multi fandoms

writing for multiple fandom | 22 | she/her

[bauxxx]

I write for wlw, mlm and mlw

Fluff , Angst , Smut , Hurt/Comfort , Dead Dove If something does not fall under the examples just ask and I consider whether I do it or not.

I will always keep my works with the warnings so that everyone knows what they are about to read.

My requests are open 🔓

Check my masterlist to see who I write for

m.list

[bauxxx]

I loved your Brennan fic! Practically no one writes for her and you did such an amazing job. Hope you are inspired to write more for her :)

Thank you so much I was just testing the waters with the fic but I'm glad you enjoyed it

[bauxxx]

Title: Uncharted Territory

Fandom: Bones

Pairing: Temperance Brennan x Female Reader

Summary:

Dr. Temperance Brennan has always trusted facts, data, and the certainty of science—but when she meets you on a case, she finds herself facing something she can’t quantify. Confused and unsettled by feelings she’s never experienced before, Brennan turns to Angela Montenegro for guidance. With Angela’s encouragement, Brennan begins to realize that maybe not everything needs to be understood immediately… especially matters of the heart.

The Jeffersonian lab was quieter than usual.

Not silent—never silent—but subdued. The soft hum of equipment, the occasional clink of tools, and the low murmur of voices filled the space. Temperance Brennan stood at the platform, her focus locked on the remains in front of her.

“Cause of death is still inconclusive,” she stated, more to herself than anyone else.

“You sure it’s not blunt force trauma?” Booth asked, leaning casually nearby.

“I am always sure when I make a statement,” Brennan replied without looking up. “And I did not make that statement.”

Before Booth could respond, footsteps echoed from the platform stairs.

“Dr. Brennan?”

The voice was unfamiliar.

Brennan turned—and paused.

You stood there, FBI credentials clipped neatly at your waist, posture professional but not stiff. There was nothing objectively unusual about your appearance. Symmetry within normal ranges. Confident stance. Clear articulation.

And yet—

Brennan blinked.

“Yes?” she said, a beat too late.

“I’ve been assigned to assist on the case,” you explained. “Temporary transfer.”

Booth glanced between the two of you, smirking slightly. “Didn’t know we were getting reinforcements.”

You smiled politely. “I won’t be in your way.”

“That remains to be seen,” Brennan said automatically.

But her tone lacked its usual certainty.

---

It didn’t make sense.

That was the problem.

Brennan prided herself on understanding human behavior—on breaking down emotions into observable, explainable patterns. Attraction, she knew, was rooted in biology. Hormones. Evolutionary drives.

But this?

This was… disruptive.

She found herself noticing you. Not in the detached, observational way she noticed everyone—but in a way that pulled her attention without permission.

The way you spoke—measured, but warm.

The way you listened—actually listened, rather than waiting to respond.

The way your eyes softened when you were thinking.

It was statistically improbable that these details would affect her work efficiency.

And yet—they did.

---

Angela didn’t even look surprised.

“You have a crush,” Angela Montenegro said, spinning slightly in her chair, a knowing smile already forming.

“I do not,” Brennan replied immediately.

Angela raised an eyebrow. “Sweetie, you walked in here, sat down, and said, ‘Angela, I am experiencing a physiological response I cannot categorize when I am near a particular individual.’”

“That is an accurate description.”

“That is also the most Brennan way to say ‘I like someone’ I’ve ever heard.”

Brennan crossed her arms. “The individual in question is female.”

Angela’s smile softened.

“And?” she asked gently.

Brennan hesitated.

“I have never experienced attraction toward a woman before,” she said. “Statistically, by my age—forty—I should have already established a consistent pattern of attraction.”

Angela leaned forward slightly. “Sweetie… people figure things out at all kinds of ages.”

“That is not consistent with most developmental models.”

“Yeah, well,” Angela shrugged, “life doesn’t always follow models.”

Brennan frowned, processing.

“I do not understand why this is happening now.”

“Maybe because you met the right person now,” Angela said simply.

That… wasn’t a scientific answer.

But Brennan didn’t dismiss it.

Angela reached over, resting a hand over Brennan’s.

“It’s okay not to have everything mapped out,” she said softly. “You don’t need to label it right away. You just need to be honest about how you feel.”

Brennan looked down at their hands, then back up.

“What would honesty require in this situation?”

Angela grinned.

“It requires you to ask her out.”

---

The case closed two days later.

Cause of death determined. Perpetrator identified. Justice, as Booth liked to say, served.

Brennan stood near the exit, hands loosely clasped, watching as you gathered your things.

Her heart rate had increased.

Not dramatically—but noticeably.

You glanced up, catching her watching you. “Dr. Brennan?”

She stepped forward.

“There is something I would like to discuss with you,” she said.

You tilted your head slightly. “Sure.”

Brennan inhaled.

“I have recently become aware of a series of physiological and emotional responses I experience in your presence,” she began.

You blinked.

She continued, unwavering.

“These responses are consistent with what is commonly categorized as romantic attraction, although this represents a deviation from my previous patterns of attraction.”

There was a pause.

Then—

You smiled.

Not confused. Not uncomfortable.

Just… warm.

“I see,” you said.

Brennan nodded once. “Angela suggested that the appropriate course of action would be to ask you on a date.”

Your smile widened slightly.

“And what do you think?” you asked.

Brennan considered that.

“I think,” she said slowly, “that despite the uncertainty, I would like to pursue further data.”

You laughed softly.

“I’d like that too,” you said.

Brennan felt something settle in her chest—not certainty, not entirely.

But something… steady.

Uncharted territory, yes.

But not unknowable.

And for once, she found that she didn’t need all the answers before taking the first step.

[bauxxx]

💙 -fluff 🔥 -smut 💔 -angst

BONES MASTERLIST

Temperance Brennan

Uncharted Territory-💙

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

[bauxxx]

Title: Last Call, Don’t Go — Part II

Fandom: The L Word

Pairing: Shane McCutcheon x Female Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy themes, emotional vulnerability, big life changes

Summary: Four months after choosing each other, everything has changed. You stayed. Shane stayed. And now, standing on the edge of something bigger than both of you, your first appointment makes it all real in a way neither of you can ignore.

Four months ago, you were packing your life into boxes.

Now, you were sitting in a doctor’s office with your hand locked in Shane’s, your leg bouncing uncontrollably as you stared at a poster about prenatal development like it might calm you down.

It didn’t.

“You’re shaking,” Shane murmured.

“I’m not,” you said automatically.

She squeezed your hand gently. “You are.”

You exhaled, your free hand pressing against your thigh. “Okay, yeah. Maybe a little.”

“A little?” she teased softly, nudging your knee with hers. “You’re vibrating.”

You shot her a look, but it didn’t hold any heat.

“I just—” you swallowed. “This is… a lot.”

Shane didn’t argue with that.

Because it was.

---

You hadn’t meant to drop out.

At least, not at first.

You told yourself you were just taking a break. That you’d go back eventually. That everything wasn’t changing all at once.

But then one decision led to another.

Staying turned into building a life.

Building a life turned into late-night conversations, whispered what-ifs, and Shane—surprisingly, impossibly—being the one to bring it up again.

Not panicked this time.

Not rushed.

Careful.

Intentional.

---

“We don’t have to do this right away,” she’d said one night, sitting beside you on the couch, fingers nervously tapping against her knee. “I just… I keep thinking about it. About us.”

You studied her. “You mean it this time.”

“I meant it before,” she said quietly. “I just didn’t know how to say it without… freaking out.”

“And now?”

She met your eyes. “Now I’m still freaking out. I just don’t want that to stop me.”

---

It took weeks of talking.

Research.

More talking.

And eventually, a plan.

---

Because what Shane had suggested wasn’t impossible.

With the help of reproductive medicine, it was something you could actually do.

Her egg.

Donor sperm.

Fertilized through In Vitro Fertilization—IVF.

And then transferred into you.

You carrying her biological child.

---

The process hadn’t been simple.

There were consultations, blood tests, screenings—appointments that made everything feel clinical before it felt real.

Shane had been there for all of it.

Every single one.

Even when she looked like she wanted to bolt the second you stepped into a waiting room.

She never did.

---

And now—

“Y/N?” a nurse called.

You froze.

Shane stood first, tugging you gently to your feet. “C’mon.”

Your fingers tightened around hers. “Wait.”

She paused, turning back to you. “What?”

“What if something’s wrong?”

Her expression softened instantly. “Hey… look at me.”

You did.

“We don’t know that,” she said gently. “And whatever happens—we deal with it. Together. Okay?”

You nodded, even though your chest still felt tight.

“Okay.”

---

The exam room was smaller than you expected.

Too bright.

Too quiet.

You sat on the edge of the table, paper crinkling beneath you as Shane hovered close, one hand resting on your knee like she needed the contact just as much as you did.

“This is weird,” you muttered.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Little bit.”

You glanced at her. “You okay?”

She huffed a quiet laugh. “Ask me in five minutes.”

---

When the doctor came in, everything started moving too fast and too slow at the same time.

Questions.

Dates.

Confirmations.

“Yes, embryo transfer was two weeks ago.”

“Yes, first pregnancy.”

“No complications so far.”

You barely processed half of it.

Until—

“Would you like to do an early check?”

Your heart skipped. “We can?”

The doctor nodded. “It’s very early, so we won’t see much yet—but we can take a look.”

You looked at Shane.

Her eyes were already on you.

“Do you want to?” she asked.

You hesitated.

Then nodded. “Yeah. I think I do.”

---

Your hand found hers again as the lights dimmed slightly.

The moment stretched.

Quiet.

Heavy.

Real.

---

“There,” the doctor said gently after a moment.

You blinked. “Where?”

She pointed to the screen.

It wasn’t what you expected.

No clear shape.

No tiny features.

Just something small.

Barely there.

But—

“That’s…” your voice caught.

“The gestational sac,” the doctor explained softly. “Right where it should be.”

Your grip on Shane tightened.

“Oh my god,” you whispered.

---

You turned your head.

Shane was staring at the screen like it might disappear if she blinked.

Her usual composure was gone.

Replaced by something open.

Unfiltered.

“You see that?” you said, your voice shaking slightly.

She nodded, eyes still locked on it. “Yeah.”

“That’s… ours.”

That did it.

Her hand came up to cover her mouth for a second, like she was trying to hold something in.

A laugh.

A breath.

Maybe both.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “It is.”

---

When the appointment ended, neither of you moved right away.

It felt wrong to just… leave.

Like stepping out of that room would make it less real.

---

“You okay?” you asked softly.

Shane let out a slow breath, running a hand through her hair.

“I don’t think ‘okay’ covers it,” she admitted.

You smiled a little. “Good or bad?”

She looked at you.

Really looked at you.

“Good,” she said. “Terrifying. But… good.”

---

Your hand drifted down, resting lightly against your stomach.

It felt the same.

No different.

But somehow, everything had changed.

---

“You sure you’re okay with all this?” you asked after a moment. “I mean… really.”

Shane didn’t hesitate this time.

She stepped closer, her hand covering yours where it rested.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.

You searched her face.

“No running?”

She shook her head.

“Not from this.”

Her thumb brushed gently over your knuckles.

“Not from you.”

---

And for the first time since all of this started—

You believed her.

[bauxxx]

THE L WORD/ GENERATION Q MASTERLIST

shane mccutcheon

Last Call, Don’t Go part | 💙+💔

Last Call, Don’t Go — Part II 💙

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

[bauxxx]

Title: Last Call, Don’t Go part |

Fandom: The L Word

Pairing: Shane McCutcheon x Female Reader

Warnings: Emotional tension, commitment issues, on/off relationship dynamics

Summary: What started as a casual spark between a guarded bar owner and a college student turned into something messy, magnetic, and impossible to quit. But when you decide to leave for Austin, Shane is forced to confront the one thing she’s always run from—wanting something real… and asking you to stay in the most unexpected way.

The first time you met Shane, she didn’t even look up when you walked into the bar.

It was loud, crowded, the kind of place that smelled like cheap beer and expensive heartbreak. You were underdressed, underprepared, and way too young to feel as exhausted as you did—but there you were, sliding onto a barstool like you belonged.

“Fake ID?” she asked flatly, finally glancing at you.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

Shane smirked, pushing a glass toward you anyway. “Kidding. You just look like you’ve got midterms and bad decisions written all over you.”

You laughed despite yourself. “Close. Finals.”

“Worse,” she muttered.

That was it. That was all it took.

---

It wasn’t supposed to turn into anything.

You had classes, deadlines, a whole life that didn’t revolve around late nights and bar lights. Shane had… well, whatever Shane had. You never quite figured that part out.

She’d disappear for days. Weeks, sometimes.

And then she’d show up again—leaning in your doorway like she never left, like you hadn’t spent nights wondering if she’d gotten bored of you.

“Miss me?” she’d ask, like it was a joke.

You always said no.

