#is this technically a drabble. i cannot tell

[highfiveheroes]

Small, interesting, still - Ruben

For the writer block thing

ooooh this will be fun!!

-

For someone so squeamish, Ruben really likes the spring.

Bugs like his house. It's near enough to water and woods that when the spring comes, he finds things crawling on his windowsills and in his kitchen and on his driveway more often than not. He doesn't think Kipperlilly likes them much, but what does she know anyway?

This morning it's a centipede, slowly inching its way across the windowsill in the bathroom. He'd been brushing his teeth; at the sight of movement he stops, stares at it, and puts his toothbrush upright in the holder with the toothpaste still on it.

It's late enough in the morning that he probably won't be impeding anyone's get-ready routine, so he can take a minute. He kneels on the toilet and leans over the back of it to put his arms against the wall. The centipede stops for a second, wiggles as though it's contemplating something...

Slowly, Ruben raises a single finger and runs it along the back of the insect. It jerks, then starts running away faster. He just watches it. He watches it, and beyond the centipede, he contemplates the sun and the sky and what the fuck any of them are even doing.

Once, after a particularly harrowing day working with Porter, Ruben had been so out of it that he'd come home and stared at an article of bug facts for three hours, trying to invade his mind with interesting tidbits about bugs instead of watching Porter in memory scream at them and murder—

Well, anyway, he wonders if this particular centipede has 100 sets of legs like it's supposed to or if it's got more or less like real ones do. It crawls into a hole Ruben hadn't noticed was there, aiming for outside. He'll never know, then. He doesn't move though; he stays still, eyes trained on the horizon. The sun has been up for a while now. It's late spring, which means he's treated to earlier and earlier sunrises now, but all of it's moot when he gets up at ten in the morning anyway.

The closer they get to summer, the closer he is to having to deal with this mess Kipperlilly and Oisin had gotten them involved in. He wishes it could be early spring forever, or even winter, something to stave off the disaster that's coming. He knows he's only a small part of a plan much bigger than he is, and he knows what he wants is inconsequential in the face of Porter and Kipperlilly and Oisin, and he knows he'd be better off if he could separate himself, or die, or something, because god only knows how poorly this is going to go—

Well, anyway, it's Saturday morning in late spring. Ruben is squeamish, but he doesn't hate the world for it. He only hates himself.

He picks up his toothbrush again.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Nights Spent In; Azul Ashengrotto

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, established relationship

Word Count; 700+

Author's Note; This is for one of my first mutuals @azulashengrottospiano! I hope you enjoy this, and some domestic Azul! [and I'm keeping a screenshot of your ask ^v^]

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

Safe to say your social battery was pretty much at zero. You had fun, yes, but all you wanted to do was stay at home in some ridiculously comfortable pyjamas, eat leftovers from lunch, cuddle a bit, and maybe look through the storage container labelled Games! :D since there could be some hidden gems in there. And right now you were cuddled up under a super chunky knit blanket, snug as a bug in a rug.

You were content just putting the leftovers from lunch in the microwave, but Azul had insisted that he made the both of you dinner. You didn’t mind, since you had a nice view of him working away in the kitchen, muttering the recipe of tonight’s dinner to himself. He was even wearing the frilly apron and kitschy oven mitts.

What a dork. I love him so much. You giggled to yourself, watching Azul go about the kitchen, off in his own little world. 

Sighing, you got up — the blanket draped over your shoulders so you were still in your nice blanket burrito — and shuffled over to the Games! :D container, seeing if there was anything interesting that Azul wouldn’t just automatically win. You loved him, but if he made you go bankrupt again in this world’s version of Monopoly one more time you swore that you weren’t going to give him any kisses. You may love him, but he was not a humble winner. 

So any strategy games were completely out the window, luck based games were more on your side… hopefully luck just decided to favour you tonight. At least you had a cute chef at the least.

Hmm? What’s this? Blowing off the dust you pulled out an old edition of Snakes and Ladders. It relied only on luck, so it was perfect!

“Hey, sweetie,” you called to the kitchen.

Azul was just placing your dinner in the oven, it would take about thirty minutes to bake, so he had time to spare… and for you? He could spare all the time in the world for you. “What is it, darling?”

You held up the game under your chin and gave him your biggest smile. “Wanna play?” You waggled eyebrows for some added flair, and it made Azul chuckle.

“Fine, one round, but I won’t go easy on you,” he said, sitting down at the coffee table. He eyed the game, and squinted his eyes at the dice. A luck-based game? Playing your cards right I see.

“You never do,” you shot him a wink and rolled the dice. You moved your piece forward, not hitting any ladders.

Azul rolled his eyes, but took his turn, overtaking you by two spaces, also not hitting any ladders. “Would you rather that I did?” He looked up at you through his lashes, a small smug smile on his face. 

You hummed as you took your turn, getting a ladder and going up a row. “No, it’s more fun like this, plus you’re extra cute when you get fired up.”

Azul pushed up his glasses, trying to ignore the warmth that had seeped into his cheeks. “Flattery won’t help you, my dear, when I win.”

“We’ll see about that.~”

The rest of the game was spent in silence, the occasional tch escaping when either of you hit a snake, but the game was neck in neck. You had to roll a perfect six to win, and Azul a four, and it was his turn. The both of you had your fingers crossed.

He rolled a two, the exact number that he didn’t want. He moved his piece forward and gritted his teeth as he moved it down two rows. He sighed, handing over the die. He knew that he had most likely lost this game.

You gently took it, and rolled a six. You had won. “Looks like luck was on my side tonight,” you grinned.

Azul grumbled, but he couldn’t stay mad at you. “Would you like a prize for that?” It was part sarcasm, but also part genuine question.

You placed a kiss on his cheek. “Just spending time with you is a prize in its own right… but I won’t say no to your cooking either!”

