#I love how derek was so quick to be like gimme the baby

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

please read A/N at bottom :)

Masterlist

Chapter 31

Spencer knocked on the LaMontagne’s front door.

He heard Jo screaming, “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” on the other side.

He chuckled, opening the door after hearing JJ yell “it’s open” from another room.

Jo bolted towards him and he scooped the little girl up in his arms.

“How excited are you to meet your baby brother and sister?” he grinned.

“This excited!” Jo outreached her arms to the widest they could possibly go.

“Well, they are very excited to meet you too. They are back at the hospital, resting with Mommy,” Spencer smiled.

“Can I come?” Henry asked.

“You’re going to come later Henry with your mom and dad plus the rest of the team,” Spencer explained.

JJ came around the corner, “Yes, Henry. We will go later. We’re going to give them some family time first.”

“Bye guys,” Spencer waved.

“Thank you Auntie JJ for letting me sleep over,” Jo said, “See you later, Henry!”

“Anytime for a kid with such good manners,” JJ smiled.

-

Spencer set Jo down right in front of the door to your hospital room.

“Okay so we are going to be extra gentle with the twins and Mommy and use our quiet voices,” Spencer reminded Jo.

Jo nodded and Spencer opened the door.

“Hi, Baby J,” you smiled, you were holding Ollie because you just finished breastfeeding him.

“Love, Ophelia is in her bassinet right there if you want to get her,” you told Spencer.

Spencer wasted no time picking Ophelia up because he already missed the babies after just a quick ride to JJ’s. He sat right on the edge of the bed.

Jo crawled into Spencer’s lap so she was right underneath him holding the baby.

“This is Ophelia, Princess. She was born 3 minutes earlier than Ollie,” Spencer rested the baby in her lap so she could hold him with his help.

“Hi, Ophelia,” Jo whispered, leaning down to give the baby a little kiss on the forehead.

“Oh that’s very sweet of you,” you smiled, watching the adorable scene unfold in front of you.

Meanwhile, Spencer was a blubbering mess like his body had gone into cuteness overload. You handed him a kleenex.

Oliver made a soft whine in your arms.

“Jo, I think your brother wants to see you now. You will have plenty of time with the both of them in the future, I promise,” you said.

Jo gently crawled into your lap and you set Ollie down in her lap, “So this is Oliver or Ollie for short.”

“Like the baby elephant in the book?”

“Yes, that was all your idea,” you confirmed.

Jo pressed another soft kiss to Oliver’s forehead.

“I love them a lot,” Jo beamed, switching her focus back and forth between the two babies.

“Daddy and I got you something to wear when the team comes if you want, Baby J,” you motioned to Spencer who grabbed a gift wrapped in dinosaur wrapping paper.

You got Jo a little something because you didn’t want her to feel left out since she was used to having you and Spencer’s full undivided attention but now she was going to have to share it with the twins.

Jo unwrapped the gift, revealing a white shirt with ‘big sis’ written on it in colorful letters.

Jo beamed, “I wanna put it on now please.”

Spencer handed you Ophelia before he helped Jo change into her new shirt. Then, she leaned over the babies in your arms and began blowing raspberries to entertain them. They couldn’t laugh yet but they seemed to be enjoying it. Ollie was staring up at his sister curiously while Ophelia was gurgling happily.

-

You heard a rapid knocking on the door and it swung open as soon as Spencer said “Come in!”

A flash of glitter and pink letting out an excited squeal sped past him. Penelope was in front of you before you knew it. She was setting two teddy bears with sweater vests and a bouquet of flowers down on your table.

“These are for the babies,” she gestured to the fuzzy bears, “and those are for you,” she pointed to the bouquet.

“Thank you so much,” you smiled, “you can put them in the twins’ bassinets if you want.”

“I don’t get a gift,” Spencer fake pouted.

“How many babies did you push out of your vagina yesterday, Boy Wonder?” Penelope retorted.

“Well technically she had a C-section but point taken,” he grinned, “The babies are the greatest gift I could ever get anyways.”

“Okay, names! I need names to call my godbabies!” she demanded.