You always let her in anyway.

---

“Why do you do that?” you asked one night, curled up beside her in your tiny apartment.

“Do what?”

“Leave.”

Shane stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

She turned her head, eyes softer than you expected. “It’s the only one I’ve got.”

You swallowed. “You don’t get to keep coming back like nothing happened.”

“Then don’t let me.”

The words hit harder than they should have.

Because she wasn’t wrong.

---

The thing about Shane was—she never promised you anything.

So you couldn’t say she broke your heart.

Not really.

---

By the time you told her about Austin, you thought you were finally done.

“I got accepted,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Transfer program. It’s… a really good opportunity.”

Shane nodded like it didn’t matter. Like it was just another thing.

“That’s great.”

You waited.

She didn’t say anything else.

---

You didn’t see her for two weeks after that.

No texts. No late-night knocks. Nothing.

It hurt more than you expected.

But maybe that was the point.

---

You were halfway through packing when she showed up.

Of course she did.

“Hey,” she said, like she hadn’t vanished. Like you hadn’t been counting the days.

You didn’t look at her. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“I know.”

You zipped your suitcase harder than necessary. “I’m serious, Shane. I’m leaving in three days. I don’t have time for this anymore.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you here?”

Silence stretched between you.

When you finally turned, she looked… different.

Not detached. Not guarded.

Scared.

“I don’t want you to go.”

Your chest tightened. “You don’t get to say that now.”

“I know.”

“Then stop saying it like it changes anything!”

“It does,” she said quietly.

You shook your head. “No, it doesn’t. You don’t do relationships, Shane. You don’t stay. That’s your whole thing.”

She stepped closer. “What if I want to?”

You laughed bitterly. “Since when?”

“Since you.”

That stopped you.

---

“I’m serious,” she said, running a hand through her hair, pacing like she didn’t know what to do with herself. “I don’t… I don’t know how to do this right, okay? I screw things up, I leave, I come back—yeah, I know. I know. But you… you’re different.”

“You always say things like that,” you whispered.

“I’ve never meant it like this.”

You hesitated. “Then what do you mean?”

She looked at you—really looked at you—and for once, she didn’t look away.

“I mean I don’t want a life that doesn’t have you in it.”

Your breath caught.

“Shane…”

“I’m freaking out,” she admitted, voice low. “You’re leaving, and I can’t just… pretend I’m fine with that. I’m not.”

“Then what are you asking me?” you said, barely above a whisper.

She hesitated.

For the first time since you’d known her, Shane McCutcheon looked unsure.

“I want… something real,” she said slowly. “With you.”

You stared at her. “That’s not enough.”

“I know.”

“Then what?”

Her jaw tightened, like she was forcing the words out.

“I want a future,” she said. “A family.”

You blinked. “Shane—”

“I want a baby,” she rushed out.

The room went completely still.

---

“A baby?” you repeated, stunned.

“Yeah.”

“Shane, that’s not—” you shook your head, overwhelmed. “That’s not something you just say when you’re panicking.”

“I’m not just panicking,” she said. “Okay, maybe I am a little—but I mean it. I’ve been thinking about it. About you. About… staying.”

You crossed your arms, trying to ground yourself. “You don’t even stay overnight half the time.”

“I could.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“I know it’s not,” she said, softer now. “But I want to try. For real this time.”

You searched her face, looking for the usual signs—deflection, distance, an escape route.

But there wasn’t one.

Just her.

Raw and scared and trying.

---

“You’re asking me to give up everything I’ve worked for,” you said carefully.

“I’m asking you to consider staying,” she corrected. “Or… letting me come with you.”

That caught you off guard.

“You’d leave?” you asked.

“For you? Yeah.”

Your heart twisted.

---

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy.

It was fragile.

Like one wrong move could break everything.

---

“I don’t know if I’m ready for a baby,” you admitted.

“Okay.”

“I don’t even know if I’m ready for… this.”

“Okay.”

“But I do know I’m tired of almost having you.”

Shane nodded slowly. “Yeah. Me too.”

---

You took a breath.

“Then if we do this… we do it for real.”

“I’m in,” she said immediately.

“No disappearing.”

“I won’t.”

“No showing up like nothing happened.”

“I won’t.”

You held her gaze. “And no big, life-changing decisions just because you’re scared.”

She exhaled, a small, almost relieved smile tugging at her lips. “Okay. That one’s fair.”

---

You stepped closer.

“So maybe… we don’t start with a baby.”

She huffed a quiet laugh. “Probably a good call.”

“But we start with something.”

Her expression softened. “Yeah.”

---

For once, Shane didn’t rush it.

She didn’t pull away.

She just stayed.

And somehow, that felt bigger than anything she’d said.

[sleepymissy]

━ to interrupt an act...or two (18+)

( tim bradford x lucy chen x girl!reader )

SUMMARY: after catching your boyfriend cheating on you, you find yourself running back to your apartment hoping to be comforted by your best friends. thankfully, lucy and tim know exactly how to make you feel better. AUTHOR'S NOTE: uh oh SHE'S BACKKK! thought i'd kill two birds with one stone and complete this request AND this one too so i hope you like it @sacredwarrior88 and @shadowhuntyi sorry it took me so long! i did tweak it up a bit but it's still on the baseline of these requests. it's kind of more comedic than serious LOL. ENJOY!! MDNI FOR THE SAKE OF YOUR INNOCENCE!!! INCLUDES: reader is lucy's only roommate (no tamara or jackson I KNOW IM SORRY HATE ME), caught in the act, cheating (not by the reader, tim or lucy), comforting sex, couch sex, threesome, soft!dom lucy, soft!dom tim, sub!reader, pet names, no use of Y/N, cursing, dirty talk, PRAISE LOTS OF PRAISE (i see you @simplyhale), body worship, unprotective sex, hickeys/marking, reader is centre of attention, fingering, cunnilingus (reader receives + gives), REALLL FILTHY, nipple play, author regrets NOTHING, lowkey unedited cba LOL. WORDS: 10.5K+

Tim and Lucy.

Ever the two people you've wanted in this lifetime, and yet, the only two people you can't have.

It's amusing, really, as you admire with sulky eyes and a fast-beating heart at how they sit side-by-side together on the couch that lay in the middle of yours and Lucy's apartment, watching how gently they speak to one another, look at each other, feel together- all the things you so selfishly wished they did to you.

You know you shouldn't be thinking this way, especially as you're attaching the last elegant pieces of jewellery before you head out to see your boyfriend for a date. But, how could you stop your thoughts...your thoughts that are so realistic, so true?

You've known these two beings the moment you became a police officer and they've moulded you into the person and cop you are to this day- a fucking good one, at that.

You met Lucy at the police academy and the moment you two embraced each other into a hug that reminded you of a warm blanket that just came out of the drier, things just...instantly felt right with her.

So instantly that when she sparked up about needing a roommate, you shook hands with her on it- which only grew you two closer than before.

You were no longer just spending extraordinarily long hours on shift with her, but you were also making pancakes in the morning together and drinking wine on the couch amidst a starry night- the both of you huddled close with one another and so lost in conversations that the TV became white noise in the background.

Looking at Lucy is a delight- she's so sweet, so kind, and she gets you on levels no one else could dare to.

That is until Tim challenged that.

And, oh boy, did he get you.

For Lucy, it was understandable- out of the 24 hours that milked the day, you spent 20 of them with her. And she's a friendly, familiar face- of course, you're going to tell each other secrets you swore to yourself you were never going to tell.

But with Tim, you didn't need to tell him anything, it was like he took one second looking at you and he knew exactly how you preferred your coffee.

Sure, you never saw Tim in the light of friendship when he was Lucy's TO- considering you and Lucy moaned and groaned about how much of a fucking jackass he was. But, when you and Lucy became P2's and Tim started dating Lucy, he was just that bit easier to talk to.

Precisely, you don't know when you two got closer, but somehow your respectable greetings of nods turned into hello, and his you're riding with me today, Boot morphed into let's ride together, yeah? Then, his policy of no personal conversations in his shop became a lot more personal by the time you two started laughing over how your failed blind date went with a stranger on Tinder.

And with that, you, Tim and Lucy started seeing each other more and more outside of work; down at the local pub, food trucks between and after work hours, and even moreso at the apartment when a bottle of wine called your name.

The good thing out of all of this? You three bonded into a trio no one - not even Sergeant Grey - saw coming. Sure, people saw it as you third-wheeling Tim and Lucy, but no matter how many times you tried to tell them about it, they persisted they wanted you to hang out with them.

You had your differing personas and yet, somehow, they all just fit together perfectly and in sync.

It was perfect for some time when you three almost spent every single day together, never finding a reason to get bored with one or the other as you got to learn more about them, and they got to learn more about you.

Even the...specific things. Things you never thought would be shared amongst your best friend, let alone your superior.

Things like love languages and how Lucy likes physical touch, particularly when her hair is played with, or that Tim's is quality time- especially when he's hanging around you and Lucy.

They caught onto yours quickly the moment you blushed heavily at Lucy calling you a pretty girl or Tim mentioning how well you did at work today.

At first, you shrugged those conversations off like they didn't mean as much as they really did. Whatever. Friends can tell each other their personal needs and wants without making it weird.

But then, you three kept having these nights more and more. And with each couch session with the couple, you all opened up, exposing one another to depths of vulnerability that maybe- perhaps, you all didn't need to know.

Especially one night.

You three were tangled messily on the couch, hiccuping from the aftermath of consuming bottles upon bottles of wine while speaking of things that you never would admit sober.

Lucy, with pink cheeks and a shy grin, confessed that she'd eaten a girl out once back in her college days, and Tim mumbled that he loves rough sex.

When it came to your turn, you blushed.

"I've...Jesus Christ- um-" You remember faulting beneath their curious yet intimidating gazes, reddening by the second as you grasped the wine glass tighter within your palms, "-on my...sex bucket list-"

Tim snorted, his unoccupied hand rubbing up and down one of your silky legs, "You have a sex bucket list?"

"Well duh," You quirked back, "Who doesn't?"

Lucy nodded her head with a cheeky grin as she nuzzled her head on Tim's shoulder, "Don't worry girl, I've got one too."

You continued, "#1 on the top is...to be a part of a threesome."

You didn't mention that you wanted to be a part of a threesome...with them.

Once your confession came out, however, you remember there being a heartbeat of silence that followed it. Tim stopped rubbing your leg, and Lucy halted mid-sip.

At first, you felt embarrassed- fuck, you could have said anything, but you said that?

You had sunk your body into the cushions beneath your warm back from where you laid, and your legs that were draped over Tim's lap were beginning to shrink from his embrace.

But then, they both hummed, and there was a look on their face that didn't exactly scream judgement.

More like...

Oh, like they wanted that too.

(You all were thinking about each other)

"Hey, wouldn't that be hot?" Lucy perked up first, a fire igniting in her eyes as she leaned closer.

Tim nodded in agreeance, going back to brushing his fingers on your leg. Except, this time, an underlining ounce of energy and tension was charged to his touch and he tilted his head to gaze down at your flushed face, "Yeah, I mean I've thought about that too."

But between the new heated expressions on their faces, and of course, your shocked response to their response, all that you could muster up was an "Oh," after you swallowed deeply.

You think about that night often. Especially because since then, you've mustered up feelings you never quite knew were already festering within you. It was sickening, like a disease, how you could have a crush on the two people you could never get.

It didn't help that there were still the lingering stares, close proximity touches and vulnerable conversations between them and you. And their praises and pet names weren't letting down either- constantly finding ways to purr compliments and affirmations that made your body react in a way a friend's wording shouldn't.

It ached your heart because, how could they do these things to you and it not mean anything?

Of course, it didn't- they're a fucking couple.

But still, there was so much love your poor heart wanted to give them and you couldn't- how could you disrespect their relationship like that?

Except, to what your oblivious self thinks it knows, Tim and Lucy like you just as much as you do to them.

You're just so...fuck, you're everything to them.

For Tim and Lucy, dating each other was easy in a way they hadn't expected. From their history of TO and Rookie, they already knew how the other coordinated, so their relationship morphed into something so natural and right.

But, like a itch to scratch or a hole to their hearts, it always felt like their relationship was missing something....someone.

And every time they hung out with you and all your chaos, warmth, and light intertwined, their relationship felt fulfilled.

Even before Tim and Lucy got together, they couldn't stop watching you. How you laugh and smile and tell stories with a twinkle in your eyes- it's all so mesmerising, so authentically you.

Which has put Tim and Lucy in a struggle because, how could they know you wanted them too? It's not like you've ever voiced it- not that they'd even expect you to.

But, when you muttered with that cute blush on your cheeks that you wanted to have a threesome, Tim and Lucy's world stopped spinning for that second.

You never mentioned it being with them, sure, but it meant if an opportunity was given to them, they would take any chance they could giving you exactly what you wanted.

