beauty, you always were, but looking down on you right then, Spencer wanted to bottle that moment forever. The tops of your breasts peeking out from the top of your tank top, your eyes filled with a hazy glow, looking up at him to make sure he was ok, and your cheeks hollowing out around his thumb as you delicately sucked on his wound. It was as close as Spencer had ever gotten to anything sexual. He could feel your tongue swirling around the cut, lapping up the last couple drops of blood. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it was another appendage and not his thumb. You sucked on his thumb one last time, harder than you had previously, and before he even knew what he was doing, his hips bucked up, rubbing his hard cock against his pajama pants, finally relieving his mounting orgasm.

You let go of his finger with a pop as your tongue trailed off of the underside of his thumb. Spencer looked anywhere but you, as a wet patch formed through his thin underwear and pajama pants. He hurried to cover it with his sweater, shooting up from his seated position."Um, Um, I'm g-gonna go shower and go to bed." He said, hurriedly scurrying over to where he had left his room key." Sorry partner, I saw Morgan accidentally grab both of your keys on the way out. He's probably asleep by now." You said languidly, leaning back to take in the sight of the soft boy in front of you. Totally flushed with heat, small beads of sweat peppering his forehead, his hands twiddling suspiciously into his sweater in an attempt to conceal crotch, trying and failing miserably to hide his rapidly cooling cum.

He whined a little, lighting a fire in you. He looked so thoroughly fucked out, and all you had done was suck his finger. You knew that you just had to play with him some more. "You know, you can use my shower, doctor." You said, and he let out a small sigh of relief, heading towards the bathroom. "There is one condition, though," You smirked coyly as he halted his motions, his body facing away from you. It was almost as if he was ready to run away at any moment. You walked over to him, slowly, taking your time to tease him. The silence hung heavy in the air as you looked up into his eyes questioningly, waiting for him to ask. "Wh-what is the condition." He said, unable to return your gaze, hands fisted in the hem of his sweater, pulling it down even further. You smirked, dipping your hands up and under his sweater, nearly brushing his spent cock before gently placing them on his bare stomach, just above his waistband. He sucked in a tight breath as you gently swirled your fingers in the short hair that lead from his belly button down to happier places." Before I ask, do you know about the color scale?" you said, fingers smoothing out over his little stomach." Um, k-kinda?" He said, heat flushing his cheeks."Green means good keep going, yellow means slow down, and red means stop right now, ok?" You said, looking up at him as he nods."Come on pretty boy, I need verbal confirmation. I need to know that you understand, got it." You said with a little pinch to his tummy. "Y-Yes, I understand!" He blurted out, standing stiff as a board." Good boy. Now, for my condition. You can shower if you show me what you're hiding." You said, leaning close enough that if Spencer breathed, your chests would meet each other. "What color, Spencer?" you said, languidly drawing lines up and down his torso with your nails."G-Green, Very green." He sputtered out, finally meeting your eyes."That's what I like to hear, sweet boy." You said before your fingers danced below his waistline, now somewhat crusty from his cum."W-wait!" He says, just as you were about to take him in your hand. You instantly stopped and looked up at him gently."We can stop here baby, it's not a problem." You said, beginning to remove your hand from his pants. He grabbed your hand through his pants, stopping your movement."It-It's not that. I don't want to stop, I just want... well..." He said and looked down shyly. "What do you want baby, anything," You smiled up at him. "Um, I haven't had my first kiss yet and I kinda... Well... I kinda..." He said, shuffling his feet, face beet red. Your eyebrows shot up quickly in surprise before letting out a gentle smile."Do you want a kiss, pretty boy?" You said, gently brushing the hair out of his face. He nodded, and you grabbed his chin, bringing him close. "Use your words, pretty boy. What do you want?" You whispered, breath gently ghosting Spencer's lips as he took you in up close. He could see every little pore and dimple of your skin and every color hidden in the depth of your eyes and he knew he needed to have you.

He shakily leaned forward, lips gently meeting yours, so light that if you hadn't seen his actions, you wouldn't have even known if you had touched. You moved your hand down to his throat, giving a light squeeze."Come on genius, use your words," you said as he whimpered. "Please, can I kiss you, please, please?" He begged, leaning into your touch, pleading for you to squeeze again. His efforts shoot straight to your heart. You indulged him in a kiss, not as spicy as the situation would permit, more of a sweet heat. He came in too hot and heavy at first, but you kissed him languidly, gently stroking his cheek to get him in the rhythm. His arms were straight out at his sides, hands clenched as if he was willing every muscle in his body to not touch you.

You let out a small laugh as you melted into his kiss, soft, puffy lips dancing across yours. "You know you can touch me," You said, pulling back, smiling at the smear of your lipstick, now staining his lips, and the endearing puppy dog eyes he was giving you. "Where can I touch you?" He whispered out as if he were telling a secret. "Wherever you want, baby. Wherever your heart desires." You replied, bringing your arms up to wrap loosely around his neck, pulling your bodies closer. He was as stiff as a board as his hands flitted around trying to find a good place to land. He finally settled on weaving his arms around your waist and up to cradle your neck, gently carding his fingers through the hair that fell at the nape of your neck. There was something so sweet in the way he cradled your body with feather-light touches as if you would disappear like smoke if he lingered too long. You reveled in the feeling of you two pressed together, slightly uncomfortable at the stiff material of his pajama pants on your stomach.

"Hey sweetheart," You said, pulling away as he chased after your lips, "I'm feeling kinda sweaty from the day, would you like to join me in the shower? What color?" "G-green, yes please." He said, tentatively pressing a kiss to your collarbone, exposed as the strap of your tank top had fallen down. You unwound from him, taking his hand delicately in your own, instantly missing the warmth his body provided.

You lead him into the bathroom, carefully stepping over the wine-soaked towels discarded on the floor before shutting the door and turning to face him. "I don't want to take this too fast for you because I know it's all very new so always tell me how you are feeling and if everything is ok. I want this to be good for you baby, ok?" You said, squeezing his hand that was still intertwined with yours. "Ok, th-thank you," He said shyly.

"Now, what do you want to do first? You're probably pretty uncomfortable in those pants, do you want me to take them off you?" You said, hooking one of your fingers into his waistband, pulling on in slightly creating a much-needed separation between his sticky cock and his uncomfortable pants."Y-Yes please" He said as you turned on the shower, allowing it to warm up in preparation for cleaning him off before turning back to him. You gently grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless in front of you.

Lean muscles were hidden under a layer of peachy soft skin highlighting the gentle trail of dark curly hair leading from his belly button down past his pants. His arms curled around himself as he watched your eyes carefully, ready for some sort of judgment. "I know I'm not really that s-strong or anything but I can work on it-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss right above his belly button, startling him. You looked up sweetly into his eyes and gave him a soft smile, saying "You are so beautiful, Spencer. Morgan calls you pretty boy, but he truly has no idea. I would have you no other way than you are right now."

You gently peppered his chest with feather-light kisses, making him blush. He finally understood why people liked hickeys because as you trailed down his chest, the little wine red lipstick you had left on your lips left marks trailing down his chest. Some part of him wished they were permanent, showing off to all that could see, and they would know exactly who he belonged to. You dipped your hand into his waistband, asking, "What color?" "Green, very green," he choked out as your breath ghosted across his abdomen. You looked so beautiful, kneeled on the floor in front of him, taking care of him so gently and treating him so sweetly that he could feel his cock begin to harden again.

You looked up into his eyes as you pulled his pants down. He let out a soft sigh of relief as he was uncaged from his unfortunate trouser situation. His cock flipped down out of his pants, nearly smacking you in the forehead as you looked up at it in awe. Even though it was only semi-hard, it was bigger than any you had ever seen before. Spencer looked down at you shyly "it's not that much, I-I know but I've been researching techniques to make up for it in order to give sufficient pleasure for you- I mean for whatever partners I may have, not that I am saying that I won't please you, I dream of pleasuring you! ... I'm digging myself a hole aren't I."He rambled, rubbing the back of his neck worriedly. "Spencer, you are huge. Way more than I have ever had before. See?" You said, standing up, gently lifting his cock in your hand, measuring it against your stomach.

Maybe Spencer hadn't noticed because it was proportionate to his body and his big hands, but being held in your petite hands and measured against your stomach, he finally did see how much he would fill you up. The tip of his dick just barely reached past the gems that decorated your belly button piercing. "W-Woah." He said growing harder at the thought of pushing so deep into you. He looked up to your face, which was preoccupied with looking down at how far he would reach up in you.

Tearing your eyes away from him and up to his own, you flushed, knowing that he had caught you staring. "What would you like me to do next?" You spoke softly. Despite being the only two in the room, you two both talked in hushed tones, worrying that anything more than that would burst the delicate bubble you two had created. "Can we match?" He said, and you instantly understood him, despite the odd vernacular. You began to slip off your shirt, but he stopped you with an arm on your shoulder. "C-Can I do it?" He said shyly. "Of course, pretty baby," you barely get out before he drifted his hands under your tank.

He slowly lifted your top over your head as he took in the soft smooth feeling of your skin against his, goosebumps pricking up wherever his fingers trailed. You stood in front of him, shirtless as he took in your form. He had imagined what your breasts would look like. Nipples always hard due to your piercings, what your jewelry would look like, but nothing could prepare him for the glimmering moonstone gems that adorned your nipples and navel. Everything matched exactly, including the delicate necklace you wore around your neck.

The only thing he liked more than the perfection of your body was the features that made you, you. Some might call them imperfections, but to Spencer, all he could see in you was beauty. The gentle bruises on your skin from tangles with unsubs, the soft stretch marks that adorned your hips like little valleys and winding rivers, the slight blemishes, and hairs. He loved it because you were the embodiment of the confidence he wished for in himself. While he was always nervous about his body and how others perceived him, you loved yourself for exactly who you were, and you loved him for exactly who he was.

He pulled down your pants, gently following the twist and turn of the stretch marks as they winded down your hips, making sure to kneel down to pull them all the way off of you as you delicately stepped out, gently grabbing onto his hair to keep your balance as you swayed. He moaned softly at the gentle tug of your fingers while he stared up at you in awe. You took his hand in yours, coaxing him to stand.

You both stood there, taking in each other's forms for a moment, hands still connected as if by a thread at the pinky before you spoke. "We shouldn't waste water. Let me clean you off, sweetheart." He nodded before following after you into the gentle spray of the shower, steam now filling the room. He marveled at the way that the water droplets cascaded down your body, gently running down your curves. "Come here," you said, pulling him into a gentle embrace under the hot water.

Your two bodies pressed gently together, and Spencer couldn't help but think that you were molded for each other. Not in the way that a sculptor may stick two unmatched pieces of clay together with slip, more like one rock that had been split by the earth finally returning together. Something about your touch felt like home as you gently cradled him under the water.

He was so enthralled in your being that he didn't notice you gently scrubbing him with a washcloth until the scent of your body wash permeated the air. You gently scrubbed his back, washing off the sweat of the day and replacing it with you. He melted into you as your hands reached up, lathering his hair with shampoo. He wasn't sure if it was because he realized you should probably be getting washed too or because he desperately wanted to ride his hands along the planes of your body, but he decided to lather up his hands and wash you as well. "You are such a good boy. Thank you for cleaning me up" You said, resting your head gently on his chest, softly swirling the soap around his back, now finished scrubbing all you could from that angle, waiting to turn him around.

He moved carefully, avoiding your butt, still too nervous to touch. "Make sure you get everything, sweet boy. I like to be clean when I go to bed." You said, gently grabbing his hand and pulling it down to cup your butt. He inhales a sharp breath as he indulged in a gentle squeeze, continuing to wash you. He washed your back but his hands would occasionally drift down to your ass, growing more confident as he unknowingly rocked into you slightly with every squeeze, letting out soft keening noises.

You peeled yourself off of him as he rutted into the air, whining at the loss of friction. "Slow down, naughty boy. Bad boys don't get to touch. Are you a bad boy?" you asked as you placed a finger on the tip of his cock, swirling it in the precum pooling there despite the water's efforts to wash it off. "No, no! I'm a good boy! You're just so pretty, and you feel so good, and you smell so nice, and I wanna touch you, and I want you to touch me, please." He blurted out, looking at you with hungry eyes, begging for more friction. "Where do you want to touch me baby?" you asked as his eyes raked over your body, taking in all of his options. "I want to touch your boobies and your- your-" "My what? You can say it, naughty boy." You cut him off in his stammering. "Your pussy, I want to touch your pussy." He said, the hot water spreading the blush from his cheeks down his chest, tingeing his cock with a pretty pink hue. "What naughty words from such a pretty boy. You can touch-" he cut you off, lunging towards your body before you grabbed him by the throat, squeezing experimentally. Not too hard, not too soft. He moaned, and you felt the vibrations traveling up your hands."Let me finish what I was saying. Naughty boys don't get to touch. They get spanked." You said as he mewled." What I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted was that you can touch, AFTER I wash you and after you finish washing me. Only after, you got it?" you said, squeezing a little tighter. "Y-yes." he croaked out. "Good boy," you replied.

You washed out the shampoo in his hair, replacing it with conditioner as he did the same for you. You squirted more soap onto your washcloth, preparing to test him. You took the washcloth in your hand, slowly working over his legs, arms, and chest, teasingly brushing over his overspent cock before returning to cleaning him. He washed you thoroughly, taking care to wash your legs before making sure your stomach and belly button piercing were thoroughly cleaned. Finally, he reached up to wash the leftover makeup off of your face. He touched you like a porcelain doll, worried that you would crack under even the slightest pressure, making you giggle. He flinched, thinking he hurt you, but you grabbed his face in your hands, delivering him a kiss that covered his face in soap.

You both stood there, laughing for a second, relishing the moment before you let out a shy smile. "You can touch my chest now, but make sure you clean my piercings carefully." He looked down at your chest, and now that he'd been given permission, he didn't really know what to do. You could see the puzzled look on his face so you grabbed one of his soapy hands in yours and brought it to your breast. He squeezed experimentally, and you let out a gentle moan. You had been keeping in your arousal to draw out his teasing, but you couldn't hold yourself back as you felt his large hands grasp around your chest and roll your nipple in his fingers.

There was a sweet dichotomy in the harshness of his grasp on your boob, coupled with the gentle twist of your nipple. It was as if he was worried to hurt your piercings, so he made up for it in his grasp. You brought the washcloth down to his cock, hard against his stomach, and began to work him. He whined at the harsh material. "I need to clean you up, baby. You still have a cummy cock. If you beg hard enough when I'm done, I will touch you." You said into his ear as he rested his head on your shoulder.

He was overstimulated, and you could tell, so you decided you wouldn't take as long as you wanted to tease him. But you would still draw it out for your own pleasure. He was bucking and mewling into you as you roughly got him off. It shot you straight to your core, the heat from the shower mixed with his grasp on you, physically and visually, had you closer than you wanted, and deep down you just wanted him to touch you.

When you deemed him clean enough you let the rag drop to the floor. "Beg" you moaned out. "Please, please touch me, I want your hand on me, that's all I want." He whined, bucking into the air. You took pity on him, grasping him with your soap-covered hand. He hissed as your soft touch replaced the rough rag and you could tell he was close. "Touch me, Spencer." You said and his hand shot to your core. His tentative moves giving way to a natural confidence. As he slipped a hand between your folds he could feel you dripping with desire. "O-Oh my god," was all he could stammer out before sinking two of his fingers into your depths, thumb circling your clit. You knew his fingers were long, and you had even fantasized about this exact moment, but nothing could prepare you for his actual length. He had said he did research but that was proven by how quickly he found your g spot and clit. You doubled over in pleasure as his fingers thoroughly fucked you out.

"Spencer, I'm so close, baby. Be a good boy and make me cum." You said, slumping against his shoulder, rubbing yourself against his hand. "Mommy, I'm cumming." He said, looking into your eyes as his body shuttered. His words ricochetted around in your brain, sending you over the edge as you cum all down his hand. You bit into his shoulder to muffle your scream, just as he matched you, cumming down your hand.

You came down from your high as Spencer nearly collapsed onto you. You took extra care in making sure he was all clean before helping him out of the shower and into a towel. He leaned against you the whole time as you got him ready for bed. You forced him to brush his teeth before dragging him to bed.

He sat at the edge, eyes bleary with sleep, taking in the events of the day. You sat behind him, gently toweling off his hair before brushing it and putting lotion on his body. He leaned into your touch, appreciating being cared for, feeling as if everything had been a dream. "C-Can I sleep here? I mean Morgan locked me out and I don't have pants and-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss."Of course, sweetheart, do you want to cuddle? It's ok if you don't or if you want this to be a one-time thing, it's all up to you, baby." You said, gently sweeping his hair out of his face as he looked up with eyes the size of dinner plates. "We can do this more than once? You'll let me? For real?" He asked. "Only if you want to sweetheart. This is all about you." You said, giving him a small smile tinged with a slight sadness. "That's not very fair, I want it to be about you too. What do you want?"

The question knocked you off guard. You're not used to people asking what you want. Usually, people just take and give none in return. The fact that Spencer Reid, your adorable virgin coworker was asking you what you wanted with such a sincere look, caused tears to prick into your eyes. "No one has asked me that in a long time," you smiled, "I would love to do this, and more again with you Spencer. Whenever you want." He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down so you were lying next to each other on the bed. "Whenever we want" He corrected, cuddling into you.

You surveyed the bite make you left on his shoulder, running your hand over it. "Sorry for marking you up, I didn't mean to hurt you." You said softly as he blushed. "I-I was actually wondering... well... could you maybe give me a hickey? I like that you marked me." He said. You obliged him, giving him long kisses and sucks, gradually working up your force until a large purple bruise had formed on his collar bone. He was gently moaning the whole time, but you didn't want to work him up again as he had already cum twice that night and you didn't think he could handle more. He looked down at it as you pulled away, and you could see a question lingering on his mind.

"What's up?" you asked, smoothing his hair with your hand. "You said you hadn't been asked what you want in a long time, and I was wondering, well... who gave you your piercings?" he asked tentatively and you laughed." You have been reading my book too much, how many chapters have you read?" You said and he looked up at you surprised."You knew? and... well... only 3 chapters. I didn't want to pry into your private life." He said. "You just pried enough to know I want to get pierced by someone?" You asked raising an eyebrow. Before he could get an excuse out, you cut him off. "Well for a genius, you obviously didn't read it that carefully. I said I WOULD like to be pierced during sex, meaning I have not before. These are just standard piercings from a piercing shop, not a big deal, I just like the way they look." You said and he let out a sigh of relief. "Why? d'you get jealous?" you questioned him. He looked down and nodded shyly.

"I can be a lot of firsts for you but if you play your cards right, you can be a lot of firsts for me too. You already gave me a first tonight. You called me mommy. No one's done that before but it was really hot. I liked it a lot." You said matter of factly. "But that is a conversation for another day. It is 2 am and we need to be on a flight at 7:30, so let's get some sleep." You said, turning off the lights and cuddling up close to him. In a matter of seconds, you both were asleep, tangled into each other's arms, both of you feeling, for once, safe and sound.

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

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Well wasn't that a doozy. I had so much fun writing that and I think it paid off for sure. Shoot me a message if you want to be added to my beloved tag list, speaking of which.

@spencer-reids-slut @ya-triedit @reidstoychest @flipperpenguins @thatsonezesty13 @jbbarnes-loki @big-galaxy-chaos

[angelhotchner]

The Glory of Sunshine - Chapter Fourteen

I'm back...ish! I'm so sorry that this fic went from a chapter every night to waiting over a week for this one - I've been super busy with my jobs IRL and haven't had time to write. Thanks for sticking around guys <3

Also, this case isn't fictional which is why it took extra time to write. I was planning on making up a case but found myself writing my own trauma lmao.

Names and locations have been changed, but this is my own case just as a warning.

A03.

Story Masterlist

You’ve never been one to want to be fixed. You’d rather try and fix other people, protect them and nourish them back to who they’ve always wanted to be. Their caretaker. Two thousand miles away from home in a new city, with a new job, and seven new faces to decode and decipher, your attention seems to be slowly wrapping up with one of them. Are you falling in love, Y/N?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader Additional Tags: Very slow burn, Pining Contains: Adult Language, Fluff, Smut, Heartbreak CM Timeline: AU begins after Haley and Hotch’s divorce. Some cases within this story are not canon. WC: 2.7K

Chapter Fourteen

Emily met you with a fresh coffee, made perfectly, and a sorrowful smile as you stepped out of the elevator on Monday morning.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you so much at lunch yesterday,” She sighed as she walked with you through the glass doors and into the BAU bullpen. You shrugged with a soft, forgiving grin as you raised the coffee cup to your lips, savouring the taste of the first few swigs.

“Don’t worry about it,” You giggled, nudging her with your elbow. She returned the grin and sat down at her desk, opposite yours. “But I appreciate the sucking-up coffee,” You teased, taking another hearty gulp of the drink.

“...Yo, where’s mine?”

You both turned your heads to Derek as he sat down at his desk with a joking smirk on his face.

“Did I upset you yesterday?” Emily asked him and his face dropped a little, becoming more serious and sincere within seconds.

“What? No,” He said. “Why? What did you do?”

You bit back a smile as you watched Derek’s face twist from concern to complete bewilderment, as Emily stared at him with an expressionless face.

“Emily, what’s going on?”

Emily’s teeth shined as she finally caved in and laughed, with her head tilting back slightly as her throaty cackle filled the air.

“Then I don’t need to buy you a coffee,” She muttered with a chuckle as she looked down at the file on her desk.

“Wh--?” Derek huffed. He glanced at you, but your head was also bowed down with your eyes engrossed in the papers on your own desk.

“Women,” Derek mumbled, shaking his head at Reid. Reid stared blankly at him for a moment, before shrugging - obviously missing the entire last five minutes to a thick book on his desk.

At midday, you snapped a file full of paperwork shut and stood up, allowing your legs to stretch before making your way over to Hotch’s office. The door was ajar so you pushed it open softly, finding Hotch on the phone at his desk with a serious expression. The kind of expression that was reserved for cases.

“Did you raise an amber alert?”

You silently cursed. An amber alert meant a missing kid, and you hadn’t worked a case involving kids yet. The last two years had been everything from teenage budding psychopaths to serials, but no missing or harmed kids. The youngest victim that you’d come across so far had been seventeen.

You stepped into his office, your feet soft and quiet on the floor as you stood in front of his desk. He glanced up at you through his eyelashes, the phone pushed to his ear by his shoulder as he motioned for you to set the file in your hands down onto the desk.

“We’re on our way,”

He ended the call and stared at you, searching your face for any tell tale signs of worry because he knew. He knew that this was this case which was going to cut you deep the most and the vow that he made two years ago echoed into his mind. He was really going to keep an eye on you for these next few days.

“How?” You asked, but it came out as a whisper. You cleared your throat. “How old?”

“Two,”

There it was. A similarity. Something that you could relate to, but not for the best reasons. You nodded slowly, closing your eyes for a brief second to compose yourself.

“Shall I call everyone into the briefing room?”

“Yeah,” Hotch nodded, still keeping his eyes focused on you as you turned to leave the office. “L/N...Y/N, before you go…”

You paused beside the door, watching him over your shoulder.

“I’m fine,” You exclaimed, but Hotch shook his head.

“No, not that. I’m sorry that I overreacted yesterday,”

“Don’t worry about it,” You managed a small smile, before leaving the office and allowing your face to drop into a mixture of panic and worry.

You hadn’t been in Iowa City for longer than an hour when your phone started to buzz in your pocket. Apologising to Hotch and JJ, who were about to enter the police department, you stepped aside the door and leaned against the wall, accepting the call.

“Hey, angel,” Garcia’s voice soothed over the phone speaker. You instantly felt a little calmer.

“Hey, you,”

“This case is gonna be hard on you, huh?”

“...yeah,” You sighed.

“Well, honey, if you need to talk, you know my number,”

“Thanks, Penny,” You said, sincerely, as you ended the call and took in a deep breath before briskly entering the police department.

The case was difficult. Extremely difficult.

As JJ had briefed the team in the conference room before you left, Abigail Taylor had been missing for three hours. She was two years old, with brown eyes and the same hair colour as you. She was last seen wearing a long sleeved lilac shirt, blue jeans and white sneakers.

However, the Iowa City PD knew that her father had taken her. Ian Taylor had picked his daughter up from her mother’s house at 10am, as per usual to their custody agreement, to take Abigail out for the day. Ten minutes after Ian had left, he had left a voicemail on Abigail’s mother’s phone - only one sentence, less than ten seconds long, but Abigail’s mother had called the cops as soon as she heard it and, due to Ian Taylor’s history, the BAU had been called to assist.

You tried your best to hold back the tears as the voicemail played in the conference room.

“Remember Michael Miller? You’ll never see Abigail again,”

“Michael Miller?” Emily had asked when the voicemail ended.

“Michael Miller was a man from Des Moines who killed himself and his son when his ex-wife started dating a new guy,” Reid said, matter of factly, as he pushed his glasses further up on his nose.

“Ian Taylor’s mental stability has been going downbank for the last few years. We need to figure out where he’s taking her,”

Hotch, true to his personal vow, had barely taken his eyes away from you since arriving at the Police Department. He watched you intently, noticing how rigid your shoulders were as your eyes scanned the files in front of you, reading up on Ian Taylor’s background.

JJ was just outside the conference room in the PD, trying to comfort Abigail’s mother, Tracy, but all the woman could do was lean forward and hold her hair in her fists, pulling it at it tightly in fear. She’d already got a small bald patch near her left temple from ripping her hair out at the root.

“This guy has some issues,” Morgan mumbled as he threw a file into the middle of the table. “He has a restraining order against him since 2005 from his first wife - he said that he’d kill himself if she didn’t take him back,”

“Well, according to the detective, Tracy Taylor was going to file a restraining order too for stalking, but decided against it so Abigail wouldn’t lose out on seeing her father,” Emily commented. “And Tracy refused to press charges when he assaulted her a month ago,”

You’d stopped reading the file and your eyes stared at the board in front of you, with the photo of Abigail hung neatly. You stared at it for so long that the image was swaying in front of your eyes, the colours blurring into one, until a black suit covered her up.

“L/N?” Hotch asked, his voice soft which caught the attention of the team. You blinked a couple of times, before looking up at his face.

“This isn’t about Abigail,” You mumbled. “None of this is about Abigail - she’s just a weapon that he’s using. Everything is focused around Tracy. He’s pissed that she’s moved on,”

The team stayed silent as you stood up, slowly walking over to the board. Next to Abigail’s photo was Tracy’s and your eyes focused on it.

“Ian stalked her, assaulted her, but Tracy didn’t press charges. She refused to let it affect her. So he took Abigail as the only way to hurt Tracy,”

“Prentiss, interview Tracy Taylor with JJ. Write down locations that were significant within her and Ian’s relationship, he may be revisiting old memories with her,”

Emily left the room with a nod. You remained in front of the board, piecing together bits of information in your mind as you stared at Tracy’s photo.

Your eyes narrowed as a question crossed your mind, and you turned back towards the table, leaning over to dial Garcia’s number into the phone. Hotch’s gaze was burning into you.

“Information superhighway at your service, my fluffy duckling,”

“Hey Pen,” You greeted.

“What do you need, sugar?”

“Ian Taylor’s bank activity,”

“Ah, no luck, my love. His account’s been untouched for three days,”

“No, I’m not interested in outgoing transactions,”

Morgan raised an eyebrow as he watched you.

“What do you want me to look for?” Garcia asked.

“Incoming transactions. There’ll be someone who sends cash to him, it’ll be a regular thing,”

“Okay...erm..let me--woah,”

“What?”

“You’re right. There’s an account than sends him ten thousand dollars every month,”

“Who’s the account registered to, Penny?”

“Simon Taylor,”

Reid and Rossi rushed off to interview Ian’s father, Simon, leaving Morgan, Hotch and you behind. JJ and Emily were still interviewing Tracy, Morgan was leaning back in his chair throwing a ball of paper in the air as he thought, and Hotch was sitting at the head of the table with his eyes completely focused on you.

He was silently begging to know what was going on in your mind right now - what you were thinking, how you were feeling - and, if Morgan hadn't have been in the room, he’d have sat down next to you to take stock of you. But he was reduced to just watching you, to try and figure out your brain on his own, as you zoned out to try and piece together parts of Ian Taylor.