“Yes since we have kind of unofficially decided that Jo’s godparents are JJ and Will. You and Derek will be the godparents of the twins,” you smiled, “whose names are…” you looked to Jo.

“That one is Oliver or Ollie. I named him!,” she proudly pointed to the little baby in your arms.

“And this is Ophelia,” Spencer tilted the baby in his arms slightly to give the team a better look at her face.

“Awwww,” the team smiled.

“Okay, everyone will get a chance but we’ll let the godparents get first dibs at holding the twins,” you said, starting to hand Ollie to Penelope.

“Wait!” Spencer exclaimed, “Please use the hand sanitizer first. I don’t know where you people have been,” Spencer joked.

Spencer bought baby-safe hand sanitizer in advance and put it in the hospital bag. He was very insistent on everyone using it to keep the twins healthy.

After everyone passed around the sanitizer, Penelope reached for Ollie once again, “Gimme this little cutie pie.”

Spencer carefully passed Ophelia to Derek.

“Hi, Ollie. I’m going to have a lot of fun spoiling you,” Penelope beamed.

“Derek, are you crying?” Hotch asked.

“No,” Derek adamantly denied, still not breaking his gaze away from Ophelia in his arms, “It’s just allergies.”

“Oh, then I should probably pass Ophelia to Emily so you don’t get her ‘sick’,” Spencer grinned.

“No! Five more minutes,” Derek insisted, “Ophelia, I’m your Uncle Derek. Can you say De-rek?”

“Morgan, she was born 16 hours, 35 minutes, and 53 seconds ago. She is not going to be talking already,” Spencer stated.

“Hey, you never know with your smarty pants genes, Kid.”

“Reid, coincidentally, today marks the end of your year leave from the BAU. I’m going to need an answer by the end of the day if you’re returning or not,” Hotch stated, “We’ll support you either way but I already have a feeling about your answer.”

Spencer made eye contact with you and then he looked at Jo leaning over Ollie in Penelope’s arms and JJ and Emily playing peek-a-boo with Ophelia in Derek’s arms.

“As much as I love you guys, I can’t come back. I think my heart would physically be ripped out of my chest if I had to leave my family for an extended period of time,” Spencer chuckled.

You smiled softly up at him and he grabbed your hand, kissing it softly with all the admiration and love in the world.

A/N: hello my loves! i am asking you for some feedback here (a comment, an ask, whatever you want). i currently have 2 WIP one-shots (one is A/F and one is just pure fluff). would you like me to prioritize chapters of this fic or try to get my WIPs out and only get out like one RF chapter a week? please understand that even if i prioritize RF chapters they will still be on a delayed schedule. thank you so much for your patience and feedback in advance!

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @rem-ariiana

#spencer reid fluff #dad!spencer #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer x reader #criminal minds #reid x reader #cm fanfic #spencer reid #dr spencer reid

[spencerr31d]

Milkshakes and Fries

Spencer Reid x Reader, fluff. 

This is basically the troupe where person A is cleaning person B’s wounds and they lock eyes and kiss! 

Word count: 1816

You knew how dangerous being out on the field could be, especially since you and your partner, Spencer Reid, were chasing a serial killer through a big, open field. Not the best place for a serial killer to hide in, but it worked for him. But you hadn’t worn the right shoes for an on-foot chase throughout the plains of Oklahoma, so things were a bit difficult for you. But not Reid, while he was lanky and awkward, he managed to catch up with the killer, standing behind him with a gun aimed at him.

You tried to catch up to the two men, but you heard a bang. From a gun. You searched around frantically for who had been shot — it was Spencer. It was just his arm, but you almost had a heart attack. You regained your composure as you shot the unsub in the knee, alerting the rest of your team that the unsub had been apprehended but Reid was injured.

“Y/N, I’m fine, really,” Spencer groaned, clutching his bleeding arm. “It’s fine, I’m fine.”

You rolled your eyes as you crouched down beside the injured doctor, “Reid, shut up. You were shot, you idiot.”