That is, until, you started dating your boyfriend.

You just couldn't handle it anymore. You had so much love to give with no place to call home. So out of the desperations of your heart, when you bumped into your current boyfriend at the station, you clung to him.

Which, in hindsight, was fucking stupid. Especially because since you've been with him for three months, you've grown to really hate the guy. And if you exclude the context, that's quite cruel to say.

But, when your wants and needs are constantly neglected and you feel like your boyfriend has never once opened his ears to listen to you, nor his eyes to see who you are, it's hard to keep the chemistry blossoming.

And I guess it doesn't help when once you started dating your boyfriend, your two best friends held back from giving you any attention (Of course, they did. In their eyes, you getting a boyfriend meant you didn't want their touches or praises and etc). Even worse, they show you almost every fucking day just how much you're missing out on what you and many others seek in this God-forsaken life...the beauty of love.

Like right now, as your eyes constantly lose their attention to adding your last earring into its respective place because your gaze keeps landing on Tim and Lucy sitting on the couch through your bedroom mirror.

You watch when Tim reaches out with delicate fingers to tuck loose strands of dark brown hair behind one of Lucy's ears, and you want to knock yourself out with this mirror.

You're jealous.

Of course you are- how couldn't you be? They're everything you want.

You avert your stare away and complete the last addition of your jewellery. Then, you manoeuvre to the edge of your bed where your shoes await your embrace, and you glance over at your phone.

You can't stop the hefty sigh that escapes you when you realise your useless boyfriend still hasn't replied to your text of hey, are you still picking me up?

You're assuming the answer is no with his lack of communication, despite you sending it two hours ago.

Tim and Lucy, still giggling upon whatever conversation they've found comfort in, turn to their right to spot your seated figure on your bed.

You're gorgeous- so fucking gorgeous in their eyes, with your mini black dress and the red heels you've just begun to place on your feet that compliment you better than ever.

"Hey, girl, do you need a lift at all?" Lucy asks with that familiar warmness you've grown fond of, and you angle your head up to meet her very own eyes.

You want to cry- it's like she knew exactly that your boyfriend wasn't going to pick you up. But still, you shake your head with a small sad smile as you place your last heel to your left foot, "Thank you, Lucy, but I'll be good."

"What are you doing tonight anyway?" Tim pikes up, both of their orbs following you as you place your handbag on your shoulder and walk out of your room and into the kitchen.

You open the fridge, chillness welcoming your hot cheeks as you look inside, "I'm going on a date with the boyfriend," You answer lowly, your focus more set on deciding which wine to bring for BYO.

"Ah yeah! A date with..." Tim pauses, quickly glancing at Lucy as he lowers his voice to a whisper- though your ears are still in reach to hear him, "Wait...what's his name?"

Is that how unimportant he is to you? Your friends don't even remember his name?

Pulling a white wine out, you turn around to face the confused pair, "Lucas." But, there's no malice to your tone- at this point, you couldn't care less if you forgot his name too.

Out of the kindness of their hearts (though they forgot to actually put any authenticity to their response), Lucy and Tim hum contently with an oh yeah, that's his name! as they nod their heads in understanding.

"Well, that movie we like so much just came out with a sequel!" Lucy perks up just as you reach your apartment's door knob, "Want me to wait until you come back so we can all watch it together? You know...like old times."

Your chest drops, heavy.

Empty bottles of wine and beer, legs tangled together, warmth radiating between one another, laughter intoxicating the air, hands intertwined, heads resting next to one another.

"I wish," You murmur- and honestly, you do. "I just don't know how long we'll be out, don't wait for me though, yeah?"

They notice the smile you send them and how it doesn't quite reach your eyes, but they put no question to it.

"Oh, okay," She responds, that spark of hope slowly draining away from the two. Lucy gives back a caring smile of her own, "Well, have so much fun, babe- and call us if you need us!"

Just as you open the door, you turn to give them a quick look-over.

Fuck, you'd rather be with them right now.

Your mutter of; "Thanks," is the last they hear from you before you shut the door behind you, your heels echoing in the distance.

━━ ✩*ೃ.⋆ ━━

"Stupid, stupid, stupid." You curse yourself as your storm to your boyfriend's apartment, a rougher click to your heels with each step you take and your hands clutching so tightly to your phone your fingers might just cramp any moment now.

Your furrowed brows and strained eyes stare at your stream of missed calls and unread messages that you've been sending to your boyfriend.

hey, are you still picking me up?

━ Missed call.

just driving to yours now x

got a white wine, hope that's okay!

i'm at the front of your building, do you want me to wait or go to your apartment?

━ Missed call.

━ Missed call.

you better not be asleep

okay whatever i'm walking to your apartment

━ Missed call.

"Ugh!" You groan, throwing your hands up in the air because screaming as load as possible isn't quite the ethical response to your boyfriend not answering you.

With a huff and a slight pant to your breath from how many stairs you just flew (in your heels), you reach your boyfriend's number, wasting no more time fiddling with the spare key he once gave you into the door's lock.

Tim and Lucy would never do this to you. Never.

And when you open the door with a rough force and a shout of your boyfriend's name, you really wish you just fucking stayed at home with them.

Because what stands in front of you, in the small confines of your boyfriend's pathetic excuse of an apartment, might just be the most humiliating sighting of your life.

And with the job you work, with all the shit that criminals and the chain of command put you through, that's saying something.

Your boyfriend; shirtless with crimson kiss marks scattered along his neck and back, tailored suit pants cuffed under his ass as he pounds into a random fucking girl on his bed.

You freeze. They freeze. Everything around you revolving and shrinking into this one second of a moment.

They're both staring at you, mid-thrust, with eyes filled with shock and surprise and lips plump and abused, her lipstick clearly smeared and shared between the two.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" You finally yell, unable to stop the tears beginning to form in your cuticles as your stare darts all over the place- like you've just clocked onto work and you're memorising each and every piece of evidence in the scene.

The apartment is messy, his bed sheets are thrown off the mattress and your eyes can't seem to tear away from what you unfortunately have to label as your boyfriend cheating on you.

"I-" He starts off, but he stutters as his brain tries to form a good enough excuse for this, "I thought you were coming at 7!"

Blood seethes throughout your body's stream with your heart thumping at a pace you wouldn't dare to count, "You dickhead, it is 7!" And you face your phone's lockscreen that obviously flashes 7:03pm.

Your boyfriend- ex boyfriend scrunches his face up in defeat, "Ah, fuck..." And he finally pulls out of the girl, "Doll, I'm sorry, I was gonna tell you but-"

Ignorant to his apology, your eyes catch onto the metal restrictors wrapped around the girl's wrists and how they clang against the bed frame.

"No way..." Your jaw slacks, completely cutting him off as you point to the girl's restricted wrist, "Are those my handcuffs?!"

You all turn to the handcuffs, shining against the apartment's dim warm light and the imprint on the metal that clearly reads: LAPD | Serial No. 472839.

"W-Wha-"

"Oh. My. God. You piece of shit!" You scream, grabbing the nearest thing - a picture frame of...himself - and you throw it at him. He dodges it and it pierces the wall behind him with a thud, "Give those back to me, for fuck's sake! I thought I lost them!"

Your boyfriend gulps, "I...um- funny you say that..." He scratches the back of his neck, "I don't know where the keys are..."

Now, his mistress and you look at each other, then turn back at him, both eyes wider than before as you simultaneously yell, "What?!"

He throws his hands up, "I'm sorry! I thought there would've been a quick-release lever...or something."

"You-" You stomp closer, "Dumb-" You push your hands to his chest, "Fuck!" You point to the now shaking, crying mistress, "They're real handcuffs for stupid idiots like you! Seriously, you better hand those back to the station when you're done fucking. God, you're so embarrassing!" And you can't even look at him in the eyes as you wipe at your wet cheeks- your mascara and foundation appearing on your shaking fingers as you pull away.

You take one glance around the room before you walk backwards to the door.

Your boyfriend sighs, urgently standing up as he begins to follow you, "I'm sorry, Doll, please come back and we'll talk about it!"

But as you open his door with a jerk, you study him up and down with disgust, cringing at his dick still hanging out and the hickeys planted across...across every-fucking-where, "How the hell did I ever stay with someone like you?" You hiss.

And you slam the door on your way out.

━━ ✩*ೃ.⋆ ━━

Your feet cry in relief as they walk unclothed from your heels with said shoes barely dangling from your fingertips. Your walk is slow and...numb, and your breathing is erratic as you choke on your whimpers and sniffles.

You've just sobbed for thirty minutes straight in your car.

The worst part?

It wasn't even about your boyfriend. At least, not for the majority of it.

The thoughts that haunted you more were on how unloved you feel, how unseen and unappreciated you think you are.

It's true, it really is.

All you want is Tim and Lucy, not even in a way that labels dating them, as such.

No, you just...want them.

They're the only ones who have, so far, been able to show you the goodness of life and what it means to have quality company. It's crazy how them once speaking to you and touching you and hanging out with you is labeled as a faint memory, rather than something that still occurs in your day-to-day routine.

Which makes this even shittier, especially because after experiencing something as embarrassing like your boyfriend cheating on you, all you want is them.

And it just fucking sucks because you can't.

There's a hard tug in your heart that has screamed for so long- yearning to feel loved, to feel wanted, to feel all things good and cherishing.

And right now, you don't think it's even achievable anymore.

The tears won't stop, they wouldn't even if you tried to stop. And a shaky exhale comes deep from your throat as you round the corner to where your apartment stands.

You pull your keys from your handbag before unlocking the door.

"Well," You whisper to yourself, a click to the knob indicating it's unlocked, "it can't get any worse than this."

Except...it can, because as you open the door to your apartment, you find Lucy lying on the kitchen bench, naked with her back arched-

-as Tim eats her out.

The hot flush that beams onto you from the shock of the scene initiates a sharp gasp to escape your throat.

The room goes silent and all bodies freeze.

Lucy's eyes snap open first, her gaze immediately settling onto your shaken figure. Her breath hitches, "Shit!"

Tim immediately follows where she's looking, his eyes widening, "Shit."

Your mouth is agape, then you shut it, only for it to fall open again.

Lucy pushes Tim off her, scrambling for the closest thing she can find to cover herself- her scrunched up white tee.

Tim's just behind her, quickly covering himself with his hands, though it does nothing to hide what's beneath.

Your voice is shaky, still physically affected by the previous events as you point to outside the apartment halls, "I'm..." You gulp as you back away from the apartment's entrance, "I'm just- I'll go."

"Wait- have you been crying?"

You don't even know who asks it, your mind a complete haze as you struggle to comprehend what's going on. You glance up between the two, only now are their humiliated faces have wired into concern as they study you.

Wiping at a fresh wave of tears, you stutter out, "W-What? No..."

You can't lie- you've never been a good liar.

"Oh, babe-"

"-Don't," You cut Lucy off, a tremor releasing down your spine when you realise your brain can't focus, not when they're both standing there fucking naked. "I'll be outside, just- finish what...you were doing. I can wait."

You shut the door behind you before they get the chance to respond.

Thankfully, however, you aren't standing beside your closed apartment's door for too long- clearly Tim and Lucy are smart enough to not have sex when they know you're just outside the apartment.

It's an uncomfortable silence intoxicating the air by the time Tim opens the wooden door, his head peaking out as his eyes peer around the hallway for your familiar presence and-

-oh, there you are, sitting down right next to the apartment's door. With your knees pulled up to your chest as you rest your head against the wall's gritty stiffness, mascara-filled tears running down your puffed cheeks with sad eyes...numb, tired eyes.

"Hey," His soft whisper snaps you out of your trance, instantly grounding you into the now, the reality.

You peer up, grateful that he's now dressed, and he's wearing that small smile he tends to only give you and Lucy; it's warm and caring, it's everything you want to be surrounded by. He clears his throat, stretching out a hand for you, "Wanna come in?"

You don't speak, only answering by taking his hand into yours.

Lucy - also dressed - is just placing the bottle of wine on the coffee table when you and Tim enter back in. To the noise of the door shutting, she lifts her head up, and relief floods her face when she sees you're here too, "Oh hey, come sit, I've brought out your favourite."

And when you round the couch and notice that she indeed does have your favourite wine out, along with three wine glasses sprawled for sharing, a flutter blossoms from your gut. You can't help but bite your lip back from smiling, "Thanks, Luce."

She sends a smile back your way before guiding you to sit, all three of you embracing the familiar plushness of the couch in unison.

But for the first time, it feels weird. Not in a sense that you don't want to be there, even considering you just walked in on their sexual pleasures. You get it, shit timing and things happen- it's basic biology.

But it feels weird because you've...never sat in the middle before. You've never been sandwiched between Tim and Lucy, never had their bodily warmth searing your skin on either side.