His father regularly sent him money. He couldn’t hold down a steady job with his mental instability, so someone had to be looking after him, and chances were that Simon Taylor would do anything to protect his son. Maybe even help him to avoid the cops and the FBI.

Reid and Rossi returned half an hour later with Simon Taylor walking closely behind them.

“He says that he knows nothing, but we’re keeping him here so he can’t help to hide Abigail and Ian,”

Your gaze landed on the photo of Abigail once again. You studied her face, her eyes, her smile - her bright, innocent smile that brought you back to the night before your third birthday. The night that you saw the spilled paint on the floor of the living room and you rubbed your hands in it, creating a mural of red handprints over the white walls of your house...then seeing your Mom covered in paint and your father holding a knife covered in paint, too. Why did Daddy paint with a knife? You use a brush! You shuddered as the memory faded.

“She’s just a baby,” You murmured. “She’s just a fucking baby,” Your voice raised a little louder as you stood up from your seat.

“L/N?” Rossi asked gently, but you shook your head at him. You walked over to the door of the conference room, yanking it open and shooting a glance to Hotch over your shoulder.

“Can you watch?”

Hotch nodded, wordless, as he followed you out of the door. You entered the interrogation room alone, Hotch watching from the other side of the glass.

Calmly, you sat down in front of Simon, watching him for a few seconds before you decided to speak. You understood him like the back of your hand within those few seconds. Rich, cold, calculating. A disconnect to the world that existed outside of the compounds of his family and his own comfort - but a strong protective aura radiated from him and you knew that it only concerned his son.

“Your son is planning to commit suicide,” You said, matter of factly. Simon, on the surface, appeared unsurprised and expressionless, but you saw a flicker of something fearful in his eyes. Maybe this time, his son will actually go through with it. Maybe this will be the day that he will lose his son.

“It wouldn’t be the first time, Miss…?”

“L/N. Agent L/N,”

“Agent L/N,” Simon’s eyebrows raised at your correction, as if he was shocked that you had dared to correct him, but he kept his face in that same expressionless stare.

“He’s going to kill himself and your granddaughter in his car,”

Simon watched you and, although his face remained calm, the nail on his right index finger had slowly begun to scratch the top of the table.

“Ian Taylor will poison himself and his daughter in his car. Do you know what happens when you breathe in too much carbon monoxide?”

Simon remained silent, although his back straightened up and he leaned forward - only by a mere few centimetres but a tell of interest nonetheless.

“When you inhale carbon monoxide, it combines with haemoglobin which formulates carboxyhemoglobin. This reduces the flow of oxygen. It causes seizures and, eventually, death,”

You leaned forward towards him, your eyes staring directly into his without so much as a waver.

“Your son, your precious flesh and blood, and your two-year old innocent granddaughter will slowly stop breathing. Their lungs will burn, they’ll throw up, they’ll barely be able to move. The blood vessels in their eyes will burst open. They’ll be unable to stop the process...and they’ll die,”

Simon gulped.

“At first, it’ll feel like they’ve got the flu. But then when they start convulsing and your son becomes terrified and wants to change his mind, he’ll be too weak to stop the carbon monoxide,”

You paused.

“Your grand-daughter will never go to school. She’ll never learn how to read. She’ll never live her life the way that we hope our children and our grand-children will live. She will never reach her third birthday. Why?”

“I don’t know,” Simon choked out. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, they were glassy and remorseful.

“You know something, though, don’t you, Mr Taylor?”

“I saw them at midday. Ian came to the house with Abi, he said his car had broken down and that he needed to take my old land rover,”

“We need the license plate,”

“I didn’t see the news until after he’d left, but it made no sense. I thought it was Tracy being dramatic - trying to set Ian off or something,” He sniffed. For a moment, he stared at the table before giving you a pointed look, the tears quickly evaporating from the waterlines of his eyes. “How do you know what he’s planning?”

“He left Tracy a voicemail,”

“What? A voicemail? Can I hear it? You might have got this all wrong, you know. My son would never hurt his daughter,”

“The plate, Mr Taylor,” You said as you grabbed a small notepad and a pen from the inside pocket of your jacket, sliding them across the table to him. Simon scribbled the digits down and slid the paper back towards you. You left without another word, Hotch following quickly behind you as you flopped the notepad onto the desk in the conference room.

“Ian’s switched vehicles. Put an APB out on this plate and call Garcia,” Hotch commanded. Morgan grabbed the paper and left the room, his phone already dialling Garcia’s number.

-----

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[spencers-renaissance]

tell me how to balance my coins

Summary: When Spencer falls down the stairs one morning he decides not to tell anyone, his insecurities about not being enough winning out. Too bad insecurities don't matter when they end up trekking through miles of barren land on a search and rescue mission, and his injuries finally become too much. The team knows exactly how to make it better.

Tags: hurt!spencer, whump, hurt/comfort, hiding medical issues, insecurity, angst with a happy ending, fluff, team as family TW: self-esteem issues

Pairing: GEN / Spencer Reid & Derek Morgan

Word Count: 3.2k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

Set in S1 but there's no Gideon because he didn't really fit the plot, so it's just the five other field agents here. This entire fic was inspired by this post by @i-write-whump so credit goes to them for the premise! Title from this poem by Zahraa Surtee <3

Maybe it’s embarrassment that stops him from telling the team. Spencer runs headfirst into dangerous situations every day, puts his life on the line repeatedly and escapes unscathed more often than not, but his nemesis this time is the single flight of stairs in his apartment building he descends each morning.

He’s later than he usually is, and already feeling a little flustered from both his toaster and coffee machine breaking, leaving him with a cup of instant coffee and an overripe banana from breakfast, which only makes the situation worse. As if lying sprawled out in a public stairwell wasn’t bad enough. He gingerly pulls himself up, catching a glimpse of a “Caution: Wet Floor” sign he somehow missed, and winces as pain floods his body.

His ankle is screaming at him, throbbing and burning, and for a moment Spencer has to close his eyes against the gut-wrenching pain of a twisted ankle flaring up his calf. A couple of thankfully undisturbed minutes later, the pain eases enough for him to open his eyes and inspect the damage. It’s already swelling slightly, and he’s certain he’ll be covered in bruises by tonight if the aching of his entire body is anything to go by.

For a brief moment he considers calling Derek or Penelope or someone else on his team; maybe even calling in sick, but he quickly pushes that thought away. It’s not embarrassment that stops him from telling the team. It’s a good cover story to keep him from addressing the real reason, but it isn’t the truth.

The truth is that the only time he ever feels valuable is when he’s contributing to a case. That cruel voice in the back of his head will waste no time in piping up, telling him how worthless he is, what a burden his friends see him as, how insignificant he is to the team if he doesn’t suck it up and head into work.

Fighting back the tears burning hot behind his eyes with ardent determination, he drags himself up by the stair handrail until he’s upright. His ribs ache and his ankle burns something fierce, but he compartmentalises it, breathing deeply and taking a few tentative steps, one at a time until he’s limping towards the train station.

The moment he walks into the bullpen, JJ grabs his elbow. “You’re just in time, Spence,” she says, marching towards the briefing room with a pace Spencer can’t quite keep up with. “We have a new case. Rural Kentucky.”

Everyone’s already seated at the round table, and no matter how much he tries to disguise his limp, putting far too much weight on his battered ankle, he can’t get it past a room full of profilers.

“Hey, pretty boy, you alright? You’re limping.” Derek’s tone is light, carrying the cadence of joking banter, but he can see the concern in his eyes, and that’s just unacceptable. He can’t have people worrying about him: he’s not worth their pitied looks or vapid attempts at comfort, especially not when they have a far more important case to be focusing on.

He slips into a seat, and manages to conceal a wince at the movement of his ankle swinging forward. “Oh, uh, I just stubbed my toe pretty hard on the way in.” It’s not convincing even to his own ears, but luckily it’s enough of a time-sensitive case for JJ to barrel on regardless, drawing everyone’s worried glances away from him and towards the board full of grizzly crime scene photos.

Even though he’s been on the team for close to three years now, he still feels like the new kid. Elle is newer than him, but she’s still far more confident in her place on the team than he is. He suspects that’s probably because someone like Elle doesn’t have trouble fitting in anywhere. It’s never been quite that easy for Spencer.

Pushing his insecurities aside like he always has to do in these meetings, he reads the case file thoroughly before offering his own contributions. The unsub is snatching young women from bars and clubs and holding them for weeks before leaving them to succumb to the elements in the rural countryside of Kentucky. With a missing woman and the expected deadline for the unsub dumping her fast approaching, they don’t waste any time in boarding the jet and flying the short way to West Kentucky.

It’s a short enough flight that there’s no time for personal conversation — no time for Derek (or anyone else for that matter) to confront him about his blatant lie and obvious injury — since they spend the whole journey discussing the case. Thankfully, throwing himself head first into theories and hypotheses keeps his mind off the pain a bit, but he can’t fully keep it from bothering him.

He’s just thankful that he has enough experience in disguising his true emotions that no-one’s attention is drawn to him by poorly hidden winces.

They dive straight into the investigation when they arrive at the sheriff’s station, everyone laser focused on finding Marissa Williams. By mid-afternoon, though, Spencer’s gritting his teeth as he forces himself to persevere through the pain despite it increasing incrementally every hour, and he curses himself for not being able to dedicate 100% of himself to the case. If he can’t help everyone find this woman, then what is he good for? His stomach twists at the thought.

“You gonna tell me what’s really going on, Spence?” Derek asks him as it approaches 4pm, cornering him at the coffee machine.

Spencer looks around as subtly as he can for an escape, but he quickly succumbs to his fate. “I’m fine, Derek,” he promises. It’s so far from the truth he wants to cry.

The concern in Derek’s eyes only intensifies at that. “Seriously? You’ve been quiet this whole case, I catch you wincing when you think no-one’s looking, and you’re still limping. A stubbed toe wouldn’t do that, kid, and you know it.”

He sighs, knowing the jig is up. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, Derek.” He’s not sure it’s the truth, but it’s close enough to it that it doesn’t bring burning tears to the backs of his eyes.

Derek’s about to say something when JJ calls out for him. They both turn to look at her, Spencer feeling relief flood his chest, while Derek’s expression quickly morphs into one of frustration, sighing heavily as he curls his hands into tight fists.

“This isn’t over,” he says, levelling him with a serious look before walking back over to JJ, leaving Spencer to stir his bitter coffee in peace. It definitely doesn’t make him want to cry.

They finally get a break in the case at nightfall, a call on the tip line combined with their profile leading them to a secluded wooded area down by a small river. Knowing there’s nothing more for them to do at the office, Hotch gathers them all up, insisting they join the search party to find the poor, beaten woman currently suffering exposure, awaiting their rescue.

Spencer’s heart sinks as everyone gathers their equipment, and he’s almost relieved when Derek speaks up.

“Reid can’t go,” he insists to Hotch, only barely in earshot of Spencer. If he doesn’t go out in the rescue party, then he’s still served his purpose hasn’t he? He helped with the profile that narrowed down the area she’s likely to be in, he worked the case until this point, he can rest and still be worth something. Right?

Besides, it’s not exactly like he can don the heavy walking boots everyone else is pulling on. If he goes out, he’ll have to wear the same loafers that have been squeezing his swelling joint all day, and that’s hardly going to work. Hotch will let him stay back, and for once, he’ll accept the rest he’s offered.

His hope is quickly dashed. “We need all the manpower we can get,” Hotch says, clearly distracted in the same way he has been throughout the entire case. Spencer likes his boss but he has a tendency to wear blinkers when on a job, not noticing anything that doesn’t pertain to the ultimate solution. “He’ll be fine.”

Derek sighs again, clearly frustrated.

“I’ll be fine,” he says as Derek comes over to sit with him, not sure who he’s trying to convince. His ankle is still burning in pain. The last time he checked it, it was bruised and swollen, tender to the touch. It’s nothing short of a nasty sprain.

“You stick close to me, Spencer. I mean it.”

He can’t help the small smile that crosses his face, genuine happiness warming his heart at the concerned protectiveness of his friend. “Sure, Derek,” he says softly.

The pleasant temperature of the mid-Spring day drops to almost freezing as the sun sets, the moon and stars taking over the clear night sky. Even Spencer’s thickest coat isn’t enough to keep him from practically vibrating with the force of his shivers as they trek across the miles of terrain, staying as quiet as possible to listen for anything that could indicate their victim’s whereabouts. They’re spread out a little, but for the most part they all walk reasonably close together, the beams of their torches criss-crossing as they fight their way through the windy countryside.

Thankfully, it’s only a couple of hours into the search and rescue mission that a call crackles over the radio, telling them that Marissa had been found, beaten and weak but alive. Spencer can’t even bring himself to feel any kind of victory or relief, nothing being able to penetrate the haze of pain he’s in. Everyone else chatters happily enough as they converge back together for his silence to go mostly unnoticed.

His obscurity doesn’t last long, though.

“Are you ever gonna tell us what happened to your foot, Spence?” JJ asks, raising an eyebrow at Spencer’s heavy limping and Derek’s worried hovering. By the second mile of their walk, Spencer had given up trying to hide the limp, instead focusing on gritting his teeth and breathing through the pain as it flares up his leg.

She’s clearly voicing what everyone else is thinking, judging by their worried expressions. Part of him wants to give in and tell the team, but the part that wants to continue to hide his embarrassment away, the part riddled with fear and insecurity wins out. He stubbornly shakes his head, closing his eyes tightly. In the kind of terrible timing so emblematic of the life of Spencer Reid, in the short second he has his eyes closed he manages to stumble into a small divot in the ground, and he trips, twisting his ankle all over again as he falls down.

His vision whites out, the pain suddenly all-consuming, punching nausea through his stomach and he can’t help the cry he lets escape as he lays helplessly in the grass.

“Spencer!”

Derek crouches next to him, laying a hand on his shoulder as he checks him over frantically, and Spencer can’t help but lean up into it, craving the kind of comfort he can only get from his best friend. Hotch joins them quickly as JJ and Elle stand close enough to offer support without crowding him.

“That’s it, Spencer,” Hotch says firmly, blinkers well and truly off by now, “you need to tell us what’s going on.”

As the blinding pain slowly fades into something minutely more bearable, Spencer forces his eyes open to face the team. “I fell down the stairs this morning,” he finally admits, sullen and teary. “Pretty sure I sprained my ankle.”

Hotch wastes no time in gently rolling his trouser leg up, exposing his ruined loafers and the bruised, swollen joint to the torches of his teammates. Derek audibly winces as he positions himself behind Spencer, supporting his back as his tired, aching body starts to collapse.

Hotch levels him with a stern glare after he finishes his tender inspection of his ankle. “Spencer, it was incredibly irresponsible to hide something like this. You not only put yourself in danger, but you put the rest of the team at risk, too—”

He doesn’t get any further in his lecture before the tears he’s been holding back all day, finally spill over and a dry, sudden sob, his bruised and aching rib cage heaving as he starts to unravel at the seams. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

Softening immediately, Hotch puts his leg down gently and shuffles closer, taking Spencer’s hand in his. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m sorry for yelling,” he says soothingly, watching as Spencer presses closer into Derek’s hold. “You’re not in trouble, I’m just worried about you, Spencer. Why didn’t you tell us you were hurt?”

He squeezes his eyes closed again: it’s as much dignity as he can hope for when his face is crumpling and he’s sobbing on the cold, hard ground as it nears midnight. “I just… I just wanted to be worth something.” It’s an admission he’ll regret later, he already knows that, but he’s so so tired and all he wants is the comfort that only his team can provide.

Derek pulls him into an even tighter hug before anyone can react, holding him against his chest fiercely while his hand plays gently with his hair. “Spencer, you are worth something whether you’re injured or fully intact, you hear me? We’d love you with a broken leg, with a bad case of the flu, if you quit the team tomorrow and decided to never work again. But most importantly, we love you now, kid. No matter what. Nothing can change that, alright?”

“He’s right, Spence,” JJ says softly, sinking to the ground along with Elle. “I know you think we only tolerate you because of your brain and what you bring to the table on a case, but you’re so much more than that. We love your nerdy rambles and your awkward waves and the way you love so openly and protectively, no matter how many times you’ve been hurt before. We love everything about you, Spencer.”

“Yeah, if you’re hurt, Reid, we wanna know,” Elle chimes in, sounding a little hesitant as the one who’s known him the shortest amount of time, but firm in what she’s saying nonetheless. “I know I haven’t been on the team that long but this is a group of people that watches out for one another, that supports each other, that builds everyone up leaving no person behind. That includes you, Spencer Reid, even when you don’t feel like it.”

“Everyone is right, Spencer,” Hotch says softly, still holding his cold and shaking hand protectively in his gloved one. “I’m just sad that you still prioritise your work over your own health. You are not this job. You are an incredibly talented and multi-faceted person that oftentimes needs a little TLC, and until you’re willing and able to do that for yourself, we’ll be here to do it for you, okay?”

Tears are streaming down his face as he nods, feeling warmer than he has all day despite the cold dark night they’ve found themselves in. The strangest part about it all is that he’s actually starting to believe them. It’s not like they haven’t all said similar things before, but hearing them all vehemently corroborating each other’s stories, hearing it all laid out in front of him as they promise him with earnest expressions that they’re telling the truth is doing something to shift the leaden weight of insecurity and low self-esteem that presses on his chest each and every day.

“Now, come on,” Derek says. “Let’s get back to base and I’ll go with you to the hospital to get you checked out, make sure it’s nothing more than a sprain.”

He shifts behind Spencer, using his already firm hold on his waist to help gently pull him up to a standing position, taking most of his weight as Spencer whimpers at the pain that swiftly reignites at the movement.

Derek turns around and bends at the knees slightly as Spencer leans on Hotch, before looking over his shoulder, his signature grin returning. “Hop on, pretty boy.”

“What— Derek! I’m way too heavy!”

Everyone immediately breaks out in amused laughter, even Hotch chuckling fondly.

Derek rolls his eyes. “Come on, Spencer, you’ve gotta weigh what, like, 140lbs? 150? You can’t exactly walk on that ankle anymore and it’s the only way we’re getting back without calling for a search and rescue team of our own.”

“Reid, I’m pretty sure I could give you a piggy-back ride,” Elle points out, raising her eyebrows. “Just let him carry you back.”

Let us take care of you is implicit enough in everyone’s words and expressions that it doesn’t really need to be said, but Spencer hears it anyway.

Hotch helps him up onto Derek’s back and they begin the long trek towards the search and rescue base, and Spencer’s never appreciated the easy banter they all share more. Hotch is visibly relaxed with the case solved and his youngest team member soon to be taken care of, so he joins in with the conversation, his light and happy expression that he only ever wears around his family or the team on rare days and nights off, replacing his focused frown.

Spencer clings on tightly to Derek and presses his face into the space between his neck and his shoulder, closing his eyes as he listens to the conversation, the vibration of Derek’s laugh and the shameless flirting between Elle and JJ taking his mind off the pain that throbs in his ankle with each step Derek takes.

When they finally get back to base, they all gather round the ambulance that’s been designated to take Spencer and Derek to the hospital.

JJ steps forward to give him a hug first. “Love you, Spence. Let us know what they say, okay?”

Hotch surprises him by stepping forward and wrapping him in a hug as well, forgoing the macho pats on the back for a short but close embrace that feels fatherly enough for tears to prick the back of Spencer’s eyes. “We all love you, Spencer. Remember that okay. And actually listen to what the doctors tell you. Morgan, you’re my eyes and ears.”

“Well now I want a hug, too,” Elle says dramatically, squeezing him in a tight embrace for just a moment before stepping back, lining up with JJ and Hotch to present a united front of people on his side.

“We’ll see you both in the morning,” Hotch says as the paramedic starts prepping for the journey, moving Spencer onto the gurney and rolling him in.

“Hope they don’t keep you too long!” JJ calls just as the doors close, making them both chuckle.

Derek takes his hand in both of his, staying out of the paramedic’s way as she quickly places a line of mild painkillers before sitting back, knowing that there’s not anything more she can do for Spencer until they get to the hospital.

Derek must see the anxious look on Spencer’s face, because he’s quick to reach a hand out and brush his cheek gently. “Hey, I’ll be with you the whole time. I’m not gonna leave you on your own, okay? You’ll be alright, pretty boy, you’re gonna be just fine. I promise.”

And on the flight home the next morning he realises that Derek’s promise was kept. He’s fitted out with a crutch and a temporary wrapping around his ankle, resting comfortably with his head in Derek’s lap while his foot sits elevated on a pile of cushions carefully built by JJ, surrounded by people who swear up and down that they love him while proving it to him in a thousand little ways, and he’s really not sure it gets any more alright than that.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @temily @jellejareau @reidology @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @tobias-hankel @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @sbeno22 @im-autistic-not-stupid (taglist form)

[scripts4dreamers]

I literally JUST sat down, pt.3

Part One, Part Two, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi. Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

(Longer one this time! As always, let me know if you want to get tagged in the next part.)

—————————-

“I hate this,” you whined, as Garcia pulled you through the crowded streets, “why didn’t we drive straight to the office, again?”

“Because, my little Grumpy Gus, you look like you barely slept, and this place has the best coffee in the city.” She promised, giving your arm a squeeze.

You grumbled under your breath, but didn’t complain, letting Garcia ply you with endless cups of coffee.

“Are we getting for the whole team?” You asked, your mind drifting to your late night message to Spencer.

Garcia paused, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, “Yeeeeees, why?”

You shrugged, “I was just asking. No need to read into anything.”

“This is about Spencer, I can tell. Spill it.”

You groaned, letting your head thump down onto the table, “How do you do that?”

“I’m a veritable fountain of knowledge, Y/N, you know this,” she teased, “plus I speak fluent Y/N, especially the little known Spencer Reid dialect.”

“Witch!” You said accusingly, “You’re a witch!”

“You flatter me,” she winked, tapping your forearm, “now spill it.”

You sighed, taking another sip of your coffee, “It’s nothing, I just-I messaged him, alright?”

“You did what?”

“I messaged him! And it was stupid and he didn’t even respond, so it’s not important.” You explained, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Penelope gasped, “He didn’t respond?”

You shook your head, “Nope. Nothing, look-“

You took out your phone and glanced briefly at the screen, frowning when you spotted the notification from the night before. You swiped up, your eyes tracing his response. Something in your stomach pinched.

“Huh.”

“What?” Penelope asked, “What is it? You’re legally obligated to tell me, it’s in the rules.”

“He-uh-“ you stared at the screen, still frowning, “he responded. I must’ve fallen asleep…”

“Ooohhh my gosh, what does it say? What did you say? Is it romantic?”

You pressed your lips together, your mind whirling at a thousand miles an hour as you try to figure exactly what Spencer meant by “I did.”.

“It’s-“ you shook your head, “I don’t know really.”

Something in your tone must’ve let on how conflicted you were feeling because Penelope let the matter slide, just giving your arm a comforting squeeze.

“Let’s get to work, Sugar,” she said, standing and extending her hand for you to hold, “we’ve got crimes to solve.”

You gave her a weak smile but let her pull you to your feet, trying to force your mind away from Spencer and back onto your case.

“That we do, Garcia, that we do.”

——————————-

“We come bearing gifts,” Garcia announced as she pushed open the door to the BAU, “sustenance in the form of sweet, sweet caffeine.”

Your eyes instantly flew to Spencer, giving him a weak smile which, to your intense relief, he returned. You also noticed, with a rush of fondness, that he’d kept your side of the desk clear.

“Garcia you’re an angel,” Emily smiled, pushing away from her desk to accept a cup.

“Speaking of angels,” you sighed, carrying a cup of coffee flavored sugar over to Spencer and taking your seat next to him, “have we got an ID on our victim yet?”

“Marcus Wilcox,” Spencer said, flipping open the file closest to you, “25 year old drug addict and male prostitute. He went missing two weeks ago and was reported missing by his best friend.”

You glanced over at the picture of the man whose body had been left in your bookstore and felt the familiar pang of sorrow in your chest. There was always going to be another one, another life cut short, another dead son or daughter who’s family would grieve their loss for years. It was enough to put a damper on anyone’s morning.

You could feel eyes on you, heavy and questioning and you found you couldn’t look up to meet their gaze.

“Anything unusual in the M.E.’s report?” You asked, still avoiding the eyes.

“All the mutilation was done postmortem, so that rules out sadism as a motive,” JJ suggested, accepting a cup of coffee gratefully.

“High levels of caffeine in the blood too,” Emily pointed out, “and…” she pressed her lips together.

“What, Em?” You asked.

She looked up at you nervously, something like sympathy in her eyes as she said, “Biscuits, in his stomach. They found brown butter biscuits and coffee in his stomach.”

Your blood froze and you felt a rush of nausea. You put your cup down, suddenly not thirsty anymore.

“Is...that significant, somehow?” Hotch asked, his perpetual frown firmly in place.

“They’re the best sellers at Y/N’s coffee shop,” Spencer said, something off in his voice, “she sells them fresh every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.”

You looked over, shocked, and noticed that Spencer was working his jaw, like he was angry, his one hand curled into a fist under his chin. You itched to reach out and touch his forearm, like you once would have, but you restrained yourself.

“What the hell is this guy doing?” Emily asked, “Why go through all this trouble to personalize the crime? What’s driving him?”

“It’s gotta be erotomania, right?” Morgan asked, “Someone’s trying to get Y/N’s attention.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” you insisted, frustrated with having the same conversation again and again, “stalkers don’t start off with an elaborate and expertly executed murder. If it was erotomania, why not call first, or email or leave notes at my apartment? There’s been no build up to this sort of violence.”

“Plus, the victim has no connection to Y/N,” Spencer pointed out, “erotomaniacs want to reinforce their supposed devotion to the object of their affection, if he wanted to do that he would’ve picked someone Y/N knew, like an ex-boyfriend or an enemy of some kind.”

“Some who he thinks Y/N would actually want dead,” Emily agreed.

“Reid and Y/L/N are right, there’s something more to this, something we’ve missed,” Hotch said, “Garcia, I want you to go through everything you can find about Marcus Wilcox and see if he came into Y/N’s store at all. Maybe he’s a customer who was rude and offended the UnSub. After that, comb through Y/L/N’s life again; old friends, high school classmates, college professors, agents she worked with on cases, anyone who could have formed an attachment and been stalking her without us knowing.”

Garcia paled under her Barbie pink lipstick, “Sir, I-“

“It’s fine, Garcia,” you assured, giving her a soft smile, “I’ve got nothing to hide. You’ll have to get permission from the CIA to access some of my case files though, there’s some sensitive data in those.”

“I’ll call the director myself,” Hotch said, “that’ll expedite the process.”

“But, sir, sorting through all that data could take weeks,” you pointed out, “what do we do in the meantime?”

Hotch pressed his lips together, and you sighed, sensing his next words before they even came out of his mouth.

“We work cases, as usual,” he said, “Y/N, yours will still be our priority but, until we get a new lead…”

“We’re stuck.” You finished. You breathed in, trying to calm your restless nerves, and pushed yourself up, “Well, it was lovely seeing you guys again, but I guess that’s my cue.”

“What?” Spencer said, sitting up suddenly, “No, Y/N you can’t just leave, if there’s someone out there delusional enough to do this to get your attention then it’s not safe.”

“I’m with Boy Wonder,” Garcia agreed, shooting you an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, Sugar Plum but this whole thing is just icky and gross and I’d feel much better knowing you were here.”

You looked around, but we’re met with a wall of concerned faces. You wanted to scream. Nothing about this situation was fair. You hated feeling helpless, it was why you’d joined the FBI in the first place and, ultimately, why you’d left.

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do while we wait for a lead?” You asked, “I can’t go home, I can’t go back to work, I can’t just sit here all day until my assigned babysitter for the night is free.”

“You could join us on cases,” Hotch said simply, “if I’m not mistaken, you’re still officially an agent so you’re cleared to be in the field.”

Spencer and Emily sucked in a breath in unison, and you shut your eyes. Shit.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Emily asked, “You never actually resigned?”

You shot her a sheepish look, “I meant to! I did! It was just,” you shrugged, “at first I wanted the safety blanket in case normal life didn’t work out and, once it did, I just-“ you trailed off.

Truth be told, you didn’t know why you’d never left. It was really only one document that you needed to sign, it would take less than three minutes to complete, there was nothing stopping you. You’d even filled it out once or twice but, for some reason, you always stopped before actually submitting it.