It wasn’t really a prize, as you were already getting his cooking for dinner, but it nonetheless made Azul feel soft and warm. The two of you really should spend more nights in if they were going to be like this.

~~~~~~~

Tags: @eynnwwyjth, @hydra-sea, @inkybloom-luv, @identity-theft-101, @krenenbaker, @officialdaydreamer00, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

[randomshyperson]

Hello fav writer 🤭 saw the game so here my request!!

Wanda + touch + number 2 ! Pretty please ♡♡

Hope you're okay if not I send you a lot of love :)

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Drabbles

prompt: calloused hands in soft hands | words: 1183 | warnings: brief mentions of self-harming and violence, unhealthy coping mechanisms, winter soldier reader, takes place around civil war, fluff, kinda friends to lovers (unspecified).

A/N-> I wrote most of those on my phone, so I’m sorry if there are typos.

challenge masterlist | general masterlist

-&-

Nine hundred and ninety-eight.

Nine hundred and ninety-nine.

One thousand.

Start again.

One.

Two.

A drop of blood felt at your feet. The pain makes you flinch but you push again.

Three.

The bag makes a noise.

Four.

There's another crack and then the sand is mixing up with your blood.

You stop, panting. The destroyed bag is pushed off the holder so you can carry it away with the other ruined ones. 

The gym is empty because they only have two clients. Super soldiers from the 40s who got frozen in time and struggled to trust anything, even gyms, from the new century. But unlike you, Steve Rogers is getting better at training in public. He even goes running with some of the other veterans, you heard he even made a friend there.

You're not Steve. You never were. He was the good Rogers, you, well, let's just say Hydra didn't need to say much to charm you into the quickest way to find your brother again. A couple of lies later, and you found yourself in chains, losing the memories of your brother that were the reason why you accepted their bargain in the first place. Before you could protest, years were wasted as the Winter Soldier. 

Well, that's past now. Yet, you destroyed another pushing bag while remembering your past.

There isn't much to do when you ruin them all - you are left for some push-ups before Steve calls again. He's insistent on your presence in the tower tonight, someone's birthday whatever. You're not the party type. You cannot be his Bucky.

What's left of the bags are discarded in the community trash, and you make sure to lock the place as the old Mrs.Johnson - the son, not the father, as that man died before you got unfrozen by Hydra a fourth time - asked you to. 

But just as you're about to lock the old administration room, someone comes in.

Wanda is dressed in casual attire and they always make her look so not Avenger that it never fails to bring a smile to your face. She corresponds immediately, and you're not sure what good you've done in your life to deserve such sweetness but you're not complaining.

“Hey, you.” You greet her, keys in the lock but eyes on her. She repeats your words and you notice how shy she looks with her little anxious jump and hands safe in her pockets. “I thought you would be at the party tonight.”

She shrugs, a smile playing on her lips.

“I ran away.” She tells with a complicity you two have shared from the second you first met. Maybe being Hydra volunteers does bring people together. “I know you work out here so I thought… I don't know…”

She struggles to justify her presence but that just makes you smile.

“That watching me sweat was funnier? You're a flirt, Maximoff.” You tease her, enjoying the pink of her cheeks that she tries to hide with a chuckle. 

She mutters “very funny” but you don't push your teasing further as you lock the door and tug the keys away. Grabbing your old army jacket from the coat stand by the entrance, you hold the door open for Wanda to go out again.

“Let's grab something to eat. And you're paying Avenger.”

She laughs, retorting that technically you're an Avenger too and you're sure not contradicting a pretty girl today.

The place you two go for is a local diner. It is not full but it's not empty, at least not enough to go unnoticed. Especially with a Winter Soldier physic or the face of everybody's favorite little witch. So when you and Wanda manage to get to one of the last tables without anyone bothering for an autograph, you're sure she used her powers for that.

“You're getting better at this.” You tell her proudly which surprises her. While the Avengers often tell her to control her Hydra impulses such as manipulation of will, you don't seem to mind about the moral issues of it. You're just glad she's getting more confident in her own abilities, instead of blatantly embarrassing her for something opportunely useful like her team does. She smiles shyly in appreciation and you busy yourself with the menu.

But the second your bruised fingers are noticed, Wanda's mood changes. 

The waitress who is coming to the table suddenly has the will to turn back to the kitchen.

You watch as she moves the menu away from you to reach for your hands.

The softest fingers of the earth trace the lines of your calloused, over-abused hands. Every scar is touched before she looks up.

“Why would you hurt yourself like that?” 

You sign, not pulling away from her touch but struggling to stare into her eyes.

“Not all of it was me.” You try to joke, but the weak chuckle that escapes you turns into a nervous laugh as she doesn't smile. “ I did fight for one hundred years, you know?”

She shakes her head, the eyes scanning your face then looks down where your fingers are dancing together. 

“Steve said you were frozen for most of it.” She recalls with a strange hurt in her voice that makes you swallow hard. “And you're also a shooter. That wasn't that much of fighting back in the day.”

You smirk, one of your hands enveloping hers. Touch to touch warms your skin so tenderly that you barely feel the autumn cold coming from the windows.

“If I didn't know you, I would say you care about me.”

Wanda frowns and looks up, a serious look on her face.

“You do know me.” she says. “And you know I care.”

You're not surprised but you're speechless. You don't know how to do this. Whatever is between you and this charming woman.

So you just try your best to do what Steve always says you should: be honest.

Wanda watches as you sigh, hands still on the table, playing with hers.

It takes a moment, but finally, you add:

“The pain anchors me.” You start, risking taking a glance at her worried frown. “It just makes me feel I'm here instead of frozen again. It helps.”

It's her turn to sigh. When her hands move away you're worried you shared too much. You swallow, ready to push down your emotions when Wanda shifts in the bend to slide closer to you.

You tense, like a frightened animal but she doesn't make any sudden moves. Her actions are slow, the lift of her hand to your cheek, the tender smile before she leans in. 

For a whole moment, the world does freeze. But unlike any of the other times, you feel warmer than ever.

She pulls away just enough for you to look at her eyes again, nose to nose.

“Would this anchor you enough?”

You smile at her, your hands finding hers again on her lap. One of them, you lift to your mouth level just to kiss her soft skin.

“I wouldn't be able to be anywhere else, witchy.” 

[sweetwolfcupcake]

Gaze (II)

Secret Garden

Category: Drabble

Yandere John Wick x Reader

Part 2 of this drabble

Part III

Warning: Implied stalking

The GIF does not belong to me; credit goes to the original owner.

Unedited

Your fears turn out to be true, after all.

Days after the party, where you had enough stolen glances and locked gazes to make anyone suspect that you two are long-lost lovers, you still see him. You see him every time you close your eyes, see him from the corner of your eye, and feel him like he is just a few steps behind, but when you turn around, you see no trace of him as if he were a ghost haunting you. 

But you know that it is a trick of your mind, it has to be.

Why would he reach out from his glimmering world to your mundane one? Why would the hand that seems to be more accustomed to holding women clad in diamonds, offer itself for you to take? 

He belongs to the glitter and gold, and you do not. It was painfully obvious at the party. He is that classic art, somewhat dark with the tinge of danger and enigma exuding from it, but no less beautiful, one to be admired from afar and then move on.

Maybe that is why you are stunned to see him in the public library. Between rows of shelves, like a quiet shadow, his fingers run through the expensive cover of a book that itself would weigh as much as ‘War and Peace’. Maybe it is the same book after all, you cannot tell, for the title is in Russian.

You do not know how long you have been staring, but when he turns to you, the dark eyes you have been yearning for lock with yours like magnets. You realise that you are both relieved and intimidated.

He probably doesn’t even remember you.

It has been a month.

And yet something akin to heat flashes in his eyes. Turns out to be recognition, though.

“At the…party?”

“Eh–yes, I was wondering...too.” 

A blatant lie.

He has never left your mind. 

He seems to have stepped right from your dreams, especially those you get, swinging between wakefulness and sleep. When you see him standing over your bed, walking through your room, silent as a predator in the dead of the night. In your dreams, you feel the weight of his hand right next to your pillow. In your dreams, you feel the warmth of his breath over your eyes, nose, and lips. He smells like heat and longing there. Your dreams are so real, you feel you can almost taste them, and the air around you lingers with his presence.

But you know that is simply your mind playing its little tricks. They are just dreams. Impossible dreams. Maybe if they had not been dreams, you would be terrified. But since they are, you let yourself indulge.

You hear his voice for the first time. Technically the second time, but it is the first time that it is addressed to you. And pathetically, you feel special. This feeling, though, you snip out as soon as you feel it, reminding yourself that you are not special. You are a nobody.

Yet you let yourself bask in his presence—the low rumble in his voice strikes a chord each time he speaks, making your heart thud slightly faster. You are enthralled and spellbound, so you decide that a cup of coffee with him will not hurt when he offers it. Never noticing that he is close enough for you to smell him for real.

The rosy haze suddenly sizzles into a cold awakening when his cologne hits your senses. You are not sure if it is the universe working in its twisted, mysterious calculations or if you are suddenly a psychic, but you know this smell. It is familiar because it is the smell that surrounds you in your half-asleep state, where dreams merge with your hazy reality—a different kind of world, you float in between, and he grounds you. You have smelt something familiar and lingering in your room every time you wake up in the middle of the night for some water or before the crack of dawn with a start, as if your body knows something your mind fails to pinpoint.

You blink and look at him, the haze dissipating as you realise how he towers over you and how close he truly is for you to slip out. Dark eyes observe you as if you are the art. But unlike you, he can reach the art whenever he chooses to.

****

@johnwickb1tsch, thanks for the fuel; I am at your service.

[bonny-kookoo]

Mom can u make a teeny tinyyy lil drabble of lo jk teasing mc for dinner pretty please

of course. And because you didn't specify what kind of teasing, I have chosen to horribly edge you :) obvious warning for suggestive, NSFW.

He can sense you're ready. He knows you want to make that one last step towards him, and he wants that too, desperately so. But playing with you turns out to be just.. wait too much fun.

You look just so sweet when you're flustered, adorable when you're frustrated from his half-way advances, never too close, never giving into his desires. It's almost painful, the way he's torturing himself with your currently bare body beneath the palms of his hands-

but you arch your back so sinful underneath his hands that he can't help but see the appeal in trying to find your breaking point. Not literally- he'd of course never cause harm to you or your physical form, but mentally.

How much can you take until you start to beg?

You were technically getting ready for bed, nothing but underwear covering you as you'd become more and more comfortable with him to the point of not minding any form of nudity with one another at this point in time. It's tempting- a teasing sight to him to see you in nothing but barely anything to hide your skin from his sight.

He just had to touch. There is only so much he can resist at this point.

It started with nothing but kisses, your body on his lap on the edge of the bed, just a little bit of affection before you both begin to prepare for rest- but something about you had made him feel.. excited.

It was probably the clear smell of your arousal- your underwear soaked in clear stickiness as he'd pulled it off of you, and it had been a true sight to see. It's the first time he gains a true view of your sobbing core, practically crying out for his touch and attention.

He'd love to give it to you. Fill you up, hold you close, claim your body once and for all as his.

Now would be the perfect time for it- he's been preparing himself with medicinal herbs for a little while now, just to not take any chances. Humans are said to be very fertile for most of their life- so he's extra careful, even though Namjoon had told him time and time again that pregnancy is out of the question due to your difference in species.

It reminded him again that you're not the same- you just have been very good at adjusting to his planet and everything that comes with it.

Truly remarkable.

Loving you feels different from how he used to love before. There's never a true need for anything, no rush, no conditions and requirements. No action needs a reaction, no offering of love has an ulterior motive. If you tell him that you love him, you don't expect him to say it back.

You just want to tell him that you love him.

His hands are now moving, from your breasts between your thighs, opening them up to rest over his own legs, keeping you open while your back rests against his front. "Please-" You beg in a fragile voice, and he stirs underneath you, painfully hard by now. You're just such a temptation that he cannot help but wonder how he could resist you going further.

He wants you.

He needs you.

He's sure you can feel his heart beating heavily in his chest, own body reacting to your clear display of lustful intent. He swallows thickly, leans his head into your neck.

He might've wanted to find out how far he can push you-

but he might just be hitting his own limit, right in this moment.

[chibi-celesti]

Was yea ra afezeria infel waath sos herra(I bless you with my love and song of healing)-REDUX

A/N: Yes, you are reading this title correctly! I needed to remaster this story so badly. Not that the old was bad, Sevens no. I wasn’t happy with the format and execution. This is not tied to the main story. It was a test run for how Hymmnos would play out in Twisted Tonelico, but yeesh. The format for the chorus and awkward wording left little to be desired in my opinion ^-^’. Hopefully this redux is better.

By the way, for the sake of this story, I had Meryu sing the Pastalie/ [Method] song Implanter-aka METHOD_IMPLANTA/.-a form of Hymmnos that she cannot technically sing because she is not an IPD. But for the sake of this drabble she is one, and I gave it to her because this song fits the events of GloMas. Plus, I was in the mood for some Malleyuu fluff when I wrote this lol.

One more thing!: Words in parentheses are the Bell of Salvation singing, and non parentheses words are Meryu singing!

With all that out of the way, I hope you enjoy this redux!!

Synopsis: In the aftermath of the Fire Lotus incident, the Ramshackle Prefect felt powerless as her classmates fought tooth and nail to end the chaos. Knowing the weakening states of everyone in her group and the city, Meryu decides to break the nighttime rules for one night to sing. Only this time, this song is a gift to all.

Pairings: Malleus Draconia x Meryu Melenas (though like with the old one you read their relationship as platonical or romantical)

Warnings: N/A outside of Glorious Masquerade Spoilers

The night still fell onto Fleur City. The city itself seemed calm and at peace, a complete opposite from what transpired a mere hours ago. Long after the sun had begun to set, horrid flowers of fire had sprouted throughout the city like a disease. Sucking the magic and life out of all its citizens. The people within this primavera town would’ve forever been trapped in the clutches of that fiery nightmare brought on by the Fire Lotuses, were it not for the valiant efforts of Night Raven’s finest.

Together, they had confronted the perpetrator responsible for the birth of this former parasyte, Rollo Flamme, defeated him and used the Salvation magic of the City’s Bell of the same name to eradicate the vile plague before it would spread to all of Twisted Wonderland.

In the end, they all celebrated at the city’s Noble Bell College Lecture Hall, closing off the school’s Arcane Field Trip with the highly anticipated Masquerade. After that, everyone had retired for the evening, so they may be prepared for their eventual return to their school life.

Thinking back to all that happened made it impossible for one little soul to sleep. The soul of Meryu Melenas, Night Raven College’s lone Reyvateil, could not fall back asleep at all. Her mind was still racing from all that transpired. The tour, the square, the outbreak, the fall…almost losing her dearest Prince to death. All of it consumed her mind so badly, the poor girl couldn’t even think straight. 

Meryu hated the fact that she was powerless to stop the fire lotus. She had attempted once to use her songs, only for the blasted plants to try and choke her voice out. She loathed not noticing the signs when Rollo was telling her his thoughts on magic and how the world was better off without it. She felt useless…again.

Getting up from the bed Noble Bell offered to her for their stay, Meryu grabbed the coat from her NRC uniform and quietly stepped out of the room. Since Grim had stayed the night with Deuce it made it much easier for her to leave. Making sure she did not disturb anyone else sleeping in their rooms, with the grace of a ballet dancer she walked past the living quarters and further into the school halls. 

Wandering the enormous, stained glass window halls of Noble Bell College, Meryu marveled at the beauty of the moon’s soft light shining past the colored window planes. She thought once again to the Masquerade where she danced and jumped with everyone to Malleus’s tribute song. It was enchanting, both the dance and his song. It felt like she was healed by his singing like she has to him and everyone during her time in this world.

Before she knew it, her feet had guided her to the very Lecture Hall where everything started. Gazing above to the ceiling, beyond the paintings detailing the beauty of Fleur City, was the Bell of Salvation. An Artifact that she had noted to have the same SH-Waves of Infel Phira back home in Ar Tonelico and the Dark Mirror back at school. She closed her eyes and clasped her hands together, praying to the enchanted Bell. 

‘Oh Holy Bell, I wish for you to sing with me this night. Would you please join me?’

The soft chimes from above signaled to the young Song Mage that they would love to.

‘Thank you…’

A melody began to play, giving Meryu the chance to perform her serenade.

~xA rre exail sarr wLYErm anw sphaela/. xA sorr aLYEuk zess l.l.n. anw aje harphe/. xA sorr aLYEuk zess y.y. Ahiew_ayulsa/.~

Through her song, she hoped and wished for it to heal everyone within this City of Flowers.

~xU rre rhaplanca hLYEmYAmArU enw raklya en yLYEzAtU, jLYEwA dejuy an arhou tes 1001 Implanta/.~

Her body began to glow; a warm light filled with love encompassing her and her song. Wisps of the light took on a phantasmic form; a Will of Wonderland.

~Hana wo sanji shu ni someta yubi de Hitai wo kazaru toge wo ande~ ~Watashi wa ima shokuzai no shirushi Ibara no tsuru no kauburi itadaku~ ~Hohotsutai ochiru shizuku Kawaita daichi ni somite~

She swayed with the tune, slowly dancing about with the fainted Will within the Bell.

~Inochi no me uruosu you Ame to narite sosogitai Anata ni~

As the Will danced with her, it began to drop small golden orbs into the ground…

~Kono mune no naka afururu Hikari maioriru~ ~Inori no tane wa kagayou Kiseki ni mebuku~

Each one became a small wave that flew into the school walls. The waves then became pulses that flew beyond the campus walls and expanded into the sleeping city. As this happened, Meryu began to recall the moment the fire lotuses bloomed and Rollo showing his true colors.

~xN rre harr f.s. tes maoh ess ouvyu sechel/. :/xO rre qejyu m.t.y.y. anw daedu/. Naave wEsLYN ayulsa sphaela/. xE rre vega a.u.k. ayulsa Asiance_qejyu/:~

Almost as if it’s reenacting Malleus's actions from the Fall, the Bell’s Will embraced the Reyvateil and sang together with her.

~xN rre Maoh s.s.w. tie Rhaplanca enw h.k.t.t. has./~ (:/Reta yorr tYAnu za j.d.r. gor Ajues_qejyu./ sYAIA Atitia_qejyu, Reta yorr hYArAnAt oucc/.)

The shift in the air from the Bell had unknowingly awoken some of the School's inhabitants. Including a certain fae prince.

(:xU yorr vUsUk 1000 Aujes_qejyu wYAfA za rYAfrm 1001 Atitia_qejyu en vYAsk yor/:)

Meryu, feeling more at ease with the nightmares gone as fast as they appeared, continued on with her blessing.

~Shiroki ashi de deido wo fumishime Tsubasa was tsui kegaruru tomo~ ~Watashi was tada inochi hatsuru made, Asu wo shinjite kanata e Habataku~ ~Aganai wa itsuka tabi no Subete wo oeru sono hibi ni~

The newly awakened group watched Meryu's performance from afar. Some musing at her typical actions. Others were mesmerized by her singing as they had dozens of times. And while one was bewildered by what he saw, the boy next to him was silent, taking it all he was hearing from the lone woman.

~Hatenaki negai utaou Omoi kasaneau~ ~Tsunaida yubi wa ikue no Hanabira no you ni~

The passion within her voice was strong, tears suddenly started to form in her eyes. Even from far away, the smallest of the audience saw them and booked it towards her. Leading to the others to follow suit.

~Kono mune no naka afururu Hikari furisosoge~ ~Negai nokigi wa itsushika Sora eto todoku~

In the climax of their song, the Bell and Reyvateil sung together once more.

(xN herra h.r.n.t. ane sphaela ttu y.y. 1000 hiewi meryu/. xN harr v.s.k. nafa eje en Atitia_qejyu enw h.r.n.t./.) ~xN rre Rhaplanca y.y. eh 1001 Atitita_qejyu, en harr w.n.s. anw ouvyu sechel sev maen olo/.~

~xN harr h.l.s.s. ess ouvyu sechel/. :/xU rre vega a.u.k. zz ayulsa siance/. xU rre vega a.u.k. zodal sechel/:~ ~xN harr y.z.t. en y.z.t. enw raklya/. :/mAtUyYAy 1001 Implanta/:~

