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ponderingmoonlight · 2 days

Note

Hello!! I hope you’re doing amazing!!! I really like your megumi works, so id like to request a fic where him and the reader have a very under cover secret relationship and yuji,nobara and gojo try to figure out why fushiguros been acting so weird. I’d love to see it! And more megumi works 🙏🏽. It’s just a request it’s totally okay if you don’t want to!! Hope you have an amazing week!! 💗💗

Okay, I probably never laughed this much while writing a fic lmao, this right here is ridiculous y'all

Keeping your relationship with Megumi a secret until you can't anymore

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader; pure comedy friendship with Nobara and Yuji lol

Word Count: 3k

Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro’s secret relationship with you has been going smoothly—until his friends start noticing his odd behavior. Yuji and Nobara grow suspicious, launching a hilariously relentless mission to uncover what he’s hiding, while Gojo sits back, amused by the chaos. Will the two of you finally confess?

Warnings: y'all, I almost died writing this hilarious piece of work lmao, I never praise my own work but that bonus has me rolling, if you're looking for a bandage for your broken heart there it is, fluff fluff fluff

Please let me know what you think! If this does well, I might write some more about the chaotic trio lol

You never thought keeping a secret would be this much fun.

Your relationship with Megumi started quietly, just like most things with him. There was no grand confession, no dramatic kiss in the rain. It was slow, understated, like the way shadows stretch out under the setting sun. You had been drawn into his orbit naturally, like you’d been waiting for it to happen all along.

Still, it wasn’t exactly planned. One moment you were sitting next to each other in silence, and the next you were sitting a little too close. Your fingers brushed. His eyes lingered. The air between you became charged with unspoken things, and soon enough, stolen moments were the only thing keeping you sane. The decision to keep it quiet came easily: neither of you had any desire to deal with the chaos that would break out if anyone found out. And besides, it was kind of thrilling.

But now it’s starting to get tricky.

It’s a normal Wednesday when the subtle shift in the atmosphere begins. Megumi is acting just a little too normal - stiffer, as if he’s hyper-aware of everything. He’s not good at this, at pretending everything is fine when there’s something simmering underneath. And unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for his odd behavior to catch some unwanted attention.

“Hey, Megumi,” Yuji calls from across the room, his eyes squinting suspiciously.

“You’re acting weird. Are you okay?”

Megumi doesn’t even flinch, though his eyes are literally glued to the ground.

“I’m fine.”

That’s it. Flat, simple, closed. He’s good at short answers. It should be enough. It’s not.

Yuji leans over the back of the couch, brow furrowed in confusion.

“No, you’re definitely acting off. You haven’t been sarcastic all morning. And usually by now, you’ve threatened to hit me at least twice.”

Megumi sighs, fingers twitching in his lap, the only outward sign of his discomfort.

“I’m fine, Yuji. Maybe you’re just imagining things.”

Yuji is definitely not convinced. He glances at Nobara, who’s lounging nearby with her arms crossed, already suspicious. She had been eyeing Megumi the second he walked in, catching onto his strange energy faster than Yuji had.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed it too,” she adds, voice sharp.

“Something’s up. You’ve been... I don’t know, distracted?”

“Seriously, I’m—” Megumi starts, but Nobara cuts him off, grinning.

“You’re not hiding anything from us, are you, Fushiguro?” Her eyes gleam with mischief, and you can tell she’s just playing around.

For now.

“Oh, I think I know it!”, Yuji suddenly announces with his arms stretched in the air.

“Do you really, idiot?”, Nobara remarks.

You almost lose your cool, cold sweat dripping down your neck while waiting for Yuji’s next words. He didn’t catch it, did he? Not when you’ve been carefully avoiding being too close to Megumi while they’re around since you first joined Jujutsu High. He simply can’t know it-

Megumi’s eyes flick to you, a barely noticeable glance paired with his reddened cheeks, but it’s enough. Too much. Your heart skips in your chest, and you quickly look away, hoping no one else caught it. But then-

“Oh.” Yuji’s eyes widen in realization, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, I get it now.”

Megumi’s spine visibly stiffens.

“No, you don’t.”

But it’s too late. Yuji has already decided he’s figured it out.

“You’ve got a crush on someone, don’t you?” Yuji practically shouts, leaning forward in his seat with excitement.

“That’s why you’ve been all weird lately!”

Nobara sits up, clearly intrigued by this new development. “Wait, what? Megumi has a crush?”

“I do not,” Megumi says, but he’s starting to lose his calm now.

You can tell by the way his hand runs through his hair a little too harshly, as if he’s trying to ground himself.

You bite back a smile. Megumi can be as composed as he wants, but when it comes to things like this, he’s terrible at hiding it.

“You’re totally lying,” Nobara declares, standing up and crossing the room to get a better look at him.

“Who is it? Do we know them?”

Megumi groans, pressing his fingers to his temples as if he’s already getting a headache. You’re trying hard not to laugh because if you do, they’ll turn their attention to you. You’ve been careful this whole time to stay out of the line of fire, just a silent observer to this chaos.

But you know it’s only a matter of time.

“I’m not lying,” Megumi grumbles, clearly regretting every decision that led him to this point. “There’s no one.”

It’s almost convincing. Almost.

Yuji leans back, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Nah, you’re definitely lying. You’re terrible at it. You get all tense, like right now.”

“I’m always tense,” Megumi shoots back.

“True,” Nobara agrees,

“but this is different. You’re acting sketchy.”

Megumi shoots her a flat look, but Nobara only smirks back. She’s having way too much fun with this.

“Is it the one we’ve met at that pizza place yesterday, the one with a big ass and those nice hair?”, Yuji shouts into the conversation.

“The girl from yesterday?”, you repeat before you can stop yourself, arms crossing in front of your tightening chest.

“You guys are gross.”

Megumi’s gaze meets yours, panic shimmering underneath the surface while he fumbles with his own hands.

“What? No! It’s not that one!”

“Oh, not that one, huh? Who is it, then?”

“Fine,” Megumi says, standing abruptly.

“I’m going for a walk.”

Before they can say another word, he stalks out of the room, leaving you alone with Yuji and Nobara. You let out a quiet breath of relief, grateful they didn’t notice you.

Yuji turns to Nobara, eyes wide.

“This is huge. Megumi’s got a crush.”

Nobara hums thoughtfully, rubbing her chin.

“He’s never shown any interest in anyone before. It must be serious.”

“I wonder who it is,” Yuji muses, glancing around the room as if expecting the answer to jump out at him.

Your pulse quickens. If you stay here any longer, you’re going to blow your cover.

“I’m gonna grab some water,” you announce quickly, standing up.

You manage to make it halfway to the kitchen before Nobara’s voice calls after you, filled with sudden realization.

“Wait a minute. You were with him all morning, weren’t you?”

You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Weren’t you two on a mission yesterday?” Yuji adds, piecing it together far too quickly for your liking.

“And last weekend, too?”

Panic rises in your throat, but you manage to keep your expression neutral when you turn back to face them.

“We’ve just been on a few missions together. That’s all” you say, voice steady.

Nobara narrows her eyes, scrutinizing you.

“Uh-huh. And you didn’t notice him acting weird?”

“Not really. Maybe he’s just worn-out” you lie, doing your best to stay calm.

Yuji tilts his head, still unconvinced but willing to drop it for now.

“Yeah, maybe.”

But Nobara isn’t so easily swayed.

“You sure? Because you’re looking a little-”

“Nobara,” you interrupt,

“you’re overthinking it.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, with a final hum of suspicion, she shrugs and lets it go.

But just as you think you’re in the clear, a new voice cuts through the tension.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

Gojo saunters in, sunglasses perched lazily on his nose, a knowing smirk already playing on his lips. He must have been eavesdropping because he’s grinning like he’s just hit the jackpot.

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to figure out what’s up with Megumi,” he notes, voice dripping with amusement.

“That kid’s an enigma even to himself.”

Yuji perks up at the sight of Gojo, excited to rope someone else into their investigation.

“We think he’s got a crush.”

Gojo pauses, grin widening.

“Oh, is that so?”

You stand frozen in place as Gojo’s eyes slowly slide over to you, lingering for a beat too long. He knows. You don’t know how he knows, but he knows. He’s always been good at reading between the lines, picking up on things that most people miss. Megumi that traitor, did he really leave you all alone with these two and now even Gojo?

His smirk deepens.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, leaning casually against the wall, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“I wonder who it could be.”

You’re going to kill Megumi. You’re both dead. This is it. The end of your secret.

But before Gojo can say anything else, Megumi walks back into the room, his expression darkening as he notices Gojo’s presence.

“What are you doing here?” Megumi asks, his voice flat.

“Oh, just catching up with the kids. They were telling me about your little crush” Gojo replies innocently.

Megumi’s eyes dart between you, Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo, clearly calculating his next move.

“There’s no crush,” he replies, exasperation creeping into his voice again.

“Yuji’s just being an idiot.”

“Hey!” Yuji protests, but Megumi ignores him.

Gojo chuckles, pushing off the wall with an exaggerated stretch.

“Well, I think I’ll let you all handle this. Good luck with the investigation.”

He winks in your direction before sauntering out of the room, leaving you tense and trying to avoid Megumi’s gaze.

Yuji and Nobara are still watching him, and you can tell they’re not going to let this go anytime soon.

“So,” Nobara says, crossing her arms. “Are you going to tell us who it is, or are we going to have to follow you around until we figure it out?”

Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly fed up. “There’s no one.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” Yuji mutters, shaking his head.

Megumi’s about to respond, but then his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and his expression softens for just a split second before he tucks it away again.

You know who it is. He knows you know.

You’re barely holding back your laughter at this point, trying to keep a straight face. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you have to look away before anyone else notices.

But Megumi, in his ever-stubborn way, is still trying to salvage this mess.

“I’m going for another walk,” he announces abruptly, clearly done with this interrogation.

“Uh-huh,” Nobara calls after him, grinning like a cat who just caught a mouse.

“Sure, go clear your head, lover boy.”

You can’t help but chuckle quietly as Megumi shoots you a helpless look before heading out the door.

As soon as he’s gone, Yuji leans over to Nobara, whispering loudly.

“Do you think he’s texting his crush?”

Nobara grins, leaning back in her chair.

“Definitely.”

You bite your lip, doing your best to keep your composure while peeking at your phone.

Sorry for the mess. Meet me later in my dorm?

This is going to get much harder to hide.

Later that night, when you and Megumi finally have a moment to yourselves at his dorm, he sighs heavily, dropping down onto the couch beside you. He looks exhausted, and not just from the missions. The day’s events have clearly taken their toll.

“This is getting ridiculous,” he mutters, rubbing his temples.

You smile softly, leaning into his side.

“It’s kind of your fault, you know.”

Megumi groans.

“I know.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both sit there, the weight of your secret relationship pressing down on you. But it’s not a bad weight. It’s more like a blanket, warm and comforting, something shared between the two of you. Something that’s just yours.

Still, you can’t help but tease him.

“You’re really bad at lying.”

Megumi turns his head to look at you, a small, exasperated smile pulling at his lips.

“Shut up.”

You laugh quietly, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the tension melt away as his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining. For now, it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters.

“Maybe we should tell them,” you suggest softly, half-joking.

Megumi’s body stiffens for a second, but then he relaxes, a soft hum escaping his throat.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, voice low.

“But not yet.”

You smile, content with the secrecy for now. It’s your little world, and as chaotic as it is, it’s yours to navigate together.

And for now, that’s enough.

Bonus:

The decision to finally tell them wasn’t exactly well-planned. In fact, it wasn’t planned at all.

It happened after another long day of training. Yuji had been particularly insufferable, constantly pestering Megumi about his “mystery crush,” while Nobara was fuming over how Megumi wouldn’t let her in on the secret.

You and Megumi exchanged looks all day, the unspoken question hanging between you both: Should we just tell them?

By the time the sun set and everyone was lounging in the common area, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Nobara was pacing the room, practically radiating with frustration, while Yuji sat on the edge of the couch, watching Megumi like a hawk.

You were sitting next to Megumi, trying not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. You hadn’t expected the pressure to mount like this. They’d been relentless for days now.

“Okay, I’m done!”

Nobara throws her hands in the air, eyes narrowing at Megumi.

“I can’t take it anymore! You have to tell us. Who is it?”

Yuji nods rapidly, his eyes wide and pleading.

“Please, man, just tell us! The suspense is killing me.”

Megumi lets out a long, exasperated sigh. He’s been handling this for a week now, and it’s clearly taken its toll. He shoots you a quick, sideways glance, silently asking for your input.

You shrug with a small smile, mouthing.

“Your call.”

With another sigh, Megumi straightens up and clears his throat.

“Fine,” he says, his voice firm.

“I’ll tell you.”

Both Nobara and Yuji freeze, their eyes going wide with excitement.

“Finally!” Nobara yells, nearly vibrating with impatience.

“Okay, okay. Who is it? Is it someone we know?” Yuji questions, leaning in closer.

Megumi looks at you again, and you give him a reassuring nod.

Then, with a small smirk tugging at his lips, Megumi casually slips his hand into yours, right there in front of them.

At first, there’s silence. Complete, deafening silence.

Yuji’s mouth falls open, eyes flicking between your joined hands and your faces, his brain clearly short-circuiting.

Nobara, on the other hand, just stares. Blinks. Then her hands slowly rise to cover her mouth, her eyes growing impossibly wide.

“Wait—” Yuji finally speaks, voice squeaking a little.

“YOU—YOU AND—”

Megumi sighs.

“Yeah. Me and (y/n). We’ve been dating for a while now.”

That’s when all hell breaks loose.

“WHAT?!” Yuji practically screams, jumping up from the couch and pointing at your intertwined hands like they’re some sort of mythical creature.

“NO WAY! This whole time? You guys were dating this whole time?!”

Nobara just starts shrieking incoherently. It’s a mix of disbelief and outrage, her voice a high-pitched wail as she dramatically collapses onto the couch like she’s been personally betrayed.

“YOU HID THIS FROM US?!” she yells, clutching a pillow like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

“HOW COULD YOU?! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!”

You burst out laughing, unable to keep it in any longer. Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting every choice that led to this moment.

Yuji is pacing now, running his hands through his hair, still trying to process everything.

“How did I not see it? I mean, I thought you had a crush, but I didn’t think it was… this!” he gestures wildly between the two of you, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Oh my God!” Nobara yells again, standing up suddenly.

“This is insane! You’ve been sneaking around this whole time? That’s it. I demand details! Right now. How long has this been going on?”

“Yeah!” Yuji chimes in, pointing accusingly at Megumi.

“How did you manage to keep this a secret from me of all people?”

You laugh again, raising your hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay, calm down! It’s been a few months. We just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“A few months?” Nobara shrieks, grabbing Yuji’s arm like she needs to hold onto something before she passes out.

“That’s practically a year in relationship time! How did you keep this from us? I’m so offended right now.”

“I knew you were acting weird!” Yuji exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.

“All those times you disappeared, Megumi! I knew something was up!”

Megumi groans, running a hand through his hair.

“You guys are overreacting.”

“Overreacting? This is the most exciting thing that’s happened all year and you hid it from us! You’re for the streets, Fushiguro!” Nobara echoes, voice high-pitched with disbelief.

Yuji nods, agreeing way too quickly.

“Yeah, we need details. Dates, first kiss, how did it start, everything.”

Before you can answer, a familiar voice interrupts the chaos.

“Oh, you guys are just figuring this out now?”

You all turn to see Gojo leaning casually against the doorway, a smug grin plastered on his face, arms crossed like he’s been watching this unfold for a while.

“What?” Nobara screeches again.

“YOU KNEW?!”

Gojo shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Obviously. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out.”

Yuji’s jaw drops to the floor.

“You didn’t tell us?”

Gojo tilts his head, grinning.

“And ruin the fun of watching you two idiots freak out? Why would I do that?”

Nobara looks like she’s about to combust.

“So, you just let us suffer, while you were sitting there knowing the whole time?!”

Gojo shrugs again, completely unbothered.

“You’re welcome.”

Yuji groans, dramatically flopping onto the couch beside Nobara.

“I can’t believe this. I feel so betrayed.”

Nobara crosses her arms, huffing.

“Yeah, same. This is worse than the time Yuji ate my fries.”

“Hey, that was an accident!” Yuji protests.

Nobara glares at him.

“It was not an accident.”

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reidmarieprentiss · 3 days

Note

Could you perhaps write something? It’s the readers birthday and Reid waits all day to see if she brings it up, but they never do. So he shows up at her apartment with a gift for her and tells her he’ll always remember her birthday, even if she doesn’t tell anyone when it is. And then a little smut occurs. 😱

Birthday Surprise

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut (18+), fluff

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, forgotten birthday

Word count: 7.9k

a/n: this is such a great idea i'm so sorry it took me forever to get around to writing it !! it's probably way smuttier than you thought lolol i was in a smut slump but we're back !

main masterlist

Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving) protected PinV

The day unfolds like any other, with the usual rush of paperwork, coffee runs, and the occasional moment of laughter echoing through the bullpen. You stay focused on your work, avoiding any unnecessary interactions that might draw attention to yourself. After all, it’s your birthday, but you’ve chosen to keep that to yourself. It feels strange, withholding such personal information, but in a high-stakes environment like this, there’s a part of you that prefers to blend into the background. Birthdays aren't meant to be a spectacle here.

You glance around the room, noticing the typical energy coursing through the space, unaware that a pair of eyes have been subtly watching you all morning. Spencer Reid, as meticulous with people as he is with facts, has always been someone who notices the little things others tend to miss. Today, it’s your silence, the absence of a celebratory card, or a slice of cake that catches his attention. He’s well aware of what today means, not because you told him, but because he knows. Just like he knows the birthdays of every other team member, except yours is different—yours matters more to him.

Spencer taps his pen against his notebook, his gaze drifting toward you. He debates internally whether to say anything, to let you know he’s aware. He’s read enough about social norms to understand that birthdays often come with expectations—balloons, cake, a few awkwardly sung lines of "Happy Birthday"—but that’s not your style. He’s noticed how you avoid the spotlight, how you prefer quiet moments over public celebrations. Still, he wonders if there’s something you’re hoping for today.

Penelope, typically the beacon of all things celebratory, hasn’t said anything either. But Spencer figures you’ve kept it quiet on purpose. He knows Penelope would have plastered the office with decorations had she been aware, and since the office remains as normal as ever, Spencer figures you’re not in the mood for that kind of attention.

He watches you, waiting for a sign—a smile, a quick glance his way, anything that might suggest you’d appreciate a private acknowledgment. When nothing comes, he respects your decision, but there’s a gnawing feeling inside him. Birthdays are supposed to be special, and even though you’ve chosen not to celebrate, he can’t just let it pass without doing something. Not for you.

The day comes to an end, and not a single word has been spoken about your birthday. You’ve kept it quiet, of course, but still, the silence lingers a bit more than you expected. Not from anyone else, and not from you. Spencer has watched the day unfold in his quiet, observant way, and though he knows you’re not one for grand gestures, he can’t let this pass unnoticed.

After leaving the office, Spencer’s mind is already set on what he needs to do. He stops by your favorite restaurant, carefully picking up dinner. You never told him your favorite spot, but he’s always been the kind of person who pays attention to the little things—especially when it comes to you. He takes pride in knowing these details, even if he’s never made a show of it.

From there, he heads to a local bakery, the door chiming just as the frustrated baker is about to close. Spencer, out of breath and apologetic, manages to convince the baker to stay open just long enough to get a small cake with your name written on it. The generous tip helps, but more than anything, it’s the desperation in Spencer’s voice that softens the baker’s resolve.

Now, standing outside your front door with his arms full—dinner in one hand, cake in the other—he uses his elbow to press the doorbell, feeling a flicker of nervousness that’s unusual for him. He never shows up unannounced like this, but he knows this is different. This matters.

Inside, you’re curled up on the couch, completely absorbed in the book your parents sent you as a gift. It’s one you’ve been dying to read for months, and it’s been the perfect way to end your quiet day. The unexpected ring of the doorbell pulls you from your peaceful moment, your brow furrowing slightly as you set the book down.

You tiptoe toward the door, glancing out the sheer blinds to see who it could possibly be at this hour. When you spot Spencer standing there, your heart skips a beat. You quickly open the door, a confused grin tugging at your lips.

"Reid?" you ask, your voice light but puzzled. "What are you doing here?"

He shifts awkwardly, his arms still burdened with dinner and the cake, and there’s a sheepishness in his expression that’s both endearing and unexpected.

"Happy birthday," he says, though it comes out more like a question, his uncertainty evident.

Your heart swells at the sight of him, the surprise of his gesture hitting you all at once. You glance at the dinner in one hand, the cake in the other, and something warm blooms in your chest.

"Thank you," you say, your voice soft as you open the door wider. "Come in, please."

Spencer followed you into the kitchen, his eyes subtly taking in the details of your small, cozy home. It occurred to you that this was the first time he had ever been inside, and that realization only added to the strange, fluttery feeling that had been building inside you since he showed up at your door.

He set the bags down on the counter, the quiet clinking of takeout containers filling the brief silence between you.

“How, um... how did you know it was my birthday?” you asked softly, a hint of shyness in your voice.

Spencer didn’t look up immediately, making himself busy with the food, carefully unpacking it as though it were an everyday task. “I would never forget your birthday, Y/N,” he replied, his voice so matter-of-fact yet warm.

His words struck something deep inside you, and your heart swelled all over again, the warmth spreading through your chest and into your limbs. “Reid... that's so sweet,” you murmured, barely able to contain the emotion in your voice.