Reid winced as you applied pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding. You and Reid both have had your fair share of injuries, but it was never easy to see your good friend hurt right in front of you. But luckily, the paramedics came quick and stitched him up quickly. The young doctor looked bored as the medics were checking his vitals again.

“Really, I’m fine,” Reid whined as you looked on with a smug smile. “I’m a doctor, trust me!”

You stifled a laugh as the doctor whined like a child. He was always so sure he was fine, that no one should fuss over him. As you walked over, the medics walked away to give you some time with him.

“Reid, you’re not a cut-people-open doctor, you’re a I-like-learning-so-much-I-spent-most-of-my-life-in-college doctor,” you teased and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder of his uninjured arm.

“You know, the cut-people-open doctors spend a lot of time in universities too, but they spend even more time learning outside of the schools,” Reid explained, one of your favorite things about him.

You rolled your eyes, giving him a soft smile. “Hush. If you keep whining, I won’t treat you to a milkshake once they release you.”

Now that got him to shut up for a few minutes. The rest of the team came over to check on Reid, teasing him about getting shot the same way you did. You couldn’t stop smiling as you stared at him, watching his hands as he ran them through his lovely brown hair, watching his lips move as he chatted away.

…Okay, you can admit, you had a bit of a crush on him. But you couldn’t help it! Somehow, in your time working with him, you found yourself falling for the rambling, goofy, awkward man. Spencer Reid had somehow charmed you into falling for him, but you weren’t sure if he felt the same way.

You were whisked out of your thoughts by Reid himself tapping your forehead, “Y/N, can we get that milkshake now?”

“Of course, Doc,” you gave him a soft smile as you led him to the FBI’s van you drove over here. “Did Hotch give us the okay?”

Reid had a bit of a mischievous look to his face, “If we hurry, we don’t need his okay.”

You gave a girlish giggle as you snuck away to the van, Reid closely in tow. The two of you drove off, the team somehow unaware of your disappearance. Reid noticed a diner when the team first arrived to the town, so with his instructions, that’s where you headed. The diner was quiet at this time of night, few patrons and few workers. It was just you and Reid, sitting across from each other in a booth. You kept glancing down at his large hands, you glanced at his beautiful eyes. He was too pretty for his own good, and yet he didn’t really seem to realize it or do anything about it. He could have girls eating out of the palm of his hand if he wanted to. Hell, he could have you eating out of the palm of his hand if he wanted to.

“Y/N,” Reid pulled you back to reality. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Nothing, I’m just spacing out,” you gave him a reassuring smile as you looked at the diner’s menu.

“Not true, you’re doing that thing you do when you think,” Reid started. “The thing with your lips.”

You tilted your head, a ghost of a smile on your face. “What thing with my lips?”

“Normally, people only bite one part of their lips, and chew on it,” Reid explained. “But you take two parts from the middle of your lips and bite, and it makes your mouth look funny.”

You chuckled, he was right, you had a habit of doing that when you thought. “Okay, you have a point. I’m just thinking about stuff, nothing serious.”

Spencer didn’t seem too convinced but he wasn’t going to push you any further. Thankfully so, as the waitress came to your table to get your orders. He ordered a strawberry milkshake, and you got a chocolate one with a side of fries to dip in the shake. It was your favorite treat, if we’re being honest.

The two of you had a simple conversation while waiting for your treats, talking about nothing special in particular. But you couldn’t stop yourself from staring at his wounded arm. The medics gave him some stitches that would help the healing process, but you were worried nonetheless. He’d been through a lot worse than this so you had no reason to worry.

“Hey, Y/N,” Reid muttered, gently placing a large hand over yours. “Stop worrying about me, you know I’ll be fine.”

You let out a heavy sigh, smiling up at your friend. “I know, but I still worry about you when you get hurt. I worry about everyone, Spence, you know that.”

He let out a chuckle, “Yes, I am well aware. But stop that. I’ll go pay for our stuff and we can go back to the hotel so Hotch doesn’t murder us or something.”