You shot a nervous look at Spencer, who was determinedly avoiding looking at anything except a particular patch of empty air, and sighed.

“So...what does that mean?” Morgan asked, “You’re back on the team?”

“Agent Y/L/N has technically been on an extended sabbatical for the past year,” Hotch explained, “ideally we would be able to keep her on in an advisory capacity while we work her case but, with her safety being such an issue, for the time being, yes, she’s back on the team.”

——————————-

You collapsed into your old seat on the jet, exhaustion weighing you down like a ton of bricks. It had taken almost no time for Hotch and Garcia to brief you on the team’s newest case and, before you could even pack a proper Go-Bag, you were wheels up and on your way to Tampa Bay. It was a fairly standard case, or as standard as it got for the BAU at least, and it had only taken three days to catch the guy, but it had still taken the life right out of you. Hotch had noticed your distress and sent you ahead to the jet with Rossi while the rest of the team finished packing up. On the one hand you resented being treated like a child, on the other….well, you were exhausted.

Rossi sat down across the aisle from you, handing you a mug of warm hot chocolate, which you accepted gratefully. He raised his eyebrows in that grandfatherly way, like he was asking you a question, and you smiled.

“What?” You asked, “I can tell you’re thinking something.”

“You love this” he said simply.

“Love it?” You laughed incredulously, “Rossi I haven’t been this tired since I spent three full days setting up my shop. I’m exhausted.”

“And you love it,” he insisted, “I can see that Evil Genius sparkle in those pretty eyes of yours.” He gestured at your face and you smiled, “Not that I blame you. Catching killers tends to be more exciting than baking cookies.”

“Hey, I thought you loved it when I made cookies!” You complained, whacking his hand away in mock outrage, “You said they were your favorite!”

“They are, I’m just making a simple observation, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” you said suspiciously.

“Here’s another one; there’s tension between you and the Good Doctor,” he continued.

You rolled your eyes, but didn’t disagree, letting your mind wander back to the last three days. After Hotch’s little announcement to the team, things had been...odd with Spencer. Actually, you couldn’t be sure that was the catalyst, for all you knew things could’ve been weird before that but, now it was just impossible to miss. He would bounce between avoiding you like the plague and actively seeking out your company; sitting next to you at dinner one minute and then purposely standing as far away as possible the next minute. It sucked. It sucked and it hurt your feelings and it was confusing, so there was no point in denying it to Rossi.

“I just wish he’d talk to me, you know?” You said, “Or yell, or shout or something. Like, if you’re angry then be angry. At least then we could talk it out, but this-“ you shook your head, “I hate it.”

“Ah, kid,” Rossi commiserated, patting your knee comfortingly, “I don’t think he’s angry, and that’s probably part of the problem.” You looked up, confused, and Rossi continued, “If he was angry, things would be a lot simpler. Like you said, you could just yell for a bit, and then it’d be over. No, I think Spencer’s just hurt and confused. He blames himself for you leaving and, now that you’re back, he’s happy, but he feels guilty about being happy because you’re in danger.” He explained, “It’s a confusing time for him, for you both.”

You sat up, “Wait why would he blame himself for me leaving?”

Rossi looked down, like he was thinking hard but, before he could say anything, you heard footsteps and the rest of your team boarded the jet. You shot Rossi a look that said “we’ll finish this later”, and then turned away, smiling at your friends.

“Hey,” you greeted, letting Morgan ruffle your hair.

JJ gave you a small smile, but your eyes went straight to Spencer, Rossi’s words bouncing around inside your head. To your surprise, he collapsed into the seat beside you.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I-uh-I was hoping we could talk.”

Your heart leapt, but you tried to keep your face neutral as you answered, “Sure thing, Reid. What about? The case?”

“Actually,” he said, his voice still low, “I wanted to talk about you.”

You pressed your lips together, but nodded, following Spencer’s lead and leaning in to avoid being overheard as your team settled in for the flight home.

Spencer was silent for a moment, like he was thinking, and then, “Why didn’t you resign? I thought you wanted out.”

“I did, or I thought I did. Reid, when I first left I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I guess I wanted to be able to come back if things went wrong.” You explained.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You paused for a moment, “Spence-“

His breath hitched in his throat, “The first time, when you were thinking about leaving. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I-“ you sighed, the exhaustion rolling over you like a river, “I didn’t want to worry you until I was sure and then, after that….” you shrugged, “it all happened so fast. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, like he understood, and you watched some of the tension leech out of his body. For the first time he met your eye, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“I’m sorry too.” He said.

“Spence you’ve got nothing to-“

“I do,” he interrupted, “I promised you that we’d always be best friends and then, after you left, I just stopped trying.”

You were conflicted. Some part of you had been longing to hear this for months, ever since the texts, visits and calls had stopped out of the blue but, now that you were actually hearing it, it just made you sad.

“You did try,” you reminded him, “you came to the store a few times, helped me organize my books.”

He shook his head, “Not often enough. It just-it just got so hard, you know? Seeing you every weekend and knowing you weren’t going to be there when I got to work the next day,” he explained, his voice cracking, “watching you have this whole life outside of us, it just started to feel like maybe I didn’t fit-maybe we didn’t fit.” He gestured to the team, “And I thought maybe you were better off-“ he trailed off.

“Hey,” you cut in, reaching out and covering his hand with yours, “hey, listen to me. You guys are my family. You’ll always be my family, no matter what happens. I’m sorry you ever felt like anything else was even possible. I could never be better off without you guys.”

The hint of a smile played at the edges of his mouth, and he squeezed your hand gently.

“If it’s okay,” he said, still smiling hopefully, “I’d really like for us to be friends again. I know I broke a solemn oath but, if you’ll trust me, I’ll never let it happen again, I promise.”

Your smile felt so wide that it hurt your cheeks as you pulled him into a hug, savoring the way he chuckled as he hugged you back.

“Of course, Spence,” you smiled, still holding him close, “of course.”

“God, I missed you,” he admitted into your neck, “no one else pretends to care about Star Trek as well as you do.”

You laughed and let him go, feeling the distance that had formed over the last year vanishing bit by bit.

“I’ve missed you too, Doctor Reid.” You said, “But, I’ll admit, I haven’t missed the Star Trek talk as much.”

“None of us miss the Star Trek talk,” Derek said, making you both jump, “honestly, I miss not knowing about Star Trek.”

“Preach,” JJ agreed, “Y/N/N, I know you’re in charge of what we watch tonight but I’m begging you, please pick something made for adults? I’ve been watching nothing but Marvel and Disney for months.”

“But I love Disney,” Emily complained.

“Rest assured,” Rossi interrupted, “it’s my entertainment system and I don’t even have any Disney.”

“You have Lord of The Rings though, right?” Spencer asked.

You watched your team bicker amongst themselves, laughing like you hadn’t laughed in months. Being together like this was like a healing balm for your frayed nerves, bringing you back to a place of calm, like you’d just come home from a long trip. In the back of your mind, you knew there was still work to be done, old wounds you needed to address and mysteries you needed to solve but, for now, you were just happy to be with your family. For now, this was enough.

—————————

Spencer felt like he was living in some sort of strange fever dream, like all his months of sulking had finally driven him mad and now he was physically imagining things as he helped you out of his car. Touching you always made him a little dizzy but, over the years that you’d worked together every day, he’d managed to build up a tolerance, a tolerance that was now almost completely gone. It had been months since everyone had agreed to have family dinner at Rossi’s, but now that you were back, he’d insisted. Spencer was on cloud nine. He had his best friend back and, for the first time since you’d left, things felt good again, like he was exactly where he should be.

As you sat around Rossi’s table, swapping stories and reminiscing over the past, Spencer had to fight to stop from staring at you. You were really there. He could reach out and touch you. If he called your name you would respond and your eyes would light up the way they always had, like he was the only person in the world you wanted to see. It was surreal. In the back of his mind, Spencer knew he was being selfish, that he shouldn’t want you to stay this time and he should be itching to find out who was stalking you so that you could go back to the life you’d built. But he wasn’t.

When JJ had gotten the call that you needed them, Spencer had thought his heart was going to implode from all the pent up longing he’d kept stored away. Seeing you hadn’t exactly improved things. He’d spent the entire day trying to hold himself together, unsure of how to act around you, playing through every single memory he’d been keeping repressed for all this time like it would somehow give him the answer. God, half the time he’d wanted to scream, the other half he’d wanted to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go ever again. As his eyes traced the plains of your face, plains he’d memorized a million different times, he felt a flicker of that old flame burn in his chest, like the embers of a fire that had never really been put out, and he sighed.

“Hey, kid, where’s your head?” Morgan asked, his voice soft enough to avoid being overheard.

“Hmm? What?” Spencer replied, tearing his eyes away from you as you laughed at something Garcia said.

“Your head,” he repeated, where’s it at?”

Spencer thought for a minute, and then smiled, “I’m good. Really good, actually.”

Morgan nodded, a little too knowingly for Spencer’s liking, but let the matter drop. Just then, the unmistakable ping of Hotch’s cell cut through the late night air and, as if on cue, every eye in the house turned to face the sound. Hotch examined his phone, his frown deepening and sending shivers of worry up Spencer’s neck. He wanted to say something, to stop Hotch from giving them whatever horrible piece of news was on that phone, but he couldn’t. He just sat and waited, like everybody else.

“Hotch?” JJ eventually asked, her hand gripping yours, hard.

“They-uh-” Hotch started, showing a rare moment of nerves, “they found another note at Y/N’s apartment.”

Several people swore, Garcia whimpered, Derek slammed his fist against the table, but you just stared straight ahead, your face stony and unmoving. Spencer wanted to reach out, but he was frozen in place.

“What did it say?” You asked, “Is it another love poem?”

“No,” Hotch answered, “it’s a string of numbers; 29.07.15/18.01.14/38.8765.77.0006.”

“Reid, you got that?” Morgan asked, shooting him a look.

Spencer felt like the wind had been knocked out of him, but he nodded, “I’ve got it.”

“But, that’s not all, is it?” Rossi asked.

Hotch shook his head, “They found another body. This time in an empty storefront a few blocks away from Y/N’s apartment.”

“Probably the site I’d picked out for the second branch,” you supplied, “I just signed the deal three weeks ago.”

You buried your face in your hands, sighing as the atmosphere around the dinner table took a turn for the worst.

“Well,” Emily said, “Looks like we’ve got our lead.”

Hotch nodded, “Let’s get to work.”

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

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes​, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless​, @reidloversisforever​, @ashookykooky​, @l0ve-0f-my-life​, @shilohpug​, @tangerinenotions95​, @petitchatonbleu, @pirateismywayofspeaking​, @must-be-a-weasley-92​, @whovianayesha, @holding-on-to-my-youth​

[sapphirespencer]

“Do you think you could’ve loved me?” PART 2 (Spencer x Fem!Reader)

author’s note: I wrote this during lunch and history class so it might suck so I apologize in advance but so many of you wanted a part two and I’ll be honest, I did too. Thank you so much for the love on the first part. Requests are open if you have any :)

Word count: 1605

Tags: @youaremyfiveever​ (request to be tagged loves)

Part 1

She hadn’t said goodbye to him. Three months ago, Spencer had let the woman he wanted walk out of his life and she hadn’t even said goodbye. That broke him. She still called the team and visited more than twice a month to see them but Spencer was excluded from it all. He knew that he deserved it, he wasn’t able to give her what she wanted. He wouldn’t let himself love her as it would only hurt her in the end. She wanted kids, and he wasn’t going to be the one to give her the, as he put it, “messed up genes”. She wanted to tell everyone they knew that they were a couple, not only the team, but he was scared that an unsub would take advantage of their relationship. She wanted to grow old with him, but he didn’t want to put her through the years of turmoil that he still had to endure with his mother. Maybe he did love her, but admitting it would be selfish of him.

 Hotch watched as the clock on his wall reached 3pm, Y/N was three hours late. Not “the train is behind schedule” late, the panic inducing kind of late. Y/N had promised Jack she would be there to pick him up after his soccer game but when she was a no show, Aaron had sheepishly asked his coach to drop him off at the bureau. Hotchner looked back out at the bullpen where Jack was now playing paper toss with Morgan and Reid and waited anxiously for Y/N to walk through the glass doors, he knew something was wrong. He felt a weight press harder onto his shoulder as the time between her supposed arrival to Quantico grew longer. In a panic, He reached for the phone and dialed her office. Maybe she forgot about the flight. Maybe she got buried in work last minute. But he knew she would have called or texted. Y/N wasn’t someone to let people worry if she had any control over it, and she would’ve never let Jack down.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” The receptionist's voice rang through the phone, shaking him of his thoughts.

“Hi. Is Agent Y/N Y/L/N available?” Aaron sat up straight in his chair, awaiting her response.

“I’m sorry, sir. Miss Y/L/N is on leave at the moment. Would you like to leave a message?” His heart sank to his stomach. She had arranged time off three to four times a month to meet with the team again. He had hoped that her request for time off had just been denied and she had no time to call but with Y/N being missing and an unsub that knew the team far too well being let loose, he knew that her disappearance was not a coincidence. After asking the specifics of when Y/N had left her office last night and making a few more phone calls, Aaron prepared to present the case to his team.

Spencer was confused on why Hotchner would flinch every couple of sentences into the case he was presenting. He noticed as his superior would reach to tug on his tie every few seconds, as if it was cutting off his air supply. He wondered if it had something to do with the fact that Jack was in the next room over but he knew that it made no sense. 

“There’s one more thing...the unsub, I think he has Y/N.” That when it all clicked for the super genius. Hotch was in distress because Y/N was missing. Y/N was missing. She was missing. The unsub took her. The unsub…

“That’s impossible. She’s smarter than him, she wouldn’t have let him take her. It’s not possible.” The team watched as Spencer failed to acknowledge the situation.

“Spencer, I asked a friend to check out the security cameras in the parking garage of her workplace. She was hit in the back of the head as she was getting in her car. I saw the footage, I saw him take her. But we can find her, we have to find her, we leave in 20 minutes.”  The team quickly shot up from their seats and filed out of the conference room, all of them determined to get in their cars in the next 5 minutes.

It had been 3 hours since they had reached D.C., the hour long ride there felt like an eternity for all of them. Spencer hadn’t spit out a single fact in the past four hours. The world felt unfamiliar to him for the first time in his entire life. He didn’t know who he would be in a world where Y/N didn’t exist and he couldn’t help but think of what he could’ve done to prevent this from happening. Maybe if he had just told her he loved her, if he had just thrown down the walls he had built, then maybe she would’ve been safe and with him right now.

“Spencer, what are you thinking? Anything could be useful now, pretty boy.” Morgan hadn’t found the genius hard to profile in the moment, it was obvious he was tearing himself up inside looking for answers.

“Nothing. I need coffee.” Shutting out the rest of the team, Spencer walked to the small coffee machine in the corner of the room, oblivious to Hotch bursting into the room.

“We found her. Garcia found her location, well she found two locations actually. Morgan, Reid, and I will take the first one. JJ, Emily, and Rossi take the second. Let’s go get Y/N.” Dropping his empty mug onto the carpeted floor, Reid was the first to flee the room, despite Derek holding the keys to the black SUV. The car was quiet for only the first 5 minutes of their 15 minute ride to Y/N. Hotch took note of Spencer’s shaking leg and constant nail picking, another display of how obvious his love for Y/N was.

“You have to tell her, Reid. You can’t do this to her.” Morgan spoke up, almost as if he had read Hotch’s thoughts.

“No...no I can’t.” He had meant for his voice to be stern but it wavered, showing how close to tears he truly was.

“Yes, you can. All she wants is you, Spencer. She still asks about you.” Hotch interjected

“She does?” 

“All the time, pretty boy. We all know you love her, it’s just her that doesn’t. You need to tell her, kid.” Derek watched Reid wipe his eyes from the rearview mirror. It was then when it hit him, he had to have her in his life, no matter what their future brought. He didn’t want his last words to her to be ‘I don’t know.’ 

“I do...I do love her. I need her to be safe. I need to talk to her. I need to see her. Morgan, how far are we?” 

“Almost there, pretty boy, almost there.” 

They had found Y/N alive but the unsub had drugged her, leaving her unconscious. Seeing her body look so lifeless had instantly brought Spencer to tears, and as he sat in the ambulance next to her, he never let go of her hand, repeating those three words she longed to hear fall out of his mouth. She had several broken ribs, a broken arm, and a mild concussion. She had made it without severe injuries and everyone was grateful for it. Y/N hadn’t woken up yet but Spencer waited, only leaving her side once to use the bathroom. The team visited every couple of hours, checking on the lovesick genius and hoping to see Y/N awake. Spencer, completely immersed in the book he was reading out loud for Y/N, hadn’t even noticed the first time she squeezed his familiar hand. And as she opened her eyes, she was glad that it was the man she loved next to her, even if he had said he could never love her. 

“the lights are too bright.” Her voice croaked out to him, and he instantly reached for the glass of water next to him, hoping it would soothe her throat. He dimmed the hospital bed lights upon her request.

“Spence...h-”

“Y/N, I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. I was afraid I could never give you the life that you wanted so I let you walk out. Letting you leave has to be my biggest regret. I wish I had stopped you, I wish I had told you then. I wish it hadn’t gone this far. I wish it hadn’t taken you getting abducted for me to realize how much I need you in my life, how much I need you alive. I’m so in love with you Y/N Y/L/N and if it’s too late, I understand. If you can’t do th-”

“I never stopped loving you, Spencer.” That’s all it took for the both of them to break into tears. With her working hand, Y/N reached up to cup Spencer’s cheek, wiping his tears with her thumb.

“Do you still want me, messed up as I am?” He nestled into her hand, realizing how much he had missed her touch. 

“I want you every single day, Spence. We still have to talk, but I want us.” And when Y/N was released from the hospital, they sat on their couch and talked all through the night. They were both going to make it work, despite their fears.

imagine the gif as spence’s face when you tell him you love him aHHH

[idwithoutthesuperego]

DREAM OF ME

CHAPTER 04: Surprises at parties

SUMMARY: m!reader (Y/n) is an incubus, who enrolls into an state university, just outside Beacon Hills, a town that has a quite lively supernatural little community, even if the supernaturals themselves aren’t all aware. There, he meets a shy blonde guy who acts like he is half of himself, and a dark haired one who is loud and can’t keep his mouth shut to save his perfect little ass.

Tags: Teen Wolf AU. m!reader x stiles x isaac. Smut. Fetishes. College. Nsfw. Past mentions of abuse. Physical abuse. Drinking. Drugs. Angst. Fluff.

 Hey, I’m still alive. Just had a LOT of things from uni and work to do these last few weeks. But the new chapter is finally here !

Thanks for all of those who are reading and supporting ^^

The twins are back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up on party day feeling pretty refreshed. How you had missed feeding. It hadn’t been a full thing, since you hadn’t had sex and maxed the twins’ sexual and vital energy before feeding, but still. Maybe Eve wasn’t so wrong after all. But gods forbid she knew that, she probably would make a parade just to boast about it.

Getting up from the bed, you put on a fluffy robe and poured some expensive wine in a nice glass. You couldn’t get drunk, but you could still be dramatic about it and appreciate the taste.

And so began your morning of choosing what clothes you were going to wear to your “all you can suck out of” buffet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stiles was woken up by the sun making his bedroom way too hot, what meant it was already pretty late into the morning. And also by the buzzing of his phone with a text from Scott.

‘Don’t forget you are giving me a ride to the party

Think your crush will be there?

- S’

Before he could panic thinking about what he was going to do when he saw you, he panicked about the situation he had gone to sleep in.

He was butt naked, blankets on the floor, he had visible cum stains all over his abdomen and chest, his computer was beside him on his bed still paused on a very kinky porn video, and his dildo and lube were right beside it.

Thank god he had locked the door; because that was one talk he definitely could not have with the sheriff.

Red as beet, Stiles stashed everything away and scooted to the bathroom to get ready for the day. And if he had to get off in the shower remembering last night’s videos, well, no one was there to judge him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The party began pretty early for your standards, right in the start of the afternoon, but you supposed the people wanted to make use of the heat and the nearby lake as much as possible. So you arrived fashionably late.

Stiles, on the other hand, had a task to complete, so he had arrived exactly on time with Scott, making his best friend look for you, even if he didn’t really know who you were. He had already pestered Scott about helping him choose his best boxers, in case he had to go swimming or ‘more than that’, and a shirt that showed off his “muscles” (there weren’t any really), and pants that made his ass look big and perfect.

Isaac arrived just after Scott and Stiles, but decided to get a drink and be a wallflower. That way people could see he was there, but wouldn’t go out of their way to talk to or bother him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not soon after you arrived, you could already feel the atmosphere, the particular one this kind of events always gave. It was like a small buzz on your skin of having all these people with so much sexual energy pent up, but being too prude and socially reprimanded to do something about it, so they resorted to alcohol and games. But it only made everything more interesting and tasteful.

Gods, how you missed the times when people would just gather around for a banquet and an orgy. It made things so much easier. Nowadays you had to use apps instead of getting an invitation on your door with a time and place.

But no matter, you cracked your knuckles, and let your aura begin to attract unknowing people into your presence.

Stiles soon saw you. He had lost Scott a few minutes ago, so no one to give him emotional support or tips for this. He decided that straightforward was the best strategy. So he got two drinks and marched towards you.

The only problem was, when he got to you and you two were face to face, he had no idea what to say, and you already had a drink in hand. So he stood there, looking at you, frozen in place, trying to come up with something.

When you saw the boy that had bumped marching away not really into your direction with two drinks in hand, you guessed he was just going to walk past over, but then he made a sharp turn and planted himself in front of you, saying nothing. You feel see his anxiety and lust, see how his cute innocent face was slightly red from embarrassment, so you waved your hand and the people near you quickly dispersed.

“Yes?”

“Hi! I was just over there, and thought that maybe you wanted a drink, because it’s a party and everybody wants to drink right? So maybe want to drink with me? But you already have one, and getting drinks from strangers at parties really isn’t so smart. So that’s it, I’m gonna go. Bye!” He rambled. This boy was a mess, a hot anxious mess, but a mess.

“Wait.” You held his arm, making him pause and look at you. “Stiles, right?” Getting a nod from him in response. “You know what? I need a drink…” You said pouring yours to the ground. “…and a cute guy just happens to have offered me one.” You finished, taking one of the cups from his hand.

“Yeah? Cool… Wait, how do you know my name?”

“Yesterday, when you ran into me, the twins said it.”

“Oh, yeah…” Stiles had been so entranced and embarrassed he hadn’t even noticed. “So, Ethan and Aiden are your friends?”

“Them? Not at all, they just offered to show me around, but we didn’t get along so well, so I dished then and went home right after.”

“That’s great!” he said before he could think. “I mean… that you didn’t spend too long with then, with Ethan…” He just blushed and looked at his drink.

“So, are you going to ask for my name too or are you just going to parade that hot look of yours away and make me guess?”

That comment almost made Stiles crush his cup and blush beet red. “Oh my God, sorry! Yes, what’s your name?! I mean, I heard the twins calling you, so I know, but not in creep way?”

“It’s (Y/n), nice to finally meet you.” You took a step closer, smiling.

Both of you spent some more time talking, well most of the time Stiles was rambling, but you thought it was cute. As time went on, and he started to notice you were giving way too clear signs you were into him, he got more comfortable. But the boy had practically invited himself to show you all over town in sort of dates.

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

Nearby, Isaac was getting another beer and trying to avoid the crowd. Not that having 3 or even 10 would have much effect on wolf, but still. He was, however, ever so worried about the time. He couldn’t even enjoy being out, too deep into thought, because he was worried what his father would do if he knew Isaac was spending his day drinking on a college party instead of studying, cleaning the house or something considered useful.

And that’s probably how he got himself into a bad situation. Just as he was getting away from the crowd, the twins noticed him and started following. As soon as they far enough, they really approached Isaac.

Ever since they came into town way back with the alpha pack and were beaten by the Scott – Hale pack groups (Isaac included), they were the only ones left, so they held a pretty big grudge on them. Still, they couldn’t do anything publicly or face the head on. So they resorted to some bullying and pranks over time. Now, the wanted their own pack to rule, enough with all those alphas in one single town.

Ethan was the first to speak up, startling Isaac.

“Hey bro, look who do we have here? I think I smell loneliness and fear. Don’t you?” That only made Aiden smile and Isaac grip his bottle harder.

“What do the two of you want?”

“Oh my, so snarky, I guess Hale really didn’t want a brat as charity work on his pack hmn? Word around is that scarf boy here was kicked to the curb.” By now Isaac’s teeth were gritting and his eyes ready to flash yellow. He was holding himself, because he knew he couldn’t take an alpha, even less two.

“Is that so? Word around town is that not even his own father can stand him presence. That blondie is only good to be a punching bag and cleaning the house.”

That made Isaac’s blood run cold. He lost control of his grip on the bottle, squeezing it too hard. By now he was bawling the glass shards into a fist and could barely feel it. All he could think was ‘how could they know?’, ‘did Derek tell on him?’, ‘did his father brag about doing those things to him?’. Isaac wanted to run away, wanted to punch those two, wanted to do something, but he couldn’t move. What if they told on him? If world got out, what would people think? How would they look at him? It was too much to even imagine, he could feel the fear taking control of his mind.

“Is that so Ethan? If bitch boy is so useless no one wants him around, maybe we should just make everyone a favor and get rid of him? Bet not even dear old dad would miss him. We can just send a maid on his place and the coach won’t know the difference.” Aiden said with a creepy smile, cracking his knuckles and taking a few steps into Isaac’s direction.

“Wait Aiden, I have a better idea.” Stopping his brother with a hand on his shoulder. “Can’t you smell? His fear is so strong he is probably about to pee his pants. There is no need to kill him.” He took came even closer, by now he was at arm’s length from Isaac. “After all, if he is so useful, we could add him to our pack and keep him around. It’ll be good to let off some steam.”

Ethan was pretty sure he and his twin had different definitions of “letting off steam” when talking about this. But he did miss having someone to train (beat up) from time to time. And if this put them one step closer to having a big pack, all the more reason. “Okay.”

Isaac could already see their eyes flashing red, his flashing yellow in response. He was afraid and angry, but if alphas made him submit, there was nothing he could do.

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

After realizing he had, yet again, accidentally and clumsy invited you to date out of the blue, Stiles wanted to crawl into a whole right there and hide until he died. He swore he was blushing so hard he wouldn’t even need a jacket for the chilly night ahead. But you were still there, and even laughing at his stupid jokes, so he also just wanted to lean in and snog your face off like a proper gentleman.

While trying to make not so obvious that he was looking very hard at your eyes, your crotch and you lips, he caught sight of Isaac. Which in itself was weird, the blond had been avoiding him and the pack for a while now, much more at these events. He really liked and cared for Isaac, even if they spent only a few moments together. And he knew Isaac cared for the people of his pack, even if he didn’t voice it to Scott. But one day, he just stopped going to Derek’s and started avoiding everyone. What he saw next sent flags on his head, the twins following Isaac to a desert part of the woods. Something was definitely up

He stopped talking and paying attention to you midsentence, turning to look for Scott. Fishing his phone he even tried to call his friend and send a quick text telling where he was but nothing.

“Hey Stiles, is everything okay? You look a little off.” You could feel it, but couldn’t really tell him.

“Sorry, yeah, I just saw someone I know; I guess they might need a hand. Be right back? I’m really, really sorry. Please be here later? Or I’ll call you? And if you see a brooding dark haired guy with kind eyes called Scott tell him I ran in that direction?” Was all he said, marching into Isaac’s direction. Of course, without giving you his number.

Looking at his big butt in those tight jeans running away, your only response was “For the gods, why do I have to be curious?” And went after that ass.

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

By the time Stiles arrived, things were ready to turn sour. The twins had their eyes flashing against Isaac’s. He was already visibly struggling to keep standing up. So, he did the smartest thing he could think of, he threw his drink on Aiden and ran to Isaac’s side. That gave the blond a breather while the twins took a few steps back at the sudden turn of events.

“What the fuck?! Stiles? What are you doing here?” Aiden spat, looking at his soaked clothes.

“Why do you have to be everywhere? Doesn’t Scott keep you on a leash or something?” The other twin completed.

“And what about the two of you? Don’t you two have someone else to pick on?” Stiles responded half standing in front of Isaac.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but we were just getting to know our new pack mate.”