What doesn't help, either, is that Lucy's nipples perk through her white, thin t-shirt and the outline of her breasts are clearly visible to the naked eye. Her pyjama shorts leave nothing to the imagination, and neither does Tim's- with his thin grey sweatpants allowing extra help to expose the outline of his cock.

You avoid eye contact from then on with a blush heavy on your cheeks and you so desperately try to shrink your body between them.

But to no avail, it's very well noticed by the two.

"Look, we're sorry for what happened back there-"

"-Don't apologise." You cut Tim off, waving your hand as you peek just a glance to him, "You weren't expecting me to come home so early. I'm not upset at you two for that."

You try to shake off the previous events marbling into your imagination at the mention of it; Lucy's precious moans rolling off her tongue, her pussy shining against the kitchen light from above, the wet noises echoing through your ears as Tim ate her out-

"-So," Lucy begins, cutting off your thoughts as her eyes leave the study of you from head to toe to fixate more on picking up one of the glasses. Her other hand takes dominance to pour the wine in it, "what happened? Who do we need to kill?"

A croaky chuckle leaves your throat as you accept the full-to-the-brim wine, "I'm sure you can guess," And unfortunately, they can, they really can as you speak the words, "he- um, he cheated on me."

You can't even look them in the eyes as they reach out to comfort you, their hands electrifying into a hot blanket on your skin- Lucy's thumb brushing your thigh up and down with Tim's palm rubbing circles into your lower back as they whisper their condolences of fuck, i'm sorry and oh, you poor thing.

"It's fine, I'm not that upset about it anyway," Taking a (big) sip of your wine, you exhale shakily, "I just- I feel so...unloved." You turn to them both, "Is that stupid to say? I know my friends love me- my family too. But...other than that I don't feel like I could put my heart out to anyone like that again. Never."

Lucy frowns, though her hand never leaves your thigh, "What do you mean, babe?"

"I'm just..." You swallow hard- you never thought about how embarrassing it might be to actually admit it aloud, "I don't know what it feels like to be wanted. So what's the point in getting into another relationship if I'm just gonna feel like this all over again?"

There's a heartbeat of silence that follows your sentence, along with the air con, apparently, when a sudden heighten of temperature flushes your neck.

It could be that.

Or maybe, it's the intimidating looks Lucy and Tim are eyeing off to one another. And like a secret that is so obviously being spoken between the two and yet, you aren't inclusive enough to know about it, your pace quickens.

Because of course, they're talking about you.

"What?" You muster up, cutting their telepathic communications as they flicker their gazes to you, "Just say it. Don't...beat around the bush- I can handle it."

They dart to each other one more time before Lucy starts up and...is that disbelief? "We're sorry it's just..." She takes another second to form her sentence, "You don't think you're wanted?"

You blink, and blink again, "No. My boyfriend just cheated on me."

"I think what Lucy means-" You turn your head to Tim's sudden low voice, his back flushed against the couch's arm rest as he stares intently at you, "-Is that Lucy and I have been pretty clear on how much we want you. And you didn't notice?"

A second and then another fills the time it takes for your brain to comprehend what he just said, and your pulse quickens.

You gulp, "I..." But no words can form from your dry mouth, "You two...liked me?"

"Like." Lucy corrects you, her thumb picking back up on their soft trace on your thigh, "We still like you, and we want you- we always have."

"But-" You shake your head, taking a big fucking sip of wine because the conversation calls for it. You exhale once you pull the glass away, your eyes dizzy from constantly darting from one person to the other, "-But you're dating! I just assumed that everything you guys said and did didn't mean anything because you're together."

"Babe, don't make me laugh," A glint sparkles in Lucy's pretty brown eyes, those fingers not letting down anytime soon and neither is your heart, "you've always been that missing piece to our relationship. Trust, we really want you."

Oh.

"Oh." You breathe out.

You can't look at them, instead, your eyes set themselves on the delicate circles the brunette is drawing into your skin, edging just that little higher every time. You're too nervous to look at them, so true and authentic with their words- so...sure.

They want you.

They like you.

And it isn't until you feel the soft touch of fingertips cupping your chin, manoeuvring your head so you're looking up and to the right, Tim's face coming into your vision. There's a gentle expression in his baby blues, but nothing can hide the underlying hunger and need that swims within those eyes as he gazes right back at you.

"Can we show you how much we want you?"

Unwired to strings of nothing, your brain shuts down. Not just at his words of certainty, but the electricity heating your chin from his fingertips, and Lucy's digits that are just beginning to slide beneath the hem of your mini black dress- awaiting for your answer.

Then, you nod, small yet effective.

"Good," Relief skims past his face ever so faintly and a hint of a smile fights against his urge of control on the corners of his lips. He carefully takes the wine glass from your hands before placing it down on the coffee table. Then, he's cupping both of your jawlines with his hands, pulling you into him, "C'mere, sweetheart. Missed you."

The last part is muffled, eagerness urging you two to feel the lips of one another and oh, does it feel like a dream.

Tim's masculine- of course he is, but there's a sense of kindness written within every line on his lips amongst his strength and protectiveness that you ought to see on a daily basis. And as much as it confuses you - seeing as he so confidently admits to enjoying rough/hate sex - perhaps it's best on your emotional, sensitive heart that tonight you receive the preciousness of Tim's personality that only you and Lucy get to cherish.

Upon the melting of Tim's warmth cascading around your body, a familiar breath comes behind you; Lucy and all of her glory occupying your neck for what it should be desired for...marking.

Lucy doesn't waste time. After leaving a kiss to your earlobe with an airy whisper of how gorgeous you are, her plush mouth attaches itself just beneath your ear to the beginning of your neck. From here on, she creates a trail of wet, heated kisses down to your shoulder and-

"-Oh!" You gasp into Tim's mouth, your sudden surprise only melting into a muffled moan when Lucy sucks onto the directed patch of skin, her tongue distracting the pain away.

Tim takes advantage of this opportunity anyway- his dominance handling the situation with a smooth swipe of his tongue into your mouth, and you can't help but spill another shaky moan once you feel his exploration deepening the kiss even more.

The double stimulation is something you didn't realise you needed until now. It's the excitement of not just feeling Tim's mouth colliding with yours, but Lucy's attack on your shoulder too.

If only you knew sooner.

If only...

Upon the continuation of providing hickeys that will make it so fucking hard to cover, Lucy gracefully glides her index finger from your underwear-covered hole up to your aching clit, making your breath hitch at the direct yet indirect contact with your pussy.

"Oh, Tim," Lucy lifts her buzzing lips from your collarbone, a purr to her tone as she does the motion again, feeling your leaking juices soaking the underwear's thin fabric, "I think our girl might be enjoying this more than we were expecting."

Tim hums into your mouth before reluctantly pulling himself away from you, his own dilated pupils matching yours and Lucy's as you all peer down to where the brunette's hand disappears beneath the fabric of your dress.

And once Lucy add more pressure to your clit through the friction of your underwear, you lean your head back against the couch with your eyes fluttering in arousal.

"Fuck, look at her," Tim smirks down at you, his left hand tucks loose pieces of strands behind your ear while the other rests on your right thigh, "prettiest thing I've ever seen."

You blush heavily, your eyes peering over at Tim's but you're at a loss of words when Lucy applies just a tad more force onto your clit, "Luce..." You draw her name out, a whine and a plead mixed into the harmony of your words as you look up at her.

She's smiling with a glaze to her eyes that can only show how easily intoxicated she's becoming of this. This being her finger just lightly touching your clit, watching you melt with every second that passes.

Lucy can't help herself, she leans down to press her lips to yours.

And she's so feminine, in every way; her touch is delicate and compassionate, soft and so, so pretty. But, she also holds this otherwise sense of leadership that she shows at work when due. And in this moment, you let her lead you, control you, take care of you.

So when her tongue traces your bottom lip, asking for permission, you welcome her with glee.

With her fingers now side-swiping your underwear to trace her finger through your folds, along with Tim pulling the dress' straps off your shoulders as he teasingly and slowly lowers them more and more, all you can feel is heat- simmering, boiling heat causing a wildfire throughout your whole body.

Then, Lucy pulls away from you.

And at first you frown with a small whine of disapproval.

But to your benefit, she begins to lower herself all the way off from the couch until she's kneeling in between your parted legs- awaiting patiently for Tim to then shuffle and manhandle you around until he's sitting flush against you from behind.

Sure, the couch is soft- velvet and smooth.

But, Tim is softer.

You're practically sitting on his lap with how pressed up your back is to his solid chest and oh, his cock too.

With your heart thudding deeper inside you, Tim rests his chin on your shoulder, both watching in admiration when Lucy draws herself closer between your legs and your pussy is exactly where she wants it to be- just barely hanging off the edge of the couch, eagerly pulsating for her.

"Tim, you should see this pussy," She moans, her eyes widening in pure bliss as she lifts your dress up to the exposure of your core, her hands opening your thighs even more, "So wet, so pretty."

Tim hums against your shoulder, planting a kiss as his hands start to trace the delicacy of your collarbone, "I'll have my turn."

Lucy, however, is not one to keep you writhing for long, because with efficiency, she's sliding your ruined underwear down your legs and her mouth drives itself closer to you.

There, she takes the first kitten lick to you.

Like the first sip of coffee, or the beginning of a massage, you instantly melt into relaxation. Your back sinks further into Tim's broad chest as your eyelashes flutter, struggling to keep open at the magic of Lucy's tongue as she glides her tongue around your clit.

"Holy shit- Lucy, you're so-" A moan cuts you off when she flicks your clit back and forth, the warmth of her tongue so overwhelming to your senses- along with her fingers that draw lines up and down your thighs. "-fuck, you're so good at this."

Lucy hums against your pussy- a thank you, from her part.

As she continues to take abuse on you, Tim's hands lightly brush lower from your collarbone, taking a liking to your cleavage that is now slipping out from the loosening of your dress' straps, "Gonna lower this some more, baby," He murmurs against your ear, his fingers hooking to the sides of your dress before pulling it down with ease. He only stops once he's satisfied with the exposure of your breasts to the apartment's heated air, along with Tim's stare. He curses, unable to control himself as he grabs your tits each into his hands, "Fuck, wanna worship these all night. Wanted to for ages."

"Please," You whisper, his rough, large hands already making the buds harden and you rest your head on his left shoulder to provide him more access to look.

Tim doesn't need to be told twice before his thumbs trace around your stiff nipples, just in time for Lucy to lower her tongue and fuck it into your hole.

You cry out and grasp onto Lucy's hair, your mouth still agape as they keep up with their acts of pleasure on you. Lucy's pace is relentless as her tongue continues to fuck itself inside you, your walls welcoming her tongue as she lathers up any of your arousal that comes leaking towards her.

"Tell me sweetheart," Tim mutters next to you, his index fingers coming into play as he barely pinches your nipples, rolling them beneath his fingers repetitively. He earns himself the delight of your unfiltered noises that roll off your tongue, "do you want this just as much as we do, or is this just a rebound for you?"

You moan and shuffle against his tight grip, it all coming too overbearing when Lucy directs her attention back to your clit...only to push one of her fingers inside you, "Ah- What's it to you?"

"Well," Tim pinches your buds hard, followed by a sharp inhale from you, "My girlfriend is eating you out like it's her last meal, and I need to know whether I'm going to fuck you like you mean nothing to me, or like you're my entire world."

There's a shiver that travels down your spine at his words, and you're almost slipping with how close your orgasm is itching.

You open your eyes to peer at the woman between your legs, only to find her already looking up at you- wide doe eyes and lashes battering. While she hasn't stopped the motions of her clit nor the pounding of her current two fingers now inside you as they stretch you out, she awaits your answer.

"I do want this," You say in a shaky whisper, engaging in eye contact with both Lucy and then Tim as you turn your head to him, "I want you both...all the time."

"Attagirl," Tim ushers to you, and you can hear pride in his voice as he draws you in for a peck. His thumbs go back to delicately tracing around your nipples and he mutters against your lips, "You'll always have us. Always."

And with that, you place your head back onto Tim's shoulder and Lucy quickens her pace.

Your concentration overrides your noises once you feel the homestretch to an orgasm.

It's too much, but it's so fucking good; Lucy fingering you, your juices creating a loud squelching noise while her mouth sucks your clit into her wet warmth. And Tim, squeezing and revering your nipples by just the faintest brush of his fingers.

It's too much, so much that-

"-Oh fuck, 'm gonna cum," You squeak out, gripping Lucy's soft curls even tighter within your embrace as your thighs shake beside her head.

Then, a gasp to your raspy voice flushes you all over once the coil inside you snaps and you're going through the motions of an endless orgasm. Tim's fingers trace down to your waist, "That's it," He whispers, drawing circles into your skin while Lucy pulls off your clit, though continuing to milk out your orgasm by slowly pumping her fingers inside you, "Good girl- did so good for us."