You started to protest as Reid slipped out of the booth to pay for the milkshake and fries, but quickly gave up. You picked up the keys and waited near the door for him to finish paying. He strode over to you with his long, lanky legs and held the door open like the true gentleman he was. You hopped back into the driver’s seat and took off towards the motel Hotchner had booked for the case. The team was nowhere to be found, probably slinked off to the nearest bar to relieve their stress — similar to you and Reid but neither of you were really drinkers.

“Okay, Doc,” You sighed as you approached your door to the room you shared with Emily. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

Reid bit his bottom lip (god, that drove you crazy), hesitating to speak, “Actually, do you think you could help me clean up the stitches? The medics said I needed to clean it whenever I got back to the motel, so…”

You felt the warm rush of blood on your ears and cheeks. “Uh, yeah, sure, I don’t, uh, see why not.”

Reid smiled as he led you to his motel room he shared with Morgan. You prayed that he didn’t notice your blush or stuttering but you know he had noticed. He noticed everything. Mostly everything.

After Reid unlocked the door and cut the lights on, he sat on the bed with his sleeve rolled up above the gunshot wound. “My rubbing alcohol and cotton pads are in the bathroom, shouldn’t be hard to miss.”

“Gotcha.”

You made your way to the small bathroom with horrible fluorescent lighting. You glanced at yourself in the mirror, noticing the blush rising to your face and ears once again. Why are you so nervous? You had been with Spencer in a hotel room alone before, thanks to the one time you were “forced” to room together during a case (you suspected Emily and JJ had something to do with it). But something about tonight felt different for some reason. You shook off your worries as you retrieved the necessary supplies to help clean up Spencer’s wound.

“Got it!” You hummed as you approached the bed. “Gimme that arm.”

Spencer groaned as he lifted his arm towards you, wincing a bit. You moistened a cotton round with the alcohol, grabbing Spencer’s forearm with your empty hand.

“This is gonna sting, so don’t be a baby about it,” You warned as you started dabbing around the wounds.

“Ah!” Spencer winced, gritting his teeth.

You rolled your eyes and continued doing what you were doing. “I clearly remember saying ‘Don’t be a baby’, didn’t I?”

“Yeah…” he pouted a little, making him look like a puppy dog.

“Well, if someone hadn’t gotten themselves shot, you wouldn’t have to be dealing with this,” You playfully chided as you looked at his soft eyes, glancing down quickly at his pouted lips.

He huffed as you chuckled and continued making sure the whole area was clean. You couldn’t help but keep glancing at his lips, they were such a lovely shape and shade. It drove you crazy with how much you wanted to kiss him. You, like, desperately wanted to kiss him.

“Y/N?” Spencer questioned, voice barely above a whisper. “Is everything okay?”

“Not really,” you breathed out. “There’s just…a lot on my mind.”

You felt his hand suddenly on your cheek, his thumb slowly brushing your face. He pulled you closer to his face, your breaths mingling together. Spencer looked up into your eyes, a sparkle of…something in his.

“Is it…okay if I kiss you?” Spencer whispered, looking down at your lips and back to your eyes.

You gave a hasty nod. He pulled you even closer, placing his lips softly on your own. His other hand made his way to the back of your neck, causing you to straddle his legs. The kiss was soft and tender. It was perfect.

He was the first to pull away, a sheepish grin on his face to complement the pale blush on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I just…couldn’t help myself.”

“Don’t apologize, idiot,” You muttered and pulled him in for another kiss.

This kiss was quickly interrupted by a Derek Morgan swinging the door open, “Oh-ho, pretty boy! Emily, you owe me $10!”

Spencer glared at the man at the door, forehead pressed against yours as you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck.

#my writing #reader insert #spencerr31dwrites #spencerr31d #Spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

[always-the-little-spoon]

Sterek A-Z Challenge: one word prompts

Week 10: J - Jinx

Stiles puttered around the kitchen in a pair of boxers and one of Derek’s stretched out shirts that had one too many holes from clumsy claws. Theoretically, the shirt should fit him. They were roughly the same height, but Derek’s impressive bulk had only gotten bulkier over the years. The dude was shredded. Stiles totally loved it.