He smiled over his shoulder at you, that soft, almost boyish grin that made everything feel lighter. “I hope this is okay,” he said, turning around to show you what he had brought. “I guessed you’d like this.”

You blinked, staring at the familiar containers in his hands, and your breath caught in your throat. It wasn’t just any takeout—it was your favorite order from your absolute favorite restaurant. Your mind struggled to process how he could have known, and your body felt like it was on the verge of exploding with a tidal wave of affection and gratitude.

“H–how?” you stammered, unable to get out anything more coherent as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you.

Spencer shrugged in that sweet, almost bashful way he did sometimes, his eyes meeting yours as he simply said, “I pay attention.”

Those three words hit you harder than anything else he could’ve said. It wasn’t just the dinner, or the cake, or even the fact that he’d remembered your birthday without you saying a word—it was that he saw you, truly noticed you, in ways you didn’t think anyone ever did.

Without thinking, you stepped closer, your eyes soft and full of everything you couldn’t put into words. “Reid, you didn’t have to do all of this,” you whispered, but there was no mistaking the happiness in your tone.

He smiled gently, placing the food down on the counter. “I know,” he said, his voice soft, “but I wanted to.”

And just like that, your quiet birthday became something more than you ever could have expected—because of him.

As the two of you settled into an easy rhythm of conversation over dinner, it felt surprisingly natural—despite the unexpectedness of the evening. You sat across from each other at your small kitchen table, the soft clinking of forks against takeout containers punctuating the space between your words. Spencer, usually so reserved and careful, seemed more relaxed, as if the intimacy of the moment had broken down some of his usual barriers.

“You know,” Spencer began between bites, “this restaurant has one of the highest customer satisfaction ratings in the area. I didn’t just pick it at random—I wanted to make sure it was perfect.” He looked up at you, his eyes bright with sincerity.

You smiled, taking in how thoughtful he had been without even realizing how much it meant to you. "I can’t believe you went to so much trouble for this. I really don’t expect anything big for my birthday."

Spencer shrugged, his expression so genuine it made your heart ache just a little. "Well, it’s not just any day. It’s your day. And you deserve to feel special."

His words landed gently, but with a depth that made your pulse quicken. You had always seen Spencer as more than a colleague, but you’d never really considered him in a romantic light. The way he was speaking tonight, though, made you notice things about him you hadn’t before.

“You’re really thoughtful, Reid,” you said, picking at your food, your voice soft. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone remember the little things like you do.”

He glanced at you with a shy smile, pushing his glasses up slightly. “I like to notice the important things. People tend to overlook those details, but they matter.”

His words hung in the air for a moment, and you suddenly realized how much attention he must’ve been paying all this time. Spencer was always observant—he was a profiler, after all—but this was different. He was talking about you, not in a way that made you feel studied, but in a way that made you feel seen.

“I guess I’ve never really thought about it like that,” you replied, your voice light, though your heart felt anything but. “Most people don’t pay that much attention.”

Spencer looked at you intently then, his gaze soft but unwavering. “It’s hard not to pay attention to you.”

The statement was simple, but the way he said it felt like something more. You felt your cheeks warm, caught off guard by the realization that Spencer Reid might see you in a way you hadn’t seen yourself.

“Reid, I—” you started, but he interrupted, not even realizing the shift in the conversation.

“And you’re always so organized with your case files,” he continued, a small smile playing on his lips. “I appreciate that about you. You make my job easier, and honestly, it’s hard not to enjoy working with you.”

You laughed softly, feeling flustered but trying to keep it light. “You make me sound like I’m perfect or something.”

He tilted his head, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I’ve always thought you were... well, pretty amazing.”

“I... I didn’t know you felt that way,” you admitted quietly, playing with your fork to avoid looking directly at him.

Spencer, seemingly oblivious to the weight of his own words, shrugged again. “I'm not always good at saying what I’m thinking, but you’ve always stood out to me. I guess it’s just… obvious to me.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for the first time, you found yourself really considering Spencer Reid in a different light. Sure, he was brilliant, kind, and more attractive than you’d ever let yourself dwell on—but you had never imagined he might see you that way.

You felt... average. Just you. How could someone like Spencer, with his genius mind and thoughtful nature, possibly see you as anything more than a friend or colleague?

As you looked across the table at him, his expression soft and open, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you had been wrong about where you stood with him.

After the plates were cleared, you and Spencer sat side by side, laughing as you decided to abandon any pretense of formality and dig into the cake with forks. It was just the two of you, after all, and the evening had become too comfortable for anything else. Every bite seemed to add to the warmth between you, and even though neither of you had touched a drop of alcohol, it felt like you were both intoxicated—drunk on the unexpected affection and connection between you.

You noticed Spencer watching you with an intensity that was both thrilling and unsettling. His gaze felt heavier than usual, more present, more... intentional. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a little self-conscious under his watchful eyes. “What?” you asked, your voice light but breathless as your lips curled into a small, uncertain smile.

Spencer let out a soft laugh, a sound so gentle it sent warmth coursing through you. He shifted closer, his hand lifting, and before you could process what was happening, his palm was cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushed across your lips tenderly, lingering there.

“You have...” he murmured, eyes never leaving yours, “some frosting.”

His touch was electric, sending a shiver through you, though you were frozen in place. Your lips parted slightly in surprise, but you couldn’t move. Spencer's thumb continued to gently trace the curve of your bottom lip, the moment stretching between you, thick with something you hadn’t realized was there until now.

He leaned in a little closer, his breath brushing your skin as he whispered, “Y/N… I’m going to kiss you. Is that okay?”

His words, soft and tentative, sent your pulse racing, and you barely registered the nod you gave in response. But that was all he needed. Spencer's gaze flicked down to your lips, and he closed the remaining distance slowly, as if giving you every chance to stop him, though you knew you wouldn’t.

His lips met yours gently, a hesitant kiss that was soft, warm, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d been craving. The world seemed to fall away for a moment, leaving just the two of you, locked in something fragile and sweet.

Spencer’s hand stayed cradling your face as he deepened the kiss just slightly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. When he finally pulled back, just enough to look at you, his forehead rested gently against yours, and his eyes were still closed as if he were savoring the moment.

“Was that okay?” he asked quietly, his voice thick with emotion, still holding onto the last traces of your kiss.

You let out a shaky breath, your hands instinctively finding their way to his chest. “Mhm, very okay,” you whispered, smiling softly as your heart raced in your chest.

Spencer opened his eyes slowly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. The room felt heavier with meaning now, but it was the kind of weight you welcomed, a sense that things had shifted between you in the best possible way.

“Can I do it again?” Spencer asked, his voice playful, his lips pulling into a silly grin that made your heart flip.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness, your cheeks warming as you nodded once more. This time, though, you didn’t wait for him to make the first move. You leaned up toward him, your hands sliding from his chest to the back of his neck, your fingers gently threading through the soft strands of his hair.

Spencer’s hands moved from where they had been resting on your face, sliding down to your waist as he pulled you in closer, your bodies now pressed together with a new, delicious kind of tension. He let out a soft, happy hum, the sound vibrating through you, making you feel like your entire body was alight with warmth.

When you felt his tongue gently part your lips, exploring your mouth with such tender care, you couldn’t help the soft, sweet moan that escaped you. The sound seemed to stir something in Spencer, and you felt his fingers tighten on your waist just as a low, deep groan rumbled from his chest.

Encouraged by his reaction, you tangled your fingers further into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. The world outside this moment seemed to fade even more, leaving just the feeling of Spencer against you, the intoxicating heat between your bodies, and the soft sounds of contentment that passed between you both.

Each kiss was deeper than the last, each touch more deliberate, as if you were both slowly learning a new language made of gentle caresses and lingering glances. Spencer’s lips were soft and insistent against yours, but always so tender, as if he was savoring each moment, never wanting to rush. The feeling of his body pressed so intimately against yours, his hands gripping your waist like he never wanted to let go, made your pulse race.

Spencer pulled back ever so slowly, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You let out a soft whine, your body instinctively leaning forward, both at the loss of his lips and the delicious pull of his teeth. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath, the air between you thick with unspoken feelings.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he murmured, his voice soft and almost breathless, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Your heart skipped at his words, and you tilted your head slightly, curiosity getting the better of you. "How long?" you asked, your voice just as quiet, as if speaking too loudly might break the fragile intimacy between you.

Spencer laughed, the sound low and almost bashful. "Two years and three months," he said with a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your skin.

You paused for a moment, realizing how specific that time frame was. Then it hit you. "That's... that's when I started at the BAU," you said slowly, your mind racing to piece it together.

He nodded, his forehead still resting gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between. "Since the first day I saw you, I knew you were special."

His words hung in the air, and something inside you shifted. You could feel the weight of his confession settle in your chest, and it only made the moment feel more intense, more real. Spencer had been feeling this way for so long, waiting patiently, watching from the sidelines, all without you ever knowing.

That’s when you made your decision.

"Take me to the bedroom, Reid," you said, your voice steady but filled with anticipation.

Spencer pulled back instantly, his eyes wide in surprise, his expression almost comically stunned. "What?"

You held his gaze, your hand gently brushing his cheek as you repeated, more softly this time, "The bedroom, please?" You threw in your best puppy dog eyes, knowing it would be hard for him to say no.

For a moment, Spencer was frozen, his mind clearly racing to catch up with the reality of what was happening. "Okay—yeah, yeah," he stammered, still in shock but unable to hide the excitement building in his voice.

He stood back quickly, offering his hand to you with a mix of eagerness and hesitation. You took it, letting him pull you gently from the kitchen, the warmth of his palm against yours sparking something deep inside you. As he led you down the hallway toward the bedroom, your heart raced, the anticipation growing with every step.

As soon as the bedroom door closed behind you, your hands were already tugging at Spencer’s sweater vest, pulling it over his head with eager fingers. His usually neat hair was left a little wild and messy, and you couldn't help but giggle softly at the sight. He grinned back at you, shaking his head like a dog trying to shake off water, making you laugh even harder.

"You're ridiculous," you teased, but your words were laced with affection.

Spencer just smiled wider, his eyes filled with mischief and desire. Without missing a beat, his hands found the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up as you raised your arms in surrender, allowing him to undress you with deliberate care. The fabric slipped over your head, and as soon as it was discarded to the floor, you could feel his gaze roaming over your body.

His eyes lingered on your chest, clearly noticing the absence of a bra, and the way his breath caught sent a shiver through you. There was something so intense, so reverent in the way he looked at you that it made your skin tingle. His hands found their way to your breasts, his touch gentle yet filled with hunger, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

Without another word, Spencer dipped his head back down, capturing your lips in another kiss that left you breathless. This time, it was deeper, more urgent, as if all the emotions he'd been holding back for years were pouring into this moment. His thumbs rubbed at your nipples as he kissed you, and you could feel his heart beating wildly against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own as you whined softly into his mouth.

Your hands found their way to his hair again, tangling in the soft strands as you pressed your body closer to his, craving more of him, more of the way his lips moved against yours, more of the way his hands explored you.

The moment you felt the unmistakable press of Spencer’s arousal against you, your instincts took over. Your hands trailed down, quickly working at the waistband of his pants, eager to feel more of him. Spencer’s fingers left your body only long enough to undo the buttons of his shirt, your breaths becoming heavier as the distance between you both shrank even more.

Soon, he was down to just his briefs, his skin warm against yours, and for a second, you thought he was about to pull you into another kiss. But instead, he surprised you by crouching down in front of you, his hands resting on your hips. You looked down at him with curiosity and amusement, tilting your head.

“What are you doing down there?” you asked, laughing softly, though your heart was racing.

Spencer looked up at you, and the look in his eyes sent a rush of warmth through your body. There was something almost reverent about the way he gazed at you, like you were the most precious thing he'd ever laid eyes on. “I have wanted this for so, so long,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I want to savor every little bit of you.”

His words made you flush with heat, the intensity of his desire crashing over you like a wave. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and before you could say anything in response, Spencer's hands were moving again, removing the last pieces of your clothing as he kissed the newly exposed skin.

And then, you were standing completely bare before him, your most intimate parts now level with his face. The vulnerability of the moment, combined with the raw hunger in Spencer’s eyes, made you feel dizzy, but you couldn’t look away.

It seemed like this was exactly what he had wanted all along. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin before his tongue traced a sure stripe through your slick folds. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine, your knees almost buckling from the sheer intensity of it.

A gasp escaped your lips as Spencer continued, his mouth working with a determination that made it clear this was something he had imagined countless times before. His hands gripped your thighs, steadying you as he continued his ministrations, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes designed to unravel you from the inside out.

You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair once again as he savored you, just like he said he would.

"You taste better than I imagined," Spencer murmured between breaths, his voice thick with desire before he dove back in, his mouth moving over every inch of you, leaving no part untouched. His tongue was thorough, his lips relentless, and each movement made it harder for you to hold on to any coherent thoughts.

Your grip on his hair tightened as a desperate whimper escaped your lips. "You—ungh—you imagined this?" you managed to gasp out between moans, your voice shaky and breathless.

Spencer hummed against you in response, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. He didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, his mouth latching onto your clit with more intensity, suctioning his lips tightly before shaking his head back and forth, creating a sensation so intense it made you scream out, your body trembling with the force of it.

The sound that left you was raw, completely involuntary, as waves of pleasure rolled through you, Spencer's hands gripping your thighs tighter to hold you steady as you lost yourself in the moment. He was relentless, devouring you with an eagerness that matched his earlier words. It was clear he had thought about this—dreamed about this—and now, with you here in front of him, he wasn’t going to waste a single second.

"Reid..." you moaned, your voice breaking as your entire body responded to his touch, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. Each movement of his tongue, each gentle bite or hum, pushed you closer and closer to the edge, and all you could do was hold on tight, letting him take you wherever he wanted you to go.

But then, just as you were teetering on the edge, Spencer pulled back, leaving you breathless and aching for more. The sudden absence of his touch made your body tremble, a desperate whine escaping your lips. When you looked down, confused and still dazed with pleasure, you noticed the almost stern look in his eyes, his lips glistening as he gazed up at you.

"Spencer," he said, his voice low, full of intent.

Your brow furrowed slightly, your mind hazy from the high you had been riding. "What?" you managed to ask, your voice breathless and needy.

His eyes softened, but his expression remained firm. "Call me Spencer," he repeated, his tone a mixture of command and affection, as if this small detail mattered more than anything in that moment.

Before you could fully process it, he leaned back in, parting you gently with his thumbs to give himself even more access. The feeling was overwhelming, your body trembling as he resumed his ministrations with renewed intensity, his tongue and mouth working in tandem, more precise and focused than before.

The need in you swelled again, even stronger than before, and this time, you couldn’t hold back the moans that spilled from your lips. "Spencer," you gasped, his name escaping your lips like a prayer, your body arching into him as he pushed you further and further toward the edge.

Hearing his name on your lips seemed to spur him on, his movements growing even more deliberate as he devoured you with every ounce of the hunger he had been holding back. You were completely at his mercy, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel as he brought you closer and closer to the peak of pleasure, his name falling from your lips again and again.

Spencer could sense how close you were, your breath hitching and your body trembling beneath his touch. He doubled his efforts, his tongue moving with precision and urgency, his fingers pressing against your thighs to keep you steady. The need to see you completely unravel, to give you that release, spurred him on as he focused entirely on you.

Your moans grew louder, more desperate, and then, finally, the tension that had been building in your core snapped. You tilted your head back, your body arching as the overwhelming pleasure took over. With a loud, uncontrolled moan, your hands found Spencer’s hair, gripping it tightly, tugging hard as you released, your body shuddering and your mind reeling from the intensity of it all.

Spencer didn’t stop, his mouth never leaving you as he worked you through your climax, swallowing everything you offered him. The feel of your fingers gripping his hair, the way your body shook as you released in his mouth—it was everything he’d dreamed of, and more. Only when your body began to calm, your breath evening out, did he slowly pull back, his lips brushing against your skin one last time, savoring the moment.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of satisfaction as you slowly came back to reality. You were still breathless, your body weak from the intensity of your orgasm, but the way Spencer looked at you, filled with awe and admiration, made you feel like you were floating.

"That," he murmured softly, "was everything."

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, still floating in the afterglow, your head in the clouds, your body humming with the remnants of pleasure. Spencer slowly rose from his knees, his hands gently skimming your skin as he stood to his full height, a soft, amused smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you.

“You with me, beautiful?” he asked, his voice full of warmth and amusement as he stroked your hair, fingers threading through the strands tenderly.

You blinked up at him, your eyes still hazy with satisfaction, but your smile was soft and content. “I’m with you,” you replied, voice breathy but sincere, your whole body feeling like it was made of light.

Spencer chuckled, the sound affectionate and full of something deeper. “Good, good,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “Do you want to keep going?”

A slow smile spread across your lips, and the way you said, “Please, Spencer,” made his heart race with excitement and affection.

Spencer grinned, the playful glint in his eyes returning as he gently guided you down onto the pillows, his hands firm but tender. He leaned over you, his fingers brushing your cheek as he whispered, “Anything for the birthday girl.”

With that, Spencer lowered himself over you, his body pressing against yours with a sweet, delicious heat. You could feel the warmth of him, the anticipation growing as his lips found yours once again, slow and lingering, savoring every second. His hands explored your body as though he wanted to memorize every curve, every inch of your skin, and the way he touched you made your heart race all over again.

This wasn’t just about physical pleasure anymore—it was about something deeper, something that had been quietly building between you both for much longer than either of you had realized.

"Can you..." you started, but then hesitated, suddenly feeling a wave of shyness crash over you. This was Reid, after all, your colleague and friend, someone you'd see at work tomorrow. The reality of that hit you, and it made your heart race for an entirely different reason now.

Spencer, noticing the shift in your demeanor, raised an eyebrow, his voice soft and reassuring. "Can I what, darling?" he asked, a small, amused smile on his lips as he looked down at you.

You shook your head, trying to brush it off, but Spencer’s expression quickly shifted to concern. His hands, which had been tracing gentle patterns on your skin, paused, and his voice became softer, more serious. "Y/N... are you okay?"

You let out a quiet sigh, nodding, but there was still a lingering tension in your chest. "Just... is this going to be weird tomorrow?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The intimacy of the moment, the emotions wrapped up in everything that had just happened—it suddenly felt fragile when faced with the idea of seeing him at the office the next day, going back to the usual routine like nothing had changed.

Spencer's face softened even more, and he tilted his head, his eyes searching yours. "Weird?" he repeated, his voice thoughtful, as if he was carefully considering your words. He shifted slightly, his hand coming up to gently stroke your cheek. "No, Y/N, this doesn’t have to be weird."

You blinked up at him, your heart settling slightly at his calm demeanor. He continued, his voice gentle but certain. "We can take it one day at a time, okay? But if you're worried about work, nothing between us will change unless you want it to. I care about you too much to let this ruin anything.”

"If anything, this makes everything better," Spencer continued softly, his eyes full of sincerity as his hand stayed gently on your cheek. "I’ve wanted to be close to you for so long. I wouldn’t do anything to mess that up or make you feel uncomfortable. We can handle this however you want—slow, steady, or even just keeping it between us for now."

His words soothed the unease that had started to form, the tenderness in his tone making it clear that he wasn’t rushing anything, wasn’t trying to push for something more than what you were ready for. Spencer, as always, was careful, deliberate, and understanding. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, made you feel safe, even in this new, uncertain territory.

You took a deep breath, feeling some of the weight lift from your chest. "I just… I don’t want this to change things in a bad way," you admitted, your fingers lightly brushing over his arm as he hovered over you, your bodies still close but the air between you calmer now.

Spencer shook his head, his smile warm and full of affection. "It won’t. I promise. I’ll still be me, you’ll still be you. And we’ll figure out whatever this is together, one step at a time. You don’t have to worry about work or anything else right now. Just... be here with me tonight."

You felt a sense of relief wash over you, his words grounding you in the moment. The fear of what tomorrow might bring began to fade as you looked up at him, trusting that Spencer, with all his care and thoughtfulness, would never let this turn into something that would hurt either of you.

"Okay," you whispered, offering him a small smile. "I’m here with you."

Spencer’s face lit up with a soft, almost shy grin as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, his hands once again finding their way to your waist, holding you close as if reassuring you through his touch.

“Good,” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm and comforting. "Because I’m not going anywhere."

With that, the tension between you melted away, leaving only the quiet intimacy of the moment. Spencer guided you back onto the pillows, his movements slow and deliberate as he kissed you again, this time with more ease and tenderness, making it clear that whatever happened next would be on your terms, whenever you were ready.

Spencer groaned deeply into your mouth as you pushed his briefs down, your hand wrapping around him, stroking him with just enough pressure to make his breath hitch. You guided him into position, your need for him clear in the way your body responded. His lips never left yours, but his breath grew more ragged as the tension between you mounted.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours, his voice thick with restraint.

You whimpered in response, the feeling of him grinding against you, the tip of his cock hitting your clit, making it impossible to think of anything else. “Please, Spencer,” you begged, your voice trembling with need. “I want you so badly. Please.”

He let out a strained groan, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as your words washed over him. "Okay, okay," he whispered, trying to soothe you even though he was losing his own control. "Shh, you never have to beg me for anything, ever."

Your body writhed beneath him, desperate for more, for him, and you shifted your hips instinctively, trying to coax him to push inside. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and your need for him was palpable in every shaky breath you took.

Spencer, however, managed to hold onto a sliver of resolve, even as it wore thin. "Y/N, beautiful," he said, his voice rough, "we need to use a condom."

"Top drawer," you gasped, your words nearly a plea as your body moved beneath him, craving the release only he could give you. "Hurry!"