Many seconds pass of silence, save for your heavy erratic breaths as you fall against Tim while he rubs his calloused hands up and down your arms- a sense of grounding. Lucy pulls her two fingers out of you, and you whimper in response to the emptiness that comes after.

Feeling sweaty and fucking exhausted, you probably could go to sleep happy and content right now.

That is, until, your eyes peek open and you take in the sight of Lucy with your juices fresh around her lips and dripping off her chin as she sucks her fingers into her mouth, the exact ones that were just in your pussy.

And it all comes rushing back.

"Fuck," Tim groans, his cock twitching against your back as you both just sit there, entranced to watch her with admiration and down-right arousal, "C'mere, Luce- wanna taste her too."

You can't stop yourself from staring with your jaw slack and eyes wide when Lucy lowers down to press her lips onto Tim's.

The kiss is so...fuck, how do you even describe that? Hot, messy, and so mesmerising. It's intertwined with trust and love as they greedily mix your cum with their saliva, moans and groans muffled by the other's mouth as they taste your metallic sweetness on their tongues.

"Holy shit-" You whisper, which brings all their attention back to you. They pull apart, followed by a string of saliva once connecting their lips, before dragging their eyes down to you.

You, in all of their glory.

You, with mascara tear-streaked flushed cheeks, plush lips, and nipples raw, red, and overstimulated from Tim's fingers.

A quick mischievous glance to the other can only tell you they aren't done with you.

Tim's already manhandling you- his two hands gripping your waist tighter than before as he places you right next to him, "Think you can give us another orgasm, baby?" He asks, kindly pushing you down so your head rests just before the couch's arm rest, a bundle of cushions already provided for you.

If you weren't so fucked out in a dream-like haze, you may have questioned if this was planned.

Nonetheless, you nod eagerly to his question.

As you lay across the couch, you flicker your attention between the two as they begin to undress themselves. You do the same, pushing your dress over your hips and ass before sliding it down your legs where it's discarded on the floor- amongst the many other articles of clothes Tim and Lucy have contributed to the floor.

Between the process of you bringing your knees up to your chest so Tim has better access to you, your movements halt.

Because while you've know these two humans for years, it might just be the first time you've seen them naked.

Sure, there's been the occasional Tim-being-shirtless if he's just gotten out of the shower, and Lucy nonchalantly wearing her bra and underwear as she runs from one side of the apartment to the other to grab her clothes. But, for the first time, this is their bodies- so beautiful, so true.

Lucy's plump and full breasts unveiled are as gorgeous as you would've imagined them to be, while the rest of her body looks like an absolute dream- her skin glowing and appearing soft like silk, and her curves are to die for.

Tim, on the other hand, has nothing soft on him; with his chest solid, shoulders broad and biceps the size of your head. He's a God-like sculpture of contoured muscles and veins, and his v-neck is prominent as it guides your vision to move down to his-

You choke.

You're caught off-guard by the sight of his cock in his hand; red and needy, and his tip has drips of pre-cum cascading down his length and onto his hand as he pumps himself one...two...three times.

Fuck, how is that gonna fit?

Tim lets out a chuckle, widening your legs to line himself where needed as he encourages you to wrap your legs around his back, "You'll be fine," And oh shit, you said that aloud.

With Tim occupied by gliding his tip through your folds, teasing your hole by gathering more of your arousal as it comes and goes from you, your voice mumbling Lucy's name with a sense of urgency grabs her attention from where she stands.

You're lying there with neediness and a come-hither expression filling the dilation of your pupils.

And who could say no to that?

So, she steps closer to you, a reassuring smile planted on her face before she leans down to lock her lips with yours.

Her lips remind you far too well of the goodness in this world, much like a surprise bouquet of flowers or baking a cake for one's birthday- they're so sweet, gentle, and caring.

Best of all, however, is the metallic taste of yourself still lingering in Lucy's mouth and you shiver, unable to contain how intoxicatingly arousing that is to one's emotional status.

And you can't stop the mind of your own body when your fingertips reach out to her breasts, hovering over the tender fat. You wouldn't be able to, even if you tried.

At first, just to test the waters, you massage her soft breasts between your palms. But the moan Lucy initiates against your mouth once your thumbs trace around her nipples tells you everything and more that she likes it.

Good, it's good that she likes it. Because you could do this for fucking hours, you really could. Her tits are so fucking pretty, so big, so comforting, but you halt your actions once you feel the tip of Tim's cock sliding inside you.

Your lips pull away from Lucy's with a loud gasp though your hands never leave her breasts, all three of your attention turning to the scene that plays out in front of you. That being Tim stretching you out with every inch he slips his cock into you- and your heart races more than it ever has before.

"Jesus- you feel so good," Tim chokes out and he tilts his head back to look up at the apartment's ceiling, his grip on your waist tightening as he tries to recite anything police-related to stop himself from cumming right now.

Lucy flickers down to your face, and upon noticing your tensed figure, she cradles your head close to her chest- much like a warm blanket, "Relax, sweet girl," She coaxes, and her fingers come around to thread them through your damp, sticky hair (thanks to the sweat you've produced).

"It's hard to-" You puncture out, a frown narrowing onto your forehead, "-'s so big,"

To really dramatise it, you feel like it's splitting you in half.

But, you're a good girl. You know you are. So you try to take deep breaths, your cramped muscles relaxing upon Lucy's comfort and Tim's soothing hands as they trace up and down your legs.

Even to help distract yourself from the stretching of your core, you tilt your face closer to the brunette's chest. With an eagerness and a need for instant diversion, your mouth attaches itself to her nipple and your tongue - ever so delicately - traces the hardened bud.

"Fuck- that's it," Lucy hitches her breath at the receiving end of pleasure, her nerves intensifying with each suck you give to her nipple, "You've got it, baby."

"Being so good for us," Tim rasps out, finally burying everything and all inside you as he bottoms out.

And he stills there for a second, allowing the erratic heavy breaths coming from all three of you to intensify and thicken what already appears to be stewed air. The lack of circulation only heats your skin more, but that's the least of what your attention is on.

Not when your superior is completely inside of you with blown-wide needy eyes and trembling fingertips as they tenderly rub your thighs- electrifying your very nerves beneath his embrace. For a man that allows no room for softness or vulnerability in his line of work, it's quite refreshing to drink in his very status.

His body is telling you everything he isn't saying, like how he's struggling to contain his control from fucking you into oblivion. You notice it in the way his eyelids are heavy, and the lack of baby blues left to his orbs.

And for the obvious part, you can feel it.

Like his veins pulsing against your walls as his cock twitches inside you- it's that of impatience, begging, the inability to wait any longer.

And perhaps, just perhaps, you might have more power than Tim in this very moment than what he has over you.

Thankfully, the abuse your tongue and lips have given to Lucy's breasts have distracted you enough to ease the stretch. So, as you leave Lucy's nipple with a pop! you provide a nod to Tim, "You can move now." And with that, you inhale all your hopes and wishes that you will still be able to walk tomorrow.

(You call in 'sick')

No more needs to be assured to Tim, for his relief is shown by how he ever so slowly pulls out by which he leaves just the tip in you-

-and then he's slamming into you.

This time, however, Tim doesn't let down- nor does he give you any time to brace it when he retrieves, only to fuck deep into you again.

You choke and any source of oxygen is far, far away from your lungs so you're left winded. Your hands fly out to wrap around Lucy's waist while the other grips onto the couch's armrest from behind you, accepting the desirable rhythm Tim is starting to create.

"Please- fuck-" A whimper cuts you off, pleasure getting in the way of any sentence you try to form when his cock slides back into you. "-can...can I- mmh!"

Of course, Tim is smart enough to calculate his thrusts when you're just about to speak. It turns him on, the asshole, watching you struggle to even speak with your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he fucks you.

"What's that, baby?" He smirks, his voice low and playful.

Lucy huffs out a laugh, tucking your loose strands behind your ears as she leans lower to peck your neck, "Don't be such a tease, Tim," Then, she's pulling back enough that your eyes avert their gaze from the man pounding you senselessly to her, "You okay?"

And God, do you look wrecked.

But, so pretty, nonetheless- with eyes glossy and sultry as you stare deep into Lucy's brown oak ones. She can't help herself when she lowers her sight down to where your tongue flicks out, wetting your lips before you speak ever so innocently.

"Can I...eat you out?"

A heartbeat of silence follows.

Then another.

And another.

And then, Tim and Lucy both moan in unison.

By how Tim's hips stutter as he grinds into you while Lucy's eyes darken, they fucking liked your question.

Lucy lets out an exhale, cupping both sides of your face before placing a wet kiss onto your mouth- one of immense hunger and desire.

Then, she's murmuring against your lips, "Murder me if I ever say no."

She pulls back from the kiss and the apartment's warm light overhead creates a halo to Lucy's God-like body when she begins to climb up. The couch isn't big, per se, but it fits you three well enough that Lucy is able to anchor her knees either side of your head with a steady body.

"This okay?" She whispers down at you as she lowers herself, carefully.

You don't answer, not with words anyway- just a desperate moan when your tongue flicks out to taste her already dripping juices.

Good, that's all the permission she needs.

"Oh-" She gasps at the first initial contact, then, she's sinking down completely onto your mouth, with fingers tangling in your hair as your tongue finds her clit like second nature. She lets out the softest, broken whimper, grinding gently against your face, "-Shit, your mouth is fucking amazing."

Your heart flutters at her praise, fuelling you more to give her exactly what she needs as you attack her throbbing clit with an eager mouth.

"Jesus, Luce, someone's enjoying eatin' you out," Tim murmurs behind her from where his hips continue to snap against yours in a feral, primal way, however, even you can hear the squelching of your juices every time Tim plunges his cock inside your leaking hole, "Sweet girl 's so wet around my cock- feels incredible."

You moan in agreement, your tongue then moving from lapping at her entrance to gliding through her folds and vice versa with how Lucy is rocking against your mouth.

And God, is she making a mess out of you- her arousal already spread across your chin to your nose, and the inability to breathe properly when her entire pussy suffocates you is so worth dying for.

She smells and tastes so delicious, so good, so...fuck- addicting.

“God- fuck, just like that, baby." Lucy throws her head back, thighs trembling on either side of your head as she humps against your tongue, chasing every roll of pleasure with absolute greed and...pride. "You’re doing so good, so good for us.” And you really are with how you're keeping up with both Tim's rough yet unguarded pace, all the while eating Lucy's pussy like it's everything to you.

Truthfully, it is.

The amount of arousal seeping around your bloodstream, along with the fresh set of blood from how quickly your heart is hammering (From excitement? stamina? Perhaps even both?) can only do so much to one's body. Which is why when you begin to feel that underlying tension grow within you, you aren't surprised. Not at all.

Though, it appears Lucy might beat you to it- with how her hips are stuttering against your lips, concentration wrapped around the pants of her praises and how her fingers tighten in your hair's roots.

Then, "I'm so close," is what she whispers out, her breath coming out heavier, needier, "Please don't- ah! Please don't stop."

You don't- you wouldn't dare to. So, you grip her ass tighter to keep her close to your face as you ignore any cramps that may be coming afloat in your jaw.

Tim's words only help you fasten your desperation to make Lucy cum when his thumb surprisingly touches your clit, and mutters loud enough to make sure you hear, "Cum on that pretty face, Luce," And his circular motions on your clit, along with his cock still pounding into you, doesn't alleviate your nearing orgasm, "You gonna let Luce use you, sweetheart?"

Yes, yes, yes! is what you wish to say because fuck- how many sleeps have you dreamt of this scene?

All the times you've laid in your bed with only the moon's figure shining against your sheer curtains to keep you company as your ears tried so hard to ignore the blissful moans and mewls Lucy released when Tim ate her out in her bedroom. But how could you have ignored that? They just sounded so fucking good together, and you didn't know which one you wanted to please you- even more, who you wanted to please more.

So, with Lucy's pussy hushing any source of words to slip from you, you hum instead with a mhm hmm! as you continue to lap at her clit, circling it just the way she needs. She deserves it, of course she does.

And you want to be the one that gives her the orgasm.

So, when Lucy's hips stutter and her whole body tenses, grinding one final time as your tongue flicks her clit just so perfectly that she shatters, you know you've done it.

"Oh my God, yes- yes- fuck!" She cries out, and it's fucking music to your ears as she squeezes her thighs around your head and orgasms- her moans echoing throughout the room.

You help lengthen it out by continuing the stimulation to her clit with soft circles to ease her through the process until she's a whimpering, trembling mess. Then, she hovers herself off your mouth before slowly climbing off you to where she crouches beside you.

The moment Lucy leaves your lips, your gasping for air, your mouth now slick with your saliva, her arousal and her cum. Your chest heaves beneath the weight of everything- the pleasure you still feel from Tim's thick cock, the intimacy between not just one person but two, and the insane amount of love and want and need that airs from Lucy and Tim towards you.

It's everything you've ever wanted to feel, especially from these two beings.