It was strange to be dwarfed by his own boyfriend - a boyfriend that was only two inches taller than him, as he reminded Derek regularly. But the shirt hung off his slightly more trim figure. He wasn’t a twig. He had muscle. Sure, it was leaner, but it was there. For whatever reason, Derek thought he was sexy, and Stiles could live with that.

The best part of wearing Derek’s clothes was that they smelled like Derek. Surreptitiously sniffing things must have been a habit Stiles picked up from years of running with a wolf pack because Derek smelled damn good to him. So good, that Stiles liked to smother himself in Derek’s scent, not that his werewolf boyfriend seemed to mind. In fact, Derek encouraged it.

Stiles still recalled disgust the first time Derek rubbed his cum into Stiles’ skin and bathed him with saliva. Now, it was just a part of the experience. It wasn’t a good time until Stiles was covered in spunk and werewolf kisses. The cuddling was nice too.

Stiles lifted the corner of one of the slices of French Toast in the pan to check for optimal brownage. Yes, that was the technical term. It was a nice golden colour, so he flipped it out onto the plate already stacked with four other slices. He sprinkled a little icing sugar over the top and drizzled maple syrup. The real stuff. Not the fake, artificially flavoured sugar in a bottle usually sold in grocery stores. Living with a werewolf had definitely improved Stiles’ tastes, though curly fries were still the greatest thing ever.

A plate of fresh French Toast in hand, Stiles padded barefoot into the common living area where Derek was currently parked on the couch with his laptop and headphones. The bass from his latest mix pulsed loud enough that Stiles could hear it. He always wondered how Derek could listen to music so loud with his extra-sensitive hearing. But it was that hearing that allowed Derek to do what he did.

Becoming a DJ had been something Derek sort fell into. For the first few months - seven, actually - Derek hadn’t had a lot to do in New York, but apparently, Stiles’ taste in music sucked. So, with his super ears, Derek set out to create what Stiles believed to be genius level tracks that worked on so many different levels, and even managed to slip in a few little easter eggs for other supernaturally inclined that may happen to listen.

“Der,” Stiles called. “Breakfast.” He leaned over the back of the couch and pecked his boyfriend on the cheek. “Stop working, snugglewolf, and spend some time with me before I go to class later.”

Derek snorted and set the giant headphones he used for mixing aside with his laptop. “If I have to,” he said.

Stiles faux gasped, a hand over his heart, and held Derek’s breakfast hostage out of reach, but Derek grabbed him by the back of the neck and dragged him down into a sloppy kiss.

“You are forgiven,” Stiles said, a little breathless. His lips tingled from the rough burn of Derek’s scruff.

“Good,” Derek said. He accepted the plate of food with an extra peck on Stiles’ lips. “Thanks, baby.”

Stiles flushed and mumbled a quick “no problem,” before he scurried back to the kitchen for his own plate. He wasn’t ever going to get used to that. The sweet, cuddle, adorable side of Derek that gave him sleepy kisses in the morning, played with his hair, and snuggled with him as a wolf. God, Stiles loved Derek’s wolf form. He was so warm and cuddly, and he loved belly rubs. But ‘baby?’ Or the far more sexual variation of ‘baby boy,’ and damn, his stomach did that swoopy thing whenever Derek called him that. In bed, he could come just from that.

Derek hadn’t always had a nickname for him. It was a rather recent development that came to be during his second winter break at Columbia a few months ago - the first time they’d gone back to Beacon Hills. Somehow it had evolved into something a little filthier, but at the same time, sweet. Like Stiles could hear both the hunger and the fondness in his tone at the same time.

“So, when do I get to hear your new track?” Stiles asked as he wandered back into the living room with his own breakfast.

“Hmmm?” Derek tilted his head back and watched Stiles upside down. “How about now?”

“Really?” Stiles hopped over the back of the couch and settled in beside Derek with his food. He reached for the headphones just out of reach, fingertips batting at air. “Gimme gimme!”

Derek slid the headphones over Stiles’ ears and nipped at the tip of Stiles’ nose. “You good?”

Stiles nodded eagerly.