With a nod, Spencer fumbled toward the bedside table, pulling the drawer open with shaky hands. He found the box quickly, tearing it open with urgency. Your eyes stayed locked on him, watching every movement, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your skin burning with need.

He returned to you swiftly, sliding the condom on with practiced care, though his hands were trembling. The moment he was ready, he positioned himself above you again, his eyes filled with both desire and affection as he leaned down to kiss you, this time slower, savoring the feel of your lips against his.

"I'm here," he whispered, his voice softer now, filled with reassurance as he finally pressed forward, slowly pushing inside of you, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure crashing through both of you.

Your head fell back against the pillows, a loud, satisfied moan escaping your lips as he filled you completely, your body welcoming him in a way that felt natural, perfect. Spencer groaned, his breath hitching as he felt your tight walls constrict even further around him.

"Y/N, darling, relax, please," Spencer panted, his voice laced with both urgency and concern as he struggled to hold himself back, his body tense with restraint. He could feel your tightness, the way you clenched around him, and it was driving him wild, making it hard to stay in control.

You whimpered, your body still adjusting to the sensation. "You're just—ah!" Your voice broke into a loud gasp as he finally pushed all the way inside, filling you completely. The stretch was intense, overwhelming in the best way. "You're so big... why didn't you tell me you were so big?"

Spencer let out a tense chuckle, clearly amused by your reaction despite his own effort to keep himself in check. "I, uh... didn't think it was that big," he managed to get out, his breath shaky as he looked down at you, his forehead damp with sweat from the strain of holding himself back.

“You’re a fucking liar,” you laughed breathlessly through your whimpers and whines, your body trembling with both pleasure and amusement.

His chuckle, though filled with affection, was also tight with restraint, and you could feel the tension in his body as he tried to keep from moving too quickly. "Just... breathe," he murmured, his voice gentler now as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, trying to calm both you and himself. "I'll give you as much time as you need. I don't want to hurt you."

You nodded, taking deep breaths as your body slowly adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. Spencer’s hands stayed gentle, stroking your sides and thighs as he gave you time to acclimate, though you could feel him trembling with the effort of holding back.

After a moment, you shifted your hips, testing the sensation, and the movement elicited a low groan from Spencer, his self-control wavering. "Okay..." you whispered, your voice soft but filled with need. "I’m ready."

Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire as he slowly began to move. His pace was careful at first, each thrust deliberate as he let your body adjust to his size, but the tension between you built quickly, and soon, the rhythm grew more urgent, more desperate.

Each movement sent sparks of pleasure through you, the sensation of him filling you so completely making you dizzy with desire. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way he moved so perfectly in sync with you, as if you were made for each other.

Spencer groaned deeply, his forehead pressing against yours again as his movements grew more intense. "You feel so good," he murmured, his voice strained as he fought to hold himself back just a little longer, wanting to make this last as long as possible for both of you.

"Spencer!" you cried out, your nails digging into his back as your body trembled beneath him, the pleasure overwhelming you.

"Yeah, baby?" he panted, his voice rough and breathless as his hips slapped against yours in a steady, rhythmic motion. "Tell me what you need."

"You! More! Please!" Your voice was a desperate plea, every inch of your body burning with want.

"Fuck," he breathed, his control slipping as he sped up, his thrusts becoming more intense. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your clit as he began to rub you in time with his movements. The sensation made you cry out again, the combination of his fingers and his body sending you spiraling toward the edge.

“I’m—I’m gonna come,” you whined, your body trembling as you clenched tightly around Spencer, the sensation pushing you toward the brink.

“Y/N!” he gasped, his voice strained as he tried to hold on. “Calm down, baby, you’re going to push me out.”

But you were too far gone to hear him, lost in the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside you. Your whimpers grew louder, your body thrashing uncontrollably as Spencer’s fingers moved faster, working in perfect rhythm with your body's need.

Suddenly, it hit you all at once, the most intense release you’d ever experienced. You let out a violent scream, your entire body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, something deeper and more powerful than anything you'd ever felt before.

Your walls clenched so tightly that you did, in fact, push Spencer out, and you gushed all over him, your body overwhelmed by the force of your orgasm. Spencer let out a low groan at the sensation, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and arousal as he watched you come undone in front of him, watched your release coat his stomach and thighs.

“Did you just... squirt?” Spencer asked, his voice full of pure awe as he looked down at you, his eyes wide with amazement.

You were a panting mess on the bed, completely spent from the intensity of what had just happened. “That, or I just peed on you,” you mumbled, half-joking but still trying to make sense of the overwhelming sensation you had just felt.

Spencer laughed, shaking his head as he dipped down to kiss you, his lips soft against yours. “You are so sexy, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice full of affection and admiration.

You kissed him back tiredly, your body too exhausted to do much more, but the desire to give him what he needed still lingered. "Want you to come too," you whined softly, your words almost pleading.

“Okay, okay,” Spencer soothed, his breath hitching as he positioned himself once more, slowly pushing back inside you. The sensation made your body jolt, and you cried out, your back arching from the overstimulation. It was too much and yet not enough, the oversensitivity sending sharp pulses of pleasure through you.

“Are you okay, darling?” Spencer asked, his voice breathless as he fought to hold himself back, concerned about your comfort.

You nodded quickly, though your body was trembling beneath him. “Nuh huh,” you whimpered, your voice shaky as you gripped him tightly, pulling him closer. “I’m okay, I want this. Please,” you urged, your body still sensitive but craving the closeness, needing to feel him chase his own release.

Spencer groaned at your words, his resolve crumbling as he began to move again, thrusting into you with an increasing pace. His body was tense, his breath ragged as he neared the edge, each movement sending both of you into a dizzying spiral of pleasure.

You clung to him as he chased his release, your breaths mingling, your bodies connected in a way that felt intimate and overwhelming all at once. And when Spencer finally let go, his body shuddering as he found his own climax, you held him close as he groaned and whispered your name.

After Spencer had taken care of both of you, gently cleaning you up and even changing the sheets that had been soaked in your release, the two of you finally settled into bed, wrapped up in each other's arms. His body was warm against yours, his breath steady as he held you close. Everything felt so perfect, so right in that moment, like the world had shrunk to just the two of you in that cozy little space.

You nuzzled into Spencer's chest, feeling his heartbeat under your lips as you placed a soft kiss there. "I want things to be different," you mumbled, your voice quiet and filled with a softness that made his heart swell.

Spencer looked down at you, his hand stroking your hair gently. "Yeah?" he asked, the happiness in his voice evident. "Different how?"

You shifted slightly, still cuddled close, your lips brushing over his skin. "I want everyone to know," you murmured, your voice more certain this time.

Spencer chuckled softly, though he held you tighter, a smile spreading across his face. "Know what exactly?" he asked, teasing slightly, though he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

You tilted your head up, meeting his eyes with a sweet, serious look. "That you're my boyfriend," you said, your voice full of affection, but also with a sense of determination.

Spencer’s heart fluttered at your words, and he couldn’t help but break into a grin. He’d never thought he’d hear you say something so simple yet so powerful. "Boyfriend, huh?" he teased softly, though his own voice was thick with emotion. He pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours. "I think I’d like that," he whispered.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you like a blanket. "Good," you replied, kissing him softly. "Because I want everyone to know how lucky I am."

Spencer let out a soft laugh, his thumb gently tracing the outline of your face. "I think I’m the lucky one, Y/N," he murmured, his voice filled with nothing but pure, overwhelming happiness. And in that moment, with the two of you wrapped up in each other, everything felt like it was exactly as it should be.

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tag list <333 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303 @dead-universe @hbwrelic @kniselle @cynbx @danielle143 @katemusic @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @laurakirsten0502 @geepinky @mxlviaa @libraprincessfairy @fortheloveofgubler @super-nerd22 @k-illdarlings @softestqueeen @eliscannotdance

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alexwilltellyouthings · 3 days

Text

What if the confession happened as Edwin planned?

"I've been realizing that I..."

Charles is staring intently. Edwin can see he has no clue what's coming and it makes it easier and harder at the same time.

He almost wishes they were interrupted. Almost.

"I...", Edwin loses his words again, and looks down, sideways, trying to gather his courage anywhere else as if he doesn't know Charles' eyes are the only right place to look at.

For once, Charles doesn't say anything, sensing he needs time. Still, Edwin sees a frown just starting to form, and knows he has to get this over with for both of their sakes.

"It is not Monty", he says quickly, gazing back at Charles, "that I like".

Charles properly frowns now. After a couple of seconds, his expression changes entirely, going from confused to bewildered, and Edwin reads him easily.

"Not the Cat King, either."

Charles breathes out, breaking his composure entirely. "Thank God, mate. I mean, I wouldn't judge your taste or anything..."

Edwin raises an eyebrow and Charles chuckles.

"Okay, maybe I would, so I'm glad it's not him. But then who...?"

Edwin feels his throat close. Charles is searching him, waiting for an answer he, by all means, should know.

Edwin just stares back for a second, then two, then three, until Charles is not confused anymore. The crease between his eyebrows slowly fades and his lips part open just slightly.

Edwin gulps. "Who else?", he nearly whispers.

Charles' eyes are franctically moving between Edwin's and he tries to say something, but doesn't seem to be able to form any proper words.

Edwin rushes to continue, "You don't have to feel the same. I just needed to tell you".

And while it feels like every part of him is burning, Edwin still doesn't think this is over, not yet, so he licks his lips nervously and adds quietly: "That I'm in love with you".

That hits Charles so strongly he sways a little bit, and only then looks away.

"I, uh", he starts stupidly. "Edwin, I don't even..."

"You don't have to say anything..."

"No, but I want to", Charles says, and his own words bring him back to a steadier mindset. He takes a deep breath and sets his hands over Edwin's shoulders. "Edwin, you're my best mate. That'll never change. You're the most important person in the world to me, okay?"

Edwin nods, feeling as if it wasn't for Charles' hands, he would be combusting.

"And I don't..." Charles' grip gets a little tighter for a moment. "I don't know what that means right now, for us, or for me, but we have all the time in the world to figure it out, yeah?"

Edwin smiles without meaning to. He notices his eyes are tearful, for some reason, and Charles smiles back while bringing a hand up to dry Edwin's cheeks as those tears fall down.

"Thank you for telling me", Charles completes, and pulls Edwin into a hug.

Edwin allows it and allows himself to melt into the embrace. He agrees — they have all the time in the world, and this is just the beginning.

#this just came out very suddenly idk what happened #besides the fact I just watched the scene lmao and I've always wondered what Edwin would say if the NN didn't interrupt them #dead boy detectives #dbda #edwin payne #charles rowland #payneland #painland #fanfic

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misctf · 2 days

Text

Singing a New Tune

Written for Occam's 2000 Follower Writing Challenge

“Babe, I love you.”

Jared smiled down at Julie, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He had to imagine his girlfriend dreamed of this moment. A romantic kiss at a Tiffany Stabina concert as the star finished out her set with one of Julie’s favorite songs. A slow romantic song- one that Jared knew all too well from frequent replays in the car.

“Anything for you babe.” He replied, holding her closely in his muscular arms, “I love you too.”

This certainly wasn’t his kind of music. And he didn’t understand the cult-like devotion to Tiffany. But seeing Julie this happy? Worth it. Still, he imagined the other straight dudes here were thinking similarly. In fact, he and the guy next to him shared several looks throughout the night. A silent comradery acknowledging they’d rather be elsewhere. And if they had been elsewhere, Jared would’ve asked the guy for his arm day routine.

“Alright babe, we ought to head out before...”

“To all my fans, I love you!” Tiffany called out, their cheers drowning Jared’s words, “You’ve all been with me from the beginning, and I am so grateful.” She placed a hand over her heart, “But you all know I’ve been criticized.” The fans all booed, “And they’ve come after you too.”

“A bit dramatic.” Jared chuckled, earning a glare from Julie.

“You wouldn’t get it.” She replied, “They go after he for everything.” The jock nodded, not wanting to risk ruining their perfect night, “But when she sings, it’s like she’s speaking directly to you. People just don’t get it.” Jared nodded. There were some things just not worth it.

“I wasn’t going to do this, but I have a new song for you all this evening!” The crowd erupted in screams and applause. Jared groaned, “They say I’m pandering? Then I’ll pander.” She continued, and the crowd got louder.

Jared knew there would be no way of getting Julie to leave now. And he silently dreaded the hours they’d be stuck in traffic. But as the song started and Tiffany’s words echoed through the stadium, his thoughts slowed.

“They say I only cater to a few.”

Jared felt lightheaded, the sound of the crowd growing distant.

“The gays and the girls, oh boo hoo.”

“Julie?” He whispered, but she didn’t respond, “Julie, please...” He felt sick. The world was spinning, everything becoming black, “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” He whispered. He couldn’t move. Was he dying? Was this it?

“But I won’t back down, I won’t apologize.” Jared looked up and saw her. Tiffany Stabina. Standing in front of him, “For making them feel alive.” She strutted towards the helpless jock.

“What...? How is this...?”

“I see you dancing in the dark, feeling completely torn apart.” She sang.

Jared yelped as he felt a cool breeze caress him. And to his horror, he realized he was nude. Butt naked in front of Tiffany Stabina no less. She grinned and approached him, circling his nude figure and wrapping her arms around him.

“Embrace your uniqueness, don’t hide.”

Jared gasped as she placed pressure on his shoulders. He felt the floor getting closer as he lost inch after inch of height. He now stood at eye level with the 5’6” popstar.

“Wait? What did you do to me?” He yelped.

“Now let my music take you for a ride.”

She ran a hand along his muscular arms. Her very touch sent a wave of pleasure straight to his dick, and he blushed as all 10 inches stood at attention. Tiffany smirked, but continued rubbing his biceps and triceps. Her sensual touch was intoxicated, and Jared watched helplessly as his proud muscles started to diminish. His biceps atrophied, followed quickly by his triceps. His slender arms giving off the appearance they hadn’t seen a gym in years. He tried to cry out, but Tiffany placed a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him. He could only watch as her hands roamed his impressive pecs. He had always been proud of his pecs, and he loved when Julie rested her head on his chest. But now, he could only watch as they flattened away.

“Wait...” He was able to force out. But Tiffany was relentless, and her hands roamed down his abs.

He shed a few tears as his abs vanished, leaving him with a flat, slender tummy. There was no way this could be happening. It had to be some type of acid trip or something. Jared kept trying to reassure himself, even as she moved to his legs and quickly destroyed his muscular thighs and calves, leaving his legs slender and dainty. His feet followed, and quickly diminished from size 13s to 9.5s in mere seconds.

“My music is my contagion, unapologetic. Now we’re gonna collide.” Tiffany continued, this time wrapping her hands around his cock, “My fans are my tribe, I won’t divide.”

Jared felt like the wind was knocked out of him from both the pain and pleasure from her touch. And he watched as she shrunk his proud member. The young jock always knew he was well endowed. And he knew how to use it too. But as he watched his dick shrink from its proud ten inches to a mere 3 inches hard, he felt his confidence diminish.

“We’ll rise together, side by side.”

Her hands made their way to his flat ass. He tried to crane his neck to see what she was about to do. But he didn’t need to see. He could immediately feel his ass expand in her hands, filling them with firm, yet jiggly fat and muscle. He let out a moan as she caressed his basketball-sized ass cheeks, and he nearly came when she gave one a firm slap.

“Pl-please stop...” He begged as she placed a hand over his neck, “You can't do thith...” His voice cracked and he winced, “What’th happening to my voithe? Why do I thound like thith?” He begged, his voice cracking, “No, thith doethn't thound right.” His voice settled a few octaves higher, his masculine tone now lost forever.

“So bring on the hate, let the critics rage. We’ll keep on dancing, it’s time to turn the page.”

As she continued to caress his now slender body, and grind against him, he felt off. His dick softened, as her physicality became less appealing to him. Her bouncing boobs and thick lips didn’t seem to do it for him. Even her touch was losing its pleasure. And he realized in terror what was occurring.

“No, not thith!” He begged, “Come on, come, think of thomething.” He remembered the BJ Julie gave him last night, and even the lesbian porn he watched a few days ago. But his measly member stayed soft, “No... pleathe...”

He felt Tiffany’s hand on his head. His pleading eyes met hers, and he knew he’d find no mercy. His hair restyled itself, and he felt a piercing pain in his left earlobe, which suddenly adourned a diamond stud. But her touch was doing far more than making a few style alterations. In his mind, his memories were shifting. Showering after football practice? Changing in the locker room after a lifting session with his bros? Watching football with his family?

“Oh god...” He moaned, as his small dick hardened and his ass throbbed with need.

He didn’t play football. He got fucked by the quarterback in the shower after a game. He wasn’t lifting at the gym. He was doing cardio and sucking off the gym bros between their sets. He didn’t watch sports like football. He just sat and scrolled on his phone, reading up on the latest Tiffany Stabina gossip and scrolling his socials. And as his new reality cemented itself, Jared’s eyes lost their intelligent spark and became half-lidded, his brain filling with celebrity gossip and how to please guys.

“This contagion’s here to stay, and we’ll celebrate it every day.”

She kissed him on the cheek. And with that, Jared was back. The cheers of the crowd filling his ears, as Tiffany thanked her fans and left the stage. Jared smiled.

“Oh my god! That wath tho amathing!” He cheered, “Tiffany! I love you!” He yelled, “It wath like Tiffany thpoke to me.”

“You felt that way too?” Jared turned and came face to face with a man of similar build. Albeit with slightly bigger arms, “Tiffany, like, totally thpeakth for uth.” He grinned as Jared felt up his arms.

“Wait!” A voice called out behind him, “Did you see the guy I came here with?” Julie asked, looking around desperately, “I swear, he was right here. I...”

“Thorry thithter, I hope you find him!” Jared replied, turning his attention back to the guy.

“Tho weird, thome poor girl athked me about her boyfriend too.” The man replied, “Probably got drunk and left to watch football.”

“OMG tho lame.” Jared laughed. The two smiled at one another, “Tho, like...”

“Wanna go back to my place? I have her latetht album.” The man winked, and Jared shuddered as his ass throbbed with need.

“That thounds delightful.” Jared replied, pulling the man in closer, his smile widening as the man squeezed his ass, “Oh! But like firtht I totally need a thelfie! I want everyone to know I thupport Tiffany and Tiffany thupports me!” He cheered, capturing their kiss on camera and posting it to his socials.

Later that night, Jared and his lover explored one another’s new bodies. Jared gasping at the size of his lover’s cock, moaning as he felt a firm hand squeeze his ass. His moans would continue to fill the room that night. With each thrust of his new lover’s dick, Jared was in heaven. Unaware of his former life or the horror it would bring his former self to see him like this. Just another horny slut- another gay twink dedicated to Tiffany Stabina.

#occam2000 #male transformation #male tf #mental change #straight to gay #twink tf #personality tf

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changetyre · 2 days

Note

Hope uni is treating you well! Whenever you have time, could I request a carlos x bodyguard!reader? However u wanna play it but i need a kick ass fem reader. TIA!

Size isn't everything II Carlos Sainz x Bodyguard!Reader

SUMMARY: Carlos gets assigned a new bodyguard and you're not what he expected but he is happily surprised.

WARNINGS: Kinda sexist/cocky Carlos, violence ish, barely suggestive comments.

A/N: I kinda loved this request and it took me a sec to come up with an idea so hope you enjoy ;)

Carlos Sainz was a big name in Formula 1, a Spanish heartthrob used to the chaos that was his job—the screaming and shouting for his name and the often unwanted attention that came with being a Ferrari driver. With his recent rise in fame came an increase in security in every country he traveled to. His team had insisted on bringing in a personal bodyguard after a terrifying incident involving female fans almost getting into his hotel room. Carlos had laughed it off, said it wouldn't happen again and he could take care of himself.

That’s when he met you.

You stood at the entrance to his garage, arms folded, your expression neutral. Petite, a quarter of the size of all the other bodyguards Carlos had ever had. But he couldn't deny there was something about your sharp gaze and confident stance that made you stand out.

You dressed in a black workout set, your hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. If you were nervous about protecting one of the most sought-after names in Formula 1 at his home race you didn’t show it.

Carlos couldn’t help the cheeky grin as he approached you.

“You’re my new bodyguard?” he asked, the skepticism evident in his tone.

You raised an eyebrow. “Seems like it, yeah.” you replied firmly.

He chuckled. “No offense, but aren’t you… a little small for the job?”

Your lips twitched and Carlos was surprised to see a hint of a smile break out. “Size isn’t everything, Sainz.” Your eyes shamelessly scanned him, "You must know that."

Carlos huffed surprised at the insinuation. “Hmm, I guess we'll see.” There was a hint of amusement in his tone.

You just didn’t look like you could handle much. He figured you were probably hired because of your good looks, maybe people would think he had finally found someone and back off.

For the next few days, Carlos treated you like a shadow—hardly noticing you as you followed him from races to meetings, to hotel rooms, always a few steps behind, your presence barely noticeable.

You remained professional, never reacting to his teasing remarks or flirty comments. But there was an undercurrent of tension, a game neither of you had fully acknowledged yet.

It was on the evening before a major race when things took a turn. Carlos plastered on a fake smile as he attended a VIP event at one of Monaco’s exclusive clubs. As usual, he held a drink in hand, surrounded by suck-ups and sportsmen alike. You stood nearby, your eyes scanning the room, attentive.

Carlos had noticed a man lingering at the edge of the crowd, staring intently at him. Initially ignoring it, he was used to this attention from fans anyway. But something about the man’s gaze felt different. Too intense. He shifted uncomfortably, and you were quick to pick up on his unease.

Without a word, you moved closer to him, your posture subtly shifting into something more alert.