The last notes faded away into a whisper, carried off by the wind. the sound of bell chimes echoing through the Lecture Hall. 

When she opened her dewey eyes, Meryu felt something paw at her leg. She looked down and saw Grim looking up at her with worry. She leaned down to scoop him in her arms and hugged him close. Seeing Deuce and Epel rush to her side surprised Meryu even more, causing her to see that the whole NRC group had come down to the Lecture Hall. Even Prof. Trein and Rollo were with them, something that shocked her just as much as seeing her classmates. 

As some of the boys came to her to praise or reprimand the Song Mage, Malleus had stayed silent. All throughout her solo performance he had listened to her words carefully, imprinting each one in his heart. He knew what each melodic note coming from his dearest is what she truly felt deep down.

And for that he was grateful. 

Malleus stepped forward to meet her, the others moving away for him to face the young woman. No words were exchanged, only actions as he embraced his beloved Reyvateil, knowing that was enough to express his thanks to her and her song of healing.

[e1i-neverrests]

A Rowdy Raven And A Daring Dog

A silly lighthearted drabble for Vesuvia Weekly prompt “Date With Disaster” featuring Lys, Julian, and a little bit of Asra! Takes place post-main game. Alternatively titled “Two idiots walk into a bar”

A/N: The date itself was platonic, because who doesn't like taking your friends out for a few drinks? (I wouldn't know, I'm not allowed to drink yet)

May get a drawing, we’ll have to see

“What in the world happened to you two?” Asra asks in utter bafflement at the state of his friend and lover, the latter being unceremoniously dropped from the former’s arms and onto the doorstep. One is covered in dirt, the other sustaining a few bruises, and both entirely too drunk.

“Nothing the palace can prove!” Julian pipes up just a bit too loud, his usual roguish grin more askew than it ought to be. The sober magician just stares incredulously. “Is that meant to be reassuring..?”

“No no no, here, if you really want to know, it all starts,,, okay, just- just listen- it all…” The other magician interjecting from his spot on the floor, trailing off as he tries to support himself against the doorframe and hauling himself upright.

Julian interjects Lys’ interjection with his own less slurred speech, jumping into his explanation. “What he means to say is it all started earlier this very eve!”

[OooOoo flashback SFX]

Lys and Julian enter the Rowdy Raven, a sea of unfamiliar and unfriendly faces swivel towards them. Immediately, a pair of dastardly ne'er do wells come up and-

“That’s not what happened, don't listen to him!” Lys sways on his feet, now holding onto the Doctor instead of the door. He pats his hand on the taller man's cheek. “This… This malpracticing fiend embellishes far too much. Here, let- lemme tell you instead!” “Hey, I do not commit malpractice!”

[oOoooO more flashback SFX]

The two walk into the Rowdy Raven, a few of the regulars immediately recognising Julian. They beckon the pair over, immediately posing a challenge. “20 coins says the short one drinks you under the table!” “I'll bet 5 on the magician!” “No way, Devorak will win for sure! 50 coins!”

Never one to back down from a friendly competition, Lys is happy to take the bet. Julian, confident in his own abilities, is also on-board. Soon the whole tavern is circled around the bar, bets placed and breaths held. The count-down begins, and they're off!

“None other than yours truly came out victorious.” Julian beams, as though this were an achievement to be proud of. “Uh huh, but at what cost?” Lys cuts in, snickering. “People were upset I lost —apparently a lot of them bet on me?— so a fight broke out.”

“Those fiends attacked me for winning! The scoundrels! Dare I say… The audacity!” The doctor brings a hand to his chest, turning his head away as if he couldn't bear the memory of it.“That part is true, mhm. Buut, dear Devorak here forgot the most important part where-”

“Where a dashing magician swooped to my rescue!” Julian interrupts, his eye somehow sparkling at the heroic memory. The magician in question just rolls his eyes. “I… Well, I guess, technically yes. But after that, I was having trouble walking and fell, but we… we’re- were being chased, so he picked me up, and, well, uh, here we are!”

Asra cannot believe what they've heard. Actually, no, they entirely believe it, they just wish they didn't. But it sounds like they had fun, and that's what matters most. “So long as you're both okay now. Just… Remind me to never let you two go unsupervised for too long.”

Faust pokes her head out from Asra's collar, leveling herself with Julian. Squeeze? She tilts her head in request. Except, as soon as he sees her purple snake self, he's backing away from the door and out of Lys' reach. Which does cause the shorter man to stumble with his main support being yanked away

“I believe that's my cue! Farewell, friends!” The drunken doctor bows dramatically as he walks backwards away from the shop, nearly tripping over himself in the process. He slips off into the night with as much grace as he can muster. The two magicians and one familiar watch him go with amusement.

“Bye bye Julian!!” Lys waves him off, then turns to his white haired companion, currently holding him upright. “And… Hello you.”

“Hello to you too, sweetheart. Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?”

[celli-ohs]

2024 Tumblr Wrapped

saw @suhnandmoon do this and thought 'omg me next!' bc yall 2024 was an exciting year for me on tumblr!! yall don't even know but I was shadowbanned for YEARS!!! i just thought I was having technical difficulties... oopsies! finally got unbanned so I could post and be active again lol 2024 was also the year I got back into kpop, everyone say thank you txt!! huening kai really pulled me outta the gutter of what was 2023 anyways cheers to all my fanfic/smau writers out there!! happy new year and looking forward to many more fics <3 <3

2024 fanfic stats!

number of works posted

2 series, 2 smaus, 4 drabbles, and 1 fic (she's unfinished tho... does that count?)

fics in progress

oh god.. 3... but i have so many notes on future wips tho (how yall feel about boynextdoor??)

total words written:

roughly about 37,000! lot less than i thought but i've been doing more smaus than i planned on

top 5 posts

nepo baby (nishimura riki x reader) the way this one blew tf up...

nepo baby pt.2 (nisihimura riki x reader)

11:40 pm (sim jaeyun x reader)

hubba hubba! (choi yeonjun x reader)

awooga! (choi soobin x reader)

most recent fic

yeowza! (choi beomgyu x reader)

longest fic

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal (she's my only written series/full fic so far)

favorite fic i wrote

ugh this is so hard. I don't know I don't knowwwww! Maybe hubba hubba! bc I feel like I got a lot better at writing/forming smaus and it was fun to create! but I also love love my kai drabble,, he's so silly and cute hehe

goal for 2025

i was gonna say get better at writing smut but honestly I just want to finish my two series so I can write more and more!!

fav fics i read this year

you plus me by @paarksunghoon

this changed my life. genuinely. I CRIED reading this. I am a different woman than I once was after reading this fic.

dance with me, baby by @suhnandmoon

oh this is hands down one of my faves and you know its good bc I was literally recommending/telling my normie friends about it lmaoo I cannot unsee loser heeseung now

home for the bitchless by @hannie-dul-set

i reread this constantly. i strive to be this chaotic. also i love pathetic men.

half return by @heesdreamer

oh i love me some softie jay like seriously i love himm, i lovE HIMMMMM

sundered by @tojikai

for my gojo lovers and anime enthusiasts i don’t usually do angst but this one had a chokehold on me!

idk who to tag as i don't have many moots but yall do this lol its fun and I think it highlights your accomplishments as a creator!! happy new year!! (also peep the newjeans bubblegum inspired theme hehe 🙈)

[wordstome]

YOUR König thoughts are some xgame shit oh em goodness “Aside from the fact he’s hung like a horse” YOU DID NOT. That’s disgusting. You should be ashamed. (I agree wholeheartedly)

But it got me thinking about König meeting a sniper!Reader? Cannot be a healthy dynamic but I’m a sucker for emotionally dysfunctional men.

Imagine you show up one day, butt unceremoniously into his life and introduce yourself in a way that drums up an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. He’s all too smitten and then your introduction has to go and end with ‘-and I’ll be joining the team as a resident sniper’. Those butterflies in his stomach turn into a weight on his heart.

Why you of all people? He was rejected and reassigned. His long-term aspirations snuffed out like nothing. Meanwhile, you complain about the bruising below your clavicle? Ridiculous, stupid thing you are to be so ungrateful.

Doesn’t matter if you actually aren’t whining as much as he thinks you are. From the minute he finds out what position you’re taking, everything he says and does is vindictive and downright rude. He doesn’t do it consciously and afterwards his internal monologue is just a running cycle of ‘why did I say/do that?’ Not to mention the dent in his wall from banging his head against it lmaoo

His regret doesn’t stop the impulse to make snide comments that fray your nerves. More than they already are just by being proximal to the huge man, that is. What you were experiencing at his hand was unnervingly like how he was treated was back in school. Or going through basic training with COs screaming up at him and degrading him.

It takes you finally sitting him down, the built-up exasperation at his behaviour driving you to be a lot more imposing to him that someone of your size should’ve been, for him to sort out his feelings. After acknowledging that he really had nothing against you (besides jealousy) that initial feeling of fixation returns.

A couple months of annoyance too late, if your huff of irritation was any indicator. It’ll take him awhile to get over that built-up resentment, none of which is technically your fault, but you can figure out some kind of union fwb situation? Right?

It would make such a good slow burn sobbing and rolling but that was completely unnecessary no idea where that came from. I’m so glad my cod interest and my fanfiction writing era didn’t overlap because I would be working like a dog on full-length novels about these men omg

-Dented and Recruited anon 🫡

MY FAVORITE ANON GRACES MY INBOX AGAIN...look, it's not my fault, they literally gave him a bulge. Is it just protective equipment? Probably! But you can't tell me a 6'5"-10" man doesn't have a dick to match. Come ONNNNN

*ahem* wow. Anyway . you GET IT. you GET IT! ! ! ! angel of small death was the first König drabble I ever did, and I still plan on returning to it!!! This is exactly the sort of dynamic I wanted to put in AAAAAAAAA I'm in love!! König sabotaging his damn self...yea we gotta make this man squirm. I will write these ideas for you babe but if you ever do feel a little bit of that writing era overlap coming on I will be the first in line to read what you've got stored in that brilliant brain 👀

[imtrashraccoon]

I've been looking forward to this one for so long! We're in the home stretch now folks! The following drabbles may be long as there's quite a bit of plot to wrap up, but my offer for bonus chapters still stands. Feel free to message me if you want to see something expanded on!

@scrambledmeggys

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Day 25: Proposal

Time seemed to pass quickly, despite how little your routine varied from day to day. Things had been good though over the past couple months. You could confidently say you were now friends with Undyne and Alphys, as you'd become rather desperate to socialize with other people besides the brothers and Frisk.

Both girls had been working to find an alternative way to break the barrier, well Alphys was doing most of the technical bits, but Undyne was assisting where she could and helping to support her. While they hadn't come up with anything concrete yet, you had discovered the interesting tidbit of information that it would take a thousand monster souls to equal the power of one human soul.

To say your mind was blown was an understatement. You'd had no idea the power difference was that great and frankly, you'd been under the impression that Monsters were far stronger than humans because of their magic. Then again, you didn't know of any humans who could use magic so you had no scale to measure the power difference to. Well, Frisk was an outlier as far as you could tell and they couldn't explain why they were different either.

Speaking of Frisk, Sans had started bringing them out to his sentry station for short periods of time to hang out or just get some fresh air, much to their delight and your dismay. While you knew it wasn't fair to keep them indoors forever, you still worried someone or something could happen to them. Still, you trusted Sans would keep them safe and you knew that they wouldn't give up easily if something bad did happen.

Papyrus had been more willing to take you outside on small errands, at first it was only on rare occasions, but with Frisk being more occupied as a result of hanging out with Sans, you had been more than willing to go with him. You still had to disguise your appearance but no one seemed to question your presence when Papyrus was around at least. You felt like you were almost becoming a regular part of the community, almost.

It seemed like Frisk had gone with Sans again today as neither were around the house. Papyrus had left early as well, leaving you home alone, something you weren't used to.

Frankly, the thought of living alone was terrifying to you as even after moving away from home for college, you'd had Terrence as a roommate. After what had happened, you didn't think it would be healthy for you, especially with how you'd been trying to deal with the grief.

When you entered the kitchen this morning, you found something interesting. On the kitchen table was a small ceramic pot with a large glowing blue flower planted in it.

For a moment you stood there in the entryway to the kitchen, just staring at the mysterious blossom. You'd never seen any plant like this before and for a moment you wondered if it was glowing because it was magical or because it was bioluminescent.

You examined it curiously, checking it out from all angles, but couldn't determine if it really was magical. Carefully, you touched it's petals but in doing so, you accidentally disturbed the center of the blossom. As soon as you had, a slightly distorted but undeniably familiar voice echoed from within.

Precious, I Cannot Picture A Future Without You As It Just Feels Right In My Soul. So I Have One Thing To Ask...

You were awestruck, both by the talking flower and the message it had contained. Hearing footsteps from behind, you turned to find Papyrus had apparently been home all along. He looked so happy and there seemed to be a hopeful glimmer in his scarlet eyelights that you hadn't really seen before.

As soon as you made eye contact, he paused a few feet away from you. "Would You Be Willing To Bind Our Souls Together?" he asked softly.

You blinked as your mind scrambled to decipher what he meant by this. It certainly felt like a marriage proposal but it was also different from any human proposals you'd ever heard of. What even did he mean by binding your souls together? Was it literal? Or was it more of a figurative bond?

Papyrus seemed to take your hesitation as a negative response and you watched him visibly deflate. He couldn't tell how confused you were and that you still weren't familiar with most Monster traditions.

You waved your hands desperately and quickly tried to reassure him. "Sweetie, no, it's okay... I'm not... Sorry, I'm not saying no, okay?" Feeling rather embarrassed, you added, "I just don't know what it means..."

He seemed to have a sudden realization and ran a hand down his face. "I Am So Sorry, I Completely Forgot You Would Not Know," he groaned.

You chuckled and moved closer to him. Putting your hand on his arm, you smiled gently. "Hey, it's alright, really. I've heard of a Soul Bond before, but it was always in fiction, and I never knew it was actually a thing until now."

"Well, It Is Fairly Self-explanatory. Monsters Who Decide They Want To Be Together For The Rest Of Their Lives Form A Bond Or Tether Between Their Souls."

You pursed your lips thoughtfully, "So, from what you're saying, soul bonding seems similar to human marriage."

"I Would Not Know," Papyrus chuckled. "But Humans Cannot Use Magic Anymore, Right?"

"Not to my knowledge at least."

"Then I Should Also Tell You That Completing A Soul Bond Comes With Quite A Few Benefits To Both Partners," he said, seemingly back to his usual smug self now that the awkward atmosphere had disappeared.

"Besides A Boost To Magic, You Will Be Able To Sense My Emotional State And Strong Emotions When We Are Apart. This Means We Will Be Able To Tell If The Other Is Hurt Or In Danger." Papyrus smiled and added, "There Are A Few Others, But They Are Not As Relevant And I Will Tell You About Them Later If You Still Want To Accept."

"I'm assuming it's a bad idea to break the Soul Bond, right?"

He nodded seriously and frowned. "Very, Most Cases Of Doing So Result In Death For Both Individuals. It Really Depends How The Bond Was Broken Though."

You nodded thoughtfully and considered all this new information. While you were a bit nervous about what this could mean, especially in the future, you knew in your soul that you wanted this. The prospect of spending the rest of your life with the person you'd connected with the most made you feel overjoyed.

You looked up at him and grinned. "Yes, Papyrus, I am willing to Soul Bond with you."

You'd never seen him so happy before and you swear his eyelights morphed into tiny hearts. He practically swept you off your feet and gave you a tight hug. You couldn't help but laugh and hug him back as tightly as you could.

"I Want To Make It Special For You, But When The Time Comes And If You Still Feel The Same, I Want You To Know That You Have Just Made Me The Happiest Monster In The Underground," Papyrus murmured softly.

"If you're the happiest monster, than I'm the happiest human," you chuckled. "I'm really looking forward to this."

[cloudbattrolls]

O Sleeper

Cyvell Xranth | Present Night | Sunrest Realm

This drabble is preceded by Hazey and followed by Come, Sister, Come.

Dry heat washed over Cyvell as it did every time she visited Tobria’s realm. It wasn’t to her taste, but she could hardly complain. She hadn’t the right by caste, nor by social obligation. 

She stood on four legs in her true form as she stepped onto the sand, a large, slender doglike beast with many eyes and rodlike protrusions, her long tail twitching back and forth. Her sickle-shaped claws sunk into the grains, and a light breeze tossed some of the expanse into the air.

The angel-fae dwelled in a small world made to look like ancient Alternia, right before that wretched fuchsia had conquered it all. Before the conqueror had pressed every other race on the planet back, made them all hide, hunted her kind’s own mages until they were a shadow of what they’d once been.

Faint stars hung in the perpetual dusk sky, fixed in the form of constellations that had shone back then. The air was untainted by the fumes of troll factories or vehicles. Cyvell took a moment to breathe it in. It might be too hot for her liking, harder to push through her lungs, but at least it was pure. 

She remembered when she and Tobria had first spun it out of the void, millennia ago. One of their first places, small but safe. An oasis. One they’d had to flee to often enough, back when they’d been hunted.

Shadowy low-caste fae swirled in the air around her, just barely visible as dark, translucent purplish and orange hazes against the air. Messengers for her and Tobria. 

Technically only his…but he hardly minded if she commanded them. 

He’d hardly minded for thousands of sweeps.

“Is he asleep?” She asked them, quietly.

They moved in rapid patterns incomprehensible to any troll, but the fae of anthrax understood perfectly, her tail flicking.

“Tell him I am here. Tell him the time of malediction is almost upon us. As he foresaw when the Muted first began to arm the empire.”

Surely this would rouse him. Surely he would stay awake, after all this time.

She had tried for so long. 

The shadows moved in what she would almost call hesitance. They were simple beings…but they could still think, could reason to an extent. Their instincts were keen.

Tobria mourns, they whispered.

“He has always mourned.” Cyvell muttered. “The Fireseer knows nothing but lamentation now.” 

She knew her bitter words weren’t entirely true, and it hurt her to speak them. The shadows flickered resentfully at her partial inaccuracy. But she cared little for the pain, or for their disdain.

“Tell him a Varzim is going rogue.” She whispered. “Pestilence hunts him. This time the horseman is on our side. It will be different.” 

Careful, Anthrax, whispered the shades. Conquest obeys their fuchsia master before us.

“Pestilence obeys us.” She corrected. “The Mycobas do not conquer anymore.”

They cannot deny their original nature. Beware the plague bringer. Their loyalties are elsewhere. 

Cyvell made a disdainful noise, halfway between a snort and a bark.

It didn’t matter who or what Pestilence was ultimately loyal to. They were doing their duty, just as they should. The current rider might be flippant and disrespectful at times, but they had no love for the empire. It was the most tolerable thing about them.

“I can feel your words, Cyvell.”

She felt more than heard the response. Like a flare of heat arcing through her body, like spices in her mouth, flecks of ash on her skin.

She forced her fur to lie flat. Now was no time to get overexcited.

“Fireseer.” She whispered, unable to keep a tinge of hope from her voice. “Do you accept my truths? Will you look into the sun once more?”

“For what, Cyvell?” Said the ancient, weary voice. “If the malediction is here, tell the others to hide. It will tear through us, scattering our ashes.”

Her long ears flattened.

“Help us, Fireseer. We should fight! We must resist the horrorterror corruption, driving the world out of balance! You can burn it away!”

“Leave me.”

The fae of anthrax wanted to scream as the heat, the feeling of the voice lessened. She hadn’t even gotten close to him this time.

Sometimes she could. Once in a great while, Tobria could be reasoned with, learned from. He would let her by his side as he spoke of both the past and multiple possible futures, his feathered and cuticle wings gleaming in the dusk. 

She had learned how to weave world-gates from him, born of frost and flame alike. They had built so much together when she was young, watching fae of all kinds travel through the passages they shaped from the fabric of reality.