It started with a slow steady bass beat with an electronic trill, or whatever it was called. Stiles didn’t know the ins and outs of electronic music and all the fancy names, but he knew that Derek’s music was fucking amazing.

The music built and the bass dropped. Stiles swayed. Derek’s music literally moved him.

“DUDE! THIS IS FREAKING EPIC!” Stiles said, and Derek winced. “I’M TOTALLY YELLING, AREN’T I!”

Derek stole the headphones back. Somehow, he’d managed to devour the French Toast while Stiles had been lost in the ebb and flow of the beat.

“Jesus. You put Lydia’s scream to shame,” Derek said, to which Stiles childishly stuck out his tongue and shoved a bite of syrupy goodness into his mouth.

“It’s totally awesome. Can’t wait to hear it at the club,” Stiles said. “You know what it needs though...”

“More cowbell,” Derek said at the exact same time as Stiles, and rolled his eyes.

“Jinx,” Derek said so fast it left Stiles open mouthed. “What’s wrong, baby? Wolf got your tongue?”

Stiles screeched. It wasn’t words. He hadn’t spoken, so technically, he hadn’t broken the rules of the jinx, but it was all he could do to convey his shock. Not only had Derek gotten the better of him with the sacred art of the jinx, but he was cracking jokes knowing full well that Stiles couldn’t counter with his own witty brand of repartee.

“Well,” Derek said. He polished off the rest of his breakfast and stretched. His old Mets jersey riding up a little, and Stiles moaned quietly. “I’m gonna take a shower. Howl if you need anything.”

Stiles nearly dropped his plate as he squawked in dismay. His mouth opened and closed silently for several moments.

The shower started up in the bathroom on the other side of the apartment, and the shower curtain swished.

Left in the quiet of the apartment alone, Stiles was overcome with a brief rush of panic. His plate clattered on the coffee table. He thundered across the apartment and burst into the bathroom. It was already hot and steamy. Derek liked to take ridiculously hot showers that would scald a regular human. They rarely showered together because of it. Inevitably, someone complained.

Stiles wrenched open the shower curtain to reveal a very naked, wet, and rather amused Derek.

“Yes?” Derek drawled. He lathered his soap and scrubbed himself down as if Stiles wasn’t standing beside the stall gaping at him.

Shaking himself out of his stupor, because hello, sexy naked werewolf, and gestured wildly. He pointed at himself, then held his hands far apart, then brought them close together.

Derek raised his eyebrows at him. “You want a footlong?”

Stiles banged his head against the wall. This wasn’t fair. He needed to know the rules. If someone had to say his real name, the Polish monstrosity that only Derek ever used, then he would be mute the rest of his life, but if his self-proclaimed name of Stiles counted, then he would be talking within a few hours.

Stiles tried to mime his question to Derek again, which earned him a chuckle.

“Yes, your nickname counts as your name,” Derek said and flicked bubbles at him. “As refreshing as the silence will be, I would miss you begging for my cock.” He swished the curtain closed. “Don’t worry. You can still moan around it without speaking.”

Stiles huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t pouting. It wasn’t a pout. It totally wasn’t. He stomped out of the bathroom.

The jinx was sacred. He couldn’t break the rules of the jinx without consequences. When he was younger, he and Scott would solemnly break a jinx placed on the other, no questions asked, but were cruel when they jinxed each other.

One time, Scott was jinxed for three days. His mother almost took him to the doctor because he refused to speak. Stiles had nearly killed himself laughing. His father hadn’t been quite as amused and marched him over to the McCall house to explain.

Stiles skidded into the bedroom. He tripped over a pair of boxers on the floor, probably his, and face planted on the bed two inches from his laptop. That could have hurt.

The laptop fan hummed as Stiles waited for it to boot up. He seriously needed to consider dropping some serious coin on a new one. He’d had the same one since middle school, and as reliable as it was, it was ancient in the tech world. Even Derek had beat him into the modern age with a sleek new MacBook Pro.

Stiles logged into skype. If anyone could help him, it was Scott. He played with a hole in the blanket while he waited for the call to connect. It was probably from one of Derek’s claws. They usually were. Things tended to get a little wild in bed.