“Everything okay?” you asked quietly, your voice barely audible over the loud music.

Carlos's hand wrapped around your waist admiring the change of attire for tonight. The dress showing off your curves better than any of those sets you often wore could.

“Yeah, just… that guy’s giving me weird vibes,” Carlos admitted, nodding discreetly toward the man.

Your eyes flicked toward the man in question. You didn’t hesitate. Turning back to face Carlos you allowed him to hold you. “Stay close,” you instructed, firmly and with no hint of playfulness in your voice.

Carlos opened his mouth to tease, but before he could, the man had moved—pushing through the crowd toward him with alarming speed. In an instant, you'd turned Carlos' hold, blocking his body from the approaching threat. He could hardly believe what happened next.

The man reached out, but before he could lay a hand on Carlos, You'd moved at an impressive speed. Twisting the man’s wrist, using his own momentum against him, sending him crashing to the floor with a thud that made the crowd around them gasp. In seconds, you had the man pinned, screaming in pain, your knee pressed into his back, one hand expertly restraining his arm behind him.

Carlos stood there, dumbfounded.

“Security!” You barked, and within seconds, security rushed over to take the man away. You didn’t even look startled. Standing up, you dusted off your hands, tucked back a strand of hair that had fallen off place, and turned to Carlos, not a bead of sweat or hint of effort on your face.

“We should probably leave,” you said, as if nothing had happened.

Carlos on the other hand was still trying to process what he’d just witnessed. He’d doubted your capabilities, but that display of strength and professionalism had been something else entirely.

“What? How? Where did you learn to do that!?” he asked his tone a mixture of awe and disbelief.

You smirked, just a hint of amusement in your eyes. “Like I said, size isn’t everything.”

For the first time, Carlos felt embarrassed for having underestimated you.

“Right. Point taken." He admitted defeat. "You’re a badass.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised at the sudden compliment. And for the first time, Carlos thought he detected a small blush. “Glad you finally noticed.”

The adrenaline still buzzed in his veins, and he couldn’t help but grin. “You know, you could’ve just told me you were basically superwoman. Would’ve saved me the embarrassment.”

You smirked slightly. “Where’s the fun in that?”

From that moment on, the dynamic shifted. Carlos no longer saw you as just a bodyguard. There was something about the way you carried yourself, that quiet confidence, that intrigued him. And despite the seriousness of your job, there was an undeniable spark between you—an unspoken flirtation that neither could quite ignore.

As you headed back to the hotel, Carlos couldn’t resist teasing you.

“So, you’re not just my bodyguard, you’re my personal guardian angel?”

You side-eyed him. “Don’t push it.”

He chuckled, leaning in closer as you walked.

“I’m just saying, if I ever end up in a fight, I know who I’m hiding behind.” his hand grazed yours.

You scoffed a laugh. “You’re welcome to try.”

There was a comfortable silence as you reached the elevator. Carlos pressed the button for his floor, stealing a glance at you.

“You know, I’ve gotta admit, I didn’t expect this. You’re full of surprises.” He leaned back onto the wall this time shamelessly scanning YOU.

“That’s part of the job.” you shrugged.

“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing what other surprises you’ve got up your sleeve.” his eyes dropped down your body once again.

For the first time, you allowed yourself a small, genuine smile. It was beautiful. “Just don’t get any ideas, Sainz.”

Carlos laughed, his heart skipping a beat at the reaction he caused. “Too late for that.”

You shook your head playfully rolling your eyes.

As you stepped out into the hallway, the air between you was charged with something new—something electric. Carlos realized that this partnership was going to be far more interesting than he’d ever imagined.

You might have been assigned to protect him, but there was no denying that the job had become deeper than intended.

In a world where speed and danger were part of everyday life, Carlos had found something, or rather someone, who could keep up with him. And maybe, you'd be the one to finally slow him down.

#carlos sainz #one shot #carlos sainz x reader #f1 x reader #changetyre #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1fic #formula 1 #bodyguard

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rafecameronssl4t · 10 hours

Note

Ok, question, fem! forced marriage au - how would Rafe react/feel if she brought up ANYTHING about separating, weather that’s flat out divorce or doing it in secret - happy to the public but living in diff spaces/diff lives/maybe even having affairs(?)

Tied bonds || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: don't mind me going off slightly in the beginning when its talking about the legality side of it, i was literally studying trusts and estates law a couple days ago lol

Warnings: angst galore!

Word count: 2,801

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The heavy oak doors of the estate’s study shut behind you with a quiet but resolute thud, isolating you from the rest of the world. The room, with its high ceilings and ornate furnishings, exudes both the security and suffocation of wealth. The scent of polished mahogany and aged leather permeates the air, a sensory reminder of the legacy you're bound to uphold and the responsibilities weighing on your shoulders.

The dim light from the tall windows casts long shadows across the room, making it feel as though the walls themselves are closing in, urging you to act before time runs out. You sit across from your lawyer at the broad mahogany desk. He’s a man in his 50s, with silver-threaded hair and sharp, calculating eyes. His demeanour exudes quiet authority, the kind of calm that comes from handling the complex finances of wealthy families like yours for decades.

A briefcase sits open beside him, documents meticulously laid out in front of you. These aren’t just numbers and figures on a page—they represent your children’s future, your security, and the small corner of independence you’re desperately trying to carve out for yourself. “Now, given the scale of your family’s assets,” your lawyer begins, his voice smooth and professional, “it’s prudent to separate certain accounts. Some in your name, some under irrevocable trusts for the children. This will not only shield them from potential claims but also provide financial protection in the event of....unforeseen circumstances—marital or otherwise.”

You glance down at the papers, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. This was necessary, you remind yourself. You need some semblance of independence, some safeguard for your children. With Rafe’s unpredictable behaviour and the constant pressure from both families, you can’t afford to let everything slip from your control. Your lawyer pulls out another document, sliding it across the desk.

“We’re talking about setting up separate trusts for each of your children. These funds will be distributed to them upon reaching a certain age—18 or 21, depending on your preference. In the meantime, control of the trust can be vested in you alone, ensuring that no one else has access to or influence over these assets, including your husband.”

“And what about Rafe’s side of the family?” you ask, your voice quieter than you intended. “Would they have any legal claim?” The lawyer shakes his head firmly. “No. Not if everything is properly structured. The trusts would be irrevocable, meaning no one—not even your husband—could alter them once established. His family would have no legal right to interfere, regardless of any financial entanglements between the two of you.”

You take a breath, the enormity of it all settling in. This is exactly what you wanted—an impenetrable safeguard. A plan that ensures your children’s future remains under your control, untouched by the unpredictable tides of Rafe’s influence or the demands of your family. “Thank you,” you respond softly, your fingers tracing the edge of the document, the weight of your decision pressing heavily on your chest. “I want everything arranged quietly,” you say softly, your voice carrying the weight of your decision.

“No one else needs to know about this… especially my husband.” The lawyer gives a small, understanding nod. “Discretion is key, as always.” You sign where indicated, feeling a mixture of relief and unease as you watch your name inked onto the page. This is the right thing to do, you remind yourself. For your children, for their future. Yet as you rise from the desk and collect your things, a sense of foreboding lingers.

The heavy oak doors creak open as you step out, and the estate feels impossibly vast around you. Despite the careful planning, you can’t shake the feeling that keeping this from Rafe will lead to complications far greater than you anticipate. With every step you take, the sinking feeling grows. You only hope Rafe doesn’t find out before you’re ready to tell him.

The moment you step through the front door of your home, the tension in the air is palpable. You pause, your coat still in hand, as your eyes land on Rafe. He’s leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, an almost relaxed posture, but the intensity in his gaze betrays any notion of calm. His sharp blue eyes follow your every move, calculating, probing.

"You have a nice little meeting today?" His voice is cold, deceptively casual. But you can hear the edge in it—the suspicion lurking beneath the surface. Your heart skips a beat, anxiety pooling in your chest. Of course, he knows. Rafe always knows. You hang your coat on the rack, avoiding his gaze, trying to maintain some semblance of calm. "I had a few things to take care of. Where are the children?"

You answer nonchalantly, hoping to steer the conversation away from any confrontation. "With Astoria, they wanted to play with their cousins," Rafe answers, his gaze sharp as he pushes off the doorframe, taking a slow, deliberate step toward you, his presence overwhelming as always. "Answer my question," His tone hardens, suspicion fully creeping into his voice now. "I know you met with your lawyer. What are you up to?"

Your pulse quickens as you hold Rafe’s gaze, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. He’s already jumping to conclusions, constructing a narrative that fits his fears. You knew this confrontation was inevitable, but the reality of it still unsettles you, the tension in the room thick and suffocating. "It’s nothing that concerns you," you respond, keeping your tone as even as possible, despite the way your nerves fray under his scrutiny. "Just some family matters."

Rafe scoffs, the sound harsh and filled with disbelief. His jaw clenches as he steps even closer, his towering figure casting a shadow over you, blocking any hope of retreat. His presence is overbearing, the heat of his anger palpable in the air between you. "Family matters?" His voice is dripping with accusation, dark and biting. "Don’t play games with me. I heard enough to know this wasn’t just about your parents or your siblings."

His words cut deeper as his tone drops, low and dangerous. "You’re setting up trust funds. Inheritance management. Without telling me. What the hell are you planning?" His words slam into you, twisting your stomach in knots. His paranoia, the sharpness of his accusations, stings in a way you hadn’t fully prepared for. Of course, you knew he’d react like this, but hearing it out loud—his anger, his distrust—it’s worse than you imagined. You steady your breath, trying to keep your composure.

"It’s for the children, Rafe," you say, your voice soft but firm, though the tightness in your chest makes it difficult to breathe. "I want to make sure they’re taken care of, no matter what happens. That’s all this is." But even as you say it, you can see the suspicion lingering in his eyes, the doubt still gnawing at him, twisting this simple act of protection into something more sinister in his mind.

Rafe glares at you, his eyes dark and intense as they search your face for the slightest hint of deception. His presence feels overwhelming as he steps even closer, the space between you disappearing in an instant. Without breaking eye contact, his hand moves down deliberately, resting on the swell of your belly where your third child grows. His touch, firm and possessive, sends a chill through you.

"You don’t trust me with that?" His voice is low, almost a growl, laced with an edge of disbelief and wounded pride. "You think I wouldn’t look out for my own kids?" His words sting, but it's the subtle accusation in his tone that cuts deeper, as if he can’t comprehend why you would feel the need to act independently. Your frustration bubbles to the surface despite your best efforts to remain calm, your emotions swirling between anger and exhaustion.

"That’s not what this is about," you snap, your voice sharp as the tension between you flares. You're trying to hold it together, but the weight of his misunderstanding—of him always assuming the worst—pushes you to the brink. "I’m doing this to protect them. To protect us. You can’t control everything, Rafe." For a split second, something flickers in his eyes—hurt, maybe—but it vanishes quickly, replaced by his usual defensiveness. He steps closer, his voice lowering, cold and accusatory.

"You’re doing all of this behind my back," he growls. "And I’m supposed to believe it’s just for the kids? You don’t set up secret meetings with lawyers for something as simple as trust funds. It looks more like you’re preparing for something else. Like maybe you’re planning to escape this all." His breath is hot against your ear now, the venom in his words unmistakable. "Is that it? Are you getting ready to leave me?"

His accusation hits you hard, knocking the air from your lungs. The vulnerability behind it cuts deeper than you expected. It’s not just anger simmering in his voice—there’s fear too, buried beneath the suspicion, fear of losing control, of you slipping away. His jaw tightens, but his hand remains firmly pressed against the swell of your stomach, as if anchoring himself to you, to the life you’re carrying.

“And have our children without their father?” you ask, your voice sharp. There’s a flicker of something more beneath the surface—hurt, uncertainty. His eyes search yours, almost pleading. You blink, stunned by the weight of your own question. “Rafe…” you begin, your voice barely a whisper, incredulity lacing your words as you try to make sense of what you’ve just implied. “I’m not leaving you.”

The tension in the room feels suffocating, as if the walls themselves are closing in. You take a breath, steadying yourself, as you step closer, your gaze softening despite the frustration swirling inside you. "This isn’t about that,” you say gently, trying to reach him through the haze of his suspicions. “But I need some control over my life, Rafe. Some protection.” Your voice wavers slightly, but you press on. “I’m not just here to be controlled or managed. I need to know that I’m not just a piece in this game.”

You can feel his breath against your skin, heavy with unspoken fears, and for a brief moment, the façade of his strength cracks. The fear of losing control, of losing you, is palpable, and it clings to the space between you like a storm cloud ready to burst. He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, pacing in frustration. "Control. Protection," he mutters under his breath, his movements sharp and agitated. "You think I’m the threat here? You think I wouldn’t protect you? Protect our family?"

You shake your head, stepping back slightly, trying to maintain some distance from the intensity of his emotions. "I never said that," you say, your voice softer now, trying to calm him. "But this is something I need to do. For me. For them." For a long moment, the two of you stand there, locked in a silent standoff. His breathing is heavy, and the anger in his eyes slowly shifts into something else—something more conflicted. He turns away from you, pacing a few steps before running his hands through his hair again.

"This isn’t how marriages are supposed to work," Rafe mutters, more to himself than to you. The words cut deep, piercing through the fragile layer of calm you’ve been clinging to. It’s a painful reminder of what your marriage has become—what it’s always been. The expectations, the compromises, the strain. This life… it’s not what either of you envisioned. You feel the urge to retort, to let loose the frustrations that have built up over the years, but you bite your tongue. Now isn’t the time for that argument.

"I know," you whisper, though you’re not sure if he hears you. The admission feels hollow in the tense silence that follows, the weight of your reality pressing down on both of you. The room feels unbearably heavy, the air thick with unsaid words. Rafe exhales, his broad shoulders sagging ever so slightly, as though some of the fire inside him has been extinguished. He turns his back to you, the physical distance a reflection of the emotional chasm that has been growing between you both.

For a brief moment, you consider stepping closer, reaching out, bridging that gap—but the weight of your decision, of everything you’ve been trying to secure for yourself and the children, holds you back. It’s a boundary you can’t afford to cross right now. "You should’ve told me," he finally says, his voice quieter, but still taut with lingering tension. There’s hurt there, beneath the anger, beneath his instinct to control everything around him.

Your throat tightens at his words, the soft accusation lingering in the space between you. "I didn’t want this to turn into a fight," you admit, your own voice subdued, drained from the confrontation. The fatigue in your bones echoes in your tone. "I just needed to make sure everything was in place. For the kids, for their future." You pause, the weight of your decisions settling on your chest. "I wasn’t trying to hide it from you."

Rafe turns back to face you, his expression a mixture of frustration, hurt, and something more vulnerable—something he rarely lets show. "It feels like you were," he mutters, the edge of accusation still present, though softer now. His blue eyes search yours, looking for answers, reassurance, something to ease the fear behind his suspicion. You hold his gaze, trying to convey the truth behind your words. "I need to feel like I have some control, Rafe," you say gently, your voice steady but laced with an underlying sadness.

"Our lives… they’re not easy. And I know you want to protect us, but I need to protect them too. In my own way." Your heart beats heavily in your chest, each word an attempt to bridge the gap between you, a gap that seems to widen with every conflict. Rafe’s gaze lingers on you, the tension between you both crackling in the air. You take a tentative step forward, closing the physical distance between you, hoping it will ease the emotional one. Just as you stop inches from him, his expression softens slightly.

He reaches for your hand, his grip firm yet tender, and before you can say anything, he brings it up to his lips. The moment feels suspended in time as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. It’s a gesture so gentle, so unlike the earlier confrontation, that it catches you off guard. The vulnerability in his eyes flickers, almost as if he’s silently asking for forgiveness or offering an unspoken truce.

You feel your heart ache, the gesture disarming you in a way his words couldn’t. It’s as though this kiss is his way of telling you that, despite his anger, despite his suspicions, there’s something deeper binding you together—a love neither of you can deny, even in moments like this. “I’m not the enemy, Y/n,” he repeats softly, his voice rough but sincere, the earlier accusation tempered by this quiet moment.

His lips linger on your skin for just a second longer before he lowers your hand, though he doesn’t let go. You swallow hard, your chest tight with emotion, your voice a whisper as you respond. "I know you're not." The air between you feels different now—quieter, softer, though still tinged with the weight of everything unresolved. For that fleeting moment, it feels as though the two of you are in sync again, even if just barely.

Rafe’s hand remains wrapped around yours, and though the tension between you hasn’t fully dissipated, it’s no longer suffocating. The kiss to your knuckles feels like a promise, fragile but meaningful. As he finally lets go and turns away, you watch him disappear down the hallway, the memory of his lips on your skin lingering long after he's gone. The weight of your choices still presses down on you, but somehow, in that brief exchange, it feels a little lighter.

You know this isn’t over. Rafe’s suspicions won’t vanish overnight, and your need for autonomy remains unresolved. But for now, the confrontation is over. The weight of your decisions, the strain on your already fragile relationship, presses down on you like a heavy cloak. You did the right thing, you remind yourself. This is about protecting your children, about securing a future for them. For now, all you can do is hope that, in time, he’ll come to understand why you did this. Why you needed to.

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alphajocklover · 1 day

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InstaJock: Going Viral

**Hey! This is my entry for @occamstfs Viral Transformation Challenge. Congrats on getting 2,000 followers, and thank you for beta reading this and helping me edit it. I hope I can get to 2,000 followers myself one day! For those who are new to my stories, this does connect to the plot established in my blog, but the concept is simple enough you should be able to follow along even if you don't usually read my stuff! I hope you all enjoy!**

When I talk about the InstaJock App Phenomenon – which I seem to do a lot. What is this, the 17th InstaJock related post? I need to diversify more – I usually talk about the transformation aspects and not the app itself. That’s partially because the transformation is the most interesting and hottest part, but it’s also because I haven’t been able to take a good look at the app. Even with all the protective spells and equipment I have, I can’t use a phone with InstaJock on it for very long without getting an urge to set up an account.

Until now.

With some help from the devilishly handsome (and literally devilish) Nick, I’ve been able to get my hands on some better equipment and better explore the app. I was able to spend a couple hours on it before I needed to quit, and actually got some very interesting information, mainly about how the app works post-transformation. I had always assumed that once a user got transformed into a jock, they’d ignore the app from then on unless they wanted to change someone. I was very, very wrong, not just about that but about the purpose of the app itself. It’s not just for making people into jocks: it’s for finding the best ones.

The app generally works like any other social media app, with its members posting about their interests. It’s set up is a lot like Instagram, where pictures and videos are the main format used for posting, but what really makes it different from other social media apps is the content. You can probably guess what an app full of buff cocky jocks looks like, but I’ll confirm it for you: the app is a thirst trap paradise.

The entire app is stuffed with half naked – and sometimes fully naked – photos of buff jocks, ones of all different kinds. If you can think up a jock related stereotype, they have a full hashtag dedicated to it. Just buff jocks playing sports, flexing and making out with other hot people, for as far. I know that doesn’t sound too different from normal social media apps, as most have a healthy NSFW side, but the posts have more in common then just showing jocks. Each and every post, every one that I saw, mentioned a Master. Some were talking about how they were getting pumped up at the gym for Master, some were talking about how they loved being jocks and were so glad Master had found them, and some were literally begging for Master to notice them, often wantonly describing how they’d debase themselves and be the sluttiest jock ever, all for him. Everyone on the app would post at least once a day about this mysterious Master. It doesn’t seem to matter if the jock is a dom, a sub, a top, a bottom, in a relationship, single, gay or even straight, all of them wanted this mysterious unnamed master – so much so they seemed to completely change personalities whenever he is mentioned. It seems instaJock has an additional side effect I didn’t know about till now: complete and utter devotion to their Master.

It took me a while, and some covert interviewing of a number of jocks in their DMs, but I think I figured out what's happening. The Jocks aren’t just posting for fun, they’re competing with each other. InstaJock isn’t really a social media app, it’s a sort of ranking app. Every day the jocks log on, post a picture of themselves with a caption somehow related to their Master, and leave likes on some of the other posts, usually the ones they find hot. If a jock’s post gets enough likes though, they get what every jock wants, what all of them are trying to get. They get to Go Viral.

Going Viral on IntsaJock isn’t like going viral on a regular app. It essentially means you’ve gotten enough likes, been reposted enough times, and have become popular enough on the site… that Master has noticed you. That's what the social media part of the app is really for. It’s just a way for Master’s jocks to organize themselves so only the hottest ones show up on his feed. If he really likes you, he’ll do more than just look too. Soon that Jock will disappear from his regular life, never to be seen again, whisked away to become a part of Master’s personal harem. This entire time the app has been about one thing: creating lovestruck sex slaves for the man who created InstaJock.

Like most actual social media apps, InstaJock jumps from one thing to another, and what's viral is always changing. But there are two tags that are always trending on InstaJock. The first, and most popular, is #JockMaster, which is only ever used by this mysterious Master when he makes a post. I’ve seen his account. He never shows his face on it, but from what little of his body that makes it into the photos, he’s… enchanting. As much as I hate to admit it, seeing just a bit of that creep almost made me drool. He usually only posts a couple times a week, as opposed to the jock who posts daily, but everything he posts goes viral on the app in moments. I’ll admit, there's something about his posts that is just… hypnotic. I almost set up an account after seeing one myself, and probably would have if Nick wasn’t there to stop me.

The other tag that's always trending is… more interesting, at least to me. It’s #MastersBoyfriend. It’s another tag used only by Master, and one he uses whenever he posts a picture of one particular member of his harem.

Whenever he posts pictures… of my Uncle John.