Your eyes flick to Tim's finally, and the look on his face is enough to edge you closer to that orgasm.

Because for Tim to see you and Lucy like that? To watch as two of the women he holds the closest to his heart have a moment as affectionate as that in front of him? God, it's done numbers to him.

His jaw is clenched, sweat dripping from his temple with arms braced and muscles flexing in his biceps as he fucks into you with sharp, desperate thrusts. And despite the intimidation you feel to steer away from him as he stares at you, there's a selfish part of you that can't- you need to soak him all in, you need it.

"Look at you, baby," He coaxes through his breaths, eyes darting between your blissed-out face and down to where your pussy engulfs his cock so easily, so...perfectly, "Takin' me so well- fuck, 'm close."

"Me too," You whisper with a crack to your hoarse voice, and you shiver when Lucy's fingers begin to run through your hair again and her kisses find their way along your collarbone. One hand parrots Lucy's actions as you hold some of her strands in between your knuckles, while the other reaches out to grasp on Tim's bicep as he begins to lean closer to you, diving even more into your pussy with this angle, "mmh! 's so good, don't stop- please."

Tim could never. Not in a million years, not in a billion- not even against the odds of infinity. Not when your pussy feels this wet and warm around his aching cock, not when he's shivering and trembling like this, not when all he wants to do is bury himself inside you.

"Cum, sweet girl, been so good for us," He replies with a rasp.

And oh, you do.

Your body arches and you cry out as your orgasm crashes into you. Your grips tighten on Tim's arm and Lucy's hair like it's the only thing grounding you.

It is the only things grounding you, really.

Your vision becomes near blinding and there's a flush of heat that rips through your body as go through what can only be the best fucking orgasm of your life.

"Fuck- fuck, baby, yes," Tim pants, followed by a moan before he's spilling inside you. With every pulse his cock gives deep into your pussy, white ropes chase after.

You both give out, and Tim can't control his body before he collapses on top of you once he finishes- enough that you can feel his stubble on your chest with his cock still buried inside you, but not enough that he crushes you.

His head lays just beside where Lucy's lips once were on your collarbone- her mouth now hovering as she allows space for Tim to hold you. Her arm outreaches so she can trace not just your hair but Tim's back too, her palm delicately circling his lower back.

It's quiet for some time, save for the odd seconds where one of you inhales while the other exhales- all three of you taking a moment to steady your breaths and hearts into a stable rhythm.

And it's in this silence, in the soft heaviness of shared warmth and oxygen and sweat that you feel that underlying sense tightening in your chest.

Comfort, safety...love.

Like the first beam of a sunrise, or a smile received from a stranger, a compliment, a familiar hug- it all settles into you.

You can't imagine ever taking this for granted. Not when you have the two people you need holding you. Not when they help clean you up, take you to your bed, and tuck you in between them. Not when their bare skin is pressed against yours, legs tangled beneath thin sheets and shared heat.

It's a blissful night in yours and Lucy's apartment when you all go to sleep. The air is warm, the room is quiet, and the sheets are soft.

Though Lucy and Tim's bodies are softer- softer than anything you've ever known.

TAGLIST: @youaggravatemysoul @cevansfangirl16 @vivian-4 @britt217 @marvellover-12 @pillkits @pauieforlife @lololooolleonnaaa @hdcomputer @obi-wansgirl @simplyhale @rottenroyalebooks @redbeanmochin @kamisobsessed @andrealux21 @lololooolleonnaaa

[bauxxx]

NCIS MASTERLIST

Timothy McGee

Rule #12 (Kind Of Broken)-f.reader 💙

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

[bauxxx]

Rule #12 (Kind Of Broken)

Fandom: NCIS

Pairing: Timothy McGee × Female Reader

Summary:

Working in the depths of NCIS as a quiet, brilliant tech specialist, you were never supposed to be noticed—let alone fall in love with a field agent. But somewhere between late-night cases and shared coffee runs, you and McGee became something real… and secret. When an unexpected pregnancy collides with one very broken rule, the truth comes out in the most NCIS way possible—chaotic, loud, and somehow… full of family.

The basement of NCIS wasn’t glamorous.

It hummed.

Servers, wires, monitors—your world lived in a constant buzz of electricity and quiet anonymity. You liked it that way. No interrogations. No fieldwork. No pressure.

No rules to break.

Well…

Except one.

You stared at the screen in front of you, but the code blurred together, meaningless. Your hand rested unconsciously over your stomach, fingers pressing lightly like you could confirm it again just by touch.

You were pregnant.

And the father?

Special Agent Timothy McGee.

Your boyfriend.

Your secret boyfriend.

The irony wasn’t lost on you.

You had spent years being invisible in the basement—just another tech, another name in the system. And somehow, somewhere between late-night cases and shared coffee runs, you had become this.

Something real.

Something risky.

Something very, very against the rules.

“Hey.”

You jumped slightly at the voice, spinning in your chair.

There he was.

Timothy McGee, standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking a little sheepish—like he always did when he came down here just to see you.

He had grown into himself over the years—confident, capable, steady in a way that made people trust him without question.

But with you?

He still softened.

Still hesitated.

Still looked like the same guy who used to linger just a second too long after handing you coffee.

“Hey,” you echoed, trying to keep your voice steady.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice instinctively.

“You didn’t answer your texts,” he said. “I got worried.”

Your stomach twisted.

You hadn’t meant to ignore him. You just—

Didn’t know how to say this.

That was enough.

His expression shifted immediately, concern sharpening his features.

“What’s wrong?”

Your throat tightened.

This wasn’t how you wanted to tell him.

Not here. Not like this. Not with fluorescent lights buzzing overhead and a dozen government systems blinking behind you.

But it was happening anyway.

“I… took a test,” you said quietly.

He blinked. “Okay…”

Your voice dropped to almost nothing.

“It was positive.”

Silence.

The kind that stretches just long enough to feel like everything might fall apart.

For a split second, your brain raced ahead—worst-case scenarios stacking up:

He panics.

He pulls away.

You lose him.

You lose everything.

Then—

McGee exhaled.

Not sharp. Not panicked.

Just… steady.

“Okay,” he said again, softer this time.

You searched his face desperately. “Okay?”

His lips twitched slightly, like he didn’t quite know what to do with the wave of emotion hitting him.

“I mean—it’s not exactly in the NCIS handbook,” he admitted, letting out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh. “But… we’ll figure it out.”

Your chest tightened.

“Together,” he added firmly.

And just like that—

The panic cracked.

Not gone.

But manageable.

“Tim…” you whispered.

His hand found yours, grounding, warm.

“We’ve handled worse,” he said softly. “Okay, maybe not this, but—” he smiled faintly “—we’re a pretty good team.”

You let out a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” you said. “We are.”

Then reality hit again.

“Tim… Gibbs—”

That did it.

He froze.

Ah, yes.

Rule #12: Never date a coworker.

And you weren’t just coworkers—you were both NCIS.

And Leroy Jethro Gibbs did not take rule-breaking lightly.

McGee rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah… Gibbs.”

You both winced.

---

Three Days of Denial

You managed to keep it quiet.

For exactly three days.

Three days of pretending nothing had changed.

Three days of avoiding eye contact in the bullpen.

Three days of whispered conversations and stolen glances.

Three days of McGee bringing you snacks like that somehow solved everything.

“You need to eat,” he insisted one afternoon, placing a granola bar next to your keyboard.

“I am eating,” you muttered.

“That was coffee.”

“Coffee counts.”

“It does not count.”

You sighed—but you ate it anyway.

Because that’s how this worked.

Always had.

Small things.

Quiet care.

The kind no one noticed.

Until—

“Why are you smiling like that?”

You both froze.

Tony DiNozzo stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

McGee immediately stepped back.

“I’m not smiling,” he said too quickly.

Tony leaned forward.

“You are absolutely smiling.”

You turned back to your computer. “He does that sometimes.”

Tony pointed between you both.

“I don’t know what’s happening here, but I will figure it out.”

“Please don’t,” McGee muttered.

Tony grinned.

“Oh, I’m definitely going to.”

---

The Abby Incident

It started, like most disasters at NCIS, with Abby Sciuto.

She came bouncing into the basement, arms full of Caf-Pow, already mid-sentence.

“Okay, so I ran the fibers and—”

She stopped.

Mid-step.

Stared at you.

Tilted her head.

“You’re glowing,” she said.

You froze.

“I’m always glowing,” you said weakly.

“Nope,” Abby said, narrowing her eyes. “This is different glowing. This is like—” she gasped dramatically “—life-changing glowing.”

Your heart dropped.

She stepped closer.

“Are you sick? Did you eat something weird? Is it radiation? Wait—”

You held your breath.

“—are you pregnant?!”

Silence.

Your silence.

Her gasp was deafening.

“Oh my God you are!”

“Abby—” you tried.

Too late.

Because right then—

Tony walked in.

“Hey Abs, I need—” He stopped. “Why are you vibrating?”

Abby spun toward him.

“She’s pregnant!”

You closed your eyes.

Tony blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then slowly—

A grin spread across his face.

“Well, well, well… McGeek’s been busy.”

“TONY!”

“Oh, come on,” he said, already backing away. “This is critical information. The team deserves to know.”

“Tony, don’t you dare—”

He was gone.

Of course he was.

---

Fallout (or… Not?)

It spread like wildfire.

By the time you made it upstairs, the entire bullpen knew.

You braced yourself.

Judgment.

Whispers.

Consequences.

Instead—

“You will be a strong mother,” Ziva said simply, giving you a firm nod.

Ducky beamed. “Ah, new life! A beautiful continuation.”

Jimmy looked like he might cry.

Abby hugged you so tightly you nearly lost your balance.

“I’m going to make the baby tiny goth outfits,” she announced.

“That’s… slightly terrifying,” you said.

“I’m doing it anyway.”

Your chest tightened.

This wasn’t what you expected.

This wasn’t what you were afraid of.

This was—

Support.

Then you looked at McGee.

He looked just as stunned as you felt.

But then—

Footsteps.

Heavy.

Measured.

Familiar.

The room went silent instantly.

Gibbs.

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

McGee straightened beside you.

Gibbs stopped in front of you both.

His gaze flicked from you—

to McGee—

and back again.

Silence stretched.

Then—

“Is it his?” Gibbs asked bluntly.

You choked.

“Gibbs—!” McGee sputtered.

You nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

Another pause.

Longer.

Then Gibbs sighed.

Actually sighed.

“Well,” he muttered, “guess Rule 12’s been broken before.”

Your brain stalled.

Wait—what?

Gibbs turned to McGee.

“You gonna step up?”

McGee didn’t hesitate.

“Yes, sir.”

Gibbs held his gaze.

Then nodded once.

“Good.”

And just like that—

He walked away.

No explosion.

No lecture.

Just… acceptance.

Tony leaned over immediately.

“…Did Gibbs just approve your relationship?”

“Don’t say it like that,” McGee said.

“I’m absolutely saying it like that.”

---

Later

Back in the basement, the quiet returned.

Familiar.

Comforting.

You sat side by side, the chaos finally settling.

“I really thought we were dead,” you admitted.

McGee laughed softly. “Yeah… me too.”

You leaned into him slightly, your hand finding his.

“We’re okay, right?”

He squeezed your fingers, steady and sure.

“Yeah,” he said.

Then, softer—

“We’re more than okay.”

You rested your head briefly against his shoulder.

For the first time since you saw those two pink lines—

You let yourself breathe.

Because maybe—

Just maybe—

Breaking one rule…

Led you exactly where you were supposed to be.

And for once—

That felt like the right call.

[bauxxx]

When Did You Get Hot?

Fandom: The Pitt

Pairing: Jack Abbott × Female Reader

Summary:

Years after a quiet, heartbreaking breakup at the end of high school, you and Jack Abbott unexpectedly cross paths again as coworkers at the same hospital. He’s no longer the shy, awkward boy you once loved—and you’re not the same girl either. What starts as lingering glances and almost-conversations quickly turns into something harder to ignore. Over the course of three weeks, old feelings resurface, unspoken regrets come to light, and the connection you thought was long gone proves it never really left. When you finally stop dancing around the past, you’re faced with a choice: protect your heart like before… or risk everything for a second chance that feels even stronger than the first.

You weren’t nervous.

That’s what you kept telling yourself as you walked through the sliding doors of the hospital, badge still stiff and unfamiliar clipped to your scrubs.

New job. New city. New start.

No ghosts.

Except—apparently—not all ghosts stayed buried.

“Hey, you must be the transfer from—”

You turned at the sound of a voice, polite and mid-sentence, but whatever introduction they were about to give died instantly in your ears.

Because standing a few feet away—

Frozen just like you—

—was Jack Abbott.

Your Jack Abbott.

Except… not really.

Because the boy you remembered was all crooked smiles and hunched shoulders, always a little too shy, a little too soft-spoken. He used to fidget when he talked, blush when you teased him, trip over his own words like they were obstacles he could never quite clear.