Passages that had, over the millennia, crumbled and faded despite her best efforts.

She could not fix them alone.

“I will wake you.” She whispered, and the shadows did not cascade in disdain.

Instead they fluttered in reverence, understanding the power of a resolute, impassioned vow.

One to be completed even on pain of death.

[votsalot]

RULES: post the names of the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Tagged by @adamsvanrhijn! <3

There's going to be a lot of one WIP because technically it's 12 different WIPs. I cannot tag 23 people, I'm sorry :( But I will tag...some! :)

Strange Stations and the Places You Know

Go Sweetly in the Garden

Orders of Service (Prologue - 1)

Orders of Service (3) (Bar Talk / Prague)

Orders of Service (4 +5) (Spar / Castle)

Orders of Service (6 + Interlude) (Post-Gathering / Patricia)

Orders of Service (7) (Funeral)

Orders of Service (8) (Fuck Nasty)

Orders of Service (9) (Therapy)

Orders of Service (10) (Attack)

Orders of Service (11) (Alex Fight)

Orders of Service (12) (Sevarius)

Orders of Service (13 + 14) (Fox Goodbye / Alex's Loss)

Orders of Service (15) (Space-Spawn Attack / Mobilization)

SCENE LIST - Arc 1

Drabbles - Arc 2

DRABBLE SCENES - Arc 3

Drabble Scenes - Arc 4

Dr. Spock: On Parenting a Megalomaniac

Learned Touch

Three-Fold

TB and PB.docx

Untitled Document

@svankmajerbaby @lullabyes22-blog @chambergambit @mfp04

[writing-inthestars]

Intro!

hi! we're the Cosmic Cafe, aka Callisto. our main is @world-enough-and-timerogue :3

we mainly write about Doctor Who, especially TimeRogue. there's a whole discord server about it, if you didn't know! if you look on our AO3, you'll find some BNHA content as well as some OCverse content (it's called Evil Lovecore, you should definitely check it out!), but we probably won't be posting about those.

info under the cut!!

Tags:

#rated G/T/M/E - a fic's ratings! I'll probably use Rated E for any NSFW posts.

#new post! - self explanatory, new fic on AO3

#drabbles - short fics, things i wouldn't consider long enough or good enough to post on AO3 but want to show people anyways

#excerpts - clips from ongoing fics! i cannot stop sharing with the class i love attention

I'll also tag fandom, ships, characters, and genre (??? are things like angst and fluff and smut genres? what do we call those)

Directory:

Honey, Do You Need a Hot Meal? (Just Save Me Half) - Currently what I'm thinking of as my magnum opus. Rogue's rescue, regeneration energy, telepathy, and a bath! More to come, plus a sidefic (I wanted to keep it rated T lol). Title from Your Body, My Temple by Will Wood

I'd Swear That I'm Holding The Sun - TimeRogue secret Santa gift! Human AU, biker!Doctor falls in love with coffee shop owner!Rogue. Title from j's lullaby by Delaney Bailey

Don't Go Where I Can't Follow - What if the Doctor went through the triform with Rogue? Title is not a lyric, as far as I know

Delicious in TARDIS idfk - First timerogue fic I posted. Rogue being horrible at taking care of himself and the Doctor being #1 tummy enjoyer. I'd be surprised if this title was a lyric.

my god. these bitches gay. good for them - Just straight up porn. idk what to tell you

WIPs:

HDYNAHM(JSMH) - technically a WIP. I planned it to be a oneshot, but then I thought of some extensions.

Oh, Brother (Man, You Call That Recovered?) - Slightly abandoned WIP although I do come back to it when I'm sad! Because It Is A Sad Fic. I mostly left it to die because it had Capt. Jack as Rogue's old partner and I don't like that headcanon anymore.

Strangers In The Night - I don't wanna tell too much about this one! but it's a sweet story. That's what it is.

Red Wine Supernova - Another straight up porn fic

[I don't have a name for this one it's in my google docs as "....... a tesseract."] - also porn. the doctor has a gun kink. if you get the reference with the name ily

[also don't have a name for this I've been calling it "Fobwatch"] - Quinn and Rogue Kerris live peacefully in their home on the Scottish countryside, living their lives and discussing Quinn's strange dreams, when one of the recurring characters in their dreams shows up at their door...

The Dreadful Need in the Devotee - The Doctor receives a sinister message on the psychic paper, showing some powerful entity is in the possession of Rogue. Before exploring a land of myth and legend, the Doctor guarantees they won't lose him again.

this should be updated whenever i post something new! hopefully!

[so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed]

17, 10, 27, 15?

Hi nonnie!

I answered 17 and 27 before!

10. What work was the quickest to write?

Technically, probably my 666 word drabbles, but I felt that wordplay week two (Run) went super fast, which is strange considering I wrote it completely on my phone while being sick with BPPD.

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

I technically still have an animation team WIP, but my primary focus is my Big Bang, which I unfortunately cannot tell you anything about because artist claims haven't happened yet! All I can say is that I desperately need to write it, because it's currently only 1.8k long.

[shnargo]

i cannot write for the life of me and i blame it entirely on beta.character.ai.

but anyways, here's a blurb that i really liked in collaboration with chara.ai with an idea that is based entirely on @softlyspector 's little drabble here (i highly recommend it :))

-

pairings: din djarin x reader warnings: none ; female!reader, 3rd POV and reader is a Jedi! also i haven't seen anything star wars beyond a few episodes of the Mandalorian, so any terms and facts here are LIKELY incorrect. word count: 1969 a/n: character.ai has me in a chokehold, but i might share more of these blurbs if people like them.

-

"Have you ever kissed someone?" She blurts before she can filter the thought, but even as she registers her own question, no embarrassment rises up to her face whatsoever. She tends to be rather straightforward when she gets tired.

Din freezes, his face expressionless. 

He takes a long pause before looking away, back towards her as he faces the stars that streak by outside of the cockpit. He seems to need a few moments to consider his words. 

“Yes,” he says, “why?”

She shrugs, "Just curious I guess. I know 'the Way' doesn't allow you to take off your helmet just to anyone. Though now I'm wondering who the lucky person was." She grins mischievously.

His face tenses as she brings up ‘The Way,’ seemingly annoyed by the topic, he turns to look at her again with a frown that can be felt even through his helmet. 

“It’s not just a tradition, it’s a way of life. I was raised in a clan of Mandalorians, and my people have a very strong code of honor that I live by,” he says, his voice stern. 

He takes a deep breath and continues, “As for who I dated, it was someone I met when I was younger. We didn’t work out.”

She can hear the annoyance creep into his tone despite the voice modulator in his helmet, and she shrinks back ever so slightly. "Ah okay." Her answer's short, and it's obvious by her body language, apologetic.

He seems to soften as he sees the effect of his words. 

“It’s okay. It really is. I just… I take my honor seriously, and I take it personally when people belittle me for it,” he tells her, “I apologize if I sounded like I was yelling at you.”

Din’s shoulders relax, and his voice turns gentle as he continues, “You have the right to ask those questions. It’s just… a sensitive topic.”

She nods thoughtfully, "I didn't mean to come off as belittling, I was just genuinely curious." She explains, "But I'll be sure not to be so careless next time."

She glances up at him again, "And if it makes you uncomfortable, I can stop asking those kinds of questions." She means it genuinely from a place of care.

He smiles, “It’s okay. You’re curious, and I shouldn’t take that as an attack. It’s just…how did your Jedi master respond to you dating, I mean, do the Jedi have rules about that sort of thing?” 

Din cocks his head to the side as if trying to understand how the Jedi’s rules would function when it comes to their members becoming romantically involved.

"Ah, yeah, there's a whole thing with Jedis too." She chuckles. "We're not allowed to marry, or get romantically involved with others. Strong emotions can be used as a weakness to the dark side." She pauses after that, before softly adding, "But uh, technically speaking, kissing is fine. Long as it's nothing serious."

Din looks thoughtful while she speaks, “So you’re saying there’s an approved degree of emotional involvement, so long as you don’t lose your focus on the light side of the force?”

"Yeah essentially, though all that stuff I mentioned is part of the old order. More traditional, so to speak." She shrugs, "Still what I was taught though."

Din nods, “I see. And those rules are still in effect for modern Jedi, yes?” 

He looks at her curiously, “What do you think of those old rules? Do you think they’re still necessary?” 

He seems genuinely curious to hear her perspective.

"Hm, yes and no." She pauses, glancing around shiftily, "Call me a hypocrite, but I think forcefully suppressing your emotions might just end up accomplishing the same bad thing." She whispers conspiratorially, but in a joking way.

Din is a little surprised by her answer, but he nods and smiles, “I totally agree. If anything, you should be encouraged to express your emotions, even if you’re a Jedi, right? Suppressing them completely just seems…unhealthy.” 

He shakes his head with a slight chuckle, “Then again, I’m not a Jedi, so what do I know?"

She looks curious again when he says that though, "Does that thought process apply the same to what you think of Mandalorian traditions?" She asks cautiously, "I'm asking out of curiosity." She clarifies.

Din is quiet for a moment, “I mean, some of our traditions are pretty…archaic, as you might say,” he replies, seeming to be picking his words carefully. 

“Like the rules regarding helmet removal. But other parts of the code are good, we’re supposed to value honor and duty, for example. Not just to ourselves, but to our clans and our people. I’d definitely say those parts are necessary.”

"Yeah, of course." She can't help but wonder.. "Can I ask who exactly you're allowed to show your face to though?"

Din sighs, “It’s complicated. Basically, it’s people that are closest to me. My family, so my parents and sisters, and my closest friends. My clan members, because they’re pretty much family, and of course Grogu. I can’t really show it to anyone else, though I might consider doing it for…a partner.” 

He stares down at the control board of the Crest, his face slightly red underneath the helmet, “That said, it’s not something I’d do casually.”

"That makes sense." She says with a nod. She interprets that reaction as maybe she's making him uncomfortable, so she decides not to push any further with the topic.

But as they sit in silence for a few minutes and she gets more sleepy, she can't keep herself from asking softly, "Hypothetically, could you take your helmet off around someone who has their eyes closed? Or who's blind?"

Din thinks for a second. 

“I think so. I’m a little shaky on how that part of the code works. My parents taught me never to remove it unless I’ve got a reason,” he answers truthfully and earnestly, trying to be helpful. 

Din laughs, “Now you’ve got me wondering,” he says with a smile, “Any particular reason why you’re asking?”

In her sleepy state, she almost admits the fact she's curious about the whole thing because the thought of kissing him has crossed her mind a few times before. But she bites her tongue before the words can escape her. She gives an unconvincing shrug and says, "Just wondering." instead.

Din isn’t stupid, he can see through that ‘just wondering’ a mile away. 

He turns to look at her, raising an eyebrow under his helmet, “You can say what’s on your mind, ya know? I wouldn’t care if you were curious about that,” his tone is reassuring as he gives her permission to ask.

She pauses to consider the offer. But really, she's scared of what might happen if he rejects her, since she really enjoys the current relationship they have now, not matter how ambiguously it lies on the scale of platonic to romantic. She just gives another shrug, pretending she's too tired by now.

Din sighs internally. Just say it, you idiot. He thinks.

Instead of pushing for an answer, he decides to try a different tactic. He turns back forward and says in a casual, casual manner, “Do you know the Mandalorian way of flirting?” 

He seems to have gone off on a tangent, as if it’s not an obvious lead-up, but he stares out the window of the Crest in the direction of the stars. “It’s called Jol’ey, you show your interest for someone by offering them your helmet.”

"Jol'ey?" She repeats the Mando'a term with a curious lilt in her tone. "How can you offer someone your helmet if you're not supposed to take it off though?" She can't help but ask.

Din chuckles, “Right, you caught me on that one, huh?” he says, looking at her again. 

“I’m not sure how exactly the practice started, but the meaning of it is basically you’re offering them a part of you, of your most private self, not just physically but spiritually. You’re making an important and very personal gesture to show them you care about them, deeply.”

She can't help but smile as well as she considers the idea, "I think that's actually kinda cute." It's an expression of love, but in a more meaningful and symbolic way, she thinks.

“Yeah,” his face softens under the helmet, and his voice turns almost soft at the edges for a moment, “it’s a very personal thing to do, so it’s not something Mandalorian do casually. Like I said, there are rules, and it’s a pretty serious thing to do. But I’d argue that there’s no stronger way for Mandalorian to express affection for someone.”

She nods a little, not exactly sure how to respond to that verbally other than a yeah or an okay. She is starting to wonder.. why did he bring that up all of a sudden though? And it becomes obvious by her expression.

The meaning of what Din just told her seems to be setting in, and at the same time she has a question on her mind. 

“Hypothetically, if I did offer you my helmet, would you accept?” Din’s voice is gentle as he asks her, “What do you think about that?”

She blinks a few times, letting the question settle for a moment. A beat of nerve racking silence passes between them and her expression morphs into shock at the implications he just explained to her.

"I think," she starts slowly with an ever softer voice than before, "..I would accept."

"Really?" Din asks, a smile creeping onto his face as he talks. 

He sets the Crest on autopilot, turning his seat to face her. 

In a whisper, and still speaking casually, he asks, "Would you want me to offer it to you?"

She's surprised as she sees him turn to her, and goes to do the same as red creeps up to her cheeks.

"Hypothetically," She continues with the term, though really it's more than just a 'hypothetical' and he knows that, "I would want that.. a lot." She almost whispers those last couple words.

Din laughs and says, "You can lose the hypotheticals now," he says playfully as he leans in. 

"I'd be happy to give you my helmet." He says the words plainly, as if he's just stating a fact, "But...do you know what it means to be a Mando'ade partner? It's...not just about romance."

Her cheeks redden further when he leans in, but she nods at his question.

"Is it the kind of thing that would break the old order's Jedi Code?" She says with a little smile, meaning the kind of attachment that would be 'dangerous' but incredibly deep and meaningful.

“Yeah, Jedi’s have rules about attachment, but in Mandalorian culture, attachment is basically the whole point. Attachment to your family, your clan, you’re friends, the land and culture. Attachment isn’t just tolerated, it’s encouraged, and there’s no greater attachment than being a Mando’ade.” 

He leans in closer and gives her one last choice, “You sure you want me to do that?”

Honestly, the very fact he's offering, makes it all the more touching. Her expression softens as she nods again.

"Sounds like you're proposing to me, Din." She says his name with gentle fondness, "Even so, I would say yes."

Din laughs. “Yeah, it is kinda like a marriage proposal in Mando culture. Except it’s more like a promise of complete devotion and care,” he says as he pulls his helmet off. 

He gives her another quick smile, his face reddened a bit as he gives her his helmet, “I’ve never done this for anyone else, so consider this my way of showing you what you’re worth to me. You mean a lot to me, and I want you to know it.”

masterlist

[midnight-dreams-world]

This was incredibleee. “And you guys say I talk too much” they are absolutely adorable. Then Bugsy calling Spencer honey… I love them.

I’ll be honest, after you released the little drabble where Bugsy was playing volleyball with Morgan, every time I hear So High School by Taylor Swift I cannot help but think of Bugsy and Spence. Especially the line where she sings “you know how to ball, I know Aristotle”. I know that they’re both smart so technically the second line applies to them both but hopefully you know what I mean. I only had that one song on repeat while reading this.

Then Spence following her like a dog, I kept thinking of that tiktok sound “walk him like a dog sis, walk him like a dog.” I don’t know why but I’m a sucker for men following their women like lost little puppies.

Bugsy calling Spence a stripper and then a porn star. Her sneaking out of the window and also having JJ saved as MILF. Golden. Absolutely amazing. Then JJ asking her to tell her that the photo was meant for a guy or at least Penelope. I love how her sending a picture of herself in lingerie to Penelope would be seen as normal😭😭😭

Then Penelope asking about Sean in front of Hotch, then him running off, and Rossi saying old man number two doesnt want to hear about who jiggles your jimmies either. I have no idea how you come up with that stuff but it’s amazing. Then Hotch shouting that the cupboards are full.

Also Penelope comparing them to the whole Anniston-Pitt-Joley affair but then calling the William and Kate. I’m not even lying, right before reading this, an edit of William and Kate came up on my fyp. Then Penelope calling Morgan big daddy.

Then Hotch calling her honey and sweetheart, as well as Blake calling her honey. I think I just melted when I read those scenes. Also, him leaning over to grab the seatbelt for her. I don’t know if you ever watched The Last of Us but I immediately thought of the scene where Joel leans over Ellie to grab the seatbelt for her too. And then Hotch selfishly wanting her to stay just so she would be safe and her being his favourite. I love love love the father-daughter bond that they have. I also love the constant comparisons between Jack and Bugsy that you write for Hotch. I think after Bugsy and Spencer, the Hotch and Bugsy scenes might just be my favourite. I absolutely adore the way you write those two together.

This was absolutely incredible so thank you for writing this and deciding to share it with us💖🥰 also I’m sorry for not saying it earlier but congratulations for getting into the university for your master’s degree🎉🎉🎉🥳🥳🥳

I MIGHT JUST BE IN LOVE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader [8]

GIF by fightingdragonswithwho

decription: the FIVE times they hide that they're dating + the ONE time they tell everyone

word count: 17.5k

warnings: blood, gore, usual cm stuff. FLUFF, OH GOD FLUFF. mention of sex (minors DNI in this one), no actual smut but very close to it (actual smut chapter of their first time to come soon), tiny sprinkle of angst because its ME.

author note: WE'RE BACK POOKIES. I'M SO SORRY MY BRAIN STOPPED FUNCTIONING.

previous chapter | series masterlist | next chapter

‘oh god I’m gonna marry him, if he keeps this shit up,

I might just be in la la la la la love’

The one with the revenge.

“This is so against company policy,” Bugsy murmured, her fingers twined in Spencer’s hair as he pressed urgent kisses to her neck. 

“Only if they have evidence,”  Spencer replied, his brows furrowed as she attached her lips to his fervently. They’d held it together until this point, kept the touches minimal, left the make outs and needy hands for home when they could be themselves without exposing their best kept secret to the rest of the team. But today was different. Virginia had reached an unnaturally hot peak, and the whole team had been forced to swap out their usual professional attire with something more casual. Spencer had forgone his sweaters, which had been a mourning in itself, and instead had been rolling his sleeves to his elbows in some attempt to cool his thick veins. 

Bugsy hadn’t needed to voice her opinion of the new look. Spencer wasn’t stupid, and he certainly wasn’t blind. He saw how she looped her fingertips between his, the second they had a minute alone, how her eyes trained on his hands when he drove them home, how she would press a quick peck to the back of his hand in between moments of silence when she had little more to do with her mouth. 

“Isn’t that funny, the evidence locker doesn’t have cameras, that’s almost-” She cut herself off with a jolted moan as he kissed over her collar bone, nipping so gently that it wouldn’t leave a mark. 

“And you guys say I talk too much,” Spencer said, a hint of teasing in his voice as she looked at him with a gaping mouth, learning very quickly that Spencer was a downright menace when they were sneaking around, the boy who never broke the rules, who ironed his socks and folded his underwear almost devilish at the idea of doing something in secret.

She pinched his bottom cheekily, and he jumped slightly, only to find her giggling to which he cut her off with an even harsher kiss. 

She was addictive, which was a strong claim to be made by a man like him. Yet he found himself thinking everything about her lips was laced with a toxin he couldn’t keep away from, like he’d had a taste of fresh air and couldn’t be without or he’d begin to turn bluer than Violet Beauregarde. He’d found the golden ticket, the key to the factory. For once in his life, Spencer Reid had come out the other side and won. 

Bugsy’s hands were yanking at his locks, their lips sliding against one another, and he pushed to the back of his head that they only had about three more minutes before it became suspicious that they were gone from their desks so long. 

And as if some being up in the heavens was sat back watching with popcorn, the door handle rattled as someone entered the room, and the two of them sprung away from one another. 

David Rossi strolled in, a fresh cup of coffee in his hand as he sat through his second batch of paperwork, looking for the file from the Milwaukee case to use as source material, His shirt had been unbuttoned, the Virginia heat stifling and he was already starting to regret picking a hot drink over the cold crap that wasn’t even real espresso that Penelope liked from Starbucks, yet he thought he might take anything that would cool him down when he strolled into the back room that was known for no open windows, and the sight of two sweating agents greeted him. 