I finally know who took my Uncle. I know who this Master is. I suspected it was him for a while, but now I’m sure. The man who made InstaJock and the man who turned my Uncle into a slutty buff himbo are one in the same. I finally have proof.

So now what?

**The identity of the person behind InstaJock AND the person behind my Uncle's transformation and kidnapping has finally been revealed! Been working up to this for a long time, and I'm glad to keep this story moving forward! Hope you liked it as much as I do! Thank you to @occamstfs once again for being absolutely awesome and inspiring!**

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #nerd to jock #instajock tf #occam2000 #The Master TF

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evilgwrl · 3 days

Note

hey sunshine 🥰 could you possibly do the 141 with a hyper independent reader? id love to see how they handle a s/o like this!! if not, i totally understand 💜💜 enjoy your sunday

Ofc!! I hope this is what you were looking for, I'm not the most educated on hyper-independence but I tried to do a lil research <3 Sorry it took me so long to write it, I've been having a hectic week

Your feet strummed against the floor; body restless as you looked at the flock of emails piling up. Fidgety hands were tugging at your hair as you looked at the time. Your laptop shut with a huff as you walked into the kitchen, eager to eat as your stomach grumbled.

There was a soft shell of steam covering the room, food broiling in the oven as you turned your attention to the chopping board. You swore quickly, the smell of burning sauce catching your attention as you turned to quickly stir it. Your body swayed back and forth, constantly focusing on something new as you struggled to keep up.

You had a strict schedule, always needing to be on top of everything. You enjoyed the smiles on the boy’s faces when they came through the door to a cooked meal. It was different today, however. Work had finished later than usual, pushing your activity back as the boys walked through the door.

“Hey, bonnie,” Soap flattered, pressing a kiss to your head as he looked at the kitchen, every saucer in use.

“Hi,” you smiled, swatting his hands away as he attempted to stir something.

“Smells good, love,” John cooed, husky breath against your neck as he hugged you from behind.

“I’ll set up the dining table,” Kyle chirped as you quickly yelped at a ‘no’.

“No, no. I’ve got it. Just go sit down. It’s nearly done.”

Simon raised a brow, taking in your quick no. They knew you enjoyed working alone, it just seemed easier for you, but the scene before him was overwhelming to look at as you rubbed at your forehead, pulling something out of the oven.

“We’re happy to help, sweet’art, just let-“

“No, no, I promise its fine. Please just go sit down.”

You were consistent as you shushed them out of the kitchen with a handtowel, turning your attention back to the scene in front of you. Soap frowned as he sat down, resting his chin in his hand.

“She’s gonna work ‘erself to death,” Simon scowled, concerned.

“You know how she is, she’s independent,” Gaz quipped, rubbing a brow.

You were a flurry, piling food onto the plates before they grew cold. You were quick to place all their plates down and hurry back, grabbing a stack of cutlery and cups, the glass pile slightly tipped. John raised from his seat to assist you as you pulled back, offering him a gentle smile.

“Let me help, dove.”

“I’ve got it, I don’t need help,” you spoke quickly as you moved too fast, the glasses tipping over as they clattered against the floor, shards of crystal collecting at your feet as you hissed, the four men surrounding you quickly raising to their feet.

Your legs padded against the floor as you hurried to the kitchen to grab a dustpan from under the sink, Soap quickly in toe. It was overwhelming as they crowded around you, trying to grab the scoop from your fidgety hands before you snapped, “I don’t need your help, just eat your food.”

Your tone was harsh as they stilled, staring at you with concern. Your face felt hot, unshed tears welling in your eyes at the situation. The glass collected in the black box, flickers of shimmer dancing off the sharp shards as you grabbed your own plate, heading to your bedroom.

You weren’t sure where it came from, the need to never ask for help but it ate at you until your body was scolding with overworked heat. The night ticked by slowly as you cooped yourself up in the warmth of your sheets, only getting up to clean as you walked to the kitchen, no mess in sight.

“I hope you don’t mind that we cleaned up, figured you had done enough for us today,” Price’s voice was soft, a glide of comfort slipping from his tongue as he placed his hand’s on his hips.

“I could’ve done it.”

“I know, we all know. But we’re here too, love. It’s not fair for you to take on every load of responsibility. You deserve help. We’re not going anywhere, and we want to show you that we appreciate you too.”

The words settled in your chest as you stared at him, placing the plate in the sink as you offered him a polite glance, attempting to wrap around everything he was saying.

“Thank you,” you said, eyes low as you began to wash. The tickle of hair was felt around your waist, along with two arms as Kyle pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your neck.

“We want to help you, love. You don’t need to go through anything alone, we’re here to support you the way you support us.”

You swallowed deeply.

“We don’t want to overwhelm you either, we just want our girl to feel the best she can,” Price spoke.

It was harder for you to talk about your feelings, your heart chained in between your rib cage, the need to ask for help always at the tip of your tongue but never able to leave, keeping you prisoner to your own despair. The boys left you for a little bit, asking you to join them in the living room when you were ready. There was a gentle pit of anxiety in your stomach as you huffed, ensuring everything had been done before you joined them.

It was a sweet sight to walk into. They were spread on the couch, reassuring smiles on their faces as Soap held his hands out towards the table, a chocolate cake decorated with the words ‘Thank you’ on it along with a bouquet of pink peonies.

You laughed, “When did you have time to get all this?”

“I’m quick,” Ghost beamed, tapping the spot between them as you huddled over.

“Thank you,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks. It was hard for you to comprehend you had people wanting to help you, and you knew they would never be able to understand what it was like for you, but they tried their hardest, and that was the greatest gift you could ask for.

“Can I eat some cake now?” Soap chorused as you laughed, rubbing the back of his head before nestling into Kyle.

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megalony · 2 days

Text

I Trust You

This is my newest Dark! Buck imagine, I hope you will all like this one and thank you @missdreamofendless for going through ideas with me for this one.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: After meeting (Y/n) and her baby out on a call, Evan quickly finds himself falling for her and attaching himself to her. She's all he can think about. And she will be his.

Enjoy.

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

A deep sigh rumbled past Evan's lips when he hopped down from the truck. This looked like it was going to take a while.

He squinted up at the building in front of them, trying to think and get a layout of the hospital in his mind to figure out which part of the building was on fire.

Evan had never been to a hospital fire before. He had never known a hospital in this area have a fire or have one that was catastrophic enough to cause a full evacuation like this. The 118 hadn't been here at the beginning of the fire, they seemed to have turned up right in the middle of things like they were the last ones to arrive to a party.

This meant full gear. Evan set about zipping up his overall jacket and found his helmet in one of the compartments. He stuck it on his head, fished around for his gloves and strapped them tight around his wrists. Once on, he found his mask in its dusty orange bag and strapped it around his waist. They didn't know how much smoke they would run into up there and when Bobby gave them all a look, they all nodded.

Evan could feel his shoulders slumping as he helped Hen hand out the oxygen tanks to their team.

Smoke and fire meant all the oxygen would be sucked in to feed the flames. They had to be able to breathe in order to evacuate the patients. The tank weighed heavy on Evan's back right between his shoulders, but it was a weight he was used to and not nearly as heavy as the ones he trained with down at the gym. He just knew that the extra weight and effort was going to make him sweat more profusely in that sauna of a hospital.

Fully suited, Evan clicked his neck into place and stood in line with the rest of the team, waiting patiently for Bobby to confer with the 106 who had gotten here first. They needed to know where they were needed and what they were going to be doing.

"Alright, Chim they need an extra set of hands assessing the ICU patients and getting them transported. Hen, you and me will go up to the third floor, there are a few patients they're struggling to transport with all the equipment."

Both of them nodded and Chimney jogged over to the tent set up outside where they were trying to sort out who was most in need of transportation. Nearby hospitals were taking in anyone they would who needed special monitoring or dialysis or life support.

"Eddie, Buck, there's still people on the second floor in the maternity wing who aren't evacuated so go there and make sure that ward is clear please."

"Copy."

Evan took the lead. He knew where he was going, he had been in the hospital enough times to know where the wards were located and he knew the maternity ward was near the front. He steered towards the left and over to the 106 truck that was conveniently moving their ladder towards the front windows to help get their teams in and patients out.

"Can you get us up to the second floor?" Evan pointed at the ladder and when the guy whose helmet read Taron nodded, he and Eddie climbed up on the top of the truck.

There was no time and no need to clip a harness onto the ladder when they could just run up and get in. The ladder was safe enough and they didn't have time to mess around here.

Evan was glad when he got to the top of the ladder that he didn't have to break the window. It was open on a latch, so all he had to do was wiggle his fingers, undo the latch and shimmy the window up as high as it would go. He briefly took off his helmet so he could shimmy through the window before he plonked it back on his head and looked around.

"Where'd you wanna start?"

"Fire's towards the left part of the building, there should be an exit across at the back. Start left and loop around?" Evan pointed to the door on his left that would lead them into the corridor.

It seemed safest to head nearest the fire and make sure no one was in peril, then they could loop around, clear the floor and get out.

"Sure," Eddie tapped his helmet to make sure it was in place but when they headed out the room, his eyes narrowed and he looked up at his best friend. "You holdin' out on me or something?"

How did Evan know his way around the hospital so well, especially the maternity ward?

"Nothing so exciting. I've got a good memory, from visiting Mads and Jee."

He steered to the left and headed down a long corridor, both of them peering into each room they passed. They had to get everyone out, smoke was already starting to clog up the halls and seep through the vents. They didn't want to be in here long.

When Eddie peered down a corridor on the right, he placed his hand down on Evan's shoulder and pulled him back in that direction.

There were two women and two nurses heading their way, hurrying as fast as they could down the corridor.

"All of you, this way and down the back exit there will be people outside to take you somewhere safe." Eddie waved his hands and guided them towards him, showing them the back stairs which weren't yet consumed by the flames or drastic smoke following them like a shadow.

They found another three mothers, all with their own newborns in their arms, and Eddie turned and guided them back down to the stairs while Evan carried on. They only had a few more rooms to clear and then they could check the neonatal rooms and get out of here.

Just as Evan went to open one of the doors on his right, he took a step back when it was yanked open like a force of nature. He stumbled on his back foot, eyes wide and lips parted.

The girl stood in front of him displayed the same shock that was written across his face. They hadn't expect the other to be there.

She was stunning.

Evan wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline coursing through his system, the smoke he had started to inhale or just the rush of emotions in this situation. But he couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

The way the loose tendrils of hair fell down her face made her look positively angelic. Her doe eyes were wide and round and her pupils took over almost the whole expanse of her eyes. Those plump, parted lips were heart shaped and made Evan want to lean closer and taste them.

Her hands were gripping the door, clinging to it like she was trying to prop herself up and the way she was slightly stooped forward made Evan trail his eyes up and down her frame.

She had already had her baby. A lot of the rooms in this ward were mixed, some women had given birth, others were under observation and some were in labour. He guessed all those in labour had been escorted out first, they would have been priority to be taken to the nearest hospital.

And by the way she was leaning forwards, Evan wondered if she had gone through a C-section.

He noted that she was wearing pyjamas. A thin, light blue top with thin spaghetti straps over her shoulders and matching, baggy pyjama bottoms.

"Come with me, we're evacuating all the wards in this wing. I'll take you outside." He reached his hand out for her elbow and gently tried to coax her forward, but her eyes were rapidly scanning the corridor. "Miss-"

"I- my baby, I have to get her." Both her hands clutched Evan's arm so tightly she had him shaking along with her.

She tried to turn him around and drag him in the opposite direction towards the neonatal unit.

(Y/n) couldn't go and just leave her baby. She was two days old. She had to go and make sure someone had taken her and if not, she had to get her baby and get out. There was no way she could leave the hospital and go outside to safety if she didn't know whether her baby would be there or not. She couldn't leave Rory here in peril.

When she desperately pulled on his arm, Evan moved. He looped his right arm around her back and let her keep hold of his left hand. He tilted his head down, taking note of the nametag strapped around her wrist and he tried to rub his gloved hand up and down her back.

Something about the way she slotted into place in his arms almost made Evan smile. He felt like he'd seen her before, there was something about her that captivated him completely and Evan wanted nothing more than to keep her in his arms and escort her downstairs himself.

"(Y/n)," Her name felt like sugar on his lips and her eyes held his full attention when she stopped struggling and looked up at him. "I need you to go out to safety. You go with my partner, and I'll go make sure no baby isn't still here. Chances are she's already outside waiting for you."

When Evan caught sight of Eddie coming back from the stairwell, he slowly turned (Y/n) around so they were facing the right way.

He had to make sure the ward was clear anyway, and he couldn't allow her to come searching with him when she was a patient and needed to be looked after. If the fire got worse, Evan had a gas mask and an oxygen tank and protective clothing, (Y/n) didn't.

The tight grip she had on his hand made him step closer to her and the desperation in his eyes drew her in. He didn't want to let go of her. He didn't want to hand her over to Eddie, as if she was a friend Evan didn't want to share or part with.

Her voice sounded like a song, serenading him and her words struck his heart and rattled down to his core.

"Please- she- she's all I've got-"

"Hey, I'm going to get her and bring her right back to you, okay? Don't worry, you go wait outside."

When Evan nodded at Eddie, he begrudgingly unravelled his arms from her and let Eddie take her arm instead.

He made sure to note the last name written on her wristband before he disappeared down the corridor to the last place he hadn't evacuated yet. He burst through the doors of the first room, the neonatal room compact with incubators and equipment and heaters and oxygen masks and all the smaller instruments specifically for premature babies.

All had been evacuated. That was good. The most fragile patients had been escorted out of here.

Evan could feel the heat following him like he was a thief in the night and the heat was licking the back of his neck and smothering his jacket. He pushed ahead towards the last room in this ward where the healthy newborns were looked after.

To his surprise, there was one nurse left, one babe in each arm and her head instantly ticked to the cradle behind the door Evan had burst through. "These are the last ones, everyone should be out by now." The nurse sounded relieved but her expression was panicked.

There were no more babies to be evacuated and now that Evan and Eddie had evacuated all the other patients, they were all in the clear.

He nodded and spun around, suddenly glad that the hospital put wristbands on each child as soon as possible. He couldn't imagine not knowing which child was which or leaving with two and getting them mixed up. What a horror that would cause.

When he looked down at the cradle, something surged through his heart. He didn't need to read the wristband on the child's arm that was waving back and forth as they wailed, clearly petrified. He could see the name written on the chart on the side of the cradle.

The last name stuck out first. This was (Y/n)'s baby. This was the little one she had been trying to get to, the one Evan promised to find. And when he looked at her first name, his lips quirked.

Aurora.

Fitting. Such a lovely name for a little girl that reminded Evan of a princess.

His gloved hands shook as he carefully reached down for her and slowly eased her into his chest. He knew his jacket wouldn't be the comfiest, it would be itchy against her soft, tender skin but they didn't have much of a choice right now.

The moment she was in the crook of his elbow, her cries ceased almost immediately. She switched to whimpers and wriggling around and when Evan cooed and rocked her as he turned around, it was like magic.

He tucked her blanket a bit higher so it was draped over her neck and very loosely over her mouth. Just in case the smoke followed them in here.

He whispered a soft "It's okay, I've got you." and held her higher to his chest as he moved towards the window. He knew the layout of this place, this room was facing the chaos outside. He could get the truck to move the ladder over to them and get them out quicker. He didn't want to risk going back down the stairs when the fire was still spreading.

It didn't take long to open the window, wave his hand and wait for the truck to tilt the ladder a few degrees to the left to reach them.

"Here's our ride." He held his free hand out to the nurse and took one of the newborns so she could climb over the legs and carefully stand on the ladder. Once she had both back in her arms, she started her descent and Evan cast his eyes down to Aurora in his arms.

He couldn't look away from her as he swung his legs over the window frame and climbed onto the ladder.

His gloved hand cradled hers, his thumb stroked over the back of her hand and he rocked her up and down while he steadily walked down the ladder. He was more careful than he usually would have been when he climbed down from the truck and got back onto solid ground.

He wouldn't let anything happen to the girl in his arms.

"You're okay, you're okay." He cooed as he lifted her higher against his chest and looked around the scene.

He didn't want to let her go.

What would happen if he held her for just a while longer? Would anyone stop him? Would someone take her from him? What if he couldn't find (Y/n) again? Possibilities ran through his head until his eyes lifted and he looked ahead to where one of the tents was set up in the middle of the foyer.

There she was.

He wasn't too sure where Eddie was, maybe he had been roped into getting the last part of the fire under control. Maybe he was getting patients to an ambulance for transporting, Evan wasn't sure, and suddenly he didn't care. All he cared about was watching that captivating girl hurry towards him as fast as she could in her state.

She had one arm tightly bound around her abdomen, making Evan sure that she was recovering from a C-section. Her eyes were looking at him as if she had tunnel vision, as if Evan was the only thing she could see. The only person worth looking at.

He could see the desperation in her eyes and the panic written across her face and when he glanced down, he realised she wasn't even wearing socks. She was barefoot, aiming for him to see if he had her baby.

"Is- Is it Rory?"

He was about to say no until it clicked a second later that Rory was short for Aurora. He liked that. He really liked that name.

"I've got her, she's fine."

It made something twinge in his chest like a muscle had snapped when he lowered the newborn down into her mother's arms. It was fascinating that (Y/n) didn't have to check the nametag on the newborn's wrist to know that this was her baby. Instinct must have taken over, unless she simply took Evan's word as gospel that this was indeed her child.

He could see the relief pooling in her eyes and she looked so thankful that she could have fainted and collapsed there on the spot. She held Rory close to her chest, dragging her thumb over the back of her soft head that she started to kiss. But her eyes looked up to stare at the fireman who had helped them.

She read the name on his helmet.

Buckley. 118.

She wasn't going to forget that in a hurry. (Y/n) would bear that name in mind, she was going to have to thank him for this.

"Can I take you to a medic, to make sure you're both okay?" Evan dared to rest his hand on her lower back and took a step closer until their sides were touching and he had to look down to see her face properly.

She nodded and he was spurred on when she didn't pull away or create some space between them. He motioned his other hand out in front of them and slowly started to guide them towards a paramedic he could see in the distance. They both needed to be checked out before they were taken somewhere to wait for transport to a different hospital for the remainder of their stay.

His eyes found their way back to (Y/n) when she lifted her head up and he saw a smile forming on her lips.

Her smile was beautiful. He wanted to keep that smile in his memory. He wanted to gaze on that smile and be the reason she smiled. He wanted to keep that smile for himself and be the one and only reason she sparkled as brightly as that.

"You're a real hero, you know that?" She sounded breathless and he could see she was subtly shaking, but her words were enough to spark a fire igniting throughout Evan's system.

He liked the sound of that.

He had never been a hero to anyone before. He had failed in trying to save Daniel, and that meant he would never be good enough in his parent's eyes. He had never done anything to warrant being a hero to Maddie. He had been there after she got away from Doug, but he never did anything to actually save her, not like he wanted to.

He hadn't been a hero to any of his past girlfriends and that had been okay, he didn't have anything to prove to them or a desire to be heroic for them.

But hearing (Y/n) say that, seeing her look at him like that, it sparked something to life in his chest and made his heart swell and his head rattle with ideas and thoughts and images of a future that he wanted. He liked the thought of being a hero to her. He liked the thought of being there when she needed him, of being the one to help her.

Curiosity dwelled in his eyes along with a spark that started to form. Maybe she needed a hero. Maybe (Y/n) was someone who needed saving.

Evan could do that. He could save her. He could be there and help her, he could definitely see himself trying to help her and the beautiful little bundle in her arms.

And as he stared down at the pair of them, he couldn't get that thought to leave his mind.

***

Something sparked in Evan's eyes when he looked dead ahead of him. He could feel all the blood rushing to his stomach, fluttering along with adrenaline and a sense of hope that was growing wings and trying to take flight.

She was here.

The girl. The one he had been thinking, imagining and dreaming about for the last week. The girl he had saved from the hospital, she was walking right through those station doors.

He knew it!

He knew, Evan just knew if he bided his time, he would run into her sooner or later. But oh, had it been hard. He found it so hard to stay focused at work, to go home each night and try to find a way to get her off his mind. Nothing worked. Going to the gym didn't help when she still plagued his thoughts and he couldn't push through the barrier she created. He couldn't find the attention span to watch movies after work.

He didn't want to go out for drinks with any of the team, and when some of the women on calls tried to flirt with him, Evan felt angered. They weren't her; they weren't (Y/n).

But now she was here. It just proved that Evan knew deep down it would work out. He knew he would bump into her again at some point, and it had only taken a week for her to walk into his station.

Evan didn't have to resort to hanging around where she lived- the address which he had found on her file that he checked back at the hospital fire when patients were being transported to different hospitals. He didn't have to wait around where she lived and try to catch another glimpse of her and create a casual meet.

He didn't have to go looking for her to stop her from haunting his every waking moment, because here she was, walking into his station like this was where she belonged all along.

Evan tossed down the cloth in his hand, rolled his eleeves up to his elbows and jogged ahead between the fire trucks. He wanted to make sure no one else got to her first. He wanted- no, he needed to be the one to talk to her, to find out why she was here. To find out if she was here to see him.

She looked lovely. Hair swept back out of her face, teeth sunk down into her bottom lip that looked like an anxious habit to Evan. She was wearing jeans and a pale turquoise shirt that cut a bit low down the front and had ruffles around the shoulders.

His eyes cast down to the pram she was pushing. She had brought Aurora down to the station.

"(Y/n), hi."

She paused when Evan approached and his heart ignited when he saw the way her lips curved into a beautiful grin that flashed her teeth and creased her eyes.

"Buckley… so I am at the right place." Her voice was so soothing, no hint of panic or torment like the first time they spoke. No panic written across her face and no anguish building up in her heart.