This man?

This man was… unfair.

Taller—way taller than you remembered. Broad shoulders stretching his scrubs in a way that made it very clear he’d grown into himself. His posture was confident now, grounded. His hair was styled instead of messy, his jaw sharper, his presence—

God.

“When did you get hot?” slipped out before you could stop it.

Silence.

Then—

Jack blinked.

Once.

Twice.

And then he laughed.

Actually laughed.

“Wow,” he said, running a hand through his hair, clearly caught off guard but recovering faster than you expected. “No ‘hi’? No ‘it’s been years, how are you?’ Just straight to that?”

Your face burned. “I—no—I didn’t mean— I mean, I did, but—”

“Hey,” he cut in gently, a familiar softness threading through his voice despite everything else that had changed. “It’s okay.”

And there it was.

That tiny piece of him you remembered.

The way he looked at you.

Like you were still the same girl who used to sit next to him in chemistry, passing notes and stealing glances when the teacher wasn’t looking.

“I just… didn’t expect to see you here,” you admitted.

“Yeah,” Jack said, nodding slowly. “Me neither.”

There was a pause. Not awkward—just… heavy. Full of everything you didn’t say back then.

Back when breaking up felt like the only option.

Back when life pulled you in different directions, and neither of you fought hard enough to stay.

“You look good,” he added, quieter now.

Your heart did something stupid.

“Thanks,” you said. “So do you. Obviously.”

He smiled at that—smaller this time. A little more real.

“Guess I had a few years to work on it.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

God, why were you like this?

A nurse called his name from down the hall, breaking the moment.

Jack glanced over, then back at you, something hesitant flickering behind his eyes.

“I’ve got to—uh—”

“Yeah, of course. Work,” you said quickly.

Another pause.

Neither of you moved right away.

“Hey,” he said suddenly. “You’re… here now, right? Like—not just visiting?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Transferred. I’m not going anywhere.”

Something shifted in his expression at that.

Relief.

Definitely relief.

“Good,” he said softly. “That’s… good.”

And then he turned to leave—but stopped after a step, glancing back at you with that same almost-smile.

“Also,” he added, a hint of teasing slipping in, “for the record—I was always hot. You just didn’t notice.”

You let out a breathless laugh. “Oh, please.”

He grinned.

And just like that, for a split second, he looked exactly like the boy you fell in love with.

“See you around,” he said.

“Yeah,” you replied, watching him walk away, heart racing in a way that felt dangerously familiar.

“See you around.”

But this time—

You had a feeling it wouldn’t take years.

---

Three Weeks Later

Three weeks.

Three weeks of almosts.

It started small.

Passing each other in hallways.

That first “hey” that lingered just a second too long.

Then—

“How was your shift?”

“Terrible. You?”

“Same.”

And suddenly you were walking out together.

Not on purpose.

Just… happening.

Coffee runs became routine.

Not planned.

Just—

“You grabbing coffee?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll come with.”

You relearned each other in fragments.

Jack liked his coffee black now.

Still tapped his fingers when he was thinking.

Still looked at you like you were something important.

And you—

You still laughed at his dumb jokes.

Still noticed the way his voice softened when he said your name.

Still felt your chest tighten every time he stood a little too close.

One night, during a particularly chaotic shift, you found yourselves side by side in a trauma room.

Gloves snapping into place.

Voices steady.

Focused.

“BP’s dropping,” you said.

“I’ve got it,” Jack replied, already moving.

You worked like you had years ago—like instinct, like memory, like something that had never really left.

And when it was over—

When the patient was stable and the room finally quieted—

You looked at each other.

Breathing hard.

And for a second, it wasn’t the hospital.

It wasn’t the years apart.

It was just—

You.

And him.

“Nice work,” he said softly.

“You too.”

Neither of you moved.

Then someone walked in.

And the moment broke.

Again.

---

“Okay, I can’t do this anymore.”

You looked up from your chart, raising an eyebrow. “Do what?”

Jack leaned against the counter across from you, arms crossed, eyes fixed on yours with a kind of determination you didn’t remember him having before.

“This,” he said simply. “The almost.”

Your heart skipped. “The almost… what?”

His jaw tightened.

“Almost asking you out. Almost talking about what happened. Almost acting like we weren’t—” he exhaled “—everything to each other at one point.”

The air shifted.

Heavy.

Real.

“Jack…”

“Come get a drink with me tonight,” he said, steady now. “After shift. No interruptions. No running away this time.”

Your instinct was to deflect.

To joke.

To protect yourself like you did back then.

But instead—

“Okay.”

It surprised both of you.

Jack blinked.

Then smiled—slow and genuine.

“Okay,” he echoed.

---

That Night

The bar was dimly lit.

Quiet enough to talk.

Loud enough to hide the weight of everything sitting between you.

You sat across from each other, drinks untouched.

“This is weird,” you admitted.

Jack huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah. A little.”

“A little?” you raised an eyebrow. “We dated for years, broke up, disappeared, and now we work together and are… doing this.”

“When you say it like that, it sounds insane.”

“It is insane.”

His smile faded slightly.

“I didn’t want to lose you, you know.”

The words hit hard.

“You didn’t act like it,” you said quietly.

“I know,” he said immediately. No defense. Just honesty. “I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“Everything,” he admitted. “Leaving. Failing. Not being enough for you once we weren’t just… kids anymore.”

You looked down at your drink.

“I thought you stopped loving me.”

Jack’s head snapped up.

“What? No—”

“You got distant,” you said. “You stopped showing up the way you used to. I thought… that was your way of letting go.”

“It wasn’t,” he said. “It was my way of panicking and not knowing how to hold on.”

Silence settled again.

But this time—

It wasn’t empty.

“I never stopped,” he said quietly.

Your chest tightened. “Stopped what?”

“Loving you.”

The words were simple.

But they hit like everything you’d been holding back for years.

“I tried,” he continued. “I dated. I moved on—or pretended to. But no one ever…” He shook his head. “It was always you.”

You let out a shaky laugh.

“I hate how much I relate to that.”

His gaze softened. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I kept comparing everyone to you.” You looked at him fully now. “And it wasn’t fair… because no one was ever going to win that.”

Jack exhaled like something heavy had finally been lifted.

“God, we really messed this up, didn’t we?”

You smiled softly. “Yeah. We did.”

A beat passed.

Then another.

“Do you think…” he started.

“Think what?”

“That we could not mess it up this time?”

Your heart pounded.

“Maybe,” you said. “But only if we stop doing the ‘almost’ thing.”

He smiled.

“No more almost.”

“No more almost.”

And when his hand reached across the table—

hesitating for just a second—

before resting over yours—

You didn’t pull away.

---

Later

The walk outside the bar was quieter.

Cool air.

City lights.

You stood beside him on the sidewalk, neither of you quite ready to leave.

“So what now?” you asked.

Jack looked at you.

Really looked.

“Now… I ask you out properly.”

You smiled slightly. “Properly?”

“Yeah,” he said. “No history. No pressure. Just—” he hesitated “—a chance.”

Your heart softened.

“I’d like that.”

He nodded.

“Good. Because I’ve been wanting to do that for about seven years.”

You laughed.

Then—

He stepped a little closer.

Close enough that your breath caught.

“Can I?” he asked quietly.

Your answer came just as soft.

“Yeah.”

His hand brushed your cheek.

Familiar.

Careful.

And when he kissed you—

It wasn’t rushed.

It wasn’t uncertain.

It was steady.

Like something that had waited long enough.

When you pulled back, you were both smiling.

A little breathless.

A little overwhelmed.

But sure.

“You know,” you said softly, “you really did get hot.”

Jack laughed.

“Unbelievable.”

But he didn’t let go of your hand.

And this time—

He didn’t have to.

Because this time—

You weren’t almost anything.

You were finally, completely—

Back.

[bauxxx]

Title: What She Doesn’t Know

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Cat Adams × Female Reader

Summary:

You’ve always trusted Cat. She’s charming, brilliant, and protective in ways that make you feel safe. So when she shows up one night with a frightened toddler in her arms and blood on her sleeve, you believe the story she tells you. You never question it. And Cat plans to keep it that way forever.

The apartment door opened slowly.

You looked up from the couch, expecting Cat to stroll in with her usual smug smile and some sarcastic comment about how you were still awake.

Instead, she stepped inside quietly.

Your eyes immediately dropped to the small child clinging to her.

“Cat?” you asked, confused.

The little boy couldn’t have been older than two. His cheeks were wet with tears, and his tiny fists clutched the front of Cat’s shirt like she was the only safe thing in the world.

And Cat—normally so composed—looked slightly disheveled.

Her hair was loose around her shoulders. There was a faint smear of blood on the sleeve of her jacket.

Your stomach tightened.

“Cat… what happened?”

For a moment, Cat didn’t answer.

Her sharp eyes studied you carefully, calculating.

She was always calculating.

Then her expression softened instantly, like she’d flipped a switch.

“I found him,” she said gently.

You blinked. “Found him?”

Cat closed the door behind her and crouched slightly so the toddler stayed balanced on her hip.

“There was an accident,” she explained, voice calm and steady. “A car crash. His father didn’t make it.”

Your heart dropped.

“Oh my god.”

The boy whimpered softly, pressing his face into Cat’s shoulder.

Your protective instincts kicked in immediately.

“Is he hurt?” you asked, rushing over.

Cat shook her head.

“No. Just scared.”

That part, at least, was true.

The boy had been screaming when Cat pulled him from the house.

Screaming while his father bled out on the floor.

Screaming while Cat calmly wiped the knife clean.

But none of that showed on her face now.

Instead, she looked at you with quiet sincerity.

“I couldn’t just leave him there.”

And you believed her.

Of course you did.

You carefully brushed the toddler’s messy hair away from his forehead. “Hey… it’s okay. You’re safe.”

Cat watched the interaction closely.

Something warm and possessive curled in her chest.

This was exactly why she kept you.

You were kind.

Soft.

Completely untouched by the darkness she lived in.

And more importantly—

You trusted her.

Blindly.

“What are we going to do?” you asked, looking back at her.

Cat tilted her head slightly, pretending to think.

“Oh, I already called it in,” she lied smoothly. “Police and paramedics will handle everything. I just needed to get him somewhere safe for a bit.”

You nodded immediately.

“Yeah. Of course.”

Not a single doubt.

Cat’s lips twitched with amusement.

The boy sniffled, and you gently took him from Cat’s arms.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

He hesitated at first but eventually allowed it, curling against you as you carried him to the couch.

You grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around him.

“There we go…”

Cat leaned against the wall, watching.

You hummed softly while rocking the toddler.

It took less than two minutes before he calmed down.

You always had that effect on people.

Cat pushed herself off the wall and walked over slowly.

“You’re good with kids,” she said quietly.

You shrugged.

“I babysat a lot growing up.”

The toddler clutched your shirt.

“See?” you said softly to him. “Nothing to worry about. Cat saved you.”

Cat’s eyes darkened slightly at the word.

Saved.

That wasn’t exactly the right word.

But she liked hearing it.

She crouched beside the couch and gently tapped the child’s tiny nose.

“my girlfriend’s right,” Cat murmured. “I did save you.”

Just not the way you thought.

You smiled at her.

A warm, trusting smile.

“You’re a good person, Cat.”

For the first time that night, Cat actually laughed.

Soft.

Amused.

Dangerous.

If only you knew.

Her hand slid up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin.

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” you said without hesitation.

Cat studied your face for a long moment.

No suspicion.

No fear.

Nothing but love.

Perfect.

Her smile returned, slow and satisfied.

“Good,” she whispered.

Because the truth—

The man begging for his life.

The blood pooling on the floor.

The careful way Cat had staged the scene before leaving—

That truth would never reach you.

And if it ever did…

Cat would make sure you still believed her.

No matter what it took.

[bauxxx]

Safe With You

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Emily Prentiss & Unsub’s Daughter (platonic / found family)

Summary:

After a difficult case, the FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit discovers the unsub left behind a fourteen-year-old daughter. With no family willing to take her and the trauma of the case weighing heavily on her, Emily Prentiss makes a decision that surprises even the team—she adopts her.

The house was quiet.

Too quiet.

Emily Prentiss stood in the kitchen of her apartment, leaning against the counter while she watched the girl sitting at the small dining table.

Fourteen years old.

Way too young to look that tired.

Her shoulders were tight, hands folded carefully in her lap like she was afraid to touch anything. Like if she moved wrong, something terrible might happen.

Emily had seen that posture before.

Kids caught in the aftermath of terrible things often looked like that—like the ground beneath them had vanished.

“Do you want tea?” Emily asked gently.

The girl hesitated before nodding.

Emily filled a mug, letting the kettle whistle softly before pouring the hot water. Chamomile. Something calming.

Something safe.