Spencer’s hair was messed from where he must have ran his hand through it a bunch of times, trying to get it off his neck, Bugsy’s shirt was tucked where she probably attempted to cool herself off in the obnoxiously stuffy four walls as they both flicked through separate files, standing about ten feet apart from one another. 

“It’s a hot one today, kids,” He said, sliding his coffee on the table and strolling past the two of them towards the ‘M’ section. 

They stole a glance at one another, knowing smiles passing between them because it felt entirely clandestine what they were doing. 

“Don’t suppose the director would mind if we pulled funds to invest in a BAU swimming pool, would they?” She chimed in, fanning her blouse out because it really was stuffy in there, she had just assumed it was the feeling she got when she kissed Spencer. 

“We fuel the jet once a week, what’s a pool between co-workers,” He shrugged, smiling when he heard her giggle. 

Spencer pulled the folder he was actually looking for off the shelf, making his way to the exit, watching her eyes shy away from him because they both knew it was entirely obvious when they looked at one another, mainly because his cheeks heated up beyond what he could excuse as being the heat wave.

Yet he was feeling brazen, and maybe a little embarrassed at the way he’d leapt up as she’d grabbed his butt, and with a quick glance back to make sure David was nose deep in the bookshelves, he reached out and gave her ass cheek a quick pinch as he waltzed passed her, hearing her yelp and drop her folder as he did so. 

He left the evidence room with a smirk, heading back to his desk and keeping a low profile though he knew she was scrambling to collect the papers off the floor in the wake of his shameless grab. 

“You okay?” Rossi asked, his brows raised and watching the girl rearrange all the papers into a neat pile, a flustered look on her face. 

“Yeah, just thought I saw a spider,” She said, her voice breezy though her heart racing was anything but. She would have her revenge for that, she swore. 

If Spencer wanted to play that game, then it was on. 

-

Two days later, she had all but strolled into work with a shit eating grin, and he knew she was plotting something then. She had been unnaturally quiet on the car ride, had tried to keep her glances at him sparse, though he caught the little smile that tugged at her lips whenever he looked at her. 

“What?” He tried, despite the fact she shook her head in refusal, her eyes already sparked with mischief, “What? What’s that look for?”

“Nothing, just concentrate on the road, Spence,” She said, though he heard her toes tapping together with delight, and she sighed dreamily as she looked at him. Though he was under no illusion that it had come from a place of endearment, no matter how much she adored him. Because of course she loved him more than anything, he had no doubt about that, yet he also knew she loved a sweet serving of revenge just as much, and it was for that reason her smile alone worried him a little.  

“Oh, nothing, really?” He said with narrowed eyes, though he felt the infectious beam spreading on his face because he loved seeing her happy even if it undoubtedly was coming at his expense, “So I shouldn’t be expecting salt in the sugar shaker, hm? Or a water balloon under my seat?” 

“No, absolutely not,” She feigned innocence, reaching over to squeeze his hand in hers with a guiltless expression, “I am much more creative than that, Spence. I’m going big or going home, honey, you should know that by now,” 

Spencer snickered, pulling her hand up for a sweet kiss to the back of her knuckles, “I don’t know why I expected otherwise,”

The look of the cat that got the cream returned, and she merely hummed along to the radio. And oddly enough, Spencer was excited to see what she had hidden up her sleeve if it meant he could make her so childishly excited. He thought about embellishing his freight when she inevitably jumped out at him or had a can of worms pop out of his desk drawer, just to have her seem fulfilled just that bit longer. 

He didn’t care how much of an idiot it made him look, he was already a fool in love. 

Spencer trailed a few paces behind her as they stepped out onto the sixth floor, and he knew she had something truly diabolical planned because she was so brazen as to lean up and press a kiss to his mouth in the elevator, pressing her body against his and letting her velvet tongue slip into his mouth tenderly. He could have slammed a hand on the emergency stop button right then and there, could have devoured her mouth and her lips and her hot kisses some more until he stumbled out of the doors drunken and idle on her intoxicating touch. 

He made a move to caress the back of her head with one of his large hands, weave his nails through her scalp to hold her tight to him, only for her to part quickly, leaving his cheeks flushed and his lungs craving more than just oxygen. 

“For good luck,” She said with a chirp, a skip to her steps as the metal doors slid open, and she danced away from him with a grin that told him his day was about to be swiftly ruined by whatever it was she had organised. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked with a mildly worried tone, not letting her get away from him too easily as he paced behind her, his lean legs weighed down and skittish by the fact his cock was quickly getting hard at the spritely woman who had him trailing her like a dog begging for a bone. He tried not to think of the irony in those words, his expression conflicted between interested and hesitant, “Bugsy?”

“I thought you were supposed to be a genius. It means good luck, Spence,” She teased through a wry smile as she plonked herself at her desk chair, swivelling around to face him almost immediately, looking up at him through thick, roguish lashes, “Oh! Hotch says he wants the Oregon files done today, pretty boy,”

Because it couldn't be honey or baby or the other nice names she’d taken to calling him, but she could get away with the same name the entire team had called him for over ten years. 

Taking a final glance at her face that had chaos written all over it, Spencer held his tongue, looping the strap of his satchell over his head and gently placing it on his desk, his forest hues watching as she logged onto her computer, trying to keep her excitement subtle as she grinned into her keyboard clicks. 

Spencer Reid had learned quickly never to start something with that girl that he couldn’t finish. And yet, by a stroke of boldness and lust, he had gotten caught up in the whirlwind of their excursions. He had forgotten in between the soft touches and gentle kisses and soppy exchanges just how hellish she could be when she wanted. 

Shaking off whatever that look on her face meant, he rolled his draw out of his desk, the report he’d been half way through typing up laying where he had left it last night before Hotch had told them to wrap up for the day.

Pulling the manilla folder from his desk, he swore his heart leaped into his throat as a piece of thin, lacy fabric had appeared beneath his scribbles of handwriting, laughing at the look on his face when he spotted it sitting there in his drawer. 

He’d never seen her wear the satin, red thong before, but judging by the way his mind raced like a gelding let loose to conjure images of her in them, he didn’t seem to find it difficult imagining it. The lining was a gossamer mesh, small posies decorating the front in subtle detailing, but it was the floss-like string that trailed down the back that made him stutter, because there was no way that was covering anything important even if it tried. 

He heard a small giggle, and his head shot up to the offender, only catching the back of her head as she hid into her keyboard. He knew his cheeks were already flushing with poker hot flames, he felt them as much prickling and biting with heat, and he swore the shudder that ran down his spine was involuntary when he reached out to brush the fabric with his fingertip, testing the waters to see if there were really even there. Spencer’s jaw had slacked open uselessly, and she made it a mental note to tease him that she had finally been able to render the man who could tell her Thomas Edison’s childhood pets in alphabetical order speechless. 

“You alright, Spence?” JJ asked with concern lacing her fair brows, because her heels seemed to have made no sound as she had been walking by, unless they had and he’d been entirely wrapped up in his punishment to notice.

He slammed the drawer shut, loud enough to attract the attention of Morgan who was nose deep in his own report, and Spencer nearly cursed when his thumb got caught in between the pieces of wood, choosing to smash his lips together tightly instead and nod wordlessly.

“Something the matter, pretty boy?” Bugsy asked, feigning naivety as she swivelled around in her wheely chair, and he could do nothing but look at her with terrorred eyes, because he had hugely underestimated her with the can of worms idea. Though he couldn’t help but think that’s exactly what she’d opened in showing him that underwear. 

He wondered, in between thinking of excuses to give JJ as to why he had looked so disoriented, if she had a matching set. 

“T-tired,” He managed to bleat, his thumb throbbing where the pain had surged up his arm, and it seemed his pathetic justification half worked as JJ shot him wary eyes and a small smile, one that said she would let him off with that dumb response for now. 

Bugsy blinded him with a grin entirely cheshire, and she drew her file to her chest as she stood from her seat, following in JJ’s footsteps towards her boss’s office. 

“Oh, just so you know, I have it in black too,” She said almost too casually, sticking her head over his desk with a sly pull of her lips, as if she was doing nothing more than letting him know to expect rain in an hour or so. 

And he could do nothing but stare after her, his finger still aching from his mistake, begging himself not to take another peek at the divine material sitting just inches away from him. 

Spencer knew then, if he hadn’t figured it out already in the seven years he’d wanted her, that he was fucked. 

The one where they almost get caught on a date.

She sipped the straw with a coy smile, the whipped cream and cherry only making the thick drink sweeter to the taste as he watched her intently. 

“Good?” He asked with a cottony mouth and her lips popped off the straw, her mouth exploding with strawberry goodness. 

“Gotta admit, it’s kind of living up to the ‘best milkshakes in town’” She replied swooping in to pop the glacé cherry between her painted lips as Spencer took a sip from his own double chocolate delight, not missing the way her eyes lit up as she crunched into the fruit. Pushing her cone shaped glass onto his side of the sticky wooden table, she gestured the straw his way, “Swaps?” 

He smiled, because he loved sharing his things with her. He might have found it annoying had it been anyone else because he had always had his things and other people’s things separate. He’d always kept his things to himself, not selfishly or maliciously, merely for the fact he liked having his own things uncontaminated. But with her it was different. Spencer would give her anything she wanted, which included a sip of milkshake here and there. His whole left leg if she asked.

Spencer’s almond curls fell over his forehead as he leaned down to sip the strawberry shake, sliding his own over to her awaiting hands, the cold glass moist with precipitate under his fingers. Yet he watched her, her lips pulling into a satisfied smile as she took a gulp, the two of them staring each other down with sickly sweet, adoring glances. 

“Good?” She repeated back to him, and he nodded, a large, broad hand reaching over the table to swipe a touch of whipped cream from her cheek, her skin soft and hot as hell under his advance. 

“Delicious,” He said, and without really thinking of the consequences, licked the cream from the tip of his thumb, his pink lips making a lewd smack as he did so. 

She watched him with hawk eyes, and he had a glowing sense of smugness as she shook her head to herself. 

“You’re not being fair,” She grumbled, huffing and slumping back in the squeaky diner seat, and his hand quickly chased hers over the table, grabbing it into a loving entwine of fingers and palms. 

“What’s not fair?” He asked, though the shit eating grin told her he knew exactly what he was doing and she nudged him with her sneaker for it. 

“You. Looking like a damn porn star drinking your milkshake.” She said, and he felt his cheeks twinge with a blush as she chuckled, squeezing their fingers together to tell him she was only joking. 

“Seems I’ve moved up in the world of explicit professions. First you called me a stripper, now I’ve been bumped up to porn star,” He teased, remembering the confusion that had written on her face the day they’d met. Spencer knew it had nothing to do with his freaky memory, he’d known she was special the second that door had opened, he knew everything Bugsy was committed to memory for the fact he couldn’t forget her even if he tried. 

She shrugged, a smirk on her lips, “What can I say, you’re a sought out man. You could charge double if you got Morgan in on it,” 

He laughed, shaking his head, “Only double?”

“Maybe throw in a Valentine’s day discount for your loving girlfriend,” She added with a million watt grin, and he rolled his eyes, hating how he could do nothing but indulge her when she was like this. 

“Ofcourse, I can't have pretty girls paying for things,” Spencer said, because he was somewhat confident now about flirting with her, knowing it would have the full desired effect and more. “Just out of interest, are we still talking about Morgan being involved?” 

“Well, I was going to give him the evening off to spend with his own girlfriend, but if you’re really so insistent-” He shot her a raised brow and she giggled, leaning forward to kiss the thumb that had been slowly stroking the back of her hand, “Always just me and you, honey,”

He smiled earnestly at that, and they exchanged a look that said those five words were much more set in stone than the teasing may suggest. Just them, always. Spencer could get used to that.

She leaned over the table for a quick peck on the lips because as much as she loved him, and god did she love him, they had quickly found they were just as embarrassed by affection in public as the other. 

“I’m going to use the bathroom before food comes,” She said, slipping out of the latex red seats, his head following her as she waltzed over to the loo, the two of them looking back at one another with small smiles like lovesick children. 

She loved the rhythm they had found, albeit the secrecy. It was nights like this, when they were able to act like a normal couple, when they were able to kiss and hold hands and flirt and look at each other with such heat it should have been public indecency, that she knew she wanted him forever. Because if this was how good it felt in private, she could only wonder how good it would be to tell people she was enamoured by one very handsome, very clever, Spencer Reid. Yet she loved having something for just them. In the lives of people who examined each other for a living, having secrets were like gold dust. Let alone a secret between profilers. That was pure jackpot material. 

He smiled into his lap, because he was truly happy for the first time in years. He had everything he’d ever wanted handed to him on a silver platter. He had the girl he’d loved for nearly seven years playing footsies with him while he eyed her lips and tried to analyse just how much she would hate being one of those couples that made out over milkshakes and burgers even if it was all he wanted to do. 

Spencer Reid had drawn the winning hand, no cheats or tricks or card counting needed. Just being him, awfully, nerdy, awkwardly him. 

He leaned in to take another sip of his milkshake, because they really were the best, only for his contented face to drop the second he saw four people walk through the door all smiles and fancy suits and heels, entirely unaware of what they were stumbling on. 

Spencer had never fumbled around his pockets for his phone faster, hitting the call button on her profile picture, which happened to be her asleep on the sofa with Sergio’s feet in her face while Niko peeked out at the camera from under the blanket, because Spencer thought it was possibly his favourite photo of their little family. She answered on the first ring, and he could just see the confusion written on her face before she even spoke. 

“Spence, I love you but I’m peeing right now, did you miss me that much-”

“Garcia and Morgan just walked in,” He whisper yelled, cupping his hand over the mic, whipping a look over his shoulder where their friends were standing at the host’s desk, waiting to be served. “They brought their partners, they’re staying in, we gotta go,”

Bugsy’s face tightened, her panties down to her ankles, Brittany Spears’ If You Seek Amy blasting in the women’s bathroom and she wondered, on bated breath, if this was exactly what her life had come to. 

“...Shit,”

“I’ll pay the tab and try to distract them now, you slip out and we’ll meet in the parking lot,” Spencer rushed, his brow sweating as he saw the waitress lead Morgan and Garcia’s new beau, Sam, over his way, no doubt towards the free booth next to them.

“Alright, I love you,” She quickly rushed, and he whispered it back, before the two of them hung up and realised just what a miracle it would be if the two of them got out of this undiscovered. 

Morgan’s dark eyes lit up in recognition as they neared their seats, just as Spencer grabbed her purse and stashed it under his shirt, dragging her milkshake over to his side of the table to make it seem like he was alone. Not the most convincing of cover ups, but it was all he had. 

“Pretty boy,” Derek called, and Spencer faked shock as best he could, though his mind was entirely consumed with whether or not Bugsy’s side of the plan was working out. 

“What are you guys doing here, I thought you were taking Savannah to that fancy place on fifth,” Spencer said, his gaze trailing behind his best friend to see Savannah and Penelope too wrapped up in chatting to catch up to the boys. Savannah turned to the woman with a polite smile, excusing herself for a moment and heading towards the bathroom. 

Shit. Spencer thought for a moment, watching the stunning vermillion dress trail off to the toilets, and Spencer was convinced then and there they were done for, Shit, shit, shit. 

Derek looked a little guilty, “You know how it is, man. We got home late from the case, missed our reservation, had to bring my lady to the next best thing. Patty’s.” Derek chuckled and Spencer smiled fleetingly, though Derek could tell it was bothered, “You here with someone-”

“Pretty boy!” Garcia cut Morgan off, bouncing over in her pretty Dorothy-red heels to where their genius was shuffling out of the booth, fidgeting with his hands nervously. “Are you here with someone, are we totally destroying your street cred?” 

“No, no. I’m here on my own, I had a hankering for milkshakes,” Spencer nodded convincingly with a taut smile as Penelope and Morgan simultaneously turned their heads to the two glasses half drunk on the table, before they looked at him with raised brows as if to wordlessly question his alibi, two milkshakes for one guy, Reid? Feeling their eyes on him, he baulked, “Like I said, hankering.”

Bugsy felt like this was some sort of Greek tragedy. 

After doing her business and washing her hands in possible record time,  Bugsy cracked open the door to the bathroom just enough to stick her head out, eyes scanning the restaurant for Penelope and Derek. She caught Penny’s Barbie blonde hair almost instantly, her sing song laugh travelling straight across the room into Bugsy’s ears and it was then she realised she was with a woman. The red dress spoke for itself, her hair was luscious and silky like she’d popped straight out a shampoo advert, her skin that of a bronze goddess, and she immediately clocked that it was Savannah, Derek’s new girlfriend, which made all the more sense when she caught their hunky co-worker talking to a very flustered Spencer. 

The girls had shamelessly stalked her instagram in Penelope’s lair at lunch just that week and sweet heavens was a catch, if not for her job as a nurse then for the toned figure Bugsy was convinced was god playing favourites. She stared at the back of the woman’s head, whatever she’d said making Penelope chuckle and turn towards her, her head pointing right towards where the women’s bathrooms were.

Bugsy slammed the door shut, quickly retreating back into the loo and yanking at her hair in a flurry of white hot panic. God, she hoped Penelope hadn’t seen her, or things were about to get ten times more difficult to explain why the two of them were out for a meal on Valentine’s Day, whilst claiming they were entirely platonic ofcourse. She wished the door had a window or she had X-ray vision or something-

A window. A window. That was it. 

Head whipping around, her eyes locked in on the two windows above each lavatory, the stall walls luckily low enough that she could see they were big enough for her to slide through if she was careful enough. 

Heading back into the cubicle she had been in, she shut the door behind her, and slammed the toilet lid down to give her a step. Her chest pounded, lips pursing when she cursed Derek and Penelope for possibly the only time in her life, because their date had been going so well. And yet here she was, cracking open a window in the diner’s toilets and she wondered for a second time if this was what her life had been reduced to. But Spencer was worth it, she told herself. She’d crawl through a million diner windows if it meant she got him all to herself. 

As if the universe was laughing at her, the second she’d swung the window open far enough for her to pull herself through, the bathroom door opened and she froze. 

Flashing a guilty look over her shoulder, her eyes widened in fear as she made direct eye contact with the woman who had entered, her lucious brown hair falling like silk over her shoulder as she stopped in her tracks, seeing the girl clear as day over the top of the stall. 

Bugsy prayed, on god’s she had never believed in she prayed that Savannah didn’t recognize her, though why would she. Unless she herself was a serial stalker. Though there seemed to be no hint of recognition in her eyes, just shock horror. 

A beat of silence passed between them. 

“Terrible date,” Bugsy said, thinking quickly on her feet and Savannah’s face melted into understanding. 

“Ah,” She nodded, “Is he a Catfish or is he a pig?” 

“Both,” Bugsy nodded with a tense smile, anything to get away from the situation where Penelope could walk in on any moment and catch her in the act. And it pained her to lie, because Spencer was the furthest thing from both of those things. 

Savannah rolled her eyes, “Sorry you have a crappy date on Valentine’s day, that sucks. Need a leg up?” 