He saw the way she cast her eyes up and down his frame as he stepped closer and tucked his hands into his pockets. He couldn't help but look down into the pram, and his smile widened when he looked at the newborn tucked up beneath a blanket. She was sleeping, she looked very settled and calm and he loved that the beige hat she wore had a Mickey Mouse silhouette sewn into the centre.

"Call me Evan. What can we do for you? Are you both okay?" When Evan moved one hand from his pocket and motioned to the pram, he waited until (Y/n) nodded to reach down. He brushed his finger along Aurora's cheek, loving the way she seemed to lean into his touch like she knew exactly who he was and that he was someone she wanted to be around.

"We're fine, thanks to you. I came to say thank you, properly, for helping us last week."

Reaching down beneath the pram, (Y/n) found the tuppaware box and gingerly held it out to Evan. She tried not to blush or let heat rise to her skin when she saw the way he grinned as he took the box from her. It wasn't much, but she knew baked goods were always welcomed and she wasn't quite sure how else to say thank you. Other than to come down in person to show her gratitude and hand over some cookies.

"Thank you." Evan was already opening the box and diving in to try a cookie and he hummed when he bit into one. "You didn't have to, you know. It's all part of the job."

"It's not everyday a hospital has a fire, or that someone goes back in to get your baby for you. Thanks is the least I could do."

This may be an everyday thing for him, but not for (Y/n). She hadn't gone into the hospital expecting a mass fire to break out. She didn't expect to be evacuated or to have someone rush back inside to make sure her daughter wasn't still in there and get her out safe. She didn't dare think what would of happened if he hadn't of been there at that exact moment, to help her.

"So, she's doing okay?" His eyes cast down to the pram when he finished the cookie and tucked the box under one arm so he didn't drop it.

Part of him wanted to reach in and pick her up. She had seemed very settled when he held her last week at the hospital. He wanted to see if she would still settle with him. He wanted to cuddle her and see how she might attach herself to him, to see if she would remember who he was.

"Yeah, she's doing great. Keeping me awake at night, but that's what I signed up for."

"Just you two?" Evan spoke before he could stop himself and despite how quiet his voice came out, he knew (Y/n) heard him. He diverted his eyes down to the pram, brushing Aurora's cheek once again as she started to wriggle. But the quiet hum (Y/n) gave out handed him his answer.

Just her and her girl. They had each other, and that was all they needed.

"Hey, what're you doing here?"

Evan snapped his head up to look over at Bobby when the Captain trotted down the stairs from the kitchen and made a beeline their way. The sight of him walking forward had Evan's brows furrowing and he tilted his head to one side in uncertainty.

"Just stopped by to say thanks to your team, for being so lovely during the hospital evacuation last week."

The smile that flooded (Y/n)'s face when she looked up at Bobby had a slither of jealousy creeping up the back of Evan's spine and surging through his chest. How did she know Bobby? Why was she smiling like that at him? Hadn't she come here to see Evan, not the Captain?

He watched Bobby loop an arm around (Y/n)'s waist and reel her in for a hug, and he did his best to hide his grimace as he watched them. And he swallowed down a grumble when Bobby kissed the top of (Y/n)'s head and gave her a squeeze.

"Oh really? Stick around for a coffee, see the rest of the team." Bobby spoke into the top of (Y/n)'s hair and when he finally parted from her, he patted Evan's shoulder and leaned around him to look into the pram at Aurora. He had a few things to take care of, but he would make time for a coffee if (Y/n) stuck around for a while.

Bobby seemed to smile wider when he saw the newborn nuzzling into Evan's hand that was still stretched down towards her.

When he walked past them both and moved towards the back of the station, Evan turned his attention to (Y/n). He tried to keep his composure, stay standing tall and plastered the smile back on his face as he stepped closer to her. He liked the way she had to tilt her head at an angle to look up at him. He liked that doe look in her eyes and the way she smiled at him was as if he was the only person in the world worth talking to.

"You uh, you know Bobby?"

"He's my uncle, I used to stay with him a lot when I moved out here after school. He's Rory's godfather."

(Y/n) would say that she was closer to her uncle than she was to her own parents. He had practically taken her in when she moved out to LA not long after Bobby left Minnesota to come out here. She had always heard him talking about his team, but she had never come down to the station or formally met any of them. They were like Bobby's second family and sometimes it was easier to keep both his worlds separate.

But from what (Y/n) had briefly seen of the team, she knew she would like them, especially Evan.

"Oh, wow." Evan nodded and began walking, motioning his arm in the right direction as (Y/n) followed along at his side with the pram. She would stick around for a coffee and a chat before she took Rory back home.

As Evan dragged his hand up and down his jaw and listened to the sound of (Y/n)'s shoes clicking against the polished floor, he found himself smiling. He had no idea Bobby had a niece, or that his niece would turn out to be someone so lovely who Evan was finding himself thinking of at every waking moment.

He liked the idea of (Y/n) being related to Bobby. Evan had come to think of Bobby as the dad he'd never had growing up. Bobby looked after him, taught him life lessons, was there when he needed him and loved and supported him and told him when he was wrong and how to right his problems.

If (Y/n) was related to Bobby, that just meant that instead of feeling like Bobby was his foster dad, he would now have a connection to him. If Evan got close to (Y/n) and found himself in a relationship with her, he would therefore be more like a true relation to Bobby. This was the beginning of a family.

They would all be drawn closer together, and Evan wanted to be as close to (Y/n) as he could get.

***

Evan almost jumped out of his skin when a hand gripped his shoulder and he felt a tall presence leaning over his right shoulder. He could feel his heart hammering away so fast in his chest he thought his ribs were going to splinter.

He glanced over his shoulder and his eyes locked with Bobby. The Captain had a knowing grin on his face that put Evan at ease, he wasn't about to be reprimanded for anything and he wasn't going to have a stern conversation. He seemed to have taken some delight in making Evan nervous, something Bobby didn't do very often.

"So, my niece, huh?"

It took Evan by surprise and he had to take a few seconds to work out what Bobby was talking about. Until Bobby cast his eyes down to look at Evan's phone that was clasped in his hands, and they both looked at his lockscreen.

(Y/n).

A blush started to creep up the side of Evan's neck and dusted across his cheeks when he nodded. He wasn't sure how to respond to that because it didn't really sound like a question, it was more of a statement or a rhetorical question.

But Bobby didn't seem upset or annoyed or like Evan was overstepping any mark here. He looked happy, if Evan wasn't mistaken.

"I uh, I really like her, Bobby, and Rory. I'd never mess them around-"

"Kid, I trust you. You've come a long way, and I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt either of them. If you're both happy, then so am I."

He had Bobby's approval, and he didn't have to try or ask or say anything at all. Bobby was happy for them. He was happy that Evan was infatuated with his niece and would do anything for her. This was better than Evan had hoped for.

Something soft dwelled in (Y/n)'s eyes when she glanced towards the living room.

Evan was sweet.

He was stood behind the sofa, looking like he had been pacing up and down for a little while now. He had Rory in his arms who he had been holding for the last twenty minutes or so. He barely put her down, and she barely cried in his arms.

She couldn't quite believe how sweet and endearing Evan was being towards both her and Rory.

(Y/n) had been a little nervous and mostly unsure when Evan came round last week, and then again, and then popped by today. She wasn't sure why he wanted to befriend her so badly. She was a single mother with a newborn, she wasn't going to be much fun or good company, but Evan seemed intent on getting to know her. And he was more than eager to fuss Rory and settle her if she woke up, to give (Y/n) a break.

She folded her arms over the kitchen counter and tilted her head to one side, watching Evan with a growing smile that spread across her lips. He looked like he was a natural with kids, Bobby had said so himself. He said all the kids they had on calls or the school groups that stopped by the station all levitated to Evan like he was some kind of beacon.

He understood them, he was a friendly, understanding face and a fun person to be around. And he just seemed to have a natural talent with kids. When he came round to have a coffee with (Y/n), to see how she was and ask if she wanted to go for a walk or just spend some time together, he was always more than eager to have Rory around.

Not many men would be like that. Not many men at all would try and befriend (Y/n) or pursue her when she had a baby to look after. And not many men would be so taken with her newborn and try to offer help and be a friend to be around when needed.

She couldn't hear whatever Evan was saying to Rory, but the grin on his face made her wonder if he was relaying a story, possibly a work scenario.

Her eyes finally tore away from the pair of them to look down at her phone when it buzzed on the countertop.

*Me and Athena are having a BBQ at the weekend, do you want to come over? You can bring Buck XX

(Y/n) could feel herself lighting up at the thought of a party, but when she re-read her uncle's words again, her chest started to ignite with adrenaline and her face fell into a frown.

She could bring Evan? Why would he ask her that? Wouldn't he just invite Evan along anyway? Most of her uncle's parties or meals and events included his work team nine times out of ten. Evan would surely be on the list to be invited, he would likely be the first person they invited. Why was there any need for (Y/n) to bring him along?

For a brief moment, she glanced back over at Evan in the living room, watching as he moved to sit down on the sofa, still cooing and quietly chattering away to her daughter.

*Bring Buck? XX

*Don't worry, he told me. I'm happy for you both, he's a good kid and the team is eager to meet you XX

What on Earth did that mean?

What had Evan told her uncle? Did Bobby think they were in a relationship? Did anyone else think she and Evan were in a relationship?

She and Evan were friends, he had been kind to her and he was becoming a good friend. But they weren't in a relationship. He hadn't asked her and (Y/n) wasn't sure she was ready for that. Her last relationship had gone bust the moment she found out she was pregnant and (Y/n) made the decision to do this on her own. She wanted to have her baby and she was happy to be a single mother to Rory.

(Y/n) couldn't be thinking about a relationship right now, not after she'd just had Rory and her world was turned upside down, in the best possible way. She wasn't in the right moment to be thinking about getting into a new relationship.

Stuffing her phone into her back pocket, (Y/n) sighed and pushed off the counter. She was going to have to talk to him about this. Either Bobby had gotten the wrong end of the stick somewhere along the line, or Evan had said something he shouldn't. Or maybe Evan had gotten the wrong end of things, but how?

(Y/n) hadn't said anything or done anything to give Evan the wrong idea. They were friends.

She moved away from the counter, but paused when another buzz ticked through the air. That wasn't her phone. She dared to lean over, just to catch a glimpse of Evan's phone; it might be Bobby messaging him.

She wished she hadn't looked.

Why did Evan have a photo of (Y/n) as his lockscreen?

When had he even taken a picture of (Y/n)? She didn't recall Evan ever holding his phone up and taking a photo of her, she would of remembered something like that happening with someone she didn't know very well. Why was it made his lock screen? Why had he taken a photo of her?

A shiver crawled down her spine as she walked out of the kitchen and slowly headed into the living room. She tried to smile when she watched Evan gently ease Rory down in the rocker near the armchair. The newborn was fast asleep.

(Y/n) folded her arms over her stomach and leant one hip against the back of the armchair, trying not to look too panicked or too casual or uneasy.

"Evan, have you said something to Bobby, about us?" She forced herself to control her breathing and keep her tone light. She didn't want to argue with him or start something here, she just wanted to clear this all up.

The last thing they needed was to go to this barbeque at the weekend and have people asking if they were an item and one saying yes and the other saying no. They couldn't get things muddled up or let the lines blurr.

She watched his head tilt to one side and a lopsided smile formed on his lips as he squinted up at her.

"Well, yeah, I talk about you sometimes, so… he knows. He's fine with it, though, so don't worry."

"He knows?" Her head shook and the placid smile on her face showed her clear confusion.

She could feel panic dwelling up in her chest when Evan brushed his hands up and down his thighs and pushed up to his feet. She couldn't help but take a step back when Evan twisted and walked over to her. He walked slowly, as if he was a predator stalking towards her, assessing her movements. And (Y/n) held steady, not wanting to give the wrong impression or seem like she was angry when she was simply confused.

Her breath caught in her lungs and she could feel her throat tightening when he stepped so close, their chests were touching. She could feel each breath Evan took, pressing down against her and she couldn't help the shiver that rolled down her spine when Evan's fingers pressed beneath her chin and tilted her head up in his direction.

The way he smiled down at her made something twinge in (Y/n)'s stomach. She couldn't quite figure it out, but there was just something in his eyes that made her uneasy. That glimmer, that added, darkened look that made his pupils dilate and caused his mouth to curve into a splintered smile that set her on edge.

"Yeah, that you're my girls."

His words were followed by his lips pressing to her forehead that had started to spin in circles.

She didn't realise Evan's hands had moved to her hips or that he was nudging her back until the sofa pressed into her knees and she found herself sitting down. Her heart jumped into her throat once again and she could feel herself trembling when Evan sat down beside her.

He was close enough that their knees were touching and he curled one hand around her thigh while the other hand cupped the side of her neck. She could feel his thumb brushing softly across her jaw and when he leaned in, the only place for (Y/n) to go was to tilt backwards.

He was leaning over her. He was crowding her, surrounding her, blocking her exit and her senses and numbing her thoughts.

She didn't know what to do when he kissed her.

His lips were soft, but there was something behind his touch, something he was holding back. She could feel it in his touch, in the way his hand was so tense against her neck it was like he was about to start shaking. There was something in his hand gripping her thigh, like he was tempted to squeeze even tighter and pin her in place.

The feeling of his chest pressing down onto hers made (Y/n) sink further back into the sofa she was becoming compressed on when Evan was practically lying on top of her.

She stole as much air as she could manage in the second that their lips parted and she could feel Evan smiling into her mouth before he kissed her again.

This was moving too fast. They hadn't even gone out on a date or made any inclination towards dating. They were friends- (Y/n) thought they were friends.

Evan had come round to see her a few times, they had exchanged numbers. There was no reason for her picture to be on his phone or as his lockscreen. He shouldn't be kissing her now when they hadn't agreed to start dating and they didn't know each other well.

Evan had instagated this all on his own, he had attached himself to her and he didn't look like he was going to part from her. He had told his team that they were dating, he was already making it a well-known fact when the person he should have been talking to about this was (Y/n); the only person left in the dark about all of this.

What was she going to do?

#911 imagine #imagine #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #dark! buck #bobby nash #eddie diaz

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willow-moon-23 · 2 days

Text

Black Cat and Her German Shepherd

Aaron Hotchner X Fem!Reader

Summary: The tables have turned and now it's time for her team to meet her spouse.

Part 1

Word Count: 2437

Standing in the kitchen, her hands braced on the counter. She takes a long slow breath. Hotch walks up behind her.

“Are you feeling ok, colonel?” He wraps his arms around her from behind.

She glances back at him. “Fine. Just thinking.”

Hotch studies her for a moment longer. “Are you worried about me meeting your team?”

(Y/N) lets out a sigh. “No.” Her answer was flat, but Hotch could tell she was fighting a lot of thoughts in her head as she glares at the cleaned dishes on the counter.

“Then what is it?” He asks patiently.

She pushes off the counter, pushing Hotch a step away as well. “My team,” She starts slowly as she turns to face him. “I’ve told you the stories. They are a motley crew of hardened soldiers. They hardly have a filter when talking to higher ups and even less of one when talking to each other.”

“I’m aware.” He nods, letting her talk through her thoughts.

“They’re good men. I trust them with my life.” She speaks slowly.

Hotch brushes her hair from her face. "But?"

(Y/N) hesitates for a moment. “I don’t know. I can’t figure out why I’m hesitating like this.” She runs a hand through her hair and looks up at her husband. “You’ve met the captain before. Only because I got hurt, but you’ve still met him and he likes you. He always asks about you when I come back from leave.”

He nods along. “He gave me his number in case anything were to happen to you.”

“Yes. He’s a good man.” She agrees with him and begins pacing. “I know they won't judge us for any reason. They might make jokes if they are comfortable enough.”

Hotch walks up to her again and holds her shoulders, effectively stopping her pacing. “You’re overthinking it. Take a breath, colonel. I’ve never seen you this worked up. Not even when you’re being deployed.”

She does as he says and takes a slow breath. “This feels more nerve-wracking than a month-long mission and I can’t figure out why.”

“Maybe there is no ‘why’.” He rubs her arms gently. “Maybe you want to be sure that both your lives can coexist and not clash. There's no harm in wanting things to go well.”

(Y/N) looks up at the ceiling. “Maybe you’re right.” She drops her head to rest against Hotch’s chest. She slowly wraps her arms around him. “Stop reading me.”

Hotch chuckles. “I didn’t have to profile you to know all of that.”

She hums. After a moment, she pushes back. “Cap and Gaz said they would be here in ten. Johnny said he’d catch a ride with Ghost. Meaning they would be late because of him.”

“Do we have everything ready for them?” Hotch’s hands rub her back idly. He glanced around the kitchen, seeing all food was ready.

“Yeah, I just need to set the table and change.” She tilts her head as she thinks.

Hotch looks her up and down. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?”

“I’m in workout clothes.” Her tone was flat. She looks down at her sports bra and leggings with a raised eyebrow.

“I think you look great.” He winks.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes. “You’re awful. I’m going to change.” She turns away from him and walks to their room. Hotch chuckles as he watches her leave the kitchen.

Once the door closes behind her, he begins taking out the silverware and glasses to set the table for her. He sets it identically to when she had made dinner for his team about a month ago. He walks around the kitchen one last time making sure everything that needs to be turned off is before walking to their room. He knocks twice before entering. Hotch smiles and walks up behind (Y/N).

“I like this shirt.” He comments, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

(Y/N) closes her eyes and hums. “You should. You bought it for me.”

“Yes, I did.” His voice was smug. Before he could compliment her again their doorbell rings.

(Y/N) chuffs. “Saved by the bell. Take a second before you come out, yeah.” She pats his chest affectionately before walking out and closing the door behind her. She smirks as she hears Hotch groan behind the door. She takes a deep breath before opening the front door. She is greeted by her captain and one of her sergeants. “Evening boys.”

“Good to see you, colonel.” Price steps forward and envelopes her in a warm hug as she lets them into her home.

She accepts his hug and turns to Gaz. “How was the flight over?”

“Not too bad. Cap slept the whole way here.” Gaz laughs and offers her his own hug.

(Y/N) shakes her head and hugs him. “No surprise there.” She hears her bedroom door open behind her and pulls back. “Boys, my husband, Aaron Hotchner.” She steps to the side as Hotch enters the space next to her.

Price was the first to extend a hand. “Good to see you again, agent.”

“Likewise, captain.” Hotch shakes his hand, with a nod.

(Y/N) motions toward Gaz. “This is Sergeant Kyle Garrick, or Gaz, as we all call him.”

“I thought he’d be taller.” Gaz stage whispers to (Y/N) before extending his hand.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes. “I told you he’s barely taller than you.”

Hotch takes Gaz’s hand with a chuckle noticing his wife's banter with the sergeant. “A pleasure to meet you, sergeant Garrick.”

“Gaz is fine.” The sergeant gently corrects him. Hotch nods mentally takes a note.

A loud knock at the front door had (Y/N) turning to open it. ”And there are the last two.”

The four are met with Johnny’s grinning face the second the colonel opens the door. He immediately pushes into her house, hugging her tightly. “Bonnie, it’s been too long.” He squeezes her as if he hasn’t seen her in over a year.

“It’s been three days, Johnny.” (Y/N) pushes the Scott off with a raised eyebrow.

“Three days is three too long.” He practically whines at her. Gaz and Price chuckle behind them.

“He’s been whining the whole way here.” Ghost steps into the house and closes the door behind him. The tall Lieutenant towered over all five of them in his black hoodie and face mask.

The colonel chuffs. “No surprise there.” She turns to her husband. “This-”

“John McTavish, they call me Soap.” Johnny interrupts her with a grin and eagerly shakes Hotch's hand.

“Is our other Sergeant.” (Y/N) sighs. “And this is Lieutenant Riley. He prefers Ghost. Boys, this is my husband, Aaron Hotchner.”

“Federal Agent.” Ghost looks him up and down.

“Unit Chief.” Hotch nods, taking Ghost's hand.

Ghost hums and turns to (Y/N). “How’s the side?” he jerks his chin toward her.

(Y/N) shrugs. “Healing.”

Johnny bumps Hotch's arm. “So, how ya manage to tie ‘er down?” Gaz chuckles behind Johnny. “Couldn’t ‘ave been an easy feat.”

(Y/N) lightly smacks the backside of Johnny’s head. “He didn’t tie me down.” She glares at him. “Get in the dining room before I throw you out already.”

“Awe, don’ be like that, Lass. Just poken’ a bit of fun.” Johnny grins, knowing she’s not actually mad at him.

“Go.” She points to the dining room.

Johnny holds his hand up in surrender and walks into the other room with Gaz and Ghost behind him. Price chuckles. “Pay them no mind. They were all excited when you told us to come for dinner.”

Hotch steps next to his wife and gently rests a hand on her lower back. “I’m glad you all could make it. I know you’re going back tomorrow. So it means a lot to both of us that you took the time to stop here first.”

Price smiles. “Anything for one of ours.” He turns and walks into the dining room.

(Y/N) sighs and looks up at Hotch. “Any initial thoughts?”

“Your stories of Johnny don’t do him justice.” Hotch laughs softly.

She shrugs. “He’s something else alright.”

“Come on, they’re waiting for us.” Hotch softly nudges her forward.

“Fine.” She takes his hand and heads in. She takes her seat next to Hotch’s after passing out plates to everyone and looks around the table. Her team was all happily joking with her husband as they all settled in. Her team thanks her for the meal and eagerly digs in. They haven’t had a properly cooked meal like this in a while, so they enjoy it when they can. All of them make sure (Y/N) knows how thankful they are before the questioning starts.