“Cut the crap. Isaac’s part of Derek’s pack. And if you don’t back down, he will go after you.”

Now it was Aiden who responded with an evil grin. “Didn’t you get the notice? Isaac boy was kicked out. Nobody wants him around anymore. So we are doing him a solid and letting him join us.”

“Is that true Isaac?” Stiles asked the boy crouching besides him. But Isaac couldn’t respond, what was he going to say? Tell the truth why he ran away from Derek’s pack? If he fought back, were the twins going to tell on him, on what his father did to him? Silence was all he could respond with.

Stiles wasn’t buying the twins words, but Isaac wasn’t even looking at him. And if they fought, well, he wouldn’t even be able to run very far to be honest. And run while carrying Isaac was even less of an option.

Aiden started to make his way to the duo, already fed up with Stiles presence. “Now get out of here, unless you want a bite as a farewell gift.”

Just as he was about to grab Stiles arm to yank him out of there, he suddenly felt a chill creep up on his spine. An arm was over his, another on his neck, both keeping him rocked into place, and you talking right beside his ear.

“Now, now, doing that wouldn’t be very nice would it?”

It all happened in an instant for them, one moment you weren’t there and then you were. As soon as Ethan noticed you, his claws came out and was about to dash at your throat. But as soon as his red eyes crossed with you incandescent ones, all he could feel was pain. He could barely move because of it.

Aiden, seeing his twin, tried to free himself, but couldn’t move an inch, your fingers on his neck starting to dig deeper and draw blood. You came close to his ear again and whispered “down boy”, which only made him angrier, before tossing him into a tree.

When you broke eye contact with Ethan and threw Aiden, the first could feel the pain going away, but didn’t move, not understanding what happened. As he got up, the second could feel some of his ribs had cracked on impact. While you made your way to a dumbfounded Stiles Isaac pair. The dark haired boy considered running again, but you had just protected both of them, so you weren’t just going to kill them. Right?

“You two okay?”

“Y-yeah… But how did you? When did you? Why…?” Stiles just darted his eyes from you to the twins, not really understanding everything.

Isaac put a protective arm in front of Stiles who was obviously lost in his own questions. “Who are you?”

“Yeah, who the hell are you?! And what are you?” Aiden followed, feeling his bones heal. You only smiled and turned around.

“Oh, don’t tell me the two of you already forgot? After you so kindly invited me to your room just yesterday?”

The twins stared at each other, but couldn’t remember you at all. So you looked to them and spoke a single word “… remember…” in a voice that sounded like an echo, eyes glowing again. And all of a sudden, some of the memories you had taken from them rushed back in, the kisses, them taking off their clothes, kneeling in front of you in their underwear, laying naked on the bed, posing for pictures. That made the twins loose some balance and get embarrassed at the recollection.

“Now, I and these two are going to leave. I trust you two aren’t going to follow. After all, I took some nice picks yesterday, wouldn’t  want those getting around.” You winked at the twins and extended a hand to Stiles.

Isaac didn’t know what to think of all of this, but Stiles seemed to trust you enough to take your hand. So when you did the same to him, he accepted the help to get up. Both of them following you to your car.

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

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@kinoko-kai

[amatchinwater]

I posted 3,146 times in 2021

184 posts created (6%)

2962 posts reblogged (94%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 16.1 posts.

I added 1,148 tags in 2021

#stiles stilinski - 228 posts

#steo - 199 posts

#teen wolf - 180 posts

#theo raeken - 151 posts

#theo x stiles - 96 posts

#steospooktober - 69 posts

#sterek - 62 posts

#steospooktober vol.3 - 62 posts

#stiles x theo - 54 posts

#derek hale - 47 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#he had that wall going on 9 years when the nogitsune possessed him. damn right he's dangerous for being so good at pretending to be okay.

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

@voidstilesplease more vampire Theo for our hearts :)

Blood Bound

Warnings: Blood, Explicit sexual content,

Words: 4159

Ao3 link

Beacon Hills hasn’t seen an Omega in well over a hundred years. Nearly everyone presents as a Beta save for a very short list of Alphas. Like, super short. Stiles can count them on one hand short. There’s only two that matter to him though. One being his father, the sheriff and second in command. The other? Beacon Hills’ head Alpha? One Theo Raeken.

But you see, unlike everyone else in town, Theo is a little different. Okay, a lot different. He’s a vampire and once a month, the citizens pick a Beta to go to his castle and feed him. Call it a sacrifice, call it a tribute- whatever. It keeps the town protected because no one really wants to mess with an Alpha vampire.

Everyone in town is waiting for the day someone presents as an Omega. Their blood is different apparently. It supposedly tastes better to a vampire, is the only blood type that can be turned rather than born, and can more or less be used as a constant source of sustenance due to their impeccable healing.

It’s become this widely accepted notion that whoever presents as an Omega will be given to Theo without a second thought. No matter who they were. They would instantly pack up and go live with the lord in his castle on top of the hill. Hell, Theo practically demanded it. It is his birth right though. Founding family, town protector, head Alpha and all that. It’s meant to be an honor that someone ends up being born for him.

So it only makes sense that when Stiles turns eighteen his eyes flash blue. The veins in his hands and arms become more prominent. Stiles was also pretty pale to begin with, but his skin lightened a good shade or two so that when they’re not bulging out, the blue veins are visible. Because why wouldn’t he become an Omega? Made to be a vampire’s equivalent of a mate. He’s just trying to keep the thought that if he’s supposed to basically be Theo’s other half, then that's gotta be good somehow, right?

The hardest pill to swallow isn’t even that he’s about to be a living breathing blood bag for a hundred something year old vampire. No. It’s the realization that he will more than likely never see his dad again. No Beta has ever made it out of Lord Raeken’s castle alive. Understandably so. They were mere sustenance for a month until they dried up. Omega’s aren’t like that. His presentation signed the dotted line of him being Theo’s for the rest of his natural born life.

He’ll never have a proper life outside of being a food source. His dad will be taken care of at least. Theo always pays the families well for their sacrifice. And there has to be some level of respect if he’s literally meant to stay alive for the vampire. Some modicum of care for his own mate, right? So these have to be the worst case scenario. Not like there’s anyone around that he can ask about the Alpha’s treatment though.

Or what he looks like for that matter. The last time Theo had to come down from his castle was over thirty years ago when a witch was causing trouble. Stiles’ father described him as a well dressed man with brown hair and blue eyes. Because that’s helpful. He essentially described Isaac with that little detail. Yeah, last the Omega checked his best friend isn’t a vampire, but it’s the principle.

The goodbye to his dad sucked. Saying goodbye to Isaac was just as rough. They’ve been friends since they were in diapers. There wasn’t much of a warning either. The minute his veins popped out, the local druid that confirmed his presentation was legally obligated to send word to the Alpha. He was vague or so Stiles was told. Just said that there was now an Omega in Beacon Hills and would arrive by nightfall.

All of three hours after his presentation.

He'd be lying though if he said he didn't have this weird feeling in his chest. Like Stiles knows he's meant to be at that castle. With Theo. Someone he's never met and already there's this small hint, like the aftermath of being tickled, in his heart that this is right. No matter how nervous he may be about the situation.

The black Mercedes with fully tinted windows pulled up to his driveway to take him away just as the sun hit the top of the trees. Now with his two bags of clothes- his father was given a letter stating that the rest of Stiles’ things would be picked up within the week- the Omega arrives at dusk. Just enough light left over that his new Omega senses don’t have to work too hard to see the castle. Albeit a little overgrown with ivy, it’s still a beautiful place. At least he gets to live in a cool ass place as compensation.

The driver said fuck all to him the entire way there. Not that Stiles could find a thing to say or ask anyway. Nerves overshadowing his usual word vomit while he bites his nails raw. The tall, thin man gets out from behind the wheel as silent as ever to open Stiles’ door for him. The Omega slings both bags over his shoulder like this whole ordeal doesn’t phase him in the slightest. Honestly, what would putting up a fight do? Get him killed? No, thanks. If this is supposed to be a good thing, he'd like to keep it that way.

Two ornate double doors with dragon head knockers stare Stiles in the face. Reaching out to use one, the door opens on its own. Because that’s not fucking ominous at all. And fucking weird. Stepping across the threshold and into the castle’s foyer he can’t stop his jaw from dropping if he tried.

It’s a little dark from candles as the main source of light- though he can see bulbs in the chandelier- the Omega sees beautiful, deep red wallpaper with intricate black designs. Setting both bags down, Stiles steps towards a set of velvet chairs tucked by the staircase and has this sick temptation to call out. But he won’t. Surely the Alpha knows he’s here by smell alone. The room he’s in breaks off in four different directions. The itch to find out where they lead is very prevalent.

“You must be the Omega,” a gorgeously deep voice startles Stiles while he’s examining the small table with crystal decanters and a steaming mug of what looks like tea. His head jerks up to the top of the staircase where the sound came from and he almost knocks the teacup over. Seeing mostly the silhouette and shadowed features of the vampire leaning against the railing, the figure starts to descend.

“Sorry,” Stiles says, holding both hands out over the tray to ensure the drink won’t fall before stumbling towards the stairs. “Yeah, I’m the Omega. My name’s Stiles.”

His legs grow more like jelly with each step as the nerves start to settle in his gut once more. This is actually happening. He’s here now and Theo’s right fucking there. And holy fuck is the vampire gorgeous. Maybe an inch shorter than the Omega at the most. Theo seems to fill out his crimson shirt beautifully and the stubble on his jaw has Stiles make this weird clicking sound when he tries to swallow. If it’s any consolation, the vampire seems to be eyeing him just as hungrily.

And not in a needing food sort of way.

When he reaches the bottom of the stairs, the Alpha leans on the edge of the banister, “you don’t have to apologize to me, Stiles. This is your home now,” Theo says, “you can touch and explore all you want. I want you to be comfortable here.” He gets off the last stair and walks over to the small table the Omega was just at and opens a little jar, “how do you take your tea?”

It takes a moment for Stiles to recover from that. No one has ever told him that he can just do whatever he wants. Sure, the Omega does it anyway, but it’s never really been with permission before. Theo actually seems kind of nice. And he didn’t just come down the stairs and sink his fangs into the Omega, so there’s that. “Three sugars, no cream, and honey if you have it, please,” he answers slowly, meeting the vampire.

He watches the Alpha add three sugar cubes and honey before stirring it into the ceramic. Picking it up, he offers it to the Omega, “it’s chamomile. You’re probably a little nervous about all of this. It’s great for anxiety and helping people sleep. I thought it could help.”

Stiles takes the small cup, “you made tea for me?” The Omega blows the steam away before taking a sip. It’s fucking perfect. “I figured this was just an ‘I’m here now so you get to eat for the next however many years I live for’ sort of thing.” Why not get straight to the point, right? It’s not like Stiles has ever been good about doing that in the first place.

Biting the grin from his lip, the Alpha gestures to one of the chairs and Stiles sits down. Taking the seat on the other side of the small table, Theo asks, “you don’t know much about mates, do you?”

“Not really, no,” he takes another sip of his drink. Liking the way that the warmth spreads through his chest and actually does reduce his unease. It helps him feel like he’s just meeting a regular person for the first time. The Omega has to remind himself that he is. While Theo may be a vampire, he’s still a person.

“I knew you presented. Well, not you specifically,” the Alpha leans forward so his elbows rest on his knees. “But I could feel it. It took everything I had not to come into town to find you and bond with you immediately. Before I even knew what you looked like, I wanted you, Stiles. Not just for your blood either. Someone only presents as an Omega for their mate. Meaning that you’d never have presented if it didn’t mean that you were meant to be with me.’

‘Now, I know we don’t know each other yet, so I understand if you’re wary about all of this. But know that I will do everything to keep you safe and happy. I don’t expect you to stay cooped up in here everyday. I can go out in the sun, I just choose not to. Never really had a reason,” Theo shrugs, “until now that is. I don’t want to push you too hard, but I do need to feed eventually. It doesn’t hurt. And if it’s ever something you want, I’d be okay turning you too. We can figure out a different way to eat.”

Out of everything Stiles imagined Theo would be like, this is far from it. He was ready for some guy to just drink from him and then chain him to some room until he was hungry again. Not tell him that he can still have a life; see his dad. That the Alpha wants him as more than just a bloodbag. For fuck’s sake, the vampire hadn’t even met him yet and had a warm cup of tea to calm him down and make him comfortable. That’s a lot of consideration that the Omega didn’t think he’d get.

Also, saying that he doesn’t mind turning Stiles is basically saying that he doesn’t mind being with the Omega for literally ever. “So you don't just want to drink my blood?”

"Oh, I do. I really do, I can smell it from here," Theo responds, pointing towards him. "And that vein on your neck, god your neck is just- do you have any idea how good you look?"

That has a dark, hot blush sting Stiles' cheeks. "No?"

The Alpha laughs, smiling to his ears and the human can finally see his fangs. Blame his newfound Omega nature if you want, but all he can think about is getting those to puncture his flesh. "Well, you're gorgeous, Stiles. And your neck is the most tempting thing I've ever seen. Truly, I've never met a human that has made my fangs literally ache."

Oh?

"A-are you hungry?" Stiles sets the empty teacup back on its saucer, leaning on the plush armrest. "This is all very weird, yes, but you seem nice; decent. And I've never been bold a day in my life, but you're hot as fuck, dude." That has the Alpha grinning through another laugh and if that isn't the most beautiful thing the Omega has seen or heard. "I get where you're coming from, despite my near constant state of anxiety, I felt it too when I presented. That I needed to be here with you. Now, I see your fangs and I- I have this intense need to know what it feels like for you to bite me.”

By the time it takes the Omega to blink, Theo has both hands on either armrest and is nearly two inches from his face. “That can be arranged,” the Alpha says with a smirk. “We can do whatever you want or nothing at all. It’s up to you,” the vampire leans closer to his ear and the breath on his neck is warm and makes him gasp. “I’ve been waiting for you for a really long time,” Theo’s lips brush against his neck and his fangs tease the flesh. “So if you want me to feed on you right away that’s fine.” He kisses the crook and one of Stiles’ hands comes up to his bicep. “If you want me to take you to bed immediately,” his voice a deep whisper and a chuckle is painted on his skin, “then I’m okay with that too.”

Why was he so nervous again? Stiles certainly can’t remember. Not when there’s a warm body so close to his yet somehow so far at the same time. Teasing him like Theo knew that’s what the Omega would like. He’s not a virgin, Stiles knows what he likes. It just so happens that the Alpha apparently does too. Or this is just how he is and it happens to line up perfectly. Mates. Right.

“You’re not telling me no,” the vampire nips at his neck and the slight sting shoots right to his dick. Because it’s the truth. The Omega isn’t saying no. And he’s not so sure that he wants Theo to stop what he’s doing either. Feeling like his body is agreeing with the Alpha for him. Falling pliant to the vampire because he feels nothing but safe and filled with need.

“Theo,” he whispers. Not trusting his voice to not crack if he spoke too loud.

“Hmm?” The Alpha hums, kissing the spot he abused.

He can’t believe he’s saying this, but the words are coming out and they taste of nothing but sincerity, “bite me.” Theo’s hand cups the opposite side of his neck, thumb brushing against his jaw and Stiles leans into the contact. When the vampire’s fangs sink into the crook, the Omega moans, finding the pain delicious and way more erotic than he’d expected it to be. The pulling sensation is a bit weird, he’ll admit that. But it’s not much in the way of a hindrance with how good those teeth feel.

The Alpha doesn’t take much, only sucking on his neck for all of ten seconds if that. Theo licks away the blood and the Omega is a little surprised at how numb the area feels now. Like there wasn’t something just piercing his flesh. “Perfect,” the vampire purrs, leaning back to look at him. “Is that all?” Theo asks and the Omega’s fingers run up the vampire’s arm until he’s cupping his face too. The smallest line of blood peeks out from the corner of the Alpha’s mouth and when he breaks a small smile, his teeth are still tinged red.

Stiles knows he probably shouldn’t find that attractive. Like at all. Except that he does. He likes to look at Theo with that streak of red on his face. His blood on the Alpha. Throwing caution to the wind and letting himself trust whatever obvious instincts these are. “No,” he gently squeezes the vampire’s jaw before rushing up to crash their mouths together. Because he wants whatever Theo will give him. The vampire said he would.

The Alpha however doesn’t take more than he’s given and that’s not really what Stiles is after right now. So he pushes forward, parting his lips slightly as an invitation and can’t help but moan into the kiss when Theo accepts. Sliding their tongues together like they’ve been doing this forever. Moving in perfect sync that the Omega didn’t even realize they were actually moving until his toes touched the stairs. To which the vampire lifts Stiles up by his legs and carries him up to his- their room.

All the while licking and playfully nipping at the two holes on his neck. A door is pushed open and before Stiles can even try to see, he’s laid down on a massive bed with silk sheets and the Alpha climbs on top of him. His thigh falling between the Omega’s legs like a perfect fit, rubbing against his hardening erection. The human’s moans are swallowed by Theo’s tongue slipping in his mouth again. Pulling at his bottom lip with his teeth, the Alpha’s eyes flash red at Stiles, everything making a pleased groan work its way out.

“Stiles,” the vampire pants, fisting his hands in the hem of the Omega’s shirt. He can only nod and lift up the best possible, allowing the Alpha to take his shirt off. Theo instantly drops down to lick and bite at every available inch of skin.

His own fingers fumble with the buttons on Theo’s until the Alpha pulls back and yanks his shirt off. The image sort of frazzles Stiles’ brain for a moment, damn near drooling as he runs his hands along Theo’s abs, chest, and biceps. “I get to bond with you?” The Omega asks in disbelief, still pawing at the vampire. “How? How do I do that?” Stiles looks up with wide eyes to find the Alpha smiling at him.

Slowly, Theo leans back down, his arms on either side of the Omega, “you have to drink my blood.” The Alpha brushes their noses together, getting his lips close enough that makes Stiles chase them for contact. “Is that okay with you?”

“I’m sure there’s reasons I should find it weird,” the human says, his voice hushed, “but I don’t. I-I want to bond with you, Theo.” Stiles eyes flash blue and it just has the vampire crashing their mouths together again, leaving enough space between them to shed the rest of their clothes.

"You tell me when you're ready," Theo says, digging his fangs into the offered flesh once more as one slick finger rubs the ring of muscle in a tease. Stiles doesn't understand where the lube came from, but he's absolutely not gonna think too hard about it as said questing finger dips inside him knuckle deep. The Alpha groans as though it were his cock pressing into his warmth and that does things to the Omega.

His fingers curl in the sheets at the slight burn of a second finger. But the mild pain is instantly forgotten as the pads brush against his prostate before scissoring Stiles open more. "Theo," his voice is a wrecked, broken sound that grates out of his throat, "more, please." Need rising in him as well as heat.

With something that sounds dangerously close to a growl a third finger joins the others and the vampire doesn't hold back. Thrusting his hand harshly, jabbing the bundle of nerves relentlessly as he hooks his fingers. "Fuck," Theo hisses when the Omega clenches around the digits, trying to keep them deep inside. "Okay, baby, I've got you," he says. Quick to pull his fingers out and press his wet dick and the stretched entrance.

Stiles keens when the vampire sinks inside of him in one powerful thrust forward. His legs falling open of their own volition. Not that he minds the least bit.

"Okay?" Theo asks, trying to give the human a moment to adjust. But the Omega is already pushing himself down on the vampire's cock, needing it to hit that spot- hands dig into his waist and the Alpha pulls back and slams his hips forward. "Whatever you need, baby."

The Omega preens at the name, never wanting to hear anything else fall past the vampire’s lips ever again. "You," he moans, "just you." The realization that that's one hundred percent true should affect him more than it does. Except that it doesn't. Stiles can't imagine any other outcome but this. The minute he laid eyes on Theo, the Omega knew in his bones this was right.

The vampire promptly pulls out and Stiles whines at the loss, feeling cold without Theo on top of him and buried so deeply inside of him. "It's okay, I'm not going anywhere," the Alpha coos, brushing the matted hair out of the human's eyes and kissing him softly. Moving enough until he's laying on his back and pulling Stiles into his lap. Lovingly rubbing his thighs as he grins with red tinged fangs.

Settling on top of the Alpha, Stiles gasps at the way the new angle digs into his prostate. Warmth spreads in his gut as he starts to grind against Theo, watching his eyes burn red and shrink. “Theo,” the Omega moans, rocking his hips harder, fighting his eyes from rolling back, “I’m ready.”

The hands on his waist squeeze for a second before the Alpha sits up, bringing Stiles with him until he’s resting against the headboard. The Omega watches in awe as the vampire brings a nail up to his neck, slicing a thin line that instantly draws blood. “It’s all yours,” Theo says, leaning his head to the side so the human has a better angle.

He doesn’t think twice about it. Rather rushes down and clamps his mouth around the wound, sucking until Theo’s blood coats his tongue. The Alpha moans, reaching up from behind to grab his shoulders and bucks his hips up into Stiles. The Omega’s moan is muffled around the cut, drinking until it heals and he throws his head back. There's a sort of snap inside him, like a padlock clicking closed with Theo’s name carved into the metal. He feels whole. Tethered to the Alpha as though Theo is coursing through his veins.

In an instant, Stiles is on his back again and the vampire is thrusting into him vigorously. One hand digs into the bed beside his head for leverage as the other puts a loose but firm hold on his throat. Not enough to cut off his airflow, but enough that Stiles' dick twitches between them, ready to explode. Being with Theo doesn't seem so bad. Not with the way his thrusts pull sounds from him he's never made before. Beautifully splitting the Omega's body in two just to hold him together with a singular grip on his throat.

Stiles' heart jolts in his chest as the vampire thrusts harder and faster. Pounding into him so quickly that the Omega is amazed the legs of the bed haven't broken with how much they're creaking. Or that he’s not breaking either. Must be part of being an Omega.

"You're mine," Theo nips at his jaw and the human gasps. Eyes rolling back as the friction of the Alpha's abs on his cock and barrage to that perfect spot inside him make him cry out. Shooting his cum in thick spurts all over their chests. The vampire hums in approval, "So perfect, Stiles. Perfect and mine," he groans. And a few sharp thrusts later, Theo fills his mate with his hot release. Leaving Stiles beautifully full and his head foggy as all fuck.

But like Theo said, it's perfect.

He can't find a single complaint as the Alpha pulls out and settles them on their sides. Gently nipping at the nape of Stiles' neck as he pulls the Omega close. He can't even find it in himself to care that they're still laying backwards on the bed. Theo damn near fucked him into a coma and the fangs in his neck are keeping him there. Fine by Stiles, he's too high on post sex endorphins to speak or think. Quickly falling asleep in the Alpha’s warm embrace, dreaming of the day he asks Theo to turn him.

52 notes • Posted 2021-10-18 02:20:23 GMT

#4

For Derek Hale appreciation week!!

For Day 2: Missing moments/Quotes

I did quotes for Derek and then a list of my favorite quotes he's said ❤ @softranswolves

Favorite Quotes:

"The bite is a gift."

"I may not be an Alpha anymore, but I can still fight like one."

"We don't like you. Now shut up and help us."

"No, I was evolving. Something you'll never do."

"Stiles, this no fit."

"Does anyone want to try not being completely predictable?"

"I'm a predator. But I don't have to be a killer."

"I'm gonna rip your throat out. With my teeth."

"I'm not teaching you how to fight. I'm teaching you how to survive."

52 notes • Posted 2021-11-23 13:26:59 GMT

#3

Eichen House

When Stiles said he was worried about Scott finding out about Donovan, he thought that the wolf would kick him out of the pack, worst case scenario. Stiles never once imagined his so-called best friend would call him Void- to his face- and lock him back up in Eichen. The wolf said that he doesn’t even recognize Stiles anymore and convinced the sheriff to send him away.

He’s been there for weeks on end. 

There’s only one other person who knows for a fact the Nogitsune is gone: Theo. He may want Stiles to tap into the beautiful darkness that’s inside him. But that’s because it’s Stiles’ darkness, not some nonexistent evil fox spirit. Just his perfect, sweet, spaztic Stiles with a taste for chaos. Once the chimera realized that he actually cared for- loved- Stiles only to hear Scott lock him up, he was pissed.

It took him barely any time to plan. Killing Scott was easy. Theo made sure the wolf knew that he was doing it for Stiles. That getting his Alpha spark was just a bonus. Gathering a pack was harder, but he’d do anything for Stiles. So breaking into Eichen was the easiest decision he’s ever made.

We’re not here to visit.

We’re here for Stiles Stilinski.

Seeing the perfect boy crying and strapped to a chair in the basement enraged Theo like nothing else. Stiles deserved better. The chimera would give him better. Take care of him and love him properly. Unlike Scott, Theo wouldn’t care if Stiles did anything wrong or morally strained.

“I’ve got you, Stiles,” Theo wipes the tears on his cheeks. Slicing through the restraints, the chimera reaches out, “you’re mine now, okay?”

Stiles doesn’t even question it, just throws himself into the chimera’s arms and lets Theo save him. Trusting that once Theo gets him out of Eichen, he’ll be safe with him. 

66 notes • Posted 2021-10-04 18:09:10 GMT

#2

Have some mood boards because I can't focus on writing actual words 🤷‍♀️

85 notes • Posted 2021-10-16 21:22:46 GMT

#1

Pairing: Sterek

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Cora Hale, Lydia Martin, Alan Deaton, Sheriff Stilinski

Warnings: Mentions of Kate, feral fox Stiles

Words: 3228

@sterekweek-2021 Day 4: Wild Card

Ao3 link

Only You Can Calm Me Down

When Derek and Cora left for South America, the now True Alpha didn’t think much of it. Okay, he did, but not enough that the wolf changed his mind. If it meant keeping his little sister safe- Cora still needs time to heal, giving up his Alpha spark only did so much- there’s nothing that Derek wouldn’t do. Even if that particular choice meant leaving Stiles.

The boy Derek found himself head over heels for not two minutes after smelling him. Sure, the teen can be a bit annoying at times, but he challenges the Alpha. And his wolf likes that. Stiles gave up playing his first actual lacrosse game for him. And held Derek above water for two hours and there’s no way that was easy. Time and again the teen put Derek before himself. He can’t say that anyone’s done that for him since Kate murdered his family.

That’s another thing that made leaving easy. If he’s not in Stiles’ life, Derek won’t be like Kate. An adult chasing after a minor. Consensual or not. Because the wolf does know how the teen feels about him. He can smell it constantly. But not once has Stiles acted like said feelings exist for even remotely voiced them and that’s the important bit. There’s obviously a reason the teen’s never said anything and you’re not going to catch Derek pressing the issue.

Not even now. A few months after Stiles’ eighteenth birthday when the Alpha felt this putt to go back and tell him. He’s an “adult” now, yeah, but eighteen is still young. Even when Scott tells him that Stiles has been possessed by a nogitsune, the Alpha still stays away. Because there isn’t a doubt in Derek’s mind that if he returned to Beacon Hills to save the teen, he’d make damn sure that Stiles came home with him. Get out of that hellhole for good.

But every time the wolf grabbed his keys, he thought of Cora or Kate and put them right back.

Stiles got better. Or so Derek was told. Scott bit the nogitsune and Stiles was back to normal. A fox now, apparently- some remnants were left behind- but the teen’s version of normal all the same. Scott told him how Stiles is doing and that his first full moon was coming up and it was shaping to be a bad one. He wanted nothing more than to go there. Help Stiles through it as his Beta. Anchor him like the teen’s done for him countless times.

His keys still never made it very far off the hook.

Not until two days after said first full moon when the sheriff called. Demanding the Alpha come back and fix his son because Scott is ‘doing a piss poor job’ and that he needed to do something. Derek had his mouth open for a rebuttal, utterly shocked that the sheriff was actually calling him. But both Cora and Noah shut him up with two sucker punches. His sister’s was throwing his keys and jacket- too distracted to catch- right at his head, telling him Stiles deserves a proper pack; family. The sheriff’s was saying he knows about both of their feelings and forced Stiles to not speak a word until he’s eighteen. Stiles just got a little sidetracked. Can’t really blame him when an evil fox spirit decides to take home in your brain.

The two wolves were headed for the airport less than three minutes later.