“I’m good, thanks,” Bugsy said, standing on the cistern and yanking herself up, hoping she wasn’t flashing Derek’s girlfriend a nice shot of her ass. “You should try the calamari, it’s real good!” 

And with that she’d pulled herself through the window legs first, dropping onto the top of Patty’s garbage bins with a ‘urgh!’, hopping off the lid immediately and dodging a heinously large rat that eyed her up for desert and flicking Spencer a quick text to say she was by the car. 

Savannah chuckled with a shake of her head, heading to the toilet herself and hearing a loud bang and a curse from the other side of the wall.

Derek and Garcia watched him look down at his phone with a perturbed expression, “I really should be going anyways,” Spencer excused, his mind reeling at just how she’d managed to slip past the lot of them, though the text only read ‘Meet by car. Window.’ and he could only wonder just what the fuck she’d meant by that. 

“Are you sure we’re not interrupting, Spencer?” Garcia asked, and he only shook his head. 

“Nope, definitely not. The only date I’m late for is between me and Lord Tennyson,” He said, which was almost too on brand for him that they didn’t question it. Spencer nodded to her date and wished them all a good evening before rushing to the front desk, his card in hand as he asked quietly if they could get their burgers to go instead. 

Morgan’s eyes narrowed at his skittish behaviour, his fidgeting fingers that tugged at his shirt, the cufflinks his mom bought him for his graduation that he only wore on special occasions glittering under the swinging, overhead diner lights. 

“Is it just me or is boy wonder acting extra shifty just now?” Penelope muttered, her blonde brows furrowed behind her glasses as Morgan nodded in agreement, Savannah returning to their table with freshly washed hands, her lipstick spruced up in the bathroom mirror. 

“I was thinking the exact same thing, baby girl,” Derek smelled a rat as Reid took a brown paper bag from over the counter, flashing a swift nod back to them as he all but ran out of the restaurant, his long legs carrying him even faster than usual. 

He saw her dusting herself off by his car, and before he could even question what her message had been, she had turned her attention onto him with a spritely excitement and launched up to give him a hungry kiss to the lips. 

“I’m so sorry, I had no idea they were coming, they told me they were going uptown,” He said, his expression worried that their night had been ruined. He gripped their to go bag pathetically, and it was only then he realised she was laughing. 

“Spence it’s fine, it’s not your fault,” She reassured, pressing another delicate kiss to his face as if to ward off the negative thoughts, and he rested his free hand on her hip, trapping her between his body and the car. He pressed into her, letting himself enjoy the affection a little too much in the cover of nightfall, “We probably shouldn’t be-” He kissed her again, because he couldn’t help it, because it was like the adrenaline of almost being caught together had set his body on fire, “-doing this here though, maybe-”  Again, his hand shoving the bag of food onto the roof of his car so he had free reign to cup her face entirely, -”wait until we get home just incase they come looking for you,” 

He nodded dumbly, “Probably,” He agreed, though he watched her with those eyes that looked dark in the moonlight, pressed against her wanton hands that clawed at his chest, pulling him closer as an impossible oxymoron to her chaste words, because she didn’t want him to let go of her, not really. 

He kissed her again, hard, because his chest was still pounding from the close call and her fingers scraped his waist, the feeling jumping straight to his crotch that was already well aware of how close they had become. 

“I love you,” He said with a slight slur, idle from their affection and it was only then he opened his eyes to look at her. She looked impossibly more ravishing in the cloak of night, her eyes sparkling in the street lamps, her lips wet with his own spit, her gaze adoring and soppy and so in love, “I’m sorry if our Valentine’s day got ruined,”

“Ruined?” She said, slipping a hand into his back pocket to grab the car keys, leaning in to kiss his chin gently a couple times, “I get to spend the most romantic day of the year with my very hot boyfriend eating amazing burgers and making out on the couch until the sun comes up,” 

He smiled, cheeks warmer than the freshly cooked beef steaming through the paper bag, and he couldn’t resist shooting a hand out to stop her from rounding the car to the passenger side, grabbing her jaw in one fell swoop, lifting her head to attach their lips once more, ‘one for the road’ he would excuse when he let her go, and he felt her smile into his affection. They let go with a sweet smack, and the second they did her mouth watered for more. 

“That really is the best Valentine’s Day,” He agreed, swapping the car keys in her hands for the food and walking round to her side to open the door for her like a gentleman. 

And that was exactly how it went. Until making out turned into more, more kisses, more intimate, more parts of themselves bared to one another for the first time, and they sat in naked silence afterwards, enjoying each other's body heat until their eyes got heavy and they fell asleep. 

And Bugsy swore she would love Spencer Reid with every part of her he’d touched until the day she died. 

The one with the fake boyfriend.

Spencer was pouring kibble when she screamed. The bag was all but spilled over the kitchen tiles as his head shot up, his entire body diverting to the direction of her yell, and before he even had time to put the bag down, perhaps step over the two shadows that dived for the rogue biscuits tumbling to the floor, he heard her footsteps tearing from their room and into the kitchen. 

Because it was their room now. Not just his. 

She wore black pants and a tight, white shirt with her buttons only half fastened shut. His eyes shamelessly dropped straight to her chest, a black lace bra staring back at him and he couldn’t help but be reminded of the week before, wondering for a second if they had a spare half an hour before work. 

It had been eight days since they’d had sex for the first time, and the two of them were struggling all the more to keep it together. He was like a man starved of oxygen, she was a woman let out of a cage, craving one another more than they had ever thought possible. Because before he hadn’t been given that taste of sweet heaven, hadn’t known every inch of her the way he did now, and Spencer thought he might not be able to ever know anything more intoxicating than how she looked in his bed when she-

He was quick to put his hands over her cheeks as she panted, horror in her gaze as she held her phone in her hand, damn near shaken for words, “What? What is it?” 

“Oh god, I think I’m going to be sick,” She murmured, her eyes never tearing away from her phone screen, and he promptly took the device out from her grasp, his hazel hues roving over the bright light. 

His lips parted, and he felt his stomach flurry into life as he saw the raunchy photo she’d taken of her lingerie, their shared bathroom in the background and what looked to be a toothbrush in the top of the photo, clearly having been in the middle of brushing when she’d taken the photo in the mirror. 

His gaze went to the top of the screen, because he certainly hadn’t heard his phone buzz on the counter, nor would it have been such an issue if she had sent it to him, though he suspected he was the intended recipient anyway.

Spencer frowned, “Who’s MILF?”

Bugsy looked at him guiltily. “It’s JJ.” She said through a cottonmouth. 

“You know what that word means right?” He said, and she rolled her eyes because of course he was focusing on all the wrong things, though she guessed that was down to his tented trousers and the rouge that crawled up his neck into the apple of his cheeks because Spencer always found an excuse to cram silences with words.

“Yes, don’t worry, you’re the only one I want to ilf for real.” She said, a hand running through her hair in panic as she looked over his shoulder at the text conversation.

“Can’t you just delete it?” Spencer asked, his eyes scanning the photo again because it certainly would have made his morning receiving a photo like that. 

“Not on messenger, not when- oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” Bugsy’s voice got louder with every with every curse, and she ripped the phone from his hand when the three little dots appeared, letting her know JJ was in fact typing. Spencer was knocked from his daze staring at the photo, realising that JJ was a profiler just like any of the rest of them, and she could very easily figure out who that photo had been meant for, “She’s typing, she’s typing!”

Spencer took a deep breath for both of them, his hands resting on her upper arms in gentle motions, “Alright, let’s just calm down, she might just be a little confused, I mean you don’t usually send her photo’s like that do you?” He said soothingly, only for her to let out a small screech, and he saw ‘incoming call from MILF’ written in bright white across the top of the screen, “Okay, I’m begging you to change that name, that is so weird thinking of JJ as-”

“SPENCER,” She barked, handing him the phone, “I can’t speak right now, I don’t know what to say, I’ll screw it all up,”

His eyes widened, ushering her hand back to her ear, “I can’t answer it, then she’ll know we’re together while you look like- like that,”

“We live together, I don’t think I’ve worn pants here once in the past five years,” She whisper yelled to him, the ringing going on only longer with every dial thrumming right to her already racing heart, “Oh god, I’m gonna answer it, I’m going to- Good morning, Jennifer, how’s the oatmeal in the Jareau-LaMontagne household?”

“Please tell me that photo was meant for a guy. Or atleast Penelope,” JJ’s voice was full of surprise, and Bugsy already knew she had her fingers rubbing her eye sockets, “Are you seeing someone?”

“Uh, y-yeah?” Bugsy stammered, exchanging a wide eyed glance with Spencer, “A guy from… a bar! I’m seeing a guy from a bar,”

“Oh, Bugsy, why didn’t you say?” JJ asked with a girlish delight, and Bugsy shrugged before she remembered JJ couldn’t see that, and she had to think on her feet for a response.

“It’s just casual- it’s new and totally casual right now,” She stammered, hoping the lie was convincing enough that JJ wouldn’t poke for more answers. But it was JJ, the same JJ who loved filling Emily’s shoes as big sister when she was away, and ‘totally casual’ seemed to not make the cut for explanations. 

“Is he cute, how old is he?” JJ rebutted as she submerged Henry’s empty cereal bowl in the sink full of soapy water, pressing the phone between her shoulder and ear.

The girl’s gaze trailed over Spencer’s face, where he had gone deadly silent to listen in on their conversation. He flashed her a devilish grin at JJ’s mothering tone, and she shyly looped a finger through his belt.

“The cutest,” Bugsy replied, with a small beam, and she watched Spencer’s gaze turn doting and sweet. And that time, she hadn’t been lying.

–

“Oh come on, I want to meet this guy,” JJ said, bringing her coffee cup up to her lips. It wasn’t even that Emily had asked her to look after Bug the first time she’d left for Paris, then again when she left for London, that made her so protective. Moreso that fact Bugsy was a little sister if she’d ever had something close to one. Being the youngest herself, she knew what it was like to live in her own sister’s shadow, a feeling that had followed her around her entire life. 

If JJ was missing Emily, she knew Bug was feeling the same tenfold.

Either way, the second they’d gotten into the office all of three days ago after the incident, JJ hadn’t stopped badgering her about her new secret fling she had.

“He’s busy, super super busy,” She brushed her off and Spencer smirked into his book, his desk chair turned away from where JJ leaned against her desk. Penelope’s heels clicked against the BAU floor as she wandered over to them, a steaming mug of tea in her own hand.

“Who’s super super busy?” She asked, cutting in half way through the conversation to hear only half of the story, and Bugsy shied away into her lap. 

“Bugsy’s secret boyfriend,” JJ raised her brows at the woman who almost dropped her mug, her jaw hitting the floor as she looked at the girl incredulously.

“Did my ears just deceive me? Have you been hiding something from me, cause you know I’ll hack into your social media before you could even say Barbie Dream House,” Penelope said with an aghast expression. 

“He’s just a guy I met at a bar, it’s not a big deal,” She brushed them off, already digging the lie deeper, and she only could hope the reward would be a bigger pay out when she thought back the night after the restaurant. 

She’d tell them anything if it meant she could spend another night like that. 

“Not a big deal?” JJ said doubtfully, flicking a look at the girl, “Come on, I want to meet the guy who’s the best sex you ever had,” 

Spencer slammed his book shut, and twirled around in his office chair with just enough time to watch her groan, and bury her face in her hands. 

“What was that?” He asked, his eyes lit up with a boyish excitement as he resisted the urge to smirk at her, because he felt the glare before he’d even seen it. 

“Nothing,” She snapped at him, eyes laced with an unspoken warning for him to watch his step because they weren’t stupid enough to ignore his sudden interest in her lovelife, “Don’t you have a report due?”

He shrugged with rosy cheeks, his expression that of barely concealed delirium as he watched her flush under the pressure of his prideful grin. 

“You know me, I’ll catch up on that later, let’s talk about this new thing you have,” He brushed off, just as Rossi paced past their mother’s meeting, heading for the roundtable room. 

“We have a case, kids. Life waits for no man, no matter how juicy his gossip,” David said profoundly as ever, and the four of them rose to follow behind him like a trail of ducklings. Penelope’s heels clicked at his side, and she cast a quick glance over her shoulder at where JJ was interrogating their youngest agent some more. 

“You want the 411?” She mumbled, and the old man sighed, watching the girl's floral hair ties bounce with her pigtails at every step. 

“Shoot. Wife number one ruined Real Housewives for me, I guess I need something good,” Rossi said with tired eyes, as Penelope scooched closer. 

“Bugsy has a new secret boyfriend,” The bubbly woman said in between a million watt grin.

He raised his eyebrows at her, flicking a quick look back at the girl who looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole when JJ pushed her for details on their first date. 

“No kidding,” He murmured, tilting his head in consideration how he hadn’t seen the signs, he knew well enough now to know the look of a honeymoon phase. He’d had about fifty of them. 

“Still awaiting details on how he looks, but I reckon a quick deep dive in her socials will get me what I want,” Penelope added as if putting together a report on an UnSub, though the tech wizz would argue mystery man was just as much a person of interest than any of the others they went after. 

He looked at her for a moment, her chirpy tone almost a dichotomy of the invasive stalking she was revving herself up for, and he nearly stopped in his tracks for a second. 

“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” He said, with a serious undertone, shaking his head, “I’d hate to be the guy on the end of your wirey maze, Garcia,”

But Spencer’s smile had yet to be wiped from his face, in fact he thought he might just get JJ to say it again into a microphone because the ego boost was set to last a lifetime. 

He promised he’d make it up to her for the annoyingly arrogant attitude he was sporting, but then any man with half a brain would if he’d been told he was the best she’d ever had, let alone one with a brain that had already engraved the sound of that into his hypothalamus. 

And Spencer knew just how he was going to say sorry. 

–

“Wait, so does this mean that your new hypothetical boyfriend is better than Sean?” Penelope said through the screen as they lounged on the jet on the way home from the case. Hotch’s head shot up from where he was reading the newspaper, and he couldn’t even bring himself to look at the youngest agent before he had practically thrown himself out of his seat. 

“I’m going for coffee,” He said before anyone could interject and the sight of their boss all but running down the aisle towards the kitchenette made her throw her head in her hands once more. 

“I’m begging you, never make me talk about sex infront of Hotch ever again,” She groaned, and Rossi huffed, clamping his own book shut and shuffling past them to meet where Aaron was spending almost too much time with his head in the cupboard, “Better yet, don’t make me talk about sex with his brother infront of him again,” 

“For the record, old man number two doesn’t want to hear about who jiggles your Jimmies either,” He grumbled, and Bugsy carded her fingers through her hair, too embarrassed to look at the two men that cowered in the back of the jet. 

“Jiggles your Jimmies?” Blake repeated, her brow furrowing, “At least, I’m not that old,” 

“Stop avoiding the question, Princess,” Penelope chided, and Morgan laughed as Bugsy huffed, turning her head away as if she hadn’t heard, “Is he?” 

“That’s usually what ‘the best I’ve ever had’ means, Pen,” She snipped through blazing cheeks, and she could feel the smug-shit eating grin coming from Spencer before she’d even looked at him, “Now, could we talk about literally anything else, please?”

There was a lapse of silence where Morgan exchanged a look with JJ, and the blonde picked under her nail, trying to think of anything else to say before she cracked, because it was rare that Bugsy ever sought anyone out so fondly. 

And possibly because she knew Emily would need the complete, padded out, full update when JJ inevitably called her to rinse her with details. 

“How many kids does he want?” The words fell from JJ’s mouth, not really thinking much about the way Reid’s face was claret red. He had never liked lewd conversations. 

And he wanted to blurt out three, as many as possible, as many as she wants and then another one, but he couldn’t because that would inevitably give their secret away completely. 

“Does he have a stable job?” Blake chimed in, ever the mother considering if the mystery man would be a practical partner, “Is he gentle? Angry men make for terrible fathers,”

“Is he gentle in bed?” Penelope added, her glasses glinting in the light of her computer screen, “Does he do the thing where he-”

Bugsy growled, half way between a groan and a scream, looking between her team with wide eyes, “You’re all perverted, hedonistic, gossip girls, and I beg you leave this alone before I join Hotch and Rossi in the cupboards,” 

“Cupboards are full,” Hotch barked, almost warningly because he didn’t think he could look at her until the subject of her and Sean banging was entirely out of his head. 

And they went quiet again, seeming to take the hint that Bugsy didn’t appreciate their poking. Morgan gave her an apologetic yet amused smile as he slipped his headphones on, Blake pulled out a puzzle book, JJ retired to her side of the couch for a moment of shut eye, though her brain was filled with what she guessed Emily would say about her little sister having a real life boyfriend. 

God help the kid who tries screwing that psycho over. 

Spencer smiled dopily into his book, his hands gripping the leather bound spine tightly, and it was the first time she’d looked at him the whole plane ride. His chest puffed as he met her with a cocky smile that he barely tried to hide, and he swiftly received a kick to the shin for his rare ego. 

But he didn’t care, the sting in his leg all but none existent because she hadn’t been too cruel with her chastising, and he couldn't wait to kiss the anger out of her the second they were alone. He loved her temper, loved her fire and the warmth it gave him, and he thought then there wasn’t a single thing about her that he wished to change. Even if the scowl and pout on her face didn’t exactly suit her. 

His smile was blinding the entire way home, even when they hopped into his car, and he looked at her with ill-concealed excitement, “Better than Sean?” Spencer asked, hopefully, and she tutted, swatting his thigh. 

“Spencer,” She hissed, though his eyes didn’t leave her, waiting for a response, “Fine, yes, better than Sean. Best I’ve ever had, right?” 

Spencer all but pranced up the stairs into their apartment ready to live up to his new moniker. 

The one where someone finds out.

“Can I borrow your deodorant?” Bugsy asked, as she slowly slipped a piping hot cup of coffee onto Penelope’s desk, making sure not to spill so much as a drop over the edge of the cute octopus mug.

“Oh, of course!  I always have something spare for my girls.” The tech wizz was quick to fish through her bag for the aerosol, handing it to the woman as she snuck a hand under her armpit to apply. “You ever need tampons, a box of cookies, or prescription painkillers, Garci is your gal. Though preferably don’t tell Hotch about that last one,” 

Bugsy smiled, “You’re an angel,” She said, as she sprayed herself quickly, “I left my stuff in, uh, secret boyfriend’s car. If you got a spare bra lying around your bag, you’d really be a life saver,”

Penelope’s eyes turned catlike as she narrowed them at the girl, “I said I’m your gal, not Mary Poppins,” She replied, looking up at Bugsy with a smug smile as she played with the fluffy end of her pen, “So, you guys hook up in his car or something?” 

Bug pressed her lips together tightly, wondering whether she could let too much slip to the woman who was known for tracking her friends’ phones like they were damn Sim characters on the loose. And despite their relationship being so top secret, it had been five months of sneaking around. Five months of keeping her smiles and butterflies and silly little notions of just how great Spencer was entirely free from girl talk. She knew the moment they told their team, there would be questions and rumours across departments. There would be prodding and interrogating and paperwork to fill out with Hotch, and they more than likely wouldn’t be allowed to be in the field together. 

Which brought her an even more worried thought. What if she was forced to move teams? 

Spencer certainly wouldn’t be the one to move, he had practically made a home in the BAU before any of them even knew she existed. And despite the fact they felt more like a family to her than the houses in every country ever had, she would leave them if it meant Spencer could stay. 

It was different with JJ and Will. They were together, yes, had been in the field together once or twice, but it wasn’t as if they were on the same team, liable to letting their relationship muddy the waters of worklife. She wasn’t entirely sure what the rules were of relationships in the team, and she knew Hotch would become suspicious almost instantly  if she asked; knew she could only lie to him for so long about this so called secret boyfriend before he became overbearingly fatherlike and weaselled his way into her head with those stern eyes and that patient law degree. 