“So, how bad has it been, been’ married to this one?” Johnny was the first to break up the sound of utensils on plates. (Y/N) glares at Johnny.

Hotch laughs it off. “Honestly, not much has changed for us. We love spending time together. Marriage just seems to work for us.”

“He puts up with me, it’s all I can ask for.” (Y/N) chimes in as she cuts another bite to eat. Her lighthearted comment brings a chuckle to everyone.

“You have a little one, right?” Gaz leans forward to ask Hotch.

“I do. Jack is at his aunt's house right now.” Hotch smiles as he talks about Jack.

Price turns to (Y/N). “He likes you?”

“He does.” She nods. “I mean, he better, I’ve been in his life since he was born.” She looks over at Hotch with a smile.

Price chuckles. “Fair enough.” Price turns to Hotch. “She told us you were a prosecutor before working with the BAU, correct?”

“Yes, I used to work as a prosecutor. I changed fields so I could do more good than I was doing then.” Hotch easily takes over the conversation. Telling them how he felt as if he could do more good being a profiler than he ever could as a prosecutor.

Her team continues to ask more questions, mainly about Hotch’s job and how he treats (Y/N) when she's home. Once everyone was finished eating the boys immediately help (Y/N) clear the table and wash up, not that she even asked them to. If anything, she told them not to, only to be, politely, pushed aside. Hotch stands next to her as Johnny and Gaz tell him about a mission they went on where they had to detangle (Y/N) and Price from a tree after a rough landing. (Y/N) and Price exchange glances when the two add more details than were true. A few eye rolls and scoffs were shared at the story.

Once all the dishes were done and Johnny finally finished another one of his stories, (Y/N) moved everyone into the living room. There Hotch tells them a bit more about what he and his team do. The team listens eagerly, hanging onto nearly every word. (Y/N) smiles to herself as she watches them. After a minute she feels a soft tap against her shoe. She looks up to see Ghost staring at her. He nods his head toward the kitchen. (Y/N) gives him a soft nod.

“You boys want tea?” She interjects softly as Hotch finishes his thought.

“I wouldn’t mind a cup.”

“Yes, please.”

“Sure, Lass.”

She nods as they accept. “Aaron?” She stands and looks down at her husband.

“I’m alright, thank you.” He smiles up at her.

“Ok. Give me a hand, Simon?” Ghost merely stands and follows behind her. The two walk into the kitchen as the four continue talking.

“You trust 'im?” He asks the second the two are out of earshot.

“With my life.” (Y/N) looks up at the lieutenant.

Ghost stares at her with matching seriousness. “He good to ya'?”

“Very.” She answers easily.

He nods. “If he tries anythin’.”

“You’ll be the first I call.” She interrupts his thought.

Ghost grunts. “'is team know you?”

“Met them a while back.” She nods.

He nods. After a long pause, he speaks up again. “I like 'im.”

(Y/N) chuffs. “Really? I couldn’t tell.”

“Don’ get cheeky.” Ghost narrows his eyes at her.

“Wouldn’t think of it.” (Y/N) turns to prepare tea for her team.

Once the tea was ready, the two brought out the cups and passed them to each member. They all say their thanks and ease back into asking questions. To Hotch’s credit he takes Gaz and Johnny’s lighthearted banter and runs with it. The night goes on with loud laughs and well-meant jabs at each other. Hotch got to sit back and watch (Y/N) and Johnny have a back-and-forth on whose fault a misplaced rifle started a five-day hunt for said rifle was. Sitting in his living room with his wife and her team allowed him to see just how close they all were and how much they cared for each other.

As the sun started to go down the team realized they should be heading out. They all said their goodbyes for the night, giving hugs to their colonel and strong gripped handshakes to Hotch. They thanked Hotch and (Y/N) for the meal and headed out the door.

Price stops by (Y/N) and rests a hand on her shoulder. “You have a lovely house. Thank you for having us over.”

“Thank you for accepting my invitation to join us.” She rests her hand over his.

“We’ll always come when you call, love.” Price smiles at her.

She returns his smile. “Drive safe.”

He gives her shoulder a light squeeze and tips the brim of his hat to her and nods to Hotch before walking to his car. (Y/N) and Hotch stand outside watching each of them get into the cars, Johnny waves at them as he and Ghost drive off first. Price and Gaz follow out the driveway.

Hotch wraps his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Feel better?”

“I do.” She leans into him. Her hands hold his arms.

“You sure, you look pensive.” He tilts his head to look down at her.

She waves off his worry. “Price mentioned something about our next mission. It’s nothing to do with you meeting them.”

Hotch could tell she was being honest. “You think I meet their approval?”

(Y/N) nods. “Ghost likes you.”

“He barely said a word.” Hotch raises an eyebrow.

“That’s just how he is.” She shrugs. “I’m surprised you couldn’t tell, Mr. Profiler.” She teases.

“I think it was the twitch in his eye every time I touched you that made me think otherwise.” Hotch laughs. “You have a good group around you. They genuinely care for you.”

(Y/N) gives his arm a squeeze. “Yeah, they’re a good bunch.”

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #Task force 141 x reader #moon writes

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 2 days

Text

Spiders Into The Bat...Verse?

{Accidentally getting thrown into another portal, you have to figure out your way back! Yet Au's are tricky things...}

《BATBOYS and SPIDER!S/O》 Mini Series

╭╭(╭◕‿◕╮)╮╮ ♡ /|\ ^._.^ /|\

Bruce Wayne/Batman:

"Phew~... Well, that should be all of them." You grin, smiling at the Dark-Knight... Bat-Knight? Either or, you happily bump into his armor as you talk with Captain Gordon. The Knight looming beside you easily.

When you first arrived, you crashed into Wayne Manor's extravgent garden party. Crashing into tea sets and tables, while trying to fight off the pest that threw you there!

While simultaneouly keeping terrorfied citizens and guests away.

Finally throwing the creature back into the portal, you cheered. About to follow suit, yet as soon as your web was tossed in. It snapped as portal closed.

Groaning softly, your spidey senses alerted you to the knew presence in the room. Recalling being knocked out, you noted your suit is still on and your on a really fluffy bed.

You don't deem the butler as a threat, opting to instead go over and ask questions as he leads you down below the grandiose home.

The Bat-Knight is Prince Bruce Wayne, heir to the late King Thomas and Queen Martha. Yet is scene in the eyes of the royal council and public as...

Well, not a suitable candiate to rule quite yet.

Since most of his time was spent jesting with royals and nobility at soirees. Along with a few scandals of chasity here or there...

"Hmmm... I'll call you "Wayne" for short. You reply bluntly.

"...Do what you like then." He said distractedly, eyeing the paperwork on his desk.

Having the permission, you get up from your seat. Holding out your arms expectedly.

His saphire eyes narrow at you, "what are you doing."

"I wanna' hug. That's what I would like!" You reply.

With a bit of a clash, you found somwhat normalcy with him and his estate.

He too, had gotten used to your visits to his study. Never fully sure on how to debute you into high-society so he could keep an eye on you when out of the estate.

Quickly giving Bruce a kiss on the cheek in graditude, you step away, fixing the attire he made you wear for the gala. Before eagerly pushing him to join you at the table of desserts or savory snacks.

Dick Grayson/Nightwing:

Rolling your eyes at the hand outstretched for you to take. You ignore it as you walk beside the "Nightwing" of this AU. Glancing at the horse that neighed for your attention as well, you gave it a small pat.

"You' sure you don't need a ride?" He asked politely. The sun beating down on your backs.

Readying yourself, you shoot out a web to the clock-tower in the middle of the dusty town.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine." You said steadily, pulling yourself up high into the air. Web-slinging carefully on only the higher buildings.

A low whistle leaves his lips at the sight.

Dick is the eldest son of the Batfam, along with being apart of the wealthiest family in town.

The family owning a multitude of lands and ranches across the county and beyond in other cities.

Richard has high education and well respected in the community even without his fathers wealth. Takes care of the ranch in Büldhaven, mostly. But often visits Gotham, each time it's a celebartion of his arrival.

Sweet as a bell, always giving a helping hand.

"You.. You seem indifferent." The young man states curiously. You smile slightly, "Yeah. So.. Thanks for that." Holding up the item gifted to you, you head to the drawers to place it elsewhere. The peice of jewelry too dazzling to be out.

Glazing at your (modern) jacket, he picks it up. Tracing the fabric while your back was turned. Strange as it was, he thought it was quite cute. A bit odd, but it suited you.

As Nightwing, another vigilante of the west, the two of you work suprisingly well-...Enough.. As if you know what he has on his mind on the occasion.

Your fighting styles may-be different, but that hasn't stop you two before.

Poking at the boquet in your hand, you hear the soft steps near the horse stalls come closer.

"Hey." You greet, grogginess in your voice.

"Hello... It.. Seems you have a admirer, other than myself." He spoke playfully, side-eyeing the weeds.

You blink, turning away to hide your smile. Small bits of laughter spilling out of you as he stalks closer, pouting.

"So? Where is he?"

"Far." You shrug, gazing at him with mirth, eyeing the buttercups sadly.

Overall, just an idea I had! Maybe I'll do more in the future with other batfams members?

[Thwnk you for reading, reblogs, comments are apperciated! Fan art as well! See you soon! Yall want a part 2? *wink*]

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samandcolbyownme · 2 days

Note

POOKIE WHEN ARE WE GETTING SOME MORE COLBY FICS IM DYINGGGGG (in all seriousness I'm not tryna rush you but pleaseeee just think about writing some more soon it's been like a month I've already re-read them all like 3 times 😭🤚)

I am thankful you chose to re-read my stuff, but here!! Here’s some new Colby smut 🖤

DISCLAIMER: This fanfiction is going to contain reader cheating on boyfriend with Colby. I do not condone cheating, it’s horrible. This is strictly for fanfiction entertainment purposes only!!

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, cheating, flirting, mentions of people being drunk, kissing, hair pulling, unprotected sex, general filth

Word Count: 1.3k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

“Alright.” You sighed as you help up the weight of Leo, your beyond plastered boyfriend, “Come on, just a few more steps, okay?”

Leo groans, mumbling some incoherent words as he slowly lifts his legs onto each step.

“Okay, just-“ you huff, “Lean.. up against, yeah.” You push him back against the wall by the door and fumble to quickly get the house key attached to his key ring.

You drop them and Leo leans forward, “I’ll get’em.”

He leans too far and about knocks you both off of the porch, but the banister saves you from going back, “Leo, stand back up. I have to un-“

The door open and Colby, Leo’s roommate walks out, “I thought I heard something out here, what’s-“

You cut him off, pushing Leo up to stand, “He’s wasted. Again.”

Leo stumbles backwards, “You.. say, that. Like it’s a ba-“ he hiccups, “Bad things..”

Colby grabs him before he can move back any further, “Alright, man. Let’s get you upstairs to your bed, yeah?” Colby glances at you and you shake your head, “I’ll be in. I just-“

“Oh come on! Y/n, cheer up! It’s a p-party!” Leo slurs, “Come to bed with me!”

“I’ll.. be there in a second. I’m going to get you some water and medicine for in the morning.” You walk in behind them and go straight for the kitchen.

Colby laughs as he watches Leo stumble up the steps, “C’mon man. You gotta lift-“ he laughs, “Lifts your legs, dude. There ya go.”

You shake your head, laughing slightly as you open the fridge door. You grab two bottles of water, turning around to set them on the counter before you close the door.

You walk over to the medicine cabinet and reach up to grab the Tylenol. Your fingers push it back and you let out a frustrated sigh as you drop down from your tip toes.

“Need some help?”

Colby startles you for a second, “Oh, um. Yeah.” You laugh quietly, “You scared me. Figured you’d be up there for a little.”

“I’m pretty sure he was asleep before he even hit the bed.” Colby walks over and reaches up, big body right next to yours as he reaches up, “Here you go.”

You take the bottle and set it down, “Thanks.”

He leans against the counter, his hand resting on top, “I don’t..” he sighs, “Stop me if I cross a line, but.. isn’t this his fourth night in a row getting wasted like this? I mean I’m not trying to judge.. or anything, but-“

“Yeah.” You cut him off, scoffing as you lay a hand on your forehead, “Yeah.”

Colby stays silent and you take a deep breath, looking over at him, “I’ve tried talking to him.. I-I- I’ve tried telling him that drinking isn’t-“ you shake your head, “Colby.” Your voice breaks, “What.. what do I do?”

He tilts his head, raising his brows as he shrugs, “Whatever you want, y/n. I don’t think-“

“No, Colby. Please. I need someone to tell me something.” You turn towards him and he turns his head towards you, staring at you while he thinks.

“Please.” Your voice is a whisper and Colby reaches up, brushing hair from your face, “I think someone out there can treat you better, someone who has gotten to know you without actually being with you.”

He steps closer, “I think I could treat you better than he can.” He bends down, lifting you up onto the counter, and it’s game over.

His lips are on yours.

Your hands sliding his shirt up his body.

His hands working to pull your shorts down as you move your hips side to side.

“You woke up at three in the morning, might as well make it worth it, yeah?” Colby mumbles as he leans back, discarding his shirt to the floor.

“Just..” you pull him back in, kissing him as you spread your legs and push his sweats down, “Shut up and fuck me.”

He smirks and pulls up into the edge of the counter, his lips on yours as he pulls your panties to the side and thrusts into you.

You throw your head back, one arm around his neck, your other hand flat on the countertop next to you.

“Oh my-“ you lay your forehead against his chest, biting down onto your lip as he thrusts roughly into you.

“Look at me, look at me.” Colby groans, grabbing your hair and tilting your head back, “You deserve so much better than what you’re getting. You hear me?”

You nod, mouth open as your eyes roll back.

“Words, baby.” Colby wraps your hair around his head, gaining full control. You whimper, eyes opening to look at him, “I deserve so much better.”

You swallow, “You can be my better.”

“I’ll kick him out tomorrow.” Colby bites down on his lip, watching as your face twists and turns with the best pleasure you’ve ever received, “Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

You gasp, your walls clenching around him as you reach the edge, “F-fuck, Colby. Colby.” Your nails dig into his skin, creating red trails as they drag across his shoulders, “Y-yes!”

Colby’s lips press against yours as he tries to silence your moans, “quiet, princess.”

“He’s passed out. Probably wouldn’t give a fuck anyway.” You pant, “Fuck, Colby. I-I’m-“ you gasp, nails digging into his skin as you finally spill over into that euphoric feeling that you’ve been seeking.

“That’s it, baby. Let go for me. I got you.” Colby whispers, “Fuck, y-you- fuck.” He pulls out, spilling his cum onto your thigh, “Shit, shit.”

You rest your head back against the closed cupboards, “That..” you laugh slightly, “I can’t believe that just happened.”

Colby fixes his sweats and walks away for a second.

You lay a hand over your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes, “That..” you take a deep breath, laughing away the tears, “Oh fuck.”

Colby steps towards you, wiping off your leg with a towel, “Sorry if I-“

“No, oh god no.” You look up at him, “I don’t..” you take a deep breath, “I don’t regret this, I just.. the timing.. of it..”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips, “Yeah, no, I completely get it. But I’m sorry if I made you feel-“

“Colby.” You cut him off, “You have nothing to be sorry for, you want to know why?”

He looks up at you, “Tell me, baby.”

You smirk, tilting your head, “Because you have treated me better in these last few months than Leo has. Everytime I’ve hung out here, you were always the one to offer me a drink or food or whatever the case may be.”

“Leo is an immature little boy and I’m just glad we both realized what kind of person he is before he fucked over either one of us over.” He tucks hair behind your ear and kisses your forehead, “Sleep on the couch tonight. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

You nod, “Already planned on it, but thank you.” You smirk and slip down off the counter, bending down to grab your shorts and fix your panties, “I’m just.. scared how he’ll react you know.”

Colby nods, “I’ll be there, I mean, if you want me to be.”

You nod, “Please, at least hide upstairs or something? I’ll tell him you went out with Sam or.. whatever.”

Colby fights back a smile and you tilt your head, “What?”

He shakes his head, “Nothing, nothing, I just..” he walks over, wrapping his arms around you, “Just thinking about after he leaves, how much sex we’re going to have.”

You laugh, “Colby.”

“What? Celebration sex, ya know?”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

I feel like this kinda sucked but aw well. Let me know what you think! I love you all so much. Thanks for reading and I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #Colby Brock #Colby Brock smut #Colby Brock x reader #Colby Brock x reader smut #Colby Brock smut one shot #Colby Brock xplr #colby brock one shot #colby brock dirty one shots #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fanfic #colby brock one shots #colby brock imagines #smut #smut writer

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the-thing-withfeathers · 18 hours

Text

exceeded caution part 2

first time for everything

series masterlist

a/n: heyy y’all!! so this is part 2 of exceeded caution. a lot of it follows the actual movie because i needed set-up for ghostface. there’s still a lot of interaction between the reader + sam & tara but some of it is from the first 30 minutes of scream vi essentially.

warnings: violence (gun usage, knife usage), cursing. he/him pronouns for ghostface.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

a few days ago, sam was nowhere near the forefront of your mind. you had stayed with the group as they navigated their way through accepting that ghostface might be back.

you hadn't spoken to tara much, you felt like you wouldn't be any help to her. she didn't need her ex-girlfriend that she only dated out of convenience around her constantly.

instead, the other carpenter sister started to find solace in your presence.

you found yourself over quite a bit, you noticed that they valued strength in numbers. you even all set a rotation between the group for who would cook that week.

during your week to cook, sam insisted on joining you when grocery shopping. as you promised her that she wouldn't be alone, she mentally promised you the same thing.

"it's just a simple beef stroganoff recipe, sam. you really don't have to come." you smiled sheepishly as you pulled up outside her apartment, she was hopping into your passenger seat.

"ghostface won't let a grocery store stop him from taking lives." sam was firm in her words, you sighed in defeat and drove off towards the shops that were only a couple minutes away from her place. you wanted her to feel safe still.

she pushed the cart while you took ingredients off the shelves, mumbling to yourself as you chucked them in the cart.

"tara used to say your food was amazing. where did you learn to cook?" she asked you, you looked away from your list to smile at her.

"my mom, she's amazing at cooking. she gave up her career to support my dad and become a fulltime housewife." you explained. "i used to help her cook all the time."

"that's pretty cool. i find myself never having the time for new foods. i should probably get on that."

"i can teach you some. or make some for you, i like cooking for people." you shrugged, taking another ingredient off the shelves.

sam would normally decline if you were anyone else, but she felt the urge to accept.

"sure. that would be nice." she nodded at you.

sam had enjoyed you being around more often and getting to know you outside of tara. she even found herself calling you a friend.

or rather, she tried to keep it at friend. she was trying to hide the fact that she felt a pull to you, she didn't know how to explain it. although, one thing was sure, there was an element of guilt to it.

she wasn’t the only one feeling guilty. you felt almost dirty with how much you thought of sam. because of the frequency of your contact, you found yourself wanting to see her more.

was this against some form of girl code that you shouldn’t want to hang out with your ex’s sister?

“um… how are you?” she could see that you were nervous to ask her that. “i know you probably get asked that all the time but i never ask… and i want to know.”

“that’s fine. i figured you would get curious. you always seem to be.” sam commented.

“is curiosity bad?” you teased a little, noting her phrasing.

“no! not at all.” she perked up, shaking her head.

“don’t worry sam, i’m joking.” you realised that the carpenter sisters weren’t used to bantering with someone they weren’t extremely close to— or someone they didn’t love.

“right.” she bit her lip. “but no? it’s not bad at all.” she chuckled. “but i’m… not okay?”

you nodded, respecting her answer and silently thanking her for being honest.

“i hoped that we would escape this when we moved. and i’ve been doing everything to protect tara but it didn’t end for sidney prescott— so i assume that it won’t end for us.” she scratched her brow, the stress getting to her. “i’m sorry you got involved.”

“it’s okay, sam. i knew what i was getting into when i dated tara.” you nodded. “if it happened again, i already knew i’d stick around.”

“that’s admirable.”

you felt your heart clench a little when she said that. nobody had ever told you that your desire to stick around was admirable. you always got “clingy” or “overbearing.” that was the first time you’d ever gotten a compliment on it.

“oh! um… thank you.” you stuttered out, a blush flooding your cheeks. you knew that sam meant it too, she wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better. she was genuinely saying it.

“it’s true.” it was.

you tried to push your flustered down into the depths of your mind as you struggled to reach the top shelf with the last of your ingredients. you were definitely taller than tara— everyone was. but not tall enough to face this eight layered shelf.

sam was.

sam was taller. and she made that perfectly clear when she basically pressed up behind you to grab this damn dijon mustard for you.

oh no… oh no… you had to stop those thoughts. you had turned around too quickly, basically coming chest to chest with the girl. she didn’t seem to mind— and you refused to mind.

you had never been this close to her before. your eyes trailed over all her features, taking them in. she looked just like tara… maybe that’s whats got your heart beating at the speed of light.

but she wasn’t tara. no, she was sam. and you found that to be what sealed the deal for you.

you found her pretty.

you remained silent as you finished off the last of the ingredient collection. you walked over to the self check-out, scanning the items as the blush continued to make its presence known as sam hovered.

you shuffled some things around in your pocket to try and find your card but before you knew it, sam was paying for your groceries.

“what—“ you tried to protest but the transaction had gone through already.

sam didn’t know what overcame her.

it was her way of taking care of you.

it was even her way of apologising to you.

"sam, you didn't have to do that." you shook your head at her.