“Hey man, I’m a little busy right now,” Scott said as soon as his face popped up on the screen. He was using his phone app because the image was a super close up. “Can I call you back in a bit?”

Stiles flailed and waved his arms about, trying to convey his dilemma through the world’s worst game of charades. He’d always sucked at that. Though surprisingly, with Derek as a partner, he wasn’t terrible. The sourwolf managed to deduce what he was trying to convey most of the time.

“Dude, what the hell,” Scott said. “Are you okay.”

Stiles pointed frantically at his own mouth, opening and closing it silently several times while Scott stared at him in utter bewilderment. He loved the guy, but sometimes, Scott was so helplessly clueless.

“Wait, can you not talk?” Scott finally said, and Stiles nodded. “Oh my god. Oh shit. Okay! Okay! Is it like a curse? Shit.” The camera bounced. Scott’s image was a little blurry as he rushed around his dorm room. “I’ll be on the next flight. We’ll figure this out. Where’s Derek? Is he okay? Can he talk? Are you both physically fine?”

Stiles facepalmed so hard that the slap echoed through the apartment, and Scott stopped. He stood with his head cocked to the side like a dog intently listening until he began laughing hysterically.

“Oh my god, dude. Derek jinxed you. That’s just... oh my god.” Scott laughed so hard that Stiles could see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Man, that’s just too good. Fuck, I can’t help you. He’s telling me not to. Payback for the little girl incident, apparently? I don’t know what that is, but you probably deserve it.”

The incident in question involved Derek in his full shift at the park, and a little girl, around six, who wanted to pet the pretty dog. Stiles had gone along with it, showing her how to give Derek little scritches behind the ears, even if the parents of the little girl had looked terrified that Derek would maul their daughter.

Stiles flipped Scott off and ended the call by shutting his laptop screen. Scott’s laughter carried on for several more seconds before the hibernation kicked in and his computer fell asleep.

Sighing, Stiles curled up on the bed as Derek wandered into their shared bedroom area with a towel slung low on his waist while he ran his fingers through damp hair.

“You okay?” Derek asked. Stiles lifted his head at the soft tone. “You have a few hours before class. Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

Stiles shook his head and shoved his laptop into his bag. His plan had been to hit up the coffee shop at the end of the block to finish his paper on the Japanese folklore roots within the movie Departures. He and Derek had watched it together last week. Or tried to. Somehow it ended with Derek’s cock burned in his throat and bright, glowing blue eyes staring down at him.

By the time Stiles was dressed and in the elevator, he regretted leaving. He’d seen the sad eyes Derek was throwing him, but Stiles couldn't help the insecurity he felt.

What if Derek preferred him quiet? Stiles had always been loud and obnoxious, and Derek told him to shut up... a lot. It led to him being thrown against hard surfaces often, and not in the good way. Well, sometimes in the good way. But usually, Derek was looking for a way to shut him up, and now he had it.

After class, Stiles wasn’t doing much better, and he was no closer to being unjinxed. He’d never realized how little people actually called others by name. Only one girl had said his name when she had chased him down in the quad and asked him out.

The entire experience had been horrifying because he couldn’t even explain that he had a boyfriend. All he could do was shake his head, smile sadly, and hurry away.

God, her expression had been heartbreaking. Stiles hated himself for it. He’d take her for coffee sometime and explain in the least weird and creepy way as possible, maybe even throw in a few shirtless Derek pics for her benefit. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe he had Derek.

His prof had almost seemed relieved he wasn’t contributing to the class. Usually, he openly debated with anyone that would take him on, and tossed in a few of his ideas here or there. By the end of the class, he had snuck so low in his seat, he could barely see over the edge of his laptop screen.

Trudging down the hall to their apartment, Stiles dragged his messenger bag behind him, slumped in defeat. The door opened before he even reached it.

Derek pulled Stiles into a tight hug with his nose buried in Stiles’ neck and whined. “You smell miserable,” he said. “What happened?”

Stiles shook his head and clung to Derek. He couldn’t do much else without speech.