She nodded after considering spilling her thoughts out to Penelope, because as much as she loved Spencer and loved that he was her best friend even before he was her boyfriend, she missed girl talk. The same girl talk he had no idea how to navigate, that was a complete mystery to him with its hidden politics and rules that he was convinced were purposely made up to confuse guys so they wouldn’t be able to figure out what women were talking about. She missed having someone there to hear just how Spencer would stroke her hair before they went to sleep, when her eyes were closed and her breathing was slowly evening out and he thought she was already dozing, when she would glance at him through bleary eyes because she knew he would be watching her, his eyes wide and fat with love as he looked at her like he was a kid seeing his Christmas presents lined up neatly beneath the tree. She wanted someone else to know how he managed to make her coffee perfectly, how he would wake up five minutes before her, drag himself out of bed to brush his teeth and cook her breakfast at the weekends, how she was trying harder to stay tidy for his sake because she saw the way he cleaned her messes up for her without complaints or grumbles. Bugsy wanted someone else to know that he would kiss her like she was going to be ripped away from him at any given moment, and that she melted into a puddle at his feet when he asked to shower with her just last week and they got to spend forty minutes under the relaxing hot water, just holding each other close enough to feel every breath and smile and laugh and everything else they ended up doing when they were naked. 

She loved having him all to herself, truly. Yet there was part of her that wanted to scream to the entire office the second there was a lull in conversation that she was in love with him more truly, deeply, insatiably than she had ever imagined anyone could be. 

Penelope squealed, kicking her legs and pulling her second wheely chair out for Bugsy to sit down in, “Tell me everything, were you in the back or the front? Oh my god were you in the trunk, can you imagine that? Didn’t the seat belts get in the way? What about the handbrake? And the wheel-”

Bugsy laughed with a shake of her head, but she obliged her anyway as she threw herself into the seat, if not for a spare five minutes of relaxing before she started her paperwork. 

“Slow down! I’ll give you three questions, tops, and that’s all you’re getting out of me, Garcia,” She chuckled, cracking open her Dr Pepper can and taking a sip of the cold fizz. 

“Three?” Garcia cried incredulously, “You’re like a genie in a bottle only you withhold secrets instead of granting wishes,” 

“I can make it two if you want, smartass,” Bugsy teased, and she giggled at the way Penelope glared at her, like she was ready to lay one of her perfectly manicured nails around her throat and wrangle her for the truth in a rare bout of Penelope Garcia rage.

“Okay, umm, first question,” Penelope held a finger up, pressing her peach painted lips together because she only had three magic wishes, “What was it like, your guys first time?” 

Bugsy smiled, melting inside because speaking to Spencer about how good he was in bed seemed like a little too on the nose even for her, and she’d kept it hidden for god knows how long, “It was good, but not just good in that way. Although believe me it was good in that way too,” She said with a bashful giggle, her cheeks heating on impact and Penelope squealed, “I felt safe, and he kept telling me he loved me, and when we were done he went to the store and bought me strawberry milk because I told him it was my favourite,” 

Penelope’s eyes melted into puppy dog ones, her lips pulling to reveal her pearly white smile and she quietly ‘aww’ed at the sentiment, her brows tugging together in earnest joy as she watched Bugsy flick the metal tab of the can lid to avoid eye contact. 

“What an angel, who did you pay to find you this guy?” Penelope asked and the girl’s chuckled together. She rocked side to side on her desk chair, mid thought of her very important question, “Alright, alright, next one! Have you told Spencer yet?”

Bugsy froze, flicking a look to Penelope because surely there was no way she could have guessed from that short exchange. She knew Garcia was a hotshot behind a screen, but she would have to be given a spot as a profiler if she’d managed to figure out just from that one question who it was she was trying so desperately to keep a secret.

 “What do you mean?” She said, trying to hide the way her throat had run dry, and Penny looked at her as if she had lost a few brain cells in the midst of the honeymoon phase. 

“I mean, it sounds like you guys spend a lot of time in your room. Spence surely must have crossed paths with him by now?” Garcia clarified, and Bugsy’s brows lifted in what she hoped was well concealed panic. 

“Yes- yes,” She cleared her throat, wishing the stuttering away as she scrambled to cover her tracks, “Spencer has met him, he said he’s a great guy, real baseball whizz,” 

‘Great guy’ didn’t quite cut it, she thought with a chiding voice in her head, but she was sure Spencer would forgive her with a small bat of her lashes, a sweet kiss even. She even thought of a way that would convince him just how sorry she was for limiting him to just the word great, because he was so much more than that to her; she thought of an apology, one where he would be so smitten and drunk on kisses and other things that she could tell him he was the dumbest boy alive and he wouldn’t care. 

Because she was all his, loved him far beyond ‘great’ and the idea of that alone cut his IQ from 187 to a mere 5 on a good day. 

Penelope smirked, like she knew a sudden shortcut in her system, “Remind me to interrogate Reid later about this ‘Home Run’ you’re bringing over for bang bang,” 

Bugsy snickered, making a mental note to remind Spencer where he suddenly fell in her lie, when in truth she had been thinking about the time he’d subbed for someone on Morgan’s team. She’d been thinking about how proud he looked, how he’d smiled for days after, how Morgan and Hotch picked him up and screamed with happiness at their younger agent, but she definitely hadn’t been thinking about how his hair had looked sweaty and full of curls on his neck, hadn’t at all been thinking that his face looked that extra bit kissable when he laughed. 

If it had been Emily, she might have been screwed. She swore her sister could sniff out a lie from her like a bloodhound to a body. It was why she had always been caught sneaking out, always been caught smoking blunts behind the shed, it was why Emily knew for a blatant fact whether she was really sick when she’d claimed she was too ill to go to school. If it had been Emily, she would have been six feet under for that small white lie alone, but Garcia wasn’t Emily. And so Garcia believed her. 

“Oh, third question, you guys are being like, safe right?” Penelope said, with rare concern swirling in her dark brown eyes, and Bugsy sighed with a knowing smile, because it felt like the team did nothing but mother her nowadays, “Because as much as I would love to be an aunt all over again, I don’t think the world is ready for a baby Bugsy,”

“I know what I’m doing, Pen. My IUD doesn’t run out for another couple years, we’re totally fine,” She replied, subconsciously running a thumb over the inner part of her arm where the rod lay under her skin until she felt the odd poking of the device. Spencer had insisted he wore a condom the first few times just to be extra cautious, had begun to tell her the fact sex was only safe 99 percent of the time with an IUD alone before she had kissed him to politely and lovingly tell him to stop overthinking things. However they had run out after the sixth time, and instead of stopping to go run out and get more, he’d decided perhaps they would be safe enough, or perhaps he had stopped caring the second she took her clothes off. 

Penelope grinned, pretending to wipe her brow, “Okay, phew. If you ever need anything, I’m talking condoms, lube, maybe you guys are getting it on and you realise you’re out of batteries for your-”

“Ah,” Bugsy winced, sticking her fingers in her ears and hopping out of her seat to head for the door, the feeling that Penelope was toeing the line of boundaries the way she usually did only this time she was unknowingly talking about Spencer, “Thankyou, Garcia, however I’m going to get going, breakfast is calling, and Dr Pepper is not cutting it this morning,” She said backing away towards the door, looking at the bubbly blonde who watched her go with a cunning smile. Because Penelope always meant well, even if she trampled over boundaries sometimes, or lacked the perfect words to say, she always had the best of intentions, and for a moment the guilt tugged at Bugsy’s stomach for being so abrasive in leaving. 

“As long as you’re being safe, I am happy to know you’re getting some,” The woman brushed off, whirling around her desk to log into her software, her manicured nails clicking against her keyboard at the speed of light. 

Pausing with her hand on the door knob, she looked back at Penelope with softened eyes, a small dose of sentiment trickling into her tone, “Pen?” She said in a quiet voice and Garcia stopped, looking back to the youngest agent with wondering eyes, “Don’t ever change,”

And with that she left to grab herself a coffee, because the guilt of keeping secrets was too much for the early morning.

–

She saw him coming mid way through lunch, Penelope tucked behind Morgan’s desk, stirring a spoonful of peanut butter into her oatmeal pot, steam whirling from the container with a sweet scent. Morgan leaned against Bugsy’s workspace, his arms crossed over his chest as the two of them chattered, Bugsy picking at a punnet of fat, red grapes. 

Spencer came down the stairs, his eyes already trained on her the second he’d left Rossi’s office after handing some files over to the veteran agent, and he fought the small blush away from the apples of his cheeks. Because even after five months of calling her his girlfriend, just the sight of her glancing up at him with that look in her eyes had him bashful.

His hand dived into his bag before he could forget, a rare and near impossible occurrence for him only he’d found he had the tendency to get sidetracked when she was around, usually looking at her expressive face when she was talking, or getting lost in the light scent of her hair that wafted over to him, watching the way her hands fiddled with her stationary when she was thinking. Bugsy made Spencer Reid forget things, and it was for that reason he knew she wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before, not that he needed reminding of it. 

“Here you go, you left your deodorant in my car,” Spencer exclaimed, producing a pink can from his satchell and handing it over to her with little thought to the chaos those ten words had created. 

Because Spencer had unknowingly just set off a time bomb, one that threatened five months worth of covert operations. Unintentionally, ofcourse, because those five months had been just as hard on him. He had just been excited to see her. 

Bugsy felt herself go a sickly colour, felt her stomach drop and the wind whoosh from her lungs at the sound of it and her head whipped to Garcia before she could think to be even the littlest bit subtle, because never had there been a clue about their little secret so blatant and open for the taking. 

And as if that hadn’t been the nail in the coffin, as if the small look of confusion that washed over Penelope’s face hadn’t given away the small feeling of puzzle pieces slotting together in that wonderfully big brain of hers, Spencer plonked a drink from the cafe down the street on her desk. 

It was a pink liquid, thin and sickly looking, with a whipping of fresh cream on top, and a glacé cherry to make it look extra delicious. 

“I got you a strawberry milk as well because I know you wanted one last night,” He said, a helpful smile on his face as he slid it over the table to her. It wasn’t the brand that she loved, or the Nesquik powder she kept stashes of in their cupboards, but he knew she would devour it nonetheless. 

And yet she didn’t look at him with that loving gaze like she usually did when he brought her presents. Didn’t throw him a ‘thankyou’ dipped in hidden affection, or a small squeeze of his hand that they usually could get away with because they’d always been affectionate. 

Instead, the second the words had left his mouth, her eyes went so wide he saw the whites of her sclera, saw her pupil shrink as her head jerked around to Penelope who sat in Morgan’s desk chair, an oatmeal in her hands that shook as she lifted her dirty spoon to point at the young woman. 

“Pen-” Bugsy started with a warning tone, the panic laced in her words that were quickly overtaken by Penelope’s voice yelling, her eyes equally as peeled back wide with horror.

“OH! OH! You- YOU- And the- and the milkshake- and you said- OH,” Penelope screeched flicking her porridge covered utensil like a teacher pointing at a naughty student, and she was quick to turn her attention to Reid, “AND YOU! YOU- OH GOD-” 

“Woah, woah, what’s with the yelling, baby girl?” Morgan asked earnestly, holding his hands up in surrender to the woman who had cut through the working silence of the office, some of the other agents lifting their heads from their work to see what the commotion was about. Even Hotch had shot a look to the BAU floor from his office, and judging by the annoyed look on his face as he stood up from his desk, they didn’t have a whole load of time to shut Penelope up before Hotch began demanding answers.

This was it, Bugsy told herself. This was the moment she’d been dreading, when they would be outed to the whole office, not even getting to decide when or what they told the team that could soften the blow of a cover story so huge. The moment when Hotch would likely get her to put in a transfer form by the end of the week with a slap on the wrist.

But she wasn’t ready to leave; Bugsy didn’t want to be anywhere that wasn’t with her team, even if there was a grey area in the rules about what she and Spencer could and couldn’t do in the field. 

And so she sprung towards Penelope, a hand grabbing the arms of the wheely chair Penelope sat on, looking the woman dead in the eye. 

“Hey, Pen, quick question about IT for you, I think we should head to your office, don’t you?” She said quickly, already rolling the woman back towards her lair with frantic eyes while Penelope hopped between five trains of thought, her oatmeal all but slipping from her hands, “Spence, get the door for me would you?”

“And Spencer- you said Spencer spoke to him- you said-” Garcia muttered on like she’d opened pandora’s box and peered inside to see the great wonders of the universe and returned a madwoman, her words only made more dramatic by the way she pointed in Spencer’s face as he passed by them, his own expression curved into worry as he’d quickly clicked what the tech whizz was babbling about, “BASEBALL, SPENCER- SHE SAID YOU LIKED BASEBALL-”

“Okay, am I missing something or was that an extra dose of weird and wonderful from Garcia this morning?” Blake said with narrowed eyes as the genius boy held the door open and Bugsy wheeled a yelling Garcia down the hallway to her office, the youngest agent with an oddly harsh tone as she shushed the woman. 

“Pen, I’ll explain-”

“But you- YOU!” 

“Shhh!” 

“Something’s ruffled her feathers, I can tell you that for free,” Morgan said, his eyes trailing Spencer as he strolled behind the bickering women, tucking his hair behind his ear worriedly, “That right there was a level nine Garcia freakout,” 

JJ’s brow creased, as Hotch headed down the stairs towards the trio, all too aware of the commotion Penelope’s yelling had caused while the rest of the office attempted to settle back into their reports. But it seemed everyone’s eyes trailed after the three agents heading towards Penelope’s office, watching the car crash of a moment through the freshly cleaned windows as Pen tried speaking, though yelling may be a better term for it, and Bugsy barked at her to calm down. 

“What’s level ten?” The blonde asked, her arms crossed over her chest, and Morgan shook his head.

“You don’t wanna know,”

–

“YOU TWO ARE SEXING LIKE BUNNIES AND YOU DIDN’T TELL US?” Penelope all but yelled the second Spencer shut the door behind him, and Bugsy ran a hand over her face out of embarrassment, her cheeks hot and painfully tingly. 

“Penelope, would you please keep your voice down, okay, this isn’t a big deal-” Spencer tried to interject, his palms out in a non threatening manner like level nine Garcia was an unsub they were trying to subdue. The older woman looked at him wide eyed, as if he’d just told her the sky was falling, and her mouth dropped in aghast. 

“Not a big deal- NOT A BIG DEAL? Spencer Reid, two of my best friends are screwing around in his car- your car- and you mean to tell me to calm down?” Penelope shrieked, and Spencer wondered for a moment if he was getting yelled at or she really was just that shocked, “I mean, this is groundbreaking, like more groundbreaking than the Anniston-Pitt-Joley affair, you guys are messing around right under our noses- this is like the talk of the century-” 

“W-we’re not just messing around, Garcia,” Spencer spluttered, scratching at his neck awkwardly, “I mean not that that stuff isn’t great, cause, god, of course it is,” He looked at Bugsy who smiled with an unnatural shyness, rubbing at her mouth with an anxious touch, “But it’s not just that, I really-really love her,” 

Bugsy thought she might have just melted on the spot there and then as she looked at him over her shoulder, a meek simper spreading across her face and she flicked a look back to Penelope with pleading eyes. 

“I know it’s a lot to take in, and I know it's sudden,” She said quietly, and for once Penny listened, because it was like the air had shifted to accommodate the gooey feeling of love between the youngest agents, “But he’s right, it’s not just fooling around, Pen, we’re just being us. And we wanted to keep it that way a little while,”

If there was one thing about Penelope that Bugsy knew would tug on her heart strings, was that Pen, at her core, was a romantic. She gushed over the kisses in the rain, the soppy proposals, the cheesy love confessions. And judging by the way her horror seemed to have melted away, she was entirely right, because it left behind a sparkly look in her eye that flicked between the two of them, like she was a kid watching the prince get the princess for the first time all over again. 

“Wait, so you guys are like, in love love, like wedding bells and a white picket fence with kids in the yard and all that?” Bugsy grinned, feeling Spencer’s arm lay over her shoulder, pulling her close to his side, and in a rare moment of PDA, she looked up at him with the full extent of her adoring gaze. 

“I’m vetoing the white fence, but I guess so,” She said with crude humour, and he smiled down at her, raising his brows and almost instantly they’d flung back into how it was when it was just the two of them at home. 

“Vetoing the fence? How are the kids going to play in the yard, we’ll be raising a small horde of them,” He quipped back, and she laughed, burying her face in his chest as Penelope watched with fascinated interest how they fit together the same way they always had and yet now they were suddenly different. Glowing. Golden. 

“I was thinking more of a flock but okay-”

“Are you kidding me?” Pen interjected, her tone exasperated and sweet, besotted with the sight of the youngest agents poring over one another unapologetically and she felt like slapping herself silly because how had they not noticed before. “I take it back, you guys aren’t Pitt and Joley, you’re- you’re William and Kate, you’re Neeson and Richardson, you’re just,” She sighed dreamily as the two of them glanced at her with coy smiles, entirely exposed in their sickeningly loved up stupors, “Meant to be,” 

They looked at eachother, because Pen had hit the nail on the head, the fact they’d danced around one for so long that it felt like they had always been made for one another the second they’d kissed that day in her room. Bugsy couldn’t imagine a life without Spencer in it, didn’t think she started existing really until he came knocking on her door in search of a translator. Spencer never believed in god or heaven or angels, but he knew whatever it was that had sent her to him when he was ten feet below his rock bottom, was something even a man so smart as him couldn’t explain.

Bugsy grinned toothily at the tech whizz, pointing a reprimanding finger in her direction, “You can’t tell Morgan, this is top secret,” 

Penelope’s mouth dropped its smile almost instantly in moral offence, “Wait, what? But I always tell big daddy everything,” 

Spencer face scrunched in bafflement, his lips moving before he could stop them; “Big Daddy?”, whilst Bugsy brushed off the nickname almost too unsurprised at the woman’s words.

“Please, Pen, pleeeease,” She begged, her eyes round and wide with a pleading expression that made her seem ten years younger, and Penelope looked like she was ready to crack within mere seconds , “We’ll tell everyone soon, I promise, just please give us a few more weeks to figure things out,”

And Garcia showed signs of crumbling. Not that Spencer could blame her, because Bugsy could get anything she wanted from people when she really tried. He liked to think of it as her sixth sense, sometimes wondered if she had some sort of mind control over him that she hadn’t told him about because he seemed to bend and sway to her whims almost too easily, and it was almost comforting to see Garcia facing the same struggle as she huffed, turning away from the puppy eyes that stared into her soul. 

Penelope sighed, pouting a little at the fact she’d been given an explicit instruction to hide something from Morgan, the very idea of which setting her in a dampened mood. Yet she glanced back at the two agents that held onto each other like they were awaiting lottery results, their imploring eyes trained on her and patiently holding out for a response, knowing she was the only person in the whole world who had the power to put an end to their hypothetical romcom montage they’d been swept up in for months. She bet to herself for a moment that they would have some kind of cheesy seventies or eighties hit playlist running behind all of their hidden moments and secret affections, might have Cindi Lauper’s Time After Time running when they had their first kiss, She’s Always a Woman by Billy Joel when they danced in the kitchen at breakfast. 

Penelope Garcia was nothing but a hopeless romantic, and it was for that reason that she rolled her eyes with a wry smile, and Bugsy’s chest deflated with relief, her expression lighting up with joy, that Spencer was quick to replicate. 