"my treat, i didn't get to cook for everyone so this is my way of contributing." she shook you off. you knew that was a lie because mindy sent you a photo of meals you missed, one being sam's.

there was no undoing it now. you sighed and reached for the bags, but sam was one step ahead of you, grabbing them and walking out of the store.

you wished you could wash the blush off with soap.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when you arrived for dinner with your groceries. everyone was already at the carpenter’s apartment. they were spread out across the entire floor, conversing with each other.

you got to cooking almost immediately, knowing that everyone had potentially been there for a while. sam left your side to talk to quinn.

you kept feeling eyes on you.

the shorter carpenter sister was talking to mindy when she felt her attention turn away from her and onto you. she watched you cook, she actually always loved your cooking.

she loved when you would make a dinner catered just to her. she actually missed how lively the kitchen used to be when you were in it. you were even dancing around now, your headphones tucked over your ear.

she smiled a little at how you shook your waist to the music. everyone knew not to bother you so you could get it done quicker.

but tara wanted to bother you. she wanted to approach you and say something, anything to break the silence.

you were friends before everything went down. she thought that maybe she could at least salvage that, that would be her way to redemption.

mindy kept talking and talking before cutting herself off suddenly, realising that tara was no longer paying attention.

“tara, don’t.” mindy said, disappointment clear in her tone. “this is something you need to give time to.”

“there’s been a lot of time.” tara muttered, glaring at mindy.

“you can’t just break her heart and expect her to let you back in so quickly.” mindy held her shoulder back.

“i know it won’t be quick, but i have to try.” tara said through her teeth, pulling her shoulder out of mindy’s grasp and starting to make her way towards you.

tara stopped on her heels when she saw her sister already take your attention. she thought that she’d better not interrupt you.

“whatcha listening to?” sam asked you, her arms crossed over her chest.

you pulled your headphones back a little.

“sloppy jane.” you said.

“sloppy jane? what kind of name is that?!” sam laughed.

“she’s cool! i promise!” you raised your hands up in defense. you took your headphones off your head, you gently placed them on sam. your hands nicking strands of her long hair before you pulled them away.

she held eye contact with her as her head bobbed to the music, you matched the bobbing, knowing which part of the song she was on.

a smile formed on her face while you two were in sync. your eyes started to crinkle up with a smile as your hair started getting in your face when you headbanged. she joined you until the kitchen was filled with laughter.

“okay… okay. i see it now. she has a good sound.” sam agreed with you, placing the headphones back on you but leaving an ear open.

“thank you.” you chuckled, moving the beef strips into the bowl you intended to serve it in.

“this smells soooo good.” sam practically moaned out, you laughed at the noise she made.

“well, you’re gonna have to wait like everyone else!” you teased.

she groaned and rolled her eyes. you liked seeing her loosen up a bit more, you were grateful she was getting more comfortable around you.

as you two laughed, tara stared on.

she remembered when she was in sam’s place. she even felt herself grow jealous at her sister. why did she ever think that what she was doing to you was okay? your heart was gold and tara thought she had turned it dark— she realised your golden heart’s integrity never faltered. you were still just as good.

she was cruel and she broke your heart. she didn’t think she would regret it— until she suddenly felt all that guilt wash over her. was she regretting it?

you enlisted sam to help you bring all your dishes to the table.

“beef stroganoff, pasta, and rice. choose your carb to go with it and enjoy!” you presented your meal to the group.

everyone admired your work and sat down at the table. you ended up sitting beside mindy who talked your ear off about some pottery class that she and anika took.

you glanced over at sam first, her eyes meeting yours during her conversation with ethan. you two exchanged heartfelt smiles, you had a good day because of each other.

then you looked at tara, who was already looking at you. her first serving was practically gone. you knew that she loved one thing about you, and it was your cooking. she held a sadness behind those eyes, you saw into it, but you had your doubts that it was sadness.

when you noticed her plate, you felt yourself flash her a smile too. she returned it, it was shy but still genuine. her plate was cleaned up just seconds after everyone served themselves.

crumbs of you, tara would take. she cherished that smile you gave to her, even if it was forced or accidental. it filled her brain.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

washing up had to be done, you wanted do it yourself, saying how you were on a roll from cooking that you wanted to do the cleaning too.

sam was about to speak up but suddenly, tara found her voice.

“i’ll help!” she said, chirping up. everyone looked at her with confusion. they didn’t expect that she would do that for you.

“oh… okay!” you said, making your way over to the kitchen.

you scrubbed the plates and handed them to her to dry. it was a good system that worked.

“you did well with dinner today. your cooking is always good.” tara smiled at you.

“thank you, tara. i appreciate it.” your lips pressed into a thin line.

“i just wanted to say that.” she put the plates onto the drying rack. “we haven’t spoken in a while.”

“i know. i just wanted to give you space. i felt like i wasn’t much help to you ever. and i felt like i wouldn’t be much help now.” you confessed. “but i want to stick around, i would be a pretty shit person if i didn’t.”

she felt horrible that you thought that you wouldn’t be help. in fact, there were some nights that tara found herself longing for you.

“we were friends before this, do you think we’d be able to get back to that?” she asked, searching your face for hope. but all she saw was doubt.

“maybe, tara.” you turned to her, handing her the last of the dishes. you saw the dejected look on her face and sighed. you wanted to go back to that too, you missed the tara that was a good friend to you. “but we can try.”

tara’s face lit up, a bit of shock also hidden between the lines. “okay! yeah… let’s try.” she put the dish away and held her hand out, you chuckled but you shook it.

what you failed to see was your maybe friend’s sister staring at you both from the living room, her jaw tightened as tara touched you.

sam zoned back into the conversation, realising that the show they were watching was long gone and replaced by the news again.

there was another death.

sam erupted in her anger, suddenly storming into the kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knife that she owned.

you had no idea what just happened, tara followed her sister back to the living room, the commotion having everyone sit up.

“sam! slow down!” tara yelled after her sister, you joined them after putting the dishes away. “can we please think about this before you decide to abandon my college education?!”

you couldn’t blame sam for wanting to leave. this was something that she just wanted to escape. as much as you would be upset, you would understand. you’d help, even.

you would help them pack up if it meant they were away from everything. you were prepared to never speak of the carpenter sisters again, in hopes that they would never have to go through this again.

“this can’t just be a coincidence, tara!” sam yelled back at her. today was the day where you saw the genetic stubbornness displayed by the carpenter sisters.

“quinn, can you please call your dad?!” tara asked their roommate, quinn immediately nodded. you could tell she didn’t want to get yelled at by sam but it was a reasonable point of action.

ring!!!

everyone flinched. you didn’t. it was just a phone ringing to you, but to everyone else, it was so much more.

sam’s phone blared on the table, she walked over only to see that it was gale weathers, she declined the call without a doubt.

you watched as quinn travelled across the room, telling sam that her father wanted to speak to her. you heard the muffled voice of mr. bailey from where you were standing.

“okay, thank you. i’ll be right there.” sam hung up. “he wants me down at the station.”

“i’ll drive you.” you said, grabbing your keys. “i live close to the station.”

“you shouldn’t have to—“ you cut sam off.

“no. i will. no man left behind, remember?” you said, firm in your decision. sam sighed but nodded.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you, sam, and tara made it out the door and started to walk to your car.

suddenly, sam’s phone rang again. the two girls stopped when they saw the name displayed on the screen.

richie kirsch.

richie? you recognized that name. you huddled closer to the sisters, closing your eyes to rack your memory for where you knew that name.

no. wait.

it couldn’t be. he was dead, wasn’t he?

“don’t pick that up.” tara said, looking up at sam.

sam hesitated, but it could be important. these calls were life or death for them. she picked up.

you looked at your surroundings. you suddenly felt so exposed, like anything could happen to you now that you weren’t in the comforts of your own home— or anyone’s home.

“who is this?” sam asked into the phone. you couldn’t hear the responses, only sam’s facial expressions changing as time went on.

her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes changed. you saw woodsboro glaze her pupils, you knew she was thinking back to her life before the city. everything was resurfacing.

“i want you to think long and hard about whether or not you wanna do this because the last two people that fucked with us ended up dead.” she said, planting her feet down with determination.

your eyes started to tear away from sam, not absorbing the conversation.

bad gut feeling.

you had to stop ignoring those.

“you better watch your back, asshole.” sam said.

and tara yelled.

a cloaked figure sporting a ghostface mask suddenly grabbed tara, you sprung into action. tara elbowed the figure and you shoved him into the bike rack.

“go!” you said, running just behind the two sisters.

“there!” sam redirected you into a little corner store. you stood with your front to the door while the girls yelled at the cashier to help them, starting a fight with someone in line.

suddenly ghostface walked in.

you backed up into sam, pushing her backwards a little bit while one of the customers stood tall in front of the infamous killer.

you watched as ghostface drove their knife into the man, multiple times.

you gasped, your hand flying to your mouth. you had never seen anyone get killed before. you thought ghostface had specific targets, this wasn’t just an ordinary killer, this killer wasn’t afraid to take any life that stood in his way.

you turned around and the three of you flooded into the back of the store as the clerk wielded his gun.

when the first gunshot rang, sam’s arm flew to cover you as chips flew everywhere. tara was crouched just beside the two of you.

suddenly, there was a second gunshot. but only after you heard the clerk start begging for his life.

you tried to stay quiet, you didn’t realise where parts of your body were. you had a hand on sam’s abdomen, bunching her shirt into your fist. you were terrified, you had never gone through this before. you couldn’t imagine what sam & tara were feeling.

you couldn’t move— or else he would know where you were.

the corner store was quiet, it was like a cruel game of cat and mouse. you heard crunching as the sound of boots got closer to you.

all three of you rounded the corner to avoid detection. sam hid behind a freezer while you and tara hid behind the shelving. you saw sam’s eyes flicker to a can on the ground and you knew what she was trying to say.

carefully, you reached out and picked the can off the floor. it was disgusting and sticky. was this what they had to result to when defending themselves? putting themselves in disgusting situations? you felt twisted picturing them going through this once— now twice.

you threw the can across the corner store, hearing boots walk in the other direction. it was a successful distraction. the three of you started crawling towards the exit.

when you heard the boots stop moving again, you paused. sam leaned forward, you could tell that she could see a lot clearer than you. she slowly inched towards the shelving, then she suddenly shoved it with her shoulder, knocking it down.

god, she was strong.

had she been training herself to get stronger? in case this happened again?

the three of you hauled ass to the exit, being met with cop cars and their sirens.

the three of you were escorted into the cars. the sisters rode in one while you went in the other. you fidgeted with your fingers. then it was daunting on you.

baby’s first ghostface attack.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

you sat in an interrogation room at the precinct. the walls were closing in on you.

you had been close to death before. you remember when you and your parents got into that gnarly car accident that had you coming out with several broken bones and whiplash. you cradled your arm, feeling the after-effects of the worst injury you sustained.

but this wasn't a car t-boning yours. this was a killer.

and you felt like death was kissing your cheek.

you didn't know where sam and tara were, you assumed a different interrogation room. you were waiting for ages, you thought that maybe someone was attending to them first.

you sat in silence for about ten more minutes, trying to decompress the situation.

the lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing detective bailey. you had met quinn's dad in passing, never really speaking to him.

"mr. bailey. how are you?" you asked him, sitting up in your chair. you noticed he had files in his hand. this was going to take longer than you wanted.

"i'm good. thank you... how are you doing? you weren't around for woodsboro, i'm sure it's a bit of a shock to be involved now." straight into it.

"a bit is an understatement, sir." you let out a dry chuckle. "i'm assuming you're going to be asking me more than just 'how are you' though..."

"i'm sorry. i know you're probably tired." he sighed, you nodded. you were trying to hold back a yawn.

"it's fine."

he sat down across from you, opening the file and putting its contents in front of you.

"you're the newest addition to the group, quinn has talked about you. i know you and tara had a past relationship. were you frequently in and out of their apartment?" he asked.

"yeah... tara and i were together for a bit. i usually visited her and i also hang out with mindy and chad, so yes, i was frequently at theirs." you nodded, you often found that honesty was the best policy with these things.

"i know that your relationship with her ended badly." he stated, you scoffed.

"surely a bad break-up isn't enough motivation to go on these killing sprees, right?" you asked, a bit offended.

"sometimes it might just be."

"did you have access to sam carpenter's belongings?" he followed up. what did sam's stuff have to do with this?

"um... no. not really. i never really interacted with sam until ghostface was rumored to resurface. and even then, i don't really have that access." you crossed your arms across your chest, your eyes scanning the photos on the desk. you spotted a photo of sam's license, bloodied and dumped at the scene of the crime.

someone was trying to frame her.

"we found sam's license next to the body."

"well she was with me all day. we went grocery shopping and i cooked everyone dinner." you quickly jumped at the chance to defend her. "tara was there too."

mr. bailey nodded at you confirming their alibi.

"sam said the same thing." he reassured you. he leaned in a bit closer to you. "although, i'd be cautious about those sisters. especially sam. i wouldn't get too close."

your brows furrowed in frustration.

"i'm sure i have nothing to worry about. they're good people." you didn't want to speak any further on the matter.

you hated that the thought of either of them being responsible for these deaths even crossed the detective's mind. he was supposed to be helping them.

two knocks against the door turned the detective's attention to another officer walking into the room.

"the fbi is here." the officer said. detective bailey looked confused.

"the fbi? where?" he stood up then turned to you. "you're free to go. i think sam and tara are waiting for you."

you stood from your seat and followed him, making your way over to the two dark-haired sisters. tara was the first to spot you, nudging sam until she turned around.

you sped up, you didn't know what it was. you just had to make sure she was real.

you wrapped your arms around sam. you felt her tense up out of shock but return the gesture.

"i'm sorry." you apologised for the sudden hug.

"it's okay." sam smiled warmly.

you turned to tara and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly.

tara's eyes met yours. those pleading doe eyes, they wanted more than just a squeeze on the shoulder. she wished she was sam in that moment.

"i'm really glad you two are okay." you cleared your throat. sam smiled at you, even if it was forced, it was nice to see.

you heard two voices chatting just a little bit aways from you. sam started moving towards them, you and tara followed behind.

"kirby?" she spoke, getting the attention of a blonde woman.

"hey sam." kirby replied, moving to hug sam as well.

"do you know each other?" bailey asked.

"yeah... we went to woodsboro high together. she was a senior when i was a freshman." sam clarified. you studied the woman in front of you.

all you could say was that she looked cool. she was an fbi agent that had been monitoring the sisters for a little while. you realised that this had been the kirby involved with the killings too. they shared a very unique experience between each other.

you stayed behind sam while they conversed. kirby was handed the mask that was left at the scene. the mask used in the 2011 killings. kirby lifted her shirt to show the scar that charlie walker gave her.

sam looked uncomfortable. she realised then that this was bigger than just a killing spree, they were trying to send a message.

kirby proposed you all worked together but sam interjected, not giving her the chance to finish.

"we're getting out of town." she pushed through kirby and detective bailey.

"i'm sorry, that's not possible. you're both persons of interest. all three of you are." bailey warned.

"are you serious?" tara stepped forward, the growing frustration evident in her voice.

"he's right." kirby confirmed. "but if we work together-"

"we're going." sam basically barked an order at you and tara.

"my car's back at your place." you said. sam nodded. a small part of her brain was happy that you would be around after that.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

when the three of you made your way out of the precinct, you had never seen so many cameras before. reporters swarmed the three of you, immediately asking sam questions like if she had an alibi or if tara felt safe with her sister.

they didn't pay you any mind, how could they? you were fresh meat to the group, they didn't care about your story. luckily, it allowed you to mercilessly shove them back, helping make space for sam and tara to walk through the flood.

you found yourself holding onto sam's waist, pulling her towards the open spots you've created with your body pushing against the reporters.

"gale weathers." a voice sounded out in the crowd, causing the sisters to stop in their tracks. you knew that name too, it felt like an endless revision on who was who, if you had studied well enough. "do you ladies think that you're the reason that the ghostface killer has come to the big apple?" she asked.

you saw it in sam. she snapped. she'd had a long night, she nearly lost her life. she nearly lost her sister. and her... friend.

she swung with her fist out.

"sam!" you exclaimed as gale ducked, avoiding the punch. you pulled sam's waist back, you knew she didn't need another video of her going viral. she put her hands over yours, allowing you to hold her back. you had to admit, it felt nice knowing you had a bit of pull on her.

although, you failed to account for the shorter carpenter sister. you failed to catch her pulling her elbow back and swinging at gale with a force of her own.

you jumped at the noise made by the contact and had to hold back a laugh at gale's shocked face. sam cracked a smile, she couldn't help herself.

"stay away from us." tara spat at gale.

you two turned to walk towards a cab that was parked outside the station. you pushed sam slightly by her waist, hoping she wouldn't turn back around.

but gale weathers just had to say something.

"are you two seriously still mad about what happened?"

"you wrote a book. about them." she didn't expect you to say anything. she didn't know who you were or what you were to the carpenters. she looked at you as if you were irrelevant, like another body that ghostface could dispose of just to raise the numbers.

"and who are you?" she asked, a snark in her voice.

"doesn't matter. you took advantage of them. of the fact that they lost their friends, they nearly lost each other." you shook your head. "i remember you, from tara's stories."

tara watched you fight back. how could you still do that after she hurt you? you were full of surprises. she had never seen your tongue so laced with venom before.

"you lost someone too. dewey... if someone kept shoving that down your throat, how would you feel?" you asked, glaring her way as sam and tara entered the cab. gale's stance shifted, she was uncomfortable with a stranger knowing so much information about her personal life. but then again, she put the carpenter sisters' life out there for the whole world to see.

"i remember your book too. you called sam unstable, you painted her in the worst light possible. and i thought you had been through enough with her to know that that's not true." you turned back to the two girls, opening the door to the back of the cab for them.

sam's face was unreadable as she hopped into the car. she stared at the back of your head, or more like the back of your seat. you stood up for her, breaking your kind and golden-hearted demeanour. she was worried that being in this situation would change you for the worst.

you sat in silence after telling the driver where to go. leaning back into your seat, you tried to keep your eyes open. you hadn't gotten any sleep since last night, your time divided between the carpenter residence and the station.

there was so little to say and yet so many words were jumbled in your brain.

when you arrived at the carpenter's apartment, you yawned as you exited the cab. sam caught you do so and stopped you before you could unlock your car. her hand covered yours, gripping it in her own.

"you should rest here for a little bit. you're too tired to drive." she said, looking down at you. you wanted to get home and sleep in your own bed but you knew she was right.

you put your car keys away and walked upstairs with them.

tara immediately made a beeline for the bathroom. she always showered after coming home, she couldn't go a day without smelling like vanilla.

sam put pillows and blankets down on their couch and walked into her room, coming back out with some clothes.

"you can change into these for now, you might as well make yourself comfortable. and you can sleep for as long as you want." she said, you took the clothes and nodded at her.

she sat down on the couch and pulled the blanket up slightly to cover herself, you grabbed the blanket to stop her.

"what are you doing? i'll take the couch." you said, furrowing your brows.

"no. you'll take my bed." she looked up at you from the couch.

"it's your damn bed, sam." you didn't mean to sound so ill-mannered but the tiredness was getting the best of you.

"i know. so i'll do with it as i please." you know it was just her trying to show that she cared. "so you're taking it."

you sighed sharply, you were about to take a massive risk.

"share it with me." you said, holding your ground. you didn't want to kick sam out of her own bed.

she saw the determination on your face. you two were going to sit here and bicker if she didn't give in now. she nodded, standing up and making her way back to her room.

you changed into sam's clothes, her scent wafting as the shirt fell over your figure. then you cracked the door open enough to slip yourself into her room.

just as you entered sam's room, tara came out of the bathroom. she had the look of a shattered woman on her face, you should have been going into her room. she should have offered first.

you shut the door behind you, walking towards the bed where sam was sitting. you spotted her nursing her hand, spotting a deep cut from crawling on glass at the bodega.

"sam, you should've gotten that taken care of." you scolded her a little, walking to her bathroom and grabbing a medkit you knew was there. tara had told you that she put one in every bathroom.

you knelt in front of sam, unpacking the kit to grab the antiseptic and a bandage.

"it's fine, it's only a cut." she protested.

"if ghostface doesn't get you, an infected cut will. and i think that's extremely embarrassing." you tried to make light of it, your exhaustion washing over you. "this'll hurt."

you dabbed the antiseptic into sam's cut. she hissed at the sting. but the sight in front of her was better. you, in her clothes, patching her up. this was probably the worst time for her to form a crush, and probably the worst person to form it on. her sister's ex-girlfriend, who was now involved in the ghostface killings. but your soft features, your concern for her, it was hard to resist you.

she chalked it up to exhaustion, maybe this crush would fade away when she was in her right mind.

but when you situated yourself next to her in bed, your respectful nature forcing you to leave ample space so you two weren't touching each other, she hoped that she would one day earn the honour of closing that gap.

as she closed her eyes, she listened in to your soft breathing. and even when you accidentally ended up shoulder to shoulder in bed,

sam refused to move.

𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩 𓆪𓆩

author's journal okay i actually spent way too much time on this chapter, i had to write out the first 30 minutes of scream vi with a reader insert so it was a little bit more cohesive with the storyline. i don't know how i feel about this one chapter in particular but i'm starting to see the vision for the rest of the series teehee. i promise it wont just be the whole movie written down but it'll definitely have canon events. next chapter is most likely going to be non-canon as much as possible just cause this is a romance fic at the end of the day.

also this is the song i intended for the reader to be listening to with sam

#scream #scream fic #tara carpenter angst #tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter fic #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x f!reader #sam carpenter series #sam carpenter #sam carpenter angst #sam carpenter x female reader #sam carpenter fic #sam carpenter x f!reader #Spotify

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