Pissed doesn’t really come close to how Derek feels right now. As he got closer to Beacon Hills, this cord of sorts started to tug at his chest and make him nauseous. His wolf started snarling the minute the plane landed and hasn’t stopped in the Uber on the way to the Stilinski house. Why exactly, Derek doesn’t now. Logic would say Stiles. But things feel so bad- so wrong. If Stiles is hurt or dying and no one told him sooner, the Alpha is going to lose it. But it’s the only explanation the wolf can think of as to why he hurts so much right now.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Cora asks as the car comes to a stop in the familiar driveway.

“Thank you,” Derek tells the driver before tipping him and getting out, his sister following. “For Stiles?”

“Anything,” she nods, rounding the vehicle, “right. Well, let’s go see what’s wrong with your boy,” Cora nudges him with her elbow.

The joke only just calms his wolf. He’d stop at nothing to make that statement true. They pass the squad car, Scott’s bike, Lydia and Deaton’s cars on their way to the door. Something is very wrong if the banshee and druid are here and the sheriff isn’t working on a Friday evening. Anger sours into anxiety when the front door yanks open before either wolf can raise their hand to knock.

The sheriff looks exhausted and his arms are covered in scratches. “What the hell happened?” Derek asks.

“Stiles,” Noah sighs, gesturing them inside. Both Hales’ eyebrows rise as the three head towards the dining room, the smell of coffee drowning out any other. “He hasn’t had the best time with his transition,” the sheriff leans against the archway, waiting for the wolves to follow.

“So I hear,” Derek says, coming up behind him, Cora making her way into the room and sitting at the table across from Scott. “But what am I supposed to do to help? Scott’s his Alpha, not me,” scratches from upstairs catch his ears as the wolf makes it into the dining room.

“I don’t think I am,” Scott argues, sat next to Lydia with Deaton at one of the heads. “I can’t get him to listen to me no matter what I’ve tried. He attacks me every time. He even attacked his dad,” the wolf says while the sheriff takes his place at the other head.

“Why would he-“ more scratches echo in his ears and a growled whine twists Derek’s stomach. “What is that?”

“What do you know about feral behavior, Derek?” Deaton asks with a gentle smile.

The Alpha stands stalk straight. No. Not Stiles. “You succumb to the animal. Become irrational and volatile,” he says blandly, still burning with anger that it’s this bad and he wasn’t told a word.

The druid nods, “and do you know why it can happen?” There’s a lightness to his tone that sets Derek’s teeth on edge. Of course he knows and is going to make the Alpha jump through hoops.

“Trauma,” the wolf grits out. A nogitsune would certainly leave its mark. “If a wolf or a fox feels separated from its pack, the bond can hurt them rather than help them.” Did Stiles really see Derek as his Alpha and not Scott? Stiles would’ve said something, he would’ve have just went on like this. Right?

“Or?”

His mother mentioned it once after Paige died. That a wolf can go insane if it feels as though their mate has rejected them or when they die. A lead pipe to the face would hurt less than that realization. Deaton is trying to tell him that they’re mates. That this is essentially Derek’s fault. Cora whips her head in his direction when she comes to the same conclusion. Eyes wide and a smile breaks on her face.

“Fuck,” Derek hisses under his breath. No wonder he’s been so angry since he landed in California. His wolf started to feel the bond the closer he got and could sense their mate’s distress.

“I wasn’t able to help him” Lydia comments as though he needed more proof that what the druid is saying is correct.

Everyone knows how Stiles feels- felt?- about the banshee. Derek takes a steady breath and turns to the sheriff, his eyes flick towards the stairs, silently asking for permission. For everything. Forgiveness. To save Stiles and finally be with him. Should he even want the wolf anymore. But fuck it all if Derek won’t try. Noah eyes him for a moment before he nods and the Alpha’s feet carry him towards the stairs immediately. Taking them two at a time.

“Derek!” Scott calls.

“It’s okay,” Deaton assures, “Stiles won’t hurt him.”

The scratching and growling gets worse the closer Derek gets to Stiles’ room. The Alpha is preparing himself for anything at this point. With all the extra burned coffee beans, there’s no way Stiles can smell him either. Sure, the fox heard him, but he has no way of knowing that’s who’s coming to his room.

Opening the door might as well have been another punch in the gut. Like someone yanked Derek’s heart right out of his chest and curb stomped it right in front of him. Locked up in a small cage surrounded by mountain ash is a little gray and black fox with glowing blue eyes. Right, Allison. The animal whines the second the iridescent orbs focus on the Alpha. The angry snarl that ripples through the wolf is entirely involuntary, but he means every shred of rage.

Stiles. His sarcastic, smart, beautiful, perfect Stiles has the capability to fully shift and is stuck that way. Because of him. Because Derek left him thinking it would be for the best. What’s that saying? The road to hell is paved with good intentions? The Alpha can still fix this. Of that much he’s sure. So he steps into the room, closing the door behind him, every movement tracked by the still whining fox. Derek drops- more like crumbles- to his knees on the carpet near the black ring. He yanks his leather jacket off and throws it in the general direction of the desk, not really caring if that’s where it lands.

Not when Stiles is in this state.

The wolf prefers a neat and tidy room typically. But right now he’s never been more grateful for how messy the fox’s room is. To his right, the Alpha grabs one of Stiles’ shirts and lays in on the line of ash, dragging the fabric until it breaks the barrier. Stiles hops up on his paws, eyes glowing blue once more and fervently clawing at the gate.

“It’s okay, Stiles,” Derek speaks gently, reaching for the latch. No sooner is the door open does the wolf find himself on his back with four paws on his torso and Stiles snarling in his face. “It’s me,” the wolf says in the same soothing tone, but the fox gets angrier. “Stiles!” Derek growls with red eyes and fangs, using enough of his Alpha voice to get his point across.

But it works. Stiles’ eyes return to amber and his stance relaxes until he slumps on the wolf’s chest. His wet nose tucked into Derek’s neck, breathing heavily. Just as the Alpha is about to curl his fingers in the fox’s fur, the bedroom door opens.

“I heard you yell and then it got too quiet- shit!” Scott yelps as Stiles springs into action.

Luckily Derek’s reflexes were faster and he easily grabs the snarling fox mid lunge at his best friend. “Get out!” He snaps at Scott and he stares at Stiles writhing in his arms, trying to gnash is teeth at the younger wolf. “I’ve got him, close the fucking door!” The True Alpha swiftly does so, mumbling an apology as he goes. “It’s okay, Stiles,” Derek coos, stroking the fox along his spine to calm to thrashing limbs, “he’s gone. It’s just me and you.”

The bundle of black and gray fur starts to relax again in the Alpha’s hold, draping its tail over Derek’s arm as the wolf leads them over to his bed. Derek sits down on the mattress scooting up until his back is against the head board, slouching just a touch to be more comfortable and ensure the fox can curl as close as he wants. Stiles seems to appreciate it as his head flops on Derek’s chest to listen to his heartbeat. Hopefully Scott is smart enough not to come back upstairs. How the hell he supposed to bring Stiles back if they get interrupted and just makes the fox backtrack?

“I’m sorry I left you, Stiles,” the Alpha lifts a hand to the fox’s small head and starts to scratch him behind the ears and the huffed breath slows to something much closer. The intense anger ebbs a little closer to content so the wolf continues speaking softly. “I promise, if when you come back you’re still willing to be with me, I’ll never leave you again. I’ll stay in Beacon Hills if that’s what you want. I will stop at nothing to make you happy, Stiles. You’re so fucking perfect, I’ve loved you for so fucking long, but I didn’t want to be like Kate. I-I couldn’t do that to you. To your dad.’

‘You are my mate and I can’t believe I didn’t figure that out sooner. I hope you can forgive me,” the Alpha whispers, afraid to break the air of calm he’s managed to form around them. The fox starts to purr on his chest so Derek presses on. “You are the smartest person I know and I can’t wait to listen to you talk about the most random topics for hours. I’ve always liked that you know? I may have acted like I didn’t, but I’ve always loved the way your brain works, Stiles.” The wolf runs his other hand along Stiles’ side and the purring increases until his skin starts to shift and a very naked, human Stiles lays on top of him.

A violent blush burns Derek’s cheeks and ears seeing every bit of flesh he’s only ever dreamed about. Left to his imagination as to just how many moles cover Stiles’ perfect skin. Blue eyes look up at him, a soft growl rumbling Stiles’ chest, focusing but not really seeing the wolf. At the foot of the bed sits a pair of blue plaid pajama bottoms and the Alpha reaches for them. Somehow getting the fabric on both of the teen’s legs and up to his waist. Stiles actually let him be jostled around to do it, all the while eying the wolf with intense curiosity.

Once settles back down, the fox props his chin on the Alpha’s stomach while Derek cars his fingers through the brown strands. The other cups Stiles’ neck, running his thumb along the pulse to scent the skin, the purring vibrates the pad making him smile. “You’re almost there, please come back to me.” The Alpha worries his lip for a moment, “I will never let you go, do you understand me? Ever. Just, please, come back. I need to hear your voice. I- I need you.”

Blue irises fade to amber pools before they’re pinched closed, hidden completely when Stiles drops his forehead. Sniffling softly, the fox rubs his head along the Alpha’s stomach. His fingers curl tightly into the fabric at Derek’s sides and the wolf traces shapeless designs along the mole dotted back.

“Stiles?”

“Y-yeah,” he whispers, voice hoarse from lack of use.

“Are you okay?” A stupid, loaded question for sure, but one that needs to be asked regardless.

Stiles lifts his head to look at the wolf with bloodshot eyes, “I think so. But Derek, I-I attacked my dad. How am I supposed to come back from that?”

Pinching his lips together in a empathetic smile Derek says, “he’s not mad at you. None of them are. You have nothing to come back from, Stiles. You’re here and that’s all anyone is going to care about.” The Alpha looks at him thoughtfully, cupping both cheeks, “it’s all I care about.” The fox whimpers and leans into the touch, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you. It’s a weak excuse, but I didn’t know. Not just that we’re mates, but I had no idea you saw me as your Alpha and not Scott. I’d have never left if I’d known. I wish you had told me how you were doing rather than Scott. Why? Why didn’t you call me?”

“You left to heal,” he clears his throat, still a little rough and gritty.

“Okay?”

Stiles sits up and tries to pull away, but the wolf won’t have that. Not when he’s finally got the fox where he’s always wanted him to be. So the Alpha pulls Stiles’ legs until they’re straddling his hips, making sure Stiles can’t shy away from eye contact. The Beta rests his hands on Derek’s shoulders and the wolf’s find his hips.

“How can you heal if I’m calling and texting you all of Beacon Hills’ problems?”

“I’d have wanted to know your problems,” Derek rebukes. “I care about you, Stiles. I always have. If it had been you calling me, I’d have come back sooner. I know your dad asked you to wait until you were eighteen before telling me. I get that part, trust me.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Stiles asks and the Alpha gives him a pointed look with raised brows. “Kate,” the fox surmises with a sigh. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I remember all of it, you know? My dad, uh,” he pats the Alpha’s chest, “he told me that if he knew we were mates too, that he’d have let me say something to you. Probably would’ve shot down literally any mention of sex, but as long as we kept it PG-13, he’d have been okay with us being together.”

“Is that still something you want?” Derek asks in a voice so low had Stiles not been supernatural now, he wouldn’t have heard it. “Me, I mean.”

Whiskey eyes widen comically large as he tosses his head around making Derek snort. “Are you fucking kidding me? You think that I’m gonna say no? To you? In what fucking world is Derek Hale afraid of rejection from me? You just called me your mate, told me you love me, and brought me back from being trapped as a fox.”

“Stiles.”

But the fox is still going, “I’ve wanted to be with you since I was sixteen years old, Derek. There’s nothing now that I’m of age and you’re fucking here that’s going to keep me from you. Nothing. Do you understand that? Nothing, Derek. I-“ Stiles gets cut off with an mmph as the wolf crashes their lips together. The fox goes limp in his arms, pressing their chests together until their heartbeats collide beautifully.

Derek wants more, so much more, but he forces himself to pull back. Get a good look at Stiles’ swollen, slick red lips and hooded amber eyes. “I’ve missed your rambling, but I really needed to finally do that.”

“More,” Stiles mumbles as he slots their mouths again, begging for entrance that’s willingly granted though control is immediately given to Derek. Neither care that Scott can hear them from downstairs and both are exceptionally grateful that no one in the group has come back up. Leaving the two in their own little bubble of togetherness. To bond and scent each other and just be. Loving every second of Stiles curling back up to him and tucking his face into Derek’s neck, falling asleep in the wolf’s arms.

The Alpha can’t think of a single thing that feels better than this.

191 notes • Posted 2021-10-28 17:33:15 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[svtskneecaps]

Walls Could Talk Part 40 ~ an apology long overdue

< Prev | First | Masterlist | 40 Bonus | Next >

the bonus part is the contents of the footage in real time; it’s a bonus just in case it’s too much for someone bc derek sucks lmao. it will be going up at the same time as this post, so i can’t link it right away, but IF YOU’RE SEEING THIS, IT’S UP

(Seventeen Fic, Superpower! Non-Idol! High school! AU)

You’re just a high school kid trying to survive your senior year. Seems simple enough. Problem is, you landed a major crush on a good looking transfer student, and unfortunately, the both of you are hiding some abilities that are a bit less than normal, and there’s a ghost you thought you buried in your past that’s rearing his ugly head. So… maybe this won’t be as easy as you were hoping.

THIS STORY FEATURES POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING CONTENT. main themes include: abuse, references to suicide, and anxiety. if you have anything that needs addressed / tagged and you are concerned, please see this list of more specific warnings(includes a mild spoiler) or send me an ask / message (anon is on) and i will make sure it gets tagged. i want you to be safe reading this story.

alright lads, stay tuned for the profiles for the next one, i’ll probably be posting those monday or tuesday at the usual time. until then, one more part to go. thanks for reading.

FINAL WALLS COULD TALK PART GOES UP WEDNESDAY, JUNE 3

Tag list: @uglyratlmao @lowkeycarat @princeofshenzhenuwus @snowyseungs @angelmingyu

[thethirdwheel404]

Med Rewatch Series (#10)

S3 E10: Down By Law.

Episode Description: Dr. Manning sustains an injury while helping a drive-by victim and Dr. Rhodes finds himself in uncomfortable waters.

Connor being in ‘uncomfortable waters’? I can hear Ava bullying him already.

(also i wrote a little thing abt maggie giving ava a red bull so enjoy that little bit of content)

Let’s get into it.

-barry just yeeted natalie against a car holy shit that’s fucking hilarious

-will needs to chill the fuck out

-YESSSSS

-THIS WHERE CONNOR BRINGS THE WOMAN HE WENT OUT WITH UP FOR MEDICAL TREATMENT. AND THEN AVA HARASSES HIM FOR IT.

-this is one of the most iconic ava moments. (it’s first thing that pops up under the tumblr tag)

-ava overhearing connor not knowing his date’s last name. and ava walking over, already getting ready to make fun of him. barely concealing her smile

-the confidence with which she set down the file. she was too prepared and too excited

-this could just turn into a list of ava quotes

-”It must be hard, remembering all their names.”

“You know I read Derek Jeter used to send his conquests home with a gift basket. But a full cardio work up is... It’s much classier.”

-ava bekker secret baseball fan?

-Connor: “Jeter? You a baseball fan?”

Ava: “Oh, no. It’s much too boring. But I love gossip.”

-interesting. very, interesting... is it weird to anyone else to think about ava liking gossip?

-like the idea is fun and all but i hate the idea of ava being suuuper obsessed with gossip. it makes her seem way too shallow in my book. that being said, one of my hcs about women gossiping about all the shit men do to ava bc they know she’ll call them on it now has a lot more precedence

-i know she explicitly says that baseball is boring but i can’t get the idea of ava being a secret baseball fan out of my head. its just so novel

-HER SHIT EATING GRIN

- Connor: “Well, we will get you in and out of here as quickly as possible.”

Ava: “That’s what Dr. Rhodes is renowned for around here. Quick in and outs.”

Connor: *turns to her condescendingly*

Ava: *two finger salute* “I’m Dr. Bekker, by the way.”

-the lesbian icon jumped out

-also the fact that in the previous episode Ava’s mentor did the exact same salute. idk what it means but it’s not that important

-ava trying to hide her smile when asking the woman if she wanted them to contact her husband

-ava overhearing again when latham tells connor the woman he was with was doing cocaine

-ava smirking when connor says that he thinks the heart attack was from his sex and not the cocaine

-connor thinking he’s so good at sex he’s going to give this woman a heart attack

-he really drives All the ladies wild in EveryWay (sex, suicide. he’s the whole package)

-latham asking connor point blank “did you partake in the cocaine?”

-the ct team gives connor so. much. shit. it’s so funny

-also. ava just chillin at her desk looking at scans? that’s the kind of content i want to see. just her just being there. doing her own thing. that’s what i want

-THE GUY WITH A TEENAGE WIFE IS A REVEREND HOLY SHIT

-counting down the minutes til natalie drops dead (passes out but yk a girl can dream lol)

-sarah. back at it again with her rayon jacket and button up and backpack. the coffee cup only adds to the aesthetic

-connor being surprised that latham isn’t gonna let him do surgery on the women he fucked (twice, he might add)

- whatever you do, don’t think of a brown bear. are you thinking about it?

-maggie dealing red bull to people who need it. that’s a very soft idea

- ex:

Dr. Bekker is sitting at the desk in the ED. Well, sleeping, more like it. Her head is resting on her fist, her elbow precariously close to slipping off the the chair armrest, and her eyes open by just a hair.

“Dr. Bekker.”

Ava jolts awake.

“Maggie,” Ava says, strong accent cutting through, acknowledging the person standing over her. Hastily, she adjusts her jacket and scrubs, smoothing them back into place.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this tired.”

Ava shrugs, seamlessly slipping back into easy confidence.

“Rough couple of cases. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Uh huh,” Maggie says, unbelieving.

She sets a can of Red Bull on the desk with a knowing look.

“You need this more than anybody.”

Ava scoffs. “Those things? They are murder on your heart, come on.”

Maggie hums and walks away. Ava watches her leave, and when she’s out of sight, Ava darts forward, grabs the energy drink, immediately cracking it open and downing half of it.

- anyway.

- @punksarahreese that’s on you for making me believe ava loves energy drinks

- let’s continue

- sarah looking at charles telling her not to do something: I am not going to do a thing you said

- go off babe. it was the wrong decision but go off

- all the nurses watching this guy call nat a bitch:  👀 👀 👀 👀

- will being like: god that guy called you a bitch i fucking hate him

- and natalie being like: he is also refusing to let us treat the 14 yr olds cancer but you obviously have priorities

- sarah is so logical. she’s good at talking to people. can you FUCKING IMAGINE IF SHE HAD BETTER GUIDANCE (oh and less trauma)

- this is also the one with that hilarious screen cap of sarah holding a knife

- the way she is so calm about handing this patient a knife gives me anxiety

- THIS SCENE IS SO HARD TO WATCH IT SCARES ME SO MUCH

- sarah just in alone in a room with a man who keeps having visions of stabbing his wife. and her just handing him a fucking knife oh my god i have too much anxiety for this

- rewatching the series and getting completely confused bc norma is 5′7″ but she looks so short next to colin and the guy who plays latham

- AND RACHEL IS ALSO 5′ 7″ BUT THEY BOTH LOOK SO SHORT - WHY EVERYONE ON THIS SHOW SO TALL

- anyway. ignore that that’s not important

- I... the parallels btwn sarah offering this guy the ability to slit her throat (for therapy) and ava cutting her throat... i don’t know what to do with this information

- idk but sarah holding the knife got me feelin some type of way

- the way connor looks at ava with such contempt bc she... does her job (and his but yk) especially during the hug wtf dude honestly just stop looking at her

- this is also the episode where ava pawns off the patient’s hug onto connor. while yeah, it could ava just being annoying to connor by forcing him to hug his one night stand’s husband, but she did give connor due credit. (and something to be said about her being confused and a tad uncomfortable when the patient hugs her, which is why she pawns it off to rhodes)

- she also doesn’t hug the guy back, which is kind of funny, she never moves her arms and just shrugs out of it

- and like after the hug she takes a few steps away from the guy, really not wanting any more physical contact or attention

- there’s something interesting in ava’s expression when connor gets hugged by the guy, can’t quite explain it. i’m gonna go with it’s her trying to keep a straight face while connor hugs a man he just helped a woman cheat on, but that’s not all of it so

- or. okay, I think i got it. i think that that little expression when connor gets hugged is her rolling her eyes at him getting credit when ava did most of the heavy lifting. yes. final answer. i’m satisfied

- and her looking away from them is her stopping herself from laughing, bc connor is obviously not enjoying this

- and he’s so sad and angsty he can’t even play along with the jokes

- and ava smiling at him with pity as she walks in to talk to the patient, bc that’s really what it is. she feels bad for him bc connor is so obviously lonely

- and connor’s annoyed bc ‘dammit she does have a right to pity me i suck rn’

- med pushing the women are tough agenda LITERALLY SHUT THE FUCK UP

- you hate your women characters so much just fucking shut your mouth

- and will being like ‘ i have a lot to learn about women not being objects’

- and nat saying ‘you are way further along than most’ like no, he’s not. the bar is on the ground and he still can’t jump it

- i’m pretty sure this show doesn’t pass the bechdel test. holy fucking shit it doesn’t. you’ve gotta be kidding me. (at least this episode doesn’t)

I can’t believe this episode didn’t pass the bechdel test. The only convo btwn two women were like maggie and sharon and they talk about barry and oh my god this is infuriating god med the bar is so low. And I’m pretty sure most episodes don’t pass the test anyway. Will is literally the representation of med. He gets lots of credit for doing bare minimum things like giving women rights.

Anyway.

This was a good episode. We dissected a lot of unspoken Ava things, which is very good. Ava had a lot of moments where she was there, but didn’t say anything, and when your characters can do that, that’s when you know your characterization is very good.

The moments where Ava isn’t really doing anything to forward the plot of the episode but she’s still just there, doing her own thing, are hands down my favorite. Her sitting at the desk looking at a scan while connor tells latham he didn’t do cocaine could possibly my favorite ava moment in the series, just bc it shows how much of her own character should could’ve been.

I drew an interesting parallel btwn sarah offering the guy to slit her throat and ava’s death. i have nothing for that but go wild

This episode also showed us Ava pitying Connor, another new aspect. she gives him shit but she also pities him. very good ep for little ava moments

as always, thanks for sticking through it

-

read the rest here:

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Extra

[prettyboyspenceee]

Chapter 2 - Saved

A/N: Yay! Part 2! I hope all you like it! Keep liking and reblogging!

Description: Olivia’s hidden talent and sleeping arrangements are revealed. 

Character Appearances: Olivia Morales, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan

 Disclaimer: I don’t own Criminal Minds, sorry to disappoint! I do own Olivia Morales and other surprise characters.

Word Count: 1,548

Posted: October 27th, 2019

---

5 Months Later

Olivia took cases with kids hard. The case that the team had just closed reminded her that she just couldn't save everyone, no matter how hard she tried. 

Usually, after a case, Olivia and Spencer had a tradition of getting takeout from their favorite Mexican restaurant and eating in one of their apartments. It was something that they had between the two of them, separate from the team. 

Dinner was at Spencer's apartment tonight. He was playing Beethoven on his radio as they ate. 

"Hey, Liv, are you okay?" 

Olivia looked up from her food and gave Spencer a weak smile, "I will be." 

Spencer nodded. He felt the same way. 

After the pair finished dinner, Olivia went back to her apartment. Spencer couldn't help but feel worried for his friend, his heart ached when he saw her in pain. 

--- 

Olivia slipped on her oversized Georgetown shirt and her way too short sleep shorts. She took a deep breath and drifted to sleep.

On the other side of the hallway, Spencer was in the middle of his third book of the night when he first heard the screaming. He threw his book down, grabbed his gun and rushed out into the hallway. 

When he realized that the screaming was coming from Olivia's apartment, his blood turned cold. He quickly grabbed the spare key and rushed into Olivia's apartment. 

He found her in the bedroom, screaming. 

"Olivia! Liv! Wake up!" Spencer said, frantically shaking her awake. 

Olivia sat up and looked at Spencer with wide eyes that were filled with tears. 

"Spence?"

"Hey, Liv. You're okay, it's going to be okay."

Spencer pulled Olivia into a tight hug and she let out gut-wrenching sobs.

As Olivia calmed down she pulled away from Spencer and wrapped herself in the covers of her bed, "God, I'm so sorry, Spence. This is so embarrassing."

"Don't ever apologize. We all get them."

She nodded, "Oh no. Your shirt is soaked."

He smiled, "It's fine. I like my shirts soggy anyway."

"Let me get you another shirt," Olivia untangled herself from the bedsheets and went to get Spencer another shirt. 

Spencer was a gentleman, but he couldn't help but stare at the exposed leg of his coworker. His heart raced when he saw her every morning on their way to work, but this was different. Spencer felt like his heart was on fire. 

He was sucked out of his train of thought by a shirt being thrown in his face, "Hey!" 

He heard Olivia laugh, "You're welcome!"

Spencer quickly pulled off his wet shirt with ease, completely forgetting he was in Olivia's bedroom.

Olivia sucked in a breath, Spencer had abs. They weren't six-pack abs like Derek's, but they were abs. Olivia never noticed how defined his muscles actually were. Olivia's heart soared when she saw Spencer, but now her heart was racing. 

She was thankful for the dimmed light in her bedroom so Spencer couldn't see the blush that was slowly rising to her face. 

"Uh - I'll guess I'll head out then?" Spencer said.

"No!" 

Spencer looked at Olivia with concern, "I mean... can you stay?"

"Of course,” Spencer was never one for physical contact, but he felt safer with Olivia, he welcomed all physical contact with Olivia, big or small.

Olivia smiled and crawled back into bed, "Lay down, Spence. I promise I don't bite." 

Spencer laughed, "I really hope you don't." 

Needless to say, both Spencer and Olivia slept like babies. 

--- 

"Hey, Mouse? Late night?" Morgan asked Olivia. 

Olivia smiled, "Something like that." 

Garcia came rushing into the bullpen before Morgan could reply, "Hey guys, we have a case." 

By Garcia's expression, Olivia could tell it was a bad one. 

"Garcia, what do we got?" Rossi asked. 

"Orlando, Florida. Elle Newbury, Michael Yung, Patrica Martinez, and Lauren Marks were all killed 2 weeks apart. All were found 3 miles away from each other, and they were all," Garcia shuddered, "missing their tongues."

"Well, the unsub crosses gender and racial lines. The removing of tongues could be symbolic, he might want to silence them," Olivia said. 

"Or he could just be some sicko keeping the tongues as souvenirs," Emily mentioned. 

"Aren't they all sickos?" JJ asked. 

The team hummed in agreement, "What do you think Reid?" Morgan asked. 

"Liv took the words straight out of my mouth." 

"Spencer Reid? Speechless?" Olivia laughed. 

"Since when does Reid call you Liv?" Emily said with a smirk. 

"Since Morgan has been calling me Mouse," Olivia replied with a smirk that could make Emily's wither with shame.

"Alright everybody, wheels up," Hotch announced. 

--- 

The team had been in Orlando for a week and Olivia hated it. The body count for this unsub was racking up and the team couldn't figure out why. 

Olivia and Spencer were working the case on a couch in the local police department and they were both running on no sleep, just coffee. It wasn't long before the pair fell into their habits and they fell asleep together. 

"Oh my god," Emily whispered. 

"Garcia is going to have a field day with this," JJ said with a quiet laugh.

"Do we wake them?" Derek asked.

"Let them be, we'll brief them later," Rossi said, entering the conference room.

"Okay. But what about Hotch?" JJ asked. 

"It's fine. They need rest, their minds are overworked," Hotch said as he entered the conference room. 

Olivia turned in her sleep and the team watched as Spencer unconsciously pulled her closer to him. 

"Oh god, JJ, please tell me you got that on video," Morgan pleaded. 

"I'm sending it to Garcia as we speak."

---

"It's the unsubs personal vendetta!" Olivia announced. 

"How do you know, Livvy?" Emily asked her. 

"It was bothering me that the victims seemed to have no connection, so I had Garcia do some digging. It turns out that all of the victims were a part of the same AA group." 

"How did we miss this?" Hotch asked. 

"AA is anonymous. The victims never told their families and Garcia said it never showed on their records because they ALL used aliases. Anyways, I called some members of the group and although they were reluctant, they gave me the information we need. It turns out that one week before the killings started, a man named Max Gerard lost his 10-year sobriety chip, he came in screaming saying that it was the group's fault." 