She slid the mug across the table.

“Thanks,” the girl murmured.

Her voice was quiet, careful—like every word had to be approved before it left her mouth.

Emily sat down across from her.

Neither of them spoke for a moment.

The case had been brutal. The kind that stuck in your bones long after the paperwork was finished. The team had seen terrible things before, but this one had left a mark.

When the team discovered the unsub’s daughter hiding in her bedroom closet, the girl had looked terrified—not of the agents.

Of what would happen next.

Because there was no one left.

No relatives willing to take her.

Just the system.

Emily remembered the way the girl had looked at them like they were the last solid thing in the world.

Especially her.

“Hotch said the paperwork should be finalized soon,” Emily said softly.

The girl’s eyes flicked up.

“You… you don’t have to do this.”

Emily’s chest tightened a little.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her arms on the table.

“I know I don’t have to,” she said gently. “I want to.”

The girl studied her face carefully, like she was trying to figure out if Emily meant it.

“You don’t even know me.”

Emily smiled softly.

“I know you like astronomy,” she said.

The girl blinked in surprise.

“You were reading a book about black holes when we met,” Emily continued. “You had three sticky notes marking pages.”

The girl glanced down at her mug.

Emily went on.

“You correct people when they misuse big words.”

A small pause.

“And you asked Reid three questions about quantum mechanics in under thirty seconds.”

That earned the tiniest hint of a smile.

“…He liked that.”

Emily laughed softly.

“He loved it.”

Across the table, the girl wrapped both hands around the mug, absorbing the warmth.

“You’re not… scared?” she asked quietly.

Emily knew exactly what she meant.

Scared of who her father had been.

Scared that something about him lived inside her.

Emily shook her head without hesitation.

“No.”

“But—”

“Listen to me,” Emily said gently.

The girl looked up.

Emily’s voice was calm and steady—the same voice she used when comforting victims during interviews.

“Who your father was doesn’t decide who you are.”

The girl’s eyes shimmered slightly.

“You’re your own person,” Emily continued. “You get to decide the rest.”

Silence filled the room.

The girl stared into her tea for a long time before whispering:

“Why me?”

Emily leaned back in her chair, thinking.

The honest answer?

Because when Emily had looked at her that day, she hadn’t seen a monster’s daughter.

She had seen a scared kid who needed someone.

And Emily knew what it felt like to grow up without steady ground.

“Because,” Emily said softly, “everyone deserves someone in their corner.”

The girl stared at her.

Really stared.

Like she was trying to see if Emily would disappear if she blinked.

“Does that mean… I can stay?”

Emily smiled.

“As long as you want.”

The girl’s shoulders relaxed just a little.

Not completely.

But enough.

After a moment she asked quietly:

“Can I decorate my room?”

Emily laughed softly.

“Kid, you can paint the walls purple if you want.”

The girl’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Within reason,” Emily added with a grin.

For the first time that night, the girl smiled.

A real one.

---

Later that evening, Emily showed her the spare bedroom.

It wasn’t much.

A bed, a desk, and a bookshelf.

But the girl stood in the doorway like she had just discovered an entirely new world.

“This is… mine?”

Emily leaned against the doorframe.

“It is.”

The girl stepped inside slowly, almost cautiously.

Her fingers brushed the desk, the bedspread, the bookshelf.

Like she was confirming everything was real.

“Reid said he’d bring you some science books,” Emily said.

The girl brightened immediately.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Emily said. “He was already making a list.”

“And Garcia said she’s going to bring you a laptop.”

The girl blinked.

“…Why?”

Emily smiled.

“Because that’s how she shows love.”

The girl nodded slowly, trying to process the idea that strangers would care about her.

“Will I… meet them again?”

Emily pushed herself off the doorframe.

“You’re stuck with them now.”

“Even Morgan?” the girl asked cautiously.

Emily laughed.

“Especially Morgan.”

---

Down the hall, the girl paused again.

“Emily?”

Emily turned.

“Yeah?”

The girl hesitated.

Then quietly asked:

“Can I… call you Emily?”

Emily’s heart squeezed.

“For now,” she said gently.

The girl nodded.

“Okay.”

Then after a pause:

“…Thank you.”

Emily watched as she carefully sat on the bed, still looking around the room like she couldn’t quite believe it belonged to her.

For the first time since the case ended, Emily felt something settle inside her.

Relief.

Hope.

The house didn’t feel so empty anymore.

And neither did she.

[bauxxx]

CRIMINAL MINDS MASTERLIST

Emily Prentiss

Safe With You-f.reader 💙

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

Cat Adams

What She Doesn’t Know f.reader 💙

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

[bauxxx]

Wait… That’s Him?

Fandom: The Pitt

Pairing: Dennis Whitaker × Male Reader

Summary:

Dennis Whitaker talks about his boyfriend constantly at work—about how shy he is, how easily flustered he gets, and how he hides behind Dennis in loud places. The way Dennis describes him makes everyone assume he’s talking about a small, timid girl. So when Dennis invites his coworkers out for drinks after a brutal shift, they’re all shocked when his boyfriend finally arrives… and he’s a tall, muscular guy who towers over everyone.

The bar was loud.

Not just normal loud—post-shift hospital staff loud. The kind of loud where everyone was half-delirious from exhaustion and alcohol hit twice as fast because no one had eaten properly in twelve hours.

Music thumped through the speakers while clusters of nurses and doctors crowded tables, venting about patients, paperwork, and near-disasters.

At a corner table sat Dennis Whitaker and several of his coworkers: Trinity Santos, Perlah, Princess, Victoria Javadi, Cassie McKay, and Joy Kwon.

Most of them looked like they had been dragged through the worst shift imaginable.

Trinity had her head resting on her hand while sipping something strong. Cassie looked like she might fall asleep in her drink. Princess had kicked off her shoes under the table.

But Dennis?

Dennis Whitaker looked suspiciously happy.

He was smiling down at his phone.

Princess narrowed her eyes immediately.

“Oh my god,” she said dramatically. “You’re texting them again.”

Dennis didn’t even look up.

“Yep.”

Cassie groaned loudly.

“Your mystery partner?”

“They’re not a mystery,” Dennis replied calmly.

Trinity leaned forward, resting her arms on the table.

“Then why haven’t we met her?”

Dennis finally looked up.

“…Him.”

Perlah waved her hand dismissively.

“Yeah, yeah, we know you say that.”

Victoria nodded, tapping her glass thoughtfully.

“But the way you describe them—”

Princess immediately started counting on her fingers.

“‘He’s really shy.’”

Cassie added, “‘Crowds overwhelm him.’”

Joy chimed in with a grin.

“You literally said he hides behind you when people get loud.”

Trinity leaned back in her chair.

“And you said he gets flustered when people compliment him.”

The whole table burst into laughter.

Dennis groaned and rubbed his forehead.

“That doesn’t make him a girl.”

Princess shrugged.

“It kinda does.”

Cassie nodded.

“Yeah, Dennis. You talk about him like he’s some tiny nervous thing.”

Dennis rolled his eyes and went back to texting.

“Because he’s shy.”

Victoria leaned forward suspiciously.

“How shy are we talking?”

Dennis thought for a moment.

“…Last week someone complimented his haircut and he apologized.”

The table exploded with laughter again.

Princess clutched her stomach.

“Oh my god.”

Joy wiped tears from her eyes.

“You’re dating a human golden retriever.”

Dennis snorted.

“That’s not even accurate.”

“Sure it isn’t,” Trinity said.

Right then his phone buzzed.

Dennis glanced at the screen and smiled instantly.

I’m here. I think I’m at the right place.

Dennis stood up.

“Actually,” he said casually, grabbing his drink, “he’s here.”

The entire table went quiet.

Everyone turned toward the entrance like a pack of curious wolves.

The bar door opened.

Someone stepped inside.

At first they noticed how tall he was.

Then his shoulders.

Then the fact that the guy was clearly muscular—broad chest, strong arms, easily taller than almost everyone in the room.

Princess blinked slowly.

“…Oh.”

Cassie leaned forward.

“Wait.”

The tall guy paused just inside the door, clearly unsure where to go.

He scanned the room nervously.

His hands fidgeted with the sleeve of his jacket.

Then he spotted Dennis.

And his entire face softened.

Relief washed over him instantly.

He walked toward the table, long strides slowing as he approached the crowd of unfamiliar faces.

Dennis was already smiling.

“Hey,” Dennis said warmly.

Y/N smiled shyly.

“Hi.”

Despite being tall and muscular enough to look intimidating, his voice was soft and a little nervous.

He stopped beside Dennis, shoulders slightly hunched like he wished he could disappear.

Dennis rested a reassuring hand on his arm.

The touch immediately grounded him.

“Everyone,” Dennis said casually, “this is my boyfriend.”

Silence.

Complete silence.

Trinity blinked.

“…Boyfriend?”

Y/N shifted slightly, clearly uncomfortable with everyone staring at him.

“Uh… yeah. Hi.”

Princess slowly looked between Dennis and Y/N.

“Hold on.”

She pointed at Dennis.

“You talk about him like he’s some tiny shy thing.”

Cassie gestured wildly at Y/N.

“He’s huge!”

Y/N rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I’m… not that big…”

Everyone stared at him.

Dennis snorted.

“You literally have to duck through some doorways.”

Y/N mumbled quietly.

“Only the older buildings…”

Joy burst out laughing.

“This is unbelievable.”

Victoria crossed her arms.

“So let me get this straight,” she said carefully.

“You’ve been talking nonstop about this shy, easily flustered person who hides behind you.”

Dennis nodded.

Victoria pointed directly at Y/N.

“And that person… is a six-foot-something muscular guy.”

Y/N turned bright red.

Dennis shrugged.

“Yeah.”

Trinity leaned toward Perlah and whispered loudly,

“He could pick Dennis up.”

Y/N panicked immediately.

“I wouldn’t—”

Dennis grinned.

“He actually has.”

Y/N covered his face with both hands instantly.

“Dennis!”

The entire table erupted into laughter.

Princess wiped tears from her eyes.

“I can’t believe this.”

Y/N slowly lowered his hands, still embarrassed.

“…Dennis talks about me that much?”

Everyone answered at once.

“ALL THE TIME.”

Y/N groaned softly.

Dennis wrapped an arm around his waist.

“He’s exaggerating,” Dennis said calmly.

“Am not,” Trinity said immediately.

Cassie pointed at Dennis.

“You bring him up every shift.”

Joy lifted her drink.

“You’re absolutely whipped.”

Dennis didn’t even hesitate.

“Yeah.”

The honesty made everyone pause.

He simply pulled his tall, flustered boyfriend a little closer.

Y/N instinctively leaned into him.

Princess tilted her head.

“You know what’s funny?”

“What?” Dennis asked.

“You’re the only person here he looks comfortable around.”

Y/N blinked.

Dennis squeezed his side gently.

“He doesn’t like crowds.”

Y/N muttered quietly,

“You said this place wouldn’t be that busy…”

Dennis smiled apologetically.

“It got worse.”

Trinity suddenly stood up and pulled out a chair.

“Well, giant shy boyfriend, sit down.”

Y/N hesitated.

Dennis nudged him gently.

“It’s okay.”

He sat beside Dennis, shoulders still slightly tense.

But Dennis kept a reassuring hand resting against his side.

Slowly, Y/N relaxed.

Cassie leaned forward curiously.

“So how did you two even meet?”

Y/N looked at Dennis like he wanted permission to answer.

Dennis nodded.

Y/N spoke softly.

“…He helped me when my little sister was in the ER.”

The table immediately quieted.

“He stayed after his shift,” Y/N continued. “Just to explain everything to us.”

Dennis rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“It was part of my job.”

Y/N smiled shyly.

“You didn’t have to walk us to the parking lot though.”

Princess pointed dramatically.

“Romance!”

Dennis rolled his eyes.

But he didn’t move his arm from around Y/N.

Victoria leaned back in her chair.

“Well,” she said, raising her drink, “I owe Trinity money.”

Trinity groaned.

“You do.”

Everyone lifted their glasses.

“To Dennis Whitaker,” Joy said.

“Who somehow pulled the most intimidating shy man in Pittsburgh.”

Y/N buried his face in Dennis’s shoulder again.

Dennis laughed quietly.

“Worth it,” he said easily.

Y/N peeked up at him, smiling despite his embarrassment.

And for the rest of the night, Dennis didn’t stop looking proud.

[bauxxx]

💙-fluff 🔥-smut 💔-angst

THE PITT MASTERLIST

Dennis Whitaker

Wait… That’s Him?-m.reader 💙

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

Jack Abbott

When Did You Get Hot?-f.reader 💙

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

[bauxxx]

FANDOM MASTERLIST

💙 -fluff 🔥 -smut 💔 -angst

The Pitt

Criminal Minds

NCIS

The l word/generation q

Bones

9-1-1

Yellowjackets