“Are you still jinxed?” Derek pulled back and held Stiles by the shoulders at arms’ length and studied his expression. “Is it really that terrible for you not to speak?”

Stiles huffed and shoved Derek out of the way. The werewolf barely budged, but it was enough for Stiles to slip past him and into the apartment.

At this rate, he was going to need to learn ASL. Scratch that. That sounded like a cool idea anyway. ASL was awesome. Maybe if he taught Derek, they could have silent conversations. 

Not that they didn’t already do that. Derek’s eyebrows were a language of their own, and Stiles had spent years learning to read each minute quirk, movement, and arch. He could write poetry about Derek’s eyebrows. Okay, maybe he already had. But that would never see the light of day.

Ten minutes into the dinner Derek had made, Derek still hadn’t said his name once. It was then, Stiles realized something.

The only time Derek ever called him by name was in bed, when he was worried for his safet or life, or when he told him to shut up. Which happened a lot, but without his ability to speak, it gave Derek no reason to use his name.

Unless...

Stiles hopped off his barstool and spun Derek to face him. He dropped to his knees and forced Derek’s apart, dragging his hands down his boyfriend’s muscular thighs. Smirking, he nuzzled Derek’s large warm hand when it cupped his cheek.

“Fuck, baby,” Derek whined. He ran his thumb over Stiles’ parted lips. “Not right now. Now while you smell so sad. Stiles...” He voice trailed into a low moan as Stiles sucked the thumb into his mouth.

That was two. All he needed was one more, and he was free.

Stiles led Derek across the apartment by the hand and shoved him down on the couch.  He quickly followed and straddled Derek’s lap. It didn’t take much to coax Derek into a sloppy kiss, dinner long forgotten and cooling on the counter in the kitchen. Derek didn’t seem to mind all that much.

Derek whined when Stiles tugged at his hair. His arms curled around Stiles’ waist and dragged him closer until Stiles’ butt settled snugly over the already burgeoning erection trapped in his jeans.

Subtle thrusts devolved into frantic rutting. Stiles attached his mouth to the underside of Derek’s jaw and sucked hickeys into his skin despite the marks disappearing before he begun the next. Derek’s fingers dug into soft curve of his ass, hurriedly rocking against him.

Each little whimper was music to Stiles’ ears. He loved when Derek was like this, so pliant and submissive. Happy to give Stiles free reign and trust him to give Derek the pleasure he deserved, because he did, deserve it, that is. Derek deserved so much, and sometimes it was so hard for his boyfriend to accept that simple truth. Stiles wanted to give Derek the world.

“Fuck... you’re so good, baby boy,” Derek moaned. “So good.”

Stiles slithered to the floor and buried his nose in Derek’s crotch, mouthing the impressive bulge in his jeans. Fingers tightened in his hair, grinding his face into the denim. Stiles couldn’t hold back his own needy moan. He liked being good.

His collar was safely tucked away in its box in the drawer of their bedside table. Stiles hadn’t worn it in awhile. Maybe he needed to. It grounded him. Reminded him he was wanted, needed; loved.

“Do you want this?” Derek murmured. He tilted Stiles head back. It lolled to the side. His lips parted as he panted softly. “Hey... I need to hear it, baby boy. Are you okay?” He cupped Stiles’ flushed, warm cheeks. “Stiles!”

His name. That was his name.

Stiles blinked. “I can talk,” he said slowly. His voice was a little gruff from hours of disuse. He jumped to his feet. “That’s three! I can talk! I’m free!”

“You...” Derek gaped. Stiles could see it slowly sink in. “You little shit. You played me.”

Stiles squealed as Derek tackled him to the floor. He threw his head back against the hardwood floor and laughed as his boyfriend nipped at his jaw and dragged the tip of his nose along Stiles’ throat.

“Good,” Derek growled. “Now you can scream my name.”

Stiles moaned. “Oh, fuck yeah.”

#sterek #teen wolf #little spoon works #stiles stilinski #derek hale #eternalsterek #sterek a-z challenge #sterek a-z #teen wolf fanfic