"That has to be the trigger," Rossi said. 

"Do we have an address?" Spencer asked. 

"Yup, Garcia just sent it over now," Olivia replied. 

--- 

"Reid, Rossi, and JJ, I want you to go through the back. Morales and Prentiss, I want you to watch the windows, we have to assume that he's armed and he's willing to shoot his way out. Morgan, you're with me," Hotch gave his orders and everyone followed. 

It wasn't Olivia's first takedown but for some reason, she was uneasy.

Olivia took the right side of the house while Emily took the left side. 

"Gerard has Reid. Does anyone have a clear shot?" Olivia heard JJ through the coms.

Olivia felt her heart drop, "I don't have a clear shot," Emily said through the coms. 

The rest of the team confirmed that they didn't have a shot, "Morales? Do you have a shot?" Hotch asked. 

Olivia took a deep breath, "I do. Tell me when to take the shot." 

"Now!" 

Olivia took the shot and she watched as Gerard fell to the floor.   

She rushed into the house, "Spence! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

--- 

After the week-long case, the team was finally back on the jet. 

"Hey, Mouse, where did you learn how to shoot like that?" Derek asked. 

"I taught myself. Scored a 100 on every firearms test."

Derek scoffed, "Who knew that our 5'2 resident princess of the BAU was such a good shot."

"We all did," Rossi said. 

The rest of the team nodded and laughed at Derek's expression. 

The team occupied themselves with their own activities Olivia moved over to the couch Spencer was on. 

"Can I join you?"

"Yeah, of course," Spencer scooted over so Olivia could have space. 

"Liv, I - I wanted to thank you, for saving me." 

"Spence, earlier this week you saved me from a nightmare. Every time we sleep in the same bed, couch or chair, you save me. We save each other Spence, you don't have to thank me for that."

Spencer nodded, "I guess we really do save each other."

Olivia yawned, "Hell yeah we do." 

"Are you tired?" 

Olivia nodded, "Just a bit."

Spencer readjusted his position so he and Olivia could lay comfortably on the couch, "Sleep for a while. I'll wake you up when we land."

Olivia smiled, "Thanks, Spence." 

Olivia rested her head on Spencer's chest and she couldn't help but feel safe when Spencer wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer. 

Once again, Spencer and Olivia fell asleep in each other's arms. The team couldn't help but smile as JJ took another photo. 

"Hey, JJ, I feel like we should make a scrapbook of these," Emily suggested. 

"Don't worry, Pen's already working on it." 

--- 

Little Rock, Arkansas was where the first victim showed up. Richard Monroe was missing a pinky. He would be the first of many. 

--- 

tags: @reid-187​

[saveyourblood]

Stolen Dance | Ch. 3

Summary: “Maybe this was a pipe dream, a delusion you’d soon awake from or a phase you’d outgrow. You didn’t really care. For a brief moment in time, you were in love. That’s what you chose to care about. That what you made matter.”

The one where you’re a paramedic, he’s an FBI agent, and the time you spend together is borrowed.

Notes: 15k+ in and I still ain’t done. I’m like an annoying cockroach that lives under your fridge.

Word Count: 5k

Song: Someone to Stay - Vancouver Sleep Clinic

Warnings: starts out cute, ends up kind of dark. Mentions of kidnapping, trauma, usual CM warnings. 

_____________________

Clearing out your apartment was easier than you thought it would be; turns out, ever since you got back from Syria, you didn’t have much in terms of belongings. Being a soldier, you learned to pack light. You supposed you never made it out of that mindset. 

Saying goodbye to your parents was surprisingly easy. Of course, your dad couldn’t really argue, him being six feet under and all. You hoped he approved, wherever he was. Like your mom said — he’d want you to move on. 

Your mom managed to keep it together until the two of you were standing in the driveway, saying your ‘final’ goodbye. You caught her wiping away a few tears.

“Come on, mom, don’t cry,” you begged, pulling her into a hug.

“I’m just proud of you, honey,” she assured. She pulled away, setting her hands on your cheeks. “I’m a little sad, but mostly, I’m proud. I know this wasn’t an easy decision for you.”

“I’ll text everyday, and I’ll call you at least once a week,” you said. “I’ll be back for the holidays, too. And hey, maybe I’ll bring Spencer.”

“I can’t wait to meet him.”

You smiled and hugged your mom one last time. You got into your jeep, waved goodbye, and pulled out of the driveway. Only then did you let a few tears of your own fall.

They weren’t out of sadness, per se; you could feel the chapter ending, was all. You didn’t like endings. You didn’t like to say goodbye. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Spence,” you greeted warmly. You were standing at a gas station somewhere in Western Missouri — about halfway to Virginia.

“What are you doing up so early?” He asked. You could hear the sleep in his voice.

“Oh, shit, did I wake you up?” you said, feeling guilty. “I’ll call you back in a few hours.” 

“No, it’s okay,” he promised. “I like talking to you.”

You smiled again. “Do you like seeing me?” 

“Of course I do.”

“Can I take you out to breakfast Friday morning?” 

“How can you do that if you’re in Colorado?”

Your smile widened. “I never said I was in Colorado.”

“...You’re in Virginia?” He asked, confused.

“I’m on my way,” you answered. “I’m in Missouri now, so I should be there in two days.”

“Two days..?” He thought aloud. A moment of silence passed. “Oh my god, Y/N, are you driving?!”

“Of course I am,” you replied. “What else did you expect?”

“That’s over 1,500 miles!” He shouted. “Something could happen!”

You leaned against the jeep. “Like what?” “Anything! Your car could break down, your reservations could fall through, you could get kidnapped…”

“Spencer,” you said, cutting him off. “I lived in a warzone for 3 years. I can handle a 25-hour road trip.”

“Where are you? What’s your specific location in Missouri?” Spencer asked. You could hear shuffling.

“Does it matter?” “It does matter, because I’m gonna catch a flight,” he said. 

“No you are not!” You laughed. “I am fine, Spencer. I’m not letting you waste a couple grand on a last minute flight to Boondocks, Missouri.” He sighed. “What are your plans for tonight?”

“I have hotel reservations in Nashville,” you chuckled. “I should be there no later than 7 tonight.”

“And if you’re not?”

“Then I’ll call you,” you answered simply. “And if I don’t respond, I just gave your team a case. You’re welcome in advance.”

“This isn’t funny, Y/N!”

You covered your mouth to stifle your laughter. “You know, it’s a good thing we weren’t dating while I was in Syria,” you said, still giggling. “You wouldn’t have survived the first night, let alone 3 years.”

Silence.

“Spence, are you there?” you asked.

“You said we’re dating.” 

Your heart rate picked up. “Aren’t we?” you asked with a nervous chuckle. “I mean, you introduced me to your mom. Fuck-buddies don’t do that.” 

“I guess they don’t,” he ceded. You could practically see his smile. “Hey, why are you coming to Virginia anyways?”

“I can’t drive over 1,500 miles to see you?” you joked.

“You can, but you never have.”

That was a can of worms you didn’t feel like opening over the phone. 

“I’ll tell you when I get there,” you said. “I’ll call you at 7, let you know what’s going on.”

“Stay safe, okay Y/N?” 

You smiled. “Always.”

After filling up the jeep, you sat down in the driver’s seat with a sigh. You leaned your head back and closed your eyes for a moment. You wondered how Spencer would have reacted had you told him you had slept in your car the night before. 

You opened your eyes after awhile to see your dog tags hanging on the rearview mirror. You leaned forward, took them off, and  put them around your neck. You were closing a chapter in your life, so it seemed appropriate to remember the old ones. 

_____________________

You found your new apartment complex in no time, as it was only a few minutes from campus. You considered staying in the dorms, but ultimately decided against it for multiple reasons. It wasn’t much cheaper to live on campus, you being an out of state student, so financially, there was no benefit. Also, you’d been used to living on your own since the Army; you didn’t feel like living with a stranger in their early twenties at the oldest, 18 at the youngest. 

You parked in front so your stuff would be easier to move in. What you didn’t expect was seeing Spencer sitting on the front steps. 

“What are you doing here?!” you asked, jogging up to greet him. Without hesitation, you pulled him into a hug.

“I asked Garcia to do some digging,” he admitted. “You could have told me you were moving.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you grinned, pulling away. You brushed some hair out of his face.

“Believe me, I am surprised,” Spencer promised. Then, he grinned, grabbed you by the waist, and pulled you into a kiss. 

“You know, we can do this as much as we want now,” you said smugly after pulling away. 

“I guess so,” he smiled. He ran his thumb over your mouth, biting his bottom lip as he did so. 

“If you help me move in, I’ll let you stay the night,” you bribed, resting your arms on his shoulders. “We can order a pizza, watch a movie… do a little more than kissing.”

“You had me at ‘stay the night.’”

Just like moving out didn’t take much time, neither did moving in. Truthfully, you took the most time making your bed. The rest of your items were unpacked in less than an hour.

“Is this all of your stuff?” Spencer asked, looking around the bare room. 

You nodded. “Besides the stuff my mom has at home. I’m not very materialistic.” 

“Have you always been this way?” He inquired curiously.

“Ever since Syria,” you admitted. “Once you see how people in poverty live, a 70” flat screen doesn’t seem all that important, I guess.” 

Spencer took a seat on the couch. “You served for 3 years, right?”

“I thought you had an eidetic memory,” you teased, taking a seat beside him.

“I’m trying to be more conversational.”

“Just be yourself,” you encouraged. “I like you for you.”

He smiled, looking down.

“I was deployed for 3 years,” you said, despite him knowing the answer. “Served for a total of 5. I saw a lot of things. But no matter how bad it got, I knew the people in the situation had it so much worse. It’s like your work at the BAU — you see the worst of humanity, but you don’t suffer from it. It’s just your job to help the people that do.”

“Speaking of the BAU…” Spencer segued. “Have you called Hotch?”

“I… don’t know what to say,” you admitted. 

“I can talk to him for you, if you want,” Spencer offered.

“I’m a big girl: I can do it myself,” you replied. “Thank you, though.”

“Of course,” Spencer said, taking your hand.

Turns out, Spencer didn’t have to tell Hotch anything for him to figure out you were in Virginia. You got voicemail one afternoon, right after a different job interview. Hotch said he ‘got a hold of’ a letter of recommendation your former Sergeant Major wrote for you. He proceeded to say that, if you were still interested, he’d like to set up an interview. 

You called Spencer right away, and the minute you told him, he picked you up and spun you around with joy.

Who knew Virginia could be so great. 

_____________________

The hours before your interview was probably the most nerve-wracking moment of your life. You were terrified of failing, even more so than when you joined the Army. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you fluked this. 

“I’m gonna vomit,” you told Spencer, who was sitting at his desk in the BAU bullpen. Meanwhile, you were relentlessly pacing. “Or faint. Or both.” 

“You’re gonna do fine, Y/N,” Spencer assured. “I’ve never seen Hotch offer an interview to someone. As far as he’s concerned, you’re qualified.”

“Hey beautiful,” someone behind you remarked. You turned around to see Derek Morgan.

“Hey, Derek,” you smiled with some relief. 

“What brings you to Quantico?” He asked, taking a sip from his mug.

“An interview,” you answered simply. Had you continued, you would have rambled. It’s a nervous tick of yours.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “An interview for the BAU?”

You nodded. 

“Good luck, doll,” he said, patting your shoulder. “You’ll do great.” 

Suddenly, you felt Spencer take your hand. 

“Seriously, Y/N, you’ll nail it,” he promised. 

“Y/N Y/L/N?” Hotchner called from the balcony. 

You let go of Spencer’s hand, looking up. “Yes sir?”

“Ready when you are,” he said, then walked back into his office. 

You smoothed down your blouse, sucking in a breath. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it,” Spencer said with a smile. 

“Thanks,” you replied, taking a few steps towards the stairs. “Oh, and Spencer?”

He looked up.

“Jealousy doesn’t look good on you,” you said with a wink.

“She’s not wrong,” you heard Derek say before you made your way up the stairs. 

“Why do you think you’d be an asset to this team?” Hotchner asked.

You sat across from his desk, while Erin Strauss, the section chief, stood to the side. 

“Well, all of my former commanders speak very highly of me,” you started. “I was a combat medic in an active warzone for 3 years. I saved more lives than I can count, both civilian and fellow soldiers.” 

“While we appreciate your service,” Erin started, “all BAU agents hold a specific set of skills. What are your qualifications in terms of education?”

“I’m pursuing a degree in Psychology at the University of Virginia,” you informed. 

“What year are you in?”

“...I’ll be a freshman in a few months.”

Strauss shot Hotchner a look.

You pursed your lips, then let out a soft, almost inaudible chuckle. 

“Is something funny, Miss Y/L/N?” Stauss asked.

“No ma’am,” you assured. “It’s just… I’m twenty-five. I enlisted the second I turned eighteen, and I served my country for 5 years. Uncle Sam is paying for my degree, which I couldn’t pursue earlier, because like I said, I was serving my country.”

“And like I said, your service is appreciated,” Strauss countered. “But -”

“I get it,” you cut her off, feeling suddenly confident. “There are probably better candidates out there, at least on paper. You can hire someone that’s worked in the FBI for years, who’s taken the proper classes to become a profiler. I get it — they’re less of a risk. But I’m good in a crisis. I’ve worked in emergency medicine for 7 years, and for 3 of those years, I was being shot at while practicing. I could ace any physical or psychological evaluation you throw my way. And, even though it doesn’t mean much, I’ve been profiling since before I could spell my own name. Maybe there are better candidates out there, I honestly don’t know. But what I do know is that I could be pretty damn amazing, if you give me the chance. ...Ma’am.”

_____________________

Spencer invited you over for the night, but you couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than the interview. 

“I mouthed off to her,” you said, running your hands through your hair. “God, I’m an idiot. I’m never getting the job.”

“Y/N, come lay down,” Spencer said. His back was against the backboard, the book he was reading now in his lap. 

“I can’t, I’m pacing,” you mumbled, continuing to walk around his bedroom. 

Spencer didn’t say anything; he put his book on the nightstand, pulled the covers back, walked over to you, and set you down on the bed. He sat behind you and began rubbing your shoulders. 

“You’re smart, you’re strong, good under pressure, and more than qualified,” he said. “You’ll get a call back. Just give it some time.” 

You leaned into his touch, letting yourself relax for the first time all day. “You’re right. I’m sorry I’ve been so crazy. I just… really want this. I’m terrified that I ruined things for myself.”

“I’m sure you did better than you think,” Spencer said softly. “Strauss puts up a strong front, but she’s not as bad as she seems. All she wants is someone who can do the job well and stay out of trouble.”

You leaned your back against his chest. “Thank you,” you whispered. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his lips into your shoulder. You set your hands over his. 

You weren’t sure when the two of you fell asleep; all you knew is that you fell asleep on top of Spencer’s chest with your face buried in his neck. Normally, upon waking up, you would savor the moment. But this morning, your ringing phone woke you up. 

Carefully moving as to not wake Spencer, you untangled yourself from bed and picked up your phone on the 3rd ring. 

“Hello?” you asked, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Y/N?” The voice asked. “It’s Aaron Hotchner.”

Any fatigue in your body left at that exact moment.

“Yes, Sir. Good morning,” you greeted.

“I just heard back from Erin Strauss. Are you able to start Monday?”

“Yes! Yes, absolutely.” 

“That’s good to hear. I’ll see you 8AM sharp come Monday.”

“Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir,” you said, before wishing him goodbye. 

You hung up the phone, squealed, and began to jump around. You were so absorbed in your own happiness that you didn’t hear Spencer stir awake. 

“Good news?” He asked sleepily. 

Beaming, you leaned down and kissed him. “Great news.” 

_____________________

Your day started with a lot of formalities — you sat in an office with the head of HR,  learning about uniforms, insurance, and retirement plans. Your uniform was easy compared to virtually everyone else in the BAU; you had to wear a garment stating your job as a paramedic at all times. This came in two easy forms: a t-shirt or a bomber jacket, both provided by the Bureau. Apparently, you’re supposed to stick out in a crowd. You wondered if it was a rule for all medical personnel in the FBI, or if Strauss had something to do with it. 

The HR manager was about to get into 401ks when the two of you were interrupted.

“Oh good, you’re still here,” a high, chipper voice said from the doorway. “Y/N, we need you for a briefing.” 

You turned around in your chair to see a blonde woman dressed in bright clothing. From what Spencer had told you about the team, you guessed it was the one and only Penelope Garcia. 

“Already?” you asked, then looked back to the HR manager.

“Y/N hasn’t had any training,” he said slowly. “Can’t the team wait until the next case?”

“Talk to SSA Hotchner,” Garcia stated simply. “Until then, the medical goddess is mine.” 

You turned back to the manager. He sighed in resignation.

“We’ll talk later,” he dismissed you.

You smiled professionally. “I look forward to it,” you said pleasantly before exiting the room behind Garcia. 

“You’ve seriously had no training?” Garcia asked in disbelief. Her heels clicked loudly on the floor as she walked.

“Not with the FBI, no,” you confirmed. “My training so far has come from different jobs.”

“Sorry honey, but that won’t get you a gun,” Garcia said. 

She stopped dead in her tracks, which caused you to almost run into her.  Garcia merely stuck out her hand.

“I’m Penelope Garcia, by the way. Technical Analyst, genius extraordinaire,” she said. 

“Oh, I know,” you chuckled, but shook her hand anyways. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She frowned. “How so?”

“Oh, Derek talked about you before my interview,” you quickly recovered. “I was nervous, so I asked if he could distract me. You were the first thing that came to his mind, I guess.”

She smiled widely. “My sweet, sweet boy,” she sighed blissfully, and continued walking.

Thank god Spencer told you all about Penelope and Derek’s flirty relationship. 

You followed Garcia into a room with a round table and a few TV screens close to the far wall. Almost all of the team was already sitting somewhere at the table. 

“Everyone, this is Y/N, the BAU’s newest beauty,” Penelope said. She patted your arm. “Take a seat, my dear.” 

You smiled shyly, sitting in the first empty chair. You ended up between Prentiss and Rossi. 

“Aren’t you supposed to start next week?” JJ asked curiously.

“Yes,” someone from behind you answered. Hotch walked into the room. “Plans changed. Garcia?”

Garcia picked up a remote on the table and pointed it to the screen. She began to hand out files. “So, this boy was found two hours ago in the middle of nowhere — well, technically he was found outside of Crawford, Arizona. My point is, he has clearly been to super hell and escaped some sort of captivity.”

“How do we know he wasn’t just dropped off?” Derek asked.

“He has fresh cuts on the bottom of his feet from the local cactus fields, and that's away from any through roads, and his skin is rubbed raw around his ankles from chains,” Garcia answered. She maintained her composure, but hints of disgust and sympathy showed through.

Derek nodded, looking at the photos in his file. “He must have had the chance to escape and took it.” 

“Or the UnSub could have  had him in transit,” Emily purposed.

You looked at the photos of the boy. They were absolutely heartbreaking. The boy shied away from the camera — only one of them caught his face, which was covered in grime and framed by ungroomed hair. His clothes were tattered, and the skin he had showing was covered in scars. You couldn’t imagine what that sick bastard put this boy through for years.

“Look at the whites of his eyes — he’s jaundiced,” you observed. “He hasn’t seen Sun in… awhile. Garcia, have they figured out the boy’s age?” 

“They don’t even know his name,” Garcia said sadly. “He hasn’t spoken yet. They’re lucky they got the pictures they did.” 

“Are there any missing children in the area, Garcia?” Spencer chimed in.

“None until now, but Sir, you may have more information than I do?”

“I do. Earlier tonight another boy was reported missing in Flagstaff,” Hotch confirmed. 

“That’s not far — can’t be a coincidence,” JJ said.

“Technically it could, but Arizona has the lowest abduction rate in the country, so the chances of these cases not being related are ridiculously slim,” Spencer replied nonchalantly. 

“This is a child abduction case?” you asked, startled. “What do you need me for?”

“I’ll tell you on the jet. We need to get moving — every second is crucial. Wheels up in 15,” Hotch said, then dismissed himself from the room. 

Per Spencer’s advice, you packed a go-bag the day you got a phone call saying you were accepted. He kept yours at his desk, ‘just in case’ you needed it before you had a desk of your own. You’d have to thank him for that later.

You learned on the plane ride that you’d be working with the boy who escaped. As Garcia briefly mentioned, local law enforcement and even hospital staff had yet to break ground with him. It would be yours and Spencer’s duty to change that. 

You wanted to ask why you were needed again, but the answer eventually came to you: Hotch, or someone else on the team, thought you’d bond with him. Considering they knew almost nothing about you, they probably thought you’d bond over trauma. 

A thorough background check is done on anyone and everyone that has even the slightest bit of interest in joining the FBI. You understood that. You accepted that. But you knew the hacking abilities Garcia was capable of, and thanks to Spencer, you knew how protective she was of the team. That woman probably dug up some of your darkest moments, put screenshots in an email, and sent it to her boss like it was an everyday occurrence. Hotchner probably knew everything you went through overseas: the good, the bad, and the ugly. 

He knew you’d find a way to connect with the survivor. 

Hotch gave you a change of clothes on the plane; it consisted of a black t-shirt with the FBI decal as the left chest logo and ‘Paramedic’ written in big, white letters on the back. He also gave you a navy blue bomber jacket that, in terms of lettering, looked exactly like your shirt. You decided to leave the jacket off when you went to the hospital.

“You can’t examine his scars?” Spencer asked as the two of you followed the survivor’s doctor down the hall. 

“I can’t get close enough,” he corrected. “He has the most severe case of CER I’ve ever seen.”

“Conditioned Emotional Response,” you and Spencer said simultaneously. 

The doctor turned around for a brief moment. “You guys did your homework,” he remarked. 

“People experience and impose conditioned emotional responses almost every day,” Spencer continued. “In normal settings, CER is emotional discipline, or cause and effect. For example, if someone develops a fear of dogs after being bitten by one, that fear is a conditioned emotional response. After years of abuse, trauma, or toture, CER can be worse than PTSD.”

“He’s afraid of light and sound,” The doctor agreed. “We’re keeping it as dark and quiet for him as possible. He’s also been somewhere crammed — his legs show signs of advanced arthritis.” 

“Any idea how old he is?” You asked.

“It’s hard to tell. He has major skin and tooth decay, probably caused by the massive vitamin D deficiency.”

The doctor stopped walking when the three of you came to a door that was guarded by a police officer. 

“Best guess?” you pushed.

He sighed. “Maybe sixteen.”

“Thank you,” you told him, and he nodded before walking off. 

Spencer flashed his badge to the police officer in front of the door, and just like that, the two of you were let in. You clicked a button on the wall beside the officer, which opened the room’s automatic door. You followed Spencer inside.

The blinds drawn shut, and all medical gear in the room was turned off. The bed was empty, and the food on the tray was left untouched. You scanned the room, and eventually, you found the boy — he was curled up under the table in the corner of the room. You pulled the curtain in front of the door shut before approaching him. 

“Hey,” you said softly, crouching down on your knees. You kept a decent distance. “My name is Y/N, and this is my friend, Spencer.”

Spencer crouched beside you, offering him a wave. “Hello.” 

He cowered away, trying to make himself smaller. 

“We’re the good guys,” you promised, then paused. “Is it okay if I hang out with you for awhile?”

He didn’t respond, which you fully expected. Asking to stay wasn’t a formal request of yours; mostly, you wanted to silently show that he was allowed to be in control of some things.

You looked up at the stand, which held a plate full of fruit, an energy drink, and a bottle of water. Everything appeared untouched. You turned back to the boy, then briefly stood up to grab the water. 

“You must be thirsty,” you said, crouching back down. “Want some water?” 

You extended your arm, offering him the bottle. He swatted it out of your hand and across the room before backing up into the corner again.

“Okay, it’s okay,” you said gently, backing away to give him some more space.

“This is years of conditioning,” Spencer murmured. “I’ll go tell Garcia to expand the search.”

“Good idea,” you agreed. 

Spencer walked out, and with that, it was just you and the boy. 

You picked up the water bottle and sat against the foot of the bed. You let silence fill the room, hoping your lack of sound and movement would assure him you were nothing to fear. 

After awhile, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a quarter. You began rolling it across your fingers, stopping when the coin was wedged between your pinkie and ring finger. Then, you started over, and rolled it across your fingers again. You’d been practicing the trick for awhile: basically since you and Spencer met. It wasn’t his ‘disappearing’ trick, but it was fairly easy to learn and execute.

You eventually looked up to see the boy staring at you. He was still under the table, but his body wasn’t facing the wall anymore. You smiled softly and rolled the quarter across the floor. 

The boy laid it flat on the ground.

“I know you’re scared,” you said quietly. “You were taken away from your home and put in a place you didn’t feel safe. You spent the first few days scared out of your mind, wondering when he was going to just get it over with and kill you. Eventually, though, you realized he didn’t want to kill you — you didn’t know what he wanted. That scared you even more.” 

He stared at the quarter, but you had a feeling he was listening to you, not just hearing you.

“I know you think he can still hurt you, that he’s standing right outside that door,” you continued. “He isn’t. And even if he was, he’d have to go through me before he could get to you. No way would I let that happen.” 

The boy picked up the quarter and looked at it. Then, he rolled it out from under the table, and back to you. 

You picked it up before it could hit the ground. A small smile crossed your face. 

Slowly, over what you guessed was an hour, the boy made baby steps. Eventually, he began to move out from under the table. Once he sat across from you, no table or wall as his shield, you were able to turn on the overhead lights. He still had an aversion to sunlight, but you decided not to worry about that for the moment. 

You and the boy took turns with the coin, rolling it back to the other person when you were finished. You showed him a few hints and tricks on how to roll the quarter across his fingers, all without actually touching him. 

You caught movement in the corner of your eye. Spencer stood in the doorway.

The boy slowly scooted over. You stuck out your hand in reassurance. “It’s okay,” you promised. 

He sat still.

Spencer entered the room, taking a seat in the chair behind where you sat on the floor. 

“What did Garcia find out?” you asked Spencer. 

“She broadened her search, but there’s no one that matches his description,” Spencer replied, tone hushed. 

“Someone has to be missing this kid,” you said. 

Then, an alarm in the hallway went off.

The boy immediately scrambled across the floor, frantically making his way back under the table.

“No, no, no, that’s not for us,” you said, reaching out instinctively. “That’s for the doctors outside. It’s for the doctors, not us.”

Sure enough, an automated voice called ‘code blue’.

“It’s alright. It’s okay,” you said. 

He peeked his head out.

“It’s not for us,” you repeated. “Okay? You can come back out. I promise.”

He slowly made his way back over to you.

“There you go. That’s it,” you praised. You reached your hand out, holding the quarter. “Take it.” 

He took it quickly, covering it with his freehand.

“There you go.”

You sighed, turning your head to Spencer. “I got him to nod, but that’s about it.”

“And you asked him his name?” Spencer questioned.

You nodded. 

“Have you tried Spanish?”

“The language doesn’t matter if he won’t talk,” you spoke.

Spencer moved from the chair to the floor space beside you. “Mi nombre es Spencer,” Spencer said. “como te llama?”

Silence.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” You asked gently.

Once again, nothing.

“Can I see what you have there?” Spencer asked, a small smile on his face.

The boy stuck out the coin.

“Wow. Do you like eagles?” He asked.

The boy pointed to the wings.

“Yeah, the wings are beautiful, aren’t they?” Spencer agreed.

He reached up and touched his back. He pointed to the wings again.

“Wings?” Spencer frowned. “You have… wings, on your back?”

It clicked in your brain. “Angel?”

The boy looked at you.

“Is your name Angel?” You asked. 

Angel smiled.

_____________________

Part 4

Notes: Let me know what you think! Comments keep me motivated to write xo

[wishingpoodle2004]

A WHOLESOME STEREK REC LIST

(Scroll to the bottom to see my allstar list)

•A Simple Life by Survivah

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12227445/chapters/27777660

Summary:

Derek plans to spend the rest of his life holed up in the woods after Laura dies. Then he meets a stubborn young fox, and the stubborn young fox meets an urn of Deaton's magic powder, and his plans change.