“What would you kids ever do without me?” Garcia said with a dramatic huff, and Bugsy all but threw herself at the woman, grabbing her in a tight hug, squeezing her so hard she nearly popped a pom pom out of her hair. 

“Oh, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, I swear we’ll make it up to you, anything you want,” Bugsy said, her words flooding together with excitement as she buried her face in the woman’s blonde curls, “I swear, it’ll be a few weeks tops,” 

And with just a few more minutes of Penelope squealing over the sight of them holding hands, nearly fainting from joy when Spencer tucked Bugsy’s hair behind her ear lovingly with an adoring gaze, their secret was safe again. For a matter of a few weeks, that was. 

The one where he gets shot.

“We’ve got the suspect headed into El Lobito’s diner,” 

“Copy that, we’re on our way,” The sheriff reported, his radio sounding out as he approached the group where they stood around their table crammed full of suspect profiles. “We got him,” He said with a trace of relief, the preacher that had been murdering the prostitutes he pimped out finally within their grasp. 

Bugsy nodded, checking that her gun was holstered and reaching for her vest when Hotch put a hand out towards her, “Prentiss, I want you here with Rossi and I coordinating response here. Blake and Reid, you go with the sheriff to meet Morgan and JJ at the diner,” 

She opened her mouth to protest, maybe to exclaim that she was one of the best shots on the team, that there was nothing more that she could do on the team here than if she was out in the field with the others, but Hotch’s word was always final, and she knew protesting on such a time constrained operation would only end in her unit chief giving her a timeout on the naughty step. 

So, instead, she bit the inside of her cheek, silenced whatever protest she was going to give because she knew he hated hearing her whine, and within a moment everyone seemed to jump at their orders. 

She caught Spencer’s eye as he trailed behind Blake, wishing now more than ever things oculd be different, because a horrible feeling settled in her gut like a rotten fruit, churning her stomach with horrid thoughts that Spencer was heading straight for the line of fire and she couldn’t so much as give him a hug without it seeming odd. 

She wished more than ever she could grab him in a kiss that Hotch would pretend to not see, that he would understand because the entire team fretted over one another when the cards were dealt and the guns were loaded, wished she could tell Spencer over and over that he needed more than anything to make it back to her safely because she wouldn’t know what to do with all the love she had for him if he wasn’t there to take it. 

Except she couldn’t. Not here. Not so public. 

So instead she flashed him a nod that said a million words and more. I love you, I love you, I love you Spencer Reid. Come back to me because I love you Spencer Reid.

And Spencer got the message, the exchange looking like a plain tilt of the head between coworkers, as he strolled out of the precinct, checking his gun was loaded in his holster. 

His eyes read clear back to her what his reply was, though maybe it was just their spidey sense working overtime, she could have swore she read his mind in the split second that their gaze met. 

I’ll try. I’ll try with everything to come back to you. 

–

“Copy that, two of ours, three of theirs,” Cruz said with little to no inflection as he held out the speaker phone to the middle of the room, and Bugsy felt her breath catch in her throat as she waited for Alex to go on, “Any casualties?”

“One,” She replied, and the Prentiss woman felt her head go funny at the sound of it, “Coleman. Morgan has a superficial wound to his shoulder, little winded from getting shot in the vest but Reid is..” 

Blake trailed off, her throat choking up with emotion as she watched the boy be loaded onto the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. 

“What?” Hotch pressed, and Bugsy would have to thank him later because she could have sworn words had failed her by now. 

“Reid’s been hit in the neck,” She felt her legs go numb, the world spinning around her like someone was playing a cruel joke on her, like she was falling down, down, down into the rabbit hole, down into wonderland, where Spencer was hurt, badly, and she hadn’t been there to stop it. “It’s looking… bad,” 

Hotch flicked a glance at her where they stood in the precinct, and it was only then she realised all the air had whooshed from her lungs in what she suspected had been something between a gasp and a ‘no’, though she couldn’t say for sure because her hearing had been knocked clean from her, a high pitched whine of white noise ringing in her ears, like she’d knocked the signal from a TV, like her brain had been filled with static the second Blake’s voice floated through the phone.

“Bugsy,” It sounded underwater, and suddenly it was too difficult to swallow, until she realised the feeling was that she might just throw up, and she stepped towards the precinct door in some sort of haze, rustling around her pockets for the keys to the SUV, “Bugsy, wait!” 

There was a hand on her shoulder spinning her around as she was hit in the face with cool air, and suddenly Hotch was there, his umber eyes full of concern, Rossi not too far behind him, and it took her Unit Chief all of one swipe to snatch the keys from her. 

“I- We have to go, Hotch- we have to see him,” She babbled, and she was surprised at the fact she didn’t feel like crying. She expected to feel the burn behind her eyes, the tingling and tightness in her throat, only to come up blank. Like her body had taken a back seat, her head working on autopilot because she needed to see spencer for herself, “They need to know he can’t have any narcotics- I need to make sure it’s on his sh-sheet,” 

Her teeth were chattering. It was the middle of July, why were her teeth chattering. 

“I know, I know, he’s in good hands,” Hotch said, in a way that told her he wasn’t being Hotch, that right now he was Aaron. He put a hand on her shoulder, the size of it dwarfing her and he looked at her like he was explaining to Jack why he couldn’t hae chocolate before bed, “I know, we’ll go tell them right now, honey. Just let me drive the car.” 

She nodded without really hearing him, and Rossi opened the front passenger seat door for her, a grandfather’s hand on her back that helped her up into the jeep, because she seemed ready to take a tumble at any point, walking like her knee caps were made from jelly. 

“Has Blake said anything else?” She said, her voice entirely childlike, and David would bet any amount of money that it was the shock. He took a look at her, the way her fingernails were picking around each other already in a bad habit he could already guess came from Emily, and Aaron hopped into the driver’s side of the car, leaning over to grab her seatbelt for her. 

“Not yet, kiddo,” Rossi replied, his eyes soft like a teddy as she nodded dejectedly, and he closed the door on her side of the vehicle, opening the back for himself as Hotch mother henned over her. 

Aaron had expected her to worry, god knows he was well aware that Spencer and Bugsy struggled to function when they weren’t close by. He chided himself for splitting them up, yet he’d thought he was doing his best keeping his team in two equal sized groups both in the field and in the precinct. With JJ’s suspicions of a mole in the police force, Hotch and Rossi needed back up just as badly as the others. And god forbid he had selfishly tried to watch over her. Not because he didn’t think she was capable, but because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened while he’d sent her after an UnSub. 

He knew it was wrong to pick favourites, and truthfully if he had to he’d say his whole team meant something like family to him. But Bugsy was the youngest, the baby if you would, she was mellower than she liked to pretend she was, and she’d carved a small soft spot in his side that he would struggle to get rid of. 

Only now Reid was down, and with him went Bugsy. 

Hotch started the car, quickly navigating his way to the hospital where he knew his team would more than likely already be racing towards in the same state of panic. He caught the way her knee thudded on the carpeted floor, where she tapped her ankle and it took a small glance to his right to see her chewing at her cuticles silently. 

“Bug, he’s in good hands,” He repeated, and she nodded though she didn’t seem to really be listening, “He’s going to be alright,”

Yet part of Aaron felt like he was telling himself that as much as he was telling her. Because if something happened to Reid, he didn’t think any of them would be the same again.

–

Blake heard her before they saw her, the way Hurricane Bugsy usually went.

“I swear to god, you had better let me through this door right now, or I will have your superior on speed dial by the end of the week-” She snapped, her panic quickly turned vitriol anger as the desk assistant who tried blocking her way into the critical unit looked at her somewhat mortified that his job was walking along a fine line. 

Hotch and Rossi had gone straight to where Morgan sat resting in a separate ward, trying to gather more information about the shooter since Morgan had seen the UnSub first hand.

Blake’s head shot up, the wetness around her lashline stinging with guilt as she watched the youngest agent tear through the waiting room as if looking out for blood. Alex was out of her seat on shaking legs, heading towards the girl who she knew would go down in a blur of swings and insults for Spencer Reid. 

“Bug, honey, hey,” Alex’s tone was motherly, as were her soft hands that she placed on the girl’s shoulders, and it didn’t become clear that the source of distress was from a place of fear instead of anger until the girl whipped around to face the voice, and Blake saw the redness rimming her eyes where she had forced the weeping away, likely putting on a brave face and high walls to stop the real emotion swirling inside her. 

Bugsy looked at the older woman, and that was all it took for her lip to quiver. It didn’t help that Alex threw her arms around her, pulling her in for a soft hug, one she had never gotten from Elizabeth Prentiss, one she had been craving her whole childhood, a mother that held her tight and told her she was going to be okay. 

“What happened?” She said, the sob crawling up her throat, bleeding into her words and muddying them with tears, and Alex had to swallow thickly to keep down the wail that pressed tight against her tongue, “What happened?” 

“He pushed me out the way,” She said with a shaky voice, and it took everything inside herself not to cry right there with her. “UnSub was aiming right for me, Spencer grabbed me and pushed me out the way. By that point it was too late, he’d already pulled the trigger, I’m so sorry honey,” 

“Don’t be s-sorry,” She hiccuped pathetically, clinging onto Blake like she was her only lifeline, perhaps the only thing keeping her standing, “I’m glad you’re okay, I was s-so worried,” 

Alex nodded, knowing she might just start crying then and there with the youngest agent if she were to open her mouth, and instead she chose to press a delicate kiss to her temple, hoping it would have to do since the infamous Emily Prentiss wasn’t there to comfort her sister. She seemed to quieten down enough in the embrace that Alex could pull away, her hands still on the girl’s shoulders. 

“I was just doing a crossword if you wanted to join me?” Alex said, which was a half truth since she had been too bothered to get past even the first three clues, and Bugsy nodded, her mind immediately spewing a million mornings of her and Spencer fighting for space at her desk to do the daily crossword. 

She couldn’t think like that, couldn’t think of him as if he was gone. Because he wasn’t, he was simply down that hallway, in the hands of surgeons who could slash his throat if they made even the smallest of nicks wrong-

“Yeah, I would like that,” Bugsy nodded with a sniffle, wiping her cheeks with her cuff, feeling pathetic and entirely regretful for bursting into the waiting room with a million emotions and no idea which one to feel first. 

She had never been good at putting a name to how she felt, only this time, if Alex were to ask her, she knew she would say she felt guilt. Guilt for not being there to help them, for hiding things from them for almost seven months now, for not telling Spencer she loved him more, not reminding him every second of every day, guilt that everyone was hurting over Spencer taking a knock and yet she was the only one who couldn’t smush it down into a box and put on a brave face. 

Because she couldn’t even if she tried. The trojans had a horse, Rocky had Creed, and she had Spencer. She was all mouth and courage and stone faced until it came to him. He was her Achilles Heel.  

She looked over Alex’s shoulder, pointing at seven across, and sighed with the horrific irony of the clue. A feeling of deep regret and remorse. 

“Contrition” She said, slumping into the chair as Alex penned the answer in with a wobbly lip. 

It was going to be a long night. 

–

Hotch found her by the vending machine, looking between the Dr Pepper and the Full Fat Coke like one of them would be able to tell her how to feel. She knew he was waiting for her, knew they had a job to do, but she couldn’t make herself move. She felt like the hospital linoleum had claimed her as its own, like she had melted into the squeaking surface until further notice. 

He was out of surgery by now, already in his room resting. It was just a matter of waking up really, and then they would see how bad things were, though by the sounds of it the doctors had hopes for a miraculous full recovery. 

Two centimetres to the right and it would have been an entirely different story, that’s what the surgeon had said. She was two centimetres away from losing the person she loved more than she ever knew was possible, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. 

She thought for a second then, that if Spencer proposed the second he woke up she would probably say yes. Because she’d said it herself, her life had never been her life until it had him in it. 

“Bugsy,” Hotch tried, but her head had turned down, her chin pressing into her collar and it was then her shoulders began shaking, “Bug, come on, he’s going to be okay,”

She shook her head, biting down hard on her lip to stop a whimper of raw pain coming out, “I should have been there, I could have stopped it, I could have covered him,” She mewled, feeling him wrap a hand around her shoulder, and it was only then he tugged her towards him, letting her whimper into his chest as she clung onto him. 

“I know, I know it’s hard, but he’s going to make a full recovery,” He said in that cotton soft, loving tone usually reserved for Jack when he woke up from nightmares, “None of this was your fault, sweetheart, you have to know that-”

“I can’t do this without him, Hotch,” She said, pulling away just enough to look him in the eyes, and it pained him more than he’d ever admit to see her look so distraught. Memories of when Emily left flooded him and he felt all over again the painful shell she’d crawled into make an appearance, “I can’t,” 

It was a beg, a plea for mercy, a cry for help, and he could do nothing but nod, because he understood. If any of his team died, his team who he loved like a family, he thought he would crumble all the same. 

Only he knew it was different. He’d always known, deep down, why it was different for them. He saw the way Spencer had always looked at her, how damaged and tormented Bugsy’s eyes were as she looked at him now. And he knew. 

“I know, honey,��� He said soothingly, stroking hands over her cheeks to dry them for her, because he couldn’t stand to see her so sodden with tears, “But you know what? You’re going to pick yourself back up until Reid gets better, because we have an UnSub to catch-”

“Hotch, I can’t,” She shook her head, but Hotch only pulled her closer, his eyes boring into hers with more affection than her father had ever shown her. “I can’t-”

“Yes, you can. You know why?” He asked, and she went quiet, shaking her head with a pitiful sniff, “Because I have never once stopped believing in you, even when you hated me, even when you had a damn building dropped on you, even when you were a reckless kid running away from your own wedding, I never stopped thinking that you were the bravest person I’ve ever known. And Spencer never stopped believing in you either,”

Her throat closed up all over again, her eyes wide and threatening to wash her skin with tears all over again as she nodded timidly. 

“Okay?” Hotch said, and she nodded again. He rooted around his blazer pocket for a handkerchief, passing it off to her before he reached for the top button of her shirt. He unbuttoned it with a gentle thumb, poofing her neckline out so she could breath a little better through her dying cries, “Why don’t we get that collar loosened a little for once, huh? Get you a soda, and then we’re going to make this son of a bitch pay for what he did to our genius,” 

Bugsy nodded again, feeling a hundred percent better the second air got onto her throat, and she saw glimpses of what he was like as a dad. Part of her wished then that things would have been different, that maybe she would have had a dad like him, one that knew how to fix things. One that knew just what to say to make her smile. 

He produced a five dollar bill, holding it up for the vending machine to eat as he turned to her, “Alright, now which one are you having?” 

Bugsy thought she might just love Aaron Hotchner ten times more than she already had. 

+1. The one where they tell everyone

She swore she had never run through hospital halls so fast. 

Blake had called her to update her about Garcia shooting the UnSub who posed as a doctor to try and administer lethal doses of medicine to Spencer, and when that hadn’t worked, he’d pulled a gun on her boyfriend and her tech whizz best friend. 

And Penelope had shot him. Killed him. All to save Spencer. 

And she supposed she needed to thank Penelope soon, that she would need to get the girl her own bunch of flowers like the ones she’d quickly excused herself to grab while Hotch and Rossi went straight up into Spencer’s hospital room, even when Aaron had tried to wait for her thinking she was having another crisis of faith, she had ushered him along and told him it was bad form to show up without a card at least. 

She burst through the doors like a bat out of hell, and the sight of Spencer in the scrubs, thick gauze wrapped around his neck made whatever resolve she’d been storing dissolve immediately. Her face crumpled in a cry, and he barely had time to carefully turn his head towards the door, before she had launched herself at him, the flowers and card she had gotten him from the hospital gift shop forgotten and tossed to the floor. 

She would apologise later, because she had ruined his presents despite the sentiment being there; for now she needed to feel him, make sure he was real and breathing and alive the way she’d told herself he wouldn’t be. 

“Bug-” His voice was raspy, no doubt having been drifting in and out of sleep for the past few hours, or even if the doctors had told him to rest his throat so as not to affect the thin, delicate stitches. But it didn’t matter much to her, she didn’t even let him finish anyway before she threw herself at him, minding his wound as she wept onto his chest, her arms wrapping around his waist, “Bugsy, it’s okay, I’m okay,”

But she couldn’t even speak, couldn’t even tell him to stop trying to reassure her, stop trying to make her feel better because he was the one in pain. She felt like a coward; she hadn’t even pulled herself together enough to see him before, when he had still been sleeping. The sight of him on that bed, his eyes squeezed shut… she had turned tail and run before she even gave him a chance. Knew she wouldn’t be able to hold herself together on the case if she went into his room and pretended everything was going to be fine the way Garcia and Blake were doing. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll stop-” She hiccupped, lifting her head up to look at him through distraught, reddened eyes, and she saw his face morphing into pure sorrow, his own hazel hues wide with grief because he hated seeing her in so much pain. 

And she couldn't stop herself, her hands migrated to his cheeks, steering clear of the suture. She didn’t think of the other eyes in the room, or the fact only Penelope knew, she suspected Hotch might have caught on by now anyway, she didn’t frankly care. She wanted to feel him against her, to know he was still hers. 

Bugsy kissed him like he was about to be ripped away from her at any given moment, and had she been in any other mindset she might have cared about the fact she could taste the salt of her tears, that he froze under her brazen affection, or that she surely looked a state after what the past twenty four hours had put her through. She didn’t care when she heard a gasp, or felt stares, only that Spencer kissed her back, possibly the most tender he had ever been, his hands soft and featherlike as they traced over her waist to pull her closer. He tasted like Jell-O, and she thought it might just be her favourite flavour suddenly, because it was all him. 

She pulled away with a sniffle, looking entirely sorry for herself and like a kicked puppy, and she was quickly ripped out of her delirium that allowed her to look at him without guilt or hesitation by a loud whistle. 

“Now how long have you kids been holding that out?” Morgan jeered, and Bugsy cracked a smile, wiping her face on the back of her sleeve as she looked at her team. JJ and Penelope clung to one another with ditsy smiles, like they were watching John Cusack playing the boombox over his head at the bedroom window, Rossi stood with his arms crossed, a nostalgic smile on his face as he watched the kids he’d seen grow up finally seem like they were at home. Morgan looked ready to tease some more until Blake put a hand on his shoulder, entirely motherly and chiding, and Hotch looked at her and her alone like he was looking in a mirror.

He supposed, for once, the bau had found a happy ending. 

--

@release-your-sweets s @smileykiddie08 @caramelised-onions @the-tpd-bau @stephthepeach @sunflowersndpeaches @sammy-4103 @starmansirius @yeonalie @delusionallooney @hades-disappointment-child @sadbae-33 @mdanon027 @swag13r @frickin-bats @bilesxbilinskixlahey @mindfullycriminal l @mrsbellastyles @nilopillo @imagines--galore @bluejaysaysstuff @imaginexred @flow33didontsmoke @spicyspirit @mywellspringoflife @lovelyygirl8 @pleasantwitchgarden @star-girl-interlud3

@rosylnsworld @jamieolivia27 @halcyonwithletters @waywardhunter95 @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @theoraekenslover r @niktwazny303 @bliindmattmurdock @alyeskathewave @littlemadamred @yondiii @cultish-corner @lllucere @escapismurmom @stillhere197 @hiireadstuff @amortencjja @queermaxwooo @telengraph @ivyflowers13 @estrela-rogers @green_vita @busy-buzzing @kitty-kei @universallyblizzardlove @suckstobrlaurie @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @splatteredpurplepaint