My Rating: 10/10

Simply Excellent

•The Boy and the Beast by Duran Sudis (dsudis)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/751583/chapters/1403203

Summary:

In which events in Beacon Hills go rather differently from the start, and a Beauty and the Beast (ish) story ensues. (Scott is not a teacup and no one sings about their feelings.)

My Rating: 9/10

Great story. Would liked to see the Human! Derek x Human! Stiles develope a bit more

• Good Behavior by theSilence

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/8460571/1/Good-Behavior

Summary

The God Awful Courting Tactics Used to Woo Stiles Stilinski by Derek Hale.

My Rating: 8.5/10

Absolutely hilarious, Stiles and Derek at their finest (not). Only fault is that it’s short and the people need to know what happened after date 3.

• headlong (I’m falling in a) by hito

https://archiveofourown.org/works/295390/chapters/472650

Summary:

Kink meme fill: When Stiles goes to college, for some reason, he has to share an apartment with Derek, which sucks, because Derek still hates him the most. They fall in love.

My Rating: 8.5/10

Love Stlies and Derek learning to share breathing space and getting walked in on by the rest of the pack . Warning⚠️ Lydia is bonkers and power hungry.

• You Feel Like Home by thestreetballet

https://archiveofourown.org/works/383108

Summary:

"Derek, don't bully Mr Stilinski. He's had a bad few days."

My Rating: 9/10

I love love love Harry Potter AU sterek. Young Derek is desperately trying to look out for his newly found mate (young Stiles) while balancing prefect duties, pack life AND trying to keep said mating a secret from everyone including Stiles. This is part of a short series, read it all to get it. Warning ⚠️ Alpha Peter is bananas, lots of interspecies conflict.

• Can’t Take The Heat? by Ilovesocks_24

https://archiveofourown.org/works/810771/chapters/1530771

Summary:

“Hi, I’m Stiles, and what I have for you today is…”

“Stop, just stop.” Grumpy Eyebrows interrupted. “That is honestly the worst looking Pasta Primavera I have ever seen. I don’t even want to eat it, it looks so bad.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. No one insulted his creamy bacon carbonara without even trying it. And no one insulted his creamy bacon carbonara after they tried it either.

“It’s actually a Creamy Bacon Carbonara, asshole,” Stiles snapped. “And for the record, it’s supposed to look like that.”

Or the one where Stiles is a new sous chef at Full Moon Steakhouse and Derek is the Gordon Ramsay of all head chefs. So of course they fall in love.

My Rating: 8/10

Pretty good. The story was more focused on Stiles journey as a chef so not as many fluffy moments but still pretty satisfying.

• Permanent Fixture by linksofmemories_archive

https://archiveofourown.org/works/518387/chapters/915659

Summary:

Derek is Scott's older brother. Stiles is Scott's best friend. Derek is falling in love with Stiles. This is a bit of a problem.

My Rating: 9.5/10

This story WILL make you CRY. I had a hard time rating this because it’s very slow burn with lots of angst but you can literally feel every emotion in the story so I had to give it the extra 0.5. Spoiler: Claudia called it.

•Fly a Little Faster by mirrorkill

https://archiveofourown.org/works/900839

Summary:

Everyone knows when you go back in time, you shouldn't step on an ant, just in case you accidentally kill your own grandparent or something. But what happens when you go back in time and, uh, accidentally interrupt the one event that apparently made the Grumpiest Alpha in Town into a ball of mindless manpain?

Well, if Marty McFly can do it, so can Stiles Stilinski. All he has to do is get Derek and Paige to fall in love before he gets pulled back to his own time. And before he makes anything worse. That's easy as pie, right? Right?

My Rating: 8/10

Such a creative. I only wish they had gotten to spend more time together in the past.

•Pack Up; Don’t Stray by the_deep_magic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/644874/chapters/1171121

Summary:

AU – Werewolves are an enslaved underclass, collared and tagged by human masters. Detective Stilinski’s on duty the night they bring in an untagged stray.

My Rating: 8.5/10

I like this story because their love was based on trust and respect. Just two people who needed each other, found each other and fought for each other.

•In the Solstice of our Hearts by raving revolution

https://archiveofourown.org/works/971008/chapters/1907773

Summary:

"You're not putting that up your butt," Scott told him flatly and Stiles couldn't stop the pissed off whine he made, but his friend continued. "Stiles, you can't put that up your butt, you know that. Your butt won't be ready for anything to go in it until-"

"Okay, okay!" he said, flailing his hands to stop his friend's lecture. "Message received, no butt stuff until I'm pounced on by some freaking animal in the forest and ravished to within an inch of my life. Got it. Thanks, Scotty, I mean heaven forbid I actually try to take control of my life and give myself a fighting chance or anything."

"Not all alphas are animals," Scott said quietly.

Maybe he was right, but Stiles wasn't holding his breath.

My Rating: 8.5/10

Interesting story but I wanted more fluff.

• No Homo by orphan_account

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148039/chapters/2864236

Summary:

Stiles' sophomore year starts something like this:

3 FourLokos

+ 1 peer-pressuring cat

- 1 best bro to end all best bros

= 1 Craigslist ad headline that reads "str8 dude - m4m - strictly platonic".

Derek is the fool who replies.

My Rating: 9/10

This is one of my all time favorites. The author’s summary doesn’t even begin to do it justice. Firstly homophobic Stiles is just hilarious and adorable. Secondly this story is sooooo Hot🔥, bottom!Derek is amazing. Thirdly, just read it!!!!! You won’t regret it

• tongue of dog and blind-worm’s sting by Zercalo

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4896598/chapters/11229727

Summary:

In order to keep the identity of the teacher he's been seeing a secret, Derek's been withdrawing from his pack and family. Cora, frustrated with his alienation and a little lonely, clings to the first nonjudgmental person who offers companionship – which happens to be that odd Muggleborn Revenclaw who's always hanging around the Gryffindor common room.

She hasn't befriended Stiles for Derek's sake, but Derek just might reap the benefits anyway - if he pulls his head out of his ass and quit the stupid self-sacrificing act.

My Rating: 9/10

This is another Hogwarts AU where Cora is the best friend we all need. Derek’s dug himself into a pretty deep hole with Kate but Stiles might just get him out of it. Cute teenage courting ensues and once again we all need a Cora in our lives. Oh, and no biggie but there’s a mass murderer on the loose. Note: This story is part of a series.

• Rare Books and Special Collections by orphan_account

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5192954

Summary:

Derek Hale hates libraries.

Unfortunately, not all books can be ordered on Amazon.

(Or: in which Derek is a grumpy omega writer, and Stiles is an annoyingly attractive alpha special collections librarian.)

My Rating: 9/10

I love Omega! Derek. He’s an anti social writer who we just want to scoop up in our arms. Stiles’ idea of flirting is giving Derek books and library tours. Adorableness and Cluelessness ensues.

• Cornerstone by Vendelin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1725518/chapters/3678122

Summary:

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

My Rating: 8.5/10

I see this fic EVERYWHERE and it is pretty good but because it’s a pretty serious story it doesn’t have as much fluff. Derek’s got serious issues and Stiles is blind. However, I did love how Stiles shared so much of himself with Derek and how Derek slowly learned how to return the favor. I really appreciated the reality check.

•Pink Is For Pining (You, You, Nothing But You) by clotpolesonly

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15177281

Summary:

“You know you could just ask him out, right?” Scott asked.

Stiles stuffed the toast in his mouth and hoped he wasn’t blushing. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you have a ginormous crush on him.”

“I do not, shut up,” Stiles hissed as well as he could around a mouthful of toast.

“Your pink hair says differently,” Scott sing-songed at him.

***

In which Stiles is a supremely socially awkward metamorphmagus with a crush, Derek is a quietly pining werewolf, and Scott and Lydia are done with their stubbornness and stupidity.

My Rating: 9/10

I had to end off this rec list with Pink is for Pining and (surprise surprise) it’s another Hogwarts fic. This one is always in my top 3 because through Derek’s love, Stiles learns to love every part of himself. Alright, maybe I’m hyping this fic up too much (it’s REALLY short) but I’m a believer that one paragraph can make all the difference 😁

My Allstar List

1. A Simple Life by Survivah

https://archiveofourown.org/works/749767/chapters/1399097

2. Pink Is For Pining by clotpolesonly

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15177281

3. Permanent Fixture

https://archiveofourown.org/works/518387/chapters/915659

4. No Homo

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148039/chapters/2326073

5. Rare Books and Special Collections by orphan_account

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5192954

Thanks for Reading!

I hope you enjoyed this Rec list. Please send me any you think I’ll enjoy or that would be a good addition to the list. Happy reading!

[cmncisspnandmore]

Don’t let me go, Part 3

A/N: It’s FINALLY here, part 3. It took me awhile to get it out but i did it, and im proud of myself. I will be updating my masterlist as well so you can catch up on any parts you may have missed or any of my other fics you might’ve missed. I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Reader Warnings: Anorexia, eating disorders, depression, drug use, mentions of past character death, extreme fluff? is that a warning? 

~~~~~~~

“What do you mean, you are, oh god, Y/N, you are enough, and you’re gorgeous.” Spencers lip quivered, and you leaned back against the cold shower wall. A shiver wracked through you and your thin fingers gripped the towel. You lowered your eyes to your bruised legs and your skin that was void of most color.

“Please, let me get dressed… I don't want you to see me. I will to you when i'm dressed. I just can’t let you see me like this.” You teeth chattered, and with a nod Spencer stood from the edge of the tub and closed the door. He sat on the edge of the bed and wrung his hands while he waited for you to some out.

While in the bathroom you dried off your body and hair, and pulled on a pair of sweatpants you stole from Spencers house when you stayed over, and a FBI sweatshirt you had gotten when you first joined. It was soft and comfortable, and honestly you knew in the back of your mind that this wasn't going to be a nice conversation with Reid. You pull your hair up and out of your face, and with a deep breath you pull open the bathroom door, and there you see Reid, sitting on the edge of the hotel bed, he’s staring out into space and talking to himself quietly. Something you have seen him do hundreds of times when he’s thinking about facts and going over what he’s trying to say in his head before he actually says it out loud. In his hand you can see the gold one year sober coin, rolling over his fingers. Ever since he had gotten it and figured out what another agent had meant when he said to hold onto it, Spencer had kept it on him. He turned it over in his hand and glanced up when he heard the door open.

“I know… I know you’re probably going to try to make me feel better with a bunch of facts about eating disorders and how i’m part of this huge statistic. But i can’t. I can’t listen to that right now. So could you try to be just a normal human and not a genius with an iq of 187 and profiles serial killers who are more fucked up than your best friend. I just need regular Spencer, the one who plays with my hair when he reads and lets me sleep on his couch way more than i should.” You hold onto the door frame and wait for him to respond.

Spencer pushes himself back against the headboard and pats the bed next to him, “I can be regular Spencer.”

You walk over to the side of the bed and sit next to Spencer, your hands shake in your lap, and he reaches over to cover your hands with his. “Start whenever you’re ready, I’ll listen to whatever you want to tell me.”

You chew on your bottom lip, and take a big deep breath, taking comfort in Reids hands holding yours.

“Okay, so do you remember when we worked that case in New Mexico, the one where the little girl was taken and we couldn't find her, and when we did find her stuck in that hole with the water rising and i was the only one who could fit in there to grab her, so i could lift her up to you and Derek. Well when i was down there and the water was getting higher and you and Morgan were trying to pull me out of there. There was a moment when i got caught trying to climb out to get to you, and all i could think about f i was just a little bit lighter, or a little thinner i wouldn't have gotten stuck. And the panic i felt in my chest when i was stuck and you and Morgan were trying to get me out was indescribable. For months after that the only time i slept was on your couch. And there was this voice in the back of my head that told me that if i lost a few pounds i wouldn't have been stuck. That you and Derek wouldn't have had such a hard time getting me out.” Tears trickled down your face and you couldn’t manage to look at Spencer.

“It started as just counting the calories i ate, making sure i wasn't over eating. But then it became a constant thing that i needed to do, i had to make sure i knew how many calories were in the things i was eating, then it slowly became that i needed to eat less to lose a few pounds and i promise Spencer it started as just that. I didn't mean for it to get this bad. Now i go days without eating, i can’t stop. It's been going on for months now, and honestly Spence, it scares me. I’m so out of it almost all the time, and it sucks. I don't enjoy life anymore, because everything is about trying to be skinny, trying to be pretty.” Spencers hands are shaking against your own, and it makes your heart clench. You were causing him to be this upset. This was all your fault, just like everything was. You would never be enough to make Spencer happy, no matter how skinny you were. Or how many pounds the scale told you, you had lost.

“Y/n, I have thought you were beautiful from the moment you walked in to the BAU bullpen. Your weight wasn't the problem getting you out of there, when you were coming up you got snagged on a tree root, and it took us a moment to get you untangled. I never would have wanted you to change who you were or what you looked like. You didn't need to be anything but yourself for me to like you or even notice you. Of course i like you, i have since i met you. And i know this probably sounds all jumbled and weird but i don't know how to express what i feel for you. I’ve never been an emotional type of guy. But with you it's different. I can't help but want to see you smile or hear your laugh. When you come into the office and you aren't smiling my heart aches.” Spencer grabbed your chin lightly, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“You’re only saying that because i'm sick.” You jerk your chin away and pull your knees to your chest, wrapping your thin arms around them.

“Why would i confess this only because you’re sick!” Spencer snaps, hurt flashing across his face.

“Because you feel bad for me… Just like everyone else will when they find out.” You look over at him, eyes misty with tears.

“You’re wrong, i wouldn't just say this stuff to you if i didn't mean it. You know that when i say things i mean them. Some of the best moments of my life are with you. But, i know that this conversation alone isn’t going to help you get better. But if you will allow me, i want to help you get better. I want to help you through this because i don't want to lose you. I can't. You're the only other person besides Maeve that i have felt like this about. If i let you go on like this and i lose you i will never forgive myself.” Spencer glances at his hands, more tears fall onto his lap.

You stay quiet for a moment, before leaning down and resting your head on his lap. Spencer wipes his eyes with one hand and then strokes your hair with the other. The thin strands nothing compared to what they used to be. “Okay… I want you to help me… Please Spencer..” you whisper and You see Spencer nod out of the corner of your eye.

“We’ll get through this. I’ll talk to Hotch and tell him we’re going to be requesting a leave of absence while we figure out what you need. Okay?”

“Okay.. i have something to tell you.” You flip onto your back, your head still resting on his lap.

“What?” he looks down at you, his right hand coming to rest on your arm, warmth spreading up your arm.

“I didn't eat that granola bar.”

“I know”

“What? You know?” You furrow your brows.

“I’m a profiler, I notice things. There wasn't a single crumb on the table by the wrapper.” He shrugs his left hand tangling in your hair.

“Oh… i guess i should've known you would catch on eventually.” You close your eyes, a headache building behind them.

“Let me go get you some crackers, and we can start with those okay? Just a few, and maybe a sports drink to get your electrolytes up. There's a small convenience store around the corner. While i'm on my way there i will call Hotch and let him know what's going on. And then we will make a few calls to Doctors and Therapists.” He smiles at you and you give a small nod.

“Alright, i’ll be right back, i’ll also grab something for that headache you probably have.” He gently lifts your head off his lap and then replaces it with a pillow. He climbs off the hotel bed and takes the blanket that was at the bottom of the bed and drapes it over you. You hear him grab the keys and his gun and start to head to the door.

“Spencer!” You sit up, and he turns, he has one hand on the door.

“Yeah?” He lets go of the knob and walks back over to you where you are now sitting up on the bed using one arm to keep yourself up the other fisting in the blanket.

As he stops in front of you, you reach up with one hand and wrap it around his neck pulling him down and hug him tight, “Thank you.” You whisper as a few tears fall and he wraps his arms around you.

“No need to thank me, get some rest, i’ll be back in a few minutes.” He pulls back and presses and soft kiss to your hair as you lay back down against the pillows, pulling the blanket up around your shoulder. You close your eyes, drifting off as Spencer makes his way to the black SUV and pulls out his phone and dials Hotchner.

~~~~~

Tag list

Criminal Minds: @morcialovechild @banananna99 @cynbx

Dont let me go: @itshaleighyo7 @galaxygallade @drw0301bieber @multifandom-ramblings @gothamsmarvel @neonshadowkilljoy @imaginativefanatic

[i4z-0892-il]

Monster House 5

Summary: Posing as Newlyweds Sam and Y/n set out to investigate what’s killing the visitors of a secluded Inn, and attempt to keep their working relationship professional.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word count: 6750

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, suggestive themes, language, smut

A/N:  Soooooo I went a little keyboard happy on this one. It’s a little longer than I thought it would be.

Immerse yourself in the story, Buy Sam’s Scent Here from @scentsfromthebunker (And damn does it smell goooooood)

I live for feedback, comments and reblogs! It is the fire that fuels me! The pep in my step! The Adrenaline in my veins! It is the tap of my fingers to a keyboard.

If you like my work consider buying me a Coffee, or leave me some Feedback!

Add yourself to my Tag List to keep updated when new chapters post.

Masterlist stays updated with each new chapter.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Yanking a brush through your hair hard enough that you would just tear any knots straight out of your head helped to keep your focus. It was hard to concentrate on the fact that Sam’s hands had been all over the lacy black panties you were now wearing when you were busy ripping chunks of hair from your scalp. Satisfied with it just being out of your face, bust still wild and barely tamed you stuffed the brush back into your bag and lamented on not having anything left to do to buy yourself more time. You’d have to leave the bathroom eventually. You’d have to look at him at some point. And you were going to have to do it while keeping your shit together which was difficult enough just through sheer proximity. Let alone being all cramped and squished against him, his frame towering over you, so large he could have swallowed you whole. Long strong arms keeping you up as if you weighed nothing, his hand riding dangerously low on your stomach, holding you in place against him. His hands all over your underwear, and in them. An all too familiar heat blossomed between your legs.

Gripping the sink and clenching your legs together as if you could hold it in or stop it completely you let out an exasperated sigh. This whole job was a bad idea. You should have come with Dean. Sure he’d have been obnoxious, but you’d still have fun, you’d still have been convincing. And most importantly you could walk away after the job was finished knowing that nothing had changed. Dean was great, but you’d had plenty of time to develop feelings for him, and nothing evolved. He was exactly where you wanted him to be. Platonic. Sam was another story entirely. And you were playing with fire.

There were a couple options on the table for how this whole job ended. Either you’d put on a show, keep your act together and go home to pine for him in secret- business as usual. Status Quo. Or you’d wind up coming on too strong, playing the game a little too well, embarrass the shit out of yourself and then have to live awkwardly around him until you had successfully humiliated yourself to death. There was no third option. Because the third option was completely off the table and nothing but wishful thinking. The night he nearly kissed you in the library was a drunken mistake, and a near miss. You had to find a way to shut down the way he made you feel. Which was simultaneously amazing and amazingly frustrated.

There had been a few times little things he did stirred you up so well and so agonizing that you had to go find some rando at a bar to go home with and alleviate the desperate need in you. But scratching the itch never brought real relief.

A short, soft knock on the bathroom door brought you out of your head and back into the real world.

“You ready? This class is starting in ten minutes.” Sam asked from the other side. Your cheeks burned at the sound of his voice, and the heat pooling low in your gut just kept smoldering away.

“Yeah. Be out in a second.” You answered, but you could have melted straight into the floor. Giving yourself another moment to collect yourself you sucked in a breath to clear your head, fixing your face stoic, and unbothered. Stepping out of the bathroom you tossed your bag of toiletries on top of the dresser. Sam was waiting for you wearing a teal and gold plaid button up, the one with the snaps instead of buttons. The one that made his eyes just pop. The one that hung so well on him, and over his broad, muscular shoulders. The one that you had spent many nights dreaming about ripping open.

“I have clothes on now, you wanna tell me what you found out?” He asked. You preferred him sans the clothes, but you wouldn’t be able to focus. Letting out a snort you rolled your eyes, as if it was all just ridiculous, as if you truly didn’t want to see him naked. If you told yourself you didn’t enough times, then maybe you’d start to believe it. You were going to handle this whole job through sheer force of will. And if nothing else you were most definitely a stubborn woman.

“Yeah so get this- it turns out that the guy who built this place, Wellington, didn’t die of the plague like we thought.” You offered clever and proud. Sam’s brow furrowed in slight confusion as his interest piqued.”Right? Turns out he died of Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy.”

“Broken heart syndrome?” Sam replied, incredulous. You answered with finger gun, click of your tongue and a wink. “That’s… Really? I mean, people don’t really die from that.”

“Hey, I’m not a doctor, and I wasn’t there when it happened. I’m just relaying the info. Besides, it kind of makes sense doesn’t it? Guy’s whole family dies in a matter of months. Wife was the last to kick the bucket, from bubonic plague no less. Sounds like a perfect recipe for a stress induced heart attack for me.”

“That might explain the disappearances. If he’s a ghost he could be abducting people, targeting the couples here.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

“That doesn’t explain the body count in the woods though.”

“I mean… there is a very real chance that it’s just what the local authority thinks it is.”

“Animal attacks, and you buy that?”

“Why not? What are the odds of there being a ghost here and a monster out there?” You asked with a shrug. If Wellington was still haunting the halls of his home - which explained why it gave you the creeps, then you were willing to give the Garcia PD a little credit. Not to mention the fact that you were far more willing to take on a ghost case than a Wendigo or something else just as nasty. Ghosts were scary, but that was fixed with a simple salt and burn. And you were willing to put serious money on the fact that the Wellingtons were buried somewhere on the property. Gank the ghost, and go home before you did something you’d regret. Story tied up in a bow. End scene.

Sam was willing to run with your theory, albeit reluctantly. Because when were the odds ever in his favor?

“Okay guess we’re going to have to see if any of the guests have had any strange occurrences happen.” He said, moving to the door and holding it open for you.

“And where on the property they’re buried.” You added, continuing your thought as you walked past him. “I’m guessing Derek probably knows.”

Sam locked the door behind him, his body tensing when you dropped Derek’s name. Derek. He did not like him. There was just something about him that made Sam wary. Of course the designs he had on you was a factor in that feeling that he could not discredit. It was probably a majority of the reason if he was completely honest with himself, if not the whole reason. Of course, he wouldn’t blame you if you decided to make a move. He’d wind up just fucking hating the guy, but you were free to do whatever with whomever. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been with other men before. Wasn’t like he hadn’t been with other women. And he wasn’t going to be selfish enough to ask you to refrain from doing what you wanted.

“Alright, so after lights out we’ll to an EMF sweep and see if we can’t turn up old Wellington.” Going on with your train of thought as you made your way down the hall, Sam right next to you. You were talking but he wasn’t listening, and you weren’t exactly paying attention. He was too focused on the idea of you and Derek together. All you’d have to do was show a little interest and he’d be on you like white on rice. And it was infuriating. Derek would touch you wrong, he wouldn’t worship the parts of you that should be worshiped. He wouldn’t hold you right, or kiss you right with the passion and fire that you deserved. He wouldn’t pay attention to the the tender spots that Sam wanted his mouth over for the last year and a half. Then you’d come back to him smelling like the other man, and only half as satisfied as you could be. And he would have to choke down the way it would crush him. The way it does crush him, knowing that this was only a job to you. The way it should have just been a job to him.

“Oh!” A little light bulb clicked in your head as you stopped in your tracks two steps up from the base of the staircase. Sam stopped and turned to look at you. You were two stairs up and only barely eye level with him. “I almost forgot. That dancing night thing on Thursday. Turns out that’s an ongoing tradition in place of the Anniversary Gala’s that Wellington threw for his wife each year. Also it’s a black tie event.”

“What?” Sam questioned, unsure if he’d heard you right through your rambling pace and the word vomit. “Black tie?”

“Yeah. I know and there’s going to be a bunch of people people here because it’s apparently a big deal in these parts. And frankly I am not willing to rub elbows with the Bourgeoisie. Aristocracy can kiss my ass, they’re not better than anyone else. So anyway, the sooner we burn the bones and get out of here the better.” You answered not even wanting to ponder the idea of having to squeeze into some fancy little cocktail dress and heels and pretend like it wasn’t excruciating, or that your feet wouldn’t be killing you. It made you shudder at the thought of having to be around some weak-chinned trust fund baby talking about the tennis match they played at the yacht club. Sam on the other hand was less focused on attire than he was your comment ‘the sooner the better.’ Ouch. That one stung. You were right though, the sooner the case was solved and you could all go back to business as usual, the better. Less chance of fucking up, less chance of things between you changing. Less opportunity for him to slip up and spill something he should have kept to himself.

“Right.” He replied quickly, clearing his throat and shifting his weight on one leg. “Yeah, you’re right. The sooner the better.”

It wasn’t what he said, it was how he said it. Distant and aloof, unfeeling. And it struck you in the chest just a small pang of hurt. Turning your eyes from him so he couldn’t see the disappointment you looked down the hall off the foyer. You shouldn’t have been bothered by it, after all he agreed with you. But his answer wasn’t nearly as comforting as you had hoped. No it was exactly what you hoped for. Nothing. That was what you wanted after all, nothing. That was how it should be, nothing. Because if there was something…

An unmistakable head of curly ebony hair caught your attention in the hallway and you let out a perturbed groan. Fuck, this bitch again. Sam followed your gaze to Esmeralda chatting with another couple down the hall. Chuckling he turned his attention back to you.

“Not a fan?”

“No. You should have seen the look she gave me earlier.”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it. Y’know you have a chronic case of resting bitch-face yourself.” Sam teased. Your jaw dropped in offense and you shoved his shoulder playfully.

“Wow, rude!” You laughed, shaking your head in good humored annoyance.

“Hey, your words, not mine.” He replied. Esmeralda finished up her conversation with the other couple and immediately caught sight of Sam. Like a fucking lioness stalking her prey, she walked over as if it was a mission from god. In her eyes you had already disappeared. Without thinking you slipped your arms over Sam’s shoulders edging in closer. His hands came to rest at your hips as he looked at you quizzically. Up till you laid eyes on her you had maintained your distance.

“We’re supposed to be married right?” It was less a question more a statement and he gave you a dimpled grin in agreement.

“Right, because it couldn’t be that you’re jealous?” He asked and you snorted.

“No! I am not jealous of her. But if I’m playing the part of wife I gotta act like it right? Besides what do I have to be jealous of?” You stumbled through your denial, hoping you sounded more convincing out loud than you did in your head. Jealous. HA! What? Of her perfect full bodied hair that probably smelled like really expensive conditioner? Or her skin that looked as soft as silk? Pfft. Please. You were definitely not jealous of her absolutely killer body. Or her bedroom eyes with curling lashes a mile long and thick as night. Nope, not a damn thing to be jealous of there. And most of all you were not jealous or threatened by her presence around Sam. Not even a little.

“Mr. Wesson, I trust your hike today was enjoyable?” Esmeralda said, with a voice as sweet and smooth as summer wine. And you wanted to gag. Or choke her. Or gag while you were choking her. Sam turned to face her with a smile, one hand still on your hip. You dropped an arm from around his neck letting it lovingly rest over his bicep which was so strong you could have kept hands there for all eternity.

“Yes, it was very enjoyable.” Sam answered in earnest. Less about the scenery, more about you. A few choice moments sticking out in his head as particularly enjoyable.

“Marvelous.” She enthused. “Well if you’re ready the gentlemen are playing cards and having drinks in the parlor, if you’ll follow me.”

Your whole body froze as mild panic rose in your chest.

“I’m sorry I thought this was a couples cooking class?” You asked letting out a nervous laugh. Sam was supposed to be there to keep you from burning the place to the ground because you way overcooked a pie. Or quiche. Or whatever the fuck they wanted you to make. Not to mention the fact that it was dumb to have a cooking class listed on a couples retreat itinerary.

“Yes, well it was originally. Unfortunately one of the guests partners has fallen ill and couldn’t make it to the class, and we certainly didn’t want to keep him from enjoying himself this evening. I’m so sorry for the mix up.” She answered but didn’t look away from Sam, and you were pretty sure you saw her face harden out of irritation that she had to speak to you at all.

“Well. Y’know, I’m pretty good at Texas Hold ‘Em myself I’d love to-”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Wesson, I’m afraid there is only room at the table for one more.” She cut, her eyes darting to you like daggers, taking you a back completely. Fucking rude.

“So then why don’t you come with me to the class anyway?” You asked Sam, though it was more telling than requesting.

“I’m sorry, that won’t be possible either, it would be unfair to the other guests.” Esmeralda interjected. Seeming to have an excuse for fucking everything. You smiled through grit teeth.

“Of course it would.” You said finding it difficult to mask your disdain. Derek emerged from the hallway to join the three of you at the foot of the staircase, a kind smile on his face.

“Y/n, we’re so glad you could make it. If you follow me I’ll take you to the kitchen, we’ve got an excellent array of desserts and cocktails to sample during the class.”

This time it was Sam’s turn to be uncomfortable, his grip on your hip tightening a little upon Derek’s approach and all to casual drop of your name. Like he’d known you forever, it was too familiar. Esmeralda took him by the arm slowly coaxing the grip you had on each other apart, and he let her with little reluctance. She walked him down the hall to the parlor, but his eyes stayed on you and Derek until you were out of view.

“Yep, sounds… just fantastic.” You lied. He offered his elbow for you to take and escorted you to the massive kitchen where there were four other women waiting and chatting with full glasses of wine.

Dropping your hand to your side you took a look around. Clearly you had severely under-dressed for the occasion, these women looked like they stepped straight out the Stepford wives. To be fair this was one of your nicest t-shirts, it was one of the only ones that didn’t have holes in it, and it had a little ufo on it with small text saying ‘I want to leave.’ It was accurate, and it was your favorite. You even put clean jeans on without rips in the knees, and your nice boots. So… they were lucky.

On the table where they sat was several trays full of macaroons, various cheesecakes, tiramisu, and tiny cupcake sized apple tarts but the apples had been sliced thin and turned into roses. A small banquet table sat nearby with three clear beverage dispensers. One of them was champagne colored and had peaches and mangoes and strawberries floating in it, the other was a lime green concoction with more matching fruit. The last was most definitely Sangria, and you made a beeline for it. Derek stepped in beside you offering a glass for you to pour your drink into, though opening the spigot and letting it pour directly into your mouth seemed like a better use of your time and energy than anything that was to come next. You were going to drink the entire damn dispenser dry, fruit and all by the end of the class.

“Hi.” A woman with blonde hair curled into flawless waves, not a single strand out of place. She eyed you curiously, like you were a circus act than a person who didn’t know there was a dress code for a fucking cooking class you didn’t even want to be a part of! “I’m Emily, pleasure to meet you. And you are?”

“Y/n, nice to meet you too.” You held your hand out to shake hers but she didn’t take it.

“Come meet everyone.” Emily suggested taking you by the arm and practically dragging you over to the table, and introducing you to the other women like she was the host of a quaint dinner party. “Y/n this is Ashley, Victoria and Charlotte.”

Victoria was a haughty woman with black hair, with secrets behind her dark eyes. Ashley was a cute slip of a thing, but something told you she wasn’t exactly as innocent as she looked. Charlotte gave you a big smile, and was the only one who didn’t look at you like you crawled out of a hole.

“How long are you here for?” Charlotte asked.

“About a week, maybe less.” You answered.

“Less? Why would you want to leave early?” Emily quizzed. You were put on the spot, and you did not like being the center of any kind of attention.

“Oh y’know, we’re from out of state so we might try to check out a few tourist spots on our way back home.”

“Where are you from?” Ashley asked.

“Lebanon. Kansas.”

“A long way from home aren’t we.” Victoria said not bothering to look at you, just her voice set you on edge.

“Uh, yeah. Guess so.”

“How long have you been married?” Charlotte asked.

“A little while now, feels like yesterday.” You joked, awkward, and uncomfortable.The questions were flying left and right. Nosy and asking for too many details, details that were too specific and you couldn’t be vague enough about. You found yourself quickly downing the first of many more glasses of Sangria. You and Sam had gone over some details of your backstory, glossing over a general picture, but there were plenty of blanks to fill. And you felt like you were being interrogated, or dissected by these women.

“Where did you get married?”

“Uhh, we eloped.”

“Any kids?

“None.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“Y’know I would love to chat a little more about this later but I think we’re supposed to get started now.” You said, trying to find an escape hatch. All day you’d been lamenting having to cook, and now you were elated to start. Anything to shift the focus off of you and your fake marriage.

Derek showed you to a station set up and ready, and right in the middle of the island, but you were land-locked by Emily and Charlotte on either side of you. And that’s when the dread really kicked in. This was actually happening. They actually expected you to participate, not only participate, but to do it and actually be happy about it! Maybe you could feign sickness and go hide in your room. The raw ingredients in front of you taunting you but just being there. You downed your second glass.

“Ladies tonight we’re going to be making one of my favorite recipes Amaretto Apple Streusel Cupcakes.” Derek started. The only part of that catching your interest was the Amaretto part. Beyond that- what the fuck made a streusel? You started on your second glass of Sangria.

Derek led the class through the introductory steps, talking entirely too much about the ingredients we were using, but making sure you knew that there was plenty of wiggle room in the recipe to adjust to your tastes. There was going to be so much Amaretto in yours you’d get tipsy off of eating one. If you didn’t burn it first. He left plenty of room for talking among yourselves.

“So how did you and your husband meet?” Charlotte asked, big brown eyes moving from you to the mixing bowl in her hands.

“We just happened to be working together.” You answered quickly. “So, this place is kinda interesting.”

“Yeah, I guess so. The mountains are nice, and one of the lakes is like… perfect.”

“Sam and I went for a hike today, it was definitely something. I could have sworn I heard like… scratching earlier when we were getting settled.”

“Huh. That’s odd.” Charlotte said, preoccupied.

“Hear anything like that in your room?”

“Nope, can’t say I have, but I honestly haven’t spent much time in the room. Declan and I have been keeping pretty busy.”

“Right, of course. I think I saw some flickering lights earlier too.”

“Well, this place is like really super old. I’m sure the wiring is a conflagration waiting to happen” She answered absentmindedly, adding extra spices and such to her mixing bowl.

“Yeah, it kind of gives me the creeps, y’know.” You pressed but Charlotte just shrugged and continued on with her task. The mixture in her bowl looking smooth and creamy, while yours looked… chunky. Clumps of flour sticking together and unwilling to unstick and mix right. And you definitely added too much amaretto, because some of it was runny. How could something be runny and clumpy at the same time?

Derek continued on with the next steps and down went glass number four. Your fingertips were starting to tingle, your head pleasantly buzzing. Derek refilled your glass and set it in front of you, full lips curling into a smile.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He asked, and you replied with a nod taking a long sip from your glass.

“Mhmm, I uh, I don’t think I did this right.” You answered a little defeated, eyes landing on the lumpy and runny bowl of doughy batter in front of you. Derek responded with a chuckle, as he moved around the island to stand between you and Charlotte.

“It’s just not quite mixed in there yet.” He said, picking up a whisk and whipping the batter smooth like it should be. He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “See? Beautiful. Have you tried it yet, to make sure your flavors are where you want them?”

Shaking your head no he let his hand trail down your arm taking your hand in his and dipping your finger in the batter. Bright green eyes locked on you as he watched you lick the batter from your fingertip. Unfortunately for him you were five glasses deep, and less concerned about the sultry look in his eye, or the way he was biting into his lip than you were about being delightfully surprised that it actually tasted okay.

“Wow. I thought for sure this was going to be inedible.” You laughed. Derek chuckled, and smiled at you again, rapt by you, and you saw an opening. Leaning your hip against the island, and taking another sip you edged in, just a little closer. “So, that guy Wellington you were talking about earlier, he really had to watch his whole family go down?”

“Yes, it's really terrible. The plague is not an easy disease to watch someone succumb to, it takes hold quickly and they suffered before they passed.” He answered, more than happy to be in your close proximity.

“Yikes.” You remarked, half way through glass number six. “So if they all passed away in a couple months, that’s a lot of funerals to deal with. Did they have like a family plot around here?”

“Yes they did, there’s a clearing in the trees by the overlook where they were all laid to rest. Mr. Wellington put this property here for the views, I suppose it was what he wanted in death as well. I’m afraid its all a bit overgrown now. The groundskeeper refuses to set foot on it. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious, I’m all about that spooky shit.” You answered, putting your drink down, because pacing is a thing and you needed to exercise it before something else uncouth just fell out of your mouth. Derek laughed, finding your comment more endearing than anything else. “Anything weird happen around here?”

“Depends on what you mean by weird.” He answered, intrigued. You edged in, just a hair closer.

“You know, like… flickering lights, cold spots, strange voices in the night.”

“Ah,” he laughed again. “You want to know if this place is haunted.”

“Well, is it? Should I be worried? Have to break out the crucifixes?” You teased.

“This place is old, and there have been an odd thing here and there, but I can’t say that it’s haunted. If it is I don’t think I’ve ever encountered anything supernatural.”

“Bummer.” You said slumping back in your place, and turning your attention back to the batter in the mixing bowl. Derek gave your shoulder a light squeeze before moving back around the island and continuing the lesson.

The poker game was done, and Sam could have won every round, but threw folds every now and then, not wanting chance putting a tarnish on a good first impression. The five other men split off to chat sipping brandy like they were on the goddamn Titanic before the iceberg. Of the six only one of them caught Sam’s attention. He was sunk into a chair by the roaring fireplace, his cheeks sallow and gaunt, he was thin, too thin. Clothes didn’t seem to quite fit right, and he looked just tired. Sam picked up a glass and sat in the chair beside him.

“Nolan, right?” Sam asked, earning nothing more than a slow nod from the skeleton in the chair. “You uh, you okay man? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine.” Nolan answered, quiet, and distant.

“You sure?” He pressed, unconvinced. Nolan didn’t respond, he only took a long sip of the amber liquid in his glass. Giving up on pleasantries Sam decide to skip straight to the point. “So, you wouldn’t happen to have noticed anything weird going on here would you? My wife and I we’re kind of into the ghost tours and stuff, and we heard this place had some unexplained phenomena happen over the years.”

Nolan turned dim blue eyes to him leaning against the arm of the chair, beckoning Sam to move closer and lean in to share a secret that wasn’t for prying eyes or ears.

“If you were smart, you’d take your woman and leave.” Nolan warned, locking eyes with Sam not a single hint of insincerity on his face.

“What?”

“You believe in ghost stories?” Nolan asked, his voice falling to a hush. Sam nodded, eager and interested. “There’s something here. It moves in the night.”

“What do you mean?” Sam pressed. Maybe there was some serious credibility to your theory. A small hand clasped his shoulder before Nolan could respond, he turned eyes up to meet icy green ones as Esmeralda stood beside him smiling cheerfully.

“Mr. Wesson, I was wondering if you’d accompany me to the cellar.” She said sweetly. “There are a few more bottles of Brandy and Bourbon for tasting, but I’m afraid I only have two hands and can’t carry all of them.”

Sam looked back at Nolan before turning to Esmeralda and agreeing to help with a nod. But the conversation wasn’t over. Nolan had seen something, and he was determined to find out what exactly he’d seen. Setting his glass on the mantel above the fireplace and followed the petite woman down the hall. When they passed by the kitchen he peeked in to see you smiling, cheeks flushed, and standing a little too close to Derek who ran his hand down your arm. His jaw set tight, not thrilled in the slightest to see Derek getting a little too comfortable with you, his wife. Fake wife. Friend. Business partner. Platonic co-worker.

Swallowing down his offense and jealousy that formed a lump in his throat he had to remind himself that it wasn’t his place to have any say over what you did. No matter how much he wanted to just steal you away. It could never happen. This was just a temporary arrangement. And you always did have a way of getting information from men. It seemed easy for you to dial up the charm and flash those pretty doe eyes, and they’d melt like putty in your hands. He knew that fact from experience.

The cellar was relatively small compared to the grandiose of the rest of the Manor, but it was still impeccably stocked. Different liquors and wines from all over the world fit into the cedar shelving. One bottle after another Esmeralda placed them in Sam’s arms.

“I do appreciate your help Mr. Wesson.” She said, her fingertips leaving the last bottle and lingering over his forearm.

“You can call me Sam.”

“Alright then, Sam it is.” She agreed. His name dripping from her lips like honey. “So Sam, tell me, what brings you all the way out here to our neck of the woods?”

“Y/n and I needed a vacation. Heard about this place, figured we’d check it out and see if it as anything special.” He said flashing a quick smile. She tucked a bottle in her arms before turning to look at him curiosity writ on her face.

“And do you have any doubts that this place will live up to your expectations?”

“No, I think it’s shaping up to be exactly what we were looking for.”

The Apple streusel whatevers were just about done being cooked, and the smell from the oven was mouthwatering. You had finished glass number six and hoping that seven would be the last one for the night because you simply could not remain in that kitchen without a drink in your hand, but you were already drunker than you’d intended to be.

“Y/n, you seem nervous.” Victoria said from behind you, making you jump in surprise, the look on your face startled as you turned to address her.

“I uh, I don’t cook much. It’s really not my specialty.” You explained honestly. Since moving into the bunker Dean was the master chef, and when he wasn’t doing it you stuck to leftovers, or food from the 7-Eleven.

“You don’t cook for your husband at all?” She asked, and you scoffed.

“Nope, Sam’s a big boy. If he’s hungry he can fend for himself.” You answered and she looked downright appalled. Oops.Maybe that was a little too honest. “I mean, we’re not particularly domestic… so....” You shut yourself up with the glass in your hand.

“I see, that’s a shame. I’m sure he’ll be pleasantly surprised then when you bring these back with you.” Victoria said, there was no change in the pitch of her voice, she was speaking pleasantly and civilly, but there was nothing but disdain in her eyes.

“Yeah, he’s not going to believe it.” You laughed, she didn’t.

“Do you do anything for your husband?” She continued. What, were you supposed to be his maid or something?

“Nope, he married me for my charming wit and sparkling personality.” You quipped, unable to stop the sarcasm that oozed from your words.

The oven went off and it was the most beautiful sound in the world. You excused yourself from Victoria’s irritating company and moved to wrap up your cupcakes and get the fuck out of the kitchen. The whole ordeal hadn’t been a total bust, you found out where the Wellingtons were planted, and that none of the women had experienced anything inexplicable, which didn’t give you much hope that your theory was correct. Polishing off your last drink you tucked the box of cupcakes under your arm and slipped out of the kitchen just in time to see Sam walking down the hall to the parlor with Esmeralda struggling to keep up with his pace. Letting out a grumbling sigh you headed back up to the room, not wanting to have to deal with little miss perfect for a single second, you’d had too much to drink and your filter was about ten minutes away from being nonexistent. The second you hit the bed your eyes fell shut.

When he returned to the parlor Nolan was gone, the cooking class was done and the men left to go be with their wives. But you were nowhere to be found. And neither was Derek, a pit grew in his stomach, not wanting to entertain the idea of where you might have snuck off to and with who.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight.” Esmeralda said, handing him a bottle of Bourbon.

“Yeah, yeah thanks. It was nice. Is that guy Nolan okay? He looked sick.”

“Mr. Ross is a little under the weather, I’m afraid he may be catching whatever bug Mrs. Ross had.” She explained with a smile.

“Right, of course. Thanks again, I think I need to go find my wife.”

“Goodnight. Sam.” Esmeralda said, growing want in her voice, and unmistakable in her light green eyes. Sam nodded, and gave her a quick goodnight before exiting down the hall and back to the room. If you were off somewhere with Derek he did not want to take the risk of catching you in the act. He didn’t think he could stomach it, or remain collected afterwards.

When he locked the door behind him and turned to the bed he was more than pleasantly surprised to find you sprawled across the entire California King size bed. How someone so small could take up so much space he’d never be able to grasp, but it was endearing nonetheless.One arm was hanging off the edge of the bed, and the other was stretched above your head where your hair splayed out like a halo around your face so serene and angelic. Untying the laces of your boots he slipped them off your feet and dropped them on the floor before grabbing a couple pillows from the bed and a blanket to settle in on the floor.

He lay there for a while, unable to quiet his thoughts enough to fall asleep. Just happy that you hadn’t run off with someone else. Reaching up he took your hand dangling limp over the edge of the bed and ran his thumb over the buttery soft skin of your knuckles, a small smile playing over his lips.

Breath hitched in your throat as your back arched, chin tipping back and eyes falling shut. Running your fingers through his silky chestnut hair you rolled your hips unable to get enough of that delicious friction between your thighs. Each flick of his tongue over your clit blooming that pleasurable pressure in your core. His lips sealed over your sensitive bud sucking a crying moan from your lips as his long deft fingers pumped in your fluttering pussy, rhythmically and with ease covered in your slick. Legs quivered as you drew your knees up along his side, one hand gripping the sheets of the bed and holding on for dear life.

“Oh god… Sam!” His name fell from your lips like a prayer the deep humming moan he gave in response vibrating against your sex sent you careening over the edge, fireworks igniting behind your eyes as your body trembled under his unrelenting touch. Giving a desperate tug on his hair to bring him to you, wanting to taste yourself on his lips while he buried himself impossibly deep in your aching pussy. But the eyes that looked up at you were not Sam’s kaleidoscope hazel ones, but rather Derek’s misty green eyes.

You stirred in your sleep, a soft, pleased moan passed your lips, and your breath quickened drawing his focus from the warning Nolan had given him to you who must have been having an interesting dream. Another moan, and the rustling of sheets as you shifted in the bed. The sound of your euphoric whimpers left him more than curious.

“Oh god… Sam..” You whispered, barely audible but he heard it. Palming his hardening dick through his sweats he tried to keep himself in control. But there was no mistaking what you were dreaming about now. His name falling from your lips causing the smoldering embers low in his core to flick into a burning fire impossible to extinguish. The longer he laid there, listening to your sleep riddled gasps the harder it was to keep himself focused on anything but you.

It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about you like that. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought of you alone at night. But it was the first time there had ever been confirmation that you just might think about him too.

Unable to lay there any longer, cock throbbing and twitching with each of your rasping breaths he pulled himself off the floor and into the bathroom. Fisting his cock in his hand he pumped in tandem with the quiet mewling from the other room.

Sitting up with a shocked gasp, your eyes open wide and darting around the room in your confusion. That was more than unexpected. Countless times you’d had that dream but it was always Sam. It was never not him. And while Derek was handsome, you weren’t exactly skipping with enthusiasm for the chance to sit on his face. Running your fingers through your hair you let out a sigh, recollecting yourself, and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. You just drank too much. That was all. It was just the liquor messing with your head.

Taking note that you were still fully clothed you stood up to change into something more comfortable than jeans to sleep in, proud of the fact that you’d at least managed to take your boots off before passing out.

When you stood your head began to swim, the room spinning around you in a dizzying whirlwind. You’d drank plenty before, but you’d never been that drunk. This felt different. Your brow furrowed as your vision went black to a pinpoint.

“What the fu…” With a thud you collapsed to the floor in a heap.

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[ceruleanmusings]

5 and 15 which could possibly be written together - weather and state of undress.

It’s official, I can’t write anything “short” to save my life. Also, I kinda of cheated with this because the beginning part was already written since it was a potential intro to a fic further in my Blackbird series that I had scrapped. It was just serendipitous that you chose the two themes I was going to use anyway so it made it a tad bit easier. This takes place the summer before season 3 when Erica and Boyd are missing. One of these days I’ll write something from Isaac’s POV.

Pair: Isaac Lahey / Melanie Crowe (Melisaac)Fandom: Teen WolfPrompt: 5 and 10, First time they got caught in bad weather with (just) each other) and first time they saw one another in a state of undress?Send me an OTP prompt

“Mel!” Isaac’s voice sounded over the rushing wind as it battered the trees around them. Another boom of thunder cracked in the sky which was quickly followed by a bolt of lightning. She jumped; whether it was at his sudden appearance or the thunder, she didn’t know. “Did you get anything?”

She shook her head. “No!” she shouted in frustration. “I felt…something! And I had—I had a connection, but it wasn’t that strong.” She pushed a hand through her hair and then shook out her hands. “Let me try again.”

“What’s the point? It’s the seventh time and you just get the same result,” Isaac said.

Melanie’s nostrils flared. That very well may be the case but at least she was trying. That was a lot more than she could say for some other people. People she once thought that she could rely on. “Well, what about a scent? Can you catch one?”

“I’ve tried. It’s faint. And it doesn’t last too long.” Isaac’s hand on her shoulder tightened. “You know that.”

She rolled her shoulder, successfully shrugging his hand off her. “Well, it’s better than nothing! There has to be another direction we haven’t tried.”

“We’ve searched all over this place. I’m not sure there’s another direction to go but up. And you’re the only one who can fly, so…” He crossed his arms and licked his lower lip. “We’re wasting time.”

She tensed. Shook her head. He was wrong. So wrong. “No, we’re not! This is where they went missing! It’s the only place we have to find them.”

“And we haven’t been able to find them! What makes today any different?”

“Can you please quit being so negative for once?”

“Can you quit being so freakishly optimistic?” Lightning flashed across the sky, momentarily cutting in between their staring contest. The two immediately looked upwards, shifting their focus up to the now darkened sky. A whisper of a breeze passed between them. A single droplet of rain fell from the sky and landed smack on Melanie’s face, beneath her eyelid. It dripped down the curve of her cheek, rolled along the angle of her jaw and barely dripped off her face when the sky opened up.

Within seconds the pouring rain matted down their hair and clothes, soaking through the fabric in no time. The steady pitter-patter of rainfall on the leaves beneath their feet surrounded them. Melanie brushed droplets of water that dripped off her nose but to no avail. The rain continued to fall in its heavy, steady pattern. Dampening more than just the forest floor.

Isaac turned his eyes to her, round with worry. “The scent—”

“I know,” Melanie all but hissed. He didn’t have to say it. She knew. She knew deep down in her bones what this meant, and it only made her heart squeeze in the frustratingly familiar way it did when their leads dried up. This was the seventh time. The seventh time and she was so sure this one would yield results. And yet here she stood with Isaac, once again, with nothing to show for it. Erica, where are you?

She sniffed, inhaling the pungent scent of wet earth. Her attempt to catch a scent was feeble she knew, especially comparing her siren abilities to Isaac’s werewolf ones, but still she had to try. And she could use that as a cover for the crushing waves of anguish slamming around inside her.

She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, allowing her father’s motto to ring through her head: Chin up, fly high. She set her jaw. Right, that’s it then. She had to dust herself off and try again. For Erica and Boyd’s sake.

“We should get going.” She looked up at Isaac; his hair lay flat, matted against his forehead and droplets of rain hung off his long lashes. “If it masked their scent it can mask ours too,” he continued, “And I don’t know about you, but these woods are extra creepy right now.”

All at once it was like a cloud had lifted and she remembered exactly where she was and who she was with and who exactly was out there looking for people like them. Creatures like them.

The Alpha Pack.

Her shoulders slumped, taking her stomach down with it. “Yeah. Okay.” She cast one more glance around the woods, like she did six times before, and nodded at him. “…Let’s go.”

The rain pelted them as they ran through the preserve, back to the parking lot where her truck waited. The doors opened with an elongated creak and they nearly collided heads when they dove in on either side.

“Well—” Isaac said.

“If you finish that sentence with ‘that went well’, I’m…I’m gonna…” Emitting a long sigh, she slumped in the driver’s seat, crossing her arms. Her mouth scrunched up followed by a wrinkle of her nose. Isaac’s incredulous gaze burned the side of her face. She refused to look at him.

“…You’re gonna pout at me?”

She cracked a smile. Damn him. Always finding a way to make her laugh when she wanted to stew in their defeat a little while longer. “Don’t make fun. It’s very effective.”

“On getting you extra dessert?”

“Scoff now but you don’t know the sweet satisfaction of having two pieces of chocolate cake instead of one.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it. The only satisfaction I got was a night where my dad forgot I existed for an hour.”

Her smile disappeared. She wasn’t sure which was worse: the ease at which he shared his comment, in such a blasé way, or that she knew without a doubt that he was telling the truth. Twisting her mouth to the side, she moved to say something only for her attention to be ripped away at the sound of thunder.

She leaned closer to the steering wheel, peering up at the sky through the windshield. Grimacing at a flash of lightning, she leaned back in her seat. Counting Mississippis in her head, her fingers drummed against the steering wheel.

“You don’t like storms.” Melanie whipped her head around, pulling an apologetic face when droplets of rain hit Isaac in the face. He didn’t flinch, merely stared at her. She felt it all the way down in her toes. Her heart thrummed beneath his gaze and she cleared her throat.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “But I like Erica and Boyd.” She tucked some hair behind her ear. “What happens if we don’t find them when schools starts?”

“We get Scott to help?”

She sneered. “Because he’s doing such a good job helping now.”

“Well, it’s better than this isn’t it? We can only turn over the same rock so many times.”

She pressed her lips together. He had a point. He always did; he was the reality to her fantasy. Maybe sometimes she woke up too many times thinking today’s the day! and that they would find Erica and Boyd only to retrace the same steps, tread the same ground. But at least she woke up with hope. She still had that.

The heavy rain eased to a gentle tapping on her truck’s roof. The dark clouds smeared to a bright gray before beams of sunlight peppered through. The ensuing heat became trapped within the front cabin of her truck. The light ring of rainwater around her shirt collar warmed, leaving a muggy, sticky swatch on her skin. “Either way, we need to report back to Derek,” Melanie finally said.

Turning, she slid open the sliding window and heaved herself through it, kicking her legs and wiggling until she managed through all the way. Kneeling, she grabbed a back nearby and pulled it towards herself.

“What’s that?” Isaac asked, looking in through the window.

“We’ve spent so many nights running around town, I figured at some point some backup clothes would come in handy,” she explained, pulling some items out. She glanced at the size on a tag of a shirt and held it out to him. “Here, change your shirt before you catch a cold.”

Isaac snorted. “I don’t get sick anymore, remember?”

“Humor me.”

Slowly, as if being pulled by an invisible string, a half-smile, a bit lopsided, formed on his face, curling upwards into a smirk at the corner. The look in his eyes, a burning focus, stilled her. Head cocked to the side, he asked, “Are you trying to check me out?” The smile never wavered.

The heat trapped around her collar burned, and she tugged at her collar. And then she felt like an idiot for doing something so cliché over a dumb comment. It was Isaac after all. He’d recently taken to joking around with her, keeping her spirits up and working to put a smile back on her face. It’s what he did. And this was the same. Just a joke.  Now if only her reddening cheeks would catch up on the memo. He really needed to stop smiling at her like that.

“Well…see, you’re talking like there’s something for me to look at,” she managed to reply. Sticking out her tongue at his expression—half surprise, half amusement—she shoved the shirt through the open window.

Gathering up her hair in her hands, she twisted and squeezed the ends until water cascaded off, creating a small puddle. She wiped the excess water off onto her damp shorts and rummaged through the bag. She pulled a suitable shirt from the bag, looking over the graphic design on the front, and laid it on her lap.

Paused. Her head titled, eyes squinted, at the dome light coming on overhead. Leaning to the side, she glanced out the window…and stiffened. And watched as Isaac, sitting with his back towards the driver’s door, reached behind his head and pulled on the collar of his soaked shirt.

Her breath eased out all at once as her eyes trailed over the expanse of his back, starting at the base where symmetrical dimples popped on either side of his spine, ping-ponging from the sparse moles that dotted his skin, taking time to watch his muscles stretch and contract. The usual rounding of his shoulders, the hunch that brought them up to his ears was replaced by a lowered, sure, strong hold.

“I can feel you looking at me.”

With a jerk, Melanie blinked and let out a little sputter, dropping her eyes back down to her lap. “I’m not…I wasn’t looking at you,” she insisted, cheeks burning. And, with a feverish haste, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and shed it off to yank the clean and dry one on in a few seconds flat. Quickly peeking to ensure he was dressed this time, she crawled back through the window and scooted closer to the driver door as Isaac got back in. “I wasn’t looking at you,” she repeated, “I was trying to look out the window but you were in my way.

He hummed, a sparkle in his eye. “Sure.”

“You’re a giant, that’s hardly my fault. Why?” She paused in putting on her seatbelt, making herself look him in the eye. “Did you want me to look?”

“Maybe.”

A strange, choke-like noise sounded in her throat. Her eye twitched in the corner and her lips formed into a line. his blunt manner was really going to be the death of her some day. All she could utter was a feeble “shut up, Isaac” before snapping her seatbelt in, turning on the truck, and peeling out of the parking lot.

And as long as she didn’t pay attention to the fact that now the cabin of her truck felt two times smaller than usual, and that Isaac sat up straighter in the passenger seat rather than sitting curled inwards like usual, they’d get there one piece.